The Screengrab : saw

Morning Deal Report: Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Reeves

Scott Von Doviak — Mon, 11 May 2009 14:00:00 GMT

Star Trek warped its way to the top of the box office, beaming up $76.5 million since its debut Thursday night. X-Men Origins: Wolverine took an expected hit, dropping to second place with $27 million, a 68% dropoff from its opening weekend take. Ghosts of Girlfriends Past, Obsessed and 17 Again rounded out the top five, while the only other new wide release, Next Day Air, didn't find many takers - it finished sixth with $4 million.

Keanu Reeves will attempt to convey a split personality in a new retelling of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. This will be a modern version called Jekyll, per The Hollywood Reporter. "Universal clearly is enamored with the tale as it also has been developing a take on it with Guillermo del Toro, though the two couldn't be more different. Del Toro, who has an affinity for gothic horror as well as creature features, aims to stick more closely to the Stevenson tale. Also, del Toro's project is on the slow track as the filmmaker works on The Hobbit for New Line and MGM, which is expected to take up the next five years. Even when he comes back, he likely will tackle one or two other Universal projects before his version, so a good amount of time will exist between the projects."

Here's a timely announcement: Darren Lynn Bousman, director of three Saw movies, will helm a remake of the Troma classic Mother's Day. "The original Mother's Day revolved around three female friends who, while camping, run afoul of two brothers who engage in murder and rape to impress their deranged mother." Me, I just sent flowers.

The Slasher Movie Comes of Age

Phil Nugent — Fri, 10 Apr 2009 17:00:00 GMT

In The Atlantic, James Parker sings the praises of "that most misunderstood of genres," the slasher flick. Actually, Parker doesn't really make a case for the genre being misunderstood so much as boldly step up to declare that he watches them voluntarily, and he can quote Ted Hughes (“Its mishmash of scripture and physics, / With here, brains in hands, for example, / And there, legs in a treetop.” ) and Seamus Heaney's translation of Beowulf, which, though a fine rendering of a classic work, does not include an appearance by a naked Angelina Jolie in flesh high heels. "The classic slasher flick," he writes, "is produced at high speed, on a squeaker of a budget, and bows briefly for an anointing of critical scorn before going on to make piles of money. With a bit of luck, that critical scorn will be amplified into cultural censure—1980’s rape-revenge slasher, I Spit on Your Grave, for instance, was widely and windily reviled, to the enduring profit of its makers. 'The more the film was attacked,' writer-director Meir Zarchi confided to Variety last year, 'the more money shot into my pocket.'” He must have done pretty damn well. I'm not sure that I've ever actually seen I Spit on Your Grave, but I remember, as if it were yesterday, the 1981 "special" episode of Roger Ebert and Gene Siskel's old syndicated movie-reviews TV show Sneal Previews that was set aside for the purpose of heaping scorn and disgust on what were then just beginning to be called slasher (or "splatter") films, with I Spit on Your Grave a prime target. Watching a clip from the movie, in which a bunch of scuzzball louts swaggered around the fallen body of a violated young woman, sandwiched between the TV showmen clucking and posturing about the death of civilization, one felt much as one does at a screening of Freddy vs. Jason: it's not clear who you should root for, but you'd settle for checking off the box marked "None of the Above."

Part of the appeal of slasher movies is that they're disreputable. But the fact that a writer like Parker can admit to having taken pleasure from watching slasher movies in a magazine like The Atlantic shows how far we've come since...well, since 1976, when Harper's, a magazine pretty much on the same social outreach level as The Atlantic, ran Stephen Koch's "Fashions in Pornography", which gave the author a chance to step out onto the heath and rend his garments in appalled despair over the fact that Tobe Hooper's The Texas Chain Saw Massacre had been screened at the Museum of Modern Art. (With the title of his screed, Koch clearly anticipated the current term "torture porn", which New York magazine reviewer David Edelstein is so proud of having coined.) In movie circles, Koch is best known as the author of Stargazer, a classic, admiring survey of Andy Warhol's films, and his dismay at seeing some trashy little drive-in slaughter-fest being garlanded by a prestigious New York City culture institution may partly reflect one man's concern that his fringe cinema of choice be recognized as deserving of a place in the canon before some white trash gorehound's fringe cinema of choice. My grandmother was a good Christian Southern lady, and if a bus containing either Andy Warhol or Tobe Hooper had broken down in front of her house, she would have invited both of them in and gorged them on homemade pie, but she wouldn't have watched the movies made by either gentlemen if she'd been able to borrow someone else's eyeballs.

"Politicians, ugly buildings, and whores all become respectable if they last long enough," spoke Noah Cross (John Huston) in Chinatown, a movie whose nose-slitting sequence speaks to a part of the audience that has no insurmountable problem with being titillated with a little gratuitous shock and bloodshed, so long as there's a story and big stars to go with it. Back in 1981, maybe nobody seriously expected slasher movies to last this long. But they did, and now they're at least half respectable, partly because those of us who, back then, were just old enough to watch clips from them on Sneak Previews but who couldn't see the movies themselves until they hit cable or Mom and Dad left us alone with the VCR, are now adults who, because this stuff was always there, can imagine stuff that's even worse. Some of these adults are now filmmakers whose job it is to imagine stuff that's even worse. As Parker sees it, "Saw and Hostel succeeded, above all, because they are serious slasher flicks. The extremity of their goriness reclaimed the splatter death from mainstream movies (where it’s become unremarkable to see a man fed screaming to a propeller, or run through with a drill bit). And the immersive nastiness of their aesthetic—decayed bathrooms, foul workshops, seeping industrial spaces, blades blotched with rust—distilled the slasher-flick elixir: atmosphere. No franchise thrives without it."

Parker continues: "Just as crucially, Saw and Hostel feature excellent and novel villains." Saw's Jigsaw is, or if I interpreted the art work on the last installment correctly as I whizzed past it on the subway umpteen times, was, a terminal cancer patient whose Rube Goldberg torture devices are intended to impress upon his victims the importance of appreciating life, an area in which he judges them to have been falling short. And the wealthy businessmen who, in the Hostel series, pay top dollar to torture healthy young American backpackers to death can be taken as some kind of comment on the rapaciousness of the class that brought us the new Depression. Earlier generations of genre filmmakers were a little confused when informed that they were in the social commentary business, but Hostel director Eli Roth talks about it as if he thought he might be eligible for a Pulitzer: "“Thanks to George Bush and Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld," the insists, "there’s a whole new wave of horror movies.”

What's kind of off-putting is how much of the new wave has hit the beach before, with fewer Roman numerals attached. So far this year we've seen remakes of Friday the 13th, My Bloody Valentine, and Wes Craven's Last House on the Left, a movie so proudly vile that the fact that it could provide fodder for a pricey Hollywood remake--let alone the fact that its director could have gone on to work with Meryl Streep--just about single-handedly carried us all into an alternate universe. Later this year there'll be a sequel to Rob Zombie's remake of John Carpenter's original Halloween. This deluge of remakes may be part of what's now respectable about slasher movies: unless you're the Marquis de Sade, it's hard to come up with a really new take on having a madman run around turning people into kindling, and if your movie is going to look a lot like a lot of other movies, why not latch onto the name of a golden oldie and "honor" it with an official remake rather than imitate it and get tagged as a rip-off artist? If Parker, as a fan of the genre, is concerned that it may finally be killed off by losing its capacity to shock, either from endless repetition or misplaced self-seriousness, he isn't letting on: "In a tolerant spirit," he writes, "the slasher fan gets in line for the new sequel or prequel or remake or 'reboot.' If it’s crap, so what? The next one might be better."

Two Severed Fingers Way, Way Up, and Other Tales from the Hollywood Marketing Division

Phil Nugent — Fri, 16 Jan 2009 18:00:00 GMT

“If we weren’t making decisions based on marketability, John Malkovich would be in every movie.” Tad Friend's New Yorker article about modern movie marketing is full of great quotes like that. (It's attributed to a nameless "movie marketeer.") Friend writes, "It is often said in Hollywood that no one sets out to make a bad movie, but the truth is that people cheerfully set out to make bad movies all the time. It is more accurate to say that no one sets out to make a movie without having a particular audience in mind." Here's the way it breaks down: "The collective wisdom [among marketers] is that young males like explosions, blood, cars flying through the air, pratfalls, poop jokes, 'you’re so gay' banter, and sex—-but not romance. Young women like friendship, pop music, fashion, sarcasm, sensitive boys who think with their hearts, and romance—-but not sex (though they like to hear the naughty girl telling her friends about it)...Older women like feel-good films and Nicholas Sparks-style weepies: they are the core audience for stories of doomed love and triumphs of the human spirit. They enjoy seeing an older woman having her pick of men; they hate seeing a child in danger. Particularly once they reach thirty, these women are the most 'review-sensitive': a chorus of critical praise for a movie aimed at older women can increase the opening weekend’s gross by five million dollars. In other words, older women are discriminating, which is why so few films are made for them." On the other hand, a marketing consultant named Terry Press told Friend that “Guys [i.e., "older men"] only get off their couches twice a year, to go to Wild Hogs or 3:10 to Yuma. If all you have [in your movie's target demographic] is older males, it’s time to take a pill.”

Although marketing divisions may be the enemy of the art of movies, there is an art to devising a successful marketing campaign. Friend spends much of his time profiling Tim Palen, a 47-year-old who has designed campaigns for Lionsgate films ranging from Crash and W. to Rambo and the Saw franchise. It was he who came up with the weird mix of gross-out provocation and graphic elegance that was the poster image for Saw II: a pair of severed fingers laid out to look like a "II." (The ad was designed to do its work before the movie was released; Palen had to rejigger it so that the fingers' stubs weren't seen before the movie could get an R rating from the MPAA.) Palen's campaigns sometimes have a touch-every-base quality; with W., he had to make the director, Oliver Stone, feel that his even-handed treatment of George W. Bush was being handled with the respect it deserved, while keeping in mind that telling the world how fair and even-handed the movie was would not likely cause panic at the box offices. (Palen was disappointed when W. failed to become the second-biggest weekend grosser because he had an ad set to go that showed a picture of the movie's star, Josh Brolin, sitting on the toilet with the words, "W. Is Number Two!"

Friend happened to be shadowing Palen while he was starting work on a campaign for a new Renee Zellweger comedy, which was originally called Chilled in Miami but is now called New in Town. Palen calls it "The Devil Wears Patagonia." (“Did you see Baby Boom?" he asks Friend. "It’s that. It’s that without the baby.”) Palen worked on devising a trailer for the film with David Schneiderman, who reports on Palen's reaction to the first try: "‘Where’s the Mary Tyler Moore?’ He said, ‘This girl goes to this little town in Minnesota and she’s a cold person, and they warm her up, right? More warmth, more style, more Devil Wears Prada. ’ And I said, ‘I don’t know where that is in the movie.’ And he said, ‘Create it.’ ” You might think that people whose job it is to sell movies to the public would find it helpful to at least put up a front of thinking the movies in question are, well, not garbage, and if you do think that, you may find it sobering to discover just how very wrong you are. Palen worked on a Jessica Alba comedy called Good Luck Chuck that was so bad that Palen can only say that he "got the film open, which was kind of a feat. America likes cheese.”

Take Five: Halloween

Leonard Pierce — Fri, 31 Oct 2008 19:45:00 GMT

When a franchise has legs, the people who own it whip it so hard that those legs inevitably come off. That doesn't keep them from flogging its backside, of course; there have been eleven Friday the Thirteenth movies, eight Freddy Krueger flicks, and so many James Bond movies that they're starting to use grocery lists written by Ian Fleming on the back of cocktail napkins as their source material. The Saw franchise is already on its fifth installment, despite the fact that the first movie opened roughly three weeks ago, and I'm pretty sure they were filming the sixth and seventh movies at the craft table of the set of the fifth one. Compared to this level of sequel overinflation, you might think that the venerable Halloween franchise is a virtual model of restraint. That's what I thought, anyway, when I decided to watch every single one of them in a row. Frankly, I didn't even think there was enough of it to make a Take Five; I was completely convinced that the ultra-bizarre Halloween III had killed the thing off until Rob Zombie decided to bring it back with his 2007 remake of the original. It turns out there were five more sequels before the White Zombie frontman took a swing at reviving Michael Myers. A chilling prospect, but lucky you: this Halloween, you won't have to read my mini-reviews of each one. The first five will do, but believe me: simply living in a world that has Halloween 6: The Curse of Michael Myers in it should scare you more than anything else about the holiday.

HALLOWEEN (1978)

Often credited as the movie that kick-started the whole slasher-film genre, Halloween doesn't really deserve that title. For one thing, it's too good. Tautly directed by John Carpenter, and featuring performances by genuine movie actors like Jamie Lee Curtis and Donald Pleasance, Halloween was likewise a big-budget picture with a canny script, a plausible if terrifying villain, and actual production values. The future would belong to movies like Friday the Thirteenth, which would be released a few years later and combine all the low-budget qualities of an indie production with the bloody aesthetic of Carpenter's best work, but none of the smarts or skills. If it can't lay claim to being the progenitor of the genre, though, Halloween can at least say that it's one of the best; it still holds up years later, and makes what came after that more of a waste.

HALLOWEEN II (1981)

Literally picking up where the first movie left off, Halloween II had the advantage of being written by Carpenter and his partner Debra Hill and the immediacy of the same characters and situations, but that's about it. The filming was put in the hands of the far less competent Rick Rosenthal; the producers tinkered a lot with Carpenter and Hill's script; the movie looks dismal and kluged-together despite a much higher budget; and, in keeping with the new slasher aesthetic ushered in by the likes of Friday the Thirteenth, it forsook tension, mood and suspense for low-budget mysticism, cheap shocks, and gore, gore, gore. It cost twice as much as its predecessor but made half the money, and it would stand as one of the most disappointing sequels of the era -- until people got a look at the next installment.

HALLOWEEN III: SEASON OF THE WITCH (1982)

Almost as if to prove to the millions of people who hated Halloween II that they didn't know how good they had it, the next sequel, made a year later by the mysterious Tommy Lee Wallace, was bad enough on its own: its plot was incomprehensible, its pace was glacial, its story made no sense, and with the exception of cult favorite character actor Tom Atkins in the lead role, its cast was a dud. Worse still, though, it had absolutely nothing to do with the previous movies. Michael Myers was nowhere to be found, and the story -- involving a tycoon who intended to turn the heads of all the children of the world into slithering insects with the aid of high-tech Halloween masks (no, really) -- had no apparent connection to the first two movies. Wallace claimed he was trying to turn the franchise into a sort of horror anthology, a la "Night Gallery"; but he didn't seem to have told anyone beforehand, nor was he able to adequately explain why.

HALLOWEEN IV: THE RETURN OF MICHAEL MYERS (1988)

So thoroughly did Season of the Witch tarnish the reputation of the Halloween franchise that it would be six years before producer/propertyholder Moustapha Akkad gave it another whirl. He apparently spent those six years looking for someone who would answer "yes" to the questions "will you put Michael Myers back in the movie?" and "will you take a check?"; that someone Dwight H. Little, and the movie he made featured an answer to the first question right in its title. The plot, such as it is, features the comatose Myers arising to kill and kill again; the movie brings back Donald Pleasance to add a touch of class, but other than that, its new cast, new creative team, and new focus bring absolutely nothing to the table. In some ways, it's even worse than Halloween III; at least that movie had some ideas, even if they were all bad ones.

HALLOWEEN V: THE REVENGE OF MICHAEL MYERS (1989)

Made roughly three seconds after Halloween IV wrapped, the fifth installment ended up competing with its predecessor, which was just then being released on home video. To be honest, I have a lot of trouble telling the two apart: the cover art is indistinguishable, the plot is identical, and both movies feature a fucked-up-looking Donald Pleasance collecting another paycheck. If you're still keeping track at home, this is the one that introduces some additional supernatural mumbo-jumbo, with Danielle Harris suddenly discovering, after two movies, that she has a psychic link with her uncle Mikey; other than that, they're pretty much the same movie. Halloween V is the movie that introduced me to the directing talents of one Dominique Othenin-Girard, and, subsequently, caused me to never again seek out said talents.

Related Posts:

Take Five: Friday the Thirteenth

Take Five: Take Four

The Screengrab Highlight Reel: Oct. 11-17, 2008

Scott Von Doviak — Fri, 17 Oct 2008 21:30:00 GMT

Hey there, Screengrab readers. Joe the Plumber here. You don’t want to know the details, believe me, but there’s been an unusual toilet incident here at Screengrab headquarters and I’ve been called in to take care of the situation. It’s cool, I don’t mind helping these guys out because they pay cash under the table. No taxes! But they did ask if I wouldn’t mind handling the Highlight Reel while I’m here. I’ll admit, I don’t usually read the Screengrab – I’m more of a Modern Materialist guy – but they slipped me a few extra bucks, so what the hell. Here’s the best stuff I saw this week:

They did a decent job with the Top 25 Leading Ladies of All Time (Parts One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven and Eight), although I personally would have included Raquel Welch. Always had a thing for her. And this list of the Top 007 James Bond Theme Songs (Parts One and Two) is all right, but where’s For Your Eyes Only? That Sheena Easton had some pipes – and I know from pipes!

I don’t get out to the pictures much, so I probably won’t see W. and What Just Happened, but I am looking forward to that new Star Trek. Does anyone know if it has tribbles in it? I never saw Cockfighter, My Neighbor Totoro, Swept Away or Boiler Room – but I’ve seen my share of boiler rooms, let me tell you!

Aw, jeez, this toilet is bad news. What is that green stuff? Anyway, I gotta wrap this up, but if you’re interested in Tony Curtis’s book, Oliver Stone movies, the Saw amusement park ride or Jabba the portly Irish gent, go read about ‘em.

Oh, and this isn’t funny. These are tools, not weapons.

Saw: Ride the Torture!

Leonard Pierce — Wed, 15 Oct 2008 20:00:00 GMT

A long, long time ago -- no, really! It was five whole years ago! We'd just won the war in Iraq! -- a movie came out called Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl. Professional movie watchers like myself were a tad taken aback, largely because we had severe doubts about the quality of a movie based on a theme park ride. As it happens, the movie was actually pretty engaging, and for a few years, before Pirates of the Caribbean went to hell and became as bad as we thought it was going to be in the first place, people got to cluck their tongues at us and go "See? You never know."

Unfortunately, that's not entirely true. Sometimes you know. For example, I know that, even though amusement park rides based on movies are far more common, and generally of higher quality, than movies based on amusement park rides, the recently announced Saw: The Ride is going to go down in history as nothing but one more step towards the ultimate humilation, degradation and sad, slow death of the human race.

No, we're not kidding: there really is going to be such a thing as Saw: The Ride. Based on the depressingly popular torture-porn horror series, it's set to open at Surrey's Thorpe Park in Britain in March of 2009. Alleged to be the first roller-coaster to be based on a horror movie, the ride features a 100-foot vertical drop in free fall, which is so scary that it induced Saw producers Lionsgate to release a suicide-inducing press release claiming that "Saw: The Ride is a reflection of how thoroughly the Saw franchise has crossed over into pop culture at large." The rides will evoke the nausea-inspiring horror caused by serial killer Jigsaw as he systematically murders people for your amusement. Bring the kids!

If that was the worst of it, we probably wouldn't care so much; but with Saw V (there have been five of these already? Seriously?) opening worldwide, it's almost a certainty that by the time the franchise drags out to its ninth or tenth installment -- and assuming no one has actually been killed on the ride -- the idea-bereft producers are sure to release a flick in which Jigsaw menaces people on the roller-coaster, confronting innocent human beings with Saw: The Ride: The Movie. When will the suffering end?

Related Posts:

Take Five: Take Four

ARRR! Another Pirate Movie

The Screengrab Presents: The Five Kinds of Twist Endings

Gwynne Watkins — Tue, 27 May 2008 14:15:00 GMT

With M. Night Shyamalan's latest opus on the horizon, our thoughts are drifting to one of the best and worst things ever to happen to movies: the twist ending. True, the twist ending hit oversaturation in the early '00s, when it seemed like every film ended with a tacked-on revelation that all the characters were dead or the same person or characters in a giant videogame or something. But film history is so full of con games, double-crosses and startling last-minute revelations that it would be a shame to lose the twist ending entirely. Here's an affectionate guide to the 5 kinds of surprise endings. And yes, many films fit into more than one category. Call it a twist. -- Gwynne Watkins

#5 The Twilight Zone
In The Twilight Zone, something seems wrong or off-kilter for the entire film, but it's not entirely obvious what that thing is. When the twist is revealed, it creates a shift in perspective that can be easily explained in one sentence (such as the classic Twilight Zone example, "To Serve Man -- it's a cookbook!") Films that do The Twilight Zone well include The Others, Soylent Green and Swimming Pool. But when it's bad, it's very very bad; look no further than The Village, a cautionary tale for screenwriters everywhere.

#4 The Scooby Doo
This is the twist ending that reveals all prior events in the film to be part of an elaborate hoax perpetrated by the characters. And they would have gotten away with it, too! It's most commonly seen in con man movies -- The Game, Matchstick Men, The Sting, The Spanish Prisoner -- although it's cropped up to abysmal effect in "gotcha!" films like Basic and The Life of David Gale.

#3 The Donald Kaufman
Named for Charlie Kaufman's fictional screenwriter brother in Adaptation, The Donald Kaufman is the big twist that ostensibly explains everything, but in fact, makes no sense whatsoever. The Donald Kaufman most often takes the form of "They're both the same person!" or "It was all a dream!" Identity, High Tension and Femme Fatale are recent examples.

#2 The Awful Truth
The Awful Truth is the sucker punch of twist endings: a revelation that turns the main character into a tragic figure. Think Luke Skywalker screaming "That's not true! That's impossible!" in Empire Strikes Back, or the final shot of Rosebud in Citizen Kane. At best, it's dramatically satisfying (see Donnie Darko, Memento or Seven); at worst, it makes you want to slap the filmmaker for being a total sadist (see The Mist).

#1 The 20/20 Hindsight
The hardest kind of twist ending to pull off successfully, The 20/20 Hindsight requires the viewer to sit through an entire movie without realizing that a twist ending is coming. Then, after what seems like the film's resolution, the rug gets pulled out from under them. The Sixth Sense and The Usual Suspects are the classic examples; both have a fake-out ending that's quite satisfying, then a last-minute revolution that turns the whole film on its ear. Others include Fight Club, Planet of the Apes and Saw.

Vanishing Act: The “Greenlight” Gang

Scott Von Doviak — Mon, 24 Mar 2008 20:30:00 GMT

For three seasons (two on HBO and a final one on Bravo), Project Greenlight attempted to capture the filmmaking drama found in documentaries like American Movie or Overnight. Since Greenlight was a reality show, a certain amount of the drama was contrived: the subjects were contest winners, and despite the stated intentions of producers Matt Damon and Ben Affleck, their projects were not necessarily selected on the basis of artistic merit.

For the inaugural season in 2002, apple-cheeked neophyte Pete Jones and his family-friendly script Stolen Summer were selected for production, with budget to be provided by Miramax (which also produced the series). Jones directed his own script (an arrangement that would not be repeated in subsequent seasons), and while the series documenting his efforts proved to be quite entertaining, the resulting film was neither a critical nor a commercial success. Still, even though he came off as somewhat oafish and full of himself on the show, the old adage that there’s no such thing as bad publicity held true. Jones made enough of a name for himself to take some meetings in L.A. and pitch a new comedy about a closeted gay man who decides to come out to his family, only to find they don’t believe him. No deal materialized, and eventually Jones and his brothers financed the movie, Outing Riley, themselves. Jones took on the title role and snagged Nathan Fillion and Curb Your Enthusiasm’s Jeff Garlin for the supporting cast. The film played some festivals in 2004 and was released on video last year.

Project Greenlight’s second season suffered from sequel-itis. Producer Chris Moore, breakout reality star of the first season, apparently read his reviews and played up his villainous persona to an embarrassing degree. The victims were screenwriter Erica Beeney and co-directors Kyle Rankin and Efram Potelle, the mismatched creative team behind The Battle of Shaker Heights. Rankin and Potelle have talent, as evidenced in their wacky short films like Pennyweight, but seemed ill-suited to bring Beeney’s coming-of-age story to life. Nonetheless, Shaker Heights has enjoyed a long afterlife on cable, probably because it stars current It Boy Shia LeBeouf. Beeney has no writing credits since, but Rankin has written and directed the horror-comedy Infestation (with Potelle producing, acting and supervising the special effects), due later this year from Mel Gibson’s Icon Productions.

After the second season, HBO cut ties with Greenlight, which relocated to Bravo. In a desperate attempt to keep the series going – and keep the money flowing from the Weinstein brothers – Moore, Damon and Affleck announced that the third Greenlight movie would be a commercial genre piece. This turned out to be good news for the winning screenwriters, Marcus Dunstan and Patrick Melton, whose horror screenplay Feast led to gigs writing later installments of the Saw series, as well as a remake of Hellraiser. In addition, the DVD release of Feast was successful enough to spawn two sequels, both penned by Dunstan and Melton and directed by John Gulager, Greenlight III’s designated goofus. In this respect, the show’s third season can be regarded as the most successful, but the producers’ hoped-for outcome never materialized, as future installments of the series got the red light. Still, we’ll always have Feast:

The Rock IS "The Tooth Fairy" and Other Worst-Case Scenarios

Scott Von Doviak — Wed, 27 Feb 2008 20:30:00 GMT

As soon as Jon Stewart bid us goodnight and told us to drive home safely, the powers that be in Hollywood breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, they could put all of this "quality filmmaking" nonsense behind them and open the crapgates for another load of sequels, remakes and high-concept star vehicles.

Leading the parade is Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson, who will play an ordinary Joe who takes over the Tooth Fairy's duties in, well, The Tooth Fairy. Yes, it's basically The Santa Clause all over again, and appropriately enough, it will be directed by Michael Lembeck, who helmed the two Clause sequels. The concept might also ring a bell for those who have closely followed Arnold Schwarzenegger's career. As Entertainment Weekly reported in 1992, The Man Who Would Be Governator had his choice of several projects, including "Sweet Tooth, an action comedy about a U.S. Marine who finds out at his father's deathbed that he's inheriting the family legacy — the job of tooth fairy." (He opted for The Last Action Hero. We'll call this one a draw.)

In other news, despite their claims to the contrary, it appears that Paul Greengrass and Matt Damon are both on board for a fourth Bourne adventure. (If they're looking for a title, may we suggest Bourne to Be Wild?) We've enjoyed all the jittery suspense as much as anyone, but surely these guys have better things to do than go to this particular well one more time.

Finally we have the latest in unwanted and unnecessary horror remakes. The duo behind the fourth and fifth Saw installments (Patrick Melton and Marcus Dunstan, who scripted Feast for Project Greenlight) have been hired to resurrect Hellraiser, while Dylan Walsh of Nip/Tuck will attempt to fill Terry O'Quinn's shoes as The Stepfather. We're trembling with fear already.

Take Five: The Classics

Peter Smith — Fri, 16 Nov 2007 21:00:00 GMT

"Read the classics, sir," advises Jason Miller's Lieutenant Reno in The Ninth Configuration. "It improves the entire respiratory system." Sure, but who has time for that? When it comes to the great works of western literature, it's all well and good for academics to slog through the thousands of pages of their Penguin Classics editions, but we're busy people. We have screenings of Saw V: Saw Harder to get to. We need our classics simple, direct, stripped of poetry and obscurity, and preferably less than two hours long and starring someone who can sport a decent six-pack. Robert Zemeckis' all-star adaptation of Beowulf, opening wide this weekend, is much more our speed; if we have to sit through a bunch of crazy Old English dialogue, even brought up to speed by comics legend Neil Gaiman, it better be accompanied by some naked Angelina Jolie. Here's a handful of other cinema-clarified classics.

FRANKENSTEIN (1931)

America's middle school students have one thing to look forward to in the long slog through English classes: Frankenstein. It's part of the holy triumvirate of bona fide classics (along with Dracula and Beowulf) that spice up the prose with a good solid monster. Dr. Victor Frankenstein and his "Adam" have become such iconic figures in our culture that it's hard to imagine a time when he was perceived as anything other than Boris Karloff's shambling, neck-bolded patchwork man; and James Whale's confident direction here, remarkably sophisticated for a film that was made over seventy-five years ago, is still electric today.

TOM JONES (1963)

As school-assigned, instructive Classics of Western Literature go, Henry Fielding's Tom Jones is a relative favorite, containing as it does lots of screwing and fart jokes. Tony Richardson's big blow-out adaptation, like the novel a compelling combination of arch and earthy, tries to bring the same tastes-good-and-good-for-you sensibility to the big screen and largely succeeds, despite having been made in the early 1960s when a few of the book's raunchier moments had to be implied rather than depicted. Aided by some gorgeous photography, the film boasts a terrific cast led by young and studly Albert Finney and Susannah York, who's never looked better.

MADAME BOVARY (1991)

Though a number of adaptations of Gustave Flaubert's essential novel have been attempted over the years, perhaps the definitive version comes from the talented and prolific Claude Chabrol. In many ways, he's the perfect director to take on the project: quintessentially French, like Flaubert, but also like Flaubert, just alienated enough from his society and times to view them with a properly jaundiced eye. Given his history of making compelling films about unsatisfied women who come to a bloody end because of their frustration and lack of options, Chabrol was almost born to make Madame Bovary, and he couldn't have made a better choice to play Emma than his Violette Noziere star, the phenomenal Isabelle Huppert.

RICHARD III (1995)

When discussing the classics and their transition to film, there's no avoiding ol' Will Shakespeare. But if you're trying to get the kids on your side, forget glitzy romance and postmodernist flash; forsake the pomposities of a Baz Luhrmann's Romeo + Juliet and go straight for Richard Loncraine's inventive, delightful Richard III. Nothing animates a Shakespeare play like a good villain, and Ian McKellen — who wrote the adaptation — plays the twisted, perverse, gleefully murderous Richard to the hilt. The setting is likewise outstanding, and the conceit of setting the story in an alternate England of the 1930s, overcome by fascist nationalism, works like a charm, particularly in a dynamite opening sequence.

TRISTRAM SHANDY: A COCK AND BULL STORY (2005)

If someone tells you often enough that a great novel is unfilmable, you might just start to believe it. For the first hundred years or so of the motion picture industry, no one would tough Laurence Sterne's brilliant, hilarious, rambling Tristram Shandy — a work of postmodernist genius written at least a hundred years before there was even modernism — with a ten-foot lens. It took the arrival of Michael Winterbottom, a man who has made a career out of not listening to people when they tell him what kind of movie he should make next, for anything remotely resembling a big-screen adaptation to be made, and even then, it was more of an impression than it was a reproduction.

— Leonard Pierce

Take Five: Take Four

Peter Smith — Fri, 26 Oct 2007 20:00:00 GMT

As a professional film critic, it is my most sacred duty to deliver honest, truthful assessments of the films I am assigned to see — and to review them fairly without prejudice or favor. It would be a betrayal of my professional and personal standards to review, positively or negatively, a film without actually seeing it. Having said that, here’s a prediction: Saw IV, which opens today nationwide after having been completed approximately three days ago, is going to suck. Now, I say this without having seen Saw IV; for that matter, I say this without having seen Saw I, Saw II or Saw III. For all I know, they’re cinematic masterworks the likes of which Orson Welles could never dare to dream. But let’s face it: the fourth installment in any series, let alone one as misbegotten as the Saw series, has the deck stacked against it from the jump-off. The number of Part 4s that have been worth watching can be counted on one hand; it just so happens that I have five fingers on my left hand, so here’s five fours that aren’t complete wastes of time.

THUNDERBALL (1965)

Believe it or not, there was a time when there weren’t so many James Bond movies that nobody bothered to count them. Thunderball wasn’t quite as good as Goldfinger and From Russia with Love, the two films that preceded it, but it’s still a Bond flick in the grand tradition, with lots of fun lines, exciting action sequences, and swell spy gear, and it’s one of the last 007 adventures that still feels like something you can enjoy rather than just live through, like most of the long-slog installments of the 1970s. At any rate, Sean Connery seems to be enjoying himself, and who wouldn’t, with Claudine Auger around?

ROCKY IV (1985)

Ha, ha! Just kidding. This isn’t a good Part IV at all. It’s terrible. But taken strictly for laughs, it’s an inadvertent masterpiece, with its overblown jingoism, mindless commie-bashing, and endless hilariously bad dialogue. It also introduced the world, however briefly, to currently unemployable Swedish galoot Dolph Lundgren and Sly Stallone’s gargantuan Danish girlfriend, Brigitte Nielsen. A movie decidedly of its era, it is a fine measure of the tenor of its times, and I had the pleasure of getting thrown out of a theatre during its initial screening for loudly cheering for the Russian fighter to pound the obnoxious Rocky into soup.

BRIDE OF CHUCKY (1998)

The fourth installment of the "Chucky" series of tongue-in-cheek horror movies following the adventures of a homicidal doll, Bride of Chucky benefits enormously from not taking itself at all seriously. Surprisingly well-directed by Hong Kong veteran Ronny Yu, it features a genuinely funny script, some surreal dialogue between the supremely professional Brad Dourif and a game-for-anything Jennifer Tilly, and one of the most ridiculous sex scenes in cinema history. It’s not the sort of thing that’s going to win any Oscar nods (by the time you get to Part IV, you’re generally running on fumes even if the original film was decent), but it’s highly enjoyable just the same.

CITIZEN TOXIE: THE TOXIC AVENGER IV (2000)

Lloyd Kaufman’s Troma pictures may not be particularly well-crafted, which is not unexpected given that they are generally made for as much money as Kaufman happens to have in his pocket at the moment. And they aren’t Art with a capital A, dealing as they do with things like surfing Nazis and the question of whether or not they should die. But they’re occasionally hilarious, brilliantly campy, and damn it, they give their fans what they want, which is more than you can say for a lot of studio films. Citizen Toxie’s shotgun approach guarantees at least a couple of solid hits, and it’s chock full of ridiculous celebrity cameos, from Corey Feldman to Ron Jeremy.

LAND OF THE DEAD (2005)

Why is it that horror movies rack up the biggest sequel counts as well as the biggest body counts? If a movie title is followed by a Roman numeral higher than V, it’s a, well, dead certainty that its plot revolves around serial killers, monsters, and/or megadeaths. Anyway, the fourth of George Romero’s zombie series (after Night of the Living, Dawn of and Day of the Dead) is by no means the best; it’s full of plot holes, marred by a ridiculous ending, and generally a tad ridiculous. But it’s also George Romero, and that means it’s chock full of visceral thrills, black comedy, and social commentary — and this time around, we even get a couple of juicy star turns from Dennis Hopper and John Leguizamo.

— Leonard Pierce