Happy New Year, everyone! Hey, let's hope 2015 is going to be better than what came before, eh...? I know! I doubt it, too!
One of my wife's top topics is the Jonestown Massacre of 1978, so with one final Holiday evening of a self-imposed Nothing To Do (no really: final! I gotta get my ass in gear), we saw "The Sacrament", which has been on both Netflix and several Best Horror Films of 2014 lists for a while now. Putting aside my trepidation of director Ti West, we fired up the XBOX and let Magnet Films and producer Eli Roth do their thing: Recovering drug addict Caroline has holed herself up at a drug-free retreat called Eden Parish. When she invites her fashion photographer brother Patrick to check it out, he arrives with Sam and Jake from VICE Magazine because there's clearly a story in here. There's also armed guards, an abused little girl, and an enigmatic religioso called Father whose paranoia kicks in by the arrival of the journalists- all of which turn Shangri-La into Shit Outta Luck in just shy of twenty-four hours.
West creates an excellent atmosphere. The first half oozes with dread, and the second is nail-biting terror- exceptionally difficult to pull off in bright daylight since the climax occurs at morning, but damn. He also gets solid, creepy performances out of my actors, and this "found-footage" movie doesn't feel found-footage: there are quick edits and crisp cinematography that really captures the feeling of hiding in the woods from fuckers out to kill you.
So what is my problem with Ti West? I don't think the guy is particularly creative story-wise. The Sacrament is an almost by-the-numbers Cliff's Notes of the Jonestown Massacre; all West left out was a selfless congressman. (Back when politicians did their jobs, it was Leo J. Ryan, California-D, who braved one assassination attempt to personally rescue the cult members and died to a second.) West has said that this film is his most horrific one yet, which isn't too hard when quoting cult leader Jim Jones directly. My wife has seen documentaries on Jonestown, and pretty much kept piping up "Yep! THAT happened!" "Yeah! The 'Please Help Us' note; THAT happened, too!" "Yeah, Jones TOTALLY said that!" throughout the viewing. Which is fine, but I can't really call it original. Psycho, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and The Silence of The Lambs were all inspired by Ed Gein; you don't end THOSE movies with nipple belts weighing on your mind.
But, for those unwilling to see real photos of a field in Guyana where you can't see the grass for the corpses (until 9/11 happened, Jonestown held the record for most killed American civilians), The Sacrament shines as a means of awareness towards a terrible tragedy. And one day, Ti West will receive a unique, innovative screenplay to direct, and that horror film is going to knock it out of the park. 5/5 cyanide syringes.
...Oh, and I have a great idea: how about we, as a society, stop goddamn saying that obnoxious accusation of conformity known as "You drank the Kool-Aid!" Really. Not because the drink was actually Flavor-Aid, nor because of sensitivity to the survivors- for the record, there were a lot of last-minute epiphanies and they were all answered with bullets to the head. I mean, feel free if you want to keep using it, but consider this: willingly drinking poison was the fifth insane thing these people did. What does that say about you!? "Well, I can see why you thought this guy in dark glasses was the Nazarene; I have no problem with you selling all your shit to build him a compound in East Bumblefuck, Whereverthehell; I completely understand leaving your home, your career, your family, and everyone you know to live there in a tent with tropical insects; and I'm totally down with letting strangers have their way with me sexually and violently! But you lose me on the cyanide! Dude! You have so much to live for!" So the next time the rest of society gets in line for an iProduct or votes for the candidate you dislike and you just have to say something, do us all a favor: bray like a sheep...?
Besides, Kirk fucking Cameron, a man who does not believe in evolution, said "You drank the Kool-Aid!" to his fellow Christian Christian in his execrable Holiday movie (ha, ha!) Kirk Cameron's Saving Christmas, for not Jesus-ing everything up as much as he did. HE said it. There is FOOTAGE of him saying it. That automatically means it is no longer cool or funny. You don't want to be like Kirk Cameron, do you? Stupid question!
You KNOW there's a off-radar compound and a mass suicide bubbling up in this asshole. Give him ten or fifteen years.
Showing posts with label kirk cameron. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kirk cameron. Show all posts
Friday, January 2, 2015
Thursday, December 25, 2014
Movie Review: "Kirk Cameron's Saving Christmas"
Merry Christmas, you horrors of the night! Want to know what I thought about Kirk Cameron's Saving Christmas...? (I put off writing about it for a bit; I thought I might draw a cartoon about it. But nah.)
Yes, Virginia: The Gil-Monster saw the lowest rated film on iMDB ever- AND HE SAW IT IN THE THEATER;* BOW DOWN BEFORE ME, JOR-EL!! Hearing that this beast was playing at the local Regal outlet, I saw it as a personal challenge! So my wife and I went on a cold Monday matinee to inhabit the theater with one other person sitting back and center- to make sure no one was going to set fire to the screen, I suppose.
The movie- and I use that term pan-galactically loosely as it's barely over an hour, even with credits and outtakes- opens with Kirk Cameron sitting at an easy chair. Sporting a gruesome beard that could only accompany a GPS-enabled ankle bracelet, Kirk espouses the joys of both Christmas and hot cocoa to an empty theater (save for me, my wife, and an old guy sitting back and center to make sure no one was going to set fire to the screen, I suppose). Exotic locations, like his real-life sister's living room and the interior of a SUV parked in a driveway, are where we are transported through the magic of film.
We spend a glut of the running time in the latter as it's where Christian, Kirk's fake brother-in-law, sulks because he, like a lot of people, gets sad at Christmas because that damn tree in his living room and that fat shitheel in the red suit steals Jesus' thunder- unlike a lot of people. In a moment that deserves to be in every horror film, Kirk climbs into the passenger seat and plays Six Degrees Of Jesus Of Nazareth with everything Christmas-y. For example, Christmas tree lots are just like the Garden Of Eden because of all the trees in them- only with a lot less warmth, nudity and animals. Instead of doing the logical thing- which is gunning the engine, driving headlong into a tree, and casting this former fucking conservative child-star homophobe FUCK out his windshield- Christian agrees with every one of Kirk's batshit bonkers allegories. Returning inside, he slides headfirst into the presents and a dance party ensues. There you go.
As short as this film is, it's also astonishingly PADDED. The camerawork is atrocious, with long slow-motion pans of Christian and his "wife" filling out the denouement, and a rock where the baby Jesus was born is dissolved to twice in the same scene. And the message... ugh. The message of this film is that so long as you can tie whatever you're doing to the Bible, it's all right. Be as materialistic as you like, says Kirk- really- because Christmas Day was the day that Jesus took material form. Uh-huh? UH-HUH...? There are even more slow pans on the turkey and the feast and Kirk's sister's fine china to emphasize this. And even the outtakes suck.
Irony: one of Christian's beefs with Christmas is the money squandered on expensive one-off gifts, instead of food and clothing for the needy. Never once does he complain about the million or so spent nurturing Kirk Cameron's insanity with a selfish ego vehicle. There's a reason Rotten Tomatoes is tearing him a new one... 0/5 notions that a worm's-eye-view of the presents beneath the tree resembles the skyline of the future city of Jerusalem.
...Speaking of worms, here's the first-born Seaver child busting one to "Angels We Have Heard On High", hip-hop style. Note Kirk's "O" face what with the floor being the most physical contact his crotch has received in years.
*The Merritt family would like it known that the money that would have gone towards theater admission to Kirk Cameron's Saving Christmas was instead donated to the starving children of the city of Panem; i..e., given to the first week gross of Mockingjay, Part 1. We felt Kirk Cameron could never be so gauche as to actually charge people to hear his message, given its importance.
Yes, Virginia: The Gil-Monster saw the lowest rated film on iMDB ever- AND HE SAW IT IN THE THEATER;* BOW DOWN BEFORE ME, JOR-EL!! Hearing that this beast was playing at the local Regal outlet, I saw it as a personal challenge! So my wife and I went on a cold Monday matinee to inhabit the theater with one other person sitting back and center- to make sure no one was going to set fire to the screen, I suppose.
The movie- and I use that term pan-galactically loosely as it's barely over an hour, even with credits and outtakes- opens with Kirk Cameron sitting at an easy chair. Sporting a gruesome beard that could only accompany a GPS-enabled ankle bracelet, Kirk espouses the joys of both Christmas and hot cocoa to an empty theater (save for me, my wife, and an old guy sitting back and center to make sure no one was going to set fire to the screen, I suppose). Exotic locations, like his real-life sister's living room and the interior of a SUV parked in a driveway, are where we are transported through the magic of film.
We spend a glut of the running time in the latter as it's where Christian, Kirk's fake brother-in-law, sulks because he, like a lot of people, gets sad at Christmas because that damn tree in his living room and that fat shitheel in the red suit steals Jesus' thunder- unlike a lot of people. In a moment that deserves to be in every horror film, Kirk climbs into the passenger seat and plays Six Degrees Of Jesus Of Nazareth with everything Christmas-y. For example, Christmas tree lots are just like the Garden Of Eden because of all the trees in them- only with a lot less warmth, nudity and animals. Instead of doing the logical thing- which is gunning the engine, driving headlong into a tree, and casting this former fucking conservative child-star homophobe FUCK out his windshield- Christian agrees with every one of Kirk's batshit bonkers allegories. Returning inside, he slides headfirst into the presents and a dance party ensues. There you go.
As short as this film is, it's also astonishingly PADDED. The camerawork is atrocious, with long slow-motion pans of Christian and his "wife" filling out the denouement, and a rock where the baby Jesus was born is dissolved to twice in the same scene. And the message... ugh. The message of this film is that so long as you can tie whatever you're doing to the Bible, it's all right. Be as materialistic as you like, says Kirk- really- because Christmas Day was the day that Jesus took material form. Uh-huh? UH-HUH...? There are even more slow pans on the turkey and the feast and Kirk's sister's fine china to emphasize this. And even the outtakes suck.
Irony: one of Christian's beefs with Christmas is the money squandered on expensive one-off gifts, instead of food and clothing for the needy. Never once does he complain about the million or so spent nurturing Kirk Cameron's insanity with a selfish ego vehicle. There's a reason Rotten Tomatoes is tearing him a new one... 0/5 notions that a worm's-eye-view of the presents beneath the tree resembles the skyline of the future city of Jerusalem.
...Speaking of worms, here's the first-born Seaver child busting one to "Angels We Have Heard On High", hip-hop style. Note Kirk's "O" face what with the floor being the most physical contact his crotch has received in years.
*The Merritt family would like it known that the money that would have gone towards theater admission to Kirk Cameron's Saving Christmas was instead donated to the starving children of the city of Panem; i..e., given to the first week gross of Mockingjay, Part 1. We felt Kirk Cameron could never be so gauche as to actually charge people to hear his message, given its importance.
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