My Favorite Oriental Dish: Big Trouble in Little China

Kurt Russell is the man.

Seriously, his gritty and one-eyed persona Snake Plissken in "Escape from New York" created the blueprints for the videogame legend Solid Snake.

He rocked Antarctica in "The Thing" and even showed a little emotion in "Breakdown."

So when I was a lad (a measurement equal to ten or eleven years of age) I was enthralled with a movie that had no name.

I mean this literally. We had a VHS tape with no title that played an amazing film. I realize, looking back, that some bootlegging went on in my household (one of many reasons for the anonimity of this blog) but I won't spend this post revealing the nefarious criminal enterprise of my family.

The film in question was John Carpenter's sleeper/cult film "Big Trouble in Little China." If the length of the title throws you for a loop, just give it a minute. The film is full of 80's glory and macho attitude. Quite honestly, this is one of my favorite films.

It all starts with big-rig driver Jack Burton (Russell) coming into China Town, San Fransisco. He meets up with an old friend Wang (Dennis Dun from a few episodes of "JAG") and wins a bundle of cash. Wang can't front the bill, so Jack insists on taking him to wherever he keeps his cash.

But first, a trip to the airport.

Wang's girlfriend/fiance is arriving from China. Before he can sweep her up in a beautiful kodak way, three crazed Chinese gang members kidnap her and flee the scene. Jack and Wang give chase, only to end up in the middle of a huge brawl between rival Chinese gangs.

In the middle of a very finely choreographed ballet of death, three mystical figures appear from clouds of smoke. They are the "Three Storms," gods of Old China.

Why they've come to San Fransisco is another story.

Jack and Wang try to flee the scene, but another demon, Lo Pan, stops them in their tracks. They manage to escape, but lose the truck.

That's basically the crux of the story. First they steal a girl, then Jack's truck.

And you don't mess with Jack's truck.

Now plunged into a world of Chinese mysticism and magic, Jack has to lead a group of ridiculous Americans and a few capable Chinamen to take on a terrifying mob of demons and monsters.

Intrigued yet?

What makes this film stand out from among other 80's fantasy titles is the level of character development, namely zip.

Jack Burton doesn't need to change, from beginning to end. He is a BAMF and lives the lifestyle. At no point in the film does he act in any way distressed that his system of beliefs have gone out the window. Even when he's fighting an animated suit of armor, he soldiers on with American stubborness.

His cohorts in the movie act in the same manner. Gracie Law (Kim Cattrall from "Sex and the City") is kidnapped by a monster and has the same reaction as though an uncle were behaving crudely at dinner.

In fact, the only character who seems to realize the stakes is Lo Pan (James Hong from "Waynes World II"). His mortality is at stake, even if he is the villain of the movie. Egg Shen (Victor Wong from "3 Ninjas") also seems to realize the gravity of the whole affair, though he is more worried about his thriving tourist-trap business.

A lot of the film follows no real direction. Jack goes from place to place, trying to find Wang's girlfriend and never really questioning the tactics his friend's employ. Wang, for his part, is willing to beat the ever-loving hell out of men, women and animals to find his Miao Yin (You don't know her, just let it go).

Granted, none of this matters. The plot is solid enough to carry over until the action arrives, and Kurt Russell has the ability to make any action sequence a religious experience.

You honestly can't not like this movie.

It's cinematic gold. It's Carpenter's unicorn to the world. It's the best thing to come out of the 80's since Aha.

If I had to pick a seminal scene, one which really captures the feel of the flick, it's when Jack and a group of good ninja soldiers, led by Egg, traverse a deadly marsh underneath the city. When they round a corner, a crazy dragon worm thing jumps out and eats one of the disposables. Egg tosses something into the worm's hole and it explodes.

"It shall come out no more!" Egg shouts to absolutely no one.

"What?" Burton cries back. "What will come out no more?"

And no one answers. They just continue on, because no one really knew that guy's name, so no one has to mourn. In fact, no one liked that guy anyway. He wore his ninja costume wrong.

I can't say enough good about this film. And I don't have to. Just go watch it for yourself.

Thank me later.

I give this film ten floating heads-full-of-eyes out of ten.

Watch carefully.

Why Can't I Shoot Web From My Wrists: An Homage to the Spider-Man Trilogy

Ladies and gentleman, it's here.

Spider-Man 3 has arrived and the world may not be ready.

Or maybe Hollywood wasn't ready, but needed some money. Only time will tell.

Actually, time has already told us plenty. And the word isn't good.

Spider-Man 3 was the most disappointing thing to happen in theaters since they reenforced the bottom of popcorn boxes, ruining the lives of many perverted fifteen-year-olds.

(If you don't get that joke, have a smart friend draw you a diagram)

Before we begin, let me explain my love of your friendly neighborhood so and so.

I met Peter Parker in a simple comic in my brother's room one sad and rainy day, back when being a little brother meant keeping out of your sibling's rooms lest they beat the ever-loving piss out of you.

I read the detailed and beautifully drawn comic for hours (I was young, and words weren't my specialty in the brain section) before hearing those footfalls that stood as my cue to exit.

But I wasn't hooked yet.

A few years (and many solid whuppings) later, I was at my friend Tony's house when I saw an action figure. Now, comics only slightly interested me, but action figures? Those were my bread and butter.

And then came the video games.

And TV Series.

And cameos on lunchboxes.

After a few years of severe inundation, I couldn't say no to Spidy.

I read more comics, trying to discover how anyone touched by a spider could be popular. (I believe that spiders are in fact the creations of the Devil and will one day reveal their true purpose in trying to bring about a thousand years of evil domination on Earth)

Skip ahead a few years and you get senior year of high school, the most tumultuous time for any teenager. Girls have gone from scary to hot to scary again in the span of a few years, friends have come and gone with the frequency of an eighty-year-old man's twilight bathroom trips, and "Spider-Man: The Movie" entered theaters.

And it was awesome. Toby Maguire ("Cider House Rules") was not my first choice to play the destiny-fulfilling Peter Parker, but once I saw his performance as a whole I was quite impressed.

The effects took my pants, ripped them from my legs, wrapped around a length of pipe and beat my head in with awesomeness.

And Willem Dafoe as the villain? GENIUS!

I left the theater dancing, and for those of you who don't know me, dancing is not my specialty.

In fact, the last time I legitimately tried to dance, I nearly killed fourteen people and gave a young girl a seizure.

Skip ahead again and you reach the launch of "Spider-Man 2."

This time, the audience is geared up for the movie. "X-Men" and "X-Men II" already proved the validity of comic-book movies, and the first film rocked my face (as previously mentioned).

Alfred Molina (the bad politician from "Chocolate") starred as the nefarious Doctor Octopus, and by George he stole the damned show.

Again, the effects were out of this world. Again Toby showed off his acting prowress (though he sometimes makes this bird face which cracks me the hell up.)

My only doubts came at the end of the film, when Doc Ock dies in a heroic manner.

This was the beginning, and I should have seen it then.

The Batman series, arguably the best superhero series of all time (with some GLARING exceptions) suffered greatly when the creators chose death over imprisonment of famous villains.

The Joker (Jack Nicholson at his creepiest) stomped all over other bad guys, even the best of Bond, and scared the begeezus out of children. But then he died at the end of the film.

With "Batman Returns", Danny Devito stepped in as the Penguin (an uber creepy Penguin) but as he was only half a villain they had to bring in Michelle Pfeiffer as Catwoman (which could bring us to an amazingly awful Halle Berry film, but we'll skip that for now).

At least with "BR" they kept Michael Keaton as the Dark Knight. In "Batman Forever" Mike left and Val Kilmer (a fine actor who I shall not slander) came in to play. Val was a different style of Bruce Wayne, but his Caped Crusader stayed true to Keaton and the audience couldn't tell the difference.

However, the use of Jim Carrey as The Riddler and Tommy Lee Jones as Two-Face (which, by the way, is a REALLY CLEVER NAME--sorry, the writer in me weeps for the comic) brought the seriousness of the series down a peg or FIVE.

Also, given the fact that Val was a little distracting as a hero, they thew in Chris O'Donnel as Robin, and boy did his career soar after this.

Finally, we come to "Batman and Robin," decidedly the worst Batman movie to ever be made (yes, that includes the orignial "Batman: the TV Show: The Movie" with Adam West).

The quick rundown of bad decisions include:

- George Clooney as Batman
- Alicia Silverstone as Batgirl
- Governor Ahnuld as Mr. Freeze
- Uma Thurman as Poison Ivy
- A love triangle with B, R and PI
- Some of the worst dialogue since the silent film era.

The list goes on, but this diatribe isn't called "Why Batman Almost Died." Needless to say (needless because I just said it) I was very disappointed with the addition to the series.

Which brings me back to "Spider-Man 3."

Willem Dafoe bites it in the first movie, and Alfred Molina in the next. In the third, director Sam Raimi made a wee little mistake.

Three villains.

Yes, three: The Green Goblin (the Harry variant); the Sandman and Venom.

And none of them get nearly enough screentime. In nearly three hours of film, you find out so little about these characters as to render them pointless.

What you do find out about is how EMO they can make Toby Maguire look. And how he likes to dance in the street.

Sure the effects are great, sure they even managed to work in the Spidy-Gals, but WHAT WERE THEY THINKING?

Wait, I apologize. I can't really use that line. It belongs to the Angry Video Game Nerd, a man who needs no introduction.

Instead, I shall use this phrase: WHAT A TERRIBLE MOVIE!

I can't go into too much detail, as this has already gone on longer than intended, but look for a review to come soon.

In summary, why can't I shoot web from my wrists?

Watch Carefully.

Muscles And Rifles, Intelligence Not Essential: The Marine

Why do wrestlers make movies? Who started this ugly trend?

Looking back at such films as "Mr. Nanny" and "Santa With Muscles," I can't see where the alure was.

Nowadays it seems fair game for any juggernaut of the padded square to enter the silver screen with little more than a raised eyebrow to his name.

Granted Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson did an admirable performance as a gay man in "Be Cool," but such feats of acting prowess are few and far between in the wrestling world.

Now the WWE has thrown its bedazzled hat into the ring and started financing its own movies.

Lord have mercy on us all.

The newest "champion" of professional beating-the-crap-out-people is John Cena, a 300 pound mammoth of muscle and hate.

I bet he's got a big ol' brain banging around in there too, but you can be skeptical if you'd like.

Cena's fame landed him a sweet deal as the newest muscle-bound hero in "The Marine."

John Cena plays John Triton (these clever writers with their clever names) a marine who disobeys orders and ends up leaving the Corps. His much-too-hot wife (who gives "dumb blonde" new meaning) encourages him to settle down and relax.

So he takes a job as a security guard.

Here we meet the first of many characters without any purpose: The fat friend, aka, the comic relief. This guy does such a poor job of conveying any feeling that he's ditched after only a few scenes.

In fact, the whole security guard sequence has absolutely no purpose, except to show "how hard it is for a trained killer to adjust to society."

But really, the point of this movie isn't the emotional journey Triton must embark upon. It's about explosions.

Hot, nasty explosions that defy the laws of physics.

In fact, this movie is really just about defying physics (which I shall hence refer to as "magic", seeing as I have no idea how they work).

In "The Marine" wind doesn't blow, fire doesn't burn, glass doesn't cut, bullets are just about useless, and no physical harm comes from falling or being hit.

It's amazing people end up dying in this film.

In fact, the only people who are ever injured by bullets are the jihadists in the first scene and the odd bad guy who pisses off the big boss.

In one dazzling sequence, Triton sees his wife being pulled into his van by baddies. He charges at her, only to take a face full of fire extinguisher. Then, as he gets up, the gas station he's fifteen feet away from EXPLODES, throwing him through the convenience store.

When the dust clears, not only is he still sporting an unbroken face, his clothes aren't even singed.

There's not even a dark smudge where the smoke MAY have passed along him.

The entire film continues in this vein. It's not hard to see how folk can get a bad impression of action movies when this is what is being offered.

Another interesting little note is the severe lack of emotion from ANYONE.

Robert Patrick (the T-1000, and I shouldn't have to say what movie) is about the most believable character in the entire film, and he's a cliche spewing bad guy.

The token black man (and yes, he is token and plays his stereotype so humiliatingly that I was embarrassed) has absolutely no point in the film but to say things like "Oh right, blame the black man," or "I hate cops....and rock candy."

WHAT DOES IT MEAN? I DON"T KNOW!

In another touching scene, Triton jokingly tells his wife that his father molested him and his brother...and they both LAUGH!

This film is bad. It's cottage cheese five weeks past the expiration date bad. I can't say I'd recommend it to anyone other than die-hard WWE fans who really need the boost.

I have a question I'd like to pose to the writers: Why doesn't Mrs. Triton seem to give a rats ass that her husband DIES about four times in the film?

I mean, a few tears would have been nice. Or some form of emotional expression. Maybe even complaints because SHE'S A HOSTAGE!!!!!!!!!

This film gets a four choke-slams out of twenty seven.

Watch carefully.