Why can Cane get away with such flagrant violation of both law and logic? Well, because he’s played by Arnold Schwarzenegger. It doesn’t matter what role Arnold Schwarzenegger is playing; somehow, someway he’ll end up gunning down bad guys in extravagantly ridiculous action set pieces. That’s why he’s there. He could be playing a burger flipper and he’d still manage to find a rocket launcher behind the deep fryer. In fact, the inclusion of Schwarzenegger goes a long way to explaining not just the plot holes in End of Days, but the muddled mash of both the horror and action genres.  The storyline is standard religious horror: Satan millennially returns to Earth in human-form in an attempt to procreate and seed a spawn. If he does so before the clock hits the thousand-year-mark (in other words, before New Years in any new millennium), he unleashes the Armageddon. There’s a specific woman he must impregnate – for some reason or another – and Satan and his minions seek out the young lady, whilst meanwhile a group of priests attempt to assassinate her before Satan can get his hands (and other parts) on her.

However, the inclusion of Schwarzenegger dictates that action formula will follow despite a plot better-suited to horror. So – as Jericho Cane – Schwarzenegger is sucked in to the Satan spawn scenario and with him plenty of action familiars. There’s the aforementioned helicopter stunt, battles with armed assassin-priests, a fist-fight with a demonically-powered old lady and a stupefying number of shoot-outs with Satan considering he’s immune to man-made weaponry. It’s a bizarre amalgamation of both horror and action, with both the scares and thrills suffering significantly. Too much time is devoted to Schwarzenegger’s action antics to focus on any scares or generate the potentially-frightening plot. Among the scariest moments is a subway encounter with a freakish-looking albino (who then shatters into pieces like glass along with any generated scares) and a sex-scene where Satan simultaneously screws both a mother and her (of age) daughter, whose bodies morph together for some reason never explained.

On the action front, the largest dilemma is that Satan just doesn’t suit the conventions of the action genre. While a villain that presents too little of a challenge can be particularly un-thrilling, the opposite can be just as problematic: that is, a villain who has almost unlimited power. Pitting a security personnel up against the Lord of the Underworld just isn’t believable – even in the universe of an over-the-top action flick – and both plot-holes and concessions of logic become a necessity to keep the story moving along on typical action course. End of Days goes to significant lengths to make it clear that Satan – being the nigh invincible figure that he is – cannot be harmed by any weaponry, even while in his human-form. Yet this is an Arnie-action film and thus needs the requisite gun-fights, so scene-after-scene Schwarzenegger shoots at Satan with guns, and grenade launchers, and so on – and of course scene-after-scene Satan is flung to the floor, picks himself up and sets off after our hero as if he’s just been toppled over playfully rather than riddled with bullets. It’s not just repetitive, but almost entirely nonsensical. Similarly, a variety of fundamental story issues have been ignored to keep Satan from simply dicing Jericho Cane into countless pieces as he would in real life. For instance, early on in the film we see Satan in his true-form, a CGI, translucent flying-lizard that can zip through the air at high-speeds and ignite explosions. Then the next two-hours-plus is spent with Satan chasing around Schwarzenegger in a middle-aged man’s body, which is assumingly why he can never seem to catch Schwarzenegger. Why wouldn’t Satan ditch this body for a few seconds and simply blow Schwarzenegger up? In another scene Satan magically appears in Schwarzenegger’s apartment, which raises the question of why he wouldn’t just magically appear next to Schwarzenegger instead of chasing him around on foot for the entire running-length? Along with limitless power come many limitless inconsistencies, purposely designed to keep the story moving.

When it comes to scares or thrills or any of the things we as an audience normally expect of a good horror or action film, End of Days constitutes a complete failure. Nonetheless, End of Days does work on another level, a level that typically even the worst of Schwarzenegger’s films operates on.  This is the type of film where every other sentence is a one-liner and the plots lack of logic is compensated with much ensuing absurdity. Despite any attempts at genuine scares or thrills falling short, End of Days never ceases to be entertaining, and this makes up for many of its shortfalls. There’s something very hard to hate about Arnold Schwarzenegger being tossed around by an overweight old lady (albeit a possessed one) or randomly blending day-old pizza and drinking it. Plus, any movie which has Arnie telling the devil himself that he’s a “fucking choir boy” can’t be all bad. End of Days is absurd, ridiculous, and downright dumb for the most part, but it’s also quite a bit of fun. If you’re looking for an Oscar-winner, hell, if you’re looking for something semi-coherent, skip it, but if you want something that will keep you entertained for two-hours, it’s worth a watch. And despite all its flaws, that’s more than you can say of most horror films.

The flashback sequence which opens the film immediately highlights that this particular cannibal film is going to be radically different to the jungle adventures of Cannibal Holocaust (1980) and Cannibal Ferox (1981). This sequence is set in Vietnam as Captain Norman Hopper (John Saxon) and his platoon scoure the jungle for their imprisoned comrades. The two POW’s Charlie Bukowski (Giovanni Lombarde Radice) and Tom Thompson (Tony King) are so thankful to be released that one of them takes a big bite out of Hoppers arm. Unfortunately their time as Vietnamese POW’s has resulted in them becoming cannibals. The film never adequately explains how this happens, but it doesn’t really matter because we get to see plenty of shooting and the liberal shots of a soldier using a flamethrower. This sequence is marred somewhat by the cheapskate tactic of including library footage from the Vietnam War which is clumsily edited into the film. Visually at least the film gets on a more even keel when the actions shifts to Atlanta, Georgia. Hoppers nightmares are not the only manifestation of a mind troubled about events in Vietnam. The raw meat in his fridge becomes awfully tempting to him, and when seduced by the prick tease girl next door he has a little nibble on her. Meanwhile Bukowski is walking the streets (the film implies a failure in the psychiatric profession, but doesn’t have time to develop this critique) and pretty soon he’s dining on exposed human flesh. It doesn’t take long for the old Vietnam gang to get back together and pretty soon the cannibal contagion is spreading. Its up to seasoned veteran cop Captain McCoy (Wallace Wilkinson) to make the sure the spread is contained.

This film has more in common with zombie films than cannibal films. The rabies like disease that turns normal people into cannibals is really the disease of returning Vietnam veterans. The film doesn’t make any overt statement about this, but its fairly clear that the problem is the veterans themselves. The film offers no redeeming image of those who fought in the conflict, but instead seeks to emphasise their difference. They are all psychologically scarred by the conflict, but writer Dardano Sachetti goes a step further by suggesting the time spent in Indochina has altered the physical and cellular make up of these people. In this respect Cannibal Apocalypse belongs to a sub-genre of films dealing with returning Vietnam veterans that also includes Coming Home (1978), The Deer Hunter (1978) and First Blood (1982). In the shape of John Saxon the film has a protagonist with genuine pathos who is tortured by both guilt and the realisation of his difference. Radice also puts in a great performance as Bukowski whose demise in the sewers of Atlanta is the most memorable scene in the film. The labyrinthine tunnels and passageways of the sewer system offers an effective metaphor for the strangulating atmosphere of the Vietnam jungle, but just as effective is the urban nightmare of the inner city. This is as much a film about returning veterans failure to readjust to the concrete jungle. What elevates this above much of the product being produced in Italy at the time is the brilliant action scenes and numerous shootouts. Margheriti shows a real flair in his composition of these sequences that is distinctly lacking in the quieter moments of dialogue exchange. Not as gory or as violent as many of its contemporaries Cannibal Apocalypse has nevertheless endured considerable censorship over the years. Misleading title aside this is a solid and entertaining film which has more in common with Hollywood action films than the sadistic cannibal sub-genre which it is often placed in.

For me, a great horror movie produces similar feelings, though the fear is less visceral and the thrill more cerebral. Some of these on-screen simulations have the power to instill us with a sense of dread and despair that lasts long after the movie is over, but most don’t manage to live up to the hype. If the original [Rec] was as ominous and satisfying as my first rollercoaster experience, [Rec] 2 was like the wait in line before it – plenty of suspense but it left me wanting more.

It takes place immediately after the events of the first film as we follow a SWAT team that’s been called to the site of the infected apartment complex. After arriving on the scene they’re told to escort Dr. Owen (a virologist from the Ministry of Health) into the building as they carry out an “inspect and recognition” sweep of the building. It’s clear from the start that these men are doomed as even the SWAT chief isn’t sure who he’s taking orders from; but it doesn’t take long before the true nature of their mission is revealed.

We get a few different perspectives this time around since the SWAT team is equipped with cameras on their helmets, and there’s also a split in the narrative halfway through when we’re introduced to three teenagers who manage to sneak into the complex with a camcorder. These two storylines dovetail seamlessly but it doesn’t really go anywhere.

All of this does little to further the story and it feels more like a novelty trick to cover up the paper-thin characters and shoddy writing, as we see people we know nothing about get killed on-screen. Dr. Owen (played by Jonathan Mellor) was the only character I found interesting but we don’t learn enough about him.

Many of the details about the infection that were hinted at in the first movie are fully utilized here and this sequel uses almost relentless suspense and frequent shocks to keep the viewer glued to their seat. All this builds to a twisted, if slightly predictable, ending but I missed the slow burn and mysterious nature of the first film, which was the best thing about [Rec]. Once the secret behind the infection was revealed, the movie took on a far more sinister tone and didn’t give you a moment to catch your breath before the suspense was ramped up and the film sent you headlong towards the harrowing climax.

To be fair, I don’t think the duo behind [Rec] 2 (director’s Jaume Balaguero and Paco Plaza) were looking to leave the viewer with any lingering unease but, judging by the enormous critical acclaim they got for [Rec], I guess I was expecting something with a little more substance. Instead, this movie comes off more like a carnival ride, where the cheap fun stops soon after the film ends.

Even though I’d recommend it to anyone who’s seen the first film (which was much closer to the “real” thing), this is more of a crowd-pleaser with some predictable scares and plenty of twists and turns. It’s not as subtle or intriguing as the first movie but the thrills and scares from the first film are multiplied to create a suffocating atmosphere that rivals what we get in many modern horror films.

Discerning viewers will find plenty of flaws and inconsistencies but I don’t think director Ben Rock was aiming too high with this film – it’s a straightforward action/thriller with an alien theme and a few interesting characters. Simply turn off your brain and enjoy.

It opens with a camcorder-shot montage showing a tense group en route to Buck Lake, Arizona, where they’re hoping to find something. We then turn to Hastings Market, a grocery store, at closing time. The remaining employees are waiting for the end of their shift when a heavily armed group of masked infiltrators, led by Aaron Ritter (Carlos Bernard), takes the store hostage, refusing to let any shoppers leave and threatening to shoot anyone who tries. An off-duty cop manages to dispatch a few of the gunmen, including a guy named “Spooky”, before he’s shot himself.

The group eventually reveals their purpose: to stop an alien infestation that’s been traced to the store by their “psychic” (the now dead Spooky) and to kill the “King” so they can stop further infections. The only problem is that, without Spooky, they have no way of detecting who’s been infected or locating the “King”, and have to resort to some grisly methods before time runs out.

This has all been done countless times before and Alien Raiders really doesn’t bring anything new to the table. Apart from Aaron Ritter’s back story and the way the group formed, there’s a lot borrowed from classics like The Thing and Alien and probably a dozen other alien movies. But (judging by the title) I don’t think you’re supposed to be taking this seriously.

Many have complained that the setting of a supermarket got boring after a while but I think it worked well to create a sense of paranoia. It reminded me of Splinter (2008) in that the director used a minimalist approach to get a surprising amount of tension out of the environment he was working with. As a result, the freezer becomes a makeshift morgue, the inventory room becomes a holding cell for hostages and, towards the end, the supermarket aisles became dark, foreboding corridors as you wait for the showdown. The film is very, very dark in places, though I suppose this was to cover up the rough special effects.

Certain characters are surprisingly fleshed-out (for a low-budget flick) and the acting is good even when the dialogue makes you laugh. The fact that they got a bunch of unknown actors to deliver these lines adequately is an achievement in itself, but some of it is pretty bad. It makes the sporadic humor a welcome release in this average action/thriller.

Mclean burst onto the international scene with the gruelling sadism of Wolf Creek (2005). A film that took advantage of the torturous territory opened up by Saw (2004) and Hostel (2005), in order to offer a terrifying glimpse into a landscape that can swallow people up and leave no trace of their whereabouts. Mclean partly returns to this in Rogue, but this time it is the rivers, waterways and tributaries of Australia’s Northern Territory that prove difficult to escape. Mclean is concerned with the investigation of the pretence of civilisation – the thinness of community and of society, a reminder of the slender veneer that separates us from the world of sadistic torturers and killer crocodiles. In this sense Mclean is tapping into fears that emerge from the cosseted age of modern technology and suburbia – and if he continues to develop and refine this theme Mclean will become a major figure within the horror genre.

Rogue is perhaps the least auspicious vehicle for any kind of authorial argument in Mclean’s cinema. The film follows an outsider in the shape of American travel writer Pete McKell (Michael Vartan), he is a cynic whose latest assignment has taken him to a boat trip in the Kakadu National Park. His outsider status is over-emphasised and as a result the clichés begin to pile up as we are introduced to a multitude of boring characters aboard the boat. And then not a lot happens…however we are asked to admire the landscape, and the rich vegetation, canyons and clear blue skies are photographed beautifully by Will Gibson. The daylight scenes are simply glorious, and it becomes clear that the landscape is really the main character of this film. After following a mysterious flare (we never get to find out who shoots this flare and why) the boat ends up in territory that is overflowing with myths and legends. This idyllic paradise is then shattered by the arrival of your not so friendly neighbourhood crocodile, and the holidaymakers find themselves waylaid on a small island which will inexorably be covered by the tide. The main criticism of the film is in the infrequency of the crocodile attacks and the singular failure to invest the beast with the brooding presence that made Jaws such a terrifying cinematic experience. Up to this point however the film has built slowly but soundly towards a climax that is both ludicrous and impressive. We get to see plenty of the crocodile in its lair, and if earlier examples had failed due to a misuse of digital effects the crocodile here is very impressive.

This is a very competently made horror film, and in many ways it is far more enjoyable than Mclean’s earlier endurance tester Wolf Creek. The two films have shown that the director can innovate within generic conventions as well fall foul of cliché and predictability. This suggests that somewhere within Mclean is a horror masterpiece waiting to be born. Rogue lacks the subtlety and intelligence of Black Water, but is a very adept exercise in genre construction and confirms the continuing promise of is Australian director Greg Mclean.

District 9 is definitely unique, has its share of flashy action sequences and is not without problems but it’s far from shallow or gimmicky. This was easily one of the best movies I saw last year and, despite its minor shortcomings, I think it’ll be considered a sci-fi classic in years to come. It’s so weird (in a good way) that you can’t help but appreciate the fact you’re seeing such an original idea get the budget and support it deserves.

The film is set in an alternate reality and begins with documentary footage describing an alien spaceship that stalled over Johannesburg, South Africa in the 1980s. Nothing emerges from the ship and so the South African government sends a team to explore the alien craft and, after cutting their way in, they find it’s filled with a million alien creatures languishing in their own filth. They’re malnourished and in need of attention so the government sets up a temporary camp to help the remaining ones and so it can decide what to do with them. Initially, the government gives them basic rights as it would to immigrants but little else is done for the welfare of the new species, and the temporary camp soon becomes a militarized slum (District 9).

Skip forward about 20 years and, amid mounting public pressure, the government takes action and sets up a new area for the aliens (now referred to by the derogatory term “prawns”). It enlists the help of private military corporation Multi-National United to evict the colony and assigns Wikus van de Merwe (a junior alien affairs worker) the responsibility of overseeing the operation. Since the government legally needs the signed consent of the aliens before moving them, it’s his job to get their signature and deal with any unruly aliens. Unfortunately, things don’t go as planned and Wikus (played by Sharlto Copley) is forced to face up to some ugly realities.

The story, special effects and message are all great and the parallels to apartheid-era South Africa are clear, especially considering that director Neill Blomkamp based it on his experiences growing up in Johannesburg. It switches between “documentary” footage and the actual feature film to give it a sense of authenticity and there’s also a great sense of humor, which caught me off guard but didn’t seem out of place.

What I loved about this movie was how realistic it felt. I know that sounds crazy but most contemporary alien films have a showdown between the two species and it’s either us or the aliens as the aggressors. This movie treats the aliens more as a different race than as hostile visitors. Initially, there are no fireworks, no display of superiority; instead the showdown is in the form of a bizarre refugee crisis as South Africans begin treating their unwelcome neighbors with extreme prejudice.

The movie changes considerably during the last half hour and the pacing isn’t consistent but the action sequences will keep most viewers engaged. At times, some of the characters become caricatures of what they are meant to represent but this is a science fiction movie, after all. All in all, though, these are minor complaints in a movie this unique.

Though the film takes place in Romania, it is primarily in French. Clementine, played with a lovely charm and naturalness by Olivia Boname, is a teacher at a French school in Romania. She and her husband Lucas, a writer who doesn’t seem to do much writing (which is always the way writers are in movies, isn’t it? I suppose showing a writer writing is too boring), live in an old mansion in the process of being remodeled. She knows Romanian, but isn’t fluent. Lucas, played by Michael Cohen, doesn’t know any Romanian at all. This language confusion adds some interesting levels of tension to the film. If you’ve ever been in a non-English speaking country and tried to find a bathroom, for example, you’ll know that prick of frustration that comes when can’t express yourself as well as you’d like to. Now, imagine trying to explain to the police that your house is being terrorized by hooded figures in a language you don’t quite understand.

The film’s setting, a particularly lush and rural part of Bucharest, Romania in the summertime, is filmed in highly saturated color. At night, the greens are darkly vibrant, and during the day, the setting looks like an only half-tamed forest, the greens so bright that it’s almost hard to look at the screen. Moreau and Palud’s direction and use of color and space create a sense that we are almost on another planet or in another time. Although it’s probably a cliché that Eastern Europe is tired of, the movie plays on the idea of Romania as a place that is somewhat baffling, impenetrable, and dangerous to outsiders.

The film’s plot consists of almost nothing more than a young couple, living in a rambling, creepy house, being attacked in their home by several figures in hooded sweatshirts. The fact that we don’t really see the figures works quite well, at least for a while. As the film goes on, Clementine and Lucas are forced into smaller and smaller parts of their enormous house, a plot device that always surprises me when it works because I’ve seen it so many times before. When Lucas and Clementine make it outside, though (don’t ask me to explain exactly how—the house used in this film is labyrinthine and filled with inexplicably furnished rooms, such as one filled entirely with hanging plastic sheets) the movie starts to drag.

These home-invasion movies are terrifying because they take our worst fear—being harmed in a place that is supposed to mean comfort and safety—and make characters the target of often pointless and vicious crimes. So, when the movie moves outside the bounds of the house, it becomes a bit less effective and less believable. Clementine and Lucas’ journey through the woods reduces the tension in the movie and, unfortunately, leaves the viewer to think about some of the more puzzling aspects of the plot. For example, how did this group of intruders know the ins and outs of this sprawling mansion? Given the revelation at the end of the movie, this aspect is even more puzzling. Also, Clementine and Lucas, once they get out of the house, do the kinds of things that annoy people who don’t like to watch horror movies—they get in cars that are clearly not empty, they run when they should hide and hide when they should run, etc. But, of course, if I were being chased by hooded guys with crowbars, I might be a bit less than effective in my reasoning abilities, too.

Although Ils is effective, it isn’t the most original of horror movies. If you are a sucker for atmosphere and tension, this movie is a fantastic way to spend a couple of hours.

Doomsday has no shortage of ideas and a few of them are even good ones.  Starting out in present day, a deadly virus (deemed the “Reaper Virus”) rages through Scotland decimating the population. The government is forced to quarantine the country and contain the virus before it spreads, abandoning the people who are left behind for the sake of the greater good. Years later, the virus shows up in London, and after finding evidence of survivors in Scotland, a team is assembled to cross into the quarantine zone to see if these survivors have discovered a cure. Heading the team is the unbelievably badass Major Eden Sinclair (Rhona Mitra) and when I say that I don’t mean that as a compliment, I mean that there’s no way she’s as awesome as we’re supposed to believe. I don’t care how hot she is. The team’s mission is to find Dr. Kane (Malcolm MacDowell), who was rumored to be working on a cure before the quarantine was put into effect. Right about now is a good time to turn of the ol’ brain, because trust me, trying to make sense out of the idiocy that follows is not going to do you any good.

Rather than continuing with the intriguing premise that it begins with, the film switches into Mad Max mode as Sinclair and her team run into a tribal gang of cannibals led by Sol (Craig Conway). They’re actually fairly intimidating…that is until they speak. As they barbecue and feast on the team’s doctor, Sinclair escapes and heads into the mountains with Dr. Kane’s daughter. You see, Kane and his followers have successfully recreated a medieval society with castles, knights on horseback, the works. Sinclair is captured and ends up facing off against her executioner in an arena battle   la Gladiator. If I haven’t lost you yet, they go on to discover a Bentley that still runs (magic!) and return to Mad Max land to have a car chase with Sol full of explosions and various other things that fail to regain my interest.

I suppose there are a couple of admirable qualities present, one of them being Rhona Mitra. I may not find her that believable in the tough-girl role, I’m a die-hard Ellen Ripley fan so my standards are high, but she maintains a certain sincerity while everything else goes from silly to laughable. There’s also some interesting socio-political commentary present, but it’s not groundbreaking or anything you haven’t seen before and it’s obviously not too terribly important to the filmmakers.

The best way I can describe Doomsday is that it’s the deformed love child of a drunken orgy between 28 Days Later, Escape From New York, The Road Warrior, and Braveheart. It’s like Hollywood gave a 15-year old boy a ton of money and free reign to do whatever he wanted, coherency being the first thing to get thrown out the window. Had the film stuck with any one of the 17 ideas it had, I would have, at the very least, been able to take it seriously. But as it stands, the film suffers from ADD and loses all credibility as a result. I firmly believe that all filmmaking is self-indulgent and a form of self-gratification, but when that overrides the tenacity of the film, you have a problem. It’s a shame because the film has some solid gore, outstanding visuals, and it all looks great in hi-definition.

The Game sees Nicholas Van Orton (Michael Douglas), highly successful in the finance business, even more successful at being a complete prick, submerged within a professional “game”, recommended to him and paid for by his drug-addicted brother Conrad (Sean Penn) as a birthday present. Reluctant to engage in the game to begin with, which is shrouded in vagueness and requires countless private details/information of participants lives, Nicholas soon finds himself under constant surveillance, being followed by mysterious people, sent cryptic messages and other annoying sentiments of the sort. However, the game quickly spirals out of control, with Nicholas thrust into countless life-threatening scenarios, unable to quit the game amidst shoot-outs, the destruction of his home and his brother’s mental breakdown. As the circumstances become even more grandiose than before and the game increasingly appears as if there are no limits to what it can do (including seemingly predicting the future and participants being granted superhuman strength), it becomes quite apparent that there better be a damn good explanation by the end for all the nonsense ensuing. Assumingly, Fincher just buckled under the strenuous task of tying it all together.

Part of the problem is that no ending could be completely satisfactory after what occurs throughout the prior two hours or so. It’s not the usual action movie nonsense, such as walking away from countless high-risk situations without so much as a knick, although that is featured in abundance. The problem is that the game is on such a large scale that it isn’t feasible. It’s not just because police officers, cab drivers and pedestrians in on it, nor is it because entire hospitals, entire restaurants and entire businesses are in on it, but because nearly every single person Nicholas encounters is. It reaches the point where poor Nick and a small handful of others seem to be the only people in the whole San Francisco area not in on it. As well, the game relies entirely on knowing what Michael will do at exactly any given point in time, something impossible without the means of telekinesis. He’ll hail a cab at this exact moment. He’ll jump off a ledge at exactly that point. He’ll swivel his head in that exact direction at that exact moment. It’s enjoyable, good fun, but there’s an accompanying uneasy feeling about how it’s all going to turn out.

While no ending could be completely satisfactory, the chosen ending remains the least satisfactory. All the lapses in logic are abundant throughout the film and these plot holes are cast aside in one of the most absurd twists in film history. It’s not that it heaps a million more plot holes onto the already towering heap, but that it essentially strips every single character of any semblance of intelligence or real emotion. I’m tip-toeing around the events of the ending in case people intend to watch the film, but the reasons, motives and logic behind the “game” for those involved are so far outside the realm of any fictional reality that they would only be acceptable within the realms of comedy, and even then it would be a bit iffy (indeed, there was a comedy within the last decade that employed a similar conclusion for nothing more than cheap laughs, and yet was still more plausible than this utter nonsense).

The worst part is that The Game presents its conclusion wrapped up in pseudo-intellect and a pretentious condescension, attempting to present some sort of meaningful lesson to both its character and the audience. It’s got all the fixings typical of a smart thriller: Academy Award nominated/winning talent, a moody low-key score, a meaningful moral, but it’s got all the intelligence of something with none. I’ve seen my fair share of bad endings before: one film ended with the characters all dying in a random explosion out of absolutely nowhere, another with the characters turning to the camera before unmasking the killer and shouting in street jargon ‘Yo, we’re not going to show you who the killer is. See you in the sequel! Bye”, and yet another one where a hotdog vendor turned out to be some sort of CGI demon-thingy. However, these were all preceded by equally stupid events and at least did not pretend to be anything other than dumb finales to equally dumb movies. The Game was somewhat enjoyable throughout and then ended with the equivalent of one of those atrocious endings, but masquerading as smart.

There are countless fans of “The Game”, and while normally I’m not such an elitist snob about these sorts of things, if they truly believe this to be an intelligent film in any sense of the words, they’ve been duped. It’s got all the fixings of one, but that’s all. This is the intellectual equivalent of “Freddy Got Fingered”. “Freddy Got Fingered” ended with Tom Green being ejaculated on by an elephant. I truly believe that would be a more fitting ending for “The Game”. Sure, Michael Douglas being sprayed with semen by a sexually excited elephant would be beyond silly, but at least it would wear it’s stupidity on its sleeve, rather than layered underneath countless pretensions. It would be a slap in the face to the viewing audience who invested two hours of their time, but at least it wouldn’t presume them to be idiots.

The problem with “Jack Brooks: Monster Slayer” is that it completely lacks an understanding of what made these horror-comedies, that it tries so hard to evoke, great in the first place. Two-thirds of the running time is primarily devoted to the film’s hero, Jack Brooks, a plumber and college student, as he goes to class and attempts to deal with his uncontrollable bursts of anger. There’s nary a monster in sight for the greater part of the film, barely even a drop of blood or the slightest attempt at anything horror-related. It’s just plain boring, which is the worst thing a film of this nature can be. Jack Brooks himself is not all that interesting, at least not enough to warrant the amount of screen time he’s given. All one needs to know about him is revealed in the films first ten minutes and from that point on, whenever he’s not beating the pulp out of a monster (and he rarely does), he’s repeating the same old stuff and is not worth watching. The movie goes nowhere, following him around on way too many psychiatric sessions and several scuffles with classmates. The fact that the film is incredibly formulaic doesn’t help much either. “Jack Brooks” is missing the “fun” element, which is the most crucial aspect of all the films it pays homage to.

Eventually things do pick up. Jack Brooks battles a few creatures, some heads are crushed in, a few humans are slaughtered, and then it’s over. Just like that. All within the span of about fifteen minutes. Granted, it is a good fifteen minutes. The monsters are all fairly inventive (and done entirely in camera) and there’s some great gore gags (the best being a zombies head crushed in), but after sitting through seventy-five minutes of pure tedium, fifteen minutes of excitement just isn’t going to cut it.

That’s really all there is to it. I could ramble on about the acting, which is fairly well done (especially horror icon Robert Englund in what is a non-traditional role for him) or how the creature prosthetics are a nice throwback to the days when films didn’t use an overabundance of CGI, but it really doesn’t matter. “Jack Brooks: Monster Slayer” is utterly boring and while Jon Knautz obviously does have the talent to create a good film (once again, the last fifteen minutes are killer and “Still Life” was amazing – check it out), “Jack Brooks” completely misses the mark. It has its successes, but they don’t change the fact that it’s not very entertaining at all, which is the only reason horror fans watch these campy films to begin with. The screening I caught this at had Knautz and most of the cast in attendance. One piece of information I picked up was that a sequel was in development and that this time, it would focus more on Jack battling monsters as opposed to “the creation of a hero”. My advice: skip this one and wait for the sequel.