The Last Match

Cliff Gaylor (Oliver Tobias) is a football player with an attitude. When his daughter Susan (Melissa Palmisano in her only screen credit) is framed and imprisoned for possessing illegal drugs while on vacation (in either a Caribbean or South American country, it’s never really made clear), Gaylor tries all the traditional channels to free her. 

First he goes to see the American Consul (Charles Napier, here credited as “American Consul”) but he’s useless. He then goes to see a local lawyer (Martin Balsam, credited as “Lawyer”), who is just as incapable. So Gaylor does the next natural thing: he calls his football coach (Ernest Borgnine, here credited as “Coach”. Sensing a pattern here?). 

Fired by can-do attitude, Borgnine promptly volunteers his entire football team to stage a commando raid on the prison. Of course, the whole team agrees and Coach “coaches” the mission by arming and training them in the usage of machine guns. All the team now need to do is get past sadistic prison warden Yashin (Henry Silva) and his underling prison guard. Will the team be able to punt, spike, blitz, sack, snap, and tackle their way towards reaching their (field) goal? Find out today!

The Last Match (1991) had a lot going for it: a strong cast, an amazing concept, and visually the sight of uniformed football players brandishing machine guns and grenade launchers looks awesome. Unfortunately, the movie only really kicks into high gear in the final third. 

Most of the movie is a staid and bland “my daughter’s in prison” drama with echoes of Midnight Express (1978). One thing Midnight Express did not have - unless we blinked and missed that part - is a bunch of crazed footballers on the rampage shooting machine guns at Henry Silva while Ernest Borgnine happily gives instructions through a headset. 

Ernest Borgnine calls the plays for the football
commandos final assault

Sadly, because of the rarity of this movie, most people haven’t gotten to see the cast of Borgnine, Balsam, Silva, Napier, and the footballers do their thing. Had this been released on VHS during the golden age of video stores, it might have had a shot at being a well-known cult movie. Instead, it’s just a not-so-well-known cult movie, which is only really justified by the last third.

That said there are some other noteworthy moments. There’s the strange “whosh-whosh” sound effects like someone’s waving a piece of cardboard in the air and a bizarre scene where Borgnine jovially recalls his wartime experiences. Other oddities include an evil drug dealer who has a shirt that simply says “NEWS”, and a subplot about saving an Elian-like kid from the third-world hellhole that is the unnamed country they’re trying to escape from. Also there’s a guy in the cast named Jim Kelly who’s a White guy and not the Jim Kelly we all know and love. 

So to recap, we’ve got unnamed characters, who are part of a football team that’s never named, running around an unidentified country. It really shouldn’t work. Yet somehow the silliness is pretty funny. 

Another good thing about the movie is that the whole “football commandos” idea is played completely straight. Where some filmmakers may have thought this a wacky or ironic idea – everyone here seems to think it was a perfectly sane concept for an action movie. And thank goodness for that. We get more than enough irony these days as it is. 

Fourth down and close quarters machine gun action

Just look at the training sequence where fully suited-up football players shoot machine guns at targets. That’s why we keep going back to these Italian productions. They always seem to deliver in some way, shape or form. But the fact that a quality idea like this didn’t really take off to its full potential shows that by 1991 things were starting to run out of gas. 

Much like Martin Balsam, who gives a bizarre, stuttering performance. Seated throughout he seems utterly confused as he reads his lines off a piece of paper. Compare that to Borgnine, who injects the movie with some much-needed energy during the interminable first and second portions. 

In the end, The Last Match has a killer concept, but ultimately doesn’t hit the mark. Or score a touchdown, if you will.

Still, there is one moment in the film where its bonkers premise fuses happily with the conventions of the action movie: the exploding helicopter scene. 

Our favourite moment occurs during the football team’s big assault on the baddies. A huge gun battle breaks out between the football commandos and the villains, who call in some rotor-bladed air support. 

Our heroes look like they might be in a sticky spot, but one of the team has a moment of inspiration. Splitting open a football, he packs a grenade inside, before punting it at the chopper. It’s a perfect kick and the football arrives at the helicopter just at the moment the grenade explodes, whereupon the leather ball and the whirlybird disappear in fiery oblivion.

Artistic merit

What can we say? This is a classic chopper fireball. Sure the effects are extremely ropey, but when we’ve just seen a man blow up a helicopter by volleying a grenade filled football at it, we’re not going to complain. We’re just going to sit back and enjoy the creativity, the imagination, not to mention the sheer lunacy of it. 

Exploding helicopter innovation

First use of an American football to blow-up a chopper. The trick has subsequently been repeated in Three Kings (1999) where Ice Cube attaches an explosive to a football before throwing it at a helicopter. 

Positives

You have to love the makers of this film for running with the concept and giving us appropriately football-themed chopper fireball.

Negatives

It might have been nice to see the wreckage fall to the ground or the pilot doing a classic “What the….” double-take. But like we said before, this no moment for petty grumbles.

Interesting fact

Director Fabrizio De Angelis has previous exploding helicopter form, having blown one up personally in Cobra Mission and overseen the destruction of another as producer on Cobra Mission 2.

This review is a guest post by our friends Brett and Ty from the great website Comeuppance Reviews. They're dedicated to celebrating action movies from the eighties VHS era. Check out their website and discover some forgotten gems. 

Domino

You don’t normally associate sex, drugs and violence with a Keira Knightley film. Nor, indeed, entertainment.

Typically, the straitlaced star is found in more genteel fare, giddily swooning in wholesome romantic comedies or staid period dramas. But after making her name with a slew of such sappy entertainments (Pride and Prejudice, King Arthur, Love Actually), our Keira had fallen foul of a fate more terrible than missing the debutants ball: typecasting.

Given her unblemished ‘English rose’ appearance and RADA-honed diction, Hollywood merely wanted to truss her up in a corset and have her coquettishly flirt with a succession of floppy fringed twerps. Understandably, Knightley didn’t want to spend her career playing toff totty so deliberately blasted her chaste persona with a canny act of career sabotage: Domino (2005)

The film is loosely based on the life of Hollywood l’enfant terrible Domino Harvey. The daughter of actor Laurence Harvey (The Manchurian Candidate), Domino ditched her dull Hollywood existence for the hedonistic thrill of life as a bounty hunter.

This exaggerated account of her unorthodox career sees our privileged moppet getting out of her depth in LA’s seedy underworld. After becoming unwittingly embroiled in the theft of $10m, she finds herself pursued by the Mafia and the FBI. Can she cut a deal with the mob? Can she escape arrest? Would you like more tea, Vicar?

As the tattooed, chain-smoking, nunchuck-wielding bounty hunter, our Keira wastes no time in gleefully trashing her choir girl reputation. Facing down a gang of heavily armed drug dealers, she defuses the situation by performing a semi-naked lap dance. Later she coolly orders the amputation of a man’s arm before indulging in a mescaline fuelled sex romp in the Nevada desert. At no point during these scenes does she perform an adagio on the pianoforte or suggest taking a turn round the garden.

There’s a guilty pleasure in watching the normally ‘butter wouldn’t melt’ Keira getting down and dirty. And you certainly can’t fault her ‘commitment’ to the part (producers preferred euphemism for actresses getting their nellies out). Unfortunately, the plausibility of her character is punctured every time she opens her mouth. 

With her cut-glass English accent and 18-carat pronunciation, La Knightley can’t quite deliver her lines with the throaty menace you’d expect of someone who tracks down violent criminals for a living. Ray Winstone, this is not. Her posh brogue renders threats like, “Listen bitch, we’ve got your fucking son. Give us the money or we’ll whack his arse” unintentionally comic. Rather than exuding fearful menace, she sounds like a crabby old Duchess, irritably complaining that the staff haven’t cut the crusts off the cucumber sandwiches again.

Unfortunately, other problems start stacking up. The chaotic storyline which is incapable of going five minutes without introducing a new sub-plot is as unsure as Madame Knightley’s performance. The film seems unable to decide whether it wants to be a biopic, action film or a critique of celebrity culture.

Story overload is compounded by sensory overload courtesy of director Tony Scott. Directing with his trademark ADHD style, the viewer is assaulted with a dizzying kaleidoscope of fidgety camerawork, fast cuts, flashbacks, and freeze-frames. And if that isn’t enough to induce a migraine, everyone’s second favourite Scott brother punctuates the action with a pointless voiceover. Adding to the confusion, said voiceover is also plastered all over the screen in caption form. By the time the exhausted viewer makes it to the end credits they’re left longing for some nice, quiet, soothing entertainment: like a Michael Bay film.

Still, this everything-and-the-kitchen-sink approach to filmmaking pays dividend for the viewer when Scott throws in an exploding helicopter.

During the film’s climax, Keira and her group of bounty hunters attempt to cut a deal with the Mob. The negotiations, which take place on the top floor of a hotel, turn sour and a three-way gun battle breaks out between the bounty hunters, the mafia and the FBI who keeping tabs on the situation from helicopters circling the building.

 During the ensuing melee, one of the mafia henchman opens fire at the helicopter, killing the pilot. Without anyone controlling the chopper, it swiftly crashes to the ground and explodes.

Artistic merit 

Given the extravagance with which Scott directs the rest of the film, the helicopter explosion is a most disappointing affair. The chopper simply disappears from view, after which we hear a crash and see a big flash indicating that it’s been blown-up.

One would have thought that Tony Scott would have grasped this opportunity to create an explosive scene of operatic intensity. Instead, there’s no wreckage, no drama, no nothing.

Exploding helicopter innovation 

Sadly, none to report.

Positives 

Every film is improved by the presence of Christopher Walken, and Domino proves no exception.

Cast as a fast-talking TV producer, Walken gives a performance that can only be described as Walken-esque. His idiosyncratic approach to pronunciation – where words are emphasised seemingly at random – make listening to his line readings an unalloyed joy.

Other actors can speak non-stop for half an hour without leaving an impression. Whereas Walken, in one brief interlude here, simply says “Wow” in his own peculiar syntax and steals the whole scene.

Negatives 

Throughout the film there’s a curious motif of a dying goldfish. Indeed, a flashback to Domino’s childhood shows her witness the unfortunate death of her fishy friend, and the adult version wears a goldfish tattoo on her neck. While hardly up there with Sophie’s Choice we’re presumably meant to ascribe some deep emotional significance to this loss of what is essentially a middling fairground prize.

Here’s another theory: many animal behaviourists believe that domestic goldfish are driven start, staring mad by going round in circles without ever getting anywhere. Having sat through this film, I may be beginning to see the significance of the motif.

Favourite quote 

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going? These people paid for a seminar.”

Interesting fact 

Look closely amid the welter of tattoos that Keira sports in the film and you’ll notice a curious reference to Blade Runner, which was directed by Tony Scott’s brother Ridley. Inked across the back of her neck is ‘Tears in the rain’ a nod to Rutger Hauer’s famous speech at the end of that film. Again, the tattoo seems to have no significance to the film, so it appears to be nothing more than an ‘in-joke’ between the two brothers. Hilarious stuff.

Review by: Jafo

Edge Of Tomorrow

"Smart, exciting, and unexpected" screams the quote emblazoned across the film's poster in a manner suggesting the producers were as surprised as anyone to find themselves with unqualified praise for a new Tom Cruise movie. 

Such astonishment is easy to understand. Since the Scientology bothering superstar's sofa jumping meltdown, the Cruiser's career has been on a steady downwards slide of franchise sequels and middling genre efforts.

At first glance, the Edge Of Tomorrow (2014) appears to be another unappetising entry in the recent Cruise canon, with familiar ingredients from Groundhog Day, Source Code, Starship Troopers and War of the Worlds reheated like some kind of cinematic casserole. But what should have been an indigestible dogs’ breakfast, turns out to be a surprisingly tasty sci-fi action thriller.

Tiny Tom plays Major William Cage, a media spokes-officer for the military who are fighting a war against alien invaders who have taken over much of Europe (true to form, perennial surrender-monkeys France are one of the first nations to fall). Leading the fight-back are General Brigham (Brendan Gleeson) - who is planning to defeat the aliens by launching a D-Day style landing on the continent - and Rita Vrataski (Emily Blunt) a super-soldier whose battlefield heroics have made her the war’s poster-girl.

But this isn't the battle-comfy Cruise character we've seen in the past. The smooth-tongued media man prefers to enjoy a war - as any sensible General does - as far away from actual combat as possible.

Unfortunately for him, Gleeson has other ideas and sends the cowardly Cruise kicking-and-screaming to the front line on the eve of invasion (for an idea think Blackadder’s General Melchett sunnily despatching Captain Darling to the trenches). Cruise is quickly fried alive in the Somme-esque disaster, but gains the ability to replay the same day with each subsequent death - a skill he must use to save the world. 

The Cruiser: as surprised as anyone
that critics liked his new movie

It's in one of these failed attempts that Cruise and Blunt arrive at an abandoned house in the French countryside, which like all Gallic retreats happens to have a small helicopter in the back garden.

Cruise suggests to Blunt that it would be a great idea for them to kick back, enjoy some wine, and see where the evening takes them, rather than flying the chopper to the certain death he's seen on past attempts. Blunt weighs this up, and then considers certain death by chopper crash preferable to a sweaty triste with our perma-grinning friend.

The chopper has barely lifted off the ground before it swoops into the garage. The only thing missing is a smug Cruise standing over the wreckage, arms crossed, head shaking, uttering the line 'what did I just tell you?'

Artistic merit 

In truth, it's a pathetic crash. Cruise's character knows it's coming, we know it's coming, and when it does arrive we are denied a large explosion in favour of several small fires. Mercifully we only see this sequence once in the film, despite Cruise's character telling us he's experienced it multiple times. 

Do passengers survive? 

Emily Blunt chooses death by exploding helicopter
over sex with Tom Cruise

No. Blunt's character survives long enough for some dialogue, before predetermined death. 

Positives 

For anyone that's been annoyed by the recent crop of Cruise films, or for anyone that just wants to slap the perennially perky Cruise in the face, the Edge Of Tomorrow provides a rare treat. Large sections of the film resemble Sean Bean's legendary 'death reel' allowing schadenfreude fans to revel in the sight of Cruise being sliced, crushed, shot, squashed and toasted innumerable times.

There's also one marvellous moment where after tiring of another failed attempt at saving the world Top Gun Tom decides 'oh fuck it, I'm off to the pub' where he boozes it up with the locals.

For a film that's stolen elements from so many different films, Director Doug Liman (of Bourne Identity fame) does an admirable job in making the end result surprisingly intelligent and enjoyable. Cruise's transformation from battle-shy weasel to inadvertent soldier just about works, while Blunt is at her best when coldly opting to take the option to reset the day into her own hands.

Negatives 

However, the ending does seem somewhat implausible. Cruise is able to use his knowledge of the future to convince a group of soldiers that don't know him to go on a suicide mission to Paris, yet at no point can convince anyone in the military command that they need to change their battle plans. The Deus Ex Machina at the end unravels the minute you prod at it. 

Favourite line 

Major William Cage, on hearing his assignment into the battlefield: "While it is an honour General, I am afraid I'm going to have to decline. I can't stand the sight of blood, not so much as a papercut."

Interesting fact 

The film was released during the 70th anniversary of the D-Day landings during World War 2.

Review by: Joe

5 Days Of War

“The first casualty of war is truth,” reads the sombre quotation at the start of this ridiculous movie.

Well, they said it. In 5 Days Of War (2011), truth isn’t just a casualty – it’s punched in the nuts, water-boarded then blasted by a firing-squad before the opening credits have even finished.

Supposedly ‘based on real events’, this war drama tells the tale of plucky Georgia’s heroic resistance in 2008 against a Russian invasion. Most independent commentators reckon the blame for this messy conflict needs to be shared – but you’ll find no such namby-pamby even-handedness here.

The reason why is simple: the film was part-financed by the Georgian government. (Bizarrely, one of its ministers is even listed as a producer.)

The result, unsurprisingly enough, is a gallumphing piece of pro-Georgian propaganda. Swivel-eyed and angry, the movie ramps up the anti-Russian rhetoric so much it’d bring a blush to the cheek of a Fox News presenter.

The ‘story’ centres on Thomas Anders (Rupert Friend), an American journalist in Georgia to report on the war. While helping a Georgian family flee the fighting, he films Russian soldiers cold-bloodedly executing civilians – then has to daringly escape through the frontlines with this damning evidence of evil Russkie war crimes.

Will he make it? Could the truth finally be revealed to the world? Does anyone remotely care? No.

Rupert Friend the star of 5 Days Of Snore

There’s another odd, even schizophrenic, aspect to this movie. Clearly, the Georgian tourist ministry – fearful that two hours of watching the country being reduced to rubble might discourage potential holidaymakers – has insisted on the inclusion of lots of idyllic ‘travelogue’ imagery showing off the region’s beautiful old towns and balmy countryside. In some scenes, you half-expect Judith Chalmers to wander into shot and start extolling the virtues of the unspoilt beaches.

But then the action will suddenly lurch back to a graphic depiction of war-time horror (a wedding celebration ending in a bombed bloodbath, for example). Back and forth it goes, between sunny vistas and blasted buildings, cute pavement cafes and corpse-littered streets. It’s like watching Machete Kills and Wish You Were Here having noisy, confused sex. And not in a good way.

Misfortune seems to be heaped onto this movie. Already staggering under the weight of Georgian governmental expectation, its credibility is further lumbered by two titanically over-the-top performances from a couple of has-been stars: Andy Garcia and Val Kilmer (of which, more later). And then there’s the ultimate death-knell for any film: Renny Harlin.

Ah, Renny. Over the years, the scarecrow-coiffured Finn – a favourite bete noire of this website – has been accused of many things, but subtlety and sophistication are not among them.

The dead hand behind such clunking high-concept fare as Die Hard 2, Deep Blue Sea and Cliffhanger, our Renny deals pretty much exclusively in explosions, car chases and gunfights. Indeed, his Nordic disposition seems almost offended by such quaint cinematic conventions as plot and character development.

Renny Harlin directs 5 Days Of Bore

Harlin’s stylistic peccadilloes are most readily apparent here during a scene in which senior government figures anxiously discuss the country’s fate. Confronted with people doing nothing more than actually speaking to each other, Harlin’s unease is palpable. You can almost sense his panic: ‘What is this? Two people, in a room, talking? Oh my god – there’s pages of this stuff’.

Realising the potential for cinematic catastrophe (ie. three straight minutes without an explosion) Renny solves the problem with admirable simplicity: he just presses the directorial fast-forward button. Suddenly the actors – who’d previously been speaking in measured and actorly tones – start rattling through their dialogue at machine-gun pace. It’s like they’re taking on bets at Ascot.

Complex plot points – whole swathes of story – are hurled back and forth like hand-grenades, just so the Renny-nator can get back to blowing some shit up.

Still, such pyromaniacal intent was always going to pay dividends for readers of this blog. And when a big Russkie Mil-Hind 24 hooves into view, shooting up heroic Georgian soldiers, you can be sure Renny isn’t about to cut away to a quiet scene of contemplative dialogue. Oh, no. It’s chopper fire-ball time.

With his comrades under fire, one of the Georgian grunts whips out a rocket launcher and blasts the helicopter. Damaged, the whirlybird spins into the top of a building, before tumbling to the ground and providing our exploding helicopter ‘money shot’.

Artistic merit

As already mentioned, if there’s one thing old Renny knows about (and we’ve checked: there is only ‘one thing’ he does know about) it’s how to blow things up. Thus, the audience gets to really relish the ailing chopper’s death throes before seeing its final demise – all in lustrous, fiery, CGI.

Exploding helicopter innovation

Nothing to report, sadly. This is a little disappointing, as the Nordic numpty has provided plenty of quirky helicopter explosions in previous films – see Cliffhanger, Deep Blue Sea, or 12 Rounds for examples.

Positives

Andy Garcia's 5 Accents Of War

For schadenfreude enthusiasts, the undoubted highlights of the film are the eccentric cameos from Andy Garcia and Val Kilmer.

Garcia has the juicier role as Georgian President Mikheil Saakashvili. Cast because of his physical resemblance to the great man (and, let’s be frank, because he’s generally ‘available’ these days), his performance comes crashing to the ground as soon he opens his mouth.

Try as he might, our perma-brylcreemed smoothie is simply unable to maintain a Russian growl, and his weird Cuban lilt keeps leaking through. No true film buff has really lived till they’ve witnessed his ‘Nyet! Nyet! What-a are ya doin-a, senor comgrim rade?’ schtick for themselves.

Along with Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins and Ray Winstone’s catastrophic ‘American’ in Fool’s Gold, this is one of the worst accents committed to film.

Val Kilmer has a smaller role as a maverick, slightly unhinged journalist: though, in fairness, his role is the only thing about him that is small. The striking, blonde hunk of Top Gun has long since been subsumed into layers of celebrity blubber. Big Val’s famously hearty appetite for drink, drugs and however many burgers are on offer is, in a sense, now literally written all over him in rubbery bands of flesh.

Val Kilmer's 5 Bellies Of War

His entrance to the film is spectacular. With little warning, the shocked viewer is confronted with a paunchy, long-haired Val, luxuriating naked in a bubble bath. It’s like Jabba the Hutt’s bigger brother has slithered into the wrong film. It’s a truly magnificent sight.

In his (successful) day, Val was famous for on-set strops, minion-bullying and ridiculous ‘remove all the red M&Ms’-style diva behaviour, so there’s a certain grim satisfaction in watching the old fool get his gut out for a few paltry shekls. It can comfortably be assumed that the Big Man is these days administering to his own M&M compartmentalisation needs.

Negatives

The movie spends 15 minutes establishing a traumatic back-story for Anders, involving a friend and fellow reporter dying in his arms while in Iraq. Throughout the film, various characters tell Anders he needs to move on from this trauma in a manner that strongly suggests a looming moment of dramatic catharsis. However, nothing ever happens.

One can only guess that Harlin, petrified by the prospect of shooting scenes featuring actual emotions, quietly ripped those pages out of everyone’s script.

Favourite line

“Everything is easy when you wear a mini-skirt.” Thankfully, this line is not uttered by Val Kilmer.

Review by: Jafo

Battledogs

…or World War Werewolf, as this film - for very important legal reasons – is assiduously not called.

That’s because Battledogs (2013) is a ‘mockbuster’, one of those not-so-thinly veiled (but just veiled enough) rip-offs of a mega-budget blockbuster.

So, after zombie extravaganza World War Z staggered into cinemas in the summer of 2013, those masters of the cheap knock-off at The Asylum quickly bashed out Battledogs.

The basic plot of the two films is uncannily similar, with both featuring a world imperilled by a mystery virus that turns people into murderous savages. But to ensure there’s no payday for the copyright lawyers, Battledogs cheekily swaps World War Z’s human-chewing zombies for werewolves. A sort of werewolf in zombie clothing, if you will.

However, there’s always an inherent problem with ripping off a squillion dollar budget movie – namely, the lack of a squillion dollar budget.

So while World War Z saw A-list Hollywood hunk Brad Pitt literally scour the world (and bizarrely Wales) looking for a zombie cure, the made-for-cable Battledogs has acting no-mark Craig Sheffer (who he?) skulking round the inside of a few deserted buildings. Jerusalem, Korea and packed USA city centres are notable by their absence.

Where World War Z gave us Grand Guignol horror as hundreds of innocents were brutally chewed to death, Battledogs’ more modestly staged scenes involve little more than a solitary victim being gently nibbled to death by a wonky CGI dog. There’s more genuine nail-biting suspense in a good episode of Lassie.

Bill Duke: contemplates the fate of mankind, or
possibly just his shopping list

The low grade vibe also extends to the supporting cast, a random assortment of semi-familiar faces who are clearly as bored by the film as the viewer. A near-comatose Bill Duke (Predator, Commando) briefly appears as the President of the United States. All good leaders should display a quiet stoicism, but this performance borders on catatonic depression.

Elsewhere, Ernie Hudson (Ghostbusters) can barely contain the sense of ennui as he ticks off the minutes before his character is gnawed to death. And Ariana Richards (who you’ll dimly remember as the teenage girl terrorised by dinosaurs in Jurassic Park) offers a stark reminder of why it’s been six years since she last appeared in TV or film.

Alone among the cast, Dennis Haysbert (24, Heat) valiantly tries to add a touch of class. Fighting against the ropey dialogue, he delivers his lines with all the pained seriousness of a Shakespearean soliloquy, but the poor lad shouldn’t have bothered. This film is Much Ado About Nothing.

Battledogs is like the suspiciously cheap Gucci bag you bought on holiday, which fell apart the moment the plane landed back home. You knew all along it was a cheap knock-off that would quickly disappoint, but went ahead anyway on the off-chance it might actually pass for the real thing. You really should have known better.

The titular "Battledog" in all its wonky CGI glory

Luckily for this blog, the one authentic pleasure in this film is the helicopter explosion. It occurs when the military are sent in to ‘reclaim the streets’ of New York from the fuzzy (and not at all zombie-like, lawyers!) fiends. A squadron of helicopter gunships flies in to pursue the rampaging werewolves down the streets.

As one whirlybird hovers next to a skyscraper, a werewolf suddenly smashes through one of the building’s upper windows and straight at it. Stunned by the assault, the pilot loses control of the chopper and crashes into the side of the building. Ba-doom!

Artistic merit

The werewolf’s daring assault on the helicopter is filmed in slow motion so we can fully enjoy the improbability of what we’re witnessing. Gloriously, the pilot gets to perform an obligatory “What the...” line, before losing control of his chopper and crashing it.

The classic “What the…” exclamation in films is an interesting phenomena. No matter what the scenario, any expendable extra will always have just enough time to utter those fabled two words, yet never sufficient time to actually complete their sentence.

Deep down, all of us must surely long to meet our maker in a similarly poetic way.

Exploding helicopter innovation

The first lupine-related exploding helicopter.

Positives

Sometimes, all you can do is laugh. Hopeless as the stuff of nightmares, the crap werewolves are capable of raising the odd titter.

Negatives

As the film’s hero, Craig Sheffer is blandly anonymous. Cutting it neither as an action figure nor a top boffin, he has zero screen presence. In his scenes with the Atari-style CGI werewolves, you start to admire their method.

A better actor (and it’s hard at this point to think of a worse one) could perhaps have built an interesting conflict with Dennis Haysbert, the only decent actor in the movie.

Interesting fact

This isn’t the first time Sheffer has come up against werewolves. In the late Eighties, he was involved in a cartoon series spin-off from Teen Wolf.

Review by: Jafo

Machete Kills

Is there a more unlikely action hero than Danny Trejo?

At the coffin-dodging age of 70, the hopes of most actors run no further than a warm cocoa and a nicely paid ‘exposition cameo’. But not our Danny, who’s instead decided to spend his pensionable years carving out (literally in his machete wielding case) a new career in action cinema.

It’s an improbable development, with an incredible story behind it. The two Machete films – Machete (2010) and Machete Kills (2013) – which have catapulted Trejo from bit-part status to leading man fame actually had their as a spoof (yes, spoof) trailer for Quentin Tarantino’s Grindhouse project. It’s now a fully blown franchise.

The story begins with a gang of Mexican revolutionaries threatening to nuke the United States. With the fate of the nation at stake, American President Charlie Sheen (taking a rare day off from getting ‘crack’ed up to the eyeballs and going on TV to talk gibberish) calls in everyone’s favourite oversized-knife-wielding Mexican to save the day. Dangling the prize of a US green card before him (because what else would any Mexican want?), the Prez hires Trejo to infiltrate the gang and stop the plot. But as our crater-faced curmudgeon cuts a steel-edged swathe through the villains, he learns that the nuke threat is just a diversion from another, much more deadly, conspiracy. Yikes.

So, having just celebrated his seventieth birthday, how does Trejo – the only man who can consider Arnold Schwarzenegger and Sylvester Stallone up-and-coming young pretenders - fare as an action movie hero?  For the most part, commendably well. Trejo has an undeniable screen presence, even if it’s in large part due the fact he looks like a tattooed Easter Island statue (only with less emotional range).

Danny Trejo: Like an action movie Leslie Nielsen

Here, that stoicism (or inability to act, take your pick) becomes a useful trait. With an intentionally preposterous plot, and the violence played for laughs (the inventive use of intestines is a series trademark), it’s important that somebody appears to be taking matters seriously and Trejo provides a poker-faced calm at the eye of the storm.

In many ways he’s like an action movie version of Leslie Nielsen who successfully dead-panned his way through 20 years of genre spoof silliness. Just don’t expect Trejo to warn someone not to call him Shirley, when brutally disembowelling them is so much quicker.

Still, it’s not all good. Despite the muscly Mexican’s best endeavours, Machete Kills is an uneven watch, jack-knifing from moments of inspired gonzoid invention to self-indulgent onanism. And there’s only one culprit: Robert Rodriguez.

Not content with writing and directing the film, Rodriguez also edits, photographs, produces and writes the music. Between takes he probably shoved a broom up his arse and swept the floor as well.

While you can’t fault this hands-on enthusiasm, the absence of collaborators or critical voices means the film frequently stalls, as Rodriguez amuses himself with another redundant scene.

Exploding Helicopter couldn’t help thinking the film would’ve benefitted from the involvement of an old-school cigar-chomping Hollywood producer. The film badly needed the kind of artistic philistine who’d happily rip 20 pages out of the script without troubling himself about the integrity of the director’s artistic vision.

Still, there’s one happy by-product of Rodriguez giving full reign to his imagination: a truly inspired and unique exploding helicopter.

After kidnapping Mendes – the Mexican revolutionary holding the USA to ransom – Trejo tries to make his escape in a chopper, but is pursued by machine-gun-firing goons in a speedboat. Simply flying away would be much too straightforward for this film, so Trejo leaps from the helicopter into the speedboat and starts doffing up the henchmen. Having dispatched two of the goons in double-quick fashion, Danny Boy deals with the final baddie in virtuoso fashion.

With the pilot-less chopper still weaving about in the sky, Our pock-marked pensioner grabs hold of a fishing rod that’s handily lying around. He casts the line and hooks the helicopter on the end like it was a prize marlin. Attaching the rod to the troublesome villain, he triggers the spring-loaded reel causing him to be violently wrenched out of the boat. Whizzed towards the chopper, the hapless henchman smashes into the whirlybird which, of course, explodes.

Artistic merit 

Creative, inventive, entertaining, this is the very best kind of exploding helicopter. Watching this scene, celebrating it, it’s why we run this website.

Exploding helicopter innovation 

Only known use of a fishing rod to destroy a helicopter.

Do passengers survive? 

Yes, Trejo and Mendes survive having made a highly improbable leap from the helicopter.

Positives 

Rodriguez provides one of Exploding Helicopter’s favourite supporting artists, William Sadler (Die Hard 2, The Shawshank Redemption), with a juicy little part as a redneck Sheriff out to lynch Machete.

Always a classy presence, Sadler has largely spent his career in middling films and TV work. If you were to draw up a list of actors who deserves to be better used then Sadler would surely have to be on there.

Negatives 

Unfortunately, not every casting decision is as good. Lady Gaga appears briefly as ‘La Chameleon’, an assassin whose nickname comes from her mastery of disguise. The character actually serves little purpose in the film, other than to chew up screen time and provide Rodriguez with the opportunity to crowbar in pointless cameos from all his Hollywood chums, such as Cuba Gooding Jr, Walton Goggins and Antonio Banderas. (Though in fairness, this is probably the biggest acting gig Cuba Gooding Jr has had in about a decade.)

Favourite line 

Danny Trejo strikes a blow for Luddites everywhere: “Machete don’t tweet.”

Interesting fact 

Apparently this is the eleventh time Danny Trejo has appeared in a Robert Rodriguez film. And with the film dangling the prospect of a further sequel - Machete Kills Again – it looks like the partnership isn’t going to end here.

Review by: Jafo

Still want more? Then listen to the Exploding Helicopter podcast episode on Machete Kills. Listen on iTunes, Podomatic, Stitcher, YourListen or right here and now.

Godzilla

Who would have guessed that, in a movie featuring 300-foot tall, fire-breathing monsters, the most unbelievable characters would all be human?

Oh, dear. When promising newcomer Gareth Edwards was handed a £160 million budget for only his second movie – on the strength of his lo-fi (and low budget) debut hit, Monsters – hopes were high. But sadly, the Wunderkind has produced a steaming great pile of dino-plop.

Still, there is at least some good news: the monsters themselves are fabulous. They look sinister, they move convincingly and their guttural, ear-bending shrieks send a shiver down the spine. Besides Big G himself, there’s a couple of black, spindly, bird-like giants (called Mutos) who entertainingly go on a monster-sized ASBO rampage across the globe.

As for the director’s much-criticised decision to do a very slow reveal of the beasts (for the first hour, all you get are snatched half-glimpses or blurred images on TV screens), it actually works a treat. The gradual build-up of tension makes for a spectacular visual treat when the monsters are finally revealed in their full glory.

Equally, much of the disaster-style footage is spot on. A succession of images – ruined, tottering skyscrapers; battleships tossed about like bath toys; wrecked urban landscapes – really stick in the brain.

But then the actors have to go and ruin it all by speaking.

It’s true. The monsters may be levelling entire cities, but the film itself is ultimately brought down by a hokey plot, terrible dialogue and ropey acting. No-one emerges unscathed.

Bryan Cranston, afforded almost demi-god status after his turn in Breaking Bad, looks like a man who’s just realised how terrible the film is. He croaks and whines ineffectually for a bit, then wisely decides to die half an hour in.

Leading buff-boy Aaron Taylor-Johnson utters not a single memorable line, and merely bounces around from one action scene to another.

But it’s in the ‘war room’ that things really take a tumble. David Strathairn joins a bevy of lantern-jawed military types to bark out the usual guff about ‘having a visual’ and ‘needing situational awareness’.

Such scenes are rarely inspiring, but in Godzilla they are comically poor. Even the basic walking-and-talking choreography is noticeably bad. You can actually see actors stepping three paces to the left to find their mark before delivering a line. It’s desperately hammy stuff.

Ken Watanabe praying for his bowels to move

And it gets worse. Ken Watanabe, brought in to be the ‘Japanese’ guy, is little more than a cartoon. Every line he utters is a wise proverb, delivered with a pained look suggestive of constipation worries. His performance makes Cato from the Pink Panther films look nuanced.

By the time he ponderously pulls out an old time-piece (‘It…was…my father’s’) that supposedly froze at the moment Hiroshima struck, you haven’t the heart to point out a wind-up watch wouldn’t actually have stopped.

But, in a crowded field, poor Sally Hawkins carries off the worst actor accolade. Constantly fretting, worrying and semi-sobbing, she’s resembles nothing more than a modern-day Stan Laurel.

The piss-awful weakness of the human story here is strange, because the strength of the central characters’ relationship in Edwards’ Monsters was its defining quality. It all strongly suggests the studio leaned heavily on the young director to make a bland and accessible piece of pap.

All of which begs the question: why does Hollywood keep on giving blockbuster movies to auteurs? Suppose, say, someone was really skilled at flying a model airplane; you wouldn’t sit them in the cockpit of a commercial airliner and tell them to hit the thruster. But Hollywood does this all the time.

The very skills that make Edwards a good small movie-maker – strong personal vision, an ability to improvise, skilful handling of a small cast – make him a terrible fit for a baggy, committee-led blockbuster.

This point was demonstrated last year when the hugely talented visionary Guillermo del Toro managed to make the $190million Pacific Rim one of the most unwatchable films in recent memory.

Godzilla ponders the absence of a heavyweight
acting co-star

The problem is simple. A blockbuster director is a particular kind of beast – usually a high-functioning sociopath – who’s generally mad enough to take on a studio, loudly threaten to resign, Fed-Ex their own doo-doo to the company president etc. Auteurs just can’t achieve such giddy heights.

Put it this way: you probably won’t see a lo-fi indie film about disenchanted shop clerks directed by Michael Bay coming to a cinema anywhere near you soon. So why are the sensitive types taking on such huge projects, especially when the results are so consistently dire?

And be assured, no cliché is left un-mined in this tosh. Cute kid noticing the monster first? Of course. (Twice.) Loved one trapped fatally behind glass door and sharing final moments with lover? Oh, yes. Hero improbably finding himself eye-to-massive-eye with the giant monster? Yes, about five times – it’s almost like they’re dating.

Ultimately, beset by demands to make a film anyone can like, Edwards has produced something that very likely no-one will give a toss about. Ironically, he is gobbled up by his own monster movie.

Artistic merit

It’ll be no surprise to learn the chopper scene is poorly handled. Facing a monster with a reach of around 400-feet, the chopper pilot goes in shooting and flies right under its left nipple. Unsurprisingly, said beastie immediately swats chopper. Duh. What did the pilot think was going to happen?

Exploding helicopter innovation

None. Godzilla has previously destroyed helicopters in Roland Emmerich's risible 1998 franchise offering.

Positives

This scene takes place at an airport, and there’s a nice shot of the nervy airport crowd watching from behind a huge glass wall as the chopper hits a few airplanes and triggers a series of explosions.

Negatives

The short-lived monster and helicopter encounter has zero tension, and makes even less sense. Expensive, pointless, confusing: it could be a metaphor for the film as a whole.

Favourite quote

Ken Watanabe is clearly in the movie purely for the moment when he stagily turns round, panto-style, and declaims: “They call him…GOR-ZIYYA!”

Interesting fact

Despite the galumphing bad reviews for Godzilla, Gareth Edwards has just been handed the reins for the next Star Wars movie. Given the previous Star Wars trilogy featured some of the wonkiest acting on record (Hayden Christensen’s love scene with Natalie Portman regularly tops Worst Scene of All Time lists), they’ve clearly got the right man for the job.

Review by: Chopper

Still want more? Then check out Jafo discussing Godzilla with a bunch of other cool folk on The Large Association of Movie Blogs podcast on the film.