Friday, December 7, 2012

Airborne (1998)



Last week, I reviewed a Michael Rooker action film (“Back to Back”). Feeling like continuing the trend of unlikely action heroes, I decided to review “Airborne” (not the rollerblading film) this week. And there’s only one reason it ever popped into my radar; Steve Guttenberg! That’s right, this is a direct-to-video action flick starring THE GOOT as the hero and Sean Bean as the villain. What’s not to love?

A lot, apparently. Once you get past the allure of Steve Guttenberg as the lead in an action film, you begin to notice the flimsy script. Julian Grant & Tony Johnston took the script to a generic action film and stripped it of any interest. No quirky dialogue, no character development, no interesting villain, no solid storyline and, worst of all, no exciting action sequences. The only scene that jolted my senses was the finale and that’s only because the image of Steve Guttenberg chasing a plane with a limousine and hopping onto the wing is hysterical!

Despite being the reason of interest, Steve Guttenberg is severely miscast as Bill McNeil, the weapons expert in the Mach 1 black ops team. His partners are Sara Gemmel (Torri Higginson), a hand-to-hand combat expert and Romeo Cortez (Phillip Akin), an explosives expert. At least I think that’s what he was an expert on. Spoiler alert; he dies early on. Somebody has to be fodder for the villain and give our heroes even more of a reason to fight.

That villain being Dave Toombs (Sean Bean), a random person who appears briefly to cause havoc for seemingly no reason. I’m sure an explanation was given, but the film put me in a catatonic state early on. The only times I was revived was when THE GOOT would sport a ridiculous attire. The first time we see him is in this crazy jumpsuit with a helmet that resembles Judge Dredd’s if he were on a five dollar budget. Later, he sports a members only jacket and a pair of sunglasses that scream douche bag. THE GOOT’s fashion sense knows no bounds.

It doesn’t really matter what Toombs’ objective was with the canister full of a deadly virus. I guess I should explain that more. Mach 1 was sent to retrieve a canister containing a deadly virus that, if memory serves correctly, could wipe out an entire state with one shot. It heavily resembles the game Kerplunk. It’s not nearly as fun or thrilling.

Where was I? Oh yeah, Toombs’ objective being fruitless. As it turns out, there’s a mole in the agency. Bob Murdoch (Kim Coates) is head of the investigation and believes it’s McNeil. McNeil thinks it’s Murdoch. I think it’s the 1989 Denver Broncos. Nobody honestly cares. Especially Guttenberg, who sleepwalks through his performance and appears to want to be anywhere else. I’m sure the lousy twist at the end solidified that feeling.

There’s not much more to say about “Airborne”. It’s as streamlined as a film can be and doesn’t deliver on the goods. None of the action, outside of the finale, is staged well and the actors all seem to want to pick up a paycheck and forget this experience ever happened. This may be why Sean Bean only appears briefly, despite being the main villain. The only reason to watch this is for the surreal experience of watching Steve Guttenberg in an action film. Other than that, it’s best you avoid this!

MVT: I guess Steve Guttenberg. He puts on one of the worst performances of his career, but at least rocks some bitching attire. That’s worthwhile enough.

Make or Break: Can I say the entire film up until the finale? I don’t care if I can or not! The entire film up until the finale is the break.

Final Score: 3/10

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

The Unseen (1980)

I don’t really get sick.  Oh, I get a nice head cold once or twice a year, and I have hay fever that would debilitate a lesser man, but it’s rare for me to contract something akin to the flu (and bear in mind, I’m in and out of multiple people’s houses everyday in the course of my job).  I don’t chalk this up to having an iron constitution or anything of the sort.  As a matter of fact, I’d probably just call it dumb luck.  However, when I do get the flu, I get it bad.  I don’t just get a fever, headache, and nausea.  I get a high fever, migraines, and a stomach so twisted it’s nothing short of crippling.  Often, this also leads to fever dreams which, for as bizarre and interesting as they are, I could frankly do without on the whole.  What I’m getting at is even at my worst, even when I’m vomiting so much and so hard that it feels like the only thing I have left to bring up is my own anus (if it were someone else’s, I’d really be worried), I have never coughed during the act.  This is one of those cinema tropes which has always bugged me, that people will spit up a bit and then erupt in a coughing jag that would make a “lunger” green with envy.  I get that it’s called “acting,” but to my mind, this is the kind of thing that’s simply not true to life.  Even in Horror movies.

Television reporter Jennifer Fast (Barbara Bach) walks out (ironically enough) on beau Tony (Doug Barr, who you may recall as Howie Munson on TV’s The Fall Guy), who has recently undergone knee surgery.  Traveling with sister Karen (Karen Lamm) and assistant Vicki (Lois Young) to the hamlet of Solvang (an anagram for Vanglos, in case you were wondering), the three find the local hotel completely booked up.  Coming upon the Union Hotel and its not-at-all-creepy proprietor Ernest (Sydney Lassick) they ask for a room, but are informed that it’s just a museum.  However, he can let them stay at his house, where fragile wife Virginia (Lelia Goldoni) takes care of things.  But the horrors to come are still (wait for it) unseen.

If my synopsis for Danny Steinmann’s (director of the Linda Blair vehicle Savage Streets, here credited as Peter Foleg) The Unseen seems a bit slight and not all that scary, that’s because the film is a bit slight and not all that scary.  It has all the elements for a Horror film, and it puts them mostly in the right order.  Nonetheless, the filmmakers don’t seem to want to focus on the people ostensibly set up as the heroines of the piece.  If anything, this is more the story of the twisted Keller family, and had they played up the skeezy, gothic elements associated with them, this could very well have been a decent little Psychodrama.  Instead, they tried to force a standard Slasher structure onto the film, and I feel that it suffers greatly as a result.  It also doesn’t help that the acting seesaws between wooden and manic (with Lassick earning the coveted BEM Award for overdoing it this time out).  Sure, the viewers’ fingernails will dig rivulets into their arm rests, but it’s strictly a reaction to the thespian skills on display and the film’s lumbering plot, not due to any tension constructed by Steinmann and company.

It’s impossible to discuss this film in any detail without some form of SPOILERS, although it could also be argued that this is an unspoilable film, since one of the big twists (out of two) is only a twist in its appearance and has probably been discussed more than Rosebud (okay, not really).  Ready?  Here we go.  So, former Flounder Stephen Furst plays Junior Keller (aka the titular Unseen), the large mongoloid offspring of Ernest and Virginia who have kept him locked in the basement, assumedly since he could walk (and not in the attic where this sort of familial black eye is normally secreted away).  He is the murderer of two of the female characters, but it is Ernest who is the true villain of this flick, and we get that simply upon first sight.  Why else would you cast Lassick, unless you were looking for an unctuous yet somewhat effete character that is instantly untrustworthy and unlikable?  Regardless, it is Ernest’s relationship with not only Junior but also Virginia which underpins the major themes in the movie.  That the filmmakers tried to have these same themes mirrored by Jennifer and her relationship with Tony is admirable but also ineffective (I can only assume they couldn’t afford Bach’s salary to keep her onscreen longer).

The first of the major themes is one of children and parents, specifically mothers.  Virginia is a mother in a very traditional sense.  She stays at home and takes care of the house and cooks and cleans.  She is also abused mentally and physically.  Jennifer, by contrast, is an independent woman and doesn’t want a child at this point in her career.  She has repressed her mothering instinct (though it can just as easily be argued that she has none as portrayed in Bach’s icy performance), and this is conveyed in the first scenes of the film.  Jennifer walks out on Tony as he struggles to lift weights with his repaired knees (and Steinmann’s insistence on showing a closeup of his scar drives home the point that Tony is an incomplete man and in need of someone who can care for him, though not to the point an infant would).  Naturally then, when Jennifer is confronted with Junior, she must essentially face “the return of the repressed.”  What she has attempted to kill in her own life now threatens that life in a much larger (and terminal) fashion.  What’s interesting (or at least befuddling) is that we are given no indication as to how any of this will affect her life in the future.  We see the actions that she takes, but it is difficult to believe that her ordeals will strengthen her maternal impulses and change her mind about having a child of her own.  In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she had her tubes tied after the film fades out.  Again, the film’s focus is rooted in the Kellers (not the outsiders), and it is how Virginia and Ernest act which depicts any character growth.

The second theme I’d like to touch on deals with forgetting and burying the past (which can also be read as guilt).  Here, we should be paying attention to Jennifer and Tony in this regard, but pretty much everything which the filmmakers have to say about the two is put out in the first scene and then all but hung out to dry.  No, it is the Kellers who encompass this theme almost in its entirety.  Virginia has been scarred by the past actions which have formed her present situation.  Junior is a living embodiment of the malignant past which birthed him (though he acts merely within his severe limitations and without malice).  Ernest, who is the catalyst for everything bad in the Kellers’ lives, is himself a victim of the past.  Yet in the past, when Ernest acted out to escape from the cycle of abuse which defined his young life, he only made things worse and progressed (some would argue regressed) from there, thus further perpetuating the cycle.  He owns a hotel which was turned into a museum, a place and livelihood literally trapped in the past.  To be fair, there is a certain richness in this material.  The filmmakers just didn’t dig into it past a surface level, and consequently The Unseen is a film which should resonate but ultimately doesn’t.

MVT:  Furst’s Junior is the standout of the film.  For the first few minutes he’s onscreen, he is moderately impressive and not a little creepy.  Unfortunately, when he starts doing things which are a bit on the ridiculous side (in Furst’s defense, a preoperational child would very likely behave in the same fashion), any sense of unease quickly turns to comedy.  It’s a shame, really.

Make Or Break:  The Break is the scene where Ernest gets drunk and has a conversation with a family member.  Not only is it leaden with hamfisted exposition, but it also gives us some truly overwrought acting which just crushes any expectations you might have for the film’s remainder.

Score:  5/10

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Monday, December 3, 2012

Episode #212: They Shoot Horses...Don't They?

Welcome to a special cross promotion with the Feminine Critique podcast!!!

This week we joined forces to bring you coverage on two different feeds. On this feed you get coverage of They Shoot Horses...Don't They? (1969) directed by Sydney Pollack and starring Jane Fonda, Michael Sarrazin and Gig Young. 


On the Feminine Critique feed you get coverage of the second part. or first part depending on who you listen to first, of our coverage of Dark of the Sun (1968) directed by Jack Cardiff and starring Rod Taylor and Jim Brown.


We hope you enjoy this little venture and get out and support great podcasts like The Feminine Critique!!!


Emails to midnitecinema@gmail.com

Voicemails to 206-666-5207

Adios!!!




Friday, November 30, 2012

Back to Back (1996)



All I heard of “Back to Back” was that it was a made-for-TV (HBO, I believe) action flick starring Michael Rooker. I was immediately sold! Then I read that Ryo Ishibashi would play his partner (so to speak), his daughter to be played by the gorgeous Danielle Harris, John Laughlin would be his superior, Bobcat Goldthwait would play a minor villain and both Tim Thomerson and Fred Willard would have cameos. If that’s not enough to convince you to watch this film, I don’t know what will.

If you need further persuasion, it’s a pretty damn good action flick! The first twenty minutes alone is a heart pumping adrenaline rush! You’ve got Bobcat Goldthwait playing a bank robber dubbed Psycho whose men are all taken out by Bob Malone (Michael Rooker). He doesn’t unload bullets into them because they robbed the bank. He does so because they parked him into the street and, after already having a disastrous day, snapped and beat the holy hell out of the getaway driver (by locking his head into the back window, no less)!

We learn that he’s a recently divorced cop who’s had his badge taken away due to severe anger issues. He started his morning off with a brief shouting match with his daughter, Chelsea (Danielle Harris), then had his house repossessed by the bank (in a cameo by Fred Willard). When he went to take out twenty dollars from the ATM, he was denied and his card was confiscated. Enter Psycho and his goons and you’ve got a pissed off Malone going postal on some baddies.

While he disposes of all of the goons, Psycho slips away. Before he can chase after him, his former boss, Dussecq (John Laughlin), intervenes and reluctantly arrests him. Meanwhile, Psycho is driving downtown with the police hot on his trails. Spouting out one liners (my favorite being how the town isn’t safe anymore) and spraying bullets out of his back windshield, he eventually makes his way into a restaurant that just so happens to be owned by a local mobster.

That’s the least of his worries. Koji (Ryo Ishibashi) and Hideo (Kô Takasugi) are waiting there to finish off the mobster and effectively conclude their mission. Psycho puts a dent in their plans, so they put a dent in his face. Another shootout occurs and Hideo gets shot in the process. Koji disposes of Goldthwait in an explosive manner, but is taken in by Dussecq for questioning. Hideo makes his getaway and wanders around town aimlessly bleeding from the gut and prophesizing that Elvis Presley is still alive (it works, trust me). There’s a hysterical spot where he knocks out an annoying homeless man posing as a cripple that may possibly be the highlight of the film!

Koji doesn’t have time to put up with Dussecq, so he breaks his nose and escapes the interrogation room by shooting out the one-sided mirror and crashing through it. He takes Bob and Chelsea hostage as they are conveniently leaving the premises at the same time. A brief run-in with Chelsea earlier gave Koji the slip in. It’s clear from this point that he doesn’t want to harm them, but will if necessary.

He takes them back to their house and stakes out. The film slows down a bit here as Robert Nygard develops the characters. He mainly just has Bob and Chelsea shouting at one another which grows wearisome. The heart to heart she has with Koji works decently, but it feels a bit too forced (from the script perspective, not the acting). We also learn of a rat in the police force (I won’t spoil who, but it’s pretty easy to uncover) and get a brief cameo from Tim Thomerson. Oh, and Vincent Schiavelli appears briefly as the mob boss’ slimy assistant. Good times!

It does show that this is a made-for-television film in the editing department. The scene transitions appear straight from an early edition of Windows Movie Maker and some of the camera cuts are jarring. The reason I believe this aired on HBO is that the film’s pacing is relatively good. Most TV movies have to abide by commercial breaks, forcing the film to have a more episodic nature. That’s not the case here which helps it flow nicer.

Don’t let the made-for-TV tag scare you, though. The action is fierce and rampant! There are multiple shootouts, car chases, destruction of property and even some blood (mainly from a nasty torture method that involves nails). The finale takes place in a restaurant under renovations and Nygard gets good use out of the setting. He also uses the cast well to his advantage!

Let me repeat myself from the first paragraph. “Back to Back” stars Michael Rooker, Ryo Ishibashi, Danielle Harris, Bobcat Goldthwait, John Laughlin, Tim Thomerson, Vincent Schiavelli and Fred Willard. That right there is a genre fans wet dream! It’s easy to forgive some of the film’s shortcomings thanks to the dream cast and solid action. It’s possible some of my issues were the side effect of premature ejaculation. This is an action film with Michael Rooker as the lead, after all. That’s too much awesome for me to contain myself!

MVT: I’m going to give it to Rooker, as I love the man and he’s in fine form here. Ryo Ishibashi gives him a run for his money. He holds his own in both the action department and in commanding the screen.

Make or Break: The opening action sequence. It has Bobcat Goldthwait looking like a sewage worker mowing down cops and spouting one-liners (and not acting like Zed from the “Police Academy” movies). What’s not to love?

Final Score: 7.5/10

Thursday, November 29, 2012

Episode #211: Lady Snowblood Double Duece

Welcome to another episode sponsored by diabolikdvd.com and part of our Double Deuce coverage!!!

This week it was Sammy's turn to program the show and the Lady Snowblood films were chosen to be dissected by the Gents!!! We cover Lady Snowblood (1973) and Lady Snowblood: Love Song of Vengeance (1974) both directed by Toshiya Fujita and starring the enigmatic Meiko Kaji.

Direct download: Lady_Snowblood_12.mp3

Emails to midnitecinema@gmail.com

Voicemails to 206-666-5207

Adios!!!


Wednesday, November 28, 2012

The Sheriff And The Satellite Kid (1979)



I don’t think anyone actually likes being alone.  Oh, sure, after a time, you can get used to the solitude and even prefer it.  But as human beings, we are social animals, and it is our natural inclination to engage in communal activities with one another, even without physical contact (try to explain Facebook otherwise).  And so it is that we have the concept of the comedic duo.  The juxtaposition of disparate personalities between the straight man and the funny man creates humor in much the same way that a similar juxtaposition can create conflict and drama.  Yet, if one walks away from a Laurel and Hardy movie without a smile on their face, the double act has failed (it could more believably be argued that the viewer has no sense of humor in this case, but you see what I mean).  The duo is also different from a comedy troupe, because the personalities are more defined, the purpose more  focused.  You may not be able to name and describe the individual style of every cast member on Saturday Night Live, but you can easily recognize and delineate between Bud Abbott and Lou Costello or Jerry Lewis and Dean Martin.  The comedic duo has to be polar opposites in order to complement each other in a way normal relationships simply don’t always work.  Even then, though, there are no guarantees.

A public furor has gripped Newnan, Georgia after a UFO was spotted landing over the small town.  As the locals panic and blame everything that goes haywire on aliens, the gruff-but-kindly Sheriff Hall (Bud Spencer) struggles to keep crime down as well as impart some sanity to his constituents.  When Mrs. Parkins reports that her son is missing, Hall finds the lad at the local amusement park.  Playing with the Parkins boy is another child (Cary Guffey) who gives his name as H7-25 and insists that he is from another planet.  Hoping to get the truth from the boy and return him to his parents, Hall takes H7-25 under his wing, but Captain Briggs (Raimund Harmstorf) of the Coast Guard (?!) wants to capture the alien boy in order to get a hold of the photonic laser which allows the kid to perform all sorts of wild feats.

Michele Lupo’s The Sheriff And The Satellite Kid (aka Uno Sceriffo Extraterrestre – Poco Extra E Molto Terrestre) is not The Champ.  Neither is it The Kid or even Cop And A Half.  Ostensibly though, this film is about father and sons.  It has no real option to not be (just look at the title).  While Hall is an imposing presence and just a little grumpy, he also has a big heart which hurts the film twofold.  First, it gives us no arc for Hall to come to love the kid, starting as he does from place of benevolence and quasi-amiability.  Second, it deprives us of any true sense of conflict for the portions of the picture which don’t involve either the military or Brennan (Joe Bugner), the town fuckup.  By that same token, H7-25 states that he is in essence a neglected child.  He says that his father, H7-24, gets angry when the boy is scared.  His world has no such thing as music.  He is supposed to be a child searching for a positive father figure.  Unfortunately, we never get the feeling that the boy is all that troubled by his home life and certainly not to the point that he must bond strongly to Hall, and Hall has no strong motivation to feel protective of H7-25.  

In fact, the film on the whole is little more than small, brief moments between “humorous” (and yes, that word needs to be in quotes) slugfests.  It could be argued that this film is aimed at the family market, but it would be much more accurate to state that it is in fact aimed at children almost exclusively.  There is nothing wrong with that, of course, but it also means that the filmmakers felt the need to play down to their assumedly dumb audience.  The humor is as broad as broad can be.  We get a porcine family who dress identically and are not only always eating but also are portrayed as just flat-out stupid.  Deputy Allen (Luigi Bonos) feels the undesirable desire to constantly rhyme his lines (and I suspect the English dubbing doesn’t do it any favors, in this regard) and he does all sorts of gymnastics despite his being in his late sixties.  Animals talk in generic, predictable ways (a horse sounds like Mr. Ed, a German shepherd has a Teutonic accent).  But worst of all is the rebarbative practice of playing and rewinding the film at various times to either convey the idea that the characters are dancing against their will or just to have them re-experience painful moments repeatedly.  I suppose there are those (child and adult alike) who would find this funny (hell, I still like fart jokes, usually), but its stultifying overuse makes the film a slog.

Children in film can often be either twee or annoying or both (witness Giovanni Frezza in The House By The Cemetery), and it must be said that Guffey himself does not wear out his welcome entirely in this regard.  However as a character, H7-25 is perplexing.  Remember the Great Gazoo on The Flintstones?  That’s this kid.  He unwaveringly goes around causing mischief for mischief’s sake and in ways which could be construed as (at least marginally) criminal.  He lets Brennan out of jail and out of his cuffs at various points (it’s possible he sees the good inside the curmudgeon before Hall does, but there’s no indication of this).  He squirts an Army General in the face with water.  He badmouths Hall to a horse right in front of the guy.  By all indications, H7-25 knows exactly what he’s doing.  He’s being a jerk of the highest order, and his father’s no picnic either, as he takes over Hall’s car and rams it through the town, smashing into all of the unconvincingly placed obstacles which litter the roads.  One almost gets the feeling that the Satellite Kid’s true aim is to pave the way for a hostile alien invasion (but that wouldn’t come until the sequel, Why Did You Pick On Me?, and the kid’s not directly involved there, anyway), stripping we human beings of our will to live and scouring our resolve to its very core.  I hope not.  They would be extremely nettlesome.

MVT:  For as much as I have ragged on this flick, the relationship between the Sheriff and the kid is really the best of it.  Bud Spencer is one of those guys who I believe is impossible to not find charming.  That he’s only allowed to have basically two modes (exasperated resignation and bemused geniality) in the film is not his fault, but he does them both very well.

Make Or Break:  The Break is the denouement between Hall and H7-25.  There is simply no heart to any of these proceedings (despite the entire film’s purpose of appealing to the audience’s).  We make no strong connection to either character, and therefore we could care less if these two ever see each other again.  The film practically states outright that we should have our hearts warmed by this point in the runtime, but sadly, it all simply feels like going through the motions.  So the final shot, which should be uplifting (or at the absolute minimum leave us grinning), just makes you want to turn it off and watch The Toy instead.

Score:  5/10  

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Wednesday, November 21, 2012

I Love Maria (1988)

I want you to go on the interwebs and look up “dogs playing poker.”  Done?  Good.  In my opinion, no image this side of either the various Trucking For Jesus or Elvis Presley on velvet paintings have so encapsulated the lowbrow aesthetic in such a swift shorthand.  According to Wikipedia, the dog paintings were commissioned in 1903 by the Brown & Bigelow publishing company in order to sell cigars (most likely to minors, but still…).  Painted by C.M. Coolidge, there were sixteen paintings in the series, but only nine had the canines playing cards.  Some of the other activities included dancing (which is actually sort of creepy when you see it), smoking and drinking, or working on the “family” car.  

For such a bizarre image, the appeal is both baffling and ridiculously simple.  As Homer Simpson once said, “They’re dogs!  And they’re playing poker!”  I think that’s the trick of it.  We know there’s absolutely nothing natural about these actions, yet we cannot help but be charmed by it.  Is it the laconic looks the dogs give each other, trying to remain impassive?  Is it that one of the dogs is usually cheating under the table?  Is it that everything else in the paintings is entirely normal, so when these odd elements are added, the incongruity attracts us, like a perfectly-placed mole (sorry, beauty mark) on a woman’s cheek?  Most likely, it’s all of these things and more, like the disparate ingredients that make a great casserole.  The amalgam shouldn’t work, but damn it all if it doesn’t.  And that’s what David Chung and Tsui Hark’s I Love Maria (aka Roboforce aka Tit Gaap Mou Dik Maa Lei Aa) is like.  

The Hero Gang is terrorizing the city (Hong Kong, I assume) with their giant robot, Pioneer 1.  Cub reporter TQ Zhuang (Tony Leung Chiu Wai) is hot on the story, but he is put off and utterly disregarded by not only the police but also his boss at The City Times.  Meanwhile, Saviour (Ben Lam), leader of the Hero Gang, has decided to create another robot fashioned in the image of girlfriend (or possibly sister, the subtitles are confusing on this matter) and second-in-command, Maria (Sally Yeh).  Needless to say, Maria is not thrilled, but what can you do?  Police scientist Curly (John Sham) is being used and abused by his higher-ups and makes the mistake of befriending former gangster and current souse, Whisky (Tsui Hark).  But when the gang gets wind that one of theirs (never mind that he is no longer a gang member) is friendly with a cop, they don’t take very kindly to it, and insanity ensues.

There’s simply no way to talk about this movie without referring at some point to Fritz Lang’s Metropolis, so let’s dispense with this here and now.  The Maria-Robot in that film drove people to heights of lust and violence and caused all manner of chaos.  She enflamed the emotions and passions of men through her programmed (but never robotic) dancing and the outward appearance (and visibility in terms of amount) of her feminine flesh.  Pioneer 2 (the Maria-Robot of this film) is never anything other than a robot.  There is no subterfuge whatsoever as to what she is or what she does.  And like her human counterpart, Pioneer 2 kicks ten kinds of ass.  It’s this idea of anthropomorphized sexualized technology that the film sets its story on.  Whisky has deep feelings for Maria, so of course, he wants to be near the next best thing.  Curly doesn’t know Maria, but he loves the robot.  However, this sexuality is never explicit.  There is never any nudity or sexual activity of any kind, but the implication is present.  While it would never work cinematically for either man to consummate their love for Maria with the automaton itself, since Pioneer 2 is not anthropomorphized enough in its behavior for us to accept such an act (unless maybe this were a Category III film), the robot does provide the linkage for the brotherly love that develops between Curly and Whisky.  

Curly programs Pioneer 2 to only respond to the passphrase, “I love Curly,” thus ensuring that the tech-minded nebbish will have love for him expressed if not necessarily felt (at least at first).  Also of note, the robot causes convulsive shocks (read: orgasms) which course through one, the other, or both male characters at various points.  But this is only when the men are in physical contact with Pioneer 2 and each other simultaneously.  It is as if the sexual congress simulated by these shocks brings out the bisexual nature of Curly and Whisky in the only way acceptable to both men (i.e. through a woman).  This odd quasi-sexual breakthrough strengthens the nucleus of the men’s connection with each other as well as Pioneer 2’s connection to both of them.

Our two main characters are complementary to each other.  They are, in effect, one gestalt character.  In most outward respects, they are opposites.  One works within the law, one without.  One is a drunk, the other is sober.  One is a tough guy, the other is a wimp.  One is brains, the other is brawn.  But Curly and Whisky have just enough in common to find orbit around one another.  Apart from each other, they are incomplete and ineffectual.  Neither is taken seriously by those who have power over them.  Both are capable at their jobs but are never given the opportunity to shine.  Nonetheless, together (through the facilitation of the robot) the two form a more complete personality.  They become a yin and yang to each other.  And this is mirrored in the character of Pioneer 2.

Where Curly and Whisky need each other to be whole, Pioneer 2 is both in one.  Like Robocop or Johnny Five or David or Pinocchio, Pioneer 2 is the synthesis between heart and hand.  She only knows what she is programmed for, but it is her experiences among humans (and importantly, “good” humans) which forms the core upon which her artificial intelligence (i.e. emotion) develops.  Naturally, this is displayed at a decisive moment when she makes a conscious decision towards action with regards to the humans in her “life.”  These themes and concepts in I Love Maria are not especially new or revelatory, but they are carried off with such energy and style that the film becomes a unique and enjoyable experience.   

MVT:  It must be mentioned that the effects work and the action in the film are extraordinarily well-shot and edited, especially those that have to do with the Pioneer 1 robot.  Its actions are clear, easy to follow, and totally understandable in intent.  For a film that probably didn’t have half the budget of Robocop’s catering, this one certainly has a lot more of what people would like to see (read: ED-209 scenes), and somewhat more kinetically than the Verhoeven picture (though that in no way reflects on the greatness of the American film).    

Make Or Break:  The Make is the first scene involving Pioneer 1 robbing a bank.  It proves that the film can pull off big special effects convincingly, introduces the viewer to the film’s light yet serious tone, and satisfies completely as an action scene.  And that’s before our lead characters are even introduced.

Score:  6.75/10

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