Here is the review of ALIEN RESURRECTION, which also happened to be the Hollywood Premiere. Sorry for the lack of film reviews recently, I've been seeing them, but have been soooo busy I haven't been able to write about them. As usual I'll describe my day, to put my mental state during the screening in place for you.
I woke up excited as could be, I was in the OMNI hotel in downtown Los Angeles and this day was going to be a GOOD day. First on the bill was an interview with E! Entertainment Television, and I had to wake up at 7:30am to do it. Man was I tired. I had been up all night and didn't get much sleep at all.
The E! interview went well, and even though I was running late, my trusty driver (AURIC GOLDFINGER, I know, Oddjob shoulda been driving, but since that plane incident Auric just hasn't had the cash to pay for a electro-shock treated chaffeur) was awaiting me. We got into his car which was playing THE WITCHES OF EASTWICK cd, to my delight. And I was pleased as could be. We were headed to Muscle Beach to pick up Joe Hallenbeck who lives in a grass hut and travels around town via a network of pnuematic tubes. Joe was sunning his barrel/skinny/well-tanned/bleached- white/caucasian/black/furred/shaved/breasted/flat-chested chest and now looked like one of those red lobster dudes.
As he got into the car/chariot/cool-mobile we headed off for Forrest J Ackerman's house. WHICH YOU CAN READ ABOUT ON THE "COOL NEWS" AREA OF THE SITE!!! Suffice to say, A-M-A-Z-I-N-G!!!! It leaves ya a bit stunned.
Afterwards we traveled around to different areas of LA, specifically to Hallenbeck's favorite place... THE MALL. He walked around showing me all the different places he has wanted to kill people, like Victoria's Secret, and the Carousel (which is where the Christmas Tree used to be) and Suncoast Video. Wow, from the Ackermansion to crass commercialization in under 20 minutes. I was stunned. Only in L.A. (well actually from beautiful downtown Burbank) Then Hallenbeck wanted to buy food, Goldfinger lit up, my dad lit up, and then Joe asked me where I wanted to eat. I thought.... what had I seen that looked good? My mind left the mall to the street that the T-REX in Lost World tore people up, and I saw in my future a FATBURGER!!!!!!! Goldfinger got depressed, Dad got impressed. Yeah, rotting stinking cool junk food!!!!!!!!! Yeeeeee Haaaaaa!!!!! I had heard my whole life of a place that had food that was bad for me. It's name was Fatburger, and I wanted a double helping.
I went up to the counter like a man possessed, they asked me what I wanted, and I looked the order goddess right square in the eye and I said, "I want the BIG FAT DEAL, double the burger with chili and cheese, and I want the FAT FRIES too!!!!" She looked at me like I was a fatboy gone insane, and that's when my dad stepped in. "I want the BIG FAT DEAL, double the burger with cheese and a fried egg to spare, and Yes, I'll take the FAT FRIES too!" WOW, leave it to ol Dad to top me in the cholesteral department!!! He had surely ordered the Burger of Death. EGG!!! Wow. Even Joe was stunned, and he ordered just a regular Fat burger and SKINNY fries, what sort of wimp was this? This wussy boy didn't even order the FAT FRIES. Shameful, pathetic, even Goldfinger got the FAT FRIES.
The food arrived and indeed the burger was the size of my head (adjusted for inflation) and I wanted it all. Every last greasy morsel. The paper was turning transparent, a great sign of heart attack food, and I was ready to gulp and swallow. Yum yum, this was greasy good grub. We left the place, our hands dripping in saturated fats and our hearts choke choke chugging along at a skipped beat pace.
We decided to drive by the Dragnet building, which took us through Downtown Chinatown. An interesting display of humanity. A street preacher on a corner, bible clutched in one hand decrying the end of the world (left over marketing scheme of Emmerich and Devlin no doubt) and a gathering of prostitutes signalling cars, Joe was tempted. I was out of film. We were searching for a copy shop, there was a document of the utmost importance to have copied. This document needed to be duplicated for the safety of the geek nation. What it was, I can not say, but know only it is of the most vital importance to the coolness of all. Goldfinger would not stop at any copy shops in Chinatown. Apparently in one of his shady dealings Mr Goldfinger had angered the Los Angeles branch of Triad, and feared for his very life in this area.
At the OMNI we had copying done gratis at the front desk. Then we (Dad & I) took our leave of the Mighty Joe and Goldfinger. All seemed well. We go to our room, our intestinal fortitude corrupted by the previous nights junket at the Sizzler by the Sony lot, and the lard infested patties of hefer flesh we had just consumed. A cleaning lady had turned our room upside down, and was busy with the bathroom. Dad and I stood in the hallway clenching our butt cheeks like we were some sort of Chippendale. When she left the bathroom, there was a modern day death race 2000 for the white glass goddess. Upper cuts, jabs, roundhouses, like out takes from the Quiet Man or North To Alaska, Dad and I had at it. Finally after I landed a triple combination to a door jam, he let me in. Shrapnel hell ensued. The phone rings in the middle of the most disgusting sound you have ever heard. It's my contact who is getting me the tickets, the sounds of exploding intestines continue, I comment that I'm watching Blazing Saddles. The tickets were secured. Yeeeeeeeee Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!! Winona here I come!!!!
The screening was at that Westwood Village in Westwood (duh!) and having no ride to get there I needed to fanagle transportation. There was this cool as hell dude, that had been trying to convince me to go with him to a place in Beverly Hills off of Wilshire called Gallery Morpheus (I believe) and he insisted that Dad and I go. Knowing that he would be in the conference area, I decided to send Dad to scout for him. Meanwhile I could continue to make calls and do "Harry" stuff on the phone. Contacting buddies in publishing, magazines, studios. Making deals, setting up contacts, and basically setting out to rule the world. (yeah right fat boy)
As the superhero known as the Griffin arrived in my room with Dad, I began to prepare for the premiere. Putting on shoes, gargling the rainwater my cup had collected on the windowsill, should be healthy, no? I got my black leather overcoat, and I was looking like a fat guy that wished he looked cool enough to get a date with any babe that would be at the premiere that night. I had my waddle down to a cool fine art, shifting side to side like an Ollie Johnston Tweedle Dee.
We got inside the Griffin-mobile which resembles some of those cars from the glorius days of Al Capone. We traverse the dangerous Los Angeles freeway system, till we finally arrive in the Beverly Hills area of umm... ummm... Beverly Hills and we get to the Gallery Morpheus. As we walk into this place I am flabbergasted by exquisite paintings by Wayne Barlowe, this caricature artist that is quite simply brilliant (they did an article on him in USA TODAY last Friday), and yes amongst all the artist was H.R. GIGER AGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHH!!!!! Oh sweet jesus, real live paintings by H.R. Giger. WOW. Bronzes by him, furniture by him, mural sized prints by him. Astounding work. Conceptual art for THE TOURIST, one of the great unproduced projects in Hollywood. Then finally a bronze ALIEN head. I marveled at the beauty of it. The stunning elegance and mysterious omniscience it gave off. The lack of eyes, this was truly alien.
After gawking for an hour or so at all of the truly tremendous work in this, the best cool gallery I have ever been in, and I do go to art gallerys on a fairly regular basis, I had the pleasure of talking at length to the Gallery owner. Turns out we have people in common, and we get to talking about film, from El Spectro Rojo (1896 I believe) to Kubrick's AI (yeah right) Then we look at our watches, and realize it is quickly becoming time to goto the Premiere.
As the Griffin drops us off in Westwood about a block or two away from the theater, we bless him a thousand times for taking us to the Gallery Morpheus. It was truly stunning, and a highlight of the trip. Dad and I begin walking the street. These people, young college student types (allegedly from UCLA which is just a couple of blocks away) keep saying "Hi Harry", very creepy and nonchalant. Like it was just regular to bump into me. I mean, this feels normal in Austin, but to just be walking down a street in a strange town, and having cool attractive college students casually comment "Hi Harry" is just a bit sobering. Then as I pass this one movie line (there are theaters EVERYWHERE here) I pass this guy who looks just like SILENT BOB. And he gives me this double thumbs up and says, "Good work Harry" who was this guy?
Dad and I approach the mob which has encircled the theater and we fight our way to were our tickets are awaiting us. Cool, they were there. Just like they were suppose to be. And we then find out that it'll be about 25 minutes till they allow people to go in. I look around and see this place called STAN'S DONUTS. I have been told by many UCLA and USC geeks that this is quite simply the greatest donut house in the world. So I grab Dad, and off we head to STAN'S DONUTS which happened to have a neon hot dog in it's window. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm... When I get inside there are two counters, one for hot dogs and one for donuts. They don't look particularly great beyond all belief, but my geeks won't lead me astray. So I attempt to find something to fill my pallette... The double chocolate chocolate chip fudge muffin and banana spice muffin fit the bill, and I also ask how late they plan to stay open, MIDNIGHT. Cooool, that meant I could pick up donuts to take back to the hotel after the film. Dad got the honey pecan bran muffin, and was making satisfied sex sounds as he chewed the morsel down.
We cross the street and begin to cross onto the red carpet. Once again, seemingly thousands of flashbulbs and cameras and microphones. I walk quickly by, but first I see a stunning model with some European Exotic name, she was short blonde and fine. So I try my tweedle dee walk, and she ignores me. My heart is crushed.
As we enter the screening room dad is instantly underwhelmed by the look, "You are right, the Paramount is much better!" That's our home town premiere theater (which doesn't even begin to compare with the sound this theater offers. I decide to go get drinks and popcorn because it is complimentary. Dad and I are semi holding two spots for friends that I never saw, but later learned were there.
Once again famous people are everywhere. Danny Elfman and his agent say, "Hi" as they are walking down the aisle, Brad (CHUCKIE!!!!) Dourf (I am convinced I misspelled that). Then I begin overhearing from behind me, talk about a movie with a big green monster that's coming out next summer. I can't really make out what is being said, till this person notices me and says, "Excuse me, you're Harry Knowles aren't you?" Sheesh, it's getting to the point where I can't anonymously eavesdrop. Turns out he's working on Godzilla, and we talk a bit about how filming is going (well) and about the design of the big guy (think facillatating speed and movement), and other subjects. Turns out he's been reading the site, in particular in regards the Prequel news. Claims he is learning new film techniques via the page. SHOCK GASP CHOKE. No way!!!
Then the lights begin to go down and I see 20th Century Fox dude TOM ROTHMAN (president of worldwide production) come up to a mike and begin a "thank you" speech to the different talent, and introduce Jeunet to the mike. Jeunet gives a very cool quick "thank you" speech and is eager to let his movie speak.
The lights dim, and the film starts....
THE FILM REVIEW BEGINS HERE...............
This is what I call an "almost" movie. I liked alot of it. I loved the characters. Ron Perlman once again shows why he is among the elite in cool actors that don't get any respect, as does Michael Wincott. Dominique Pinon shows why he is cool, and yes even Sigourney and Winona. I loved the "ladder" scene and the torture scene that Brad Dourff is in. This flick tries hard to work, but like the Batman films they keep getting further from the heart of the material. Instead of overdone gothic statues (of BATMAN) here they have overdone the "goo" and "gunk" and "slobber".
They have disposed of the mystery of the Aliens. There are tremendous plotholes which you'll see discussed in Newsgroups and Forums for a long time. But all of these problems were forgivable... untill.... the last 25 minutes, which I felt was the most excruciating agonizing hell I've been put through. The Phelgm monster (aka The Newborn) is introduced in one of the most embarassing scenes shot on film. It's the sort of scene where you find that the texture of your shoelaces is awfully interesting. You want to like the film, I highly recommend on leaving the theater as soon as you see Ripley fall into the floor.
Is the creature THAT BAD? YES, YES YES YES YES YES. That creature is (excuse my french, technically I think it's german) fucking awful, a total rotting piece of shit. Why am I cussing? Because there are simply no other words... well perhaps stupid doo doo head would apply to the designer. It is horrible. BAD, terrible, awful. Nasty, bad, puke. How this ever got off the page and on to the screen is beyond me. I don't understand. It's hidieous. They make the queen embarrasingly awful and silly. And one unfortunate actor is given the job of being incredibly silly. Joe Hallenbeck was right.
Where does it fall in the Alien chart? Well personally I would place it behind the second one and ahead of the third one. Why? Because I like these characters more, and will most likely be watching it on video, and shutting it off at the Ripley falling into the floor scene. I'll live longer that way.
One of the problems lie in their deviation from the script (which won't bother most of you, because you haven't read the script). It's like they always took the path less cool. For example there was a chance to do the Cameron dream of having a kickass smaller person whup up on the bigger things, with Winona, but instead they were biased by her petite frame. Tis a shame, could of had a wonderful visually dynamic character, but alas, twas not to be. Lastly, that creature was HORRIBLE. I mean I really don't have a basis for comparison. I swear at one point that pathetic thing almost says, "MOMMY", but not quite.
This is a two star kinda flick, good enough to make you care about it, but unfortunately, that's what gave me such a negative reaction
After the film was over, I was mortified, how would I respond if someone asked me. Would I just play politics and say, "great, I loved it, Best one yet." or would I speak my mind? I was kinda in a daze, and I remember turning around to look to see where Dad was, when I bumped into Winona Ryder, ACK!!!! CHOKE!!! GASP!!!!! Coooool. She is everybit as beautiful in person as you have seen in film. And I was a bit shocked back to reality. Instead of staying behind her and gawking, I decided to move around her to get out before the inevitable crush of schmoozers blocked everyone's way. As I rounded the corner, BAM there was Robert Newman, super-agent. This guy reps Robert Rodriguez, Jeunet and Danny Boyle. Wow, that's a pretty cool group of filmmakers, and that's just the ones I know of.
He asks me what I thought, the dreaded question, then Tom Rothman says with glee as he glides his way through the crowd, "I've got to at least meet Harry!" Now I'm faced with voicing my opinion about the film not only to the agent of the director, but to the guy pretty much in charge of film production at Fox, the company that produced it. Gulp, here was that test of fortitude.
"Well it was ok," twitch,"I loved that cast,"twitch, "I had alotta fu.. I didn't like that creature at the end, it just didn't work, it was nasty." Suddenly I realized I had just told them the climax sucked, which is exactly how I felt. I DID IT, I honestly told them I didn't like that ending. WOW. That wasn't so hard. Well, it's best not to hang around, the guys with machetes were surely on their way.
As I continue to escape into fresh air I bump into Marilyn Manson and The Judds. SURREAL!!!! Tia Carrere, my dad claims he saw Cameron Diaz, Claire Danes is seen walking amongst us... My waddle walk and black leather overcoat seem to be doing no good whatsoever. Sigh.
I begin talking with different people about film, A.R. and other films. It went quite well. Though a terribly embarrassing bit occurred where I showed exactly how big of a dick I was.
I was talking to this fella who helped me get tickets for the premiere and this fella came up to say, "Hi, I'm _____ Smith's agent and ..." he went on to start throwing out all these sentences that flew by. I was trying to figure out who the hell's agent he was, when it dawned on me. MEL SMITH director of THE TALL GUY and BEAN. While I liked THE TALL GUY and haven't seen BEAN, I couldn't figure why Mel Smith's agent would want to talk to me. SO I just did the fako conversation. You know, "uh huh.... yeah.... loved it.... well really it's the work.... suuuuure.... anytimmme....etc" Later I found out this was really KEVIN SMITH'S agent, who I would of loved to have talked to. But Nooooooooooo, I had to be Mr Non-Listening boy. What a schmuck I was.
Meanwhile famous people kept coming out, like Michael Wincott and Ron Perlman and
the rest. I didn't approach any of them. They just seemed tooo cool. Then Bill Mechanic,
the head cheese at FOX came up to me with Tom Rothman, and we chatted for a bit about
the film. About how fantastic TITANIC will be, etc... We talked a bit about the
"Minneapolis/St Paul screening" of TITANIC... He then said there were going to be a few
70mm prints of TITANIC struck, and how if at all possible, I should find my way to a
theater playing it in 70mm. Not likely given Austin never gets 70mm prints dag dum it.
