Turzman

Go Offend Yourself...

2011-10-18T14:24:00.000-07:00

E-mail complaints to kismas@faq.com

Peece.

Oh, my!

2011-10-17T13:47:00.000-07:00

A man breaks into a house to look for money and guns. Inside, he finds a couple in bed. He orders the guy out of the bed and ties him to a chair.
While tying the home owner's wife to the bed, the convict gets on top of her, kisses her neck, then gets up & goes into the bathroom.

While he's in there, the husband whispers over to his wife, "Listen, this guy is an escaped convict. Look at his clothes! He's probably spent a lot of time in jail and hasn't seen a woman in years. I saw how he kissed your neck. If he wants sex, don't resist, don't complain ... do whatever he tells you. Satisfy him no matter how much he nauseates you. This guy is obviously very dangerous. If he gets angry, he'll kill us both. Be strong, honey. I love you!"

His wife responds, "He wasn't kissing my neck. He was whispering in my ear. He told me that he's gay, thinks you're cute, and asked if we had any Vaseline. I told him it was in the bathroom. Be strong honey. I love you too."

Amity Island Harbor Master Frank Silva says, "Ah, the true measure of a man. Would ye be ridin' the baloney pony to save the life of yer wifey? Not so quick to answer, is ye?"

Church Humor

2011-10-15T00:40:00.000-07:00

A pastor's wife was expecting a baby, so he stood before the congregation and asked for a raise. After much discussion, they passed a rule that whenever the preacher's family expanded, so would his paycheck.

After 6 children, this started to get expensive and the congregation decided to hold another meeting to discuss the preacher's expanding salary. A great deal of yelling and inner bickering ensued, as to how much the clergyman's additional children were costing the church, and how much more it could potentially cost.

After listening to them for about an hour, the pastor rose from his chair and spoke, 'Children are a gift from God, and we will take as many gifts as He gives us'. Silence fell on the congregation.

In the back pew, a little old lady struggled to stand, and finally said in her frail voice, 'Rain is also a gift from God, but when we get too much of it, we wear rubbers..'

The entire congregation said, 'Amen..'

Internet addict Pornocat says, "I don't get it...?"

MALE SENSITIVITY

2011-09-20T03:00:00.000-07:00

The room was full of pregnant women with their partners. The class was in full swing. The instructor was teaching the women how to breathe and was telling the men how to give the necessary assurance to their partners at this stage of the pregnancy.

She said "Ladies, remember that exercise is good for you. Walking is especially beneficial. It strengthens the pelvic muscles and will make delivery that much easier. Just take several stops and stay on a soft surface like grass or a path."

She looked at the men in the room, "and Gentlemen, remember -- You're in this together -- It wouldn't hurt you to go walking with her."

The room suddenly got very quiet as the men absorbed this information.

Then a man at the back of the room slowly raised his hand.

"Yes," answered the Instructor.

"I was just wondering if it would be all right if she carries a golf bag
While we walk?"

Internet addict Pornocat says, "I don't think this post is funny at all. Golfing is an elitist pastime and I do not approve. No, sir. And until you start writing about porn and posting pictures of sexy women, I shall stop reading your blog. Meow!"

MARINES BANNED FROM FARTING IN AFGHANISTAN

2011-09-03T23:48:00.000-07:00

MARINES BANNED FROM FARTING IN AFGHANISTAN:

Marines in Afghanistan have reportedly been told not to pass gas around Afghans to avoid offending the indigenous population. That's right, now any leatherneck who lets one rip on patrol with Afghans nearby could receive a talk from his superior officer.
The new flatulence restriction was first picked up by the Military Times and has since become fodder for online discussion ranging from the curious to the ridiculous. A few military bloggers have taken it seriously and found the ban to be indicative of a trend among military brass of bending over backwards to avoid offending the locals. Others have pointed out that a culture that has allowed stoning, various forms of execution, and amputations as penalties for criminal offenses should be able to withstand a little passed gas.
The new regulation is not covered in the Uniform Code of Military Justice and the military has not even confirmed it exists. For now, the "fart ban" appears to be simply a guideline for good manners while Marines are out on patrol.

PERSONALLY I THINK THE BAN STINKS.

Guardian of the Universe Gamera says, "And now it's political humor and fart jokes. If this is a sign of blogs to come I may stop reading."

.

Amity Island Harbor Master Frank Silva says, "Aye, tis pathetic. And believe me when I say the worst part is this is no joke. Tis really discourteous to be breakin tha wind in front of brown people. We had a similar restriction back in me Navy days. We weren't allowed to have sex with each other, as to not disrupt our morale."

SO THAT YOU UNDERSTAND WASHINGTON POLITICS

2011-08-24T23:32:00.000-07:00

SO THAT YOU UNDERSTAND WASHINGTON POLITICS....

The English language has some wonderfully anthropomorphic collective nouns for the various groups of animals.

We are all familiar with a Herd of cows, a Flock of chickens, a School of fish and a Gaggle of geese.

However, less widely known is a Pride of lions, a Murder of crows (as well as their cousins the rooks and ravens), an Exaltation of doves and, presumably because they look so wise, a Parliament of owls.

Now consider a group of Baboons. They are the loudest, most dangerous, most obnoxious, most viciously aggressive and least intelligent of all primates. And what is the proper collective noun for a group of baboons? Believe it or not ....... a Congress!

Education and entertainment.

Guardian of the Universe Gamera says, "So this is what it's come to, Turz? Political humor? Really?"

Arcade Memoirs, Vol. I ~ The Ballad of Marcos

2011-08-02T01:38:00.000-07:00

Marcos is a homeless guy I met my first month on the island. I gave a friend a ride to Tripler Army Hospital for an appointment and Marcos was in the lobby for no particular reason other than to play his guitar and serenade the sick.
He wasn't any good, but I admired the sentiment. I went to Tripler 3 times in two onths and he was always there.
Some months later, I was in Waikiki admiring the prostitutes one night when lo and behold, there was Marcos in a bus stop, two blocks from the beach, playing his guitar. He hadn't gotten any better, but hey, it was Marcos; on another part of the island.

What a coincidence.

And now, some more months later, I see Marcos on a regular basis, as he is a regular customer at the adult arcade gig I snagged on Hotel Street. Nowadays I see Marcos almost every day.

It's such a small island...

Anyways- you may be wondering why Marcos is the focus of my premiere installment of The Arcade Memoirs and if you're not, you've probably stopped reading by now. So I'd better continue without further dispatch...
Last Sunday while I was in the middle of a 16 hour shift, he strolls in and announced that he had been sleeping all morning on Waikiki Beach but was still soooooo tiiiiired. So tired. After sleeping all morning on the beach at Waikiki. (It's amazing what some people take for granted, no? Here he is, living the dream of literally millions of people on the mainland and he blows it off like I do a pleasant fart.)
After I explained that I had no interest in hearing his tale of how he accomplished absolutely nothing that day, I politely requested that he buzz the hell off! Afterwhich he smiled and shuffled away to the pits of our private peepshow booths to watch a little PRON. That was the last anyone saw of Marcos for the next 45 minutes.

Once he got that out of his system, he had a new itch to scratch; video games! He dug deep in his pockets for the last of his loose change. A dime, two nickels and five pennies. He asked to trade them in for a quarter. He gave me the coins, and they stuck to my hand!!!

OH MY FRIGGING GAWD!

Dr. Jekyll took a back seat to Mr. Hyde as I was just a sniff away from tearing him a new a**hole. I would have too, but I was too disgusted to touch him. He started to clean off the coins on his shirt. "NO FRIGGING WAY!" I explained to him, as calmly as I possibly could. I told him to go to the restroom and clean each coin individually with soap and water while I dumped half a bottle of hand sanitizer on my hands and face. FREE-KING GROSS, DUDE.

Feel free to leave snide comments. Go ahead, get it out of your system. But know this; such is the manner of tales you may expect to read about in future episodes of The Arcade Memoirs. Abandon all hope, ye who dare to read my stuff.

The impatient ghost of Robert Shaw says, "Bloody Christ! I would prefer to read your tawdry, pedantic, opinionated bantering about pornographic cinema than this filthy mess! At least pornography is fanciful fiction. This tale is so disgusting it must be a true story. This makes me wish the afterlife had a Pub."

Separated at Birth (almost nsfw, but acceptable)

2011-07-21T17:35:00.000-07:00

My blogging hiatus has not been in vain. I assure you, the time I was not here, acting as custodian of Turzman Central has been spent on an edification project of scholarly proportions.

This is what I've been wrapping my brain around for the last three and a half months...

If anyone were to ever produce and distribute a XXX NASCAR porn parody, the role of Danica Patrick must be played by India Summer. Ergo, the proof...

Danica Patrick ~

India Summer ~

Yes. This is what I've been contemplating since April. Excessive obsession? Possibly. But I'm right, ain't I? Here, look again...

Danica Patrick ~

India Summer ~

Need more proof?

Danica Patrick ~

India Summer ~

I can do this all day.

Danica Patrick ~

India Summer ~

If I'm wrong about this, I DO NOT WANT TO BE RIGHT!
By the way, if this post is NSFW, you seriously need a new job.
Feel free to leave comments.

Amity Island Harbor Master Frank Silva says, "Tis nice to see Turzman's still thinkin with ye small head rather than the correct one. I was afraid maybe ye spent the time recoverin from the scurvy, or whatever it is that ails ya. But ye still be sick in tha head and all is as it should be."

Internet addict Pornocat says, "I agree and I think God does too. Why else would India Summer look ten years younger than she really is? To play a woman who actually is ten years younger than she is. If that's not Divine Intervention, then God is wasting everybody's time. Meow."

A Priest and a Rabbi...

2011-07-19T00:03:00.000-07:00

A priest and a rabbi go to a boxing match together.
Popcorn and beer in hand, butts in seats, they both
eagerly await an exciting fight night.

As the pugilists enter the ring, the rabbi notices
one of the fighters crosses himself after saying a
prayer.

The rabbi asked the priest, "Why did he cross himself?
What does that mean?"

The priest answered, "It doesn't mean a damned thing
if he can't fight!"

"Derp!"

ps- I'm back...

Guardian of the Universe Gamera says, "Big deal. I didn't miss you. Nah, jus kiddin. Welcome back, Turz."

Tales from the PRON Shop: The Final Chapter

2011-04-02T16:33:00.000-07:00

Or, Why I Don't Go to Church on Sundays, Reason # 537,930,993,220,402,189,349,105,286,345,833,445,223,109,099,040,389,289,420.

Me, in my Paradise within Paradise.

Don't think I'm exaggerating with that number. If I took the time to list all my personal reasons for not going to church, and worshiping a deity that, let's face it, no organized religion (see: CULT) has gotten right, I would probably come up with a comparable number, if not higher.
Indeed, only this morning, God and the state of Hawaii united against me and gave me two more reasons. But those are for another blog at another time. And you can bet your ASS there will be another blog at another time.

But first, the last days of my beloved Wahiawa PRON store.

But before that, a precursor...

Many years ago, I made an arrangement with God. No, not a deal with the Devil (although I'm starting to think the Devil would have been more trustworthy), an arrangement with the Big Boss himself. "Stay out of my life and I'll stay out of yours." It was that simple. I never fell for the fairy tale bullsh*t every pastor, reverend, rabbi and shaman on the planet preached. It amazed me how all these different religions preached exactly the same thing and yet purported to be better than all the rest. What amazed me even further was the staggering number of idiots that did fall for it and how few correctly agreed with me. Apply some basic logic, reason and common sense and suddenly, the stories in the Bible are no different than the canons of Mother Goose and the Brothers Grimm. But I held my tongue.
Yes, out of respect for the throngs of morons I insufferably deal with daily (whom, ironically I have NO respect for) I made my peace with their ignorance and kept my mouth shut. I told God I would not try to show these mouth-breathers how stupid they were, and let them live their blissfully ignorant lives with the stipulation that He Himself would not interfere with my personal goals and happiness. I think the arrangement was more than fair.

The Gas face on 3rd shift, dealing with the Wahiawa night owls.

Well, only one of us kept their side of the bargain. Wanna guess who was the underhanded, sniveling shyster that broke the deal? Here's a hint; it was the all loving, all forgiving, almighty Yahweh that reneged, not the imperfect, originally sinful, impossibly flawed mortal.
God, being jealous and spiteful, made it a point to go out of His way to ensure I was miserable. For decades, He was there at every crossroads, to make sure I took the wrong path, no matter which way I went. I would take one step forward, and He would violently knock me seven steps back.

"What's this?" he would bellow at me, "You dare not to fall for my bullsh*t, like every other one of your kind?"
"No," was my humble reply. "I don't buy it, I think you're full of yourself. Your rules are unreasonable and contradictory and I want no part of it. But you seem to have a good scam going on here, so ah salud, more power to you, and let's just part ways."

But of course, that is too reasonable and logical for God's tastes. So I've endured decades of misery and disappointment, when all I wanted out of life was to be happy, and pay my rent. That's it. I never wanted an exorbitant amount of wealth or power. And I have made it a point to be as honest and moral as a person who doesn't buy what God is selling can possibly be. Looking at my station in life, that has gotten me nowhere. I'm honest to a fault and after 40 years, I regret never becoming a professional criminal. But I digress.

Nutshell; God broke our deal and made me miserable. Thus endeth the precursor.

Imagine my surprise when I found a job that,
a) I absolutely adored,
b) was very, very good at, and
c) actually provided enough money to pay all the bills!

One of the last times I was content. I think it was a Tuesday.

I was *gulp* HAPPY?!?!?!
I almost didn't recognize it. Happiness. After years and years of undeserved bad luck and trouble, Life was finally not fu*king me anally sans lube. I shouted from the rooftops, "HALLELUJAH! I am finally happy!"
I really was! I even said so on this very blog and on my Facebook posts. I even broke down and thanked God for not interfering with me anymore. I figured, after all that time struggling and fighting an entity that cannot be defeated, He finally gave in and left me alone.

That proved to be a horrible, horrible error on my part, as God called in His darkest, and most dastardly, unholy ogre to sit on my head and fart.
Allow me to introduce His most evil minion; an absurd cult that calls itself Surfing the Nations.

Ladies and gentlemen, meet The Enemy.

Surfing the mutha-fu*king Nations. Let me tell you about this gaggle of kumkwats. They are a collection of surfing co*ksuckers. (see: SURFERS) who, behind the facade of a church group, convince other church groups (see: IDIOTS) to give them money so they can exploit God and the bible. They take their ill-gotten gains and go on surfing safaris the world over.

Did you get that? I'll repeat it, because it's kind of important.
THEY TELL PEOPLE THEY NEED MONEY TO DO GOD'S WORK, THEN USE THE MONEY TO GO SURFING!
To keep up appearances, on the second Tuesday of each month they give food to Wahiawa's poor and homeless, which, if you don't know Wahiawa is pretty much every native resident of that town. And believe me, the poor show up en masse for all the free grub.
What the poor don't know (and probably don't care about, to be fair) is that STN purchased two plots of property next to the PRON shop. A bar (Wahiawa's last good bar, from what I'm told) and a low rent apartment complex behind it, thus putting a bar owner out of business, his employees out of work, and dozens of families out of their homes.
You know, God's work.

Open a dictionary and look up "disgraceful" and you'll see this picture.

Next, they set their sights on what is now the defunct Divine Pleasures, my beloved PRON shop and former employer.

You see, STN wanted their temple to be in a facility that was not next door to an adult theater and had parking, so naturally they bought a plot that had no parking and was next door to an adult theater.
You know, logic, common sense and reason.

They offered to buy the property. My bosses said they were not going out of business and were not interested in selling. In short, no thank you.
If God had any decency at all, that would have been the end of it. But since God practically defines indecency, the cult could not and would not take "no" for an answer.

The last of the lovely ladies from the Lesbian section.

The cult called on their natural bedfellows, corrupt city officials, and lined their pockets with some of that "God money" and the city ensued to make life miserable for Divine Pleasures.
We had planned to upgrade the theater and arcade, while adding a few private rooms. We planned to downgrade our DVD inventory (as it is a dying medium) to make room for different merchandise. The possibilities were endless and we were all excited.
But the upgrades meant bringing the building up to code, and this is where politicians chose to side with the Evil Empire and c*ck blocked us at every turn. We would hire contractors to do the upgrades and four days into the project, along would come the City with a cease and desist order.
Then we would receive official threats of closure from the city if the building was not up to code. But we couldn't code the building because the city stopped the upgrades.
Do you see the pretty little circle created there? All the while, the cultists sat back on their worthless haunches as inspectors did their dirty work.
You know, like Christ would do.

Not anymore. Not in Wahiawa, at least.

Long story short (I know, too late), my bosses got tired of fighting a battle they never would have won, and sold out.
So basically, I have to go on unemployment because some stupid cult needs a parking lot.
Ever since I made my arrangement with God, and during the time he was ignoring it, I looked at religion (see: CULTS) from a different perspective. Instead of being an insider trapped in a place I never wanted to be in the first place, I was an outsider looking in. I looked at the state of the entire world, pretty much from a new angle. I see what God allows to happen. I see evil prospering. I see bad people thriving. I see good people struggling. Kindness is never rewarded. Those who break the rules and cheat reap all kinds of rewards. All this while a god who supposedly "loves" us, sits back and giggles his ass off. I used to think he sat back and did nothing, but I'm sure he gets a kick out of seeing innocent creatures suffer. Or else, why would he allow it to happen? To test our faith? Pardon my french, but FUCK THAT. I liken God to a child and the Earth is His ant-farm. Every time he gets bored, he shakes the ant-farm and chuckles at all the chaos. The worst part is this child never grows up and never matures.

Travesty. A mega-deplorable travesty. All due to the whim of cultists.

There are some who might think I'm wrong. They might think the forces of good defeated the forces of evil on this day. Well I'm here to tell you to fu*k off. There was nothing good out of this. Porn is a beautiful thing and everyone wants it. Those who won't admit that are the ones with the problem, not those of us who love it and are not ashamed. I bet anything we would be hard pressed to find any cultist that has half the courage it takes to be a porn star or stripper. Fu*k you all, and fu*k your shoes of the Goody-Two variety. Keep living your lives, your god's will is being done, and it doesn't matter at whose expense, as you see it.

Goodbye, old friend. None of this was your fault.

Amen, assholes.

Guardian of the Universe Gamera says, "Your blog offends me today. I would delete you from my Facebook if you weren't right about this and so justified in being bitter. Plus I find it very difficult to take serious the concept of a 'god' when I'm 200 feet tall and can take down skyscrapers with my atomic fire breath."

Internet addict Pornocat says, "Wait a minute, does this mean you won't be getting any more dirty movies with an employee discount? How will you sustain your addiction? Who will I borrow porn from? This is horrible! Meow."

Amity Island Harbor Master Frank Silva says, "I always felt these skin flicks o' yers were birthed from the briniest depths o' Davey Jones' locker and are scurvy filth. But ye right in yer assessment o' churches and stupid people. Ironically, despite right n wrong, ye will be goin' ta Hell for today's post just as sure as the summer dinks be comin' to Amity to keep our businesses afloat!"

.

"The Shadow out of Time"

2011-02-22T02:15:00.000-08:00

The Great Race seemed to form a single, loosely knit nation or league, with major institutions in common, though there were four definite divisions. The political and economic system of each unit was a sort of fascistic socialism, with major resources rationally distributed, and power delegated to a small governing board elected by the votes of all able to pass certain educational and psychological tests. Industry, highly mechanized, demanded but little time from each citizen; and the abundant leisure was filled with intellectual and aesthetic activities of various sorts. The sciences were carried to an unbelievable height of development, and art was a vital part of life.

~~ H. P. Lovecraft
The Shadow out of Time

"Would you say I had a plethora of gifts...?"

2011-02-15T18:43:00.000-08:00

Yes, El Guapo, yes you do.
As do I...

The young bandito didn't know what a plethora was when inquired about such by El Guapo, but if I had any doubt what a "plethora of gifts" was, I was given a clear cut example yesterday.

Yes friends, another birthday has come and gone, and despite reaching the insufferable 4-0, (a target by the way, I did not expect to reach when I was in my twenties) this was the first birthday in a long time where I was not depressed at all. Let me take you through my day...

5am- alarm goes off. There was no need to arise so early, but for some reason I wanted to be conscience for the bulk of this particular occasion. I didn't know why, and this is also almost the exact opposite of my plans for birthdays past. Sleeping them away was always preferable to being awake. Go figure...

5:30am- get out of the shower, get dressed, walk across the street to Denny's. I had been thinking of this for months because Mr. Denny has been kind enough in the past to give a free Grand Slam Breakfast to people on their birthdays. The fact that they hadn't stopped that promotion on this very day suggested my luck had definitely turned.

Eggs, bacon, pancakes, hash browns, toast, juice and coffee. A legendary breakfast, to say the least.

On top of that, a phone call to my parents on this, their anniversary. Breakfast with mom and dad, with 3000 miles of ocean between us, but it felt as if they were sitting across the table from me. The time flew by...

7am- hop in the car and trek to the Wahiawa Porn Shop to meet Matt, my friend and co-worker who was on a mission to get a bunch of Valentine sh*t for his wife and deliver them to her at work. Dippy, saccharin infested romantic bullsh*t; not usually my cup of tea. But he needed a ride and asked for my help. I figured, what the hell, my calendar was open. Mission accomplished, with an assist from the birthday boy.

10:30am- go home. I popped the iPod into the docking station, set it to shuffle and hit play. A litany of musical all-stars made it a point to serenade me all day long while I sat and answered all my Facebook posts. And this is what amazed me the most...
Waiting for me were over sixty birthday messages. In the last five years, I don't think I had sixty birthday messages between Facebook and mySpace combined. It was a humbling experience to read and answer all the notes while, wafting through the air of my bedroom amongst the cigarette smoke, were the sounds of Billy Joel, Frank Sinatra, Bad Religion, Flotsam & Jetsam, the Ramones, Machinehead, Slayer, Men At Work, Killer Dwarfs, Supersuckers, the Reverend Horton Heat, Kittie, Death Angel, Rush, Iron Maiden, Tamela D'Amico, Social Distortion, Cadillac Tramps, Jerry Lee Lewis, Devo, Mozart, Beethoven, Liszt, and a 1970's disco compilation among others. The hours flew by at an almost alarming rate.

3pm (approx)- a phone call from Steve, Alex and Joey from New York. Thanks guys, love you all.

4pm- some quality time with the dog. Sonny, my little guy, my best friend. Seeing as he was a birthday present to me back in 2005, he had an extra-special birthday lunch too. A mix of Pedigree wet and dry with a marrow nugget, Milk Bone and ice water. He was pleasantly surprised. Then we went for a long walk. He pooped.

6pm- nap time. I had to pull an all-niter selling PRON on the Good Stuff Express, so a nap was essential to recharge my batteries. I was refreshed.

9:15pm- off to work. It was early, so I made a side trip to McDonald's with a fist full of gift certificates I had been saving for a special occasion. I have not eaten Mickey D's in over 15 years because they are so horrible, but I had the coupons so I decided to throw caution into the wind...
Big Mac, Quarter Pounder with cheese, fries and a super-sized coke. They tasted exactly the same as I fondly remember. It was like reuniting with a long lost friend. It's comforting to know some things never change.

Later that evening I pooped a little bit of blood with my stool. Unfortunately some things never change. But I can go another 15 years without McDonald's.

11pm- sold some sex. Always a good time.

12 midnight- Birthday officially over.

The only thing missing was the extra sensual, Valentine birthday date night, which the work schedule did not allow. But I have slated time on my next day off for all that, which gives me time to decide who, among the hundreds of porn stars at my renting disposal, will come home with me.

Feel free to leave suggestions but please, don't try to be funny and suggest any of the guys. I never learned how to switch hit.

Thanks to all for making my day great with Facebook posts. For those who didn't, oh well. I didn't expect too much anyway.

Feliz cumpleanos a mi, pendejos! Jajajajaja!

Internet addict Pornocat says, "There isn't enough bandwidth on all the Net for me to list my reasons and suggestions for your date night, so I'll leave that decision in your capable paws. Happy birthday, meow."

Tales from the PRON Shop (safe)

2011-02-05T21:23:00.000-08:00

It has been way too long since I shared the cummings of life in the Wahiawa Porn Shop with you, but the fact is, not much has been happening in the past months. Literally.

Sales have plummeted since the autumn. Christmas came and went where we saw a slight increase in the hump on the bar graph, but it was not as high as it should have been.
January was a figurative dead zone, despite a 40% sale off ALL merchandise. Scary rumors were rampant and morale was low.

Welcome, February! Here and now, in the early dawn of 2011's Valentine Season, something has changed; LOVE appears to be in the air. A shallow, quickie, one night of just a lil fun love, but love nonetheless. Thanks to young couples in love and gaggles of lonely soldiers this Friday and Saturday has been my personal best, 2-day sales period since joining the Divine Pleasures Ohana.

With one day left in the weekend and still another week before that bastard Cupid crawls out of his hole to look for his shadow, I expect this to be a monster week in sales. Thank God for the universal concept of horny. We are all horny and should act accordingly.

In celebration of this Valentine season, I would like to add another gem to my collection of Girls I really, really wanna have sex with, but who wouldn't gallery. The super-duper, mega lovely and talented India Summer...

India Summer can be seen in the upcoming Star Trek: The Next Generation: A XXX Parody and this is one of the strongest infatuations I have ever had. Next time you're on Facebook, check out her fan page as well as the Divine Pleasures fan page.

Until next time, stay horny because it's a sign that you're still alive. Support your local PRON shop. Porn is a beautiful thing.

Amity Island Harbor Master Frank Silva says, "Damn ye, Turz. If yer still gonna watch that filth at least write ye movie reviews and post pictures for the deviant vermin that peruse ye scurvy blog."

Blizzard Humor

2011-02-01T20:25:00.001-08:00

Inquiry: What is the worst way to survive a blizzard?

Answer: PARTY NAKED!

Guardian of the Universe Gamera says, "Atomic fire breath isn't such a stupid idea now, eh?"

"On a Dark & Stormy Night" returns from the dead...

2011-01-22T18:47:00.000-08:00

Unlike it's ensemble cast of characters who met ugly demises, the motion picture On a Dark & Stormy Night has been dug up from the grave and a resurrection attempt of Frankensteinian proportions is under way.

The film, shot in 2007, is still unreleased to date despite showings at three film festivals between 2009-2010, two awards and generally positive criticism. By the end of 2010 though, all parties involved had deflated attitudes about a potential national distribution of the film on DVD.
However, early in 2011 a critique of Stormy Night mysteriously appeared at Cold Fusion Video Reviews, and this week it was announced the film has gained acceptance to the Indy Horror Film Festival in Dekalb, Illinois.

Armed with the power of positive thinking and a fan page on Facebook, the cast, crew and producers are again hopeful On a Dark & Stormy Night will have a distribution deal sometime this year.

To the handful of viewers who have seen the film, we ask for your continued support. Go to the Facebook page and suggest it to your friends. Read the Cold Fusion review and leave comments.

Please don't force us to resort to bribing you with autographs and memorabilia from the film.

Whoops.

Happy New Year

2011-01-03T12:26:00.000-08:00

May all your endeavors receive positive criticism.
Nothing new to report since the last 2 months.
There are not even any film critiques on the
foreseeable horizon.

Why are you still reading this?

Happy Thanksgiving

2010-11-25T11:45:00.001-08:00

God Loves Violence

2010-11-15T13:33:00.000-08:00

Why else would there be so much of it? It is what we do more naturally than we breathe.

We wage war. We burn sacrifices. We pillage and tear at the flesh of our brothers. We fill great fields with our stinking dead.

And why?

To show Him that we've learned from His example.

God gives us earthquakes, hurricanes, tornadoes. He gives us mountains that spew fire onto our heads. Oceans that swallow ships.

He gives us nature, and nature is a smiling killer.

He gives us disease so that in our death we believe He gave us orifices only so that we could feel our life bleed out of them.

He gave us lust, fury, greed and our filthy hearts so that we could wage violence in His honor.

There is no moral order as pure as a storm, no moral order at all.

There is only this question-

Can my violence conquer yours?

Fun Facts: Condoms

2010-10-02T22:01:00.000-07:00

Did you know...?

The condom was invented in 1786 by Muslim clerics in an effort at population control.

The first condoms were made from the inner lining of goat intestines.

That much is common knowledge, but did you know that the design was improved upon in 1818 by the Brits?

What they did was remove the intestines from the goat prior to using the lining as a condom.

I think we all owe a debt of gratitude to British ingenuity.

The impatient ghost of Robert Shaw says, "What the bloody hell is a Muslim?"

Film Critique- "Dark Star"

2010-09-04T03:08:00.000-07:00

I had high hopes for this one. Seriously. To say I was let down is an understatement. But considering the circumstances, maybe I was a bit harsh, but I calls 'em as I sees 'em.
From the archives at www.karmacritic.com and Operation Orca, I present 1974's Dark Star.
Enjoy. I didn't.

Dark Star (1974)
starring: Brian Narelle, Cal Kuniholm, Dre Pahich, Dan O'Bannon
written by: John Carpenter & Dan O'Bannon
directed by: John Carpenter

My respect for John Carpenter as a director, and Dan O'Bannon as a screenwriter was elevated to new heights after viewing 1974's Dark Star. It's not that this unfunny attempt at a 2001: A Space Odyssey parody is any good, but I came to the realization that the most acclaimed of film makers, no matter how impressive their body of work may be, at one point in their careers they are human enough to go through growing pains.

Squeak Toys from Outer Space

The 5 intrepid astronauts aboard the scout ship Dark Star are on the senseless mission of trekking across the galaxy destroying "unstable planets" (?). The "whys" are not explained to the audience, but apparently Earthlings have a problem with planets breaking their orbits and crashing into their respective suns, causing supernovas millions of light years away from Earth (!) So much in fact, that these men have been in space doing this for twenty years, although according to the dialogue, they have only aged three years (!). What? Well...

"Set masturbators on stun."

What campy sci-fi would be complete without the obligatory computer malfunctions? Don't worry, Dark Star has oodles of them, the only difference is, none of the crew members show any cause for concern that planet-destroying bombs have nearly exploded (!), or that a "communication laser" (?) has been damaged throughout the film's running time. The chaos and lack of standard operating procedures can be understood though, for the crew of five is has actually been reduced to a crew of four before the movie even starts. Apparently, the Commander was killed due to a radiation leak some time ago (another one of those pesky "malfunctions").

"Sir, sensors are detecting heavy traces of nostril."

Why don't they call for help, or fly home to dry dock and get some repairs? Those are good questions, and they are answered before you get the chance to ask, in the film's prologue; a message from Earth's antarctic communications base saying they were happy to receive the message, and were "real sad" to hear of the Commander's death, but since it takes ten years for a message to go one way (!) there's no way they can send help. So good luck, and carry on, as it were.

So let's recap. They've been in space for twenty years and in that time, the commander has been killed, there have been exactly two messages sent, and this ship is falling apart while hauling god-awful amounts of explosives (enough to blow up multiple planets. You do the math, because apparently neither Carpenter nor O'Bannon bothered to).

"Personal log, Day 717: We set the masturbators on stun, agaaaain. I really wanna try it on the 'kill' setting."

Um, if I were in charge, I think I would turn this bird around and go home, cutting whatever losses I've had to a minimum. But it's not my call. We all must defer to Lieutenant Doolittle (Brian Narelle), who is just concerned with blowing up planets. Doolittle doesn't care about the inconsequential computer malfunctions, until too much proverbial poo-poo hits the fan, and he finds himself overwhelmed. What does he do? He opens the freezer and tries to get advice from the long-dead and frozen corpse of the old commander (!) Oddly, the dead man answers (!!) in Jesus-like riddles, not being much help, but hey, considering the man was dead to begin with, we get a whole lot more than we should have expected. What? Well...

Not quite collectible, is it?

Let's fast forward now. Due to yet another computer malfunction, Bomb #20 is unable to launch and blow up it's target planet because, well, it just won't launch. But Bomb #20 is still going to explode, because, well, that's what Bomb #20 is supposed to do. You see, Bomb #20 is this wise-cracking, super smart computer that controls the actual bomb, and it's sick and tired of constantly being called on to blow up, and then aborting because of some computer malfunction. Don't bother trying to re-read that last part, let's just say that Bomb #20 is Dark Star's HAL, and he's gonna blow the ship to pieces. Otherwise, there would be no drama, right?

The funniest thing about the bomb is the caution sticker. Other than that, it's unfunny.

Fast forward a little more. For some reason, Doolittle goes outside the ship to try and talk Bomb #20 out of blowing up the ship (!). Somehow, another crew member gets blown out into space and Doolittle goes off to rescue him. This is when Bomb #20 decides to say, "f*ck it" and blows Dark Star to bits along with crewmen Boiler (Cal Kuniholm) and Pinback (co-scribe Dan O'Bannon himself!). So Doolittle and Talby (Dre Pahich) are floating around space, wondering what to do. What happens next is... well I don't know.

Surprisingly, no Beach Boys song was on the soundtrack during this scene.

My rental disc, courtesy of Netflix was damaged and stopped right here. So let's just say that they float around until they die. Roll credits.

Dark Star is listed as "classic sci-fi comedy" but it's not funny. Not at all. I cannot recommend this film for any reason, including fun, campy goodness. There's none of that, and there's not much of a plot, or likable characters, or clever, witty computers.

Well, there is an alien, a plastic ball with feet that the crew brought onboard as a mascot, but they kill it (?) because it turns out it was just a pest(!).

Yeah, it's cute. But you laugh at it, not with it.

What? Well...

Guardian of the Universe Gamera says, "A month since your last post and you cut & paste from the archives? You are really bad at this Internet thing, Turz!"

Internet addict Pornocat says, "At least the screencaps with captions are new. They're pretty funny. Very good review. Now do another porno movie, please? Meow!"

The impatient ghost of Robert Shaw says, "Stop summoning me to read your bloody blogs!"

One Brown Mouse

2010-08-19T20:02:00.001-07:00

Some beer was spilled on the barroom floor
When the pub was shut for the night.
When from out of his hole crept one brown mouse
Who stood in the pale moonlight.

He lapped up the frothy foam from the floor
Then back on his haunches he sat,
And all night long you could hear the mouse roar,
"BRING ON THE FUCKING CAT!"

XXX Film Critique- "Babysitters"

2010-08-12T22:40:00.000-07:00

This film comes dangerously close to not qualifying for a Turzman critique. The “plot,” albeit simplistic by even PRON standards, is so contrived to set up the sex that Babysitters is more compilation than story driven. However, since I already took the time to collect screencaps and watch the thing, away we go. From Digital Playground...

Babysitters (2007)
starring: Jesse Jane, Teagan Presley, Shay Jordan, Sophia Santi, Sasha Grey, Alektra Blue, Nikki Benz, Nautica Thorn, Gina Lynn, Angie Savage, Lexxi Tyler, Tommy Gunn, Charles Dera, Jay Lassiter
written by: I dunno, a headless monkey?
directed by: Robby D.

Five couples have plans to go out and hire babysitters to watch the kids. In what is possibly the most amazing (and forced) coincidence in all cinema history, all their plans fall through. Suddenly with oodles of free time, all the babysitters have sex with everybody. Except the children. That would be illegal.

"Um, I don't know what you think babysitting is, but I don't watch kids. I assist husbands in committing adultery!"

Aside from said coincidence, there is absolutely no lineation connecting the sex. And the sex scenes, with one exception (more on that later), aren't all that noteworthy.
We open with Tommy Gunn greeting Jesse Jane at the door, and suddenly cut to Tony De Sergio greeting Nautica Thorn at the door. Thorn is there to babysit De Sergio’s kid, so naturally they have sex. Ironic, considering his wife hired the babysitter because he’s too inept to care for his own child (who is somewhere in the house while daddy is getting his nookie, by the way).

"What, what whaaaaa?!?!?!"

Up next is Sasha Grey, but before she can get to her babysitting gig, she gets dumped by her boyfriend (!). Because she won’t have sex with him (!!). (Can’t get laid by Sasha Grey in a PRON flick?! Sucks to be you, dude.) What follows is kind of confusing…

This is a precursor to the most disturbing use of saliva, ever!

Sasha’s gig has been cancelled and the reasoning is a testament to how much of a jerk Charles Dera’s character is. Apparently, he sent his wife off to a Tupperware party so he could have a bachelor party for his friends (Jay Lassiter, Jerry and Sascha). But instead of calling a hooker or a stripper, he called a babysitter (?) To top off the nonsense, Grey is more than willing to be the star attraction of their gang-blowjob because she needs the money! So let’s think about this; she won’t have sex with her boyfriend, but she’ll have sex with complete strangers for money. Oh yeah- just the kind of girl I fantasize about. And by the way, the scene is quite probably the sloppiest, most disgusting, saliva-drenched episode I’ve ever witnessed. I swear, by the end, there’s enough spit on Grey’s face to saturate the Sahara and grow grass. I didn’t think it possible for me to lose my wood while watching a sex scene featuring Sasha Grey, but Babysitters manages to pull off that miracle.

The Surgeon General has determined that sex with Teagan Presley will cure a broken leg.

Mercifully, we cut to the Tupperware party, and I say mercifully because it leads to the best part of the film; Sophia Santi takes charge of a full-out lesbian orgy featuring Alektra Blue, Angie Savage, Lexxi Tyler, and Sammie Rhodes. As hot as the scene is, it cannot save this film because during the final four scenes, I found myself wondering when the hell this snooze-fest was going to end.

"Hmmm, guys with beer at a bachelor party. I see why you called a babysitting service."

Teagan Presley is paired with Tyler Wood, and then Shay Jordan humps Scott Nails. After pop, Nails leaves so Jordan can hump Gina Lynn and Ben English. This leads to our finale where Tommy Gunn and Nikki Benz double team Jesse Jane. Typical PRON fare, nothing special worth mentioning.

The premise of Babysitters is so absurd and the sex is so hum-drum that I cannot give this film a Turzman recommendation. Aside from high production quality (which we’ve come to expect from Digital Playground) and the one hot lesbian orgy, this film is not worth your time.

Internet addict Pornocat says, "With a title like Babysitters, they could have at least had a picture of a child somewhere to give the film credibility."

Film Critique Hiatus: IT'S SHARK WEEK !

2010-08-02T19:16:00.000-07:00

In lieu of it being Shark Week on Discovery Channel, I find myself lacking the ambition to do anything but watch a bunch of Shark Docs on the tube.
So no mainstream stuff nor PRON will be opined on this week but the carnage will continue soon enough.

I have only one critique remaining to be retrieved from the archives at Operation Orca and NONE remaining at the now defunct KarmaCritic. So coming soon, as soon as I gather some screencaps will be my look at Dark Star, an attempt at comedy from early in John Carpenter's career.

Coming soon by way of the Pornographic Midnight Snack, I know, I promised takes on Nurses and Babysitters and I will keep my promise. Further down the road, I'll write something about an offering featuring Lanny Barbie that caught my eye from the shelves. After that, Digital Playground gets ambitious by purchasing real airplane sets for their opus, Fly Girls. Here's the trailer...

On a personal note, I suffered a tremendous loss a little over a week ago and despite knowing I did what's best for me, last week was rough. I really thought she was the one for me; so special and unique and we just "clicked" well for a long time. Well to my chagrin I came to realize that she's just as special as a pencil in an office. The same size, shape and color as the rest.
Oh well. She has taken the steps to make sure I can't contact her; ie: changed e-mail, changed phone number and a block on Facebook & mySpace. On top of that, she's moving to a new apartment this month so I won't even have a snail-mail addy.

*sighs*

I should see this as a blessing, though. If I apply the "out of sight, out of mind" theory the pain should secede soon enough. I honestly wish her all the best, and I hope she finds a way to purge herself of all the demons that haunt her. Apparently she took care of the first one easily enough.

I'm speaking of me, jackass!

(Good bye, KT.)

XXX Film Critique- "No Love Lost"

2010-07-29T20:55:00.000-07:00

This edition of the Pornographic Midnight Snack is brought to you by Digital Playground-

No Love Lost (2009)
starring: Raven Alexis, James Deen, Mick Blue, Charles Dera, Alexis Texas, Kerry Louise, Scott Nails, Kristina Rose, Sadie West
written by: uh-huh
directed by: Robby D

In what is most certainly the coolest bachelor pad I have ever seen, James Deen and Charles Vera are lounging around an indoor pool (in what appears to be the living room, no less, complete with fully stocked bar, fire pit, big screen TV and a kick-ass sound system) with a couple of hotties (Alexis Texas, Kerry Louise). Just when the romance starts wafting into the air, there’s a knock on the door…

Ah, to be young and single in the PRONiverse!

…and Deen welcomes old friend Raven Alexis who is running away from her abusive boyfriend (Scott Nails). Raven sees the coupling alignment and doesn’t want to be the fifth wheel at the party. This normally is not a problem in the PRONiverse but Deen anticipated her arrival and planned accordingly. Enter Mick Blue, who is more than happy to play jack to Raven’s rabbit, so our number of players is evened out.

Upon showing her to her room, Raven provides Deen and the rest of us with some exposition, thus allowing this film to be story based. Her boyfriend beats her and she wants out. That’s not a problem for Deen, who obviously has plenty of room in his mansion for her to stay as long as she wants. “Just put on your bikini and join the party downstairs.” Deen says…

"Hello. I am a damsel in distress. Have ye a knight for me, kind sir?"

…so she does, and the table is set for most of our sex. After a few minutes of idle chat and some horseplay around the pool, the three couples part ways for some pseudo privacy. In three separate scenes, Dera hooks up with Alexis Texas, Kerry Lousie boinks Deen and of course, Raven is paired with Blue. The scenes are done quite well. They start off hot and maintain intensity while chewing up a fair amount of run time.

"Sorry, fresh out of knights. All I got left is this."

Alexis Texas uses her best ASSet (her butt, silly!) to pound away at Vera in this reverse cowgirl that made my jaw drop to the floor, and the pairing of Deen and Kerry is quick paced and stays fresh with a lot of position changes. Raven and Blue play it slowly and more sensual which works well because we can tell she is just so happy to be having sex with somebody other than her boyfriend. Which segues to the boyfriend.

Are you serious? Ladies? Really?

Next day, Scott drops by unannounced while Raven’s home alone, prepping a late breakfast for herself. He pulls off a noble effort on the “so you thought you could just walk away” schtick and has a little revenge sex. There’s nothing brutal about the scene, it’s just your standard PRON fare and Raven looks as if she’s enjoying it once she stops her whimpering. If this is her idea of abusive, she should be running away twice as fast from Mick Blue, based on just the last scene. But Scott is the film’s designated bad boy so shortly after pop he gets his ass whupped by Blue when the gang gets back from wherever it was they went. Deen and Dera have traded in the first girls for Sadie West and Christina Rose for reasons that remain a mystery, but it’s no downgrade. Dera has West while Deen takes Rose in two separate scenes to close the film on a strong note.

Hey! No non sex-related horseplay in the pool area! There's no lifeguard on duty.

Surprisingly, there’s no final scene with Raven and Blue. One would think that the hero and damsel should make whoopee once the “dragon” is slayed but alas, the film makers either wanted to keep the run time down or they were bound by the Mick Blue Proviso.

Revenge sex in 3... 2... 1

As is the case with Digital Playground productions, the quality is top-notch. The picture is clear, sound is crisp and overall is on tier with mainstream cinema. Raven Alexis is dazzling as the featured performer, as the earthy brunette gloriously teeters somewhere between “girl next door” and “the dorky teen from high school that grew up into a top shelf hottie.” Unfortunately, her acting (and the other cast members, too) is the nail in this coffin.

"Don't let my tattoo fool you. I'm really a tough guy."

The story is simple enough for PRON standards but the actors deliver rather poorly. Raven’s exposition with Deen is almost enough to make you want to eject the disk altogether (thank God for fast-forward!) and Blue is out-loud laughable when he’s hitting on her, and still more laughs are elicited during his “fight scene” with Nails. No, the dramatization No Love Lost attempts is certainly a train-wreck.

"Are you man enough to take me, my posse and my posse's pussy? Huh?"

The sex is worth the drama though, as all performers deliver admirably and Raven Alexis is, to coin a phrase, cute as a button. I recommend this film.

Guardian of the Universe Gamera says, "Scott Nails can sure use a lesson or three on self-defense. He went down faster than a porn star when the director yells action! What? That was funny, no?"

XXX Film Critique- "Strictly Conversation"

2010-07-21T22:43:00.000-07:00

This installment of the Pornographic Midnight Snack deals with a film that caught my eye with its very clever marketing ploy; it's title. Strictly Conversation in name is a far cry from what I'm used to seeing on the shelves (for example, Nut in my Butt, Part 4 comes to mind). Couple that with the absolutely adorable Meggan Mallone on the DVD cover, and I had no choice but to give this flick a shot. And I'm glad I did.

From Vivid studios, I am proud to give you...

Strictly Conversation (2008)
starring: Meggan Mallone, Lorena Sanchez, Ramon Nomar, Chris Johnson
written by: pffft- yeah right!
directed by: Paul Thomas

Strictly Conversation is exactly the type of PRON I had in mind when I hatched this brilliant idea of XXX critiquing at Turzman Central. It’s a mix of hot sex with a simple plot that tells a nice, easy story connecting the sex to the literature.

Meggan Mallone wants to learn how to speak Spanish because someday, she’s gonna visit Spain. Or Mexico, whichever.

That’s it.

"Tee-hee, you teacha me que habla espanglish?"

And that’s all it needs. This plot point, microscopic by mainstream standards, is spread out thinly yet evenly across the film’s run time and works fine as Strictly Conversation’s main plot.

"Oh HELL no! Oh no you dinnah hit on MY man!"

Mallone is getting a lesson from an unaccredited friend over lunch in a Mexican restaurant. She flirts with the waiter (Ramon Nomar) which pisses off his girlfriend (Lorena Sanchez). They have sex in the kitchen while they argue in Spanish (sans subtitles, so bilingualism on your part will be a plus if you ever watch this flick).
After pop, they’re still arguing and just when we, the viewers, are ready to move on, the film does exactly that…

…and shows us an example of Meggan’s home life. She’s working hard to be the perfect girlfriend to Chris Johnson who, despite her cooking, cleaning, planning of activities and sexual advances, just sits on his ass watching TV and drinking beer. What a moron.
When Chris finally breaks down and has sex with her (reluctantly, fer Chrissakes!) they only get halfway done because Meggan has to go pee. Instead of waiting patiently and having more sex, Chris gets dressed and leaves the room, leaving her alone in heat wondering what she did wrong.

Have I mentioned that Chris is a moron?

Will somebody please check this man for a pulse ?!?!

Meanwhile, back at the restaurant, Ramon and Lorena are still arguing. When Meggan shows up for another Spanish lesson her teacher is a no-show. Ramon gladly agrees to teach her, pissing off Lorena even more.

The next day, Meggan meets Ramon and tows him to a house where they can peep through the window at a threesome getting ready for a little GBG action (Carmen McCarthy, Holly West, Voodoo). Naturally they get horny and head back to the restaurant for some afternoon delight.

"I don't know, Meggan. This is even illegal in Mexico!"

Ramon actually does teach Meggan some words, and it’s kind of hot, but halfway through, Lorena walks in to see her boyfriend cheating and exercises her rite of Coitus Interruptus. In the real world, this is the part where Lorena gets seriously pissed and starts yelling and throwing things. But this is the PRONiverse, so naturally Lorena instead goes down on a scared-cowering Meggan, sending the distinct message, “Hey girl, it’s all good.” A hot lesbian scene ensues. Ramon joins in, they finish off and all is forgiven.

Here we have a textbook example of "Coitus Interruptus."

All Meggan needs now to end this perfect day would be for Chris to not be such a jerk, right? Well guess what…
She comes home to find Chris dressed only in a sombrero and poncho, holding a pair of tickets to Acapulco. Meggan gets laid, learns Spanish and gets a trip to Mexico! Oh happy day.

Yay, makeup sex! Pop, roll credits.

Hop-Along Douchebag

Mallone has a really cute “girl-next-door” kind of thing going on and her sex is very arousing. She delivers her lines adequate enough and I think she has what it takes to be a PRON leading lady.
To hear Lorena and Ramon bicker in Spanish during sex is pretty hot, too. Overall, I was pleased with and recommend this film for couples and those tired of the constant in your face POV pounding.

Amity Island Harbor Master Frank Silva says, "If ye ever send me a skin flick without warning again I'll use ye fer CHUM. Me wifey opened this thinking ye sent vacation videos. Luckily I keep smellin' salts in the cabin because mother faints often."

The Mick Blue Proviso

2010-07-18T22:28:00.000-07:00

Here's a little tidbit I discovered while doing "research" for upcoming XXX Turzman Critiques that I wanted to share because as I've said all along...
I want to educate as well as entertain.

The Mick Blue Proviso (n): A porno industry union stipulation that requires a producer to increase the rate of pay by 75% to an actress expected to perform in a sex scene with Mick Blue:

It also stipulates that the producer must provide trained, professional crisis counseling to said actress afterward, if necessary.

That is one very, creepy-looking individual.

Of course, I kid Mr. Blue. I have the highest respect (and a certain degree of jealousy) for men who do what he does for a living. I only post this nugget as a precursor for this week's Pornographic Midnight Snack at Turzman Central.
I have in fact watched two titles from Digital Playground with the hopes that they would meet the requirements I set for myself when picking titles for this forum. To my dismay, neither Babysitters nor Nurses quite fit the bill, storywise. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, except that I expected some PRON to have a plot. But I did not give up...

Over the course of this past weekend, I came across two discs that were acceptable. Next time Turzman Dot Com gets a new post, I will opine on Vivid's Strictly Conversation, starring Meggan Malone. After that, I'll pen a critique for No Love Lost, Digital Playground's first starring vehicle for Raven Alexis.

As to the mainstream stuff, I just finished collecting screencaps for Them! (1954) and The Valley of Gwangi (1969), two films that helped define me when I was a kid.

Your patience for me has been much appreciated. I know I should have posted something new before now, but I was feeling silly about the whole thing after receiving not a one comment for the PMS's first installment. Now I realize, I don't care about comments, which is probably why I decided to critique PRON in the first place.

Stay well and Stay Out of the Water.

Flim Critique- "The Mummy's Kiss: Second Dynasty"

2010-07-11T03:46:00.000-07:00

Another blast from the past as I regurgitate a critique based on a film I saw after paneling a radio show where we were briefly sidetracked to softcore pron.
I'm not sure if that little blurb was as informative as intended, but who cares, really.
Also, please forgive the lack of screencaps. I went to all my sources and there were none to be found! My apologies.
So, I present to you, my intrepid readers, from KarmaCritic circa May 2008---

The Mummy's Kiss: Second Dynasty (2006)
starring: Kylie Wyote, Christine Nguyen, Stacy Burke
written and directed by Donald F. Glut

Not too long ago, one of our Karma-discussions quickly glazed over porn and its storyline deficiencies. It was a topic as quickly forgotten as it was talked about, and we moved on. Then, it was as if fate had intervened, for I stumbled across Mummy's Kiss: 2nd Dynasty. As I sat in bed, lube in hand, a revelation occurred; this erotic lez-fest had a pretty tight story going for it. So strong was the story, that I almost lost my wood as I was riveted by the plot (!). I said almost...

Donald F. Glut's follow-up to his mildly successful (by erotica standards) Mummy's Kiss (2003) offers top-billing to Kylie Wyote (aka Belinda Gavin, a personal fave) over Playboy playmate Christine Nguyen. The rest of the cast is a mish-mash of erotica's standard supporting players; Stacy Burke, Andrea Smith, Cindy Pucci, Alisa Robinson, Lorielle New and the Starr twins, Taylor and Tyler.

Our villain is eeeeeviiiiiil museum curator, Dr. Zita Furneaux (Wyote) who's getting ready to unveil the museum's latest exhibit, a mummy (hence the film's title). Nguyen plays investigative tabloid reporter Elyse Lam, on assignment to cover the museum's newest resident, but suspects something is fishy. It turns out her nose for news is on target, as eeeeeviiiiil Dr. Furneaux has discovered the secret to eternal youth, with some help from long dead Egyptian goddess, Neffer-Titty (Burke). I'm sure I'm mis-spelling that, as the name is almost unpronounceable, even by those with script in hand, not to mention difficult to spell. So for our purposes, let's call her Neffer-Titty.

Neffer-Titty confides in Dr. Furneaux that if she obtain people's "tam," (or life-spirit, I guess) she will reverse the aging process, which is just what the doctor ordered for eeeeviiiil Dr. Furneaux, as she finds herself smack-dab in the middle of a mid-life crisis. Neffer-Titty grants her the power to control the now revived mummy by way of a sacred amulet (you just knew there would be an amulet eventually in this flick). So the mummy goes out to kidnap young ladies, bring them to the museum, where Furneaux takes their tam through lesbian sex. (yay!) But eeeeviiiil Dr. Furneaux gets power-drunk and a bit too big for her own britches as she starts to see herself as a goddess. This doesn't sit well with Neffer-Titty, as she is a goddess who doesn't like to share the spotlight.

Meanwhile, Lam's investigation of the missing girls leads her to the museum, where she's caught by the mummy and engages in a four-way lesbian orgy with Furneaux's freshly-squeezed, tam-free handmaidens as the good doctor looks on. Pretty riveting stuff, no? Well hold on a sec...

After all, this is softcore porn and the script isn't exactly perfect, maybe not as strong as I'm building it up to be. Where Glut's script is strong in story and to a degree, even conveyance, his dialogue is surprisingly shoddy. Not surprising for a skinflick, but considering how good the story is, it seems odd that Glut would suddenly turn lazy when it came to speeches. I mean, Nguyen's Lam says and does things we all know an investigative reporter wouldn't say or do, and a lot of it doesn't really help the story as plot points. In fact, Nguyen's character really does nothing to resolve the conflict. She's just there as a topless Playboy playmate, and even though she does light a small fire under Furneaux's ass (to add a little tension, I suppose) eeeviiil Dr. Furneaux gets her come-uppins by way of a vengeful Neffer-Titty and the mummy as a recently tam-relieved Nguyen lies comatose on an altar.

Oh well, so it's not all roses. But now, some more good stuff.

The special effects are way cool. The mummy makeup is effectively creepy in night shots, and in light, it's not goofy at all. Very nice. And, Furneaux's transformations from old to young as she acquires more tam is very well done. In a nutshell, there's nothing cheesy at all about the fx, so visually speaking, this film is much better than the average softcore erotica.

As for performances, Wyote is a bit over-the-top for my taste, even as a villianess. And as I said before, Nguyen is just sort of there as eye-candy, but she delivers her weak dialogue about as well as can be expected with bad material. Neffer-Titty and the handmaidens are portrayed no different than you would expect in a film like this; topless and monotone, but not bad enough to ruin the film as a whole.

So I guess I recommend this film. Even if softcore isn't your cup of tea, rent this film, grab your significant other (or a bottle of lube) and have a little fun.

Internet addict Pornocat says, "She engages in a four-way lesbian orgy and you don't have screencaps?!? Mother-MEOWer!"

Guardian of the Universe Gamera says, "So are you going to just phone in your reviews from now on, Turz?"

XXX Film Critique- "Haunted"

2010-06-21T19:14:00.000-07:00

For this first installment of your brand new, Pornographic Midnight Snack, I critique a film featuring a personal fave from the annals (tee hee) of PRON, Briana Banks. Why is she a personal fave? One need only watch her lone scene in today's morsel to understand why, for it is the only scene worth watching in this otherwise lackluster Jerome Tanner film from Legend.

Haunted (2001)
starring: Briana Banks, Claudia Adkins, Meriesa Arroyo, Evan Stone, Toni James, Bobby Vitale & Friday.
written by: are you kidding me???
directed by: Jerome Tanner

Amateur ghost hunter Briana Banks (before ghost hunting was trending on SciFi channel and the like) is convinced a certain house is haunted. She gathers three of her friends (Friday, Mariesa Arroyo, Dillon Day) to prove it to them.

Meet your team, folks. No hi-tech equipment, no green van, no talking dog. Just this.

We the viewers already know said house is haunted, thanks to an otherwise completely unrelated sex scene during the opening titles. Hunky apparition Mark Wood materializes for a romp with pre-bath Claudia Adkins. After pop, the only remaining ghostly evidence is a love letter written on the mirror in lipstick.

"Oh no! Did we forget to bring wine and ouija?"

But rather than set up infrared cameras and super-sensitive sound recording equipment, they sit around and drink while Briana delivers the minimum descriptive exposition required for a film to be considered "story based." There's no back story about the spooks residing there nor is there anything particularly special about the house. Indeed, glaringly absent is the "why is the house haunted" scenario, and how does Briana know for sure in the first place? Her message, in even simpler terms than delivered in the film, is "this house is haunted and if we hang out long enough we'll see ghosts." That's it.

"Nope. Wine and ouija, check!" *whew!*

Our brave gang soon come to realize that it's not chanting, burning candles or ouija boards that attract ghosts, but rather hot sex that does. Friday passes out drunk and is left alone to sleep it off. Mysteriously, her nighty slowly slips off, by itself! (booga-booga! effective PRONfx, lol). And then she has sex with a ghost (Evan Stone).

Let's just call this foreshadowing.

After pop, Friday runs downstairs to tell everyone what happened (still naked, of course). Hysterical, Friday runs out of the room. Intrigued, Briana and Day follow her. (They wanted to get a jump on analyzing the ectoplasm, I'm sure). Horny, Arroyo stays behind and starts playing with herself. Which, of course attracts another ghost (Lee Stone) and they have sex.
Day being the odd man out (both literally and figuratively) is concerned that he's the only one not getting laid by ghosts in this place and goes outside to ponder this with a cigarette. Enter the ghost played by Toni James and the stage is set for their sex scene.

The hostess with the mostest ghostests.

We finally get to Briana's lone sex scene in the film and believe me, it's worth the wait. Encircled by the lit candles, she performs one of the hottest solo acts in my memory, and when her otherworldly partner (Bobby Vitale) shows up, the scene loses no intensity. It is by far, the best part of the film and explains why, in part, Ms. Banks was one of the more popular porn stars when she was in her prime.
The other four scenes are not only more tame than the finale, but they are so much more uninspired. Director Jerome Tanner's lack of imagination is so blatant because each scene is formulaic and can be carbon copies of all the others. They follow the same pattern; solo act, bj, vaginal, anal, vaginal from behind and then pop. Banks' scene does this as well, but she delivers a more intense performance without going over the top. This shows that, when left to her own devices, Briana Banks deserved to be amongst the elite of the A-Listers of her day.

"Hell yes! We should do this again next week AND invite more friends!"

What would I have done differently? For starters I would have added more variety to the sexy stuff. But more importantly, I would have done something to make the purported haunted house look at least a little haunted. Again, Tanner's lack of imagination is on display as our setting looks exactly like what it is; any one of a hundred Hollywood area homes owned by whichever porn producer is on vacation that week, renting it out to another porn producer shooting a porn film in it. With only the slightest effort (a cobweb here, a black cat there accompanied by a spooky soundtrack) we the viewers could at least infer the house is haunted, thus making the dialogue unnecessary and freeing up some minutes for a shorter run time or an extra sex scene.
That's what I would have done.

If real-life ghost hunters looked like this, they'd get better results.

Coming up on the PRON front, Digital Playground's Babysitters with Jesse Jane.
Still to be rescued from Operation Orca are critiques for Dark Star and Mummy's Kiss: 2nd Dynasty.
And down the line, brand new Turzman Critiques for Abominable (2006) and The Valley of Gwangi (1969).

Internet addict Pornocat says, "Where are all the NSFW screencaps?"

Tales from the PRON Store, Part III

2010-06-17T18:53:00.000-07:00

As a prelude to my upcoming Pornographic Midnight Snack cinema critique series, I offer this episode of Tales from the PRON Store that deals with the topic of Hypocrisy.

A man walks into the store today and announces to me (a captive audience of ONE, by the way) that places like this (meaning the PRON store) make him sick.
"Why?" I ask him, feigning interest.

He says, "Because people who are addicted to PRON make me sick." Without skipping a beat, he then asks me if he can use the restroom.
"Are you sure it's clean enough?" I said with a grin meant to imply sarcasm. He grinned back and started doing the Pee-Pee dance, indicating it was an emergency. I gave him the key, stating that I shouldn't because our restroom is for paying customers, only. He assured me that he would buy something, and I assured him he better damn well buy something.

After tinkling, he starts lecturing again about how he usually stays away from places that sell PRON because he can get addicted to it. This is when I asked the Rev if he was done preaching and would buy something. (Obviously, I have no sympathy for his pending addiction). After all that, this dickless hypocrite proceeded to buy the following items...

Not one, but two inflatable sheep blow up love dolls, a bondage kit for beginners, fuzzy handcuffs, a riding crop and a leather mask (the kind you see in fetish videos). The final tally was $156.78, a portion of which goes to my commission, and no, I don't feel guilty, contributing to his addiction. Hey, it's not like I sold him drugs or alcohol.

But I do hope he overdoses and dies while handcuffed to an inflatable sheep, wearing a leather fetish mask.

Guardian of the Universe Gamera says, "You should have burnt him with your fire breath and toppled him like a Tokyo high-rise."

Announcement- Coming Soon.

2010-06-10T21:52:00.000-07:00

I've had this plan brewing in my head lately. I've also been putting it off. Not long ago, I asked my readers to challenge me with critique requests. You give me a flick, I hunt it down, view and critique it. Free of charge. I only received one Reader Request, so I figure that means I can pretty much pick whatever I wanna review. So I'm gonna run with my plan.

Coming soon to Turzman Central, a sub-category I shall fondly refer to as, your Pornographic Midnight Snack. I see no harm in, every once in a while, critiquing a film of the XXX variety. At worst, it's an admission to all of you that I watch PRON. Go circle the wagons.
Hell, I already touched softcore here, and to a degree, here. I currently find myself in a position of unlimited supply of opinion fodder, so I'm gonna turn up the heat a bit.
Rather than bog myself down with the seemingly infinite number of compilation, sex-only discs and Gonzo P.O.V. shootings, I will limit myself to films that at least attempt to have a story. The Pickens don't get as slim as you think.

Already in the bank, Haunted starring Briana Banks, and Digital Playground's Babysitters.

So stay tuned,
and as always,

Stay out of the water.

No more eating shark fin in Hawaii after new law

2010-05-30T14:13:00.000-07:00

By AUDREY McAVOY, Associated Press Writer Audrey Mcavoy, Associated Press Writer – Sat May 29, 4:34 pm ET

HONOLULU – The $48-a-plate shark fin has been a favorite dish to celebrate 80th birthdays and fete out of town VIPs since Vienna Hou's Chinese restaurant opened 25 years ago.

But Kirin Restaurant customers won't be dining in that style starting July 1, 2011, when Hawaii becomes the first state in the nation to ban the possession of shark fins. The state is attempting to help prevent the overfishing and extinction of sharks around the world.

"Something will be missing," said Hou, who grew up watching her father sell shark fin as part of his seafood trading business in Hong Kong. "Decent Chinese restaurants — they all serve shark fin."

Gov. Linda Lingle on Friday signed a bill prohibiting the possession, sale or distribution of shark fins. The bill passed the state House and Senate with broad support earlier this year.

The legislation generated some grumbling in Hawaii's sizable Chinese community — more than 13 percent of the state population is Chinese or part Chinese. Many consider shark fin a delicacy and important part of Chinese culture.

The ban also comes as the tourism-dependent state expects a surge in affluent Chinese visitors.

Restaurateurs say about a dozen establishments in Hawaii serve shark fin, which doesn't taste like much by itself. The flavor in shark fin dishes comes from the ingredients it's cooked with, either the rich sauce it's served with on a plate or the savory pork and chicken base in shark fin soup.

Some people eat it for the supposed health benefits, claiming that it's good for bones, kidneys and lungs and helps treat cancer. Shark fin is also considered a status symbol in high-end restaurants, a dish to impress or lavishly treat guests. At Kirin, on a busy street near the University of Hawaii, one soup serving is $17.

In Hong Kong, high end restaurants can charge $1,000 for premium shark fin.

"I don't think you should say it should be illegal to have shark fin," said Johnson Choi, president of the Hong Kong China Hawaii Chamber of Commerce. "Shark fins are part of food culture — Chinese have had food culture for over 5,000 years."

Environmentalists say the tradition is leading to a dangerous depletion of sharks worldwide.

A report last year by the International Union for the Conservation of Nature estimates 32 percent of open ocean shark species are in danger of becoming extinct primarily because of overfishing.

Hawaii's lawmakers heard testimony that sharks are being killed for their fins at a rate of 89 million per year.

"It's not a local issue. It's an international issue," said Sen. Clayton Hee, D-Kahuku-Kaneohe, the sponsor of the Hawaii bill.

Restaurants serving fins will have until next July to run through their inventory. After that, those caught with fin will have to pay a fine between $5,000 to $15,000 for a first offense. A third offense would result in a fine between $35,000 to $50,000 and up to a year in prison.

It's designed to go a step further than the previous law which aimed to control shark finning — the act of cutting fins off sharks at sea and dumping their carcasses in the ocean — by banning the landing of shark fins at Hawaii ports.

Shark conservation activists say they hope the law inspires other states and the federal government to follow suit.

"This is a landmark bill," said Marie Levine, the founder and executive director of the Shark Research Institute in Princeton, N.J. "This is enormously important for the conservation of sharks."

Conservation efforts suffered a major setback earlier this year when an effort to protect six shark species under the 175-nation Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species, or CITES, failed in March.

Hee, who is of Chinese and Native Hawaiian descent, rejected the argument that shark fins shouldn't be banned because they're an important part of Chinese culture. He argued the food is only eaten by an elite few at Chinese restaurants.

"It's a tradition of serving shark fin to those who could most afford it. It's an indulgent activity," Hee said.

In contrast, he noted sharks are deeply ingrained in Hawaiian culture as ancestral gods, or aumakua, and are featured prominently in ancient legends.

The law's power may be primarily symbolic given Hawaii is a small market for shark fin, especially compared to Hong Kong. The IUCN estimates Hong Kong handles at least 50 percent and perhaps 80 percent of the world's shark fin trade.

Some restaurant managers — both inside and outside of the tourist mecca of Waikiki — said their biggest eaters of shark fin are Japanese tourists who like to order the dish because it's three to four times cheaper here than back home.

"I doubt it very much that people will be very disappointed," said David Chui, manager of Legends Seafood Restaurant.

Carroll Cox, president of the Hawaii-based group EnviroWatch, hopes the governor makes enforcement a high priority. Other countries will also have to commit to limit the shark fin trade for any restrictions to have an effect, he said.

"People learn to circumvent the law, especially when you have a product that's expensive and in demand," said Cox.

Bookoff = Ripoff

2010-05-21T19:10:00.000-07:00

So the only used book store I found on my island with a buy/sell/trade policy is this joint called Bookoff Hawaii. They have two convenient locations in Oahu's two biggest malls. I'm looking to trade off some old Alex Cross, Jack Reacher, Star Wars and misc novels for some new Alex Cross, Jack Reacher and Eve Dallas novels, so I took a stack over there today.
Nine books in great condition, two of which were purchased brand new only two weeks ago, and they only offered me $1.60 for them.
Nine books, a dollar sixty.
So they can turn around and sell them for 5 bucks apiece.

I told Bookoff to Fuckoff.

If I'm gonna give my shit away, I'll donate my books to my local library in Waipahu, because I know for certain they will not turn around and mark them up 450% from what they paid for them.

So that's the plan, I will become great friends with my local library and donate my new books, fresh off Border's shelf and read only once, and feel great about the transaction despite getting nothing in return.
Imagine- giving stuff away for nothing in return and feeling good about it. Libraries are cool.

Tonoose, envoy to the Blind Dead says, "Reading books is a concept that is both barren and foreign to me. Of course, I am blind, which explains why quite clearly. It also explains why I don't care too much for movies, TV or the Internet. Why I hate radio still baffles me."

Film Critique- "Bare Naked Survivor"

2010-05-17T19:31:00.000-07:00

Oh, why the hell not? I got another one like this coming soon...

Retrieved from the now defunct KarmaCritic by way of Operation Orca.
From almost 2 years ago to the day...

Bare Naked Survivor, (2001)
starring: Julie K. Smith, Shauna O'Brien, Alexus Winston, Aimee Sweet, Aria Giovanni, Tess Broussard, Lenny Juliano and Allen Glazier as "Ape."
written by: Jimmy Diblanket
directed by: Doug Hoffman

No food, no men, NO CLOTHES. What a tagline, eh? Well, it served its purpose in my case, offering two tantalizing things; a parody of something I absolutely hate (reality TV), and beautiful, naked women. In a testament to how lame I am, I learned that I expected too much from something that offered so little; Penthouse pets on an island. To my chagrin, I found that I've become so "mature," that a film needs more than just t*ts on a beach to hold my interest. How depressing.

In my defense, Bare Naked Survivor offers a veritable "who's who" from softcore porn and Penthouse pages. Softcore legends Julie K. Smith and Shauna O'Brien head the cast that includes the super-sexy Alexus Winston, Aimee Sweet (whom I adore), Aria Giovanni (who I have lusted after for about six years now) and the surprisingly butter-faced Tess Broussard, who I had never heard of before, and with good reason. Who would have thought that t*ts like those could be overshadowed by such an ugly face? Rounding out our merry cast is Lenny Juliano as Cliff Probate, the doofus in charge of the whole contest thing.

Oh yeah, there's a contest.

Our next challenge is to take off our clothes and frolic on a beach. Again.

In the retarded spirit of Survivor, the girls are supposed to do moronic tasks for points, and of course, there is voting out of the tribe, but the "plot" (HA!) is so mundane and the tasks are so idiotic that the viewer can't help but hope there is an active volcano, a giant gorilla, cannibalistic natives, malaria; something that will just kill these f**kers off. But that never happens. Instead, we are given ample titties, upon which the viewer says, "Hey look, t*ts." But they are hardly a saving grace.

This film is hardly what one might call "erotic cinema." So weak compared to other softcore films, Bare Naked Survivor barely rates the hard "R", and dangerously toes the PG-13 line. The best part is a scene where Aimee Sweet strips of her panties, graciously and mercifully showing her bush as she's engaged in conversation with Winston. Yes, conversation. About lipstick. The film's promise of lesbian scenes are reduced to some watered down, soft petting and kissing, which after so many times becomes, in a word, unsexy. Nobody thought to bring dildos to the island, I guess.
Oh bother...

The only guy on an island full of women and he has to beg.

I cannot recommend this film at all. Unless you are a hopeless, infatuated fanatic of one of the girls, there's nothing here for you. To summarize, I'd like to quote Gray, where he so eloquently states, "What's the big deal? It's just a pair of t*ts."

And how, brother.

Amity Island Harbor Master Frank Silva says, "What the hell is this crap I just read? The movie was nuthin' but skin 'n' bone womans in their beach underwears. And, ye already posted this once before. Can't ye come up with somethin' new, or are ye gonna post that old one about lesbians with the mummy? You stink, Turz."

Internet addict Pornocat says, "Lesbians? Mummies? Meow for me?"

Film Critique- "Tropic Thunder"

2010-05-15T14:09:00.000-07:00

Ripped from the archives at Operation Orca circa August, 2008...

Tropic Thunder (2008)
starring: Ben Stiller, Robert Downey, Jr, Jack Black, Nick Nolte, Jay Baruchel, Brandon T. Jackson, Steve Coogan, Danny McBride
written by: Ben Stiller, Justin Theroux, Ethan Cohen
directed by: Ben Stiller

Ben Stiller hits the cinematic trifecta as co-writer, co-producer, director and star of Tropic Thunder; a film that is laugh out loud funny, creative, beautifully shot and features perhaps the most impressive supporting cast in recent memory. It's not as star-laden as say, It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World (not even close), but the performances are memorable. Combine that with a plethora of hilarious one-liners, and Tropic Thunder delivers an instant classic. That's huge praise considering I'm not as easy to please at the movie-going experience as most people.

Ben Stiller may be a great writer, director and actor, but he SUCKS as a caterer.

The film opens with three mock trailers introducing our main players (Stiller, Jack Black and Robert Downey, Jr.). They are, respectively, the hottest action star, comedy star and Oscar-winner in Hollywood, and they're teaming up to shoot Tropic Thunder, the most realistic, big budgeted, blow em up war flick, ever. On location in Viet Nam, the production is a mess as the crew face problem after problem, and the chemistry between these superb thespians, in a manner of speaking, just ain't there.

A Dirty Dozen, minus six, plus two bars of soap, divided by a six-pack of Booty Sweat equals "Tropic Thunder."

The director (Steve Coogan) is taking the brunt of the blame from the executive producer (Tom Cruise. Yes, the Tom Cruise. Who is, for the first time in my opinion, absolutely brilliant!) So the director, under advice from the author of the book that inspired this film (Nick Nolte!) decides that dropping his cast into authentic harm's way will produce the chemistry he needs. Stupid? Yes. Would that really happen? No f*cking way. But luckily for us, it happens here, for what follows is a string of hilarious mayhem and calamity that never grows tiresome.

I will NOT sing "Mammy." Don't ask me again.

The mix of Stiller, Black and Downey, Jr. is effectively divided up, as each are able to showcase their particular talents evenly and effectively. Jack Black is the standard Jack Black, raised to the power of ten, rather than diluted as he was in Nacho Libre. Robert Downey, Jr. could not have hoped for a better follow-up to Iron Man, as he has done the equivalent of hitting two grand slam home runs in a row. Of course, there's Stiller who proves he can be brilliant both behind and in front of the camera, and Thunder is a refreshing break from his recent string of turds (ie: The Heartbreak Kid, Night at the Museum).

Happy Tet! Today is Tet, right?

The trio is directly supported by Jay Baruchel and Brandon T. Jackson (as the other actors in this movie within a movie), Danny McBride (as the special fx guy) and Steve Coogan as the film's director. Throw in the support of Cruise, Nolte and Matthew McConaughy, and pepper in cameos from Tyra Banks, Jon Voight, Tobey Mcguire and others of their ilk, and you've got yourself one pretty enjoyable film.

Don't wait to rent this. Tropic Thunder should be experienced on the big screen. We, as audience members, owe the price of admission to a film that truly entertains at this level.

Consider the suggestion that Tobey McGuire and Robert Downey, Jr. play a pair of homosexual monks that use the rosary as anal beads in a film entitled Satan's Alley.

'Nuff said.

Guardian of the Universe Gamera says, "I auditioned for the role Tom Cruise plays, but they told me I didn't look 'Jewish enough.' Well neither did Tom Cruise before all that makeup!"

Film Critique- "The Whole Nine Yards"

2010-05-06T20:38:00.000-07:00

Ripped from the archives at Operation Orca circa May, 2008, a film that features Matthew Perry in a role that doesn't make you want to strangle the breath from his putrid lungs.

The Whole Nine Yards (2000)
starring: Bruce Willis, Matthew Perry, Natasha Henstridge, Michael Clarke Duncan, Kevin Pollack, Rosanna Arquette, Amanda Peet
written by: Mitchell Kapner
directed by: Jonathan Lynn

Matthew Perry made his mark on this biz as TV's Chandler Bing on Friends. In every subsequent role in his career since then, Perry has played no-one but Chandler. The smarmy, neurotic, nervous and timid characterization he carried into motion pictures was very annoying long before Friends finished its prime-time run and it proved that Perry, as an actor, is about as one-dimensional as the rest of the Friends cast. Of course, this proved to be detrimental to Perry's endeavors as a leading man. In a nutshell, he sucks. He does nothing different in The Whole Nine Yards. But the film shows us that, under the right circumstances, surrounded by true talent and subject to clever writing, even a hack like Matthew Perry can shine and deliver.

Do you think Mr. Willis will give us an autograph?

Perry's Chandler Bing is disguised as Nicholas "Oz" Oseransky, an American dentist living in misery in Montreal with his strumpet of a wife (Rosanna Arquette). His hum-drum life is turned topsey-turvey when he gets a new next door neighbor, Jimmy "The Tulip" Tudeski (Bruce Willis), a former hit man for the mob turned federal informant. What follows is a string of hilarious events that play directly (and perfectly) into the incapable hands of Perry's limited acting ability.

No you can't have my fu*king autograph.

Oz is so far removed from his element and subjegated to things and people so foreign to him, that the quirky, neurotic nervousness that Perry can only play is a perfect fit and compliments the rest of the cast to a tee. The chemistry between the characters is on target, and stems directly from Perry; a tremendous feat considering the impressive, all-star cast the film boasts.

Surely Bruce will give ME, Kevin Pollack an autograph.

Besides Willis and Arquette, there's Kevin Pollack, fantastic as Yanni Gogolak, Michael Clarke Duncan as Frankie (whose interactions with Oz are, in a word, golden), Natasha Henstridge as Oz's love interest once his bitch of a wife is out of the picture, Harland Williams in what is, I think, his most serious role (and he's still frigging hilarious), and the formerly over-hyped and way too over-rated Amanda Peet; the film's sole weak link. But where she lacks in acting talent, she more than makes up for with some extended scenes of her bare breasts. Sorry, fans of the Peet, but that's all she's got going here and that's all she's able to deliver.

I don't have it! He wouldn't give me an autograph, I swear to God!

Otherwise, this film is a gem. Rent it, purchase it, enjoy it. If you've already seen it, see it again. It's one of those films that never gets dull.

Why doesn't anybody want MY autograph?

COMING SOON TO TURZMAN DOT COM-
My "Stay Out of the Water" film critique series gets an extension by way of Reader Request and I'll sink my teeth into Deep Blue Sea shortly.
And still to come, the survivors of the wreckage known as earlier Turzman Critiques from Operation Orca and the now defunct but sorely missed KarmaCritic.

Amity Island Harbor Master Frank Silva says, "Finally, Turz will review a movie with some sort of seafood featured in it. I have to say, the review for Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus sucked as bad as the movie did."

Film Critique- "Deep Blue Sea"

2010-05-04T20:42:00.000-07:00

Q- What does an 8000 pound Mako shark with a brain the size of a Flathead V8 engine and no natural predators think about?

A- the...

Deep Blue Sea (1999)
starring: Saffron Burrows, Thomas Jane, Samuel L. Jackson, Stellan Skarsgard, Michael Rapaport, Jaqueline McKenzie, LL Cool J, Aida Turturro
written by: Duncan Kennedy, Donna Powers & Wayne Powers
directed by: Renny Harlin

Two couples on a large Catamaran are pleasure sailing at night, looking for a little nookie from each other when their craft is attacked by a Mako shark, wrecking the hull and knocking all 4 people into the water. Just when a pretty blond lass is about to experience first hand the Great Chomping, the shark's actions are thwarted via harpoon by Shark Wrangler, Carter Blake (Thomas Jane). Early next morning, Dr. Susan McCallister (Saffron Burrows) is en route to an ass-chewing at Chimera Pharmaceuticals about the escape of one of their "test sharks." Russell Franklin (Samuel L. Jackson) threatens to pull his funding for the Alzheimer's research unless the doctor can pull a rabbit from her butt, which she promises.

Everyone repeat after me, "I'm sick of these mutha-fu*kin' sharks on this mutha-fu*kin'..." wait, where are we?

Franklin and the doctor fly to Aquatica, a floating research facility dedicated to the research and home to three super bad-ass Mako sharks. Against better judgment, but without other options, the doctor and her staff bypass months of safeguard testing and attempt to remove, from a shark brain, a protein that can conceivably cure Alzheimer's Disease. The test is a success, with Moneybags Franklin as a witness, so the research team figure they have a monetary stay of execution. But unbeknownst to them, the super bad-ass Mako sharks have something very sinister planned...

It seems my "Stay Out of the Water" film critique series has been given an extension, as Deep Blue Sea is the first "reader's choice" selection here at Turzman Central, and what a choice it is. One of my faves, DBS is one of those rare and precious jewels of a film that has sharks, a plausible story and an all-around lack of suckiness. Where Jaws sits all alone atop the heap of Shark movies, Deep Blue Sea is in equal solitude as the genre's current silver medal.

For the love of Neptune, DO NOT CALL ME BRUCE!

Responses to this film were a mixed bag of bad and good, the good tending to focus mainly on the mega-awesome visual FX (more on that later). The critics were prone to bad mouth what they thought was bogus science backing the fiction. Normally this doesn't bother me, as I am always happy to see something story-driven over stuff exploding onscreen every five minutes, and I'm usually first to call "Shenanigans" when I see BS onscreen. But we live in an age where people are willing to believe that giant robots from outer space transform into cars and talk to people. Or that furry-footed midgets need to spend three long-ass movies walking all over Allah's creation to drop a ring in a lake of fire. Or that Keeanu Reeves is Jesus Christ in a computer generated facade in front of a never ending battle between people and machines. My point is, DBS is a film that goes out of its way to back up the science behind the fiction and their ideas come from real life scientists performing real life research on sharks.

Here we have a textbook example of "The Great Chomping," present in all Shark movies.

It's no secret that, with just one exception that I am aware of*, sharks are not prone to any diseases and therefore have been dissected by anyone in a white coat, searching for the cure to something. Usually it's cancer, sometimes (as is the case in DBS) it's Alzheimer's. The film makes the point of connecting Dr. McCallister to Alzheimer's for just a hint of sub plot to explain why she blatantly broke the rules and endangered the other characters (something NOT done through exposition, which is not nearly as easy as you may think). So the science backing the story proper is fundamentally strong and is supported fictionally through the personal tragedy of Dr. McCallister.

It's funny, you looked A LOT bigger just a second ago.

So what rules, exactly did the doctor break to justify her ends? It's what explains the film's tagline, "Bigger, Smarter, Meaner, Faster" and is the other point of ire for the nay-sayers so quick to degrade DBS. The short answer is, genetic tampering. Oooooh, that nefarious staple of exploitation cinema, specifically in creature features that dared to toe the "You should not play God moral of the story" line. But again, DBS makes a conscience effort to connect A to B. The shark's brain did not process enough of the protein viable enough to get wanted results, so the doctor increased the brain size in an effort to get more of the protein. "As a side effect, the sharks got smarter," she explains, and the sharks, now smarter than they were previously, realize they want OUT of their cages and set into a motion a plan to do just that. Hence, the question posed at the beginning of this post and by Franklin once he realizes what the doctor had done.
Not only does this plot point explain both the doctor's motives and the new bad-assery of the sharks, but it puts Saffron Burrows in the very unique position of playing a character that is both protagonist AND eeeeeviiiiiil scientist in the same script. That's right, this story is all about Dr. McCallister and no one else, really, but it is very cleverly masked by the chaos caused by the sharks and the action that ensues from it. You can thank director Renny Harlin, his FX team and his post production editors for that.

Can a brother get a Sham-Wow?

The logical lapses present in DBS are so minute compared to what Hollywood usually demands us to believe. But the fact is, they are here, and they're not so subtle. And I can see how this little stuff can ruin a film for somebody, as one particular "brain-fart" in DBS almost ruined it for me. The concept of a "shark wrangler" as depicted by Thomas Jane in DBS is, in a word, absurd. He has absolutely no qualifications, educationally to do the work he was hired to do by Chimera, as far as properly handling and studying sharks. He is more of a game warden, ala Muldoon from the first Jurassic Park, which means his only qualification was he was the only one with balls enough to get in the water with super bad-ass sharks. And his ability to outmaneuver a shark coming after him?! Just ridiculous writing we can only chalk up as Hero's Death Battle Exemption, because there is no way, in the real world, can a man outswim a shark.
Sorry, it can't happen. But just write it off as "Hollywood Logic" and the pill goes down much easier.

When will people realize, it's much safer to STAY OUT OF THE WATER?

The only other real problem the film has, and it's been said before, is the way the sharks change size to fit whatever specific set piece they find themselves in. Although only one shark is too big to fit inside the lab, (it was mentioned as being in the ballpark of 45 feet long) the other two sharks spend most of their time inside the confines of the now flooded hallways, (which were claustrophobic before they were flooded) and can move around quite easily. But when swimming next to the bigger one in open water, they are obviously of considerable size, much bigger than purported when they are chasing down our cannon fodder inside Aquatica. I guess this particular lapse is just an offshoot to the rule of Offscreen Teleportation, but it is only a sniff away from inexcusable, in my opinion.

I have to say it. I HAVE to... "Smile, you son of a..."

One final deficiency to mention- the battle between LL Cool J and the shark in the kitchen is just... dumb. I mean, VERY, VERY dumb. I'll say this, never mind the stupidity onscreen for five minutes, just think about how the shark is destroyed; the next time you come across a Zippo lighter, dunk it under water and see if it lights up. Nuff said.

Now, the good stuff:

The visual FX in Deep Blue Sea are a very effective mix of computer enhancement and puppet work. The same formula Stan Winston used in Jurassic Park shines and delivers here. And dammit, those puppets are eerily close to what a Mako shark looks like.
Here's a tangent for my fellow shark freaks- the shark that was supposed to be a Tiger shark, was actually one of the Mako models painted with stripes to look like a Tiger. I mention this because the heads and teeth of Makos are not anything like those of a Tiger, but in the film they are identical. I digress.

The acting is great when you consider not too much was asked from each individual. DBS boasts an impressive smattering of B level, support grade, recognizable faces, and none of the characters are over-developed to the point of over-shadowing anyone else. Instead, each actor is given just a little bit of wiggle room to give their characters something to make them unique, without chewing up scenery and pulling attention away from something important. Like the plot.

So the balance of Deep Blue Sea is weighed out perfectly. In the few spots where it lacks logic and reason, it more than makes up for it somewhere else via fine acting, great FX and edge of your seat action. DBS is not a blatant ripoff of Jaws, but it's impossible to make a Shark movie without Jawsey moments, whether cognizant or not. But the DBS/Jaws parallels are very subdued here, and do not overtake the audience. Again, it's another great balance, this time between originality and the unavoidable similarities.

And one more thing I should mention, a very important point that makes DBS superior to almost every Creature Feature, it has no children in it, as a lame duck attempt to add more tension to an already tense situation. Many strong Kudos to the writers for remembering to leave the kids at home.

* Footnote-
the only example of disease in sharks that I can think of is the odd, deforming curvature in the "spine" of the Sand tiger shark...

As seen here, over time, the back of the Sand Tiger curves, and the once streamlined body develops this awkward and unnatural "hump" in front of the first dorsal fin. Based on aquarium observation, this malady appears to be quite painful and there's no known cure. It doesn't happen to every specimen, but it does appear to be species-specific to only the Sand Tiger. Despite all we know, we know nothing.

Much thanks to reader Steve for the suggestion. I hope more of you challenge me in the future to critique a piece of Hollywood you want to see reviewed. There's always room for comments and I'm always up for Movie Night. If there's a film you want my opinion on, just holla.

In the meantime, stay well and of course,

Stay out of the water.

Internet addict Pornocat says, "Agreed, the absence of children was a strong, positive point for DBS, but what made it great was when the shark swallowed LL Cool J's pet parrot. I say good riddance. I hated that stupid bird."

Tales from the PRON Store, Part II (safe, no pix)

2010-05-02T20:50:00.000-07:00

Q- What happens when three blind people, who have never been in a PRON store before come into one with a bunch of questions about sex toys?

A- My job gets a whole lot FUNNER.

For proof one need to only live my life today, for three sightless potentates (armed with canes and dark glasses, no less) mistakenly wandered into the store this afternoon asking, "What kind of store are we in?" When informed about the wares of a PRON shop, I noticed on their faces, all three, expressions of wonderment and curiosity. I told them that luckily, pornography is more than just a visual medium, and we offered more than just adult DVD's, sexy lingerie and other stuff one can only appreciate by seeing. Sex toys are geared more for physical pleasure than visual stimulus, and it was then when they said to me, (irony alert) "Show us more."

The next 20 minutes were chocked with an education-laden grope fest where I helped them stroke or feel any number of items from dildos, to vibrators, to pocket pussies culminating in, what I think I may be treating myself for an early X-Mas, now having actually felt it, the Tera Patrick Pussy & Ass. (link is nsfw).

Picture it if you can; dozens of dongs and jerk sleeves laid out on a counter, fresh from the factory wrapping. Vibrators buzzing and dancing across the surface, while all the time the store owner, my boss is watching. I later found out he was trying his hardest not to giggle his arse off. I remember thinking at the time he would be pissed, with all his unpurchased merchandise being fondled, accompanied with the sounds of "oooo's" and "aaaah's" floating throughout the store, attracting the regular members of our in-house raincoat squad out from the cracks where they hide, wondering what the hell was going on.

Before I knew it, there was an audience watching me demonstrate the usage and proper cleaning techniques of a pocket pussy to blind people.

And we hadn't even touched the topic of flavored lubes yet. But luckily, we have samples of that stuff on the ready for consumers to partake. And they did partook of all the samples we had available.

What did they buy? Not a damn thing. But they said they'd be back. (If only I had a nickel for every time I heard that). Bummer. The upside is, my boss was very impressed with the quality of my customer service. Let's hope he remembers when raise time rolls around.

The Literature Game

2010-05-02T00:44:00.000-07:00

The Literature Game-

Here's a fun way to kill a couple of minutes. But be warned, this requires a book. Any book. If you don't have a book, you probably never learned how to read and are not seeing this post anyways.

Look around, find a book. Grab the first book you see.
It doesn't matter what genre or type, fiction or non-fiction. Any book will do fine.

Open it to page 37, look at the second paragraph.
Leave a comment in my box for all to see, write the third line of the paragraph, ver batim.
(That means, "word for word").

Just the one line, don't tell us the title or author. Let's see what weird stuff you all read.

Next, copy paste and post this note wherever you post your stuff. Let's see how far this goes.

Have fun, here's mine...

"It was a Mercury Grand Marquis, metallic green, as long as an ocean liner."

Film Critique- "Hai Alarm auf Mallorca"

2010-04-29T19:50:00.000-07:00

What's German for, "Warning: Spoilers?"

Never mind.

My "Stay Out of the Water" film critique series comes to its conclusion with this nugget I found by accident via impulse shopping while at Best Buy. It's a shark movie with a killer shark on the cover. So I bought it, expecting crap. Before viewing, I found that it was originally made for German television, so I didn't know what to expect: crap or giddy goodiness. I was pleasantly surprised afterward when I found myself saying aloud to nobody in particular, "Hey, that wasn't bad at all." No, my avid readers. This film is actually pretty frigging sweeeet.

Once again, ripped from the flotsam & jetsam floating around Karmacritic and Operation Orca circa December of 2007, I give you---

Hai Alarm auf Mallorca (2004)
starring: Ralf Moeller, Julia Stinshoff, Gregor Bloeb, Katy Karrenbaur
written by: Jorg Alberts and Roland Heep
directed by: Jorgo Papavassiliou

It always baffled me; the gall that movie producers have sometimes. Specifically, those that produced Shark Movies after Jaws never gave co-writing credit to Peter Benchley or Carl Gottlieb. What baffles me further is how this trend of plagiarism continues to this day.

In the fifteen or so years since Steve Alten penned the magnificent "Meg: A Novel of Deep Terror," Hollywood took it upon themselves to "super-size" the shark genre the same way I do my french fries and gave us the likes of Shark Hunter, Shark Attack III: Megalodon, and the lazily titled, Megalodon. All of which were not so much homages as they were blatant ripoffs of Alten's "Meg," and yet he received no credit, save for the insulting "Special thanks" occasionally.

Oh, Hollywood, how much I loath thee...

Not to be outdone by Hollywood's scum, German Television Executives wanted to take a bite of their own out of the shark genre and clone one that they could call their own; much in the same fashion that the Italians did with George Romero-Zombies and the shark genre itself. (See Tintorera: The Tiger Shark and Le Ultimo Squalo if you don't believe me.)

So, in 2004, German beefcake Ralf Moeller was paired with wunderbar hottie Julia Stinshoff and audiences of Deutche TV regailed over Hai-Alarm auf Mallorca,

or, as American DVD audiences came to know it as of July 10, 2007, Shark Attack in the Mediterranean.

Now, it is entirely possible that I am the only person on an English speaking continent that has seen this film, so I take it as the highest responsibility to write this review.
There are two things that separate this motion picture from the aforementioned others; first, it has the unique distinction of being the only movie in my memory to blatantly ripoff both "Meg" and Jaws in the exact same scene, (more on that later) and second, it can be watched in its entirety without a single wave of nausea overcoming the viewer. That's right; this movie isn't really that bad.

I pulled a tooth the size of a beer stein out of the wrecked hull of a boat out there.

Not as witty as Shark Hunter, yet not as goofy as Shark Attack III and not as visually deficient as Megalodon, Mallorca, when you get passed the wafer-thin characters and sub-par acting (which may be Brando-esque for German TV for all I know), has a slightly plausible plot right in the middle of an absolutely exquisite locale (shot on location on Spanish Mallorca, one of the Balearic Islands). The characters are believable and relatable, albeit uber-beautiful, which can be expected on a Mediterranean Island, but surprisingly none come across as overly-annoying, which is usually a requisite for a film like this.

The special effects are the real star of this movie. Mallorca obviously had a bigger than usual budget for German prime time, because the FX, specifically in the action sequences look like something that would make George Lucas cream his pants and Stan Winston cringe in jealousy. (You may have seen the scenes I'm writing about for they have been on the Net for the past five years. More on that later.)

When are toothpaste commercials gonna wise-up and use stuff like this?

Our hero is Sven Hansen (Moeller), a freelance helicopter pilot en route to whatever airport this tiny island has to pick up Dr. Julia Bennet (Stinshoff), the new Marine Biologist at the Mallorcan Institute for Studying Sharks for the Purposes of Cancer Research, or whatever it's called. The name is not as important as the fact that this computer-generated, backlot-aquarium has at least a dozen or so fully-grown Great White sharks in captivity!?!? (Boy, Monterrey Bay has nothing on this place!) The largest of which has been named Hannibal by Institute Chief, Dr. Verena Brandauer (Katy Karrenbaur), the film's obligatory eeeeviiiil scientist.

Apparently, the titular beastie roaming the waters off Mallorca was cloned by the not-so-good Dr. Brandaur from a Megalodon egg she found in the Antarctic!?!? (yeah, right) And it escaped from the institute when the tank waters flooded over from a storm four years earlier!? (yeah, right, part II).

Spielberg should have hidden his shark so well.

Okay, so the suspension of belief and bogus science may be a bit much for even a Meg to swallow, but don't worry; eeeeeeviiiiil Dr. Brandaur gets her come-uppins by way of the Great Chomping before the film even goes into its endgame. Speaking of the endgame, I promised a comment on the FX and how Mallorca rips off "Meg" and Jaws in the same scene...

First off, the FX during the action sequences are truly superb, and shark movie enthusiasts may have seen them before on the Net. For the last four years, these FX scenes have been floating around Cyberspace under various guises; most notably:

1) The advanced FX work for the upcoming Meg movie, a project that has mistakenly been shitcanned recently by the gerbils in charge over at New Line Cinema.* (I don't care how many Freddy and Jason movies they spew out now, New Line will forever be the biggest turd in the Hollywood toilet for never making the Meg movie).

2) The teaser/trailer for Jaws 5. (By the way, Universal is mulling over a bunch of scripts for a straight to DVD, fifth Jaws installment.)**

3) The teaser/trailer for a Jaws remake to be helmed by James Cameron!?!? (Which by the way, was complete bullsh*t from day 1.)***

So let me set the record straight; said scenes on YouTube and the like came from Mallorca, case closed, elementary, my dear Watson.

Achtung! Vee vill now reeep off Steeef AAAltin! Heil us!

As for the endgame and the duality of plagiarism, this is how our Megalo-beastie buys it...

In a helicopter scene practically written ver-batim from Alten's pages with a Martin Brody plug in from Jaws, Sven pulls off his best "smile you son of a bitch" moment by shooting an explosive-laden jetski that the Meg has been swimming around with in its mouth!?!?

Yes, Sven planted the explosives on the jetski before sharky-shark decided to use it for a toothpick.

No, I won't tell you how, I leave that to your imagination.

Save...me...please. --- Must...do...sequel.

The bottom line? Rent this movie and watch it. It's no Jaws (but what is?) and it's not even Deep Blue Sea. But the beauty is, Mallorca never even tries to be such. It's as if the film knows its place in the genre and accepts it. The end result is, something that can be said with certainty, this is not the worst shark movie out there. Which, when you consider it's peers within the genre, is the highest of compliments. Hai-Alarm auf Mallorca is surprisingly pleasant and painless if you don't expect too much.

Authors Note: Footnotes have been added now, 3 years after original publication.

* New Line Cinema closed its doors for good, after the box office failure of Rush Hour 3, the film that supposedly boosted Meg to the back-burner of production. GOOD RIDDANCE, ASSHOLES! YOU DESERVE IT!

** Needless to say, Jaws 5 never saw fruition because...

*** Universal Studios is still trying to piece together a remake and the rumor was it would feature an all African American cast including Tracy Morgan and Malcolm Jamal Warner !?!?!? Just kill me now, please!

I hope you enjoyed this sharky stroll down memory lane as much as I did. I will be transferring all the older Turzman Critiques to this site, as well as some new material in the near future. Until then, stay well my friends, and of course-

Stay out of the water.

Film Critique- "Sharkwater"

2010-04-26T19:49:00.000-07:00

Part deux of my "Stay Out of the Water" film critique series is another old review I found bobbing along the surface at Operation Orca. It's a breath-taking documentary combining the brutal practice of shark finning with some exquisite and beautiful shots of sharks doing what sharks do best; swimming around and looking good doing it. Originally posted at OpOrc and KarmaCritic May 1, 2008...
Sharkwater (2007)
written and directed by Rob Stewart.

The barbaric practices of the shark-finning industry are criticized in this award-winning film that combines hidden-camera footage of the atrocious treatment of sharks with glorious underwater footage of the predators from first time documentarian Rob Stewart.

Biologically speaking, there's nothing new here. The intro offers a rudimentary description of sharks not uncommon with your basic Discovery channel doc, but the focus is on the degredation of shark populations and its effect on aquatic eco-systems. Specifically, shark fishing is targeted here, and Stewart teams up with a Greenpeace-like organization that motors around the world's oceans, making life difficult for fishermen with less than moral scruples.

The term, "in-depth" isn't quite correct here, because only the surface of the fin industry is scratched. Stewart was able to sneak a camera into a Costa Rican shark fin "holding area," and there is ample footage of the act itself out on the water. But how, exactly the fins get from waterfront warehouses to restaurants around the world is still unknown, despite being illegal in 16 countries.

But there is brutality aplenty, as we see the bodies of finless, tail-less sharks being dumped back into the ocean, still alive, to die (probably of) suffocation before they are picked apart by every little nibbler in the sea. Stuff like this, simply put, defines "cruelty."

But this yin certainly has a yang, for Sharkwater isn't just a bloody orgy of shark-f*cking. No, there is some majestic underwater footage of sharks doing what they do best, showing that Stewart has a very keen eye when looking through a viewfinder. Coupled with the fact that it is underwater, free swimming with sharks, even the most established of DP's must appreciate the fruits of this labor.

This is a film that can be appreciated even if you're not a shark freak like me. Anyone who enjoys a good doc will love this film. And it wouldn't hurt a non-shark freak to get a little education about the ocean's top predator. When seals hunt for fish, they are just as predatory and implement similar tactics as sharks, yet they are protected. Herman Melville depicted the sperm whale as a monster, but with a little observation and understanding, it became clear that whales are hardly dangerous (to humans) so they are protected. What Sharkwater suggests is the same thing for sharks. A little bit of observation, education and understanding may lead humans to believe that "just because they're scary" is not reason enough to slaughter sharks to the brink of extinction.

Warming up in the bullpen is the third and final installment of my "Stay Out of the Water" film critique series, Hai Alarm auf Mallorca. in the interim, go get some knowledge for yourself. It doesn't matter what, just teach yourself something new by reading a book or watching something educational. Or read some of my older blogs.

Internet addict Pornocat says, "I'd like to see a review of the film, Catwater, which is about the brutally barbaric and deplorable act of forcing cats to take a bath. Everyone knows that a cat's tongue is better than any scrub brush. My ex-wife can attest to that, but it doesn't explain why she left me."

Film Critique- "Jaws: The Revenge"

2010-04-24T19:51:00.000-07:00

I was searching the archives over at Operation Orca and I found a thread of my older critiques. I thought they had all been published here at Turzman Dot Com but nay, there were some stragglers.
I will be sure to get them over here ASAP, but only one at a time. I don't want to logjam my readers to the point of migraine pains. I figured I'd start off with a true classic. A film that was legend in this wacky biz-niz long before it was ever made. A film so bad, it's good and often credited as being the WORST film of all time.
So, originally published at OpOrc and KarmaCritic back in May of 2008, and all due respect to the true worst film of all time, Troll II, I give you...

JAWS: THE REVENGE (1987)
starring: Lorraine Gary, Lance Guest, Mario Van Peebles, Michael Caine
written by: Michael De Guzman
directed by: Joseph Sargent

The rumors are true. Jaws: The Revenge is one of the worst movies ever shown to audiences. But for all the bad that has been said about JTR (and boy-o-boy, has there been a lot of bad!), there is some merit to be found, even in a piece of garbage like this.

Don't get too excited, there's no silver lining in this dark cloud nor is there gold at the end of this rainbow. Hell, this box of Cracker Jacks doesn't even have a nifty little toy waiting for you. But if nothing else, JTR is a very educational film, in a certain context. Here's what one can learn after viewing the fourth (and so far, final) Jaws installment:

Want to know why Lorraine Gary was never a leading lady? Watch Jaws 4.
Want to know why Joseph Sargent has only directed lousy television since the late 80's? Watch Jaws 4.
Want to know why Lance Guest fell off the face of the Earth? Watch Jaws 4.
Want to know how low Michael Caine will stoop for a paycheck? Watch Jaws 4.
Want to know the wrong way to act Jamaican? Watch Mario Van Peebles in Jaws 4.
Want to know exactly how a Great White shark does not behave? Watch Jaws 4.

Oh yeah, I can go on, but I'm here to write a review...

The film's titles are accompanied by a POV shot of the titular beastie swimming the waters off Amity Island and a variation of John Williams' magnificent score from the original Jaws, and we'll come to find that this is the first of many lame-duck and embarrassing attempts to remind the viewer that we are, in fact, watching a Jaws sequel via what the producers want us to believe are homages (more on this later). As the music crescendos, and the tension (ha!) builds, we cut abruptly to... a fish in a frying pan. Um, scary, right? But wait- who's frying the fish?
Why, it's ELLEN BRODY! Being played by- LORRAINE GARY! The same actress who played her in the first two films! YAY, fly the banners and blow the trumpets!

Wait.

Where's the fanfare? Oh yeah, it's only Lorraine Gary, who hadn't worked since 1979's Speilberg sleeper, 1941, and had since been retired and married to Sid Sheinberg, then president of Universal Pictures. (Hmmm, the game is afoot, Watson). Oh well, we're supposed to think it's a big deal, so take it as you see fit.

Mama Brody's talking to her youngest, Sean (played by a different actor again, this time it's Mitchell Anderson. Who? Nevermind.) and Sean is following Dad's footsteps, as he's a deputy in the Amity PD, which means it's him and one other cop, if JTR follows the same formula as Jaws I & II. So dedicated is deputy Sean, that he's going to the office to check in before he joins mom and girlfriend for a little Christmas Eve celebration.
Going to the office? Has the Amity PD discontinued the use of walkie-talkies? Geez, they really do count on summer dollars for survival in this town! So Sean goes to the cop station and the first two things we see really piss me off...

First, there's a picture of (homage alert) Roy Scheider in his Amity PD uniform, a publicity still from the original Jaws hovering over the desk of a secretary named (homage alert) Polly, which was the name of the secretary from the original. Remember the line, "Let Polly do the printing!"? Well to us JawsFreaks, Polly's a legend for her penmanship alone. Is it the same actress? Can't be. Polly was older than dirt in 1975, and if she hadn't retired by 1987, then the Amity PD must implement a slave labor program not unlike the Pharohs of Egypt. Poor, poor Polly. And the picture of Martin Brody? C'mon, I love Scheider as much as any heterosexual male, but anybody with even a selective memory knows what he meant to this franchise, and we don't need reminders. There are even some of us who know that Scheider turned down a god-awful amount of money for a cameo in part 4, just to get chomped instead of Sean (oops, spoiler, sorry).

All praise to Allah that he didn't do it.

Anyway, Sean can't go home yet because there's a piece of driftwood in the channel that will cause all sorts of chaos for the fishermen (?) and he has to move it.

What?

Forget it, it's a plot device to get Sean on the water. And why can't the other cop do it? Because he's busy investigating reports of cow tipping!?!? (Cows? In New England? On an island? I don't think so.) Jesus, Sean. Just get in the boat and let's get this over with...

He gets et up. There's this log, see? It's stuck next to a buoy, and this will bother the fishermen, how, exactly? Oh please. As Sean works this log, a thirty foot Great White sneaks up behind him and bites off his arm, along with a big chunk of boat. Lousy editing, fast cuts, quick glimpses of teeth; real lazy. Sean falls in water, clings to log and buoy. (Homage alert) This scene is oddly similar to Chrissie Watkins' death at the beginning of the original. So let's think about this...

In order to lure Sean into the water, the shark (who somehow found out Sean was a cop, and on-duty tonight(!)) placed the log in the channel, next to the buoy, disrupting fishermen AND going on land to tip some cows to make sure the other cop would be too busy to do it himself! How do we know this? Well, close analysis of the log shows what are clearly teeth marks! So this shark is clever, conniving, and out to get the Brody clan. Remember, this time, it's personal.

So this film is five minutes old and we've already had shameless plugs of the original film and countless plot flaws.

Do you hate this movie yet?

Cut to Sean's funeral, and guess who flew in for the festivities? The older Brody sibling, Michael, played this time by Lance Guest (four years removed from the magnificent, The Last Starfighter! What the hell happened?) Michael is married to an arc welding artist (I swear to God, I can't make this up!) and has a daughter. One of the few bright spots in this film is Thea Brody, played by Judith Barsi, who tragically, was murdered by her father shortly after this film. The kid's not annoying, and the viewer does not form an instant despise for her, unlike little kids in most other movies. Irony can be pretty ironic, I guess.

Anyway, Michael has become a marine biologist, studying giant snails in the Bahamas. Wow, fun stuff. You know, you'd think that after the events in Jaws III, both the Brody kids would have sense enough to stay the hell away from the water. But yet, one's a cop on an island, and the other gets paid to swim in the ocean.

Sweet Jesus, I hate this movie.

And we come to find that Michael, despite working on his doctorate (studying snails, woo-hoo!) is a complete idiot. His grand plan to console his mom, and get her mind off sharks is to invite her down to the Bahamas(!) Yeah, go from one island to another, to forget about sharks. Brilliant, you shithead.

And besides, wouldn't a third-story high-rise in lower Manhattan be sufficient protection from the average shark? Even if it was a real ambitious shark, like the one in this film. Oh well, I shouldn't digress too much, because this movie gets worse. For example, Ellen is convinced it was the shark that killed her husband, too.
"But Mom, Dad died of a heart attack." Michael reminds her.
"No he didn't. He died of FEAR!" She exclaims.

Now hold on, sister. Martin Brody saved this podunk town, not once, but twice from giant, man-eating sharks, so let's try and give him a little credit. Died of fear?

puh-leeeze!

So they fly to the Bahamas. And the shark swims to the Bahamas. And we meet Hoagie (Michael Caine) and it's obvious in his scenes that the other participants were in awe in the presence of a real actor. There's nothing special about the character, except that it's played by Michael Caine, and provides a love interest for the emotionally distraught Ellen. Her son's dead body isn't even cold yet, and she's gonna play patty-fingers with the local flyboy. Eww, gross.

Then we meet Jake, aka- Mario Van Peebles with a ridiculously fake Jamaican accent. Get ready to hate Jake because he's as annoying as fecal matter shoved up your nose. He's also pissed because they lost one whole day's worth of research because Mike had to leave town.

Yeah, for his brother's funeral, you scumbag!

Besides, the average sea-snail (or conch) travels an impressive four inches a day. How much ground-breaking data could possibly have been lost!? And by the way, who's paying for this snail research, anyway? Obviously someone with waaaay too much money. Sea snails? Booooriiiiing!

So Jake and Michael are fiddling with snails, and the shark shows up to spoil their plans. And it's obvious that the shark has more interest in Michael than Jake, adding credence to the whole "this time it's personal" plot point. But brilliant Michael has another great idea how to handle the whole "shark thing," he decides to keep it a secret!?!?

Hold on now. There's this family with a violent history involving killer sharks. His one brother just got et, and the mom is convinced that fear of the shark killed the dad. So when another giant shark shows up and picks on the other brother, he decides to sit on that information? Not even telling the authorities? A decision which, by the way, directly leads to the deaths of people later in the film! Never mind the criminal negligence, but this is the act of a really big jerk! Keeping his family out of the loop? Disgraceful.

Also, Mike has a problem with his mom looking for a little nookie from Hoagie. This further adds to Michael's jerkiness, not even allowing his mother a little crisis counseling. (Even if it is the high-hard one from Michael Caine). But hey, live and let live and stay out of the water.

Okay enough of this. Flash forward to the end game, which is about as dopey as a movie ending can be. Eventually, everyone ends up on a boat, Jake has rigged some electro-thinga-majigger to shock the shark and Ellen's driving the boat. (Homage alert) as the boat and shark approach like jousting knights, Ellen has flashbacks to when Martin killed the first shark. I'll say that again; Ellen has flashbacks, remembering events she did not witness (!) but at this point, who cares, really?

The shark gets shocked, jumps out of the water, roars(!), and gets stabbed by the pointy thing on the front of the boat. Good driving, Ellen! Oh yeah, then the shark explodes(!!).

Roll credits, movie over, mercifully.

And there you have it- the heart-ripping critique of a bad Jaws sequel by a Jaws FINatic. I'll keep the shark theme going, so stay tuned for my reviews of Sharkwater (2007) and the surprisingly good, made for German TV movie, Hai Alarm auf Mallorca (2004), or as American DVD audiences came to know it as in 2007, Shark Attack in the Mediterranean.

Stay out of the water.

Hawai'i Legislators Make Pioneer Move to Protect Sharks

2010-04-13T19:47:00.000-07:00

Los Angeles, Ca - On April 6th, 2010, the Hawai'i House passed measure SB 2169, prohibiting the distribution, sale, and possession of shark fins in the State of Hawai'i. If passed through the Senate, will set a precedent for other states and nations. Measure SB 2169 is a victory for the protection of sharks and an important step toward ocean conservation. If/when SB 2169 becomes effective, Hawaii will be the first state in the union to ban the sale of shark fins.
Currently, shark finning is banned in U.S. waters; however, the sale of shark fins is still legal. Shark "finning" is the process of cutting the fins from the living animal and wastefully disposing of the body back into the sea. Finning kills over 70 million sharks annually, threatening the survival of these important top predators. Shark fins are consumed primarily in the form if shark fin soup, a delicacy traditionally served to Asian communities at banquets and weddings and is erroneously thought to have health benefits. The growing economic power of the Asian public is fueling a booming and unsustainable industry that is critically endangering sharks.

By preying on weak, sick and dying animals, sharks prevent explosions of fish populations and are the key element in a balanced ecosystem. Removing sharks from the oceanic ecosystem may have dramatic ecological impacts that could threaten all commercial fisheries.

Iemanya Oceanica, a Southern California based shark conservation group is delighted about the turn of events in Hawai'i, "We hope that lawmakers around the world will follow suit in instituting similar protections for these critically important animals. We want to congratulate Hawai'i's representatives for their groundbreaking decision to get behind this measure" said Iemanya's President, Laleh Mohajerani.

The bill now has passed from the house and into "Conference" next week, which means it will be subjected to additional discussion and potential amendments. Stefanie Brendl from the Humane Society who has been rallying support for this bill says, "I felt that it was such an important and historic piece of legislation that I immediately dropped everything and have dedicated all my time to it. It hasn't been easy getting this bill this far and we don't expect it to be easy in the next weeks to come." Brendl continues "This bill is not only important for Hawai'i but for the whole nation, if not for the world. The Mission Blue team of 50 top celebrities and marine scientists are now supporting the measure, including Dr. Silvia Earle, Ed Norton, Glenn Close, and Leonardo di Caprio." Brendl will be working with Senator Hee, who introduced the Bill, and Representative McKelvey, a supporter of the Bill, on the exact final language. SB 2169 will then move on to a Senate vote.

In 2010 Iemanya Oceanica will be collaborating with other conservation groups on a nation-wide campaign in the U.S. to prohibit the sale and possession of shark fins in all 50 states, and Mohajerani added, "We are all eagerly watching Hawai'i's progress in this extraordinary move towards shark conservation and support the Hawai'ian legislators push to protect the oceans from being depleted."

Oh, the conversations I have...

2010-04-12T21:55:00.000-07:00

Let's talk about penis pumps. It's an occupational hazard of mine, (talking about them, not using them, wise-ass) and I had to become an expert overnight to satisfy the concerns of men who don't always feel, "up to the task."
That ends the comedic portion of this blog. Despite finding great humor in my new occupation, I'd be remiss to not take some of this stuff seriously. Men come into my store with some valid concerns that cannot be addressed by a standard jerk sleeve.
So I used the Intranet to do some actual research because as a legitimate peddler of the PRON I have to be able to answer questions like the one most men have wondered at least once in their lifetimes.

"Do penis pumps actually work?"

The short answer is "yes."

Now men, don't go out and drop your coin in sweaty anticipation just yet. The longer, more complex answer requires that I ask, "What are you using the pump for?" You see, PP's (no snickering allowed, this is educational stuff) are actual, medical devices designed to help with actual, medical problems. Medical problems concerning the penis.

This is when I assume you boys aren't so bold to go out and buy one so quickly. I'm right, ain't I?

It would help if potential PP consumers knew how they worked...

Penis pumps work by vacuum aspiration (this simply means they create a vacuum around the penis). By squeezing a bulb, or using a plunger, or electric pump, air is sucked out of the cylinder that is placed over the shaft of the penis. As the air is sucked out, a stronger and stronger vacuum is created around the penis. Your penis gets pulled into the cylinder. The blood pressure within your penis causes extra blood to rush into the erectile tissue. This causes engorgement (erection). Then a round clamp is used to hold the extra blood in the penis for about 30 minutes. Clamping it any longer can cause serious problems. The erection caused by a PP is not the same as a normal erection. It is softer and spongier.

I get the impression, based on conversations I have while trying to sell these things, that men expect a "miracle," being instant size increase after only one use. If that were the case, everyone would have one. When they learn that results don't show immediately, they are no longer interested in buying a PP, seeing it as a waste of money.

PP's, like most medical tools (or drugs) need time to take a more permanent effect on the subject. The more you use a pump (following directions to the letter) the less the blood vessels will shrink back to their original sizes. Thus, more blood will flow when a natural erection occurs, leading to a girthier johnson (and a pleasantly surprised girlfriend).

Besides, anything with such an impressive gauge on it just has to work? Doesn't it?

Oh, and another thing, PP's do not cure erectile dysfunction, but they will create an erection sufficient for sexual intercourse. You get a "manufactured erection". It is not as hard as a true erection, but unlike surgery and implants, PP's are totally non invasive.

Knowledge is power. Go out and get some.

The Good Fortune Contiues...

2010-04-07T22:01:00.000-07:00

Well, I picked up a monitor off Craig's List for $25 and some ethernet routers for $9 each. My personal pc is up and running. Albeit slow, but I'm not one to be thankless. Bumming off another's pc was so inconvenient for the both of us.

Turzman says, "Always practice SAFE SEX!"

This means it will be easier to write my film critiques and I'm just itching to sound off on the new Clash of the Titans and the hilarious show from SpikeTV, Blue Mountain State. Also, I have procured a box set released from Legend that contains no less than six films featuring one of my personal faves, Briana Banks.

I think it's a safe bet that I'll be doing a BB marathon, oogling over those DD's.
Also, for those interested, I will take requests. If there's a film you want reviewed (old or new) just ask and I'll do my darndest to see it and opine personally for you. As if that's a big effing deal.

Cheers.

What I've Learned from Watching PRON.

2010-04-04T13:04:00.000-07:00

"What I've Learned from Watching Porn."

*ripped from a friend's Facebook page*

Women wear high heels to bed.
When going down on a woman 10 seconds is more than satisfactory.
If a woman gets busted masturbating by a strange man, she will not scream with embarrassment, but rather insist he have sex with her.

Women smile appreciatively when men splat them in the face with sperm.
Women enjoy having sex with ugly, middle-aged men.
Women moan uncontrollably when giving a blowjob.
A blowjob will always get a woman off a speeding ticket.
All women are noisy as hell.
People in the 70's couldn't have sex unless there was a wild guitar solo in the background.
Those boobs are real.
A common and enjoyable sexual practice for a man is to take his half-erect penis and slap it repeatedly on a woman's butt.
Men always groan "OH YEAH!" when they cum.
If there is two of them they "high five" each other. (and the girl isn't disgusted!)
Double penetration makes women smile.
Asian men don't exist.
If you come across a guy and his girlfriend having sex in the bushes, the boyfriend won't bash seven shades of shit out of you if you shove a penis in his girlfriend's mouth.
When taking a woman from behind, a man can really excite a woman by giving her a brisk slap on the butt.
Nurses always suck patient's penises.
When your girlfriend busts you getting head from her best friend, she'll only be momentarily pissed off before having sex the both of you.
Women never have headaches... or periods.

When a woman is giving a blow job, it's important for him to remind her to "suck it".
A man ejaculating on a woman's butt is a satisfying result for all parties concerned.
Women always look pleasantly surprised when they open a man's trousers and find a penis there.
Men don't have to beg.
When standing during a blowjob, a man will always place one hand firmly on the back of the kneeling woman's head and the other proudly on his hip.

Tales from the PRON Store, Volume I -(nsfw)

2010-04-01T19:46:00.000-07:00

Today, a customer asked me if we sold He-She, trans sexual DVDs.
I said, "But of course."

As I led him to our Hall of Trannies, the song on the radio was
"More than a Woman" by the Bee Gees.

I found that to be eerily fitting.
Is it irony, or just an odd coincidence?

I told you my blogs would become more interesting.

The top-selling item this week:
The Tera Patrick pussy and ass.

Coming in close at second place is a Fleshlight molded from Jenna Haze's butt.

I don't know what to start my X-Mas list with.

Aloha also means, "Hello."

2010-03-27T15:08:00.000-07:00

The first two months on my new island have been, let's call it interesting. The relocation was very easy, considering we got the place online without ever seeing it in person. Our cars were shipped directly and right on time, thanks to the wonderful staff at the UPS Store in Riverside, who over-saw shipping of all our stuff (one entire pallet's worth).

The job hunt was a success, whereas in less than one month I found a good sales job with strong commissions and full medical bennies. To be frank, I sell porn. Judge as you may but be aware that there is no shame working in a recession-proof industry. I love my new job, because my strong upselling and suggestive selling skills have carried over. Case in point-

The other day I noticed a guy browsing our "masturbation aids." Your basic jerk-sleeves retail at about $12.95. After about ten minutes with this guy, I had him sold on a $65 Fleshlight and I tacked on a $13 bottle of water-based lube. FYI, you don't want a silicone-based lube for it will eat away the lining of your fleshlight. You're welcome. I wish to educate as well as entertain, but only the advice is free.

The point is, when I worked at a certain, shitty coffee dispensary which I now boycott, and the taco dispensary which I miss with all my heart, I prided myself on my ability to upsell. At risk of tooting my own horn, nobody moved pastries like me. I was, and still am the king of churros, bunuelos, cookies, donuts and flakey & buttery croissants.

My sales success in the PRON bizniz is proof that I still got the Goods, and no one can take that away from me. Boo-yeah.

I have not made any new friends, which is fine considering I don't want any. My co-workers are fine enough, and they are a great bunch of fellas, t'boot. Plus, I meet an entirely different species of folk, which can do nothing but make my stories all the more entertaining.

As an added bonus, I've come to learn that filming for the fourth Pirates of the Caribbean installment will be on my island this summer, and open casting calls take place mid-April. I am going for it. I see this as maybe a final attempt at glory before I "hang up my cleats," as I planned to do long before my transplant to the Tropics.

So despite leaving friends and family behind, I find myself in a place I thought impossible as recently as last summer; HAPPINESS and CONTENTEDNESS.

The downside is, my laptop took a dump and I surf the Net on a borrowed computer, so updates will be few and far between until I get my own pc. I also plan to write my Turzman Critiques again. I no longer care that nobody reads them. From now on, I will write movie reviews for me and my own enjoyment. Anybody who wants to tag along can do a lot worse, but I will no longer view readership as "gravy on top." People can take my advice before going to the cinema, rental house or Netflix, or not. It's your money.

So, until I get a new pc, I'll see you in the funny papers. Cheers-

-and party on.

CITES Fails to Protect Sharks

2010-03-26T15:06:00.000-07:00

The Convention on International Trade of Endangered Species (CITES) has failed to protect all eight shark species proposed for protection by several nations, including the United States and the island nation of Palau.

Protections for the porbeagle shark passed early on at CITES but were overturned on March 24th after a huge push from Japan during a re-vote. The porbeagle, spiny dogfish, oceanic whitetip, scalloped hammerhead, great hammerhead, smooth hammerhead, dusky and sandbar sharks now face an extremely uncertain future. Nobody was asking for a ban on trade, only management of trade, yet the proposals were a nogo! Had the protections passed, countries involved in the trading of these sharks would have been required to monitor and report all exports and demonstrate that their fishing methods were carried out sustainably.

Among the most vocal opponents of instituting trade regulations for sharks are Japan and China. Japan argues that regulations should be managed regionally and that CITES is not the appropriate forum. China is the largest consumer of shark fin soup, and consumption continues to increase exponentially as more and more Chinese move into the middle class and are able to afford the so-called "delicacy." Japan has vehemently opposed trade restrictions not only for sharks but for all of the marine species proposed for protection under CITES. For example, prior to the March 19, 2010 decision not to protect Bluefin tuna, Japan explicitly stated that it would have ignored protections for Bluefin had any passed. We are appalled by the audacity of Japan (They even shmoozed the delegates at a reception before the meeting by serving bluefin sashimi!) and by the betrayal of CITES' purpose at this meeting.

CITES is supposed to use scientific evidence to manage trade of endangered species, and yet all scientific evidence was thrown into a corner because of economic factors. Short-term economic interests have won out over long-term conservation efforts and solid scientific evidence showing the dramatic declines of these critically important species. The decisions not to protect all eight shark species could have disastrous consequences. All are subject to persistent demand, show dangerously high declines, are traded internationally and managed inadequately, are not subject to regional fishing limits, and have low reproductive rates (making them unable to reproduce quickly enough to keep up with demand).

We're simply not going to take the short-sighted decisions made at CITES without a fight. Iemanya is currently in the process of collaborating with other organizations to strategically ensure that protections are instituted for sharks and that history doesn't repeat itself next year at CITES. Follow us on facebook and twitter for updates and to find out how you can get involved.

Aloha means, "Farewell and Adieu."

2010-02-13T14:54:00.003-08:00

After what seems like an entire hockey season, I find myself blogging again. My bout with depression is nearing an end with my pending move to Oahu.
I've been keeping this secret for some months now, mostly because I was expecting my plans to fall through (again). They have not.
So come Wednesday morning, I will trek to LAX for what I hope will be the last time and will be in Honolulu by mid day. My California friends, the time to say goodbye is now.
My plan for the first two weeks is to follow Olympic hockey, in lieu of the NHL closing it's doors for the 21st winter Olympiad, and that's fine. My Rangers and Islanders are both disappointing me this season and I need a break.
I had the displeasure of watching my precious Rangers fall to the LA Kings at Staples Center two weeks ago, and now Marian Gaborik needs time to recover from an injury. Yes, NHL; I need a break from you.
I just watched the ladies from Sweden blank Switzerland, 3-0 and I'm looking forward to Canada versus Slovakia. Thank you, ladies, for some great hockey action.

Since I am on a borrowed computer, images of my regular cast of zany commentators are unavailable. Let's say they are on vacation. So, pinch hitting for Pornocat, Frank Silva, Gamera, Robert Shaw's ghost and the rest are the following special guests...

This unsuspecting 2X4 says,
"My grandfather and three of my uncles were all hockey sticks in the NHL, so I too am a big hockey fan. I would have been a hockey stick myself, but I decided to pursue a career in animal husbandry. I obviously have some regrets."

The cross-eyed fogey from Young Frankenstein says,
"I really used to enjoy women's hockey before that bully Gene Wilder kicked me in the nuts. Since then, I find no pleasure watching women do anything."

Tonoose, the envoy to the Blind Dead says,
"As I am blind, I have never seen a hockey game. Can you please describe it in words that are not visually descriptive adjectives?"

With any luck, I'll blog better next time, as it will probably be from a beach whose name I cannot pronounce.

Peace.

Come what ye may, deplorable Fate. And bring your worst.

2009-11-08T14:08:00.000-08:00

The thing about hitting rock bottom is nothing else can bring you down lower. People tell me to be more positive and I'm finaly giving in. The only nice thing I can think of is, it can't possibly get any worse.
I've told myself that before many times, only to be proven wrong. But if baseless optimism makes others around me feel better, I will try to kid myself some more.
My big future plans have crumbled apart (again) so I'm stuck in this miserable armpit of a city.
I am swamped at a dead end job with no money, oodles of debt and a disdain for people in general.
I'm on the wrong side of 35 years old, have no prospects and a certain lady stopped talking to me.
I'm supposed to find some positive in that. So others around me can feel better.
Okay, the positive things going on...

I went to the movies the other night. Saw The 4th Kind. It didn't suck. Think Blair Witch except creepier.
Sonny got a new best friend this week, a cat named Attila-

They ignore each other, which suits me fine.
Oh yeah, almost forgot- I get all the Mexican food I can eat at a 50% discount.

At long last, here it is. Whoopee.

2009-08-12T19:23:00.000-07:00

My lack of blogging suggests I am not the wordsmith I wish I was. They say, "a good writer is always writing" and my last post was over two months ago. Unless 2 plus 2 suddenly equals five, I don't like the message I send myself when I think about it.
Sadly, I still don't want to write. But dammit, I promised a critique of Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus and by golly, here it is...

Shark vs. Ock is exactly what you would expect from the douchebags in charge of The Asylum; a piece of crap with its best moments on display in the teaser/trailer. So don't waste your time with it.

I can offer some advice to its two stars. Lorenzo Lamas should keep doing exactly what he's doing because this is probably as good as it gets. Debbie Gibson should do porn. She leans toward pretty, and in porn her acting skills would almost be on par with her peers.

Now you may have noticed that this review is lacking a certain "something" compared to my critiques of the past. Yeah, it's called passion. I aint got it no more. But I assure you, Shark vs. Ock had illicited all the due attention it deserved. But in my defense, I did go above and beyond the call, as I have prepared for you, my intrepid readers, photo illustrations! Not screencaps. I have managed to encapsulate Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus using only my camera, an obscure GI JOE character, my MEG tooth and two unsuspecting Beanie Babies.

This is as good as the film's fx. The same cgi sequences repeated 3 and 4 times, which is sad considering during the film's 90-somewhad minute run time, the titular beasties are featured for only about eleven of those minutes. Pathetic.

This is a representation of Debbie Gibson's performance pinnacle in the film. It's the scene where she says something along the lines of, "Hey! Look at the size of this tooth fragment I found in a dead beached whale! I rule."

I rule too.
Until next time...

Netflix's First Faux Pau with me; and it's a doozy...

2009-06-02T14:05:00.000-07:00

Hello, friends.

I got an itch that only Netflix can scratch, and I'm finding out Netflix has no nails.
I know I promised a critique for Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus a while back and I've done everything in my power to get the film, short of paying upwards of $20 for a film that will probably suck. But I did bump the film to the top of my queue days before its release.
Before I continue, I want to clarify that this isn't necessarily a bitch session about Netflix per se. I have never had a problem with them and have been very happy with their service. But they're toying with me now, and I'm frigging pissed.
I'm well aware that Shark vs. Ock is (God knows why) a very anticipated film. It's been the buzz of the Internet for the last month because of it's gloriously cheesy yet entertaining trailer...

So naturally, I wasn't annoyed to see the "very long wait" notification upon its release. But it's been over two weeks, and no title has ever made me wait this long. What's worse is, about three days after its release, the status changed to "available now." It just so happened I had two rentals returned that very day.
Imagine my surprise when I received not Shark vs. Ock, but rather a compilation from season 3 of Law & Order and the final disk from season 2 of The Odd Couple.
And yet, when I checked Netflix, Shark vs. Ock was still listed as available. The next day, it was changed back to "very long wait" and has not changed since.

What the hell, Netflix? What the frigging HELL?!?!?!?! Your list is writing checks that your service can't cash.
Now I'm not ready to pull the plug on Netflix just yet. It's been a convenient and (up until now) reliable service, but Netflix right now is definitely at the top of my Shit List Queue (HA!) and the only way they're getting off is when I see my frigging Mega Shark lock horns with a Giant Octopus.

This is your first and last warning, Netflix.

El Oso y El Conejo

2009-05-27T15:55:00.000-07:00

Un oso y un conejo fueron hacer del bano en el bosque.
El oso dice al conejo, "Perdoname pero tienes tu problema con caca atorada en tus pelos?"
El conejo dice, "No. No tengo problemas."

El oso hagarra el conejo y limpia su culo con el.

Translation available upon request.

In the meantime, go burn your face. Talking Heads used to kick ass. What happened?

JCVD is Van Damme's best.

2009-05-21T00:39:00.000-07:00

JCVD
starring Jean-Claude Van Damme
written by Frederic Benudis, Mabrouk El Mechri & Christophe Turpin
directed by Mabrouk El Mechri

Way back when I critiqued My Name is Bruce, I said it took the formula from Three Amigos! and Galaxy Quest and dropped the ball in the laugh department. Which is unfortunate because it was supposed to be a comedy. Although tagged as comedy, JCVD is not funny except in the few moments when it tries to be. This film is a drama and it's damn good.
Former mega-super celebrity Jean-Claude Van Damme (playing himself) has hit rock bottom. He got his ass kicked in a divorce, is about to lose custody of his daughter and has depleted his bank account to pay his lawyers.
Upon returning home to Belgium, he goes to a post office to collect a money-order loan from his agent in Los Angeles (post offices double as banks in some European countries). Van Damme's timing sucks as bad as his luck as he walks in, smack dab in the middle of a robbery. Witnesses outside recognized him, saw him enter and the local authorities believe he is the one robbing le poste when the doo doo hits the fan.
JCVD is not your typical Van Damme vehicle, as it is lacking in karate chops, high kicks, big explosions, fast action, wafer-thin supporting characters, an over the top villian, absurd plot devices and a predictable ending. Here, we have instead oodles of suspense & drama, a great performance from Van Damme and a deep excursion into the human condition. He shows us a side of himself that was probably deemed as "unmarketable" for his image, and strong acting chops (also unmarketable for big action cheese of the 90's, lol).
Although fictional the story of JCVD remains firmly planted within the realm of realty, giving the film the feel of a documentary. The characters never do anything stupid or unfeasable for the context and the viewer never has to suspend disbelief. The film effectively creates the "realism" effect that the recent rash of "camcorder pov" movies we have been subjected to lately failed miserably to achieve.
As to Van Damme's performance, it is remarkable, certainly the best of his career. It's a damn shame he waited this long to showcase his acting skills. One scene in particular when Van Damme makes a confession of sorts directly to the audience, is nothing short of tear-jerking. He actually breaks the fourth wall twice in the film. The first time is so subtle it can be easly missed, but serves as foreshadowing for the second time; an elongated scene (shot in one sequence sans editing) that starts with him asking the question, "Why did I do this? Why did I do this film?" What follows is about six minutes of exposition where Van Damme talks about his failed marriage, his daughter, an addiction to drugs, his celebrity, his fall from grace and how losing it all nearly drove him to the brink of self-destruction. Because it is spoken in his native French, it loses nothing in translation, and the viewer cannot help but be moved. Had it been spoken in English, it almost certainly would have been too hokey to illicit anything but laughs.
The scene is a cognizant pause from the story proper, but is delivered within the story's context, so we believe we are really watching a celebrity, in a dangerous situation reflecting upon himself. A life flashing before the eyes type of moment. By the end Van Damme is in tears, and as the scene falls back into the story proper, there is a moment where we almost expect the characters (both villains and hostages) to break out into applause. I'll go as far as to say this scene alone warranted an Oscar nomination.
Of all my Turzman Critiques, JCVD gets my strongest recommendation, if for nothing else, Van Damme's performance. Fans of the flexible Beligian may not appreciate JCVD as it is completely different from anything he's done. But people who have chastised and jeered the man in the past may want to view this and reconsider their opinions of Msr. Jean-Claude.

Seth McFarlane's Cavalcade of Cartoon Comedy: Uncensored.
starring Seth McFarlane, among others
written by Seth McFarlane, among others
directed by Greg Colton

If the word "uncensored" means nothing more than not bleeping out curse words, then you may consider that to be the only success of this unfunny, 90 minute drab-fest with topics ranging from sex to, well, sex. Viewers hoping for a disc that would make the foulest of potty-mouths blush are gonna have to look somewhere else.
The topics covered in Cavalcade are not nearly as raunchy as stuff one can watch on cable TV. Any unsuspecting episode of South Park or even The Simpons puts Cavalcade to shame, which is surprising considering McFarlane is responsible for the comedic gem Family Guy and the moderately funny American Dad. So surprising in fact, that it makes me wonder if Family Guy spinoff, The Cleveland Show will even be worth watching.
Who am I kidding? I'll watch Cleveland.

That's all for now. Next time I'll tackle Liam Neeson as he throws his hat into the Jason Bourne/James Bond ring with Taken.
Also, I'll critique the most anticipated direct to DVD, probably piece of crap the morons over at The Asylum have ever released, Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus. I know how that sounds, and you're probably right. But the trailer alone merits viewing...

Oh, HELL yes!

Guardian of the Universe Gamera says, "I long for the days when Turz used words like 'shallow,' 'pedantic' and 'downtrodden' in his critiques. Can you please review a stinker in the near future? Thank you."

Amity Island Harbor Master Frank Silva says, "Shark versus octopus? That may be a good fight, but it's lousy eatin'. How 'bout swordfish versus tuna fish? Cod versus shrimp? Quahog clam versus lobster, with melted butter and iced Narragansett lager. Anyone? Hello?"

Internet addict PornoCat says, "Turz and I are still looking for some good quality Reverend Horton Heat videos, to no avail. HELP PLEASE!?!?!? Meow."

"Meg: Hell's Aquarium" available NOW!

2009-05-10T22:46:00.000-07:00

Book four of the MEGnificent MEG series had a surprise early release nd is available now. I got my advanced copy, read it, LURVED it.
Steve Alten scores again.
Here's the trailer-

If you don't read, you're an idiot. If you don't know how, LEARN, ASSHOLE!
And read the MEG series. Improve yourself, fer chrissakes.

Now the previous post was to satisfy the latin fire that slowly permeates my skin and invades my blood a little bit each day. Here is some American greatness...

Billy Joel fell for some broad named Leyna in the late 70's and wrote a song about it. "All For Leyna"

ZZ Top, when they had their New York Brims and their sideburns low, lol. "I'm Bad I'm Nationwide"

Motorhead's "No Voices in the Sky"

A history lesson from Social Distortion, "1945"

"Flat Earth Society" from Bad Religion

And Stevie Wonder performs "Superstition" LIVE on Sesame Street!

Top that bitches.

Coming soon to Turzman Central, my critique of the magnficent film, JCVD starring John Claude Van Damme as JCVD.

Until then, enjoy this parsel from the Women I really, really want to have sex with, but who wouldn't? files, Tawney Roberts and Alexa Rae.

"Senora. Digame donde esta el amor, senora."

2009-05-10T22:16:00.000-07:00

Woman. Tell me where the love is, woman.

Yeah. What Tito Rojas said, bitch!

turz out

Three Quick Thoughts

2009-05-08T15:57:00.000-07:00

Here are some quick thoughts on three films I have seen recently and promised critiques for. I’m behind in my reviews, so I will keep it quick until my full critique of JCVD.

For now I start with…

Quantum of Solace (2008)
starring Daniel Craig, Judi Dench, Olga Kurylenko
written by Paul Haggis, Neal Purvis & Robert Wade
directed by Marc Forster

The haters can say whatever they want, but Quantum of Solace is not the worst Bond film. Not by a damn sight. In fact, Solace is not only a good stand alone film, but a great direct sequel to Casino Royale, which is, a) exactly what it was supposed to be, and b) unprecedented in the franchise. A considerable feat considering the pressures the filmmakers were under by just attempting such a drastic change to a long standing formula and history reminds us of the jokes associated with “sequelitis.” Casino Royale made it perfectly clear that the World of Bond was going to be different. Daniel Craig plays a different 007 than his predecessors, and MI-6 is different than the M’s and Q’s from the last forty years.
I love Casino Royale. I love the changes.
Quantum of Solace begins within hours of Royale’s end and is chock full of action from start to finish without distracting the viewer from the plot. It’s a wonderful balance of action and story and successfully lays the groundwork for future sequels, direct or not.
The mysterious criminal organization that no one seems to know about can be a precursor to a revisited S.P.E.C.T.R.E. and the fortuitous Mr. White may be set up as this generation’s Blofield.
I, for one, cannot wait to see what the Broccoli Company has in store for us next.

The Petrified Forest (1936)
starring Leslie Howard, Bette Davis, Humphrey Bogart
written by Charles Kenyon & Delmer Daves, based on the play by Robert E. Sherwood
directed by Archie Mayo

Touted as Humphrey Bogart’s breakthrough performance, The Petrified Forest was a showcase for Leslie Howard and Bette Davis. In fact, Bogey’s character doesn’t even make an appearance until well after half of the film’s running time. Until then, Petrified Forest is a collection of talking heads while middle-of-nowhere diner waitress Gabrielle (Davis) bats eyes with drifter Alan (Howard) whilst jealous middle-of-nowhere gas station attendant Boze (Dick Foran) repeatedly attempts to assassinate Alan’s character.
The film suffers from some moments of tedium while trying to build up the suspense to the arrival of super-badass criminal Duke Mantee (Bogart). When Mantee and his gang finally show up, the film gets more interesting, and then the bullets start flying. The gunfight is fun to watch and leads to the film’s surprise ending.
Luckily for us, this boring film juggernauted Bogey’s popularity rather than kill his career.

The Wrestler (2008)
starring Mickey Rourke, Marisa Tomei, Evan Rachel Wood
written by Robert D. Seigel
directed by Darren Aronofsky

The rumors are true. Mickey Rourke is magnificent as the fictional, has-been wrestler Randy “The Ram” Robinson. The Wrestler is a slow paced film, but care for and interest in the character doesn’t allow the viewer to get bored. You can thank Rourke’s performance for that. The film’s only flaw as far as I can tell is that it is sorely depressing, by design no less. The viewer spends an hour and forty five minutes loving and feeling bad for The Ram, and not one good thing happens to the poor guy throughout without it seriously going wrong. Writer Robert D. Seigel could have had The Ram experience a little bit of good luck while keeping him sympathetic and tragic at the same time. Instead, we are left with absolutely nothing to feel good about when the ending rolls around, and we’re not sure whether The Ram lives or dies.
Marisa Tomei is wonderful as The Ram’s love interest, a has-been stripper named Cassidy, but it’s obvious Seigel hasn’t spent much time in gentlemen’s clubs. There is a line between strippers and their customers that a stripper would never cross. Cassidy finally does, at the end of the film, damaging The Wrestler’s realism credibility.
The ending, by the way, is an abrupt cop out, in my opinion, and the audience deserved better. The Ram deserves better, too.

Star Trek (2009) No spoilers.

2009-05-07T23:29:00.000-07:00

I'm willing to admit that in order for a Trek reboot to succeed, it would need a facelift. Maybe my fellow Trekkies are a dying breed, but the established magnificence just wasn't connecting with contemporary adolescent mouth-breathers. I thought that Enterprise would surely be the death blow of everything I knew as "Trek."
Well, J.J. Abrams and Roberto Orci did, in fact, completely re-arrange well-established canon, but did so (in the truest spirit of Trek-explanations) while keeping one foot firmly planted in the context of sci-fi writing.
To explain without giving away too much, a band of Romulans from the future (led by Eric Bana and his sidekick, Clifton Clifton Gonzalez Gonzalez, Jr. lol) go back in time in an attempt to wipe out the Vulcan race because they're mad at Ambassador Spock (Leonard Nimoy reprising the role). The Romulan actions create an alternate reality. So the events of Trek past still happened, but didn't, get it?
Oh well, the movie explains it well enough.
In short, I appreciate the efforts of the filmmakers to not completely ignore and forget past canon.
As for performances, Zachary Quinto is magnificent as the new Spock. Chris Pine is going to be a very interesting new Kirk, as he incorporates some not so subtle "shades of Shatner" at the end of the film. Karl Urban nails the role of Dr. McCoy, and Simon Pegg is twelve degrees of enjoyable as Scotty. Anton Yelchin and John Cho are commendable as the loveable helm tandem of Chekov and Sulu, but the most surprisingperformance comes from Zoe Saldana as Uhura. Interesting because Uhura is the character that undergoes the most changes, and she's much more prominenetly featured here than Nichelle Nichols ever was (no fault of her own, let me make that clear). Saldana's Uhura is very sexy and smart, but much stronger than Nichol's. If Nichelle Nichols was an inspiration to young women of her day, then Zoe Saldana takes the torch and runs with it most admirably.
Old school Trekkies like me will not be disappointed with all the homages to the original, believe me.
The only weakness of the new Trek, and it is a big deal, is Eric Bana is a very weak villian. He's not the best actor out there, and his attempts to bring any charisma to Nero fails miserably.
It was nice to see Clifton Clifton Gonzalez Gonzalez Jr in a big budget film again. he's one of my fave supporting actors.

Live long and prosper, bitches.

Cinema Critique, Light.

2009-05-02T12:43:00.000-07:00

Sweet knees! It's been almost a month to the day since my last post. Unfortunate because I promised reviews for no less than 3 films. Sad thing is, I've had nothing on my plate for the last 30 days, save for some self loathing, a busted cardiac muscle and a renewed addiction to online poker. You can find me at the tables on Facebook and mySpace, if you want to find me.
In the interest of saving time, I'm trying something new. Rather than give a full summary and analysis ("full" being what full is by my standards) I want to kill 2 birds with one stone with brief, diluted overviews and general thoughts on the films I promised for you.
So, pardon the experiment and the tardiness as I give you, "Turzman's Cinema Critique, Light."

Prophecy (1979)
starring Robert Foxworth, Talia Shire, Armand Assante
written by David Seltzer
directed by John Frankenheimer

This is a film I have wanted to watch since I saw the trailers on TV back in '79, but never did until just recently when it quietly made its way to the top of my Netflix queue. I can say with certainty I wish I had seen this film before now. This gem has been lost in the obscurity wake of the Jaws ripoffs, despite the clever marketing that failed to mention its monster was a killer, mutated bear. I can only surmise that once word of mouth leaked out the word, "bear" people thought Grizzly and, by extension, Jaws, whose clones had grown tiresome by 1979. People simply lost interest. It's a shame, too because Prophecy offers commendable performances from the principle actors, is executed well enough by the masterful director John Frankenheimer and tweaks its premise enough to separate itself from the flagrant ripoffs. Still, it's a Jaws cousin, once removed and has its share of flaws.
Inner city doctor Robert Verne (Foxworth) is sent to Maine to settle a land dispute between a tribe of Native Americans and lumberjacks working for a paper mill. Now, a medical doctor is hardly qualified to settle land disputes, so why would the American government send a physician to do so? The short answer is, they wouldn't, except it's necessary for the plot later on. Also, there is no way said doctor would drag along his wife (Talia Shire), who doesn't even want to go, on such an excursion but he does. Why? Because unbeknownst to the doctor, she's pregnant, and that's important for the plot later on.
Before the doctor can mediate, he is intrigued by the over-agressive behavior of a raccoon that breaks into their cabin and attacks him and his wife. So he starts to study the local animal and plant life. Instead of mediating the land dispute. Based on the behavior of one raccoon. "Focus, Doctor!"
Anyway, long story short- the doctor figures out that the local animalia and botanica are being mutated because the eeeeeeeviiiiiil paper mill is dumping toxic chamicals into the lake. Only a doctor could have figured this out, which is why a doctor was sent in the first place. Get it? He also determines that this particular mutation process is immediate, rather than taking generations, like a regular mutation. Mrs. Verne hears this, after eating tainted fish from the tainted lake and realizes it means her baby will be born a mutation. Which is why a pregnant woman had to be dragged along on the trip. To add drama to the story. Get it? Oh well...
The lapses in reason take a back seat to how much fun Prophecy is to watch. Also, the film has one of the most memorable and creative death scenes I've ever seen. For your enjoyment, "The Exploding Sleeping Bag."

Oh yeah, baby.

The Midnight Meat Train (2008)
starring Bradley Cooper, Vinnie Jones, Leslie Bibb
written by Jeff Buhler (screenplay), Clive Barker (short story)
directed by Ryuhei Kitamura

I don't know how often it's been done, but The Midnight Meat Train is an example of excellent execution of a very, very stupid idea. I must make it a point to someday read Clive Barker's source material just to see how much of the story's utter nonsense is actually his fault.
A secret society is over-seeing the slaughter of innocent, unsuspecting subway passengers for the purpose of feeding humanoid monsters dwelling beneath the unnamed metropolis in which this story takes place (My first guess would be New York, based on the surface scenery. But the film shows none of the familiar landmarks and I didn't recognize any of the station names). Their sole enforcer is a big, mysterious, brutish mute named Mahogany (Vinnie Jones) who spends the waning hours of each morning murdering and skinning people in preparation for the demon feast, all on the in-service subway car. Down on his luck photographer Leon (Bradley Cooper) makes it a point to take pictures of "real people" and crosses paths with Mahogany, stumbling upon his bloody secret. A crazy cat and mouse hunt ensues. Not a bad idea, but in order for it to work, someone should have explained some basic, general facts to the production team in order to avoid errors in both logic and physics. For example, knowing how a train works would have helped these people not come across as idiots.
Again, the city never gets named, but having spent a fair amount of time on the New York City subway system, I can make some general obervances about the titular choo-choo in TMMT. People who like this film may choose to ignore the following, but that says more about them than me for not ignoring it...

What Mahogany does requires an insane amount of privacy. Even in the middle of the night, big-city subways have too many commuters to make the events in TMMT even possible, never mind plausible. Even by Hollywood Logic standards. Strike one.

There is no such thing as an "abandoned station" on any rail system in any city in all the world. Yet TMMT features dozens, when convenient to the plot. Even stations that are not in commuter use are still used by transit authorities to house equipment, vehicles, tools, etc. There would be both employees and guards in and out at all times. Yes, even at night. Strike two.

It seems this train only stops to pick up one passenger at a time, and then speeds non stop while Mahogany does his work, bypassing station upon station. And that's fine, most communter rail systems offer an express line to ease passenger congestion. But if Mahogany's train isn't express, it would catch up to the car in front of it, causing nothing but headaches for the bad guys. If it is an express line, modern technology allows authorities to locate any car at any time. It is not possible for an anonymous car to speed along unnoticed. If the train deviated in any way from its route or timetable, it would raise red flags with the controller, and if smeone wanted to find this train, they would know exactly where to look and when. There is no way in hell these people could have gotten away with what they're doing for as long as the film purports. In a word, it's impossible. Strike three.

If a city has a transportation system, it has a police department with a transportation division. Every subway has police sub stations throughout the system. Cops patrol the subways. So even if someone from the general public like Leon were never to accidentally find out what's going on, the police would. You can believe what you want, but not every cop is dirty, and not every cop is a member of this secret society. They would have been busted at some point. Strike four.

Finally, and this is the biggest faux pau in TMMT's logic, the climax takes place in a cavernous sub section of the city that apparantly no one knows exists. This is where the beasties live and eat, and Mahogany's work sees fruition. It's supposed to be "off the grid," but that would mean there are no tracks. If there are no tracks, there can be no train and yet, there it is, in plain sight throughout the film's endgame. Strike five.

TMMT fails on so many levels it's insulting, but its merits are great. Visually, this film is very effective and is testament to director Ryuhei Kitamura. His style is so cool that when watching, the plot holes almost go unnoticed. Vinnie Jones' silent performance as Mahogany is creepy and scary and he is the film's stand out performer. Also, there are great performances from Brooke Shields and Peter Jacobson in supporting roles.
Watch this film for a lesson in film making, or to be creeped out. Just don't expect it to make much sense.

That's all for now. In my next review, I'll explain why Quantum of Solace is not the worst film in the James Bond franchise, and why JCVD is the best film of Jean Claude Van-Damme's career.

G'nite.

Coming Attractions...

2009-04-02T00:52:00.000-07:00

Loyal readers drooling for another film critique need only wait a couple or three days. Coming soon to Turzman Dot Com, my reviews of Prophecy (1979) and 2008's Midnight Meat Train.
My notes are in shorthand and need only to be transposed to Microsoft Word.

Warming up in the bullpen is a stack of rentals from Netflix I haven't gotten around to watching yet, because I'm catching up on the early years of Law & Order and an old favorite, The Odd Couple. Down the road are The Petrified Forest (1936, supposedly Bogey's breakthrough performance), Let the Right One In because of a glowing endorsement from Captain Youngblood, aka Brendan Morrisey over at Karma Critic. and for all you 007 freaks, there will be Quantum of Solace, the Bond franchise's first direct sequel and a film I refuse to believe to be the worst 007, as long as any featuring Timothy Dalton and *gasp* Pierce Brosnan still exist.

In the interim I suggest you watch this performance of "Open" from Queensryche:

End transmission.

"I need to forget her face, I see it still."

2009-03-30T00:13:00.000-07:00

I always love it when women complain about men. I've heard the same story told by dozens of different girls. "men are pigs," etc.
Well let the record show that women aren't exactly the most humanitarian of all the species. I've seen girls turn off their emotions like a light switch. It's amazing, actually; it's a sign that women are truly emotionally superior to men because they control theirs so much better.
Women think men are unreliable scum. Men think women are insane with irrepairable mental damage. They're both right. Allow me to simplify: we all suck, and when our end finally comes, it will be the most merciful of all acts our creator can do for us. Or to us, whatever.

Marlon Brando said it best in Guys and Dolls- "Women are only good when you need them, like a cough drop."
Feel free to quote any random feminist with a deplorable opinion of men. It's probably accurate.

I Don't Believe in Love. I never have, I never will.

HBO is playing The Last Starfighter. I'm obligated to watch, so go away and hold all my calls.

Jedi Master Yoda says, "When eight hundred years old you become, understand women you will. Possibly."

Internet addict Pornocat says, "Aw, it sounds like Turz got stood up again."

Chicken-infatuated muppet Gonzo the Great says, "Have you ever considered humping chickens?"

The Inglorious Bastards (1978)

2009-03-23T17:50:00.002-07:00

The Inglorious Bastards (1978)
starring: Bo Svenson, Fred Williamson, Peter Hooten, Michael Pergolani
written by: Sandro Continenza, Sergio Grieco, Franco Marotta, Romano Migliorini, & Laura Toscano (geeeeez!)
directed by: Enzo G. Castellari

It’s war-torn Europe during WWII and a group of American military prisoners are being shipped to prison for a variety of offences. En route, their convoy is attacked by German artillery, killing the MP’s and all but four of the transported (Bo Svenson, Fred Williamson, Peter Hooten and Michael Pergolani). They escape the attack and figure the best course of action is to get to neutral Switzerland to avoid both the fighting and prison. However, they end up joining a Commando mission to help the French Resistance steal a German warhead being transported on a train.

Okay, Charles Bronson, Lee Marvin, John Cassavetes, Telly Savales, Jim Brown. Oh. Wait a minute...

I know I promised this review weeks ago, due largely to the fact that Quentin Tarantino’s next project is a remake of it. But after seeing this film, and after reading synopses on Tarantino’s version on IMDB, it’s looking like it’s a remake in title only. The mis-spelling not withstanding. Regardless, I offer apologies for my tardiness. Let me say that my enthusiasm was curbed after watching this Italian knock-off from director Enzo Castellari. Not that this is a bad movie, mind you. To the contrary, The Inglorious Bastards is a very ambitious production with commendable performances from Svenson and Williamson. No expense was spared as the props and costumes look very authentic, both American and German, and that includes the vehicles. Only the most stringent of military history enthusiasts will recognize the German Panzer tanks are actually American Pershings painted battle-grey, but other than that everything looks great. I could rave on how authentic the locations are, but the barest minimal of research shows that 70’s era Italy didn’t look unlike WWII era European countrysides. Nonetheless, the look and feel of Bastards is very authentic, for 70’s Italian exploitation film.

"Hi there. Exploit yourself much?"

The problem I have with The Inglorious Bastards is it’s too easy to see where the producers got their inspiration, and made no effort whatsoever to cover their tracks. And that’s all fine and dandy. This is, after all, an Italian knock off. But it’s frustrating to see that it could have been more. Ergo, a tangent, if I may…

1978 was the same year American International Pictures (AIP) and Columbia Pictures released Force Ten from Navarone, the eagerly anticipated sequel to the epic The Guns of Navarone, both of which were based on the acclaimed novels of the same titles by Alistair MacLean. Force Ten boasted big name talent in Robert Shaw, Harrison Ford, Carl Weathers, Barbara Bach, Richard Kiel and Franco Nero so it was obvious AIP was trying to replicate the success of The Dirty Dozen, whose popularity was still resonating a decade after its release.

"Shush, shush. Look over there. They're shooting 'Force Ten from Navarone.' Watch and learn..."

Films Concorde wanted to ride the wave AIP intended to make with Force Ten, so somebody read MacLean’s Force Ten novel, combined it with The Dirty Dozen, “borrowed” the motorcycle chase from The Great Escape and threw in the train sequence from the climax of Von Ryan’s Express for good measure. After that, it was only a matter of recruiting recognizable names to carry out the action onscreen. Enter Bo Svenson and Fred Williamson, two staples in exploitation cinema and Films Concorde had their military opus.

No, Steve McQueen did NOT do the stunts in this film.

Thus endeth the tangent. To end this review, I recommend The Inglorious Bastards to those who appreciate a good war picture because that’s what this is, a good war picture.

Daylight Savings Really Grinds My Gears

2009-03-08T22:11:00.000-07:00

Except for the one where I gain an hour's sleep. But the one yesterday sucked ass. Not only was I stuck at the taco factory till after midnight, I had to be back at 11:30 in the am today. After losing an hour's sleep.
What is it with this changing of the time, anyway? Whose stupid idea was it? And has he since been punished by having his toenails removed one at a time with tweezers? Effing jagoff.
I remember hearing somewhere at sometime that it has something to do with farming. If that's true, why the hell are the rest of us subjected to this unnecessary pain in the arse?
All those farmers have to do is train their stupid roosters to cock a doddle doo an hour earlier for six months. Or, they can enter the 19th century and invest in an alarm clock. Then the rest of us can live life without this aggravation. Thanks a lot, farming cocksuckers.

Speaking of cocksuckers, this video is of a guy named Juanes. That's spanish for Johnny. His song is called "Camisa Negra." That's spanish for black shirt. Pay no mind to the fact that he's wearing a white shirt during the performance.
Anyway, I hear this song three times a day, every day, at a certain Mexican Food dispensary. Maybe if I share, it will fade away...

To help recover from your case of the Juanes, here's a concert clip from Flotsam and Jetsam, because as you know, there really is no place for disgrace...

And from the "Girls I really, really wanna have sex with, but who wouldn't?" files, Ms. Briana Banks.

"My Name is Bruce"

2009-02-20T23:03:00.000-08:00

My Name is Bruce
starring Bruce Campbell, Ted Raimi, Taylor Sharpe
written by Mark Verheiden
directed by Bruce Campbell

With nothing better to do in the small town of Goldlick, Oregon, four teens decide to vandalize the local cemetery for kicks. As they traipse around smashing wooden headstones, Jeff (Taylor Sharpe) notices a gold medallion on one of the crypts. He steals it and accidentally releases a demon named Guan-Di (James J. Peck), the Chinese god of death. Jeff barely escapes with his life as Guan-Di slaughters his three friends.

Meanwhile in Tinseltown, Jeff’s favorite actor Bruce Campbell (himself) is on the set of his latest straight to DVD, low budget, B action cheese, Cave Alien 2. All is not well for our titular thespian, as his co-stars can’t stand him, the director is less than enthusiastic about the project, and the set runner likes to pee in Bruce’s water. To make matters worse, Bruce is still recovering from a recent divorce, and his agent (Ted Raimi) insists there is no credible work in the near future for him. But he does promise a big birthday surprise is on the way. By the way, Bruce’s agent is sleeping with his ex, unbeknownst to Bruce.

So Bruce retires to his run down trailer to drink himself into a lonely stupor (like me on my last birthday) when Jeff shows up. (Is it this easy to find any actor’s home address? I’d like to drop in on Gabrielle Anwar.) In Bruce’s drunken state, Jeff has little trouble subduing him, locking him in the trunk of his car and driving all the way to Goldlick. The denizens welcome the actor with open arms in anticipation that he can help fight the demon that now terrorizes their town.

Bruce sees this as a set up; the birthday surprise from his agent. A live action, personal appearance that promises some money and a different sort of publicity, so he takes full advantage of the town’s hospitality. He scarfs down pounds of barbeque ribs at the buffet in his honor, drinks a king’s ransom in beer, and helps himself to all weapons offered by the local sporting goods store. So Bruce leads the ragtag volunteer army of townsfolk to the cemetery for the climax of what he still believes is a show. Once he realizes Guan-Di is in fact, a real, vengeful demon, Bruce flees in cowardice, leaving his brethren behind to be slaughtered.

This was not Bruce Campbell’s first time directing, producing and certainly not acting. I assume he has a better feel for a good script or even a funny joke than me. So my biggest surprise while viewing My Name is Bruce was how Campbell signed off on this script. Obviously it’s not an original idea. We all remember 1986’s Three Amigos! which was moderately humorous and, at least in my memory, the first story that put fictional actors in a position where they had to portray their fictional, fictional characters in a fictional, real-life dangerous situation.

The concept reached funnier heights in 1999 with Galaxy Quest and has been revisited again by Jean-Claude Van Damme in JCVD. The only original tangent Bruce and JCVD took are, Campbell and Van Damme are portraying themselves, rather than fictional celebrities. I don’t know if JCVD is intended to be a comedy, my instincts tell me no, based on what I’ve read. My Name is Bruce tries to be funny, but fails badly. So I’ll ask again: why did Bruce Campbell look at this script and say “Let’s do it, baby.”?

Campbell’s career should supply enough source material to fill the gaps in this particular formula, but writer Mark Verheiden limits his pickings to Campbell’s trademark one-liners and makes the point to mention the title of every film Campbell has starred in. The one-liners were funny once, in a certain context when spoken by Campbell. But here, they are lazily peppered throughout the film without discernable rhyme or reason and are spoken by whichever random supporting character happens to be onscreen at the time.

I’m also disappointed in how Campbell portrays himself. The man is an icon in this wacky business and has a strong cult following. He has no trouble getting work, and is actually currently doing a great job on TV’s Burn Notice, one of TV’s most popular shows on air. But to imagine a world (albeit fictional) where he lives in a run down trailer, is hated by his peers and is a sloppy, downtrodden drunk is very depressing. So right from the start, there is a “feel-bad” feel to the film whether you like Bruce Campbell or not. Add to the fact that he’s supposedly gullible enough to believe the rubes of Goldlick see him as a savior doesn’t exactly paint a flattering picture of our hero, either.

The townsfolk aren’t exactly a gaggle of brain surgeons, although they do understand that this is not really the “Ash” from the Evil Dead movies (and this is the only other point that makes Bruce different from Three Amigos! and Galaxy Quest). They recognize and understand Campbell is not really a demon fighting super hero, but rather plays one in the movies. But yet they still believe him qualified to do exactly that? Stupid rubes.

Which brings me to the demon, Guan-Di. Visually he’s neither menacing nor even impressive. It’s obvious he’s a Chinese god, as he’s dressed in ceremonial Chinese warrior armor, sports a big sword, and has a fu-manchu mustache (thus making the musical back-story of Guan-Di from the balladeering mayor [Ben McCain] and sheriff [Tim Quill, I think] as completely unnecessary as it is unentertaining). The costume is not scary despite the red glowing eyes. In short, Guan-Di looks like a doofus. He also loses scary points when we discover that the Chinese god of death moonlights as the Chinese god of bean curd (!). Yes, bean curd. A stupid plot device dumped on us early to facilitate a quick resolution during the end game later on. Means to an end, as it were.

But Guan-Di’s dopiness gives Campbell the director a chance to shine, and he shows some prowess. Guan-Di’s onscreen moments are shot in a way that almost fully negates the unimpressive costume through varying angles, creative lighting and use of fog machine. Still, one can’t help but laugh out loud at first glimpse of the bad guy. Honestly, he’s not scary at all, but the gore in his killings effectively demonstrate how eeeeviiiilll Guan-Di is, so mission accomplished. The overall look of the film is tight and the production designers deserve props for the cool-looking cemetery and quaint-looking town of Goldlick.

As far as performances go, let’s just say that whoever did the casting should be hung. The only shining star is Ted Raimi (!) as he takes three different roles, all of which are implemented admirably by the “other” Raimi, and of course, Campbell is Campbell. After that nobody is memorable.

We all owe something to Bruce Campbell for the oodles of entertainment he’s provided. So if renting My Name is Bruce puts a little extra coin in his pocket, do it. Just don’t expect a lot of entertainment value, or even laughs for your buck.

Coming soon to Turzman central:
my critique of The Inglorious Bastards (1978).

NOT coming soon to Turzman Central:
My critique of Attack of the Killer Tomatoes.

I watched it for the first time last night and I wondered, "What the f*ck's the big deal about this sh*tty movie?"

Can someone explain it to me?

Post Birthday Sobriety

2009-02-16T14:47:00.000-08:00

The haze has lifted, and although I am still bitter about my birthday and Valentines Day, etc, I am obligated to publicly thank two wonderful ladies.
First, my good friend Tams who, of all the people I know was the only one to contact me for b-day greetings, save the Facebook and MySpace comments. So on that dreary night when, through a scotch induced fog of self pity, Tams appeared to me via e-mail and we chatted for about an hour. She brought me up out of the dumps.
The other lady dear to my heart is the lovely KT, who would have called me on my birthday had she not had to work all night that night. But we have been chatting almost nightly and if not for her, I don't think I would believe it were possible for women to have souls.

The most important lesson I learned last weekend?
Some people actually care.

So in honor of Tams & KT, I post this picture of a P-51C Mustang that I built all by myself...

While I'm at it, here is a picture of my magnificent Carcaradon Megalodon tooth...

And my non store-bought, home made birthday cake...

Internet addict PornoCat says, "I chat with women every night so I don't get what the big deal is. And at only $2.99 a minute, it's still cheaper than dinner and a movie."

Amity Island Harbor Master Frank Silva says, "I'm not interested in a woman unless she has fins, gills and a belly full of roe that can get me at least $7.00 a pound at the fish market."

I've got a date with the Odd Couple

2009-02-14T22:37:00.000-08:00

First of all, I'd like to wish everyone a belated Happy Friday the 13th. As for Valentine's Day, everyone can f*ck off!
That's right, f*ck off and kiss my ass while you're at it.
You see, V-day is also my B-day, and as cool as that may sound to you feeble minds, let me enlighten you to the fact that it is, in reality a curse.

It's my birthday, I just got off work, and instead of having passionate sex with someone of the female pursuasion, I will be watching disc 2 of The Odd Couple, season one.

That's right kids, my Valentine / Birthday booty call is Oscar, Felix and a bottle of Dewar's White Label.

Studly, no?

Face it, you don't want to hear my theory of women, Valentine's Day, and men whose birthday falls on said Hallmark creation. It's quite negative, but let's just say I have every right to be bitter.

It's time to get my buzz on. Actually I started already. It's time to hurt myself.
Allow me to share some badd-ass vids...

Bad Religion performing Broken.

This is the only live performance from Los Infernos I could find on the Net-

This super-awesome Star Trek trailer-

And just for the hell of it, some more Bad Religion, LIVE.

"Eternity, my friends, is a long f*cking time."

piece,

turz

I was murdered last night...

2009-01-30T14:14:00.000-08:00

...onscreen that is. The big screen.
On a Dark and Stormy Night premiered to a sold out audience last night at the Krikorian Premiere Theater in Redlands, Ca. It was well recieved. Overall, last night was, in a word, triumphant.

Rather than bore you with with a blow by blow account of the evening, check out these pix of the after party at Mikan Teppan House and the after-after party at Denny's at 2 in the morning.

Guardian of the Universe, Gamera says, "Big deal. Did you beat down on any giant monsters in defense of the Universe last night? I didn't think so. You want to impress me? Defeat Guiron or the Gyaos'. Then get back to me for your medal, tough guy."

Amity Island Harbor Master Frank Silva says, "I know it was your big night, Turz. And I know this is your website, but did you have to post pictures of yourself? There seemed to be a lot of pretty women there, and you post pictures of yourself. Selfish vanity, Mr. Turz."

Internet addict PornoCat says, "Were there any pretty cats at the premiere? If not, can I find pictures of the girls who were there topless on the Net?"

Gold digging hussie REDSEXGODDESS says, "You didn't send me an invitation. Could you at least send me some money?"

The impatient ghost of Robert Shaw says, "Why the bloody hell am I here?"

A Dark & Stormy premiere

2009-01-26T01:10:00.000-08:00

Note: this post has been edited by the Department of Stormy Protection

We are officially in Butterfly Mode here at Turzman Dot Com. The world premiere for On a Dark and Stormy Night is only three days away and I'm proud to say that the show had sold out almost two weeks ago. The movie that I had given up for dead, thinking it would never play on a big screen, will play at the Krikorian in Redlands, barring any last minute, ***** *********.

*sentence deleted*

If I may add to what little pride I have left, I'd like to announce that Stormy Night has been slated for two screenings on the campus of the illustrious California State University at San Bernardino. Seeing as how three of the film's participants are alumni, there will be a Q & A session after both screenings. Yes, I was asked and accepted to be on both panels. I'm almost duty-bound, seeing as how my diploma (signed by the Governator himself) has the CSUSB logo stamped on it somewhere.
It is a small honor, and I'm proud to be a part.
Now, if the powers that be can finally **** **** ***** *** ******** *** **...

To recap, the Krikorian premiere is January 29, and the two Cal State screenings will be Thursday and Friday, February 5 & 6 at noon.

No comments from any of the regular crazies, but rather a random picture from this unfamiliar computer...

"Dear Lord, I am thankful that I ended up in this home and NOT Michael Vick's"

Turzman: OUT.

"Cannibal Women in the Avocado Jungle of Death"

2009-01-19T13:17:00.000-08:00

starring Shannon Tweed, Bill Maher, Karen Mistal, Adrienne Barbeau
written & directed by J.F. Lawton

I’ve been sitting on this film for over a week, and I know I promised a review of Cannibal Women in the Avocado Jungle of Death. After viewing however, I was tempted to NOT critique it because it wasn’t the film I thought it would be. It’s not the teat-laden, B-cheese I thought, but rather a political satire. I suppose the writing was on the wall, seeing that the male lead features Bill Maher. In the 80’s, when everyone and their neighbor was a stand up comedian, Maher was moderately successful as a satirist. The top biller, Shannon Tweed is also out of place, as her career was comprised mostly of “sexual thrillers.” She did very little comedy and even less satire, so needless to say, I was perplexed. I decided to view the film based on the merits of its title alone, and I learned its simple yet poignant lesson; extremism bad, equality good. Although that lesson is learned from exposition peppered throughout the film, rather than through the actual plot. But the plot is so ridiculous and simplistic, that almost any generic sub-cabal may be inserted without inhibiting its integrity and serves the purpose of padding the run time to the required feature length.

"Do my bling and chest hairs impress you?"

The nation’s avocado supply is running dangerously low and somehow, this seriously endangers national security (?). Wait, it gets better. There is an ample supply of avocados in California’s Avocado Jungle, which is a vast Amazonian-like area stretching from Bakersfield to the Mexican border (?). Wait, there’s more. Said jungle is inhabited by a cannibalistic, scantily-clad gaggle of cover girls known as the Piranha Women who aren’t privy to outsiders coming for their avocados so they eat trespassers. But Americans need their guacamole, so the government sends in the military, which is swiftly defeated and eaten (by bikini girls with bows and arrows!). The department of National Security approaches feminist college professor Dr. Margo Hunt (Tweed) to go into the jungle with two objectives;

a) a deal with the Piranhas. Their jungle and all the avocados in exchange for relocation to condominiums in Malibu. And
b) to find out what happened to the last feminist college professor who went in with the same objective, Dr. Kurtz (Adrienne Barbeau).

"Tee-hee. I'm pretty. Tee-hee."

Dr. Hunt and her trustworthy, bubble-headed sidekick Bunny (Karen Mistal) travel to that vile place of scum and villainy, San Bernardino to hire a tracker. Coincidentally, they hire Margo’s ex, Jim (Maher) to lead them into the jungle, where they eventually find out why the Piranha Women have no interest in outsiders other than as appetizers.

Ah, political satire. That gem of a genre whose average tenure of staying power is about six months, depending on the subject’s topicality timeliness. Let’s face it, once a news item is no longer getting headlines, even the lowest brow of humor will ignore it. But some subjects will tend to resonate a little longer than most, depending on the tenacity of its advocacy. Feminism is such a topic, and the target of Cannibal Women, but the movie was made back in 1989. It’s not exactly at the top of everyone’s “to do” list, so Netflix cleverly marketed it as titty-laden B-cheese. It worked in my case, probably because I’m a sucker for titty-laden B-cheese. So you can imagine my surprise when I realized this was not only tit free (save for the extended scenes of nekkidness during the titles), but it also had a pretty significant message. Significant, at least, to someone who cares about feminism. I do not.
It’s not that I’m insensitive to the plight of the modern woman. I just don’t care. I got enough problems of my own, being a heterosexual white male in this day and age, the deck is stacked against me a little more each day. So, my apologies, ladies. I can offer this comfort; Cannibal Women is a funny film and I recommend it.

"Wait a minute, why are you putting vegetables in my bath water?"

Despite being dated by production quality and feel, feminism is still topical, and all the stereotypes are represented. Maher as the male-chauvinist, trying to represent as the Indiana Jones-clone, jungle guide. He would have you believe that the success of the mission lives and dies on his back. But his incompetence as a guide force him to play second banana to the intelligence of Tweed’s Dr. Hunt, or the film’s version of “the good lesbian” (although her character is not lesbian) with the pants-suit and her “everyone should be seen as equal / live and let live” attitude. This is the contrast to “the bad lesbian” representation in the Piranha Women and their man-hating, bitchy, bull dikey presuppositions (ironically displayed here as centerfold babes in loin cloth). Finally there’s Bunny as the materialistic dipshit stereotype that all feminists hate seeing women portrayed as, but the film’s stance on her is unclear. Hunt brings this obviously unqualified bottom-feeder along to show her the ways of moderate feminism, but Bunny gravitates to the more extreme, wanting to join the Piranha Women for the sole reason that she thinks loin cloth is quite fashionable. And in the end, she winds up marrying Jim, who never changes his chauvinistic ways despite being duped by the Piranhas and outdone by Dr. Hunt. You may analyze that sequence as you see fit and draw any conclusion, but I don’t think the film expects that much effort from its viewers.
Cannibal Women has its share of memorable moments (the scene where Jim introduces beer to the pussified, indigenous male inhabitants of the jungle is worth the rental alone), and the performances are credible. Fans of Adrienne Barbeau may be disappointed as she has little more than a cameo, but fans of Shannon Tweed will be pleased as she is surprisingly good as the sole serious, straight faced character amongst the chaotic slapstick.
Cannibal Women in the Avocado Jungle of Death is a wonderful compliment to a six pack of suds and your munchies of choice. (Bong rips wouldn’t hurt, either.) If you need to kill an evening, there are worse ways to do it.

Confused pugilist Jiffy Jeff says, "Duh, I thought that guy from Real Time only talked about the president and stuff."

Barney Miller explains bigotry-

Zorg explains chaos-

Robin Williams explains golf-

and Flotsam and Jetsam perform "Swatting at Flies"-

and from the "Girls I really, really want to have sex with but who wouldn't?" files, Swan, aka Justine Joli.

Barney Miller, Season 2 on DVD NOW!

2009-01-14T01:17:00.000-08:00

That's right, as I sit and type this waste of time, disc 1 awaits me in my player, courtesy of Netflix. It's 1 am, I can't sleep, and I'm blogging on somebody else's PC. So don't expect any original images or comments from my cast of regulars.

Coming soon to Turzman Dot Com:

My review of Cannibal Women in the Avocado Jungle of Death.

No shit. It's a real movie starring Shannon Tweed and Bill Maher. You won't want to miss my critique of this lost gem from 1989.

I was gonna review a shark flick called Marina Monster but it was so bad it made me want to gouge my eyeballs out with a spoon.
God, I wish some people didn't make movies.

Well, the boys at the 12th precinct are waiting, so I will quickly search for a random image off this unfamiliar computer and comment on it.
Stand by...

Okay. This is a picture of bread racks.
Please note the bread.
It's amazing what one may find while trolling other people's computers.

It's a god damned bread rack.

peace

Nappy Booze Seer

2009-01-08T12:24:00.000-08:00

Time is running out, get your tickets NOW.

Made in the Shade & Bulletproof Pictures present
A BRIAN JOSEPH OCHAB production
of a film by EZEQUIEL

JUAN RIEDINGER starring in
On a Dark and Stormy Night

co-starring Aaron Massey, Tamela D'Amico, Mike Tursi, Eva-Maria Leonardou, Adrian Quihuis & introducing Anna Ward and Marlies Pinto

January 29, 2009 @ 6:30 pm
Krikorian Premiere Theaters, Redlands Cinema 14
Redlands, California

Tix are $9.00 each and reservations made through e-mail only at
San_Diablo@sbcglobal.net
re: Stormy premiere

Slinging Tacos & Practicing my Spanish

2009-01-01T21:19:00.000-08:00

or "How I spent my New Years Eve."

Well that's about it. Not much more to say. It would also be a moot point for me to wish anyone a Happy New Year because no one could have had one worse than mine. It was, in a word, "dredge." Is that even a word?

My January day one wasn't much better. Eight and a half hours of non stop customer service, and I came home to find that I missed one of my all time favorite motion pictures; Them!

If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it. James Arness and James Whitmore fighting giant, mutated ants.

Simply bad-ass.

So I missed it, save the last five minutes. Life is such a tease. Right now I'm watching Basil Rathbone play Sherlock Holmes in a film called Terror by Night. Don't you wish you lived my life?

It's not all that bad, actually. In fact, if you were me, you would be posting cool sh*t from the 80's like this live performance of Mexican Radio from Wall of Voodoo -

Admit it; there are times when the Turzman most definitely rules.

Gold-digging hussie REDSEXGODDESS says, "If you rule so much, why did you stop giving me money? Did you forget that if you give me money, I take my clothes off?"

The impatient ghost of Robert Shaw says, "If that bloody video is any indication of what music was like in the 80's, I'm glad I died before having to live through such rubbish."

Hey, I could have posted something from A Flock of Seagulls. But even I have standards in times of desperation.

Oh, what the hell. You Can Run. Enjoy.

"Yes Man"

2008-12-30T13:51:00.000-08:00

Yes Man (2008)
starring Jim Carrey, Zooey Deschanel, Bradley Cooper, Rhys Darby, Terrence Stamp
written by Nicholas Stoller, Jarrad Paul, Andrew Mogul
based on the book by Danny Wallace
directed by Peyton Reed

It’s truly a sad time when one can go to a movie theater in 2008, see Terrence Stamp onscreen, utter the phrase “Kneel before Zod!” and have no one around you get the reference (I swear, kids today have no idea what they’re missing). I experienced this dejection first-hand when I saw Stamp in a supporting role in the Jim Carrey vehicle, Yes Man. I saw Stamp and sprouted the Zod line to no audience reaction save a chuckle from my friend Zuke (and I’m not convinced she wasn’t just being polite. Thanks, Zuke. Love you.). Aside from that, my experience with Yes Man was quite enjoyable.

Yes Man is a comedy in the vein of Liar, Liar and Bruce Almighty; a ridiculous concept played for laughs without going over the top into the realm of slapstick. It’s not as funny or cleverly written as Liar, but it’s not as dopey as Bruce. Most importantly, it returns Carrey to his more familiar (and favorable) comedic talents. Let’s face it, after Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, I figured he would avoid drama. Then I saw The Number 23. I’m still scratching my head.

Anyway, Carl Allen, (Carrey) is a lonely loan officer with an insufferably friendly boss, Norman (Rhys Darby). Carl is a recluse who spends his evenings with rentals from Blockbuster, despite the continuous invitations to hang out from his buddies (Bradley Cooper & Danny Masterson). Why is Carl so lonely and reclusive? Because he still hasn’t gotten over his three year old divorce from Stephanie (Molly Sims).

Carl coincidentally stumbles across long lost friend Nick (John Michael Higgins) who convinces him to attend a “Just Say Yes” type of self-help seminar presided over by “Just Say Yes” self-help guru, Terrence Bundley (General Zod. Oops, I mean, Stamp). In a nutshell, Carl is convinced that the key to ending his depression is to trust the positive powers of saying “yes” and must do so to any proposition, no matter what the proposition is. Silly and fanciful? Oh hell, yes. As is evidenced in his first test where a homeless bum asks him to a) give him a ride to a place WAY out of the way, and b) use his cell phone to the point where the battery dies. Carl reluctantly says, you guessed it, “yes.”

The chain of events resulting in saying yes leads Carl to meet Allison (Zooey Deschanel), the script’s obligatory love interest. This spot of good fortune leads Carl to believe in the power of “yes,” and decides to do it more often. The results are, in a word, funny. Carl is enjoying life more than he ever did before, and he rides the “yes” wave until it crashes at the start of the third act. Well of course the good luck runs out. You know what they say about “all good things,” don’t you? Besides, conflict between boy and girl is as obligatory as a love interest in a story like this.

Said conflict is as ludicrous and unbelievable a plot device as I’ve ever seen, but not as much as the premise of the story to begin with, so it’s completely acceptable for the purposes of the comedy.

As for the comedy, if Jim Carrey ain’t your bag, than neither is Yes Man, for all the comedy in the film stems from Carrey’s Carl Allen. However, the supporting players feed off Carrey to the letter, and the laughs are genuine. Deschanel is nothing special, but considering it took a team of three screenwriters (Nicholas Stoller, Jarrad Paul & Andrew Mogul) to convert Danny Wallace’s book to screenplay, I can surmise that the bulk of rewrites were to change the character of Allison to better suit the limited talent of Deschanel after she was cast. They succeed to a degree, but it’s still Zooey Deschanel, and her signature cute, left of center quirkiness gets old about midway through the second act.

Peyton Reed directs Carrey as well as anyone else has. And when I say “direct,” I mean let Carrey use the script as inspiration for his improvisations. It works, but I reiterate, Jim Carrey is an acquired taste. So if you’re avoiding this movie simply because of who has top billing, fine. Just wait three years for Yes Man to be on cable TV. There’s not too much cursing, so you won’t lose much in translation, save for annoying commercial breaks. Then get back to me.

Amity Island Harbor Master Frank Silva says, "I can understand why Turz didn't appreciate Number 23 or Spotless Mind. They're artsy-fartsy films for a more sophisticated crowd. Like harbor masters, dock workers and trash collectors."

Here is one of the coolest live performances youTube has in its brain-dead collective. Jenny Says from Cowboy Mouth-

Turzman: out.

Embrace of the Vampire

2008-12-24T09:38:00.000-08:00

Embrace of the Vampire (1995)
starring Alyssa Milano, Martin Kemp, Harold Pruett, Rachel True
written by Nicole Coady, Rick Bitzelberger and Halle Eaton
directed by Anne Goursaud

All this talk of Twilight lately has left a bad taste in my mouth. Quite frankly, the Vampire genre disgusts me right now. In an attempt to rekindle my appreciation for Bloodsuckers, I sought comfort from the erotic side of the fang. I rented two classics and one not-so-classic that promised hot, naked vamps engaging in (mostly) lesbian sex. The problem with horror-erotica is, the erotica almost always takes a back seat to the horror, and I find nothing sexy about gore. Historically, the vampire genre has been able to mix the two effectively, because of all that romanticism associated with the tragedy in being a vampire. But there is more than a fine line between a trickle of blood dripping slowly down past the bosom of a beautiful damsel, and smearing blood all over the place like a kindergarten finger-painting session. I might be the minority here, but I have a hard time maintaining wood when I see a lot of blood.

The three flicks I watched were, 1970’s Vampyros Lesbos (which made no sense), 1974’s Vampyres (aka Dracula’s Daughters, which made even less sense) and 1994’s Embrace of the Vampire. It is the latter that chose discretion as the better part of valor with blood spillage and the one I chose to review, despite the other two being considered classics in three separate sub-genres, uniformly (Vampires, Erotica and 70’s Exploitation Cinema). Ironically, it’s also the worst of the bunch.

Embrace is essentially a watered-down retelling of Bram Stoker’s epic. A man (Martin Kemp) is forced to abandon his love for a princess (Rebecca Ferratti) after he’s turned into a vampire by three naked, nymph-like woodland bloodsuckers as he sleeps in the forest (?). Our poor tragic figure (who never gets named, by the way) aimlessly wanders the planet miserably for hundreds of years until he stumbles across what he believes to be the reincarnated soul of his princess in virginal, college freshman Charlotte (Alyssa Milano). So Mr. Vampire spends the bulk of the film trying to create distrust between Charlotte and her horny but patient boyfriend, Chris (Harold Pruett) so they’ll break up and Charlotte will willingly give up her cherry to the vamp. And that’s about it. Sound familiar?

Embrace is not the typical erotica illustration, so maybe it’s not fair to lump it with those other films, but Embrace of the Vampire does offer one unique element that I wish more films would implement; Alyssa Milano nekkid. Quite often, in fact, thus fulfilling a fantasy I’ve had since the early 1980’s. Now that that’s out of my system, on with the review.

Not that there’s much to say except, this movie stinks. The main plot is as simple as stated above, and Milano is unconvincing as a sainty, “I won’t screw till I’m married” type of girl. The outfit is stereotypical, with knee high socks, conservative sweater, and cross on a necklace. The only thing missing is a rosary. Milano just doesn’t sell it. I suppose one can argue she’s been typecast, I mean has she played anything close to innocent since Who’s the Boss? Nothing comes to mind.

The biggest disappointment in this film is the titular fang-face. To be blunt, Martin Kemp plays the most uninteresting, uninspiring vampire I’ve ever seen. For a guy who’s finally found his long lost love after a few centuries, his attempts to bag her can best be described as “lazy.” He doesn’t do anything to so much as seduce or trick Charlotte as he does to simply annoy the piss out of her. When she’s asleep, Mr. Vampire comes in, strips her and begins to rape her until she wakes, where he disappears, leading her to believe she was dreaming. And when she’s awake, he’ll just show up and start talking. When she responds, he disappears just in time for others around to turn, see her talking out loud, and wonder who the hell she’s talking to. Real smooth you undead shithead.

To round up the rest of the players, Chris the boyfriend is a poorly written moron, and Charlotte’s two best girlfriends are stereotypes stolen verbatim from a thousand other scripts; the good friend (Rachel True) and the bitchy friend (Jordan Ladd).
The subplot involving a photographer (Charlotte Lewis) who entices Charlotte into lesbian experimentation (just like all cross-bearing, knee-bending, God-fearing, Jesus-freaky saints are prone to do) makes absolutely no sense. It contradicts the character the film makers are purporting Charlotte to be and serves little purpose other than padding out the run time to a tortoise-like 93 minutes and excuses Alyssa Milano to take her top off again (yay!).

Now, because it’s mildly important, I take this time to mention that Embrace of the Vampire was written by Nicole Coady, Rick Bitzelberger and Halle Eaton, and directed by Anne Goursaud.

Who?

Exactly.

Guardian of the Universe Gamera says, "At least this movie has a true vampire, unlike Dracula's Daughters where the ladies are not only NOT related to Dracula, but are not even vampires. They're just ghosts that haunt a particular castle and like to drink blood."

Gold-digging hussie REDSEXGODDESS says, "So what if Alyssa Milano takes her clothes off? I'll take my clothes off if you give me some money."

And on a completely unrelated note, enjoy Billy Joel performing "I Go to Extremes" LIVE from Yankee Stadium.

And from the Girls I really really wanna have sex with, but who wouldn't files, Kyla Cole.

2008-12-18T17:09:00.000-08:00

Great news, everyone. "On a Dark and Stormy Night" finally has a premiere date. No shit this time, either. I'm told this is set in stone.
Thursday, January 29, 7:00 pm.
The Krikorian Theater, Redlands, CA.

I know a lot of you wanted to come to the premiere when it was supposed to be last April, so I'm putting this out there for anyone still interested.

Tickets must be purchased through the director, Ezequiel. Cost is general admission. ($9.00)
Just type "Stormy Premiere" in the heading so he knows you're not spam. Tell him Turzman sent ya the invite. Here's his e-mail addy-

San_Diablo@sbcglobal.net

"this first screening only holds 120 asses. so get your tix now!
and don't forget to visit
www.OnADarkAndStormyNightMovie.com "

The impatient ghost of Robert Shaw says, "Last April? What the hell was the bloody delay? Did your shark not work, either?"

A spot of good fortune.

2008-12-16T18:51:00.000-08:00

Okay. So I can no longer completely loathe a certain coffee dispensary that formerly held me in its employ. I mean, it would directly violate the laws of Karma. You see, my funds are nearly depleted despite having worked 13 of the last 14 days at my new gig. The money's all but dried up. Then, out of nowhere, my good friend Nathan came over and said there was a bag of unclaimed tip money in my name.
No joke, there was $50 awaiting me. Fifty mutha-humpin' greenbacks! So I swallow a bit of pride and give a half-masted Turzman Salute to, *sighs* Sta***cks.
I can't do it. So I'm weak.

Anyway, about that fifty smackers...

I celebrated by treating myself to a churro. $1.03 after my employee discount.

Celebrate with me by doing the Hanky Panky.

And now, a song that is "slightly more fun that being stung by a scorpion."
Flots Till Death, bitches.

Internet addict PornoCat says, "On a side note, can anyone help Turz and I find some decent quality Reverend Horton Heat videos online anywhere? Thanks, meow."