Freejack (Geoff Murphy, 1992)

We've all been there. You're staring at your twenty year-old girlfriend, when all of a sudden, this kooky thought trickles through your mind: Why can't my twenty year-old girlfriend be a sexy woman pushing forty? I'm no math whiz, but you're going to have wait fifteen maybe twenty years for that to happen. But what if I told you there was a way speed up the milfication of your twenty year-old girlfriend? All you have to do is become a race car driver in, let's say, 1991, and hope Mick Jagger and Esai Morales decide to zap your body to 2009 just before the car you're driving explodes into a million pieces during a big race. Sure, your twenty year-old girlfriend in 1991 is going to be upset that you died and junk. But your thirty-nine year-old girlfriend in 2009 is going to be... freaked out when she learns that her dead boyfriend from 1991 is still alive. Okay, the plan isn't perfect, but that's the beauty of Freejack. It wants to be the Blade Runner of the '90s, but it unwittingly becomes the ultimate ode to insta-milfing. You see, while your girlfriend has slowly been aging for the past eighteen years, you haven't aged one bit. Meaning, you can rub your taut twenty year-old cock all over her fine thirty-nine year-old vagina. Well, in theory you can. Convincing a twenty year-old Rene Russo, who seems to channeling Drew Barrymore, to rub the shaft containing your organic tautness all over the bean-sized squishy lumps that pepper her not even close to being weather-beaten vulva is pretty much the epitome of easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy. However, managing to persuade a thirty-nine year-old Rene Russo, one who is now a sophisticated executive with a wardrobe to match, to do is same is going to be difficult.

How difficult, you ask? Well, the makers of Freejack try to answer that question by showing the lengths a hot shot rookie race car driver named Alex Furlong (Emilio Estevez) will go to get a delicious piece of mature pussy. I know, you're thinking to yourself: That's a pretty crass way to describe Rene Russo. But I can't think of a less vulgar way to put it.

In a way, Rene Russo should be flattered that Alex Furlong is so eager to enter her fully-developed lady-hole. In the majority of movies that explore the insta-milf phenomenon, the man usually dumps the older woman for someone younger. But not here. Uh-uh. Alex Furlong risks his life multiple times to get with the sexually attractive older woman of his dreams.

Of course, the reason Alex Furlong has to risk his life in order to hook up with Julie Redlund (Rene Russo) has nothing to do with society's reluctance to accept relationships that involve young men dating older women, but everything to do with Mick Jagger and Esai Morales wanting to use his body for reasons that are a tad complicated.

Actually, they're not that complicated. In the future, certain people on the verge of death can transport their mind into the mind of a healthy body. I know, why go through the trouble of snatching the bodies of race car drivers from the early 1990s just as they're about to die in a horrific car crash? Well, the reason the individual Mick Jagger and Esai Morales work for, McCandless (Anthony Hopkins), the CEO of McCandless Corp., wants this particular body is personal/convoluted. But it makes sense overall, as the bulk of today's society are too sickly to transport one's mind to.

It's like that movie Millennium. Only, instead of transporting an entire doomed airliner's worth people into the future, they transport one person. And that person is called a "freejack." Unfortunately for McCandless, his freejack manages to escape moments after being transported from 1991 to 2009.

After a narrow escape, Alex Furlong sets about finding his milfy prize. That is, of course, if she's still alive. I mean, the 2009 version of New York City looks a tad on the bleak side.
  

Helped by a shotgun-wielding, internet surfing nun (Amanda Plummer), Alex is sent to Park Slope, Brooklyn, where his agent from '91 (David Johansen) apparently now lives. Despite the constant raging gun battles in the street, Alex manages to find his agent and is well on his way to reuniting with Julie. All he has to do is not get caught by Mick Jagger's Vacendak, and his band of armored car driving, helmet-wearing laser-rifle-packing goons.

Even though it sounded like I was joking about Rene Russo channeling Drew Barrymore, I'm actually dead serious. Since the bulk of the film's budget went to designing those futuristic bubble cars and paying the steep rental fees for the fleet of armored cars used in this movie, there wasn't anything left over to cover the cost of making Rene Russo seem believable as a twenty year-old. Well, after watching Drew Barrymore in Poison Ivy, Rene Russo decided right then and there that her (Saturn Award winning) performance in the early going of Freejack would be based on Drew Barrymore (watch her eyes, they're so Drew). It's true, I still didn't buy that Rene Russo looked twenty. But she did act the part, I'll give her that.

As for Emilio Estevez... Since he stays the same age from start to finish, no make-up is necessary to make him seem older. Nevertheless, he brings nothing of note to the film. Personally, I would have cast Christian Slater or James Spader as Alex Furlong.

My opinion as far Mick Jagger goes seems to change from day-to-day. One minute I'm like: Can you believe Mick Jagger is in this movie?!? And the next minute I'm like: Can you believe Mick Jagger in this movie?!? Wait, that's the same exact thing I said about the first minute. Either way, the sound of Mick's unique accent uttering lines like, "Get the meat!" and "Who's firing hard ammo?" was quite something. But like I said, I can't really decide if it's a good thing or a bad thing. I will say this, I did let out a mild giggle every time they would show Mick Jagger wearing his helmet (safety first).

When we do eventually meet Rene Russo in 2009, she's so chic it hurts. And, yes, her legs are usually adorned with hosiery. What kind exactly, I'm not entirely sure. But they were typically jet black and worn with long, slit-friendly skirts.

Now working for the McCandless Corp., Rene Russo has no idea that her boss (Anthony Hopkins) is planning on bringing her dead boyfriend from 1991 to 2009. If I was her, I would be flattered by the amount effort both McCandless and Alex Furlong go through to be with her.

If you think about it, the whole thing is freakin' romantic. Of course, Rene Russo doesn't see it this way. At least not right away. And because of this, Alex Furlong must jump through even more hoops to claim his milfy prize. And by "hoops," I mean, car chases, laser gun battles, and, not to mention, defeat a more conniving than usual Jonathan Banks (he plays an evil McCandless employee named Michelette). Just for the record: When it comes to being an asshole twenty-five years ago, no-one can top Jonathan Banks.

Anyway, it's a good thing Alex Furlong's "milfy prize" looks like Rene Russo, as I wouldn't have bought the film's premise (twenty year-old race car driver jumps through multiple hoops to hook up with a thirty-seven year-old executive) had the so-called "milfy prize" been someone who lacked milf-appeal. And Rene Russo... (Has milf-appeal?) Yeah. She does.

On the other hand, I didn't buy that nightclub's in 2009 would be playing Jesus Jones. Remember them? They were briefly popular back in 1991. Hell, the film can't even get 1992 right, as the use of a Scorpions song over the closing credits seems dated. Though, to be fair, hardly anyone predicted that grunge would take off the way it did at around the time of this film's release.

Oh, and keep an eye out for Jerry Hall as a newswoman (she appears during the nightclub scene) and Grand L. Bush as "Boone" Rene Russo's driver/body guard, who carries a TEC-9 and a samurai sword.

Nightmares (Joseph Sargent, 1983)

My misguided attempt to watch everything in the cinematic oeuvre of Moon Unit Zappa continues abated with her brief yet integral appearance in the horror anthology, Nightmares, a film that includes four unrelated stories slapped together in a semi-haphazard, semi-entertaining manner. And they include, "Terror in Topanga," the tale of Topanga Lawrence (Danielle Fishel), a shapely teen whose virginal vagina becomes haunted by the ghost of a recently deceased serial killer named Bojangles McGillicutty (voiced by actor/game show show Bert Convy), "Bishop of Battle," a frightening...Hold up, you're not going to do a fake synopsis for all four segments, are you? Why wouldn't I? And besides, what do you mean, "fake"? That's totally what "Terror in Topanga" is about. No, I get it, "Topanga" is the name of Danielle Fishel's beloved character from the '90s classic, Boy Meets World, and when you saw the words "...in Topanga" flash on the screen, you immediately thought of Topanga's not-taciturn vagina. Don't be ashamed, I'm sure most people you're age probably thought of that too. The only problem with your joke is Danielle Fishel was only around two years-old when this film was shot. In other words, your joke has gone from being mildly creepy, to extremely creepy in the blink of an eye. I see? Okay, say Danielle Fishel was 18, don't you think a movie about a poltergeist living inside her pussy–don't you mean, pulsating pussy? fine, inside her pulsating pussy–would be a lot more compelling than one about Cristina Raines (The Sentinel) going out after 11pm to buy cigarettes? That's not the point, you should always try to review the movie that's on the screen, not the one that's inside your head. Either way, don't sell Cristina Raines late night cigarette run short.

Don't tell me, Cristina gets abducted by aliens. Not quite, but there's a deranged mental patient on the loose and she's low on gas. Is that it? I'm afraid so. Oh, I just remembered, the guy who plays the store clerk is played Anthony James (The Teacher); one of my favourite actors. Shouldn't he be playing the deranged mental patient? Technically, yes, he probably should. But the first chapter of Nightmares is filled with little twists like that. Speaking of which, another twist just came to mind.

Keep an eye on the grainy picture of the deranged mental patient that appears on the news, as he looks eerily similar to a character who shows up during this chapter's cryptic climax.

Anyway, to say that I was unimpressed with "Terror in Topanga" would be one of them understatement thingies. However, things pick up when "Bishop of Battle" gets underway. I won't lie, this chapter is the reason I watched Nightmares in the first place. And, yes, I realize it's the video age, and that I could have easily just watched this chapter and skipped the rest. But I wanted to experience the film the way director Joseph Sargent and producer/screenwriter Christopher Crowe (he wrote chapters 1-3) originally had intended. Sure you did.

It's true, I haven't checked out what the general consensus is regarding "Bishop of Battle," but I can safely say that the sight of a video game addicted Emilio Estevez hustling Chicano gang members while listening to Fear on his Walkman is pretty badass.

Getting off the bus (to "I Don't Care About You" by Fear), J.J. Cooney (Emilio Estevez) and Zock (Billy Jayne) are in Hollywood to make some quick cash. No, they're not prostitutes, they hustle unsuspecting rubes using J.J.'s talent for playing video games and Zock's talent for, well, playing the concerned friend.

Noticing a Chicano (complete with a plaid shirt, tan trousers and a hair net) playing Pleiades, J.J. approaches him and challenges to a game using his best "aw-shucks, I'm not from around here" voice. The stakes are only for a dollar, but they soon rise, as J.J. purposefully digs himself into a hole. When the Chicano posts a score of 17010, his friends let out a cheer. With the stakes at twenty-five dollars, J.J. decides to stop messing around. You know what that means, right? You got it, it's time "Let's Have a War" by Fear to blast on the punk rock heavy soundtrack.

Isn't "Let's Have a War" by Fear also on the Repo Man soundtrack? Yes it is. You do realize that Nightmares and Repo Man both star Emilio Estevez? Oh, you do. Okay, just checking.

While I've got your attention, did anyone else laugh when J.J. tells Zock that he needs to "beat the bishop"? Last time I checked, it's a slang term for masturbation. After barely getting out of Hollywood in one piece, J.J. is back on his home turf in The Valley, or more specifically, the Fox Hills Mall (which is an actual mall in Culver City).

Apparently when J.J. was talking about beating the bishop, he wasn't talking about his erect penis, he was talking about, you guessed it, the Bishop of Battle, a video game he's been trying to beat for some time now. Entering the mall's Game-O-Rama arcade with an overconfident swagger, J.J. is mobbed by his many admirers (fellow gamers who worship his gaming skills). When one of these so-called admirers yells out, "Hey, it's J.J.!" you'll notice that the alluring vision of loveliness (a short-haired goddess in a purple jacket), playing Starhawk turns her head with a rapid brand of neck turning efficiency.

It might not be obvious to the casual observer, but we're about to experience the majestic splendour that is the one and only Moon Unit Zappa.

Positioning himself in front of the Bishop of Battle game, which is located in the centre of the arcade, J.J. puts in his quarter and prepares to play. "Greetings, Earthling. I am the Bishop of Battle, master of all I survey. I have 13 progressively harder levels. Try me if you dare," says the animated floating head that represents the Bishop of Battle. Well, does he dare? Of course he does. There wouldn't be a movie if he didn't. And besides, he already put in his quarter.

Able to reach level 12 with a relative ease, J.J. can't seem to make it to level 13. This, as you would expect, frustrates J.J. to the point of madness.

The game itself is actually quite lame as far as early '80s video games go (the graphics are beyond crude), so I won't bother describing the game action. However, the look on Moon Unit Zappa's face as she watched J.J. play Bishop of Battle was anything but, as you can tell exactly how J.J. was doing, game-wise, just by watching her animated expressions.

After failing yet again to make it to level 13, J.J. has grown visibly angry. And not only that, he appears to have lost his mind. Yeah, the game seems to have consumed him. Yeah, the game has taken over his life, but I was referring to the way he treats Moon Unit Zappa, who's the only one left in the arcade (everyone else has since gone home).

Wait, he doesn't blow off Moon Unit Zappa, does he? He totally does. What an idiot. Did he not hear Moon Unit Zappa when she says: "C'mon, J.J. Let's get a pizza and talk like we used to"? It doesn't look like it. How could he not hear her? She put the emphasis on the "za" when saying "peets-zah." Oh, he heard her all right. It's just he's more interested in getting to level 13 of this stupid game than getting to second base with Moon Unit Zappa.

To be honest, I don't know exactly what getting to "second base" entails (I was raised by British people), but I sure hope it involves groping her unit. Get it, unit, her name is Moon Unit? Never mind. Anyone who makes Moon Unit Zappa sad is not cool in my book. I don't care if he likes punk rock, you don't mess around with Moon Unit Zappa's heart like that. No one ignores Moon Unit Zappa's tubular invite to get peets-zah. At least not on my watch.

I don't mean to be the bearer of bad news, but there are still two chapters left in this anthology. And it looks like you have used up your allotment of paragraphs for this review. I have an allotment of paragraphs?!? Well, not really. But you should really start to think about wrapping things up. Okay, chapter three, "The Benediction," stars Lance Henriksen as a priest who is having a "crisis of faith." After quitting the church, Lance, or, I should say, his stuntman, is repeatedly confronted by a mysterious black truck along a stretch of desert road. Think of it as Duel but nowhere near as awesome. Chapter four, "Night of the Rat," involves a suburban family, played by Veronica Cartwright, Richard Masur, and Bridgette Anderson (don't forget their cat Rosie) who are menaced by a giant rat.

Other than the sight of Veronica Cartwright (Mirror Mirror 2: Raven Dance) in a tight sweater and a couple of decent jump scares, I wasn't that impressed with this chapter. I did like how they filmed Veronica Cartwright in that aforementioned sweater from every angle imaginable.

My favourite, of course, being the view from the back, as it highlighted her domestic prowess; open those kitchen cabinets, you sexy, excellent at not being detected by pod people, minx.

Repo Man (Alex Cox, 1984)

Canoodling my subconscious like a gentle virus, Repo Man is a film that has lived with me for almost twenty years. From the days when I would tape snippets of dialogue from off the television and splice them with homemade industrial music to the time I used to be driven around the seedier parts of town in a large automobile made out of metal, this film has been a trusty companion. My thoughts on everything from friendship to employment, to youth culture and faith was shaped by the nonsensicality that transpires in this amorphous teaching tool masquerading as a ninety-minute movie produced by the wool-hatted member of The Monkees. I have even used the film to help boost my self-esteem whenever I've found myself cornered by those who have the gall to think they're hipper than me. Now, I know what you're thinking, and no, I don't use the fact I've seen the film well over thirty times to stymie their shifty, hipness-challenging advances. Nope. I tell them I own the soundtrack. However, this bit of information alone doesn't do the trick. Uh-uh. It's actually when tell them I own the soundtrack on vinyl that their hipster asses begin to crumple under the weight of my overwhelming coolness. The rush of smugness that courses through my retired porn star body as I over enunciate the word "vinyl" is downright exquisite. Educational and life affirming purposes aside, the wonderfully subversive film by Alex Cox still manages, after all these years, to exude the nourishment my undeveloped nerve endings crave so dearly just through the simple act of watching it. The fact that I have it memorized doesn't take anything away from the sheer nihilistic delight the film bestows upon me each time I look at it.

A surreal tonic for the disaffected soul, Repo Man is one of the few films that can unify the members even the most adversarial of subcultures. Well, except Mods, they never seemed to "get it" (even though there are actual Mods in it). But for everyone else, it's like watching deranged poetry.

A punk rock-fueled opus that appeals to new wavers, rude boys, industrial freaks, astrochemists, car thieves, Stacey Q fans, and linguistics majors, the film teaches us that life can be intense sometimes and that excessive driving can cause brain damage.

Lacking the proper parental guidance necessary to survive in the city of Los Angeles circa 1984, the film follows the misadventures of Otto (Emilio Estevez), an aimless juvenile delinquent who finds the structure he needs under the guise of Bud (Harry Dean Stanton), a street smart fella who repossess cars from people who have fallen behind in their payments. Learning the ropes from Bud, and to a lesser extent, Lite (Sy Richardson), Otto finds the repo business to be tough yet lucrative (it sure beats stacking cans of beans). Things are complicated slightly for Otto when he meets Leila (Olivia Barash), a UFO enthusiast and a young lady who just happens to possess a severe form of cuteness. Anyway, she's looking for a Chevy Malibu with space aliens in the trunk, and asks the rooky repo man to help.

Called me jaded, but that sounds like an easy enough task. Only problem is a secret arm of the U.S. government (lead by a metal-handed, leg-tastic Susan Barnes), the Rodriguez Brothers (Del Zamora and Eddie Velez), Otto's repo co-workers, and Debbi (Jennifer Balgobin), Duke (Dick Rude) and Archie (Miguel Sandoval), a trio of crime-obsessed punks, are also looking for the much sought after Malibu. Which is being driven by J. Frank Parnell (Fox Harris), an unstable individual whose mind might already be starting to erode.

Despite many attempts to sully his status as a cult movie hero with multiple acts of out-and-out lameness since its release, Emilio Estevez manages retain an air of blank dignity as Otto (his wide-eyed defiance and hatred of authority still reverberate). However, this air is no doubt retained due to the fact he gets to rub shoulders with the legendary Harry Dean Stanton, whose Bud has the temperament of a sage. Extolling handy wisdom at the drop of a drink (none of the products in this film have names that go beyond what they actually are), Stanton is quietly brilliant as the gruff and weary car taker backer.

Speaking of quietly brilliant, my two favourite performances are just that, quietly brilliant. The dishevelled Fox Harris (Dr. Caligari) and the equally dishevelled Tracey Walter are tremendous at displaying calmness in this topsy-turvy world. As well reciting the films most memorable monologues: Mr. Harris' being the one about the wonders of the neutron bomb and his overall mental, while Tracy's focused on the origins of humanity.

Comedically, I'd say Dick Rude's Duke and Zander Schloss as Kevin (Otto's pre-repo friend and co-worker) are the funniest characters in Repo Man. Spewing some of the films most quotable lines ("Let's get sushi and not pay" and "There's room to move as a fry cook."), Dick and Zander prove themselves to be adept comics whenever they appear on-screen.

On a non-comedic level, nothing quite beats the image of mohawked Jennifer Balgobin (Dr. Caligari) pointing a gun while in a silver raincoat. The super-adorable Olivia Barash brings a playful femininity to her plucky fruitcake role. Vonetta McGee shines whilst kneeing one g-man in the crotch and chairing another in the face. ("Shut up, Plettschner.") And I was surprised to find myself drawn to the steely presence of Susan Barnes this time around, and just like Miss Balgobin, the sight of a leggy Susan pointing a gun was just as alluring. (On the film's DVD commentary track, Sy Richardson sanely points out Susan's great legs as well.)

Gliding though the cockeyed proceedings like a drunken research scientist is the dreamlike music score by The Plugz. Sure, the film features songs by the likes of Black Flag, Circle Jerks and Iggy Pop, but it's The Plugz that make the film literally soar into the stratosphere. Their surf tinged guitars and electronic knob twiddling create a terrific aura, especially during "Reel Ten."

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