Runaway (Michael Crichton, 1984)

It's easy to sit back and laugh at bold predictions that fail to materialize in works of speculative science fiction that came out thirty years ago. However, just because evil bastards who look like Gene Simmons from KISS aren't running around stealing microchips with the help of an army of robot spiders doesn't mean the premise of Runaway is that far-fetched. Sure, the film, written and directed by Michael Crichton, might come across as a little hokey, but it pretty much predicts humanities over-dependence on technology. Of course, you still might say that the idea of a robot cooking you dinner is something straight out of The Jetsons. So while the aesthetics are a tad off, the theory the film puts forth is eerily accurate. Though, I have to wonder, who's designing these robots? I mean, why are so many of them malfunctioning? Actually, they're not just malfunctioning, they're hurting people. Don't believe me, just ask Kirstie Alley's jet black pantyhose-ensnared thighs, as they just got zapped by a burst of electricity that came from her 577 Sentry (a glorified paper shredder on wheels).

Don't look at me like that. You didn't think I purposely went out of my way to watch a movie that stars Tom Selleck, did you? C'mon, man, you know me better than that. All it took for this film to pique my interest was the sight of Kirstie Alley looking all business-like in her blouse, belt, skirt, hose and heels ensemble. It also helped that I liked Michael Crichton's previous film, Looker, which starred Albert Finney and Susan Dey.

Unfortunately, Tom Selleck is no Albert Finney. I know, that's my second dig at Mr. Selleck, but simply put, he just not that good in this. You would think he'd be perfect as a cop. But he's not merely a cop, he's a cop who's in charge of pacifying "runaway" robots. And I didn't buy for a second that Tom Selleck knew anything about robots.

No, what this film needs an actor like, oh, let's say, Harrison Ford or Peter Weller. Or better yet, turn it into a Hong Kong set Category III flick called "RoboCops" (with, of course, Danny Lee in the Tom Selleck role and Anthony Wong as the villain). But then again, every film in existence would be better off if it was remade as a Hong Kong set Category III flick. Seriously, think of a film. It doesn't matter, just pick one. Okay, now imagine it took place in Hong Kong circa 1991-94. Pretty awesome, eh?

Okay, let's get things back on track. First off, the poster for this movie lied to me. Not once does Jack Ramsay (Tom Selleck) hold the cool futuristic pistol that fires mini-heat seeking missiles.

Most cops have to deal with the dregs of society on a daily basis, but Jack Ramsay is in charge of tracking down and disabling wonky robots.

On the day he's assigned a new partner, Jack gets a call about a 7799 Pest Controller (your standard agricultural model) that's running amuck in a corn field. Wait is it "amuck" or "amok"?

Ah, who gives a shit. Check out the gams on Ramsay's new partner. I bet you're wondering how I knew her gams were worth checking out, you know, because she's wearing a pair of standard issue lady police pants (which are infamous for dampening lady-based legginess). Well, that's just it, she wasn't wearing lady police pants, she was wearing a lady police skirt. Nothing too short, but short enough to get a good idea what she had going on gam-wise.

At any rate, Ramsay's new partner is a failed dancer named Thompson (Cynthia Rhodes)–which is apt since Cynthia is best known for being a dancer. After a couple of mild hiccups, Ramsay and Thompson manage to wrangle the wayward robot. It's no wonder it malfunctioned the way it did, it's CPU was an 8088. Am I right, fellas?

The next call the robot police get is a 709, which, according to Marvin (Stan Shaw), is when a robots kills someone. It would seem that a model 912 stabbed to death two people and threatening to kill a baby with a hand gun.

Arriving at the scene (a quiet suburban street), Ramsay asks them to prep a "floater" (a drone) to send in the house, so that he may access the situation. Deciding that the only option is to go inside himself, Ramsay dons his trusty electromagnetic scatter suit and prepares to face down the killer robot.

Despite a few minor glitches, Ramsay emerges from the house a hero. I have to say, this particular sequence  is pretty gripping stuff. Granted, Tom Selleck looked ridiculous in his electromagnetic scatter suit  (even the name is giggle worthy), but the scene is kinda cool. Oh, and you know something sinister is afoot when we see Gene Simmons' Luther lurking in the crowd that has gathered to watch Ramsay do his thing.

And wouldn't you know it, Luther was the one who planted the "non-standard chip" inside the model 912 that made it go nuts. Meaning, this was no runaway, this was murder.

The non-standard chips are highly sought after by Luther, who wants to sell them to terrorists (nice guy). And when we meet him again, he's shaking down an employee at Vectrocon Security Systems for a butt-load of these non-standard chips. Unsatisfied with merely attaining more non-standard chips, Luther wants the templates that will allow him to produce more. And it looks like, judging by the way dispatches one Vectrocon stooge with a bunch of robot spiders and another (Chris Mulkey from The Hidden) with a gun that fires heat-seeking missiles, he'll do just about anything to acquire them.

While investigating the Vectrocon connection, Ramsay comes face-to-face with the shapely splendour that Kirstie Alley circa 1984. Playing a Vectrocon employee named "Jackie," Kirstie, it would seem, is having a little trouble with her 577 Sentry (it keeps zapping her black pantyhose-adorned thighs). Luckily for her, Ramsay and Thompson are currently in the building.

I liked how when Thompson offers to get Ramsay's electromagnetic scatter suit from the car, he says no. Now, before you accuse Ramsay of being careless. It should be noted that Ramsay doesn't want to look like a total dork in front of Jackie. Yes, even a seasoned professional like Ramsay is willing forgo safety in order to impress an attractive woman. And it looks like, much to Thompson's chagrin, Ramsay's gamble is paying off, as Jackie's pussy is clearly pulsating at a magnum-infused rate of speed. (Huh?) She totally wants to fuck him. (Oh.)

Even though the script seems to favour the pairing of Ramsay and Thompson, I thought Ramsay and Jackie produced more heat.

Speaking of pairing things, if I had to pair Runaway with any other film, I would go with Black Moon Rising. Think about it, both film's feature tons of newfangled gadgetry, yet no attempt whatsoever is made to make their respective worlds seem futuristic. Though, in terms of quality, I have to give Black Moon Rising a slight edge. It's simple, really, Tommy Lee Jones is a better actor than Tom Selleck. That being said, Runaway has robot spiders and Kirstie Alley in black pantyhose going for it. So, yeah.

Flying (Paul Lynch, 1986)

Under normal circumstances, whenever I come across a person during my day-to-day travels whose lifelong dream involves being the best in the not-so lucrative field of tumbling while in a leotard, I, like most sane individuals, ridicule them without a hint of mercy. However, my mocking outlook has been shaken to its very core after witnessing the epic tightness of Olivia d'Abo in Flying (a.k.a. Dream To Believe and Teenage Dream), another in the long line of nimble Canadian gymnastics flicks made between years 1984 and 1986. I mean, I don't think I'll be able to besmirch or belittle the same way ever again. Yet, the fact that I'm cool with that is not only a testament to my first-rate levelheadedness, but a misguided tribute to my overall growth as a semi-functioning human being. Of course, helping me get to this point was the guileless effulgence of this Paul Lynch (Bullies) directed masterpiece; a film that teaches us that every dream, no matter how stupid or idiotic, is worth fighting for in the long run. The drudgery of working at your abusive step dad's dry cleaning shop combined with the shrewish taunts hurdled by a duo of malevolent brunettes, a Buffalo, New York–it's actually Toronto, Ontario (you'll have to do more than name-drop the Bills and show Irv Weinstein reading the news on television to fool me)–teen named Robin (Olivia d'Abo) is at the end of her chalk-covered rope.

Nursing a bum knee (which she got in a car accident that killed her much beloved biological father) and getting nowhere with the hunky guy using the antiquated rowing machine, the determined young whippersnapper decides to throw herself back into the cutthroat world of competitive gymnastics.

Hopping on her modish moped (she wears goggles and a black lace scarf over her face), the spunky gal barrels up Yonge Street to secretly train at a dilapidated warehouse. Reconnecting with her tangible self, and, not to mention, getting a much needed break from her unruly home life (her step dad thinks she dresses like a "lesbo"), Robin's graceful tumbles and aggressive kicking motions are instead cheered on by a marijuana-smoking security guard (Denis Simpson from Polka Dot Door), who, in a slightly demented way, provides her with the fatherly encouragement that she is severely lacking at home (her late father used to assist in her training).

The first of many training sequences, the one that takes place in the warehouse sets the tone for what kind of training montages we should come to expect throughout this montage-heavy movie. The sight of the gorgeous Miss d'Abo pushing her sexy body to limits of physical exertion in conjunction with a dizzying mix of synth-rock and pinkish-red smoke is what makes Flying such a pleasurable experience.

Also, the act of watching her acquire the necessary skills required to crush her dark-haired rivals, Leah (Renee Murphy) and Stacy (Samantha Logan), is the stuff unremorseful erections are made of.

A working class heroine in the classic sense of the term, Robin enlists the help of the school's bus driver (Eugene Clark) and a fellow tumbler named Carly (Jessica Steen) to fight the wicked forces that permeate her fucked up plain of existence.

In-between training to become the newest member of "The Flyers," the cleverly succinct name of the school's gymnastic team run by a wonderfully short-haired Rita Tushingham, Robin finds the time to squeeze a little romance into her busy schedule when she decides to hook up with Tommy (Keanu Reeves), a goofy yet sweet student who has, up until now, been unsuccessfully trying to woo the living snot out of her.

The usually over-matched Keanu is surprisingly adept at playing an empty-headed slacker. And in terms of believability when it came to portraying a male adolescent who is openly in love with a wounded gymnast who dresses like a new wave bag lady, I thought the unpolished actor did an excellent job of conveying this unorthodox infatuation with an unrefined cluelessness.

Grinding her pelvis with reckless abandon (with the help of dance double Cynthia Rhodes), the luminous Olivia d'Abo takes plucky underdogs with something to prove to whole another level of greatness.

Whether staring longingly in the window of the neighbourhood leotard shop (her agile mind envisioning what her mouth-watering crotch area would look like with the garment's taut, resilient fabric pressing tightly against the crumpled softness of her girl-based infrastructure), or touchingly recounting the reason why she loves tumbling so much in the first place (she compares the sensation of tumbling to what a bird must feel like when it's flying), Miss d'Ado manages to make her character's gymnastics dream not seem frivolous at all.

Utilizing her topnotch empathy face and a fistful of gumption, the British born actress creates an atmosphere where you can't help but root for her when it come to destroying the competition at a big meet against the Niagara Falls Rockets and getting back at that those snooty yuppies in training.

Even though I've already mentioned her, the stellar work of Cynthia Rhodes (Staying Alive) during the multiple montages that take place in Flying should not be undervalued. The aforementioned warehouse scene, the tumble-off at the drive-in, and the blistering energy of the final floor exercise (set to "Dancing Madly Backwards" by The Flirts) wouldn't have been the same without Cynthia's pronounced physical presence.

Oh, and, by the way, the Robin's floor exercise was so awesome, that I played air drums, air synth, and air guitar while it transpired. Yeah, that's right, I performed the holy trinity of pretend musicianship.

In closing, I would most definitely put this film, and its many montages, in the same exalted league as Heavenly Bodies, because when it comes to delivering a story that is filled with romanticism, adversity, synthesizer-based pop music, tumbling, physical exertion, and mildly perverted camera angles, Flying is an unambiguous success.

video uploaded by JulioNeri

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