Tiptoes (Matthew Bright, 2003)

Okay, I've stalled long enough. It's time to talk about Tiptoes. (You were stalling?) Wasn't I? Think about it. (Aw, man, don't make us think. It's not a good look for us.) No, hear me out. Call it aught-phobia, call it achondroplasiaphobia, call it a nice greasy pork sandwich served in a dirty ashtray, but I always avoided this movie like it were the plague or The Big Bang Theory. Everyone once and a while, I would come across the film's poster and think: This looks like a giant piece of shit. To add insult to injury, the way the film's poster combined the colour green and Matthew McConaughey reminded me of The Wedding Planner. However, upon further inspection, I noticed that something weird was going on with Patricia Arquette and Kate Beckinsale's hair. The former's hair was in braids and the latter's hair had this Gary Oldman in Bram Stoker's Dracula vibe about it; to make matters even weirder, Kate was standing next to what looked like a regular-size Gary Oldman. More on Oldman's size in a minute. Either way, their respective kooky hairstyles caused me to do a little research. Well, it turns out, this movie, which, like I said, is called "Tiptoes," was directed by Matthew Bright, that's right, Squeezit/Rene from the Forbidden Zone and the guy responsible for Freeway and Freeway 2: Confessions of a Trickbaby . (How does that explain Patricia Arquette and Kate Beckinsale's hair?) If you have listened to director's commentary track on the DVD for the first Freeway movie, like I have, you're well aware that Matthew Bright had a hand in creating the various hairstyles seen throughout that now classic movie. And using my keen powers of observation, I can only assume that Matthew Bright was just as hands on when it came to the hairstyles in this movie as well.

Armed with the knowledge that Matthew Bright was the person who oversaw the follicle direction of this decidedly off-kilter project, I dove straight into its freckled coin slot with just the right amount of gusto. I know, the film probably had a team of hairstylists on the payroll (it even says here that Kate Beckinsale had her own personal hairstylist). But nothing gets put on film unless the director approves it first. In other words, I like to think that Matthew Bright had the final say when it came to hair.

Remember that big ass word I used earlier? (Achondroplasiaphobia?) Yeah, that's the ticket. It means the fear of little people. I don't have it, and I don't know anyone who has it, but apparently it's a real thing. Do you recall when I said that Gary Oldman looked "regular-size" on the film's poster? Yeah, well, how should I put this? He ain't so "regular-size" in the actual movie. That's right. The man who brought to life: Lee Harvey Oswald, Count Dracula, Sid Vicious, and Ludwig Van Beethoven is Rolfe, Matthew McConaughey's twin brother who penetrates Bridget The Midget's irregular pussy with his regular-size cock on a semi-regular basis.

I know, there's nothing "irregular" about little people pussy. In fact, I've been told it's the complete opposite of irregular. I was just being...What was I being again? Oh, yeah. I was being a dick; a dick, by the way, that is seemingly always on the outside when it comes to little people pussy.

While on their way to a meeting being held by the Little People Defense League, two little people, Rolfe (Gary Oldman), a normal-size actor wearing little-people-face, and Maurice (Peter Dinklage) a French Marxist with a grudge against society, stop to pick up a hitchhiker named Lucy (Patricia Arquette), a leggy free spirit, who, from the looks of it, was recently kicked off a bus. Hopping on the back of Maurice's trike chopper (Rolfe is driving one as well), the newly christened threesome continue on their way.

Meanwhile... You know what? I need to get something off my chest before I continue. I just want to say that I loved Patricia Arquette's overall look in this movie. Now, I might expand on these feelings later on down the road, but I just wanted to make it clear that Patricia Arquette's overall look in Tiptoes was a breathtaking sight to behold.

As I was saying, meanwhile, over at the loft where an artist named Carol (Kate Beckinsale) and Steven (Matthew McConaughey), a guy who trains firefighters, live together, a family secret is about to be revealed.

Well, the family secret in question is not going to be revealed to any of film's characters as of yet. However, we soon learn that Steven's entire family is made up of little people. Oh, and unlike Gary Oldman, Matthew McConaughey is playing his own height. I don't know why I felt the need to point that out, as Gary Oldman is the only actor not playing his own height. I guess I just didn't want people to think that all the actors were playing heights that weren't their own. (So, you say, Matthew McConaughey's family is little, eh? And by "little," I mean in stature, not in the size of the actual family.) No, I would say the family's size is quite normal in that regard. Not to imply that being little is somehow abnormal.

Anyway, judging by the way he interacts with the folks at the meeting of the Little People Defense League, hosted by Jerry Robin Jr. (David Alan Grier), he seems, despite the obvious height difference, to get along with everyone, including his parents, Bruno (Michael J. Anderson - The Man from Another Place) and Kathleen (Marcia de Rousse), and his siblings.

I would crawl across the muscled expanse that is Matthew McConaughey's acne-free shoulder blades to get the chance the chat up Tiffany (Cherub Freed), his smoking hot sister. I know, the Goldie Hawn-esque (Lucy's description, not mine) Kitty Katz (Debbie Lee Carrington) thinks she's the hottest little person in the room, even Bobby (Ed Gale), the guy who runs the Little People Defense League, seems to think so. But I have to say, I found myself drawn to the teenage angst bullshit Tiffany was putting out there. Oh, and like all the female characters in this movie, she has amazing hair.

"The asshole is the strongest muscle in the human body," and with that nugget of wisdom, Lucy, along with Rolfe and Maurice, arrives at the L.P.D.L. meeting. While Lucy and Maurice go inside, Steven and Rolfe, who walks with the aide of a cane, get reacquainted in the parking lot. I guess the people who the run the L.P.D.L. didn't approve of Lucy and Maurice's plan to steel their weight in food, as they are kicked out almost immediately.

"People just explode. Natural causes."

(What is this film actually about? I mean, other than the fact that Matthew McConaughey's shoulder blades are free of acne and that Cherub Freed is freaking adorable, you haven't done a very good explaining why this film exists.) First of all, since when do films need to justify their existence. And secondly, you sound like a "film critic" when you talk like that. (Ewww, I think I'm going to puke.)

You see, Carol–you remember, Kate Beckinsale's character–doesn't know that Steven's family is made up of little people, or, as she calls them, "midgets." So, when Carol tells Steven that she might be pregnant, his reaction to the news isn't exactly positive. You could say, he's downright hostile to the news. As you can imagine, things get even more complicated when Carol finds out Steven's little secret (get it, "little secret"). Neither of them want their baby to grow up to be a little person.

However, that all changes when Carol immerse herself in the little person scene. (Wait, there's a little person scene?) Sure, why not? It's tough being little. While Carol is open to idea of having a little person baby, Steven remains against it. You would think that Steven would the one open to idea, as he's spent his whole life around little people. Whereas, Carol was using the word "midget" just a couple of days ago. That's the brilliance of Tiptoes, it... (Stop! "The brilliance of Tiptoes"?!? What are you nuts? Gary Oldman is acting on his fucking knees. Peter Dinklage's French accent is a joke. And... Again, you're starting to sound like a "film critic.") Why can't a movie where Gary Oldman plays a little person and Peter Dinklage sounds like Pepé Le Pew be brilliant? (You're right. Carry on.)

Actually, I think I'm about done. In terms of having the best hair. I'm gong to say Kate Beckinsale's little person party look was the best -- you know, the one with the two large buns tied with a black ribbon. (Wow, I thought for sure you would have said Patricia Arquette's blonde braid look.) While I dug the braids, there was something about Kate's buns that sent me over the edge. On the other hand, I will give the denim/gold lamé outfit Patricia sports in the film my highest rating. Unfortunately, there's no director's commentary on the Tiptoes DVD, so we can't gain any insight into the making of this bizarre film. Nonetheless, I highly recommend listening to Matthew Bright's commentary Freeway DVD. I also recommend Matthew's commentary on the Fantoma Forbidden Zone DVD, the way he perves out every time Gisele Lindley appears onscreen is probably one of my favourite things in the world. Quirky fun-fact: The commentary track on the Fantoma Forbidden Zone DVD is the only commentary track I've listened to more than once.

Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Next Generation (Kim Henkel, 1994)

Watching drab damsels in distress running away from equally drab psychopaths for ninety minutes straight is not my idea of fun. I don't care if the latter is wielding a chainsaw, I need something with a little more pizazz, a little more pep, if I'm expected to raise my fist in the air and heartily declare what I'm currently looking at to be awesome. What if I told you there's a film out there where both the damsel in distress and the power tool enthusiast wear lipstick? On their lips? On their lips, baby. At the same time? What do you think? Well, if that's case, colour me intrigued. You know how you're always telling me how you can't stand it when the so-called "damsel in distress" dresses like a twelve year-old boy? I don't know if I'm always telling you that. But it's true, the defeminization of horror heroines is one of my least favourite things to happen to the horror genre. In fact, I'd put it up there with CGI gore/monsters, found footage, torture and grainy cinematography as things that repeatedly fail to churn my proverbial guacamole. Oh, and don't get me started on the recent spate of remakes, reboots, and reimaginings. Now, I'm not declaring Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Next Generation to be some kind of groundbreaking example of horror done right; it does a lot of things wrong, very wrong. I'm just saying that I appreciated the weird little unexpected quirks it throws our way every now and then. Of course, some people might not appreciate these "weird little unexpected quirks," as they will be too busy complaining about the film's lack of gore. But if memory serves me correctly, the original 1974 film by Tobe Hooper had no gore whatsoever. Besides, who needs gore when you have transvestitism? Transvesti-what? You know, cross-dressing.
 

 

It only makes sense that Leatherface (Robert Jacks) dress up pretty if he's going to chase women who are wearing prom dresses. Actually, I'm not sure if that makes sense at all. Think it about. I don't want to think about it. C'mon. Think. Okay, I'm thinking. Nope, I still don't get it. All right, I'll explain what I mean. If you're a reclusive cannibal with low-esteem, and all your masks are made out of skin that used to be attached to fine upstanding ladies, wouldn't you slowly start to manifest feminine attributes and characteristics over time? Judging by the blank expression on your face, I'll take it you're still not following.
 

 

You see, female skin is less coarse than male skin. And wouldn't you want the rest of your ensemble to match this new-found dermatological smoothness? Of course you would. You would be an idiot not to. If you got a vaginoplasty, you wouldn't wear men's trousers on your first post-op trip to the grocery store, you would wear a pleated teal skirt with matching pumps. Well, the same logic can be applied to people who perform amateur facelifts on themselves using the skin from the faces of the women who were unfortunate enough to stumble upon your den of  brainsick degenerates.
 

 

After opening with an unnecessary forward, we get a close-up shot of Leatherface's new face. Only, his new face is still stuck on the old face, which just happens to belong to a bespectacled gal named Jenny (Renée Zellweger), a Texas teen who is getting ready for the prom. Deciding to remove the lipstick she had been fastidiously applying to her pout perfect lips (I guess she thought it was too much for rural Texas to handle), Jenny slips into her white prom dress, and waits for Sean (John Harrison), her date, to arrive.
 

 

It wouldn't be prom night without some domestic distress, so Jenny is groped and threatened with sexual violence by her sleazy ass stepfather (David Laurence) before she leaves. The problem with this scene is that it makes Jenny's multiple attempts to not get killed by a family of mentally unstable cannibals seem fruitless, as her family is just as dysfunctional. Okay, maybe they're not as psychotic as the Slaughter clan, but at least they're more out in the open about their lack of sanity.  

 

Speaking of lacking sanity, let's all hail Carmen Nogales as "Girl in Red Dress," as her glorified cameo is a beautifully bizarre sight to behold. Appearing briefly in a scene that takes place in the hallway outside the gym where the prom is being held, Carmen Nogales treats us to some first-class crazy. Talking to her friend Heather (Lisa Marie Newmyer) about something that is clearly bothering her, Carmen puts her hand to her temple in, what I can only guess, was a veiled attempt to contain the batshit that was about to start leaking from her feverish brain, and launches into this incoherent tirade. And just like that, Carmen Nogales earns her place in the pantheon of off-kilter film performances that inexplicably make me giggle and shout.
 

 

I'm not sure if Carmen Nogales, a.k.a. The Girl in the Red Dress from Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Next Generation, already has a cult following or not. If she doesn't, I'd like to be the first to sign up as a member of the Carmen Nogales, a.k.a. The Girl in the Red Dress from Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Next Generation, Appreciation Society.
 

 

Don't worry, even though that's last we see of Carmen Nogales, another actress is about to come along to fill the Carmen Nogales void. In fact, here she comes right now. Remember that friend Carmen Nogalas was talking to outside the prom? Yeah, Heather. Well, she's going to blow your sock garters off. Really? Oh, you better believe it. Blackish stockings? Check. Tight dress? You know it. Gloves? That's an affirmative, good buddy. Is a volumizing scrunchie too much to ask? Don't be ridiculous, Heather will gladly wear a scrunchie that causes her hair to seem bigger than it really is. Wow, this Heather chick sounds amazing.
 

 

I have to ask, though. If this Heather chick is so "amazing," why is her boyfriend Barry (Tyler Cone) making out that other girl? Good question. On top of sounding exactly like Kenny Powers from Eastbound and Down, this Barry fella is what we like to call a "cad." Realizing this, Heather, after she catches Barry kissing another girl, hops in his car and tears out of the parking lot. Managing to get into the car before she leaves, Barry pleads with Heather to forgive him. When Barry starts trying to explain to Heather that he needs to have sex with other girls or else he'll get cancer, Jenny and Sean reveal themselves. I don't know why they chose the back of Barry's car to smoke pot, but it would seem that this prom has become a mobile affair.
 

 

Due to her frazzled state, and the narrow nature of the dirt road she turned onto, Heather winds up colliding with another car. Despite the fact that the driver of the other car  insists that he is not hurt, he falls to the ground like a bag of dirt. Stranded on a road in the middle of the woods, Jenny, Heather, and Barry decide to go look for help, while Sean stays with the car and the unconscious teen. It's during Jenny, Heather, and Barry's hike through the spooky woods that I really began to take a liking to Lisa Marie Newmyer's Heather. Not as a dumb as we originally thought, and saying what everyone else is thinking, she tells her friends that "we're all going to die," Heather manages to maintain her sex appeal even with a cut on the bridge of her nose. If anything, I thought the cut made her even sexier.
 

 

Already boasting two memorable characters (Carmen Nogales' "Girl in Red Dress and Lisa Marie Newmyer's Heather), you wouldn't think that Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Next Generation would have enough room to fit in one more. Well, think again. After successfully traversing the woods, the teen trio stumble upon the office of Darla Slaughter, a woman with legs for miles and a chichi sense of style. Played by the alluring Tonie Perensky, Darla, who is rocking a tight purple skirt with black stockings and a matching blazer (I think she's in the real estate business), warmly welcomes the wayward teens into her bosomy fold and calls them a tow truck. 
 

 

While that sounds like a kind gesture, as we'll soon find out, Vilmer Slaughter (Matthew McConaughey) isn't your average tow truck driver. For starters, one of his legs is in some kind of remote control leg brace, one that causes him to sound like a robot when he walks. And secondly, he is clearly insane.
 

 

In an effort to get back some of the thunder that was siphoned slightly by Darla, Heather tries to re-establish her status as the film's primary hottie. Declaring that she is not stupid but in fact a "bitch," Heather, who, unlike Jenny, has chosen to keep her heels on for the duration of this ordeal, accompanies Barry to a secluded house in the woods. Ditching Jenny a couple miles back, Heather and Barry wander towards the house totally unaware of the horrors that await them inside.  
 

 

Sitting on the swinging bench located near the front door, Heather, in addition to providing us with a mild upskirt, finally comes face-to-face with the horror legend that is Leatherface. Now, long time fans of the world's most famous chainsaw-wielding cannibal will probably be appalled by what this film has turned Leatherface into. I, on the other hand, could have been more pleased by Leatherface's transformation from a mindless killer to a skittish transvestite. You can tell right away that this isn't your grandfather's Leatherface when we see how transfixed he is by the sparkly nature of Heather's bejeweled scrunchie. He may have been reduced to a preening drag queen, but knows a first-rate scrunchie when he sees it.
 

 

Meanwhile, around the back of the house, Barry meets W.E. Slaughter (Joe Stevens), a John Hawkes look-alike holding a shotgun. While he ain't no Chop Top from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 in terms of entertainment value, W.E.'s habit of quoting famous people and his cattle prod abuse are at least something to latch onto. People quoted by W.E. in this movie: Ulysses S. Grant, Niccolò Machiavelli, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Voltaire, William Shakespeare, John Paul Jones, and Franklin Delano Roosevelt.
 

 

The best thing about Renée Zellweger's performance is her ability to run in a prom dress. Actually, prom dress or not, Renée is quite the athlete in this flick. Seriously, no one will ever accuse her of "running like a girl." Which reminds me, why doesn't she run more often in movies? The only film I can think of that properly exploits Renée's athleticism is Chicago. Anyway, I'd be interested to know if Renée Zellweger and Matthew McConaughey ever run into one another at fancy Hollywood parties or pompous award shows. And if they do, I wonder if they're still on speaking terms. I mean, the amount of abuse they inflict on each other is off the charts.
 

 

My favourite Renée/Matthew abuse moment is when Vilmer mocks the wheezing sound Jenny makes when she cries. And judging by the genuinely annoyed look on Renée's face while Matthew is imitating her crying technique, I'd say his mocking was improvised. But then again, Renée's face always looks like it's genuinely annoyed. Zing!
 

 

It's a misguided dream of mine to make, or watch (I like to dream small some times), a movie that stars Carmen Nogales. The only catch being, she has to act the way she does for the twenty or so seconds she's in the Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Next Generation. How no one on the set of this film saw the weird energy Carmen was exuding is beyond me. The second she appeared onscreen and started ranting and raving in a red prom dress should have been the moment the writers/producers began making her part bigger. Just think about the amount of nonsensical chaos Carmen Nogales could have caused if she had been given carte blanche in this flick. Pretty amazing, right? Okay, now imagine if she was paired with Lisa Marie Newmyer's Heather (a.k.a. the girl who can't be killed) and Tonie Perensky's Darla Slaughter (a.k.a. Mrs. Black Pantyhose 1994). Judging by your silence, I'll just go ahead and assume that your head just exploded and are currently in the process of picking up the gooey pieces.