Songbird (2020) - SPOILERS

Well, as of writing this review the UK is still in lockdown, our mental and physical health is fucked and so is the economy, the West is now China's bitch and I am slowly turning into Jack Torrance. So you know what that means. That's right, time for Hollywood to cash the fuck in, because only they could take the stark, horrible reality of our situation, ram it through a filter of lens-flares and saccharine bullshit and sell it straight back to us on Amazon for those sweet, sweet Covid bucks. 

Then again by the time all of this is over with, Gambol here wont even have a nickel for his grandma.

ENOUGH of the Lockdowns!

 

So I suppose I can't blame their avarice, I mean we're all looking for ways to make money. I personally am thinking of starting up an Onlyfans account. Can't let Bad Orange Man have all the fun. 

Inevitably the Michael Bay produced viral thriller 'Songbird' has gained a bit of backlash for its cynical exploitation of a worldwide tragedy. And when I say 'backlash' I mean some Twitter randomers decided to act shocked and appalled for likes and retweets and some low level news outlets picked up on it. 'OMG, Covid-23? Dis twailor made me pee my pants!' I know right? A movie exaggerating things for dramatic effect? Say it ain't so. 

'I hate to give this movie attention it doesn't deserve....' Then why do it? Stop typing. Get off the Twatter. There's a whole world out there. Oh wait, most of it's locked down because of measures you and your retarded Twitter spawn brethren probably support. Oh well. Continue to complain about things that don't matter. 

Speaking of complaining about things that don't matter; this movie. It doesn't deserve anywhere near even the minority backlash it's receiving. Not because it's good, if anything it's astoundingly mediocre at best; and not even because it isn't controversial. In fact it seems to go out of its way to NOT say anything controversial. It's just fucking there. Hell, aside from one or two moments involving Peter Stormare channeling Gary Oldman in 'Leon', it isn't even entertaining. 

It's the year 2023. Covid-19 has mutated into Covid-23, presumably because people refused to wear masks during sex. People are holed up in their homes, talking to each other via Skype and getting things delivered to them via courier. So far this sounds almost like how thing were BEFORE the lockdowns. But that's not all; people are subject to regular temperature checks via their phones and if you're found to have a fever then you're assumed to have the Coof and a bunch of nice men in hazmat suits will knock politely on your door and escort you to the concentration ca... I mean, Quarantine Zone for what will no doubt be top quality medical care. 

We follow Nico, one of these couriers whose girlfriend whom he's never met in person finds herself about to be taken to one of these Zones after her mother dies of the Coof, despite the fact that she seems to be immune herself. It's up to Nico to procure an immunity bracelet for his girlfriend before she is menaced to death by Peter Stormare. 

On the face of it, 'Songbird' seems like a fine opportunity to explore themes surrounding the rights of the individual in the midst of a pandemic; or perhaps even how reliant we've become on social media and technology as a means of communicating with each other regardless of any lockdowns. But this is a Michael Bay movie, to expect nuanced social commentary from the man who gave us Skid and Mudflap is a folly to rival the lockdowns themselves.

Realistically the film is a romantic thriller, and despite the film being neither written nor directed by Bay himself, make no mistake, this is a Michael Bay movie. From the glossy production value, needlessly frenetic camerawork and editing and the saccharine, soap opera level dialogue, the only way this could be more Michael Bay is if you extended the runtime to around 3 hours and added an Aerosmith ballad. 

Thankfully this film isn't so cruel; with a runtime of around 85 minutes it doesn't outstay its welcome too long and moves at a decent pace so as to prevent me from gnawing off my own foot in terminal boredom. But in the long run, it still suffers from what I like to call 'Jingling Keys Direction.' It's designed to keep your mind occupied for long enough for you to not realize that what you're watching is a cinematic piss stream. 

And I'm not even talking dark green, opaque with chunks of kidney stone piss either. I'm talking about watery, transparent piss that barely leaves a scent behind and would probably keep a houseplant alive. It's not even bad bad. It lacks the acidity of real bad. Or real good for that matter. 

The story itself is pretty paper thin, with Nico's own story only taking up about a third of the movie. Another third involves an boomer couple, one of which is played by Demi Moore, conspiring with Peter Stormare's character to sell illegal immunity bracelets. The other third involves a disabled war veteran developing a relationship with a YouTube singer, whose only real connection to the rest of the plot is the fact that she's hired by the boomer husband as a personal prostitute. Some interesting ideas never explored in any satisfactory way. 

Whilst the first two thirds of the story connect up enough of a thread for maybe a mediocre 50 minute episode of 'Black Mirror', the last third never really establishes a proper connection to the rest of it, despite the fact that the movie seems to be named for the singer character.

The film's most entertaining aspect is probably Peter Stormare as Harland, the head of the 'Sanitation Department' which has the power to detain people and take them to the camps. As usual Stormare crazies up a storm, stabbing people at random and being generally menacing. He's completely unbelievable as a villain and his backstory only makes things more confusing. Apparently he was a garbage truck driver whose superiors died off one by one and eventually he found himself running things. 

   

Sorry, what? Is this film trying to tell me that if I kill the Mayor of my city and then keep killing his acting replacements, then eventually my entire city will be run by a single street-sweeper? I don't think that's how that works, movie. I don't think local sanitation works the same way as the line to the presidency.

At any rate I just like the fact that Stabby McStabberson here ended up in a position of authority. That's government for you. 

He's not even a competent villain. At one point Demi Moore lures the Nico character into a trap where he meets up with Harland to get some illegal immunity bracelets, and instead of simply having him arrested by the authorities he himself controls, just decides to try and stab him - after all he is Stabby McStabberson - only to get headbutted by Nico who then escapes with the help of some crazy resistance hobo who we never see again for the rest of the movie. 

And once again, the shitty villain death rears its ugly head as Nico ends the saga of Stabby McStabberson with a well placed pencil to the neck. Pencils that the movie took painstaking efforts to establish beforehand. Textbook Chekhov's Gun, movie. I'm proud of you. 

It all kind of ends with everything being wrapped up in a neat little package, despite everything not being wrapped up in a neat little package. Nico and his girlfriend finally get together and leave the city; Demi Moore's character never really receives any kind of comeuppance but her husband's dead, so yay for her; Craig Robinson who plays Nico's boss gets his own illegal immunity bracelet and the Songbird is now free to continue singing songs on YouTube as Nico gives a cringeworthy and optimistic end narration about how 'we weren't delivering packages, we were delivering hope'. 

Yeah bud, delivering hope to rich boomers in gated communities. I'm sure all those people locked up in Tik-Tok Dance Video Training Camps are feeling a lot of that hope right about now. We're all in this together after all.  

Overall Quality Rating - 2/5

The movie uses current events as a jumping off point but pretty much fails to make any kind of use of the backdrop or make any comment on it. As such it's not the freedom movie some anti-lockdowners may hope it to be and nowhere near the irresponsible incitement to disobedience or exploitation of suffering that pro-lockdowners might think. Paper-thin, saccharine and generally stupid, it's only real upside is that it's well produced and isn't too long. 

Idiot Rating - 2/5

Not even much to recommend for hilarity's sake either. Peter Stormare is fun to watch and there are one or two moments that genuinely made me laugh; such as the scene where Demi Moore's husband visits his personal prostitute while wearing a Blue Velvet style oxygen mask and she's wearing fucking PPE along with her sexy lingerie, and no, it isn't played for laughs. Another scene involving the same two characters and a remote control drone with a built on gun is also notable as being one of the more entertaining moments in the film. 

I'm DeadEye and I hope you all catch Hope. 

Roadgames (1981) - In the Outback, No One Can Hear a Dingo Bark

Tell me this, ladies and gents: What do you get when you cross English prisoner DNA, Scottish governance, a land where everything down to the plant life wants to kill you and copious amounts of industrial grain alcohol?

Well there can only be one answer to that.

That's right. Australia. The Land Down Under. The land that gave you AC/DC, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, this video, and probably future war with China. The land that comprises around 90% of the shitposting community despite having the least functional internet of all the OECD countries. And given all that, what other country could provide us with such insane cinema gems as:

Razorback

Dead End Drive-In

The Man From Hong Kong

Harlequin

Day of the Panther

Strike of the Panther

Fair Game

Mad Max

And many others. Chances are if you've seen a Brian Trenchard Smith film, then my friend, you have been Aussied. 

But I'm not here to talk exclusively about the achievements of the Empire (although trust me, it has occurred to me). I'm here to do what I always do which is talk about films I've seen. Which shows you how dull my life is. And as you've no doubt gleaned, I watched an Australian film. A seemingly little known Hitchcockian thriller known as "Roadgames". 

Described by the director, Richard Franklin, as "Rear Window" in a truck; "Roadgames" stars Stacy Keach as Pat Quid, an American trucker in the outback tasked with transporting meat from Melbourne to Perth. On his way he encounters numerous characters such as a woman whose husband leaves her behind on the road for being annoying, the owner of an ill-fated boat, a motorist with an inexplicable number of balls in the back of his car and of course Jamie Lee Curtis as Pamela, a hitchhiker looking for adventure on the road. On this journey he becomes suspicious of a man in a green van as the police hunt for a serial killer who dismembers his victims and leaves their body parts scattered around the country. 

Of course Green Van Man turns out to be the murderer in question and after Pamela is taken hostage by the killer and Quid is fingered by the police as the prime suspect, Quid finds himself in a race against time to track down the killer and save both Pamela and himself.

Firstly, this is no dreary road movie. This film is pure Hitchcock, from the (implied to be sexually motivated) psychopathic antagonist, the witness turned suspect wrongfully pursued by the law, to the very wicked sense of humour, Roadgames isn't covering up its inspiration. No wonder then that it's praised by the likes of Quentin Tarantino, as that's pretty much his career in a nutshell. 

Stacy Keach is by far the best thing about this movie, and given that the rest of the movie is pretty golden, that's saying a lot. He plays a character who is high on intelligence and low on ambition and every moment he's on the screen is entertaining. The fun and fast paced dialogue written by Everett De Roche (writer of "Razorback", "Harlequin", "Long Weekend" and many others) certainly contributes to the overall charm, even when Keach's only acting partner in a scene is a sleepy looking dingo. 

Pat Quid as a character is I guess what you could call a self-trained snob but not insufferably so, frequently claiming that "Just because I drive a truck, doesn't mean I'm a truck driver." His tendency to overanalyze the world around him is only complimented when he picks up hitchhiker Pamela, played by Jamie Lee Curtis, who despite being the Scream Queen and this being a serial killer movie, never actually lets out a scream. But to be fair that's kind of hard to do when you have a sack over your head. Their chemistry is excellent, even to a point where a romantic scene happens between the two and it doesn't really come off cringeworthy despite the age difference between the two characters. 

Stacy Keach himself even said that it was a bit of a coincidence to have two Americans meet in the middle of the Outback, but it works as the idea of the two foreigners in a strange and hostile land only lends itself to the scenes of genuine suspense and dread that comes later in the film. This isn't first time an Everett De Roche scripted film has left me with that sense of dread, as "Long Weekend" managed to scare me with a manatee's corpse. Indeed Greg McLean, director "Wolf Creek", names Roadgames as a definite inspiration for Wolf Creek and it's not hard to see why. 

The killer himself is played by stuntman Grant Page, and in true "Halloween" style he doesn't say a word. We never find out what his motivations are beyond speculation from our main protagonists. All we know is that he kills women and that his wits match that of Pat Quid in their game of cat and mouse across the plains of Australia. Further proving that sometimes the scariest antagonist is the one that's unknown and yet entirely familiar. If I were to lay down one gripe about the film's handling of the killer, I'd say it's that I probably wouldn't have revealed his face so early on. I think it would have lent a more mysterious slant to the character, perhaps even leaving you wondering if he's even real or not, a la "The Hitcher". Indeed the first murder scene makes his first appearance in the blinding light of the hotel bathroom seem almost supernatural and that's kind of undermined a little when you see pretty quickly that he's just some bloke. 

Overall Quality Rating - 4/5

Roadgames is definitely a treat for both Hitchcock fans and fans of Aussie cinema. The film crew actually made the journey that the characters do from Melbourne in Victoria all the way to Perth in Western Australia, so if you're looking for a film that displays the beauty and desolation of the Outback in all its glory, then Roadgames is the film for you. Other than that, it's a classic and highly influential thriller and I recommend it to anyone.

Idiot Rating - 3/5

The film has an excellent sense of humour. Stacy Keach is constantly cracking often Dad level jokes, and the characters that he comes across on his journey are often strange and hilarious in their own right, with special attention paid to a certain man with a certain doomed boat. The film even ends with a very dark piece of comic imagery, meaning you'll be laughing about as much as you'll be fearing for the character's lives. 

I'm DeadEye... g'day mate.

King of New York (1990) - Basically Grand Theft Auto: The Movie

Abel Ferrara may be the most underrated director on the planet, and his 1990 movie, "King of New York", is ample evidence of this fact. He might be more well known for the video nasty "Driller Killer", starring himself; or crime drama "Bad Lieutenant", starring Harvey Keitel's penis; but he should also be commended for often schlocky and exploitative efforts such as rape-revenge movie "Ms. 45", kung-fu serial killer movie "Fear City" (yes, that's what I said, kung-fu serial killer), and unjustly underrated sci-fi horror flick "Body Snatchers". Beyond all that, "King of New York" represents both Ferrara and long-time collaborator and screenwriter Nicholas St. John at their apex. 

At its core "King of New York" is basically a B gangster flick, and some may even mistake it for a low rent version of "Scarface". But fuck that, because having watched it again after years of not seeing it and stupidly watching nonsense like "The Snowman", "King of New York" might be up there as one of my favourite movies. If you don't like this movie then you quite literally have no balls. You were born without genitals.

Or merely lost them.

The film stars Christopher Walken as Frank White; a drug lord who has recently been released from prison having been jailed presumably for being a suspected reptilian. And as can be expected it isn't two seconds after crossing the prison gate threshold that people start dying. The movie throws you straight into the action as Frank White's henchmen on the outside start killing off the competition one by one; and as the film goes on, the rivers of blood get so thick and copious that New York City Council begins talks to invest in a giant tax-payer funded street tampon to steady the flow.

You ever feel... you know... not so fresh?

As soon as Frank is free he begins talks with other drug lords, pimps and drug pimps to engage in some free trade agreements under the presumed intention of funding some inner city children's hospitals. Naturally when they turn him down they find that they have unintentionally purchased themselves first class tickets on the express train to Hell. 

Whilst some gangster flicks revel a little too much in torture or internal gangland politics, "King of New York" presents the audience with quick and wrenching moments of violence that characterize Frank White as a man of ruthless efficiency with little taste for sadism and a sweet tooth for being the man at the top. Some scenes in this movie honestly resemble a "Grand Theft Auto" playthrough and that is by no means a criticism, as Ferrara's almost fly-on-the-wall style of direction (similar to his later effort "Bad Lieutenant") lends a certain level of realism to the events. 

Of course what gangster movie wouldn't be complete without its law enforcement element?  David Caruso, Wesley Snipes and Victor Argo take up Frank White's opposition on the other side of the law. Dennis Gilley, played by Caruso, displays a volatile character, almost as morally questionable as the people he hunts down, and whose actions lead to not only his own downfall but that of his close friends on the force. 

Just about every scene in this film has some memorable element to it. From an opening scene where a rival drug lord makes his way through his palatial home with scantily clad hookers strewn about like crisp packets, only to be gunned down in a phone booth just outside; to an otherwise standard street gun battle that's made eminently more notable with the addition of a gorgeous black woman in a leather jacket and gangster hat careening around the corner in a black car, sticking out of the sun roof and annihilating anything that moves with a machine gun (what did I say about this basically being a GTA movie?). If the film indeed has one flaw it's that its plot moves so quickly that at times some of the scenes be blurry; but this only results in many of the key scenes - such as the night club shooting scene in which Laurence Fishburne dual wields pistols - becoming all the more memorable and almost iconic. 

Again, unlike Ferrara's later and perhaps more well known effort, "Bad Lieutenant", "King of New York" doesn't attempt to throw any kind of moral at you. The closest it comes is in a scene towards the end, and whilst Bad Lieutenant's moral seemed confusing at best and ass-backwards at worst, King of New York condenses it into a single line.

"I spent half my life in prison, I never got away with anything and I never killed anybody who didn't deserve it."

Similar to Tony Montana:

"I never fucked anyone over in my life didn't have it coming to them."

Less a moral than a justification for what Frank White does. And to be fair, it seems born out by what you see in the movie. Frank only seems to kill people he has a personal or moral disapproval of and most of them are other gangsters who engage in practices such as human trafficking and child prostitution. In fact the only arguably innocent guy who Frank kills in the film is Roy Bishop (played by Victor Argo) a police officer. It's only at that point where we see Frank face the consequences of his actions, as he sits in the back of a taxi with a gunshot wound in his stomach and the police slowly closing in on him. 

Is it as dramatic as "Scarface"? No, not really. I mean you can't get much more dramatic than a coked up Cuban murdering scores of gunmen with a grenade launching M16 machine gun, so really the comparison is a tad unfair. But King of New York is not Scarface and it's not trying to be. Whilst Tony Montana meets his maker as a result of actually doing a good thing for once in his life, Frank White's fast paced and debauched lifestyle simply catches up to him. In a way his character and that of David Caruso's follow a very similar path. His own hubris consumes those around him and ultimately leads to his own demise. 

But fuck the analyzing, because even without any subtext or messaging, King of New York is a film fit for a King.

Overall Quality Rating - 5/5   

I love this movie and it's without a doubt one of my favourites. It's visually arresting, its characters are fun to watch despite not being entirely sympathetic, and it's just generally filled wth guns, tits and Christopher Walken looking like he wants to eat you like the lizard person that he is.  

Idiot Rating - 2/5

There are some fun moments such as the first shootout scene where one of Frank's men bursts in yelling "Room Service, motherfucker!" Another notable moment is a scene where Wesley Snipes tries to coax Laurence Fishburne out of hiding during a gun fight by offering him fried chicken. But this is no idiot film. The fun moments are entirely intentional and genuinely funny. Recommended without reservation. 

I'm DeadEye, and Christopher Walken smiles at you while you sleep.