dir: Robert Rodriguez
2007
Now this is more like it...
The essential argument I'm going to put forth here is that Planet
Terror gets right what Death Proof got wrong. The great difficulty I'm
going to have pu****ng this barrow is that I can't really pinpoint as
to why, exactly.
Not 'why' as in 'why am I bothering to inflict my thoughts again on an
entirely uninterested populace' but why as in why it works. And it
does.
Fully embracing the 70s trashy movie aesthetic that it aspires to,
Planet Terror is a balls-out, at times hilarious celebration of the
best that trash cinema used to offer. The footage is deliberately
grained up, butchered and cut and with all sorts of flaws and
imperfections, including fake film burns and 'missing' reel segments.
It also has the kind of dialogue that is as ridiculous as it is
entertaining.
And it has a hot stripper with a gun for a leg taking on legions of
zombie enemies with head and chest bursting alacrity.
Cherry (Rose McGowan) is a go-go dancer who cries every time she
dances, much to the consternation of the management. She decides to up
and quit one night, which works out quite handily.
She bumps into ex-beau El Wray (Freddy Rodriguez) at a local, uh,
establishment called the Boneshack or the Meathut or the Feedbag,
something like that: its claim to fame is that it has the best chilli
in Texas. They argue about jackets and stuff, and the failure of their
relation****p. Gee, I wonder if they get back together or not?
Only time will tell. Speaking of time, simultaneously a group of
military types and a testicles-obsessed scientist (Naveen Andrews)
argue about some mysterious chemical that the military types, led by a
strange, bubbly skinned guy called Muldoon (Bruce Willis) are
desperate for. This evil green gas is released into the atmosphere,
which probably isn't a good thing from an environmental point of view.
Nor is it good for the poor citizens of the town.
This flick has no shortage of subplots and ancillary characters. A
nasty doctor (Josh Brolin) with a hot, lesbian adulterous doctor wife
(Marley Shelton) get into some nasty domestic arguments at work whilst
people are being brought in to the hospital with some ugly symptoms.
Acne, some zombiism, nothing too serious.
El Wray and Cherry are attacked whilst driving, and, wouldn't you know
it, the bastards rip off her right leg. In other films this would
result in a character dealing with the aftermath over the course of
several painful months as she comes to terms with the loss, the blow
to her self-image, the difficult rehabilitation and readjustment to
her life as a disabled person. It'd be a five hanky weepy, at the very
least. Starring Julia Roberts or Jodie Foster.
In a flick like this, though, El Wray whacks a table leg into the
stump as a stop gap measure, and they're off to take on the world.
I can't begin to describe how much I enjoyed the insanity and general
shlocky cheesiness of this whole confection. Actually, now that I
think about it, of course I can. If I couldn't there'd be no point
writing the review. Robert Rodriguez not only directs but he does
everything else bar the catering on the flick, including coming up
with the kind of 70s John Carpenter soundtrack that his flicks were
known for. It greatly meshes with the whole production.
The acting, which is pure Roger Corman biker picture over-the-top,
perfectly synchs as well with the production, leading to numerous gem
moments. I really enjoyed little pocket rocket Freddy Rodriguez as El
Wray, especially when the police's attempts to keep him gunless result
in scenes where he straps on the surgical gloves and brings out the
knives in order to go to town on the town's zombies in the most gory
and acrobatic manner possible.
It is so gloriously over-the-top that when the moment arrives where El
Wray lovingly attaches a machine gun with a RPG launcher attachment to
Cherry's leg stump, it doesn't seem either out of character or out of
place. Of course, when she starts using it to propel herself around
and to mow down the opposition, I defy anyone not to consider these
scenes the funniest **** of this or any other recent year.
Rodriguez has made flicks like this before, with far too many
characters, with excessive violence and a complete disregard for
logic, gravity, common sense or any sense, for that matter. Once Upon
a Time in Mexico is a case in point. Not to belabour the point, but
for me, it never worked for a second there, but works ever so well
here.
Of course he knows it's self-parody, and that it can't be done in any
other way. The profound difference betwixt the two halves of
Grindhouse, or at least Rodriguez's flick and Tarantino's instalment
Death Proof, is that Planet Terror doesn't take itself anywhere near
as seriously yet still manages to be highly entertaining.
Also, there isn't the relentless hipster self-love that permeates
almost everything that Tarantino does. You can't help but feel with
Tarantino that many of his cinematic moments are constructed with the
intention of beating the viewer over the head with just how ****ing
cool Tarantino is for knowing and celebrating obscure songs and film
references from the 70s, and especially for including them in his
flicks. How grateful we should be to him that he deigns to brighten
our miserable lives with his constant homaging of homages. He's *so*
dreamy.
Rodriguez doesn't bother with that ****. Sure there are a million
references and a ****load of ripoffs here, but his intention is to
make this as insane and as entertaining as Sin City was, rather than
just replicating the cir***stances created in some other era alone.
And he gets the actors to play stock characters in a way that is
simultaneously straight and camp at the same time. There's a passion
here that is palpable but distinctly different from the self-
pleasuring reach-around Tarantino goes for.
I'm not totally sure; maybe it's just that Planet Terror was a hell of
a lot more fun. It's not some flick that will manage to illuminate
audiences as to the horrors of genocide in Darfur, the ethical
wrongness of the blood diamond trade, or the aftermath of the Bosnian
conflict, but it sure as **** manages to be entertaining. And had I
been drunk when I watched it, I bet I would have thought it was the
greatest B movie ever made.
And I ask for little else. Still, you prospective watchers/downloaders
need to know that my aesthetics and sense of humour are significantly
different from your own. I mean, you're an epicurean, a picker and
sampler of the delights life offers in smorgasbord/ buffet form. I'm
more like the guy who puts tartare sauce on good food in order to be
able to choke it down with my cheap cask wine.
So wonder much, wonder often when I dare to make my proclamations
about the relative worth of various movies.
Sandro - 8 times I think Cherry and her gun leg are one of the most
killer cinematic images I've seen in many a year out of 10
--
"I'm Cherry."
- "You sure are." - Planet Terror
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