You wish your mom was like mine.

I love my mom. Not only did she (along with my dad) do a great job raising me and my two sisters, she has continued to be an active presence in my life after I’ve left home. Case in point: Over the last six months, she has not only humored my desire to construct costumes for events I’ve hosted at the Alamo Drafthouse, she’s jumped right in and made the projects her own.

Growing up, I was always one of the lucky kids when it came time for Halloween. While other parents would go out and buy their kid a cheap rubber mask or slab some grease paint on their face and call it a costume, my mom spent the weeks leading up to Halloween working on designer costumes for me and my sisters. And since I didn’t like to wear any type of make-up or face paint as a kid (I have bad memories of not being able to get werewolf fur off my face after a fall festival at my pre-school), she specialized in masks and costumes.

As a kid, I was everything from a Killer Tomato to Batman to Venom to Ghost Rider to Mike from The Blair Witch Project and all of those costumes were made from scratch. As you can see, I was a movie/comic geek from the start. My mom even found a creative solution when I wanted to be a werewolf for a different Halloween but didn’t want to glue fur onto my face again. Instead, she glued fake fur onto a hockey mask — allowing me to have my very own custom removable werewolf mask.

I wish I had pictures of more of those costumes. Once I can find some (I know they exist somewhere) I’ll update this blog.

One of the benefits of living close to my parents in the last few years has been my ability to tap into my mom’s creativity a lot more often than I was able to in college or the years immediately following. When I hosted a double feature screening of Best Worst Movie and Troll 2 at the Houston Alamo Drafthouse last August, I envisioned a wealth of costumes for the night. I had seen a live production of Everything is Terrible earlier in the month and I wanted to capture some of the comedy troupe’s magic. I wanted to do my own production and that meant troll (or goblin, as the case may be) costumes.

Since I didn’t have any way of making latex masks, I decided to do the next best thing – use paper mache. Turning to my mom for help, I put a layer of paper mache over three large balloons. I also used some plaster to help keep the masks sturdy. Since August is a busy time of the year for me at work, my mom volunteered to tackle the masks’ paint jobs. I left her with a copy of Troll 2 along with several pictures I had printed off the Internet. As I would go visit her, I grew more and more excited at the masks she was assembling.

She had taken the basic look of the goblins from Troll 2 but added her own artistic touch to them. Using material she had around the house, she gave the goblins a full set of hair, neck bibs, green-stained teeth and an evil glint in their felt eyes. They looked like the monsters of the movie but they also looked like something she could have come up with. It was like my mom was a musician doing a cover version of The Rolling Stones.

Big thanks to www.wonderbros.com for taking photos at the Alamo event.

Not only did she make the troll masks, she made me an almost exact replica of the outfit worn by Peter during the opening scene of Troll 2.

I don’t have any pictures (yet) but imagine a felt hat and a vegetable vest. Taken by the idea that the goblins of Troll 2 were vegetarians, my mom made the vest out of material that featured a selection of vegetables as its decorative pattern.

The costumes being a hit at the screening, I immediately went to work thinking up our next collaboration. I didn’t get another chance to work on a costume with her, though, until Halloween.

My friends Mandy and Cliff Holverson are a pair of Houston make-up artists. Every year they throw a Halloween party at their house. While my costume last year (of which my mom helped brainstorm) was kinda creative, it lacked a sort of oomph.

This year I was determined to come up with something more unique. For the last several months, I had my heart set on a Kuato costume from the film Total Recall. Every day I would look at the Tyler Stout / Mondo Tees Total Recall poster that hangs on my living room wall and my resolve would only grow. I imagined grand plans that involved robotics, voice chips and more paper mache. Unfortunately, time quickly passed and before I knew it I was a week away from the party without having even begun my costume.

Naturally, I turned to my mom for help. We brainstormed a bit and I left my parents’ home with an idea on how we were going to get the costume ready in a week. While I searched around for a plastic baby mask and a muscle t-shirt, my mom went to work constructing the body. The body is made out of panty hose stuffed with cotton. Veins are painted on and muscles formed with thread and glue. My mom, always attentive to details, even painted finger nails onto the mutant growth. I bought the baby mask and my mom touched it up with some paint, added eyes and sewed it onto the body she had made.

Since I couldn’t find a muscle shirt (I thought The Situation was supposed to be one of this year’s top costumes?), my mom actually painted one. She bought a pink shirt and added a full six-pack of muscles to it. You can’t really see them very well because Kuato ended up being sewed on right over the muscles but if you look carefully, you can still see the nipples my mom painted on. Who knew she apprenticed under Joel Schumacher.

The costume came out amazing. I borrowed an old army jacket to hide the fact I was wearing a pink shirt and enjoyed the compliments that came at the party. On the drive home, though, I realized I had wasted my good Halloween costume idea a week before Halloween. Pictures were already on Facebook and the cat was out of the bag. I was hosting a horror movie marathon at the Alamo Drafthouse on Halloween day and I needed something really creative that would surpass the accolades I had already received from my Kuato costume. I needed Sharktopus.

If you haven’t already been convinced my mom is beyond awesome, not only did she readily agree to help me build a Sharktopus costume within a week, she did it with glee.

Together with my dad, we brainstormed ways we could build a Sharktopus mask. I originally envisioned doing something similar to this hyena costume my mom helped me make when I was in high school.

We quickly settled on an easier tactic. I constructed a quick prototype of how the mask would work out using butcher paper and duct tape and we were off.

The costume would be made out of three parts. The first was a mask made up of grey vinyl and a thin white material. Using the butcher paper prototype as a pattern, we cut out the front of the mask out the white material and the back out of the grey vinyl. My mom sewed the two pieces together while I started working on the tentacles.

Four tentacles were made by taking pool noodles, cutting them in half and then sewing grey cloth coverings for them. Suction cups were made out of felt. My arms and legs formed the four remaining tentacles. For these tentacles’ suction cups, we used felt glued onto plastic furniture sliders.

By that point, the rough shape of the mask was in place. For the front, we cut a hole for me to peer out of and placed red mesh over the hole. Teeth were built out of foam and painted red. Felt eyes were glued onto the back of the mask and gills drawn on with sharpie. A fin was sewn/glued onto the back of my mask.

For the torso, I took a grey long-sleeved shirt (with suckers attached) and my mom painted a white belly onto the front. Grey flippers were made out of remaining pieces of vinyl and sewn onto the shoulders.

The last touch was suggested by my dad. I took some invisible wire and attached it to the tips of my two front tentacles. The other end of the wire was wrapped around my wrists so that when I moved my arms my tentacles would also move.

Her goblin costumes received compliments from the cast and crew of Best Worst Movie and Troll 2, she won a trophy for her Kuato costume and the Sharktopus suit was a hit at the Drafthouse on Halloween. Even still, my mom doesn’t quite get how popular her costumes are. I’m trying to convince her to go into business making costumes for movie geeks now that she’s retired from her life-long career as a nurse.

In the meantime, though, you can be sure I’ll be using her to build more costumes for upcoming Alamo events or just for the heck of it. I already have a great idea for a costume that combines two characters from two off-beat Christmas movies.

If you have any questions on how any of these costumes were made or would like to see additional pictures, just let me know.

Feel free to use any of these pictures but please give credit where credit is due. Or else I’ll sick Sharktopus on you.

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Turn the right corner in Sin City, and you can find anything…

It’s been five years since Robert Rodriguez, Frank Miller and Quentin Tarantino dropped Sin City on audiences’ laps and the film’s legacy is apparent everywhere you look — from green-screen heavy films such as 300 to Mickey Rourke’s career resurgence. When taken at face value, though, Sin City may seem nothing but a pubescent boy’s late night dream — full of babes, bullets and booze.

Militant call girls wield automatic weapons and swastika-shaped throwing stars as yellow skinned child molesters stalk the seedy underbelly of Basin City. Decapitations, disembowelments and dismemberments are commonplace occurrences in Frank Miller color-deprived world. Despite the depraved plot twists waiting around every darkened alley, something exists in Sin City that screams bloody poetry.

When describing its coolness factor, it’s easy to bring up the meticulously executed visuals. With the stark black-and-white coloring and the occasional splotch of vibrant primaries, Sin City is certainly a stroke of retrograde noir genius. But, it isn’t just the use of visual tones and set dressing that separates the film from its predecessors. There exists — buried in the gratuitously bloody monster that is the film — the heart of a soft-spoken poet.

Adapted from comic book artist Frank Miller’s series of crime infused comics, Sin City was born of the unholy alliance of Miller and director Robert Rodriguez.

Rodriguez, best known for his hyper-kinetic action sequences, helped Miller translate his stark, and often unsettling, artwork to the big screen. Using a system of panel-to-shot replications, the dynamic duo gave creative birth to a living breathing funny book that is anything but kid friendly.

In The Long Goodbye, audiences were introduced to Marv (Mickey Rourke), a scar-faced, nigh-unstoppable bruiser.

After waking up with the dead body of a one-night stand nuzzling against him, Marv embarks on a path toward revenge-driven redemption. As the brutish bulldozer carves a bloody path toward the identity of his lover’s killer, he ponders his own sanity.

In The Big Fat Kill, Clive Owen played Dwight, a Converse-sporting ex-con sent on a mission to dispose of the body of a corrupt policeman. After a drunken slime bag of a cop (Benicio Del Toro) winds up on the receiving end of the red light district’s vengeance, Dwight must hide the resulting body before the delicate truce between the police and prostitutes is torn asunder.

The violence is extreme and the ladies sexy, as characters become entwined in escalating events. While Miller’s characters dress like there is a clothing famine, the females in Sin City exert a strong domineering power that the Spice Girls could only hope to channel.

Instead of quivering beneath the gloved hand of a pimp, these ladies of the night rule their own lives and are not above carving up a couple of rough-housing party seekers.

This segment also featured a scene guest-directed by Quentin Tarantino.

That Yellow Bastard stared Bruce Willis as a soon-to-be retired cop who saved a young girl named Nancy from the child-molesting son of a U.S. senator. Thanks to the wounded pedophile’s father, Hartigan (Willis) is locked in jail and left to rot. The knowledge that the girl’s innocence was preserved is the only thing that keeps Hartigan alive as his name is dragged through the mud and he loses everything he once held dear. When he learns that the girl, who has grown into the curvaceous Jessica Alba, may be in danger, he stops at nothing to put a final end to the yellow bastard who threatens her.

The nuanced subtleties that exist in Sin City were never more evident than in the brilliant acting job delivered by Willis.

When Hartigan discovers that Nancy has grown into Sin City’s top exotic dancer, his soul is torn. Even though he managed to save Nancy’s virtue from the clutches of the senator’s son, her brief flirtation with evil has forever tainted her soul. No longer is Nancy the pure child he saved all those years ago; she has become a reflection of the city in which she dwells. Drawn together by their lost lives, Nancy and Hartigan become connected in a way that is a little touching and a little creepy.

Sin City is a stunning piece of cinema that masqueraded its subtle morality tales beneath an ironically colorful collection of killer characters and killer visuals.

If you took the time to look beyond the cries of gratuitous violence and overtly underdressed women, you may just have found a reflection of mankind’s own dark soul and the shinning humanity that exits underneath.

Shortly after the film was released, talk immediately began about a sequel — which has yet to actually go further then just talk. I seem to recall the Weinstein brothers also throwing around discussions about a possible television show spin-off. I wonder if a script was ever written for the TV show or if the talks were just that — talk.

Last year Sin City was released on Blu-ray and it looks absolutely stunning. The computer-generated graphics and a pristine print have convinced me to adopt Sin City as my official go-to disc whenever I wish to show off my home theater system. If you haven’t already, upgrade your DVD copy ASAP. Your eyeballs (and ears) will thank you.

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Fascinating documentary about a fascinating culture.

Neil Diamond, the Cree filmmaker not the singer, has put together a really fascinating look at Native Americans and how they influenced Hollywood — and how Hollywood influenced them.

Reel Injun uses interviews and archive footage to take a peak behind some of the most prevalent myths and legends that have sprung from America’s cinematic fascination with indigenous people.

The documentary focuses on Diamond as he sets out on a journey from his home in Canada to the hills of Hollywood — with pit stops along the way to pay tribute to some of film’s biggest American Indian legacies — including the son of Iron Eyes Cody (the actor most famous for being the crying Indian in the “Keep America Beautiful” PSA — who ironically was not actually Native American but Italian).

The movie is sometimes enlightening, often funny and always engrossing.

Among the people interviewed for the film are Adam Beach, Clint Eastwood and Sacheen Littlefeather — the Native American activist who found infamy when she memorably declined Marlon Brando’s Academy Award after he won for The Godfather.

Sprinkled among the interviews, Diamond reflects on his own childhood spent growing up on a steady diet of cowboy and Indian movies — with his younger self more often then not associating with the cowboys more then the Indians.

The film liberally uses archive footage from some of Hollywood’s most memorable portrayals of Native Americans (from John Wayne’s films to The Fast Runner) to showcase how much (and sometimes little) the stereotypes surrounding America’s indigenous population has changed.

While parts of the film can drag a bit, there is always some new and interesting factoid to pull audiences back into the proceedings.

Some really interesting observations about a culture’s identity and the role Hollywood has had in shaping it can be found in the documentary. Combined with beautifully shoot footage of Diamond’s journey through Native Americana and some great interviews, Reel Injun is a film completely worth checking out at SXSW.

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Isn’t it time for a documentary about time?

Phantom of Liberty II is a free-flowing documentary that explores time and its impact on people — more or less. A Czech Republic/German production, Phantom of Liberty II is kind of like an episode of This American Life if radio host Ira Glass had attention deficient disorder. While not a direct sequel to Serge Silberman’s 1974 film The Phantom of Liberty, both movies share a similar structure.

Director Karel Zalud’s film, shot beautifully on 35mm, meanders from subject to subject looking for stories that illustrate the behaviors and outlooks that are elicited by the passing of time. A mostly unseen narrator keeps the camera moving, quickly leaving subjects even if they are not completely done telling their mostly mundane anecdotes.

With a style evoking Richard Linklater’s Slackers, Phantom of Liberty II visits with a wide selection of mostly unconnected and seemingly randomly found citizens — including a funeral director, a train operator, a group of elderly actors and a businessman.

Keeping with the documentary’s theme, Phantom of Liberty II is edited in a non-linear, almost circular fashion. The documentary subjects’ selection radiates out from the movie’s beginning, eventually forming a full circle much like a clock’s face — ending where the movie began with its first subject.

While I would love to recommend Phantom of Liberty II to everybody, I cannot. While the film, with its intricate scale and epic scope, was interesting to watch — it is very much for a niche audience. Specifically, those interested in experimental film.

It’s a complex movie worth discussion, but in a festival as large and varied as South by Southwest, Phantom of Liberty II is doomed by the very thing the film documents — the limitations of a person’s available time.

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Oh Joe D’Amato, you always knew how to make a movie fan blush.

This month Severin Films will release The Alcove on DVD. This 1984 film from director D’Amato and writer Ugo Moretti is essentially what it would look like if Larry Flynt made a Merchant Ivory film.

An Italian production, this dubbed DVD is one penetration shot away from being a hardcore porno wrapped up in a crunchy period costume drama shell.

Laura Gemser stars as Zerbal, the daughter of a tribal king who is given as a slave to Elio De Silveris, a solder/poet played by Al Cliver.

Upon returning home from the Zulu war with his Nubian treasure, De Silveris presents the newest addition to the household to his ravishing wife, Alessandra (played by Lili Carati).

Alessandra, who was previously cheating on her husband with his young female secretary Wilma (Annie Belle), begins to lust after the lithe (and frequently nude) body of Zerbal.

Essentially, The Alcove is 90+ minutes of “who’s having sex with who.”

There are lesbian love scenes, shots o’ plenty of self-gratification and more oral sex then you can shake an ornately carved wooden dildo at. There’s one of those too.

For those movie fans that like a little nudity in their foreign films, The Alcove has more bush then Oliver Stone’s W.

Oh, and did I mention that there was a rape scene featuring a character dressed as a nun?

The Alcove is not, I repeat not, the type of movie you want to sit down and watch with Grandma. In fact, I’m not even sure it’s the type of movie you want to sit down and watch at all. While I guess the movie could be considered a classy sexplotation film, it really is more of a porno then anything else.

A threadbare plot involving jealousy, slavery and seduction exists only to move audiences from one graphic sex scene into the next.

Joe D’Amato always fancied himself an auteur (even though he was one of the “criminals” responsible for Troll 2) and he certainly treats The Alcove as an art film. Beautifully shot and with a musical score that sounds almost Bacharach-ian, the movie looks and sounds better then any film like it has the right to.

The acting, you’ll excuse me for saying, sucks – but that’s all the cast is really required to do, along with blow, fondle and tweak.

I swear I haven’t seen this many erect nipples since my days in college — where a combination of an all boys dorm and a lighting fast internet connection led to the dormitory’s walls almost seeming to bleed pornography in the same way the Overlook Hotel’s walls seeped blood.

I can only really recommend The Alcove to horny men and women looking to get some blood rushing to there bathing suit areas while watching a movie. Don’t go expecting any type of plot or character development. The movie was made for only one reason alone — to show as many scenes of Laura Gemser walking around nude as possibly could be filmed.

But hey — who am I to complain?

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Hulk smash puny Gladiator comparisons.

Watching the recent batch of animated movies based on Marvel Comics’ line of super heroes has been, in a lot of ways, like a series of drunken one-night stands.

In 2006, when the first film Ultimate Avengers was released straight-to-DVD, fans of Marvel Comics were lonely and desperate for a bit of (animated super hero) action. While Batman and Superman had enjoyed their time in the spotlight during the glory days of Bruce Timm and his team of animators, Marvel’s pantheon of heroes were several years away from their time dominating Saturday morning cartoons. They had never, in fact, even had an animated movie to call their own (unless you count that 1980’s Japanese cartoon loosely based on The Tomb of Dracula).

Fans were desperate and willing to go home with just about anybody.

So when Ultimate Avengers appeared in video stores nationwide, fans devoured it. Parades were held and dreams forged of future movies staring everybody’s favorite four-colored heroes.

As the dust settled, though, and fans woke up in bed next to Ultimate Avengers and it’s sequels and spin-offs — they realized the movies were, in fact, terrible films. They were poorly animated and, even worse, downright boring at times.

With the seventh film to be released from Marvel Animation and Lionsgate Home Entertainment, though, fans need not worry about having to go all coyote ugly and gnaw off their own arm to escape Planet Hulk.

The film is, surprisingly, pretty downright badass.

I’ll admit to not having read all the issues of The Incredible Hulk this animated movie is based on. While I only browsed a few stray issues of Greg Pak and Carlo Pagulayan’s original comics, I know enough about the story to realize that Planet Hulk, the film, is pretty faithful to Planet Hulk, the comic.

When the rest of Earth’s super heroes get tired of the Hulk, the green raging behemoth, a few of the world’s most powerful heroes (including Iron Man, Dr. Strange, Mr. Fantastic and Black Bolt — the latter two covered in shadows perhaps due to licensing rights issues) get together, put Hulk on a shapeship and send him hurtling into the depths of space.

When he crash lands on a planet ruled by a tyrannical despot calling himself the Red King, the Hulk is sentenced to a life as a gladiator. Before you can say “Russell Crowe,” the Hulk is trussed up in armor and given a sword so that he can battle all sorts of alien menaces — including robots, rock men and even Beta Ray Bill — everybody’s favorite horse-faced Thor clone. The Hulk enters into an uneasy alliance with his fellow gladiators and, together, they attempt to earn their freedom and — if the rest can convince the Hulk to give a damn — overthrow the king’s rule.

The movie combines elements of the aforementioned Gladiator and John Carter of Mars, mixes it up with some good old fashioned super heroics and concocts a cartoon that is action-packed and, sometimes, surprisingly violent.

During the gladiator combat, limbs are severed, eyes exploded and blood splatters the ground with the frequency of a comic book purist’s cries of “what about continuity?” while reading Jeph Loeb.

That’s not all — a sub-plot of the film deals with a mysterious weaponized spore that transforms people (including children) into hideously deformed zombies that need to be put down with extreme prejudice. This film is not for the kiddies.

While there’s plenty of action to be had in Planet Hulk, the plot is not completely bare either. While not exactly high concept, the storyline moves along at a brisk pace keeping even the most novice of super hero fans entertained — even if they don’t exactly know what’s going on.

This movie seems to be made entirely for fans of the genre. That’s to say, there isn’t a whole lot of exposition.

While a lot of movie watchers (especially those buying a movie called Planet Hulk) are familiar with the origins of the Hulk and don’t necessarily need the tale retold for the umpteenth time — very little explanation is given to some of the ancillary characters that make an appearance in the film.

When Thor and his Asgardian-powered alien pal, Beta Ray Bill, make an appearance, there is absolutely no explanation given to who these characters are — audiences are assumed to either know who the two hammer-wielding heroes are already or not care as such.

Likewise when the Hulk goes from a rampaging monster at the beginning of the flick into an unlikely anti-hero that can not only be reasoned with but is prone to cracking (admittedly deadpan) jokes, audiences are expected to just go with it.

For fans of Marvel, though, filmmakers fill the movie with plenty of easter eggs — including appearances by members of the Guardians of the Galaxy, a cosmic superhero team.

The animation, while not up to the standards of most of Warner Brothers’ DC Comics animated movies, is a big step up from the earlier Marvel cartoon flicks.

On Blu-ray, the film looks downright pretty in places — with color that pops and a fluidity to the action.

The Blu-ray comes with a wealth of special features including two audio commentaries, a half-hour featurette about the making of the film and a short segment about the history of the story.

The disc also comes with a preview of the upcoming Thor: Tales of Asgard animated movie — a film that looks to be just as entertaining as Planet Hulk — even if it won’t come out until 2011. With the animation looking pretty finished, I have to wonder what’s going to take them so long to get the next movie released. My guess is that they are waiting to coincide with the Thor live-action film.

In addition, the Blu-ray comes with bonus episodes of Wolverine and the X-Men and the motion-comics Spider-Woman and Astonishing X-Men, the latter of which was written by Buffy the Vampire Slayer mastermind Joss Whedon.

A few (terrible) music videos are also included — serving as little more then a promotion for Marvel’s line of motion-comics.

A digital copy of the film is also included.

While Planet Hulk may not be a perfect film — it’s pretty entertaining. Especially for a movie released by a studio that doesn’t exactly have the best track record for making animated movies.

While probably not recommended for the youngest Hulk fan in your house, Planet Hulk should be a welcome addition to the collection of any fanboy or fangirl you know. Hulk smash, indeed.

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It’s Grrrrreat!

They’ve been dismissed as jokes for years. Made into breakfast cereal mascots, fashion inspiration for your overweight aunt and sight gags in raunchy Las Vegas comedies; tigers have been the laughing stock at the Association of Giant Carnivorous Mammals Convention for some time now.

Burning Bright is a horror film that sets out to make tigers scary again. And guess what? It succeeds. It turned me into a ‘fraidy cat when it comes to giant felines with stripes. I can’t even look at my housecat without wetting myself a little.

Burning Bright is a 2010 film directed by Carlos Brooks from a script by Christine Coyle Johnson and Julie Prendiville Roux. David Higgins contributed to the story.

Briana Evigan plays Kelly, a young woman looking to enroll in college. Unfortunately, her mother’s suicide has left her the sole responsible caretaker for her young autistic brother. Kelly’s attempts to enroll her brother into a special school are dashed when she discovers her good-for-nothing stepfather has used all the money to buy a tiger for the new safari ranch he is building in the backyard.

Now, Kelly must return home with her brother and hunker down for safety as a hurricane prepares to blow through town. Unfortunately, her stepfather has more faults than simply being bad with money. Looking to cash in on the sizable life insurance policies he bought for his step-children, he sets the tiger loose in their house and heads to the nearest bar

The windows and doors boarded up to prepare for the storm, Kelly and her brother are trapped in the house with a tiger that hasn’t been fed for two weeks. Meow?

What may seem like a cheesy SyFy original movie is actually a taut thriller with some seriously sweet scares. I am astonished with myself over how much I enjoyed Burning Bright — but then again, I’ve always had a fondness for killer critter films.

With surprisingly effective special effects and camera tricks, the filmmakers never once drop the illusion that Kelly and her brother are trapped in the house with the tiger. The jungle cat used to film the movie may have been a real sweetie pie but the beast it portrays in the film — nicknamed Lucifer by his owner — is one scary mofo.

More so, the cat has character. Like the best movie monsters, Lucifer is given the proper balance of attitude and menace as he stalks through the house after his prey. From using his gigantic tongue to slowly lap up the sweat that falls from a frightened Kelly as she hides in a laundry shoot to the way he seemingly plays with his two victims like your housecat might play with a bug, Lucifer is one scary pussy.

As its frightened victim, Briana Evigan does an admirable job channeling equal parts Jamie Lee Curtis and Sigourney Weaver — allowing herself some scenes in which she is a soaking mess of tears and fears and other scenes in which she takes charge and impresses the audience with her ability to kick some striped ass.

Young actor Charlie Tahan plays Kelly’s autistic brother. At both her obligation and her biggest weakness, the boy is prone to tantrums — prone to wandering away and other assorted behaviors that would make him obvious tiger chow.

By making the boy autistic, the film seems a bit exploitative. At the same time, having to watch out for her young brother’s behavior — behavior that is extremely likely to get them noticed by the tiger and subsequently eaten — gives the film an added bit of tension. Making the boy autistic is a risky choice — one that I feel ultimately pays off and more than makes up for any insensitivity to the real illness that may be present.

Garret Dillahunt plays Johnny Gavineau, Kelly’s bastard of a stepfather. While I never quite buy his motivation — he doesn’t show audiences he’s evil enough to commit such a horrible act as he does — Dillahunt does a fine job with the role he’s given. There’s a great scene at the beginning of the film where Johnny buys the tiger from an ornery circus performer (played by Meat Loaf) that really sets the tone for the rest of the film. Full of overblown tension and exaggerated dread, the scene sets up the fact that Lucifer the tiger is one evil kitty — a killer who enjoys the hunt.

The real star of the movie is the tiger. Using a combination of real animals, animatronic puppets and CGI, the filmmakers were able to believable bring the movie’s monster to life. Lucifer is more believable a threat than most horror movie monsters you will see this year.

In case you didn’t recognize the film title’s reference to the William Blake poem, Burning Bright wears its self-seriousness on its sleeve — the film’s DVD opens with a reading of the poem itself. Thankfully, it is this same tone that helps the film from sinking into the realm of schlock and silliness that most killer animal movies dwell.

Burning Bright takes itself very serious. Eventually audiences can’t help but do the same.

The film gets its cues from Jaws in that it features a slow burn on the path towards the full reveal of the film’s central monster. While Burning Bright doesn’t quite offer the same emotional connection with its characters as Steven Spielberg’s classic did, Burning Bright does successfully mimic the man versus animal terror that Spielberg mined so well.

Low on gore and high on concept, Burning Bright is a horror movie more than worth checking out. It features a great story, a ferocious monster and a beautiful girl who has to battle both inner and physical demons. What more can you ask for in a scary movie?

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A Christmas poem

This November, while you are shifting through the huddled masses of frenzied shoppers — all of them beady-eyed and borderline dangerous in their search of a good shopping deal — just keep reminding yourself that it’s worth it.

Sure you may be risking life and limb as you engage in mortal combat with fellow bargain-hunters over who will grab the last three dollar toaster at Target, but at least you’ll be saving yourself a handful of cash — with your self-dignity being the only expense you can’t redeem a coupon for.

To assist you in your shopping adventure, I present a seasonal diversion: a Christmas poem celebrating the joy of materialism.

Enjoy.

Friends Don’t Buy Friends Full-Screen DVDs

A Christmas Poem by Robert Saucedo

Every Aggie down in Aggieland liked widescreen DVDs a lot …

Even more than country-music superstar Willie Nelson loves his pot.

This wasn’t true, though, for the Grinch who lived north of Northgate.

He saw enormous black bars on his television and was filled with hate.

Come Christmas Eve, at the market the Grinch stood.

Lord only knows, he was up to no good.

His cogs were a-turning, his mind scheming a scheme.

He bought for his friends DVDs fully full-screened.

He clutched in his hands pan-and-scan gifts.

Paying for the abominations, he let out a sniff.

“Bah humbug to letterbox,” he snarled with a sneer.

“On widescreen a pox,” he let go with a leer.

He purchased full-screen, despite the loss of detail and depth.

For such a massive mistake to make, one must be on crystal meth.

“My friends won’t care if half an intended shot is missing.”

For the director’s consent, he was not fishing.

Jerky movements mar a pan-and-scanned disk.

The loss of story info will indeed be missed.

Without widescreen, 45 percent of the visual is lost.

Those “two black bars” are well worth the cost.

Letterboxing a film gives viewers the original aspect ratio.

Full-screen must go the way of Billy Blanks, master of tai bo.

After one hour of widescreen watching, the bars are soon forgotten.

It’s easier than you think to ignore black bars, top and bottom.

Despite a smaller visual proportion, you see more of the frame.

Full-screen, my friends, is quite simply not the same.

None of this concerned the Grinch.

Ignoring valuable facts, for him, was a cinch.

Come Christmas morning, the Grinch’s pals woke to presents a-gleaming.

As they opened their gifts, two words stood a-screaming.

“Full Screen” was stamped on their DVDs’ labels,

Their viewing pleasures forever disabled.

“What about the original aspect ratio!” His friends let out a cry.

“You stole half of my movie,” his friends sobbed, as they dabbed at their eyes.

Friends don’t buy friends full-screen DVDs.

The reasons are even obvious to the birds and the bees.

Come Christmas time, take note as you shop:

Nobody likes movies that come from the box cropped.

I apologize for any trauma reading that poem may have given your Christmas spirit. Nobody said I was a poet.

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Talk about going to the dogs.

In 1997 movie fans were introduced to a character that would prove to be so popular, he would spawn four sequels and a spin-off franchise that consisted of an additional four separate films. These nine movies would cement this character’s place in film history — for better or worse.

I, of course, am talking about Air Bud, the dog who plays sports better then most humans live their lives.

While Air Bud has long since been retired (probably enjoying his twilight years as a sports commentator on ESPN 2), his children have carried on his legacy with the Air Buddies series of films.

While Air Bud was the jack-of-all-trades when it came to sports, his children, it seems, were given the short straw when it came to the sports gene. Instead of being able to play any sport with equal talent, the pups are each assigned a particular sport (and personality) to conform to during the films.

B-Dawg, a hip-hop centric pup, plays basketball. Budderball, a dog with a constant appetite for treats, plays football. Rosebud, the only female in the group (who of course, like all girls, is obsessed with fashion), plays soccer. Bud-dha plays baseball and is obsessed with meditation and spiritual oneness. Finally, Mudball, a laid-back slacker with a penchant for getting dirty, plays volleyball.

By bringing together a collection of stereotypes, clichés and cliques, the films are essentially The Breakfast Club of sports dog movies.

In Santa Buddies, the latest film staring America’s most-tolerated talking dogs, the pups must team up with Puppy Paws, the son of Santa’s partner in Christmas, Santa Paws.

Yes, it seams that Christmas is too big of a task for a simple human to pull off so he must team yearly with a talking dog in order to deliver presents to all the good boys, girls and puppies. Kittens are screwed.

When Puppy Paws decides he no longer wants any part of the Christmas racket and only wants to be a normal puppy, he escapes from the North Pole to find the Air Buddies, a group of dogs he feels to be the epitome of good ol’ fashioned puppy Americana.

Unfortunately, with Puppy Paws gone, the North Pole’s magic reserve is in danger of running out of juice. Can the Air Buddies convince Puppy Paws of his place in the world and take him back home before Christmas is ruined for everybody?

It’s a Disney movie — what do you think?

The film ultimately suffers from a lack of anything remotely resembling excitement. For talking animals that are also walking clichés, the dogs in the movies are completely devoid of character. Sure, the dogs each have their own unique personality, but almost 80 percent of the film is spent on static camera shots of the dogs sitting perfectly still as their mouths are moved via computer effects and dubbed children’s voices say inane drivel about the meaning of Christmas and holiday magic.

With an emphasis on puppies standing still as they talk instead of footage of puppies doing cute and rambunctious things (like, oh I don’t know, playing sports), the film is actually kind of reminiscent of an Art House picture. Not really.

The few human actors brought in for the movie are wasted as they are used as pure window dressing for the dogs’ antics (or lack thereof).  George Wendt spends the majority of his time playing Santa Claus staring blankly at a dog while it sits perfectly still and pretends to speak. Christopher Lloyd is a grinchy old dogcatcher who has forgotten the spirit of Christmas.

On a side note — why is the dogcatcher always portrayed as the villain? He’s just doing his job.

Sure his job is to catch puppies, put them into a cage and, if nobody wants them, eventually kill the puppies — but how would you like it if dogs overran your neighborhood?

Santa Buddies is a bad movie — but it is essentially harmless. There is no innuendo or double entendre that might inadvertently warp the minds of young kids and the message it tries to deliver is solid. What kid couldn’t use a crash course in the true meaning of Christmas?

While the film may be boring beyond belief for adults, it’s an acceptable distraction for tiny toddlers who go gaga for talking dogs (regardless of how stupid what they are saying really is).

The movie does look pretty good on Blu-ray. Unfortunately, the only extras are a music video and sing-along karaoke videos that manage to be even more bland and uninviting then the movie itself.

Would I recommend watching the film? Only if you are younger then three or have just received a lobotomy.

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Sly Stallone’s movie needs time to age

The Expendables is four pounds of action stuffed in an ankle-high sock, covered in gasoline and then set on fire. It’s big, it’s loud, it’s painfully stupid and it may become a great movie in ten years time. Sylvester Stallone’s action epic is a fine wine in the making — it just needs a few years to age.

In The Expendables, Stallone plays Barney Ross, the leader of a team of hardened mercenaries that find themselves embroiled in a plot to overthrow a South American government. Ross’ team consists of a handful of heavies — as heavily armed as they are muscled. Culled from the world of professional fighting, athletics and direct-to-DVD action films, the Expendables are a motley crew of recognizable faces — a true collection of bad asses.

There’s Jason Statham, Jet Li, Dolph Lundgren, Terry Crews, Randy Couture and Mickey Rouke. In other words, these actually are your father’s action heroes. Unfortunately, time has not been treated the crew well and it becomes painfully obvious very fast why half the cast has been resigned to straight-to-DVD hell.

As Lee Christmas, the second in command of the team, Jason Statham is the perfect example of the casts’ faults. He’s fast-witted, quick with a knife and pretty much the same character he plays in all of his films. This is true of most of the film’s characters. Stallone and his co-writer Dave Callaham put a lot effort into planning some truly stunning action scenes but building fleshed out characters and developing a believable story were not at the top of their list — an oddity since The Expendables devotes a heck of a lot of time to these failed attempts at non-action scenes.

For a film that pats itself on the back so much for its manliness, there are a heck of a lot of scenes where the cast bemoan their lot in life or wax poetic about their emotions.

The Expendables succeeds when it is a non-stop action explosion — hitting audiences over the head with a two by four of loud, fiery awesomeness. Despite an over-abundance of CGI blood, suspect computer enhanced explosions and hyper-stylistic action scenes that are hidden beneath a scattershot of Bourne-esque editing; The Expendables succeeds as an action film. In all other regards, though, the film falls painfully flat on its veiny, wrinkled face.

The Expendables is the type of movie that will eventually find great success on basic cable afternoon reruns. For those able to catch the film on TNT or SPIKE TV in five years’ time, great enjoyment will be had. Lazy afternoon screenings free from the burden of expectations or the desire to see a good movie will treat the film nice. To those that pay $10 for movie theater tickets, though, there is bound to be disappointment in the film’s painfully bad plot and dialogue.

Some muddled story about a mission to overthrow a South American general is just an excuse to have the film’s heroes cut people in half with a stream of ammo or partake in fist fights while engulfed in flames.

Don’t get me wrong, there are a lot of really great scenes in The Expendables. The all-to-brief moment in the film that finally puts Stallone, Bruce Willis and Arnold Schwarzenegger on the same screen is as fun and exciting as you might imagine. The film’s final act — an increasingly absurd “everything-but-the-kitchen-sink” scene — is a great example of balls-to-the-wall action that manages to overwhelm and stun audiences into a giddy happiness.

There’s a lot to like about The Expendables — it’s just going to take a few years to appreciate it.

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