Movieline Online

As you can tell from the title, there’s nothing subtle about Piranha 3DD . That’s “double-D” like the bra size, in case the humor was too sophisticated for you. A quick cash-in on the relatively successful (and equally offensive) 2010 remake whose most memorable moment was the amputation of Jerry O’Connell’s own member, director John Gulager ( Feast) does his best to mix SyFy Channel corniness with Cinemax-style skin. This time around, it’s an “adults-only” waterpark that is invaded by the prehistoric piranha who, according to guest-star Christopher Lloyd, are evolving quickly to withstand chlorinated water and perhaps even life on land (foreshadowing an obvious sequel). The leaves a smart but sexy marine biologist (Danielle Panabaker) and a nerdy waterpark worker (Matt Bush) the only thing standing between a day of family fun and a skinny-dipping massacre! Piranha 3DD is a joke from start to finish. You can laugh with it or at it…but either way those with a suitably sick sense...

Art is of its time. And even though the best examples of cinema are “timeless,” it’s awful hard to reproduce the magic behind those classics in the first place. Actors, writers and directors reach a creative peak, and then fade into the Smithsonian of pop-culture (if they’re lucky) or unheralded anonymity (if they’re not). French director Jean Rollin only enjoyed appreciation for his work decades after it was released. But that late success provided him the chance to return to his favorite filmic themes with Two Orphan Vampires – a film produced in 1995 but existing somewhere in the director’s mid-70s oeuvre. Critics might contend that Rollin never had all the much skill to begin with. But even so, his ability to pick up exactly where he left off in terms of style, ideas and execution is pretty amazing. The film itself is much like his tone-poem vampire entries Fascination and Lips of Blood but more restrained in terms of violence, sexuality and budget. Henriette and Louise a...

Even The Living Dead Girl (1982), probably the closest the director ever came to making a genre film (along with his zombie tale The Grapes of Death) defies any real categorization. There’s gore, but few scares as our undead heroine, Catherine, is brought back to life by some toxic waste dumping grave robbers. Compelled to kill, she meanders through her after-life with little purpose until her childhood friend pledges assistance – which includes securing some very unwilling victims. The flashes of violence likely put this at the top of the list for certain Rollin fans. But they exist in a separate world from our lead character, who commits most of her horrendous acts with no emotion or scathing self-hatred. Some English language scenes and a larger than usual budget hint that this was Rollin’s one last shot for genre success. But that’s like hiring a plumber to fix your car; they’re both experts, but in two separate professions.

Like that A-Team lunchbox that begins life as a utilitarian novelty but becomes a treasured kitsch collectible, Bye Bye Birdie is much easier to appreciate 50 years after the fact. The clothes, the hair, the songs, the moves, the pop culture popularity all combine for a fabulously entertaining cumulative effect showcasing the talents of one Ann-Margret. There are other names in the cast – big ones like Dick Van Dyke, Janet Leigh and even Hollywood Squares regular Paul Lynde – but they are completely eclipsed by her rising star quality and schoolgirl sexuality. Adapted from the Broadway show,

It takes skill to play a convincing psycho. Anthony Perkins was immortalized for it Anthony Hopkins won an Academy Award for it. Then there’s Joe Dallesandro, aka “Little Joe” from Lou Reed’s Walk on the Wild Side. The ex-Andy Warhol factory superstar and crotch model for the Rolling Stones is essentially a slab of beef with basic vocabulary skills. And Madness (1980), an Italian import directed by crime-genre specialist Fernando Di Leo, matches him in terms of presenting crude, raw, unshaped exploitation material. In fact, Madness is so sparse in terms of dialogue, camera angles and visual flourishes that it could have been produced in the Warhol factory. With a steamrolling late ‘70s rock score (complete with jazz flute solos) laid over top of every scene, there’s certainly an effort to make the film seem exciting. But even by exploitation standards, Madness seems desperate. Escaped thief and murderer Joe Brezy returns to an isolated cabin in the countryside to recover hi...

It seems like we’ve been waiting for the second-coming of Bruce Lee as long as we’ve been waiting for the actual Second Coming. There have been so many promises - from unsuccessful understudy Chuck Norris to legit contender Jackie Chan – that we should probably all come to terms with the fact that no one will ever match Lee’s skill, style and on-screen charisma. Meanwhile, films like Indonesian import The Raid: Redemption go for the team approach, showcasing the impressive abilities of its star, Iko Uwais, but surrounding him with what appears to be every able-bodied kung fu artist in Jakarta. The result is a non-stop beat down set against the pulsing music of Mike Shinoda of Linkin Park (replacing the traditional score that played with the film during its festival run). For all the impactful punching, kicking and knifing going on, it’s actually director Gareth Evans smooth visual style that makes the film memorable. Perhaps taking a cue from John Carpenter’s early indie Assaul...