Title: Battlespace
Rating: 0.5/5
Genre: Action, Sci-Fi
Starring: Eve Connelly, Blake Edgerton
Director: Neil Johnson
Let me waste as little time as possible explaining why nobody should bother watching this film. Yes, I knew it was a budget flick going in and so my expectations weren't exactly high, but this goes beyond simply being 'bad,' into that rarely seen sleeping pill level of atrocity. We spend most of our time learning about the narrators 'heroic' mother who flees in the middle of battle with a technician, lands on a desert planet (mostly desert, there's some rock and ice topped mountains nearby) brought about by the fact it has a ridiculous number of suns and moons. It's also smaller than earth but has perfect gravity – perhaps as a result of the “terraforming” that's mentioned a few times but never elaborated on – and given the mission of blowing something up with a space age super gun that needs new batteries.Nothing is ever explained properly; the plot which seems inherently simplistic but lacking the most basic of narration (even though there is a narrator throughout). Never are we told why we our protagonist is on a backwater planet populated by robot like beings that I get the impression were once humans 'gone a bit wrong' other than to blow something up, which is apparently some sort of “anti-matter” weapon, which again is left horrifically vague. The point where her only friend suddenly becomes her enemy is another baffling moment which starts with her clubbing him over the head without provocation. This, however, is nothing compared to the sudden transition; the mothers death in space causing a transition to the daughter's stranded ship, her stasis sleep ended by a nearby vessel and a conversation of “where are we” “the end of TIME” before time too collapses and everybody dies. Apparently we only have about 1000 years before time will kill us all, never mind the millions of years preceding us.
Why she carries a gun that rarely works or the many little bits of technology we see; her bracelet that she needs to switch modes from 'run' to 'fight' making up for her apparent lack of basic human functions never get any mention. But then her status as being truly human is a little dubious as well, the fact she doesn't drink anything despite the never ending heat 'scorching off the top layers of skin' as they describe it, eat more than two aubergines in two days yet still runs around and fights, recharging by plugging into telephone towers and with references to 'prophets' and 'combat soldiers' and the like, with a level thrown in as if that might give it all some sort of meaning. Nobody speaks – except for the narrator – until this final conclusion, which doesn't really explain anything anyway. A good half an hour is spent watching a woman walk through sand. I'm struggling to think of a single positive about this film.[1] Unless you're an insomniac in need of a good nights sleep or a masochist willing to test your endurance, beware.
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I'd been meaning to explore more of this director since he came out with the best monster flick in years with “The Host,” and this film clinches it; South Korea now has two directors that everyone should start keeping a close eye on. Using a play on words (both “Mother” and “Murder” translate to the same 'letter' in Korean), this tale of tragedy is simple in its design, right from the actual plot itself right down the use of language, cinematography and musical score. Yet, it never feels raw as much as it does simply unapologetic in its treatment of the subject material; the characters are on display as ultimately human with both the good and the bad left for all to see, yielding a certain sense of natural complexity that makes judging their actions all the more difficult.
persona's, leaving the task of developing the narrative to Hye-ja Kim, and it's here that he really seems to have struck gold. So little is in what is actually being said, and so much more is in the actions she carries out in order to save her son, and there's more to it than simply what those actions are but in her reactions to them; the expressions in her face and eyes; the tired or depressed look of a woman despairing over her plight, exploding in a flood of tears or screaming in anger. There is emotion in her performance at even the most subtle of times and it's evident from the very opening scene of her carelessly dancing in the field that's she's desperate to forget the weight of the world upon her, if even for only a moment.
I must confess that of all my interests in Japan and it's culture, I always felt I was neglecting their history, but it never seemed like a widely discussed topic and with the wealth of information available it always seemed like something of an insurmountable task, deciding upon where to begin. Upon hearing about this adaptation of the manga of the same name – in turn based upon the novel Suruga-jō Gozen Jiai penned by Norio Nanjo in the 50's – my interest in a series that takes serious consideration for the intricacies of the Edo period (late 17th to mid 19th Century) had been peaked. There is no attempt to take the subject matter lightly either; Japan may have been in a state of peace but the path of the samurai were none the less bloody for it, the problems with their strict code of conduct made more than apparent within this tale of intertwined fates.
him to betray his master he is punished with his sight and banished from the clan, but even the loss of his sight cannot curb Irako's ambition for power.
commonly employed takes on its own distinct characteristics with both strengths and weaknesses on display, and even those that employ it utilise it in slightly different ways; from the cold precision of Gennosuke to the more agile and up close and personal approach of his rival Seigan; their tutor's more defensive performances, more dependant on raw strength and their master making use of fear and counter-strikes to make his presence known. And yet when shown side by side by those proficient at other styles, the differences make themselves all the more abundantly clear.
characters introduced from the very beginning as well as coming to terms with the dark tone of the piece, needing to time to subtly weave its magic. Other issues never truly become resolved; the problem with the names which sadly as a result of my inability to speak Japanese often end up sounding similar and inevitably foreign, and with the narration often simply mentioning names or years to make leaps in the story I often found myself initially confusing many of the minor characters for another (or indeed, simply not having a clue who was being referred to). The ending, too, feels abrupt and as though missing a final chapter – or indeed several – and yet, despite these issues I can't think of anything else I've seen that comes close to offering such an insight into this dark period in Japan's history. Kill Bill this ain't.
Its always seemed that the Japanese have taken the art of cheap low budget schlock gore porn and made it their own, taking over from the rapidly diminishing quality and number of American offerings. Its little wonder they're finding their target audience either, for whilst the name is something of a mouthful, its the combination of new ideas and the knowledge of what's wanted from such a film that quickly elevates them to that must-see status, and here is no different; Japanese high school chicks – dressed in skin-tight swimsuits no less – getting it on with one another whilst being hunted by sadistic zombies and a “final boss” to make that big dude from Resident Evil seem plausible. 
the occasional point that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever; the horrendous CGI on a mobile phone bomb – which as far as I can tell, had no purpose in the story, – self playing flutes that charm women like snakes or an exploding laser cannon tampon. Whilst these occasionally allow for a chuckle, more often than not it simply seems too pointless and ridiculous to even be taken seriously as a B-Movie. Despite an awesome premise, you'd have thought the film would have written itself but they haven't got the basics right. For a “team” only two members actually have anything to do apart from sit around looking cute,*and whilst there's a plethora of fake blood, there's nothing new to be seen here.
For all my slandering of obvious American comedians, Maher stands out as one of the fewer that has the intelligence to speak out not through arrogance or defiance – though his atheist views have certainly earned him something of this reputation, a fact he doesn't really seem to argue against here – but for doing his research and genuinely trying to understand this gap in his understanding. As he puts it himself, “People who are otherwise so rational about everything else, and then they believe on Sunday they're drinking the blood of a two thousand year old god,” and it's an issue I've considered myself. More than anything else it's a lack of fundamental understanding of how they can believe in something so absolutely that they're blinded to the fact that they might not have everything right, and as he points out himself, believing you know everything can be used to justify even the most despicable of acts.
effect which whilst successful, would come across of derogatory towards those of faith. There are often two interviews cut together to show in black and white the difference in opinions held by members of the same faith, and it's not hard to see how his bias would seep through in the editing stages. Perhaps he knew no religious person would actually watch it with an open mind, so the usual pretext of trying to portray a rational argument for all as opposed to simply preaching to the choir he didn't feel applicable. But perhaps the most disappointing part of all of this is that he is intelligent and he does have a point; religion is ultimately destructive and has done far more bad than good. It's just a shame nobody of faith will endure his mocking long enough to receive that message.
Amidst a sea of gore emerging from their not-so-distant cousins, the Japanese, you could easily overlook this low budget title they can call their own, but doing so would be a grave mistake. This is a tale that plays out like a sick joke; a situational comedy involving rape, torture, mischief and mayhem; a story that by virtues of its plot description alone demands attention to itself. And of those that have seen it it'd appear that half didn't know what to expect, but for the rest it must surely rank amongst those precious few exploitation flicks capable of delivering on a plot that can captivate far more effectively than the most convincing scenes of horror could alone.
fairly amusing notion. It never feels repetitive either, as despite the synopsis the focus shifts between the two halves from a gore-filled romp into more of a standard thriller hunt for this dangerous man, made all the more interesting by his affliction, adding additional gravity to a tired situation. The gore is ever present and looks realistic but is not always excessive, particularly in the second half where it instead lets the story itself do most of the work. However, make no mistake that this is a flick made purely for the twisted. Filled with sex and violence but not at the expense of plot; it may be sadistic, and whilst no “Battle Royale,” shows that the Japanese aren't the only ones who like a bit of chaos in their cinematic diet.
yet, its simply because he hasn't the time in the set – and even then it's hard to really be offended given that he's clearly just speaking his mind.
Pre-Scream yet post-Star Wars comes a film that by all reasonable sense should be something of an atrocity. Clearly taking a lot of influence from Star Wars in particular, bordering plagiarism in fact, which I largely let slide as for all the laser guns, deflecting blasts with swords and running around trying to hunt a guy who looks like a Skeleton (the aptly named Skeletor), all of this featured prominently in the early 80s cartoon and book series on which the film is based. If anything would be guilty here the original series should burden the blame, and despite the obvious appearance of a late 80s budget pile of crap; nothing more than a cash-in on a popular series, the simple fact is that against all odds, this is a classic in the same way that Star Wars is remembered.
Now I'll readily admit there may be bias in my opinion; I still harbour fond memories of being read the children's books from back before I was allowed to stay up with milk bottle in hand, gurgling to Terminator flicks. After all you're probably reading this and thinking, Lundgren? Really? The poor man's Schwarzenegger? But this Swedish pile of muscles with a face attached has a distinct advantage: he can act. I mean not well, that would be asking a little too much of him but well enough that he can carry the story. You aren't distracted by the accent, it isn't filled with cheesy over the top expressions and he does the job better than the other well known muscular heroes would. As does the young Cox in fact, but if you thought the original Star Wars was good for the acting, well I got news for you.
I do love films that are precisely what they say it is; this is a British film about evil aliens. Now, I know most probably aren't familiar with British horror beyond maybe 28 days later, so instead I want you to think of this as more akin to Peter Jackson's early splatsick work; low budget but with buckets of blood and no shortage of witty remarks mocking standard horror conventions. In fact, drop in “2001 Maniacs” and their film crew and pit them all against Predator, blend it all together with Braindead's lawnmower and and you probably aren't all that far off. 
Before you cry “oh no, another documentary on Afghanistan” in that do-we-really-need-another sense, it should be pointed out this isn't some broad elaboration on how it started or anything of the sort. Instead it focusses very specifically on the cases of torture by the American army towards the Afghan detainees in both Guantanamo Bay as well as in Badrul, Abu Ghraid, and other detainment camps in Afghanistan. Perhaps most importantly though, is it doesn't seem concerned with taking sides; there is no vilification of the US soldiers, no mention of the requited treatment of American POWs, and it remains remarkably unbiased in its views, which is no small feat when given how high up the governmental ladder many of the orders came from.
pressure to get results and to receive no correction during the multiple observations of the facility by higher powers, the documentary takes a subtle twist. It's no longer just about inhuman practices during times of war or how deplorable conditions were allowed to get too far, it shows how fear is able to break down democracy. There was no democratic process to the orders given to the soldiers, no authorization given – except at best by the Secretary of Defence at the time – and no questions asked when the events came out in clear opposition to the Geneva convention. If it could all be swept under the carpet it would be, and this more than anything is what I find worrying. If the US wants to continue to hold their head up high, more so now than ever, they need to prove that they are on the right side of the war.
Whilst I'm sure it would surprise a few here, I enjoyed the first film and this is one I've been intending to get around to since its release. The debut was silly, sure, but it was one of those simple but profound ideas that made you stop and wonder why nobody had done this before. No more half-assing trying to squirm the characters into car chases or dangerous situations, but make him need the adrenaline in order to survive. Picking up where we left him – immediately after falling out of a plane, killing a man mid-air and doing a full body slam onto a car, he is whisked away, revived and then has his heart replaced by a mechanical heart, and not a particularly good one. It has a battery that dies in five minutes and an appalling ability to regulate the flow of current, meaning most of the time it'll either be racing or barely pumping. Pissed at his current situation, he tracks down the man who stole his heart. How's that for a homoerotic line? 
convoluted with all the characters; old ones returning requiring flashbacks and a plethora of new ones that feel faceless and pointless targets to shoot at. Nothing really gets resolved at the end, Chelios finds himself once again in a borderline impossible-to-survive situation; they've tried to do that most foolhardy of things here and attempted to top the original. More tits, more guns and more bloodshed, but it plays off like a big budget film trying to pretend to be a B-Movie, spoofing itself like those tiresome turds still shat out by the 'Scary Movie' writers. Which in turn is like a born millionaire trying to talk about how he can empathise with the working class through mouthfuls of caviar and puffs on his pipe. Points to Bai Ling whose done enough genuine B-Movie work to know how to add a bit of sleaze 'n' cheese to the proceedings, but otherwise it's just plain awful. 
forgetting his train of thought. Well, actually he still forgets his train of thought relatively often, but that's no surprise given how often he gets side tracked by something else that annoys him and feels like venting.
