All posts by Rod Lott

Anatomy 2 (2003)

The 2000 German horror film Anatomy cast Run Lola Run’s Franka Potente as a med student discovering a secret society of surgeons operating on bodies before their time of expiration. To its credit, the sequel is no mere carbon copy, switching gears from the slasher genre to the medical thriller, but still rendered in that twisted manner we’ve come to expect from the Krauts.

In Anatomy 2, an idealistic young intern (Barnaby Metschurat — gesundheit!) joins a Berlin hospital and is soon invited to join a select group of doctors that gathers weekly. As he soon learns, they’re all anti-Hippocratic, but since he’s eager to rub shoulders with the bigwigs, he joins anyway. Perhaps his decision had something to do with the late-night sexperiment he has with the Jeri Ryan lookalike who gives him seven orgasms. The lot is conducting clandestine research of its own involving synthetic muscles operated via remote control that improve one’s muscular strength by as much as 400 percent.

At first, our hero sees potential in curing his crippled brother, but it becomes clear that the organization is only interested in creating supermen at all costs — even if it means become morphine junkies and killing off any member who tries to leave. Potente has a cameo as an investigator who warns the doc of his involvement — perhaps far too late.

Anatomy 2 isn’t better than its predecessor, but at least it is its own being. The filmmakers could have just retread the original, but opted to go a different route while still playing upon our distrust of doctors and fear of bodily harm. In the process, the sequel has become far more glossy and far less gruesome, but I was entertained. —Rod Lott

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Trailer provided by Video Detective

The Punisher (2004)

Of the three films made to date of the Marvel Comics character, 2004’s The Punisher is half the movie as the ones that bookend it. Thomas Jane (Deep Blue Sea) assumes the Punisher role, aka Frank Castle, a FBI agent who calls it quits after too many grueling undercover jobs, the most recent of which resulted in the accidental death of the son of über-rich businessman Howard Saint, played by John Travolta, here fully ensconced in his honey-baked ham mode.

As payback, Saint — oh, the irony! — orders the assassination of Castle and his entire family, conveniently assembled in one place for a family reunion. Only Frank manages to survive. Donning the black, skull-emblazoned T-shirt his son opportunely gifted him before dying, he calls himself The Punisher, outfits his car and apartment with weapons galore and sets out to take down Saint and all his expensive-suited goons.

In his directorial debut, Jonathan Hensleigh gives his revenge tale an ugly grit that’s supposed to remind audiences of the pistol-packin’ ‘70s, but unfortunately, his story and pacing are reminiscent of ‘70s episodic cop shows. The dialogue is melodramatic and goofy; the score is overwrought and inappropriate.

And Jane doesn’t get to do much punishing. Aside from the final office-building siege in which Castle doles out some ass-kicking (and neck-penetrating and chin-stabbing), the action is subdued rather than exciting. The film’s big fight scene is supposed to be a mano y mano match between Castle and a mute walking steroid known as “the Russian,” but it’s hard not to laugh since he’s dressed like Baby Huey.

The Punisher is one of the last movies that needs comic relief, but lo and behold, it throws in not one, but two wacky neighbors! It also doesn’t need romance, but Rebecca Romijn-Stamos is there anyway as a heartbroken, downtrodden waitress who takes a shine to Castle. It’s not that the film needs eye candy with Mulholland Dr. hussy Laura Harring bouncing across the screen, but what was Hensleigh thinking when he cuts away from her undressing to lingerie? Oh, well, at least he lets us see Travolta be dragged by a car and set aflame in full. —Rod Lott

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Dracula II: Ascension (2003)

Not a single cast member from the Wes Craven-presented Dracula 2000 returned for Dracula II: Ascension, the first of two straight-to-video sequels, and who can blame them?

Picking up where D2K ended, with the count burnt to a crisp on a neon crucifix, Ascension wheels the charred corpse of the vampire lord into a morgue, where the enterprising workers steal the body, sensing an opportunity to make some money. They take it to the conveniently vacant and isolated mansion of their professor, played by Craig Sheffer. He’s confined to a wheelchair because of cerebral palsy and has his left hand drawn up and turned in a way that looks like he’s constantly playing charades and no one has yet guessed “hieroglyphics.”

Sheffer — like Stephen Hawking without the RoboVoice and the charisma — believes the key to his cellular regeneration lies within the blood of Dracula, so he has his students revive the body by literally giving him a bloodbath. It works, and the first to die is former Playboy Playmate of the Year Brande Roderick, who briefly comes back as cinema’s only vampire to sport matching red bra and panties from Victoria’s Secret semi-annual lingerie sale. Eventually dying (but not soon enough) is the token black guy who, after sprouting fangs, exclaims with no irony, “I got the hooyah power in me!”

Meanwhile, the increasingly oval-faced Jason Scott Lee tracks them down. He’s a priest-cum-vampire hunter, as quick with the scythe as he is with the scripture, and he is as intent on saving souls as he is severing heads. Oh, and what of Drac? He’s tied up for nearly the entire movie, freed of his chains only at the end to set up Dracula III: Legacy, leaving one to hope it has more bite. —Rod Lott

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Assassin (1986)

Imagine if The Terminator were a made-for-TV movie. And instead of Arnold Schwarzenegger as a killer robot with an authority problem, what if they cast a guy who looks not unlike Gopher from The Love Boat? Voilà! You have Assassin, written and directed by cathode vet Sandor Stern (Pin).

As the telefilm opens, government-created android Robert Golem (get it?) goes nutzoid and kills two fellow agents before going on the run, in search of more government agents to kill. In order to stop him, the team has to recruit two ex-agents now in the public sector. One is star Robert Conrad, bringing to Assassin all the verve and intensity of his Duracell commercials. The other is Karen Austin (Markie Post’s Night Court predecessor), because with Conrad in the lead, they needed someone to balance that out and lend the action film some testosterone.

Austin explains to Conrad that she helped create the cyborg (Robert Young, Friday the 13th: A New Beginning), who has two built-in weaknesses: His brain is in his stomach and he has to recharge his power supply every 72 hours by plugging into an air-conditioning unit for 30 minutes, which he does by removing a cord implanted in his ankle. He also has a detachable tummy for working on his insides and is prone to jumping out of high-rise windows to escape capture.

Assassin has no forward drive, nor anything resembling pure action. It’s mediocre in every way, right down to the costumer’s decision to clothe Conrad in butt-hugging khakis. It’s not intended for laughs, but generated a fair share for me. —Rod Lott

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Trailer provided by Video Detective