The less you know about Timecrimes, the better, because spoiling the film would … well, spoil it. I can tell you that it’s Spanish, but don’t let the fact you have to read subtitles keep you away. If you’re the type who digs mind-bending thrillers, prepare to have your medulla oblongata raped.
So this middle-aged guy named Hector (Karra Elejalde) sees something through his binoculars from his middle-of-nowhere home: a naked lady and a guy with a creepily bandaged face. Going to investigate, he finds the girl dead and chased by the guy. He runs to a nearby house for safety, is instructed to enter a silo and then …
I ain’t telling. But part of the title spills the beans. And writer/director Nacho Vigalondo does a masterful job in making the story click as it goes through its many precise machinations. Just thinking how he got the idea and actually made it work makes my head hurt, but in a good way.
Pop some Advil and pop this one in the player. Tick-tock, you don’t stop. —Rod Lott
Being American, you may ask, “WTF is a Lordi?” Apparently, it’s a heavy metal band in which its members dress in demonic costumes. (Think GWAR, minus the name recognition.) They’re hiding out in the hospital to kill off the humans, one by one, growling all the way.
Like Nancy Drew with a multicultural cast, the bright, boisterous Girls pits Candy mostly against the ne’er-do-wells of “Red China.” The film has her scurrying up and down a dumbwaiter, tossing a guy off a balcony to his death, and saved from a booby-trapped car from that hunk known as Murray Hamilton. But nothing is as awesome as the prologue, which finds her driving her fellow students in a bus, and practically killing them all because of a spider dangling in front of her. She swerves all over the damn road; has she ever heard of brakes?
As expected, the script is stupid, the acting is atrocious, but the action scenes are kick-ass — gratuitous, over-the-top violence where bad guys can get sliced in two with the flick of a knife. In other words, when’s the freakin’ sequel? Next time, Sly, you need to throw in Blade, The Glimmer Man, Snake Plissken, The Marine, Bloodfist, American Ninja, The Perfect Weapon and — oh, what the hell — Lionheart. Certainly they can’t be all that busy. —Rod Lott
The French film is spooky, thanks mostly to Christiane’s mask, a blank stare that no doubt influenced Michael Myers’ emotionless cover. Franju aims for a marathon, not a sprint, with deliberate pacing that gets you involved with the characters. In other words, this is an intelligent film that just happens to appeal to base senses, with evocative photography and a memorable score, which sounds like the theme from