Can you guess what movie or TV show we’re watching? We’ve turned on subtitles (when available) not to give you a clue, but to enhance that WTF effect! Leave your best guess in the comments to prove your true Flick Attackosity!
All posts by Rod Lott
Paycheck (2003)
Paycheck most certainly was just that for star Ben Affleck, because he invests very little in the film, other than portraying an unlikable chucklehead, which his protagonist is not supposed to be. Like Minority Report (but with lower star wattage and much less behind-the-camera skill), Paycheck is based on a Philip K. Dick short story. Affleck plays some kind of freelance techno-whiz who consults on jobs so top-secret that after his gig is over, his memory of the experience is erased. As the story begins, he accepts a two-year assignment — one far longer than ever before — that will result in an eight-figure payday, meaning he won’t have to work ever again.
But when he’s done and his brain is wiped clean of the previous 24 months, he is shocked to find that he has forfeited his money in exchange for an envelope full of 20 items worthy of a junk drawer: a paper clip, a pass key, Affleck’s career. He’s also pursued by the police, for a murder he’s not sure he did or didn’t commit, and as he flees, he learns that each item in the envelope helps him evade capture. Perhaps he was working on a machine that could foresee … the future?!?
It’s not a terrible idea for a film, but director John Woo and company have steered it down that road. Woo’s Asian sensibilities simply do not translate well to American film; his direction is needlessly showy, making for choppy editing, awkward pacing and poor performances. Plus, when he manages — even in a sci-fi thriller — to throw a shot of his beloved white doves, I had to groan.
Affleck has shown signs of being able to act before, but here he’s simply coasting; the man can’t even laugh credibly. As a biologist and requisite love interest, Uma Thurman is completely vacant, giggling and trying to act like she’s Kate Hudson or something. She’s not and it doesn’t matter, anyway, because she and Affleck have zero chemistry. Oh, and I’m not certain, but I think Paul Giamatti is supposed to be playing a monkey. —Rod Lott
The New Centurions (1972)
No one writes a cop novel like Joseph Wambaugh, so it’s no wonder Hollywood has adapted so many of them, starting with The New Centurions. It follows rookie cop Roy (Stacy Keach, sans ‘stache, initially) being introduced to the night shift of the scummier areas of Los Angeles by near-retirement Kilvinski (George C. Scott, intense as always). As they make their rounds, the lonely old man imparts wisdom to his family-man protégé: “Look out the window. There’s always another asshole.”
The partners and the other cops of their division — a vanity-free Erik Estrada among them — are shown breaking up domestic disputes, rounding up street whores, working robberies big and small, hunting down a flim-flam man, making routine traffic stops, trolling parks for “fruits,” and chasing various perps.
There’s a reason they call it a beat: because it wears one down. Like Wambaugh’s excellent, reality-based novels, Richard Fleischer’s film pulls back the veil of being an officer, presenting a portrait that’s not at all gussied-up, revealing the repercussions of making an honest but deadly mistake, and the toll the job takes at home. A scene in which the wrong guy is fatally shot is powerful, but most tense is when the police attempt to wrest an abused newborn from its drunk mother.
The New Centurions isn’t your average Hollywood crime drama. When Kilvinski mentions retirement, any other movie would mark him for death before his last day on the job; instead, Stirling Silliphant’s script shows him taking a more realistic route. It’s a solid work, tonally false only with a late-in-the-game subplot of romance for Roy. —Rod Lott
7 Bond Girl Names They’ll Have to Get Around to Using Someday
1. Lucy N. Easy
2. Sharon Spreadleggs
3. Felicia Fuxalot
4. Greta Givesgreatblowjobs
5. Lady Labia
6. Major Slut
7. Moist Vagina —Rod Lott
Confession Stand with Ashley C. Williams
Ashley C. Williams is the middle section of last year’s family feel-good hit, The Human Centipede.
FLICK ATTACK: First, the obvious question: Should I let Centipede writer/director Tom Six babysit my kids?
WILLIAMS: Sure thing! He’s a sweetheart. Most people just think he is sick in the head, which is understandable. But he really is the opposite of what you think!
FLICK ATTACK: When you signed up for The Human Centipede, did you have any idea it would become a pop-culture touchstone before it was even released, or did you think it was destined for oblivion?
WILLIAMS: Honestly, I had no idea it would be this big a hit in the cult horror film world. I just thought, “Hey, this role could either make or break my career,” and hey, it turned out pretty good! We were just happy when it got into some film festivals and it just kept growing from there!
FLICK ATTACK: In The Brady Bunch, Jan Brady always resented being the middle girl. Can you relate? Do you think you had it worse than she did? Please remember before you answer that Marcia was really hot.
WILLIAMS: I can relate! And ironically, I am the “middle child” in my family, too, and it’s not the greatest feeling. But I do think that my character definitely had it the worst.
FLICK ATTACK: Do you now need knee replacements?
WILLIAMS: My knees are fine, thanks. But I suppose my character, Lindsay, might need them, if she survives.
FLICK ATTACK: Since you spent so much time attached to two of your co-stars, did you get to the point where you could finish each other’s thoughts? And, like, if Ashlynn Yennie stubbed her toe right now on the other side of the country, could you feel it?
WILLIAMS: Totally.
FLICK ATTACK: How to put this delicately? Okay, there’s no way to put this delicately: Were you having to smell Akihiro Kitamura’s butt the whole time?
WILLIAMS: Nope, there were several layers of fabric and gauze so that we wern’t ever touching. We were never ever skin to skin. There was a knob attached to the gauze that we bit down on to make it look like we were attached.
FLICK ATTACK: I imagine that since the movie came out, you’ve gotten a lot of attention from the wrong sort of people. What’s the creepiest fan experience you’ve had thus far?
WILLIAMS: Creepiest? Well, I get a lot of Facebook stalkers, especially on my fan page. They say some weird crap that is just … well … weird.
FLICK ATTACK: Speaking of, has appearing in the film affected your dating life?
WILLIAMS: Not at all! my boyfriend was very supportive of me doing this film.
FLICK ATTACK: According to IMDb, you were an uncredited villager in Willow. If that’s true, who’s scarier: an on-camera Dieter Laser or an off-camera Val Kilmer?
WILLIAMS: Well, I was only 5 years old in Willow, so I’m not sure of Val Kilmer’s personality off-camera, so I would have to say definitely Dieter Laser was insanely scary, even while he was off-camera! He stayed in character pretty much the whole time while he was on set.
FLICK ATTACK: You’ve won acting awards, you’re a professional dancer, you’re an accomplished painter. Does it bug you — no pun intended — that your obituary still might lead with The Human Centipede?
WILLIAMS: Well, let me correct some things before I answer. I am actually not a dancer; I am a singer and I paint as a hobby. I’m actually very proud of the work I did in The Human Centipede. Being known as “the middle piece” my whole life is nice, but obviously, I would like to work outside of the horror genre as well and not get “stuck” in it.
FLICK ATTACK: And now for a question not about The Human Centipede: What films are you working on now? And how medically accurate are they?
WILLIAMS: Right now, I will be shooting a a romantic comedy in August here in NYC called A Guy Named Rick, and then going off to England and Germany to shoot a horror comedy, which is “somewhat accurate” in a Shaun of the Dead kind of way, called Stagnant. I have some offers of some great films that I am in negotiations with at the moment, and I continue to do plays here in NYC! —Rod Lott
Additional questions by Allan Mott.