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!
Murder at 1600 (1997)
The White House whodunit Murder at 1600 came out about the same time as the similarly themed Clint Eastwood film Absolute Power, which was also about a philandering president and his dead mistress. Eastwood may have the critical heat, but I prefer this pulpier, more action-oriented version.
Wesley Snipes — then the king of other enjoyable-yet-middling vehicles like The Art of War, Passenger 57 and U.S. Marshals — is a D.C. detective, named Regis of all things! He’s called to the White House when a pretty young employee is found dead in the bathroom following a round of hot, late-night sex. His investigation is compromised by the White House’s unwillingness to participate, despite him being assigned a Secret Service liaison (Diane Lane).
What exactly is the president’s administration covering up? And for whom? You’ll find out toward the end of a slightly bloated running time. Dennis Miller co-stars as Snipes’ co-worker, and while he may have been a great comedian once upon a time, he’s grating as a dramatic actor, so it’s hard not to applaud when he takes a bullet. —Rod Lott
So Close (2002)
So Close is the movie that McG’s Charlie’s Angels should have been. It’s slick, it’s cool, it’s three girls kicking ass who — and this is the big difference — are not braying-donkey annoying. Shu Qi (The Transporter) and Zhao Wei (Shaolin Soccer) are two siblings who have been working as an assassin-for-hire team ever since their parents were brutally murdered. Wei sits at home with a super-decked-out, eye-in-the-sky, satellite-linked computer spy system, feeding Qi info as she carries out the actual hits.
The opening sequence is a stunner, with Qi carrying out a hit on a wealthy computer CEO and shooting her way through the enormous office building as a Carpenters-soundalike version of Burt Bacharach’s “Close to You” plays over the structure’s PA system. If this doesn’t suck you in to the film’s offbeat charms, nothing will.
Hot on their trail is cop Karen Mok (Black Mask), which results in a couple of great chase scenes. But to further complicate matters, Qi’s falling in love and Wei’s taking a liking to pulling triggers, something her big sis does not want her to do.
Directed by Hong Kong choreographer Cory Yuen (The Transporter), the high-tech flick takes some surprising turns and doesn’t follow the usual formula that your standard Hollywood action movie would, especially one with a female-led cast. The three leads are all engaging — particularly the sister act of Qi and Wei — proving that sometimes, women can do these things better than the men. So Close, so good! —Rod Lott
Land of the Minotaur (1976)
Hi, folks, and allow me to personally welcome you to Greece, the Land of the Minotaur! I’ll be your tour guide, pointing out some interesting sights along our route, and I’m happy to answer any questions that may arise! Don’t be shy! That’s what they pay me for!
If you look to your left, you’ll see two guys and one lovely young woman. For the life of me, I can’t tell the men apart because their hair is so long. Damn hippies! Ha-ha! But I kid. Look to your right, and you’ll see some local youths playing soccer, as they are wont to do. Watch it, you scamps!
Look! Over there, emerging from the car, it’s Mr. Peter Cushing, ladies and gentlemen! He’s Baron Corofax and he owns the castle o’er yonder, which is one of the oldest pagan sites in the country! And hey, let’s all give a hearty wave to Donald Pleasence as Father Roche! Hi, Father! Looks like he’s got a lot on his mind. This whole village is possessed by the devil, you see!
Just between you and me, folks, it’s easy to tell who’s in the satanic cult ’round here: It’s the people in the blue, silky KKK outfits! Hi-oooh! Amiright? We’re coming up to our final stop, the fabled giant minotaur. That’s half-man, half-bull, if you were paying attention in school! Now, you’ll notice he shoots fire out of his nostrils, but if you local reaaaal close, you’ll see his weenus! Go on, he’s not shy!
Did you hear Father Roche just now? He said, “We are up against a force that no traditional weapon has the power to destroy!” He’s weird that way. I just don’t trust the balds, but that’s neither here nor there. Anyway, on to the gift shop, ladies and gentleman! —Rod Lott
Growin’ a Beard (2003)
Just like it sounds, Growin’ a Beard is a documentary about a beard-growing contest. In particular, the annual St. Patrick’s Day Donegal beard-growing contest in dinky Shamrock, Texas. The Donegal beard is a mustache-less style — think leprechauns and the Amish. Starting just before New Year’s Day in 1997, director Mike Woolf focuses his camera on four longtime residents (and oft-winners), asking their strategies and secrets. A monkey wrench is thrown into the tradition when a young art director from Austin enters on a lark and threatens to usurp the regulars, even though an outsider has never won.
That man, Scotty McAfee, is the subject of the film’s funniest moment, when people who know him compare the ad man to a series of hirsute pop icons, including Grizzly Adams, the original G.I. Joe doll and Jonny Quest guardian Race Bannon.
Thirty minutes is plenty long for this doc. Although pleasant and unthreatening, its numerous shaving scenes grow tiresome and could have been, um, trimmed. The video is jerky at times, but such is to be expected for a no-budget, handheld effort — and Woolf deserves props for not making fun of his subjects. He shows them as they are, which unintentionally depressed me, because I get easily bummed out thinking about small-town life.
The real reason to check out this DVD is for a bonus short titled The 72 Oz. Steak, which packs three times the laughs and suspense in a third of the time. At the famed Big Texan in Amarillo, a friend of Woolf’s attempts to eat the titular object — plus potato, salad, shrimp cocktail and dinner roll — in an hour in order to avoid paying $50 for it. Who knew four pounds of meat could be so enthralling? —Rod Lott