Confession Stand with Adrian Paul

Best known for starring in the Highlander TV series and its last two film sequels, Adrian Paul is the star of Eyeborgs, making its Syfy premiere tonight.

FLICK ATTACK: How many of your interviews start off with the interviewer saying, “Yo, Adrian”?

PAUL: Once or twice, perhaps. It’s standard.

FLICK ATTACK: Eyeborgs has kind of done the impossible for a direct-to-DVD movie these days and broken through, gaining quite a cult. What do you attribute this to?

PAUL: I think it’s the subject matter in a sense. You know, when they first came up with the idea, it was during the elections and the introductions of cameras into cities like New York and Chicago and London. To me, it’s kind of like a political statement slash thriller, with sci-fi. They did a really good job for the time they spent on it. The CGI is incredible. It wasn’t done by eight companies; most of the big work was done by one guy. It’s a slightly different slant on “We are being watched.”

FLICK ATTACK: Is there any talk of a sequel yet?

PAUL: Yeah, if it does well, there’s a possibility of a sequel. They’re talking about “is it possible to make it into a series?” I don’t know what the answer to that is, but there has been some sort of rumor about it.

FLICK ATTACK: And now it’s making its Syfy debut. How’s it gonna play alongside the lofty standards established by Mansquito and Blood Monkey and Mega Python vs. Gatoroid?

PAUL: I don’t know. Syfy comes out with some good product and other product they do for not a lot of money, and it’s pure entertainment, pure fantasy. I think they’re never going to go away. They’re just going to get bigger. They’ll do different types of film, but this one has a sci-fi element and there is an audience for it.

FLICK ATTACK: My 5-year-old wants one of those two-legged Eyeborgs for his birthday. Can you pull some strings for me?

PAUL: Well, if it does well, you can know for certain they’ll do merchandising on it, so I’ll let you know.

FLICK ATTACK: Is it more difficult acting against a spider robot that’s not really there or Christopher Lambert?

PAUL: Ohhh. That’s a harsh comment, actually.

FLICK ATTACK: No, it’s good-natured. All in fun.

PAUL: You have to have a very good imagination. All I was told was that I was given a rundown as to what these things might look like and what their capabilities were, in a sense. I actually choreographed the fight and sat down with the robot designer and the director, and came up with what could be done, how it would move. I was just fighting air, pretending there’s this eight-legged thing kicking my ass.

FLICK ATTACK: Speaking of Highlander, answer honestly: How long would it really take you to cut off someone’s head?

PAUL: How long would it take?

FLICK ATTACK: Yeah.

PAUL: Well, it would take you literally one slice. It depends on what you’re using. —Rod Lott

Additional question by Allan Mott.

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Dead Set (2008)

One of the most satisfying zombie movies I’ve ever seen isn’t a movie at all, but the British TV series Dead Set, a five-episode wonder. You know how everyone talked about how awesome AMC’s The Walking Dead show was upon its debut in Halloween 2010? Well, Dead Set did the undead far better two years earlier, and makes our Yank efforts look like Sesame Street by comparison.

Don’t get me wrong: I liked The Walking Dead. But I didn’t love it, because every episode seemed to stretch half an hour’s worth of story into twice the time. There’s no such problem with Dead Set. With the exception of the extended first ep, each one is just a hair above 20 minutes; all are packed with survivor interaction and zombie action.

What sets it apart immediately is its concept, in that the housemates of UK’s Big Brother reality show are blissfully unaware of the zombie uprising outside their studio, until said uprising extends indoors. Suddenly, that week’s eviction ceremony is the least of the contestants’ worries.

Dead Set gets away with a lot that the U.S. tube wouldn’t allow. Remember Walking Dead‘s buzzed-about scene in which a couple of characters bathed themselves in zombie blood and entrails to go undercover? That’s tame compared to the Big Brother producer (Andy Nyman) personally stripping an expired player of skin and meat, right down to the bone.

Watch all five back-to-back for a bloody good 141-minute feature experience. —Rod Lott

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Fire on the Amazon (1993)

No one makes low-budget genre fare better than producer Roger Corman. Be it sea creatures in rubber suits or slimy alien rapist worms, Corman can (and usually does) deliver the goods. But what happens when he tries to, you know, get serious? What happens when he tries to make an “issue” movie? If Fire on the Amazon is any indication, I’d love to see his version of An Inconvenient Truth.

Yep, Fire on the Amazon is a movie about the devastation of the rainforests and one man’s fight to stop it. Of course, when that man happens to be the ridiculously coiffed Craig Sheffer, looking like he came straight from a grunge-era Playgirl photo shoot, the results will be nothing more than ineffectually comedic. He’s a nosy “photojournalist,” but I’d like to see his press credentials and, no, your blog doesn’t count, Craig.

If following this clown around Bolivia weren’t enough — and believe me, it is — Amazon also happens to be one of the earliest films to star Sandra Bullock, and, true to Corman form, she has a sex scene. While this may be a cream-dream come true for her fans, director Luis Llosa brings the same clinically erotic eye to lovemaking that he did with Sylvester Stallone, Sharon Stone and a bathroom floor in The Specialist. (I’m actually worried that Llosa has never been with a woman. We should all pitch in and get him a hooker!)

Does the rainforest get saved? No, of course not. But Bullock does get many long-winded speeches about displaced native peoples that actually made me almost want to do something. Almost. So I guess it was successful in that respect. —Louis Fowler

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So Fine (1981)

Despite spending much of the ’70s at the top of Hollywood’s A-list, you don’t hear much about Ryan O’Neal these days. His great work in such films as What’s Up, Doc?, Paper Moon and Barry Lyndon seems to have been completely undone by the string of lackluster failures that followed them, as well the fact that all evidence points to his being an utterly worthless human being.

Yet as big of a hitting-on-his-own-daughter-at-his-famous-girlfriend’s-funeral sleazeball he may be, there’s no denying that he once possessed a certain charm that made him a compelling and likeable onscreen presence. Evidence of which can be found in So Fine, one of the early ’80s flops that marked the beginning of his slow decline into tabloid obscurity. The directorial debut of once-promising comedy director/screenwriter Andrew Bergman (whose own career was sidelined by the one-two disasters of Striptease and Isn’t She Great), So Fine is an often funny contemporary evocation of ’40s screwball comedy.

O’Neal plays Bobby Fine, an English professor at a stuffy New England college who is literally kidnapped to work for his father’s (a hilarious Jack Warden) struggling clothing company at the behest of a behemoth loan shark named Big Eddie (Richard Kiel). When Bobby is introduced to Eddie’s hot Italian wife (Lina Wertmüller regular Mariangela Melato), it’s lust at first sight and many amusing complications — including the invention of a revolutionary new fashion style — ensue.

While nowhere up to the level of His Girl Friday or Bringing Up Baby, So Fine is a fun, refreshing return to the screwball formula that promises the sight of Jaws in blackface singing Verdi’s Otello, a brilliantly droll performance by Ed Gwynne as O’Neal’s stuffy academic boss, and lots of pretty girl in assless jeans. What’s not to like? Besides O’Neal being such an epic douchebag offscreen, of course. —Allan Mott

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Sanctum (2011)

When a thriller set beneath Papua New Guinea name-checks National Geographic magazine not once, but twice, it’s safe to say the focus might be on pretty pictures than pulse-quickening. Such it is with Sanctum, an Australian film to which James Cameron has attached his name as executive producer, because the guy gets erect for projects dealing with underwater exploration.

But don’t expect The Abyss. Fantastic Four‘s Ioan Gruffudd plays a billionaire financing a cave-diving scubafest that takes expert Frank (Richard Roxburgh) and his crew through tight squeezes as they venture through heretofore unexplored territory. Disaster strikes when a cyclone up top floods the caverns.

From there, it’s a swim for survival, with nature providing just as much conflict as Frank’s whiny, put-upon son (Rhys Wakefield). Any guess as to whether he and Pop will work things out by the end? Originality is not Sanctum‘s strong suit. I’m not sure it has one, but if it does, it’s in making viewers queasy with claustrophobia. (That could be because I was weak from hunger.)

Bad dialogue clashes with bad acting from all involved except Roxburgh. Gruffudd overacts to the point of being a cartoon (can we call a ban on all Apocalypse Now references in helicopter scenes from here on out?) and Alice Parkinson, as his girlfriend, reads her lines as if she’s expecting to be dubbed. And sorry, Jim, but the 3-D isn’t All That. Sanctum may not stink, but it sinks. —Rod Lott

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