Post by dex on Sept 1, 2009 10:09:47 GMT -5
'Twas my own darn fault. Buffy and Heroes had taught me how awesome cheerleaders are. And ninjas just make everything better! Like Dinosaurs. And chocolate sauce! My simple male mind went right into this trap. I got what I deserve. My one regret is I cannot kiss your righteous feet while you're stepping on my neck, o you superior sex!
One angry Hulk, twelve angry men, three angry girls – the concept seems a winner. April, Monica and Courtney attend the strangely named Las Lomas Malas (“Bad Ridges”*) Junior College. (Native American mysticism that got cut? Or Klingon fan fiction?) What makes our heroines interesting is good characterization. And “good” means getting it out of the way quickly. Ta-daa: The MySpace Montage. A hasty collection of pictures showing each girl doing Cool Stuff, overlayed with captions – name, age, sign, hobbies, favorite book, etc., etc. We understand these are Perfect Superwomen. Ninjutsu, cheerleading, arts, science, philosophy... you name it.
*Rhymes with “Nash Bridges”. Hmm.
But what the movie is about is Attitude, with a capital ‘A’, as in “Ass-kicking”. On the surface, the three are tough girls with brains. Below that, smolders hate: these ladies are angry with the oppressors. Hoo boy, are they angry.
Courtney: “What's up with all the [privates] crushing*?”
April: “I don't know. It just seems right.”
C.: “Cool.”
A.: “Yeah, men think they're superior, so I'm just crushing that theory.”**
*Btw, the accompanying sound effect is also used for their Vulcan Neck Pinch. Huh, never thought of Spock as a ninja, but... that pinching is pretty sneaky. And magic.
**Why, yes, April is the brunette. How ever did you guess? “Good” characterization also means making it easy for the audience.
Yeah, that'll learn 'em. As long as men acknowledge the girls' intellectual dominance but not their skimpy outfits, the three keep their disdain in check. Otherwise, they get very abusive very quickly. Their sensei is an exception, but not even All-Bouncers-Are-Cuddly Manni is.
Wait a minute... bouncer? Ah yes, there's one more extracurricular activity: The girls perform in their wise, and enterprising, sensei's (Why, George Takei, why?!) nightclub. Much like a lactose intolerant working as an ice cream taster, our Angry Ninja Cheerleaders are also strippers– “We are not strippers!! Yuck!” – Sorry! Sorry! That was the old Me speaking. Exotic dancers? Performance artists? Exalted Amazon Overlor– ladies? I give up. How do you call a job where you strip out of a schoolgirl uniform down to your underwear for a bunch of leering strangers – in the “Strip Palace”?
“We're Go-Go dancers!”
Ah! Yes, of course.
Go-Go-Gadget dancing pole!
Anyway, they've made 200 grand(!) in one semester, so if they win tomorrow's strip contest*, they can afford to go to Brown University. But suddenly the mob (Michael Paré) kidnaps their sensei and a detective (the role is shared by a porn mustache and Larry Poindexter) starts wondering who's been beating up half the city. Aaaand action! In spite of some details, the plot is acceptable standard fare (because you can get one of those without a budget, in contrast to, say, a good soundtrack or a script with non-excruciating dialog).
*Don't hit me! Don't hit me! It's actually, officially, called a “strip-off”. No katana is sharper than those semantics.
Cut. Let me walk you through this cut in bullet time. One minute I see the three proud ladies, then, up close, a pair of bare breasts. I'm confused, and a little afraid. Did the movie just shift gears like a hurried Ninja Cheerleader not used to stick shift who thinks ‘R’ is for “Rally Racing”? The picture recedes; the movie resumes with the next scene. Surely this dirty mind of mine is hallucinating? Purge me, Ninja Cheerleaders!
Then it happens again. And again.
And again.
In Battlefield Earth, among the things lamented are the constant screen wipes à la Star Wars. Dear film students, I present to you an even viler cousin of dissolves and match cuts: the Booby Transition. Designed to momentarily confound the male audience, it gives the director a split second to kick them where her mother has taught her to kick.
This non sequitur is just one more symptom of the director's incoherence. Sometimes you wonder if she looked at Genres For Dummies and asked herself, “Will it blend?” One scene looks like it was ripped from a 50s comedy, the next like a video game; another one is a Western parody. Then maybe a neo-noir bit? What's more, every scene is over the top or anvilicious. Every male they meet lusts after them in a way that would make a sleazeball blush. Jimmy the Snitch (Max Perlich) goes to bed with his toothpick and hat. We understand that the girls tease those who deserve it*, then suddenly the teasing breaks the fourth wall. Whaddaya want from me?
*As spelled out ever so elaborately in the theme song, “I know what boys like” – btw. also the theme song and working title of The House Bunny.
Cut. (Guess which kind. Haha.)
Okay, I was kidding: the debuting director (and writer) is in fact a guy: David Presley, an experienced video assist operator. I guess some male minds really are one lap dance short of resigning after all. I wonder what kind of movie he was going for? I cannot believe he was serious (although his condition may be).
Confusion – it's such a terrible shame.
Confusion – you don't know what you're sayin'.
Bad movies have accustomed us to lapses in taste and coherence, but even so Ninja Cheerleaders' style and content seem awfully disjointed. My best guess is that the goal was pure hilarity and they got the details terribly wrong most of the time – comedy is hard. Snobby Amazon girlies sure could be funny, if they clashed with, say, misunderstood benign guys. Instead, all men indeed are slimeballs, and the girls hate them for it. Duh. That's not how jokes work.
What if comedy was not paramount? Dance for men, hate them, tease them – a fascinating vicious circle. Indeed each girl has one serious and sincere moment. Once e. g. April is so disgusted with dancing that she is moved to tears, and Courtney deals with her abusive stepfather (or not, for her mom's sake.) Unfortunately, this is never developed, let alone resolved. Toning down the humor and enhancing the drama might have born an interesting result – just not with Presley and these actresses at this point in their careers.
The movie just doesn't work at all. But it has ninjas. That's something.
One angry Hulk, twelve angry men, three angry girls – the concept seems a winner. April, Monica and Courtney attend the strangely named Las Lomas Malas (“Bad Ridges”*) Junior College. (Native American mysticism that got cut? Or Klingon fan fiction?) What makes our heroines interesting is good characterization. And “good” means getting it out of the way quickly. Ta-daa: The MySpace Montage. A hasty collection of pictures showing each girl doing Cool Stuff, overlayed with captions – name, age, sign, hobbies, favorite book, etc., etc. We understand these are Perfect Superwomen. Ninjutsu, cheerleading, arts, science, philosophy... you name it.
*Rhymes with “Nash Bridges”. Hmm.
But what the movie is about is Attitude, with a capital ‘A’, as in “Ass-kicking”. On the surface, the three are tough girls with brains. Below that, smolders hate: these ladies are angry with the oppressors. Hoo boy, are they angry.
Courtney: “What's up with all the [privates] crushing*?”
April: “I don't know. It just seems right.”
C.: “Cool.”
A.: “Yeah, men think they're superior, so I'm just crushing that theory.”**
*Btw, the accompanying sound effect is also used for their Vulcan Neck Pinch. Huh, never thought of Spock as a ninja, but... that pinching is pretty sneaky. And magic.
**Why, yes, April is the brunette. How ever did you guess? “Good” characterization also means making it easy for the audience.
Yeah, that'll learn 'em. As long as men acknowledge the girls' intellectual dominance but not their skimpy outfits, the three keep their disdain in check. Otherwise, they get very abusive very quickly. Their sensei is an exception, but not even All-Bouncers-Are-Cuddly Manni is.
Wait a minute... bouncer? Ah yes, there's one more extracurricular activity: The girls perform in their wise, and enterprising, sensei's (Why, George Takei, why?!) nightclub. Much like a lactose intolerant working as an ice cream taster, our Angry Ninja Cheerleaders are also strippers– “We are not strippers!! Yuck!” – Sorry! Sorry! That was the old Me speaking. Exotic dancers? Performance artists? Exalted Amazon Overlor– ladies? I give up. How do you call a job where you strip out of a schoolgirl uniform down to your underwear for a bunch of leering strangers – in the “Strip Palace”?
“We're Go-Go dancers!”
Ah! Yes, of course.
Go-Go-Gadget dancing pole!
Anyway, they've made 200 grand(!) in one semester, so if they win tomorrow's strip contest*, they can afford to go to Brown University. But suddenly the mob (Michael Paré) kidnaps their sensei and a detective (the role is shared by a porn mustache and Larry Poindexter) starts wondering who's been beating up half the city. Aaaand action! In spite of some details, the plot is acceptable standard fare (because you can get one of those without a budget, in contrast to, say, a good soundtrack or a script with non-excruciating dialog).
*Don't hit me! Don't hit me! It's actually, officially, called a “strip-off”. No katana is sharper than those semantics.
Cut. Let me walk you through this cut in bullet time. One minute I see the three proud ladies, then, up close, a pair of bare breasts. I'm confused, and a little afraid. Did the movie just shift gears like a hurried Ninja Cheerleader not used to stick shift who thinks ‘R’ is for “Rally Racing”? The picture recedes; the movie resumes with the next scene. Surely this dirty mind of mine is hallucinating? Purge me, Ninja Cheerleaders!
Then it happens again. And again.
And again.
In Battlefield Earth, among the things lamented are the constant screen wipes à la Star Wars. Dear film students, I present to you an even viler cousin of dissolves and match cuts: the Booby Transition. Designed to momentarily confound the male audience, it gives the director a split second to kick them where her mother has taught her to kick.
This non sequitur is just one more symptom of the director's incoherence. Sometimes you wonder if she looked at Genres For Dummies and asked herself, “Will it blend?” One scene looks like it was ripped from a 50s comedy, the next like a video game; another one is a Western parody. Then maybe a neo-noir bit? What's more, every scene is over the top or anvilicious. Every male they meet lusts after them in a way that would make a sleazeball blush. Jimmy the Snitch (Max Perlich) goes to bed with his toothpick and hat. We understand that the girls tease those who deserve it*, then suddenly the teasing breaks the fourth wall. Whaddaya want from me?
*As spelled out ever so elaborately in the theme song, “I know what boys like” – btw. also the theme song and working title of The House Bunny.
Cut. (Guess which kind. Haha.)
Okay, I was kidding: the debuting director (and writer) is in fact a guy: David Presley, an experienced video assist operator. I guess some male minds really are one lap dance short of resigning after all. I wonder what kind of movie he was going for? I cannot believe he was serious (although his condition may be).
Confusion – it's such a terrible shame.
Confusion – you don't know what you're sayin'.
Bad movies have accustomed us to lapses in taste and coherence, but even so Ninja Cheerleaders' style and content seem awfully disjointed. My best guess is that the goal was pure hilarity and they got the details terribly wrong most of the time – comedy is hard. Snobby Amazon girlies sure could be funny, if they clashed with, say, misunderstood benign guys. Instead, all men indeed are slimeballs, and the girls hate them for it. Duh. That's not how jokes work.
What if comedy was not paramount? Dance for men, hate them, tease them – a fascinating vicious circle. Indeed each girl has one serious and sincere moment. Once e. g. April is so disgusted with dancing that she is moved to tears, and Courtney deals with her abusive stepfather (or not, for her mom's sake.) Unfortunately, this is never developed, let alone resolved. Toning down the humor and enhancing the drama might have born an interesting result – just not with Presley and these actresses at this point in their careers.
pro | con |
| Hot cheerleaders. | It's a trap. |
| Ninjas. | Only 1x shuriken, 1x nunchucks. |
| Swordfighting George Takei. | Ham. |
| Magic swords. | magic (adj): lamely sparkling. |
| Band covering theme song named after Nash Bridges' car. | Nobodies, dead before release. |
| Writer/director elite Army vet. | Doesn't know what he's doing, except making fun of sailors. |
| Some fights at night look alright. | The sun is often shining. |
| “Dark Ninja” girl. | Single notable opponent, silly. |
| Jokes non-stop. | “Jokes” non-stop. |
| Boobies. | IT'S A TRAP! |
The movie just doesn't work at all. But it has ninjas. That's something.
