The zombie movie makes its splashy, crashy reappearance following a brief hiatus, now measurable in picoseconds (and for those of you who don’t habla, picoseconds are 1 / 1 billionths of a second, or how long Britney Spears’ first marriage lasted. Specifically, EIGHT picoseconds.).

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The Bloodsuckers Binge: a series of reviews on vampire movies in all incarnations as I look for, and find, any vampire movie I can get my grubby little hands on. The classics, the culty, the really good, the really old and inevitably: movies that suck!

This movie is called Dracula 2000, 2001 or 2002, depending on when it was released in your country. It was probably supposed to be “The next chapter”, the definitive new version of the Dracula story, a fast, wild and modern addition to the Bram Stoker book. What it is however, is a missed opportunity.
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When I went to see this movie, I fully expected to love it. A tale about a dwarf trying to escape judging eyes by moving to a small town where he involuntarily becomes part of a friendship-triangle; it sounded like just my cup of tea. And I am glad to report: not only was I not disappointed, I was (even taking into account my high hopes for this film) pleasantly surprised by its quirkiness.
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Wes Craven is both known for his low-budget yet effective horror movies he produced and directed in the ‘70s and ‘80s and for the rebirth of the genre, initiated with big-budget teenage high school horror of Scream. Since Craven is crossing the boxes on his list of reworking classic monster movies, ever since Vampire in Brooklyn, it was just a matter of time before he would end up doing one about a werewolf.
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The only reason I can think of why two of the masters of the Danish Dogma movement want to do an all-American film, such as this one, is to be given a platform to criticize American society. To be more precise: the American weapon industry. I kept this in mind when I started to watch Dear Wendy, a project starring Jamie Billy Elliot Bell and Bill Pullman, directed by Thomas Festen Vinterberg and penned down by Lars von Trier. Unfortunately, the tone of this flick misses its target completely. Unless I am too stupid to grasp it that is, which I highly doubt.
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If you added all the ingredients listed in the recipe for a film such as My Summer of Love, from the opening credits on it will undoubtedly come to you in a total state of prejudice. The summer. A lesbian affair. Two girls, one parentless and low on the social ladder, the other posh and with rich parents. A brother who got out of jail and found redemption in the Lord. A sister who died some years ago. There you go: Ken Loach meets Better than Chocolate/Fucking Åmål – another standard and must see for gay cinema. Though it may not be completely satisfying, My Summer of Love succeeds in shifting all prejudices aside and tells a rather sweet, light-hearted story about two people falling in love, who happen to be girls.
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The title is somewhat misleading, as Tricky Dick was never murdered. Still, the story is based on true events, as apparently there was a man out to kill the 37th president of the United States. The story takes place in 1974 against the backdrop of the Vietnam War and the Watergate scandal: the very event which forced Nixon to step down. But this story is not really about Nixon, as much as it is about Samuel Bicke. Sam epitomizes the little guy, trampled underfoot by a corrupt and power-mongering system, rendering him and his kin powerless and full of repressed anger. Sean Penn gives life to Sam Bicke and consequently delivers the finest performance of his career.

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Hey everybody!
How would you like to take a twisted, maniacal, disturbing roller coaster ride? Sure, of course you would. And if I told you this ride was as close as your nearest video store, you’d be even happier, right? Right! Now, how would you feel if I told you that this roller coaster has no cars? In fact, the whole theme park has no front gate. There’s absolutely no way to get in. Hey, now you’re feeling a bit cheated. Now you know, in fact, how I felt about The Asylum’s Alien Abduction which you’ll find on your store shelves April 26th. Which is why you don’t get things like pictures this week.

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I loved Pierce Brosnan as James Bond. Not only were ‘his’ bond films all reasonably good, he also plays the perfect gentleman and gave bond more charme then ever before. At least since Connery. The same charme enables him to play gentlemen thieves with ease. He did it in The Thomas Crown Affair, and he does it again here.

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The Bloodsuckers Binge: a series of reviews on vampire movies in all incarnations as I look for, and find, any vampire movie I can get my grubby little hands on. The classics, the culty, the really good, the really old and inevitably: movies that suck!

This absolute gem by director E. Elias Merhighe is hard to qualify. It could be referred to as a vampire movie, a black comedy, a tribute to Nosferatu, a mockumentary, a satirical look at the film industry. You know what: tick all those boxes and then add classic to the list!

The opening credits are like an Art Nouveau version of the Bayeux Tapestry (which I guess could be considered the first movie ever). These credits too are a little movie in themselves and do a good job of setting the mood for the story, which is an imaginary tale about the making of Nosferatu.
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