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Kino Korner November 27, 2002
The Bung-Ality of Evil
By Mark Ames Browse author Email
Page 3 of 4
What's to say about Windpassers? It's got that whole Injun angle. You know that the Injuns are going to be sympathetic characters since they're oppressed and all. Nothing makes white Americans feel warmer inside than watching movies where they can side with people whom they've genocided -- it really makes them feel better about themselves.

Cage fails as a hardened Chow Yun-Fat type character tormented by a pained memory. Instead he comes off as an Elvis impersonator trying to play Chow Yun-Fat, which only reminds you how great Fat really is. The Injuns naturally have to put up with redneck prejudice. And Christian Slater is doing something in the movie that I didn't understand. All I know is that I don't want to watch him get older. It's too depressing. He's starting to look more and more like the counselor in South Park as he ages, his head ballooning and weird lines everywhere. M'kay?

I don't know what Woo's message is here: that Injuns won the war for us? That we can all get along and put the damn holocaust of the Injuns behind us?

Whatever. The war scenes are fake and the gore is unsatisfying, in spite of the hundreds of individual kills you're treated to. This movie came out 6 months ago so I don't know why it just hit Moscow.

RATING: Nothing. Better save your action-movie rubles for the upcoming Bond movie. Or maybe not. No stalker icon as one still holds out hope that Woo will return to Hong Kong to team up with Fat for one last Hong Kong blaster.


Serving Sara

I thought Serving Sara was supposed to be a chick flick so I resisted this film for weeks. Then I saw that Bruce "Ash" Campbell had third billing in the movie, so I decided to give it a chance.

Campbell came to Louisville last fall when I lived there. I was boning a waitress from Steak 'N Shake at the time whose best attribute was that she was a fan of Army of Darkness, a rarity among females. When Campbell came to a Shelbyville Road bookstore for a booksigning of If Chins Could Kill: Confessions of a B Movie Actor Katie zoomed to the store a day early to pick up her number. That's right: Ash was so popular that booksigning attendees needed numbers. There was a throng of young hicks, literally hundreds of trailer trash crowding into the bookstore, divided into time slots by color; within those colored time slots each fan was divided into numbers. Each fan got to spend one clocked minute with Campbell and have their book signed before being hustled away by Jefferson County's finest.

Katie came back after the book signing shaking with excitement. She said that Campbell was "really nice and down to earth." He signed her book, "Give me some sugar, baby. Bruce Campbell." It was a touching moment and provided the Steak 'N Shake girl and me with one of our only sources for between-sex conversation material.

In Serving Sara Campbell plays a rich Texas jerk who dumps Elizabeth Hurley for a less wrinkly and more Texas-looking bitch. Matthew Perry of Friends and rehab clinic fame competes with a fat ugly guinea at a subpoena-serving agency, and they're both fighting first to serve Hurley, then Campbell, with subpoenas, in order to impress their Negro boss.

Serving Sara starts off very promisingly. Matthew Perry looks horrible with his beak mouth and chinless double-chin. He looks exhausted and close to the end of his brief career. Drugs are taking their toll, and I have to admit it makes me feel good. He looks worse than me, so it's hard to hate him even for his Friends sins.

What makes Serving Sara likable from the beginning is how hostile everyone is to each other. It's such a relief, after living in America and watching American movies, where everyone is kind to the point of fear of offending, to see a bunch of surly characters all snapping at each other and double-crossing each other.

Also, the plot skillfully sets up all the ingredients for a successful madcap comedy. Competing subpoena servers working for a flamboyant and greedy Negro boss, rich Texan and his evil negroidal henchman, Elizabeth Hurley's breasts and legs, Elizabeth Hurley, and Elizabeth Hurley.

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The future of The eXile is in your hands! We're holding a fundraiser to save the paper, and your soul. Tune in to Gary Brecher's urgent request for reinforcements and donate as much as you can. If you don't, we'll be overrun and wiped off the face of the earth, forever.

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Everybody complains about celebrities, but nobody does anything about them. People, it’s time to stop fretting about whether we’re a celebrity-obsessed culture—we are, we have been, we’re going to be—and instead take practical steps to clean up the celebrity-obsessed culture we’ve got...


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