Machete

Machete

So last night after much in-head debate I decided to head down the street to see Machete at 10:10. I guess I was just really itching to see a movay in general and the other choice was The American. And I am convinced that movie is so brain numbing that it would be mentally healthier for me to stay home and do canister whippits from balloons while watching Yo Gabba. So Machete was the only way to go-- (even though there was no part of me that was saying, 'See Machete, dude! I bet it rules!)' In my heart, I knew Machete wouldn't "rule". It had no ruling potential-- because for me there is no nostalgia for grindhouse stuff. I'm not attracted it it. I have no roots there. I think the colros are ugly. I don't like the synth music. Frankly, the whole vibe doesn't grab aholda my sack.

Besides hardcore film buffs that are exactly ten years older than me-- I'm not sure anyone is feeling the call to revisit a genre of movies that were known to be speckhackurlary awful. I get that maybe some of the old movies are 'funny' now because the acting is over the top and staged action looks cheesed and chunky purple blood gory is everywhere-- but I never clicked in with that scene. It strikes me as the ambitious little brother of bushy 70's porn. And by now, I think I can safely assume that most grindhousers have probably curdled into unwatchability. You simply have to be a certain type of film buff to revisit 'I Spit on Your Grave' over and over--- while there are those of us who have never even seen it once.

Anyway, there were some things I liked about Machete (pronounced Macheté by Machete) <<< btw which looks like a cologne). I liked the fact that the lead actor wasn't a pretty boy and a legit bad-ass journeyman. There was creative casting all around with the Don Johnson and the Lohan (although I don't think De Niro should really slum it this hard-- he's distractingly big for a movie this small). There's some entertaining stuff here. The immigration debate head-on smack is thinky etc. But when all is said and done-- this movie thinks its a good movie disguised as a bad movie--  but it's not nearly disguised well enough because you can easily peel back the cover and see underneath all we're dealing with is a pretty bad movie disguised as a worse bad movie.

I wanted it to be dementedly funnier and wildly gory. But stuff that was supposed to be 'funny' didn't really make me laugh out loud and the gory stuff didn't make me gag. I just nodded with acknowledgement at the intent. Seeing a fake hand chopped off didn't make me smile or frown. It just was. On the ground. Detatched. Blood splatter on the walls over and over got repetitive and toothless. Maybe I would have liked it more if I was seeing it in the right atmosphere. A hooting high crowd. But there were only a dozen people watching this with me at the local 'artsy' theater-- and the place was dead silent through the whole thing. There wasn't a communal experience. Nobody was rooting for it. Low room energy was a nail for the coffin. I lonelily snarfed a few times-- but dead silence deservingly steamrolled right over blatant jokes like, 'Machete don't text.'

Machete even mentioning 'texting' reminds me of a decent sized issue. This flick looks like it was from 1975-- but the 70's look clashed with the modern cellphones and stuff. I think you gotta pick your era and stick with it. Why have dust crackling on the screen when someone is talking on their cell? That doesn't sit right in my brain. It's like a film being shot in black and white with iPads in it. Where are we exactly? What time is it?

Anyway, as this film rolled along I could imagine really liking it-- if I wasn't who I am already. This movie is built for a certain type. Dudes who seat bounce while watching Dodge Dusters fly through the air and live for the femur snap. Dudes who have that chin-up respect for the celluloid messes that splattered the screens between 1970 and 1978. But that kid ain't me. Maybe I'm missing out. But even if I was 14 years old in 1975-- I can imagine myself in a rundown theater (no-inhale puffing on a Kool cigarette) and turning to a friend and saying, 'Dude, is it me? Or does this... suck?'

Three Good Things About this Movie

- It looked like it was fun to make.
- Topless girls in the pool. Solid.
- I liked the spinning machete multiple head choppers.

Three Bad Things About this Movie

- It dragged its (hacked off) feet half the time.
- Historically, Machete's destination is the Rite Aid spinner rack.
- Machete himself being an emotional flatline didn't give him that much to work with.

All in all, I gotta assume this movie is higher quality than Eat Pray Vom or other garbage cluttering up stuff nowadays. But grindhouse movies really are for hardcore movie fans who tie-off and mainline cinema--- and don't mind shooting it between their toes neither. But I'm a little too jaded for crackily bouncing boob films and someone getting their head kicked literally off. That being said if there are some genuinely good grindhouse movies to see, I'm open to em--- but they gotta at least be one better than their trailer.

<<<< CHYATT