Director Report Card: Neveldine/Taylor (2024)

8. Hellboy: The Crooked Man

Directed by Brian Taylor

Within the world of comic book, Mike Mignola's “Hellboy” comics are beloved for their highly stylized, heavily shadowed artwork and pulp influenced writing. Comics remain an insular world, Mignola's “Hellboy” stories belonging to an even more niche circle of characters outside the iconic worlds of DC Comics and Marvel Comics. When Guillermo del Toro adapted the books into two films in the 2000s, the character and his world became much more of a beloved cult classic. However, while the del Toro “Hellboy” films are adored among a certain audience, neither were massive blockbusters on the scale of “The Dark Knight” or “Spider-Man.” Del Toro, Ron Perlman, and the fan wanted a conclusion to this trilogy... But studios were indifferent. Moreover, it seemed Mignola and del Toro had a falling out of sorts. This began a long journey to make another “Hellboy” movie but not del Toro's “Hellboy III.” 

The motion picture that eventually emerged from this development was Neil Marshell's 2019 “Hellboy” reboot, starring David Harbour. And nobody liked it. Critics absolutely slammed it, the box office receipts were not stellar, and nearly every review expressed much more interest in seeing a third film with Ron Perlman over this. Only four years passed before rights-holder Millennium Media – still best known, in my mind anyway, for “The Expendables” movies and action movies of much lesser prestige – announced another reboot. An actor nobody had heard of was cast as Hellboy. Brian Taylor, ostensibly the more respected half of the Neveldine/Taylor duo that still hadn't made a movie in seven years, was hired to direct. Filming took place in Bulgaria, where Millennium Media shoots a lot of low budget schlock. Early reports repeatedly emphasized that this was going to be a grittier, more horror-centric take on the character. The exact same promise that was made about the previous reboot. 

In other words, every piece of news that came out about this new “Hellboy” reeked of cheapness and desperation, of some producers trying to squeeze a little more blood out of this brimstone. That impression wasn't dismissed once images, posters, and trailers started to crop up, each one making the film look more like it was designed for television than theaters. The idea that “Hellboy: The Crooked Man” – as the reboot was entitled – was the cheap, cash-in, straight-to-video “Hellboy” movie occurred to many. That prophecy was fulfilled when the negative buzz around the film had distributors pulling “The Crooked Man” from theaters a few weeks before it was scheduled to come out and instead sent it to video-on-demand. Now that the movies has been out a while, the few people who have watched it seem to like it even less than the previous reboot. As a fan of Mignola and sometimes Taylor's work, it's time for me to weigh in on whether this new “Hellboy” is worthwhile. 

Perhaps to further distinguish itself from previous “Hellboy” movies, “The Crooked Man” is set in 1959. Hellboy, that half-human and half-defender paranormal investigator for the B.P.R.D., is travelling via train through the Appalachian Mountains. His companion is Bobbie Jo Song, a new B.P.R.D. Agent eager to get out into the field. The strong evil presence in the valley causes their cargo – an accursed, giant spider – to go berserk. Hellboy and Song crash out of the train car and find themselves in the poor communities of the area. They soon come across a bewitched young man. This leads them on a quest into the local witchcraft community. Teaming up with a young soldier named Tom Ferrell, they cross a witch named Effie Kolb and a demonic entity known as the Crooked Man.

The “Hellboy” comics are definitely darker than the most well known cinematic adaptations of the character. Mignola's work draws extensively from world mythology, usually pulling threats and plot points from obscure folklore from all over. By making its setting in Appalachia – a corner of the globe I have some familiarity with – “The Crooked Man” explores concepts from folk magik. Witch balls are plot points, the ingredients to make one explained in one scene. We see a witch crawl into her abandoned skin, not unlike the Boo Hag of Carolina lore. Mason jars full of creepy bugs, zombies in abandoned church yards, and underground tunnels full of hostile spirits all put in appearances. In other words, “Hellboy: The Crooked Man” falls soundly into the subgenre we now know as folk horror, a premise Mignola's work has always been in discussion with. 

Another question is more pressing though. Does “The Crooked Man” successfully move the “Hellboy” film series into horror? Del Toro's film were more on the side of dark fantasy, while the previous reboot leaned on edgy, metal album cover imagery. “The Crooked Man” is certainly attempting to created scares. Ominous figures emerge from the darkness. As you'd expect, the titular villain is depicted as a creaking, cackling corpse. A notable sequence has Hellboy doing battle with a horde of zombies in a spooky church. The reboot has some visceral imagery up its sleeve, such as a cackling witch ascending up into the treetops, crows pecking someone's eyes out, or a snake emerging from, well, a very sensitive part of someone's anatomy. The atmosphere is more on the foreboding side here, invoking something closer to a seventies Hammer movie than a comic book blockbuster. The make-up effects used to bring the ghouls and creeps to life are, it must be said, decent too. 

Not that any of it is scary. I mean, most horror movies aren't. That the protagonist of this movie is a nearly indestructible demon child goes a long way towards draining any thrills. It's hard to build tension when you know that your hero won't be seriously hurt. At one point, Hellboy shrugs off getting run through with some iron fence posts. Moreover, Taylor and his team can't inject any of these scenarios, no matter how transgressive they might be, with any sort of dread or foreboding. Sequences, such as Hellboy being tossed through the air or the evil forces closing in on the heroes, are too flatly presented to generate much thrills. It certainly doesn't help that, in general, “Hellboy: The Crooked Man” is too fucking dark. I mean that literally. Like far too many movies this day, it's seriously underlit and a number of scenes are hard to follow on account of being so badly illuminated. Maybe this was an attempt to replicate Mignola's black ink heavy artwork but it backfires.

Since the Neveldine/Taylor partnership has been dissolved for a while now, both having made several movies as solo acts now, a few things have become clear. First off, the over-the-top and willfully offensive comedy that energized the “Crank” films seems to have mostly come from Neveldine's side of the collaboration. Brian Taylor, meanwhile, seems to be the one largely responsible for the distinctive, feet-on-the-ground visual approach of those movies. You can see a little bit of that in “The Crooked Man.” The opening titles occur suddenly on-screen, over some shots of the foggy, desolate landscapes. Bulgaria isn't not a perfect one-to-one duplicate of Appalachia but, if nothing else, it does provide a distinctive ambiance all its own. Moreover, you can see some of the frenetic camera work and editing here. Only in a few scenes and the film could stand to be a lot more distinctive. 

Unfortunately, it's very clear why “The Crooked Man” is both so darkly lit and so visually underwhelming. Wikipedia lists the film as having a 20 million dollar budget which is, in the scope of modern Hollywood blockbuster filmmaking, a pittance. This is reflected in the limited settings for the film. A large portion of “The Crooked Man” takes place in that spooky church, underground tunnels, nondescript cabins, or a – admittedly decent looking – dilapidated mansion. Mostly interior sets that could be cheaply assembled. The action scenes are modest, with little of the computer generated flash and bang we expect from a superhero flick. This is probably a good thing, as the CGI that is in the film is... Underwhelming. The opening scuffle Hellboy has with a giant spider is not the most convincing, the enormous arachnid rarely seeming to occupy the same plain of existence as the red-skinned hero. A large snake that shows up later looks faker. The more of “The Crooked Man” I watched, the more I began to suspect that the reboot emphasized the horror angle of the material because it was a lot cheaper to bring to life than elaborate action scenes. 

A clear lack of funds and an inability to generate much thrills from its assortment of horrors is not the only thing keeping this “Hellboy” from being better. An actor named Jack Kesy dons the blunted horns and Right Hand of Doom, who seems mostly known for television and supporting roles in bigger movies. Kesy, admittedly, does an okay job of embodying the blue collar sensibilities of Hellboy as a character. He groans the character's catchphrase of “Ah crap” with the right level of designation. If nothing else, Kesy is an improvement over David Harbour's petulant, angsty teenage boy take on the character in the previous reboot.. However, Kesy still stands in the shadow of Ron Perlman's pitch perfect Hellboy. In fact, from the inflection of his voice to his burly body language, Kesy seems to be directly emulating Perlman. “The Crooked Man” was doomed to remind viewers of better, earlier movies but a star who can't make the protagonist his own makes that all that more glaring.

Ultimately, “The Crooked Man's” plot seems a bit unfocused and meandering at times too. The script does not do a great job of tying its various subplots together. This is very clear in the detours it makes towards explaining Hellboy's origins. Throughout the film, the demonic hero is haunted by visions of his witch mother, who underwent a horrible sacrifice to bring him into his world. If Kesy is decent when grumbling as Hellboy in the face of danger, his performance flounders into melodramatics when trying to wring pathos out of the material. In fact, the scenes devoted to this subplot drag horribly. There's a thematic thread in “The Crooked Man” about sin and guilt, which these moments are obviously playing off of, but the film struggles to make us care about them.

Previous “Hellboy” movies also built up a lovable supporting cast, from lovesick fishman Abe Sapian to pyrokinetic Liz Sherman. Much like the previous reboot, “The Crooked Man” lacks both of these characters. The cast members it introduces to compensate simply aren't as compelling. Adeline Rudolph makes for a decent enough foil for Kesy's Hellboy to bounce off of. However, the script's attempts to build some pathos around her backstory – done via another awkward flashback – is never convincing. In fact, all the new characters would probably be a lot more interesting if the film didn't devote so much time to setting up their origins. Jefferson White as Tom Ferrell and Joseph Marcell as the blind Reverend aren't giving bad performances. The script simply mistakes exposition for development. The further into “The Crooked Man” we got, the more I was forced to conclude that I simply wasn't that invested in any of these characters.

I can certainly understand why so many people are deriding “The Crooked Man” so much. The film can't defeat the impression that it was quickly and cheaply rushed into production before an option or something expired. Trying to move “Hellboy” more into a horror direction isn't a bad idea. At times, when focused on its hero smacking zombies away, it actually almost works. In a more forgiving film, I could even see Kesy's take on Hellboy growing on me. However, much like the Marshall/Harbour reboot, “Hellboy: The Crooked Man” simply can't overcome a seemingly insurmountable expectations: I'd rather by watching del Toro's “Hellboy III.” Mignola co-wrote this script and it's probably more faithful to the source material than previous adaptations. It also can't recaptured the unique charm of the earlier, better movies. It is less obnoxious than the other “Hellboy” though. I'll give it that much but falls to much the same failings, in that it stands unimpressively in the shadows of the Hellboys that came before. [Grade: C]

Director Report Card: Neveldine/Taylor (2022)

7. Panama

Directed by Mark Neveldine

In 2021, Vulture published an article delving into the somewhat sketchy business dealings of producer Randall Emmett. Emmett built a mini-empire of low-budget, direct-to-VOD action movies in which washed-up stars of old get top-billing for appearing in a handful of scenes, while generic theatrics starring much cheaper actors happen around them. The article would provide an extremely useful name for this style of movie, which has somehow proliferated over the last decade: The geezer teaser. You get a geezer, film enough scenes with him to qualify as a “teaser,” stick his name above the title and his face on the DVD box, and fill the rest of the 90 minutes out with whatever. It's a classic exploitation movie model that, despite the death of video stores and Redbox, has proliferated. The incredibly depressing last ten years of Bruce Willis' career was made up almost entirely of these kind of movies, for only the most prominent example. 

Considering his horribly racist antics have slowly made him hard to hire for big budget productions, it's no surprise that Mel Gibson would find steady work in this niche. In 2022, Mel would lent his fading star power to five such films. They have generic names like “Hot Seat,” “Agent Game,” “Bandit,” or “On the Line” and not a single soul alive can recall actually watching any of them. Rarely are the filmmakers behind these strictly mercenary productions any one especially notable. There are exceptions though. Mark Neveldine, half of the ostensibly talented team that brought us the “Crank” movies, would take a paycheck making one of these in 2022. And that is why I'm talking about “Panama,” sure to be among the least notable motion pictures I will ever write about. 

As the title suggests, “Panama” is set in 1989, right before the United States' invasion of the titular country. Retired bad-ass Becker is drinking away his grief over a dead wife. An old co-worker named Stark approaches him with an employment opportunity. Becker is hired by the CIA to go undercover in Central America. He is to infiltrate the local casino and drug trafficking business to help purchase a helicopter for Contra rebels in a scheme designed to assassinate Panamanian dictator Manuel Noriega. Becker soon gets in over his head, making friends and enemies, falling in love with a beautiful woman named Camila, and becoming sympathetic to those fighting against the military regime. 

By some extraordinary circumstances, “Panama” was not produced by Randall Emmett. His movies are usually distributed by Liongates. This one was put out by Saban Films – yes, the “Power Rangers” guys – who have also had a hand in plenty of movies like this. Despite no association with the King of the Geezer Teasers, “Panama” still checks off all the boxes to qualify. Gibson's face takes up the most room on the poster, his name above the title, despite having maybe ten minutes of screen time throughout the film. Mostly in the beginning and end, with a couple of scenes of him talking on the phone peppered throughout. Instead, a lumbering Cole Hauser is the actual star of the movie. There's an abundant amount of female nudity, plenty of sex, lots of guns, and a moderate amount of explosions and shoot-outs. One of the CIA guys we see at the start of the movie turns out to be a bad guy at the end. It's all extremely routine.

One can't help but assume that films of this type are primarily rented, bought, and watched by the most non-discerning of audiences. By which I mean old guys. The geezer teaser is designed to appeal to exactly the kind of facile macho wish fulfilment fantasies of its ideal viewer. “Taken” is the bigger budget predecessor to the entire genre, a movie specifically design to appeal to dads looking to re-establish their masculine powers despite being well into the second half of their lives. Fittingly, the hero of “Panama” is a semi-retired tough guy who is wracked with guilt over the death of a wife, having crawled into a bottle to cope. His adventure here takes him to an exotic land where he gets to show that he's still a bad-ass and hop into bed with another beautiful woman, while still nebulously seeking revenge for the death of his first wife. The very first scene even includes Gibson, in voiceover, describing what a certified action hero this guy is and how kicking ass and taking names for the U.S. of A. is the best feeling in the world. 

In other words, “Panama” is lowest common denominator stuff, designed to thrill and titillate only the most bored of customers. Despite that obvious goal, the film has a surprisingly convoluted plot. One might even call it needlessly convoluted. The story involves our hero making deals, manipulating, back-stabbing, and bossing around a number of shady drug lords, rebel types, and high rollers. I'll admit, I lost track of the story almost immediately. “Panama” works through a plethora of subplots and supporting characters as it winds through its glacially paced 95 minute runtime. Faces come and go, often getting shot, but not a one of them make an impression, much less what purpose they serve in this meandering narrative.

That's the dirty secret of the geezer teaser. Well, the other one, after the obvious fact that the washed-up action icon promised on the Netflix thumbnail won't actually do that much. No, despite ostensibly luring the audience in with action movie cheap thrills, these movies are frequently uneventful. Still, within the realm of this underachieving subgenre, “Panama” is an especially egregious example. An overwhelmingly large percentage of this motion picture is made up of people sitting around in rooms and talking. Becker talks to rebel leaders in underground bunkers. He talks to drug kingpins in their hotel rooms, by the pool, on their balconies. He makes deals at the casino, answer phone calls in bed and on the couch. For a film that promises big action, “Panama” mostly delivers a lot of sitting around and talking it out. 

Why this is the case is not too difficult to discern. Obviously, “Panama” is mostly dudes sitting in rooms because that's a whole lot cheaper to do than actual action scenes. That cheapness radiates off this entire production. There are many signs throughout that very little money was available here. Every time a gun fire, a cheap-looking CGI muzzle flair is utilized. The characters outright reference “Welcome to the Jungle” by Guns 'n' Roses before instead playing a generic piece of rock music, cause this movie had nowhere near the funds to licenses a well known song. The most hilariously cheap sequence in the film arrives when Becker is challenged to a dirt bike race by the secondary antagonist. What follows is a messy montage of close-ups of the actual actors on bikes, wearing helmets, and quite clearly barely moving cut together with far-off shots of stuntmen on the same bikes doing all the actual racing. To further sell this half-assed illusion, there are several shots in which the camera was mounted to the side of the bike... Meaning the riders' asses are right in our faces. A bold cinematic choice there, let me tell ya. 

The handful of times “Panama” actually does attempt to function as an action movie are equally underwhelmed. A shoot-out between Contra rebels and government backed enforcers is haphazardly edited, to the point of near incoherence. Mel Gibson does actually appear to kick a dude in one scene. At 66 years old, Mel was still a more convincing action figure than Cole Hauser. Burly, somewhat doughy Hauser shuffles like an arthritic sasquatch through a handful of fight scenes. The most embarrassing of which is a very slow foot chase down a flight of stairs, the filmmakers desperately attempting to make this mundane scene look exciting through a rapid fire succession of edits. When that doesn't work – which it never does – the film leans on some shaky, handheld camera instead. 

While it's hard to read that last factoid as a positive measure, it is one of the few signs that half of the team who made “Crank” was responsible for this movie. Mark Neveldine's visual style has always featured gritty, frantic camera work. Aside from that, the Neveldine/Taylor style can be spotted briefly a few other times. Military insurgents playing their machine guns as if they are guitars, while epic riffs play on the radio and shooting at bad guys, is the kind of over-the-top, self-consciously ridiculous macho thing you'd expect from these guys. The irreverent and edgy dialogue is also apparent in Gibson's voiceover narration, which often feels like tossed-off one-liners Mel recorded during a lunch break. Also, a minor character has the middle name of “Fagoth,” the sort of willfully offensive comedy that crops up in the more Tromatastic moments of the directors' work.

Other than that, it feels like any old hack could've directed “Panama.” The film also includes plenty of the leering sexism that cropped up in the “Crank” flicks and “Gamer.” Not that this is unique to Mark Neveldine. However, even by the standards of low budget action movies, “Panama” shows a startling disregard for women. The sex and nudity is excessive, with Hauser's primary love interest existing mostly to writhe around naked atop him while he awkwardly lays there. The drug kingpin character is always surrounded by half-naked or fully naked concubines. At one point, he presents a woman's crotch to our hero and says it is the source of all power. If that wasn't glaringly sexist enough, every female character in the movie exists to either die and provide a tragic motivation for the hero, be sexualized, captured, nag at him, or all of the above. If the film didn't suck so bad, casual misogyny of this level would almost be kind of impressive. 

Somehow, reducing every woman in this story to bitches, whores, or corpses is not the most offensive thing about “Panama.” The movie invoking the U.S. imperialism in Central America of the late eighties almost could get a pass, as some sort of ironic statement about Uncle Sam's action during this time. Instead, the script seems quite sincere in treating the interloping CIA agents as the good guys. Far worse is how the film invokes the abuse and war crimes that occurred during Noriega's reign. Hauser wanders through a refugee camp filled with dismembered and crippled men, women, and children. At one point, hideous sexual violence committed by the soldiers is referenced. Why put these scenes in your disposable action movie? Was this an attempt to add some gravitas to the material? Or another one of the Neveldine/Taylor provocations? Either way, it surely sticks out, moving the film from merely tacky to utterly tasteless. 

More honestly, these gross elements feel like the result more of a clueless lack-of-effort than a genuine attempt to offend. When not being funny in its cheapness or questionable in its politics, “Panama” is mostly extremely boring. The film easily feels twice as long as its modest hour-and-a-half runtime, going on past several logical end points. It is very sad that a filmmaker who once could be counted on for hyperactive, outrageous subversions of standard action tropes would end up doing a movie so totally lacking in drive, originality, or a sense of purpose as this. “Panama” might not be the worst movie I've reviewed. It might be among the laziest though, an aggressively tedious and pointless experience whose appeals to puerile interest can't awaken the viewer from the stupor it puts them in. [Grade: F]

Director Report Card: Neveldine/Taylor (2018)

6. Mom and Dad
Directed by Brian Taylor

Since the desolation of the Neveldine/Taylor partnership, the directors have been doing their own things. Mark Neveldine directed disappointingly lame possession flick “The Vatican Tapes” and produced two odd action footnotes, “Urge” and “Officer Downe.” Brian Taylor has been a little more quiet. He's written, directed, or produced several episodes of magical unicorn/rogue cop series “Happy!” After being filmed last year, his solo feature directorial debut has gotten a semi-wide release this month. “Mom and Dad” reunites the filmmaker with his "Ghost Rider 2" star, Nicolas Cage. And, honestly, it's been a while since a leading man and a director are so perfectly matched to each other.

Brett and Kendall Ryan are the proud parents of two kids. Daughter Carly is growing into a smart-ass teenager, stealing from her mom, doing drugs, and sneaking out to be with her boyfriend. Son Josh is a hyper-energetic ten year old. Despite that, the family lives a comfortable life, Brett's job paying for a maid and allowing Kendall to be a stay-at-home mom. A normal day is interrupted when a strange virus begins to sweep the neighborhood. Something is compelling parents to murder their children. Brett and Kendall soon come under the sway of this strange condition, forcing Carlie and Josh to fight for their lives against their mother and father.

On paper, “Mom and Dad” sounds like a harrowing horror film. The death of children is still one of the big taboos of the horror genre. The idea of parents becoming homicidal towards their own kids, like a reverse “Who Could Kill a Child?,” could be mined for serious horror. Instead, Brian Taylor embraces his gonzo tendencies. “Mom and Dad” is a dark horror/comedy that frequently veers towards the manic and wacky. This is best displayed in a scene where a brand new mother attempts to strangle her newborn baby. What begins as an intense moment soon gravitates towards audacious absurdity, the dangling umbilical cord dragging behind the mother as she approaches the screaming newborn.

The film makes an especially inspired decision. It would've been easy to turn this premise into a zombie movie. To have the parents be mindless murder machines, targeting their kids with a single-minded determination. However, “Mom and Dad” lets its homicidal parents keep their personalities. So Kendall waves at the neighbors while she’s walking around the house to poison her kids. Brent remains obsessed with his old sports car in the garbage. When the grandfather shows up, he pauses in his murderous fury to enthusiastically greet his grandson. That contrast creates a lot of humor and adds so much more personality to the movie.

The best horror movies root their premises in something stronger and richer. “Mom and Dad,” though far from a serious horror film, does indeed have a potent concept at its center. This is a movie about one of the darkest secrets of parenthood: That sometimes parents resent their children. That they give up so much, their youth and their hopes and dreams, to raise their kids instead. Sometimes, maybe then even wish the kids were dead. This is touched upon in several key scenes. The most pivotal one involves Brent and Kendal talking about their regrets in the basement, looking at how their youth is lost and how things have changed so much.

Most people will want to check out “Mom and Dad” because of its star. This is another movie primarily devoted to Nicolas Cage going fucking ballistic. And, oh boy, is it entertaining. In the early scenes, Cage has fun playing an up-tight, suburban dad, dropping hints at his future homicidal rage to come. Once the virus affects him, Cage goes to the insane heights we all know he is capable of. He yells, screams, he rants and raves. At one point, he begins to repeats the brand name of a reciprocating saw over and over again. By the end, he’s running through the house, barking and howling like a dog. He’s set on fire, with Fruit Loops stuck to his face. A much hyped scene has Cage destroying a pool table with a sledgehammer while singing “The Honky Pokey.” Yes, that is absolutely a high-light of the movie.

Nic Cage going insane in an indie, genre movie is delightful but expected. A nice surprise in “Mom and Dad” is Selma Blair. Blair keeps pace with Cage. She begins as a dotting mom, quickly transferring into full-blown panic mode when the chaos starts. After coming under the influence of the wave, Blair suddenly transforms into a convincing villain. She coldly goes about her homicidal mission. As her offspring prove harder to executed then expected, Blair lets her manic side out more and more. Blair happily seesaws between mouth-foaming madness and a sweet, material side that isn’t even suppressed by her need to kill.

Cage and Blair are clearly the stars of the show. Technically, their kids are actually the protagonists of the film though. Anne Winters plays Carly, the daughter. Winters has some issues to overcome, as the character is unappealing initially. However, as the situation becomes more and more severe, Winters’ will to survive makes the character endearing. As ten year old Josh, Zackary Arthur – who already has quite a few credits, despite his young age – shows some clear abilities, panicking well and making the audience like him. Lance Henriksen puts in a late film appearance. The opening credits spoil this appearance, which otherwise would’ve been a fun surprise. Henriksen is also hamming it in a fun way.

Comparing “The Vatican Tapes” and “Mom and Dad,” you get the impression that the driving visual force behind the “Crank” films was Brian Taylor. “Mom and Dad” continues the frenetic style that characterized those movies. There’s often a frantic, kinetic energy in the film. The action scenes verge on the difficult to follow at times. Near the end, when the kids are wrestling with Mom, it almost becomes too much. however, when it works, this style lends “Mom and Dad” an energy almost as wild its leading performers. Taylor also tags on a retro-style opening credits, bringing a grindhouse feeling to the entire movie, in addition to being a decent work of art on its own.

As a horror/comedy, “Mom and Dad” mostly goes for comedy over scares. However, there’s still one or two moments that actually function as straight-up horror. Carly’s boyfriend takes some pretty severe abuse. There’s a bracing attack with his own father, involving a shattered beer bottle. Later, a wire coat-hanger is weaponinzed a cringe-inducing way. The film’s opening sequence, where a mother calmly parks her mini-van on train tracks before walking away, functions as a chilling short film as its own. The aforementioned scene, involving the newborn, eventually shifts towards crazy humor but does begin with an upsetting set-up.

Even separated from his directorial partner, Brian Taylor still displays some of the same problems. As in “Gamer” and “Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance,” “Mom and Dad” has some pacing problems. For a while, the film has an odd back-and-forth, going from manic, high energy sequences and slower, more character-oriented moments. That leaves the viewer with a bit of whiplash. However, as it goes on, “Mom and Dad” finds its footing as a high-speed, increasingly nutty thriller. The last act gets especially insane, the film adding more characters and getting wilder as the movie clatters towards an intentionally blunt ending.

The score for “Mom and Dad” is credited to an entity called “Mr. Bill.” Matching its retro opening credits, the film’s score has a distinctively eighties feeling to it. It’s heavy on throbbing, anxious synth. Occasionally, the scattered melodies seem to intentionally recall Disasterpiece’s score for “It Follows.” Other times, the soundtrack leans heavily on wailing, heavy metal guitars. The film also features some especially inspired needle drops. Erasure’s “Chains of Love” puts in a hilarious appearance at one point.

Pretty much from the moment it was announced, “Mom and Dad” was more-or-less destined to become a cult favorite. One of the “Crank” guys making a horror movie where Nic Cage goes to maximum Cage-ness? Yeah, there was going to be a devoted following for that. Luckily, “Mom and Dad” is a lot of fun for the most part. Taylor brings some neat gimmicks to the premise, putting his own spin on it. This isn’t worth seeing just because Nic Cage goes completely fucking bug-nuts in it. There are other reasons to watch it, even though that’s still a really good reason to catch it out. [Grade: B]

Director Report Card: Neveldine/Taylor (2015)

5. The Vatican Tapes
Directed by Mark Neveldine

After “Paranormal Activity,” every studio had a found footage horror movie in development. Most of these – the likes of “The Devil Inside,” “Grave Encounters,” not to mention numerous “Paranormal Activity” sequels – came out quickly.  “The Vatican Tapes” was announced around the same time. The film was supposedly a found footage horror film concerning the Vatican's secret cache of recorded exorcisms. While many other films of this style were quickly churned out, “The Vatican Tapes” went into turnaround, suffering rewrites. By the time the movie was finally released, found footage horror was overexposed. This forced a change in style. Director Mark Neveldine, making his first movie without Brian Taylor, delivered a more standard horror flick. One that was barely released in most parts of the world.

Angela Holmes seemingly lives a normal life. She has just moved into a new house with her boyfriend, a relationship her former military father doesn't entirely approve of. Her birthday festivities are interrupted when a bad cut sends her to the hospital. After returning home, her behavior becomes strange. She has seizures and violent outburst. She wrecks her car, ending up in a coma for forty days. Upon awakening, her unnerving behavior continues. She attempts to kill a baby. She incites violence in the other patients. She speaks languages she can't know, performs seemingly impossible acts. Soon, the hospital perish believes her to be possessed and receives permission from the Vatican to perform an exorcism.

Say what you will about the films Mark Neveldine made with Brian Taylor but at least they were identifiable as their movies. The two “Crank” movies were brilliantly insane action flicks, that pushed the rules of the genre as far as possible into the realm of gonzo comedy. Even their lesser motion pictures, “Gamer” and the “Ghost Rider” sequel, had moments of brilliance. The two followed their demented muse, mixing juvenile comedy and highly energetic action scenes to varying degrees of success. “The Vatican Tapes,” meanwhile, shows few of trademarks recognizable in the duo's previous pictures. Mark Neveldine has made a fairly standard religious horror film. If his name wasn't on it, you'd never know this was from one-half of the team that made “Crank.”

“The Vatican Tapes'” ended up not being a found footage movie but you can still see its roots in the genre. The story’s events are frequently captured by security cameras. While Angela’s in the mental hospital, her demonic shenanigans are recorded by surveillance cameras. Such as her bed moving across the room on its own or a raven pecking at the window. Before the exorcism begins, the priest installs a miniature digital camera in the room. This feeds into the film’s primary gimmick, the Vatican has a collection of demonic activity on tape. The constant cutting away is potentially interesting. The film has the potential to comment on the role surveillance plays in our life now. Yet it’s mostly just a distracting creative decision, putting the film at a weird halfway mark between a traditional horror movie and a found footage flick.

If you watched “The Vatican Tapes” back-to-back with “Crank,” you’d probably never guess that the same director worked on both movies. Only one sequence in the entire film hints at this direction. While staying at the hospital, Angela occasionally joins a group therapy session. The other people in the circle are clearly mentally unstable and Angela’s Satanic presence clearly upsets them. This leads towards a memorable moment where the crazy people become violent, attacking each other and the nurses. They flip over chairs, slams someone through a table, and one hangs himself with a camera chord. The scene recalls the controlled chaos of Neveldine/Taylor’s other films. Unsurprisingly, it’s one of the best scenes in the movie.

Otherwise, “The Vatican Tapes” is visually indistinct. There’s very little of the frantic action that characterized Neveldine’s films with Brian Taylor. The film is shot through an overcast filter, most of the story taking place in shades of brown. There’s frequently a golden glow to the scenes devoted to Angela’s home life, which at least brings a warm feeling to mind. Upon arriving at the psychiatric clinic, gray becomes the color of the day. It’s all an attempt to capture a realistic, gritty perspective. In practice, it just makes the movie super boring to look at.

As a horror movie, “The Vatican Tapes” presents very little that audiences haven’t already seen. The film primarily trades in cheap jump scares. While the happy couple are on a bus, a bird smashes into the window. This is, of course, a preface to another bird successfully breaking the glass and attacking the people on the bus. Other loud sequences include crash-zooms on eyeballs or grimacing faces. When that doesn’t work, the movie falls back on shock tactics. Angela attempts to drown a baby from the newborn ward. She seduces a security guard before psychically causing the ceiling to collapses on him. A police officer gouges his eyes out with light bulbs. The film is attempting to create a foreboding atmosphere but the constant loud shocks prevent that from happening.

“The Vatican Tapes” is marching towards the inevitable exorcism sequence. At first, it seems like the filmmakers might be attempting to subvert expectations. The priest assigned with getting the demon out of Angela seems potentially unhinged at first. He talks about being possessed as a child. As the ritual goes on, his intentions shift from removing the entity from Angela to murdering her. You begin to wonder if he’s a danger to the girl. All of this is a red herring: The priest is in the right. Angela really has been taken over by a demon intent on ending the world. So that interesting bit of ambiguity is tossed out the window.

In truth, when the time comes for “The Vatican Tapes” to ramp up the scares, the movie really falls apart. The film begins to rely on overdone CGI. On scene that really got an eye roll from me involves Angela in chains. She pulls against the links, yanking her shoulders out of their sockets. This goes on until her spine twists in half. Potentially effective, right? Not so much, as the movie creates the contortion solely with CGI. Later, “The Vatican Tapes” piles on more computer generated spectacle. People fade out of their clothes. Others imagine animal attacks. A CGI fire cloud bursts through the room. It’s fairly lame stuff.

As one final kick in the ass, “The Vatican Tapes” tosses in an asinine twist ending. Angela just isn’t possessed by any ol’ demon. She’s the actual Antichrist, a false prophet sent to usher in the End of Days. An obnoxious resolution involves a secret group of Catholic priest watching the girl come to fame, growing in popularity, preparing the world for the Apocalypse. It’s a last ditch effort to make this cheap horror movie seem more important than it actually is, granting an unearned layer of pretensions to the proceedings. And all it succeeds in doing is pissing off the audience.

So what about the performances? Olivia Taylor Dudley stars as Angela. Dudley appears to be a favorite of the found footage horror genre, as she also appears in “Chernobyl Diaries,” “Dude Bro Party Massacre III,” and the sixth “Paranormal Activity” movie. In this film, she relatively charming when playing a normal person. Once she becomes possessed, Dudley fluctuates between wide-eyed starring and turning the volume way the fuck up. Eh, she’s okay. Dougray Scott, the man who was Wolverine in an alternate universe, plays her dad. Scott spends most of the movie with a sour look on his face, grimacing at everyone around him. John Patrick Amedori plays Angela’s boyfriend, a totally useless character that contributes nothing to the film. Amedori is a blank. If you look closely, you can also spot cameos from Michael Pare and Allison Lohman.

There’s at least more charisma on the church’s side. The only really likable character in the film is Father Lozano, the hospital parish played by Michael Pena. Lozano was a veteran of the Iraq War. After seeing so much bloodshed, he turned his life towards God. Pena successfully tows the line between a skeptic and a believer, unsettled by what he’s seen by looking for a logical explanation. Pena also brings some humor to the film, which it desperately needed. Most of the other priests are more intense. Peter Andersson, best known as the raping lawyer in the original “Girl with the Dragon Tattoo,” plays the Cardinal overseeing the exorcism. Andersson brings some wide-eyed intensity to the role but isn’t given much to do. Djimon Hounsou appears as a Vicar at the Vatican but it’s another example of the talented Hounsou being wasted in a nothing part.

“The Vatican Tapes” was finally released in 2015, going more-or-less direct to video after a tiny theatrical release. Few people saw it and those that did hated it. I don’t know if Mark Neveldine was working under studio pressure or meddling producers, which is why he delivered such a mediocre, lame product. The film’s lengthy production certainly points towards that. But what if this really was the movie he wanted to make? That’s depressing. Either way, “The Vatican Tapes” is a deeply forgettable, unremarkable motion picture. If this is the kind of material Neveldine is going to make on his own, let’s hope he reunites with Brian Taylor soon. [Grade: D]

The Neveldine/Taylor partnership will remain separated for a while. Brian Taylor will be making his solo directional debut this year with "Mom and Dad," a horror project with a decent premise that reunites him with Nicolas Cage. Hopefully, it'll be better than "The Vatican Tapes" was. I also hope that a string of disappointments doesn't derail either directors' career, as both clearly have the chops to make insane movies. If nothing else, there's always "Crank 3" to go back to.

Thus concludes another Director Report Card. Thank you for reading. 

Director Report Card: Neveldine/Taylor (2011)

4. Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance

“Gamer” may have flopped but the unique directorial team of Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor weren't down for the count just yet. The duo would get their biggest budget yet by taking a stab at the ever-popular superhero genre. On one hand, few people were probably asking for a sequel to the critically reviled but financially successful “Ghost Rider.” On the other hand, if any Marvel character was perfectly suited to Neveldine/Taylor's aesthetics, it's Ghost Rider. The cool-for-cool's-sake macho stupidity of a flaming skeleton biker that either fights or works for the Devil is a good fit for the guys behind “Crank.” Despite the ideal directional team, “Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance” would open to weaker box office and somehow earn even weaker reviews than the widely disliked original.

Eight years have passed since Johnny Blaze was first called upon to become the Ghost Rider. He is running from his rather literal demons, hiding out in Eastern Europe and drinking too much. That's when an eccentric monk named Moreau appears to him. The man tells Blaze he can remove his curse, exorcise the demon that forces him to transform, in return for a favor. Blaze is to protect Nadya and her son, Danny. Danny is the half-human off-spring of the same devil that cursed Blaze. The demonic lord is determined to possess the boy's body, which is sturdier then his current form. In order to protect the child from the devil and his henchmen, Johnny Blaze will have to become the Ghost Rider once more.

“Spirit of Vengeance” is not exactly a direct sequel to the poorly received original. Instead, it's a “soft reboot.” The film treats the original in broad strokes. Very little continuity passes between the two films. A few small details –  such as the name, appearance, and general nature of the devil Blaze signs his sole over to – are explicitly different. Overall, the second “Ghost Rider” movie doesn't contradict much from part one but more-or-less stands alone. The reason for this is pretty clear. “Ghost Rider” made money but wasn't very well liked. “Spirit of Vengeance” didn't have much to loose by being different from the original.

Among the changes is a much improved appearance for the fiery anti-hero. The CGI in the first “Ghost Rider” started to age badly the minute the movie hit theaters. The decision to give Ghost Rider a pristine, perfectly white skull gave the character an overly artificial appearance. For “Spirit of Vengeance,” Ghost Rider gets a design that could only be described as crispier. The skull is now charred black. The flames around his skull and pouring out of his sleeves feel hotter and sweatier. His leather jacket also receives a blackened, gooey appearance. The director's grittier aesthetic makes Ghost Rider, a visually ridiculous character, look a little more plausible.

The first “Ghost Rider” had a campy sense of humor that I didn't mind but rubbed many viewers the wrong way. “Spirit of Vengeance” has its own brand of comic relief. The directors bring their trademark absurdity to the story. This is most apparent in the handful of animated sequences that appear in the film. The film opens with Nicolas Cage explaining Johnny Blaze's origin, which includes a bare-ass motorcycle stunt. Later, when a running through a list of the various human forms the devil has taken over the years, Jerry Springer puts in a surprise appearance. These brief animated moments is also the closest Neveldine/Taylor get to the more extreme visual playfulness the two brought to the “Crank” films.

The directors' madcap sense of humor really comes up when Ghost Rider himself appears. When Nicolas Cage begins to change, the camera vibrates around the actor spasmodically. One amazing scene has the rage overtaking Cage. As he tears down the road, the camera lingers on his face, flames engulfing his skull. Another fantastic sequence occurs later, when the demon is leaving Blaze's body. A silhouette of the Rider appears in a white void, the skull vomiting up an endless stream of chains. The directors take Ghost Rider's fiery abilities to their logical conclusion. Johnny Blaze explains what happens when he urinates as the Ghost Rider. Some might consider that detail unnecessary or juvenile. I would argue for the opposite. Seeing Ghost Rider piss a stream of flames was absolutely necessary.

This is not the only example of how Neveldine/Taylor embrace the insanity of the character. The early action scenes in the film are delightfully unhinged. In his first appearance, Ghost Rider is dissolving goons into ash with his molten hot chain. After getting shot in the skull, the Rider vomits a stream of molten lead back into his enemy's face. The sequel grants Ghsot Rider a new ability. Any vehicle he pilots is transformed into a hellish contraption. This is taken to its awesome conclusion when Ghost Rider leaps into the cockpit of a massive land mover. Ghost Rider driving a flaming, lava-spewing Bagger 288 was something I didn't know I needed in my life until I saw it. More than the outrageous action, “Spirit of Vengeance” allows the character to casually violate the laws of physics. He gyrates like an interpretive dancer and, in one amazing scene, floats in the air for no damn reason. It's inspired lunacy.

At the center of all this insanity is Nicolas Cage at his most unhinged. The goofy hand motions and quirks shown in the first movie are discarded in favor of totally bent physicality. In the early half of the film, Johnny Blaze attempts to suppress the Rider by downing pills and booze. This allows Cage to be as erratic as possible. In one utterly mind blowing scene, he pins a minor character and threatens to uncage the beast. Cage screams, cackles, sweats, and goes all the way over the top. Assuming you don't mind casting all actorly good taste aside, it's incredibly impressive. When playing the Ghost Rider, Cage's intensely mad performance goes even further. This is not classically good acting. It is, however, incredibly entertaining.

The first “Ghost Rider” did not have first class bad guys. However, Peter Fonda's Mephisto and Wes Bentley's Blackheart served their hammy purposes. One of the biggest ways “Spirit of Vengeance” is weaker than the original is the bad guys. Ciaran Hinds fills in for Fonda, playing the devil's human form. Wearing a set of bizarre contact lens, Hinds sports an implacable accents. Half-way between Southern gentleman and greasy salesman, Hinds' interpretation of the devil is sleazy and off-putting. The secondary adversary is Blackout, an obscure marvel villain with the ability to suck light out of the room. Johnny Whitworth plays the supervillain as a relatively clueless, entirely amoral psycho-for-hire. Whitworth is having fun, especially in an inspired scene where he eats a Twinkie. However, Blackout still strikes the viewer as a villain with a deeply impractical abilities that isn't very intimidating.

The other corners of the supporting cast are more fun though. Idris Elba, in his second Marvel role, enjoys himself as Moreau. Ostensibly a monk, Moreau loves to indulge in booze, motorcycle, and guns. With his goofy French accent, Elba has a very good time playing the perpetually buzzed character. Cult icons Christopher Lambert and Anthony Stewart Head also appear. Sadly, both have fairly small roles, the movie not utilizing either actor. (Lambert does get covered head-to-toe in weird tattoos which is something, I guess.) Fergus Riordan and Violante Placido are servicable as Danny and Nadya but not very memorable.

As a comic book, Ghost Rider obviously operates as a superhero. Yet the character's adventures also belong to the horror genre. The first “Ghost Rider” only made passing nods to the demonic horror that Ghost Rider revolves around. We had some lost souls and spooky demon faces but that was it. “Spirit of Vengeance” blends horror and action a little better. The reoccurring hellfire certainly feels more visceral. Blackout's ability to rot living flesh, reducing people to mummies in seconds, is mildly disturbing. Mostly, the ending features some cultists in black robes, hanging around dark temples and chanting about demonic possession and human sacrifices. Processions of devil worshipers were a pretty big part of seventies horror comics so it's not to see that on-screen.

For all its nutty heights, there are some serious flaws facing “Spirit of Vengeance.” The relationship between Johnny and Danny is clearly meant to be the emotional heart of the film. However, Cage and Riordan don't have much chemistry. The characters are thrown together quickly, never really getting a reason to care about each other. Another issue is what happens in the end of the second act. Johnny Blaze has the demon successfully removed from his body. So, for the next half-hour, we're watching a “Ghost Rider” movie without Ghost Rider. Obviously, Blaze gets his demonic superpowers back before the end. Yet long scenes of Nic Cage creeping around, unable to help much, suck a lot of energy out of the film. That middle section feels much longer than it should.

Maybe the bad reviews both “Ghost Rider” films received effected the box office for the sequel. “Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance” made a little money but grossed considerably less than its predecessor. Nicolas Cage initially expressed interest in a third film but later changed his mind. Eventually, the character's film rights would revert back to Marvel. The studio would then stick a different version of Ghost Rider on that TV show nobody actually watches. You can't exactly call “Spirit of Vengeance” a good film but, for Neveldine/Taylor fans, it does have some stand-out moments. Ultimately, I have to rank both “Ghost Rider” flicks on about the same level. Both are guilty pleasures for totally different reasons. If given more money and more insanity, this “Ghost Rider” could've been amazing. As it is, “Spirit of Vengeance” is about half a lovably loopy action flick, half a routine experience. [Grade: B-] 

Director Report Card: Neveldine/Taylor (2009) Part 2

3. Gamer

“Crank” opened the door for Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor. That film's success made Liongates and Lakeshore Entertainment eager to collaborate with the directors again. The two were given a bigger budget, going towards making a bigger sort of action movie. The result would be “Gamer,” a film that paired them with another big action star of the moment. This would slightly backfire, as the film appeared indistinct from any number of other Gerald Butler features. The result would be a movie that opened to audience indifference, failing to recoup its 50 million dollar budget. Yet some have defended "Gamer," suggesting that the film is worth a second look.

In the near future, a new type of video game has taken the world by storm. Billionaire inventor Ken Castle has introduced a new type of gaming. His first success, “Society,” allowed players to live out their wildest sexual fantasies. His second, “Slayers,” is a brutal first person shooter. The big difference is that the players aren't operating computerized avatars. They are controlling real people. The characters in “Slayers” are criminals on death row, controlled by nanites implanted in their brains. And the most popular slayer is Kable. Yet Kable, real name John Tillman, has a mind and soul. He hopes to survive the game and be reunited with his wife and daughter. When a group of hackers attempt to disrupt Castle's operation, Kable gets his chance to escape.

That Neveldine/Taylor's next movie would be explicitly about video games is fitting. “Crank” was inspired by several video games, combining the free-wheeling chaos of “Grand Theft Auto” with the heart-stopping intensity of “Berzerk.” “Gamer” doesn't merely reference classic video games. Instead, it attempts to deconstruct video game troupes. The film asks the questions: Would your feelings about video games change if they starred real people, instead of digital creations? It's a valid question worth asking, considering the evergreen appeal of ultra-violent video games. Yet “Gamer” doesn't go much deeper than that, assuming a sharp premise is enough.

“Gamer's” vision of the future is fairly implausible. There's no way games like “Slayers” or “Society,” or even the technology that makes them possible, would ever be legal. Yet “Gamer' is prescient in some ways. The player who operates Kable is a seventeen year old kid named Simon. His gaming skills have made him a celebrity, who gets sexual advances from adoring female fans. In 2009, somebody getting this famous for playing a video game seemed unlikely. In 2017, we live in a world where Pewdiepie makes millions of dollars and YouTube “Let's Players” are more influential on young people than most celebrities. That Simon is mostly a simpering bro might be a commentary on the attitudes such a level of fame might bring. Or it could just be how Neveldine and Taylor write most of their characters.

“Gamer's” social commentary is, for the most part, too vague. “Slayers” is shown to be so popular that people watch competitions all over the world, that massive billboards cover skyscrapers. This isn't too far off from reality, considering the worldwide success of “Halo” and “Call of Duty.” Yet “Gamer” never ask why people like intensely violent video games like that. Nor does it question what that says about our culture. Its criticism of how massive corporations take over and direct society is only glanced at. Some of “Gamer's” criticisms are especially shallow. Like how it depicts one avid player of “Society” as a morbidly obese pervert who lives in a dark room, starring at monitors, and rolling around on a Rascal scooter. You'd think the massive popularity of the kinds of video games “Gamer” is poking fun at would dispel such stereotypes.

As social commentary, “Gamer” isn't especially profound. But what about as an action movie? In that regard, “Gamer” seems a little too eager to recreate the grim, gritty, gunmetal world of “Gears of War” and “Modern Warfare.” Gray is the predominant color of “Gamer's” world. The action scenes are oppressively grimy. The movie quickly becomes a series of stern shoot-outs in indistinct, blandly colored environments. We're talking abandoned factories, abandoned warehouses, abandoned city blocks, and an area covered with concrete meridians. If the actions scenes were more interesting, maybe the bland color palette wouldn't be a problem. Instead, the action scenes are overly shaky and difficult to follow.

That so much of “Gamer” is so unpleasant to look at is a bummer. On occasion, the film shows an interesting, colorful side. I mean literally colorful, at times. One scene takes place in a day-glo sex club, with neon colors decorating the nude or semi-nude bodies. Other times, Neveldine/Taylor show the energetic direction that characterized the “Crank” movies. The sequence that introduces us to the “Society” game has the camera drastically spinning around the players. To let us know this world is all about sex, there's even a tracking shot of a big ass shoved into a pair of tiny shorts. The editing is brisk, the images flashing on-screen quickly but with a sense of purpose. It's the best part of the movie.

Another aspect that was crucial to the “Crank” series was its sick sense of humor. Sadly, that's something else that “Gamer” lacks. Occasionally, we get a sliver of humor from Kable's relationship with the kid that controls him or the over-the-top shenanigans of Ken Castle. Mostly, “Gamer” is all doom and gloom... Except for one sequence. Kable's wife works as an actor in Society, allowing players to inflict their sexual fantasies on her. After entering a club, she encounters a character calling himself Rick Rape. That's Milo Ventimiglia in a leather/spandex jumpsuit. Ventimiglia's performance is gloriously over-the-top, as he sweats, screams, and snaps his spandex. The scene is short-lived but so bizarrely sleazy that it lingers in the memory.

Nobody seems to like Gerald Butler's movies but, for some reason, most of them make money hand over fists. Butler has, occasionally, shown a macho charisma that at least hints at a reason for his popularity. There's none of that in “Gamer.” Butler barely speaks for the first half-hour. He mostly just grunts, leaps over objects, and murders his enemies. The character is totally directed by the plot and shows practically no personality. There's pretty much no reason to care about Kable. Butler stares with a psychotic glare but does nothing else to stretch his acting muscles. This is either a brilliant commentary on the intentional lack of personality most FPS protagonist have or a bad performance. I'll let you guess which one it actually is.

If the lead character is a total void, “Gamer” at least presents some entertaining villains. Michael C. Hall appears as Castle. Hall sports a ridiculous Southern accent. However, he hams it up to an amusing degree. Hall's Castle is so obviously evil, a totally amoral businessman that enjoys screwing over the world, that you wonder how the character was ever successful. But it is fun to watch. When it's decided that Kable must die, a slayer without a player is sent after him. Terry Crews fills this part. Crews is great at comedy but he's terrifying in “Gamer.” He's a physically intimidating character, muscled and massive. He casually murders his foes, washing their blood off his hands without thinking about it. Crews' sweaty, determined desire to murder Gerald Butler makes him a villain that seems genuinely dangerous.

There are a number of interesting actors in the supporting parts. Logan Lerman, still best known as Percy Jackson, doesn't sell his redemptive arc very well but is good at playing a snot-nosed asshole. Kyra Sedgwick appears as a hypocritical television interviewer. The character's morality seems to shift from scene to scene but Sedgwick is fittingly oozy as a gladhanding fame-seeker. John Leguizamo has a small role as one of the inmates forced to act as NPCs in the game. Sadly, Leguizamo exits the film before he has a chance to really become interesting. Keith David and Zoe Bell show up for bit parts and are sadly wasted. I like all of these people but can't say the same for Amber Valleta as Kable's wife. Valleta is a little too vacant eyed and shares zero chemistry with Butler. The film should've made Alison Lohamn's resistance fighter his love interest instead, as Lohman is far more interesting in her few scenes than Valleta is in the entire movie.

Once Kable escapes the game, “Gamer” blusters through a series of increasingly uninteresting action sequences. After Butler piles up even more of a body count, it's time for the showdown with the bad guy. What follows is an invigorating sequence where Michael C. Hall dances to “I've Got You Under My Skin,” along with a bunch of mindless drones. Butler then goes insane and brutally dispatches these henchmen with his bare hands. It's an impressively unexpected sequence and would've made a fine climax for the film. Sadly, “Gamer” goes on for about another ten minutes, dragging the audience towards an underwhelming confrontation between bloody hero and psychotic villain. That also, for some reason, involves basketball.

“Gamer” is also less original than it claims to be. Elements are clearly picked from “Rollerball,” “The Running Man,” and “Battle Royale,” all of which are superior films. I'm not sure what you'd blame “Gamer” flopping at the box office on. Maybe the September release date was to blame. Maybe people were sick of Gerald Butler. Or maybe the studio tried to sell a movie critical of video gaming culture to video gamers. Or maybe “Gamer” was just too much of an overly grim snooze to hook even undiscriminating action fans. “Gamer” needed to be either smarter, attacking its targets with a clearer head, or dumber, by embracing the absurdity of its premise. [Grade: C]

Director Report Card: Neveldine/Taylor (2009) Part 1

2. Crank: High Voltage

“Crank” became a surprise critical and commercial success. It rode Jason Statham's star power to nearly 43 million dollars at the box office, a good return against his modest 12 million dollar budget. Moreover, the movie's insane theatrics won fans among regular critics and action movie obsessives. In other words, a sequel made perfect sense... Except for one tiny detail. “Crank” concluded with its lead character dying rather spectacularly. The writer/director duo of Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor did not let this hold them back. Chev Chelios would return from the grave and “Crank: High Voltage” would come to theaters two years after the original. The sequel is surely one of the most off-the-walls mainstream action films ever produced.

The film begins with Chev Chelios' climatic plummet from a helicopter above the streets of Los Angeles. After his body collided with the concrete, a group of Chinese gangsters appear and scrap Chelios off the road. Four months later, he awakens in a Triad laboratory. Chev's seemingly immortal heart has been transplanted into the 100 year old leader of the organization. Inside Chelios' chest is a high-tech robotic heart, whose batteries need to be charged on a regular basis. Chev immediately escapes, reconnects with his girlfriend Eve, attempts to retrieve his heart, crosses paths with old enemies, and goes on another insane rampage.

Neveldine/Taylor scoff at the challenges presented by killing off your main character in the first movie. It takes them about a minute to get Chev Chelios off the pavement. Not long after that, Chevy is back up, moving and killing again. In many ways, “High Voltage” directly copies the formula of the original. Once again, Statham's hero has to obey certain rules if he expects to survive. Last time, it was keeping his adrenaline up. This time, it's keeping his robotic heart charged. The directors used the first film's premise as a structure upon which to hang increasingly outrageous action set pieces. For the sequel, they push the same construction even further. Neveldine/Taylor don't see the reliance on formula as a weakness but as a set-up within which they can do anything.

Something that distinguished that first “Crank” from similar action flicks was its frenetic visual style. “High Voltage” builds on this as well. Different tricks are employed to gift the film with an energy nearly as unstoppable as its protagonist. After getting a jolt from a car battery, the camera spins around Chev in a hectic fashion, emphasizing his speed. Fast motion, slow motion, and jerky editing are utilized throughout. A playful use of subtitles and on-screen text appeared in the first movie. For the sequel, the directors build on that quirk. The gimmick of showing locations on Google Maps makes a big return. Wonky looking subtitles show up, even when a character is speaking English. A perverse idea is visualized by a light bulb literally appearing over someone's head. It all adds up to make “Crank: High Voltage” as crazy visually as it is narratively.

“Crank 2” isn't bigger than the original in one, obvious way. The sequel's budget was seven million dollars more than the first. Which is probably pretty good for a mid-tier action flick but still not much in the world of blockbuster entertainment. “High Voltage” can't be much bigger than its predecessor, so it's crazier. Jason Statham leaps down a parking garage, outpacing a car.  The violence is more explicit. Elbows are cleaved off, nipples are sliced away. A machine gun being fired inside the tight confines of a car results in blood splattering everywhere and the driver's intestines spilling out. A stripper is shot through the breasts, causing her implants to spurt out. It's nasty stuff and would probably veer too far if “Crank 2” wasn't so clearly an over-the-top comedy.

That's right: A comedy. The humor in the first “Crank” rose out of the absurdities of its action movie scenarios. “High Voltage” goes for broke, digging further into the original's over-the-top, offensive humor. Some of this stuff maybe pushes itself too far. The treatment of women – almost exclusively as frequently abused sexual objects – comes off as rather gross. Asians stereotypes are embraced, with a prostitute speaking in broken English and crude name puns. That's the kind of a movie “Crank 2” is. Nothing is off limits. So we get a flamboyantly gay character with “full body Tourettes,” causing him to suddenly gyrate in spasmodic fashions. We see a man's testicles electrocuted on-screen. “High Voltage” even mocks the first “Crank,” when the original's sincere ending is brilliantly deconstructed. You could be offended or you could realize its all exaggerated insanity and laugh along with it.

Helping sell “Crank 2's” edgiest material is Jason Statham's hilarious performance. Statham makes it clear that he'll do anything to sell a gag. When Chev is forced to rub up against random people at the race track to create static electricity, Statham tries to be subtle at first. By the end of the scene, he's dry-humping an old lady. Another fantastic sequence has Chev accosting a pair of men using a shock collar on a dog. Statham deadpans fantastically as he straps the collar on his own neck and verbally abuses the guys. Statham's ability to keep a straight face throughout the craziest situations makes him the perfect leading man for “Crank.” His ability to shrug off the wildest events makes “High Voltage” even funnier than it otherwise would've been. Statham also has a way with gloriously profane dialogue but you probably knew that already.

In the first movie, Amy Smart proved what a good sport she was. “High Voltage” takes her character to even wilder situations and Smart is still willing to play along. She first marches on-screen in nothing but a pair of booty shorts and electrical tape. Not long afterwards, she's left in the backseat of a police car to be pawed out by another stripper. Naturally, “High Voltage” reprises the original's public sex scene. Arguably, it tops it too. Smart and Statham have increasingly gymnastic sex on a race track. The scene concludes with a graphic shot of horse genitalia and Smart getting washed down with a fire hose. All along, Smart remains on the movie's juvenile, insane wavelength.

Probably a portion of the bigger budget went towards grabbing some recognizable names for the supporting cast. Dwight Yoakam and Efren Ramirez return. Yoakam is even more profane than last time, playing Dr. Mills as a skeezy weirdo, medical genius. Ramirez' character also died in the first movie but he returns as an identical twin brother. The character's particular condition allows Ramirez to give an utterly fearless physical performance. Aside from returning cast members, “Crank 2” features a number of cult icons, showing practically as guest stars. Bai Ling gives an entirely absurd performance, playing her demented character to the rafters. David Carradine appears under heavy make-up as “Poon Dong” – yes, really – and seems to relish the opportunity to act so silly. In one of his final screen credits, Corey Haim shows up sporting an amazing mallet. Fittingly, he plays a perfect white trash asshole.

There's a number of lovably insane ideas on display in “Crank 2.” Yet two sequences rise to the surface as especially inspired in their ludicrousness. Chev Chelios spends most of the film's first half chasing the man he believes has his heart, a glorious narrative red herring. After confronting him at a power plant, Chev gets a super dose of electricity. This leads us to a scene that can only be called “The Kaiju Interlude.” Chelios and his enemy appear as giants, wearing rubbery masks exaggerating their facial features. They swing through a miniature set in the clunky fashion familiar to fans of “Ultraman” and Toho movies. Melodramatic music plays on the soundtrack, the film grade even replicating movies from the sixties. And then it's over. There's no reason for this scene to be in the movie other than it's awesome. Which may very well be reason enough.

Amazingly, “High Voltage” tops the foaming-at-the-mouth insanity of the kaiju scene. Only a few minutes later, Chev is not unconscious. What follows is a visual montage of the words “Fuck you, Chelios,” shouted at the audience in different accents and context. This segues into a dream sequence of Chev, as a kid, on a British talk show. (We get another celebrity cameo here, with Geri “Ginger Spice” Halliwell, appearing as Chelios' mom.) That's a clever way to give the audience a peak at the character's back story. It also fits the movie's absurd sense of humor. Just when you think the movie only has offensive humor to provide, it throws a brilliant bit of nonsense like this at the audience.

By the final act, “Crank 2” has reached levels of sublime weirdness. The first movie's villain re-appears in the most surprising manner. We get a shoot-out between Latino gangsters and machine gun wielding leather daddies. It all leads up to Chev Chelios' most extreme act of self-abuse thus far. Yet in his head, he sees a day-glo, sunshine, eighties love ballad paradise. In its final moments, “High Voltage” even breaks the fourth wall. When Chev Chelios, his skin blistering and burning away, gives the audience the middle finger... How can the audience interpret that?  Are Nevldine/Taylor telling the audience to fuck off? Or is it a cynical statement on sequels themselves? Or maybe, as I believe, they're giving typical action movie rules the finger? If there's any movie that tells audience expectations to fuck off, it's this one.

“Crank 2” ends with a sequel hook, promising further adventures for the undying Chev Chelios. Sadly, the box office recipes proved somewhat disappointing. Perhaps “High Voltage” was too spicy a meatball for the normal action movie audience? While I'd obviously loved to see “Crank” become a trilogy, I wonder how Neveldine/Taylor would top a film as unpredictable as this one. Maybe they could drop Chev into some sort of post-apocalyptic world? Anyway, the original is probably fresher and some of part two's humor hasn't aged too well. Yet the sheer number of outrageous ideas on display makes “Crank: High Voltage” another instant cult classic that is massively entertaining. [Grade: A-]