Derik's Grindhouse Review!

Grindhouse, that is the house of Rodriguez/Tarantino Double Features Planet Terror and Death Proof, is sure to get audiences all across the entire world talking about grindhouse. Sure, the film, a masterpiece, (more on that in a sect), is a new kind of theatrical experience. Sure, audiences might get the feel of Grindhouse. But they don't GET Grindhouse, like I do.

It's like this: I was thinking about Grindhouse, before there was Grindhouse. My Mom saw Blacula, WITH me in the womb. So I was practically there, though I doubt Mom let any rats crawl across her stomach, so that part of the experience I can't speak for (a petition to Miramax to release rats into theatres went unanswered.).

Understand that there used to be theatres all across america called Grindhouses. And this chain bled out new movies every week, shipping them out. People got murdered the audiences were so into these movies. Theatres were torn apart and cum all over. Many grindhouses didn't even use real seats, re stocking lawn chairs every night. I heard one didn't even use floor.

Shaft was the first movie to ever feature a black person not playing a slave, so it was a natural outlet for negro audiences tiring of watching Roots on PBS all the freaking time. But not only black people, there were Kung Fu movies, and hick rape movies, and italian zombie fests.

And while I might not have experienced the theatres first hand, video was there to catch me up every step of the way. Sure, I mean, I saw all the classics Tarantino name-drops here, Dirty Mary Crazy Larry, Vanishing Point, when I was like five. And while I can't ID cars, you best believe I knew the make and models in Tarantino's segment.

I have a Foxy Brown poster on my wall, opposite a quite French Dawn of the Dead poster (eBay = awesome). This means that when my audience didn't laugh at the very-grindhouse esque moments of the picture, I was the only one qualified to laugh for ALL of them. And to think that watching a section of the second disc of Jackie Brown could totally educate them. Philistines.

So, anyways. On to the movie. First of all, Grindhouse isn't a movie. It's an experience. And in true blog-form, I bring you:

My Night At The Grindhouse

Fucking April 4th, 2007. GRINDHOUSE!!! Tarantino's return to the fucking camaera, at last! I'm a huge fan (having the Kill Bill script like three years before it came out), so this was an exciting day for me. More exciting than April 1st, 2005 when Tarantino directed a scene in Sin City. Fuck one scene, this was a hole movie!

So I wake up this morning, not at the usual six of lock, but seven. I need to be well rested. GRINDHOUSE!!! Nothing can stop me, I skip a shower, and get to breakfast. Five eggs, three toast, four sausage, and some Frank N. Berry. My banana goes untouched. I hate those.

So I take Grandma, speeding like she hates it, but, hey: GRINDHOUSE!!! I drop her generial ass off and speed to the record store. I need to rebuy my Pacific Gas & Electric album on CD, as my tape was eaten long ago. So I start cruising, rocking GRINDHOUSE and Taco Bell. Then I parked outside the theatre and waited.

After finishing up the burrito supreme and Grindhouse soundtrack, I decided to camp outside. There were plenty of other Grindhousers there, waiting. I would still be the first in the theatre. I walked up to them, totally ignoring the the line.

"GRINDHOUSE!!!"

Some stupid bird looking dude in a jacket: "What?"

"Grindhouse, man, are you here to see it?"

"No, man."

"Well, what're you here for?"

"Spiderman tickets."

The line cheers at the mention of Spiderman. It appears I was first in line after all. I'm not sure what I was thinking, because I started to chat up Kenny, the guy I pay to wait in line and buy these advanced tickets. Two hours until the theatre opens, four hours until GRINDHOUSE, so I had the time.

Next thing I know, I'm in the theatre. Despite not starting for another hour and a half, I buy my popcorn now so it gets stale and old by the time Grindhouse starts. For the total experience. Now for the real dazzlers. A spare Icee I bought is intentionally spilled upon the floor beneath me. Icee's have a way higher syrup content than your average soda, so it' sure to get my row stickier than the norm. After cleaning up, and a beat of screen scrambles, I can't resist the corn, and I snack. I indulge without prejudice, practically digging my maw deep into the paper bag. I declined napkins - rubbing my hands up and down the seats, I get grease everywhere. If only there were a bum urinating himself, it'd be the ultimate GRINDHOUSE!!!! I continue eating the popcorn, but I stop, so it can get a bit stale before the showing, plus movie theater popcorn flares up my migraine headaches.

Big mistake. Almost an hour until Grindhouse and my temples start flaring up. It feels like a dead ringer, too. The kind which makes you vomit. The air conditioning's not helping either. I start to get woozy, the blurred image of Lindsey Lohan getting even blurrier.

Yep, I'm gonna vom. I race down the steps, hoping to make it to the bathroom in time. Would some idiot steal my popcorn while I was gone? Fuck it. I can't make it, but I barf in the trash can at the edge of the screening hall. After emptying out the morning's breakfast, I look up to see a theatre attendee. A fat fuck, he eyes me sympathetically. I wipe the pink drool from my chin, and look him in the eye:

"You don't clean any of this shit up, comprendre?"

Flinging my arms in the air, I did the Grindhouse chant. He was stunned. People later that night would thank me. So I go back to my seat, suck down my slushee because brain freeze always helps a headache, and eventually doze off.

I wake up just in time for the trailers. Not the fake trailers, STUPID, the real ones. Before the movie. But even before Machete, comprende? Fucking what's coming out?

TRAILER 1: We Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry

Fuckin' A. You can't describe this duo's hilarity in words. I wish I could. A comedy fan's wet dream? We'll see. Opening Day.

TRAILER 2: Some thing with Anthony Hopkins

Anthony Hopkins, cinema genius? Fucking die! I mean this dude can't not just play Hannibal Lector for the rest of his life. Get a life, man.

TRAILER 3: Rob Zombie's Halloween

What, no footage? For fuck sakes, at least let us get a glimpse of Sabretooth tearing it up as the new and true Myers!!!!

Then there was a Transformers trailer, but I put my ear muffs and eye pads on because I want to go in cold.

Then.......

GRINDHOUSE!!!!

Fucking here's where everything got gold. Grindhouse fucking rapes, just like the opening moments where Danny Trejo fucks and Mom AND her daughter. Big pimpin' But te fake trailer that is Machete is merely the foreplay. Cheech Marin as Holy Man with a shotgun is like tweeking my nipples before the big score.

And the double orgasm that is Grindhouse begins with the brilliant Planet Terror! Now normally I'm not a fan of Robert Rodriguez, sans Spy Kids 3-D, which is good for a wank (the girl hit puberty, I think).

So anyways, Planet Terror opens with a bang! LOST's Sayid cutting off balls left and right, because that's what this movie's like. Like a girlfriend that cuts your nuts off, makes you wait a few weeks for some play, then only tantalizes you with a mere dildo. But it's a greased up dildo, and folk like Michael Biehn are along for the ride.

Planet Terror, or PT as we industry types call it, is like a theme park ride with spike dildos waitings for you at the end. Each spike dildo represents a member of the cast, and each is just as sharp. Rodriguez pulled out a rogue's gallery from his ass, smearing his fudge packed cast of awesomeness all over the Grindhouse wall. Michael Biehn, Jeff Fahey, Freddy Rodgriguez, Rose McGowan, Michael Parks, Josh Brolin, Fergie -- all Grindhouse staples. Rodriguez shows he can really throw back to the genre, even including the I-thought-he-was-dead-obscure-to-queers Tom Savini (Savini....is that a Jewish name?).

So anyways, I think Planet Terror was about like these military guys that huff this zombie gas to get them high or something, but it didn't matter. GRINDHOUSE!!!! Things explode and smack your ass like it wants you to sue it. By the time the helicopter started slicing off awesome zombie heads, I was ready to shoot my wad, this movie was that sweet. Not since 300, had I seen this type of hardcore assplay.

So Planet Terror ended, and I had to peeeeee, but fuck it. TRAILERS!

Fake fucking trailers! GRINDHOUSE!!!!!

So first up is Rob Zombie's Werewolf of The SS. Fucking amazing as always! I was sad that we didn't get to see some more of Sherri Moon, however (and her delicious ass-crack, nooch). Plus Nicolas Cage.

Then there is Edgar Wright's Don't. Now I am a fan of Shaun of the Dead like no one else. If we had Grindhouses today, it totalyl would've played, and a threeway with these two movies would be much welcome. However, this trailer sucked. First, as everyone knows British movies never had Grindhouse. So why is this here? Shitty, obnoxious narration.

Then there is Eli Roth's Thanksgiving. Eli Roth couldn't direct his way out a paper bag evewn if the light cones he was using were shaped like a big dong.

So now the the for the most part hacks are out of the way. GRINDHOUSE!!!! DEATH PROOF!!!!

Now, I have been a fan of QT since I was a little teenager, seeing Pulp Fiction opening day. It rocked, my mom hated it.

So, when Death Proof happened, you can imagine I was more disappointed than Godzilla 98, than Star Wars 99. Death Proof is a looooooooooooooong and boring, boring piece of crap about little girls. And then Kurt Russell kills people after ragging on cgi. I mean, what the fuck happened, qt? I thought you lovedm ovies here? I never thought that Robert Rodriguez would top Tarantino, but if PT were the ass dildoing, Death Proof is the vaginal penetration trhat never happened.

Andj ust when you think it's over, he restartst he fucking thing. And we get Death Proof part 2. 1 and a half more hours of bullshit. Then there are some cars, but they don't even crash the ones on the road. Lame. I wanted bodies.

So shuffling out of the theater, QT's obnoxious credits ringing in my ears. I was shattered. I mean, I had forgiven him for Jackie Brown, but this was ridiculous. I had always thought if anyone understood Grindhouse more than me, it'd be QT. I guess not.

Oh, well. There's always Grindhouse 2!!!