I have this problem. I really like movies. Really I do. I love watching them and talking about them and thinking about them and reading about them. You know, I really like them. But I have this problem. For some stupid reason, and I know I should know better, I start looking at the business side of movies and it just sucks all the joy out of movies for me. I’m not sure exactly what it is, but once I start looking into budgets and box office and salaries and whatnot, I start fixating on them and then that’s all I see. Then it’s like the last thing I want to do is watch a movie. It never fails.

So I guess starting last June 3^rd, what I really needed to do was figure out how to start enjoying movies again. It wasn’t something I was consciously thinking about, but looking back I think that’s what it was. I didn’t have a plan in mind, but things started to change on or around the afternoon of July 7^th, 2009.

Ain't she cute

Long ago I made this vow to myself, kind of like in Orgazmo when Choda Boy vowed he wouldn’t do Hamster style any more. At some point I decided it just wasn’t important to me to go to a theater to see a movie.  Really, I just had no interest. Then on July 7^th I went on a bender of sorts. I went to the theater five times in three days. I saw Public Enemies, The Hangover, Year One, Bruno, and Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs. For me at least, Ice Age was by far the best of those movies. I can’t say I enjoyed the first two Ice Ages all that much, but the third one was gangbusters. It could have had something to do with Buck really reminding me of my ferret, Mugsy. She’s in heaven now, but I swear Buck must’ve been based on her. Had to be.

By the time those three days were up, I was kind of a drooling idiot from spending so much time in a dark room in front of a giant screen, but I think that started to heal some of the damage done by my Box Office Mojo subscription. Further repair was done in September when I rented [REC] and Inside. They were the first foreign movies I’d seen in a while and they were both very satisfying, for what they were. Then I watched Rambo and it’s like the money-centric demon inside me had been exorcised and I could just enjoy watching movies again. I made fun of The International’s name when it was released, but I was able to let it go and enjoy the movie. I didn’t find Adventureland too disagreeable. I even watched The Proposal and didn’t feel compelled to leave the room. I was back.

Now that I’m comfortable with movies again (I mean I sat through New Moon), I figured it’s time I should start writing about them again. Because I love them. I really do. Happy Anniversary.

I recently treated (some might say subjected) myself to a Living Dead marathon, watching Night of the Living Dead, Dawn of the Dead, Day of the Dead, Land of the Dead, and Diary of the Dead back-to-back-to-back-to-back-to-back. There are worse ways to spend a day.

What struck me the most was that, as the movies progress, Romero starts looking more favorably on the zombies and more cynically toward (living) people.

In Night of the Living Dead, it’s pretty clear that the zombies are evil and need to be killed. The undead are always attacking and the living have to defend themselves. There’s really no middle ground, it’s kill or be killed (or be killed again) for both sides. Romero has always had a cynical streak, as pointed out by the African-American protagonist being shot and killed by a redneck posse at the end of the movie. But at least Romero suggests that the struggle to stay alive is worth it.

Dawn of the Dead (1978) picks up where Night if the Living Dead left off, just transporting us 10 years ahead. All hell is breaking loose and a new band of survivors has taken refuge in a shopping mall. The zombies still attack mindlessly, but often disposing of the undead is more about sport than survival. The living taunt the zombies and pick them off shooting gallery-style. Eventually the little group clears the mall of  zombies and seals all the entrances. It’s a perfect refuge from the undead, but not from the motorcycle gang that forces their way into the mall. The zombies still pose a significant threat, but the marauding bikers are way more dangerous.

Then we jump ahead to Day of the Dead (1985). A small group of scientists and soldiers are trapped in a secure research facility, surrounded on all sides by zombies and may very well be the last living people on Earth. The scientists are experimenting on some zombies they have captured, trying to find a cure for the zombism. The soldiers are there to provide security and relish each opportunity to harass and torture the undead. Maniacal Dr. Logan has made a breakthrough in his private experiment with one zombie, affectionately named Bub, able to curb his zombie instincts and form a bond. But the soldiers, seeing themselves as an authority unto themselves, take control of the facility and show no hesitation to take the lives of their fellow living. It is Bub that eventually kills the soldier in command, the zombie exacting revenge for the evils committed against both the undead and the living.

It’s then 20 years until the next movie, Land of the Dead (2005). The living are now vastly outnumbered by the dead and have managed to secure the city of Pittsburgh from the zombies. Absent any real law and order, a feudal system as taken hold in the city, with a wealthy few, and the masses impoverished. The zombies have learned to stay away from the city, as coming near results in either death (again) or being tormented and used for sport. Although the living are relatively safe and unprovoked by the zombies, they never miss a chance to kill a few just for fun. Then the zombies start showing some signs of intelligence, and the most aware among them makes a zombie call to action- to advance upon the city. As the living are fighting amongst themselves, the zombies are able to breach the city’s security and make their way to the center of the city, where the upper-class lives. After wreaking their zombie justice on the upper-crust, the undead leave the city, allowing most of the population to survive. The zombies don’t want to kill everyone, they just want to live their (after)lives in peace.

Finally Diary of the Dead (2007) takes us back to the beginning, with a first-person account of the zombie outbreak, only set today. The zombies are always on the attack and the living are just defending themselves, same as with Night of the Living Dead, but some of the characters openly ponder whether or not the living deserve to keep on living. When you get down to brass tacks, who’s really the monster? The movie closes with a video of men shooting zombies that have been tied to a tree, with the narrator asking, “Are we worth saving? You tell me.”

Zombies were once something to fear and made a good argument for cremation, but George Romero seems to be suggesting that maybe zombies aren’t so bad. Can a zombie possess intelligence and control it’s craving for living flesh? He seems to think so. It could be that we’re scared of the zombies because they’re gross and different, so we assume they’re bad. If we took the time to get to know them and treat them like equals, maybe there wouldn’t be a zombie apocalypse, just some new, ugly neighbors.

I’m not a big fan of trying to read allegory into movies, so as to what the zombies are meant to represent, I’ll leave that to others. But as far as zombies go, maybe it’s finally time we start thinking of them as an alternative lifestyle rather than the embodiment of evil.

I suppose I’m making a third assumption as well- that you’d believe I hold myself to be a fairly pragmatic person. It may seem there’s a plethora of evidence on this site to the contrary, but my normal course of business is to rely more on logic and reason than emotions. And in situations where the shit has hit the fan, I’d think I’d stay calm and logical without letting dire circumstances rattle me too much.

So if you couldn’t tell, I recently watched The Mist. This in itself was a big deal, since the movie is based on a Stephen King story. Up until The Dark Tower, I was a devoted Constant Reader, but I took deep and serious offense to the afterword of that book and vowed never again to read another thing penned by Stephen King or Richard Bachman. It’s not something I did lightly, having read and currently owning nearly every book he’d written up to that point. I may get into that in another post, but know that I had to consciously make an affirmative decision to watch the movie, I wouldn’t have just happened upon it on HBO and started watching it. And due to the degree I despise Stephen King, I had a bad taste in my mouth before the movie started.

Up to the end, the movie was okay. It was when the small group of people who refused to turn to the religious doom-and-gloom drove out into the mist that I noticed there was still 15 minutes of runtime left, meaning the movie wasn’t going to end like the book. Rather than leave the people hanging in the mist, there was too much time left for something not to happen. When the Landcruiser ran out of gas, my interest perked up. I knew as well as the characters that walking around in the mist meant certain death. They were okay in the confines of the vehicle, but outside they were toast.

Then David started counting the bullets left in the gun, and I really got interested. Whether a movie ends up or down, it seems almost universal that the characters always maintain some sort of positive outlook. No matter the odds, it’s rare to see the main character give up all hope. But when all the people in the Landcruiser shared a glance, you knew the decision they’d all accepted: a bullet in the head was preferable to being eaten alive by whatever nasty creature finds them first. No matter what they chose, death would be the result.

Putting myself in that situation, suicide seems like a very reasonable decision. They could drive no further. There was no refuge within sight. Hungry monsters certainly awaited all around them. They’d gambled and lost and having left the (relative) safety of the grocery store, they were basically living on borrowed time. Everyone accepted it, and I really appreciated that the characters were able to resign themselves to the decision without getting all emotional.

But I still didn’t think it’d happen. It’s just not the way movies end. Characters don’t give up and make a reasonable decision to kill themselves. They may sacrifice their lives, but it’s in a effort to survive. So I was absolutely shocked when David shot everyone, especially his son. Totally floored. I didn’t think the filmmakers, or more likely the studio, would let allow the characters to follow through. Imply it, sure, but actually do it? It was certainly a sad decision, but I felt the right one.

Then when David got out of the truck (lacking a bullet for himself), I expected something to jump out and rip him apart, validating the decision that killing themselves was the only decent choice left. Then what rumbles forth from the mist: a tank. And soldiers. And the mist starts to clear. And everything maybe be alright. And David starts screaming.

That’s when I started to question my own philosophy and wonder if trying to think rationally and logically about every situation is the right course of action. Is it better to make the best decision based on the evidence available, or should you never give up hope, no matter how futile it seems?

Honestly, this movie made me reevaluate the way I think I’d think in that situation. Maybe it’s better to never give up hope. Staying put, the characters in The Mist faced death by dehydration and/or starvation. Outside the truck they would be dead within minutes. But if they’d held onto the tiniest shred of hope and sat there with their fingers crossed, rescue would have been there in minutes.

The mist dissipating soon after David shot everyone may seem a bit obvious, but I was so in tune to the characters’ line of thought that it caught me by total surprise. And because of this otherwise unremarkable movie, my life is changed. In that situation, at minimum I’d really struggle to make that decision. But maybe I’d hold onto hope and resolve to never give up. I look at movies with such a jaded eye anymore that I never really expected one would be able to reach me in this way, make me take a deep look inside myself and ask if there’s something I should do differently. If I was really the person that I wanted to be.

Maybe movies aren’t as heartless and empty as I thought. Maybe they do mean more than money. Maybe they still can do some good in the world.

Getting his start in modeling, Dudikoff was soon able to parlay that into movie roles. Initially getting his start on TV shows like Dallas and Happy Days, he quickly moved on to the big screen. Starting off small, Mike got roles such as Millie’s houseboy in The Black Marble and Boy on bus in I Ought to Be in Pictures. He wasn’t setting the world on fire, yet, but he was getting solid work, three or four roles a year. Eventually the breaks started coming, with roles in big name movies such as TRON, Uncommon Valor, and Bachelor Party.

Then the calendar turned to 1985- Dudikoff’s career, and heck, all of human history, would never be the same. He was cast to play Joe Armstrong in American Ninja. Dudikoff’s affected orphan-cum-martial arts expert finds himself in the Army, stationed in the Philippines. Despite saving the Colonel’s daughter from kidnappers and ninjas, no one seems particularly impressed with the heroics, or maybe they’re alienated by Joe’s detached, loner attitude. [imdb American Ninja]In true 80′s action movie style, Joe is able to finally breakthrough to his fellow soldiers by getting into a big scenery-destroying fight with another fellow soldier (played by Steve James, who we lost too soon and, as usual, out-acts the star). Then things shift into body count mode as the arms dealer and his ninja army get their comeuppance. And the day is saved by the most unlikely of heroes- the American ninja.

That would unfortunately be the high point of Dudikoff’s career. Despite appearing in another 32 movies and three TV shows, he wold never be able to escape the shadow of Joe Armstrong, the American ninja. It’s now been six years since Dudikoff has made a movie. But don’t feel too bad, it looks like he’s doing alright, and he’s still making public appearances. Michael Dudikoff’s legacy will go on, even though his film career looks dead and buried.

He first set his mark in movie history landing the covetous role of Ivan Drago in Rocky IV. [imdb Rocky IV] Drago represented the impregnable, relentless, brutal evil lurking behind the iron curtain. I mean, a whole generation grew up with him as the symbol of the USSR. Even though he lost the fight to Rocky, we all know that was the Hollywood ending- the honest ending would feature Rocky being buried next to Apollo Creed. No one is taking a beating like that from The Giant Blond Killing Machine and living to tell about it, not to mention give a rambling speech about ending the cold war.

After becoming the face of the cold war, he tackled one the most beloved and vital cartoon characters/action figures in history- He-Man. In Masters of the Universe, Lundgren’s He-Man was muscular, stiff, and awkward- exactly like the action figure. It was an award winning film and proved Dolph to be a solid draw at the box office. Highlights over the next few years included The Punisher (Thomas Jane has nothing on him) and Universal Soldier, furthuring showing his mastery of understanding muscular, stiff, and awkward characters.

[imdb Pentathlon]Then in 1993 he made the movie that sent his career in a new and final direction- Pentathlon. If you haven’t seen it, you’re at risk of expiring without seeing one of the truly unique and enjoyable films ever made. That is, if you still have a VCR or want to import the DVD from one of the select few countries where it has been released. Or if you’re lucky enough to catch it on cable, as I was. Lundgren plays Eric Brogar, an Olympic pentathlete who has defected from East Germany to the United States. Once he becomes acclimated to life in the US, he settles in to civilian life, working as a short order cook. The Neo-Nazi, take-over-the-world plot pops up in the third act, but until then Dolph gets to really show his range. And range he has. He’s a depressed short order cook, a happy-go-lucky Olympic trainee, a smitten boyfriend, an action hero, a frightened expatriate, a cowboy (but he really needed to be on a Clydesdale, his feet nearly drag on the ground when he’s riding that little nag)- and that’s all in the same movie. Not only is it a vehicle for Dolph to show his chops, but the movie was way ahead of it’s time, I mean there was a scene where someone (I won’t tell you who) gets served! That wouldn’t reach the national conscience for another decade. If you haven’t seen it, do. I guarantee you’ll wet yourself laughing.

Lundgren’s career has been on a pretty steady course since then, making direct-to-video and made-for-cable movies, the most famous being John Woo’s Blackjack. He’s recently begun writing and directing, as well as starring in, his own movies. If he’s able to begin doing that at this point in his career, there’s no denying he’s doing something right.

For those of you not hip to Dolph’s personal life, he was born in Sweden, got a master’s degree in chemical engineering at the University of Sydney (Australia), and was awarded a Fulbright Scholarship to MIT. He dropped out of MIT to pursue his acting career. He claims to speak (with varying proficiency) seven languages and reportedly has an IQ near 160.

It is truly disgusting that Dolph Lundgren has never gotten the respect he deserves. He’s been in, usually starring in, nearly 40 movies and given us decades of enjoyment, paying some of cinema’s most iconic characters. If you’ve made it this far and still haven’t started appreciating the guy, all I can say is you’re a real piece of work. That is not to be taken as a compliment.