The Violent Kind, the Incoherent Kind
I really had high hopes for The Violent Kind to be a movie I truly enjoyed. Local production, lots of violence, exploitation genre, good looking still photos with lots of hot brunettes. So far a multitude of pluses. I have a thing for hot brunettes. In reality however, the movie is an incoherent mess and I came "this close" to walking out on it, which is something I've only done a couple of times in my entire life.
All the sadder because it's not as if the people involved in making the film have no clue- they obviously do, but somewhere along the line they obviously became too enamored with their own vision and failed to seek an outside reality check, which if any movie ever needed one besides Eraserhead it's this one (on a side note, I have never understood why people think Eraserhead is a great film, much less even watchable, because I really think it's a piece of crap- so at least now you know where I'm coming from).
So before I totally tear this to shreds, let me tell you the good stuff. I mentioned hot brunettes and there are plenty of 'em. Lots of product placement for Lagunitas IPA, one of my favorite brews; there's a really great car which I think is a Hudson; and the camera work in this movie is exceptional. That's about all there is on the positive side.
Now, why is this movie a mess? Allow me to count the ways, and I doubt I'll even get to all of them before I grow tired of bitching about it so figure there are another 20 or so stupid things about The Violent Kind I'm not even going to mention.
Note: the comments below contains spoilers revealing the entire plot of the movie. Seriously.
- There is one of those tags letting us know the film opens in Oakland. Really? When you open a movie in Oakland we expect black thugs or pretty scenes of Lake Merritt. Not a bunch of good-looking white guys hanging out in a front yard that actually looks more like Pleasanton or the lower rent areas of Santa Rosa.
- There is never a follow-up location announcement and the story could really take place anywhere, so what's the point of calling out Oakland, especially when it doesn't look like anything is actually taking place there? It may as well be Cleveland.
- Some mean looking white guy named Tim or Tick or whatever (half the dialogue is completely inaudible, mumbled gunk) pulls up in an Escalade and all menacing-like gets in the face of the pretty white guys, who proceed to kick his ass right in the middle of their comfy, suburban street. Oh wow, I guess the tone is set. Two minutes in, max, and I'm thinking "shit, I could be home watching the last disc of "Mad Men, Season 3."
- These good-looking, fake tatted white guys are supposed to be part of tough-ass biker gang. HA HA HA HA- you've got to be fucking kidding me. They look like Abercrombie models. And their women? HA HA HA- they look like they would be fucking Abercrombie models, not bikers.
- An hour into the movie and NOTHING HAS HAPPENED except some weird-ass shit involving a car accident that makes no sense whatsoever.
- An hour and a minute into the movie the one nasty chick is suddenly possessed by some freaky spirit as a result of a car accident, even though the car didn't even crash or hit anything at all. Out of the blue, all of a sudden, she's possessed by the EVIL DEAD!
- The bikers are all pussies. Well really, Cody (what kind of name is that for a biker, especially when he looks like he should have been cast in a Twilight movie) isn't so much a pussy as a sensitive type. WTF?
- All of a sudden someone is walking on the ceiling.
- I repeat, all of a sudden, someone is walking on the ceiling. Sure, she just took a chunk out of someone's neck, just after they started doing it necrophilia-style, but now she's hanging out on the ceiling like Spiderman.
- Can anyone even understand half of the poorly miked mumblelogue?
- Suddenly, Joe Strummer, the closeted gay guy from Mad Men (wearing eyeliner and red socks), and random guy on the bus with a head set show up with two Bettys in tow and proceed to kick the shit out everybody and wrap the Veronicas in Saran Wrap.
- The Bettys chew gum and don't do much else.
- The Veronicas are restrained by the Saran Wrap.
- The ceiling-walking chick is now about to give birth to Joe Strummer's queen, which has some obvious portent for who-the-fuck-knows-what because not a whit of this shit makes sense.
- Joe Strummer, weighing all of 120 lbs and wearing a pompadour that would get his ass kicked in almost any bar in America, proceeds to kick the shit of everybody.
- Joe Strummer is invincible. You can shoot him, you bruise him, but you'll still have to listen to his whiny faux Brixton bullshit.
- Out of nowhere, Joe, Mad Men gay guy, bus dude and the Bettys are transformed into Poltergeists. Or some stupid original Battlestar Galactica junk happens. I have no idea at this point and I really don't care..
- Uber-hot, sensitive Veronica lives, while the even hotter Veronica gets her throat sliced while restrained in Saran Wrap.
- Ceiling-walking, throat-munching girl is laid out naked on the coffee table. She has a pretty decent Brazilian wax job, even though she's bloodied from head to toe.
- Speaking of the coffee table, this all supposedly takes place in a legendary biker farmhouse- and yet there are portraits of preppy-looking guys in suits and bow ties on the walls all over the house. The nature of this particular gang of suits is never explained. But then again, nothing else is either.
- Ass-kicking bikers drink PBR? Me thinks not.
- Joe Strummer gives the still-living Veronica and sensitive Cody the keys to his Hudson and wishes them well before the apocalypse begins, which is about to start at any moment and woe to them, but at least they have a nice ride.
- The space ship from District 13 shows up over Santa Rosa. The rapture begins. Seriously. At least that's how I undestood it.
- The End. Roll credits. Cue rockabilly music in place of Bach.
- An hour and a half of my life has passed. I will never get it back.
Sorry Butcher Bros- major FAIL. Next time, just film yourselves Cassavetes-style sitting around the Nite Cap after doing a bunch of meth, talking through the ideas for your next movie, then let the cameras follow as you beat the shit out of the silly-ass moped gang that hangs out there. Now that would be entertainment!
Luckily for you, dear reader, Another Hole in the Head only scheduled this stinker once and you likely missed it- though there was inexplicably a fair amount of applause from the audience when it ended. I suspect the Butcher Bros had all their relatives in attendance.
Mark Rudio