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Priest (2011)

 

 

Priest (2011) is what I had hoped was a movie treatment of Garth Ennis’s Priest. There are several similarities: vampires, a priest with a cross embossed on his forehead, and a tall, unstoppable man with a cowboy hat and slicker who looks suspiciously like the Saint of Killers. But there the resemblance ends. It’s a completely different story.

 

In this universe, Earth has been ravaged by centuries of war between vampires and humans. Humans won by becoming a theocracy: a Catholic-run state that used super-soldier priests to gain the upper hand and push the vamps back into special reserves. Meanwhile, humanity has disappeared behind the walls of fortified religious cities and lives in dystopian squalor. The priests, no longer needed, have become useless and ignored.

 

A horde of vampires attacks a farm outside the cities, killing the parents and kindnapping the daughter. The daughter’s uncle, a priest living in Cathedral City (sector twelve), breaks his vows (which have become nothing more than just obeying the all-powerful monsignors) and leaves the city to rescue his niece.

 

Vampires are a different breed here: more like rejects from the Doom video game – eyeless and larval things that move with the speed of sound. But now they have a half-human, half-vampire priest (he’s the guy who looks like the Saint of Killers) who can walk during the day, and he’s become a vampire Bin Laden, organizing a bloodsucker commuter train through the outside settlements and into Cathedral City. The vampires build massive hives (think of the Doom video game) out of their own slimy secretions (Think Aliens), and they have a Queen who has some sort of royal-jelly-blood that can somehow make super vamp/human hybrids who can really rock a Stetson hat.

 

Priest is of many countless amalgams of horror and Manga. The source is a graphic novel by Min-Woo Hung, and even then, the influences of Manga and horror fragment even more. Many of the great cowboy movies (The Magnificent Seven, and other Spaghetti westerns) take their inspiration from old Samurai movies. In turn, much of modern horror has become a steam-punky smorgasbord of fancy cowboy outfits (here the fancy cowboy outfits are mixed with a priest uniform and the combo works), fancy blades, and somewhat muted martial arts fight scenes, mixed with magic and monsters. The climax is a Great Train Robbery, except with vampires and Matrix-style hand-to-hand battles.

 

Priest is too much ten different movies and genres and not enough its own animal. The concept – a world overtaken by monsters and religion – is solid and workable, but the director got too mixed up in iconography and iconoclasm to let that concept fly.

 

For those wanting a good romp with dark imagery, fighting and monsters (that don’t really resemble vampires), this is the movie for you.  Catholics and filmgoers who want something more, go elsewhere.

 

True Blood: The season Finale

I’m not even sure why I continue watching this show; it’s become that bad, and it’s been that way for at least two seasons. But I keep at it. Every now and then there’s a flash of the old True Blood, and so I still watch.

Sam Merlotte and his shape-shifting girlfriend have been captured by the authority; they escape by changing into flies and flit through the vents. Jason Stackhouse suddenly starts seeing his dead mother and mother, and for some reason that turns him into a vampire-killing Rambo (The show never really explained that). The spirit of the vampire god Lilith has been playing favourites with all the vampire chancellors, and making them kill each other. Alcides the werewolf takes vampire blood to power himself enough to take out the crazed local pack-master.

  And in perhaps the most offensive scene ever filmed for cable, Sheriff Andy Belfleur knocks up a fairy, who then walks into Merlotte’s bar and makes the Sheriff’s girlfriend deliver her quadruplets as she has, like, a zillion deafening birth-orgasms, as the bar’s patrons drink margaritas and make smart-aleck remarks. Just… stop, okay? 

  And the final scene (SPOILERS, obviously)

Bill, after killing Salome (yeah, that one), drinks the entire chalice of the blood of Lilith. He explodes into a shower of blood, appears to die, and then reconstitutes himself from a pool of blood and rises up. He’s covered in gore. Clearly, he’s now super badass, and Eric tells Sookie to run. When Eric looks terrified, you know it’s serious. 

My predictions:

So there’s the outline for True Blood’s next season. With Russell Edgington gone, Bill (or Billith, as you might call him) will now be the big mega bad guy of the season. By the look of things, he will not be affected by stakes, and he may have powers that allow him to be invisible and possibly incorporeal.  He may be impossible to defeat, so much of next season will be Sookie begging him to fight the demon Lilith within him (Sort of like the witch possession plot of last season, come to think of it). Andy Belfleur will be a single dad to four Fairies who will probably grow to adult size within a couple of weeks and will also probably sexually assault unsuspecting men in Bon Temps, Louisiana. Sam will also be a single dad to his girlfriend’s werewolf daughter, as his shifter girlfriend likely died from the strain of imitating Steve Newlin. And Sookie… well, Sookie will keep on causing trouble until someone does us all a favour and kills her.

Look, I show plenty of naked dudes from True Blood, so cut me some slack. Here Jessica Clark as Lilith.

UK Doll Lovers

This is a meet up, someplace in the middle of nowhere, of British lovers of dolls, which are somewhat lifelike and extremely expensive, anatomically accurate dolls. These men have relationships with these dolls: they give them names and have very intense conversations and domestic routines involving these dolls. I’m not sure how much sex is involved; I think it’s more a way of completely controlling a relationship. Oddly, there is one woman in this picture, and I’m not sure how the heck she got there. She doesn’t exactly look like she’s there under duress, but I’ve never heard of a female doll-lover. Not unless someone makes a lifelike Edward Cullen doll, anyway.

This just in: Royal boning

Damn, the royalist in me is squirming, but the gossip slut in me is jumping for joy. Prince Harry of house Windsor got snitched by a young lady who needed a few bucks, and what way than to sell nekkid pics of one of the world’s most eligible blue-bloods. Not only that, but he appears to be boning, or almost boning, a young lady on a pool table. Yowza!

The Dark Knight Shootings: The magic stick

Guns don’t kill people; people kill people.

That’s a common saying. You’re going to hear it a lot for the next few days, thanks to last night’s shooting in Colorado.

But we’ve always had guns. Always. Since we’ve been sentient, we’ve had guns.

When I became a father, I joyfully watched my sons grow up. But I did notice something odd. Whenever a toddler, particularly a male toddler, gets very angry, he screws up his face, raised up his hands, and points his finger angrily at the person he at that moment hates. He’s never heard of guns, and yet there he is, throwing this imaginary energy at his enemy.

I’m willing to bet that prehistoric man, the creature with our brain but with none of our discoveries, had a very fervent wish. There were times when he wished that he could just… do away with the person who bugged the shit out of him. He probably thought this:

  I wish I had a magic stick, and that when Thag bugs me, I can just point it at him, press a button, and then Thag falls down dead as a godamm doornail. The next time Thag takes the best haunch of mammoth, I could strike him dead with my stick. The next time Thag bangs the hottie from the other side of the cave that I had my eye on, I’ll kill him with my magic killing stick. No one will want to mess with me when they know I’ve got my Stick of Killing. How would I go about making one of those? 

But that caveman didn’t discover metallurgy and chemistry, and so he couldn’t make gunpowder, and thus he had to make do with fantasy. We had to wait a few thousand years until we were smart enough to make the killing stick.

We’ve always had guns; we just didn’t always know how to make them.

A victim holds up his own shirt.

So when medical school drop-out James Holmes walked into the premiere of The Dark Knight and started killing people, it was he who did it, not the gun. The gun just made it easier. A lot easier. It allowed him to kill twelve people instead of one. If he didn’t have a way of easily getting a gun, he would have been, like our caveman, left with his idle fantasies. Guns make killing easier. They make people deadly.

If there were other people in the theatre who had weapons and shot back at him, there would have been a firefight. He already had advantages: he used teargas and wore a mask, and he wore a bullet-proof vest. Bullet would have been flying in all directions and more people would have been killed, which happened in Toronto in Scarborough’s Hennesey party that killed two people and wounded dozens, including a baby.

This is what happens when you give the people a Killing Stick. That’s all a gun is – a magical stick that allows you to act out a very human fantasy: to bring death quickly and easily, on a whim.

Take away guns, and you have to work at it. Killing is difficult, and it’s easier just to get along.

    I can’t really put it more simply than this: we shouldn’t have universal access to guns. Or we should; you just have to accept that a lot of people will be killed: sons, daughters, mothers, fathers. Innocent People will have to die in order to ensure your right to bear arms. They die every day already.

Is this okay?

Truth in advertising

I saw this picture and I had to publish it. Perhaps the finest example of market research. Some year ago, a very smart man realized that a fellow sent out to buy diapers will mysteriously buy beer. These people figured out what Fifty Shades of Grey goes with. Saddle up, ladies! nYlRS

Ron Jeremy asked to help trap Magnotta? WTF?

I just saw this piece suddenly appear on the Globe and Mail site.

In response to Lucca Rocco Magnotta’s video in which he kills several kittens with a vacuum cleaner and a python, a group animal rights activists asked Ron Jeremy to help lure Magnotta so he could be arrested for animal cruelty.

It gets more bizarre: Rescue Ink, an activist group out of Queens, used the infamous Playboy Barbie twins ( Sia and Shane Barbi) to ask Jeremy if he would participate.

“It’s like an episode from some TV show. The [guy] comes to the set with lube in one hand and his schmeckle in the other thinking he has a job, and the cops tackle him to the ground.That’s good for the movies. That doesn’t work in real life,” Jeremy said.

He was to contact Magnotta, invite him to a fictitious adult movie set, and then a group of animal activists would leap from the shadows and nail him. An arrest would follow.

But Jeremy, one of the most recognizable adult stars on the planet, got cold feet. He didn’t want to risk getting hurt. This happened a year before Magnotta was charged with the death of Lin Jun, but Jeremy was still leery of  getting mixed up with a kitten killer.

What if he had been caught? History would have been different. Magnotta would be in a US jail, where kitten killers probably don’t do too well.

Here are some pics to put things in perspective:

Sorry folks. But you should know there was a reason why he’s a porn star. Here he is back in the day.

 

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