Monday, May 2, 2011

storm in a teacup.

Been asked to review this terrifyingly realistic action flick for the dear Mr. Nick Frame but because his site is very grown-up and actually read by more than six people I've been asked to tone down the mooth shite-ing and laugh now's.

Gonna be a fucking short piece then.

Meteor Storm (2010).
Dir: Tibor Takács.
Cast: Michael Trucco, Kari Matchett, Kirsten Prout, Brett Dier and Emily Holmes. There are obviously a few more folk but I really can't be bothered listing them. What do you think this is? Halliwell's?

Sexy science type Dr. Michelle Lynman (pointy visaged Matchettan of Cube 2 fame) is getting fairly excited about a big meteor shower - sorry, storm -  that's due to light up the skies over San Francisco (expertly played by a bit of Canada), you see she's an expert on space rocks and stuff which may be useful later.

Like all good disaster movie heroines Michelle has a fraught home life, her two 'teenage' kids are visibly the same age as her whilst her husband Tom, a hunk-tastic Harley riding retired air force colonel and current head honcho of San Francisco's Disaster Management Agency (lucky that) is just about to finalise their divorce.

Poor lamb.

"Nope, no mooth shite-ing to see here!"

Anyway, enough clichéd background filler as we're here to see San Fransisco burn and burn it does as the aforementioned pretty lightshow turns into a full scale bombardment throwing large clumps of CGI building and all manner of toy cars heavenward as the poor lowly paid extras scream and point a lot whilst running for cover.

Confused as to why everything is exploding and angry at the fact that Tom didn't pick up the kids as promised (tho' I've no idea where he'd put his saddlebags perhaps?) Michelle heads back to the observatory to run some tests or something as scientists are the want to do in these situations.


Meanwhile her two annoying teens, Kara and Jason (the moon faced Prout and granite chinned Dier) are trapped on the river front as dozens of steaming computer generated turds rain down on them with one even hitting Kara's secret boyfriend in the arse leading to an exciting subplot involving them trying to get a comfy seat to sit on whilst they attempt to get him to hospital.

"I really don't think you should laugh right now".

Michelle is quickly grabbed by the military (which isn't as painful as it sounds) to try and come up with a reason for the bombardment whilst Tom is tailed by two fame hungry news reporters desperate to get the story of the century.

And if that wasn't enough to keep you glued to the settee in a way usually reserved for damp wank tissues there's also Michelle's sister nurse Laura (teevee stalwart, Mrs. Tom Cruise and fictional literary detective Holmes) who's decided to wetly drive around the city helping passers by find comfy chairs to sit in.

Marked for death anyone?

"How'm I gonna explain that to my nan?"

Working out some complex equations and 'hm-ing' a lot, Michelle figures that San Fransisco is now safe and that Denver (fantastically portrayed by Google Maps) is next in line for a computerised kicking.

So imagine her surprise (and the directors relief at not having to find any new locations) when at the designated meteor strike time even more rocks start falling on San Fransisco bay.

Almost as if the city was somehow being targeted.

Scary biscuits.

With time (and budget) running out and even larger bits of brick fast approaching it's up to Michelle to save the city and stop the army blowing shit up whilst Tom rides around aimlessly looking for the kids inbetween shouting at various folk to clear the city whilst standing against various green-screen shots of model buildings.

Will Michelle save the city and maybe the world in time?

Will auntie Laura survive or fall off a collapsing Golden Gate Bridge to sombre soundtrack music?

And will Tom save the kids before saving his marriage?

Well what do you think?


When he burst onto our screens back in 1978 with the almost Lynchian metaphysical music masterpiece Metal Messiah,  Tibor Takács became the darling of the lo-fi indie scene in his adoptive home of Canada (yes you can), his career taking in the lost classic I Madman before hitting the big time with the fantastic The Gate, launching the career of professional sexy man Stephen Dorff along the way.

So who the fuck did he piss off in Hollywood to end up making stuff like Ice Spiders, Mosquito Man and Mega-Snake for sweetie money on the SciFi channel?

Saying that tho' if his IMDB profile is anything to go by it's not affected his earnings that much seeing as he's obviously bought a huge pie shop.

"Don't worry, we'll CGI the phone in later".

Anyway, back to the 'film' (I know but I have to), it might be cliché ridden crap with an effects budget that doesn't even stretch to giving Kari Matchett a properly fitting bra, dialogue that a twelve year old would baulk at writing and acting so wooden I actually got splinters in my eyes but, just like that Gin sodden, overweight,  short skirted girl at the bar you always take home when you're feeling lonely it's a painless and fairly enjoyable to spend an hour and a half.

And is considerably less shameful.

Especially if you take a drink everytime something totally expected happens.
Tho' keep away from spirits as you'll probably die within the first fifteen minutes.

Which when you think about it is exactly what it's like when you take that girl home.
Hopefully his next movie, the Christa Campbell starrer Spiders 3-D will deliver more of the same.

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