Tysto Film Commentaries

Bond is back in number eight, and Moore is playing him for the first time. Everything is different, except that the cars are American again, the dames are American again, and the action is kind of lame again. But—hey—the bad guys are black this time! I mock Felix Leiter and Whisper and condemn Rosie Carver and writer Tom Mankiewicz. I analyze Mr. Big's ruthlessly over-efficient gang machine. I mock Paul McCartney's grammar (but fail to mention how Bond dissed the Beatles in Goldfinger). I compare the film to the earlier entries, to the book, to blaxploitation movies, and to Smokey and the Bandit. I praise Seymour, Kotto, and Moore, but mostly I complain that this just isn't one of the better entries. I take a break from obsessively identifying cars to obsessively differentiating between crocodiles and alligators.

Roger Corman and Eric Roberts team up with a crack team of effects artists to create an incredibly life-like simulation of Eric Roberts and a giant, bullet-proof shark-octopus hybrid which—somehow—gets out of control. It's an age-old story of love and loss, and I watch it for the first time and never, ever, not-even-once compare it to Mega Shark vs Giant Octopus. Watch it with me as I try to piece together the complex story and explore structure, theme, and buckets and buckets of Kensington gore. I sing a little "Sharktopus's Garden", compare it to La Dolce Vita and Jaws, and come up with some ideas (copyright!) for more sea monster movies.

Yul Brynner is a pre-Terminator Terminator that absolutely will not stop until you are dead in Michael Crichton's 1973 pre-Jurassic Park Jurassic Park: Westworld. The Doctor from The Speakeasy is back again as my guest to dismantle the film as a cautionary tale and as an advertisement for guilt-free sex tourism. We ponder the incredible danger inherent in a theme park where people are supposed to get into bar fights and sword fights with robots. We guess at the social hierarchy of technicians. And we speculate as to what would happen if James Brolin was the one in jail and nerdy lawyer Richard Benjamin was trying to get him out.

Happy Halloween! It's the beguiling Isabelle Adjani and the beguiling Klaus Kinski with Hitler himself in Werner Herzog's love letter to FW Murnau— Nosferatu the Vampyre. I compare it to the novel and to Murnau's silent version. And I compare it a bit to Fright Night, The Seventh Seal, and a few others. I mock Harker's high-waisted pants and the self-conscious directorial touches, but overall I love the movie and praise it as much as possible while exploring its foibles. I indulge in some komedy dialog sync and boldly suggest that the film depicts the strongest female protagonist in any vampire film but that it could do with some Hammer-style boobs. Enjoy! Start the movie with the countdown at the very beginning with the mummified babies. Yes: mummified babies.

The Doctor is back again—in stereo! This time, he's hosting me for a look at Steven Spielberg's incredible 1977 masterpiece Close Encounters of the Third Kind. We don't have a cross word to say about the film except perhaps that the aliens seems to act more like raccoons than visitors from another planet. The Doctor and I converse on the UFO phenomenon of the 1970s, Indiana geography, alien biology, Richard Dreyfus's insanity, and Steven Spielberg's belief that aliens and angels are the same thing. We discuss the film as a character piece, as a horror movie with no horror, and as a treatise on communication in general. We discuss the possibility that the aliens are a rock band. And we imagine Lance "Itchy Trigger Finger" Henriksen having a flash-forward to his other films and shooting up the aliens. I forget to make a joke about the Harper Valley PTA (that's where Dreyfus is driving when he has his initial encounter). And we forget to mention that this is the first of our five collaborations where none of t

Bond is back, and Connery is playing him—for one last, tired, somewhat out-of-shape, slightly graying time. The cars are American, the dames are American, the villains are campy, and the action is weak, but it's not so bad. It's got sausage king Jimmy Dean! I follow the threads of a plot where Bond actually does some investigating, albeit one in which he himself overcomplicates things for no reason. I examine Bond's need to put the whole murdered-wife-being-the-result-of-his-own-incompetence thing behind him. And I also examine why M feels the need to be such a jerk to the guy who repeatedly saved Europe from the most wanted man since Hitler. I suggest that what is difficult is not necessarily spectacular and that an elephant that hits a jackpot ought to be able to buy its freedom. I examine the wisdom of creating doubles of yourself when you're holed up in a penthouse you never leave. Also I further explore my theory of Blofeld's secret pathological need to be a philanthropist. I can't remember Denise Rich

Bonjour! Join me as I tackle my first foreign film, the très Français sci fi blockbuster The Fifth Element. It's the heart-warming story of Bruce Willis as a down-on-his-luck cab driver who meets girl of his dreams Milla Jovovich and takes her on a vacation that includes a cruise ship and Egypt (and 'splosions!). She's beautiful, she's young (waaaay younger than him, actually), she's a natural redhead (well, clown orange, actually), she's a perfect being genetically engineered to fight evil, and she dresses like a Cirque du Soleil performer. What more could you ask for? Multipass! I give some background on the movie and why it's so very, very French. I compare it to Heavy Metal, Fright Night, Léon, Blade Runner, other Bruce Willis movies, and other Milla Jovovich movies. I heap praise on Milla and Bruce, as well as on Brion James and Ian Holm. I suggest that David's collection of makeup and women's-wear might indicate that he has hobbies outside the priesthood. I wonder if Zorg is possessed by alien chocolat

Yes, incredibly, I've broken my solemn oath not to do a Star Wars commentary a third time, this time by commentating on the original version of Star Wars from the bonus disk of the slim case boxed set. This is the one you may remember from VHS or laser disk or etched into stone tablets on Mount Olympus. It is the Star Wars. I spend all my time disassembling the story and examining it piece by piece except when I'm making fun of C-3P0 or dismissing Chewbacca. I compare it to The Hidden Fortress, the hero's journey monomyth, King Arthur, Gilgamesh, Greek myths, westerns, and Flash Gordon serials. I attempt to "fix" it—and by doing a lot more than making Greedo shoot first.

I am joined by my padawan nephew "Noron" for a rip-roaring adventure in space with droids and stormtroopers and everything in a commentary for the first (chronologically) of the Star Wars films. Together we contemplate the value of an escape pod that dumps you in the middle of a giant desert, the wisdom of Jawas not to wipe the memories of the droids they find, and the likelihood of a giant aquatic snake getting onto a space station. We try to figure out Darth Vader's rank in relation to the various Moffs and Grand Moffs in this and the next movie, and how Peter Cushing could have been the good guy in old vampire movies when he looks like a vampire in this movie. We mull over the value of droids that can barely walk or roll, have no arms, and can't speak; narrow walkways without railings; and a headset on a wookie that just goes "Aaawr!" One of us laments the loss of Porkins and Biggs, and one of us roots for the death of Biggs. Why? You won't believe the reason.

Bond is back again and Lazenby plays him. Join me as I investigate the one and only appearance of George Lazenby in the role and try to figure out what the hell is going on. I mock the nonsensical missions-that-aren't-missions, gadgets-that-aren't-gadgets, and Blofeld's plan-that-isn't-a-plan that amounts to hypno-zombie debutantes with poison spray bottles. I analyze Blofeld's weird philanthropic tendencies, Tracy's unexplained suicidal tendencies, and her father's henchmen's random homicidal tendencies. And I analyze Bond's cozy relationship with the self-confessed second-biggest crime lord in Europe. I obsessively identify the various cars. I try to imagine a less likely man to pretend to be a homosexual in a skirt and frilly blouse. I try to identify the moment Bond genuinely falls in love. And I try to identify the moment Bond realizes that his sex addiction has allowed a known international terror-extortionist to successfully launch his plan.

Bond is back again and Connery plays him, this time as a humble Japanese fisherman with a "yen" for smoked salmon. (Get it!?) Ah, but the mysterious Osato Corporation has it out for him and will surely do him in if they ever get their miserable act together and if they aren't foiled by a girl. I examine the overall plan of Spectre, the specifics of that plan, the lack of a plan by Bond, and the awesomeness of ninjas and secret volcano lairs. I mock the color-coded uniforms of Blofeld's men, the awkwardness of the gadgets in Aki's sweet Toyota 2000 sports car, the incredible convenience of certain plot twists, and the absurd unlikelihood of building a rocket base in a hollowed-out volcano with no one noticing. The film mocks me by serving up ninjas attacking a rocket base in a hollowed out volcano with no #@*&$ CGI. I mistakenly say that in the novel "Suki" tries to keep Bond and gets pregnant by him, but her name is "Kissy". "Suki" is the original name for film's character "Aki", who doesn't appear in t

JJ Abrams' reboot of the storied Star Trek franchise meets its match in the form of myself and the Doctor from Speakeasy Podcast, in which we deftly pick apart the minor plot inconsistencies, such as every single thing that happens. However, we do love the film (even if it does feel like $150 million dollar fan fiction aimed at lens flare aficionados) so we fawn over the actors and effects and compare it to the original series and movies. But we also expose the ugly specter of racism and alcoholism in Starfleet (speaking of which: take a drink every time someone abandons his post as captain!). Errata: Thruout the film, I stupidly call the Narada the Naruto. Also, grog rations were ended by the British navy in 1970. And the one where Kirk angers Spock with insults is "This Side of Paradise" and not "Shore Leave". (Those are all mine. The Doctor's "facts" are all "true".)

It's still alive! Sherlock Holmes and Dracula meet Bambi and Frankenstein's Monster in the 1939 extension of the Frankenstein mythos. I mock the hilariously bizarre architecture, the ridiculous dart game, the absurd hair (and somewhat suspicious parentage) of little Peter, and the Frankenstein Village board of commerce. I explore the father-son theme and compare it to the previous films and boldly suggest that 47+ years is a long damn time for a monster to be roaming the countryside murdering people without being discovered or getting some kind of name, especially from his decades-long live-in companion. I also suggest that if your town became famous for having a monster roaming around it, you could make a good buck off that if you market it the right way. And I gratuitously, but only momentarily, compare the Frankensteins to the royal family of England.

Kurt Russell and a bunch of "scientists" take on Rob Bottin and Stan Winston in a remake/readaptation of the 1950s monster flick, The Thing From Outer Space. The Doctor, of Speakeasy Commentaries, joins me for a third time—this time in glorious stereophonic sound. We both love the film and heap praise all over it (even on the dog) and yet fail to credit the original author, John W Campbell, Jr. ("Who Goes There") or even the screen adapter, Bill Lancaster. We address such delicate questions as "who gets assimilated when?" "why keep rotting corpses indoors?" and "what's with Doc Copper's nose ring?" as well as marvel at the number of Vietnam-haunted alcoholic pot-smokers that were sent to live in the Antarctic for months at a time with firearms, dynamite, and flame-throwers.

Liam Nissan and Ewan McDonald's use their laser swords to fight crime in the distant future! Natalie Portman and Keira Knightly are twins! Darth Vader wants to know: "Are you an angel?" A slave boy builds a diplomatic interpreter robot to help his mom do the dishes! The Jedi Council stops at nothing sends one Jedi and his apprentice to uncover the rising Sith menace. An aquatic rabbit bumbles thru the entire movie and wins a robot battle! And WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOUR FAAAACE?! I edit Mr Plinkett of Red Letter Media into a commentary and interject my own observations and opinions (thereby breaking my pledge never to do a Star Wars commentary) whenever he runs out of things to rant about. Check out the original brilliantly funny and insightful video review of the film and several other terrific videos.

Nick Nolte is a dirty, drunken jerk of a cop who needs Eddie Murphy's help to find a couple of crazy killers loose in San Francisco. I discuss the role of film as a bridge between 1970s cop movies and 1980s cop movies, place it in context with similar films, and examine the unusual structure. I explore how it fits into director Walter Hill's career as well as Nolte's and Murphy's. I pick apart the police procedural aspects, the weak romantic subplots, and the racial themes.

Robin Williams falls into and out of the jungle world of Jumanji, fights a merciless killer, and realizes what it means to become a man (at least the standing-up-to-your-fears part; not so much the winkie-and-hoo-ha part). Join me as I deconstruct the movie's theme of game-as-rite-of-passage and the Alan vs Van Pelt conflict; plan to make contingency plans for bad special effects if I write a screenplay; and laugh at the slow rhino. I also analyze the minor character roles, pick apart the rule that someone has to roll a 5 or 8 when there's only one player left to roll the dice, and try to think of a reason to bury a really cool box full of something really cool so children can eventually find it.

Robert Downey, Jr. is Tony Stark! Tony Stark is Iron Man! Join me as I join The Doctor from Speakeasy Commentaries for the second time for a transoceanic fan commentary from two ridiculous movie/comic book geeks. The Doctor proves to be more of a comic book geek, as he explains the back story and history of Iron Man in the comic books (the storyline "Demon in a Bottle" is the one where Tony confronts his alcoholism). I prove to be more of the movie and music geek, as I explain the plot of A Christmas Story (Ralphie appears as a scientist) and the connection to Ozzy Osbourne (Ozzy sang for Black Sabbath and did the song "Iron Man"). We discuss Robert Downey, Jr. and Jon Favreau's other work and arrest records. We get off track in a discussion of national health care. The Doctor claims they've never shown Gilligan's Island in England. And I claim to be excited by the prospect of a Scarlet Witch movie. However, we are both very excited by the prospect of Iron Man 2 as well as an Avengers movie, especially with

Michael J Fox leaps into the past in a nuclear-powered Delorean in Steven Spielberg's Robert Zemeckis's 1985 time travel movie to end all time travel movies (except for the two sequels and the cartoon series). I discuss the nature of time travel, point out the links to other films (like 1960's The Time Machine), and blather on at some length about the cars and the history of rock and roll from 1951 to 1955.

Indy is back... uhh... pre-back... back earlier... whatever—in a prequel adventure set one year earlier in Asia, land of mystery and peril! (Before it became the land of cheap toys and tech support.) I compare it to the first and third movies and try to ignore the fourth. I discuss my surprising affection for both Short Round and Willie. I marvel at Lucas and Spielberg's ability to get child torture into a teen adventure film. (The secret: have a child do the torturing!) I deconstruct the episodic nature of the film and reveal the dullness of the middle part where they're just trudging thru jungle, playing cards, and getting slightly scared by animals. I discuss the problem of stacking all the action at the end, which of course is related. And I point out which characters are actually of no real value.