In Scott Cooper’s recent effort Black Mass, Johnny Depp is a gangster with white-blue contacts and make-up that makes him look like a balding clam with a gnarly set of teeth. If a clam were a man, he’d be James “Whitey” Bulger in this film. This man is a clam who likes to say threatening things and kill people just because. He carries guns, but he enjoys the occasional taking of life with ropes and hands, too.
So, you want to make a movie. You want to see a movie go the route you need it to, with your actions influencing the characters and each of their actions through every moment along the way. Well, here’s your chance to choose your own film adventure, right here on Horribly Amazing Films.
I don’t like this smug face, and I’ll tell you why. I know it’s a controversial opinion, believe me, but just hear me out. Try to understand why I think geniuses like Godfrey Ho and Charles Band are so much better than this worthless hack who does nothing but sit in a chair all day probably asking for Italian sandwiches (he looks like a guy I’d see in a deli all the time). I think he could quite feasibly be not only the worst living director, but also the worst in the history of cinema. I think there are perfectly valid reasons, and anybody who thinks differently is likely intellectually and morally inferior.
For this next edition of “Kung Fu Gunk Fu,” I want to ask: Have you ever wanted to see a glacially paced movie wherein a multiracial band of martial arts assassins with no personalities do the bidding of an evil woman, and only a double-digit-IQ police lieutenant and a bland hero with no real ambitions or hope in life can stop them mostly through laziness? If so, Paul Kyriazi’s 1976 classic Death Machines is the film for you.