Showing posts with label Graphic Violence. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Graphic Violence. Show all posts

Monday, November 5, 2012

Brian May - Mad Max OST (1979)

I shouldn't have to fill you in on the whole deal with Mad Max. Its a given that its awesome. George Miller's 1979, dystopic classic was burned into my eyeballs at a very young age and from that moment I was obsessed with it.


I'm not going to wax lyrical and blather on about how awesome nearly every aspect of this movie is, if your reading this then you already know. This post deals with the superbly dramatic orchestral score courtesy of Brian May.

First off, its not "that" Brian May, its the Australian Brian May. Well known in his native country for his countless work in TV and film ( he composed the Countdown theme) he is mainly known here at Nothing Left Inside Towers as the musical genius behind Mad Max and its sequel The Road Warrior as well as classics like Road Games, Turkey Shoot and Dr Giggles.

Secondly, this is certainly not driving music. Unless you are on a  single minded mission of revenge then I wouldn't advise driving any distance with this blasting. A mistake I have made on many an occasion.
Mr May's compositions most certainly add a lot to the movie. The combination of sharp bursts of discordant noise and slow rumbling build ups pick out at many of the most stand out scenes. Think of every time the Interceptor comes into shot, they always have a sinister burst of brass instrumentation, every time any of the Toecutter gang get nasty Brain May stabs the mood with a sharp, nasty screech of cello. Even something as small as the opening shots of the Halls Of Justice and the highway with the skull and warning signs is given such brooding menace by the triumphant but evil work of this Australian genius. Please enjoy.












Monday, June 25, 2012

Bernard Herrmann - Taxi Driver OST (1976)



Like most people, I work a pretty shitty job that takes up far too much of my time. Unless your one of the very small ( and depending on your opinion, either lucky or annoyingly smug ) minority that loves your chosen vocation, I can pretty much guarantee that we all think about losing control from time to time.
One such person that did lose control was a man named Travis Bickle. He was a fictional character in the 1976, Martin Scorsese directed motion picture, Taxi Driver. You should all know about it.
The musical score to this great film was handled by this man......


Bernard Herrmann was a highly respected composer within Hollywood. Racking up a stupidly impressive body of work that included much radio work and live orchestration.. He scored nearly all of Hitchcock's films ( including The Birds, which doesn't feature any music. just electronically generated bird sounds) as well as creating the signature music for other classics such as The Day The Earth Stood Still, Fahrenheit 451, Cape Fear and The Bride Wore Black. He worked with Ray Harryhausen on Jason And The Argonauts and The Seventh Voyage Of Sinbad. Composed and conducted the music for Orson Welles original radio broadcast of War Of The Worlds and the stirring and dynamic score for today's post, Taxi Driver. His final work before his death in 1975.
The score for Taxi Driver perfectly compliments Robert De Niro's portrayal of Vietnam vet turned New York cabby, Travis Bickle. The combination of traditional jazz instrumentation and discordant bursts of brass perfectly underpin his slide into psychosis and eventual vigilantism while painting a very dark and grimy view of 1970's New York.


I used to listen to this on a regular basis before work. Now, I don't know if that was really a good thing or not and I am pretty sure a lot of people would argue that it was. The version below is the 1998 reissue. It features all of the music Herrmann recorded for the film as well as a few extra pieces of background music. It also features this little number.......


This is the one I used to listen to the most before work. I hate working.

So hopefully you should enjoy this. Maybe it will help bring change into your work life or work environment, maybe it will just help you scare a few people. Hopefully you will just enjoy it.



"Someday a real rain will come and wash this scum off the streets"





Saturday, April 14, 2012

THE WEEK OF HONG 2: BLOODSPORT 3



Goddamn it, Seth. Why do you put me through this shit? I've been nothing but a friend to you, and how do you repay me? I'll tell you how: By making me sit through not one, but two goddamn Bloodsport sequels, and afterwards, I don't even get the small fucking dignity of forgetting about them altogether--OH NO, I have to actually write about the fucking things, in a way that's supposed to be "engaging" and "interesting". Well fuck you, Seth. Fuck you and the scraggly-ass VHS tape you rode in on.

Now where were we?
Ah yes, Bloodsport 3. The 1997 follow-up to the abysmal 1996 shitfest known as (surprise!) Bloodsport 2 (full-ish review HERE). I guess we might as well get this over with:



So this whole "Week of Hong" was supposed to be about the iconic actor James Hong, but to be honest, his character Sun gets killed off pretty early in this movie, being replaced as a "father-figure"/"master" by the twin team of Pat Morita (conspicuously absent for the majority of Part 2 in spite of his high billing) and a mysterious shaman called "The Judge". So, rather than dissecting Hong's performance in this particular film, I will instead use today's post as a vehicle to express my disgust at mid-90's-sequel-direct-to-video action fare, to further condemn Seth Goodkind and his frivolous journalistic requests, and to call attention to the fact that Bloodsport Fucking Four still lurks like a shadowy specter on the horizon, mocking me from the very pits of Daniel Bernhardt's dead, soulless eyes:

Click for full size and lol @ "The Most Successful Action Franchise Ever!"

This movie is ass. Surprisingly, it is slightly less ass than its predecessor, due mostly to the scene where a bad motherfucker named Beast kicks the shit out of the aforementioned Daniel Bernhardt and also the presence of comedy-dwarf John Rhys-Davies as the main antagonist. But yeah, it's pretty unbearable.
Bloodsport 3 suffers from a bit of an identity crisis: yes, they went and hired that same vaguely-European splits-enthusiast guy to pretend that he's JCVD again, and yes, the plot revolves around another "underground fighting tournament" (he has to sneak in to this one! How chilling!). But Bloodsport 3 ups the yawn factor by trying to incorporate some sort of 007 angle (Bernhadt's "Alex Cardo"--read as "Even Lower Budget Frank Dux"--has to get all dolled up in a white tux and flirt with some chick in a casino), a premise with is both laughable and a little sad. There is no intrigue, no sexual tension. Hell, there isn't even any Don Gibb.

I don't know. I don't even have enough words in my mental arsenal to fully disassemble the Bloodsport sequels and Mr. Seth J.G. Goodkind to the subterranean levels they deserve. But together, they sent me to the very deepest and darkest corners of my own private Hell, and the only way I can even attempt revenge is to suggest that others endure the same pain as I. Please experience Bloodsport 3 in all its glory forthwith:




MORE HONG HERE:

Monday April 9th
Fist of B-List - The Dynamite Brothers
From the Depths of DVD Hell - Big Trouble In Little China

Tuesday April 10th
Direct to Video Connoisseur - South Beach Academy
Lost Video Archive - Teen Lust

Wednesday April 11th
She Blogged By Night - Seventh Sin
Lost Video Archive - Cyber Bandits

Thursday April 12th
Booksteve's Library - China Girl
Lost Video Archive - Gladiator Cop
From the Depths of DVD Hell - Balls of Fury

Friday April 13th
Direct to Video Connoisseur - Caged Fury
Lines That Make Things - The A Team (TV episode)

Saturday April 14th
Illogical Contraption - Bloodsport III
Explosive Action - Ninja III: The Domination
Lost Video Archive - Blade in Hong Kong
Thrilling Days of Yesteryear - Bat Masterson and Checkmate


I made this:

Friday, April 13, 2012

A MESSAGE TO POST-DORITO AMERICA


ATTENTION:

IllCon Radio goes LIVE on FCCFreeRadio.com Studio 1A at 10pm PST this evening. We have an interview with ODERUS FUCKING URUNGUS. We have a special surprise co-host. We have fanny packs and articulated-toe shoes. We have interesting theories about the "Mars Monolith". We have a phone. Call us at (415) 829-2980. Subscribe to (and RATE!) us on iTunes. Shit is about to get real.

FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC!


Obligatory:


Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go rescue the President's daughter... FROM SPACE PRISON!

Monday, April 9, 2012

THE WEEK OF HONG: BLOODSPORT 2

Hong Kong

Chances are, you know longtime Hollywood "character" actor (read as: Asian guy) James Hong as either David Lo Pan in Big Trouble In Little China or Cassandra's Dad in Wayne's World 2. But the man is a prolific icon in the biz, working well over 500 roles in his 50-year-plus career, spanning from the original Godzilla movie in 1956 to Blade Runner to Call of Duty: Black Ops and beyond. Did you know he auditioned for the part of Sulu? It's true, and more than 40 years after losing the part, he faced off against the actor who won the role, George Takei, in an episode of Scooby-Doo! Mystery Incorporated. This is just one in a series of fascinating factoids that make Mr. Hong not only a fan favorite, but a film legend and enigma unto himself.


In the spirit of utter and total Hong-worship, our very own Seth Goodkind (via his excellent blog Lost Video Archive) has instituted the multi-site WEEK OF HONG, in which but a few of the manifold films Mr. Hong has appeared in will be discussed and venerated, starting right here on good ol' IllCon with the mind-blowingly underwhelming Bloodsport 2. Similar activities have been perpetrated by Mr. Goodkind in honor of Linda Blair and Yaphet Kotto, needless to say it is an honor to once again be included in this mindless Uroboros of cinematic masturbation.

So where the fuck do we start with total lack of ideas and inspiration that is Bloodsport 2? I mean, there's just SOOO much to mock and so little time, I guess we just need to hit a couple major bullet points and get the fuck out before it gets depressing. Sound fair? OK.

A) Bloodsport 2 (released in 1996--8 full years after the original) stars NOT A-list action star Jean-Claude Van Damme as you might suspect, but Swiss impostor Daniel Bernhardt, whose laughably accurate JCVD impersonation runs deep enough as to include an innate ability to drop into full splits in any and all situations (see Exhibits A and B).

JCVD: Suffering stoicly the filmic martyrdom that is Bloodsport 2.

Right: Exhibit A.

B) The only actor with the balls (i.e. low account balance) to appear in both Bloodsport and its sequel was one Donald Gibb (read a full IC post on him HERE), who you know not only as lovable sidekick/doofus Ray "Tiny" Jackson but also as lovable villain/doofus Ogre in Revenge of The Nerds. I also saw him playing a Viking in a credit card commercial recently, but such issues are moot in reference to the subject at hand.

C) Mister Miyagi is in this movie for about 2 minutes. He is billed second. (Shades of Ozzy and Gene Simmons in Trick Or Treat?)



Left: Exhibit B.

D) James Hong is the highlight of this dismal cash-in, appearing as Bernhardt's trainer and mentor (PS Bernhardt's character, "Alex Cardo", is NOT in fact a continuation of JCVD's "Frank Dux"--despite the confusing quasi-Eastern-European accent, physical similarities, and aforementioned compulsory splitting). Hong's wizened "Sun" displays all the qualities that made him a star--a sense of dignity and knowledge spiked with a healthy dose of Eastern mystery, a command of his craft and natural grace both powerful and sublime, and an ease on screen to rival the very masters themselves.
But hey, everyone needs to work. Bloodsport 2 stands as an abysmal reminder that even the Gods of Cult Cinema need to pay their bills, and James Hong is no exception.

Brutal, just brutal.

Now watch the whole thing:




MORE HONG HERE:

Monday April 9th
Fist of B-List - The Dynamite Brothers
From the Depths of DVD Hell - Big Trouble In Little China

Tuesday April 10th
Direct to Video Connoisseur - South Beach Academy
Lost Video Archive - Teen Lust

Wednesday April 11th
She Blogged By Night - Seventh Sin
Lost Video Archive - Cyber Bandits

Thursday April 12th
Booksteve's Library - China Girl
Lost Video Archive - Gladiator Cop
From the Depths of DVD Hell - Balls of Fury

Friday April 13th
Direct to Video Connoisseur - Caged Fury
Lines That Make Things - The A Team (TV episode)

Saturday April 14th
Illogical Contraption - Bloodsport III
Explosive Action - Ninja III: The Domination
Lost Video Archive - Blade in Hong Kong

Thursday, March 8, 2012

THE IRON BUTTERFLY CONSPIRACY

Iron Butterfly, mid 70's. Philip Taylor Kramer pictured at far left.

I doubt that anyone with any sort of passing knowledge of music history doesn't know who Iron Butterfly is ("In-A-Gadda-Da-Vidda"?), so I'll hop right into the meat of this story without too much preamble. Let it simply be known that despite the fact that they produced only one hit song, Butterfly has existed in one form or another, on and off, for over 45 years now, experiencing probably double-to-triple as many lineup changes as IllCon stand-bys like Incantation or Napalm Death, all the while completely avoiding record industry trappings like "record sales" or "critical acclaim". They peaked in 1969, my friends, no secret there, but have managed to cling to life, like a horde of burnout zombies, ever since.
Today's story is only tangentially related to the band itself, insofar as it revolves around a dude (Philip Taylor Kramer, pictured above right with the sick pink Warlock) who played bass, sang, and played keyboards for the band for only 3 years (1974-'77), appearing on only two critically-panned albums (Scorching Beauty and Sun And Steel, both released in 1975). Taylor's story is a zany and mysterious one, and one that I was completely unfamiliar with until last week's episode of IllCon Radio (thanks to caller "Floyd from Arkansas" for the tip).

Philip Taylor Kramer's life story is speckled with high weirdness and scientific anomaly, to the point that his stint in Iron Butterfly remains a mere footnote. After his departure from the group, he acquired a degree in aerospace engineering via night school, which he applied to numerous technological adventures in the following two decades. Kramer's abrupt "disappearance" (death? suicide? transdimensional ascension?) in 1995 remains a mystery to this day, surrounded by rumor, conspiracy, and nefarious connotation.

Band photo from another early Kramer project, Gold. Phil is again pictured at far left.

Right: Photo of a skull identified as belonging to Philip Taylor Kramer, discovered in Decker Canyon (near Malibu, CA) in 1999.

After obtaining the aforementioned degree, Phil moved on to several odd pursuits, among them helping the US Defense Department develop a guidance system for their infamous MX Missile series in the 1980's (NOT the Brazilian thrash metal band). He rode the Silicon Wave of the late 80's and early 90's in Southern California, proving himself a pioneer in the fields of both facial recognition systems (see also: BIOMETRICS) and fractal compression (I still don't 100% understand how fractal compression works, but you can start HERE and work your way out).

Eventually (and strangely), he went into business with Randy Jackson (left)--NOT the American Idol judge/former Journey bassist, but brother of our old pal Michael. They formed a company called Total Multimedia, Inc., wherein Phil served as an executive from 1990 until his cessation-to-be in 1995. The company specialized in compression techniques for CD-ROMs (special focus on the previously-mentioned "fractal" offshoot), and their greatest claim to fame was that they "developed the first video compression capable of producing full motion video from a single speed CD-ROM" in 1992.
But Phil had other interests outside of business and CD-ROM compression. He had a burning desire to discredit the theories of one man, an evil tyrant whose ideas haunted Kramer to the bitter end:



Einstein: WHAT A DICK.
Seriously. Let's skip all the biometrics/facial recognition creepiness for a second and get down to the proverbial "brass tacks". Ever heard of a little theory called "special relativity"? I bet you have.

Wikipedia: "(Special relativity) generalizes Galileo's principle of relativity—that all uniform motion is relative, and that there is no absolute and well-defined state of rest (no privileged reference frames)—from mechanics to all the laws of physics, including both the laws of mechanics and of electrodynamics, whatever they may be. Special relativity incorporates the principle that the speed of light is the same for all inertial observers regardless of the state of motion of the source.
This theory has a wide range of consequences which have been experimentally verified, including counter-intuitive ones such as length contraction, time dilation and relativity of simultaneity, contradicting the classical notion that the duration of the time interval between two events is equal for all observers. (On the other hand, it introduces the space-time interval, which is invariant.) Combined with other laws of physics, the two postulates of special relativity predict the equivalence of mass and energy, as expressed in the mass–energy equivalence formula E = mc2, where c is the speed of light in a vacuum. The predictions of special relativity agree well with Newtonian mechanics in their common realm of applicability, specifically in experiments in which all velocities are small compared with the speed of light. Special relativity reveals that c is not just the velocity of a certain phenomenon—namely the propagation of electromagnetic radiation (light)—but rather a fundamental feature of the way space and time are unified as spacetime. One of the consequences of the theory is that it is impossible for any particle that has rest mass to be accelerated to the speed of light.
"

Would YOU trust this guy?

HELL NO. Philip Taylor Kramer, missile-maker, fractal compressor, digital-face-recognizer, and stony-hippie-bass-noodler, wasn't having any of this shit. His life goal was to disprove the theory of special relativity, to develop a "warp drive" via quantum mechanics that would not only negate Einstein's "you can't go faster than the speed of light" bullshit, but also open up the gates of the cosmos. After all, wouldn't the cancellation of "E=mc2" indicate such a possibility? Kramer believed so, but his highly-coveted personal research never had a chance to fall upon the unsuspecting public.

(Anyone else keeping up with CERN's baffling "beyond the speed of light" results over there at the LHC recently? Anyone? No?)

Kramer began getting paranoid about his studies, thinking that perhaps his ambitions about space/time travel might be ruffling some feathers with his previous employers (i.e. The Man). Shit started getting weird. I'll let Wikipedia tell you the rest:

On February 12, 1995 he drove to Los Angeles International Airport to pick up an investor. He spent forty-five minutes at the airport but failed to meet the investor. Kramer did make a flurry of cell phone calls, including one to the police during which Kramer said, "I’m going to kill myself. And I want everyone to know O.J. Simpson is innocent. They did it."
He was never heard from again. This led to a massive search, many news reports, and talk show segments including an episode of
The Oprah Winfrey Show, America's Most Wanted, The Unexplained ("Strange Disappearances," first aired 5/7/2000), and Unsolved Mysteries some years later. An article in Skeptic reported numerous conspiracy theories about his death.
On May 29, 1999, Kramer's Ford Aerostar minivan and skeletal remains were found by photographers looking for old car wrecks to shoot at the bottom of Decker Canyon near Malibu, California. Based on forensic evidence and Kramer's emergency call to the police, authorities ruled his death as a probable suicide committed on the day on which he was last heard.


Cool. Seems pretty tidy. No loose ends to tie up here, folks.

Seriously, if you've SEEN The Naked Gun, you know this guy's innocent.

According to Kramer's family, he had never displayed any sort of self-destructive/suicidal qualities and was, despite his well-founded paranoias, a pretty content and easy-going guy. After all, he was a millionaire.

According to evidence gathered at the scene, he died with 40 cents in his pocket.

Nothing to see here.

Here's the previously-mentioned Unsolved Mysteries segment in its entirety. Warning: the audio is utter shit (turn it up).



More on the Iron Butterfly Conspiracy via Above Top Secret.