Kelly G.
Entrou em jul. de 1999
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Selos2
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Avaliações54
Classificação de Kelly G.
Look, it was the 70s. Everything had to come alive eventually.
So, here's this TV movie about big gruff workers terrorized by a large bulldozer that's taken on a life of its own after it touches a steely meteor half buried in the ground.
Laugh if you will, but the film at least has the conviction to take itself VERY seriously. A great cast helps, lending the film a tone of square-jawed SOB's who slowly start to reveal their soft, sensitive sides once they start dying.
The dozer itself is treated like the shark in Jaws, as it prowls around their campsite just out of earshot until they try to put a plan together, at which point it roars out of nowhere to squish someone.
As good as Duel? No. Better than The Car? Who knows. I haven't seen that one yet.
And no, I'm not THE Clint Walker.
So, here's this TV movie about big gruff workers terrorized by a large bulldozer that's taken on a life of its own after it touches a steely meteor half buried in the ground.
Laugh if you will, but the film at least has the conviction to take itself VERY seriously. A great cast helps, lending the film a tone of square-jawed SOB's who slowly start to reveal their soft, sensitive sides once they start dying.
The dozer itself is treated like the shark in Jaws, as it prowls around their campsite just out of earshot until they try to put a plan together, at which point it roars out of nowhere to squish someone.
As good as Duel? No. Better than The Car? Who knows. I haven't seen that one yet.
And no, I'm not THE Clint Walker.
OK, there's this serial killer with dry hair who absolutely MUST be nude when he kills.
Why? Leave it to the keen detective skills of Charles Bronson (who acts like every other actor in the film is just there to annoy him while he earns his check) who gives us this trenchant insight: (read in Bronson-voice)..."His Knife is his penis." Or was it, "His Penis is his knife." I can't remember.
The entire second act is a lot of dull cop drama stuff that makes the mistake in thinking we care at all about Bronson's relationship with his daughter, or that we care if his beefcakey partner ever hooks up with her.
Just stick to the opening thirty and the last twenty, which gives you what you want: A lot of naked knifings, bare breasts, and blood spatters.
Consumer Note: At no point in the film is it ever ten to midnight.
Why? Leave it to the keen detective skills of Charles Bronson (who acts like every other actor in the film is just there to annoy him while he earns his check) who gives us this trenchant insight: (read in Bronson-voice)..."His Knife is his penis." Or was it, "His Penis is his knife." I can't remember.
The entire second act is a lot of dull cop drama stuff that makes the mistake in thinking we care at all about Bronson's relationship with his daughter, or that we care if his beefcakey partner ever hooks up with her.
Just stick to the opening thirty and the last twenty, which gives you what you want: A lot of naked knifings, bare breasts, and blood spatters.
Consumer Note: At no point in the film is it ever ten to midnight.
...in a vehicle with no headlights.
Here's the story. In a future time when the government won't let you own private modes of transportation, a former race car driver (Majors) who now has to give commercial lectures on just how great it is in a world with no cars, gets fed up, rebuilds his Porsche, and hits the long abandoned highways to reach "free" California.
A film nowhere near as good as its wonderfully daft premise suggests, the problem with it is that you can tell it's just playing it way too safe. I'm not saying it had to turn into Death Race 3000 or anything, but there are parts where you can tell cuts have been made (the very brief glimpse at some kind of sex club) to get it a PG rating, and, besides one poor old man getting shot in the chest during a raid, the encounters with the government are handled in a pretty silly fashion.
Still, the concept is fun as far as B films go, and when this does allow itself to just be what it wants to be (Major's barrel-chested macho rebel act in the first twenty minutes) it almost gets by.
That Porche is a pretty lousy choice for a cross-country escape too as, again, it has no headlights, no storage compartments for food that I could see, and an open cockpit so he can freeze to death in the mountains.
Here's the story. In a future time when the government won't let you own private modes of transportation, a former race car driver (Majors) who now has to give commercial lectures on just how great it is in a world with no cars, gets fed up, rebuilds his Porsche, and hits the long abandoned highways to reach "free" California.
A film nowhere near as good as its wonderfully daft premise suggests, the problem with it is that you can tell it's just playing it way too safe. I'm not saying it had to turn into Death Race 3000 or anything, but there are parts where you can tell cuts have been made (the very brief glimpse at some kind of sex club) to get it a PG rating, and, besides one poor old man getting shot in the chest during a raid, the encounters with the government are handled in a pretty silly fashion.
Still, the concept is fun as far as B films go, and when this does allow itself to just be what it wants to be (Major's barrel-chested macho rebel act in the first twenty minutes) it almost gets by.
That Porche is a pretty lousy choice for a cross-country escape too as, again, it has no headlights, no storage compartments for food that I could see, and an open cockpit so he can freeze to death in the mountains.