First Blood (1982)

  I have seen hundreds of movies. I have seen the weird, the obscure, and the independent. Sometimes my taste for the weird leads me to overlook some of the more mainstream fare, sometimes I just miss stuff because of timing. But now, by the grace of God and the glory of Netflix, I can begin to remedy these glaring holes in my film experience.

I have never seen any of the Rambo movies. I know, I know, I was a child of the 80's, how could I have missed all three of them? Well, my friends, I have been to the mountaintop. Last night, I watched First Blood for the very first time.

Holy shit, did I love this movie. I mean, an unhealthy sudden admiration for this movie. Not just because I am a violent little anarchist monkey, but because I could identify, man. I am no stranger to the Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I was in the Army for nearly six years, went to Iraq, got the t-shirt, blah blah blah. Now, before some Internet troll jumps my shit, I'm not comparing my relatively painless encounter to a POW in Vietnam. Not even close. I'm just saying, I understand. I, too, have harbored the desire to start poppin' some caps in well-deserved fools' asses while running around draped in a bandolier of bullets with a grubby bandana. I never would... Mostly because I hate camping, the woods, and dirt. (Yes, I still joined the Army.)

So much of this movie made sense to me. The National Guardsmen all happy because they got to shoot their rocket launcher? Yep. What's the point of having shit that goes boom if you don't get to use it? Even them taking a picture in front of their handiwork. I knew guys just like that! I knew Special Forces guys. None of them looked like Rambo, though. They were either whip-thin rawhide motherfuckers or pot-bellied bearded guys who wouldn't be out of place at a biker rally.

There was so much to love in this movie. Baby David Caruso! Aww! I'm so glad he transferred over to the Miami CSI team. I don't think he had much of a future as a deputy in the Pacific Northwest. Especially considering everyone else who worked there was a card-carrying psychopath. Um, Galt? Hello, therapy.

We cannot ignore the modern morality play inherent within, as well. Sheriff Teasle, in refusing the most basic charity to a poor lost soul on the highway, damns himself to destruction. COL Trautman, as the Voice of God, appeals to him again and again for redemption but he will hear none of it. He is unrepentant in the face of his town getting shot to shit by an angry (so angry) spirit of vengeance, throwing away his chances of ever being elected sheriff next term. He has become the face of Wrath, just like in Se7en, but instead of shooting someone in the face, he gets fucked up by a half-starved, mostly-crazy Medal of Honor winner.

The moral here being: wait for the background check to come in before you spray someone with a firehose and beat them with a billyclub.

I can't wait to watch the second movie!

Conan the Barbarian (1981)

"Conan, what is best in life?"

"To crush your enemies, to see them driven before you, and hear the lamentation of the women!"

I love this movie. I have seen it probably a dozen times. It's a classic. I can think of no better movie to really kick off this blog with.

As I mentioned in my introductory post, I watch my personal movie collection in alphabetical order. I have modified this OCD urge to only watch movies I'm in the mood for as they come up so I'm not watching the exact same things in the same order. Sometimes I just throw on an old favorite while I'm puttering about the house doing chores that are long overdue.

Today, I sat down and really watched Conan the Barbarian after having not seen it in quite a while. What struck me most this particular time was how silent it was. I can't say that I've ever noticed that particular aspect before, but today, I was made aware.

Everyone made a big deal about how there's no spoken dialogue for the first 15 minutes of WALL-E and I'm sure that says something about our society as a whole, that we found a quarter of an hour without talking something noteworthy, but I'd like to point out that there's only a voiceover for the majority of the first half of Conan. Not counting the screams of the dying. After Daddy Dearest's little lecture on the way of steel and being a man, no one speaks a word for almost twenty minutes. It's practically a pantomime show. It reminded me most of the old spaghetti westerns, all jangling score and wide-angle panoramic shots.

I could probably disparage the roles for women in this film: dead, dead, broodmare, slutty sorceress, slutty priestess, slutty brainwashed princess but I'm not gonna because they're not really characters. Even the mom at the beginning is only there to look wide-eyed and pretty while holding a sword in the snow. I love this film for many reasons. Gender equality is not one of them. Mad props to Sandahl Bergman, though, for giving little girls hope at being treated as an equal in the evil-ass-kicking department. She's really the only fully-formed character in the bit. No wonder Conan gifts her with a goose-egg sized ruby, how do you not fall in love just a little with such joie de vivre? "Do you want to live forever?" she cries cheerfully, before throwing herself off the top of a building to avoid pursuit. Oh, Sandahl, you plucky miscreant! You stole our protagonist's heart as well as all the loot lying readily to hand. Her death was such a major thing, it carried over as the plot for the sequel, Conan the Destroyer. Arnie would never have put up with that bratty princess if he didn't think he was going to get some spell to bring Valera back. The fact that it was so much snake oil is our loss as well as his.

Movie Reviews by Lucy

Hello, all, and welcome to Auntie Lucy's review corner! Herein, you will find reviews of all movies under the sun: old movies, new movies, black and white, foreign, good, bad, and fugly. I have zero critical training so don't expect any Ebert-like in-depth analysis. I simply love watching movies and I calls 'em like I sees 'em. If you agree, if you don't agree, feel free to comment below.

A bit of background: I love movies. I love the art of story-telling through a visual medium. I have hundreds of movies in my personal collection, which I watch in alphabetical order (more on that later). I go see movies on the big screen whenever I can and I am an active Netflixer. This is likely where I will find some of the more off-the-wall fare. Everything will be tagged accordingly, and also by whether I liked it, loved it, or wouldn't even feed it to hungry Hobgoblins.

I realize that I am only one person and there is no way that I will be able to review even a tenth of the movies that are out there, but this blog is my way of trying.

I am a 27-year-old woman who lives in the DC area. I have a dog and a cat, and like most crazy pet owners, I include them in more conversations than is healthy. Since they generally don't figure into movie watching, other than as distractions, I will try to keep their involvement to a minimum. I'm really only including knowledge of their existence so nobody will think I'm a total recluse that's glued to a TV. I'm a recluse with pets.