Dollar Video Curator

Joe Don Baker is a hero of a movie star. Why? Well, Joe Don is not afraid to play what he is. With rutty face in various stages of bloat and constant can of beer in hand, he is true to his essence, heroically taking on the lesser role again and again. The handsome starring role, the funny-man lead, or any sympathetic character? You will find none of these in Joe Don’s repertoire. He’ll break every rule without regret, unapologetically leave porn on the couch, and fill those size 40 pants every time, all for the good of the movie. So wave that American flag and settle your fat ass down onto your beer-stained-couch with potato chips between the cushions. Joe Don, we salute you with a triple feature!!!

The Films: Fletch, Cape Fear (1991), Mitchell

Viewing order importance: Mitchell is the finale, always

Fletch
Joe Don stars opposite funny man Chevy Chase as corrupt police Chief Captain Karlin. Who else could play the enemy in a Chevy Chase vehicle? Everyone knows that Chevy is gonna come out on top, but somebody’s got to be the bad guy. There is of course Tim Matheson, but he plays a bigot with two wives, so at least he’s getting something out of the deal. Not a whole lot of screen time here, but in the sparse moments he has, he proves his bad-guy self quickly, by taking away Chevy’s first amendment rights, threatening to kill him if he writes a certain news article, turning on his drug smuggling partner, and posing for a photograph with Tommy Lasorda. Off-screen he puts together the grandest drug smuggling scheme the City of Angels has ever seen. The corrupt police chief goes down every time in such comedic feel-good type films, but no one else could go down with the class of Joe Don. He sayeth, “Dipshit! You go back on that goddamn beach and you won't live to regret it! All right?” All right, Joe Don. All right indeed.

Cape Fear
First off, the man drinks Jim Beam and Pepto Bismol. Mixed together. There is nothing more fucking tough than that. Not to mention how soothing it is.

Second, check these quotes out:
"Think of a gun as an extension of your fist. You’re just reaching out and knockin’ a man down. Boom! Later on, we’ll go out to the woods, and shoot some trees."
AND
“Well, gee golly gosh. I sure am sorry I offended you, you white trash piece of shit.”
Here Joe Don plays a private dick, helping out the Bowden family with intimidation tactics to scary off Mr. Max Cady, and by playing a vital role in household protection services. Well, he doesn’t do a very good job, but does have some pretty great trapping and wounding ideas, like “doing a little hospital job” on someone with “two pieces of pipe and a bicycle chain.” But nothing quite beats wiring every window, door and opening in the house to a teddy bear and sitting and staring at it all night. "If the bear moves a quarter of an inch, I know if the Holy Ghost is sneaking in." Unfortunately the Jim Beam and Pepto slowed his judgment and he gets strangled with a piano wire. May he rest in peace.

Mitchell
Joe Don actually has the starring, name-sake role in Mitchell, an impressive feat for the co-stars of the Dollar Video Curator, which is why the best must be saved for last. Mitchell is a soft-bellied cop with a penchant for not letting the "rules" get in the way of solving a case, and this time he is on the busting end of a drug smuggle gone awry. The first time we see Mitchell he is passed out drunk in the back of a black and white. Under arrest? Ah hell no. Just catching a ride to the crime scene.

Some of the finer points of Mitchell: the slow speed car chase up the Hollywood Hill complete with sweet chase bass, the arguing and yelling at of some kid while on a stakeout, the kicking of an old lady out of her car, followed by that car’s explosion, a chopper dropping a gun down to Mitchell who is involved in a foot chase, followed by a yacht/chopper chase, climaxed by a leap from chopper onto yacht with fist fights, choking, and shootings.

The pièce de résistance however, is the Joe Don/Linda Evans sex scene. Linda is a prostitute, whom Joe Don first seduces by elegantly spilling beer foam on her knee. The scene consists of three repeating shots: one of them kissing, one of the two of them completely covered by, and struggling under, a sheet, and one of their feet rubbing together. These scenes are then edited by using each clip over and over in varying combinations, interrupted only by Mitchell grabbing a sixer of Schlitz with his big toe. Mid-climax we can only imagine. Then he arrests her for soliciting sex. From him.

A memorable exchange:
Linda as Greta: He lays me, then busts me.
Mitchell: Well, she asked me to.
Police Clerk: What, lay her or bust her?
Mitchell: Both!

An American hero, through and through, we celebrate Joe Don for his commitment to playing the man we all want to see. The man we all want to be. The man buying Jim Beam, Pepto and Schlitz from the corner liquor store as he hitches up his pants, winks at that little girly pumping gas across the street, and then peels out on a wet city street, hurrying home to the prostitute who lay upon his hide-a-bed couch in a den littered with empty beer cans, over flowing ashtrays and abandoned TV dinner boxes.

He kicks the apartment door in and things really start to heat up. She bolts upright, startled by the sound, and by the mighty smell of sweat-soaked testosterone, a crusty sheet wrapped around her midsection. He sexily smirks as he removes his strangling neck tie and the 15 pounds of weaponry from the small of his back, the holsters beneath his jacket, and at his ankle. A belt buckle is undone, an ottoman tripped over. A dog barks in the distance as he falls upon her alcohol saturated skin……

Rated XXX, obviously.

Originally posted on:Dollar Video Curator

Lieutenant Harris. Captain Felix Maxwell. Skroeder. Anyway you slice him, GW Bailey is the cop/security guard you love to hate. While each of these films deserves a more thorough examination for their many, many merits, the Curator once again takes time to devote a post to an overlooked co-star: GW Bailey, the embodiment of type-casting at its finest. The classic line, "Do you understand me numb-nuts??!!" in the original Police Academy pretty much nailed his career coffin shut, with Bailey preserved inside, permanently costumed in blue. And who benefits from such predictability in the comedy genre? Why we the viewer, of course! Let us celebrate the co-starring career of the first GW.

The Films: Police Academy, Short Circuit, Mannequin

Viewing order importance: As above. Watch the depth of GW Bailey’s character study deepen, as his rank progressively dives

Police Academy (1984) – GW co-stars as Lt. Harris, and is given the unhappy task of weeding out the undesirables of this year's Police Academy recruits. Preferably, those without johnsons, but every other slacker as well (cue evil laughter). Lines such as, "You people are going to hate my guts for the rest of your lives!” immediately set GW up to be the sorry recipient of most cadets’ jokes. Bailey the actor is many things, but proud he ain't. Here he establishes himself as the drinkin' and unthinkin' man's R. Lee Ermey. What sort of match could he be against suave Mahoney, played by ever dashing Steve Guttenberg? Guttenberg, who can come up with such brilliant schemes as "brown shoe polish on the megaphone mouth piece" and “send the ass-kissers to the fake party at the Gay Biker Bar,” and the old “hide a prostitute in a podium to give someone a blow job” gag? But phase Harris, he does not. He's a tough nut to crack, continuously proving he is willing to be at the literal ass end of any joke for our entertainment, by riding a dirt bike head first into a horse's butthole.

Short Circuit (1986) – As once was not enough punishment, Bailey takes another turn starring opposite Steve Guttenberg. GW first appears right after the Robot Explosion technique extravaganza, unfazed, sour puss and all. The viewer immediately recognizes Skroeder as a potential problem. Big ass security for big ass Nova Labs, he is obviously ALL business and no pleasure, the opposite of Robot Number 5. Indeed, Number 5 is the nemesis of our GW Bailey, though the humiliation here is, deservedly, mostly Guttenberg's.

GW is simply more of a meany here, and less of a joke receptacle. But hate him we do, for how can anyone other than Satan himself want to deny Number 5 his Scientist given rights of Life, Liberty and Pursuit of Input? Why Skroeder of course, who only desires to blow up the clever Number 5 and get on with his life. "This little fart of a robot is beginning to give me the red ass!!” he threatens. He is after all only trying to do his job. And DOES his job, he do, blowing up what he believes to be Number 5. And what’s the thanks he gets? He gets fired! What a pile of horseshit. But that would explain his next role, having been seemingly demoted to Department Store Securing Guard in…..

Mannequin (1987) - Andrew McCarthy and Kim Cattrall notwithstanding, GW is again pretty much on his own against the cool kids, though here he is far more of a kiss ass, certainly less of a bad ass, and mostly just much more of a dumb ass. Bailey as Felix is set on the case to destroy both the flourishing love and career of Andrew “Failed Artist” McCarthy, by the awesomely uber-geeky James Spader, at failing department store Prince & Company. Flourishing love story, that is, as demonstrated by a dancing, costume changing montage interrupted by wildly cliché gay man, further interrupted by Felix.

Mannequin is quite painful to swallow, even for the Curator, who has a film-going stomach coated in Teflon. The most remarkable element of Mannequin is that every single actor in this film seems to be joining GW in creating characters that are the worst parody of the worst role any of them have ever played. And none of them seem to care. Well, far be it from the Curator to judge. At least GW is not alone.

Conclusion: This 1 star trilogy neatly sums up GW’s career in security, in both private and pubic sectors, in a mostly digestible 4 and ½ hours. But do not let the uniform fool you. Look beyond the tough exterior, and see the man who lay beneath. Know your enemy, as it were. Does he not desire love, affection, and peace on earth as we all do? Let us learn from his lasting legacy, and get your worthless ass to the video store and rent this trilogy! Move it Move it Move it Move it!

Originally posted on:Dollar Video Curator

Ever have one of those days? Wake up grumpy, the whole world seems against you, that time clock ticks slowly by, the world seeming bleaker with every second? Well take heart that your life ain’t so bad. The cliché holds that it could be worse. Why, take for example how shitty your life would be if the planet you lived on was completely covered with water, or if life was so bad on the surface of the planet you had to live underground, near the core of the earth? What if you had a tyrannical authority figure with delusions of grandeur to contend with, constantly talking about how great life will be, if ever on dry land, or actually on the earth's surface, or living in a world free from Saddam Hussein? One that constantly promises a better life, a happy future, only to have your hopes dashed with the grinding reality of day to day existence?

Next time you have one of those unexplainably shitty days, dust off the old VCR player and your box scratched VHS versions of Waterworld and The Matrix 2.

Viewing order importance: What do you care? Life sucks either way.

Waterworld

The harsh, harsh Waterworld of Kevin Costner consists of roughin' it on a boat in the middle of the never-ending ocean. He's wrinkled, sun burned and drinkin' his own pee. And also growing fruit with his own pee. And then some other dude steals his pee grown fruit.

Dry land is a myth, and dirt is worth more than gold. It's very dangerous to live in the Waterworld. People are constantly trying to kill each other for reasons unknown. There is also an unexplainable amount of fire on the Waterworld, which doesn't make a lot of sense. Wouldn't it seem the last thing you should have to worry about on the Waterworld is fire? Drowning, sharks, mold, incessantly pruned fingers, yes. Fire? Not so much. And they are all so flippin’ dirty. How can they be so dirty with so much water around? Yes, it's salt water, but one could still wash with it. And everyone has really dry, chapped lips and skanky hair.

Yes, life does indeed suck on the Waterworld. They scavenge trash and drift around on the water, dying of thirst, boredom and starvation, looking to trade their scavenged trash for other trash. Survival is all there really is to this life, but honestly what is the point? Granted, there are still a couple good looking broads here and there, Jeanne Tripplehorn for one, fair barmaid and schlepper of water.

Unfortunately for Kev, Jeanne comes saddled with a child, none other than Tina Majorino (Deb, Napoleon Dynamite). Young Deb apparently has a map to the mythical dry land tattooed on her back, so all sort of baddies are out to get her. Now Kev has to protect the kid as well as himself, if he wants to keep one of the only hot women on all the Waterworld.

And that's pretty much it. Life undoubtedly sucks on the Waterworld.

The Matrix Reloaded

A one word explanation of why life sucks: Zion. The people living outside of the Matrix seem to think that Zion is paradise, but they are obviously suffering from a highly delusional state, induced by extreme lack of anything to do, outside of talk about "how great" everything will be "someday" if the "chosen one" ever bothers to "show the *** up already and put an end to those goddamn machines."

A typical Zionist day:

6:30 am – Wake up stewing in own sweat, give thanks to Oracle for blessed day.

6:45 am – Get dressed in handmade, modern, stylish, white Zion fashions.

7:00 am - Eat highly questionable food stuffs, origination unknown, give thanks to Oracle.

8:00 am - Join prayer group, give thanks to Oracle for the very existence of Morpheous, without whom, all would be lost.

9:00 am – Arrive at Zion mainframe control job, clock in, check out, stare at invisible wall for 3 hours, hoping a ship or two requests access.

12:00 pm – Gather around the “Chosen One’s” place of residence with homemade baked goods. Wait for his arrival. No show.

1:00 pm – Return to Zion mainframe control job, clock in, check out, stare at invisible wall for 4 more hours, secretly wishing for Machine attack to alleviate boredom.

5:00 pm – T.O.I.F! Clock out. Catch word of yet another “awesome” cave party, with VIP guest speaker.

5:30 pm – Arrive home, eat highly questionable food stuffs, origination unknown, give thanks to Oracle.

6:30 pm - Get dressed in cooler, dirty, earth-tone, torn clothes, presumably remade from centuries old other clothes, left-over from those who were there “from the beginning.”

6:45 pm – Carefully arrange dreadlocks

7:00 pm - Join prayer group, give thanks to Oracle for sending the Chosen One, even though the little shit hasn’t really done anything “chosen” yet.

8:00 pm – Arrive at cave party, stewing in own sweat.

9:00 pm – Listen to uninspired speech from Morpheous. Wonder who’s buying this bullshit.

10:00 pm – Sweaty dance party commences, get felt up a lot.

11:00 pm – Offer good looking person of opposite sex your personal “access code” to your own private “mainframe.” Get turned down.

12:00 am – Curfew in Zion. Lucky ones return home for hot cave sex to pounding industrial house music mix. Unlucky ones praise Oracle for another day, and bitterly, restlessly, fall asleep, stewing in own sweat.

Repeat.

There you have it – 2 situations were your life could be much, much worse than it already is. The only thing certain on the Waterworld or in Zion is death. At least you’ve got taxes too. Don’t you feel better now?

Originally posted on:Dollar Video Curator