By Chelsea Spear
In 1998, Alex Proyas’s Dark City saw a quiet theatrical release, and an even quieter end to its engagement. In the years since it was dismissed and disinterred to home video, filmmaker Joss Whedon and Roger Ebert, dean of American film critics, have found inspiration in the expressionistic, dystopian feature. Andy Herod of acclaimed indie band The Comas cited the film as “the only movie that makes sense or matters.” It has become a fetish object for slavering fanboys and Ebert acolytes. A decade later, it has all but been inducted into the neo-noir cannon. Ebert has recorded a commentary track for the deluxe edition DVD. Fans discuss the news of a sequel in hushed, reverent tones.
It is quite possibly the most overrated film of the 1990s.
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By Chelsea Spear
Working as a production assistant on a low-budget movie teaches and rewards the novice cineaste in ways that might not immediately pay off. One of the most enduring lessons I learned during my internship involved an archaic slab of film technology. While the film’s director was working on color correction, I frequently almost-spotted the image of a woman’s face at the start and end of a reel.
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By Jemiah Jefferson

It was with great sadness that I read about the passing of Rudy Ray Moore, one of the most influential, offensive, brilliant cultural voices of the 20th century. I don’t believe that I exaggerate when I say that. His uniquely out-there perspectives, voice, and performance can be heard imitated and sampled in countless examples from hip-hop and Tarantino; his films are classics of the “completely ridiculous, hilarious, independent cult curiosity” genre. The term “blaxploitation” is a catch-all for movies and culture with a lot of black people acting the fool, shooting folks, acting violent and crazy, dressing loudly, pimping, revenging; the films of Rudy Ray Moore transcend and encapsulate everything about them, but in a way that no one else dares to do. I’ve got a special place in my heart for RRM, if for nothing else than because he is the centerpiece of one of the few films that I just couldn’t get through on the first try. That film was Dolemite.
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By Michelle Patterson

La belle et la bête, 1946
I had what I thought to be the perfect metaphor for this article series. It started out well enough and soon became an epic flowchart in the grand tradition of Barney Stinson (Neil Patrick Harris on How I Met Your Mother), complete with elaborate examples and explanations, some even color-coded, and most of them flimsy enough to fall apart upon closer examination. Then, it started to become creepier and more in poor taste. It just made me too uncomfortable to continue. Finally the thought hit me that the exercise itself—trying to find the ultimate way to explain just why and how remakes are usually not a good idea at all and leave you feeling devastated and empty—had actually turned into the real metaphor I was looking for. This was followed by the realization that the explanation of the explanation had become just what I needed: a way to prove why remakes are mostly bad, sometimes good, but usually ugly. I’ll start and maybe you’ll understand what I mean.
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By Emily C.
5. Spinal Tap does jazz fusion (from This is Spinal Tap)
“On the bass. . . Derek Smalls. . . he wrote this. . . “
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By Kaye Telle
Say what you will about the eighties, but the explosion of music videos and competition with new cable stations made for some good television. Growing up in the midwest (pre-alternative rock) one felt completely isolated if they didn’t take a Journey to the river Styx on the R.E.O. Speedwagon. Looking back I can only chuckle at my gumption in pointlessly arguing the merits of Devo’s cover of “Satisfaction.” But alone with the TV after school, there were these crazy kids in California who understood. I can remember looking at the clock while snapping my watermelon Bubble Yum during school, ticking down the minutes until I could go home and watch my compatriots on MV3. Late at night and into the early morning hours on weekends, strange short films and more music beamed over the wires via a show on the USA Network called Night Flight. And I thought: I am not alone. An awful lot of cool things happened in that decade—and many of them happened on the boob tube.
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By Noreen Sobczyk
In the 50s and 60s, the word “teenager” had long been part of the American lexicon, but it wasn’t until rock and roll came along that the generation gap began to widen exponentially. Music was a major delineating factor separating the generations, and as teenage culture began to blossom, a target marketing audience was born. Rock and roll was all the rage and some films caught a ride on the teen bandwagon via the medium of music. Who can forget Elvis cashing in on his fame with some of his similarly-plotted films?
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Screencap by megacaps
If you’ve never seen Tuff Turf, the 1985 film starring James Spader and Kim Richards, then this list of reasons I’ve watched the movie over 100 times might pique your curiosity and prompt you to watch it. Maybe not over 100 times, but at least once. If you have seen the movie, this list will probably be at best, comical, and at worst, puzzling. Hopefully, however, this list will explain why I was thrilled when this movie was released on a (markedly bare bones) DVD a few years back. It meant that my original, recorded-from-HBO VHS tape could finally get a break.

Misfit youths who happened to catch a late night airing of Ladies and Gentlemen, The Fabulous Stains have been rubbing their magic lamps for years, fully willing to trade one wish for a good quality copy of this film. Now the wait is over, thanks to the folks at Rhino who’ve released it as the debut title in their Rock ‘N’ Roll Cinema Series.
By Less Lee Moore
Being a tremendous fan of things Halloween- and horror-related, I look forward to the Rue Morgue Festival of Fear each year at the Toronto FanExpo. It’s a genuine thrill for me to look at original artwork, drool over horror movie posters, create my ongoing DVD wish list at the Anchor Bay store, and watch people wander around in costume.
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