In 1993 a movie titled CB4 starring Chris Rock was released. A parody of the “gangsta rap” phenomenon of the 90s it was met with mediocre reviews and went on to gross 17 million dollars domestically. A little over one year later another movie in the same vein appeared. Written, directed, and co-starring one Rusty Cundieff it was released to critical acclaim and went on to make a total of $238,000.00. In other words, like many good movies, no one saw it.
If you, dear reader, are one of the many who have not seen Fear of a Black Hat the FAM is giving you an opportunity right now to remedy this situation. Filmed in the mockumentary style popularized by Rob Reiner’s This is Spinal Tap, Fear of a Black Hat treats its subject as a real entity; and the members of N.W.H. (Niggaz With Hats) — Ice Cold, Tasty Taste, and Tone Def — go about the business of being a headwear-centric rap trio as they normally would under the gaze of sociologist Nina Blackburn’s camera.
What ensues is an almost pitch-perfect satirical time capsule of early 90s hip-hop. References abound from the internal feuding of N.W.A., to the ubiquitous “Ice” moniker and the hippy weirdness of P.M Dawn. Cundieff manages to tick off an entire checklist of well-worn rap tropes with hilarious consistency. It’s a movie that never fails to make me laugh, no matter how many times I see it. Rather than running the risk of talking this film up too much, I will simply leave you with one of my favorite exchanges, in which the boys explain just what N.W.H. is all about:
Nina Blackburn: So, guys, what’s the deal with the hats?
Ice Cold: That’s what NWH is all about. We got a whole hat philosophy, you know what I’m saying? I mean, see, back in the days when there was slaves and stuff, they would work in the hot sun all day, you know, with the sun beating down them. Hatless. I mean, not even a babushka.
Tone Def: Word. Heads totally exposed to the sun.
Ice Cold: You know, so by the time they got back to the plantation from being in all the heat, they was too tired to rebel against their masters, right? So what we saying with Niggaz With Hats is, “Yo, we got some hats now, muh-fuckers.”
A simple piece of music animation from Renaud Hallée in which notes and the time between them are represented in various forms. Abstract but extremely effective it’s as fun to count along as the seconds spin by as it is to simply listen to.
Credence was given to the supposition that Werner Herzog, or someone who may sound only somewhat like Werner Herzog, can add tremendous weight to even the most mundane and innocent of children’s tales; his intonation imbuing the words with a profound sense of existential navel-gazing.
Ramin Bahrani understands this all to well and therefore enlisted the talent of Mr. Herzog to give voice to the titular protagonist of his short film, Plastic Bag; a film described thus:
Struggling with its immortality, a discarded plastic bag ventures through the environmentally barren remains of America as it searches for its maker.
I like to imagine that whenever a script like this arrives at his mountain-top fortress, he reads the script and, upon finishing it, bolts upright. Standing there, arms akimbo, he exclaims “This is a job for…WERNER HERZOG!” to the chagrin of his ever-faithful manservant who can do nothing but go ready the Herzogmobile.
If hundreds of pages of Philip K. Dick have taught me anything it’s that in the inevitable overpopulated, smoggy, and rain soaked future advertising will be everywhere. Surrounded by it, we will be assaulted by high-tech neon shillery to the point of utter desensitization. Advertisers will have to think up increasingly invasive ways to grab the attention of eyeballs shielded by shiny, all-weather sunglasses and absurd personal computer visors. Short of implanting the desire for a particular product directly into our cerebellums with a biochemical cocktail delivered by evil looking needles, they will no doubt turn to something akin to what is on display here in this video by Scott Amron.
Bypassing the optic route all together, Amron advocates a more tactile approach; his beverage container swelling with protuberances in an allergic reaction to hot liquid, pushing their tumescent ridges into the palm of the purchaser’s hand, creasing it with ad-man braille. Coffee clenched in hand it is all you can do to keep from shrieking as it gropes you. Unable to tear you away from the horrid alien porn displayed on your visor screen while you wait for the bus the next step is no doubt to simply envelop your extremity and forcibly drag you away to some previously unknown destination to buy jeans.
While it must be said that all actors start somewhere it must also be said that some start lower than others. Sonny Chiba, before starring in the martial arts films that would bring him international success, was no different taking roles in scores of what can only be described as truly terrible films. This is not to say that his output since then has been of stellar quality and one could say that he never quite graduated from the B-movies of his youth but then one might risk Sonny Chiba punching one in the face so hard that one’s eyeballs exit explosively from one’s colon.
Today, the FAM takes a look at one of those early films, Invasion of the Neptune Men from 1961; a title that simply screams B-movie. The then 22-year-old Chiba plays one Shinichi Tachibana, a mild-mannered astronomer, who in actuality is the superhero Iron-Sharp, or Space Chief as he is called in the English dub. When mysterious metal aliens arrive to invade Earth, it’s up to Iron-Sharp/Space Chief to stop them.
It’s standard, ’60s era sci-fi/superhero fare with the distinct advantage as being a pretty awful example of the genre. With a kitsch factor this high it was no surprise that it was featured on the cult television series Mystery Science Theater 3000 in 1997. Indeed the movie was so bad that it almost succeeded in fulfilling the plans of Dr. Clayton Forrester to drive Mike Nelson, Tom Servo, and Crow insane. They are only saved by a surprise visit from characters from the 1958 Japanese television series Planet Prince. The movie received fairly harsh treatment from the three, including one off-color moment in which they refer to Chiba’s character as “Space Dink”. The MST3K version also omits footage of the destruction of Tokyo which was actual World War II bombing footage — the writers’s feelings being that it had no place in a kids’s movie.
Regardless of such questions of taste, Invasion of the Neptune Men remains a prime example of ’60s era, Japanese cinema awfulness; a must watch for anyone looking to expand their knowledge beyond the likes of Godzilla.
I realize that this demo reel from Hybrid Medical Animation may only appeal to me. As a child if I was sick I would often visualize the goings on within my body as some sort of protracted war; a campaign waged around and within the machinery responsible for the operation of the various divisions of my physical person. Even now, ask as what some would call an adult and what others would call a drooling man-child, buy cialis I still fall back upon these simplistic representations when feeling feverish. Hybrid, pills of course, represents the internal mechanisms of the human body as close to their reality but still, when viewed from a macroscopic perspective, they swiftly recall those childhood visions.
FilmCow, buy creators of such classics as “Charlie the Unicorn” present the story of a depressed whale and the fish who tries to help him. What ensues is a vicious cycle of victimization and one-upmanship; a harrowing look at the nature of survival in the briny depths of our oceans.
It’s one of those Fridays. Nothing going on; nothing doing. Sitting at your desk, playing FreeCell, only stopping to see how far the hands on the clock have progressed. Then to see if the clock is slower than your computer. Then to check your watch, just to be sure. Maybe they’re all wrong; better check your phone. Damn.
Well, as a personal service to you, please allow the FAM to distract you for a number of minutes. Don’t worry, you can always go back to FreeCell. In the meantime let us present to you three of the animated shorts nominated for Academy Awards this year. Yes, I realize that the Academy Awards have already been handed out, thereby robbing these of a modicum of suspense, but I’m sure you’ll survive.
First up is Fabrice O. Joubert’s French Roast, the story of a less than agreeable gentleman who seems to have left his wallet in his other trousers. And just what is the deal with that nun?
Next is Granny O’Grimm’s Sleeping Beauty, directed by Nicky Phelan. It is perhaps best to not let a bitter, elderly woman read fairy tales. She may very well color the story with her own, distinct outlook.
Thirdly: Javier Recio Gracia’s The Lady and the Reaper, the story of a young doctor’s battle with Death over the fate of an elderly woman whose only wish is to be reunited with her departed husband. It’s a fate that she alone will decide.
And lastly we have Logorama directed by François Alaux, Herve de Crecy, and Ludovic Houplain. Police drama! In Los Angeles! A Los Angeles comprised of corporate logos! Will the Michelin Men be able to apprehend Ronald McDonald or will an earthquake kill them all!? Watch and see!
And so today’s FAM draws to a close. For those of you wondering, the fifth and final nominee was Wallace and Gromit: A Matter of Loaf or Death from Nick Park which is not on YouTube because the BBC have just a few more lawyers than these other guys. The award this year went to Logorama.
In a earlier, simpler time I would describe Ron Pippin’s work as “steampunk” for featuring as it does, bits and baubles comprised of brass and glass, replete with olde looking labels. No! That is wrong. We don’t do that anymore.
That said, Pippin’s work is bad-ass, featuring as it does evil looking machinery bonded to animals, turning them into bizarre and beautiful biomechanoids; cyborg mammals found wandering through steel forests. His portfolio also happens to feature a fair number of complex and mysterious specimen boxes which one can never have too many of.
Nature is a cruel, twisted bitch; the overseer of a vast menagerie of strange and awful things. These creatures were put on this Earth to inhabit our nightmares. Witness then, the horrible distended jaws of the appropriately named Slingjaw Wrasse, filmed in excruciating slow motion so that one may fully appreciate the powerful thrust of this fish’s disgusting (or, perhaps, just lazy?) eating habits. Yes, for now they are feeding on insects, but it is only a matter of time (or a matter of a massive dose of radiation) before they develop a taste for the human brain. Evolution will take care of the rest, no doubt bestowing upon them appendages not unlike our own legs, allowing them to walk upon the land — looking every bit like a Hieronymus Bosch creation come to life — if only for long enough to crack open the soft, eggshell-like skull of a child and slurp out its contents like so much jelly. Mark my words: The time is nigh; best to wipe them out while they can only swim!
