Bier de Stone (slavezombie) wrote,
Bier de Stone
slavezombie

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DVD: the devils rejects

Sequels never seem to measure up to the original movie. That's what I've always heard. That, and the book is always better than the film. There's something about this film, that the DVD unravels, which speaks to me in ways only aspiring movie makers might understand. Without revealing too much about the plot (read a wikipedia spoiler), certain mysteries, explaining the hick lifestyle of a murderous family who all seem to wear tighty whitey briefs, aren't answered clearly. One simply hopes never to cross paths with such brutal, merciless killers the way their innocent victims by chance had the misfortune to run into them.

The "making of the film" disc is the otherwise ulterior motive behind the sequel's main attraction. It's fun listening to Bill, Sid and Sheri comment on the various scenes from the special features option, and I am still uncertain if the director leading the documentary footage on the making of Devil's is Rob. He just looks so different from his music videos.

I find myself entranced by the scenes containing Mother Firefly. It's one thing to watch this film for the reason that it might contain another sexy butt footage, quite another to mention the smooth, tattoo free, unblemished skin on Baby's lower back; but the sexual advances made by a character who is well into her sixties is definitely something you might find difficult to overcome. Never mind the cast replacement of Karen Black, whom such a role could not have been performed any better the first time around, I watch the Leslie Easterbrook scenes repeatedly, once with the actor's commentary, again with the director's commentary, until I'm provoked into logging myself into IMDB (or wikipedia) to dislodge the idea that Leslie Easterbrook couldn't possibly be Ann Wedgeworth (Lana Shields of Three's company TV series).

Back then, I'll admit, I thought Jack Tripper must've been gay to have scenes with such a sexually advancing woman like Lana and not reciprocate her advances. Baby continues the family (alluring) tradition quite effectively herself, but because I'm not twenty anymore, her desirous appeal in this role explains much to me about the use of the term Babylon whore in the lyrics for Mannequin by Cradle of filth.

I'm transfixed on the nice teeth and flexible tongue in Mother Firefly's mouth. I'm almost curious to smell her breath, and feel her sweat, but these scene soon ends in total disenchantment. Plus there's a blip in it if you watch the director's commentary.

The songs that are used to accompany some scenes as though leaking out of a window from a teenagers room, car, boombox, head, are fun and different. Although the best use of popular music (as heard inside my head) is best executed in a traditional (old school) way in Halloween, Rob Zombie seems to explore all possible manners of expression here, which, if continued, may earn him a signature style all his own. Zombie even goes on record as criticizing some of the takes for this flick as too "Music video-ish" and caught on camera construing alternate ways of filming the same scene in a different approach to detract from that form of commercialism.

Tags: movies
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