From the twisted minds of BB Ben and Sailor Monsoon comes a new collaborative review series called Double Impact! For these opinion pieces, we watch a film, discuss it, and then Sailor turns our drunken conversations into something legible and entertaining!
There is no rhyme or reason to the movie selection process, but don’t be surprised if we lean heavily on garbage action films (that’s right, Chuck Norris, the meme stops here).
Strap in, Exiles.
This is–Double Impact!
Film: Final Score
Action Star: Christopher Mitchum (?)
Tagline (that doubles as a plot synopsis): “So help me God, they’ll pay.”
Review and Random Thoughts
Sailor Monsoon– Two things before we start: 1. Did you know Robert Mitchum had a son and 2. Did you know he was in so many crazy action films?
Basement Bros— No and no but after watching this, I think I like him more than his father now.
SM— That’s a bold statement.
BB— Don’t get me wrong, Robert Mitchum is an amazing actor but….
SM— But he wasn’t in Final Score
SM— Final Score is one of those movies that comes around once in a blue moon, that makes you question reality. How did this get made? How have I gone this long without seeing it? Why is Christopher Mitchum making me question my sexuality?
BB— Not a single element of this film should work. You have the son of cinema legend teaming up with a former artistic assistant for Walt Disney to make an action film in Indonesia written by the guy who made craziest Rambo rip off ever, The Intruder. This is all a recipe for a great “So bad, It’s good” movie but it’s legitimately amazing.
SM— It feels like someone dared Robert Rodriguez to remake The Raid 2 with a 500 dollar budget but while being high on ayahuasca.
BB— The plot is essentially, “What if Rambo was the Punisher?” and it wastes no time getting to the goods.
SM— There’s maybe 15 minutes of plot and while It’s a tad boring in the beginning, once the shit hits the fan, it never stops.
BB— When it comes to insane, over-the-top action, Indonesia may give America a run for its money.
SM— Agreed. Any country that produces Lady Terminator and Virgins from Hell, demands your respect.
BB— I have no idea how they were able to afford so many explosions for such a minuscule budget.
SM— I referenced Rodriguez earlier because El Mariachi is still the benchmark for do-it-yourself filmmaking, but–and no disrespect to Rodriguez–this film had half the budget and is 3x as action packed. There’s even a motorcycle that shoots fucking missiles.
BB— So. Many. Explosions.
SM— Honestly, this film created an entirely new subgenre, “explosion porn.”
BB— I’m now imagining that scene in American Psycho, where Bale is looking at himself flex in the mirror while banging a prostitute but replace Bale with Bay and the mirror with this film on constant repeat.
SM— There’s no way that prostitute isn’t wearing a mask of Bay.
BB— What do you think this film has more of: Explosions or moments where the stunt man probably, almost certainly died?
SM— Explosions but it’s an extremely close race. A photo finish as they say and speaking of, I really wanted to go frame by frame to see if they were using any sort of dummies or safety precautions because it’s almost guaranteed there’s a cemetery in Indonesia named after this film. Which is filled to the brim with dead stunt men.
BB— I counted at least twelve times I was certain I had just watched a man’s final moments on earth.
SM— It’s pretty fucking crazy but in all honesty, the stunt work is rad as fuck.
BB— This film is a treasure. A crazy, explosion filled treasure.
SM— On a scale of 1-5 dick shots, what would you give it?
BB— Six dick shots and 200 explosions.
SM— That sounds like the greatest title of an autobiography, ever.
BB— Is it too late to call it?
BB— Damn it.
Conversations Without Context
“The fact that he’s considering getting his son a plastic gun for his birthday, while his son is getting shot to death, is so far past the point of subtly, it actually becomes clever again.”
“Why the fuck isn’t Chris Mitchum more famous?”
“Wait, is he about to hook up with this chick, even though this entire film is about him trying to get revenge for the people who gang raped and then murdered his wife?”
“Why the fuck isn’t Chris Mitchum on the side of Mount Rushmore? I now declare him the new patron saint of asskickery.”