Dock Rock
Club Dread (2004)
directed by Jay Chandrasekhar
rating: 3 out of 5 cravats
on DVD from Netflix
It's unbelievable to me that no one has scanned the Coconut Pete LP covers someplace I can find them with a one-step search, but the fact of their existence is really all the recommendation that Club Dread needs. Bill Paxton's failed Jimmy Buffett predecessor is, like Coconut Pete's resort and Club Dread in general, good-natured, vulgar, louche, and funny. The movie, presumably, was marketed towards the "unrated edition" crowd, an innocent group if ever there was one, but Coconut Beach Resort wouldn't be quite so convincingly sleazy if the Broken Lizard team didn't act like they have the same bare breast fantasies as their fans.
Better still, the body count is merciless. As the ocean tightens like a noose around safe places to hide on the island, and prominent members of the Coconut Beach staff drop like flies, I admired the degree to which I had learned enough about so many different characters in so short a time to miss them when they were killed. Like Jurassic Park without the dinosaurs, Sam Neill with a wallet full of condoms, or John Williams on steel drums, it's a whodunit with tropical style. Bonus points if you pair your screening with the full-on Dr. Jacoby (palm tree wallpaper, tinted sunglasses, silent tears) at the next in-house Halloween.
directed by Jay Chandrasekhar
rating: 3 out of 5 cravats
on DVD from Netflix
It's unbelievable to me that no one has scanned the Coconut Pete LP covers someplace I can find them with a one-step search, but the fact of their existence is really all the recommendation that Club Dread needs. Bill Paxton's failed Jimmy Buffett predecessor is, like Coconut Pete's resort and Club Dread in general, good-natured, vulgar, louche, and funny. The movie, presumably, was marketed towards the "unrated edition" crowd, an innocent group if ever there was one, but Coconut Beach Resort wouldn't be quite so convincingly sleazy if the Broken Lizard team didn't act like they have the same bare breast fantasies as their fans.
Better still, the body count is merciless. As the ocean tightens like a noose around safe places to hide on the island, and prominent members of the Coconut Beach staff drop like flies, I admired the degree to which I had learned enough about so many different characters in so short a time to miss them when they were killed. Like Jurassic Park without the dinosaurs, Sam Neill with a wallet full of condoms, or John Williams on steel drums, it's a whodunit with tropical style. Bonus points if you pair your screening with the full-on Dr. Jacoby (palm tree wallpaper, tinted sunglasses, silent tears) at the next in-house Halloween.
posted by NPK at 7:31 AM
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