frankthedm
First Post
Sci fi channel, the grindhouse theater of the new millennium.Insight said:
I think this one sounds slightly more watchable than Stan Lee's Herpies
Stan Lee's Harpies..
- Thread starter trancejeremy
- Start date
I think this one sounds slightly more watchable than Stan Lee's Herpies
frankthedm
First Post
I found the bug movies one with with dean stockwell and the other with Vincent Ventresca watchable. Dragon storm had some funny moments.Sir Brennen said:
But sci fi has cranked out a lot of flaming turds.
trancejeremy
Adventurer
I found an article at Wired (which I apparently now have lost) about Sci-Fi's originals. Apparently 3 guys from their accounting (or something like that, maybe budget) department come up with an idea (usually involving a creature), then give a company $750k to develop it and make a movie about it.
OTOH, I know some "Sci-Fi Originals" were not done like that, like D&D 2 (which was touted as one) and I think "George and the Dragon" (which they called Dragonsword, but actually had a theatrical release in some countries). Given just how bad the special effects were (it didn't even use bad CGI, a lot was bad blue screen), I wonder if they just picked up the movie just because Stan Lee was involved. (Because they are just starting to promote the 2nd season of Who Wants to be a Superhero)
OTOH, I know some "Sci-Fi Originals" were not done like that, like D&D 2 (which was touted as one) and I think "George and the Dragon" (which they called Dragonsword, but actually had a theatrical release in some countries). Given just how bad the special effects were (it didn't even use bad CGI, a lot was bad blue screen), I wonder if they just picked up the movie just because Stan Lee was involved. (Because they are just starting to promote the 2nd season of Who Wants to be a Superhero)
Mistwell
Crusty Old Meatwad
Thanks for the reminder TranceJeremy. Here is that article:
http://www.wired.com/wired/archive/12.10/scifi.html
We've Created a Monster!
How three programming geeks turned the Sci Fi Channel into the best little horror house in the movie business.
By Gary Wolf
An insect-borne plague more devastating than West Nile virus is sweeping the globe. In the race for a cure, unscrupulous researchers plan to run secret tests on a violent prisoner. Suddenly, the prisoner slips his handcuffs, breaks into the lab, and takes a scientist hostage. Guards fire a hail of bullets at the escapee, piercing a chamber containing millions of genetically altered bugs that swarm the prisoner. The gruesome result? Mansquito!
Set for release as a full-length film on the Sci Fi Channel next spring, Mansquito was the idea of Ray Cannella. He and two colleagues, Thomas Vitale and Chris Regina, are the brains behind more than 20 other monster movies, including Snakehead Terror, The Bone Snatcher, and Alien Lockdown. That's an impressive oeuvre for a trio that works full time in Sci Fi's scheduling and acquisitions department. Their job isn't to make movies; it's to parse Nielsen ratings minute-by-minute, analyze spreadsheets of dates, times, and programs, and fill the channel 24 hours a day with licensed straight-to-video movies and old Star Trek and Twilight Zone episodes.
Cannella & Co. got into the monster business only after they became frustrated with the quality of movies they were buying from independent producers. As acquisitions director for Sci Fi, Cannella was screening hundreds of films a year. His conclusion: He and his number-crunching friends could do better. "You would have a group of kids out in the woods and they'd conjure up a demon, and the demon would rip the head off three of the kids, and then there'd be opening credits. I'd be sitting there thinking, All right, this is going to be good! But then there would be 40 minutes of people going around wondering what happened. I'm saying, Hey, schmuck, there's a demon in the woods. We saw it in the first three minutes!" Cannella longed for the type of monster movie he'd grown up with, the low-budget screamer with a twisted sense of humor, plenty of creature action, and, in the best examples, a subversive subtext.
Before they could moonlight as movie producers themselves, they had to convince their boss, Sci Fi Channel president Bonnie Hammer. In her previous job, with USA Networks, Hammer had increased World Wrestling Federation viewership by ignoring any pretense of sport. She amped up the outrageous backstories and cashed in on the pathos. The low camp of wrestling gave male viewers permission to enjoy what was, in essence, a soap opera. B-movies tap a similar vein. Audiences are attracted to the Sci Fi Channel's Saturday night monster movies not because they're idiots, or because they smoke too much marijuana, but because at the end of a long week they enjoy a free pass to follow a bit of random anxiety to its most gloriously paranoid conclusion - and laugh.
Hammer gave the group the go-ahead to make one original film in 2002, on the condition that it didn't interfere with their regular work. Last year, they produced a few more. It was soon clear that their movies were outscoring the independently produced features they purchased. The ready-mades acquired by the channel typically attract about 1.6 million viewers. Sci Fi originals routinely get 2 million viewers the first time they are shown, then an average of 1 million each time they repeat. A few - like Dragon Storm - occasionally come close to beating Sci Fi's well-known Stargate SG-1 television series. This year, Cannella & Co. will put out a dozen films. With ratings for the Saturday night monster flicks up nearly 20 percent from last year, the team is greenlighted to make 22 in 2005.
Of course, Sci Fi's original movies aren't the slightest bit believable, and with their fanged, insect-jawed, and saber-toothed villains, they tend to blend together. Nonetheless, the goal of Cannella's group is to make a classic monster film that becomes embedded in popular culture. "The most memorable movies from the '50s might not have been the best-made ones," Cannella explains. "They were movies that delivered the fun monsters but were also metaphors for what was happening in society. The Blob was about communism; Godzilla was about the bombing of Hiroshima; Invasion of the Body Snatchers was about McCarthyism. We try to find that metaphor."
Over the years, the Sci Fi guys have developed some firm ideas about how a monster movie should be made. The first rule: Show the monster. The failure of independently produced features to give ample air time to monsters was what drove the Sci Fi Channel to make its own movies in the first place, and the need for frequent shots of the creature remains an article of faith. Of course, some of their movies involve not monsters, but aliens. In that case, rule one becomes: Show the alien. The second rule: Put the monster in the title. "Boa vs. Python does better than Terminal Invasion," says Regina. This is because Boa vs. Python makes an unmistakable commitment to giant snakes, while Terminal Invasion doesn't indicate that people will be murdered by aliens while snowed in at an airport. The best titles are as explicit as legal documents.
Invariably, a Saturday night creature feature runs for 88 minutes. The creature must appear by minute 15. Hollywood dogma calls for a plot structure of three acts, but three-act dramas are too slow for Cannella, Vitale, and Regina. Cannella tells his writers and directors that he wants a death every eight minutes - including monsters eating people and pooping them out. Their movies come in seven acts. That gives you six cliffhangers, plus a climax, if you do things right.
When it comes to the stories, Cannella likes plots that are based - very loosely - on headline news. "Did you hear about how Stephen Hawking took back part of his theory and said that some information can escape a black hole after all?" says Cannella. "In our version, a mishap at a particle accelerator creates a persistent black hole, and the thing that comes out of it is a monster." Mansquito is about medical experimentation on humans. The upcoming Larva, in which mad cows get a newfangled feed substitute and incubate enormous parasites, takes on industrial agriculture. Hammerhead (that is, Mansquito with a shark) begins with a nod to stem cell research.
Recently, Cannella saw a CNN segment about a creature called a hyote. The strange canine appeared to be a cross between a hyena and a coyote. "I ran screaming from my office telling people to turn on the news," says Cannella. "Now, hey, somebody probably shaved his dog as a joke, but for the purposes of the Sci Fi Channel, I don't give a
. To us, it's a hyote."
Founded in 1992, the Sci Fi Channel is now available in some 83 million US homes - about half of all residences with a television. Penetration is bound to increase. In May, NBC purchased Sci Fi's parent company, Vivendi Universal Entertainment, for $14 billion, adding Sci Fi and four other properties to a cable roster that includes MSNBC, CNBC, and Bravo. Prior to the NBC acquisition, DirecTV paid Sci Fi 20 cents per month for every household reached by DirecTV; now it forks over about 5 pennies more.
Even before the buyout, the Sci Fi Channel had become a kind of mothership for the tiny production companies that pump out today's B-movies. "They have a huge impact on this portion of the industry," says Jeff Beach at Unified Film Organization, one of a handful of producers who regularly works for the channel. "They've propelled the sci-fi genre with their movies. They're expanding it to an audience that's not used to watching these movies."
The Sci Fi guys follow a strict plan to get their ideas onscreen. They pay a flat fee of $750,000 to indies like Beach. Sometimes - as in the case of Mansquito - they approach filmmakers with a fleshed-out scheme; other times, they'll simply have a monster in mind. The $750,000 covers everything from the script and actors to location costs and production work. In the straight-to-video world, that's a dominating sum. "Everybody gets the same deal, because we need movies, not problems," says Cannella. "We depend on these guys. We don't want them going out of business."
Typically, it costs Beach and other filmmakers $1.4 to $1.8 million to make a movie; they supplement the fee from Sci Fi with revenue they earn through foreign-licensing agreements (the Sci Fi Channel keeps the US film rights). Throughout it all - and here's the big difference between this and buying off-the-shelf - Cannella, Vitale, and Regina retain authority over the creative process. In the end, it costs Sci Fi more to put out a film, but "it's not about saving money," explains Cannella. "It's about presenting original material, giving viewers something they can't see anywhere else."
The irony is that, for all their success as filmmakers, they need to be known as film financiers. It's a matter of corporate survival. This way, they're not stepping on the toes of the channel's real program staff in Los Angeles, who produce popular, expensive shows like the Stargate series and Battlestar Gallactica.
At any moment, the Sci Fi Channel is overseeing projects on several continents. Currently, a resurrected saber-toothed-tiger film is playing out in Fiji, a gargoyle movie is under way in Romania, and a goatsucker flick is being made in Costa Rica. This summer, Mansquito was shot in Bulgaria.
"Bulgaria has become a hotbed partly because of what Tom Vitale and these guys are doing," says Ken Badish, president of LA-based Active Entertainment, which has worked with the Sci Fi Channel on five movies so far; four more are in the works. "In Bulgaria, you can get good technical labor and all the other things you need for production. But ironically, the business these guys have created in Bulgaria is reducing the benefit of working there. Other producers come in, the costs rise, and soon you are looking for someplace else."
For all the far-flung locales, the Sci Fi guys never escape the confines of their Manhattan offices. Their real jobs keep them at their desks. Even so, moonlighting as B-movie moguls has never been easier. These days, a million dollars can get you at least passable, and sometimes genuinely creepy, monsters. CGI workstations have plummeted from $10,000 to $3,000 each; renegade animators have set up shop outside Hollywood, and low-end production firms offer professional studio services in Eastern Europe. Now, even the rawest B-movies have that extra sheen. While there are odd slipups in continuity or editing (in Snakehead Terror, for instance, a recognizable shot repeats), there is little in the production quality of these films that is simply laughable.
Roger Corman - the king of the B's who has made more than 300 monster flicks over the past five decades - credits the Sci Fi team with revitalizing a dying art. "They're doing a great job with classic themes from the genre films of the '50s and '60s and updating them for modern audiences and modern technology." One secret to their success, says Corman: They don't let big-budget special effects drive the picture. "In fact, their films often succeed where major studio pictures fail."
In truth, Sci Fi's originals have failed to produce any villains as memorable as the Blob or Audrey the killer carnivorous plant from Corman's own The Little Shop of Horrors. But the great monster films of past decades emerged out of a churning industry of throwaways and imitations. Maybe to get a really good monster you simply need to create lots and lots of monsters. Measured against their aspirations, Mansquito, Hammerhead, Python, and Bone Snatcher are mere prototypes, trial versions for a truly weird creature that attaches itself to the popular imagination and refuses to be dislodged.
Contributing editor Gary Wolf (gary@aether.com) wrote about MoveOn in Wired 11.09.
http://www.wired.com/wired/archive/12.10/scifi.html
We've Created a Monster!
How three programming geeks turned the Sci Fi Channel into the best little horror house in the movie business.
By Gary Wolf
An insect-borne plague more devastating than West Nile virus is sweeping the globe. In the race for a cure, unscrupulous researchers plan to run secret tests on a violent prisoner. Suddenly, the prisoner slips his handcuffs, breaks into the lab, and takes a scientist hostage. Guards fire a hail of bullets at the escapee, piercing a chamber containing millions of genetically altered bugs that swarm the prisoner. The gruesome result? Mansquito!
Set for release as a full-length film on the Sci Fi Channel next spring, Mansquito was the idea of Ray Cannella. He and two colleagues, Thomas Vitale and Chris Regina, are the brains behind more than 20 other monster movies, including Snakehead Terror, The Bone Snatcher, and Alien Lockdown. That's an impressive oeuvre for a trio that works full time in Sci Fi's scheduling and acquisitions department. Their job isn't to make movies; it's to parse Nielsen ratings minute-by-minute, analyze spreadsheets of dates, times, and programs, and fill the channel 24 hours a day with licensed straight-to-video movies and old Star Trek and Twilight Zone episodes.
Cannella & Co. got into the monster business only after they became frustrated with the quality of movies they were buying from independent producers. As acquisitions director for Sci Fi, Cannella was screening hundreds of films a year. His conclusion: He and his number-crunching friends could do better. "You would have a group of kids out in the woods and they'd conjure up a demon, and the demon would rip the head off three of the kids, and then there'd be opening credits. I'd be sitting there thinking, All right, this is going to be good! But then there would be 40 minutes of people going around wondering what happened. I'm saying, Hey, schmuck, there's a demon in the woods. We saw it in the first three minutes!" Cannella longed for the type of monster movie he'd grown up with, the low-budget screamer with a twisted sense of humor, plenty of creature action, and, in the best examples, a subversive subtext.
Before they could moonlight as movie producers themselves, they had to convince their boss, Sci Fi Channel president Bonnie Hammer. In her previous job, with USA Networks, Hammer had increased World Wrestling Federation viewership by ignoring any pretense of sport. She amped up the outrageous backstories and cashed in on the pathos. The low camp of wrestling gave male viewers permission to enjoy what was, in essence, a soap opera. B-movies tap a similar vein. Audiences are attracted to the Sci Fi Channel's Saturday night monster movies not because they're idiots, or because they smoke too much marijuana, but because at the end of a long week they enjoy a free pass to follow a bit of random anxiety to its most gloriously paranoid conclusion - and laugh.
Hammer gave the group the go-ahead to make one original film in 2002, on the condition that it didn't interfere with their regular work. Last year, they produced a few more. It was soon clear that their movies were outscoring the independently produced features they purchased. The ready-mades acquired by the channel typically attract about 1.6 million viewers. Sci Fi originals routinely get 2 million viewers the first time they are shown, then an average of 1 million each time they repeat. A few - like Dragon Storm - occasionally come close to beating Sci Fi's well-known Stargate SG-1 television series. This year, Cannella & Co. will put out a dozen films. With ratings for the Saturday night monster flicks up nearly 20 percent from last year, the team is greenlighted to make 22 in 2005.
Of course, Sci Fi's original movies aren't the slightest bit believable, and with their fanged, insect-jawed, and saber-toothed villains, they tend to blend together. Nonetheless, the goal of Cannella's group is to make a classic monster film that becomes embedded in popular culture. "The most memorable movies from the '50s might not have been the best-made ones," Cannella explains. "They were movies that delivered the fun monsters but were also metaphors for what was happening in society. The Blob was about communism; Godzilla was about the bombing of Hiroshima; Invasion of the Body Snatchers was about McCarthyism. We try to find that metaphor."
Over the years, the Sci Fi guys have developed some firm ideas about how a monster movie should be made. The first rule: Show the monster. The failure of independently produced features to give ample air time to monsters was what drove the Sci Fi Channel to make its own movies in the first place, and the need for frequent shots of the creature remains an article of faith. Of course, some of their movies involve not monsters, but aliens. In that case, rule one becomes: Show the alien. The second rule: Put the monster in the title. "Boa vs. Python does better than Terminal Invasion," says Regina. This is because Boa vs. Python makes an unmistakable commitment to giant snakes, while Terminal Invasion doesn't indicate that people will be murdered by aliens while snowed in at an airport. The best titles are as explicit as legal documents.
Invariably, a Saturday night creature feature runs for 88 minutes. The creature must appear by minute 15. Hollywood dogma calls for a plot structure of three acts, but three-act dramas are too slow for Cannella, Vitale, and Regina. Cannella tells his writers and directors that he wants a death every eight minutes - including monsters eating people and pooping them out. Their movies come in seven acts. That gives you six cliffhangers, plus a climax, if you do things right.
When it comes to the stories, Cannella likes plots that are based - very loosely - on headline news. "Did you hear about how Stephen Hawking took back part of his theory and said that some information can escape a black hole after all?" says Cannella. "In our version, a mishap at a particle accelerator creates a persistent black hole, and the thing that comes out of it is a monster." Mansquito is about medical experimentation on humans. The upcoming Larva, in which mad cows get a newfangled feed substitute and incubate enormous parasites, takes on industrial agriculture. Hammerhead (that is, Mansquito with a shark) begins with a nod to stem cell research.
Recently, Cannella saw a CNN segment about a creature called a hyote. The strange canine appeared to be a cross between a hyena and a coyote. "I ran screaming from my office telling people to turn on the news," says Cannella. "Now, hey, somebody probably shaved his dog as a joke, but for the purposes of the Sci Fi Channel, I don't give a
. To us, it's a hyote."Founded in 1992, the Sci Fi Channel is now available in some 83 million US homes - about half of all residences with a television. Penetration is bound to increase. In May, NBC purchased Sci Fi's parent company, Vivendi Universal Entertainment, for $14 billion, adding Sci Fi and four other properties to a cable roster that includes MSNBC, CNBC, and Bravo. Prior to the NBC acquisition, DirecTV paid Sci Fi 20 cents per month for every household reached by DirecTV; now it forks over about 5 pennies more.
Even before the buyout, the Sci Fi Channel had become a kind of mothership for the tiny production companies that pump out today's B-movies. "They have a huge impact on this portion of the industry," says Jeff Beach at Unified Film Organization, one of a handful of producers who regularly works for the channel. "They've propelled the sci-fi genre with their movies. They're expanding it to an audience that's not used to watching these movies."
The Sci Fi guys follow a strict plan to get their ideas onscreen. They pay a flat fee of $750,000 to indies like Beach. Sometimes - as in the case of Mansquito - they approach filmmakers with a fleshed-out scheme; other times, they'll simply have a monster in mind. The $750,000 covers everything from the script and actors to location costs and production work. In the straight-to-video world, that's a dominating sum. "Everybody gets the same deal, because we need movies, not problems," says Cannella. "We depend on these guys. We don't want them going out of business."
Typically, it costs Beach and other filmmakers $1.4 to $1.8 million to make a movie; they supplement the fee from Sci Fi with revenue they earn through foreign-licensing agreements (the Sci Fi Channel keeps the US film rights). Throughout it all - and here's the big difference between this and buying off-the-shelf - Cannella, Vitale, and Regina retain authority over the creative process. In the end, it costs Sci Fi more to put out a film, but "it's not about saving money," explains Cannella. "It's about presenting original material, giving viewers something they can't see anywhere else."
The irony is that, for all their success as filmmakers, they need to be known as film financiers. It's a matter of corporate survival. This way, they're not stepping on the toes of the channel's real program staff in Los Angeles, who produce popular, expensive shows like the Stargate series and Battlestar Gallactica.
At any moment, the Sci Fi Channel is overseeing projects on several continents. Currently, a resurrected saber-toothed-tiger film is playing out in Fiji, a gargoyle movie is under way in Romania, and a goatsucker flick is being made in Costa Rica. This summer, Mansquito was shot in Bulgaria.
"Bulgaria has become a hotbed partly because of what Tom Vitale and these guys are doing," says Ken Badish, president of LA-based Active Entertainment, which has worked with the Sci Fi Channel on five movies so far; four more are in the works. "In Bulgaria, you can get good technical labor and all the other things you need for production. But ironically, the business these guys have created in Bulgaria is reducing the benefit of working there. Other producers come in, the costs rise, and soon you are looking for someplace else."
For all the far-flung locales, the Sci Fi guys never escape the confines of their Manhattan offices. Their real jobs keep them at their desks. Even so, moonlighting as B-movie moguls has never been easier. These days, a million dollars can get you at least passable, and sometimes genuinely creepy, monsters. CGI workstations have plummeted from $10,000 to $3,000 each; renegade animators have set up shop outside Hollywood, and low-end production firms offer professional studio services in Eastern Europe. Now, even the rawest B-movies have that extra sheen. While there are odd slipups in continuity or editing (in Snakehead Terror, for instance, a recognizable shot repeats), there is little in the production quality of these films that is simply laughable.
Roger Corman - the king of the B's who has made more than 300 monster flicks over the past five decades - credits the Sci Fi team with revitalizing a dying art. "They're doing a great job with classic themes from the genre films of the '50s and '60s and updating them for modern audiences and modern technology." One secret to their success, says Corman: They don't let big-budget special effects drive the picture. "In fact, their films often succeed where major studio pictures fail."
In truth, Sci Fi's originals have failed to produce any villains as memorable as the Blob or Audrey the killer carnivorous plant from Corman's own The Little Shop of Horrors. But the great monster films of past decades emerged out of a churning industry of throwaways and imitations. Maybe to get a really good monster you simply need to create lots and lots of monsters. Measured against their aspirations, Mansquito, Hammerhead, Python, and Bone Snatcher are mere prototypes, trial versions for a truly weird creature that attaches itself to the popular imagination and refuses to be dislodged.
Contributing editor Gary Wolf (gary@aether.com) wrote about MoveOn in Wired 11.09.
Brown Jenkin
First Post
The article was interesting. I was ammused with the line that they could produce better stuff than the submissions they were getting. I would love to see some of the stuff they rejected.
The article was mistaken on one point though. They have created an iconic monster that has lived on in the imagination and that is Mansquito. I'm not saying that is a good thing just that it is horribly burned into my brain.
The article was mistaken on one point though. They have created an iconic monster that has lived on in the imagination and that is Mansquito. I'm not saying that is a good thing just that it is horribly burned into my brain.
Kahuna Burger
First Post
I apriciate a film that makes an unmistakable commitment to giant snakes....Mistwell said:
In other news, some of the guys were watching Harpies at a family gathering when my son came in. He had missed the opening shot with the eye and head loss and I let him stay a little through the museum scenes. When Bad Old Guy smashed the case with the necklace, little Kahuna Meatball yells "He's naughty!" As things aproached the gratuitous violence stage again I took him into another room, to which he responded by declaring that we had to go away because they were being too naughty. While I tried to distract him with Thomas DVDs he expounded at length on the theme that the "naughty guys in show" needed to sit in their big timeout chairs until they were ready to be good. I had mentioned that we could go out when the baseball game was on, leading to more flights of toddler fancy in which once they had sat in their chairs long enough they could stop being naughty and play baseball instead.
This was possibly the best way I could have expereinced this movie, which will forever be linked in my mind with armed robbers getting timeouts and playing baseball with the harpies instead....
Kester Pelagius
First Post
Kahuna Burger,
That's hilarious. So did the young one seem to like the movie or did he think it was a bunch of silly nonsense like the rest of us?
I more or less made it through Grendel. Granted that wasn't interest in the movie so much as morbid curiosity.
You're probably not too far off the mark. Read my post here to see some of the director's remarks about the movie. They aren't very kind.
Indeed they have. Luckily their series tend to be much better than their movies. Yet I have to admit Harpies has me worried about the quality of Sci-Fi's Flash Gordon.
That's hilarious. So did the young one seem to like the movie or did he think it was a bunch of silly nonsense like the rest of us?
Sir Brennen said:Nah. Abandon hope. A perfectly good script still has to survive producers, directors, marketers, financers, script doctors, tempormental actors, inadequet budgets... it's amazing that any good movies ever get created at all
(I don't think I've ever watched a single Sci-Fi channel "Saturday Night Monster Movie" in it's entirety. Usually 10 minutes here or there as I flip channels convinces me I'm not missing anything.)
I more or less made it through Grendel. Granted that wasn't interest in the movie so much as morbid curiosity.
Mistwell said:
You're probably not too far off the mark. Read my post here to see some of the director's remarks about the movie. They aren't very kind.
frankthedm said:
Indeed they have. Luckily their series tend to be much better than their movies. Yet I have to admit Harpies has me worried about the quality of Sci-Fi's Flash Gordon.
trancejeremy
Adventurer
Well, I have to agree with the director - something had to have happened to the special effects budget for the movie. Not that most of the Sci-Fi movies have great special FX, but they do use a certain standard of them that is passable if obviously fake looking (I think a lot use the same company, the one from UFO films). This looked like they simply left the placeholders in.
That said, I don't think better FX would have helped the movie much. Maybe bumped it up from a 1 to 2.5 (out of 10), because the movie was far more enjoyable with the sound off, which has nothign to do with special effects, but bad writing/acting.
That said, I don't think better FX would have helped the movie much. Maybe bumped it up from a 1 to 2.5 (out of 10), because the movie was far more enjoyable with the sound off, which has nothign to do with special effects, but bad writing/acting.
Brown Jenkin
First Post
I respect the director a little more (still not highly but a little more) for acknowledgeing that the harpies were "flying crack wh*res".
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