Yipee-Ki-Yay Mr Falcon

It's another case of two movies with extremely similar plots being made right on each others heels in the 1999, but in completely different ways. Marvel at Bruce Willis' weird hairpiece, at how damaged the young Haley Joel Osment appears, watch Kevin Bacon dig a big goddamn hole in his yard while his creepy kid is played by an actor nobody remembers as you yell at the TV, it's "Paint It Black! How does a guitarist not recognize Paint It Black!!" 

A remake/reboot of the somewhat bizarre, Queen-scored, yet wonderfully endearing 1980s fantasy flick Highlander is apparently on its way, for real this time. The original really shouldn't have work, NONE of the sequels worked, and the TV show spinoff had a rabid, but small fanbase. But Henry Cavill is — most likely — starring in a remake of the OG film and stepping into Christopher Lambert's sneakers and trench coat as Connor McCloud. But what do we, the fans who have been there since the beginning, want from a remake, if anything at all?

Look, it was a really good run — 27 movies over seven decades is nothing to sneer at. But as producers of the James Bond films quest once again to find a new actor to step into the 007 tux, one must ask the question: In the 2020s, do we really need a new Bond? Must the epic series continue, or should Bond be allowed to retire into the desert forever? Well, we all know that as long as someone can make some money off yet another Bond and another Bond movie, they will. But we'll still complain about it.  

Ah the cinematic experience that was Wolf Man (2025) — we waited months and months through delay after delay for a werewolf movie that...wasn't actually a werewolf movie because it had a similar but really different monster, but it was also trying to be a cabin-in-the-woods movie, and a boring one, yet it was called Wolf Man despite being about neither a werewolf nor Lawrence Talbot. Fuck. And then there was the extraordinarily creepy, extraordinarily gross, and somewhat overwrought Nosferatu from Robert Eggers, who is making his own werewolf movies soon — which presumably is about actual werewolves. Ok...enough...listen...do it now!

The movies in the 80s — horror movies, family movies, movies about talking pets, and cartoons about talking dinosaurs — they were all somehow incredibly, hauntingly dark as shit. Here are some of the movies from our childhood that left a dent, a scar, a mangled bit of psyche in their wake. Do we have any in common?

It's 1997. You pop a VHS that contains from-cable-recorded copies of Glimmer Man, Fire Down Below, and On Deadly Ground and watch them in succession until you can't take any more horrendous dialog and fake New York accents...or berets and sleeveless cardigans.
You switch the input back to TV, and after the screen flickers blue for a moment, and then you're 10 minutes into a Columbo TV movie special, so you don't know who did it just like Peter Falk.
Later that night, on the Million Dollar Movie, you resign to insomnia and catch Road Games, a gem from 1981 about a trucker on the barren highways of Australia engaged in a deadly game of cat and mouse — with a super young Jamie Lee Curtis playing his a hitchhiker companion. And you watch the whole, damn, thing — with weird late-night commercials.
You fall asleep to Above the Law on the couch as a form of self flagellation whilst you dreaming of a short, trenchcoated detective chewing on a cheap cigar fighting Rasta gangsters and Keenan Ivory Wayans in a Road Warrior knockoff. It was a time of drastic magic. 

There are some actors who were big bright shooting stars, gleaming for a couple years and then gone. Then, there are some actors whose faces we have literally been looking at on screen for our entire lives. Nic Cage is one of those screaming, crying, wacky faces. We take a thorough look at the high notes and some of the lesser known notes of his long, nepotism-launched career.  

At one point, a young Leonardo DiCaprio was in consideration to play Patrick Bateman in American Psycho (2000), the surprisingly excellent adaptation of a horribly difficult book to adapt with the same title by Brett Easton Ellis. The role of Bateman, of course, went to Christian Bale.
Now, as news circulates that we may be getting a new adaptation of the novel about yuppie madness in 1980s New York City with Austin Butler stepping into the role, we take a look at what it might have been like if DiCaprio had been the one running through a hallway covered in blood, naked save for a pair of Nikes, wielding a chainsaw.