And with that being said, I am now back in the business. The business of giving you the business. So lets get down to business!
Tonights movie review is "Pieces" released in 1982. At first glance, this movie looks like it was shot in 1972, because the film quality is so washed out and, well, flaccid. Directed by Juan Piquer Simón, and written by Juan, a guy named Dick Randall and finally a guy who decided he wanted to be remembered as "John Shadow" (among other things) , I have to state my honest opinion of this movie.
This movie both sucks and blows!
Now I know what you're thinking. "How can this movie be so bad. Haven't you reviewed movies that are far worse than this?" Well, as a reviewer, I have an obligation. An obligation to bring you the truth. To remain a tall, up thrust pillar of the reviewing community! To remain strong, firm and steady! To retain a rigid reviewing system that can not be deflated by cheap theatrical reviews full of fancily worded phrases that appeal to your baser and darker sides, which might actually help to get me more readers. No, Spore fans, I must remain bold, and present my reviews to the faces of the public, never showing either shame nor indecision while allowing my ideas to flow freely over the masses. Rejoice in awe and stare agape at the naked unyielding truths before you!
I'd just like to take a minute to point out that my reviews are impartial and unyielding, and unlike some other reviewers, I won't compromise my position by accepting money and sullying my reputation with corporate prostitution.
Mostly because no one would pay me.
So how does a movie that both sucks and blows get made? Well, I've given it some thought and I presume that it may have started late one night when one of the 3 aforementioned writers was sitting around their dorm room in college and said something like this:
"Wow man, I was reading about this Freud guy in my psych intro book... OK, so its your book technically, but that's not the point man, let me finish. So this Freud guy says that like, we all want to kill our fathers and sleep with our mothers and, like, your penis is the source of all your psychological dysfu... disinf... problems, and like... hey man don't Bogart that joint! Awww! Anyway, like I was thinking that if people really got messed up like that when they were kids they'd turn out to be some pretty SPORED up adults, and like, they'd be all psycho killers and stuff. And I could so totally make a movie about that, and people'd be all, like, MAN! That movie was SPORED up, and totally crazy... Dude, did you eat the last of the brownies my mom made?"
And out of that terrible morass, "Pieces" was born. Probably. Heh, more ass. (Insert requisite fart joke here... wait, how do you insert a fart?!?!)
To wit, this movie actually presents two separate phallic image ideals. Good and Evil, so to speak. The first is that of the killer, who was traumatized by his mother when he was a child. He is using his chainsaw as a substitute for his phallus and attacking women to steal pieces of their anatomy (hmmm... pozzible sexual identickty confuzion? Yah?). Afterwards he sews them together to create the ultimate woman. Here are a few examples.
Note how the chainsaw is held at crotch height in front of the pelvis.
Again, chainsaw coming out of the crotch.
Has this ever happened to you? You are alone with a man in a trench coat in a elevator when he suddenly opens said trench coat and exposes his chainsaw to you. Phallic. Phallic to the bone!
But does our depraved killer stop there? No! When next we see him, he has penetrated the women's locker room near the college tennis courts.
Literally.
Well, before you go thinking that this movie is a total sausage fest, I'll point out that there is some damn fine acting by Lynda Day George, who plays Mary Riggs, a female, undercover detective/tennis instructor/women's pro tennis champ/older woman love interest. Because there's no sound to go with this picture, I'll fill you in on Mary's compelling narrative. And I quote:
"BASTARD!
BASTARD!!
BASTARD!!!"
On the other side of the tube, we have Kendall (as seen above). Kendall represents all the good things that come from the phallus. Good attributes, like sexual potency, respect, the ability to instantaneously be removed from the list of suspects by a hardened police detective because he likes you despite the fact that you appear in every crime scene in the movie and always have some relation to the girl who was killed. Classic examples, every one!
Sound a little far fetched? Well apparently, Kendall can do no wrong. A 20 year veteran of the police force would stake his life (and the life of Mary Rigg's as well) on it. Also, it appears that Kendall can sleep with any woman on the entire campus at any time. This is made quite apparent as he is doing so throughout most of the movie. How is this possible? How can any one man be the sole sex interest for an entire campus full of young, hormonal college girls? How can he still walk? How is this possible? Can I explain it? Do I have an answer for you?
Yes, as a matter of fact I do! You see...
...
....
.....
Kendall has a magic penis.
Its true! How else can one man satisfy the needs of thousands of women? How can he be at the scene of every crime without arousing suspicion? How does he not get the clap? He must have a magic penis! Its the only logical explanation!
Fortunately, logic has very little to do with "Pieces". For at the very end of the movie, after the killer is revealed and vanquished, we are shown his patchwork creation. With the arms of a dancer, the legs of a tennis player and the body of a swimmer (see? No Logic!), this hideous and rotting corpse puzzle is revealed. And then, for NO APPARANT REASON WHAT-SO-EVER this rotting dead corpse swimmer/tennis player/dancer/mom (he saved the head) comes to life for a brief moment to reveal the shocking twist ending that not even Freud would have dared to film!
You see, while Kendall survives this movie...
... his magic penis does not.
