Thursday, September 9, 2010

MOVIE REVIEW: MACHETE

Did any of you see Grindhouse in 2007? In his collaboration with Quentin Tarantino, Robert Rodriguez introduced a mock trailer for a fake movie called Machete starring his cousin, shockingly unattractive, veteran character actor Danny Trejo (Desperado, Con Air) as an intimidating Mexican day laborer. Now, as a tribute to excessively violent, low-budget, ‘70s exploitation films, that ‘coming attraction’ has become a testosterone-fueled movie that will appeal only to those of us with strong stomachs and a very warped sense of humor.

Although not to be taken seriously, the minimalist plot revolves around Machete (Trejo), a badass ex-Mexican Federale who is seeking revenge against the vicious Mexican drug lord who killed his wife and daughter. Within the opening minutes, he lops off the heads and limps of a dozen gangsters guarding the kingpin Torrez (Steven Seagal). Left for dead, Machete recuperates and flees over-the-border to Austin. He is coerced under threat of deportation to accept $150,000 from double-crossing Booth (Jeff Fahey) to kill conservative, intolerant Texas Senator McLaughlin (Robert De Niro), who denounces illegal immigrants as “parasites” and enjoys driving with sadistic, rifle-wielding Von (Don Johnson), shooting unarmed Mexicans they find sneaking into the country. But it’s a set-up and when he’s identified as the would-be assassin, Machete’s only allies are his brother (Cheech Marin), a very funny and less-than-pious priest, and Luz (Michelle Rodriguez), the proprietor of a taco truck and leader of ‘the Network,’ the underground resistance. Then there’s half-clad and always in stilettos, Sartana (Jessica Alba), a luscious Immigration and Customs Enforcement Agent, and the drugged up and slutty, April (Lindsay Lohan), Booth’s spoiled daughter (not much of a stretch). Mix ‘em all together and you get murder and mayhem.

Granted, writer/director Robert Rodriguez (Sin City, From Dusk Til Dawn and Spy Kids) and his co-director/longtime editor Ethan Maniquis are only minor league Quentin Tarantinos, but they assemble enough absurd, offensive, over-the-top, politically incorrect conventions – like bigoted hombres, naughty nurses and fabulous naked bodies (where did she pull out that phone from?!) – to score as a well-done, late-summer diversion. And they’re already planning two sequels.

So for an intentionally junky, grade-B movie, on a scale from 1 to 10, Machete is a campy, slice-and-dice 7. And I don’t have to be a betting woman to suggest that men will like this R-rated guilty pleasure much more than women.

WARNING: This movie is more offensive than it sounds!

One of the unforgettable images from Grindhouse

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