A friend said they reminded her of Rage Against the Machine, but I think that was only because of their energy, more like some of Fishbone’s harder stuff.
I’ve never see a band keep a crowd going for so long, has so much energy, and is still so damn tight. They played most of their ska stuff towards the end.
Writer/director James Mangold obviously didn’t want to take any chances, so not only is Stallone’s Freddy Heflin, the sheriff of a small New Jersey town populated by crooked New York cops, a badge-wearing slug, but he’s also deaf in one ear.
The best thing about the movie is John Leguizamo as the Clown/Violator. As he carts around 20-30 lbs. of foam-rubber costume, crouched over to look about five feet tall and wide, and making it look natural, he gets to spew the best one-liners of the movie.
I go back telling myself that it’s over, that something happened and IMPACT is gone, all the while hoping the next feature will deliver. Something. Anything.
If you’re cranking The Soundtrack to my Life Volume 147 while dustbusting your CD collection and wine rack, you know life took a turn and you missed the exit.
“Now what the fuck are we gonna do? Mr. Burnt Sienna’s fuckin’ dead! That means I’ll have no one to bounce my sarcastic pop-culture references off of!”