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Hardware
(Richard Stanley, 1990)
Christmas Eve in the wasteland. Got to find a present for the girlfriend. I think she's into sculpting. It's like, her passion or her trade or whatever the script told us. This mysterious nomad's carrying a sack of metallic junk. Gonna barter with him and this greasy midget over the detached head of a droid. Perfect present! Man, check out those apocalyptic skies all red with radiation. That's some festive looking sh*t. Angry Bob's on the radio talking about his "industrial dick." He sure sounds like Iggy Pop. And this cabbie is a spitting image of Lemmy. What a coincidence that he's playing "Ace of Spades." Is this my girlfriend's apartment? Merry f**kin' Christmas, babe! I hope you like my gift! Now put away that Geiger counter and let's do the nasty! My name is Dylan McDermott and I'm a terrible actor but I've got this really cool robotic hand that looks as if someone grafted a Nintendo Glove onto my forearm. I hope it doesn't electrocute you while I'm finger-banging you in the shower. Wonder if that fat pervert neighbor is watching us through his telescope again? Man, the filthy things that spew from that slob's mouth! And speaking of filthy things spewing from mouths, I'm just gonna lie around your apartment for awhile and spit some terribly written dialogue about the government sterilization program that we keep seeing reports about on the news. Hey, at least this post-apocalypse comes with cable television, am I right?! Now throw on a Ministry music video and make something cool with that robot's skull. Oh, what's that? It's not the head of some harmless droid but part of a government-issued killing machine named M.A.R.K. 13 that's capable of self-repair? Well, f**k me sideways and call me Sally. I'd return the hunk of junk but I threw away the receipt!
What the hell movie are we in, anyway? Hardware? Is that like some kind of low-grade Terminator rip-off? Figured as much. I bet this is a cult favorite among cyberpunk enthusiasts. Yeah? Not surprised. It's got that grimy, dirty, nihilistic, do-it-yourself thing going for it. Like the movie equivalent of a garage punk band with a modicum of talent. This director sure has a fetish for red filters. For a second there I thought I had fallen into a Nicolas Winding Refn film. Gotta give this director props for his distinct visual flair. Wish every scene wasn't so damn dark, though. I can't even make out what's happening half the time. What's the director's name? Richard Stanley? Never heard of him. Judging by this, he's a much better director than a writer because this script is garbage. The premise itself has been recycled from a hundred other sources. Oh, really? The filmmakers were sued for plagiarizing a short story from an 80's comic book? Serves them right. Guess all that "borrowing" could be considered a motif now that this robotic skull is reassembling itself from various pieces of junk. Oh, excuse me, your art, I mean. Didn't intend to offend. You're beautiful. Let's f**k again!
Am I the only one questioning if the pace is ever going to pick up? Movie's halfway over and nothing's happened. Sh*t. Careful what you ask for, I guess. Now too much is happening. That looked like a painful death. Dude just had his eyes gouged out. Babe, you should know that swinging from a power line is never a good idea. That image of a roach crawling out of my arm is gonna cause me nightmares. Careful of those automated doors, black man! They'll slice you clean in half! Whoever was in charge of the gore effects in this film should be commended. Shame that they had to tone down the violence to prevent an "X" rating. Damn MPAA. Also a shame that so much of the action is refined to this dimly lit apartment, which really cripples the creativity. Guessing the restricted setting was a victim of the budget. Hey, I haven't even mentioned my buddy Shades! He's nicknamed Shades because he's always wearing shades. Get it? He's annoying and he's often tripping on space acid, but he's crucial to the plot. How many climaxes does this damn film have, anyway? I swear this sh*t was about to end like fifteen times but it just keeps going. I'm ready to see my name in the credits!
The poster says Hardware is "the best science-fiction horror film since Alien." I say that's a load of horse sh*t. However, I am tempted to recommend the film on the strength of its aesthetic and music alone. I already mentioned Ace of Spades and Ministry being on the soundtrack. The score is eclectic and awesome and consistently complementary of the visuals. There's the lonesome plucking of guitar strings in early desert scenes that add a western flavor. When things get trippy, bombastic opera blares, accentuating the hallucinatory visuals and threatening to send viewers into an epileptic seizure as strobe lights blind and disorient. Throughout the rest of the film a very 80's synthesizer pulses and probes like the sonic manifestation of technological death approaching. All of this adds to an already impressive atmosphere achieved through the director's visionary eye. There's a decent attempt at world building through snippets of dialogue and TV footage. There's also the germinations of political subtext, what with the robot's patriotic paint scheme and a death gas that smells like apple pie, but those details feel like half-baked afterthoughts. The infrared robotic POV is a well visited too often, although the visual trick is effective at times. It's a shame that the story, dialogue and performances are so lackluster. The pacing is also terrible. It takes an eternity for anything to happen, and even when the movie transforms into a bloody cybernetic slasher, the pacing remains wonky.
Hardware has the look, sound and feel of a cyberpunk cult classic, but the wires inside are faulty. The talent isn't fully exploited. The potential isn't reached. You'll catch glimpses of greatness, but those moments are like sparks of electricity that fizzle and die, leaving behind a movie that is too dull, too derivative, too uneven.
Hardware
(Richard Stanley, 1990)
Christmas Eve in the wasteland. Got to find a present for the girlfriend. I think she's into sculpting. It's like, her passion or her trade or whatever the script told us. This mysterious nomad's carrying a sack of metallic junk. Gonna barter with him and this greasy midget over the detached head of a droid. Perfect present! Man, check out those apocalyptic skies all red with radiation. That's some festive looking sh*t. Angry Bob's on the radio talking about his "industrial dick." He sure sounds like Iggy Pop. And this cabbie is a spitting image of Lemmy. What a coincidence that he's playing "Ace of Spades." Is this my girlfriend's apartment? Merry f**kin' Christmas, babe! I hope you like my gift! Now put away that Geiger counter and let's do the nasty! My name is Dylan McDermott and I'm a terrible actor but I've got this really cool robotic hand that looks as if someone grafted a Nintendo Glove onto my forearm. I hope it doesn't electrocute you while I'm finger-banging you in the shower. Wonder if that fat pervert neighbor is watching us through his telescope again? Man, the filthy things that spew from that slob's mouth! And speaking of filthy things spewing from mouths, I'm just gonna lie around your apartment for awhile and spit some terribly written dialogue about the government sterilization program that we keep seeing reports about on the news. Hey, at least this post-apocalypse comes with cable television, am I right?! Now throw on a Ministry music video and make something cool with that robot's skull. Oh, what's that? It's not the head of some harmless droid but part of a government-issued killing machine named M.A.R.K. 13 that's capable of self-repair? Well, f**k me sideways and call me Sally. I'd return the hunk of junk but I threw away the receipt!
What the hell movie are we in, anyway? Hardware? Is that like some kind of low-grade Terminator rip-off? Figured as much. I bet this is a cult favorite among cyberpunk enthusiasts. Yeah? Not surprised. It's got that grimy, dirty, nihilistic, do-it-yourself thing going for it. Like the movie equivalent of a garage punk band with a modicum of talent. This director sure has a fetish for red filters. For a second there I thought I had fallen into a Nicolas Winding Refn film. Gotta give this director props for his distinct visual flair. Wish every scene wasn't so damn dark, though. I can't even make out what's happening half the time. What's the director's name? Richard Stanley? Never heard of him. Judging by this, he's a much better director than a writer because this script is garbage. The premise itself has been recycled from a hundred other sources. Oh, really? The filmmakers were sued for plagiarizing a short story from an 80's comic book? Serves them right. Guess all that "borrowing" could be considered a motif now that this robotic skull is reassembling itself from various pieces of junk. Oh, excuse me, your art, I mean. Didn't intend to offend. You're beautiful. Let's f**k again!
Am I the only one questioning if the pace is ever going to pick up? Movie's halfway over and nothing's happened. Sh*t. Careful what you ask for, I guess. Now too much is happening. That looked like a painful death. Dude just had his eyes gouged out. Babe, you should know that swinging from a power line is never a good idea. That image of a roach crawling out of my arm is gonna cause me nightmares. Careful of those automated doors, black man! They'll slice you clean in half! Whoever was in charge of the gore effects in this film should be commended. Shame that they had to tone down the violence to prevent an "X" rating. Damn MPAA. Also a shame that so much of the action is refined to this dimly lit apartment, which really cripples the creativity. Guessing the restricted setting was a victim of the budget. Hey, I haven't even mentioned my buddy Shades! He's nicknamed Shades because he's always wearing shades. Get it? He's annoying and he's often tripping on space acid, but he's crucial to the plot. How many climaxes does this damn film have, anyway? I swear this sh*t was about to end like fifteen times but it just keeps going. I'm ready to see my name in the credits!
The poster says Hardware is "the best science-fiction horror film since Alien." I say that's a load of horse sh*t. However, I am tempted to recommend the film on the strength of its aesthetic and music alone. I already mentioned Ace of Spades and Ministry being on the soundtrack. The score is eclectic and awesome and consistently complementary of the visuals. There's the lonesome plucking of guitar strings in early desert scenes that add a western flavor. When things get trippy, bombastic opera blares, accentuating the hallucinatory visuals and threatening to send viewers into an epileptic seizure as strobe lights blind and disorient. Throughout the rest of the film a very 80's synthesizer pulses and probes like the sonic manifestation of technological death approaching. All of this adds to an already impressive atmosphere achieved through the director's visionary eye. There's a decent attempt at world building through snippets of dialogue and TV footage. There's also the germinations of political subtext, what with the robot's patriotic paint scheme and a death gas that smells like apple pie, but those details feel like half-baked afterthoughts. The infrared robotic POV is a well visited too often, although the visual trick is effective at times. It's a shame that the story, dialogue and performances are so lackluster. The pacing is also terrible. It takes an eternity for anything to happen, and even when the movie transforms into a bloody cybernetic slasher, the pacing remains wonky.
Hardware has the look, sound and feel of a cyberpunk cult classic, but the wires inside are faulty. The talent isn't fully exploited. The potential isn't reached. You'll catch glimpses of greatness, but those moments are like sparks of electricity that fizzle and die, leaving behind a movie that is too dull, too derivative, too uneven.