DVD Review: The Underground

I got a call last night at 3am. It was none other than Rita Hayworth on the other end. The conversation went something like this:

AF: Hey, aren’t you dead?
RH: Shut up cockface. Now listen here and listen good. I need three jars of Ron Perlman’s sweat, don’t ask why, just get it done.
AF: Well shucks, that sounds tricky. Will Tom Waits’ do?
RH: Yes but be snappy about it, my plan for the resurrection of the old Hollywood studio system will not wait.
AF: Actually if that’s what you’re doing then I’ll have to give you the big fuck off.
RH: Ok so I was a bit harsh I’ll admit…

It was then that I hung up the phone. Stupid fuck has all these grand ideas about giving the classic system the Lazarus treatment, an awry bunch of bollocks I say. She ain’t realising the full repercussions of her proposed action. Where the hell are down-to-earth actors like Jeff Fahey going to scuttle when old Hayworth succeeds in her maniacal plans?

I’ll tell you where, they’ll be shunted off into the Forbidden Zone before you could say “I hear Universal considered producing Parker Kane 2.” Off living in the wastes, eating trees straight out of the arid ground, roaming in search of that last studio exec to say no to a five hour biblical epic starring Cory Feldman as Moses. Bruce Campbell forced to battle Jeffrey Combs over who gets Brian Dennehy’s DVD royalties for FX2: The Deadly Art Of Illusion, a Dennehy now a corpse lying splattered at the bottom of a ravine after being ravaged by an angry Michael Biehn.

There would certainly be no The Underground, a Jeff Fahey outing from 1997. Tell me Russian formalists, what the hell’s the fabula all about here? “Well,” up arises Bakhtin from the carpet. “Fuck you,” I say, “I want Propp, you cunt!” Bakhtin dissolves into the ether, only to be replaced by the white ‘tache of Vladimir Propp. “Where the fuck’s the rest of you?” I yell. “I was told by the chief that this was all you needed,” he replies. “Jesus Christ as long as those good people get the gist of what Fahey’s up to this time, that’s all that’s needed.” A sneering gesture of the left hand was enough to prompt his exegesis on the subject. “A group of rap people start getting killed by some shootists in Abe Lincoln masks. Fahey is a cop, and he and his partner begin to investigate all this bloodshed. During an on-location visit, Fahey’s partner Scully is gunned down. Fahey is then teamed up with a young cop rap fan, and hijinks ensue.”

Article Author: Aaron Fleming

Aaron Fleming is a waster and an idler - prone to pomposity - forever enchanted by the filmic, the sonic, words and the aesthetic - given to the most ludicrous appraisal of Culture's finest icons and compositions. He resides in London.

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