The original BloodRayne opened with a promising montage and effective establishing shots it showed a flicker of hope before collapsing into a pile of mediocrity. This sequel opens with an uninspiring montage of faded photographs, it introduces a nails-on-a-chalkboard city boy writer who just arrived in the old west, and like its predecessor it goes downhill from there.
Like a baby learning to walk, Uwe Boll has taken a few unsteady steps away from blatantly ripping off better films in hopes that somehow a bit of Peter Jackson, Sam Raimi, and Michael Bay will rub off on him. Boll fell down, got scared, and ran back to his most primal instinct: leaching. Look out Sergio Leone, since this is a Western, guess who's next?
Contrary to what the credits say, the star of BloodRayne II: Deliverance is not Natassia Malthe who plays the titular character. No, the star is the Western clichés, themselves. All of them.
An outlaw, Billy the Kid, has gripped the poor town of Deliverance. A lone gunslinger (sword slinger?) Rayne rides into these desolate, dusty streets. The sheriff issues her a stern warnin' "not to cause trouble in these here parts. Sade don't like trouble." So Rayne moseys on over to the saloon where she runs into another outlaw, a rival. And they'll settle them thar differences over a game of cards. Yes, cards. Because even if evil vampiric Billy has kidnapped all the children as he holds a town hostage and builds an undead army, there's always time for five card draw.
Rayne whips out a four-of-a-kind (aces, no less) as all these films require, trumping her competition's full house. Of course, villains don't like losin', so they settle this civilized style with an ol' fashioned showdown at nooner midnight, or whenever. That thar Sheriff don't like that much, so he arrests Rayne and sentences her to hang but not before giving her time to make peace in the jail because no Western is complete without a jail scene. Naturally, the heroine is destined to escape and round up the magnificent seven er, magnificent four for the obligatory hero's walk down the main dusty road.
Clichés alone are not any reason to fire off criticism; however, when the plot is nothing more than a game of "connect the clichés" then you're asking for trouble. Compounding this, Uwe Boll decides to imitate the immortal The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly which is really asking for trouble.
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly is a fifteen minute plot sustained across three hours by the directorial virtuosity of Sergio Leone (helped immensely by the energizing and exhilarating score by Ennio Morricone.) That film is the ultimate triumph of style over substance.
While Uwe Boll can be a stylish director, he lacks any sense of discipline (or common sense for that matter.) Thus, Boll ripping off a movie that often flirts with overkill and parody (but knows when to stop) spells disaster.
Prime example: Good, Bad, and the Ugly draws out its final showdown with close ups of eyes, guns, and itchy trigger fingers. So BloodRayne II's finale is a dual narrative where Rayne's posse waltzes into a barn where Billy's posse awaits in the rafters with a small arsenal, meanwhile Rayne sets off a trap that threatens to hang the town's children. It's up to Rayne to hold the rope in place and keep the kids alive. Cut back to the barn, Rayne's posse of two stand around waiting to die, exchanging last moment quips and lighting up a cigarette at a leisurely pace while a redundant tragic motive whines like a dying coyote in the soundtrack. Cut back to Rayne still holding the rope while Billy gets up to give a villain's speech. Cut back to the posse, they're being told to turn around for the tenth time. Cut back to Billy, he still hasn't shut up yet, and Rayne still stands there holding the rope while the shortest of the brats hangs and dies (then Billy feeds on him.)
On their own, either scenario is painfully drawn out; together, they're unbearable. Oh, and now we're cutting over to the townsfolks and city boy who are arguing whether or not they should get involved. Two people run outside, one gets shot, the other runs back inside. More talk ensues. Wonderful.
Someone anyone for the love of God do something meaningful.
But the greatest sin is how poorly the titular character is handled. Rayne is pathetic. She beats one outlaw just fine, and then magically turns into the most worthless action hero ever. The sheriff bops her on the head, and she's out cold. She escapes the gallows, dives into the river, bad guys shoot in her general direction, and when she surfaces she's on the brink of death (nope, we never see any bullets actually hitting her either.) During the film's climactic confrontation, Billy gets bored of fighting Rayne with his letter openers and decides to beat the living crap out of Rayne with his bare fists in front of the villagers villagers who two seconds ago vowed to make a stand standing on the porch, watching Billy hold Rayne up with one hand, repeatedly punching her in the face with the other.
Rayne, you know those blades you've kept on your back through the whole movie? You might try using them.
It's nice to see an action movie willing to hurt it's hero, and even nicer that it's brutal in the beating, but an action movie's hero still needs to be tough. Bruce Willis got ripped apart in the first Die Hard, and the Predatory beat the hell out of Arnold Schwarzennegar but Arnold and Bruce also fought back.
Rayne just stands there and bleeds. I guess that explains the title.
Like a baby learning to walk, Uwe Boll has taken a few unsteady steps away from blatantly ripping off better films in hopes that somehow a bit of Peter Jackson, Sam Raimi, and Michael Bay will rub off on him. Boll fell down, got scared, and ran back to his most primal instinct: leaching. Look out Sergio Leone, since this is a Western, guess who's next?
Contrary to what the credits say, the star of BloodRayne II: Deliverance is not Natassia Malthe who plays the titular character. No, the star is the Western clichés, themselves. All of them.
An outlaw, Billy the Kid, has gripped the poor town of Deliverance. A lone gunslinger (sword slinger?) Rayne rides into these desolate, dusty streets. The sheriff issues her a stern warnin' "not to cause trouble in these here parts. Sade don't like trouble." So Rayne moseys on over to the saloon where she runs into another outlaw, a rival. And they'll settle them thar differences over a game of cards. Yes, cards. Because even if evil vampiric Billy has kidnapped all the children as he holds a town hostage and builds an undead army, there's always time for five card draw.
Rayne whips out a four-of-a-kind (aces, no less) as all these films require, trumping her competition's full house. Of course, villains don't like losin', so they settle this civilized style with an ol' fashioned showdown at nooner midnight, or whenever. That thar Sheriff don't like that much, so he arrests Rayne and sentences her to hang but not before giving her time to make peace in the jail because no Western is complete without a jail scene. Naturally, the heroine is destined to escape and round up the magnificent seven er, magnificent four for the obligatory hero's walk down the main dusty road.
Clichés alone are not any reason to fire off criticism; however, when the plot is nothing more than a game of "connect the clichés" then you're asking for trouble. Compounding this, Uwe Boll decides to imitate the immortal The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly which is really asking for trouble.
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly is a fifteen minute plot sustained across three hours by the directorial virtuosity of Sergio Leone (helped immensely by the energizing and exhilarating score by Ennio Morricone.) That film is the ultimate triumph of style over substance.
While Uwe Boll can be a stylish director, he lacks any sense of discipline (or common sense for that matter.) Thus, Boll ripping off a movie that often flirts with overkill and parody (but knows when to stop) spells disaster.
Prime example: Good, Bad, and the Ugly draws out its final showdown with close ups of eyes, guns, and itchy trigger fingers. So BloodRayne II's finale is a dual narrative where Rayne's posse waltzes into a barn where Billy's posse awaits in the rafters with a small arsenal, meanwhile Rayne sets off a trap that threatens to hang the town's children. It's up to Rayne to hold the rope in place and keep the kids alive. Cut back to the barn, Rayne's posse of two stand around waiting to die, exchanging last moment quips and lighting up a cigarette at a leisurely pace while a redundant tragic motive whines like a dying coyote in the soundtrack. Cut back to Rayne still holding the rope while Billy gets up to give a villain's speech. Cut back to the posse, they're being told to turn around for the tenth time. Cut back to Billy, he still hasn't shut up yet, and Rayne still stands there holding the rope while the shortest of the brats hangs and dies (then Billy feeds on him.)
On their own, either scenario is painfully drawn out; together, they're unbearable. Oh, and now we're cutting over to the townsfolks and city boy who are arguing whether or not they should get involved. Two people run outside, one gets shot, the other runs back inside. More talk ensues. Wonderful.
Someone anyone for the love of God do something meaningful.
But the greatest sin is how poorly the titular character is handled. Rayne is pathetic. She beats one outlaw just fine, and then magically turns into the most worthless action hero ever. The sheriff bops her on the head, and she's out cold. She escapes the gallows, dives into the river, bad guys shoot in her general direction, and when she surfaces she's on the brink of death (nope, we never see any bullets actually hitting her either.) During the film's climactic confrontation, Billy gets bored of fighting Rayne with his letter openers and decides to beat the living crap out of Rayne with his bare fists in front of the villagers villagers who two seconds ago vowed to make a stand standing on the porch, watching Billy hold Rayne up with one hand, repeatedly punching her in the face with the other.
Rayne, you know those blades you've kept on your back through the whole movie? You might try using them.
It's nice to see an action movie willing to hurt it's hero, and even nicer that it's brutal in the beating, but an action movie's hero still needs to be tough. Bruce Willis got ripped apart in the first Die Hard, and the Predatory beat the hell out of Arnold Schwarzennegar but Arnold and Bruce also fought back.
Rayne just stands there and bleeds. I guess that explains the title.