Van Helsing (DVD)
Starring: Hugh Jackman, Kate Beckinsale
"Written" and "Directed" by: Stephen Sommers

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Rating: 0 (out of 5)

I know, I know. I've been promising this one for a while now. But something was preventing me from popping it into the DVD player. I'm chalking it up to instinct. You know how when you're a kid, and you see that the stove is on? It's a pretty, red coil…but you know better than to put your face to it. You INSTINCTUALLY know it would be bad for you.

Well, I've got a gigantic coil-shaped burn mark on my face right now, and it's because of "Van Helsing".

It's been sitting on my shelf for months. And that entire time, the pungent odor of suck has been wafting from that particular area of the shelf. I thought it might be because it was sitting next to "Garfield: The Movie", but no. It was "Van Helsing", which is now officially my pick for worst movie of the year.

I can sum it up in three words: Piece. Of. Shit. However, you're all used to my 2,000+ word reviews, so here goes…

"I swear, get me out of this movie or I'll shoot you in the face!"

We open in the late 19th century in Transylvania…of course. It would be stupid to think they were setting it in Orange County or something, although they do have their share of vampires, don't they?

As the movie opens - in black and white of course, because this is the "PAST" - Doctor Victor Frankenstein (Samuel West) has just finished his latest experiment. By the way, the doctor part? As it turns out, he's just an orthodontist. Not a lot of people know that. Anyway, his latest "experiment" is coming to life, which we know because he parrots the oft-quoted line "He's alive…ALIVE!" Except for the fact that when Colin Clive did it in 1931, it was good. And when this dork does it, he's got all the excitement of a man about to announce to his dinner guests that the roast should be just about ready.

Now, I love the various incarnations of Frankenstein's monster. Every time I see one of these movies, I'm hoping - nay, praying - that he'll do a soft shoe number and scream "PUTTIN' ON THE RIIIITTTTHHHH!" Alas, he doesn't in this movie…that would have been too clever.

"Freebird! FREEBIRD!!! "

Of course, the local townsfolk seem to know what Dr. Frankenstein DDS is up to. And, in true Transylvanian style, they've broken out their version of the Welcome Wagon…which turns out to be an angry torch-wielding mob. They're all about community in Transylvania. Of course, this isn't a particularly frightening sight. With all the torches, they kind of look like the crowd at KISS concert when they start playing "Beth".

Inside the castle, the occupants aren't all that worried…possibly because they have no intention of playing "Beth". And good for them, I say. But they've got their own problems. The big one, of course, is that it turns out that Count Dracula (Richard Roxburgh) is actually calling the shots, and he's got his own plans for the Monster (Shuler Hensley). Those plans don't appear to involve taking the Monster to Little League games or Boy Scout Jamborees, so Dr. Frankenstein objects. Then that little twerp Igor (Kevin J. O'Connor) turns on the good doctor, who meets his demise. Fucking hunchbacks…can't trust 'em.

Now somehow, and I'm not sure exactly how this works, the intense father-son (or father-reanimated-corpse-sewn-together-like-a-quilt) bond seems to have formed rather tightly in the 15 or so seconds that the Monster has been alive, and he reacts quite poorly. He grabs the lifeless body of his creator - probably not grasping the irony of the situation - and makes a break for it, angry torch-wielding mob in tow (they're now screaming for someone to start singing "Forever", by the way.)

Sadly, the part of his brain that remembered that wood burned was replaced with a delicious chicken paprikash recipe.

And here's why I just don't trust reanimated corpses. Someone smart would make a break for it and head somewhere safe. However, apparently all the blinking lights and circuits in the Monster's brain (yes, I'm serious) are powered by a Celeron processor instead of the far superior Pentium. Because, while being pursued by a torch-wielding mob, he heads to the WINDMILL MADE OF WOOD. The only way this could be a WORSE move is if he stopped to douse himself in Kerosene first, then erected a big neon sign with an arrow on it that read "Ignite here!" on the side of it…assuming that sign had shoddy wiring.

So whatever, they burn it down, and Dracula and his three wives show up and get really pissed. The wives, by the way, are played by Elena Anaya, Silvia Colloca, and Josie Maran…all known for their Method Acting prowess. And their breasts. These three trollops spend the entire movie dressed like Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, and Jessica Simpson at a Goth bar. We're not sure WHY they're so pissed off that the Monster has burned up in this insurance-fire-waiting-to-happen…but don't worry…it will all be explained in due time. It's a STUPID reason, but it's a reason nonetheless.

Now, if there was any justice in the world, I would have died in that fire as well. But alas, it's just a movie, and we're only about 10 minutes into it. We've got another 2 hours to go. In hindsight, I should have just poured lighter fluid on myself and then lit a fart. It would have been less painful.

We can rebuild him. We have the technology. But, you know, he's kind of a tool, so is it really worth it?

We then go forward exactly one year. And fortunately, the great Scienticians of the world have invented colour film in that time. We're transported to Paris, where the first thing we see is a "wanted" poster with Hugh Jackman's face on it. This is odd, because normally the only place you'd see that is in a personal ad or on the wall at a gay bar. But, in this scenario, it's because he's the titular Van Helsing, and he's considered a murderer. And all because he goes around murdering people. Stupid, isn't it?

In this case, he's tracking Mr. Hyde…of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde infamy. He tracks the big galloot to the top of the Notre Dame Cathedral, not stopping even once to drink in its architectural beauty. They get up to the bell tower, which is mercifully Quasimodo-free…because two hunchbacks in one movie is really one too many. Once up there, they engage in some witty banter, minus the wit.

Where does he get those wonderful toys? Oh, right, prop department.

Now, if the rest of the movie wasn't bad enough, it turns out that Van Helsing is actually Batman. He whips out all manner of ridiculous weapons and gadgets and engages in a ridiculous fight against a CGI enemy that looks like the Hulk, rendered on a Commodore 64. I couldn't have been more stunned by the stupidity of this scene if he had pulled a full set of Ginsu knives and a George Foreman grill out of his coat. He finally sends Hyde plummeting to his death, but Hyde is kind enough to turn into Jekyll in mid-air. This sets up the ONE and ONLY likable part of the movie…Jekyll's look of utter confusion as he "emerges" only to realize that he's a half-second away from being a street-cleaner's overtime pay.

Now let me set this scene for you. Cops show up, and see a dead guy on the ground. It's the middle of the night. A cop looks up, for some stupid reason, at the top of the cathedral. There, a hundred feet up, in the DARKNESS, he sees a vague silhouette. He then screams, "VAN HELSING!!!!!!" Folks, I've come face to face with people I've SLEPT WITH on the STREET and failed to recognize them. Now, to be fair, alcohol was to blame for that, but at the same time, the French do love their wine. If this cop can recognize a vague silhouette of Hugh Jackman's profile in the dark from a hundred feet away, then he's WAY too big a fan.

"I'm like Indiana Jones! But, you know, in a horrible supernatrual movie...so I guess I'm like a combination Indiana Jones and What Lies Beneath..."

So then, Van Helsing is off to Rome. As it turns out, he's part of some ultra-secret church society that sends him all over Europe killing supernatural bad guys. He's like the Vatican's answer to Fox Mulder, but with a homicidal streak. Of course, he whines about being the "most wanted man in Europe", which is a title that I'm sure the real Hugh Jackman isn't all that worried about, ifyouknowwhatImean. And anyway, boo fucking hoo. If you don't like it, quit, you big baby. I can think of at least one policeman in Paris who'd be willing to make you an honest man.

This ultra-secret society is kind of like that special branch of the British secret service that James Bond belongs to. But lamer. Van Helsing then gets his next assignment. Basically, he has to go to Transylvania and kill Count Dracula before a particular family is wiped out. This is so the ancestors of that family can ascend to Heaven. It's pretty much "Saving Private Ryan", if Spielberg ever got really messed up on absinthe and wanted to commit career suicide.

That's not holy water, it's holy vodka. And it's MINE, dammit. I've earned it.

In order to help him, he meets up with Carl (David Wenham), a Friar who basically serves as this movie's version of Q. Except, you know, with lame gadgets and less charm than a frat boy at Mardi Gras. You may recognize him as Faramir from the "Lord Of The Rings" trilogy, so you'd think that he'd know better. But at the same time, he's also been in "Crocodile Hunter: Collision Course", so you know the guy's agent plays "Eenie Meenie Minie Moe" with his scripts. At any rate, he has to accompany Van Helsing to Transylvania to assist in the hunt. This is done for no reason other than to provide "comic relief". And by "comic", I actually mean annoying and unfunny. It's so bad that I get the feeling that the part was written for Jim Belushi, who passed on it.

An aside: I fucking hate Jim Belushi. The wrong Belushi wound up at the Chateau Marmont that night. That's all I'm saying about that.

Van Helsing has to protect Anna (Beckinsale) from these baddies. Her and her family have been fighting baddies for years, and after her brother gets taken out by a werewolf (or, The Wolf-Man for the purposes of this movie, which he ISN'T…) she's the only one left. But she's good at her job. For some reason, the very beautiful Beckinsale seems drawn to shitty movies where she has to kill werewolves and vampires in revealing clothing and high-heeled boots. For the record, I'm all about the revealing clothing and high-heeled boots part, but not so much about the shitty movies part.

This picture is suspiciously close to what happens with me when I see a Kate Beckinsale movie.

And from here it just gets even more stupid and retarded, to the point where if I was anywhere NEAR a silver bullet, wooden stake, or even a blunt object, I'd have just ended my misery right there and then.

Oh "Van Helsing"…I hate you so much. I hate every horrible fucking frame of you. I hope a Wolf Man visits every single person responsible for making this movie, right down to the Craft Services staff.

There are literally so many things I hate about this movie that I'm having trouble figuring out where to begin. So, I'll start with "writer" and "director" Stephen Sommers. This script wasn't so much "written" as it was "birthed". And by "birthed" I mean it must have come from his ass after beer and nacho night at his local bar. He takes some of the greatest literary and golden-age-of-cinema characters of the past and turns them into the cheapest, lamest, most pathetic shadows of their former selves that you could possibly imagine. Bela Lugosi himself could have written a better script…and I'm talking about Bela in his morphine-addicted Ed Wood days.

"Now Dasher, now Dancer, now Prancer and Vixen..."

As far as "directing", well, I guess standing behind a camera and shrugging "whatever" is passing as "directing" these days. The so-called "accents" are the worst I've ever heard in my life. The performances are lousy, the pace is uneven and uninspired, and the CGI…jeebus, the CGI is so sadly pathetic it makes me wonder how this got released in the first place. My WEBSITE looks better than this movie, and I think we all know what a piss-poor web designer I am. Of course, I taught myself in my spare time…what's HIS excuse?

Folks, if you're going to make a movie like this, do some fucking RESEARCH on your source material. SUNLIGHT kills vampires. And just because a fucking cloud passes over the sun, that DOESN'T mean that vampires can come out. They're known as WEREWOLVES…WOLF-MAN was just a fucking title…and besides, the WOLF-MAN was set in the fucking 1940's. And finally, and most infuriating…FRANKENSTEIN WAS THE NAME OF THE FUCKING DOCTOR, NOT THE MONSTER!!!!! THE MONSTER'S NAME IS NOT FRANKENSTEIN! THE MONSTER DOESN'T HAVE A FUCKING NAME! EVERYBODY KNOWS THIS BUT YOU!!!!

"It's never gonna work between us, Drac...you're just so transparent. It's like I can see right through you."

But it's even worse than that. In his "lab", Carl talks about some stupid thing he invented that has the power of the sun. Yet, as he says, he made it but didn't know what it was for. It just sort of "came" to him, I guess. And then, he goes on a vampire hunt…STILL unsure what this device is for. A brain-damaged pot-bellied pig can figure this out, but it's a total mystery to our genius inventor.

And then, the WORST offense is that during the climax, two things need to happen. ONE needs to happen AFTER the "first stroke of midnight", and the other has to happen BEFORE the "final stroke of midnight". I had no idea that "midnight" was actually 12 "strokes" long (insert dirty joke here). But apparently it is. That's bad enough. But making matters worse, apparently the 12 "strokes" of midnight last about 10 fucking minutes, and that's taking "movie time" into consideration. This, folks, goes beyond sloppy writing and directing. THIS is a blatant disregard for the intelligence of the audience. It's the act of a writer, director, and studio heads who literally say "You know what? The fucking idiots who are going to pay to watch this piece of shit are too stupid to realize it. Fuck them."

"THIS is my BOOM-STICK!"

"Van Helsing" is worse that a movie that caters to the lowest common denominator. It's a movie made by people who assume that the lowest common denominator are all functionally retarded. Not even the special features on the DVD can save this…after all, they're special features that try and dress up a turd as chocolate mousse. The bloopers were funny, sort of, but even then, Hugh Jackman seems like he's incredulous that he's there and that he's making such a terrible movie.

Plus, during one outtake, he asks for a cigarette as Kate Beckinsale is straddling his neck. Folks, if Kate Beckinsale is straddling MY neck, SHE'S going to be the one asking for a cigarette…but not for at least 20 minutes.

Ah, the corset. The must-have wardrobe item for ALL undead-fighters this year.

Not only am I panning this movie, I'm going to go on the record and say that it's one of the worst movies I've ever had the misfortune to see. I could go on for another 2000 words, but I'm already going way too long. It's worse than "Gigli", worse than "From Justin To Kelly", and worse than "Soul Plane". Nobody associated with it, outside the cast, should ever be allowed to work again. Not even as telemarketers. Sommers and whatever Universal suit that green-lit this piece of shit should spend the rest of their lives begging for change and cleaning windows on street-corners. That's the only way they'll learn.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to go douse myself in lighter fluid and light a fart. The resulting light show will be more entertaining, and on the plus side, I'll never have to think about "Van Helsing" again.

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