Juinor (aka Hot Water) (aka A Cut Above) (aka How many titles does this thing have?)

By I. Alexander Nash

  It's been many years since the classic film Deliverance posed one engaging question to America, and through it's success, the rest of the world:  If you had a choice to rape Burt Reynolds or Ned Beatty, would you pick Beatty!?!  I mean I understand Beatty was weak and it was all about preying on that weakness, but young, shirtless and fucking chiseled Burt!?!  Gay or not you rape that dude!  I mean I'm not gay or anything.  Just ask my girlfriend...wait...on second thought.  Maybe you ask...ah...my...mom?  Yeah talk to her, she'll back me up.  She's my mom....I'm not gay alright.  Where was I?  Oh yeah, hardcore raping Burt Reynolds.  First I tussle his wet comb-over and see him for who he truly is.  He doesn't need to put heirs on for me.  He's beautiful just the way he...okay, after receiving a text from my girlfriend I need to kill this whole line of thinking...for now.  Deliverance was a huge success and helped create the genre of Hicksploitation.  Many entries in this genre have been created and disappeared over the years.  You have your Backwoods from 1987, Hunter's Blood from 1986 and of course the superior Best Little Whore House in Texas from 1982.  God, did Burt look great in the that Sheriff's hat.  Man I'd love too...moving on.  Canada was not exempt from this genre.  Canada did their own share of tar and feathering with movies like 1982's Trapped and with the Canada staffed but Texas shit, I mean shot Junior (aka Hot Water aka A Cut Above).

I want to listen to Air Supply and sip Chablis with this box art

   This movie is one of video store lore so to speak.  Released primarily as Junior in the states, it was toted as a supreme horror film with it's Jason/Freddy bashing on the cover as well as it's chainsaw wielding star buzzing right through the fucking cover.  God, you have to miss 80's video box art.  The giant balls these marketing companies had to try to sell you something they knew god damn well was not the movie in their beautifully designed package is worth the price of the rental alone.  Junior is no exception.  They packaged it as slasher (with absolutely no still shots on the back might I add) when in all honesty this is a Hicksploitation film through and through.  When sold in other territories as Hot Water, you get exactly that.  Bountiful breasts and explosive action don it's cover.  Well maybe the action part is bullshit, but the bountiful part is right on the nose.

Vixen album cover or vhs art.  You be the judge.

  I don't know where the hell this thing was sold as A Cut Above.  It's even listed as it's title on IMDB and most of the internet.  The only place I've seen that title is as a splash line on the Junior box.  The internet is never wrong about any of it's facts.  I'll just chock this one up as the internet's first ever mistake.  IMDB can't  be wrong, right?  I know the film in it's cut form as Junior and will be discussing this version as I don't have enough time nor give a shit to bother to ever find an uncut copy of this movie.  In the video explosion era of history, this movie would taunt me from the mislabeled horror shelf.  Junior's soft psychotic buggy eyes seem to call to you, "Come forth young squire and find a new horror icon." As it turns out, I was lied to by Junior that two timing tobacco chewing fiend.  He just wanted to fuck me as a horror film but he was really engaged to be married to Hicksploitation this whole time.  Burt wouldn't dare pull that shit on me.

Andy Sidaris assistant buys a new pair of pants

  The film was shot in English but apparently had shitty sound as the actors are all dubbed.  And it's not quite like Italian film's Nick Alexander dubbing, but more like Indonesian Lady Terminator dubbing.  Odd.  We start with the title song "Hot Water," played over a very cheap video title card which obviously was not it's original.  Plus the song is too much of a good time song.  This thing could have played in the film Up the Creek and no one would be the wiser.   A couple of Whitesnake groupies/whores (which is basically synonymous) get released from the set of The Destroyer only to run into their ex-pimp.  After literally exploding his nose with a coke spoon, the gals steal the pimps wheels and show us how sassy two 1980's ex-prostitutes can be by stopping an attempted rape with nothing more than a bathtub in the middle of a working garage filled with slop.  The Macks special stable decide they need a new line of work and a less coked up costumer.  Seemingly out of fucking nowhere they decide to go straight and do what all modern ladies of the night do when their time to leave their profession comes, open a marina?  I mean after all old Lita Ford over here did take that mechanics class in prison.  Immediately after taking over this dilapidated lake shore house, the girls are harassed by the local Dukes of Hazzard cosplay club.

The perks of being Winger's security

   This is where we are introduced to our star, Junior.  Very rarely in film history have we been introduced to a main character mid-coitus as Junior comes barreling through their front door with his dick firmly implanted (while wearing overalls the whole time.  still haven't figured this one out) in what appears to be a leftover extra from Roadhouse.

Jerry O'Connell selects a new bride

   Turns out Junior, the sheriff and the whole town are out to get them for being the whores that they are, even though they are a way higher quality whore than any of their local whores.  Why step in the way of whore progress in your town?  First you get a McDonalds.  Then you get a Wallmart and a Pizza Hut.  Then you get a more upper class of whores.  This is how the economy works people!  Junior gets dunked into the drink damaging the only part of his brain untouched by that bathtub crank, i.e. his ego.  Junior seems to have a very Norman Bates like relationship with that 20 kid from tech support dressed up as an old woman representing his mother.  Why is it in a lot of these exploitation movies do they always throw a powdered wig on some young, dumb, and to top it off male actor to play old women?  Kinda like throwing the baby out with the bathwater and then squashing it with the whole bathtub.

Ike you've made your Mother very proud

  This is where the real action begins as this is where this movie turns into a huge tittyfest.  I mean so many pointless nude scenes, and even in the midst of action there are always, and I do stress always, close ups of this girls ass. Man I've seen this girls ass more than my own at this point.  This cinematographer really knows what he's doing.  Further on into the thing one of the girls meets an aquaphobic botanist who lives on a houseboat that is literally a Semi trailer roped onto a couple of pontoons.  Man is this guy swift.  He plays guitar AND he had the same pain tolerance surgery in Darkman as Junior rips a fish hook right out of the guys hand with no response whatsoever.  Where do I sign up? I mean he's no Burt Re....stop it!  Stop it!  I don't wanna wear the dress mommy!  Who was I again?  Right, movie reviewer.

That girls ass...plus leaches

   Where I get lost in this movie is Junior's attitude towards the whole kitten caboodle.  Apparently he is trying to impress his mother with his property destruction and his many attempted rapes.  Aw that rascal Junior. I guess it's the same mother from the Charles Kaufman film Mother's Day.  Problem is you put Junior in a street fight with Ike from Mother's Day and I take 4 to 1 odds on Ike any day of the damn week.  It really never gives a reason why this guy is basically one of the characters from I Spit on Your Grave.  I guess it's the same reason as in that film, he's just a regular dumb shit old redneck.  Dumb shit or not, he does have a great parlor trick by consuming a long neck, bottle and all.  Slow witted Junior continues to fuck with the trio (the whores invite one of Junior's victims to join their coven) relentlessly always asking his mother for acceptance and approval.  Ah I see.  I guess this was the base story for Forrest Gump.   They should write "Based on the Winston Groom book" on the video sleeve.  It'll help those sorts of issues out.

My momma always says that I have magic raping legs

    Probably the most exciting scene in this movie happens when the girls get their high performance speed boat out on the lake, only to be surrounded by Junior and company (a possible sequel title for Coscarelli's Kenny and Co.  Don I have a phone that rings.  I'm just saying).  This whole thing is starting to play out like an evil Meatballs 3.  Hold on...yep, shot on the same set.  What do ex-prostitutes do when surrounded on a speed boat by several dingys in.dingys?  They do what any whores/Hollywood actresses/bikini models/Hooter's waitresses/strippers (again all synonymous) would do.  Why you make a Molotov cocktail with your soaking wet bikini top and a handy 40 oz Coors bottle filled with gasoline, that's what you do.  Oh Patrick Dempsey, you had it so wrong brother.  You didn't need the ghost of Sally Kellerman at all.

Still from the new parody porn film "Ramboob"

  It's a whole back and forth situation until I'd say the last 20 minutes when their dog, who was specifically introduced to be killed, is killed.  I can't really say it was the dog or even Junior's actions.  I prefer to think Rowlf the piano playing Muppet was having a hard time balancing out that Seroquel prescription. Junior is at his wit end and proceeds to take a chainsaw to the house for ten minute scene of destruction culminating in a very phallic display chainsawery.  The sheriff finally takes an interest when they find desiccated corpses in the boat house.  He must be up for reelection.

Chainsawery!  It's a word.  Look it up

  The final straw for the Bangles is when Junior's intended rape victim shows up dead and Bud, one of the boyfriends, gets dragged away by a boat and a noose combo...did I forget to tell you about Bud earlier?  Well, you see how much that character registered on my radar.  With one girl left at the house and one girl on the hunt, Junior's last stand comes as he tries to burn down what the producers of the film called a house.  Through trickery and chicanery the girls trap Junior in a net ala the Ewoks on Endor.  Nets were all the rage in 1984.  What we are given at the end is actually a surprise, it's a switcharoo.  I can honestly say I didn't see it coming.  I mean yes in a plodding sort of way it's not unexpected, but for them to even try to pull the switcharoo at the end is the unexpected part.  I figured dispatch Junior, movie over.  They attempt to actually do something at all.  Congrats guys Dom Perignon on me.  It's been the sheriff the whole time.  It's strange that in this movie you spend the whole time hating this white trash river rat and they actually have the balls to try to give Junior some sympathy at the end.  It doesn't work but the attempt is much appreciated.  Momma becomes the ultimate savior running in with shotguns blazing.  Quite literally blazing as she sets the whole fucking house on fire engulfing herself, her son and a few dead bodies including the shotgun blasted sheriff.

Nice work fuzzball

  Im surprised about the downer ending for this thing.  All the boyfriends die.  All the villains die.  All emo kids pretending to be old women die.  In fact, everyone who comes in contact with these two die.  Christ those are some cursed whores.  The sheriff was right the whole time.  Those girls really were trouble.  No one comes outta this thing smelling of roses.  The weirdest curve ball this movie throws at you at the end are two just depressed ex-whores riding off on a home made houseboat while the extremely upbeat song "Hot Water" reprises.  I don't really know how to feel about this.  How do you feel when you go in feeling Gorp, go out feeling Bellflower, and then left with the title track from King Frat?  I'm a little frightened.  It's very rare when I don't have an opinion on a movie.  Am I broken or is this movie.  Was it great?  No.  Was it terrible?  No.  Was it entertaining?  Not really.  Was it boring?  Not really.  I guess the only thing I can equate this movie with is like that funeral you had for your pet fish Burt when you were a kid.  It's not that you were sad.  It's not that you were happy.  You just kind of....were.  Wait a minute.  Is this what that Smashing Pumpkins album was talking about all along?

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Marble Madness the movie!!!

by I. Alexander Nash

 
  In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.  At some point after that is when he created Nightmare Weekend....fuck that bitch, truthfully, fuck that dude.  Released by the crew at Troma (released by Troma, not made by Troma) this 1986 horror(?) film may be the cinema equivalent of herpes simplex 2.  It's not so much because it's a "bad" movie as much as it is as absolutely senseless as the Marlon Waynes movie of the same name.  Yeah I might actually eat razor blades later for referencing Senseless.  Or I might just let the inevitable happen and let David Spade rape me to death.  Either one.  I know this one has made it on many "worst of lists," but fuck, it honestly needs to be burned to a shade darker than Ryan Dunn's lifeless corpse.  I might even be missing vital information about this movie such as running out of money, change of directors or even utter incompetence; but none of that means a good God damn when none of the final footage could work in any situation or film.  Well, maybe it could work if it was only used to torture Alex Delarge.  A bit about the flickering stupidity that is Nightmare Weekend.

British VHS Cover

                                                                   
  Oh shit, is that a fucking hand puppet?  First thing off eh?  You're going to start your movie with a hand puppet using a computer to kill two biker youths?  Not advised.  I can tell there was no Kissenger available for this film.  It's going to be a rough ride.  Rougher than the ride Ryan Dunn made...ok, put out the torches.  I get the hint.  Now someone give me a fire extinguisher for my scrotum.  You know who else could have used a fire extinguisher one night?  Ok, shutting up now.  The movie begins disorienting and never rescues itself from there on in.  Apprently there is a mustachioed scientist who lives in a badass mansion with his super computer named Apache.  He has an evil assistant (no shit, she looks like Martin Kove in a wig) who has invited a bunch of sorority sluts to his house to test his new computer program.

Cobra Kai!!!

                                                                        
  Why he lets these college broads into his house is beyond me.  Plus, his daughter, who is of the same age but not freinds with the other girls(?), comes to visit and talk to her friend George.  Yes George is the god damn hand puppet.  No mention why George can move or talk on his own, but he sure has some great tech support skills as he can operate the house computer system.  Her and George like to play Pole Position sometimes, which also controls surrounding vehicles.  Yeah, I know your lost at this point but I am too.  Just pretend you've snorted a whole ton of Molly and let it wash over you like an episode of Joanie Loves Chachi.

Hey! He's gotta hand under there!  It's a hoax!

                                 
   The computer wiz has created a program that can turn watches into pinballs that blow loads in your mouth and do all sorts of that mind control business we've read about in Tea Party literature; the vomiting, the need to kill, and the need for health insurance plus liveable wage.  The only true use for this technology is apparently turning dog food into Bohdai from Solarbabies and rendering Cujo into Benji.  The cast of Slumber Party Massacre gets picked up in the house limo only to be detoured at the only functioning business in town, a bar that serves beer and soda.  Robert Burke bangs...wait Robert fucking Burke!?!  Well that's a new low in a career.  I think I would have preferred to make my movie debut in porn than this trite shit.  After entering the bar and meeting four dudes decked out in white like Boyz 2 Men, The Dust Devil bangs some random bar slut on top of a pinball machine to show his anger.  What exactly is the movies obsession with pinballs?  Was the director's mother Jodi Foster in The Accused? 

I thought your ninjas took care of Robocop?

                                    
  The girls hook up with the Moody Blues and invite them to go to the mansion with them for the sheer purpose of sex.  Man do I miss the 80's.  People where willing to share all sorts of diseases with you.  You could also easily pick up the female cast of Just One of the Guys with the simple addition of a Hardrock Zombies edition Jesse white one piece pant suit.  Diamond Dave Lee Roth would be very proud.  After a flat tire excuse fuck scene, all interested parties make it to the house, and so the real fun begins.  Ok, that was one big lie, which I do a lot.  It makes me feel like a big man, or movie producer.  There's nothing fun about this movie.  Nothing cute or interesting.  It's about as cute as the Circle of Shit from Salo.  Christ even the hand puppet seems more appealing at this point.  Certainly a lot more animated than any of the rest of the cast.  The movie gets more and more muddled as it progresses.  The dad from Pet Sematary shows up (decked out all in white too might I add) to give the daughter in the story something to do.  Sure, he's on a quest to find out what happened to his dead biker brother, but mainly just so the daughter has a subplot to follow as the teens in peril motif seems to not be working.  People meander through this story going back an forth to BAR over and over again.  Rejected cast members from The Prowler dance and romance these ladies through a full 40 minutes of screen time.  It almost seems like a tv ad for 50 Great Romance Tunes for only $9.99...with Barry Manalow singing Mandy.

Featuring Christopher Cross-Arthur's Theme (The Best That You Can Do)

   Bored?  God I hope so.  I'm bored with writing this dreck.  The movie is only interested in dudes trying (And I do mean trying as it takes them a god damn hour to get anywhere) to get laid and George the puppet doing his best "Danger Will Robinson" voice.  This whole plot of an under cutting assistant trying to sell Magnum P.I.s computer program simply isn't working nor does it ever pay off.  They tend to meander all over the place never allowing the audience to really get a grip on anything.  All men in this thing are only interested in sex.  Whether that character is merely trying to bang or is a rapist is up to wardrobe.  Pretty much all the women are only interested in teasing men or being complete slam hounds.  The only woman not interested in getting all holes filled, is the evil assistant....no wait I remember, she tried to bang the dad.  The flaccid (much like Louis Creed here's acting) relationship plot of the daughter and biker in white is not enough to support a film.  Shit, they don't even have any chemistry.  The whole thing goes Chernobyl in the last 20 minutes with the explosion of Officer Murphy's face, the inclusion of melting mutant make-ups, some brief stalk and slash action and the only screen death due to panty sniffing in the history of film.

Sloth Love Chunk!

  This whole thing is a fucking disaster.  Worse than that it's boring as...well...every Ron Howard movie ever.  They never explain the purpose of any of this nor do they pay off any of the proceeding plot ideas.  It just sits there like a turd in the middle of the table during your first Christmas dinner with your fiancee parents.  It's like Mary in Last House on the Left.  It just lays there and takes it.  In summary I'd like to say that I'm very sorry that Troma studios is falling on hard times with the way the film business is these days, but Mary fuck the maker they almost deserve it for still making this particular film available for viewing at all.  Put me out of my misery.  Give me a pair of your panties, I wanna go kill myself.

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I bent my R.O.T.O.R.

By I. Alexander Nash

   Mother fucking dumb shits!  I finally thought I had made my way out of this very confusing ass cube of destruction that I call life.  Sure, many things can look like tragedies, but turn out to be opportunities.  The Japanese have a word for it..I believe it's..パンティ販売機.  Although I could be very wrong about this as I do not speak Japanese.  Like none.  Like you do.  Ok then, who the fuck do you think you are!?!  Mr. I'm so special just cause I can speak a foreign language!  Why don't you just go read your Mango and...way off topic.  I had some problems throughout the last six months, but in turn those problems caused me to experience one great joy.  No shitty fucking movies.  What a sweet life those poor starving Somalian children have.  A care free life with no Charles Band.  These people don't even have a clue who Claudio Fragasso is...or running water, sanitation or God for that matter.  Man do they have it great.  They just get to sit around chewing on bull penis and dreaming about a day when they might not be in constant danger because of their totalitarian government.  What a fucking sweet life man.  Meanwhile I'm stuck in an air conditioned room in my underwear forcing myself to watch the worst shit on earth.   Who did I piss off?  Why do I live this life?  Ah that's right, the sins.

  I blame corporate America, that's who I blame.  If it wasn't for all those fancy big wigging corporations, there would be no need to always be releasing new products for the fatted ants called Americans.  On the same hand there would be no need to re-release old products again.  And on the other hand (a completely different hand this time.  it's not the same hand that the other two things were on.  i mean that's a lot to have on one hand.  i have two hands so i should be able to make this point as well) there would be no need to re-release god damn public domain movies on massive fucking box sets that I cannot resist.  It's like 60 movies for five bucks.  One of them is at least worth it. It's a fucking crime.  It really is a crime. 

  This weeks cinema war crime is something that really should have been taken to the VHS Nuremberg trails and hung till it's legs stop jittering and kicking.  R.O.T.O.R has recently been released on a multidisc public domain box set for the low low price of $8.99.  Seems like a lot, but hear me out Van Gogh.  It's a 50 movie value pack with some actual real winners.  Ok that's a bold faced lie, but at least they are interesting buys as most of them are unavailable in dvd format.  I bought it for the excellently bad Italian Terminator/Over the Top rip off film Hands of Steel.  A real find on dvd, or any format for that matter.  Other rarities include:  Don Dohler's Alien Factor, John Sayles' Brother from Another Planet, Hundra, Robo Vampire, Dedadato's Raider's of Atlantis, Charles Band's The Day Time Ended,  and many more...oh and forgot Trumpy is there as well, so you know that spells quality.  Plenty more, but in no way noteworthy to list here..for now.  But for now, more on the back alley botched abortion that is R.O.T.O.R.

  From even back in the day i remember the movie poster/box art for this film.  It's a nice little bit of American exploitation art work at it's finest.  I'm pretty sure the Terminator fucked the Exterminator and shit out Mad Max.  Whoa daddy is that shit enticing.  I'm prepared to see something, and I don't want to jinx it, but just a little bit, you know, (whispering) special.  We are given the usual text crawl of all these future fuck films.  The crawl that tells us it's the future so there are still crazy gangs and the world is in upheaval.  Fine, wordy but fine.  The movie immediately throws us into the plot with a corpse and a guy..wait that's not our hero is it?  Surely no..nope it's our hero.  I for one cannot unify under a man in a western shirt, a nicotine aged face and a Richard Lynch mullet circa 1981.  Once some scenery is digested and well regurgitated, we are given the Blade Runner treatment with narration that is just way too impressed with itself.  We discuss philosophy, robotics, the proper way to pull off someone trying pull off the Clint Eastwood look.  We flashback to where it all began and the most annoying robot since that fucking Beba-1 from Message from Space.  And did I just hear that robotic dick say fucking Jeepers!?!

It turns out R.O.T.O.R. is a project title standing for Robotic Offensive Tactical Oedipus Robot or something.  We have a board meeting where we discuss the plot of Robocop and show off the amazing endoskeleton which I'm pretty sure is a lightly modified Micronaut figure...and how exactly do you make a skeleton look dumpy?  That's a feat.  The very special effects come to life in a sequence I'm sure is making Ray Harryhaussen roll over in his grave.  Look, I've been waiting 80 fucking years to use that reference and shit I'm going to use it warm bodies be damned!  We find out that our hero's name is Coldyron...wait...COLD-IRON!  Your fucking action hero's name is a like a dagger of ice stabbed into my fucking chest.  Almost like very cold steel.  Mostly like a cold iron ba...ah I see.  I get it now.  Fuck you movie!  Fuck you!  After a conversation with Caldaron's boss (and let me say this guy has the worst topee since Nicolas Cage in...well anything) we find out that politicians are all cocksuckers, redtape, budget crisis, what is consensual sex anyway type guys.  No new news there.  The project is being sped up and Ironclad only has a month to turn his Micronaut into a terrifying Asimov nightmare.

  Of course that's not enough time for Pig Iron to make an Eliminator or even an American Cyborg Steel Warrior for that matter.  He gets so mad that he quits, storms out and yells at Jason Statham.  Problem is, none of this really matters anyway.  The whole project is fucked when an guy claiming to be an Indian has a racial debate (and by that I do mean racist) and leaves his head phones on the project table.  Now I've seen Bananarama drive some people ape shit before, but this is fucking ridiculous.  So it really doesn't even matter the dude quit or the project was sped up.  The whole thing goes flubber anyway.  Really though, I tuned out long before this so I could be completely wrong.  But if my memory serves me like a waitress at Deny's, the robot just wakes up and gets going.  Literally it was, I'm bored so I'll check email; to hey look at the fat robot!  The guy they've got decked out in the leathers was possibly a security guard at Baskin Robbins previous to this.  And who the fuck puts a mustache on a robot!?!  Does he have mustache powers?  Cause if he does, that would be pretty fucking sweet.  Mustache powers it is then, but that thing better melt faces like the ark.  The fat bothers me though.  Why would anyone craft the Burgernator?  Why make your robot easily stopped by a tight space...and not even that tight?  As it turns out, the robot was still in it's infant stage (jesus how fucking fat does he get) and only has the reptilian part of his brain.  It has no emotion, no feelings, no will power when it comes to the Ryan's family style full buffet...with a large sweet tea and optional dessert bar.

  It immediately starts acting like a dick after pulling over it's first car; so it pretty much acts like every cop ever.  He blasts the dude and goes on a tepid pursuit of dudes girlfriend for a minor traffic violation.  I guess the film makers had seen Manic Cop as well.  Ironfist is back on the case!  I'll just glaze over the 15 minutes of him trying to get laid with his impressive arm length steaks and murdering a man with vigilante style justice.  We will never speak of it again actually.  Just like that summer you stayed with your uncle and left psychologically scarred.  Psychologically being code for anally that is.  Old action paunch chases the scared young girl into a diner for your best chance of action in this film.  I'm ready for destruction...or a sequence where the restaurant set remains intact!  This is as disappointing as my college graduation.  I understand at times the film makers are having a go at us with the subject matter and really just trying to have fun, but this is just turning into I Spit in Your Face.  At least give me some sex, some explosions!  Instead I get the wrestler character from Santa Sangre.  After what seems like an eternity of chase scenes and poorly choreographed fight scenes,  Blood and Iron calls in a "consultant" to take on Roblob.  It's Pat steps off a plane and tells us she's the muscles of this operation and also is rocking the little seen in the wild, Skunk Mullet.

  I don't know who this broad is or how he knows her and I simply don't care.  I stopped paying attention long ago and that Adderall is a mighty far distance being 6 inches away.  All we know is we've got a dyke body builder with no tits and she's here to crush R.O.T.O.R.'s fat gut like a pinata.  The final sequence of this film is bar none the dullest end action scene to any movie with the exception of Enchanted April.  We have the muscle tranny pretend to be thwarted by Robese, while...I don't know...Jeremy Irons(?) does his famous trick the primer cord one two.  Without a doubt after this is all over you'll be able to say that once in your life you were able to see a man lasso a robot for the win.  Probably the only robot to be drawn and quartered in a movie as well...so points there I guess.  The amber like molasses pace of this movie is astounding.  Rarely do things happen and when they do they are never spectacular.  They honestly have the balls to quote fucking Milton in this shit.  At what point did you think you were making quality entertainment.  Gotta use that literature degree somewhere.  And it turns out it's all for not as Coldyron get's the shotgun treatment from the government.  Right to the back, gunned down like Old Yellar's less respected brother Off White.  Fuck me.  I'd rather go back to my dead end job and boring life.  Death is preferable to this shit.  The one thing I will give R.O.T.O.R is the casting.  That is the only cyborg cop in film history who's fat fucking frame would perfectly blend in with any of the nations finest on patrol right now.