Obsolete Sheet: K-9000 (1991)

K-9000 (TV 1991)

Director: Kim Manners
Writers: Michael Part, Steven E. de Souza
Starring: Chris Mulkey, Catherine Oxenberg, Dennis Haysbert, and Jerry Houser (as the voice of ‘Niner’)

A policeman and a female scientist team up to recover her latest creation, a cybernetic, crime-fighting dog.

The cop-dog buddy movie (Turner and Hooch, K-9, this dreck) is a much-maligned, underappreciated? genre of filmmaking magic that seems not to have made it into the new millennium. Perhaps there is a lost innocence in our willingness to believe our stars (Hanks, Belushi etc.) and their quadrupedal best friends solving urban crimes in the era of suicide planes and biological warfare. But who better to sniff out dirty bombs than man’s best friend? Maybe we just need a gritty Bourne Identity-style techno-update. In the best cop-dog film, these canine pals become closer than a human partner, true confidantes that will take a bullet for ya and still hump your leg.

And then there’s this movie (speaking of dirty bombs, look out, ahem!). I didn’t have the good fortune to tune in from the very beginning. But when I did, I couldn’t look away. Mulkey (the abusive trucker husband of Shelley the waitress on Twin Peaks) plays a mulleted crude boozer LA cop in the Gibson/Russell vein (minus 75% personality) who is forced to partner with glamorous Euro cyber-scientist (Oxenberg) to get to the baddy weapons-smugglers that left his black human partner (Haysbert) in a coma.

When I tuned in, they were infiltrating a top-secret lab bunker in which the “K-9000” project sat in a mysterious box. Oxenberg explains it’s a special technology that involves microchip communication between specially-rigged ‘cyber-dogs’ and computer dispatchers. Only problem? During a shoot-out in the lab, the cyber-dog (German Shepherd) bursts out of his saran-wrap prematurely, and the cyberchip receiver somehow winds up in the loser cop’s head. (sorry-didn’t catch how).

So anyhoo, the cop wakes up holding a bottle of Jack in his beach cabana, with the dog staring at him inquisitively. He starts hearing voices – specifically a nebbishy Jewish voice-over asking him how he is feeling and if he would like help with his investigation. Holy shit! The dog is still talking to him, and his fucking mouth doesn’t move. (cyber-telepathy, natch) After the requisite throwing the bottle down and trying to sleep it off, the dog keeps hassling him (and won’t fetch balls, since it’s ‘canine’ brain area was removed for the chip.) Taking it in stride, it’s now a Knight Rider deal and the cop reluctantly grows to rely on the dog’s techno-skills (like clearing an outside line on a payphone.)

It all winds up on Catalina Island (the fucking wine mixer!) where they track the baddy smugglers to the top of a tower and K-9000 pushes that Euro son-of-a-bitch right off to save Mulkey, dangling from the edge. Partner comes out of coma, Mulkey and Oxenberg recline on the beach, and K-9000 (in sunglasses) remembers how to fetch balls- and suck them. This film might have killed the cop-dog movie for good after all. Only time will tell?

For a flashier version (w/clips, posters & ads!) please see The Obsolete Sheet.

OBSOLETE SHEET: VHS REVIEWZ

I watchd these in a Long Beach warehouse so you didn't hafta--

‘MEET WALLY SPARKS’

1997, Dir. P. Baldwin

The horror. There are some things in life you can’t ‘unsee,’ and rocketing up my personal list is the spectacle of a middle-aged Cindy ‘Shirley Feeney’ Williams romping in her under-things as a pale Rodney Dangerfield bangs out the ivories during his badly lip-synched rendition of Bob Seger’s ‘Old Time Rock n’ Roll.’ This misplaced ‘Risky Business’ homage is merely one in a series of disturbing scenes in this bottom-of-the-barrel Rodney vehicle.

Wally Sparks is a notorious Morton Downey/Jerry Springer ‘shock-jock’ who infuriates TV censors and his network boss (briefly, Burt Reynolds) by hosting women in lacy lingerie, and making stale Rodney jokes on the air. From the cabbie cameo of Tony Danza in an obviously not-NYC, you know you’re in for a bumpy ride. Also- hope you enjoyed the beginning glimpse of lingerie, as there are NO more good-looking people in this movie. Through a series of wacky events, Rodney (I mean Wally) winds up crashing a party at the mansion of his main foil, a sanctimonious Southern politician played by David Ogden ‘Winchester’ Stiers, as only Wally can (drunk - on horseback). Then, either due to plot or necessity, Wally is stuck wheelchair-bound at the mansion, convalescing as the Governor’s wife (Williams) and her socialite friends must deal with his crude Rodney-ness. Oh yeah- Wally’s son and the Gov’s daughter (played by 2 blocks of wood) fall in love, Wally serves the Gov a hilarious on-air comeuppance, and we witness scene after scene of really badly executed ‘comic’ chases and musical setpieces described above.

It’s hard to feel any ill will toward Rodney for this inept dreck, but viewer beware. This is no ‘Back To School.’ Just because Rodney called in some favors with his pals, doesn’t mean you have to waste 90 minutes of pain on it. I’m doing alright now- Last week I was in rough shape though.

‘OUT FOR JUSTICE’

1991, Dir. J. Flynn

“I’m lookin’ for Richie.” This is Steven Seagal’s mantra in this largely entertaining Brooklyn-set cop out for vengeance vehicle. Richie (William Forsythe), ya see, was Seagal’s childhood buddy from the ‘old neighborhood’; only he turned into a bad egg; first with The Mob, then as a loose cannon druggie murderer on a bloody rampage. His most recent victim is Seagal’s partner. Only one man can take him down. As Seagal demands from his chief (Jerry Orbach), ‘give me a sawed-off and an unmarked and I’ll take care of it.’

Seagal’s cop must go deep into his Brooklyn (Toronto) roots, sorting the truth from the Mean Streets. Along the way, we get butcher-shop baddies, stereotypical Mob cronies, Gina Gershon, Mary Mastrantonio, and plenty of fake I-talian talk from the star. It all culminates when Seagal finally finds Richie (his White Whale) and engages in a mano-a-mano face-off in a house of ill-repute. Is there any body who can do martial-arts above the waist any better?

‘RIPPER’ AKA “FEAR CITY’

1984, Dir. A. Ferrara

Here’s an OK seedy Abel Ferrara thriller with a glimpse of the real pre-Giuliani NYC, and more than a glimpse of Melanie Griffith’s boobies. It’s a modern take on ‘Jack-the-Ripper’ (ever heard of it?) as a psychopathic stalker hunts Times Square strippers. Tom Berenger and Jack Scalia play The Rossi Bros., two brothers running a stripper-placement agency, forced to deal with the extinction of their talent. Oh yeah, Berenger has some kind of history with Griffith.

Along the way, we get nice Times Square flavor, pseudo Taxi Driver psycho purification training and the aforementioned boobies. Berenger must get involved again to protect his old flame, who has a nagging junk-habit from back in the day. The climax in a dark alley is a bit of a let-down (he knows karate) but still recommended.

‘GRIZZLY’ aka 'CLAWS'

1976, Dir. W. Girdler

More than one of the best ‘Jaws’ knockoffs out there. (This time-he’s a bear!) Christopher George plays an increasingly frustrated Roy Scheider-like Park Ranger (Son-of-a Bitch!) must deal with a murderous monster Grizzly on the loose. From the bear POV shots as it lops off heads and limbs of bathing beauties in glorious orange blood to the priceless dialogue, this is one to remember.

The ‘Jaws’ dynamic carries into the hero/authority dynamic and unnecessary backstory of our protagonist. “I’m out here making these woods a part of me, while you’re going back to your brown plastic office in Warshington!” our ranger tells the local ambitious politican. For the Richard Dreyfuss flair, we get an eccentric bear expert who lives among the forest creatures and can think like them. And then there’s the jaded local cokehead helicopter pilot, the last friend our ranger’s got. Together, this triumvirate must put a stop to the Grizzliness as only they know how. Two paws up, girlfriend.