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Outtakes
(1987)
Director: Jack M. Sell
Cast: Jack M. Sell, Forrest
Tucker, and the future bathroom attendants
of America
Editor's note: Several years ago, before starting this
web page, I had one of the worst experiences of my life. An experience
that haunts me even today.
That experience was when I watched the movie Outtakes.
A
movie so bad, it made The Sex O'Clock News look like Kentucky
Fried Movie.
When I started this page, I knew that somehow I had to let people
know just how bad it was, to save them from a potential hell. But I couldn't
make myself rent the movie again, to relive that nightmare. Fortunately,
my friend Michael Sullivan volunteered to risk everything so that the public
may know and be warned. For that, I salute him. Here is his review of Outtakes.
By Michael Sullivan
Hey! I have an idea. Let's take a trip into the very depths of Comedy
Hell. Let's go past Beverly Hills Ninja, past the brain melting
Jeff Altman vehicle Doin' Time, past everything Mark Pirro
has ever done, and enter the 9th circle of comedic Hell, Outtakes.
For the past couple of years I've seen every possible rip-off of The
Groove Tube. While most of them are hit or miss and have their
fair share of unfunny moments, I never thought I could despise any of these
films - that is, until I saw Outtakes.
Well, it can't be all bad, can it ? Let's put it this way; imagine a
comedy starring Tom Arnold, Pauly Shore, Joe Piscopo, Rosie O Donnell,
Murray Langston, and for good measure, let's throw in talented (as in he
was a talented costume designer) director Joel Schumaker, and Outtakes
would still be twice as bad as that film. (In case you're wondering about
the mystery film above, it would be about wacky firefighters and the title
would be Fireballs!)
Anyway Runny Dog Turd: The Movie begins with a dedication
to Forrest Tucker. Which I'm sure his spirit was ecstatic over being memorialized
in this "comedic masterpiece". Too bad a slightly funnier film wasn't dedicated
to his memory, like Faces of Death or Tonya Harding's
Wedding Night video. After this "touching" dedication, we see people
protesting the Hollywood premiere of Outtakes. Some of the
protesters hold signs that read, "Outtakes Sucks!" and "This
Movie is Sh*t." No arguments here. In fact, here's a tip: if you're going
to make a movie, don't use jokes like, "Ha Ha, my movie's bad", because
it will probably backfire, especially if your movie sucks big time.
A reporter at the premiere warns us that the film isn't actually a film
but just a collection of scenes funded by special interest groups and commercial
sponsors. All while a guy shakes a 7-Up bottle next to the reporter's head.
The reporter then adds that he and his (wink) Calvins are going to greet
the special guests. This scene may sound funny like the similar scene in
Wayne's
World, but keep in mind it's staged with all the finesse of a Special
Ed class production of The Odd Couple.
The guests at the premiere have to be the worst collection of celebrity
impersonators I've ever seen. First up is an Asian Dolly Parton with a
dubbed in high pitched man voice. "Dolly" arrives in a limo with a license
plate that reads "2 Boobs". Hey I get it! 2 Boobs! Dolly Parton has two
big breasts. That's something I never picked up on before! Thanks, Outtakes,
for opening my mind. Hey, why not do a joke about Reagan being forgetful,
or how's this for freshness: Marlon Brando's fat hahahahah aaaah....Good
Times. Next guest is an Eddie Murphy impersonator who both sounds and looks
nothing like Eddie Murphy. The only way you find out that this guy is supposed
to be Eddie Murphy is that the guy wears that red leather outfit that Eddie
seemed to always wear in the 80's and he unsuccessfully tries to emulate
Eddie's edgy style, and winds up sounding like a kid with Tourette's syndrome.
The last guest is a female impersonator doing Liza Minnelli, who flatly
sings New York, New York whenever he/she is asked a question.
The film's not even five minutes in, and already you feel like you just
had a plateful of bad clams, but brace yourself, because we meet
the egotistical director of this film (Jack M. Sell), who swaggers down
the red carpet like he's God's gift to film. The reporter tells Jack that
critics are calling his film a real "Bow Wow" (again, no arguments here)
Jack then cleverly quips, "Drop dead, schmuck!" (Truly a comeback that
would put the sorry likes of Oscar Wilde and Groucho Marx to shame.) Jack
then tells us to "chill out" and enjoy the movie.
Inside the theater we see that it is packed and the audience is so excited
we hear them chant "Outtakes, Outtakes". Which
I'm sure are two events that never happened in real life. Finally the film
within the film begins with what the video box calls a parody of music
videos. Really? Because it looks more to me like a horrible vanity project
featuring our uncharismatic director and almost makes Phil Collins's music
seem listenable (almost).
After hearing the phrase, "You can be an outtake" chanted about a thousand
times, Forrest Tucker shows up. Forrest plays our host, who has to introduce
the flaccid sketches and put up with the tired "clapboard slamming shut
on the nose" bit. Forrest then goes on to tell us that Outtakes
is a brand new concept in comedy filmmaking. Sure it is. If you can overlook
the same concept in The Groove Tube, Tunnelvision,
Kentucky
Fried Movie, and at least seven other films. He then introduces
the first sketch entitled "Donawho". An unmemorable parody of Donahue
that contains even more strident impersonations (Donahue, Dr. Ruth) and
painful commercial breaks. (One commercial pushes a porno rag called PUBES,
which isn't so much a rip on pornography as it is an excuse to show pubic
hair.)
When "Donawho" finally has the courtesy to end, the nightmare just starts
over with an even worse sketch. This one is a spoof of films like
Silent
Night, Deadly Night and appears to be an unreleased film cut down
to the length of a trailer, and it also steals its title from the superior
Bob Clark film Black Christmas. Some of the "highlights"
are a Santa Claus who's so wooden he can't even say "ho, ho, ho" convincingly,
a guy getting murdered yelling, "Beam me up Scotty!", Santa getting stabbed
in the ass (who then farts), a woman masturbating on the phone for no reason,
and sex jokes that would make Benny Hill cringe. I think there is justice
in this world when Black Christmas remains unreleased, and
thank God, because it actually looks more creatively bankrupt than Outtakes.
(*)
There are certain images in films that will haunt me for the rest of
my days, images that appear in nightmares and make me rise from my bed
screaming in terror. Some of those images are from the first Halloween,
others are from Texas Chainsaw Massacre. But mostly they're
from this next scene (*shudder*). A quartet of musicians warm up to play
the execrable Outtakes theme. While they play, their instruments
accidentally rip each others clothes off. We then get an eyeful of their
hideous naked bodies mechanically dry humping each other. Even worse, the
camera gives us loving close-ups of droopy pockmarked breasts and flabby
asses in thongs. The scene is supposed to be both funny and erotic, but
it's about as funny and erotic as getting your dick slammed in a car door.
(I should also point out that one of the musicians is a dead ringer for
Weird Al Yankovic, so if you've ever had the desire to see Weird Al get
it on, then you might want to check this out)
The last sketch is the sketch that is required in all Groove Tube
rip-offs, and that's the news parody segment and like most of the other
films Outtakes rips off, this news segment is unmemorable
and lame (At least they got something right) and really isn't worth talking
about.
Even though Outtakes runs 75 minutes, it still has to
pad out the running time with fifteen minutes worth of blackouts with no
punchlines, abandoned sketch ideas (truly a shame we'll never see a full
length version of I Fart on Your Grave), and footage of a
real street performer whose entire shtick is following a person around
and imitating the way they walk. One can only hope that this irritating
jackass got a steel toed boot planted firmly up his ass one day.
Oh, I almost forgot about the commercial parodies. Usually the commercial
parodies are the films' best part - sometimes they're the only bright spot
in the entire movie. Not so in Outtakes (but in this movie
it's hard to pick out a bright spot when everything gets progressively
worse as it goes along. Hell, even the closing credits manage to be awful.)
The commercials run the gamut from pointless gross jokes (A woman in a
restaurant has a really bloody period, people throw up over it, then it
ends) to moronically predictable (one is advertising chili.)
To use this space below to rant about this film's extreme levels of
badness would be redundant. So I'm just going to rant about the films talentless
director, Jack M. Sell. Despite his apparent lack of filmmaking ability,
I counted his name over ten times in the closing credits. Not only did
he direct, he also wrote the screenplay and the awful score, and he edited
and acted. It's amazing that a person can do so much and be so untalented
in all of them. But his acting has to be the worst out of all of them.
Whether he's sticking his smug puffy face in front of the camera, or calling
a real woman (who's auditioning for a commercial) a "stupid c*nt", you
just want to beat his squishy little head in with a pillowcase filled with
copies of his hemorrhage-inducing film. (Oh, the irony.)
But I will give credit to Forrest Tucker, who is likable in his nothing
role and does try to give a little life to the preceding, and there is
one (unintentionally) funny moment, and that's seeing an extra wearing
one of those "Choose Life" T-shirts from that Wham video.
Outtakes is the cinematic equivalent of a slow nine year
old who wont stop making fart noises under his armpit, annoying and unfunny.
Even at 75 minutes, this feels twice as long as Titanic (and
twice as painful). Avoid this like you would avoid a porno flick starring
Rip Taylor.
UPDATE: Reader Jeff Sparkman alerted me about Jack Sell himself
hawking the DVD(!) for this movie on Ebay, and mentioning this review in his
description. Intrigued, I checked it out myself. Here is an excerpt from the
review: "FINALLY, www.badmovieplanet.com has 2 "Sexy Ladies are Mad for
Nags" (sic) internet site that was
set up just so they could write the most nasty &
funniest review I've ever read about our
movie...it starts: "EDITOR'S NOTE: Several years
ago, before starting this web page, I had one of
the worst experiences of my life. An experience
that haunts me even today...that experience was
watching 'OUTTAKES.' When I started this page, I
knew I'd have to let people know just how bad it
was, to save them from potential hell. But, I
could not rent the movie again, to relive the
nightmare. (So, she got one of her feminist
friends to do it!) Michael Sullivan writes:
"Hey, I have an idea. Let's take a trip into the
very depths of Comedy Hell...and enter the ninth
circle of comedic hell, 'Outtakes.' There are
certain images in films that will haunt me for
the rest of my days...a quartet of musicians
warm up to play the execrable OUTTAKES theme.
While they play, their instruments accidently
(sic) rip each others clothes off...but
it's about as erotic as getting your d***slammed
in a car door...truly a shame we'll never see a
full length version of (a short sketch) 'I FART
ON YOUR GRAVE.' OUTTAKES is the cinematic
equivalent of a slow nine year old who won't
stop making fart noises under his armpit."
Speaking for the producers of this film, we love
all the awards and the huge advance from
COLUMBIA PICTURES, but these gals website is the
BEST!!! Check out the detail and the obsession
they have for this movie! (maybe Freud could
figure it out for them!) Anyway, We guarantee
that "OUTTAKES" will make to you (sic)
laugh! GOOD LUCK! Good luck indeed -
you'll need it if you watch this movie. I did
send an e-mail to Mr. Sell regarding the obvious
errors regular readers of this site will see in
the above paragraph, but as of this update I've
heard nothing back from him.
UPDATE 2: R. Dolton sent this in: "Greetings Greywizard.
I been visiting your site for the past few years
and sent maybe 2 or three letters before.
"I am not sure why but for some reason I decided
to google Jack M sell. From what I've read his
movies seem to be train wrecks caught on film.
I've never seen any of his films and really
don't want to spend the money to order to them
online. Just to see how bad they truly are. The
first site listed was an official site. He now
teaches a filmmaking camp for young indie
filmmakers in FL.
"I just thought you might like to know there are
indeed More outtakes. The sequel to "the film
that almost every Frat House in the country has
been watching for years"
http://sellcommunications.net/moreouttakes.htm
"Now I am not a sadist suggesting you review it
and suffer the pain. Just thought people might
be interested to learn there's a sequel to a
film they never head of. Anyways keep up the
good work."
* Another editor's note: I read a review
in Variety several years ago concerning Jack M. Sell's subsequent
movie, Deadly Spygames. He actually reused this Santa Claus footage
(as a flashback) in this James Bond spoof. The most interesting thing about
the review, however, was that the critic though that (aside from the recycling
of this footage) it was a pretty good movie.
Check for availability on Amazon (VHS) See
also: Flicks,
Prime Time,
Viewer Discretion
Advised
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