Schlock Corridor: Day Eighteen

G-MEN FROM HELL

"Snuffed and sent to Hell, two federal agents find a way to return to Earth, where they try to perform good deeds and earn their way to Heaven."

Mike Allred is probably my favorite comic book artist of all-time. I absolutely adore his dynamic, pop art style, which pays tribute to the giants of the industry like Jack Kirby and Steve Ditko, throwing in elements from the work of Roy Lichtenstein, all the while standing as its own unique, vibrant, dazzling form. Allred's art will never be lost in the crowded shelf space of your local comic book shop, and you'll never mistake his singular look for that of anyone else.

In an industry that still lauds the pathetic, puerile work of a man like Rob Liefeld, Mike Allred's success is almost an anachronism, and some of his work, most notably portions of his signature creation Madman, are so beautifully creative and sublimely bizarre, I marvel at the fact that it's so well-regarded by fans of comic books as a medium. I've always wondered how Allred's work could be translated to the silver screen, or even if any adaptation should be attempted.

Robert Rodriguez has long dreamed of bringing Madman to life in a motion picture, and a decade ago, I loved the idea. He kept talking up the project, saying it was next on his docket, and I remember my continued frustration that a seemingly endless series of Spy Kids movies kept getting in the way of his Madman adaptation. In retrospect, the film's inability to materialize in theaters was probably a blessing in disguise, considering Rodriguez's shocking regression as a filmmaker in the intervening years. Honestly, the world doesn't need a Madman movie. Any adaptation would either strip away that beautiful insanity that makes the property so special, or its miniscule budget would be unable to accurately realize the source material onscreen.

But what about another Mike Allred creation? I know what you're thinking; and no, nobody in Hollywood is crazy enough to option Red Rocket 7. There is, however, a G-Men From Hell movie...

Mike Mattress and Dean Crept, the G-Men from Hell, first appeared in an early Allred comic called Grafik Musik that I've unfortunately never read, and they later made several appearances in Madman Comics, culminating in a story arc that revealed their origins as they worked to save Frank Einstein from his arch-nemesis, Mr. Monstadt. The cinematic G-Men From Hell, released in the year 2000, is a relatively faithful adaptation of that origin story, only removing the character of Frank Einstein, due to what I must assume are licensing issues.

The story follows slain FBI agents Mike Mattress and Dean Crept (played by Tate Donovan and William Forsythe, respectively) as they escape from Hell and journey back to planet Earth to form a private detective agency, trying to perform enough good deeds along the way to earn their way into Heaven. The make their great escape by stealing a green crystal from a completely unguarded cabinet that's located next to a lake of fire.

Keep in mind, this is the Devil's private crystal cabinet, and he uses these crystals to travel back and forth between Hell and Earth on a regular basis to collect souls. You'd think the big guy would keep these very important crystals under lock and key, and not just in some random cabinet out in the open where anybody could come along and steal one of them with next to no effort. It's just not a smart way to handle your shit, man.

So the G-Men materialize back in Earth in Vanessa Angel's bathtub, and instead of screaming hysterically or calling the cops, she takes the sudden appearance of two strange men in her water closet very well, putting on her absolute best (which is to say terrible) Marilyn Monroe impression as she calmly asks them to leave her apartment before she contacts the authorities. After this odd sequence, the G-Men decide to go into business for themselves, stealing money from mob lackey Bobcat Goldthwait (blowing his brains out in the process) and using these ill-gotten gains to open their own unlicensed private investigations office.

There's a mob boss involved, and he's paying kindly mad scientist Dr. Boiffard (David Huddleston) to do... something... but the mob boss fires him because... something... so Boiffard goes into business for himself, employing that guy who was the voice of Roger Rabbit and his sentient hand puppet named Petey to steal Bobcat's corpse, so that Boiffard can transfer the dead comedian's soul into a goofy-looking pink robot, because... because he is a mad scientist.

The G-Men hire Kari Wuhrer to be their secretary, and she's surprisingly keen to take the job, but she sits out ninety percent of the movie, so her character contributes nothing to the overall plot. There's a self-styled superhero called "Cheetah Man" who appears multiple times, stalking the rooftops of Snap City in cheetah-print pajamas, spouting the phrase "Evil must be punished!" again and again, but he does absolutely nothing of note in the movie aside from this, making his character entirely useless and all time devoted to him entirely wasted.

Gary Busey plays a flamboyantly gay police detective with serious anger issues who likes to wear lip gloss while asking his straight-laced partner (Zach Galligan) if he enjoyed showering with all the other boys in gym class back in the day. His character is an obscene caricature of homosexuality, and as far as I can remember, he was invented entirely for this movie. I don't understand what the powers that be were thinking when they came up with this character. Aside from one brief instance of seeing Busey wear a feather boa (which is just weird), he inspires no laughs, and is really just offensive to watch.

The character also disappears after the second act, forcing Zach Galligan to take center stage during the climax, explaining away Busey's absence as the result of gross misconduct due to his being a handsy old queen, but I surmise the production just couldn't afford Gary Busey for more than a few days of shooting. But in all honesty, he probably wandered off into the woods to eat a squirrel or something, and they just couldn't find him again.

Paul Rodriguez plays a hellish lackey called "Weenie Man", who is tasked with retrieving the crystal from the G-Men, but he loses interest and become a TV evangelist for five minutes before the G-Men freeze him with fire extinguishers and the Devil melts him to retrieve the crystal (which he swallowed in a panic before being frozen), and his entire role just feels like an excuse to pad out the narrative.

As far as the narrative goes, Vanessa Angel is the wife of that mob boss guy I mentioned earlier, and she hires the G-Men to investigate his murder, and its eventually revealed that the evil puppet Petey did the deed, because I guess he didn't like the mob boss, and Dr. Boiffard transferred Petey's soul into the mob boss's body because... and the Devil shows up to claim the evil soul of Petey, who was actually an orphaned young boy Dr. Boiffard found living on the streets years prior, and the good Dr. transferred the boy's soul into a puppet when he discovered the boy was dying from a terminal illness.

Then the Devil (played by Robert Goulet) tells the G-Men it's time to come back to Hell, but the G-Men say no, so the Devil just shrugs and goes back to Hell without them, and then Vanessa Angel and Tate Donovan go bowling and the movie ends.

When I said G-Men From Hell was an accurate adaptation of its source material, I was referring solely to the details of the plot. The movie has no charm, no wit, and certainly no great visual style. Director Christopher Coppola (Nicolas Cage's brother, believe it or not) has no real talent behind the camera, telling the film's story through a series of standard camera set-ups, following the tried and true "A Camera/B Camera" style favored by soap operas for sheer efficiency while offering absolutely no variety or diversity. It's just boring to watch.

There's no visual flair to the film whatsoever, not even during the film's brief interludes in Hell, which consist of Styrofoam rocks placed randomly around a cramped soundstage and a flame bar mounted in front of the camera. It all feels so lazy, and that's a truly unforgivable sin in a film adapted from the work of one of the most visually dynamic artists the comics industry has ever known. None of the actors in this movie are turning in good performances, clearly just going through the motions in order to collect a (surely meager) paycheck.

I'm honestly not convinced anybody involved in the production of this movie gave a single shit about what they were doing. Despite the insultingly standard cinematography style, shadows of cameras and boom microphones are often clearly visible within the frame, projected both on the sets and the actors, on a few rare occasions even partially obscuring an actor's face while they're speaking. This is shockingly amateur behavior, and I can't believe it's a chronic problem in the movie. Once or twice is understandable, I suppose, but this consistent lack of understanding regarding camera placement and set lighting is absolutely disgraceful. This is supposed to be a real movie, not some half-assed student film, but you wouldn't know from watching it.

G-Men From Hell is a shameful adaptation, and a reprehensible film in its own right, and I absolutely hate it. It took eighteen days of this Schlock Corridor nonsense, but I've finally watched a film that just pissed me off. I can feel my blood pressure rising just thinking of this pitiful excuse for a motion picture. Christ, I need a break. I'm going to go watch a bunch of Vincent Price movies and try to forget that a G-Men From Hell movie was ever made. But it won't work. I'll never be able to forget.

YOUR TIME IS RUNNING OUT!