Review: "Truth or Dare"

“Truth or Dare” is less a work of creative effort than a piece of merchandise you order up on your phone. It’s disposable entertainment, the cinematic equivalent of gas station pizza -- more notable for its availability than any brush with quality.

It has all the distinguishing markers of low-grade, uninspired horror these days: kitschy premise that combines an old-timey concept with social media omni-connectivity; enough violence to seem “hard” while staying safely within the confines of the economically palatable PG-13 box; an improbably attractive cast of high school- or college-age students, played by actors bumping up against -- and in a couple cases, cruising right past -- age 30; the old saw of “the game turns deadly” as youthful frivolity gives way to mounting mayhem; a toll of deaths that steadily bumps up the body count while the remaining characters frantically test the limits of the “you can’t stop it” confines.

This is the sort of movie that introduces rules that, while fantastical, at least give some definition to the boundaries of the arena in which the game will be played. Then, when these grow inconvenient to the storytelling, blows right past them.

For instance: the idea of “Truth or Dare” is that a bunch of college students head down to Mexico to party during spring break, are lured to a creepy old mission where they play the naughty eponymous game. Even after they return home, they are forced to keep playing, with death the certain outcome if they don’t go along.

Well, anybody who could get into college -- even a nondescript SoCal party school -- would soon be able to figure out to choose “truth” every time. Embarrassing secrets may hurt you, but at least that way the demonic force running the game can’t make you, say, smash your best friend’s hand with a hammer, or slash your lover’s throat open.

Director Jeff Wadlow, who co-wrote the script with three others, explodes this obstacle by inserting the “two truths and a dare” rule. Apparently, the first group of youngsters who played this game created their own addendum which says that after two people choose truth in a row, the next one must choose dare. For some reason, this change then applies to the next group to play.

(Personally, I didn’t know demons allowed those forced to play its nasty little games to change the rules at their whim. If so, and considering this involves partying college students, I’m surprised the game wasn’t further altered to add a whole lot of trou-dropping.)

Lucy Hale heads up the cast as Olivia, the prototypical “sweet ‘n’ smart girl” who we know will wind up as one of the last survivors. She wanted to build houses with Habitat for Humanity during spring break, but got roped into fun by her best friend, Markie (Violett Beane).

Other members of the crew include the ubiquitous Jerky Guy (Nolan Gerard Funk), Drinky Girl (Sophia Ali), Dweeby Creep (Sam Lerner), Nice Gay Guy (Hayden Szeto) and Dreamy Dude Who’s With the Wrong Girl (Tyler Posey).

The way the demon -- who’s named Calix, btw -- communicates his commands is supposed to be horrifying, but it’s actually ridiculously goofy. People’s faces twist into a rictus grin, sort of like the Joker’s, croaking “truth or dare.” It feels more like a Hunter S. Thompson druggie mind-warp than supernatural terror.

Dropping acid would admittedly be more dangerous than watching this movie, but certainly more fun.

Review: "Kick-Ass 2"

"This isn't a comic book! If you die, there is no do-over! There are no sequels!"
--Dave Lizewski, aka Kick-Ass

I lost track of how many times the characters in "Kick-Ass 2" reminded me that what I was watching was real, not just pretend -- as if to give weight to the proceedings that did not otherwise exist. The joke, of course, is this is very much a comic book movie, super-heroes get do-overs all the flipping time, and it's a sequel that is trying so hard to convince us that sequels and reboots are soulless affairs with little point for existing.

I'm not sorry they made a sequel to "Kick-Ass," or that I watched it. But it feels like the original's vital juices all got sucked out of it.

The 2010 film, directed and co-written by Matthew Vaughn based on the comic books by Mark Millar and John Romita Jr., was shocking, hard-edged, hyper-violent and whip-smart. The sequel is jokey, surprisingly soft around the edges, sorta-violent and not half as clever as it thinks it is.

Writer/director Jeff Wadlow takes over the reins, and to his credit the characters haven't just been frozen in time since last we saw them. Dave Lizewski (Aaron Taylor-Johnson), the rail-thin high school dweeb who first started the masked vigilante craze, is now a burned-out senior who looks like he's been living at the gym. Seeing so many would-be superheroes copycatting his style finally convinces him to get back in the game.

More problematic is Hit-Girl, the pint-sized terror who spewed vile curses while literally chopping up bad guys with her arsenal of blades and guns. Now she's a trembly 15-year-old freshman, uncertain of her place in the world and feeling ostracized by the mean girls at school.

Chloë Grace Moretz is one of the brightest lights of her generation, but her character's back-and-forth dithering gets really old, really fast. We know she's eventually going to put the purple wig back on again, so everything until then feels like marking time.

There's a long sequence where Hit-Girl gets sucked into the bitchy schemes of the ruling clique, led by Brooke, deliciously played by Claudia Lee. It's like the movie goes all "Heathers" for a time, and while it's engaging enough in its right, this section belongs in another movie.

Rejected by Hit-Girl in his quest for a partner, Kick-Ass hooks up with a bunch of other supers, who dub themselves Justice 4 Ever. These include Battle Guy (revealed to be Dave's oldest friend), Dr. Gravity, Night Bitch and Insect Man. For wannabes, they sure come up with lackluster names for themselves.

They're led by Colonel Stars and Stripes, a deranged fascist played by Jim Carrey, nearly unrecognizable under a mountain of prosthetics. The Colonel teaches his disciples not to use foul language, but sees nothing wrong with siccing his attack dog (also masked) on the nether regions of his foes.

Of course, you couldn't have a super-hero story without a villain, and it's Christopher Mintz-Plasse as Chris D'Amico, former Kick-Ass friend-turned-foe after the latter killed his mob boss father.

Recognizing that his super-power is that he has gobs of money, he gives himself a new (unprintable) moniker and sets about recruiting an evil army. His own costume is salvaged from his mother's S&M outfits, which aren't improved by his wearing them.

This leads to the inevitable showdown between the two teams, which carries a certain amount of thrills -- especially Hit-Girl's faceoff with Mother Russia, a former KGB enforcer vividly portrayed by bodybuilder Olga Kurkulina.

I didn't hate "Kick-Ass 2," but I didn't particularly like it, either. The movie just sat there for me, going through the motions of the original but with the violence and swearing toned down about 40 percent. What's most clear is that very little ass is actually kicked.