Westworld (1973)
Is this the one where Costner drinks his own urine, ‘cause I’m eating right now.
“At
Yul Brynner, the guy from that Chess song.
Hey it’s Barbara Streisand’s wife! Er, husband.
This plane’s been ten feet off the ground for the past three miles. Friggin’ drunk pilots.
So James Brolin and Creepy-stache are having a pleasant gay vacation in Westworld?
Oh, that’s why it was so low. It was a hovercraft. I forgot it’s…THE FUTURE!
Oh yeah, hot pasty seventies man-chests. Chesthair wasn’t invented til the Eighties apparently.
Wild wild western hookers, cool!
C’mon android, don’t bump me!
Yul Brynner, you short Russian robo-bastard.
“He needs his momma,” Yul says in a broken Eastern-Western accent.
Yul just got fucked up by Creepy-stache.
Mmm, wenches. Medieval World dinners are way funner than Westworld dinners.
Whoa, it’s a sex saloon. Complete with racist Asian caricatures.
“There’s plenty of fun here.” Robo-fun.
Mmm, android love. Pound that robot Creepstache.
Brolin loved it. But then again, he’s used to banging cold lifeless machines.
It must suck to be on robot cleanup duty.
The robot labs. The head doctor’s just walkin’ around, supervising. “Yeah, just tape some wires to their heads and do some robot stuff.”
“I think it’s the gyro-unit.” Nerd.
“Well, maybe you can shift the generator unit up deeper into the cavity.” That’s what I always do.
A horse lying sideways on a table. That’s just cute.
“We don’t know exactly how they work.” They’re robots! How do you not know? You made the damn things!
Wait, that guy was just a Mongol, what the hell? Where was he, Mongol World?
Activate old man in rocking chair…now. Rock rock rock…
No better feeling than waking up with a sexbot in your bed.
Creepstache, stop singing.
Yul Brynner out the window! He’s 0 for 2 against Creepstache.
You can be imprisoned for shooting a robot? Fuck that, I’ll shoot every robot.
James Streisand to the rescue. Wow, mustve been a localized blast. Blew a hole in the jail wall and didn’t touch the guy in the cell. Damn, Brolin shot the sheriff.
Jeffrey Tambor’s gonna bang that wench.
Hold on, let me agitate this rattlesnake further. Robo-snake? Now that’s impressive.
“That’s not s’posed to happen!” I’m gonna spank that snake so hard. Bad snake!
This
was Michael Crichton’s first job. Basically the same plot as
Wait, so The Black Knight isn’t black? That’s just ig’nant.
Man, why would a somewhat-cool fun-loving guy like James Brolin marry Barbara Streisand? Talk about emptying out your fun account.
That robot wench just has too much self-respect to get banged by Lord Tambor.
“She is a sex model.” “Certainly is.”
I think Tambor’s going down. The White Black Knight’s gonna pound his ass. Figuratively. I hope.
Wild wild western hangovers.
Nice flip by Lord Tambor.
Yul Brynner wants to get gunned down for the third time by Creepstache? Man.
Brolin got blasted. Damn you, Yul!!!!
So
people get shot and skewered with swords. It’s still less dangerous than
So basically he’s a robot with the worst vision ever. Everybody looks like blocky Lego characters to him.
And the robot uprising begins. Can’t trust those androids, I’ve told you a million times.
Go Creepstache go!
Why is the control room getting all hot and they can’t get out? I don’t understand that plot element.
“You haven’t got a chance!” “Yes I do.” Good comeback, Creepstache.
Why does somebody keep wiggling a diving board? Weirdest soundtrack ever.
Well, empty hallways are better than robot-filled hallways.
It’s a good thing laboratories always have trays of acid lying around. Ew, bubbly-faced Brynner.
Just bludgeon the motherfucker. Get something big and bonk him over the head. C’mon Creepstache.
Oh man, you never want the battery on your Colt 45 to run out when you’re pursuing a civilian with a bad mustache.
I forgot about the robot’s sworn enemy. Fire. Burn that foreign cowboy! Every movie should have somebody completely engulfed in flames, flailing around. It’s just plain cool. Man, robots can’t get near fire or water. What can they do?
Eww, charred Yul. I guess now he’s just a Yul log. Ha!
A dramatic robot death for a dramatic robot actor. A very wooden performance from Yul Brynner, which is weird ‘cause modern robots are made of metal.
Well, I’ll just curl up in this dungeon for alittle bit. Pretty tuckered out.
“Boy have we got a vacation for you-you-you-you-you-you-you-you…” I don’t know if that ending was chilling or my AC’s just too low.
The hootenanny music in the closing credits makes up for a lot.
What I’ll take away most from this film is that creepy creepy mustache. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must go shave.
Overall: Two out of Four Happy Ethans. Acting – doesn’t take much acting to portray a robot. They shouldve just hired robots. Directing – Crichton incredibly kept directing into the late Eighties until Spielberg grabbed the wheel and said “I got it from here buddy.” Writing – he blows as a director, but he can still write a mean script. Music – it was weird and odd until the hootenanny music at the end. Nothin’ puts a smile on your face and a jig in your feet like some hootenanny music.
They’ll be remaking this baby in
2009. By then