Yo, She-Bitch...Let's Go

I've slept for almost sixteen hours in the last two days. This should be a good thing, but I feel like death. I've got the mother and father of all headaches and I don't feel like doing much except...well...sleeping.

I am unwell.

But never mind, eh? I think I'll dash off a quick blog entry and then return to my bed. Thanks for all the feedback on my political screed, by the way. I'll try and respond to it either later on or tomorrow.

As for today, it's more stuff you didn't know about me, plus a book review.

I'm not sure when I first saw Bruce Campbell act. Once I was a fan, I realised that I'd seen a hell of a lot of movies that featured the man without actually recognising him. The film that caught my attention, though, was Army Of Darkness. If you're unfamiliar with the third of the Evil Dead films, then I'll lay it out for you as simply as possible. AOD is a hammy and exceedingly stupid film with a ludicrous plot. It is largely populated by cardboard characters and unconvincing special effects. However, director Sam Raimi (who would go on to become one of the most famous helmers in the world) is quite clearly aware of this, as are the cast, and the resulting movie is a ninety minute riot of slapstick comedy, cheap horror, and brutally funny one-liners.

Undisputed star of the show is Bruce Campbell as anti-hero Ash, who completes his journey from the wide-eyed innocent of The Evil Dead to a chauvinistic, arrogant, wise-cracking bastard who tucks the entire movie into his back pocket with such ease that it's actually titled on the credits as Bruce Campbell Vs. Army Of Darkness.

If you haven't seen any of the Evil Dead films, then you're missing out on one of the quirkiest franchises the horror genre has ever seen. None of the films are especially frightening, but they are very well made (on very small budgets) and frequently hilarious.

Anyway, now you know about my penchant for low budget comedy horror, let's get onto the book.

Unlike other books of this type, If Chins Could Kill makes for an engrossing read. Campbell's writing voice is easy, engaging, and full of wry self-deprecation. Even when he's not discussing the films you bought the book to read about, Bruce brings his world to life in a convincing and warm fashion that draws smiles and occasionally laughs.

Obviously, Campbell's readership was always going to consist mainly of the fans he describes as 'deadites', as well as a healthy smattering of folk who got into shows like Hercules and Xena: Warrior Princess, both of which featured Campbell as Autolycus, the king of thieves. But it does have an appeal that extends beyond those limited demographics. Indeed, Campbell offers a perspective on Hollywood and the life of an actor that is somewhere between your average lovefest of a biography and the more violent attacks on Hollywood from the likes of Julia Phillips and Robert Evans. He does rant, but his infrequent attacks are neither venomous nor full of jealous bile. Rather, you imagine Campbell telling these tales with a smile and perhaps the occasional shake of his head at the ridiculousness of it all.

Of course, ICCK is also full of the kind of details that fans are going to love to read, charting not only his own decidedly unmeteoric rise to fame, but also those of his friends, including Raimi, producer Robert Tapert, and The Coen brothers. From the original Evil Dead to the success of Spiderman, much of the ground is covered, and Campbell always finds the time to praise or smirk at the work of others, peppering his experiences with amusing tales of practical jokes and lasting friendships.

Ultimately, If Chins Could Kill is a funny and warm-hearted book that makes for an easy and fascinating read, especially if you're familiar with Bruce Campbell and his strange body of work. In the 'all-new' section at the end, a description of the 'Chins Across America' tour Campbell embarked on to promote to book, he hints at a sequel. If it's as enjoyable as this, I hope he gets around to writing it.