
Where to start? Let's talk for a moment about the worlds of music and film. There's a lot of crossover. Film directors sometimes make very good videos. Sofia Coppola (The White Stripes' "I Just Don't Know What To Do with Myself"), Martin Scorsese (Michael Jackson's "Bad"), and Gus Van Sant (Red Hot Chili Peppers' "Under the Bridge") -- all Oscar nominees for directing -- come immediately to mind.
Occasionally it works in reverse. Spike Jonze made the delightful video for Weezer's "Buddy Holly" before going on to helm Adaptation and Where the Wild Things Are. David Fincher put his touch on Billy Idol's "Rock the Cradle of Love," Madonna's "Vogue," the Rolling Stones' "Love is Strong" and six billion other cool videos then made Seven, Fight Club, and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, among other films. The husband and wife team of Valerie Ferris and Jonathan Dayton, responsible for the sleeper hit Little Miss Sunshine, got their start making videos for Smashing Pumpkins ("1979") and Jane's Addiction ("Been Caught Stealing"). Bet you didn't know that, did you? As always, I fill your brain with treasure.
Sometimes, though, things are lost in translation. Case in point: Tarsem. Remember Tarsem? He's the dude who made R.E.M.'s "Losing My Religion" video. It was super cool and won a gazillion awards, all of which Tarsem accepted while dressed like Aladdin. But then Tarsem decided to direct movies. The results were the visually gorgeous but completely ridiculous The Cell and The Fall. I understand he's currently making another movie, Dawn of War, which he desribes as" a really hardcore action film done in Renaissance painting style." Can't wait.

Resteghini has made some films too, most notably a little gem called Da Hip Hop Witch, an urban take on The Blair Witch Project that featured a little-known-but-soon-to-be-hu
In Urban Massacre Resteghini again pairs hip-hop and horror. At the center of the action is a fictional group, Tha Supanatchralz, played by real-life rappers Krumbsnatcha, Ivory, Baby Sham, Dia, and Remedy. I'm sure these names mean something to people in the know, but I couldn't keep track of who's who so that is that last time you'll hear me reference any of the actual actors.
Not that it matters. All you need to know is that everybody in the music biz wants to sign Tha Supanatchralz and that a clown wants to kill all of those people.

By "credibility" I assume Kim is referring to the "fact" that all clowns are evil. You know, Kim, I would think that a black woman married to a cracka who makes a living making movies about rappers might be a tad more sensitive to stereotyping.
Oh, that's right, clown hating is the last acceptable form of bigotry.
By the way, Kim makes that statement on the director's commentary you can play while watching the film. Normally I don't bother with that sort of thing, as watching most of these films more than once is on my list of Things I Want To Do Slightly Less Than I Want to Sit in a Tub Full of Fire Ants. But I was curious to see if she and Dale would talk about why they chose to use a clown as their villain, so I watched parts of it again.
And I'm

Now that you know the clown is in the movie to lend an element of realism, I will take you on a giddy romp through the story.
As might be expected considering the director's forte, at it’s core Urban Massacre is an extended rap video built around four lengthy performances by Tha Supanatchralz. In between are 1. scenes where the clown kills someone, 2. scenes where the members of Tha Supanatchralz are interrogated about the killings, and 3. a completely gratuitous scene where one of Tha Supanatchralz has sex with a woman identified as "one of his four baby mamas."
It may not come as a surprise to you that the clown scenes are the most entertaining, although the sex scene is pretty steamy if you're into that sort of thing. (Also, the DVD extras feature an extended version of that scene, which is thoughtful.) But for me it was the clown.
The clown is not terribly scary, at least in appeara

Fun Fact #1: The film's credits list no fewer than 30 stunt cyclists, but only 26 actors. Also, the clown is played by 6 different actors.
Okay, so the clown kills

What? Who's Skoobz? Sorry. I forgot to mention that. He's a Chihuahua. He belonged to one of the clown's first victims, a rapper. Now it's up to Tha Supanatchralz to rescue him. As the proud parents of three Chis myself, I'm glad they're all about getting Skoobz back, but I don't really know why they're so concerned. I don't recall any of them speaking fondly of him before now.
Off they go to confront the

Fun Fact #2: The club where the performances take place is called Club Enron. The sleazy manager, who has his throat cut by the clown, is named Ken Lay. Ha ha! Social commentary!

Having subdued the murderous Bozo they start to remove his mask to reveal the identity of the killa. Then -- THEN -- they stop and announce that if we want to know who did it we'll have to wait for the sequel.
Oh no you din't. But they did. So if you didn't already hate Urban Massacre you now totally despise the very sight of it. I mean what a totally punk ass thing to do. (FYI: Urban Massacre is full of endearing terms like punk ass. Generally they precede words that start with B or N.)

Holy confetti! I for one never saw that coming. I mean finding out the whole thing was a dream, sure. Or that everyone was dead the whole time and only the clown could see them. Obvious. But an identical twin? That's genius.
Oh oh oh. I can't believe I forgot t

Forget Skoobz. That is the best part of the movie.
Favorite Line: "There's a dim bulb in your little lamp, isn't there?"
Rating (out of 5):