Hardware (1990)

True story: I first saw Hardware alone on a grainy VHS rental, digging its lo-fi vibe, while my sister caught it at a campus showing. Afterward, she labeled it the worst film she had ever seen, and to this day, she brings up my admiration as proof of my stupidity. I then remind her of her recommendation of Martin Lawrence’s Nothing to Lose, and we reach détente. Thing is, Hardware is seemingly designed solely for genre snobs who can glimpse genuine artistry poking out from between the seams. Part spaghetti Western, part Terminator and part slasher, if you dig the style, you’ll likely groove to the nihilistic audacity. If not, you’ll find it a heap of gory nonsense.

Set in a dystopia of sand and smog, and narrated by a DJ (Iggy Pop!) who crows, “There’s no fuckin’ good news!” the film follows soldier Moses (Dylan McDermott, far from TV’s The Practice) delivering a heap of junk to his sculptor girlfriend, Jill (Stacey Travis). Turns out, said junk is really the remains of a M.A.R.K.-13, a military cyborg designed to reassemble itself from whatever is nearby. Cue manic metallic menace and hearty spurts of blood.

Not much for story, but director Richard Stanley keeps things moving through integrity of vision and an absolutely gorgeous giallo color scheme, layering it with a subtext of man’s symbiotic relationship with machines, first glimpsed through Moses’ artificial hand. Invaluable character actor William Hootkins gets to portray one of filmdom’s most depraved perverts, and Simon Boswell’s throbbing, Western-tinged score will earworm its way into your skull.

It isn’t perfect; the script is undercooked, and the tiny budget betrays itself through clumsy action and ersatz effects. But Hardware, love it or hate it, is undeniably a pure product of Stanley’s mind, and in an era of generic Platinum Dunes horrors, it’s refreshing to see an unwillingness to compromise, even if the result is deeply flawed. Put it this way: If you can find the value of a movie where the hero strides past a baby tied to a dead woman’s waist without taking a second glance, you’ll appreciate Hardware; if not, I’m sure Blockbuster has a copy of Big Momma’s House. —Corey Redekop

Buy it at Amazon.

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