THE PAPERBOY (1994)
If I appended "more like this" to the end of each blood capsule, what would you expect to find, assuming that you clicked through to your ultimate destination? Probably more...like this. You would see a culvert of b-movie reviews written by a providentially agitated (and devastatingly handsome) horror fanatic. The IMDb page for The Paperboy has its own "more like this" sidebar. Logic dictates that it would display a clear watercourse of mediocre domestic thrillers a la The Landlady and Poison Ivy. Instead, it recommends Nekromantik and Parker Lewis Can't Lose (yes, the sitcom). And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the most interesting thing about The Paperboy. I'm tapped. Okay, I'll type a few more words, but only because I'm not required at the golf course for another two hours.
I have to hand it to Marc Marut, the callow thespian who plays the titular news vendor. He goes all out, and I believed that he was a deranged derelict. I'm not sure what to make of the fact that he bowed out of acting shortly after wrapping this direct-to-video cheapie. Alexandra Paul is almost too wholesome as the devoted den mother. On second thought, her chastity creates a nice contrast with her grubby co-star. The pace is nimble. The storyline may be predictable, but I didn't mind watching it untwine. That's the key, kids! If you're not doing something new, you better do it well. To that end, I'm off to polish my manuscript, a shot-for-shot remake of The Paperboy. If you notice, I've included a screen grab from the trailer (be nice, it's only the workprint).
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