Emergency Exit Podcast Network

We sat down for Anthony’s birthday episode and immediately chose violence. We’re talking about The Punisher (1989), a movie that wastes zero time proving it absolutely does not give a single coherent fuck. A film that opens like a bargain-bin James Bond fever dream, then sprints straight into explosions and foot-stab assassinations.  Our Birthday Boy is riding the host chair; it’s chaos, it’s loud, and honestly, it’s kind of beautiful. It’s also a very full house at Rewatch Party HQ, with Anthony, Nick, Elise, Manny, AND Dan all trying to keep up with a movie that refuses to explain anything besides repeating apparently legally binding exposition about 125 gangland murders on loop. That doesn't stop us from enthusiastically narrating every insane beat.  [X] Sewer monologue about justice, [X] a naked Punisher living like a damp raccoon philosopher, and [X] a drunken Shakespearean informant who should not, under any circumstances, be this plugged into organized crime.  And that's on top of frog-ninja assassins,

Part two of our Rob Reiner tribute cranks things up from "contractually obligated chaos" to "loving homage" as we continue the end with Spinal Tap 2: The End Continues.  We're looking in the mirror of a movie that hinges entirely on how, despite despising each other for years, people CAN be brought back together by Big Bottoms. For the first time in Rewatch Party history, we bring in someone who's actually in the movie: Valerie F-ing Franco. Having survived music school with Nick, she now occupies rock's most dangerous chair as drummer Didi Crockett.  So yes, indulge our delight when she casually drops stories about jamming with Paul McCartney, sharing the screen with Elton John, and having Christopher Guest as her personal hype-man. She also confirms the importance of preparation in the luck equation by booking the gig live in the room with McKean, Guest, and Shearer. From there, we mix reverence and absolute nonsense in the Rewatch Party way.  Val walks us through pitching drum kits themed after every dead

Rob Reiner. The man’s résumé could get its own standing ovation, but to celebrate his life we hop on tour with This Is Spinal Tap — an impossible film to direct, and yet, somehow he did it. Ninety five percent improvised. No script. Just a loose roadmap, a camera, and a band of deeply committed idiots pretending to be deeply committed idiots. Anyone can say, “Just keep rolling, we’ll fix it later.” Rob actually pulled it off. We talk about how you direct chaos without strangling it, how you stage jokes that don’t technically exist yet, and why this might be one of the most daring comedy experiments ever captured on film. The songs are real. The egos are familiar. Somewhere between a “bizarre gardening accident” and the reminder that you cannot dust for vomit, the satire becomes uncomfortably accurate. It’s a mockumentary so authentic it fooled people into thinking Spinal Tap was a real band, and honestly at this point, they kind of are. If you’ve ever played in a band, dated someone in a band, or adjusted an

It’s Manny’s birthday, and he has officially hijacked the host mic. Nick attempts a suspiciously “laid-back” vibe that convinces no one, Elise gets drafted as the ringmaster by default, and Anthony provides steady resistance in the form of skepticism, legal concerns, and the occasional reminder that he is, in fact, a law-abiding citizen. The energy is celebratory, but the guardrails are gone. This week we break down why Edgar Wright’s 2017 action-musical Baby Driver still presses every one of Manny’s birthday-boy buttons. If you do not personally own a Subaru by the end of the opening chase, we have questions about your judgment. Also, your failure to synchronize your windshield wipers to your Spotify playlist has us questioning your commitment. Real cars, real stunts, real driving, and a director who appears to believe that timing matters more than explosions combine to flip a very specific switch in Manny’s brain. We also grapple with the slightly uncomfortable experience of hearing Kevin Spacey look into t

We strap on the Oakleys, cue up Limp Bizkit, and immediately start asking the hard questions. Everyone is whispering, doves are everywhere, and Tom Cruise glues himself to a rockface. Yep, John Woo was here. This week we slow motion our way into Mission Impossible 2, a motorcycle kicking, face ripping mad dash where the vibes are immaculate and the plot mostly exists to justify another coat flutter. Along the way we marvel at aggressively yanked terrain warnings, questionable science, Anthony Hopkins popping in like he lost a bet, and another villain who truly believes in the finger snipping bad guy school of management. It is the most year 2000 movie imaginable, and we have a lot of feelings about it. From exploding sunglasses to masks under masks under worse masks, this movie is operating at maximum swagger and minimum concern for how viruses or gravity work. Thandiwe Newton is asked to carry emotional weight while dodging motorcycles, Tom Cruise broods with the intensity of a man legally prohibited from bl

Tom Cruise runs. Tom Cruise rips faces off. Tom Cruise would like you to know he is a normal human man with a perfectly centered tooth and no further questions at this time. This week we accept our mission and immediately compromise it by talking too much. Let’s take a fresh look at Brian De Palma’s aggressively stylized spy reboot - Mission Impossible, a movie that invents modern blockbuster espionage while also insisting that every elevator in Eastern Europe is one bad day away from becoming a murder device. Anthony zeroes in on the franchise DNA, questioning whether Ethan Hunt has ever actually fired a gun, or if this is just Fast & Furious for people who can breathe through their noses. Elise remains deeply unconvinced by nearly everything on screen, especially the soft-focus glow applied exclusively to women, the sheer confidence of the plot, and the continued, unforgivable lack of Kurt Russell. And in case you had ANY doubts about what anyone means by 0400, Dan is back and has the answer. From the c

It's the Christmas Episode!   (To the tune of The Christmas Song) Penguins roasting in the sewer pipes, Black fish goop on Danny’s chin, Scary clowns with their guns all ablaze, and folks get thrown through high windows, Everybody knows A Batmobile with jet exhaust Helps to make the season bright, Catwoman flips, cracks, and struts through the pain, Walken won't sleep well tonight He knows that Batman’s on his way, He's loaded lots of neat new weapons that don't slay And every Gotham goon will stop and whine To see ask setting clowns on fire counts as "fine" And so we’re offering this simple phrase from Burton back in ninety-two, Although it’s been said many times, many ways, It's a nightmare dressed in latex at the zoo

Clint Eastwood shows up, directs himself, scores his own movie, and lands every emotional punch.  Million Dollar Baby steps into the ring with gloves off, and we regret to inform you that this week we actually take a movie seriously. There’s a surprising amount of calm confidence in how this movie moves.  Catholic guilt doing laps around a boxing gym, Hilary Swank quietly turning in an undeniable all-timer, and all signs pointing to a conclusion that Clint Eastwood may have never been wrong about anything in his life except maybe not having Ring Dudes between rounds. So we joke, we curse, we opine about how great it must be to sound like Morgan Freeman.  They’re just fighting uphill against a story that insists on being sad in a way that’s earned, not manipulative.  What starts as a boxing drama slowly reveals itself as an existential gut punch that refuses to let us laugh our way out of it. Get your guard up and mouthpiece in, Eastwood's gonna wreck you. https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0405159/

We’re FINALY back to the queue.   Are you angry, punching someone, or in a mob negotiation?  Then Millers Crossing may be right for you.  It's a beautiful, chaotic, slang-riddled escape where everyone looks great in a hat and absolutely no one uses language the way the rest of the planet agreed English should work.  The politics are murky, the violence is constant, and half the characters sound like they were raised by bootleggers and crossword puzzles. Anthony discovers Steve Buscemi was once young enough to pass for a regular human.  Elise wonders if this is a good fit for her headspace.  Nick considers pooping someone.  Together we attempt to solve the film’s greatest mystery: how many coats, hats, and suspenders can one man wear while still being considered sexually available? So grab your hat, your emotional support bottle of whiskey, and your questionable life choices, because Miller’s Crossing has been sitting in the queue long enough and Fair Weather Geoff deserves closure. https://www.imdb.com/title/

Ok, it's FINALLY time to talk Miller's Crossing.  Talking about a real film.  A masterpiece.  A thing that involves acting and cameras that were pointed at things on purpose.  Or so we thought.  For one shining moment.   But no.  People keep dying and so instead we are here to honor the late, great Ace Frehley by wrestling with the low budget, low quality, made for TV hype-fest known as Kiss Meets the Phantom of the Park. Nick, Anthony, and Elise recount ninety six minutes of commercial breaks disguised as a movie.  Fair Weather Manny takes another hall pass and risks getting relegated to Geoff.  We get villains in underground lairs, a gorilla chained up for reasons no human can explain, Gene Simmons sounding like he swallowed a box fan, and a performance from KISS that looks exactly as good as KISS actually looks.  There are fights, mummies, kabuki dancers, malfunctioning rides, and the CONSTANT reminder: KISS is performing tonight!  This production had more ADR than plot and more confusion than continuity.

Strap into your tighty-whiteys folks, because this week we take on Something’s Gotta Give, a movie that opens with Crazy Town’s “Butterfly” and only gets more bewildering from there. Nick, Elise, and Anthony wade through a Hamptons fantasy land where everyone is wealthy beyond reason, morals take the day off, and Jack Nicholson wanders around in tighty-whiteys giving new meaning to his SAG card. We did not plan to hit this one, but Diane Keaton’s passing continues our accidental tradition of rearranging the watchlist every time Hollywood breaks our hearts. Once the shock wears off, the real questions start piling up. Why is half the cast named “Beauty,” and why does the movie treat CPR like a party trick? How is Keanu Reeves the only person behaving like he belongs in a functioning society? And at what point did Nancy Myers decide that age gaps large enough to trigger a carbon dating session should be adorable? Step aside Geoff and make room for Fair Weather Manny who decided that this is a world so disconnec

For Halloween, the crew goes into Maximum Overdrive, Stephen King’s one-and-only directorial meltdown brought to you by a truly 1980's amount of cocaine.  Angry trucks, possessed toasters, and for the love of god, will someone please tell AC/DC to shut directly the eff up. Somewhere between exploding drawbridges and the Green Goblin semi grinning like a maniac, the chaos starts to feel almost profound.  Almost. We talk killer vending machines, sleazy Bible salesmen, and the mystery of why a comet’s “space fart” would make a lawnmower homicidal.  It’s a glorious junkyard of blood, beer, and bad decisions held together by pure noise and misplaced confidence. By the end, one truth remains: this isn’t a movie to rewatch alone. It’s a social event, best shared with chemical assistance.  Consider it practice for when the machines rise up.  You’ll want someone nearby to confirm that, yes, it’s really happening. https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0091499/

Nick and Anthony return to the dojo this week to unpack Marantau, a martial arts coming-of-age story about a gap year involving a bus ride, a sewer-pipe apartment, and several felony assaults. Between righteous fury at the close-up finger-food scene and the realization that “bear-crawl fighting pajamas” are an actual thing, this episode proves enlightenment might just come one punch at a time. We wax on philosophically and wrestle with the film’s so-called spiritual journey.  Let's call it like it is: this is “Indonesian Rumspringa.” Let's marvel together at the 500 dialects of Indonesia, question the logic of subtitles that can’t agree with the dubbing, and still find time to detour into Chick-fil-A parking lot road rage. Gareth Evans may have set out to honor a martial art, but Nick and Anthony are here to celebrate every flying kick and cultural misunderstanding with equal enthusiasm. From Kevin James look-alike jokes to philosophical musings about sewer living, Marantau gets the full Rewatch Party treat

Paul Newman and Robert Redford ride again with Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, a film where outlaws rob trains, the soundtrack does acid, and everyone somehow looks like they’ve been airbrushed by God. Between the sepia intro and the bicycle ballet, we’re wondering how a movie about running from the law manages to feel like a cologne commercial. Elise remembers it from when she was seven, Anthony gets lost somewhere between “Hole in the Wall” jokes and actual geography, and Nick treats the entire script like an HR violation waiting to happen. It’s part Western, part buddy comedy, part fever dream about free cold air conditioning and dynamite etiquette. We debate whether crime really does pay, why Paul Newman was legally required to be hot, and how much dynamite is “too much” when you’re opening a safe. Also: there’s a guy named Woodcock, and that goes about how you’d expect. If you came here for film criticism, bless your heart. If you came to ruin Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head forever, well, saddle

Despite all the reasons to hate on the government, they did give us a reason to watch George Clooney, Ewan McGregor, and Jeff Bridges dropping acid in the desert while cosplaying psychic soldiers. This week, we’re finding out if truth is actually dumber than fiction with The Men Who Stare at Goats. We stare deep into the third eye of government-funded weirdness, talk mind tricks, and wonder why anyone would second-guess killing goats with brainwaves as a solid use of taxpayer money. Clooney’s rocking a mustache, McGregor’s trying not to say “Jedi,” and Jeff Bridges is vibing through Vietnam like a barefoot guru with Pentagon backing. It’s chaos with a side of hummus. We dig into psychic shenanigans, questionable soundtrack choices, and the real-life lunacy behind it all. And we can't help but hold a a heated debate about the fine art of the fart joke. Crank up the Boston, grab an energy drink, and prepare for invisible soldiers, hamsters in peril, and enough deviled egg talk to make your grandma nervous. T

Join us as we try to remember Chris Nolan’s freshmaker Memento! It’s not confusion, it’s art: a Polaroid un-developing, blood shooting back into a body, and a gun working in reverse like it’s got a refund policy. Meanwhile we’re just trying to keep our notes straight without accidentally tattooing “don’t believe his lies” on ourselves. No white or male goes unscrutinized as we question who to trust and whether a tattoo counts as a “fact”. We also chat Nolan family drama, Chicago accents, sausage debates, Sharpie jokes, and Guy Pearce’s abs (sharp enough to slice the editing timeline). It’s one of the easiest recommendations Nick will ever make, but also one most likely to send Elise into the fetal position muttering “I’m so confused” while the rest of us pretend we have a system. Tune in and unshoot this masterpiece one scene at a time.  And do yourself a favor, get a "don't give Anthony the Polaroid if you invite him into your home" tattoo now so you don't forget and regret. https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0209

Whoa.  This week we take the Red Pill back to Newest York and the post-apocalyptic doom sewers. We’re finally talking about The Matrix, a cinematic masterpiece which as far as we can tell is all about “goopy” mirrors, dial-up modem noises, OG parkour, and kleenex sales.   The numbers, the awards, and the reasons half of us somehow missed this in theaters back in 1999 are all on the table. We wrestle with whether this really is the best thing the Wachowskis ever put their fingers into, and argue about which inside jokes deserve permanent status. What’s it like to scream in a movie theater and have the manager show up? You’ll hear about that, plus sequels that broke us, and the deep question of whether pain in the real world hits your Matrix body too. They say to deny your impulses is to deny what makes us human, and we're not exactly in the denail business here. https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0133093/

Fresh off the flesh, the steaks deliver themselves on the latest episode of The Rewatch Party. Elise left Nick, Anthony, and Manny to their own devices and they're taking on Tim Burton’s 1996 sci-fi masterpiece(?): Mars Attacks!, a film pitched on a series of random alien trading cards that somehow landed a spect-ack-ack-ack-ular cast. Debate the film's minimal box office profit margin, uncover the origin of the iconic martian “ack ack ack”, and a walk down memory lane to the days of Blockbuster, Hastings, and the noody aisle.  So ultimately is this a misunderstood masterpiece or a total misfire fit only for TRUE pokemon nerds like Geoff?  Only one way to settle it.  Tune in and ack ack ack like you mean it. https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0116996/

Check our gravitational force, bitches! Welcome back to The Rewatch Party. This week, we go big blue and get loud, as it's knives out time for Zack Snyder's Man of Steel. We’re talking about the World Engines, musty atmospheres, and an opening five minutes that somehow turns Krypton into a thirst joke. We dive deep into the film that changed everything for the DC universe, and we don't pull any punches. Do we name-check James Gunn's Superman a non-zero amount of times? Yes. Is Henry Cavill’s torso treated like a national monument? Yes. We also get into the real MVP of the film: the town of Sandwich, Illinois. Also on the menu: Kal-El as space Moses and helpful tips about thumbs as a measurement system. We roast Snyder, pitch a “Lawrence Fishburn” seafood restaurant, and get into the real controversy: a neck snap while the main fight scene likely killed half a city. It's a "Lawrence Fishburn" seafood-joint pitch that somehow becomes the dream. It’s a spicy one, so come for the chaos, stay for the punchlines, a

Grab your sour-patch straws, stop sour punching your straw, and join us as we slip into the impeccably tailored, morally dubious world of The Man from U.N.C.L.E., where Henry Cavill smirks his way through the Cold War and Armie Hammer glowers in various shades of “angry Russian.” We talk about the opening Berlin chase, the world’s suavest tablecloth yank, and why Guy Ritchie clearly decided style was more important than historical accuracy—or sometimes, basic physics. Also, everyone is ridiculously good-looking, and yes, we noticed. Repeatedly. Somewhere between the CIA, the KGB, and whatever Hugh Grant is doing in this movie, there’s a plot about nuclear warheads, a fake engagement, and a fashion show that doubles as spycraft. We pick apart the “unlikely partners” dynamic, try to decide if Gaby is the actual MVP, and get distracted by the soundtrack every time Roberta Flack or Nina Simone shows up. (Seriously, this might be the most our Spotify queues have been influenced by a rewatch.) Naturally, we wander