The Current Cinema 24.3

The Breaking Ice

Nana (Zhou Dongyu) is a tour guide whose dropped off the face of the earth from her family, constantly dreaming about her previous life as a figure skater before an accident injured her body. Hao Feng (Liu Haoran) is a tourist in town for a wedding who seems to be enamored with dangling his body on the edges of tall places and almost daring himself to jump. Han Xiao (Qu Chuxiao) is a friend of Nana, barely living as a delivery boy for his family's restaurant that serves most of the tourists. With beguiling ease, this trio become friends (and partly lovers) over the course of a few days, dancing in strobe-lit techno clubs and flirting with the cold exterior of their Yangi province. Directed by Anthony Chen with masterful attention to the tender vagaries of these people all suffering with some unspoken trauma, "The Breaking Ice" thankfully eschews the menage-a-trois popularity of recent dramas and mines its own path of quiet sadness and connection. There are touching moments here that would feel cheapened by the lurid appeal of simply switching partners, and Chen's narrative makes clear that each character needs to find their own way out of the (literal) wilderness and piece back together something. Like the title, these are twenty-somethings just trying to manage not to fall into the abyss. A sweeping soundtrack, snatches of images that are brilliantly composed (just watch the skating park scene as Nana watches on), and a bittersweet finale all create one of the year's best films.

Cuckoo

I love the choices Hunter Schaefer has made post-Euphoria. From answering a letter from Yorgos Lanthimos to "come out and play" in "Kinds of Kindness" to this latest role as a seventeen-year-old trapped in the clutches of a madman at an Alps resort, Schaefer shows adventurous promise. And Tilman Singer also continues to show promise. Mixing together Euro-horror vibes with a fluorescent-lit, single location shootout finale, Singer carries forward some of the doom-laden theatrics that made his previous film, "Luz" partially effective. Even if cohesive narrative storytelling it's his bag, "Cuckoo" manages to stir together some wonderfully eerie imagery in a post-modern tale of Doctor Moreau DNA scrambling.

The Eye is Watching: On Robert Siodmak's "The Spiral Staircase"

My exploration of the films of Robert Siodmak continues, and, dare I say, his best films have been the ones that aren't readily available for mass market consumption. Yes, "The Killers" (1946) and "Criss Cross" (1949) are film noir staples, but films such as his late career effort "Escape From East Berlin" (1962) and the mid 40's "Phantom Lady" (1944) have been revelatory viewings for me. And now comes "The Spiral Staircase"..... a film so boldly envisioned in its proto-giallo terrors and so confident in its visual scheme that I want to shout to the rooftops about a Siodmak retrospective that deserves to be seen by.... anyone.

In "The Spiral Staircase", someone is murdering invalid women in Northeastern town and the police are stumped. In its opening moments, we're privy to one of these murders as a woman is attacked in her upstairs room, being hunted by someone hiding in her dresser. In the perfect encapsulation of voyeurism and maniacal impulse, the killer is glimpsed by his eye (that soon encompasses the entire screen) right before her murder. It's no surprise the 'close-up eyeball' is that of Siodmak himself.... a cameo that probably made Hitchcock effusively jealous.

But after this introductory moment of terror, "The Spiral Staircase" narrows its focus on a sprawling mansion on the outskirts of town where the family who lives there- plus its servants- are stuck as a ferocious thunderstorm blows outside. The ailing matriarch (Ethel Barrymore), her sons (George Brent and Gordon Oliver) and, most innocently, the nurse's assistant Helen played wonderfully by Dorothy McGuire. The stakes are raised further as Helen is a mute woman, traumatized by experiences earlier in her life, which makes her a prime target for the killer who, as we've seen previously, stalked her towards the large mansion in a scene of masterful light and shadow staging that feels like required mise-en-scene for any horror filmmaker wanting to startle with the introduction of a monstrous serial killer.

From this humble set-up, "The Spiral Staircase" proceeds to raise red herrings, observe as a killer stalks those in the house, and becomes the obvious blueprint for decades of giallo and haunted house whodunits. The fact that Helen is mute also establishes the film as an early purveyor of the trauma-induced heroine whose screams are left to the audience.

Coming midway through Siodmak's extremely proficient 1940's output that saw him draft some of the most influential noirs and thrillers of its period, "The Spiral Staircase" continues to reveal his mastery of camera angle, lighting, and inherent joy of withholding. Siodmak is a filmmaker obviously indebted to the off-screen menace, whether it's the hands of a killer in "Phantom Lady" (1944) or the gaze of a killer who only sees the infallibility of a person in their staircase mirror reflection in this film. For the mid-40's this is heady terror, matched only by the atmospheric, metaphoric underpinnings of someone like Jacques Tourneur. And when we do find out who the killer is, "The Spiral Staircase" swings at some metaphoric allusions of its own.... putting to bed notions of generational toxicity and giving voices back to those who seem to deserve it most. 

The Current Cinema 24.2

 The Sweet East

From its opening few minutes when teenager Lillian (a vibrant Talia Ryder) sings a song into a streaky restroom mirror and then erupts on an Alice In Wonderland-like vaunt across a funky, ideologically dangerous swath of the Northeast, Sean Price Williams' "The Sweet End" had me hooked. From that jumping off point, the film follows Lillian through about seven different genres as she leaves her old life behind and becomes the ethereal memento for a wide variety of denizens of an ever-shifting environment- from activist punks to shady White Nationalist incels to a fast-talking filmmaking duo who solicit her for their movie, "The Sweet East" is erratic, jagged, and at times exhausting. But it's also extravagantly beautiful and bursting with nervous life and a central performance by Ryder that stands as one of the most beguiling of the year. She not only holds the center of an effort that has her in the clutches of so many divergent characters, she remains wholly believable. And separating itself from the pitfalls of mumblecore presentations and low-budget naval gazing (like the recent Ross Brothers film "Gasoline Rainbow"), "The Sweet East" actually has something to say about the pungent state of America today. The fact that Ryder and filmmaker Williams end on a slight barrier-breaking smile and glance at the camera, "The Sweet East" also comments that perhaps the kids might be okay.

Horizon: An American Saga

Well, as I write this, the news comes out that Chapter 2 of Kevin Costner's ambitious western epic has been pushed from its August release date due to the financial shortfalls of this first one. Regardless of audience turnout, I thoroughly enjoyed Costner's languorous, multi-storied weave of three tales about the expansion of the West. I especially enjoyed the ten-minute saunter up a hill while Costner and a short-tempered outlaw (Jamie Bower) make conversation and draw out the tension that both are headed to the exact same spot. I don't think I've ever seen that before. And while this unique first bit of narrative gamesmanship isn't replicated in the rest of the film's somewhat cliched storylines, I admire how Costner's vision of repealing the television mini-series in favor of adult entertainment in a theater plays out. And, I have to say, the thundering final few moments..... giving us glimpses and scenes that (hopefully) will be unspooled in Chapter 2..... is a sneaky way to self-market and whet the appetite for those few of us who still believe in the archetypal glories of the big screen western.

Longlegs

Oz Perkins' new film "Longlegs" succeeds wildly despite its flaws. First of all, it's muddled and somewhat miserable in its attempts to be a police procedural. Just how does FBI agent Harker (Maika Monroe) decode those letters and why is everything so heightened? Perkins also snatches pretty much every exaggerated tendency of the deranged serial killer over the years and congeals a maddening cocktail for his titular enemy. However, all of this is made clear as the film progresses, and "Longlegs" wants to comment on something more than the nuts and bolts of police vs. criminal mind. There's a reason Monroe's performance is glassy-eyed and twitchy (a role that Monroe makes look very simple behind a complex internalization), and as the first half propels into the second, the atmosphere and angular sense of dread and hazy recollection becomes all too clear... and even poignant. And while some of Perkins' discomforting ideas fall a bit flat (the emphasis on glam-rock especially), the idea that evil hides among us in clear daylight is something horror/psychological terror films have been grappling with for years, and "Longlegs" goes right for the jugular with it. Would make an awesome double feature with "It Follows" as well.

The Last Few Films I've Watched, Spring edition

1. Furiosa (2024) - I liked "Fury Road" (2015). "Furiosa" is a masterpiece. It's a film that deepens, strengthens, and expands on filmmaker George Miller's imaginatively conceived brutal wasteland of post apocalypse Australia. Stretching back to the early 80's, Miller's violent brushstrokes have always generated cathartic thrills, but with "Furiosa", the focus on certain people within the barren landscape have added a real gravitas to the barbaric modes of survival, and with Anya Taylor Joy (and to a large degree the young performance of Alyla Browne who gives an equally wordless, soulful performance), Miller's franchise has found a worthy beating heart of revenge that was built up in "Fury Road", and now is given vengeful dimension here. Pretty much breathtaking from its opening scene, "Furiosa" is also a masterclass in how to film action sequences. Crisp, fluid, and edited to a propulsive sense of rhythm that is lost in most big budget action spectacles, "Furiosa" also wins in its maximalism.

2. Hidden Agenda (1991) - Recently read Rory Carroll's excellent "There Will Be Fire" and I'm revisiting some films whose backdrop is built around The Troubles. Excellent Ken Loach film that I saw twenty years ago, and while it's narrative focuses more on a diabolical political conspiracy than the fighting troubles, it's basis in history is compelling and the way Cox and McDormand slowly involve themselves with the ordinary, weary people of the struggle is interesting. And its ending reminded me of "The French Connection"..... a character still blindly running into the abyss to find the shadows that are haunting them.

3. Marie Octobre (1959) - Part of my wanting to see as many Lino Ventura films as possible. Julien Duvivier's drama about the gathering of Resistance fighters a decade later, trying to figure out who betrayed them years ago. The Resistance eats itself.

4. Handgun (1983) - A landmark revelation for me, and one of the best films of the 1980's. Karen Young (later of "Sopranos" fame) stars as a young teacher who moves to Dallas and is sexually assaulted. Far from the rigors of a standard exploitation film, British filmmaker Tony Garnett aims (and succeeds) for far greater comments about violence and our country's insane fascination with guns. Recently released on Fun City edition blu-ray. See this film!

5. Poolman (2024) - Ugh. Chris Pine's zany noir namechecks "Chinatown" several times, and that's the most interesting than about his directorial debut. And how unconscionable that a film so enamored with saving Los Angeles history that it barely ventures off its garish soundstage sets.

6. The Beast (2023) - I typically adore Bertrand Bonello and had high expectations for "The Beast". Dare I say it's one of the more pretentious film in years.

7. I Saw the TV Glow (2023) - Trippy, adventurous film about memory and identity. Film review here at Dallas Film Now.  

8. Unfrosted (2024) - Ok, I laughed quite a few times. Probably being unfairly maligned due to Seinfeld's recent poo-poo of a comment. But, his humor is imprinted all over this minor comedy ("Vietnam. Well THAT sounds like a good idea") and there are less unmitigated disasters on the streaming services.

9. Just a Gigolo (1978) - Directed by actor David Hemmings and starring David Bowie? Sign me up. Alas, this film about the allure of fascism in post World War I Germany suffers from monotone acting and a story that never really takes off. At times, it oddly reminded me of Fassbinder's "Berlin Alexanderplatz" which would come out two years later. Strange.

10. Fireflies in the North (1984) - One of the few Hideo Gosha I hadn't seen. As usual, it looks beautiful in the service of a story that's been told a thousand times, enhanced by Gosha's expert framing of quick violence. Taking place in a frigid prison town and the conflicting tempers of several people. 

On "Evil Does Not Exist"

One of the best films of the year, Ryusuke Hamaguchi's "Evil Does Not Exist"is a tantalizing, challenging wonder. Part eco-thriller, but mostly a deliberate drama about the entrenching scale of urban growth into peaceful forestry, Hamaguchi employs his distinctive observational style to subtly shift gears between both. Imagine if Frederick Wiseman film were present in this peaceful natural village to film a board meeting about the possibilities of tourism advancement versus the quiet disdain of its townsfolk. For about twenty minutes, this is what we get, and (like Wiseman's films) it's an utterly mesmerizing act of ebb and flow emotion as the villagers raise their concerns, and the two Japanese mouthpieces deflect their concerns.

Outside of that, "Evil Does Not Exist" primarily focuses on the quiet day-to-day activities of Takumi (Hitoshi Omika) and his daughter Hana (Ryo Nishikawa). They live off the land.... he chops wood.... helps a local food establishment owner collect water for their udon noodle shop.... and Hana wanders the woods experiencing all of its natural glories. That's the lulling rhythm the film settles into, until the aforementioned Japanese company decides to build a "glamping" site nearby for upscale outdoor tourism. Dividing the film down the middle as before and after the existential ecological disaster comes upon Takumi and his fellow villagers, "Evil Does Not Exist" then dovetails into unexpected narrative sidelines as it shifts focus from the serene ways of Takumi to the corporate shells caught in the middle (Ryuki Kosaka and Ayaka Shibutani). It's in the second half that Hamaguchi lays clear the title of the film. Everyone is doing what they think is right and the only casualty is the perception of those involved. It's a master stroke of storytelling, reverting expectation and providing a broad, gentle ethos to everyone involved.

And then there's that ending. Initially shocking.... outwardly confusing, but upon introspection (which is needed for all of Hamguchi's films), it makes perfect sense. All along, the film has been establishing the worrisome encroachment of civilization on an environment that is completely natural and subsistent to simple people. The main point of contention- a septic tank for the glamping site that will surely contaminate all the water downstream- is just the least of Takumi's fears. For most of the film, daughter Hana is a virtually wordless, wide-eyed young girl wandering by herself through the woods. Without completely spoiling the shattering finale, Hamaguchi seems to be saying that no outside force should dare touch the innocence of Hana. If father Takumi can't, ultimately, stop the impending ecological disaster of big business, he can stop the metaphorical poisoning of anyone coming close to Hana. Alongside Eiko Ishibashi's mournful score, "Evil Does Not Exist" is a masterpiece of shifting storytelling, intelligent underpinnings, and shimmering cinematography that ranks as one of the best films in Hamaguchi's now renowned career.

Camera Obscura: "Goodbye Paradise"

If I were sculpting a Mount Rushmore of neo-noir sleuths, the first would be Elliot Gould's Marlowe in "The Long Goodbye". The second would be Jeff Lebowski. Obviously, I love my "detectives" to be reluctantly oblivious, slightly impaired, and wholly suited for solving the case by allowing the devious world to open up its secrets in time without doing much except sulking around. Now add Michael Stacey (Ray Barrett) and "Goodbye Paradise" to the mountain. My first exposure to this niche of film noir called 'Gold Coast noir' (and I welcome more suggestions!), "Goodbye Paradise" is a lazy beast of a film. As the alcoholic, tie-askew ex-policeman asked to find the missing daughter (Janet Scrivener) of a politician, "Goodbye Paradise" devolves into a shaggy-dog tale of new age religious cults, assassins, bully cops, and old military friends with terrifying new ideals about the social economics of New South Wales. And through it all, Barrett inhabits Stacey as a man who'd much rather be bouncing amongst karaoke bars and drinking himself silly with the prospects of being a hardboiled writer. And if his inner monologue is anything like his scrapped novel, we've all missed out on Queensland's answer to Raymond Chandler. But solve the mystery he eventually does, bedding beautiful women and being the desire of young ones along the way, while witnessing the country come apart at the seams. More than a film noir (although its allusion to other great Goodbye films and pulp novels), "Goodbye Paradise" feels like the template for so many Coen Brothers movies, that I searched long and hard for any mention of this film out of the Brothers' mouths. Alas, there are none. But despite that, filmmaker Carll Schultz (whose biggest title is the Demi Moore psychological horror film "The Seventh Sign" several years later) has crafted a film so full of dazzling energy and subtle humor, that when things do go crazy in the finale, we believe the shenanigans because Stacey the cop has fumbled through the mystery right alongside us.... and seems to be the only one keeping his sanity. Marlowe and Jeff Lebowski would be proud. The world changed, he didn't, which seems like an integral part of the sleuth in way over his head.

The Current Cinema 24.1

 Origin

In "Origin", Ava DuVernay takes a sweeping nonfiction book and not only manages to weave a heartfelt portrait of the author herself, but illuminate the thesis of the narrative with a magnificent, globe trotting  vision. From Nazi-era Germany, to the Jim Crow infested American South, to the inhumane treatment of a certain sect of people in India, "Origin" almost becomes an overwhelming viewing experience for the way it plots Isabel Wilkinson's ideas about the caste system around the world while maintaining the emotional pull of a woman (Anjanue Ellis-Taylor) whose own personal life is spiraling towards grief. Sound, score, acting.... all the components merge here in what is probably DuVernay's finest work to date. Certain moments in "Origin" hit me so hard. It's a film whose sobering outlook on the subconscious manipulation of the world by certain power groups, at times, pales in comparison to the indominable spirit of those awake enough to fight back. One of the year's best.

Perfect Days

Wash. Rinse. Repeat. That's the rhythm Wim Wenders establishes in this peaceful, warm look at a janitor (Koji Yakusho) and his day-to-day routines. Those routines soon reveal tiny fissures (a manic co-worker and a visit from a family member), but "Perfect Days" fits solidly into Wenders' body of work. There are plenty of driving scenes timed to American rock 'n' roll and, even though the film takes place entirely in the city of Tokyo (which Wenders milks for all its florid beauty and concrete magic), the whole things still feels like a road movie. A few flourishes miss the mark (such as the appearance of a male figure towards the end of the film that seems shoehorned in to emit some schmaltzy magic realism), but overall "Perfect Days" is Wenders best film in some time.

Drive Away Dolls

If there's one thing the recent split of Joel and Ethan Coen has taught us, it's that each one certainly has a distinctive worldview that meshes their films into the audacious and compelling potpourri they've been delivering for more than 30 years now. Whereas Joel seems to be the more ponderous of the duo (i.e. probably where "A Serious Man", "Barton Fink" and "Inside Llewyn Davis" comes from) Ethan bends towards the cartoonish. And based on the humor and bawdy outlook given off by his "Drive Away Dolls", I'm tempted to say "Raising Arizona" is certainly all his. Alas, I still wasn't completely taken by "Drive Away Dolls" even though the laughs are dialed up to eleven and the tone swings wildly from scene to scene. Part of the problem are the two leads, played for all the gusto by the Texwas-twanged Margaret Qualley and the prim, buttoned Geraldine Viswanathan. As the latest in a string of Coen-esque protagonists on the lam and falling into various predicaments that ranges from the horny to the horrific, they feel like paper-thin representations of comedy. Add to it a tone that never quite finds its footing and "Drive Away Dolls" may be my most least liked Coen endeavor in quite some time. I do give it props for totally upending my expectations of just what exactly is in the briefcase, though.