70's Bonanza: "I Guappi" aka "Blood Brothers"

Pasquale Squiteri's "I Guappi" reveals the inauspicious entanglement of the Mafia with everyday life in nineteenth century Italy during a pivotal scene. Newcomer in town Nicola (Franco Nero), after quarreling with local Don Guatano (Fabio Testi), soon earns his trust and becomes inducted into the Cosa Nostra with a familiar ceremony that includes the pricking of fingers and solemn words. What makes the event especially unique is that it's done in a cavernous after-hours church with a priest chanting and praying as the hollow-eyed men go about their ancient methods of recruitment. The line of the sacred and the profane is blurred and "I Guappi" highlights something that's been known in history books for years- that the lifestyles of the religious and the violent are inextricably linked by generations of necessity. However, to see it so casually embraced on-screen is one of the many wonderful passages of Squiteri's subtle mafia drama.

Featuring a murderer's row of acting greats (Testi, Nero, and Claudia Cardinale as the woman caught between both men), "I Guappi" feels tailor made for each actor. Nero, as the man trying to escape a life of crime, only to be embroiled back into the most absorbent style of violence imaginable, is perfect as Nicola. Menacing and towering as the local black hand, Testi scowls and carries himself with dark presence, never afraid to back down from a fight... often deployed by simple knives, hard fists, or whips. There's nary a handgun in sight, which further belies the film's focus on the earthly means of an organization holding rule over a population by attitude and respect. Cardinale, portraying the girlfriend of Testi, (unfortunately) spends a good portion of the film cowering from the same violent hands of Testi that subjugates the people of his town. In addition to that, she suffers the wrath of the local police who see her as the weak link in a chain towards ending Don Guatano's reign. But "I Guappi" shifts its worldview in the second half to a more empowering fable where she doesn't endure pain and suffering for nothing, and with the help of newly converted Nicols to the side of the law-abiding, the film reckons with the mafia's violence.

Being the first Squiteri film I've seen, I can't say whether "I Guappi" is a forensic miracle about the minor machinations of Cosa Nostra or a steppingstone in a more obvious career. It reminded me of the films of auteur Francesco Rosi, especially "Salvatore Guiliano" (1962) and "Lucky Luciano" (1973)- films that utilize iconic figures of the mafia to tell a microscopic story of the political and practical ways in which they impacted each. In "Salvatore Giuliana", the man is only glimpsed as a corpse, and the next 2 hours are spent as his specter is refracted around the country in numerous perspectives. "Lucky Luciano" takes place after the popular mob boss has been deported back to Italy and concerns itself with the conversations, muckraking, and subterfuge involved as he helped the US Government during World War II. While "I Guappi" tackles these ideals many years before, it's no less concerned with the mundane snapshot of a lifestyle that's just as normal as that of the local grocer. It's a film that soars even more by its lack of action and popular mythmaking of a certain Cosa Nostra lifestyle. 

But even more soaring is the film's denouement that I won't completely spoil. Needless to say, it's a bravura long take that reveals the timelessness of the film's milieu while remaining firmly entrenched in that bleak 70's style that no good deed ever goes unpunished in an Italy whose violence is always bubbling just below the seams of decency.

The Current Cinema 25.1

Parthenope 

Paolo Sorrentino's latest film, "Parthenope", features so many of his affectations that mar some of his previous work. It's messy at times. Its emotions are scattershot. And it's framed and stylized like an aue du cologne commercial. All of these things are exactly why I love it so. It's messy and busting at the seams with snippets of life. Its emotions are tonally divergent (sometimes within the same scene), but when they hit, they burrow deep under the skin. And it looks gorgeous as Sorrentino's camera analyzes the beauty of skin, movement, and curtains wavering in the ocean winds. Like his aged protagonist in "The Great Beauty", Parthenope (Celeste Dalla Porta) is also searching for the very meaning of her existence.... and the two could be inverse wanderers. Starting with her birth (in the ocean as her name surmises), "Parthenope" follows the young woman from first love to retirement age as she navigates her way through all the baggage/trauma/forlorn happiness that comes with it. In typical Sorrentino fashion, there are some odd choices along the way.... some breathtakingly poignant breaks from reality into fantasy.... a soundtrack that complements the visual strategy.... and I'm certain there's a few history lessons buried within about the contentious relationship of Naples with the rest of Italy. But the overwhelming glory of "Parthenope" is how he melds all this together to create a film both introspective about how beauty is always shifting and how he maximizes the form to play like a shimmering music video. No one does it like Sorrentino.

Black Bag

My favorite type of spy film. Veins of ice-cold dialogue, low-boil tension and a single gunshot that resolves the entire mystery. Soderbergh seems to be back on it, with two films so far this year (the underwhelming "Presence" bowing in late January. This is a dialogue heavy, blink-and-you-might-miss-a-clue script that hustles along, dropping plot points with the twitch of an eye and a lie detector scene that will rank as one of the most slyly edited scenes of the year. Loved it.

Make Me Famous

Being an artist is hard. Being a starving artist, literally subsidizing one's nutritional intake on free, cheap wine at parties, and living with tumor-infested rats crawling around the room, is very hard. That's the portrait weaved by filmmaker Brian Vincent in "Make Me Famous" as he charts the existence of New York artist Edward Brezinski toiling away in the bowels of mid 1970's and early 80's New York City.... yes right in the heart of the city's dilapidated wallow of ruin after being told to "drop dead".

Full review at Dallas Film Now.

The Best Non 2024 Films I Saw in 2024

12. First Love (1978), directed by Dino Risi - I've seen a few Dino Risi films this year (mostly for the captivatingly beautiful Ornella Muti) and all I can say is that Italian sex fare has no business looking this good. Through a succession of accomplished cinematographers, including Tonino Delli Colli on this film), Risi's films take queasy romantics about the possession of a young Muti (usually) to new heights, matching the actress's uncompromising gaze with set design and exterior shots that gleam with fluidity and clarity. The film, a tale of a retiree (Ugo Tognazzi) falling in love with an 18-year-old server (Ornella Muti), could have gone wrong in so many ways. But it holds together beautifully. Sexy without being overly titillating or puerile (it's far from the usual Italian sex comedy), slyly funny without exaggeration (a line reading about someone not being a communist anymore because a molotov cocktail exploded in their house), and ultimately humane in the way the characters gently slide back into themselves after a short time of having fun together.... the film says so much about the trappings of lust with minor brushstrokes. And as already noted, the film looks incredible. Colli often frames Tognazzi and the ethereal beauty of Muti colliding in perfect stature with the Italian landscape behind them or settling within a hushed winter snowfall that feels like a purification of the rolling temperatures of Tognazzi as he strives to keep the young Muti entertained. Risi's output is varied, but "First Love" is a hidden gem.

11. Blood of My Blood (2015), directed by Marco Bellocchio

Marco Bellocchio's "Blood of My Blood" probably reveals more on repeat viewings. Maybe not. Either way, his film takes a mélange of Catholic themes (ones he's put to a more serious test in films like "Kidnapped" from this year) and tosses them into a complex two-hander comment on temptation. The first half, taking place in medieval Italy where cinema's most famous naughty nun, Benedetta, meets her tribunal fate for causing the suicide of a priest is good, but the second half abruptly shifts into modern times where the same convent is the home of an elderly vampire (literally) who finds himself tempted by the nubile charms of youth.... but not to devour (again literally) but to embrace and hold dear. It's a time shift that would make the likes of Bertrand Bonello salivate, and the eighty-year-old plus Bellocchio crafts a beguiling film where either half probably doesn't mean very much (and often starring the same actors in different roles), but feels masterful and heavy nonetheless. And that shot of an old man sitting in the back of a car as darkness and light bounces of his eyes is just brilliant. "Blood of My Blood" wants to link the past and present in bewitching ways, and Bellocchio understands that sometimes cinema is an ethereal thing that grows in beauty the less it makes sense.

10. Conquest (1983), directed by Lucio Fulci - Lucio Fulci's detour into the sword and sandal (or bow and cloth covered num-chuk) fantasy is an endlessly entertaining jaunt through a foggy wasteland of two warriors (Andrea Occhipinti and Jorge Rivero) that maintains many of the filmmaker's most beloved gore tropes. Infused with a comic book madness of treachery, this is the type of fantasy where hands pull people into the bowels of hell, gold masked witches conjure ancient warriors to do their bidding, and rock creatures blend into their surroundings until it's time to pounce. And despite those curious imaginations, there's also an adult sense of nightmare about "Conquest" that rings true for Fulci's fans, including vibrating pores of puss, snakes, ants, and a wonderfully jarring unmasking towards the end that recalls any number of the walking undead in his long oeuvre. Obviously bankrolled off the tremendous popularity for the Conan franchise in an era where international filmmaking was informed mostly by rinse-and-repeat cinematic 'bandwagonning', Fulci's "Conquest" is one of the better exploits in the genre that at least reveals the filmmaker obviously cared enough to put his own perverse spin on the capitalist attempt.

9. Between Friends (1973), directed by Donald Shebib - "Between Friends" is a low-key Canadian heist film that deals with the unsettling emotional contours of three people (2 men and a woman) waiting to commit the crime. It's refreshing to uncover a small gem like this.... a film where the action is internal and the character's act like criminals on a budget. This crime-film narrative departure is evident in the opening scenes when Toby (Michael Parks) meets up with the crew he's driven for after a robbery to split the shares. When he states his role was a one-time effort, the film doesn't devolve into false machismo or theatrics. Instead, the group's leader simply says, "okay, man. buh bye". From there, the California setting is traded for the blustery, snow-covered Toronto where Toby re-connects with old surfer friend Chino (Chuck Shamata) and his girlfriend Ellie (Bonnie Bedelia). Unbeknownst to him, Toby has already been sequestered to be the driver for a plan hatched by Chino and Ellie's father (Henry Beckman) arriving fresh from a prison stint. The mechanics of a hard-boiled thriller are firmly in place, but "Between Friends" is much more interested in the complex dynamics that emerge when Toby and Ellie fall in love. The chemistry between the two is impressive and, for most of the film, filmmaker Shebib and writer Claude Harz are content to craft a film of hang-out lethargy whose biggest mystery is will-they-or-won't-they reveal their secret affair. But the crime must go on, and when it does, the eruptions of jealousy and turmoil become a foreboding shadow. Shebib is considered a fixture in the Canadian film industry, and this film proves his merit while bemoaning the fact he didn't get to make more like it.

8. The Velvet Vampire (1971), directed by Stephanie Rothman 

Filmmaker Stephanie Rothman knows exactly what she's doing here. Like other directors given some leverage within Roger Corman's independent New World Pictures, Rothman takes a well-tread genre piece and crumbles it into a sardonic, progressive tale of female authority and softcore ribbing. A vampire tale whose setting is a desert! A lead couple who exhibits nothing but carnal beauty and lopsided dialogue. Dune buggies. Death by pitchfork. And Celeste Yarnall as the titular vampire whose nonchalance and 70's shag carpet feels like the template for all the recent postmodern attempts to capture the vibe of said era. Add some dream sequences with a fixation on wonderfully timed dissolves and an ending that sees people chasing one another in a crowded bus station with the onlookers unsure of what's happening around them, "The Velvet Vampire" is the closest thing American film has to the gauzy triumphs of Jean Rollin films.

7. Gun Crazy (1951), directed by Joseph H. Lewis - Come for the perverse allusions of gunfire equaling sex, but be bowled over by the way Joseph H. Lewis handles the carnality between John Dall and Peggy Cummings. There's a scene towards the end of "Gun Crazy" where Cummings buries her face so close to that of Dall's as they lay together in a dirty marsh that's just transfixing. Yes, Joseph H. Lewis' film is a pretty simple noir of a cross-country robbing couple (handled in some pretty impressive back seat long takes), but at its core, the film is also a lurid ode to the fantasies and steel fetishes that bring a man and woman together (penned by blacklisted Dalton Trumbo). It's been done before by masters like Nicholas Ray ("They Live by Night") and Fritz Lang ("You Only Live Once"), and "Gun Crazy" is just as good if not better than those. And coming at the tail end of the 40's noir bonanza, Lewis' film reveals that not all of the fatalism had been spent just yet. He wouldn't make another film quite like this and I'm just sorry it's taken me this long to catch up with such a stone cold great work of film noir. See it the next time it airs on Turner Classic Movies.

6. Escape From East Berlin (1962), directed by Robert Siodmak - The second film from him on this list, I've enjoyed exploring the films of Robert Siodmak.... a filmmaker who deserves more credit for navigating the shift from early European success to Hollywood compromise due to World War II like fellow compatriots Fritz Lang and Ernst Lubitsch. And politics (or the desire to flee its oppressive atmosphere) never seems far from his touch, as "Escape From East Berlin" deftly reveals. Released in 1962 (just a year after the construction of the Berlin Wall), Siodmak's film is a brilliant, taut examination of the obsessive desire to escape a country that brutally divided itself seemingly in the middle of the night. Starring Don Murphy as Karl and the luminously beautiful Christine Kaufmann as Erika, they're the young couple thrust together after Erika's brother is killed trying to literally bust through the Wall in the film's opening moments. Luckily situated in a house on the very threshold of the wall, Karl and Erika embark on a tunnel-building exercise that has to avoid all manner of East German sentries and neighborly suspicion. The atmosphere is tense, the black and white cinematography is transcendent (just watch how Erika's face is lit as she lies back on a couch in a darkened room), and "Escape From East Berlin" is especially touching for the way it handles then current events not as the prototypical espionage film that would later envelope the European escape film genre, but instead focuses on the personal stakes of a family who just want their deserved freedom.

5. Not a Pretty Picture (1976), directed by Martha Coolidge

The layers in Martha Coolidge's hybrid documentary "Not a Pretty Picture" are potent. The film deals with rape, and not only that of the filmmaker herself in 1962, but the actress portraying her (a wonderful Michele Manenti) at the same age years later..... creating a mirror of trauma abuse. We watch as the film intercuts between Coolidge's fictionalized re-telling of the event as well as the deconstruction of the emotions swirling around the actors as they rehearse. Add to the fact that this film was made and released in the mid 1970's and one soon recognizes the vibrant and raw intention of a female filmmaker examining the culture of sexual abuse as a necessary addition to the New School of American filmmaking and one that belongs in the conversation alongside so many of her male counterparts whose visions of male corrosion are widely regarded as the best of the decade. "Not a Pretty Picture" is a masterful example that expulsion of the old guard was not exclusive to Coppola, Scorsese and Cimino. While I settled for an AVI version of the film, it's wonderful to hear of its New York presentations in a remastered edition this fall.

 4. Goodbye Paradise (1983), directed by Carl Schultz - 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 Carl 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. 

3. Lux Aeterna (2019), directed by Gaspar Noe - The run of films Noe has been on during this two year period is quite astounding. As a companion piece to both "Vortex" (in its visual duality) and "Climax", "Lux Aeterna" is a brilliant chamber piece freak-out. Made with financing as a short film by the fashion house of Saint Laurent (interesting), "Lux Aeterna" runs a compact 50 minutes, but it's energy and mania feels like something akin to an epic horror movie. Starring Beatrice Dalle as a filmmaker on the set of her film about witches burned at the stake (starring Charlotte Gainsbourg), the film alternates between long takes and a nifty split-screen compression of action as the shoot rapidly dissolves into in-fighting, confusion, and ultimately a strobe light cacophony of terror and confusion. Always one to push the boundaries of narrative storytelling since flashing an intertitle that warns the viewer they have 30 seconds to leave the theater before continuing on in his late 90's masterwork "I Stand Alone", Noe doesn't give us that luxury in "Lux Aeterna" before a punishing sequence to wrap up the film. Some dismiss his work as petulant. Others are indifferent. I love what he routinely does and "Lux Aeterna" is more proof of his distinct power to disturb.

2. The Spiral Staircase (1942), directed by Robert Siodmak - 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. A gothic murder mystery. An old house whodunit. But best of all, the film is a masterwork of frame composition and atmosphere, full of red herrings and a shifting stable of wonderful acting that leaves the mystery wide open until the very end. I look forward to continuing my journey through the films of Robert Siodmak.

1. Handgun (aka Deep in the Heart), directed by Tony Garnett - British filmmaker Tony Garnett aspires (and succeeds) for far greater results than the usual revenge/exploitation genre most people think this film falls into. Yes, there are elements, but the film is also a highly evolved experiment about the tenuous lines of savage demarcation that, unfortunately, Texas still finds itself mired in today. From the "secede" t-shirts that some characters sport.... to the very disturbing preamble given by one knife wielding salesman in a diner (credited to a Bob Rankin- who was this creepy guy with skeletal white hands???)... and especially the large run time given to conversations about the nature of guns and colonialism involved in the founding of the South, "Handgun" is essentially a western overlayed on the bare framework of a 1981 revenge thriller.  And it's marvelous. Karen Young (later of "Sopranos" fame) is terrific as a young teacher whose personality is split after being sexually assaulted. I doubt there's a more allegorical scene of someone's inner transition from innocent to scarred than the unbroken scene of a pair of scissors methodically clumping off a head of hair. And while the film simmers towards its violent conclusion, it's most angry about the inactivity of anyone in power (the police or even the church) to help her. I gasped several times as the patience of "Handgun" creates such an enveloping atmosphere around Young's angry descent, never forgetting she's a real person and not an exploitation film caricature. Simply one of the best films of the 1980's.

The Current Cinema 24.5

 The Remarkable Life of Ibelin

I never played World of Warcraft, but as someone who grew up alongside the burgeoning Internet, the idea of a faceless community turning into a curated online family is something I certainly experienced. Hours of my teenage life were spent making friends through various chat rooms and online message boards where the words (and subtle meanings expressed behind them) generated pathos and appreciation for people I never, and would never, actually meet. But the sense of fraternity was always present. Benjamin Ree's "The Remarkable Life of Ibelin" is the best film to ever document what it felt like to be a part of a very small corner of that dot-and-blip universe. Following the short life of a young disabled man and his immersion into the computer gaming world before his death, the documentary then takes an affirmative turn when his parents send an innocent message out across the web. What comes back to them is recreated in animated form as the film shows just exactly how valuable and powerful even the smallest actions can be..... whether it's in the real or virtual world.

The Order

Based on the real-life case of an FBI agent's cat-and-mouse investigation into the crimes of a white supremacist organization who've split from a larger community, Justin Kurzel's "The Order" is lean, grizzled, and bolstered by strong performances. Kurzel has always been fascinated with true crime stories (see his "Snowtown" and "Nitram"), but "The Order" is his most accomplished and clear-eyed exploration yet, complete with robbery shoot-outs and a barn-burning finale that understands the tension of logistics. Granted, Jude Law (as the agent obsessed with the policeman bringing along fresh eyed Tye Sheridan) isn't a largely complex character, but "The Order" succeeds becasue it feels like something ripped out of the no-nonsense 1970's where back story is just a marginal reason for guilt and the real complexity lies in the compulsive need to maintain law in an orderless wild west. I doubt this film will be in theaters long, so seek it out when you can.

The Current Cinema 24.4

Anora 

For all its anxiety inducing set pieces, the most masterful thing about Sean Baker's electric "Anora" is that all the controlled chaos only makes the quiet, reflective moments that much more powerful. As the title character, Mikey Madison gives a ferociously alive portrayal of a woman caught up in a spiral of very messed-up hide and seek when her newlywed Russian husband goes missing, and his very powerful family's goons push her along in their sweaty, nocturnal search. Perched between desperate vulnerability and hilarious, Three Stooges-like humor, "Anora" throttles along with the speed and emotional ingenuity that's been brewing in Baker's oeuvre for a long time now. Whether it's the wind-swept beauty of bodies hustling alongside Coney Island or the half-observed face of Madison as she slinks down in the front seat of an SUV and cries, "Anora" is Baker's masterpiece that captures the ragged beauty of both the interior and exterior.

Blitz

Steve McQueen's World War II drama "Blitz" comes at one in unexpected ways. A double story about survival and the fire borne horrors of Germany's incessant bombing of London during 1940, mother (Sairose Ronan, again brilliant) and son (newcomer Elliot Hefferman) are separated early on in the film when parents are encouraged to evacuate their children for safety. From there, the emotional weight is posited on how each one survives the blitzkrieg- mother joining the ranks of those trying to help those sheltering in the underground stations, and son hopping off the train and trying to make his way back to London. If "Blitz" doesn't completely succeed, it's in the Dickinsian tale of George that strikes a few notes of imbalance, namely his short time with a gang of corpse robbers led by the menacing Stephen Graham. At times, McQueen loses ahold of the tone, but it often recovers and becomes an excitingly lensed and movingly scored film about the things that keep people moving forward during times of crisis.

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.