Shocktoberfest

Dracula Has Risen From the Grave

The third Dracula incarnation from the Hammer studios and director Terence Fisher is the best. Christopher Lee returns as the master of darkness after skipping the second film, and his presence was highly missed. This time around he seeks revenge on the priest who hung a crucifix on his castle door and ends up terrorizing a young couple. All Hammer films have a distinctive look, but “Dracula Has Risen…” frames the character of Dracula in a beautiful and expressive manner, full of gaudy yellows, bright reds and nauseating greens for full effect. His entrances are especially elegant as well. And just when the wholesome, innocent Maria (Veronica Carlson) arrives, one knows she’ll be a rapt target for Dracula. The sensuality (and even kinkiness) of this Dracula tale is turned up and it all makes for a wonderfully atmospheric experience.


The Silent Scream

Unfortunately, the film’s opening scene- lighted as if it was Conrad Hall shooting “The Godfather” and timed to the super slow motion images of a group of policemen running into a house and discovering a grisly murder scene- isn’t sustained for the remainder of the film. There’s still much to be appreciated in Denny Harris “Psycho” rip off, though, including Italian scream queen Barbara Steele in a weirdly psychotic role and the director’s love for black glove Argento-style first person death scenes.




A Day of Judgment

A horror film in the most skeletal of terms, Chris Reynolds early 80’s obscura is more of a religious allegory. A small town in depression era 1920’s is rampant with its townsfolk breaking the commandments. There’s the local clerk having an affair with his boss’s wife, the gas station owner who schemes to put away his mother and father in a retirement home and the local banker who places the almighty dollar above all else. Things are amorally bankrupt until the Grim Reaper comes into town. Obviously wanting to be taken seriously, “A Day of Judgment” drags a bit in places, slowly forming the background of its characters before the Reaper makes his presence known. No amount of imagination is left in the tank, though, when the Reaper does eventually show up. Disguised in very little light, director Reynolds creates an eerie specimen that feels like the forbearer to Freddy Kruger.




Humanoids From the Deep

From the stable of Corman classics, director Barbara Peeters (that must be a pseudonym, no?) takes a low budget idea and spins an entertaining low budget yarn, complete with dismembered teens and lots of gunfire as large latex-suit fish monsters wreck havoc on a Pacific coastal town. The underlying theme of scientific research gone horribly wrong is glossed over. In the right hands, “Humanoids From the Deep” could have been a terrific eco-thriller, but c’mon, this is 1979 and the film wants to entertain and shock. Newly released on Blu-ray, I suppose the film has its share of supporters.

The House Where Evil Dwells

Think of a Japanese “Amityville Horror”. A couple (the luscious Susan George and Edward Albert) move into a Tokyo house where a hideous act of murder and hara-kiri were performed. The spirits of the troubled threesome slowly possess the new couple, driving them to act out their fatal denouements two hundred years later. Part of the scares in this film are efficient, but more of it is laughable. The weird scene in which a group of crabs torment a young girl is alternatively grotesque and side splittingly funny.

On First and Lasts

The Texas Rangers did it. Pushing it to five games on an opposing team's home turf isn't the ideal way to pull out a series win, but they did it. I officially have no fingernails left.

But it's all bittersweet. My family and I buried my father this week. Honestly, if the Rangers hadn't won today, I don't know if I could have dealt with everything. No, that's a lie. I could and would. When life throws you a curve ball, things like baseball and movies become menial activities. They help us cope.... take our mind off the loss... allow us to zone out and live in a fictionalized world where we can act like participants and believe we affect the outcome.... but its all nonexistent when someone you love dies. Yet its fitting that the Rangers won today. My dad is the one who transposed his love of baseball onto me and my family. An ardent admirer of the Yankees- and as my mom said tonight, it's going to be hard to root against either team in the ALCS- my father was the one who first put a baseball in my hand, watched me pitch throughout junior high and nervously sulked whenever I pitched in a game. As a kid, growing up in the small town of McGregor about 20 miles south of Waco, the stories from old friends of his are pouring in... describing long days of playing baseball and of the time the Yankees played an exhibition game in that small town in the mid 50's and my dad ran down the street, eventually catching up with the Yankees bus and having them all sign a baseball that sits on my parent's shelf today.

We collected baseball cards together (and he generously bought my entire collection when I was 12 or 13 and felt as if I'd outgrown the hobby, thereby keeping the cards in the family) and purchased cards off Ebay until his death. He was a hoarder... a fervernt list maker (one should see the stacks of notebooks with lists, want lists etc) and a history lover as he earned his bachelor's degree in the subject. He also passed over his love of movies to me. I'll never forget him coming home one day and watching a movie called "Goodfellas". I was 14 at the time and he told me I would appreciate this movie. I watched it, and that's the first movie that I remember recognizing a commanding presence behind the camera, exposing cinema as something more than my repeat viewings of "Pete's Dragon" or "Popeye" could ever reveal. He took me to R rated movies such as "Bull Durham" and "Beverly Hills Cop", understanding and respecting the fact that I understood the difference in artificial realities and the world we lived in. He respected me and I always loved him for that. Even further, I vividly remember the nights we'd saunter up to the church on the hill from our house, having a clear view of a drive-in theater across the highway, watching "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom" and trying to recall the dialogue together. It's the small moments such as these that feel so insignificant at the time, but reap huge benefits today.

My father wasn't always the best communicator and he was unconditionally hard on himself mentally for various reasons. My mother said he often commented that he had not been a good father. I would not have wanted any other father. His spirit, his generosity and his respect for intelligence have been so deeply instilled in my brother and I, that his influence is without question. My family will move on... we already miss our father dearly, but it's up to us to lead our lives in his wonderful example. Love ya dad.

70's Bonanza: The Medusa Touch

Jack Gold's "The Medusa Touch" would make a fine double bill alongside Jerzy Skolimowski's "The Shout". Both films feature confused men who believe their inner thoughts and outward emotions can cause disaster and death. While "The Shout" is certainly more of an avant garde affair, "The Medusa Touch" is a Saturday afternoon type of serial that plays inoffensively with its heavy subject. In fact, director Jack Gold did most of his work in television, and "The Medusa Touch" is specifically lacking in cinematic qualities. This doesn't mean it's bad by any stretch of the means, it just trades in a flat, matter-of-fact editing and visual style that loses nothing in translation from big screen to small. And with high caliber stars such as Richard Burton, Lee Remick and Lino Ventura, "The Medusa Touch" understands that name recognition is the way to go.

A novelist (Burton) begins a therapy session with a psychiatrist (Remick) in which he discusses his ability to cause mayhem through telekinesis. His history and story-within-a-flashback (including his admissions to Remick) are gradually investigated by a detective (Ventura) after he's found murdered in his apartment. Ventura, as the pesky, dedicated detective receives the largest amount of screen time, and it's his perspective on the supposed mystical ability of Burton that fuels the story. But unlike "The Shout" which casts an aura of psychological wonder over the whole affair, "The Medusa Touch" is much more simplistic and fairy-tale like. The denouement, which features a crumbling church on scale with the hokey disaster films of the 70's, lays no doubt at the feet of Burton's psychic powers, reveling in the destruction of collapsing paper-mache blocks and overacting on behalf of the poor minions stuck inside the building. Again, "The Medusa Touch" does not strive for serious art-film acclaim. It's fun, weirdly different and a great example of a great actor slumming a bit.

My experiences with Burton and Ventura are far more knowing than that of Remick. Recently spotlighted on TCM in a variety of roles, her performance in "The Medusa Touch" is especially interesting. As the cold, calculated, buttoned-up psychiatrist who is forced to keep Burton's secrets, she exudes a simmering tension. The narrative eventually explains this tension, but it's a good performance in a film that could have easily been overshadowed by the thespian precision of Burton. Sadly, "The Medusa Touch" has been lost in the annuls of home video. Like the previously highlighted post on Kenji Fukusaku's "Virus", "The Medusa Touch" is big, goofy Saturday afternoon fun.

Breakout Artist 2010: Andrew Garfield

Anytime an actor has two films currently in circulation, as well as being pegged to play Spiderman in the upcoming franchise reboot, it's easy to say he's pretty much made it as an actor. But before "The Social Network" opened to critical acclaim this past weekend, Andrew Garfield probably wasn't identifiable as a house hold name just yet. And in reality, even though I'm probably in the minority for not doing handstands over "The Social Network", Garfield has been universally singled out as the real main character of Fincher's icy trip into early 2000's dot com explosions headed by geek sociopath Mark Zuckerberg (Jesse Eisenberg). Garfield's portrayal of Zuckerberg's college chum, initial partner and money investor Eduardo Savarin holds the audience key to empathy in an otherwise distant examination of upper class Harvard blowhards. It's also his scene, when he realizes he's been pinched out of the financial windfall of the now international Facebook idea, that holds the most zing in "The Social Network". Garfield's expression of betrayal and momentary reclamation of his emotions is a thing of beauty in a film that chooses to avoid emotions. This is why "best supporting actor" awards were invented.


Garfield first popped up on the radar in 2007 as the troubled youth running from his past in John Crowley's understated "Boy A". Encompassing each frame of that film with a tense presence, Garfield projected the uncomfortable sense that the camera couldn't hold him if he wanted to dash away. Yet when the film called for him to settle into the pose of a well-adjusted twenty something as he goes on dates with a fellow co-worker, Garfield immediately flipped a switch and turned the dangerous into something timid, unsure of himself and tongue tied. It may seem easy to portray a damaged soul, but Garfield takes things to another level in "Boy A", aided by a superb script and melancholy finale.

After his role as the intellectual doubter in Robert Redford's "Lions For Lambs", Garfield's next amazing performance came in "1974" of the "Red Riding Trilogy", a triplet of films so brutal, so well structured and intimate that I watched them in a complete five hour sitting and they still remain as one of the very best films of 2010. While each episode has its strengths, Garfield kicks the torrid affair off as new investigative reporter Eddie Dunsford who comes into the town of Yorkshire, prodding his stagnant peers and the local police to look beyond the obvious when a series of schoolgirls are found murdered over 6 years. It's his investigation that eventually emanates through the next two films, "1980" and "1983", uncovering webs of police corruption and perversion. Garfield makes a convincing turn from cocky journalist to bloodied avenger, but again, it's the warmer moments that define his performance. During his investigation, Garfield comes in contact with the mother of one of the murdered girls (another actress on the rise both overseas and here, Rebecca Hall). His questioning about the young girl's death butt up against the sorrow of a mother, and it's a refreshing compromise made by both actors in the scene that plays out with real emotion instead of a rote narrative. For what its worth, Garfield is great here, but Rebecca Hall breaks my heart in this film.


I've skipped over two performances, namely the weird (what else) Terry Gilliam film "The Imaganarium of Doctor Parnassus" which finds Garfield playing the mortal dreamer in a universe of imagination. It's not a bad performance by any means, its just always hard to find the acting propensity in Gilliam's overly decorated and saturated fairy tales. The other current film in rotation for Garfield is Mark Romanek's "Never Let Me Go", which I'll hopefully catch later this week. Judging by the previews, Garfield gives another knockout performance.

Reading through viewer comments about "The Social Network" on several blogs these past few days, it's clear that audience enthusiasm is lagging behind critical appreciation a bit, but everyone singles out Garfield's performance. In just three years, Garfield has materialized into something special. I predict a certain gold statue in his life very soon.

Whole Lotta Reviews

The Town


Desperate to be a muscular, modern take on “Heat”, Ben Affleck’s sophomore film suffers from many of the same faults as his debut “Gone Baby Gone”…. except this time he doesn’t have the nuanced acting graces of brother Casey Affleck and Michelle Monahan. Working in the Boston crime milieu (which, by the way, is getting old reeeaaly fast), the problem with “The Town” is twofold. First, the aforementioned acting nuance is gone, replaced by over the top performances of first rate actors like Jeremy Renner and Pete Postelwaithe who emphatically carry their dialogue. By the time Affleck and Renner come to blows in front of graveyard, in broad daylight with guns blazing, my interest checked out. Secondly, the script by Affleck and fellow writers Peter Craig and Aaron Stockard attempt to create empathy for the criminals, while the inherently more calculating character of Jon Hamm (as the FBI agent tracking the crew) is treated as a bumbling key stone cop, full of taunting letters left on his car and an interrogation that plays up Affleck’s smarter-than-thou attitude. One thing can be said for “Heat”- Michael Mann understands how to create multi-faceted characters on both sides of the law. With “The Town”, I was rooting against Affleck and his crew. Even more narcissistic is the film’s stance on a believable relationship between kidnapper and victim (the beautiful Rebecca Hall who is wasted here), morphing into some kind of longing romance complete with a bittersweet Julia Roberts-like ending. All around, just a confused, terrible mess.


Spring Fever


“Sushou River”. “Purple Butterfly”. “Summer Palace”. Three straight up masterpieces from Sixth Generation filmmaker Lou Ye. While “Spring Fever” doesn’t quite reach that status, it’s still a terrifically moving revolving door of romance, both straight and gay. Hired to spy on a woman’s cheating husband, a photographer (Wei Wu) becomes involved in the relationship as well. Consistent with his other films, it takes a while to smooth into the flow of Le’s crash cutting and cavalcade of men and women, but once one gets their bearings, “Spring Fever” continually energizes and excites. Banned from filmmaking due to his smuggling of “Summer Palace” into the Cannes Film Festival a few years ago, “Spring Fever‘s” jittery, dash-and-go cinematography perfectly syncs up with the unfettered sways of emotion between his characters. And the final third of the film, when Le jettisons any real narrative thrust and focuses his camera on the lackadaisical meanderings of his three central characters as they dance, take a boat ride and wait for the inevitable, really soars.


The Social Network

I guess “The Social Network” is this year’s “The Hurt Locker” for me. Solidly made, sharply edited, well acted, but it just never really takes off. There are moments of brilliance- the score by Trent Reznor, the role of Andrew Garfield whose character actually has an arch and feeling behind the icy facade of zeitgeist that burden the others- yet these are few and far between and the film lags quite a bit in the middle.


Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps

Oliver Stone’s rich-and-powerful fairy tale sequel tosses out head-spinning phrases about hedge funds, derivatives and bail outs with an alarming frequency… at times making “Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps” a perfect companion piece to Alan Pakula’s great but little seen 1981 film “Rollover”. Stone’s direction is crisp and unassuming- a bit of old school mastery in an increasingly amped up world of filmmaking- and one scene that features couple Shia Lebouf and Carey Mulligan walking and talking in a single, slow zoom take is every bit as exciting as the compulsory evil turn by Michael Douglas reprising his role of Gordon Gekko. Still, while the ambitious screenplay tries to peel away the ugly veneer of just exactly how our current economy was bamboozled by inflated loans and invisible money, “Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps” is a largely dry affair. It also features an unnecessarily cute and tidy ending that doesn’t gel with the heated emotions surfaced between father (Douglas) and daughter (Mulligan in another great performance). I admire “Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps” more than I like it.


Buried

Yes, Ryan Reynolds is trapped in a box for the entirety of “Buried” and its 105 minute run time. Where most directors would look for ways to open up the action, director Rodrigo Cortes has the courage to stay burrowed with his confused protagonist as he makes phone calls and tries to piece together the circumstances that put him there. It’s a strong performance by Reynolds, holding the one man act together as Cortes slowly builds the tension to a finale that feels unbearable. Recently, the Alamo Drafthouse screened this film to six ‘winners’ who watched “Buried” encapsulated in a coffin, and that’s exactly the stifling atmosphere “Buried” achieves outside a coffin as well. It may be looked upon as a gimmick, but “Buried” is a very good film that deserves a reputation as extreme entertainment as well.

Cinema Obscura: Letters From A Dead Man

Apocalypse films have an inherent attitude and tone. But when it comes from Russia, the apocalypse film is especially cerebral. This is certainly the case with Konstantin Lopushanshky's "Letters From A Dead Man", the type of film that seems to have borrowed Tarkovsky's visual scheme and Nabokov's ideas. Filmed in a yellow-tinged sepia tone, "Letters From A Dead Man" is oppressive in every way possible... and I mean that in the best sense of the word.


Released in 1985, "Letters From A Dead Man" gains its title from the lonely voiceover given by the film's main character, a professor forced to live underground with a handful of others in the cellars beneath their city. Death hangs over every corner. Suicides are rampant and the professor has to watch his wife slowly wither away and die. People can go outside, but only in haz mat suits and they're subject to curfew laws. Yet "Letters From A Dead Man" is lightyears away from other post apocalypse films. There's no violence from bands of roving gangs. Lopushanshky's goal is more intelligent, revealing a post-world tied up in confused bearuracracy as the remaining government apparatus is forcing every healthy individual into the main underground living quarters. Only those with "passes" may enter. The professor discovers a make-shift orphanage with seven unhealthy children, and "Letters From A Dead Man" quietly shifts from pessimistic survival mode to obliquely moving in the final moments.


Owing a huge debt to Tarkovsky's "Stalker", Lopushanshky still manages to create a unique universe. Ideas about the place of literature and religion are the main topics of conversation. And the slow monologue that details the accidental destruction of the world is both chilling in its reality and depressing that it could happen so easily. "Letters From A Dead Man" is not an easy sit, but if one is looking for a varied alternative to other apocalypse films, this is it.

Produced and Abandoned Part 7

Ten more titles deserving of a Region 1 DVD release:

1. Obsession (1976)- Brian DePalma's modern reworking of "Vertigo" is a lush, overtly melodramatic homage that often gets overlooked among his films. There is an Australian release of this film, yet its barely shown on TV and the rumored Criterion release is still forthcoming.
2. The Touch (1971)- Ingmar Bergman's very hard to find early 70's film about an American archaeologist (Elliot Gould) entering an affair with a housewife (Bergman muse Bibi Anderson). Ironically, there are several Gould films from the 70's that are hard to find- including "Move" and "Getting Straight"- but what makes this title even more curious is the filmmaking pedigree of Swedish master Bergman. It's one of the few not available.
3. Savage Is Loose (1974)- The second directorial outing from actor George C. Scott, this described chamber drama about a family stuck on a remote island, sounds intriguing. VHS copies go for big bucks.
4. The Nickel Ride (1974)- Written about here, this small scaled, moody film deserves its resurrection. I think it'll find a huge audience.
5. Hell Night (1981)- Linda Blair slasher flick about four teens spending the night with something wicked this way comes. Anchor Bay released a copy of this film (from a bad VHS print apparently) in the early 00's, but its been OOP since.
6. Le Garcu (1995)-French filmmaker Maurice Pialet has been vastly under-represented on DVD. His 1991 film "Van Gogh" is a masterpiece. One of his earlier efforts, "L' Enfance Nue", was just released on DVD two weeks ago so maybe there's hope yet. "Le Garcu", his last film, was regarded by critic Andrew Sarris as one of the very best films of that year.
7. All the Marbles (1981)- Yep, this Robert Aldrich film sounds just crazy enough that I need to see it. Peter Falk managing a female wrestling team. I don't know how good this will be, but if anyone's seen it, please let me know.
8. Sitting Target (1972)- Tarantino is a huge fan of this one, showing it one of the Aint It Cool News Butt-numb-a-thons a few years back, and everything I've read about it describes it as an unrepentantly violent revenge flick. Oliver Reed- and by the way, if you wanna see a bevy of unreleased titles, check out this actor's IMDB page- and Ian Mc Shane bust out of prison to seek revenge on Reed's unfaithful wife. Full of stock British actors, and never released on DVD.
9. The Reflecting Skin (1990)- Director Philip Ridley, one of the few cinematic descendants of David Lynch who doesn't seem to be trying too hard, has a new film which dropped at Toronto this year. "The Reflecting Skin" was one of the first films I can remember seeing on IFC back in the late 90's, and its all but disappeared nowadays. Slow moving at times, it is an atmospheric and weirdly moving coming of age film about a young boy who fears vampires and his own domestic life. Well worth a life on DVD, especially with Ridley back in the director's chair.
10. Trouble Every Day (2001)- Speaking of vampires, Claire Denis' utterly unique take on the horror genre is a startling shock to the system. Vincent Gallo is a scientist who becomes obsessed with some type of blood mutation program and Beatrice Dalle is a mysterious woman who becomes involved with Gallo. Their relationship (literally) consumes each other. The final fifteen minutes of this film are beyond belief, and if you've seen the various stills from "Trouble Every day", it morphs into a bloody and repellant affair. Not an easy film to like, but its baffling that it's not available on DVD.

Patient Observations: 3 From Frederick Wiseman

Filmmaker Frederick Wiseman is a national landmark amidst the landscape of documentary cinema. So why is it so damn hard to see any of his films? Not known for brevity (a majority of his work runs over 3 hours) or easy subjects (public welfare, a domestic abuse center for women) it's still thrilling to finally receive a small sampling of his work.

Wiseman's penchant for examining various American institutions remained intact from the very beginning in 1967 when he filmed "Titicut Follies" in a Massachusetts state hospital for the criminally insane. It's one of the more transcendent cinema moments where art actually explores reality and changes something. After the buzz from this film and its black and white images of standards instead the facility, "Titicut Follies" was banned but not before it cast a questionable eye on the politics of the state's treatment of its prisoners. Still, one has to wonder who failed to check the negatives before allowing Wiseman and his crew to exit the property. Shown in unflinchingly clinical images are the force feeding of one inmate, hordes of men standing around naked or in feces filled cells, and one seemingly lucid man pleading his case before a board of doctors who seem more interested in keeping their cigarettes lit than actually listening to some of his ideas on incarceration. Granted, these are still "criminally insane" men who committed violent acts, but the idea of such squalid conditions and primitive lack of psychological treatment make one wonder about the living conditions of "normal" inmates who committed the same crimes. These are the types of ideas that vault through one's mind while watching a Wiseman documentary. He allows the images to do the talking, without narration or contextual supposition. Michael Moore, take note.



"Model", Wiseman's 1980 film about the vagaries of the modeling industry in New York, sounded like the most uninspiring entry of the three titles here, yet I came away with a somewhat profound affection for this facade of beauty. Never boring and ultimately propelled through fashion shoots and television commercial sessions that become more and more abstract (from breezy shoots in an apartment or outdoors to a black and white shadow shoot that's selling.... something), "Model" explores the tireless details of every action. How many times must a director shoot a model's leg before they reach the perfect take? Watch how one actress, charged with the seemingly easy job of running down the steps and looking left, becomes an (edited) 30minute ordeal of subtle adjustments and nth degree facial turns that doesn't wrap for days. I became exhausted just watching it all.


Yet, the real coup of Wiseman's film is celebrating the ones that don't make it. Centered around one modeling agency in New York, Wiseman is allowed into the interview room for several talent scouts who talk to wanna-be models, peruse through their portfolios and find increasingly nice ways to say "you're not pretty enough" or "you just don't have IT". For a film that trades in beauty, Wiseman slyly inserts some ugliness.



Even with the deplorable setting of "Titicut Follies", the toughest to watch was "Hospital". Released in 1971, Wiseman was given access to the emergency rooms and corridors of a hospital in New York during the overnight hours. Glimpses of the horror are there- a man who almost overdoses on drugs and is then put into his own private holding cell where he rants, vomits, rants some more, vomits more.... then accepts that he probably needs to head back home to his family and get some help. But with Wiseman's other works, "Hospital" is a multi-faceted portrait of an institution and the people who, for better or worse, runs things. The doctors and nurses in "Hospital" seem genuinely impacted by their patients and strive for the best in their well being. One scene has a doctor calling the administration of another hospital whose patient they just received, upset and filing a complaint for that previous doctor's failure to recognize certain symptoms before transport. After seemingly receiving no sympathy or understanding from the person on the other end of the line, the doctor hangs up the phone, Wiseman's camera capturing a moment of frailty and despair in the doctor as he rubs his eyebrows. It's a small moment, yes, but one befitting the gracious patience of Wiseman to never lose sight of our emotional bearings within these mammoth institutions. He is documenting people and life after all.

Top 5 List: The P.T. Anderson Set Pieces

The following post is my contribution to the Paul Thomas Anderson blogathon being hosted over at The Moon In the Gutter blog.

Anderson is known for staging scenes of incredible power, and these, ranked in order of preference, are the ones that continually amaze me:

5. Boogie Nights- known as the Sister Christian scene:



The more I watch this scene, the more I'm in awe of Anderson's command of tone and that spaced out lil improv that Wahlberg does. Just the perfect blend of music and image.

4. Punch Drunk Love- spinning out of control



Anderson's most divisive film is something that grows on you. The scene (starting at about the 4 minute mark) is a virtuoso display of frustration, confusion, anxiety and tension colliding. We've all felt moments like this.

3. Magnolia- breaking down



My favorite Anderson film.... a masterpiece that's awe-inspiring and magical. This scene takes on another dimension as I'm pretty sure its written directly about Anderson's own father.

2. Boogie Nights- bringin' in the 80's



Every movie deserves a scene like this.

1. There Will Be Blood- thar she blows



Still get chills everytime I watch this scene. The glorious tracking shots... Jonny Greenwood's experimental (but brilliant) score... the images that are worthy of a silent film classic...



And a bonus:

70's Bonanza: The Nickel Ride

Jason Miller is not a widely known figure in the history of movies, but after his well positioned role as Father Karras in "The Exorcist", Hollywood was ripe for the taking. What he did next was star in a minimalistic crime picture for an aged Hollywood filmmaker (Robert Mulligan of "To Kill A Mockingbird") that received poor words from the New York Times upon release and died an obscure death... and its still unavailable on any type of home video distribution. But perhaps "The Nickel Ride" is best experienced without any advanced hype. It's a gangster film without any real gangsters. It's a Los Angeles-filmed picture that highlights the seedy section just outside downtown Los Angeles, refusing to glorify any picturesque portions of the city. And it's a crime movie that fills itself with hushed words about some shady business deals without ever really exploring the vagaries of this crime syndicate's purpose. Sure, there are moments of violence towards the end of the film, but even those are suspect as to whether they actually really happen. "The Nickel Ride" is a film full of contradictions, and that alone makes it a worthy entry in the lost pages of 70's cinema.

If anything, "The Nickel Ride" would make a great double bill with John Cassavete's "The Killing of a Chinese Bookie". Both are films that delay the inevitable for a low level crime boss. Both films feature lead characters who circle the bounds of reality and eventually become trapped in over their head. And both films certainly understand time, place and character over genre can be an exhilerating method of storytelling. The basic idea in "The Nickel Ride" is this: as Cooper, Jason Miller is a low level crime boss struggling to keep his 3 or 4 square block empire from fading into obscurity. He's working on a deal for his boss (John Hillerman) that will create a row of empty warehouses where the syndicate can park and store stolen goods. The deal is not going well, and Miller huffs and puffs with desperation throughout the entire film, trying to stave off the possible hitman (a wonderful country hitman played to perfection by Bo Hopkins) that he believes his boss has dispatched against him, as well as protecting an old friend in debt and his young girlfriend (Linda Haynes) who rarely understands how deep Cooper's involved. The way in which Mulligan and screenwriter Eric Roth (later writer of "Ali", "Munich" and here his first script) portray the dying gasps of Cooper to save his business are fascinating. If we didn't know any better, we'd think Cooper was trying to save his hardware store, not a criminal empire. "The Nickel Ride" is almost exhausting in the way Cooper hustles through his days, finding a payphone to make calls, checking at a hotel where his contact never shows up, staving off the worries of his girlfriend with a weekend in the country.... "The Nickel Ride" is probably one of the best examples of just how fucking hard it must be to run your own criminal world. Add to all of this Cooper's deteriorating mindset due to paranoia, and the whole film is hazy stumble towards the inevitable. It's a brilliant one as well.

Top 5 List: Songs That Should Be Used In A Movie.... Somehow, Someway

5. Max Richter- "Embers"



After Richter's compositions were used in Scorsese's "Shutter Island" earlier this year, his breathtaking sounds are simply made for cinema.

4. The Walker Brothers- "Lines"



After their song "The Electrician" was used so magnificently in "Bronson", I think The Walker Brothers are seriously overdue for some recognition. "Lines", one of four songs in a row from their 1978 album "Nite Flights", is just the song to convey.... something cool.


3. The Cranberries- "Zombie"



This nineties song which haunted my youth after the first time I heard it has probably been used somewhere (any one know?) but I don't recall it. Still a terrific song that has cinematic potential for any scene.

2. Smile Smile- "Sad Song"



This Dallas duo has yet to make it big, but their sound is incredible and ripe for the next Jennifer Aniston rom-com? Or maybe trailer.

1. The Twilight Singers- "Hyperballad"



If you're a fan of "Rescue Me", then one understands the power that Greg Dulli's strained voice can have over visual images. Denis Leary is a fan and it shows, featuring The Twilight Singers in several shows. I could easily see their sound complementing a Duplass brothers micro-indie.


Taking all suggestions for your own.

Two

Animal Kingdom

My first introduction to the oft-referenced Aussie New Wave (along with "The Square" and "The Disappearance of Alice Creed") is David Michod's "Animal Kingdom", a startling debut that not only ranks as the best debut in several years, but very close to the best film I'll probably see this year. From the opening scene where young Jay (James Frecheville) quietly processes the death of his mother from a drug overdose to the operatic score sprayed across grainy, black and white images of a bank robbery, Michod is in firm control. Jay goes to live with his grandmother (Jacki Weaver) and soon becomes mixed up in a violent life of crime headed by his four uncles, each one more depraved and desperate than the next. Michod, who also wrote the convoluted story, uses Jay as our cipher into the story, giving us glimpses of innocence slowly turned inward. Also in the mix is Guy Pearce, a stoic police detective of the Armed Robbery Unit, a specialized force chartered to take down groups such as the Cody family (one of Michod's many western influenced touchstones). Yet "Animal Kingdom" is above all else a drama. There are no long gun battles. The violence (when it does happen) is swift and jarring, punctuated by gun shots that were deafening during my showing. The tension becomes almost unbearable in certain scenes. As the eldest brother, Pope, Ben Mendelsohn is a terrifying screen presence, ultimately someone who wants to "talk out" everyone's problems one second, then running after family like the Terminator the next. Michod also nails the details. How often do we see a film about cops, yet rarely watch them getting ready for work, being handed their service revolver, then having to fire all six chambers into a tube to ensure the gun is safely not loaded? "Animal Kingdom" revels in these details. It's simply a masterpiece.


The Last Exorcism

Daniel Stamm's "The Last Exorcism" builds on the reputation of horror mockumentary (think "The Blair Witch Project") with a tale about a charlatan preacher and his final deed of exorcism in small town Louisiana. I've said it before, but a film such as "The Last Exorcism" is the hardest type of film to write about. It falls right in that 3 star category. While watching it, I was entertained and even creeped out in a few scenes (such as the evil smile given off by the possessed girl just as a door closes), but once it's over, one finds it all a trifle. And really, after "Rosemary's Baby" and "The Exorcist", this whole genre struggles to find anything refreshing.

Cinema Obscura: The Brave

Johnny Depp's 1997 directorial debut, "The Brave", premiered at Cannes, was subsequently hissed out of the Competition and then promptly pulled from distribution by its director and star due to a case of artistic pettiness. Never released on any type of home video format, it's exactly this type of hard to find film that energizes a movie fanatic such as myself. This leads to colossal disappointment at times, but thankfully in the case of "The Brave", its not all that bad. In fact, Depp's Native American fairy tale about a man who sells his life to a snuff film produced (a wheelchair bound Marlon Brando) in exchange for $20,000, then proceeds to better the life of his family and friends living on the outskirts of a shanty town next to a landfill, actually reaches a level of poignant storytelling. This is exactly the style of movie that's been bowling over film critics from the likes of the Tavini Brothers or Roberto Benigni's "Life Is Beautiful".... an art film that maintains a sense of stagnant magic realism in the face of absurd living conditions. Was it maligned due to Depp's pretty-boy presence and lack of auteur status? Or was his cast of faintly oddball characters too much for serious critics to absorb? Either way, maybe "The Brave" was a bit ahead of its time, especially when a supposedly loopy film such as this recently took home top honors from the fest.

Based on a book by Gregory McDonald (who created the "Fletch" character!), it's been written that Depp changed a majority of the original script to embrace some of the funkiness that plays out in the finished product. Living in the same trash heap of a town is an oil covered worker played by Frederick Forrest who watches over his son, incessantly (and inexplicably) constantly running in a large hamster wheel. Then there's the local pimp (Luis Guzman) who floats through the film as if he's never given up the role that made him famous a year before in "Boogie Nights", and who meets an especially violent end at the hands of Depp. Yet, through all this shagginess, "The Brave" is ultimately a countdown to a man's sacrifice and his attrition towards his family. He builds a huge outdoor playground for the children in the town, complete with big screen TV, patio lights strung around a slide and carnival music piped in from.... somewhere. Sweet and alternately just downright weird, its an image I won't soon forget.

The few minutes shared on screen between mentor Brando and mentee Depp play like a poor man's version of Colonel Kurtz rambling on about life and death, but its a scene that resonates nonetheless, setting up the dark undercurrents that propel Depp to make a dreary decision. For its 2 hour and ten minute running time, "The Brave" glacially builds up to the quiet walk Depp embarks upon at the end of the film, complete with metal door crashing and horrors left unsaid. It's a chilling moment in a film with an underserved legacy.

Revisiting the Faves: La Scorta

Ricky Tognazzi's "La Scorta" ranked as my number 6 film of the year in 1996.

Italian actor turned director Ricky Tognazzi's "La Scorta" is a tangled web of a movie that depicts the tumultuous intricacies of the Italian government through the workmanlike eyes of four bodyguards. Much like Paulo Sorrento's "Il Divo"- or a more likely comparison is the great Francesco Rosi and his cinematic exposes of Italian bureaucracy in magnificent films such as "Hands Over the City" or "Illustrious Corpses"- Tognazzi is interested in titillating the brain instead of jarring with action. Reading a plot description of "La Scorta" would certainly lead one to believe the film is an action packed Italian rip off of Johnnie To's "The Mission" or Scorsese-lite. It's anything but. Yet it's this serious attention to the duplicity of elected officials through hushed conversations and territorial pissing matches that imbues "La Scorta" with an even more serious level of tension. The thought of a car bomb or random motorcycle hit man is more terrifying than machine guns blazing.


The position of an elected official (or judge) is a terminal career in Italy. They require bodyguards (la scorta) and as Mandolesi (Claudio Amendelo) is assigned to judge Michel de Francesco (Carlo Cecchi), he soon adapts to the dangerous job of chauffeuring and skimming the balconies as he accompanies the judge to and from work. As the new guy on the unit with three others, their shared sense of a cliched job soon turns into an intimate affair as the judge uncovers a shadowy deal between local officials and hired thugs who control a portion of the country's water supply. As the judge sets his sights on bringing down the crooked officials, Mandolesi and his crew become friends with the judge, sharing their dinner tables with him and eventually holing up with him in an underground bunker when the investigation turns violent. Each bodyguard is fleshed out with strong characteristics and the unity that forms between them is warm and articulate. Tognazzi frames each day going to and from work as a long overhead shot of the two car parade that forces the viewer to search for danger in the edges of the frame. Not only is this highly cinematic for touristic purposes of the beautiful Italian landscape, but surprisingly old school in a movie world that only understands a car chase (or a car simply going fast) has to be cut every half second.


I can't remember how or where I first heard about "La Scorta" in early '96, but I do remember the experience of sitting in a theater (with only 1 or 2 other people) and having one of those experiences of discovering a hidden treasure. In the same year that P.T. Anderson broke onto the scene with his two dynamite features "Hard Eight" and "Boogie Nights" and with Scorsese the master reigning supreme with "Kundun", Tognazzi's "La Scorta" is in pretty exclusive company.

Recent Thoughts

The Expendables

Sylvester Stallone’s action romp and ode to 80’s excess is a film that certainly has its fan base… and there’s nothing wrong with that. For my taste, though, I couldn‘t get past “The Exependables” genuine sloppiness. Incomprehensible car chases, incomprehensible fight scenes with flaying limbs and exploding guts, and even worse, dialogue scenes that are inexplicably cut mid-sentence with zero chemistry (were Willis, Schwarzenegger and Stallone even in the same building when their trio scene was filmed???) all reveal the very bad director in Stallone…. Which is disappointing because he seemed to have a strong grasp of visual language in his under appreciated “Rocky Balboa”. “The Expendables” will surf by on its star power alone. If one watches this thing with a pitcher a beer in hand, I’m sure the fun is emphasized. Sober is another experience, though.

Vengeance

Johnnie To’s previous few films have leaned towards the western genre, with groups of men slowly sizing each other up in carefully choreographed frames. In “Vengeance”, when the two opposing sides of bad and very-bad guys line up for the last hurrah, To makes everything feel like a battle from the crusades with newspaper sailing through the air, each side rolling towards each other behind bales of paper and one group encamped on a steel scaffold overlooking the carnage. “Vengeance: is nothing new from Hong Kong auteur To, but it still fresh brash and dazzling. French actor Johnny Hallyday (“Man on the Train”, “The Iron Triangle”) returns to his retired life of crime to avenge the death of his daughter’s family. All of To’s regulars (Simon Yam, Anthony Wong, written by Kai-Wai Fae) are back in action and, if its possible, To again finds unusual and energetic ways for guys to get into gun battles. But beyond the sense of “coolness” that permeates most of Johnnie To’s films, there’a also a serious desire to startle…. Take for example the opening scene where a young wife (Sylvie Testud) runs to open the door for her family and a reflection of a killer waiting outside is seen briefly behind her. Naysayers can call To a flamboyant throwback to the halcyon days of John Woo and Ringo Lam, but the fact that he’s still making films that search for something distinct in a generic world of action thrillers (see above) is still quite bold. I can’t wait for what he does next.

Farewell

Director Emir Kusturica (“Underground”, “”When father Was Away On Business”) has been missed behind the camera as of late, but his solid turn as Russian spy Sergei Gregoriev in Christian Carion’s Cold War drama “Farewell” is an indication that all is well with the eccentric filmmaker. In fact, I’d go so far as to call his performance- a mixture of resolute confidence and heartbreaking humanity- as one of the best of the year and very deserving of international acclaim. His French contact, also played by a talented filmmaker in Guillaume Canet (“Tell No One”), is the narrative cipher for the audience, but its Kusturica’s noble whistleblower that gives “Farewell” its depth. Things bog down a bit whenever the American perspective is brought into view through the somewhat gimmicky performance of Fred Ward as Ronald Reagan, but for the most part, Carion’s film is a very serious and quiet spy thriller that trusts the audience to absorb the plot mechanics. And Carion certainly knows how to build suspense, none more so than in the final 20 minutes, crosscutting between escape and interrogation. Clint Mansell’s evocative score also adds to the film’s tragic overture. “Farewell” isn’t out there in wide release, but its well worth tracking down.

70's Bonanza: The Last Movie

With "Easy Rider" in 1968, actor and director Dennis Hopper seemingly visualized the entire spirit of the counter culture. With his second film, "The Last Movie" in 1971, he barely wanted to leave the spirit behind. This is a common theme for a majority of the movies released in the early 70's. The swinging ideas of free love and 1960's hippie culture were still invested in every corner of life, and "The Last Movie" feels like an extended holdover from the period. But there's also a sense of progressiveness behind the film.... full of disconcerting jump cuts, tilted angles and stretches that feel like the film is rambling just for rambling's sake. Or maybe I'm reading way too much into Hopper's desire to create a Jodorwosky film. Regardless, while I can't classify "The Last Movie" as a great one, it is an interesting meta-movie that deserves to be seen on a wider scale, especially with the recent passing of Hopper.


Starring as Kansas, a Hollywood stuntman in the midst of a tumultuous shoot in Peru (for director Sam fuller, no less), "The Last Movie" begins with a barrage of western movie tropes, slowly pulling away to a distance to reveal the filmmaking throng behind the movie. The shoot wraps, but Kansas decides to stay behind with his Peruvian girlfriend (Stella Garcia) and becomes embroiled with the natives after they fail to differentiate the difference between movie artificiality and real life. Hopper hangs out in the local dives with his friends, meets up with an eclectic crew of rich Americans (whose purpose or reasons are unclear), goes to orgies with them and fights with the local priest over the villagers disdain for religion and acceptance of making movies with wooden cameras and boom mikes. Through all of this, its hard not to see Hopper and his acting friends boozing their way through most every scene, which adds an even more maddening aspect to the film's numerous plot digressions. There is a hunt for gold in the mountains. There are allusions to American politics and money overtaking the 'simple' way of Peruvian life in the way Kansas' prostitute girlfriend becomes obsessed with owning a fur coat. There are so many ideas bursting at the seams, its chaotic intentions are evident in the way the film's title card is sprayed across the screen nearly 25 minutes in, as if Hopper remembered it later. Add to that several "scene missing" title cards and one gets the idea that "The Last Movie" had every intention of throwing the rule book out the window, creating an atmosphere of experimentation and sophomore hi-jinks that almost becomes endearing. In 1971, one could get away with that. But really, any film that inserts a random moment of Kris Kristofferson sitting on a rock and singing "Me and Bobby McGee" probably doesn't care much for cohesiveness. It's still cool as hell, though.

Unintentional Double Bill: Sword and Sandals Edition

Actors go through phases, and for Mads Mikkelson, he must be going through his Spartacus phase. With two consecutive 'sword and sandals' films under his belt, the now recognizable actor takes this genre into two vastly different worlds. With "Valhalla Rising", he plays a savage warrior in a painterly art-deco 1000 AD world seen through the visually sumptuous eye of director Nicholas Winding Refn. And in Louis Leterrier's "Clash of the Titans", he plays second fiddle (but no less efficiently ruthless) to Persius (Sam Worthington) and his band of warriors as they set out to trump the gods. In cinema (as in life), synchronicity is charming sometimes, and it happened with these two films.

Now, before I get ahead of myself, it should be noted that one of these films is far superior to the other. "Valhalla Rising" is close to something very special... Refn's blisteringly brutal editing combined with framing compositions that seem to be borne out of exactly which way the clouds looks behind the actor rather than anything else are epic in scope. And running at a relatively quick 93 minutes, "Valhalla Rising" covers alot of territory in very spare, meditative style. Either you give in and submit to the film's patient, trancey style or give up. I loved every moment of it. On the other hand, Leterrier's "Clash of the Titans" was a virtual chore to get through. I understand that any film remade from a childhood favorite (and a favorite I watched probably 30 times over the course of 2-3 years as a kid) has the deck stacked against it. In all fairness, the executives at Warner Brothers were probably only counting on fan base favoritism for 15% of the film's success. It's a summer movie, loaded with CGI and featuring an action avatar star (Worthington) fresh off two successful movies. Still, the childlike wonder inherent in the original "Clash of the Titans" has dissipated. There is something eerily beautiful about Ray Harryhausen's stop motion animation that CGI simply cannot replace. In the new version, the creatures (especially the witches and Medusa, a character that haunted my dreams for years) appear weightless and quick without any real sense of danger. And that's the problem I've had with CGI for years. No matter how flawless it appears mixed in with the action on-screen, it still feels off to me. Not to mention the real characters in Leterrier's amped up version lack a genuine connection. Scuttled is the relationship between Andromeda and Persius in the original. Why do I really care if he saves everyone in this new version? The owl-so important and inviting in the original- is treated to the usual off-the-cuff post modern joke that dots so many remakes today. And as Persius, Worthington again brings zero gravity to his leading man... there to scowl and pout and fight. If this guy never gets work again, we may all be the better off.


In "Valhalla Rising", nothing is treated as a joke and the locales- fog covered Scottish mountains and grimy, black mud- authenticate a real story. I understand this comes off as yet another lobby for low-budget artistic style over big budget commercialism, but in this case, watch both films and tell me one doesn't agree. As One Eye, Mads Mikkelson is a caged slave warrior who escapes his captors, reluctantly joins up with a band of marauding Christian Vikings and ends up stranded in the New World as religion and faith falls apart around him. Spare imagery, clashing electric guitar drones and violent cuts between quiet and action create a tension within "Valhalla Rising" that's impenetrable to escape. Like his previous film "Bronson", "Valhalla Rising" is a character study of a violent male that tells you very little about the man outside his own self aggrandizing. One Eye is a mute, prone to precognitive visions about his own fate and "Valhalla Rising" keeps this hermetic sense of time and self intact. Bouncing from violent adventure to the next, "Valhalla Rising" has been described by Refn himself as a science fiction film without the science, and its numerous static shots of men talking off-screen in stream-of-conscious thought or One Eye's blood red visions of the future certainly place the film in a very netherworld atmosphere. All in all, this film's rugged savagery and auteur-like imagery put the mascara-clad acting and unimaginative CGI of "Clash of the Titans" to shame.

What's In the Netflix Queue #29

1. Cria Cuervos- Carlos Saura's tale of a young child dealing with the loss of her parents. There's not much Saura available on DVD, and the ones that are ("Tango" and "Carmen") don't play much to my sensibilities. I have heard great things about this film, though.
2. Kingdom of Heaven- I saw Ridley Scott's film in theaters, but it left little impression on me. Since upgrading to Blu Ray last year and hearing the terrific things about this extended director's cut version which seems to flesh out some of the material more, I've decided to give it another try.
3. Nip Tuck Season 6 Part 2- A soap opera of the highest order. I've been hooked since episode one on FX years ago, so why stop now even though the show has gotten more and more preposterous every season.
4. Hated: GG Allin and the Murder Junkies- Early documentary from comedy director Todd Philips (yes, "Road Trip") about the cult status of punk underground singer GG Allin. Can't say I've heard any of their music, but I'm always open to fascinating subjects.
5. Young Torless- "Based on a heart-wrenching novel by writer Robert Musil, this film, directed by Volker Schlondorff and winner of the International Critics Prize at the 1966 Cannes Film Festival, explores what happens when a young man named Thomas Törless (Mathieu Carrière), enrolled at a boarding school in the Austro-Hungarian Empire before the war, does nothing to save a boy (Marian Seidowsky) from constant torture by his classmates." From the Netflix description.
6. Moon In the Gutter- French director Jean Jacques Beineix's cult classic finally got its DVD release earlier this year. While the only Beineix film I've managed to see has been "Diva", I love this type of exposure to a filmmaker previously hidden away. Three other films by Beineix are in the queue as well.
7. Billy Jack- "Billy Jack" on Blu-ray. Believe it. Friends highly recommend this as ass-kicking 70's greatness.
8. Is Paris Burning?- International war film by French director Rene Clement described as "Jean-Paul Belmondo heads the star-studded cast (which includes Charles Boyer, Kirk Douglas and Alain Delon) in this drama directed by Rene Clement and co-written by, among many others, Francis Ford Coppola and Gore Vidal. Although World War II is nearly over, the Germans wage one last effort at destruction in Paris. But the French Resistance won't let them win -- not when Allied victory is so close at hand." Sounds great, but the two star rating on Netflix has me a bit worried?
9. The Messenger- Iraq drama from last Oscar season starring Woody Harrelson that I'm just now catching up with.
10. Robokill Beneath Club Layla- Just look at that title. Do I really need to explain? Ok, it stars director Kiyoshi Kurosawa and is described as the following: When a nightclub opens in Tokyo 45 years after World War II, the clientele have no idea the site once housed a hush-hush military lab. But the secret is about to emerge as a defective generator reactivates half-man, half-machine superwarrior Mikadroid, long thought destroyed by America's firebombing of the city. Next thing you know, disco patrons are turning up dead as the cyborg prowls the cellar in this sci-fi classic starring Yoriko Douguchi.

Cinema Obscura: Kenji Fukasaku's "Virus"

As purveyor of hyper-kinetic yakuza flicks ("The Yakuza Files" series) and the bloody cult favorite "Battle Royale", Japanese director Kenji Fukasaku is probably the least likely candidate to produce such a great (and unknown) disaster flick featuring an international cast. With Chuck Conners as a British submarine captain, Sonny Chiba as a scientist, Glenn Ford as the President, Henry Silva hamming it up as a maniacal military general and Bo Svenson as the sacrificial lamb, not to mention the uncomfortable idea of 7 women having to digest the reality of procreating the entire human race, "Virus" (aka "Day of Resurrection") is two hours and forty minutes of early 80's goodness.... and a disaster film that wipes out the Earth's population twice! Who could ask for a more guilty pleasure?

Cross-cutting around the globe as a biological weapon is accidentally released on mankind, "Virus" spends the first 90 minutes effeciently charting the world's demise and establishing emotional resonance with a few select characters, namely Japanese scientist Masao Kusakari who survives the outbreak due to his position in the South Pole where temperatures keep the virus dormant. Research stations from around the world eventually band up together and begin to chart the recreation of mankind, led by George Kennedy of all people. Fukasaku's comic-book storytelling adds a second level of destruction though. Before his death from the virus, military general Henry Silva armed the doomsday devices... nuclear weapons that could launch after a certain period of time and wipe the remaining survivors off the map for good. As the true good guys, Bo Svenson and Kusakari return to Washington DC to disarm the device, risking infection.

Very little of Fukasaku's style is inherent in "Virus". As the precursor to Japanese filmmakers such as Takashi Miike- work fast and quick- Fukasaku has crafted a genuine Saturday afternoon pleaser with little violence, no bad language and old fashioned characterizations. "Virus" may not be as slick as recent ground zero disaster films, but its no frills aesthetic and peculiar pedigree of name actors pushes it a shoulder above the rest.

Trailers I Love

I've heard virtually nothing about this film, but the trailer seems enticing. A quick bit of research shows the book (didn't even know there was one) has its ardent admirers.