Me and My Dream of Doing Nothing

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - Bell Book and Candle

2012-02-29T15:39:00.002-08:00

It was interesting for me to see James Stewart and Kim Novak in BELL BOOK AND CANDLE because I’m so used to them from VERTIGO. These two very different movies both starred the same two actors in romantic roles in the same year, but where VERTIGO was dark and twisted, BELL BOOK AND CANDLE is light and fluffy.

VERTIGO is the better film, and features the better performance from Stewart, but there is something quite alluring about Novak in BELL BOOK AND CANDLE. Novak stars as a modern day witch living in Greenwich Village. In one of the movie’s more clever conceits, the witches and wizards of the world hide out in beatnik bars behind beatnik fashions. I’m not sure if this is to say the beatniks were the way they were because they were all witches and wizards, or if it was just a safe place for eccentrics to hide. Either way, it’s funny.

Even though Novak gets to play what pretty much amounts to a dual role in VERTIGO and shows quite a bit of range there, it is nice to see her with less makeup on, in less glamorous fashions, walking around a modern day apartment, barefoot. She has a breezy vibe about her, which up until now, I would have never associated with Novak – an easiness that stands at odds with her severe, but beautiful, face. She seems. . . inviting.

The plot involves Novak using her witch powers to cast a love spell on Stewart. Under the influence of the magic, Stewart falls for Novak and abruptly leaves his fiancé (Janice Rule) who just happens to be Novak’s old college nemesis and has one of the best lines in the movie. When Stewart tells Rule that Novak is a witch, Rule deadpans, “You just never learned to spell.” Zing!

The usual romantic comedy ups and downs ensue as the two leads wonder whether they’re really in love with each other, or if it’s just magic, spend some good times together, split up, get back together, etc. An added issue involves the film’s rules when it comes to witchcraft – apparently witches lose their powers once they fall in love, so Novak has to decide between magic and Stewart.

The film has an eclectic supporting cast, appropriate for a movie about magic, I suppose, including Elsa Lanchester (the Bride of Frankenstein herself) as Novak’s aunt who is also a witch, an early role for Jack Lemmon as Novak’s brother, a wizard, and Ernie Kovacs in a scene stealing role as a drunk writer. I was especially pleased to see Lanchester later in her career in such a comedic performance. On the other hand, knowing what Lemmon would do later in his career made him seem underused here.

BELL BOOK AND CANDLE is about magic, but it’s not quite magical. There is something flat about it. A movie like this should have momentum, be light on its feet, and jump effortlessly from one scene to the next. Instead it kind of slogs along, which is not the fault of the cast or even the screenplay, necessarily. It’s not bad, it’s not great, but it’s fine, and the ending is appropriately romantic enough for Romancefest.

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - Talk to Her

2012-02-28T15:45:00.002-08:00

Like most movies by Pedro Almodovar, TALK TO HER is romantic but it is not your typical romance. Javier Camara and Dario Grandinetti star as two men hopelessly in love with totally unavailable women. This is partially due to the nature of their relationships – Camara is a socially awkward, slowly developing stalker with a hopeless crush on a woman he’s barely even met and Grandinetti is in love with a woman who is more powerful and successful than he is who might be indulging in another romance on the side.

But, the nature of these relationships is nothing compared to the other major obstacle: both women are in comas, and they may never wake up again.

The two women are Rosario Flores as a confident and passionate bull fighter and Leonar Watling as a young and innocent ballet student. Most of Grandinetti’s romance with Flores takes place before she is gored by a bull and rendered comatose – he’s a handsome and intense writer who finds her fascinating and becomes her lover. But Camara’s romance happens almost entirely in his head, first as he watches Watling from afar, and later as he dotes on her night and day as her nurse at the hospital.

The captivating thing about this film, aside from the unique premise, is the way Almodovar deftly changes tones and point of view as the film unfolds, masterfully pulling the audience’s sympathy from one character to another as crucial information is slowly revealed. Someone we identify with early on might turn out to be a monster by the time the movie ends. It all just depends on where Almodovar chooses to point his camera and when he chooses to do so; where Almodovar chooses to insert a flashback and when he chooses to do so.

As usual with Almodovar, the film is a beauty to behold – all primary colors, fascinating faces, and pretty music. Almodovar also uses some dance sequences and choreography by Pina Bausch, who appears in one of the scenes in the “Café Muller” performance I was pleased to recognize from the recent documentary PINA.

There is a key scene in the middle of the film in which Camara’s nurse character recounts a silent film he saw, and it unfolds before our eyes – in a scenario straddling the realm of nightmare and fantasy, a man (Fele Martinez) shrinks to a miniscule size but still attempts to please his lover (Paz Vega) who towers over him. Almodovar takes this sequence exactly where you think it might go, as the tiny man explores every inch of his lover’s body. The beauty of this sequence is the way it unabashedly mines what seems like the most obvious Freudian symbolism in a way few other filmmakers would dare to – it seems obvious, but in its sheer audacity, it is not.

The same could be said for the entire coma plot – a seemingly obvious metaphor for one sided relationships, unavailable people, the way we idealize a lover to the point where we might choose to ignore reality. But, again, this premise is so fully and fearlessly explored, it doesn’t matter how obvious it might seem. That’s a gift – to be able to say what others want to say in true and simple way others cannot.

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - Truly, Madly, Deeply

2012-02-27T19:47:00.004-08:00

If you're going to watch TRULY MADLY DEEPLY, I recommend going into it totally blind. I'm glad I did. All I knew was that it was a love story starring Alan Rickman and directed by Anthony Minghella. I didn't know anything about the plot, and I think it succeeded in being more thought provoking and emotional than if I had gone in with an understanding of the premise.

So, stop reading if you don't want to know the basics.

As the film opens, we meet Juliet Stevenson as a translator who has shut herself off from the outside world, crippled with the mourning of her recently and untimely deceased boyfriend, played by Alan Rickman. She tells her therapist she still hears him talking to her, sometimes, in her head, and just as the black hole of her depression seems like it's about to swallow her, Rickman inexplicably shows up as a ghost.

At first, the two lovers are overjoyed to see each other. Stevenson plays hooky from work and the two play together in her apartment in the child-like way that people who intimate with each other often do. These scenes are both amazing and awkward. On one hand, Stevenson and Rickman throw themselves into these performances with abandon, disappearing into the characters. On the other, most audiences probably aren't used to seeing this kind of behavior taking place anywhere other than behind the safety of closed doors.

So, Minghella has hooked us and tricked us twice, here -- first, allowing the viewer to settle down into a depressing tear jerker mood, then switching things to a rather light-hearted fantasy story. But the master stroke comes in the last half of the film, when the most unexpected development of all occurs, more unexpected than the existence of ghosts -- Stevenson starts to get over Rickman.

This third layer of the story, after grief and reclaimed happiness, is probably the most uncomfortable for most people, romantics and cynics alike, to confront. The idea that the person you thought was perfect, who you thought you'd love forever, who you wanted back so badly, maybe wasn't so perfect after all.

Part of this creeping dissatisfaction comes from the way Rickman infiltrates the home Stevenson was just beginning to claim as her own as she came into her own as an independent woman. Rickman insists on cranking up the heat, invites all his ghost buddies over, starts rearranging the furniture. Was he always like this and she had just forgotten about it? Is this some side effect of being a ghost? Or does Rickman have his own ulterior motives?

Despite the fantasy elements, this is about as realistic a take on a mature, intimate relationship that you're likely to see in the movies. But that's not to say TRULY MADLY DEEPLY is a cold and sarcastic movie. It is as warm and alive as any other romance. It's just a little more grown up.

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - Perfect

2012-02-26T23:26:00.004-08:00

There is a key scene about 40 minutes into PERFECT that, I think, must be the only reason this movie is remembered today, if, indeed it is remembered at all. It features John Travolta working out in an aerobics class led by Jamie Lee Curtis. Together the two of them sweat, thrust their pelvises, and hump the air aggressively, all the while staring into each others' eyes, which, awkwardly, turns out to be straight into the camera. The scene lasts almost 5 minutes.

They both look crazy for opposite reasons. Curtis looks crazy because her character, the aerobics instructor, seems to take this so seriously. She's kind of like Patrick Swayze as the bouncer in ROAD HOUSE. She has taken a rather mundane day job and approaches it as if she is dealing with important, life and death world affairs. She works out as if she'd leading a boot camp. I suppose many aerobics instructors may be like this, I don't know -- my waistline should make it clear that I do not hang out in health clubs. Point is, it's ridiculous.

Travolta, on the other hand, has a goofy grin on his face the whole time. It looks like he thinks this new-fangled aerobics thing (or, "slimnastics" as we're informed, a term which is never, ever used in real life) is the most fun he's had since Saturday morning cartoons. Now, you and I, the viewer, know this is John Travolta, the star of GREASE and SATURDAY NIGHT FEVER. We know the man can dance, so while it's not very fun to watch him thrust in short shorts with a visibly bulging package swinging dangerously free, we at least know he's at ease doing these things.

But if you take the movie on its own terms, you're supposed to believe Travolta is a reporter for Rolling Stone who has uncovered a scandal involving a cocaine smuggling business tycoon who claims high ups in the U.S. government are behind drug trafficking. He's convincing enough in his scenes, and I guess it's not impossible such a guy would take to aerobics with a child-like vim and vigor, but come on. Wouldn't the scene be more interesting if he was bad at aerobics, or took a while to get the hang of it, or couldn't keep up, or looked confused, or looked embarrassed, or anything other than completely at ease?

You might be wondering why hard-hitting reporter Travolta is even in an aerobics class at all. Well, after busting the cocaine scam wide open, his next big story idea is to expose the new singles clubs of the 80s -- the gym. It's hard to imagine, looking back on 1985 from 2012, that there was a time when it was shocking and new for giant workout emporiums like 24 Hour Fitness to exist. But, there was a time, apparently, when hungry journalists went from exposing government corruption directly to exposing gyms as. . . I dunno. . . places people meet each other?

Early on Travolta zeroes in on Curtis as the star for his story, but she's resistant due to a bad run-in she had with "gotcha journalism" (as Sarah Palin would say) earlier in her previous career as an Olympic hopeful swimmer. As he attempts to court her for his story, he ends up instead courting her for romance, and soon their personal entanglements add another hurdle to the story. Ethically, Travolta refuses to mix business with pleasure, so he's forced to look elsewhere for his sources and to tread lightly writing a Curtis-approved story, instead of the sex filled expose Rolling Stone wants.

The supporting cast includes a few familiar faces and names, including Marilu Henner and Laraine Newman as a couple of gym groupies looking for men, and Jann Wenner, infamous editor of Rolling Stone, playing a fictionalized version of himself. Newman is particularly effective in an almost heart breaking performance as a woman who is driven to great lengths to make herself "perfect" -- if this story line had been developed and expanded upon, and some other threads dropped, we might have had a movie. Wenner, on the other hand, was clearly not meant to be in front of the camera.

PERFECT suffers from the same problems as many other films that attempt to find the "next big thing" to exploit -- the creators are obviously close enough to the subject that they know something, but far enough away from it that everything rings false. Again, I don't know, this movie could be spot-on -- for all I know, this could be exactly what the aerobics scene was in L.A. in the mid-80s. Even if that's the case, it still rings false. It's just like all those stories I read by other students when I was in college that seemed fake. "But it really happened!" they'd always protest. So, make it seem real.

I guess the problem may stem from the misguided instinct to make everything seem important. It's as if the writers don't think it's enough to have this be a slice of life among gym junkies. They have to approach it as if the gym junkies, the audience watching the film, and the writers themselves, honestly think all this is the most important stuff ever. So, of course, the audience leaves thinking, "What's the big deal?"

What's worse is the fact that this movie has two plots that seem to undermine each other -- the government drug cover up and the aerobics scene. Of course on an objective scale you'd have to admit the government drug cover up is actually the more important of the two stories. Travolta's choices involving journalistic ethics and personal integrity could lead to great personal sacrifices, including jail time or even endangering his own life. But, the movie wants us to believe all of this is just as important as Travolta's influence on a small circle of friends and acquaintances at a gym.

Now, I guess you could argue on an individual scale, a person's close relationships are just as important to him or her as his relationship with the world at large. Still, in a (basically) fictional film, it doesn't make for great drama to compare and contrast one more dramatic story with one less dramatic story and expect the audience to give both stories the same weight. In fact, based on the way the movie is put together, it's almost as if the movie wants you to think the aerobics story is more important than the government cover up one.

There is possibly a fun little snapshot of a place and time in this movie, waiting to get out. Travolta and Curtis are likable, even though their characters aren't, particularly, and some of the stuff about the societal implications of what the fitness craze stands for is thought provoking and emotionally involving. But this is all so buried within the needlessly over-written screenplay that it becomes a chore to watch.

In a final "Fuck you!" to the viewer, after sitting through two hours of this, the ineptitude of the filmmakers reaches its climax when we're deprived any real emotional denouement between the characters we've been asked to care about the whole time. Oh, the denouement happens. It's just offscreen. Like all the other potentially interesting stuff in this flick.

Sadie Says:

For those of you who have known me a while, you know that I have a weird obsession with PERFECT. Paul picked up on it right off the bat. The dance scene alone is worth a watch, along with the snapshot of a time and a place. To be noted, are the many leotards and 80s outfits that make their way into this film. What happened to the high rise leotard? The male sweat short short?

The plot is ridiculous, the story is completely unsatisfying, and it really makes no sense. What DOES make sense is the dancing, the sheer absurdity of it all, and the fact that you can appreciate these stars trying to make it in show biz.

This is the part of my response where I get to say how wonderful Paul is for giving this movie a serious critique. Never in my wildest dreams would I have ever been able to take the time to analyze this novelty film and get someone as awesome as Paul to take the time to do it. I love Paul for so many reasons, and one of them is letting PERFECT make it into Romancefest.

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - Here Comes Mr. Jordan

2012-02-26T23:00:00.002-08:00

Now here's one I bet you haven't heard of.

1941's HERE COMES MR. JORDAN stars Robert Montgomery as a dim-witted but good-hearted boxer on the verge of becoming a champ who ends up dying in a plane crash. Due to a mistake on the part of the "messenger" sent to take Montgomery to heaven (Edward Everett Horton), the boss of the celestial messengers, the titular Mr. Jodan (Claude Rains), agrees to furnish Montgomery with a new body to complete his unfinished Earthly business.

Montgomery finds himself in the body of a crooked millionaire, in the position to help out a cute girl (Evelyn Keyes) whose father is in trouble with the law. Unfortunately, the reason Montgomery is able to inhabit the body is because it was recently murdered in a conspiracy between its wife (Rita Johnson) and assistant (John Emery). Both are stupefied to find the millionaire apparently alive and well, as Montgomery takes over his life. The heavenly messengers, Rains and Horton, remain on hand to help Montgomery out. Throughout all of this, Montgomery is bent on continuing his boxing career, and eventually enlists his bewildered manager (James Gleason) for help.

Describing the plot any further would give away a couple neat little developments, but let's just say Montgomery's attempts to romance the girl, keep his would-be killers at bay and continue his boxing career find some unexpected hitches.

For a movie about life, death, reincarnation and destiny, HERE COMES MR. JORDAN keeps things relatively light and surface level, but I think that is to the movie's credit. It moves along at a brisk pace, and although Montgomery often questions the other-worldly machinations at work, the film itself seems to take things rather matter of factly, with a minimal amount of special effects and not much focus on the "importance" of the whole thing.

The cast, as always, makes the picture. Montgomery is totally believable and avoids being boring as the nice guy. Rains brings a touch of friendly and wise class to the affair. James Gleason has some great moments as the increasingly befuddled manager.

The heart of the whole film can be found in the last touching scene in which Montgomery and Keyes finally come together. The way they approach each other, cautiously, as if drawn together by fate, is touching in its simplicity and elevates the movie from a nice afternoon diversion to the realm of a real (if overlooked) classic. And, the way Claude Rains looks on with a big warm-hearted smile on his face seals the deal: this is the definition of a feel good movie.

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - Four Weddings and a Funeral

2012-02-26T22:32:00.003-08:00

Blah, blah, "You've never seen FOUR WEDDINGS AND A FUNERAL?!" blah, blah. Broken record.

Anyway, I'm here to tell you FOUR WEDDINGS AND A FUNERAL is as good as everyone has always said it was. No surprise there.

The story famously follows affable and scattered commitment-phobe Hugh Grant and his group of buddies through -- you guessed it -- four weddings and a funeral. At first, we're overwhelmed with the large group of friends and their various familial and other connections, until, social event after social event, we start to recognize them and grow closer to them until we feel like we're part of the gang.

Prominent among the guests is Simon Callow, older, wiser, and more drunk than the rest; his close friend -- and lover? (John Hannah); Grant's deaf brother (David Bower); Grant's punky roommate (Charlotte Coleman) and Kristin Scott Thomas as an old (and possibly future) flame of Grant's.

Over the course of the celebrations, Grant finds himself falling in love with an alluring, fresh-faced American (Andie MacDowell) who turns out to be engaged to another man. Grant is able to seal the deal with MacDowell in the sack, and they clearly have chemistry, but for whatever reason, whether ego or lack of communication, they're unable to confess their love for each other until it is seemingly too late.

The film wisely allows all of this to develop sneakily on the sidelines as small comedic bits take up the forefront. The weddings are far from perfect, including an unexpected death, a mix up with the wedding rings, a groom with cold feet and a vicar who gets stage fright (Rowan Atkinson in a memorable, scene stealing performance). Thanks to this structure, the machinations of the typical romantic comedy plot don't seem quite as contrived or obtrusive. They're relegated to the background as the personalities and quirks of the characters are given the spotlight.

Aside from avoiding cliche, this device also allows the film to develop some real poignancy. After all, you care more about weddings and funerals when you know and love the people involved, and FOUR WEDDINGS AND A FUNERAL allows the audience to know and love the characters in a way most paint by numbers romantic comedies do not.

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - Wings of Desire

2012-02-26T22:08:00.002-08:00

Although there is a romance between a man and a woman central to WINGS OF DESIRE, it is really a romance between God and his creation, or more specifically, one angel and mankind. This famous Wim Wenders film is the tale of a world in which unseen angels observe humanity, only occasionally intervening, but watching and listening.

Bruno Ganz stars as an angel observing Berlin in the then-contemporary mid-80s, when the wall still divided the city. Otto Sander is another angel, and together, the two silently float above the city, perch on building tops and statues, descend to the streets below, into libraries and night clubs, and listen to the pensive, frightened, optimistic, pessimistic, soul-searching and sometimes oblivious thoughts of the humans around them.

A plot slowly begins to develop as Ganz finds himself yearning to become human, moved to experience all he observes, and, most specifically, to meet a circus acrobat (Solveig Dommartin) he has fallen in love with. This plot is never forced onto the movie, however, and its developments come late in the running time and almost as an afterthought. The majority of the film is spent in a quiet, reverent, meditative, and elegiac state, simply observing little moments in the lives of humans, and how they add up to more than the sum of their parts.

Otto Sander is also on hand as another angel, and together, with Ganz, a wide variety of subjects are followed and observed, including an old poet (Curt Bois) who ruminates on his own war-torn past, the state of his divided city, cut in two both geographically and by the passage of time, and the nature of peace and violence in the big picture.

The angels also meet Peter Falk, playing himself, who is in town to shoot a movie, and seems to be more wise to the presence of the angels than anyone else in town. Except the children, of course. But then, Falk always had a child-like glimmer in his eye.

The film is shot mostly in beautiful, dreamy black and white with the exception of a few key scenes in full color. One scene, in particular, sticks out in my mind, in which we observe a seemingly gray and drab laundromat in black and white only to find out it is shockingly painted in bright, happy tones when we switch to color.

Similar to masters like Malick and Kubrick, Wenders is able to transcend the mundane and ordinary to reach sublimely spiritual heights with WINGS OF DESIRE by counter-intuitively focusing on the very specific, tiny details of life. That's when you know a movie is truly great -- when it says a lot with very little.

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - Designing Woman

2012-02-23T11:10:00.003-08:00

Here comes another “battle of the sexes” style romantic comedy in the tradition of the Hepburn/Tracy vehicles – DESIGNING WOMAN. Only, in this one, Lauren Bacall plays Hepburn and Gregory Peck plays Tracy.

Bacall and Peck meet one drunken evening on separate business trips in Beverly Hills and quickly fall in love and get married. It isn’t until they return to New York that they realize they come from two different worlds. Bacall is a glamorous, successful fashion designer – a designing woman, if you will -- with a bunch of artsy fartsy friends, a big extravagant apartment, and nine wardrobe changes per day. Peck, on the other hand, is a messy, alcoholic sportswriter who hangs out at poker games and boxing matches and has run afoul of the local criminal element by constantly writing about a crooked boxing promoter (Martin Daylor).

Some the film involves Bacall and Peck alternatively annoying each other with their groups of friends and favorite pass-times, but most of it is sidetracked with Peck’s two big cover-ups – he’s hiding his trouble with the gangsters from Bacall as well as his previous relationship with a song and dance girl (Dolores Gray) who is featured in the production Bacall is currently designing costumes for.

The ex-girlfriend investigation on Bacall’s part and lying on Peck’s part is the tired old stuff that still gets trotted out for romantic comedies today. The gangster subplot is supposed to be comical, but it’s a little alarming that these characters’ lives are really on the line in such an otherwise lighthearted comedy. I mean, honestly, what in hell does a gangster vendetta have anything to do with an odd couple marriage comedy? The odd couple marriage premise didn’t have enough juice to fuel the plot, so they had to bring in gangsters? Come on.

Bacall and Peck are good, as usual, and there are some funny supporting actors as well including Mickey Shaughnessy as a punch-drunk ex-boxer and Jack Cole as an effete choreographer who, in the best pay off in the film, can kick ass when he needs to.

I suppose the film is best remembered today for two things – the featured fashions by costume designer Helen Rose and the Oscar-winning screenplay by George Wells. Unfortunately both aspects leave a little to be desired – I’m not fashion expert, but I felt like the film gave short shrift to the fashion world, especially considering the movie is called DESIGNING WOMAN. As an example, the film FUNNY FACE, from the same year, much more fully exploited the premise of a story taking place in the fashion world.

The screenplay is clever, at times, but must have seemed a lot more fresh and unique back in 1957 than it does today. Gimmicks like characters talking directly to the camera, as if being interviewed, multiple narrators giving multiple takes on the action, and gags based on character perception, like Peck’s audible and visible hangover, are all more modern than you’d normally see in a flick from this era. I assume in 1957 it was enough that these tricks were employed at all – these days, it’d be nice if they worked like clockwork instead of being a little clunky and over-written.

I feel like I’m shitting on the movie more than it deserves though. It’s not as if it is terrible, it’s just not great. It seems a little flat and bland, especially watching it the day after A FISH CALLED WANDA -- a film that is almost 25 years old and still feels more fresh and alive than many films made today.

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - A Fish Called Wanda

2012-02-22T15:26:00.003-08:00

A FISH CALLED WANDA is yet another entry in my on-going list of movies everyone else has seen that I hadn’t seen for the longest time. To be fair, I’ve seen parts of WANDA over the years, and remember it being around when I was a kid, but I never actually sat down to watch it from beginning to end. Now that I’ve seen it, I can scratch it off the short list of movies that cause people to remark in shock and disbelief, “You haven’t seen that?”

Anyway, it’ll come as no surprise to anyone reading this that of course I found A FISH CALLED WANDA to be as funny and charming as everyone else in the universe. I feel a little dumb sitting here writing about how good a movie is that everyone already loves. What more can I say that hasn’t already been said?

In case there is someone else out there who still hasn’t seen it, I should say A FISH CALLED WANDA is a farce about a British lawyer (John Cleese, who also wrote the screenplay) who finds himself entangled in the schemes of an American thief and con-woman (Jamie Lee Curtis) after a London jewel heist goes wrong. The mastermind of the heist (Tom Georgeson) is betrayed and arrested, to be represented in court by Cleese, and his accomplices fumble and plot in various attempts to get their hands on the missing loot.

The remaining thieves include Kevin Kline as an American pseudo-intellectual tough guy with a jealous streak and an inferiority complex and Michael Palin as a stuttering animal lover who particularly loves his aquarium full of fish and finds himself tasked with the murder of a little old lady (Patricia Hayes) who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

You might wonder what any of this has to do with romance, so I’ll tell you. Curtis’ character is willing to do anything and anyone in order to get her hands on the jewels, so most of her time is spent hopping in and out of beds and cheap costumes in an effort to control the men in her life. Luckily for Curtis this is almost easier done than said, since she is the strongest character in the movie and all of the men she finds herself going up against are dimwits. Eventually she finds herself seducing Cleese’s lawyer character, and although he has his fair share of moments of buffoonery, he is the only one who is even close to a match for her.

The romance between the two, while based on lies and manipulations, does manage to play off as sweet and believable. Although Curtis is double crossing criminal, she earns the audience’s sympathy as we see she’s easily too good for the situation she has found herself in. Similarly, though Cleese is stuffy and repressed, we sympathize with him because we see how he’s put-upon and taken for granted by his monstrous wife (Maria Aitken) and daughter (Cynthia Cleese, real life daughter of John).

Of course Kline and Palin are also memorable. Kline blusters and hams his way through comic scene after comic scene, always managing to completely destroy Curtis’ attempts at delicate plotting, either with his lack of intellect or his misplaced jealousy. Palin is more subtle, despite the exaggerated stutter, as the more “quiet” member of the den of thieves, simmering with indignation while going about his sordid affairs. When characters like these butt heads, you get famous scenes, like the one in which Kline threatens the beloved inhabitants of Palin’s aquarium.

So, now I’ve seen A FISH CALLED WANDA. I don’t know what took me so long, but I’m glad I do stuff like make lists of movies and then force myself to watch them, because if I didn’t the list of things I haven’t seen would never shrink.

Sadie Says:

A FISH CALLED WANDA is one of those movies I never tire of. I remember being terribly homesick when living abroad in the Czech Republic, so periodically I'd pop this sucker in, chocolate Milka bar and Pilsner in hand, and revel in the english language. It's one that I can't think of anything I would do to change it and holds up over time. Serious entertainment. Unfortunately, the sequel FIERCE CREATURES doesn't do any justice to the original. If you like Monty Python anything, you'll appreciate this movie in all of its glory.

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - Hello, Dolly!

2012-02-20T19:17:00.001-08:00

One of the perks of the first Romancefest was learning to love Barbra Streisand after watching 3 of her flicks in one month. Sadly, last year's Romancefest suffered from a distinct lack of Babs. Now, Babs makes her triumphant return to Romancefest in HELLO, DOLLY!

Taking place in 1890s New York, HELLO, DOLLY! follows the title character, a widowed matchmaker played by Streisand, as she decides it's time for her to come out of mourning and get back into life, specifically by snagging herself a husband. She has her heart set on a rich grocer (Walter Matthau) from small-town Yonkers, but he's on his way to New York City in the hopes of securing a dutiful wife in the form of a hat shop proprietress (Marianne McAndrew).

This is a farce of epic proportions, so the amount of romantic entanglements and ancilliary characters gets a little ridiculous, but in an effort to keep it short I'll just say that Streisand and Matthau's other worries include Matthau's niece (Joyce Ames) who wants to marry an artist (Tommy Tune) and the two clerks from Matthau's store (Michael Crawford and Danny Lockin) who decide to take advantage of their boss's absence to have a little fun of their own in the big city.

As the movie unfolded I was reminded of the Tom Stoppard play I was in back in high school, ON THE RAZZLE, in which I played a horny coachman. Turns out that play is an adaptation of a Viennese play by Johann Noestroy which was previously adapted by Thornton Wilder, and eventually transformed into its most popular version, the Broadway musical HELLO, DOLLY! Go figure, you learn something new every day. Sadly the horny coachman did not make it into this version. I assume it's because if he had he would have stolen the entire show from Dolly herself, but I'm just making a wild guess based on my own exquisite performance.

It is interesting to note that DOLLY! was directed by Gene Kelly, who starred in the good but claustrophobic-feeling BRIGADOON. DOLLY! is the opposite of BRIGADOON, filmed in many wide open outdoor locations and giant sets where the song and dance sequences can be staged without worrying about the extras spinning right into the soundstage walls.

As usual, Streisand is great, belting out the songs with equal parts authority and vulnerability one second and delivering rapid fire jokes the next. In fact, it's this combination of authority and vulnerability that lends the movie any authentic poignancy at all amid the chaos, and this is a similar trait to many of Streisand's most memorable characters. She's able to rule the stage and screen while also engaging an audience's sympathy, which is no easy trick.

Matthau is also awesome, though after the first few scenes he unfortunately fades to the background. More time is spent on the side characters than really needs to be, though they're charming at first, particularly Crawford who went on to fame (or infamy?) as Broadway's PHANTOM OF THE OPERA. Still, DOLLY! does not suffer from its bloated running time as much as GUYS AND DOLLS does, perhaps due to the variety of wacky stuff that's constantly going on.

Oh, and Louis Armstrong pops up for a few seconds, so that's enough to bump any movie up a couple notches.

Sadie Says:

Over the last couple Romancefests, Paul got super into Streisand. He kinda loves her secretly and not so secretly, can get down with Yentyl, and can comment on the evolution of her acting when asked. He also loves him some Matthau. With that in mind, HELLO DOLLY seemed like an appropriate suggestion for all intents and purposes.

The role on Broadway was originally meant for Ethel Merman who turned it down and was immediately made famous by Carol Channing. Many a famous actress (including Ginger Rogers, Betty Grable, and Pearl Bailey) had a stab at Dolly Levi on Broadway, but Streisand's performance for the screen is her own.

Paul's review is a great one and captures Streisand being Streisand. She kinda has playing Streisand down, no? Matthau gets to play cranky, a role he's perfected as well, and Louis gets to play Louis. Gene Kelly does a great job in his directorial debut and it's no surprise he was excellent at capturing musical theater given his background.

In the remake of HELLO DOLLY adapted by Paul Apel and Sadie Phillips,
the horny coachman makes it in, has a near perfect singing performance with Outkast, and keeps the champagne flowing while doing the hora. Oy.

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - Shall We Dance?

2012-02-20T18:56:00.000-08:00

Next, we travel to Japan for SHALL WE DANCE?, a sweet romantic comedy about the unique power of dance to lift the weight of inhibition from a repressed soul. At least, I assume dance has that power. You won't catch me dancing. Unless C&C Music Factory comes on when I'm shopping at the QFC. Then I suddenly become the Fred Astaire of the baking aisle.

SHALL WE DANCE? is the story of an accountant (Koji Yakusho) who has acquired a wife, a daughter, and the house of his dreams, and now feels bored and empty and unable to enjoy these things. The only glimmer of light in his life is his glimpses of a beautiful woman gazing out the window of a dance school visible from his commuter train. One day, Yakusho finally steps off the train and into the dance school, and begins taking ballroom dancing lessons in secret. His teacher (Reiko Kusamura) is wise and kind, but as he learns, he keeps one eye on the beautiful woman in the window who turns out to be another teacher at the school -- an ex-professional ballroom dancer (Tamiyo Kusakari).

The poignancy of this story comes from the reserved nature of the Japanese culture. I'm no expert, but as the film explains it, married couples in Japan rarely display affection in public, let alone dance, so a serious family man taking dance classes is an embarrassing scandal to be viewed with suspicion. Against this backdrop, it is very touching to see the way Yakusho begins to open up as he becomes more and more comfortable with his instructors and his fellow students, including a co-worker by day who is a flamboyant sex God on the dance floor by night (Naoto Takenaka).

As the plot develops, a competition inevitably becomes involved, and Yakusho is eventually in training to partner up with another instructor at the school (Eriko Watanabe), a proud and stubborn outspoken woman. Still, all the while, his eyes are on the alluring and mysterious woman in the window, Kusakari.

But this is all just fluff -- the real meat of the film is in the relationships between the characters, all shy in their own ways and all waiting for the right opportunity to bloom. It's always nice in movies when people really help each other, even if it's in small ways, and that's what this movie is about -- getting outside oneself, becoming involved with other people, and finding help in friendship.

Yakusho is an easy protagonist for me to relate to. Although the film explains his reservations as being uniquely Japanese, I find that I have many of the same problems, and often resort to gazing dreamily out of windows in search of answers.

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - A Room with a View

2012-02-20T18:30:00.000-08:00

Time for another Merchant/Ivory film, this time A ROOM WITH A VIEW. Much funnier and more lighthearted than THE REMAINS OF THE DAY, but no less beautiful, this love story centers on the coming of age of an upper class, Victorian English country girl played by Helena Bonham Carter.

As the story begins, Bonham-Carter and her older chaperone (Maggie Smith) are on vacation in Florence, Italy. Against this backdrop, they meet a variety of eccentric characters, including a free-thinking father (Denholm Elliott) and son (Julian Sands) who are staying in the same hotel. It isn't long before Bonham-Carter and Sands are exchanging furtive glances, and before you know it they've had their first romantic kiss. This is more than a little scandalous as Sands does not seem to share the Victorian ideals of the day.

Back in England, Bonham-Carter becomes engaged to marry a perfect example of these Victorian ideals -- a stuffy and pretentious gentleman played with hilarious flair by Daniel Day-Lewis. Her brief and innocent romance in Florence eventually comes back to haunt her, and Bonham-Carter must eventually decide whether or not to stick with the traditionally safe but boring Day-Lewis, or embrace the free spirit and adventure of Sands.

This is a simple story, so most of the pleasure comes from the way it is told. This is a movie about moods, feelings and tones, not about plot. Sure, there's plenty of plot, most of it in the mind of Bonham-Carter, with her mostly needless machinations and secrets, but where the movie succeeds, it does so by making the viewer feel the warmth of a perfect summer day in the country by seemingly effortless combinations of beautiful photography, nice scenery, pretty music and quirky performances.

It was fun to see all these great dramatic actors turning in some lighter performances than they get to now that they're older. I'm sure they could all still turn in great comedic performances, but it seems like the more respect you get the less chance you get to have any fun. I guess that's the best part about this movie, which might seem surprising given Merchant/Ivory's somewhat stuffy image -- you can tell everyone in it is having fun.

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - Children of Paradise

2012-02-20T18:04:00.000-08:00

Time for the first foreign language film of Romancefest 3 -- CHILDREN OF PARADISE. This 1945 production is considered by many to be the greatest French film of all time, and by some to be the single greatest film ever made. The story behind the production is as dramatic -- or perhaps moreso -- than the film itself, as it was produced at the height of World War II in Nazi-occupied France. This would be no small feat for a little independent picture, but CHILDREN OF PARADISE is about as big and sweeping as you can get, so it's miraculous that it was ever made.

Of course, none of this would be remembered if the film itself wasn't any good, and it is. The story involves bohemian artists living in Paris in the mid 1800s and their romantic entanglements, all revolving around the theater and all involving a beautiful actress (Arletty). Her many suitors include a flamboyant actor (Pierre Brasseur), a tortured genius mime (Jean-Louis Barrault), a writer by day, criminal by night (Marcel Herrand) and a rich but boring count (Louis Salo).

The epic film is divided into two parts, the first during which the men vie for Arletty's affection while struggling for artistic success, and the second during which Arletty has settled for the boring count and her other suitors have all found success, in one way or another, while still pining after her.

This brief description makes the movie sound like nothing more than a soap opera, but thanks to the lavish production and multi-layered screenplay by Jacques Prevert, CHILDREN OF PARADISE transcends its melodramatic genre. The movie is as much about love, loss and regret as it is about the creative impulse, the mystery of the muse, and the way life imitates art and art imitates life. The dialogue, even in its English translation, is musical enough to do Shakespeare proud, so it's fitting that there is much talk of Shakespeare (specifically OTHELLO) among the characters.

There is a certain pleasure in watching a well-crafted story unfold, and I felt that while watching CHILDREN OF PARADISE. At first I wasn't sure where the movie was going, then the movie's romantic entanglements distracted me, and before I knew it I could see that the film was one step ahead of me the whole time. By the time I saw the screenplay ushering characters into their places and setting things up for unavoidable tragedy, I wasn't distracted by the thought that I could see where things were going so much as wowed by the way the movie made the plot developments seem more like the hands of fate than a writers' contrivances.

CHILDREN OF PARADISE is big, overblown, romantic, and yes, important. But it is also funny, heartbreaking and suspenseful. It seems appropriate that a film about artists and entertainers should be the perfect example of art and entertainment effortlessly fitting together.

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - The Remains of the Day

2012-02-17T15:45:00.000-08:00

It's hard not to identify with the butler played by Anthony Hopkins in THE REMAINS OF THE DAY, a tragic love story about a man who spends most of his life being wrong and only begins to fully understand his mistake when it is far too late. Some people must live with more regrets than others, but I imagine even the happiest, most well adjusted person sometimes wonders what might have been if only things had worked out a little differently. The fact that this story exists is proof that I'm not alone with these thoughts, but I wonder how many people are truthful enough with their own feelings to even consider how wrong they might have been.

Hopkins stars as the head butler at an estate in England. As the story begins, a new lord has taken over the manor, a retired American politician played by Christopher Reeve. Hopkins has asked for a leave of absence to visit the manor's old head of housekeeping, Emma Thompson, who he hasn't seen in 20 years. As Hopkins begins his journey across the country, he reminisces on his days of service with Thompson in the years between the World Wars, when the lord of the manor was a Nazi sympathizer (James Fox).

The thrust of the story involves Hopkins' character's own views on his position in life. As far as he's concerned, he's dedicated and loyal to his lord. It is not his job to have an opinion, or show emotion, or get involved in anything other than the day to day tasks of making sure the house runs smoothly. He takes this position so seriously that it eventually interferes with his personal relationships with his father (Peter Vaughan) who comes to the house to work in his old age, and with Thompson, who he is clearly in love with, and who returns his affections, but who he can never be truthful with.

Hopkins also struggles to understand the place of morals and ethics in the small corner of the world that he has devoted himself to. It is one thing to blindly serve in a vacuum, but the world is not a vacuum, and Hopkins' employer is knee deep in trying to influence the important heads of state and nobility of England to roll over for Hitler. In the days leading up to the second World War, world affairs intrude into the household more and more until it gets to the point that following a simple order may turn out to be a question of morality. Take, for instance, the crucial scene in which Fox orders Hopkins to fire two Jewish refugees who have escaped Germany and come to work at the house.

Hopkins doesn't say anything to betray his stance on the issue, but we can clearly see on his face that he questions the wisdom and meaning of such an order. He goes through with it, but not until after an argument with Thompson, who is just as professional as he is, but who is not afraid to say that it is wrong and that if the Jewish girls go, she goes, too.

Of course, she does not go. She has nowhere to go, and she's afraid of being alone. The difference between Thompson and Hopkins is that Thompson freely admits this. She speaks her moral stance, then owns up to her own weaknesses. Hopkins tries his best not to betray any hint of his own personal feelings, to the extent that Thompson believes he either doesn't care or agrees with their employer. When Hopkins finally says otherwise, in casual conversation, Thompson is exasperated -- why didn't he just say that in the first place? Why can't he ever say what he means?

I think a lot of people can probably relate to this conundrum. Everyone wants to be understood, but sometimes people are afraid to communicate. I've had many instances where I wanted to say or do something, and I didn't, and I could tell I was doing the wrong thing even as it was happening. The more it happens, the more it becomes almost an out of body experience, as if you're watching yourself say or do the wrong things, or betray your own feelings, but you can't do anything to stop yourself. You think, "Here I go again," but that doesn't help. It seems so simple -- saying what you mean. But it's not.

THE REMAINS OF THE DAY is beautifully shot and impeccably acted. This quietly complex story is approached with all of the attention to detail and restraint that it needs and deserves. Still, the drama explored here is so universal and so touching, all of this beauty seems to stand at a starkly poignant counterpoint to the sad, regretful, quiet man at its center.

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - Guys and Dolls

2012-02-17T14:23:00.000-08:00

GUYS AND DOLLS is one of those musicals I always heard about but never really saw. I couldn’t have even told you which famous songs come from this musical, but now I know the only one I really recognized was “Luck Be a Lady.” And guess what? Sinatra doesn’t even sing it! As unlikely as it might seem, Marlon Brando gets to belt out this gem.

The film stars Brando and Sinatra as a couple of gamblers hanging out in Times Square. Sinatra’s secretly running a “floating” craps game, hiding it from both his long-time showgirl fiancé (Vivian Blaine) and his cop arch nemesis (Robert Keith). The story starts with Sinatra desperate to raise some money to fund the game, and he sees Brando as his mark. Unfortunately, Brando is a slightly more successful gambler than Sinatra, and is always one step ahead, until Sinatra plays on his weakness – women.

Soon, the two have a bet: Sinatra bets Brando can’t take just any woman on his upcoming trip to Havana. Brand bets he can. The catch: Sinatra gets to pick the woman, and she turns out to be the morally self-righteous head missionary of the local mission (Jean Simmons). She’s cute enough, but not at all interested in gambling, drinking, or going to Havana with a strange man.

Since we’ve all seen this basic plot many times since GUYS AND DOLLS (and probably before it, too) it will come as no surprise that Brando successfully dupes and then falls in love with Simmons. Meanwhile, it will also come as no surprise that Sinatra overcomes his fear of commitment and marries the long suffering Blaine. So, really, the only thing left to interest the audience is the movie’s style.

Thankfully, the movie has plenty of style to go around, from the impressionistic Times Square and Havana sets to the wild costume design – a fusion of depression era gangsters and molls and then-contemporary cutting edge fashion. We’ve also got two leads with plenty of flair, Sinatra and Brando, one better suited for a musical than the other but both well suited for their con-man roles. Brando is fascinating to watch as he seduces Simmons and Sinatra is plenty funny and sympathetic as the put-upon gambler. The leading ladies are also well cast, with Blaine coming straight from Broadway with a comedic performance that seems to predict the likes of Madeline Kahn, and Simmons making the most of a somewhat thankless role, especially in the Havana scenes when she can really open up.

The main problem with GUYS AND DOLLS is that it gets bogged down in its own paint by numbers plot. The movie runs long at 2 hours and 30 minutes. This isn’t so bad when it’s exploring the relationships between the characters or indulging in musical numbers, but gets a little annoying when we’re forced to sit through obligatory ups and downs that are still happening 2 hours into the flick. I guess this was at the height of the cinema’s attempts to avoid being destroyed by television, so long-form entertainment was deemed appropriate not only for stories with an epic scope but also for more lightweight fare like romantic musical comedies.

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - Heaven Can Wait

2012-02-15T15:30:00.000-08:00

HEAVEN CAN WAIT starts with an interesting premise – a recently deceased rich playboy (Don Ameche) assumes he’s destined to go to hell, so he voluntarily shows up to surrender himself to the devil (Laird Cregar). The devil, however, has different plans, as he asks Ameche to elaborate on exactly why automatically assumes he’s sentenced to eternal damnation by telling him his life story.

Turns out Ameche’s biggest crimes were that he was a spoiled only child of privilege, and that he had an insatiable appetite for women, which eventually made his 25 year marriage to the great love of his life (Gene Tierney) more difficult than it otherwise had to be.

To the movie’s credit, it fully exploits this premise, carefully going over the facts of the case of Ameche’s life from birth until death, not unlike more modern pictures like ANNIE HALL – this film is uniquely introspective for a movie from the early 40s. Perhaps this is because the director, Ernst Lubitsch, who was going through a divorce at the time of the film’s production, saw something personal in it.

Lubitsch, like Preston Sturges, is a director I’ve been meaning to bone up on for years but have been lazy about, for whatever reason. Even since I saw TO BE OR NOT TO BE years ago, I’ve thought, I need to check this guy out. So, I’m glad I finally have another Lubitsch under my belt.

Ameche and Tierney are great as the central married couple, and their relationship is believable and probably not quite as dated as most people would like to believe. Ameche resists the temptation to lay it on too thick as the playboy type, and mostly just acts like a decent (if impulsive) guy. Tierney’s beauty and grace makes it easily clear why Ameche would be fall so easily and deeply in love with her, and both actors do a credible job of playing their characters over several decades of life, in sickness and in health.

Like most films of the classic Hollywood era, HEAVEN CAN WAIT benefits from a stellar supporting cast including Charles Coburn as Ameche’s sympathetic and conspiratorial grandfather and Marjorie Main and Eugene Pallette as Tierney’s unhappily married parents who love to hate each other. Laird Cregar, who I mentioned earlier, also turns in a memorable performance as an uncharacteristically sympathetic lord of the underworld.

I have to admit, I’m not 100% sure I understand the point this movie is trying to make, if any. After all, if you take the events of the movie literally and look at them objectively, Ameche was a guy who did commit a few sins, at the expense of some people he purported to love. But, I guess maybe that gets to the point of the film, which is that you can’t really look at anyone literally and objectively because you’ll always have your own filter, or their filter, or someone else’s filter, obscuring the so-called truth, whatever that is.

I guess, if anything, it’s a comforting notion that even if you damn yourself to hell with your own guilty conscience, Satan himself might take pity on you.

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - Brigadoon

2012-02-14T15:37:00.000-08:00

BRIGADOON is a movie that has strengths and weaknesses that stem from the same elements. Here is a movie that takes place in Scottish highlands, but was shot entirely on soundstages. A modern movie like this, and even some movies contemporary to this one, would have taken full advantage of location shooting, with lots of scenic cinematography and local color.

So, on one hand, BRIGADOON seems like a missed opportunity. On the other hand, the sets for this film are magnificent and the matte backgrounds are amazing examples of a lost art, and they do provide breath taking scenery. No matter where it was shot, the movie is beautiful to look at.

The studio sets do help to provide the fairy tale atmosphere, however, which is appropriate for the magical tale of BRIGADOON, a small Scottish village that only appears once every 100 hears for 1 day. Gene Kelly and Van Johnson star as two American hunters on vacation in Scotland who stumble upon the village and become involved with the locals as they prepare for a big wedding.

It isn’t long before Kelly is in love with the sister of the bride, Cyd Charisse, and the two of them dance around the countryside collecting heather before Kelly even fully understands what’s going on. Of course, when he learns that the village is due to disappear and that he’ll need to decide whether he wants to stay or not, he realizes the gravity of the problem.

BRIGADOON as a vehicle for Kelly is an interesting choice. The dance numbers aren’t particularly spectacular, though they’re nice enough, and Kelly seems a little too savvy to buy into this fantasy world. Johnson fares better, however, getting all the best lines as a cynic who finds himself face to face with magic. There’s a great scene in which he sets up three lit cigarettes in three ash trays at the bar, just to keep people from sitting next to him.

Despite the fact that BRIGADOON is a fairly lighthearted fairy tale romance, the magical village has kind of a dark undercurrent to it. If any villager leaves the boundary of the village, all the other villagers and the village itself ceases to exist. Meanwhile, every 100 years, the villagers age only 1 day, the rest of the world changing around them. Most of the villagers view this as a blessing -- they’ve been saved from the ravages of the modern world by this miracle. But, it could also be viewed as a curse, as the villagers are doomed to never leave their small town and stand apart from the rest of the world for all eternity.

This magical device does work as a nice metaphor for the problems of time and place that interrupt relationships in the real world. As usual, a fantastical device actually works better at illustrating mundane everyday problems than a more literal approach might, and Kelly’s ultimate decision at the end of the movie is that much more touching because of it.

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - Love in the Afternoon

2012-02-12T16:41:00.000-08:00

I was looking forward to LOVE IN THE AFTERNOON going into it, because I already love Audrey Hepburn, Gary Cooper and Maurice Chevalier, and already love writer/director Billy Wilder, who is responsible for not only several classics, but also a few that happen to be among my favorites.

Hepburn, beautiful as always, stars as a naive young cellist living in Paris with her father (Maurice Chevalier), a detective specializing in adultery cases. Hepburn can't help but be turned on by the sordid affairs Chevalier deals with, much to Chevalier's dismay. The story starts with Hepburn preventing a cuckolded husband (John McGiver) from murdering his romantic rival, Gary Cooper as a business tycoon playboy.

Hepburn and Cooper fall for each other and begin an anonymous romance, meeting each other in the afternoons. Hepburn knows all about Cooper, thanks to her fathers' sizable file on the serial philanderer, but Cooper knows nothing about her. This is Hepburn's first romance, and she's head over heels, but she protects herself by presenting it as one in a long string of romances, creating elaborate stories of her imaginary ex-lovers in order to impress Cooper.

For the first half hour, or so, the movie kept its momentum. Then it settled into the series of afternoons between Hepburn and Cooper and lost some steam. The final half hour and romantic climax proved to be great, but the whole movie sagged in the middle. This romantic comedy runs about 2 hours and 10 minutes, but it only has enough story for about 90 minutes.

That's not to say it wasn't basically enjoyable -- it's not one of Wilder's best, but a mediocre Billy Wilder film is better than most average films, anyway. It's still cute and funny and romantic, and Wilder gets a lot of mileage out of "The Gypsies" -- a musical quartet hired by Cooper at first to come to his hotel room and provide atmosphere for his romantic conquests, and later as loyal sidekicks who follow him all over Paris. Also, the relationship between Chevalier and Hepburn as father and daughter is poignant and even more effective than the romantic relationship here.

The heart and soul of the movie lies with Chevalier. Whether he's playing a gentle, loving father or a dirty old man, he always seems to have more inherent wisdom about the ways of love and sex than any other character in a given movie. He's one of those screen presences who simply radiates warmth just by showing up.

Sadie Says:

One of the things I love about Billy Wilder movies, is the introduction to many of his films. Like IRMA LA DOUCE, LOVE IN THE AFTERNOON starts out with a fine introduction with beautiful shots of Paris, a narrator (in this case Chevalier), a meeting with the characters, and a quick change in on what Billy Wilder does best--A love story.

LITA is not a love story of convention, but one filled with intimacy behind closed doors. It's not one that makes a whole lot of sense at first watch, but one that is left to the imagination, time, and distance. Close up shots make this movie. Often these films are hard to swallow and LITA is no exception, however the dynamic acting, cinematography, and the music of the Gypsies keep LITA high on my list as a not to be missed Wilder film.

What is also interesting to note about LITA, is that this is the first of twelve films written by Billy Wilder and I.A.L. Diamond on the famous grounds of "The Lot" in Hollywood, CA. The Lot was a haven for Ernst Lubitsch, Billy Wilder, Preston Sturges etc. They went on to write many flicks including SOME LIKE IT HOT, IRMA LA DOUCE, THE APARTMENT, FORTUNE COOKIE and so on and so forth.

I love the idea of "THE LOT." A home away from home, solely for writers, famous ones and non-famous alike, to congregate, eat lunch, work, and bounce ideas off one another for days. In the era of classic Hollywood movies, writers were hired as is, to write great screenplays and nothing more. It seems like there actually might be value to this model of writing, as some of the greatest movies of all time have come out of this all-star writers think tank. LITA is no exception.

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - Bull Durham

2012-02-11T20:32:00.001-08:00

One of the worst things about being a guy who likes movies is that no matter how many movies you watch, there's always something you have wanted to see that you haven't gotten around to yet. This is most apparent when there's something I haven't seen that everyone else has seen, especially if they know I'm supposedly a movie guy. Everyone gets the old, "You haven't seen that?" thing, but I suspect I get it more than most.

Anyway, there are a few usual suspects that come up more often than others, and BULL DURHAM must be in the top 5. I've seen bits and pieces of it over the years, just never the whole thing. I've always known it was well liked, and always figured I'd like it. I just never got around to it. Until now. Now that I've seen it, I can stop saying I haven't seen it and you can stop saying, "You haven't seen it?"

One of the reasons I always figured I'd like it, aside from the universal praise for it, was the fact that I tend to like baseball movies. And, within the first few seconds of the movie, the baseball mythos gave me chills twice. The first time was the shot of Susan Sarandon approaching the minor league field at dusk, the lights illuminating the stadium from a distance. The second time was a few moments later, as the camera followed Sarandon through the dark tunnel and out into the bright ballpark, the field unfolding in front of her.

I think this was partly just because baseball is so ingrained in the cultural subconscious that it's tough not to react with nostalgia to shots like that, but also because it seemed to so accurately reflect my own experiences attending minor league games. I clearly remember the sights, sounds and smells approaching the ballpark on game night as a kid, and heading through that tunnel to see the field suddenly appear in front of me. The film lets you smell the grass, the beer, the hot dogs. And this is all before it even really starts.

Sarandon stars as a baseball groupie who delights in choosing one minor leaguer each year, blessing him with her sexual attentions, and improving his season before he moves on to the majors. I guess calling her a groupie is a little patronizing -- she's a three dimensional character who knows what she's doing and why she's doing it. She is not struck dumb by fandom and is not a tool for the players to use as much as the players are there for her to enjoy. She has a million philosophies about baseball and life, considers them to basically intertwine, and pulls from many literary and spiritual influences. Yes, she's kind of full of shit, but she kind of knows it. If you have to be full of shit, that's the way to do it.

Thing is, Costner is more of an intellectual match for Sarandon than Robbins is, and has something in common with her, spiritually, since both of them worship baseball as something more important than just a means to a material end.

BULL DURHAM is a perfect romantic comedy. Like the best romantic comedies, it doesn't dwell on the relationships at hand, specifically. Instead, it gives us a red herring, in this case baseball, and lets that stand in as a metaphor for what's really going on. To BULL DURHAM's credit, it knows way more about its red herring of choice than most movies like this tend to, so it never feels contrived. Because of this, no one would ever refer to it as that most dreaded, sexist term -- a chick-flick. Here's a Hollywood romantic comedy that doesn't feel contrived, doesn't feel sexist, and treats the sex lives of adults realistically as opposed to either shameful or magical. And, it's funny!

So, there's no wonder everyone loves BULL DURHAM. I do, too.

Sadie Says:

As Paul mentioned, when I recommended BULL DURHAM, I expected him to say, "Duh, I've seen it a million times." Much to my surprise and delight, Paul had never seen the film in its entirety, nor had he witnessed what I believe to be one the greatest romance and baseball movies of all time.

Fact: Susan Sarandon and Tim Robbins met on this movie and fell in love. Goddamn I'm a sucker for offscreen romance. It still pains me personally that they "aimicably" decided to end their relationship several years ago and go their separate ways. However, in the case of BD, secretly, I always wished that behind the scenes Ms. Sarandon and Mr. Kostner got it on and were in fact the characters they embody so well.

Bring in a whole cast of misfit characters, a genius screenplay, and what was considered to be a "hot" bath scene and we got ourselves a classic movie. In many ways, this strong female lead in Sarandon (and so many others in Romancefest Sadiefest) are called on some of their shit. It doesn't in any way take away the intelligence, independence, or what I believe to be "cool factor" of these outspoken women, but in many ways these strong male leads bring them back to their most human and vulnerable state. This quality in film translates and is played out perfectly on the screen in Bull Durham in the style of many a Hepburn flick (see Philadelphia Story).

Never to be skipped on cable, Bull Durham holds up just fine on any day, even if it's supposed to be a rained out.

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - Royal Wedding

2012-02-11T19:53:00.000-08:00

Fred Astaire, Romancefest alum from such greats as TOP HAT and SWING TIME returns in ROYAL WEDDING. As usual, Astaire plays a song and dance man, this time teamed up in a brother and sister act with his guy crazy sister (Jane Powell). The two entertainers are married to their career, so Powell only has time to date guys for a couple days at a time, but she has a big enough appetite to keep the guys stacked up. Astaire, on the other hand, doesn't seem to have time for any romance at all, and neither performer cares to ever get married.

That is, until they're summoned to England during the weeks leading up to titular wedding of Princess Elizabeth and Prince Philip in order to perform their successful stage show in London. Brother and sister find unlikely romances in the likes of a dancer in their upcoming show (Sarah Churchill) and a Lord who has as healthy an appetite for women as Powell has for men (Peter Lawford). Unfortunately, Churchill is in the middle of a long distance relationship with an incommunicative fiance and Powell is having second thoughts about committing the rest of her life to Lawford and giving up her career.

Of course, as with most Astaire films, ROYAL WEDDING has a plot that is a mere clothesline to hang the show stopping song and dance numbers on, and this movie has a couple of Astaire's most famous, including one number in which Astaire transforms an inanimate hat rack into a lively dance partner and another in which Astaire seems to defy gravity as he dances on the ceiling and walls of his hotel room. There's also a funny scene in which Astaire and Powell attempt to perform on the tilting stage of an ocean liner, slipping and sliding and watching props fly by.

Watching the movie is worth it for these scenes alone, though the non-dancing climax is also memorable as Astaire and the rest of the cast are intercut with what appears to be actual footage of the famous royal wedding as they chase each other to the alter.

There's also a memorable supporting cast including Keenan Wynn in a dual role as both an American and British theater agent, playing against himself in a couple comedic scenes. My favorite supporting player, however, was Albert Sharpe as Churchill's father, who owns a pub in London and laments his separation from his wife. This is just a subplot, but Sharpe is so great in his little bits of screen time, I fell in love with him. The way Astaire and Sharpe form a supportive little friendship was genuinely touching, even more touching than the central romantic relationships.

The films of Fred Astaire look and feel deceptively like shallow fluff, but they're more than that. The expression of character, story and emotion through these insanely complicated dance numbers is something that is uniquely cinematic, and like the best art, it is able to articulate the intangible stuff of humanity more exactly in an abstract way than it could ever be expressed in a literal way.

One note for AVphiles -- apparently MGM let ROYAL WEDDING slide into the public domain, so it is widely available in lots of different bargain basement releases. Because of this, the source material for these releases isn't always the best. I watched it on the "watch instantly" feature on Netflix, and it was a shitty print, so I'm assuming this must be from one of these small-time releases. It's my understanding there is a good release available from Warner, so if you want to watch the movie, I recommend seeking this out.

Sadie Says:

Since the last Romancefest, there has indeed been a royal wedding in England, so it only seemed appropriate to watch ROYAL WEDDING! I originally discovered and purchased my copy of this movie for around 99 cents at a Rite Aid somewhere in Los Angeles (thank you public domain). It was probably after 2:00 in the morning, I probably also got some sour patch kids, and I can only assume some cheap wet & wild nail polish. I remember being really surprised to find that this classic gem contained the famous Astaire dancing on the walls and ceiling number "You're All The World To Me."

The number is still amazing and really does make you wonder how they did that? After looking it up a few years ago, I found out that MGM built the set inside a revolving steel barrel and mounted the camera and operator to the floor so they would rotate along with the room. It's a technique that has since been repeated and still used to today in film, music video, TV, you name it.

The other numbers aren't half bad either. Lots of singing, lots of dancing, a trip to Haiti, some brother/sister dynamic duo action (a story that echoes Astaire's ascent into show business), and lots of real footage of Queen Elizabeth's Royal Wedding. Clearly this fascination with Royal Weddings has been around for a lot longer than Wills and Kate, and ROYAL WEDDING is the perfect place to see the mayhem first hand.

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - Xanadu

2012-02-10T13:48:00.000-08:00

If you ever wanted to see a movie about a frustrated artist who fulfills his dreams by creating the greatest roller disco the world has ever seen, then XANADU is the movie for you.

If not, you better skip it.

XANADU is one of those movies where I’m tempted to say you have to see it in order to believe it. But, I don’t want to mistakenly recommend actually watching it. So, maybe it’s okay for you to go through life not quite believing XANADU exists?

The afore-mentioned frustrated artist (Michael Beck) works for a record company, duplicating album covers, when he comes across a cover featuring a girl he recently ran into who kissed him and then disappeared in a flash of light, like the Enterprise when it goes into warp speed. Beck decides he must find this woman.

This is Olivia Newton-John. Thanks to an early scene in which a mural on a brick wall comes to life, with more flashes of sci-fi light, we know Newton-John is a supernatural being. Turns out she’s a muse, sent from above to help Beck achieve his disco dreams.

Also on hand to help is Gene Kelly in his last screen performance as an old man who sits on the beach playing the clarinet. Turns out he once ran a sweet club and wants to run one again. So, Beck, Kelly and Newton-John team up to transform a gloriously art-deco (but broken down) auditorium into Xanadu, the roller disco to end all roller discos.

The movie has at least one good moment, a dance scene between Kelly and Newton-John. It also has some good music performed by Electric Light Orchestra. And, Newton-John carries over her same enthusiastic and sweet screen presence from GREASE.

But, that’s about all XANADU has to offer. Almost everything else is a mess. You could argue the movie is hopelessly dated and that you kind of have to view it on its own terms in order to enjoy it, but I’ve seen plenty of other films from the late 70s and early 80s that do not suffer from this problem, and plenty of others that do have this problem, but overcome it anyway.

The problem begins with Beck as the leading man but continues into the thrust of the story. He’s pretty bland and forgettable in his performance, but he also has basically nothing to work with. All he really has to do is to stare into Newton-John’s big, beautiful eyes like a loyal puppy dog and even that seems to be a problem. Even the great Gene Kelly seems wasted here – on one hand, he provides the film’s only moment of genius, and on the other it’s frustrating and a little embarrassing that he’s in this mess in the first place.

Just as a quick example – FOOTLIGHT PARADE was similarly built on a flimsy premise that was just an excuse for a bunch of dance numbers. The difference is, PARADE crackled with intensity and moved at a rapid fire pace. XANADU, on the other hand, lazily wallows in decadence. PARADE’s song and dance sequences were mind blowing enough to stop the show and get away with it. XANADU’s are poorly executed and confusing. They stop the show, all right.

Sadie Says:

This movie is ridiculous. I can't figure out how this film got made in the first place, but once a decade, I'm really happy that somebody owed somebody a favor. I'm pretty into the roller disco scene, so there you go. In addition, the Electric Light Orchestra score is hard to ignore. If you're into ELO, then this should not be missed. Full Discloure: This film is probably best watched under the influence of something...anything....really....I'm serious...

The Fred Astaire counterpart to this film is FINIAN'S RAINBOW, a film that has a much more traditional musical score, but is equally out there in plot. The flick involves a leprechaun and a whole lot of shenanigans. As i'm thinking about it all, my best guess is that for someone who is a fan of old films, I've always been interested to see how these magnificent men of the of musical make even the worst of films watchable ones. Gene Kelly can make even the most ridiculously plotted film (considered by many a critic), a masterpiece.

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - High Society

2012-02-10T13:41:00.000-08:00

In HIGH SOCIETY, a young socialite often accused of being an ice queen (Grace Kelly) finds herself torn between three suitors on the eve of her wedding – her bland but decent fiancé (John Lund), her Jazz musician ex-husband who lives in a neighboring mansion (Bing Crosby), and a tabloid journalist sent to cover the nuptials (Frank Sinatra).

Sound familiar? Maybe that’s because this is a remake of the famous PHILADELPHIA STORY. This one takes a unique angle by adding the trappings of a musical to the proceedings, and one of the movie’s strengths is the way Louis Armstrong and his band (as themselves) are incorporated to help tell the story in musical narration and funny side dialogue.

One of the movie’s weaknesses, though, is the fact that it’s a remake of THE PHILDELPHIA STORY. It’s not that Kelly, Crosby and Sinatra aren’t any good. They are. They just aren’t Hepburn, Grant and Stewart. But who is? No one. It’s not really a fair comparison, and it definitely takes balls to remake a film starring three of the greatest movie stars of all time, but there you have it.

The movie shines during the musical sequences. There isn’t much in the way of complex set pieces or dance numbers, but Crosby, Sinatra and Armstrong each have undeniable stage presences and you don’t want to look away when they’re strutting their stuff. My two favorite sequences were probably the one featuring Crosby introducing Armstrong and his band, as each member got to show off, and a scene where Sinatra and Crosby drunkenly face off (and become buddies) while singing in the library-turned-bar. It’s clear the elements were here to make a classic, I’m just not sure their best use was at the service of remaking THE PHILADELPHIA STORY.

Visually the movie doesn’t give us much to look at. It’s shot in color and VistaVision and oddly sticks to long shots for what should be a fairly intimate story. Instead of a series of romantic close ups, we get big widescreen shots of… drawing rooms and backyards. This reduces the performers to little figures walking around immense sets, which might work in some movies, but is wrong for this one.

I didn’t notice this as much in THE PHILDAELPHIA STORY, but for much of the running time of HIGH SOCIETY I found it a little hard to sympathize with Kelly’s conflicted bride. She threw off a perfectly good husband, the laid back, affable, confident, sweet and talented Crosby, and romances a man she just met (Sinatra) on the eve of her wedding. This is the same stuff Hepburn pulled in the original, but for some reason it seemed less annoying when she was doing it. I guess Hepburn just has that X-factor that the otherwise talented and beautiful Kelly lacks – Hepburn projects intelligence and self-confidence, so even if you think she’s wrong, you feel for her.

What Kelly needs is a visit from the Bride Whisperer.

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - Footlight Parade

2012-02-07T21:38:00.000-08:00

I was first introduced to Busby Berkley when I was a kid. I was obsessed with THE WIZARD OF OZ, and the 50th anniversary edition VHS tape had a cut scene at the end of it featuring a dance for the Scarecrow choreographed by Berkley. The over-the-top number captured my imagination and I remembered Berkley ever since.

Now I've finally scene a real bonafide Busby Berkley choreographed musical -- FOOTLIGHT PARADE, starring James Cagney as a stage choreographer forced out of business by the advent of talking pictures who hits upon the idea of creating an assembly line of "dance units" to perform prologues before movies in theaters across the nation.

The first half of the film deals with Cagney's struggles to keep his new company afloat, culminating in a crucial trio of performances of three prologues that will make or break his career. These lavish, creative and -- yes -- over-the-top performances make up the last half of the film.

FOOTLIGHT PARADE moves along at a lightning pace. The editing is efficient, the story is light and the snappy dialogue is delivered so rapidly, I'm not sure how audiences caught all the racy jokes in 1933. I guess they had to come back for more.

An actor like Cagney is ideal for this kind of film. At first it seems counter-intuitive -- a tough guy in a dance movie. But soon it makes total sense. His no-nonsense, breakneck style of acting fits perfectly in the cruel world of show business, especially this hyper-romanticized version, and he's willing to do anything -- sing, dance, look cool, look like a fool -- whatever it takes.

The supporting cast is also great. We've got whip-smart Joan Blondell as Cagney's "girl Friday" and eventual love interest, Ruby Keeler as a secretary who lets her hair down to become a sexy song and dance girl, Dick Powell as a gigolo turned song and dance man, and Frank McHugh as Cagney's chief dance instructor, who is slowly being driven insane by the stress of his job.

I could mention any number of more background characters, because while the story is simple, there's a lot of plot. To the movie's credit, it doesn't let itself get bogged down in plot, and a lot of the machinations of the good guys and the bad guys happen so quickly we've been through three movies worth of trouble in an hour of screen time.

After that, the dance numbers start up, and boy are they something else. First there's a gang of chorus girls in lingerie signing and dancing their way through a wedding night at the Honeymoon Hotel, followed by a group of bathing beauties synchronizing their way through a trippy swim routine, and finally we get Cagney himself searching for his Shanghai Lil amid a brothel of soldiers, sailors, and opium smoking prostitutes.

This movie has it all -- it's sexy, it's funny, there are more shapely legs than you can count, and the dance numbers will blow your mind.

Sadie Says:

In reading Paul's review of FOOTLIGHT PARADE, I immediately found myself with an ear to ear grin. Why? Because he TOTALLY got it. It had all the right elements for the Paul Apel seal of approval. That's a good feeling for a chick recommending classic movies!

For those who are interested in more Busby Berkeley musicals, there are many to watch. Take a look at 42ND STREET and GOLD DIGGERS OF 1933.

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - Indiscreet

2012-02-07T18:53:00.000-08:00

I've been looking forward to seeing INDISCREET thanks to the film's two stars -- Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman. I've seen and loved them in many other films, both together and apart, so it's always fun to see a new one for the first time.

For the first hour or so, INDISCREET unfolds as a melodramatic love affair between Bergman, who plays an improbably single and famous middle-aged stage actress, and Grant, who plays a married economist for NATO. The two meet and fall in love in London, where Bergman lives, and soon Grant is traveling back and forth from his work in Paris to his "other woman" in London.

I have to admit -- despite the star power, this first half bored me a little bit. It didn't seem to be the comedy that it was advertised as. But, this is the rare film that really does kick into high gear for the last half and really doesn't get to the point until late in the running time. Stop reading if you don't want to know, but there's a twist. I won't say what it is, but it turns out Grant has a secret, and when that secret comes out, the whole movie clicks together. Seemingly worthless supporting characters jump to life, the screenplay starts to crackle, a fire ignites in Bergman's eyes, Grant starts to crack and the afore mentioned comedy comes out of hiding.

Aside from some bold Technicolor highlights and some nice London sights, the movie is visually bland. There is, however, one interestingly shot exception -- a sequence early on in which a split-screen phone call between Grant and Bergman is arranged specifically to create the illusion that they're lying in bed together. Their hands seem to touch, they look into each other's eyes, they spoon comfortably for a while -- all while staying on the right side of the Hays Code thanks to a strategically placed split screen. This is a good example of how creative filmmakers can create compositions that ring emotionally true even when they're literally false.

It was fun to see Bergman both in color and in her 40s -- she looked no less radiant than she did in her younger days, but it was a little unreal. It's strange how color should be the more "realistic" medium, in theory -- after all, we all see our own lives in color. Still, I'm so used to seeing Bergman in black and white, that her color image in this film seemed almost surreal and dreamlike.

The afore mentioned supporting cast, after having nothing to do for the first half of the film, come to life in the second half. Phyllis Calvert and Cecil Parker have some good lines as Bergman's incredulous sister and brother-in-law, and David Kossoff and Megs Jenkins have some memorable moments as Bergman's servants.

Speaking of servants, it's interesting to note a theme that permeates throughout most of the film: as private as a love affair is, it must be conducted publicly. There are constant intrusions involving telephone operators, elevator operators, the man at the front desk and fans asking for autographs. Bergman and Grant can't even enjoy a romantic stroll without the chauffeur following their every move. On one hand this is a series of intrusions brought upon the couple by their own place in society. On the other, their courtship and romance seems to need these constant third wheels in order to survive.

It's also worth mentioning that as flawed as the first half of the film is, it does nail some quiet truths about evolving relationships as Grant and Bergman first come together somewhat awkwardly, and then eventually enjoy full intimacy. In fact, perhaps Grant's insecurities in the last act of the film wouldn't be as affective without this build up. Maybe the film is winning me over more as I write this.

One quick nitpick -- this is no fault of the film itself, but the disc I got from Netflix left a lot to be desired. The film was presented in non-anamorphic widescreen and the print used for the transfer had a lot of wear and tear on it. On top of this, the audio was tinny and squawky. I assume there must be other superior additions of this disc out there, but if there aren't, then INDISCREET would be a great candidate for some kind of restoration -- the fact that it stars Bergman and Grant should be enough to make this happen. Both the Technicolor and the musical score would benefit greatly if someone who cared got their hands on the film.

Sadie Says:

INDISCREET was the second film to star Grant and Bergman, almost 12 years after Alfred Hitchcock's NOTORIOUS. The films are completely different for many many reasons, but was is quite apparent, is the the onscreen chemistry that these two had.

Like Paul, I was intrigued by the split screen shot, reminiscent of PILLOW TALK released a year later, but clearly got way more recognition. It's my favorite followed by the shot of Bergman against a full wall of paintings as Grant leaves her apartment for the first time. The colors are exquisite, as are the numerous gowns this fine femme rocks throughout the entire film.

INDISCREET is not a perfect film by any means, but one that I think gives both Grant and Bergman an avenue to rock out in their middle age. Carey Grant does an incredible job of playing Carey Grant, and I love Bergman's performance of a highly successful woman who struggles with being independent and intimidating to her male counterparts. I think the theme of the strong female lead is starting to reveal itself with each new film.

Paul, who do we talk to about restoration? Let's get on it!

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - My Man Godfrey

2012-02-07T15:25:00.000-08:00

You can tell MY MAN GODFREY is going to be awesome from the first few moments of the film. The art direction in the opening credits alone eclipses many other romantic comedies I’ve seen. Most of them are content to shoot the action like a sitcom, but this is 1936 when movies looked good.

We meet Godfrey (William Powell) early on in the junk yard he lives in, another triumph of art direction that looks like something normally reserved for the likes of a super hero movie. A couple of rich socialite sisters are participating in a scavenger hunt which requires them to acquire a “forgotten man” and Godfrey becomes their man.

The older sister (Gail Patrick) is stuck up and entitled and earns a push into a pile of ashes from Godfrey. The younger sister (Carole Lombard) is a little flighty but also funny and quirky and inspires Godfrey to go along with her, partially to spite Patrick, partially to fulfill his own curiosity about the whole situation, but also to see what Lombard is all about.

This leads to Lombard eventually offering Powell a job as her family’s butler. He cleans himself up overnight and it isn’t long before he’s knee deep trying to help out the dysfunctional family, including an out of touch matriarch (Alice Brady), a patriarch who is in debt (Eugene Pallette, a personal favorite of mine from THE ADVENTURES OF ROBIN HOOD) and a melodramatic mooch (Mischa Auer).

On top of all of this, Lombard develops a crush on Powell, and although she is pretty and vivacious, Powell does his best to avoid her advances out of a sense of propriety. Thanks to Powell’s quiet dignity amid the chaos, this otherwise strange reaction to her advances is totally believable. Later on, we also learn that Powell has a secret that brings this movie’s themes right in line with those of SULLIVAN’S TRAVELS.

GODFREY operates on a somewhat flimsy plot but everything else is totally solid – the performances, the sets, and the costumes are all top notch, the likes of which you rarely see in a comedy today. For some reason it seems like these days comedies aren’t considered worthy of good filmmaking, and that’s a shame. In some ways it’s not so much a miracle that the current film THE ARTIST has done so well in this day and age being silent and black and white, as much as it is a miracle that it is a comedy with some style and class.

Sadie says:

Several months ago, Paul and I went to the Hollywood Theater in Portland, OR to watch The Thin Man with our friends Kaite and Paterson. We discussed how awesome William Powell is in the famous Nick & Nora Charles series and how he would probably be a fantastic dinner guest should we decide to bring him back from his final resting place in Palm Springs, CA. What's not to like about William Powell? He's great with the zingers, making cocktails, and would definitely have tales to tell.

My Man Godfrey beautifully showcases Powell's ease in delivering dialogue, a skill that I believe served him well throughout his career. He's just so natural in times of seriousness and screwball comedy. What makes him look even better in My Man Godfrey, is the casting of such fine character actors who seamlessly illustrate family dysfunction at its best. I agree with Paul that the plot is a bit flimsy, but the cast carries the script the whole way.

In addition, it should be noted that William Powell and Carole Lombard were married and divorced prior to the making of this film. They remained good friends and if you look closely, you might still see some pretty fantastic chemistry between the two. See hilarious shower scene http://www.metacafe.com/watch/an-Plmf4nnbthbbYm/my_man_godfrey_1936_cold_shower/

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - Gregory's Girl

2012-02-06T18:38:00.000-08:00

GREGORY’S GIRL was right up my alley. This charming Scottish coming of age comedy from the 1980s follows the trials and tribulations of Gregory (John Gordon Sinclair), an awkward and offbeat but generally happy teenager who develops a crush when a girl replaces him on the soccer team. This is the fresh-faced Dee Hepburn as a tomboy who does not look like a tomboy, out-playing the boys on the field while stunning them with her looks.

The movie is not overly concerned with plot and takes the time to offer us several glimpses into the day to day life of the students and faculty of this small Scottish high school. We get to know the soccer coach (Jake D’Arcy) who is reluctant to let a girl onto the team, Gregory’s best friend (Robert Buchanan) who has even worse luck with girls than Gregory does, and Gregory’s home ec partner (William Greenlees) who is more interested in cooking and selling his pastries than scoring with chicks. There’s also the cute girl who seems to have an interest in Gregory (Clare Grogan) that Gregory can’t quite see, yet.

This film has a laidback, affable style to it that seemed somewhat familiar to me, so I was not surprised when I looked up the film’s writer/director and found out it was Bill Forsyth, who made the great LOCAL HERO, which also takes place in a sleepy Scottish village full of friendly characters.

All of the performers are very natural and engaging, especially Sinclair as Gregory. This is all the more effective because most of the cast is made up of young actors, many of them teenagers, and don’t come off as either too fake or too precious, as they might in a more contrived, less well observed film.

There are no major tragedies or triumphs in GREGORY’S GIRL and the movie will not have you on the edge of your seat, but it does cast a nice, nostalgic spell that just made me feel good. Part of that was the relief of no longer being in “that awkward phase,” but another part of it was the knowledge that a nice guy like Gregory will turn out all right and look back and remember all of his little adventures fondly one day.

Sadie says:

This flick had Paul Apel written all over it. Coming of age plot, the United Kingdom, and a snapshot of a time and place. It's a triple threat type of movie with amazing acting, awesome accents, and awkward adolescents.

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - Come September

2012-02-03T13:43:00.001-08:00

COME SEPTEMBER is a light hearted romantic comedy starring Rock Hudson as a wealthy industrialist who travels to Italy to visit his beautiful villa every year in September. As the movie opens, he arrives at his villa early to discover that his servant (Walter Slezak) has been running it as a hotel in his absence. Also in his absence, his long time local girlfriend (Gina Lollobrigida) has gotten engaged. Still, when he arrives, she can't resist, and leaves her fiance to join him for another vacation. Or does she?

Among the guests staying at the villa-turned-hotel is young and naive Sandra Dee and her girlfriends, who are being chased by a yellow jeep full of douche bags led by Bobby Darin. All right, I guess they're not total douche bags -- in any case, they camp out on the villa lawn hoping to hook up with the girls. Hudson and Lollobrigida find themselves becoming reluctant watch dogs and confidants of the younger set.

When I say COME SEPTEMBER is light hearted, I mean it -- there is not much going on here. Hudson tries to keep the kids from mating, Lollobrigida tries to decide between Hudson and her fiance, and Sandra Dee tries to attract Bobby Darin's attentions while remaining a respectable young lady. Nothing worth noting really happens to anyone during the course of the movie, so the characters and plot take a backseat.

What do we have left? The scenery. COME SEPTEMBER is beautifully shot in Cinemascope with vivid colors that jump off the screen, almost every scene full of breath taking Italian scenery. This makes an otherwise fluffy affair at least somewhat worth the watch as the visuals are anything but boring.

These visuals include the afore mentioned Gina Lollobrigida, a bonafide babe of the highest order. She has the standout performance as the only character who is really able to let loose, quickly bouncing from emotion to emotion in rapid fire, full volume Italian as she passionately pleas for Hudson's attentions. In a movie full of dud jokes, the best laughs come from Lollobrigida's physical performance.

Unfortunately the rest of the cast is a little boring -- Hudson doesn't have much of a character to work with (unlike his mischievous, oversexed bachelor in PILLOW TALK) and Sandra Dee and Bobby Darin don't fare much better. Darin does have a scene in which he performs the song "Multiplication," however, showcasing his stage presence which is far superior to his screen presence. Aside from Lollobrigida, Slezak is the only one who has some good stuff to work with, as at least his character is always up to some kind of scam.

Sadie says:

The behind the scenes story with this film, is that this was the movie where Bobby Darin and Sandra Dee fell in love. I mean, who wouldn't want to fall in love with the gorgeous Italian backdrop as your courting ground?

In addition, as an appreciator of vintage fashion, I have to say that Gina's wardrobe knocks it out of the park. The viewer can see that she's rocking some of the hottest Italian frocks of the time and using her bellisima body to show them off.

Rock Hudson and Gina Lollbrigida made another film called STRANGE BEDFELLOWS. If you can appreciate the ridiculous and magical nature of COME SEPTEMBER, you won't regret a viewing of STRANGE BEDFELLOWS. I don't know if there is a comparison to this genre of films these days. Paul?

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - Sullivan's Travels

2012-02-02T13:32:00.000-08:00

I've always wanted to see SULLIVAN'S TRAVELS and now thanks to Sadiefest, I have! I've been a theoretical Preston Sturges fan since I first saw PALM BEACH STORY, but for whatever reason, I've been lazy about exploring the rest of his filmography. What kind of a movie buff am I?

Anyway, SULLIVAN'S TRAVELS stars Joel McCrea (Horrorfest alum from THE MOST DANGEROUS GAME) as our title character, a socially conscious film director hell bent on adapting the important (but depressing) novel O BROTHER, WHERE ART THOU? Dissatisfied with his sheltered life and history in comedy films, McCrea hits on the idea of going undercover as a hobo to experience homeless life on the road. After these "real life" experiences, McCrea figures, he'll have the chops to make a "real" movie.

Early on in his adventures, McCrea runs into a down and out would-be starlet played by the beautiful Veronica Lake, who is on the verge of giving up on her dreams of a Hollywood career and heading back home in defeat. The two take a liking to each other and end up on the hobo trip together, falling in love along the way.

Aside from a little heavy handed moralizing at the end of the film after it takes a strong right turn into fairly serious territory, SULLIVAN'S TRAVELS feels refreshingly modern -- in many ways, so ahead of its time, it's ahead of half the stuff that's out right now! Most of this is thanks to writer/director Sturges' razor sharp sense of humor. He's a master of one-liners, set ups/punchline gags, elaborate comedy chase scenes and satire. It's rare you get all this in one flick. Sturges is following the rule of "writing what you know" as the McCrea character must be one who is close to his heart, and the central dilemma must have been something Sturges struggled with himself in Hollywood. Sturges gets a lot of mileage taking the piss out of studio execs while he tends to portray the downtrodden with a fair bit of dignity.

Veronica Lake steals almost every scene she is in, not just because of her looks, but also thanks to her dry and deadpan delivery. It works perfectly for the character, who clearly at one time was lighthearted, cute and funny, but who has slowly transformed over time into a somewhat pessimistic and sarcastic woman. It's fun to see how this cold (but funny) exterior falls away as she learns to like McCrea and loosen up around him. Because of this, the relationship and the way it develops is much more realistic than your average Hollywood fare -- it seems more specific and closely observed than more "epic" romances do.

In fact, the entire movie succeeds from its attention to detail. As an example, in a high speed chase, Sturges gets an unexpected joke out of a quick cut to a tight angle of the dashboard of a 13-year-old kids' hot rod to reveal the speedometer is drawn on with chalk. But, in more general terms, the way industry banter is thrown around without explanation, the way names of real celebrities are used, and the way minor characters like McCrea's servants (Robert Greig and Eric Blore) and a hapless cook (Charles R. Moore) are given little moments of truth, all add up to to make this a comic masterpiece.

Romancefest 3: Sadiefest - Adam's Rib

2012-02-01T22:38:00.000-08:00

Welcome to Romancefest 3, my yearly self imposed ritual of watching and writing about 1 romantic movie for every day of the month of February. This February it happens to be 29 days, so that's 29 movies.

The last couple years I watched a combination of movies from "best of" lists -- I finished up the AFI's "100 Years, 100 Passions" list last year so I wasn't sure where to start this year. I tried looking at the most popular "romance" films on IMDB, but it turns out IMDB users list roughly every movie ever made as a "romance" so that didn't help.

That was when the best idea ever struck me, and that was to turn to my friend Sadie, who is the biggest classic movie buff I know. If you ever want to watch the Elvis Presley classic BLUE HAWAII in the middle of the night, but you also want to know someone in some other state is also watching it at the same time, Sadie is the girl you want to call.

So, I asked Sadie to hand pick a list of classic romantically themed movies for me with the only 2 directives being that they had to be movies I've never seen and they couldn't be MAMMA MIA. She was more than happy to jump head first into the task at hand and before I knew it, I had my list. Then she was happy to revise the list. And revise it again. And then I was like, "Sadie, the list is good, stop revising it." And then she revised it again. Thing is, Sadie doesn't mess around when it comes to classic movies.

So without further delay, here is the first movie of my 29 days of 29 romantic films.

ADAM'S RIB

Here's another Katharine Hepburn / Spencer Tracy battle of the sexes. Last year I took a look at WOMAN OF THE YEAR, and this year it's ADAM'S RIB in which assistant DA Tracy attempts goes up against his wife, defense attorney Hepburn, in an attempt to prosecute a woman who has shot her cheating husband.

As far as Tracy is concerned, this is an open and shut case -- if you break the law, you get in trouble. Hepburn, on the other hand, is annoyed with the notion that she feels a jilted wife gets less sympathy from society than a jilted husband does. Her theory is, if a man shot his wife for cheating, he wouldn't be convicted because society views the cheating wife as deserving of punishment. Meanwhile, a cheating husband just gets a wink and a nod and a "boys will be boys" attitude, and any wife who would dare shoot him wouldn't stand a chance in front of the judge.

Now, this conceit is a little crazy, I think, and it's kind of a shame since the screenwriters ask us to believe that Hepburn's character, who seems otherwise intelligent, believes in it whole-heartedly. I agree with the broad strokes that society is sexist, and often biased towards men, and that there is definitely a double standard when it comes to men sleeping around and women sleeping around, among other things. But I wouldn't go so far as to say a man would get off for shooting his wife, just because he's a man, or that a woman should get off for any reason other than self defense.

So, I want to root for Hepburn's feminist ideals, but her argument is illogical. I guess maybe the screenwriters may have done this on purpose because their own sympathies might lie with Tracy, who believes in the letter of the law above any ideals involving gender equality. Or, this might just be a sloppy oversight since the argument at hand isn't really all that important to the plot, but it'd be nice if it was.

Tracy and Hepburn are great as always, which is no surprise, but for most of the middle part of the movie they're almost upstaged by the wide variety of supporting players. Judy Holliday is great as the jilted wife who takes the stand and does her best to say what she thinks Hepburn wants her to say. Tom Ewell has some funny moments as the cheating husband, who seems more indifferent and bored than outright mean. Jean Hagen is the third side of the live triangle as the "other woman" who participates in the court proceedings with enthusiasm and amusement.

David Wayne is also on hand as a musician neighbor to Tracy and Hepburn who has a crush on Hepburn and actually goes so far as to write her a song (actually a Cole Porter tune) and perform it in front of the couple, much to Tracy's chagrin. Wayne gets some good one liners and is especially funny in a climactic scene in which he reluctantly finds himself in the middle of an explosive confrontation between the stars.

One thing the movie is insightful about and does get right is the idea that a passionate, emotional argument, well spoken, can beat a logical, rational argument any time. Hepburn knows this going into the fight. Tracy learns this coming out of it. The movie is a little ahead of its time, I think, in its portrayal of a trial by media, as each day in court is breathlessly reported in the papers -- the more sensational, the better, culminating in Hepburn putting a circus strong woman on the stand (Hope Emerson, in a memorable bit) who proceeds to lift Tracy up into the rafters.

So begins Romancefest 3: Sadiefest.

Sadie Says:

I've officially made it to the big leagues! What an honor, Paul. Thanks for drafting me. I'm not going to apologize for being a perfectionist about this list, but will apologize for even suggesting that Mama Mia get in there. It's not a classic...yet. I should've known better. I do promise that this list may increase the likelihood of a misty eye, a strong desire to move to Europe, and probably a spontaneous dance party in the comfort of your own home. Adam's Rib is such a great choice to kick it off.

Fact: Katherine Hepburn was a tough cookie and successfully pushed George Cukor around during the filming of this movie. She would get up on his grill and politely tell him to point the camera at Judy Holliday as often as possible in their shared scenes. Hep believed her new gal pal should be considered for the film version of a little Broadway play called 'Born Yesterday,' a role Judy originated. However, the studio was not convinced her stage presence was right for the screen. As a result of Judy's performance in Adam's Rib, she was cast in the film version of Born Yesterday, nailed it (screw you studio head), and later won the Oscar for Best Actress. The thing about Katherine Hepburn is that she always seemed to be looking out for a sista, not hearing the word NO, and paving the way while wearing the coolest outfits. What a Woman!

Top Ten Movies of 2011

2012-01-08T20:32:00.000-08:00

Time for the top 10 of 2011! I found this year to be a more enjoyable year at the old movie theater than the previous one. This time last year I was depressed, feeling like no matter how much I watched I still wouldn't see anything that really blew my mind. It was a bad feeling. This year, I feel the other way around. I usually gravitate towards very personal stories, but this year I found many of the best films were bigger than life stories that address the ultimate question of life, the universe and everything (as Douglas Adams would say). The other trend this year, that seemed to stand out over other years, was the way Hollywood and movie-making in general seemed to celebrate itself.

Anyway, as usual, this list is in no particular order, except of course I have saved the best for last, and I'm sure there are plenty of movies I didn't see this year that deserve to be on this list, as well.

THE ARTIST

This was one of two movies this year that really paid homage to the art of filmmaking itself. Although it was a black and white, mostly silent film, it was a feel good crowd pleaser. It's just too bad most of the crowds it would please will probably stay away from it. Still, if you're a lover of classic cinema, I guarantee you will love this film. It is a melodrama with its share of intense low points, but overall it leaves the viewer feeling joyous, as if sitting through the movie is the cinematic equivalent of how a great church service must feel to a believer. Jean Dujardin is great in the title role as a silent film star who is slow to adapt to the changing times as sound films infiltrate Hollywood. Berenice Bejo is radiant, though she has a slightly less thankful role, as a rising starlet who embraces the world of sound cinema and feels moved to help Dujardin's character, who helped her rise to stardom in the first place. This is not just an homage to silent film, but a love letter to classic Hollywood cinema, and a cutting edge commentary on the medium by using the trappings of the medium itself, including a dream sequence in which mundane sound effects are used in a way that makes the real world seem other worldly and the silent world seem normal. This is a Beautiful Film.

THE GUARD

This movie is proof that you can take something that seems formulaic and tired -- a buddy cop, fish out of water story -- and make it worth while. Don Cheadle stars as an FBI agent sent to Ireland to investigate local crimes related to international drug trafficking, and Brendan Gleason plays the local Irish cop he's teamed up with. Gleason would steal the show as the racist small town cop if Cheadle's reactions to him weren't so priceless. Together the two actors use their chops to create an arthouse comedy funnier than any of the mainstream crap that hit multiplexes all year. Aside from their performances, this success is also due to the close observation of these unique characters. These aren't guys you can plug into any plot -- they're unique characters who seem real and three dimensional, and the plot is at their service. They are not at the service of the plot. So next time someone tells you it's okay a buddy comedy or fish out of water story sucks because that's all they are, go watch THE GUARD and see a movie can be more than its premise, as long as it promises to exploit that premise fully and not take the lazy road. A story is only cliched if the story tellers agree to make it cliched.

MIDNIGHT IN PARIS

I saw this movie early in 2011, so far a while I thought it might be my favorite. I guess it still might be. . . after all, lists like this are fairly arbitrary. Again, here we have a movie that, on the surface, seems mired in genre conventions -- it's a romantic comedy, that very genre that meets so much derision from so many. But guess what? It's an awesome romantic comedy, so there. Owen Wilson stars as a nice enough writer who is being shoe horned into a marriage with his bitchy enough fiancee (Rachel McAdams, great to see her as a bitch again after all these years of bullshit). The couple travels to Paris for family business opportunities, and Wilson's character experiences a phenomenon that I find very familiar but that is very seldom expressed in film -- he feels more romantic and optimistic than his cynical companions, but his cynical companions think he is the cynical one. Go figure -- persecuted for wanting the world to be a nice place. Hardly seems fair, does it? Well, luckily, writer/director Woody Allen is on hand to magically throw Wilson into Paris' romantic past, where he has a chance to meet literary and artistic heroes like the Fitzgeralds, Hemingway, Dali, Picasso, Eliot and Bunuel, among others, all played by an excellent supporting cast. The best line is Wilson's when he says, "I'm jealous and I'm trusting. It's cognitive dissonance." Right there, you've got the words of a realist who also just happens to be a romantic.

50/50

This movie exploits one of the easiest outs in writing while also avoiding all the pitfalls. As a creative writing major, I learned that many students thought writing about terminal illness earned them a reprieve from criticism. After all, who but a total dickhead could shit talk a story about death from cancer or AIDS? Me, apparently. They thought "importance" could outweigh "quality" and that cancer and other illnesses of its kind were so important that they didn't have to actually craft any skill. They were wrong, but 50/50 nicely sidesteps that problem by making the story personal and funny. Joseph Gordon-Levitt stars as a guy "too young" to be on the verge of death from cancer, and Seth Rogen stars as his buddy who tries to help him get through the struggle with some semblance of normality and humor, crucial elements lacking in most "survival" stories. This story never feels like it uses cancer as a device, because the details are so specific that you feel the filmmakers know what they're talking about (and they do). Instead, it makes cancer a three dimensional character, and the tears start flowing when Gordon-Levitt discovers a crucial book with crucial notes in it from Rogen. Roger Ebert always says he cries more when someone does something fundamentally good in a movie than when a movie is straight up sad. And this is one of those fundamentally good moments.

WAR HORSE

Spielberg's latest is so schmaltzy all you have to do is watch the trailer to decide whether or not you're going to love or hate it. Most of my friends took one look and decided it was a contrived attempt to extract tears from a cynical audience. They'd be right if Spielberg wasn't so good, and he still is, even to this day. That's one way of looking at it. The other way of looking at it is that I'm a total sucker. I guess that might be true. I don't think I am, but I loved WAR HORSE, so if that makes me a sucker, I guess I am. Apparently the main problem with this story is also its strength -- the fact that it follows a horse through the horrors of the first World War. The great thing about animals is you can project any emotion onto them that you want -- they're a blank slate. No matter what Joey the horse thought or felt or was even capable of thinking or feeling during his journey through the World War, I was able to project my own thoughs and feelings onto him and they were mostly of the "Jesus Christ, war looks terrible," variety. This may seem like a foregone conclusion, but I assume most people rarely think about the nuts and bolts of mechanized war from a ground floor view, mostly because I rarely do, and what better way to put that in perspective than to not only look at it from the point of view of a time when technology was moving out of (basically) the dark ages and into the 20th century, but also to look at it from an organic casualty of this technological change. Aside from all of this, WAR HORSE also stands as a throwback to classic Hollywood story telling with beautiful scenery and cinematography, and the movie is so beautiful shot in so many awesome English country sides, I don't know how a viewer could not fall in love with it, especially with that spectacular sunset at the end. This is a movie's movie.

MELANCHOLIA

Here's another movie that exploits a seemingly hackneyed premise while also not falling prey to it. MELANCHOLIA tells an end of the world story, set against the backdrop of a mysterious planet coming out of nowhere to crash into the Earth. There are some spectacular special effects, to be sure, especially in the first and last ten minutes, but the majority of the film is made up of what might happen during normal peoples' lives during this event that is normally reserved for epic science fiction movies starring presidents and war heroes. I've talked to some people who are mystified with this movie -- what could it possibly be about, they ask? The thing is, if this was packaged up like your latest Michael Bay or Roland Emmerich retard-fest, they'd never question it once. They'd go, "Oh. Planets crashing into each other. Makes sense." But, since writer/director Lars Von Trier dares to make an apocalyptic movie about normal people, everyone goes, "Huh? I don't get it." Seems like it should be the other way around. In any case, MELANCHOLIA is beautiful and awesome, both about the universe in its totality and the very personal interactions of a couple individuals, one played quite masterfully by Kirsten Dunst.

HUGO

This fantasy family film from Martin Scorsese at first seems like an anomaly until you realize it's Scorsese's love letter to cinema itself. It seems to have the magic of films like HARRY POTTER, but could just as easily take place in the real world. The tone is that of a fairy tale, but the content could be in history books. Scorsese makes impressive use of 3d as he explores the world of the title character (Asa Butterfield), an orphan who lives in the walls, catwalks and hidden stairways of a Paris train station at the turn of the century. Without giving too much away, it turns out a cranky toy merchant (Ben Kingsley) is more than he seems, and Hugo unlocks a the mystery of the very birth of cinema. This is another flick that I think probably suffered at the box office due to its smarts -- not that it takes a genius to understand this movie, but more that it just happens to be about 1% more challenging and unique and well made than your average family film full of farts and insults. Sadly many audiences turn their brains off when faced with something that tries anything really human or insightful. Ironically these are the same audiences that feel they're the human ones and its filmmakers like Scorsese who are jaded and cynical. They're totally wrong.

CAVE OF FORGOTTEN DREAMS

Filmmaker Werner Herzog has a knack for making films that seem to be about the entirety of the universe while only really being about a very small part of the whole. This one's a documentary about a cave in France, discovered to house some of the oldest drawings and paintings known to man, and so well preserved that there are still foot prints in the sand from people who ran through there 20,000 years ago. Examining the cave walls, talking to the experts who explore it, and ruminating on the meaning of it all, a viewer can't help but feel both personally connected to these ancient wall scratches and in awe of their seemingly universal, timeless qualities. This feeling is counter intuitive but constantly comes up when I see great movies, read great books, see great paintings -- whatever the case may be -- the more specific it is, the more universal it becomes, and little I have seen has reached further into the dark recesses of the eternal, sprawling questions, "Why are we here?" and "Where did we come from?" than these paintings in this one cave.

DRIVE

This neo-noir about a Hollywood stunt driver turned wheel-man for hire (Ryan Gosling) is a nearly perfect example of both style and substance working together at the same time. Even without some of the filmmakers' more stylistic flair of editing, music choice, and particular way of visual story telling, I think this movie would still work as a good genre piece -- a solid suspense/action picture. With all this style, though, it goes to the next level and becomes wholly unique -- something we've never seen before and will likely never see again. Gosling's stoic title character gets personally involved in what initially begins as a normal business venture and ends up in over his head with the local mob. Well, I guess "in over his head" is not the way to put it -- I guess it's the mob who's in over their heads. Too bad for them. This flick is just cool. That's all there is to it. It doesn't wish it was cool -- it's not uncool while others insist it is. It is actually the real thing.

THE TREE OF LIFE

This was my favorite film of the year. Terrence Malick's meditation on the meaning of the entire universe, as compared and contrasted with the very specific experiences of one boy's ougchildhood in 1950s Texas, is the kind of story that cinema was invented for. You simply could not tell this story in the same transcendental way on the page of a novel or the canvas of a painting or the sounds of a symphony as you can when you marry all of these forms together with the magic of cinematic editing. As it comes together on the screen before an audience, THE TREE OF LIFE unfolds almost as a real time peek into Malick's own thought process -- a visual representation of what it feels like for the mind to go through memories, connect sensations to sounds and images, lead one thing to another, seamlessly to the thinker and possibly not so seamlessly to the observer. It's the kind of visual representation Parker tried to make with PINK FLOYD - THE WALL or Kubrick wanted with 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY. They both succeeded to one degree or another, but TREE OF LIFE does not have the added crutch of 2001's sci-fi suspense story or THE WALL's rock music. Instead, it has the one thing they both missed out on -- Malick's contribution is the totally personal aspect of the whole thing. This isn't just the story of the entirety of space and time. It is also the story of a specific family. That's called perspective. Some say the movie is too devout to the idea of a God making sense of everything. Other say the movie leaves this up to interpretation. Brad Pitt stars as a father figure who is both as definitive and powerful as God and as weak and undecided as any human. That tells me something about Malick's artistic intentions, but the beauty of the movie is that it is alive and moving and can't be pinned down to one thing or another. I've seen this movie a couple times, and when I watch it again one day, it will be just as rewarding as if it was the first time I ever saw it.

As usual, I had many runners up. Here are some of them, again, in no particular order:

YOUNG ADULT

Further proof that Diablo Cody is a good writer and Charlize Theron is a good actress. Also a heart breaking and awesome supporting performance by comedian Patton Oswalt.

MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE -- GHOST PROTOCOL

Director Brad Bird continues his flawless film track record with his awesome action flick.

THE DESCENDANTS

Great performance from Clooney.

THE MUPPETS

The most Muppet-like movie since the early 80s.

J. EDGAR

Great performance from DiCaprio.

MARGIN CALL

I'm a dummy, and even I understand the financial crisis as it unfolded in this almost-true suspense story.

MONEYBALL

Great message in this film -- the facts outweigh tradition, ritual, expertise -- as long as you look at objective reality, you will win over hunches.

COLD WEATHER

I loved this film for the same reason I first avoided it -- it's a local Portland production. At first I was worried locals only liked it because it was local -- once I saw it, I realized it was good on its own terms. Check it out for a nice indie surprise.

CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE FIRST AVENGER

One of two great Marvel flicks this year, this one a throwback to the more innocent adventure films of a bygone era.

THOR

The other great Marvel flick of the year, I loved it for the atypically bittersweet ending.

THE FUTURE

Not exactly the movie I was expecting from writer/director Miranda July, but it has haunted my and stuck by me all year.

BRIDESMAIDS

Stop saying women aren't funny, it's a stupid thing to say.

SOURCE CODE

Would have been a good TWILIGHT ZONE episode.

HORRIBLE BOSSES

This one has a character named Motherfucker Jones. Beat that.

MEEK'S CUTOFF

Watching this flick will make you understand more what the pioneers went through than twenty years of 4th grade history combined.

RED STATE

Something new from Kevin Smith -- not widely seen, but should have been.

PEARL JAM TWENTY

Sometimes you need someone else to tell you about your own history and in this case I needed Cameron Crowe. You don't realize how much PEARL JAM was a part of your life until you've seen TWENTY.

BELLFLOWER

These guys will be famous any second. You heard it here, first.

THE IDES OF MARCH

Every performance in this flick is great, and they're all tied together by Ryan Gosling -- he gets at least one powerhouse scene with each master and holds his own -- Clooney, Hoffman, Giamatti. . . this is like Gosling's acting graduate thesis.

LIFE, ABOVE ALL

Great to see a drama anyone can identify it with a completely unique perspective -- this time, we see the story through the eyes of an adolescent African girl.

MARTHA MARCY MAY MARLENE

This movie exists somewhere in the cross section of reality, memory and fantasy of the lead character, the victim of a cult played fearlessly by newcomer Elizabeth Olsen.

And of course, the worst film of the year, this time a tie between:

A LITTLE HELP

Successfully makes super likable Jenna Fischer into an unlikable character, complete with an inexplicable shot of an empty couch that holds for several seconds as if no one involved had ever seen a movie before.

HOBO WITH A SHOTGUN

I realize this is "supposed" to harken back to shitty exploitation movies of years past, but did it have to be so ugly and insulting? No. Take a page from Tarantino and Rodriguez and make a good movie, guys.

Horrorfest 2011: The Changeling

2011-10-31T19:24:00.000-07:00

THE CHANGELING was a nice spooky way to close out Horrorfest 2011. What starts out as a fairly slow, moody flick quickly ramps up into a compelling mystery as a composer played by George C. Scott investigates some strange goings-on in his newly rented mansion. Scott has moved across the country to Seattle after he lost his wife and daughter in a tragic car accident, but before he can settle into his cavernous new digs, he has to do some ghost busting.

First we get the usual stuff like faucets turning themselves on and loud banging noises coming from somewhere deep within the house. Later, Scott discovers an ominous blocked off staircase to an abandoned attic room furnished for a little kid right down to a pint sized wheel chair. How come old timey wheel chairs are so creepy? It's not long before Scott is seeing visions of murder and his friends suggest he bring in a local medium to conduct a seance.

Scott also investigates the history of the house and starts to piece together what seems to be a murder cover up among a wealthy, well-respected family. The well respected Senator (Melvyn Douglas) might hold the key to the mystery, so Scott goes head to head with him in an electrifying scene.

The movie is shot interestingly, mostly in wide angles, so the house seems to travel around Scott as he explores it, instead of Scott traveling around the house. This lends itself well to the story, which is basically about a ghost desperately trying to lead Scott from clue to clue to help put himself to rest. There are also several scenes that use deep focus to great effect as characters are seen in the foreground as well as glimpsed through portals in the background, whether it's a mirror, a hole in the ground, or a window. This adds phsical depth and layers to scenes in which characters are figuratively (and sometimes literally) digging for answers.

The movie probably wouldn't work half as well as it does without Scott as the lead. Always a great acting presence, Scott is no different here, and it is interesting to see a main character in a haunted house movie who won't take any shit from the haunted house. Scott's curiosity is challenged at first, and then he intuits that the ghost is asking him to help solve a mystery, which he does. But then, as the house continues to shake with ghostly stirrings, Scott loses his patience, gets fed up, and actually yells at it, "What do you want? I've done what you asked! What else can I do?" This is a lot more engaging than characters in similar haunted house movies who simultaneously want to get the hell out while inexplicably lingering around. This also eliminates the annoying moments in which characters either scoff at obviously supernatural occurrences or are disproportionately frightened by seemingly explainable goings on.

Thus ends Horrorfest 2011 and my mission to watch 31 horror movies I've never seen before in 31 days, and write about each of them. I actually watched more than 31 horror movies this month, but I can't count the ones I've already seen and/or didn't write about, can I? No, that's against the rules.

Time for some stats:

I watched 14 flicks from the USA. Japan came in second with 5 films and Germany and Canada tied for 3rd with 3 each. Spain and the UK tie for 4th with 2 each, and I watched 1 film each from Czechoslovakia, Sweden, Italy, Mexico and South Korea. You may notice this adds up to more than 31 -- that's thanks to a couple co-productions.

I watched 6 movies from the 60s. The 80s, 40s and 70s were tied for 2nd with 4 movies each. The 30s and 20s each had 3 movies, the 2000s, 90s and 50s each had 2 movies and the current decade had 1.

4 of the movies I watched were silent and the remainder were talkies. 17 were in black and white, 12 were in color, and 2 were primarily black and white with color segments.

My least favorite film of the month was WHO CAN KILL A CHILD? It was the only one that really had no redeeming qualities.

Most of the rest ranged from kinda okay to absolutely great. It would be difficult for me to decide which one was my favorite, so I'll give you my top 5 in the order watched:

THE UNKNOWN

THE MOST DANGEROUS GAME

SANTA SANGRE

THE OLD DARK HOUSE

THE BODY SNATCHER

Horrorfest 2011: I Saw the Devil

2011-10-29T18:11:00.001-07:00

I SAW THE DEVIL is a 2010 Korean film about a secret agent (Lee Byung-hun) whose pregnant wife (Oh San-ha) is murdered by a serial killer (Choi Min-sik). The secret agent takes a couple weeks off work and sets out to find the killer. At first we think the secret agent has just gone vigilante, but after he captures the killer and lets him go, only to hunt him again, we realize things are a little more complicated.

The secret agent wants revenge, but he also wants to torture the killer. Using GPS tracking technology, the secret agent is never far behind the killer, and shows up just in time to stop the killer from striking again, a couple of times. A couple of other times he doesn't show up quite on time. Each time, after a severe maiming and beating, he lets the killer go, only to pursue him some more.

This premise is both the strength of the film and the drawback. On one hand, the idea of this willful game of cat and mouse in the name of revenge is interesting. This is more than just a guy torturing another guy in an isolated location. It becomes a sort of hunting game. On the other hand, it stretches the audience's suspension of disbelief pretty thin. There are so many opportunities for disaster in this plan, including collateral damage, that it becomes hard to believe that the revenge fueled secret agent would take the risks he takes just to torture the killer.

Because of the collateral damage, for the first half of the movie I was thinking the secret agent isn't much better than the killer he's hunting. Yes, the killer is insane and evil and must be stopped, but the secret agent is presumably sane and has some kind of morals while also allowing the killer to be out on the loose, thus putting other people (just like his late wife) in danger. To the movie's credit, about halfway through, some characters finally start giving this idea some lip service -- the secret agent is turning into a monster, etc.

That would be fine except that the movie doesn't allow much room for things to escalate. It starts off so brutally and violently, both on the part of the killer and on the part of the secret agent, that we don't realize we're supposed to think the secret agent is getting out of control until other characters tell us. To us, he just seems ruthless from the get go, as he ruthlessly attacks suspects who aren't even the killer he's looking for.

The movie is beautifully shot and has some good performances but it is too long and has an overblown musical score that gets in the way of what could have been some more subtle emotional moments. There isn't much that is subtle about this movie, thanks to the over the top violence and gore, so cutting back on the orchestral score might have been a step in the right direction. When stuff on the screen is already extreme, the audience doesn't need to be pounded over the head by the composer.

Early in the film I started to wonder, what's a beautifully shot movie when the subjects being filmed are ugly? What's the point? In cases like these, there damn well better be some kind of message, and I'm not convinced there is one here. Revenge movies are tricky -- you want to identify with the guy getting revenge for the satisfaction, but if the revenge is too brutal, you don't want to identify anymore. On the other hand, if the villain is awful enough, and the filmmakers go out of their way to show you how awful he is, as they do here, then this might help make it easier to stomach the brutal revenge scenes later on.

What this means, though, is that now we, as an audience, have to sit through unpleasantly long, drawn out, meticulously detailed scenes of violence between a sick serial killer and his innocent victims. A little of this would have gone a long way, and you begin to wonder what the point of lingering so much is -- are we supposed to enjoy this first, then enjoy the revenge even more, later? Or would the type of person who enjoys the murder and rape scenes for the visceral thrill even care about the difference in motives between the killer and the secret agent?

In any case, with the inflated running time, I kept thinking, moral ambiguity aside, we could have shaved some time off this movie by not indulging every little tiny moment of violence so much. But then I began to wonder, without all this magnified violence and gore, what would be the point of the movie? I mean, in a sense, isn't the movie about the violence and gore? Taking that stuff out would be like taking the sex scenes out of a porn flick.

So, I don't know. I SAW THE DEVIL was okay, but I think there was a much better movie buried within it. I think the misguided attempts to shock and titillate the audience with ultra violence actually got in the way of this movie being as good as it could have been. When I watch a movie, I want to be in the moment, not thinking, "Why am I watching this?"

Horrorfest 2011: Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978)

2011-10-28T19:27:00.000-07:00

I took a look at the original INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS from the 1950s for Horrorfest 2009, so now it's time for the 1978 version of the same name. This remake is well regarded as a good film in its own right, and from what I can tell some viewers believe it is superior to the original. I still prefer the original, but this one was definitely a good flick.

Donald Sutherland stars as a San Francisco health inspector whose co-worker (Brooke Adams) becomes convinced that her live-in boyfriend (Art Hindle) is some kind of impostor. At first Sutherland recommends Adams consult his psychologist friend (Leonard Nimoy!) who is also a best selling author. But soon, Sutherland's buddy (Jeff Goldblum) discovers a weird body that seems to be from another world, and things start to come together. As crazy as it seems, our heroes come to the conclusion that humans are being replaced with clones from outer space.

As more and more of the city becomes possessed, our group of heroes is forced to go on the run, only there isn't really anywhere to run that isn't already taken over by the bad guys.

Although both films are about paranoia and loss of identity, I think the original INVASION did a better job of setting an overall paranoid tone for the movie. The isolated small town atmosphere made a more frightening counter point to the horror than San Francisco does in this film. In the original, the characters seems insulated enough that it was additionally horrific to them that anything bad could be going on at all in their seemingly perfect world. In this one, the characters seem world weary enough that we lose a little bit of that innocence and the invasion becomes more of a confirmation as if to say, "See, the conspiracy kooks were right all along."

On the other hand, some of the updates are welcome. The movie goes into more detail showing where the pods came from, how the grow, and how they infect people. It makes use of more modern fads like self-help and health spas. It was a nice surprise to have Brooke Adams walking around naked in the finale. Sutherland, Adams and Goldblum all turn in good performances and Nimoy is particularly well cast as a character who starts off as an arrogant blowhard and ends as an outright villain. And, there's a great ending.

Anyway, next time someone starts bitching and moaning about how all remakes suck, point out INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS was good. It doesn't matter if a movie is a remake, a sequel, or based on something that came before. If it's good, it's good, and if it sucks, it sucks. And this one's good.

Horrorfest 2011: Eraserhead

2011-10-28T19:03:00.000-07:00

Growing up as a movie nerd, of course I heard of ERASERHEAD and its dark brand of weirdness many times. The famous black and white shot of Jack Nance as Henry Spencer with his wild tower of hair has become iconic and writer/director David Lynch has become synonymous with cult films. Now, I've finally seen it first hand.

I wasn't quite sure what to expect, partially based on ERASERHEAD's widely known and notorious weirdness, but also based on my experiences with the David Lynch films I have seen. He has made films I honestly enjoyed like THE STRAIGHT STORY and ELEPHANT MAN, films I like in spite of the fact that they're a giant mess, like DUNE, and films I wanted to like but just didn't vibe with like LOST HIGHWAY.

Now that I've seen it, I'm still not sure what to think. ERASERHEAD is just as weird as they say. The movie doesn't go to very far lengths to explain itself, but goes a long way to set a creepy, foreboding tone using stark black and white photography and a lot of disturbing white noise on the soundtrack.

ERASERHEAD seems to take place in some kind of post apocalyptic world -- there doesn't seem to be many people around and everyone seems to live in abandoned buildings in urban industrial areas. The white noise droning in the background makes it clear industry still survives and that this urban area is not pleasant to live in. Wandering this wasteland is the afore mentioned Jack Nance as the wild haired Henry Spencer, an unassuming single man living in a tiny rathole of an apartment.

At the outset of the film, Nance is invited to his ex-girlfriend's (Charlotte Stewart) house to have dinner with her parents (Jeanne Bates and Allen Joseph). The gathering is suitably awkward and weird, and ends with Nance finding out that he has apparently impregnated his ex and now must marry her.

"They're still not sure it is a baby," Nance's future wife says, ominously.

The couple moves in together to raise the baby, and sure enough, we see why there was some confusion on the doctors' part. The baby doesn't look human -- it is nothing more than a monstrous, alien head poking out of a sack of bandages, constantly wailing, eventually breaking out into diseased boils. Nance's wife can't take it and bails early on. Nance can't take it either, but he won't leave the kid, so instead he descends into his fantasies, flights of madness, dreams and nightmares in an effort to escape.

That literal description of what little plot the film has doesn't really do it justice. Like most weird movies, this one must be seen to be believed. The plot tells us very little about the movie's intended "meaning" -- that's all conveyed in mood and tone, both of which the movie has plenty, laid on nice and thick. Most of the movie is a succession of striking visuals, including a grotesque woman singing on a stage while alien like creatures reminiscent of sperm drop from the ceiling on her and a sequence in which parts of Nance himself are recycled into pencil erasers, hence the name of the movie.

A movie like this, heavy on imagery and light on exposition, leads viewers to think there must be some deeper underlying meaning. These images must be symbols, right? I'm not 100% convinced there's much here beyond what's literally shown in the film, but it is definitely a uniquely stunning piece of work. My own guess is that the whole movie is just a nightmare manifestation of some common deep rooted fears among young, single males -- the fear of being alone, the fear of women, the fear of fatherhood, the fear of losing your freedom, the fear of death. Basically, the entirety of human experience.

One thing that saves this film from getting too full of itself is the central performance by Jack Nance. He plays Henry Spencer as bemused, confused, naive, shy, and often times nonplussed by the weird things going on around him. Most of his line readings have an open tone to them, giving us a character who is not cynical or self conscious, which stands as a stark contrast to the feelings a viewer might get about the film itself. This also helps provide a little bit of dark humor to keep the movie from dropping entirely into the realms of despair. Still, it gets pretty damn close.

Horrorfest 2011: Cure

2011-10-28T01:41:00.000-07:00

Time for another detective story. CURE is a Japanese film starring Koji Yakusho as a detective investigating a series of strangely similar murders. Victims are turning up with "X" marks slashed into their necks. This at first seems like the mark of a serial killer, but each victim seems to have been killed by a different murderer, usually someone close to them who is easily caught and readily admits the crime while offering little or no motive.

Meanwhile, a mysterious transient (Masato Hagiwara) wanders into and out of innocent bystanders' lives, confusing them with his endless questions repetitive questions. He seems to be suffering from extreme amnesia, and eventually seems to be connected to this string of murders.

CURE builds a lot of suspense and has a definite overwhelming sense of dread throughout, exploiting disturbing sound design to put the viewer on edge. The film moves along at a slow, deliberate pace with lots of long takes and long shots, using pacing and framing to keep the viewer somewhat removed from the action on screen.

This distance between the viewer and the movie is similar to the distance between Yakusho's detective and the other characters in the movie. Yakusho plays a workaholic who attempts to hide his feelings both at work and at home where he takes care of his wife (Anna Nakagawa) who seems to be slowly and quietly losing her mind. As Yakusho gets deeper into his investigation and becomes more involved with the mysterious amnesiac, we get the feeling his mind is starting to go, too. He struggles not only with his sanity, but with his attempts to repress his normal, human feelings.

One interesting aspect of the film is that the central villain is more annoying and frustrating than he is evil and frightening. As played by Masato Hagiwara, the villain here is not suave and charming like Hannibal Lecter or cold and brutal like various slasher monsters. Instead, he seems to enjoy passive aggressively taunting his victims and the investigators as a petulant child might. This is both a unique approach to a villain for a movie and, I suspect, a fairly realistic one -- rather than building up the criminal as some kind of misunderstood genius or otherwise romantic figure, he's revealed to be little more than an anti-social weirdo you wouldn't really want to hang around.

The film has a frustratingly ambiguous ending, and there are several theories floating around about what it might mean, but like the last episode of the SOPRANOS I think all that stuff is secondary to the mood and tension the film creates while it's rolling.

Horrorfest 2011: Angel Heart

2011-10-26T18:07:00.000-07:00

ANGEL HEART starts like detective noir and ends like a horror movie and has some comedy in the middle. This is my kind of movie.

Mickey Rourke stars as Harry Angel, a private eye in 1955 New York who is summoned to a Harlem church where some form of devil worship seems to be going down and hired by a creepy dude played by Robert DeNiro to find a missing person. DeNiro has long hair, a Satanic beard, fingernails filed into points, and seems to sit on a throne as he fills Rourke in on his mission, ominously noting, "I feel like I've met you before." So, early on, we get a feeling something supernatural is going on here.

The supernatural overtones continue as Rourke's investigation takes him to New Orleans where he finds himself associating with a fortune teller (Charlotte Rampling), a voodoo priestess (Lisa Bonet) and an aging blues man (actual aging blues man, Brownie McGhee). As often happens during Horrorfest, the bodies start to pile up. The investigation seems to get more confusing the deeper it goes and Rourke starts to fall apart, both mentally and physically, as he gets closer to the truth of this mystery.

I basically guessed the twist ending early on, though didn't exactly nail it, but I think that's a result of two decades of similar movies coming out after this one. I'm pretty sure if I saw this as an adult in 1987 the solution to the mystery would have taken me completely by surprise.

British filmmaker Alan Parker wrote and directed this film, and his trademark visual flair is fully present. The whole movie is beautiful to look at, particularly an early scene in which Mickey Rourke interviews a couple on the beach on a cloudy day shot almost entirely in long shots. Some say Parker's somewhat detached approach to filmmaking leaves his movies lacking a little humanity, and I can see where they're coming from sometimes (see ANGELA'S ASHES) while I totally disagree at others (see PINK FLOYD - THE WALL, one of my favorites). Here, Parker goes way out of his way to make sure the film looks beautiful, is period accurate, and he definitely nails the classic style of the noir and horror genres. Still, his critics would be correct in pointing out the character development and motivation is a little lacking here.

The one thing that rescues the movie from being totally emotionally cold is the performances. Mickey Rourke, as usually, pours his entire self into this role, and can deftly handle drama, horror and comedy with little ego displayed on screen. He's totally content to let it all hang out, and that's the kind of actor you need for a flick like this. Even when the screenplay asks him to ascend to ridiculous heights of lunacy in the final act, he doesn't back down and rises to the challenge.

DeNiro's performance is the opposite, but just as effective. He's so minimalistic, it's almost infuriating, but that's good. It's interesting to see him in this kind of more fantasy based role, and I'd like to see him as some kind of super villain again before his career is over.

Bonet is compelling as the young voodoo priestess, and of course ANGEL HEART is famous for her graphic sex scene. This caused some controversy with fans used to seeing her on the decidely G-rated COSBY SHOW, and that controversy is probably partially why she never had much of a career after this, which is a shame, because she definitely has a presence here.

Watching this film, I couldn't believe I could go so long without seeing a movie with so many elements I love -- noir, Mickey Rourke, Alan Parker. On one hand, it's crazy that this movie has been out since 1987 and I'm just now getting around to watching it. On the other, it's great that I can watch so many movies so often and still find totally awesome stuff I've never seen.

Horrorfest 2011: The Ghost Breakers

2011-10-26T17:42:00.001-07:00

It's funny, as famous as Bob Hope is, I never actually saw one of his movies until now.

THE GHOST BREAKERS is a charming little comedy set against the backdrop of a haunted house. Bob Hope stars as the star of a gossip radio show who goes on the lam when he runs afoul of some gangsters and ends up accidentally stowing away aboard a ship bound for Cuba in a trunk belonging to Paulette Godard, who has recently inherited a castle and is on her way to check it out.

Godard's plagued with warnings of how dangerous and haunted the castle is, and receives ominous threats in the form of voodoo trinkets, but with the help of Hope, she soldiers on to check out her new property.

Hope takes it upon himself to check out the supposedly haunted castle -- mostly to impress Godard, but also because he simply refuses to buy the local legends. He brings along his reluctant servant, played by Willie Best, to find out if the ghosts are real or an elaborate scam to keep Godard away from the castle.

The plot is pretty simple and most of the movie deals with the mishaps that lead to Hope making it onto the boat to Cuba. It's about an hour before our heroes actually get to the haunted castle, so most of the ghost hijinks work as the finale of the movie as opposed to the bulk of it. Aside from ghosts, there are also a couple supposed zombies -- the caretaker of the castle (Virginia Brissac) and her son (hey, it's Noble Johnson again!).

Anthony Quinn is on hand in a mysterious dual role, along with Richard Carlson as a little bit of romantic competition for Hope and Paul Lukas as a solicitor who tries to dissuade Godard from taking over the haunted property.

For a fairly light hearted comedy, THE GHOST BREAKERS has some great, creepy atmosphere. While it is never outright scary, the castle and its surroundings are beautifully built and lit sets, and even scenes in the hotel at the beginning of the film and on the decks of the ship to Cuba are shot as if this is a big budget special effects picture instead of a humble comedy. I also like that the plot has Hope investigating the hauntings as a skeptic who dismisses the existence of ghosts out of hand.

The thing I liked most about this movie is also the thing that challenged me most, and that is the performance of African American actor Willie Best as Hope's cowardly servant. Best gets all the choicest lines and has great comic timing, both verbally and physically. He makes the perfect sidekick for Hope and the two are an engaging team. He's the highlight of the flick. Unfortunately, he's in one of those roles that's a little cringe inducing these days -- a bumbling black servant to a superior white guy. If you have even a teeny little bit of social conscience, you'll probably find yourself wondering if you're "allowed" to laugh at this material or not.

I finally settled on not being too uptight. The fact of the matter is, Best is hilarious. He basically steals the movie. Regardless of the historical context or the broader meaning of his role, the way it was written and conceived, and what that might say about society at large, he's still funny. It sucks that certain truths about racism made me have to think twice about an otherwise brilliant performance, especially a comedic one, especially when so few black actors had a chance to shine in this period.

Best got into this movie both because of and in spite of racism, but I'll be damned if I'm not going to give his performance its due.

Horrorfest 2011: Who Can Kill a Child?

2011-10-21T15:55:00.000-07:00

WHO CAN KILL A CHILD? sucks. It is officially the first shitty movie of Horrorfest 2011. It was bound to happen. I’ve enjoyed some more than others, but all had redeeming qualities until now. Even HOUSE! How this movie came to be so well regarded among movie buffs is beyond me. Maybe the people who claim to like it have never actually seen it? I guess that’s a possibility.

The premise sounds okay – it’s about a British couple (Lewis Fiander and Prunella Ronsome) on vacation in Spain. They travel to an isolated island and find it eerily devoid of any adults, but crawling with creepy kids who seem to watch their every move. Of course, it turns out the kids have been killing the adults, and the vacationing couple becomes the next potential victims.

Director Narciso Ibanez Serrador makes a false step that’s hard to recover from right out of the gate, starting off with a montage of documentary footage. As a narrator intones how the wars of adults take their worst toll on the innocent children who are caught in the crossfire, we see disturbing and graphic footage of Auschwitz, the Korean War, and other atrocities. The images specifically focus on the plight of the children involved, so we get at least 5 minutes of footage of emaciated kids, both living and dead, intercut with freeze frames so the credits can roll over the sound of children laughing and playing. That’s irony, folks.

Is this approach heavy handed? Yes. Is it also totally inappropriate to use this sensitive footage for the purposes of a shitty exploitation movie? Yes. These are images of real people with real lives that really had unimaginably terrible things happen to them, right in the middle of their complete misery. The last thing they need is the added insult and indignity of having their misery cheaply exploited.

So, after this immediate derailment, the movie goes on to show us our lead couple on holiday. Here we get endless shots of crowd celebrations as the couple looks on. They try to get a hotel, they buy film for their camera, they watch fireworks. It’s boring as hell, the couple has nothing interesting to say, they don’t seem to have any chemistry, and they don’t seem to be particularly pleasant people. The woman is so pregnant that she’s clearly showing, and her husband ruminates right in front of her about whether or not it’s wise to bring a child into this world. Good one, asshole.

The couple is also exceedingly stupid. This must just be a result of the filmmakers giving them stupid shit to say. The wife has never heard of Federico Fellini, she doesn’t know how to say “Thank you” in Spanish (it’s “gracias,” by the way) and she doesn’t know what a piñata is. When a local clearly motions for her to move from the back of a boat to the front of the boat, she shrugs happily and says, “Sorry, I don’t understand!” and just sits there. All this wouldn’t be so bad except it’s clear that the audience is not supposed to think these people are stupid. The filmmakers don’t even realize how dumb they’ve made their central characters.

This stupidity extends to their interactions with the killer kids on the deserted island, which they finally get to about 45 minutes into the movie. Under normal circumstances his wouldn’t be so bad (see JAWS and KING KONG) except that in this movie 45 minutes seems like 4 hours. Here, our heroes are about as stupid as your average horror victim – they back themselves into corners, they refuse to run away when it makes sense to run away, they give the murderers the benefit of the doubt – all the stuff teenagers usually do in an effort to help Freddy and Jason kill them.

To its further disservice, the movie also attempts to have a couple ideas and fails miserably. The first thought the movie has is, “With all the innocent kids suffering in the world, what if they suddenly fought back?” I guess that’s the excuse for the documentary footage at the beginning of the movie – it’s all at the service of making this shallow, pseudo-philosophical point. Unfortunately it’s totally disingenuous because none of the events in the movie are in any way tied to any of the events in the gruesome opening.

The only possible connection would be if the children have some kind of collective unconscious they’re acting on or if God has reached down and directed them to murder adults in an act of vengeance for their kind. Even that would be ridiculous, however, since all adults used to be children and all children eventually become adults. What about the fact that no kid would make it past the first few days of life without adults keeping them alive? Huh? Riddle me that one, Narciso Ibanez Serrador!

The other half baked “idea” this movie has is that the murderous children have a built in defense mechanism since any adult in their right mind would be averse to hurting them. Once again, this is ridiculous, since we’re treated to footage at the beginning of the movie of innocent children suffering at the hands of adults, directly refuting the premise. On top of that, the innocence of children kind of goes out the window when you witness one killing someone in cold blood right in front of you. At that point, for most rational people, the survival instinct would kick in and it would quickly become a case of “him or me.”

Let’s face it, Narciso Ibanez Serrador – you included that documentary footage for nothing more than cheap shock value. The footage was free, doesn’t require any special effects, and allows you to show real dead and dying children, which you’d never be able to show in any other context. You didn’t have to shoot it, or light it, or cast it, or anything. All those victims were kind enough to be tortured and killed for you, just for your shitty movie. Asshole.

Horrorfest 2011: I Walked with a Zombie

2011-10-20T17:04:00.000-07:00

Here’s another Val Lewton flick, this time directed by Jacques Tourneur, who helmed both the classic quintessential Lewton flick CAT PEOPLE , along with the noir classic OUT OF THE PAST and another great Horrorfest film from last year, NIGHT OF THE DEMON (or CURSE OF THE DEMON, depending on who you ask).

I WALKED WITH A ZOMBIE takes place in the West Indies as a nurse (Frances Dee) goes to work for a wealthy sugar plantation owner (Tom Conway) taking care of his invalid wife (Christine Gordon). Conway’s mom (Edith Barrett) runs a medical clinic for the natives and his brother (James Ellison) is a drunk, tortured by some family secrets.

At first the nurse is happy to be in paradise, but soon the ominous jungle drums start beating, she starts to hear local voodoo legends and learn of superstitions, and it starts to look like the woman she’s caring for just might be a zombie. As she falls for her boss, the nurse decides she must try anything to cure her patient, and turns to voodoo for help.

As usual with a Val Lewton production, a lot of the horror is implied in the overall tone and feeling of the movie and there’s not a lot of actually horrific stuff that occurs. However, things do ramp up after a fairly slow start, as the nurse descends further into the world of voodoo and comes upon some legitimately chilling moments and characters.

To the film’s credit, it takes the voodoo subject more seriously than you might expect of a film of this era. Also, because of its setting, the movie features a more diverse cast than most 40s horror productions, providing some nice moments for the beautiful Theresa Harris as the maid, the interestingly named Sir Lancelot as a Calypso singer, and, most memorably, Darby Jones as a startlingly blank-faced and staring voodoo disciple who may or may not be a zombie.

These aspects make the film more memorable than it would be otherwise. It’s my least favorite of the Lewton flicks I’ve seen so far, falling a little more flat and just feeling a little more bland overall than its predecessors. Still, there are some genuinely creepy moments and a good finale, so it’s still worth a watch.

Horrorfest 2011: The Body Snatcher

2011-10-20T17:01:00.000-07:00

I put THE BODY SNATCHER on my list of flicks for Horrorfest thinking it would be yet another version of the alien invasion story, so I was pleasantly surprised to learn this was a Val Lewton produced vehicle for Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi. I watched the Lewton-produced flicks CAT PEOPLE And CURSE OF THE CAT PEOPLE for Horrorfest last year and loved them. Lewton was the RKO producer known for making quality flicks, both entertaining and artistic, with small budgets, so a lot of his pictures are leave more to the imagination and deal with more abstract subjects than the Universal horror movies of the day.

THE BODY SNATCHER takes place in 1830s Edinburgh and opens with a mother (Rita Corday) taking her wheel chair bound daughter (Sharyn Moffett) to the only doctor she believes can help – Dr. MacFarlane (Henry Daniell). MacFarlane turns her down because he considers himself more of a teacher than a practitioner, though his new assistant, Fettes (Russell Wade) is young and idealistic and wants to help.

Fettes soon finds out Dr. MacFarlane is not all that he seems, however, when it becomes clear that the doctor is supplying his medical school with fresh cadavers by way of cabman by day, grave robber by night John Gray (Boris Karloff). That’s not all – there also seems to be some personal history between MacFarlane and Gray, as the commoner Gray perversely delights in forcing the gentleman MacFarlane to squirm as he insists on publicly associating with him. Meanwhile, MacFarlane’s servant, Joseph (Bela Lugosi) also catches onto the macabre scheme and formulates a blackmail plot.

Without getting into too many spoilers, I can say the movie deals mostly with moral and ethical dilemmas. MacFarlane thinks he is doing the right thing because he is helping mankind and furthering the studies of scientific medicine. He views the social taboos against the use of dead bodies in clinical settings as primitive and feels he is forced to sneak around with criminals because of these beliefs. Fettes is more naïve and idealistic, and therefore even more torn on the subject – he, too, wants to help people, and admires MacFarlane, but can it possibly be “right” to rob graves?

The only one who seems fairly comfortable with his station in life is Gray, the criminal grave robber, who hides his activities just enough not go get caught, but has no delusions about the grand scheme of things. Still, he, too, is a slave of social mores, as his obsession with the class distinction between himself and MacFarlane, despite their close association, begins to rule his life.

As is the case with these things, they quickly unravel and get out of hand, and it’s not long before murder comes into the picture. Karloff is great as Gray, delighting in every single line of dialog, rolling it over his tongue like he’s reciting Shakespeare, and using a fake geniality to frighten both MacFarlane and the audience, as opposed to acting outright sinister. Daniell is similarly captivating as MacFarlane, who quietly unravels as he attempts to keep a stiff upper lip.

My only complaint about the flick is that I would have liked to have had some more Lugosi. He has one great scene with Karloff but is otherwise wasted in what amounts to a bit part. I mean, if you can get Lugosi to fill out a small role for atmosphere’s sake, of course you have to do it. I just wish he had more screen time and a little more to do. But, that’s just a minor nitpick in an otherwise great film.

Horrorfest 2011: The Old Dark House

2011-10-20T16:56:00.000-07:00

I’ve been wanting to check out THE OLD DARK HOUSE ever since James Rolfe reviewed it a few years back – not only was the review good, but the movie itself was directed by James Whale, a master of horror responsible for the first two FRANKENSTEIN films and THE INVISIBLE MAN, and stars Boris Karloff (Frankenstein’s monster himself) along with Ernest Thesiger (Dr. Pretorius in BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN, possibly the greatest mad scientist of all). So, the movie has a good pedigree.

This must be among the first instance of the by-now familiar plot device of a group of travelers forced to stay in a strange house after their car breaks down in a storm. In this case, the travelers are a married couple (Raymond Massey and Gloria Stuart, the latter of TITANIC fame – who knew, she used to be hot) and their bachelor pal (Melvyn Douglas). Later, they’re joined by a couple more stranded travelers, a self-made tycoon (Charles Laughton) and his arm candy (Lilian Bond).

At first, the titular old dark house is merely a bit weird. Soon, it starts to grow sinister and dangerous. The house is inhabited by the Femm siblings, the mostly deaf and self-righteous sister played by Eva Moore, and her fussy, nervous brother, played by the afore-mentioned Ernest Thesiger. Their invalid father (Elspeth Dudgeon, in an off-putting gender-bending performance), over 100 years old, is laid up in an upstairs bedroom. Another upstairs bedroom, the door bolted with ominous locks, houses the third sibling (Brember Wills), said to be murderously insane. Even the butler is weird – this is Boris Karloff, as a mute hulk who unintelligibly mumbles his dialog and becomes dangerous once he gets drunk.

There’s a funny disclaimer at the beginning of the movie assuring us that this is indeed the same Boris Karloff who played the monster in FRANKENSTEIN. That was his breakout role, and there he was also mute and covered in makeup, rendering him almost unrecognizable. Once again, in this flick, he’s mute and covered in makeup. It’s a good performance, but you can see why the filmmakers felt the need to go out of their way to point out that this is Karloff, because it’s not readily obvious.

One cool thing about the movie is how funny it is. Although the dark house and its inhabitants are scary and have their fair share of fright moments, their eccentricities, when mixed with the “normal” people who stop by for the night, can’t help but lead to humor. This is especially evident in Ernest Thesiger’s awesome portrayal – he’s simultaneously weird and frightening to his guests, while also being afraid of his own family and the house itself. He’s so uncomfortable in his own skin while attempting to remain a classy gentleman that his every move and word drips with sarcastic double meaning.

There’s also a little refreshing love triangle between the lazy bachelor, Douglas, the ambitious business man, Laughton, and the businessman’s companion, Bond. Laughton (later to play the tragic lead in HUNBACK OF NOTRE DAME), as always, is great, and his character is interesting – he’s heart broken and driven, but realistic about the wavering affections of his dame. He also can’t help but be charmed by Douglas, who is a raffish n’er-do-well. And Bond is cute as a button. The love scenes between Douglas and Bond are a little less cloying and more witty and realistic than some scenes I’ve had to sit through in other films of the era.

In fact, the whole movie is refreshing and original. Although it marks the beginning of a cliché that won’t go away, I can assure you you’ll never see anything quite like THE OLD DARK HOUSE.

Horrorfest 2011: Santa Sangre

2011-10-19T16:13:00.000-07:00

Now to change things up a little bit, here’s a completely normal movie. No, I’m just kidding – SANTA SANGRE is about as weird as they get. Not HOUSE weird. But close.

SANTA SANGRE is the life story of a circus performer named Fenix. We first see him played by director Alejandro Jodorowsky’s son, Axel, as an adult in an insane asylum, but we quickly flashback to his days as a child magician in a Mexican circus, now played by the director’s other son, Adan. Fenix is traumatized early on when he witnesses the result of his knife-throwing father’s (Guy Stockwell) affair with the Tattooed Woman (Thelma Tixou). Fenix’s mother (Blanca Guerra), a religious cult leader by day and trapeze artist by night, disfigures his father with acid, and his father responds by chopping off her arms and slitting his own throat. The Tattooed Woman escapes with her life, dragging along her adopted daughter, Fenix’s best friend and young love, a deaf/mute tightrope walker (Faviola Elenka Tapia).

After this set up, we cut back to the present, as Fenix (Axel again) breaks out of the insane asylum with the help of his armless mother, starts a new act with her, and begins exacting murderous revenge on her behalf. In the stage act, the revenge plot, and in domestic scenes at home, Fenix acts as his mother’s arms, standing behind her, putting his arms through her sleeves, and performing all of her wants and needs for her, whether it’s playing the piano or stabbing a hooker to death. Meanwhile, we see that Fenix’s childhood love has grown into a pretty young woman forced into prostitution (Sabrina Dennison).

As I watched SANTA SANGRE unfold, I couldn’t help but be reminded of THE UNKNOWN from earlier in Horrorfest – that was the flick with Lon Chaney as the armless (and murderous) knife thrower. I wonder if Jodorowsky ever saw that one?

This movie is never boring. Much like the other Jodorowsky flick I’ve seen, the equally infamous and weird EL TOPO, the narrative seems to reinvent itself once every 15 minutes or so. It is one long story that makes sense, sure, but we follow Fenix through so many settings and adventures that it’s almost like we’re watching six movies about his life instead of just one. For every plot device and twist, there are even more stunning images, including a tragic elephant funeral, a nightmare in which Fenix’s victims rise from the grave, and a shocking finale in which Fenix’s circus clown friends help him exorcise his demons and claw his way back to sanity.

The interesting thing here is that despite the horrific things he does, the nightmarish visions, and the overall weird setting, Fenix comes off as a likable, sympathetic character who might be just as at home in a silent comedy as he is here. Part of this is thanks to the naïve, wide-eyed, affable double performance from Axel and Adan Jodorowsky.

Like HOUSE, SANTA SANGRE benefits from not taking itself too seriously. Like HOUR OF THE WOLF, SANTA SANGRE also benefits from seeming like it has something important to say about the human condition. Added up together, it is my favorite of the “weird” trilogy I’ve put myself through during this stretch of Horrorfest.

Note to self: watch everything else Alejandro Jodorowsky ever made as soon as possible.

Horrorfest 2011: Hour of the Wolf

2011-10-19T16:07:00.000-07:00

Here’s another weird one – HOUR OF THE WOLF, written and directed by Ingmar Bergman, stars Max Von Sydow as a tortured painter living with his pregnant wife (Liv Ullmann) in an isolated cabin on a mostly deserted island. As the painter seems to descend into insanity he’s helped along by nightmarish visions, memories, and encounters with a strange brood living in a nearby castle who may or may not be figments of his imagination. Meanwhile, the painter’s hapless wife tries to help, staying up sleepless nights with the crazed artist as the insanity possibly begins to rub off.

I’m not ashamed to say I didn’t understand exactly what was happening from one scene to the next, and I don’t think Bergman is particularly interested in spelling things out for the audience. The movie is more about what goes on in someone’s mind than any kind of literal plot. I read several interpretations of the movie after I was done watching it, and kept coming across the claim that this is Bergmans “only” horror film. I’d argue THE VIRGIN SPRING is at least as horrific, if not moreso. But I guess horror is in the eye of the beholder.

The movie starts off as a fairly dry and depressing drama, and the horror elements start to creep in around the edges later. My own interpretation of the movie is that Von Sydow’s character is having some kind of nervous breakdown – an identity crisis brought about by a creative block that is making painting very difficult for him. As he slips into old age, he becomes more and more obsessed with his past regrets – a woman he had an affair with (Ingrid Thulin), sexual and violent urges he either did or did not act on – and these present themselves to him in the form of dreams, visions and hallucinations. Bergman’s direction does not make it readily obvious what is real and what is imagined, and for all we know, some of it might be half real and half imagined.

What sets this film apart from some other “descents into madness” I’ve seen is the involvement of the painter’s wife – most of it is through her point of view, observing her husband’s despair, and the narrative explores the idea that by being so open and emotionally tied to her husband, the wife might be just as crazy, or end up just as crazy if she’s not careful.

The painter’s insanity reaches its apex when he’s invited by the local Baron (Erland Josephson) to attend a dinner party at the nearby castle. Here, Von Sydow completely unwinds as he is teased, taunted and made a fool of by the inhabitants of the castle who seem to represent Von Sydow’s darkest fears and desires. One nightmarish image follows another – an old woman (Naima Wifstrand) pulls off her own face, Von Sydow recounts a creepy, violent encounter he once had (or did he?) with a young boy (Mikael Rundquist). Throughout it all, as usual, Von Sydow is great.

This movie is a good rebuttal to the anarchic weirdness of HOUSE. Both are deliberately weird, but HOUR OF THE WOLF seems to be saying something.

Horrorfest 2011: House

2011-10-15T23:40:00.000-07:00

HOUSE may be the single weirdest movie I've ever seen, and I've seen some weird ones. It almost defies explanation. That kind of sucks, because movies that defy explanation both demand to be seen and are destined to be hated by half the people who see them, so it's hard to say what you really want to say when asked about this kind of movie, which is, "You have to see it to believe it." While that is literally true, it's not a helpful recommendation.

Movies that are weird for the sake of being weird are often love or hate affairs but if you see enough them you start to get immune to extreme feelings and end up somewhere in the middle. Several hundred movies ago, when I was 15, I imagine I would have loved or hated this movie. Now that I'm an old man, I didn't love or hate HOUSE. I was mildly amused by it while also waiting for it to end.

HOUSE, a Japanese film from the late 70s, has a fairly flimsy plot that's just an excuse for a bunch of hallucinatory visuals, some wacky sound design and a lot of counter intuitive editing tricks. It's like live action anime directed by Ken Russell.

Basically, this is the story of seven teenage schoolgirls in little sailor uniforms who go for a summer vacation at the country house of one of the girls' aunts (Yoko Minamida). The girls all have nicknames describing their personalities -- Gorgeous (Kimiko Ikegami) is preoccupied with her looks, Prof (Ai Matsubara) is a nerd, Fantasy (Kumiko Oba) has her head in the clouds, Kung Fu (Miki Jinbo) does kung fu, and so on. The aunt has had a sad and lonely life since her husband died in World War II and it isn't long before weird stuff starts to happen at the house. At first the girls think it might be their imagination but eventually it becomes pretty clear the place is haunted.

The thing is, for the viewer, weird shit starts happening in the first second of the film and never stops. Music and sound effects are often completely at odds with whatever is going on onscreen, multiple editing tricks are used to transition into and out of scenes within seconds of each other, sometimes unnecessarily in the middle of a scene, the characters are cartoony and simplistic, and the backgrounds are obviously overwrought dramatic paintings. So, by the time weird shit starts going on in the narrative, it isn't that big of a deal to the audience because as far as we're concerned the whole thing has been weird all along. But, the girls in the movie don't realize they're living in a nightmarish cartoon fantasy acidland until people start disappearing and bodies start piling up. The house itself seems to be possessed as one girl is buried by a bunch of futons (seriously) and another is eaten by a piano (no kidding).

I don't want this to come off like some of this doesn't work. It undeniably does, on some level. I mean, you don't stare at it thinking whoever made it was incompetent. No, director Nobuhiko Obayashi definitely had a vision and you can tell this was all deliberate. So, it's not in the "so bad it's good" category because it's not bad -- not charmingly bad, or offensively bad. But, it doesn't quite reach the heights of greatness, either.

Granted, it must have been mind blowing to walk into a theater and see this unfold before your eyes with absolutely no preparation. But is that enough to make it a satisfying movie? I don't really think so. I think this works more as a piece of art to be looked at for art's sake, or maybe even as a novelty, and not so much as a traditional narrative that says much about the human condition or engages viewers on any kind of emotional level. Not that a "great" movie has to be a traditional narrative or any of that stuff, but... I don't know how to explain it.

I guess what I'm struggling to say is that this movie is just "okay." Normally that wouldn't be so much of a struggle, but it seems like an odd thing to say about a movie as unique as this one. I feel like I should either be wowed by its audacity or offended by its stupidity, and I'm neither.

At the very least, HOUSE is always interesting to look at, and for a horror flick with some exploitation stuff thrown in, it tends to keep a fairly positive vibe the whole time. Even though it's about a bunch of schoolgirls getting knocked off by ghosts, it never veers into disturbingly dark and dirty territory. Everyone seems to be having fun with the production, and that might be the secret of its redemption because there's nothing worse than a weird movie that takes itself too seriously.

At least these weirdos are fun weirdos.

Horrorfest 2011: Hush... Hush, Sweet Charlotte

2011-10-15T23:01:00.000-07:00

The whole time I was watching HUSH... HUSH, SWEET CHARLOTTE I was convinced I had watched and reviewed WHATEVER HAPPENED TO BABY JANE? for Horrorfest 2010 or 2009. Both films are directed by Robert Aldrich and written by Henry Farrell and Lukas Heller. Both star Bette Davis as lonely, crazed, aging women who have fallen from youths during which they were placed on pedestals.

So, I went back to look at my BABY JANE review and found that it did not exist. I did watch that movie for the first time within the last couple years, and it was definitely horrifying, but I guess it wasn't for Horrorfest. Weird. My mind had played a trick on me, but luckily I'm not as crazy as Davis' character in HUSH... HUSH.

Davis stars as an old shut in, living in a crumbling plantation house that was once the scene of her "perfect" childhood as a southern belle attending formal parties. She's days away from being thrown off the land so the city can tear down the house and build a bridge. She refuses to leave the property even though she is the victim of much local gossip -- almost 40 years before, Davis was planning on running off with a married man (Bruce Dern) who was found with his hand and head hacked off. Although the authorities never solved the murder case, it was a media sensation and everyone in town thinks Davis did it except her loyal, if rough around the edges, housekeeper (Agnes Moorehead).

Davis has called on her only living relation, her cousin (Olivia de Havilland) to come visit in the hopes that she'll be a helpful ally in her attempts to fight the eviction. The local doctor (Joseph Cotten) is also on hand to help, but he's disturbed by Davis' insistence that there's some conspiracy or feud against her perpetrated by the widow (Mary Astor) of her long dead beau. Although Davis seems clearly disturbed, it's not all in her mind -- she is receiving anonymous accusatory notes in the mail, local kids do dare each other to break into her house, and she is awakened in the middle of the night either by ghostly visitations or possibly hallucinations that constantly remind her of the murder.

So, we have the natural drama of the trainwreck of Davis' character, along with the intrigue of the murder -- who did it? On top of that, everyone surrounding Davis suspects each other of attempting to take advantage of her. Is Moorehead, as the loyal housekeeper, trying to stay close to Davis to get into the will? Has cousin de Havilland returned to try to get her inheritance? And what about the old romance between de Havilland and Cotten that I forgot to mention before, or the journalist who keeps snooping around (Cecil Kellaway)?

Not only does this movie cash in on the similarities between it and WHATEVER HAPPENED TO BABY JANE?, but I also found it reminiscent of JEZEBEL and GONE WITH THE WIND. In JEZEBEL, Davis played an antebellum southern belle who could have possibly turned out like Charlotte in this movie given the right circumstances, and of course de Havilland is famous for her turn as the sweet and kind Melanie in GONE WITH THE WIND, both a friend rival to Scarlett O'Hara.

HUSH... HUSH has a bunch of twists and turns so I can't exactly go into anymore plot details without giving stuff away. I will say that it is fun how the story allows most of the characters to play both good and evil -- the plot surprises us enough that some characters who seemed honest and true turn out to be snakes and others who seemed to be creepy turn out to be good people. So, not only do we get good performances out of everyone, but we get multiple good performances per actor. The way the story unfolds also allows for a variety of different scares -- actual violence, potentially supernatural events, people conspiring against each other, a woman sliding into insanity.

It's also cool to see four middle-aged actresses really going at it with their acting chops -- Davis, Moorehead, de Havilland and Astor all have multiple great scenes in various match ups and it's a shame that that seems like a rarity, but unfortunately we don't get good stories involving older women all that often in the movies.

Man, I used to be in love with Olivia de Havilland when I was little. I first saw her as Maid Marian in THE ADVENTURES OF ROBIN HOOD, so I was already in love with her by the time I saw GONE WITH THE WIND later. I was pleased to see that she still looked good in HUSH... HUSH, almost 30 years after the other performances I'd seen. I was also pleased to see that she had some more stuff to do in HUSH... HUSH beyond just being sweet and perfect. In this one, de Havilland really gets to dig in and show what she can do, playing a totally three dimensional character with a lot of surprises.

Of course, Davis is great as well -- she's kind of doing a riff on her Baby Jane character, here, but this one may even be a little more complex, if not quite as showy. In any case, the two performances show the same bravery and ambition of a once young and beautiful movie star not being afraid to get downright dirty, ugly and over the top.

Just a quick note on Joseph Cotten's character -- his name is Dr. Drew. First we have Steve Martin in GODZILLA, now Dr. Drew in this one. Sheesh.

Horrorfest 2011: The Most Dangerous Game

2011-10-15T22:31:00.000-07:00

I've been wanting to see THE MOST DANGEROUS GAME ever since I read a fantastic article about in the newsprint pages of my favorite film buff magazine, FILMFAX. You know, back when magazines existed? It was the only publication in the mid-90s running regular articles about Ed Wood and Bettie Page, so I read it religiously.

But we're here to talk about THE MOST DANGEROUS GAME, in which a shipwrecked big game hunter played by Joel McCrea washes up on the shore of a private island owned by a mysterious and sinister Russian count played by Leslie Banks. Banks has two other guests, siblings who are also the survivors of a recent shipwreck -- a drunk (Robert Armstrong) and a beauty (Fay Wray). There's also a creepy, mute servant lurking around the house (Noble Johnson, a black actor in white face, oddly enough).

Apparently there were other shipwreck survivors as well, but they have mysteriously disappeared after being invited to go on a hunt with Banks after viewing his locked off trophy room. Wray suspects foul play on the part of Banks, but Armstrong wants to party and be pals. McCrea is interested in the hunt, being a hunter himself, but Banks refuses to reveal what "special" game he hunts on his island.

If you don't know where this is going yet and don't want to, stop reading. The most dangerous game is people! No shit. At first Banks wants to hunt with McCrea, but McCrea won't have it, and it isn't long before Armstrong has disappeared and McCrea, along with Wray, become the game in Banks' next hunt.

This is a good film on its own merit -- it has great pacing, doesn't overstay its welcome, and is about as action packed and suspenseful as they come. It's also a great premise fully exploited, and all the central performances are good, particularly Banks as the villain and Armstrong as the drunk. And, Fay Wray is easy on the eyes.

Still, it's hard not to enjoy the film on another level, as well, because of its close association with KING KONG. I've loved KING KONG ever since I was little, so it was fun to see THE MOST DANGEROUS GAME partially because of all of the similarities between the two movies. They were shot pretty much simultaneously in 1932 -- they had the same producing/directing team -- Ernest B. Schoedsack and Merian C. Cooper -- some of the same stars -- Robert Armstrong, Fay Wray and Noble Johnson -- the same composer -- Max Steiner -- and even the same sets! Most of the action takes place on the magnificent jungle set used for KONG's Skull Island. And this isn't just a case of moving a few bushes around -- they even run across the exact same log bridge!

So, THE MOST DANGEROUS GAME is fun on a couple different levels and never fails to entertain. Some modern movies could take some lessons on brevity and efficiency from this flick, which is among the best edited early movies I've ever seen.

Horrorfest 2011: Godzilla, King of the Monsters!

2011-10-14T00:21:00.000-07:00

GODZILLA, KING OF THE MONSTERS! is another in a long list of movies I feel like I've seen that I never actually sat through until today. The giant reptilian monster is so iconic that probably anyone you meet on the street could tell you the basic plot of the movie whether or not they've seen it. I'd seen parts of the original and its many sequels over the years, and I saw KING KONG VS. GODZILLA countless times as a kid since I owned it on VHS. But never the whole original.

I still kind of haven't seen the whole original -- just the American cut. Still, the American cut is probably the most famous version of the original, so close enough. The major difference between the American cut and the original Japanese release of GODZILLA is the addition of a foreign correspondent character played by Raymond Burr (named Steve Martin, oddly enough). The idea was to edit Burr seamlessly into the movie to give American audiences a character to latch onto, and to minimize the amount of voice dubbing necessary, instead relying on other characters translating to Burr, or Burr simply narrating over a scene, summarizing it for the American audience.

Unfortunately this process is not so seamless. Since Burr was nowhere near the sets when the original Japanese film was shot, he spends most of the movie reacting to shit he's not actually seeing. We're meant to believe he's standing in the corner of a room during a big important meeting, or among a crowd during an attack scene, but instead he looks like he's standing in an empty studio staring into a camera. Which he is. The few scenes he is not inserted into play out with Burr narrating over top of them. The American meddling gets so overwhelming at times it's a wonder they didn't just scrap every shot except the special effects shots and just make a whole new movie. But, no. Instead, they try to make it look like Burr is interacting with the Japanese actors.

Godzilla, of course, is a giant dinosaur-ish creature who has been accidentally created by nuclear weapons testing. He first attacks boats at sea, then a remote island of superstitious villagers and finally sets his sites (and atomic breath) on Tokyo. Paleontologist Dr. Yamane (Takashi Shimura) wants to study the beast. His daughter Emiko (Momoko Kochi) is betrothed to another scientist (Akihiko Hirata) who has developed a mysterious and deadly weapon that could be used against Godzilla, but she wants to break off the engagement so she can hook up with a ship captain (Akira Takarada). All the while Raymond Burr carries on broken conversations with doubles playing these characters who carefully keep their backs to the camera.

To the movie's credit, the whole story is approached with an impressive level of seriousness. It's a well known fact that both the monster Godzilla and the first movie he starred in were symbols for the terrors ravaged on Hiroshima and Nagasaki by the atomic bombs, as well as the fire bombing of Tokyo. So, unlike many later imitators, GODZILLA actually shows the aftermath and consequences of a giant monster attack and how it impacts the citizens of Tokyo. We get shots of bodies in rubble and makeshift hospitals packed with refugees, and they're effective.

Although for the most part Godzilla is portrayed by a guy in a monster suit stomping on tiny models of buildings, it is important to note that the black and white photography in this film goes a long way to make the creature look as sinister and mysterious as possible. The monster attack scenes are shot in such a way that moody shadows and smoke add to the atmosphere. Later giant monster movies forgot the importance of lighting and shooting your monster carefully so as to cover up the more cartoonish aspects of the whole endeavor. The dark look of the movie, and the way it dwells on the casualties, almost make it feel like a docu-drama about a disaster that really occurred, as opposed to a silly sci-fi flick.

Godzilla, the monster, is mostly frightening as a force of nature. It's creepy how he just pops up with little explanation and goes on a rampage and seemingly can't be stopped. He can't be reasoned with, he has no motivation. He just destroys for destruction's sake. That is a chilling notion, but it is also a slight drawback to the narrative -- since none of the human characters are engaging (Burr can't even be bothered to look scared when Tokyo's burning down), it'd be nice to have a monster with a bit of a personality. But would that personality take away from Godzilla's "act of God" status? Or would it enrich the movie, like the sympathetic monster in KING KONG?

The movie does almost take it to the next level during the climax, in which the humans work together to reluctantly unleash a super weapon, and one character makes an unexpected sacrifice. So, not only is the monster created by and inspired by real life nuclear attacks, but the plot to destroy the monster reveals philosophical questions about whether or not to use a weapon like a nuclear bomb -- when is it okay and can it be done responsibly? Or is mankind doomed to repeat his mistakes? This sequence is set to surprisingly tragic and mournful music, instead of your usual monster movie bombast, and it is that kind of detail that really helps set GODZILLA apart from some of his more brain dead monster colleagues.

That's two movies in a row with an exclamation mark in the title, by the way.

Horrorfest 2011: Them!

2011-10-12T23:46:00.000-07:00

Nuclear bomb tests in the deserts of New Mexico give spawn to mutated giant ants in THEM!, the first giant bug movie in a decade known for giant bugs movies, the 1950s. It even predates GODZILLA as one of the first of the nuclear age of monsters.

First, I was confused. The movie opened against a black and white desert back drop and I thought, "Oh, that's weird, I figured based on the poster that the movie would be in color." Then, the title appeared on the screen IN COLOR. So I thought, maybe the movie is in color. But, then the rest of the movie was in black and white. Okay. . .

After that little bit of confusion, I was pleasantly surprised. See, I thought I was in store for some magnified footage of real ants super imposed in phony process shots with the actors, but I was glad to find that most of the monster work was done with full size puppets. Of course the special effects aren't that special compared to what can be accomplished today, but they at least put the monsters and the people physically in the same locations and don't look any more fake than they have to.

The movie gets off to a compelling and suspenseful start as a dazed little girl (Sandy Descher) is found wandering the desert and a cop (James Whitmore) investigates some mysterious killings in the area. Soon the FBI gets involved, sending a square jawed agent (James Arness) out to partner up with the cop. A father and daughter team of entomologists (Edmund Gwenn and Joan Weldon, respectively) are also flown in to follow up on giant unidentified foot prints found in the desert sand.

Unfortunately, this team of giant ant slayers is pretty bland and they're all about as one dimensional as you can get. The mystery and wow factor of the giant ant story takes center stage here and the audience is left with little else to latch onto. Almost every character, aside from a couple scared locals, are officials just doing their job -- there isn't anything personal at stake here. Well, I mean, I guess there is, given the fact that the ants left unchecked will exterminate the human race, but there's nothing to make us care about our heroes. The only one with any personality is the scientist played by Gwenn, a character actor probably known best for playing Kris Kringle in MIRACLE ON 34th STREET, who is able to infuse some eccentricities and comic relief into an otherwise thankless role.

Still, at first, the ant plot was enough to keep me engaged until about halfway through the film when the action and momentum seemed to slow from a good clip to a crawl as the first anthill is vanquished and our characters spend several scenes attempting to track down a few escaped queen ants who might be building nests elsewhere in the area. Things pick up again just in time for a pretty good finale as the ants attempt to build a new home under Los Angeles, using the L.A. River as part of their new system of tunnels.

I couldn't help but think of James Cameron's ALIENS as our human heroes wandered the dark tunnels, blasting ants and their eggs with flame throwers. I also thought about my own battles with the ants who have dared enter my apartment over the years and how vinegar seems to be a surprisingly potent weapon against them. But, why bother with vinegar when you've got bazookas, flame throwers, machine guns and grenades?

Like I mentioned before, THEM! is the first of its kind, as horror moved from its gothic roots in the first half of the 20th century into the realm of science fiction, replacing the horrors of superstition and folk tales with the paranoia of rapidly developing modern technology. Since this is the forefront of this kind of movie, it was a major production with a healthy budget that became Warner's big hit for the year, so it's not as hokey or cheesy as other movies that came later in the same genre.

As far as giant bug movies go, THEM! is about as good as can be expected, and about as credible as can be expected, and is pretty fun, effortless entertainment for the first half. But then it loses a little bit of its magic, none of the characters step up to bring anything to the table, and the finale comes a little later than I'd like.

But, the movie gets extra points for having an exclamation point in the title. That's moxie, folks.

Horrorfest 2011: Cube

2011-10-11T22:40:00.001-07:00

Like [REC], I went into CUBE a little prejudiced. Ever since CUBE hit the new release wall in 1997, it has been one of those movies friends and acquaintances tell me they've "discovered" and that I have to see. I was always reluctant because it seemed like one of those movies that relied a little too heavily on its premise -- a group of strangers wake up in a mysterious cube shaped maze made of booby trapped rooms and have to figure their way out of there. I mean, once you know that, what else is there to know? I can see sitting through 25 minutes of a TWILIGHT ZONE episode, but an entire feature film?

Anyway, I've finally seen it. I have to say, even though the premise is gimmicky, it was not the film's undoing. The film's undoing was basically everything else.

To be fair, we're dealing squarely in the realm of low budget filmmaking, here, so you have to at least give these guys credit for coming up with an interesting idea for a puzzle and a credible solution to that puzzle. The movie doesn't rely on cheating or withholding clues from the audience. The central mystery makes sense, basically, even if the existence of the "cube" itself could probably never be satisfactorily explained. To the movie's credit, it doesn't do much in the way of trying to explain. Wise move.

Unfortunately, clever ideas do not a good film make. They help. But they have to have backup. And there's not much in the way of backup here. The whole movie is shot, edited and designed about on par with a syndicated sci-fi show of the era. Even the music, what little there is, is laughable in its attempt to be mysterious. There are a couple effects that belong in the majors, including some nifty gore moments, but these are few and far between and most of what we're stuck with is a series of stock sci-fi rooms (actually one set redressed a bunch of times). I mean, that's the premise -- characters stuck in a cage. But, at least make the cage interesting.

The acting is also wildly uneven with a cast of mostly unlikable characters. Normally I don't like to shit on actors because they're at the mercy of so many variables it's hard for anyone to really know who's a "good" actor and who's a "bad" actor without being on set to see what went down, but there was clearly no one on this production charged with the task of making these poor bastards look good. The cliche ridden dialogue offers nothing interesting for them to say and the director's primary performance note seems to have been, "Yell more!" When you're stuck with one set, you've got to do better than that.

Our cast includes Maurice Dean Wint as an angry cop, David Hewlett as an angry office worker, Nicky Guadagni as an angry doctor, and Wayne Robson as an angry escape artist. They're all angry. Got that? Of these, Wint has the most heavy lifting to do as his character goes through the most changes, but he seems to play it all on about the same level, robbing the movie of some momentum along the way. I was hoping for a good death scene for Guadagni early on since she seemed to be the worst offender in the yelling contest. Robson doesn't get much screen time and Hewlett is probably the most likable of the bunch if only because he seems to hate the movie about as much as I did.

Of special note is Nicole de Boer, who plays a high school (or college?) math whiz. I say special note because she's cute as hell. You might remember her as the second Dax from DEEP SPACE NINE. I mean, if you're a nerd, like me. And if you're watching CUBE, you probably are.

Just when you think things can't get any more unintentionally hilarious, Andrew Miller shows up as a mentally challenged individual. I'll leave it up to your imagination as to whether or not he has a super secret, borderline magical, special skill. Sheesh.

The movie does eventually manage to get around to ratcheting up some tension towards the end, after a long slow wind up, and it is fairly clear there was a genuinely good movie buried in here somewhere. A couple more rewrites, maybe a little more attention given to the actors, a little moody lighting, and we might have had something.

Now that I've seen CUBE I'm a little confused as to how it has gathered the following that it has. It is among the highest voted horror movies on IMDB. I think it might be the result of a phenomenon where people embrace it because it wasn't a pre-packaged thing that was marketed to death and shoved onto the movie going public. It's something people found for themselves. And, once found, it was slightly more interesting than your average low budget sci-fi horror flick. So, back in 1997 it must have been a rewarding experience to rent it on a whim and have your mind blown, relatively speaking.

I guess maybe I should have watched it 14 years ago when I had the chance.

Horrorfest 2011: [REC]

2011-10-11T17:19:00.000-07:00

I was a little wary going into [REC]. Having heard about the 2007 film for a few years now, I was aware it was yet another of those BLAIR WITCH inspired handy-cam flicks where we're supposed to be scared by how real and immediate everything seems. Still, I was pleasantly surprised that [REC] is one of the better examples of the genre I've seen.

[REC] opens as raw footage for a late night show in which a cute host (Manuela Velasco) interacts with different people who are up working while most citizens are sleeping. This episode happens to be about firemen and gets off to a slow start before an engine is finally called to respond to an apartment building where a woman is trapped in her apartment. Unfortunately for everyone, the woman turns out to be a blood thirsty zombie, and before the building residents, the two person TV crew or the firemen know what's happening, they're being quarantined in the building.

For the rest of the film the quarantined people argue, run up and down the stairs several times, become infected, kill each other, and attempt to escape, all shot from the point of view of the camera man (Pablo Rosso) in a fairly realistic manner. There are very few cheats in the film to interrupt this point of view, though when they do pop up they're a little more glaring than they probably should be, most notably in a sequence in which the camera is rewound and a key scene is replayed for us. This suggests within the fictional world of the movie some editor touched the footage after it was shot and discovered, and if that's the case, how come a bunch of other stuff wasn't edited out? There's another sequence in which man in being interviewed and his audio is spoken over a montage of shots of injured residents, which could have only been done by an editor after the fact, which again, makes you wonder, if that's the case, why not cut out the endless runs up and down the stairs and the multiple gaffes committed by the TV host early on?

But, I'm being a little too nerdy and nitpicky here. That stuff hardly matters. Let's concentrate on the main strength of the: it does not suffer from the one thing that plagues most of these films the most which is the complete unwillingness to actually show any monsters or suitably supernatural events to the viewer. I'm not saying all movies have to be graphic and I realize there is something to be said for holding back the monsters for suspense's sake. However, too many of these "amateur" pseudo-documentary horror flicks use their own premise seemingly as an excuse not to deliver the goods. Too many of them suffer from thinking their premise is good enough. Not [REC] -- this one promises zombies, and you get zombies and more, including a particularly frightening creature who emerges from the shadows during the film's freaky climax, easily the best part of the movie.

Ironically, the pseudo-documentary style of the film ends up making it seem a little longer than it actually is. It's not quite 80 minutes but seems to move a little slower than you'd think an 80 minute zombie outbreak movie would, and I guess that's mostly due to repetition. In some ways, while being one of the best examples of its genre, the movie is also a victim of its own set up -- a slave to a camera man who must run from one place to another in seemingly real time, tied down to a script consisting mostly of panicked people shouting the same things to each other over and over again. This is probably a little easier to put up with if you speak Spanish (oh yeah, this movie is from Spain) but it gets a little old when you're reading subtitles super imposed on top of shots that never stop moving.

The actual story almost eclipses the wow factor of wondering how they pulled this off, but not quite. Probably the best audience for this film is a group who can appreciate watching the filmmakers pull off all their tricks while also looking for a good scare. If you're just in it for the scare, you may not make it all the way through the set up to the payoff. But, if you do, it's totally worth it.

Horrorfest 2011: The Picture of Dorian Gray

2011-10-11T16:56:00.000-07:00

It's 19th century London and the handsome, mild-mannered Dorian Gray (Hurd Hatfield) is seduced with the possibility of living a hedonistic lifestyle before he grows too old to enjoy it by worldly gentleman Lord Henry Wotton (George Sanders) in this classic film adaptation of Oscar Wilde's novel.

As Dorian Gray explores the seedier side of London, he falls in love with a lower class but innocent singing showgirl (Angela Lansbury). However, not all is as it seems, and as Gray attempts to protect his terrible secret his love affair falls apart and the bodies start piling up.

Gray's secret? He somewhat inadvertently wished for eternal youth, transferring not only the ravages of age but also of sin to his own visage on a recently painted portrait. The portrait's painter, Gray's friend Basil (Lowell Gilmore) becomes suspicious of Gray's sudden change in attitude and lack of change in appearance as the years go by, though Basil's daughter (Donna Reed) is devoted to the idea that Gray is just as innocent as he was when she was just a little girl and knew him as a young man.

This is a great production, beautifully shot in black and white with the notable exceptions of a few color shots of the portrait itself, at first beautiful and later even more twisted than you'd probably imagine. The score is also haunting, featuring a particularly well placed Chopin piece used as a repetitive and chilling theme throughout. There are also several compelling performances, particularly George Sanders as the philosophically hedonistic, but not evil, inspiration for Dorian Gray's life of sin and Angela Lansbury as the showgirl with a tragic destiny. It's surprisingly relevant and modern the way Gray toys with the showgirl's emotions as he's initially courting her. All those pick up artists on TV and in self help seminars could take notice of this tale as an example of how manipulating someone's feelings can lead to disaster.

I only have two complaints -- one nitpicky, the other legitimate. First, the nitpick. Because of the way the movie is cast and the way the plot works out, the most interesting actors, Lansbury and Sanders, are taken off of center stage early on. We're left with Hatfield, but he has a thankless role as the cold, calculating Gray.

The more legitimate complaint involves a redundant and intrusive narrator who butts in at the worst times and seems to explain things the audience could easily figure out for themselves by simply watching the movie. I'd be willing to write this off as a sign of the times in which the film was made if I hadn't already seen plenty of films from the same era that don't have this problem.

Still, that's not enough to eclipse an otherwise compelling and tragic story.

Horrorfest 2011: The Golem

2011-10-08T09:13:00.000-07:00

THE GOLEM is one of the many films I read about as a kid but never actually saw at the time, so I'm glad to have finally watched it. When I was little, I used to read books about monster movies, but before the age of the Internet, obscure flicks were harder to come by. The video store might have FRANKENSTEIN, DRACULA and KING KONG if you were lucky, but you were out of luck if you wanted to affordably and easily get your hands on the likes of THE GOLEM.

THE GOLEM is the 4th silent film of Horrorfest 2011, the 3rd German film, and the 2nd to take place in Prague. This time it's the 16th century and Rabbi Loew (Albert Steinruck) is observing the stars when he sees a constellation foretelling disastrous times ahead for his Jewish community. This tragedy comes to fruition when the Emperor (Otto Gebuhr) decrees that all the Jews are to be banished from the ghetto where they live. Loew decides to use black magic and invokes the demon Astaroth in a successful attempt to build an artificial man out of a clay, a "Golem," and bring him to life to serve the community and protect them from their enemies.

The Golem is played by Paul Wegener, who also directed the film. Apparently Wegener was particularly taken with the legend of the Golem and had attempted to film it two other times before this film. Both of those films are lost, however. As played by Wegener, the Golem is a towering barrel chested brute who lumbers around like a zombie but possesses super human strength. At first he's used for manual labor around the ghetto, where he's viewed in fear and awe by the community. Later he's presented to the Emperor as a curiosity and goes on to save a bunch of partying Christians, thus sparing the Jews from their impending expulsion. Unfortunately, still later, the Golem goes out of control and rampages through the city, wrecking havoc.

As an early horror film I'd say THE GOLEM is influential in two ways. First, it was shot by cinematographer Karl Freund, who went on to shoot other classic German expressionist films like METROPOLIS and eventually created the "official" look of horror by shooting the Bela Lugosi version of DRACULA. This, coupled with the fact that he directed Boris Karloff in THE MUMMY, make him almost single handedly responsible for the way horror films looked in the 30s and 40s.

Secondly, THE GOLEM is a clear inspiration for the James Whale/Boris Karloff version of FRANKENSTEIN, perhaps the most influential monster movie of all time. The makeup, the mannerisms, and even some of the scenes appear to have been a direct influence. Like Frankenstein's monster, the Golem is created in a flashy creation sequence involving lots of explosions, lightning, and emotional carrying on by the chief creator. Also, The Golem displays signs of humanity, despite his monstrous origins, and is a sympathetic character. Finally, both monsters have a climactic scene played opposite an innocent little girl.

As a film, THE GOLEM falls a little flat. Again, as always, I have to remind myself that this thing is over 80 years old and take it with a grain of salt. However, compared to others like FAUST, NOSFERATU, THE CABINET OF DR. CALIGARI, it is clear that Wegener, as a director, wasn't quite as inspired as some of his contemporaries. Most of the images seem flat and the characters are even more one dimensional than your usual silent era cast. The only really chilling scene is the appearance of the demon Astaroth, and while the design of the Golem himself is effective and the outdoor sets of the ghetto are appropriately expressionistic, most of the movie just seems a little too ordinary for what should be a weird, fantastic tale.

Of course you can't watch a German film about a Jewish community made in the 1920s without thinking about it in a socio-political context. Here, my own ignorance about the issues at hand might hinder any kind of useful discussion, but I will share my opinion just the same -- it seems clear the film's primary aim is to entertain and it doesn't smack of having any kind of agenda outside of that. Although the story is partially about anti-Semitism, the filmmaker's themselves don't seem to be willfully anti-Semitic (though Wegener did collaborate with the Nazis later on).

The portrayal of the Rabbi as an astrologer and practitioner of black magic seems to be more in the service of telling this particular story, which calls for a Golem to be created, and not so much an indictment of the religion or culture as a whole. In some ways, it seems miraculous a film about a (mostly) heroic Rabbi who stands up to a Christian Emperor would be made at all, but of course, that's viewing the film through my eyes and not through the eyes of its primary audience, who might have seen it differently.

One way to view the story is that a Rabbi rescues his people by creating a magical protector to stand up against their enemies. Another way to view it would be to say the Rabbi is in league with evil forces and creates a monster who he ultimately can't control. Both are legitimate interpretations that can actually co-exist with each other. Whether either interpretation is intended by the filmmakers to say anything in a larger context, I'm not sure.

Perhaps the movie's biggest crime is that it's simply too shallow to even really enter into these kinds of discussions -- it uses the relatively exotic backdrop of a Jewish community to tell a supernatural story, but isn't really interested at looking into any of the deeper implications of its own story. I'm not sure whether that's to the movie's credit or detriment. Although this film was influential and definitely has its moments, you don't get the sense that there's anything "bigger" going on here like you do when you watch a movie like FAUST or THE CREMATOR.

Horrorfest 2011: The Call of Cthulhu

2011-10-08T08:26:00.000-07:00

Playing the film festival circuit starting in 2005, THE CALL OF CTHULHU is the newest film of Horrorfest 2011. But, guess what? It's still silent, and it's still black and white.

This low budget adaptation of H.P. Lovecraft's well-regarded short story of the same name has an ambitious premise -- what if it was made to look like it was produced in 1926, when the story was originally published? To this end, director Andrew Leman went to interesting and ambitious lengths to reproduce not only the look of the films of the era, but also the style of acting and story-telling that is so unique to the silent era.

Is Leman successful in his attempt? Yes, to an extent. There are moments in which the film plays uncannily like a lost artifact of a bygone era. There are also moments where I felt like I was watching a film shot on video with a couple low-rent visual effects added in the editing process to make it look like it was shot on film, which is exactly what I was watching. The film is most effective in the surreal or fantastic scenes involving expressionistic sets, specifically the many dream sequences and the climactic visit to an uncharted island.

These scenes force the filmmakers to use their imaginations and ingenuity to create weird landscapes that have a timeless quality, like the expressionist films that inspired this one. The other scenes, set in drawing rooms and houses, rely a little too heavily on the idea if you just set the color to "black and white" and throw on some fake film scratches, you don't really have to dress up the set much because it'll cover up anything modern that sneaks in (like fluorescent lights on the ceiling). This is the downside of an otherwise inspired idea. On one hand, it's smart to use the style of a silent film to cover up your budget limitations. On the other, you don't want to rely on that idea as a crutch.

The production value might have gotten a simple boost from an attempt to shoot on actual film, which could have been physically artificially aged and rendered the movie's look perhaps a little closer to what the filmmakers wanted. However, I imagine the use of actual film was cost prohibitive and therefore would have undermined the whole point of the production in the first place.

The actual story involves the son (Matt Foyer) of a dying professor (Ralph Lucas) who inherits the notes, newspaper clippings and journals of his father's lifelong investigation into a mysterious cult. As the son looks over the research, it first looks like a series of unrelated weird disasters and tragic incidents taking place across the globe but eventually comes into focus as an interconnected series of events all tracing back to the mysterious name, Cthulhu. Unrelated cultures and individuals over a span of decades and in a variety of settings have heard Cthulhu's "call" in their dreams, and soon Foyer's character is as obsessed with the investigation as his father was and is bent on getting to the bottom of all this.

While the story-within-a-story concept is far from unheard of, here it gets so convoluted that it is sometimes unintentionally comical -- the son will start reading an account of a meeting his father went to where one guy started telling one story, another guy interrupted, a guy within the story starts telling a story, and so on. Soon we're several layers deep into a bunch of different peoples' stories and there doesn't seem to be an end in sight.

The climactic final scenes involving a group of sailors' encounter with the beast Cthulhu on a deserted island during a torrential sea storm are the most effective scenes of the movie and act as a fitting finale for the slow build of the rest of the story. In a sequence reminiscent of the original KING KONG, the filmmakers use an endless bag of tricks to squeeze as much production value out of this movie as possible. The Cthulhu monster is presented using stop motion photography (I think).

To be honest, I've never fully understood the fascination with "The Cthulhu mythos." This might be because I've never actually read any Lovecraft. But it seems to me there isn't much to the myth -- basically, as I understand it, there's a monster out there, and it's gonna get us. Am I missing something? Apparently this is yet another of those stories that is considered "unfilmable" but it seems like the only unfilmable stories I ever read about are ones that have been filmed to varying degrees of success, so maybe it's time to stop using that term. I'm also a little mystified as to how this movie got so well regarded among horror fans and movie nerds -- it's listed among the top rated horror films on IMDB right alongside bonafide classics that have stood the test of time, but it never even had a theatrical release beyond a couple festivals.

In the end, THE CALL OF CTHULHU stands as an example of what a group of low budget filmmakers can accomplish when they have a little ambition and imagination and don't just rely on teenagers getting slashed. As a horror classic, I don't think it stands up. As an alternative to exploitation filmmaking, I hope it starts a trend and inspires a generation of low budget filmmakers.

Horrorfest 2011: Repulsion

2011-10-06T18:44:00.000-07:00

Roman Polanski's REPULSION is more horrifying than your average horror film precisely because most of the action takes place in the mind of the heroine.

The incredibly beautiful Catherine Deneuve stars as a shy, awkward Belgian girl living in London. She shares an apartment with her older sister (Yvonne Furneaux) who is carrying on an affair with a married man (Ian Hendry). Deneuve pleads tentatively for her sister not to leave her alone in the apartment, but the happy couple heads off on a trip to Italy anyway, leaving the scared girl alone with her thoughts.

REPULSION is one of the most effective attempts to show the inner workings of the human mind on the big screen that I've ever seen. Although REPULSION deals with a young woman's descent into outright, violent insanity, which thankfully few of us will ever experience, anyone who has had a long, dark, lonely night should be able to identify at least a little bit. Polanski takes the trappings of the known -- an ordinary, every day apartment -- and makes it into a house of horrors. Food rots, the bathtub overflows, the noises from the street intrude, the telephone and the doorbell rudely interrupt the silence, and even cracks in the walls seem to menace Deneuve.

Most of Deneuve's hang-ups seem to stem from interactions with the opposite sex. She is clearly frightened and unsure of every day interactions with men, and suffers disturbing nightmare images of rape. This can be read as both a somewhat antiquated take on the idea of sexual repression getting the better of an unstable young woman and as an illustration of what the victims of trauma and abuse go through when they haven't been able heal.

The film moves along at a slow, deliberate pace, with minimal dialogue, as the camera lingers on still images as if it is waiting patiently for all hell to break loose. There are just enough surreal scares thrown in to keep the viewer on edge. The pace begins to pick up towards the end of the film, however, and before we know it, the once seemingly normal apartment has transformed from a lonely prison into a gory crime scene.

I can already tell this is the kind of film that's going to haunt me for a while. The sullen, lost look on the poor girl's face in her childhood photograph at the end of the film doesn't really solve any mysteries, but, in a way, it tells the whole story.

Horrorfest 2011: The Unknown

2011-10-05T23:44:00.001-07:00

Now we go back to the silents for THE UNKNOWN, starring the actor most synonymous with silent horror, Lon Chaney. THE UNKNOWN was directed by Tod Browning, who later went on to define the first wave of American talkie horror with the Bela Lugosi version of DRACULA, and gained a cult following for daring to film the controversial FREAKS.

THE UNKNOWN actually has a lot in common with FREAKS, since they both take place in a circus setting and feature circus freaks as main characters. They also both involve love triangles that lead to violence. Comparing the films, it's interesting to note that although THE UNKNOWN does not have the controversial reputation of FREAKS and is not as viscerally terrifying because of its slick, polished, big studio feel, on paper it actually contains a more despicable and horrifying villain.

Lon Chaney stars as Alonzo the Armless, a circus freak with no arms who performs in an act where he uses his feet to throw knives and fire a gun at a pretty showgirl (Joan Crawford). Meanwhile, the strong man (Norman Kerry) is hopelessly in love with the showgirl and can't keep his hands off of her, much to her dismay. Even though she's kind of into him, she's sick of dudes pawing her all throughout her life and has developed an aversion to that kind of attention. This is why she hangs out with Alonzo, who, not having any arms, is "safe." Of course, Alonzo's in love with the showgirl, too, but he's strictly in the friend zone.

Interestingly, both the strongman and the showgirl are shown to be fairly innocent, good-hearted people. Alonzo is a sympathetic character as well, early on, though we get glimpses that he harbors deep resentment and anger and there are early hints that he is capable of violence. This is a perfect dichotomy for Chaney, known as the man of 1,000 faces, to play, because although he doesn't wear crazy makeup in this film as he was known to do in several of his roles, he does go through a magnificent range of emotions before our eyes, smoothly transitioning from a puppy dog face one moment to a grimace of violent rage the next.

I feel a little repetitive since in almost every review I say, "Not to give too much away. . .," or something along those lines, but I have to say it again here because one of the things I liked about this movie was how unpredictable it was. So, I'm not really going to be able to tell you how awesome this movie is -- because of the slim chance that you might actually go watch it, I don't want to ruin the good parts for you. Within 10 minutes of the movie starting I was already surprised by a twist, and the twists kept coming. A few of the later twists that were more obvious weren't really let downs because they show a knack for storytelling that inspires awe and respect rather than coming off as contrived as they really are.

Aside from throwing knives and shooting guns, there are a few pretty neat tricks here where Chaney seems to light cigarettes and smoke them with his feet. Apparently this is a bit of trickery and it's really the top half of Chaney interacting with the bottom half of armless foot double Paul Desmuke. Still, its totally convincing and just adds to the overall weirdness of the whole story.

THE UNKNOWN is short, simple and direct, densely packed with intense scenes and entertaining twists. Tod Browning and Lon Chaney really knew what they were doing.

Horrorfest 2011: The Cremator

2011-10-05T19:19:00.001-07:00

Now we're back in the 60s with THE CREMATOR, a Czech film once banned from its homeland. That's two banishments so far for Horrorfest 2011. Not bad.

THE CREMATOR takes place in Prague in the 1930s on the eve of Nazi occupation. The cremator in question is Kopfrkingl (Rudolf Hrusinsky), a family man who takes his job very seriously while also openly enjoying it. A fan of the Tibetan Book of the Dead, Kopfrkingl believes the sooner a dead body can get "back to dust," the sooner it can be free from Earthly suffering, closer to enlightenment, and ready for reincarnation. So, as he pushes the option of cremation on prospective future clients, he argues, why rot underground for years when you cremation can get it taken care of in a little over an hour?

At first Kopfrkingl is portrayed as proud of his family's assimilation in Czech culture -- they only speak the native language at home and the kids go to Czech schools. However, Kopfrkingl's old war buddy from Austria (Ilja Prachar) begins to convince him otherwise -- if the Germans are definitely coming, why not join them? This leads Kopfrkingl, who is already an obsessive when it comes to cleanliness, social standing and overall image, to become preoccupied with his own "racial purity" and that of his family -- what will the political changing tides mean for his half-Jewish wife (Vlasta Chramostova) and his weak, effeminate son (Milos Vognic)? The pathetic thing is, Kopfrkingl doesn't just start to change his mind to save his own ass -- he's also tempted by the "perks" of being a party member, for example, potential access to better whores than he was previously used to.

From the first frame of the film, it is clear that Kopfrkingl is a creep. What's not clear is just how deep his creepiness might go. Rudolf Hrusinsky's masterful performance carries the piece. Here is an insane monster who uses the changing society around him to indulge his own power mad, self glorifying fantasies. He presents himself as cultured but is obsessed with the surface of things. Just one look at his face betrays the front he's putting on and shows him for the smarmy, slimy, cowardly, calculating, hypocritical fraud he is. Perhaps the most unsettling thing about this character and performance is how realistic and believable it is. This is no supernatural monster. This is the kind you might have met before without even knowing it. For about half the movie I was trying to figure out who he kept reminding me of and then I finally figured it out -- Ricky Gervais at his worst. Someone should cast that guy in a horror movie.

Believe it or not, THE CREMATOR is not just a horror film or a political allegory -- it is also a very dark comedy. A lot of the earlier passages exploring the "normal" daily family and work life of Kopfrkingl work not just as a study of a disturbed mind, but also a kind of societal satire, picking apart get togethers and social conventions with a sharp wit. This is one of the genius strokes of the screenplay -- you can laugh at the transparent nature of Kopfrkingl, who thinks he has everyone fooled, while also being freaked out by him, since we, as the audience, know more about him than his friends and family do.

We're told a lot about Kopfrkingl through the way the film is edited. There are lots of jump cuts to images that are either jarring or simply don't fit into the larger context of whatever scene we're in the middle of -- signs that Kopfrkingl's obsessive mind is not only all over the place, but focusing inappropriately on the wrong things at the wrong time. We get glimpses that assure us his sexual urges are unsettling and that his interest in his job is, in fact, just as creepy as it seems to be on the surface.

The film is also meticulously crafted from the screenplay up with smooth, efficient transitions that allow for a perfect pace. You can tell from the way one scene moves into another that it was planned out carefully on the page, and that it was even incorporated into blocking of the action on the set, as a character or prop figures prominently from one scene to the next. Then, the editing snaps it together with a well timed voice over, so we think we're hearing someone speak in one context only to find out they're speaking in an entirely new and different one. All of this both makes the film work effortlessly while keeping the audience on edge.

I'm sure it was obvious even in the late 60s, but public consciousness about the particulars of the Holocaust, thanks in part to Hollywood, is probably even stronger today than they were at the time this film was made. So, it does not take a genius to see some potential connections between our cremator main character and the Nazis' preferred method of body disposal on a genocidal scale. And I assure you, in THE CREMATOR, these connections are not ignored.

Horrorfest 2011: Faust

2011-10-04T22:35:00.001-07:00

Let's head back to Germany for FAUST, the first silent film of Horrorfest 2011. This is another film from F.W. Murnau, who directed SUNRISE from Romancefest 2011 and, more importantly, NOSFERATU -- perhaps the greatest horror film of them all.

FAUST stars Emil Jannings as Mephisto, a chief demonic agent of Satan (or maybe Satan himself, I'm a little unclear on this) who makes a wager with an archangel (Werner Fuetterer) that he can turn an otherwise pious man against God. An alchemist named Faust (Gosta Ekman) is the human who becomes the center of this bet. Faust is a seemingly wise, aged scholar who is struggling to save the people of his village from a plague brought by Mephisto. He uses both prayer and his knowledge of alchemy in an attempt to develop a cure, but finds both methods are useless and, in a fit of rage and desperation, renounces God while burning both his science books and his holy scriptures.

Faust eventually summons Mephisto at a crossroads, and Mephisto makes a deal with Faust -- Faust can sign a one day contract with Mephisto for unlimited power and glory in exchange for renouncing God and praising Satan. If he's not into it after one day, the contract is over. If he wants to continue, he belongs to Mephisto for life. Sounds simple enough, but of course, Mephisto has a lot of tricks up his sleeve, first giving Faust the ability to cure the sick people in his village, and following that up with the promise to give Faust youth and offers to let Faust live a life of pleasure that he never got to experience the first time around. The clock's ticking and Faust has to decide -- go back to being an old man, or have everything in life he missed out on the first time.

Anyway, I don't want to go too much more into the plot because this is one of those "one damn thing after another" movies -- every time you think the plot is going one way, something else comes up and the movie changes its course. Suffice it to say that Faust's deal with Mephisto eventually comes into conflict with Faust's attempts at true love and happiness with the beautiful and innocent small town girl Gretchen (Camilla Horn).

As with all of Murnau's movies, the great stuff here does not really concern the story. The story is just an excuse to create mind bending special effects and awesome images. Thanks to the fantasy and horror elements, Murnau is able to go overboard with all kinds of crazy in-camera special effects involving multiple exposures, miniature models, and menacing costumes. The special effects are wide-ranging. We have an early shot of some apocalyptic horsemen, an image of Mephisto towering over the small village and enveloping it with his wings, a scene in which a contract seems to write itself in fire right before our eyes, a creepy negative shot (I think) of Mephisto while he transforms Faust into a young man using black magic, and an endless shot of Mephisto and Faust flying by fields, mountains and villages as they travel the Earth.

Similarly to NOSFERATU, which famously starred Max Schreck as possibly the most revolting and creepy vampire ever put on screen, Murnau gets a lot of mileage out of casting the right guy as Mephisto. Emil Jannings isn't as outright horrifing as Schreck is in NOSFERATU, but he does perfectly encapsulate the slimy nature of the double-dealing devil. He has three distinct looks in the movie -- as a towering demon, an old man, and a younger gentleman. The "younger gentleman" look is totally sordid, with his black, slicked back hair, pasty face and awkwardly fitting cape. In fact, Mephisto looks enough like Lugosi's Dracula in a couple shots that I wonder if this was a direct inspiration on the later Universal classic?

Like most silent films, a modern viewer, whether well versed in film history or not, should probably adjust his or her expectations before sitting down to watch FAUST. After all, the movie is 85 years old, and a lot of stuff has changed in those 85 years. Still, the images alone make FAUST as cutting edge now as it was in its day.

Horrorfest 2011: Kwaidan

2011-10-03T20:50:00.000-07:00

What do you say we follow up a Japanese horror flick from 1964 with another Japanese horror flick from 1964? Despite the fact that it comes from the same time and place and belongs in the same genre, KWAIDAN couldn't be more different from ONIBABA. In fact, the two films are nearly opposites. Where ONIBABA is short, brutal, gritty, and black and white KWAIDAN is long, lyrical, lavish and in full blazing color. ONIBABA seems more contemporary and cutting edge for its time, while KWAIDAN feels like a throwback or even homage to the golden age of Hollywood. Most of ONIBABA takes place in natural locations while most of KWAIDAN takes place on giant indoor sets. And so on. The two movies even share an actor, Kei Sato, who has a major role in ONIBABA but only appears as a secondy character in KWAIDAN.

KWAIDAN is an anthology movie that spends just shy of 3 hours telling 4 different ghost stories. The first, THE BLACK HAIR, tells the tale of a poverty stricken samurai (Rentaro Mikuni) who is unhappy with his marriage and leaves his wife (Michiyo Aratama) for a more luxurious life. Unfortunately, the samurai is also unhappy in his new marriage, and heads home for a happy reunion with his first wife only to find that a ghastly change has taken place in his absence.

The next story, THE WOMAN IN THE SNOW, is about a woodcutter (Tatsuya Nakadai) lost in a snow storm whose life is spared by an icy female spirit (Keiko Kishi) on the condition that he never tells anyone he has seen her. The woodcutter lives on to meet the girl of his dreams only to find out she's not who she seems.

In HOICHI THE EARLESS, we meet a blind minstrel named Hoichi (Katsuo Nakamura) who is summoned by ghostly warriors to sing the ballads of their long lost wars. When the minstrel's masters attempt to protect him from the spirits, their plan backfires with ghoulish consequences.

The final story, IN A CUP OF TEA, is kind of a story within a story in which a writer imagines a tale of a samurai (Kan'emon Nakamura) who defiantly drinks a cup of tea containing the soul of another warrior (Noboru Nakaya) only to be tormented by mischievous ghosts. The story ends abruptly as we find out the writer of this story never finished his tale and that the supernatural elements may have crossed over into the real world.

While this movie is beautiful to look at and an undeniably amazing technical achievement, it is almost unbearably slow. Maybe it would have been better to watch one segment at a time over a few days, or maybe the first two segments in one sitting and the last two in another, because the near 3 hour running time definitely tried my patience. On top of the movie actually being long, it also relies almost entirely on moody suspense and long quiet set ups to make the horrific moments pay off, so this only drags the movie out even longer. I realize this kind of talk is probably bordering on heresy to some movie nerds, but I gotta tell it like I see it.

Still, I'm glad I saw the movie for some of its great images. Like I mentioned before, almost the whole thing is shot on extravagant, gigantic indoor sets. There isn't much attempt to make the sets look real -- they look more like something out of a fantasy (or nightmare) than anything you might see in real life, which is perfect for the film's themes. There are some pretty crazy background paintings depicting regular things, like sunsets, all the way to ominous evil eyes overlooking the action from above. There's also a cool-looking samurai battle at sea which never looks for a moment like it's not in a water tank on a studio set, but somehow benefits from this. It's almost like seeing a full color version of one of those expressionist silent flicks. The unique images even extend to the actors themselves, whose makeup changes depending on the height of their supernatural experiences. There's even poor Hoichi the minstrel who has Japanese characters painted on every inch of his body (except, notably, his ears).

KWAIDAN is a commitment to sit through, and you might have to take a few breaks, but if you ever get around to it you'll probably never see anything else like it. I know I haven't.

Horrorfest 2011: Onibaba

2011-10-03T16:36:00.000-07:00

ONIBABA takes place in medieval Japan as the country is torn apart by war. Opposing generals set their Samurai warriors against each other and armies kidnap helpless peasant men from their farms and force them to enlist. A young woman (Jitsuko Yoshimura) loses her husband in the war and is forced to scrape together what food and resources she can by teaming up with her mother in law (Nobuko Otowa) to kill samurai warriors who wander through their part of the swamp, strip them of their armor and weapons, and sell the goods on the black market to a crooked local merchant (Taiji Tonoyama). Together, the two women dispose of the samurai bodies in an ominous, mysterious, deep, dark hole hidden in the tall grass surrounding their home.

This daily routine is interrupted when a male peasant named Hachi (Kei Sato) escapes the war and returns home. He simultaneously butts into their morbid business and unabashedly attempts to woo the young woman, much to her mother in law’s disapproval and jealousy.

A chance encounter with a demon-masked samurai general (Jukichi Uno) gives the mother in law an idea for a plan to scare her daughter in law off of the love affair for good, taking advantage of cultural superstition in the process. Unfortunately, the demon mask may not just be a mask, and the superstitions may have something to them.

The story doesn’t really veer into horror territory until the last reel or so, with the arrival of the demon-masked samurai, who is definitely creepy. However, the whole set up puts the viewer ill at ease from the beginning, thanks in part to the eclectic musical score that seems to be at odds with what might normally be considered music. But the unease is mostly due to the setting, what with the restless rustling of the tall grass, the mysterious hole filled with dead samurai bodies, and the way the central characters constantly eye each other with suspicion. When they’re eating, they huddle around their food like abused animals, as if they’re afraid someone’s going to swoop in and take it from them. When they sleep, they keep one eye open.

ONIBABA is further proof that you don’t have to be trashy to be a horror film. This Japanese film has enough over the top drama and eroticism to put the pulpiest novel or grittiest grindhouse flick to shame. But it’s shot in immaculate black and white in magnificent nature settings and every scene takes place in waving grass fields where the blades tower over the heads of the people who live there. So, the horror story unfolds in the shadow of beautiful scenery, which elevates a relatively simple story of lust, murder, jealousy, making the film at once more surreal and more beautiful than many otherwise thematically similar horror flicks, a juxtaposition, which, in turn, makes the horror that much uglier.

Horrorfest 2011: The Testament of Dr. Mabuse

2011-10-02T22:36:00.000-07:00

Banned in Germany upon its first release in 1933 and never fully appreciated in the U.S. until the 1970s, THE TESTAMENT OF DR. MABUSE was cinematic genius Fritz Lang's second sound-era film after the classic Peter Lorre crime thriller, M. Like M, MABUSE features the character of Inspector Lohman (Otto Wernicke), making the film a bit of a pseudo-sequel. It's a more direct sequel to Lang's earlier DR. MABUSE: THE GAMBLER, a film I have never seen but should now add to my must-see list.

Aside from M, I've also seen one of Lang's other masterpieces many times, the sci-fi epic METROPOLIS. MABUSE shares many qualities with Lang's earlier efforts -- they all tell stories utilizing the many layers of an urban society, from top to bottom, and they're all set in dark and ominous locations. MABUSE has the gangland and police procedural angles of M and the expressionistic dream-like elements of METROPOLIS.

One thing MABUSE has that the others do not have is a supernatural element. But, I'm getting ahead of the plot -- the Mabuse of the title (Rudolf Klein-Rogge) is a criminal mastermind who has been held in an insane asylum for years, under the study of Professor Baum (Oscar Beregi, Sr.). Mostly catatonic, all Mabuse does is sit up in his bed and write endless pages of a criminal manifesto -- a sort of criminal genius' how-to guide for a variety of perfect crimes, ultimately leading up to the destruction of society, and maybe even mankind, through the acts of senseless chaos -- crime for crime's sake. Mabuse is one of the first of many super villains who would later be commonly found in comic books and Saturday morning cartoons (and later, big budget movies based on the same).

Mabuse's written ramblings are somehow making their way out of the asylum and manifesting themselves as actual plots in an intricate criminal underworld that is slowly but surely taking over the city. Among these criminals is Kent (Gustav Diessl) who has turned to crime as a result of the shitty economy, but starts to balk when the crimes veer towards violence, and is tempted to give it all up to run away with his sweetheart (Wera Liessem).

The afore-mentioned Inspector Lohman, a cranky but brilliant criminal investigator, becomes interested in the investigation when Hofmeister (Karl Meixner), a once promising cop who has since fallen from grace, contacts him with some leads. Unfortunately, before Lohman knows what has happened, Hofmeister is behind the bars of Baum's insane asylum, creepily chattering to himself in his cell.

I promised a supernatural element before. Without giving away too much, let's just say there are a couple ghosts walking around and that Mabuse might have some telepathic powers beyond that of your average every day criminal mastermind. Then again, maybe the ghosts are the figments of a crazed imagination? Maybe Mabuse isn't telepathic after all? You never know.

Most of the movie plays like a somewhat melodramatic police procedural. A lot of this is the stuff of movie serials -- an untouchable villain dispatching his endless hordes of henchman to ravage the city, while our heroes go through several cliffhangers, car chases, and explosions. The difference is, here we've got great production values, intricate plotting and ambiguously creepy moments instead of solved mysteries.

My favorite part was Karl Meixner's performance as the ex-cop apparently driven insane by Dr. Mabuse. He sings this creepy "Gloria" song whenever he becomes afraid, in a wavering, child-like voice. The use of the song here is somewhat reminiscent of the use of the child killer's whistling in M and similarly never failed to send a chill down my spine.

There's an interesting dichotomy in this film between the mundane and even gritty settings of warehouses, the street thug characters, the matter of fact cops and the more supernatural or comic booky elements of the story. One set, in particular, takes full advantage of this dichotomy -- an abandoned room in which the criminals receive their instructions from the mastermind, again, presumably Mabuse, who literally sits behind a curtain. One half of the room looks like an authentic abandoned room in a bombed out building, with peeling wallpaper and a bricked up window. The other half of the room is the territory of afternoon serials, with a row of lights illuminating a shadowy figure behind a curtain, who commands his minions with an authoritative (maybe even hypnotic?) voice.

I was glad to see another of Lang's films, albeit a less famous one than either M or METROPOLIS. In some ways, MABUSE is a little less ground breaking than its predecessors because it's simply not as flashy or gimmicky. But, in other ways, MABUSE is way ahead of its time in the way it uses several levels of a complex social system to carefully allow its story to unfold without hitting the audience over the head with too much explanation. In this way, MABUSE has more in common with the film so the latter half of the 20th century than it does with its contemporaries, which might explain why it took so long to get some recognition.

Horrorfest 2011: The Fly (1986)

2011-10-01T22:45:00.000-07:00

It's time for Horrorfest 2011. Like last October and the October before it, in honor of Halloween, I'm going to watch 31 horror movies in 31 days. Like last year, I'm going to stick to movies I haven't seen before. And guess what? I've never seen THE FLY!

I wrote about the original THE FLY during Horrorfest 2009. This year it's the 1986 remake directed by David Cronenberg. I've seen a few Cronenberg flicks in my day, ranging from ones I really like (VIDEODROME) to ones I could do without (CRASH). Like many of the flicks I end up watching during these "fests" THE FLY is the type of movie I kind of feel like I've basically seen before even if I haven't ever actually gotten around to watching the whole thing. Being a movie nerd, I've heard about THE FLY enough to know what I was getting into.

THE FLY stars Jeff Goldblum as an eccentric scientist (a role he'd be stuck playing the rest of his life) who has created a teleportation system with one flaw -- it doesn't seem to work on living flesh. Geena Davis is an ambitious journalist who wants to write the definitive chronicle of the creation of this miraculous device. Davis' creepy boss (John Getz) is still leering around, hoping to rekindle a previous affair between the two. Unfortunately for him, Davis would rather bone Goldblum and the two get to knocking boots right quick, between experiments.

Of course, the titular fly gets into the teleportation device with Goldblum and everything goes wrong. At first his body seems to react positively to the fusion of the human an insect genetics, but eventually his body starts disintegrating piece by piece as a monster emerges from beneath his own skin.

As usual, with Cronenberg, a lot of the material deals with the philosophical implications of what the physical world means -- what makes a human? How do we tick? What are the barriers between the outside world and the world inside of us? Are there any barriers at all? Are we just kidding ourselves? Etc.

And, as usual, all that stuff is interesting. THE FLY benefits from having a lurid plot torn from the pages of pulp sci-fi magazines and the makeup and special effects guys make sure the movie wallows extravagantly in these exploitative origins. This keeps the movie from ever taking itself too seriously or ever falling too neatly into any single paint by numbers plot -- sure, it's horror and it's sci-fi, but it also doesn't have clear heroes or villains and has its fair share of laughs along with scares. So, Cronenberg gets to have his high brow explorations while deftly avoiding the pitfall of boring the audience.

Probably the most terrifying scene in the movie involves a Geena Davis dream sequence in a clinical setting. I don't want to give it away, but it definitely counts as "horror."

Towards the end of the flick things do start getting potentially too ridiculous, but luckily as Goldblum's monster mad scientist spirals out of control, the movie comes to a swift close, and never gives the audience a chance to really question what's going on.

All in all, a good start to Horrorfest 2011 -- it was a good flick, a movie I've meant to see for a while, a remake to a flick I've already seen, and I can check another entry off the list in a famous filmmaker's body of work that I intend to see more of . Should be a good month.

Bedtime story

2011-07-26T19:27:00.001-07:00

Here's a bedtime story I made up a few weeks ago. Like most bedtime stories, I imagine it loses some of its charm once it is written down. So, do me a favor: just imagine it has more charm, if that's possible.

Once upon a time there was a far away kingdom ruled by a kindly King. His castle overlooked a beautiful lake. On the other side of the lake was a mountain range that reached all the way to the clouds. Above the clouds, on top of the tallest mountain, there lived a Dragon who spent his days hoarding treasure.

Legend had it that if a hero was brave enough to confront the dragon, the hero would have the choice between either taking the riches or having one wish granted by the Dragon's magic. But no hero had dared to try to cross the lake, which was as treacherous as it was beautiful, or climb the mountains, which were as steep as they were majestic, or ascend through the clouds, which were as stormy as they were heavenly.

The King had one daughter. She was a beautiful Princess and ever since she was a newborn, the King had loved her so much that he would kiss each of her delicate and dainty little fingers before she went to sleep. The Princess grew over the course of a few years from a baby to a little girl, and every night the King would give each of her fingers a kiss before she went to bed.

The Dragon on the top of the mountain heard tales of the King and his beautiful daughter and the nightly finger kisses and grew angry. After his days of hoarding, the Dragon return to his den, where he lived alone, and struggled to sleep every night. It wasn't fair, he thought, that the Princess should have someone to kiss her fingers until she fell asleep, while he should sit in his den on top of the mountains and toss and turn all night. The angrier the Dragon got, the more violent his daily treasure hunts became, until he was feared throughout the kingdom.

The Cloud people, who lived in the clouds, feared his mighty wings that caused great wind storms. The Rock people, who lived on the sides of the mountains, feared his claws, for they tore through stone like it was paper. The Water people, who lived in the lake, feared the Dragon's fiery breath, for it was hot enough to evaporate even the bravest Water Warrior. The Cloud people, Rock people and Water people could not agree to form an alliance to fight the dragon, however, because of centuries of fighting and petty differences. The King's army of men had similar differences with the various tribes of the kingdom and couldn't face the Dragon alone, either.

One day the Princess asked her father, "Daddy, why does the Dragon attack the people of our kingdom?"

"You are a lucky little girl who gets a royal kiss on each of her royal fingers every night to help you go to sleep," the King explained to his daughter. "The Dragon is on top of the mountain by himself and has no one to kiss his fingers until he falls asleep. He is lonely and spiteful and takes it out on everyone in the kingdom."

"Why doesn't someone go kiss his fingers, then?" the Princess asked.

"If anyone approached the Dragon, they'd be burnt by his fire breath and slashed by his claws, and if they weren't dead by then, he'd fly them high into the sky with his mighty wings and drop them from a great height," the King said. "No one dares."

"If I went to visit the Dragon, I would be so nice that he wouldn't be able to attack me," the Princess said. "Then, I'd give him kisses on his fingers so he could get a good night's sleep, and once he gets a good night's sleep, he will stop attacking the people of our kingdom. Anyway, he's right -- it isn't fair that I should get kisses on my fingers while he should live a life alone in his cave."

"You are a good hearted girl," the King said. "But you mustn't ever try to visit the Dragon. It's too dangerous. No matter how nice you are, he would attack you. That is why he doesn't have any friends."

"Has anyone been nice to him before?" the Princess asked.

"I don't know," the King said. "I suppose not."

"Well, then, how do we know what would happen?" the Princess asked.

"I refuse to risk it," the King said. "And if I must, then I hereby forbid you from leaving the castle grounds."

That night, though the King kissed each of the Princess' dainty fingers, she still tossed and turned. She couldn't stop thinking about the lonely Dragon. She also couldn't stop thinking about the innocent people of the kingdom who suffered daily attacks from the angry Dragon. She woke up early the next morning, packed a basket with bread, cheese and milk, and snuck out of the castle grounds to start her journey.

She had chosen a nice summer day for her travels. The birds chirped and the trees rustled in the light breeze. She stuck to the main trail and eventually came upon the beautiful lake. The blue sky reflected off of the calm water and she could see the mountains rising on the other side. The Princess untied one of the royal row boats from the dock and started rowing across.

About halfway across the lake the water suddenly became rough and the boat was tossed about. The Princess gave up rowing and concentrated on just trying to stay inside the boat. It wasn't long before she was washed over board and felt herself being dragged down into the murky depths. Just when the Princess thought all was lost, she felt something pushing her up, up and up, and before she knew it she broke through the surface and landed on the sandy shore at the foot of the mountains. She spit out some water and looked around. She could see the castle all the way on the other side of the lake. At first she thought she had lost her basket but suddenly she spotted it floating safely across the surface of the water. Before it was deposited on the shore in front of her, a watery form rose up around it, slowly taking the shape of a man, who stepped out of the lake, and handed the basket to her.

"You should be careful," the man made of water said. "The water people don't like trespassers and will do anything to keep their lake safe. That's why you were tossed overboard. I noticed you were just a little girl, though, and called off the troops."

"You must be a Water Warrior," the Princess said.

"That's right," the man made of water said. "What are you doing so far away from the castle where the other men made of meat and bone live?"

The Princess explained her mission -- to meet the Dragon, give his fingers kisses, and save the kingdom. The Water Warrior shook his head.

"The Dragon will burn you with his fiery breath," the Water Warrior said. "You must return home."

"I made it this far," the Princess said. "All I have to do now is climb the mountain, go up through the clouds, and kiss the Dragon's fingers."

"Ha," the Water Warrior said. "You make it sound easy. You're foolish, but brave. I will accompany you on your quest as your bodyguard and if the Dragon should try to burn you with his fiery breath, I will use my water powers to put out the flame."

"Oh, thank you!" the Princess said.

Before departing on her journey, the Princess sat down and had a nice little picnic of bread, cheese and milk. She offered some of her provisions to the Water Warrior, but he laughed and shook his head.

"Those things are only for men of meat and bone!" the Water Warrior said.

After lunch, the Princess and the Water Warrior started the climb up the mountains. They were making quick time and decided they'd stop to rest once they reached the place where the clouds touched the trail. They were about halfway to their resting point when the mountains began to rumble and large rocks rolled down from above and rained down upon them.

"I will shield you!" the Water Warrior said, trying to block the Princess from danger. But, it was useless, and the rocks crashed right through his watery body.

Just when it looked like all was lost, a group of rocks nearby rolled together and rose up to form the outline of a man, who used his massive rock arms to bat the falling boulders away. The mountain stopped rumbling and the man made of rock turned to face the Water Warrior and the Princess.

"Run, little girl!" the Water Warrior said. "It's a Rock Warrior! You can't trust them!"

"But he saved my life," the Princess said.

"My rock troops attacked you because you have unlawfully entered our kingdom," the Rock Warrior said. "But I called off the attack because I saw you were just a little girl. What are

you doing so far from home?"

The Princess explained her mission to kiss the Dragon's fingers, and explained how the Water Warrior had helped her across the lake and vowed to protect her from the Dragon's fire.

"That is a more noble vow than I would have thought a Water Warrior would make," the Rock Warrior said. "All I've ever known Water Warriors to do is to erode my people and turn us into sand."

"Well, all you Rock Warriors ever do is keep us Water Warriors contained and tell us where to go and what to do," the Water Warrior said.

"I never thought of that," the Rock Warrior replied. "Princess, I must protest your plan to kiss the Dragon's fingers. Even if the Water Warrior douses his flame, he will cut you up into little ribbons with his claws -- razor sharp claws on the very fingers you intend to kiss."

"Never the less," the Princess said, "I must try. I can't stand to think of the Dragon all alone up there with no one to kiss his fingers. It's no wonder he throws tantrums."

"So be it," the Rock Warrior said. "I will join you on your quest, and if he tries to cut you with his claws I will break his claws with my rock hard skin."

Then the Rock Warrior knelt down and said, "Climb on my back, Princess, and I will carry you the rest of the way up the mountain."

So, the three travelers continued up the mountain until they reached the place where the clouds touched the trail. There they stopped, and the Princess got some more bread and cheese and milk out of her basket and made a nice little dinner.

"The Water Warrior does not eat," the Princess told the Rock Warrior. "But you must be famished after carrying me all this way."

"Oh, no," the Rock Warrior said. "This the Water Warrior and I have in common. We do not eat like men of meat and bone."

After the Princess was done eating, she had a little nap. The Rock Warrior and the Water Warrior got to talking, since neither of them had to sleep and there was nothing to do but sit there and watch the Princess.

"You know, Rock Warrior, I've been thinking," the Water Warrior said. "I think I like rocks the best when I flow by little smooth stones in a shallow brook. It makes me feel so nice I can't help but babble. I suppose rocks aren't all bad."

"I was thinking also," said the Rock Warrior. "And I suppose water isn't so bad either. Why, I once had a nasty bump on my elbow and after just a few thousand years of erosion, it smoothed right out."

After the Princess awoke, the three travelers continued on the trail into the clouds. They climbed and climbed and couldn't tell how close they were to the top of the mountain because of the white fog all around them. Soon the fog began to turn gray, and eventually thunder and lightning clapped and the wind began to howl fiercely. The three companions tried to brave it, leaning against the wind with their arms covering their faces, but each gust was more blustery than the last and threatened to blow them right off the side of the mountain.

"We better wait for the storm to die down," the Rock Warrior said.

But, no sooner had he said that, than a giant gust came along and blew the Princess right off the trail and into the air. The Rock Warrior and the Water Warrior gasped and watched helplessly as the wind tossed the Princess about, certain they'd see her crash to the ground below. Before that could happen, a cloud that was whiter than the other gray ones, appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and acted as a cushion, gently catching the Princess and lifting her up out of the storm. As the wind and thunder and lightning died down, the Rock Warrior and the Water Warrior raced up the trail to find where the white cloud had taken the Princess.

They came upon the Princess at the top of the mountain, where a man made of clouds stood talking to her.

"Get back!" the Rock Warrior warned. "It's a Cloud Warrior!"

"They're the worst!" the Water Warrior said. "Much worse than Rock Warriors!"

"Yes," the Rock Warrior agreed. "And, much worse than Water Warriors!"

"I would have commanded my troops to cast all of you down to the ground below," the Cloud Warrior said. "But, I saw that it was just a little girl, very far from home, and I called my Cloud Warriors off. Now, girl, what were you telling me before? You want to kiss the Dragon's fingers?"

"That's right," the Princess said. "Then, he will get a good night's sleep, and he will be less lonely, and he will stop attacking the kingdom."

"Admirable goal," the Cloud Warrior said. "But dreadfully naive. Do you know how many would be heroes I've seen the Dragon grab in his claws, fly up into the sky with his mighty wings, and then drop from a great height? Even if this Water Warrior can douse his flame and this Rock Warrior can break his claws, you won't stand a chance."

"Still," the Princess said. "I must try. I feel so guilty, getting kisses on each of my fingers every night before I go to bed. Why should I get all the finger kisses? Dragons need finger kisses, too."

"Well, if you're so convinced, then there's nothing I can do to stop you," the Cloud Warrior said. "I don't have to stand by and watch you get killed, though. I will go with you, and if the Dragon tries to drop you from a great height, then I will catch you like a cushion and float you safely to the ground. Just one thing."

"Yes?" the Princess asked.

"Do those two guys have to come along?" the Cloud Warrior asked, pointing at the Rock Warrior and the Water Warrior.

"Why not?" the Princess said. "They're my friends."

"Well, for one thing, the Rock Warriors make caves deep in the Earth where air can't even go. That's not fair," the Cloud Warrior said. "For another, Water Warriors evaporate up into the clouds and make us so full we eventually burst. It hurts."

"Yeah, well, you're no prize," the Rock Warrior said, "Cloud Warriors blow Water Warriors all about, don't they?"

"Yes," the Water Warrior said. "And Cloud Warriors do their fair share of eroding away at the Rock Warriors, too, don't they?"

"They most certainly do," the Rock Warrior said.

"Rock Warrior," the Princess scolded. "I'm surprised at you. Why, didn't you just say that a couple thousand years of erosion got rid of a nasty bump on your elbow?"

"I guess so," the Rock Warrior said. "I thought you were sleeping."

"I had a fitful nap due to a lack of finger kisses," the Princess said. "Which reminds me -- I think it's time to go meet the dragon if you three please."

So, the four travelers continued down the trail at the top of the mountain until they reached the mouth of the dragon's cave.

"Let's rest here before going in," the Princess said. "It might be my last chance and I want to be as alert as possible when I meet the Dragon. Cloud Warrior, do you want any bread or cheese or milk? I know the Rock Warrior and the Water Warrior do not eat, but I thought I'd offer just in case."

"Oh, no," the Cloud Warrior said. "I don't eat either."

While the Princess tried to nap despite her lack of royal finger kisses, the three warriors got to talking.

"I have to confess," the Cloud Warrior said, "I wasn't totally fair back there. We actually enjoy soaking up the evaporating water and then letting it go again as rain. It's refreshing."

"I wasn't fair either," the Water Warrior said. "It is fun to fly up through the sky and then back down again."

When the Princess woke up, the four travelers walked into the cave, followed winding trails through the darkness and finally came to a door overlooking the Dragon's den. It was a massive room piled high with all kinds of treasure including gold, trinkets and jewels. On top of the pile of treasure, the Dragon sat, tossing and turning fitfully.

"Wish me luck," the Princess said.

"Wait," the Water Warrior said. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

"We wouldn't blame you if you backed out," the Rock Warrior said.

"No one in the kingdom would be any worse off than they are now," the Cloud Warrior said.

"I have to do it," the Princess said. "The Dragon deserves love, just like me."

As soon as the Dragon spotted the Princess coming towards him, he got up off of his pile of treasure and lumbered down to meet her. He was a massive lizard like creature with a long snaky neck, two massive feet with sharp claws, and two tiny arms with even sharper claws. He had big leathery wings folded behind him, lethal looking spines running down his back, and red eyes.

"Who dares come for my treasure?" the Dragon said. "More fools who wish to be destroyed? The only thing I have in the entire world, the only thing I can call my own, and you want to take it from me?"

"No, you misunderstand," the Princess said. "I have heard of your troubles. You are lonely and angry and you can't sleep at night. You have heard I get kisses on my fingers and night to put me to sleep and you wonder why you don't get to have kisses. That is why I'm here -- to give you the finger kisses you deserve."

"I don't need your charity," the Dragon said. "I don't need your pity. And I won't fall for your tricks. Sure as I allow you to come close to kiss my fingers, your companions will steal my treasure and I will have nothing."

With that, the Dragon opened his massive jaws, displaying his shining sharp teeth and forked tongue, and unleashed a hot blast of fire. The flames bellowed right towards the Princess, but before she could even scream, the Water Warrior threw himself in the way, dousing the flames. The Water Warrior landed in a puddle on the floor, losing his human shape.

"Thank you, Water Warrior," the Princess said.

"Anything to protect you, little girl," the Water Warrior said. "Only now I fear I'm evaporating away."

And with that, the Water Warrior was no more.

"No matter," the Dragon said, swiping towards the Princess with his massive claws. The Rock Warrior jumped into action, blocking the mighty blow and protecting the princess.

"Thank you, Rock Warrior," the Princess said as the Dragon reeled from the surprise interference.

"You're welcome, little girl," the Rock Warrior said. "But I can feel myself crumbling from the attack."

And with that, the Rock Warrior broke into several pieces, falling to the floor dead.

"Now," the Dragon said, "I will grab you up in my clutches and fly you into the sky where I will drop you from a great height."

He grabbed the Princess and flew high into the air, flapping his mighty wings and laughing maniacally.

"I like to watch you puny people fall," the Dragon said, dropping the Princess.

Before she hit the ground, the Princess landed on the Cloud Warrior, who had formed himself into a nice cushion so he could lower her to the ground gently and safely.

"Thank you, Cloud Warrior," the Princess said.

"Don't thank me yet," the Cloud Warrior said. "All might be lost. The Water Warrior and the Rock Warrior are both gone. You are still vulnerable. The Dragon won't listen to reason. Look, he's about to go on another rampage. I must summon all of my power to knock him out of the sky."

"Don't hurt him!" the Princess screamed as the Cloud Warrior transformed himself into a tornado and blasted across the sky. He rammed into the Dragon, knocking him out of the air. The Dragon crashed on his pile of treasure and rolled to the cave floor, stunned. The Princess looked up in the sky but could find no sign of the Cloud Warrior.

The Princess looked around her. The Dragon was laying on the ground, writhing in agony. There was a wet stain on the cave floor where the Water Warrior had perished. A pile of rocks was all that was left of the Rock Warrior. The air was still as the Cloud Warrior seemed to have been vanquished as well.

The Princess sat on a rock at the mouth of the cave and looked out over the kingdom as the sun set. She could see the castle, far, far away. She thought about her father, the King, and how he was probably pacing around the Castle grounds, worried about her. And, he had been right. Although it had been a great adventure, the Dragon was still not happy, and her new friends were gone forever. The Princess started to cry.

The Dragon heard her crying and sat up to look at her.

"Don't cry, little girl," he said. "Look, you've vanquished me. That means you get to have my treasure. It's all I have, but those are the rules. Anyone who vanquishes me gets to have my treasure."

"I don't want your treasure," the Princess said through her sobs.

"Surely you want my gold and jewels and trinkets. Who wouldn't?" the Dragon said.

"I don't want any of it," the Princess said, tears dropping from her eyes.

"Then why would you come all the way up here?" the Dragon asked.

"I already told you," the Princess said. "All I wanted to do was give you some kisses on your fingers. I thought it would put you to sleep, and that would make you happy, and you'd stop attacking everyone in the kingdom."

The Dragon realized his terrible mistake.

"You mean, you were telling the truth?" the Dragon asked. "But why would you want to kiss my fingers? I'm a dragon!"

"Because," the Princess said. "It's not fair that I have a daddy to kiss my fingers at night and you don't have anyone to kiss yours. I wanted to help you."

The Dragon didn't know what to do. It had never occurred to him that someone might want to help him. Then he remembered something.

"You're also entitled to a wish!" the Dragon said. "If you don't want the treasure, I can grant you a wish."

"I don't want the treasure," the Princess said. "And I don't want a wish. I just want my friends back. I was foolish to lead them into danger."

"Ah, but you see, you just made a wish," the Dragon said. "Whether you wanted to or not. And, I hereby grant it."

With that, the Dragon blinked his red eyes, and with a flash of light the Water Warrior, Rock Warrior and Cloud Warrior suddenly stood before the Princess unharmed.

"You're alive!" she said running to them. They all hugged.

"Ah, it must be nice to have friends," the Dragon said, watching them.

"Thank you, Dragon!" the Princess said. She broke free from the hug and ran straight for the Dragon without hesitation. She wrapped her arms around one of his giant fingers and gave it a big kiss.

"You don't think you could kiss my other fingers, could you?" the Dragon asked.

"Of course I will!" the Princess said, and she kissed each one.

"It feels so nice to be loved!" the Dragon said. And with that, he passed out and took a nap.

"I should rest, too, before I journey all the way home," the Princess said.

While the Princess and the Dragon slept, the three warriors got to talking. The Rock Warrior and the Cloud Warrior filled the Water Warrior in on what happened after he evaporated.

"Good job, guys," the Water Warrior said. "We all made good on our vows, no matter the cost."

"And now, I make a new vow," the Rock Warrior said. "That all Rock Warriors, Cloud Warriors and Water Warriors should be friends, just like the three of us are."

"I second that vow," the Cloud Warrior said.

"Here, here," the Water Warrior agreed.

When the Princess and the Dragon awoke, the Dragon said, "Now, little girl. You have to get home, and I will fly you there. Climb on my back and hold onto one of my plates, and I will take you back to the land of men of meat and bones."

"Thank you," the Princess said. "But first, I must eat breakfast. I have a little bread and cheese and milk left. None of these guys eat. I don't suppose you want any, Dragon?"

"Why, yes I do, thank you," the Dragon said. And they both sat down and had a nice little picnic.

When they were full, the Princess climbed on the Dragon.

"I guess this is goodbye," the Water Warrior said.

"Nonsense," the Princess said. "My father will want to meet the three warriors who kept me safe on this adventure and saved my life multiple times. Climb aboard!"

"Yes," the Dragon said. "And I will fly each of you home later."

So, the Warriors climbed on board, and the four travelers rode on the Dragon's back as he flew through the clouds, down the mountain, across the lake and right over the castle wall, where he landed in the courtyard. Several of the King's warriors raised their spears and bows and arrows and approached the Dragon carefully.

"What is the meaning of this?" the King asked, coming out of the castle in his suit of royal armor, brandishing his family's sword.

"Don't attack!" the Princess cried out, climbing down from the Dragon. "He's my friend. For you see, I have kissed his fingers and he is no longer lonely or angry."

"My little girl!" the King cried in delight, dropping his sword and running to hug the Princess. "I thought I had lost you forever."

"No, father," the Princess said. "These three warriors protected me."

She pointed to the Water Warrior, the Rock Warrior and the Cloud Warrior who each dismounted the dragon and bowed humbly before the king.

"She's a princess?" the Cloud Warrior asked the other two.

"Why didn't you tell us?" the Rock Warrior asked the Water Warrior.

"I didn't know she was a princess!" the Water Warrior said.

"Rock, Water and Cloud -- working together to help my daughter, a little girl of the flesh. And together, all of you have spared the kingdom from the evil temper of this Dragon," the King said.

"And I promise to be good from now on," the Dragon said.

"Amazing," the King said. "From henceforth I hereby appoint you three warriors ambassadors between the land of men and your respective tribes.

And so, the three warriors returned to their homes, where they were hailed as heroes and looked upon as leaders in a new era of peace. The Dragon shared all of his riches with the people of the land and left his den to live in the castle courtyard. The King continued to kiss the Princess' fingers each night before she went to sleep, but not until after she had made sure to kiss the Dragon's fingers first.

The End

Indiana Jones meets Atticus Finch

2011-05-22T10:10:00.000-07:00

I was asked to give a speech for my dad's surprise retirement party, so I wrote some stuff down and gave the speech last night. Here it is:

When I was a kid I used to imagine my dad had a little bit of Indiana Jones in him. I guess that wouldn't be the first name that springs to mind when most people think of my mild-mannered, even-tempered dad.

But, Indiana Jones was a college professor, just like Dad. They both taught students and kept office hours. They both went on journeys to exotic lands, brought back what seemed to me to be rare antiquities, possessed knowledge concerning foreign cultures and ancient religions, and I wouldn't have been surprised if the Feds showed up one day to consult my dad about the location of the Ark of the Covenant. It was easy to imagine Dad teaching class one minute, and then sneaking out of his office window the next to seek adventure in Israel, Russia or Africa.

There were other childhood benefits to having a college professor for a dad. Living right near campus was like having the best backyard ever. There was a big athletic center, a great library and even an endless supply of top shelf babysitters.

But the most important benefits were less tangible. Growing up influenced by a man who embraced the pursuit of knowledge and intellectual curiosity has influenced my own approach to the world in more ways than I could even begin to describe.

Dad is open to new ideas, new ways of thinking and a variety of points of view. He's on an endless quest to learn, and he's open to being taught -- an approach to life I can only hope to emulate.

Like Dad, if I find a subject that sparks my interest, I read everything I can get my hands on and learn as much as I can about it. Like Dad, I find inspiration in writers, artists and thinkers who came before me and learn as much as I can about them. Still, the important thing is not what I've learned but how I've learned it. And that's what my dad taught me -- how to learn. In his writing and speaking, Dad has also taught me how to digest that knowledge, develop a unique point of view on it, and then present it back to the world as something new.

Thanks to his job, Dad has taken many trips around the world and I've been able to go along with him to places like England and Italy. But it was during a trip to Louisville, Kentucky that I realized how much Dad and I had in common when we both made pilgrimages. Dad's pilgrimage was to the monastery at Gethsemani where he was able to visit the home of one of his biggest heroes, influences and inspirations, Thomas Merton. We walked through the open fields until we came to Merton's ioslated hermitage, where he did some of his most important writing. As we stood looking at the humble building, I could see by the look on Dad's face how meaningful the place was to him.

My pilgrimage was a detour to New Jersey to visit the convenience store where the R-rated independent film "Clerks" was shot. Kevin Smith, the filmmaker who wrote and directed the low budget comedy, was one of my heroes. We went out to the broken down hole in the wall, and when we got there, it really felt like I was somewhere important.

At the time I thought this trip must have seemed strange to Dad. As I think back on it, I realize he must have understood it. It occurred to me our experiences must have been similar. Granted, Dad's was a spiritual experience influenced by one of the greatest minds for peace and understanding the world has known, and mine was influenced by a cult filmmaker. Still, we were both visiting sites that were unassuming on the surface but important in the lives and work of our heroes. Dad taught me the search for knowledge extends beyond reading and writing, and into the realm of the senses.

As I grew older, my range of literary references grew beyond Indiana Jones and I found another comparison for my dad. This was Atticus Finch from "to Kill a Mockingbird." Like Atticus Finch, my dad has fought for minorities. This fight has ranged from important issues to minor ones. When I was a kid and Dad was watching sports, every time I asked who he was rooting for the answer was always the same: "The underdogs."

But, more seriously, Dad has always used his job as a platform to continue the pursuit of these important causes, mostly involving civil rights. His heroes and intellectual inspirations are men who fought for these causes -- people like Howard Thurman, Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Thomas Merton. These men used their spirituality and intellect for the good of the world, not for themselves -- just like Dad.

In "To Kill a Mockingbird" Atticus Finch says, "You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view, until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it." That quote gets to the heart of one of Dad's most passionate pursuits -- the search for interfaith communication and understanding. Dad has taught me that it is important to look at things from all angles. His faith has led him not to exclude all others, safe in the knowledge that he's "right" but instead to become open and accepting, safe in the knowledge that peace and love is right.

There's another quote that reminds me of Dad. This one is about Atticus Finch, spoken by one of his neighbors. She said, "Atticus Finch is the same in his house as he is on the public streets." That quote puts into words what I have always admired about Dad but was never eloquent enough to articulate myself. I never had the Dad who said, "Do what I say, not what I do," because when it comes to my dad, "saying" and "doing" are the same thing. I can always trust Dad and believe in him because I know the morals he believes in and the faith he holds dear come from his very inner core. I've had a front row seat to see that this is not a sanctimonious persona he puts on when he speaks in front of a class or a congregation or a group of colleagues. This is simply who he is. He has influenced others by being true to himself, and being the best self he can be.

Part of Dad's mission in life has been to spread the word, in both spiritual and intellectual pursuits, and perhaps, most importantly, when spirituality and intellect cross paths and become one. Thanks to Dad, at least 36 years' worth of students, colleagues, congregations, and peers have changed for the better, and I'm as proud to be among them as I am to be his son.

Bring back the Bull Moose Party

2011-05-10T19:26:00.000-07:00

I was thinking about the dumb Tea Party today and how they take their name, appropriately or not, from a historical protest. I understand where the name comes from, but it's interesting how it kind of stands at odds with the way these types often want Republicans and conservatives to appear macho -- that's the usual thing, right? Conservatives are manly and liberals are pussies? But then you name your supposed grassroots movement after an effeminate game little girls play with stuffed animals?

Anyway, as I was thinking about this today it occurred to me that maybe liberals and/or Democrats need some kind of pretend grassroots movement. It seems to me if the conservatives want a girly name for their party, the supposedly pussy liberals should choose a manly name.

And that's when I remembered -- the Bull Moose Party.

One of the few things I remember from my AP History Class is how bad ass Teddy Roosevelt was. He had a sweet 'stache, a monocle, a giant personality, went around boasting about how awesome he was all the time. He was a real character. When he split with the Republican party, he formed the Progressive party. When his enemies shot him in the chest the day of his campaign speech and he STILL showed up to give the speech, he responded, "I'm as fit as a Bull Moose!" And the Progressive Party became known as the Bull Moose Party.

Unlike the Tea Party, the Bull Moose Party was an actual political party. They were into some cool stuff -- national health service, social insurance, women's rights, farm relief -- they wanted to get rid of the influence of corrupt business on corrupt politicians, etc. They were also into some slightly more complicated stuff like direct elections -- no telling how that kind of stuff would have panned out.

In any case, it's time to bring the Bull Moose Party back, and in doing so I need a good leader to spearhead the effort. I nominate Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson. He's the perfect candidate. Here's why:

1) He's simultaneously black and not black

2) He used to wrestle, so white trash loves him

3) Many chicks think he's hot

4) Most dudes think he's awesome

5) He's charismatic

6) I don't think I've ever met anyone who was anti-Rock

And of course the single most important thing that makes him super electable:

7) He single-handedly killed Osama bin Laden.

Free Parking

2011-03-22T16:09:00.000-07:00

Last evening as I left my house around 7:30 to go to the grocery store, I found the note pictured to the left under my wind shield wiper. If you can't quite make it out, it says:

YES!

THE RUMORS ARE TRUE

THE NEIGHBORS ON THIS BLOCK

DO NOT APPRECIATE

YOU USING OUR STREET

AS A PARKING LOT.

ESPECIALLY

WHEN YOU LEAVE YOUR CAR HERE

ALL DAY LONG!

My car had been there about 3 and a half hours at this point, not all day. When I got home from work, there was less street parking available than usual, so I parked on the street behind my building instead of the street in front of it.

When I got back from the grocery store, there was plenty of parking available on in front of the building where I normally park, so I parked there. Not because I give a fuck about assholes who sit in their houses with driveways and garages and passive aggressively place notes on windshields. Just because it's much more convenient for me to park in front of my own building when I can. I mean, when I park behind it, it's not for fun. Though, now I guess I'll get a little vengeful satisfaction out of the times I do.

I've lived in this neighborhood for maybe 2 and a half years now and this is my first note. I'd say I park behind the building maybe 1 out of 10 times I park, simply depending on whether or not all the best spots are already taken. I don't have a parking lot, or driveway, or garage (unlike everyone who lives on the block in question) so short of circling the block all night until it's time to go to work again in the morning, I don't have much choice. I guess I could stop owning a car, but I like my car.

Granted, there is construction in the area, so sometimes construction workers park their trucks and then walk to work. Also, I live near a transit center, so some people might park in the area and ride the train downtown for work. I guess this invasion of commuters could be annoying to residents of the neighborhood, but it should be annoying to guys like me who have to park on the street. I simply can't understand why a guy who lives in a house, with a driveway and a garage, and street parking, would be annoyed. The commuters take up my spots. Not his. And they don't bug me, because they show up when I'm leaving for work, and leave when I get back. It's like a delicate ecosystem where the people who live here leave during the day and we get replaced by the people who work here until we get home at night. It's called sharing.

Look: this dude should be glad he lives in a place where people want to park. That's the give and take of living in a happening place. If you want to live somewhere worth living, you're gonna have to put up with other people. If not, you can move to the sticks and enjoy yourself in the middle of fucking nowhere where there's plenty of parking and nothing is ever open. You know where it's really hard to find street parking? MANHATTAN.

The note did make me curious though. I mean I'm not super well versed when it comes to parking laws, so maybe I was doing something wrong. There are no signs in the area, but who knows what the default rules are. If I was being an asshole, I wanted to knock it off. If I wasn't, I wanted to prove myself right, because I love being right, especially when it means someone else is being an asshole. So I looked up the laws.

Turns out I'm totally within my rights. If there are no signs or meters around you're not supposed to leave your car on the street in a residential area for more than 24 hours. Otherwise you're totally fine. Since I drive my car every day, it's never parked in one place for more than 24 hours. Usually when I leave town for a few days I leave my car at work. I think I've left it in front of the building for more than 24 hours once or twice but apparently the assholes live behind the building, not in front of it.

There are certain zones in the city where people have to apply for parking passes, providing the city with proof that they live in those areas. If this guy wants to be such a dick, he could apply for our neighborhood to be transformed into one of those zones. Only it still wouldn't solve his problem, because then I'd just prove I live here and get a pass and still park on his precious street from time to time. I checked the zones online, and my neighborhood isn't any kind of existing zone, so I don't need a pass. The zones are big areas and not street specific, so this guy's notion that I have to live on his street in order to park there is totally fictional, not to mention the fact that for all he knows, I could live there. Hell, I basically do.

I don't want to be one of those guys who starts talking about how he pays his taxes, but I do! I think it's okay to bring up paying taxes in this instance because I feel like the kind of cockface who would put this kind of sign on someone's car is probably one of those people obsessed with taxes. Doesn't part of those taxes go towards streets and sidewalks and parking enforcement? Aren't I partially paying taxes specifically so I can park on the street?

The thing that bugged me the most about the whole thing is I had no way to respond. As I browsed the grocery store, the note fresh on my mind, I tried to think of ways in which I could respond.

1.) I could go door to door and ask each person if they put that note on my car. This would be partially satisfying because I suspect this is the work of one crank and not representative of the entire street, the way the note pretends it is. Most of the people would have no idea what I'm talking about, they'd read the note, they'd agree that only a total ballsack would write something like that, and they'd probably even speculate which bitch on the street did it. Eventually I'd get to whoever was responsible and they'd probably act like they didn't know what I was talking about, all pissing their pants and stuff.

2.) I could just write down everyone's address and send a formal response. But, I thought about what I'd write in the formal response and everything I thought of sounded totally douche baggy. Half my responses were just as passive aggressive as the original note, and the other half were just obscenity laced rants. Still, it would kind of have the same benefit as the option above, which is that all the innocent neighbors who I suspect don't give a shit where anyone parks would be annoyed that someone in their midst would write a note like this. I wouldn't be there to see their reactions, though, and sending an anonymous letter would, again, be just as dumb as the original shithead.

3.) I could do nothing. Frustrating, but eventually I'd forget about the note and I wouldn't be stooping to the level of the child who wrote it in the first place. And by child I mean (probable) senior citizen.

4.) Or I could write about it here. I suddenly remembered I write in a blog and I haven't written in it since February and I hadn't had a good idea to write about recently, so it'd kill several birds with several stones. I could vent, finally post something, and pretend to respond to my enemy, all while avoiding any actual retaliation that my enemy might accidentally get some satisfaction out of.

Loyal readers might remember there was once a little red pickup truck parked outside my apartment building for at least a year. It eventually disappeared, but I was constantly amazed how long it lasted, given the fact that it had several towing warnings placed on it and survived some roadwork that drove all other vehicles away for a few days. It was impressive and I was mildly amused by it.

It's too bad whoever wrote this note is probably never mildly amused by anything like that. I can only speculate, but I assume they haven't been laid in a while and probably don't have much of a sense of humor. Maybe that's not fair, but I guess if you don't want people to think shit like that about you, then you shouldn't put notes on their cars that basically say, "I'm a total asshole."

Cutco salesmen put notes on your car to trick you into working for them. 24 Hour Fitness puts notes on your car to trick you into working out with them. This guy puts notes on your car to trick you into deeply hating him.

And it works.