What you have here is my blog history. To find my up-to-date ravings, go to:
http://pppatty.blogspot.com/
Saturday, 18 October 2008
Friday, 3 October 2008
The end of an era
I was getting ready to regale you with some sarky comments on my recent viewing when I learned the sorry news that AOL are relegating all journals on their space to the ether at the end of this month. While I have printed copies of my many reviews over the last three and a half years, this means -- as far as I can work out -- that my archives will become inaccessible to the rest of the world. Oh joy!
Like the many other disappointed AOL users, I have now established a new home for Pretty Pink Patty's Pictures which can be found here:
It will take a while to get into the swing of things there, but I hope my few faithful readers will note this new location and visit from time to time. Before this page disappears forever, perhaps some of you would be good enough to leave the new addresses for your own journals. Best of luck to us all -- and curses on the powers that be at AOL.
Sunday, 28 September 2008
This month's in-flight movies
It seems to have become something of a self-imposed tradition that I comment on the in-flight films I see. However since my upcoming return to the States in two weeks' time will be my sixth round-trip transatlantic trip of 2008, I am rapidly losing enthusiasm for the enterprise. But never mind, here we go:
Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (2008): This is a movie that one must watch on principle, but the truth of the matter is that it is not particularly good nor exciting. Production was held up for yonks while they found a script that all of the interested parties liked, but it is hard to believe that they settled on such a pathetic one. Harrison Ford, even at his advanced age, still cuts the mustard as an action hero although he really must be on his last legs here. Cate Blanchett with her phony Russian accent makes an annoying villainess, but it was pleasing to see Karen Allen back in the picture. If new sidekick/son, the over-rated Shia LaBeouf, is being groomed for further installments of this franchise, they really shouldn't bother as far as I'm concerned. Enough is enough.
Drillbit Taylor (2008): It's the done-before tale of bullied students hiring a bodyguard to protect them, but the catch here is that Owen Wilson is a no-good bum, initially only out for the loot, (and allowing his equally reprehensible lowlife friends to ransack the kids' houses.) Of course he reforms and all comes right in the end. It would be fairly glib to say that Wilson is the whole show here, but in fact the three geeky kids are well-developed characters in their own right and help to make this negligible flick more watchable.
Forgetting Sarah Marshall (2008): I only saw half of this movie from the prolific Judd Apatow stable before the entertainment system was switched off for landing and I can't say I'm in any rush to view the balance. Jason Segel plays the loser who is dumped by his longterm foxy girlfriend (Kristin Bell) and can't seem to get his act together. He decides to vacation in Hawaii and ends up at the same resort as Bell and her new and rather obnoxious beau, played by the full-of-himself (and rather obnoxious) Brit Russell Brand (whose charms -- if any -- elude me).
Married Life (2007): Having seen so many of the films on offer, I was at something of a loss what to select, but this was a good choice. Set in the 1940s with some excellent period detail, this is the story of long-term married Chris Cooper falling for the charms of a young widow, Rachel McAdams, and deciding that the only way to stop his patient wife (Patricia Clarkson) from being hurt is to kill her. Nothing like finding the simple solution I always say. However he is not counting on his best friend and full-time lothario Pierce Brosnan from also falling for his new love interest. That's about it, but all rather well done and watchable, if not overly memorable.
You Don't Mess with the Zohan (2008): Regular readers will know that I am far from a big Adam Sandler fan, although he does occasionally make me smile. Here he plays an Israeli counter-terrorist who really wants to give up that life to become a hairdresser in New York. John Turturro plays his Arab nemesis, and the film ends up with an overly saccharine plea for racial tolerance which is pretty nauseating. In the meantime we are treated to a run of lewd jokes about Sandler's sexual prowess and equipment, as he spreads his special mode of hairdressing amonst the grateful older ladies in the salon.
Monday, 15 September 2008
The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone (1961)
Based on a Tennessee Williams novella, this lovingly filmed but rather (in the end) depressing movie has many points of interest. Vivien Leigh, in her penultimate film role, stars as a famous but aging actress who has given up her career after the death of her rich, protective husband. She settles in a gorgeous flat in Rome and tries to fill her lonely days with whatever she can. A young and rather beautiful gigolo, played by Warren Beatty in only his second film role (and half Leigh's age), is foistered upon her by an impoverished and grotesque aristocratic pimp played, in her first English-speaking film, by the great Lotte Lenya -- some 30 years after starring the The Threepenny Opera.
Leigh is vain enough to try to delude herself that Beatty wants to be with her for her own appeal rather than her money and it is so sad to see a once-great lady give way to her baser instincts as she becomes more and more desperate for Beatty's "love". The viewer, meanwhile, can clearly see that the young man is a vain, nogoodnik only in love with himself. By the end of the film when Beatty has moved on to richer pickings under Lenya's guidance, we are led to believe that Leigh yearns for and arranges her last tragic moments, but the ending is sufficiently open to be taken more than one way.
To prove the rather self-evident point, especially nowadays, that it is not only great movies that get remade -- often to no avail -- but middling ones as well, this title was remade for cable in 2003 with Helen Mirren in the Leigh role, Anne Bancroft substituting for Lenya, and Olivier Martinez as the young stud. At least he didn't have to put on a suspiciously phony accent to play foreign as poor Beatty did -- but I guess he thought he was "stretching" himself at the time and it's only a wee bit distracting.
Guess what? Yes, it's back to the States in a few days' time for what should be the next to last necessary visit this year -- so I shall resume on my return later this month. Take care...
Friday, 12 September 2008
A Ray Milland double bill
Ray Milland had a long and rather strange Hollywood career. The Welsh-born former dancer and Guardsman went to the States in the late 30s and immediately had movie success as a light leading man supporting many of the day's top actresses. He proved his acting chops with an Oscar for the incorrigible drunk in Wilder's "Lost Weekend" (1945), but moved in and out of fine pictures and blatant rubbish for the next three decades. I recently rewatched two of his movies and admire the fact that he remained ever watchable in all manner of outings:
Golden Earrings (1947): As one critic wrote, this film defined the concept of "camp cult classic" before such a concept existed in the sense that it is so awful that it is compelling. Milland plays an British army officer on a mission in Germany just before the outbreak of World War II. He is captured and tortured, but manages to escape and ends up hiding out with Marlene Dietrich's free-spirited and superstitious gypsy. She stains his skin, decks him out in garish garb, pierces his ears, and tells him to avert his blue eyes from the inquisitive Germans (the fact that she also has light eyes is studiously ignored). Despite his growing feelings for her, he completes his mission and returns to Britain -- where the holes in his ears are a constant source of gossip at his Gentleman's club. After the war, he receives his earrings in the post, so he flies to Paris where, in a nearby wood, her caravan is waiting. Just like that!
Alias Nick Beal (1949): Milland was most often a likeable hero, even when in the throes of drink, so his role in this long-forgotten film is a change of pace. Effectively he plays the devil -- or at least one of his minions -- on a quest to obtain souls in a latter day Faust story. His quarry here is honest politician Thomas Mitchell whom he manages to tempt with hopes of political glory and the attraction of a young woman -- both to the distress of Mitchell's faithful and sensible wife and upright colleagues. Milland is nearly perfect as the sly tempter and quite probably enjoyed the opportunity to play against type. In truth this is certainly a B-movie, but one that is well-conceived and well-acted.
Tuesday, 9 September 2008
Shoot 'em Up (2007)
This movie which I understand lost a bundle at the U.S. box office -- more's the pity -- is more fun than a barrel full of monkeys. Written and directed by one Michael Davis (none of his past projects ring any bells with me), it is 80 minutes of live cartoon action that keeps the totally undiscerning viewer in all of us on the edge of our seats and provides a great number of satisfying yelps amongst the nonstop mayhem.
It is pointless hoping to make any sense out of the backstory which is something to do with breeding babies to provide bone marrow for a dying politician and how a munitions millionaire is out to thwart his plans with his army of assassins led by the unlikely Paul Giamatti. The hero here is Clive Owen who, despite being one of the dirtiest looking actors on screen, acquits himself as the upright do-gooder who is a cross between Bugs Bunny and every guncrazy action man of the past. During the first shootout he delivers a baby from a hunted pregnant gal and spends most of the film toting the newborn kid around after the mother dies -- this even outdoes Chow Yun Fat's baby antics. Assisted by an ex-lover and wetnurse, the delectable Monica Bellucci, Owen succeeds in decimating the baddies, often assisted by his weapon of choice -- a carrot! The movie boasts some excrutiating one-liners, but this is all part of the fun.
Since it was a flop, Mr. Davis is unlikely to be given a big-budget Hollywood film again -- and this is our loss as well.
Friday, 5 September 2008
The French in action
If you are inclined to think of French movies as talky arthouse features, think again as French film-makers are increasingly able to challenge Hollywood's action genre. Maybe that's why so many foreign films are "treated" to U.S. (and generally inferior) remakes. I've seen two French flicks in the last few days which while not great cinema necessarily, certainly kept the old adrenaline pumping:
Le Serpent (2006): This was on many levels a relentlessly nasty film but one that held my attention especially since it cast Yvan Attal who is a fairly sympathetic actor in an unexpected action role. He plays a photographer fighting a messy divorce from his heiress wife when his life begins to disintegrate further. He has met up, supposedly by accident, with an old schoolmate played by Clovis Cornillac who seems to want to renew this friendship, but who is actually a cold-eyed psychopath with an agenda for revenge. Watching the calculatingly evil way he worms his way into Attal's former household, proportedly protecting the wife and two kids from harm, and the fate he envisions for them is truly chilling. The usually relaxed Attal must suddenly find his inner action hero which he believably does. The film also features an early role for new Bond Girl Olga Kurylenko with a lot more kinky nudity than is likely to feature in Quantum of Solace or whatever it is called.
District 13 (2004): Set in a bleak future (actually 2010), troublemakers have been isolated into a cordoned ghetto ruled by ruthless gangs. One resident played by David Belle has upset a local Mr. Big over a drug deal and ends up in the pokey framed by the police in the gangster's pay, leaving the gang boss able to abduct Belle's sister and keep her as a doped-up sex slave. He is freed from prison when an upright cop needs an ally to infiltrate the ghetto to recover a primed nuclear weapon that has been stolen. This possibly seems an improbable scenario but in truth it is an exciting one as played out, especially for the twist that emerges in the tail. What makes this action movie even more watchable is that Belle is credited as being the inventor of the sport of Parkour or free-running, and the chase sequences show unparalled athleticism. The many fight scenes are also thrillingly staged; all in all a great bit of excapism.
Please ping
Sunday, 31 August 2008
The Devil and Miss Jones (1941)
With a title like the above, this film might sound like yet another horror flick or even a latter-day soft porn job, but it is actually another comforting golden oldie, albeit not one of the better-known ones -- although it thoroughly deserves to be.
Character actor Charles Coburn who was oscar-nominated for the role plays a curmudgeonly rich guy who takes major offence when the employees of a department he owns (among his lesser holdings) hang him in effigy in social protest. He decides to go undercover as a hapless slipper salesman to uncover the ringleaders and get them all fired. Needless to say he is soon very much on the side of the people who befriend him, in particular the lovely comedienne Jean Arthur who feels so sorry for what she believes to be a poor and hard-done-by old geezer, Spring Byington as an older potential romantic interest, and Robert Cummings in a meatier role than his normally lightweight ones as the main agitator. Only the usually dear old Edmund Gwenn as an uppity too-big-for-his-boots department manager really gets his goat.
This film is something of a cross between the screwball comedies of the 30s in which Arthur excelled and the more socially-conscious movies of the 40s, but it is thoroughly delightful on all counts. Arthur retired from the movies far too early (her last role was as the mother in "Shane"); she was never a glamourpuss but always the gal you could both believe in and wish to know.
Wednesday, 27 August 2008
FrightFest Part Two
The main lesson one took away from the films shown in the first half reviewed below is that it continues to be unwise and definitely unsafe to go into the woods! From the remaining movies we appear to be advised that it is best to avoid mirrors and killers that look exactly like yourself -- since this was a recurring theme:
From Within (2008): This American effort was a fairly proficient scarer of how a town's collective guilt from an earlier incident can be turned against itself, as its inhabitants are confronted with their own murderous doppelgangers. The first victim was one Rumer Willis (daughter of Bruce and Demi) in histrionic mode which gives this some curiosity value. Nice downbeat surprise ending too.
Let the Right One In (2008): This Swedish film named after the Morrissey song was the most pre-hyped movie of the fest and lived up to its publicity. Set in a snowy and beautifully photographed Swedish winter, it tells of the growing friendship between a bullied 12-year old boy and the vampire girl next door (who has been 12 for a very long time!). How she is able to satisfy her blood lust while helping to protect him from his tormentors forms the basis for this gory yet very satisfying tale played out by two amazing child actors.
The Broken (2008): Broken here refers to mirrors like the one that breaks during a family birthday celebration and how the shattered glass causes each of the family to face being replaced by their mirror image. Stylishly filmed by a former fashion photographer and featuring Lena Heady and Richard Jenkins amongst the small cast, it in fact made little sense and was in the end more puzzling than scary. And you thought that seven years bad luck was the only consequence...
Autopsy (2008): As it says in its tagline, the horror only starts after the ambulance arrives. Five friends suffer a car crash in the middle of nowhere after running down an unknown man and are swiftly transported to a nearly deserted hospital. Here they meet a demented doctor played by ex-Robocop Robert Patrick, who in good horror movie tradition is seeking a formula to save his dying wife and needs young bodies on which to experiment. This he and his three demented colleagues continue to do with only one feisty female (again) out to save her doomed pals from the red splatter.
Martyrs (2008): This relentless French film is a nasty shocker of twisted revenge turning into sadistic torture as a young girl is systematically abused to discover the nature of martyrdom. One needs a very strong stomach not to be repelled by the scenario and cruelty on display and I somehow feel that this calculatingly disturbing film lacks any moral authority. It's definitely one to divide the audience.
The Dead Outside (2008): I nearly skipped the world premiere of this Scottish movie and no harm if I had. It's still another story of a singularly small group of survivors (two and then a third) banding together at an isolated farmhouse as a strange virus decimates the population and turns everyone into bloodthirsty stalkers. (This is another theme that is being increasingly overdone). Quickly shot on a low budget, this one has some unusual character development but failed to engage this viewer with its underlying emotional charge.
The Disappeared (2008): This British would-be shocker is set in the dingy setting of a council estate where a young man blames himself for the earlier disappearance of his younger brother, not helped by the fact that Dad (Greg Wise) blames him as well. As he appears to be receiving whispers from the grave, he attempts to discover the boy's actual fate and is abetted by various characters who may or may not really exist. This was an ambitious film with an unexpected denouement but murkily shot and in the end not as involving as it could have been.
Mirrors (2008): This is a "reimagining" for Hollywood of the superior Korean horror "Into the Mirror" which I reviewed a few years back. French director Alex Aja who made a huge splash with "Switchblade Romance" a few years ago has accepted the big American budgets with a vengeance and managed to turn a truly scary original into a bloated mishmash. Kiefer Sutherland is a suspended cop who takes a night watchman's job at a burned-out architecturally grand department store filled with (you guessed it) murderous mirrors. There are a few very effective visual shocks at the start of the film, but as the terror escapes its setting and starts to threaten Kiefer's family, things just become more and more unbelievable and simply an excusefor supernatural fireworks. The film is also 'blessed' with some of the clunkiest dialogue I've heard for an age and the ending designed for our hero is a good example of the director trying to be just too clever for words. A big big disappointment.
After the above I decided to skip the closing film which was the UK premiere of "Death Race" a remake of the Corman classic "Deathrace 2000" and starring that wooden lunk Jason Statham. Having seen the poisonous U.S. reviews for this recent release (only the New York Times admitted that it was some fun on a moronic level), I felt that I could wait until this movie comes my way in the normal course of events.
So that's FrightFest for another year -- the fourth fest that I've reported since starting this blog. Roll on the new frights for 2009...
Sunday, 24 August 2008
FrightFest Part One
Well I'm now three days into this five-day marathon although I am exhibiting rather less stamina than in previous years and have been skipping the late showings -- even when these held a strange appeal like the return of weirdie director Frank Henenlotter ("Basket Case", "Frankenhooker" etc.) after a hideously long gap. I shall have to try to catch up with his delirious-sounding sleazy tale "Bad Biology" on DVD. So what stands out so far?
"Eden Lake" (2008): This new British film was given its world premiere and rather neatly illustrates the fact that is becoming increasingly clear in my mind that there is a not too subtle difference between horror movies and films that depict horrible things -- and this seems to be where the genre is going. What we have here are a lovely young couple (Kelly Reilly and Michael Fassbender) who are planning a romantic weekend in the scenic woods but who end up being tormented and tortured by a gang of young and callous hoodlums. As Warner Brothers demonstrated in the 1930s, this crime theme is ripped from today's headlines. Yes there is a wave of teenaged violence and yes their cruel anomie can be terrifying, but when did real fears turn into horror? The movie is very well done, but despite the female half's feisty fight, modern reality would appear to have no happy endings -- at least not here.
I Know How Many Runs You Scored Last Summer (2008): This extremely minor Australian tongue-in-cheek slasher was also a world premiere but far less likely to leave much of a mark on the horror afficionado. Using the apparatus of cricket for a series of inventive and grisly murders, one is unable to take this tale of a bullied schoolboy's revenge with more than a few grains of gore. And any movie which stars its female co-director and then gives her an extended full-frontal lascivious nude shower scene (albeit with an obvious body double) can not really be taking itself too seriously.
TimeCrimes (2007) and King of the Hill (2008?): Next up were this pair of Spanish films, the latter being a last-minute replacement for a Danish teacher-as-alien no-show. "Time Crimes" was definitely the more inventive and mind-boggling (and destined for a U.S. remake) as our middle-aged hero undergoes some time-shifting and ends up being pursued by a relentless doppelganger of himself, eventually finding that he has split into three separate entities, each functioning in a slightly different timeframe. The other was yet another example of adults (but not quite so likable here) being picked off in the wilderness by young killers. This definitely seems to be becoming the new face of so-called horror.
Trailer Park of Terror (2008): It seems that some years ago a young sexpot went on a murderous foray in her trashy trailer park, killing everyone and destroying the site; yet many years later on a stormy night, a busload of teenaged delinquents and their Holy Joe team leader are able to take refuge there. And guess what, all of the former redneck inhabitants are still there in the shape of murderous zombies and undead cannibals for one last blood-soaked night in the traditional horror-movie mode.
Mum and Dad (2008): This was a fairy proficient example of "the family that slays together stays together" sub-species as a deranged couple living in the shadow of Heathrow Airport (with its low-flying planes that might drive anyone crazy) use their two equally amoral children to lure airport co-workers to their "happy home" for a spot of torture, intimindation and mayhem. In due course our hard-done by heroine does manage to escape and to revenge the days -- with whoops and cheers from the hardcore audience here.
Fear(s) of the Dark (2007): This French-language compilation of short black and white animations, was stylish and adventurous in design without being overly horrifying. One was taken in by the rather spiffy styles of the eight different directors of the various sections and I for one viewed it as an interesting sampler of animation techniques rather than any sort of coherent horror film whole.
Dance of the Dead (2008): We're rather back in familiar horror territory here as the chemical fallout from the towers overlooking a graveyard manage to reanimate the dead on the night of the high school prom. Only an assortment of science geeks, heavy metal freaks, a couple of nubile females, and a gung-ho sports coach can save the day from the new undead. This was another instance of 'let's have fun with the genre' film-making, rather than a 'let's scare people to death' horror movie -- which is fine for occupying a forgettable 90-odd minutes.
Manhunt (2008): ThisNorwegian entry was yet another "let's menace holiday-makers with unseen killers in the woods". Are we spotting a trend here? At least we were spared yet another instance of rampaging teens, but how much of this sort of thing does the world really need? Not much is my take on the subject!
The Chaser (2008): This Korean thriller was a relentless example of the search for a serial killer, but was really just a little out of place in the FrightFest brief, despite its lashings of blood. An ex-cop turned pimp spends the full two hours trying to find the man responsible for "selling" his girls (when in fact he has been murdering them) and wants to discover the fate of his latest call-girl disappearance, accompanied for much of the time by her stone-faced seven-year-old daughter. This was a well-realised film, full of well-rounded characters, but bleak in its outlook and in the end unforgiving and dark. To be generous, horror does indeed assume many shapes.
Bubba's Chili Parlor (2008): This cheapjack and fairly pathetic entry shot on cheap video was another world premiere and is being distributed by the FrightFest mavens. They are welcome to it and I lasted for less than half of its short running time. A load of contaminated beef has turned the country bumpkins of the area into yet another load of hungry zombies. Sprinkled with cod adverts and scratchy intermissions this was far less than a 'grindhouse' rip-off, but rather a not particularly good example of poverty row film-making.
Still there is more to come over the next two days and being the eternal optimist, I have my usual high hopes.
Sunday, 17 August 2008
Movies to fall asleep to...
Well I'm back from the States for the time being but will be going back either once or twice next month (which is a serious pain in the you-know-where) and, as is my usual wont, I should be reporting on the in-flight movies seen. The above caption is perhaps a wee bit misleading since the selected films were all worth a look, but truthfully were not properly viewed, since I managed to doze off during all of them. Still at least I know which will be worth my time when I get around to them again:
The Iron Man (2008): I am probably the only movie buff in existence who has not yet seen the new, blockbusting Batman film (I'm in no hurry), but as far as comic-book heroes go, this film has a lot going for it. Robert Downey, Jr. is such a consummate actor that he is even believable as a superhero -- a concept totally at odds with his previous screen incarnations. I wish I'd seen all of this one, since it seemed good fun with stupendous effects and a bald Jeff Bridges making an unlikely but menacing villain. Even Gwyneth Paltrow doesn't grate here.
Kung Fu Panda (2008): I usually like modern animations but could barely keep my eyes open during this one which is currently out-boxofficing "Wall-E" (which for my money is the superior film). This one is an affectionate take on kung-fu movies with roly-poly Jack Black voicing a roly-poly panda who yearns to be a hero. Like so many recent films, this one boasts a celebrity voice cast which even includes Jackie Chan, but I reserve judgment for now.
In Bruges (2008): I only saw the start and end of this one, but it seemed a winner and I definitely want to watch it again. Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson play two hired killers lying low in Belgium while awaiting orders from their boss -- an OTT Ralph Fiennes. Farrell often leaves me cold, but as the foul-mouthed and not-too-bright hitman hating the cultural mecca of Bruges, his performance is definitely one of his more watchable ones.
Gone Baby Gone (2007): Ben Affleck's directorial debut starring his brother Casey in an adaptation of Dennis Lehane's novel is sure-footed and absorbing, with a number of unexpected ins and outs that one didn't see coming and perhaps an overly downbeat ending. Affleck Sr. does a professional job of giving the viewer a realistic view of the Boston where he was raised and in controlling the very able cast. That I found it a little confusing is most likely down to the fact that I missed great chunks of it while dozing off in Cloud Cuckoo land -- so this is another that I must give further respect to.
Be Kind, Rewind (2008): I saw most of this one based on a concept from the weird mind of its director Michel Gondry and while it was amusing in parts, it probably isn't a film that is worth repeat viewings. Jack Black (again) gets himself magnetized (don't ask) and blanks out all of the videos in the down-and-out video shop being watched by his mate Mos Def (very good, as always) for its owner, Danny Glover. In order to satisfy their dwindling customer base, they decide to "swede" a number of the movies, making home-made rip-offs of popular titles with a certain degree of ingenuity and good humour. There's also a running motif of their New Jersey town being associated with Fats Waller which gives the film its continuity and resolution. It's a pretty minor effort but one which leaves the viewer in feel-good mode.
I'll try to write again during the coming days before succumbing to the FrightFest marathon which starts on Thursday. Nearly 30 movies in five days? Now that's guaranteed to put me to sleep!
Sorry folks (if indeed there is anyone reading out there!) no time or inclination for any new entries before FrightFest, despite seeing some worthy contenders. Just too much going on to get my act together....
Wednesday, 6 August 2008
A couple of charmers...
It seems that I'm still on my golden oldie kick since the more recent movies that I've seen this week have not been doing their job of getting me outside myself -- which unfortunately is something I really need at the moment. Not so the pair of charmers below which managed to take me back to happier and simpler times:
The Young in Heart (1938): This is not quite a screwball but is a rather gentle comedy about a family of con artists: father Roland ("Topper) Young, mother (good witch) Billie Burke, daughter Janet Gaynor (in her last movie appearance for 20 years), and son Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., who between them have never done an honest day's work and who survive by card sharping and bogus romances. When they are uncovered on the Riviera and forced to leave for England, they meet a lonely little old lady on the train, realise that she is stinking rich, and befriend her in the hope of being made her heirs. This part was played by stage actress Minnie Dupree and was suitably named Miss Fortune and the viewer prays that her trust will not prove misplaced. That things work out rather differently from the family's master plan is the heartwarming and totally satisfying twist here. And it's a "doggie" movie too which is guaranteed to make me smile.
The Good Fairy (1935): Written by Preston Sturges before he was given the opportunity to direct, this is a clever bowdlerisation of a Hungarian play and brings out the comedic talents of its lead, Margaret Sullavan, playing a naive orphan unleashed to the fleshpots of Budapest. There she meets a concerned waiter (Reginald Owen), a lecherous would-be benefactor (Frank Morgan), and an impoverished lawyer (Herbert Marshall -- the most dashing one-legged man in the movies). They are as charming and amusing a trio as one could wish, and the lies and complications grow apace until the naturally happy ending. Couldn't we all do with more of those?
Something that always amuses me in the Hollywood films of this period is how age seems to disappear in the magic of the conception. For example, Janet Gaynor was meant to be 20 in the above film (and was actually 34) and 'older brother' Fairbanks was actually five years her junior. But she glows in the role and we want to believe. Similarly Sullavan at 26 was probably too old for the 17-year old orphan, but both actresses look great and one willingly suspends belief.
This will be my last entry for a while since I'm off to the States (again), but I promise to reappear before this year's FrightFest. Take care...
Sunday, 3 August 2008
Malpertuis (1973)
I originally saw this film on TV some years ago in a dark and dubbed print, and it left no abiding impression; however when I saw the director's own cut some years later, I was staggered by its brilliance and wondered whether indeed it could be the same movie. Belgian director Harry Kumel, the man behind the stylish vampire flick "Daughters of Darkness", had wanted to make a film of the fantasy novel by Jean Ray for some time, but struggled to get the financing. Assembling a remarkable cast which included Orson Welles, Susan Hampshire (in three very different roles), Jean-Pierre Cassel, and Michel Bouquet, the film was shot in English and French and then dubbed into different languages for different markets. By the time it arrived in Cannes, it had been chopped to bits by an outside editor, and left to die a critical death.
But Kumel was not defeated, eventually restoring this masterpiece to its original two hour running time and re-doing the dialogue in his native Flemish. I must confess when I first viewed the revision, I thought that Welles had looped his own dialogue, but this was wishful thinking on my part, as I understand that Kumel over-dubbed at least six of the characters himself -- not that this shows and not that it distracts from this very strange and dream-like bit of surrealism. I have seen the movie described as a horror film, but it is no such thing. It is a mind-blowing fantasmagoria with echoes of the Belgian artists Matisse and Delvaux; it's the story of a vast house of endless corridors, peopled with strange characters, and ruled over from his vast bed by the dying Welles. The viewer is left to wonder what is real and what is not, who is insane and who is whole, and whether the house's secret will ever be revealed. Having been led to wonder whether it was all a dream, a shattering ending dispels this illusion.
I have eventually got my grubby little paws on a Belgian DVD which includes the Kumel revision as well as the disposable English and French shorter versions, plus a host of fascinating supporting features. This film certainly deserves to be better known and so do search it out if you can.
Friday, 1 August 2008
In the Line of Fire (1993)
I have a very soft spot for Clint Eastwood and have always thought that there was more to him as an actor than those critics who dismissed his early minimalist style. He was never show-offy as so many more highly rated actors, but always came across as very real. It has also been gratifying to see his growth as a director, to the stage where he is now revered as one of the grand old men of cinema -- and he shows no signs of slowing down either. Long may he wave!
Although he has done it often, it can not be easy directing yourself, and after the early 90's outings of Unforgiven and The Bridges of Madison County, his lead roles in the subsequent self-directed Absolute Power (1997), True Crime (1999), and Blood Work (2002) do not rank among his best work. Fortunately here he is directed by the very able Wolfgang Peterson and the character he plays is well-rounded, sympathetic, and very believable. As a long-term secret service agent who still regrets not being able to have saved President Kennedy, he asks to be put back on the protective rosters when there is a threat to assassinate the current president. While he and we know that he is too old for this work -- his puffing running alongside the presidential limo demonstrates this, he feels that preventing another death would be his redemption. The would-be killer, played by a cerebral John Malkovich, enjoys playing his cat-and-mouse games with Eastwood and gets as much pleasure from taunting him as he hopes to get from the ultimate kill.
Malkovich was deservedly nominated for a best-supporting actor role and plays a worthy adversary for Eastwood's brittle world-weariness. The only minor problem is that Malkovich is meant to be playing a master of disguise and in every single appearance he looks exactly like John Malkovich! But this is a very minor quibble in what is a well-paced and genuinely exciting story; even Eastwood's dalliance with younger agent Rene Russo comes across as a romance that cheers the viewer -- we genuinely wish this jaded, piano-tinkling loner some happiness.
Wednesday, 30 July 2008
Past their sell-by date
I revisited two so-called comedies over the last day or so and despite some positive points, neither has weathered terribly well despite being blessed with adept leads. The problem with both is the scatter-gun approach to the humour with some hits but rather more misses and some skirting with very bad taste.
Better Off Dead (1985): I could barely remember this one but saw fit to watch it again since it stars John Cusack -- never less than watchable -- in his sixth movie outing (aged 19 playing a very believable 17-year old high school student). It was the first film outing from director-writer-animator Savage Steve Holland who has not had much of a subsequent big screen career and is purportedly the semi-autobiographical telling of how he reacted to being dumped by his girlfriend for a big-headed jock, as is the Cusack character here. There follows feeble attempts at suicide, attempts at out-jocking the jock in a skiing contest (egged on by best friend Curtis "Booger" Armstrong, surely one of the least salubrious comic actors of the period), his burgeoning romance with a French exchange student staying with some unbelievably obnoxious neighbours, and an idiotic running joke of being pursued by a lethal paperboy who is looking to collect his owing two dollars. To add insult to injury his parents are played by David Ogden Stiers and an annoyingly idiotic Kim Darby, neither of whom can be pleased to have these roles on their filmographies. However Cusack just about makes the movie watchable, if as I had already discovered unmemorable.
Where's Poppa (1970): This one has rather more going for it as directed by Carl Reiner with George Segal playing a oedipally-repressed lawyer living at home with his gaga mother played by cult-lady Ruth Gordon. This casting keeps the excesses of the story from completely overwhelming the tale, but there are too many lapses into questionable humour which includes a gang of blacks in Central Park who continually mug and otherwise humiliate Segal's married brother (including forcing him to rape an undercover-as-a-female male cop!) Segal, always an unlikely movie star, had a very good run of roles and was definitely A-list in the late sixties/early seventies, but has made far less of an impact over the last few decades. Yet he is an able performer and one can almost feel sorry forhim as he attempts to do what is best for his horrible mother and still look for love with neurotic nurse Trish van Devere, watching his precarious grip on reality and sanity gradually fall apart. The title refers to Gordon's constant asking after her long dead husband and is dealt with both in the final ending of the movie and also with the alternate ending available on the DVD. It's worth a watch if only because no one would dare film this story in the same way today.
Sunday, 27 July 2008
Prix de beaute (1930)
I think I am about to commit some movie heresy which I may regret later. For many years after initially viewing the German silents "Pandora's Box" and "Diary of a Lost Girl", both directed by G. W. Pabst, I belonged to the club which believed that Louise Brooks was not only one of the great iconic screen presences but that it was the moviegoer's loss when on her return to Hollywood after making the above film in France her career crashed. Theory has it that she upset too many people after swanning off to Europe when her U.S. career was just taking off and that no one was willing to give her the same star treatment that she found abroad. Certainly the subsequent American films made before her retirement in 1936 are all pretty rubbishy.
Anyhow I had previously sought out her earlier film roles to check out what was indeed her indelible image and had even seen this movie previously. However on second viewing, I found it little more than a disappointment. Conceived by screen legends Pabst and Rene Clair (but not directed by either), it started life as a silent, but then had sound added. Since Brooks did not speak French, her voice is dubbed here, so to describe the movie as her first sound film and last starring role is somewhat misleading. It's also known as "Miss Europe" and is the tale of a working-class gal who submits her photo to the newspaper where she works and is subsequently voted Miss France and then Miss Europe, much to the horror of her equally bourgeoise boyfriend. Her head is turned by all the glamour and attention, but she gives it all up for love; however, having tasted the high life she is nothing more than miserable in their drab apartment and boring life. So she hightails it off again with this time tragic results.
Perhaps if this movie had stayed as a silent, it would not have destroyed my previous fascination with the actress, but all the soulful looks in the world just do not cut the mustard here. Brutally this part could have been played by just about any halfway good-looking actress and even here Brooks' own distinctive look does not quite hold the eye. I think what I am now saying is that while I will always treasure the German silent roles, I can not bring myself to believe that her fading from the cinema screen was any sort of tragedy. In a way it's best that she did, since like dying young, these few appearances have assured her a kind of movie immortality.
Wednesday, 23 July 2008
The Rains Came (1939)
I'm still on my golden oldies kick and there is an embarrassment of riches to choose from today since my recent viewing has also included John Ford's masterful "The Prisoner of Shark Island" and a couple of early Lubitsch silents which I'd not seen before. However since the young and very beautiful Tyrone Power always bowls me over, the above film wins pride of place.
Made in that magic year of 1939 when so many other classic films made their appearance, this one is a lavish studio production from20th Century Fox (not a major player in those days) set in the years when India was emerging from its colonial yoke. Power plays a turbaned high-caste dedicated doctor whom the childless maharani, the very wonderful Maria Ouspenskaya, has chosen to succeed her rule after her husband's death. Into the palace comes visiting Lady Esketh, played by the then "Queen of Hollywood" Myrna Loy, a spoiled and immoral socialite and her pathetically useless husband Nigel Bruce. She also meets up with an old lover and equally dissolute remittance man George Brent, but has her cap set for the dashing Power who seems to successfully resist her siren charms.
And then the rains came! Flood, destruction, epidemics -- all thrillingly pictured and there is nothing like disaster to bring out a 30's heroine latent nobility, as Loy assists in the hospital in every menial way and finally wins Power's love. But it's too late for a fallen woman and theirs is a love that can not be consummated -- very 30s that! The film was remade in colour in 1955 as "The Rains of Ranchipur" with Lana Turner and Richard Burton in the leads, but I'll take this black and white beauty any day. Burton may have been the stronger actor, but in the gorgeous stakes, he doesn't stand a chance again the young Tyrone -- and that's good enough for me.
Ping again
Monday, 21 July 2008
The Pride of the Yankees (1942)
This rather romaticized biopic of baseball legend Lou Gehrig has long been considered a template for sports movies and one of the best about baseball in general. Even if one is uninterested in the American sport of the 1930s, one can still enjoy this film for Gary Cooper's give-it-all performance in the lead.
The magic of cinema (or the appeal of Cooper's persona) allows the viewer to overlook the fact that the actor was 41 when the movie was made and is therefore a wee bit too old to play Gehrig as a Columbia University student of 20 or so. One forgives the moviemakers this conceit by the sincerity and simple charm of his acting. The backstory is that he is the child of poor immigrants who has always loved the sport but agrees to go to university to fulfil his mother's dream of his becoming an engineer like dear old Uncle Otto. He leaves to play ball and earn the necessary money for a good hospital when she becomes ill and for sometime is in cahoots with his dad to keep this deceit from her. How she finally comes 'round to his choice is part of the film's would-be cuteness.
We then watch his rise through over 2100 consecutive games before being struck with the neurolgical disease which now bears his name. In the meantime we meet his wife-to-be endearingly played by the late Teresa Wright, his sportswriter pal Walter Brennan, another originally skeptical writer played by Dan Duryea, plus the real Babe Ruth and other well-known players of the period. The film was nominated for 11 Oscars, but only received one for editing. From sixty-odd years' perspective, one can see that the movie is somewhat fatally padded out to reach its running length of well over two hours including a totally unnecessary night club scene featuring a pair of ballroom dancers which seems to go on forever. However, all this fades into a small quibble when one is moved by the grace of Cooper's final speech before leaving the ballfield forever; despite his imminent death, he deems himself the luckiest man in the world and one feels lucky as well to have known him.
Disappeared!
Friday, 18 July 2008
It's Golden Oldie Time!
After viewing two 2008 films in the last week, I felt it time to go back to my first love -- films from cinema's golden past, especially since I've a lot on my mind of late and it helps being taken back to a simpler and more charming world. Of course I thoroughly enjoyed the two recent movies reviewed below, but neither was able to take me outside myself in the same way. So what have I seen?
The Man Who Could Work Miracles (1936): This British film is a Korda production based on an H.G. Wells book and stars Roland Young, ever associated with Topper, in one of his few non-Hollywood roles of the period. One of the all powerful gods in the sky feels that mankind should be given more powers and decides to experiment on one meek draper's assistant. When Young finds that he can make the material world do his bidding, but not the emotional world, everyone wants a piece of him -- whether for limitless material wealth or for unthought-out do-gooding. Everyone wants to be the one to advise him or use him and everyone ultimately wants to protect their own interests. It's a lovely fantasy as the meek man strives to please himself, but in the end realises that it is folly to try to improve upon what is and that disaster is just a mad wish away.
The Good Earth (1937): I believe that this was the last prestige production from Irving Thalberg before his death and is based on an epic novel by Pearl Buck. Of course no one saw any big problem with assorted Hollywood actors playing Chinese peasants, but character actor Paul Muni and Austrian Luise Rainer (winning her second best actress Oscar for the second year in a row) give it their best shot. I suppose this casting is just about preferable to seeing Katharine Hepburn play Chinese in "Dragon Seed" a few years later. On many levels the movie is an overlong pot-boiler of emotions but it's all so professionally put together that the viewer suspends disbelief as one is taken through starvation, revolution, folly, and plagues of locusts. They absolutely don't make them like this anymore!
I Married a Witch (1942): This is another completely appealing fantasy from director Rene Clair and is short enough and charming enough to entrance. Would-be State Governor Frederic March, the descendant of New England witch hunters, is about to be married to bossy Susan Hayward, when a lightning strike frees the ghosts of Veronica Lake and Cecil Kellaway from the tree where they were entombed some 270 years before after being burned for witchcraft. Now neither March nor Lake are normally associated with light comic roles, but they work well together here, while her tipsy father Kellaway is dead set on revenge but can't quite remember all the necessary spells to stop their growing attraction. Some nice special effects as well (but not quite as nifty as those in the Roland Young film above).
If things are getting on top of you, there is definitely something to be said for looking for an escape in the fantasies of the past.
Wednesday, 16 July 2008
The Forbidden Kingdom (2008)
Short of preview showings, I seldom drag myself to the cinema to watch new releases. However the long-promised pairing of martial arts superstars Jackie Chan and Jet Li was sufficient lure in this instance. While the fight choreography by the fabled Woo-Ping Yuen was everything I could hope for (with neither of them getting the upper hand against each other), I couldn't help but despair at the American mindset that feels that Asian stars must be paired with American ones to appeal. The American in this instance isn't even a well-known one, but a youngster called Michael Angarano who certainly does not deserve to be in such exalted company.
After some bullying and violence in his Boston neighbourhood, he is magically transported back to ancient China where he is fated to restore the Monkey King back to life by returning the staff that he has brought with him. He encounters Chan's drunken fighter, Li in the dual role of the Monkey King and a monk, a succulent local lass seeking revenge, the evil Jade Lord, and a witch reminiscent of the bride with white hair. Despite a number of scenes in subtitled Mandarin, most of the dialogue is in English which remains something of an effort for the two main leads and the audience. Further disbelief occurs when the youngster seems to become a kung fu adept in a matter of days under Chan's tutelage.
Despite these quibbles, I did enjoy the film. The American writer and director obviously have a reverential soft spot for the genre and the fight scenes were pretty spectacular. Both Chan (also playing an aged pawnbroker in the Boston scenes) and Li were excellent. Li seemed to be particularly enjoying himself -- not something we see often -- with the Monkey King antics, although I could have done without the scene where he pissed on Chan as the latter prayed for water! All of the remaining Chinese cast and technical staff were fine as well. It's just a shame that the lustre of this long-awaited pairing was slightly dimmed by the emphasis on the nerdy youngster whose story it was.
Sunday, 13 July 2008
WALL-E (2008)
I was privileged to attend a preview of this latest Pixar film which has received nearly universal critical acclaim -- all thoroughly deserved. However watching the movie in a mixed audience loaded with youngsters, I couldn't help wondering if this is a film that adults will find enchanting while kiddies couldn't care less. The young lad sitting in front of me seemed to be spending his time playing video games on his mobile (if I'd been his parent, I would have confiscated it for the duration), while the group of girls to my left went out in the middle of the movie to purportedly buy sweets and didn't return until the near end. I sincerely doubt that any of these kids was as enchanted with the film as Michael and I were. Still given Pixar's track record the movie will almost certainly do well at the box office and on DVD, but I somehow don't see it becoming a movie which youngsters will watch and rewatch.
That is not to say that the film isn't absolutely brilliant and on so many levels probably the best animation ever to emerge from the studio. Apart from ambient sound and carefully selected music, the first half of the movie is virtually silent. Our eponymous hero is the last automated trash compactor left on a deserted and barren planet earth, but he is not just an empty machine. He decorates his "home" with items salvaged from the trash and yearns for love and company, inspired by a clip from "Hello Dolly" which he watches over and over. Into his world comes a robot probe from a space colony, a sleek white and destructive female called EVE, who has been sent to establish whether there are any signs warranting a return to the abandoned planet. When she is taken back into her mother ship, WALL-E stows away and the final adventure begins.
When inordinate amounts of rubbish caused by the high powered marketing of an all-present corporation called Buy 'n Large resulted in earth being abandoned, life continued on a huge space ship where every need and desire was pandered to by the corporate masters, to the extent that humans grew fat and lazy and more or less lost their bone structure and mobility. So here we have the gist of the tale -- it's a scathing indictment against our misuse of the planet and our own susceptibility to mega-marketing. That the growing love between our two robots and the chaos they create manages to reverse 700 years of indolence is the film's message of hope.
With no dependence on celebrity voicing or cute little songs or furry animals (the only other survivor on earth is a cockroach), this is just pure and simply imaginative and amazing animation. The movie is also loaded with cinematic references to other films, especially "2001", which again will appeal to the critics and to the adults in the audience but which will almost certainly pass right over the heads of the younger viewers. It's a pity that the young boy sitting in front of me seemed to think that his game-player was better entertainment. When he grows up, he might think differently.
WALL-E, Pixar
Friday, 11 July 2008
Sweet Movie (1974)
You all have heard of my famous "little list" of movies that I want to see but have so far missed. However, sometimes when I catch up with a film, I can't recall why I listed it in the first place or why I wanted to see it. This movie is a case in point and has something to offend just about everyone! It scandalously premiered at Cannes and nearly killed off the careers of its director and main leads. The director is the Yugloslav Dusan Makavejev (although this film was made in Canada, the Netherlands, and other western Eurpoean countries and is largely in English). I had (some many years ago) seen his previous film "W.R:Mysteries of the Organism" (1971) and hadn't really cottoned to it. Both films are inspired by the writings of sex therapist Wilhelm Reich which is probably not the best starting point for any sort of coherent narrative.
This film is split between the stories of two women. The first Carol Laure is "Miss Canada" and wins a virginity contest (!) to become the wife of a multi-billionaire with a golden penis and an aversion to actual physical contact. When she is appalled by his desire to only pee on her, a musclebound black packs her in a suitcase and dispatches her to Paris where she is deflowered on the Eiffel Tower by an ex-Mr. B. Bardot. She then is taken catatonic to a commune in Vienna where she and the audience are "treated" (NOT the right word) to an explosion of bodily fluids: vomiting, urinating, defecating, you name it. She ends up as a naked model bathing and masturbating in melted chocolate for an advertisement to promote the product.
The other woman is a Polish barge captain on the Amsterdam canals in a vessel named "Survival" with a vast papier-mache head of Karl Marx on the prow. The barge is full of sweets and beds of sugar which she uses to entice children (cue paedophile sex -- off-screen) and a sailor fugitive from the Potemkin. All of these she manages to kill before their beginning to return to life at the end of the film, suggesting that "it's only a movie" and that life IS really sweet.
Tucked in the middle of all this is some black and white documentary footage of the discovery of the mass graves at the Katyn Massacre.
As I said at the start, there is something to upset every viewer -- in my case I can't bear to watch on-screen vomiting in any movie -- but being offensive seems scant justification for making a film. Yes, it is a definite curiosity, but not one that I can recommend to you in good conscience.
Wednesday, 9 July 2008
The Wicker Man (2006)
This was set to be the shortest review ever on my blog: one word - "Why? "- as in whatever possessed the people behind this film to think that they could improve upon the original 1973 movie by remaking it or even "reimagining" it? To describe it as a failure is being too kind to failures in general; it is nothing short of an abomination.
Although the original film from a screenplay by dramatist Anthony Shaffer has itself been chopped about since its creation and only recently can be more or less seen in the form originally intended, it remains a landmark of British moviemaking, not just as a horror film but as one commenting on the continuing power of the old religions -- beautifully shot and beautifully scored. Writer-director Neil LeBute, somewhat of a misogynist one feels, has relocated the story to an island in the Puget Sound inhabited by a weird matriarchal society headed by Ellen Burstyn and including untrustworthy, witchy females like Ruth Conroy, Molly Parker, and Leelee Sobieski. The leader of the pagan community in the original film was Christopher Lee who brought rather more gravitas to the role. However the biggest mistake was casting Nicolas Cage in the lead -- although I believe this remake was largely his doing. Whereas Edward Woodward in the original was the perfect potential sacifice, being both a virgin and a devout Christian, Cage probably could not picture himself in either of these categories and comes across as a loudmouth and insensitive lout. Also missing are the signs of oldtime customs and ritual, to say nothing about the very memorable Britt Eckland character.
I can think of only one reason for this movie existing. Perhaps it will inspire viewers to discover the original and absolutely brilliant 1973 movie if they do not know it already, while anyone who is familiar with it will share my disgust at the effrontery of Cage's and LeBute's remake.
Monday, 7 July 2008
You'll Never Get Rich (1941)
When one thinks about Fred Astaire's film dance partners apart from Ginger Rogers, Rita Hayworth is not a name that immediately springs to mind, yet they were successfully paired in this lightweight concoction and re-teamed for "You Were Never Lovelier" a year later.
One needs to remember that Hayworth started her career as a dancer and was on the cusp of her reincarnation as a glamorpuss when she made this movie. She and Astaire actually look great together and have remarkable chemistry and despite the rather stupid story, Hayworth also holds her own as both an actress and a light comedienne. There's little to recommend the plot which has producer Robert Benchley -- far from as amusing as he could be -- using choreographer Astaire as a cover against his various dalliances and his suspicious wife. Through a series of unlikely events, Astaire ends up in the army and spends most of his time in the guardhouse, only being let out to help "let's put on a show". If you can forgive some of the idiotic supporting performances, especially a fellow who likes to "double-talk", the movie remains worthwhile for the lead coupling and Cole Porter's (minor) musical score. One of his tunes (Since I Kissed my Baby Goodbye) was actually Oscar-nominated, despite the fact that it was from a guardhouse scene and performed by a number of black musicians from the 4 Tones and the Delta Rhythm Boys, including Chico Hamilton (all uncredited). The irony is that the U.S. army was totally segregated in those days and there are no other black faces at this particular training camp.
One last word on Astaire: choosing between him and "The Irishman" (Kelly) doesn't quite fall into the Buster Keaton vs. Charlie Chaplin dichotomy, since I like them both. If I had to choose, I would probably go for Astaire for his sheer elegance. I must reluctantly admit, however, that he does tend to look at his feet (a la Ruby Keeler) much of the time and lacks Kelly's virility, but his inventiveness, exuberance, and the way he made all of his partners look good endures. He even makes a minor film like this one remain watchable.
Saturday, 5 July 2008
How to Get Ahead in Advertising (1989)
I vaguely recalled my previous viewing of this movie some many years ago, but when I found a freebie DVD from a while back gathering dust, I decided that my recollection was hazy indeed. While it is generally billed as a comedy, it is really something of a satire on consumer consumption and how the ad-men increasingly control our wants, needs, and life. However there is a very bitter and black streak under the preposterous premise.
Written and directed by erstwhile actor Bruce Robinson, it is his follow-on film from British cult fave "Withnail and I" (1987), the semi-autobiographical tale of the drunken japes of two unemployed actors, which brought Richard E. Grant his subsequent career. Grant takes the lead here again as a disillusioned advertising executive unable to come up with a good ploy to sell a new pimple cream. As he begins to crack under the stress with increasingly outlandish behaviour, much to the concern of his lovely wife (Rachel Ward), they notice that a boil has erupted on his neck. This quickly develops into the "head" of the title; it talks advertising jargon, and soon takes over from Grant's original declining head. For trivia addicts I should note that the boil is voiced by Robinson. The new-headed Grant is the consumer's nightmare as he seeks initially to make boils and pimples glamourous and to ultimately, one feels, seek world dominance. All in all this is a pretty far-out concept for a movie and it did little to further Robinson's career which continues to limp along. However as the "Withnail" creator, he will always hold a hallowed place in many a student's heart.
Wednesday, 2 July 2008
Alone in the Dark (2005)
I think I upset a few people at last year's FrightFest where director Uwe Boll made a personal appearance (and surprisingly went down a treat) by walking out of the second of his two dire movies shown there. I count myself amongst the hundreds of film fans who think that Boll is as rotten a director as Ed Wood, but with bigger budgets and without Wood's naive (and somehow charming) awfulness.
This film is not to be confused with the rather jolly 1982 movie of the same title where a group of loonies including Jack Palance, Donald Pleasence, and Martin Landau take over the asylum. In fact I would be hard-pressed to even attempt to tell you what this dismal farrago was about. Based on an Atari video game of the same title, it joins most other game adaptations by being full of slam-bam action sequences without any discernible story. This film is so heavily reliant on background material both in printed titles at the beginning and by subsequent voiceover, that there is the potential for any number of interesting developments, none of which are given to the viewer here. It's all something about a lost tribe of Indians who unleashed the powers of darkness and about some latter-day mad scientist who recreated these spirits in orphaned children. As one does.
Christian Slater, who used to have a career, makes a noble stab at mouthing the pathetic dialogue and showing his muscles as a psychic researcher. Stephen Dorff, who similarly once was a reliable lead actor, adds absolutely nothing as the head of the government's swat team. And Tara Reed makes the most unbelievable archaeologist ever -- nearly on a par with Denise Richards' Bond rocket scientist. As these three battle CGI monsters against any understandable logic, the casual viewer can only put his head in his hands and wonder what the heck is going on and who the heck gave this hack the bucks to inflict this horror upon us.
Monday, 30 June 2008
Waxworks (1924)
Although I have seen most of the classic German silents from the Weimar days, this was my first viewing of this enchanting movie from director Paul Leni, who like so much other talent ended up in the States where he directed a few stylish silents before dying far too young. While this movie lacks the historical muscle of Caligari and Nosferatu, it has a great deal to commend it to lovers of both silent film and expressionist cinema.
It's technically a three-parter with the framing device of a poet hired by the owner of a wax museum to weave tales around his three main figures: the Caliph of Baghdad, Ivan the Terrible, and Jack the Ripper. The writer and two of the major characters in the stories that follow is played by William (Wilhelm) Dieterle who moved on from his acting days to direct a vast number of Hollywood classics from the early 30s (including "Fashions of 1934" reviewed below) before returning to Europe towards the end of his life. The Caliph is played by Emil Jannings, a pillar of German film and -- let me remind you -- winner of the first acting Oscar with much fun and humour as he lusts for the Baker's wife. Conrad Veidt another classic German silent actor who went on to memorable roles in Britain and the States (including "Casablanca") plays in the dark story of the murderous czar. These first two diversions take up most of the movie leaving only a short time for the tale of Jack the Ripper/Springheel Jack played by Werner Krauss, another notable German actor, but this is filmed so brilliantly in expressionistic, superimposed images that it just about took my breath away. The entire movie is a marvel of stylized design, and with its historic movie credentials outlined above, it is another not-to-be-missed must for lovers of silent cinema.
Friday, 27 June 2008
Tortilla Flat (1942)
I've always been in two minds about this film from the first time I saw it, since it casts (or miscasts) three of Hollywood's brightest stars of the day (Spencer Tracy, John Garfield, and Hedy Lamarr) as poor Mexican immigrants living in Monterey on the California Coast -- that's some colossal miscasting for starters, even if one fondly accepts Tracy's Portuguese fisherman in "Captains Courageous". However there are enough other pleasures to make this movie a worthwhile experience.
Based on the John Steinbeck novel, Tracy is a lazy and somewhat venal rogue whose favourite pastime is drinking with his equally shiftless pals Akim Tamiroff and John Qualen. Garfield is another hot-tempered ne'er-do-well who has just inherited two houses (more like shacks) and who is enamoured of Lamarr's fish factory worker. That such iconic actors are able to more or less inhabit these downbeat roles is something of a miracle. However the picture is stolen from under their noses by Frank Morgan, playing a hermit who lives only for his "boys" -- a ragtag group of dogs including possibly Toto (or a dead ringer) from the "Wizard of Oz". He is saving the money that he earns from collecting firewood -- about two bits a day -- to buy a golden candlestick for St. Francis whom he credits with saving the life of one of his mutts. Tracy initially plans to steal his savings and invites Morgan to move in with the group at the remaining Garfield house (the other having been carelessly burnt down), but is soon won over by Morgan's naive charm. There follows two lovely scenes with Morgan garbed for church in the friends' various clothing to see his candlestick dedicated (with the dogs bursting in during the service) and then alone in the woods with his "boys" where they all experience a religious visitation. The latter is remarkable and memorable in its simplicity.
There's a lot more action including Tracy actually taking a job without wanting anyone to know about it in order to righten things between Garfield and Lamarr, before shifting back at the end of the tale to his preferred carefree indigence. I guess the truth of the matter is that I have a lot of time for Tracy, even when cast in such an unlikely and to some extent hard-to-take role.
Wednesday, 25 June 2008
Frontier(s) (2007)
I understand that there is some sort of horror film festival in the States (not quite like the FrightFest that I attend here) called "Eight Films to Die For" or some such which gathers together new entries and then churns them out onto DVD. I believe that the above French movie was meant to be included in last year's fest, but was dropped at the last moment for being too "strong", although it has turned up on DVD under the same banner.
So having a professed interest in the horror genre, I was quite looking forward to viewing it; however I am less enthusiastic now. While it was extremely nasty, it was not all that original and slots into the subgenre of "torture porn" a la "Hostel" and the like. During a period of civil unrest in Paris, four friends of rainbow ethnic origin flee the city after a heist and after the brother of the only girl -- who incidentally is pregnant -- is shot by the police and dies. They are heading for the Dutch border in two cars. The first pair take refuge at an out-of-the-way hostel peopled by sexually voracious females, submoronic cannibals, and neo-Nazi world-builders, where they are (not so swiftly) subjected to the usual and gory dispatch. When the second pair turn up, they are taken to another cottage built over a disused mine, where only the gal manages to survive and outwit her tormentors until the last reel, where the viewer is left with an ambiguous ending.
Some viewers read this film as one loaded with political parables based on the current French government. Maybe these were intended and do indeed exist, but if so, the message went straight over my head.
Technorati: post is here today and gone tomorrow.
Sunday, 22 June 2008
Edmond (2005)
When one watches as many films as I appear to do, it is no wonder that a good percentage of them are oddities -- and of course it is more fun to write about these than about the popular and widely-reviewed blockbusters. This movie is far from an easy watch, but it is fascinating in its own way. Written by David Mamet, based on his stageplay of the same name, and sensitively directed by Stuart Gordon whom I would normally associate with superior horror movies, William H Macy stars as the dogsbody employee and husband who has finally reached his breaking point. Macy whose association with Mamet goes back to "Oleanna" in 1984, is a fine actor but in the "hangdog" stakes, he is right up there with Stephen Rea and the late Michael Jeter.
Having walked out on his wife, he goes into a bar where he chats with another Mamet regular, Joe Mantegna, who more or less suggests that he needs some good sex to put him right. There follows a series of exceedingly brief and non-consummated meetings with sex workers Denise Richards, Bai Ling, and Mena Suvari. As the evening progresses, things go from bad to worse as he is mugged, beaten, and robbed, before meeting up with bar waitress Julia Stiles. Without giving too much away, what could have been a fruitful encounter dissolves into senseless rage and tragedy. Macy ends up in prison and mortally alone as his talky optimism proves false; yet he finds a surprising and totally unexpected fulfillment which is meant to shock (and does). It's a brave performance, but as mentioned above not an easy one with which to empathise.
(Entry has disappeared!) And again!
Friday, 20 June 2008
Terracotta Warrior (1990)
This is one of a surprising number of films with excellent credentials which are not only little known, but virtually impossible to find a copy. My first copy was taped off German TV which means it was dubbed into German as are nearly all the films shown. I now have a DVD from France which at least presents the film in its original Cantonese, but with only french subtitles (which I can just about cope with). However I fail to see why this film has never been available in any of the English-speaking markets.
What is so special about it -- apart from it being a great deal of fun? Well its co-stars are Zhang Yimou best known as the revered Chinese director of such classics as "Raise the Red Lantern" and "The Story of Qiu Ju" and his then-muse Gong Li, herself an iconic figure in modern Chinese cinema. The story is in two main parts starting some 3000 years ago when the then emperor was searching for an immortality formula, as well as preparing his tomb with its army of soldiers. Zhang plays one of his bodyguards having a tempestuous affair with one of his concubines. When their shame is discovered she throws herself into the flames after passing by mouth an immortality capsule and he is coated in clay to become one of the tomb inhabitants -- the suggestion being that most of the figures were actually disgraced criminals and the like so punished.
Flash forward to the 1930s when Gong Li is playing a would-be film star of questionable intelligence and depth on the set of a film which is actually a front for the search for buried treasure. When a plane crashes beneath the surface of the terrain, the now immortal Zhang emerges from his clay tomb and recognizes his long lost love -- who of course thinks he is some sort of nutcase. There follows a succession of gags as Zhang encounters modern advances for the first time and also some rather spectacular action sequences which would not embarrass better known kung fu stars as he attempts to protect his love. It's all done with a great sense of enjoyment and it is amusing to see Li in such a carefree and silly mode.
For goodness sake, would someone please get this movie onto DVD so that the American and British viewing public can discover this little gem.
Wednesday, 18 June 2008
Sonny (2002)
If Nicolas Cage had not chosen this script for his directing debut, I wonder if the money would ever have been found to put together this misbegotten effort. Set in 1980s New Orleans, James Franco returns home from his stint in the army to the house of his mother, an erstwhile whore and madame, with only one bedraggled Mena Suvari in her current stable. Franco has been selling his sexual prowess under his mother's guidance since the age of twelve (although he is something of a weedy stud), but is now hoping for a new start. This seems increasingly unlikely, as his past is ever present and as he is unable to contain his raging temper.
The dominating mother is played by a screechy Brenda Blethyn and it is a mystery to me why she is chosen for American roles where a native-born actress could only improve on her thick Southern drawl. Meanwhile Franco and Suvari speak a version of English which I can only describe as "mumble". There is a small amount of compensation in the supporting roles, with Harry Dean Stanton impressive as a ne'er do well family friend and Seymour Cassel as his gambling buddy. However I think Brenda Vaccaro is now probably too old and chubby to willingly accept roles that involve her baring her boobies.
Cage takes a cameo role for himself as a powerful local pimp dressed in a banana-yellow suit and a Harpo Marx fright wig, leaving me to wonder if this slice of southern Gothic sex drama could have made more than a couple of bucks at the box office. Hopefully Cage will restrain himself from further directing duties and limit himself to the increasingly dire, but popular, flicks that he manages to churn out.
Monday, 16 June 2008
Fashions of 1934 (1934)
Any film that succeeds in distracting me without putting me to sleep has to be a good thing at the moment, and the above confection is a good thing in spades! This pre-code bit of fluff directed by William Dieterle is absolutely typical of its period with no more noble purpose than to entertain.
Debonair William Powell plays a lovable rogue, living by his wits, without too much concern over the morality of his life. He and sidekick Frank McHugh are "borrowing" Parisian designs before they reach their high-class salons, photographing them, and knocking out cheap copies. When the scam is uncovered, Powell does an underhand deal with three separate fashion firms to be their spy in Paris and to send them all the latest designs. Little do they know that the drawings they are receiving are the brainchild of unemployed designer, Bette Davis, nearly unrecognizable with her platinum blonde hair and heavy make-up, but still a powerful comic presence. Things get even more complicated when Powell sees Verree Teasdale (from New Jersey) who is passing herself off as a Russian princess and who is engaged to French fashion maven Reginald Owen in full camp mode.
Add to the mix heavy-drinking businessman Hugh Herbert who has a warehouse of ostrich feathers to unload. Cue Powell's blackmailing Teasdale into fronting his fashion show, which is preceded by a fabulous Busby Berkely musical number filled with semi-nude showgirls becoming human harps and lashings of the said feathers. The fashions themselves from designer Orry-Kelly are pretty fabulous as well. And for an added bonus, the movie buff can spot uncredited appearances from Arthur Treacher, Jane Darwell, and Hobart Cavanagh. All in all I could do with watching more movies like this one.
Saturday, 14 June 2008
Back in the Saddle (sort of)
I guess the time has come to bite the bullet/grasp the nettle/get cracking/pull myself together/get my finger out (enough from my bag of cliches!) and start trying to blog again on a semi-regular basis. It has been an emotionally draining time since I last wrote, so to start off with an easy exercise, let me run through some of the movies that I have managed to stay awake through on what now seems like an endless run of transatlantic flights over the last month (with several more to come later this summer):
The Brave One (2007): We have Jodie Foster in Charles Bronson-vigilante mode here after a vicious Central Park mugging with detective Terrence Howard on her tail -- a rather unpleasant and unmemorable outing. To accommodate modern sensibilities, the viewer is meant to sympathise completely with her outlawry.
The Darjeeling Limited (2007): Something of a disappointment from creative director Anderson with Owen Wilson, Adrien Brody, and Jason Schwartzman as unlikely and somewhat estranged brothers on a bonding journey in India. Lovely to look at, but dramatically rather forced and ever so slightly too twee.
Away from Her (2006): Canadian actress Sarah Polley wrote and directed this depressing tale which showcases Julie Christie as an Alzheimer victim and showered her with acting kudos. As good as she was, for my money Gordon Pinsent playing her long-suffering husband was the real talent standout.
27 Dresses (2008): I tried the first twenty minutes of "There Will be Blood" but was far from being in the right frame of mind to watch anything so intense, so I watched this completely disposable piece of fluff with likeable Katherine Heigl playing the gal who is always the bridesmaid and never the bride. Just don't ask me to remember much about it...
Charlie Wilson's War (2007): An acting powerhouse from Tom Hanks, Julia Roberts, and a memorable Philip Semour Hoffman in the supposedly true tale of how one louche U.S. Congressman helped get the Russians out of Afghanistan (and land us all with the continuing Taleban mess -- which is not part of what is meant to be an uplifting story).
The Heartbreak Kid (2007): A completely unnecessary remake from Ben Stiller of the amusing 1972 Neil Simon play, with its enthnicity removed -- to nogood effect -- as our desperate 40ish hero marries Malin Akerman in haste and falls for Michelle Monaghan on his honeymoon. Pretty dire stuff!
Walk Hard - The Dewey Cox Story (2007): I gave up on this one halfway through since a little of John C. Reilly spoofing a Johnny Cash-type star makes a little go too long a way.
Semi-Pro (2008): Yet another sporting movie from increasingly-unfunny Will Ferrell as a pop star who buys and plays with an underdog basketball team. Woody Harrelson and Andre Benjamin don't add much in support and it's probably about time that Mr. Ferrell searches for a new string to his bow.
And that's just some of the generally lightish offerings that I viewed in the sky, in the pursuit of getting myself back in the groove. Hopefully one of these days I will be...
Saturday, 24 May 2008
Interruption of Service...
The absence of reviews over recent days is accounted for by a death in the family -- my mother, a most remarkable lady -- and the need to be Stateside. While I am currently back in London, I must return to the U.S. shortly, the first of a number of necessary trips in the weeks/months to come.
And although this will provide any number of in-flight movies which I would normally cast my beady eye upon, my head is just not sufficiently together to share my thoughts. Maybe sometime soon I can resume the personal pleasure that this journal provides me.
Rest in peace, Mom; you will be remembered and missed...
Monday, 12 May 2008
Good Morning Babylon (1987)
Although I had seen this film previously, I remembered little about it apart from an idyllic middle section which I recalled as enchanting. Unfortunately while it indeed does retain some memorable sequences, I can't really say that I was overly taken with this second go. It was the first English language movie from the Italian Taviani brothers, although the action was bookended by Italian-speaking sequences, but it didn't really work since most of the actors apart from native English-speakers Vincent Spano, Greta Scacchi, and Charles Dance -- playing the genteel Southern showman D.W. Griffiths -- seemed more than a little uncomfortable with their dialogue. It also didn't help that the story which focused on the early days of Hollywood was filmed exclusively at Cinecitta and on location in Pisa.
None of this would matter enormously if the directors' fantasy about moviemaking worked, but the execution was unnecessarily convoluted. The film opens in Italy with the seven sons of a master craftsman completing the restoration of a basilica only to be told by their father that he is winding up the business. The two youngest and most gifted sons set off to make their fortune in America with the intention of returning to Italy to reinstate the family firm. They have little joy finding work which utilises their talents until they meet up with a work force building the Italian pavilion at the San Francisco Expo. Griffith is taken with the skill of the architect's vision and wants to use him to design the sets for his long-cherished project "Intolerance". However the team leaders have returned to Italy and the two brothers can not get past the (for want of a better word) intolerance of the production manager and can only find menial work at the studio. It is only after they construct a huge papier mache elephant in the forest (this was the so-called enchanting bit that I recalled) that they finally get their big break -- despite their creation having been destoyed by the aforesaid manager -- and are taken on by Griffith to help him realise his dream film set.
So far so good, but there is not enough focus on the mocked-up Hollywood scene. The directors are trying to make the point that cinema can create its own monuments which are as concrete and long-lasting as those of a master painter or sculptor which would be fine if we hadn't already lost a big chunk of early films. The "Intolerance" premier is the high point of this film, but it unfortunately then degenerates into melodrama with the death of one brother's wife in childbirth and some final scenes set in Italy during the Great War where the two estranged and wounded brothers, each fighting for a different army, finally reconcile. SPOILER ALERT: That they record their last moments on newsreel footage as a legacy to their sons is taking the directors' take on the power of film just a wee bit too far.
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