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.

Tags: Waxworks, silent cinema, Jannings, Veidt, Leni

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.  

Tags: Tortilla Flat, Spencer Tracy, miscasting, naive religion

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.

 

Tags: Frontier(s), French nasties, ping problem

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!

Tags: Edmond, William H Macy, Mamet, ping-ping, and ping

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.

Tags: Terracotta Warrior, Zhang Yimou, Gong Li

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.

Tags: Sonny, Nicholas Cage, Southern Gothic

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.

Tags: Fashions of 1934, William Powell, Bette Davis, pre-code films

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...

Tags: Crummy in-flight movies, the blogger returns