I Shot Andy Warhol.

Review #2519: I Shot Andy Warhol.

Cast: 

Lili Taylor (Valerie Solanas), Jared Harris (Andy Warhol), Stephen Dorff (Candy Darling), Martha Plimpton (Stevie), Lothaire Bluteau (Maurice Girodias), Anna Levine (Iris), Peter Friedman (Alan Burke), Tahnee Welch (Viva), Jamie Harrold (Jackie Curtis), Donovan Leitch (Gerard Malanga), Jim Lyons (Billy Name), Michael Imperioli (Ondine), and Reg Rogers (Paul Morrissey) Directed by Mary Harron (#1984 - American Psycho)

Review: 

"I was amazed, because, apart from saying that she shot him and she was crazy, nobody had ever talked about Valerie Solanas. So I had this idea for an anti-documentary. It was never going to be conventional. My thinking was, what if you took the most obscure person in this glamorous circle, and that most obscure, most despised pariah turned out to be the most interesting person of them all? What if you did a kind of reverse hagiography, where you take this person in the shadows and put them in the center? Now, how I was going to do that, I didn’t know. I just had this burning desire to make a film about her."

I suppose this is the best way to dip the toes into the world of Andy Warhol. Once upon a time, Mary Harron was in the punk scene and into The Velvet Underground, the rock band with a distinct influence within the underground scene that mixed right in with Warhol being their manager from 1966 to 1967. In college, Harron had written a piece about Warhol and his work for a university magazine and even spent time looking upon his movies. When she became a music writer, she was fortunate enough to have a brief interview with Warhol around his studio of The Factory (he subsequently died in 1987). A couple of years later, when working in television, she did research for a Warhol documentary and happened to come across the SCUM Manifesto (self-published in 1967 before becoming commercially published in 1968 through Maurice Girodias and his Olympia Press) in a store that interested her because for all the footage and interviews one knew of Warhol and the Factory, one name never really came up with Valerie Solanas. Her interest in doing a documentary happened to crisscross with Tom Kalin and Christine Vachon in doing something...as a film. Harron co-wrote the film with Daniel Minahan (with research by Diane Tucker along with having certain dialogue come from Jeremiah Newton's edited compilation The Letters and Diaries of Candy Darling) and the movie had funding from a variety of companies such as Killer Films and Goldwyn Films International. John Cale of the Underground wrote the music score for the film despite disagreements with Lou Reed. The movie made a bit of money and was enough of a hit with its screening at Sundance that the offer to do the script for American Psycho came right afterwards. The years that followed the release of the movie is fairly interesting. The movie was released by a company that soon went bankrupt and the rights were in murky limbo for a time to where it was barely available on DVD and it apparently was once only available online through a rip on YouTube. Solanas had crafted a play called Up Your Ass that she had given a copy to Warhol that was accidentally misplaced - in 1999, it was rediscovered and produced in 2000 in San Francisco by George Coates Performance Works*. Further information about Solanas came around with the 2014 biography Valerie Solanas: The Defiant Life of the Woman Who Wrote SCUM (and Shot Andy Warhol)*.

You might wonder what Solanas (a graduate of University of Maryland, College Park) has to offer in terms of a manifesto. Well, its opening declaration [with one word difference depending on the edition] states that women should "overthrow the government, eliminate the money system, institute complete automation and eliminate [destroy] the men" (incidentally, there are a few moments in black-and-white that depict stuff from the manifesto being read). She sold copies in bookstores and on the streets of Greenwich Village for $1 (unless you were a guy, then it was $2) and even appeared in one Warhol film with I, a Man (1967). One person associated with Warhol once stated that life around the sphere of Warhol ended up making them "all captives of Andy's magnetism and his outlaw culture". Amidst all of that, Solanas might as well be an imp to these self-obsessed people that can't quite get the recognition they believe they deserve,and Taylor carries the film to fascinating levels of curiosity. It isn't a lament of a "tortured genius" or just a "craven nut" but instead something that teeters in the irony that comes in so many contradictions that can be tragic along with being fascinating. There is a burning, acerbic spirit to her that you can't exactly shoo away as an irrational being because damn it, there are plenty of irrational people to go around anyway, even if most don't go around shooting people and getting their own spin of a bio-drama.  Harris pulls in well with shades of vulnerability and elusiveness (without being a caricature to poke with) that you can't easily grab upon beyond the obvious that might as well reflect how one views Warhol and his art, for better or worse.  The real Solanas spent time in a prison ward and periods of evaluation over her mental state (mainly the paranoid schizophrenia) before she essentially faded into obscurity by the late 1970s and died in San Francisco in 1988 at just the age of 52. Regardless of how one might view Solanas and her view of men (as represented by, say, this exchange here or this one), there is something quite fascinating about what Herron has captured here about someone who lived by their contradictions. As such, this is a worthwhile debut in its capture of a misfit that doesn't judge or defend but instead lets the images and words speak for themselves in entertaining fashion that is a strange little gem.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Song of the day

*Apparently, Warhol was quoted in a book in the 1980s that he apparently glanced at the play and was more concerned with wondering if she was actually an undercover cop. By the way, that gunshot was brutal: he got shot in a way that had damage to his lungs, esophagus, liver, spleen, and stomach.

*For one thing, Solanas actually had children at a young age but had to give them away. 

*honestly, the fact that there was an anarchic group named "Up Against the Wall Motherfucker" in the 1960s shouldn't surprise me.

Project Hail Mary.

Review #2518: Project Hail Mary.

Cast: 

Ryan Gosling (Dr. Ryland Grace), Sandra Hüller (Eva Stratt), James Ortiz (the voice and lead puppeteer of Rocky), Lionel Boyce (Officer Carl), Ken Leung (Yáo Li-Jie), Milana Vayntrub (Olesya Ilyukhina), Priya Kansara (the voice of Mary), Liz Kingsman (Annie Shapiro), Mia Soteriou (Dr. Browne), and Orion Lee (Dr. Li) Directed by Phil Lord and Christopher Miller (#540 - The Lego Movie, #568 - 21 Jump Street, #940 - Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs)

Review: 

Sure, a space adventure worth seeing in a movie theater. You might remember that the last adaptation of an Andy Weir novel adaptation came around with The Martian back in 2015 that had Drew Goddard write the screenplay that dealt with one man trying to deal with the tough circumstances of being adrift in space (I will be honest in saying I haven't watched The Martian since that one screening). Oh, and I suppose there is plenty of science-spelunking (my word, not the words of the movie) in trying to deal with basically being a one-human show. Actually, I take that back, there are a few other differences (namely in that this film mostly spends its time adrift in space with a parallel narrative about regaining one's memory*), but it really did come to mind when hearing about this movie (I don't do "buzz heard from other people", I barely have friends to recommend movies so "screw it" is the way to go). The "hard science fiction" novel was published in 2021 with a clear interest in real science and, well, themes in isolation (for further information involving one look at what looks like science and what looks like science fiction, you can inquire here) that had rumblings of a film adaptation almost immediately. This feature (distributed by Amazon MGM Studios*) is the first film directed by Phil Lord and Christopher Miller since 22 Jump Street way back in 2014, having been busy in producing films. Evidently, there are a bit of differences between the novel and the film (one involves the reasoning being modified from one of biology to one of happenstance), but so it goes.

It is a decent movie, mainly when you feel that there is something worth enjoying in its odyssey. It looks upon the future and tries to present it as something to figure out rather than fear that might be worth 156 minutes of time. It isn't so much the quest for figuring out what one is going to do about star eaters and the sun because it really is a film of relationships and figuring out the how and why of things mattering. It just happens to have a bit of puppetry that also isn't too infested with fake sets (to throw you a curveball, maybe it would make a neat pairing in one-man sustainment with Cast Away [2000]). It all rests on Gosling's shoulders to basically show him finding a true friend among the stars. Well, you might say there are friendly moments on Earth, but I think the stuff between him and "Rocky" is fascinating, mainly in that slowburn of getting communication down number by number. Ortiz (as head puppeteer of a character with a handful of puppets) and his riffing with Gosling has a certain type of warmth that basically does work better than if it was Gosling interacting with a guest voice. That's not to say that the moments spent with Hüller* are ho-hum, because she does make a compelling figure of pragmatic grace before, well, having a neat little scene involving karaoke that basically makes the last we see of them and Gosling all the more compelling in where it ends up. I can't exactly tell why the movie doesn't quite reach greatness (or get around to the level of say, Interstellar [2014]), which I guess comes down to it just being an adequate crowd-pleaser over being a really involving one, particularly at a certain point when the familiarity element becomes all too apparent. To be "goofy" can be a blessing or a curse depending on what you think the word means. At least the ending is suitable enough to make the trip worth it when it comes to figuring out what actually matters in being more than just one person among the universe. As a whole, it's a pleasantly fine charmer for where it wants to go in entertainment value within sentimental commitment that leads to a few good chuckles and some hope within its adventure that will be reasonably satisfying for those who know what they are getting into.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Song of the day!

*Yes, I forgot Amazon MGM was a thing. Also, they only distributed it in America and Canada, Sony Pictures Releasing International is everywhere else.

*Not to spoil much, but, one wonders, regardless of how petty or ridiculous that this sounds, if the first thing that a person in Grace's shoes would do if they somehow managed to get back to Earth after all they went through and managed to find Stratt...to just immediately punch them in the face. What? 

*She is a licensed forklift operator. No, really.

*Audience count for my Wednesday afternoon screening: zero. Oh well.

Making Mr. Right.

Review #2517: Making Mr. Right.

Cast: 

John Malkovich (Dr. Jeff Peters/Ulysses), Ann Magnuson (Frankie Stone), Glenne Headly (Trish), Ben Masters (Steve Marcus), Laurie Metcalf (Sandra "Sandy" McCleary), Polly Bergen (Estelle Stone), Harsh Nayyar (Dr. Ramdas), Hart Bochner (Don), Susan Berman (Ivy Stone), Polly Draper (Suzy Duncan), Christian Clemenson (Bruce), Merwin Goldsmith (Moe Glickstein) Directed by Susan Seidelman (#1987 - Smithereens, #2186 - Desperately Seeking Susan)

Review: 

"I was so happy with the response to that screening, because, when a movie is a flop, people tend to not want to talk about it. I loved making “Making Mr. Right,” but people seem to not want to bring up the fact that it was a flop at the box-office or hurt my feelings. It was in theatres for such a short amount of time, and then it was never really pushed on DVD. So Metrograph was the first time I had seen it with an audience up on a big screen in thirty years. And I laughed! I always thought maybe people didn’t get the style. It’s an A.I. romantic comedy."

Admittedly, this is the kind of movie you might try out on the back end of a to-do list of movie packs and obligations. This was one of the six movies on a "6 Comedies [MGM]" collection (next to Honeymoon in Vegas, Overboard, Speechless, Baby Boom, and Real Men) that I bought many years ago, and, well, it finally dovetailed with Susan Seidelman. This was her third feature film as a director and she played some influence on the script that had been written by Floyd Byars and Laurie Frank in 1985, specifically in the shift in focus from a Frankenstein-type story to one resembling Pygmalion. For whatever reason, the main production company behind this was Barry & Enright Productions, a TV company originally formed by Jack Barry and Dan Enright in the 1940s that occasionally produced movies (most notably with Private Lessons [1981]). Distributed by Orion Pictures to minimal audience returns, Seidelman's next feature came with Cookie in 1989*; Seidelman has expressed no hard feelings about how the film went, even attending a Q&A screening for the film in recent years.

So, what's the movie about? Well, in the (presumably) near future, a scientist makes an android (which happens to look just like him) and is priming it for deep space exploration that dovetails right with a PR consultant (recently dumped) that is hired to help humanize the android for the project sponsors. It starts its attempts at capturing the vibe of someone who might fall for, say, a robot by having an opening that shows an old-fashioned dumping and shaving while going to work. For a 99-minute movie, it might wind up as light fare, but there is an earnest spirit about the movie (namely because it has a fairly neat style in terms of its setting and look that will surely inspire interest from those who know what retro-futurism is) that I like enough to at least say is at least a possible small gem as a comedy of errors. It just happens to have a bit of deference to those who might have an interest in something different from the perceived normal, particularly since most of the men in the film are, well, kooks (at least Robert Trebor* is delightfully smarmy for a small role), particularly in their feelings. So it isn't just "but is the robot fully functional?*", it's a comedy about people who really need to know what they want out of life, people, and, well, themselves. It might interest you to know that this was the one big role for Magnuson, who had dabbled in music and a few minor film roles (such as Desperately Seeking Susan). She apparently actually wanted the supporting role that ended up being cast for Headly but it seems Seidelman saw something worthwhile in her that comes out here. There is a certain type of moxie that comes through with her that I can't help but enjoy in a whimsical sense (besides, she has one line that is basically the lifeblood of the chaotic worker: "I'm always late; but, I'm worth it."). The make-or-break comes with Malkovich and his dual role as one who can't stand people and one who wants to understand things beyond what he was made for. So one side gets to play the hapless oddball and the other lumbers around with a ditzy sense of timing, and it generally works out for a few quirky moments. Whether it really is all that convincing is up to you (stranger people have fallen for stranger things), I suppose. The others in the cast have a few little moments of charm that spring for amusement in the crisscross of oddballs and Miami chic, whether that involves a brief interlude with the loopy Metcalf or the charming Headly. As a whole, Making Mr. Right just couldn't find the right audience when it really mattered for those who like some offbeat romantic comedies, suffice to say. But if you like the idea of a movie that pokes at the odd quirks that come with people that don't have everything figured out in their personal lives that happens to involve romance with a robot, you might have a hidden winner here.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Song of the day!

 

*Cookie had Peter Falk and Dianne Wiest, but She-Devil (1991) which paired Meryl Streep (who I'm sure other people know pretty well, but...) with, and I'm not kidding: Roseanne. 

*Hey, I imagine people are still waiting (but obviously not saying out loud, on the internet, or in conversation) for sex robots, it isn't that hard of a question to ask if you can put your ding-dongs in 'em.

*I remember Trebor well from Hercules: The Legendary Journeys, where he regularly appeared as Salmoneus - he was pretty funny in that show. He passed away just last year - RIP.

Tank Girl.

Review #2516: Tank Girl.

Cast: 

Lori Petty (Tank Girl), Ice-T (T-Saint), Naomi Watts (Jet Girl), Malcolm McDowell (Kesslee), Don Harvey (Sgt. Small), Jeff Kober (Booga), Reg E. Cathey (Deetee), Scott Coffey (Donner), Stacy Linn Ramsower (Sam), Ann Cusack (Sub Girl), Brian Wimmer (Richard), Iggy Pop (Rat Face), Ann Magnuson (The Madam), Dawn Robinson (Model), Billy L. Sullivan (Max), James Hong (Che'tsai), Charles Lucia (Capt. Derouche), with Harlan Clark (Additional Ripper), Doug Jones (Ripper), Ata Scanlan (Additional Ripper), Alvarez Wortham (Additional Ripper), and Roz Witt (Dr. Nikita) Directed by Rachel Talalay (#1144 - Freddy's Dead: The Final Nightmare)

Review: 

"It’s such an iconic image. I think all strong women react in the same way to this outspoken crazed female icon. I was such a punk warrior. When I went in to pitch it – I mean, all you had to do was show the image. And when we sent the script out, the cover page was a comic book page. Even now when I talk to people who design for video games they say that there’s never a pitch for a female character that doesn’t include an image from Tank Girl. She’s the tough, punk warrior woman. She’s the icon of that. And every tough, interesting woman I know wants to be her."

I will admit that I had vaguely heard of this movie for years but was just lazy to see it (I first heard of this movie from the Nostalgia Critic* many years ago). Apparently, Rachel Talalay was given a Tank Girl comic to read by her stepdaughter when shooting her first film with Freddy's Dead: The Final Nightmare (1991). Tank Girl first appeared in print in 1988 in Deadline (a British comic magazine) that was developed by Alan Martin and artist Jamie Hewlett; you might be interested to know that Hewlett, whose drawings were extracted for use in the title sequence of the film, later moved into a place with Blur's Damon Albarn that led to them being involved with the virtual band Gorillaz in 1998*. Talalay (the unpaid production assistant-turned-accountant-turned-producer-turned-director) got interested in doing a movie and found the Deadline publisher was already trying to find a studio. Eventually, MGM/United Artists became involved with doing the film (Talalay apparently rejected an offer from Disney, believing that they would not allow the amount of violence/sexual references required). Talalay then picked Catherine Hardwicke to be the production designer, while Tedi Sarafian wrote the screenplay. Made on a budget of $25 million in New Mexico and Arizona (mostly in an abandoned open-pit mine), there were considerable edits made by the studio that ranged from a "naked Ripper suit", edits to the torture scene, edits to one role in particular, and, naturally, the original ending where Tank Girl burps as it starts to rain. The animated sequences (as done by Mike Smith) were put in because they didn't have the money to do the action sequences (apparently the tank wasn't particularly fast). Martin and Hewlett did not like the finished product, believing in a subsequent interview that nobody could really make a successful movie of the character (as for Tank Girl, it went through a hiatus before returning for an on-and-off basis since 2007). Talalay and Petty were proud enough of the film that they did a live viewing party of the film in 2020.

Imagine: it's the year 2033 and all the water is gone. It's a freewheeling, bratty, odd little movie...and I can't help but like it. It's strange too, because a good chunk of the critiques of the film could just as easily be spun around for people (like me, only I probably won't go into detail about feminism, because, well, good luck with that*) that praise the film as a zany and free-spirited mess. There is a certain type of charm that appeals to me for most of its 104-minute runtime in its energy that is infectious. Apparently, the production team did not expect to get the services of Stan Winston but go figure, they were so enthusiastic that they cut their usual rates in half to meet the budget for the Rippers you see on screen: articulated ears and tails activated remotely and, well, no puppetry. Suffice to say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but hey, half man/kangaroo, I can roll with it for a movie that likes to lurk in a offbeat wasteland (your milage may vary over how it would've gone if the film had not been edited down to, uh, take out the prosthetic penis). Petty (cast after consideration to go with Emily Lloyd) is delightfully loony enough to make for an entertaining antihero, one who has their own kinks and interests that could turn anything to make a crack at. Far be it from a movie that asks about power or the circumstances of what a wasteland looks like, you just get an unruly movie that has time to have a music interlude of "Let's Do It". Evidently, McDowell had a few decent memories making the movie, and, yes, this seems right up his alley to play a villain that loves water so much that he stabs people with a device that sucks the water right out of their body. How could one not enjoy him here? The rest of the cast roll along with causal engagement with a movie that moves to its own beat, for better or worse. As a whole, Tank Girl is the kind of movie that clicked enough for me to have fun with, although I can understand where it didn't exactly rock the world back in 1995. Offbeat and anarchic in ways that can be off-putting to those with less patience

 

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Song of the day!

*For a time, the Critic was my jam alongside Cinemassacre. And The Cinema Snob, eventually. 

*I used to know someone in college who dug them. The friendship didn't last at all, but at least Gorillaz is pretty decent.

*There was a discussion in a book, once, about talking about what cult films were "feminist" that called this film a "real feminist cult film" while labeling films by Kathryn Bigelow and Catherine Hardwicke as "too masculine", which honestly sounds like sour grapes more than anything.

Evidently, there was a mockumentary for the film, if you love it that much: Tank Girl Documentary 1995

The Bride!

Review #2515: The Bride!

Cast: 

Jessie Buckley (Ida "The Bride" / Mary Shelley), Christian Bale ("Frank"), Annette Bening (Dr. Cornelia Euphronious), Peter Sarsgaard (Jake Wiles), Penélope Cruz (Myrna Malloy), John Magaro (Clyde), Matthew Maher (James), Zlatko Burić (Lupino), Jeannie Berlin (Greta), with Jake Gyllenhaal (Ronnie Reed), Julianne Hough (Iris / Jinx), and Louis Cancelmi (Officer Goodman) Written and Directed by Maggie Gyllenhaal.

Review: 

"Yes, there’s sexual violence. There’s violence. Because it’s a big studio movie, we tested and tested it. We had big screenings in malls, where people came to see it, which I had never been a part of as an actress or a director before. So fascinating. And one of the things that they brought up was the violence: Is it too violent? And I was talking about it with a girlfriend of mine, who said — and she wasn’t being reductive — “I wonder if you had been a man making this movie, if you would have had the same response.”

Admittedly, there was an inkling in my mind that this film could be one to pay attention to for all the wrong reasons. I vaguely remember the promos for the film but mostly I remember the totally edgy "her comes the mother f-" tagline that, believe it or not, is stated uncensored for the film at one point. I will, however, grant one nugget of praise right off the bat: this was a movie originally envisioned for Netflix (who had distributed Gyllenhaal's previous directorial effort, The Lost Daughter [2021] in the States), as it was announced as such in 2023 before Warner Bros. stepped in when there were apparent disputes  between Netflix and director Maggie Gyllenhaal over shooting in New York vs. New Jersey. Incidentally, Netflix distributed their own Frankenstein movie in 2025. Hooray for them, I guess. But hey, The Bride is a Warner Bros. movie that got released into plenty of theaters as a, well, Gothic romance movie. There were a few edits made to the film prior to its release, with one sequence apparently involving Frankenstein licking black vomit off someone's neck. So, there's that too. You might remember that when I reviewed The Bride (1985) a while ago, I made a snide note about the impending Bride film. I will now shamelessly repeat what I said: "God, could you imagine if The Bride! (made for reportedly $80 million scheduled for release 2026) is bad? If it is good, sure, cool. The trailer did not do many favors, but I would desire a tiny trainwreck if possible."

So, let's do a bit of a setup: Mary Shelley came up with Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus because of a suggestion to try writing a ghost story while with a group of Lord Byron and other folks in 1816 that eventually became its own novel in 1818; you might know that in the story, Frankenstein, when begged by the monster to make a female companion, elected to destroy it. Left unmentioned in The Bride is that Shelley wrote a wide variety of novels that ranged from historical in Valperga (1823) to travel books such as Rambles in Germany and Italy (1844) before she died from a tumor in 1851 at the age of 53. Any of what I just said is far more interesting than trying to make heads or tails of what it really means for the film to feature Shelley in the afterlife wanting to tell of a story to follow Frankenstein and possessing a woman in 1936 Chicago that happens to dovetail with the arrival of Frankenstein's monster (who just goes by "Frank") wanting a companion (it is also possible that putting Shelley in the narrative is a way to do a twist on how Bride of Frankenstein had a prologue with Shelley talking about more of a story to tell with Frankenstein). One thing leads to another and, well, as Slap Shot [1977] once stated, "most folk heroes started out as criminals". 

What a weird little movie this is. Aside from the 126-minute runtime, what we have here is a movie that is somehow bloated in its litany of wayward plot threads and characters to barely care about and yet also is begging for something to truly latch onto, even in an exploitative sense. If this was made on a budget of, say, a fraction of a fraction of the reported $80 million with plenty of corners to cut and straight exploitation, maybe you would get something to rival, well, Frankenhooker (1990). But you get a movie that has a proverbial stick up its ass* from the very beginning and never really cuts itself loose for anything that is actually meaningful. Even as a film trying to supposedly say something about the experience of women beyond what you could gleam from say, reading a Wikipedia article. It's pretty funny that a movie that yearns to say something about empowerment has a title character that basically spends most of the movie being misled about their name (well, first name anyway) only to just go with being "The Bride", honestly. The Bride could probably have been edited to run as a comedy and possibly be better for it, what with its bombastic energy that has a dance sequence (hey, if you have one Frankenstein-adjacent film go with the Ritz...) and the, uh, unintentional amusement of a bunch of people putting on garb to look like the title character (with a mantra of brain attack that-, no, wait, nobody will be saying that as a rallying cry, not even to enjoy ice cream) and cut tongues out. For a movie that is set in 1936, at least you will be able to enjoy the scenery every now and then, that much is true. But for all the attempts at dignity and intensity that doesn't want to be pegged as just being a wannabee Natural Born Killers (1994), Buckley and Bale can't save that sinking feeling of "I would prefer not to" when asked if they would say there is something that made you care about these folks. Every single time that Buckley goes to the Shelley Zone makes me giggle a tiny bit in the very idea that it is meant to be taken seriously as some sort of devastating blow for women. Bening* at least looks like she wants to be in a monster movie, while Sarasgaard and Cruz have little to actually do beside fight over who is more wooden. As predictable as it might seem, the movie begs for a real villain or something to root against more than just "the system" or "guy who doesn't say much but I guess it matters that he gets his due at the end" (to say nothing of Buckley's character having to be rescued from sexual assault twice). By the time the movie mashes to a conclusion of, well, something, at least you get the feeling of relief to wash over the disappointment to be had here. As fun as it would've been to call this movie a pile of garbage (hey, if you can't have fun...), I just felt that this was mostly a frustrating experience to go through. But if you like the idea of seeing what the fuss might be about a movie that believes it has something to say about people that happens to have a few people getting stomped, maybe it might be for you.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

Song of the day

*oh how could I resist

*Crowd count for this movie at 10:45am: zero, which actually is not a new phenomenon for me, as it happened with Madame Web and, uh, Missing Link.

*Seriously though, am I the only one that sees her glasses as looking like Dana Carvey from Master of Disguise?

The Five Heartbeats.

Review #2514: The Five Heartbeats.

Cast: 

Robert Townsend (Donald "Duck" Matthews), Michael Wright (Eddie King, Jr), Leon (J.T. Matthews), Harry J. Lennix (Terrence "Dresser" Williams), Tico Wells (Anthony "Choirboy" Stone), Tressa Thomas (Clara), Diahann Carroll (Eleanor Potter), John Canada Terrell (Michael "Flash" Turner), Chuck Patterson (Jimmy Potter), Harold Nicholas (Ernest "Sarge" Johnson), Hawthorne James (Big Red Davis), Roy Fegan (Victor "Bird" Thomas), with John Witherspoon (Wild Rudy), and Troy Beyer (Baby Doll) Directed by Robert Townsend (#1315 - Eddie Murphy Raw, #2348 - Hollywood Shuffle)

Review: 

"The film has a big heart. It's about family; it's about faith. You follow these five men on their journey together, and when it's all said and done, it's fulfilling. I think at the core of it is faith. It has a healing message." - Robert Townsend.

You might be familiar with the soulful power of groups such as The Dells, The Temptations*, Four Tops or the singers in Wilson Pickett, James Brown, Frankie Lymon, and Sam Cooke. At any rate, the sound that came from them clearly had an effect on Robert Townsend and also Keenen Ivory Wayans, as the two wrote the film that was originally in development with the idea of having the Wayans family appear in the lead roles, but when Warner Bros. passed, the Wayans moved on to other ventures (In Living Color, namely). But Townsend persisted and found a deal with 20th Century Fox in 1990. Apparently, Townsend wanted David Ruffin and Eddie Kendrick of the Temptations to be technical advisors but 20th Century Fox vetoed it because they thought Motown founder Berry Gordy Jr could sue the studio. Instead, the Dells (as comprised of Marvin Junior, Verne Allison, Mickey McGill, Chuck Barksdale and Johnny Carter). were brought in. A variety of musicians were utilized for near dozen songs featured in the film, most notably with The Dells with songs such as "A Heart Is a House for Love" while Dee Harvey also provided a handful of songs for the actors to lip-synch to. Made on a budget of roughly $8 million, the film was not a big success with audiences (although it has a small cult following), while Townsend's next feature film came with The Meteor Man in 1993.

1965...at least when told in flashback, since it starts out with one of those "Where Are They Now?" type of magazines showing that, yes, everyone becomes a "whatever happened...?" type. Oh sure, The Five Heartbeats is a bit of a sentimental movie, and I doubt anyone is exactly going to be surprised by what goes on in a music biopic (real or imagined), but I do admire this stuff a bit in the general experience that comes with having some music just flow into you. It just so happens to be a movie that yearns to show the rise, fall, and redemption of people where flaws and mistakes can be one to survive with the right type of love and forgiveness behind it. Preachy or not, it also happens that some of the music is fairly entertaining to mostly smooth over a 122-minute runtime that would make a cynic blush. The music montages in particular make for a curious way to convey a film in some parts, but, hey, more for the rest of us. Strangely, it might be Lennix that steals the show best in the type of steely intensity that makes for a useful performer to see out there among the others, who are mostly fair in their characterizations (Townsend, suffice to say, is okay). Patterson and James make for a fascinating double-edge sword of figures to lurk behind the group in their own varying levels of motivation to be around music (the latter, spoiler alert, is basically a wolf in sheep's clothing, made clear with an excellent little scene of him threatening someone). It is the type of movie that unabashedly preaches to the choir of seeing the good and bad that arises in sudden rises (and falls) to fame that keeps a good beat and keeps a good level of intimacy around to make you believe in these folks without turning it into a riff of comedy beats or just straight drama. I enjoyed its little trek that shows a period piece for earnest enjoyment that searches for a common truth in what really matters besides the hunt for a good beat or material efforts: coming back together at the end and caring about one other. It's a nice little movie that might flow up your alley.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Once more, a song of the night

*Incidentally, when NBC did a miniseries about the Temptations in 1998, Leon was cast as David Ruffin, who by that point had passed away in 1991.

A Rage in Harlem.

Review #2513: A Rage in Harlem.

Cast: 

Forest Whitaker (Jackson), Gregory Hines (Goldy/Sherman), Robin Givens (Imabelle), Zakes Mokae (Big Kathy), Danny Glover (Easy Money), Badja Djola (Slim), John Toles-Bey (Jodie), Tyler Collins (Teena), Ron Taylor (Hank), Samm-Art Williams (Gus Parsons), Stack Pierce (Detective Ed "Coffin Ed" Johnson), Willard E. Pugh (Claude X), Helen Martin (Mrs. Canfield), Wendell Pierce (Louis), T. K. Carter (Smitty), Jalacy Hawkins (Jay "Screamin' Jay" Hawkins), Beatrice Winde (Clerk), and George Wallace (Detective "Gravedigger" Jones) Directed by Bill Duke.

Review: 

“I’m not interested in making ‘Black’ movies. I’m interested in making movies that reflect my reality as I perceive it.”

Honestly, this movie was lightly on my mind for a few years. You might remember that Cotton Comes to Harlem (1970) and Come Back, Charleston Blue (1972) were loosely based on the works of Chester Himes involving Harlem detectives that had Godfrey Cambridge and Raymond St. Jacques as the stars.  But first, let's talk a bit about this being the feature film debut of Bill Duke. Born in Poughkeepsie, New York, Duke was curious about writing from a young age, mainly because he wrote a journal from a young age because in his words, he wasn't a good verbal communicator but his poems were liked by a teacher of his. He attended Dutchess Community College and was encouraged to enroll in drama that saw him want to do acting. He studied at Boston University and subsequently New York University's Tisch School of the Arts before getting a role on Broadway in 1971 with "Ain't Supposed to Die a Natural Death.”  Duke broke into film with Car Wash (1976) before eventually coming onto the need to study film, which he did with the AFI Conservatory. Duke became a director for a variety of television shows in the 1980s that ranged from Falcon Crest to Knots Landing. Duke made his directorial debut with the made-for-PBS The Killing Floor (1984) before moving into film with this movie. William Horberg got the rights to the Himes novel and eventually got the efforts of Stephen Woolley to get the idea of doing a film sold to Miramax Films. John Toles-Bey and Bobby Crawford were credited as having written the film. Apparently, halfway through the production, Woolley claimed that the film was meant to be a comedy and that Duke disagreed with that sentiment. At any rate, the movie made roughly $10 million. Duke's next film was with Deep Cover (1992).

You've got a movie wrapped in the vibrant atmosphere of Harlem (okay it was filmed in Cincinnati but still) that has a carefully wound-up game of wits and oddball characters for a few interesting moments (and, arguably, a few chuckles, so maybe Woolley wasn't too far off). Its tale of lust and larceny isn't too far off from a B-movie or, say, those 70s movies I had mentioned earlier that makes for a decent first effort. It doesn't exactly have every plot beat down to a T, mainly because the chemistry between the characters work far better than any motivations involving gold and sheer hokum. Of course, it also is an off-kilter romance (when not dealing in clash of street/book smart) that basically lends itself to a handful of curious moments of who really is in control of their own desires and sense of self. In that sense, Whitaker and Hines make for a couple of entertaining leads to counteract each other as if one was in a hardboiled buddy film (with perhaps a bit of a coming-of-age sprinkled in, neo-noir style). This was the first prominent film role for Givens, who previously had been featured in Head of the Class for television. She makes for a quality femme fatale, one with sultry grace that manages to have the right time of timing to make the tenuous dynamic between her and Whitaker a compelling one. There are a wide variety of characters to come and go with charm to spare, whether that involves a cross-dresser played by Mokae or with heavies in Glover and Djola (or Williams, but he is only in it for a while). In general, the film is quick on its feet to make its 115-minute runtime feel like a breeze worth passing through to see it play all the way to the finish that manages to hit most of the right notes for a fairly satisfying first effort.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars. 

Another Movie Night Song of the day

Why Did I Get Married Too?

Review #2512: Why Did I Get Married Too?

Cast: 

Tyler Perry (Terry Brock), Janet Jackson (Patricia Agnew), Jill Scott (Sheila Jackson), Sharon Leal (Dianne Brock), Tasha Smith (Angela Williams), Richard T. Jones (Mike), Malik Yoba (Gavin Agnew), Lamman Rucker (Troy Jackson), Michael Jai White (Marcus Williams), with Louis Gossett Jr (Porter Jones), and Cicely Tyson (Ola Jones) Directed by Tyler Perry (#872 - A Madea Christmas, #1979 - Why Did I Get Married?)

Review: 

Admittedly, Why Did I Get Married? (2007) was perhaps destined to make money. I called it a movie that "attempts at doing pop psychology with melodrama on the level of a soap opera or an off-kilter religious movie" (ironically, Perry took out a chunk of the church scenes from adapting his play into a film). You may or may not remember how the last film: four couples went on a week-long retreat in the mountains that saw the inevitable reveal of secrets that come with, well, people, I guess. It was chock full of surprises that came as such: secret VD, blame games over who couldn't protect their son from dying, bank account draining, would-be choking out moments and believe it or not, a divorce. Now the difference is they go on a week-long trip to the Bahamas for another retreat that reunites all the folks you saw the first time around. As is usually the case, Perry wrote and produced the film, which was basically as big a hit as the original movie was with audiences. Apparently, there are rumblings of a third of these movies (Why Did I Get Married Again, but, lol, Netflix) possibly coming in the near future. 

Technically, this is a worthwhile movie, if you like stuff that really is a bunch of hokum. It retains that strange achievement of being overblown in its melodrama for 121 minutes that manages to be ridiculous and yet too hollow to actually say anything about marriage that couldn't be boiled down to a Hallmark card. It strains to be funny when its melodrama is already ridiculous enough and it never really achieves any sort of meaningful drama, particularly since it is once again a movie where Perry and Jackson are basically overshadowed by White and Smith again. Consider this for a moment - what sounds more interesting: a couple that finds about "emotional cheating" (next you'll be telling me they were...writing messages in a bottle!), a messy divorce where a psychologist isn't so perfect, seething jealousy from the new guy in the married group, or the crazed paranoia of someone who believe their husband is cheating to where they track their resting heart rate. There is just something so insane about Smith and White interact with each other that could be thought of as irresistible in a way that seems far more in sync with what audiences think about marriages than whatever twaddle Perry & Leal are trying to pull. Some might say that Jackson pulls in the most interesting performance, but the bar is, what, still Poetic Justice (1993)? The only character that maybe goes through the idea of what might be an interesting story is with Jones in the realm of understanding what it means to be divorced...of course the actual story with his character is, no I'm not joking, his sudden diagnosis of cancer (yea, the character in the middle of the film is just...going to chemotherapy). Scott and Rucker just seem lost in the shuffle and in general the movie doesn't seem to know what to do with itself.  You might remember that there was progress to all of these characters in the first film, but it basically seems like we are watching caricatures (or perhaps a template for the subsequent TV spinoff) that do not have much to say this time around. As a whole, it may be more absurd in its melodrama, but it feels less accomplished than the previous film.* In general, it just seems like a wasted venture unless one is into the Perry pulpit, which I suppose isn't up my alley this time around. But so it goes.

Overall, I give it 5 out of 10 stars.

Movie Night - Song of the day

*Nobody can go 0-for-4 in "good" movies, right? The Married films were on a DVD four-pack with I Can Do Bad All by Myself and Madea's Witness Protection, so we will see how that goes someday.

Cleopatra Jones.

Review #2511: Cleopatra Jones.

Cast: 

Tamara Dobson (Cleopatra Jones), Bernie Casey (Reuben Masters), Shelley Winters (Mommy), Brenda Sykes (Tiffany), Antonio Fargas ("Doodlebug" Simpkins), Bill McKinney (Officer Purdy), Dan Frazer (Captain Crawford), Stafford Morgan (Sergeant Kert), Mike Warren (Miller Anderson), Albert Popwell (Matthew Johnson), Caro Kenyatta (Melvin Johnson), and Esther Rolle (Mrs. Johnson) Directed by Jack Starrett.

Review: 

Okay, I guess I should have heard of this movie earlier with a title like that. But maybe it is apt to get around to a movie made for Warner Bros. that wanted to cash in on the blaxploitation craze that came around with movies such as Shaft (or, if one wants to go with the one that came out a bit earlier, Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song [1971]....or earlier with Cotton Comes to Harlem [1970]). Max Julien wrote the story (he originally wanted to a spy movie for Columbia Pictures) and co-wrote the screenplay with Sheldon Keller while also producing the film with William Tennent. At the helm as director was Jack Starrett, the sometimes actor/sometimes director behind such movies as Run, Angel, Run! (1969) and Slaughter (1972). Apparently, Julien envisioned his long-term girlfriend Vonetta McGee for the role, but the considerable casting call from Warner Bros. led to the eventual pick of former 6'2 model Tamara Dobson. The Baltimore native actually started out as a beautician in her studying at the Maryland Institute College of Art prior to being discovered, as, well, a 6'2 person who could model that later saw her involved in commercials. Rated PG, Cleopatra Jones was a decent hit with audiences and inspired a sequel with Cleopatra Jones and the Casino of Gold in 1975. Sadly, those were Dobson's only starring roles, with her other film appearances (Norman... Is That You? [1976], Chained Heat [1983]) being supporting roles before she eventually became a commercial property owner; she died in 2006 at the age of 59.*

With big hat brims and big fur robes (apparently, the fashion was done by Giorgio di Sant' Angelo) and choices that might as well have come from someone wanting to do a James Bond movie (right down to having a climax in a junkyard), how could you not like this movie? Hell, the Corvette Stingray is modified so our leading lady's hair is not impeded to go along with a "CLEO" license plate and karate chopping people. Not bad for a "Special Agent to the President" that had to deal with all of this mainly because she got a poppy field to be destroyed via airstrike (in the intro to the film), I suppose. You know, it may not be a great movie, but I love stuff like this every now and then: a movie that just cuts loose and throws any damn thing to the screen with commitment of entertainment that shows the best of both worlds in terms of "the times" (namely in ass-kicking in the name of community). Admittedly, Dobson is more interesting for the stuff around her/action set pieces than her acting, which is pretty green. The community part is more important anyway when you've got some charm displayed by the support around her, mostly in the sheer ridiculous nature that comes with Winters, who not only has big hair (hey, wigs were cool) but also has an interesting gender balance of male henchmen and, uh, female servants. At least when one goes for hammy (hey, Winters had two Academy Awards already, you can do anything), you get some entertainment value (PG rating or not, you still get scenes featuring people being shot or thrown to their deaths). Casey makes a solidly sensible pairing for the small time you get to see him with Dobson. You get some adequate slice of life from folks such as Fargas or the Popwell/Kenyatta connection or the varying levels of "how funky is this white cop?*" from others for a movie that doesn't strain in hokum for its 89-minute runtime, which is more than can be said for lesser action films. It might not hit all of its marks, but it will do just fine winning converts on a late-night watch around the bend.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Song of the day

*Interestingly, Dobson believed that the character of Jones was not so much a "women's libber" but instead saw her as a "very positive, strong lady who knows what she has to do" (in this case defending the neighborhood from drug pushers)

*No joke, the movie ends right as the police captain mildly raises his fist to say "right on!" 

Sudden Death.

Review #2510: Sudden Death.

Cast:

Jean-Claude Van Damme (Darren McCord), Powers Boothe (Joshua Foss), Raymond J. Barry (U.S. Vice President Daniel Bender), Dorian Harewood (Matthew Hallmark), Whittni Wright (Emily McCord), Ross Malinger (Tyler McCord), Michael Gaston (Hickey), Faith Minton (Carla), Paul Mochnick (Andrew Ferrara), Audra Lindley (Angeline Ferrara), and Jack Erdie (Scratch) Directed by Peter Hyams (#233 - 2010: The Year We Make Contact, #326 - Timecop, #2477 - A Sound of Thunder)

Review: 

"I was not a hockey fan. I had not been to a hockey game before. I started to do research, and then I started to watch the Penguins play. I began to realize the unbelievable athleticism involved, and the violence involved and the speed of that puck. Hockey is better in the arena than it is on television. It’s a phenomenal sport."

What better day to do a movie about hockey than a few days after the United States of America managed to beat the odds and win the gold medal in hockey (and in true gender equality: the men and women each won*)? What better time to see a movie that could basically be thought of as an ad for a hockey team? The original story came from Karen Baldwin, an aspiring actress who became part of a producing firm with her husband Howard, which basically came on the side of sports ownership, as the Baldwins were among the owners of the Pittsburgh Penguins (as was the case from 1992-1998*). At the time, the team played in the Civic Arena, and the unique roof of the venue that could open up apparently led to Karen thinking about the possibility of doing "something like Die Hard in a hockey arena", which also matched with a story the Baldwins had tried to do about a Soviet goaltender trying to defect because they were wearing a mask; Gene Quintano then wrote the screenplay. When Peter Hyams (not exactly a hockey fan at the time) was approached, he was astounded to see the Baldwins willing to do a movie with so much action in their own venue (he proceeded to suggest a fight scene with a killer dressed up as the team mascot). Of course, the 1994-95 league lockout hindered them in getting the proper filming for crowds, and a good variety of the hockey action ended up being the work of local hockey players (while Mike Lange and Paul Steigerwald provided commentary). As the second collaboration between Hyams and Jean-Claude Van Damme (after Timecop), the movie was a mild success at the time while becoming a rental favorite. 

It does kind of boggle the mind to have your hockey team be part of a movie that has the following: the team mascot getting into a fight with the lead hero (before getting brutally killed), team security basically being humiliated at all costs (mayhem after every period ends no less), and, to top it all, the lead villain wearing Penguins gear right before he dies in "death by helicopter stalling". Of course, the funniest thing is the movie just...ends, because I could only wonder how a hockey game continues after all that. For a movie that freely cribs from Die Hard, except with trying to disarm bombs, it is quite fascinating to see it all play out (right down to a henchman playing Doom), unless one doesn't like violence in their action movie - the body count on this film of people who die is actually considerable, jeez.. This was a movie that had both of its hero and villain cast because other people rejected it (Sylvester Stallone and James Woods, for example) and yet each manage to have a ball with the roles presented here, mostly in the case of Boothe, who has tremendous alacrity to engage with the mayhem without just having it mosey on by. Van Damme may never have really been a great action star in terms of variety, but he at least was still committed enough in physicality to at least make it worthwhile to see him kick the hell out of someone dressed up as a mascot. As much as it would be nice to have some presence from the hostages besides cursory interest from Barry, the movie doesn't hesitate in just going with the mayhem. The maneuvering of the plot does not exactly gel completely with reality (bomb detonations are to be delayed by the onset of overtime because, well, I guess even terrorists wanted to make sure they didn't miss the finale before blowing it up?), but the movie manages to move its machinery for 110 minutes without treating the audience as if they were entitled to be liked for the sake of being liked. You either buy what it is selling (complete with rooftop action for the climax) or you just wash it away quickly. As a whole, Hyams shot and directed a decent little film that basically maneuvers itself the way you would hope for a wind-up action movie in an era where cribbing from others was fine as long as you had some craftsmanship behind it. It's not a great movie, but being good enough is fine anyway.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Movie Night presents: Song of the day

*It should be noted that Howard Baldwin was behind the change of the iconic Penguins logo for, well, a loser logo that never won anything when it was around because...merchandising. Also he called the old logo a "pigeon". Just goes to show that rich people really do sometimes have no taste at all.

*I mean this with only a lit bit of venom towards the sore losers towards how the men's/women's hockey games went: Suck it Canada! 

The Trouble with Harry.

Review #2509: The Trouble with Harry.

Cast: 

Edmund Gwenn (Capt. Albert Wiles), John Forsythe (Sam Marlowe), Shirley MacLaine (Jennifer Rogers), Mildred Natwick (Miss Ivy Gravely), Mildred Dunnock (Mrs. Wiggs), Jerry Mathers (Arnie Rogers), Royal Dano (Deputy Sheriff Calvin Wiggs), and Parker Fennelly (Millionaire)

Produced and Directed by Alfred Hitchcock (#219 - Rope, #223 - North by Northwest, #446 - Spellbound, #447 - Psycho, #450 - Vertigo, #455 - Rear Window, #553 - Strangers on a Train, #800 - Shadow of a Doubt, #910 - Notorious, #963 - The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog, #964 - The Ring (1927), #965 - Downhill, #970 - Mr. and Mrs. Smith, #977 - Frenzy, #1343 - The 39 Steps, #1739 - The Birds, #1828 - Rebecca, #2014 - The Lady Vanishes, #2032 - The Man Who Knew Too Much, #2374 - Blackmail [1929])

Review: 

"With Harry, I took melodrama out of the pitch-black night and brought it out into the sunshine. It's as if I had set up a murder alongside a rustling brook and spilled a drop of blood into the clear water. These contrasts establish a counterpart; they elevate the commonplace in life to a higher level."

I suppose it is hard to be the ugly duckling of a string of movies, but The Trouble with Harry is certainly a curious film in the work of Alfred Hitchcock. Of the eleven movies Hitchcock directed in the 1950s, it served as his only comedy (and one of just two that weren't thrillers, and the other was the based-on-a-true-story The Wrong Man [1956]). Of course, it wasn't his first comedy, as evidenced by Mr. & Mrs. Smith (1941), but Hitchcock apparently was quite keen on doing this film the way he wanted, complete with doing it in VistaVision with primary filming in Vermont (well, at least until they needed leaves on the trees or scenes in a certain gym). There were a few firsts here too. This was the first Hitchcock movie with music by Bernard Herrmann, who he would work with all the way to Marnie (1964). It was also the feature film debut of Shirley MacLaine*. She was not even in her twenties when she moved to New York to try out acting, which had her go from a bit role in Me and Juliet on Broadway to being the understudy-turned-star of The Pajama Game (due to an ankle injury of the star). The result of stepping into the role on Broadway attracted attention by Hal Wallis that eventually saw her signed to a contract with Paramount Pictures (and, well, Hitchcock apparently was interested to do a film with a charming unknown). Based on the 1949 novel of the same name by Jack Trevor Story, John Michael Hayes wrote the screenplay in his third collaboration with Hitchcock (having previously done the screenplay for Rear Window [1954], To Catch a Thief [1955] before doing The Man Who Knew Too Much [1956). While the movie was not a big hit in the States, it did play fine in Europe for years and apparently the film was one of Hitchcock's personal favorites. Hitchcock had the film rights until his death, whereupon it made the rounds in reissuing in the 1980s. 

You might call it a morbid little movie or one of Hitchcock's more mellow efforts, one that might actually be thought of as filled with whimsical nature. So yes, it is a pretty warm and fairly enjoyable affair (one that even can thread the needle of suggestion when one character asks if they can sketch them in the nude). The body is there just to be there, because the mystery is peeling the layers of these peculiar people in this landscape (yes, even with some studio shots, you get some neat views of the autumn season) for 99 minutes. You either are with the film in its casual sly nature for all the things that come with a ride that basically handles death as if it really was just a case of "so it goes" (yes I am cribbing from Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse-Five that had its own views about death, but, well, I actually did read that in college). Leading the way is Gwenn in one of his swansongs. This was among the last of Gwenn's films as an actor, as he appeared in two more movies (and one episode of Hitchcock's Alfred Hitchcock Presents) prior to his death in 1959 at the age of 81. He deftly handles it with the solid professionalism that comes with selling someone who really can just coast with some of the offbeat lines that come in observation and newfound zest, which probably overshadows Forsythe and his offbeat non-conformism (at least he wasn't going for "beatnik") a bit by comparison. Even as the youngest of the ensemble, MacLaine holds her own with a sense of odd grace and the type of confidence that leaves one invested in their lives and the wayward path that might come with being paired with Forsythe. Natwick rounds it out with solid dignity and understated charm, at least when one doesn't see the considerable age difference [28 years] between her and Gwenn. Rounding it out is Dano pulling out the humorless dry authority figure that mostly balances out the whims had by the main quartet, which I guess works out to how it goes in our everyday lives in sobering qualities. In general, it might not be among Hitchcock's best of the best, but it is a curious film you should seek out, one that has some amusing moments within a film full of peculiar characters brought to life with useful energy and a leisurely pace to make it all matter at the end.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Starting now, we're doing a song of the day. Enjoy at your own risk.

*Yes, that would be the younger sister of Warren Beatty. Go figure each actor would use modifications of their names for films, as she would use a modification of her middle name (MacLean) while, well, someone took off a "t" from their last name of Beaty

Sheba, Baby.

Review #2508: Sheba, Baby.

Cast: 

Pam Grier (Sheba Shayne), Austin Stoker ("Brick" Williams), D'Urville Martin (Pilot), Rudy Challenger (Andy Shayne), Dick Merrifield ("Shark" Merrill), Charles Kissinger (Phil), Charles Broaddus (Hammerhead), Maurice Downs (Killer), and Ernest Cooley (Whale) Directed by William Girdler (#1636 - Abby)

Review: 

Admittedly, the 1970s had some odd (and possibly fun) titles for select exploitation movies. This was the third action movie with Pam Grier in a starring role after Coffy (1973) and Foxy Brown (1974), which were all American International Pictures productions. It was the first of three movies with Grier for AIP that year: the crime action film Bucktown (where she co-starred with Fred Williamson) and Friday Foster (in the title role with Yaphet Kotto as co-star). And then there's William Girdler. You might remember the Louisville native from the movie he made before Sheba with Abby (1974), that movie where they rode the shirttail of The Exorcist. Girdler's next movie was Project: Kill (1976) with Leslie Nielsen as star. The movie was written by Girdler and David Sheldon (who produced the movie) and was filmed primarily in, well, Louisville, Kentucky (not to go on a tangent, since I know it makes some sense to be in Kentucky, but now I expect a movie about boats set in New Mexico) that involves some nefarious people in, wait for it, loan companies. The promotional material for the movie actually called itself "Hotter'n Coffy, Meaner'n Foxy Brown", which is highly ridiculous when you consider those two movies were rated R while this is rated...PG (in fairness, you either got G, PG, R, or X in those days). At least the movie isn't lying in wait for a high quality home media release.

Look, it just isn't a good enough movie to try and get away with being on autopilot for most of its bare 90-minute runtime. Sure, Grier continues to have the charm and stamina to make one believe so much in her as an action star*, but there is basically nothing for her to latch on to in terms of general tension or variety. As ridiculously violent as Coffy or Foxy Brown could seem in their execution, at least those movies actually sounded like they had some energy to them in their craftsmanship. Here, it just seems that Girdler settled for just getting it done in the most basic of ways. It basically is a movie to all hucksters: it wants to coast on doing the most basic of tasks with as little engagement as one can possibly do, where seeing someone on a jet ski is more an "eh" moment rather than seeming like the start of a real fun climax. Another movie where our hero is motivated by the death of a loved one does seem a bit tired when you consider the energy given out by the two prior Jack Hill productions with Grier (okay Grier was in a few other Hill movies, but do you really care about prison movies such as The Big Bird Cage [1972]?). Comparing it to Abby might seem a bit unfair to this movie, but they both still belong to the "dumbass movies you might see on a Saturday night*" classification, so I guess that is a bright side. Stoker flickers with the slightest bit of interest, but he basically is being carried by Grier's energy, and the villains (as headed by Merrifield and a far more interesting Martin) don't exactly thread the needle in why the movie moves the way it does in menace (companies must be acquired because...because!). The best way to talk about the movie is thus: Grier looks cool, things happen, the movie ends and you forget most of it happened right then and there. It is the blaxploitation movie near (or maybe at the end) the back of the line to check out, but there are a few little moments of sunshine through the efforts of Grier and the occasional amusement at the situation presented that may make you not regret it all the way.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

*And also pretty attractive, but again, just the facts.

*This of course assumes that, you, the reader, who I appreciate in getting to the note section, has a nice sleep on the weekend rather than, say, working really late. Hell, some of you may even have friends.

Disco Godfather.

Review #2507: Disco Godfather.

Cast: 

Rudy Ray Moore (Tucker Williams), Carol Speed (Noel), Jimmy Lynch ("Sweetmeat"), Jerry Jones (Dr. Fred Mathis), Lady Reed (Mrs. Edwards), Hawthorne James (Ray "Stinger Ray"), Julius Carry ("Bucky")", Hazel Spears (Ellen Davis), Frank Finn (Lieutenant Frank Hayes), Fitz Houston (Kilroy), and Pucci Jhones ("The Angel of Death") Directed by J. Robert Wagoner.

Review: 

This was the fifth and final movie where you could reasonably see Rudy Ray Moore on the big screen in a substantial role (okay so he wasn't in The Monkey Hustle [1976] that much, but he was on the poster, so...). Honestly, he pretty much peaked with his first one with Dolemite (1975), which somehow soared in its amusement and entertainment value despite clear and obvious flaws (the filmmaking, for one). The Human Tornado (1976) could've gone better. Petey Wheatstraw (1977) was flat out weird. By this point, Moore was actually in his fifties. Okay, so here is a movie written by two people: Cliff Roquemore (who directed Moore in The Human Tornado and Petey Wheatstraw and did a performance film of Moore's act in 1982) and J. Robert Wagoner. For the rest of his life, Moore would make bit appearances in a variety of programs of television and direct-to-video and theatrical works while doing his comedy albums and even being invited to appear in songs. Needless to say, he lived a colorful life that very well could be a hero of what he called "ghetto expression"*.

Well, there were a few disco-related movies at the time too, so why not cross that with a message about angel dust? Sure won't see that in Roller Boogie (1979), I imagine. I'm not exactly sure why the movie is called "Disco Godfather", because the lead character is an ex-cop that goes on a double-sided crusade: cracking down on where the drug structure is coming from and pushing along with a community alliance of activists to (no I'm not joking) "Attack the Wack". What I wish I could know about the movie is what type of atmosphere this film was made under: sure, it was probably a B-movie made fast and cheap (Moore was also co-producer) but was there any sort of substances involved to come up with such an incoherent movie? You get plenty of hallucinations (get it, because PCP is like being in hell) for a movie that actually does feature plenty of blood from its array of goofy fights (and one suicide because, yes, a guy gets busted for being an informant) and even goofier stakes, at least when not detailing PCP-affected people that may or may not recover from their addiction while others apparently deal with the ramification of roasting babies when high. Consider one scene where our hero has a hit put on him where the hitmen are right at the disco ready to shoot him...only for the bad guy to put a hit on the hitmen! Because he wants the hero to be alive to deal with. You might wonder how the movie lasts 97 minutes. Well, between all of the goofy sequences involving disco (don't take a shot every time someone says "weight"), I think you can understand. There is a sense of tiredness that becomes apparent in the imagination of all involved with Moore (suffice to say, one does miss the kung-fu trained prostitutes of Dolemite). Here you just get a movie that would probably make a goofy doubleheader with Reefer Madness (1936). As a whole, the film is a goofy hit-or-miss experience that never really clicks into serious gear for any of its interests but is at least committed enough in its vision to provide curiosity that may be up your alley if you like old-time oddball movies.

 

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

*I'm not sure if I ever linked to this article, but it is interesting to note that Moore apparently was in the closet: My Coke-Fueled Nights With Dolemite - OZY | A Modern Media Company + New Doc Reveals Details Of ‘Dolemite’ Actor Rudy Ray Moore’s Sexuality