Drunken Angel.

Review #2004: Drunken Angel.

Cast: 

Takashi Shimura (Doctor Sanada), Toshiro Mifune (Matsunaga), Reisaburo Yamamoto (Okada), Michiyo Kogure (Nanae), Chieko Nakakita (Nurse Miyo), Eitarō Shindō (Takahama), Noriko Sengoku (Gin), Shizuko Kasagi (Singer), Masao Shimizu (Oyabun), and Yoshiko Kuga (Schoolgirl) Directed by Akira Kurosawa (#968 - Throne of Blood, #1385 - Seven Samurai, and #1870 - Sanshiro Sugata)

Review: 

Well, it was time to do another Kurosawa film, this time with dueling interests. In addition to it belonging as a yazuka film, it is the first film with Kurosawa did with Toshiro Mifune. They would do sixteen films together over the course of nearly two decades. Mifune actually hoped to transfer to the photography department at Toho Productions (requiring new actors due to a strike) rather than be an actor (he was the son of a photographer, after all), having served in the Imperial Japanese Army in its aviation division for photography. He made his audition and happened to have it happen in the presence of Kurosawa, who saw it as "frightening as watching a wounded beast trying to break loose. I was transfixed." As for Kurosawa, he had made fair progress as a director ever since he had made his debut with Sanshiro Sugata (1943). Some of the films since that film fell under the spell of the wartime pushes (such as the two films that followed Sugata), with The Men Who Tread on the Tiger's Tail not being allowed for release in 1945 due to scrutiny from sensors until seven years later; No Regrets for Our Youth (1946) and One Wonderful Sunday (1947) were distinct melodramas. Cutting the two together, Mifune made the cut among the roster and proceeded to make his debut with Snow Trail (1947), which had Kurosawa as a co-writer on the script. The label of "yakuza film" is perhaps a bit debatable, considering that films taking a look at the Japanese organized crime syndicate would be firmly more apparent by the 1950s and 1960s (with studios such as Nikkatsu and Toei), but there were various films before this one that dealt with outlaws such as A Diary of Chuji's Travels (1927), and there are various distinct angles to yakuza films, as represented by Branded to Kill (1967) or most notably with Battles Without Honor and Humanity (1973). Point is, there are many roads yet to take within films that could be quite fascinating in future dealings.

Kurosawa wrote the film with Keinosuke Uekusa, with the script finding modification upon the realization of just how good Mifune was in a role that was not as large as originally planned. Of course, nothing is ever planned to go the way they are meant to go, whether it be film or with life. For those familiar with world cinema, or actors with plenty of familiar work, Shimura was actually the most prolific actor in a Kurosawa film, for which he appeared in 21 of them in four different decades (which includes such films as the aforementioned Sugata alongside others such as the lead role in Ikaru). He provides a worthy performance that is not upstaged in any way when it comes to acting against Mifune, one with the nerve to stand against the eyes of absurd feudalistic loyalty when it comes to gangsters. Handling the sick and depraved while trying to cope with alcohol is all that matters when it comes to life in a post-war time. He is the title character after all, one with an impulse to do what he must for his patient (black market or not) without thinking of the sense of danger if it comes to falling on the negative side of a yakuza (or worse yet, too much alcohol). The decay is visible on the places that fall prey to yakuza, whether that involves poisonous bog or little inflections of occupied fashions mimicking the West or jazz performed by Shuzuko Kasagi (note: Kurosawa had to be subtle, since the American occupation of 1945-1952 meant having to deal with an American censor board, while Kasagi happened to find popularity as someone who could sing jazz or the boogie-woogie). Mifune is exquisite in raw energy, one that seemed like a name to watch out for even back then. There would be far more opportunities for him to show his prowess and for good reason, because he has the cadence and timing required to make this burrowing man of intensity one to watch with curiosity as a beast that could only change what they want to change, which makes the shaky friendship between him and Shimura all the more involving. Each tower over the other actors, even with Yamamoto and his adversarial presence that outranks the pawns that make up the chess game of gangsters. Of course, since the film moves along with worthy patience for 98 minutes, this doesn't prove a meaningful problem when faced with such a compelling duet of people. The fight at the end is quite exquisite, tragic in its timing that sees a tired man make his final act for a duel that could only end one way. As a whole, the movie finds a quiet message of hope amongst the decay, where the only way to approach the ever-growing sense of life going on regardless of who is there is to just go rationally. It works as a film of urgency, one that forges its own tradition for an audience that surely wanted to see what Kurosawa could provide next.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Suzume.

Review #2003: Suzume.

Cast: 

Nanoka Hara (Suzume Iwato), Hokuto Matsumura (Souta Munakata), Eri Fukatsu (Tamaki Iwato), Shôta Sometani (Minoru Okabe), Sairi Itô (Rumi Ninomiya), Kotone Hanase (Chika Amabe), Kana Hanazawa (Tsubame Iwato), Matsumoto Hakuō II (Hitsujirō Munakata), Ryunosuke Kamiki (Tomoya Serizawa), Ann Yamane (Daijin), and Aimi (Miki) Written and Directed by Makoto Shinkai.

Review: 

"There are a lot of these issues that I think we need to come face to face with that demand our attention. But it’s hard to face them in a way or put them into a context where younger audiences will be open to discussing it. So in some ways, I think Suzume is connecting the older and younger generations through this sort of communal or unified experience. "

Admittedly, I haven't had too much to spend on anime films as I would like to cover, probably because one can only cover so much ground (Japan, perhaps not surprisingly, is the most prolific non-American topic on Movie Night, taking up nearly 30% of the films listed as world cinema, which has only taken up around six percent of these 2,003 reviews). But one thing that definitely matters most is finding a new director to introduce to the lexicon (of course, this particular director has been dubbed by some as "Miyazaki's heir", so me using "new" is a bit ironic). Born in Koumi, Japan, Makoto Shinkai found influence for his passion as a youth to manga and anime when he was a teenager; he graduated from study of Japanese literature at Chuo University to work at Falcolm, a video game company where he made video clips and graphic design. In 1999, he made his debut into animation with "She and Her Cat", which was done with hand-drawn illustrations and 3D done in Adobe After Effects, for which he had the help of three others in creating a five-minute short done in monochrome. He quit Falcom in order to work on a new original animation, which became Voices of a Distant Star (2002). He made his debut as a feature director with The Place Promised in Our Early Days (2004). Since then, he has directed six further films (one being an anthology), with Your Name (2016) probably being the one that sticks out amongst people more familiar with Shinkai. That film, along with this one, were inspired by the 2011 Tohoku earthquake and tsunami (which led to the death of thousands of people); as such, the movie is both a road movie along a fantasy adventure. As is the case with his other films, it was produced by CoMix Wave Films with him as director and writer.

It is probably not a coincidence that the film, released in late 2022, managed to find a release into theaters here because of its widespread success in its native Japan, as it soon ranked up there as one of the highest-attended films in Japan...ever. You know, the thing about watching a movie with subtitles in a theater is that it is undoubtedly better to enjoy it with a complete sense of calm. Well, that, or with no one else around so you can enjoy your own mood without problem, which goes double for a movie that features someone turned into a chair early on. But it is an interesting movie because of what ends up happening beyond first appearances, which mainly involves the trouble of trying to deal with opening doors without first looking at what we have behind us. In other words, it is tying up losing ends that matter most rather than leaving things to spiral out of control, whether that involves bubbling tension or, well, mythical worms. It grows on you as a coming-of-age film that soothes the soul in wondering what matters most when it comes to memory that its moments of crisp visuals (for the most part, as the CG animation is iffy) to go along with a generally interesting adventure that checks the marks for interest without turning into the complete paint-by-number venture. This was the first anime role for Hara, and she does pretty well in exhibiting the vulnerability required in a role that adjusts on the fly to the events happening around them, which is key in a road movie that sees plenty of presences around her, which works probably a bit better than the lingering romance. Matsumura proves fine, representing the struggle of trying to maintain one's sense of self while keeping a bond with Hara that makes for a useful bond. The rest of the passersby folks (whether it involves relatives or a magic cat) prove involving enough to make this an interesting atmosphere to remind one that being wrapped up in fantasy doesn't necessarily one has to leave people behind on the way there, as signified by the dynamic between Fukatsu and Hara. As a whole, it makes for a play at learning to closing one's emotional doors while also having a worthy adventure for 122 minutes that will prove most of your time well. Being a pretty good anime film will probably be more than enough for those curious enough to do this sort of film, so take that for what it's worth.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

The Haunted Castle (1921).

Review #2002: The Haunted Castle.

Cast: 

Arnold Korff (Schlossherr von Vogelschrey), Lulu Korff-Kyser (Centa von Vogelschrey), Lothar Mehnert (Graf Johann Oetsch), Paul Hartmann (Graf Peter Paul Oetsch), Paul Bildt (Baron Safferstätt), Olga Tschechowa (Baronin Safferstätt), Hermann Vallentin (Landgerichtsrat a. D.), Julius Falkenstein (Ängstlicher Herr), Georg Zawatzky (Küchenjunge), Robert Leffler (Majordomus), Victor Blütner (Pater Faramund), Walter Kurt Kühle (Diener), and Loni Nest (Kleines Mädchen) Directed by F. W. Murnau (#256 - Nosferatu, #499 - Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans, #1335 - Tabu: A Story of the South Seas and #1885 - City Girl)

Review: 

Admittedly, it is tough to assess a director from the silent era when a lack of preservation hinders someone like F. W. Murnau. Of his first nine films, only two survive: Journey into the Night (1921) and this film (known in its native Germany as Schloß Vogelöd). Thankfully, one can see the film in restored condition as well, complete with multi-colored title cards. Contrary to the title (the English title anyway, since the German one just refers to a man's castle), it isn't a haunted house movie, since it really is a potboiler mystery film that was based on a story by Rudolf Stratz (as originally written in the Berliner Illustrirte Zeitung), with the script adaptation being done by Carl Mayer, who had worked with Murnau on his previous efforts in The Hunchback and the Dancer (1920) and Journey into the Night (1921) and would work with him again on such films as The Last Laugh (1924) and Sunrise (1927).

Honestly, I find it just as interesting to cover some random title from a century ago that I never heard of until the day of watching it than just going with an obvious pick from a few years ago. It is important to keep the past alive in some small way, regardless of the varying quality that comes with extant silent films. The one defining aspect of the film, aside from being decent, is the vast space one sees throughout the movie as staged by Murnau. Space seems to mean the most when it comes to always feeling apart from the characters portrayed in the film, who despite their evident rich qualities seem to be just as powerless to react to the situation around them as someone without as much time to spend around other people in "power". It sure is a shame the film isn't particularly well known, and it may possible that the lack of cast recognition or a definitive lead may be a key reason: Korff (an Austrian-born American actor) is in theory the lead, because he plays the host, but it really could be thought of as the film for Mehnert (he apparently played in three films while being more of a stage guy before his death in 1926 at 51), playing a guy accused of getting away with murder while having a face that might as well scream "suspicion". But it sort of is a movie between Tschechowa (a Russian-German known as Olga Chekhova in everywhere but Germany, making her first appearance in a German film with this) as a Baroness talking to someone named Father Faramund about what may have led to murder. I would say Tschechowa probably does the best among the actors who are haunted among the space by the things they wish to say but can't because of their supposed adherence to the rules; she is the one with the most to say among her facial expressions when it comes to guilt, although Mehnert comes close with his sneer of defiance. So yes, the movie flakes a bit, particularly when it features two surreal sequences that don't exactly have much to do with the plot, but it is fairly effective within its runtime that runs under 90 minutes when it comes to drawn out cleverness within spooky space. As long as you watch the film with patience and don't think about it as a non-horror prototype for Nosferatu (released a year later), you might find something to look into, particularly with its climax that delivers a useful payoff that proves you can't get too ridiculous no matter how rich one might be when it comes to long-winded schemes. Do I like the movie? It is probably a bit winded in title cards to really be anything special, but it passes by with useful motion and doesn't insult my time, so I would say it might make your while as a decent little yarn of mystery that is best gone into without any warning.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

The Blue Angel.

Review #2001: The Blue Angel.

Cast: 

Emil Jannings (Professor Immanuel Rath), Marlene Dietrich (Lola Lola), Kurt Gerron (Kiepert, the magician), Rosa Valetti (Guste, the magician's wife), Hans Albers (Mazeppa, the strongman), Reinhold Bernt (The clown), Eduard von Winterstein (The director of school), Hans Roth (The caretaker of the secondary school), Rolf Müller (Pupil Angst), Roland Varno (Pupil Lohmann), and Carl Balhaus (Pupil Ertzum) Directed by Josef von Sternberg (#1325 - Underworld, #1337 - Shanghai Express, #1837 - Thunderbolt)

Review: 

So, how does one follow up their first sound film with a further quality one? Josef von Sternberg, fresh from the success of Thunderbolt (1929), was summoned by Universum Film A.G (usually referred to as UFA) for a project that would see Emil Jannings in his first sound production. He had been born in Switzerland to American and German parents, but he was raised in Germany. He eventually gained success in both Germany and America, and he was the first actor to win the Academy Award for Best Actor. Jannings collaborated with Sternberg previously with The Last Command (1928). However, it would be more of a boon for the little-known actress cast against Jannings that proved more important. Berlin native Marlene Dietrich had made her first appearance on film in 1923 to go alongside stage work in musicals and revues. She auditioned for the role along with several others (such as Lucie Mannheim) and proceeded to win the audition and then basically steal the show from Jannings with this film, the first of seven she would do with Sternberg, whose infatuation with her led to divorce from his wife. Jannings had returned to Germany after 1929 saw his thick accent go out of vogue with the sound era; while he continued to do films for years, this is probably his last memorable one before the Nazi era. In later years, labeled an "artist of the state", he starred in several moves intended to promote the cause of Nazi Germany (ironically, Dietrich was a key activist against Nazism and later called Jannings a "ham"). Jannings tried to defend his decisions by saying that “Open resistance would have meant a concentration camp” (incidentally, his co-star in Gerron and his director in Sternberg were both Jewish, and Gerron was murdered in a concentration camp when the Nazis occupied the Netherlands). The Blue Angel was the tenth film directed by Sternberg, and it is loosely based off the 1905 novel Professor Unrat, oder Das Ende eines Tyrannen (in German, "Unrat" means garbage) by Heinrich Mann, with the movie diverting in the second half of the book (which mainly means the movie is more downbeat); Carl Zuckmayer, Karl Vollmoller, Robert Liebmann, and Sternberg. The novel has been adapted multiple times, one of them being a 1959 adaptation for 20th Century Fox by Edward Dmytryk that saw Sternberg sue because he claimed to have the remake rights. An Indian movie was made with V. Shantaram's Pinjara (1972) and then again with Rainer Werner Fassbinder's Lola (1981).

There exist two versions of the movie, hewing to the tradition that happened with certain films of the time that saw actors doing the same movie in multiple languages (the easiest example being the 1931 Dracula, but that one had different directors and cast). You could check out the English version (only just discovered years ago) if you really need to see German-born actors like the main trio say lines they already say in German in English that is shorter than the 108-minute runtime of this film. Regardless, what you have here is a wonderous descent into madness in obsessive desire. It really is a point of irony that Jannings was eclipsed by Dietrich when it comes to mainstream attention, because he really does pull off an interesting performance when it comes to the art of watching a man crumble right before your eyes. It isn't a pry for sympathy or just time spent watching for the great fall, finding a careful balance of man against the enigmatic qualities of the woman that finds him bound and basically gagged. And then of course there is Dietrich, practically brimming like a flame bright enough to attract all the moths. Her cabaret act (one signified by her singing of "Falling in Love Again" [Ich bin von Kopf bis Fuß auf Liebe eingestellt]) is certainly one to help introduce a great presence to the screen in ideal quality when it comes to pointing out the hypocrisies that come with the loss of power for the illusion of love. One loses themselves in the pursuit of what they think is love, and she plays the kind of person you would see yourself losing your head (and more) for. She transfixes you by simply being there as an object of great presence and timing. Gerron makes for a useful showman in huckster confidence that could only be done by someone with worthy interesting in humor without overselling it. The film builds and builds itself to the culmination of all that ever can be and all that could ever be when it comes to taking grand steps to the path of supposed happiness and seeing what happens when the step comes with a great price, where trading power for desire sees everything turn to dust. The scenes of a man once at the helm of a desk with great power now reduced to languishing to being the second in a romantic partnership is communicated with worthy pictorial power by Sternberg. He captures the essence of obsession with a pretty good experience that one should consider watching for themselves to see what the fuss is all about with the movie that started it all with Dietrich and Sternberg.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Duel.

Review #2000: Duel.

Cast: 

Dennis Weaver (David Mann), with Jacqueline Scott (Mrs. Mann), Carey Loftin (Truck Driver), Eddie Firestone (Café Owner), Lou Frizzell (Bus Driverdagger), Eugene Dynarski (Man in Café), Lucille Benson (Lady at Snakerama), Tim Herbert (Gas Station Attendant), and Charles Seel (Old Man) 

Directed by Steven Spielberg (#126 - Close Encounters of the Third Kind, #168 - Raiders of the Lost Ark, #169 - Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, #170 - Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, #302 - Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, #351 - Schindler's List, #480 - Jaws, #563 - The Sugarland Express, #573 - E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, #642 - Jurassic Park, #958 - Always, #1068 - Ready Player One, #1305 - Catch Me If You Can, #1478 - The Color Purple, #1520 - Saving Private Ryan, and #1528 - A.I. Artificial Intelligence, #1560 - The Adventures of Tintin, #1843 -  The Lost World: Jurrassic Park)

Review: 

"I mean, I believe that stuff. I don't think you can be a filmmaker, a serious filmmaker making audience popcorn movies unless you believe the stories you're telling."

In roughly 2,000 movies seen over the past twelve years or so, the one constant presence among the 133 directors with at least four films spotlighted is Steven Spielberg. One always has to remember that Spielberg got his start as a director from a very young age. The Cincinnati native made his first film with Firelight (1964) at the age of 17. Of course, his most prominent work in the early era came with Amblin' (1968), a short film that was so successful that he was signed to a deal with Universal Studios because an executive in Sid Sheinberg liked it that much. Of course, he had an ambition to want to direct films, but he found that he really had to get work within television first before someone would want him to direct films. As such, he would direct episodes for six television shows alongside three television films. You might recognize him as a director on two firsts: the second segment of the pilot for Night Gallery ("Eyes") and the director of the first regular episode of Columbo ("Murder by the Book") in September of 1971. Duel was his first true television film, airing on November 13, 1971 (weeks before Spielberg turned 25).

The film was written by Richard Matheson, who adapted his own short story that originally had been published in the April 1971 edition of Playboy magazine (after failing to get it done on television or as a film with executives), with inspiration taken from a real-life incident where he was tailgated by a trucker on November 22, 1963; the story was written after he took a trip from home to Ventura to record what he saw. Matheson, as one might know, was a noted writer of fiction, film, and television, whether that involved The Incredible Shrinking Man (1957) or episodes of the original The Twilight Zone. Spielberg's secretary Nona Tyson read the story and suggested it to Spielberg to try and lobby to make due to the plans already being set in motion by Universal. Spielberg showed a rough cut of his Columbo episode to help make a good impression to studio executives, which worked with the caveat of having just ten days to film. With a completion of 13 days with the use of five editors to make a Universal Television product ready for ABC's Movie of the Week, the film just made it to the finish line, helped by Spielberg and his skill in plotting out every camera shot he needed with an overhead map he commissioned that he had done of the area in California that would be for shooting (as opposed to doing it in a soundstage). Upon hearing the good ratings of the film (remember, this was 1971), Universal decided to give it a theatrical release, primarily in Europe and Australia (there apparently was a limited release in the United States, in 1983). When it came for a theatrical release, several scenes were shot later to make a 74-minute film into 90, which consists of: a scene involving a railroad crossing, one involving the lead dealing with a school bus and its driver, a scene on the phone with a character (Scott) in their only scene of the film, and an opening with a car backing out of a garage before it hits the open road (the TV one just shows it on the road already). Spielberg would make his formal debut in features with The Sugarland Express in 1974, and the rest is history.

The best films are the ones that adhere to their premises that you can tie down in a certain amount of sentences without having to strain in why it seems so interesting. This is especially apparent when you think about a movie about a man being terrorized on the road by a man in a truck whose face you never see. It really is a miracle movie, if you think about it. Can you imagine shooting a film like this in twelve days for television and then go on to find that it would be one that created demand for a theatrical release but also manage to be talked about after a half-century? Network Movie of the Weeks may be a thing of the past when it comes to must-see TV for most people, but one thing that has never gotten out of style is the thrill of a wonderful chase, and Spielberg excels handily here in a film that seems to lay all the stops for how he would make an even more captivating thriller of man and things around him with Jaws (1975). Both feature a creature that simply cannot be negotiated with and only lives to destroy anything vulnerable enough to its reach and both even feature the same rattle of sound. You haven't lived until you see a Peterbilt gasoline tanker truck look menacing in all of its dark brown glory. Believe it or not, Weaver was not the first choice. Gregory Peck, David Janssen, and Dustin Hoffman each were approached and turned down the role (Peck was approached with the idea as a theatrical film and not as a TV production), which opened the door for Weaver. He was perhaps best known for his roles as the secondary lead on Gunsmoke (1955-1964) and as the title lead in the 1970s police drama McCloud. Actually, it was his supporting role in Touch of Evil (1958) as a twitchy motel man that Spielberg found most interesting in intensity when it came to backing Weaver for the role. As such, he is allowed to roam at his own vulnerable pace, which either sees him look over his shoulder or try to compose himself with select dialogue. It isn't anything transcendent, but it is the kind of acting challenge that one in theory would love to have, since it involves someone trying their hardest to not turn the role into one that bounces off the wall in fear and instead find a clear balance. Spielberg excels when it comes to the visual storytelling that comes through in his shots that he wanted to make sure were not just comprised as close-ups with little to express, especially for a film that has to find tricks to make the speed of the car look as fast it seems to be going on screen while having multiple cameras running. This proves especially rewarding in the final sequence of man versus truck that sees one arrive at their final destination with glorious capturing by the cameras to make a worthy ending (thankfully, due to executive help, ABC's request to have an explosion at the end was not put in). As a whole, Duel is an achievement of worthwhile creativity for its filmmaker to make a simple premise into one of great tension that Alfred Hitchcock surely would have been proud of with a resourceful sense of timing and staging and one quality performance to make a highly memorable strike that makes a great first step into further curiosity. It takes it time in the best of ways that any young filmmaker would want to aspire for in their ambitions in satisfying the need to serve as a visual storyteller and entertain their audience with a solid foundation of craftsmanship for filmmaking.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

And so here we are at last. It took 2,495 days from the very first review to get to #1000 on October 19, 2017. 2,009 days later, a new collection of 1,000 reviews is here, no doubt aided by the fact that I have managed to write at least ten reviews for a month in all but six months that have followed October 2017 (to say nothing of 2020, a massive undertaking in a strange year). I think they outrank the original 1,000 by a significant margin, and that counts even with the revised reviews (such as #1). 

I hope the last five years have seen interesting films be featured with a useful perspective, whether that involved trying to make theme months out of January or August, or with spotlighting black history in film with February or women history with March or with the march of horror films in October and November. With any luck, I hope the next 1,000 is just as worthy of curiosity for readers out there. Onward.

Matango.

Review #1999: Matango.

Cast: 

Akira Kubo (Professor Kenji Murai), Kumi Mizuno (Mami Sekiguchi), Kenji Sahara (Senzō Koyama), Hiroshi Tachikawa (Etsurō Yoshida), Yoshio Tsuchiya (Masafumi Kasai), Hiroshi Koizumi (Naoyuki Sakuda), and Miki Yashiro (Akiko Sōma) Directed by Ishirō Honda (#167 - Godzilla, #711 - Mothra, #1092 - Gorath, #1223 - Godzilla, King of the Monsters!, #1224 - King Kong vs. Godzilla, #1225 - Mothra vs. Godzilla, #1226 - Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster, and #1623 - Invasion of Astro-Monster)

Review: 

Did you know that among all filmmakers classified as part of world cinema, the most prominent one among Movie Night is Ishirō Honda? A director is never thought of by the amount of films they do, of course, but it seemed just right on this occasion to pick a quality choice to spotlight a ninth Honda film. What better film than one that was basically ignored for decades? Sure, folks might remember him for his work within the kaiju and tokusatsu (special effects) features, but he directed a wide variety of genres in a 23-year career from comedy to drama, and one of those includes horror. The film was inspired by the 1907 short story "The Voice in the Night" by William Hope Hodgson. It was the second adaptation of the story, with the first having been a 1958 television episode of the series Suspicion (with direction by Arthur Hiller). However, it is the first and only film adaptation of the short story, albeit with modifications made. As such, the story for the film was done by Shinichi Hoshi and Takeshi Kimura, which then saw a screenplay composed by Takeshi Kimura. Evidently, the film had to avoid the rigors of censorship when it came to the makeup that is seen at select times that involved features to the face that looked like the disfigurements suffered by victims of the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The release of the film saw mixed reviews (as quoted by Honda, who described it as not really fitting the usual Japanese mainstream films) and not even a theatrical dubbing in America, since it was released straight to television by American International Television as "Attack of the Mushroom People". Honda stated that the film was both inspired by a story he read about rich kids that had to be rescued from their adrift yacht along with being a comment on the era when it comes to drug abuse.

Slow and tense works out just fine as long as one is fully invested in what is going on without finding holes to poke in the attempts at "serious drama" (i.e., if you know what you are getting into with a film like this in effects, how patient will one be to watch drama before that first reveal). In that sense, anyone who thinks they will get an odd little film about mushroom people will likely find a pretty grim and intriguing feature that actually proves the merits of having a dedicated director like Honda at the helm to make things stick. This is accomplished not by simply just cutting the time seen of the title being as it is a movie that finds the real villain in us, where our impulses and our differing moral qualities are more of a threat than the question of what lies beneath tasting a mushroom. At 89 minute, it sure is paced about right while balancing the expectation for mushroom havoc, which certainly does creep in the right spots (whether involving ones that grow quickly or, well, makeup). Interestingly enough, every single one of the main seven actors had worked with Honda at least once, whether that meant stuff such as Song for a Bride (1958) or Gorath (1962). Nobody really stands out among the cast when it comes to trying to play the angles of desperation, but the film is all the better for it to see a slow burn of strife that doesn't need to spoon-feed one with cheap jokes or hammy-ness. Of course, Kubo is a quality actor to start and end the film on a strong note when it comes to the setup, which reminds me of Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956), although I suppose movies about folks becoming one with a similar-thinking blob is surely ripe for countless interpretations. One would probably say that the people in the film are there to represent the various professions that were thriving in Japan at the time and it thus makes sense to see what could happen to them when faced with an island filled of just themselves with an outlet like art or trade to interact with. If one is patient for what the film is looking to say about the nature of people when faced with a withered sense of responsibility and an even more withered sense of what makes one happy. Grim as it may be, Matango is done by a responsible filmmaker to hit most of the marks needed in carefully developed horror that might make a useful recommendation for the curious at heart.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Tonight: The march to 2,000 ends. 

John Wick: Chapter 4.

Review #1998: John Wick: Chapter 4.

Cast: 

Keanu Reeves (John Wick), Donnie Yen (Caine), Bill Skarsgård (the Marquis Vincent de Gramont), Laurence Fishburne (the Bowery King), Hiroyuki Sanada (Shimazu Koji), Shamier Anderson (Mr. Nobody / The Tracker), Lance Reddick (Charon), Rina Sawayama (Shimazu Akira), Scott Adkins (Killa Harkan), Clancy Brown (the Harbinger), Ian McShane (Winston Scott), and Natalia Tena (Katia) Directed by Chad Stahelski (#905 - John Wick, #906 - John Wick: Chapter 2, #1222 - John Wick Chapter 3 – Parabellum)

Review: 

"John Wick is a weird spillover of anime, manga, graphic novel sensibility as well as Wuxia films, Chanbara films, Samurai films, and Westerns. It’s got this weird transference."

It was ten years ago this year that Keanu Reeves signed on for a project that in the end run became a franchise. It is funny to consider that John Wick became a franchise that has seemingly risen in ambition with each passing sequel that has adequate staging in plot to accompany exquisite staging when it comes to action. You don't need me to tell you that this film is already a hit or that it is the longest film of the series at 169 minutes. I would be silly to not mention that a spinoff of the series is intended for release the following year with Ballerina with some of the main cast; a limited series "from the world of John Wick" will also be present in the coming months, if you are into that sort of thing. The film was written by Shay Hatten (who co-wrote the third film with series creator Derek Kolstad) and Michael Finch.

Honestly, it is hard to say which of the three John Wick sequels has turned out the best (if you want to be technical, the first is probably still the best for the surprise that comes with such a raw film). It definitely is the one where Reeves seems to say the least number of words, adhering most to the tradition set out by Sergio Leone's spaghetti westerns with its one quiet hero. Each of the films feature plenty of what you might as well call gun-fu to go with fairly distinct actors getting to play support to Reeves and his exquisite timing as an action icon. The movies are bombastic in trying to top the other while finding new places to play like a kid wanting to take the toybox to new places, whether that means a sequence shot in Jordan or an action sequence at the Arc de Triomphe. The movie takes action sequences like it is water to absorb, which means one sees the vast effort required to make these scenes important to view in their ass-kicking glory without a feeling of repetition. There's plenty of targets to go around from the disposable to Scott Adkins in a fat suit hamming it up for all that seems clearly required. Reeves clearly knows what he likes as the ultimate action-boogeyman, one who moves through any sort of scene with precision and engagement for the action ballet that takes place with him usually at the forefront that shows the dedication required in performing a mix of judo and mixed marital arts that looks just like it feels to watch in absorption. The fact that a good chunk of his dialogue is just "yeah" is probably more of the fact that one has gotten to the point where he is simply just where he needs to be without such need for lengthy moments in his path of last vengeance (or in a different way, the path of seeing where his smoldering decisions have left others). Yen accompanies him in his style of worthwhile action charisma, a worthy match against Reeves in saying what needs to be said, which goes double for someone playing a blind assassin. Skarsgård makes a quality adversary, preening in haughtiness in a series all about the sheer arrogance that comes with not planning more than two steps ahead of a "Baba Yaga". Among the other additions is Anderson, who makes an adequate background mercenary, while Sawayama (a singer in their acting debut) does well in the parts they are in the film, which mostly involves interaction with Sanada, which is neat. It's always fun to see Brown or McShane around, but it is especially true with Reddick, who passed away last month at the age of 60 (small sentences or not, he always made this role distinct). The fact that a duel for the climax be handled so fervently in elegance is a testament to how the series has managed to hold in consistency. It is fun without becoming a needless excuse of dim lighting or being wishy-washy with its tone. As a whole, the film is paced well enough to roll with every punch and shot without dawdling on something for too long. Who knows where the series might go from here, but I can safely say that it was a pleasure to see Reeves on screen again in a role that he obviously seemed born to play to go along with a director that knows what he likes in raising the expectations set as a director that makes one curious to see what could be next.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: A special celebration on April 20th in the way best suited for Movie Night: a double-header with one film of world cinema and one from America.

Creed III.

Review #1997: Creed III.

Cast: 

Michael B. Jordan (Adonis "Donnie" Creed), Tessa Thompson (Bianca Taylor-Creed), Jonathan Majors (Damian "Diamond Dame" Anderson), Wood Harris (Tony "Little Duke" Evers), Mila Davis-Kent (Amara Creed), Florian Munteanu (Viktor Drago), Phylicia Rashad (Mary Anne Creed), José Benavidez Jr (Felix Chavez), Selenis Leyva (Laura Chavez), and Anthony Bellew ("Pretty" Ricky Conlan) Directed by Michael B. Jordan.

Review: 

"Creed is the first character I'm coming back to play three times. I've been daydreaming about the opportunity and had a clear vision of where I want this character to go moving forward. I'm looking forward to sharing the story with everybody."

You know, I was quite curious to see another one of these films, because they have managed to cultivate riveting entertainment that maintains interesting drama within its perspective in boxing (for the most part) ever since the original Rocky in 1976 (as inspired originally by the fight between Chuck Wepner and Muhammad Ali) and the spinoff in Creed that was done in 2015 (and its sequel in 2018). I cannot imagine which is the biggest surprise, the fact that Rocky became a franchise that exceeded its underdog foundations or the fact that there are now as half as many Creed movies as there are Rocky movies without a lingering sense of repetition being apparent. Now, once again, the respective star of the boxing series have gone on to direct a film themselves. Jordan, who has acted in television and film since 1999, is in his directorial debut with this film, one that he has stated took influence in certain shots from anime. The screenplay was done by Keenan Coogler and Zach Baylin, while the story was done by Ryan & Keenan Coogler, and Baylin.

This is the first of these films to not feature Sylvester Stallone, but one never finds themselves dwelling on that fact for too long. Sure, the level of predictability for a boxing film is about where you would expect, but the film manages to maintain the consistency that has defined these Creed features that have seen riveting sequences of boxing to go with solid performances that are carried most significantly by Jordan. It does this while being the shortest of the series at 116 minutes, which is basically enough time to carry an enjoyable experience within family drama and the drama of old friends who basically are talking their feelings out by fighting (at one point, their match is shown with an empty crowd, which also serves as a way to counter the usual montage to pass the time of a fight). Jordan has managed to accomplish the feat of making this character quite compelling within the meshes of what you could call a (semi)mid-life crisis in trading a boxing suit for an actual suit (he is compared to Don King at one point, although at least one won't find similarities in "manslaughter" or "alleged fraud"). only to find the past coming back to reflect upon him. He pulls off a tremendous performance that showcases a towering level of confidence needed to keep the focus firmly where it belongs in fresh drama that highlights the progression of where this character has gone in these films and what road are still important to touch upon. Him and Thompson are each trying to convey the dilemma that comes with finding new outlets to channel their energy into (as one expects with anybody growing in age), and they make for useful chemistry in making this pursuit matter more than just a diversion. This goes double for the conversations spent between them and their on-screen daughter in Davis-Kent (as told through sign-language that is subtitled). The supporting cast do just fine, with Rashad providing warmth as one would expect, while the others handle the usual expectations to go alongside moments spent in flashback, which is conveyed with suitable execution that doesn't seem tacked on.

Of course, you need a quality boxing adversary. Majors steps up to that challenge with relative ease, one who turns the pursuit of victory with nothing to lose that makes for the chaotic underdog trying to make a second-act comeback. The troubled core that comes through with him and his pursuits make for a suitable presence to counter Jordan, ones who are intertwined in more ways than one when it comes to stubborn determination. People who are into sports films that take the time to show folks at their craft in the art of training montages will naturally be right at home here, which at one point sees training done by towing a plane. Admittedly, you could draw a thin comparison between previous films in the Rocky series, mostly with the third and fifth film, since each film sees the lead actor try to cope with the idea of stepping away from the ring...only to fight again anyway (hey, if it worked for 45-year-old George Foreman...). The final fight proves electrifying as one expects, establishing that one really can't make boxing boring if they actually show perspective to go alongside choreography and a convincing execution (the other fight shown is also quality stuff in its own direction). The fact that seven out of nine of these combined films are pretty good with at least two quality standouts is a testament to the power of fair writing to accompany entertainment value that make for fun sports films, and I can't wait to see what could happen next.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Murder by Death.

Review #1996: Murder by Death. 

Cast: 

Eileen Brennan (Tess Skeffington), Truman Capote (Lionel Twain), James Coco (Milo Perrier), Peter Falk (Sam Diamond), Alec Guinness (Bensonmum), David Niven (Dick Charleston), Elsa Lanchester (Jessica Marbles), Peter Sellers (Sidney Wang), Maggie Smith (Dora Charleston), Nancy Walker (Maid), Estelle Winwood (Nurse), James Cromwell (Marcel), and Richard Narita (Willie Wang) Directed by Robert Moore.

Review: 

Admittedly, the appeal is in how much you are invested in mystery characters being spoofed. No, not Sherlock Holmes (that was a deleted scene), but characters such as Sam Spade and Nick & Nora Charles (as created by Dashiell Hammett) to go alongside the works of Agatha Christie in Hercule Poirot and Miss Marple. Oh, and Charlie Chan (as written by Earl Derr Biggers). Neil Simon, playwright and screenwriter of previous ventures such as The Heartbreak Kid (1972) and The Sunshine Boys (1975) wrote the screenplay for this film. This was the first film for director Robert Moore, who had done a handful of productions in the theater such as The Boys in the Band in 1968 and Promises, Promises the following year (Moore did a number of television shows and three total films as a film director before his untimely death). Falk, who is imitating Sam Spade that was notably portrayed on screen by Humphrey Bogart in The Maltese Falcon (1941), returned with Moore and Simon to play a parody of Bogart with The Cheap Detective in 1978 alongside Brennan, Coco, and Cromwell. So yes, here are with a movie that wants to have fun with the "old dark house" genre that was pretty big in the early part of the 20th century, complete with plenty of name actors to go around, which includes two actors making their final appearance in Winwood and Walker and one in Cromwell making his first.

You know, for the most part, it is a pretty good time for 94 minutes. Sure, not every joke is bound to land, and it probably lingers a bit in being too smart and silly for its own good, but it does generally work the points it wants to do when it comes to in the realm of the mystery spoof. It is breezy without laboring hard within its one setting and one eventual punchline to outdo the setups done prior to the climax. It's interesting to watch Falk here in a role that makes light of a hard-boiled detective, mostly because a considerable amount of time has been spent by me (in the past few months) watching him in probably his most famous role as Colombo. But he is a talented actor, playing to the hard-nosed expectations of the spoof role and exceeding it quite well in generating chuckles without playing it as just an easy buffoon, which basically means dry warmth, and Brennan clings with resourceful timing that fits for a genre riff. Guinness seems to be having fun with this role, which mostly has him stumble around for effect with a few offbeat lines and play a blind man. Sellers is in prosthetics to play a character that most famously had been played by Swedish-born actor Warner Oland, much in the same way that Sellers did a decade earlier when playing an Indian in The Party (1968), which is easily the most dated aspect of the film. He does bring a few chuckles, if only because the lines seem so intentionally corny to begin with, one who seems intentionally out of date with the times to make laughs. Of course, Sellers would (in)famously have his last role end up being the title role of The Fiendish Plot of Dr. Fu Manchu in 1980 (one year after that film, Peter Ustinov (another non-Asian actor) played Charlie Chan in Charlie Chan and the Curse of the Dragon Queen (1981), and since that film, neither of the two characters have been portrayed on film). Niven and Smith make a decent pairing in the expense of The Thin Man that namely involves them playing the role to pleasantries. Capote is, well, a writer brought in to play against the other mystery spoofs in his first and only major role in a film. It has been said that Simon and Moore thought about replacing him with an actor but that it never came to pass. Eh, he does what is needed in parts, since it isn't really his movie to steal the scenery as is the case with the others. Coco and Lanchester prove fine in the mildest sense of comic relief. The cliche elements of old are lovingly utilized to chuckles, whether involving an old dark house or hired help with more on the mind than housewares or convivences stacked upon conveniences (which makes for an amusing ending). As a whole, the movie takes a familiar presence with familiar detective types (be it the rough detective or general sleuth) and has a fun time with it, finding a clear balance between ribbing the dynamics that come with trying to play around with an audience and not simply just tearing the dynamic to shreds. It is good fun without being wrapped up in annoyance for its audience, which on the whole makes for a solid recommendation.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Next: Creed III.

Souls for Sale.

Review #1995: Souls for Sale.

Cast: 

Eleanor Boardman (Remember "Mem" Steddon), Lew Cody (Owen Scudder), Richard Dix (Frank Claymore), Mae Busch (Robina Teele), Frank Mayo (Tom Holby), Barbara La Marr (Leva Lamaire), Arthur Hoyt (Jimmy Leland), David Imboden (Caxton), Roy Atwell (Arthur Tirrey), Forrest Robinson (Rev. John Steddon), Edith Yorke (Mrs. Steddon), William Orlamond (Lord Fryingham), Aileen Pringle (Lady Jane), and Snitz Edwards (Komical Kale, the Klown) Written and Directed by Rupert Hughes.

Review: 

Well, there's always room for movies about Hollywood. The movie is adapted from the novel of the same name, which was written by none other than Rupert Hughes. Born in Lancaster, Missouri, he studied at both Case Western Reserve University and Yale University and graduated from each with degrees before the turn of the 20th century. Eschewing the idea of teaching, he decided to become a writer, turning his attention to novels alongside reporting on occasion. He entered film in the 1910s as a writer with films such as The Deaf Mute (1913). His first film as a director was The Wall Flower (1922). In total, he was a director-writer on seven films from 1922 to 1924, although he continued to dabble in screenwriting, which included him introducing his nephew Howard (yes, that Hughes) to the film industry; Hughes died in 1956 at the age of 84. Boardman was actually in her first starring role here. She had dabbled in the stage, but when she lost her voice, she assumed it was dwindling down. Hearing about a contest for "New Faces" by the Goldwyn studio, she entered it and became one of two winners (the other was William Haines) among hundreds of entrants. Paul Bern, a director/writer of what became Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, helped her with the screentest, turning a disastrous first take into one that got her a contract (incidentally, Haines appears in a small role in this film). She made her debut with The Strangers' Banquet (1922) and did supporting roles with two further films before appearing as star with this film, which ironically is a role about an aspiring actress trying to make it in Hollywood; she retreated from acting after 1935, having had highlights in films such as The Crowd (1928). The film was thought lost for many years until it surfaced in vaults in the late 1980s before it was restored in 2006.

As a whole, the movie is light fun in melodrama and mythmaking. It varies wildly in what genre it wants to be, mostly because it can't settle between the perils of Hollywood on a youth or an oddball serial killer that likes young brides. It doesn't exactly gel well with each other, with only the offbeat title cards (interestingly, "simp" is used here about trying to sell oneself to a person when it comes to trying to act) coming in second in making an odd tone. It is generally involving at 90 minutes though, mostly because one can't help but wonder what little surprise cameo you could see coming, whether that involves Charlie Chaplin at work or whatever. I find it more interesting when it tries to play perspective in what it means to try and be an actor in a grueling industry and the emotions that come with it rather than, well, the moralizing that happens with those title cards. My favorites: an oddball that says when an actor gets into trouble, "they blame the screen" or movie folk that are "factory hard" when rising and leaving early and late. Bottom line, the movie thinks to try and put the stars on a pedestal too highly, especially considering that Hollywood actors like Roscoe Arbuckle had just gone through two trials (with a third happening in the very month this film was released) for manslaughter. In other words: actors may have interesting lives and troubles, but you really can't expect me to believe they have a hard factory life like this. Anyway, the movie itself is just fine, because Boardman does fine with the material, malleable in drama and plucky ambition (despite probably having the corniest name seen in a silent lead character in quite some time). Dix and Mayo try to make this a love triangle, but honestly, I forget sometimes which is which, so go figure that the director is the one who gets the girl over the actor. Interestingly, this was one of Dix's first roles as a film actor. Cody evidently was known for "male vamp roles", so this makes an interesting adversary, even if it tries to play it both ways a bit with the ending (you can do creeping or you can do sympathetic, don't try both). Really, it is the light relief provided by people such as Busch (a future associate of the Laurel and Hardy films) or with La Marr (a vamp icon until her premature death) or with Edwards and his usual presence. As a whole, I wanted to like the film more than I did when it comes to films that have not had the pleasure of being discovered as long as other silent films, but it mostly is just okay. As a weird and odd mess that tries to play melodrama and Hollywood sunshine, it comes off as a strange amusement that can work if one is in the mood for certain expectations.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Five to go.