The Monkey.

Review #2347: The Monkey.

Cast: 

Theo James (Hal and Bill Shelburn; Christian Convery as young Hal and Bill), Tatiana Maslany (Lois Shelburn), Colin O'Brien (Petey), Rohan Campbell (Ricky), Sarah Levy (Ida), Adam Scott (Capt. Petey Shelburn), Elijah Wood (Ted Hammerman), Oz Perkins (Chip), and Danica Dreyer (Annie Wilkes) Directed by Oz Perkins (#2230 - Longlegs)

Review:

"The thing with this toy monkey is that the people around it all die in insane ways. So, I thought: Well, I'm an expert on that.' Both my parents died in insane, headline-making ways. I spent a lot of my life recovering from tragedy, feeling quite bad. It all seemed inherently unfair. You personalize the grief: 'Why is this happening to me?' But I'm older now and you realize this shit happens to everyone. Everyone dies. Sometimes in their sleep, sometimes in truly insane ways, like I experienced. But everyone dies. And I thought maybe the best way to approach that insane notion is with a smile."

Well, everybody dies. As I recall, 1000 Ways to Die put a bit of spooking in my mind when it came to strange deaths, exaggerated or not (well, as much as one can do when on a network named "Spike" that rolled with accidents such as exploding breast implants or death by sex); yes, some people die weird rather than, say, diabetes or murder. So anyway, The Monkey. The original story, as written by Stephen King, came out as a booklet in Gallery magazine in 1980. A lazy reading of a synopsis of the story (by me) reveals that it actually didn't have a twin brother in the first place, merely having flashbacks to an only child finding a monkey (which banged cymbals rather than drums) that clapped its cymbals before a calamity followed before he foolishly believes he can throw it in a well to stop it. Of course, that one had the curse strike animals (cats, and, uh, fish). It isn't often a director mentions their parents dying in "headline-making ways", but here we are. Perkins elected to eschew the proposal to make a serious adaptation of the story for his screenplay, listing various "patron saints" from Richard Donner to John Landis, to Chuck Jones and most specifically, Robert Zemeckis' Death Becomes Her (1992). 

Okay, work with me on this one. This film is basically Final Destination (2000) if it was actually competent. Death is an unseen force in both movies, if you think about it...except this film at least leans in with having a sop for a lead presence that you might expect from someone troubled with the specter of death that they get to see around them that you cannot really truly beat. Truthfully, the gore in violence is sometimes more amusing to see play out more than the actual attempts at humor, and this seems apparent here, which is still a compliment for a movie that manages to find new ways to turn the screw on looking at the strange qualities that come with death rather than try to chill it to the bone. In short: guilt all you want, sometimes it can be amusing to see weird stuff happen to people for no reason, such as say, cutting to a funeral after someone has used the drum that resulted in someone getting trampled to death. Spooky or not, it at least hits enough to strike for some queasy amusement to be had for 98 minutes to at least make for a suitable viewing alongside certain Stephen King adaptations. Even with its twin settings of 1999 and 2024, one does have this weird, warped feeling where it isn't exactly beholden to a specific time or place (for instance, a phone book page gets used at one point). It is interesting to see twins played by the same person in two different ages with James and Convery, to see those differences in what one does in the face of impulse at the expense of being alone with the pit of one's soul. Others are there for bits and pieces, such as a semi-amusing Maslany or O'Brien, who does fine with playing the one stuck in the middle of what you might call a family tradition in "choices" (the intro features Scott in a semi-amusing cameo after all). It sets up its misfortunes of death with stark execution that doesn't just splatter some red on the screen for the sake of it but instead makes its moments zing with cruel efficency, particulaly for its final cut. Admittedly, its hit-or-miss attitude can be a bit cloying enough to where I get where someone could just find it fine, because not everyone will find bemusement at two pathetic brothers that spend much time with a toy and playing the man of death. To each their own. As a whole, The Monkey is a worthwhile horror comedy in slick execution that has a few zingers within the terror in the randomness of death that will prove right up the alley of people who can chuckle with the best of them for gooey times.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

To Sleep with Anger.

Review #2346: To Sleep with Anger.

Cast: 

Danny Glover (Harry), Paul Butler (Gideon), Mary Alice (Suzie), Carl Lumbly (Junior), Vonetta McGee (Pat), Richard Brooks (Babe Brother), Sheryl Lee Ralph (Linda), DeVaughn Nixon (Sunny), Reina King (Rhonda), and Cory Curtis (Skip) Written and Directed by Charles Burnett (#1975 - Killer of Sheep)

Review: 

"There’s always been this issue of the black middle class’s responsibility to continue to be a force in the black community. One of To Sleep with Anger‘s themes deals with that issue, of the middle class abandoning the rest of the race, deserting the culture and then returning to it. The film is really about connecting the past to the present."

Admittedly, Charles Burnett deserved better as a filmmaker when it comes to actual attention for such a worthwhile debut. Killer of Sheep (1978) had the reputation of a classic for years before actually getting a real release decades later. Burnett's second feature suffered worse: My Brother's Wedding (1983) got screened to a film festival by foolish producers before he could finish editing that scared off distributors when the movie got mediocre reviews. It took until *2007* before the movie could even be re-released to considerable attention. And yet, To Sleep with Anger (1990) had its own fate. The movie apparently came out of the failure of producing a PBS film about irony and tragedy (yes, even the Corporation for Public Broadcasting can be picky with how they want their money spent). Instead, he sought out to do a movie about folklore and "the Black experience"; you have to remember Burnett was raised in Watts as the family moved from Mississippi when he was three years old. According to Burnett, the character played by Glover is based on a folk story called "the Hairy Man", which evidently refers to a part-devil, part African spirit, part-conjure doctor. Made on a budget of $1.1 million for distribution by The Samuel Goldwyn Company...the movie was not a financial success, which Burnett attributed to distribution, stating that it never got shown in more than 18 theaters. Apparently, it did not get a DVD release even as late as 2011, but hey, one can even find a Criterion DVD of this movie nowadays. Burnett's next film would come with The Glass Shield in 1994.

 

Within folklore and slow building curiosity is what happens when one really can just get under one's skin in the strangest ways possible. The 102-minute runtime is palpable enough for tension that wraps around an entire family because certain things really can upset the illusion of stability. Past and present are wrapped in a tug-of-war that should be pretty clear when you see the introduction that has a guy in flames while “Precious Memories" plays in the background. There have been quite a few movies and stories about the perils that come with looking upon tradition versus roots (I'm reminded of the Alice Walker short story "Everyday Use" in that sense), but with this one, family really can be forever in the folk sense. The movie probably benefits best from looking at it unfold its layers with its intriguing ensemble. Butler was more of a stage presence than a regular film actor, but he manages to do well in those moments spent toiling as a patriarch that we can relate to in terms of someone who clearly has something of the old place in their ways, which goes just as much for Alice and her carefully stated homespun charm. Glover's character basically has the shadow of the Devil around him with that worthwhile charm that manages to do so much or a movie that grounds itself in what you can and can't see around its odd atmosphere (admittedly, the high-rolling friends that arrive in the shadow of Glover that never leave will be pretty relatable for some in more ways than one). He is the stirring of the part of the soul that we think we have buried down there. It proves pretty clear with the simmering animosity one sees between Lumbly and Brooks (the latter is the youngest son, which naturally leads to the nickname "Babe") when it comes to how one approaches tasks in the family that are totally real to see play out because of the commitment on screen. The simmering discontent between a family that is more tightly wound than tightly knit before the arrival of a certain harry presence makes for a neat enough conclusion in playing things out to the crispest joke of them all in togetherness and resilience. As a whole, the tapestry of a family can wither or grow depending on how one sees the face of superstitions and things around them, and To Sleep with Anger makes for a fairly clever broiler with plenty of charms to go around.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Petey Wheatstraw.

Review #2345. Petey Wheatstraw.

Cast: 

Rudy Ray Moore (Petey Wheatstraw; Danny Poinson as Young Petey Wheatstraw and Clifford Roquemore II as Baby Petey Wheatstraw), Jimmy Lynch (Jimmy), Leroy Daniels (Leroy), Ernest Mayhand ("Skillet"), Ebony Wright (Nell / Pet, The Devil's Daughter), Wildman Steve (Steve), G. Tito Shaw (Lucifer / The Devil), and Ted Clemmons (Ted) Directed by Cliff Roquemore (#1974 - The Human Tornado)

Review: 

Honestly, I forgot that it has nearly been five years since I stumbled across Dolemite (1975), which starred the one and only Rudy Ray Moore, which was gloriously ridiculous from the top all the way down in terms of filmmaking and general execution in a way that you can't really hope to replicate. But of course, Moore continued to appear in movies, such as 1976's The Human Tornado and The Monkey Hustle (where he basically was doing a cameo) ...which did not go great. But you can't blame Moore for continuing to dip the toe in doing movies when the time seems right to do them. Cliff Roquemore (who, well, directed the Dolomite follow-up) is credited as having written the film as "based on the character created by R. R. Moore", one in which the movie also has a subtitle of "The Devil's Son in Law". Moore would headline one more theatrical film with Disco Godfather (released in 1979 that Roquemore co-wrote) before a string of appearances ranging from bit parts to "direct-to-video" would occur for the rest of his career. Okay, get this: our title character is one who came out of the womb as basically a six-year-old that turns to kung fu and, well, nightclub comedian. In the first twenty minutes, one gets to see our lead have his vehicle nearly robbed before he does a chase on foot to beat them up and make them re-assemble his car, for example. It doesn't take too long for him to do a line pretty similar to Dolemite, what with a line such as, "you no-business, barn rat, soup-eating, son of a- (well you get the idea)". This goes right in hand with, uh, a child getting shot and murdered as part of the thrown-together plot of extortion that yes, does deal with a guy dying and coming back to life with help of the Devil. Actually, I almost forgot, right after the, you know, child murder, the funeral party is *shot at with machine guns in broad daylight*. At least this Devil story has its own twist: the Devil will grant our hero the chance for revenge (which starts by rewinding the whole "murder in broad daylight" thing) ...as long as he marries the Devil's daughter and gets busy. 

Did I mention the magic pimp cane? At any rate, the nicest thing I can say about this movie is that it might be the kind of movie one watches for sheer curiosity. Just describing scenes that happen in the movie for a review seems like a futile way to talk about a movie that doesn't exactly take itself seriously in the first place, as if being a piece of schlock is the worst thing imaginable. For the most part, it is committed to just throwing gags to the wall and living by what seems to stick, which is basically hit and miss for its 95-minute runtime, where Moore is amusing here and there. I just wish Shaw was a more interesting figure when it comes to, you know, playing the Devil, because even a moderate foil to go against Moore would be helpful rather than a movie that drifts in commitment from moment to moment. Daniels and Mayhand were actually a comedy duo in their time and even did a bit of television together (hey, ever heard of Sanford and Son?), so the bumbling they do is about on point moment to moment. You get a few silly fights and some tricks with rewinding/fast forwarding to go with one joke about scaring someone right in the pants. The ending is probably about as appropriately half-assed as possible: you get a bit of "fighting" to go along with a fake-out ending, which I suppose works better than the Devil being brought down by a comedian that loves the hell out of a cane. As a whole, the rule of diminishing returns doesn't apply as severely here with Moore because one can at least appreciate the brazen energy displayed on screen while noting that a hit-or-miss comedy is in the eye of the beholder and sometimes you might just get lucky with what you find. I can't say it's "good enough" to win out, but if you can dig what the movie is selling, well, start digging...

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.