Honky Tonk Freeway.

Review #2565: Honky Tonk Freeway.

Cast: 

Beau Bridges (Duane Hansen), Beverly D'Angelo (Carmen Odessa Shelby), William Devane (Mayor Kirby T. Calo), Hume Cronyn (Sherm), Jessica Tandy (Carol), Teri Garr (Ericka Kramer), George Dzundza (Eugene), Joe Grifasi (Osvaldo), Geraldine Page (Sister Mary Clarise), Howard Hesseman (Snapper Kramer), Paul Jabara (T.J. Tupus), Jenn Thompson (Delia Kramer), Peter Billingsley (Billy Kramer), Daniel Stern (Hitchhiker), Celia Weston (Grace), Deborah Rush (Sister Mary Magdalene), Frances Lee McCain (Claire Calo), with Jerry Hardin (Governor), and John Ashton (Otto Kemper) Directed by John Schlesinger (#1431 - Midnight Cowboy)

Review: 

"I see HONKY TONK FREEWAY as a comedy about characters, so it needs extremely fine care and acting. This is what appealed to me, because I’m mainly intrigued with the people in my films rather than with the plot. This is a comedy about people living on the brink, and that’s the way most people actually live, I think. "

To be honest, I had this film on my radar for a couple of months because of its unusual allure. You've got an Academy Award winning director (12 years, but sure), a couple of name actors...and a movie that was a noted financial failure (with Thorn EMI Screen Entertainment in particular taking the hit in a time where they also took part in productions of The Jazz Singer and Can't Stop the Music). Apparently, the first step in the making of the film came with producer Don Boyd, who was travelling around locations when working near Boston that gave him an idea to then take to playwright and aspiring screenwriter Edward Clinton. As it happened, John Schlesinger wanted to make a big comedy movie after finishing work on Yanks (1979). When Schlesinger came into the production (who once stated that some of the charm that attracted him came from the "naivete" and "fresh [writing]" of Clinton), a handful of drafts were crafted with the collaboration of Clinton (which namely involved the characters in town and development). With a movie production he called at the time his "most complicated" (owning to a production that ballooned to over $23 million with filming in Florida [Mount Dora, Sarasota, mostly] to go along with orphans and various animals) before more money was spent on promotion before distribution by Universal Pictures that, to put it mildly, did not find any type of audience. At any rate, Schlesinger did keep directing, with such movies as The Falcon and the Snowman (1985) and Pacific Heights (1990) while Boyd* produced a few films every now and then, most notably with Aria (1987) while Clinton never wrote another film. 

Evidently, certain folks thought the movie was "anti-American". What exactly is un-American about disciplined chaos? People love a good scalawag, particularly when they see themselves in the person getting, shall we say, screwed over. There's a wide variety of ridiculous people all covered with this movie (one with quite the time capsule: a person at one point is shown wearing an ERA yes button*) that happens to be funny (in shorter terms, it's the type of folks who don't care if you use the word "virago"* in a sentence). Is it a great "satire" or one with useful "irony"? Look, let me level with you on something that seems straight enough to ward off a conman: you are either going to have fun with a comedy because you laughed enough times to have it win you over or you did not have fun. I had fun with these oddballs, ones who don't have that much shame to go around. In their eyes, being subtle isn't worth a damn if it doesn't aid in chasing "the dream". Sure, the dream could be as simple as playing hardball to get an off-ramp (what's a little bribery in the name of community), believing that a carnivorous pony is the book ticket, or trying to make it to Florida of all places to settle down*. Some of the episodic elements are hit and miss, mainly because you can only go so far over the place with getting folks to a small Florida town. Devane is probably the best part of the movie because there is something so entertaining about his desperation as both mayor and preacher in a town that goes for whatever he wants in the simple art of the deal: even weird publicity is still publicity (beyond the attempt to make a safari park attraction, anyway*). Dzundza and Grifasi make for fair enough goofball robbers while you get some worthy religious (and inevitable) hypocrisy from the pair of Page and Rush. Others end up mostly fine in characterization but likable enough if you happen to appreciate the presence of say, Bridges (duh) or D'Angelo (sure) or Tandy (take it or leave it). My only quibble is the ending, because it doesn't really know how to end besides, I'm not kidding, a motor collision involving a character nobody cares about (Jabara, playing a wannabee singer in a movie that already loves its title song a bit too much) and a rhino. Sure, it can be construed as following along the lines of other madcap movies such as say, It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World (1963), but you would hope for something a little better for a movie that already could be thought of as (wrongfully) a poor man's Nashville (1975). As a whole, it comes and goes for 108 minutes of useful enough entertainment that has its ebbs and flows with humor coming in all sides of the oddballs of America that may be up your alley on the curiosity freeway.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Song of the day!

Yes, you heard that right, Acknowledged in August Again. I had enough fun with it back in 2024, so let's do it all over again with some movies that didn't get proper recognition back in its day and see if they deserved better. 

Next up...Fraser. Buscemi. Sandler. AIRHEADS!

*Special credit goes to this article I stumbled onto when googling the movie that I think delivers a bit of insight into the movie on their own terms: Box office failure: "Honky Tonk Freeway" and the risks of embarrassing the United States by Julia Prewitt Brown

*Boyd is a busy guy, as evidenced by stuff such as this: The University of Exeter - Honorary Graduates - Saturday 17 January 2009 morning ceremony

*The thing about not being religious is if you don't believe, then Phyllis Schlafly may just be dead rather than in Hell, or, worse yet, Heaven.

*Okay, I read that word in a tweet once.

*I knew someone who lived in Florida. They're dead to me now, but I hope they enjoyed that state because I'll be damned if I spend time there.

*Incidentally, Devane landed his most noted regular role as a politician-turned-businessman in the soap opera Knots Landing two years after this movie. Nice.

Redux: Raiders of the Lost Ark.

Redux Review #168: Raiders of the Lost Ark.

Cast: 

Harrison Ford (Indiana Jones), Karen Allen (Marion Ravenwood), Paul Freeman (René Belloq), Ronald Lacey (Major Arnold Toht), John Rhys-Davies (Sallah), Denholm Elliott (Marcus Brody), with Alfred Molina (Satipo), Wolf Kahler (Colonel Dietrich), Anthony Higgins (Major Gobler), Vic Tablian (Barranca / Monkey Man), Don Fellows (Colonel Musgrove), William Hootkins (Major Eaton), Bill Reimbold (Bureaucrat), Fred Sorenson (Jock), Patrick Durkin (Australian Climber), Pat Roach (Giant Sherpa / 1st Mechanic), and George Harris (Simon Katanga) Directed by Steven Spielberg (#126 - Close Encounters of the Third Kind).

Review: 

"Indiana Jones was never a machine. I think one of the things we brought to the genre—and we didn’t coin the genre; it’s been around a lot longer than we’ve been around—but one of the things that George [Lucas] and I and, originally, Larry Kasdan, the writer of Raiders of the Lost Ark, brought to the genre, was the willingness to allow our leading man to get hurt and to express his pain and to get his mad out and to take pratfalls and sometimes be the butt of his own jokes. I mean, Indiana Jones is not a perfect hero, and his imperfections, I think, make the audience feel that, with a little more exercise and a little more courage, they could be just like him. So he’s not the Terminator. He’s not so far away from the people who go to see the movies that he’s inaccessible to their own dreams and aspirations."

What is it about Indiana Jones that drives so much fascination after 45 years? As the story goes, George Lucas, fresh off American Graffiti, had ideas in mind about wanting to do a movie like the ones he used to see a kid. He thought of doing an adventure with a college professor who basically was like James Bond on as "a bounty hunter of antiquities" that liked the nightclub. A little collaboration with his friend Philip Kaufman (director of films such as The Great Northfield, Minnesota Raid [1972] and The White Dawn [1974]) led to the ditching of the nightclub but also led to the pursuit of the Ark of the Covenant. Lucas paused on the idea when Kaufman was off to direct The Outlaw Josey Wales (1976) to focus on, well, Star Wars (1977). Incidentally, one person who wanted to do a Bond type of adventure thriller was Steven Spielberg; the success of Star Wars in May 1977, with Lucas and Spielberg each on vacation in Hawaii, spurred things along for an eventual collaboration (after months of Lucas waiting to see if Kaufman would do it fell through). Spielberg brought in Lawrence Kasdan, who Spielberg suggested because he had just convinced Universal Pictures to purchase Kasdan's script for Continental Divide. They spent several days in 1978 doing a pitching session that argued and paced out what would happen in the story (which you can find here, because it was taped). Kasdan was once quoted as stating that everything in the film "resonates from other movies", specifically adventure films like Seven Samurai to The Great Escape, where they chased that feeling while the film did not take itself too seriously*. Filmed in 1980, Raiders was Spielberg's sixth feature film as a director, falling right between 1941 (1979) and E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial (1982). It was released on June 12, 1981 with mild expectations because of the impending release in America of Superman II that was coming on June 19 (incidentally, audiences could also choose between Raiders or Clash of the Titans, or History of the World, Part I); the result was a massive hit that reportedly saw over 70 million tickets be sold in a time when people could see a movie in theaters for a year. It was nominated for nine Academy Awards that went down from Best Picture to Cinematography, winning for art direction, editing, sound, visual effects, and a special one for sound editing (that year, Chariots of Fire, a movie that I'm sure everyone knows beyond that one song, won Best Picture*). There were four sequels of varying quality (Temple of Doom - really good, actually; Last Crusade - a charmer; Kingdom of the Crystal Skull - better the next time around; Dial of Destiny - fine the one time I saw it) and a television show with The Young Indiana Jones Chronicles.

It's easy to go on and on about the influences that shaped Indiana Jones (matinee serials, China [1943], Secret of the Incas [1954], others) or just go point by point about the beauty of the film from its cinematography by Douglas Slocombe or the tremendously diverting score by John Williams all the way down to Harrison Ford being the one to lead it over, say, Tom Selleck. It was released in a time where you could show multiple people get shot (along with the whole Ark thing), snakes going around dead bodies, blood splatter right as a dude gets chopped by a plane blade...and get a PG rating. The easiest way to describe the movie is that it is an adventure with tremendous respect for its viewer that has something for everyone in a manner that seems effortless but is actually the result of so many worthy things going so well. It is the kind of movie that benefits from re-watches in what you view from certain scenes the second time around, because there are moments that really are just allowed to breathe without needing dialogue, when you think about it (this may come from the fact that the movie was extensively storyboarded, because he felt he needed every storyboard to stay on schedule). You enjoy the people that enter the sphere around Jones in what they bring to the table in their own pockets of time, whether that involves a trained monkey spy or the worthy menace brought by people such as Lacey. It's a wonderful movie to look at, right down to what is right there on screen and what actually is say, a matte painting. It all rests on Ford being something beyond the matinee hero: an academic and an adventurer (okay that was paraphrasing what he once said about the character, but still). He balances the tightrope of strength and wit that can be just as vulnerable as he can be funny in an adventure that basically is a ride of humility (contrary to Han Solo, the character of Jones doesn't start out as, well a conman).

It's not all about rescuing and getting the girl on the way to glory, it is a movie where you really do have to close your eyes to see beyond what you think you know about the world. Allen is just simply charming in that sort of independence that we gravitate to even in without as much backstory to really sink into (which is where imagination comes to play when thinking about looking at the interactions between her and Ford as compared to the ones between her and Freeman). Freeman is a capable shadow of Ford, a disturbing presence in how sly one can be when collaborating with the worst of humanity because he believes in himself so highly as a fallen angel of archaeology. A fly could buzz around his mouth and all he cares about is where he looms on the chessboard. You get the delightful elegance, charm or otherwise, with Rhys-Davies (cast as a mix between his role in Shōgun and John Falstaff*) and Elliott (the always beloved British actor), did I forget that? Wrapped within its 115-minute runtime is a movie that breezes along in finding the pieces of the puzzle in its adventure ride that respects its audience in allowing it to breathe and experience the action sequences or its effects spectacle (spooky ghosts always gets a vote) that I probably appreciate even more than when I first saw it as a teenager. It's hard to really say just what is the best sequence of the whole film between, say, the opening sequence or the Map Room - you just have to see it (and I mean see it) to really believe it, where a B-movie feel leads to going along with its rhythm quickly. It's the kind of movie that makes you feel young again, and it is the kind of movie that scratches the itch every now and then to crave adventure and maybe get something from the pursuit of history. The second one plays to the lizard brain interests for intensity and comedy, the third and fourth ones pursued a family tale with leaps of faith and the fifth, well, plays to having at least one more good time in old age, so there's that as well. It is sincerity without becoming devout in the best ways imaginable. 45 years later, it is the movie with the best type of qualities: the milage of craftsmen at work all coming together for a true return to the great adventure.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

theme of the day

*Because of his work in the script, Kasdan was approached by Lucas to work on The Empire Strikes Back (1980).

*Nobody really dwells on a Welsh actor playing Sallah and neither do you.

*Of all the times to give an Academy Award to the British, good lord. I do wonder if Reds holds up enough that Warren Beatty deserved a Best Director award. 

*Incidentally, Steven Soderbergh did a cut of the film in 2014 that aimed to show how the film really shined in the staging, which he did by taking out the audio and converted it to black-and-white

*And, well, vintage footage

Death Hunt.

Review #2423: Death Hunt.

Cast: 

Charles Bronson (Albert Johnson), Lee Marvin (Sergeant Edgar Millen), Andrew Stevens (Constable Alvin Adams), Carl Weathers (George Washington Lincoln "Sundog" Brown), Ed Lauter (Hazel), Scott Hylands (Captain Hank Tucker), Angie Dickinson (Vanessa McBride), Henry Beckman (Bill Luce), William Sanderson (Ned Warren), Jon Cedar (Constable Hawkins), and James O'Connell (Hurley) Directed by Peter R. Hunt (#279 - On Her Majesty's Secret Service)

Review: 

In 1931, there was quite a ruckus with a man of unknown origin that had arrived in the northern parts of Canda. He wasn't a licensed trapper, but people thought he was a fishy type. A visit from constables eventually resulted in one being shot and a posse being formed that came with dynamite for his cabin. In January of 1932, the posse surrounded him, and Johnson killed a constable (actually named Edgar Millen). The posse grew and grew as Johnson, not being able to just leave for the Yukon without being blocked, simply climbed a 7,000 ft peak. The Mounties responded by hiring Wilfrid "Wop" May to scout the area with a monoplane that tracked him pretty well and on February 17, 1932 at the Eagle River, the constables confronted and shot Johnson dead. It may interest you to know that several photos of Johnson's corpse were taken because of the curiosity in trying to figure out who Johnson really was, but nobody truly knows when he was even born. There had been movies based on the tale of Johnson, such as The Map Trapper (1972, TV) and Challenge to Be Free (1975), but here we have a movie made with the efforts of Hong Kong-based company Golden Harvest that was sold to 20th Century Fox (it was once to be called "Arctic Rampage"). This was the fifth feature film by Hunt as director (as Robert Aldrich was ditched by the filmmakers) who you might remember as the guy who directed On Her Majesty's Secret Service, probably the best Bond movie of, well, the period of 1969-1987*; he previously directed Marvin in Shout at the Devil (1976). This was written by Michael Grais and Mark Victor, who had one hell of a rebound with their next writing assignment: they co-wrote 1982's Poltergeist. Even was the film was being released, the producers and Marvin were already going with the "it's not a documentary" thing. Even with a budget reported to being around $10 million, the movie was not a major success at the time of release.

Eh, it's a decent little adventure when your expectations of its 97-minute runtime is a good ol' time with familiar people and a relatively casual approach to respect for one's counterpart. Sure, it isn't anybody's idea of a history lesson (there are other stories that have been treated worse). Sure, it is incredibly familiar if you think about any character that has their actions get misconstrued (so yes, it would make an interesting double feature with First Blood [1982]). And yet it is the kind of movie you either are all the way in for a nice time with familiar enjoyment in seeing Marvin and Bronson face off in a neat battle of steel-willed people in a changing time. The landscapes may be nice to view but things can change in the blink of an eye for even the most determined lone wolf, I suppose. There is beauty to be found in the wilderness but there also can be plenty of desolate isolation. In that regard, Bronson makes the obvious choice to play the lead focus for a movie that decides to find curiosity in a lone wolf that you can only gleam the surface of someone forced to action rather than just a straight killer. Marvin merely is a burnt-out guy thrust into an unenviable situation: wise-ass constables and wise-ass tag-alongs on, well, a "death hunt". All he knows in his landscape is that keeping headquarters happy is the goal more than combating every single crime possible and Marvin plays it with the usual wiry charm that I can appreciate. Weathers is his usual charming self even in a cursory supporting role while Stevens makes a fine match in seeing that young Mountie idealism meet the real world and Lauter makes a solid adversarial presence. Others come and go, whether that is Beckman and his odd nature or a not-exactly important Dickinson, but the movie balances its action with a worthwhile look at two people who would rather be anywhere else in the wilderness than being forced to take the other down. Rugged, violent and altogether a movie fit for a bored night looking for familiar faces, my kind of average movie. As a whole, it probably won't rank highly among the people that starred in it or its director, but it is an enjoyable feature for those who like familiar adventures that are committed to having a good Western time.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

*Seriously, go watch On Her Majesty's Secret Service. I have watched it annually on December 18 for the past few years.

Mommie Dearest.

Review #2245: Mommie Dearest.

Cast: 

Faye Dunaway (Joan Crawford), Diana Scarwid & Mara Hobel (Christina Crawford), Steve Forrest (Gregg Savitt), Howard da Silva (Louis B. Mayer), Rutanya Alda (Carol Ann), Harry Goz (Alfred Steele), Michael Edwards (Ted Gelber), Jocelyn Brando (Barbara Bennett), Priscilla Pointer (Margaret Lee Chadwick), and Selma Archerd (Connie) Directed by Frank Perry (#1957 - David and Lisa)

Review: 

In 1978, Christina Crawford wrote a book about her upbringing (as an adopted daughter) at the hands of legendary actress Joan Crawford, who adopted Christina after her birth in 1939. She stated that her mother had valued her career more so than her family life, complete with having Christina call various men that she happened to see "Uncle". When Joan died in 1977, she left Christina (and her adopted brother) out of the will for "reasons which are well known to them." Various people around Crawford had their own thoughts about the allegations of abuse leveled by Christina, which included two of her (adopted) siblings, who sued her because she claimed that Cathy and Cynthia were not biological sisters or adopted legally. The actual life of Joan Crawford probably could have made its own miniseries even without the aforementioned book. Crawford (born Lucille Fay LeSueur) had a dubious childhood (involving a stepfather accused of embezzlement). At any rate, she went from dancing in the chorus of revues to the Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer days (of nearly two decades). The San Antonio native was quoted as working hard to practice her dictation, complete with repeating a word fifteen times to get it correct for ones she had not known to pronounce. She actually adopted five children (three girls), with one of them being returned back to the family on their request. The furor of the book led to film rights being sold to Paramount, as one would expect. Robert Getchell was hired in to write the screenplay (Crawford had done a script but it wasn't used) before Tracy Hotchner and Frank Yablans (who produced the film) were brought into re-write the script before the bringing in of Frank Perry to direct (and deliver re-writes for the only writing credit he ever received on a film) as opposed to the original intent of Franco Zeffirelli to direct Anne Bancroft. At any rate, the film only focuses on two of the four children raised by Crawford (Christina, Christopher, Cathy, Cynthia). Incidentally, Christina has been on record as not being a fan of the film, although she noted once (while promoting her one-woman show "A Conversation with Christina Crawford: Live and Onstage in Surviving Mommie Dearest") that there was a certain amount of folks who seemed to enjoy the film as a melodrama that "lost a sense of reality." The movie was not exactly loved by critics, but audiences apparently were fine with the film to where Paramount Pictures actually marketed it as an unintentional comedy (“Faye Dunaway in Mommie Dearest—the biggest mother of them all.”) midway through release. Perry, who had directed eleven films prior to this one, directed just three further features (one of those in Monsignor (1982), is apparently worse) prior to being diagnosed with prostate cancer that led to his death at the age of 65 in 1995.

In its sympathy for the devil, one sees a great contradiction with this film. It jumps around in its selection of what it believes would make an interesting biopic. Its attempts at showing the conflict of a person who tried to be a regal and "always on" movie star but also a dear mother that expected the most from the children she chose to adopt. You have a method actress at the height of their career (coming off an Academy Award win a few years prior) who had to contort the muscles around their mouth and hold it so one could see the resemblance to Crawford who seemed to believe that when back home she could feel Crawford in her presence. People either see the film as unintentionally amusing or disturbing, but all I see is a very average experience that has one domineering performance and obvious pacing problems. I think of it as "The Rocky Horror Picture Show effect", where the hype about it being a cult favorite leads to a really average viewing experience. The movie around Dunaway never really gets going because, well, imagine making a movie where you don't think about Christina Crawford a fraction of the time that you see (and hear) Dunaway chew the scenery. I think there is something quite compelling about what you might as well call the Faye Dunaway Experience that might make you want to see it. Yes, stuff such as the "wire hanger" sequences probably don't lend favors to Dunaway in the long run, but I think there is something really worthwhile in seeing Dunaway basically morph into Crawford in spirit. Dunaway apparently blamed Perry in not apparently having the experience (incidentally, Perry had directed eleven films prior to this) to assess when an actor should rein in their performance. The enjoyment of the film is in how much you care for that performance above else, because Scarwid and Hobel basically get swept up as dominos to be moved around as if all that matters is to see a family monster more than, well an actual story moving from A to B (you don't even get to see the screen Crawford die on screen, she just passes and boop, that's that). One kind of would like to have seen more from Forrest, who seems bemused to be in the film (incidentally, he plays a person that didn't exist in real life). Biopic or no biopic, I think a point-by-point movie about Crawford in all the facets of a career (the hard work and the domineering personality) would have been a better flick than this. Sure, you could call that "cliched", but it probably would've tried to reach a level of "honest" that this film never really reaches. The 129-minute runtime lumbers with some of the ambition required but not nearly enough in actual depth. Sure, some of the film is amusing because of the sheer audacity in dialogue. If the film was compelling in drama, maybe one would take interest in seeing what gets played out in the "historical record", but instead of harrowing edge, it comes off as exaggerated in a way that is hollow; in short: it isn't as funny as one thinks from a so-called "camp favorite" and it isn't as moving as it surely wishes to be. As a whole, I really wish the film was better. It yearns to be taken seriously as a work about the toils of trying to be both a consistent star in the classic studio system and simultaneously trying to mold her children in her image. Instead, it became a film misunderstood by ones willing to criticize it or think of it as some sort of goofy trash. 

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

About (fucking) time: the NC-17 rated Showgirls up next.

Wolfen.

Review #1902: Wolfen.

Cast: 

Albert Finney (Detective Dewey Wilson), Diane Venora (Detective Rebecca Neff), Edward James Olmos (Eddie Holt), Gregory Hines (Coroner Whittington), Tom Noonan (Ferguson), Dick O'Neill (Captain Warren), Dehl Berti (Old Indian), Peter Michael Goetz (Ross), Reginald VelJohnson (Morgue Attendant), James Tolkan ("Baldy", The Medical Examiner), and Donald Symington (Lawyer) Directed by Michael Wadleigh.

Review: 

Sure, it is possible that there is no real big link between a film like this and ones such as The Howling (1981) and An American Werewolf in London (1981). But it is fun to talk about the one thing they do have in common: each are horror movies with killer wolves, with The Howling being released in March before Wolfen was released in July and American Werewolf in London was released in August. Wolfen was the least successful with audiences among the three, not making its $17 million budget back. The movie is an adaptation of The Wolfen, a 1978 novel by Whitley Strieber (a writer of thriller novels and a "non-fiction" book about being abducted...by non-human entities). David M. Eyre, Jr. and Michael Wadleigh were credited for both the screenplay and story while Eric Roth provided un-credited work. Apparently, the book and film share distinct differences, as the book had cops become the opening victims rather than a land developer (with wife and bodyguard in tow) and the climax is also different in how the lead characters handle the Wolfen. The film began shooting in 1979 for a targeted release in the fall of 1980, but delays would arise between Orion Pictures (the production company behind the film, which was distributed by Warner Bros.) and Wadleigh. It got to the point where the Directors Guild of America had a three-week hearing involving the rights of the director, who apparently had a first cut of four hours while complaining of having no budget reported to him (at least he was granted his choice of star with Finney, since Dustin Hoffman pestered him to try and get the role to no avail). The next cut was two hours and 29 minutes, but then the producers made an agreement to let Wadleigh shoot the remainder of things needed to be filmed before Richard Chew was sent to cut the film after Wadleigh was done and let go (John D. Hancock was sent to supervise the ADR sessions). This is how you get a final version of one hour and 54 minutes. This was the feature film debut of Wadleigh, who is best known for his work in documenting the 1969 Woodstock Music Festival, for which he and his crew shot for a documentary that was released in 1970 to great success. At any rate, this is the only non-documentary that Wadleigh has ever shot.

You can tell that this is a movie written to feel four hours long that got hacked into something that is a procedural movie with flashes of horror that ends up with varying results. Man, do I wish that I enjoyed this film more than I did, because honestly, it pales when compared to the aforementioned other wolf films. For one, this film isn't a "werewolf film", because the wolves here are a spirit that may or may not be gods, ones that have walked the Earth for many, many, many years, as explained by a group of Native Americans that exists to defend their territory. So, yes, there isn't a werewolf transformation here, since the concern is really more about looking at urban decay and procedure, since one is trying to guess how folks are being terrorized by something that severs certain body parts without just thinking it is terrorism, complete with nice shots of New York (such as the South Bronx). A good chunk of this is actually fairly interesting (having a thermographic visual for the Wolfen perspective is one), but at a certain point you really are just waiting for them to stop window-dressing and get to the point. Yes, it does keep itself in the realm of seriousness without ridicule, but it only marginally has the element of shock to keep things going. Sometimes you have to cut the cord, and I think this means that we have a film that is watchable but quite average. I think the cast is assembled nicely, because Finney does make a quality leader. He keeps a shaky but composted attitude about what goes on without making it look like it is beneath him. Venora was actually making her film debut with this film after graduating from Juilliard School and stage plays. She does okay here, quiet but serviceable in the procedural element...the chemistry between not so much, but it isn't too corny. Olmos practically chews on the camera in brooding charm, which proves quite compelling. Tap dancer-turned-actor Hines provides a bit of levity to the surroundings as well, making a useful rapport with Finney in minimal moments. Noonan is offbeat and quite watchable in little moments as well, while O'Neill plays the cop beat about how you would expect. I really did want to like the film more, because there is something to brood over with the idea of nature vs. greed, but I think the pacing is a bit uneven to hold things together enough to really make capable thrills. This isn't to say that I wanted an effects show, because the movie does do fine with the perspective shots alongside ones with wolves, but I think a little more "oomph" is required here to make it less like a procedural that just happened to break out into horror, particularly with a low-key ending (again, one that plays to the allure of what is allowed to lurk in the shadows rather than the book's idea about things) - decent for the film's mood but also just okay. I wonder how this would have worked as a four-hour cut or as a miniseries, where you can play out all of the things you want in trying to do a Bronx tale of people getting cut down by wolves that have humans as their prey. In fact, if you want to play semantics about better procedurals, Q, released the following year involving a winged serpent, handled its balance of procedural and creature elements with more reverence than this film (schlock or not, some things work better to others). At any rate, Wolfen is a decent film sandwiched in between other, better, movies involving creatures of the night, which may work out quite well for those who are interested in curiosity pieces among the years of horror.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

The Loveless.

Review #1820: The Loveless.

Cast: 

Willem Dafoe (Vance), Marin Kanter (Telena), Robert Gordon (Davis), J. Don Ferguson (Tarver), Tina L'Hotsky (Sportster Debbie), Lawrence Matarese, and Danny Rosen (Ricky). Written and Directed by Kathryn Bigelow (#1258 - K-19: The Widowmaker and #1548 - The Hurt Locker) and Monty Montgomery.

Review: 

"I guess if I had to single out a theme for what I've been up to, I'd say it's some sort of journey to explore film's potential to be kinetic. This probably started unconsciously, but it's there in one way or another in all my movies. I'm always trying to squeeze the most energy out of the frame."

Yes, this is a directing duo each making their first ever film, but we both know that Kathryn Bigelow is the drawing presence when it comes to examining a director in the first stages of a dutiful career, particularly with the way that her career has moved in the past four decades. Before she became a filmmaker, the California native studied painting at the San Francisco Art Institute and film scholarship/criticism at Columbia University, and it was in the latter place that she met Monty Montgomery (incidentally, he would later co-produce Wild at Heart, which featured Dafoe). Bigelow's first film was a short called The Set-Up, which dealt with two men beating each other up while two professors deconstruct it. Through resources of the Museum of Modern Art's Film Study Center and a small town in Georgia, the movie was shot in 25 days. The original titles for the film were "U.S. 17" before "Breakdown" (as shown on the festival circuit in 1981), and then the final title (upon its premiere in New York in 1984). Probably the easiest comparison one could make is The Wild One (1953), since that film also features a small town that encounters a motorcycle gang with a charismatic lead, although you might see traces of an imitation of an American International Pictures film (like The Wild Angels). As such, the movie has arthouse sensibilities with touches that make it set around the late 1950s/1960. 

Well, there is a distinct outlier in the cast: This was the first starring role for Dafoe (a founder of the experimental theater group in The Wooster Group and someone briefly seen in Heaven's Gate the previous year). Gordon is actually more known for his neo-rockabilly singing, and he is responsible for the music in the film. Ferguson was a thirty-year actor with a handful of character roles while also being a NCAA Basketball Tournament referee for a number of years. This was the first of four Kanter roles, and L'Hotsky was a Downtown New York personality. It might not be a surprise that this film was not a particular success among the independent circuit (to the point where one can see three different release years for this film depending on the premiere from 1981 to 1984). It certainly won't be the ideal feature for everyone, because it is more of an art feature with brooding and quiet glances than anything, where action is only what you can speculate to be action, complete with select voiceovers for a film that has some presentation of "who are the real outlaws" or something. In short: the movie proves just fine, if only because its curiosity factor manages to override the decaying sense of patience one could have if they don't find the retro feel to their liking (besides, the attempt at retro hasn't exactly gone away, but Bigelow has clearly found her distinct edges in action). Dafoe is undoubtedly the highlight, if only because one can see the potential there with such a brooding actor that is distinct from the very second you see him in the opening, having a volatile presence that seeps into scenes in all the right senses that makes the movie better than it should be. Of course, the others aren't too far behind. Kanter has a vulnerable presence that invites curiosity within minimal choice words, one that lingers with Dafoe for the moments on screen together with apt patience. Gordon and the other members of the biker group aren't exactly packed with many words, but they fit the casual nature required from this pastiche requirement. Ferguson does just fine with slimy qualities that stoke a necessary chill that seems unstrapped by time. It can be a breezy or slow 85-minute stroll when it comes to this film, but I found it inviting enough in the small lunges one sees from a biker movie that has the promise of improvement for its director (not Montgomery, who shifted to producing). As such, it might not be the easiest recommendation, but if one wants to see an early showcase for both Bigelow and Dafoe with a quiet brooding experience of being on the road, you probably won't go wrong there.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: The Decline of Western Civilization Part II: The Metal Years (1988).

Inchon.

Review #1763: Inchon.

Cast: 

Laurence Olivier (General Douglas MacArthur), Jacqueline Bisset (Barbara Hallsworth), Ben Gazzara (Major Frank Hallsworth), Toshiro Mifune (Saito), Richard Roundtree (Sergeant Augustus Henderson), David Janssen (David Feld), Namkoong Won (Park), Karen Kahn (Lim), and Rex Reed (Longfellow) Directed by Terence Young (#150 - Dr. No, #278 - From Russia with Love, and #335 - Thunderball)

Review: 

In a way, sometimes a movie gets a reputation because of production troubles or bad word-of-mouth (traditional movies, anyway, although ones outside the mainstream can get through that regardless). Inchon was a perfect storm that has never managed to live down its infamy in the four decades that have passed since it was released. The movie is based on the events that occurred during the Battle of Inchon in South Korea, which occurred from September 10-19, 1950 (the city is referred to today as Incheon, as the country changed their Romanization system for names in 2000), with the amphibious assault being led by Douglas MacArthur, Commander in Chief of United Nations Forces; the battle is considered a key point of the Korean War. MacArthur had been the subject of one previous feature with a biopic that was released four years prior that was directed by Joseph Sargent that had Gregory Peck as the general; the next film to detail the battle wouldn't occur for three decades in Operation Chromite (2016). Of course, the sticking point for a film like this is one that doesn't tie to its international cast or its noted director. Instead, it ties down to five words: Special advisor Sun Myung Moon. Well, since this is a movie review, we can't exactly talk about Moon beyond a few short sentences: For one, he was an anti-communist Korean that formed the Unification Church in 1954, and he later proclaimed himself as a Messiah that stoked plenty of followers and just as many critics (he also was a businessman that dealt in news media, such as with The Washington Times), particularly with his conviction for filling false federal income tax returns and conspiracy in 1984. Perhaps it was an act of God that brought all of these circumstances together to make a uniquely amusing time, since the press kit for the film actually claimed that McArthur approved of his portrayal...from the spirit world, as he had died a decade prior. Of course, the other choices that Moon thought about making a movie about involved Jesus and Elvis Presley (all of this is actually correct, I am not joking). Of course, one can't forget about Terence Young in all of this. Sure, this was the second-to-last film in his forty year career, but Young was at the very least a director who in theory could have executed a well done war film, at least since he could handle three James Bond features to worthy reputation, particularly since he was familiar with international co-productions such as Red Sun (1971). Of course, he also stated that Moon putting his name on the credits of the film would be a mistake (along with the Church's idea to actually distribute the film itself, and they settled with fronting the promotional material), and the film ended up having to be shot in both Korea and Rome. The movie was written by Robin Moore and Laird Koenig, while the story was done by Moore and Paul Savage. Moore was known for his writings such as The Green Berets and The French Connection, but he chafed at the demands for a war story that also had to have numerous narratives within a story that probably was too much to handle in a two hour feature.

Technically speaking, this might be a prescient feature in terms of church-funded mega-failures in the vein of Battlefield Earth (2000), but there is a quick distinction between those films: One can actually see that movie on home video. Inchon has never been released on DVD, and the only reason that anyone can even find footage of the film to view (in dubious quality) is because the movie was shown on the Church's former television network (GoodLife Television Network), for which people transferred it onto VHS for bootleg recordings. The original cut of the film was 140 minutes, and this is the version that was shown on television, albeit with certain swear words edited out, but it should be mentioned that the film shown in theaters was only 106 minutes long, which cut out scenes with David Janssen (best known for The Fugitive, who took the movie to work with Olivier), who had died before release.  I'm sure you don't need to know that this is a dramatization of the battle and not actually based entirely in reality, since lighthouses generally do not serve as the be-all end-all to war victories. Besides, the movie can't even have one consistent narrative, since it also has to balance out its parts with MacArthur for scenes spent with Gazzara & Bisset, which manages to mangle any attempt at perspective beyond boredom (at least when it isn't spending time with a barely hearable Janssen and a "no, I'm not joking" Reed for exposition). Somehow, having Roundtree and Mifune as supporting members doesn't help. Gazzara and Bisset seem more bored than anything when it comes to some spiel about romance or rescuing others from danger. At least one can say Olivier tried. At this point in his life, he was taking film roles for money, and this was certainly one of those roles, since he described himself as like a vintage wine that needs to be drank quickly before becoming sour (he wanted to leave enough money for his family); while he was ill for the last decade of his life, he still marched on as an actor without complaint. He did his research when it came to visiting the MacArthur Museum and even visiting a prominent member that had served under the general during the war while also trying to imitate his voice (which apparently sounded like W. C. Fields) and go through plenty of makeup, although he stated that he didn't think he looked like MacArthur or even himself. The clip at the end of the real MacArthur speaking does not exactly help matters; in the end, he moves like a pale ghost and yet manages to be the only presence worth trying to watch, and it isn't even a good performance. The movie has the attitude of trying to be a spectacle epic with dramatic weight, but it has the striking power of a B-movie, pure and simple. It plods along for way too long with narratives far too boring for anybody to care about while having the spiritual depth of a two-inch fountain. If one is going to watch a war movie that borders on propaganda, by God could they do better than this feature when it comes to actual relevance for showing a useful story. You might as well spend an hor looking for articles on the Internet about Incheon than spend two hours with this dramatization. It is an obvious turkey that is best suited for testing if hearing explosions will interrupt two hours of snoozing; it might not be the worst war film or worst of anything (since the Church aspect probably makes this an easy target), but it sure is one for the ages in terms of turkey-dom.

Overall, I give it 2 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: Sometimes, the best way to look at an action star is to look at what happens when they are put into the director's chair. So it's time for On Deadly Ground.

The Howling.

Review #1744: The Howling.

Cast: 

Dee Wallace (Karen White), Patrick Macnee (Dr. George Waggner), Dennis Dugan (Chris Halloran), Christopher Stone (R. William "Bill" Neill), Belinda Balaski (Terri Fisher), Kevin McCarthy (Fred Francis), John Carradine (Erle Kenton), Slim Pickens (Sam Newfield), Elisabeth Brooks (Marsha Quist), Robert Picardo (Eddie Quist), Margie Impert (Donna), Noble Willingham (Charlie Barton), James Murtaugh (Jerry Warren), Jim McKrell (Lew Landers), Kenneth Tobey (Older Cop), and Dick Miller (Walter Paisley) Directed by Joe Dante (#007 - Looney Tunes: Back in Action, #096 - Gremlins, #097 - Small Soldiers, #1494 - Gremlins 2: The New Batch)

Review: 

"We have a fondness for this kind of thing. They're our fairy tales. The trick, then as now, is to try to find a way to connect this material to people who are younger and don't have a background in the classics."

As the saying goes, everyone is entitled to one good scare. And as it turns out, there was plenty of room to expand on the legend of the werewolf, mostly because there had been quite a lull in meaningful story-telling since the most prominent wolf film came with The Wolf Man (1941). Of course, there had been a handful of werewolf films in the subsequent four decades, such as 1957's I Was a Teenage Werewolf (released by American International Pictures, an inspiration for filmmakers like Dante), but the 1980s seemed like the best time to let loose with a beastly tale for the times. 1981 ended having three major horror features with werewolves as the subjects for general release: The Howling (released in March), Wolfen (released in July), and An American Werewolf in London (released in August); while An American Werewolf in London was the most successful of the group, this film has managed to endure just as much in its own perspective on the werewolf that has worthy effects and cast to work well four decades after its release. To start with, this film is an adaptation of the novel of the same name by Gary Brandner, released in 1977 (the first of three in the series). However, production of the film resulted in various scripts and directors going through to the point where it became a loose adaptation, complete with Jack Conrad being replaced by Joe Dante while Terence H. Winkless was replaced as script-writer for John Sayles (who had worked with Dante on Piranha in 1978); a cursory glance of the source material notes similarities within stark differences: the circumstances of the opening attack (and occupation) are altered, alongside the fact that the setting was a town as opposed to a patient resort (complete with a certain connection); lastly, while both end with two characters getting out of the town, each have different ways of inducing an open ending (in other words, the last line is both a gag and bait). Strangely enough, Brandner would co-write the screenplay to Howling II: Your Sister Is a Werewolf (1985), the first of seven sequels to this film, which had loose continuities with each other that resulted in two theatrical releases and the rest direct-to-video (perhaps it was irony that this happened at all, since Dante apparently stated in a Q&A that he disliked the book...with Brandner in the audience). 

A movie with character presences like McCarthy, Carradine, AND Pickens? Shoot, sign me up for 91 minutes. Sure, the in-joke references added by Dante to stuff like previous horror films (or naming characters after horror directors) or with certain wolf names is fine, but the curiosity will vary depending on one's taste, much in the same way one wonders just what a werewolf desires from humans: cattle or prey. Of course, it really is about what it means to deal with one's animalistic desires in the guise of a werewolf movie that actually plays like a slasher for a significant amount of time (as devised by Dante, who wanted to bring in the supernatural elements slowly); having a protagonist that isn't a werewolf probably helps in freshening up the expectations, too. Wallace does fine in balancing the long and winding road that comes with seeing weirdos at every turn, whether that means "self-help" folks or lingering nightmares of reality, which she sells better in its second half. Macnee pops in from time to time with his take on dignified quackery that seems pretty relevant now when it comes to the line of what is the best way to spend time with desires of animals. Dugan does okay with a cursory role (one that in an older movie perhaps would have had him as the lead focus), at least until the climax anyway; Balaski is also fine, but anyone that can handle terror with wolves like a champ is worthy in my book. Honestly, it is the supporting folks that seem to generate more curiosity (although Stone and his stoic timing, wolf or not, is close), which comes out best with the ever-casual Pickens or the spry nut in Carradine, while Brooks captivates well in presence (without saying much) and Picardo makes a worthy adversary in looming creepiness. 

Rob Bottin was responsible for the werewolf transformation scenes (which involved humanoid creatures rather than the desire of the studio to use "large wolves", as quoted by Dante). If you remember, there was also another werewolf film in 1981 with An American Werewolf in London, and the effects man for that was Rick Baker, who had decided to help with the effects for this film as a consultant and designer (since London had been stuck in pre-development for nearly a decade); when the other film actually did start to ramp into being made, Baker left to do that film (while giving advice to Bottin). The effect involved air bladders (as suggested by Dick Smith), animatronics, and spirit gum that had the actor in the chair (Picardo) being there for ten hours (of course, there were also parts that had to be done with animation and stop motion, although it isn't as lengthy is usage); Bottin also helped to supervise the way his effects would be shot and lit, for what its worth. While Baker would end up being the winner of the first Academy Award for Best Makeup (while Bottin didn't even get a nomination, which instead went to Stan Winston for Heartbeeps), one can certainly appreciate each effects man for what they managed to do with making their mark count in conviction when it comes to matching the mood of what is required from each transformation: one that looks painful and one that looks prideful. As a whole, I admire the way the film handles the werewolf legend with atmosphere that lends attention for terror and satirical fun that makes for a worthy curiosity as one of the most curious horror features to come out in the 1980s. No matter which werewolf film of 1981 was better than the other, the important part to remember is that each one served as a worthy crawl in horror that weaved their own perspective on the creature with distinct effects that only seem to look better and better after four decades with conviction all the way around for the season.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

The Decline of Western Civilization.

Review #1657: The Decline of Western Civilization.

Cast: 

Featuring the bands Black Flag [Ron Reyes, Robo, Chuck Dukowski, Greg Ginn], Germs [Darby Crash, Pat Smear, Lorna Doom, Don Bolles], Catholic Discipline [Claude Bessy, Robert Lopez, Phranc, Craig Lee, Rick Brodey], X [John Doe, Exene Cervenka, Billy Zoom, D.J. Bonebrake], Circle Jerks [Keith Morris, Roger Rogerson, Lucky Lehrer, Greg Hetson], Alice Bag Band [Alice Bag, Terry Graham, Rob Ritter, Craig Lee], and Fear [Lee Ving, Spit Stix, Derf Scratch, Philo Cramer], with Brendan Mullen, Bob Biggs, Philomena Whinstanley, Chris D, and Wayne Mayotte. Produced and Directed by Penelope Spheeris (#238 - The Little Rascals, #806 - Wayne's World, #1019 - Dudes)

Review: 

“You get to a certain age and you go, ‘OK, what is my identity?’ My identity is The Decline of Western Civilization. It’s not Wayne’s World or any of those other movies I did.”

Penelope Spheeris managed to hone her interests in music and film into an interesting career that spanned three decades and attracted attention for what she did with her vision of filmmaking. Spheeris was the daughter of a carnival operator, who would move the family across Louisiana through the South, but her father's death in a dispute (the elder Spheeris saw someone being beaten with a cane but was shot when defending them). Subsequently, she would live with her mother in California within trailer parks, and she would use music to (as she once put it) “get my head out of the bummer that my life was", although cinema would also prove an escape as well. She studied art at California State University (Long Beach) before being influenced to change course and study psychobiology at the University of California, Irvine. Hearing about a film school in the University of California in Los Angeles, she decided to change schools again, for which she would use money earned from work as a waitress to put herself through UCLA Film School; she would start making her first shorts in 1968 while graduating from the school with a major in film in the 1970s. She formed the first company dedicated to filming music videos in the city of Los Angeles in 1974 with Rock 'n Reel. Spheeris made her first effort in the film industry through serving as producer of the first film done by Albert Brooks with Real Life (1979). She had first connected with Brooks through serving as producer for some short subjects that featured him as director/writer/star, which were featured through the first season of Saturday Night Live (1975-76). Ultimately, Spheeris has directed eleven feature films and seven documentaries through a career of music and comedies, with mixed results in audiences and with time spent with the studio system. When it comes to this film, it makes sense that Spheeris would cross music within the world of filmmaking. While visting clubs around southern California like Club 88, she found interest in the burgeoning wave of punk music enough to want to document it because of what she found so interesting - she found her reason was the same for the metal scene, in that one could express frustration and anger at the same time with it. This would be the first of three films that Spheeris would do involving the music scene in Los Angeles: Part II: The Metal Years (1988) featured the heavy metal scene with a mix of noted artists in the genre like Ozzy Osbourne and others such as W.A.S.P., while Part III (1998) involved the punks living in poverty (predictably, the latter was less popular with distributors, who would only want to release if it Spheeris gave up the rights to the first two films) - an ironic title became a self-fulfilling prophetic trilogy (incidentally, the success of the second film would lead to the offer to direct Wayne's World (1992), which proved a blessing a curse in terms of putting her into the mainstream). It was only in 2015 that one could see the films on media besides VHS, owing to Spheeris' reluctance to revisit her films, until she was spurred to by her daughter.

The film was shot over the course of six months from December 1979 to May 1980. Four decades have passed since its release, but one certainly can see how prescient the film has been in terms of its visceral insight into what makes music and its fans tick - this balance of time could even have been seen from the time it was released in 1981. By that point, Darby Clash (who is featured on the cover as lead singer of the Germs) had died, three of the bands had already disbanded (Bags, Catholic Discipline, and Germs - although the latter would reunite decades later), while others would persist on with their own levels of varying influence such as Black Flag, Circle Jerks, Fear, and X (who, I truthfully admit I know for exactly one song, which was their cover of "Wild Thing" for one of my favorite baseball movies, Major League). Obviously, folks in the scene liked what they saw - one premiere showing attracted hundreds of punks that led to a raucous display with police and a letter to Spheeris to never show it in the city again - that city was Los Angeles. If Spheeris had to be remembered for just one film, this film most certainly serves as a crowning achievement to talk about, particularly in its portrayal of a time and place that has never looked so far from our memory and yet still seem so relevant now. It is a chaotic affair, featuring the hectic lives and philosophies (in some way) of seven bands alongside shots of the folks around the emotions expressed in those loud moments spent in the lights (there also are a few moments spent within the perspective of Slash, a fanzine dedicated to punk that ran from 1977-1980 that Bob Biggs developed alongside Slash Records to specialize in punk rock). Some of the folks stand out more so than others, moving from point to point with moments that start with living in an abandoned church and sleeping in tight spaces or a candid conversation with Crash that plays in contrast to the wild persona on stage, or Bussy and his distinct rebel voice as a journalist/singer, or even folks playing guitar like Zoom (with his wide-leg stance and grin). By the time one closes with Fear and their confrontational style with the audience (complete with storming the stage), one has fully absorbed all the chaos with satisfaction. When it comes to having a good time with nihilism and a punk spirit that never reaches hagiography or seems too distant for anyone with good sense to check into; it is a music movie that to put it mildly doesn't give a fuck what one thinks, a punk winner for those who embrace the chaos.

Next Time: Daughters of the Dust (1991)

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

An American Werewolf in London.

Review #1465: An American Werewolf in London.

Cast: 

David Naughton (David Kessler), Jenny Agutter (Nurse Alex Price), Griffin Dunne (Jack Goodman), John Woodvine (Dr J. S. Hirsch), Don McKillop (Inspector Villiers), Brian Glover (Chess Player), David Schofield (Dart Player), and Lila Kaye (Barmaid) Written and Directed by John Landis (#328 - Trading Places, #410 - Coming to America, #513 - Spies Like Us, #1114 - Animal House, and #1462 - The Blues Brothers)

Review: 

"What no one understands, ideas are a dime a dozen. An idea has no real value. It's all about the execution of the idea."

"The thing that I find so fulfilling about my job is I like the fact that you start with something that's just an idea in your head. You read the script and right away you visualize something and you see that thing that at one point was just an idea in your head looking real and alive. It's exciting and is a little bit like being Dr. Frankenstein. I want to scream "It's alive!"

John Landis was a tremendous showman director for his time, one that generally knew how to reach his audience with humor for a career that started with such modesty. He was inspired to be involved in films from a young age, citing The 7th Voyage of Sinbad (1958) as a key influence. He subsequently worked his way up in film production, starting as a mailboy before taking other parts such as stunt double and dialogue coach. After getting the chance to be an assistant director for Kelly's Heroes (1970), he found inspiration for what would become this film from a chance viewing of a gypsy ritual (while in Yugoslavia) being done in a burial in which they tried to make sure the body wouldn't rise from the grave). At the age of 21, he began production on his first directorial effort in Schlock, which was released two years later in 1973 with him in the title role alongside writer-director. It was his first work with a young makeup artist in Rick Baker. Baker was in his third ever assignment in film with makeup, having started his career with costume work on Octaman (1971). The highlight of the film was done from Baker, who became the first winner of an Academy Award for Best Makeup (several people had been given honorary awards for effects in the past before a formal category was created), and he would win six more in a career that has spanned over four decades.

The film languished for a decade because of the perception that it was either too scary to be comedy or too funny to be a horror film, with Landis stating that "People keep calling it a comedy, it's very funny I hope, but it is a horror film." It is a fairly morbid film at times, taking inspiration from the classic Universal horror films with clear interest in making a London film with atmosphere, complete with plenty of moon songs that set the film well (or whatever one feels about the choice of "Blue Moon" after a swift finale) that makes a well-earned classic for the night as one of the higher-achieving werewolf films. Landis stages a fine film well, and Baker makes it all worthwhile with the special effects utilized to depict the werewolf that proved to be a tremendous highlight for practical effects in a decade fitting for it, even if it took plenty of makeup and time to make it all come out right (the transformation scene took nearly a week to finish due to all the time spent on getting the makeup on and off), utilizing its real and unreal elements such as fake patch of skin and hair and robotics to make for an iconic moment for effects.

One watches the film to see the transformation sequence come out in the midst of a 97 minute film with care to build its creeping humor in its look upon the wolf of the night and the curse of the undead that come from it. In this case, our main trio is fair game to go with that horror challenge. Naughton (picked because of his four year work with Dr Pepper and their "Be a Pepper" ad campaign by Landis) does a fine job with being our person of interest, a take on the anguished man in despair over potentially being a wolf and a killer, approaching the material with care and fine timing without needing being overshadowed completely by effects or gags. Agutter (known for her television and film work in Britain and abroad) makes a sensible pairing to all the fuss, calm but attentive to the last. Dunne proves amusing while spending a good deal of time on screen in makeup, which makes him a charmer to see on screen with Naughton, such as with the scene in the theater confronting what to do about trying to end the curse (and the methods one could do it with, suggested by the several dead folk). On the whole, the film builds itself fine with playing with the horror genre with some creepy imagery and useful makeup and effects, and while it could've had a stronger climax, it ultimately does prove worth it in the long run, a casual classic worth a watch for those who appreciate craftsmanship done the natural way and those looking for a chill.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Chariots of Fire.

Review #1464: Chariots of Fire.

Cast:
Ben Cross (Harold Abrahams), Ian Charleson (Eric Liddell), Nicholas Farrell (Aubrey Montague), Nigel Havers (Lord Andrew Lindsay), Ian Holm (Sam Mussabini), John Gielgud (Master of Trinity College), Lindsay Anderson (Master of Caius College), Cheryl Campbell (Jennie Liddell), Alice Krige (Sybil Gordon), Struan Rodger (Sandy McGrath), Nigel Davenport (Lord Birkenhead), and Patrick Magee (Lord Cadogan) Directed by Hugh Hudson.

Review: 
"The artist is a credulous animal. He is often a dreamer. And if he finds someone who appears to share his dream, or, even better, someone with the means to realize that dream, then that artist tends to believe in Santa Claus."

Sometimes you just need a film about the will to win. I suppose if anyone had to try and make a sports film about the triumph of victory with perseverance and faith, it might as well be one from the British about something historical. Whether that makes for a true classic or not is up to the viewer, who no doubt will have heard that one tune from Vangelis that starts the film up, one that is inspirational and all the jazz. This was a co-production between Warner Brothers and 20th Century Fox (international) that was spearheaded by British producer David Puttnam, having been behind films such as Bugsy Malone (1976) and Midnight Express (1978) that wanted to do a film in the mold of A Man for All Seasons (1966) - where one had to follow their conscience, which just happened to fit the mold of the story of the 1924 Olympics that was written by actor-turned-writer Colin Welland. The director tasked to do the film was Hugh Hudson, a first-time film director mostly known for advertising and documentaries. If they managed to accomplish an accurate film, let them enjoy the fruits of said attention, even if there had to be certain liberties taken to get to this point: One can't really be serious to believe a runner wouldn't know about a heat being on Sunday right before going on a trip to compete in the Olympics. Two characters are based on folks that refused permission to have their real names to being used, while a romance for one of the leads is actually ten years too early. There is a mix of established and young faces, with Cross, Charleson, Farrell, and Havers being backed up by Holm, Gielgud, and Anderson. The sentiment must have paid off, since the film won four Academy Awards (one each for Puttnam Vangelis, and Welland), including Best Picture (over films like Raiders of the Lost Ark and Reds - a punchline in it of itself).

If one really gets a tremendous inspiration from the story of two runners making their mark on the world through their faith and courage, go right on ahead. It has all the things one could for appeal for the traditionalists (with a modern electronic music touch) that goes for the inspirational without leaning on extreme sentiment or anything with too much contrivances - entertainment or otherwise. And yet, here I am, trying to figure out why it proves so average in my experience - a picture of illusion and platitudes that nearly choke out the air of actually finding something to really say anything meaningful about liking it. In other words, it feels like someone pulled over a bag over my head and somehow got me to the market while I only saw a bunch of decent images in the bag. We are talking about a "sports film" of running, after all. It seems like the kind of film people rush to elevate on a pedestal when trying to make a "prestige picture" that only just balances its story of Liddell and Abrahams to where I appreciate the effort and some of its aspects that go with it while not really reaching a high point. David Watkin does well with the cinematography, and Cross and Charleson are at least calm enough to make their struggle one to care for. Gielgud and Richardson are exactly what you could expect from the college angle, dignified and with reason even when doing a scene about expressing certain doubts about Charleson and his methods to glory. Holm proves to be most enterprising of the bunch, endearing in steadfast conviction that we care to see for what we see spliced in from time to time in teaching to victory without falling to all the clichés. In the end, it just depends on what one really sees the film in the prism of entertainment. Some people really get swept up in a film that is all about conviction and country - I just see it as not too far removed from other "sports films" that have their own little foundation of courage for the underdog, where you might as well call it Rocky (1976) for British people and running. If you are into a film of the stiff upper lip in the face of adversity for 124 minutes, this may very well be for you.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

The Evil Dead.

Review #1296: The Evil Dead.

Cast: 
Bruce Campbell (Ash Williams), Ellen Sandweiss (Cheryl Williams), Hal Delrich (Scott), Betsy Baker (Linda), and Theresa Tilly (Shelly) Written and Directed by Sam Raimi (#611 - Spider-Man)

Review: 
"[Sam Raimi] has made the most ferociously original horror film of 1982" - Stephen King.

What can really be said about this film that hasn't already been said by better writers? Originally filmed as "Book of the Dead", The Evil Dead is a grand achievement in film-making, reaching plenty of highs in horror on a humble budget racked with high ambition from its director. Sam Raimi had become fascinated with the idea of making films as a teenager, doing so with fellow Royal Oak, Michigan native Bruce Campbell on a Super 8mm camera, with his feature debut being It's Murder! (1977). The following year, he was inspired to make a prototype horror film, one that would soon take the lesson of featuring plenty of gore (blood). Raimi's result was Within the Woods, made on a $1,600 budget in 1978 that took inspiration from numerous horror such as H. P. Lovecraft's writing that would feature both Campbell and Sandweiss. It proved to be a minor hit when it premiered in a Detroit theater alongside The Rocky Horror Picture Show. In order to make a feature film, Raimi (who wasn't even 21 when production started) would need around (or over) $100,000, for which he and Campbell raised slightly below that amount through asking for donations (which they would need to do again in order to try and finish it after completing half the film by late 1980). It certainly was a film engaging in terror to make for the actors and crew, where certain scenes required thick contact lenses that could only be utilized for 15 minutes at a time. The cabin they used in Tennessee was an abandoned one that needed renovation such as putting in electricity and a telephone, but it did not spur having to deal with cold temperatures that led to frozen camera and wires along with them burning furniture prior to finishing production to stay warm. There is plenty more that really could be said about how this is an achievement in thriving over a low budget with plenty of shock value to go around that can be gruesome alongside thrilling in its 85 minute run-time while leaving the audience curious for more. The way that the demons speak, combined with the intricate filming and certain shots make for a disturbing time that I readily enjoy, where its cast manages to keep the horror trappings on full display without succumbing to cliches, starting with Campbell. When it comes to dealing with terror and the madness, he just happens to have the right kind of entrancing quality where one can just watch him with no hesitation that proves key in what makes the best horror films tick, whether one has fake blood down the face or not. The rest of the cast do fine jobs with what they are given (especially when having to wear makeup), with Sandweiss proving the finest of the bunch in that regard. You could point to nearly any scene when it aims for spooks, really, but the slow-moving sequence at the end, coupled with the tracking shot for the finish, is likely the one that seals the deal just right. When you want a sincere horror film that means what it wants that rides high on suspense with a few effects and other aspects (such as some interesting music from Joseph LoDuca), this is a pretty good example of one that does everything near perfectly. The film eventually found footing in distribution (in part because of such glowing recommendations such as King), and it inspired two sequels (1987, 1992) along with a reboot/remake in 2013 and even a television series. You really can't go wrong with a film like this, as it oozes in terror that clicks to your senses and stays with you after its last shot - just what the best horror films do, after all.

Next Review: One more for the road for Halloween - The Week After. It's a bit of a surprise, but it's coming...Tonight.

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Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Excalibur.

Review #1210: Excalibur.

Cast: 
Nigel Terry (King Arthur), Helen Mirren (Morgana Le Fay), Nicholas Clay (Sir Lancelot), Cherie Lunghi (Queen Guenevere), Paul Geoffrey (Sir Perceval), Nicol Williamson (Merlin), Corin Redgrave (Duke of Cornwall), Patrick Stewart (King Leodegrance), Keith Buckley (Sir Uryens), Clive Swift (Sir Ector), Liam Neeson (Sir Gawain), Gabriel Byrne (King Uther Pendragon), and Robert Addie (Prince Mordred) Directed by John Boorman (#565 - Zardoz and #975 - Deliverance)

Review: 
The legend of King Arthur is a myth that has lived on in various forms of media for centuries, such as in prose or in novel form. Naturally it has served as something to adapt to the world of film, each having their own sort of style to tell the tale - whether involving a comedic take (A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, itself an adaptation of a novel from Mark Twain), or as an adaptation of a Broadway musical in Camelot (1967), or as a parody in Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975). In 1969, John Boorman had wanted to make a film about the Merlin legend. His plans to do the film with United Artists did not come to pass owing to the scope of the script (for which he wrote with Rospo Pallenberg), with the studio offering him the chance to do an adaptation of The Lord of the Rings. While Boorman did not end up doing an adaptation of such material, he incorporated set design and imagery ideas from that stalled attempt for this film, which is based off the prose Le Morte d'Arthur by Thomas Malory. It is obvious that Boorman clearly wanted to make the definitive version of the legend, utilizing its 140 minute run-time to try and make a big grand story spectacle from life to death. It reads a bit like a history paper written in a fever dream by someone who really wants to get all of this information down before it flashes away - it may seem a bit long, but that's because he really wants to wow you with all that is going on. The spectacle does tend to outweigh the actual characters at times, and a lesser made film would buckle under the pressure - but Boorman manages to keep it all together to make an engaging fever dream of a movie.

The film has an interesting look to it, owing to the lighting choices (such as the forest scenes or parts involving the sword) that occurred due to production having rain fall on each day of the shoot, filmed entirely in Ireland. The result makes it seem like one is watching a otherworldly type of movie, with eerie and fitting cinematography from Alex Thomson. The aluminium on the knights glistens well at times, especially. The key highlight of the film is Williamson, who can switch from clever wit to foreboding when needed, wise and tricky as one would hope. He sells the film well whenever he pops up on screen, that is for sure. Terry (who dabbled in film on occasion when not on the British stage) has the task of trying to play the man of the myth from adolescence all the way to a withered man without seeming lost in the tale - he does just fine with that. Mirren (also known for her work in the theatre) isn't given too much depth with her conniving part, but at least she is game to have some scheming fun for her moments. Clay and Lunghi don't fare as great, each being a bit passive while not having too much chemistry of sorts with Terry, whether friend or lover. It doesn't come to the point where it undercuts the film as a whole, but it feels more haphazard than it probably should. Geoffrey ends up having to try and help carry the film a bit for the film's last half, and while he does seemingly make the role grow from when he is introduced, he can't help make it seem that the film could run out of steam when it tries to give focus on the Grail. The others of the cast fill their roles when required (including early performances on film for Stewart and Neeson, which is neat in some way). The film promotes itself on nobility and comradeship from its fabled Knights of the Round Table, where the king embodies the land he and his subjects walk on. It is a film that indulges in sets of armor, violence and a sense of hope, juggling itself amiably as an epic that merits its own place in entertainment among fantasy films. Perhaps it doesn't hold up as well as it should with some of its narrative workings, but it makes up for it with plenty of fun, spectacle and a fairly game cast that works out a quest of the legend and comes up with most of the right ideas in time.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.