Ganja & Hess.

Review #1803: Ganja & Hess.

Cast: 

Marlene Clark (Ganja Meda), Duane Jones (Dr. Hess Green), Bill Gunn (George Meda), Sam Waymon (Reverend Luther Williams), Leonard Jackson (Archie), Candece Tarpley (Girl In Bar), Richard Harrow (Dinner Guest), John Hoffmeister (Jack Sargent), Betty Barney (Singer In Church), and Mabel King (Queen of Myrthia) Written and Directed by Bill Gunn.

Review: 

"I've liked every script I've ever written, and I've hated every movie made from them."

Bill Gunn made his mark as a writer in the time he had to do it. The son of a musician/poet and an actress/theater director, Gunn was born in 1934 in Philadelphia. He first studied acting as a sixteen-year-old after moving to New York. He starred in a handful of acting performances over the next couple of years (such as his main role in Losing Ground (1982), the first film directed by an African American woman in sixty years), but his truest passion was as an author and playwright in order to escape the frustration of having a lack of creative control as an actor. He wrote 29 plays, two novels, and several screenplays (most notably with The Landlord (1970)). Gunn directed three films in his lifetime, but only this one received any substantial distribution (however, Personal Problems (1980) has had notice); Stop (1970) would have been the second studio film by a black director, but its X rating and premise caused Warner Bros. to shelve it. Gunn died at the age of 54 in 1989 of encephalitis, but his papers live on for archivers to research for themselves. The story of this film is sadly one familiar to those who know of filmmakers who were both ahead of their time and screwed over by flaky producers. Kelly-Jordan Enterprises wanted to make a black vampire film, since Blacula (1972) was quite a hit with audiences. The original print received fair notice from the Cannes Film Festival, but a preview audience screening in New York doomed the film. The distributor, perhaps believing that it needed to cash in on straight horror tastes, sold it to Heritage Enterprises for them to cut the negative (under Fima Noveck), which resulted in a 110-minute movie being cut into one of 78 minutes, complete with a different score and dubbing; this version on VHS went under several titles: Black Evil, Black Vampire, Blackout: The Moment of Terror, Blood Couple, Double Possession, and Vampires of Harlem. The original cut did survive, for which one is fortunate to be available to see under a recent restoration that was done through the help of Kino, the Museum of Modern Art, and The Film Foundation. A remake (with a few imitated scenes shot-for-shot) was done in Da Sweet Blood of Jesus (2014) that was directed by Spike Lee.

It isn't exactly a horror film in the defined sense. For one, the vampire legend is treated more as an addiction alongside spiritualism than one shown through the usual proceedings (i.e., there is blood sucking but not a danger of being killed by sunlight or a stake) - the word vampire is never used. It involves an anthropologist/museum archivist who contracts a blood lust from an African artifact he collected, and he ends up seeing his new assistant do a murder-suicide attempt on him before he arises to drink the blood of the dead body that he stores in his freezer; his wife shows up later, ends up wooed by him and develops a craving for blood. Of course, it's not easy to be someone who has to taste blood to survive, but you get the picture. In that sense, it isn't going to be the clear winner for every horror viewer, but it is definitely deserving to be seen to be believed (especially among the arthouse favorites). It is the kind of movie you might have to see a few times to really absorb its curiosity and daring sense of strangeness, and Gunn should be applauded for having the audacity to make the film the way he did. Jones (in his second and last starring film role, owing to his interests in theater work) and Clark are the ideal pair when it comes to offbeat eroticism when it comes to seeing two folks get in touch with the spiritual side of the desire for blood and long-lasting life. Oh sure, the movie is very evidently a low-budget movie at times, but there is a searing movie here by Gunn to be captivated anyway, if only because it is off-putting enough to inspire further curiosity regardless of limitations or its open ending (well, as open as can be...). In the end, the best thing that can be said about the film is that it can be seen the way it was intended to be seen for folks to seek out. It deserved better, pure and simple, and I think it deserves a place as a cult classic among both black cinema and horror for its verve and capable execution. For a film that will turn fifty next year, there has never been a better time to seek this one out.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: The Spook Who Sat by the Door (1973).

Car Wash.

Review #1637: Car Wash.

Cast: 

Franklyn Ajaye (T.C./Theodore Chauncy Elcott), Sully Boyar (Leon 'Mr B.' Barrow), Ivan Dixon (Lonnie), Bill Duke (Duane / Abdullah), Antonio Fargas (Lindy), Michael Fennell (Calvin), Arthur French (Charlie), Leonard Jackson (Earl), DeWayne Jessie (Lloyd), Jack Kehoe (Scruggs), Lauren Jones (Marleen), Henry Kingi (Goody), Melanie Mayron (Marsha), Garrett Morris (Slide), Clarence Muse (Snapper), Leon Pinkney (Justin), with Richard Brestoff (Irwin Barrow), Carmine Caridi (Foolish Father), George Carlin (the Taxi Driver), "Professor" Irwin Corey (The Mad Bomber), Lorraine Gary (the Hysterical Lady), Richard Pryor (Daddy Rich), and The Pointer Sisters (The Wilson Sisters) Directed by Michael Schultz.

Review: 

"In many films, I want to tell a story everybody can understand. But more importantly, I want an audience to come out of a film with more than what they went in with—thinking, feeling, laughing, crying."

There are quite a few directors and actors who made a name for themselves within African American cinema in the 1970s, and Michael Schultz belongs in the conversation for that era. He attended the University of Wisconsin before dropping out to work in a steel mill and then moving on to study and graduate at Marquette. He made his debut as a stage manager in The Old Glory (1964) Having already been involved in theater productions in high school, he was well-suited for when he moved on to attend Princeton University, where he directed his first play in 1966 (he would manage or direct numerous performances from 1964 to 1974). His staging of To Be Young, Gifted and Black resulted in success alongside a re-staging for television two years later. Alongside entering television for several series, he also moved into films with Together for Days (1972) and Honeybaby, Honeybaby (1974), although his breakthrough would come with Cooley High (1975) with audiences that has been noted as a classic by future directors like Spike Lee. Although Schultz's career moved down a tick with the noted failure Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (1978), he continued his work in film and television, and he can still be found in the latter category to the present day.

How many movies are there that involve a slice-of-life portrayal of a job that could be described in the same way one could say about future films about crabby lines of work? Or for that matter, how many are ones that were thought of as intended to be a musical? When the production head at Universal Pictures was pitched the play idea, he hated it, but told producers Art Linson and Gary Stromberg to just get the writer behind Sparkle and make a movie instead. Car Wash is certainly that one, a film that actually had its soundtrack recorded before the film started production in order for the actors to listen to it, complete with using a real car wash (Figueroa Car Wash in Los Angeles) for filming. The soundtrack was done by Rose Royce, and the title song became a number one hit while the soundtrack won a Grammy Award (the film has been argued to be one of the first disco-infused films). Believe it or not, the film was written by Joel Schumacher, who had just one prior writing credit (Sparkle, released the same year), having moved up from costume and set design to writing to eventually directing by 1981 (but not before writing another famed film with disco influence with The Wiz). What we have here is a trove of ensemble fun, one that settles in like a series of sketches as the day (90 minutes) goes by, with an assortment of fair highlights among a few noteworthy check-ins and an interesting closure. Those familiar with films like American Graffiti (1973) will have a fine time with an ensemble piece with radio-infused style and narration. There are some charmers in the cast when it comes to lovable crass folks, such as Ajaye (known for his brief string of comedy albums) and his carefree range of buzzy charm, which goes along with other fun-loving sly folks like Fargas or Kehoe or beleaguered ones like Boyer; on the other side of focus is Dixon (best known for his lead role in Nothing But a Man (1964) and support in Hogan's Heroes), who provides shining struggle to go with the coarse Duke (in his debut film role) that shows the reality of what they do (meager job, meager pay, but one has to do it).

And then of course there are the small bit from notable folks. Carlin (a well-known comic of the counterculture with his second film role) has an interesting time spent with wandering amusement that rambles for a short time. The same goes for Corey and his nutty small turn to set up a gag with a bottle in the air, while Gary plays hysterics to that key breaking moment. Believe it or not, Pryor (a stand-up comic in his prime) making a cameo appearance in the film was not actually planned at first. For one, it was intended to be a fellow named Reverend Ike (who would be playing a character inspired by himself), but when he turned it down, Pryor stepped in (Schultz and Pryor gave differing assessments on the performance, as the former noted the actor as doing numerous variations on one theme that a director has to guide/pick while Pryor thought he should have known better but was under the influence of cocaine at the time to notice) - for me, it's the most interesting appearance, one with a music group to make prime flim-flam benevolence. Be thankful one can see the film in its full form and not have to live in a time with edited TV versions circulating, one of which that takes out the raunchy elements alongside adding/deleting characters (Lindy out for a character played by Danny DeVito, who is all but deleted from the original version except in the background). At any rate, what we have is a deserving favorite by the audience that have warmed up to it in the four decades since its release, one that has a charm worth looking into.

Next Time: Sure, this director has been covered plenty of times before. But it is his portrayal of the life of one of the most famous jazz saxophonists that merits discussion, especially since it wasn't given its due upon release with its key lead performance from Forest Whitaker. Rock the beat for Bird (1988).

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.