The Batman.

Review #1814: The Batman.

Cast: 

Robert Pattinson (Bruce Wayne / Batman), Zoë Kravitz (Selina Kyle / Catwoman), Paul Dano (Edward Nashton / Riddler), Jeffrey Wright (Lieutenant James Gordon), John Turturro (Carmine Falcone), Peter Sarsgaard (Gil Colson), Andy Serkis (Alfred Pennyworth), Colin Farrell (Oswald "Oz" Cobblepot / Penguin), Jayme Lawson (Bella Reál), Gil Perez-Abraham (Officer Martinez), Peter McDonald (Officer William Kenzie), Alex Ferns (Commissioner Pete Savage), Con O'Neill (Chief Mackenzie Bock), Rupert Penry-Jones (Mayor Don Mitchell Jr) Directed by Matt Reeves (#1038 - Cloverfield)

Review: 

“I’ve always felt that the Batman story was a very special story. He’s not really a superhero. He’s someone who’s driven by the pain of his past. He’s trying to find some way to make sense of his life. It’s a very psychological story. This is the character I relate to most.”

I understand there were folks who doubted that Robert Pattinson could be the character of Batman because of some old movies from the mid 2000s or something. Well, one wonders just how ridiculous that sounds when compared to the minority of folks who decried at the casting of Michael Keaton for the title role in 1989 because of some old movies from the mid 1980s. But we have moved on from films that were influenced by comic books like The Killing Joke and The Dark Knight Returns to films that are influenced by comic books such as Batman: Year One (1987), The Long Halloween (1996-97), and "Ego" (I read two of those stories quite a few years ago, incidentally). But you likely know of those comic books if you are interested in seeing another Batman film. After all, there have now been nine actors to have portrayed the character in film (live action and animated) since 1966. They all have had distinct perspectives when it comes to depicting the character often called the "Caped Crusader", and one can certainly find something to appreciate from each and every director that was behind it, whether that was Leslie H. Martinson, Tim Burton, or Christopher Nolan. You may remember that it has been a couple of years since the last Batman film in live-action - ten years, in fact. I'm sure you know that Ben Affleck appeared as the character in three films (one cameo), and he intended to direct and write a standalone film which apparently was described as "almost James Bond-ian" slate for filming in 2017. However, by that year, Affleck would step away from the director's chair and later would step away from starring in the film (of course, five years ago the DC Extended Universe was vastly different from now); incidentally, there are plans of a Batgirl film in 2022 that has its own cast in mind for the key roles. Reeves would be tapped to direct in 2017 with his own script, with an initial target for June of 2021 for release (we all know how that worked out). Reeves and Peter Craig received credit for the script, which had some un-credited work from Mattson Tomlin. Reeves is best known for directing both Dawn of the Planet of the Apes (2014) and War for the Planet of the Apes (2017).

Honestly, comparing what is the best Batman is a curious thing, because I'm sure most folks haven't seen every Batman-related piece of media (comics, TV, film), but I will maintain that my favorite generally falls between either the Animated Series or the 1966 television series (the Nolan films with their grounded take narrowly edge out the gothic Burton films). Regardless of one's favorite, I'm sure you can find something to like here within the great myth of Batman. One can add Reeves to the list of capable directors behind a Batman movie. In fact, this film might actually rank in the top section of Batman films, one that creates plenty of atmosphere within its comic book trappings and noir ambitions that makes a distinct narrative that turns upon vengeance and hope to deliver a relatable piece of entertainment with bleak and ambitious aim that works quite well for the current age without becoming too absorbed. Pattinson does a splendid job as Batman, one still fairly green in terms of being the "World's Greatest Detective" that is basked in desperation. He makes a great imperfect interpretation of the role because of the fact that he just isn't who he thinks he is. Instead of a Batman movie with the usual trimmings and a considerably more memorable villain, it is more balanced this time around. In other words: he has the layers required to drive the film. Kravitz and her graceful charm work well when paired with Pattinson and their palpable chemistry that drive the film at times with great interest. Dano does just fine for a role that I wish I could agree with more, playful in terror. No, I don't mean I yearn for a villain that is agreeable. But it is a strange quality to wonder why one would think "Riddler" and "Zodiac Killer" in the same sentence, because the Riddler just seems more of a compulsive puzzler man rather than a serial killer (Reeves had the serial killer aspect early in the script). I just don't find the character to be anything other than just "fine" (him and his terrifying 500 followers, I kid, I kid), and it is probably not the easiest thing to say that the most memorable Riddler portrayed in film is still Frank Gorshin after half a century. At least one could be curious to see if Dano would ever appear in further features, but I just hope that any further films find something useful to cover within reflecting the title hero, such as maybe Mr. Freeze or the Mad Hatter (i.e. not just the Joker, because that character is overplayed). Wright and Serkis both prove well in their moments spent playing against Pattinson in the familiar roles that engage well without running into comparisons of the past. Farrell does quite fine with a role half-covered in the shadows that shows the seeds of ruthlessness that could be apparent in further times without becoming desperate. Turturro creeps through the film with the right touch of oozy decadence. The last thing I want to mention is the music by Michael Giacchino, who weaves a capable film score with a title theme that has managed to stick in my head a few days later (of course Reeves could also get credit for his use of "Something in the Way", because who doesn't want a fitting song from Nirvana in a Batman film?).

Honestly, I figured the run-time would not be too much of a problem. 176 minutes is just about right for the kind of sprawling curiosity that Reeves has for depicting the duality of seeking justice without becoming a bloated mess (besides, going "it could have been edited down" is not exactly a valid response). The film does have noir aspirations, but it also finds time for dazzling action sequences alongside tinges of horror that generally do well without becoming off-kilter. It manages to capture most of what has proved interesting to say about the character of Batman within a story of seeing both sides of the coin in exacting justice with certain force. It leaves one curious for what can occur further within this type of storytelling in film without begging deeply for it. It isn't perfect, but it doesn't need to be when it comes to the task of showing the character of Batman in a way that seems fresh and relevant, which it does quite well.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: As noted before, it is Wings (1966), the Soviet classic.

The Connection (1961).

Review #1813: The Connection.

Cast: 

Warren Finnerty (Leach), Jerome Raphael (Solly), Garry Goodrow (Ernie), Jim Anderson (Sam), Carl Lee (Cowboy), Barbara Winchester (Sister Salvation), Henry Proach (Harry), Roscoe Lee Browne (J. J. Burden), William Redfield (Jim Dunn), with Freddie Redd (Piano Player), Jackie McLean (Sax Player), Larry Richie (Drummer), and Michael Mattos (Bass Player) Directed and Edited by Shirley Clarke.

Review: 

"When I did The Connection, which was about junkies, I knew nothing about junk and cared less. It was a symbol--people who are on the outside. I always felt alone, and on the outside of the culture that I was in. I grew up in a time when women weren't running things. They still aren't."

You bet it was time to do something a bit more experimental when it comes to focusing on women directors. Shirley Clarke is surely deserving of curiosity, and she would cultivate a career of three decades in her own way. For one, she was actually interested in dance growing up as a child in New York City; she was the daughter of a office furniture manufacturer (and also a bully, as noted by her sister Elaine Dundy). She studied dance at Stephens College, Johns Hopkins University, Bennington College, and the University of North Carolina. Her first film would be in 1953 with Dance in the Sun; the short film was an adaptation of dance choreography. Her influences in becoming a director were films such as The Quiet One (1948, directed by Sidney Meyers), In the Street (1948, done by James Agee, Helen Levitt, and Janice Loeb), and Roberto Rossellini's Neorealist works (particularly Rome, Open City). She would gradually move into other subjects (with concurrent studying at the City College of New York in the mid 1950s), with Skyscraper (1959) being one notable work from that era; that film (in collaboration with Willard Van Dyke and Irving Jacoby) involved the construction of the 660 Fifth Avenue skyscraper. The Connection (1961) was Clarke's first feature-length film, and it was an adaptation of the 1959 play of the same name (originally produced by the Living Theater) by Jack Gelber, who would adapt the material for use in this film. Both play and movie would attract controversy; the plot focuses on the lives of heroin-addicted jazz musicians, and the film would attract further controversy because of its use of an obscene word (the word is "shit", used to describe heroin) that the state of New York banned for indecency; the lack of license did not stop attempts to screen the film anyway, but the police stepped in after it had screened twice, but the film was not favored by audiences (with reviews being more positive abroad than in New York). At any rate, Clarke would continue to make films involving characters perceived to live in the margins, such as with The Cool World (1963 and Portrait of Jason (1967) while later experimenting with video and lecturing until her death in 1997 at the age of 77, and she is surely deserving of attention with her place in cinema. Take it this way: when John Cassavetes directed his first film in Shadows (a key film within American independent cinema done in 1959), he did so with a 16mm camera that he borrowed from Clarke. 

Oh, the experimental part. Well, it is one of the earliest examples of a "found footage" film, predating the dozens of found footage films that are generally used for horror. This is stated in the opening title card, which states that it is the "result" of footage assembled by a cameraman working for a missing documentary filmmaker (the play in comparison was a "play within a play", albeit with a few more characters). Clarke co-produced and edited the film, which takes place primarily on one set (designed by Richard Silbert) with two cameras that feature most of the cast from the original play. The film is whatever you think it is, whether involving drug addiction, or what Clarke believed it to be about with alienation.  It is a wonderful achievement, one that is a representation of the avant-garde scene in all of its curious aspects without becoming engulfed in heavy-handed bloat. It is the logical extension of cinema verité within its frank depiction of American sensibilities in the era of the Beat Generation in the 1960s with a mood of "natural acting". With a mix of improvised acting, jump-cuts, and a simple plot, one will have quite a ball with a film that is basically like a jazz composition. It is everything and nothing you might expect, and the performers all do excellent jobs that draw you in from the jump without letting go. Finnerty was the one member of the cast recognized for his acting in the play (when it was on off-Broadway), and it shouldn't be surprising that he carries the film as one of the primary burning cinders that hold the film for such interest with his blazing sarcasm. Goodrow is also quite worthy in his sniveling human element, which Raphael and Anderson prove to be an interesting pair in varying moods when on/off their element (note the differences between being "on" and "off", after all). Lee displays casual charm when he arrives on screen that makes him quite captivating (incidentally, Winchester is paired with Lee for a time as an person of faith who doesn't see these folks for who they are, which is interesting). Browne (likely the most known of the actors in the film, since he had a career of over four decades) doesn't have much to say within time spent in either the background or within shots without Redfield. Of course, Redfield proves splendid within self-serving amusement too, while the quartet of jazz players accompany the film to great effect. No one ever becomes just a "character", since it has that touch of honesty with alienated people searching for the next certain experience. Really this could be about other addictions, but it also could be about any kind of fragmented people on the outside. I think in that regard the movie is a complete success when it comes to a movie that confronts you without any sort of qualms or compromises.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: We will take a momentary detour because of the obligation to detail thoughts on The Batman (2022), which happened to come out this month. As such, Women Directors Month will resume after that review with...

Wings (1966).

The Eternal Breasts.

Review #1812: The Eternal Breasts.

Cast: 

Yumeji Tsukioka (Fumiko Shimojō, née Nakajō), Ryōji Hayama (Akira Ōtsuki), Junkichi Orimoto (Shigeru Anzai), Hiroko Kawasaki (Tatsuko), Shirō Ōsaka (Yoshio), Ikuko Kimuro (Seiko), Masayuki Mori (Takashi Hori), Yōko Sugi (Kinuko, Hori's wife), Chōko Iida (Hide), Bokuzen Hidari (Hide's husband), and Tōru Abe (Yamagami) Directed by Kinuyo Tanaka.

Review: 

The story of female film directors also has a chapter dedicated to the first two women directors in the country of Japan. Tazuko Sakane was the first female director in the country, debuting in 1936 after having spent a couple of years as an assistant director and editor for Kenji Mizoguchi; the film was released as Hatsu Sugata [New Clothing]. However, it was the only feature film she would end up doing, because its failure precluded her from doing further features. Her only opportunity to direct came with the Manchukuo Film Association with educational nonfiction films that were aimed for Japanese immigrants. Of those films, only one survives (Sakane died in 1975 at the age of 70). Coincidentally, the second female film director in Japan would have an association with Mizoguchi. Kinuyo Tanaka had been an actress since she was fifteen years old (and graduated to lead roles in 1929), and she would be directed by various names in Japanese cinema such as Heinosuke Gosho, Yasujirō Ozu, and (eventually) Mizoguchi. After World War II ended, she took a different approach to acting, such as going on a cultural envoy to the United States (which attracted criticism of "Americanization", which perplexes me) and going for freelance work in acting. She even wanted to become a director, for which she aspired to join the Directors Guild of Japan, which had Mizoguchi as president. However, he strongly recommended against hiring her as a director because of his belief that she was not fit to direct (on that note, screw him); she was the only women in the Guild to her death. However, she would persist in her ambition, and she would get her chance with Love Letter [Koibumi] (1953). In time, Tanaka would direct five further films between 1953 and 1962, with The Eternal Breasts [Chibusa yo eien nare] being her most acknowledged work. As for her acting career, she would act in over a hundred films before her last in 1976, and she died in 1977 at the age of 67. 

The late 1950s were a Golden Age for Japanese cinema, and it shouldn't surprise you to see this as one of the interesting works within the era. Produced by Nikkatsu, the film was loosely based on the life Fumiko Nakajō, a poet who went through two mastectomies before her death of breast cancer in 1954 at the age of 31. The film was written by Sumie Tanaka. With a run-time of 110 minutes, it is pretty easy to recommend this film, one that shows plenty of efficiency within its storytelling and frank honesty in a bittersweet drama that shows just what can happen to a woman who finds a new streak of independence within tragedy. It is the story of a woman who goes through divorce (and the loss of a child to said divorced parent), the growing of a poetry career, and then breast cancer (which is the most-common invasive cancer in women for the world). It depicts the struggle of a newly divorced women with cancer by not turning it into something for exploitation or easy solutions (in that sense, it seems quite progressive even now). Tsukioka is the key to the proceedings, since this journey is one that requires an earthy sense of timing and capable charm. She does that in spades, never straining under the pressure on route to a tremendous performance that likely will stick with you for a time. Hayama plays the friendly second in a timely affair that happens around the climax, which results in a patiently assembled tender romance for worthy effect (on the other side is Mori, who Tsukioka has a carefully planned distance with). Likely the most arresting sequence is the one involving a long hallway with pushing from nurses...which goes behind an iron gate for the morgue. It is a bleak, honest movie that hits the mark in its filmmaking, one that I highly recommend watching as a film that shows plenty of expression without trouble. Death may be inevitable, but it does not mean the legacy of a director like Tanaka will be forgotten, particularly with a film as haunting and as effective as this movie proves to be.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: The Connection (1961).

Not Wanted.

Review #1811: Not Wanted.

Cast: 

Sally Forrest (Sally Kelton), Keefe Brasselle (Drew Baxter), Leo Penn (Steve Ryan), Dorothy Adams (Mrs. Aggie Kelton), Wheaton Chambers (Mr. Kelton), Rita Lupino (Joan), Audrey Farr (Nancy), Carole Donne (Jane), and Ruth Clifford (Mrs. Elizabeth Stone) Directed by Elmer Clifton and Ida Lupino (#799 - The Hitch-Hiker and #1651 - Never Fear)

Review: 

"I love being called Mother. I would never shout orders at anyone. I hate women who order men around, professionally or personally. I wouldn’t dare do that with my old man…and I don’t do it with guys on the set. I say, ‘Darlings, Mother has a problem. I’d love to do this. Can you do it? It sounds kooky but I want to do it.’ And they do it.”

If you remember correctly, Ida Lupino really wanted to a writer more than an actress. Of course, being a member of the Lupino family meant that there was some expectation placed on her to act. She did have a steady line of work within the industry, but she chafed at some of its trappings (most notably with Warner Bros, which she left in 1947), and she once described a Hollywood career as a perishable commodity. Not many folks can be referred to as the “English Jean Harlow" alongside her own nicknames for herself (once jokingly proposing that she went from being the "poor man's Bette Davis" to being the "poor man's Don Siegel"). She gained an interest in directing from seeing how it was done while on suspension from Warner Bros and felt it seemed more interesting than time spent on a set acting. In 1948, she would form "The Filmmakers Inc" alongside her husband producer/writer Collier Young and Malvin Wald. Hired to do the film for the year of 1949 was Elmer Clifton, who was known for his low-budget work within Westerns and exploitation films in a career that spanned both silent and sound. However, he suffered a heart attack on the third day of filming. Lupino would step in to direct the film, although she elected to not take directorial effort. She had also co-written the screenplay with Paul Jarrico (who in turn had co-written the story with Malvin Wald) and she also co-produced the film with Anson Bond, and one of the first credits on the film is "Ida Lupino presents" (as for Clifton, he died of a cerebral hemorrhage on October 15). At any rate, Lupino's film would do fine for itself enough to keep her on the forefront of making cheap productions under "The Filmmakers Inc.", which lasted until 1955. She would make just one further feature film as director after that while keeping busy as a television director alongside TV acting. She was credited by numerous colleagues for her patience and knowledge when it came to filmmaking and conferring with others on technique. This involved shooting on location or re-using sets or casting unknowns (such as her doctor in one film) or even product placement to help keep production afloat.

Apparently, there is also a version of the film that was done by exploitation filmmakers that liked to insert "educational" footage into films in order to slip by the Production Code (with one version called "The Wrong Rut"), and it is here where one would see inserted footage of an actual cesarian delivery. Of course, the real film doesn't even mention the word "pregnant", and its sequence in a hospital is particularly interesting for the way it depicts an operation through the eyes of our lead. You might recognize Forrest and Brasselle, since they would each star in Lupino's next film in Never Fear (1950), and Forrest also starred in Lupino's 1951 film Hard, Fast and Beautiful. I think that film is just a tad better than this film, likely because the framing device utilized here (i.e. telling most of the film as a flashback) works a bit better in other imitators of the pulpy noir. Of course, Lupino has her sights set on telling an interesting story involving the plight of a child born out of wedlock and the distinct differences seen when one is talking about it for the mother as opposed to the father. No matter how we view the personality of the flighty lead, one can still emphasize with the anguish felt on screen when it comes to facing a hard decision when it comes to a new child. The social consciousness that Lupino shows here is something that still relates well to our day and age because of the struggles that still come with double standards and human nature. Forrest handles this well through the tender direction by delivering a character with the right sense of passion that comes with someone thrusted into hard realities. Brasselle plays the tender side of life, someone who has been around the corner a couple of times and isn't weary about what they saw; this works fine for him, who is mostly played against Forrest for scenes like seeing model trains or a running climax. Penn plays the aloof part of the main triangle with the right sense of timing needed that comes and goes on his own terms (one has to admire the way the film depicts Forrest and Penn being swaying to each other with the simple act of throwing a cigarette away). Adams and Chambers show up for a time as the parental foils for a brief time. As a whole, the movie works fairly well in pressing a social issue without becoming just a sensationalist work or something that can be tied down to easy resolutions. As a debut feature, it is a worthy one to look into just where Lupino would go with filmmaking that dared to engage in social relevance with efficiency and durability that makes it one to recommend without question.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: The Eternal Breasts.

Working Girls.

Review #1810: Working Girls.

Cast: 

Judith Wood (June Thorpe), Dorothy Hall (Mae Thorpe), Charles "Buddy" Rogers (Boyd Wheeler), Paul Lukas (Dr. Joseph Von Schrader), Stuart Erwin (Pat Kelly), Frances Dee (Louise Adams), Mary Forbes (Mrs. Johnstone), Claire Dodd (Jane), Dorothy Stickney (Loretta), Alberta Vaughn (Violet), and Claude King (Mr. Adams) Directed by Dorothy Arzner (#1648 - Sarah and Son)

Review: 

Working Girls was the ninth feature effort from Dorothy Arzner (with two uncredited contributions), who as we all know deserved better when it comes to appraising one of the most prolific women directors of the first half of the 20th century, if not still one of the most prolific of the now. The film is adapted from the 1930 play Blind Mice, which had been written by Vera Caspary and Winifred Lenihan; Caspary was a novelist who is best known for her novel Laura (that was turned into a hit movie), while Lenihan was an actress mostly involved in the theater and her one defining role as the title role in the 1923-24 American production of Saint Joan. It was a re-working of Caspary's novel Music in the Street, which used undercover work at a rooming house by her. However, the play was actually not much of a success, since she was not experienced in writing plays (to the point where the producers did re-writes) that resulted in two weeks of life on the stage. Zoe Akins served as the screenwriter for the film, as she did for a number of Arzner's early films.

I'm sure you are familiar with the classic structure of two women trying to make it while working in the city. Well, don't forget about the joys of pre-marital relations and making light of marriage. Actually, Arzner described the film as one of her favorites, but Paramount Pictures gave it a limited release - keep in mind, this was the Pre-Code era too. A deal by Universal Pictures to acquire a number of films from Paramount's library from 1929-1948 would also bury the movie in obscurity for years without a home video release. Of course, prints do exist that were screened for occasions such as 2015 for UCLA or for bootlegs. Of course, one might not exactly be quite familiar with the stars besides Lukas (well, him and Erwin were both future Academy Award nominees, though). It was the last starring role for Hall, and Wood had her peak (in terms of roles) in this year, while Rogers had a few years of being known as "America's Boy Friend" who dabbled in music. The reason I am spending a bit of time with history window-dressing is to give a little credit to the actual result generated by Arzner when it comes to making a solid Pre-Code comedy that can be interpreted as a useful feminist work with its ruminations about marriage that make for a fairly interesting 77 minutes. Sure, there were a handful of films that aimed to capture the reality of folks trying to mingle the realities of city life with love life with regard to what expectations are held to them, but this time with a truly feminine perspective. While the structure of the film doesn't exactly yield to too many unpredictable closing marks, it does manage to have a charm and efficiency to make things seem worth it without being absorbed in audience-safe fears (with a little bit of editing charm to go alongside it). Wood and Hall pair fairly decently when it comes to showing the associations that comes with free-spirited young people that will either take advantage of situations presented to them or be swept away by it (or both), which results in a few laughs. Rogers proves adequate in flighty charisma, but Lukas is the more distinct presence in terms of measured interest while Erwin makes a casual foil to seal the puzzle of distinct personalities playing against the leads. While its ending nearly shakes with too much offbeat nature (i.e. a gun-induced marriage proposal), the movie is generally riveting enough with showing perspective in the right places that means it still shows relevance among its peers after nine decades, one that is cheery and earthy enough to recommend.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: Not Wanted (1949).

A Chapter in Her Life.

Review #1809: A Chapter in Her Life.

Cast: 

Claude Gillingwater (Mr. Everingham), Jane Mercer (Jewel), Jacqueline Gadsden (Eloise Everingham), Frances Raymond (Madge Everingham), Robert Frazer (Dr. Ballard), Eva Thatcher (Mrs. Forbes), Ralph Yearsley (Zeke Forbes), Fred Thomson (Nat Bonnell), and Beth Rayon (Susan) Directed by Lois Weber (#644 - The Blot)

Review: 

"As I was convinced the theatrical profession needed a missionary, he suggested that the best way to reach them was to become one of them so I went on the stage filled with a great desire to convert my fellowman."

The story of the silent era has many names and many faces, but one that is not to be forgotten in the era when it comes to multi-faceted talent is Lois Weber. Actress, screenwriter, producer, and director, Weber cultivated an eventful career that lasted roughly two decades in motion pictures. Born in Allegheny City, Pennsylvania, she excelled in music, doing so in both piano and soprano singing to go with her evangelical interests (which she served on street corners alongside social activism). It was at the age of 25 (in 1904) that she decided to take up acting, convinced that the profession needed a missionary (in her words). She would work in the theater for a number of years before becoming involved with the film industry through the American Gaumont Chronophones; in 1911, she would become a director, serving as a co-director for several short films. In 1914, alongside her husband Phillips Smalley (a familiar pairing as they directed a handful of films together), she directed her first feature-length film in The Merchant of Venice (1914), although it is now lost. She would work for numerous studios such as the Rex Motion Picture Company and Universal before she would form her own studio in 1917, which had its own shooting stage while employing her husband as studio manager and her as the key brain behind filmmaking (although their relationship would soon deteriorate). Her most noted works generally touched social problems of the time (in the tradition that directors like D.W. Griffith had done), such as Where Are My Children? (1916), which touched on the subject of abortion alongside The Blot (1921), which touched on the issue of poverty. Of course, 1921 would end up being her peak. She would direct just five further works until 1934. This film was the third-to-last film that Weber would direct, in part because of the collapse of her film studio in 1921 but also because of the shift of audience curiosity with the advent of the Jazz Age (well, one could also cite a push within Hollywood to weed out certain folks, but whatever). 

By this point in her life, she returned to Universal to remake her previous effort in Jewel (1915), which like this film is an adaptation of the 1903 novel Jewel: A Chapter in Her Life, which had been written by Clara Louise Burnham. By the time the 1920s ended, she spent her time within house operations (such as her own Garden Village and ranch), before a mild comeback attempt in 1932-33 formally ended her career; Weber died in 1939 at the age of sixty, but her legacy has only now come into focus when discussing driven directors of the early age, complete with a recent biography (Lois Weber in Early Hollywood by Shelley Stamp). Weber adapted the book with Doris Schroeder (she would help write a handful of Westerns in the next few decades). Older moviegoers might find familiarity with works such as Pollyanna when it comes to main characters being idealistic children (after all, its lead actor in Gillingwater would appear in a handful of films opposite Shirley Temple from 1936 until his death in 1939). The movie is more of a vehicle for Weber to express her belief in the power of divine love through faith to help guide others back from their old ways (i.e. weird socialite people). So yes, the power of innocence overwhelming hypocrisy is exactly the kind of thing that springs just an hour for one's attention. In that sense, one will be just fine here, since this is a mild effort that works out in its attempts at good-hearted optimism without choking the viewer in too much sentimentality. Gillingwater was already forty years old when he entered the film industry, so he naturally makes a worthy foil for kind folks to play off (or play historical characters); this was the debut star role for Mercer, who was featured in a handful of roles before falling out the industry. Her wide-eyed expressions do okay for what is needed in terms of passing the time between trying to not just say "swell". The others fit the formula required in doing expressions that don't turn into vacant stares (for a film that utilizes little sets, anyway). The film maneuvers towards the inevitable with few surprises, but at least it does not ooze in tedium or with an overbearing sense of importance (take one or two steps and it might fit within the religious film craze, really). While this isn't exactly one of Weber's best films, it is a mild curiosity that could still fill an hour for any curious cinema enjoyer, and I suppose that will be more than enough when it comes to exploring women directors of the early 20th century.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Welcome to Women's History Month for March once again. We will feature films from numerous decades while featuring familiar and new feminine faces. Next Time is Working Girls (1931).

Summer of Soul.

Review #1808: Summer of Soul (...Or, When the Revolution Could Not Be Televised)

Cast: 

Featuring the musical talents of Stevie Wonder, Mahalia Jackson, Nina Simone, The 5th Dimension, The Staple Singers, Gladys Knight & the Pips, Blinky Williams, Sly and the Family Stone, The Chambers Brothers, The Edwin Hawkins Singers, Billy Davis Jr, Marilyn McCoo, Greg Errico, Adrienne Kryor, B.B. King, and many more...

Featuring festival attendants Dorina Drake, Barbara Bland-Acosta, Darryl Lewis, Ethel Beatty, Musa Jackson & Roger Parris. Featuring festival participants/organizers/others as themselves: Al Sharpton, Allen Zerkin, Margot Edman, Alan Leeds, Cyril "Bullwhip" Innis Jr, Hal Tulchin, Greg Tate, Charlayne Hunter-Gault, Jesse Jackson, Jim McFarland, Lin-Manuel Miranda, Luis Miranda, Denise Oliver-Velez, Shelia E., Chris Rock, Raoul Roach, Sal Masekela, etc.

Directed by Ahmir "Questlove" Thompson.

Review: 

You might wonder why I decided to cap the month off of film featuring black actors and directors with a documentary. Well, I will admit that this film was a last-minute choice, but my reasoning is two-fold: it features several noted musicians of the 1960s in soul, jazz, gospel, and Latin music that range from icons like Stevie Wonder to groups such as Sly and the Family Stone, for which I hadn't heard a number of before. It is also the debut feature film for its directing Ahmir "Questlove" Thompson. The musician/director was born in 1971 in Philadelphia to a family versed in music, and he graduated at the Philadelphia High School for the Creative and Performing Arts, where he founded a band with The Roots, which has done a handful of albums over nearly three decades. Of course, the history covered in this documentary is the foundation for the music that came from it. The 1969 Harlem Cultural Festival, sometimes referred to as the "Black Woodstock", was actually comprised of six concerts, with the first one being on June 29 and the last being on August 24 (Woodstock ran from August 15-18 in Bethel, while the fifth concert of the Cultural Festival played on the 17th), all of which would be hosted at Mount Morris Park [now known as Marcus Garvey Park] in Harlem, New York, complete with free admission. It was organized and hosted by Tony Lawrence, while Hal Tulchin recorded the footage on videotape. Portions were broadcast for two one-hour TV specials in 1969 but afterwards were not seen for decades. The original tapes ran for forty hours, and the process of restoring the tapes alongside editing them down from forty to 24 to two took five months. Of course, the footage wasn't really obscure for so long, since it attracted the interest of film archivist Joe Lauro, a friend of Karl Knudsen (a jazz record label owner), who had in his collection a 16-mm print of "Harlem Festival" that the latter showed the former in 2003 (this was a TV print that was offered to foreign distributors in the early 1970s, which had Tulchin's name on the reel). At any rate, Lauro and his company (Historic Films) came to an agreement with Tulchin to truck out copies of the tapes to digitize and catalog that resulted in licensed clips that could be released on DVD. The idea of turning the footage into a film like what happened with Woodstock (1970) was attempted by Lauro, Morgan Neville, and Robert Gordon but plans to close a deal on finding funding were scuttled by Tulchin and his increasing demands (the two played out their agreement to the end in 2007, and Tulchin died in 2017). Lauro was not mentioned in the film, but at least one can be comforted to note his key place in the long story that saw footage turn into something workable for a film. It was released in both theaters and Hulu (never heard of them) and was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Documentary Feature in 2022.

Of course, it isn't exactly just a musical concert, because there were plenty of presences there besides musicians, whether that involves reverends, ventriloquists, or the Black Panthers, which makes this an interesting time capsule into the close of a decade as vibrant as the sixties were. Tony Lawrence is briefly mentioned when it comes to his entertainer roots that helped in his efforts with the Parks Department of New York City to help with organizing the festival (starting in 1967), although one might not know of his fade into obscurity after the festival (save for accusing the white organizers of fraud that went nowhere). In fact, searching for Lawrence (not stalking, obviously) might have been just as curious as the fact that one doesn't have much information to present about him. This festival had the benefit of being sponsored by General Foods’ Maxwell House Coffee. Further festivals would come and go until 1974, but none were as prolific as this one was. There is a number of highlights to present when it comes to captivating music, such as with the 5th Dimension and their presentation, for which surviving members talk about them being proud to have a stage to play music to help dispel the idea that they had a "white sound". Of course, there are other perspectives to consider from performers who aren't alive to provide further, such as with the dynamic Simone or with the energetic Family Stone (perhaps it isn't surprising that the director's next planned project is about the group). Of course, one can't forget about Stevie Wonder and his distinct talents either, so there is plenty to unpack from a musical standpoint that makes it quite curious. With this being a perspective from 1969, one would not be surprised to see a small part of the film mentioning the moon landing, since it took place during the festival (July 20). Whatever one feels about the momentous occasion (which, you know, is one of the greatest achievements of the past sixty years), at least it is interesting to see the voices of people free to express their opinion with the context of where and what they are dealing with (and, since it isn't just a festival for one particular brand of music, one gets a bit of perspective into music genres such as Latin - for example). Granted, the music is never too far away from one's mind, but it is generally interesting to see what seems different fifty years removed from a moment where music ruled the day(s) in one little spot in Harlem. As a whole, this is a fairly well-done documentary that weaves music and perspective to make a solid debut effort from its director that would be worth viewing for any music aficionado or one curious in documentation of history.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

As always, I am appreciative of having the time required to deliver a month full of interesting films to cover from various decades and doing Black History Month for a second year in a row is no exception. I hope you enjoyed the month in all the varying perspectives, and I hope to have another complete list for next February. Suggestions are always open. As such, it is time for Women's Month for March, so be on the lookout, folks.

Baby Boy.

Review #1807: Baby Boy.

Cast: 

Tyrese Gibson (Joseph "Jody" Summers / Baby Boy), Omar Gooding (Sweetpea), Taraji P. Henson (Yvette), Snoop Dogg (Rodney), Adrienne-Joi Johnson (Juanita), Ving Rhames (Melvin), Mo'Nique (Patrice), Angell Conwell (Kim), Tamara LaSeon Bass (Peanut), and Candy Ann Brown (Ms. Herron) Written, Directed, and Produced by John Singleton (#545 - Shaft (2000) and #1640 - Boyz n the Hood)

Review:

John Singleton had a vision to tell stories for black audiences, and he did what he could with the nine movies he made in twenty years. Granted, Boyz n the Hood (1991) always will be mentioned first in the discussion, but one can't really forget about the films he made besides that one when it comes to depicting the experience on the street. After the success of the film, he directed four films in the next seven years: Poetic Justice (1993), Higher Learning (1995), Rosewood (1997), and Shaft (2000), which resulted in varying levels of appreciation (he wrote/produced all but one of them). Incidentally, this was the motion picture debut of Tyrese Gibson, a Los Angeles native who started in music in 1998 after receiving notice in acting within advertisements and roles on TV. Singleton wants to make his point about it clear from the opening, which takes an observation from Frances Cress Welsing involving the infantilization of the "black man in America", one that refers to how folks would use "crib" to describe their home to go along with imagery depicting a birth that sets the tone early for a movie that basks in authenticity. 

Admittedly, the movie does fine with what it wants to say about masculinity within a 130-minute run-time that squeezes just about as much as one could expect from a movie with a perspective that really could be said about anyone: there is a time to play and there is just a time to grow up. In other words: point a finger at oneself before trying to point it at others for one's situation, particularly ones self-created. One has seen self-determination in plenty of movies before, but one is interested to see it play out here with Singleton seemingly reacting to his previous film spent in the neighborhood with an older and wiser perspective (ten years, if you will). Gibson carries the film and the plight that comes with trying to have life both ways between man and "baby boy" with a natural style that generates curiosity in the dilemma presented without being used as a tool for easy blame. Henson proves to be a compelling match with Gibson in terms of gripping charm and interest that threads the needle of the determination angle with that waver in passion in trying to build the edges of a defined family. Snoop Dogg was not too unfamiliar with film, as he had appeared in a handful of roles over the past decade before release while being more known as a rapping icon. At any rate, he does well with a menacing role that comes into focus after everyone else has been introduced and makes the most of it. True, Gibson is interesting as the star. But honestly the highlight is Rhames, who practically steals the show away with his charisma that glows in well-meaning care that has engaging chemistry with Johnson. Each shows the presence of weary folks who only hope to see at least one youth spring from their parental nest without having to rip them out the hard way. Gooding provides the withered edge of a man trying to find redemption that pairs nicely with Gibson. By the time the film maneuvers itself towards resolution, it generally has managed to stick the landing points in confrontation (of course, one can see where the film touches on some of the same beats as Boyz n the Hood, particularly with having climatic decisions with two adults featuring a wordless conversation). It sometimes veers a bit in repetition, but it never dulls the senses with cheap tricks or moments that take you away from its neighborhood. The film was a fair hit on release, making $30 million on release (on a $16 million budget); two decades later, one can still see where the appeal still lies when it comes to this film, because it deserves a proper following with the success it manages to have by the efforts of a director rooted firmly in telling a story for black Americans to engage firmly with.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: Black History Month ends with Summer of Soul (2021).

Friday (1995).

Review #1806: Friday.

Cast: 

Ice Cube (Craig Jones), Chris Tucker (Smokey), Nia Long (Debbie), Bernie Mac (Pastor Clever), Tom Lister Jr (Deebo), John Witherspoon (Willie Jones), Anna Maria Horsford (Betty Jones), Regina King (Dana Jones), Paula Jai Parker (Joi), Faizon Love (Big Worm), DJ Pooh (Red), Anthony Johnson (Ezal), Tony Cox (Mr. Parker), Kathleen Bradley (Mrs. Parker), Yvette Wilson (Rita), and Angela Means (Felisha) Directed by F. Gary Gray (#517 - Be Cool)

Review: 

"I didn’t grow up studying Orson Welles. All the greats, I learned about them after the fact, because I had already started making movies, and I was embarrassed to do interviews where they would bring up these great filmmakers and I wouldn’t know any of them."

It's interesting to consider the trajectory of a film director when it comes their debut features, black or white. Of course, this is a bit of window dressing to demonstrate the interesting lines one can take with showing the talents of a fresh director that made their debut in their mid-twenties about growing up in Los Angeles. Last year we covered John Singleton and his debut with Boyz n the Hood (1991), but now we turn our eyes to another side of a film set in the neighborhoods of Los Angeles and the debut of F. Gary Gray. He had been born in New York City, but he was raised in South Los Angeles. Strangely enough, when he planned to become a filmmaker at the age of 16, he thought it would take him until he was 45 to make his first feature. He started work as a camera operator right out of high school (he also had a bit role in Major League (1989)) before getting his chance to hone directing skills with music videos, most notably directing the 1993 video for "It Was a Good Day" (sung by Ice Cube). Friday would be the first of ten films that Gray has directed, ones with varying genres (on purpose) that have generally been audience favorites, such as Set It Off (1996) and Straight Outta Compton (2015). The film was written by Ice Cube and DJ Pooh, both natives of Los Angeles. Pooh was a record producer and mixing engineer, producing albums with several legendary rappers (such as LL Cool J and 2Pac). Cube had starred in Boyz n the Hood (1991), and he wanted to make what he called a "hood classic", one that would take experiences he had growing up in his block that would serve as a counter-act to the perception of South Central as just a violent place to live in, depicted in films such as the aforementioned Boyz and Menace II Society (1993). Cube, who grew up with films such as the Cheech and Chong films, Car Wash (1976) and Hollywood Shuffle (1987), had his choices of inspiration when it came to wanting to make a comedy (incidentally, Singleton was the one who encouraged him to take up writing scripts), and Gray expressed interest before the script was even done; New Line Cinema was interested in making the film with Cube as a star, although they wanted someone with more experience for the second lead role (Pooh was initially slated to play the role) - Chris Rock and Tommy Davidson were initially considered the role before Tucker (who had exactly one film credit with House Party 3 and performances on Def Comedy Jam) was tapped to do the film.

The twenty-day shoot for $3.5 million turned out a hit on release. It would inspire two sequels: Next Friday (2000) and Friday After Next (2002) alongside an animated series that ran for a couple of months in 2007. Gray and Cube managed to make a buddy film of the hood with 91 minutes of casual warmth that has a resourceful cast (either experienced in film or not) and the right type of atmosphere fit for a coming-of-age movie. It lounges around without becoming a shell for cheap jokes (i.e. saying vulgar words is fun, but it isn't just one roll of them for a movie), which works well for a film with a majority of improvisation. Cube and Tucker make a capable pair together, since they match each other well when it comes to repertoire that is free-flowing, with Cube's casual engagement mixing in with the high-laced energy from Tucker (who elected not to star in the sequels for religious reasons). Lister (nicknamed "Tiny" but also known as "Zeus" when dabbling in wrestling) had been a shot-put champion in college before turning to acting, primarily as a "heavy", with this being his most noted role, and he makes the most of it with an imposing goon nature that can draw a chuckle or a curious eye. Long provides the soothing contrast to some of the proceedings. Even the folks with one or two scenes are still interesting. Bernie Mac plays a pastor with the right sense of flighty hypocrisy, while Cox chases him with zippy energy to go with a briefly electric Bradley to make one amusing triangle for a scene. Witherspoon pulls in the eccentric angle with the right touch of familiarity that makes his moments with Cube just right. The climax is a bit sudden, for which Gray reflected grounds the film but done with "inelegant" execution, but the movie manages to stay on the level when it comes to showing the different degrees of what one defines is a man when it comes to confronting a challenge with a choice that doesn't need a soapbox. Whether one is interested in the sequels or not is fine, because the film holds well on its own. As a whole, Friday is an engaging comedy with plenty of interesting moments spent in a neighborhood that Cube and Gray have re-created from their memories to result in a casual classic. 

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: Baby Boy.

The Bingo Long Traveling All-Stars & Motor Kings.

Review #1805: The Bingo Long Traveling All-Stars & Motor Kings.

Cast: 

Billy Dee Williams (Bingo Long [P]), James Earl Jones (Leon Carter, All-Star [C]), Richard Pryor (Charlie Snow, All-Star [RF] / "Carlos Nevada" / "Chief Takahoma"), Stan Shaw ("Esquire Joe" Calloway, An All-Star [CF]), Tony Burton (Issac, All-Star [CF]), Rico Dawson (Willie Lee Shively, All-Star [RF]), Sam "Birmingham" Brison (Louis Keystone, All-Star [SS]), Jophery Brown (Emory "Champ" Chambers, All-Star [3B]), Leon Wagner (Sam "Fat Sam" Popper, All-Star [1B]), John McCurry (Walter Murchman, All-Star [LF]), DeWayne Jessie (Rainbow, All-Star [Batboy]), Ted Ross (Sallison Potter [Owner]), Mabel King (Bertha Dewitt [Owner]), Ken Foree (Honey), and Carl Gordon (Mack) Directed by John Badham (#088 - Short Circuit, #1293 - Dracula (1979), #1456 - Saturday Night Fever, #1610 - WarGames)

Review: 

If you didn't already know about the Negro leagues when it comes to baseball, you really should. Oh sure, I will get to the review of the film soon, but I figured that this matched perfectly with this particular month in black history. Baseball, as we all know, is a great game. However, it was not a perfect game when it came to handling color, as the line between white and black players arose in the late 19th century that excluded the latter from league play. In 1887, the first black league was created, but independent play was the norm until the 20th century. In 1920, the Negro National League was formed by the legendary pitcher/manager Rube Foster, and it became the first definitive major league for black baseball. Six other leagues would come and go in the next two decades that featured many great players and managers all across the country, such as Satchel Paige, Josh Gibson, Willie Wells, Turkey Stearnes, Candy Jim Taylor, Vic Harris, and plenty more. Integration of Major League Baseball occurred in 1947 with Jackie Robinson and Larry Doby, which turned the Negro leagues into a barnstorming unit (most notably with the Indianapolis Clowns); Robinson would be the first black player to become a member of the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1962, but it was only nine years later that a committee was formed to induct players that were involved in the Negro leagues, starting with Paige. Although numerous great players have been honored from this era, it was only in 2021 that MLB made a decision to recognize those seven leagues as major leagues. To tie all this together with how Negro league baseball inspired folks, consider the fact that John Badham grew up in Birmingham, Alabama, where the Black Barons played in the era. Badham (in his directorial debut) seemed like the ideal director to adapt the 1973 novel of the same name that was written by William Brashler. Hal Barwood and Matthew Robbins did the screenplay for the film, while Berry Gordy (known for his work in Motown Records) served as one of the producers.

Honestly, there are ingredients for a great piece of entertainment, one that could have really been a tremendous period comedy that took inspiration from the famous names that starred in the Negro leagues. Some of this is present here when it comes to antics reminiscent of players such as Paige (who liked to call in the outfield in an inning to strike out the side on occasion) and Gibson (a power-hitting catcher) with a little bit of Jackie Robinson (of course, the film is set in 1939, which makes the ending of the film curiously out-of-place). Of course, by the time one finishes its 110-minute runtime, they will find a film that is...more of a long single rather than a home run, shall we say. It might sound dissapointing, but one does want a bit more from a baseball movie than just one that plays for a few laughs. There is something begging to be told about the story of players who toil to make a few bucks while dealing with both the realities of that time in America, but one seems to see more antics than foundational points. The baseball action is also just okay, since a good deal of it is meant to be charming in the style of the Harlem Globetrotters than say, The Pride of the Yankees. Charming, sure, but one can see where perspective might have helped when it comes to seeing people struggle to make a living within segregated baseball. 

At least one can say Williams and Jones are at their best here. Incidentally, Williams, who grew up in New York City, used to watch Negro league (and Cuban) players play in Central Park before he developed dreams of becoming a painter and actor. He proves engaging in a charming role filled with confidence that is quite infectious. Jones accompanies him with solid chemistry while essentially playing the straight man in a film with a handful of chuckles to go around, which works fine for him. Pryor is technically the third star of the film, even if he really only has four scenes to show for it, with two of them involving him impersonating a Cuban and Native American. He does fine schtick, I guess. Shaw does fine as the essential leader of the supporting cast (which includes a dwarf ballplayer), while Ross seems suited for more scenes to chew on as the heel (King is also interesting, but she is mainly used for a one-note joke). To me, the movie is most interesting when one sees the baseball diamond and the history it invites more than a few sly jokes (the firecracker bit being the best), but it generally manages to be charming enough to make the final result worth it. With a suitable cast and a fair foundation behind it, I would say this makes for a decent baseball movie and decent one to pick out for encouraging further research in black history.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: Friday.

The Spook Who Sat by the Door.

Review #1804: The Spook Who Sat by the Door.

Cast:

Lawrence Cook (Dan Freeman), Janet League (Joy), Paula Kelly (Dahomey Queen), J. A. Preston (Dawson), Paul Butler (Dean "Do-Daddy Dean"), Don Blakely ("Stud" Davis), David Lemieux (Willie "Pretty Willie"), Jack Aaron (Carstairs), Joseph Mascolo (Senator Hennington), Elaine Aiken (Mrs. Hennington), Beverly Gill (Willa), Bob Hill (Calhoun), and Martin Golar (Perkins) Directed by Ivan Dixon.

Review: 

In the end, some movies are just star-crossed. Ivan Dixon made only two films as a director, and this was the last one. Trouble Man (1972), a blaxploitation thriller, had been his debut feature after having started acting in the 1950s, where he worked it theater, television, and film. He is best known for his role in the film Nothing But a Man (1964) and his role in the TV series Hogan's Heroes (1965-70). From 1970 until his retirement in 1993, he would serve as a television director for a number of television shows; he died in 2008 at the age of 76. The film is adapted from the 1969 novel of the same name by Sam Greenlee. The Chicago native had studied political science at the University of Wisconsin-Madison before serving as an officer in both the United States Army and the United States Information Agency (1957-1965) before quitting to dedicate his time to writing. However, with this book, he went through a bit of trouble in getting the book published (he described the experiences in the USIA as identical to the ones depicted to the main character in his book). Apparently, years later he was told by a former FBI recruit that the book was now required reading at the FBI Academy. Greenlee believed that the film was pulled from theaters shortly after its release as a suppression by the FBI (United Artists did not exactly take kindly to it either as distributor); he wrote one further novel before spending time around the world along with teaching screenwriting and talk-radio before his death in 2014 at the age of 84. He lived long enough to see the film finally get a proper release on home video, since it did not receive a release on home video (DVD) until 2004, for which one can thank Tim Reid for finding the negative (packed under a false name by Dixon). Even finding a location to film was a trouble, since the novel was set in Chicago, Illinois, which at that time had Richard J. Daley as Mayor, five years removed from his dubious attempt at presenting the city as a shining achievement with the 1968 Democratic National Convention (incidentally, only his son would exceed his 21-year run as mayor, complete with allegations of corruption just like his father), so Gary, Indiana was chosen for filming. One might be curious about the meaning of "spook", and it is a slang word for espionage alongside a racial slur. The film was written by Melvin Clay and Sam Greenlee while Herbie Hancock (a famed jazz pianist) provided the music.

Keep in mind, Greenlee wanted to show a message of how urban guerilla warfare could be utilized to protect black communities. In fact, most of the $1 million budget would come from black investors. Dixon would only direct one other film before he retired from filmmaking, but he was proud about the film for expressing everything he felt about race. It is a strange thing that this film did not become more popular in a decade when Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song (1971), a film lauded by the Black Panthers as the "first truly revolutionary Black film made" was allowed to flourish (incidentally, that film was rated X while this was given a PG rating). Of course, one may be able to make a film about militancy but making one with anti-establishment ideals to go with that...is not as easy; of course, a television adaptation of the book is planned for release, so there is that. I applaud the efforts of Dixon when it comes to making a fascinating and provocative film in the power of community that strikes with careful precision in building its radical foundation without becoming a pastiche of cliches with easy outs (i.e. it is quite diverting without becoming melodrama-orama). As it would stand, this ended up being the most notable film credit for Cook amidst a handful of film roles. He does quite well in terms in pressurized charm that works the tight rope of determination and restraint. Kelly proves the curiosity in a role that is present for just the start and near-climax, which results in quality moments with Cook (League on the other hand is there to show just what one is missing in chemistry between two adults). Preston is the authority figure destined for conflict that we know is inevitable, but it doesn't make his scenes with Cook any less engaging, since they make a quality pair between the parallels in friends with distinct beliefs. The movie hits most of its marks when it comes to carefully planned moments of satire with regards to the reaction to hypocrisy in the name of affirming action by white people. Of course, the film presents the best way to get back at the system by turning it into a guerilla nightmare, one not just based on hatred for white people (as mentioned in one scene with Cook and Lemieux, who is utilized as "white-passing" member of their group for propaganda). The 102-minute run-time is efficient enough without becoming outright fantasy while having a punching end-sequence to go with it. As a whole, movies like this deserve a look because of just what manages to land in terms of impact in terms of viewpoints and execution, particularly ones that did not get a fair shake back in its day. Nearly a half-century, one can see where we have moved from in the 1970s and where we still have to go in the 2020s when it comes to what it means to be free.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: The Bingo Long Traveling All-Stars & Motor Kings (1976)

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).

Black Girl (1972)

Review #1802: Black Girl. 

Cast: 

Brock Peters (Earl), Claudia McNeil (Mu'Dear), Leslie Uggams (Netta), Louise Stubbs (Mama Rosie), Peggy Pettitt (Billie Jean), Gloria Edwards (Norma Faye), Loretta Greene (Ruth Ann), Ruby Dee (Netta's Mother), and Kent Martin (Herbert) Directed by Ossie Davis (#1635 - Cotton Comes to Harlem)

Review: 

Admittedly, it might be surprising that not only are there two films called Black Girl (1966, 1972), it is the non-American feature that is the well-known film (one that would likely be suitable for another time among its world cinema counterparts). But the 1972 film shouldn't be forgotten in the discussion of black family dramas, one that features a fairly solid group cast in a film wrapped in complications. This was the second feature film directed by Ossie Davis, who ended up doing five features all in the decade of the 1970s (this one, unlike Cotton Comes to Harlem, was made independently with distribution by Cinerama Releasing Corporation). The film is an adaptation of the television production/play of the same name by J. E. Franklin. It was made on television first by WGBH Boston '(for On Being Black, a PBS television show) in 1969 before it premiered Off-Broadway in New York City theater in 1971 (Uggams, Stubbs, Edwards, and Greene reprise their roles from the production); Franklin wrote the screenplay for the film, shot in Venice in Los Angeles County. Incidentally, one of the stars of this film in McNeil was featured prominently in the famous stage/film production A Raisin in the Sun (1959/1961).

One has to consider the consortium of castmates involved with varying levels of film experience. Peters had the most film role experience among the main group of actors, since he had acted in a handful of films since 1954 while also dabbling into singing. McNeil acted primarily in television, with this being the last of her four film roles in a career that spanned a few decades (in a strange coincidence that seems to tie the month together, she was inspired to get into acting by Ethel Waters). This was the first major film role for Uggams, a Harlem native who had been involved in show business since she was a child that had resulted in starring roles on Broadway (with a Tony Award in 1967) and television. Stubbs & Edwards appeared in just three films while Greene had two roles (obviously there is Dee, but her role is silent). The result for the film is a fairly effective experience of seeing all the emotions spill out of a family wrapped by self-hatred (or if you want to put it bluntly, losers). Black, white, whatever color one is, the experience of a family wrapped in turmoil is not something limited to just one view when it comes to cinema (television too, but there are differences), because the suffering of life is universal. It is a bit shaky, but the actors are fairly adept at keeping it just above theater-level in useful tension despite a foundation that is sometimes uneven (in getting to the point, mostly). I guess if you prefer movies with feminine leads in a non-action/comedic genre, this might be just up your alley (I'm fine with most stuff, but I can understand the preference for something like Coffy when it comes to black female-lead 70s films).

As it stands, this is the first and only film for Pettitt. She graduated from Antioch College with a bachelor's degree the year after this film and soon moved to London under a fellowship grant. She has continued to work on the stage and as a playwright. It is a tough role for any actress to consider, since it is comprised of reacting to the three-woman front of doubt and indignity and dance, and she makes the best of it. Peters may be billed first, but in reality, he is only in the film for twenty minutes, for which the scene with Stubbs in the park is probably the highlight scene when it comes to the power of showing the fractured family dynamic within memories. Stubbs is a quality foil to Pettitt when it comes to strong parental presences. McNeil is the underlying tie full of crisp charm, while Edwards & Greene serve as tools of spite that work to a point while Uggams has a wedge-size of time that goes okay in serving as the contrast between the others without becoming a high-and-mighty snob. As a whole, the film presents its drama with cloying accuracy when it comes to seeing sniping on screen between people mired in the muck of broken families without finding easy resolutions. It makes for a decent movie (complete with an appropriately ambiguous ending) that deserves a curious look for those in the mindset for that kind of movie with a serviceable director at the helm.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: Ganja & Hess.

Come Back, Charleston Blue.

Review #1801: Come Back, Charleston Blue.

Cast: 

Godfrey Cambridge (Detective "Gravedigger" Jones), Raymond St. Jacques (Detective Ed "Coffin Ed" Johnson), Peter Deanda (Joe Painter), Percy Rodriguez (Bryce), Jonelle Allen (Carol), Maxwell Glanville (Caspar), Minnie Gentry (Her Majesty), Dick Sabol (Jarema), and Leonardo Cimino (Frank Mago) Directed by Mark Warren.

Review: 

If you remember, Cotton Comes to Harlem (1970) was an interesting film for its time, one that is debatably one of the first blaxploitation films made. It was an adaptation of the Chester Himes novel of the same name that was the sixth of a series of novels Himes made involving two Harlem detectives (Grave Digger Jones & Coffin Ed) in the 1950s/1960s, one that dealt with tough cops trying to combat violent criminals, drug dealers, and pimps in their own ways (this is a trope one could identify in a variety of "loose cannon" detective media). Ossie Davis directed a fairly effective piece of entertainment with a crop of worthy talent and some interesting moments that generated some thrills and amusement. Two years later, a sequel would follow. Serving as sequel director is Mark Warren, primarily known for his television work rather than his three features, for which this was his first one (the most prevalent show he directed was Rowan & Martin's Laugh-In from 1969 to 1972). It was the time where black action movies had the chance to have follow-up films, with examples ranging from They Call Me Mister Tibbs! (the 1970 sequel to In the Heat of the Night, which had another follow-up the next year), Shaft's Big Score! (1972, followed by another film the next year), Super Fly T.N.T. (the 1973 sequel to Super Fly), while other films decided to avoid the sequel route due to the belief that sequels made less money than if one simply retained the lead actor and just did a similar story (Coffy followed by Foxy Brown, for example). The film was an adaptation of the book The Heat's On. This film was written by Ernest Kinoy and Peggy Elliott (the former is listed as "Bontche Schweig", incidentally).

You may be wondering what exactly is "Charleston Blue". Well, the film states he was a famed Harlem gangster that liked to cut throats with elegant razors made in Charleston that apparently went missing when he tried to take down gangster Dutch Schultz in the late 1930s (as told by a fortune-teller and numbers "Majesty", naturally)...and four decades later someone is taking mobsters down while leaving those razors at the crime scene. Well, really it is a ploy by someone to take over the drug trade from the Mafia, but that sometimes gets forgotten when you are seeing a variety of odd moments, such as one guy playing basketball and dunking the ball...right before he gets machine gunned to death. Oh, and folks getting killed by bombs thrown at them. And a man dressing up in a nun costume. I think it is played more for comedy this time around, although one knows the earlier film did play itself for comedy at times (the last one had Redd Foxx, remember), with the easiest example being the slapstick sequence involving a fight at a place with newly installed ping pong tables. Granted, it does have cynicism over the pursuit of advancement for certain figures trying to drive out white figures only so they can have it for themselves. The lead characters are tough on certain crime, particularly when it comes to people in their community being used. Cambridge and St. Jacques are in quality form in relation to how they handle the procedural action alongside sly comic lines or visual moments like having to dispose of their guns to the police captain (all of them). It's a shame that this was the last one they made together (more sad that Cambridge died a couple of years later of a sudden heart attack). Deanda makes for a fair adversary in terms of casual craven hypocrisy that isn't too overshadowed by the rest of the eccentric characters (but hey, who isn't when it comes to procedurals with distinct characters). By the time it gets to its climax involving graveyards (well, the second one with graves), it makes for fair action that doesn't waver too much in believability or in the aspect of depicting Harlem with an assortment of characters worth seeing. While the film is a notch below the original in terms of overall composition, it does handle its 100-minute run-time with enough charm to make it worth a viewing for folks who admire hard-boiled entertainment with both tension and humor.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: Black Girl.

The Learning Tree.

Review #1800: The Learning Tree.

Cast: 

Kyle Johnson (Newt Winger), Alex Clarke (Marcus Savage), Estelle Evans (Sarah Winger), Mira Waters (Arcella Jefferson), George Mitchell (Jake Kiner), Richard Ward (Booker Savage), Malcolm Atterbury (Silas Newhall), Russell Thorson (Judge Cavanaugh), Zooey Hall (Chauncey Cavanaugh), Dana Elcar (Sheriff Kirky), Felix Nelson (Jack Winger), and Joel Fluellen (Uncle Rob) Written, Producted, and Directed by Gordon Parks (#610 - Shaft (1971) and #1045 - Shaft's Big Score!)

Review: 

It should only makes sense that the summer of '69 would see the first studio film to be directed, written, produced, and composed by an African American director, one released by Warner Bros.-Seven Arts (as the company was known from 1967-69) with Gordon Parks being the key man for the job, and he would hire as many black technicians as he could to do the film (as opposed to utilizing all-white unions in Hollywood) in a decision supported by the studio. It is an adaptation of his 1963 novel of the same name, one that was loosely based on his upbringing in Fort Scott, Kansas (the son of a farmer, one of a group of African Americans that migrated to Kansas that is referred to as the "Exodusters"). Elements of the novel/his life are present here, such as the fact that one of his high school teachers told him that going to college would be a waste of money (he was the youngest of fifteen children, incidentally). Parks was born in 1912, and he had to fend for survival after he moved to Minnesota shortly after his mother's death at the age of fourteen, which led him to work in various positions such as piano player, singer and bus boy. It was at the age of 25 that he became interested in his first career: photography. He would work in a variety of positions from freelance work to fashion to work with the government (such as the Farm Security Administration and the Office of War Information). Consider that Parks did not become a film director until he was nearly sixty years old. In the course of his life, he would be noted as a pioneer for black filmmakers (one who made five feature films from 1969 to 1976) alongside his other talents in photography and music before his death in 2006 at the age of 93.

Within its coming-of-age story is a tender experience that manages to tell a worthwhile story without falling prey to turning into sentimental goo; it wasn't the first black film based on one's personal experience (The Homesteader (1919) is one example, although Oscar Micheaux's film is lost), but it certainly has a key place when it came to the next phase of American cinema in regards to black filmmaking when talking about facing harsh realities and developing self-determination (which would be done over and over again in later years with other memoir films). As one might expect, this film was shot in his home state of Kansas, with principal location shooting being done around his own hometown; of course, Warner Bros.-Seven Arts did send studio folks out to check on the production from time to time to keep things on track, and there was lingering friction between some of his contemporaries in the town and Parks before it was shot in 1968. As the lead actor Johnson (the son of Nichelle Nichols) had been acting for nine years before he was cast in this film, which would be his first main starring role as a seventeen-year-old actor, and Parks had him undergo four screen tests that actually gauged the abilities of the other actors as opposed to him (as it would turn out, this ended up being the role he is best known for). He works quite well here, as we see him carry a story of learning with an earthy charm that keeps the film working through its episodic pace with no bumps in the road. Clarke (also in a key role that he is remembered for more than anything) makes a fair adversary, one who represents the other side of the coin in terms of differing points when it comes to growing up as a black man facing the realities of the time (Kansas in the 1920s) that makes the inevitable confrontation all the more interesting. Evans, Nelson, and Ward all represent distinct parental figures to the characters in worthy effectiveness. The film manages to roll with a story of hard learning with bittersweet effectiveness that works to viewers familiar with stories that had been told for decades prior (this time with a black voice) without falling prey to corny cliches. As such, it manages to hold up well after five decades as both a worthy debut for Parks and a worthy piece of African American cinema that should be seen at least once.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: Come Back, Charleston Blue.

Carib Gold.

Review #1799: Carib Gold.

Cast:  

Ethel Waters (Mom), Coley Wallace (Ryan), Peter Dawson (Neely), Cecil Cunningham (Barb), William T. Hill (Cap), George Renna (Bartender), Cicely Tyson (Dottie), Diana Sands (Bar Girl), Richard Ward (Lechock), Ruth Sawyer (Baby), Henry Hayward (Willie), and Geoffrey Holder (Voo Doo Dancer) Directed by Harold Young (#511 - The Three Caballeros)

Review: 

Admittedly, this film might have slipped through the cracks in any other time of day, partly because it is quite obscure. In fact, it was believed to have been lost for decades, since it was a B-movie that had a limited release (playing to segregated audiences in Key West, Florida). The screenplay and story were done by Charles Gossett and D. Lyle Kretsinger, their first and only screenplay; it was the last film directed by Harold Young, a system director if there ever was one (of course, he did direct the live-action sequences of The Three Caballeros, but still). It was shot independently by the Splendora Corporation. But there is something to discover in the curiosity of an integrated cast that features the film debut of four actors: Diana Sands, Cicely Tyson, Diana Sands, Richard Ward and Geoffrey Holder (the latter two had previous experience in television). Ethel Waters is likely the most notable name among the experienced cast, if only because she was a notable presence among Broadway and concerts for jazz and swing to go with acting roles for numerous decades. Of course, Tyson would have a lengthy career of seven decades in film and television, while the detective-turned-actor in Ward had two decades of film/TV roles with his distinct voice, and Holder was just as distinct. Wallace was more known for his amateur boxing career than as an actor, as this was his second of six overall roles (half of them had him play Joe Louis).

Well, there isn't exactly much to grapple with this movie, to be honest. It barely makes the best of its hour, since the story could really be told in probably less than half the time, one mostly shot at the Miami Seaquarium (recently built in 1955, one of the oldest oceanariums still running) and Key West, Florida. All that happens in the film is a mild expedition for gold, a title song done by Waters, one "action scene", a brief chase, voodoo, and a brief confrontation. At least one can't say the film is exploitative, if only because there is barely anything to really exploit in a film that seems lacking in suspense. Even the title song seems more like an obligation than anything. You would think a movie about sunken treasure and greed would be something else, but it is telegraphed very, very, very easily, with one-note folks everywhere you go. Tyson is the character with a mysterious disease, while Ward has an obvious chip on the shoulder, while others are just "there" (Dawson in particular). Heck, the voodoo part seems unnecessary, since it really seems like the chase segment comes to a close by sheer coincidence of the fact that town seems really small to begin with. I suppose the message of the film is something about greed...or fate? Hell, I love that there is a brief scene after the one fight sequence where two characters debate if one should stay inside (having beaten up the villain)...right before an off-screen arrest. Depth is one thing the film has exactly zero of, unless one counts sea action, but it amuses me that you can sometimes see fish swim right by the camera. Honestly, if the film hadn't languished in obscurity to the point of being thought to be lost, it might have just slipped by the radar with nary an objection, because it is really, really average. If you need an hour to kill with a few curious young presences, one could probably do better or worse, so take that for what it is worth.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: The Learning Tree.