Movies Seen: March 19-March 25, 2016
Nixon's the One: The '68 Election (2010) is a pathetic hit job on the already dishonored president. Don't be fooled by the title (Hubert Humphrey gets little mention, as does Robert F. Kennedy), we talk to two biographers who obviously hated their subject (one calls him a con man), Tom Hayden (of all people), and narrator Dick Cavett refers to him as "Tricky Dick" constantly. At fifty-two minutes, it's too short yet mercifully so. When Cavett's dulcet tones lambast "Slick Willy," then we'll talk. Otherwise, I gave this a 1 out of 10.
Pet Shop Boys: Somewhere (1997) is a recorded concert as the electronic music duo played the Savoy Theatre in London. Full of hit songs, and familiar favorites to life-long fans like myself, this a well-shot documentary as well. The stage is small, but PSB's big sound opens it up. I give this a 9 out of 10.
Movies Seen: March 12-March 18, 2016
Do Not Disturb (1965) should be left undisturbed. I read online that Doris Day didn't want to make this stale romantic comedy, and I'm thinking she wasn't the only one. A dated, misogynistic relic, Day plays the good wife to a clothing company executive who decides to make up a lover after suspecting her husband Rod Taylor is fooling around with his assistant. Extended sequences where Day plays drunk, and a "wacky" bedroom farce finale go on too long and are a pain to watch. The editing is a mess, and by the time everyone imitates Day on the dance floor as she tries to shake a piece of food out of her dress (one of the oldest jokes in comedy history), the film lost me. I gave this a 3 out of 10.
The Usual Suspects (1995) is still a crackling good story, simply told. Five criminals are recruited to pull a job in order to repay a mysterious crime boss that each of them unknowingly ripped off. The cast is great across the board, Bryan Singer's direction is imaginative without being show-offy, and Christopher McQuarrie's script deserved the Oscar it won. Any one of the cast could have also won a Supporting Academy Award, but Kevin Spacey's great performance had the luck of the draw. Great stuff, worth a revisit every once in a while. I gave this a 10 out of 10.
Movies Seen: March 5-March 11, 2016
Finding Vivian Maier (2014) is a perfect film. I have had a years-long fascination with hoarding and collecting, wanting to be an appraiser for a number of years a while back. I grew up an Air Force brat, where hoarding was kind of impossible when you have to move every couple of years, and I think that experience has triggered a sort of anti-hoarding behavior in myself. When I do get something, I automatically look to get rid of it. Not because I don't like an object (whether it's a book, or DVD, or dishes...it could be anything), but if I get use out of it and don't need it anymore, I look to sell or donate it. Vivian Maier, a nanny, was a hoarder who moved around the country and kept her hoard with her. A young man, John Maloof, finds a few hundred photograph negatives at an auction that he snaps up for a history paper. He realizes the pictures were taken by this mysterious Maier, and goes about buying her other possessions that were also sold. Soon, this woman's things have taken over Maloof's life. She kept everything. He begins researching her life, not because he is the inadvertent custodian of her estate, but because of those original negatives. Her street photography is stunning. She had a natural gift for capturing a shot, and much of what Maloof and co-director Charlie Siskel show us is fantastic (I dabbled in photography a few years ago, and some of Maier's work floored me). This film is like a mystery, Maloof unfolding the story of this strange woman, warts and all. I saw this on Netflix and wholeheartedly recommend it. On IMDB, a rare 10 out of 10.
The Beast (1977) is something else entirely. Walerian Borowczyk's much-maligned take on the Beauty and the Beast tale is a sexually explicit and unsuccessful film. Some scenes go on too long, his anti-church opinions are on full display, and much of his script seems convenient and odd. I do give him credit for trying to tell a story with the explicit sexual scenes, but I am still looking for that one film that can do it successfully. Opulent locations, and a beautiful (and often nude) leading lady in Lisbeth Hummel keep this from being a completely unwatchable disaster. I gave this a 4 out of 10.
Spectre (2015) completes Daniel Craig as James Bond's story arc that began with "Casino Royale." Here, Bond finds out the source of all of his problems dating back to that film as he investigates the titular crime organization. Craig is still a morose Bond, and I wish Monica Bellucci had a larger role. The biggest problem here is the length of the film. A half hour could have been lost easily. The story is interesting, the production is spectacular, the Oscar-winning title song is okay, and the action sequences are good. As of this writing, Craig may not return to the role, it will be interesting to see what the next film will bring. An 8 out of 10 on IMDB.
Immoral Tales (1976) is the second Borowczyk film I watched this week. Like "The Beast," it is full of nudity and anti-church storylines. Four different tales ranging from the then present-day to the Borgias, De Sade, and Madame Bathory are featured. Not as sexually explicit as "The Beast," this still provides a ton of sex and the "immorality" of the film's title comes through with issues like incest and murder. Once again, the female cast is beautiful and easy on the eyes, and it's hard to remember that what you are seeing is in fact immoral while appreciating the female form. Borowczyk's best film that I have seen is still "Goto, Island of Love," perhaps because it is the least sexually explicit of the three films I have screened so far? Not "great," this gets a 6 out of 10.
Movies Seen: February 26-March 4, 2016
Deadpool (2016) proved something I have known for years: that Ryan Reynolds can have a huge hit. I've been watching him since he was a kid on a Canadian teen soap opera. His comic timing is impeccable, he is a handsome dude the camera loves, and he finally found a franchise that he can play in (and I'm the only person on the planet who didn't hate "Green Lantern"). The quips are non-stop, but while I know it's faithful to the comic book, the violence is stomach-churning. I suppose it has to be to earn the "R" rating, and the cast and screenplay lift this above mindless blood-for-blood's sake, but with all the real world violence happening in the world, sometimes you want a movie to take your mind off of it, not revel in it. Either way, I still gave this a 9 out of 10 on IMDB.
All Good Things (2010) has a nice sense of dread and a fantastic performance by Kirsten Dunst, but still feels like one of those network television mini-series based on a best selling true crime paperback that populated the airwaves in the 1980's. Ryan Gosling has the "weirdo" character down pat, but the third act feels rushed after slogging through the first hour of the film. The direction, and especially the musical score, are very good, and I gave this a grudging 7 out of 10 on IMDB, but I can see why this wasn't more successful considering the cast.
Soaked in Bleach (2015) makes the case that Nirvana singer Kurt Cobain was murdered in 1994, and the rush to deem his death a suicide was a conspiracy involving his wife Courtney Love, and the Seattle Police Department. Private investigator Tom Grant has audio tapes of himself talking with Love, and plenty of compelling evidence that should see the case reopened (although since much of the evidence has been destroyed over the years, I don't think any "findings" would hold up in court). The tapes and incidents are recreated well enough (although "The Arbor," this ain't), and any conspiracy theorist, and grunge rock fan, will want to give this a look. 7 out of 10 on IMDB.
Thursday, April 30, 2026
Scooby-Doo's A Nutcracker Scoob (1998)
With the new live action movie out in theaters, everything with the name "Scooby Doo" on it is turning to gold- or at least selling like gold.
This compilation video is not gold. I sat my five year old son down in front of the television, and we started the hour long videotape. The video features four cartoons altogether, and I have included their individual star ratings at the end of their mini-review:
"A Nutcracker Scoob" features Scooby-Doo, Shaggy, Daphne, Fred, and Scrappy-Doo- Velma is nowhere to be seen on the whole tape except for previews of other videos. The gang are at a children's home where a ghost pops up during rehearsals for "A Christmas Carol," and tries to find a hidden emerald. The supreme red herring suspect appears in the form of one Winslow Nickleby, whose family used to own the building. The guys carry on with the show and catch the real "ghost." This episode is from a later series of Scooby-Doo adventures, and features the most annoying opening theme song and credits ever done. Also, watch for the French maid, and give yourself a quarter if you can understand more than three words she says. The animators also decide to drive their viewers blind: all the backgrounds are shot in very soft focus, but the main characters are sharply defined. My eyes started playing tricks on me, not knowing what to concentrate on. Throw in a doe-eyed orphan named Tiny Tina, who talks to her stuffed bear, Teddy, and you will be wishing for the old days of just plain bad animation. (4/10)
"Alaskan King Coward" has Shaggy, Scooby-Doo, and Scrappy-Doo in the Alaskan tundra, digging for gold. They dig up a frozen monster instead, and spend the rest of the episode running away from it. No mystery, no villain muttering "those meddling kids," just an overdose of the always annoying and unpopular Scrappy Doo. The monster, which looks like a sabre toothed dinosaur, is badly drawn, changing sizes from scene to scene. (4/10)
Next on the tape are two Bonus Cartoons: Squiddly Diddly stars in "The Ghost is Clear." An entertainer squid, he leaves his home at the theme park Bubbleland to play at a child's ghost's birthday party. The child then begins terrorizing him with everything from turning invisible to showing him his basement-dwelling vicious pets. The child's parents look just like Elmer Fudd and Fred Flintstone's mother-in-law, and the child, Wilbur, is given a high pitched grating voice that wreaked havoc on my ears. This is really dull and unfunny, even to my five year old test subject...I mean, son. (2/10)
Finally, The Cartoon Network world premieres Shake and Flick in "Raw Deal in Rome." Shake is a dog, Flick is a flea, and they both make like Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner, as Shake tries to entertain some Romans while Flick tries to get in his fur and bite him. Soon, they are introducing fighter jets and nuclear warheads into the battle, making you wonder why this thing was set in ancient Rome in the first place. This was a little gory as well, as Shake as the ability to shed his skin and muscles in one scene. This is the kind of cartoon "The Simpsons" makes fun of on their "The Itchy and Scratchy Show" blood drenched cartoons. One funny scene: Shake's ride up the elevator. (4/10)
All in all, my five year old was entertained, and that is important, but I was bored silly. I used to love Scooby-Doo as a kid, and the original series' episodes still have a charm about them that subsequent series (and, apparently, the live action film) are not able to recapture. The Christmas angle of the tape is tenuous. You have the Christmas-themed first episode, but just a brief Santa Claus sighting in the second episode, and nothing to connect to Christmas in the bonus cartoons. Children may like this, but adults beware. I cannot recommend this video.
This compilation video is not gold. I sat my five year old son down in front of the television, and we started the hour long videotape. The video features four cartoons altogether, and I have included their individual star ratings at the end of their mini-review:
"A Nutcracker Scoob" features Scooby-Doo, Shaggy, Daphne, Fred, and Scrappy-Doo- Velma is nowhere to be seen on the whole tape except for previews of other videos. The gang are at a children's home where a ghost pops up during rehearsals for "A Christmas Carol," and tries to find a hidden emerald. The supreme red herring suspect appears in the form of one Winslow Nickleby, whose family used to own the building. The guys carry on with the show and catch the real "ghost." This episode is from a later series of Scooby-Doo adventures, and features the most annoying opening theme song and credits ever done. Also, watch for the French maid, and give yourself a quarter if you can understand more than three words she says. The animators also decide to drive their viewers blind: all the backgrounds are shot in very soft focus, but the main characters are sharply defined. My eyes started playing tricks on me, not knowing what to concentrate on. Throw in a doe-eyed orphan named Tiny Tina, who talks to her stuffed bear, Teddy, and you will be wishing for the old days of just plain bad animation. (4/10)
"Alaskan King Coward" has Shaggy, Scooby-Doo, and Scrappy-Doo in the Alaskan tundra, digging for gold. They dig up a frozen monster instead, and spend the rest of the episode running away from it. No mystery, no villain muttering "those meddling kids," just an overdose of the always annoying and unpopular Scrappy Doo. The monster, which looks like a sabre toothed dinosaur, is badly drawn, changing sizes from scene to scene. (4/10)
Next on the tape are two Bonus Cartoons: Squiddly Diddly stars in "The Ghost is Clear." An entertainer squid, he leaves his home at the theme park Bubbleland to play at a child's ghost's birthday party. The child then begins terrorizing him with everything from turning invisible to showing him his basement-dwelling vicious pets. The child's parents look just like Elmer Fudd and Fred Flintstone's mother-in-law, and the child, Wilbur, is given a high pitched grating voice that wreaked havoc on my ears. This is really dull and unfunny, even to my five year old test subject...I mean, son. (2/10)
Finally, The Cartoon Network world premieres Shake and Flick in "Raw Deal in Rome." Shake is a dog, Flick is a flea, and they both make like Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner, as Shake tries to entertain some Romans while Flick tries to get in his fur and bite him. Soon, they are introducing fighter jets and nuclear warheads into the battle, making you wonder why this thing was set in ancient Rome in the first place. This was a little gory as well, as Shake as the ability to shed his skin and muscles in one scene. This is the kind of cartoon "The Simpsons" makes fun of on their "The Itchy and Scratchy Show" blood drenched cartoons. One funny scene: Shake's ride up the elevator. (4/10)
All in all, my five year old was entertained, and that is important, but I was bored silly. I used to love Scooby-Doo as a kid, and the original series' episodes still have a charm about them that subsequent series (and, apparently, the live action film) are not able to recapture. The Christmas angle of the tape is tenuous. You have the Christmas-themed first episode, but just a brief Santa Claus sighting in the second episode, and nothing to connect to Christmas in the bonus cartoons. Children may like this, but adults beware. I cannot recommend this video.
Tuesday, April 28, 2026
Pet Shop Boys: Videography (1991)
This collection of eighteen music videos is wonderful for any fan of either the Pet Shop Boys or British pop music in general. Back in the age of Fred Durst and Pearl Jam slaughtering older songs ("Faith" and "Last Kiss", respectively), Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe actually improved on the songs they remade with a clean sound and great lyrics. This features the videos until 1991, and does not include any from the albums released after that.
1. West End Girls (Directed by Eric Watson and Andy Morahan)
The Boys' biggest hit and a good video. They shot in London, which made me homesick for England. I spent three months there in the early nineties, and always wanted to get back until the country started declining.
2. Love Comes Quickly (Directed by Eric Watson and Andy Morahan)
Great, shadowy visuals highlight an underrated dark ballad; this could still pass as a video just shot last week.
3. Opportunities (Let's Make Lots of Money) (Directed by Eric Watson and Andy Morahan)
A whimsical song given a bizarre video treatment as Tennant, looking Amish in glasses and hat, is sunk into the floor of a parking garage, and sings while decomposing in some shots. Weird.
4. Suburbia (Directed by Eric Watson) Suburbs, dogs, and an abandoned city bus. Nice video, watch for the TV screen that is playing the alternate version video to "Opportunities (Let's Make Lots of Money).
5. It's a Sin (Directed by Derek Jarman)
It is a sin to have to watch the Boys uncomfortably go through the paces of hoods, trials, and goofy makeup. One of the weakest videos on the compilation.
6. What Have I Done to Deserve This? (Directed by Eric Watson)
Mix Dusty Springfield and some backstage Vegas-like chorus girls, and this video will have you interested. Tennant and Lowe look like they are having fun performing with the sorely missed Springfield, who is fantastic.
7. Rent (Directed by Derek Jarman)
Another failure from Jarman has a dark song given a bunch of video cliches (slow motion, silly resolution, etc.). Liza Minnelli remade this song as a ballad much better on her "Results" album, produced by Tennant and Lowe.
8. Always on My Mind (Directed by Jack Bond)
Surreal video from the Boys' surreal motion picture debut. Better song than Willie Nelson made, but Joss Ackland crooning along kind of brings everything down.
9. Heart (Directed by Jack Bond)
The worst video here has a Nosferatu story as Tennant and newlywed are haunted by a lovestruck vampire. Weak bat effect spoils already average effort.
10. Domino Dancing (Directed by Eric Watson)
Two Latino men fight over one gorgeous girl while a tanned Tennant croons. Sunny locations, and when our little female side of our love triangle appears in a vinyl dress, I was ready to break out the Armor-All and a chamois. Wow!
11. Left to My Own Devices (Directed by Eric Watson)
Good song is shot looking above through a glass ceiling at performers. Weird angle loses interest after awhile, but Lowe and Tennant move more here than in almost any other video.
12. It's Alright (Directed by Eric Watson)
This is the song you sometimes hear on car ads. It is really about how the world might end at any time, but Tennant and Lowe sing to a collection of some cute babies, all shot in crisp black and white. A fun video.
13. So Hard (Directed by Eric Watson)
Another mild hit has more black and white in a depressing little video about infidelity. Nothing really stands out.
14. Being Boring (Directed by Bruce Weber) The Pet Shop Boys' best song and best video, as done by a leading photographer. Black and white, as assorted teens get ready for a party. This will make you nostalgic for youth, when the most important thing you had were your friends. Some nudity, but it only serves to heighten your emotions. Excellent.
15. How Can You Expect To Be Taken Seriously? (Directed by Liam Kan)
The version of this song on their album was a little peppier, but the video is funny. The song concerns all those megalomaniacal performers with their pet causes and yes men.
16. Where the Streets Have No Name (I Can't Take My Eyes Off You) (Directed by Liam Kan)
Who else would have thought to mix the two title songs into a giant, coloring book-bright remake? Strong video, with cheering crowds over Tennant's vocals.
17. Jealousy (Directed by Eric Watson)
Lush video also deals with infidelity, leading to violence in a restaurant as Tennant croons away. Gorgeous to look at.
18. DJ Culture (Directed by Eric Watson)
Really weird video as Tennant dresses like Oscar Wilde, and cross dressing Queen Victorias mix with a soccer match. Wild to watch.
I have been a long time fan of the Pet Shop Boys, and I have always enjoyed their videos, even though MTV did not play them anymore. I highly recommend this collection.
1. West End Girls (Directed by Eric Watson and Andy Morahan)
The Boys' biggest hit and a good video. They shot in London, which made me homesick for England. I spent three months there in the early nineties, and always wanted to get back until the country started declining.
2. Love Comes Quickly (Directed by Eric Watson and Andy Morahan)
Great, shadowy visuals highlight an underrated dark ballad; this could still pass as a video just shot last week.
3. Opportunities (Let's Make Lots of Money) (Directed by Eric Watson and Andy Morahan)
A whimsical song given a bizarre video treatment as Tennant, looking Amish in glasses and hat, is sunk into the floor of a parking garage, and sings while decomposing in some shots. Weird.
4. Suburbia (Directed by Eric Watson) Suburbs, dogs, and an abandoned city bus. Nice video, watch for the TV screen that is playing the alternate version video to "Opportunities (Let's Make Lots of Money).
5. It's a Sin (Directed by Derek Jarman)
It is a sin to have to watch the Boys uncomfortably go through the paces of hoods, trials, and goofy makeup. One of the weakest videos on the compilation.
6. What Have I Done to Deserve This? (Directed by Eric Watson)
Mix Dusty Springfield and some backstage Vegas-like chorus girls, and this video will have you interested. Tennant and Lowe look like they are having fun performing with the sorely missed Springfield, who is fantastic.
7. Rent (Directed by Derek Jarman)
Another failure from Jarman has a dark song given a bunch of video cliches (slow motion, silly resolution, etc.). Liza Minnelli remade this song as a ballad much better on her "Results" album, produced by Tennant and Lowe.
8. Always on My Mind (Directed by Jack Bond)
Surreal video from the Boys' surreal motion picture debut. Better song than Willie Nelson made, but Joss Ackland crooning along kind of brings everything down.
9. Heart (Directed by Jack Bond)
The worst video here has a Nosferatu story as Tennant and newlywed are haunted by a lovestruck vampire. Weak bat effect spoils already average effort.
10. Domino Dancing (Directed by Eric Watson)
Two Latino men fight over one gorgeous girl while a tanned Tennant croons. Sunny locations, and when our little female side of our love triangle appears in a vinyl dress, I was ready to break out the Armor-All and a chamois. Wow!
11. Left to My Own Devices (Directed by Eric Watson)
Good song is shot looking above through a glass ceiling at performers. Weird angle loses interest after awhile, but Lowe and Tennant move more here than in almost any other video.
12. It's Alright (Directed by Eric Watson)
This is the song you sometimes hear on car ads. It is really about how the world might end at any time, but Tennant and Lowe sing to a collection of some cute babies, all shot in crisp black and white. A fun video.
13. So Hard (Directed by Eric Watson)
Another mild hit has more black and white in a depressing little video about infidelity. Nothing really stands out.
14. Being Boring (Directed by Bruce Weber) The Pet Shop Boys' best song and best video, as done by a leading photographer. Black and white, as assorted teens get ready for a party. This will make you nostalgic for youth, when the most important thing you had were your friends. Some nudity, but it only serves to heighten your emotions. Excellent.
15. How Can You Expect To Be Taken Seriously? (Directed by Liam Kan)
The version of this song on their album was a little peppier, but the video is funny. The song concerns all those megalomaniacal performers with their pet causes and yes men.
16. Where the Streets Have No Name (I Can't Take My Eyes Off You) (Directed by Liam Kan)
Who else would have thought to mix the two title songs into a giant, coloring book-bright remake? Strong video, with cheering crowds over Tennant's vocals.
17. Jealousy (Directed by Eric Watson)
Lush video also deals with infidelity, leading to violence in a restaurant as Tennant croons away. Gorgeous to look at.
18. DJ Culture (Directed by Eric Watson)
Really weird video as Tennant dresses like Oscar Wilde, and cross dressing Queen Victorias mix with a soccer match. Wild to watch.
I have been a long time fan of the Pet Shop Boys, and I have always enjoyed their videos, even though MTV did not play them anymore. I highly recommend this collection.
Blue Vanities 306 (1994)
Black on White, and Vice Versa: "Blue Vanities 306"
This compilation DVD features fourteen short films (stags or loops), all of which look like they are from the 1970's, with the theme being "interracial couplings":
"Black Plaything"
An older black man with a lot of bling gets it on with a lactating younger woman in a bedroom. 3/10
"An Integrated Impulse"
A black man, a white man, and a white woman have sex in a living room setting. 5/10
"I Fuck"
I think the white woman here is a hooker, entertaining three black men. 6/10
"Vanessa's Lusty Lad"
Vanessa del Rio with a black man and a white girl. 4/10
"Hot Licks"
A black man and a really cute girl start with some stretching before they have sex. 7/10
"Horn Blower"
An unfortunate song choice spoils this loop featuring a sax player and a woman. 5/10
"Black on White"
A cute but thin woman calls up a black man to come over for sex. 5/10
"Big Black Stud"
Sue Nero is pretty impressive, but her sexual partner is covered in so much facial hair he could pass for a werewolf. 5/10
"Trio"
Two men deliver some chairs to a woman in a star-spangled bikini before they have sex indoors. The exposure is too bright in this loop, and the white guy is creepy looking. 3/10
"Swappers"
A black man has sex with a blonde, while a white man has sex with a black woman, before the black woman suddenly appears in the other sex scene. 3/10
"Soul Slave"
A white woman with thigh high boots and a black man have sex in a twin bed. Uncomfortable. 3/10
"Swedish Erotica: The Morning After"
This must be a scene from a longer film, complete with some partial credits, as a white man and his Asian looking maid have sex, and a black man enters to take part. 4/10
"Swedish Erotica: How Sweet It Was"
Another scene from a longer film, involving an Asian looking woman and a black man. 4/10
"Jungle Paul"
A very cute Sue Pearlman and a black man have sex, with Pearlman on a leash. 6/10
The titles come from the back of the DVD box, there are just a couple of partial credits onscreen. The collection is okay, some are worse than others, and the best clips never rise above mediocre. The music seems to be public domain from the 1940's or 1950's, and completely inappropriate for the sex scenes from the 1970's.
"Black Plaything"
An older black man with a lot of bling gets it on with a lactating younger woman in a bedroom. 3/10
"An Integrated Impulse"
A black man, a white man, and a white woman have sex in a living room setting. 5/10
"I Fuck"
I think the white woman here is a hooker, entertaining three black men. 6/10
"Vanessa's Lusty Lad"
Vanessa del Rio with a black man and a white girl. 4/10
"Hot Licks"
A black man and a really cute girl start with some stretching before they have sex. 7/10
"Horn Blower"
An unfortunate song choice spoils this loop featuring a sax player and a woman. 5/10
"Black on White"
A cute but thin woman calls up a black man to come over for sex. 5/10
"Big Black Stud"
Sue Nero is pretty impressive, but her sexual partner is covered in so much facial hair he could pass for a werewolf. 5/10
"Trio"
Two men deliver some chairs to a woman in a star-spangled bikini before they have sex indoors. The exposure is too bright in this loop, and the white guy is creepy looking. 3/10
"Swappers"
A black man has sex with a blonde, while a white man has sex with a black woman, before the black woman suddenly appears in the other sex scene. 3/10
"Soul Slave"
A white woman with thigh high boots and a black man have sex in a twin bed. Uncomfortable. 3/10
"Swedish Erotica: The Morning After"
This must be a scene from a longer film, complete with some partial credits, as a white man and his Asian looking maid have sex, and a black man enters to take part. 4/10
"Swedish Erotica: How Sweet It Was"
Another scene from a longer film, involving an Asian looking woman and a black man. 4/10
"Jungle Paul"
A very cute Sue Pearlman and a black man have sex, with Pearlman on a leash. 6/10
The titles come from the back of the DVD box, there are just a couple of partial credits onscreen. The collection is okay, some are worse than others, and the best clips never rise above mediocre. The music seems to be public domain from the 1940's or 1950's, and completely inappropriate for the sex scenes from the 1970's.
Monday, April 27, 2026
Erotic Confessions: Pleasure (1998)
This silly video has five vignettes, all posing as letters being read by a busty erotica writer who hangs around her house half naked. "Games People Play" involves a strip poker game that degenerates into truth or sexual dare, and finally just sex. "Chalk It Up" has a couple playing pool for fun and finally just sex. "The Business Trip" involves a female scientist at a convention who can hear the people next door in the hotel make love, she befriends them, and finally just sex. "Lap Dance" has a car salesman obsessed with a stripper, who likes him too, and finally just sex. "Madelyn's Laundry" involves a fashion designer who models lingerie when a stranger walks in on her, she sells him some clothing, and finally just sex.
The acting here is atrocious and the stories have no basis in reality, as well as some of the females' bust sizes. The director is careful not to make any of the stories interesting, and succeeds. "Erotic Confessions: Pleasure" is softcore drivel of the lowest caliber, and makes "Red Shoe Diaries" look like "Casablanca."
The acting here is atrocious and the stories have no basis in reality, as well as some of the females' bust sizes. The director is careful not to make any of the stories interesting, and succeeds. "Erotic Confessions: Pleasure" is softcore drivel of the lowest caliber, and makes "Red Shoe Diaries" look like "Casablanca."
The Cremator (1969)
On "The Cremator" (1969)
The Nazis decided the Jews would burn
A Czech man, mad and calm, would fit the bill
Party members' respect he would now earn
When he started with familial swill
Grotesque angles and characters abound
Centered on the repulsive man named Karl
A moral man easily led around
As background townspeople bicker and snarl
Haunted by the dead whom he turned to ash
Having his blood drawn to check for disease
He's too insane to think his actions rash
He's a savior, kill with conscience ease
Caskets and ovens and those graveyard walks
Disappointed with family he thinks
Visits to prostitutes mostly to talk
He combs the corpses' hair, their cheeks are pink
"The Cremator" builds on repetition
What a sigh you hear when the film is done
The Nazis decided the Jews would burn
A Czech man, mad and calm, would fit the bill
Party members' respect he would now earn
When he started with familial swill
Grotesque angles and characters abound
Centered on the repulsive man named Karl
A moral man easily led around
As background townspeople bicker and snarl
Haunted by the dead whom he turned to ash
Having his blood drawn to check for disease
He's too insane to think his actions rash
He's a savior, kill with conscience ease
Caskets and ovens and those graveyard walks
Disappointed with family he thinks
Visits to prostitutes mostly to talk
He combs the corpses' hair, their cheeks are pink
"The Cremator" builds on repetition
What a sigh you hear when the film is done
The Death Train (1978)
Clematis, New South Wales, Australia has seen some problems, one of them being the script to this television film. Insurance investigator Ted Morrow (Hugh Keays-Byrne) arrives in town to look into the death of one of the local homosexuals. It seems the old boy was walking home one night when he was struck by a train. The problem is the closest set of train tracks is fifty miles away. Dead Herbie's (Colin Taylor) lover, Johnny (Max Meldrum), mourns the loss and prepares to sell the house they shared to local construction company owner Murdoch (Brian Wenzel). Morrow begins checking into the case.
Morrow finds out Herbie's father and grandfather also died under mysterious circumstances. Also, when Morrow arrives in town, entire crowds of townsfolk appear and disappear right in front of his eyes. With the help of convenient love interest Vera (Ingrid Mason), Morrow and local cop McMasters (Ken Goodlet) set their sights on Murdoch. Johnny holds a seance and senses his dead lover is angry at him for wanting to sell the house, evident by a hurled glass against a wall. As Murdoch closes in on the land deal, Morrow closes in on the truth.
"Fine, Charles, but what about the disappearing crowds? The seance? Herbie's dead ancestors? Are all these plot points tied together into a neat "X Files"-type finale?"
I'm glad you asked, poodle. In a word, no.
Morrow is a quirky enough detective, trying to quit smoking by never lighting the ever present cigarette in his mouth. He must catch rides with Vera because he cannot afford the taxi service in the small town. He also bares a striking resemblance to porn star Ron Jeremy, which adds to the fun when discussions of long tube-like modes of transportation pop up. However, the screenwriter and the director never address any other supernatural goings-on except to prove a ghost train does not exist. No reason is given, the film just ends.
"The Death Train" plays like an unsuccessful pilot for a "The Night Stalker" type show (it came out in 1978). It is also an hour long crime drama stretched beyond its comprehension limits to ninety eight minutes. It was solid average until I started questioning the wheres and whys when the thing ended.
You won't die if you take out "The Death Train," but you will experience motion sickness. This is just another lazy effort, and surprising that no one bothered to read the script closely or edit it correctly. Leave it at the station.
Morrow finds out Herbie's father and grandfather also died under mysterious circumstances. Also, when Morrow arrives in town, entire crowds of townsfolk appear and disappear right in front of his eyes. With the help of convenient love interest Vera (Ingrid Mason), Morrow and local cop McMasters (Ken Goodlet) set their sights on Murdoch. Johnny holds a seance and senses his dead lover is angry at him for wanting to sell the house, evident by a hurled glass against a wall. As Murdoch closes in on the land deal, Morrow closes in on the truth.
"Fine, Charles, but what about the disappearing crowds? The seance? Herbie's dead ancestors? Are all these plot points tied together into a neat "X Files"-type finale?"
I'm glad you asked, poodle. In a word, no.
Morrow is a quirky enough detective, trying to quit smoking by never lighting the ever present cigarette in his mouth. He must catch rides with Vera because he cannot afford the taxi service in the small town. He also bares a striking resemblance to porn star Ron Jeremy, which adds to the fun when discussions of long tube-like modes of transportation pop up. However, the screenwriter and the director never address any other supernatural goings-on except to prove a ghost train does not exist. No reason is given, the film just ends.
"The Death Train" plays like an unsuccessful pilot for a "The Night Stalker" type show (it came out in 1978). It is also an hour long crime drama stretched beyond its comprehension limits to ninety eight minutes. It was solid average until I started questioning the wheres and whys when the thing ended.
You won't die if you take out "The Death Train," but you will experience motion sickness. This is just another lazy effort, and surprising that no one bothered to read the script closely or edit it correctly. Leave it at the station.
Saturday, April 25, 2026
Twin Towers (2003)
John Vigiano was one of New York City's most decorated firefighters. He was proud when his namesake, John Jr., joined the fire department, and younger son Joseph became a member of the police emergency rescue unit. Then September 11, 2001 happened, and John Vigiano lost two of his sons in a span of minutes at the World Trade Center. "Twin Towers" is one of the thousands of stories from that day.
Producer Dick Wolf shot a reality show pilot centering around one of New York City's police emergency rescue units. The two dozen unit members are an extended family, and are called upon to do everything from S.W.A.T.-like arrests to water and air rescues. The men are close knit, but Joseph Vigiano stood out. He had been shot five times on two different occasions in the line of duty, a bulletproof vest saving his life each time. He is rather quiet in front of the cameras, talking enthusiastically about how much he loves his job. He also is sure to kiss his three young sons goodbye before he goes to work each day, just in case the unthinkable would happen.
On September 1st, 2001, Joseph's infant son was baptized. Ten days later, the unthinkable did happen. Joseph called his father on a cell phone, telling him he was headed to the World Trade Center. After the towers' collapse, another co-worker called the cell phone, and got a male voice. It was an EMT worker, who had no idea where the cell phone's owner was. It was confirmed that both Joseph, and his older brother, were killed in the collapse while trying to get people out. Fourteen officers from Joseph's unit alone died.
John Vigiano's pain is almost unbearable to watch. He talks about passing on what he learned about having a life-threatening career- no matter what the fight or how you feel, kiss your loved ones goodbye no matter what, in case something happens. His pride at raising two competing brothers who drove him crazy sometimes before becoming heroes on that day is uplifting.
"Twin Towers" is both a reference to the World Trade Center, and these two men who were lost. The filmmakers spend most of their time on Joseph, since his unit was the subject of the television pilot. The film is just thirty four minutes, and I would have liked to see more about Joseph and John Jr. The directors do incorporate news footage from that day, and it still puts a lump to my throat. The Vigiano boys died heroically. This film is small, tells its story, and leaves the viewer wanting more. Not only more about these men, but wanting to get that day back. Wanting to know something about all three thousand people who lost their lives that day. It takes a film like "Twin Towers" to remind us that politicians and their spin, petty family problems, and all the other little things that seem so big now are in fact meaningless in the grand scheme of things.
September 11, 2001 was just another day until the first plane hit. Doesn't today seem like "just another day," too? How about yesterday? Last week? We can prepare for the worst, hope for the best, and forgive the small differences- almost impossible advice in this day and age.
Producer Dick Wolf shot a reality show pilot centering around one of New York City's police emergency rescue units. The two dozen unit members are an extended family, and are called upon to do everything from S.W.A.T.-like arrests to water and air rescues. The men are close knit, but Joseph Vigiano stood out. He had been shot five times on two different occasions in the line of duty, a bulletproof vest saving his life each time. He is rather quiet in front of the cameras, talking enthusiastically about how much he loves his job. He also is sure to kiss his three young sons goodbye before he goes to work each day, just in case the unthinkable would happen.
On September 1st, 2001, Joseph's infant son was baptized. Ten days later, the unthinkable did happen. Joseph called his father on a cell phone, telling him he was headed to the World Trade Center. After the towers' collapse, another co-worker called the cell phone, and got a male voice. It was an EMT worker, who had no idea where the cell phone's owner was. It was confirmed that both Joseph, and his older brother, were killed in the collapse while trying to get people out. Fourteen officers from Joseph's unit alone died.
John Vigiano's pain is almost unbearable to watch. He talks about passing on what he learned about having a life-threatening career- no matter what the fight or how you feel, kiss your loved ones goodbye no matter what, in case something happens. His pride at raising two competing brothers who drove him crazy sometimes before becoming heroes on that day is uplifting.
"Twin Towers" is both a reference to the World Trade Center, and these two men who were lost. The filmmakers spend most of their time on Joseph, since his unit was the subject of the television pilot. The film is just thirty four minutes, and I would have liked to see more about Joseph and John Jr. The directors do incorporate news footage from that day, and it still puts a lump to my throat. The Vigiano boys died heroically. This film is small, tells its story, and leaves the viewer wanting more. Not only more about these men, but wanting to get that day back. Wanting to know something about all three thousand people who lost their lives that day. It takes a film like "Twin Towers" to remind us that politicians and their spin, petty family problems, and all the other little things that seem so big now are in fact meaningless in the grand scheme of things.
September 11, 2001 was just another day until the first plane hit. Doesn't today seem like "just another day," too? How about yesterday? Last week? We can prepare for the worst, hope for the best, and forgive the small differences- almost impossible advice in this day and age.
The Sugarland Express (1974)
Steven Spielberg's first theatrical film shows some signs of things to come.
Lou Jean Poplin (Goldie Hawn) has recently been released from jail after serving eight months for larceny. Her husband, Clovis (William Atherton), has just four months left on his sentence, but there is a problem. Their toddler son has been taken by welfare and placed in a foster home. Lou Jean comes up with a scheme to break Clovis out of prison. The couple hitches a ride, but are pulled over by highway patrolman Slide (Michael Sacks). They panic, run, wreck, and kidnap the law officer and hijack his patrol car. Tough captain Tanner (Ben Johnson) begins negotiations with the pair, with about two dozen police cars on their trail. Lou Jean has pie-in-the-sky dreams of getting their child and living happily ever after, but Clovis and Slide know otherwise.
Spielberg uses southern Texas locations to the fullest extent. I'm familiar with the area where the film takes place, and the only problems I found were geographical- "Sugar Land" is actually two words, and not anywhere near a ten minute drive from the Mexican border. Vilmos Zigmond's cinematography is lovely without calling attention to itself, and John Williams' score is great, not a French horn in sight. This is a gritty film, different from the clean looks of some of his films.
While Goldie Hawn is the top billed star here, the film really feels like a team effort. Lou Jean is in her own little dream land, and Clovis is not much smarter. These two are not Bonnie and Clyde, murderers romanticized to make a good flick. Maxwell Slide does not simply give in to the couple's charm, trying to escape when he can, but also getting to know the pair eventually. While the "criminal as populist hero" routine has been done before, Spielberg shows some incredible confidence behind the camera. As in "Duel," every supporting character seems to have a story of their own which never crowds the main narrative. Tanner has personal problems, and is sometimes seen as weak by his men. Lou Jean's crotchety father wants to take her over his knee. The two old snipers called in to end the chase are professional yet normal. Even the child's foster parents try not to fold under the pressure, a middle aged couple who love this angelic child in their care. Spielberg lets them all have moments, and he shows he can deal with adult actors. Spielberg also generates some suspense, especially the finale, another trait found in "Duel," and his next film, "Jaws." I would love to see him go back to this kind of simple film making, forget the effects, forget the kids, just make an out-and-out Hitchcockian or even horror thriller.
If you are a Spielberg nut, you simply must get "The Sugarland Express" for your collection. Spielberg is now an icon, as famous as his films, and it is great to see where his film roots began.
Lou Jean Poplin (Goldie Hawn) has recently been released from jail after serving eight months for larceny. Her husband, Clovis (William Atherton), has just four months left on his sentence, but there is a problem. Their toddler son has been taken by welfare and placed in a foster home. Lou Jean comes up with a scheme to break Clovis out of prison. The couple hitches a ride, but are pulled over by highway patrolman Slide (Michael Sacks). They panic, run, wreck, and kidnap the law officer and hijack his patrol car. Tough captain Tanner (Ben Johnson) begins negotiations with the pair, with about two dozen police cars on their trail. Lou Jean has pie-in-the-sky dreams of getting their child and living happily ever after, but Clovis and Slide know otherwise.
Spielberg uses southern Texas locations to the fullest extent. I'm familiar with the area where the film takes place, and the only problems I found were geographical- "Sugar Land" is actually two words, and not anywhere near a ten minute drive from the Mexican border. Vilmos Zigmond's cinematography is lovely without calling attention to itself, and John Williams' score is great, not a French horn in sight. This is a gritty film, different from the clean looks of some of his films.
While Goldie Hawn is the top billed star here, the film really feels like a team effort. Lou Jean is in her own little dream land, and Clovis is not much smarter. These two are not Bonnie and Clyde, murderers romanticized to make a good flick. Maxwell Slide does not simply give in to the couple's charm, trying to escape when he can, but also getting to know the pair eventually. While the "criminal as populist hero" routine has been done before, Spielberg shows some incredible confidence behind the camera. As in "Duel," every supporting character seems to have a story of their own which never crowds the main narrative. Tanner has personal problems, and is sometimes seen as weak by his men. Lou Jean's crotchety father wants to take her over his knee. The two old snipers called in to end the chase are professional yet normal. Even the child's foster parents try not to fold under the pressure, a middle aged couple who love this angelic child in their care. Spielberg lets them all have moments, and he shows he can deal with adult actors. Spielberg also generates some suspense, especially the finale, another trait found in "Duel," and his next film, "Jaws." I would love to see him go back to this kind of simple film making, forget the effects, forget the kids, just make an out-and-out Hitchcockian or even horror thriller.
If you are a Spielberg nut, you simply must get "The Sugarland Express" for your collection. Spielberg is now an icon, as famous as his films, and it is great to see where his film roots began.
Surfer, Dude (2008)
I don't know if this is a lark. I don't know if we are supposed to take it seriously. I don't know how much marijuana was actually consumed during production. I do know that "Surfer, Dude" is an uninteresting mess that does not bring enough laughs.
Matthew McConaughey is ace surfer Steve Addington, returning to the United States from an extended surfing vacation overseas. His sponsoring company has been bought by former surfer Eddie Zarno (Jeffrey Nordling), who is cashing in on Addington and others with a virtual reality computer game and stupid reality television series. All of this harshes Addington's mellow, as a sudden wave drought threatens his mental well-being. After his equally high manager Jack (a pretty good Woody Harrelson) is tossed in jail, Addington is slowly squeezed financially by Zarno. Will he cave in and sign with Zarno as the world turns against him, or will he stick to his morals?
No, "Surfer, Dude" is not the first stoner comedy, or the first surfing comedy, but it is one of the strangest. Dope comedy can be funny, and this gets some laughs when Addington and his buddies- all of whom blend into each other and bore quickly- are pulled over by the cops. A scene after the end credits involving Addington and a Korean sponsor should have been the whole movie. Instead of many missed opportunities, we get tons of shots of McConaughey staring out to sea with onscreen titles telling us how long the wave drought has gone. Not exactly comedic gold. Harrelson, as Addington's manager with a lawn mowing business on the side, is actually pretty funny. Addington's minimalist lifestyle and clueless ideas about money is entertaining, but McConaughey is so laid back he almost puts the viewer to sleep. The rest of the cast includes names like Scott Glenn and Willie Nelson, but everyone looks so high, and refers to each other as dude or bro so often, I finally gave up on a linear plot and laughs and just patiently waited for it to end.
Bindler's direction sure likes McConaughey's shirtless physique. The cinematography has a grimy look to it, even though most of it takes place on the beach. The reality TV and virtual reality game angles never work, and when Addington's friends turn against him, you really don't care because they seem like a bunch of shallow hangers-on anyway. Hope you like reggae, as the music pulses and lurches, but never adds anything.
"Surfer, Dude" (one of the worst titles in the history of cinema- for fun and to annoy others, be sure to place a pregnant pause where the comma is) isn't completely rotten, but I wish McConaughey had pulled a few more Hollywood strings to get a decent movie made. It's sad when your surfing philosophy was made more understandable using a bunch of penguins in "Surf's Up."
Matthew McConaughey is ace surfer Steve Addington, returning to the United States from an extended surfing vacation overseas. His sponsoring company has been bought by former surfer Eddie Zarno (Jeffrey Nordling), who is cashing in on Addington and others with a virtual reality computer game and stupid reality television series. All of this harshes Addington's mellow, as a sudden wave drought threatens his mental well-being. After his equally high manager Jack (a pretty good Woody Harrelson) is tossed in jail, Addington is slowly squeezed financially by Zarno. Will he cave in and sign with Zarno as the world turns against him, or will he stick to his morals?
No, "Surfer, Dude" is not the first stoner comedy, or the first surfing comedy, but it is one of the strangest. Dope comedy can be funny, and this gets some laughs when Addington and his buddies- all of whom blend into each other and bore quickly- are pulled over by the cops. A scene after the end credits involving Addington and a Korean sponsor should have been the whole movie. Instead of many missed opportunities, we get tons of shots of McConaughey staring out to sea with onscreen titles telling us how long the wave drought has gone. Not exactly comedic gold. Harrelson, as Addington's manager with a lawn mowing business on the side, is actually pretty funny. Addington's minimalist lifestyle and clueless ideas about money is entertaining, but McConaughey is so laid back he almost puts the viewer to sleep. The rest of the cast includes names like Scott Glenn and Willie Nelson, but everyone looks so high, and refers to each other as dude or bro so often, I finally gave up on a linear plot and laughs and just patiently waited for it to end.
Bindler's direction sure likes McConaughey's shirtless physique. The cinematography has a grimy look to it, even though most of it takes place on the beach. The reality TV and virtual reality game angles never work, and when Addington's friends turn against him, you really don't care because they seem like a bunch of shallow hangers-on anyway. Hope you like reggae, as the music pulses and lurches, but never adds anything.
"Surfer, Dude" (one of the worst titles in the history of cinema- for fun and to annoy others, be sure to place a pregnant pause where the comma is) isn't completely rotten, but I wish McConaughey had pulled a few more Hollywood strings to get a decent movie made. It's sad when your surfing philosophy was made more understandable using a bunch of penguins in "Surf's Up."
Surrender (2000)
Lauren (Kira Reed) is tracking a spirit, a spirit that is making your average, ordinary folk turn into sexual monsters. The spirit has been nicknamed Eros, and Lauren experienced it after breaking up with a boyfriend and almost loving up a stranger in a parking lot. She then interviews people who also share her experiences, but find the chain of lust suddenly broken until her hot-to-trot roomie finds the spirit again.
This is not any sort of mystery or investigation as much as it is a lot of sexy scenes and badly decorated sets. All the women here are beautiful, the men are hunky, the soundtrack is appropriately laden with saxophones, but everything about this film has an air of familiarity to it. The script is a disaster- the storyline tries to engage the viewer on a level other than wanting to see women in thongs. The acting is above par for this kind of project, but the special effects are of the Video Toaster variety, and no conclusion is ever reached. This will anger anyone who must sit through ninety minutes of this, hoping something new will be tried. The sex is all softcore, there are a couple of shots where the actors' "socks" are evident.
"Surrender" is run-of-the-mill straight-to-video softcore sex. If you are hoping for some sort of "The X Files"-spin on a tried and tired genre, look elsewhere.
This is not any sort of mystery or investigation as much as it is a lot of sexy scenes and badly decorated sets. All the women here are beautiful, the men are hunky, the soundtrack is appropriately laden with saxophones, but everything about this film has an air of familiarity to it. The script is a disaster- the storyline tries to engage the viewer on a level other than wanting to see women in thongs. The acting is above par for this kind of project, but the special effects are of the Video Toaster variety, and no conclusion is ever reached. This will anger anyone who must sit through ninety minutes of this, hoping something new will be tried. The sex is all softcore, there are a couple of shots where the actors' "socks" are evident.
"Surrender" is run-of-the-mill straight-to-video softcore sex. If you are hoping for some sort of "The X Files"-spin on a tried and tired genre, look elsewhere.
Sweet Charity (1969)
Bob Fosse brought the musical "Sweet Charity," based on Federico Fellini's film "Nights of Cabiria," to the stage in 1966. Starring Gwen Verdon, the story of a dance hall hostess' search for love was a smash. A film version was greenlighted but Fosse had never directed on camera before. Universal Studios took a chance, creating this late 1960's curiosity.
For the film version, Shirley MacLaine took over the title role. She plays Charity Hope Valentine, a dance girl in New York City. In the opening minutes of the film, she is both dumped and robbed by her unofficial fiance, but still tells her friends at the Fandango, where she works, white lies about her relationships. Best friends Nickie (Chita Rivera) and Helene (Paula Kelly) have heard it all before, and constantly humor the naive Charity. Charity meets up with Italian movie star Vittorio (Ricardo Montalban), and in an overly long scene, solves his love problems to the deference of her own. Charity finally decides to leave Herman's (Stubby Kaye) club for good, but an interview at an employment agency quickly shows her that she is trained for nothing. She gets stuck in an elevator with Oscar (John McMartin), an insurance company actuary with a variety of psychosomatic mental issues, and both are smitten. Charity lies and tells Oscar she works in a bank, and the two begin a whirlwind, but chaste, love affair. Oscar is the man Charity has been waiting her whole life to be with, but once again, things in Charity's love life don't go as planned.
Bob Fosse does everything at his disposal to make sure "Sweet Charity" is not another stage-bound film. Fosse opens it up with actual New York City location filming, and increases the size of the cast almost twenty-fold. He uses still-shot montages, jump-cut editing, double exposure, and dolly camera angles to keep the picture constantly moving, and every scene is a visual treat. The film eventually turns into one very long disjointed sequence of really good scenes. While I recognized three of the songs here ("Big Spender," "If My Friends Could See Me Now," and "The Rhythm of Life"), the rest of the tunes by Cy Coleman and Dorothy Fields blend together into a meandering soundtrack. Sure, Montalban's bit as Vittorio, leading to MacLaine's rendition of "If My Friends Could See Me Now," is fun, but it drags and drags, and then the audience is let down by the scene's payoff- Charity makes another poor choice in men, *yawn*. Same with "The Rhythm of Life;" Sammy Davis, Jr. and a few dozen hippies belt out the song in a giant parking garage/church, but the scene is pointless in the greater scheme of the film. I loved the extended dance sequence to the instrumental "Rich Man's Frug" when we see Charity out of her element in a mod club, but it also dwells to the point of tediousness.
This film clocks in at just under two and a half hours, joining the ranks of bloated 1960's and early 1970's musicals like "My Fair Lady," "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang," "Doctor Dolittle," "Lost Horizon," "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory," and pretty much anything Barbra Streisand or post-""Mary Poppins"" Julie Andrews warbled in. Many fans look at a lot of these films fondly, but a hundred and fifty minutes of Charity Valentine is a lot for anybody. MacLaine is adorable without being cutesy, and Rivera, Kelly, and Kaye are all great. The "Big Spender" number is pure Fosse, and he repeats a number of elements here just a few short years later in "Cabaret," which in my opinion is the greatest motion picture ever made. Fosse would also direct "Lenny," "All That Jazz," and "Star 80," always returning to the stage before dying at age 60 from years of self-abuse with drugs and alcohol.
The musical's book was done by Neil Simon, and Peter Stone's screenplay has many funny moments including Charity's rescue after falling into a lake, and Oscar's freak-out in the trapped elevator. The tone is weird in that while Charity's possible part-time prostitution is danced around and hinted at, Davis' Big Daddy delivers a speech about marijuana, and hippies play a large supporting role. Fosse seems to hold back and get in your face all at once, which makes for a sometimes off-putting viewing experience. Even the film's ending is uncommon (it was changed after the original ending was deemed too goofy; I saw the original ending- it was too goofy).
"Sweet Charity" was the only Fosse film I had not seen until this, and I recommend it to see this genius just beginning his short but rewarding film career.
For the film version, Shirley MacLaine took over the title role. She plays Charity Hope Valentine, a dance girl in New York City. In the opening minutes of the film, she is both dumped and robbed by her unofficial fiance, but still tells her friends at the Fandango, where she works, white lies about her relationships. Best friends Nickie (Chita Rivera) and Helene (Paula Kelly) have heard it all before, and constantly humor the naive Charity. Charity meets up with Italian movie star Vittorio (Ricardo Montalban), and in an overly long scene, solves his love problems to the deference of her own. Charity finally decides to leave Herman's (Stubby Kaye) club for good, but an interview at an employment agency quickly shows her that she is trained for nothing. She gets stuck in an elevator with Oscar (John McMartin), an insurance company actuary with a variety of psychosomatic mental issues, and both are smitten. Charity lies and tells Oscar she works in a bank, and the two begin a whirlwind, but chaste, love affair. Oscar is the man Charity has been waiting her whole life to be with, but once again, things in Charity's love life don't go as planned.
Bob Fosse does everything at his disposal to make sure "Sweet Charity" is not another stage-bound film. Fosse opens it up with actual New York City location filming, and increases the size of the cast almost twenty-fold. He uses still-shot montages, jump-cut editing, double exposure, and dolly camera angles to keep the picture constantly moving, and every scene is a visual treat. The film eventually turns into one very long disjointed sequence of really good scenes. While I recognized three of the songs here ("Big Spender," "If My Friends Could See Me Now," and "The Rhythm of Life"), the rest of the tunes by Cy Coleman and Dorothy Fields blend together into a meandering soundtrack. Sure, Montalban's bit as Vittorio, leading to MacLaine's rendition of "If My Friends Could See Me Now," is fun, but it drags and drags, and then the audience is let down by the scene's payoff- Charity makes another poor choice in men, *yawn*. Same with "The Rhythm of Life;" Sammy Davis, Jr. and a few dozen hippies belt out the song in a giant parking garage/church, but the scene is pointless in the greater scheme of the film. I loved the extended dance sequence to the instrumental "Rich Man's Frug" when we see Charity out of her element in a mod club, but it also dwells to the point of tediousness.
This film clocks in at just under two and a half hours, joining the ranks of bloated 1960's and early 1970's musicals like "My Fair Lady," "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang," "Doctor Dolittle," "Lost Horizon," "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory," and pretty much anything Barbra Streisand or post-""Mary Poppins"" Julie Andrews warbled in. Many fans look at a lot of these films fondly, but a hundred and fifty minutes of Charity Valentine is a lot for anybody. MacLaine is adorable without being cutesy, and Rivera, Kelly, and Kaye are all great. The "Big Spender" number is pure Fosse, and he repeats a number of elements here just a few short years later in "Cabaret," which in my opinion is the greatest motion picture ever made. Fosse would also direct "Lenny," "All That Jazz," and "Star 80," always returning to the stage before dying at age 60 from years of self-abuse with drugs and alcohol.
The musical's book was done by Neil Simon, and Peter Stone's screenplay has many funny moments including Charity's rescue after falling into a lake, and Oscar's freak-out in the trapped elevator. The tone is weird in that while Charity's possible part-time prostitution is danced around and hinted at, Davis' Big Daddy delivers a speech about marijuana, and hippies play a large supporting role. Fosse seems to hold back and get in your face all at once, which makes for a sometimes off-putting viewing experience. Even the film's ending is uncommon (it was changed after the original ending was deemed too goofy; I saw the original ending- it was too goofy).
"Sweet Charity" was the only Fosse film I had not seen until this, and I recommend it to see this genius just beginning his short but rewarding film career.
The Taint (2011)
Phil (Drew Bolduc) is a really dumb high schooler, held back two years, who has just been run off a farm girl's property by her reaper-bearing, openly-defecating father. After his escape, Phil notices something is up with the people he is meeting. All the men are sexually excited, and murdering women- not an every day occurrence.
Phil is saved by Misandra (Colleen Walsh), who explains that the drinking water has been tainted, and then she tells the story of her perfect marriage being upset by the water. Misandra eventually had to kill her husband in self-defense, emotionally cradling his brain in her hands. As the pair travel to a fabled well that has not been tainted, they meet a band of men led by Phil's gym teacher Mr. Johnson (Cody Crenshaw), now going by the name Houdini. He then tells his story to the pair, also recounting how his life has changed due to the mass poisoning. Eventually, Phil and Misandra find out how the taint came to be, and Phil's own past is examined before he fights back.
I'll say it outright- "The Taint" may be one of the grossest films I have ever seen. Thanks to some top-notch gore and digital effects, blood and other bodily fluids fly across the screen and drench the cast in sticky goo. I have seen some weird stuff in my years as a film fan- about 8,000 films watched, and about a thousand reviewed- but this film is "special" in every sense of the word. Do you know what? When I wasn't cringing at the lead actor actually vomiting onscreen, I was laughing out loud at instantly quotable dialogue along the lines of "Who was that large cocked man?". Drew Bolduc also wrote the script, and it spoofs all those post-apocalypse films we have had to sit through in the past few years. However, Bolduc doesn't take a winking approach to his subject, he out-Tromas Lloyd Kaufman himself, coming up with psychotically offensive material about misogyny, assault, abortion, abuse, homosexuality, and even American flag desecration.
I guess I am recommending this, to only the strongest stomachs and jaded eyes, because directors Bolduc and Dan Nelson force the viewer to watch this skewed world. This flies at a breakneck pace, and if you can make it through the first ten minutes, you should be "alright" through the following hour.
While the screenplay's structure is a good idea, once in a while I was lost as to what I was watching. Phil's flashbacks are not as well defined as the other characters', but I eventually caught up. Just a small problem in an otherwise memorable film. Technically, the film is outstanding for such a small budget. Nelson did the special effects as well, and they are pretty incredible. Bolduc has the musical credit, a professional soundtrack with one of the funniest montage songs ever recorded.
Bolduc is hilarious as Phil. With his Ziggy Stardust haircut and open-mouthed expression, it was a joy to watch him stumble onscreen. The rest of the cast all deserve kudos, especially in a film that many of them probably couldn't slip into the DVD player at Grandma's house to show what they have been doing while away at college in Virginia.
I cannot reiterate enough how violent "The Taint" is. However, in this day and age, and in light of current events, it's like a breath of fresh sewer stench to remind us of how human we are.
Phil is saved by Misandra (Colleen Walsh), who explains that the drinking water has been tainted, and then she tells the story of her perfect marriage being upset by the water. Misandra eventually had to kill her husband in self-defense, emotionally cradling his brain in her hands. As the pair travel to a fabled well that has not been tainted, they meet a band of men led by Phil's gym teacher Mr. Johnson (Cody Crenshaw), now going by the name Houdini. He then tells his story to the pair, also recounting how his life has changed due to the mass poisoning. Eventually, Phil and Misandra find out how the taint came to be, and Phil's own past is examined before he fights back.
I'll say it outright- "The Taint" may be one of the grossest films I have ever seen. Thanks to some top-notch gore and digital effects, blood and other bodily fluids fly across the screen and drench the cast in sticky goo. I have seen some weird stuff in my years as a film fan- about 8,000 films watched, and about a thousand reviewed- but this film is "special" in every sense of the word. Do you know what? When I wasn't cringing at the lead actor actually vomiting onscreen, I was laughing out loud at instantly quotable dialogue along the lines of "Who was that large cocked man?". Drew Bolduc also wrote the script, and it spoofs all those post-apocalypse films we have had to sit through in the past few years. However, Bolduc doesn't take a winking approach to his subject, he out-Tromas Lloyd Kaufman himself, coming up with psychotically offensive material about misogyny, assault, abortion, abuse, homosexuality, and even American flag desecration.
I guess I am recommending this, to only the strongest stomachs and jaded eyes, because directors Bolduc and Dan Nelson force the viewer to watch this skewed world. This flies at a breakneck pace, and if you can make it through the first ten minutes, you should be "alright" through the following hour.
While the screenplay's structure is a good idea, once in a while I was lost as to what I was watching. Phil's flashbacks are not as well defined as the other characters', but I eventually caught up. Just a small problem in an otherwise memorable film. Technically, the film is outstanding for such a small budget. Nelson did the special effects as well, and they are pretty incredible. Bolduc has the musical credit, a professional soundtrack with one of the funniest montage songs ever recorded.
Bolduc is hilarious as Phil. With his Ziggy Stardust haircut and open-mouthed expression, it was a joy to watch him stumble onscreen. The rest of the cast all deserve kudos, especially in a film that many of them probably couldn't slip into the DVD player at Grandma's house to show what they have been doing while away at college in Virginia.
I cannot reiterate enough how violent "The Taint" is. However, in this day and age, and in light of current events, it's like a breath of fresh sewer stench to remind us of how human we are.
Take the Money and Run (1969)
Woody Allen's crime comedy is a mockumentary telling the story of Virgil Starkwell, possibly the world's worst criminal.
Narrated by Jackson Beck, we find Virgil started out life with petty crime, and never really became successful after that. He meets a pretty girl, Louise (Janet Margolin), and falls in love, but the call of easy money keeps drawing him into failed schemes to rob banks. As we see his plans go awry time after time, we also hear from psychiatrists and authority figures, all of whom think they know what is really wrong with Virgil. His parents, ashamed of their son, don disguises to hide their identities- Groucho Marx noses and glasses. Most of the film revolves around Virgil's misadventures in prison after his bank jobs fail. I cannot decide which is funnier, the first prison scene where he gets out on his own after his gang forgets to tell him the breakout is off, or the second chain gang scene where six men escape into a field and try to split up while still chained together.
The first ten minutes of this film are among the funniest in cinematic history. Watching Virgil try to play the cello in the marching band is so good, I rewound it to watch again. The film is rich with great lines and dialogue, and boldly steps into the surreal and ridiculous on more than one occasion: the best example is Virgil's attempt to run over a woman who is blackmailing him- in her living room. Allen is not yet in those New York films that some roll their eyes at- do not get me started on "Alice" or "September." He is in almost every scene, and he is out to make a comedy, nothing more. Of course, the film cannot sustain the laughs through the whole thing. Some scenes fall flat, but are immediately forgotten by whatever Allen pulls out of his bag of tricks next. This film served as inspiration for comedies like "Airplane!," and borrows its maniacal pace from the Marx Brothers' pictures. Allen is not quite a great director here yet, his editing is sloppy and the sound quality is awful, but the characters and writing are great.
Very cheap, a little fitful here and there, but still one of the great comedies of all time and one that will have you laughing more often than not. I highly recommend "Take the Money and Run."
Narrated by Jackson Beck, we find Virgil started out life with petty crime, and never really became successful after that. He meets a pretty girl, Louise (Janet Margolin), and falls in love, but the call of easy money keeps drawing him into failed schemes to rob banks. As we see his plans go awry time after time, we also hear from psychiatrists and authority figures, all of whom think they know what is really wrong with Virgil. His parents, ashamed of their son, don disguises to hide their identities- Groucho Marx noses and glasses. Most of the film revolves around Virgil's misadventures in prison after his bank jobs fail. I cannot decide which is funnier, the first prison scene where he gets out on his own after his gang forgets to tell him the breakout is off, or the second chain gang scene where six men escape into a field and try to split up while still chained together.
The first ten minutes of this film are among the funniest in cinematic history. Watching Virgil try to play the cello in the marching band is so good, I rewound it to watch again. The film is rich with great lines and dialogue, and boldly steps into the surreal and ridiculous on more than one occasion: the best example is Virgil's attempt to run over a woman who is blackmailing him- in her living room. Allen is not yet in those New York films that some roll their eyes at- do not get me started on "Alice" or "September." He is in almost every scene, and he is out to make a comedy, nothing more. Of course, the film cannot sustain the laughs through the whole thing. Some scenes fall flat, but are immediately forgotten by whatever Allen pulls out of his bag of tricks next. This film served as inspiration for comedies like "Airplane!," and borrows its maniacal pace from the Marx Brothers' pictures. Allen is not quite a great director here yet, his editing is sloppy and the sound quality is awful, but the characters and writing are great.
Very cheap, a little fitful here and there, but still one of the great comedies of all time and one that will have you laughing more often than not. I highly recommend "Take the Money and Run."
Sometime Sweet Susan (1975)
This relic from the days of porno chic is a little more entertaining than today's contemporary pornography, but that still isn't saying much.
Dr. Mark (Harry Reems) is trying to help mysterious mental patient Susan (Shawn Harris). No one knows where Susan came from, and as Mark tries to get her to open up and get inside her head (so to speak), Susan is carrying on a rich fantasy life involving Mark. She also has another personality lurking inside her in the form of Sandra, an unpleasant woman who has had it with the demure Susan. As Susan has flashbacks to an attack that could explain her personalities, Mark tries everything he can think of to get to the root of Susan's problem.
Director/co-writer Donaldson seems to be a one-off helmer, unless this is a pseudonym. Credits from adult films of the 1970's were sketchy enough to begin with. The film's cast is an impressive combination of mainstream and pornographic performers. The film even sports a song and musical score. The performances are okay, and the sets are not glossy and over-lit. Harris is a little awkward as Susan/Sandra, her fantasies about Dr. Mark and her flashbacks to an old boyfriend and life changing attack run hot and cold. I could not find any novels that this was based on, so I'm not sure if the story translated to the screen very well. What I did find hilarious was Dr. Mark's completely inappropriate "sessions" with Susan, which are nothing more than cringe-worthy flirtations. Dr. Mark can't break through the walls Susan, and then Sandra, throw up in his way, but watching him be coy and cutesy around her is unintentionally funny. Jordan has an okay role as Mark's girlfriend. The final plot twist is something I didn't see happening only because I wasn't overthinking the story, and I don't think it was as shocking as the filmmakers were hoping it would be.
"Sometime Sweet Susan" is available in a softcore version too, and there seems to be some dispute as to an official running time. I watched a hardcore seventy-six minute version from Caballero Video. This is another one of those films that should be cleaned up and restored by a boutique physical media label. It would be interesting to here from any surviving cast or crew members, especially concerning the mainstream cinema ingredients of the film.
Dr. Mark (Harry Reems) is trying to help mysterious mental patient Susan (Shawn Harris). No one knows where Susan came from, and as Mark tries to get her to open up and get inside her head (so to speak), Susan is carrying on a rich fantasy life involving Mark. She also has another personality lurking inside her in the form of Sandra, an unpleasant woman who has had it with the demure Susan. As Susan has flashbacks to an attack that could explain her personalities, Mark tries everything he can think of to get to the root of Susan's problem.
Director/co-writer Donaldson seems to be a one-off helmer, unless this is a pseudonym. Credits from adult films of the 1970's were sketchy enough to begin with. The film's cast is an impressive combination of mainstream and pornographic performers. The film even sports a song and musical score. The performances are okay, and the sets are not glossy and over-lit. Harris is a little awkward as Susan/Sandra, her fantasies about Dr. Mark and her flashbacks to an old boyfriend and life changing attack run hot and cold. I could not find any novels that this was based on, so I'm not sure if the story translated to the screen very well. What I did find hilarious was Dr. Mark's completely inappropriate "sessions" with Susan, which are nothing more than cringe-worthy flirtations. Dr. Mark can't break through the walls Susan, and then Sandra, throw up in his way, but watching him be coy and cutesy around her is unintentionally funny. Jordan has an okay role as Mark's girlfriend. The final plot twist is something I didn't see happening only because I wasn't overthinking the story, and I don't think it was as shocking as the filmmakers were hoping it would be.
"Sometime Sweet Susan" is available in a softcore version too, and there seems to be some dispute as to an official running time. I watched a hardcore seventy-six minute version from Caballero Video. This is another one of those films that should be cleaned up and restored by a boutique physical media label. It would be interesting to here from any surviving cast or crew members, especially concerning the mainstream cinema ingredients of the film.
Race with the Devil (1975)
Warren Oates and Peter Fonda are great in one of those rarely talked about films from the 1970's.
Oates and Fonda are the male halves of two couples taking an RV from San Antonio to Aspen. Along the way, they witness a Satanic ritual that quickly ends in a murder. The rest of the film consists of the two couples trying to make it to Amarillo as a coven pursues and tries to kill them.
This is such an action packed film, and without CGI effects, with wonderful big car crashes. The cast is good, but Jack Starrett's direction keeps both the suspense and the action on equal planes. The last half hour of the film is an incredible set piece involving the RV, a tow truck, a pickup, and a delivery truck, making many of today's action films pale by comparison.
If you happen upon "Race With the Devil" somewhere, definitely take it out and have a look. You will be pleasantly surprised.
Oates and Fonda are the male halves of two couples taking an RV from San Antonio to Aspen. Along the way, they witness a Satanic ritual that quickly ends in a murder. The rest of the film consists of the two couples trying to make it to Amarillo as a coven pursues and tries to kill them.
This is such an action packed film, and without CGI effects, with wonderful big car crashes. The cast is good, but Jack Starrett's direction keeps both the suspense and the action on equal planes. The last half hour of the film is an incredible set piece involving the RV, a tow truck, a pickup, and a delivery truck, making many of today's action films pale by comparison.
If you happen upon "Race With the Devil" somewhere, definitely take it out and have a look. You will be pleasantly surprised.
Radioactive Dreams (1984)
In 1996, a nuclear war has wiped out everybody on Earth. Fourteen years later, there is one unexploded MX missile left, and everybody is looking for the launch keys. Whoever finds them could hold the remaining world population hostage.
In 2010, Phillip (John Stockwell) and Marlowe (Michael Dudikoff) have tunneled out of their bomb shelter, where they have been locked up since the nuclear holocaust. They were thrown in there by Dash Hammer (Don Murray) and Spade Chandler (George Kennedy), who taught them to read using old 1940's and 1950's hard boiled detective novels before locking them in and disappearing. Those novels are the only behavior Phillip and Marlowe know. They spring into a pretty vacant world and run into pretty Miles (Lisa Blount), who drops the aforementioned launch keys before disappearing. Phillip and Marlowe are attacked by reject post-apocalyptic mutants fresh off the last "Mad Max" film and are rescued by Rusty (Michele Little), who takes the boys to a town called Edge City. The roster of people wanting the launch keys grows, and Phillip uses his amateur magic tricks to keep them hidden. Eventually, the film degenerates into a murky chase picture.
Albert Pyun, the writer and director, has been unfairly trapped in B-movie action flick quagmire for years now. This early film is bad, but his keen eye has dressed up what you would normally consider drivel. I wish he had stuck with the original motif ripped off in "Blast from the Past." I wanted the heroic duo to be hard-edged private detectives, instead they drop this angle almost as soon as they leave the shelter. There is a running gag where the guys keep referring to themselves as "dicks," the 1940's slang term for detectives, that gets real old real quick.
While Stockwell is okay, Dudikoff seems to be doing a Jerry Lewis impression, providing none of the menace here that he would eventually have to pull off in all those stupid "American Ninja" movies. All the other gangs are also stranded in different eras. There are two cussing children from the disco era, lots of punk rockers, and some hippies mixed in with juvenile delinquents from the 1950's- were all these people locked in a bomb shelter and learned to read within their respective decade? The film eventually turns so dark, I missed the death of a major character at the end.
Nuclear annihilation has never been so boring, and the attempts at a "Buckaroo Banzai"-type coolness never takes. In the end, "Radioactive Dreams" does not glow.
In 2010, Phillip (John Stockwell) and Marlowe (Michael Dudikoff) have tunneled out of their bomb shelter, where they have been locked up since the nuclear holocaust. They were thrown in there by Dash Hammer (Don Murray) and Spade Chandler (George Kennedy), who taught them to read using old 1940's and 1950's hard boiled detective novels before locking them in and disappearing. Those novels are the only behavior Phillip and Marlowe know. They spring into a pretty vacant world and run into pretty Miles (Lisa Blount), who drops the aforementioned launch keys before disappearing. Phillip and Marlowe are attacked by reject post-apocalyptic mutants fresh off the last "Mad Max" film and are rescued by Rusty (Michele Little), who takes the boys to a town called Edge City. The roster of people wanting the launch keys grows, and Phillip uses his amateur magic tricks to keep them hidden. Eventually, the film degenerates into a murky chase picture.
Albert Pyun, the writer and director, has been unfairly trapped in B-movie action flick quagmire for years now. This early film is bad, but his keen eye has dressed up what you would normally consider drivel. I wish he had stuck with the original motif ripped off in "Blast from the Past." I wanted the heroic duo to be hard-edged private detectives, instead they drop this angle almost as soon as they leave the shelter. There is a running gag where the guys keep referring to themselves as "dicks," the 1940's slang term for detectives, that gets real old real quick.
While Stockwell is okay, Dudikoff seems to be doing a Jerry Lewis impression, providing none of the menace here that he would eventually have to pull off in all those stupid "American Ninja" movies. All the other gangs are also stranded in different eras. There are two cussing children from the disco era, lots of punk rockers, and some hippies mixed in with juvenile delinquents from the 1950's- were all these people locked in a bomb shelter and learned to read within their respective decade? The film eventually turns so dark, I missed the death of a major character at the end.
Nuclear annihilation has never been so boring, and the attempts at a "Buckaroo Banzai"-type coolness never takes. In the end, "Radioactive Dreams" does not glow.
Picnic on Sunday (1968)
Yugoslavian cinematographer Karpo Godina tries his hand at directing with this cute short farce.
"Picnic on Sunday" opens with a wide shot of a field where the speechless characters are gathered. The setting is literally pastoral as an onscreen clarinet and violin duo play a sad dirge of a song which was entombed in my head for the next few days. An older woman with a parasol sits in a wicker chair, reading a book. A middle aged man aims a small caliber rifle at a paper target. Another older man is napping on a bed in a tent. Finally, a nude woman frolics in a nearby creek. These opening establishing shots by Godina are like moving photographs- the camera blurs the image, then focuses and shows the viewer the character, and then blurs again, but the camera itself never moves or zooms until the next shot. Cue the hunky handsome dude who arrives, causing the others to pause. This man is in contemporary garb, our indication that despite some beautiful black and white cinematography, this film is set in the (then) present. The handsome man and the skinny dipper begin making out (no nudity or sex is shown), and the woman's incessant laughter inspires the musical duo to break into a rambunctious tune, much to the consternation of the rest of the cast- and then the rifleman hits his mark.
This is Godina's first professional short film (other shorts include "Litany of Happy People" and the experimental "I Miss Sonja Henie"), and his last black and white effort. He was in the forefront of Eastern European film, which suffered from Communist malaise in the 1960's, 1970's, and later.
"Picnic on Sunday" is a goofy lark, nicely edited and lovingly photographed. The lack of dialogue means the performers must rely on facial expressions, making me initially mistake this as a film from the silent era. I suppose you could read a cultural clash metaphor into the story- the happiness of the two youths briefly affect the popular culture personified by the clarinet and violin duo, which drives the old lady (old guard) to flee, all of which startles at the sound of a gunshot (jackbooted Red military action)- but I went with this twelve minute flow, admiring the film's whim and beauty.
"Picnic on Sunday" opens with a wide shot of a field where the speechless characters are gathered. The setting is literally pastoral as an onscreen clarinet and violin duo play a sad dirge of a song which was entombed in my head for the next few days. An older woman with a parasol sits in a wicker chair, reading a book. A middle aged man aims a small caliber rifle at a paper target. Another older man is napping on a bed in a tent. Finally, a nude woman frolics in a nearby creek. These opening establishing shots by Godina are like moving photographs- the camera blurs the image, then focuses and shows the viewer the character, and then blurs again, but the camera itself never moves or zooms until the next shot. Cue the hunky handsome dude who arrives, causing the others to pause. This man is in contemporary garb, our indication that despite some beautiful black and white cinematography, this film is set in the (then) present. The handsome man and the skinny dipper begin making out (no nudity or sex is shown), and the woman's incessant laughter inspires the musical duo to break into a rambunctious tune, much to the consternation of the rest of the cast- and then the rifleman hits his mark.
This is Godina's first professional short film (other shorts include "Litany of Happy People" and the experimental "I Miss Sonja Henie"), and his last black and white effort. He was in the forefront of Eastern European film, which suffered from Communist malaise in the 1960's, 1970's, and later.
"Picnic on Sunday" is a goofy lark, nicely edited and lovingly photographed. The lack of dialogue means the performers must rely on facial expressions, making me initially mistake this as a film from the silent era. I suppose you could read a cultural clash metaphor into the story- the happiness of the two youths briefly affect the popular culture personified by the clarinet and violin duo, which drives the old lady (old guard) to flee, all of which startles at the sound of a gunshot (jackbooted Red military action)- but I went with this twelve minute flow, admiring the film's whim and beauty.
Raging Angels (1995)
Despite a name cast and a couple of Oscar veterans, this silly film has little going for it.
Sean Patrick Flanery is a down-and-out musician with a cute girlfriend. She is hired as a backup singer for Michael Pare, who is pushing a one world order with the backing of...oh, I don't know...could it be...SATAN. Flanery has religious fanatic grandma Shelley Winters and evangelist Diane Ladd on his side, for what that is worth.
The pseudonym Alan Smithee was used by directors who take their name off a project, and I was surprised to not see it used more throughout the credits. Five different writers are credited with a script that features more holes than Swiss cheese. Michael Pare finally gets to use the guitar face that made "Eddie and the Cruisers" so successful, but the songs are all tepid and uninteresting. Speaking of tepid, the special effects are awful, I have seen better use of computer animation on local television ads. I cannot imagine the film makers started out with such a cheap idea, but after getting the cast, that is what the film degenerated into.
"Raging Angels" is a cool title to an otherwise bland film.
Sean Patrick Flanery is a down-and-out musician with a cute girlfriend. She is hired as a backup singer for Michael Pare, who is pushing a one world order with the backing of...oh, I don't know...could it be...SATAN. Flanery has religious fanatic grandma Shelley Winters and evangelist Diane Ladd on his side, for what that is worth.
The pseudonym Alan Smithee was used by directors who take their name off a project, and I was surprised to not see it used more throughout the credits. Five different writers are credited with a script that features more holes than Swiss cheese. Michael Pare finally gets to use the guitar face that made "Eddie and the Cruisers" so successful, but the songs are all tepid and uninteresting. Speaking of tepid, the special effects are awful, I have seen better use of computer animation on local television ads. I cannot imagine the film makers started out with such a cheap idea, but after getting the cast, that is what the film degenerated into.
"Raging Angels" is a cool title to an otherwise bland film.
Pieces (1982)
This slasher film from the early 1980's is no different than all the other 1980's slasher films, except for the copious amounts of gore, nudity, and unintentional laughter.
In 1942 Boston, a young boy is putting together a jigsaw puzzle of a nude woman. His mother walks in on him. What's a boy to do? Apologize? Hide the puzzle? Deny everything? Nope, he chops her up with an axe, hides in a closet, and tells police a madman murdered her. Forty years later, a college campus is being terrorized by a fedora-wearing killer with a chainsaw. He is cutting up beautiful female co-eds in broad daylight and taking body parts. Our list of suspects, and characters investigating the crimes, are interchangeable: strange anatomy professor Brown (Jack Taylor), the publicity aware dean (Edmund Purdom), grizzled police lieutenant Bracken (Christopher George), his equally grizzled partner Holden (Frank Brann), creepy groundskeeper Willard (Paul Smith), and inexplicably dorky yet studly Kendall (Ian Sera). The police are at a loss, and bring in Mary (Lynda Day) to go undercover as a tennis instructor to find the killer. Of course, all is revealed in the silly climax, but I find myself recommending this film just the same.
"Pieces" has everything you have come to expect from a slasher film, but more of it. There is more chainsaw gore than in "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre." The killer is chopping up women to make their own life size jigsaw puzzle, and the make-up effects are pretty incredible. The women victims, all uncredited, are not only beautiful, but constantly naked. Even Kendall gets in on the act, shedding his clothes in order to get this film released "unrated." After the killer is unmasked, there is a final jump scene that makes absolutely no sense, and had me laughing out loud. The 1940's history here is dubious, did we have touch tone push button phones back then? The 1980's synth soundtrack, especially in some badly choreographed aerobics sequences, is equally funny.
The cast is okay, but some of this was shot in Madrid, Spain, and all the dialogue is dubbed, even English speaking George and Day. Christopher George, in one of his last roles, looks especially gaunt, but still chews the scenery and a cigar as the tough detective. Simon's direction shows some suspense here and there. There is a tip of the hat to "The Shining," as one co-ed is cornered in a bathroom as the killer hacks in with the chainsaw. The amount of gore is surprising. Not only is the chainsaw shown ripping through its victims, but literally gallons of fake blood flows everywhere. The screenplay follows the slasher format, there is one funny scene where Bracken is frustrated at finding the killer, and the next shot has the entire cast of suspects all standing nearby looking equally suspicious. Another funny scene is Mary cursing the killer, screaming "bastard!" over and over again in a line reading that would not see an Oscar nomination anytime soon.
"Pieces" has what matters: gore, nudity, and some suspense. It is not perfect, but strangely watchable, and better than much of the slasher fare that Hollywood churns out even today. If you don't see it for the scares, then see it for the victim who wets herself, or the drugged coffee scene, or the kung-fu professor's fight with Mary, or the vomiting cop, or...
In 1942 Boston, a young boy is putting together a jigsaw puzzle of a nude woman. His mother walks in on him. What's a boy to do? Apologize? Hide the puzzle? Deny everything? Nope, he chops her up with an axe, hides in a closet, and tells police a madman murdered her. Forty years later, a college campus is being terrorized by a fedora-wearing killer with a chainsaw. He is cutting up beautiful female co-eds in broad daylight and taking body parts. Our list of suspects, and characters investigating the crimes, are interchangeable: strange anatomy professor Brown (Jack Taylor), the publicity aware dean (Edmund Purdom), grizzled police lieutenant Bracken (Christopher George), his equally grizzled partner Holden (Frank Brann), creepy groundskeeper Willard (Paul Smith), and inexplicably dorky yet studly Kendall (Ian Sera). The police are at a loss, and bring in Mary (Lynda Day) to go undercover as a tennis instructor to find the killer. Of course, all is revealed in the silly climax, but I find myself recommending this film just the same.
"Pieces" has everything you have come to expect from a slasher film, but more of it. There is more chainsaw gore than in "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre." The killer is chopping up women to make their own life size jigsaw puzzle, and the make-up effects are pretty incredible. The women victims, all uncredited, are not only beautiful, but constantly naked. Even Kendall gets in on the act, shedding his clothes in order to get this film released "unrated." After the killer is unmasked, there is a final jump scene that makes absolutely no sense, and had me laughing out loud. The 1940's history here is dubious, did we have touch tone push button phones back then? The 1980's synth soundtrack, especially in some badly choreographed aerobics sequences, is equally funny.
The cast is okay, but some of this was shot in Madrid, Spain, and all the dialogue is dubbed, even English speaking George and Day. Christopher George, in one of his last roles, looks especially gaunt, but still chews the scenery and a cigar as the tough detective. Simon's direction shows some suspense here and there. There is a tip of the hat to "The Shining," as one co-ed is cornered in a bathroom as the killer hacks in with the chainsaw. The amount of gore is surprising. Not only is the chainsaw shown ripping through its victims, but literally gallons of fake blood flows everywhere. The screenplay follows the slasher format, there is one funny scene where Bracken is frustrated at finding the killer, and the next shot has the entire cast of suspects all standing nearby looking equally suspicious. Another funny scene is Mary cursing the killer, screaming "bastard!" over and over again in a line reading that would not see an Oscar nomination anytime soon.
"Pieces" has what matters: gore, nudity, and some suspense. It is not perfect, but strangely watchable, and better than much of the slasher fare that Hollywood churns out even today. If you don't see it for the scares, then see it for the victim who wets herself, or the drugged coffee scene, or the kung-fu professor's fight with Mary, or the vomiting cop, or...
Pink Floyd: Delicate Sound of Thunder (1989)
Dave Gilmour, Nick Mason, Richard Wright, and a score of other musicians perform to a rabid crowd at Nassau Coliseum in Long Island, New York in this 1989 concert video. While many fans fuss about Roger Waters' absence from the band as if other great bands have never split up or lost members, Gilmour and company hold together some great songs despite some all too florid direction from music video icon Isham.
Opening and closing with "Shine On," Isham's camera does find incredible backstage footage of the elaborate laser light show accompanying the music. A giant round screen in the middle of the stage plays host to laser light and various film and video incarnations of the Pink Floyd songs being performed. Isham's direction through the first nine or ten songs is fluid and interesting. His camera goes slow motion, capturing the audience's rapture and the band's expertise.
Other songs featured and performed are: "Signs of Life," "Learning to Fly" (with a too short drum solo), "Sorrow," "The Dogs of War" (with a great accompanying video), "On the Turning Away" (the most subdued track), "One of These Days," "Time" (the strongest performance here), "On the Run," "The Great Gig in the Sky," "Wish You Were Here," "Us and Them" (which goes on way too long), "Money," "Comfortably Numb," "One Slip" (the second best sequence), and "Run Like Hell."
About an hour into this one hundred minute video, Isham's camera gets irritating. The songs are great, but he never strays from his directing formula until close to the end of the concert. He is a visualist without a vision, trying to mask unknown flaws or his lack of original ideas after an initial genius outpouring. On the positive side, there is nary a cameraman to be seen anywhere onstage, thanks to some expert editing. The musicians here enjoy the set as much as the audience. Gilmour is caught grinning on occasion, something I do not think he has done on camera since the late '60's. This is not the time to mourn and complain about Waters' departure, this is the time to listen to some truly great music.
While any Pink Floyd fan should snatch this up, film fans in general might like the different take Isham gives to the concert film before becoming a victim to his own excess. Better than most concert films out there, "Delicate Sound of Thunder" booms and roars and provides enough eye-wow to last a while.
Opening and closing with "Shine On," Isham's camera does find incredible backstage footage of the elaborate laser light show accompanying the music. A giant round screen in the middle of the stage plays host to laser light and various film and video incarnations of the Pink Floyd songs being performed. Isham's direction through the first nine or ten songs is fluid and interesting. His camera goes slow motion, capturing the audience's rapture and the band's expertise.
Other songs featured and performed are: "Signs of Life," "Learning to Fly" (with a too short drum solo), "Sorrow," "The Dogs of War" (with a great accompanying video), "On the Turning Away" (the most subdued track), "One of These Days," "Time" (the strongest performance here), "On the Run," "The Great Gig in the Sky," "Wish You Were Here," "Us and Them" (which goes on way too long), "Money," "Comfortably Numb," "One Slip" (the second best sequence), and "Run Like Hell."
About an hour into this one hundred minute video, Isham's camera gets irritating. The songs are great, but he never strays from his directing formula until close to the end of the concert. He is a visualist without a vision, trying to mask unknown flaws or his lack of original ideas after an initial genius outpouring. On the positive side, there is nary a cameraman to be seen anywhere onstage, thanks to some expert editing. The musicians here enjoy the set as much as the audience. Gilmour is caught grinning on occasion, something I do not think he has done on camera since the late '60's. This is not the time to mourn and complain about Waters' departure, this is the time to listen to some truly great music.
While any Pink Floyd fan should snatch this up, film fans in general might like the different take Isham gives to the concert film before becoming a victim to his own excess. Better than most concert films out there, "Delicate Sound of Thunder" booms and roars and provides enough eye-wow to last a while.
Pioneer Woman (1973)
Yet another failed pilot for a 1970's network television show finds its way onto a public domain DVD. Despite an interesting cast and location filming, there is little here.
In 1867 Indiana, Maggie (Joanna Pettet) lives a nice life. She has a clerk husband, John (William Shatner), and two kids (Russell Baer, Helen Hunt) with another on the way. John runs home to announce he has bought eighty acres to farm and they are all moving to Nebraska. Maggie protests, hasn't broken the news about the lil' Star Fleet commander in the oven, but the family boards a train, then a wagon, before finally getting to the land they bought- and the first of many a hardship falls on our title character. Stop reading now if you'd rather watch Pettet suffer through every prairie complication imaginable with surprise.
Some land grabbers have taken John's land. After Shatner gets his toupee and porn star moustache forcibly dunked in a watering hole, Maggie miscarries and the defeated family rides on to Wyoming. They find a homestead that borders gruff rancher Douglas' (a wasted David Janssen) land, and the family plants wheat. John leaves for Cheyenne, something awful happens, and Maggie must fend for herself in the wilderness, waiting for her crop to come in so she can get back to the Hoosier state.
The series would have provided weekly problems for our heroine to deal with. The film touches on a possible romance between Maggie and Douglas as the small community would have started to civilize. As a stand-alone film, "Pioneer Woman" is very mediocre. Pettet goes through every clicheed disaster except for constantly mentioned Indian attacks which was probably being saved for a future episode to the point where her stoicism turns comical. You'll want to boldly go punch Shatner in the face the minute he delivers his first line, his John is annoying, shallow, and possibly requires special needs. The film is narrated from Maggie's diary entries, as Pettet pines and writes. Maggie does toughen, but that's no surprise because she obviously lives through the peril because we hear her diary entries. Helen Hunt's whiny character could use a good spanking. An aspect that works is the location shooting, with Alberta boldly standing in for Wyoming and Nebraska.
Other than that, "Pioneer Woman" is about as flat as the fields the Pioneer Woman farms, making "Little House on the Prairie" look like "The Wild Bunch."
In 1867 Indiana, Maggie (Joanna Pettet) lives a nice life. She has a clerk husband, John (William Shatner), and two kids (Russell Baer, Helen Hunt) with another on the way. John runs home to announce he has bought eighty acres to farm and they are all moving to Nebraska. Maggie protests, hasn't broken the news about the lil' Star Fleet commander in the oven, but the family boards a train, then a wagon, before finally getting to the land they bought- and the first of many a hardship falls on our title character. Stop reading now if you'd rather watch Pettet suffer through every prairie complication imaginable with surprise.
Some land grabbers have taken John's land. After Shatner gets his toupee and porn star moustache forcibly dunked in a watering hole, Maggie miscarries and the defeated family rides on to Wyoming. They find a homestead that borders gruff rancher Douglas' (a wasted David Janssen) land, and the family plants wheat. John leaves for Cheyenne, something awful happens, and Maggie must fend for herself in the wilderness, waiting for her crop to come in so she can get back to the Hoosier state.
The series would have provided weekly problems for our heroine to deal with. The film touches on a possible romance between Maggie and Douglas as the small community would have started to civilize. As a stand-alone film, "Pioneer Woman" is very mediocre. Pettet goes through every clicheed disaster except for constantly mentioned Indian attacks which was probably being saved for a future episode to the point where her stoicism turns comical. You'll want to boldly go punch Shatner in the face the minute he delivers his first line, his John is annoying, shallow, and possibly requires special needs. The film is narrated from Maggie's diary entries, as Pettet pines and writes. Maggie does toughen, but that's no surprise because she obviously lives through the peril because we hear her diary entries. Helen Hunt's whiny character could use a good spanking. An aspect that works is the location shooting, with Alberta boldly standing in for Wyoming and Nebraska.
Other than that, "Pioneer Woman" is about as flat as the fields the Pioneer Woman farms, making "Little House on the Prairie" look like "The Wild Bunch."
Rain Man (1988)
Charlie Babbit (Tom Cruise), a struggling and cocky luxury car dealer finds out his father dies, and goes to Ohio from L.A. to collect his expected inheritance. He finds out he has an older autistic brother named Raymond (Dustin Hoffman) who has all the money put in trust for his care.
Charlie takes Raymond on a drive back to L.A. to await a hearing on custody of Raymond, and the film is, in effect, their cross country journey. I have seen this film many times before, as have others, and I would suggest a new way to view this: watch Tom Cruise's under-appreciated performance. He is very confident and sure of himself, and holds his own against Hoffman. His character does change slightly throughout the film, but Cruise never allows Charlie to do a 180 into sainthood. Even at the climactic hearing, he speaks shortly to Raymond, and their final scene after the hearing, where Raymond leans his head on Charlie's, is wonderful.
Hoffman deserved the Oscar for Best Actor. Sure, everyone did their own Raymond impressions (until Tom Hanks' Forrest Gump came along- why do some people think mental deficiencies are funny?), but Hoffman has rarely been this good since. The screenplay is wonderful, despite a troubled history and multiple endings. The one scene I had a problem with is when Charlie figures out who Raymond was to him as a child, and Levinson basically has Cruise talk to himself as a way to let those in the audience know. I cannot stand the infodump monologue. We can figure it out without Cruise mumbling "they sent you away because they thought you hurt me." This is just quibbling, however, considering other positives here.
Levinson uses overlapping dialogue to a wonderful extent, with Cruise always talking and trying to find a way out of a jam. His scene where he keeps repeating his inheritance, the rose bushes, to his father's lawyer, while the lawyer tries to talk, is funny and a foreshadowing to Hoffman's Raymond. Maybe Raymond does not say some of the things he says because he is autistic, but because he is a Babbit. When Robert Altman used overlapping dialogue, it was sometimes forced, boring, and something you must endure until Sally Kellerman or some other leading lady agrees to take her clothes off. Here, it is very natural. Valeria Golina is also good as Charlie's exasperated Italian girlfriend. Hans Zimmer provides an incredible score that is not used often enough. The pick of songs, from Bananarama's remake of "Nathan Jones," to Etta James' "At Last" seemed to be collected to make the movie work, not because someone wanted a hit soundtrack a la "Footloose" or "Beverly Hills Cop."
"Rain Man" is a great film, and one that deserves a fresh look today.
Charlie takes Raymond on a drive back to L.A. to await a hearing on custody of Raymond, and the film is, in effect, their cross country journey. I have seen this film many times before, as have others, and I would suggest a new way to view this: watch Tom Cruise's under-appreciated performance. He is very confident and sure of himself, and holds his own against Hoffman. His character does change slightly throughout the film, but Cruise never allows Charlie to do a 180 into sainthood. Even at the climactic hearing, he speaks shortly to Raymond, and their final scene after the hearing, where Raymond leans his head on Charlie's, is wonderful.
Hoffman deserved the Oscar for Best Actor. Sure, everyone did their own Raymond impressions (until Tom Hanks' Forrest Gump came along- why do some people think mental deficiencies are funny?), but Hoffman has rarely been this good since. The screenplay is wonderful, despite a troubled history and multiple endings. The one scene I had a problem with is when Charlie figures out who Raymond was to him as a child, and Levinson basically has Cruise talk to himself as a way to let those in the audience know. I cannot stand the infodump monologue. We can figure it out without Cruise mumbling "they sent you away because they thought you hurt me." This is just quibbling, however, considering other positives here.
Levinson uses overlapping dialogue to a wonderful extent, with Cruise always talking and trying to find a way out of a jam. His scene where he keeps repeating his inheritance, the rose bushes, to his father's lawyer, while the lawyer tries to talk, is funny and a foreshadowing to Hoffman's Raymond. Maybe Raymond does not say some of the things he says because he is autistic, but because he is a Babbit. When Robert Altman used overlapping dialogue, it was sometimes forced, boring, and something you must endure until Sally Kellerman or some other leading lady agrees to take her clothes off. Here, it is very natural. Valeria Golina is also good as Charlie's exasperated Italian girlfriend. Hans Zimmer provides an incredible score that is not used often enough. The pick of songs, from Bananarama's remake of "Nathan Jones," to Etta James' "At Last" seemed to be collected to make the movie work, not because someone wanted a hit soundtrack a la "Footloose" or "Beverly Hills Cop."
"Rain Man" is a great film, and one that deserves a fresh look today.
The Red Dwarf (1998)
Watching this film is a lot like watching a good David Lynch film.
Jean-Yves Tual is Lucien, a little person who works at a law firm. His job is to write incriminating letters to divorcing spouses in order to break up their marriages. He meets Isis (Dyna Gauzy), a child trapeze artist in a local traveling circus. They become friends, as Isis sees Lucien as her guardian angel and not a freak of nature. Lucien also meets Paola (an unrecognizable Anita Ekberg). Paola and Lucien start sleeping together, and Lucien falls in love with her, ignoring Isis after a while. Eventually Paola and her husband, the goofy Bob (Arno Chevrier), get back together. In the film's creepiest scene, Lucien, wearing some of Paola's makeup and a wig, strangles his lover to death and blames it on Bob, who has fled the country. Between the sex and the murder, Lucien now has a new found confidence that eventually gets him in trouble at work. Lucien quits, and does something on his boss' desk that we all have wanted to do to our employers at one point or another. Lucien joins Isis' circus, but Bob shows up. He is on the run, and he and Lucien become friends and perform together as clowns. Isis is jealous, and has some very touching scenes sobbing as the crowd doubles over at Lucien and Bob. Lucien and Isis do team up for an act, and this leads to the final ambiguous ending, with director Le Moine leaving us wanting more.
This is a weird film full of weird scenes: Lucien's clandestine bath at Ekberg's house, the smoking cab driver, the law office run more like a cruel boarding school, and the circus performances. Le Moine shoots in black and white, which brings out a bleakness that adds to the French locales. The entire cast is great, professionally playing parts that must have read as impossible on paper. Le Moine draws you into this bizarre vision of his, and uses his camera to uncover things as opposed to being hit over the head with plot points every ten minutes. Thual is brave as Lucien, he has a revealing nude scene, love scenes, and yet he is someone you want to succeed except for that small matter of murder. He looks a little like Christopher Reeve, and holds his own against this cast.
If you fancy yourself a patron of the bizarre, you must watch this film. I highly recommend it.
Jean-Yves Tual is Lucien, a little person who works at a law firm. His job is to write incriminating letters to divorcing spouses in order to break up their marriages. He meets Isis (Dyna Gauzy), a child trapeze artist in a local traveling circus. They become friends, as Isis sees Lucien as her guardian angel and not a freak of nature. Lucien also meets Paola (an unrecognizable Anita Ekberg). Paola and Lucien start sleeping together, and Lucien falls in love with her, ignoring Isis after a while. Eventually Paola and her husband, the goofy Bob (Arno Chevrier), get back together. In the film's creepiest scene, Lucien, wearing some of Paola's makeup and a wig, strangles his lover to death and blames it on Bob, who has fled the country. Between the sex and the murder, Lucien now has a new found confidence that eventually gets him in trouble at work. Lucien quits, and does something on his boss' desk that we all have wanted to do to our employers at one point or another. Lucien joins Isis' circus, but Bob shows up. He is on the run, and he and Lucien become friends and perform together as clowns. Isis is jealous, and has some very touching scenes sobbing as the crowd doubles over at Lucien and Bob. Lucien and Isis do team up for an act, and this leads to the final ambiguous ending, with director Le Moine leaving us wanting more.
This is a weird film full of weird scenes: Lucien's clandestine bath at Ekberg's house, the smoking cab driver, the law office run more like a cruel boarding school, and the circus performances. Le Moine shoots in black and white, which brings out a bleakness that adds to the French locales. The entire cast is great, professionally playing parts that must have read as impossible on paper. Le Moine draws you into this bizarre vision of his, and uses his camera to uncover things as opposed to being hit over the head with plot points every ten minutes. Thual is brave as Lucien, he has a revealing nude scene, love scenes, and yet he is someone you want to succeed except for that small matter of murder. He looks a little like Christopher Reeve, and holds his own against this cast.
If you fancy yourself a patron of the bizarre, you must watch this film. I highly recommend it.
Playing God (1997)
Looking to shake up his Fox Mulder persona, David Duchovny appeared in this over-the-top actioner that failed at the box office but deserves cult status today.
Dr. Eugene Sands (David Duchovny) is your typical synthetic heroin-addicted former surgeon haunted by an operating room death that got his medical license revoked. He cruises seedy Los Angeles nightclubs trying to score dope. In one bar, a patron is shot and Eugene springs into action. Faster than you can say "MacGyver," Eugene saves the man's life with some tape and a coat hanger, all under the watchful eye of Claire (Angelina Jolie). The next thing Eugene knows, he is meeting Claire's boss and lover- mobster Raymond (Timothy Hutton). Eugene gets $10,000 for his services, and doesn't think he will see Raymond and Claire again, until one of Raymond's henchmen shoots Vladimir (Peter Stormare), a Russian mobster Raymond is having problems with. Eugene is brought back in, and saves Vladimir. Eugene has gained the respect of Raymond, the suspicions of Claire, and the attention of FBI agent Gage (Michael Massee). Gage blackmails Eugene to help the FBI and a big shoot-out almost gets Claire killed. That's when the double crosses and back stabbing really begin.
Actually, there isn't a whole lot to like about "Playing God," and any negative reaction to the film is completely understandable. Our hero is a narcotic addicted surgeon wallowing in self-pity. Claire's character is too obvious, and Raymond is a nutcase. Gage might be a dirty cop, but Raymond's henchmen are hilarious. The violence is graphic and gory, leaving nothing to the imagination. The script lacks subtlety, telegraphing major plot points and taking a few too many conveniences. Duchovny's bored narration reminded me of his bored narration on "The Red Shoe Diaries."
On the other hand, Duchovny onscreen is so laid back and at ease, I found myself getting into Eugene's plight. The film does an odd thing as it goes along- it takes itself less and less seriously to the point where there are some light spots in the blood soaked mayhem. While Jolie is too listless until after she is shot, Hutton is a revelation, making me wonder where his second Supporting Actor Oscar nomination was. Raymond is so villainous and despicable he repulses the audience immediately, yet Hutton gives the character so much energy and nuance that Raymond suddenly becomes complicated. Duchovny gets more laughs here than in "Evolution," which isn't hard to do if you have seen "Evolution." Even Massee scores as Gage in another dirty cop role that has been done. Wilson really keeps the direction light and weird (the hotel conversation shot through the glass wall), and the music and song score ratchet the pace up. Although it came out many years before Hollywood celebrities began collecting children from foreign lands for publicity's sake, having Raymond tell Claire to calm down when meeting with Far East mobsters by pretending "you're gonna adopt a Chinese baby" had me howling. Eugene's house call to a bus is another stand out scene.
No, "Playing God" is not a new classic or the best of the 1990's. Thankfully, the film makers realized what they had in time to say "let's give the audience what they want."
Dr. Eugene Sands (David Duchovny) is your typical synthetic heroin-addicted former surgeon haunted by an operating room death that got his medical license revoked. He cruises seedy Los Angeles nightclubs trying to score dope. In one bar, a patron is shot and Eugene springs into action. Faster than you can say "MacGyver," Eugene saves the man's life with some tape and a coat hanger, all under the watchful eye of Claire (Angelina Jolie). The next thing Eugene knows, he is meeting Claire's boss and lover- mobster Raymond (Timothy Hutton). Eugene gets $10,000 for his services, and doesn't think he will see Raymond and Claire again, until one of Raymond's henchmen shoots Vladimir (Peter Stormare), a Russian mobster Raymond is having problems with. Eugene is brought back in, and saves Vladimir. Eugene has gained the respect of Raymond, the suspicions of Claire, and the attention of FBI agent Gage (Michael Massee). Gage blackmails Eugene to help the FBI and a big shoot-out almost gets Claire killed. That's when the double crosses and back stabbing really begin.
Actually, there isn't a whole lot to like about "Playing God," and any negative reaction to the film is completely understandable. Our hero is a narcotic addicted surgeon wallowing in self-pity. Claire's character is too obvious, and Raymond is a nutcase. Gage might be a dirty cop, but Raymond's henchmen are hilarious. The violence is graphic and gory, leaving nothing to the imagination. The script lacks subtlety, telegraphing major plot points and taking a few too many conveniences. Duchovny's bored narration reminded me of his bored narration on "The Red Shoe Diaries."
On the other hand, Duchovny onscreen is so laid back and at ease, I found myself getting into Eugene's plight. The film does an odd thing as it goes along- it takes itself less and less seriously to the point where there are some light spots in the blood soaked mayhem. While Jolie is too listless until after she is shot, Hutton is a revelation, making me wonder where his second Supporting Actor Oscar nomination was. Raymond is so villainous and despicable he repulses the audience immediately, yet Hutton gives the character so much energy and nuance that Raymond suddenly becomes complicated. Duchovny gets more laughs here than in "Evolution," which isn't hard to do if you have seen "Evolution." Even Massee scores as Gage in another dirty cop role that has been done. Wilson really keeps the direction light and weird (the hotel conversation shot through the glass wall), and the music and song score ratchet the pace up. Although it came out many years before Hollywood celebrities began collecting children from foreign lands for publicity's sake, having Raymond tell Claire to calm down when meeting with Far East mobsters by pretending "you're gonna adopt a Chinese baby" had me howling. Eugene's house call to a bus is another stand out scene.
No, "Playing God" is not a new classic or the best of the 1990's. Thankfully, the film makers realized what they had in time to say "let's give the audience what they want."
Red Planet (2000)
In 2057, our planet is dying, choking on man made pollution. A misfit ragtag crew is sent to Mars. We have been sending unmanned probes there in the past. These probes have been depositing algae on the planet, which expels oxygen and will allow man to breathe -couldn't we just deposit the algae back on Earth and save the trip?
The crew consists of five dudes and Bowman (Carrie-Anne Moss). Bowman opens the film with some narration introducing the crew and talking of their differences. Except for Chantilas (Terence Stamp), who is old and thereby gets the thankless role of sexless voice of reason, all the other guys are chauvinist jerks. Gallagher (Val Kilmer), Santen (Benjamin Bratt), Burchenal (Tom Sizemore), and Pettengil (Simon Baker) all have long complicated titles, but really do not do anything in the film to differentiate themselves from each other. They do lust after Bowman and can throw out a lame one liner with the best of them. Things go wrong as soon as their ship gets to the red planet. A space storm renders the ship useless. The guys are sent down to the surface and find no algae. The crew begins to die one by one. A malfunctioning robot is also along for the ride, deciding to take out the crew for wanting to use it for spare parts. The planet station they were to use when they got down to the surface is destroyed by unseen forces, possibly another life form. Finally, how come everyone can breathe when all the algae is missing?
You might be thinking: cool; a killer robot, a flipped-out, murdering scientist, alien life forms, and a cosmic being that may or may not be watching over the crew. Throw in Moss back on the ship trying to hold everything together and this is going to be one suspense filled, action packed ride- not.
As the film progresses, and more of the crew is dispatched, I came to the conclusion that three or four plotlines were fighting for my attention but none were succeeding in holding it. You could make a film that stands alone on any of the robot/psycho/alien villains/space God threads, yet when thrown together they did not yield exciting chaos but scant attention to each individual subplot. The cast is very capable, pulling off lots of scientific jargon and rewiring of impossibly damaged equipment without a hitch, but so much more is left up in the air, and some characters even acknowledge that. How do the life forms make oxygen? Don't know. How is an indestructible robot so easily dispatched? Don't know. How are characters able to survive huge explosions that seem on the same scale as Nevada desert nuclear plumes of the 1950's? Don't know. Why is Terence Stamp in this picture? Don't know.
Chantilas' little quiet philosophical conversations amount to absolutely nothing, as God does not swoop in at any point here to save the boys, at least in an obvious way. Throw in the dull romance between Bowman and Gallagher, and you have some definite script problems. While the special effects are lovely and a wonder to look at, they are set to a Graeme Revell musical score that is equally schizophrenic. At some points, I heard the old theme to "Star Trek," and at other points a tabernacle choir takes us through the action. The film makers could not make up their minds, and neither could Revell.
In the end, "Red Planet," like its competitor "Mission to Mars," is pretty to look at and shows technical triumph. The film makers seemed to get the future right, but they forgot to serve the base human emotions of excitement at the proceedings and caring for the characters. I do not recommend this angry "Red Planet."
The crew consists of five dudes and Bowman (Carrie-Anne Moss). Bowman opens the film with some narration introducing the crew and talking of their differences. Except for Chantilas (Terence Stamp), who is old and thereby gets the thankless role of sexless voice of reason, all the other guys are chauvinist jerks. Gallagher (Val Kilmer), Santen (Benjamin Bratt), Burchenal (Tom Sizemore), and Pettengil (Simon Baker) all have long complicated titles, but really do not do anything in the film to differentiate themselves from each other. They do lust after Bowman and can throw out a lame one liner with the best of them. Things go wrong as soon as their ship gets to the red planet. A space storm renders the ship useless. The guys are sent down to the surface and find no algae. The crew begins to die one by one. A malfunctioning robot is also along for the ride, deciding to take out the crew for wanting to use it for spare parts. The planet station they were to use when they got down to the surface is destroyed by unseen forces, possibly another life form. Finally, how come everyone can breathe when all the algae is missing?
You might be thinking: cool; a killer robot, a flipped-out, murdering scientist, alien life forms, and a cosmic being that may or may not be watching over the crew. Throw in Moss back on the ship trying to hold everything together and this is going to be one suspense filled, action packed ride- not.
As the film progresses, and more of the crew is dispatched, I came to the conclusion that three or four plotlines were fighting for my attention but none were succeeding in holding it. You could make a film that stands alone on any of the robot/psycho/alien villains/space God threads, yet when thrown together they did not yield exciting chaos but scant attention to each individual subplot. The cast is very capable, pulling off lots of scientific jargon and rewiring of impossibly damaged equipment without a hitch, but so much more is left up in the air, and some characters even acknowledge that. How do the life forms make oxygen? Don't know. How is an indestructible robot so easily dispatched? Don't know. How are characters able to survive huge explosions that seem on the same scale as Nevada desert nuclear plumes of the 1950's? Don't know. Why is Terence Stamp in this picture? Don't know.
Chantilas' little quiet philosophical conversations amount to absolutely nothing, as God does not swoop in at any point here to save the boys, at least in an obvious way. Throw in the dull romance between Bowman and Gallagher, and you have some definite script problems. While the special effects are lovely and a wonder to look at, they are set to a Graeme Revell musical score that is equally schizophrenic. At some points, I heard the old theme to "Star Trek," and at other points a tabernacle choir takes us through the action. The film makers could not make up their minds, and neither could Revell.
In the end, "Red Planet," like its competitor "Mission to Mars," is pretty to look at and shows technical triumph. The film makers seemed to get the future right, but they forgot to serve the base human emotions of excitement at the proceedings and caring for the characters. I do not recommend this angry "Red Planet."
Redneck Zombies (1987)
"Redneck Zombies- The Director's Cut"? Finally, someone restored this cinematic achievement to the glory that the director intended, censors be damned.
The story, as it were, has a barrel of nuclear waste being dumped in the backwoods and turned into moonshine by a redneck family. The rednecks become the title after drinking the stuff, and attack some well-meaning, pot smoking campers. The entire film is a series of very gory attacks as the zombies multiply thanks to all the moonshiner's customers. Instead of killing the zombies with gunshots to the head, the campers find they can kill them with spray antiperspirant.
This came out way before Jeff Foxworthy made a career of making fun of people from the south. The stereotypes here are all offensive, as the filmmakers make fun of everyone. The comedy is of the "Hee Haw" variety, with plenty of "I'm so stupid" jokes, as well as a ripoff of better horror films like "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre."
Most impressive here are the gore effects. This was obviously shot on video, but the nonstop gore is very good. The cast are all local talent, and do what they can with the material, although the makeup effects are the real star. The movie is not very good, but future film makers might see that you do not need a huge budget to get some very good gore effects on camera.
"Redneck Zombies- The Director's Cut" comes from Troma Video, and the barrage of commercials at the beginning of the video will attest to that. I am not a huge Troma fan, but this silliness is one of their better efforts.
The story, as it were, has a barrel of nuclear waste being dumped in the backwoods and turned into moonshine by a redneck family. The rednecks become the title after drinking the stuff, and attack some well-meaning, pot smoking campers. The entire film is a series of very gory attacks as the zombies multiply thanks to all the moonshiner's customers. Instead of killing the zombies with gunshots to the head, the campers find they can kill them with spray antiperspirant.
This came out way before Jeff Foxworthy made a career of making fun of people from the south. The stereotypes here are all offensive, as the filmmakers make fun of everyone. The comedy is of the "Hee Haw" variety, with plenty of "I'm so stupid" jokes, as well as a ripoff of better horror films like "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre."
Most impressive here are the gore effects. This was obviously shot on video, but the nonstop gore is very good. The cast are all local talent, and do what they can with the material, although the makeup effects are the real star. The movie is not very good, but future film makers might see that you do not need a huge budget to get some very good gore effects on camera.
"Redneck Zombies- The Director's Cut" comes from Troma Video, and the barrage of commercials at the beginning of the video will attest to that. I am not a huge Troma fan, but this silliness is one of their better efforts.
The Strongest Man in the World (1975)
A good natured Disney film suffers from the absence of its main star, Kurt Russell.
Russell is Dexter, he of other assorted Disney films involving the lucky Medfield University student who gets into a variety of trouble. This time around, Dexter and his nerdy pals accidentally create a formula that gives whoever takes it superhuman strength. Wrongly, they think the formula is a combination of vitamins added to a cereal. Dean Higgins (Joe Flynn) comes up with a plan. Medfield, sponsored by Aunt Harriet's (Eve Arden) cereal company, challenges the State University weight lifting team to a match. State is sponsored by a rival cereal company run by Krinkle (Phil Silvers). The large cast expands as Krinkle and his industrial spy Harry (Dick Van Patten) hire Arno (Cesar Romero) to get the formula from one of Dexter's goofy friends.
Despite the scant plot, I found myself laughing out loud through most of this. The slapstick is funny, and the cast mugs their faces off for the kids. Joe Flynn is a riot as the flustered dean, stealing every scene he is in. Russell is likable enough as Dexter, but he disappears for much of the middle of the film so as to let the adults get their screen time. Filmed in the mid 1970's, there are dated characters and situations all over the place. This datedness includes a horrible scene in a Chinese restaurant that smacks of racism. This is Disney, so every plot point is telegraphed. The cast is filled with familiar faces from film and television, and it certainly is comfortable. The film makers do not dumb it down for the kiddies, but there is not enough here to keep the adults entertained, either. When I used to see the words "live action Disney film," I'd cringe.
"The Strongest Man in the World" provides laughs and thrills, but cringe will soon set in.
Russell is Dexter, he of other assorted Disney films involving the lucky Medfield University student who gets into a variety of trouble. This time around, Dexter and his nerdy pals accidentally create a formula that gives whoever takes it superhuman strength. Wrongly, they think the formula is a combination of vitamins added to a cereal. Dean Higgins (Joe Flynn) comes up with a plan. Medfield, sponsored by Aunt Harriet's (Eve Arden) cereal company, challenges the State University weight lifting team to a match. State is sponsored by a rival cereal company run by Krinkle (Phil Silvers). The large cast expands as Krinkle and his industrial spy Harry (Dick Van Patten) hire Arno (Cesar Romero) to get the formula from one of Dexter's goofy friends.
Despite the scant plot, I found myself laughing out loud through most of this. The slapstick is funny, and the cast mugs their faces off for the kids. Joe Flynn is a riot as the flustered dean, stealing every scene he is in. Russell is likable enough as Dexter, but he disappears for much of the middle of the film so as to let the adults get their screen time. Filmed in the mid 1970's, there are dated characters and situations all over the place. This datedness includes a horrible scene in a Chinese restaurant that smacks of racism. This is Disney, so every plot point is telegraphed. The cast is filled with familiar faces from film and television, and it certainly is comfortable. The film makers do not dumb it down for the kiddies, but there is not enough here to keep the adults entertained, either. When I used to see the words "live action Disney film," I'd cringe.
"The Strongest Man in the World" provides laughs and thrills, but cringe will soon set in.
The String (2009)
"The String" is a tricky film. It addresses familial and religious conflict, yet provides its characters with an interesting reality that completely engaged this viewer.
Architect Malik (Antonin Stahly Viswanadhan) has returned to Tunisia to see his recently widowed mother Sara (Claudia Cardinale). Sara has hired on handyman Bilal (Salim Kechiouche) and conservative cook Wafa (Rihab Mejri) to help her around the house. Malik is already torn between his Arab and French worlds, and has not yet come out to his mother about his other internal conflict- he is gay. He learns Bilal might also be gay, and tries to get to know the young man while still keeping a master/servant relationship. Malik is working on a mosque design, and his lesbian coworker Siryne (Ramla Ayari) wants him to father her child. Malik must confront these new relationships, and deal with a mother who is in denial about her son.
The film's title comes from a piece of string that can be seen attached to Malik from time to time. The string represents the hold both his mother and his upbringing have on the man, and it is something he has dealt with since he was a child. On the surface, you might assume where the film is going. You hear about strings, and overbearing mothers, and Muslim customs, and prepare for the fireworks. Co-writer/director Mehdi Ben Attia balances things perfectly, not going overboard with melodramatics and assumptions. Tunisia and its French influence are completely unknown to me, but setting this story there is educational as well as compelling. The string subplot doesn't get silly, the film is respectful of the Muslim characters without mocking them or their beliefs, and Cardinale portrays the clicheed "overbearing mother" role so elegantly and sympathetically that you cannot help but like her despite her sometimes abrasive behavior.
The Tunisian locations are stunning. The film makers don't shy away from some less than pretty urban scenes, but the beach scenes are incredible to watch. The cast is fantastic across the board. Stahly's Malik (or Hakim to his Arab friends and family) is still hurting from his father's death, and seeing his extended family again after so many months is a bit of a culture shock. Thankfully, Ben Attia does not write Bilal as some boorish caveman with no brains. Kechiouche turns him into a likable character who is also unsure about pursuing a relationship with his employer's son.
What can I say about Claudia Cardinale? I had been in love with her since her 1960's work. She was older when I screened this, but still had a beautiful spark in her eye, and held her own against the mostly younger cast. She has a great scene with Kechiouche as Sara describes being the outsider at her own wedding, and perhaps understanding what Bilal and Malik are going through.
While I would have liked to see more follow-through with a couple of subplots like the fake cop scene, the mosque's need for parking, Malik's cousin, and Sara's mother-in-law, "The String" is a nice little film that doesn't let its exoticism get away from it.
Architect Malik (Antonin Stahly Viswanadhan) has returned to Tunisia to see his recently widowed mother Sara (Claudia Cardinale). Sara has hired on handyman Bilal (Salim Kechiouche) and conservative cook Wafa (Rihab Mejri) to help her around the house. Malik is already torn between his Arab and French worlds, and has not yet come out to his mother about his other internal conflict- he is gay. He learns Bilal might also be gay, and tries to get to know the young man while still keeping a master/servant relationship. Malik is working on a mosque design, and his lesbian coworker Siryne (Ramla Ayari) wants him to father her child. Malik must confront these new relationships, and deal with a mother who is in denial about her son.
The film's title comes from a piece of string that can be seen attached to Malik from time to time. The string represents the hold both his mother and his upbringing have on the man, and it is something he has dealt with since he was a child. On the surface, you might assume where the film is going. You hear about strings, and overbearing mothers, and Muslim customs, and prepare for the fireworks. Co-writer/director Mehdi Ben Attia balances things perfectly, not going overboard with melodramatics and assumptions. Tunisia and its French influence are completely unknown to me, but setting this story there is educational as well as compelling. The string subplot doesn't get silly, the film is respectful of the Muslim characters without mocking them or their beliefs, and Cardinale portrays the clicheed "overbearing mother" role so elegantly and sympathetically that you cannot help but like her despite her sometimes abrasive behavior.
The Tunisian locations are stunning. The film makers don't shy away from some less than pretty urban scenes, but the beach scenes are incredible to watch. The cast is fantastic across the board. Stahly's Malik (or Hakim to his Arab friends and family) is still hurting from his father's death, and seeing his extended family again after so many months is a bit of a culture shock. Thankfully, Ben Attia does not write Bilal as some boorish caveman with no brains. Kechiouche turns him into a likable character who is also unsure about pursuing a relationship with his employer's son.
What can I say about Claudia Cardinale? I had been in love with her since her 1960's work. She was older when I screened this, but still had a beautiful spark in her eye, and held her own against the mostly younger cast. She has a great scene with Kechiouche as Sara describes being the outsider at her own wedding, and perhaps understanding what Bilal and Malik are going through.
While I would have liked to see more follow-through with a couple of subplots like the fake cop scene, the mosque's need for parking, Malik's cousin, and Sara's mother-in-law, "The String" is a nice little film that doesn't let its exoticism get away from it.
The Street Fighter's Last Revenge (1974)
In order to take the series in a new direction, the film makers dropped the rough and tough street fighter motif in favor of some really bad 007 and "Mission: Impossible" stuff.
The simple plot starts when Tsurugi (Sonny Chiba) gets double crossed by some drug dealers who need two audio tapes in order to create cheap synthetic heroin. He also gets mixed up with a corrupt District Attorney, who kicks Tsurugi's bootay thanks to an ancient Korean martial arts technique. The D.A. is also playing both sides of the fence, and the Street Fighter and the D.A. end up bedding one of the hottie girl villainesses, leading to an explosive finale.
Chiba dons a mask not once but THREE different times, pulling it off like a poor man's Martin Landau. He also has a secret room in his apartment, and sleeps with the villainess- what happened to the Street Fighter? Chiba wears disguises from which his identity is discovered anyway. At one point, he has two giant suitcases of money as payment for the heroin recipe tapes. He sleeps with the villainess, who distracts him long enough for the suitcases to be stolen. Did Chiba hide the money elsewhere, knowing the villainess' plan? Did he booby trap the suitcases, knowing the henchmen would be after them? No! Now he has to get the money back again. For an international hitman, scrappy street smart karate expert, and champion of justice, he sure does some stupid things in this film. By the time the Bond-like villain shows up (a guy in a sombrero with lasers hidden up the sleeves of his bull fighting uniform?) the film had lost me. A subplot involving an answering service girl who has a crush on Chiba goes nowhere.
"The Street Fighter's Last Revenge" is by far the worst of the first three Street Fighter films. I cannot recommend it.
The simple plot starts when Tsurugi (Sonny Chiba) gets double crossed by some drug dealers who need two audio tapes in order to create cheap synthetic heroin. He also gets mixed up with a corrupt District Attorney, who kicks Tsurugi's bootay thanks to an ancient Korean martial arts technique. The D.A. is also playing both sides of the fence, and the Street Fighter and the D.A. end up bedding one of the hottie girl villainesses, leading to an explosive finale.
Chiba dons a mask not once but THREE different times, pulling it off like a poor man's Martin Landau. He also has a secret room in his apartment, and sleeps with the villainess- what happened to the Street Fighter? Chiba wears disguises from which his identity is discovered anyway. At one point, he has two giant suitcases of money as payment for the heroin recipe tapes. He sleeps with the villainess, who distracts him long enough for the suitcases to be stolen. Did Chiba hide the money elsewhere, knowing the villainess' plan? Did he booby trap the suitcases, knowing the henchmen would be after them? No! Now he has to get the money back again. For an international hitman, scrappy street smart karate expert, and champion of justice, he sure does some stupid things in this film. By the time the Bond-like villain shows up (a guy in a sombrero with lasers hidden up the sleeves of his bull fighting uniform?) the film had lost me. A subplot involving an answering service girl who has a crush on Chiba goes nowhere.
"The Street Fighter's Last Revenge" is by far the worst of the first three Street Fighter films. I cannot recommend it.
Streamers (1983)
David Rabe's much heralded Vietnam era play about racism and homosexuality makes a shaky translation to film under the wandering directorial eye of Robert Altman.
The entire film takes place in a barracks as young men and their sergeants wait for their orders to go fight in southeast Asia. Billy (Matthew Modine) and Roger (David Alan Grier) are good friends who do not see the differing race in each other. Richie (Mitchell Lichtenstein) is an out homosexual who has a crush on Billy. Carlyle (Michael Wright) is an acquaintance of Roger's from the neighborhood, an angry man who has just arrived on base and already hates everything about the army. Cokes (George Dzundza) and Rooney (Guy Boyd) are the platoon's two very drunk sergeants, who regale the recruits with tales of Korea.
Running almost two hours, the film really has no plot per se. Billy and Roger are fascinated and repulsed by the thought that Richie might be gay. Carlyle is a hateful person who feels the entire world is against him, and he is more correct than he knows. Cokes and Rooney are biding time until retirement, certainly not expecting combat duty after what they saw in Korea. The film's title comes from a story the sergeants tell about seeing parachutists fall to their deaths when their chutes do not deploy- unopened, they looked like streamers in the sky.
This is a filmed stage play, and Rabe and Altman make no effort to open it up. All the action takes place in the small barracks. Everyone has little scenes together as other actors make exits, just like in a theatre production. While Billy says he is turned off by Richie, we sense an underlying sexual tension. Carlyle and Richie begin getting close, and the coupling affects Billy and Roger. In the background, Rooney and Cokes play hide and seek, and the entire movie boils down to one character finally snapping and killing two others. Altman and Rabe then drag this out further, and the viewer is ultimately bored silly.
Rabe's script is problematic. Keeping all the action in one room never achieves a claustrophobic feel. Carlyle is angry immediately, so we spend the rest of the film watching him take out his anger on Roger and the other boys. Roger does not want to rock the boat, and Billy is college educated so he dumbs himself down to be one of the guys- we sense there is more to him right away. All of this information is thrown at the viewer, and there is no suspense left. We are given all the characterization we can handle in the opening minutes, and it is dull to watch the rest of the cast try and catch up with us. Altman's camera meanders around his set, trying to find a "moment," but his editing should have been tighter. All the actors get their scenery chewing monologue, and Altman's camera explores other's reactions, but his closeups still do not lend themselves to the nonexistent claustrophobia. Without the tension, this quickly becomes tedious.
Acting-wise, the small cast comes off the best. I have never liked Modine, but he does well with what he is given. Lichtenstein takes a stereotype and makes him very sympathetic. Grier shows off some of the expressions that make him funny in his career as a comedian, but his part is very dramatic, and he handles it well. Boyd and Dzundza are alright, although their parts are so annoying I cannot imagine anyone playing them well. The best performance here is by Wright, who is unapologetically furious and violent one minute, then nice the next. His portrayal of Carlyle is great stuff.
Despite the fine acting all around, Altman and Rabe tried to create a tense and claustrophobic film that comes off loose and dull. "Streamers" is a failed exercise.
The entire film takes place in a barracks as young men and their sergeants wait for their orders to go fight in southeast Asia. Billy (Matthew Modine) and Roger (David Alan Grier) are good friends who do not see the differing race in each other. Richie (Mitchell Lichtenstein) is an out homosexual who has a crush on Billy. Carlyle (Michael Wright) is an acquaintance of Roger's from the neighborhood, an angry man who has just arrived on base and already hates everything about the army. Cokes (George Dzundza) and Rooney (Guy Boyd) are the platoon's two very drunk sergeants, who regale the recruits with tales of Korea.
Running almost two hours, the film really has no plot per se. Billy and Roger are fascinated and repulsed by the thought that Richie might be gay. Carlyle is a hateful person who feels the entire world is against him, and he is more correct than he knows. Cokes and Rooney are biding time until retirement, certainly not expecting combat duty after what they saw in Korea. The film's title comes from a story the sergeants tell about seeing parachutists fall to their deaths when their chutes do not deploy- unopened, they looked like streamers in the sky.
This is a filmed stage play, and Rabe and Altman make no effort to open it up. All the action takes place in the small barracks. Everyone has little scenes together as other actors make exits, just like in a theatre production. While Billy says he is turned off by Richie, we sense an underlying sexual tension. Carlyle and Richie begin getting close, and the coupling affects Billy and Roger. In the background, Rooney and Cokes play hide and seek, and the entire movie boils down to one character finally snapping and killing two others. Altman and Rabe then drag this out further, and the viewer is ultimately bored silly.
Rabe's script is problematic. Keeping all the action in one room never achieves a claustrophobic feel. Carlyle is angry immediately, so we spend the rest of the film watching him take out his anger on Roger and the other boys. Roger does not want to rock the boat, and Billy is college educated so he dumbs himself down to be one of the guys- we sense there is more to him right away. All of this information is thrown at the viewer, and there is no suspense left. We are given all the characterization we can handle in the opening minutes, and it is dull to watch the rest of the cast try and catch up with us. Altman's camera meanders around his set, trying to find a "moment," but his editing should have been tighter. All the actors get their scenery chewing monologue, and Altman's camera explores other's reactions, but his closeups still do not lend themselves to the nonexistent claustrophobia. Without the tension, this quickly becomes tedious.
Acting-wise, the small cast comes off the best. I have never liked Modine, but he does well with what he is given. Lichtenstein takes a stereotype and makes him very sympathetic. Grier shows off some of the expressions that make him funny in his career as a comedian, but his part is very dramatic, and he handles it well. Boyd and Dzundza are alright, although their parts are so annoying I cannot imagine anyone playing them well. The best performance here is by Wright, who is unapologetically furious and violent one minute, then nice the next. His portrayal of Carlyle is great stuff.
Despite the fine acting all around, Altman and Rabe tried to create a tense and claustrophobic film that comes off loose and dull. "Streamers" is a failed exercise.
Strapped (2010)
A young hustler wanders around a seedy apartment building looking for the exit, and meets his share of different tenants in Joseph Graham's first-rate character study.
The unnamed hustler (Benjamin Bonenfant) has just bedded John (Artem Mishin). We never see the hustler arrive at the building, or how he met John, since the entire film takes place within the apartment building's walls. John is not very experienced, and the hustler (who calls himself 'Alex,' just like the first man John fell in love with) is tender with the nervous man. The hustler leaves, but cannot seem to find his way out of the building. He is then recognized as 'Eddy' by Leon (Carlo D'Amore), a loudmouth who has a small drug party going in his apartment. There, the hustler plays up his role as a go-go boy, dancing for the group, which includes a shy Gary (Nick Frangione). The hustler continues his search for the exit, later meeting a self-loathing young father (Michael Klinger), and an older lonely man named Sam (Paul Gerrior, in an outstanding supporting turn). Of course, the hustler's search for the exit to the building is metaphorical, as is his ability to become whatever his clients want him to be, as long as he gets paid when all is said and done.
What Joseph Graham has done here is astonishing in its complexity concerning its central character. Hustlers have been portrayed before, but I really came to care for this one. Graham's script doesn't play off your sympathies, but more the viewers' curiosity about this handsome young man who must resort to this kind of life for cash. The hustler is able to change his name and the way he carries himself based solely on what he thinks his johns want. He tells Sam he does not have any regulars, preferring the adventure of anonymous sex with different people.
Don't look for a "The Twilight Zone"-type payoff as the young man finally sees his way out, the film isn't really about that. We watch a person who controls every situation he is in by changing the way others see him suddenly get the tables turned on him, but not in a malicious way. Ben Bonenfant is fantastic. He comes from a theater background, and his experience shows. While he is able to adapt to each different circumstance, Bonenfant does not overplay each role. He finds the perfect balance, staying part hustler and part tender lover/go-go boy/etc. The rest of the cast is great- D'Amore's Leon is flamboyant and obnoxious on the surface, but becomes sadder the more we watch him. Paul Gerrior's scene with Bonenfant is wonderful and expertly done, in a perfect world, he would have scored some supporting actor gold statuettes. The rest of the cast never hit a false mark or line.
Graham's apartment set is dingy and wonderful. His choice of songs and music heighten the emotion without calling attention to itself. The editing is superb, and his direction is great. His script is rich with small details about both the hustler and the building's tenants, a second viewing might be in order to take even more of it in.
"Strapped" is an emotional journey through both an apartment complex and a young man's self-realization. It is mentally demanding, occasionally sad, and really something to treasure. This was one of my favorite films of the year.
The unnamed hustler (Benjamin Bonenfant) has just bedded John (Artem Mishin). We never see the hustler arrive at the building, or how he met John, since the entire film takes place within the apartment building's walls. John is not very experienced, and the hustler (who calls himself 'Alex,' just like the first man John fell in love with) is tender with the nervous man. The hustler leaves, but cannot seem to find his way out of the building. He is then recognized as 'Eddy' by Leon (Carlo D'Amore), a loudmouth who has a small drug party going in his apartment. There, the hustler plays up his role as a go-go boy, dancing for the group, which includes a shy Gary (Nick Frangione). The hustler continues his search for the exit, later meeting a self-loathing young father (Michael Klinger), and an older lonely man named Sam (Paul Gerrior, in an outstanding supporting turn). Of course, the hustler's search for the exit to the building is metaphorical, as is his ability to become whatever his clients want him to be, as long as he gets paid when all is said and done.
What Joseph Graham has done here is astonishing in its complexity concerning its central character. Hustlers have been portrayed before, but I really came to care for this one. Graham's script doesn't play off your sympathies, but more the viewers' curiosity about this handsome young man who must resort to this kind of life for cash. The hustler is able to change his name and the way he carries himself based solely on what he thinks his johns want. He tells Sam he does not have any regulars, preferring the adventure of anonymous sex with different people.
Don't look for a "The Twilight Zone"-type payoff as the young man finally sees his way out, the film isn't really about that. We watch a person who controls every situation he is in by changing the way others see him suddenly get the tables turned on him, but not in a malicious way. Ben Bonenfant is fantastic. He comes from a theater background, and his experience shows. While he is able to adapt to each different circumstance, Bonenfant does not overplay each role. He finds the perfect balance, staying part hustler and part tender lover/go-go boy/etc. The rest of the cast is great- D'Amore's Leon is flamboyant and obnoxious on the surface, but becomes sadder the more we watch him. Paul Gerrior's scene with Bonenfant is wonderful and expertly done, in a perfect world, he would have scored some supporting actor gold statuettes. The rest of the cast never hit a false mark or line.
Graham's apartment set is dingy and wonderful. His choice of songs and music heighten the emotion without calling attention to itself. The editing is superb, and his direction is great. His script is rich with small details about both the hustler and the building's tenants, a second viewing might be in order to take even more of it in.
"Strapped" is an emotional journey through both an apartment complex and a young man's self-realization. It is mentally demanding, occasionally sad, and really something to treasure. This was one of my favorite films of the year.
Storm of the Century (1999)
Stephen King penned this original script that was turned into a bloated four hour miniseries full of competent acting, a creepy villain, some good special effects, and even a little suspense. Like a lot of King's work, the build up is better than the payoff.
Little Tall Island off the coast of Maine has four hundred residents, half of whom have vacated to the mainland to avoid a horrible storm bearing down on the area. The other two hundred stay- tough folk ready to ride it out. On the eve of the storm, old lady Clarendon is bludgeoned to death by a mysterious stranger (Colm Feore) who makes himself at home in her easy chair, watching TV and sipping tea. He makes no effort to fight when Constable Mike Anderson (Timothy Daly) arrests him, and takes him to the jail cell located in the back of Anderson's small grocery store. The murderer is one Andre Linoge, who is a little odd. Sometimes his eyes glow red, he has fangs, and the wolf figurine on his missing cane tends to come alive. Everybody is afraid of Linoge, but they fear the storm more, and gather at the local town hall. From his cell, Linoge is able to control people, forcing them to kill themselves or others on a whim. He is after the entire island, always repeating the same phrase: "Give me what I want and I'll go away." The phrase becomes the suicide mantra of the helpless residents and the town eventually finds out what Linoge wants.
The cast assembled for this miniseries is good. Timothy Daly is believable as the constable/store owner. Debrah Farentino as his wife Molly has some good scenes without becoming a clicheed "stand by your man" gal. Casey Siemaszko as Mike's friend Hatch has the Maine accent down cold. The reliable Jeffrey DeMunn is slimy as the town manager Beals, whose own self-centeredness is utterly believable to anyone who has ever lived in a small town. The scariest performance here is Colm Feore's Andre Linoge. He is from the Hannibal Lecter school of villainy, a seemingly smart man who enunciates clearly, whether revealing deep dark secrets of the different townspeople, or calmly enacting murder and suicide from his cell. Feore is excellent here, and should have earned more kudos for this role.
King's script, on the other hand, is a mess. Recent history has television remaking a lot of King's films into miniseries because that is the only way they can come through coherently. If anything, "Storm of the Century" could have been cut in half and still made a pretty decent theatrical film. Half way through, King introduces three different plot points that all could have been done away with: a character who suddenly reveals she is psychic, a priest with a secret who appears as if from nowhere, and Mike's ability to quote the Bible and his unexpected expertise on demons. A good editor may have been able to work this into a leaner vehicle- watch for the climactic town hall meeting which feels longer than the storm itself, and the epilogue which also runs about five minutes too long. Craig Baxley's direction is fantastic. Everything is covered in cold blue light, the snow storm is totally believable, and the gore effects are good without going over the top. His silliest sequence involves flying- I did roll my eyes.
"Give me what I want and I'll go away," says Andre. What this reviewer wanted was scares. He got some, but not enough to set this apart from other King efforts. I haven't read one of his novels in years, this film reminded me why. This storm should have knocked the wind out of me, not mess my non-existent hair up a little.
Little Tall Island off the coast of Maine has four hundred residents, half of whom have vacated to the mainland to avoid a horrible storm bearing down on the area. The other two hundred stay- tough folk ready to ride it out. On the eve of the storm, old lady Clarendon is bludgeoned to death by a mysterious stranger (Colm Feore) who makes himself at home in her easy chair, watching TV and sipping tea. He makes no effort to fight when Constable Mike Anderson (Timothy Daly) arrests him, and takes him to the jail cell located in the back of Anderson's small grocery store. The murderer is one Andre Linoge, who is a little odd. Sometimes his eyes glow red, he has fangs, and the wolf figurine on his missing cane tends to come alive. Everybody is afraid of Linoge, but they fear the storm more, and gather at the local town hall. From his cell, Linoge is able to control people, forcing them to kill themselves or others on a whim. He is after the entire island, always repeating the same phrase: "Give me what I want and I'll go away." The phrase becomes the suicide mantra of the helpless residents and the town eventually finds out what Linoge wants.
The cast assembled for this miniseries is good. Timothy Daly is believable as the constable/store owner. Debrah Farentino as his wife Molly has some good scenes without becoming a clicheed "stand by your man" gal. Casey Siemaszko as Mike's friend Hatch has the Maine accent down cold. The reliable Jeffrey DeMunn is slimy as the town manager Beals, whose own self-centeredness is utterly believable to anyone who has ever lived in a small town. The scariest performance here is Colm Feore's Andre Linoge. He is from the Hannibal Lecter school of villainy, a seemingly smart man who enunciates clearly, whether revealing deep dark secrets of the different townspeople, or calmly enacting murder and suicide from his cell. Feore is excellent here, and should have earned more kudos for this role.
King's script, on the other hand, is a mess. Recent history has television remaking a lot of King's films into miniseries because that is the only way they can come through coherently. If anything, "Storm of the Century" could have been cut in half and still made a pretty decent theatrical film. Half way through, King introduces three different plot points that all could have been done away with: a character who suddenly reveals she is psychic, a priest with a secret who appears as if from nowhere, and Mike's ability to quote the Bible and his unexpected expertise on demons. A good editor may have been able to work this into a leaner vehicle- watch for the climactic town hall meeting which feels longer than the storm itself, and the epilogue which also runs about five minutes too long. Craig Baxley's direction is fantastic. Everything is covered in cold blue light, the snow storm is totally believable, and the gore effects are good without going over the top. His silliest sequence involves flying- I did roll my eyes.
"Give me what I want and I'll go away," says Andre. What this reviewer wanted was scares. He got some, but not enough to set this apart from other King efforts. I haven't read one of his novels in years, this film reminded me why. This storm should have knocked the wind out of me, not mess my non-existent hair up a little.
Stocking Stuffers (2001)
The title of this short film can refer to both a woman's leg, or the gift inside a stocking. Writer/director Angel Connell plays with words here, telling us it is both.
Although clocking in at under eight minutes, the film is divided into two parts. The first part begins with a graphic that reads "Consuming the Commodities of the Heart," and show us that awkward end-of-the-date moment when an unnamed man (Eric Scheiner) wants a little "dessert" from an unnamed woman (Christy Scott-Chapman). The woman has her pantyhosed legs in the man's lap, and the two deliver massive amounts of pun laden dialogue mostly centering around the vital commodity of food.
The second part of the film reverses the title of the first part: "The Heartfelt Commodification of Consumption." It contains three fake TV commercials for Sheek pantyhose, available in fine lingerie stores everywhere. Scott-Cashman is a blonde wigged spokeswoman wearing nothing but the pantyhose. Scheiner returns as a guy telling the viewer about the pantyhose while two hose-clad feet playfully nuzzle his face. Both ads tell the viewer that women should wear Sheek pantyhose, or nothing at all. The third ad has the man and woman nude in bed together, with the Sheek ad line changed. Why go nude when you can wear Sheek?
It took a couple of viewings of the film for me to appreciate what Connell was doing. The two parts could be interchanged, the first part's female character having seen the Sheek ads, and demanding her body be seen as more than just a product. The second part of the film shows how just a switch of a few words can change the entire meaning of a sentence, and how intelligent the viewing public is- or thinks it is.
The only two actors in the film are fine, I still watch Scheiner today on MRCTV. Often, a short film serves as a long preview for a full-length feature that will get financing someday, but Connell's effort does not feel that way. He says what needs to be said without overstaying his welcome or underwhelming the audience with dumbed down dialogue or obvious "here's what this means" statements. Perry Iannone's musical score irritated the hell out of me at first, but I came to like its build in the first part.
"Stocking Stuffers" is billed as a thinking person's film. What each person gets out of it may vary, but I found that whatever the outcome, it still worked.
Although clocking in at under eight minutes, the film is divided into two parts. The first part begins with a graphic that reads "Consuming the Commodities of the Heart," and show us that awkward end-of-the-date moment when an unnamed man (Eric Scheiner) wants a little "dessert" from an unnamed woman (Christy Scott-Chapman). The woman has her pantyhosed legs in the man's lap, and the two deliver massive amounts of pun laden dialogue mostly centering around the vital commodity of food.
The second part of the film reverses the title of the first part: "The Heartfelt Commodification of Consumption." It contains three fake TV commercials for Sheek pantyhose, available in fine lingerie stores everywhere. Scott-Cashman is a blonde wigged spokeswoman wearing nothing but the pantyhose. Scheiner returns as a guy telling the viewer about the pantyhose while two hose-clad feet playfully nuzzle his face. Both ads tell the viewer that women should wear Sheek pantyhose, or nothing at all. The third ad has the man and woman nude in bed together, with the Sheek ad line changed. Why go nude when you can wear Sheek?
It took a couple of viewings of the film for me to appreciate what Connell was doing. The two parts could be interchanged, the first part's female character having seen the Sheek ads, and demanding her body be seen as more than just a product. The second part of the film shows how just a switch of a few words can change the entire meaning of a sentence, and how intelligent the viewing public is- or thinks it is.
The only two actors in the film are fine, I still watch Scheiner today on MRCTV. Often, a short film serves as a long preview for a full-length feature that will get financing someday, but Connell's effort does not feel that way. He says what needs to be said without overstaying his welcome or underwhelming the audience with dumbed down dialogue or obvious "here's what this means" statements. Perry Iannone's musical score irritated the hell out of me at first, but I came to like its build in the first part.
"Stocking Stuffers" is billed as a thinking person's film. What each person gets out of it may vary, but I found that whatever the outcome, it still worked.
She's So Cold (1995)
Angel Connell's short film/long form music video makes the viewer see the Rolling Stones' "She's So Cold" in a whole new light, and his cast seems to have a hoot doing it. This comes off as a fun-to-watch twelve minutes, even with the taboo overtones.
In the not-too-distant future, attractive Martha (Robin Reck) goes to a police station and requests to see the confession from the infamous Zeno case. According to the clerks' gossip, Mr. Zeno (Angel Connell) was found guilty of forcing his fiancee's sister to kill herself with a drug overdose, and Zeno was found later violating her corpse. His video confession is a mystery, and no one has been able to figure it out since Zeno was sent to an asylum for the criminally insane five years earlier. Martha was Zeno's fiancee, and she may hold the clue as to what Zeno's confession means.
Martha goes to a viewing room, solemnly puts the disc into a playback machine, and we are treated to a black and white video of the Rolling Stones' "She's So Cold," perfectly shot and lip-synched, as a goateed Zeno reenacts his necrophiliac crime. What is Martha seeing? Is she imagining what Zeno is describing, or will all futuristic criminal confessions consist of smoke machines and hired actors?
The police station and clerks' gossip is so well done, that when "She's So Cold" is given a literal translation that makes Tom Petty's "Last Chance with Mary Jane" seem mild, then the film had me. Connell's strength is in the editing. While his later two-character short, "Stocking Stuffers," didn't require a lot of editing, this film does, and it is done flawlessly. The song is already great, and Connell does an admirable job with his film. Changing the screen from the color police station scenes to black & white for the song totally works. There is a bit of a twist at the end of the film, leading the viewer to draw their own conclusion, but Connell does not beat anyone over the head with obvious explanations.
Of course, after watching this twice in a row, I cannot get the song out of my head. "She's So Cold" (the film) did see a few festival screenings, and probably should have been seen by more...I'm so hot for her, I'm so hot for...dang it!
In the not-too-distant future, attractive Martha (Robin Reck) goes to a police station and requests to see the confession from the infamous Zeno case. According to the clerks' gossip, Mr. Zeno (Angel Connell) was found guilty of forcing his fiancee's sister to kill herself with a drug overdose, and Zeno was found later violating her corpse. His video confession is a mystery, and no one has been able to figure it out since Zeno was sent to an asylum for the criminally insane five years earlier. Martha was Zeno's fiancee, and she may hold the clue as to what Zeno's confession means.
Martha goes to a viewing room, solemnly puts the disc into a playback machine, and we are treated to a black and white video of the Rolling Stones' "She's So Cold," perfectly shot and lip-synched, as a goateed Zeno reenacts his necrophiliac crime. What is Martha seeing? Is she imagining what Zeno is describing, or will all futuristic criminal confessions consist of smoke machines and hired actors?
The police station and clerks' gossip is so well done, that when "She's So Cold" is given a literal translation that makes Tom Petty's "Last Chance with Mary Jane" seem mild, then the film had me. Connell's strength is in the editing. While his later two-character short, "Stocking Stuffers," didn't require a lot of editing, this film does, and it is done flawlessly. The song is already great, and Connell does an admirable job with his film. Changing the screen from the color police station scenes to black & white for the song totally works. There is a bit of a twist at the end of the film, leading the viewer to draw their own conclusion, but Connell does not beat anyone over the head with obvious explanations.
Of course, after watching this twice in a row, I cannot get the song out of my head. "She's So Cold" (the film) did see a few festival screenings, and probably should have been seen by more...I'm so hot for her, I'm so hot for...dang it!
The Stepford Wives (1975)
This cult classic is based on the underrated author Ira Levin's novel.
Joanna (Katharine Ross), lawyer hubby Walter (Peter Masterson), and their two young daughters move from the hustle and bustle of New York City to the small suburb of Stepford. Walter throws himself into his work, and the local "men only" club. Joanna continues her photography, and meets neighbor Carol (Nanette Newman). Carol seems to have a drinking problem. She will repeat herself, and is obsessed with making her husband happy. Thankfully, Joanna also meets new resident Bobby (Paula Prentiss), who also notices how strangely the Stepford wives act. Bobby and Joanna try to get a women's group started, but the invited wives talk of nothing but household cleaners. Soon, another friend, Charmaine (Tina Louise), changes from an outgoing tennis player to perfect wife. Then Bobby comes back from a weekend with her husband, and she has changed, too. Joanna sees the writing on the crystal clean walls, and tries to escape.
Do not be misled by the credits. The screenwriter, William Goldman, adapted Levin's novel, and Forbes also directed "Seance on a Wet Afternoon," but "The Stepford Wives" is not really horror or science fiction. It is a quiet little suspenser that worked for me. The screenplay certainly takes its time with the story, which is frustrating if you know the basic plot. Some of the scenes drag, and I would have liked to see more satire, especially on our consumer culture. "The Truman Show" covered some of this same ground better. Ross is nicely controlled as Joanna, our heroine. Paula Prentiss is instantly likable as Bobby. You will notice all the husbands in Stepford are a little nerdy, and Peter Masterson is a terrific Walter.
Forbes lets his characters figure out the plot without appearing too stupid. Some of the film is a little choppy- Forbes rewrote some of Goldman's script, and Goldman bad-mouthed the production in typical Hollywood behavior. The supporting cast is also good, from Tina Louise to a funny yet creepy Nanette Newman. An innocent-sounding line like "I'll just die if I don't get this recipe" actually menaces. This has one of the most infamous endings in cinematic history, the final ten minutes or so are brilliant. Many audiences saw this as anti-feminist when it first came out, but in fact it is the opposite.
"The Stepford Wives" is old school 1970's suspense. Ignore the terrible rash of made-for-television sequels, the troubled Nicole Kidman remake, and stick to the original. Your floors will never be shinier.
Joanna (Katharine Ross), lawyer hubby Walter (Peter Masterson), and their two young daughters move from the hustle and bustle of New York City to the small suburb of Stepford. Walter throws himself into his work, and the local "men only" club. Joanna continues her photography, and meets neighbor Carol (Nanette Newman). Carol seems to have a drinking problem. She will repeat herself, and is obsessed with making her husband happy. Thankfully, Joanna also meets new resident Bobby (Paula Prentiss), who also notices how strangely the Stepford wives act. Bobby and Joanna try to get a women's group started, but the invited wives talk of nothing but household cleaners. Soon, another friend, Charmaine (Tina Louise), changes from an outgoing tennis player to perfect wife. Then Bobby comes back from a weekend with her husband, and she has changed, too. Joanna sees the writing on the crystal clean walls, and tries to escape.
Do not be misled by the credits. The screenwriter, William Goldman, adapted Levin's novel, and Forbes also directed "Seance on a Wet Afternoon," but "The Stepford Wives" is not really horror or science fiction. It is a quiet little suspenser that worked for me. The screenplay certainly takes its time with the story, which is frustrating if you know the basic plot. Some of the scenes drag, and I would have liked to see more satire, especially on our consumer culture. "The Truman Show" covered some of this same ground better. Ross is nicely controlled as Joanna, our heroine. Paula Prentiss is instantly likable as Bobby. You will notice all the husbands in Stepford are a little nerdy, and Peter Masterson is a terrific Walter.
Forbes lets his characters figure out the plot without appearing too stupid. Some of the film is a little choppy- Forbes rewrote some of Goldman's script, and Goldman bad-mouthed the production in typical Hollywood behavior. The supporting cast is also good, from Tina Louise to a funny yet creepy Nanette Newman. An innocent-sounding line like "I'll just die if I don't get this recipe" actually menaces. This has one of the most infamous endings in cinematic history, the final ten minutes or so are brilliant. Many audiences saw this as anti-feminist when it first came out, but in fact it is the opposite.
"The Stepford Wives" is old school 1970's suspense. Ignore the terrible rash of made-for-television sequels, the troubled Nicole Kidman remake, and stick to the original. Your floors will never be shinier.
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