The Getaway

Sam Peckinpah
1972

Probably the most straightforward and easily digestible Peckinpah film I've seen to date. The boozy director takes a pretty basic story and spins it into cinematic gold through raw emotion and snarling animalistic perseverance. Bank robber Steve McQueen is released from jail when his main squeeze Ali McGraw sleeps with parole board bigwig Ben Johnson (an act that'll come to bite her in the ass). Johnson hires McQueen to pull a heist that goes sour, leaving Doc and his gal no choice but to stash the loot and evade a posse of gun-toting cronies, as well as a psychotic thug responsible for botching the robbery. This film may as well be an ode to the shotgun - with our hero defending himself and Ms. McGraw from harm by popping-off shell after shell from a 12-gauge pump. Car windshields, headlights, dry wall, and wood burst or splinter in slow-mo to a dizzying tune of destruction. The rocky relationship between Doc and Carol is understandably tense and with every harsh word, slap, and near death experience it's painfully believable that the couple could unravel at any moment. For all the macho male fun there's a real sensitivity to the way Peckinpah treats Doc's first day out of jail, with a joyous dive into a nearby river, and the awkward anxiety of the couple's first night together. There's some comic relief provided by wounded gunman Rudy as he accosts a rural veterinarian and his overripe wife (Sally Struthers!). The hapless husband soon becomes chauffeur and sad witness to his wife's all too willing seduction. It's may not be the most socially acceptable take on women psychology, but it's definitely good for a few yuks.

Phantom

F.W. Murnau
1922

This silent rarity from the famed director of "Nosferatu" (1922), F.W. Murnau, is of little interest, being mostly a cut -and-dried morality tale. City clerk Lorenz begins to spend above his means and covet fancy dames when a local bookstore owner claims his poems are genius and that his writing will surely bring him celebrity. The old man's judgement is flawed however as the poems are of little interest to the publisher, and thus Lorenz's debts escalate into a financial quagmire. With the help of his fallen sister and her petty-crook husband, Lorenz first borrows and then attempts to steal money from a beloved and wealthy aunt. Inevitably, things come to a predictably dreary conclusion that gives way to the naive hero's eventual redemption. The film's title refers to the fantastic vision Lorenz sees of a beautiful women driving a coach lead by snow-white horses. It's a metaphor for desire which is both fascinating and evocative, but is unfortunately buried in the morally black-and-white melodrama of long-suffering mothers on deathbeds, disgraced children, slippery hucksters, and busybody widows. For my money, "Sunrise" (1927) is a far more complex, satisfying, and enjoyable picture.

Ariel

Aki Kaurismaki
1988

"Ariel," the second installment in Kaurismaki's proletarian trilogy, continues in the same quirky stylistic vein as the previous "Shadows in Paradise," but also stretches the thematic content a bit by being something of a caper film as well. The local mine's just closed forcing Nordic bumpkin Taisto to empty his bank account and head to Helsinki in a permanently borrowed Cadaillac land-barge. He's divested of his money through naivety, and winds up living in a flophouse doing shitty jobs when work is available. An unfortunate revenge assault lands Taisto in prison, where he plots escape from the clink and Finland altogether with his newfound widow love interest. Matti Pellonpaa returns to the trilogy as Taisto's awkward and thuggish cellmate who's nearly catatonic exterior belies a psychotic rage beneath. The humor is as tight as ever, though the romantic angle comes off forced. The switch from down-and-out loser slice o' life to comedy crime film is a completely unexpected treat that manages to remain firmly affixed to Kaurismaki's trademark tone. Like "Shadows in Paradise" this one ends with an escape as well, albeit more desperate, and one is left to wonder if Finland can possibly be as soul-crushingly banal and depressing as the director's take on it.

The Wild Bunch

Sam Peckinpah
1969
Second Viewing

It may not be apparent on the surface, but I see Sam Peckinpah as the natural heir to John Ford in terms of Westerns. Each exemplified their respective cinematic zeitgeist - Ford, a holdover from the silent era with his static frames, macho humor, and earnest morality couldn't have been anymore "classic Hollywood." Meanwhile, Peckinpah with his gonzo violence, maniac anti-heroes, and roving-camera extremes would make a fine bratty poster child for the so called New Hollywood of the late 60's and 70's. "The Wild Bunch" put Peckinpah back on the map after a blackball period when he was shut out of films due to the debacle surrounding "Major Dundee" (1965), and from having been kicked off another picture. This neo Western is all blunt-force trauma with it's brick subtle metaphors and appalling humanity. The famous opening shot, children feeding giant scorpions to a swarm of fire-ants (and then setting the whole thing on fire) pretty much sums it up as the eponymous gang of crooks decide on a whim to turn a Mexican general's camp into a bloodbath of epic proportions. No matter how ghastly their sins, a charming, surprisingly vulnerable performance by William Holden, and a charismatic turn by Ernest Borgnine make these bloodthirsty rogues undeniably appealing. Forget the romantic notion of a quickly disappearing "old West," with it's freedom and lawlessness now anachronism - it's the cult of personality, the hero worship and star appeal that becomes most satisfyingly disturbing.

Beneath the Planet of the Apes

Ted Post
1970

It's sad to see how far production values dropped in the first sequel to this legendary franchise. The ape makeups come off even more rubbery, with awkward mouth movements and a plastic hardness less apparent in the original. Chuck Heston appears briefly in the beginning (as this one starts exactly where the last left off), and hands the reigns over to shameless Heston lookalike James Franciscus, who's crashed on the planet in nearly identical circumstances to Taylor. The satire of conflict between religion, politics, and militarism in ape society is painfully trite, but things get cooking once Brent stumbles onto a cave-dwelling race of bomb-mutated humans worshiping a golden doomsday nuke. In contrast to the lousy monkey masks the mutant makeups come off excellently, strongly suggestive of man-sized talking penises. Besides the makeup effects there are some baffling inconsistencies in the rest of the visual effects. Most strikingly is the quality difference between a shot in which a rift tears through the ground (a gorgeous matte and miniature shot), vs. one in which ridiculously animated lightning crackles over the barren landscape. While this sequel is definitely less monumental than it's forebear it does offer some solid sci-fi scripting and an adequate execution

House

Nobuhiko Obayashi
1977

Quite possibly the single weirdest picture I've seen to date. Ostensibly a play on the horror film, Nobuhiko Obayashi seems far more interested in creating a lysergic phantasmagoria of kitschy sets and liberally employing goofy pre-MTV music video effects. A gang of schoolgirls named for their singular personality traits (Melody plays instruments, Kung Fu knows Kung Fu), escape Tokyo for the countryside to an Aunt's mansion. Unfortunately for the gals, the Auntie is a sort of cosmic vampire/witch with her pulsating green-eyed fluffy white cat acting as hatchet man. The girls are picked off one by one in some of the strangest kill scenes imaginable: one girl is literally mauled to death by attacking mattresses, another is eaten alive by a hungry piano, and another is electrocuted by a rampaging light fixture. There's a little early Sam Raimi sensibility going on ("Evil Dead 2" (1987) in particular), but it's pushed way beyond the limits of reason and coherence. I can't even begin to imagine what it would be like to watch this movie high. Definitely worth a viewing if you ever get the opportunity.

Demons

Lamberto Bava
1985

For all intents and purposes Lamberto Bava's 80's fright flick is your standard (above average) zombie film. Most of the regular rules apply: bitten or scratched and you become one, they're only killed through serious physical trauma, and due to the last two reasons they proliferate like rats. A solid fun-times gore-fest, Bava's picture doesn't bother with needless and extraneous plotting or labored characterizations, but instead gets to the good stuff quick when a sneak-preview audience is forced to fight for their lives when folks start growing fangs, talons, and exploding face pustules. Lamberto is of course the son of Italian horror great Mario Bava, and this particular film boasts a "presented by Dario Argento" credit, but while some of the stylistic choices of these heavyweights are present in "Demons" none of the pretensions are (for better or for worse). Highlights include a hilariously stereotypical black brother, his two ladies, a katana-swinging motorcycle massacre, and a hapless gang of punk rock cokeheads. The shocks and kill scenes are fun and plentiful, and while the green slime spewing from the demons' mouths is a touch over the top, the practical makeup effects are a treat. Due to the film's slow start I was going to make some quip about how the slasher movie-within-the-movie would have been better viewing, but now I've got to eat those words.

Shadows in Paradise

Aki Kaurismaki
1986

Kaurismaki kicks off the first part of his proletarian trilogy with a socialist-grey Finland made of expansive landfills, alienating supermarkets, and existential confinement. It's also a romantic comedy. Laconic garbageman Nikander realizes he's no spring chicken when his longtime partner croaks in front of him on their trash route. In loneliness he reaches out to grocery-store cashier Ilona, who proves to be something of an expert at playing "hard to get." Theirs is a rocky romance beset by false starts and complicated by their respectively fierce individualism. It's no surprise that contemporary director Jim Jarmusch and Kaurismaki are buds as their stylistic sensibilities are nearly identical. Nikander's slicked-back chain-smoking cool and violent machismo are saved from cliche and made endearing by his diminutive size and pathetic situation. Ilona's about as warm as a glacier and friendly as a hornet's nest, but her unique looks (think heroin-chic with a boatload of freckles), difficult personality, and perennial hard luck make her an alluring male fantasy. The couple makes their grand getaway on a Soviet cruise-liner(?), but garbage water still smells once it's dried and rent is always due on the first. This is an ephemeral escape that raises more doubts and uncertainties than happily-ever-afters.

Dr. Akagi

Shohei Imamura
1998
Multiple Viewings

One of my favorite Japanese films by one of my favorite Japanese directors. Shohei Imamura's "Dr. Akagi" has it's titular crazy-legged physician running all over a rural war-weary Japan. In doc's neck of the woods every diagnosis is hepatitis, and this nasty ailment doesn't limit itself to the liver but is instead a monstrous metaphor for a society wracked by it's terminally ill military campaign. Akagi's surgeon pal has hepatitis in the form of morphine addiction, the military police have hepatitis in their bullying and abuse of prisoners, and even Akagi himself comes down with a slight case when his obsession to eradicate the root of the disease causes him to neglect his patients. This picture has one of the better jazz scores I've heard with an unforgettably wobbly theme that kicks in every time the good doctor scrambles from one house call to the next. Imamura sneaks in his recurring preoccupation with sex in the form of semi-reformed prostitute. Sonoko, who begins working as the doc's assistant, puts a human face on the film - outspoken in love and free in expressing emotion, she lights a small fire under Akagi's clinical humanism.

Showgirls

Paul Verhoeven
1995

My camp/kitsch obsessed sister made the whole family sit down and watch this notorious albatross together over the Thanksgiving holiday, and after viewing I can definitely say that it stands up to it's reputation as one of the worst movies ever made (in the best way possible). Respectable actors (mainly Gina Gershon and Kyle MacLachlan) come off as "in on the joke" hamming it up and reveling in all the sleaze, but the rest of the cast, Elizabeth Berkley included, play it painfully serious, providing some unintended(?) schadenfreude-tinged laughs. Say what you want about the cheese factor, but Verhoeven doesn't skimp on the flesh and shamelessness. Berkley's sex scenes and dances invariably involve a high and somewhat disturbing degree of thrashing, and when she's actually wearing clothes the wardrobe is jaw-droppingly tacky. Verhoeven's European status makes this gaudy take on the "American Dream" all the more rewarding. I couldn't see a U.S. director tackling the heights of bad taste with such a quixotic earnestness. In an age where Ashley Dupre, the hooker NY gov Spitzer was caught diddling, is now achieving minor celebrity, I find Berkley's steadfast determination to "keep her soul" by avoiding prostitution plain preposterous. The film makes the boundaries so hazy, and the lines so shaky, as to make any sort of moral question a flat tire.

Torn Curtain

Alfred Hitchcock
1966

This late Hitchcock picture dealing with Cold War espionage is practically handed it's element of suspense as Julie Andrews and Paul Newman are outed as spies in totalitarian East Germany. Despite the difference in time, no other Hitch film comes to mind that so starkly references the paranoia and persecution of Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union under Stalin. Paul Newman proves a decent hero, but Julie Andrews comes up short as the ideal Hitchcock heroine - too plain-Jane in an underwritten role suited for a shallow blonde beauty. The singular highlight is the drawn-out murder of motorcycle thug Gromek who has the misfortune of meddling too closely in the couple's affairs. With the help of a stern underground house-frau the blue-eyed King of salad-dressing bludgeons, stabs, and eventually smothers this villain in a delightfully macabre and hackle-rasing battle of wills. After that, escape becomes the name of the game as the body is found and the dragnet tightens. "Torn Curtain" proves more spiritually and politically uplifting than most of Hitchcock's somewhat misanthropic ouvre as the resistance network of spies/citizens has the noble and hell-bent streak of undermining the government's iron fist at any cost.

Three Times

Hou Hsiao-Hsien
2005

A couple years ago I saw a rental copy of this film sitting ontop of my Grandpa's television. I had read about it and asked him what he thought. He furrowed his brow and like a good sport hesitantly told me that it was "interesting." The only Hou picture I've seen prior to this is "Millenium Mambo" (2001), a solid if slightly dull foray into disaffectedly "cool" Taiwanese 20-somethings solipsistically navigating newfound adulthood. This time around Hou takes on three different relationships in three different eras (hence the title). The first, a tale of longing set in the 60's, comes off as wannabe Wong Kar-Wai with long slow takes and fetishistic languor. The second segment, set in a turn of the century brothel, suffers grossly from the unnecessary pretension of replacing all dialogue with title cards a la silent cinema. The final section takes place in the present, and is similar in tone and content to "Millenium Mambo." A young photographer vacillates between two women, one of which is a seductive rock singer. This last portion is a little cringe-inducing with Hou's painfully tacky ideas of what's hip with the kids. There's a solid stylistic thread unifying the three parts but the film comes off as leaden and overwrought, neither beautiful, poignant, or poetic despite it's best efforts. A clunker indeed.

The Tomb of Ligeia

Roger Corman
1964

This is the second of Roger Corman's Poe films I've gotten the chance to see, and it holds up much better than "The House of Usher" (1960). Vincent Price reappears in the leading role, this time sensitive only to light as opposed to all stimuli, but also hopelessly enslaved to the memory of his deceased wive. A fateful encounter leads to a romance with wifey number 2, the Lady Rowina being eerily similar to dead Ligeia since both women are played by Elizabeth Shepherd. Despite his penny-pinching tendencies Corman manages to achieve a deliriously romantic sense of creepiness through atmosphere rather than flashy effects or snappy setpieces. Ligeia's blasphemous will to live is nicely complemented by references to Egyptian art - bringing some welcome notions of pagan immortality to the table. Hypnotism, slashed wrists, and a secret chamber (complete with sacrificial pyre!) spice up a pretty satisfying outing. It's worth noting that while Corman's "House of Usher" feels like little more than an exploitation quickie, this one feels genuinely closer to the tone of Poe's work.

Black Moon

Louis Malle
1975

Up until now every Louis Malle picture I've seen has been gangbusters, but this ludicrously indulgent Alice In Wonderland rehash is mostly tedious and uninteresting. The majority of the action revolves around a prim golden-haired lass navigating the absurd and surrealist mysteries of a provincial mansion with the encroaching specter of large-scale armed conflict uncomfortably seething in the background. An overweight and inelegant Unicorn, gangs of naked children tending hogs, and breast-fed old women are thrown in for color, but it all sounds better in print than in it's onscreen execution. Warhol film vet Joe Dallesandro is underused and leaves the screen with a whimper instead of the bang he deserves. Cathryn Harrison does her best as the Alice stand-in, with a mutable temperament, switching from innocent victim, to indignant snob, to motherly provider on a per-scene basis, yet no amount of lead actress bravado could get this lame duck off the ground. Based on all the great Malle films I've seen prior to this stinker I'm willing to give him a "get-out-of-jail free card" just this once.