King of Kings: Nicholas Ray

Second only to Pier Paolo Pasolini's The Gospel According to St. Matthew (1964), Nicholas Ray's King of Kings is my all-time favorite cinematic adaption of the life of Jesus Christ. Combining his meticulous eye for cinematic composition and his propensity for societal outsiders, Ray's take on Jesus' life never loses sight of the compassion, courage, and humanity that fueled one of mankind's greatest philosophers. Many adaptions of Jesus' life tend to portray him as aloof or detached from society. But Ray goes to pains to depict Jesus as a man who was both a product of his time and an outsider from it. His version of the Sermon on the Mount is particularly moving and emotional: Jesus moves amongst the peoples while preaching instead of merely standing at the mountain-top talking down to everyone else. Ray understood that Jesus was born into a chaotic, violent, and bloody time and that much of his appeal came from his ability to appeal for peace, love, and tolerance despite this. King of Kings is one of the best works from Ray's later career. While many films tried to give Jesus a timeless quality, Ray knew that, again, he was first and foremost a product of his time and it was therein that his brilliance and greatness truly lay.

9/10

12 Monkeys: Terry Gilliam

12 Monkeys has quite the cinematic pedigree: it stars Bruce Willis and Brad Pitt, is directed by Terry Gilliam, and is based on Chris Marker's La jetée (1962), a film on the short-list for the greatest short film of all time. Is it any wonder considering its well of talent that 12 Monkeys is an intelligent, expertly crafted sci-fi film? In a future where mankind has been forced underground by a horrific virus, James Cole (Willis) is a convicted criminal subjected to scientific tests with the intent of sending him back in time in order to stop the apocalypse. Upon arrival in the past, Cole must unravel the secret of the Army of the Twelve Monkeys, the terrorist group suspected of being behind the virus. This being a) a time travel film and b) a Terry Gilliam picture, 12 Monkeys is a wash of impossible visuals, fantastic performances, and revolutionary ideas. Willis' performance as Cole, particularly in scenes in the "past" where he is captured, committed to a mental institution, and pumped full of drugs, ranks among the very best of his career. This is a film that rewards multiple, meticulous viewings. Thankfully, the film is so well made that the audience will want to re-watch it as soon as possible anyway.

8/10

Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure: Stephen Herek

Stephen Herek's Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure was always one of those films that I kicked myself for never having watched. Not only was it a personal favorite of many of my friends, it was one of the most frequently quoted and incessantly referenced films of the 1980s. That's quite an impressive feat for a decade that also gave us Back to the Future (1985) and Indiana Jones. After finally kicking myself enough times, I gave the film a watch. And now, I can finally understand why it was so popular. This film about two high school slackers who come into possession of a time machine is no work of high art in the vein of Kubrick or Bresson. But it still remains an incredibly entertaining, thoroughly enjoyable piece of cinema. It may be as formulaic as Hollywood films come in terms of story structure (I could hear the individual parts of the three-act story structure fall into place with deafening 'thuds'), but that does little to diminish the pleasure that this film delivers. Its sense of irreverence, indefatigable joy, and enthusiasm elevate this simple film into cinematic Valhalla.

7/10

Party Girl: Nicholas Ray

After the disastrous production of Wind Across the Everglades (1958) which saw him being fired by the studio before the film's completion, Nicholas Ray rebounded with Party Girl, a film about a mob lawyer who falls in love with a showgirl. The lawyer, Thomas Farrell, has spent his life keeping the worst mobsters in America out of jail. However, his life is hollow and empty. But when he meets a showgirl named Vicki (played by the stunning Cyd Charisse) he decides that he wants to leave the mob and start a new life with her. But, of course, nobody just leaves the mob. Mob boss Rico Angelo (loosely based on gangsters like Al Capone and Lucky Luciano) threatens to hurt Vicki if Farrell abandons him. But I'm just recounting the plot. The real meat of the film is found in Ray's direction, Robert J. Bronner's gob-smacking color CinemaScope cinematography, and two musical dance numbers with Charisse. What it lacks in plot it more than makes up for in visual flare. Party Girl easily ranks with In a Lonely Place (1950) and Johnny Guitar (1954) as Ray's most beautiful films.

7/10

Sundown: The Vampire in Retreat: Anthony Hickox

Anthony Hickox's Sundown: The Vampire in Retreat (1989) isn't just a good movie; it is also a smart one. The idea of vampires who want to re-integrate with the rest of humanity isn't necessarily a new idea, particularly in this day and age when vampires seem to permeate all over the popular media. So instead, Hickox turns his camera on the minutiae of vampires trying to live during the daytime. Sentry vampires in sombreros work at gas stations to monitor anyone who might come too close to their community. A crowd of vampires pantomime eating at a diner when human guests show up. Vats of heavy-duty sunblock are scattered everywhere, just in case. These are the details that make the film work. But what about the plot? Well, it's not too shabby, either. In the quiet desert town of Purgatory, a colony of vampires try to build an artificial-bloodmaking machine that will allow them to re-enter the world of humans. However, when their attempts fail, they call in the plant's designer, a regular human, and his family to Purgatory. It's too bad that they decided to call them just as an evil vampire elder starts a literal revolution. The appearance of one of Van Helsing's descendants doesn't help things, either. It would have been so easy for Hickox to make Sundown: The Vampire in Retreat a cliched vampire film. Thank heavens that he didn't. This is a film that deserves more than a purgatory of its own in old video rental stores.

7/10

Born to Be Bad: Nicholas Ray

What a disappointing follow-up to In a Lonely Place (1950). After directing one of the single greatest film noir in history, director Nicholas Ray released Born to Be Bad, a dull, mediocre picture about an opportunistic woman who back-stabs and betrays her way to high society. Joan Fontaine plays Christabel, a young gold-digger who breaks up a marriage so she can marry the husband and get his money. Along the way she also strings along an aspiring author that she secretly desires. She doesn't pursue him, of course, because he's not the one with any money. This all leads to a decent confrontation moment when everyone gangs up on her and reveals that they discovered the truth behind her sickening actions. But the film is simply tedious and tiring. Maybe another director could have salvaged this film. But regardless, Nicholas Ray was the wrong director for this film and it shows.

5/10

Coffin Joe 2: This Night I'll Possess Your Corpse: José Mojica Marins

Immediately after the events of At Midnight I'll Take Your Soul (1963), the film's eponymous character is rushed to the emergency room where his life is miraculously saved. Just, don't tell Coffin Joe that because he'll probably kill you for suggesting that God had an influence in his life. Yes, director José Mojica Marins' greatest creation is back for more blood, torture, and blasphemy in his search for the perfect woman to give birth to his "perfect" son. This time, there are more victims, more diabolical murders, and even a nightmare sequence in Hell done in color to provoke and terrify the audience. After kidnapping six young women, Coffin Joe submits them to a horrific test to see if they are free from fear. This test involves covering them with dozens upon dozens of (real) giant spiders to see which ones scream. After finding his "superior" woman, he viciously murders the other five by throwing them into a pit filled with (once again, real) poisonous snakes. He soon gets the "winner" pregnant. However, Coffin Joe is devastated to learn that one of the five women was also with child. Lacking any kind of morals except an extreme protectiveness of children, the news sends Coffin Joe into a dangerous, and potentially fatal, down-ward spiral. Coffin Joe isn't helped by the fact that the local villagers have finally worked up the courage to rebel against him, sending several hired killers to dispatch him. But Coffin Joe refuses to go down without a fight. He is, after all, superior to all of them. This Night I'll Possess Your Corpse is a visceral, terrifying delight. Anyone who loves horror needs to see this film.

9/10

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey: Peter Jackson

After long last, it is finally here! I have waited with excitement for Peter Jackson's cinematic adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit. After all, I still believe that his Lord of the Rings trilogy was one of the most important moments in the cinema of the last decade. So does the first film in this new trilogy, An Unexpected Journey, live up to its expectations? Yes...but not as much as it could have. Without going into the matter of Jackson's decision to split the book into three movies, I don't think that there is enough plot to keep this film held together. There are too many plot diversions (did we really need the Morgul-blade scene?) and moments when it felt like Jackson was deliberately stretching things. One of the best observations that I have heard about this film was that it felt like an extended edition with deleted scenes. But still, the film has a lot of the heart that was the lifeblood of Tolkien's work. The opening scene with the Dwarves at Bag End is one of the most virtuosic moments of Jackson's career, speaking both to his talents as a filmmaker and as an interpreter of the novel's more upbeat, comical tone. Even for Jackson, the film seems over-burdened with CGI special effects. The Goblin-Town scenes, in particular, could have really benefited from more practical effects like trick shots and puppetry. I can only hope that Jackson can reel in the computer effects by the time we get around to Smaug and the Battle of Five Armies.

6/10

Mogambo: John Ford

Still reeling from the failure of The Sun Shines Bright (1953), director John Ford was in desperate need of a profitable hit film. Despite his health problems, Ford packed up and traveled to Africa in order to film MGM’s remake of its own 1932 romantic melodrama Red Dust. The film followed the romantic triangle between big game hunter Victor Marswell (Clark Gable), misplaced playgirl Eloise “Honey Bear” Kelly (Ava Gardner), and the naive wife of a milquetoast scientist named Linda Nordley (Grace Kelly) against the exotic back-drop of the African wilderness. After a physically grueling shoot that saw him endure amoebic dysentery, the film, titled Mogambo (1953) was released to incredible success. In addition to grossing $5.2 million and garnering Oscar nominations for both Gardner and Kelly, the film revitalized Gable’s career and, to another extent, Ford’s. But despite the film being one of Ford’s biggest hits, it seems almost mechanical in its twists and turns. After Ford’s self-described favorite and most personal film, Mogambo seems like a movie straight from a cookie cutter. As such, the film fits snugly into the thematic and social patterns that have since been identified as typical of Fifties Hollywood cinema.

6/10

Coffin Joe: At Midnight I'll Take Your Soul: José Mojica Marins

Based on a “faceless figure dressed in black” from one of director José Mojica Marins' nightmares, Zé do Caixão, or 'Coffin Joe' in English, is a vicious undertaker in a tiny, superstitious Brazilian town. Harboring a malicious hatred for religion, a sociopathic disdain for its followers, and a deep-seated belief in his own superiority, he holds the townspeople in a constant state of terror, periodically intimidating and assaulting those who step out of line. Obsessed with continuing his bloodline, the only thing in life to which he assigns any meaning, Coffin Joe embarks on a reign of rape and murder as he seeks out the ‘perfect’ woman to give birth to his ‘perfect’ son. At Midnight I'll Take Your Soul, this first film with the character of Coffin Joe, was part of a much bigger avant-garde movement raging in the movie theaters and film circles of Brazil during the 1960s: Udigrudi cinema. The Brazilian pronunciation of ‘Underground,’ Udigrudi was the term given to the work of a group of filmmakers who rejected cinematic norms in favor of a “dirty screen” and a “garbage” esthetic. But in addition to its place in the development of Brazilian cinema, At Midnight I'll Take Your Soul's greatest impact was found in the character of Coffin Joe himself. Screenwriter Rubens F. Lucchetti explained the true significance of the character of Coffin Joe, saying, “I didn’t think it was possible to create a Brazilian character like Frankenstein or Dracula. I thought there was no equivalent. But Mojica created one. He copied nothing from anyone, the character is pure Brazilian.” Indeed, Coffin Joe’s appeal to the Brazilian public came from his rebellion against the country’s societal norms. For much of the population that suffered under military rule from 1964 to 1985, the Coffin Joe films served as a vicarious release for their feelings of unrest. One of the most powerful examples of how Coffin Joe would have registered among Brazilian sensibilities of the day but not necessarily to those of foreigners involves an early scene that shows Coffin Joe feasting on a leg of lamb while perched above an Easter procession near his house on Good Friday. For Brazilians, who were forbidden by the Catholic Church from consuming meat on Holy Days, this simple act was seen as extreme blasphemy. Outsiders without a deep understanding of Brazilian culture would have more than likely failed to grasp the symbolic nature and import of Coffin Joe’s feast. Such was Marins' skill as a director that At Midnight I'll Take Your Soul remains to this day as a film of undeniable power and horror.

8/10

Meteorango Kid: Galactic Hero: André Luiz Oliveira

André Luiz Oliveira’s Meteorango Kid: Intergalactic Hero follows a disenchanted teenager from the northeastern Brazilian state of Bahia named Lula amidst the political turmoil of the late 1960s. As Lula wanders from one location to another, he frequently slips into vibrant fantasies where he envisions himself as famous characters like Tarzan and Batman. Scenes that would normally carry considerable weight as moments of narrative progression or character development, such as a meeting with a film producer and his birthday party, are swiftly lost in a wash of cacophonous pop music, bizarre images (the first shot of the film consists of reversed footage of Lula being crucified on a palm tree), and other forms of mass media detritus. If other films from the Brazilian Udigrudi movement like Rogério Sganzerla's The Red Light Bandit (1968) used the pretense of a cinematic narrative to make a statement on the cinema, then Meteorango Kid: Intergalactic Hero used a similar strategy to examine Brazilian society, or at the very least, a small portion of it.

7/10

Bang Bang: Andrea Tonacci

Andrea Tonacci’s Bang Bang represents one of the Brazilian Udigrudi, or 'Underground', movement’s most radical departures from conventional narratives. Defined by Tonacci as a “Maoist detective comedy,” the film is about a story that, for one reason or another, never quite begins. The film features an unnamed protagonist on the run from three gangsters and a magician. Who is this man? Why are the gangsters chasing him? Why does the magician keep interfering? These questions are never answered or even momentarily considered. Near the end, one of the gangsters, a beefy transvestite with a bottomless appetite, attempts to summarize the “plot” for the audience. The gangster can barely get out more than a couple sentences before she is silenced by a cream pie (originating off-camera) that flies into her face. The protagonist spends most of his time in the film getting into fights with taxi drivers over directions (a scene that is mercilessly repeated twice) and lounging around in his bathroom wearing a monkey mask. There are chase scenes bereft of impetus, explanation, and resolution. A conversation between a man and a woman is repeated successively five times in a row. And, perhaps most memorably, there is a musical number performed by the monkey-masked protagonist. With Bang Bang, Tonacci stripped the diegetic world of cinema of context, interpretation, and relevancy. With a mere 85 minutes’ worth of celluloid, he forced narrative cinema into obsolescence. But despite this, even with the proper cultural and historical context, Bang Bang is a blistering challenge to watch. It was never intended as an easy film for its audience, of course. But that doesn't work as an excuse for the casual, non-academic viewer.

5/10

12 to the Moon: David Bradley

I'll give David Bradley and his film 12 to the Moon credit where credit is due: in the same year that African-Americans were organizing sit-ins as part of the Civil Rights Movement, here is a film with a multicultural cast (including black and Asian crew-members) that implies that mankind can only truly advance as a species once we set aside our differences and work together. Of course, most of the crew-members die, the "ethnic" characters are almost always stereotypes, and the film's approach to science would make a Young Earth Creationist blush. Upon landing on the Moon during an international space expedition, they find a partially breathable atmosphere, a massive deposit of gold, and signs of an advanced civilization living beneath the Moon's surface. These denizens of the Moon decide that humanity is a threat, so they flash-freeze all of North America. So the survivors of the space-flight, which at this point are surprisingly sparse, must somehow unfreeze the continent while proving their worth as a species to the inhabitants of the Moon. 12 to the Moon is a bizarre sci-fi film, even for its era. But, hey, it gets points for good intentions. I think...

5/10

Jesse James at Bay: Joseph Kane

This is the second Roy Rogers film that I have seen that has involved Jesse James. The first, Days of Jesse James (1939), was a bizarre little movie where Rogers, playing himself, teams up with the legendary outlaw to foil the evil schemes of a group of bankers. Jesse James at Bay actually sees Rogers take up the mantle of James. This film is a supposed reconstruction of a folk tale where Jesse James survived being shot by Robert Ford, went into seclusion, and started a new life. But he is called out from "retirement" when a group of railroad businessmen swindle a group of settlers of their land and demand an outrageous amount of money under penalty of foreclosure from their homes. To keep a long story short, James arrives in town at the same time as a look-alike gambler (also played by Rogers) who is hired by the businessmen to stir up trouble. This film continues the myth of Jesse James as an American Robin Hood who materializes out of the desert (Sherwood Forest) to protect the settlers from the evil authorities (Prince John) only to disappear once his work is done. It's ridiculous, but Rogers puts in a surprisingly good dual-performance as both hero and villain. The film is worth checking out.

5/10

Dracula’s Widow: Christopher Coppola

Wait, how many Coppola's involved with film-making are there in the world? It seems like you can't go more than ten feet in a video store (remember those?) without tripping over one of their films. This time around, the Coppola in the director's seat is Christopher Coppola. The film? Dracula's Widow. This film is a dime-a-dozen adaptation of the old story of a vampire rising from the dead in the modern world only to go on a killing spree while seeking out their long-lost mate. This time around it's Dracula's widow, Vanessa, who awakens in 1980s-era Hollywood. I must say that it's not a good sign when I have a hard time telling a film's plot apart from William Crain's Blacula (1972). But thankfully, Christopher Coppola demonstrates his cinematic acumen by injecting the film with fantastic, colorful visuals. In a strange sense, the film's visual style seems like a watered down version of his uncle's vastly superior vampire film Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992). The film abounds with practical effects, fluorescent-colored sets, and admirable gore set-pieces. It may be completely predictable, but it's enjoyable in its own right.

6/10

Hondo: John Farrow

John Farrow's Hondo is one of the purest distillations of the John Wayne persona that I have ever encountered. From the first scene where a dusty, trail-weary Wayne stumbles out of the desert to the film's final cavalry battle, he is perfectly portrayed as a larger-than-life icon. It follows Wayne as Hondo Lane, a gunfighter-turned-US Army Cavalry dispatch rider, as he stumbles into the lives of Mrs. Angie Lowe and her young son Johnny. They live in a ranch in the middle of Apache territory. For the longest time they lived in peace with the Apache. But after being betrayed by the Army, the Apache are on the war-path. Soon Hondo finds himself trapped between loyalty to the Army, loyalty to Lowe and her son, loyalty to the Apache way of life (they raised him as a child), and loyalty to his own moral code. But the heart of the film is Wayne's relationship with Lowe and her son. Wayne quickly becomes a surrogate father figure to Johnny, teaching him how to fish, swim, and even be a man. He falls in love with Angie, but their love is challenged when Hondo unknowingly kills her husband. The film also demonstrates a keen awareness of the plight of Native Americans against the forces of White Civilization. The Apache are certainly depicted as "noble savages" that must be overcome in order for America to expand. But the film takes pains to point out that the Apache are the true victims. Hondo is a film that manages to combine high adventure with emotional subtleties the likes of which are rarely seen outside of John Ford Westerns. (Side note: That last sentence seems apropos considering that Ford actually directed the film's final shoot-out.)

9/10

Days of Jesse James: Joseph Kane

Now here's an interesting take on the Jesse James mythos: a group of dishonest bankers impersonate James and his gang during a train robbery. As the law goes after the falsely accused James gang, peace officer Roy Rogers (played by...Roy Rogers) begins to believe that the whole situation might be a frame-up. So he goes on a personal crusade to clear the name of the notorious outlaw. First off, I had no idea that you could play yourself in a Western. I don't think John Wayne ever appeared in a movie as John Wayne. Second, the whole idea of Jesse James being framed seems like a desperate attempt on the part of the filmmakers to have their cake and eat it, too. At this point in American history, Jesse James was already a mythologized figure in American history. But he was still a criminal. So how could he star in a film with the clean-cut Roy Rogers? Simple: have him be framed. It's such a mind-boggling concept. My favorite scene was when Roy Rogers says something along the lines of, "I knew that Jesse James was too noble to do that." Don't get me wrong, Days of Jesse James isn't very good (although I did legitimately enjoy a running gag where a newspaper salesman on a train lies about Jesse James being in the headlines to sell papers). But as an anthropological specimen of the evolution of Western archetypes, it is strangely compelling.

5/10

I Shot Jesse James: Samuel Fuller

Mr. Robert Ford was one of the most fascinating and hated men of the American Old West for his vicious murder of his friend Jesse James when his back was turned. Historians and writers have tried for decades to decode Ford's true motivation for his infamous act of betrayal. In Samuel Fuller's first directorial effort, I Shot Jesse James, he realizes that it is impossible for us to know what actually went through Ford's mind on that fateful day. Instead, Fuller is interested in how Ford rationalized his treachery to himself after the fact. Ford seems to convince himself that with the reward for killing James he can finally start a new life with his childhood sweetheart, Cynthy Waters. But there is obviously more going on in Ford's head than he lets on. I Shot Jesse James demonstrates Fuller's knack for the psychological pathos that would come to dominate his characters in the rest of his career. Perhaps my favorite scene in the film is when Ford is drinking at a bar and a wandering musicians walks in and begins to sing the legendary Ballad of Jesse James. Ford stands up, introduces himself, and forces the horrified musician to finish the song. It is a scene of such perfectly balanced emotional intensity that it is nearly inconceivable to believe that it was shot by a first-time director. I Shot Jesse James is a grimy gem of a film that announces the arrival of one of America's greatest filmmakers.

7/10

Gamera II: Gamera vs. Barugon: Shigeo Tanaka

I've always enjoyed kaiju films where the eponymous giant monsters are portrayed more like uncontrollable, amoral forces of nature than cheerful allies of humanity. It may just be me, but the allure of a fire-breathing lizard the size of a skyscraper is largely diminished when it jumps up and down in celebration when it finally defeats another giant monster with the aid of a scrappy group of scientists and, inevitably, children. Thankfully, the second film to feature Daiei's premiere giant monster Gamera, Gamera vs. Barugon, makes no pretense to continue the idea that Gamera is the "friend of all children." After a group of criminals accidentally hatch a giant lizard-creature named Barugon from an egg that they believed was a valuable opal, Gamera arrives to fight it. Why does Gamera attack it? Is it because it is destroying the world and killing people? Nope. You honestly get the feeling that Gamera attacks Barugon because he considers the earth to be his territory. Surprisingly, Barugon quickly defeats Gamera with his freeze-breath. Most of the film after this follows humanity as they try to defeat Barugon themselves! Gamera only shows up again at the very end to deliver the coup de grace! This was a Gamera movie where Gamera was a supporting character! But despite this, Gamera vs. Barugon is a relatively entertaining film about men in rubber suits pummeling each other into oblivion.

6/10

Wind Across the Everglades: Nicholas Ray

The following is a re-print of a mini essay I wrote for one of my graduate classes about Nicholas Ray's use of mise-en-scène in this film.

Is it possible to examine Wind Across the Everglades within the context of Nicholas Ray’s career? Is it even fair? After all, Ray was fired before the film’s completion. Somebody else had to finish and edit the film. Despite this, I would argue that the film fits alongside of Ray’s other works. The reasons why can best be illustrated by Ray’s use of blocking and shot composition. For most of the film, we witness Walt Murdock’s fight against Cottonmouth from his point of view. When he first meets Cottonmouth, it is in an upside-down shot from the inside of Murdock’s camera. After talking for a bit, Cottonmouth mysteriously disappears. In this shot, the frame mimics Murdock’s inability to follow him in the swamp. Compare this to scenes in Cottonmouth’s camp where the camera becomes more omnipotent, free from the visual inhibitions of a single character. During the last few scenes, the shots literally become distorted and blurry, thereby representing Murdock’s incredible fatigue. But the camera foregoes Murdock’s perspective during the scene where he confronts Cottonmouth at his camp during the storm. The shots should have become more and more blurry as Murdock became more and more inebriated. But the camera-work is steady and deliberate during these scenes where Murdock seems to bond with the outlaw and his men. Ray always identified with outsiders and renegades in his work. The fact that the camera becomes passive when Murdock is one with the outlaws enforces this. When he is with them, the world is in focus. When Murdock returns to the world of laws and conservation, his perspective falls out of that focus. All of this is echoed by Ray’s camera-work.

8/10

The Mummy: Karl Freund

Karl Freund's The Mummy was one of the last of the great Universal Monsters films that I needed to see. I had already seen the first three Frankenstein films, the first two Gill-Man films, Dracula (1931), The Invisible Man (1933), and The Wolf Man (1941). Now I'm mad that I saved The Mummy for last. It follows the resurrection of an Ancient Egyptian priest named Imhotep who was mummified alive for trying to bring his lost love back to life. I must say that Imhotep is my favorite classic Boris Karloff role. Yes, he defined Frankenstein's Monster. But there's an intensity and sadness that dominates Imhotep that puts him into a completely different league than the Monster. Plus, there's just something about the Mummy character archetype that appeals to me: the willingness to wait thousands of years for a loved one, the desperation to find her again, the selflessness of his search. And, yes, he kills people in his search. But he's not some diluted "vegetarian" monster, after all. I love the character's pathos. But I'm just rambling again. I enjoyed The Mummy. It's probably my favorite Universal Monster film, second only to Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954). Move over, Dracula, Imhotep is here!

7/10

Radar Secret Service: Sam Newfield

Did you know that radar can be used to fight crime and stop foreign powers from stealing our precious Uranium-238? No? Well, that's probably because that is preposterous. Too bad nobody told Sam Newfield, director of Radar Secret Service. The film depicts radar as a one-stop cure-all for criminal behavior. When a group of thieves steal the aforementioned Uranium-238 (a key ingredient for nuclear weapons), the government must use radar to stop them! There's just one problem: radar can't detect Uranium-238 when it isn't moving. So all the criminals have to do to thwart pursuing authorities while transporting the Uranium-238 is stop the car. Now, to me, this seems like a fatal flaw on the part of radar. But the government authorities don't thin so! Their solution? Use a female mole to break into their operation. In the end, it is the mole who ultimately defeats the criminals. And who do the authorities give the credit for their successful operation? Radar! It may be me, but it seems like Radar Secret Service only proves the worthlessness of radar. It doesn't help that the rest of the film is boring, tedious, and monotonous.

3/10

Operation Double 007: Alberto De Martino

I don't feel that I need to say much about Alberto De Martino's Operation Double 007. This good-natured spoof of James Bond films has enough charm to pass muster. If you approach this film with the same sense of humor that the creators did, then you'll enjoy it. If you don't and you expect a serious spy film, then you will be sorely disappointed. The premise is so laughably absurd but strangely organic that it could be mistaken as the pitch for an SNL sketch: when James Bond is too busy doing work for the British government, his kid brother Neil Connery is called in to save Europe from an evil organization named THANATOS. Their evil plan has something to do with magnetization machines that could help them conquer the world...or something like that. What's important is that Operation Double 007 has enough action and silliness to keep it afloat. In addition, Neil Connery isn't that bad of an actor, to be honest. He is also provided with enough fun gadgets, random skills (instant hypnosis and lip-reading!), and exotic women to satisfy even the most jaded Bond fan. Not to mention that the film has an incredible theme song...

5/10

I Accuse My Parents: Sam Newfield

Sam Newfield's I Accuse My Parents is one of the better social delinquency films to come out of the 1930s and 1940s. It is still incredibly heavy-handed in its message, but I find that the actual plot and the main character are strong enough to carry the film without collapsing under the weight of moralistic melodrama. Here's what you need to know: a young man named Jimmy with neglectful parents accidentally gets drawn into the world of organized crime while trying to impress his night-club singer girlfriend. But unlike a lot of other protagonists in these films, Jimmy's parents are so warped and destructive that you actually sympathize with him. These are parents who literally don't pay any attention to him, are constantly drunk, endlessly fight, and abandon him on his birthday to go party at the beach. So we can understand why Jimmy has such extreme psychological hang-ups, unlike, say, the murderous gang in Ed Wood's The Sinister Urge (1961). Plus, the kindly diner-keeper who finally gives him a break when he's on the run was a refreshing breath of air in an otherwise gloomy film. I usually can't stand these films...but if I was forced at gunpoint to watch one...I would choose I Accuse My Parents.

5/10