Forty Guns: Samuel Fuller

Forty Guns has some of Samuel Fuller's most daring and risky cinematography. It's obvious that he was awed by the possibilities of wide-screen cinematography and that he took every chance possible to show it off: bold compositions and impressive tracking shots dominate almost every scene. His use of tracking shots are particularly notable, especially one amazing scene where the camera starts with a bird's-eye view of a couple of lovers necking in a barn before rolling down to floor level. And yet the story doesn't manage to match the film's intense imagery. I didn't buy Barbara Stanwyck's character arc which began with her as a powerful landowner and ended with her as the protagonist's squeeze. The pathos just seemed perfunctory. Stanwyck also doesn't get enough screen-time to be properly nasty and vindictive. That's not to say that Forty Guns is a bad movie. But knowing Fuller, I'm surprised that it wasn't a lot better.

7/10

Antichrist: Lars von Trier

[Revisit Review]

Of all of the gruesome, disturbing, gory moments in Lars von Trier's Antichrist, the one that disturbs me the most is the short scene where Charlotte Gainsbourg forces the wrong shoes onto her child's feet. This is something that I think many people misunderstand about Antichrist: it's a gory film, but it's first and foremost a violent film; the gore is a natural extension of the story, but not the story's ultimate goal. It's also a heart-stoppingly beautiful film, too. But who cares! Blood and gore and pulverized testicles!

9/10

Fourteen Hours: Henry Hathaway

There's a famous anecdote which says that Federico Fellini was inspired to cast Richard Basehart for his role as the Fool in La Strada (1954) after seeing his performance in Henry Hathaway's Fourteen Hours, a gripping drama-thriller about a man who spends fourteen hours contemplating suicide on the ledge of a New York City hotel and creates a media circus. The film is remarkable and rivals the work of Billy Wilder in its contemptuous, cynical examination of how the public reacts to the spectacle of a man threatening to kill himself. In a curious move, it also features a number of brief vignettes of bystanders whose lives are changed by the events that they witness, including scenes featuring Grace Kelly in her cinematic debut. But I opened this film discussing Basehart's performance and I feel I should return to it. It is absolutely flawless. And yet, I find myself being drawn to a different performance as the one which I consider to be the most memorable: Paul Douglas as Charlie Dunnigan, a street cop who becomes the first responder to the crisis and eventually Basehart's confidant and friend. His performance is remarkable: restrained yet punctuated with intense emotional outbursts. We truly get the sense that he is a no-nonsense blue-collar joe with a big heart who is in way over his head. I've been sitting on this movie for months, waiting to get through a queue of foreign movies before I returned to good ol' Hollywood. And let me tell you...Fourteen Hours was worth the wait.

8/10

The Lazarus Effect: David Gelb

To read this review, go to: http://theyoungfolks.com/review/movie-review-the-lazarus-effect/51545.

5/10

Walkabout: Nicolas Roeg

[Revisit Review]

Nicolas Roeg's Walkabout is one of those blessed few films that can literally change the way you look at the world. Roeg's cinematography, his sensational use of intellectual montage, and his themes of what binds and divides the human species make Walkabout not just a film, but an experience. I have to say, though, I don't remember the film being so damned melancholy. But that's a good thing. Walkabout is an adventure and its ending should be treated as one: with sublime remembrances and pained memories of chances taken and not taken.

10/10

The Heroic Ones: Chang Cheh

A lot of credit must be given to director Chang Cheh for managing to juggle 13 principle characters in his 1970 martial arts epic (and considering the size and scale of the story and production, the term "epic" is appropriate and not just an adjective) The Heroic Ones. The group fight scenes are fantastic: chaotic and bloody; busy yet not crowded or cluttered. You would think that watching one or two fighters go up against 10+ foes simultaneously would get boring after a while. But it doesn't. The Heroic Ones also scratched a very peculiar itch I have for kung fu films: it highlights a minority culture that doesn't get much (or any) exposure outside of China. In this case it was the Shatuo people, a northern tribe of sinicized Turks who seized great political power in the 9th and 10th centuries. Because of the nature of the narrative (which concerns Chinese political struggles and uprisings), it isn't able to explore the idea of the Chinese frontier like King Hu's Dragon Gate Inn (1967). And though it is briefly mentioned, the idea of Chinese prejudice against their powerful northern neighbors doesn't play an important part in the story. Oh well...review the movie you have, not the movie you want.

In May of 2018 I wrote a proper piece on this film here:

https://www.theyoungfolks.com/review/121077/film-canon-the-heroic-ones-1970/ 

8/10

L'Age d'Or: Luis Buñuel

[Revisit Review]

I'm giving Luis Buñuel's L'Age d'Or a 7/10 ranking for the same reason that I gave one to Béla Tarr's Sátántangó (1994): I don't know if I can give a score to such an experimental movie. Of course, I wouldn't hesitate to give Un Chien Andalou (1929) a 10/10 score. But that's because it had a fundamental impact on both the surrealist movement and the cinema itself. L'Age d'Or feels like a retread of ground that was covered more thoroughly (and succinctly) in Un Chien Andalou. The anti-clericalism and focus on human sexuality was certainly more pronounced in L'Age d'Or, but I feel like Buñuel was just using the same tools he used in his earlier film. I can't say that he pioneered anything new with it. Still, L'Age d'Or is an important piece of cinematic history and its surrealistic techniques, though recycled, are interesting enough to warrant a 7/10 placeholder score.

7/10

Last Hurrah for Chivalry: John Woo

The great tragedy of John Woo's Last Hurrah for Chivalry is that its storytelling can't match its action scenes. For such an early movie, it's astonishing to see how in-control Woo was with his fight choreography. The group sword fight scenes, particularly the ones at the start and end of the film, are especially astonishing due to their size. Framing them like they were scenes out of one of the musicals that Woo grew up watching and loving, they are filmed largely in medium-long shots with long(ish) unbroken takes. I've rarely seen a martial arts film where the fighting looked so much like dancing. The individual villains in the third act have some of the most iconic and memorable fighting styles outside of the Five Deadly Venoms, particularly the Sleeping Buddha, a swordsman whose skills are unsurpassable...as long as he is asleep. He is now on the short list alongside Long Armed Devil from Chang Cheh's One-Armed Swordsman (1967) and the yoga master from Jimmy Wang's Master of the Flying Guillotine (1976) as one of my all-time favorite kung fu antagonists. But the central narrative about deception and shifting allegiances wasn't handled properly. By the one hour mark I had completely lost track of the story and who was fighting or not fighting whom and why (although I had mostly figured the story out again in time for the last act).

7/10

Gandahar: René Laloux

Comparison's between René Laloux's Gandahar and Fantastic Planet (1973) are perhaps inevitable. Both are cerebral animated science-fiction films full of strange art, strange worlds, and even stranger creatures. But Gandahar is a more traditional narrative epic: it follows a Chosen Hero going on a Quest to Save the World. And while the character and creature designs in Gandahar are more creative and extreme, it is the Draags' home planet from Fantastic Planet that feels more, well, alien. Fantastic Planet felt like a story that took place on a completely different world while Gandahar feels like it takes place in an exaggerated, fantastical version of our own. The choppy, minimalistic animation style also didn't lend itself well to the climactic battle scenes. And even worse, the film completely loses steam during the third act. Gandahar is a fascinating experience. But it is also a lacking one.

6/10

The Triplets of Belleville: Sylvain Chomet

[Revisit Review]

Sylvain Chomet's The Triplets of Belleville is one of the most human animated films that I have ever seen. This is due in no small part to the designs which transform even the most insignificant characters into exaggerated grotesques. In a strange way, this embraces and emphasizes the characters' humanity. The pantomimed storytelling was a brilliant touch that makes the film even more memorable than it would have been if it had used dialogue. And whatta soundtrack!

8/10

McFarland, USA: Niki Caro

To read this review, go to: http://theyoungfolks.com/review/movie-review-mcfarland-usa/50820.

7/10

Hot Tub Time Machine 2: Steve Pink

To read this review, go to: http://theyoungfolks.com/review/movie-review-hot-tub-time-machine-2/50781.

2/10

A Better Tomorrow 2: John Woo

A Better Tomorrow 2 is like if John Woo wanted to do an over-the-top tribute to John Woo. It takes everything that Woo did in the first film and amps it up to the nth degree: the obsession with honor and loyalty, the theme of redemption, over-the-top violence, and, of course, Chow Yun-fat being awesome. The last shoot-out is one of my favorite Woo sequences. And considering his pedigree, that is saying something. How can I not love a shoot-out that involves what I assume to be a samurai sword?  But what really tickles me pink is the film's conception of America: everybody is either armed to the hilt, a violent asshole, or a violent asshole armed to the hilt. The fried rice scene is pure gleeful lunacy. I don't know if any other actor other than Chow Yun-fat could have pulled it off. I also loved how the film dropped all pretense of having Ti Lung as the star: even though he's a "supporting character" this is Chow Yun-fat's film. He has the best scenes, the best lines, and the best action beats. And the bit during the final shoot-out where he repeatedly underestimates the power of his bombs and grenades was just adorable.

7/10

A Better Tomorrow: John Woo

[Revisit Review]

Though John Woo would go on to perfect the heroic bloodshed genre with such films as The Killer (1989) and Hard Boiled (1992), A Better Tomorrow has an undeniable power. It has a simple earnestness (aided in no small part by the wonderful soundtrack that sounds almost like Nino Rota and Ennio Morricone had a Hong Kong love-child) and a fierce style that make it delightful even in its heavier moments. But unlike his later films, A Better Tomorrow doesn't feel like an action movie, but a very intense drama broken up with the occasional action scene.

8/10

The Black Raven: Sam Newfield

Sam Newfield's The Black Raven would make a good stage play. Not "good" as in "of high quality." But "good" as in "of sufficiently engaging yet vapid quality that it would successfully distract the dinner-theater audience members from their lukewarm plates of spaghetti." Almost the entire film takes place in the eponymous Black Raven, a spooky hotel near the US-Canada border. One by one a host of crooks, suspicious ne'er-do-wells, and not-so-innocent bystanders file into its lobby during a vicious thunderstorm. Throw in a murder and a satchel full of stolen money and you have a passable mystery film. And that's what The Black Raven is: passable. It's not memorable, not exceptional, and not even that good. But it's passable.

5/10

Killer Mermaid: Milan Todorovic

Milan Todorovic's Killer Mermaid is another one of those films that leaves the viewer with nothing but questions. For instance, why would you take a traumatized woman with a crippling fear of water on vacation...to an island? Why does the film's ominous musical stings sound like the theme to The X-Files? Why did they think that they could get away with creature effects that look like they were purchased from a Spencer Gifts? Why the obsession with Moby Dick? Why did I expect anything different from a movie where one of the producers was the catering company? And why, oh why, did such a terrible, generic movie have such incredible, beautiful cinematography? I'm not kidding: Dimitrije Jokovic's HDCAM cinematography, especially his exteriors, was fantastic. It's like if Sven Nykvist did the cinematography for a Herschell Gordon Lewis splatter film.

3/10

Fog Island: Terry O. Morse

Terry O. Morse's Fog Island has a familiar pulp narrative: a mentally unstable man invites his enemies to a secluded mansion where he plans to kill them off one-by-one via a series of ironic traps. To the film's credit, Ira H. Morgan's cinematography is excellent: noir-esque lighting turns the mansion into a chiaroscuro nightmare with isolated light sources illuminating only fractions of rooms and backgrounds. But the tragedy is that Morse didn't have the directorial chops to pull off all of the intrigue that the story demands. What should have been a brooding, suspenseful thriller becomes bland and pedestrian with static visual language, an unoriginal screenplay, forgettable performances, and even more forgettable characters (although I did like that one "psychic" woman). It doesn't help that by the last 20 minutes I had no idea what was going on. Here's a free tip: 2- and 3-shots are not the best technique for framing important pieces of expository dialogue. They make the viewer's eyes wander. And eventually, they begin to glaze over.

4/10

One Mysterious Night: Budd Boetticher

So...this is how the mighty Budd Boetticher got his start in feature-length pictures, eh? I have to say that it was a lot better than some of the other debut films I've seen (The Delinquents [1957], anyone?). Clocking in at only an hour, One Mysterious Night was the seventh film in the Columbia Pictures Boston Blackie series. While nothing special, the plot was serviceable and the characters pleasing enough. Mercifully, none of the comedic relief roles were grating or annoying. One Mysterious Night has about as much in common with the rest of Boetticher's filmography as Les affaires publiques (1934) has with that of Robert Bresson. But it's still worth watching for Boetticher aficionados. Plus, it introduced me to a great new character that I'm eager to explore. This Boston Blackie is an ex-con who helps the police and a master of disguise? I'm sold!

6/10

When the Wind Blows: Jimmy Murakami

Jimmy Murakami's When the Wind Blows is the anti-Grave of the Fireflies. Isao Takahata's film is a masterpiece, make no mistake. But it takes every single opportunity to tug on the audience's heartstrings. It uses every single emotionally manipulative tactic imaginable. But the characters in When the Wind Blows approach the destructive nature of war with a stiff upper lip. They try their damndest to downplay and ignore the devastation caused by the nuclear apocalypse. And because of this, their suffering and eventual demise hit harder than the death of Setsuko, at least in my opinion. When the Wind Blows is one long, unendurable tragedy that hurts the very soul long before the bomb is actually dropped (the announcement of which, I might add, comes at exactly the 30 minute mark). The film made me reflect on my own mortality and through this made me feel like I was dying along with the protagonists. In my eyes, it is the greatest film about nuclear weapons ever made.

9/10

The Killer: John Woo

[Revisit Review]

To read, go to: http://theyoungfolks.com/review/the-film-canon-the-killer-1989/49721.

10/10

The Illusionist: Sylvain Chomet

[Revisit Review]

The first time I watched Sylvain Chomet's The Illusionist I was a blubbering, crying mess barely ten minutes into it. This time around, I managed to keep myself from weeping. But it was no easy task. The Illusionist is one of the most deft blends of comedy and tragedy since Charlie Chaplin's The Gold Rush (1925). But whereas Chaplin veered more towards comedy, Chomet veered more towards tragedy. The Illusionist is one of the best films about father-daughter relationships that I have ever seen as well as a devastating reflection on modernity in the entertainment industry. The scenes with the suicidal clown and the alcoholic ventriloquist...I tremble just thinking about them. The animation is a wonder to behold, magnificently capturing the body language and visual style of Jacques Tati. One last thing: without realizing it, I serendipitously discovered that I re-watched The Illusionist on the fourth anniversary of my first viewing of the film on February 10, 2011. Maybe there's a bit of magic in this film after all...

9/10

Kirikou and the Sorceress: Michel Ocelot

To read this review, go to: http://theyoungfolks.com/review/the-film-canon-kirikou-and-the-sorceress-1998/48731.

9/10

Dragon Gate Inn: King Hu

If the storytelling had been a bit tighter, I would have had no issue making King Hu's Dragon Gate Inn the second kung fu film that I have ever given a 10/10 rating to. But as it stands, the story can be a bit hard to follow. More than once I found myself asking who certain characters were and why they were fighting each other. But it never got to the point where I was frustrated. Everything else about the film works. The fights aren't just great, they are given incredible dramatic weight. I loved seeing a kung fu film set near China's frontier, a setting that I still feel is criminally underused. The scenery and buildings all seem dusty, sun-bleached, washed out. In many ways this feels like a Western, especially considering the fact that the film revolves around a small group of individuals in a single building being accosted by armed outsiders (Rio Bravo [1959] anyone?). This is a siege movie masquerading as a kung fu epic that channels American (and Italian) Westerns. It is, in a word, exquisite.

Check it out! I wrote a piece about this movie!
http://theretroset.com/dragon-inn-and-out/ 

9/10

One-Armed Swordsman: Chang Cheh

Chang Cheh's One-Armed Swordsman is proof that a mediocre movie can be redeemed by an excellent antagonist. He’s one of the best evil-for-the-sake-of-being-evil villains I’ve ever come across. His name is Long Armed Devil and to get revenge on a rival sword master he decides to murder all of his disciples and family members using a "sword-lock" that unfairly immobilizes an opponent, thereby allowing them to slice their stomachs open with their other hand. I felt genuine hatred for that bastard: cheating and then laughing as he murdered novice after novice like he was some big shot. He has a great evil laugh, too: a quick series of wide-mouthed bellows as he leans his head towards his back. Of course, one of the film's biggest problems is that his victims keep falling for his "sword-lock" despite the fact that many of them literally see him using it on other people. It's like those characters in Italian zombie movies who never shoot the undead in the head even after being told to. The insipid love triangle sub-plot did little to endear the film to me, as well. But the fight scenes (as repetitive and frustrating as they can be) and Long Armed Devil more than make up for these faults.

7/10

Heroes of the East: Lau Kar Leung

Lau Kar Leung’s Heroes of the East (1978) is a great film...in theory. The central idea is a martial arts fan's dream come true: a showcase of Chinese and Japanese fighting styles going toe-to-toe in a series of grudge matches. The central idea of the film is practically revolutionary considering the anti-Japanese sentiments that usually dominate the wuxia genre: that Japanese martial artists are honorable and highly skilled. And I don't want to under-emphasize how important that is! But I would like to point out something that almost sabotages the film: the Japanese never win a fight. Not even once. If the film wanted to point out that Chinese and Japanese martial artists were equals, having one side dominate the other isn't the way to do it. And quite frankly, some of the fight outcomes are straight-up bullshit. Perhaps the most insane example is when the protagonist defeats a Japanese karate expert...who has presumably trained for his entire life...after spending only a few minutes learning Drunken Kung Fu. And yes, I do mean minutes. And then there's the time when the Japanese judo expert is defeated thanks to the bystanders cheating and sabotaging him with oily rags. Again, the fight scenes are dreams come true. And I adore the idea of mutual respect between Chinese and Japanese fighting traditions. But for equality to be equality, both sides have to be, y'know, EQUAL. Also, I didn't like how the Japanese wife character became essentially irrelevant after the first half. She was the most interesting character in the entire film and she didn't deserve to be shunted into the background.

7/10