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

Legendary Weapons of China: Lau Kar-leung

Lau Kar-leung’s Legendary Weapons of China is a mess. I wish I could say that it was a fun mess, but it isn’t. It’s a frustrating one. The story is almost impossible to follow. I could barely understand it even with the wikipedia plot summary open in front of me. The fight scenes are flashy and creative, but ultimately they leave little impression. See, if we don’t know who is fighting and why, then the fights lose all dramatic meaning. This is a shame because there are elements of Legendary Weapons of China that I really like: it’s interesting to see a film where the members of the Boxer Rebellion are the heroes; there’s interesting lore surrounding the three branches of the Boxers (Spiritual fighters, Maoshan, Magic Fighters) as well as complimentary fighting styles; I get a childish sense of glee watching all 18 legendary weapons being shown off and used. There are three sequences that I genuinely loved: when a con artist and his lackeys put on a fake kung fu fight in the middle of a crowded street; when that same con artist is controlled by a voodoo master near a giant lakeside outhouse; the final rumble where the legendary weapons are demonstrated one after the other in quick succession. But the story was so confusing and disengaging that I had a hard time watching it.

4/10

Drunken Master: Yuen Woo-ping

Lest we forget that there actually was a Drunken Master 1 that came out before the much more well known Drunken Master 2, I decided that I should give Yuen Woo-ping's Drunken Master a watch so I could compare the two. And wouldn't you know it, I think that the sequel is better. That's not to say that Drunken Master is a bad film: it features incredible stunt-work and excellent fight choreography. But the story is simply all over the place. Plot points pop up and drop out with little rhyme or reason (whatever happened to Chan's aunt and niece, anyhow?), the main villainous assassin only has about 3 minutes of screen-time before the last act, and the training sequences aren't creative enough to help distract the audience from the fact that they are watching yet another old-master-teaches-rebellious-student plot. The training sequences themselves are vastly overshadowed by the ones in Chan's earlier film Snake in the Eagle's Shadow (1978). In fact, Drunken Master in general feels like an unnecessary retread of that earlier, better film (many of the same actors were even used in similar roles). In an odd way, Drunken Master feels like The Evil Dead (1981) to Snake in the Eagle's Shadow's Evil Dead 2 (1987).

7/10

Hello everyone. So, I wrote about this film over here: http://theretroset.com/jackie-hans-early-funnier-ones/.

Drunken Master 2: Lau Kar-Leung, Jackie Chan

If I judged Lau Kar-Leung and Jackie Chan's Drunken Master 2 based solely on its fight scenes, it would easily rank as one of the best martial arts movies I've ever seen. If I judged it based on the last 20 minutes alone, it would still rank as one of the best martial arts movies I've ever seen. Chan's last inebriated one-on-one fight in the industrial mill is one of the most kinetic, energetic, and creative displays of physical prowess that I have ever witnessed. He literally threw himself into a vat of fire for a fight scene. But where Drunken Master 2 falls short is its story. The central plot about Chan, his family, and his friends stopping a British ambassador from stealing priceless Chinese artifacts and smuggling them abroad is all well and good (even if it does smell a bit too "state-approved" if you catch my drift...). But much of the first third and middle section are devoted to extended screwball/slapstick routines involving ginseng roots and bonsai trees. It simply feels out of place when compared to the tone of the rest of the film.

8/10

Black or White: Mike Bender

To read, go to: http://theyoungfolks.com/review/movie-review-black-or-white/47442.

7/10

Planet of the Vampires: Mario Bava

Mario Bava's Planet of the Vampires was the little B-movie that could. In spite of incredible budgetary limitations, he managed to create an atmospheric sci-fi horror film that manages to hold up despite its flaws. The film is a veritable textbook of frugal ingenuity: in-camera effects and forced perspective were extensively used; the meager number of set dressings were multiplied via mirrors and multiple exposures; mist drenched all of the exterior sets to hide the fact that they were, in fact, on a sound stage. Don't have enough to pay for monster costumes? Make your monsters invisible beings who can possess and reanimate corpses! Planet of the Vampires doesn't quite succeed in hiding the fact that it was very cheaply made. But in a strange way, its practical effects give it an endearing quality. The plot might chug along unsteadily and some of the more ambitious effects might fall apart, but I'd rather re-watch this film than any number of modern-day CGI-fests. Plus, the scene where the astronauts investigate a scuttled alien spaceship and find giant skeletons...well, let's just say that I can't blame Ridley Scott for stealing it for his 1979 film Alien.

6/10

Randy Rides Alone: Harry L. Fraser

It's gotten to the point where all of these John Wayne Poverty Row Westerns are blurring together in my mind. Even worse, the blurring begins as soon as I finish watching them, making them a real hassle to review. So what did I think of Harry L. Fraser's Randy Rides Alone? Well, unlike some of the other public domain Westerns I've seen starring John Wayne, the story is at the very least somewhat coherent and followable. Plus, I enjoyed the climax due to a couple of long shots that featured up to a dozen people crawling up a mountain like ants while shooting at each other. The opening scene where John Wayne unknowingly walks into a saloon where everyone has been murdered was surprisingly effective as well (particularly in its use of a mechanical piano that goes on and on and on despite its owners being dead). Everything else about Randy Rides Alone is already a foggy haze...

4/10

Snake in the Eagle's Shadow: Yuen Woo-ping

Yuen Woo-ping's Snake in the Eagle's Shadow is one of the most deliriously entertaining films I've seen in quite some time. The story is about as stock as you could possibly get in a kung fu film: the last master of a powerful form of kung fu passes on his teachings to a kind-hearted outcast while being pursued by the murderous disciples of a rival school. But where Snake in the Eagle's Shadow truly shines is in its incredible synthesis of comedy and action. I have seen a number of comedic kung fu films where the comedy and action blended together about as well as oil and water. But here it is awe-inspiring: Pai Cheng-Tien's battle against creditors near the beginning of the film, his bowl fight scene with Chien Fu, Chien Fu's training, and Chien Fu's creative solution to keeping his floor clean from dirty footprints. Snake in the Eagle's Shadow was a watershed moment for kung fu films for two reasons. First, it was one of the first kung fu films to widely utilize comedy. Second, this was the film that made Jackie Chan a superstar. Both comedic kung fu and Chan had appeared in previous films. So Snake in the Eagle's Shadow can be seen as kung fu's Stagecoach (1939), a film which perfected what other genre films had created.

9/10

So, hello. I wrote about this film over here: http://natesminireviews.blogspot.com/2015/01/snake-in-eagles-shadow-yuen-woo-ping.html.

Yo Yo: Pierre Étaix

Pierre Étaix's Yo Yo is not a silent film. But it might as well be. Here is a film that operates using the visual language pioneered and perfected by American silent comedians like Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton. But Yo Yo is more than a mere homage: it utilizes their techniques to tell a story of loss and redemption, melancholy and joy that belongs solely to Étaix. To compare him to one of his cinematic countrymen, Étaix is Tati stripped of his distanced curiosity with modern society and technology. Yo Yo exists totally within a world of social conventions and expectations. Yet it isn't stifled by them. Instead, they enhance the genius of his comedy. If Tati had directed a sequence where a crowd of rich socialites converged on a giant mansion, one can't help but imagine that it would end in innocent chaos. But Étaix believed too much in manners and proper behavior to allow that. And there is his genius: his is a world of chaos manifesting itself within societal expectations, not without or in defiance of them.

10/10

Terror of Mechagodzilla: Ishirō Honda

With Ishirō Honda's Terror of Mechagodzilla, I can now truthfully say that I have seen every Godzilla film from the Shōwa era. And, boy, what a whimper to go out on. Late Shōwa films varied wildly in quality. Some, like Jun Fukuda's Godzilla vs. Gigan (1972), rank among the best kaiju films ever made. Others, like Fukuda's Godzilla vs. Megalon (1973), rank among some of the worst. Terror of Mechagodzilla is hilariously incompetent: the alien costumes look like they were rented from Party City, the central romance is underdeveloped, the human scientist villain isn’t compelling. The last 20 minutes are basically a crappy wire-fu movie where each punch and blow sends the kaiju flying back like they had been punched in the chest by Steven Seagal. Even worse, the film is completely superfluous. Terror of Mechagodzilla doesn't truly feel like its own film. Instead, it feels like an unneeded epilogue to the previous Godzilla film, Fukuda's Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla (1974). All I can say is that the Godzilla franchise was clearly running on fumes at this point. Perhaps it was a good thing that the big guy took a few years off before his next film.

4/10

The Producers: Susan Stroman

[Revisit Review]

You can really tell that Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick perfected their roles onstage before doing them in Susan Stroman's The Producers. How? Because they do their own pratfalls. I tell ya...in this day and age of litigation and CGI, it's refreshing to see an A-list celebrity like Broderick go flying backwards head-over-heels after getting struck by Nazi Will Ferrell. This film was clearly made only because the Broadway adaptation of Mel Brooks' classic comedy became such a runaway success. But to the film's credit, about 90% of the material translates well from stage back to screen. The film's 134 minute run-time was really pushing it, though.

7/10

Rififi: Jules Dassin

[Revisit Review]

How funny, then, that perhaps the greatest French crime film ever made was done by an American? Of course, Jules Dassin was in exile when he made Rififi. And the film is most certainly a synthesis of American and French crime genre tropes into something bold and new[ish]. Maybe it wasn't the apotheosis of the "French Cool." That honor would definitely go to Jean-Pierre Melville with his films Bob le Flambeur (1956), Le Doulos (1962), and Le Samouraï (1967). And maybe Jacques Becker had stylistically beaten Dassin to the punch with films like Touchez pas au grisbi (1954). But it hardly seems to matter. There is a purity of theme, character, and narrative in Rififi that almost puts those other classic films to shame.

10/10

Strange Magic: Gary Rydstrom

To read this review, go to: http://www.theyoungfolks.com/review/movie-review-strange-magic/47106.

5/10

The Wages of Fear: Henri-Georges Clouzot

[Revisit Review]

Has there ever been a simpler, more devastatingly effective set-up for a suspense thriller than Henri-Georges Clouzot's The Wages of Fear? Having already seen the film, I knew exactly what was going to happen and when. But still, the film made me have a physical reaction: shortness of breath and a low-stage panic attack. Re-watching the film, I made sure to pay careful attention to the construction of Clouzot's story. I discovered two things. First, news about the oil well explosion doesn't show up until 37 minutes in. Everything beforehand was used to develop the central characters and to define the atmosphere of exploitation and helplessness that pervades the town. Second, the actual truck journey doesn’t start until the one hour and one minute mark. Therefore, the central suspense sequence lasts for almost the length of an average Hollywood movie.

10/10

Curse of the Swamp Creature: Larry Buchanan

Larry Buchanan's Curse of the Swamp Creature is one of the most weepingly hilarious, unapologetically atrocious movies I've ever seen. Not a thing about the movie works: there is atrocious day-for-night shooting; laughable costumes that would be rejected from Party City; horribly racist “voodoo natives” whom I think were literally picked up off the streets of a nearby city (how many witchcraft shamans wear T-shirts and blue jeans?); ADR the likes of which makes one yearn for the sophisticated touch of Vic Savage's The Creeping Terror (1964); performances so wooden you could use them to build a log cabin (Jeff Alexander's turn as Dr. Simond Trent deserves to go down in history as one of the great bad movie performances); a nonsensical, meandering story; and stock footage of alligators feeding on Dr. Trent's victims that are integrated into the film with all the skill and nuance of a palsied lumberjack (I love how in scenes where the bodies are first thrown into the reptile-infested water you can see that it is so obviously a swimming pool).

1/10

The Double Life of Véronique: Krzysztof Kieślowski

[Revisit Review]

At the risk of repeating sentiments expressed in past reviews, the films of Krzysztof Kieślowski leave me with a transcendent sense of awe that makes me feel at once small and vastly significant within the universe. I still believe that his masterpiece is Three Colors: Blue (1993). But if I had to pick a runner-up it would be The Double Life of Véronique. Unlike with Three Colors: Blue where I identified with the imagery and the story, the story in this film leaves me feeling a tad cold. But the heart-achingly, heart-breakingly, heart-stoppingly beautiful camerawork and cinematography more than make up for any narrative shortfalls. The sequences where Weronika performs an impromptu sing-along with a men's choir and where Alexandre Fabbri puts on a puppet show are two which stand out to me as being among the greatest in all recent European cinema. They infected my brain years ago when I first watched the movie and experiencing them again today was nothing short of glorious.

9/10

'Neath the Arizona Skies: Harry L. Fraser

I honestly can’t remember the last time I had so much trouble following such a bad movie. I can’t believe that a film with barely an hour-long run-time had such a complicated, confusing, and cluttered plot. Harry L. Fraser's 'Neath the Arizona Skies was somehow over-plotted for a Poverty Row Western. I don't know if I should be impressed by their ambition or ashamed that they failed so spectacularly. It doesn't help that the film features one of the most annoying child characters that I've ever encountered: a young Indian girl that has the unusual talent of doing or saying the worst possible thing at the worst possible time. The most egregious example? Walking out of a closet and asking John Wayne if she can stop hiding yet while he was still talking with half a dozen kidnappers who wanted her blood. I suppose it is interesting that this time around Wayne has to save an Indian girl from a bunch of murderous white kidnappers. It's like bizarro-The Searchers (1956).

3/10

Project Moon Base: Richard Talmadge

For all of its faults, I can't hate Richard Talmadge's Project Moon Base. The film has ambition, dammit! Maybe it had a lot to do with the input of Robert A. Heinlein, but the film was a breath of fresh air from the morass of 50s low-budget sci-fi films. There are scenes aboard an orbiting space-station where crew-members walk and sit on the walls, floor, and ceiling (sometimes in the same shot) that are absolutely brilliant for their time. Including so many prominent women of power in a 50s B-movie couldn't have been an easy task, but I applaud the film for following through with it. But for all of its effort, it is still bogged down by the problems and prejudices that plagued so many of its contemporaries: cheap model effects; lengthy scenes of static exposition; and the main female protagonist is essentially shooed to a corner in the last act. But again, the film gets major points for trying. Side note: it's nice to see that in the future we've invented bras that keep breasts sharp and pointy as rockets even while they undergo multiple G's during spaceflight take-offs.

5/10

The Mad Monster: Sam Newfield

How? How could a movie about a mad scientist using a werewolf to kill his enemies be so BORING? Sam Newfield's The Mad Monster is a disappointing slog not just because of the vapid execution of its plot, but because the film clearly had some talented people working on it. The sets are pleasantly creepy and atmospheric (it's just too bad that there were maybe only two of them). The cinematography was also surprisingly decent by Poverty Row standards. One early sequence where the mad scientist has an argument with the ghostly specters of four of his contemporaries was rather impressive considering the technological limitations of the time. Tragically, the rest of the film can't compete. The pacing is all over the place, the characters are woefully stock, and all of the performances are nauseatingly wooden.

3/10

Pigs and Battleships: Shohei Imamura

[Revisit Review]

To read this review, go to: http://www.theyoungfolks.com/review/the-film-canon-pigs-and-battleships-1961/46767.

9/10

She Was Like a Wild Chrysanthemum: Keisuke Kinoshita

Keisuke Kinoshita's She Was Like a Wild Chrysanthemum is a pastoral film in both tone and technique. There are long sequences of people slowly walking through pretty, outdoor backgrounds while quiet, introspective music noodles on and on. But it falls into a common trap of many pastoral films: one begins to wonder if these sequences were included not because the artist meant for them to mean something, but because they needed to pad the film out. Watching it, I didn't feel myself awakened to some enigmatic, esoteric truth the way the films of Andrei Tarkovsky and Béla Tarr do. I was instead bored by the outdoor sequences and frustrated by the overly melodramatic plot. Can anyone tell me why the villagers and townsfolk were so needlessly cruel to the teenage couple? I know they were cousins, but I was under the impression that cousins shacking up and getting married wasn't much of a big deal in Japan. So why was it here? The oval-shaped masks over the lengthy flashback sequences lost their meaning and beauty after the first hour of their use. It just felt unnecessary, much like the rest of this film.

6/10

Day of Wrath: Carl Theodor Dreyer

[Revisit Review]

If I remember correctly, Carl Theodor Dreyer's Day of Wrath may have been the first art house film I ever saw. Watching it on a programming block on a classic movie channel that featured films from the Criterion Collection, I thought that it was directed by that dour Swede Ingmar Bergman that I had heard so much about. At the time, I had no idea who Dreyer was. And I certainly didn't know that the film would stay in my mind for years afterwards. I have literally seen thousands of films and only a few have truly stayed with me over the years. Day of Wrath is one of them. Why is that? Because it may have been my first art house film? Possibly. But rewatching it I was captivated by the central conflict in the first act vis-à-vis Herlof's Marte and the religious authorities. It’s about people trapped in an idealogical quandary: the Church literally can’t understand why the witch doesn’t want to save her soul; the Witch literally can’t understand why the Church doesn’t realize that she doesn’t care and that she just doesn’t want to die. Years after seeing it for the first time, Dreyer is no longer a stranger to me. Now I can position the film clearly within the body of Dreyer's other works. And I've noticed something...curious: the film is practically a companion piece to The Passion of Joan of Arc (1928). Both are about women who are destroyed by hyper-conservative, theocratic societies for supposedly channeling supernatural power. And furthermore, Day of Wrath and The Passion of Joan of Arc might represent the second and third entries in an unofficial trilogy that began with The Parson's Widow (1920) that examine the role of supposedly magic women in feudal European society. I'll have to look into this further...

9/10

Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla: Jun Fukuda

While occasionally visually inventive, Jun Fukuda's Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla is a disappointing retread of past Godzilla movies. The main villain is a palette-swapped version of Godzilla and the supporting hero kaiju was clearly originally supposed to be Mothra (it lives on an island and can only be summoned by the singing of a female priest). There are too many human supporting characters, King Caesar's design looked (unintentionally) shabby, and Godzilla turning himself into a magnet is one of the most laughable super-powered ass-pulls since Superman used a kiss to wipe Lois Lane's memory. The fight scenes are the film's strongest point. Watching Mechagodzilla utilize weaponry in two different directions simultaneously while fighting Godzilla and King Caesar was perhaps the most entertaining part of the film. But the story just wasn't up to par. This movie felt like a holding pattern. And by the way...did the Simians, another extraterrestrial race hell-bent on conquering earth who disguise themselves as humans but are actually animals (Space Hunter Nebula M Aliens, anyone??), know about the Okinawan prophecies or did the prophecies predict the Simian invasion? That confused me to no end.

6/10

Godzilla vs. Megalon: Jun Fukuda

[Revisit Review]

This movie didn't hurt half as much as I thought it would. I had already seen Jun Fukuda's Godzilla vs. Megalon twice before, but both times were the hackneyed English-language versions shown on Mystery Science Theater 3000. So I tracked down a copy of the film's original Japanese release so I could give it a fair review. Godzilla vs. Megalon still isn't very good: Godzilla is essentially a supporting character to some elementary school child's OC; the undersea aliens look like bargain-bin Hercules impersonators; and everything feels phoned in and rushed except for the inevitable Jet Jaguar/Godzilla vs. Megalon/Gigan fight and the opening scene where the undersea aliens drain a lake. I hated watching Godzilla, the King of the Monsters, job for Jet Jaguar and act like some Super Sentai instead of a kaiju.

3/10

Godzilla vs. Gigan: Jun Fukuda

Jun Fukuda's Godzilla vs. Gigan is everything that I wanted in a kaiju movie. There's a unity of narrative and tone that's so rare in the Godzilla franchise sequels: there are none of the bizarre plot cul-de-sacs or divergences that so plague kaiju films; there is no abrupt humor elbowed into the scary parts; and there is a surprisingly decent balance between the screen-time given to the human characters and the kaiju. In fact, and I can't believe I'm actually going to say this, but I really dug the human characters. The protagonist is a bit grating at times, but he's generally affable. And I loved the hippie dude and the kung fu writer’s agent. The kaiju look fantastic, too. Gigan has one of my favorite kaiju designs ever put to film. The enemy kaiju are legitimately terrifying; their initial rampage of Tokyo and their industrial district brawl with Godzilla and Anguirus are, respectfully, one of the best destruction sequences of the Shōwa era and one of the best kaiju fights that I've ever seen. Some people may think that there was too much fighting. But in my opinion, as long as the fights are well-choreographed and gripping (which they are in this film), complaining about too much fighting in a kaiju film is like complaining about too much singing in a musical. The genre conventions of the kaiju film deserve to be treated with as much respect as any other established genre. And Godzilla vs. Gigan does the most amount of justice to them in any kaiju film that I have seen since the original Godzilla (1954). Side note: I'm not sure why, but having Godzilla and Anguirus communicate via speech bubbles didn't piss me off nearly as much as I thought it would. In fact, it didn't piss me off at all. And considering my hatred for almost everything deliberately kitsch and cheesy in the kaiju genre, that is quite exceptional.

9/10

Taken 3: Olivier Megaton

To read this review, go to: http://www.theyoungfolks.com/review/taken-3-review/46368.

5/10

Taken 2: Olivier Megaton

There are certain things that I'm willing to accept in the name of suspension of disbelief. Liam Neeson as a nigh unstoppable killing machine? Sure. His daughter, a young woman who hasn't even gotten her driver's license yet, managing to successfully pull off a high-speed car chase in the crowded streets of Istanbul? Okie-dokie. Neeson using the sound of grenade explosions to triangulate his location in a massive city? You got it. But the idea that his wife and daughter would travel to Istanbul and surprise Neeson with a vacation...after having the DAUGHTER BEING KIDNAPPED BY EVIL EUROPEANS IN THE LAST FILM...is just too much to take. And sane person would never return to Europe under any circumstances if they lived the events of the first film. That being said, I did enjoy the scenes where Neeson had to work together with his daughter to free himself and locate his missing wife. These two characters had a great dynamic and if the film had focused primarily on them, I would have liked the film immensely. But these good parts are vastly overshadowed by shoddily edited action scenes, generic action movie dialogue, and cliched story beats.

4/10

The Kid with a Bike: Jean-Pierre Dardenne, Luc Dardenne

Realism is one of the hardest things to get right in movies. It is even harder to do realism in a manner that isn’t pretentiously aware and full of itself as being realistic. The Dardenne Brothers are the masters of seemingly effortless realism. Their film The Kid with a Bike differs greatly from much of their other work: it utilizes music, a brighter color palette, and is influenced by fairy tales. And yet it is also a film of quiet restraint. And it's this quiet restraint that makes the film so powerful. Thomas Doret is excellent as Cyril, a 12-year-old boy who is abandoned by his father and only gradually comes to accept the fact that he has been abandoned. His character arc is absolutely fascinating and believable. By the time the film's remarkable conclusion is reached, we genuinely believe that Cyril has been changed for the better. I do wish, however, that the story's fairy tale elements had been emphasized a bit more.

7/10

All Monsters Attack: Ishirō Honda

Now that I think about it, Ishirō Honda's All Monsters Attack may have the greatest runtime-to-kaiju-footage ratio that I've ever seen in a Japanese Godzilla movie. And yet, it is easily the worst Godzilla film I have ever seen. So I don't want to hear any more belly-aching from people who claim that Gareth Edwards' Godzilla (2014) sucked because you didn't see much of the titular kaiju. Let it be forever known that kaiju screentime does not equal cinematic quality. I hated this movie. I hated how they made an annoying, bratty child the protagonist (what is this, a Gamera movie?). I hated how the use of stock footage was the norm and not the exception. I hated how they neutered Godzilla; how they made Minilla talk; how they officially converted kaiju into children's mascots; how they broke up the occasional interesting fight scene with scenes of the kid fighting some of the most laughably ineffectual yakuza members ever put on screen. I hated all of it. Well, that's not entirely true. I did enjoy watching Gabara Sith-Lightning Minilla. And Gabara had a pretty cool design (we need more hairy kaiju). But All Monsters Attack was miserable. I can't believe it was directed by the man who gave us Godzilla in the first place.

1/10

Destroy All Monsters: Ishirō Honda

Ishirō Honda's Destroy All Monsters was a dream come true: most of Toho's kaiju roster join together for what can only truly be described as an orgy of destruction. The film had a much bigger budget than the other Godzilla sequels of the time, and it shows. All of the special effects are outstanding: the costumes look great (even Minilla looks alright), the fight scenes are excellent (especially the King Ghidorah free-for-all), the models used for the various wrecked cities and science/military bases are well constructed (even if they all become strangely depopulated whenever the kaiju show up), and the spaceships and UFOs used by the ubiquitous human/alien bystanders all look fantastic. It was also interesting to see an instance where humans and kaiju legitimately had to work together to defeat a common threat...and succeeded. It's usually one or the other who ends up on top. The scenes focusing on the human characters drag on too long, much as they always do in kaiju films. But whenever the men in rubber suits show up it's pure cinematic magic.

8/10

Son of Godzilla: Jun Fukuda

Pardon me, but I have a quick question: if you are a group of scientists operating in a world where Godzilla and other gigantic monsters run amok, why would you conduct your highly radioactive experiments on an island that you know for a fact is populated by giant praying mantises? Such questions of basic logic have never been very high priorities in the Godzilla franchise. But this quandary from Jun Fukuda's Son of Godzilla bothered me more than usual. But regardless, Son of Godzilla ended up being much less painful than I originally thought it would be. Yes, Minilla was a terrible idea. Even worse was the transformation of a great iconic monster into the role of hapless babysitter-cum-parent. But with the exception of the Godzilla and Minilla suits, the special effects in this film were surprisingly good. Some of the process shots that juxtaposed the humans with the kaiju were actually pretty good. Though basic in concept and design, the Kamacuras and Kumonga costumes (puppets??) looked fantastic and genuinely frightening. The climactic battle where Godzilla, Minilla, and Kumonga fight in a snow-storm may easily be the best fight scene from this era of Godzilla movies; and certainly it is the most visually arresting one.

6/10

Sabotage: Alfred Hitchcock

To read this review, go to: http://www.theyoungfolks.com/review/the-film-canon-sabotage-1936/46022.

8/10