Union Station: Rudolph Maté

Here's a film that feels absolutely Hitchcockian in setup: a young woman named Joyce notices two armed men get on her train. She alerts the conductor who signals ahead for a railway policeman to come to the scene when they arrive at their next station. The policeman initially brushes her aside, thinking that she was making things up. But they soon discover that the two men are not only criminals, but they had kidnapped the blind daughter of the man that Joyce worked for and are holding her for ransom. See what I mean? Hitchcock could have taken this screenplay and produced another monumental classic with it. Instead, the film was given to Rudolph Maté, an esteemed Polish cinematographer (he had shot Dreyer's The Passion of Joan of Arc and Vampyr). While a case could be made that Maté was one of the greatest cinematographers who ever lived, his directorial skills were lackluster at best. The film plods along like a tired police procedural. The main villain is one of the most two-dimensional saps that I have ever encountered in a so-called "film noir," a genre that prides itself on psychological complexity and intrigue. Everything about this film screams mediocrity. Even Barry Fitzgerald, that old stalwart character actor with the warm Irish gleam in his eye, seems tired and bored. It's a stock story with stock characters that lead to a stock ending. And here's the kicker...the cinematography wasn't that good either.

5/10

Breathless: Jean-Luc Godard

When I first started to explore world cinema, Jean-Luc Godard's Breathless was one of the very first films that I sought out. After all, it has (rightfully) been called one of the most important films ever made. The film follows a French criminal who styles himself after Hollywood gangsters, in particular his idol Humphrey Bogart. After stealing a car and shooting a policeman, he becomes the object of a national manhunt. He steals away to his American girlfriend's apartment. Their relationship is put to the test as he tries to orchestrate an escape to Italy. The first time that I saw Breathless, I was mesmerized by the incessant use of jump cuts. In fact, most of the film's editing is surprisingly jarring. Even in the middle of a conversation, Godard would put an edit in between lines, positioning his characters in different positions and locations, resulting in a continuity shock for the audience. The story doesn't lend itself to much action or excitement, but Godard's editing gives it a kinetic energy that propels it forward at an astounding rate. Here's the thing, though. I think that the key to the film's success was that it was released at the right place at the right time. In essence, Breathless is both an ode and condemnation of Hollywood that announced a changing of the guard among acclaimed international directors. It's a film that values style over content to the point where the style becomes the content. It's a fairly unremarkable story that if told by anybody other than Godard would have resulted in a mediocre film. By itself, and on its own merits, it is a fantastic film, but I feel that it pales in comparison to the masterpieces that would soon follow in Godard's career. I believe that Truffaut's The 400 Blows was a more auspicious and historically significant debut. But Breathless should still be admired for its stylistic audacity and for launching the career of the cinema's greatest iconoclast.

First Viewing Score: 7/10
Second Viewing Score: 8/10

The 400 Blows: François Truffaut

At the end of October 2011, I was hospitalized for ten days. During this time, I didn't have access to any (good) movies and my only source of entertainment was a large book on French film history. One of the films that they kept mentioning was François Truffaut's The 400 Blows. I had seen it about three years earlier when I first started getting interested in serious cinema. I felt like I had to as a budding cinephile. After all, The 400 Blows was basically when international cinema hit puberty. But I was only somewhat impressed with it. I didn't really have any tolerance for the pacing and content of French films since I was still conditioned to prefer Hollywood films. A few scenes I liked...particularly the one where the teacher takes the students for a jog and they break off from his line in 2's and 3's until he is practically running by himself. But afterwards, I felt like I hadn't really gained anything from it. Now, having seen literally thousands of films and having developed a taste and tolerance for foreign fare (seriously...I can watch Ozu and Dreyer films in one sitting), I see The 400 Blows in a totally new light. I simply adore it. The film centers around the exploits of Antoine Doinel, a young boy in Paris who would come to be the central character in four of Truffaut's other films. He is a troublemaker, true, but he repeatedly encounters misfortunes that are mistaken by grown-ups as insubordination and bad behavior. He is eventually sent to an "observation camp" for "troubled youth" where he learns that his family has abandoned him. It is a sad story and one that we can all relate to. Truffaut always had an eye for realism, yet the film never seems boring. It has a life and energy to it that is strange and almost exotic. I still can't quite put the finger on why this film compels me as much as it does. But now I can appreciate it for the classic that it truly is instead of just thinking of it as another notch on my list of movies to see.

First Time Viewing Score: 7/10
Second Time Viewing Score: 10/10

The Wild Child: François Truffaut

François Truffaut's The Wild Child is a story of great simplicity: In 1798, a naked boy is discovered in the woods of Aveyron in southern France. He is captured, brought into society, and educated by Dr. Jean Marc Gaspard Itard (also played by Truffaut). It's sort of a twist on the Pygmalion story where a wise man educates and cultures a lower class Cockney woman. Only here the story doubles as a metaphor for the development of a child and the act of growing up. The story is approached with a sterile gaze that prevents it from being exploitative. But in some way, Truffaut still manages to endear us to the central characters. Truffaut always was fascinated by troubled youth. They reoccur again and again throughout his filmography: Antoine Doinel in The 400 Blows and the many children in Small Change immediately spring to mind. I wonder why they fascinated Truffaut so much. When compared to the other titan of the French New Wave, Jean-Luc Godard, it becomes obvious that he was much, much more interested in characters and human beings. And this film, probably more than any of his other works, was about what it meant to be human. It is a strong, fascinating drama that remains one of Truffaut's better unheard of works.

7/10

Smoke: Wayne Wang, Paul Auster

Smoke is part of a legion of low budget indie films that graced American cinemas in the early 90s. Along with such other films as Sex, Lies, and Videotape, Slacker, Reservoir Dogs, and Clerks, Smoke helped define a new generation of American film-makers and cinema. Smoke is about a group of very different people who all congregate at a small Brooklyn cigar shop. It branches off in a nonlinear fashion to examine each of these characters in greater depth. There's Paul Benjamin, a down-on-his-luck writer struggling to get over the death of his wife. His life is saved by Rashid, a young black runaway on the hunt for his biological father. Rashid has in his possession several thousand dollars that he stole from a group of robbers. This is used to pay back damages accidentally done to Augustus 'Auggie' Wren, the owner of the cigar shop, and his store when he is given a job there. Auggie is a solitary guy who one day is approached by his ex-wife whom he hasn't seen in almost 20 years. She tells him that he has a daughter and that she is a crack whore living on the street. They try to save her, but ultimately fail. Auggie gives the money he got from Rashid to his ex-wife so she can start her life over again. And so it goes, and so it goes. This film's true strength is in its wonderful screenplay by Paul Auster, who co-directed the film. I have some minor problems with some of the acting, but overall Smoke is a wonderful film about fascinating, lonely people.

7/10

The Color of Pomegranates: Sergei Parajanov

Not since Dziga Vertov's Man with a Movie Camera has there been a film that has so radically attempted to reinvent the very nature of cinematic language. Not only does Sergei Parajanov's The Color of Pomegranates feel like it came from another culture, but rather it feels like it came from another galaxy altogether. The film is a "biography of the Armenian ashug Sayat-Nova (King of Song) that attempts to reveal the poet's life visually and poetically rather than literally." In other words, the film makes no attempt at a traditional narrative through such techniques as cause and effect storytelling and continuity editing. Instead, it is a sequence of stunningly beautiful images wherein Paranjanov attempted to recreate Sayat-Nova's life as seen through his imagination and the looking-glass of his poetry. Several key life events are portrayed: him falling in love, him entering a monastery, him dying...But it is all so cryptic that any particular shot could in some way be representative of anything. And herein lies my problem. Notice that I said that it is my problem, not the film's problem. I feel like I wasn't ready, wasn't prepared, and wasn't familiar enough with Sayat-Nova, his work, and Armenian culture in general to appreciate this film. It is easily one of the most stunning beautiful films that I have ever seen. Some of the images will haunt me for the rest of my life (in particular one scene where Sayat-Nova as a young boy is sprawled out on the floor surrounded by an untold number of books drying in the sun). As of right now, Sunday, October 30th, 2011, I feel like I do not fully understand this film. I can only give it an 8/10 even though it deserves much, much more. For now, the film remains a cipher. Hopefully one day I can return to this film and appreciate it for the seminal masterpiece that it is.

8/10

The Call of Cthulhu: Andrew Leman

Probably the single greatest contribution to the genre of horror during the 20th century was H. P. Lovecraft's Cthulhu Mythos. A cycle of short stories published largely in the 20s, the Cthulhu Mythos created a brand new cosmology populated by Elder Gods that were beyond the scope of comprehension for regular men. One of the most famous short stories from this cycle was The Call of Cthulhu, first published in 1928. It was long thought to be unfilmable. However, in 2005 director Andrew Leman did the impossible: he captured the tale for the silver screen. The film clocks in at around 47 minutes and was made to replicate old horror films from the 1920s. As such, it is a silent film in black and white. Leman obviously did his homework, as The Call of Cthulhu both takes great inspiration and pays homage to classic silent horror, in particular the works of German Expressionism. The film follows the original story very accurately, changing only a couple of very minor details. It recounts the discoveries of George Gammell Angell, a prominent Professor of Semitic languages at Brown University in Providence, Rhode Island. The story follows his discovery of a tribal ritual where crazed worshipers pray to an unknowable horror. Afterwards, he finds a manuscript written by a sailor whose entire crew was killed after accidentally discovering an unknown island in the Pacific and awakening a monster that slept there. Leman keeps the film short and to the point. If it had been any longer, it would have dragged itself down. As it stands, The Call of Cthulhu is a fascinating film and one of the very few ever made that genuinely does justice to the original Lovecraft story.

8/10

Thirteen Assassins: Takashi Miike

I've never really been a big fan of Takashi Miike's work. Oh, I admire the fact that the man is a movie-making machine. Between 2001-2002 he made fifteen films! But I've seen several of his films, and none of them have ever really clicked for me. So I entered his remake of Eiichi Kudo's 1963 classic Thirteen Assassins very cautiously. I was pleasantly surprised to find that his vision of this infamous true story from Japanese history was very enjoyable. The story goes that in the 1840s, Lord Matsudaira Naritsugu, the brother of the current shogun, was a maniac who raped and killed people at will. His brother wanted to promote him to a higher station in the government. So Doi Toshitsura, a senior government official, hires Shinzaemon, an experienced samurai, to assassinate Naritsugu while he travels from Edo. Shinzaemon gathers eleven other samurai and a mountain hunter (who may or may not be a demon in human form) to concoct a plan to kill the evil lord. They do so by booby-trapping a town that Naritsugu will travel through into a death-trap. However, things take an unexpected turn when Naritsugu shows up with 200 guards instead of the 70 that they estimated. But they still decide to fight. The last 45 minutes are essentially a prolonged action scene. With only a few exceptions (i.e. the CGI bulls) the battle is incredibly detailed and realistic. Miike expertly choreographs the fighting so that it appears brutal, violent, and dirty. We truly believe that we are watching 13 warriors take on 200 guards. The original by Eiichi Kudo was a bit more focused on character development and internal politics. Obviously, this remake is more action oriented. But both interpretations succeed due to expert writing and craftsmanship. This is one action movie that even cinema snobs can enjoy.

8/10

Dead End: William Wyler

Fact: I will watch any movie, regardless of genre, year, or director, as long as Humphrey Bogart is in it. The only reason why I decided to watch this film was because I discovered that Bogart was in it. This was four years before his 1941 breakthrough into super stardom with High Sierra and The Maltese Falcon. Bogart was still being typecast as a rough-and-tough gangster. No more proof is needed on the state of Bogart's career than the fact that Sylvia Sidney and Joel McCrea outbilled him. But how was the film itself? It's...okay. The only reason that this film is worth noting is that it was the debut of the Dead End Kids, who wikipedia tells us were "a group of young actors from New York who appeared in Sidney Kingsley's Broadway play Dead End in 1935." This group of young men would later explode in popularity once transitioning into motion pictures, starring in several films, most notably the forgotten masterpiece Angels with Dirty Faces. Here, they play a motley gang of ruffians living next to the East River in New York City. According to this film, this neighborhood was among the poorest slums in the city, but the rich were attracted to the "picturesque view" of the river, leading them to constructing high rise apartments literally next door to tenement housing. Bogart enters the scene as Baby Face Martin, a successful mobster who returns to the slums to meet his mother and old girlfriend. Much to his horror, his mother hates and denies him and his old girlfriend is a syphilitic prostitute. Furious at his discoveries, he swears to not leave the city empty-handed. So he decides to kidnap a local rich boy and hold him for ransom. You may be wondering what this has to do with the Dead End Kids. The answer is...nothing really. This film's main problem is that it has two plots: Baby Face Martin's plot and the Dead End Kids shenanigans. The two come together near the end...but it isn't executed well enough to make the film congeal as a coherent whole. This film is interesting as a historical artifact. But as a film in and of itself, it could have been much better. But, hey! At least I still got my dose of Bogie!

6/10

The Guard: John Michael McDonagh

Have you ever seen a film that you believed would not have succeeded if not for the talents of its cast? I get that feeling about John Michael McDonagh's The Guard. On the surface, this is just a run-of-the-mill buddy cop, fish-out-of-water story. A trio of drug dealers travel to Ireland's Gaelic speaking Connemara Gaeltacht and start off a chain of brutal killings. They baffle Boyle (Brendan Gleeson), the local Garda (Irish policeman), a man known for his eccentric and unorthodox behavior. Apparently, the drug dealers are so high profile that the FBI from America becomes involved, sending a top agent named Everett (Don Cheadle) to assist in the case. And we all know how this goes...Boyle's home-spun and slightly racist Irish personality leads to wacky results when mixed with Everett's serious and professional demeanor. But miraculously, Gleeson and Cheadle pull off their roles so successfully that this tired formula becomes reinvigorated and entertaining again. While Cheadle's performance is commendable, Gleeson steals the show as Boyle. Boyle may be one of the most fascinating and original characters in recent cinematic history. His manner is highly crude and foul, as he hires prostitutes and takes drugs. He is openly racist ("I'm Irish, sir. Racism is part of my culture.") and combative. But there are hints that he is highly intelligent and may have been an Olympic level swimmer. He drinks and sleeps on the job, but he's also an extremely capable and effective cop. Gleeson's performance is a revelation. If anybody else had played Boyle, I doubt very seriously that they would have pulled it off. And thank goodness. Gleeson is the glue that keeps this strange and fascinating film from blowing up in its own face.

7/10

Drive: Nicolas Winding Refn

Now here's a Movie, with a capital "M." Nicolas Winding Refn's Drive is a dark, bleak film that calls back to an era when Hollywood wasn't afraid to take it slow and develop things like mood and tone. The entire film feels like it was transplanted from the late days of the Hollywood New Wave. It follows an unnamed driver played by Ryan Gosling who is a stuntman slash mechanic by day and getaway driver by night. He handles his job, and his life in general, with an eery, almost zen-like calm. Again and again my mind drifted to Alain Delon's performance in Jean-Pierre Melville's Le Samouraï. And just like Delon, Gosling's character gets into trouble because of his association with a young woman. In this case, it isn't a beautiful nightclub singer, but a single mom with a husband in prison. He gets involved with a robbery in order to pay back her husband's protection debt accrued while in prison. Of course, the robbery goes terribly, terribly wrong. It is up to the Driver to figure out how to get himself, and the single mother's family, out of trouble for good. This is a stunning, hypnotic film. The dialogue is terse and stylized, yet realistic enough that we can imagine ourselves delivering the lines in similar situations. Gosling's performance is a revelation. If this movie came out in the 70s, he would have been elevated to a place of super-stardom alongside Eastwood, Bronson, and McQueen. I learned that this film won the Best Director Award at the Cannes Film Festival. I'm thrilled that it didn't leave empty-handed. Hollywood needs to learn that good things CAN happen when they focus not on explosions and special effects, but story and characters.

8/10

All that Heaven Allows: Douglas Sirk

Douglas Sirk was the unparalleled master of movie melodrama during the 1950s. His films would inspire countless other directors and film-makers with his eye for emotion, scene construction, and color. Largely dismissed by critics during his hey-day, Sirk's films were later re-evaluated by European critics in the 1970s. They revealed that Sirk's films were masterpieces of irony and subversiveness against American culture in the 1950s. Chief among them is All that Heaven Allows, a film starring Jane Wyman and Rock Hudson. The film follows Cary Scott, a rich New England widow who falls in love with her lower class gardener Ron Kirby. Their love is scorned by Scott's spoiled college age children and socialite friends. She tragically breaks their affair off under the weight of social pressures. However, after Kirby suffers a terrible accident, she realizes that she can't stay away from him and deny true love. The film is a classic piece of melodrama. When viewed by modern viewers, it inevitably feels over-the-top and cheesy. But that was how melodrama worked over half a century ago. From an artistic standpoint, All that Heaven Allows is sumptuously beautiful and expertly shot. But it is the story and its disdain for 1950s conformity that sets it apart as a true classic of American cinema.

9/10

Cemetery Man: Michele Soavi

It's not easy being the cemetery caretaker in Buffalora, Italy. There's the long hours, social ostracization, and ugly work environment. Not to mention that seven days after being buried the dearly departed of Buffalora have a nasty habit of rising from the dead as flesh-eating zombies. But I suppose that little detail wasn't included in the job description. Nevertheless, Francesco Dellamorte maintains a careful vigil over the cemetery with his mentally handicapped friend Gnaghi, regularly destroying the "Returners" before they can escape and invade the village. Such is the world of Cemetery Man, a film by Italian horror director Michele Soavi. The film's key concept isn't a bad one: a humorous look at the life of a lovelorn outsider forever doomed to combat the undead. The only problem is that instead of deftly combining horror, humor, and romance (like the brilliant Shaun of the Dead), the film lurches from one genre to the other with all of the grace and poise of one of its undead villagers. It's a terribly unbalanced film that when you get right down to it isn't very romantic, isn't very funny, and, worst of all, isn't very scary.

5/10

Cave of Forgotten Dreams: Werner Herzog

It has been a long, long time since a film has moved me so deeply to the core. Werner Herzog's Cave of Forgotten Dreams travels deep into the Chauvet Cave in southern France, the location of the oldest surviving cave paintings known to man. Discovered by three explorers in 1994, the cave contains hundreds of paintings from the Aurignacian era, dating back 30,000 to 32,000 years ago. They show incredibly detailed depictions of animals long since extinct, including wild horses, rhinos, and cave bears. As Herzog points out, not only are they the oldest paintings known to man, they are also the oldest known works of art. Therefore, they can be seen as the long-lost ancestor to every known form of art, including, as Herzog cleverly mentions, the cinema. The cave paintings are so delicate that Herzog had to receive special permission from the French government to film them. Even then, they had to use incredible precautions so as not to disturb the contents and climate of the cave. This complicated the film's production as Herzog decided to shoot it in 3-D. Normally I would protest the use of 3-D in such a film, but Herzog crafts a fine argument for it: the painters used the shape and contours of the cave walls to accentuate and give life to their creations. Other than James Cameron's Avatar, this is the only film that I have seen that has used 3-D technology successfully. The entire film is bright and incredibly focused, even in the dim lighting of the cave's inner sanctums. But this film is about more than just showing pretty paintings. Herzog transforms this documentary into an ode to the human spirit and soul. He wonders if these paintings could have captured the moment when mankind stopped being mindless hunters and gatherers and became true humans, capable of dreaming and imagination. The painters may be lost to history, but their forgotten dreams survive, preserved as a time capsule in lost caves, waiting to be rediscovered.

8/10

Ali: Fear Eats the Soul: Rainer Werner Fassbinder

I've always been a cynical bastard when it comes to cinematic romances. So many films are too melodramatic, too fantastical, and too idealized when it comes to romance. I can count the number of films that I feel genuinely depicted love, real love, on one hand. And king among those films is Rainer Werner Fassbinder's Ali: Fear Eats the Soul. Highly inspired by the works of Douglas Sirk, the film can be interpreted as high melodrama as seen through the lens of the German New Wave. The two lovers couldn't be more different. The woman, Emmi, is a sixty year old widowed cleaning lady. The man, nicknamed Ali, is a 30 year old Moroccan "guest worker." The two are drawn together not out of sexual attraction or physical chemistry, but rather out of a deep seated need for company and emotional fulfillment. They get married and live together in a tiny, cramped apartment. However, nobody approves of their relationship. Emmi's children abandon her, her friends scorn her, and even local storekeepers throw them out. But still they cling to each other. Shot in under two weeks, the film was intended to be an exercise in film-making for Fassbinder in between two of his bigger projects. However, this little "exercise" would become one of his most famous and endearing films. It is a film of ethereal beauty, as Fassbinder framed and arranged his shots and characters like still lives and tableaux. It seems to exist in an uncanny valley of reality. But despite this, it is one of the most real and penetrating romances ever filmed.

10/10

Satan's Sadists: Al Adamson

I'm beginning to notice a disturbing pattern in low budget 60s biker films. Almost all of them start off with scenes of an evil group of bikers raping and/or killing innocent people. So, I'm confused. Isn't the appeal of biker films supposed to be the bikers themselves? Why would you alienate the audience by depicting them as homicidal rapists? I dunno. Satan's Sadists is a boring, poorly shot, and terribly acted entry into this unfortunate genre. It features the standard biker film plot: a group of evil bikers (in this case a gang called the "Satans") unleash a wave of crime and terror upon an innocent populace and is combated by a brave do-gooder. More often than not, the bikers all die. But in this case, the evil bikers take out quite a few people, too. If I remember correctly, Anchor, their leader, kills 8 people and rapes two women over the course of the film. But it's not necessarily the content that repulses me from this film. It is a terribly constructed piece of "cinema." The audio is frequently inaudible, many of the nighttime shots are impossible to see, and I think that all they used for lighting equipment was a flashlight. I've seen films with basically the exact same plot that were at least watchable. This one is not.

4/10

Village of the Damned: Wolf Rilla

Wolf Rilla's Village of the Damned is an amazing film full of old school horror that respects its audience. After a mysterious "black out" wherein everyone within a wide radius of the English town of Midwich falls unconscious for several hours, all of the town's women become mysteriously pregnant. They all give birth to a number of bizarre, blond haired children who act like robots. It soon becomes apparent that these children are "special." They are hyper-intelligent and seem to all share the same hive-mind. After a time, they begin to be able to read minds and control people through the use of a terrifying stare that makes their eyes shine with a bizarre light. Reports of similar incidents around the world reveal that these children are dangerous and possibly alien in origin. It is up to Gordon Zellaby (George Sanders) the father of one of the children, to destroy them before they wreck havoc across all of England. This is a smart film that doesn't rely on jump scares or gore. Instead, it creates an eery sense of dread and discomfort. Forget the terrible John Carpenter remake. This film is a bona fide British horror classic.

8/10

The Last Exorcism: Daniel Stamm

The biggest problem with Daniel Stamm's The Last Exorcism is that it occasionally forgets that it's a found footage movie. Allow me to explain...the film follows Reverend Cotton Marcus, a phoney preacher who performs fake exorcisms. The set-up of the film is that Marcus wants to reveal exorcisms as a scam after he has doubts about them when he hears that a young autistic boy, much like his son, was killed during one. So, he goes out for his final exorcism, a young girl named Nell living in the bayou. After he performs his phoney exorcism (complete with hidden sound speakers blaring demon noises and a cross designed to belch smoke) he leaves them, content that he has done his job. However, Nell somehow manages to follow them while in a strange trance. Long story short, it turns out that she might REALLY be possessed. There are two massive plot twists that I refuse to spoil because they are easily the best parts of the film. Just trust me when I say that the film will not end the way that you might expect. But now I return to my biggest complaint: it forgets that it's a found footage film. There are several shots, mostly transitional ones, where the audience is left scratching their heads wondering who in the hell actually filmed them. I won't spoil the ending, but suffice to say that it leave you wondering several questions: Who found this footage? Why wasn't it destroyed? Who edited it? Who added ORCHESTRAL MUSIC to lost documentary footage? These are major questions that can potentially ruin the intent of the film. And it's a real shame. This is a genuinely impressive film with some compelling performances. Maybe I'm being too harsh on it. After all, these are problems that I doubt that the average audience member would worry about. But they still bug me enough to give it a lower score.

6/10

Paranormal Activity 2: Tod Williams

I absolutely adored the first Paranormal Activity. It was clever, inventive, and proved that you could scare an audience senseless without relying on blood and gore. And now, one year later, the inevitable sequel is released. Is it as good as the first? No. Is it still a good horror film? Yes. The film follows the family of Kristi, the sister of the woman from the first movie. Her family is assaulted by another vengeful demon that likes to manifest itself with by knocking down frying pans and making kitchen doors fly open. But then it begins to get more angry and destructive. The family figures out that the demon is after their newborn son Hunter. The film is full of effective scares and the same suffocating atmosphere that made the first so successful. But here's my big problem: they go overboard with special effects and shatter our suspension of disbelief. Here's one of the main reasons why the first film worked so well: with the exception of the very last scene, everything strange and unusual that happened to the couple could be explained and rationalized. There was a sense that this really happened and that this was authentic found footage. In Paranormal Activity 2 we see people grabbed and dragged down flights of stairs and kitchen cabinets instigate full rebellions. Paranormal Activity 2 feels like a staged horror film. But it still remains one of the best horror films to come out in years. It isn't a masterpiece, but it'll get the job done.

7/10

The Ward: John Carpenter

Oh, John...John...what happened? You are one of the best genre directors who ever lived! How could you direct this miserable piece of garbage? You're breaking my heart, John! I know you can do better! *sigh* Oh well...John Carpenter's The Ward is an abysmal movie that leaves you confused, outraged, and depressed over the decline of one of horror's greatest auteurs. The film is a member of the insane asylum subgenre (i.e. Session 9, The Brood, Shutter Island). And, really, insane asylum horror films were cliched over a decade ago. The Ward brings absolutely nothing new to the table and plays like a highlight reel of subgenre cliches. The film follows a young woman named Kristen who is committed to an asylum after burning down a barn. Of course, the asylum is full of wacky and cooky inmates and a carbon clone of Nurse Ratched. Any resistance is met with Thorazine injections and electroshock therapy. One by one, the girls start to disappear, falling prey to a mysterious ghost/corpse/zombie/spirit named Alice who won't let them leave. Folks, this film is stupid. At first, it's so bad that you can genuinely enjoy how terrible it is. But then it has to go and indulge in one of the all-time worst plot twists that I have ever seen. I...I need to go lie down and watch In the Mouth of Madness and remind myself that there was a time when John Carpenter's name was synonymous with great cinema.

Official Score: 2/10
So Bad It's Good Score: 5/10

Black Sabbath: Mario Bava

Here's my problem with anthology films like Black Sabbath: they are a real pain to review. Do I review the movie as a cohesive whole? Do I review each story individually? I'm not sure. So all I can do is try to review its worth as a film-going experience. The American version of Black Sabbath (also known as the only version they had on Netflix) is comprised of three different stories that are connected with tongue-and-cheek scenes starring Boris Karloff. The first, The Telephone, tells of a Parisian call-girl who falls prey to a sinister and malevolent ghost. Then, The Drop of Water examines a case where a simple act stealing a ring from a corpse leads to ghastly consequences. The film ends with The Wurdalak, basically a vampire tale set in 19th century Russia. Are the segments scary? Well...because of edits made as part of the American version, The Telephone isn't very scary because it makes absolutely no sense. The other two stories have their moments of genuine terror. Is it a good horror film? I'm not sure. The stories are mostly good, but do they belong together? Why these three stories? Perhaps I'm thinking too hard. After all, any film with Boris Karloff as a vampire can't be all bad.

6/10

Red State: Kevin Smith

WARNING: REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS

It's been a full day since I watched Kevin Smith's Red State and for the life of me, I can't decide whether or not I love this film or if it pisses me off. It starts off like a normal horror/thriller. Three young teens go to a trailer in the middle of nowhere under the pretense of having a four-way with a woman they met over the internet. They are drugged and wake up as prisoners inside the Five Points Church, a local cult modeled after the Westboro Baptist Church that preaches against homosexuality. They discover, to their horror, that the church has been committing sacrificial murders of local homosexuals. That's all fine and good. Good suspense, some great scares, and one hell of a performance by Michael Parks as the leader of the church, Abin Cooper. But then the film turns on a dime and becomes a police procedural that follows ATF Agent Joseph Keenan (played by the always awesome John Goodman) who becomes involved in a shootout with the church after they murder a local police officer. The ATF agents mess up and accidentally kill one of the three boys who manage to escape, thinking that he is a member of the church. As a result, Keenan is given the order to storm the barricaded church and kill everyone inside, thereby covering up the ATF's mistake. Shots are fired, another boy dies, several church members are killed, and one of the young women in the church tries to make a deal with the ATF to spare the children. This is interrupted by loud trumpet blasts that echo throughout the area. The church members cheer because they realize that the RAPTURE has started! And then, in one of the most severe cases of cinematic whiplash in history, we are transported to a court martial session where Keenan explains that the rest of the church members were captured and that the rapture wasn't real, just some marijuana farmers blasting trumpets over loud-speakers in an attempt to mess with the church! I...don't know what to make of this film. It makes no sense, has some of the worst cinematography and editing that I've ever seen, it can't stick to a single storyline...yet it is one of the most compelling and engaging films that Kevin Smith has ever made. See it for yourself and decide on your own opinion concerning this film...I'm still not sure if I've made up my own!

6/10

I Was Nineteen: Konrad Wolf

Many people tend to not realize that East Germany had an extremely vigorous and fascinating film industry during its years as a Soviet satellite. Of all of its film-makers and directors, perhaps few were as skilled, valued, and admired than Konrad Wolf. One of his greatest films was I Was Nineteen, a film that recounts his experiences as a soldier in World War Two. However, instead of fighting for Germany, both Konrad and Gregor Hecker, the film's protagonist, fought for the Soviets in the Red Army. Their families had fled the Nazi Party by moving to Moscow. As a result, both Konrad and Gregor are stuck in a strange limbo: ethnically German but culturally Russian. The film watches as Gregor invades Germany and is promoted to lieutenant. We watch as he sets up an outpost in a newly conquered German town, negotiates the surrender of a Nazi-held fortress, and fights back against a German counter-attack. There are several poignant moments where Gregor's identity is called into question. One of the most powerful is when he encounters a blinded German soldier on a bridge who treats him like a comrade, not knowing that he was part of a Red Army patrol. Some may view this film as an episodic war feature, much like Samuel Fuller's The Big Red One. But it is much more. It is an examination of identity and culture marred by war.

8/10

White Zombie: Victor Halperin

I suppose that I should be more generous to White Zombie, the first feature length zombie film. After all, without it, films like Night of the Living Dead and all of its descendants wouldn't be possible. But this film is such a tremendous bore that I can't help but dismiss it. The plot follows an engaged couple who travel to Haiti to be married. Once there, they cross paths with Charles Beaumont, a local wealthy plantation owner. He falls madly in love with the girl and convinces Murder Legendre, a local voodoo practitioner, to transform her into a zombie so he can be with her. This raises the question as to WHY he would want her to be a zombie in the first place...but oh well...The plot is cookie-cutter and not even Bela Lugosi as Legendre can save this tired piece of schlock.

4/10

[March 28, 2016 Reassessment]

I now think I appreciate the film more: it's a beautiful, atmospheric gem with a few splashes of expressionism. However the plot is pretty preposterous, particularly how the lovers seem to communicate telepathically in the third act. It's gorgeous, but still pretty clunky.

6/10

The Hills Have Eyes: Wes Craven

Wes Craven is one of the messiahs of the horror genre to multitudes of wannabe film-makers and directors. He got his start making horror films with barely enough money to make a down payment on a house. And, much like John Carpenter, George A. Romero, and Sam Raimi, his persistence and ingenuity led to the creation of some of the most successful horror franchises in history. Before he redefined the slasher genre with A Nightmare on Elm Street and Scream, he directed a little film entitled The Hills Have Eyes. It follows a family who get stranded during a family vacation in the desert and get assaulted by a "family" of deformed cannibals. It's a grimy, dirty film, much like the masterful The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. We watch in horror and disgust as the cannibals attack, rape, and eat the family. Eventually, the family manages to fight back. The film showcases several gross, graphic, and over-the-top moments of carnage and gore, including a particularly nasty scene involving the mutilation of a cannibal's ankle. The film isn't perfect...or deliberately flawed enough to endear itself like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. But it definitely marks a noticed increase in quality over Craven's first film, The Last House on the Left.

6/10

The Comedy of Terrors: Jacques Tourneur

What happens when you take Jacques Tourneur, legendary director of Cat People and Out of the Past, Vincent Price, Peter Lorre, Boris Karloff, and Basil Rathbone, put them in a blender, and hit puree? You get the delightful 1964 film The Comedy of Terrors. A film that mixes horror and comedy together with wild abandon, The Comedy of Terrors feels like a screwball comedy à la Howard Hawks or Frank Capra straight from Transylvania. It centers on Price and Lorre who run an undertaking business in late 19th century New England. The motley duo concoct a brilliant solution to a recent drought of deaths: create their own business by killing wealthy locals. Of course, this is easier said than done. They try and kill Mr. Black, their landlord. However, they are unaware that he suffers from chronic bouts of "death-like sleep." So, much to their dismay, they have a "corpse" who has the bad manners of routinely waking up during his funeral and burial. This film is a blessing for horror fans. Rarely has such an all-star cast of horror icons been assembled on screen. Seeing these stars play off each other is a delightful treat.

8/10

Buck: Cindy Meehl

Buck Brannaman isn't a man of few words, but the ones he uses are carefully weighed and deliberate. He speaks with no pretense and no illusions of grandeur. He is a simple man who lives a simple life. He is a real life horse whisperer. In the new documentary by Cindy Meehl entitled Buck, we learn that he spends 40 weeks of the year on the road doing horse clinics where he teaches a revolutionary kind of horse training referred to as "natural horsemanship." Whereas for thousands of years man has broken and tamed horses with the lash and force, natural horsemanship does it with body language and respect. The goal of this technique is to create a bond with the horse by appealing to its natural instincts. To see Buck at work is akin to watching a master craftsman. I'd liken it to a magician, but there is no illusion, smoke, or mirrors to Buck's technique...just respect, firm yet fair authority, and dignity. But this documentary is just as much about the man as his methods. Buck was a child performer at rodeos and variety shows where he would do rope tricks with his brother. However, fame came at the cost of severe, constant physical abuse from their father. After years of beatings, they were rescued by their school's football coach upon discovering their scars and placed in a foster home. It is speculated that Buck's ability to work with horses is greatly derived from his first-hand knowledge of fear, physical abuse, and dominance. To see Buck is to witness a story of the triumph of the human spirit and a touching look into the bonds that we share with other creatures.

7/10

The Tin Drum: Volker Schlöndorff

I write this review after having watched Volker Schlöndorff's The Tin Drum a second time. The first time that I watched this film was about two years ago. It was one of the first German films that I had ever seen and it made quite an impression on me. Now, in 2011, having had much more experience with not only German film, but European cinema in general, I feel that I am more capable of giving an informed opinion on this film. The Tin Drum is based off a novel of the same name by Günter Grass. It follows Oskar, a young boy living in the free city of Danzig around 1925. The film follows not only his life, but the turmoils of German history up to the end of World War Two and the Soviet invasion of Germany. The film is a fascinating oddity. Oskar, at the age of three, decides to stop growing because he is disgusted with humanity. So he throws himself down a flight of stairs, almost killing himself. This causes him to literally stay the same age for the next two decades. He soon discovers that he has a piercing shriek that can literally destroy any glass in a nearby radius. As he surveys the march of history and the rise of the Nazi Party, he becomes attached to a toy drum that he continues to beat all day long. As he gets older (while staying the same size) he leaves his home, joins a circus of midgets, becomes a Nazi celebrity, returns home, and watches most of his family get killed, raped, or tortured. I guess that the point of the film is that Oskar represents Germany and his refusal to grow represents the nation's refusal to mature after World War One. Some also say that Oskar represents a force of rebellion against Nazism and that he should be praised for this. But here is where my opinion begins to diverge. The first time that I saw the film, I considered Oskar a hero. The second time, I found him to be a spoiled brat who deserved to be savagely beaten. Also, upon a second viewing, I found that much of the symbolism was muddled and deliberately opaque. I had seen this film in the context of a German Cinema college class. So I asked my professor why the symbolism was so confusing. She responded that that was the point: it was supposed to be confusing. In my opinion, that isn't good enough. Roger Ebert once said that if you have to ask what something symbolizes, then it isn't actually a symbol. As a result, I can't help but view The Tin Drum as a lazy vehicle for half-baked metaphors. The fact that this tied Francis Ford Coppola's Apocalypse Now, easily one of the GREATEST FILMS EVER MADE, for the Palme d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival, infuriates me. Don't get me wrong, The Tin Drum, despite my criticisms, is still one of the greatest German films of all time. But does it deserve to share the Palme with a film like Apocalypse Now? No. It's funny what a second viewing and two years worth of experience can do to somebody's opinion of a film, huh?

Score From Two Years Ago: 10/10
Revised Score: 8/10

The Young Girls of Rochefort: Jacques Demy

There's a scene in Jacques Demy's The Young Girls of Rochefort where Gene Kelly suddenly appears with his trademark smile and begins a delightful song and dance routine about his travels around the world and his love for France. And then his number ends all too quickly and we are left with this hollow, vapid excuse for a musical film. I suppose that Demy intended for this to be an ode to classic Hollywood musicals (why else would he cast Gene Kelly). But the entire production enters an uncanny valley of plastic music and dance. It's a film about a beautiful pair of French twins who dance around and fall in love with visiting sailors. Their mother owns a local restaurant and dreams of lovers lost. It's all so saccharine that my teeth began to hurt. The music is charming...at first. But eventually it all smushes together into what feels like one prolonged musical number that never, EVER ends. The highly saturated color photography makes everything seem like a Barbie playhouse. And really, that's the best metaphor or this film: an illusionary dollhouse.

5/10

Silent Running: Douglas Trumbull

I dearly love Douglad Trumbull. Whether he's taking us beyond the solar system in 2001: A Space Odyssey, creating a cyber-junk future in Blade Runner, or creating the very beginning of the universe in The Tree of Life, there are few special effects wizards who can truly transcend the limitations of the silver screen. So when I heard that he had directed a film, a science fiction film in outer space, no less, I had to see it. That film is Silent Running. In the future, mankind has apparently created a utopia on earth where everyone is "happy" and has a job. The only problem is that they apparently destroyed all plant life on earth in the process. All that remains of the vegetation that once cloaked the planet are six "greenhouse-like geodesic domes" on a spaceship outside the orbit of Saturn. They are tended by four men. Three of them are destructive, careless men. The fourth, played by Bruce Dern, dearly loves the plant and animal life. So when they are ordered to destroy the six domes, he rebels, kills the other three men, and runs off with the last two forests (he was unable to save the first four from destruction). Accompanied by only three ship service robots, he lives in quiet solitude. At least, he does until he is discovered by forces on earth who intend to take the spaceship by force and destroy the last forests. This is a phenomenal film. It plays off the idea of truly being alone and isolated in space. The only problem is that it is difficult to root for Bruce Dern. He comes off as a madman instead of someone pushed to the limits by his love for nature. It's difficult to see this film as anything other than a blatant piece of environmental propaganda. But if you can look beyond such things, you'll find a truly remarkable film.

8/10

Before the Revolution: Bernardo Bertolucci

Peter Bradshaw of the Guardian writes of Before the Revolution: "Bernardo Bertolucci's brilliant early film about political and emotional tensions in mid-60s Italy is still just as powerful as when it was first released." I want to officially call bullsh!t. Before the Revolution is a tired, convoluted, confusing piece of faux-French New Wave film making. It's the kind of movie that claims to have a plot, but seems to take every opportunity to ignore it so its characters can go off on desperate existential, or in the case of this film, Communist, tirades. This film is supposedly about a disillusioned young Communist who starts an affair with his aunt after his best friend may or may not have committed suicide by drowning himself. After his aunt cheats on him (at least I think that's what happened) he abandons his Communist beliefs and marries a bourgeois rich girl. This movie has its head so far up its own duodenum that it starts to digest itself. It makes no attempt towards narrative cohesion. Instead, it would rather watch pretty people stare blankly at nothing for several minutes before making an off-hand remark about Howard Hawk's Red River. Hey, Bertolucci, you need to remember one of the most important rules of film making: never mention a film better than your own inside your movie. Then again, he could have named just about ANY film and he still would have broken that rule.

3/10

Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans: F. W. Murnau

F.W. Murnau's Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans has been called one of the most influential and important silent films ever made. That's quite a claim, especially considering that Murnau was the director behind such legendary classics as Nosferatu and The Last Laugh. So...is it worth such accolades? Sure, I guess. It's impossible to overlook its incredible technical innovations: the use of exaggerated, almost Expressionist sets, the magnificent cinematography (including an astonishing four minute tracking shot that must have been a herculean task with equipment from 1927), and Murnau's subtle use of camera tricks such as double exposure and forced perspective. But how does the story hold up? The opening title cards say that though the film is set around 1900, it is a universal story that could happen at any time in any place. I guess that holds true. It features a married couple, appropriately named the Man and the Wife, who experience hardships when a Woman from the City comes between them. The Woman from the City tries to seduce the Man and convince him to drown the Wife. At the last moment, the Man cannot do it. Apparently wooed by his decision to NOT kill her, the Woman accepts her husband back. They go cavorting through the city and an amusement park. When they go home, a storm hits, the Wife disappears, the Man despairs, and the whole town bands together and rescues her. It's a simple story, true, but it somehow feels antiquated. Instead of creating a film that appeals to a universal and timeless audience, it feels very much like the product of its time. And since that time has decayed into the past, the film feels quaint and overly dramatic. But still, Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans is an essential piece of cinema history that every film buff and film maker should experience at least once.

7/10

Farewell My Concubine: Chen Kaige

I'm not sure if it's fair to say that I watched Chen Kaige's Farewell My Concubine. Most of the time while "watching" it I was too busy clamoring at the sheer beauty of the cinematography and the ingenious use of camera angles and shot composition. Farewell My Concubine can be considered as a crash course in the methods of mise en scène and formalistic film-making. Every shot serves a magnificent purpose and has a Kubrickian sense of perfectionism. Of course, any film student will tell you that such things are merely tools for the telling of a story. And what a story Farewell My Concubine has to tell. It tells the tale of two Beijing Opera performers who become close friends at childhood. One of them, Douzi, grows up to be a homosexual and falls in love with the other, Shitou. Shitou spurns his advances and marries a prostitute named Juxian. All of this leads to a powerful love triangle that is destined for tragedy. Most people claim that Farewell My Concubine is two stories in one: Douzi and Shitou's friendship framed against the political and cultural upheaval of China in the early 20th century. They weather such storms as the Japanese Occupation during World War Two, the Kuomintang regime, the People's Liberation Army entering their city in 1949, and the Cultural Revolution. The film could be about these historical events alone and it would remain a powerful piece of art. But they are used to frame the turmoil and hardships faced by the central characters. But I would claim that there is a third story in Farewell My Concubine: that of China itself. The Beijing Opera is repeatedly lauded as an ancient and beloved piece of Chinese culture. Throughout the film it is beaten, bruised, and assaulted by outside forces. But still it survives...much like China during the 20th century. In summation, this is a film about three central struggles: 1) the relationships between the characters, 2) political battles and transformations, 3) the survival of China itself. Farewell My Concubine is a dazzling film to behold and a true treasure of Chinese cinema.

10/10

Let Sleeping Corpses Lie: Jorge Grau

Here's an interesting little anachronism of a film: an Italian-produced zombie film directed by a Spaniard set in England. It has one of my favorite explanations for the reanimation of dead bodies into zombies: the Department of Agriculture has created a device which kills bugs with "ultra-sonics." The idea is to use it to kill pests so that crops won't be adversely affected. But wouldn't you know that it has the unfortunate side effect of bringing people back to life? The rest of the film follows traditional zombie film tropes: a small group of people are attacked by the living dead, discover what's causing it, and are killed by ignorant/stupid people before they can warn the world at large. In this case, the main opponent to the survivors isn't the undead, but a local sheriff who seems to go out of his way to persecute them as much as possible. This is pretty standard stuff. You've got your unstoppable zombies, a few decent decapitation deaths, and a creepy atmosphere. Par for the course, really.

6/10

The Sentinel: Michael Winner

I was really tempted to give The Sentinel a lower score than what I eventually settled on. After all, it's a horribly cliched film. It's like a bastard hybrid of The Exorcist and Rosemary's Baby. A famous fashion model moves into a Brooklyn apartment only to eventually discover that it's a gateway to hell. All of the residents of the apartment are reincarnated demons...all expect for a blind priest who lives on the top floor. The blind priest serves as a buffer, or "sentinel," against the forces of darkness. However, the current sentinel is about to die. So, the Catholic Church decides that this random fashion model would be the perfect choice for a new sentinel. Why they choose her instead of one of literally a billion other Catholics is never really explained. The only reasoning that we're really given is that she can use her newfound duties to atone for her trying to commit suicide twice. I dunno, this film was really uninspired, despite its phenomenal cast including Ava Gardner, Burgess Meredith, Eli Wallach, Christopher Walken, Jerry Orbach, and Jeff Goldblum. The entire thing felt old and recycled. So why didn't I give it a lower score? Because while it didn't do anything new or interesting, it didn't do anything...badly. It isn't good, it isn't bad...it just kinda...exists...

5/10

The Big Parade: King Vidor

It was the highest grossing silent film of all time (before inflation) bringing in $18-$22 million. It was a ground-breaking film that would go on to inspire other great masterpieces of All Quiet on the Western Front. It was one of the first films to to not glorify war and instead try and show its true face. It was the legendary film The Big Parade. This classic by King Vidor is certainly an essential piece of cinema history. But I don't feel that it holds up by today's standards. In fact, I even hesitate to call it a war film. Really, it's a melodrama. James "Jim" Apperson is a spoiled wealthy playboy who enlists in the army when America enters World War One when his friends pressure him. Once deployed in France, he meets a farm girl named Melisande and falls in love with her. Then, of course, he is called off to war. He gets trapped in No Man's Land, loses a foot, and miraculously survives and is reunited with Melisande. For all of the praise that the film is given for its depiction of warfare, it doesn't seem too concerned with an anti-war message. The war and carnage of the battlefield serves to heighten the stakes in Jim's torrid affair. There is a touching moment where he gives a cigarette to a dying enemy German while stuck in a shell hole, but it isn't dwelt upon. This film is about Jim. As a result, its "anti-war" message feels artificial. This movie is about tears and kisses, not blood and gun shots.

7/10

The Turin Horse: Béla Tarr

Through a miraculous chance of fate, I managed to see Béla Tarr's final film The Turin Horse with my friend Christopher Minz at the New York City Film Festival. It was a magnificent film and a movie-going experience that I will cherish for the rest of my life (due in no small part to the fact that I got to meet and shake hands with Béla Tarr himself after the screening). The film opens with the following piece of narration:

"In Turin on 3rd January, 1889, Friedrich Nietzsche steps out of the doorway of number six, Via Carlo Albert. Not far from him, the driver of a hansom cab is having trouble with a stubborn horse. Despite all his urging, the horse refuses to move, whereupon the driver loses his patience and takes his whip to it. Nietzsche comes up to the throng and puts an end to the brutal scene, throwing his arms around the horse’s neck, sobbing. His landlord takes him home, he lies motionless and silent for two days on a divan until he mutters the obligatory last words, and lives for another ten years, silent and demented, cared for by his mother and sisters. We do not know what happened to the horse.”

The film follows the next six days in the life of the horse, its owner, and the owner's daughter. It is a meticulous reconstruction of their day-to-day routine: getting dressed, drinking two shots of liquor to help wake up, getting water from the well, eating potatoes bare-handed in the evening, undressing, going to sleep. Six times we see these actions carried out...or at least variations of them. As the days go by, it becomes increasingly obvious that something is wrong with the world. The insects in the walls disappear. A strange neighbor shows up unannounced and spouts off a bizarre Nietzsche-esque soliloquy that is equal parts koan and doom prophesy. A band of Gypsys arrive and give the daughter an "anti-bible." The well dries up. The horse stops eating. The lights outside during the day disappears. Lamps brimming with oil refuse to light. Finally, the family gives in to the blackness, the despair, the end. What is Béla Tarr trying to say with this film? When asked this question during a Q&A following the screening, he pointed to the now empty screen and answered, "It's all there." As I said, Béla Tarr announced that this was most likely going to be his last film. Again, a member of the audience asked why. My friend Christopher Minz summarized his answer the best:

"When asked why he was retiring, he said that it was because he had said what he needed to say and wants to never repeat himself, and he feels that by retiring now he is saving his body of work, even from himself."

So in the end, The Turin Horse closes and completes the body of work of one of the world's greatest living directors. On behalf of myself, of Chris, of New York City, and of every film lover who is, was, and will be...thank you Mr. Tarr. Thank you.

8/10

Death Race 2000: Paul Bartel

I think it might be physically impossible for someone to dislike Paul Bartel's Death Race 2000. Yes, I know that Roger Ebert gave the film an abysmal review...but I don't care. Death Race 2000 is one of the most over-the-top and delightful pulp films ever made. It takes place in, when else, the year 2000. The United States has become a fascist police state controlled by the media and a corrupt government. They placate the masses with gladiatorial spectacles of combat including an Annual Transcontinental Road Race where crazed drivers race from coast to coast while scoring points by hitting and killing pedestrians. It stars David Carradine and Sylvester Stallone as rival drivers and...man...I can't give more of this film away without spoiling it. Just go out and watch it already! It features ridiculous gore, rabid political humor, and an infectious sense of happy-go-lucky insanity. Forget Roger Ebert. This film is a blast and you owe it to yourself to see it.

8/10

Up Tight!: Jules Dassin

Few directors were as versatile and adaptable as the legendary Jules Dassin. A Jewish American by birth, a Greek in spirit, he spent most of his time in France doing crime and heist films that would influence countless directors and film-makers. Over his career, he would inundate himself with different world cultures. He began his life making taut film noir such as Brute Force, The Naked City, and Thieves’ Highway. Blacklisted in the late Forties from working in Hollywood, he moved to Europe where he continued his incredible career. His most famous film, Rififi, is considered to be one of the most important and influential heist films of all time. But success and critical fame did little to secure Dassin’s career. He would become a kind of wandering journeyman, taking work wherever he could find it. He made the Italian film The Law with stars Gina Lollobrigida and Yves Montand. He directed several Greek films such as Never on Sunday, The Rehearsal, and A Dream of Passion. He even helmed a documentary on the Israeli Six-Day War entitled Hamilchama al Hashalom. But after his banishment from Hollywood, Dassin did manage to return to his homeland and direct one last film on his native soil. That film would be the sensational and devastating Up Tight!

Up Tight! is a remake of The Informer, a film that won four Academy Awards including John Ford’s first for Best Director. But John Ford’s film was set against the Irish War of Independence in 1922 in Dublin, Ireland. Dassin chose to transplant his version of the film into Cleveland, Ohio. The time? The Civil Rights Movement. Martin Luther King Jr. has just been assassinated in Memphis, Tennessee. A thousand televisions in a thousand bars, shacks, and houses in the Cleveland ghetto watch his funeral. Most see this as a moment of great tragedy befitting a time for mourning and reflection. But some see this as an inevitable call to action. In a lonely warehouse, a group of black radicals led by Johnny Wells steal crates of guns and ammunition. A white guard is killed in the robbery, but it doesn’t matter. It was for the cause. So what if Johnny has to go into hiding from the law? The revolution has teeth now.

There’s only one problem: Tank Williams. Tank was one of Johnny’s best friends. He planned the whole gun robbery. However, the news of King’s assassination sent him into a drunken stupor. Feeling betrayed by Tank, Johnny and his associates ban him from their revolutionary movement. Horrified at being abandoned by the only friends he had, he stumbles to his girlfriend’s house only to find her courting her welfare officer. Enraged, he fights him off, spurring the officer to swear that he’ll cut off his girlfriend’s welfare. His girlfriend shrieks at him that he’s ruined not only her life, but the lives of their illegitimate children. And so Tank finds himself alone, drunk, and hated.

But he sees a way out. The police have started a massive man-hunt for Johnny. There is an offer for a massive cash reward for information leading to Johnny’s arrest.

Embittered by Johnny’s actions and desperate to win back his girlfriend, he betrays his location. The cops storm his hiding place and engage in a deadly shootout. By the end of the gunfight, Johnny lies dead. And what does Tank do with the reward money? He goes to a bar and gets drunker than he had even been before in his life. People start getting suspicious that Tank suddenly has so much money right after Johnny’s death. It doesn’t take long for the Black Power group that Johnny was a part of to put two and two together. And so the revolutionaries descend upon Tank with a fury. Tank must make the ultimate decision: escape town, or submit to his fate. What is a brotha to do?

The brilliance of Jules Dassin’s direction is that nobody is portrayed as a hero. Everyone is a responsible for villainous or reprehensible behavior. The Black Power movement kills a guard in a robbery, sees the death of one of the world’s greatest activists for peace as a call for armed resistance, and views white people with hatred. In one particularly callous scene, a white friend of one of the movement’s leaders begs to join them because he truly believes in equal rights. He recounts how they went to sit-ins together, survived Vietnam together, and marched together. But he is thrown out because of his skin. They become guilty of the exact same racism that they fight against. Tank is depicted as a drunken coward. Yes, he is abandoned by his friends and loved ones. But his bad fortune is brought about by his own actions. In a sense, Tank is the descendant of the classic noir hero: unable to escape his past and his own faults.

But the real reason behind Up Tight!’s greatness is its cynicism. It offers no answers concerning how racial intolerance and strife in America can be solved. It only watches as the people sworn to end such conflict destroy themselves. Dassin seems to be using the film as an allegory for how black society is in many ways its own worst enemy. Examining his catalog of films, especially his film noir, this doesn’t seem too unusual for Dassin. Brute Force is about an underground society of prisoners who band together to escape from their prison. The plot is foiled when one of the prisoners breaks the oath of silence and squeals. In Rififi, a gang of robbers are captured by the police after one of their number breaks the rules of a heist by stealing a diamond ring for his mistress. And finally, here in Up Tight! all of the horror and bloodshed could have been spared if Tank hadn’t gotten drunk at the start of the film and failed to participate in the doomed robbery. In all of these films, Dassin seems to be making the point that a group’s destruction can be more easily assured by internal causes than external. It’s not the cops or authorities that you have to worry about...it’s the guy sitting next to you.

So who killed Johnny? Was it Tank for being irresponsible? Was it the Black Power Movement for abandoning Tank? Or was it Johnny’s own fault for killing the white guard during the robbery. Dassin seems to be trying to make a single point in Up Tight!: it sure as hell wasn’t whitey.

Copied from my Forgotten Classics review at http://forgottenclassicsofyesteryear.blogspot.com/2011/10/up-tight.html

8/10