Terror from the Year 5000: Robert J. Gurney Jr.

Why is it that in B-movies scientists almost never report miraculous discoveries or advances to the rest of the world?  I can't count the number of movies I've seen where a scientist manages to make contact with alien civilizations, invent world destroying robots, or engineer biological monstrosities without bothering to tell anyone else. It would seem to me that when their experiments inevitably go awry and start killing everybody, a little backup from the military or the police would be greatly appreciated. But, no, they almost never do. Robert J. Gurney Jr's Terror from the Year 5000 is such a film. Two scientists, Professor Howard Erling and his assistant Victor, manage to invent a time machine in their tiny laboratory. At first they manage to grab strange artifacts from the year 5200 AD. But then they are able to transport a woman from that futuristic era to their own.  Of course, she begins to attack and kidnap people all in an attempt to bring "healthy males" back to the future with her.  It is revealed that in the year 5200 mankind has nearly destroyed itself with radiation, thereby grotesquely deforming the survivors. And still, the scientists don't tell anybody. Terror from the Year 5000 is a clunky, obscenely padded, and boring film. The make-up effects are ridiculous to the point of hilarity. I have heard that this was one of the very first American feature-length films to contain time travel.  It's a pity that such a well-loved sci-fi trope had to begin so pathetically.

4/10

The Thing That Couldn’t Die: Will Cowan

If you plan on making a horror film centered on a single special effect, it stands to reason that effect should be convincing and effective.  Apparently director Will Cowan never got that particular memo.  His film The Thing That Couldn't Die focuses on a spectacularly silly effect: hiding an actor's body so that only his head is revealed, thereby creating the "illusion" that he is a living severed head.  It isn't hard to notice that every single time the head shows up it is sitting comfortably on top of something that could easily conceal the rest of the actor's body. But even a bad special effect can be salvaged by a good plot and a competent screenplay. Unfortunately, The Thing That Couldn't Die has neither.  It follows a family that discovers a mysterious chest in the middle of a field only to discover that it contains the severed head of Gideon Drew, a sorcerer executed 400 years earlier.  He was doomed to be eternally separated from his body which was buried elsewhere.  As a result, he cannot truly die. If his body and head are rejoined, he will be able to return to his full power.  As just a head, he manages to possess different members of the family to do his bidding.  The problem is that almost none of the characters are likable. The only character that we feel any sympathy for is Jessica Burns, the young woman who discovered the chest when she was dowsing for water. She has psychic powers which alert her to the head's evil. But even she quickly wears on our patience. The Thing That Couldn't Die is just a boring film.

4/10

The Deadly Mantis: Nathan Juran

As I mentioned in my review of The Mole People (1956), The Deadly Mantis is one of those cheap 50s sci-fi B-movies that tries to validate its preposterous plot by giving the audience science lectures at the beginning.  Where as The Mole People gave a lesson on hollow earth theories, The Deadly Mantis strangely begins by explaining the United States' northern radar defense system.  I can't for the life of me guess why it does so. This is a film about a giant praying mantis that eats people. Why did the director feel that it was necessary to discuss US defense logistics?  Oh well.  Anyhow, the eponymous giant mantis was released by a volcanic eruption from its icy prison in the North Pole. Some feeble explanations are given for how a mantis could have grown so large even in prehistoric times, but they are all patently nonsense. Of course there is the generic cast of scientists, soldiers, and reporters which miraculously manage to take down the giant creature after the combined might of the US military fails.  The few creature effects are cheap, poorly done, and unconvincing. I'll admit that as far as bugs go, a praying mantis is one of the scariest candidates for horror movie enlargement.  But The Deadly Mantis fails to deliver. Preposterously, the actual mantis has almost no screen time. When I go to a giant monster movie, I want to see a giant monster, dammit!  I don't want to see a bunch of insipid humans staring at radar screens for 80 minutes!

4/10

The Time to Live and the Time to Die: Hou Hsiao-Hsien

I'll admit that I wasn't initially very intrigued by Hou Hsiao-Hsien's The Time to Live and the Time to Die.  I had only ever seen one of his other films, Daughter of the Nile (1987), which had bored me to the point of tears.  But I felt like giving the Taiwanese director another shot.  Much to my surprise, I found The Time to Live and the Time to Die to be a breathtakingly heartfelt and powerful piece of filmmaking.  Based on the director's own childhood, the film examines a young boy's coming of age after moving with his family from the Mainland to Taiwan.  The boy, nicknamed Ah-ha, tries to acclimate himself to his new country. But his family remains firmly entrenched in their old ways. So Ah-ha finds himself stuck between two cultures.  The film floats between different vignettes in Ah-ha's life.  One of the most powerful scenes occurs one night when the neighborhood's power goes out.  The family struggles in the darkness for a while until the power comes on again. Much to their horror, during the blackout, Ah-ha's father had suddenly died.  This is one of two very important deaths that take place in The Time to Live and the Time to Die.  The other, near the end, concerns Ah-ha's elderly grandmother who dreamed in vain for years of returning to the Mainland. But that's a scene best left to one's own discovery. Hou Hsiao-Hsien perfectly channels the Japanese aesthetic of mono no aware, or the awareness of life's impermanence. Unlike many other coming of age stories, this film seems less concerned with its central character than with the passage of time itself.  After watching it, I felt spiritually fulfilled.  This is not so much a film as a cinematic meditation.

9/10

The Mole People: Virgil W. Vogel

I've begun to notice an amusing trend among some cheap B-movies from the 50s.  Occasionally these low-budget creature features will try and convince the audience of its story's credibility by giving science lectures insisting that there is some modicum of truth to them.  My all-time favorite example is from Nathan Juran's The Deadly Mantis (1957), a film about a giant praying mantis which bizarrely begins with a mini-documentary about the function and construction of the United States' radar defenses in Canada.  But Virgil W. Vogel's The Mole People also tries to justify its story through "science."  The film starts with a literal science lecture by Dr. Frank Baxter, a real-life English professor from the University of Southern California, who explains various hollow earth theories by John Symmes and Cyrus Teed.  Of course, the audience desperately needs this information since the ensuing film is about underground Sumerian albinos and their slave race of humanoid mole men.  Anyhow, The Mole People is a deliriously preposterous film about two archaeologists, Dr. Roger Bentley and Dr. Jud Bellamin, who discover this underground world during an expedition. They are immediately mistaken as Messengers of Ishtar due to their flashlights.  So, for a time, the scientists enjoy a regal life. But then one of their number is killed by one of the mole people. So the scientists must escape from the subterranean civilization before they are sacrificed to the ominously titled "Eye of Ishtar." And, of course, this being a 50s B-movie, they must also escape with Adad, a beautiful woman from the caves born with natural Caucasian skin.  The Mole People is a ridiculously absurd film.  Perhaps it would have been more enjoyable if the movie didn't try so hard to convince us that the idea of an underground race of ancient Sumerians was scientifically possible.  Still, it does have the occasional enjoyable moment. I love the actual design of the mole people and the way they seem to swim in and out of the very ground itself.  But other than that, The Mole People is just a silly, silly movie.

5/10

Act of Violence: Fred Zinnemann

People use the term film noir too casually these days.  It seems that all a film needs to be declared a neo-noir is heavy shadows, brooding voice-overs, and certain character archetypes.  But film noir isn't really a style. Oh, most of the great film noir are heavily stylized. But true film noir is a state of mind, a psychological underpinning, and a weary, cynical view towards the world.  That is why Act of Violence, a film without any private eyes or voice-overs, truly deserves to be labeled as a film noir.  It dives into one of the most powerful psychological injuries ever inflicted on America: World War Two.  At its center are two men.  The first is Frank Enley, a returning war hero who survived a year as a prisoner of war under the Nazis. He has since spent his time as a loving family man diligently working to improve the California community of Santa Lisa where he lives with his wife Edith and young child.  The other man is Joe Parkson. Joe was Frank's best friend while in the army. Well...they were friends, at least until Frank became an informer for the Nazis, betrayed an attempted prison escape, and watched as several soldiers under his command were savagely killed by attack dogs.  It doesn't help that Joe was the only soldier who survived the escape. Now Joe hunts Frank across California seeking vengeance for his treachery.  The film is comprised largely as a game of cat-and-mouse and Frank tries to avoid Joe.  But eventually Frank makes the poor decision of trying to hire a hitman to take care of Joe once and for all. But Frank's guilt catches up with him.  So the hunted becomes the hunter, desperately trying to find Joe to prevent him from getting killed.  This is a fabulous film.  Watch how three time Academy Award winning cinematographer Robert L. Surtees transforms the bright, sunny suburbs of California into nightmarish city slums and back alleys reflecting Frank's inner psyche. This is a haunting, powerful film that deserves the title of film noir much more than many other films that have been given that label.

9/10

The Leech Woman: Edward Dein

Somewhere buried deep inside Edward Dein's The Leech Woman there is the kernel of a good idea.  A foolhardy scientist named Dr. Paul Talbot is approached by an old woman who claims that she has the secret to eternal youth and beauty.  She explains that the combination of a particular orchid pollen native to her old home in Africa mixed with a mysterious substance reverses the aging process.  So Dr. Talbot and his alcoholic wife June travel to Africa and discover that the secret ingredient is pineal gland secretions. The problem is that the secretions are harvested with the use of a ring which is plunged into a victim's pineal gland, killing them almost instantly.  When June is de-aged during a savage ceremony, she goes insane and steals the pollen and pineal ring.  Once back in America, she goes on a killing spree to gather the precious pineal secretions needed to maintain her youth.  As I said, there's a good idea to be found in this film: a woman who kills to maintain her beauty. This could have easily been a taut, supernatural thriller where the police have to track down a serial killer who stabs her victims to death. But as it stands The Leech Woman is just a sub-par horror flick.  To be fair, Coleen Gray's performance as June is pretty damn convincing. But everything else about The Leech Woman, from its rampant use of stock footage to its mediocre make-up effects, is just so-so.

5/10

Creature from the Black Lagoon 2: Revenge of the Creature: Jack Arnold

Almost a year ago I reviewed Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954) after watching it for the first time.  I found that the film, while certainly competent and entertaining, was average when compared to other famous creature features like Dracula (1931), Frankenstein (1931), and The Invisible Man (1933).  Its sequel, Revenge of the Creature, saw the return of Gill-Man and director Jack Arnold. Having somehow survived the end of the first film, Gill-Man is captured and transported from his home in the Amazon to the Ocean Harbor Oceanarium in Florida. Once stateside, Gill-Man is studied by animal psychologist Professor Clete Ferguson and ichthyology student Helen Dobson. Of course Clete and Helen fall in love and of course at some point she is threatened by Gill-Man.  But when those two aren't hogging the screen, the scenes with Gill-Man are surprisingly engaging. I particularly liked an early scene at the Ocean Harbor Oceanarium where Gill-Man is revived in a large pool surrounded by tourists.  The sheer hubris on display by the humans is stunning. If the scenes with just Clete and Helen were edited out Revenge of the Creature could have been a fascinating tale of the futility of man's attempt to control and profit from nature à la King Kong (1933).  Another great sequence involves the scientists attempts to teach Gill-Man human words via cruel negative reinforcement. But the film spends too much time on the ancillary human characters. At least in Creature from the Black Lagoon scenes without Gill-Man were aided by the mysterious and other-worldly atmosphere of the Amazon jungle. The sunny beaches of Florida are simply not as compelling as the rainforest.  But still, it is fascinating to watch how Revenge of the Creature manages to make the humans seem like the villains and not the prehistoric monster.

6/10

Laserblast: Michael Rae

Years from now, I'll probably only remember two things about Laserblast: a gas station that blows up 4-5 times in a row and stop-motion naked turtle aliens.  That may sound like obvious things to remember, but consider that the film is supposed to be about a teenager who discovers an alien arm cannon in the desert that transforms him into a psychotic, green-skinned maniac. Somehow, I feel like I should remember that premise more than a couple of special effects. But Laserblast sports such a painfully dull screenplay that even the silliest special effects come as electric jolts to the attention span. The teenager, named Billy Duncan, is such a wooden actor that the stop-motion aliens out-act him. It turns out that Billy is not the first person to be transformed by the arm cannon. In the opening scenes, the aforementioned aliens gun down another human being who went crazy under the arm cannon's influence. And then, for some insane reason, instead of retrieving the weapon of mass destruction, they just fly off after disintegrating the poor man. When they are informed by their leader that Billy has discovered the arm cannon, they seem shocked and immediately fly back to earth to kill him. And then, after stopping Billy, they leave the arm cannon on earth again. These are clearly not the smartest aliens in the universe. But then again this isn't the smartest film in the universe, either. If I've given you the impression that Laserblast is a thrilling, albeit poorly made, sci-fi film, then I apologize.  For a film about aliens and arm cannons there are a ton of pointless and drawn out driving scenes. Much of the film is spent watching the characters drive from scene to scene while listening to music that sounds vaguely like classic rock.  And, believe it or not, it's even less thrilling than it sounds.  Laserblast is a disjointed, nonsensical, and boring mess.

4/10

Comanche Station: Budd Boetticher

Randolph Scott has always been an enigma in the Westerns that he made with Budd Boetticher.  He seems to exist somewhere in between the dashing, white-hatted cowboys of Gene Autry and Roy Rogers and the chiseled, amoral loners of Clint Eastwood and Franco Nero.  John Wayne and James Stewart occasionally occupied similar roles. But for John Wayne, roles like Ethan Edwards in The Searchers (1956) which pushed the boundaries of typical romanticized Western morality were usually ignored or forgotten in the shadow of his image as the embodiment of American machismo and masculinity.  And despite his phenomenal collaborations with Anthony Mann, James Stewart is more remembered as George Bailey than as Howard Kemp.  But Scott was something else when he worked with Boetticher. In those films he would tip his hat to a lady, graciously help people in need, and follow it all up by brutally killing a group of outlaws.  After a while, Scott's smile seems to betray him as a man who knows and follows the rules but secretly laughs at their absurdity.  In one of his best collaborations with Boetticher, Comanche Station, this tendency becomes loudly pronounced. Scott plays Jefferson Cody, a loner who at the start of the film trades with a group of Comanche Indians in order to free Nancy Lowe, a woman they recently kidnapped. Cody had heard that the local Comanche had kidnapped a white woman who might be his missing wife. Much to his disappointment, it isn't. But regardless, Lowe's husband has announced a massive reward for her safe return, so he decides to lead her to safety.  As they return to Lowe's home, they are joined by a group of three outlaws led by the charismatic yet dangerous Ben Lane who also intend to turn her in for the reward. And so begins a long journey full of intrigue and danger as Cody must lead Lowe to safety through hostile Indian territory and protect her from the smiling men who suddenly decide to "accompany" them.  Comanche Station is classic Boetticher and stands as one of his best films in a distinguished, yet horrifically overlooked, career.  And, of course, there's Randolph Scott...that tired old man with an occasionally kind heart and a gun full of bullets.

8/10

Four Men and a Prayer: John Ford

It breaks my heart to give films by John Ford bad reviews. But in the interest of fairness, I have to try and be unbiased, even towards my all-time favorite director.  Four Men and a Prayer begins with quite a bit of promise.  It begins with Colonel Loring Leigh of the British Indian Army being dishonorably discharged and sent home to England after apparently issuing an order that resulted in the deaths of 90 soldiers.  He is met by his four sons who try and comfort him upon his return.  However, shortly after arriving, Colonel Leigh is shot and killed by an unknown assassin.  Believing that their father's assassination may have something to do with his expulsion from the military, the four sons set out across the globe to track down their father's old military comrades.  At first this seems like a great adventure film in the same tradition as Gunga Din (1939) and The Four Feathers (1939).  But it quickly deteriorates and losses track of its central narrative like the splayed end of a rope.  In one particularly bizarre change of pace, one of the sons and his American girlfriend witness a group of peasant revolutionaries brutally massacred by the government's army.  At first they are shocked, but after a few minutes they appear to forget the entire affair and move on.  When the final villain is discovered and confronted, the actors all seem bored and their characters uninterested in the fact that they have found their father's killer.  The best part of the film is near the beginning when each of the sons receives telegrams informing them of their father's dismissal. Ford magnificently introduces each son and establishes their distinct personalities in a matter of minutes. If the entire film had been as tight and focused as these early scenes, then this film might have become a classic.  But as it stands, Four Men and a Prayer is a film best left forgotten.

4/10

Red Zone Cuba: Coleman Francis

Is it weird that Red Zone Cuba reminded me of Budd Boetticher's collaborations with Randolph Scott? Wait, don't answer that. Yes. Yes, it is.  Red Zone Cuba is probably the most infamous film by Coleman Francis, a celebrated auteur of cinematic drivel. His films (all three of them) share certain elements: stoic, emotionally absent middle-aged men, a fondness for communal scenes of coffee-drinking and cigarette-smoking, and the violent deaths of central characters.  Red Zone Cuba is by far Francis' most improbable and ridiculous film. It follows three men who search for a lost treasure in a tungsten mine. Of course, mid-way through their search they decide to fly to Cuba and take part in the 1961 Bay of Pigs Invasion. An invasion which, apparently, only utilized approximately seven American soldiers.  One of the film's prolonged sequences involves the three men as POW's trapped in a Cuban prison who watch as one-by-one the other prisoners are taken outside and executed by a three man firing squad.  Somehow, the three men escape from Cuba and return to the United States where they continue their search for tungsten treasure. And, of course, their little foray into Cuba is never mentioned again.  The film is long, drawn-out, and entirely pointless. Even the film's value as a "good bad" movie is diminished by its glacial pacing, nonsensical story, and robotic acting. But you know, come to think of it, the acting in Red Zone Cuba is exactly what Robert Bresson spent his entire career trying to coax out of his actors.  Wait...on second thought, even Bresson would probably flail his arms and screech for the actors in this film to emote.

As a side note, I just want to point out that I am mesmerized by the film poster provided above.  It's not enough that they had to fill 2/3 of it with a bland photo of three bored actors...they had to add facial profiles FROM THE SAME PICTURE in the lower 1/3.

2/10

The Pillow Book: Peter Greenaway

I almost dread watching Peter Greenaway's work because I've found that I'm quickly running out of ways that I can express my sheer amazement and admiration towards his work.  There are only so many words in the English language and the number that I haven't used in reviews of Greenaway's work is almost completely depleted.  But my curiosity towards his film entitled The Pillow Book finally got the better of me and now I must struggle to find underutilized words.  Greenaway's film is a kind of meta-adaptation of the famous book of observations of the same name by Japanese court lady Sei Shōnagon around 1000 AD.  The film follows a Japanese model named Nagiko who derives sexual pleasure from calligraphers writing on her body.  This fetish arose from a tradition when she was young where on her birthday her father would draw good luck characters on her face and upper back while her mother would read to her from the historical Pillow Book.  When she got older, she sought out famous calligraphers as lovers.  One of these was British translator Jerome (Ewan McGregor) who convinced her to try writing on other people's bodies.  However, through a tragic romantic misunderstanding, Jerome kills himself.  Nagiko, in her grief, decides to write her own Pillow Book based on her own life.  She writes 13 chapters of her Pillow Book on various models in different unusual circumstances before sending them to an evil publisher who blackmailed her father and Jerome for sex.  This is easily my favorite part of the film as it plays as a kind of philosophical answer to David Fincher's Se7en (1995).  For instance, the ninth chapter (The Book of Secrets) is delivered by a nude Buddhist monk with the text written in his "secret" spots, such as between his fingers, on his eyelids, and on the insides of his thighs.  Since Nagiko largely blames the publisher for her father's misery and Jerome's death, she uses the book to extract violent revenge against him.  This is a magnificent film that doesn't just mimic Japanese and calligraphic aesthetics but instead embodies them.  The first and third act of the film are absolutely riveting and transcendent in their execution and Kubrick-esque level of perfectionism. However, the second act which largely charts Nagiko's affair with Jerome is sadly lacking. For this section, the film largely wanders with no clearly defined destination.  Much of it plays like a music video. But the film's other strengths make up for this temporary lull in quality.  There simply isn't anything else quite like The Pillow Book.  To see it is an event.

9/10

The Avengers: Joss Whedon

I think I was naturally predisposed towards being excessively harsh in my evaluation of Joss Whedon's The Avengers for two reasons. First, I come from a film studies environment where many, if not all, of my peers had already condemned the film as trash before even seeing it.  Second, while I love Marvel Comics, I have always been a bigger DC fan. So I admit that I am biased against this film. But despite that, I still thoroughly enjoyed it.  The Avengers was the end result of a truly herculean cinematic effort that stretched four years, six films, and a countless number of writers, directors, actors, and editors. The fact that The Avengers was coherent and focused is a blessing. The fact that it is a great film is a miracle. It seems that Loki is on the loose and is using the power of a mysterious, potentially limitless source of energy called the Tesseract (known to comic book readers as the Cosmic Cube) to summon an alien army known as the Chitauri to conquer Earth. And so, the Avengers are formed with an all-star lineup of the world's mightiest heroes: Iron Man, Captain America, Thor, the Hulk, Hawkeye, and Black Widow.  The film has a ton of plot holes. How did Thor get back to Earth (an unconvincing one-line explanation is given and promptly forgotten)? Who are the council of unknown people who sit in darkly lit rooms and secretly run the world? Did Loki really expect the Chitauri to hand over reign of the Earth after they conquered it? But these plot holes can be ignored due to Whedon's flawless grasp on dialogue and character development. I still don't think Whedon is a very good filmmaker, per say. Many parts of this film felt like a television show with an unusually large budget.  But the action is fluid, not annoying. The film is well-paced, a merciful change from more recent blockbusters who don't know the definition of the term "three act structure." Bottom line: while it doesn't do anything to push the superhero genre forward, it doesn't do anything wrong. Even a DC fanboy like me can admit that it's a very fun film.

7/10

Seven Men From Now: Budd Boetticher

Randolph Scott was one tough, mean sonovabitch. Of course, if you never watched the Westerns he made with Budd Boetticher, you may not know it. One of the best was Seven Men From Now.  I am not alone in this opinion. Legendary critic André Bazin once wrote that Seven Men From Now was "one of the exemplary successes of the contemporary Western."  Like most of Boetticher films, it has a very simple plot.  Scott plays Ben Stride, the ex-sheriff of Silver Springs.  He is on the search for seven criminals who accidentally killed his wife in the middle of a Wells Fargo freight office robbery where they ran off with $20,000 dollars in gold.  During his hunt, he encounters John and Annie Greer, two inexperienced settlers on their way from Kansas City to California.  At first he merely helps them along when they encounter serious problems such a thick mud.  However, it is revealed that the two may be more related to the Wells Fargo freight office robbery than Stride could have ever imagined.  Clocking in at under 80 minutes, Seven Men From Now is a tight ball of compressed Western drama.  For such a short film, it feels over two hours long. But instead of feeling drawn out, the entire two imaginary hours are absolutely riveting. Boetticher's Westerns have an aura of authenticity and authority. And Seven Men From Now is no exception.

8/10

Tall in the Saddle: Edwin L. Marin

It is said that Peter Bogdanovich once mentioned to Orson Welles that he had seen Touch of Evil (1958) four or five times before he even noticed the story.  The reason, he explained, was that he was so enamored with the direction that he couldn't focus on the actual plot. I feel much the same way after viewing Edwin L. Marin's Tall in the Saddle.  Only, instead of being captivated by the direction, I was mesmerized by the performances. If there is a plot to Tall in the Saddle, as I'm sure there is, then I entirely missed it. I was much too focused on the actors' various mannerisms and the tight, terse screenplay by Paul Fix and Michael Hogan.  Central to this film is the indomitable presence of John Ford as Rocklin, a cynical, no-nonsense ranch hand. Rocklin is openly misogynistic, delivering lines like, "I never feel sorry for anything that happens to a woman." It's obvious that some woman has gone and done him wrong in the past, but Rocklin isn't talking. He arrives in a small town to take over as foreman for a local ranch only to discover that its owner had been murdered weeks before his arrival. Furthermore, it seems that the new owner of the ranch, Clara Cardell, is being swindled from her inheritance. So, begrudgingly, Rocklin helps solve the murder and stop to plot to rob Clara. But as I said, I was too busy admiring the acting and dialogue to really pay attention to the story.  I most clearly remember tiny vignettes scattered throughout the film. One of my favorites is when Rocklin is cheated during a poker game in a hotel and calmly walks upstairs to his room. One of the other players tells the cheater that he had better give Rocklin his money back because he's "the kind of man who would come back downstairs." And almost on cue Rocklin slowly, deliberately walks down the stairs, stares the cheater in the face, and tells him to give him his money back. It's an astoundingly powerful scene. Another one of my favorites is when Arly Harolday, the sister of the poker cheat, is tricked into trying to get his money back. She confronts Rocklin in the street and shoots at him. But Rocklin just flat out ignores her and walks straight to the saloon under a hail of angry gunfire. This won't be the only time that I watch Tall in the Saddle. The screenplay is too rich and the acting too superb to warrant only one viewing.

8/10

Border Incident: Anthony Mann

What's that? A film noir directed by Anthony Mann featuring the cinematography of John Alton? Why, that sounds fantastic! It seems like Border Incident was custom made for cinephiles like yours truly. Well, I can say that as far as film noir go, Border Incident delivers the goods.  It focuses on a topic which has become a cause célèbre for politicians in the last few decades: illegal immigration.  After a number of illegal immigrants are brutally murdered, robbed, and thrown into quicksand while attempting to cross the border, the governments of the United States and Mexico decide to collaborate in order to stop the bloodshed. So both governments dispatch agents to try and shut down a group of criminals who illegally smuggle Mexicans over the border. The Mexican agent is Pablo Rodriguez, played by a young Ricardo Montalban, who goes undercover as a bracero seeking illegal transport to America.  It's quite odd to watch a film from 1949 deal with a problem that has dominated our modern politosphere for so many years.  If I was a more cynical man, I would openly mock the scenes where US and Mexican officials talk in deep, serious tones about how most Mexican workers and American ranchers obey the law.  But ignoring that, Border Incident is a decent film. There are a number of particularly effective scenes. In one scene, Rodriguez is almost revealed as an agent when an old woman touches his hands to see whether or not he is a true bracero and he has to improvise a back-story or face execution.  In another, a US agent is savagely murdered by being run over by a mechanized harrow. And it is fascinating to watch how Mann uses quicksand to heighten the tension of the climactic gunfight.  Border Incident may seem somewhat naive from today's perspective. But it remains a solid entry in both Anthony Mann's and John Alton's respective filmographies.

7/10

Buchanan Rides Alone: Budd Boetticher

The Westerns of Budd Boetticher hold a very special place in my heart. As Martin Scorsese once said, his Westerns distill the very essence of the genre into its purest form.  Many of his best Westerns were collaborations with an aged Randolph Scott.  I thoroughly enjoyed such films as Seven Men from Now (1956) and The Tall T (1957).  And yet I find myself feeling less enthusiastic about their 1958 film Buchanan Rides Alone.  The film follows Scott and Tom Buchanan, an ex-gunfigher looking to re-invent himself as a rancher.  When he arrives at the California border town of Agry, he becomes embroiled in a feud concerning the Agry family.  The Agry family dominates the town with members serving as mayor and sheriff.  When Buchanan first came into town, he made the mistake of aiding a young Mexican being brutally assaulted by several men.  What Buchanan didn't know was that the Mexican had just murdered one of the members of the Agry family.  And so Buchanan is pulled into a full-on struggle between the town (and family) of Agry and a Mexican group who are willing to pay a substantial ransom for the killer.  Buchanan Rides Alone contains many of the elements that made Boetticher's Westerns so fantastic: a lone, cynical gunfighter and a bleak landscape dominated by violence.  And yet, it doesn't feel like a Boetticher Western. Buchanan is just a little too happy.  There is just a little too much comic relief.  And most importantly, I never found myself intimidated by the Agry family. The Agry family can't seem to get their priorities in order. Near the start of the film, they stop Buchanan and the Mexican from getting lynched so that one of their number will be elected for mayor...or was it governor? But then the very same Agry who was so scared of upsetting voters hatches a plan to release a despised criminal in exchange for $50,000. Doesn't he realize that ransoming off a convicted murderer will ensure that nobody will vote for him?  Anyhow, the film does contain a few moments of brilliance. My favorite scene was the climactic shootout where the Agry family and Buchanan fight from opposite sides of a bridge with a sack of $50,000 in the middle.  As both sides send out envoys to retrieve the money, the number of bodies in the middle of the street increases. It is a savage, powerful scene. Too bad I can't say the same for the rest of the film.

6/10

The White Buffalo: J. Lee Thompson

Blatant historical inaccuracies can destroy my enjoyment of a film. The idea of Wild Bill Hickok and Crazy Horse joining forces would usually be enough to make me want to avoid a certain film. But The White Buffalo is concerned with myth and legend, dreams and visions.  J. Lee Thompson creates a foreboding fearscape out of the snowy wastes of the West, a setting which is much too often ignored by filmmakers and writers.  Haunted by dreams of a giant white buffalo, Hickok sets out to kill this mythical monster. However, the white buffalo is also being pursued by Crazy Horse. The white buffalo had killed his daughter while rampaging through his camp. His sorrow and tears over her death resulted in his elders taking away his name and replacing it with the title "worm" until he can kill the White Buffalo and wrap his daughter in its hide.  What could have been a very silly film was actually a surprisingly effective fantasy thriller.  Much attention is given to various shootouts where Wild Bill and Crazy Horse intelligently use the terrain to gain the upper hand. Also, the white buffalo becomes a true specter of fear and death.  Part of this has to do with how Thompson never lets us see all of the buffalo in a single shot. We see his side profile, head, and horns in various disjointed shots. But we are almost never allowed to comprehend where the buffalo is in comparison to his surroundings.  He becomes like the monstrous Jaws; capable of appearing wherever and whenever he wants to strike at helpless victims. The White Buffalo is now one of my favorite mythical creatures in the Old West. If I ever write a Western, you can be sure that somewhere inside of it there will be a White Buffalo.

7/10

Dodge City: Michael Curtiz

The opening scenes of Michael Curtiz's Dodge City contains one of the most striking metaphors for the encroachment of civilization upon the Old West ever filmed. The first train to Dodge City, Kansas carries a group of Irish investors who goad the engineers into a race with a nearby stagecoach. The two race along at breakneck speed until the horses tire and the train zooms to victory. The investors mention how anything, even the construction of a railroad, can be accomplished through the work of a "few Irishmen," completely oblivious to the suffering at the hands of the immigrants who built and died for the railroad.  This magnificent opening sequence frames a fantastic film by one of Hollywood's most reliable workhorses.  The film follows Wade Hatton, played by the always entertaining Errol Flynn, a cowboy who decides to clean up the town of Dodge City after a young boy is accidentally killed by a local gang of outlaws led by Jeff Surrett.  It's a pretty standard "good cowboy brings justice to lawless town" storyline. But Curtiz's direction and Flynn's performance help it come alive.  One particularly moving scene involves Hatton stopping a mob from lynching a member of Surrett's gang named Yance after the young boy is killed. It isn't enough that Hatton brings justice...he brings civilization and law as well.  Because Errol Flynn was the leading star, he must have been contractually obligated to have a love interest. Thankfully, this position was filled by the radiant Olivia de Havilland.  Dodge City came out the same year as John Ford's Stagecoach which has been celebrated for elevating the Western from pulpy, B-movie fare to genuine art.  While Stagecoach is a much better film, it's a shame that it overshadows this delightful treat of a movie.

7/10

Hannie Caulder: Burt Kennedy

Watching Burt Kennedy's Hannie Caulder, I found myself swimming in questions. These questions included things like: Oh, Ernest Borgnine...you are Hollywood's teddy bear...so how are you so good at playing amoral, psychotic villains? Why haven't I ever watched a film with Raquel Welch before? Is Raquel Welch my new crush? And, finally, am I really enjoying a rape/revenge flick?  The answers, in order, are: who knows, because I'm a moron, yes, and yes.  Hannie Caulder may be a rape/revenge flick, but unlike other "classics" of the genre like I Spit on Your Grave (1978), it doesn't linger on the actual rape and doesn't outright exploit the heroine.  Well, that's not true. There is one scintillating scene where Raquel Welch takes a back while wearing her pants and gives us a stunning profile of her backside. But even that didn't have any frontal nudity. This film is actually concerned about the central character and not her assault. Three outlaws named the Clemens brothers come to Hannie's homestead one day after a ruined bank job. They kill her husband, rape her, and burn her house to the ground.  Afterwards, she tracks down professional bounty hunter Thomas Price (played by the magnificent Robert Culp) and makes him teach her how to be a gunfighter. From there the film follows Hannie as she picks off the brothers.  Despite its sleazy premise, real artistry went into this film. Raquel Welch absolutely stunned me with her convincing performance.  The film boasted a surprisingly effective soundtrack and beautiful photography of the barren Southwest. I enjoyed this film. And, uh, not just for, *ahem*, Raquel Welch's backside.

7/10

Fort Apache: John Ford

Fort Apache was the first film in John Ford's Cavalry Trilogy, a series of films that focused on the U.S. Cavalry in the mythical Old West.  The other two would be the criminally underrated She Wore a Yellow Ribbon (1949) and the surprisingly overrated Rio Grande (1950).  All three would also star John Wayne. In this first film, he plays Captain Kirby York, a cavalry officer operating out of the eponymous Fort Apache, a cavalry post in the middle of nowhere.  But the film doesn't focus on Captain York. Instead, Ford focuses his camera primarily on Lieutenant Colonel Owen Thursday, played by Henry Fonda.  Thursday is sent to Fort Apache in order to serve as its new commander. However, despite having experience as a general in the Civil War, he is fool-hardy, arrogant, and full of himself.  His actions lead to the slaughter of most of his troops against a force of Chiricahua Apache.  It isn't until near the end of the film when the massacre takes place that the audience realizes that Fort Apache is a metaphor for the Battle of Little Bighorn and Custer's Last Stand.  The reason is that much of the film is devoted to that most central theme in John Ford's work: family. Thursday's daughter, Philadelphia (played by an astonishingly beautiful all-grown up Shirley Temple), falls in love with Second Lieutenant Michael Shannon O'Rourke.  Despite Michael's father receiving the Congressional Medal of Honor for his actions as a major in the Irish Brigade during the Civil War and therefore being allowed to study at West Point, Thursday refuses to let him court his daughter. Despite Michael's father's legacy, Thursday considers him to be of a lower class and therefore "unworthy" of his daughter. It is fascinating to watch how Ford mixes Thursday's duties as a soldier and responsibilities as a father and how his stances towards both leads to his downfall.  Fort Apache is a magnificent film that is stunning in scale, heart-breaking in emotion, and rich in subtext.

8/10

Pony Express: Jerry Hopper

Pony Express bugged me. I know that isn't a very precise or engaging critical evaluation, but it's the simplest way to express my feelings towards this film.  I know that American Westerns, particularly ones from the first half of the decade, were never known for their historical accuracy. But Pony Express takes it to such insane extremes that it pulled me out of the viewing experience. The film follows Wild Bill Hickok and Buffalo Bill as they give birth to the Pony Express by setting up a mail route from St. Joseph, Missouri to Sacramento, California. Along the way they fight against California secessionists partially led by the owner of a stagecoach business.  Their journey includes a scene where Buffalo Bill engages in a tomahawk battle with a Sioux chief...and wins.  The film stars Charlton Heston as Buffalo Bill, but it is astounding how forgettable his performance is...as well as the rest of the film.  I watched this film very intently. But that was over a week ago. And amazingly, I cannot remember almost anything from this film.  There's just a giant...blank...where my memories of this film should be...

5/10

The Gunfighter: Henry King

Henry King's The Gunfighter isn't so much a traditional Western as it is a morality tale set in the Old West.  Similar to William A. Wellman's The Ox-Bow Incident (1943) it uses the historical and mythological trappings of the Western in able to examine human nature.  The film follows Jimmy Ringo (Gregory Peck), an aging gunfighter with the unfortunate reputation of being the fastest draw in the West. Ringo wants nothing more than to abandon that life and settle down. But wherever he goes he is challenged by cock-sure youngsters desperate to make a name for themselves by killing him.  When a young man named Eddie tries to shoot him, Ringo is forced to kill him.  Despite clearly acting in self-defense, Eddie's three brothers swear a vendetta against him. Ringo flees to the town of Cayenne in order to see his wife and the son that he hasn't seen in eight years.  As Ringo waits for the brothers to catch up with him, he must confront shadows of his past, such as an old man who believes that he murdered his son.  And then, of course, there is the arrogant young whelp named Hunt Bromley who sees Ringo as the key to finally gaining fame as a gunslinger...The Gunfighter is a truly magnificent film with a cynical, yet realistic eye on human nature. The town of Cayenne becomes a vacuum in which this old shootist is poked, prodded, and abused by the people that he has touched, either directly or indirectly. The Gunfighter was one of the first Westerns of the fifties that injected the genre with a new sense of moral awareness. Along with Devil's Doorway (1950), one of the first of ten Westerns directed by Anthony Mann in the fifties that would redefine the genre, The Gunfighter helped revolutionize this most beloved of American cinematic traditions.

9/10

Machine-Gun Kelly: Roger Corman

A few minutes into Roger Corman's Machine-Gun Kelly, a loose biopic of real-life Prohibition-era gangster George "Machine Gun" Kelly, something about the lead actor began to bother me. Something just seemed off about him. Sure, his performance as the quasi-psychotic gangster fit the low-budget tone of the film. But a little voice in the back of my head wouldn't stop nagging me about how uncanny the whole ordeal appeared. So I paused the movie and checked its credits only to discover to my complete astonishment that "Machine Gun" Kelly was being portrayed by none other than Charles "Death Wish" Bronson.  That's right, the same Charles Bronson whose intense, stoic machismo made him a superstar in such films as The Magnificent Seven (1960) and Once Upon a Time in the West (1968).  And here he was in Machine-Gun Kelly giving such an energetic performance that I initially couldn't recognize him.  Unfortunately, Bronson's performance is the highlight of the film.  The rest of the film follows a fairly stereotypical gangster plot: after a job goes sour and one of his boys is critically injured, Kelly attempts to orchestrate one final score.  His plan is to kidnap the daughter of a wealthy businessman and hold her for ransom.  However, the job is bungled by his underlings' ineptitude and the duplicity of former allies that he had humiliated and insulted.  There is a reoccurring motif of a feral mountain lion trapped by a gas station attendant in a tiny cage where it is poked, prodded, and provoked into a furious rage for the amusement of customers.  It doesn't take a Ph.D in film studies to realize that the mountain lion represents Kelly's barely concealed homicidal urges.  The scenes with Kelly and the mountain lion are surprisingly effective.  But almost everything else is just plain ol' by-the-books-and-budget Roger Corman. But, hey, I've never claimed that was a bad thing...well, usually...

6/10

The Big Chill: Lawrence Kasdan

Oh, William Hurt and Lawrence Kasdan...how much longer must you two plague me? Body Heat (1981) was great, but I think we all know that's because it was just an update on Double Indemnity (1944).  But after that...whenever you two are involved in the same film I feel an incredible sense of dread. The Big Chill is the kind of film that William Hurt does best, i.e. slow, plodding dramas about well-to-do white people. They include films like Children of a Lesser God (1986), The Accidental Tourist (1988), and Smoke (1995). I just don't find Hurt a very compelling actor. Recordings of his voice should be sold as sleeping aids. But anyway, in The Big Chill Hurt is one of a group of college friends who re-unite after 15 years to mourn the death of one of their own. After the funeral, they congregate in his old South Carolina house and proceed to catch up on each other.  This, of course, involves several scenes of the women drinking wine and the men jogging together in a line. There are some good performances like Jeff Goldblum as Michael, a somewhat neurotic journalist, and Meg Tilly as Chloe, the eccentric and odd girlfriend of the recently deceased friend.  But the film takes the predictable path of establishing that each of them is unsatisfied with their lives.  But, conveniently, these problems can apparently be fixed when they inevitably pair off with each other. There are some dancing and shenanigans with a local cop that take place.  But the vast majority of the film plays like a session of group therapy for this gathering of unhappy thirtysomethings. The only real thing of note in The Big Chill is the exceptional soundtrack of classic rock and soul.  Otherwise, The Big Chill seems like an unnecessary time waster.  Although this film did make me release how much I enjoy Kevin Kline.  Whatever happened to him, anyway?

6/10

Tombstone: George P. Cosmatos, Kevin Jarre

This may seem like a strange thing to notice, but I have never seen a Western as clean as George P. Cosmatos' Tombstone.  I don't mean "clean" in the sense that there isn't any violence or cussing.  No, I mean that everything in Tombstone looks too neat and tidy for a period piece set in the Old West.  Let me explain. I recently watched Michael Curtiz's Dodge City (1939).  In the first few minutes, the film's star, Errol Flynn, appears with his face covered in dust and dirt.  This is the same Errol Flynn known for his dashing good looks and charm, mind you. And yet all of the characters in Tombstone look like they had just stepped out of a spa.  Even after supposedly riding all day, the characters in Tombstone all look immaculately clean and well-groomed. And therein lies my problem with Tombstone: it feels like a sterile attempt to recapture the glory days of the Hollywood Western.  The film is loosely based on the legendary Gunfight at the O.K. Corral and the ensuing Earp Vendetta in Tombstone, Arizona during the 1880s.  The gunfight had already been the subject of three classic Westerns: Dodge City, My Darling Clementine (1946), and Gunfight at the O.K. Corral (1957).  But what Tombstone forgets is that the most interesting part of the story surrounding the gunfight was not the actual violence, but the characters who were involved, particular Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday.  Tombstone presents these legendary figures as almost one-dimensional shadows.  Kurt Russell's Wyatt Earp is mean and rugged. Sam Elliott's Virgil Earp is wise and stoic. The most memorable performance is Val Kilmer as the consumptive Doc Holliday. Most of the film is forced and unconvincing. Then the film devolves into a series of shootouts that would make Peckinpah blush.  I won't deny that the film does have a few great moments. Russell's "Hell's coming with me" speech remains one of the most chilling moments of his career. But overall, the film lacks purpose or direction. Somebody should have told Cosmatos that the Gunfight at the O.K. Corral was much, much more than just a shoot-out.

6/10

The Premature Burial: Roger Corman

Most of the fun of watching Roger Corman's Edgar Allan Poe films is in seeing how he changed and adapted the source material to suit his own ends.  Indeed, the most enjoyable entries in the series are the ones that strayed from the original stories.  The Raven (1963) used the famous poem as a spring-board for satirical comedy.  The Haunted Palace (1963) wasn't even based on a Poe story, but instead on The Case of Charles Dexter Ward, a novella by H. P. Lovecraft.  The only connection it had with the works of Poe was the title which was itself a quote from one of his poems.  And now we have The Premature Burial. Just like the original Poe story, it follows a man whose worst fear is being buried alive. Fully aware that catalepsy, a disorder which makes a person appear dead for prolonged periods of time, runs in his family, he sets several safeguards like a rigged coffin so that he won't be accidentally buried. I won't spoil the rest of the film, but suffice to say that despite his best efforts he still finds himself buried alive.  But curiously enough, he manages to escape. From there the film becomes a strikingly effective revenge thriller with a genuinely chilling twist at the very end.  All the while it maintains that brooding Victorian kitsch that made Corman's Poe films so memorable.  The Premature Burial may very well be the best Corman Poe film that didn't star Vincent Price.

7/10

The Wild Angels: Roger Corman

So this is the film that inspired the outlaw biker film genre of the late 1960s and 1970s, huh?  I don't understand why. When you get right down to it, Roger Corman's The Wild Angels isn't very good.  I guess it was so beloved and influential due to the lifestyle that it portrayed.  It follows the eponymous biker gang as they raise hell and havoc throughout California.  Near the beginning, one of the bikers named Loser has his motorcycle stolen. So the gang tracks down his motorcycle to a Latino garage near Mecca, California and demonstrate how they solve all of their problems: extreme violence.  However, the police come to break up the fight and Loser is shot in the back.  The Wild Angels then do the sensible thing and kidnap Loser from the hospital, only stopping to sexually assault one of the nurses.  Much to their great surprise, removing Loser from the hospital results in him going into shock and dying.  And so Blues, the leader of the gang played by Peter Fonda, takes Loser's body to his hometown to have him buried.  But first they stop at a small church to have a service.  Again, they seem totally surprised that the minister of the church would object to them hanging a giant Nazi Swastika Flag over the altar and showing up to the ceremony in leather and blue jeans.  Blues then confronts the minister midway through the service because he objects to the eulogy. The minister asks what exactly the Wild Angels want. Blues takes the stage and delivers a passionate plea: "We want to be free! We want to be free to do what we want to do! We want to be free to ride. And we want to be free to ride our machines without being hassled by The Man. And we want to get loaded. And we want to have a good time! And that’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna have a good time. We’re gonna have a party!" They then demonstrate their idea of "freedom" by destroying the church, raping Loser's girlfriend, and brawling with another gang. So, clearly these people deserve to have the freedom to do what they want. I'm sorry, but I just didn't like this film. It's poorly paced and features a completely unlikable set of protagonists. But then again, I'm just a square. So what do I know?

3/10

Gas-s-s-s: Roger Corman

While watching Roger Corman's Gas-s-s-s, I was reminded of his earlier film The Trip (1967) where a young Peter Fonda embarks on a surreal and mind-bending LSD trip.  Both films feature wild visuals, over-the-top characters, and odd cultural references. Who can forget the scene in The Trip where a midget riding a merry-go-round starts to scream "Bay of Pigs" for no logical reason?  Gas-s-s-s, on the other hand, starts with a strange animated sequence where a beefy army general modeled after John Wayne and a German scientist accidentally unleash a deadly gas upon the United States which kills everyone over the age of twenty-five.  There's some kind of political statement being said...but for the life of me I can't figure out what it is.  And, honestly, I don't think Corman knew, either. My suspicion is that with The Trip and Gas-s-s-s Corman inserted a large amount of politically and socially provocative material just for the sake of being politically and socially provocative.  Anything to sell movie tickets, I guess. But despite all of this Gas-s-s-s is a weak, incomprehensible film.  Other than its basic premise, I have no idea what Gas-s-s-s is about.  All I remember is a bunch of teenagers running around in ridiculous outfits who occasionally stop and engage in shootouts with other bands of derelict teenagers.  At some point a group of survivors take shelter in a kind of hippie monastery.  But it isn't long before a small army of jocks crossed with Mad Max rejects lay siege upon them and demand that they turn over all of their fruits and vegetables.  By that point I had given up trying to decipher this film.  I simply didn't care anymore.

4/10

Carnival Rock: Roger Corman

Only Roger Corman could take a title like Carnival Rock and turn it into a good movie. Carnival Rock was one of nine movies that Corman would direct and release in 1957.  It takes place largely in a rock and roll nightclub located on a carnival pier.  Of the film's 75 minute running time, at least half of it is comprised of musical performances by rock groups. The actual storyline follows the club's owner, Christy, as he struggles to keep his club from falling into the hands of debt collectors and rival businessmen.  Christy is madly in love with the club's star, Natalie Cook, but she refuses to return his affections. Instead, she is smitten with Stanley, a stone-faced businessman who is determined to own Christy's club. The plot is standard melodramatic fluff up until the mid-point when Stanley manages to manipulate Christy into betting away his club by challenging his affections for Natalie.  They play a simple game that involves cutting a deck of cards where whoever draws the highest wins.  Taking part in the bet seems like an insanely idiotic choice on Christy's part.  But what can he do? He's in love. This may sound corny, but this entire sequence contains a surprising amount of genuine pathos. I was amazed by how much I actually cared about Christy and his plight. This made it all the more tragic when Christy is forced to become the carnival's clown and get mocked nightly by customers.  When Christy finally snaps, I found myself rooting for him! But let's look beyond the plot for a second. I mentioned that a good portion of this film was comprised of musical performances. In many cheap B-movies, this can come as a death sentence.  Who can forget legendary composer John Williams' attempt at writing rock music with "Rock Rock Candy Baby" in Lou Place's Daddy-O (1958) or Arch Hall Jr.'s constant insipid mewling in Eegah (1962)?  But you know what? The performers in Carnival Rock are...pretty damn good! At one point, legendary R&B pioneers The Platters appear and sing a number! The PLATTERS! So I would recommend Carnival Rock. It's got a firm plot and a swinging soundtrack.  I wish I could say the same for the rest of Corman's 1957 films.  I'm looking at YOU Attack of the Crab Monsters. 

7/10

Dune: David Lynch

Maybe it's because I'm so damn tired of modern day CGI-fests.  Maybe I'm sick of directors relying on computers for special effects instead of actual creative filmmaking techniques.  And maybe I'm just completely insane. But whatever the case, the fact remains that I adored David Lynch's Dune.  It's like an art-house blockbuster! Oh, it makes no sense. It's silly, loud, confusing, and exposition heavy. But you know what? I still liked it! I'm not going to try and sum up the plot in this short review because it would insult Frank Herbert's original novel.  Some stories you just shouldn't reduce to a paragraph, y'know?  But Lynch's adaptation is like porn for people who love old-school special effects.  And I know that the effects weren't considered very good back when it first came out.  But you couldn't possibly understand my relief and joy at seeing a giant monster made with models and puppets in this day and age. So I'm going to stop this review here. I can't objectively criticize this film. Besides, there are plenty of other reviews out there by much better writers and critics than I.

8/10 (My personal, incredibly biased score)

Salem’s Lot: Tobe Hooper

I have seen my fair share of bad Stephen King adaptations.  But never before has one bored me as much as Tobe Hooper's Salem's Lot.  You'd think that a story about a haunted mansion and a powerful vampire infiltrating a tiny New England (read: Maine) town would be interesting.  But it's not. Oh...how it's not.  So what went wrong? Well, how about the fact that the narrative is spread out over two hour-and-a-half episodes that were made for television?  We all know that King's stories are notoriously long.  But the reason why people don't get bored of them is because they are written so well. When somebody tries to adapt King's stories for the screen, the longer they are, the more damning they are. The best Stephen King adaptations are compact and well paced. Salem's Lot is neither.  The film chugs along for the first 40-50 minutes without anything happening. Then we get a genuinely scary scene of a child vampire floating outside of his brother's window. And then the plot pulls the drag-shoot for another hour or so.  The characters are bland and generic, even for a Stephen King story. A writer comes to town, falls in love with a boring woman, and tries to stop a vampire from taking over.  Even James Mason, who plays the vampire's servant who prepares the haunted mansion for his arrival, seems bored.  When James Mason decides to phone it in, then you know that a film is going to hurt.  My advice? Avoid this movie and read the book. At least reading the book won't feel like it took as much time as watching the movie will.

4/10

A History of Violence: David Cronenberg

I'm not sure why David Cronenberg wanted to make A History of Violence.  It doesn't seem very, if you'll allow me to abuse the term, "Cronenbergian." It seems more like a Peckinpah or Eastwood film.  Based on the graphic novel of the same name by John Wagner, the film follows Tom Stall, a small restaurant owner and family man living in Millbrook, Indiana.  One night, two criminals try and rob his restaurant, holding his customers hostage. He responds by killing them with a frightening efficiency. Tom becomes a local hero.  His story and picture are shared all over the United States. Almost immediately after this news is broadcast, a number of Irish gangsters from Philadelphia show up and start calling him Joey Cusack.  They claim that he was a well-known criminal who fled after trying to kill a rival mob leader.  One thing leads to another and Tom finds himself being drawn back into the old criminal underworld which refuses to let him go.  Even worse, they are more than willing to hold his family hostage to get what they want. The film meditates on a number of themes that I have never really found within Cronenberg's previous work: the nature of redemption, the importance of family, and a man's right to defend them.  I guess that the film does explore the idea of a sinister, criminal underground which lurks beneath every aspect of human life, no matter how idealistic or picturesque they may be.  That is certainly an idea that Cronenberg has explored before in his films.  But regardless, A History of Violence is a fine character study of a man trying to escape his past.  But I still can't understand why Cronenberg wanted to direct it.

7/10

Fast Company: David Cronenberg

Fast Company was always the black sheep in David Cronenberg's filmography.  Whereas almost all of Cronenberg's early films were about body horror and/or science fiction, Fast Company is a regular sports film about drag racing.  The film was obviously a true labor of love for Cronenberg. And yet, I can't recommend it.  And, no, it isn't because I am not the film's target audience. While I don't enjoy racing or cars, I have loved several films about such things.  Fast Company is dreadfully generic.  It only clocks in at about 91 minutes, but the film felt three times as long. It follows a group of "good" racers who must fight back against their corrupt sponsor and another group of "bad" racers. That's about it, actually. There really isn't much more to explain.  Oh, I suppose there are a couple of nice things to be found in it. The film features a genuinely enjoyable rock soundtrack and features some fun racing footage.   But the narrative is tired and contrived.  Also, in a bizarre turn, the film features several scenes of full frontal nudity and sex. They just seem out of place in a film with almost no other form of objectionable content.  I guess hardcore drag racing fans might enjoy Fast Company. But a film should be able to appeal to anybody who watches it. All I can say is that I'm glad that this was the only sports film Cronenberg ever made.

5/10

A Dangerous Method: David Cronenberg

I've always found Carl Jung, the founder of analytical psychology, much more fascinating that Sigmund Freud, founder of the discipline of psychoanalysis. He was more willing to take risks and explore theories that threatened his scientific reputation.  Now I have a film by David Cronenberg that backs up my assumption: A Dangerous Method.  The film starts in Zurich where Sabina Spielrein, a young woman dominated by mental illness, arrives at the Burghölzli, the preeminent psychiatric hospital in the region. She becomes Jung's patient and helps him gather evidence for his theory of psychoanalysis.  Jung's methods work so well that soon Spielrein becomes a distinguished colleague and his part-time lover.  A large portion of the film depicts the relationship between Jung and Freud. At first, they assume a father-son relationship borne of mutual respect and scientific admiration.  But as Spielrein begins to chart her own course of scientific investigation, Jung and Freud's friendship turns sour. Jung feels betrayed when Spielrein works for Freud and suggests that his theories may be better than his own. Freud sees Spielrein as a kind of pawn for keeping control over Jung. Although I suspect that Freud did have genuine feelings of friendship towards Jung, he was incapable of sustaining a relationship that did not have him as the superior, authority figure.  This was an unusual film for Cronenberg. There are a few scenes where Jung and Spielrein's sadomasochistic affair are depicted, but other than that all of the drama comes from dialogue and long takes of eminent scientists sadly brooding in their studies. I say this because I have always considered Cronenberg as a more visual director.  When I heard that he was doing a film about the birth of psychiatry, A Dangerous Method was not what I had in mind. But to punish a film for what it isn't wouldn't be fair or proper.  A Dangerous Method is a well constructed, well acted drama. And yet it leaves me feeling like I have only seen a small part of one of modern science's most fascinating stories.

7/10

The Brother from Another Planet: John Sayles

Watching John Sayles' The Brother from Another Planet, it can be difficult to believe that it was made for only $350,000.  These days it seems like even an independent drama with no special effects or established names can't even get made for less than one million dollars.  But, lo and behold, Sayles proved that great films don't need great budgets. But I suppose we should have all seen that coming. A student of Roger Corman, the godfather of B-movies, Sayles got his film education making films for pennies.  So when Sayles received a MacArthur Fellows "genius" grant of $350,000, it only stood to reason that he would make something special. The result was the aforementioned The Brother from Another Planet. It follows an unnamed "Brother," or alien, who crash lands in the Upper New York Harbor in the early 1980s while on the run.  The Brother looks exactly like a normal black human except for his feet which each sport only three toes.  On his old world, having three toes meant that you were a slave.  And so we have the familiar scenario of a stranger in a strange land. Only this time, it's an alien in New York City.  We travel through the usual cliches of this particular story: culture shock (the concept of money confuses him), finding a group of friends (the denizens of a black bar), falling in love (with a lounge singer), and fighting off people who try to return him to his original home (two white "hunters"). But what's fascinating is how Sayles' manages to perfectly utilize these established tropes so that they seem fresh and new again. All of story developments feel organic, not forced. And Sayles has an impeccable eye for capturing New York City's cultural richness. The title makes it sound like a knock-off blaxploitation flick. But The Brother from Another Planet is something much, much more.

9/10

Eastern Promises: David Cronenberg

It usually doesn't take me very long to realize that I am watching a film that I will inevitably give a 10/10 score.  In most cases it only takes me about 15-20 minutes.  There are even some films, like The 400 Blows (1959), that I can tell within minutes of starting that I am witnessing something truly special. I guess it's a talent you develop when you watch over 300+ films every year.  This was not the case with David Cronenberg's Eastern Promises.  Cronenberg's film about the Russian Mafia in London and European sex trafficking didn't really grab my attention until about two-thirds of the way into its running time.  It started off like a standard, albeit unusually well photographed and acted, mafia movie.  A 14 year old Russian prostitute dies while giving birth to a baby girl.  Anna Khitrova, the British-Russian midwife who assists in the birth at a London hospital, discovers a diary and a business card for a Trans-Siberian restaurant among the dead girl's belongings.  Her Russian is poor, but she is able to learn that her name was Tatiana.  She gives the diary to her gloomy Ukranian uncle Stepan to translate. But before he can finish deciphering the diary, she travels to the Trans-Siberian restaurant to investigate why Titania had one of their cards. What she doesn't know is that the restaurant is owned by Semyon, an elderly vory (the equivalent of an Italian "Godfather") in the Russian Mafia.  When she returns home, she is horrified to discover from the freshly translated diary that Titania was a sex slave who was lured to England with promises of a better life only to be beaten, raped, forcibly addicted to heroin, and impregnated by Semyon and his son Kirill.  Things get even worse when Semyon orders his driver and body disposer Nikolai Luzhin to retrieve the diary and make their problem with Anna's family "disappear."  Incredibly, what I have just described is only the surface story. Underneath are subplots concerning power struggles between Semyon's organization and a rival Chechen gang, Kirill's attempts to gain his father's respect and power, the importance and iconography of prison tattoos within the Russian mafia, and the savage nature of London's criminal underground.  This is a movie of truly astonishing complexity and depth. I didn't even really realize how complicated this film's story was until about an hour in when I realized that I was juggling 4-5 subplots in my head. But even more amazingly, Cronenberg's direction and Steven Knight's screenplay balance all of the film's subplots without making any of them seem convoluted or confusing.  I previously said that I didn't realize that I was watching a 10/10 until about two-thirds of the way in. The reason is that after about an hour the plot suddenly swung in an unexpected direction that took me so violently by surprise that I'm amazed my head didn't fall off.  And yet, despite the cataclysmic twist, the plot development was handled with such finesse that it seemed like a natural extension of the story instead of a cheap director's ploy.  This movie truly left me in awe. Armin Mueller-Stahl's performance as Semyon is the stuff of legend.  In my book, he ranks alongside Don Vito Corleone, Tony Montana, and Tommy DeVito as one of the most fascinating, and terrifying, mafia bosses in cinematic history.  Viggo Mortensen gives the performance of his career as Nikolai Luzhin.  And finally, Eastern Promises features a fight scene in a Turkish bath that will one day be regarded as one of the greatest ever committed to film.  How good is it? In my opinion, it ranks with the hallway scene in Oldboy (2003), Bruce Lee vs. Chuck Norris in Way of the Dragon (1972), and the alleyway brawl in They Live (1988).  Eastern Promises is truly a film for the ages.

10/10