Enemy Mine (1985)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Enemy Mine (1985) – W. Petersen

Never saw this unforgettable sci-fi film back in the day and didn’t know enough about it before screening it with Amon.  For those who think it’s a buddy film in space, that’s only half correct (bromance would be the better term and I can’t think of another mainstream genre film from this era with such a barely hidden gay subtext). Dennis Quaid (channelling the later Jack Black persona) is a space pilot on the front line in the human war against the reptilian Dracs.  After a vicious dogfight, he crash lands on a deserted planet but soon discovers a Drac (Lou Gossett Jr.) has also crashed there.  In order to survive the harsh environment, they have to team up … and eventually become friends.  Months or years go by (making Quaid even more Jack Black-like) and, although the pace of the film does drag, it is anything but predictable and soon gets quite weird. I won’t spoil it here but by the end of the film, Quaid is on a rescue mission to get some Drac slaves out of the grips of some evil human miners.  This latter scene is the only explanation for the film’s title – unless you just accept that it is really meant to be “my enemy”.  Ultimately, taken as a film that desires to take on big issues, such as cross-cultural acceptance and anti-racism, in a sci-fi genre context, my feeling is that it pretty much succeeds without being too heavy-handed.  As a sci-fi film, perhaps it drags, though the old-school special effects (and especially set design) are pretty cool.

Ip Man (2008) / Drunken Master II (1994)

 

Ip Man (2008) – W. Yip (3 stars)

Drunken Master II (1994) – K.-L. Lau (3 ½ stars) 

Amon likes action films and has seen most of the good Jackie Chan films already, so we thought we would branch out to the more recent Ip Man series (available for free streaming on SBS).  However, it didn’t take long to realise that Donnie Yen’s portrayal of historical figure Ip Man (who brought the Wing Chun style of kung fu to Hong Kong and eventually trained Bruce Lee) was akin to a super-hero who could never be defeated. This was in keeping with the strongly nationalistic flavour of the film which takes place during the Japanese occupation of China just prior to WWII. The drama is pretty heavy going with Ip Man often going it alone against the sadistic invaders. This film spawned three sequels but we aren’t too interested. 

In contrast, Jackie Chan’s films from his best period (80s/90s) use a nice blend of slapstick comedy and action. Although he began to gravitate toward expensive set-pieces (hanging from a helicopter or a bus, car stunts etc.), his original stardom came as a result of his hand-to-hand combat skills (learned as part of the HK Peking Opera troupe he joined as a kid).  Drunken Master II returns us back to that style while also giving Jackie a chance to reprise his role as Wong Fei-hung (another historical figure, also played by Jet Li – with wires – in the Once Upon a Time in China series), which he originated in the 1978 action comedy Drunken Master directed by Yuen Woo-ping (who worked on The Matrix and also later with Donnie Yen).  Jackie’s kung fu style here (and in the earlier film) is called drunken boxing and is apparently amplified if the proponent actually drinks alcohol.  Set in Canton (in an earlier part of the 20^th century than Ip Man), this time the Brits are the baddies, although they have some disloyal Chinese fighters working for them (smuggling antiquities out of the country).  As usual, things start with a great deal of humour (including by pop singer Anita Mui as Jackie’s stepmother) but begin to turn rather grim as Jackie’s family gets dragged into the protests at the steel factory (where workers are treated as slaves).  It’s another film with a lot of fire stunts (similar to Police Story 2) which I find less fun than the rough-and-tumble choreography in films like Project A.  Ultimately, Jackie needs to drink industrial alcohol for the final boss fight, leading to a scene where he is blind and mentally crippled played for laughs (not included in the US release called The Legend of the Drunken Master, which is the version we watched).  Although Drunken Master II has received high ratings everywhere, it seems a step down from Jackie’s best films, despite his clear athletic prowess.    

Big Trouble in Little China (1986)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Big Trouble in Little China (1986) – J. Carpenter

My friend Reece told me that the folk horror group on facebook had been talking about this film and I suppose the plot does feature some Chinese Black Magic, but really this is a silly action comedy with more in common with Ghostbusters than with The Wicker Man.  Kurt Russell is larger than life as Jack Burton, a big-rig driving, CB-talking hero who hangs out in Chinatown, gambling with Wang Chi (Dennis Dun). When they stop at the airport to pick up Wang’s fiancée (a girl with green eyes), she is abducted and they end up in the middle of a gang war on the streets, that is totally torn asunder by some supernatural action. Enter Kim Cattrall as lawyer Gracie Law (also with green eyes) who joins in the attempt to rescue Miao Yin (Suzee Pai) from the evil spirit/ancient being David Lo Pan (James Hong).  Director John Carpenter keeps the action moving (aided by his original synth soundtrack) with lots of kung-fu fighting, visual effects and weird creatures. Kurt Russell has had a pretty amazing career, going all the way back to his Disney days as a child actor (e.g., The Computer Wore Tennis Shoes, 1969) through his partnerships with John Carpenter, Goldie Hawn, and Tarantino and a few cult hits along the way (Used Cars, Stargate).  This is a relatively minor entry in his filmography but better than some of the many misses he acted in. Impressive to have a mostly Asian cast in 1986.

 

Paul Schrader

 

 

Hardcore (1979) – 3 stars

American Gigolo (1980) – 3 stars

Cat People (1982) – 2 ½ stars

Light Sleeper (1992) – 3 ½ stars

Auto Focus (2002) – 3 stars

This week, I watched 5 Paul Schrader films (so you don’t have to?).  I suppose my (half-hearted) mission was to see whether the acclaimed Taxi Driver (1976) screenwriter could be considered an auteur or not.  He’s certainly directed a lot of films, between Blue Collar (1978) which is actually really good (with Richard Pryor, Harvey Keitel, and Yaphet Kotto – reviewed on my blog) and his most recent release Oh Canada (2024), which I haven’t seen. Mishima (1985) and First Reformed (2017) are also recommended, as is Affliction (1997) which I haven’t rewatched since then.  The above list makes it seem that Schrader is consistently releasing solid work across many decades but alas my snapshot of films across 3 decades suggests it is not true.  

Hardcore (1979) his second film finds George C. Scott heading from Michigan to L. A. to find his daughter who has apparently run away to make porno films. This gritty shot-on-location is typically described as reflecting Schrader’s upbringing in a puritanical Dutch Calvinist church community, with Scott portraying the judgmental scornful Christian that Schrader was socialised to be. The film doesn’t hold back from the sleaze and seems to want to show some affection toward some of its lost characters but is instead seems to pity them, even while displaying a voyeuristic tendency that might actually be one of Schrader’s auteur trademarks if we grant him that status.  

The next film moves from gritty (Blue Collar and Hardcore) straight into sleek and stylish with Richard Gere on display as the titular American Gigolo (1980) and Giorgio Moroder’s electronic variations on Blondie’s “Call Me” (which he cowrote) pulsing on the soundtrack.  Gere is Schrader’s existential loner -- and this is the first film in his “Lonely Man” trilogy, where he takes inspiration from Bresson’s Pickpocket (1959).  Schrader wrote a classic book about Transcendental Film that focused on Bresson, Ozu, and Dreyer.  But try as I might, I just couldn’t see this film as transcendental.  Gere forms a bond with a senator’s wife (Lauren Hutton) from whom he accepts no money and she is his only solace when he is framed for a murder, possibly by his pimp.  It isn’t bad but it isn’t good (Hector Elizondo is interesting as the homicide detective, even if the rest of the acting is boring). 

Up next: Cat People (1982), inspired by the 1942 Val Lewton/Jacques Tourneur classic but by no means a remake.  Natassja Kinski and Malcolm McDowell are literally descendents of half-cat, half human ancient entities who transform into animals if they have sex with anyone outside of their species and must kill in order to return to human form.  Despite Kinski prowling around naked, the film is nearly stultifying, even if John Heard gives it his best shot as a New Orleans zookeeper. Is anybody lonely? Maybe, since they are estranged from their species.  Moroder hardly uses Bowie’s theme music at all.  Did I mention these two films were produced by Jerry Bruckheimer? Enough said.  

Fast forward 10 years to Light Sleeper (1992) starring Willem Dafoe as another lonely man, this time a drug dealer working for Susan Sarandon.  He’s finally gotten clean and thinking about his future since Sarandon wants to get out of the business.  A run in with an ex-lover throws him out-of-sorts.  This film is a step up from the others but often feels artificial – is it a thriller, is it arthouse, it isn’t sure.  Dafoe carries it with his artistry (and we get another jailhouse scene from Pickpocket to boot). 

Dafoe does appear in a few Schrader films throughout the years and he also brings his talent to Auto Focus (2002) which returns us to a very sleazy world in this biopic of Bob Crane from Hogan’s Heroes (played by Greg Kinnear).  Crane’s interest in perving was aided and abetted by electronics expert John Carpenter (Dafoe) who introduced him to videocameras, VCRs, homemade pornography and swinging.  Crane himself doesn’t feel like one of Schrader’s lonely men but there must be a void he’s trying to fill with all this smut.  It’s a true story and Crane was murdered, probably by Carpenter.  Dafoe keeps it creepy and Schrader is back to his judgmental/voyeuristic push-pull act.  You kind of can’t look away.  

So, where does this leave us?  If I fold in half-formed memories of First Reformed, Affliction, Mishima, and newer films like the Card Counter (2021), it sort of does feel that Schrader should be granted auteur status.  However, the problem is likely that he isn’t a very good or consistent director or is too much subjected to the commercial needs of his producers (or his own poor instincts).  The themes may be there but too many of the films are average or worse.  Still, he does manage to find more acorns than a blind squirrel might.

 

The Day of the Beast (1995)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Day of the Beast (1995) – A. de la Iglesia

This Spanish “horror-comedy” appears to have a cult following, so I checked it out.  Remarkably, it holds up well, treating its supernatural content as matter-of-fact (having people respond as they might really), creating characters that you feel warmth towards, not letting the (dry) humour get in the way of the narrative and action, and tying up all of the loose ends. Special effects (used sparingly) are not too bad, although the protagonists do end up pretty bloody by the end (even if there isn’t gore per sé). The plot involves a priest who believes he has discovered the day when the Anti-Christ will be born and the apocalypse will begin – Christmas 1995 (the film takes place on that Christmas Eve).  In order to locate (and presumably kill) the baby, the priest (Álex Angulo) feels he needs to contact the Devil himself and the only way to do this is to sin as much as possible (hence he begins stealing change from panhandlers, pushing street mimes off their pedestals etc.).  Attracted by the Satanic symbols in a local record store’s window, he recruits the heavy metalhead clerk (Santiago Segura) to his cause.  Together, they make contact with a charlatan TV show host who claims paranormal abilities (Armando De Razza) and solicit his help to conjure up the Devil.  Although chaotic at times, the plot does flow logically (more or less) while offering up a few surprises (funny or disturbing).  The director, Alex de la Iglesia, seems to have had a sustained career in this genre, though perhaps nothing else with this much acclaim.  

 

The Strange Vice of Mrs. Wardh (1971)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Strange Vice of Mrs. Wardh (1971) – S. Martino

Italian giallo films are not for everyone.  Wikipedia suggests that they are “murder mystery horror-thriller” films and they are not without sex and violence.  The classic format is a black-gloved sex killer on the loose in some Italian city, a killer who wears a mask and who is not unmasked until the very end of the film, revealing one of the central characters.  In Sergio Martino’s first giallo, that’s exactly the formula.  Poor Julie (Edwige Fenech) feels she is being gaslighted by her ex-lover Jean, seemingly a sadistic creep, who might be stalking her, leaving roses with cryptic notes, even though Julie is now married to a diplomat whose work at the US embassy in Vienna keeps him away all the time.  This gives Julie the opportunity to meet and fall in love with “Australian” George Corro (George Hilton) who is in Italy to receive an inheritance from a long lost uncle (that he will share with one of Julie’s friends, his long lost cousin Carol).  All the while, Vienna is prowled by a black-gloved sex killer and Julie may be his next target.  When she’s blackmailed by someone threatening to reveal her affair to her husband, she sends Carol to the rendezvous instead – and of course she’s murdered.  At this point, I felt the film was pretty straightforward and I also felt that I knew exactly who the killer was.  However, at this point, I was very wrong and a plot-twist (or two or three) lay just ahead.  I won’t spoil them for you but if this is possibly your cup-of-tea, this was a more enjoyable (less confusing, better dubbed) giallo than some others I have seen. Also on Tubi. (Oh, and the h was added to Wardh after a real Mrs. Ward threatened to sue the producers!).

Top of the Heap (1972)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Top of the Heap (1972) – C. St. John

It isn’t clear how Blaxploitation audiences felt about this weird low-budget film from one-shot director Christopher St. John but it certainly contains enough thought-provoking content (alongside the incidental car chases and nudity) for this viewer. St. John plays George Lattimer, a Black Washington DC cop who is fed up with taking crap from perps, public, colleagues, and the captain.  His relationships with his wife and 13-year-old daughter are frayed and distant. He fantasises about joining NASA and heading to the Moon. In fact, his thoughts and fantasies are intercut into the action, even if it is just a brief blip passing through his mind in reference to what’s actually happening.  It wasn’t too hard to keep fantasy and reality straight for most of the film but I confess that I might have misjudged this by the end!  The loose plot (which sees George wrestling with whether to quit his job after the jolt of his mother’s death) is only an excuse for St. John to offer his thoughts on a variety of topics, including racism particularly but also aging and, uh, space travel (the ultimate escape?). Richard Brody of the New Yorker referenced Fellini in relation to this film and that might be apt if the Maestro was transposed in space and time to this genre. Worth a look (on Tubi).