The Beast of the City (1932)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Beast of the City (1932) – C. Brabin

Who is the titular Beast of the City? Is it Prohibition-Era gangster Sam Belamonte (Jean Hersholt)? This would be the most obvious choice, given Hollywood’s obsession with gangsters in the Pre-Code days (noting that Prohibition was still in effect when this film was made). Little Caesar and The Public Enemy were released the year before and Scarface just a month or two afterwards, to note some key films in the popular genre. In fact, The Beast of the City is in some ways a reaction to the popularity of the gangster film, with its opening title card including a quote from President Herbert Hoover suggesting that movies should glorify the heroic police rather than the cowardly gangsters. So, is the film’s lead police officer, Fighting Fitzpatrick (Walter Huston), the real Beast of the City? He’s known for not holding back in his crusade against the bootleggers – and the final scene of the movie, at that point the most violent in all of cinema, reveals his willingness to take his fight to the limit. Another candidate might be Fighting Fitz’s brother, Ed (Wally Ford), a vice squad detective who betrays the force after falling for bad dame Daisy Stevens (Jean Harlow).  Of course, Harlow herself is pretty wild here and perhaps even beastly? Although the film plays by the numbers, it still holds interest, not least for its snapshot of a point-in-time (racist though that occasionally is) and its use of actors who appeared in even greater films.

 

We’re All Going to the World’s Fair (2021)

 ☆ ☆ ☆

We’re All Going to the World’s Fair (2021) – J. Schoenbrun

I had to ask myself: “Is the world really like this?”  Director Jane Schoenbrun’s first feature feels like part of the “slow cinema” movement even though it is only 82 minutes long. It is marketed as part of the burgeoning horror genre merger with internet content (possibly related to “creepypasta”). (The marketing may be misleading some viewers who expect something other than an arthouse first feature). Here, teen Casey (Anna Cobb) has signed up to an online role-playing horror game where, as I understand it, participants take the basic premise and then enact it for themselves, creating and uploading videoclips to document their engagement. In this case, the game is called “We’re Going to the World’s Fair” and the premise is that you watch a weird online video (not shown) which subsequently and reportedly has mysterious mental and physical impacts on the viewer.  Given that director Schoenbrun is transgender herself, it is hard not to make a connection here to the kinds of transformations that might take place for those assigned an incorrect gender at birth. But any changes that take place for Casey are relatively subtle – there’s a bit of childish acting out of monster-like behaviour and, more importantly, depression-like symptoms and suicidal ideation.  This attracts the attention of another player, JLB, who demands that Casey skype with him. The film then seems to shift gears to tell the story of their relationship (as it were).  As a viewer, I spent much of my time trying to understand what was happening (not necessarily a bad thing) and, like JLB, it became hard to sort out fantasy and reality. The take-home point seemed to be about the opportunities and risks for attaining social connection and belonging via the internet for lonely and isolated youth (or adults). Are these back alleys and hidden spaces of the internet a good thing or a bad thing (or both at the same time)?  And “Is the world really like this?”

 

Tomorrow is Another Day (1951)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Tomorrow is Another Day (1951) – F. Feist

Steve Cochran plays Bill Clark who has just been released from prison after serving 18 years (entering at age 13 as the youngest ever murderer in his state, we soon learn). He’s lost and confused given how much has changed; the treatment he receives in his hometown makes him leave for New York City. His luck is no better there – he throws himself on taxi-dancer Cathy/Cay Higgins (Ruth Roman), a tough bleached-blonde who finally relents to show him around the city.  Given this is film noir, bad things happen and soon they are on the run. This first half of the film feels genuinely edgy or at least a bit desperate before the film settles down to something resembling domesticity, albeit on a shoestring (the lettuce harvesting scene is startling). Bill never quite loses his wariness although we know he’s a decent human being; on the other hand, Cathy seems to transform from hard-edged to something much softer, in line with her move from blonde to brunette.  Although the film never really gets its edge back (and concludes in ludicrous fashion), there’s enough here to chew on for fans of the genre.  

 

Disclosure Day (2026)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Disclosure Day (2026) – S. Spielberg

I’m looking back at the Disclosure Day poster now – the one with Emily Blunt’s blue eye in the centre.  You can see her eye has some unusual aster-like pattern in it.  Only on second glance did I notice that her eye and parts of her face are framed by the outline of a bird, presumably a cardinal.  Cardinals do have some symbolic meaning, having to do with a message from a lost loved one or perhaps hope in hard times or even Christian references to the blood of Jesus.  There are some nuns in this film but I’m not sure that’s the link (or is it? There’s some baked-on theology here, questioning whether the presence of life out there means God doesn’t love only us or maybe doesn’t exist, but it doesn’t take).  Perhaps the cardinal is bringing a message from Spielberg’s own past – specifically, a reminder of Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977).  In many ways, Disclosure Day feels like a sequel or replay of that earlier film, where Richard Dreyfuss and Melinda Dillon are incomprehensibly drawn to Devil’s Tower, Wyoming, just in time for an alien spacecraft to land (and take Dreyfuss inside – oops, spoiler). In this film, Josh O’Connor and Blunt instead are mysteriously and incomprehensibly drawn to each other (and then to a television studio), in the same way.  Maybe it isn’t that far from Escape from Witch Mountain (1975) where kids with supernatural powers are chased by Donald Pleasance and evil millionaire Ray Milland.  Here, evil corporate mastermind Colin Firth is trying to stop O’Connor and Blunt, particularly O’Connor who is poised to release evidence that the government has been suppressing knowledge of extraterrestrial life (and that crash landing in Roswell, New Mexico).  We see some of the video that he shows his girlfriend, Jane.  It looks just like you would think (if you ever watched an alien autopsy video). Firth also has an alien device that allows him to mind-meld with people, if he can see their social media accounts. I started to get some faint echoes of De Palma’s The Fury (1978) here and there. But whereas De Palma never was afraid of going freaky, Spielberg keeps his masterful control even though the plot itself feels pretty schlocky. He is good at directing the action scenes – at times it feels as though the movie is one long car chase -- and there’s even a Jackie Chan-styled leap from a car to a train too.  The lead characters make some inexplicable choices though – or really their choices are being guided by, uh, aliens. (Most other characters don’t really have much to do).  Are aliens the Macguffin here? Knowing that Spielberg and writer David Koepp started with the ending (and that youtube clip where the air force flyers see something inexplicable buzz them) and then moved backwards trying to figure out a plot that gets you there tells you a lot about this film.   

 

One Girl’s Confession (1953)

 ☆ ☆ ☆

One Girl’s Confession (1953) – H. Haas

Hugo Haas was a Czech actor who fled the Nazis to the US and became a minor league B-movie writer and director, often starring in his films in supporting roles to his female stars. (Apparently, he was a much bigger star in the 1930s before moving to Hollywood). The films he wrote and directed are known as the Fate and Irony cycle – they seem to have a biggish following. This one, often cited as the best, stars Cleo Moore, a blonde bombshell ogled by other characters and the camera alike (her career does not seem to have taken off and she died young, of a heart attack).  Here, she plays a waitress who steals 25 G’s from her employer (because he had exploited her father in business) and promptly turns herself in to the police (after hiding the money).  After her release from prison (good behaviour), she meets up with Haas, who plays a seedy and sleazy gambler who owns a café/bar.  She agrees to work for him (after fending off his advances) while laying low awaiting her chance to retrieve the money from its hiding place.  A local fisherman woos her but she holds back.  After this, things take a turn for the worse, partly due to Cleo/Mary’s misperceptions – hence the “fate and irony” label. Overall, the acting is pretty flat (apart from Haas himself who is charismatic, if sleazy), the sets are low budget, and the plot feels far too leisurely for a 75-minute feature. I’m not sure I understand the appeal… but perhaps, for the 1950s, there is a sense of female empowerment here? 

 

Are You Lonesome Tonight? (2021)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Are You Lonesome Tonight? (2021) – S. Wen

I guess Eddie Peng may be a star in Taiwan and this may have been a vehicle especially for him, directed with a good deal of panache by first timer Shipei Wen.  Peng plays an air conditioner repairman, Xue-ming, a loner it seems, and, in 1997, he hits a man with his van; instead of leaving him dead in the road, he drags him into the tall grass by the river. We then follow Peng as he suffers moral recriminations, especially when he sees the missing person flyers being distributed by Sylvia Chang, playing the victim’s wife, Mrs Liang. She’s much older but still kind of sexy.  When Xue-ming arranges to fix her air conditioner, you don’t know what’s going to happen. The film feels humid and languid. Are we heading in the direction of Visconti’s Ossessione? Fate hangs heavy on Xue-ming and on the film – from the opening shot, we know he ends up in prison. He lurks around Mrs. Liang’s neighbourhood. The title comes from a scene in a half-deserted bar where a blind singer tells Xue-ming that he once sang a song for the dead man and he will sing it again (“Are You Lonesome Tonight?”). It seems the victim may have been involved in the criminal underworld. Xue-ming overhears people talking and starts to piece things together.  Eddie Peng lost weight for this film and his method acting shows. It’s a slow-burning neo-noir.  Director Wen keeps things visually interesting, with a grungy mise-en-scene and lots of shots from unusual angles or using reflections; lighting and colour schemes reflect the noir theme. Like the Coens’ Blood Simple, this doesn’t try to innovate, necessarily, it tries to emulate.  A bleary-eyed detective and a cold-blooded killer show up rather matter-of-factly later in the picture. No surprises here but Xue-ming’s moral code keeps him on solid footing even as these complications enter.   

 

Hokum (2026)

 ☆ ☆ ☆

Hokum (2026) – D. McCarthy

Irish director Damian McCarthy’s third film – and the first after his breakthrough success with Oddity (2024; streaming everywhere near you) – stars Adam Scott, who I guess is an American TV star, but I’d never heard of him (although his latest Netflix film does seem to star Robert De Niro, so “my bad”).  Scott plays a decidedly unlikeable character, Ohm Bauman, a successful writer but rude and willing to punch down on those less fortunate. He’s come to this remote Irish hotel to bury his parents’ ashes, since this was where they had honeymooned decades earlier. However, the honeymoon suite is locked up and no one is allowed to enter, given that there is supposed to be a witch trapped inside.  Bauman isn’t against breaking in but he’s pretty ambivalent about everything (and haunted, perhaps literally, by events earlier in his life). McCarthy creates a lot of atmosphere in this old hotel, especially once we are actually in the honeymoon suite and its environs, but the characters remain rather thin. Throw in a few jump scares and some folk horror references and you’ve got a solid horror outing – full of dread and spooky without requiring gore -- but not something I need to watch again.