My Name is Julia Ross (1945)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

My Name is Julia Ross (1945) – J. H. Lewis

Director Joseph H. Lewis may be best known for Gun Crazy (1950) or The Big Combo (1955), two great noirs, but this 65-minute thriller from 1945 is also a gem. Nina Foch plays the title character who is tricked into accepting employment as a live-in secretary for the Hughes family (mother Dame May Whitty and son George Macready) who subsequently try to gaslight her into thinking she is someone else.  Essentially she is trapped in the Hughes mansion and everyone is led to believe she is crazy.  Great premise but not for those prone to paranoia.  Macready is a perfect edgy villain (with Gilda and Paths of Glory yet to come) but it is a shock to see Dame May Whitty on the dark side, since I identify her strongly with her heroic spy in The Lady Vanishes.  As directed by Lewis, this is a tight film, suspenseful, and ultimately fulfilling.  Is it noir? Perhaps but Julia Ross does not deserve any of this (perhaps that is exactly why it is noir!). 

 

Exhuma (2024)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Exhuma (2024) – J.-H. Jang

Can I be forgiven for not recognising the lead actor from Oldboy (2003), Min-sik Choi, in the title role?  Perhaps I haven’t spent as much time with Korean cinema as I should (although I have seen Oldboy, of course, and Choi is twenty years older, after all).  In this film, Choi plays a “geomancer” who uses the principles of feng shui to recommend gravesites for wealthy clients with partner Hae-jin Yoo, who seems to be a Christian funeral director.  They sometimes work with the shaman team, Go-eun Kim and Do-hyun Lee, who get engaged to purify unclean areas or when there are unruly spirits with which to contend.  The film introduces the characters as though this was the pilot for a TV crime series and in some ways, it feels like it could very easily spin-off into an ongoing TV show.  The film itself might be broken into two episodes, with the first focused on an elderly patriarch ghost who, once accidentally released from his sealed coffin, seeks to revenge himself on the descendants who wronged him (including a baby in the USA), and the second focused on a demonic samurai ghost leftover from the Japanese occupation who protects a particular plot of land, slaying anyone who comes near, once freed. (Including a Japanese villain seems to be standard practice for Korean films, not unlike the Nazi villains who still crop up in Hollywood; not sure this is useful for world peace at this stage, but alas). The film wants to be spooky/scary, wants to be a folk horror describing Korean traditions, wants to endear us to the central team, and desires a linear plot with clear resolution (and hope for a sequel or two – or that TV series?).  It mostly succeeds but misses that magic ingredient that might elevate it further into a horror classic.  I’d tune in each week though.

 

The Ninth Gate (1999)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Ninth Gate (1999) – R. Polanski

Is this a guilty pleasure?  I’ve returned to it more than once -- but it isn’t exactly challenging fare and some may call it trashy.  Somehow director Roman Polanski evokes both the detective story and the devil (providing nods to two of his greatest films, Chinatown and Rosemary’s Baby); a more recent antecedent is probably Alan Parker’s Angel Heart (1987).  Frank Langella hires freelance bookdealer Johnny Depp to determine whether his copy of a rare book (“The Nine Gates…”), a book apparently used to conjure Lucifer himself, is authentic or not, as compared to two other copies in Europe.  How Langella got the book away from Lena Olin whose husband has just committed suicide isn’t really clear but she wants it back and pursues Depp for it.  So, they all run to Europe where Depp visits each of the other book owners, unravelling the mystery of the books while also being stalked by a mysterious witchy woman (Emmanuelle Seigneur, Polanski’s wife) and leaving death and destruction in his wake.  Of course, we know that Depp isn’t really pulling the strings here but what mysterious forces are driving things (whether controlled by Langella or someone/something darker) remains out of the viewer’s grasp. And the film ends at a sort of beginning (much like Rosemary’s Baby again?), leaving viewers only to imagine what comes next.  Based on Arturo Pérez-Reverte’s The Club Dumas.  

 

The Mystery of Chess Boxing (1979)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Mystery of Chess Boxing (1979) – J. Kuo

Not from the Shaw Brothers’ studio nor from Golden Harvest, this independent production from Joseph Kuo famously inspired the Wu-Tang Clan (the main baddie is called Ghost Face Killer).  But what struck me first is how closely this film is modelled on Jackie Chan’s earlier hit (for Golden Harvest), Snake in the Eagle’s Shadow (1978).  Li Yi-Min takes the Jackie role of wet-behind-the-ears youngster who wants to join a famous kung fu school but is bullied by the senior student and then trained in secret by the school’s cook – played by Simon Yuen, who also comically played the old man who trained Jackie in both Snake in the Eagle’s Shadow and Drunken Master (also 1978).  I found out today that Simon Yuen (Yuen Siu-tien) was also the real-life father of director Yuen Woo-ping who did the choreography for the fight scenes in The Matrix (1999).  In any event, The Mystery of Chess Boxing follows the same general plot of Snake in that Li Yi-Min ultimately needs to fight the final boss (Kuan Wu-lung) with the help of his ailing master (Jack Long); perhaps it isn’t entirely fair that they double-team the Ghost Face Killer, but he needs defeating by any means necessary.  The old-school hand-to-hand fighting here is outstanding which helps the film rise above its copycat origins; the comedy feels ordinary at best (but as I only had access to a dubbed version, that brought some unintentional (?) humor too). Chess boxing itself, as a new style, does not really make much sense!

 

Wife (1953)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Wife (1953) – M. Naruse

If this were the first film by Mikio Naruse that you watched, it might floor you.  But as someone who has now seen 20 of his films, I think it isn’t quite in a class with his best films.  Yes, it draws you into its world and its ordinary characters experiencing ordinary human drama. It might be interesting for you to see Japan in the 1950s, where characters still talk about having lost their husbands or brothers in the war. Some women still wear kimonos but others have taken to Western dress. There’s a certain desperation about economic circumstances that pervades this film (the central couple runs a boarding house) and many of Naruse’s works (in almost every one of his films characters talk about money). This is heightened because women are the leads and focus of his oeuvre.  His best films often star Hideko Takamine (or sometimes Setsuko Hara, who was Ozu’s muse) but this one features Mieko Takamine (no relation) who took the part when Hideko declined.  She plays the titular wife and Ken Uehara (another Naruse regular) plays her husband.  Their 10-year-old childless marriage is coming apart.  Both are unsatisfied with the other and with their lives.  Eventually the husband starts an affair with his widowed secretary which continues even after she moves away to Osaka (from Tokyo), when they travel to visit each other.  The film shows us what happens when the wife finds out.  Naruse’s point-of-view seems to be that everyone has their reasons and no one is completely right or wrong.  Yet, society has (or had) strong views about this situation and how it should play out. Naruse’s films have a strong vein of pessimism and there’s a melancholy feel that can’t be avoided when you see how society’s shackles block characters from pursuing their dreams. People end up in dead ends and inertia keeps them there.  It’s no different in Wife but the bluntness of the ending might catch you by surprise (if this were your first Naruse film).  For mature audiences.

Groundhog Day (1993)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Groundhog Day (1993) – H. Ramis

I suspect it has been 30 years since I saw Groundhog Day, which does cast a different light on its take home message (that we need to live each day as if it is the only one we get – or possibly to use each day productively so they add up to a more meaningful life).  Have I achieved this? (Does anyone ever feel they have?). The plot famously involves arrogant weatherman Phil Connors (Bill Murray) getting stuck in a time-loop where he has to re-live the same day over and over and over again; that day is Groundhog Day (2 February – also my wife’s birthday) with its portentous omen about the future being wintry or nice depending on whether the rodent sees his shadow. The film takes place in Punxsutawney, PA (NE of Pittsburgh), a small town, presented as they were in the early ‘90s.  As directed by Harold Ramis (who takes a brief cameo), it is pretty mundane, even cheesily cringeworthy. Phil is above it all, but his new producer Rita (Andie MacDowall) is on a different wavelength, open to finding positivity in everything.  Cameraman Larry (Chris Elliott) is around to provide Phil-deflating comments.  So, what would you do if each day was just a repeat of the previous day with every moment fully predictable? The screenplay (by Ramis and Danny Rubin) intelligently conjectures what the average person might do: freak out, then take advantage of the lack of consequences for one’s actions, then fall into despair, then try to use time more wisely (to learn skills and stuff).  Phil decides to pursue Rita who he comes to know in depth (even if, for her, it is still just one day), with expected results, given she thinks he is an arrogant jerk. But eventually, he grows as a person, becoming his better self.  This helps him with Rita.  Amon (aged 13) felt the film was corny.  I liked the “high concept” but it feels dated, sentimental, with little edge (and not really too many laughs).  That said, it is probably a good thing to take a moment to reflect on a more existential way of being. In this way, the film “works”.

The Red House (1947)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Red House (1947) – D. Daves

The Red House is loosely categorized as “film noir” (a very broad category, as we know) but it begins rather cheerfully with some high school kids (real ages: 19 to 24) flirting on the school bus (albeit with a voiceover noting that kids take longer to finish school because of farm chores that take them away from their studies).  Nath Storm (Lon McCallister) is one of those kids who takes up a job working for odd Pete Morgan (Edward G. Robinson) and his sister (Judith Anderson) at the insistence of their adopted daughter Meg (Allene Roberts), even though Nath is going steady with Tibby Rinton (Julie London), a “bad girl” who also flirts with older Teller (Rory Calhoun).  So far, a bit ordinary, unusual family structure aside.  But when Nath tells Pete about his plans to take a shortcut through the nearby woods to get home in the evening, Pete over-reacts (there are rumours that his wooden leg is a result of an incident in the woods).  Of course, Nath goes anyway and something whacks him on the back of the head.  This only makes him want to investigate further, especially after hearing about a haunted red house somewhere in the middle of the woods.  He and Meg and Tibby search for it to no avail.  Later Meg sneaks in there on her own and gets shot at.  All the while, Pete may be losing his grip on reality, Tibby hooks up with Teller, and Nath is falling for Meg (who is keen).  Director Delmer Daves builds up suspense around the red house and its secret, somehow making it seem almost Freudian, with the not-so-hidden sexual motivations of the teens and the creepy obsession of Pete for Meg hanging heavy over the proceedings. The teens want to find the red house but Pete won’t let them!  The tension builds and eventually we learn all, which fortunately doesn’t feel anti-climactic but more like an inevitable culmination as the pieces fall into place.  Uneven but weird enough to recommend.