Following (1998)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Following (1998) – C. Nolan

Christopher Nolan’s low-budget B&W debut feature is a noir-ish trial run for his more successful bigger budget chronological cut-ups (such as Memento, 2000, or Inception, 2010). A young man who may be called Bill (Jeremy Theobald) decides to follow strangers on a whim, possibly because he’s bored, possibly to find fodder for his hoped-for writing career.  This is a great weird premise. However, soon the plot shifts when Bill is confronted by one of his targets (Alex Haw), who turns out to be a philosophical thief, robbing people’s apartments more to see what sort of things they have hidden away than to make money. As the film progresses, we start to see short inter-cut scenes (Bill with shorter hair in a suit, Bill with a swollen eye, etc.) hinting at some future or past events. We even see Bill interacting with a potential femme fatale (Lucy Russell) before we see him rob her flat. When the usual Nolan (or film noir) twists begin to pile up, it’s slightly difficult to keep track of what’s happened (the DVD version apparently contains a cut that reshuffles scenes into chronological order).  But for 70 minutes, it’s easy to take, even if the overall feel is sort of amateurish (although that does add a weird sensation to the proceedings, as if it might be real).  

 

The Long Hair of Death (1964)

 ☆ ☆ ☆

The Long Hair of Death (1964) – A. Margheriti

Mario Bava’s Black Sunday (1960) starring Barbara Steele is a personal favourite and also a template of sorts for this film. In fact, it seems as though Italian horror spent the entire decade in mildewy damp castles (such as 1964’s Castle of Blood, also directed by Anthony Dawson a. k. a. Antonio Margheriti, probably shot on the same set as this one) with Steele as the haunted heroine or more likely an evil witch or ghost or demon (sometimes playing more than one role). As with Hammer films in the U. K., the sets and costumes – the mise en scene as a whole – are often the highpoint of the film with the plot a gauzy tissue holding together a few shocking setpieces.  The Long Hair of Death (great title!) begins and ends with people getting burnt to death.  In between, it’s a bit dreary.  The plot goes something like this: a suspected witch is burnt at the stake by a debauched lord with lecherous intent; her older daughter (Steele) is also killed but a much younger daughter lives and is adopted by the evil lord’s family, eventually marrying his spoiled son.  And then, somehow, Steele returns (from the dead) and leads the lord’s son astray and through a lot of secret passages. The film looks great but I recommend you start with Black Sunday (or even Castle of Blood) first.

 

Escape from Alcatraz (1979)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Escape from Alcatraz (1979) – D. Siegel

Ah, the prison film – it has such a long history and so many clichés.  Escape from Alcatraz does not really eschew any of these but as crisply directed by Don Siegel and starring Clint Eastwood in his macho prime, it’s a solid effort.  But does it live up to the masterworks of the genre? (Maybe not). I’m thinking of Bresson’s A Man Escaped (1956), Becker’s Le Trou (1960), Dassin’s Brute Force (1947), and maybe Caged (1950) starring Eleanor Parker.  Obviously, there are a lot of variations on the theme (e.g., The Shawshank Redemption, 1994) and modern versions might be even more brutal (e.g., A Prophet, 2009).  But Alcatraz is based on a true story with an open-ended conclusion: the escapees were never found (presumed drowned but who knows?). So, since we know where the story ends up (as forecast by the title), this is really all about the mechanics of the escape (similar to the Bresson and Becker films), with a little bit of relationship building and character development (but not much!).   

 

A Letter to Three Wives (1949)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

A Letter to Three Wives (1949) – J. L. Mankiewicz

I missed the first five minutes or so and came in just when the three wives (Jeanne Crain, Linda Darnell, and Ann Sothern) received the letter in question from idealized but never seen “Addie Ross” who claims that she has run away with one of their husbands (Jeffrey Lynn, Paul Douglas, and Kirk Douglas, respectively.  Joseph L. Mankiewicz won Oscars for best screenplay and best director (who then did it again for All About Eve, the following year).  As the three are just departing on a picnic day-trip as volunteers for under-privileged children, they get to spend the day ruminating about whether their husbands have left them.  Viewers are therefore treated to three extended flashbacks providing “evidence” (based on the anxieties of our heroines) as to why each husband might have grounds to leave.  As such, we are treated to three very different relationships – a la 1950s – and have the ability to guess who it might be.  When the ladies return home, one of them discovers her husband is away – but there’s a sudden twist that clouds whether he’s really run away with Addie or not.  Apparently General Douglas McArthur wrote to Mankiewicz to try to clear this up and was told everything he needed to know was there on the screen!  It’s melodrama to be sure but superbly acted (Paul Douglas is particularly impressive in his feature debut).

 

Blue Moon (2025)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Blue Moon (2025) – R. Linklater

Ethan Hawke is impressive in a virtual transformation into lyricist Lorenz Hart (one half of the Rodgers and Hart duo responsible for popular standards and Broadway musicals) on a particular evening at Sardi’s in New York City in 1943. The occasion is the opening night for Oklahoma!, a new musical by Rodgers and his new collaborator Oscar Hammerstein. Hart is a witty raconteur keeping the bartender and pianist and occasional waitress or hat check girl entertained, as they await the arrival of the cast and crew post-show.  He’s dirty-minded but erudite, displaying an impressive memory for lyrics and writing (his own and others), particularly when chatting up author E. B. White who sits in a corner of the bar.  Not unlike the Before Trilogy (e.g., Before Sunrise, 1995), Blue Moon is all talk – but without Julie Delpy, this is entirely Hawke’s show.  Despite his humor and witty stories, it is easy to see that Hart is deep down a sad and lonely figure, fixated on a possible romance with 20-year-old Margaret Qualley (Hart is 47 but looks older) that is clearly never-to-be.  When Rodgers arrives, it’s sad to see Hart’s thinly veiled desperation, as they discuss possible future shows. Obviously, Hart has made a hash of his life because of alcohol, nightlife, and general dissolution. Hawke and Linklater keep viewers absorbed despite the lack of action, even if there’s the occasional distraction caused by clumsy attempts to make Hawke look as short as Hart apparently was.  Enjoyable, particularly if you are a Broadway musical afficionado (and are prepared for salty talk).   

 

The Devil and Miss Jones (1941)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Devil and Miss Jones (1941) – S. Wood

In the ‘30s and ‘40s, Jean Arthur starred in films for Capra, Hawks, and George Stevens, as well as Mitchell Leisen/Preston Sturges, and, for this film, Sam Wood. She’s always a delight.  Wood, however, was an ultra-right-winger who testified before the House Un-American Activities Committee in 1947 – which makes absolutely no sense when it comes to this film which strongly advocates for unions and the rights of workers – in a gentle comedic way.  So much for auteur theory (at least under the studio system).  Jean Arthur wasn’t the only reason we tuned into this one on TCM – it also stars Charles Coburn (who was nominated for the Best Supporting Actor Oscar but didn’t win).  He’s the wealthiest man in America (or at least New York) who finds that he still owns a Manhattan department store and worse, that the workers are agitating for their rights, including by hanging a dummy of Coburn in effigy.  However, Coburn is a man who values his privacy, so no one really knows what he looks like.  This allows him to go undercover as a shoe salesman to try to identify the rabble rousers on his staff with the intention to fire them. Instead, he makes friends with Jean Arthur (also in the shoe department) and her boyfriend Robert Cummings (the main union organizer) and Spring Byington (who becomes his love interest).  Although not really laugh out-loud funny, Coburn’s reactions to the situations he finds himself in (while pretending not to be himself) are always amusing and the film has plenty of charm and a message we shouldn’t forget. Escapist fare for challenging times.

 

If I Had Legs, I’d Kick You (2025)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

If I Had Legs, I’d Kick You (2025) – M. Bronstein

Rose Byrne has been nominated for the Best Actress Oscar and this film is entirely hers.  It’s also a return to directing for Mary Bronstein after 15 or so years off.  Bronstein (who also plays a small role as a pediatric doctor) tends to keep the camera tightly framed around Byrne who plays Linda, a therapist at the end of her rope, coping with a seriously ill young daughter, a husband away on a work trip, a handful of peculiar clients, an awkward relationship with her own therapist (played by Conan O’Brien), and a burst pipe/mysterious hole in the ceiling of her apartment that has left her living out of a cheap motel. To say the film is chaotic and intense might be an understatement – there may need to be a warning to anyone suffering anxiety to avoid it.  It’s impossible to do anything other than to let the film’s cascading hassles wash over you. Byrne has our sympathy/empathy even when she doesn’t seem to act in her own best interest. At one point, she states that she’s the type of person who never should have become a mother -- but viewers might be right to question this and instead ponder whether the circumstances of her life might overwhelm anyone. If some of this is intended to be “dark comedy” (when some events are too ludicrous to believe), it is dark indeed.  Kudos to Rose Byrne.