Sons of the Desert (1933)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Sons of the Desert (1933) – W. Seiter

Laurel and Hardy are ridiculous idiots – and, as usual, they are the butt of every joke.  Ollie is the “mastermind” of their plan to dupe their wives to travel to Chicago for a convention of their titular fraternal order.  Stan goes along for the ride but can’t quite grasp the cover story.  He also eats some wax fruit.  One thing inevitably leads to another and their wives find out.  But the fun is all in getting to that point (the Chicago scenes, featuring Charley Chase and some pre-code dancers are surprisingly brief).  Sure, there is slapstick but the laughs derive equally from Laurel’s malapropisms and Hardy’s slow burn.  The wives (Mae Busch & Dorothy Christy) hold their own without becoming caricatures.  What little plot there is allows the gags to be strung together fairly well.  Good for a few chortles.

Beyond the Clouds (1995)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Beyond the Clouds (1995) – M. Antonioni & W. Wenders

Beautiful people in beautiful locations – but is it Antonioni?  Well, of course, it is – this is the great director’s final feature done in partnership with Wim Wenders (in order to secure insurance coverage following his 1985 stroke).  But does it connect with Antonioni’s other films?  Mysteriously, it does – although this only becomes apparent as the film slowly unwinds through its four incomplete anecdotes, charting relationships between men and women (often in a soft-core state of undress) who invariably do not connect.  Or do they?  Except for the Peter Weller adultery sequence (where both Fanny Ardant and Chiara Caselli appear distraught), the characters seem nonplussed as their interactions go nowhere.  John Malkovich floats above it all, quoting from Antonioni’s book (as his stand in), holding the stories together, peering into windows, and engaging with Sophie Marceau.  None of this is particularly satisfying on its own but Antonioni’s eye for the image and a melancholy romantic soundtrack slowly work some magic, elevating the film above others of its type but nowhere near the masterworks of the director’s richest period (‘50s through ‘70s).

Anomalisa (2015)

☆ ☆ ☆

Anomalisa (2015) – D. Johnson & C. Kaufman

Whereas I appreciate the “craft” involved in creating this stop-motion puppet movie, the end result is far too much of a weird downer for my tastes at the moment.  I generally enjoy the weird and have enjoyed some of Charlie Kaufman’s earlier efforts (Being John Malkovich, Adaptation, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, even Synecdoche New York). However, apart from the protagonists being puppets, the conceit here (that all the minor characters are voiced by Tom Noonan, male or female, and have the same facial features) makes the film feel flatter rather than heightens its appeal.  The plot, which tracks a man staying in a hotel for a conference across a single night during which he questions his past, present, and possible future relationships, is unafraid to wallow in psychological insecurity and distress.  But that’s not an altogether enjoyable way to spend 90 minutes (and a realistically awkward puppet sex scene is something I could probably have done without).  So, are there moments of authentic humanity here?  I think so – and David Thewlis and Jennifer Jason Leigh do bring the puppets to life – but the ratio of mundanity to surrealism was far too high.

  

Minnie and Moskowitz (1971)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Minnie and Moskowitz (1971) – J. Cassavetes

Unmistakably a Cassavetes picture, shot in that vérité, quasi-improvised style that he made his own, Minnie and Moskowitz follows two odd characters (played by Gena Rowlands and Seymour Cassel, respectively) as they meet and fall in love.  If that sounds like straightforward romantic comedy, the actual film is anything but.  In Cassavetes’ universe, people seem to have serious problems with their emotional regulation.  Moskowitz especially runs hot and hot, while Minnie tends toward cool (so much so that she wears her sunglasses indoors and at night).  And whether this is a comedy at all is an open question:  I found the interactions between people to be predominantly tense, probably because of all the norm violations by Moskowitz.  Minnie seems to have a similar reaction but comes around to his honesty and openness.  What you see is what you get.  Apart from the central duo, we are also treated to a number of bizarre monologues from character actors such as Timothy Carey (a well-known weirdo) and Val Avery – these do verge on the comic.  Cassavetes also makes a sly reference to 2001: A Space Odyssey.  In other words, the film is looser and less serious than the tougher dramas Cassavetes is known for (Faces, A Woman Under the Influence).  As it careens to a conclusion, things fall apart a bit, as the actors break character to show the making of the film to have been a fun family affair (Rowlands and Cassavetes, who also makes an appearance as a true heel, were married and their mothers appear in the film).

City That Never Sleeps (1953)

☆ ☆ ☆

City That Never Sleeps (1953) – J. H. Auer

It’s Chicago actually.  Gig Young is a cop who is fed up with his life – he plans to ditch his wife for a stripper, quit the force, and move to California.  In order to get the dough to do so, he throws in with corrupt lawyer Edward Arnold, promising to “arrest” bad magician William Talman and drive him to Indiana where he is wanted for a more serious crime.  Things do go pear-shaped but watching over him is the “spirit of the city” Chill Wills who takes over as his partner when his real one is home sick with an earache.  Wills doesn’t prevent any crimes/murders but he does remind Young about the importance of his job and of the police in society.  They do some helpful things.  The film is a true noir, shot on location in high contrast black and white, showing dark alleys, a strip club, corrupt rich guys, bitchy Marie Windsor, bad mistakes, and depressing violence.  Although the leads are a bit ho-hum, Talman made a great noir baddie (see also Armed Car Robbery, 1950, and The Hitch-hiker, 1953) before he graduated to Perry Mason’s nemesis (district attorney Hamilton Burger).  Worth a look.

  

Tombs of the Blind Dead (1972)

☆ ☆

Tombs of the Blind Dead (1972) – A. de Ossorio

I was looking for creepy and this story about the accursed Templar Knights who were executed and had their eyes pecked out by birds but then came back from the dead to haunt their abandoned medieval Portuguese town seemed just the ticket.  Reviews suggested that the gore was on the lighter side for this kind of Euro-Horror and that’s true enough – however, a nasty rape scene was not what I wanted.  Although the human rapist does meet his doom at the bony hands/teeth of the Satanic knights, this does not justify sexual violence against women.  Considering the film without that scene – and, apparently, it was edited out in some prints – the film does have a spooky quality.  These lumbering blind zombies and their slow-motion horses are rather relentless.  Of course, as could be expected, the acting is not strong and the actions of the characters are implausible at best.  Moreover, the Foley artists were really working overtime (I’m reminded of the recent and recommended Berberian Sound Studio, 2012).  But I can’t recommend this film given its content -- not unusual for horror during this time period and in Europe, but still unwelcome.  I just wanted creepy.    

Black Moon (1975)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Black Moon (1975) – L. Malle

Befuddling…in a good way; although the film could also be maddening to those trying hard to understand it (or who require a more linear plot).  A young blonde girl straight out of Alice in Wonderland is driving through what appears to be a warzone (and the war might just be between men and women).  After some unpleasant encounters, she makes it to a seemingly abandoned farmhouse (seemingly in France, although everyone speaks English; in reality it was Malle’s home).  Upstairs she finds an old woman talking to a giant rat (or possibly a marsupial of some kind); the woman uses a radio to communicate with others and seeks to keep Lily (not Alice) prisoner.  And then she seems to die and Lily escapes out the window where she sees Joe Dallesandro and a unicorn.  Later, Joe’s twin sister breastfeeds the old woman; subsequently Lily does the same and also maybe breastfeeds the unicorn.  Of course, this is all surreal, but played rather straight.  There are farm animals and naked children everywhere.  The animals sometimes speak (including the unicorn).  The landscape is autumnal and beautiful (shot by Sven Nykvist).  There is no clear way to understand the plot although some have alluded to a coming-of-age or sexual awakening that is occurring for Lily.  That is, if this is a dream to be interpreted psychoanalytically, then sometimes a unicorn is not a unicorn but Little Joe is the more obvious symbol.  Then again, a black moon in pagan times may be a chaotic period or a time for heightened magic.  Both are happening here.  Moreover, the backdrop of the seventies and the women’s movement and other social changes may have also influenced Malle.  Or so they say.  But your guess is as good as mine!  

Thunderbolt (1995)

☆ ☆ ☆

Thunderbolt (1995) – G. Chan

Jackie Chan always wanted to prove that he could star in serious fare and not only action comedies.  After Rumble in the Bronx (1995) proved a surprise hit in the US, Chan made this action-drama that never made it to American cinemas.  (His return to action comedies proved a better career move and Rush Hour finally broke him through in the States in 1998).  Here, Jackie plays a mechanic who works with the police to get illegally modified cars off the Hong Kong streets.  He pisses off a criminal race car driver who kidnaps his sisters and challenges Jackie to a race (in Sendai, Japan) in order to get them released.  There is a fair amount of hand-to-hand combat (but apparently Jackie used a stunt double in some scenes due to a sprained ankle); however, most of the action depends on fast moving cars that sometimes crash and blow up.  I noticed in the credits that Sammo Hung was one of the stunt drivers (!?!).  As usual with Jackie’s films, the plot is secondary (and strains credibility) and the stunts are primary.  They do hold one’s attention but the decision to go “gritty” rather than “funny” means that the film suffers as a whole.  

The Sea Inside (2004)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Sea Inside (2004) – A. Amenábar

Javier Bardem turns in another remarkable performance as Ramon Sampedro, a paraplegic right-to-die campaigner from Spain.  Acting primarily from the neck up (in middle-aged make-up), he is charismatic, bitter, and steadfast in his desire to die.  Director Alejandro Amenábar inserts Ramon into his relationship context: brother and sister-in-law taking care of him, impressionable nephew, and two potential love interests.  There are also flashbacks to his accident (diving into a shallow tidepool) and fantasy sequences where he is no longer paralysed (which break the film out of its one-room set and given the cinematographer a chance to zoom over the beautiful landscape).  Of course, all viewers will be waiting for the inevitable money shot (Sampedro died in 1998).  The arguments about euthanasia seem to take a backseat to the human drama in the foreground, except for a comical argument between a paraplegic priest and Sampedro shouted up and down the stairs (due to wheelchair inaccessibility).  I think the film would have been better as a whole if Amenábar had found a way to get more philosophical and political substance into it, but there is no denying Bardem.      

The Unholy Three (1925)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Unholy Three (1925) – T. Browning

Lon Chaney (Sr.) plays a ventriloquist who joins with the strong man (Victor McLaughlin) and a little person (Harry Earles, who later appeared in Browning’s Freaks) to create a band of thieves, the Unholy Three, when the circus breaks up.  As a front, Chaney opens a bird store, disguised as an old woman, and they rob rich customers who buy parrots; parrots who funnily talk when they are in the store but never talk at home – until Granny (Chaney) comes to visit them (and case their homes).  But things begin to go sour when Chaney’s girl (Mae Busch) falls for the employee of the bird shop and the other members of the Unholy Three kill someone in the midst of a robbery.  They try to pin it on the employee, resulting in a court case with his life hanging in the balance.  A gigantic and ferocious chimp plays a key role in the action (apparently shot with camera tricks to look larger). The whole shebang is well-paced (as in all silence features, the music plays a big role) and suspenseful – but then it wraps up with an unexpected happy ending. Passed by the Board of Censors indeed!  Browning and Chaney push things into much darker territory subsequently with The Unknown (1927), also set in a circus and featuring Chaney as an armless knife-thrower and Joan Crawford as the woman he desires – the latter film is more highly recommended.

Tattooed Life (1965)

☆ ☆ ☆

Tattooed Life (1965) – S. Suzuki

Seijun Suzuki (who died earlier this year at 93) was famous for his wackily surreal yakuza flicks (Tokyo Drifter, 1966, and Branded to Kill, 1967), so it comes as some surprise that this earlier film is rather lacklustre.  That isn’t to say it doesn’t contain some inventive sequences, particularly the climactic battle at the end, but too often it plays like a 1950s drama splashed on the widescreen but with little edge to the proceedings.  Or perhaps I was just disappointed relative to my expectations– there is eccentricity here but not enough!  Hideki Takahashi plays Tetsu, a yakuza everyman on the run after he and his brother Kenji (Kotobuki Hananomoto) kill a rival gangster.  Tetsu has been raising (and sheltering) sensitive Kenji since their parents died but Kenji has ideas of his own once they settle down as small town construction workers (coveting the boss’s wife and causing problems as a result).  In the end, Tetsu reveals his yakuza past (previously hidden) and stands up against another rival gang threatening to take over the construction business (after Kenji meets foul play).  And thus we get the climactic battle, shown from all angles.  Start elsewhere with Suzuki (or perhaps start here and be pleasantly surprised by the other films).

The Spider Woman (1944)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Spider Woman (1944) – R. W. Neill

Action-packed instalment of the long running series with Basil Rathbone as Sherlock Holmes and Nigel Bruce as Dr. Watson.  Holmes very nearly meets his match in Gayle Sondergaard’s Spider Woman (potentially drawn from Conan Doyle’s Irene Adler who was Holmes’ great female adversary and possible love interest).  She almost does him in on more than one occasion as he attempts to solve the mystery of the “pajama suicides” – men awakening in the middle of the night and killing themselves.  Of course, Holmes suspects foul play – and he both fakes his own death and goes undercover as an Indian gambler to try to gather evidence about the crimes.  In the end, the script draws liberally from several Conan Doyle’s stories and also inserts Hitler, Mussolini, and Hirohito into the plot (as targets at a shooting gallery) as a tip of the hat to modern wartime audiences.  Bruce is his usual bumbling self, Rathbone is cunning and playful, and Dennis Hoey is all bluster (though with a sentimental streak) as Inspector Lestrade.  The plot has enough twists and moves swiftly. Indeed, all of the elements of the franchise are here and they make for rip-roaring fun.

Cloak and Dagger (1946)

☆ ☆ ☆

Cloak and Dagger (1946) – F. Lang

Lesser Fritz Lang effort that was apparently subject to some post-production tampering by Warner Brothers to remove some pointed anti-nuclear bomb sentiment (presumably since the US had already dropped the bomb and showed no intention of backing away from holding a nuclear arsenal).  Gary Cooper plays a nuclear scientist who is recruited by the OSS to go overseas to Europe to contact other nuclear scientists who have been forced by the Nazis to contribute to their bomb-making initiative.  Things move reasonably swiftly until the action moves from Switzerland to Italy and Cooper meets his love interest (Lilli Palmer).  But then everything drags as they wait for offscreen events to occur.  Basically, the Allies hope to convince an Italian nuclear physicist to escape with them but they need to first free his daughter who is being held hostage by the Nazis.  Why we don’t get to see this action beats me but instead we hang out with Cooper (who is not the most dynamic of actors at this stage in his career) and Palmer.  The film wraps up soon after and when I discovered later that a fourth reel may have been deleted, this made sense.  However, even so, the film doesn’t really seem to link with any of Lang’s major themes (a pessimistic view of societal forces that entrap the protagonist – as in the classic films noir that he directed); instead it is a straight adventure yarn, albeit with some serious consequences.