The Raven (1963)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Raven (1963) – R. Corman

Somewhere in the middle of the series of Poe films that Roger Corman did with Vincent Price comes this (not exactly faithful) version of The Raven.  Sure, we start off with some lines from the famous poem – and the black bird in question is soon tap-tap-tapping on the window – but everything quickly devolves into delightful silliness.  It turns out that the raven is actually Peter Lorre, a magician/wizard who has been enchanted by the powerful head of their order, played by Boris Karloff.  He needs Vincent Price’s help to change him back (with a potion) and once that’s happened, the two of them are off to face Karloff who apparently has stolen the soul of poor dead Lenore (Hazel Court).  They are joined by Price’s daughter (Olive Sturgess) and Lorre’s son (Jack Nicholson, yes, him).  Karloff’s castle is amazingly art-directed from the outside in line with Corman’s use of candy-colours and campy 60s settings/costumes.  I was then interrupted and had to return to the film in the morning, when the kids joined me just in time for the battle of wizards, Price vs. Karloff, which was great fun!  (Rotoscoped laser beams and all!).  I’m surprised that I hadn’t heard of this one when I was a kid myself…  (Of course, Corman’s other Poe films aren’t comedies and might contain too much dread for children).

Philomena (2013)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Philomena (2013) – S. Frears

Basically, a two-hander for Judi Dench and Steve Coogan – and both actors acquit themselves admirably.  Dench, as the elderly Irish woman searching for her son (who had been removed from her by nuns after a teen pregnancy) and Coogan, as the out-of-work journalist who takes up her “human interest” story (approached originally with disdain).  Dench does a fine job of disappearing into her role and Coogan, well, how could he? The good thing about Coogan is that his schtick is genuinely amusing and even in subdued mode here, he still brings added comic value just because it’s him.  Stephen Frears is by now a truly mainstream director and he adds polish to the proceedings, keeping things interesting, as the pair gets closer and closer to the truth.  Although the premise for the film might easily be perceived as political (another failing of the Catholic Church), the script does not go for the jugular but instead lets everyone off relatively easy (noting implicitly how faith has led people to err in many ways, perhaps including Dench’s character).  All told, an easy watch for those times when you don’t have brainpower for something challenging.

The Chills: The Triumph and Tragedy of Martin Phillipps (2019)

☆ ☆ ☆

The Chills:  The Triumph and Tragedy of Martin Phillipps (2019) – J. Parnell & R. Curry

It must have been 1986 or 1987 when I first heard the Chills (courtesy of Karen Adams & Pung Van) amid the surge of Flying Nun bands from New Zealand that were flooding onto American college radio (our station being WCWM-FM in Williamsburg, VA).  Was it “Party in my Heart” or “House with 100 Rooms” or perhaps something more omnipresent such as “Pink Frost”? In any event, it wasn’t until 1990 and the Submarine Bells tour of the US that I first saw them live – in Minneapolis (but where? First Avenue, probably).  I do remember Mike Wolf and I and a few others had dinner with The Chills at the Sri Lanka Curry House – but Martin Phillipps, singer, guitarist, and songwriter, himself didn’t show.  Perhaps this could have offered some insight into the man then that it would take decades later and this documentary to reveal.  It seems that he had his problems and was not always good at dealing with other people, churning through dozens of bandmates over the years.  To their credit, the filmmakers (who wisely devote the majority of their interview time to Phillipps himself) don’t hide this fact – this isn’t a puff piece.  The film succeeds as it reviews the history of the band, its early local successes that grew into international success (with “Heavenly Pop Hit”) and a US major label contract before collapsing under the pressure that eventually resulted in  years of drug abuse for Phillipps.  Of course, he finally pulled himself together, got off of alcohol and drugs, and reignited the band (which had limped along all those years).  I recall a fantastic gig here in Melbourne around 2013 or 2014 that was a virtual greatest hits show – and then another tour on the back of the Silver Bullets album in 2015 or so in a bigger venue.  There has been a subsequent album (Snow Bound) and some songs from that one feature in the film.  Where the film doesn’t quite succeed is when it follows Phillipps to his GP for various treatments for Hepatitis C – sure, it humanises him but it isn’t as interesting as his musical pursuits.  And, in the end, it is Phillipps’ songwriting (then and now) that is the most inspiring part of his story – and I command you to stop everything and listen to The Chills now to recall (or discover) that fact.

Addendum: As someone who studies personality, I feel as though I should have included at least some commentary about how creativity may be associated with certain traits or that the ability to focus single-mindedly on a project may come at the detriment of social relationships but a) that would be a cliché and b) it probably isn't really true. That said, different forms of expression (i.e., different results) may be associated with different traits/experiences -- but you knew that.

  

Horror of Dracula (1958)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Horror of Dracula (1958) – T. Fisher

Sumptuous Hammer production directed by Terence Fisher and scripted by Jimmy Sangster -- one of their first takes on the horror classics, which, along with their version of Frankenstein (Curse of…, 1957) really launched the studio.  This is also Christopher Lee’s first outing as Count Dracula, a role he would make his own across the next two decades; he barely speaks but his glare is enough.  Of course, Peter Cushing is his nemesis, Doctor van Helsing, who uses his knowledge of vampire lore to try to stop the evil.  The script takes liberties with Bram Stoker’s original – for example, in this version, Jonathan Harker (John van Eyssen) is already onto Dracula and ready to stake him when he first ventures to the Count’s castle (and despite losing to Dracula, he still leads him to Lucy and Mina). Other variations exist (no Renfield, etc.), likely due to the budget being spent on sets and costumes (all great) rather than actors.  But the end result is a great mixture of gothic drama and bloody horror in that perfectly recreated Hammer version of the 19^th century (that somehow never quite seems real).

Farewell (2009)

☆ ☆ ☆

Farewell (2009) – C. Carion

I’m a sucker for Cold War spy dramas, although I recognise that really good specimens are rare (and I am not sure I have seen any other French ones). Farewell, the code name for this adventure, takes place in the early ‘80s just before perestroika and Gorbachev’s ensuing glasnost policies.  Indeed, the Soviet official (played expertly by Emir Kusturica, a director in his own right) turning over information to the French secret service claims to be doing so because he loves his country and wants to see reforms.  The film is not a complicated political thriller nor a cat-and-mouse chase between the authorities and the mole; instead it is partly a buddy film (the Soviet source and the French engineer who is his contact, played by Guillaume Canet) and partly a study of the impact of this high stakes leak on their relationships with their wives and children. Once the Americans get involved (Reagan is played somewhat jarringly by Fred Ward, with David Soul and Willem Dafoe by his side), the pressure on the protagonists becomes too much.  Yet, despite its promise and the solid acting throughout, the result is rather middling. I’m not sure what I was expecting but perhaps it takes too long to get there.

  

Mania (The Flesh and the Fiends) (1960)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Mania (The Flesh and the Fiends) (1960) – J. Gilling

Not produced by Hammer Studios but featuring their star, Peter Cushing, as the rather diabolical (or at least unethical) Dr Knox, who pays “resurrectionists” for corpses to use in anatomy and surgery classes in Edinburgh in 1828.  He pays more for fresher corpses and soon an enterprising pair of louts, Burke (George Rose) and Hare (Donald Pleasance), go into business, the murder business, to keep Dr Knox and his students fully stocked.  Of course, this is a true story (which also inspired a short story by Robert Louis Stephenson and the corresponding Boris Karloff film, The Body Snatcher, 1945).  Cushing plays Knox with one eye shut, signifying the blind eye he turns to the source of his cadavers.  Pleasance is especially good in this early role.  The DVD I watched seemed to be made from an umpteenth generation copy but I could still enjoy the creepy mise-en-scene and eccentric supporting characters that inhabit it (although my US version of the film excludes all the naughty bits that made this film a scandal in its day). Worth a look if you can find a decent copy.   

Marnie (1964)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Marnie (1964) – A. Hitchcock

Now that I have reread the chapter on Marnie from Robin Wood’s famous book on Hitchcock, I am almost convinced that this film is one of the director’s most important works (as a statement of his major themes).  But the problem for me is that it isn’t really an enjoyable watch (notwithstanding Bernard Herrmann’s score, the weird non-naturalistic elements, and Hitch’s moving, peering, camera).  Tippi Hedren plays the title character, a woman who is so psychologically damaged (resulting in constant lying and thieving) that she is hostile to everyone around her, particularly men (but not including her mother from whom she desperately wants love).  Sean Connery plays her employer who becomes determined to free Marnie from her demons, even if it means controlling and dominating her. It gets pretty raw and unpleasant as the duo engage in numerous interactions where he pushes her out of her comfort zone and she reacts harshly (toward him and toward herself).  The mystery that Hitchcock invites us to contemplate/solve is the original source of Marnie’s problems, but we know from clues that he lays out (in her dreams and with some psychotronic red flashes) that it has something to do with the colour red, thunder & lightning, tapping at the window, and of course, her mother.  The fact that Connery plays a former zoologist interested in “instinctual behaviour” is another key to the film, which doesn’t shy away from considering sexual motives, pathology, and transference.  There is a lot to unpack.  Wood believes that Hitch is mostly concerned with the thin line between order and disorder, the way that our identities may be artifices constructed to hide the disarray and pain within. Of course, how we experience guilt (rightly or wrongly) is another of the director’s major concerns. The psychology here may not actually hold up, but with Marnie, Hitch also suggests that there may be a therapeutic solution to such problems through love and acceptance by others – and fortunately there really is evidence to support that contention.     

Diva (1981)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Diva (1981) – J.-J. Beineix

The debut feature from Jean-Jacques Beineix (who went on to make Betty Blue, 1986, which I still haven’t seen) is rather hard to pin down.  At first, it seems to be about a teenager, Jules (Frédéric Andréi), with a passion for opera, who secretly records a concert by a famous diva who refuses to be recorded, Cynthia Hawkins (real opera singer Wilhelmenia Wiggins Fernandez), and also steals her dress from backstage after the show. Later this becomes important to the plot, the recording at least.  But parallel to this is a whole other story about an international prostitution ring that the cops are working to expose and a cassette tape that contains damning evidence against a prominent figure.  The two narrative threads intertwine when the cassette ends up in the basket of Jules’ moped. I have to admit that I was not particularly engaged by the film at first, but as it progressed I found myself more and more drawn into the story, which contains a number of intriguing side characters (Alba played by Thuy An Luu and Gorodish played by Richard Bohringer – who may actually be the main focus of the source novel and other books by Delacorta).  The thriller frame probably helps to support the various digressions by giving the viewer something to hold on to.  Moreover, the proceedings here are stylishly staged and photographed -- and enjoyably unpredictable.    

Fantastic Voyage (1966)

☆ ☆ ☆

Fantastic Voyage (1966) – R. Fleischer

High concept science fiction that sees intrepid travellers suit up and head not for outer space but instead for “inner space”: after a scientist is nearly assassinated, a team is miniaturised (yes!) and sent into his bloodstream in a special submarine to destroy a blood clot in his brain.   Donald Pleasance is the doctor on board in charge of the mission (run by military command personnel, Edmond O’Brien and Arthur O’Connell back in the lab) which also includes neurosurgeon Arthur Kennedy and assistant Raquel Welch, submarine captain William Redfield, and the hero, communications officer Stephen Boyd (who is also charged with determining whether there is an enemy agent hidden on the team).  Of course, the main attractions here are the special effects – can it really be true that this film was shown to medical students because of its accurate depiction of the body (specifically the circulatory system)?  It seems a rather quaint set of analogue camera tricks and set design now (in line with the “futuristic” computers and technology).  It probably comes as no surprise that all of the various dangers in the body due make an appearance:  a trip through the pulsing heart and the windy lungs, attack by antibodies and later the dreaded white corpuscles, the booming inner ear.  I found the film a bit slow (it is in real time – the team will only remain miniaturised for 60 minutes and the clock is ticking) but Amon (aged 7) had a lot of questions and seemed absorbed by the onscreen action.     

Leave No Trace (2018)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Leave No Trace (2018) – D. Granik

Director Debra Granik (Winter’s Bone, 2010) offers a rather sombre look at the way that one veteran (Ben Foster) copes with PTSD – he goes off the grid.  The complicating factor is that he is raising a 13-year-old daughter alone (his wife presumably deceased).  Off the grid in this case is way way way off the grid – the father and daughter (Thomasin Harcourt McKenzie) are camping in a state park near Portland, Oregon.  They head in to the city to pick up supplies, paid for by selling the benzedrine that the father receives (but does not take) as a treatment for his symptoms.  In some ways, we might be ready to cheer this escape from the negative influences of screens and commercialism, but it soon becomes apparent that the daughter is longing for social connections with peers and perhaps mother surrogates.  Both actors do a nice job of subtly conveying their psychological profiles, although the reticence of the dad does make it harder to understand him.  Along the way, Granik shows us a host of other people who are coping with or in modern America (shown warts and all), at the lower end of the SES spectrum, possibly by choice.  It’s a thoughtful film but its resolution leaves a lot of questions hanging in the air.