Heaven Can Wait (1978)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Heaven Can Wait (1978) – W. Beatty

While watching Heaven Can Wait, which surely I must have seen before (but with only faint memories this time), I felt it rather silly – but now a day later, it seems rather sweet (not funny, but sweet).  Beatty (who also directed) plays a gridiron quarterback who is accidentally taken before his time by his heavenly escort (Buck Henry who co-directed). As his body has been cremated, he needs to be relocated into another body – someone who has just passed away – and it turns out to be millionaire Leo Farnsworth who apparently was a stereotypic evil capitalist.  Beatty’s character, an airhead, tries to make the morally right choices, despite the dismay caused in his Board of Directors and personal assistant (Charles Grodin, who also attempts to murder him with Farnsworth’s wife, Dyan Cannon).  But more importantly, he contacts his old trainer, played by Jack Warden, and convinces him he is reincarnated in Farnsworth’s body – and that he wants to play in and win the Super Bowl.  Of course, everyone thinks he is nuts, except love interest Julie Christie.  This is a remake of Here Comes Mr. Jordan (1941) with Jordan played here by James Mason; the earlier film was a big hit (Claude Rains was a better Jordan, but Beatty’s football player is more charismatic than Robert Montgomery’s boxer).  I think Beatty (and Buck Henry) made the right decision to keep the film as clean as its predecessor (no profanity, nudity, or violence) and it leaves you with a pleasant aftertaste.

Pitch Black (2000)

☆ ☆

Pitch Black (2000) – D. Twohy

Somewhere, I saw this praised as a guilty pleasure (was it really Bong Joon-Ho?) but my reaction was this Vin Diesel vehicle is a rather ordinary, even boring, Alien rip-off.  The formula is quite common – an eclectic band of survivors confronts an unknown enemy and are slowly picked off one-by-one until the one or two who remain manage to escape or best the monsters.  Of course, each of the ragtag group is a stereotype because this is not the type of film where a great deal of effort is put on developing the characters.  Apart from Radha Mitchell and Vin Diesel, I found it difficult to keep them straight.  This was Diesel’s breakthrough role but he doesn’t seem particularly charismatic (I haven’t watched his more recent films).  The plot involves a long-haul spacecraft crashlanding on a planet with aliens who only come out in the dark – and Diesel is a convicted murderer (being transported by a bounty hunter) who has had surgery on his eyes so he can see best in the dark.  The planet with three suns seems safe – until there is an eclipse when all hell breaks loose.  The movie spawned several sequels.  It isn’t worth seeing, even if you are (as I was) unable to concentrate on anything more taxing than action fare.  Re-watch Alien (1979) instead.

I See a Dark Stranger (1946)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

I See a Dark Stranger (1946) – F. Maunder

Deborah Kerr is a lot perkier than I remember her being in other pictures (and just a year before Black Narcissus and her turn as an uptight nun). But what’s this? She’s an Irish lass who has heard so many stories of the revolution that she hates the Brits enough to help some Nazi spies? This weird premise pulls viewers in funny directions – do we want her caught or not?  Trevor Howard falls in love with her, but he’s a British officer and sworn to turn in any spies he finds. The action moves from Ballygarry to Dublin to the Isle of Man and somehow becomes a very Hitchcockian thriller.  Apparently, Basil Radford and Naunton Wayne were set to reprise their comic characters from The Lady Vanishes but had too many demands and were replaced by substitutes (the cops on the Isle of Man, obviously). In fact, the movie is written by Frank Launder and Sidney Gilliat who wrote that Hitchcock picture (Launder directs here). Some classify this as noir and it is about serious matters – the D-Day plans are the MacGuffin! But it’s a lot more fun than that suggests.    

The Woman in the Window (1944)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Woman in the Window (1944) – F. Lang

Watching this noir from Fritz Lang while knowing the ending takes some of the bite away (although Lang apparently defended his creative decision).  Perhaps Scarlet Street (1945, with the same stars and director) hits harder in contrast.  Here, Edward G. Robinson is a psychology professor who has a random meet-up with Joan Bennett (the titular woman in a painting he admires) while his wife and children are away.  Unlike in the subsequent film, no romance begins – but the pair kills her lover (in self-defence) when he barges in unexpectedly.  The noir element extends from their decision to cover up the crime.  Lang (and screenwriter Nunnally Johnson) are particularly good at detailing the methodical steps the police take to solve the crime (and the clues that Robinson has left behind), even as Robinson is forced to be an onlooker to their processes by virtue of his friendship with the District Attorney.  And then things get worse when Dan Duryea shows up.  Surprisingly, Lang and Johnson don’t turn Robinson and Bennett against each other, perhaps a missed opportunity for even more suspense (it is hinted at as a possibility).  Things do get pretty dark – and then there is that ending!  A surprisingly languid affair, all up, but certainly in the top 100 of films noir from the era.

Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence (1983)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence (1983) – N. Oshima

Perhaps I haven’t seen enough of Nagisa Oshima’s oeuvre to really get a sense of his themes – he often portrays Japanese society as full of rigid norms that his characters rebel against. So, in this film, set in 1942 in a POW camp in Java, we find several Japanese soldiers who vary in their implementation of the tough rules recommended for dealing with prisoners (rules which violate the Geneva Convention, for sure).  Ryuichi Sakamoto (from Yellow Magic Orchestra and the composer of the film’s haunting score as well) plays the camp commander, Captain Yonoi, who waivers in his application of force, possibly because he becomes infatuated with one of the prisoners (hard to say whether this is same sex love or some other sort of fascination/obsession).  Takeshi Kitano (in his first dramatic, not comedic, role) plays Sgt. Hara who seems tough at first but grows fond of the British prisoners and, when drunk, actually may have saved their lives.  Yonoi appears to lose his bearings when faced with Major Jack Celliers (played by David Bowie) and Hara develops a certain camaraderie with Col. John Lawrence (played by Tom Conti).  On the one hand, Celliers defies the Japanese at every opportunity with a cavalier air; he pays the price in harsh punishments, particularly after Yonoi exits the picture. A flashback shows us how he developed his capacity for self-sacrifice.  On the other hand, Lawrence speaks Japanese, knows their culture, and seeks to influence their decisions by getting on friendly terms with them; he also later discovers that his position is vulnerable. One other British POW (played by Australian Jack Thompson), the leader of the POWs, is shown in a less positive light.  Of course, one would never expect Oshima to present a contrast of stark good and evil, but he does seem to favour the British perspective and those Japanese characters who rebel (in small ways) against the unyielding norms of their military.  Later, however, when the tables are turned, mercy is not forthcoming and no one apparently defies the norms of the victors…

The Psychic (1977)

☆ ☆ ☆

The Psychic (1977) – L. Fulci

This may not be a fair review, because, honestly, I kept dozing off and then waking back up.  Probably this is my fault rather than the movie’s (although I often struggle with dubbing) but it might have suited, or amplified, the dreamlike quality of the proceedings.  Now having seen the end of the film, I know the killer’s identity and therefore I might not watch this again anytime soon.  Basically a giallo, from director Lucio Fulci (who went on to make some gory horror films in the zombie and slasher genres) and starring Jennifer O’Neill as a psychic who experiences a vision of a murder -- in a room that turns out to be in the mansion of her new husband (his former bedroom and the body is of a former girlfriend).  After unearthing the corpse in the first few minutes of the film and with her husband arrested as a suspect in the crime, O’Neill starts putting the clues from her vision together, along with her therapist, in the hopes of exonerating her husband.  There isn’t much gore or violence here but a lot of creeping around and opening of doors (at least as far as I saw!).  Apparently, Tarantino is a fan and used the soundtrack in Kill Bill (the film is also titled Murder to the Tune of the Seven Black Notes) – my kids complained from their bedroom that it was too spooky. In the final minutes, all the pieces fell into place with a nod to Edgar Allen Poe – perhaps I didn’t earn the clever resolution but the payoff still worked for me.  If this genre is your thing, then this might be worth a look.

  

Boiling Point (1990)

☆ ☆ ☆

Boiling Point (1990) – T. Kitano

For me, the lustre seems to have worn off Beat Takeshi Kitano some time ago (although I am surprised to discover that he has been steadily making films all this time). Perhaps this is my growing distaste for senseless violence or perhaps the director just got into a rut (both of these things also affected my appreciation for Tarantino – but I haven’t seen the latest from either director).  Boiling Point was Kitano’s second film and he seems to be still developing his technique and his persona, not yet synthesising things as well as he did in Sonatine (1993) and Hana-Bi/Fireworks (1997).  The film follows Masaki (Yûrei Yanagi) who seems a bit of a dullard as he plays baseball, gets into a minor scrape with a low-level yakuza at the petrol station where he works, finds a girlfriend, and then heads to Okinawa to buy a gun for his friend (Taka Guadalcanal), a bar owner, baseball coach, and former yakuza, who has avenged him by getting into a tiff with the gangsters.  In Okinawa, he encounters (and is drawn into the orbit of) Uehara, a petty thug who engages in a range of violent and sexually violent actions without showing much emotion – this character is played flatly by Kitano himself.  The film seems to make no judgments about what takes place, which gives it an unsavoury quality (you feel that some kids could glamourize the violence here, a perpetual problem in cinema).  Later, we return to Masaki and the denouement that rounds off the film as a sort of revenge drama.  What distinguishes Boiling Point from other films (and Kitano from other directors) is the wry dry humour that laces the film, usually taking the form of shots that begin an action and then are edited to show reactions or consequences (without showing the middle bits). He would finesse this style in later films.