I Am Waiting (1957)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

I Am Waiting (1957) – K. Kurahara

Film noir, as a genre with fuzzy boundaries, really did sweep the world – with its roots in pulp fiction (e.g., Dashiell Hammett), it overtook Hollywood in the Forties and Fifties (and continues to this day, but is usually called “neo-noir”).  Ore wa matteru ze (“I am waiting”) is a perfect example of how the genre’s tropes were cut-and-paste into another culture – perhaps it makes sense for Japan to have captured it so well, given the influence that America had at that time (see also Kurosawa’s Stray Dog, 1949).  In this film, the protagonist (Yûjirô Ishihara) is an ex-boxer who retired after killing a man (in a bar fight).  He dreams of following his brother to Brazil to become a farmer, but he just needs to raise the dough (in his own bar/restaurant).  One night, he “rescues” a mysterious trench-coated woman (Mie Kitahara) who was drenched by the rain – she’s in trouble with a bunch of hoodlums, led by a fedora wearing club owner, of course.  (You can see some parallels to Melville’s French version of noir that takes place in similar settings here). One thing leads to another, and it turns out the brother in Brazil never actually made it there – and the club-owner and his henchman are somehow involved.  Director Koreyoshi Kurahara employs many of the clichés of the genre but they feel fresh enough in this different cultural milieu; in Hollywood, this might just be another run-of-the-mill picture in the crowded field of noir. The director went on to more confrontational material in the future (e.g., The Warped Ones, 1960).  

Pool of London (1951)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Pool of London (1951) – B. Dearden

Shot on location in London, with a gritty feel but lots of famous landmarks too, Basil Dearden’s thriller is in keeping with the emphasis on social issues found elsewhere in his oeuvre (Sapphire, 1959; Victim, 1961).  Here, Johnny (Earl Cameron), a black sailor, is unwittingly caught up in a heist gone bad when his friend, Dan (Bonar Colleano), another sailor, asks him to smuggle a package on board their ship, headed for Rotterdam.  Before that can happen, they have a weekend’s full of shore leave, where Johnny meets and clearly falls in love with the girl who takes tickets at the music hall, Pat (Susan Shaw)  This is apparently one of the first inter-racial relationships depicted on the British screen – and, although most of the other characters are fine with it, 1951’s ugly reality does rear its head and we see Johnny treated to some racist invective.  He’s upset but passive about it, suggesting that the two of them can’t fix the world’s problems.  Racism isn’t really the focus of the film, however, which instead focuses on Dan’s loyalty to Johnny and his moral character, more generally. I think a case could be made for Dearden as an auteur, given his way of infusing realist melodrama into genre, although admittedly I’ve only seen six of his 40+ films (and his part of the Dead of Night portmanteau).  Worth a look.

Stan & Ollie (2018)

☆ ☆ ☆

Stan & Ollie (2018) – J. S. Baird

Steve Coogan and John C. Reilly, two persistently great actors, play Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy with note perfect impersonations (which I suppose we could have expected from Coogan, given his flair for mimicry in The Trip films). They disappear into the characters.  The film (based on real events) takes place long after the comedy duo’s screen successes, as they attempt to make a comeback in England, touring the country with recreations of their greatest skits.  Both expect to make a final film based on the Robin Hood legend, but it looks like it will fall through.  Indeed, there is an inevitable air of melancholy to the proceedings, as Ollie’s health is failing and audiences are initially small.  But again Coogan and Reilly are superb at their comic reincarnations here, surely eliciting nostalgia from many – and when the actresses playing Laurel and Hardy’s wives show up, an extra level of repartee is provided.  Despite these positives, unfortunately, director Jon S. Baird lays it all on too thick, with extra strings (so to speak) and the result feels overproduced and overly sentimental. There’s little to any edge here, even with the inevitable conflict between the heroes.  A missed opportunity but okay enough.    

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).