Sleuth (1972)

 

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Sleuth (1972) – J. L. Mankiewicz

Impressive two-hander (from Anthony Shaffer’s play) starring Laurence Olivier and Michael Caine in a twisty game of cat-and-mouse.  Olivier pulls out all the stops as a wealthy game-loving mystery writer who has hatched a plot to ensnare Caine, the hairdresser son of immigrants who is sleeping with Olivier’s wife (seeking a divorce).  Although the fun is in watching Olivier and Caine spar across the three acts, the subtext about class differences is never far from the surface.  Olivier can’t stand the idea of Caine showing him up.  The whole thing is staged in a single location, Olivier’s country estate filled with games, theatrical props, and mechanical toys (well directed by veteran Joseph L. Mankiewicz).  It’s hard to write about the film without giving too much away – however, my feeling is that the ending is just a little bit too pat (although I’ll admit that there was really no other possibility). If you are up for a theatrical game of gotcha full of clever sadistic twists, then this may be your cup of tea.

 

Drag Me to Hell (2009)

 

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Drag Me to Hell (2009) – S. Raimi

It only gradually dawned on me that this film is actually an homage to Jacques Tourneur’s Curse of the Demon (1957) – which I should have realised since that is one of my all-time favourite films.  Most obviously, there is a curse placed on the protagonist (here, Alison Lohman) that means that a demon will come and destroy her in a matter of days.  In CotD, the curse came from an Alastair Crowley-type figure and here it is from a Hungarian gypsy but the slow encroachment of the demon is the same, all shadows and psychological effects at first before the full-on attack.  Although Tourneur’s film (drawn from a story by M. R. James) really focused on the passing of the runes, the passing of an object is not neglected here and although Dana Andrews played a sceptical psychologist who was cursed in the earlier film that role goes to Lohman’s boyfriend (Justin Long) in this film – she is a bank loan officer instead.  Beyond also showing a séance, that’s probably where the similarities end (except perhaps the ending and its location!).  Raimi’s film is much more tongue-in-cheek, a bit scary but definitely with some gross-out humour (and comedy-of-embarrassment scenes) and “modern” special effects and action, harkening back to the later Evil Dead movies for which he is rightly famous.  Ultimately, this is a fun ride but with an extra special something for fans of classic supernatural horror (which really can’t be beat – check out the earlier film if you can!). 

Bitter Springs (1950)

 

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Bitter Springs (1950) – R. Smart

Well-intentioned but still problematic film about colonialism and racism here in Australia.  Chips Rafferty, beloved 1940s film icon, plays against type as the racist white settler & sheep rancher who purchases title to some land in South Australia (the film is shot near Quorn in the Flinders Ranges) situated around a water hole used by the local Indigenous tribe.  As he and his family (and several others who have joined them for the trip) arrive, they are met by a local Trooper (played by Michael Pate) who explains that the family should plan on sharing their land and the water hole with the local tribe.  When Rafferty bristles, Pate explains that the other options are to either force or perhaps ease the Indigenous people off their land but that it would be difficult because it is sacred to them.  The rest of the film shows us the conflict between Rafferty and the Aboriginal people (played authentically by real uncredited Indigenous non-actors, who unfortunately may not have been treated or paid appropriately) along with a distracting romantic subplot and ridiculous vaudeville performer brought in from the UK to “star” (Tommy Trinder).  In some ways, the film feels like an American Western, perhaps later in the cycle when Native Americans were accorded a greater degree of humanity.  In Bitter Springs, we don’t quite get to know any of the Indigenous people (save Blackjack who arrives with Rafferty’s group but soon allies himself with the blackfellas) and we don’t necessarily see things from their perspective – but the film is nevertheless sympathetic to them.  However, one has to wonder whether some in the audience may have sided with Rafferty – the original ending to the film apparently had the entire family wiped out after the tribe takes possession of the water hole but this proved too grim for test audiences.  Instead, a tacked-on coda shows Rafferty changing his ways and working together to raise sheep on his land with the Indigenous people at his side.  That said, the film has some beautiful vistas (in gorgeous B&W) and, you know, its heart seems to be in the right place.  If only Australian government actions were more attuned to the needs of the traditional owners of this land.

The Party (1968)

 

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Party (1968) – B. Edwards

Peter Sellers stars as an Indian actor (so you have to decide for yourself right away whether you will accept this potentially racist conceit) who is a bit of a bumbler who gets fired from a movie for accidentally blowing up the set (this is in a pre-title credits sequence).  Due to a mix-up, he is accidentally invited to a posh party at the producer’s house – the movie itself simply shows us the party.  There is no plot to speak of but instead we follow the various encounters and accidents of the protagonist.  I suppose this film is a forerunner of the comedy of embarrassment, because unlike in the Clouseau/Pink Panther films (also by director Blake Edwards) where the hero is clearly a joke, you feel some sympathy for this poor Indian star, you feel embarrassed for him (for example, when he loses his shoe in the indoor river running through the house).  Fortunately, the film (and Sellers) doesn’t really treat Hrundi as a stereotype (well, not too much) and the partygoers are generally accepting of him even as he initiates a variety of “situations”.  So, was it funny? Occasionally yes – there is slapstick.  But the overall effect is something beyond this, something almost tender toward the character seems to emerge that is greater than the sum of the gags. 

 

Wildlife (2018)

 

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Wildlife (2018) – P. Dano

The acting by the three leads (Carey Mulligan, Jake Gyllenhaal, and Ed Oxenbould) is strong and seemingly nurtured by the sensitive direction from actor Paul Dano (his first feature, co-written with Zoe Kazan).  Through the eyes of a 14-year-old boy, Joe (Oxenbould), the world of adults is confusing indeed.  Having relocated to Great Falls, Montana, the small family struggles when Jerry (Gyllenhaal) loses his job, seemingly due to personality problems. When he up and leaves to fight bushfires in the Rockies, Jeanette (Mulligan) struggles to find other options to support herself and Joe. As this is 1960 (nicely laid out with period sets, cars, and costumes), those other options at first involve another man who could substitute for Jerry, financially and perhaps romantically.  You can see Mulligan’s desperation and her internal torment as she debates what to do.  Joe is along for the ride, whether he likes it or not.  Indeed, the film is mostly seen through Joe’s young eyes and his desire for his parents to remain together is palpable and often explicitly voiced.  As my parents divorced somewhere around this same time (when I was 13 or 14), I found the movie almost unbearably painful as it lead me to reflect on my own views of my parents’ struggles at that time (and my own emotional reactions). Although my family’s experiences were two decades later, the opportunities for women to choose their own paths and potentially stand on their own feet were therefore somewhat greater (if still not great enough). Mulligan’s portrayal allows us to see her grasping the possibilities of a new life, only half formed in her mind, in a society that is barely open to it.  I guess it could have been similar for my mother.  That said, Wildlife still does not quite manage to escape the circumscribed feel of its anxieties, potentially due to the inarticulate (though authentic) responses of a young teen boy.      

Insidious (2010)

 ☆ ☆ ☆

Insidious (2010) – J. Wan

There certainly are a lot of supernatural horror movies from the last decade or so – but their ratings on various websites suggest that they are mostly duds.  However, Insidious spawned a few remakes (not a sign of quality these days, of course) and seemed to have purposefully avoided gore/ultra-violence, so I checked it out.  And… it definitely is a genre film.  Which made me think about what I expect from genre films – do they need to be creative? Do they need to do more than satisfyingly include the central features of the form? Of course, in asking that question, I immediately realised that the best genre films (for example, in film noir or the western) start with the key elements of plot or style and then innovate within these.  So, let’s just say that Insidious begins with the key elements of the haunted house genre (bumps in the night, objects moving on their own) and then adds a little bit from the demonic possession genre (as Rose Byrne and Patrick Wilson discover when one of their kids falls into a sort of coma) and finally just cops huge chunks from Poltergeist (1982).  So, there is not much original here at all and precious little innovation.  But that doesn’t mean that there weren’t some moments where I had the chills and I certainly laughed wryly as various stereotypic plot elements turned up (perhaps with a bit of a sly wink from the cast or director).  The good news is that the film never really falls apart (even if we don’t always identify with any of the characters), so with that in mind, it’s an okay genre excursion from Malaysian-Australian director James Wan (who also did The Conjuring, reviewed here, and, uh, Saw, which I won’t watch) but it’s nothing more. 

Salvador (1986)

☆ ☆ ☆

Salvador (1986) – O. Stone

A couple of weeks ago, I watched Under Fire (1983) which starred Nick Nolte as a photojournalist covering the war in Nicaragua at the end of the Seventies and now here we have James Woods as a photojournalist covering the war in El Salvador at the start of the Eighties.  Both films portray the American diplomatic and media communities as small groups disconnected from the reality of the cultures around them.  One difference however is that Woods’ character is a real jerk.  It is hard to identify with him for a whole host of reasons (how he treats women, for example).  But somehow director Oliver Stone seems to be getting a kick out of Woods’ hyperactive loser – perhaps he sees him as a gonzo journalist of sorts (sidekick Jim Belushi is certainly all about drugs, booze, and hookers).  I was hard pressed to see whether Woods’ heart was in the right place, but apart from some hard to understand polemic specific to El Salvadoran politics (that is never explained) put in his mouth by the director which I assumed was supportive of the oppressed, he seems mostly self-interested.  Not sure why the more professional photog played by John Savage likes him at all.  As usual, Stone takes liberties with reality and places his characters at the scene of pivotal events, such as the assassination of Archbishop Romero.  But for all its visceral impact (there are dead bodies and threats of violence everywhere), the film feels a mess, which I guess is supposed to be a reflection of the way Richard Boyle (Woods) operated.