Technically speaking, it IS still Spring. No?
Equipment: Sony UBP-X800 multi-region 4K player, Sony KD50X690E display, Yamaha RXV-385 A/V receiver.
Bloodmoon (Severin Blu-ray)
“What if we choose to apprehend the slasher film as a virus?” I thought while looking at this Australian 1990 item. Because despite being made in, well, 1990, it has most of the hallmarks of an American-made example of the genre from 1982 or so, when a thousand Friday the 13th variants bloomed. So it’s like the contagion took about eight years to make its way around the world. In any event Bloodmoon nevertheless manages to impart to the tired tropes a guileless and crass Down Under charm. It offers a bumper crop of fresh female toplessness, usually revealed right before someone (it’s generally the topless girl, but sometimes a dude) gets strangled with a circle of barbed wire, thus firmly imprinting the sex-death connection on the hapless young viewer. The whole thing certainly LOOKS sharp (director Alec Mills was a onetime cinematographer of some distinction) (and he only just died in February, poor guy) and the scenario’s cheating-teacher bit is a stitch. The killer’s pathology is such that he gets really sloppy, and nobody notices, which is odd but leads to an unusually satisfying ending involving an activist nun, sort of. The “Frightbreak” at 1 hour and five minutes was possibly RIPPED OFF BY GASPAR NOE for I Stand Alone nine years later. Check it out. The supplements are entertaining but I was still left with questions, such as, “Did the terrible band Vice, who start off sounding like Hootie and then morph into a form of Creed, have a codicil in their soundtrack that allowed their terrible music to be heard with minimal dialogue interference for the first minutes of their appearance?” The rest of the score is by Brian May, and if you know your Australian film composers you know it’s not the Queen guy. Inspirational dialogue: “You shouldn’t be out here with a boy. You should know better than that.” Inspirational interview quote, from female lead Christine Amor: “I thought it was appalling” — B+
Burial Ground (Severin 4K Ultra disc)
One of the signal innovations of Lucio Fulci’s 1979 Zombi was to take the sickly-green appearance of the undead in Romero’s 1978 Dawn of the Dead a step further and give the monsters skull-exposed heads with nests of worms squirming in the eye sockets and all that kinda thing. Ick. Andrea Bianchi continued the mode of representation in this 1981 grossout, which was in fact sometimes shown as Zombi 3. (I don’t have the space or inclination to explain where Zombi 2 fits into all this, but real heads know and all.) Here’s it’s not just worms but maggots that fester on the flesh-eaters, so do not have a TV dinner whilst consuming this if indeed you choose to consume it. The poor crypt-exploring scientists and friends who unleash the creatures have the usual hard time figuring out how to kill them. Some discover a green flammable material. Does setting them on fire work? Yes it seems it kind of does. Later another character avers “They can only be killed by blowing their heads off.” Uh huh. Very confusing. Remember in the Fulci movie where one of the undead wrestled a shark? In this movie there’s a few undead with seeming Spider-Man powers methodically making their way up a pillar. Cool, The Climbing Dead. The unexpected incest angle in the scenario is very unexpected. Michael, the “son” who’s really into getting back into nursing at his mother’s breast is played by an adult midget. Gnarly. 85 solid minutes of “what the fuck?” — A
Butcher, Baker, Nightmare Maker (Severin 4K Ultra disc)
Michael Weldon’s Psychotronic Encyclopedia of Film pretty much shrugs this movie off, but you should not. It’s bonkers. The salient facts of director William Asher’s life and career — that is, he directed a bunch of AIP “Beach” movies and he was married from 1963 to 1973 to Elizabeth Montgomery — cannot prepare you for the fevered reality of this serial-murder-motivated-by-incestuous-desire tale. As Susan Tyrell plays the aunt with the incestuous desire, you can easily infer a primary source of the mania — Tyrell, as is her wont embodies a desperate grotesque at a ragingly high volume without ever making her into a caricature. But then there’s the rest, which is almost equally delightfully confounding — Bo Svenson’s tetchy, homophobic homicide detective, Julia Duffy’s eye-openingly hot-to-trot teen girlfriend, Bill Paxton’s bully jock, and poor Jimmy McNichol looking very “what the hell have I gotten myself into?” And lots of blood. That the direction is entirely staid and straight adds to the unwitting potency. Essential. And looking like it should. ‑‑A
Cabin in the Sky (Warner Archive Blu-ray)
Damn, look at that spotless gray scale in the opening credit graphics. That may be cleanest you are likely to feel watching this problematic Vincente Minnelli feature debut. The racial stereotyping applied throughout this all-Black musical is of the ostensibly benign variety, and good God, once the musical numbers get going that’s all forgotten and the spectacle of Black excellence is gorgeously enveloping, but one never quite escapes the “but still…” feeling about the whole thing. That said, Minnelli was about as enlightened as white studio directors at MGM got in this era, and as dicey as the musical’s book may be (pardon the pun), the camera treatment of the performers is never less than square and appreciative. This is a fancy way of saying Minnelli demonstrates a form of anti-racism by shooting this cast as beautifully as any other ensemble in his filmography (see for instance the beautiful crane from the dance floor to immaculate Duke Ellington at the piano at in the nightclub scene in the last third). “Bogus but rather entertaining” James Baldwin said of this and Stormy Weather — they had, he stated, the advantage over similarly pitched fare of allowing the Black viewer to “at least […] listen to the music.” Both Ethel Waters and Lena Horne are given Marlene-Dietrich-worthy lighting. And Waters just looks so infectiously happy throughout. That, apparently, is ACTING, because by most accounts Ethel could be rather mean and took many opportunities to do so during the making of this picture. Eddie Anderson’s really playing that guitar, you may notice. There aren’t too many VMs in need of upgrade left — I Dood It, Four Horsemen, Tea and Sympathy and ESPECIALLY The Cobweb are the ones I’m most eager to see — and problematic as it is I’m delighted to have this one checked off. — A
Conan the Barbarian (Arrow 4K Ultra disc)
This looks fantastic. Arrow’s given us an immaculate 4K rendering of a magnificent-looking movie. Duke Callaghan was lowkey a great cinematographer (uncredited camera op on a lot of classic, or just great-looking, stuff including The Carpetbaggers and Zabriskie Point), and he shot this when he was pushing 70! The 2010 commentary by director John Milius and star Arnold Schwarzenegger has a nice share of “hoo boy” moments. The duo is pretty laconic, a couple of pally old pros sitting around talking and saying things like: “It’s fitting that he should be the father of Conan. William Smith.” They’re not wrong. Unlike everything else that passes for a comic book movie these days, this, in its own way this is as much a real comic book movie as Danger Diabolik and Modesty Blaise. The crucifixion scene in particular could have come right out of Savage Sword, obviously though it’s more Buscema than Barry Windsor Smith, of course, and do any of you have any idea of what I’m talking about at this point. But as we’re on the subject, casting Schwarzenegger as Conan is in its way the biggest and best source-material-to-movie correspondence since John Huston cast Humphrey Bogart as Sam Spade. Finally, mmm, that’s great animatronic snake — A+
A Day At The Races (Warner Archive)
The boys are starting to look tired here, especially as you can see them so very clearly in this beautiful rendition. While Night at the Opera did a relatively seamless job of threading the madcap Marx antics into an ostensibly sweet-natured romance narrative, here you get the feeling that the story’s just being put on pause for the boys to recycle an old vaudeville routine or two. Hence, the tension between the masks of the Marxes and the tropes of conventional comedy is especially pronounced here. Also, cutesying up Chico is not a great look. That said, the closer it gets to vaudeville show and further from a movie, the better it is. The “All God’s Chillun” number is a real treat — until the boys themselves put on blackface and then holy shit. Quite a nice array of supplements here, too. — B+
Deathdream (Blue Underground 4K Ultra disc)
Real heads know this Bob Clark-Alan Ownsby variant on “The Monkey’s Paw” is one of the lowkey horror greats of the early ‘70s. The formula? Two Canadian filmmakers decamp to Florida, cast the lead actors of Cassavetes’ Faces as another tetchy couple, here mourning the death of their son in the war, and let rip when said son materializes at their door. With needs — most specifically and troublingly a need for fresh blood. It looks how it looks, which is plain, arguably crude — Rex Reed’s famous complaint about Willard having the appearance of having been shot through the bottom of a Coke bottle springs to mind — but it’s almost impossibly effective because of that, not in spite of it. The 4K captures that well. And the direction itself is never slack. The incredibly abrupt cut to the nerdy-looking little kid after the undead Vietnam vet Andy deals with a very annoying dog is a stitch. Ninety minutes of “I came back from the dead and all I got was this lousy suburban malaise.”—A
The Devil’s Honey (Severin 4K Ultra disc)
What can you say about a movie whose first seven minutes, which I won’t describe, will make you lose whatever faith you may have left in humanity? Obviously that it’s permanent collection item. It takes a while for the 4K advantage of Severin’s reboot of its edition of this late Lucio Fulci “erotic thriller” to make itself felt, as cinematographer Alejandro Ulloa goes for a diffuse, vaguely soft-focus look much of the time. But the boost is there, and library items ought to be in the best editions available, so there you go. This was Brett Halsey’s inaugural feature in a four-picture run of Fulci collaborations, and here he gives the appearance of gritting his teeth for a long haul. Corinne Clery mostly wears a “what have I done to deserve this” pout, which fits her role as an unappreciated wife. ‑‑ A
Dracula, Prisoner of Frankenstein (Severin Blu-ray)
Lunatic stuff, with our best friend Jess Franco paying “tribute” to his favorite movie monsters by tossing off a feature shoot in what appears to be 72 hours. Animal lovers beware of the bit where they almost drown a bat in tomato juice. Fog filters, poor exposures, — all sorts of attempted effects combined with uncertain execution are what gives this curiosity its special look. It’s very…distinct (although not at all slick, of course). Poor Dennis Price as Dr. Frankenstein seems — as so many other distinguished actors late in their careers working in exploitation cinema — to be dissociating. Not a good “intro to Franco” piece. But a true monster mash, in which indeed “the guests included Wolfman.” Look for Jason Reitman’s mom Genevieve Robert as Amira, the Gypsy Woman. No really. — A
Faithless (Warner Archive Blu-ray)
Not an inordinately distinguished pre-code MGM picture, but certainly noteworthy for providing a lead role to Tallulah Bankhead (here on loan from Paramount, where her pictures hadn’t been clicking commercially), who’s at her pert and insolent best as a poor little NYC rich girl who, while riding high, makes pronouncements such as” I don’t believe in delinquent girls. Silly weaklings.” This will of course bite her in the ass once she’s wiped out. This is from 1932, early enough in the sound that Hugh Herbert is actually able to credibly portray the heavy. Mourdant Hall called it “lumbering,” which is indicative of the general mien of the early talkie dramatic picture — it’s not even eighty minutes long, how much can it “lumber?” Bankhead would not play another dramatic lead in film for a dozen years, returning to the screen in ’44 for Hitchcock’s Lifeboat. So she’s the clear attraction here, and worth it. The extras come in the form of a few nifty novelty Vitaphone shorts. The image quality of the feature is rather staggeringly good — it’s almost one hundred years old, for God’s sake. Look at this as Metro vin ordinaire (the extra-ordinaire presence of Bankhead notwithstanding) in a superb bottle. Inspirational dialogue, when Bankhead’s character learns someone is from Colorado: “Good heavens, what does one do there, take mud baths?”— A
Geronimo (Powerhouse)
Holy moley, it’s A WOKE WESTERN. A WOKE WESTERN starring a 12-year-old Matt Damon no less. Okay, he’s a little older than that in this criminally underseen 1993 Walter Hill picture. (He’s like, 22 or so.) Wes Studi plays the title warrior with customary gravitas. The action is coherent in the time-tested Hill way, and the movie itself is pertinent, intelligent, consistently engaging. The 2.35 frame is stunningly rendered throughout. A very nice array of extras, starting with a consistently interesting commentary from Western mavens C. Courtney Joyner and Henry Parke and good interviews with Studi, composer Ry Cooder, Hill. There’s also an archival doc in which Bertrand Tavernier demonstrates that, as always, he got it. Inspirational dialogue: “That was a great shot!” “Not so great, I aimed for his head.” Or should it be: “Must be a Texan. Lowest form of white man there is,” uttered by Robert Duvall? A primo example of a relatively recent Western that’s as vital as almost any classic from the genre’s golden age. —A+
The Golden Coach (Raro)
A quick note on a film — Renoir, you’ve heard of him, and Anna Magnani too — that needs to be in your library in whatever form available. This form is quite good, happily. The image here can be best described as refreshing, beautifully detailed, beautifully balanced in the color department. It’s a Canadian restoration and hence there is a Canadian commentary — my pal the critic Adam Nayman is genial and informative. — A
Guillermo Del Toro’s Pinocchio (Criterion)
I am not completely won over by the songs, nor by the conspicuous pop psychology in the writing (“imperfect fathers,” yeesh). But the grafting of the story into the interstice between two 20th century catastrophes works rather well, the sufferings of the Ewan McGregor-voiced cricket make for good and mordant slapstick, the imagery and staging and action is gorgeous, and the heart is genuine. And the 4K Ultra presentation here is spectacular. As distinctive a visionary as Del Toro is, it’s in a work such as this in which his magpie tendencies most productively adhere, and so the stuff he lovingly adopts from the likes of Miyazaki and Harryhausen and Svankmayer and the Quays sings out with love. The making-of supplements are informative and exhaustive, as befits such a project. Spending time in Del Toro’s imagination is always rewarding, and it’s almost equally rewarding to be immersed in the process as in the result. Of course I am especially partial to the 20-minute conversation between Del Toro and Farran Smith Nehme, my friend and a terribly astute-while-amiable interlocutor. — A+
The Horrible Doctor Hichcock (Vinegar Syndrome 4K Ultra)
So how bad was he? Pretty bad! Vinegar Syndrome has put together a faultless presentation of this seminal bit of psychotronic cinema from 1962, all about a physician who can only function as long as his partner lies perfectly still. While Ricardo Freda never had the mojo of Mario Bava, he wasn’t without juice — as in the match cut from title medico Hichcock and syringe in the surgery to Hichcock and syringe in marital boudoir to anesthetize wifey into a corpse-like state. The number of candelabras here reminds one of Scorsese’s remarks about Italian horror movies being all about women carrying them down long corridors. This movie doesn’t quite represent the apotheosis of Barbara Steele (it’s still Black Sunday, people), she here rather amusingly plays a woman who goes to bed with her lipstick on. The extras are good; second AD Marcello Avallone recounts how he “learned to hang out on sets” and it is revealed that the cinephile gag of the title was not screenwriter Ernesto Gastaldi’s. Steele, in a commentary, calls Freda “the epitome of Italian emotionalism.” Incredible image quality. All that’s missing is Tim Lucas. —A+
King Kong (Universal 4K Ultra disc)
I remember seeing this when it first came out and thinking it godawful EXCEPT for Jessica Lange, who enchanted my 17-year-old self with great force. I don’t even think I cottoned much to Jeff Bridges in it. I didn’t think he played an ecology-concerned hippie academic all too well. Of course I saw it while completely in thrall to the Cooper-Schoedsack, as one should be, and my head’s still in that place. But now I can assess the picture with a calmer head capable of simulations of objectivity, so I can report that this is a pretty bouncy, energetic adventure film infused with a not-too-cheesy ‘70s irreverence, all the way up to the moment when the title character shows up. No matter how many effects masters worked on him (see the infamous final title card) he just looks goofy, is all. And the 4K Ultra rendition makes that rather too clear. Inspirational dialogue: “Who in the hell do you think went through there, a guy in an ape suit?” — A
The Mask of Fu Manchu (Warner Archive Blu-ray)
“A Chinaman beat me?” Never happen. So says here one Jean Hersholt, the guy for whom a humanitarian award is named. He sure played some unsavory characters, though. Remember him in Greed? Anyway. This is what you have to call an inescapably racist bit of cinematic pulp but it is also replete with a lot of evocative weirdness not related to the more objectionable components of its content, like lead actor Karloff’s visage distorted in reflective surfaces while something not unlike a Tesla coil crackles with illumination. Iconic. He also looks a little like late period Lou Reed in such shots. Karen Morley, who we have also enjoyed as Poppy in the Hawks Scarface (but my book, The World Is Yours: The Story of Scarface, at your local or via various online emporiums!) is very whiny in a proto-Lisa Kudrow way. This disc boasts a beautiful transfer; never have I been more enthralled by Karloff’s insane intro, which also features the Vile Foaming Liquids treasured by Frank Zappa. This thing has more trap doors and secret passageways than any movie ever made, and good snake action too. It was with this film that I first started confusing Lewis Stone with C. Aubrey Smith, despite the lack of resemblance between the two.. — A
Peeping Tom (Criterion 4K Ultra disc)
The definitive edition of this queasy and compulsively watchable thriller highlighting, for my money, the most heartbreaking serial-killer in history, Karl Boehm’s Mark Lewis. This time around I latched on to scenarist Leo Marks’ and director Michael Powell’s sardonic attitude toward pornography and its consumers, exemplified in a sense by the remark of one of the “special” news-agent item models when Mark shows at the studio: “Why look who’s here — Cecil Beaton!” Another bit of dialogue, “All this filming isn’t healthy,” sums up the theme. If the metaphor seems extreme to you, well. I watched this restoration (on the European Studio Canal edition, which shares some but not all of the extras on the Criterion) on the same day that I watched the Arrow Conan. On that film’s commentary, John Milius recalls Arnold Schwarzenegger’s treatment of the actress playing the slave girl dropped into Conan’s quarters, saying that it was great that Arnold did nothing to make her feel comfortable (she enters the scene topless). “This woman was really scared when she was put in here and you were great because…you never let her get relaxed. You never said a thing the whole day to her.” (Her name was Andrea Guzon.) — A+
The Raid Redemption (Sony 4K Ultra disc)
If I’m not mistaken, this presents the action classic in something above its native definition — the thing was shot with a Panasonic camera that got a 1080 image. SO what’s the point of a 4K upgrade? Revisionism, as director Gareth Evans wanted not to alter the movie’s content but to tweak color correction and correct visual “errors” he considered a product of his own inexperience back in 2011 when he made the movie. Acceptable! This version’s color scheme and muted look is fitting for the docudrama style Evans was emulating to a certain extent. The standard-def BR in the package is old. How old? The trailers are for Looper (2012), Starship Troopers Invasion (also 2012) and, um, Resident Evil Invasion (also 2012, how many of these trailers am I gonna look at), and The Words (okay, I’m glad I kept looking, to be reminded of a movie that really stank and was also made in 2012), and, oh, Safety Not Guaranteed (no comment I guess). The rendering of the movie itself herein is useful and mildly instructive because it really does showcase how Evans went to town in retooling the look of the picture for 4K. Most noticeable is that the blueish tinge, which on old low-def home camcorders indicated that one had shot with the WRONG WHITE BALANCE, is gone. — A
The Russians Are Coming! The Russians Are Coming! (Kino Lorber Blu-ray)
The cover and slipcase reproduce (too small in both cases but what the hell) the immortal Jack Davis poster art, which conveys the madcap aspect of this movie a little too vividly — the Norman Jewison comedy is relatively lowkey throughout, although it builds up a proper head of tension eventually. And ends up surprisingly sweet natured, especially relative to other cinematic Cold War contemplations of the 1960s. My buddy Michael Schlesinger and his buddy Mark Evanier do the commentary, they are amiable and informative and they LOVE the Mirisch Corporation and Walter Mirisch of course. The image here is SUPER handsome (the picture was shot by the great Joseph Biroc) and our commentators highlight this by pointing out that this is the first time on home video that the lavender tint in the switchboard operator’s hair (she’s played by Tessie O’Shea) is rendered correctly. Inspirational commentary nugget: “There are people who see this film and think it’s Gary Burghoff” (Evanier on Michael J. Pollard) — A
Scarlet Street (Kino Lorber 4K Ultra disc)
Jeepers, as Joan Bennett is fond of saying in this touchstone picture, this is gorgeous. It’s been a long journey to 4K for Lang’s lurid remake of Renoir’s La Chienne, and for lovers of the picture (here I am going longish on it), it’s been worth it. My cordial acquaintance Imogen Smith’s commentary is typically detailed and cogent but she definitely disapproves of these characters in ways that I just can’t. Because truly, they are all me. Except for the murdering part. With the newfound clarity of image we can better appreciate how Bennett overdoes it in a very productive way — the faces she makes when Robinson embraces her and kisses her neck, her absolute repugnance at him is tragically vivid. Is there such a thing as too much detail? Well, Eddie G.’s toupee is more apparent than it has been, Otherwise, no notes. Inspirational dialogue: “He’s too dumb to be a phony”—A+
The Warriors (Arrow 4K Ultra disc)
This package arrived on a gloomy afternoon during which my outlook was especially glum and I have to say, the movie made my goddamn day, as did the superb Arrow transfer of 9this is important) the original theatrical version, with my town looking grimy as all get out. The scene with the prom kids still rips. The extras are great. Buy with confidence. — A+
Witness for the Prosecution (Kino Lorber Blu-ray)
As restoration maven Robert A. Harris has noted, Kino Lorber has been hiding its light under a bushel when reissuing titles already in their catalog. He wrote of this: “Yet another Kino ‘re-issue’ title that gives us an upgrade of 50%+ in data throughput, along with a requisite viewable difference in quality at close quarters.” I concur. Another asset newly added is a typically stalwart and astute Joseph McBride commentary in which he details director Billy Wilder’s demonic work ethic and dryly notes, “There’s always somebody complaining about something” with respect to Marlene Dietrich’s on set carping about Tyrone Power’s natty wardrobe. — A
You’re a Big Boy Now/The Rain People (Warner Archive Blu-rays)
With our good friend Francis Ford Coppola back in the news, it’s an opportune time to check out his early work. He’s dismissive of 1966’s You’re A Big Boy Now but cannot and ought not deny 1969’s Rain People, which brought both James Caan and Robert Duvall, both of whom he’d work with more decisively in years following, into his fold. One can see why he might be a little sheepish about Big Boy, a coming-of-age comedy made under the extreme influence of Richard Lester. Although the New York location stuff feels more directly Godardian and of course it was Godard who was influencing Lester back in the day. And you can see how Coppola’s work here might have influenced De Palma for Greetings and Scorsese for Mean Streets. The film’s whimsy does show strain after a while (and some of it borders on lowkey misogyny) and lead Peter Kastner is no Richard Dreyfuss (bet you’d never hear anyone complain about somebody not being Richard Dreyfuss these days, huh?). But the dog, “Emily,” is great, as are the female leads Julie Harris, Karen Black and the tragic Elizabeth Hartman. The quasi-seduction scene scored to John Sebastian’s “Darling Be Home Soon” is bracingly original and intimate and comes closest to Coppola’s true voice. Rain People, on the other hand, feels “Coppola-esque” from the opening shot, as do the frequent frames shot through windows. Look for Eleanor Coppola in a flashback scene as Robert Duvall’s dying wife. A spectacularly bleak and heartbreaking movie — not a young man’s picture at all. Coppola was about 30 when he shot it. Both discs are without extras but look wonderful. — Both pictures: A
Recent Comments