What was the last movie you watched?

[Charles Castle]

The archetype of the hard boiled detective as knight errant shows up in yet another iteration in Debra Granik's dark Winter's Bone (2010). In this case, the unlikely detective is one Ree Dolly, a seventeen year-old girl in the Ozarks of Missouri whose father has skipped out on a bond that threatens to put her and her family out on the streets (or, as she says, "sleeping in a field like dogs"). Ree sets out to find him among an increasingly threatening social web of meth-cooking white trash kin that finds our heroine on a descent into the underworld, and that finds the movie itself sliding into the territory of the horror movie.

This is the hard boiled crime story as sociological document. The desolate picture of rural Missouri here is the decaying result of late capitalism and the filmmakers make a point of examining the wreckage in minute detail. This is a new dark ages, the film suggests, and I don't know if they're wrong. Some might view this as a kind of "poverty porn" designed to appeal to liberal guilt, but I lived in Memphis, Tennessee and I've been to West Plains, Missouri in the winter, where this was filmed. The filmmakers aren't inventing anything. It's just as bleak a landscape as you'll find here, no exaggeration required. Granik is canny enough to include some of the region's rich musical heritage as a hint that we're not talking about someplace devoid of civilization, just devoid of gentrification. There is a terrible beauty in some of the shots in this film, just as there is a terrible beauty in those 1930s-era shots by Walker Evans and Margaret Bourke-White. Misery is sometimes photogenic, even in digital.

Perhaps less obvious than the film's depiction of poverty and crime is the subtle feminist leaning of the film. This is a movie about women left to their own devices to clean up the world of shit their menfolk have left for them. At one point a character asks Ree "Ain't you got no men to do this?",and "No, ma'am, I don't," she says, before stubbornly getting on with her task. Part of her task is keeping her family together. Her mother is an invalid and her sister and brother are too young to take care of themselves, so Ree fills the void. It's very, very subtle, but Ree is a kind of everywoman in spite of her youth. It's interesting, too, that the movie doesn't give her any kind of love interest. She's on her own, to make do the best that she can. It's good that she has a strong streak of stubbornness, because a shrinking violet would not be up to the task. Also interesting is the fact that Ree's primary antagonist, Merab, is also a woman and kind of a monster to boot, but one that displays the same characteristics of doing the dirty jobs that men leave undone. The ultimate confrontation between them finds them united in a task so horrible that it transcends their animosity. Men, for their part, are mostly useless, though the movie is surprising in so far as the two men who the viewer initially thinks are the biggest problems turn out to be Ree's best allies: her no-account uncle, Teardrop, and Satterfield, the bond agent, while the one who seems the most sympathetic at the outset, Sheriff Baskin, turns out to be as weak as all the rest. It's a surprising arrangement of roles.

The filmmakers are smart to marry all of this to a genre story where time is ticking away, because it makes what might otherwise seem like a strident polemic into a thrilling movie. Once the audience is hooked to the gills, it makes all the difference in the world.

Visually, this is about as close to a black and white film as you can get in color. It's desaturated to the point of high style, and it further links the whole enterprise to film noir. Director Debra Granik populates the film with faces that are familiar, but largely unrecognizable. There are no big stars in this, at least, not until Jennifer Lawrence rode the acclaim of this film to bigger and better things. I have no list in front of me as I write this, so I am not certain I consider hers the best performance by an actress that year, but I would definitely place her at the top of the list among lead actresses nominated for the Oscar that year (For reference, Natalie Portman won for Black Swan, Michelle Williams was nominated for Blue Valentine, Nicole Kidman for Rabbit Hole, and Annette Bening for The Kids are Alright). The most familiar faces here are John Hawkes, Dale Dickey, and Sheryl Lee, all of whom have done their more famous work in the background as character actors. The rest of the cast contains a menagerie of memorable grotesques, and while the bones of Winter's Bone are undoubtedly descended from Chandler, Thompson, and even Flannery O'Connor, there's also a hint of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre in the decor and in the behavior of some of the film's less seemly characters. As a matter of fact, chainsaws make an appearance as an integral part of the plot. In any case, it makes an impression.

But make no mistake, this is Jennifer Lawrence's movie, and Granik puts her through the ringer. In doing so, she puts a neat spin on the private eye archetype. It's one thing to see a tough guy getting the shit kicked out of him by the thugs employed against him, a de rigueur element in many noir detective stories, it's quite another to see a seventeen year old girl go through the same treatment and emerge on the other side. There's a world of difference in the power dynamics involved. Ree is just about as low on our society's pecking order as you can get, but she's possessed of that indomitable rightness of purpose you find in any proper knight errant. The movie subtly offers temptation to her and she consistently follows her own moral compass away from it. It's probably what saves her life, actually, but it's also what puts her in the bright circle of crime film heroes.

[stethacantus]

Rampant ( 2018 )
From the studio that made Train to Busan and it's sequel Penisula, this came out between the two films. Way back in Korea's Joseon Dynasty, a corrupt minister looking to overthrow the royal family and become the new empower, deliberately causes a zombie apocalypse when a merchant ship arrives with a zombie infected crew member chained up in their brig. I agree with the critics that the plot runs a little slow, but once you get to the zombie scenes, is well worth watching.

The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies ( 2014 )
Well, at least Peter Jackson sticks the landing on this one. I thought there had to be some sort of massive padding for him to take a short novel like The Hobbit and spin it out into three films, after the three books of the Lord of the Rings only had a single movie each. Most of the padding seemed to be the first movie, the only one to have singing. None of that was in the second or third film. But the third film was the last six chapters, one would be Bilbo traveling back to his home, the last being him discovering his relatives had declared him dead and were selling off his possessions.  That left just the dragons attack on lake town, and the battle of the Five armies, or basically just a couple of chapters which were cinematic. I forgot how extensive the battle scenes in The Lord of the Rings was. This film was as good as the Lord of the Rings films that followed, and had a sentimental ending that was better than the sentimental ending of Return of the King, which leads one to wonder why they never thought of expanding The Lord of the Rings trilogy into nine or more films.

[Charles Castle]

My first encounter with Jamaica Inn (1939) was in Harry Medved's The 50 Worst Movies of All Time and I'll admit that it colors my memory of the film. Of course, I know that Medved and his collaborators were mostly full of crap (Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia? Last Year at Marienbad? The Omen? Seriously?), but the teenage me didn't know any better, and it's hard to shake first impressions. It was years before I was able to actually see the film, though. When I finally tracked it down, it was kind of a disappointment. I mean, it's not particularly good, but it's not transcendentally bad, either. I was actually kind of hoping for transcendentally bad.

Jamaica Inn was the first of three films that Alfred Hitchcock made from Daphne Du Maurier (the other two are Rebecca and The Birds). It was also the last film Hitch made in the UK before he packed up and went to work for Selznick in Hollywood. According to the director himself, it was the most unpleasant experience he ever had behind the camera. It's significant that Jamaica Inn is one of the very few Hitchcock films in which the director does not have a cameo. This last piece of information would have been nice to have when I first saw the film, because when I was originally mainlining Hitchcock films, the director's cameos were something I searched for. You will search in vain for Alfred Hitchcock in this film. My initial impression was a kind of modest delight, given that I have fond memories of the other film that Charles Laughton and Maureen O'Hara made in 1939, The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

The story here is a costume adventure in which orphan Mary Yellan goes to live with her aunt and uncle at Jamaica Inn on a bleak coastline in Cornwall. To her horror, she discovers that her uncle is the head of a gang of wreckers, who mislead ships into the rocks and then loot the wrecks. The wreckers have an aristocratic sponsor in the local magistrate, Sir Humphrey Pengallan, who feeds them shipping information and takes the lion's share of the loot. Among the wreckers is a man named Jem Trehearne, who is accused of embezzling from his fellow rogues. They contrive to hang him, but Mary rescues him and they flee into the countryside, eventually taking refuge, unwittingly, with Pengallan. In Pengallan's company, Trehearne reveals himself as an undercover agent of the crown, investigating the smugglers. With Pengallan seeming to lend his authority, Trehearne and Mary return to the inn to sniff out the ringleader. Pengallan, of course, has other ideas.

Hitchcock's discontent with Jamaica Inn can be traced to a single source: Charles Laughton. In addition bullying his way through the movie, turning what should have been a supporting role into a vanity piece, Laughton was also a co-producer. His will trumped Hitchcock's. Worse, this is one of Laughton's weirdest, most affected performances. He plays Pengallan as an effete and entitled villain, whose bluster and ticks and awful prosthetic nose and ridiculous eyebrows are at odds with just about every other element of the film. At points, he doesn't seem quite real, like he's some kind of demented mannequin come to life. Even as he was conceived, Pengallan could have been made to work, but only if you keep him off screen, a la Harry Lime or Keyser Soze. No such luck. Laughton maneuvers the film to give himself a magnificent death scene, but it doesn't carry any dramatic weight because he has otherwise crafted the character as a complete monster. Mind you, there are pleasures to be had in watching Laughton rampage through the movie, but he tends to crowd out everyone else. Hitchcock included. Hitchcock quite rightly thought that revealing Pengallan as the villain of the piece so early in the film torpedoed the film's suspense quotient, but Laughton overruled him.

In most other respects, the movie is perfectly respectable, if a bit outside of Hitchcock's bailiwick. The movie is briskly paced, with several well-mounted set pieces. The wrecking scene at the beginning of the film would ordinarily set the stage for a grim historical, while the scenes with Trehearne and Mary after they flee the inn compare favorably with some of Hitchcock's other mismatched fugitives in movies like Young and Innocent or Saboteur. The production itself is gorgeous. Jamaica Inn was an "A" picture and it shows. It doesn't hurt that the audience has a nineteen year old Maureen O'Hara to look at, either. O'Hara is probably miscast, but even here she has that steel that became so much a part of her star persona. The other stars of the film are a mixed bag. The romantic lead, played by Robert Newton of all people, is out of his depth. The character actors mostly provide interesting faces in the background.

So it's not a particularly good film, but one of the 50 worst, ever? Uh, no. Not even close. It's interesting that Hitchcock finished one Du Maurier adaptation in which he had unfortunate collaborators only to leave for Hollywood and replay the experience on Rebecca with his 1940s nemesis, David O. Selznick.

Anyway, if there's a lesson for me as a filmgoer it's this: trust to my own eyes and no one else's. Critics can be useful, but they can only provide signposts. It's up to the viewer to deliver the final verdict.

[Charles Castle]

Thanksgiving in my house is kind of a big event. I understand the sore spot Thanksgiving represents to Native Americans and I'm under no illusions about to whom most Americans give thanks, and I'm uneasy with both of those elements of the holiday. Still, Thanksgiving is my second favorite holiday on the calendar after Halloween because it's an opportunity to gather with friends and cook and eat a whole bunch of food. We usually watch a movie afterward in my house. This past November I went a little bit overboard with the food. I did the tofurkey, which for me is a week-long production involving brine, wine, and a food injector. This year, I took advantage of the rosemary bush growing in my sun room and stuck a couple of rosemary branches in with the stuffing. The end result was terrific. The pumpkin I got at the farmer's market made two pies and a loaf of pumpkin bread. I've never made pumpkin pie before, so the resulting pies were a huge crapshoot. Fortunately, they came up sevens. They were awesome. There were roasted root veggies, garlic mashers, cranberry stuffing, plus the various dishes brought to the table by my guests. A splendid time was had by all.

This year's movie was Anne of the Thousand Days (1969, directed by Charles Jarrott), a film I remember watching with my mother when I was a teenager. We used to watch a lot of these kinds of historical friezes, and I'm not sure if my fond memories of these kinds of films are due to the quality of the films or the experience of watching them with her. On the evidence, I suspect the latter, because it's not nearly as good a film as I remembered. Anyone who read my review of Becket a few weeks ago may recall that I have a problem with these kinds of church and state showdowns, because you're choosing between the absolute authority of the Catholic Church and the absolute power of a secular despot, both equally illegitimate if we start from the proposition that authority to govern derives from the consent of the governed. This film compounds the issue by suggesting that Henry VIII of England put aside his wife, Catherine of Aragon, solely because he wanted to fuck Anne Boleyn and damn the consequences. Those crazy Tudors, eh?

Anne Boleyn has the title role of the movie, and I suppose the film is as much hers as it is Henry's. This makes the movie a bit more interesting than Becket or A Man For All Seasons, because it sidesteps the whole Church/State conflict and focuses, instead, on the role of women in Tudor England, and their means of ascending to power (and falling from it). Anne, for her part, has no desire to be a King's mistress and mother bastards for him. She's seen how that plays out with her sister, who was herself one of Henry's discarded mistresses. She'd much rather marry Harry Percy, who she actually loves. Blocked from doing so, she games the system with Henry and won't give it up until she's a queen. And then the movie does an about face, much to its detriment, by making Anne actually fall in love with King Henry and suffer the pain of losing him to indifference once he tires of her. This might have worked on the stage - this film is based on a play by Maxwell Anderson - but it's bad cinema.

Hell, most of the movie is bad cinema. Sure, the actors are good, though Richard Burton's Henry is entirely outshined by Genevieve Bujold's Anne and Irene Pappas's Catherine, and the supporting cast is mostly nondescript. For that matter, the palace intrigue is fun for a while and the costumes are gorgeous. But as cinema, this is dead on the screen. Embalmed, no less. It might as well be a filmed play. What should be glittering and ornate seems drab and utilitarian. And for a film that's chiefly concerned with sex, it's surprisingly sexless.

Bleh. In retrospect, I wish we had gone with the Kurosawa film (High and Low lost a 6-4 vote), instead.

[Edward J Grug III]

My first encounter with Jamaica Inn (1939) was in Harry Medved's The 50 Worst Movies of All Time and I'll admit that it colors my memory of the film. Of course, I know that Medved and his collaborators were mostly full of crap (Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia? Last Year at Marienbad? The Omen? Seriously?), but the teenage me didn't know any better, and it's hard to shake first impressions. It was years before I was able to actually see the film, though. When I finally tracked it down, it was kind of a disappointment. I mean, it's not particularly good, but it's not transcendentally bad, either. I was actually kind of hoping for transcendentally bad.

Jamaica Inn was the first of three films that Alfred Hitchcock made from Daphne Du Maurier (the other two are Rebecca and The Birds). It was also the last film Hitch made in the UK before he packed up and went to work for Selznick in Hollywood. According to the director himself, it was the most unpleasant experience he ever had behind the camera. It's significant that Jamaica Inn is one of the very few Hitchcock films in which the director does not have a cameo. This last piece of information would have been nice to have when I first saw the film, because when I was originally mainlining Hitchcock films, the director's cameos were something I searched for. You will search in vain for Alfred Hitchcock in this film. My initial impression was a kind of modest delight, given that I have fond memories of the other film that Charles Laughton and Maureen O'Hara made in 1939, The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

The story here is a costume adventure in which orphan Mary Yellan goes to live with her aunt and uncle at Jamaica Inn on a bleak coastline in Cornwall. To her horror, she discovers that her uncle is the head of a gang of wreckers, who mislead ships into the rocks and then loot the wrecks. The wreckers have an aristocratic sponsor in the local magistrate, Sir Humphrey Pengallan, who feeds them shipping information and takes the lion's share of the loot. Among the wreckers is a man named Jem Trehearne, who is accused of embezzling from his fellow rogues. They contrive to hang him, but Mary rescues him and they flee into the countryside, eventually taking refuge, unwittingly, with Pengallan. In Pengallan's company, Trehearne reveals himself as an undercover agent of the crown, investigating the smugglers. With Pengallan seeming to lend his authority, Trehearne and Mary return to the inn to sniff out the ringleader. Pengallan, of course, has other ideas.

Hitchcock's discontent with Jamaica Inn can be traced to a single source: Charles Laughton. In addition bullying his way through the movie, turning what should have been a supporting role into a vanity piece, Laughton was also a co-producer. His will trumped Hitchcock's. Worse, this is one of Laughton's weirdest, most affected performances. He plays Pengallan as an effete and entitled villain, whose bluster and ticks and awful prosthetic nose and ridiculous eyebrows are at odds with just about every other element of the film. At points, he doesn't seem quite real, like he's some kind of demented mannequin come to life. Even as he was conceived, Pengallan could have been made to work, but only if you keep him off screen, a la Harry Lime or Keyser Soze. No such luck. Laughton maneuvers the film to give himself a magnificent death scene, but it doesn't carry any dramatic weight because he has otherwise crafted the character as a complete monster. Mind you, there are pleasures to be had in watching Laughton rampage through the movie, but he tends to crowd out everyone else. Hitchcock included. Hitchcock quite rightly thought that revealing Pengallan as the villain of the piece so early in the film torpedoed the film's suspense quotient, but Laughton overruled him.

In most other respects, the movie is perfectly respectable, if a bit outside of Hitchcock's bailiwick. The movie is briskly paced, with several well-mounted set pieces. The wrecking scene at the beginning of the film would ordinarily set the stage for a grim historical, while the scenes with Trehearne and Mary after they flee the inn compare favorably with some of Hitchcock's other mismatched fugitives in movies like Young and Innocent or Saboteur. The production itself is gorgeous. Jamaica Inn was an "A" picture and it shows. It doesn't hurt that the audience has a nineteen year old Maureen O'Hara to look at, either. O'Hara is probably miscast, but even here she has that steel that became so much a part of her star persona. The other stars of the film are a mixed bag. The romantic lead, played by Robert Newton of all people, is out of his depth. The character actors mostly provide interesting faces in the background.

So it's not a particularly good film, but one of the 50 worst, ever? Uh, no. Not even close. It's interesting that Hitchcock finished one Du Maurier adaptation in which he had unfortunate collaborators only to leave for Hollywood and replay the experience on Rebecca with his 1940s nemesis, David O. Selznick.

Anyway, if there's a lesson for me as a filmgoer it's this: trust to my own eyes and no one else's. Critics can be useful, but they can only provide signposts. It's up to the viewer to deliver the final verdict.

While I agree it's not in the ballpark of the 50 worst films, this is, I think, the only Hitchcock movie I couldn't make it all the way through. There's a few that I won't watch ever again, most likely, but this is the only one I just couldn't be bothered completing.

[Charles Castle]

My first encounter with Jamaica Inn (1939) was in Harry Medved's The 50 Worst Movies of All Time and I'll admit that it colors my memory of the film. Of course, I know that Medved and his collaborators were mostly full of crap (Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia? Last Year at Marienbad? The Omen? Seriously?), but the teenage me didn't know any better, and it's hard to shake first impressions. It was years before I was able to actually see the film, though. When I finally tracked it down, it was kind of a disappointment. I mean, it's not particularly good, but it's not transcendentally bad, either. I was actually kind of hoping for transcendentally bad.

Jamaica Inn was the first of three films that Alfred Hitchcock made from Daphne Du Maurier (the other two are Rebecca and The Birds). It was also the last film Hitch made in the UK before he packed up and went to work for Selznick in Hollywood. According to the director himself, it was the most unpleasant experience he ever had behind the camera. It's significant that Jamaica Inn is one of the very few Hitchcock films in which the director does not have a cameo. This last piece of information would have been nice to have when I first saw the film, because when I was originally mainlining Hitchcock films, the director's cameos were something I searched for. You will search in vain for Alfred Hitchcock in this film. My initial impression was a kind of modest delight, given that I have fond memories of the other film that Charles Laughton and Maureen O'Hara made in 1939, The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

The story here is a costume adventure in which orphan Mary Yellan goes to live with her aunt and uncle at Jamaica Inn on a bleak coastline in Cornwall. To her horror, she discovers that her uncle is the head of a gang of wreckers, who mislead ships into the rocks and then loot the wrecks. The wreckers have an aristocratic sponsor in the local magistrate, Sir Humphrey Pengallan, who feeds them shipping information and takes the lion's share of the loot. Among the wreckers is a man named Jem Trehearne, who is accused of embezzling from his fellow rogues. They contrive to hang him, but Mary rescues him and they flee into the countryside, eventually taking refuge, unwittingly, with Pengallan. In Pengallan's company, Trehearne reveals himself as an undercover agent of the crown, investigating the smugglers. With Pengallan seeming to lend his authority, Trehearne and Mary return to the inn to sniff out the ringleader. Pengallan, of course, has other ideas.

Hitchcock's discontent with Jamaica Inn can be traced to a single source: Charles Laughton. In addition bullying his way through the movie, turning what should have been a supporting role into a vanity piece, Laughton was also a co-producer. His will trumped Hitchcock's. Worse, this is one of Laughton's weirdest, most affected performances. He plays Pengallan as an effete and entitled villain, whose bluster and ticks and awful prosthetic nose and ridiculous eyebrows are at odds with just about every other element of the film. At points, he doesn't seem quite real, like he's some kind of demented mannequin come to life. Even as he was conceived, Pengallan could have been made to work, but only if you keep him off screen, a la Harry Lime or Keyser Soze. No such luck. Laughton maneuvers the film to give himself a magnificent death scene, but it doesn't carry any dramatic weight because he has otherwise crafted the character as a complete monster. Mind you, there are pleasures to be had in watching Laughton rampage through the movie, but he tends to crowd out everyone else. Hitchcock included. Hitchcock quite rightly thought that revealing Pengallan as the villain of the piece so early in the film torpedoed the film's suspense quotient, but Laughton overruled him.

In most other respects, the movie is perfectly respectable, if a bit outside of Hitchcock's bailiwick. The movie is briskly paced, with several well-mounted set pieces. The wrecking scene at the beginning of the film would ordinarily set the stage for a grim historical, while the scenes with Trehearne and Mary after they flee the inn compare favorably with some of Hitchcock's other mismatched fugitives in movies like Young and Innocent or Saboteur. The production itself is gorgeous. Jamaica Inn was an "A" picture and it shows. It doesn't hurt that the audience has a nineteen year old Maureen O'Hara to look at, either. O'Hara is probably miscast, but even here she has that steel that became so much a part of her star persona. The other stars of the film are a mixed bag. The romantic lead, played by Robert Newton of all people, is out of his depth. The character actors mostly provide interesting faces in the background.

So it's not a particularly good film, but one of the 50 worst, ever? Uh, no. Not even close. It's interesting that Hitchcock finished one Du Maurier adaptation in which he had unfortunate collaborators only to leave for Hollywood and replay the experience on Rebecca with his 1940s nemesis, David O. Selznick.

Anyway, if there's a lesson for me as a filmgoer it's this: trust to my own eyes and no one else's. Critics can be useful, but they can only provide signposts. It's up to the viewer to deliver the final verdict.

While I agree it's not in the ballpark of the 50 worst films, this is, I think, the only Hitchcock movie I couldn't make it all the way through. There's a few that I won't watch ever again, most likely, but this is the only one I just couldn't be bothered completing.

Yeah, I watched it again just to be able to write something about every Hitchcock film. I can't imagine ever watching again without proper compensation. Similarly, I recently re-watched Under Capricorn for the same reason and don't expect to be returning.

[Pastor of Muppets]

Last night I went to see the new M. Night Shyamalan movie, Knock at the Cabin.  It was really good and very haunting.  Four people -- Leonard, Sabrina, Adriane, and Redmond all start getting these frequent visions of a pending apocalypse, and are told that on a specific day they will need to go to a cabin and there, a family will be found.  Someone in the family must willingly sacrifice another in the family to prevent the end of the world and the death of all of humanity.  In the cabin are married couple Eric and Andrew, and their 7 year old adoptive daughter Wen.


Over the course of the film, each of the group of 4 tries to overcome Eric and Andrew's skepticism, as progressively worse disasters begin to engulf the planet. First, a series of earthquakes and huge tsunamis.  Next, a deadly flu pandemic that is especially dangerous to children.  Then, hundreds of airplanes spontaneously begin to fall out of the sky.  This one I thought was the most haunting.  Lastly, the skies darken and all over the world lightning strikes set cities ablaze.

So I thought it was a really chilling movie and I strongly recommend it.  I especially loved Dave Bautista's performance as a second grade teacher.  He really played the "gentle giant" archetype well.  I loved that the group of four had all been driven to the brink of madness by their visions, and their fear and frustration mounted as they begged the captive family to make the difficult choice.  Normally, a group of people armed with deadly weapons who break into a house and tie up an innocent family would be horrible villains, but it was clear that none of them wanted to do this, and hated that they had no choice.

[ihavemyreasons]

Aniara (2019)
Low budget swedish scifi flick (or maybe not low budget as far as swedish scifi goes, I don't really know).
Most of the CGI was on par with SciFy channel show CGI. Some scenes take place in obvious office building interiors.
Set up is space cruise ship is taking passengers on a trip from an overcrowded Earth to drop them off on Mars on a journey that is supposed to take 3 weeks, but a few days in a disaster happens that blows it way off course with no way to slow down or change directions.
It's bleak and has a number of turns that I didn't predict (along with one that was really obvious) and despite some scenes that are rather cheesy I really enjoyed it.
Not great, but loved not being able to predict everything that was going to hapoen and I've seen far worse from big buget Hollywood

[stethacantus]

The Great Battle ( 2018 )
This is actually a great film which somehow unrecognized as such outside of South Korea. Based on the historic events of the 3 month siege and battle of Ansi Fortress which took place in Korea in the summer of 645 during the invasion of  Tang empire (China) into what was then the Goguryeo kingdom. A massive army of around 30,000 soldiers has defeated the Goguryeo army, forcing what was left to retreat to the nation's capitol to defend their leader. Ansi Fortress is in between the Tangs and the Goguryeo capitol. While they could easily bypass Ansi, which only has 5,000 troops,  and directly attack the capitol, Emperor Taizong decides that Ansi will be  easy to defeat, which should only take a day at the most. Abandoned by the Goguryeo government, Ansi holds off the invaders for three months before an army of 150,000 reinforcements from the capitol finally arrive. A compelling story with really great battle sequences which is worth seeking out ( DVD comes with an English dub track for those of you who do not like subtitles. )

( Frank Miller's ) Sin City ( 2005  )
I know I saw this movie a while back, and probably even reviewed it here. But could not find any evidence I actually owned a copy. Anyway, this DVD boasts both the theatrical version, and a new unrated extended cut. And I was going to watch the extended cut... until I found out it was the individual stories in separate movies as posed to edited into an extended version of the movie. So decided to watch the theatrical version and gradually watch the extended mini movies throughout the week. What can I say about this film other than it was done in a style that was praised by critics here, but panned by critics in all the other Frank Miller films. I am not sure if that is due to this film having stronger material or of audiences quickly tiring of the gimmick of a film recapturing the pen and ink style of a graphic novel. Which leaves one wondering if this film is as good as one thinks it is, or we are just dazzled by the style. I guess I could answer that question next week when I finally get around to seeing the sequel. But as for now, this is a thoroughly   entertaining mock Noir film.

[Charles Castle]

Under Capricorn (1949) occupies a pivotal position in the career of Alfred Hitchcock. After completing his contract with David O. Selznick, the director formed his own production company. Selznick was, famously, as much of a control freak as Hitchcock and their partnership was not a happy one. Forming his own production company gave Hitchcock the freedom to do as he liked. The first film Hitchcock produced for his new Transatlantic Pictures company was the highly experimental Rope, in which the film is constructed to appear as a single long take. It was also Hitchcock's first film in color. In spite of this, Rope is an archetypal Hitchcock film: it's a suspense film, laced with themes of guilt and psychosexual derangement. On the surface, Under Capricorn appears to be very far from Hitchcock's signature idiom. It's a costume drama, for one. It's not particularly suspenseful for another. But that's not to say that it's out of character. Under Capricorn hearkens back to Hitchcock as the maker of melodramas in the 1930s. Additionally, it borrows a number of elements from Rebecca, as if the director were making the film as a rebuke to Selznick's meddling in that film. Finally, it revisits Rope's long-take aesthetic, this time without the conceit of splicing them into a single, uninterrupted shot. Unfortunately for the director, it was the wrong project at the wrong time. Audiences, expecting a thriller from Hitchcock, didn't get one and stayed away. Additionally, this film appeared just as the scandal of star Ingrid Bergman's affair with Roberto Rossellini became public, and the actress herself became box office poison. While Rope had been merely unsuccessful at the box office, Under Capricorn was an outright fiasco. According to the director, it was such a huge bomb that its financial backers repossessed the film, which perhaps explains why it has always been among the director's least seen pictures. But maybe not only that. Although the French have always thought Under Capricorn was a legitimately great film, that opinion is not generally shared. It's a regular candidate for "worst Hitchcock movie." I've even seen it on lists of "the worst movie ever made," which is, frankly, unearned. After Under Capricorn, Hitchcock went back to making thrillers. His next two films were in black and white and refined what we think of as a Hitchcock film. And he placed a premium on the entertainment value of his films. He became a populist filmmaker. The experimental filmmaker of his Transatlantic films wouldn't resurface again for another decade.

I originally saw Under Capricorn on cable (probably on American Movie Classics) when I was a teenager. What I do remember is being bored out of my mind by it. I haven't seen the movie again since then, but it has always been one of the movies I point to as an example of a great director making a really bad movie. But, as I've mentioned in some of my other writing, I no longer trust the opinions of my younger self. To be sure, that kid is just not me anymore and in many, many things, I was an idiot. Anyway, when i decided to task myself with writing an essay on every Hitchcock film I knew that Under Capricorn was something I would need to revisit.

Under Capricorn is a kind of weird conflation of Rebecca and Gaslight, reimagined as a technicolor period piece. The story follows a newly emigrated Irishman as he arrives in 1831 Sydney, Australia with the aim of making his fortune. Charles Adare is the cousin of the new governor of the colony and a general ne'er do well. He hasn't got a penny to his name. He's told that he can get rich in Australia if he is willing to work for it, but work is something that's an anathema to him. Instead, he falls in with successful, but disreputable, business man Sam Flusky, who after serving a sentence as a transportee, has become wealthy. Flusky enlists Adare in a scheme to expand his own land holdings, much to the consternation of Adare's cousin, who basically disowns him. When Adare takes Henrietta to a state ball, Flusky's jealousy overcomes him and he ends up disgracing the three of them in front of Sydney society. Back at his manor, the truth of their circumstances and dark past comes out. Flusky ends up accidentally shooting Adare, and when he's faced with the prospect of being hanged for committing a second crime, Henrietta owns up to her own culpability in his original conviction. Meanwhile, Milly makes her move.

Sometimes my younger self isn't wrong: Under Capricorn is dramatically inert for two thirds of its running time. Part of this is the conceit of the long take. The sheer number of shots in which the camera follows a character through a door suggests that Hitch intends each doorway to lead deeper into the film's mysteries. And that's certainly defensible in theory.  Unfortunately, there's a time dilation effect in these shots that Hitchcock doesn't seem aware of, and though many of his shots  may symbolically be delving deeper into the mystery, they do not advance the plot by revealing new information to the viewer. It's not until the film begins revealing its secrets in earnest, in the actual text of the film rather than in subtext, that the film comes to any kind of life. This happens very late in the film and provides its characters with a film noir-ish case of no exit. If Henrietta persists in her confession, she'll be deported to be tried. If not, Flusky will be a second offender and back to the chain gang for him, or the gallows. Adare, for himself, has a moral dilemma, too: send up Flusky and lose Henrietta. Save him and lose Henrietta. This all sounds compelling, no? The trouble is that long build up. It doesn't allow the audience to become invested in the characters except, perhaps, in retrospect. It's a film that stands up to a second viewing better than it stands up to a first.

Usually, however, my younger self was an idiot, and I think that may be the case here in spite of my misgivings about the film, because my younger self's complaints are all about the plot of the film (my younger self had similar complaints about Vertigo, by the way, and I am happy to report from the future that obviously I was totally off base about that film). This film is a formal experiment and it seems only right to meet with it on those grounds. As a formal object this film is very much of a piece with the rest of Hitchcock's filmography, though one finds the director re-purposing some of his suspense techniques to other ends. One good example of this is the scene right before the Governor's ball, in which Flusky suggests that Henrietta deserves to have a string of rubies to go with the gown she's wearing. When she pooh poohs the idea, there's a wonderful sense of deflation in Flusky, followed by a sly movement of the camera to show him holding a string of rubies behind his back. This is comparable to the use of objects in Hitchcock's other films as emblems of psychological states (the money in Psycho, the glass of milk in Suspicion), but here is rather emblematic of an emotional state instead. Whatever else Flusky does during the rest of the movie, the rubies are a talisman that tells the audience that he's devoted to Henrietta. And those long takes? There's a sensual quality to them independent of what the movie is about, a lot like the long gallery scene in Vertigo. It's filmmaking for the sake of filmmaking and to hell with the plot. The film is beautifully shot, too, regardless of whether or not I think the color palette is appropriate to the movie's story. This is Hitchcock playing around with the toys, and in some ways, he's reinterpreting the movies he shot for Selznick: the evil housekeeper is from Rebecca, the sinister beverage is from Suspicion, the effect of poison being mistaken for alcoholism is from Notorious. Meanwhile, the director is mapping out techniques for the future. Vertigo is the direct beneficiary of Under Capricorn's experiments, I think.

Still, even viewing it with new eyes, Under Capricorn has its share of problems. The biggest problem is the casting. The lead actor, Michael Wilding, is a complete cypher: He's callow, lacking in charisma, allegedly a bad boy but without the allure. When the movie is centered on him, I started to check out. When the movie relegates him to the background in the last act it improves dramatically. Both Joseph Cotten and Ingrid Bergman are miscast, too, and the film, ostensibly containing nothing but Irish characters, is a polyglot of accents. Only Bergman attempts an Irish accent, and she loses it mid-film. Making matters worse is the fact that the film has divided loyalties. Henrietta is clearly in love with both her husband and Adare, and the movie doesn't know how to handle that. Further, both of them elbow to the forefront as the romantic lead at points during the movie. It makes for a bit of a muddle. (I can only speculate on how much of this muddle results from catering to the production code). That said, Margaret Leighton is terrific as Milly, and if comparisons to Judith Anderson's sinister Mrs. Danvers in Rebecca are inevitable, then Leighton is up to the challenge. In some ways, she's a more comprehensible character, given that Rebecca had to dance around the fact that Mrs. Danvers and Rebecca De Winter were almost assuredly lovers. Milly, heterosexual and evil, can wear that all up front. Bergman, for her part, gives a terrific performance too, even if the accents trip her up. That vulnerability and aura of tragedy that was so much a part of her screen image is an ideal match for Henrietta Flusky.

I'm not sure what to think of Under Capricorn now. It's not a great film, I don't think - it may not even be a good film - but it's a more interesting film than I remembered and not one that can be entirely dismissed as one of Hitch's misfires. It's at least as interesting as Rope, and taken together, Rope and Under Capricorn set the stage for what turned out to be Hitchcock's golden decade.

[stethacantus]

Everything Everywhere All At Once ( 2022  )
11 Acadamy award nominations including Best Picture, Best Actress for Michelle Yeoh after being snubbed for Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon 20 years ago, and a Best Supporting Actor nomination for Short Round from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom who hasn't been in a major film since The Goonies.  Not to  mention a shit load of nominations and awards from BAFA, Goden Globes, Saturn, and several other critics awards and festivals. The most celebrated film of the year. And I just didn't love it. It just felt like a weak Terry Gilliam film. It was entertaining enough, and had strong acting from all the actors. But for the shitload of nominations this acquired, I was expecting a lot more. This fell withing the martial arts category, and the poster features the characters in various martial arts poses. But there is surprisingly very few fights. Okay, a lot more fights than you would get in a Chuck Norris film, and those counted as martial arts. But at this point, I am expecting more than two good fight scenes in a 2 hour 20 min film that is being promoted as martial arts and starring Michelle Yeoh.

( Frank Miller's ) Sin City: A Dame to Kill For ( 2014 )
This one got a lot of bad reviews and bombed at the box office. Perhaps because the first movie was revolutionary, and this one made 9 years later, wasn't.  So may others had  copied the style of Sin City, including Frank Miller himself who used it for his adaption of The Spirit ( 2008 ). But watching both films just a week apart, I can say that the sequel was nearly as good as the first. Sure, the first had better stories. Because the best stories from the comic book were used in the original, and this one had to settle for the lesser stories from the comic book.  My only problem with this film is it's questionable continuity.  It features both a prequel story and a sequel story that seem to take place during the same timeline. But other than that, I was just as entertained with this as I was with the original.

[Charles Castle]

Thunderball (1965, directed by Terence Young) is the James Bond movie with which I have the least familiarity. I think I've seen it exactly once, and that on cable way back in the early 1980s. Thunderball is the first Bond film to be filmed in 2.35:1 widescreen, and I know that I've never seen it wide before. And yet, Thunderball somehow took root in my movie consciousness in spite of this. Part of this is the remake, Never Say Never Again, which I've seen several times (and remains the only one of the Connery Bonds I've seen in an actual movie theater). Part of it is Tom Jones's theme song, which is in heavy rotation on one of my favorite YouTube playlists; I think it's the best of the Bond themes, bar none. But the movie itself? It turns out that I had forgotten most of it in the thirty years since I first saw it.

It's... interesting. All of the associations I have with the movie, the ones that have nothing to do with the movie itself, overlayered the experience of watching it. Certainly, the baggage I bring to the movie isn't its fault, but it's there none the less.

Thunderball turns out to have more elements that have shown up in parody than any of the other Bond films I can think of. Certainly, there's the spy car, which is the series most elaborate gadget up to that point. And the rocket pack - which was real, by the way. And the shark tank. And Bond unmasking a SPECTRE agent in drag in the prologue (a moment that I can't even watch without hearing the voice of Austin Powers exclaiming: "That's a MAN, baby!"). In its own way, Thunderball is as seminal a Bond movie as its predecessors. But that's not necessarily a good thing. You also begin to see the cracks in the formula. Hell, the movie itself is aware of the cracks in the formula and has some fun lampooning them. I mean, this is a retread of Dr. No and Goldfinger, with an escalating budget and an escalating level of ridiculousness. The reliance on gadgets on both sides of the fence was becoming troublesome.

Still, the franchise hadn't jumped the rails just yet. There are still pleasures to be had. A key part of the pleasures Thunderball offers is the triumvirate of Bond girls: Claudine Auger, Luciana Paluzzi, and Hammer star Martine Beswick. It knows how to use its eye candy, too. This is a movie that, metaphorically, goes back to the beach in order to show off its stars to their best advantage. The production design is eye candy, too. Thunderball had a larger budget than the first three Bond films combined, and it lavished that budget on Ken Adams's department. It compounds this by filming his sets in glorious widescreen. This is very much the best-looking of the Connery Bonds.

The story here finds SPECTRE's number 2 man, Emilio Largo stealing two atomic bombs from a NATO training mission in order to extort a ransom from the NATO member nations. Bond, for his part, stumbles up on the plot when he happens across suspicious goings-on at the spa where he's recovering from his last mission. The trail leads him to Nassau, where Largo has a yacht. Largo's ward is Domino, and she's the weak link in the organization because Domino's brother is the poor bastard who flies the mission. SPECTRE sees him as disposable, a fact that Bond eventually uses to leverage Domino's collaboration. Also in Nassau is Fiona Volpe, a SPECTRE assassin, who has her eye on bond. The early part of the movie finds Bond fencing with Volpe and her goons. It's actually kind of disappointing that the movie disposes of her so early. She's a LOT more interesting than Largo. C'est la guerre, I guess.

From my point of view, Largo gets screwed by my own personal associations with the movie. Adolfo Celi plays Largo as a pretty generic Bond villain: ethnic and maimed and seemingly evil for the sake of being evil. Unfortunately for Celi, another actor played Largo later on, and whatever the faults of Never Say Never Again, Klaus Maria Brandauer is not one of them. He brought Largo to life in a way that Thunderball completely fails to do.

Fiona Volpe is the first true femme fatale in the Bond series, unless you want to count Lotte Lenya, but she's also one of the key instances of the self-awareness the Bond movies have always dabbled in. She throws Bond's seduction back in his face: "But of course, I forgot your ego, Mr. Bond. James Bond, the one where he has to make love to a woman, and she starts to hear heavenly choirs singing. She repents, and turns to the side of right and virtue... but not this one!" In doing so, she's actually criticizing Goldfinger (a film that probably needs more criticism than it gets) and the way it turns on the ridiculous notion that the plot is undone when Bond, epic cocksman that he is, gives the lesbian Pussy Galore a good effing. It's nice to see the series itself even the score. What was it that Godard once said: "The best way to criticize a movie is to make another movie?" Yeah. Like that.

[Charles Castle]

Never Say Never Again (1983, directed by Irvin Kershner) simply would not work without the presence of Sean Connery to lend it legitimacy. Connery walked away from Bond twice a decade earlier (after You Only Live Twice and Diamonds Are Forever). Twelve years elapsed before he returned to the role. It's one of his best turns as Bond and he is the principal reason for watching the movie. Say what you like about the other actors who have played Bond, Connery forever owns the part. The Bond in this film is a little long in the tooth, actually, but Connery plays him with more aplomb than Roger Moore ever mustered when he got too old for the part. The movie seems to recognize Connery's age and Bond seems to be returning to service in the context of the film after a long hiatus. More importantly, Connery was a better actor twelve years further on, and was more in command of his screen presence. This ease with his image lends him even more credibility as an aging secret agent.

In Never Say Never Again the Double-0 agents have been retired after a new regime takes over MI-6. They are regarded as an antiquated and extreme tool. In spite of this, they are kept in tip top shape if the need to activate them again might arise. Chief among the embarassments in the Double-0 corps is James Bond, Agent 007, whose insubordination is legendary. The new head of MI-6 decides that the reason for 007's intractability lies in his diet and lifestyle. "Too many 'free radicals,'" he concludes. "'Free radicals?'" Bond asks. "Toxins built up from eating too much red meat," M replies, "too many vodka martinis, and too much white bread." "I shall give up the white bread," Bond retorts, but to no avail. He is packed off to a health spa to purge his system (with predictable results). While at the spa, Bond stumbles onto a plot to steal two American cruise missiles carrying live nuclear warheads. A pilot with the US Air Force has become a puppet for SPECTRE and is recuperating at the spa from an operation that replaced his cornea with a cornea matching that of the president of the United States. SPECTRE's plot goes ahead, and they succeed in capturing the missiles. Their agent in this is shipping magnate, Largo, who plans to implement a scheme called "The Tears of Allah." 007 is reactivated to recover the warheads and foil the scheme. He butts heads with Largo, who he duels in a video game battle for world domination, and with Largo's henchwoman, Fatima Blush who is intent on killing Bond. In the meantime, Bond attempts to seduce Largo's paramour, Domino. This drives Largo to the point of insane jealousy, and he decides to put them both out of the picture. Bond, meanwhile, has discovered that Largo's "Tears of Allah" plan aims to set the largest oilfield in the world on fire with a nuclear explosion.

Never Say Never Again is ostensibly a remake of Thunderball, the producers having acquired film rights to the story after a court settlement gave film and literary rights to the screenplay to Ian Fleming's collaborator Kevin McClory. In order to sell the movie as a Bond film - Connery aside - the movie assembles a bunch of Bond-movie cliches. Bond pays a visit to the Q branch for some spy gadgets, Bond sleeps with a number of easily seduced women, the head of SPECTRE strokes a white cat, etc. Director Irvin Kershner pokes fun at some of these conventions. Traditionally, Bond engages his arch-enemy in a game of chance in the casino (there's always a casino, which is why the only American location in the series was Las Vegas in Diamonds Are Forever). Bond's usual game of choice is baccarat. Here, the casino is stocked with video games and Bond and Largo engage in a holographic game of world domination. Bond is also usually supplied with a spy car, packed with weaponry - traditionally an Aston Martin, until BMW footed a huge product placement bill to put Bond into one of their cars. In this movie, Bond gets a motorcycle instead. Perhaps most interesting is the casting of Bernie Casey, a black actor, as Bond's perennial ally in the CIA, Felix Lighter. Some of these ideas, particularly the casino filled with video games, are pretty silly and instantly date the movie.

Bond movies are usually only as good as their villains. In this regard, Never Say Never Again is pretty good. The casting of Max Von Sydow as the head of SPECTRE works marvelously. This film was made at a time when Von Sydow was having a great deal of fun at Hollywood's expense, appearing in romps like Flash Gordon and Conan the Barbarian. Here, he clearly relishes his role as the power behind the throne, brief as it is. Klaus Maria Brandauer may well be the most interesting and most complex of Bond's supervillains. He is clearly off his nut, but Brandauer plays him with a modicum of restraint. The script even provides him with motives that are clearly comprehensible, beyond the normal "I want to rule the world from my island fortress" so common to Bond villains. There is a scene where Domino confronts Largo and says what is obvious: "You're insane!" she says. Largo nods distractedly and agrees: "Yah." Brandauer is probably the best actor to ever appear as a Bond supervillain and he elevates the role to his level instead of vice versa. Barbara Carrera is another matter. She is a limited actress who seemed to have found a niche playing psychotic fashion plates during the early eighties. Her character has a wonderful name - Fatima Blush - but Carrera is clearly giving the same performance she gave in I, The Jury. Perhaps that's not a bad thing. Sometimes typecasting works pretty well, and since her character is essentially the same, what the heck. She sure looks good in the role and limited acting ability or no, she blows Kim Basinger off the screen. Basinger, an equally limited actress(at least at this point), is a cipher, a vapid accessory to both Largo and then Bond. This is very early in her acting career and her inexperience shows. As M, Bond's uptight boss, Edward Fox is a hoot. He plays the role as a preening martinet who has discovered new age nutrition. He's hilarious, and certainly the most engaging "M" until Dame Judi Dench took over the role in Goldeneye.

Unlike most of the Bond films from the Albert Broccoli/United Artists series, Never Say Never Again seems to have its own identity, in spite of the wholesale sampling of Bond tradition on display in the film. Part of this stems from the source material: Thunderball was the film that followed Goldfinger and the Bond films had yet to adopt the Goldfinger model for almost all of the subsequent films. As a result, Never Say Never Again avoids many of the pitfalls that make movies like Moonraker and A View to A Kill almost unwatchable. And as the third coming of Sean Connery as Bond, it stakes itself out a nearly unassailable position in the Bond canon.

[ihavemyreasons]

History of the World Part 1 (1981)
Decided to watch after learning Part 2 is coming out after more than 40 years as a Hulu limited series.
Had seen it before over 30 years ago and remembered enjoying it. There is a line in the movie that I still use whenever anyone says I or someone else says someone looks like something. "You look like you don't feel well" or "you look like my cousin" gets an immediate "well you look like a bucket of shit" response. (In movie what prompted that response is when Mel Brooks is told he looks like the piss boy).
Despite part 1 being in the title and the movie ending with teasers for part 2, part of the joke was that a part 2 was never planned.
Current viewing - movie hasn't aged well. Full of old vaudeville like routines and juvenile fart jokes. Didn't hate it but only scene that I thoought rose to Mel Brooke at his best was the inqusition musical scene.
Also had forgotten that a number of jokes in the movie were based on cameos - many, many of whom you probably have to be my age or older to recognize.

[Edward J Grug III]

movie hasn't aged well. Full of old vaudeville like routines and juvenile fart jokes.

OK, but that describes ALL Mel Brooks work