Reviews

  • Willard (1971)

    Willard (1971)

    (On Cable TV, July 2019) You could call Willard “a boy and his rats,” because its idiosyncratic premise has an isolated mama’s boy discovering a particular affinity with the rodents and convincing them to do his bidding, including at least one justifiable murder along the way. Despite the silliness, there’s a surprising amount of thematic material here as the film spends a lot of time describing its protagonist and his interactions with his limited world. The rat effects are not always convincing, but it’s the thought that counts. Bruce Davidson is suitably off-kilter in an unusual character, while Sondra Locke has one of her earliest roles here as the love interest. The direction is a bit too bland to make for more than a creature chiller horror movie and the film doesn’t quite go as far in black comedy than it could have done. Still, the premise works in Willard’s favour, and quirkiness certainly isn’t a bad thing.

  • Heaven’s Gate (1980)

    Heaven’s Gate (1980)

    (On Cable TV, July 2019) Some films live in infamy no matter their content, and so Heaven’s Gate is usually remembered nowadays as one of the most infamous bombs of all time, a critical and commercial flop so famous that it not only destroyed the career of then-renowned writer-director Michael Cimino, but killed the studio United Artists and is credited with ending the New Hollywood movement, thus altering the history of movies themselves. Whew. Of course, that’s not true: New Hollywood was already on the way out by the time Star Wars opened in theatres three years earlier, United Artists was being mismanaged by its corporate overlords, and Cimino’s reputation as a difficult auteur was going to catch up with him sooner or later. The point being that Heaven’s Gate commercial flop and troubled production history certainly contaminated its critical reception: Like near-contemporary Ishtar, critics piled on the film far beyond its putative lack of qualities. The result, for contemporary moviegoers approaching Heaven’s Gate by way of its reputation, may be a pleasant surprise at the film’s undeniable qualities. Now, let’s be careful: I am not accusing Heaven’s Gate of being a good movie. It’s incredibly indulgent, often boring, exasperating at times and certainly not as good as it could have been given its premise, cast or means. If you’re allergic to the New Hollywood style, with its digressions, long-winded pacing, gratuitous and repetitive scenery shots, then this will not help you. On the other hand… this is clearly a big-budget production (one of the main causes of its reputation) and a lot of it is on the screen, what with a convincing recreation of the American West, elaborately constructed set-pieces and convincing sequences. The cast remains fascinating forty years later (if you’ve ever wanted to see Kris Kristofferson and Christopher Walken go at each other in a fist-fight, then this is the movie for you) and Cimino’s eye as a director, while flawed in terms of pacing and concision, remains a cut above most other directors of the time. Even the flawed quirks of the film (including an interminable sequence with a roller-skating fiddler) are sort of impressive in their own way. I don’t really like Heaven’s Gate and will not try to rehabilitate it, but it’s better than expected and better than what its reputation would suggest.

  • Spider-Man: Far from Home (2019)

    Spider-Man: Far from Home (2019)

    (In Theaters, July 2019) Life goes on after The Avengers: Endgame, and so Spider-Man: Far from Home is our first glimpse at the way the MCU reconfigured itself in the wake of its latest event movies. In the Spider-Man context, it does mean going back to a more basic adventures, albeit not an unspectacular one: As Peter Parker and his high-school class heads over to Europe as part of their senior year, trouble keeps following Parker no matter where he goes. The psychological impact of previous movies isn’t forgotten (Parker’s hero worship of Tony Stark ends up being one of the film’s dramatic strands), but we can occasionally take a breath to focus on such teenage issues such as asking out a girl and/or dealing with romantic competitors. From a narrative standpoint, Far from Home is cut from the same cloth as other MCU movies: There’s an effective balancing of character, action, comedy and spectacular set-pieces, pulling elements from previous entries to add a bit more depth to the mayhem. The special effects are quite good, although the film’s ongoing theme of illusions does mean that we’re in for some disorienting visuals that seem markedly less than photorealistic. There is also some weirdness in terms of plotting and characterization (mostly Nick Fury’s, which seems like a parody of itself) that eventually get explained by the end of the credits, but they’re still distracting for most of the film. Tom Holland once again turns in a great dual performance as Parker and Spider-Man, with some great co-leading work by Jake Gyllenhaal, and supporting performances by Zendaya (finally realizing the promise suggested in the first film) and the Marisa Tomei/Jon Favreau couple. The result is generally satisfying, although it comes so close on the heels of Endgame and the spectacular Spider-Man: Welcome to the Spider Verse that it seems perhaps a bit too ordinary in comparison. Still, it’s guaranteed entertainment for dollars, and that’s been the trademark of the MCU for a while now.

  • Money Train (1995)

    Money Train (1995)

    (On Cable TV, July 2019) There’s a clear attempt in Money Train to duplicate some of the easy chemistry between Wesley Snipes and Woody Harrelson in White Men Can’t Jump: the banter attempts to be as fast and knowing, with two transit cops (also foster brothers) teaming up to rob a train carrying the cash receipts of a particularly busy week in the subway. There are a few subplots, one of them involving a serial killer played by Chris Cooper, and another with a stunning Jennifer Lopez as a romantic interest. Money Train didn’t get good reviews back in 1995, but time may have been kinder to it in that we get to see a few known actors looking great as their younger selves, and because such mid-budget action movies are getting increasingly scare now compared to the mid-nineties. Speaking of which, the film is becoming a period piece with every passing year—among other things, cash has almost disappeared from the New York Subway system. Still, there are annoyances: our designated heroes aren’t particularly admirable most of the time, and there’s some weirdness in seeing the film go all-in in them planning a robbery of citizen dollars. (That’s when creating an evil boss becomes important, but now we’re stretching contrivances.)  It does amount to a decent watch today, even though it doesn’t quite pack the punch of White Men Can’t Jump or many of the better action movies of the time. I’d suggest pairing it with the 1970s The Taking of Pelham 123, but Money Train probably wouldn’t sustain the comparison.

  • The Death of Stalin (2017)

    The Death of Stalin (2017)

    (On Cable TV, July 2019) Calling The Death of Stalin a comedy only works if you include the darkest, most uncomfortable sort of comedy, describing life under a tyrannical regime in absurdist life-or-death fashion. Nominally a historical work (albeit one taking many, many liberties), the film follows the last moments of Joseph Stalin and the weeks following his death, commenting on the inherent instability of an authoritarian regime suddenly stripped of its leader. Following absurd orders and pretending everything is normal is the least of the characters’ worries when even a hint of disloyalty can get you shot. The political shenanigans to succeed Stalin grows complex even before the funeral is underway, and if the actors all have a talent in common, it’s to play this deadly eeriness with a deadpan expression. The terrific cast includes names such as Steve Buscemi, Jason Isaacs, Michael Palin and Jeffrey Tambor among many others—considering writer-director Armando Iannucci’s pedigree, the dialogue-heavy, almost theatrical script is an actor’s dream to play. The film would act as a powerful warning to anyone tempted by the lure of authoritarianism that such regimes are actively dangerous to everyone including the person at the top—but one suspects that anyone tempted by dictatorial regimes today are nowhere near Iannucci’s target audience. Alas, the effectiveness of the premise is not completely met by its execution: Considering that The Death of Stalin had been on my radar for more than a year before seeing it, I found myself underwhelmed by the actual film—while interesting, it’s not as gripping or amusing as I’d hoped. It didn’t help that I had a self-censor tripping up whatever amusing moments I found myself enjoying: This is a film that places a lot more emphasis on the dark of dark comedy.

  • Hotel Artemis (2018)

    Hotel Artemis (2018)

    (On Cable TV, July 2019) You can either consider Hotel Artemis as a Science-Fiction film or a stylish criminal drama, but it really makes most sense as the latter. The SF elements are merely dystopian window-dressing for an unusual premise: a hidden hospital catering to an exclusive underworld club, headed by a medical professional who has made it her refuge. When someone gets shot in the Los Angeles area, they can just show up, machines will patch them, and they can recuperate in peace in one of the hotel’s five rooms. Of course, the kind of people who would need access to such an establishment… Are the reason why we’re watching. There isn’t much missing to declare Hotel Artemis as taking place in the same universe as John Wick, with impossibly competent assassins operating within a secret society. Who cares if Los Angeles is burning due to ten-years-in-the-future water riots? The point here is seeing the characters colliding, old grudges being settled and some compelling actors being asked to do what they do best … or go beyond their usual persona. The case in point for the latter has to be Jodie Foster, here playing much older and wearier than usual but exceptionally good at it. Then there’s Sterling K. Brown and Sofia Boutella showing up as the lead couple, Boutella being back to her usual femme fatale roles. Jeff Goldblum, Jenny Slate, Dave Bautista, and Zachary Quinto also show up, although Slate (in a dramatic turn) doesn’t have as much to do as she should. Writer-director Drew Pearce here delivers a lot of atmosphere, somewhat less excitement and only the bare minimum of a plot. Hotel Artemis is fun to watch, but it’s best not to ponder what else could have been done with the same premise, or how the story may have played out more excitingly in other hands. It does manage to be entertaining, but does leave a lot on the table.

  • Silent Rage (1982)

    Silent Rage (1982)

    (In French, On Cable TV, July 2019) There’s a fair point to be made that nearly all Chuck Norris movies feel the same, but Silent Rage is a bit of a departure in that it features Norris in what I think remains his only science-fiction film. Oh, it’s not much of a science fiction film: It simply uses the hoary concept of a super-serum to make a serial killer even more formidable a foe, just to keep things interesting for Norris and his unstoppable, unflappable screen persona. Of course, with a setup like that, it plays almost exactly like a horror slasher movie, with Norris hitting him a few more times until he’s dead. Considering Norris’s usual lack of charisma (or, if you want to be generous, Norris’s usual very specific charisma), it’s the science fictional elements of the film that stick in mind well after the formula karate sequences have faded away. I suppose that Silent Rage does distinguish itself as the only Chuck Norris horror/SF movie, but that’s really not much of a distinction. Even in the underwhelming Norris oeuvre, this is nothing remarkable.

  • Funny Farm (1988)

    Funny Farm (1988)

    (In French, On Cable TV, July 2019) Chevy Chase heads to rural Vermont in a comedy that pretty much plays as you’d expect. As Funny Farm begins, a Manhattan sports journalist and his wife head over to the country in the hopes of transforming an advance for a novel into a fresh start for them both, away from the busy rhythm of the city. Of course, they don’t know squat about the new house, the town, its people or even how to make friends with the locals. Hilarity, or at least predictable gags ensue. The inversions happen, the ironies pile up and yet Funny Farm isn’t much of a comedy. The comic style is very broad, to the point of feeling overly familiar even before seeing what happens next. You can call out the jokes from their setup, and even a slightly less predictable third act doesn’t really improve the entire thing. Chase is up to his usual self (which is either funny or not—his specific brand of comedy can go both ways), while Madolyn Smith is more remarkable as his wife. As someone who fetishizes the idea of writing full-time, I did get a kick out of some aspects of the film. Alas, that’s not quite enough to make me like the film. On the plus side, I didn’t quite hate Funny Farm either. But it would be fair to say that I found it almost useless, and not really worth revisiting.

  • Death Wish 3 (1985)

    Death Wish 3 (1985)

    (In French, On Cable TV, July 2019) I’ve been plumbing the depths of 1980s Hollywood lately, and movies seldom get as crazy as Death Wish III. If the original 1974 film was arguably a statement on early-1970s urban crime and the second 1982 film became an outright exploitation picture, this third instalment goes full-on bonkers in an attempt to give more to the target audience. Here we have the series protagonist (once again played by Charles Bronson, here in his mid-sixties) coming back to New York to visit an old army buddy. Except that the cops know what he’s done and are aware of the bad neighbourhood where he’s going and they have a deal for him: kill as many criminals as you want, and let us claim the credit. With a setup like that, it’s no surprise to find out that the protagonist’s army buddy is one of the last decent people in a crime-ridden neighbourhood where even the police fear to tread. Put together as if someone had no experience of American cities other than the worst crime dramas of the 1980s, this neighbourhood hosts ludicrous gangs with stylish looks that pretty much do whatever they want to anyone. Bronson steps in with a crime-fighting attitude and an unexplained supply of heavy weaponry. It all escalates ludicrously to out-and-out urban warfare by the end of the film, complete with anti-tank rockets being used to dispatch opponents. We’re far, far away from the 1970s angst of revenge here … and that may be part of the film’s peculiar charm. The Death Wish series has never been about serious exploration of issues, and while Death Wish 3 is fantastical in the way it treats New York City as a playground for explosive mayhem … at least it’s a bit less hypocritical about its intention. It’s really not a good movie, but at least it’s interesting in its craziness. In keeping with the series’ tradition of having a famous actor in an early role, here we have the always-stunning Marina Sirtis playing a victim of the hooligans. I’m not even covering half the nonsense of the film: Suffice to say that Death Wish 3 inches toward the have-to-be-seen-to-be-believed category of the worst of 1980s Hollywood. Alas, there’s a lot of competition in that field, but still: at least it’s an improvement over Death Wish 2.

  • Endless Love (1981)

    Endless Love (1981)

    (In French, On Cable TV, July 2019) Considering that an endless loop of “Endless Love” is the soundtrack of my nightmares, I really couldn’t wait until Endless Love (the movie) had run its course. Taking teenage romance to an obnoxious melodramatic intensity seldom seen elsewhere in fiction, this film features an obsessed male lead taking wilder and more dangerous steps to be with a particular girl, with devastating consequences. This is a film with several significant problems, but the biggest is probably a fundamental disconnect between its romantic and thriller elements. There’s an attempt her to recast a dangerously obsessive protagonist as a romantic hero and it really just doesn’t work. In fact, it’s so incongruous that at some point it’s justifiable to ask pointed questions about the filmmakers themselves and whether they’re being stupid or disingenuous in shaping the film to its final form. In any other movie, having a young man lust over a girl, setting fire to her house, going to a mental institution, being seduced by her mom, killing her father, pursuing her to Vermont and fighting her brother (even in a series of accidents) would be seen as, well, an outright villain. Or most likely a dark comedy if handled by sufficiently skillful filmmakers. Here, we’re close to full-on apologia at the protagonist just being romantic, up to and including her coming back to him at the end. You don’t need to look any further to understand how weird early-1980s films could be. It sounds like a nightmare when summarized, and it doesn’t feel any better when experienced one minute at a time. Except that you then spend two hours wondering what quirk of upbringing, touch of psychopathology or outright misanthropy from director Franco Zeffirelli would lead to such a badly ill-advised film. It’s this close to self-parody as it is that I wouldn’t mind someone actually taking one step further and making an actual parody out of it. Maybe they can even get a cameo from Tom Cruise, who here appears for the first time in a small but pivotal role.

  • Death Wish 2 (1982)

    Death Wish 2 (1982)

    (In French, On Cable TV, July 2019) The original 1974 Death Wish was a piece of exploitation filmmaking relying on the revenge fantasies of its audiences, but it could at least point to the growing urban crime rates in mid-seventies American cities as justification. It clearly expressed something about its times and refrained from a number of excesses—There was a feeling, pervasive throughout many of the similar gritty urban thriller of the 1970s, that while satisfying on a primal level, this kind of revenge was not a good thing, either for the protagonist or for everyone around him. Sequel Death Wish 2 from a slightly different time, as the bleak realism of the 1970s was being transformed into the violent escapism of the 1980s. Relocating to bright sunny California, this sequel follows the mild-mannered protagonist (played by Charles Bronson, still one of the most confounding choices for an action hero) as his daughter (and maid; let’s not forget about the maid) are assaulted, raped or killed by hippie hoodlums. In keeping with series tradition (with Jeff Goldblum being in the first film in a minor role as a hoodlum), here we have Lawrence Fishburne in a small role as a hoodlum who assaults, rapes, kills, etc., all of the protagonist’s female acquaintances. Cue the bloody revenge, this time with far less soul-searching given that the protagonist has done this before and because audiences expect the kills rather than the personal anguish. Police are once again useless in the neon demimonde of L.A. at night, although there’s a nod to the events of the first film as the police suspect but cannot prove that our death-thirsty protagonist is behind the escalating mayhem. There may be something interesting in how the film must create a bleak universe of rampant urban crime in order to justify its ludicrous plot (read comments made by the film’s producer and screenwriter for some distasteful justifications) but the problem is that since 1982 we’ve seen this manoeuvre make its way from movies to national politics with terrifying results. The manoeuvre is transparent and as a result Death Wish 2 never earns the sympathy for the victims that would propel it forward. Instead, it’s laid bare for exactly what it is: an exploitative cash grab playing serious issues for not much more than cynical thrills.

  • Mannequin (1987)

    Mannequin (1987)

    (In French, On TV, July 2019) It’s one thing to remain open-minded to the possibility that a film’s execution would rescue an inane premise, but even that fog of possibility disappears after watching Mannequin: What? Were? They? Thinking? The premise is as dumb as it’s simple: What if a mannequin came to life in the presence of our protagonist? That’s it. Of course, the mannequin goes limp in the presence of another person. Of course, there are misunderstandings and caricatural business shenanigans and villains that seem to come out of a kid’s movie. But it’s not much of a comedy—despite a few bright spots, much of the film feels like a particularly dumb take on obvious material. Or at least that’s what happens when the film is not just weird for its own sake—I mean; that ancient Egypt prologue? Whew. At least Andrew McCarthy is likable, Kim Cattrall looks cute and Meshach Taylor gets a few laughs. It’s also interesting that a film would use downtown Philadelphia as its playing ground. But Mannequin never manages to take its premise and transform it into something more than the bare-bones minimum. The script is unimaginative when it’s not crazy (a bad combination), and the directing merely moves plot pieces around without going the extra distance. If Mannequin has any quality, it’s to show you the ground floor of what uninspired 1980s comedies felt like.

  • The Secret of My Success (1987)

    The Secret of My Success (1987)

    (In French, On TV, July 2019) In between Wall Street, Working Girl, Baby Boom and The Secret of My Success, 1987 (ish) was quite a year for Hollywood taking on the Manhattan corporate career path. This time around, we get Michael J. Fox as a corn-fed Kansas graduate heading to the Big Apple with the conviction of impending success and big bucks. Things soon take a turn for the worse, and he gets to barely eke a living out of a mailroom job. But you can’t keep an ambitious lad down, and before long he’s reading inter-office mail not addressed to him, taking over an empty office and making executive choices for his new company. Of course, I’m skipping over the whole sleeping-with-the-president’s-wife (who happens to be his step-aunt—it’s that kind of movie) thing. Or should I? Because one of The Secret of My Success’s most repellent aspects is how it makes a big deal of accusing its female lead of sleeping around while cheering the male protagonist’s escapades with lengthy sustained replays of Yello’s “Oh Yeah.” This being a comedy, hard work and perseverance take a back seat to Fox’s admittedly considerable boyish charm as he romances the ladies and schmoozes the bankers required for his ultimate success. Caricatures of corrupt business executives end up making the film feel like it’s aimed at kids despite the considerable sexual material. The result isn’t just hard to appreciate as a coherent whole as it zooms between get-rich glibness, sex farce and half-hearted romance: it’s a bit of a repellent mess when taken in as a whole (the protagonist’s lack of ambition beyond being rich also reflects poorly on its 1987 pre-crash nature). Of course, I’m now old enough to think that Helen Slater (then 24) isn’t nearly as attractive as Margaret Whitton (then 38), but I suspect that much of this has to do with each character’s hairstyle. Anyway: the point being that The Secret of My Success is the kind of film that is badly steeped into its time and not really in a charming way—more in a vaguely horrifying fashion that lays stark the moral degeneracy of the time as it blithely does not question its worst aspects. That’s quite a bit to lay down at the feet of what’s supposed to be a quirky breezy comedy but if thirty years’ worth of hindsight show, it’s that The Secret of My Success is far more corrupt than it realized at the time.

  • Summer School (1987)

    Summer School (1987)

    (Second Viewing, In French, On TV, July 2019) I could have sworn that I had never seen Summer School before, but as the film unfolded the gory pranks played by two horror-loving characters seemed familiar. No matter; much of the rest of the film felt brand new, even as it showed a very familiar kind of comedy. The premise feels pure-1980s (even though a lot of it was reused in later movies such as 2018’s Night School) as a below-average gym teacher is asked to handle a remedial English summer program. The assorted characters found in his class are custom-designed to provide comic subplots, from the proud dyslexic black woman to the Italian exchange student to the teenage mom to the football guy to … and it goes on. Can they will all band together and outperform expectations? Yes! And that’s the movie for you. Highlights include a gory masterclass in makeup effects, Mark Harmon playing a Steve Gutenberg role, Kirstie Alley looking wonderful and … not much else. Formulaic and forgettable at once, likable yet empty, Summer School comfortably represents some kind of typical 1980s movies (surprisingly not too far away from Police Academy) but I really wouldn’t go as far as saying that it needs to be seen.

  • Bohemian Rhapsody (2018)

    Bohemian Rhapsody (2018)

    (On Cable TV, July 2019) As someone of the generation who count Bohemian Rhapsody as one of the greatest songs of all time (Wayne’s World is to blame, but doesn’t entirely explain why I insist the song has to play at my funeral), I was very favourable predisposed toward Bohemian Rhapsody, the movie adaptation of Freddie Mercury’s years with Queen. It does get going with a roar, as exuberant editing, terrific music and many directorial flourishes introduce Mercury on the cusp of his Live Aid set, then flashes back to the early 1970s for a look at how the band got together. It doesn’t take much of a knowledge of Queen’s history to realize early on that the film lies frequently and blatantly—from inventing a band’s breakup to rearranging events by years for maximal dramatic impact, Bohemian Rhapsody is also guilty of more fundamental issues—being written by the winners of the events described here, it presents the surviving member’s perspective on events: Only Mercury and his outcast partner do bad things (Mercury’s arc is one of apology and redemption), while the rest of the band argues and occasionally fights, but otherwise stand as far more reasonable bystanders to Mercury’s excesses. The hypocrisy here is staggering, but let’s not expect anything even close to an honest Queen biography unless the project is taken away from the band itself. It’s also often, especially early on, superficial to the point of being meaningless as a portrait of the characters. (It gets better later.)  Still, despite the blatant manipulation (riiight, Live Aid wasn’t getting any donations before Queen started playing), I actually had a really good time watching Bohemian Rhapsody—the music being predictably great, it doesn’t take much for the pacing of the film to attach itself to the beat. There are also showpiece sequences that give us a very dramatized but enjoyable recreation of how some of Queen’s biggest hits (may) have been created. The ten-minute sequence in which “Bohemian Rhapsody” is recorded, then discussed, then released to bad reviews and popular success, is a joy to watch. (The film gets a big meta-laugh from Mike Myers’s character claiming that teenagers will never bang their heads to the song.)  It’s all fanciful and often scattered and deliberately chooses to dilute its climax by recreating nearly the entire Live Aid performance in real time, dropping an expensively recreated concert movie in the middle of its biopic. Narratively, Bohemian Rhapsody doesn’t have a lot of freshness to it: It’s the same old tropes used in the same old ways, and the liberties taken with the band’s history only reinforce its familiarity. On the other hand, there’s quite a bit to appreciate here about how the possibilities of CGI and autotune now allow for a convincing recreation of an arena concert in full daylight with the actors recreating familiar tunes. It’s quite a ride, and it’s rarely boring. There’s a lot more to say about director Bryan Singer and the tumultuous making of the film (Singer was replaced from the film about three-quarter in its production when damaging allegations against him became public) but it’s not nearly as interesting as seeing the result, as loud and flashy as any movie about Queen should be. Rami Malek’s performance is mesmerizing, the look at the inner working of a band is frequently hilarious and it’s a pretty good time for anyone even remotely familiar with Queen’s iconic tunes. It’s a shame that Bohemian Rhapsody has to lie so much in making its point, especially when the real story is readily available at our fingertips and everyone will take delight in pointing out the film’s inaccuracies … but what can I say—Hollywood’s been like that for more than a hundred years by now, and it’s not going to stop messing with the facts anytime soon.