Reviews

  • And Starring Pancho Villa as Himself (2003)

    (On Cable TV, June 2022) As much as the past decade’s boom in streaming services has been a boon for cinephiles, part of me wonders about the aftermath of such business model experimentation, especially when the services have every intention of locking up their own productions. No physical editions, no licensing agreements with other platforms or broadcast, and no way other than a subscription to see the films. (Or piracy, which becomes far more justifiable.)  What if there’s a genuine work of art (or entertainment) locked away behind a subscription? What if the services shut down? As evidence of how these fears are not unjustified, I offer films like And Starring Pancho Villa as Himself, a slick medium-budget effort developed and broadcast by HBO two decades ago. The HBO filmography is a case in point for my questions: it’s large, and it’s almost entirely locked up within HBO. There are a few DVDs and a few foreign-language licensing deals (all hail French-Canadian TV!) but these movies run the real risk of being buried forever. Have you heard about And Starring Pancho Villa as Himself? What if I told you that it stars such notables as Antonio Banderas (as Villa), Alan Arkin, Jim Broadbent, Colm Feore, Kyle Chandler and Saul Rubinek? What if I promised you explosive sequences of the Mexican Civil War? What if I lured you in with a credible portrayal of the 1910s cinema industry and the kernel that eventually led to modern Hollywood action movies? It’s a surprisingly interesting film – although it may take film nerds to love that opening sequence drawing back from a vintage silent film scene to its HD making-of in one seamless shot capped off by “Fort Lee, NJ: Movie Capital of the World.”  Similar care goes to the way it integrates historical fact: The portrayal of Villa is often sympathetic but ultimately not sugar-coated – And Starring Pancho Villa as Himself overtly acknowledges that he was a murderous revolutionary. It makes for a really interesting film – especially if you happen to have missed it the first time around and didn’t know about its existence. How many films will be buried behind a subscription, unable to breathe and find their audience? How many films will be unfairly forgotten behind those gates?

  • Army of Thieves (2021)

    (Netflix Streaming, June 2022) All right, let’s go full fanboy mode: I was absolutely not interested in any sequel, prequel, interquel or whateverquel having to do with zombie heist film Army of the Dead – an overblown production that had a lot of ideas but very little discipline in executing them. But a romantic heist comedy starring Nathalie Emmanuel? Great genre, cute actress, say no more: I’m there with no questions asked. I’ve been crushing hard on Emmanuel since Game of Thrones (the fate of her character partially explains why I soured on the last season of the series), and seeing her get a good supporting role in the ongoing Fast and Furious series is an ongoing delight. But here, she gets nothing less than a full lead role – and, in a delightful bit of fan-service, a brand-new fancy hairstyle every time the film skips ahead a few hours. In this heist film, she plays the mastermind who seduces our nerdy protagonist (director-star Matthias Schweighöfer) into four daring bank robberies, each of them targeting vaults built by a near-mythical craftsman. (A fifth vault is the one tackled in Army of the Dead if you’re wondering about the link between the two films.)  The weakest aspect of Army of Thieves is the zombie background noise meant to make the film more interesting to zombie fans – considering that I didn’t want a zombie film, this was counterproductive. It’s far more interesting when it delves into this funhouse portrait of safecrackers and thieves thirsting for great scores for the fun and accomplishment of it rather than the money. With a joyously European setting, the film zips through a few set-pieces and character moments. It’s not that good – there’s a sense that it’s a good imitation of better films, but not anything more. There’s also a lessening of tension toward the end (culminating in a forgone but contrived conclusion) but it’s not a fatal flaw: if you’re a romantic heist comedy fan (and who isn’t?), the film delivers the goods. Emmanuel is superb from beginning to end, and she gets a run for her money from Ruby O. Fee as a tech expert. I’m more than willing to ignore Army of Thieves’ links with Army of the Dead and pretend that our lead couple will find a happy ending in an eventual sequel. (Considering the films’ mentions of time loops and precognition, I wouldn’t necessarily bet against it.)  Army of Thieves delivers exactly what I expected, and even throws in a few bonuses while it’s at it. There’s a lot to say about those breezy, unassuming mid-tier films if they strike their target audience’s fancy, especially if it means going fanboy for two hours.

  • Pagan Love Song (1950)

    (On Cable TV, June 2022) As I’m wrapping up my filmography of legendary musicals produced by Arthur Freed, my overriding question is simple – why are those the last few entries? What explains that they’re not as often broadcast as Freed’s other hits? In Pagan Love Song, the answer is inappropriate casting (a chemically-tanned Esther William as a half-Tahitian girl, and the otherwise awesome Rita Moreno as a full Tahitian), far too much stereotypical exoticism, middling songs and humdrum execution. The story, as slight as it is, has a white American travelling to Tahiti to claim an inherited property, mistaking the heroine for a non-English speaker, and getting seduced by the island’s way of life. It’s not terrible, but much of the film’s interest consists in watching the result and wondering how bad it’s going to be in terms of native representation. To be fair, the colour location cinematography (in Kauai) does have its moments, and a few numbers are rather fun (most notably “The House of Singing Bamboo”). But the rest? Howard Keel is blandly bland man as the lead, while Williams’s performance feels perfunctory (she nearly drowned for such an ordinary role) and Pagan Love Song becomes increasingly nonsensical toward the end. The atmosphere can’t overcome the film’s more fundamental flaws, and the result, well, is almost deservedly forgotten today despite its big-budget production.

  • Over the Edge (1979)

    (On Cable TV, June 2022) Teenage rebellion has long been a Hollywood staple, but I can see why it would take until the late 1970s to make something as glum as Over the Edge. Taking place in a synthetic Colorado town made for ever-growing property values and not much else, the film doesn’t waste time showing the teenage alienation coming from having nothing to do except petty vandalism. Troublingly enough for this middle-aged house-owning film critic, the film squarely takes the teenagers’ side, all the way to an extreme escalation of hooliganism. By the time the parents come together for a community meeting and spend their time talking about house resale value and not the state of their kids, well, we’re ready for the kids to lock them up inside the school and set fire to cars outside –which they do. That’s kind of the nihilistic point Over the Edge makes about its aimless teenage protagonists. (It’s enough to make you thankful for cell phones and video games.)  In presenting such a sympathetic portrait of its vandal teenage characters, Over the Edge doesn’t make for comfortable viewing even today – it’s an indictment of adult inaction more than the semi-hypocritical depiction of teenagers acting badly that had been Hollywood’s stock-in-trade until then. It remains a remarkably glum assessment of American ready-made suburbia in its violence-stirring ennui.

  • Kvinnodröm [Dreams] (1955)

    (In French, On TV, June 2022) Oh Ingmar Bergman, you big bore you. I’ll admit that this isn’t much of a criticism – I find Bergman to be dull and exasperating most of the time anyway, with only the very best of his films being conventionally interesting. But Dreams is something else – two couples heading over from Stockholm to Gothenburg to have or almost have affairs. That’s pretty much it in terms of plot – and the low narrative density does nothing to make the film any better. The melodrama is not heightened enough to be interesting, although the film does offer a look at mid-1950s urban Sweden through the lenses of two career women. Otherwise, this is really lesser-tier Bergman for fans or those intent on completing his filmography no matter how undistinguished it’s going to get.

  • Gaslight (1940)

    (On Cable TV, June 2022) The best-case scenario for remakes is that they improve on the original in every way, making it look like a prototype for later, superior work. The worst case is that the remake is terrible and is quickly forgotten. 1940’s British Gaslight, on the other hand, is not that far away from the better-known American 1944 Gaslight. Oh, the American one is superior – better actors, better directing, substantially better production values. But the earlier film is no slouch: still faithful to the original novel, but perhaps less histrionic and more subtle. What’s perhaps more interesting is that, despite the very short duration separating both films, both –being from different sides of the Atlantic—do have their own specific flavour that makes even a double-bill viewing interesting on its own.

  • Black Moon (1975)

    (On Cable TV, May 2022) If you’ve understood why every scene fits in Black Moon, you have a good career as a film vulgarizer ahead of you. Considering that even writer-director Louis Malle recognized that the film is more based on dream logic than anything else, explaining it would be quite an achievement. This is one of those films where the Wikipedia plot summary is a lifeline. Taking place in an indefinite period with hazy characters acting out in crazy ways, Black Moon is supposed to be a dream given form, with various elements just mixed in an experimental fashion. It’s clearly something – I mean, I don’t think there’s any other film going for those same images and there’s always something to be said for filmmakers who are able to just be as weird and personal as they can be under the constraints of a film production. (Malle reportedly shot most of the film on or near his own estate in the French countryside, with copious nature footage offered as proof.)  I’m really not the target audience for Black Moon – and I’m struggling right now with the impulsion to simply dismiss it out of hand. But if you’re in the mood for an oneiric, occasionally nightmarish fantasy, then this is for you. Maybe solely for you.

  • Soleil rouge [Red Sun] (1971)

    (On Cable TV, May 2022) There’s an admirable blend of influences at play in director Terence Young’s spaghetti western Soleil Rouge, bringing together a cast as diverse as Charles Bronson, Ursula Andress, Toshirō Mifune, Alain Delon and Capucine in a vision of the Wild West quite unlike another. Consider that the plot gets going when a ceremonial samurai sword intended for American President Grant is stolen aboard a train heading east. Mifune and Bronson team up to get it back from the perfidious Delon, with Capucine and Andress providing further entertainment. There are a lot of cool ideas in here, so maybe it’s not so much of a surprise when the execution ends up being just about average. Sure, seeing an American gunman team up with a Japanese samurai sounds like the kind of revisionist western that would be a natural fit for a multicultural genre-blending twenty-first century. But as executed à la Italian western, it’s perhaps a bit more serious than expected and certainly more laborious than it should be. I’m sure that my limited attraction for westerns is at play here, but still – beyond the premise, Soleil Rouge is a far more average western than you’d expect, and that’s just too bad.

  • Deadly Friend (1986)

    (On Cable TV, May 2022) I don’t think I would have believed in Deadly Friend’s existence had I not actually seen it myself. It’s as if a few 1980s movie genres had been thrown in a blender as a dare, and the most remarkable thing about it is that it’s not an ironic retrospective film. This was put together in the mid-1980s, and it would work as a satire… had it been any better. Consider a film that begins as a typical teen science comedy in which a newly-moved protagonist has a robot pal that does silly things. But then (wait for it) the protagonist’s girlfriend is killed by her abusive father and he transplants his robot buddy’s microchip in her head and she revives and turns murderously evil. I’m not sure you saw that coming, right? Suffice to say that Deadly Friend doesn’t work. A look at its production history reveals numerous changes to the film in post-production, an attempt to capitalize on director Wes Craven’s reputation for gory horror, and how the film was shifted from dark SF thriller to outright gory horror – completely ignoring Craven’s attempt to branch outside the genre he’s best known for. Kristy Swanson does just fine as the killer robot girl, but the film itself is a jumbled mess. An object of contemplation more than entertainment, Deadly Friend has largely been forgotten by history… and it’s not hard to understand why.

  • Død snø 2 [Dead Snow 2: Red vs. Dead] (2014)

    (In French, On Cable TV, May 2022) Now that’s more like it. As much as the first Dead Snow was hyped and disappointing, Dead Snow 2: Red vs. Dead exceeded my modest expectations. Thankfully undoing the nihilistic implication of the first film’s everyone-dies ending, this sequel almost immediately then strikes out in much wilder territory. Limbs are swapped, American reinforcements are called in, the Nazis and Russians revive, there’s some zombie wizardry and a big fighting finale. There’s even a tank that finds its use during the wild climax. All of this takes place over Nordic greenery, further helping visually distinguish this sequel from its predecessor. Director Tommy Wirkola’s Dead Snow 2 exceeds expectations set by his previous film in most ways – the budget is bigger, the set-pieces are wittier, the script controls its horror/comedy blend much better (it feels like a fully integrated horror comedy à la Evil Dead 2 and not like a horror film with occasional gags as the first one did) and it works itself to a true climax. I liked it quite a bit, even when it amps up the gore and goes for some cheap laughs. That coda… wow, that coda… has there been a more twisted use of “Total Eclipse of the Heart”? Anyway – clearly not meant for everyone, Dead Snow 2: Red vs. Dead fully realizes the potential left unfulfilled by its predecessor, and makes a welcome addition to the relatively few films able to integrate stomach-churning levels of extreme gore with a tone that nonetheless remains darkly comic.

  • Død snø [Dead Snow] (2009)

    (In French, On Cable TV, May 2022) The first Dead Snow has an interesting place in pop culture history, helping bring about a new wave of Nazi zombie films and videogames. I’m not calling it the root of the sub-sub-genre (with a decades’ worth of zombie films by the end of the 2000s, someone was bound to put Nazis + Zombies together, and many did so at the same time) but it was reasonably popular and played into a wider trend. Alas, finally seeing it thirteen years later, I was disappointed by the result. Clearly put together on a small budget by writer-director Tommy Wirkola, the film struggles at first: the tone is an uneven mixture of comedy, horror and clichés as a few college students go to an isolated cabin for a weekend of snowy fun and then get attacked by undead Nazis. While the film whips itself up to some good old-fashioned zombie splatter, it doesn’t have full control over its tone. It doesn’t feel like a horror comedy like its obvious Evil Dead inspiration — it feels like a gory horror film with moments of comedy, and those are different things. This can be seen all the way to the ending, which takes a very easy way out that may leave viewers wondering if it was all worth it. As a result, the film struggles to keep audiences invested beyond the most obvious elements – since its characters are expendable, little effort is made to distinguish them beyond blunt distinctions. Elements of the execution are well-handled: cinematography and special effects make this a well-crafted film despite its weaknesses. But it should have been much better. [June 2022: The sequel is fortunately much better.]

  • Broadway Serenade (1939)

    (On Cable TV, May 2022) The 1930s were big on Broadway musicals, and Broadway Serenade stars high-pitched operatic singer Jeanette MacDonald in a familiar story about a married couple in which she strikes it big and he doesn’t. It all leads to a big musical number directed by Busby Berkeley that will be, for many, the single biggest reason to see this otherwise undistinguished film. (Robert Z. Leonard otherwise directs the rest of it.)  MacDonald is a hit-or-miss kind of star – while her vocal talents were undeniable, they weren’t always suited to the kinds of musical comedies in which she starred – an opera singer forced into a movie singer role. I’d rather watch Virginia Gray (who looks wonderful here), but that’s not necessarily a knock against MacDonald. The sexist plot isn’t worth remembering (especially given the flaws of the male protagonist – many of which go unacknowledged by the film) but the musical numbers are much better. After all, Broadway Serenade was designed as a star vehicle for MacDonald. It’s effective as such – but anyone looking for Broadway musicals has several many better choices to pick from.

  • No Man of Her Own (1950)

    (On Cable TV, May 2022) Preposterousness looms large over the plot of No Man of Her Own, as a pregnant woman kicked out of her relationship finds herself in a train crash and takes on the identity of the woman (also pregnant) who died next to her. Welcomed in a new rich family willing to accept her as their new daughter-in-law from their also-deceased son, life suddenly looks up for our protagonist… until her no-good ex-boyfriend comes back with blackmail and evil intentions on the family fortune. Then there’s the brother-in-law who seems to understand what’s going on, while being drawn to her. It’s a lot of contrivances, and there’s little doubt that none of it would work as well had it not been for having Barbara Stanwyck in the lead role. She is far more credible than what’s going on, and that credibility eventually rubs off on the film. The domestic drama of the film’s first half eventually turns to true film noir, so anyone wondering why the film is often included in noir filmographies will have a bit of suspense figuring out when that switch happens. There’s also a technically interesting train crash sequence, especially how suddenly it completely upends the plot of the picture. None of this makes No Man of Her Own a great movie, but it certainly makes it a mildly interesting one, with enough twists, quirks and turns to keep viewers involved.

  • Ich bin dein Mensch [I’m Your Man] (2021)

    (On Cable TV, May 2022) As technology advances, some science fictional concepts are fast becoming more realistic, and so is fiction’s treatment of them. Androids as custom-made romantic partners have a long history in genre fiction, but one of the most noteworthy elements of I’m Your Man is how it takes that idea and treats it in a very down-to-earth way, almost as a mainstream drama. The plot gets going as our protagonist, a German anthropology researcher (played by Maren Eggert), is selected to act as a juror for a most unusual study: Should androids be given human rights? In order for her to judge, she is assigned her own robotic partner for a few weeks. At first, her interest is strictly hands-off, appreciating the efforts made to custom-tailor a partner for her own preferences (he’s played by British actor Dan Stevens, speaking what sounds like good German– and even that is a plot point) but not getting involved with him. This changes, of course, leading to a complex conclusion in which what she says is not what she wants – or vice-versa.  I wasn’t bowled over by I’m Your Man: in seeking mundanity, it certainly finds it. But, as much as it’s about an android possibly being a romantic partner, it also has a lot to say about the non-spectacular parts of romantic relationships – beyond the grand gestures and love scenes, the in-between moments of domesticity and moment-to-moment minutiae of living with someone else. And that’s part of the process in moving something from genre fiction to mainstream drama.

  • Garden of the Moon (1938)

    (On Cable TV, May 2022) Director Busby Berkeley does (mostly) non-musical comedy in Garden of the Moon, a humdrum film showing the management of a nightclub by an unscrupulous owner dealing with a temperamental band leader. It’s amiable stuff, not all that funny nor all that musical: contrary to many Berkeley films, this one remains very sedate while it presents the nightclub band doing its thing. (But then again, this was Berkeley’s last musical for Warner Brothers – by that time, the musical genre in which he specialized was seen as expensive and on its way out. He’d get his revenge a few years later at other studios as the genre regained in popularity.)  Garden of the Moon is watchable without necessarily being good – the film’s most memorable moment comes very late in its running time, as the owner fakes death to keep his star signed up. That doesn’t make it unsatisfying, but only Berkeley completists will seek out this one.