A slow burn of pure terror (spoilers included)

 

(SPOILER ALERT)

I was having trouble deciding whether to watch this brilliant Danish horror film, because I couldn't tell if it was sub-titled, or dubbed. Full disclosure, I am a bit of a snob when it comes to dubbing, and, in the words of the great Laemmle Twin arthouse theater in Los Angeles, I am "not afraid of subtitles". Turns out, that is one of the things that makes this film so effective: the two couples are from two different countries -- Holland and Denmark -- and, since neither speaks the other's native language, they communicate almost entirely in English.

And therein, as Hamlet would say, lies the "rub". Miscommunication lies at the heart of the story here, or, at least, if one couple understood better what the other was saying they might have not only extricated themselves, and their daughter, from a fate literally worse than death, but might have also avoided the somewhat horrifying social awkwardness that almost steals the show, here.

A couple from Denmark are vacationing with their daughter in Tuscany, and meet another couple (with an odd son) from Holland who are staying at the same Pensione or Villa. Really, things start going "bad" from the very beginning, as the Holland couple are just strange, and their son is unable to speak properly due to a tongue having been malformed (or cut out?). As one reviewer pointed out, the lengths to which the Danish couple will go to accommodate -- that is not embarrass themselves socially -- the weird Holland couple provides a horrifying reality that nearly overshadows the truly gruesome nature of the "big reveal" in the end.

For example, after being invited to stay the weekend with the Holland couple, upon their return, the Danish couple feel like they can't refuse. They say to one another, "how bad could it be?" Turns out, very bad. After making their way over eight hours by car (and Car Ferry) to the Holland couple's low-rent house in the Dutch woods, they are subjected to various social affronts, including having to watch the Holland couple do a very sexual dance in a sketchy Roadhouse (like something out of a Tobe Hooper or Rob Zombie flick), and having the Danish wife experience the other couple's husband doing "number one" in the bathroom while she is taking a shower.

The plotting of Speak no Evil is so effective that, about halfway through the film, enough is enough and the Danes escape at dawn, only to return to retrieve their daughter's seemingly lost stuffed bunny. This is the classic horror movie trope where the protagonists go toward the axe-wielding villain, not away. Here, awakened, the Holland couple confronts them and puts social pressure on them to stay. Uh, oh.

From here things go downhill fast. That night the Danish father discovers a cabin where the souvenirs from previous victims -- cameras, camping equipment -- are hanging like trophies, and then comes across the Holland couple's son, Abel floating dead upside down in a hot tub. It all becomes very clear, very quickly that the Hollands are a serial killer couple, who maim and kidnap other couples' kids, and kill the adults. Within only a few minutes of the film's elapsed time, their daughter is seized and mutilated by a mysterious third stranger, and the couple are stoned to death in a lonely quarry. That's it, end of story.

Or is it? The last scene has the Holland couple, now with the dead Danish couple's tongueless daughter driving up a hill to a classic Italian villa, searching for their next victim.

Yikes.

Sort of a deconstructed "Stand by Me"

 

I am not a big fan of Blumhouse, mainly because, based on critical and fan ratings, most of their films don't seem to be very good. I have watched a few, and that is the impression that was confirmed when I did.

The Black Phone, however, is a whole nother story. Literally. Based on a short story, this unique thriller-horror entry focuses almost exclusively on the POV of the young people who are affected when the Serial Killer known as "The Grabber" is wreaking havoc on Suburban Denver in the not so recent past.

A word about the Killer. I will literally watch anything that Ethan Hawke makes, and this is no exception. Hawke can do Drama, Comedy, High Arthouse and Horror equally well. Even though I agree that Sean Penn is probably our best American actor, Hawke is probably our most versatile. Here he chews the scenery as the mask-wearing Grabber who seems just crazy enough to drive around in a "raper van" wearing a magician's top hat (and, strangely, not get noticed); and just deadly serious enough to grab young men and keep them in his basement until he is ready to kill them.

The latter is not a spoiler, as the main plot of The Black Phone concerns a young man named Finney-- very well played by Mason Thomas -- who is trying to navigate Adolescence while also trying to avoid being grabbed. Unfortunately, he is, and the heroism he shows in trying to escape is aided by a strange phone which allows him to receive calls from The Grabber's previous victims. The top notch ensemble cast of young actors and actresses, and the storyline concerning their adolescent dreams and desires layered over the riveting Silence of the Lambs style hunt for The Grabber makes for some good film-making.

Based no the POV I was reminded of the iconic Rob Reiner film "Stand By Me" based on a Stephen King (novel?) and thought that The Black Phone kind of deconstructs that film. In Reiner's film, a group of chums growing up in a rather innocent small town in Maine discover a dead body, in The Black Phone, the time and place are less innocent, and the kids basically have to save themselves. If they can.

Kudos to the various adult actors, including the always wonderful Jeremy Davies as Finney's alcoholic, child-abusive Dad. If you have never seen Davies's weird but wonderful performance in Stephen Soderbergh's Solaris, check it out. Or just check out Solaris, because it is excellent.

More atmospheric than scary. But, that's good.

 

J.A. Bayona is in the news a lot lately because he is a key figure in the new Lord of the Rings series on Amazon. Depending on your point of view (expecting to love it, expecting to hate it, etc.) that might lead you to, or push you away from, this atmospheric thriller/horror entry set in a remote area of Spain.

I had seen this before and decided to watch again, and had the same reaction. When the kid disappears, what starts as a straight-up horror film morphs into a thriller. Or does it? The conclusion (no spoilers) reminded me of why I liked it the first time. I'm not giving anything away by saying this is a "surprise ending" story, like The Sixth Sense, or The Others. But the surprise comes pretty much out of Left Field.

The framing tale involves an Orphanage in a creaky old house on the Coast of Spain. Not the sunny, Ibiza coast in the Mediterranean, but the creepy Coast farther North, I think. A young girl is adopted out of this seemingly forgotten children's home, and years later she, her husband, and their adopted son return to try to turn the former Orphanage into a home for developmentally disable children.

But, as is said, the kid disappears, and sets in motion a frantic search, months of waiting, and, eventually, the desperate, trope-y hiring of a Paranormal expert to try to determine if the ghosts of dead children are haunting the house. Think Stephen Spielberg's classic Poltergeist, but in Europe.

What happens next, as I said, would spoil it if you plan on watching. If you love ghost stories, thrillers or horror films you many or may not like this mélange of all three. I know I did.

The Fluidity of Gender?

 

It is possible to ask whether a film can be "important" and also ask that it be well-made. It might even only be useful to ask the latter question, but, where "The Sound of Identity" is concerned, the former almost over-shadows the latter. But not completely.

TSOI is certainly important, as the documentary concerns the US debut of Trans Opera Singer Lucia Lucas in, of all places, Tulsa, Oklahoma. Full disclosure, lo these nine years I am a happy transplant to  this surprising city, and in rooting for it events like Lucia's role as Don Giovanni have a special place in my heart. Leaving that aside for a moment, I think the film is broadly important at a time when LGBTQ+ rights -- so hard won in recent decades -- are under attack. In particular in the same state where Tulsa is located.

And, it is well made. Despite some perhaps unnecessarily long sections -- the scene at a favorite Japanese Restaurant, Jinya, comes to mind -- the technical accomplishments of the film are solid. Camera work is very good, and overall the Editing works. There is a lot to cover in a film that is both about what it means to be Trans, and what it means to play Don Giovanni.

But ultimately TSOI is about Lucia, and Lucia is a special person. As with Trans people I have known, she is supremely self-confident to the point of having literally no (blank)'s to give what you think of her. Why would she, given the courage she has shown both in being true to herself and undergoing a very difficult transition. 

She is also not a bad singer, as the film shows in small, and large ways. Hearing her warm up and rehearse it is clear she is the real deal, which is not easy to be in the small and colloquial world of Opera. What is remarkable is her taking on one of the great roles in all of Opera, Don Giovanni. As is pointed out, Giovanni is the supreme example of "toxic masculinity" while himself having a fluidity to his gender that makes having a Trans singer attempt it all the more fitting, and ironic.

The build-up to the Performance is a steady drumbeat, involving the "PR" aspect of Trans, Tulsa, Mozart. At the same time Tulsa Opera is a business, and if they don't sell enough seats they will lose money on the Opera, regardless of how many Karmic points they score. Personal details like Artistic Director Tobias Picker's own history as a Gay man growing up with Tourette's Syndrome are very powerful. You can't make this stuff up, folks.

This adds a certain non-Operatic drama to the story which makes the overall effect of The Sound of Identity quite pleasing. No matter which way you net out on Trans rights, or even Opera, this is a well made documentary, and worth the watch. Currently streaming on Showtime Anytime.

When's that baby due?

 

Well, well well. I had read some fairly negative reviews of this mildly insane thriller from Ex Machina and Annihilation helmer, Alex Garland. And some reviews that proclaimed it "important" as a feminist "Get Out".

Yeah, it is something. Not sure what, though. Garland is a skilled film-maker, so, as a piece of film craftpersonship "Men" is solid, if not excellent. A perfectly self-contained story, set in a trope-y English country village, with good acting by Jessie Buckley and Penny Dreadful's Rory Kinnear. Its like a good Crème Brule or something.

But, did I want Crème Brule? Or, did I even want desert? The problem with "Men", if there is a problem, is that it appears to be a scathing (withering?) indictment of Toxic Masculinity, perhaps along the lines of the equally insane "Titane" by Julia Ducournau. Or a deconstruction of hetero-normative relations, like the moderately insane, and brilliant, "The Lobster" by Yorgos Lanthimos.

Buckley plays a youngish Londoner who has escaped to the Countryside to mourn (?) the death of her Husband. Said death is told in flashback scenes of increasing depth that attempt to frame the current story, which starts out creepy and just goes downhill from there.

She arrives at an English Country house owned and Airbnb'd by the buck-toothed Jeffrey, played with scenery-chewing relish by Kinnear. As Jeffrey shows our heroine around the home, he seems just a bit too familiar, a bit too awkward and way too toothsome.

The expressionist hair and makeup for Jeffrey pre-sages one of the more harrowing techniques in the film. All of the male characters -- the butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker (no really, the bar owner, the priest, the cop, etc.) -- are all played by Kinnear. In order to not make that too obvious, each character has some over the top aspect of their appearance that seems to initially set them apart. With Jeffrey, the teeth. With the Priest, the hair.

This all becomes problematic when she encounters a young punk of a boy that seems to have had Kinnear's face painted on him with CGI. That is either very scary or very hilarious. And how you view that will largely determine how you judge "Men." The Third Reel asks the viewer to believe, in fact, that all of "the men" she has encountered -- and, who all seem to want to kill her -- are actually the same man.

Is this some fever dream as she wrestles with guilt over hubby's death (no spoilers)? Or, do quiet English villages actually feature, many worlds style, multiple versions of the same toxic male, who all want to kill our heroine? These questions, and more, may be fun to ask. Again, depending on your view of Garland's film.

The Many Worlds Theory

 

I have been dabbling lately in the current state-of-the-art in Quantum Physics - a little thing I like to call the "Many Worlds" theory. Ha ha.

I have been reading, though, about Everettian mechanics, and getting my head pretty blown. Basic idea is that given the messiness of Quantum Physics, the only way to fix it is to posit that measurement of anything, including sub-atomic particles, creates an infinite number of branches, or worlds. Not necessarily "timelines" as SciFi likes to theorize.

So, what a diversion this ambitious, yet somewhat confusing take on, well, Reality is. Critics ranged from raving praise to dubbing Belgian helmer Jaco Van Dormael's perhaps overlong meditation on time, space and love a complete waste of time. But, with Many Worlds, time can't really be "wasted". See how I did that?

Oscar-winner Jared Leto is pretty good as Nemo Nobody, a 118-year-old man reflecting on his life, and most importantly on the decisions he made that created his own "branch". Most of this in an unchallenging heteronormative fashion involves which girl he chooses, or doesn't chose to spend his life with. Nobody, you see, is the last living mortal person alive at a time when mortality has been nearly wiped out by infinite cell regeneration. But, that's for another film. Really, as Dormael spends literally no time explaining how the world got to where it is.

The risk of such a far-reaching premise is that it collapses under its own weight -- which the film ultimately doesn't -- or that you never get "everything explained" in the end, as in the Big Reveal. Did Nobody actually live two, or even three simultaneous existences? Is it possible to wind Time backward once the Universe reaches its fullest Big Bang expansion?

Alas, these big questions aren't really answered. But the Ride is pretty entertaining thanks to some of best Film Editing you'll ever see. A team of Editors (I think including Dormael) must have worked for months to splice together the multiple threads of the story. If, a la Christopher Nolan, you are a fan of film technique then Mr. Nobody is for you. If you want your stories a bit more well-explained, and wrapped up, then you might pass on this one.

Or, maybe the Branch You doesn't pass on it. Ha ha. Sorry...

Love and (Not) Rockets

Well well well. Perhaps the long-in-the-tooth Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) has some life after all. I have read recently that Disney has milked the legendary comic book-cum-film franchise, quite literally, to death. In the name of profit, perhaps.

Once again, the great Taika Waititi saves the day.  It wasn't that long ago that the MCU -- with Disney only recently having bought Marvel Studios -- was gasping a bit for air. Enter half-Maori (Te-Whanau-a-Apanui) creative Waititi who sends us Thor-Ragnarok, which was not only a stunning visual entertainment, but funny in only the way Taika can do funny. I can't even say "Korg" without laughing.

Thor: Love and Thunder has perhaps toned down the dire stakes and visual feast of Ragnarok, in exchange for an intimately personal story about love, family...and of course Thunder. And it is damn funny. Who else would have one of the central narratives of the story be a a God weapon that is jealous of another God weapon, so much that its God-owner, Thor, has to coo to it to make sure it doesn't emit a "janky Bifrost" (LOL) at a key moment in the story.

And the story here is that Thor, wherever he is on the rather complex timeline of the MCU has been languishing and growing a "Dad bod" as he pines for his lost friends, and most importantly, is lost girlfriend, Jane Foster. All is certainly not well, but to steal a phrase from a Shakespeare professor I had at Cal State Northridge, we do need a real "threat" to move things along.

Enter a God Assassin, played with scenery-chewing relish by Christian Bale. Purely out of spite against Gods, he not only threatens the Universe, but does so while kidnapping a bunch of kiddoes from the village/themepark thingy that Ragnarok has become after its destruction in...well, I forget which MCU entry managed that neat trick. That's it, that's the setup.

The storylines mostly concern those that have loved, and lost. In particular Thor and Jane. What Thor doesn't know -- what he can't know -- is that Jane has Stage 4 something-Cancer and is not well. But, she manages to get Thor's Hammer to reassemble and literally becomes Thor, while Thor himself settles for a second rate weapon, nonetheless forged out of a dying star, or some such MCU nonsense.

Following a brief, and perhaps unnecessary detour to visit the rotund Zeus, played by the rotund Aussie actor Russell Crowe and steal Zeus's Thunderbolt (oh, I see what you did there, Taika) the apocalyptic scene plays out in due course. And, things end in both a satisfying, and sad fashion. No spoilers.

Overall, Thor: Love and Thunder delivers the kind of action, visual spectacle and humor that we have come to expect from some entries in the series (Guardians of the Galaxy, anyone?). And of course it has Korg, which is worth the price of admission.

What just happened

 

I read reviews of this film before, and after I watched. I love the Clickbait web pages that promise to "explain the ending" but never do. Spoiler alert, they don't. Mainly, my complaint about Sundown is I have no idea what happened at the end.

The beginning, and middle, are pretty interesting. I love Tim Roth -- although am becoming convinced every character he plays is Tim Roth -- and he, of course, has to carry the film or it fails. He is very good. Roth plays a British fellow on Holiday with his family. From the beginning you aren't sure about a lot of things, including if the woman (played by Charlotte Gainsbourg) is his wife. Apparently, that is director Michel Franco's gig - obfuscating what might otherwise be clear.

OK, I buy that. But at some point it ought to be a bit clearer. Is it? Kinda yes, and kind no. The woman's mother dies, the family returns to London -- minus Roth's character -- and everything gets pretty interesting. A existential drama turns into a love story, and then a crime thriller.

Then, what? The final frame features a shirt draped over a chair with waves breaking in the background. Huh? I like ambiguity but this was a bit much for me. But, the critics loved the film. So, who am I to judge.

This Revenge Fantasy is no Bull

 

Nearly no critics did not like this grueling, Django Unchained style film. And what's not to like, unless you are even a little bit squeamish. Then you should probably avoid this Paul Andrew Williams entry. Because it starts violent and gory, and goes downhill from there.

The basic plot is almost too simple to lay out. The story of a brutal Mob Enforcer betrayed and seemingly murdered by the same mob, then miraculously returning to wreak vengeance is so simple, it is, itself a Trope. As many have observed, Neil Maskell is impossible to turn away from as the titular Bull (think DeNiro in Taxi Driver) , and David Hayman is almost better as the "ruthless Mob boss" from Central Casting.

If their great tradition of Mob Cinema is to be believed, the Brits are about the scariest Organized Criminals on the Planet - with the exception of Bratva. I soooo don't want to ever cross Bratva. Nope.

But Bull is not about the acting, or the direction or photography, all of which are first rate. It is about the lean, spare almost anorexic efficiency of how Williams tells the story. This efficiency is enhanced by a great narrative technique: the back-story of how Bull "dies" is told in flashbacks, chronologically, as the main story moves forward. Again, nothing particularly new here, but the technique is used so well it fits perfectly with the films overall manic purpose.

Clocking in at 88 minutes, Bull is a full speed freight train that starts fast and shifts into super high gear, never letting up until its curious Ending.

Yes, about the Ending. WTF? Is Bull actually a Demon from Hell (a la the excellent Nicholas Gage film Drive Angry)? Is this all a fever dream of a slowly dying Bull, who has been lit on fire and shot with a shotgun? We may never know. And that is probably very OK.

The Cinematic "prose" is Lean (Ha ha)

While I am a lifelong member of the David Lean Marching and Shouting Society, I had actually never heard of this minor jewel. Glad I checked it out.

In an earlier review I praised Lean's masterpiece, "Great Expectations" for remaining true to the spirit of the Dickens classic, while creating something new, as films so often do. "Madeleine" has more of a challenge, being based on a sensational True Crime story from the 19th Century.

Quick summary, daughter of a upper middle class family in 19th Century Glasgow has fallen in love with a smoldering French Lothario, while her by the books Christian Father desires that she matches with a some what milquetoast-y fellow who probably has 100 quid a year, or more. The story does involve murder, but I won't spoil it by saying much more.

Ann Todd, at the time the wife of David Lean is solid as the tortured daughter, and the cast as a whole is quite good. What Lean and screenwriters Stanley Haynes and Nicholas Phipps do so well is to spin the real-life story into something combining Henry James with Daphne Du Maurier, with a hint of Noir. This is 1950, mind you, for some the very height of the genre.

Like Stanley Kubrick, Lean's film-making is robust, meaty and always artistic. An example of this is a scene part way through the film where Madeleine and her Lothario are on a hillside above the Scottish resort town of Rohr (don't know the spelling) and hear music coming from the Pub down in the town. M starts dancing, and tries to get her man to join in.

Dancing, of course, post Hays code and pre- nudity in films is a metaphor for Sex, and as the camera deftly cuts back and forth between the townspeople dancing sweatily, and our two Lovers doing so more sedately. There is that classic cut where, it is assumed, they have had sex but they are completely dressed. They might as well be smoking cigarettes, the implication is so clear,

Much else about Madeleine is to be praised, including the Score, and of course Art Direction and Cinematography. I don't think there are a lot of Lean detractors, but they probably exist. If you like or love Lean, and haven't seen this one, Amazon has the excellent Criterion Collection version: Restored Film digitally transferred - presumably first for DVD. Streamed on a decent HD TV the film looks exquisite.

I don't usually compare the book to the movie, but...

 

I had seen this solid Carl Franklin thriller a few years ago. I recently read the book, and have fallen in love with Walter Mosley. I'm a big fan of Noir, Crime Thrillers, and trying to expand my reading of BIPOC authors.

Anyway, I did really like this, the second time. Only thing, I felt the book did do a better job of capturing the spirit of racisim that existed in post-war LA, especially from the point of view of the main character, Ezekiel "Easy" Rawlins. I will literally watch anything that has Denzel Washington in it, and here he is smooth, savvy self-assured as Mosley's GI Bill homeowner-turned-factory worker. What we don't know as that in this, the first Easy Rawlins mystery, Easy is learning to be what he will become in future books, a Private Detective. Or "Private Dick" as Jennifer Beals's Daphne Monet almost spits out when she first meets our hero.

The direction is assured, the screenplay sometimes a bit creaky, but largely true to Mosely's novel. Some reviewers have pointed out that the film takes a bit of a left turn in the Third Reel. I kept waiting for a crucial scene in a remote hideaway (won't spoil it, read the book) but that is morphed into a shootout in a Malibu house.

Cast here is top-notch. I would say, perhaps, Tom Sizemore as the sleazy gangster Albright may be best. He kind of inhabits the role. Beals is just OK as Daphne. I suppose the issue I had was with her hair and makeup - and costume. I kept thinking they dressed and made up Faye Dunaway way better in Chinatown. Not sure what to make of the minor characters, as they mostly seem a bit cardboard. Was expecting more from Don Cheadle as Mouse. Mouse is a crucial character in the book, albeit one who, although talked about a lot only appears in person in the second half. Cheadle seems to be thoroughly enjoying the role, but I don't think he ever nails it. Perhaps I was distracted by the Gold implants in his teeth.

Overall, taken separately from the book, "Devil" is a good film. Enjoyable, and breezy. A great slice of post-war LA. If you read the book, or plan to, perhaps watch the film first. Must my suggestion.

Love in the (Magical) Afternoon

 I spend a lot of time reviewing older films, so I thought I would take on a (very) recent one. 

Anyone who has read my reviews knows that I tend to insert personal details into them. I suppose that is one way I connect with Film - on a personal level. The Harry Potter series of books and films has a special significance for me, as my daughters grew up reading the books, and seeing the films. I had the good fortune of attending a handful of special screenings of the films at the Warner Brothers lot with my daughter, Ali.

Regardless of how one feels about the "Wizarding World" is it is now so Corporately known, it is hard not to love the story both of how J.K Rowling struggled for years to get her books noticed (because she was a Female Fantasy writer?) and also how later Alan Horn of Warner Brothers promised her that he would shepherd the beloved books into legitimately good films. She didn't believe him, at first, but he came through. Mainly because he involved her in the production -- and she let go of the actual screenplay writing -- and early on, brought in the marvelous Steve Kloves to do the adapatation.

In some ways, in "Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore" the band is back together. Minus Horn, who parlayed a highly successful run at WB to take perhaps the most coveted position in Hollywood, Head of Studio at Disney. But Rowling and Kloves re-unite to create a whole new story, that is not based on a book. They kind of "Game of Thrones" it, to some extent. Literally, and figuratively.

The world of this FB film is not the relatively happy world of the Harry Potter films. Oh, yes, they were tinged with darkness, but early on, and even through the end the kids -- grown into adults -- were what really drove the story. Here, no such luck. The eerily-named Grindelwald -- the name even sounds German -- is attempting to exert the Magical world equivalent of White Supremacy, by taking over the Worldwide Confederation of Magic with an aim toward wiping out the non- pure-blood "Muggles". 

How and why, and how it ends is for you to find out. I do not include Spoilers in my reviews. The conflict itself sets the stage for a multi-layered, surprisingly complex drama that is peppered with action set pieces. Jude Law plays a young-ish Aldus Dumbledore, excellent Danish actor Mads Mikkelson takes up the character of Grindelwald from Johnny Depp (that's a whole nother story) and the entire cast is brilliant. Veteran Wizarding World helmer David Yates turns in perhaps his best effort to date, and James Newton Howard's score pays just enough homage to John Williams without sounding obsequious.

 But, again, the accomplishment of FB III is how it juggles numerous very human story threads against the backdrop of a "the world is going to end" conflict. In that sense, another film where a small human drama plays out against a much larger backdrop, Casablanca, comes to mind. Dumbledore has been rumoured for years to possibly be Gay, or Bi. I won't say whether that is confirmed our denied here (I missed FB II, so don't scold me if it was revealed there), Eddie Redmayne is pining for his lost love. I would watch a film that was just about Eddie Redmayne pining for his lost love, he is so, so good. And numerous seemingly minor characters attain nearly Cosmic significance. Dan Fogler's Jacob Kowlaski is about the best "schmo" I can remember in film. Or, at least, for quite some time. And, in "Seabiscuit" fashion he plays a role in the Resolution that I, again, won't spoil.

Finally, Fantastic Beasts is really about the Beasts. And Magical they are. From the brilliant creations of the Qilins to the horrifying Beast which inhabits a Wizard prison in Germany, the SFX folks really went way, way beyond the call of duty. If you love the Wizarding World, or even if you don't you should spend some time here. You will not regret it.

Cannibal Crush, its not

 

Well, that just happened. I agree with most Amazon reviewers (who agree with most critics) that Julia Ducournau's grisly paen to Vegetarianism is, well, its something. Highly original. Well-crafted. Not what I was expecting. In a word, mildly or very shocking.

Raw concerns a young French woman who is attending a Veterinary School as a "Rookie" -- a school where her sister is already a more experienced student. Following a very strange Hazing of the new students, the film takes several left turns about 1/3 of the way through, and it is not a spoiler to say that Cannibalism is involved. But, and here is perhaps Ducournau's brilliance, you hardly notice it is happening, and then it is just part of the fabric of the story. The very banality of the consuming of human flesh is what makes it so frightening.

Raw may not interrogate the boundaries of what is acceptable in Cinema, but it sure asks some interesting questions. No, post- House of 1,000 Corpses, post- Green Inferno, even post- Human Centipede, it is pretty hard to call anything genuinely shocking, or beyond the pale. I would say gut-wrenching is more the right description.

Garance Marillier plays Justine with just the right blend of wide-eyed naivete and clear-eyed commitment to the cause. The cause, here, being trying not to succumb to the strange illness that she has contracted from consuming, well, it would be a spoiler to say what.

It is possible to admire the film craftspersonship here, without buying in to the horror genre shock. Not easy, but possible. Definitely worth a watch if you love Cinema.

Who are you?

Since I am on a current journey through my teenage years (see my last review of Licorice Pizza (https://medium.com/p/ab7a928e60de), why not re-visit this remarkable art-house gem from Aussie director Peter Weir? Starring the inimitable Richard Chamberlain who, to his credit, doesn't even try to fake an Aussie accent.

I have probably seen "The Last Wave" at least three times. Once, in 1977 when it was first released, again several years ago on a streaming platform, and last night on HBO Max. This kind of perspective can be valuable in assessing whether what one thought of a film when one first saw it still holds true. In the case of "The Last Wave", it really does.

The story line here concerns a Sydney Barrister who is asked to take on a "Legal Aid" (read, Pro Bono) murder case involving Aboriginals. A black man has died rather dramatically during a rain storm, and other black men are accused of committing Murder. Chamberlain rather deftly portrays the Barrister -- David Burton -- who has little experience in Criminal Law, and is more focused on raising his Bourgeois family in the Sydney suburbs than even the practice of law.

The plot and story are really a setup for the deeper artistic intent that Weir has going. This is not a story about an out-of-his-depths attorney trying to defend a black man accused of murder, it concerns nothing less than the terrible history of European Settlers in Australia, who destroyed traditional Aborigine culture and killed many people, and also the vast difference between white and Aboriginal views of religion, the Law, Ethics and even the Cosmos. Top that off with one of the best twist endings ever rendered in Celluloid and its no wonder the critics loved the film.

I first saw "The Last Wave" at the Monica Twin theater in Santa Monica, California. This very specific detail is fresh in my mind because I remember that, after watching out of the theater, my life had literally changed in the course of two hours. Weir's strange masterpiece, with its Cosmic storyline, deeply personal drama and dreamy camera work was one of a handful of films I saw growing up that made me love Cinema. George Roy Hill's multiple Oscar-winning "The Sting" was another.

Returning these many years later I was struck by how well it holds up. The narrative of a White (European) man trying to hold together a "center" which "cannot hold" (to paraphrase Yeats) is riveting, and in some ways horrifying. The more Burton tries to understand what has happened with these possibly Tribal Aboriginals, and take control of the situation in which he finds himself, the less able to do so he is. This kind of Cinematic entropy that brings to mind another great Fish out of Water tale from the same era, "The Wicker Man," where a British Police officer investigates the mysterious disappearance of a young girl on an Island that still practices a Pagan religion.

The rest, as they say, is History. Literally. But, is it White Man History (which follows a linear progression from the primitive to the modern) or Aboriginal History, which is timeless, and cyclic? The answer to that question might just save Burton's life. Or might not. The only way to find out is to watch this on your favorite Streaming platform: included "free" on HBO Max and AppleTV, and available for rent or purchase on most other platforms.

Its a Record Store! Its a Movie!

To say that Paul Thomas Anderson's marvelous coming-of-age tone poem, "Licorice Pizza" made me nostalgic is a huge understatement. Since I watched it a couple of weekends ago in a local art house theater here in my adopted home town of Tulsa, OK I have been thinking about my teenage years. A lot.

Well, maybe it has something to do with the fact I am about to turn sixty. Yikes.

Full disclosure. I grew up in almost exactly the region of Los Angeles in which the film is set. At almost exactly the same time. Watching "Licorice Pizza" was a bit like being teleported back in time, and what a time it was. LA of the 1970s was an amazing place, where the film industry was re-inventing itself, bands like Fleetwood Mac and Steely Dan were recording some of the greatest Album-Oriented-Rock ever committed to analog tape, and fashion. Well, fashion left something to be desired.

Anderson, as he has done in all of his films, positively nails this vibe. In "Boogie Nights" his visual style and precise exploration of character, and the human condition exploded onto the silver screen. And made Mark Wahlberg a star. That and his his prosthetic...well. Let's keep it PG here.

The film-maker has matured, and it shows in "Licorice Pizza". In "Boogie Nights" and even "Inherent Vice" he relied on the gimmick of the LA porn industry and the extraordinary story-making of Thomas Pynchon, respectively as platforms for his unique filmic 'voice'. "Licorice Pizza", by contrast, lays it all on the line, as the story is unknown and the two actors who play the main characters -- a la Wes Anderson's equally excellent "Moonrise Kingdom" -- were unknown prior to this film. So, it is all up to Anderson and his team of actors, DP, musical scorer, etc. to pull off what "Licorice Pizza" so remarkably pulls off.

Indie pop darling Alana Haim plays a twenty something lass with whom our main male character, a few years younger, becomes infatuated. The story of how that teenage angst-laden crush evolves to an almost adult Love is something to be seen. And heard. 

We pause for a message from our Radiohead-heads. Ha ha.

Anderson and Radiohead lead guitarist Jonny Greenwood have collaborated a couple times and "Licorice" is no exception. However, Anderson has an interesting approach to music in his films, in that he doesn't just have someone score the entire film, he uses a pastiche of original music and period songs -- hearing Bowie's wonderful "Life on Mars" really took me back, by the way -- so it is sometimes hard to tell where songs end and Greenwood begins. 

Again, for those who know, and love Radiohead, ha ha.

"Licorice", however, is all about the story, and the setting. The earnest push and pull of young love (not to be too cliched) is so beautifully rendered here, it is almost possible to miss the 1970s era San Fernando Valley sets that provide the background for said tale of love, loss, and love again. Anderson's camera follows our two young lovers from ranch style home to retail storefront to the iconic Hollywood Palladium in what feels like a single take. Not dissimilar to the single take opening of "Boogie Nights" with Rollergirl skating around the dance floor.

But I digress. "Licorice Pizza" is great film-making, and great acting. If Anderson doesn't finally win a Best Director Oscar, it will be a shame. But we know how good he is, so perhaps it doesn't matter,