1980s List Discussion and Suggestions (Lists Project Vol. 3)

[knives]

Silvestre
I know it is historically improbable, but I'm curious is this ever fell into GRR Martin's sight? A few coincidences are really uncanny. Though the film itself needs no comparison since despite its simple frame is really one of the best films I've seen lately. Despite being very quiet and straightforward it nevertheless culminates as a dozen different movies all aiming to figure out narratives. It starts out, like Monteiro's last film, as a strangely artificial account of history before shifting concerns to fantasy, fable, fairy tale, myth, and everything else that might be contained within history. I don't think this has much to do with fantasy specifically, but how stories and memory can treat history as fantasy (i.e. a significant amount of Shakespeare particularly MacBeth). Though the film doesn't just leave that o its own narrative construction with its visual prose also containing some interesting moments. Obviously the painted backgrounds and clothes indicate the interplay between real and legend, but (to give just an example) the fact that the battle of the dragon is only painted for us and not shown is an hilarious and telling point.

A Cry in the Dark
Jumping over any and all Seinfeld references I have to admit to receiving this film with a bit of a meh. The story is pretty interesting and focusing on the ignorance the media produces is a pretty smart move, but it seems designed particularly through the direction to be a laundry film. It doesn't really add anything to the subject or even rise to an interesting beyond the base level presentation.

The Long Riders
I'll admit at this point I'm just fatigued with cinema stories of the James gang and a casting gimmick isn't the right sort of hook to make this unique in the ocean. This especially comes through with the casting of the Ford brothers which seems needlessly awkward and even a little miscast. The biggest and most surprising problem is just how ill at ease Hill seems to be making a straightforward western. His tendency for stylization pops up mainly in a poor facsimile of classic techniques including some of the worst rear projection this side of Hitchcock. the end result just seems stiff and colourless. It hits all of the expected points in the expected ways giving the sense of a good movie, but not the experience of one. It's honestly surprising that a movie with the Quaids and Carradines could be so ordinary.

House of Games
This is a damned fine debut, but I couldn't help but think less of it compared with Mamet's later films due to how blatantly he seems to be using Woody Allen as a springboard. Yet it also compelling when he comes across fully formed, not just as a writer which should be obvious but as a film director. The movie, especially early on, allows for itself a clunky ugliness that Allen has never done and the transition from theater acting to cinema acting is pretty striking as much for how rough it is as it is convincing.

Actually the influence has a certain excitement to it as the film feels structured so that an Allen protagonist falls into the world of Mamet. As I understand things Mamet only directed this by accident with Peter Yates originally going to do it. Yet this film is such a perfect first for him that I can hardly think of it coming out any other way. The film swiftly becomes a commentary between mediums and artists. Mamet teases his own Judaism against Allen, his dialogue against, and so on. It's more fun being on your stomach is the basic message but the overall result is much more than that.

Withnail & I
This is a fairly superior variation on Midnight Cowboy though it does constantly risk what all comedies about junkies do. It doesn't really avoid making the two leads obnoxious beyond all comprehension, but it speeds through each scene quickly enough that whatever bits the leads can't charm through are quickly gone. That said Richard Griffiths manages to pitch the film at its highest highs and keep away any and all obnoxiousness which only hinders the other scenes that don't accomplish as much. It really is crazy though, in a good way, how rightly it gets drug addict personality and craziness down. That is to say completely absurd and so unaware that it has to be funny when you hear about even as you live it it is shit.

Something Wild
I'm not entirely sure how to take this one. The basic and familiar story structure on display is not one I particularly like, but the film goes out of its way to correct a lot of the inherent problems by making the setting by Griffith's life and history. Certainly no one could accuse Daniels of being more than a trifle, at least at first, for her. This real interdependence between them is developed just perfectly to make them both independent in the same stroke. I also like the film's willingness to sneak in little bits of sadness while not really developing them or caring if they are noticed. I suppose the thing with Daniels' home life is the most clear instance as if Griffith's whole relationship with Liotta, but it is sneaked in through the oddest means too like the way Griffith interacts with her mother. I guess the later parts of the film deepen the the early Bringing Up Baby parts enough to boost the whole to semi-greatness maybe.

Element of Crime
I must be going mad now given how many of these von Trier's I've been liking lately after years of indifference. It's very amusing to see him try out black and white as amber, but a lot of times it does seem to be simply high quality Tarkovsky riffing. The most compelling point to the film is how he seems to be using vocal inflections. I have no clue how much english he knew at the time, but so much of the film seems to be playing with how these sounds effect. A lot of their content seems to be nonsense poetry and fairy tales, but intoned in this utterly hypnotic and lovely way. Given how blurred the look of the film leaves them I wouldn't be surprised if the actors weren't primarily hired for these vocal qualities. None of them speak indistinctly with the accents and pacing managing this horrible sort of genius.

Forever Evil
This is a shockingly good film for what it is at least. The best quality is in how it utilizes filler to make the film of average length for its era. It's nicely spread across the film and typically works to add flavour to the characters. Its silly and obvious, but not boring which is usually where these films end up. It's also surprisingly well acted and shot for a film that couldn't have cost much of anything to make. Again nothing award worthy, but enough to calmly engage with.

The Best of Times
Russell and Williams are way too baby faced for any of this mid-life crisis shenanigans to work. By themselves there's a vaguely misogynistic sense underlying the film, but it really is impossible to treat it with more than a dismissive laugh with these two actors. They try to lift the material as much as possible, but to no avail. Actually the one actor who convinces is Donald Moffat in all of his bemused anger. He even gets the best line about tax loopholes. I suppose the sports aspect of the film is the selling point, but it is dealt with in such a contrived manner it is hard to gather any enthusiasm. Even Spottiswoode who is usually pretty good in his plain way deals with everything in a rote fashion as if he didn't know how to deal with the material and just let Williams act as if he was on stage.

Fear City
This would make the best triple feature with Streets of Fire and Alphabet City. All three are this beautiful new wave explosion of seed. As should be expected this film is the seediness building a great hierarchy of the grotesque wherein even the best character is a warped and dirty variation of reality. There's no Hollywood softballing here. Even Berenger's solemn point of view character doesn't bother to ask forgiveness. Really though all of this is familiar in Ferrara's canon and thematically most of his subsequent crime films are better, but in terms of technique Ferrara is so audacious here that it revitalizes his tropes into a new beast. The neon washes the characters in a sea of blood like the nihilistic rants of a disappointed madman. It actually makes me think of Gaspar Noe, who has got to be a fan, but only to lower my already low consideration of his career. The characters are freed to deal with each other as people because of how the flair exposes the philosophy of the film rather than the redundancy a lot of the action Noe deals with presents. Ferrara has the story and then its commentary via the style. Even when the lighting is more naturalistic it seems based on on the idea that they are digging their own graves. Their natural shadows fill the screen like a chiaroscuro painting sucking away their hope and making them look dried and old. Even Griffith who's always beautiful has this dried up quality visually like an old pro would. Simply the effect of these aged husks is devastating.

[Mr Sausage]

I thought I'd catch up on some of the eighties Schwarzenegger films I've never seen.

Raw Deal (John Irvin, 1986). Here's an incoherent and mean-spirited movie. Disgraced FBI agent Schwarzenegger is asked by his former boss to go undercover in a crime organization, off the record, since his boss was taken off the case following the murder of his son. I thought Schwarzenegger's job was to expose the organization because there's no way he'd just be hired to murder everyone and fulfill a blood vendetta...but nope, turns out he really is just hired as an assassin. Somehow, the movie doesn't find this problematic. It does at least serve as a decent explanation for why Schwarzenegger never seemed to be putting together an actual plan; he just wanders around, exchanging tough-guy dialogue, proposing schemes like blowing up police stations (seriously), manhandling the owners of transvestite bars (seriously...?), romancing some moll even though he has a wife (who spends her days making pies to throw at him when he comes home), before deciding he's finished doing whatever the hell he was doing and kills everyone. This leads to a baffling scene where he drives to a hitherto unmentioned rock quarry full of characters we've never seen before and starts riding around shooting everyone while blaring the Stones' Satisfaction from his radio. We then move to a totally different location for the actual climax, a boringly shot gunfight whose insistence on using alternating closeups of people shooting and being shot makes it impossible to get any sense of the spacial relations. The movie ends with a stunning scene of Schwarzenegger bullying his former boss into doing his physical therapy like a good boy. Nothing anyone does makes a bit of sense. It also contains this incredible piece of dialogue:

Cop: Joseph P. Brenner, eh. What's the P. stand for?
Arnie: [long pause while he considers the answer] ...pussy.

Red Heat (Walter Hill, 1988): I'm not really a Walter Hill fan, but I did kind of like 48 Hours. This is a remake of that movie, except instead of a jack-ass cop dragging around an outgoing convict, we have a jack-ass cop babysitting a monotone, expressionless soviet cop. Lots of typical soviet behaviours ensue, like playing chess, criticizing capitalism, covering up the existence of labour camps, and wrestling with beefy guys in bath houses. It's not all that funny, the buddy aspect lacks chemistry or character development since Schwarzenegger plays his role like a robot, and all Belushi does is talk about breasts and crack lame jokes about the Kremlin. A middling Schwarzenegger movie. A typical Hill movie, too: well-made without being very impressive.

[bamwc2]

Jeez, Sausage, I'm not sure why, but the insanity that you described in Raw Deal really makes me want to see it now.

[Mr Sausage]

There is actually some mild entertainment value in its oddness. But if you're going to watch one lunatic Schwarzenegger vehicle this decade, make it Commando. Unreasonably silly and entertaining.

[bamwc2]

There is actually some mild entertainment value in its oddness. But if you're going to watch one lunatic Schwarzenegger vehicle this decade, make it Commando. Unreasonably silly and entertaining.

Oh, I've seen Commando. It's the crazy shit that goes down in films like that makes me want to complete my 80's Schwarzenegger collection.

[Cold Bishop]

A typical Hill movie, too: well-made without being very impressive.

Johnny Handsome is a typical Walter Hill film; Red Heat is Hill slumming it and trying to recapture an earlier box-office hit (which, frankly, always felt like diluted Hill to me).

I probably won't get around to rewatching/reviewing all of Hill's films this period, but certainly Southern Comfort is worth a look if any of his films are this decade.

[bamwc2]

I probably won't get around to rewatching/reviewing all of Hill's films this period, but certainly Southern Comfort is worth a look if any of his films are this decade.

Too true. I think that I saw something about a blu coming out soon as well.

[swo17]

Yes and yes.

[domino harvey]

Joseph P Brenner

I recognize a lot of Schwarzenegger roles by name thanks to the Best Show bit from when he was running for office and a super-fan called up

[Mr Sausage]

A typical Hill movie, too: well-made without being very impressive.

Johnny Handsome is a typical Walter Hill film; Red Heat is Hill slumming it and trying to recapture an earlier box-office hit (which, frankly, always felt like diluted Hill to me).

I probably won't get around to rewatching/reviewing all of Hill's films this period, but certainly Southern Comfort is worth a look if any of his films are this decade.

It was an unfair comment. I should've said: a typical reaction from me to a Walter Hill movie.

[thirtyframesasecond]

Can I suggest a spotlight film? Ousmane Sembene's 'Camp De Thiaroye' is an incredibly powerful indictment of France's colonial past - West African conscripted soldiers during WW2 are put in a temporary 'camp' en route to Dakar, promised their freedom and the pay owed to them. But gradually they rebel, first over rotten meat (echoes of Battleship Potemkin), then it escalates rapidly. There is a R1 DVD and I'm sure it's on Youtube. A definite contender for my top spot.

[swo17]

Can I suggest a spotlight film?

Only if you have a pulse. Thanks for the recommendation!

[bamwc2]

Can I suggest a spotlight film? Ousmane Sembene's 'Camp De Thiaroye'...

While I doubt that it will make my list, you are correct that this is a great film!

[bamwc2]

Viewing Log:

American Gigolo (Paul Schrader, 1980): Richard Gere (who was long ago briefly a member of my extended family) stars as a suave, intelligent, and very buff gigolo named Julian in this film written and directed by Paul Schrader. Julian seems to lead a charmed life consisting of sexual encounters with older women who shower him with gifts and an affair with a state senator's wife named Michelle (Lauren Hutton). However this all changes when a his pimp friend Leon (Bill Duke) sets him up with a rough kinkster whose wife is raped and murdered soon after Julian visits. Julian quickly becomes the the focus of Detecive Sunday's (Hector Elizondo) homicide investigation and must constantly watch over his should to make sure that he isn't be framed for the crime. I knew going in that there would be a murder in the film, but I didn't expect it to be this unrelentingly dark as Julian descends into levels of paranoia last seen in The Conversation. The ending is ultimately unsatisfying (at least to me) as

Spoiler

Michelle agrees to provide Julian with an alibi, thereby hurting her husband's chances in the primaries

but there's enough here for a mild recommendation, most notably an awesome soundtrack featuring the always great Blondie.

Arrebato (Iván Zulueta, 1980): What the hell was this? The story begins with film director José Sirgado (Eusebio Poncela) receiving a late night delivery of a film reel and audio cassettes. Intrigued, he plays them and finds that they were sent by his acquaintance and possible gay lover Pedro (Will More). What follows is a lengthy flashback detailing the time the two spent together along with José's girlfriend Ana (Cecilia Roth). The already ethereal and dreamlike film takes a turn for the supernatural when Pedro becomes convinced that his Super 8 camera is possessed by the spirit of a vampire and sets out to prove his hypothesis even if it costs him his life. The description may sound strange because it is, but this is also a damn good movie with superb cinematography and an always engaging story. Another easy recommendation.

Rendez-vous (André Téchiné, 1985): This interesting erotic psychological thriller comes to us not only from Téchiné but also co-writter young Olivier Assayas. It stars Juliette Binoche in one of her earliest roles as Nina a stage actress who inexplicably inspires madness in her lovers. As the film begins Paulot (Wadeck Stanczak) is normal realtor who helps Nina find an apartment. She invites him to see her small role in a play. He comes and meets her abusive boyfriend Quentin (Lambert Wilson). She quickly leaves Quentin for Paulot, but can't keep her obsessive and jealous ex out of her life. When Quentin dies unexpectedly, it would seem to be the end of their problems, but the young couple soon finds that the specter of Quentin hangs over them in ways that they could never have predicted. It's far from a great movie, but it still seems likes a worthwhile entry in Téchiné's oeuvre with all three leads turning in great performances.

Taxi zum Klo (Frank Ripploh, 1980): Written by, directed, and starring Frank Ripploh, Taxi zum Klo (or Taxi to the Toilets) tells the story of a fictionalized account of Ripploh's own life. Here he's a 30 year old openly gay science teacher who spends his free time cruising public restrooms looking for anonymous sex when he isn't forced into mind numbing after school activities with his fellow teachers. As the film progresses, Frank begins a relationship with movie usher Bernd (Bernd Broaderup) and the remainder of the film charts their highs and lows as the two deal with infidelity and incommensurable life goals. Going in, I had no idea that the film contained several graphic hardcore scenes. As a heterosexual male I didn't exactly find them arousing, but they felt right for the film. I understand that the film had an enormous impact on subsequent 'queer' cinema, and thankfully it stands out as one of the better entries in that genre of which I'm admittedly not overly familiar. It's no masterpiece in my estimation, but it is good enough for an easy recommendation.

Zu: Warriors from the Magic Mountain (Hark Tsui, 1983): Rumor has it that Thomas Mann adapted his own 1927 novel The Magic Mountain for the big screen around the same time that he authored the screen play for Porky's. Here the action is shifted from a WWI era Swiss sanitarium to a version of ancient China rife with ghosts, demons, and physical hijinx, most of which were missing from the original source novel. However, this new take works well as the story takes on new life as it shifts focus to the exploits of military deserter Di Ming Qi (Yuen Biao) who teams up with a man named Fatty to fake his death. When Fatty pushes him off a cliff, he finds himself in a haunted crypt only to be rescued by demon hunter Ding Yin (Adam Cheng). He then becomes Mater Yin's apprentice only to have to defend his dying master after the evil Blood Devil leaves him mortally wounded. Qi then engages in a quest with a rotating cast of team members (a la Final Fantasy or other role laying games) to find the fabled Dual Swords, the only weapons capable of killing the Blood Devil. This film is good. The description may make it sound like a "so bad it's good" kind of film, but no. It's good simpliciter. This horror/comedy action hybrid has equal amounts of laughs and a kung fu, making for an always entertainingly absurd adventure. If you're still on the fence about watching it, just remember that it can't be any worse than what Visconti did to Mann's Death in Venice!

[FerdinandGriffon]

I simply cannot resist posting this any longer.

[domino harvey]

Batman (Tim Burton 1989) I doubt I've seen this since I was seven or eight, but I don't remember ever caring much for it then and that's about where I am now. I am definitely not the right audience for superhero movies, as most of the time I kept asking myself variations of Jack Nicholson's famous line, "Where does he get those wonderful toys?" But the same should be asked of the Joker, no? Who made their hideouts/professionally painted their vehicles/constructed their props/&c... Besides the usual baggage, though, this is a frustrating film because I got the sense an earlier draft of the script was far more biting and insightful with regards to the Joker's plans for Gotham-- as it is, the Joker only hints at the connections between aesthetics, beauty, art, and the freedom of ugliness (which is a compelling philosophical approach, and one given all of two lines to explore). The (non-)chemistry between Bruce Wayne and Vicki Vale is the real joke (though for whatever reason I remembered the name of Kim Basinger's character, so she's got that going for her), and the action sequences are surprisingly dull and uninviting. Nicholson's performance here has been overrated even in the wake of Ledger's superior take, but he does get off a couple stray moments of nicely observed dementia, and as I fondly remembered it, the Prince-themed art museum defacement is better than anything else here by a country mile.

the Mighty Quinn (Carl Schenkel 1989) Denzel Washington and Robert Townsend speak in Jamaican accents for 98 minutes. Had I known, I would not have bothered. Not knowing, I bothered and was also bothered by the halfhearted crime story and buddy movie aspects, the poorly messaged social/class commentary, and whatever else this film thinks it contributed to a viewing audience. In trying to be all things, it is nothing, except a chore to sit through.

Nightmare AKA Nightmares in a Damaged Brain (Romano Scavolini 1981) After much hunting and discouragement on the second-hand market, I finally picked this up and was treated to… uh… wait, why does anyone give a shit about this? True, you could C+P that question for a lot of the slashers I've spent untold manhours with, but this is pretty bad and dull even for this genre, with one gory special effect repeated over and over as a demented mental patient revisits the scene of his crime and then aimlessly wanders around without doing anything until the end. For fans of annoying kids who whine and get yelled at a lot and have perfect 6-6 aim with a revolver only.

Sleepaway Camp II: Unhappy Campers (Michael A. Simpson 1988) / Sleepaway Camp III: Teenage Wasteland (Michael A Simpson 1989) I loathed the first Sleepaway Camp, which was an unnecessarily grating and obnoxious piece of trash with a super-inflated reputation due to its twist ending. These sequels wisely ditch the baggage of that film and settle into predictable and frankly tiring storylines wherein the filmmakers gently prod the popular misconception that slasher movies are overly moralistic with regards to their victims by having the assailant in both films not only cheerfully known, but shown executing only those who violate rather limited social mores. This is a one-joke movie and there's two of them. That said, while each film intentionally drains itself of any tension or narrative momentum by filling their running time with stripped-down set-up-->delivery, set-up--> delivery, &c of the same goddamn premise, the films' throw everything and see what sticks ethos occasionally hits something novel. Credit where it's due, each film has at least one good moment. I will spoiler each in case you want to see these unsullied:

Spoiler

The premise of Sleepaway Camp II is that murdering camp counselor Angela keeps killing sinful campers and then telling everyone she sent them home. Midway through the film, a camper disrespects Angela and she menacingly tells her she'll make sure she goes home all right. Cut to: the camper's parents driving off with their daughter as Angela sees her off. Not bad!

Spoiler

Sleepaway Camp III is just more of the same and cares even less about making sense, which is why its inventive method of taking out the gal from Georgia via tying her to the cords of a flagpole and running her up to the very top and then letting her go crashing back down into a mess on the pavement is an effective and creative exit-strategy. However, I'd trade the bright comic image of that murder for not having seen a paycheck cashing Michael J Pollard take entirely too much screentime sucking pervertedly on a teenager's breasts.

[knives]

The Burton helmed sequel is a lot better because it totally abandons any pretense of the real world and just completely goes within his head. It's also so insanely hilarious.

[domino harvey]

I was going to mention I remember liking Batman Returns when I was younger, and just about everyone else I knew hated it. I distinctly remember not liking the last two films, but I'm hardly alone on that! But , I'll wait to revisit those in the next decade project

[knives]

Yeah, the same thing with me to the point where I'm indifferent on revisting this first one, but rewatching Returns a few years ago was a shockingly good experience with a good balance of dark and adult humour to the setting.

[swo17]

It also has one of Elfman's best scores.

[matrixschmatrix]

Popeye (Robert Altman, 1980)

I was expecting to like this- there were nice writeups of it recently both from David Kalat in Movie Morlocks and Scott Tobias at the Dissolve- but I was blown away by how charmed I was. It's a fascinating movie, a musical that casts basically nobody that can sing, a comedy where most of the jokes are too low key really to land (although the gag about Popeye's picture of his father is pretty great) and a big Altman ensemble where the characters you wind up kind of falling in love with quite literally have the depth of a cartoon- but it's a big weird ramshackle thing that holds together and is a delight throughout.

I'm a longtime fan of Shelly Duvall, but this is such perfect casting that it feels as though she were created in a lab to play the real life version of Olive Oyl, and her loopy energy and strange elegance make for a few scenes that are weirdly beautiful- her dance to the He Needs Me song that PT Anderson lifted for Punch Drunk Love in particular, but everything about the way her feet seem bigger than the entirety of her body and her slightly cracked voice makes her both the perfect incarnation of a kind of irritating character and a character I fell in love with immediately and could watch all day. I'm contrarywise no fan of Robin Williams, but you'd hardly know it was him here- Tobias compares him to Elliot Gould in The Long Goodbye, and despite the wild difference in tone between the two, there's definitely a resonance there. Williams sidles through the movie with a strange, rolling gait mumbling about what's happening and falling ass backwards into the plot, creating a version of Popeye who's both an incredibly strong fight winning lead and a charmingly reticent guy willing to hang out in the background for a good chunk of the film.

I'd seen pieces of this before, and somehow none of them worked well- but all put together it just builds energy until you want to watch it three or four times running, or watch a nine movie series with these versions of the characters. For a movie that looks like a high school play at points- there's a distinctly handmade quality to all of the sets and props in this, including a fake octopus that came straight out of the Ed Wood playbook- and is on a not fantastic looking DVD, it nonetheless creates a visual world that makes a lot of otherwise not great cartoon beats fit in nicely. The soundtrack is interesting, too, as most of the music is sort of ballpark sounding organ played through a cheap synth or something, tinny and cheesy but as charming as everything else, and the Altman overlapping dialog plays over different speakers in my 5.1 setup, so that you get almost a different movie depending on where in the room you sit. I enthusiastically recommend this one.

[Feego]

Popeye (Robert Altman, 1980)

Yes yes yes! I am in complete agreement with your review of Popeye. Although like you I had seen parts of it over the years, I first watched the complete film just a few years ago after picking it up in the bargain bin at Walmart. I bought it mainly because I'm also a big Shelley Duvall fan and I loved the song "He Needs Me." But the whole movie works in such a charmingly clunky way. The fact that it has turned up on some lists of the worst movies ever made just mystifies me. Although it was, I believe, a work-for-hire, Altman put his stamp all over it. It feels very much like an Altman film, and yet it is also true to the spirit of the original "Popeye" cartoons. Harry Nilsson's "alleged songs" (as Leonard Maltin called them) manage to be so understated but very funny and satirical if you pay attention to them, notably Olive Oyl's suggestive and alarmed ode to Bluto, "He's Large," and the opening town anthem:

Sweet Sweethaven.
God must love us.
We the people
Of Sweethaven.
God must have landed here.
Why else would he strand us here?

And it came very close to not featuring Shelley Duvall at all. The studio wanted Gilda Radner, and Duvall (Altman's own choice) was reluctant to accept the role because as a child she was mockingly called Olive Oyl. But here she proves herself a great comedic actress, very much holding her own with Robin Williams (who thankfully is almost forced to be more reserved than he usually is due to the nature of his character). It's one of her best performances, and it's a shame she never got another role like this afterward. She truly made an art of awkwardness.

[knives]

yet it is also true to the spirit of the original "Popeye" cartoons.

On this account I feel that what really turns the film into genius is that it is so entirely unsure of what Popeye to be. It plays with the cartoons and the Thimble Theater with such compelling effort that it just becomes a joy watching how Altman and Jules Feiffer try to get a hold of the material.

[Mr Sausage]

So 1981 was the year of werewolf films. I don't know if it's coincidence or if there's some sociological explanation, but either way, I (re)watched the major ones from that year.

An American Werewolf in London (John Landis, 1981): I was disappointed with the movie when I first saw it in highschool, thinking the set-pieces superb but the movie otherwise insubstantial and underdeveloped in a way I couldn't articulate. I liked it much better this time. It's a very entertaining movie, and the set-pieces are still superb. The transformation and the nazi-wolves dream sequence get all the attention, but I was most impressed with the attack on the moors where our protagonists try to mask their growing panic with increasingly strained joking. It captures a note of fear and disbelief I haven't seen in any similar movie, or not nearly so well. The humour, even the more juvenile stuff, worked, although it makes the film feel a bit schizophrenic since there's enough humour nearly to tip the film into outright comedy, but so much else is treated with convincing naturalism. But I've finally identified the chief flaw of the movie, the one that eluded me initially: the climax comes too soon. There's only a single transformation and one small scene in which David grapples with his atrocities before the climax gets going. There just isn't sufficient drama in our lead's dilemma. One of the reasons The Wolf Man worked so well was it gave Lon Chaney time to deal with his guilt and horror and ponder solutions. Landis' movie compresses these bits too much. It's too bad, as the acting is of a high enough standard (Griffin Dunne and Jenny Agutter are particularly good) that the dramatic moments are always skillfully handled. An engaging and well-made film that doesn't quite match its reputation, but isn't so disappointing after all.

The Howling (Joe Dante, 1981): I saw this around the same time I saw An American Werewolf in London, and my reaction to them both was the same: impressive set-pieces that didn't add up to much. However, my appreciation of American Werewolf having lately increased, I revisited Dante's movie with the same hopes. No such luck, it's the same movie I saw a decade ago. It has the schlockier elements of Landis' humour (a penchant to name everyone after directors of werewolf movies in place of Landis' use of pop songs about the moon), but Landis' movie could also be charming and droll, as well as serious when it wanted to be. Dante's movie is cheeky and not much else. It's not funny enough to be an outright comedy, but not invested enough in its characters and (admittedly ridiculous) scenario to be serious horror. I would guess it wants to be a loving reflection of B-movies, but it mostly comes off as light-weight. Imperfect as it is, American Werewolf is the superior movie.

Wolfen (Michael Wadleigh, 1981): At two hours, with extensive location work in New York city, including atop Brooklyn Bridge, and with Albert Finney in the lead, this was definitely intended as a prestige picture. It's filled with considerably more gravitas than the other two. It takes its themes of urban decay and the arrogance of modernity very seriously. There's also a strain of Native American spiritualism (or what the movie takes for it) running through it. The movie's more a police procedural than a horror movie, with Albert Finney as a cop investigating a series of gruesome, animalistic murders. The evidence increasingly suggests wolves, although Finney suspects something deeper is going on, and pesters some of the local native americans about it. It's not a bad movie; indeed, thanks to James Horner's score*, it's occasionally a thrilling one. But there's something about the solidity of its craft and the earnestness of its aims that makes it more banal than its two cheekier, self-aware cousins. It risks nothing unusual. It's very much a movie we've all seen, a slick, blockbuster horror film that tries not to call too much attention to itself nor put off the viewer with too much supernaturalism. It takes refuge within a familiar realism and within a familiar non-horror genre with a comfortable layer of horror running underneath to spice things up, and a play at real themes to give it a touch of importance. Good, but perfectly forgettable. It has nothing on American Werewolf, easily my favourite of the three.

*Has there ever been a major film composer more willing to cannibalize his own work than Horner? He got a lot of mileage out of his pounding score for Wolfen. I heard themes from at least Star Trek II, III, and Aliens. He also repurposed his 48 Hours score in both Commando and Red Heat. I'm not complaining as they are all excellent scores, but it's shocking how blatant it is.

[bamwc2]

Viewing Log:

Federico Fellini's Intervista (Federico Fellini, 1987): Federico Fellini plays a caricature of himself (as do his muses Anita Ekberg and Marcello Mastroianni) in this...well...um...Felliniesque look at the director as he prepares to make a new movie based on Franz Kafka's Amerika. A Japanese film crew travels to Rome's Cinecitta movie studios in an effort to interview the director. What follows is essentially a fictionalized greatest hits reel as we learn the (likely false) origins of some of the maestro's most famous scenes from his days as a young director living under fascism to the international fame garnered by Ekberg's ountain dance in La Dulce Vita. Like most things that Fellini touched over his career, this film is an unmitigated mess, but a generally fun one at that. There's no deep message here, just a sweet candy filling that tastes good enough for a recommendation.

Full Moon High (Larry Cohen, 1981): Alan Arkin stars as Tony, the lead of an eclectic cast that also includes Ed McMahon, TGIF staple Bill Kirchenbauer, Jim J. Bullock, Elizabeth Hartman, Alan Arkin, Pat Morita, and Bob Sagat in a blink and you'll miss it big screen debut. Tony's father Col. William P. Walker (McMahon) takes Tony with him on a mission to stick it to the Romanian commies in the late 50s. While there Tony gets bitten by a werewolf and recieves eternal youth at the cost of becoming a werewolf himself every full moon (which is pretty much every scene in the film). After his father dies in a bizarre fallout shelter accident, Tony quits school and moves to New York. Twenty years later (about ten seconds in the movie) he returns to find his best friend Flynn (Kirchenbauer) has become a police detective and had a son with Jane (Roz Kelly) his old flame. Pretending to be his own son, Tony re-enrolls in his old high school only to find that it has gone to pot with violent gangs controlling it. As a diehard fan of most of Cohen's 70s output, I really was looking forward to this one. I was highly disappointed. I can say without a trace of hyperbole that there's not a single funny joke in here, with almost all of them coming in the form of lazy one liners that have no wit or imagination behind them. Worse still, the film is full of awful homophobic humor from beginning to end with an effeminate coach who is the punchline of many jokes about him trying to molest his male students. This may well be the worst film that I've watched for the project so far.

It's Alive III: Island of the Alive (Larry Cohen, 1987): Although I thought that It's Alive and its immediate sequel were Cohen's weakest entries in his 70s catalog, I still decided to give this third part of his trilogy a try. Here we find Michael Moriarty stepping into the lead role, vacated after John P. Ryan's doting father of killer mutant infants was himself killed off by the abominations at the end of the second film. Moriarty plays essentially the same character. His Jarvis is an out of work commercial actor who achieves the fame that he's always desired by being the father of one of these killer babies, birthed in this case by his ex-wife Ellen (Karen Black). Jarvis's misplaced paternal love leads to a judge denying the federal government's wish to exterminate these babies on the spot, and instead ruling that they should be abandoned to live their lives on a deserted Caribbean island. Flash forward five years, and we find Jarvis contacted to lead an expeditionary force to try and establish contact with the orphaned children. Bad move? Of course, but it wouldn't have been much of a movie without it. We learn more about these children than we did in the previous two installments, but that doesn't mean much ultimately as whatever explanation we get for their existence is going to be nonsense anyway. Although this is the best of the trilogy, that's like saying that my last kidney stone was the best that I've passed. It still hurt like hell and cut my urethra to ribbons. Oh, and so did the kidney stone. I'm now officially out of love with Cohen. After the mediocre Q, dreadful Full Moon High, and this mess, I no longer have any expectations for finding something worthwhile in his 80s output.

Midnight Run (Martin Brest, 1988): Jack Walsh (Robert De Niro) is a washed up ex-Chicago police officer who barely scrapes by as a LA bounty hunter. When his boss Eddie (Joe Pantoliano) offers him a $100,000 bounty on a skipped bond Jack eagerly takes the deal, which he sees as his ticket out of the business. His target is Jonathan Mardukas (Charles Grodin), an accountant who has absconded with the money of Chicago mobster Jimmy Serrano (Dennis Farina), the same mobster who got Jack fired years ago. The mob, the FBI, and a rival bounty hunter all want Mardukas as well, leading to a numerous wacky encounters as the Jack tries to get Mardukas across country before his bail expires. I can't say why exactly, but the film worked well for me. Looking at the elements on paper, I wouldn't have expected it to translate into fun comedy, decent action, and semi-moving back story for Jack. If pressed, I'd say that Grodin holds the picture together with his hilarious deadpan deliveries as a consummate conman who's constantly two steps ahead of Jack even when he's in the handcuffs. I should also say that after this and Manhunter, Dennis Farina has really grown on me as an actor. As a self-loathing Chicago native, I could never stand his accent watching him in the past, but he's really stood out in a number of recent (to me at least) roles. It's a real shame that we'll never have anything new from him again.

Silip (Elwood Perez, 1985): Silip begins with one of our story's villains--the violent Simon (Mark Joseph)--brutally slaughtering a child's cow in front of him and the community's other children. As he does so, Simon lectures them on their new responsibilities as adults when the camera cuts to one of them--a young girl named Pia (Pia Zabale)--who has menstrual blood running down her leg. We then cut to the sexually repressed Tonya (Former Miss Philippines, Maria Isabel Lopez) who also is menstruating, but trying to wash the blood away. Symbolism! Tonya is a virgin in her early twenties who hopes to become a nun, but spends her days looking after her small beach village's children. She dispenses sage like advice to girls like warning them of the devil's horn that men possess between their legs. Despite her purity, Tonya still finds time to spend the majority of her scenes fully nude, as does her childhood friend Selda (Sarsi Emmanuelle) who returns to visit the village with her white American fiance after spending the last few years abroad. Eventually he leaves the picture after a misunderstanding with Selda exposed him to be a rather sexist asshole, leading Selda to convince Tonya to explore her sexuality with rather gruesome and tragic consequences. This movie is balls out crazy. I say that not because of the numerous scrotums visible on screen, but rather because it was a tonally bizarre trip through every violent and sexual occurrence that you can imagine. Very strange, but fun in a crazy grindhouse sort of way. I watched this one because of its 'also ran' status in the horror genre project. I have no clue why anyone would consider this to be a horror film other than a few murders that take place in the penultimate scenes. I should also say that after watching the Mondo Macabro trailer reel on disc two I must now buy everything that they've ever released.