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colinr0380 wrote:Tommaso, it sounds like you might like this sketch on 'pretentious French cinema which seems pretty heavily modelled on the 'cinema du look' and Diva in general!

Yes, that one's funny! Nevertheless I'll check out "Subway" and "The Moon is in the Gutter" in the coming months, too.

Swo, I see it as an opportunity to highlight less well known films on my list that may not get the attention that they deserve otherwise. If my top ten is going to be composed of films like Shoah and Blue Velvet that already have the sort of reputations that will place them high on the final list, then why shouldn't I spotlight a title that might not get another vote without my influence? Perhaps its not the best use of a spotlight, but it's how I choose to use mine.

For what it's worth, I have only the faintest idea how the films will rank of ahead of time and try to not even make a list until a week or two before the deadline.

I'm in no position to judge how much someone really likes a film that they choose to spotlight (and I look forward to seeing both of the ones that you chose). Obviously, "less well known" is another important criterion. I don't know how seriously everyone takes the spotlight selections (I personally watch every one of them that's available to me) but it seems conceivable that someone could tire of a certain person's recommendations and eventually stop watching them. It would be a shame if someone decided that your tastes just weren't compatible over a film that you're not over the moon about. Also, if you plan to watch dozens/hundreds of new films over the course of the project, it might be a good idea to wait and see if any of them would be more worthy of your acclaim.

Again, I'm not singling anyone out, and I'm not imposing any strict rules on what can and cannot be a spotlight title, or when people can propose them. This is all just food for thought.

After two months of illness and extended work hours wiped out my viewing schedule, I'm finally getting back in the groove of my Shaw project. With that said, I'm keeping the Hong Kong love going, as I hope to do several domino-style write-ups on Hong Kong cinema of the 1980s. Nothing as extensive as my Shaw project; just a handful of recommended films (5-9 is what I'm aiming per write-up) in various genres, cycles, actors or directors filmography, or whatever grouping strikes my fancy. I might be a month or two before I can start that but as a primer, my first spotlight title of the project.

I'll keep it sweetly vague and spoiler-free, so please, read on: I'll get deeper into it if people bite and discuss it.

Spotlight: Long Arm of the Law (Johnny Mak, 1984)
A true example of a lost masterpiece, the shadow Mak's landmark crime film cast over the Hong Kong cinema that followed is only matched by its absolute anonymity in the West. It was one of the defining films of its era, crystallizing the elements of the grungy New Wave crime thriller into a blockbuster success. It's often credited with launching the Heroic Bloodshed genre, two years before John Woo's A Better Tomorrow. So big is its esteem that when the Hong Kong Film Awards made its list of the 100 greatest Chinese films - the same list that brought #1 Spring in a Small Town to everyone's attention - it ranked only a few spots behind at #6. Yet, outside of perhaps the Chinatown circuit, I can find no evidence of any theatrical or video distribution in America. Nor despite my best efforts have I seen any trail of it in any of the major film festivals during the '80s and '90s HK boom. In fact, the closest thing to a premiere (in the English-speaking world) I can find were festival screenings last year in Canada and Australia. Certainly the time is ripe for rediscovery.

A former Red Army commander-turned-Hong Kong career criminal (Lam Wai) plans a jewel heist in Hong Kong. To pull it off he'll need partners. Enter a group of five Mainland Chinese, childhood friends and former Red Guard, eager to make money across the border amidst the opening of China. Per usual for the genre, things do not go as plan. What follows is a grim and violent crime odyssey, from the heavily-guarded Mainland/HK border, to the labyrinthine slums of Kowloon, the epicenter of Hong Kong crime. It starts off unassuming, but the film moves like a fireball rolling down a hill: at every roll, it gets more destructive, more fiery, more out of control... and when it crashes down, you know it's going to leave nothing but scorched earth. Johnny Mak was a producer who, like so many of his peers, made his name in television, with some of his biggest successes being documentary-style true-crime anthologies. He brings some of that same aesthetic to his approach to genre. His cast is made up largely of unknowns, with the biggest name being a former minor Shaw actor. His direction is sparse, unadorned, but unbelievably tense. He takes his cameras into the more blighted corners of the city, employs diegetic but brash lighting sources, and even makes use of quite a few hidden cameras in street scenes (including, it seems, stolen footage inside the Mainland!). Unlike most films of the era, it has a consistent tone of single-minded intensity, and the few comic interludes are largely organic to the story.* While he remained a producer, including on the film's thematic "sequels", this would be his only directorial credit. It surely must make the list of the greatest one-offs of all time.

While it's called the first Heroic Bloodshed film, it's more accurately the last of the great New Wave thrillers. Woo's carefully-choreographed violence and macho melodrama is not to be found. This is wild, brutal, ammoral, uncompromising, harking back to the wild new freedom many filmmakers found in the late '70s, early '80s. If Mak codified a genre, it was mostly that his film was so meticulously put-together that people decided to build on it as if it were a framework. Yet, in doing so, many compromised what made Mak's film so singular. The focus on brotherhood and loyalty, so crucial to post-Woo cinema, is only here ambiguously: money and survival are the main law of this cinema, and camaraderie only functions as a recourse to either. New Wave filmmakers may have worked in a genre framework, but the crime thriller was one of the few avenues which allowed to them to openly explore Hong Kong poverty and city life. Likewise, Mak's film is dripping with sociopolitical significance, dealing squarely with the tensions between Hong Kong and Mainland China.

By the early '80s, the PRC made it clear it had every attention of reclaiming the colony, even threatening military invasion. Much of the early '80s were spent in negotiation between the two governments. In an era where Hong Kong should have been celebrating its unprecedented economic success, it instead lived under the unease of an uncertain future - the "Handover Blues" which categorized so much cinema in the era. There was also a flipside to this: as the Cultural Revolution ended and the people's faith in Communism was shaken, many Mainland Chinese raced to share in the new emerging capitalism. For many Mainlanders, their hopes were pinned on the tiny island across the border. Hong Kong experienced a new influx of Mainland immigrants, many of whom turned to crime to survive as they realized the Hong Kong dream wasn't all it was sold as. It is this atmosphere of economic confusion and national unease that informs Mak's film. His Mainlanders have seemed to abandon all semblance of Communism, and it's shocking how casual they approach the affair. They openly discuss the robbery with family members about. Despite the border and economic system that separates them, they know all the Hong Kong department stores and advertisement jingles. When one of the thieves reunites with a childhood flame, only to discover she's a prostitute, he doesn't blink an eye. And despite their seeming amiability, they never flinch in resorting to violence. They all seem to know all too well the necessities of this new economic reality. Certainly, there's no irony lost in the transformation of Red Guard zealot youth into money-hungry criminals. There's a clear trace of allegory here: in their hit-and-run plan, to dash into Hong Kong and return wealthy, they embody much of the aspirations of the new Mainland society. In the absolute failure of their best-laid plans, they also embody the harsher reality most Mainlanders found on crossing the border.

This experience culminates in the film's bravura final reel, set in Kowloon Walled City. It's a neighborhood which retained a prominent presence in '80s Hong Kong cinema, and which I've found endlessly fascinating to this day. Once a military fort separating the Mainland from Hong Kong Island, it played a fascinating part in modern Hong Kong. A tenement slum that grew unchecked both horizontally and vertically, it became a concentrated city in a massive block, a cyber-punk dystopia without the technological accoutrements. Inside, it was part Casbah, part Rio favela and part Chicago's Cabrini-Green, the headquarter of the Triads and center of Hong Kong vice, yes, but also a working-class neighborhood. For years Hong Kong authorities refused to acknowledge its existence, and after that, they still declared it a no man's land, an unpoliced area cops didn't enter without a squad. Their final solution was to raze it to the ground, which they did in 1993.

It also brings the film's sociopolitical implications to the fore with a vengeance. Kowloon Walled City emerged precisely from the Mainland refugees who fled the Communist government at the end of WWII. The source of Hong Kong's unexpected population boom, Kowloon housed those who were left behind or kept out. Here, a new wave of immigrants find themselves trapped on the same stage, history coming full circle. Here, the last vestiges of brotherhood start to fade away in the face of pure survival. Likewise, with it inability to be tamed, Kowloon was a symbol of resistance of the Chinese against its colonizers. What better place for the final showdown between cops and criminals, the gang of Mainland immigrants clearly contrasted against the multicultural police force? The police are clearly aligned with the colony government, and as one officer makes it clear in the beginning: a regular (Chinese) murder may be forgotten, but kill a (Royal Hong Kong) cop, and the police will spare nothing in the manhunt. As the firefight wages, the cops seems less concerned with justice than pure blood vendetta. This isn't just a war between cop and criminal, or two nationalities, but an exploration of the tensions between the Hong Kong working-class and the Colonial forces that governed - and sometimes abandoned - them. In its winding, shifting corridors, the distinction between friend and foe, cop and criminal, even Hong Kong and Chinese identity, similarly blur. This isn't Woo's aestheticized violence; this is a desperate, gasping grab for survival against unlikely odds. It's also one of the great moments of Hong Kong cinema, and a haunting conclusion to one of its greatest films. Yet the tensions would remain: just a few months after this film's release, Britain announced its treaty with China and the plans for the '97 handover, an event seen by most Hong Kong citizens as a backroom betrayal. More so than its contribution to genre, Long Arms of the Law provided an urgent exploration of the "Handover Blues" that would haunt Hong Kong cinema - and life - for the next 13 years.

[* The only scene that breaks with this consistency of tone, and one I feel obliged to spoil, is a scene late in the film that can only be described as a scene of sexual violence played for laughs. What's most disconcerting is that the scene is played straight, as a terrible event, until the last few seconds where it shifts gears. I guess you could strain to read some irony in its presentation, but sadly, I think it just has to do with HK's very un-PC type of humor brushing up against its propensity for wild shifts in tone.. That's bad enough, but it could have so easily have been cut, contributed almost nothing, and it does for a moment almost derail the film. Please, though, soldier on... the film gets better, and always, it's a flaw that highlights everything else the film gets right.]

IN SHORT: Long Arm of the Law is a crime masterpiece, blending Hong Kong's singular talent for action cinema with an unusual intensity and rawness, bolstered by an uncompromising sociopolitical exploration of Mainland/Hong Kong tensions. Far from the romantic acrobatics of John Woo, this is grim and urgent stuff, a study of desperate men in a desperate situation, much closer to the American crime cinema of Michael Mann or William Friedkin. In my opinion, it deserves to be mentioned alongside their finest.

AVAILABILITY: There is a Fortune Star Blu-Ray. Unfortunately, the trend of that label is upscaled transfers. However, if it makes you feel any better, the DVD is long out-of-print, so you can just pretend you're buying one of those. There's a French release, sans subs.

swo17 wrote:The following films may be cited as 1980s releases in some places, but not on IMDb, and so are not eligible for this list: Warsaw Bridge

IMDB actually has Warsaw Bridge as 1989; presumably a recent change?

Yes, by me. So it's officially eligible as an '80s film now.

bamwc2 wrote:Chameleon Street (Wendell B. Harris, Jr., 1989): Though hardly the unheralded masterpiece it once was (it's been rediscovered of late, including a Film Comment write up a few months back), it's stature is nowhere near what it deserves. Writer/director/star Wendell B. Harris, Jr. willed this film into existence through self-financing outside of the Hollywood circuit at a time when mainstream America hadn't heard of "independent films". The film chronicles the true life story of William Douglas Street, Jr., a bored high school dropout who drifts from one identity to another (and in and out of trouble with the law) as he successfully passes for a OBGYN surgeon, a lawyer, graduate student, and other positions. This wry comic masterpiece was a high water mark for both 80s independent and African American cinema, and deserves a much wider audience than it has today.

Seconded on all counts. I hope everyone will seek out this spotlight title, which I've long thought was a totally unique film and one of the overlooked gems of the old Home Vision Entertainment catalog.* It was treated disgracefully even after winning the Grand Jury Prize at Sundance. Studios at the time thought they could make money from a remake and withheld a distribution deal. It could have been so much more popular and well known if that hadn't happened, and Harris could have had a vastly different career, but as you say it was a totally different time for "independent films" then, and films like this got banished to an "arthouse" ghetto in which their lack of commercial viability was a self-fulfilling prophecy. Harris wasn't famous and didn't fit the studios' profile of a breakout star, so why take any risk on distributing it? It didn't even come out on DVD until 2007, and while it was a great release (a full-fledged special edition with a good transfer) it would have been a lot better for the film's status if Criterion had taken it on.

*Another ’80s one was Zappa (Bille August, 1983, included as a 2-fer with Twist and Shout), which I tried to spotlight in the last 1980s round (they were called "swapsies" then and worked a little differently), but I was still the only one to vote for it. I've considered spotlighting it this time.

Of course, before he went full-tilt, this was one of the films Armond White was notorious for championing (back when people at least considered his viewpoints as coming from a rational, non-contrarian place)

I just read a great interview with Harris and should correct something I said above. It's not that the studios didn't want to take a risk on distributing Chameleon Street; various parties were going after the remake rights so that they could change the film and cast a star as Street, and no one had any plans to distribute Harris's film. Will Smith wanted it, and there were also plans at various times to make it as more of an action film with Wesley Snipes, or rewrite Street as more of a "goofball" and put Sinbad in it. Dear god.

I'm glad to see the love for the film. Hopefully enough will see it (and vote for it!) this time around for it to chart.

swo17 wrote:Yes, by me. So it's officially eligible as an '80s film now.

In principle I support the change (that being the production year), but is there any evidence that it actually screened in 1989?

All I know is that the Portabella set cites it as a 1989 film. That was the basis for the change.

Cold Bishop wrote: Far from the romantic acrobatics of John Woo, this is grim and urgent stuff, a study of desperate men in a desperate situation, much closer to the American crime cinema of Michael Mann or William Friedkin. In my opinion, it deserves to be mentioned alongside their finest.

Sounds promising; pity about the lack of availability

It's actually available for $12.80 + roughly $5 shipping at Buyoyo. I've had some experience with them in that past and, while a little slow, they were reliable. Cheaper than Yesasia.

EDIT: And it's even less at DDD House - $14.11 including shipping - which I've never used but is popular at the KungFuCinema forums.

EDIT: a bluray.com user comments makes it out to be a genuine HD transfer, even if its not a knock-out, so potentially good news for anyone who takes me up on the title.

I'm one of the 'primitives' that hasn't yet joined the Blu-Ray 'club'!
...."so many unwatched DVDs,..."

the Great Mouse Detective (Ron Clements / Burny Mattinson / Dave Michener / John Musker 1986) While the Little Mermaid is likely the only Disney film from the decade to get my vote (and it's well deserved), I greatly enjoyed this film, which held up marvelously to my memories of it from childhood. Part of the charm of this animated reinvention of the Sherlock stories is how succinctly imagined it is-- in an era of bloat, how refreshing to see something with no fat that purrs along as smoothly as this. The film has clever and entertaining set-pieces utilizing the small scale repurposing of landmarks and everyday objects, and the finale set on Big Ben is twice as creative as it would be otherwise for being able to dwarf our furry characters within the monstrous gears and levers. While it's true that the Disney Renaissance was necessary due to the dregs of Disney's 80s output, this film alone argues against that perceived need.

To Live and Die in LA (William Friedkin 1985) I seem to recall reading a lot of re-evaluative praise for this film here (though it's an impossible film to search for!), but I can't imagine why. I went in expecting to at least be entertained and the film couldn't even deliver that. This is one of the most cliched, thunderingly stupid action movies I've ever seen, filled to the brim with predictable machinations and a nihilistic finish that's lost any kick it once had from sustained exposure to dozens of films who did the same thing better in the interim. This is a movie that opens with a middle eastern man revealing dynamite strapped to his chest and loudly declaring upon being discovered, "I want to be a martyr!"-- and about five minutes later we literally get a "Three days til retirement" scene. And so on. But, if you ever wanted to see William Petersen and Ira from Mad About You as dirtbag secret service members, clearly this is the film for you. One of the worst movies I've seen since being released from the cold, dead grip of the Alt Best Picture List.

Wall Street (Oliver Stone 1987) I guess what's most interesting about finally seeing this film after so many years of being aware of the legendary Gordon Gekko is how workman-like Michael Douglas' performance is-- and I say this as a fan of his work. While I like the rare occasions when the Academy actually bothers to give a lead Oscar to a film's villain, this seems like a part anyone could have played and done about as much with. At least he's not miscast like Charlie Sheen, who's way too green and naif-ish to pull off being the Wall Street wolf the last act requires (I kept thinking some of his co-stars would have done a better job-- James Spader or even John C McGinley would have been far more inspired choices). I did admire Martin Sheen's supporting perf as the principled Union rep who goes against everything the film and the 80s at-large advocated. One final thought: Bruce McCulloch must be a fan of this movie, as several Kids in the Hall sketches finally make a little more sense!

Year of the Dragon (Michael Cimino 1985) Well, while I won't be voting for it, I do think Heaven's Gate got a bum rap and there's a lot about the film I admire, but Cimino's follow-up is a flashy but heavily flawed affair. There are a lot of problems with the film, but chief among them is the two leads. Mickey Rourke is at least twenty years too young for his role, and the streaks of grey and middle aged wife are so jarring with the babyfaced Rourke that's it's almost impossible to ignore. But at least he's still Mickey Rourke and has the charm and presence needed to carry a movie. His co-star, in her first and only starring role, is the singularly monikered Ariane, who gives what could charitably be called the worst lead performance of all time. While watching I assumed that she was someone's girlfriend and was brought on board as a condition for funding from an investor, but apparently despite not being particularly attractive she was a fashion model at the time. No surprise that this ended her career in cinema save a couple minor appearances-- they should show clips from her line readings in acting workshops as a Goofus and Gallant example.

domino harvey wrote:
Year of the Dragon (Michael Cimino 1985) Well, while I won't be voting for it, I do think Heaven's Gate got a bum rap and there's a lot about the film I admire, but Cimino's follow-up is a flashy but heavily flawed affair. There are a lot of problems with the film, but chief among them is the two leads. Mickey Rourke is at least twenty years too young for his role, and the streaks of grey and middle aged wife are so jarring with the babyfaced Rourke that's it's almost impossible to ignore. But at least he's still Mickey Rourke and has the charm and presence needed to carry a movie. His co-star, in her first and only starring role, is the singularly monikered Ariane, who gives what could charitably be called the worst lead performance of all time. While watching I assumed that she was someone's girlfriend and was brought on board as a condition for funding from an investor, but apparently despite not being particularly attractive she was a fashion model at the time. No surprise that this ended her career in cinema save a couple minor appearances-- they should show clips from her line readings in acting workshops as a Goofus and Gallant example.

I'll respond to your comments on the Friedkin film later, Dom.

Firstly, this one - which has long been a guilty pleasure of mine since I also saw it on its original cinema release.
Agree wholeheartedly with your comments on Mickey - on his charm, and being too young; and his hair!
And on Ariane, although you're being a tad too harsh: calling her performance the worst ever backs you into a corner and gives you no room for manoeuvre. Mind you, I thought she was stunningly beautiful.

What I love about it - apart from the guilty pleasure aspects of the above:

The dialogue - where it's quickly made clear that American participation in the Vietnam War is responsible for all ills.
(Oliver Stone clearly testing the waters for his Vietnam 'trilogy')
The action set-pieces - many of which John Woo ripped off, for such as 'Hard Boiled' and 'Bullet In The Head';
John Lone's performance: I'm surprised he didn't build on this; although I suppose 'guilt by association' might have been a factor.

As for Heaven's Gate: a mess. Great set-pieces; some stunning cinematography - and beautiful scenery.
But a mess
And I never cared for The Deer Hunter
I think maybe Cimino just doesn't do subtlety

I was kidding when I said it was the worst performance ever-- it is still very, very bad though! I'll give you John Lone, though-- he did do a good job sketching in his character, even if I don't quite buy how the final showdown pans out. Also, what's with this movie and awkward bullet holes? It would be kind of novel coming from amateur shooters, to show how hard it is to hit a clean shot to the forehead or chest like usually get, but all the errant wounds come from supposed professionals!

domino harvey wrote:I was kidding when I said it was the worst performance ever-- it is still very, very bad though! I'll give you John Lone, though-- he did do a good job sketching in his character, even if I don't quite buy how the final showdown pans out. Also, what's with this movie and awkward bullet holes? It would be kind of novel coming from amateur shooters, to show how hard it is to hit a clean shot to the forehead or chest like usually get, but all the errant wounds come from supposed professionals!

That's more like it, with Ariane: she was handicapped from having such a weak and colourless voice.
And having especially weak - frozen, even - facial muscles!

John Woo ripped off that final showdown, also: note for note
And what about that great 'White Powder Ma' scene?. I never saw that coming!

I just wanted to redress the balance somewhat, for the record: fans of Hong Kong action movies should love this one.
Nothing succeeds like excess; and suspending one's disbelief, a tad

domino harvey wrote:
To Live and Die in LA (William Friedkin 1985) I seem to recall reading a lot of re-evaluative praise for this film here (though it's an impossible film to search for!), but I can't imagine why. I went in expecting to at least be entertained and the film couldn't even deliver that. This is one of the most cliched, thunderingly stupid action movies I've ever seen, filled to the brim with predictable machinations and a nihilistic finish that's lost any kick it once had from sustained exposure to dozens of films who did the same thing better in the interim. This is a movie that opens with a middle eastern man revealing dynamite strapped to his chest and loudly declaring upon being discovered, "I want to be a martyr!"-- and about five minutes later we literally get a "Three days til retirement" scene. And so on. But, if you ever wanted to see William Petersen and Ira from Mad About You as dirtbag secret service members, clearly this is the film for you. One of the worst movies I've seen since being released from the cold, dead grip of the Alt Best Picture List.

Perhaps it was only me that was raving about it. I went back to see it at least twice more during its original cinema run.
I later bought the video, and DVD, and Special Edition DVD.

Cliches in films don't bother me, per se - viz. the great film noirs.

Among the things I love about it are:

The flawed 'hero' - and having a sidekick who's so at odds with him;
Willem Dafoe's charismatic bad guy - reminded me of the Great Dan Duryea in its quality;

A wonderful selection of support characters, and actors;
Dean Stockwell, John Turturro, Steve James, Darlanne Fluegel ; to name but four.

A particularly nasty bad guy - Jack Hoar - who was actually a training officer with LAPD at the time
Dafoe's wife's

Spoiler

lesbian love-affair and her pragmatism

Interesting scenes of character inter-action - particularly good dialogue; and unusual situations.
The car-chase
Peterson's relationship with Fluegel - personal and professional
Stockwell's

Spoiler

professional amorality; and pragmatism

I read the book: the author's a former agent.
The film is tougher; and better. The film's ending is much better.

domino harvey wrote:I'll give you John Lone, though-- he did do a good job sketching in his character, even if I don't quite buy how the final showdown pans out.

Talking about John Lone, can I recommend the Fred Schepisi film he was in before this, as the titular iceman in Iceman! You might have the same response to that film!

colinr0380 wrote:

domino harvey wrote:I'll give you John Lone, though-- he did do a good job sketching in his character, even if I don't quite buy how the final showdown pans out.

Talking about John Lone, can I recommend the Fred Schepisi film he was in before this, as the titular iceman in Iceman! You might have the same response to that film!

I've been keeping an eye out for that one, Col, but still haven't managed to see it.

Unfortunately it looks like Universal put out the 'Scope film in a cropped P+S transfer on DVD-- I'll (also) keep an eye out in the future for a copy in the proper aspect ratio though!

The Australian DVD of Iceman is anamorphic 2.35....too bad the Aussie disc of Barbarosa is P&S.

tavernier wrote:The Australian DVD of Iceman is anamorphic 2.35....too bad the Aussie disc of Barbarosa is P&S.

Is Barbarosa available anywhere in a non P&S version?
I'd certainly like to add it to my collection, if so.