2022 - August
Vengeance (2022) 4/4
Surveillance (2008) 3.5/4
The New York Ripper (1982) 3/4
Resurrection (1999) 3/4
Taking Lives (2004) 2.5/4
Joy Ride (2001) 2.5/4
Thunder on the Hill (1951) 2.5/4
Will Any Gentleman (1953) 2/4
A Perfect Getaway (2009) 2/4
Twisted (2004) 2/4
Vacancy (2007) 1.5/4
Knight Moves (1992) 1.5/4
Bloodline (1979) 1/4
The Glass House (2001) 1/4
Rising Sun (1993) 1/4
Surveillance (2008) 3.5/4
The New York Ripper (1982) 3/4
Resurrection (1999) 3/4
Taking Lives (2004) 2.5/4
Joy Ride (2001) 2.5/4
Thunder on the Hill (1951) 2.5/4
Will Any Gentleman (1953) 2/4
A Perfect Getaway (2009) 2/4
Twisted (2004) 2/4
Vacancy (2007) 1.5/4
Knight Moves (1992) 1.5/4
Bloodline (1979) 1/4
The Glass House (2001) 1/4
Rising Sun (1993) 1/4
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- DirectorTerence YoungStarsAudrey HepburnBen GazzaraJames MasonWhen her father is murdered, a pharmaceutical heiress becomes the next target of an unknown killer amid the international jet set.01-08-2022
Sam Roffe, the king of pharmaceuticals, is dead. He was a stubborn yet genius businessman who ruled his family company with an iron fist but now he's gone and his greedy cousins/business partners can breathe a sigh of relief. In a not-so-short montage, we meet the members of the board all of whom are in desperate financial straits. There's Sir Alec (James Mason), a sleazy Tory politician married to a compulsive gambler (Michelle Phillips). There's Helene (Romy Schneider), a promiscuous racer married to an embezzler (Maurice Ronet). And then there's Ivo (Omar Sharif), an Italian lothario who has to support two families and keep his two wives from ever finding out about each other. As they're informed of Roffe's passing they all breathe a sigh of relief but their joy proves to be short-lived.
Roffe is inherited not by them but by his equally strong-willed daughter Elizabeth (Audrey Hepburn) who decides not to sell the company for a quick buck but to try and weather the financial storm. Needless to say, the cousins are displeased but one of them appears to be particularly strapped for cash as it turns out that Roffe's death was no climbing accident and Elizabeth might be next.
"Bloodline", based on a Sidney Sheldon potboiler, is one of the most inept and haphazardly put-together films I've ever seen. I'm not, of course, counting here low-budget films as, I think you'll agree, a film that cost millions of dollars and which stars such acting legends as Audrey Hepburn, James Mason, Omar Shariff, Ben Gazzara, Irene Papas, Romy Schneider, Gert Frobe, and Beatrice Straight shouldn't be measured according to those low standards.
The film was directed by Terence Young, a director who wasn't particularly good even in his heyday but whose final few films proved to be especially awful. These included "Inchon" and "The Jigsaw Man" and "Bloodline" presents us with the same kind of lacklustre filmmaking.
Consider, for instance, the fact that every time someone leaves or arrives they enter and exit exactly the same aeroplane on the same airport shot from exactly the same angle. They could have at least bothered to move the camera.
Consider, for instance, the scene in which Elizabeth finds a book on the Roffe family. A book written in old-timey letters yet in modern American English with old family photos in it which are clearly screenshots from the very flashbacks we'll see in just a few minutes. They could have at least bothered to take separate photos.
Finally, consider what must be the most ineptly edited scene in the history of movies. Elizabeth and her secretary Kate (Beatrice Straight) are on the way to a party. CUT. Kate calls the elevator. CUT. Elizabeth touches her ear. CUT. Suddenly, out of nowhere, we hear people screaming and a shot of lights going off. CUT. Elizabeth is sitting alone in her room crying. What happened? Apparently, Elizabeth had forgotten her earrings and went back to get them. Meanwhile, Kate got into the elevator which had been sabotaged and she died. They could have at least completed the shooting of the scene. It would have saved them having to have Audrey Hepburn explain what happened in a bloody voice-over.
This kind of ineptness is evident in all aspects of the film. Ennio Morricone seems to have composed only one piece for the movie as it plays again and again over all the many montages of stock footage and scenes of actors cluelessly barraging through pages of exposition. Even legendary DP Freddie Young embarrassed himself here by overlighting every scene in a monotone flat. As a result, the film is lit like a supermarket and every set looks dingy and flimsy. The less said about Bud Molin's editing the better. Scenes begin and end without any rhythm or logic. Sometimes we even cut away in the middle of an actor's sentence!
The venerable cast seems uniformly bored. Ben Gazzara, in particular, speaks all of his lines in a gravelly monotone without displaying a single emotion. Meanwhile, the 50-year-old Audrey Hepburn is woefully miscast as the ingenue. Everyone treats her like an inexperienced little girl even though she's older than half the cast. Not that she's given much to act anyway. Her character is flat and lifeless and her dialogue (like everyone else's) is clumsy and unwieldy.
In what is one of the most misogynistic subplots I've seen this side of WWII, Elizabeth doesn't want to sell her father's company but being a woman, of course, she can't run it on her own. She should be, as one character puts it, "on a lovely yacht with a lovely man". So she arranges a fake marriage with her father's right-hand man Rhys (Ben Gazzara) so that he can take care of business for her while she... does something. The script never bothers to tell us. What nonsense!
But if you want to see REALLY awful acting just watch the film's misguided and utterly pointless flashback in which a pair of actors who seem like they've never spoken out loud in their life let alone stood before a camera try to pretend they're in 1900s Poland.
"Bloodline's" greatest sin, however, is that it is horrendously boring. For 2 hours, we watch characters as they snipe at each other, plot against each other, and stand around in the most 1970s sets you can imagine. The story, meanwhile, never seems to progress. The script by Laird Koenig meanders, plods, and generally waffles about but there is no discernable pace, no momentum, no urgency. The film just lingers in the air like the omnipresent cigarette smoke polluting the atmosphere.
I wonder why Sidney Sheldon's books turn into such rotten pictures. Perhaps because the filmmakers approach them without a sense of humour or more likely because they were all made as quick cash grabs. The artificiality and soap-operatic melodrama of television proved a much better fit for Sheldon. Even for his die-hard fans, however, "Bloodline" is an impossibly tough sit as it is a boring, languorous, and ineptly made excuse for a film.
1/4 - DirectorDouglas SirkStarsClaudette ColbertAnn BlythRobert DouglasConvicted murderess Valerie Carns (Ann Blyth) is being transported to Norwich to be executed when a flood strands her and her guards at a convent hospital. Nurse Sister Mary (Claudette Colbert) becomes convinced of her innocence and sets out to find the real killer.01-08-2022
It is unusual seeing Douglas Sirk direct as classic a whodunnit as "Thunder on the Hill". He had previously directed a pair of well-respected film noirs but here is the king of melodrama undertaking an Agatha Christe-type story about a nosey nun looking for a murderer in a monastery on a dark and stormy night.
But don't be fooled, Sirk infuses the movie with a real flourish for melodrama. This is especially evident in the performances. There's plenty of clutching at walls, doubling over in tears, and general hysterics. Every line is proclaimed loudly and with proper enunciation as emotions run wilder than the floods which are keeping all the suspects locked in the monastery.
Also deeply melodramatic is Sirk's insistence on focusing less on the mystery aspects of the story and more on the subplot involving the woman accused of the murder and sentenced to death reuniting with the love of her life. She is played by Ann Blyth in a particularly highly charged performance. Still, if you can see past her grand theatricality it is a nuanced and emotional portrayal of a woman learning just how much she has left to live for on what is possibly the last night before she dies.
Claudette Colbert plays the nun/amateur sleuth. I'm not entirely sure Ms Colbert makes for a convincing nun with her heavily made-up face and the angelic way in which she is photographed but it is a solid leading turn. The nun is given a bit more depth than your run-of-the-mill amateur detective by making her suffer from guilt for the suicide of her sister. This is what drives her to try to help the poor convicted woman clear her name.
The film is based on a play by Charlotte Hastings which I'm not familiar with but if this adaptation is anything to go by it is not a particularly engrossing detective story. In fact, we don't really get any significant clues until the film's third act. The screenplay is by Oscar Saul and Andrew Solt and it doesn't seem to give many creeds to realism. Not only is the woman convicted of murder being transported in a private car wearing a stunning suit, but she's also then allowed the free reign of the monastery without so much as handcuffs as she cavorts with her lover.
Consequently, "Thunder on the Hill" is a rather creaky picture. It also feels decidedly old-fashioned for 1951 with its theatrical performances, overwrought hysterics, and threadbare plot. However, it is undoubtedly a handsomely produced movie. Sirk's famous visual stylishness does not abandon him here and the film is full of a wonderfully mysterious atmosphere permeating its shadowy monastery sets. Hans J. Salter's thunderous score is also notable in what is a lesser Sirk but still an enjoyable one.
2.5/4 - DirectorMichael AndersonStarsGeorge ColeVeronica HurstHeather ThatcherAfter a mix-up at a music hall, a henpecked bank clerk who lives a dreary existence in suburban London finds himself onstage with ambiguously foreign magician Mendoza, who hypnotizes him into losing all of his inhibitions.01-08-2022
I am a "Doctor Who" fan and that is the primary reason why I watched "Will Any Gentleman", a middle-brow British comedy from the 50s which otherwise would hardly register on my radar. Namely, it has the rare distinction of co-starring Jon Pertwee and William Hartnell or the first and third Doctor respectively and although they only share a few minutes of on-screen time it was great fun seeing them play off each other.
The film itself is not much to write home about. A twee little farce which showcases plays on some rather old gags and features a thin plot which is nothing more than an excuse for a good old-fashioned comedic runaround.
George Cole is the star of the movie playing Henry Sterling, a shy and put-upon bank manager who one evening, quite accidentally, becomes a volunteer at a magic show. While on stage, he is hypnotised by the sleazy Great Mendoza (Alan Badel) causing him to lose all of his inhibitions and turn into a freewheeling lothario with a penchant for pinching girls' bottoms and an appetite for other people's money.
Jon Pertwee is the second lead and ends up stealing the whole picture as Henry's con-artist brother who for the first time in his life has to be the responsible sibling. Much like Walter Matthau in "The Fortune Cookie", Pertwee's performance as the opportunistic, money-grubbing petty con artist is much more compelling and funny than that of the nicey-nice leads.
Henry's newfound rambunctiousness gets him into all sorts of trouble the worst of which begins when he steals money from his bank. Enter William Hartnell in a small but nicely played part of the comically stern police inspector on the trail of the brothers.
Some of the trouble Henry gets into would certainly get the filmmakers into trouble these days. There is a distinctly rapey vibe about some of Henry's exploits especially the ones involving his maid whom he is unable to lay eyes onto without sexually assaulting.
Even though this is the first time I've watched it, "Will Any Gentleman" feels extremely familiar. I've seen these gags before in countless other movies and less ambitious TV shows across the years. It is a movie that definitely plays it safe, never subverting expectations or its fairly repetitious formula.
Still, occasionally it is quite funny. Especially good is the climactic chase scene in which Cole and Pertwee are chased through a music hall theatre by Hartnell and Badel. The two Doctors certainly had the chops for slapstick! Also enjoyable are some of the fast-paced dialogue by Vernon Sylvaine and a rather good comedic performance from the inimitable Joan Sims.
In conclusion, "Will Any Gentleman" is a decent if unchallenging flick to keep you occupied if it ever pops up on TV but only hardcore "Doctor Who" fans should bother to explicitly seek it out.
2/4 - DirectorB.J. NovakStarsB.J. NovakBoyd HolbrookLio TiptonA writer from New York City attempts to solve the murder of a girl he hooked up with and travels down south to investigate the circumstances of her death and discover what happened to her.26-08-2022
"Vengeance" may look all sleek and approachable with its goofy trailer and mystery plot but it is at heart very much an indie movie - the kind of sharp, quietly disturbing satire on conceited modern Americans that were very hip and beloved by festival audiences in the days of Joe Swanberg and Sophia Takal. As I loved those movies, in particular, Ms Takal's "Green" and "Always Shine", I took to "Vengeance" like a Texan to Whataburger.
Our conceited modern man is Ben (B.J. Novak), a New York Jewish intellectual with a fancy Brooklyn apartment and a prestigious job at the New Yorker. But his ambitions, as with many Americans, far outweigh his reach and he dreams of being more than a writer - he wants to be a voice, a presence, a podcaster. In the olden days of Norman Mailer and Truman Capote everyone dreamed of writing "the great American novel", nowadays it's the great American podcast and after years of searching, the perfect story simply lands in Ben's lap.
After a typical night spent in bed with yet another anonymous woman, Ben is awoken by a phone call. A distressed, teary voice on the other end says that "this is the worst phone call you're ever gonna get in your life". The bombastic announcement is that Ben's girlfriend is dead. She overdosed in the small town she was born somewhere deep in the Texas heartland. Except, Ben doesn't have a girlfriend. He has many random hookups, women memorised on his phone under such nicknames as "Equinox Girl Cute" and "Natalie Bumble" but no girlfriend.
Turns out, that the dead girl is one Abiline Shaw (Lio Tipton) known to Ben as "Abby Texas". In a bid to make her lonely New York life seem more glamorous to her family she told them Ben was her loving boyfriend when in fact he was nothing more than a random hookup.
Unable to explain the ways of the modern man to her grieving family, the nervous Ben accepts to play the part of the loving boyfriend and attend Abby's funeral. However, things take a sharp turn after her brother Ty (Boyd Holbrook) tells Ben the real reason he wants him in Texas. You see, Abby didn't use drugs, Ty is sure that she was murdered and he is determined to get vengeance on the person who killed her. Will Ben help him? As soon as he sniffs out a podcast, sure he will.
"Vengeance" starts out as a fish-out-of-water story in which a condescending New Yorker finds himself living with the "simple country folk". Now, there are two ways a story like this tends to go. Either you get a raunchy comedy in which the New Yorker has to endure all kinds of humiliating and cringe-worthy experiences while surrounded by kooks and idiots or the country folk turn out to be wiser than they seem and teach the New Yorker a thing or two about life. "Vengeance", however, doesn't go either way and therein lies its brilliance. It is absolutely never the film you expect it to be.
Writer/director B.J. Novak makes sure we know that Ben expects the Texans to fit one of those cliches. Then he subverts them by simply making the Texans a regular, three-dimensional, human family. They are not stupid yokels nor are they white versions of the old "magical Negro" trope. They are smart people with dreams and aspirations whose wisdom lies in the fact that they don't overcomplicate things like Ben does. They don't spend their days overanalyzing their lives, coming up with theories which excuse their behaviour and put down those of opposing opinions.
One memorable sharply observed moment comes when the pretentious Ben tries to explain the concept of a Chekov's gun to one of Abby's sisters (J. Smith-Cameron). She listens to what he has to say and then calmly points out in her broad Texan accent that no Chekhov play she's ever read has a gun in it. "I'm not actually that familiar with his plays," Ben replies after a beat, "I'm more familiar with his theory".
With his audio recorder and fancy buzzwords, Ben turns out to be the kooky one but Novak doesn't allow him to be a caricature either. As I said, "Vengeance" is never the film you expect it to be.
As far as the mystery itself goes, here too "Vengeance" continually subverts expectations. First, it seems like it will be the propelling force behind the movie. Ty believes his sister was killed by a Mexican drug lord. Then the drug lord turns out to be a love-lorn Harry Potter fan who was at an Adele concert the night she died and the mystery plot all but disappears from the film. OK, I thought to myself, the film will now move away from the thriller trappings and become a deeply-felt satire. That is when "Vengeance" dropped its rather clever twist on me which I won't spoil.
"Vengeance" is B.J. Novak's feature film debut but it is written and directed with sublime confidence. It is a film which continually leads you to assume you know where it's going only to then subtly yet firmly prove you wrong. Much like its main character, you come into it thinking you're the savvy one, aware of all the theories and tropes. You're not. At least, I wasn't. What is for sure, however, is that it's a smart, emotional, and very, very funny film with an intelligence that far surpasses any faults it might have.
4/4 - DirectorDavid TwohyStarsMilla JovovichSteve ZahnTimothy OlyphantTwo pairs of lovers on a Hawaiian vacation discover that psychopaths are stalking and murdering tourists on the islands.26-08-2022
The term Hitchcockian gets thrown around quite freely as an adjective for thrillers people like but don't quite know how to describe. It is ultimately meaningless as most films described as Hitchcockian are films Hitchcock would have never made. Case in point, "A Perfect Getaway". I suppose in a broad sense the premise could be described as Hitchcockian. Like some of the master's finest films, it has a simple premise with a limited group of characters in a seemingly mundane situation which quickly turns suspenseful.
The film takes place in Hawaii where three couples are independently taking the same hiking trail. The couples include the boring urbanites Cliff and Cydney (Steve Zahn and Milla Jovovich), the thrill seekers Nick and Gina (Timothy Olyphant and Kiele Sanchez) and the sinister-looking wanderers Kale and Cleo (Chris Hemsworth and Marley Shelton).
Then a news report comes in. A pair of honeymooners have been brutally murdered in nearby Honolulu and the police are seeking a couple whom they suspect of the crime. And wouldn't you know it, each of the three couples was in Honolulu at the time of the murders? Suddenly, the pleasant hike turns into a murder mystery. The couples don't trust one another but put on a friendly facade. Each believes the other are the murderers but whose story doesn't quite check out? Who behaves more weirdly? Who will kill whom?
It is a pretty good premise for a thriller and "A Perfect Getaway" manages several suspense-filled sequences and a thrilling climactic action scene to boot. There are even several funny moments along the way. But the film never quite works. Why? The problem is the characters.
What should have been a character-driven thriller is populated with six thinly-written caricatures. Cliff is the cliched urbanite. Wildly out of place in the harsh nature of Hawaii. Whiny and neurotic. Nick is the stereotype of the obnoxious macho dude with his hunting gear and war stories. Meanwhile, Kale and Cleo are made so sinister, so threatening, that no one who's ever seen a thriller in their life can believe they are the killers. Meanwhile, the two women, Cydney and Gina, are severely underwritten to the point that they have no character besides being attached to their respective partners.
Now, Hitchcock's films can hardly be described as complex character studies but he always had a way to make his leads appealing and interesting. The leads in "A Perfect Getaway" are neither. They are grating, obnoxious, unlikeable, and rather boring in their predictability. The cast is made up of good actors none of whom get a chance to show their charisma.
Hitchock was also rather tough on his screenwriters. He would demand good set-pieces, tight and witty dialogue, and lots of tension. The script by David Twohy is none of those things. It is painfully rambly, quite predictable, and takes far, far too long to get to the good stuff. I would understand the 40-minute or so ramble up to the suspense if that time had been spent on character development. Instead, he spends most of it on lame jokes and establishing shots. The locations look gorgeous, for sure, but they can't make up for a lack of good material.
The dialogue is corny and most scenes seem to go on for far too long. A good example is a scene in which one of the women is being hunted by the killer and tries to call 911 but before she can dial the number someone calls her. She picks up and the person on the other end turns out to be a salesman. Pretty funny. But then the scene goes on needlessly for another two minutes as she tries to convince the salesman to call 911 for her. It goes on and on until it's no longer funny and you're just sitting there waiting for the killer to jump out of the next bush.
This is also one of those twist movies. The kind where every line seems to be hinting at a double meaning. Just like every such movie, however, the big twist is fairly arbitrary. Everything leading up to it is just vague and noncommittal enough that any of the three couples could have been revealed as the killers. The couple Twohy picks is maybe the least interesting choice. I had them pegged from the get-go.
"A Perfect Getaway" ends up being a lacklustre thriller. In fact, I think it would have been a lot more interesting had there been no twist. If we knew who the killers were from the beginning we would have had at least two interesting characters to follow. Instead, most of the film consists of cliched caricatures wandering aimlessly along with the script through the wilds of Hawaii. It's no Hitchcock but maybe you could call it a pale version of "Shoot to Kill" except Poitieresque doesn't quite have the same ring, does it?
2/4 - DirectorJohn DahlStarsSteve ZahnPaul WalkerLeelee SobieskiThree young people on a road trip from Colorado to New Jersey talk to a trucker on their CB radio, then must escape when he turns out to be a psychopathic killer.26-08-2022
CB radios were a great invention. Not only did they allow for lonely truckers on the neverending haul to connect with each other and wile away the hours chatting, they also were a useful tool in conveying such information as roadblocks, traffic jams, and police patrols. And, let's be honest, they seem like a hoot. Who wouldn't be tempted to jump on one of those and loudly proclaim their "handle" in the thickest southern accent they can muster?
But, like every other piece of technology ever invented, horror movies come along and spoil the fun with their doom-laden anxiety-inducing technophobia. I'm kidding, of course, but looking over the horror back catalogue it's hard to think of a single appliance, piece of hardware, or technology which hasn't been used to stalk, maim, or mutilate unsuspecting victims.
Here an ill-considered prank over the CB radio could cost the lives of three teenagers on a cross-country road trip in the dingiest old-timer this side of 1980. They are Lewis (Paul Walker), his troubled jokester brother Fuller (Steve Zahn), and their childhood friend Venna (Leelee Sobieski) who has grown into an attractive lady they both have the hots for. What they have in store is a hell of a road trip.
On the other side of the CB radio is Rusty Nail, a psychotic trucker with the voice of Satan himself. He doesn't appreciate being the butt of a joke to a group of college kids so he does what any self-respecting maniac would. He hunts them down on the empty roads of Wyoming in his huge, black truck which has the tendency of popping up behind our heroes in the same way the shark from "Jaws" tends to jump out of the water.
Of course, the most obvious Spielberg reference is "Duel", one of his finest films and easily the best road-trip thriller of all time. The premise is pretty much identical with one notable upgrade. The trucker in "Joy Ride" has a voice. And what a voice it is! Provided by the reliably excellent Ted Levine, its deep, gravelly tones echo eerily down the crackly airwaves of the CB radio. All slasher movies need a great villain and Ted Levine's performance makes Rusty Nail one of the very best.
The problem, unfortunately, is that the screenplay by J.J. Abrams and Chris Moore has to be one of the silliest slasher scripts ever written. In order to facilitate the story, the characters continually act like complete morons. What do a pair of college pranksters do when their prank works a little too well? They tell the target who they are, of course! What does a psychopathic serial killer do when he catches up with the prey he's been hunting for the past 50 minutes of the film? He lets them go, of course!
And just like in any bad slasher flick, no one ever calls the cops, no one fights back until it's too late, and the villain is omnipotent. He finds out everything about their private lives with the ease that would wow the CIA, he seemingly can teleport unseen in his inconspicuous giant truck, and he can kill just about anyone without being seen, caught, or hurt. With a killer like that who needs the supernatural?
But the braindead material is significantly lifted by the likeable and charismatic cast and the deft direction of John Dahl who gives the film a highly appreciated sheen of nostalgia. There are no cell phones in this universe, all the cars are old-timers and every detail of the production design, the music, and the direction is old-fashioned. At times, in shots where long headlights throw light on the black tarmac, the film appears to be in black-and-white.
Moving away from the Spielberg references, I was continually reminded of the first third of Hitchcock's "Psycho" in which Marion frantically drives with her bag of stolen money. "Joy Ride" occasionally achieves the same kind of nervous energy and those scenes are its best. When you can forget the dumb story and simply enjoy the thick suspense this film is undeniably entertaining.
2.5/4 - DirectorNimród AntalStarsKate BeckinsaleLuke WilsonFrank WhaleyStranded in an isolated motel, a couple become the unsuspecting subjects of a snuff film.26-08-2022
Creepy motels have been the staple of the horror genre ever since Marion Crane decided to rest her weary head at The Bates Motel. Hitchcock had the good sense, as he usually does, to introduce the weirdness gradually. At first, Norman seems like a quirky but likeable young man. First, we learn of his love for taxidermy, then we hear about his mother, then we MEET his mother. And only then do we realize that gee, there may be something wrong with young Norman over here.
Later creepy motel movies, however, tend to go for the obviously bizarre. Kooky motel owners have become downright bizarre. The stuffy rooms are now crawling with cockroaches. The mother may as well be advertised on the sign.
Take, for example, "Vacancy", in which the first time we meet the creepy hotel manager he's watching a violent porno film at full volume. What would you do? Would you ring the bell and ask for a room or get the hell out of there and brave the cool night air? I know which one I'd rather pick.
But "Vacancy" is not a particularly smart movie. What it is is simplicity personified. The plot is introduced in the first third and then completely abandoned. Namely, our leads, a bickering married couple on a disastrous road trip (Luke Wilson and Kate Beckinsale), have a car breakdown and decide to stay the night in the creepiest motel this side of "Motel Hell". But before they even take their shoes off, the husband finds a stack of snuff tapes on the VCR and hidden cameras in their honeymoon suite. Somehow, I doubt this establishment is in the Michelin guide.
That's it as far as the plot is concerned. There are no further revelations, twists, or even subtle escalations. In fact, the film is a superb example of how overt simplicity can become a film's main failure. I have extolled its virtues many times over but for such a horror film to work it has to have likeable characters and a constant escalation and variety of threats. "Vacancy" doesn't. From the point the set-up is over, it turns into a breathless runaround in the tiny motel which quickly becomes repetitive and quite dull. There's only so much you can do with two sets after all.
It's a shame because the premise really is quite good as are the film's production values. Directed by Nimrod Antal and lensed by the legendary DP Andrzej Sekula the film is stylish and suitably atmospheric. A lot of that is thanks to some truly great work from production designer Jon Gary Steele whose sets make you crave a shower. Also superb is Paul Haslinger's bombastic score which pumps more excitement into the movie than the rather thin script from Mark L. Smith.
The cast tries, there's no doubt about that, but there's little they can do to make their bitter characters likeable. It doesn't help that Beckinsale and Wilson don't have any discernible chemistry and only really shine when they get to put each other down with sarcastic jibes. On the other hand, Frank Whaley puts in a genuinely creepy performance as "Vacancy's" own Norman Bates. Going off of this performance, I'm certain he would have done a better job than Vince Vaughn in the remake.
But this is no "Psycho" and there's little point in even bringing up the comparison. After 50 minutes of running around the same two sets without any variety, imaginative set pieces or scares, I was bored to tears by "Vacancy", a criticism that could never be levied on Hitchcock.
1.5/4 - DirectorJennifer LynchStarsJulia OrmondBill PullmanPell JamesTwo FBI agents attempt to clarify the murders occurring in a desolate region. They approach the witnesses of the latest incident with the help of the local police. All of them hide something and all have wildly different stories to tell.27-08-2022
I have never seen an actor look more anxious and uncomfortable on screen than Bill Pullman. His back is straight as a board, his shoulders tense, and he tends to always lean just a little bit to the side making him seem like a statue about to topple over. In "Surveillance" he plays an FBI agent sent with his partner (Julia Ormond) to a Midwestern hick town in order to catch a pair of dangerous spree killers. What with the murderers on the loose and the open antagonism towards them from the local police officers he has more than ample reason to be anxious and uncomfortable. But the entire movie resonates on that same frequency. The atmosphere is bizarre, edgy, and stuffy.
The FBI agents interview the only survivors of the spree killer's roadside massacre. They include an aggressive cop (Kent Harper), a drug addict (Pell James), and a child whose whole family was slaughtered (Ryan Simpkins). From here, a lesser movie would have ripped off "Rashomon" and had them tell wildly different stories. However, director/writer Jennifer Lynch is not making that kind of a movie. Despite all the seemingly obvious genre trappings, "Surveillance" is not a thriller. The three witnesses all do lie but the story becomes clear pretty soon. Why did the killers get away? Because everyone is corrupt and everyone is covering their own ass.
Not a terribly original statement but Lynch's movie absolutely revels in the corruption. It dives headfirst into the stink of human garbage and laps up the miasma. It's one of the darkest, most twisted comedies I've ever seen. It's the definition of divisive. Only those who share Lynch's bizarre, absurdist, grotesque sense of humour will laugh. I laughed. All throughout the movie. Uproariously.
I laughed at the two cops who medicate their ennui by shooting at people's tires and then brutally intimidating them. They treat it as a game. "Pick your personality," says one. "I get to pick," the other is excited like a child in a toy store, "OK, then I'll be the good cop".
I also laughed at the fact that the entire massacre occurs simply because no one is willing to listen to the little girl. She tries to tell them she saw the killers on the road up ahead but her parents are too busy bopping to some sexy tunes and the cops dismiss her with that old chestnut - "she's seen too many scary movies."
Here is another scene I laughed at, a perfect example of the kind of movie "Surveillance" is. A pair of drug addicts enter a dingy RV to buy some drugs. The dealer, who looks as if he's never even heard of the concept of showering, is lounging on a couch. He pushes the drugs towards them with his brown foot caked in dirt. Then he starts coughing. Filthy liquid starts coming from his mouth as well as chunks of undigested food. Then he starts gagging before eventually choking on yesterday's lunch. The two drug addicts take a beat then the woman says: "Everything that can't fit in your pockets we'll put in my purse". It's such a disgusting and random moment that the pure shock of it occurring made me hysterical.
"Surveillance" does have a big twist in the third act but the beauty of it is not that's unpredictable but that it ultimately doesn't matter. In a world that's so messed up, so bizarre, so corrupt, who cares who the killers are? The film treats it with much the same amount of disinterest. The spree killers are just another element in the overall grotesque of this movie.
3.5/4 - DirectorDaniel SackheimStarsDiane LaneLeelee SobieskiStellan SkarsgårdAn orphaned teenager is taken in by a Malibu couple but discovers they aren't the caring friends they seemed to be.27-08-2022
"The Glass House" is a superb case study on the importance of the script. It is a movie with pedigree. Directed by successful TV director Daniel Sackheim it has a top-notch cast led by the once up-and-coming star Leelee Sobieski fresh from her leading turn as "Joan of Arc" and her small but memorable role in Kubrick's "Eyes Wide Shut". The rest of the actors include Stellan Skarsgard, Diane Lane, the always wonderful Bruce Dern, Kathy Baker, Rita Wilson, and a cameo from Chris Noth. The haunting score is written by one of my favourite horror composers Christopher Young. Finally, the film looks absolutely gorgeous thanks to the stunning production design from Jon Gary Steele and the expertly moody cinematography from Alar Kivilo. How can such a group of artists go wrong? Well, you haven't heard the story.
Our lead is Ruby (Leelee Sobieski), a typically moody teenage girl living the suburban dream with her loving parents and her obnoxious little brother. She spends her days going to the movies with her friends and her nights partying until well past her bedtime. Then, one night while sneaking into her house she is startled by a policeman. Her parents were in a car accident and are dead.
And just like that, the suburban dream is destroyed and so on... The two kids are taken in by their family friends the Glasses who live in a spacious, modern glass house on top of a hill. No, I'm not kidding. They are called Glass and they live in a glass house. How's that for a double-meaning title?
By the way, I find it pretty hilarious just how inconsiderate everyone is towards these young orphans. Their parents haven't been dead for a month and the glamorous Mrs Glass (Diane Lane) is already complaining about Ruby's bad attitude. Jeez, I know you're a Malibu socialite and all but let the girl grieve. The brother is perfectly fine though. The moment he sees his new Nintendo he completely forgets about the dead parents.
Anyway, for an excruciating 40 minutes or so, "The Glass House" turns into a modern-day Dickens tale about orphans in a new home. We are treated to such rivetingly emotional moments as the son wanting pizza instead of the calamari and Ruby hating having to share a room with her brother in a house larger than the one in "Thirteen Ghosts".
Mrs Glass, meanwhile, rolls her eyes at everything Ruby says or does and in general takes to motherhood like a fish to dry land. But the bigger problem is Terry Glass (Stellan Skarsgard), the kind of movie character who is constantly sinister for absolutely no reason. He speaks all of his lines with a growl and seems to be winking at the audience like a pantomime baddie when they disguise themselves as a lowly cowmaid.
Of course, it takes Ruby absolutely no time to become suspicious of his good intentions. All that moustache twirling doesn't help hide his villainous nature. Also, the fact that he absolutely ogles his 16-year-old ward whenever she walks past him, doesn't help. Of course, this being a Hollywood thriller no one believes her.
She goes to see the family lawyer (Bruce Dern) to tell him that not only has Mr Glass tried to grope her but that she saw Mrs Glass out of her mind on heroin with the needle still stuck in her arm! "Oh, it's probably nothing," replies the wise old lawyer suggesting that maybe she has 'diabetus'. And anyway they have nowhere else to go. Except that we've already met their rich uncle (Chris Noth) who seems a lot friendlier than the Glasses.
The uncle becomes a major plot hole in this movie because most of the plot relies on the fact that the orphans have no one to turn to. The film does a lot of gymnastics to get around this such as having the Glasses hide his postcards from the kids but it just doesn't work.
OK, OK, the big secret is out. The Glasses are evil! Who would've guessed? Well, anyone with half a brain cell. It's so obvious that I wonder if the director got the memo that it's supposed to be a midpoint twist.
From there on the film morphs into a mystery of the "ooh, I can't believe I left out this major important super secret clue in the trash can" variety. Ruby walks around the house finding clues like Nancy Drew in one of those video games. Meanwhile, everyone around her seems to be gaslighting her for no reason besides the fact that the movie wouldn't exist if anyone believed a word of what she was saying.
The logic of this movie becomes so idiotic that the finale of the entire movie relies solely on one character not telling another that the car they're driving in has been sabotaged. Why does this character not say that simple fact to save their life? Well, because the film has to end in a giant explosion I suppose. In most other movies this would be the dumbest moment but in "The Glass House" it's just another one in a collection.
The film is written by Wesley Strick who wrote a whole lot of OK movies before "The Glass House" and not a single good one after it. Maybe it finally broke him. Whatever the case, this is one of the worst screenplays I've ever seen a major Hollywood film have. It is consistently stupid, obvious, predictable, and unbearably boring. Besides Ruby skulking around the titular house, nothing at all happens until the last 30 minutes!
And just like that, the good work of the cast and the crew poofs into the thin air. No actor could convincingly spout dialogue this bad. No director could create suspense out of a plot this obvious. No amount of beautiful sets and moody lighting could make a movie this boring watchable. My heart goes out to Leelee Sobieski, a very good actor who got stuck in some seriously awful movies. I'm sad she stopped acting but with "The Glass House" on my resume, I would have quit as well.
1/4 - DirectorD.J. CarusoStarsAngelina JolieEthan HawkeKiefer SutherlandAn FBI profiler is called in by French Canadian police to catch a serial killer who takes on the identity of each new victim.29-08-2022
There's a very popular villain in French literature called Fantômas who is a master of disguise able to assume anyone's identity at any time. The appeal of Fantômas is that you never know who he is. Any face in the crowd could be his. He could be the cop, the witness, or the supporting character you never even thought of. The killer in "Taking Lives" has a similar kind of ability. He murderers lonely, unsuccessful men and assumes their identity. He lives in their apartments, uses their credit cards, pays their taxes until he gets bored and moves on. It's a rather creepy idea which plays at one of the basic human paranoias. Can we truly say we know who our neighbours are?
It is a shame then that the film doesn't play on that suspicion since the identity of the killer is pretty much obvious from the start. I won't reveal it here for fear that some may consider it a spoiler but I doubt there are any viewers who won't clock the killer the second he appears. An occasional red herring shows up, for sure, but none of them nearly convincing enough to divert our eyes from the sparrow.
A creepy killer needs a kooky detective to hunt him down and "Taking Lives" has Illeana Scott (Angelina Jolie), an FBI profiler who is introduced lying in the makeshift grave where the killer's latest victim was discovered. She is quirky in all the most predictable ways. Antisocial, guarded and dedicated to her work to the point of obsession. Note how she puts her fingers in her ears whenever she tries to concentrate.
She is asked to come out to Montreal (unconvincingly played by Quebec) and catch the killer by her old mentor (Tchéky Karyo) much to the chagrin of the local cops (Olivier Martinez and Jean-Hugues Anglade). The usual rivalry develops between them and Scott.
The screenplay based very loosely on a novel by Michael Pye and written by a whole slew of uncredited script doctors doesn't deliver anything new to the serial killer genre. In fact, it is fairly thin and predictable. The characters are especially stereotypical to the point that the film occasionally threatens to tip over into self-satire. No such luck.
Where "Taking Lives" does shine, however, is D.J. Caruso's direction. Even though it never quite reaches his artistic intensity, the film does have some of Brian De Palma's directorial flair. There's a similar stylishness, gothic atmosphere, and joy in the macabre.
Caruso manages to raise the material and make the film a rather unusual and entertaining watch. He seems to be a horror movie fan and every so often "Taking Lives" begins resembling a rather sleek slasher film. This horror fan especially appreciated one jump scare which is clearly lifted wholesale from the first "Friday the 13th" film.
Iranian cinematographer Amir Mokri also impresses with his moody, picturesque photography. He manages to mix a "Seven"-like grittiness and gore with striking aestheticism leading to a film which looks both stark and beguilingly beautiful. The Canadian locations especially stand out. The film could almost take place in one of those historical European towns with austere stone buildings and vast stretches of greenery. Occasionally the action shifts to an old dark house with wood panelling and secret rooms beneath creaky floorboards.
Caruso also keeps the story moving at a delightfully crisp pace. It never drags nor does it ever stop for long enough to allow us to think about all the plot holes and stereotypes. Whatever you may think of it, "Taking Lives" is undeniably an easy watch.
With its horror-movie stylishness and liberal dollops of gore, the film becomes one of the more unusual and gutsy entries into the late-90s/early-00s serial-killer movie subgenre. Especially startling is the third act which completely deconstructs everything we thought we knew about Illeana Scott. If only such a formula-busting approach was also taken to the other characters and the plot, maybe the script for "Taking Lives" could have been better.
The film's biggest failing is with the characters partly due to the thin writing and partly due to the performances which never quite manage to convince. Angelina Jolie is an odd casting choice and makes for a weak, bland lead. She seems ill-at-ease playing such a cool, distant character and never manages to exude the confidence and energy required to carry this picture. It's a rather listless and rigid performance.
The rest of the cast is similarly bland and forgettable including Ethan Hawke, Kiefer Sutherland and Tchéky Karyo whose characters register only as plot devices. The only person who stands out is the brash and needlessly aggressive detective Paquette played rather charmlessly by Olivier Martinez. Maybe a little more charisma would have made the character palatable but Martinez is merely grating. I can't decide which is worse, being forgettable or being unbearable.
On a side note, I did quite enjoy seeing Gena Rowlands play the killer's severe mother. It's quite a small role and Rowlands doesn't seem to put much effort into her performance but she is the kind of actor who can effortlessly command attention which is exactly what she does in her few scenes here.
"Taking Lives" is unusual for its stylishness and horrorific atmosphere even if its script is bog standard. D.J. Caruso carries it singlehandedly and the question of whether you will enjoy the movie rests entirely on the question of what you want from it. I personally enjoyed the style and was engrossed in the mood enough to be willing to suspend my disbelief. After all, as Roger Ebert pointed out in his review of the film: "it doesn't matter if you believe it walking out, as long as you were intrigued while it was happening". I was intrigued and entertained.
2.5/4 - DirectorCarl SchenkelStarsChristopher LambertTom SkerrittCodie Lucas WilbeeDuring a chess tournament, grand master Peter is suspected of murdering Debi after sex. He helps the police as the murders continue.29-08-2022
Carl Schenkel's career began with two promising thrillers, the exquisitely entertaining "Out of Order" and "The Mighty Quinn". Sadly, it was all downhill from "Knight Moves", the limp serial killer flick with a shoehorned chess motif.
The lead is Peter Sanderson (Christopher Lambert), an American chess grandmaster with the thickest French accent this side of Quebec. While playing the most important tournament of his life he becomes the target of a psychopath wanting to exact brutal revenge against him. The revenge consists of a series of murders staged to look like suicides. Above each of the bodies, painted in blood is a word which acts as a clue to a larger puzzle.
Hunting the serial killer is a pair of detectives who make the imbeciles from "The Naked Face" look competent. Despite there being no evidence against him they decide Peter is the most obvious suspect and proceed to harass him for the rest of the movie. Especially annoying is the detective played by Daniel Baldwin whose dyed hair and eyebrows make him look distractingly like a wax figure. He spends the entire film shouting and posturing with the confidence usually seen in the kinds of cops whose careers end in the shootings of unarmed people.
Eventually, unable to make their case against Peter stick, they bring in a psychologist to help them. As is so often the case in thrillers such as these, the sexy Dr Kathy (Diane Lane) soon begins a torrid love affair with our hero, Peter. The progression of their relationship is uneven, to say the least. I have no idea what kind of insanity went on inside the editing room but their attitudes towards one another change from one moment to the next. One scene ends with her hysterically proclaiming him to be a coward only for the next one to begin with them being all lovey-dovey with each other.
"Knight Moves" was released before the big serial killer movie craze began but it fits right in with the subgenre. The formula is followed to the t. There's the psychopathic killer with a mysterious pattern, the tortured hero who becomes a suspect, the uneasy love affair etc. The only thing missing is the suspense as "Knight Moves" is a rather dull thriller.
For almost 2 hours, the film ambles aimlessly from one threatening phone call to the next. In between, the cops shout and physically assault their suspects, Peter and Kathy fight and then make up, and the killer stalks his next victim in a series of bloodless attacks.
Schenkel manages a few stylish scenes, such as the surprisingly intense opening montage sequence, but for the most part, his direction is pedestrian at best. He seems to have been constrained by a small budget as the film looks quite cheap. It has that distinctive feel of a 90s straight-to-video movie with its conspicuous ADR, bland production design, and flat cinematography. Even the soundtrack from the usually reliable Anne Dudley is a rote imitation of far better electronic scores.
And then there's the acting. There's no consistency in these performances. It's like the actors weren't given the entire screenplay. Lambert oscillates from scene to scene between listlessness and insanity without any logic. Diane Lane and Tom Skerrit mostly look confused by the convoluted plot and try to say their lines as flatly and emotionlessly as possible. The only constant is Daniel Baldwin whose performance is so grating and full of macho bravado I am tempted to knock off a whole star just because of him.
But, as is so often the case with thrillers, the biggest failing comes from the screenplay. Written by Brad Mirman the plot hinges on a series of increasingly dumber decisions from the characters most of whom lack any sort of personality. Having sat through the entire film, I couldn't tell you anything about Peter or Kathy both of whom are cardboardy non-entities moving aimlessly through the ever-twisting plot.
The mystery is centred around a series of poetic puzzles which our characters solve without much investigation. It doesn't really matter since the solutions to them are inane. The killer, meanwhile, is painfully obvious. How come? Well, there's a scene in the first third of the film which is dedicated entirely to introducing and naming a minor character who seemingly has no connection to the main plot. Geez, I wonder why?
"Knight Moves" is the worst kind of thriller. Infuriatingly dumb, listless, and cheap it has no thrills, no intrigue, no style. It merely goes through the motions of a serial killer flick formula until reaching the most obvious and unsatisfying conclusion possible. What was once accepted as a straight-to-VHS release for undemanding viewers to watch over a beer on a Saturday night is now completely obsolete. Like many other films, "Knight Moves" has been replaced by reality TV shows, YouTube videos, and cheap Netflix horror films. Good riddance to bad trash, I say.
1.5/4 - DirectorRussell MulcahyStarsChristopher LambertMike AnscombeJeff J.J. AuthorsChicago homicide detectives Prudhome and Hollingsworth are assigned to investigate a murder. Both become entangled in the plot of a serial killer whose goal is to recreate the body of Christ.31-08-2022
"Resurrection" is as close as a rip-off of "Se7en" can get without crossing over into plagiarism territory. Instead of it being centred around the hunt for a serial killer killing sinners, it's centred around the hunt for a serial killer killing apostles. The leads are still a mismatched pair of police detectives whose investigation prods at long suppressed wounds and results in personal losses. The killer, meanwhile, is a mysterious, intelligent, and egotistical figure who goads the detectives by leaving not a single clue behind. He seems untraceable until, one day, he lets himself get caught. Was he just careless or is it all part of a greater scheme? If you've seen "Se7en" you can probably guess the answer.
The one big twist on the formula is the killer's motivation. He is seeking to rebuild the body of Christ and for that reason, he steals appendages from his victims. a leg from one, an arm from another... Like its predecessor, "Resurrection" does not shy away from the gory and the gruesome. Actually, it absolutely nails that twisted, disturbing "Se7en" vibe that makes you itch for a shower as the credits roll. If there was such an award, "Resurrection" would be a shoo-in for most successful clone.
I must confess, I did really enjoy this movie on its modest and derivative level. It's a rather effective and brutal little thriller with scares that often outweigh those attempted in similar but much bigger budgeted films of the same ilk.
Cinematographer Jonathan Freeman, while certainly no Darius Khondji, gives the backlit and perenially rain-soaked urban cityscape a suitably gloomy and creepy look. He is not afraid of enveloping his shots with darkness broken up by only occasional gleams of light but he is skilled enough to make sure the important things are always easily visible.
I was less enamoured by some of the music video stylings employed by director Russell Mulcahy to little effect. Video distortions, sped-up footage and bullet time achieve nothing but distract. However, for the most part, Mulcahy does a fine job of keeping the intensity up and the pace brisk.
Brad Mirman's script is far from original even outside of the plot similarities with "Se7en". There's the angry police captain who wants to take our leads off the case. There's the dead son whom the detective is grieving over. There's the wife who feels underappreciated. The dialogue is cliched and stilted and the characters paper thin. Nevertheless, it is efficient in the sense that the story is clearly told and without subplots or similar distractions to the main plot which is for the best in a film like this.
Lord knows I'm no fan of Christopher Lambert. At best, he's a hammy actor whose mumbly, flat delivery can make the best of dialogues sound cheesy but the stripped-down, low-key nature of Mirman's screenplay actually helps him give a relatively credible performance. His dialogue is short and informative and he's only occasionally required to emote which he does as badly as ever.
It helps that he is cast alongside Robert Joy and Leland Orser, two actors who help lift the material and Lambert's lacklustre's acting talent. Joy especially is unsettling in the role Kevin Spacey played so memorably in "Se7en".
"Resurrection" is not a great or original thriller but it is an effective one which is the most you can ask for from a straight-to-video "mockbuster" such as this. The atmosphere is dark and gloomy, the pace is fast and exciting, and there are several genuine thrills and scares along the way. Most importantly, however, everyone plays the material straight and with conviction which is what ultimately lifts "Resurrection" above being just another "Se7en" rip-off.
3/4 - DirectorLucio FulciStarsJack HedleyAlmanta SuskaHoward RossA burned-out New York police detective teams up with a college psychoanalyst to track down a vicious serial killer randomly stalking and killing various young women around the city.31-08-2022
The film opens with a beautiful shot of the New York skyline. The camera then slowly pans over to show a man walking his dog in the distance. A beautiful image. We go closer and see that the dog, a golden retriever, is restless and playful. The man bends down to pick up a stick and in doing so groans loudly. "My balls". This may seem like an insignificant detail but it is actually the perfect opening for a film like "The New York Ripper". It establishes the paradigm by which the entirety of the film will operate.
Lucio Fulci is not as stylish or artful as Dario Argento or Mario Bava but he has an astute feel for the gritty, grimy, and filthy including such minutia as the dog owner's tight underwear. Most directors wouldn't ever think of including such a tiny detail but Fulci puts it front and centre, right before the opening credits as a key moment in the film's worldbuilding. The man's balls let you know that this film will not be pretty, neat, or easily palatable. Heed this warning!
"The New York Ripper" has over the years accumulated quite the reputation as the nastiest of all the video nasties. Indeed, the film is very gory and brutal but I think that its reputation rests not on the murders but on the seedy world in which they take place. Not only is Fulci's portrayal of the seediest sides of New York unblinking, he absolutely focuses his gaze on the most hideous, most graphic, most grittily portrayed perverts that inhabit it. Everyone in this film is perverted at least a tiny bit. The lead detective is in love with a prostitute, the psychiatrist who's helping him hides pornographic magazines in his newspapers, and the chief suspect is a rapist and a gigolo. In fact, all the men constantly ogle the women around them. What's more disturbing, however, is that the women are turned on by being ogled.
These scenes are far more disturbing than the murders which are graphic but also brief and largely unmemorable. Far more effective, for instance, is the scene in which a man sexually assaults a woman in a crowded cafe by shoving his bare foot between her legs. Or the scene portraying a sex show in which an obviously bored woman squirms under the weight of the heavy-set man having sex with her on the stage. Or, for that matter, the suspense-filled scene in which a woman, tied up and naked, realizes that the man lying next to her is the serial killer the police are looking for.
The cumulative effect of these scenes is overwhelming and suffocating. It may be a cliche to say so, but I really needed a shower after watching "The New York Ripper". It may not be the effect you want a movie to have on you but it's hard to argue that Lucio Fulci succeeded in his goal. Despite featuring a nude scene every few minutes, "The New York Ripper" is the least arousing movie I've ever seen in my life.
The actual plot is far, far less interesting and less effective. It is a routine police thriller about a serial killer who butchers pretty women and then phones the police to gloat. The one distinguishing feature of this killer is that he has the voice of Daffy Duck. Unlike many others who mock this aspect of the film, I actually found it oddly creepy and quite unsettling. I don't think it would have worked in a more straightforward, serious thriller but in the perverted, cockeyed world of "The New York Ripper," it seems quite logical and fitting.
This is not exactly a good movie, in the strictest sense of the phrase, but if you're choosing to watch a film called "The New York Ripper" I expect that you're not exactly after a Francois Truffaut masterpiece. The script especially is ridiculous with its aimless narrative, incoherent dialogue, and lack of solid characterisation. The pacing is completely off and there are close to 20 minutes that could be cut without losing anything. Characters are introduced and then forgotten, scenes are dedicated to relationships which then prove completely irrelevant, and the ending is so rushed I burst out laughing when the film ended in a scene which lasts less than a minute.
What it is, however, is undeniably one of the best exploitation films out there. It is brutal, seedy, unflinching, and full of insane surprises. The New York location shoot also paid off and the film has the kind of gritty energy that made "The French Connection" a masterpiece. Fulci does a great job of setting the film against dilapidated, graffiti-covered backdrops. It is absolutely authentically a New York picture. It lives and breathes the city.
Fulci's direction is more meat-and-potatoes than that of his Italian Giallo colleagues. You won't find a striking colour palette here or any stylistic flights here. He does display a good feel for suspense, however, and there are several quite tense sequences in which the killer stalks his unsuspecting victims. He also gives the film a kind of in-your-face intensity and nervousness that Giallo films rarely possess but that is absolutely crucial to the authenticity of the New York setting.
The cinematography is a different matter altogether. The film was shot by Luigi Kuveiller and looks unexpectedly beautiful. Besides a few handheld (and probably unsanctioned) shots on the streets of New York City, the film has a sleek, perfectionist look that few exploitation films enjoy. The cinemascope aspect ratio is well used with meticulous framing and some rather clever focus pulls. The lighting is atmospheric and artful in a way that the direction isn't and that's why the look of the film doesn't have the rough, gritty feel the rest of the film does.
It's also a well-cast film full of fabulously grotesque faces and bizarre characters. I love the old woman in a hairnet who pesters the detectives with insignificant details of the victim's life.
The terrific English actor Jack Hedley plays the lead detective. He's a strange choice being that he is far too sophisticated and sensitive to convincingly play a tough-as-nails New York cop but his skeletal, well-worn face fits the film's downbeat tone perfectly. He also has the kind of piercing, intelligent eyes that can speak volumes in close-up. It's just a shame that he was robbed of his rich baritone voice.
Speaking of dubbing, this film has an atrocious English dub. It's full of fake-sounding New York accents and obnoxious voices making an already overwhelming movie unbearable. I recommend watching the much more subdued Italian dub. Seeing New Yorkers speak fluent Italian is not quite the authentic experience Fulci had in mind but it's far less annoying than the English version.
3/4 - DirectorPhilip KaufmanStarsSean ConneryWesley SnipesHarvey KeitelWhen an escort girl is found dead in the offices of a Japanese company in Los Angeles, detectives Web Smith and John Connor act as liaison between the company's executives and the investigating cop Tom Graham.31-08-2022
Now here's a perplexing film. It was released in 1993 but feels like a b-movie from 1943. It would fit snuggly in that decade with its cliched plotting, its stereotypical characters, and its cringe-worthy xenophobia. Unlike those films, however, "Rising Sun" is 130-minutes long. The experience is akin to Chinese water torture and every second feels like another drop.
Based on a controversial Michael Crichton novel, it is supposedly a multicultural whodunnit in which a pair of LAPD detectives investigate a murder among high-powered Japanese businessmen. It's a decent premise but one marred by the lack of knowledge about modern Japan on part of the filmmakers and what can only be described as blatant racism.
You think I'm overreacting? The Japanese in this film are portrayed as an alien race, unknowable and vaguely sinister. Their one goal in America is to wage an economic war on the white man and win. There is no dialogue to be had between the two cultures as the Japanese are guarded and cold-blooded. They only speak about business and are only interested in sex and money.
In the world of "Rising Sun", Japan is treated much like Nazi Germany was in the 1930s. Sean Connery plays a man named John Conner (no, not that John Connor) who is knowledgable about Japanese culture and who is the only one able to speak to them. Wherever he goes, the Americans around him gossip in hushed tones about how he's been to Japan and how he likes the Japanese. Everyone is aghast that he is friendly to them.
Of course, in "Rising Sun", John Connor being friendly to the Japanese means that he treats them not like humans but like machines. If you speak to them in the right tone of voice, bow low enough and for long enough, they will do as you please. Connor outlines the rules about how you should speak to these intimidating foreigners the same way a mystic lists off the rules for demon summoning in a bad horror movie.
It is astounding to see attitudes such as these in a film from 1993. This is the same kind of magical thinking that produced Fu Manchu in 1912. For Michael Crichton and director Philip Kaufman, the Japanese are clearly so vastly different to other humans that they cannot be talked to normally. You cannot approach a Japanese as a regular human being and if you dare break one of their rules you might get killed. There's an appalling scene in the film in which a security guard literally trembles with fear as he talks about "those people", how different they are to "us", and how "they" treat him right.
To offset the Japanophobia, the filmmakers cast a black man as John Connor's partner. He's played by Wesley Snipes and most of his dialogue consists of him pointing out how racist white people are towards him. Not only is this an obvious and rather cynical ploy on behalf of the filmmakers to show they're "hip to the issue", it is also underhanded because the film is equally racist towards black people as it is towards Japanese people.
There's a hideous scene in which Snipes' character, a cop named Web Smith (no, that's not a joke), goes "back to the hood" where he grew up. Of course, it is completely impossible for a black man in a 90s movie to have grown up in a regular neighbourhood or to have been born in a middle-class family, but that's a different issue. This is the only scene in the film that features black people other than Web and it shows all of them as criminals and thugs who stand in the street waiting for a car to pass by so they can intimidate and rob the occupants. "Don't say shit," Web warns Connor, "or you can kiss your little ass goodbye". How lovely.
Besides the racism, "Rising Sun" has little else to offer. For the most part, it's a limp, boring, routine thriller which doesn't deserve any particular analysis. The one funny thing about that aspect of the film is that they show us the murder and the silhouette of the killer. So, in order to preserve his identity, they have all the suspects have the same bouffant haircut!
As directed by Philip Kaufman, this is a weirdly disjointed film. It seems to be played dead straight but the stereotypical characters are downright parodic. Harvey Keitel pops up playing a character whose every single line contains a racist slur. It's also a film that's told chronologically except for the three or four times it randomly cuts to a flash-forward showing Web being interrogated by someone. It happens so rarely, so suddenly and for no apparent reason that every time it happened I was confused.
The screenplay, credited to three different writers and probably written by none of them, is awful. Vast amounts of dialogue are pure, unconcealed exposition. Connor especially is given so much expository dialogue that he feels like the film's narrator. Notice how every time something unusual appears on screen, a character will immediately explain what it is even if he doesn't have anyone in particular to talk to.
The plot never comes together. When it ended I had no idea why the killer did what he did, or why any of the other things that happen in the film happened. That's a spoiler-free way of saying it's a mess. It's the kind of a film you get when you throw all the buddy-cop movie cliches you can imagine at a page and see what sticks.
I don't know who this film was made for. Anyone vaguely familiar with Japanese culture will recognise the film for the xenophobic piece of trash it is, thriller fans will be bored by its obvious and glacial plot, and I suspect those who share its beliefs about Japan won't even bother to watch it.
All in all, the film is a painful sit. It's sad and cringeworthy to see how an old and complex culture is portrayed in a most cliched, cartoonish way. I'm shocked that the Japanese businessmen are not wearing kimonos, to be honest. I wouldn't put it past Crichton and Kaufman. It's also painful to watch good actors like Connery, Snipes, Keitel, Mako and others struggle with such thin, stilted material. Even Connery cannot infuse this movie with any charm or charisma and it sinks like a stone.
1/4 - DirectorPhilip KaufmanStarsAshley JuddSamuel L. JacksonAndy GarciaJessica, whose father killed her mother and committed suicide, is a police officer. While investigating a murder, she finds herself in the center of her own investigation, when her former lovers start being murdered.31-08-2022
Whatever happened to Philip Kaufman? How did he go from directing such complex, unique, great movies like "Invasion of the Body Snatchers", "The Right Stuff" and "The Unbearable Lightness of Being" to making such cheap fare as "Rising Sun" and "Twisted"? Nothing in those great films suggested a proclivity towards the cliched or the obvious. Nothing in his career before suggested he had any interest in being a mainstream purveyor of entertainment for the lowest common denominator.
The most baffling thing is that Kaufman's bad movies are not even unique in their badness. They're not the bad movies great directors make when their ambitions outweigh their vast talents. No. "Rising Sun" and "Twisted" are the kinds of bad movies any straight-to-video director in the world could have made. They're clumsy, silly, and lacking in any real ambition.
OK, fair dues, "Twisted" is the better of the two. It's shorter and not racist. Those are some low standards indeed but "Rising Sun" set the bar there. It actually would have been a passable if preposterous thriller had it premiered on TV or gone straight to DVD. As a major Hollywood production, however, it is a curiously subdued and lacklustre affair lacking in style or thrills.
The plot is a rehash of the old serial killer formula. All the plot points remain the same, only the particulars of the killer and the detective change. The detective is Jessica Shepard (Ashley Judd), a newly promoted inspector with a drinking problem and a dark past. Combined, they seem to be making her pass out every night only to wake up confused and not quite in the same place she fell.
The killer is a rather low-key one for movies such as these. There are no grandiose tricks, no biblical motifs, and no significant butchery. He merely beats his victims to death and then dumps them in the sea. How do the cops know there's a serial killer out there then? Well, all the victims are former lovers of Jessica's.
The initial conclusion is an obvious one and Jessica is the first to reach it. Is she the killer? Did she, in her drunken stupor, kill the men she had slept with? Well, of course not. Not even the movie seems to entertain this possibility seriously. So then who did it? The pool of suspects is relatively small and stereotypical.
There's her partner, the horny Latino Mike (Andy Garcia). We know he's Latino because he frequents flamenco bars and we know he's horny because he can't stop making passes at Jessica. Another cop is a good suspect, a creep by the name of Jimmy (Mark Pellegrino), who is Jessica's ex-boyfriend turned current stalker. Finally, there's the chief of police himself, the sturdy John Mills (Samuel L. Jackson) who is also Jessica's stepfather.
The goofy screenplay is written by a woman, Sarah Thorp, but it sure doesn't read like that. Every man in this film is either out to sleep with Jessica or demean her in some way. If the idea of the film was to show sexism in the workplace, then that idea got lost along the way. It's one thing to have creeps such as Jimmy be sexist pigs, it's a whole other when characters we're supposed to like are too.
Meanwhile, Philip Kaufman directs this film as if he's working over a crackly landline. There are no attempts at style, originality, or even suspense. Visually, the film is as flat as a pancake. He's merely putting the story, such as it is, through the motions without trying to put a personal stamp on it or grace it with atmosphere or tension.
The saving grace of the picture is its actors who give their characters more charisma and likeability than they deserve. Ashley Judd, Andy Garcia and Samuel L. Jackson all make the most of the thin parts they're given and quite a lot of the film is relatively entertaining just because they're playing off of each other. Also great are some of the actors playing the smaller parts. I liked Camryn Manheim's quirky pathologist and Titus Welliver and Leland Orser are their usual reliable selves.
That's not quite enough to make me recommend "Twisted", a thin and lacklustre thriller by anyone's definition but it is enough for me not to hate it. I wouldn't cross the street to see it but if someone were to force me to sit through it again I suspect it wouldn't be an altogether unpleasant experience. This is the kind of movie well suited to Hallmark where you'll see it once, laugh at its stupidity and then promptly forget you've ever seen it. Seeing major stars in a film like this, however, is frankly bizarre.
2/4