This Week in Rixflix #20: August 25-31, 2017

There's just no way around it. In order for me to post this recap within the timeframe I have set for my regular This Week in Rixflix pieces, I need to post it today. The problem is that my body and mind are nowhere in the vicinity of where they need to be to do it any justice.

Illness has taken me under again. This time it is some sort of flu or flu variant, possibly a stomach bug but I also have an ongoing headache and my throat is slowly getting rawer over the past 36 hours. As I posted on Facebook, nightmares have come with the illness, and they have been pretty severe on their own, let alone having to also feel completely shitty while dealing with monsters and murderers. As a result, this post is going to consist of this lead-in and a single review of the new American version of Death Note. I had planned capsule reviews of several other films that I viewed in the previous week: Cher and C. Aguilera in Burlesque (2010), Greer and Garson in Adventure (1945), J-Law and galaxy guardian Chris Pratt in the gorgeous but vapid Passengers (from this year), Ida Lupino and Joan Leslie as an odd sister pair in The Hard Way (1943), and Elvis himself in Easy Come, Easy Go (1967). 

It's a shame, because I had a few things to say (as I usually do) about all of these films, but the way I am feeling, it would be eons before I got the thing written. This is primarily due to my having some other topics I hope to write about this weekend, and I don't want to shift ever more projects to the back burner. (It is already a horrid habit of mine that I need to overcome.) And my reason for choosing Death Note as the single review this time is because I had already written three-quarters of it. It too was intended as a small, capsule review but turned a bit larger as I got going on it, so now my inability to edit myself down for once has turned into providence.

One note that I should add for the films that appear in the header image for This Week in Rixflix this go-around: most of the films that I watched over the past two weeks were an attempt to catch up on films from TCM's Summer Under the Stars, an event they hold annually each August. The 24 hours within a single day are used to focus on a particular star, and I love to use the event to catch up on films that I have missed in the filmographies of certain actors. This year, Summer Under the Stars overlapped with my attempt to finish the Hitchcock film course, and so I pretty much ignored the first week of SUTS, and really only came into it near the end of the second week. But I was able to knock out several titles each from Barbara Stanwyck (three films), Glenn Ford (two films), Greer Garson (six films), Ricardo Montalban (another six), and Dennis Morgan (never big with me, but I took advantage of it and saw a whopping eight films, most of them co-starring screen partner Jack Carson). When I drink, I drink deeply.

The Numbers: 

This week's feature-length film count: 28; 23 first-time viewings and 5 repeats.
Highest rated feature-length films: The Getaway (1972) – 8/9
Lowest rated feature films: Easy Come, Easy Go (1967) and Texas Terror (1934) – 4/9
Average films per day in August: 2.77
Average films per day in 2017 so far: 3.00
Consecutive days with at least 1 feature-length film seen per day: 261

The Reviews:

Death Note (2017) Dir.: Adam Wingard – Did we need another one? Look, a few years ago, against my better judgment, I decided to delve into the whole Death Note thing after all the initial hype burned itself out in the manner of most pop culture. Not the manga though; I had pretty much taken myself out of the comic buying game by the time Death Note started being available in the U.S., and so I went straight to the anime. I went into Death Note with some serious qualms about being sucked up in yet another "phenomena," but then it turned out that I quite enjoyed watching the series. It took me a little while to warm to the concept, but eventually I got caught up in the cat-and-mouse between the holder of the death note, Light, and his pursuer, L. Still, even with liking the series (but not loving it), I had serious doubts about the live-action version I had also heard about it. I been through a few other anime series that had been transfered to live action, and in most cases, the results were rather tepid overall. Did I want to waste my time?

And so I watched the live-action films, Death Note and Death Note 2: The Last Name. While my main interest was to see just how faithfully they would reproduce the story away from animation, once more, I was pleasantly surprised with how much I enjoyed them. In fact, I liked the films better than the series, and even rewatched both of them pretty quickly after I finished them. So, was I a Death Note convert? Not exactly, but I could not claim to not have found enjoyment in the property. Even with that, I had even more reservations when I discovered there was a third Japanese live-action film that had been produced, which was titled L: Change the World. The film had nothing to do with the Death Note series apart from the main character of the Holmes-like detective, L, who delves into one final case at the end of his young life. Since L is the most intriguing persona in the series, I naturally had to watch that film and once again enjoyed another piece of the Death Note property, though it was not nearly the same level of quality as the first two.

So, I had success after success after success (however qualified) in watching the various pieces of Death Note; surely this could carry over into the new American version? Especially when the director is Adam Wingard, a young talent for whom I have developed a high regard over the past few years, chiefly due to You're Next and The Guest. I wrote last week about my disappointment in another Wingard project, his sequel-cum-remake (for hire) of The Blair Witch Project. I felt that his direction was fine, but he was simply overwhelmed by the necessity of both slavishly replicating the mood of the original while also creating yet another chapter in a property that really had seen its day about fifteen years ago.

Here, in Wingard's version, that disappointment is mirrored, as over-familiarity is a definite factor, but the real problem is that Death Note, unlike TBWP, is still a live property in its native land of Japan. [*See note below this review.] Wingard's direction can be as taut as ever (which it is) but the film just kept nagging me with questions over its necessity. Much of the bad press surrounding this new version has been about possible "whitewashing," in replacing formerly Japanese characters with mostly Caucasians. I don't really have a problem with that since the locale is now in the U.S. (Seattle), and so a greater diversity of races becomes more possible, but the character of Light could (and really should have, in my opinion) have easily remained Japanese. (L., always the most fascinating figure in any version of Death Note, is African-American in the Wingard version.) 

My real problem with the film, apart from its ridiculous finale (which differs greatly from other versions), is the question of why couldn't the Japanese versions just stand as the versions seen in the U.S.? The originals are both well-shot, high quality productions with some excellent acting and solid action sequences. I ask this not long after having already derided the American remake of the Argentinian Oscar-winning film, The Secret in Their Eyes. The American version was not bad overall as a film on its own; it was just completely unnecessary, as were many changes to the story to try and make the film more topical in the current American climate of terroristic fear. I felt even stronger almost 25 years ago when an American studio decided to do a remake of George Sluizer's incredible The Vanishing (Spoorloos). At least they hired the same director to screw up his own remake (coincidentally also shot in Seattle) just five years after the original. I know people who loved the American version at the time, but to a person, not one of them had seen the Dutch version, which differs greatly in style and tone from the one with Jeff Bridges and Sandra Bullock. 

Of course, I don't hate all American remakes of foreign films. We wouldn't have Some Like It Hot, 12 Monkeys, The Magnificent Seven, and The Departed without some things being remade. (These are just a few brief examples; there are many others.) Closer to the subject at hand, speaking of U.S. remakes of J-horror properties, I loved Gore Verbinski's American update of Ringu back in 2002, a case where an already terrific Japanese horror film was arguably equaled (if not bettered) in effectiveness. So, this is most definitely not a call for American studios to stop remaking foreign films. People love to point out trends, but I feel each film project is unique unto itself. Some movies work and some movies just don't, and for me, as long as the creators of the new version have an interesting or original approach to even an old, crusty idea, wonders can often come out of that. That is part of the beauty of filmmaking, and art in general. So, I say let the sequels and remakes continue to come; I will find the ones worthy of my time eventually. And a small portion of them might turn out to be spectacular.

But the new version of Death Note? Not so much. It looks like product and it feels like product. I love Wingard, and still have hopes for his Godzilla vs. Kong film in 2020 (and contrary to popular opinion, it is no mere remake), but this film just has the sense of a job for hire. He's treading water here waiting for the big money down the line. I will give the writers some credit for attempting something different from the originals with the flashy ending, but as I mentioned before, it comes off all wrong, and every step taken along the way to get the story to that ending cheapens the overall film. It is really the second half of the film where the new Death Note truly goes awry. I don't hold this against Wingard as he had no credited hand in the screenplay, but he is still the boss in the end. The film's failure as a novel production unto its own is his failure as well. Why couldn't the series just stay in Japan? – TC4P Rating: 5/9

Of Pickaxes, Popped Skulls, and Party Tapes Lost to Time...

The only downside of getting back on the writing track is that it definitely takes time away from sitting down and enjoying films as I have become accustomed. Since one is decidedly more beneficial to my health than the other, so be it. I do not need to keep up my ridiculous two-plus films a day pace of the past few years. (On a good open day, I could even get in anywhere from six to nine films, depending on length.)

Yes, it is a new era for me, though really, I have merely reverted back to my ways of the first few years I was in California, when I was actually eager to be here, start over my life, and cut loose with the verbiage. Let's call it a bold new second edition of an old era. However, I am still watching films, just not at the same relentless pace. As proof, here are some capsule reviews and/or personal musings regarding a few that caught my attention recently:

My Bloody Valentine 3D (2009) [non-3D version]
Dir: Patrick Lussier
TC4P Rating: 5/9

I have a nagging suspicion that I have never given the original My Bloody Valentine film from 1981 a truly fair shake. To be honest, it was one of the few of what I would term the "original slasher bunch" that really gave me a good scare, chiefly through use of the creepy mining mask and pickaxe, but I used that knowledge against the film. Instead of embracing it like I normally would when a film delivers on its promise to be bloody and frightening, I stepped away from it, and I am not sure why. Another thing in its favor would be that it had more plot than the normal slasher film did in those days, but again I used this to turn my favor from it. And once again, I am not sure why. Several scenes from the film have always stuck with me, as has its memorable catchphrase said evilly by the trailer announcer as the ad's tension-fraught editing builds to its conclusion: "Take your pick!" Yeah, that was pretty effective.

It was inevitable, of course, that MBV would get remade, and I guess it was equally inevitable, given the eye-popping gore, that it would come out in 3D. I did not see it in the theatre, and so I have only now watched the 2D version of the film, but one thing has not changed in the 28 years between the versions, no matter the number of dimensions: a coal-filthy surplus of plot and characters. This new version is even more overloaded than the first. They seem to have taken the plot of the original, shaken, stirred, and shuffled it around a bit, twisted some details, and then added even more plot on top of it. If you are looking for the definition of "convoluted" to be summed up by a movie, you have it here. Here, having so much story becomes a detriment because most of the main characters are either so monumentally dull-witted or blind to their environment that you can't believe they even made it past third grade.

I need to talk about Jensen Ackles, and I am sure that I am about to infuriate some longtime Supernatural fans with this. I don't get him. Last year, I finally decided to check out Supernatural myself, and waded about chest high into the first season before I had to stop. I know the show, according to what I see online, is supposed to get AH-MA-ZING a few seasons into it, but I need to get past the first season. And one of the things keeping me from doing it is Ackles, whose performance I find understated to the point of being proclaimed one of the living dead. I assume he gets better in later seasons of the show, or maybe the fandom is simply made up of people who like to watch pretty muscle-boys fight monsters. In My Bloody Valentine, he fits the role he is given I suppose, especially since his ability to not impart any believable emotion at all helps to keep viewers guessing as to his guilt or innocence in the murders in this film.

Maybe the film is better in 3-D, as my friend Aaron mentioned to me the other day, and I just need to get the Blu-ray and watch it that way. Maybe I am wrong about Ackles, and I will get to a later season of Supernatural and find that I really like the guy and I just needed to let him grow into that role. I am pretty sure that I need to revisit the original MBV film and give it a grown-up viewing to establish a modern opinion on it. I don't know. Maybe I will do all of these things. Or maybe I will just take my pick.

Pop Skull (2011)
Dir: Adam Wingard
TC4P Rating: 6/9

So, I went bonkers, as I sometimes do, over a movie a couple of years ago called You're Next (and seeing it again recently, justly so). I noted at the time of my initial viewing the name of the director, Adam Wingard, and it wasn't long before I encountered segments he had directed in the anthologies The ABCs of Death, V/H/S, and V/H/S/2. None of these struck me as much as the grim fun I encountered in You're Next, and to be truthful, didn't really strike me as anything special at all in comparison. Earlier this year, at the behest of Aaron, I dove into a recently produced film called The Guest, starring Dan Stevens and Maika Monroe (whom I had was marvelous in It Follows). I went in knowing Wingard was the director, and really hoped it would at least live up to the promise shown in You're Next. Which it did. While I liked The Guest a little less than that film, and a little less than Aaron as well, it was a very enjoyable horror/action effort that manages to both complement many classic '80s action flicks and also raise the genre artistically. (As I write these words, my brain is compelling me to watch the film again right away.)

In my estimation, following the twin successes of You're Next and The Guest, Wingard has become someone worth watching in regards to future productions. But what about his earlier work? Reviewing his filmography, it turns out I had already seen another of his feature films, A Horrible Way to Die, which garnered some praise and citations on the film festival circuit a few years ago. I found the work underwhelming, and definitely not remarkable enough to make me remember the name of either Wingard or the film's screenwriter Simon Barrett. (It turns out I should have, because Barrett was also the clearly talented screenwriter of the other two films.) I recall that I gave Horrible a middle of the road rating (a 5 out of 9), and never made the connection that the same guys made You're Next one year later. I will probably need to revisit Horrible as well.

And now I go back further in time in Wingard's resume to Pop Skull, before Barrett was in the picture putting words down for Adam to turn into crazy pop culture totems. The title Pop Skull is the truest definition for what this tiny budgeted wonder can do to your psyche should you approach it openly. The story of Daniel (played by Lane Hughes), who spends his days in his home popping pill after pill and having increasingly horrific visions, Pop Skull is like a modern version of The Trip, though this one feel so much more real and terrifying than the bullshit hippie fest that Roger Corman and Jack Nicholson (the director and screenwriter, respectively) foisted upon the world. 

Daniel's visions of murder and mayhem could be many things: repressed memories of something monstrous he has already done, psychic projections of something he is going to do in the future, or just complete, drug-addled hallucinations. The biggest problem though are the spirits/ghosts that seem to inhabit his abode, haunt his every move, and won't let him get his wits about himself. Wingard doesn't want to make it easy for you either. The editing here is manic to the point of distraction at times, with the film flitting from style to style, from pill montage to hallucination to memories of a girl with a catnip-for-guys hairstyle and back to more pills so quickly it once again points to the film's title. For a film whose budget has been reported as a mere $2,000 and is, given the setting of a druggie shack, fairly dingy looking, there are some beautiful images to be found in Pop Skull, amongst all of the screaming, sweat, and blood. This may be a cult film of the future.

Blood Cult (1985)
Dir: Christopher Lewis
TC4P Rating: 4/9

I remember running across the VHS box of Blood Cult many a time in the horror sections of my hometown's video stores back in the late '80s. I had memberships at six different stores (and that's not even counting the memberships for renting from the rival grocery stores I frequented, where the horror content tended to be somewhat tamer), and while I was always looking for new titles or something to thrill me, somehow coming across the truly cheesy looking cover of Blood Cult just never got me excited about renting it. And so I passed time and again.

Twenty-five years or so have passed, and I have just watched Blood Cult for the first time. Was I right to skip it? Yeah, it's pretty bad, so my instincts were probably right. Should I still have watched it back then? Yeah, I should have, because for all its badness, it was kind of fun to see it, and the film is also kind of a piece of history. The story behind the film is that the producers wanted to skip theatrical release altogether and just shoot for the profits of putting the film out directly on video. The other thing they did was actually shoot it on video, thereby saving a lot of film costs as well. This was novel for 1985, and Blood Cult often gets attributed as the first of its kind: a film both shot on video and then released and marketed as a straight-to-video title. In fact, they used this status as a selling point for the movie. "Why would you want to watch something on film in a theatre," I can almost hear them say, "when you can watch something with half the quality of a daytime soap -- and with even worse acting -- on video?" Ah, marketers...

There is a campus, showering coeds are being dismembered, and it all could lead to some sort of "blood cult" out in the woods, hence the title. Who is behind the killings? The town sheriff, who looks like how I imagine Roger Ebert's grandfather to have appeared, wants to know, and it is going to take scene after scene of mind-numbing exposition and chats in small town diners to help him figure it out. I will give the film credit for not holding back on the gore. There are extreme closeups of facial disfigurements on victims in dumpsters and a severed, gushing forearm lying in a bloody shower stall. The second victim in the movie gets beaten to death with the decapitated head of the first victim. (I think that is what happened...) Blood Cult goes for the true grue, even if it ends up being sort of dull. It's utter shit, but its wicked little heart is in the right place. I could see this film being pretty fun at a party. And since it is likely that is exactly how I would have employed it had I rented Blood Cult back in the '80s, there is something to be said for that.