Rixflix A to Z: An American In Paris (1951)

Directors: Vincente Minnelli & Gene Kelly (ballet & various sequences - uncred.) // MGM; 1:53; Color
Crew Notables: George Gershwin (music), Ira Gershwin (lyrics), Alan Jay Lerner (AAW - story & screenplay), John Alton (AAW - ballet photography), Alfred Gilks (AAW - cinematography)
Cast Notables: Gene Kelly (Jerry Mulligan), Leslie Caron (Lise Bouvier), Oscar Levant (Adam Cook), Georges Guétary (Henri Baurel), Nina Foch (Milo Roberts), Madge Blake (Edna Mae Bestram - uncred.), Noel Neill (American art student - uncred.), Anna Q. Nilsson (Kay Jansen - uncred.)
Cinema 4 Rating: 8

It would seem to obvious to gush on about how this movie stands tall as one of the great achievements of the movie musical genre, so I won't. The lushly gorgeous and exquisitely designed 17-minute ballet that closes the film and the perfect melding of disparate Gershwin pieces into a smoothly rolling entertainment are in themselves enough to secure such a place for American, and it scored huge at the Oscars the following year, so its place in American film history is secure and well-documented. It's far from my favorite Gene Kelly film, or even my fourth, even if he is his usual dynamic self -- the joy of watching Kelly is to watch a man constantly thinking (and dancing) his way to that next rung on the ladder. Sometimes it seems as though each film for him were a huge puzzle, and that it will not satisfy him to solve that puzzle by simple logic (read: obvious dance steps) alone, so he takes a harder and more circuitous route to its conclusion each time. If only the plot were more deserving of such attention, but perhaps its lightness and obviousness free him (and his engaging co-stars, especially piano virtuoso Levant) up to concentrate on what's most important here: the music and the dancing.

But something has bothered me about the movie since I first saw it as a teenager: Kelly's character, Mulligan, an ex-G.I. with a budding painting career in post-war Paris, becomes infatuated with elfin nymphet Lise (Leslie Caron), who is engaged, unbeknownst to Mulligan, to one of his friends. Meanwhile, he is getting an unexpected boost in his career through the financial aid of a cool blonde benefactor named Milo, played by Nina Foch, who has more than just an art show on her mind. He, of course, won't give Milo the time of day romance-wise, setting off on the normal course of ultimate heartbreak that befalls all such star-crossed young lovers.

My problem with all of this lovey-dovey nonsense is the fact that I find Nina Foch both far more engaging as a romantic target, and also more attractive. Caron is more "my type" -- I prefer brunettes -- and the cool blonde stereotype has never been my glass of soda, well, except for in my real-life persona, where Jen rules my heart in a major way. And Caron has that "too many teeth" thing going against her -- a smile far too wide (and her eyes, too) and a bit of an overbite. It's not that I don't find her attractive -- she is very pretty, and even more so in Gigi a handful of years later, where I do adore her -- but here, my unfulfilled fantasies of being a "kept man" prevent me from ever truly buying into the Mulligan-Lise romance, and every time that Kelly's character spurns Foch's, I just want to yell at the screen.

Hmmm, perhaps I should take up painting...

1952 Academy Awards - 6 wins (Picture, Screenplay, Music Score, Costume Design, Cinematography, Art Direction-Set Decoration) and 2 other nominations (Director and Film Editing)

Pounded Like A Dawg, Part II: The Revelation

So it seems that I will not actually ever get that order from The Music Dogpound. Not only have I not received an email reply, but further explorations on Google have revealed that this company has practically disappeared overnight.

As I said before, typing in "www.musicdogpound.com" would bring up a link discussing "The Movie Dogpound" instead, which came out as an entirely blank page. Taking this to the next logical step, I typed in "www.moviedogpound.com"... and guess what came up? A link to www.bookdogpound.com. No wonder these guys went out of business -- they had their media formats all mixed up...

Clicking on The Book Dogpound link brought up a page that ACTUALLY shows you something -- an apparently closed down store. The page says it is the home of "The Movie Dogpound & The Book Dogpound... movie, music and more", but more is something they have definitely run short of by this point. Clicking on each of the individual icons for Movies, Music or Games gets you a nearly blank page with a warning that you have "received an error" and information stating "Unknown Store ID (sl)". Clicking on the Books icon gets you the most pertinent information about this company yet: another nearly blank page with a line in very large text reading: "This Online Store Has Been Closed".

Suffice to say, I am now filing my claim with Amazon post-haste. And all of those good reviews on there? They have to be pure b.s. And now, I will have to reorder Jen's gift from Amazon for the higher price.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...

...Oh, well, anything for love, right?

Pounded Like A Dawg... Marketplace Misadventures and Libelous Attitudes

Oh, how I love this girl...

During what seemed to be a normal emptying of the car trunk after Jen's trip to Costco the other night, I noticed the back of an object that was the usual size and shape of a DVD package. Unable to determine what it was from its rather non-descript backing sheet, Jen sheepishly (actually, mock sheepishly) admitted that she found it at a good price, so she couldn't resist, and then added "it's a late Christmas present". Turning it over, my eyes almost popped out for good when I saw it was the Preston Sturges: The Filmmaker Collection box set. Careful observers of the Pylon will recall that this very set was on my Christmas wish list -- and SO WHAT if it was a little late? All the better I say... extends the season out and all that rot, y'know... seven swell flicks from one of the greatest practitioners of film comedy ever, with four films that rank very high on my "Greatest Comedies" list, include the sublime The Lady Eve and Sullivan's Travels, one of my favorite films period.

But then it reminded me yet again that one of Jen's main presents was yet to arrive in the mail. A particular gift of enlarged price tag that was purchased through the Amazon.com Marketplace from a company purportedly called "www-musicdogpound-com". The only reason I purchased this from this supposedly fast and "98%" approval-rated seller was because the price of the gift would come down about $25, and the gift was already over $150 to start. I had ordered from the Marketplace about a dozen times up to the point of this purchase -- which was made on Dec. 9th, so we are now coming up on a month without any result -- and had been happy with prompt and excellent service until this one. Of course, I had not ordered from "The Music Dogpound", so the weeping had not begun yet...

Here's the deal. You see a high approval rating, you check out a few reviews and then you make the purchase based on whether you feel that you can trust these jokers or not. Of course, these good reviews might also be plants, but Amazon seems to have a decent claims system in place, and I will pursue that route in a few days. First, I waited until the Amazon-given date of 12/30 to prepare making my displeasure known, giving them an extra days following the holidays -- and then I spoke up. I sent a polite email to the cruel masters of this phony baloney business, stating only that I was wondering what the delay was and asked if they would inform me when I could expect it to arrive. Two days later? No reply at all.

Going on to Amazon reveals an immense amount of dissent over The Music Dogpound (and their sister pound for movie purchases). Of the first 150 entries for their account, all dated from 1/2 to 1/3, less than ten positive or neutral reviews could be counted. The rest were stories so friggin' similar to mine, it was uncanny. At least it's nice to know one is not alone in their misery -- which is basically the way of all things, it seems. Searching for this company on the internet leads one to eBay, where they also pose as a legitimate seller of movies and music, and where they have a fairly high rating, as well. But try to find an address or phone number? Good friggin' luck... because you can't find these criminals except for on generally respectable marketplace sites.

Clicking on their name at eBay sends you to information such as "No longer a registered user" and "This store has closed." If they have shut down operations for good, then they were probably taking the money and splitting. And now Amazon is going to get stuck with shelling out massive claims, and then Amazon will have to go after the Pound in court. So, why do it? Though, perhaps, Mr. Dogpound ending up getting tossed into his own puppy furnace -- should I feel bad if someone has croaked even if they owe me either an expensive gift or a bunch of dough in refunds? Nah... serves the creep right...

By the way, if you type their address into Google as "www.musicdogpound.com", you get a line of b.s. that reads "At Movie Dogpound we sell brand new CDs, DVDs and Games at wholesale prices. Never used or bootleg items. 30 day money back." If you pull up that link, however, it comes up as A COMPLETELY BLANK PAGE -- when the hell does that happen on the internet? (Click on banner to see...) When do you get absolutely nothing?

Oh, yes... when you order from The Music Dogpound.

You get jackshit...

Rixflix A to Z: American Graffiti (1973)

Director/Co-Writer: George Lucas // Universal; 1:52; Color
Crew Notables: Francis Ford Coppola (producer), Willard Hyuck & Gloria Katz (co-writers), Kim Fowley (music recordist), Walter Murch (sound montage)
Cast Notables: Richard Dreyfuss (Curt Henderson), Ron Howard (Steve Bolander), Paul Le Mat (John Milner), Charles Martin Smith (Terry "The Toad" Fields), Cindy Williams (Laurie Henderson), Candy Clark (Debbie Dunham), Mackenzie Phillips (Carol), Wolfman Jack (himself, disc jockey for XERB), Bo Hopkins (Joe Young), Manuel Padilla Jr. (Carlos), Beau Gentry (Ants), Harrison Ford (Bob Falfa), Lynne Marie Stewart (Bobbie Tucker), Kathleen Quinlan (Peg), Del Close (guy in the bar), Susan Richardson (Judy), Kay Lenz (Jane), Joe Spano (Vic), Debralee Scott (Bob's girlfriend), Suzanne Somers (Blond the the T-Bird)
Cinema 4 Rating: 8

How different our lives might be if this film had not been the monstrous hit that it turned out to be. Would Star Wars have gotten made if this film hadn't given notice to George Lucas' then burgeoning talents? Would Happy Days, whether you see it as a cultural eyesore or not, been the same or made at all if this film hadn't taken off? Would a lot of shows and movies be cast differently over the next 20 years if so many members of this unbelievably famous cast (though not at the time) get this flick writ in gold onto their resumes? I don't, or can't, know the answers to these, since Graffiti did succeed, and the world as we know it stayed on course, good or bad.

Here's the deal with Graffiti for me: I didn't see it for years. At least, until it popped up on VHS, which was actually a big deal when it did, and truth be told, I was disappointed. Why? Because this was one of those films that people talked about too much. They built it up for me, elaborated on the plotline, let me think it was dirtier than it could ever possibly be, and reworked the dialogue until it was far from its actual use in the film. The Graffiti that this unknowing cabal of completely innocent idiots plugged into my grey matter was far closer to Animal House than the film it actually is. In fact, some people (or even I) may have been confusing the movie with others of its nostalgic ilk, including the Belushi flick, which I also did not see for a few years after its release (though it came 5 years after Graffiti). And then there's The Hollywood Knights, a film which sits as an uneasy and slightly inept conglomeration of both films, but one which I saw before either of them (so, naturally, despite its ineptness, I love it).

But then, trapped on a couch with a broken ankle in the middle of a snowbound winter in Anchorage, I saw six times on cable in one week. At first, I was watching because the music (and the raspy cool voice of Wolfman Jack, whom I used to watch late nights on The Midnight Special in the 70s) caught my ear, and then the casual humor of the story kept me around, and finally, the sweetness and milky-eyed nostalgia of Lucas' vision completely sucked me in and I was hooked. It doesn't hurt that the baby-faced cast of eventual stars (and a couple of superstars) are all wonderfully cast to even the smallest role, and it also doesn't hurt that the car culture madness that I normally abhor suddenly made complete sense to me. I suddenly understood the late night cruising that I mocked so deeply in my own high school years, and it all became so attractive to me at a point where I was well past my doing the same. Even if, ultimately, the car rallying is only an extension of primate mating rituals; boy monkeys beating their chests and fighting over the girl monkeys, only they do it in souped-up woodies and T-birds. But, man, I wanted to cruise that strip just like the rest of 'em.

The coolest thing about Graffiti, though, was that it led to my first victory in a trivia contest. It was in a history class at Chugiak (my first high school) in which my teacher, who obviously was a huge fan of the flick, offered an excuse from Christmas vacation homework to the person who could identify the movie quote on the chalkboard: "Where were you in '62?" Without ever seeing the film, but knowing about it somewhat from a story on the evening news, I was able to give the correct answer. He also gave me a followup question regarding the DJ in the film. I was able to answer that as well. When he asked me if I had liked the movie, my reply was "No, sir. Haven't seen it. But I've heard everything about it."

And you thought it was because I had stayed at a Holiday Inn last night...

Psychotronic Ketchup & Rixflix A to Z: The Amazing Transparent Man (1960)

Director: Edgar G. Ulmer // AIP ; 0:57; b/w
Crew Notables: Jack P. Pierce (makeup)
Cast Notables: Marguerite Chapman, Douglas Kennedy, James Griffith, Ivan Triesault, Boyd "Red" Morgan, Carmel Daniel
Cinema 4 Rating: 3

I so wanted to love this movie when I first heard about it. It's Edgar G. Ulmer, stylish director of The Black Cat from 1934, a favorite Karloff-Lugosi film of mine, and also the sublime noir Detour. Even his lesser films tend to have something about them that makes them worthwhile viewing. And look at that poster on the right. Doesn't it make you want to see that film? So, what happened here?

Is it a half-rendered script, with bad characterizations and motivations, that is chiefly to blame? I am fine with the mad science bent of the story -- after all, it seems you can't produce invisibility without it -- but don't threaten the world with invisible zombies without coming through at least partially on the threat. The "hero", an escaped convict who has been set up as a guinea pig for the experiments, is completely unlikable, and does not offer up any compelling reason why we should care about his plight, especially given that his main concern is using his newfound powers to rob a bank. If he is supposed to come off as an anti-hero, well, he really comes off as a scheming asshole from the get-go. The thankful part is that the film plays for less than an hour... whew! But it's just long enough to have to endure some rather rickety invisibility effects, though it is fun in the moments when he becomes partially visible, even if its only a dopey plot device at work.

Again, I have this film on one of those public domain 50 Sci-Fi Classics collections, though I had seen it years before. So, I'm not complaining much about it, but in the end, this one is purely a case of "Cool Poster, Lame Result". Normally, even a bad movie can garner a much longer, pissed off review, but even this natural impulse of mine has been seemingly put to sleep by this film. Call it my "Amazing Disappearing Ability to Give A Shit..."

Recently Rated Movies #36: Hoppy Nude Ear!

It has become something of a tradition for myself, and sometimes my significant other, to spend all of New Year's Day at the movies. Why? One, everyone (well, not everyone, but "everyone") is hung over, so nobody goes to the movies (at least, early in the day). Since I rarely drink, and never on holidays, this leaves me awake and not suffering a headache in the a.m. Two, I am not much of a football fan, and I especially cannot stand college ball. Three, parades are only fun if you are actually there, and sometimes that is pushing it.

So, I go to the movies. I started doing this on January 1, 1987, and while I can't quite recall all four titles that I saw on my not intentionally inaugural New's Year's Movie Marathon, I do remember that two of them were Little Shop of Horrors and King Kong Lives. I can also tell you that my sneaking in to the Kong flick was the last time that I did so at a feature film, installing my code of movie ethics just following this robbery of the theatre system. The New Year's Movie Marathon was an inconstant event during the run of my late and unlamented marriage (it became hard to convince her I wasn't having affairs with all of the countergirls and usherettes, or just random people in the seats. Apparently, I was an outright whore... if only I was having that much fun in those days; it would have made sitting through Top Gun far more bearable...)

Post-marriage, the Marathon returned with a vengeance, and I have spent all but two of the ten years at flicks on New Year's, usually three movies, sometimes four, and one year, through the sheer luck of choosing some rather short films, five in one day. This is difficult to do nowadays with the amount of cleanup time that theatres tend to have between showings, but I did it. The participants in Anchorage were stocked from my usual cast of characters, generally myself, often Jen (at those moments when she didn't have to work), and people would come and go depending on their interest in the film and their personal approaches to time expenditure.

Many people make all holidays family time, and I understand this, but I don't have to agree with it. Thanksgiving, Christmas, even Easter are all fine for family, that I will give you. Whether or not I agree with the reasons for meeting is not important; one takes the opportunity to strengthen family bonds and catch up with the siblings and whatnot. Plus, the food is awesome. Halloween? Unless you are a kid, Halloween is not really a family thing, which I am thankful for since I am far too busy and fidgety to sit and around and discuss the weather. Halloween is about parties and revelry and letting go; easy to do with a pack of friends, hard to do with a family judging your every move. And then there is New Year's Day -- for me, it is the chance to start the year off perfectly, and that is with a day at the movies. Certainly it is not about dealing with a drunken father-in-law who likes to yell racial epithets at Bowl games, even at the players that are winning the game for his alma mater.

But this year, there will not be a marathon. We planned one, but then we found out that a dear friend, Petra, would be in town, and like always, we jumped at the chance to hang out with the old gang from back home. New Year's Eve in California Adventure last night was a good time (Disneyland was at capacity by 11 in the morning and much of the spurned crowd, including ourselves, headed over to the less popular but growing park). My back went out Saturday morning, but we were still planning a trip for today to the San Diego Zoo, where we are annual pass bearers, but now Jen has a migraine, and when those hit her, they hit fast and hard. As Jen said on Saturday, we are quite the pair. I doubt the zoo is in our future today, which is sad since we had been talking about pandas and okapis all weekend. For now, who knows? Maybe a movie might be in the works for later tonight.

Does it still count as a "Marathon" if you only make it to one film?

The List:
Undead (2003, Showtime) - 5; The Comedians of Comedy (2005, Showtime) - 7; Madhouse (1974, TCM) - 6; Rock 'n' Roll High School (1979, TCM) - 7; AVP: Alien Vs. Predator (2004, DVD) - 5; The Amityville Horror (2005, DVD) - 5.

Rixflix A to Z: The Amazing Mr. X (1948)

Director: Bernard Vorhaus // Eagle-Lion Films; 1:18; b/w
Crew Notables: John Alton (cinematography), Bud Westmore (makeup), Crane Wilbur (story)
Cast Notables: Turhan Bey (Alexis), Lynn Bari, Cathy O'Donnell, Richard Carlson, Donald Curtis, Virginia Gregg
Cinema 4 Rating: 6

There are going to be numerous films on my "Rixflix A to Z" or "Z to A" DVD Countdown that I have in my collection for no other reason than that they were given to me. Say, for instance, Dude, Where's My Car?, which I received in good spirits as a tongue-in-cheek present from pal Chewy and which remains an in-joke at my residence to this day, unopened and always threatening Jen with its "bad movie" presence. My reviews for the last two Alien films a couple days ago should point out this fact, as well.

But, there are also films that I own simply because I have them as part of a larger collection of cheaply-priced B-movies. One of these is The Amazing Mr. X, a film that I had never seen until yesterday, despite its being widely available on the public domain circuit. Certainly I had read about this low-budget B-quickie over the years, usually in positive terms, but had never taken the time to sit down and let Turhan Bey's smoothie con artist win me over in much the same way he does his potential victims in this film.

Bey is a phony spiritualist (a phrase which reads to me personally as being wholly redundant) named Alexis who is avidly preying on a pair of sisters, one of whom believes she is being haunted by the spirit of her dead husband. Her would-be fiancé enlists her younger sister in a plot to reveal Alexis for the predatory fiend they believe he is, but the kid sis ends up falling for the charming clairvoyant. Things get a little complicated for Alexis and the sisters through some fun plot twists, and the movie leaps about energetically trying to keep up with the various plot strands crammed into its relatively short length. Bey, whom I know mainly from The Mummy's Tomb, is a complete delight here, and the beauty of the film is that we are really kept guessing as to his actual claims of supernatural ability, even when we have been shown all the numerous ways in which he is defrauding people. In fact, some of the best parts are where we see his behind-the-scenes preparations for his sessions with his would-be victims. The entire movie is graced with some eye-popping cinematography by the renowned John Alton, and even if one takes the plot as obvious and beneath notice, one would still have to recognize the photography as top-notch, whether or not in a B-effort.

And that points out the true shame at work here. The film is in the public domain, and the print that I watched is not only scratched and murky at points, but also skips in bits of dialogue, too. As far as I can determine, there has been no effort made in preserving this film for future generations, and it would be good if Criterion, Kino, TCM or some such outfit that specializes in these things would set out and save this film. Again, I don't know how plausible this is, since I don't know of the availability of any decent prints, but it would be nice if someone looked into this situation. While this is not a classic by any means, neither is it a bad film, but merely a decent thriller with some excellent camerawork that should be preserved. I know that I would buy a preserved copy of the film. I'm sure there is a fairly good audience that would, too.