This Week in Rixflix #16: June 23-29, 2017

I am not sure if I am more excited about getting a chance to take TCM's online course about Alfred Hitchcock throughout the month of July, or the fact that they are showing over 40 of his films on their network around the same time. Granted, I do already own the bulk of his films from 1934 (starting with the original version of The Man Who Knew Too Much) through his final film in 1976 (Family Plot, which is the only Hitchcock film that I got the chance to see in a theatre upon its initial release). The other thing to take for granted is that I have seen most of his films in that span as well, with just a couple of outliers (having only missed 1937's Young and Innocent and 1953's I Confess, which I do own but haven't watched).

But they are showing most of his extant silent films and the bulk of his early British sound films, and that is where I really need to do a bit of catching up, as it were. Of his silents, the only one that I have ever watched all the way through is his breakthrough in 1927 with The Lodger, his tale of a Jack the Ripper type on the loose and the suspicions of the denizens of a boarding house over whether an odd man staying there might be the suspect. I am really excited to see the films just before The Lodger to see just where the Hitchcock style truly got going; The Lodger definitely shows him to already have developed some of the weapons in his arsenal, though he was still just under a decade away from his first great period, and he really hadn't truly settled on the thriller as his primary canvas.

In the meantime, I did finish going through the films from the Western course, which I wanted to get out of the way before I began the Hitchcock thing this week. Within this time, though outside of the course's range of interest, I watched two more John Wayne films I had not recorded yet as having seen: The Comancheros (1961) and The Undefeated (1969). 

Let me restate that: I thought that I had not seen either one before, but in watching each one, I am not so sure now. Seeing Stuart Whitman's Southern gentleman in the first film, and the quite similar role played by Rock Hudson in the second, both men sparked recognition in my soul. Entire scenes seemed to trigger a sense of deja vu in my mind whenever they were on screen, and I am now pretty certain I must have encountered both films in my childhood. I have said before that it is unusual for me not to remember a film that I saw in my youth, as I am crazily connected to cinema as my chief means of true escape from the world. However, I did not really come fully into that sense until I was around thirteen or so, and I also did not really start paying attention to the western as a genre of interest for myself until even later. I remember numerous Wayne westerns fondly from those days, but these two were apparently not amongst them. However, since I pretty much enjoyed both films equally and felt that pull of recognition, now I am not so sure. There must be more cinema buried in my head from that time than I first thought.

The Numbers: 

This week's feature-length film count: 21; 14 first-time viewings and 7 repeats.
Highest rated feature-length film: Fort Apache (1948) – 9/9
Lowest rated feature film: Jem and the Holograms (2015) – 4/9
Average films per day in June so far: 3.10
Average films per day in 2017 so far: 3.05
Consecutive days with at least 1 feature-length film seen per day: 198

The Reviews:

Jem and the Holograms (2015) Dir.: John M. Chu – Am I wasting my time even writing about this film? Probably. Most people aren't going to bother trying to watch it, and honestly, except for the fact that I was passing by HBO one day and ran into it just as it started, I most likely would have never even though about it. But I do remember the cartoon show from the '80s, even if I only saw it once or twice, and so I did have a passing interest in wondering how they would adapt it for today. I needn't have bothered. This film is not the cartoon show at all. Sure, there is still a story about an up and coming pop-rock band, but most of the sci-fi trappings from the show, where the lead singer wears a pair of earrings that connect to a robot that creates a holographic persona that disguises her true self from the public, are missing here. There is still a really stupid robot, but all he does is trigger... a scavenger hunt! And there is a mystery in the film, but all it does is lead to... a pair of earrings that her dad left her but which never set off a helpful disguising hologram. If the film is just setting us up for a sequel where the original concept from the toy-selling show is actually used, it pays terrible service to it by, at the very least, ending with those elements fully in play. It's a shame, because the film does have some true style to it in the costuming and the cinematography, and the dramatic parts were actually played fairly well by the mostly young cast. Even Juliette Lewis is kind of fun in the evil manager role of Erica Raymond (the original character was named Eric), but wasted by film's end. I also didn't mind some of the music even most of it was fairly rote. I know the show was pretty much junk but it has some devoted fans, and I am sorry they weren't treated better by this film. – TC4P Rating: 4/9

Eat That Question: Frank Zappa in His Own Words (2016) Dir.: Thorsten Schütte – Sure, I get it... Zappa isn't for everyone. Zappa wouldn't give a shit whether you liked him or not. That's kind of the thing with him. You either got his music or you didn't, and even if you did, he probably didn't really care. He was going to create music whether you were around to hear it or not. For me (and for many people), Zappa fandom for me has been a "warts 'n all" affair; there is a lot about the man's character (and some lyrical elements of his music) that I may (depending on the day) find misogynistic, homophobic, politically suspect (his negative attitudes towards unions), and downright racist on a surface glance. (You should note that I did not say "obscene"; I find nothing in this world obscene except for our current president and his cronies...) But each negative element was usually counter-balanced by often gorgeous melodies, a high level of instrumental aptitude, and satirical jabs that could be devastating in their ability to cut deeply to the core of the issue. It's the satirical element that is Zappa's saving grace in regards to charges of the crimes above, as it can be argued that each outrageous negative portrayal of certain societal groups was meant to provoke the listener into paying attention (though sometimes just to sell a juvenile joke or two). But don't get me wrong: my intense regard for Zappa's craft does not mean I love him without limits; there are moments where he does get to my own personal sense of morality. But rather than cast him aside, it just makes me want to understand him more.

Eat That Question is going to allow you to fully understand Zappa far less than owning more than 90 albums of the man's work (as I do) is going to allow for closure, but it will give you a sense of Zappa's place in entertainment and the culture of his time. It consists mainly of news clips, film clips, videos, slices of interviews and live performances, and other various Zappa ephemera, all arranged in mostly chronological order to allow for historical context. It carries right up to his death in 1993 from prostate cancer. The documentary, however unintentional, all ties in perfectly with Zappa's "conceptual continuity," where each element of his music and art, and even outside interviews, were as integral to his overall narrative as the rest. Most of his albums are each connected to the rest by recurring motifs, self-referential in-jokes, and connecting musical phrases or call-outs to previous material. Obscure characters from far older songs may suddenly burst back to life in the middle of an unrelated piece, as if dropping by for tea. Even watching many of these old clips brings his music to life – especially to a long-time fan – which is further proof that as long as the man's legend continues to bring fascination (there are numerous Zappa docs already), his music will never die. (However much his son Ahmet wants to chain it up... sorry, taking Dweezil's
side in that battle...)  – TC4P Rating: 8/9

Morgan (2016) Dir.: Luke Scott – Forgive me if I kept flashing on the superior techno-horror flick Splice from a few years back while watching Morgan. Once again, we have a genetic engineering company operating in a highly creepy fashion in a remote lab with human hybrids that age rapidly, when one of their experiments not only goes well beyond what they had envisioned, but also escapes. Unlike Splice, things are kept mostly at the human level here as far as mutations are concerned... well, human-looking but definitely super-powered. No wings sprouting out of the back here. Kate Mara plays a risk management specialist tasked with keeping things under wraps when things start to get out of hand at the lab (pre-escape) and with tracking down the hybrid girl afterward. The real remoteness of the lab surrounded by forest (filmed in Northern Island) also brings to mind some similar scenes in Ex Machina (Norway, standing in for my home state of Alaska in that one), though the intellectual head games of the latter film are not to be found here in Morgan, which survives mainly on pure action. There is a big twist in the plot here, which I will not reveal, but it somehow came off as being both pretty obvious and weirdly satisfying at the same time. Not sure how it happened, but it ended up being my favorite part of the film. Apart from that though, while Mara is good in her role, the film is just OK. And now all I want to do is watch Splice again. – TC4P Rating: 5/9

If You're Not in the Obit, Eat Breakfast (2017) Dir.: Danny Gold – For the last few years, I have found it quite amusing and fascinating that the great Carl Reiner, now 95 years of age, has taken so well to adopting social media. I am not surprised to hear when someone's older parents (including mine) are always on the computers or their iPhones, or emailing or playing games. I know it used to be a running joke about the elderly not being able to connect a VCR or getting lost trying to get on a computer, but those days really are past. The elderly today were only a short while ago using those VCRs and computers, and thus, we have an advanced age population who are more comfortable with succeeding technologies, especially as the ease of general use of these products opens up further. In the Reiner-hosted If You're Not in the Obit, Eat Breakfast, the filmmakers gather the collective thoughts of numerous celebrities above or around the 90-year mark and have them muse about life. Reiner's longtime friend and sometimes partner Mel Brooks is here, as well as Kirk Douglas, Tony Bennett, Norman Lear, Dick Van Dyke, Stan Lee, Betty White, Dave Grusin, and many more. The chief thing you may notice amongst this group, and they discuss it at length, is that many of the participants are still quite actively creative in their lives. It's a lovely if not light documentary with some terrific performers in it telling us anecdotes about their careers and what keeps them going day to day. A charming show overall. – TC4P Rating: 7/9

Lawman (1971) Dir.: Michael Winner – This is yet another film that I am fairly certain I must have seen at some point in my childhood. It's not that I remember any scenes from it, but I was a big Burt Lancaster fan in my youth, and watched nearly anything he was in when I crossed its path. And the image of Lancaster as the aging bounty hunter who enters a small western town intent on bringing to justice a murderous gang of locals certainly registers with my catalogue of remembered images in my mind. He will not be swayed by his task – not by bribery, threats, gunfire, or the fact that his ex-lover is currently involved with one of the gang – and in the usual manner of these affairs, very few in the town are willing to lend even casual assistance to him, thinking more of themselves than of the common good. Lancaster is as tough as usual here, if not a little more one-note than I would prefer, and he has a terrific supporting cast behind him: Robert Ryan, Robert Duvall, Albert Salmi, Lee J. Cobb, John Hillerman, Sheree North, Joseph Wiseman, John Beck, Ralph Waite, and in his very first big screen role, Richard "Logan's Run" Jordan. Director Michael Winner would make a western the following year with Charles Bronson called Chato's Land, and then Winner and Bronson would move to the present day with the original The Mechanic. Both were three years away from making their biggest splash with the all-time, bona fide revenge classic, Death Wish. While it is easy to use hindsight to make connections that may or may not have been intentional, it is not hard while watching Lawman to squint a little bit – to eliminate the genre trappings of the western – and see the same style of tough guy in those films captured here on the screen with Lancaster. Lawman didn't pay off as much as I had hoped, which might be why it didn't stick with me if indeed I did see it as a kid, but it is still a strong enough '70s western to warrant a second look... if it wasn't my second one already. – TC4P Rating: 6/9

You Get Me (2017) Dir.: Brent Bonacorso – Oh, the dangers of trying to keep up – even ever so briefly – with the latest original films on Netflix. Sometimes, the results are just dandy, but more often, as it is with all things, you end having dabbled in the mediocre for 90 minutes. So, bright and early one morning, looking for a relatively short film to fill a gap in time, I went with You Get Me. I will admit that I chose You Get Me solely because the poster had a pretty girl in a blue bikini floating in a swimming pool on it. (Blue, especially in lighter tones, is a trigger color for me.) So, yeah... you can call me a perv. I let my guard down and I paid for it. In the film, a dopey high school senior breaks up with his girlfriend (Halston Sage) at a party, gets really drunk, and then leaves the party with a hottie (Bella Thorne, kind of an "it" girl right now). From there, it is nothing more than Fatal Attraction with millennial teens (and sans boiled bunny, thankfully). The girls are cute but bland, the boys are the usual dopes that boys are, every succeeding plot twinge is ever more unbelievable, and my interest wore off after the swimming pool scene. If things with both the girls and the movie had gone more into the area of Wild Things (a far better if not equally unbelievable film), then I might have forgiven You Get Me. And I learned that just because Netflix has a new original film on there every fourteen minutes, I don't need to pursue watching all of them. – TC4P Rating: 5/9

A Cult of My Own: Maria Bamford

I know she is an acquired taste. I know some people don't like the weird noises she makes. I know some people don't like the zillion voices she uses. But Maria Bamford makes me laugh in ways that no other comedian does. Her comedy seems so deeply personal that if you were not exposed to her previously, you may well wonder where the artist meets her material. 

Bamford's complicated history with bipolar disorder, depression and OCD informs her act, which can go from refreshingly innocent to starkly confessional and back again in mere seconds. The bleakness and dysfunction that hangs heavily over some of her comedy might be a little much for some people, but I find her absolutely refreshing. The uneasiness (somehow both hand-crafted and sincere at the same time), her frequent use of non-sequiturs, and the "just where is she going?" mood to some of her bits makes watching her anytime a delight. 

It's not in the Andy Kaufman way, however, where you would wonder just what the hell crazy thing he was going to try and pull off each time. Kaufman had issues, certainly, but most of his stunts were planned well in advance, and the main goal was to shock his audiences not to make them laugh. The ability to shock was his main weapon, and his routines pretty much lived and died by it. Bamford's act is purer, and mostly consists of a singularly talented woman alone with a microphone and her cavalcade of personas, accents and noises. Lucky for you and her, she comes complete with some marvelously twisted though funny material that almost always keeps you guessing. 

Bamford also likes to mess with the established comedy hour format. In a previous special – actually called The Special Special Special – she did her entire act for only her own parents, even giving them bathroom breaks and snacks in between short sets. It's not all cutesy though... the unease she unleashes with some of her sharper, darker jokes, which veer directly towards her parents at times – they are the source of much of her anxiety, after all – is meant to throw both you and them off-balance, but her actions also somehow never felt purposefully mean, just therapeutic, and ultimately loving, in her way.

At a few points in Bamford's latest Netflix special, Old Baby (in which she progresses from testing her stand-up act with one person in a living room to people sitting on a bench on a street to a small bowling alley crowd to an intimate stage setting), she breaks to also hawk her own merchandise (which she says at one point is completely free) from a small table to her various audiences. In selling pencils to benefit the psychiatric hospital in her hometown – she says her mom "worked there AND stayed there" – she shows that the pencil has "the word HOPE on this side... so you can GRIND DOWN HOPE... verrry slowly."

Yeah, I get that. Been there, felt that... occasionally still there and feeling that. Speak to me, Maria... in all your voices.

Nothing the Public Enjoys More Than a Little Iron Fisting...

Yes, Marvel's quickly upcoming Iron Fist series is getting an early critical drubbing from pop culture and nerd sites all over the interwebs (the reviews are based on the first six episodes), but that in no way is going to keep me from hitting Netflix as early as possible this Friday to see the show for myself.

On a personal level, if they were going to concentrate on a pure martial arts series (though it is hard to say that Daredevil isn't really already such a creation), I would have preferred that Marvel do an adaptation of Shang-Chi, Master of Kung Fu (with or without the Sax Rohmer characters from the Fu Manchu books, part of the original Shang Chi series). Who knows? Shang-Chi has been shown to be a friend of Danny Rand's in recent years, so maybe he will pop up in a cameo in the future.

But, I also recognize that as goes Luke Cage, so goes Danny Rand (as well as Misty Knight and Colleen Wing). Since Luke has his own series, it is a natural to have Power Man and Iron Fist together eventually (even if it is in The Defenders, where Iron Fist was only a member for a day in the '70s comic, while both were members of the Secret Defenders in briefly in the mid-'90s.)

If we must go through a new series that is not quite as good as the other Marvel Netflix series that preceded it, then so be it. The bar has already been set so high with the preceding series that it was only going to be a matter of time before something that was still pretty excellent was going to get a thrashing from the public for not being totally excellent. Though I am hoping that it turns out that I end up personally enjoying Iron Fist, and thus will be able to tell the rest of the critical world to screw off...

Random Abode Monsters & Spookage #5: Monsters from the Universal Backlog, Pt. 1

Not a lot of time tonight. Two movies I need to cram in now since I have to write a piece for work in the morning (and hopefully not much beyond that). Can't miss the mail pickup in the late a.m.; otherwise I won't maximize my Netflix rentals before Halloween.

So, here is what you get tonight: a couple of official Universal Monster sliding puzzles, copyrighted 1991. Universal had a big push on their famous creations that year. I remember Doritos stickers, soda box designs, and a vast array of toys, some decent and some, like these puzzles, really annoying to use.

Here's a tip next time you think about making a sliding puzzle game. Slightly round the corners of your pieces in order to ease the user's ability to slide from slot to slot. These puzzles are swell to have, but man, I hate using them. It's the one time I would think about joining the villagers...

The 46x60 or So Project, Pt. 4: Getting A Party Started Which Has Already Begun...

I have called it quits. The building of The 46x60 or So Project: Roughly 5000 Films from 1964-Present is over. Well, at least, 99% of it is...

As of today, not counting 2009, which will not be finished until after the awards get announced early next year, from 1964 through 2008, these are the stats:

• Total Films on List: 4966
• Total Films Not on DVD: 1372 (27.62%)
• Total Films on List Seen Since April 2005: 725 (14.59%)
• Total Films Left to See: 2869 (57.77%) 
• Average Films Per Year: 110.35 
• Biggest Year 1964-1969: 1964 - 101 films 
• Biggest Year 1970-1979: 1973 & 1974 - 108 films each 
• Biggest Year 1980-1989: 1987 - 127 films 
• Biggest Year 1990-1999: 1996 - 139 films 
• Biggest Year 2000-2009: 2006 & 2007 - 144 films each

It seems like an awful lot of movies to watch, and it is. But, it is not so out of bounds as you might think.

Here's one way to think about it: Say you are an average person, and that you rent five movies a week from your local Blockhead-Buster. You watch maybe one a night here and there, maybe skipping a night or three, and cramming a couple of films into one night. The renting of the film and the watching of it are a casual habit, something you do to cool off or something you and the wife or the kids do before bed. You don't really notice the pattern you have created; you just do it, almost by rote, sometimes with a yawn. Likewise, you never really think about how these films accumulate. You don't keep lists, and you are on what you believe is an erratic schedule, but the truth is you are averaging just over 250 films a year. 

And, in four years time, without your realizing it, you have watched over 1000 films.

Everyone has seen far more films than they think they have during their lifetime, in the same way that someone (and nearly everyone does) who insists they watch very little television is most likely lying straight through their McDonald's-fattened, hypocritical ass.

Those statistics of mine listed above, and the accomplishment of this seemingly ceaseless climb, are not so impossible. Since I tend to average over 1.5 films a day throughout the year, balancing out my low periods with massive marathons, it will probably take me a lot less time than you would surmise. After all, going by my rule of counting films I have seen up to four years ago (and this rule is basically so I can count more recent films that I have little interest in seeing this soon again), I am nearly at 15% seen already. As of this evening, since September 30th, I have watched 84 films over the past 52 days, just over the average I stated, and most of these films are on my list. Since I started four months ago, I have watched over 50 of the films in each of the years 1964, 1965 and 1966 already (less than 20 to watch in each year too), and I am well on my way there for 1967 as well. Once you get going, and just watch the films, things really get swingin'...

The worrying part of the list is the massive amount of films not on DVD at all. Where they are available online, such as on Crackle, Amazon Video on Demand (where there is nominal rental fee) or IMDb, I will take pains to watch them there. It just amazes me, since many of these are fairly acclaimed and even award-winning or at least nominated films, that they would be so absent from current view. I know it is all about commerce and what will sell, but in this day and age, where Warner Archives has started up what seems like such a noteworthy achievement in locating audiences for more obscure films (where they only commit the film to disc upon your purchase, allowing them to release many films that would normally languish in the vaults), you would think every studio would pick up on this and realize there is some solid money to be made on any film ever released.

Perhaps that is the wave of the near future, but for now, I have Turner Classic Movies at my rescue for many of them. Just tonight, I am being afforded the opportunity to see two of the films on my Not on DVD list within the project, 1964's One Potato, Two Potato and 1970's The Landlord, on TCM. This is where the importance of creating this list truly comes together for me. For many years now, I have led a fairly organic movie existence, doing what I call "The Bounce." Apart from small obsessions with certain lists of films I needed to see, for the most part, I have just let myself be led my own instincts into watching what crossed my path. It could be an article on a historical event that leads me to a filmic portrayal of the situation that leads me to another movie by the same director or star, and then when I am searching for one title I happen upon another that seems interesting, going through TV listings straight down and recording any film that might be worthwhile... etc., etc. Fairly nomadic. No real direction except in seeking out interesting films. It is "The Bounce" though, that partially got me to the point of building this Tower of Film, a need to focus on something that could potentially teach me more than the way I had been proceeding. And yet, I can still use the form of "The Bounce" to aid me in seeking out the films missing on disc. Which is how I noticed One Potato, Two Potato, which led me next to The Landlord tonight. 

The ultimate point is that I now that focus. I have, in the course of the past four months of intimacy with the list, so memorized its contents that I can see any list of films and tell you with about 80% certainty whether I need to see the film or not. And the list will not end. For as long as I am working on going through it, I am going to add to it. As I said much earlier in this ongoing piece, I might decide to add films from other festivals to it at some point. I might find another book or list with some other interesting films that I will wish to attach to the project. And, of course, as I am progressing, each new year will have to be appended. 2009 will add another 120 films or so to the project alone, and it is not out of sight to believe it could approach 6000 films before I am done.

You see, that is where I am now, deep in the throes of movie ecstasy, seeing every film released throughout my lifetime that I have ignored, not heard of, or just mocked without ever having any real knowledge about it. I will see The Last Detail at last, and I will be able to converse freely and truthfully about it. I am absolutely committed to seeing myself reach the summit of this Tower of Film ultimately.

If I stay alive, that is...

-FIN-

The 46x60 or So Project, Pt. 2: It's a Tower Built to the Heavens. What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

The foundation was built, and it seemed like a decent enough place already to just skip building the new couple of floors, planting an aerial, and calling it a home. The list had already taken me about a month to create, and in my excitement, I had already started watching films in earnest. The first film I watched under the sway of this fresh delirium was 1965's Sean Connery army prison flick, The Hill, directed in truly brutal fashion by Sidney Lumet. If I had started going through the multitude of films on my list by encountering a true dud (and not one where I went in expecting vileness), I may have given up the entire project then and there. But The Hill so captured my attention that I knew straight off I had made the right choice.

But, the list itself did not seem robust enough to me. There were still films that I loved missing from the list, and films I had always wanted to see which were not appearing yet. I began to think about what was influential in the mid-60s. in the dawning of my youth, and it didn't take me long to figure out where to find a major dose of relief: the Cannes Film Festival. Yeah, yeah, ugly Americans, hate the French all you want. Myself, I don't hate them, not even for easy comedic stereotyping. I love watching their films (equally as much as I love watching films from all over the world), and I love how purely they (as a nation) used to commit themselves to cinema. And yes, there are other major film festivals out there from which I could have chosen to cull more choices for my Tower of Film, but how many are as famous or as influential for such a long time as Cannes? Unlike most other festivals, except perhaps Sundance, Cannes still makes the news every single year, perhaps more now for the antics that take place there more and more than for actual film presentation. But, Cannes still looms large in the international cultural atmosphere. And, speaking solely of a certain period in time, how can one such as I deny its mix of foreign releases from nearly every corner of the world?

It was a natural for me, and so I started adding Cannes years to the list. This took far longer than I had anticipated, considering that I tend to format as I go along and I wanted things to be as perfect as possible. (Again, that possible OCD kicking in...) Cannes added a huge amount to each year, sometimes 30-40 more films, sometimes even more. I didn't take just "in competition" films, but outside award winners, "out of competition" films, and all of the films in the multitude of Cannes' special categories of which they seem to be so fond. The list truly began to bulge to elephantine proportions, and I actually did start to worry about whether I would be able to see even half of these films in my lifetime. (More on that later...)

While I was zipping through each year of Cannes, I started another side project: queuing all of the available films up on Netflix, or marking whether I owned the films or had already seen them. Because I wanted the list to remain fresh, I had to decide on a cut-off date for where I would consider my current critical decree valid to the purposes of the list. I decided to choose the moment of my arrival from Alaska into California, which was when I started writing, reconsidering my film philosophy, and critiquing full-time: April 2005.

Any film that I had seen since that date and of which I still had decent recall could be marked as "SEEN" on the list, unless I truly wished to watch it again even in the midst of thousands of other films. (Surprisingly, in many cases, I chose to go this route, if only because it would probably be a while until I encountered them as I went through the list.) This enabled me to check off many of the films I had seen in the past four years, even in the last six months. (I chose to make the current year more of a checklist of everything I had seen within 2009, to keep it fresh and because we won't know the Oscar nominees for a couple of months yet.)

However, as I went through Netflix, looking up every single film, I ran into far more films turning out to be unavailable than I thought. Some of the missing films weren't just relative obscurities either, but Oscar nominees, and occasionally, an actual Oscar winner. And by adding the Cannes lists, largely composed of films of foreign extract (most, but not all, more popular Hollywood films tend to get shown out of competition, if they showed up at all), the problem got even worse, with each year's list (now grown to around 60-75 films per year) ending up with a range between 20-25 films per year unavailable. Not just unavailable on Netflix (which is actually surprisingly robust in its catalogue), but not even for purchase on Amazon. With so many of the foreign films not even available in their home countries, I realized that I needed to rethink my goals in this endeavor, as it was becoming very clear that a solid quarter of my ultimate list would be unattainable towards the completion of my new project.

[To be continued in The 46x60 or So Project, Pt. 3: Things Start to Get a Little Wonky...]

Psychotronic Ketchup: Blood Creatures or Male Terrors?

Terror is a Man aka Blood Creature (1959)
Dir.: Gerardo de Leon and Eddie Romero

TC4P Rating: 5/9

Sure, a lot of very good work has been done in alerting everyone to the death and destruction that land mines, laid down from the wars of previous or even current generations, cause around the world. But, no one – I repeat, NO ONE – has lifted one finger (at least, one of those fingers that they have left) to rid the world of alternate video titles. 

There you are, clicking innocently on a title on your Netflix queue, happily zipping through your list and adding a title which you believe you have never seen before. Sure, it sounds familiar – exceedingly so – but you click on it anyway. When the DVD arrives, you pop it in your player, and when the opening credits splat up on the screen, you still don't know what you are about to see, because the title matches the one on the case (and the one on the website). And then, once the movie kicks in, the slow, creeping suspicion builds inside your mind that you have seen this shitty film before. And by the time the hot Filipino girl in the simply too tight, flowered sarong gets left behind by her fellow villagers (who have smartly taken to safety across the seas in their canoes, but have not too smartly left behind a hot Filipino girl in a simply too tight, flowered sarong), you realize that, yes, indeed, you have seen this before. Only the film had a completely different title the first time you saw it. And then you hit rewind to watch the hot Filipino in the simply too tight, flowered sarong again.

It's a horrid problem, and one that cannot be fixed without your help... and without the generous help of your cash, check, or money order to this address...

Actually, it's not that horrid a problem. I merely slipped a bit and didn't notice the alternate title line in my copy of The Psychotronic Encyclopedia of Film. The fake title in question is Blood Creature, and the title by which I know it (and one which I find far more poetic) is Terror Is a Man. Generally considered to be the first of the wave of increasingly atrocious horror films from the Philippine Islands through the 1960s and 1970s, though I have yet to seen any other than this film, Terror is a Man and/or Blood Creature is actually not too bad a film. In fact, I've actually seen this a handful of times in the past, and even had a copy recorded off Cinemax from years earlier. Seriously, if there is a problem that equals land mines in the horror movie world, then it is probably the proliferation of mad scientists on remote islands or in remote castles who experiment on animals, methodically switching their species from that of some already dangerous predator, like a tiger or bear, or in the case of this particular Dr. Moreau acolyte, a panther, into an even more dangerous predator: man.

Not just any panther, but a panther that, when wrapped in bandages, has two very cute little ears on top of his head, two adorable little fangs shooting down from his mouth, and, as George Carlin describes the whiskers on a cat, "a lot of crazy-looking shit sticking out of his face!" Aww, he's almost too, too adorable to be devouring people on the island. But he does, and with increasing regularity. Aww, wook at him! He's just so cute! Wook at his widdle eaws! Fuckin' ow! Little shit bit my finger off! 

While the film is no great shakes as entertainment, and is, in fact, quite boring going in, the last half hour is fairly effective, and what the film does well is invoke the memory of earlier, better Universal horrors, and then crossing it, probably unintentionally, with a little Tennessee Williams-like spousal drama. There are a number of well-composed shots, and the climax is particularly memorable. While the "heroine", the wife of the mad scientist, is quite voluptuous and allows the shadows of raindrops to drip over her nose most seductively, the "hero", a lost-at-sea (in more ways than one) muscular schmo, decides to focus on the married white girl instead of on the hot Filipino girl in the simply too tight, flowered sarong who has been left behind on the island. It's all about choices, Mac… you chose wrong. As for the film, while the film won't replace Island of Lost Souls in quality, or even the 1977 version of Island of Dr. Moreau, it is fleetingly effective, and not all that harmful to run into, even under an assumed name.

Werewolf in a Girls' Dormitory (1961)

Dir.: Paolo Heusch

TC4P Rating: 3/9

A film that nobody is going to mistake for another more decent film is Werewolf in a Girls' Dormitory, an Italian-Austrian co-production from 1961 that actually, looked at by its own merits, much like Terror Is A Man, isn’t all that bad overall. It’s just not good, nor very interesting. Halfway through it, I received a call on my cell from Jen, and I told her, “Just watching what is probably the worst werewolf movie I’ve seen since Underworld”. Which may or may not have been true (I had seen Cursed in this same period), but I should point out two things: 1) invoking Underworld was merely to give Jen an idea of the pain I was going through, since she would be quick to understand, and 2) by “worst,” I meant “most boring”, because at the point in which she called me, I was completing the taste of paint chips as a viable substitute to watching even another frame of this film.

It perked up a bit from that point, but the damage was done. Thing is, in a private school for wayward girls (all of whom seem to be refugees from a typing pool, most likely all chainsmokers and all between the ages of 23 to 28 years old), one would think it would be slightly more erotic than the dunderheaded murder mystery that it is. When I initially described the film to Jen, she thought I had rented myself some titty flick with a rampaging monster in it to disguise it from the porn it was. Then I told her it was from the early ‘60s. And she said “Ah…” and I heard the empathy in her voice. There is a rather fetching girl amongst the “young” ladies, who all sport either way too much makeup or not enough where they need it: the heroine, played by Barbara Lass, but her looks are dashed a smidgen by the fact that her head is weirdly big for her body. (Then again, as I said, I had just seen Cursed, and that had Christina Ricci in it. But then again and again, I love Christina Ricci and her abnormally large head…)

Barbara bobble-heads her way through woods which are not so much filled with killer wolves, but instead with an endless loop of howling that is meant to tell us the killer wolves are simply there. There is so much howling, in fact, that after a while I started to not consider the wolves any sort of threat – I sometimes go to Chivas USA soccer games where the muy loco fans sport long plastic tubes that they blow into as horns. The bull-like bellowing that emits from the far end is intensely annoying through the first half of the game; after a personal refreshment at half-time, the noise becomes like so much traffic: it’s there, it’s polluting your ears, but you have grown accustomed to it. You don’t notice it at all until you get home, and once it’s ringing goes away, you kind of miss it. So, too, went the howling of the wolves; I stopped paying attention to it, and once it was gone from my notice, I started to long for the threat that it once seemed in the film.

Because the film squarely needs any sort of threat, the lame excuse for a werewolf it does offer will not suffice in this instance. Even Teen Wolf was scarier than this ponce. He looks like Kevin McDonald playing Edward Tudor-Pole in a straight-to-video remake of Absolute Beginners. A decent lycanthrope might have turned the tide in the film’s favor. After all the boredom and creepy woman-girls and big-headed Nancy Drews inhabiting the film, a downright frightening wolfman might have still made for a worthwhile payoff. Instead, we only get some halfway decent stabs at atmosphere, a dislocated opening theme song titled A Ghoul In School that would seem kind of fun if it were actually in I Was A Teenage Werewolf instead, and a surprisingly listenable score. But then you feast your eyes on a werewolf that could be outdone by an six-year-old with a fistful of cat hair and a tube of airplane glue, and you shake your head.

I didn’t even mention the German shepherd dog that actually serves as the most interesting character in the film. And despite the assumed presence of wolves, he is clearly supposed to portray a dog.

But he goes by the name of "Wolf" in the film.

I am so confused now.

I don't know if this is an appellation that is only found in the translation, or if the filmmakers meant this, but once your film takes one too many turns in on its own logic like that... well, that's a landmine that you cannot avoid...

RTJ

[This review was edited and updated with new photos on 11/14/2016.]

RECENTLY RATED MOVIES #28: GOJIRA

True to form, I am spending every spare moment (which would be those where I am either not with Jen or engaging in writing projects) making my way through a monstrous stack of DVDs and an equally impressive lineup of flicks on my DVR. Many of these saved films came from a surprising source: The Sundance Channel, where a late night program of Japanese, Korean and Hong Kong horror movies, titled in typical "hip" marketing style as Asia Extreme, has provided me with a most interesting though slightly disturbing look into another world. My discovery of the show is mere timely fortuitousness; I can get any of these movies easily enough through Netflix, but since I am only registered to rent four titles at once, this means it takes a bit to get near certain titles on my list. The Korean titles are definitely the ones with which I am having the most trouble philosophically, particularly where the rights of prostitutes and the abandonment of teenage daughters who stumble into prostitution are concerned. These film make the Koreans seem about as obsessed with women of easy virtue as the Japanese seem to be with wig-bedecked girl ghosts and kaiju-suited union actors. I know its most likely not the case, but it is very easy to type a culture from the films that make it across their borders. I know that there has been a flood of Korean films lately that aren't of the horror or prostitute-torture-and-rape genre, and some that have been praised to a high degree, and I look forward to seeing what else the country has to offer in the way of cinema. I am certain much of it is very rich and expansive in tone and deserving of a deeper peek. Eventually, I may reach these films in my queue.

But not until well after October. This month, as always, consists of a concentration of matters macabre, and this effort will be aided by the arrival of a couple of prime DVD releases, of which I shall post more information in the next couple days once I actually view the damned things. Of prime importance to me, though, has been the release to DVD about a fortnight ago of the original Japanese version of the first official kaiju flick, which was redubbed and recut with additional Raymond Burr footage into an haphazard amalgamation known as Godzilla, King of the Monsters. While I have seen the Americanized version about three dozen times throughout my life, the Japanese version titled Gojira, which features a half-hour of previously unseen footage (at least, unseen in this deprived country) has eluded me to this point.

Watching the real film for the first time was an incredible revelation. Unlike the multitude of ever-cheesier (though fun) followups, the original film was filmed in black and white, and features a philosophical viewpoint nearly as dark as the film's atmosphere. Deftly filmed and remarkably subtle shots of the monster's footprints left in its aftermath help serve up a ever-growing sense of doom until the monster finally appears, and with each subsequent appearance of the creature, the ferocity of its attacks grow ever more intense, until Tokyo is left looking like Hiroshima after the A-bomb. This is precisely the point. That Gojira is revived by hydrogen bomb testing (and by the Americans no less, though the filmmakers seem to hold a complacent Japanese populace largely to blame as well) is a dramatic stab at guerrilla politics that allows this superior effort to rise at least the size of three Gojiras above the rest of the kaiju pack.

And while, surprisingly, I am not really a fan of DVD commentaries, except in very rare instances, the spate of information provided by the pair of Godzilla fanboys on the extra track is actually unbelievably rich in detail and depth. Additionally, while you don't want to do the whole cover-judging cliche, this DVD comes wrapped in what I consider to be one of the most attractive package designs that I have seen thus far for a DVD. Since it displays merely the grimacing image of a monstrous black-and-white Godzilla, this is no small feat. An additional bonus is that two more Godzilla films, the rushed sequel Godzilla Raids Again and the quite enjoyable monster mash Mothra Vs. Godzilla are being released in the same pristine format in about three weeks. Part of the Toho Master Collection, the DVDs, like Gojira, will feature both the Japanese and American release versions of the films and will have commentaries, likely from the same two overly informed geeks. Outside of seeing the original films in their theatrical heyday, has there ever been a better time to be a Godzilla freak?

Oh, and, if you haven't, go see The Illusionist. A film this delightful needs an audience.

The List: The Illusionist (2006) - 8; Crank (2006) - 5; Huo Yuan Jia [Jet Li's Fearless] (2006) - 7; Murders In the Rue Morgue (1932, TCM) - 6; Honogurai mizu no sok [Dark Water (2002, Sundance) - 7; Nabbeun namja [Bad Guy] (2001, Sundance) - 6; Samaria (Samaritan Girl) (2004, Sundance) - 6; Gojira (1954, DVD) - 7; Ju-On (2000, DVD) - 7; Dr. Cyclops (1940, TCM) - 6; Kyuketsuki Gokemidoro [Goke, Body Snatcher from Hell] (1968, TCM) - 7; Paycheck (2003, DVD) - 5; Un Flic (1971, DVD) - 8; Finding Neverland (2004, DVD) - 7; Dead or Alive: Hanzaisha (1999, DVD) - 6; Shogun Assassin (1980, DVD) - 7.

Succumbing to Netflix-iation

Once I moved here, and once the dread of actually finding a new video store to attend and battle over other customers for the lone copy of this or that piece of crap overtook me, I took it upon myself to finally became a customer of Netflix. I had been wanting to do this for awhile, and the fact that there was a relatively close Netflix center nearby in Santa Ana, which cut down considerably on the turnaround and transport time (as opposed to postal delivery to and from Alaska, which isn't bad, but nothing like living down the road a short piece from something) was definitely a boon to the positive resolution of such a decision.

Now, I have had nothing but a positive experience thus far with Netflix. No, the problem that I ran into had nothing to do with Netflix directly. The fault lies with myself, and with my rather lax attitude toward my queue on their website. I tend to do things like this in rather large batches, so I will click on a samurai movie, and a thousand recommendations for other samurai or Japanese flicks will pop up, and I will click on all of them, whether I have seen them before or not. The films pile up in the order that I click them, but before I can arrange them in some order of preference, I am distracted by some other genre that I simply must add to my list.

Normally, this is not a problem. Since I am so resolutely lax in my queue maintenance, I have come to accept whatever DVD shows up in the mail, and watch it without regretting the appearance of one of the other films on my list. However, I then ran into the "Great Halloween Problem". That is, while I have a good many horror and sci-fi flicks in my queue, I didn't have any of them at the top to coincide with late October. As a result, I hit the mother lode of French New Wave films in the last couple of weeks, clicked on when I went off on one of my "I need to see that again!" tangents, and which were then received in a period where I really had no inclination at all to watch them. Truffaut and Godard are fine in the waning weeks of March, but not in the ghoul-haunted woodland of 'Tober.

I did watch the first batch (and rated and posted their scores, appropriately). It seems that it would be a bit strange hopping from Breathless to Cat People, but it was actually not that weird, and you can almost make the case that Val Lewton shook things up just as much with his films in the early '40s as the French boys did in their time. So there are parallels to be made if you wanted to make a study of it... which I don't.

For now, I am stuck with another fistful of French films for this weekend, two which I have seen before and one that I have never seen (Shoot the Piano Player). And I did go on Netflix in the middle of writing this and gave that queue of mine a good, solid shaking and cleaning up, as there were many films that I have seen already elsewhere in the interim since I set the damned thing up.

Of course, I then ran into a film on Netflix that I hadn't seen yet, and ended up clicking indiscriminately on about thirty more films, and I will probably end up with the same situation again in a couple months. 

And so it goes...