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

Hidden Underground (in Plain Sight)

I have owned a copy of The Hidden, Jack Sholder's sci-fi action classic (yes, I said it), since it first came out on VHS not long after its theatrical release in 1987. Watched that tape dozens of times, leading to a need to replace it eventually, and then I did an upgrade to the film when it came out on DVD years ago.

As much as I have seen The Hidden though, and even though I still own a copy, I feel that when a channel like Turner Classic Movies decides to show such a film on their TCM Underground slot late on Saturday nights, that I should do my part to support their decision to air it. So, even though I own The Hidden, I recorded it last night (they paired it with director Mike Hodges' 1974 take on Michael Crichton's novel, The Terminal Man) and watched it this afternoon, to give its showing whatever minute smidgen of ratings percentage that I can to tell TCM that I love it when they show films like this.

It's for the same reason that I watch the Universal classics on Svengoolie’s show as frequently as possible, even if he does chop the films up with commercial breaks. It's why I have followed Elvira through her various show incarnations over the last 35 years. Or the same reason I threw in my small support for MST3K's eventual return this year. And every once in a while, I will even scout the public access channels and find locals who have produced their own variations on horror host shows. Most are terrible What can I say? I have a lifelong fondness for sci-fi, horror, and exploitation films, and I especially love when airtime is committed to showcasing them on television (and now online).

Sadly, TCM Underground has not been hosted for quite some time. Rob Zombie was the original host, but that apparently went over like a lead balloon, and so TCM just shows a couple of genre films back to back with a neat lead-in sequence. The natural fit for TCM Underground would be somebody like Joe Bob Briggs, though I doubt they have any plans to bring a host back to the show. But, as long as TCM takes a small break every weekend from its normal fare (believe me, I watch an awful lot of that as well) and shows films like The Hidden, I will be there. Even if I do own the film already...

RTJ

Guillermo Del Toro: At Home with Monsters at LACMA 2016, Pt. 2

[Note: To read Part 1 of this post, please click here.]

As I mentioned last time, the primary focus of the Guillermo del Toro exhibition at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (aka LACMA) that we attended yesterday (Oct. 26, 2016) was naturally on the films and artwork of Mr. Del Toro himself. With the massive collection of props, costumes, storyboards, sketches, and fully realized figures representing his monsters and characters on display, how could it not be so?

But the secondary – though equally as important – focus was on his influences, a great many of which (if not the vast majority) also happen to be my influences as well, but Del Toro filters them through his quite remarkable talent and attention to detail that a high percentage of the time produces hauntingly memorable cinematic art for the world. Me, I just take those same influences and go, "Wow, that monster was pretty cool."

As before, much of the artwork and collection is to be found (normally, when they aren't on display in an exhibition at a museum) at Del Toro's Bleak House. If anyone ever needed an absolutely on the nose answer as to what I would do if I had the money to do whatever I wanted, taking a look at this exhibition is pretty much what you would get. Well, apart from the fact that I would also have a life-size Robby the Robot, a Batmobile, and the Robot from Lost in Space. But you get the gist. Del Toro's commissioned pieces include diorama featuring Harry Earles, Johnny Eck, and Schlitzie the pinhead from Tod Browning's horror classic Freaks, a scene showing Ray Harryhausen sitting comfortably in a chair (while wearing slippers) as he handles some of the models he created for his still astounding stop-motion animation features, Jack Pierce applying makeup to a seated Boris Karloff as they work on creating Frankenstein's Monster, and a fairly elaborate scenario featuring the Monster meeting his Bride while a catty Dr. Pretorius stands aloofly to the side. There was even an oversized lifelike bust of master makeup guru Dick Smith.

Dick Smith, makeup artist extraordinaire.

Frankenstein plays a major part in the exhibition. The head of Karloff's monster looms large over the entrance to the room containing many issues of comics and Famous Monsters of Filmland magazine, and there are numerous spots where paintings of the monster, original Berni Wrightson drawings from his acclaimed illustrated edition (which I still need to replace; note to myself), various editions of the book, and even a life mask of Boris Karloff from 1960 were on display.

Among the life-size figures were writers who count amongst Del Toro's favorites and influences, including (in totally expected fashion) Edgar Allan Poe and H.P. Lovecraft. There were also cases displaying the writings and books of Lord Dunsany, Charles Dickens, Andrew Lang, and many others. The case featuring Dickens also contained an assortment of spirit photographs from the mid-19th century, which proved to be one of the more unnerving displays for me, not so much for the supposed spirits contained in the photos but because they were deathbed images of real people.

Of course, Famous Monsters of Filmland and the other Warren Publications played a role in the exhibit. I was a little upset by the width of the box frame surrounding the issues because, in combination with the lighting from above, it served to create shadows on the top row of the comics and magazines making snapping a picture rather annoying. Scattered throughout the collection, I also found some pretty cool artwork from the Warren mags done by Richard Corben.

Of the vast amount of artwork on display in the exhibit, I was more than a little skittish about shooting photographs of it. I know they were fully allowing photos, but for whatever reason – and believe me, I was also a tad bit shy about taking the other photos – I was weirding out a little about taking pictures of paintings. Eventually, I overcame my shyness, but I really wish that I could go back and see all of them again. There was a fantastic Dave Cooper painting over which my brother Mark and I – seeing it at separate moments during the morning – each went equally gaga. I took a quick snap so I could reference it later and look up information on it, but the result was not clear or good enough to post here. I really wish to go back to check it out again.

Other shelves and cases revealed a vast number of interesting images and models. One case which held special interest for me contained several cast statues by Ray Harryhausen from his original designs, such as Talos from Jason and the Argonauts and the Ymir from 20 Million Miles to Earth. Most striking to me was a tableau showing Harryhausen at work filming a scene on his table in his garage. The same case also held the mask from Brian De Palma's The Phantom of the Paradise, and a truly strange marionette of Peter Cushing which went largely unexplained, but was fascinating nonetheless. Another case held various memorabilia from assorted vampire movies, such as Bram Stoker's Dracula, Del Toro's own Blade II, and Nosferatu.

Will I get back to the exhibit again before it closes on November 27? Time and money are against me, but I sure hope to find an opening. There was so much there, I really regretted it after I stepped out to get a snack with the rest of the family, because once I left, I could not get back into it. I could have easily done another hour in there, if not more. Short of getting a chance to work with Del Toro in his real Bleak House, it's the closest that I will get. Should the opportunity arise, I will go again.

RTJ

Guillermo Del Toro: At Home with Monsters at LACMA 2016, Pt. 1

The inside entrance to At Home with Monsters, guarded by the
Angel of Death from Hellboy II: The Golden Army.

It was a long enough wait, and October 29th finally rolled around today. My brother Mark, his wife Marci, and my teenage nephew (and burgeoning rock star) Aerin were in town from the north part of the state to join Jen and I at the Guillermo del Toro exhibition at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (aka LACMA). We had planned this excursion a few months earlier in July and I, like many horror and fantasy fans in the area, was just beyond waiting any longer to go see it.

Titled At Home with Monsters, the exhibition, curated by Mr. del Toro himself, was meant to do multiple things. First was to celebrate the art and films of the man himself; second, to pay tribute to the influences – from art to literature to cinematic or otherwise – that have influenced del Toro since his childhood days and straight through his remarkable career in film; and third, to give us a glimpse into what his inner sanctum is like, in this case, his home base (though it is not his actual home) in Los Angeles that he has named Bleak House after a favorite Dickens novel. (He has so much crammed into Bleak House, that he has a sequel house already called Bleak House 2.) Most of the contents of this exhibit, from paintings to sketches to models and even the life-sized statues of figures such as Edgar Allan Poe, H.P. Lovecraft, Frankenstein's Monster, and Johnny Eck (from Freaks) take up space in this place that also houses his working office, art studio, and research libraries.

I have decided to split this photo essay in two. This first part will feature photos of costumes, figures, and props related to Del Toro's own films; the second part will be exclusively devoted to objects in the exhibit portraying the wide range of influences on his talent and career.

The Faun from Pan's Labyrinth.

The Pale Man from Pan's Labyrinth.

In addition to the full-sized figures such as the characters above and below, many of the rooms had video screens on the walls that played montages (in loops) based around common themes in his work, such as Death and Resurrection, Monsters, or Beauty and Brutality. There were also several stations spread throughout the vast exhibit that allowed you to push buttons to select different pages that had been scanned from his working notebooks, to get a sense of how devoted he is to his craft at seemingly every moment of his life.

The Ghost of Edith's Mother from Crimson Peak.

An illuminated book created for Hellboy II: The Golden Army.

Insect paintings, sketches, and models in a section
mainly devoted to Mimic.

Costumes from Crimson Peak.

Weaponry and artifacts from the Hellboy films.

The Cronos Device (right) from Cronos.

Costume, weapon, and other pieces from the Hellboy films.

A wall-sized poster of a shot inside Del Toro's actual Bleak House.

Costumes from Pacific Rim.

An illuminated book from Pan's Labyrinth.

Pt. II, featuring some of Del Toro's major influences, will be posted tomorrow...

RTJ