Saw Not Quite Hollywood: The Wild, Untold Story of Ozploitation!(!!!?!), a documentary about the early days of filmmaking in Australia. Apparently there was a big push for native Australian film on the federal level, resulting in big tax breaks for filmmakers and therefore in a huge number of people making any kind of schlocky film because now it was profitable. Thank heaven because we get some truly crazy, insane, anarchic and fun films as a result.
It turns out I've seen a few of the films they talk about in this documentary. They bring up Turkey Shoot, Mad Max, and The Man from Hong Kong all of which I've seen and didn't particularly like. Don't get me wrong, I do like the fact that these films exist, I'm just not the target audience. Quentin Tarantino is which is why he appears throughout this documentary ("Fan" is listed under his name.) He claims the film are great lurid excesses that make you doubt what you're seeing. Maybe for him but for me I'm not much wowed by the brilliant cruelty toward women or the car-fetishism which so impresses him. I have my own weaknesses of course, just not for blood.
Anyway, the documentary is great fun. It plays rock music at you and covers the screen with Lichtenstein-esque blow-ups of posters and film frames, gobbing the image with GCI blood and collages as aging actors and directors burble excitedly about their films. It's infectious and makes me want to see more of their horrible art. And like I say, I would rather see an ambitious muddle than an expertly crafted remake, so I feel we are not totally opposed, the schlockmeisters and I.
Nov 24, 2016
White Heat
Saw White Heat, a James Cagney gangster film. If I had to explain to some foreign person what a gangster film was, I would point to this film. Cagney does the gangster thing, the cops pursue him, a mole in his organization sweats and connives. Cagney's gangster gets intense, debilitating migraines and has this weird fixation on his mother, an old, unsmiling battleaxe of a woman.
I assumed Cagney was supposed to be some grotesque monster, that this would be an intense battle of the noble cops vs a grandiose monster, but there really isn't that much tension and horror in the film. Rather, it's very orderly. The gangsters do one reasonable thing, the cops do another. I never got the sense that the gangster was tantalizingly out of reach, or that he was terribly, untouchably omnipotent. The plot is kind of dry fo a film where so many people die.
It's a solid gangster picture, not the greatest I've seen but not the worst either. Free of tension but also fairly free of hysterics, so maybe it's just not catering to my weaknesses. A very 1950s film. Orderly and composed.
I assumed Cagney was supposed to be some grotesque monster, that this would be an intense battle of the noble cops vs a grandiose monster, but there really isn't that much tension and horror in the film. Rather, it's very orderly. The gangsters do one reasonable thing, the cops do another. I never got the sense that the gangster was tantalizingly out of reach, or that he was terribly, untouchably omnipotent. The plot is kind of dry fo a film where so many people die.
It's a solid gangster picture, not the greatest I've seen but not the worst either. Free of tension but also fairly free of hysterics, so maybe it's just not catering to my weaknesses. A very 1950s film. Orderly and composed.
Nov 20, 2016
World's Greatest Dad
Saw World's Greatest Dad, a dark comedy starring Robin Williams. The story follows a frustrated writer (Robin Williams) with a horrible son who only thinks about sex and sneeringly hates everything and every one. Robin's character's life is one of endless, cartoonish humiliation and frustration. He works at a private school where he must always answer for his son's perverted shenanigans. He's "dating" the faculty flirt who adopts a sickening cute-little-girl persona every time she's being mean. "You're not maaaaad are you?" she whines as she breaks another date with Robin. It's Todd Solondz-level grimness.
Anyway, one day Robin finds his son dead from auto-erotic asphyxiation and, to save his face one last time, hoists his pants up and composes a fake suicide note about how no one understood him and how he was so sensitive inside. The note catches the school by storm and the idiot, horn-dog, jerk kid becomes the ideal dream friend of every student in the school. They beg Robin for more of his son's inner-life and, Robin being a frustrated writer, is happy to supply more ghost-written material.
The film is comic but very dark. I didn't know if I could take much more of the human smiley-face Robin Williams being abused mocked and belittled by his son and by life in general. Robin's character has a pathetic, grimy quality to him. There's another teacher who is smarter, hotter, and a better teacher than he is. That teacher's frustration later in the film, as Robin's star rises, is sweet succor to Robin. The satire is acid and well-drawn. I loved hating the vacuous girlfriend and being pettily jealous of the better teacher. When Robin is starting to get praise and recognition, that too is vapid and silly. "Father/Hero" reads the text under his face on an Oprah-like talk-show.
I was sort of worried that we'd start to get a bit Randian. Was the small, pathetic teacher supposed to be the villain (or anti-hero) for cheating his way to the top? This other teacher is clearly better in every way than Robin is and the only way Robin gets the better of him is via an outrageous lie. I felt that either Robin would come clean, triggering an outrage every bit as vacuous as the praise he was receiving, or he would continue this lie forever, falling into phoniness and villainy. I felt the ending of the film let him off very lightly. The film wants to redeem him but doesn't want him to suffer. But he's selfishly tricked the whole (admittedly stupid) town, so why should he get off Scot-free?
I felt the ending was off, but the rest of it is great. Wry and well-observed, full of little hilarious details like Robin snidely observing that The New Yorker is a fine publication he guesses but it isn't a national magazine. A sometimes painful but fun and silly movie. It has some vague motions at moralizing that I don't think really stick, but the rest of the film is good enough, I'll give it a pass. A nice little film.
Anyway, one day Robin finds his son dead from auto-erotic asphyxiation and, to save his face one last time, hoists his pants up and composes a fake suicide note about how no one understood him and how he was so sensitive inside. The note catches the school by storm and the idiot, horn-dog, jerk kid becomes the ideal dream friend of every student in the school. They beg Robin for more of his son's inner-life and, Robin being a frustrated writer, is happy to supply more ghost-written material.
The film is comic but very dark. I didn't know if I could take much more of the human smiley-face Robin Williams being abused mocked and belittled by his son and by life in general. Robin's character has a pathetic, grimy quality to him. There's another teacher who is smarter, hotter, and a better teacher than he is. That teacher's frustration later in the film, as Robin's star rises, is sweet succor to Robin. The satire is acid and well-drawn. I loved hating the vacuous girlfriend and being pettily jealous of the better teacher. When Robin is starting to get praise and recognition, that too is vapid and silly. "Father/Hero" reads the text under his face on an Oprah-like talk-show.
I was sort of worried that we'd start to get a bit Randian. Was the small, pathetic teacher supposed to be the villain (or anti-hero) for cheating his way to the top? This other teacher is clearly better in every way than Robin is and the only way Robin gets the better of him is via an outrageous lie. I felt that either Robin would come clean, triggering an outrage every bit as vacuous as the praise he was receiving, or he would continue this lie forever, falling into phoniness and villainy. I felt the ending of the film let him off very lightly. The film wants to redeem him but doesn't want him to suffer. But he's selfishly tricked the whole (admittedly stupid) town, so why should he get off Scot-free?
I felt the ending was off, but the rest of it is great. Wry and well-observed, full of little hilarious details like Robin snidely observing that The New Yorker is a fine publication he guesses but it isn't a national magazine. A sometimes painful but fun and silly movie. It has some vague motions at moralizing that I don't think really stick, but the rest of the film is good enough, I'll give it a pass. A nice little film.
Nov 13, 2016
The Transporter
Saw The Transporter (thanks, Basil!) It was a very European sort of mix of Fast and Furious and Rambo. The film is clearly the result of a car enthusiast day-dreaming about driving fancy cars, wearing neato watches, and being a super-cool guy who transports various stuff for the mob or something. He listens to classical music and so smart and cool and oh my god wouldn't that be cool!?
Unsurprisingly, I didn't think much of this film. The plot, such as it is, is that this super-cool trucker has to transport a sexy lady who of course he sees all tied up and just can't help but fall in love with her. The treatment of this woman (who is a hacker I guess but also a damsel in distress) is a bit gross but, full disclosure, I did really enjoy the super homo-erotic fight scene midway through the film (the protagonist gets shirtless, greases himself up, and kisses another dude on the mouth) so I guess it's sleazy, but at least it's equal-opportunity sleaze.
Anyway, the film is a wish-fulfillment fantasy for wishes I do not have. A complete miss for me. Very well-made and not at all amateurish, it nevertheless was too blatantly self-indulgent and masturbatory in a way that did not arouse my interest. Next, please.
Unsurprisingly, I didn't think much of this film. The plot, such as it is, is that this super-cool trucker has to transport a sexy lady who of course he sees all tied up and just can't help but fall in love with her. The treatment of this woman (who is a hacker I guess but also a damsel in distress) is a bit gross but, full disclosure, I did really enjoy the super homo-erotic fight scene midway through the film (the protagonist gets shirtless, greases himself up, and kisses another dude on the mouth) so I guess it's sleazy, but at least it's equal-opportunity sleaze.
Anyway, the film is a wish-fulfillment fantasy for wishes I do not have. A complete miss for me. Very well-made and not at all amateurish, it nevertheless was too blatantly self-indulgent and masturbatory in a way that did not arouse my interest. Next, please.
Nov 12, 2016
Rise of the Guardians
Saw Rise of the Guardians, a very whimsical children's film that constructs some elaborate mythology around childhood mythelogical characters, such as the Easter Bunny and Santa. These are the titular Guardians who defend hope and the magic of childhood and whatnot. The protagonist, Jack Frost, is a young boy with the voice of an adult man who is cool in a horribly children's-movie sort of way and who wears a hoodie and guy-liner. It's pretty weird. He's clearly supposed to be a teen heartthrob or something. Anyway, he and the guardians have a cute little adventure saving the world from Pitch Black (which is apparently the real actual name of The (or A) Boogeyman.)
The film is pure escapism. I knew it would be and relished the escape from reality. This film is a bit limp when it comes to plot, but the art design is amazing. I suspect the concept art would be a lot of fun to look at. Clearly a lot of creativity was spent on this film. There's all these little flourishes of world-building that don't go anywhere. For example, they seem to have some kind of semi-religious relationship with the moon that's never explained. It's sort of crypto-pagan but then many holidays are so it's appropriate. Anyway, a good bit of fluff that unfortunately got a bit cringey for me (remember, the protagonist is Cool.) Kids would probably like it.
The film is pure escapism. I knew it would be and relished the escape from reality. This film is a bit limp when it comes to plot, but the art design is amazing. I suspect the concept art would be a lot of fun to look at. Clearly a lot of creativity was spent on this film. There's all these little flourishes of world-building that don't go anywhere. For example, they seem to have some kind of semi-religious relationship with the moon that's never explained. It's sort of crypto-pagan but then many holidays are so it's appropriate. Anyway, a good bit of fluff that unfortunately got a bit cringey for me (remember, the protagonist is Cool.) Kids would probably like it.
Strictly Ballroom
Saw Strictly Ballroom, a film directed by Baz Luhrmann, the guy who directed Moulin Rouge(!) and Romeo + Juliette. This is one was an early film in his career, so he hasn't yet embraced his innate lust for camp in quite the glorious, full-thoated way that Moulin Rouge does. Yet this film is deeply and delightfully campy, focusing on a dancer who is the son of two dancers. He desperately wants to win the big ballroom dance competition but (oh no!) he keeps dancing steps that aren't on the list of official acceptable ballroom dance moves!! His mother screams, his father looks away, ashamed, his dance instructor grows "come one, boy! Show them your ballcraft!" The whole thing is a hoot.
The film is sweet and simple, silly and goofy. It's in no way challenging, just a pure puff-ball of a film. It giddily trips from spectacle to spectacle, doing everything in its power to convince you that ballroom dancing is amazing and exciting. It mostly works because it provides you a snarky out by poking fun at itself often. It doesn't seem to take itself seriously and, for me at least, this gave me permission to just lay back and enjoy myself. It's simplistic and silly in parts, but it knows it. It's also grand and melodramatic at other times, and is just a lot of campy fun.
The film is sweet and simple, silly and goofy. It's in no way challenging, just a pure puff-ball of a film. It giddily trips from spectacle to spectacle, doing everything in its power to convince you that ballroom dancing is amazing and exciting. It mostly works because it provides you a snarky out by poking fun at itself often. It doesn't seem to take itself seriously and, for me at least, this gave me permission to just lay back and enjoy myself. It's simplistic and silly in parts, but it knows it. It's also grand and melodramatic at other times, and is just a lot of campy fun.
Nov 5, 2016
In a Lonely Place
Saw In a Lonely Place, a Bogart picture where Humph plays an embittered screenwriter. He establishes himself as a hero by sticking up for down-and-out actors and by slugging the smug money men. He has a girl around for a few innocent drinks and then, after leaving his apartment, the girl winds up dead. Yes, it's shaping up to be a bog-standard mystery picture. Fortunately, we're saved from the rather rote emergence of the villains and the drug connection and the whatnot of conventional mysteries by the film changing focus to Bogart's romantic relationship and the film pivots and becomes a rather harrowing story of domestic abuse.
The writer is implicated in the crime and even though we viewers know he didn't do it, it starts to seem like the kind of thing he would do. He has explosive tantrums, lavishing her with gifts the next day. I've never experienced domestic abuse (thank heaven) but this rage/guilt/sweetness cycle is textbook as far as I know. By the end, we get into some true 50 super-melodrama, but it's left me fairly rattled.
Bogart's most famous films have him as the hero or anti-hero at worst, but before the Maltese Falcon and Casablanca, he was type-cast as a gangster. It's shocking for me to see him be menacing but boy does he deliver with the tantrums and the rage. At one point he's cradling his girlfriend's head and it looks exactly like he's strangling her. The film cleverly subverts the fist-fight that opens the film. Initially, it establishes him as a hero, but in retrospect is clearly the actions of a man with a short fuse and little self-control. The film strips away the tropes of action and romance films, revealing their hackneyed short-hands to be creepy and ominous. By the end, his small circle of out-of-work friends seem less like a band of true artists and more like the losers table, huddling together for company and turning a blind eye to each other's gaping flaws. A tragic and creepy film.
The writer is implicated in the crime and even though we viewers know he didn't do it, it starts to seem like the kind of thing he would do. He has explosive tantrums, lavishing her with gifts the next day. I've never experienced domestic abuse (thank heaven) but this rage/guilt/sweetness cycle is textbook as far as I know. By the end, we get into some true 50 super-melodrama, but it's left me fairly rattled.
Bogart's most famous films have him as the hero or anti-hero at worst, but before the Maltese Falcon and Casablanca, he was type-cast as a gangster. It's shocking for me to see him be menacing but boy does he deliver with the tantrums and the rage. At one point he's cradling his girlfriend's head and it looks exactly like he's strangling her. The film cleverly subverts the fist-fight that opens the film. Initially, it establishes him as a hero, but in retrospect is clearly the actions of a man with a short fuse and little self-control. The film strips away the tropes of action and romance films, revealing their hackneyed short-hands to be creepy and ominous. By the end, his small circle of out-of-work friends seem less like a band of true artists and more like the losers table, huddling together for company and turning a blind eye to each other's gaping flaws. A tragic and creepy film.
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