Viewings: April 2022

Ti West's X was my favourite first time viewing this month. Other cherry-poppin' favourites were: the micro-budget acid trip that was Malatesta's Carnival of Blood; Alan Ladd's trenchcoat swagger in the excellent noir, This Gun for Hire; and Franco Nero channeling eighties action hero machismo in the one and only official Django sequel, Django Strikes Again. 

Also been watching bits and pieces of the Depp vs. Heard trial while tinkering with the design of the blog. Looks great in 4K, but not so much on a 1440p monitor. Not many options on Blogger, to be honest.

Film:

The Maltese Falcon (John Huston, 1941)

This Gun for Hire (Frank Tuttle, 1942)*

The Big Sleep (Howard Hawks, 1946)

Villa Rides (Buzz Kulik, 1968)*

Malatesta’s Carnival of Blood (Christopher Speeth, 1973)*

Zardoz (John Boorman, 1974)

Lips of Blood (Jean Rollin, 1975)

To Be Twenty (Fernando Di Leo, 1978)*

The Long Good Friday (John MacKenzie, 1980)

Schizoid (David Paulsen, 1980)

Death Screams (David Nelson, 1982)*

Eating Raoul (Paul Bartel, 1982)*

Cut and Run (Ruggero Deodato, 1985)

Django Strikes Again (Nello Rossati, 1987)*

Doom Asylum (Richard Friedman, 1987)

Bad Boy Bubby (Rolf de Heer, 1993)

Dawn of the Dead (Zack Snyder, 2004)

American Mary (Jen Soska & Sylvia Soska, 2012)

Ballad in Blood (Ruggero Deodato, 2016)*

Pleasure (Ninja Thyberg, 2021)*

Ambulance (Michael Bay, 2022)*

The Batman (Matt Reeves, 2022)*

Wyrmwood: Apocalypse (Kiah Roache-Turner, 2022)*

X (Ti West, 2022)*

Television:

Peaky Blinders - Episode 6; Season 6 (Steven Knight, 2022)*

Mastermind - Episodes 29-31: Season 6 (Bill Wright, 2022)*

Emmerdale - Episode 9337 (Sharon Marshall, 2022)*

* First time viewings.

 

Dada Debaser Notes:

• Obviously slang for alcohol consumption back then, but Humphrey Bogart's "get wet" line in The Big Sleep takes on an amusingly whole new meaning today.
  
• It's reached the point where the overuse of Franz Schubert's Ave Maria has become a clichéd musical accompaniment to whenever any kind of twisted genius or violence ensues on screen. Matt Reeves' unreservedly mediocre The Batman is the latest example of this. The Soska sisters featured it best in American Mary with just a chicken on screen.
  
• Doubt I'll revist Ruggero Deodato's Ballad in Blood ever again. Basing an exploitative take upon the infamous murder of Meredith Kercher is a bit much, even for me. At least the rugged man is consistent I guess, but why didn't he reuse Riz Ortolani's superior Do It To Me instead of Sweetly as his choice musical throwback to House on the Edge of the Park, though?
  
• Between Doom Asylum and Frankenhooker, Patty Mullen really had all the trappings of a top tier scream queen. Shame we didn't get more of her. Discovered this month Tina from Doom Asylum was that blonde dancer from Beastie Boys' No Sleep Till Brooklyn video.
  
• Assumed that after what might have been thirty or so years since last viewing Zardoz it might have aged for the better. No such luck; still atrocious.
  
• Can't say I cared too much for the final season of Peaky Blinders. Intentional or not, the biggest highlights for me were the actors playing Oswald Mosley and his missus, hamming it up as a couple of sexually depraved, aristocrat fascists. They stole all their scenes.
  
• Ninja Thyberg's Pleasure turned out to be a double penetrating critique on misogynism in the porn industry and the vapidly blasé attitude of Gen Z starlets. Reminded me of Netflix's equally disturbing Hot Girls Wanted (2015) documentary.
  
• Haven't always agreed with Mark Kermode's opinions on Michael Bay films in the past, but his review of Ambulance was very accurate.
• Both Rolf de Heer's Bad Boy Bubby and Fernando Di Leo's To Be Twenty deserve obligatory  awards for radically shifting genres throughout. Daisy dukes and Gloria Guida are an ill combo.
  
• Not caught Emmerdale in a long while, but Meena's trial and its outcome were top quality television viewing for me:

You Go a Go-Go

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to go-go. Since the beginning of time mankind has always peddled its wares with the marketing strategy of having an attractive female to promote the sale of a product or a service. In the world of cinema, that ethos was also applicable. Here are three examples of great films utilising this tactic from the offset:

 

Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! (Opening Narration & Credits)

(Russ Meyer, 1965)

 

There's nothing more intolerable than wannabe Roger Eberts having an orgasm over some overrated hack film maker's work. Biggest insult of all is when these Letterboxd urchins flaunt the word "auteur" with such wreckless abandon. One film maker however, who most definitely was a great auteur, was the late great Russ Meyer, aka "King of the Nudies", "King Leer" and "The Fellini of the Sex Industry". His quintessential style encompassing buxom women, leering camerwork and creative editing was second to none. His most heralded film is undoubtely Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! (1965), which ushered into the world of cult cinema the likes of Tura Satana, Lori Williams and Dada Debaser's favourite, Haji.These three lasses know what they've got and how to use it and were never damsels in distress.

 

Die Screaming Marianne (Opening Credits)

(Pete Walker, 1971)

 

Other than Zardoz (1974), perhaps the biggest crime in the British film industry is the complete lack of appreciation for one of its finest sons, Pete Walker. Making the switch from sexploitation to horror was easy as pie for the director, since both genres that are forever huddled together with ignorant contempt by the morality brigade, are much easier to produce on a low budget. In between his transitioning of genres our Pete made Die Screaming Marianne; a Brit giallo of sorts, that's largely forgettable sadly, with the exception of the film's opening titles. Cult siren of the seventies and early eighties, Susan George gogo dancing amongst a minimal red background, feels somewhat contradictory; as it harkens to some big show girl spectacle from a bygone era in Hollywood, while tapping into the contemporay (for its time, at least) aesthetic of post-Summer of Love hippiedom. It's too bad Die Screaming Marianne was boring, but on a positive note, Susan George wound up in both Fright and Straw Dogs in the very same year and Pete Walker would release his first classic film, The Flesh and Blood Show (1972) the following year.

 

Do the Right Thing (Opening Credits)

(Spike Lee, 1989) 

 

1989 the number, another dancer. Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing (1989) serves as an excellent tale of the boiling racial tension on a hot summer's day in Brooklyn, but the actual reason it struck a chord with a certain age demographic back then, was seeing butter Pecan Rican, Rosie Perez bustin' her moves over Public Enemy's Fight the Power. Lee claimed inspiration from seeing Anne Margaret singing and dancing in the opening sequence of Bye Bye Birdie (1963). Yours truly doesn't believe a word of it and believes Spike watched her one time on Soul Train and obliged Chuck D's request of "got to give us what we want! Got to give us what we need!" by getting Miss Perez on the set working up a sweat for our entertainment. Film connoisseurs mostly gloss over this intro, or at best, or employ lingo such as "empowering" and "liberating" before spouting off about the film's poignant social commentary. Which is all very noble, but for late eighties male teens, Miss Perez air boxing and pop lockin' in that blue lycra and leather jacket ensemble was an unexpected pleasure, much the same as finding a bunch of discarded porn mags in the park with your school mate. Cheers, Spike!

These are the only examples that immediatley come to mind which utilised a dancing woman in their respective film's opening intros. The James Bond franchise's opening credits were a different kettle of fish altogether, in my opinion. There are probably other examples after 1989, but my mind is drawing a blank at this point in time.

Picks of 2012

Holy Motors (Monsieur Merde Cemetery Scene)

(Leos Carax, 2012)

Hard to believe the London Olympics, KONY and Carly Rae Jepsen's Call Me Maybe were a decade ago. In the world of cinema, it was the time when the MCU concluded its Phase One of global domination (although I never realised it at the time) and made me wish the Mayans' doomsday prediction had come true. Here are my film highlights from the year:

Room 237 (Rodney Ascher)

Compliance (Craig Zobel)

Cosmopolis (David Cronenberg)

Aftershock (Nicolás López)

Django Unchained (Quentin Tarantino)

No One Lives (Ryuhei Kitamura)

 The Divide (Xavier Gens)

The Woman in Black (James Watkins)

Dredd (Pete Travis & Alex Garland)

Holy Motors (Leos Carax)

Kiss of the Damned (Xen Cassavetes)

Searching for Sugar Man (Malik Bendjelloul)

Sightseers (Ben Wheatley)

Berberian Sound Studio (Peter Strickland)

Rust and Bone (Jacques Audiard)

Lovely Molly (Eduardo Sánchez)

The Bay (Barry Levinson)

Maniac (Franck Khalfoun)

Excision (Richard Bates Jr.)

American Mary (Jen Soska & Sylvia Soska)

[REC]³ Genesis (Paco Plaza)

Why couldn't Quentin Tarantino cast Michael K. Williams (r.i.p.) as his titular hero, Django? I've always believed he would have been far more suitable for the role than Jamie Foxx. You know he would have owned it, instead of being outshone by the rest of his supporting cast. Enjoyed the film regardless, but how incredible would it have been with Omar Little in Candyland?

Ten Reasons Why Zardoz is a Cinematic Mess

Dada Debaser made the terrible mistake of revisiting John Boorman's infamous Zardoz (1974) recently, with the naive hope it might have improved over the years. Sadly, it's still a convoluted and incoherent dung heap, but that doesn't stop habitual drug users and film contrarians hailing it as a misunderstood masterpiece whenever underrated sciene fiction films are discussed. One man's trash is another man's treasure, I guess. Personally, I'm thankful George Lucas came along and changed the game for us folk looking for proper entertainment and escapism.

Here are ten reasons why I consider Zardoz ostentatious bilge and why it will never be included in any forthcoming Best British Films list from me - like anything I've seen by Mike Leigh:

1. Allegedly, John Boorman was as high as a kite when he wrote, produced and directed the film. It becomes evident very early on that the film is an exercise of style over execution. Various sections of Zardoz are so inpenetratable that even Boorman admitted he didn't totally understand parts of the film. So why are we meant to bother with it then?
   
2. Desperate for work and to shake off any James Bond style typecasting, Sean Connery felt comfortable enough to wear a red loincloth and thigh high boots for the majority of the film, but for this humble film blogger, it's a laughable eye sore. So ridiculous in fact, that any potential prospect in taking the film remotely seriously for one iota of a second is completely lost on me. The film's costume designer was Christel Kruse Boorman, none other than John Boorman's wife; whose only other film is another of Boorman's films, The Emerald Forest (1985). Reeks of cronyism to me.
   
3. Connery went a step even further than his proto-mankini, which Borat ended up nicking, by a wearing a wedding dress in one scene. It's an example of the film's obvious attempt at humour, but I guess you really had to be there to find it funny.
4. Zardoz's whole "the gun is good; the penis is evil" speech makes next to no sense since his acolytes, the Exterminators are raping the Brutals and are descendents of them.
   
5. Charlotte Rampling is the go to actress when it comes to casting a posh lass in challenging or controversial cinema; to the point she's still starring in them today, however even her talents can't shrug off the obvious tripe she has to put up with in Zardoz, such as all the phallus talk and making Zed (Connery) watch porn and checking to see if he's gotten a boner.
   
6. With the exception of Victor Bueno and Silly Kid, fake god, Zardoz, aka Arthur Frayn has the most punchable face ever. At the behest of 20th Century Fox to make the film make any real coherent sense, Boorman includes a prologue which fails miserably at expaining anything.
   
7. The Eternals are meant to be telekinetic ruling class blessed with immortality, with a penchent for green baguettes. Obviously inspired by H.G. Wells' Eloi from The Time Machine in terms of futuristic flower power children living in a communal paradise. However, they're more theoretically a hybrid of the mutant humans with psychic powers from Beneath the Planet of the Apes (1970) and the pretentious hippies from the Rainbow Rhythms dance class featured in Peep Show (2003-2015). The Eternals are an even greater sum of these parts since they're way more vexing, cruel and pretentious making them hard to tolerate throughout the entirety of the film.
8. The Tabernacle's use of levity is so poorly executed that it ruins any potential to take the film seriously. Zed (Connery) attempts to make sense of the world he inhabits, but the Tabernacle delivers awful lines like, "You have penetrated me. There is no escape. You are within me. Come into my center. Come into the center of the crystal!".
   
9. Zardoz's influence is cancerous to other film makers. That bloke Ben Wheatley, who reminds me of Heather Trott who used to be in Eastenders, is a big fan of Zardoz. That explains a lot, since he's been delving into pretentious tosh for a decade now and hasn't delivered a good film since Sightseers (2012). Ironically, Boorman has three good movies and one semi decent one - Point Blank (1967), Hell in the Pacific (1968), Deliverance (1972) and the first half of Excalibur (1981) - while Wheatley has less than that.
   
10. When Empire, a once great film mag that I read on a regular basis, gave five star reviews to overrated grot like Grease (1978), Kes (1969) and West Side Story (1961), but awarded Zardoz a posthumous one star rating, then you knew the film was a complete train wreck even for them. Film critic,Will Thomas ended his review by describing it as "dodgy on every level".

It's amazing how John Boorman still had a career following this shambolic cock-up of a movie. Astonishingly, Zardoz wasn't even his worst film, since he continued his predilection for mise-en-scène above any logic with the spectacularly awful Exorcist II: The Heretic (1977). I personally classify this sequel a hate crime as Boorman had been on record with his loathing for William Friedkin's demonic classic. Friedkin wound up having the last laugh in the end as Boorman's film was a commercial and critical flop. Whether it's true or not, Friedkin's schandenfraude is the source of one of my favourite movie related anecdotes on YouTube and a nice little diss to Boorman and the morons who produced it. To think, it could have all been avoided if they watched Zardoz and brought a sick bag with them.

Zardoz (Trailer)

(John Boorman, 1974)

The Wish List

Being the Easter weekend, a time when many of the boutique blu-ray labels have a sale going on, I finally broke my new year's resolution and spunked way too much cash on films that will probably wind up spending the rest of the year in the unwatched pile. Other than the threat of Casa de Spartan being renamed the Fortress of Solitude if this crazy spending spree ever happens again, it did have me pondering on possible movies I would love to see getting a home format release, so here are five titles that would make my wallet cry even further:

White Slaves of Chinatown (Joseph P. Mawra, 1964)

The first and best of the Olga franchise, White Slaves of Chinatown is up there with the likes of This Is Spinal Tap (1984) and Cannibal Holocaust (1980) as far as fake documentary films go. The spiritual predecessor to the infamous Ilsa movies of the seventies, it's somewhat neglected in this day and age. Audrey Campbell plays the main character Olga Sarno as she tortures abducted women off the New York streets and forces them into a life of prostitution and drug addiction. This mondo style S&M roughie is absolutely hilarious and is just begging for a quality blu-ray release. This has AGFA + Something Weird Video written all over it.

 

Garter Colt (Gian Rocco, 1968)

Whether this film is good or not, beats the hell out me, because I haven't even seen it. However, this obscure spaghetti western has two striking things about it that makes it distinctive from the rest of its peers: the main protagonist is a female, which is rare as hell for a spaghetti western; the other? It's Nicholetta Machiavelli. Yup, one of the most beautiful women to ever grace the silver screen. Your humble film freak still gets mesmerised by how smoking hot she looked dressed in a potato sack opposite Burt Reynolds in Sergio Corbucci's Navajo Joe (1966). As far as I'm aware, there hasn't really been a quality English friendly release of Garter Colt and I refuse to watch a 360p rip of it on YouTube, but this looks like something Eureka would release, no question.

Legend of the Werewolf (Freddie Francis, 1975)

Believe it or not, werewolf films are a genuine rarity; great ones are once in a blue moon. Almost wept that one and only time I went to the cinema and watched that horrificly awful sequel An American Werewolf in Paris (1997). Why on earth then, does one of the great ones remain a obscure rarity that never even got a proper remaster for its DVD release let alone on blu-ray. Legend of the Werewolf is a cautionary tale of a young lad falling head over heels for the local Parisian strumpet and the obvious carnage that ensues along the way. Perfect fit for a label like Network to release one day.

The Alex Chandon Collection (1988 - 1998)

In the early nineties, during my carefree days of spending my freetime in a dingy small basement in Camden Town with the staff and fellow patrons of Psychotronic Video, I happened to discover the amateur films of Alex Chandon there. Genuinely thought this North Londoner would end up being the next big name in genre cinema after Sam Raimi and Peter Jackson. His SOV short films, particularly Bad Karma (1991) and Drillbit (1993) were heaps of fun and refreshing alternative to the mainstream blockbuster. Particularly a fan of Pervirella (1997), a homage to the Ray Harryhausen movies of yesteryear, featuring TV stalwarts Mark Lamarr and Jonathan Ross, with cult sirens Eileen Daly and Emily Booth as the titular heroine. Didn't really care for Chandon's work after that period, however. His early films are crying out for a release by an SOV specialist label like Saturn's Core.

The Strange Colour of Your Body's Tears (Hélène Cattet & Bruno Forzani, 2013)

Ask me to explain this film and I honestly wouldn't have the foggiest. It's so surreal, even Professor Brian Cox would categorise it as a Class A head scratcher. After Amer (2009), their first experimental effort which rode the late noughties renaissance wave of giallo cinema, Catte and Forzani's follow-up was an aesthetically beautiful and even more perplexing fever dream which never received a blu-ray release on these shores. It did in other regions, but as far as I'm aware, it lacked any substantial extras. The film is crying out for a lavish release, one that perhaps Arrow Films would fit the bill.

There are loads of others that I'll propably add in a possible future instalment, but this lot are personal examples of movies being neglected by today's boutique labels.

All My X's Live in Texas

X (Ti West, 2022)

First it was Alexandre Aja and now it's Ti West returning back to the fold. It's been a hot minute since I last sat down and watched a Ti West film. Not since his tell me you wanted to make a Jonestown movie, without telling me you made a Jonestown movie, The Sacrement (2013) was released. Didn't bother with his western In a Valley of Violence (2016); not sure why, though. The Big Dada considers Ti West's satanic panic horror The House of the Devil (2009) a noughties classic and the best U.S. horror from that period. After a six year hiatus from feature films, his latest effort X is a return to period set horror; this time it's 1979 Texas.

After two in-depth reviews in a row, I'm completely spent and can't be arsed breakin' down everything I love about X, but I will say it's the best 2022 film I've seen so far. West has a better grasp of executing homages without them being blatant rip-offs to the source material. He also has a more professional understanding in subverting familiar tropes and clichés in contrast to the current crop of failing-up horror directors. To its credit, West's film really evokes the spirit of yesteryear's regional horror movies, that seem to be lost in this day and age.

Without revealing too much, Mia Goth is really superb in it and the rest of the supporting cast isn't too shabby either; even Jenna Ortega and Kid Cudi are put to good use. Spent most of the film thinking Wayne was played by Luke Wilson.

While hardly a spoiler, I fully endorse young actors in elderly make-up for a sex scene, ever  since I made the vomit inducing mistake of sitting down and watching Harold and Maude (1971). It makes perfect sense in the same way Andrea Bianchi cast a thirty-something dwarf to play a child as part of his bizarre oedipal subplot in Burial Ground: Nights of Terror (1981).

Other than being the second film in a row that I've covered to feature a song synonymous with a Capital FM DJ (this time it's Dr. Fox), X gets the thumbs up from me for best use of Blue Öyster Cult's Don't Fear the Reaper after The Stand (1994) mini series, which is a phenomenal feat, in my opinon as it's been memed to death after the Christopher Walken Saturday Night Live sketch.

I still prefer The House of the Devil over X, but it's a superb slow burner with a fantastic atmosphere, regardless. Not sure a Pearl prequel film is completely warranted, but I'm willing to give it a chance based on West's talent. Bound to be better than all that other prequel shite out there, innit?

X (Trailer)

(Ti West, 2022)

 

The Long Good Friday Agreement

The Long Good Friday (John Mackenzie, 1980)

There comes a time when the stars align and a film comes along that both appeases chin-stroking film snobs and bottom-rung trash degenerates, like yours truly. John Mackenzie's British gangster thriller, The Long Good Friday is one of those films. Much like selected works from Jean Pierre Melville's filmography, what's noticeable The Long Good Friday is how it's cut from the same cloth as traditional gangster film. However, instead of playing out as an often imitable pastiche of skullduggery and turf wars, Barrie Keefe's writing treatment takes it to a unique level of pitting the film's gangboss against a mysterious assailant wreaking havoc upon his criminal empire.

Although working in TV prior to this, The Long Good Friday was Bob Hoskins' first real breakthrough into film as the hilariously named mob boss Harold Shand. Despite being a short and stocky type of fella, Hoskins completely fills up the screen with his commanding presence. Often appearing like a giant in the foreground, much like his character's status. As a genre movie head, there must have been some kind of karmic equilibrium that occured during that time, since Bob Hoskins was the most swarthy Englisman I ever laid eyes upon. This observation is remarkably counterbalanced by the waspy appearance of Italian horror star, Pierluigi Conti, aka Al Cliver. Throughout the The Long Good Friday's running time, the viewer is presented with Shand's rulership and his determination to expand into an ambitious commercial. Credit goes mostly to Hoskins' performance of course as he could have easily been reduced to the typical gangster lazily exemplified in the past couple of decades of Brit gangtser flicks. Shand is multilayered.

There's a complexity to the character that many imitators fail to replicate. A dangerous individual that could reach nought to sixty at the drop of a hat.Woe betide anyone who crosses a violent mob boss like Shand, however, his dialogue and Hoskins exceptional delivery is incredibly funny at times. Take his brief mourning for his old mate and business associate, Colin, found murdered at the local pool with his corpse having to be discretely snuck out of the vicinity via an ice cream van; Hoskins delivers a pearler of a line with, "there's a lot of dignity in that, isn't there? Going out like a raspberry ripple." This humourous level of catharticism runs rampant throughout the film. There's also his extreme level of self and national pride  which drive both his entrepreneurial accumen and the darkest aspects in his character, e.g, his obvious racism. That's a tough act to achieve in hindsight; all the more outstanding when you take into account Hoskins is so compelling to watch on screen (with the exception of his shower scene). It's almost as if he was borne from Scorsese's repertoire of loathsome yet mesmerising characters. Shand is essentially a contradiction in his beliefs: on the one hand, he exhibits interests in the commerical and cultural progression of his beloved London, to the point he sees it as the eventual epicentre of Europe and the prospective host of the 1988 Olympic Games (unlucky, H!); while on the other hand, his ignoramus attitude and over inflated self-pride further positions himself and his inner circle in obvious peril.

Helen Mirren plays Shand's posh, Benenden-educated, gangster moll, Victoria; apparently it was Mirren who changed her from hoodrat to upmarket sort. Her character was also upgraded to be a bit smarter than originally intended, but in all honesty, other than some fancy talking to Shand's prospective business/mob partners from the U.S, one of whom played by Alphaville's Eddie Constantine, she seems to be about as intelligent as your run-of-the-mill Tipping Point contestant. The rest of the cast is a rogues gallery of familiar faces from British TV which include: Derek Thompson, better known as Charlie from Casualty, as Shand's lieutenant Jeff; mean muggin' Razors, otherwise known as "Clapham Junction", played by P.H. Moriarty; Paul Barber, aka Denzil from Only Fools And Horses, as Errol the Ponce getting slashed across the arse cheeks; Range Rover enthusiast, Gillian Taylforth, more commonly recognised as Kathy "I'm dirty, Paulie! I'm dirty!" Beale from Eastenders; and a brief appearance by Dexter Fletcher as a guttersnype kid before he grew up and committed crimes against humanity with his American accent in the show Press Gang. However, perhaps the biggest name other than Hoskins and Mirren, is Pierce Brosnan as an I.R.A. hitman, in an apperance that even predates that one episode he got offscreen killed by a female serial killer in an episode of Hammer House of Horror.

Somewhat curious as to what would have happened to Shand if he didn't doublecross the I.R.A leader, Captain Death in the cabin at the stock car racing circuit (that place is a Sainsbury's now). On the real, Shand was a dead man walking and I hardly think handing over a case of £60K would have saved his skin from the I.R.A. Think he would have been full anti-E.U and harping on about Brexit if they left him alive, though. I do find it fascinating, however, of pitting a ruthless business man like Shand against a political organisation like the I.R.A; in this respect, it reminds me of Michael Corleone's reluctance to invest in Havana, Cuba prior to Castro's revolution in Francis Ford Coppola's The Godfather: Part II (1974).

Mackenzie's film runs just under two hours long and it's very efficient with its pacing; not lingering constantly to milk any dramatic effect to the point of ridicule. Set in a twenty-four hour period, the film takes the viewer on a non-stop adventure into Shand's world of organised crime, while he begins to process who his destructive foes are and how he intends to deal with them. Bouncing from one location to another, we're privileged to see the inner sanctum of Harold Shand's empire collapsing within a small amount of time. Importantly, what The Long Good Friday has in its favour is it's all carried out via necessity and not as an exercise of style over substance like say Guy Richie's mockney gangster movies. Aside from Hoskin's powerhouse performance, this is primarily the reason why Mackenzie's film is in such a higher league than the Britwave of gangster movies that emerged during the late nineties and into the noughties, although Jonathan Glazer's Sexy Beast (2000) is a legitimate favourite of mine.

The Long Good Friday (Harold Shand's speech to the mafia scene)

(John Mackenzie, 1980)

 

  

Goes without saying that Francis Monkman's killer synth work and unforgetable saxophone riff for the film's main theme is incredible; it probably explains why the mulleted Pat Sharp played the theme ad nauseam as his background track whenever he spewed inane promotional garbage during his tenure as DJ over at Capital FM back in the eighties. The biggest oddity is a reggae number called Talking to the Police, sung by a Bob Hoskins. Apart from Hoskins' cod-reggae vocals, its use in the film is particularly noteworthy, as it's playing when he rolls into a Brixton street looking for the snitch Errol the Ponce, while berating the local youths with casual racism.

Really can't end this review without discussing the obvious ending. If you haven't seen this film that's well over forty years old, it's too late to be worried about spoilers, son. Shand's abduction is perhaps one of those ending that elevates what's otherwise a great film to stratospheric levels. We're privvy to a range of different emotions as Hoskins puts his acting prowess to good measure. His conveyance of all that he's feeling without uttering a single world during those final moments, all while Pierce Brosnan has him held at gunpoint, is truly sublime. At the risk of sounding clichéd, Hoskins' performance truly is a masterclass in acting. Fun fact: Hoskins and Brosnan were never filmed together for that actual scene.

 

The Long Good Friday (Taken scene)

(John Mackenzie, 1980)

 

 

True Story: 

Bob Hoskins once attended an open evening event held at my old school. He claimed to have been a student there, despite the school having a different name at the time and it being situated in a totally different location. Sounds like a completely different school to me, Bob. However, considering the only famous people to have attended that horrible dump masquerading as an educational institution were scatterbrained, political pundit Robert Peston, that bird who sang It Feels So Good and grime artist Chipmunk, he would have defintitely gotten the seal of approval from me.

Hootloose

Stagefright (Michele Soavi, 1987)

Listing all the classic gems from '87 in a previous post had me wanting to revisit what's personally one of the best slashher of that year. Not Prom Night II: Hello Mary Lou, although I dig the hell out of it, nor A Nightmare On Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors, I'm talking about Michele Soavi's debut feature film, Stagefright. This film has a bunch of alternate titles like Stage Fright, Deliria, Aquarius and Bloody Bird. For the record there are three films with the title Stage Fright that this blog officially recognises: Hitchcock's 1950 film noir, starring Marlene Dietrich; the entertainingly trashy Australian slasher better known as Nightmares (1980); and of course Soavi's classic eighties slasher. We don't talk about that horrible musical travesty with Mimi Driver here. Ever!

With the popularity of slashers going the supernatural route, what's instantly apparent about Soavi's film is it's back-to-basics approach. A minimalistic concept; a theatre production cast and crew are locked inside a stage theatre with an escaped homicidal maniac slaughtering them. What's all the better is it does away with the usual excess baggage of teenage characters with angsts and woes I couldn't give a shit about, and substitutes them with artsy fartsy twenty-somethings there for the bodycount. The stripped down approach of not burdening itself with unneccessary exposition and focusing on character actions, motivations and logic, adds another string to the film's bow. The film delivers the requirements I'm always after when viewing a slasher film: dread, suspense, tension, blood and gore.

The film works for me, since it adheres to the simple formula of the golden age slasher while still achieving relevancy, after Wes Craven took it to the next level and ushered in the silver age era with A Nightmare On Elm Street (1984). All the recognisable archtypes are there, but given a noticable twist in some departments. Chiefly, Barbara Cupisti's Alicia; a stage actress cast as a prostitue character. Once she is injured, she's dropped from the production and reverts to the familiar virginal maiden template, which grants her the status as the film's final girl.

Soavi had the title of Aquarius in mind as he likened the concept of people trapped inside the eerie blue backdrop of the theatre as that of a fish tank. Forshadowing from an early scene in the film where a lionfish eats a smaller fish in an aquarium, exemplifies the predator and prey enclosed in a claustrophobic space. The gantry and bathroom scenes are notable examples. It's also a reason why Soavi was adamant to have a unique look for his masked killer, that of a feathery owl mask. Soavi rejected obvious favourites like the hockey or clown mask and opted for the owl mask based on his inspiration from German dadaist and surrealist artist, Max Ernst's birdman illustrations. The heart shaped face and big eyes of the owl's head make it deceptively innocent in appearance to other birds of prey:

The biggest surprise would be that the film's plot was written by Luigi Montefiori, aka George Eastman (not the same bloke that founded the Eastman Kodak Company, bruv); a veteran Italian actor from multiple film genres, but better known as the cannibal from the infamous video nasty, Anthropophagus (1980). Also, Montefiori's director collaborator, Aristide Massaccesi, aka Joe D'Amato, dubbed The Italian Ed Wood, would serve as Stagefright's producer. It's somewhat shocking that these two names from some of the trashiest and sleaziest entries in Italian horror would be credited in what's arguably one of the best and neglected slasher films of all time.

Although set somewhere in the U.S, it's hard not to notice all the hallmarks of its Italian heritage. The very European cast are a dead giveaway. The most noticable of the bunch is Giovanni Lombardo Radice, aka John Morghen. Proclaimed as "Italy's Whipping Boy", since his characters usually come to incredibly gruesome endings, Radice would wind up to be the poster child of Italian horror and exploitation cinema. My favourite character would have to be the cruel theatre director, played by David Brandon. Enjoyed seeing his character arc go from douchebag to brief proactive leader, before reverting to a douchebag again. Fair play to Soavi for casting Barbara Cupisti as Alicia the final girl, simply because he fancied her. Don't blame him since she looked like a dead ringer for Margot Kidder back in the day. That would explain why she was cast in the majority of his movies.

Soavi worked as both an actor and second unit director in a bunch of famous Italian horror titles; notably, Lamberto Bava's giallo A Blade In The Dark (1983). Hailed as the prodigal son of Dario Argento, Soavi hit the ground running with Stagefright for his debut directorial feature. He also appears in this film as the donut eating cop, who thinks he looks like James Dean, outside the theatre. Got to give him props for actually donning the owl mask too while doing the rope climb scene. That's a man who is definitely commited to his craft, right there. It's too bad the end was nigh for Italian horror, however. There were only a few years left, but the scene was already heading into decline after Demons (1985) was released. Still, he did leave us with four wonderful films, two of which I consider classic Italian horror films - this and Dellamorte Dellamore (1994), before the unfortunate demise of the industry.

Simon Boswell's soundtrack is a combination of eighties excess. Mainly moody synths on the majority of the tracks and an unforgettable saxophone blaring away for the main theme. My favourite joint would have to be Sharp Groove, although it's been renamed to Drama Queen on a more recent issue of the soundtrack album. Have always been a staunch believer in synths and classical symphony being the only musical accompaniment for a slasher film. However, the sounds of what sound like Rick Rubin tinkering on a sampler with Funky Drummer looped for an eternity works remarkably well during the chase sequence scene.

Simon Boswell - Drama Queen

(Stagefright Soundtrack, 1987)

First discovered this film while surfing the channels one late night in the early nineties. It was love at first sight. Had missed the first few minutes so I was completely clueless as to the film's title, as there was no information about it on hand. Taking into account the internet was still in its relative infancy, the name of the film alluded me until the following decade. I wound up spotting the sight of our Owl headed maniac when I chanced upon the DVD artwork of him over at Xploited Cinema (R.I.P.). Needless to say, I copped the film pronto. To this day, I make a note of watching it at least once a year whenever I'm lamenting over the insurmountable bad slasher films we have nowadays.

Stagefright (Trailer)

(Michele Soavi, 1987)

101 Greatest Non-Rap Singles Of The 80s

Since I'm still waiting for a new movie to come along and not make me want to throw a brick at the screen, here's a list of old eighties songs that I either dug at the time, discovered much later on, but bump today, regardless. Remarkably hasn't changed much since its initial incarnation from nearly three years ago, submitted over at the old comments section at The Martorialist's blog. Having your own blog, it's less of a headache worrying over character limits and formating in a miniscule comments section window. Kept doubting whether I had indeed done an eighties singles list or just imagined it.

A few issues compiling this list (see below), but otherwise, this was far less of a headache than the 101 Best Non-Rap Singles Of The 90s list I had done prior to this.

AC/DC - Back In Black (1980)

Blondie - Call Me (1980)

Diana Ross - Upside Down (1980)

Ozzy Osbourne - Crazy Train (1980)

Iron Maiden - Phantom of the Opera (1980)

Joy Division - Love Will Tear Us Apart (1980)

Motörhead - Ace of Spades (1980)

Talking Heads - Once In A Lifetime (1980)

Zapp - More Bounce To The Ounce (1980)

Adam & The Ants - Stand & Deliver (1981)

Kraftwerk - The Model (1981)

Rick James - Give It To Me Baby (1981)

Grace Jones - Pull Up to the Bumper (1981)

Romeo Void - Never Say Never (1981)

Tom Tom Club - Genius Of Love (1981)

Luther Vandross - Never Too Much (1981)

The Stranglers - Golden Brown (1981)

Soft Cell - Tainted Love (1981)

Sue Saad - Looker (1981)

The Human League - Don't You Want Me (1981)

The Specials - Ghost Town (1981)

Survivor - Eye of the Tiger (1982)

A Flock of Seagulls - I Ran (So Far Away) (1982)

The Clash - Rock The Casbah (1982)

Darry Hall & John Oates - I Can't Go For That (No Can Do) (1982)

George Clinton - Atomic Dog (1982)

George Thorogood & The Destroyers - Bad to the Bone (1982)

Marvin Gaye - Sexual Healing (1982)

Eddy Grant - Electric Avenue (1982)

Billy Idol - White Wedding (1982)

Indeep - Last Night A D.J. Saved My Life (1982)

Evelyn "Champagne" King - Love Come Down (1982)

Material - Don't Lose Control (Remix) (1982)

Michael Jackson - Thriller (1982)

Patrice Rushen - Forget Me Nots (1982)

Sister Nancy - Bam Bam (1982)

Tears For Fears - Mad World (1982)

Yazoo - Don't Go (1982)

Bananarama - Cruel Summer (1983)

Dio - Rainbow in the Dark (1983)

Eurythmics - Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) (1983)

The Fixx - One Thing Leads To Another (1983)

Hashim - Al-Naafiysh (The Soul) (1983)

Herbie Hancock - Rockit (1983)

Madonna - Holiday (1983)

Mary Jane Girls - All Night Long (1983)

Michael Sembello - Maniac (1983)

Mtume - Juicy Fruit (1983)

New Order - Blue Monday (1983)

Oliver Cheatham - Get Down Saturday Night (1983)

Rockwell - Somebody's Watching Me (1983)

Rufus and Chaka Khan - Ain't Nobody (1983)

Shannon - Let The Music Play (1983)

Siouxsie & The Banshees - Dear Prudence (1983)

Philip Bailey & Phil Collins - Easy Lover (1984)

Harold Faltermeyer - Axel F (1984)

Barrington Levy - Under Mi Sensi (1984)

Metallica - For Whom The Bell Tolls (1984)

Sade - Smooth Operator (1984)

Tahnee Cain & Tryanglz - Burning in the Third Degree (1984)

Tangerine Dream - Love On A Real Train (1984)

Art of Noise - Moments In Love (1985)

Cameo - Word Up (1985)

Paul Hardcastle - 19 (1985)

Nu Shooz - I Can't Wait (1985)

Robert Palmer - Addicted to Love (1985)

Stevie Wonder - Part-Time Lover (1985)

The Smiths - How Soon Is Now (1985)

Tenor Saw - Ring the Alarm (1985)

Yello - Oh Yeah (1985)

Duran Duran - Save A Prayer (1985)

The Cult - She Sells Sanctuary (1985)

Anita Baker - Sweet Love (1986)

The Flowerpot Men - Beat City (1986)

Janet Jackson - Nasty (1986)

Sigue Sigue Sputnik - Love Missile F1-11 (1986)

Robert Tepper - No Easy Way Out (1986)

XTC - Dear God (1986)

Gerard McMann - Cry Little Sister (Theme from The Lost Boys) (1987)

Alexander O'Neal - Criticize (1987)

LeVert - Casanova (1987)

Guns N' Roses - Welcome To The Jungle (1987)

Pet Shop Boys - It's A Sin (1987)

Prince - Sign "O" The Times (1987)

A Guy Called Gerald - Voodoo Ray (1988)

Bobby Brown - My Prerogative (1988)

Bomb The Bass - Don't Make Me Wait / Megablast (1988)

The Primitives - Crash (1988)

Danzig - Mother (1988)

Inner City - Good Life (1988)

Slayer - South of Heaven (1988)

The La's - There She Goes (1988)

Transvision Vamp - I Want Your Love (1988)

Adventures of Stevie V. - Dirty Cash (1989)

The Cure - Lullaby (1989)

Faith No More - Epic (1989)

Fuzzbox - International Rescue (1989)

Mantronix - Got To Have Your Love (1989)

Pixies - Here Comes Your Man (1989)

Soul II Soul featuring Caron Wheeler - Back To Life (However Do You Want Me) (1989)

The Stone Roses - I Wanna Be Adored (1989)

 

Might have technically cheated with Kraftwerk's The Model, but the English language version (which I prefer) was released the following decade after the original German version.

EDIT: Original pic was from '78; changed it to something more eighties. Moved Grim Reaper's See You In Hell to '83. Francis Monkman's The Long Good Friday Theme has multiple inconsistent dates, thus I'm using the earliest that coincides with the film's release. Similarly, moved John Carpenter and Alan Howarth's The Duke Arrives - Barricade to '81, to fit with the film as well. Made a few song replacements Tenebre, Burning In The Third Degree and Blade Runner End Titles were omissions that dawned on me soon afterwards and needed to be corrected. Been in denile with Cybotron's Clear as a non-rap song, so substituted it with Burn Rubber on Me (Why You Wanna Hurt Me). Switched the Faith No More song, too.

The Hippy Hippy Fake

Danger: Diabolik (Valmont's GoGo Pad scene)

(Mario Bava, 1968)

 

Didn't need films like Donald Cammell and Nicolas Roeg's overrated Performance (1970), to always know that the flower children of the sixties were nothing more than a bunch of drugged-up dossers. A promising British gangster movie takes a turn for the worse once Mick Jagger and Anita Pallenburg start hoggin' up precious screen time and wasting it with pseudo-intellectual babble. Since half the writing credit goes to a glorified Rolling Stones' groupie, I'm guessing Anita is the one to blame for making a hash of this film.

Praise Mario Bava then for successfully bringing to life the Italian fumetti, Danger: Diabolik (1968) with technicolour confetti, in what's arguably one of the best comic book movies hardly anyone ever mentions. Our man Diabolik has it all: Cool whips? Check! A dope underground crib? Hell yes! A fly honey? You betcha! Greatest achievement for me though, is the scene from Valmont's gogo club. A dreamy stoner nirvana that looks awesome, accompanied by an underrated Morricone jam. I find that scene way more enticing than any of the Woodstock Festival shite. That rare instance where I wouldn't have minded being a hippie, other than that time Sid James and the gang went undercover and sabotaged that hippie rave over in the adjacent field in Carry On Camping (1969).