Don't Fear the Sleeper

Army of Darkness (Original Ending)

(Sam Raimi, 1992)

 

There's nothing out right now that I'm really in a rush to see (except, maybe Baz Luhrmann's Elvis), so it's a good time to take a breather and go over a few films I managed to watch for the first time this year that really impressed me. I slept on these movies too long like Ash Williams in the original Army of Darkness (1992) ending. Therefore, it's time to make amends. Ideally, they deserve a more in-depth look, but that's way too time consuming, so here is a brief run down with my thoughts on them:

Things to Come (William Caemeron Menzies, 1936)

Adapted from H.G. Wells' novel The Shape of Things to Come, this gem of British science fiction was startling accurate with the prediction of another world war at the time. The decades which follow show a catastrophic scale of human destruction.

This Gun for Hire (Frank Tuttle, 1942)

Along with Humphrey Bogart, Alain Delon and Peter Falk, Alan Ladd joins the list of trenchcoat cool. This film noir triumph has Ladd playing a hitman with enough repressed anger in him, you would think he would explode like Yaphet Kotto in Live and Let Die (1973). Amazing chemistry between Alan Ladd and Veronica Lake that it's little wonder they were paired together in a further three films.

Riot in Cell Block 11 (Don Siegel, 1954)

This might be one of the most anti-prison movies I've watched. Siegel blends documentary style footage with fever-pitch tension which results in a gritty prison riot tale. The argument for better conditions seems to be just as relevant today as it was back then. I'm a sucker for prison flicks and it makes me feel even more of a sucker for only just discovering this hard-boiled movie this late.

Passport to Shame (Alvin Rakoff, 1958)

This sordid tale of exploitation and manipulation must have been considered very shocking upon its release. Eddie Constantine and Odile Versois are the latest couple to be caught into the web of deceit by gangster pimp Herbert Lom. Somewhat baffled by how much Lom is drawn to Versois while not giving a damn about a stone cold fox like Diana Dors. Tame by today's standards, it's still a fascinating look at the sleazy side of London in the fifties. Look out for an uncredited Michael Caine cameo.

The Servant (Joseph Losey, 1963)

A deeply, subversive pschological drama which goes beyond the typical social class commentary at the start of the film and derails into a halucinatory conclusion of power and dependancy. Dirk Bogarde and James Fox are superb in this. Kicking myself for discovering this film so late and would probably have ignrored it even longer if not for randomly stumbling upon an article on Edgar Wright's list of films which inspired his film Last Night in Soho (2021).

Malpertuis (Harry Kümel, 1971)

Realistically, a film this hard to find (for me at least), really shouldn't qualify here since I have actively sought it out in the past. Directed by Harry Kümel, the same director who gave us the stylish Daughters of Darkness (1971), this horror fantasy is like a feverish dream, where you're never totally sure what on earth is going on. That might deter some individuals, but it's an intriguing film with enough mesmerising scenes, including Orson Welles barking orders on his death bed to his fam, which keeps a film head like me enthralled throughout.

Malatesta's Carnival of Blood (Christopher Speeth, 1973)

File this under "films I would have discovered earlier if I didn't have to dedicate years of my life trawling through Stephen Thrower's breezeblock of a coffee table tome, 'Nightmare USA' just to find out about it." We're here now anyway. Malatesta's Carnival of Blood is a wonderful film which feels like something George A. Romero would have helmed had he peeped Gloria Katz and Willard Huyck's sleeper classic, Messiah of Evil (1973) while on acid. Been burnt one too many times by z-grade horror from that era, but Christopher Speeth's one and only feature film is a veritable diamond in the rough.

Terminal Island (Stephanie Rothman, 1973)

Covered Terminal Island already, but it's worth repeating just how ahead of its time it was. A real shame it's lumped in with the W.i.P films from that era; since it's a subgenre with a very negative reputation. Few film makers are ever given complete carte blanche in realising what they want and Stephanie Rothman was sadly not one of them, but at least this film feels like an amicable comprimise, in my opinion. On a positive note, at least her films are seen in a more positive light, with a renewed retrospective today.

Black Caesar (Larry Cohen, 1973)

Three reasons why Black Caesar rocks so hard for me: it equally sets the template and formula for the onset of rapsploitation flicks that would come along later like Scarface (1983) did; it's blessed with a classic soundtrack by the legendary James Brown; and last, but not least, Fred Williamson exudes the very definition of cool in this film, but carrying a Mauser pistol like da gawd Silence is ice cold badassery.

The Tough Ones (Umberto Lenzi, 1976)

Lenzi's films are usually very hit and miss for me, but the poliziotteschi subgenre appears to be his true calling. Even a desensitised individual like myself has to give The Tough Ones the Dada Debaser seal of approval for ultra violence. It's already an ultimate selling point with Tomas Milian as a hunchback psycho in A.C. Milan colours with a bodycount like Prince, but then you've got Poundland Franco Nero, Maurizio Merli handing out instant justice like he's simultaneously possessed by John Wayne, Charles Bronson and Clint Eastwood. The best poliziotteschi I've seen since Almost Human (1974), and glad I finally caught it.

Angst (Gerald Kargl, 1983)

Shout out to the brother from a Danish mother, CQ for putting me onto this movie back in the day. Regrettably, it took about ten or so years before I finally got off my arse and watched it. This Austrian serial killer drama is an uncomprimising and difficult film to watch. The audience is given a ringside seat as the film's lead, the serial killer K, is released from prison and wreaks sadistic horror upon a poor unsuspecting family. Angst is up there with John McNaughton's Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (1986), and I wouldn't be surprised if it inspired the infamous home invasion sequence. A very tough film to watch, but a superb one, nonetheless.

No doubt there will be further discoveries to come along, so I'll probably do a follow-up post near the end of the year.