Viewings: January 2023

Better late than never, but it's a crying shame that I only caught Mike Hodges' superb neo-noir Croupier for the very first time this month. Would have been a worthy entry for my 101 G.O.A.T British Films list, otherwise.

Other notable discoveries were the second film in Nicolas Winding Refn's Pusher trilogy, and the yakuza tragedy Big Time Gambling Boss. 

In terms of more recent films, Candy Land and M3GAN were both a very fine start to 2023. Looking forward to Brandon Cronenberg's Infinity Pool whenever that comes out.

 

Film:

The Lady from Shanghai (Orson Welles, 1947)

Cash on Demand (Quentin Lawrence, 1961)

Big Time Gambling Boss (Kôsaku Yamashita, 1968)*

The Eiger Sanction (Clint Eastwood, 1975)

Absolution (Anthony Page, 1978)

The Medusa Touch (Jack Gold, 1978)

Don’t Answer the Phone! (Robert Hammer, 1980)

Saturday the 14th (Howard R. Cohen, 1981)*

Blade Runner (Ridley Scott, 1982)

Red Spell Spells Red (Titus Ho, 1983)*

The Lost Empire (Jim Wynorski, 1984)*

American Rickshaw (Sergio Martino, 1989)*

Beware: Children at Play (Mik Cribben, 1989)*

Hitcher in the Dark (Umberto Lenzi, 1989)*

964 Pinocchio (Shozin Fukui, 1991)*

Tiger Claws (Kelly Makin, 1991)*

Pulp Fiction (Quentin Tarantino, 1994)

The Stöned Age (James Melkonian, 1994)

Croupier (Mike Hodges, 1998)*

Conversation with a Devil (Andre Nickatina, 2003)*

Pusher II (Nicolas Winding Refn, 2004)*

Hatching (Hanna Bergholm, 2022) 

Candy Land (John Swab, 2023)*

M3GAN (Gerard Johnstone, 2023)*

Television:

Behind the Beat Special: Public Enemy (Terry Jervis, 1988)*

Ghosts - Seasons 1 - 4 (Matthew Baynton, Jim Howick, Laurence Rickard, Martha Howe-Douglas, Bill Willbond & Simon Farnaby, 2019 - 2022)*

Mastermind - Episodes 15 - 19 (Bill Wright, 2022 - 2023)*

 

*First time viewings.

Dada Debaser Notes:

• The last few minutes of Beware: Children at Play are the only memorable scenes from it.
  
• I can totally accept a Sergio Martino film where rickshaw pullers are akin to celebrities in Miami, or Donald Pleasence shape changing into a pig, but my suspension of disbelief is broken when the female lead is a flat-chested topless dancer that happens to be popular.
  
• Always remember seeing Saturday the 14th in various video shops in the early eighties. Finally watched it and it wasn't worth the effort.
  
• Umberto Lenzi has got to be one of the most non-PC film makers of all time. Naively expected Hitcher in the Dark to have been a much tamer effort from him, but it got real dark.
  
• Red Spell Spells Red was a blind watch where I had no idea it contained so much actual animal cruelty. Bizarrely borrows Jerry Goldsmith's compositions from The Omen (1976) and First Blood (1982) for its score, too.
• Always loved Clint Eastwood's underrated The Eiger Sanction, but I've also appreciated it for being the source of a killer sample by The Beatnuts.
  
• Separated at birth: Marty from Slaughter High (1986) and Arthur from Absolution (1978).
  

Pulpit Pit Stop

Candy Land (John Swab, 2023)

Taking into account that we're in the period of the winter duldrums where the only movies on offer tend to be Oscar bait contenders and tax write-offs, it's a pleasant surprise to have a genuinely good film coming out during this traditionally sparse time.

John Swab's film, Candy Land is a successful blend of artsploitation and faux-grindhouse. Considering it was produced in 2021, rescued from festival limbo, and then finally made available this year, it's a welcome movie for this humble blogger. It's a blessing in disguise too, since its festive setting isn't another shameless alternative Christmas cash-in, but serves as a reflective period for its characters. Perhaps the least exploitative aspect of this film, in hindsight, since it's otherwise a winning example of capturing the mean-spirited and sleazy tone of genre cinema from a bygone era.

Set at a remote truck stop location, where a collective of sex workers eke out a miserable existance peddling their services, a dramatic curveball occurs when Remy (Olivia Luccardi), a young woman from a religious cult, is left abandoned at the truck stop. Lizard lot camaraderie takes poor Remy under its wing. From there we learn about this gang and witness the dangers of the profession that's as old as Methuselah.

What sets this simple film apart from most other grindhouse throwbacks is its no f@cks given over modern day sensibilites; which is altogether refreshing, in my opinion. It makes it a more sincere effort and an obvious stand-out from all the plethora of faux-exploitation films lacking authenticity and just apeing it aesthetically. Thus, Candy Land is a rare success in this department. Despite being conveniently set in the year 1996, the film has the raw punch of seventies genre cinema. It does not hold back. Some scenes are really brutal, while quiet moments are an obvious calm before the storm.

Of course, the film benefits greatly from its cast: Olivia Luccardi's lead performance is an obvious major highlight, but the supporting cast are also very effective; particularly Sam Quartin and Owen Campbell as part of Remy's adoptive family. William Baldwin is a strange casting choice as the thoroughly callous Sheriff Rex, but he's also good here. All in all, the performances are a core element providing this drama turned horror with a level of maturity that's sadly lacking in many of its peers.

Swab's direction is very competent and mature for a film with this subject matter. It's also beautifully shot at times, which is a surprise when you consider it's filmed in crummy motel rooms and public restrooms. There's also the additional factor that it makes the most of its refreshingly short run time by switching things up very early on and revealing the killer's identity. This might be detrimental to some, but the motives and actions of its killer are no less compelling to witness unfolding on screen. In summary, Candy Land is an enjoyable and brave throwback to a style of film that's been hard to replicate well in modern times and a fine one to get this year rolling.

Don't You Worry 'Bout The Thing

Following on from my recent John Carpenter post, here's a trivial, but no less interesting follow-up.

The Thing (Superstition scene)

John Carpenter, 1982 

Can't really recall when I first heard Stevie Wonder's classic song Superstition, but my mate Chris always swore it was featured in a scene from what's arguably's John Carpenter's best film, The Thing (1982). Always thought he was talking B.S as I never remembered it appearing in the film. Almost forty years later (that's when I finally bothered to check), the internet has proven him right. It's also listed in the Alternate Versions section of the film on IMDb, meaning it's been permablocked from my mind, thanks to whoever edited out of the film:

 

Stevie Wonder -  Superstition

Live on Sesame Street, 1973

Concluding this post by stating that the best live version of the song isn't from some candle-lit, intimate gig attended by chin-stroking music journos and bourgeois elites, but rather when Stevie's band performed it on the kids show Sesame Street (1968 -) in 1973. A ground zero event. From that day on, all subsequent live musical performances must have been rendered redundant for the lucky people who were on the set.

The Moment I Feared: Part 6

The House that Bled to Death / Hammer House of Horror (Cold Opening scene)

Tom Clegg, 1980

Nostalgia can be a terrible thing and having revisited the early eighties television series, Hammer House of Horror during one of the lockdowns, I realised some of the episodes had aged badly. What still remains great, however, is the episode The House that Bled to Death.

An elderely couple having a simple cup of cocoa takes a sinister turn during the pre-credits scene. For your host, it's perhaps the most disturbing scene to carry the Hammer tag. It was bad enough seeing a poor old dear being poisoned, but made all the worse when her awful husband retrieved a sharpening stone and a knife off the wall to dispose of her. The scene has forever haunted me ever since.

The House that Bled to Death wasn't just a one trick pony either as it also featured the infamous birthday party scene; turning a regular semi-detached in High Wycombe into the show's namesake. The most fondly remembered sequence from the entire series never instilled the same level of fear as that cold opening scene for me, but it's still an entertaining moment, regardless:

The House that Bled to Death / Hammer House of Horror (Sophie's Birthday Party scene)

Tom Clegg, 1980

 

LOL @ the Hammer House of Horror theme reminding someone of  Parisienne Walkways in the YouTube comments:

Morlar & Me

The Medusa Touch (Jack Gold, 1978)

Back in the day, Roger Ebert proclaimed Jack Gold's The Medusa Touch (1978) his worst film of the  year. That's one reason, amongst a list of many, why I never cared for his opinions on film. From overrated hack to underrated gem, this is an opportune time to revist the supernatural thriller since it features one of my favourite roles played by Richard Burton. The Welsh actor made amends with this film after the godawful Exorcist II: The Heretic (1977). Other than Morricone's music, there's nothing else worth salvaging from that abomination.

Burton plays misanthropic writer John Morlar; "the man with the power to create catastrophe". The film unfolds as a kind of whodunnit? While Morlar lies comatose in hospital and in the immediate wake of a horrific airplane disaster in London, it's left to French exchange copper, Detective Inspector Brunel, played by a dubbed Lino Ventura (this is a British and French co-production, afterall), to put the pieces together like they were Morlar's brains. 

What makes the film so deliciously enjoyable are the various events from Morlar's life. These are told through a series of flashbacks via people who knew him; mostly by his psychiatrist, Dr. Zonfeld, played by Lee Remick. Burton makes these scenes the highlights of the film; which means alot as he got paid half a mil for three weeks work before bouncin' and there are a bunch of crazy setpieces happening while someone else pretends to be him under all those bandages. Fave of the lot is when Morlar's neighbours are having a domestic over a rotten fish and Burton ends up losing his shit from all the noise leading to a comedic conclusion.

The Medusa Touch shares common DNA with a range of other seventies films revolving around the theme of telekinesis: Carrie (1976), Ruby (1977), The Fury (1978), but most of all, the classic Australian horror, Patrick (1978). The latter moreso, largely because both leads are lying in comatose state while causing mayhem from their hospital bed. The Medusa Touch also shares the whole prophetic doom and gloom associated with Damien: Omen II (1978). Both films also share a classroom scene where the "protagonist" displays the upperhand over their respective teachers. The film also has a common association with the disaster films which were popular during that time; including an Irwin Allen style plane crash, that's surprisingly poignant after 9/11.

The film's pacing is also a breeze to sit through. Brunel's investigation is rarely stifled by any constant gas lighting once he realises Morlar isn't exactly an innocent victim, and may indeed contain supernatural powers. All too often in any film, particularly in horror, a fantastical concept can often be met with so much resistance, the flow of the film becomes potentially hampered. Not so in The Medusa Touch. Harry Andrews, who plays the Assistant Commissioner, diverges away from the traditional secondary villain you would come to expect in a film of this type, with an act of heroism for the film's big cathedral scene, while Morlar literally brings "the whole edifice down on their unworthy heads". A refreshing break from the traditional norm.

In retrospect, The Medusa Touch serves as another example of that whole dark pessimism which was so prevalent in seventies cinema. What makes the film a notable standout from its other supernatural brethren is its occassional levity. Hardly enough to ruin the film's doomer tone, but it's a welcome breather from all the seriousness going on; giving it a distinctive British charm all of its own. The Medusa Touch is an underrated gem and well worth checking out.

Megablast from the Past

Celebrating John Carpenter's birthday today with a prime example of the legendary film maker's influence upon popular culture.

The BBC series on film, Moviedrome was like Obi-Wan Kenobi to your humble host, as it helped me take my "first step into a larger world". My discovery of John Carpenter's siege thriller, Assault on Precinct 13 (1976) was when Alex Cox first introduced it back in 1990. This wasn't my first Carpenter film, but it was an early example of a developing appreciation for certain film makers.

John Carpenter - Assault on Precinct 13 (Main Title)

Assault on Precinct 13 soundtrack, 1976

Record Makers · John Carpenter - Assault On Precinct 13 (Main Title)

Being a teenager at the time, imagine my surprise when I first heard that opening main theme blaring out and realising this was where Bomb The Bass got that awesomely catchy riff for the dance tune Megablast; a track forever associated with the Amiga shoot 'em up game, Xenon 2: Megablast (1989). In hindsight, this was perhaps the earliest example of Carpenter's presence being felt not just in cinema, but in other forms of popular entertainment for yours truly.

Bomb The Bass - Megablast

Don't Make Me Wait/Megablast single, 1988

 

InWaxWeTrust · Bomb The Bass - Megablast

Since then, Assault on Precinct 13's theme and Megablast have been the select few pleasant and permanent earworms in this blogger's noggin. Cheers, J.C! Happy 75th!

EDIT: The day after this post, American Genre Film Archive (AGFA) unveiled the 4K restoration trailer for the upcoming cinema screening of Assault on Precinct 13. Deaf Crocodile has been working on this since the lockdowns, if I remember correctly.

Man with a Video Camera

Ruggero Deodato was hardly a darling film maker, so his passing last month was something of a pleasant shock receiving coverage in various mainstream media circles. Notorious, Italian jungle horror, Cannibal Holocaust (1980) is often credited as the grandfather of found footage films. So realistic was its depiction of human savagery, thanks to the cinéma vérité technique, Deodato wound up facing murder charges. Despite signing a contract to keep a low profile for a year, his cast members were urged to come to his rescue and prove his innoncence.

We've had the likes of Ghostwatch (1992) and The Last Broadcast (1998), but it wasn't until the massive success of The Blair Witch Project (1999) when the format became a mainstay for the following decades. Blumhouse Productions became a lucrative company, largely attributed to its Paranormal Activity franchise. The format also birthed various shaky cam ridiculousness like a poorly designed kaiju monster running amok in New York being told from a human perspective. The gonzo style found footage film was being applied to various outlandish concepts and wasn't leaving any time soon.

Without further ado, here's a selection of personal favourite found footage films:

[REC] (Jaume Belagueró & Paco Plaza, 2007): One of the greatest horror films of the noughties. What starts off as a filler "And finally..." news report for a late night TV crew, escalates into an utterly terrifying survival horror. Not going to lie, I still feel a little uneasy sitting in the pitch dark watching this film; very few films have ever made me feel like that. The film spawned a franchise; its follow-up sequel also being another strong contender, in my opinion.

Lake Mungo (Joel Anderson, 2008): A mockumentary that serves equally as a slowburn mystery as well as a supernatural chiller. One of the highlights from the period of the mid to late 00s that was  something of a mini-renaissance for Australian horror. 

Trollhunter (André Øvredal, 2010): Remarkable film that crosses fairy tale legend with the real world. This incredible mockumentary is amongst the greatest films of the 2010s, for this humble blogger.

Grave Encounters (The Vicious Brothers, 2011): A film that was probably based on that time when comedienne Jo Brand spent the night in a derelict mental hospital. Along with some well executed scares and its creepy atmosphere, what makes Grave Encounters such a stand out was it was the first example I had seen of the time limbo effect; a feature that was ripped-off by that mostly mediocre Blair Witch (2016) requel.

The Bay (Barry Levinson, 2012): Who would have thought that one of the best ecological horror films to come along in ages would be by the same bloke who gave us Rain Man (1998)? So much fun seeing how this escalates into a horrific epidemic disaster. 

The Borderlands (Elliot Goldner, 2013): Of the small wave of Vatican related films that cropped up during the 2010s, Brit horror, The Borderlands was the best one I watched. Gordon Kennedy from Absolutely (1989 - 1993) plays one of the two Vatican's investigators sent to a remote English church to disprove the supernatural occurences. The Borderlands contains one of the most memorable film horror endings from the last ten years.

The Den (Zachary Donohue, 2013): While the horror yoots were clamouring over internet horror, Unfriended (2014), The Den aka Hacked, went completely under the radar of most folk. A cyber-horror that does a superior job of propelling fear and paranoia than any supernatural revenge by a girl who shat her kecks.

V/H/S/2 (Various, 2013): A vast improvement over its predecessor. If only the rest of the subsequent sequels in this anthology series were just as good. Arguably, the best short film is Safe Haven, co-directed by Gareth Evans from the masterful The Raid action films.

As Above, So Below (John Erick Dowdle, 2014): AKA Lara Croft and the Philosopher's Stone. Subterranean set horror can offer a lot of atmospheric dread, and having this located in the famous catacombs and caverns below Paris makes it an enthralling experience. The only memomarable offering in this vein by a major studio.

The Taking of Deborah Logan (Adam Robitel, 2014): A documentary crew charting the plight of an elderly woman with Alzheimer's Disease, get something all the more unexpected. It's harrowing enough seeing the disease's ravaging effects on people, but something else entirely seems to be affecting Deborah.

Jeruzalem (Doron Paz & Yoav Paz, 2015): The weakest film listed here. Part shameless advertisement for Google Glass and part Judgement Day. The end of the world is unfolding in the ancient city of Jerusalem, but not before the viewer has to tolerate a vacation video for a huge chunk of time that feels like a Jet2 holidays commercial. Makes you thankful that it’s Armageddon time, innit?

Deadstream (Joseph Winter & Vanessa Winter, 2022): Already covered this film last month. If Deadstream hasn't already convinced you it's a spirtitual successor to Raimi's The Evil Dead (1981) then you only have to compare its trailer with that recently released, dull looking one for Evil Dead Rise (2023). Just when I thought found footage was out, the Winters pull me back in.

In summary, found footage films have been an insightful cultural phenomenom: a perfect example of people's love for voyeaurism, running parallel with the rise of reality television; simultaneously, they've also put us in a role akin to a bored guard during night watch and having to stare at a CCTV console. Interested to see where this format will go in the forseeable future with the progression of technical advancements in video capturing and streaming tech.

Worst Movie Accents: Part 3

The Lady from Shangai ("Sharks" Forshadowing scene)

Orson Welles, 1947

 

Considered a deity amongst some fanatical cineaste folk, Orson Welles gave the world Citizen Kane (1941) at the tender age of just twenty-six. That was enough to earn him a free pass with whatever erroenous error he might have commited throughout the rest of his professional career.

Film noir, The Lady from Shanghai (1947) was a side-project for Welles, since he was only obligated with it inorder to raise funds for his musical adaptation of Jules Verne's Around the World in Eighty Days. This level of half-hearted commitment would lead into the film being an expensive and troubled production; not just in terms of causing a shitstorm of problems with Hollywood's workers' union, but with his deteriorating marriage with his onscreen co-star, Rita Hayworth.

Haven't read Sherwood King's If I Die Before I Wake, the film's original source material, to find out whether its protagonist spoke in an Irish accent, but I do know when I hear a terrible one that's on par with Cameron Diaz's godawful accent in Gangs of New York (2002). Welles' accent, while hilarious, genuinely hurts the film as it's hard to appreciate spoken word nuances or pivotal forshadowing, like how he compares his employers to frenzied sharks. Thankfully, the finale isn't hampered by a stereotypical, mock Irish accent that could have come from Warwick Davis in the Leprechaun franchise, but artistic eye candy for my film tastes; ending a flawed production on a particular a high note.

The climax, which includes some obvious inspiration from Robert Wiene's The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920), would also be the forbearer to other notable films down the road, including: Bruce Lee's showdown with Han in Enter the Dragon (1973); Scaramanga's contest with Bond in The Man With the Golden Gun (1974); and more recently Col. Parker's Faustian seduction of the King of Rock & Roll in Elvis (2022). The Lady from Shanghai might not be one of Welles' strongest films, but it's abundantly clear, its artistic legacy would be homaged decades later.

The Lady from Shanghai (Funhouse & Hall of Mirrors scenes)

Orson Welles, 1947

Picks of 2013

2013 may have been the year Miley Cyrus achieved the impossible and turned twerking cringeworthy, but it happened to be a productive year for film (for my standards at least). Colour me surprised just how diverse the year really was that I hadn't even realised until ten years had passed.

The passage of time had also made me kinder towards certain films that annoyed me initially, like the Evil Dead remake or Simon Pegg's excrutiatingly, annoying whining prominently featured in The World's End.

Alan Partidge: Alpha Papa (Declan Lowney)

Blue is the Warmest Colour (Abdellatif Kechiche)

The Borderlands (Elliot Goldner)

The Conjuring (James Wan)

The Den (Zachary Donohue)

Evil Dead (Fede Alvarez)

Filth (Jon S. Baird)

I Spit on Your Grave 2 (Steven R. Monroe)

Nymphomaniac: Vol. I & II (Lars von Trier)

Only God Forgives (Nicolas Winding Refn)

Pain & Gain (Michael Bay)

Riddick (David Twohy)

Spring Breakers (Harmony Korine)

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

Under the Skin (Jonathan Glazer)

Venus in Fur (Roman Polanski)

V/H/S/2 (Simon Barret, Adam Wingard, Eduardo Sánchez, Greg Hale, Timo Tjahjanto, Gareth Evans & Jason Eisener)

Why Don't You Play in Hell? (Sion Sono)

Wolf Creek 2 (Greg McLean)

The Wolf of Wall Street (Martin Scorsese)

The World's End (Edgar Wright)

You're Next (Adam Wingard)*

Additionally, 2013 was also noteworthy because Harmony Korine's knack in passing off exploitation movies as sophisticated cinema for gullible kino heads and my general lowbrow sense of humour had actually found common ground with Spring Breakers. A hilarious film that I've watched on multiple occasions; unlike anything else I've seen by him. The Everytime montage scene alone makes it a winner, in my humble opinion.

The Fordyce Saga

Cash on Demand (Quentin Lawrence, 1961)

Hammer Films wasn't always synonymous with horror back in the day. Multiple film genres were also produced alongside the splattering of Kensington gore, such as prehistoric adventures, science fiction and war films; its biggest box office success was On the Buses (1971), a film spin-off to the popular television sitcom. 

Quentin Lawrence's Cash on Demand (1961) happens to be the studio's most underrated gem. A lean and tense Brit noir set in a small bank in the south-west of England. Adapted from Jacques Gilles' play The Gold Inside (1960), this heist thriller circumvents its obvious low budget and restricted location with great effect by focusing in riveting character studies for its two main characters, along with some creative plot twists along the way.

The film's major selling point is its two powerhouse performance from Peter Cushing as the dictatorial bank manager, Fordyce; along with André Morrell's devilish crook Col. Gore Hepburn. Both actors had worked together prior to this film, notably in Nineteen Eighty-Four (1954) and The Hound of the Baskervilles (1958). Their familiarity would probably explain the sublime chemistry between the pair since they constantly act and react like Newton's third law of physics. This results in a palpable atmosphere so intense that it leaves a lingering impression long after the film is over. Morrell's duplicitous manner and threats which turns Cushing's cold authoritarian into an emotional wreck makes for a very compelling psychological battle. A prime example of this is Morrell's utterly chilling threat to Cushing early on in the film:

"There are two men at your house. At this moment, your wife has an electrode attached to each side of her head. If you fail to co-operate with us in any way whatever, they will pass a charge through the circuit. It is extremely painful and I'm afraid the effects of it are permanent. She would never recover her wits."

Worth mentioning that Cash on Demand takes obvious inspiration from Charles Dickens' novella A Christmas Carol. Fordyce obviously being Ebenezer Scrooge, while Col. Hepburn would more than likely be the Ghost of Christmas Present. Its Christmas setting is another dead giveaway. Ultimately the viewer is treated to Fordyce being brought to crucial turning point in his life that would forever change him.

Considering it represents a quintessentially British style of heist film; one that's a far cry from the violent, gun-totting crooks you would picture from American crime thrillers, Cash on Demand was first distributed in the U.S. by Columbia Pictures and was not released in Britain until 1963 - two whole years later. Being on the backburner for so long did the film no favours. A huge shame. Still, it's now regarded as something of a long lost classic, where it's championed by the likes of Hammer expert and film historian Jonathan Rigby as one of the legendary studio's best films. Thoroughly agree with his sentiment.

Blessed be Dada Debaser

Happy New Year!

We finally reached the same timeline as when The Purge: Anarchy (2014) was set; AKA, the best film in the entire franchise. Granted, I never even bothered with the last two films or that television series rotting on Prime's servers. In my defence, hardly anybody else did either. Taking obvious inspiration from both The Warriors (1979) and Escape from New York (1981) is enough to put it on a higher pedestal than the rest of the franchise alone, but also because Frank Grillo embodied the cool factor of a B-movie action star (excluding that time he rocked a Gareth Bale man bun in Copshop (2021), obviously); even while cruising in his whip. Now compare Reddit messiah, Keanu Reeves having to go through such an extreme effort in the same Dodge Charger as John Wick to even equal that level of appeal.

Being Frank.

With the ringing in of the new year, I was going to go post a list of nuisances I wouldn't mind being purged in 2023 (like Richard Madeley), but I've effectively done that already by cancelling a bunch of streaming subscriptions from this month. Gives me a fighting chance to tackle the daunting unwatched pile of films I've got; which grew exponentially like The Blob last year.