The Wish List: Criterion Edition

Fair to say that 2023 was one of the best years for physical media since the COVID-19 lockdowns. It was also the year which redeemed Criterion, the label of choice for annoying cinephiles. Personally, I've always found its reputation as the curator of the crème de la crème in film pompously pretentious, but its 4K releases of Martin Scorsese's After Hours and Tod Browning's Freaks earned it some positive points from me after its censoring of William Friedkin's The French Connection on its streaming channel.

And so, here are six films (I ended up doing one extra by mistake and spent too long writing it to delete it, but I'll pretend it was intentional) which would further elevate my approval of the "prestigious film label" by simultaneously catering to degenerates such as myself and its horrible fanbase consisting of poncey snobs: 

The Sadist (James Landis, 1963)

How is Critierion going to have Terrence Malick's Badlands (1973) and not include the film which started the trend for murderous psycho couples?  James Landis's The Sadist is a shocking film, laced with levels of nihilistic violence that feels well ahead of its time. If that's not enough, it's blessed with stupendous levels of suspense and tension to satisfy the Hitchcock crowd, too. The Sadist might fall under the juvenile deliquency umbrella of exploitation cinema, but it definitely deserves to be evaluated as a legitimately finely honed thriller by all the kino heads. One of my favourite discoveries from last year.

Looking for Mr. Goodbar (Richard Brooks, 1977)

Admittedly, I haven't watched this film since catching it on TV sometime in the mid-eighties, therefore, I really don't know how well it holds up today, but I do remember being intrigued by it. Also, I’m convinced the LL Cool J song serves more as a reference to the film than the actual candy bar of the same name. I do remember the ending being unexpectedly brutal, however. Diane Keaton plays a goody two shoes school teacher by day, who rebels against her strict Catholic upbringing by getting involved with various dodgy blokes in smokey bars at night. Apparently, the film forever changed bar culture by women no longer commonly frequenting watering holes alone It's a shame the film is out of print after casting such a spot light on the perils of hooking-up.

Nineteen Eighty-Four (Michael Radford, 1984)

How weird is it that so many words and phrases originating from George Orwell's classic dystopian nightmare have made it into the English lexicon, and yet, you can barely find Michael Radford's adaptation of it anywhere? A real shame, as it's not only amongst the best British films to have come out during the eighties, but it also boasts the last great performance of the legendary Richard Burton along with John Hurt's brilliant portrayal of protagonist Winston Smith. Nineteen Eighty-Four has been released by Criterion in the US, but it's way too expensive to import it over here, sadly.

Man Bites Dog (Rémy Belvaux, Benoît Poelvoorde & André Bonzel, 1992)

Unlike the August Underground trilogy, this is how the cinéma vérité style should be when realising serial killer(s) on film. Man Bites Dog accomplishes a remarkable feat by simultaneously having me laughing and being disturbed by it. It's an entertaining mockumentary where a roaming film crew become complicit accomplices with their subject matter, a Beligian serial killer. It's a powerful commentary on film violence and how we're desensitised by it. A criminally forgotten film today which had a lot of contoversy upon its release with the tabloid press screaming for it to be banned.

Fresh (Boaz Yakin, 1994)

Thankful for Criterion having released Deep Cover (1992) as it has aged remarkably well today; working well as both a nineties neo-noir and as part of the collective of rapsploitation films which were common during that era. Boaz Yakin's Fresh is another film worthy of the same treatment, as it also straddles the thin line of typical rapsploitation and NY indie cinema. The film contains an impressive cast, which includes Giancarlo Esposito, Samuel L. Jackson and the best child actor since Fool from The People Under the Stairs (1991). Fresh follows the same plot template as Yojimbo (1961), A Fistful of Dollars (1964) and The Warrior and the Sorceress (1984) as they're all based on Dashiell Hammett's novel, Red Harvest.

The Chaser (Na Hong-jin, 2008)

Much like that saying about cunninlingus: for everyone who won't, there's someone who will. South Korean cinema has risen in popularity due to American films not being able to or unwilling to make films they were once lauded for. Na Hong-jin's debut is a fantastic film which feels like the missing link between Old Boy (2003) and I Saw the Devil (2010); that already puts it in good company. It's a shame it doesn't get the appreciation it deserves as it one of the shining offerings which really put Korean cinema on the map for me in the noughties.

Couldn't care less which label releases these films on blu-ray; I just care about making these films easier to get hold of, in all honesty. As mentioned earlier, I don't agree with the echochamber of Criterion being the purveyors of great cinema; they're more of a status label more than anything else, but having more films like the ones listed above might have me improving my opinion on the label.

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.

Worst Movie Accents

Villain ("I'm Vic Dakin!")

Michael Tuchner, 1971

Managed to find a nice rip on YouTube of Endless Night (1972), which is very significant to your humble host as it features both Hayley Mills and Hywel Bennett, the main stars (not to mention Bernard Herrmann composing again) from the underrated classic Twisted Nerve (1968); one of my favourite British psychological thrillers ever. Imagine my shock then when Hayley Mills started speaking in a horrendous American accent in the film. Enter a possible new feature here at Dada Debaser - Worst Movie Accents.

More pleasing than any mega rich Twitch streamer’s ASMR stream, Richard Burton's dulcet voice elicits a commanding yet soothing presence to many ears. A voice so unique that it's instantaneously recognisable even as an offscreen narrator in the ultimate seige movie Zulu (1964) or Jeff Wayne's musical adaptation of War of the Worlds, but what the Bloody Nora was going on with Burton's Cockney accent as sadistic mob boss Vic Dakin in the film Villain (1971)?

Adapted from James Barlow's novel The Burden of Proof, the film's larger than life mobster shares a couple of common attributes with actual East End gangster Ronnie Kray. Sadly, Burton being born within the sound of the Bow Bells isn't one of them. Although blessed with a strong and recognisable cast like Ian McShane and Nigel Davenport, the film is rather unremarkable, save for Burton's accent. It will never cease to crease me up, especially in Benny's torture scene where he orders his lads to "Peek 'im ap! Peek 'im ap!".

Villain (Benny's torture scene)

Michael Tuchner, 1971

 

Villain was released in the same year as another British gangster thriller, Mike Hodges' seminal Get Carter (1971), starring Michael Caine, which left it virtually forgotten in its wake. Half a century later, Villain does serve as an interesting curiosity in British cinema; especially as it exemplified Mockney well before posh sounding actors were cast in Eastenders and Guy Ritchie tainted British gangster films forever.