Showing posts with label merry christmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label merry christmas. Show all posts

Thursday, December 25, 2025

No Flesh Shall Be Spared

Hardware (Richard Stanley, 1990)

2000AD was a weekly comic I would read throughout most of the 1980s and early 1990s. It was a font of creative talent exemplifying the comic book renaissance at the time; some of that talent, would be poached by the Big Two (Marvel and D.C.) and eventually see their works adapted into film.

It's no big secret that Paul Verhoeven's sci-fi classic, Robocop (1987), took blatant inspiration from 2000AD's flagship lawman Judge Dredd during its pre-production.

Similarly, writer and director Richard Stanley tapped into the Dreddverse with his debut feature film Hardware (1990). Evidently, Fleetway Publications, the owner of 2000AD, thought Stanley's film was doing more than just taking inspiration and successfully won a copyright case against it. Despite Stanley denying he ever read, SHOK!, the seven page story which first appeared in the 1981 Judge Dredd annual. Thus, SHOK!'s creators, Steve MacManus and Kevin O'Neill, were credited subsequent prints of the film.

Hardware is set in a dystopian future ravaged by atomic warfare. Nomads scavenge for scrap in an irradiated wasteland. Ex marine, Hard Mo' Baxter (Dylan McDermott), acquires a robot skull from one particular nomad. He gifts it to his sculptor girlfriend Jill (Stacey Travis) upon his long return home as a Christmas present. (Yes, it's a Christmas movie!) However, both Mo' and Jill are unaware that the skull is part of a deadly M.A.R.K. 13 robot capable of resourcing power, reassembling itself and delivering a fatal toxin. Furthermore, it is later revealed that the M.A.R.K. 13 was programmed by the government to reduce the human population.

The mise-en-scène is central to Richard Stanley’s vision, with the plot serving as secondary.  Dystopian cyberpunk imagery is prevalent. Future tech, metallic junk and urban rubble are everywhere. Computer generated wire-mesh visuals rotate on crummy monitors. Steam is ejected from unknown vents. And colourful lights cast Bava-esque beauty on metallic surfaces. Hardware is an unapologetic film that's all about style over substance. 

This is a nightmarish future. A stark example of the grim state of the human race is a child tied to its deceased mother on a forgotten apartment level. Furthermore, nonchalant media announcements for enforced sterilisations commencing in the New Year are chilling.

The performances are mixed. Stacey Travis and Dylan McDermott are great as the leads, maintaining professional composure throughout Richard Stanley’s avant-garde direction. They do their best with the material that they have available. John Lynch’s character Shades, is both shallow and superfluous. This is largely due to the character’s flat profile rather than Lynch's performance. Additionally, his Ray Bans and aviator jacket would have been more suited on a background extra in Top Gun than here. The character's solo scene, in which he appears high in his apartment, adds nothing to the film and is a time waster.

Mark Nothover plays Alvy, a dwarf junkyard trader whose voice appears to have been dubbed by an American actor. Despite his limited screen time Alvy’s role is more integral to the film than Shades and genuinely serves a purpose. The merchant is the one who discovers how dangerous the M.A.R.K. 13 is; adding urgency to the mix.

William Hootkins, best known for his role as fat X-Wing pilot Jak Porkins in Star Wars, plays Jill’s stalker neighbour. He is memorable as an odious pervert and for his bizarre singing of They All Walk the Wibbly-Wobbly Walk . You’re just praying for him to die horribly.

Given Richard Stanley’s background as a music director (credited for directing Superfly Guy by S-Express and Blue Pearl’s Naked in the Rain), he features several musicians in his film. The aforementioned nomad is played by Carl McCoy of Fields of the Nephilim, while Lemmy of Motörhead is a water taxi driver, crossing a polluted river with Ace of Spades playing on his stereo. However, the most memorable cameo is Iggy Pop as the off-screen DJ Angry Bob, whose over-the-top performance is notably quote-worthy::

"This is Angry Bob, the man with the industrial dick. Coming at you loud and clear on W.A.R. Radio. Rise and shine, folks! It's a beautiful day! Just look at that sky; it's a work of art. Huh! Nature never knew colours like that. And a friendly reminder: when you look at it, be sure to wear your shades! The radiation count's way up in the heatwave and ain't expected to let up, either. Weather Control tell us it'll probably hit 110 down town, before nightfall. As for the good news: there is no fucking good news! So let's rock with one of our golden oldies" - Angry Bob

Elsewhere, Public Image Ltd’s The Order of Death is prominently featured in the film. Soundtrack composer Simon Boswell provides an original score, consisting of loud industrial  and brash synthesisers. It may be considered intrusive by some, but complements the film’s high tech and junkyard metal aesthetic.

The film’s premise, a woman confined to her apartment with a killer robot, may evoke moments from other science fiction films such as Saturn 3 (1980) and The Terminator (1984), but Richard Stanley seems to forgo all that for much of Hardware's run time and spend most of it on the cool cyberpunk world he's realised. Admirable as that might sound, it does come at the expense of a very long wait for some slasher style action. At least forty minutes have to pass by before the M.A.R.K. 13 begins its murderous rampage. 

An example of Stanley's avant-garde approach is the surreal sequence involving the deadly toxin running through the veins of one character. A hallucinatory M.A.R.K. 13 appears like a dance artist on Top of the Pops, followed with acid trip style spiral patterns. Dramatic opera music soundtracks the fatal psychedelic experience.

Hardware did not resonate with me, initially. Despite its connection to my teenage interests at the time, its unorthodox style was too ostentatious for my liking. However, the film has grown on me considerably since then; largely due to its technical merits being so accomplished on a shoe-string budget (less than £1M, believe it or not). It retains a remarkable cyberpunk aesthetic that is both stunning and more stylish than numerous bigger budgeted studio efforts. 

Although not an easy recommendation, it is definitely worth checking out for any sci-fi film enthusiast and fan of cult cinema. Better than Alphaville, that's for sure.

Merry Christmas!

Wednesday, December 25, 2024

I Got Ninety-Nine Films, but Les Biches Ain’t One

Found a challenge for cinephiles over on Letterboxd that I shamelessly stole. You can read the original challenge rules here. The best 100 films sourced from TSPDT's list of the top 250 directors - one film per selected director.

At the very least that would give me some leeway, right? Wrong. The original list turned out to be filled with films by overrated pinko hacks, foreign film makers no one had heard of, and the pretentious shite men pretend to like to score with artsy women. This was a tougher challenge than I imagined and it turned into something of an obsession.

Various individual auteurs have way too many classics, but I ended up including my own personal fave pick from their filmography, despite not being regarded as their best by others.

Evidently, based on the blog title alone, I failed. I couldn't find that one last worthy entry and hit one hundred great films.

Here's the list regardless:

A Trip to the Moon (Georges Méliès, 1902)
The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (Robert Wiene, 1920)
Nosferatu (F. W. Murnau, 1922)
M (Fritz Lang, 1931)
Frankenstein (James Whale, 1931)
Freaks (Tod Browning, 1932)
Duck Soup (Leo McCarey, 1933)
King Kong (Merian C. Cooper, Ernest B. Schoedsack, 1933)
The Wizard of Oz (Victor Fleming, 1939)
The Maltese Falcon (John Huston, 1941)
Casablanca (Michael Curtiz, 1942)
I Walked with a Zombie (Jacques Tourneur, 1943)
The Big Sleep (Howard Hawks, 1946)
A Matter of Life and Death (Emeric Pressburger, Michael Powell, 1946)
Kind Hearts and Coronets (Robert Hamer, 1949)
The Third Man (Carol Reed, 1949)
White Heat (Raoul Walsh, 1949)
In a Lonely Place (Nicholas Ray, 1950)
The Day the Earth Stood Still (Robert Wise, 1951)
Les Diabolique (Henri-Georges Clouzot, 1955)
The Ladykillers (Alexander Mackendrick, 1955)
The Bridge on the River Kwai (David Lean, 1955)
Witness for the Prosecution (Billy Wilder, 1957)
Touch of Evil (Orson Welles, 1958)
The Magician (Ingmar Bergman, 1958)
Eyes Without a Face (Georges Franju, 1960)
Le Trou (Jacques Becker, 1960)
Peeping Tom (Michael Powell, 1960)
Psycho (Alfred Hitchcock, 1960)
The Servant (Joseph Losey, 1963)
The Hill (Sidney Lumet, 1965)
The Collector (William Wyler, 1965)
Bunny Lake Is Missing (Otto Preminger, 1965)
For a Few Dollars More (Sergio Leone, 1965)
The Battle of Algiers (Gillo Pontecorvo, 1966)
Belle de Jour (Luis Buñuel, 1967)
The Dirty Dozen (Robert Aldrich, 1967)
Bonnie and Clyde (Arthur Penn, 1967)
Rosemary's Baby (Roman Polanski, 1968)
Targets (Peter Bogdanovich, 1968)
The Wild Bunch (Sam Peckinpah, 1969)
Army of Shadows (Jean-Pierre Melville, 1969)
The French Connection (William Friedkin, 1971)
Dirty Harry (Don Siegel, 1971)
Deliverance (John Boorman, 1972)
Aguirre, the Wrath of God (Werner Herzog, 1972)
Don't Look Now (Nicolas Roeg, 1973)
High Plains Drifter (Clint Eastwood, 1973)
Badlands (Terence Malick, 1973)
The Parallax View (Alan J. Paluka, 1974)
The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Tobe Hooper, 1974)
Jaws (Steven Spielberg, 1975)
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (Miloš Forman, 1975)
Picnic at Hanging Rock (Peter Weir, 1975)
Marathon Man (John Schlesinger, 1976)
Carrie (Brian De Palma, 1976)
The Pink Panther Strikes Again (Blake Edwards, 1976)
Star Wars (George Lucas)
Suspiria (Dario Argento, 1977)
Dawn of the Dead (George A. Romero, 1978)
Apocalypse Now (Francis Ford Coppola, 1979)
The Elephant Man (David Lynch, 1980)
The Shining (Stanley Kubrick, 1980)
Mad Max 2 (George Miller, 1981)
Time Bandits (Terry Gilliam, 1981)
Blade Runner (Ridley Scott, 1982)
The Thing (John Carpenter, 1982)
Zelig (Woody Allen, 1983)
This Is Spinal Tap (Rob Reiner, 1984)
The Terminator (James Cameron, 1984)
Ran (Akira Kurosawa, 1985)
Back to the Future (Robert Zemeckis, 1985)
Down by Law (Jim Jarmusch, 1986)
Manhunter (Michael Mann, 1986)
The Fly (David Cronenberg, 1986)
Platoon (Oliver Stone, 1986)
Raising Arizona (Joel Coen, Ethan Coen, 1987)
Robocop (Paul Verhoeven, 1987)
Do the Right Thing (Spike Lee, 1989)
Drugstore Cowboy (Gus Van Sant, 1989)
Goodfellas (Martin Scorsese, 1990)
Point Break (Kathryn Bigelow, 1991)
The Silence of the Lambs (Jonathan Demme, 1991)
Braindead (Peter Jackson, 1992)
Ed Wood (Tim Burton, 1994)
Serial Mom (John Waters, 1994)
Pulp Fiction (Quentin Tarantino, 1994)
Boogie Nights (Paul Thomas Anderson, 1997)
Fight Club (David Fincher, 1999)
The Matrix (Lana Wachowski, Lilly Wachowski, 1999)
Memento (Christopher Nolan, 2000)
Children of Men (Alfonso Cuarón, 2006)
We Need to Talk About Kevin (Lynne Ramsey, 2011)
The Skin I Live In (Pedro Almodóvar, 2011)
Holy Motors (Leos Carax, 2012)
Hard to Be a God (Aleksei German, 2013)
The Grand Budapest Hotel (Wes Anderson, 2014)
The House That Jack Built (Lars Von Trier, 2018)
Parasite (Bong Joon-ho, 2019)

Reasons Why TSPDT's List Sucks:

  • Why are genre film makers like Tobe Hooper, John Carpenter and George A. Romero listed, while Wes Craven is omitted? All those directors experienced similar highs and lows.
  • Michael Powell is listed twice in TSPDT's list; one on his own, and the other with Emeric Pressburger. I took this a valuable loophole to get closer to one hundred films. Besides, both films I listed are legitimately great.
  • Wound up including certain rare great films from film makers that I'm not even a fan of, or in some cases - despise.
  • Don't blame me for the miniscule number of 21st century titles. The likes of great contemporary auteurs such as Robert Eggers, Nicolas Winding Refn and Jonathan Frasier not being available says more about the source I had to work with. Here's your host's highest rated 21st century films.
  • TSPDT's original list included Peter Greenaway and Ken Russell, but they were given the heave-ho for other film makers I was unfamiliar with, or just couldn't give a toss about. This was crucially costly for me as either The Devils (1971) and The Cook, the Thief, His Wife & Her Lover (1989) would have helped me hit the finish line.

Please excuse the lack of a Christmas related post this year, this challenge took way too much time. Between all the "classics" and 2024 movies binged this month, it was too much. Also, I just couldn't be bothered, to be totally honest. Merry Christmas, though!!!

Sunday, December 24, 2023

Joan to the World

Amicus Productions' adaptations of EC Comics' bone chilling strories are the stuff of legend for a generation of Brits weened on seventies horror. They are the gold standard for horror film anthologies.

Freddie Francis's Tales from the Crypt (1972) is amongst the most celebrated of the lot; five ghoulish tales blessed with an amazing wraparound featuring Sir Ralph Richardson as the hooded Crypt Keeper.

The first of these stories is ...And All Through the House adapted from The Vault of Horror #35 (February–March 1954) - a festive murder tale with a chilling twist starring the iconic screen siren Joan Collins. The stone cold fox turns stone cold killer after she cracks open her husband's noggin with a poker on Christmas Eve.

Other than Dame Joan Collins looking like an absolute dame in this macabre tale, witnessing her tiptoeing between murderous black widow and parental mother, makes this an alluring watching experience. While dealing with her husband's body, she has to constantly quell her restless daughter's excitement for Santa Claus – serious multi-tasking.

Making matters worse, a newsflash on the radio announces a dangerous psychopath has escaped from the local funny farm and is thought to be in the area dressed as Santa Claus. With little surprise, the said maniac is soon knocking on Joan's door and peering through her windows searching for a way to get in:

"We interrupt this programme for a special announcement: A man described as a homicidal maniac has escaped from the hospital for the criminally insane. He is 6 foot 3 inches tall,  210 pounds, dark eyes, bald, and may be wearing a Santa Claus costume taken from a shop in Burley. All residents of the county are warned to be on the look out for this man, and to phone the police if they see him. We now continue our programme of carols for Christmas Eve."

Joan can't exactly call the police for help after just murdering her other half, therefore, she's frantically locking all the doors and windows to keep the maniac out. Unfortunately for her, Carol (how festively appropriate), her daughter, has let the deranged killer in the house thinking it's Santa Claus. "He's here, mummy! I let him in, it's Santa." The grubby and insane maniac dressed as Santa Claus creepily makes his way to our Joan and strangles her.

There are some minor differences between this version of the story and the original EC Comics publication. Francis's adaptation is the better version, in my opinion. That's largely because it contains less dialogue and feels more streamlined. Actions speak louder than words and so much is told through Joan's performance, along with the amazing Christmas atmosphere of the set design and the carols sung on the radio. It's perhaps my favourite killer Santa story captured on film.

Robert Zemeckis helmed a 1989 version of ...And All Through the House for the Tales from the Crypt (1989 - 1996) series, with his wife, Mary Ellen Trainor, playing the murderous wife. Larry Drake (he really should have been a massive horror icon, in my opinion) plays the killer Santa in what's arguably one of the best looking make-up jobs for a twisted take on a beloved character. As fine as it is, I still prefer the 1972 version over it. It's far too ingrained within me after all these years: the breezy twelve minutes run time; the garishly seventies decor; the bright red nail polish that's supposed to be blood; and Joan Collins's stellar performance make it the definitive adaptation for me. A classic Yuletide tale.

Merry Christmas!

Sunday, December 25, 2022

Black Christmas

Cilla Black's Christmas Eve (All Night Long performance)
Noel. D. Greene, 1983
 

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even our Graham. When Cilla Black's Christmas Eve was broadcast to British homes in the early eighties, it brought similar shock-horror to the unsuspecting public like Threads (1984), thanks to its awful rendition of Lionel Richie's All Night Long, featuring a bunch of kids rehearsing for one of George A. Romero's zombie pictures. Watching them body-poppin' and shuffling around what looks like a DFS showroom, while Cilla murders an already horrid song cements its legacy in TV Hell. Ardent Cilla Black nostaljacks would be hard pressed defending this eighties yuletide abomination to anyone with an ounce of common sense.

Thankfully, horror and Cilla Black managed to successfully align themselves more tastefully thanks to Edgar Wright's superb, time-travelling giallo, Last Night in Soho (2021). One of my favourite film highlights from last year and Wright's best film since Hot Fuzz (2007), in my humble opinion.

Last Night in Soho (Cilla Black's Your My World scene)
Edgar Wright, 2021

 
Dada Debser Bonus: 
The kid in a blue hoodie might seem like a familiar face. Surprise, surprise! It's none other than a young Jake Wood, better known as Max Branning from EastEnders (1985-∞) well before he appeared in that classic "French Polishers" Yellow Pages commercial.

Tuesday, December 28, 2021

You're On His List, Not What You Wished

Black Christmas (Bob Clark, 1974)

Other than Steptoe And Son Ride Again (1973), the amount of shite on TV during the festive season had me going, "Bah, humbug!", so I figured it was time for me to hit the shelves and watch something decent once again. Admittedly, this humble blogger has been avoiding most content on TV since it all went Orwellian during the eighties. What classic yuletide movie would suffice for someone with  a delicate palate such as myself? Obviously, it had to be the original Black Christmas (1974) The go-to movie for any insufferable slasher aficionado with the eternal urge to bore me to death that it predates John Carpenter's Halloween (1978) by a number of years, and thus it's the first modern slasher (they're dead wrong, though). Here's a Christmas story that must be told by Bob Clark, the very man who gave us surefire classics such as Murder By Decree (1979), Porky's (1981) and Karate Dog (2006).


Figured I would list all the things I love about this superb, holiday-themed slasher from the land that gave us Leslie Nielsen, David Cronenberg and Maestro Fresh Wes.

Pi Kappa Sigma
Love how this grand looking sorority house is such an interior decorator's nightmare, unless of course you're Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen. To add to the seventies era of vomit coloured walls and carpenting, we have the complimentary house mother Mrs. Mac - an outrageous alcoholic with enough hidden booze in the crib to open a speakeasy during lockdown.

It's A Giallo; It's A Slasher 
Don't honestly care what box people put it in, but it certainly has elements of both genres. Stylistically speaking, you can definitely see similarities with the likes of Dario Argento's The Bird With The Crystal Plumage (1970). The scenes of the calls being traced were also reminscent of the archaic computer from The Cat O' Nine Tails (1971). The film effectively toys with shadows and depth of field, along with some fancy Mario Bava style colour palette choices. There's the whole killer's point of view we're given, which is another reason as to why the film is compared to Carpenter's seminal movie. In terms of substance, Clark delivers an obvious red herring (or is he?) in the form of Jess' unstable boyfriend, Peter the aspiring concert pianist with a penchent for smashing up musical instruments.

Billy, AKA The Moaner
Outside of a few hand shots and a crazed looking brown eye (pause!), we hardly see much of a proper reveal of our resident psycho. Proof that less is more. His insanely, terrifying obscene phone calls are like a nightmarish ventriloquist act that leave me wondering as to how his different voices and sound effects are layered over one another, without the aid of audio recording equipment?
 

Barb 
This sassy sorority sister was hot as hell with her hair up in a bun and a kinky choker that accentuated her slender neck. Barb clearly subscribes to the ubiquitous trope of birds wearing a bloke's shirt - giving off the morning after look that I love. A cigarette in one hand and a glass of scotch in the other completes the liberated lack of all innocence ensemble. It's all backed up with some memorable smart-mouthed sarcasm and a killer prank she plays on Sgt. Nash. Wouldn't surprise me if Margot Kidder landed the role of Superman's signifcant other based on her portrayal of Barb alone.

Sergent Nash 
Every worthwhile slasher has a secondary villain at odds with the concept of human survival; completely devoid of any common sense. They're usually the preppie mean bitch or the jock quarterback, who would have no issues with putting anyone, including those in their immediate social circle, in serious jeopardy to save their skin. Sgt. Nash is mostly planted behind the counter of a police precinct and his dumb arse can't process the severity of the situation for the girls of Pi Kappa Sigma. This is all kicking off while a child is missing and found dead during the film's time frame. Dumb as he is, Nash is blessed with one of the most memorable lines from any slasher film, "Jess, the caller is in the house. The calls are coming from the house!"  


The finale is perhaps the biggest grievance I have with the film. The fact that Jess, the sole survivor of this merry bloodbath is left alone (save for a lone police officer outside) by emergency services in the murder house where her friends died in is huge cause for disbelief. You would think that anyone suffering from the ordeal she went through would be whisked off to a hospital instead of spending the rest of the night at a serious crime scene. Further to that, is the fact that the sorority house was swarming with cops, and in all that time they didn't search the attic and find the two corpses and Billy hiding in there. The cops, including the gawd John Saxon failed Jess - #defundthepolice. Huge logical flaw right there. Still enjoy it, regardless.