I Am Sam

Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia (Sam Peckinpah, 1974)

File Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia (1974) as a film I thought I’d watched, but really hadn’t until now. Its opening sequence, portraying a pregnant woman subjected to torture by the henchmen of her Mexican overlord father, El Jefe (Emilio Fernández); who demands to know the identity of the man responsible for getting her up the duff. This scene immediately triggers the Mandela Effect of a Zapata Western that I had imagined seeing in the past. However, a deliberate misdirection follows: the film swiftly establishes a contemporary setting, with vehicles racing off and a jet taking off once it is revealed that the father of the unborn child is someone called Alfredo Garcia, for whom a $1,000,000 bounty has been offered by the furious overlord. Thus, the premise of the film is established.

Two American bounty hunters, Sappensly (Robert Webber) and Johnny Quill (Gig Young), enter a Mexican saloon in search of information regarding Alfredo Garcia’s location. They encounter Bennie (Warren Oates), a former U.S. Army officer currently employed as a piano performer in the bar. It turns out Bennie might be able to help them when he is offered $10,000 to find Garcia. Bennie gets his longtime, prostitute girlfriend, Elita (Isela Vega), involved. She once had an affair with the elusive, Latin Lothario. She also reveals to Bennie that he died in a car accident very recently. Thus, the couple go on a road trip to find Alfredo Garcia’s grave and obtain his head.

Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia may be regarded as Sam Peckinpah’s personal interpretation of The Odyssey. Following the establishment of the principal characters, the plot unfolds like a road film, in which Bennie and Elita traverse the Mexican countryside, towards Garcia’s village. Along the way, they encounter a series of vivid figures, including two predatory motorcyclists, one portrayed by Kris Kristofferson, who attempt to rape Elita before Bennie dispatches them both.

The film also serves as a narrative of Bennie’s personal evolution. Initially characterised by heavy drinking and recklessness, he begins to acknowledge his shortcomings. His intention to make amends manifests in a commitment to marry Elita. This journey of earnest reflection shifts dramatically upon locating Garcia’s grave; without revealing plot details, notwithstanding the film’s age, Bennie becomes driven by a desire for retribution and the pursuit of final restitution.

The fine line between toxic masculinity and the aesthetic appreciation of Sam Peckinpah’s hyper-masculine cinema presents an obvious paradox. On the one hand, his output, particularly his genre-focused films of the 1970s, exemplifies violent misogyny; on the other, few filmmakers have examined the very elements of male machismo with such comparable depth quite like him. Therefore, films such as The Wild Bunch (1969), Straw Dogs (1971), and Cross of Iron (1977) transcend beyond just being portrayals of chauvinistic violence and intoxication, as proclaimed by easily offended cinephiles.

Ironically, the character of Bennie appears to function as a self-insertion of his co-creator/director. Peckinpah’s depiction of a man grappling with internal conflicts and seeking respite through alcohol mirrored his very own demons.

Warren Oates’s weathered face epitomises the gritty aesthetic of 1970s cinema. His rugged, hellraiser lifestyle proved advantageous in portraying the thoroughly dishevelled Bennie. He is a character who has hit rock bottom. The depiction of Bennie evokes an immediate sensory impression of sweat and alcohol, mirroring the visual olfactory resonance of Gary Bond’s John Grant in Wake in Fright (1971). Above all, the two characters are inextricably linked with deep psychological issues. Which more or less makes Bennie the perfect avatar of Peckinpah in what is undoubtedly his most personal film. However, it’s highly doubtful Peckinpah ever drove around with a rotting severed head in his car and had conversations with it.

Isela Vega is impeccably cast as Elita, a multifaceted character who understands Bennie more profoundly than he understands himself. Typical of a Peckinpah production, her role endures the director’s characteristic brutality. Vega’s ability to project authentic strength in a character who is largely unclothed throughout the film, renders her performance particularly remarkable. Her rapport with Warren Oates elevates the production beyond the conventions of a standard road movie. This quality prompted Peckinpah to select her over his initial choice, Aurora Clavel, who featured in his classic Western The Wild Bunch.

Although this neo-Western initially started somewhat sluggish, it improved drastically once Bennie and Elita embarked on their journey to locate Alfredo Garcia’s grave. Research into the production revealed that Sam Peckinpah continually revised scenes during filming; he even changed the ending following a discussion with his on-set biographer. Such abrupt modifications can affect a film’s coherence; however, having read about the original conclusion, Peckinpah definitely made a wise change. The finale left a sobering impression on me long after the credits.

In retrospect, I kind of regret not having seen this film until now. However, I do feel fortunate to have experienced a genuine, gritty 1970s thriller of this calibre for the first time. Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia exemplifies the type of cinema I wish were still produced today; uncompromised by millennial writing or the constraints of political correctness. Sadly, it’s doubtful the film industry would even accept a film maker like Sam Peckinpah in its environment today.

Hell Bent for Leather

Her Private Hell (Nicolas Winding Refn, 2026)

Sometimes, a film comes along that really shakes up what I think makes it good or bad. Nicolas Winding Refn’s Her Private Hell (2026), his first new effort in ten years, is a perfect example of this. It really stirs up the kind of mental tug-of-war in my head that makes me feel like Landru, the supercomputer, crashing out after being probed (⏸︎) by Captain Kirk. Therefore, it is not an easy task to summarise Refn’s incredibly challenging and polarising film when it defies the very conventions of a linear plot narrative, and prioritises a highly stylised visual aesthetic instead. One would call it superficial; and they would be right.

Set in a cyberpunk city where only the tops of the tallest skyscrapers and a colossal statue of a man rise above the clouds and the engulfing, mysterious mist below, it is here that Elle (Sophie Thatcher) is introduced. A beautiful celebrity actress with a perpetually cynical outlook on life returning to her luxurious penthouse in the neon-lit and generically named Tower Hotel. Elle meets her wide-eyed co-star and potential plaything Hunter (Kristine Frosethe) in the lobby. She’s destitute; she’s lost both her belongings and room. Elle amusingly says “Aren’t you the poor little match girl?” Hunter is confused by the question, prompting Elle to follow-up with Hans Christian Andersen’s name for reference. A waste of time for the young co-star, as she answers with “I don’t really listen to European music” before the pair ascend to the penthouse in the sky.

While Hunter is impressed by Elle’s luxurious abode, attire and jewellery, Dominique (Havana Rose Liu) makes her presence known. An uneasy tension exists between Dominique and Elle. It’s later revealed that they were once lovers. However, in a typical soap operatic twist, Dominique ended up marrying Elle's estranged father, film maker Johnny Thunders (Dougray Scott). Thus, the melodramatic elements of the film are firmly established. Elle is emotionally conflicted between her lingering affection for Dominique, and the paternal bond she craves from Johnny. The latter character is surrounded by the aforementioned trio and joined by the rest of his all femme cast from his latest movie, the retro-sci-fi film Candy Floss Girls. He shares the urban legend of the Leatherman with them:

“The Leatherman is a father searching for his daughter lost in the Underworld. A father cursed to search for lifetimes. Who eventually forgets who he is looking for. But when the mist returns, he remembers. He remembers her. He comes with the mist. Searching. His face; an infinite abyss. His strength; insurmountable. He wears leather gloves covered in razor sharp diamonds. Searching for her and any girl who sees him. For when you see him, he sees his daughter, and he will try and destroy you and anyone around you to get to her. And the only way to kill him is to cut off his hands. That’s why they say, ‘take care of your daughters, or he will.’” — Johnny Thunders



Her Private Hell does contain various plot threads, along with character motivations in extensive detail. However, Refn’s tendency to direct each scene in an excessively alien manner, can be very off-putting, and dare I say, bring about a whiff of pretentious art-house about it. But beneath the gloss, Her Private Hell is very much a horror film. The film’s pulsating neon lights and lavish sets, bear the look of a fashion shoot rather than the dark and desaturated look in more typical horror fare. Which ought to have put me off, but its obvious homages and references to genre cinema, which range from the films of Brian De Palma, Mario Bava and Seijun Suzuki, kept me invested enough to want to unravel all its layers and symbolism. Hence, accepting the bait to Refn's trolling. The extent of which, prompted me to analyse it forensically for answers. Along with letting the film marinate over the course of a couple of days, I came away with a more positive assessment of the film than most, despite some lingering issues. 

Her Private Hell’s more action-packed second plot is introduced shortly after Elle and Hunter witness the murder of a neighbour by The Leatheman. This is set in the past and involves Private K (Charles Melton), an American G.I. searching for his missing daughter. He encounters violent yakuza gangs during his quest. During his latest fight with the yakuza, he meets two eccentric dressmakers who also appeared in the first act of the film. They seem to be supernatural sages, who offer Private K. vital information on his daughter, as well as The Leatherman. The G.I.becomes imprisoned on an alien world. A neon landscape adorned with giant crystals. It looks exactly like the film set of Candy Floss Girls. It also happens to be the realm of The Leatherman.

Various themes and motifs from Refn’s previous work are present here. Perhaps the most obvious being a latent brutality that awakens with his characters. It manifests here with Elle chasing Dominique around the penthouse with the hatchet gifted to her from her father. With the exception of Private K, there’s also the distinct coldness and plasticity to the characters. They’re virtually mannequins in clothes.

There’s an overwhelming sense of love for genre cinema in Her Private Hell. From the obvious title borrowing of Norman J. Warren’s 1968 sexploitation film, to a glamorous, leather-clad giallo inspired antagonist. Scenes set inside a nightclub are very reminiscent of the opening credits sequence from Blood and Black Lace; which I absolutely loved. There’s plenty of that here to spot, while trying to comprehend what exactly is going on in the film. In many ways, Her Private Hell has a lot in common with the abstract films of French husband and wife film makers Hélène Cattet and Bruno Forzani, who borrow heavily from giallo and eurotrash cinema and convert them into more art house films. Much of the dialogue also comes as very Lynchian. An over used phrase by cinephiles, but an appropriate one for this film. The strange dressmakers could have easily been imagined from David Lynch’s mind. Of course, the biggest example of Refn’s affinity for genre cinema is having the legendary composer Pino Donaggio coming out of retirement to score his film and delivering an absolute banger of a soundtrack. It impeccably compliments Magnus Nordenhof Jønck’s beautifully stunning cinematography on the film.

In various interviews, Refn has revealed that he initially conceived two distinct stories which he subsequently unified by engineering a third narrative. He also admitted to frequently altering the script during filming; sometimes leaving his cast unaware until the final moment. This explains why the film’s plot often comes across as incomprehensible. It's doubtful that anyone other than Refn is even able to fully explain the film. Always a provocative film maker, his work has often been characterised by a mischievous and subversive approach; much to the detriment of viewers. His subsequent films, after his more accessible and widely popular Drive (2011), have been progressively more abstract. Both of his streaming exclusive television mini-series were even more niche. However, Her Private Hell appears to have pushed the boundaries even further and broken the patience of nearly everyone. It’s undoubtedly his most perplexing film yet.

Freaky Nikki

Obsession (Curry Barker, 2025/2026)

The Hollywood film industry is experiencing a decline in relevance, a trend that has become more pronounced this summer. Film production has become a large-scale corporate endeavour where hundreds of millions of dollars are invested in formulaic and rehashed blockbusters rather than creative properties with a more modest budget. Expectations for grossly expensive tentpole films  are often deemed as commercial failures whenever they fail to surpass the billion-dollar box office threshold. This has become an unrealistic expectation for an entertainment industry struggling to maintain the interests of the public. Hence, Blumhouse Productions, a film company with a history in low-budget horror, will always survive Hollywood’s downhill decline, like a cockroach after the nuclear holocaust. All it takes is one of its films to make it big to keep funding a multitude of other potential winners. Its latest co-production, is a monumental success story. At the time of writing, it has earned over 400 times its budget at the box office, and is one of the most profitable films ever made.

Curry Barker’s Obsession (2025/2026) is a variation of W.W. Jacobs’s 1902 horror tale The Monkey’s Paw. It applies the concept to a twisted love story. Barker’s slick writing and direction, along with strong performances from its unknown cast (notably, Inde Navarrette in her breakout role) make Obsession one of the year’s most significant film releases. Notably Barker was a 26-year-old YouTube comedy film maker and Navarette a younger Twitch streamer when they made the film. This demonstrates non-traditional paths to success in the film industry for Gen Z.

Baron ‘Bear’ Bailey (Michael Johnson), a shy and amiable individual, has romantic feelings for his friend and colleague Nikki Freeman (Navarrette). However, he is too timid to express his true feelings for her, which causes considerable frustration for their two fellow friends Ian (Cooper Tomlinson) and Sarah (Megan Lawless), who also work at the music store with them. The film emphasises the extent of Bear’s shyness with a painful rehearsal of his feelings at the very start of the film. Adding to the situation is the accidental death of Bear’s cat Sandy, on the very day he planned to confess his true love for Nikki.

At a new age crystal shop, Bear purchases a One Wish Willow toy as a last-minute substitute for the tiger’s eye pendant Nikki had recently lost. After the group departs from a pub quiz, Bear takes Nikki home. His nervousness in revealing his love for her results in an awkward sequence during which he even calls her “Freaky Nikki”, a nickname she despises. Nikki confronts Bear with the opportunity he wanted and asks whether he fancies her. Like a coward, he tells her that he sees her only as a good friend. With the opportunity lost and Nikki in her home, Bear holds the One Wish Willow and frustratingly wishes for Nikki Freeman to love him "more than anyone in the fucking world". Within an instant, Nikki returns to Bear’s car and behaves strangely; she even requests to spend the night at his home.

Bear’s wish has tragic consequences for all four featured characters. The most evident is Nikki’s total character transformation. The moments where Nikki eerily converses in the dark, along with her physical movements are intensely creepy. Navarrette’s performance is outstanding and should make her a star. The talented young actress conveys a range of emotions that effectively emphasises Nikki’s loss of autonomy; as if she is possessed. This may be the case as the real Nikki briefly resurfaces while her possessor is sleeping.

Nikki: Kill me, please!

Bear: What?

 
Nikki: She's sleeping. It's me.

Bear: You are you, Nikki.

 
Nikki: Ssh! Please, don't wake her up. Just... kill me!

 
Bear: What would be so bad? What's so bad about being with me?

 
Nikki: I've never been with you, Bear... Just kill me, please! Please, please, please, please!

This scene reveals that beneath his affable exterior, Bear is the film’s real antagonist. His primary concern is being in a relationship with Nikki; regardless of her own personal welfare, or the abnormal affect of her  actions and behaviour brought about her complete devotion to him. Therefore, the film demonstrates that his feelings for her are based on an idealistic vision of Nikki rather than actual Nikki. This explains why the cowardly abuser is willing to continue the façade of a loving relationship with Nikki while she serves Sandy the cat in Bear’s packed lunch; duct tapes his front door to keep him home with her; and mutilates herself during a game of Jenga. Bear’s cowardice is a constant throughout the course of the film.

Despite the familiar premise, Barker has crafted a film blessed that's an addictive viewing experience with morally ambiguous characters. They are more complex than the typical protagonists found in mainstream horror films. Bear may be a cowardly scumbag, but his initial plight makes him appear sympathetic. Similarly, Nikki is portrayed as a seemingly innocent individual. However, she’s later revealed to have been manipulative to Bear, prior to his wish. That doesn't excuse the hell of what she's put through, however. These character layers makes them far more three dimensional, in my opinion.

Obsession has resonated with a broad audience of filmgoers; both young and old. This is likely due to its ability to transform a narrative about love and obsession into a terrifying horror story. A concept that many might relate to. Consequently, Obsession is comparable to an old fable whose moral message is still relevant centuries on. A remarkable achievement from such a young cast and crew.

Loved it to death.

Reflection of Lydia Deetz

Mirror Mirror (Marina Sargenti, 1990)

Those connoisseurs of trash cinema over at Bleeding Skull compiled a list of their favourite indie horror films directed by women recently. The inclusion of Marina Sargenti's Mirror Mirror (1990) piqued my interest the most. Teen angst films, particularly those of the horror genre, serve as an allegory for the wider world. Consequently, celebrated horror films such as Carrie, Halloween and Scream continue to resonate today. Mirror Mirror is another teen angst horror which caught me unaware and impressed me.

The film opens with a sepia-filtered house in 1950s Iowa. In one room, Elizabeth Weatherfield is brutally murdered by her sister, Mary, in front of a large mirror. The narrative then shifts to the present day where Megan Good (Rainbow Harvest) and her widowed mother, Susan (Karen Black), move into the house of horror. Unbeknownst to Megan, the ornate furniture in her new bedroom is a demonic mirror with supernatural powers.

Let's discuss the elephant in the room: Rainbow Harvest (with a name like that, her parents must have been hippies) is the mirror image (pun intended) of Winona Ryder. The resemblance is beyond uncanny. Obviously, the director of the film, Marina Sargenti, realised this having her star dressed like Winona's most iconic goth character, Lydia Deetz from Beetlejuice (1988). Speaking of the Tim Burton classic, in a scene where Megan, Susan, and her new fella Mr. Veze (a pony-tailed William Sanderson), are dining on fried chicken, you're almost expecting them to burst into a possessed song and dance of Harry Belafonte's Day-O. Mr. Veze correlating visions of maggots on his chicken drumstick to a Vietnam flash back, is still entertaining, regardless.

The newcomer being a blight to the ignorant locals is a familiar cinematic trope. Therefore, it's unsurprising that the reserved goth is subjected to ridicule at her new high school. Her appearance attracts the mockery of the school’s bully queen Charleen Kane (Charlie Spradling) and her big haired, shoulder padded clique. One of the teachers, Mr Anderson (Stephen Tobolowsky), also exhibits unjustified hostility towards the new student. 

Fortunately, Nikki Chandler (Kristin Datillo), a likeable student who is running for class president against Charleen, befriends the outcast. Much to the dismay of Nikki's boyfriend, Ron (Ricky Paull Goldin), who finds Megan's behaviour becoming increasingly disturbing, the pair become inseparable.

The high school scenes draw inspiration from another film starring Winona Ryder - Heathers (1989). Replace Christian Slater's teen psychopath J.D. with a free-standing, demonic mirror and that's essentially Mirror Mirror in a nutshell; which explains my appreciation for this film.

The mirror's demonic powers grow more nerfarious throughout the course of the film. At first, it's the family pooch being found bloody and dead in the house, by Susan. Bizarrely, she places the dead pooch on the kitchen counter. Even Megan questions her mother's action. This is immediately followed by the apparition of Megan's dead father in her bedroom. As they hug in the darkness, she screams at her father's horribly, disfigured face.

A notable scene is set in the school cafeteria. From across the tables Charleen and her companions laugh at the new student, with the exception of her boyfriend Jeff (Tom Bresnahan), who is exasperated by her pettiness. Evidently, the demonic mirror is also annoyed. Blood drips down the glass object simultaneously with Charleen’s epic nosebleed.

Yvonne De Carlo plays Emelin, an employee of the leasing agent letting out the Weatherfield house. She discovers a book revealing the significance of the mirror and its dark history. The character is the film’s equivalent of Dr. Loomis. 

The kills are unexpectedly vicious, in what initially comes across as a fairly derivative and safe teen horror. The expected demise of Charleen is particularly nasty. The bully is scolded to death from the pipes above her in the school showers. Her death is intercut with her classmates playing in the swimming pool. The aftermath has Megan congratulating Nikki that she is the new class president since her rival has died. Tact isn't exactly Megan's strong point.

Ron is murdered in the bath by an evil mimic of his second love, Nikki. Not before serving up an epic sandwich. The irony of him saying "Oh, ladies and gentlemen! May I say, at this time, I may die a very happy man?" when sampling his culinary creation is not lost. The tragedy of it all being the poor lad never got to finish his snack.

Susan succumbs to the dreaded hand stuck in the garbage disposal. It may be a well worn cliché, but it's still a tense scene as the gruesome situation unfolds. Why on earth anyone would even consider installing such a dangerous contraption in their home?. It does make for great horror inside a kitchen, however.

Apart from the aforementioned films starring Winona Ryder, Mirror Mirror also bears some similarity to Christine (1983) in terms of its protagonist. Megan’s obsession with the mirror is strikingly reminiscent of Arnie Cunningham falling under the spell of his blood-red Plymouth Fury. While possession from a demonic force is not exclusive to both films, Mirror Mirror evokes John Carpenter’s effort with how it unravels over the course of the film. Elements of Hellraiser (1987) are also evident with its finale set inside the Weatherfield house. The score changing to a more orchestral sounds are evocative of Christopher Young's soundtrack for the film.

Based on a screenplay by Annette and Gina Gascone, the creators of the Deadtime Stories children books, Mirror Mirror is anything but a kid-friendly horror film; despite its early impression of a Young Adult story. It's considered something of a spiritual predecessor to Fisher Price horror, The Craft (1996), a beloved favourite for goth posers, ageing Tumblrinas, and Letterboxd Wiccans. However, Mirror Mirror operates without a safety net, making it a far edgier and mean-spirited offering than its sterile, coven-themed successor. The fact that it has the look and feel of a STV film, also caught me off guard. I assumed this would be some early '90s slop, fortunately that wasn't the case.

Amazingly, Mirror Mirror spawned three sequels. Which makes me even more disappointed with myself; unaware of another film franchise like the Vice Academy hexalogy, until quite recently.

You can watch this largely forgotten horror for free on YouTube.

Original Gangster

Little Caesar (Mervyn LeRoy, 1931)

Other than some notable exceptions, pre-Code films are relatively unfamiliar territory for me. This is surprising given that films from nearly a century ago containing sex, violence and various other morally corrupt virtues are of great curiosity to me. Mervyn LeRoy’s Prohibition era crime drama Little Caesar (1931) is a prime example of this; a film which remained unseen by me until recently. Anyone with a vested interest in cinema would be aware of the film by its title alone, along with it being Edward G. Robinson's breakout performance in it. What's more, Little Caesar would serve as the quintessential template for the gangster movie; creating an entire subgenre in cinema.

Adapted from William R. Burnett’s 1929 novel, Little Caesar centres on an out-of-town hoodlum, Caesar Enrico “Rico” Bandello (Edward G. Robinson), who seeks to establish himself within Chicago’s criminal underworld. His reluctant partner Joe Massara (Douglas Fairbanks Jr.) is more interested in women and dancing, but nonetheless joins an uncouth Sam Vettori’s (Stanley Fields) gang with Rico. The pair become increasingly distant over time; Rico’s imposing presence and influence within Vettori’s gang contrast with Massara going straight as a dancer at The Bronze Peacock; a club owned by rival gang boss "Little" Archie Lorch (Maurice Black). Furthermore, Joe develops a relationship with his dance partner Olga Stassoff (Glenda Farrell), who wants him to cut ties with the mob, further distancing him from Rico.

Despite the order from the Don, known as "Big Boy" (Sidney Blackmer), for everyone to remain discreet and avoid attracting the attention of the new Crime Commissioner Alvin McClure (Landers Stevens), Rico and his associates commit a robbery at the Bronze Peacock during the New Year celebrations. This results in Rico murdering the commissioner as he leaves the nightclub. Instead of being punished for this breach of protocol, Rico is rewarded for it; including the respect and takeover of Vettori’s gang. Incidentally, the capo acts oddly relieved with his demotion to soldier status once the crew choose Rico over him.

The murder of McClure has Police Sergeant Flaherty (Ralph Ince) investigating the gang and waiting for a potential slip-up. Getaway driver Tony Passa (William Collier Jr.), already a nervous wreck from the robbery, is a weak link. A chance meeting with Otero (George E. Stone), Rico’s new right-hand man, reveals that Tony wants no more to do with the gang; not even in wanting his share of the stolen loot. Tony plans to confess to the local priest. Thus, he is brutally gunned down in a drive-by on the church steps.

Tony Passa’s grand funeral procession through the streets of Chicago is a scene which could have been lifted from Francis Ford Coppola’s The Godfather films. Rico and his associates ride in the motorcade without any sign of grief. Ironically, the wake is nothing more but a banquet held in honour of the gang's ruthless leader. Amidst the boozy celebrations, the teetotal Rico, ironically foreshadows his own demise:

"And I wish you birds wouldn't get drunk and raise Cain, because that's the way a lot of birds get bumped off." 

Rico’s public exposure and celebrity status provoke contempt from Little Archie Lorch. The rival gang boss plots a hit on the underworld V.I.P. This scene draws a comparison to Coppola’s Vito Corleone being gunned down on the streets. Both characters are highly cautious of anything that might be perceived as suspicious. Rico mocks his would-be assassin after being wounded, remarking, “Fine shot you are!” Joe Massara’s warning about Little Archie’s hit prompts Rico to reminisce about his former partner and wanting to bring him back to the fold. First, however, he has to make an important visit to his Little Archie's club.

In a scene that Brian De Palma obviously took major inspiration from in his film Scarface (1983), Rico runs his rival out of town. With the acquisition of Little Archie's properties and business enterprises, Rico's empire grows. Eventually, the titular rogue takes over "Diamond" Pete Montana's (Ralph Ince) second-in-command position for Big Boy.

Rico’s meteoric rise is entertaining because it further inflates his egomania. The failed assassination attempt only fuels his thirst for power even further; anyone in his way will be met with his "Shoot first, argue afterwards." method.

The bling he wears is not merely for show but serves as trophies taken from those who were once above him and in his way. The derby hat, dapper suits and spats shoes also materialistically exemplify his increasing social status. When Rico is made the new boss of Northside Chicago, the expository on-screen text reads:

"Rico continued to take care of himself, his hair and his gun — with excellent results."

Homoerotic subtext is evident in the film. This is most apparent in Rico’s complete lack of interest in women and his scorn for Joe’s relationship with Olga. When Joe rejects the offer to help run Rico's empire and wanting out of the game, it culminates in a threatening ultimatum from the crime boss:

Rico: "You didn't quit. Nobody ever quit me. You're still in my gang, you got that? I don't care how many fancy skirts you've got hanging onto you, that Jane of yours can go hang. It's her that's made a softie out of you."

Joe: "You lay off Olga, Rico!"

Rico: "I ain't laying off her; I'm after her. One of us is gonna lose, and it ain't gonna be me. There's ways of stopping that dame."

This eventually leads to Rico drawing a gun on Joe. As he walks menacingly closer to his old partner, the camera closes in on Rico's face. His face is blurry and unfocused. Symbolic with the doubt in Rico's mind. For the first time ever, Caesar fails to pull the trigger. Thus, sealing his own doom.

For clarity, Olga is the one who goes squealing about McClure's murder to Sergeant Flaherty, causing Rico's gang to be apprehended. Therefore, Rico was essentially correct in disliking her; subtext or not. Rico instantly regrets not murdering Joe once the law give chase, "This is what I get for liking a guy too much."

More overt homoerotic subtext is present between Rico and his sycophantic right-hand man Otero. The mirror scene, where Otero assists Rico in dressing for his meeting with Big Boy, suggests a sexual act. Otero stood below Rico's groin, says much. 

After months of evading capture and without finances, Rico finds himself returning to the gutter from whence he came. He is no longer a teetotaller and is now a destitute drunk residing in a flophouse. From a person reading a newspaper aloud, he learns of Sam Vittori’s execution and a now promoted Lieutenant Flaherty’s denunciation of Rico of being a coward. This is an obvious ploy to lure the former crime boss out of hiding. It works. Rico’s conceited ego takes the bait. He telephones the lawman and is even more outraged by Flaherty’s verbal sparring. This provides sufficient time to trace the call and locate Rico.

Flaherty spots Rico next to a billboard, one which is poetically advertising Joe and Olga's dancing act. A defiant Rico won't give up and hides behind the sign. Armed with a tommy gun, Flaherty sprays the billboard with bullets, fatally wounding the criminal. Ever the narcissist, Rico's famous last words are spoken in third person (your humble host would never ever, dear reader) as if lifted from a newspaper headline, "Mother of mercy! Is this the end of Rico?"

Despite its somewhat rough edges, Little Caesar remains a compelling film largely due to Edward G. Robinson’s energetic performance. The actor’s distinctive, rapid delivery is particularly memorable. His confident swagger and Napoleon complex make Rico a highly alluring character. This is why Edward G. Robinson’s iconic portrayal of the character has left an indelible mark on popular culture.

Although Little Caesar may not have been the first gangster film, it established the narrative and template that subsequent films of its kind would follow. Consequently, some of its shortcomings are easily overlooked given its role in defining an entire subgenre in cinema. 

Recommended.

Free to watch on YouTube. 

Dada Debaser Note: 

Watched Little Caesar on New Year's Day, unaware it had just become a public domain film that same day.

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!