Apache Revolver #1

 Hello to what may be the last Kino Ventura blog post for 2024! It's been an exciting year for me in regards to what I do here - I've been able to contribute to a couple of zines, I was able to join the Minnesota Film Critics' Association, and I was even able to host a live screening of one of my favorite films. I wasn't sure that this additional project would be ready to launch before the month was out but it appears that the stars have aligned so I'm happy to announce the release of my new crime film zine: Apache Revolver!

This is a collection of film writing and reviews, a couple of lists, and some artwork by yours truly covering my favorite genre of film. The selections are what you might already expect from me: older, relatively underseen, largely hardboiled genre pictures from all over the world. It's 26 digest pages of writing and artwork plus the color cover and I'm selling it online for 6 bucks plus tax and shipping. If you are a fan of 70s genre pictures, yakuza films, poliziotteschi, French gangster pictures, or my writing in general, I think you'll find something to appreciate here. Even if that's not your bag, I'd love if you could help spread the word to the crime film fanatic in your life. Hopefully this goes well and there will be future issues and collaborations with other genre folks.

If you do pick it up, I'd love to hear what you think. Don't hesitate to send me an email or poke me on bluesky or instagram

It's been a hard year for a lot of people and next year doesn't look like it will be letting up on any of us. I hope you're able to stay safe, stay sane, and stay healthy and I hope you can still find time to appreciate things like wild old genre pictures. Thanks as always for checking out my stuff!

The Working Class Goes to Hell - Thief (1981)

Criterion announced Thief on 4K and Robert Prosky would have turned 94 today so I thought I would revisit and republish this older review of mine. I removed the final paragraph about availability but otherwise left this unchanged.

Two things are immediately striking upon first viewing Michael Mann’s Thief (1981)—the immaculately constructed world and the singular style in which it is presented. Everything physical in Thief feels real, seems plausible. The tools that Frank (James Caan) and his crew use, the methods they employ, and the locations they maneuver through have a tremendous authenticity to them. 

One of the keys to that authenticity is that Mann employed “technical consultants” on Thief (something he would continue to do throughout his career) that consisted of actual thieves and police. Not only did these consultants inform the methodology of the fictional robbers, but in some cases lent them the actual tools of the trade. The magnetic drill Frank hefts to penetrate a safe door in the opening sequence was a real 200 lb drill and he really drilled through that safe door.

In contrast to this realism, the stylistic elements of Thief are fantastic and alien. The city is all blacks and greens, eternally raining. Streetlights and neon line the skies and are reflected in surfaces of cars and wet asphalt. The pulsing electronic score by Tangerine Dream echoes the industrial heartbeat of the Chicago underworld (parts of the score are actually keyed to match the machine whir of the tools used for the heists). With the level of craft on display, it’s remarkable that this was a first feature both for Mann and his cinematographer Dave Thorin.

However, there’s more than mere style on display here. Thief is very much a character driven narrative and has the performances necessary to draw the viewer in. Caan’s Frank is successful. He maintains his independence, steals only cash or unset jewels, and puts his money into small businesses he can control: a car lot and a bar. He’s unattached and answers to no one. Jessie - beautifully portrayed by Tuesday Weld—is a woman with a dark past. While she seems far too glamorous to be a diner cashier, her humdrum life is one she built herself and something she can rely upon.

In one of Thief’s best scenes, the two lay their cards out on the table and decide to start a life together. This kind of confessional conversation and abrupt decision making would normally strain credulity but Caan and Weld are totally convincing as two people looking for something better and running out of time to find it.  As Frank says, “let's cut the mini-moves and the bullshit, and get on with this big romance.” 

To jump-start this new life chapter, Frank compromises his independence to work for local crime boss, Lou. Robert Prosky brings the faustian Lou vividly to life. He’s both affably paternal and later chillingly brutal, like some kind of folksy satan. Lou offers Frank and Jessie everything they’re dreaming of—money, a home, even a child—if only Frank does things Lou’s way. Of course, Frank’s not the kind of guy who can do things anyone else’s way for long. No longer unattached, Frank has to decide to submit to Lou’s yoke or risk losing everything.

Thief is a tremendously assured debut feature that’s clearly the product of meticulous preparation. Mann set the story in his hometown of Chicago and built on his experience with convicts from his television movie: The Jericho Mile. Thief contains many of the hallmarks that would define Mann’s style as a film-maker throughout his career - the way he focuses on professional details, his use of real people and locations, and his attention to the music in his films. 

Mann also has a terrific eye for supporting cast and Thief features Willie Nelson as Frank’s prison buddy, as well as solid film debuts for Jim Belushi and Dennis Farina. As sparse as the actual plot beats may be, Thief only grows in my estimation each time I revisit it. Some may find it too stylized, maybe even pretentious, but I find myself completely won over by this expertly crafted slice of genre film-making. 

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Best New-to-Me: November 2024 (The Oops! All Screenings Edition)

 Another whirlwind of a month as we all hurtle towards the end of 2024. Despite my typically sluggish rate of output on the blog, I've been watching movies and writing reviews like a man possessed. Hopefully you've had a chance to check out my Top 10 2024 Hardboiled Crime Movie List and then I am putting the absolute finishing touches on a project that I'm desperately hoping I can announce before the end of the year. With all that reviewing energy already spoken for, I thought I would focus on theatrical screenings this month as there have been quite a few of those as well. I managed to fit in a bit of everything in November - Cinema of the Macabre, press previews, MSP Film Club, Cult Film Collective, and even a road trip (rail trip, actually) to Chicago that included a movie. It's easy to feel powerless in the face of everything that's going on in the world so it's a real sanctuary to have films and creative projects to focus on. Let's get into it.

Tenebre (1982) - Dario Argento's climax of stylized violence and last great statement on the giallo film he was so integral in pioneering. Argento would still make some good films post-Tenebre but nothing quite as affecting ever again. Much like Suspiria, one of the great joys of seeing Tenebre theatrically is that the (essentially) Goblin music is so loud in the mix that it's nearly deafening in a cinema sound system. Argento also provides some deliriously blood drenched imagery to pair with the pulsing soundscape. The result may be more nightmare logic than murder mystery but I never tire of it.

The Last Thing She Saw (2024) - This wild and gruesome short played before Tenebre and the co-directors were in attendance. This was a fun surprise and absolutely the right crowd for it. 

Gladiator II (2024) - The latest epic from Ridley Scott and sequel to the film that turned me off the Academy Awards for the rest of my life. Scott claims this is his finest work and I actually thought its strength was the realization that it was a big, dumb spectacle without taking itself too seriously. Paul Mescal (who I loved in Aftersun and All of Us Strangers) is grossly miscast as the grim faced lead, but otherwise Gladiator II seems to be having a lot of fun. Killer baboons, a rhino riding champion, friggin' sharks in the Colosseum? Denzel Washington is clearly having a blast as the ambitious Macrinus and the ancient Rome depicted in the film looks good for the most part (those baboons are rough). I think this should win best picture and then none of us need to care about the Oscars anymore. 

The Brutalist (2024) - Yes, the runtime is completely daunting but there's an immensity to The Brutalist that I think justifies the length. From a craft and scope perspective, it's an astonishing film. Colossal, chaotic, transcendent, discordant, and brilliantly composed. The sound design is impeccable and the VistaVision photography is an absolute stunner. I do think, ultimately, that it is ideologically muddled. Not in the way in which the world is filled with complicated people and ambiguities, but in the way that it touches on things without offering a perspective. I also think the ending sucks. It's brilliantly executed (to look like real archival materials) but commits the opposite sin of over-explaining the meaning of the architectural works featured in the film at you. It's still an amazing film and I'm so glad I saw it in the theater.

Anora (2024) - I'm not sure how to approach this one. Everyone loves it, but I do not. I found the first act largely uninteresting, thought the second picked up admirably, but not enough to really care about the finale. There are some good performances and nice photography, but I do not find Anora revelatory the same way other people seem to. I did see this at 11am and there were some issues with the presentation, so that could possibly have soured me on it. I'm going to have to give it another watch, but I found this my least favorite Sean Baker joint so far. 

Little Murders (1971) - My wife and I decided to take the train down from the Twin Cities to Chicago, in part because Samm Deighan was going to be at the Music Box to introduce and discuss Little Murders. Murders is one of the many films in the book Samm co-edited and contributed to, Revolution in 35mm: Political Violence and Resistance in Cinema from the Arthouse to the Grindhouse, 1960–1990. First of all, the book is great and you should definitely snag a copy - I read most of it on the train and my watchlist has grown tremendously as a direct result. I have long wanted an excuse to visit the Music Box and it didn't disappoint. It's a gorgeous theater and I especially love the little side lounge providing that much needed space to congregate before or after a movie. I have seen Little Murders before but never with an audience and I couldn't help but be reminded of my experience watching De Palma's Hi, Mom! Both films are made in the same era of NYC and have some politically connective tissue - I like them both but think Murders is the smarter film. Most importantly, both are at times wildly hilarious while being deeply sobering at others. The audience was erupting in raucous, cathartic laughter throughout Murders but you could practically hear a pin drop by the finale. 

Afterwards, I had a chance to meet Samm and Brian (Weekend Nachos drummer, bootleg shirt wizard, and fellow Eros + Massacre listener), chat a little and take some photos. Unfortunately, we couldn't hang out too late as we had a train to catch in the morning. Still, it's always great to connect with people after getting to know them online. 

…All the Marbles (1981) -  I have been DYING to see Marbles for ages and I can't imagine a better way to do it than on 16mm in the back room of the Eagles Lodge while eating pierogies and drinking beers. Robert Aldrich's final film before his untimely demise and both a thrilling and pessimistic look into women's professional wrestling and what it takes to hustle in this country. Aldrich shot the shit out of this film and the wrestling sequences look amazing. Apparently the training and fight choreography was managed by wrestling legend Mildred Burke and it's all very convincing. The cast is absolutely stacked with character actors from my favorite period of American filmmaking and though there's plenty of studio shot sequences - there's some fantastic location footage from Chicago, Reno, and some towns in Ohio. Marbles is essentially an underdog sports film but there is a prevalent dark undercurrent to it. The Hollywood Dolls have to navigate murky waters to achieve their dreams and the rust belt backdrop gives everything an air of industrial collapse. Marbles is a much more interesting film than it needs to be and I'm so glad to have finally caught it.

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Best of Harboiled Crime - 2024

For Noirvember this year I decided to do something a little different. Rather than burrow into classic and obscure noir films from the past, I wanted to watch, re-watch, and review some of 2024s crime film output. Film noir and neo-noir are slippery enough genres to get one's hands around and "hardboiled" crime might be trickier yet, but I think the following films contain sufficient explicit crime content to distinguish them from broader categories.

10. American Star - American Star is a character driven, atmospheric approach to the contemplative aging assassin canon. Gonzalo López-Gallego's reserved filmmaking places significant weight on Ian McShane's force of personality as well as beautifully desolate footage of Fuerteventrua, but I found myself willing to take the ride. McShane's Wilson is forced to wait for an anticipated target and spends his time exploring the island and interacting with both fellow travelers and the locals. Events take a turn when a fellow assassin from his past lands on the island to ensure the job is done correctly. The titular American Star refers to an actual ocean liner that wrecked off of Fuerteventura's coast and presents an object of fascination for Wilson. American Star is not a genre thrill ride but is enjoyable on its own terms if you understand what you're getting into. I found it thoughtful and lyrical and there are some wonderfully delicate scenes. The film ultimately cannot escape violence anymore than Wilson can so blood is definitely shed before the credits roll.

9. Twilight of the Warriors: Walled In - Arguably more martial arts throwdown than capital "C" crime film, Soi Cheang's Twilight of the Warriors: Walled In is still enough of a triad brotherhood drama to land it a spot on this list. Raymond Lam plays a mainland refugee with formidable fighting prowess who manages to find sanctuary and a surrogate family in the Kowloon Walled City. Living legend, Sammo Hung, plays an avaricious crime boss who wants to carve out his own territory in the City so he can profit on its eventual redevelopment. I sometimes struggle with 21st Century HK cinema - it's too glossy for my preferences and often leans into CGI in unfortunately ways. The Kowloon Walled City setting adds some much needed lived in texture in Twilight to contrast the larger than life action sequences. The city (naturally) needed to be recreated for the film and its labyrinthine, multistory immensity provides a interesting backdrop for the innovative, hard hitting fight sequences. Twilight does escape the gravity of reality for more of a comic/manga sensibility at times, but it's having so much fun doing so it's impossible not to get swept up in it.

8. Borderless Fog - Modern Indonesian action and horror seem to be having a moment, but Edwin's Borderless Fog largely dispenses with genre excesses to deliver a straightlaced, steely police procedural. Putri Marino plays a Jakarta detective who is travels to investigate a series of macabre killings along the Indonesian-Malaysian border. There is a unique socio-political context operating in Borderless Fog and I don't pretend to understand all of the nuances. Significant tension surrounds the Dayak people in the film and their autonomy in the face of Indonesian authority as well as the oversight of jurisdiction between Indonesia and Malaysia. Even if I don't have the context to interpret all of this - I do love a border noir and I found these details added some interesting wrinkles to the proceedings. While there is nothing overtly supernatural in Borderless Fog - it is still very dark, mysterious, and even strange at times. I found myself hooked into it immediately and it also features multiple severed heads for anyone questioning its hardboiled bona fides.

7. LaRoy, Texas - Shane Atkinson makes his feature debut with a Texas noir trip down to Coen Bros. territory. LaRoy is a ranging detective story starring John Magaro as a depressed hardware store manager (Ray) who is mistaken for a traveling hitman (Dylan Baker) and slips into a knotty conspiracy of infidelity, blackmail, murder, and betrayal. Steve Zahn plays a wannabe detective sporting a bolo tie and an oversized cowboy hat who bullies Ray into investigating the mystery only to sink further into trouble. None of this is strikingly original territory but it's rendered exceedingly well. Buoyed by a terrific ensemble - Zahn is as good here as I've ever seen him - and amidst the absurdity there's a lonesome darkness at the heart of this tale. LaRoy offers a distinctly evocative noir look - bleak earth tone days give way to expressive red and blue nights - and I believe this is cinematogrpaher Ming Jue Hu's feature debut as well.

6. The Shadow Strays - The all-violence MVP of this list. Timo Tjahjanto's epic assassin vengeance tale blends some Besson-ian plot threads into a exhaustingly brutal series of fight scenes and action set-pieces. Aurora Ribero stars as 13, a young member of an elite squad of trained killers (they're basically ninjas) known as the Shadows. After fumbling during a mission to Japan, 13 is sent back home to lay low where she becomes nearly instantaneously embroiled in a criminal conspiracy involving the kid living next door. The Shadow Strays employs only the barest skeleton of a plot or character motivations but makes up for that with a non-stop supply of gory, pulpy gangster insanity. Ribero's 13 is convincingly capable and resolute but the real fun is in the rogues' gallery of antagonists: A giggling psychopathic cop, a shotgun wielding madam, an inhuman hulk of an assassin, and spoiled rich kid sporting a gimp mask and a white Tony Montana suit. There are plenty of vfx "enhanced" sequences in Strays but the bedrock of the film is made of bone crunching fighting and stunt work. Some people definitely got set on fire to make this movie happen. At nearly two and a half hours, burnout is an understandable reaction to the marathon of onscreen mayhem and there's a postscript that I'm not sure how I feel about. Still, the action goes to such extremes that I was shaking my head in disbelief until the very end.

5. The Last Stop in Yuma County - Francis Galluppi's remarkably assured feature debut certainly shows influence from filmmakers in a similar milieu but also features a wonderfully charismatic ensemble, dark humor that actually lands, and a genuine facility for building suspense until it boils over in a thrillingly brutal climax. The early phase of the film consists of travelers stranded in a nowheresville service station/diner with a pair of fugitive bank robbers due to the lack of gas. Not everyone is aware of the criminals' true identity and this uncertainty propels much of the drama until things inevitably detonate in a satisfyingly gnarly standoff. From there ill-considered plans turn apocalyptically awful resulting in a soberingly grim conclusion. Yuma County's cast is solid all the way through featuring Jim Cummings as a anxiety ridden salesman wondering how he found himself in such a mess and Richard Brake positively exuding menace as one of the bank robbers. Yuma County is the kind of smaller, smart, stylish genre exercise I find easy to root for and I hope Galluppi turns his talents towards more crime features down the line.

4. The Pig, the Snake and the Pigeon - Wong Ching-Po's The Pig, the Snake and the Pigeon starts as a plausible, if high octane, action/crime thriller - gangsters, cops, foot chases through narrow corridors, bone shattering close range fisticuffs - and then takes a breath before becoming a much weirder movie. The plot is very loosely based on Zhou Chu and the Three Scourges: Ethan Juan is a notorious gangster (Chen Kui-lin) with a terminal diagnosis hanging over his head who decides to take on the other two most wanted men in Taiwan before he turns himself in or dies in the effort. The first leg of his journey is a nighttime vigilante mission where he meets a young woman essentially enslaved by his first target. The second part eschews neon lights and city streets for blinding daylight and pastoral scenes involving a spiritual organization/cult. Further mysteries are revealed before Pigeon erupts in one of the bloodiest, most nihilistic climaxes I've seen all year. It's a moment that truly harkens back to the East Asian cinematic insanity of the late 20th Century. Great, magnetic performances - not only from Juan but from the gangsters as well. Pigeon is unrelentingly violent, some of it coursing with adrenaline and other moments are startlingly abrupt. The plot certainly isn't predictable and even if the denouement goes on a little long - it hits like a ton of bricks by the end.

3. Love Lies Bleeding - Rose Glass' neon and synth drenched neo-noir revenge saga set around a New Mexico bodybuilding gym looks and sounds tremendous. It's swimming in blood, drugs, food, sweat, muscles, and guns. Irrepressibly carnal at times but also pervasively gross - including touches of body horror. Katy O'Brien's athletic stature clearly fits the needs of the story and she delivers an excellent performance as well - especially during some of the quieter moments before things get increasingly heightened. Kristen Stewart continues to be a supremely compelling screen presence and her instincts and line deliveries are impeccable here. I'd also say Ed Harris is brilliantly weird and sinister every time he's on screen. I'm 98-99% totally infatuated with Love Lies Bleeding. I think the first hour of scenario and character building is unimpeachable and I'm still on board as Bleeding follows Jackie (O'Brien) down a steroid and violence fueled trajectory of instability becoming increasingly surreal. However, I struggle with the level of magical realism employed in the finale. The stakes are ratcheted up ferociously and I crave something less fanciful in the resolution. Still, everything leading up to that is masterful and I rate Love Lies Bleeding highly for the year.

2. Outlaw - Electric, visually chaotic, and bursting with streetwise authenticity, João Wainer's Outlaw may, in fact, be the most hardboiled film I've seen this year. Based on Raquel de Oliveira's 2015 memoir, Outlaw features Maria Bomani as Rebeca, a street kid in the Rocinha favela who grows up to be one of the most feared drug lords in Rio de Janeiro. The subject matter unyieldingly brutal - Rebeca is sold to a drug dealer and pedophile by her gambling addict grandmother after being abandoned by her mother. She narrowly avoids the sex trade but is no less indoctrinated into the world of gangs, drug trafficking, and violence. Wainer renders the ensuing tale of crime, money, love, power, and betrayal with an anarchic, maximalist approach to filmmaking. Outlaw careens through aspect ratios, color, black & white, high def, low res video, archival footage, and even back and forth through time like a hail of bullets through the favela. It's an explosive, disorienting approach but it suits the onscreen bedlam perfectly. Maria Bomani is an absolute revelation in the role of Rebeca - tough as nails, smart, sexy, and capable in the midst of a firefight as well as the thoughtful narrator of the film. Outlaw is reminiscent of 90s L.A. street gang stories as far as its driving narrative arc, but it's a much grimier style and the focus on a female protagonist still feels singular today.

1. The Order - Based on the real events involving the titular group of radical white supremacists, Justin Kruzel's The Order is a magnificently taut heist thriller/police procedural in the vein of Michael Mann or Peter Yates. Jude Law plays FBI agent Terry Husk who instead of finding a quiet post away from high profile cases starts pulling threads connected to an increasingly dangerous group of domestic terrorists. Nicholas Hoult plays the young leader of the burgeoning militia and manages to be chillingly threatening without becoming a caricature. The crime content of the film is outrageously good. Bombings, heists, and shootouts are executed with white knuckle tension set to the metronomic score from Jed Kurzel. This is a period piece and it does feel like a bit of a nod to crime films of the 70s and early 80s - The Order is played perfectly straight and shows a professional fascination with how both criminals and law enforcement operate. My initial reaction was that the white separatists were shown as too competent - but reading into the backstory, they were actually frighteningly organized and effective. Jude Law is admirably grizzled as Husk and the supporting cast (especially Tye Sheridan and Jurnee Smollett) lend sturdy performances as well. Overall just the kind of intelligent, impactful genre filmmaking I love to see.

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Horror Gives Back 2024 and Best New-to-Me: October 2024

 October and "spooky season" more generally is my absolute favorite time of the year and went about as hard this year as we have in recent memory. Halloween candy, pumpkin everything, horror-themed bars, fright markets, jack-o-lantern fests, and many, many horror movies. We had something going on more nights than not and as much as I loved it, it did feel like a bit of gauntlet towards the end. Perhaps fortunately, my body finally gave up and I had a full-blown cold for the actual day of Halloween. It forced me to rest a bit and gave me an opportunity to marathon my way into a full 31 horror/Halloween movies for the month. I've been doing that challenge many years and I've also been donating to Unsung Horrors' Horror Gives Back fundraiser for a few years now. It's a terrific community and a great cause (they raised over $4000 for Best Friends Animal Society this year!) so if you're looking for an excuse to binge horror movies next year, I fully endorse signing up. They offer terrific prompts and categories to keep everyone engaged but I can barely stick to my own watchlist so I just follow my whims and donate some money at the end. Nobody minds.

We also took a short venture out to Seattle early in the month. I had a great time and fell in love with exploring different neighborhoods as well as the unparalleled access to nature from the city - even without an automobile. Seattle is also home to an incredibly vibrant film culture (more about that below) and I was beyond stoked to visit Scarecrow Video while I was there. Scarecrow has an unreal collection and they do rent via mail for anyone outside of the area. They are currently fundraising to maintain their current space and secure living wages for their employees so I would highly encouraging throwing them a few bucks to preserve such an incredible resource.

I've got a metric ton of movies to talk about in addition to theatrical showings (not all spooky) so without further delay:

The Face Behind the Mask (1941) and The Beast with Five Fingers (1944) - I didn't actually watch these on the same day but this was inspired by a Peter Lorre double feature that the New Beverly Cinema screened in October. The horror bona fides of Face might be tenuous but I loved the story of Lorre turning from humble and earnest immigrant to reluctant if sometimes ruthless crime boss. Lorre's performance carries a lot of the film as some of the best action happens off screen, but he's up to the task. His character becomes disfigured (certainly Tim Burton has seen this film) and the makeup he uses to disguise it is genuinely unsettling. Beast is solidly within 40s chiller territory - again propelled by fantastic work from Lorre but also some surprisingly eerie disembodied hand effects. It takes its time to get rolling and I found the denouement eyeroll inducing - but this thing really cooks when it focuses on Lorre and a murderous hand. 

I, The Executioner (1968) - Stunningly shot and notably brutal for '68. Sometimes my choices lead me towards something that is more horror-adjacent than legitimately frightening. However, Executioner is about as black as a noir can get. I'm not terribly familiar with Tai Katō's films but found this rather fascinating on a formal/structural level. Executioner is pointing both at New Wave revolution in its form and classically expressionist modes in its visual language. There's something magical about that 60s B&W look with crisp photography and deep contrasts. I've read some grousing about the writing and while the politics of Executioner are admittedly pretty bonkers, I didn't take issue with how the story was presented. Surely, the humanization of the protagonist who is fully a serial killer and the depiction of the "inciting incident" are difficult to swallow. Still, I felt this is well within the lines of some of the more provocative Japanese literary and (by extension) cinematic traditions. In fairness, I struggle with those sometimes as well, 

The First Omen (2024) - Sure, you might think you can win me over with Possession references and Raffaella Carra needle drops...and well...you sort of can. Very little interests me less than modern reimaginings, prequels, or sequels to classic horror films so I skipped this one without much thought upon release. However, enough people told me that this was worth checking out that I finally relented. First Omen manages a great atmosphere, both aesthetically and sonically. It's not just by virtue of being a period piece of sorts, I get the sense that Stevenson had a real vision for the feel of the picture. My only complaint is that conspiracy thriller/horror can be a hard sell when nearly every plot beat is totally predictable from the beginning. No fault of the performances and you do have to work within the context of the "franchise" but I was starting to check out a bit at various times. In a normal context, I don't know if this would be considered a "best" but I watched several newer horrors this year that I absolutely hated so I thought this was worth mentioning.

What Have They Done to Your Daughters? (1974) - Just one of those astonishingly obvious blind spots I had in my personal filmography that I'm finally correcting. I can't recall if this was an availability thing or I just hadn't found the time yet. Either way, Daughters is not that much of a horror film but it's a grade A banger of sleazeball Eurocrime.  Massimo Dallamano leans into some similar territory as he does in the previous What Have You Done to Solange? and I only suppose it's fair to draw some parallels between the two. It's been a few years since my last viewing of Solange and I think I enjoyed Daughters about equally. The motorcycle helmeted killer featured on the cover does actually appear in several sequences which does lend a sense of proto-slasher aesthetics but Daughters is largely a mystery/crime procedural supported by a tremendous cast (Giovanna Ralli, Mario Adorf, etc.) and blisteringly cool Stelvio Cipriani music. The main theme was lifted for a great sequence in L'Innocent which was one of my favorite new movies last year.

The Strangler (1970) - This has been high on my priority list and I probably should have just gone and picked up the blu-ray from Altered Innocence sight unseen. Sometimes budgets and other priorities get in the way so I'm honestly just happy to have finally caught up to it. It's an absolute stunner of a film but it is singularly bizarre in tone. The nighttime palette of turquoise and amber blends with the utterly cryptic behaviors of the characters to create an atmosphere of total mystery and nearly oppressive loneliness. It is a looking glass nocturnal Paris populated entirely by the most wayward of lost souls and makes no attempt to justify any of this to the viewer. I can understand why some people would find it all too strange and possibly even offensive - but I think others will find something relatable here even if that's a terribly uncomfortable fact. Another totally amazing soundtrack with Strangler and I probably will have to pick it up on disc at some point as well as catch some more Paul Vecchiali features.

The Vault of Horror (1973) - Nothing has October vibes in quite the way Amicus anthologies do! I can't marathon these collections but I'm so happy to watch one or two every year and Vault is so supremely worthwhile. I was re-visiting the EC Crime SuspenStories earlier this year and even though those are not primarily horror books, I think it still put me in the right headspace for Vault. Per usual, some of the sections are stronger than others, but there's no real weak links in this one. Roy Ward Baker directed some of the oddball Hammer films (which I tend to favor) and handles this all rather well in the spirit of the original comics. The cast is a delight and you get some terrific stuff from Curd Jürgens, Tom Baker, and many more. Glynis Johns passed away at 100 years of age this year and she is wonderfully fun in her role.

The Mummy (1959) - I confess that I'm not the worlds' biggest Hammer fan but I'm always trying around this time of year to find the ones I like best. The Mummy's narrative is about as boilerplate pulp dramatics as you'll find anywhere but it is an aesthetic feast of a film and comparatively action packed. Green-lit ancient tombs, flashbacks to elaborate Egyptian rites and magic, and (most critically) Lee's moldering mummy tearing around killing people. He descends and rises from bogs, crashes through windows, and is an exemplary mummy of few words and lots of action. Cushing holds his own as a aristocratic archaeologist and Yvonne Furneaux plays double duty as Cushing's fiancée and Egyptian priestess/princess Ananka. I expect most Hammer fiends have seen this time and time again but if you find yourself resistant to their more gothic fare, you might check this one out. 

Horror Castle (1963) - My man, Antonio Margheriti, delivering some ghastly yet groovy Italo-gothic action. First thing's first - DO NOT READ THE LETTERBOXD SYNOPSIS. Not only does it give away the mystery, it's not even accurate. However, once you've managed that you should dive right in for some ace October vibes. Others have written it but it does feel like a bit of a blend of Italian Gothic and German Krimi. Part Bava, part Scooby Doo Mysteries, with a wild, horrific final twist. Christopher Lee is woefully underutilized overall, but does get a shining moment towards the last act. No shortage of castles, cobwebs, secret passageways, tombs, rats, skeletons, secrets, and medieval torture devices. I could see Riz Ortolani's lush jazz feeling incongruous for some people but I absolutely loved it. I caught this on a weirdly up-rez'd copy on YT but I think Severin might be releasing this one? Definitely something I'd be into.

Hallucinations (1986) - Shot on video horror is another genre that I can't marathon but does hold a special, October-y place in my heart. A very young Mark and John Polonia deliver a slab of barely coherent Pennsylvania fever dreaming that I found totally intoxicating. There's only the faintest of pretexts as to why anything in Hallucinations is happening but the Polonia's are clearly driven by the purest of genre filmmaking intentions - put wild ass shit on the screen. Mutilation, monsters, elf urination, psychic dismemberment, and a rather courageous physical performance from John. I also like how much of the limited runtime seems dedicated to Mark's relationship with his cat. Absolute weirdo classic. You probably already know if you have the taste for this kind of deal.

Taste of Fear (1961) - Another Hammer film but one well outside of their classic horror line. Taste of Fear runs closer to a Diabolique inspired thriller but does manage to straddle genres in a similar way. I thought this was totally gorgeous, sonically varied and interesting, and genuinely suspenseful. There is a twist, naturally, but I thought it delivered a decent surprise. I thought Susan Strasberg's performance was excellent and (again) we get Lee more as a side character but an interesting one. I'll admit that I'm easily won over by 60s jet-setting thrillers where wealthy people do terrible things to each other, but this one is excellent. 

Whoever Slew Auntie Roo? (1972) - I put this on before remembering that it's a Christmas movie and by then I was already invested in the film. Auntie Roo? is a very loose adaptation of Hansel & Gretel and honestly, isn't much of a fright-fest. However, it is a showcase for a positively unhinged Shelley Winters performance and isn't that a compelling enough reason to watch it? The kids are not alright in this one and Winters manages to be fairly unnerving whether she's singing lullabies or eating apples. The finale is pretty brutal, all things considered. This should absolutely be in your holiday lineup if you go for cult Christmas films.

Blood Bath (1966) - The product of a strange, disjointed production and featuring two different directors (Jack Hill and Stephanie Rothman) - apparently Svengoolie claimed that Blood Bath was the worst film he ever featured on his program. For the first 20-30 minutes or so I could see where Sven was coming from but there's something about this one that eventually pulled me into its acidic waters. It's very 60s and the antagonist, William Campbell as Atonio Sordii, is an avant-garde painter who depicts scenes of butchered women, referred to as his "dead, red, nudes." There are several scenes featuring Karl Schanzer and Sid Haig (among others) as laughable beatniks who sit around cafes and attempt to imbue meaning into various methods of splattering pigment on canvas. It turns out that Sordii needs to actually kill women to create his masterpieces and he might actually be a vampire or reincarnation of a murderous ancestor or possibly just insane. The plot beats are reminiscent of Corman's A Bucket of Blood or H.G. Lewis' Color Me Blood Red but (intentionally or not) Blood Bath results in a much weirder, dreamier film. There are several flashback or dream sequences - shot by Rothman- that contribute to that and I just found myself very immersed in the atmosphere. I couldn't exactly tell where this was supposed to be taking place - it seems like Italy but nearly everyone in the film is American. There are some vampiric effects, there is an acid bath with a trapdoor, and there are no shortage of lovely ladies facing immediate physical peril. I admit to a weakness for kooky, 60s horror and I was a fan of this one by the final frame. 

The Seventh Victim (1943) - Another huge blind spot for me and one I'm glad to fill in courtesy of Criterion's excellent Val Lewton set that also includes I Walked With a Zombie (which I had seen before or it surely would have been listed here). Mark Robson delivers a visual knockout - the cinematographer on Victim was frequent Lewton collaborator Nicholas Musuraca - and though the storyline is ultimately rather grounded in pulp/noir traditions, it still manages to be quite strange. Occult orders and conspiracies aren't entirely out of line in pulp fiction though they are often found to be sham operations by rip-off artists. That isn't the case, here. The occult ties aren't necessarily as pronounced as I might have thought they would be, but Victim presents the "Palladists" as completely committed devil worshippers and even ones that are sympathetic in some ways (they are somewhat dedicated to non-violence, for instance). I also appreciated that this is an NYC film and that these are Greenwich Village cultists - who doesn't love bohemians gone evil? In the end, The Seventh Victim goes for the bleakest possible resolutions and it's profoundly affecting. If, like me, you haven't managed to catch this - it would make an excellent addition to your Noirvember lineup.

Kenny & Company (1976) - The first film in what was my Halloween triple-header. Kenny & Co. is not actually a horror film but it is set on and around Halloween and it was directed by multi-faceted genre weirdo, Don Coscarelli, so I'm saying it counts. It's a coming of age film somehow impossibly nostalgic for the time in which it was actually made. Maybe sentimental to a fault but also surprisingly existential and occasionally bizarre. Amidst the pre-teen hijinks and skateboarding sequences there are several sober (if youthful) ruminations on death and dying. This is set in Southern California so the vibes are more Halloween-y than they are Autumnal to my midwestern brain, but you can just luxuriate in them all the same. If you're at all a fan of the Freaks and Geeks Halloween episode, Tricks and Treats, you will probably dig this one. Of course, I am perhaps overly wistful about an age before computers where the threat of physical peril was ever present and your hobbies consisted largely of low level criminal activity. 

FleshEater (1988) -  Number two in my Halloween-a-thon. Bill Hinzman, the original flesh-eating ghoul from Night of the Living Dead, directs and stars in a Halloween set hybrid of Romero-worshipping gut munching and 80s slasher tropes. If Hinzman was looking to do some incisive social commentary per his mentor, it must have been lost on the cutting room floor. Young people drink beer, smoke grass, get naked, and then are summarily ripped to shreds by Hinzman - only to rise up and enact the same ritual on the next set of unsuspecting slobs. The physical effects are cheap but fun and in the vein of classic Romero-esque nihilism, nobody is safe from the undead. I actually found the end result to be a good time and charming in a way so many of the revered regional slashers fail to be. Yes, you are subjected to fumbling make-out sessions, bad dancing, and braindead conversations, but at least Hinzman delivers on the gory goods. I followed this up with my annual watch of Halloween III and called it a night.

Theatrical Screenings!

I made it out for a lot of seasonal screenings this year, but also have some non-spooky additions to highlight. It's always tough as I feel like awards season starts to pick up in October and there are lots of films I'd like to see but can't always find the time. One day I'll attend something at the Twin Cities Film Festival, I promise!

We Live in Time (2024) - This was, somewhat oddly, the first movie I watched in October. Not at all seasonal but I was a fan of John Crowley's Brooklyn and have been known to indulge in a solid relationship drama on occasion. We Live in Time's formal conceit of disjointed time-hopping through the lives and relationship of Almut and Tobias (Florence Pugh and Andrew Garfield) is nothing shockingly innovative but it's handled rather well and keeps the narrative flowing along at an engaging pace. I think the main thing to be said here is that Pugh and Garfield have absurdly good chemistry onscreen and I think people will fall in love with them as a couple. As romantic tragicomedies go, Time exudes an avalanche of charm and the nonlinear reveal gives the audience ample opportunity to become truly invested in Almut and Tobias before things take a turn in the final act that is both melancholy and a little strange. I also have some questions around the Tobias character and what his motivations add up to be outside of being in love with Almut. My feelings around the finale and characterization aside, there is a scene in a convenience store bathroom that may wind up being one of the most memorable sequences committed to film this year. It's insane and hilarious and I was totally in the moment as it unfolded. Not a firm recommend for genre film diehards but if you like to get a bit weepy with charismatic performers, this should be on your list.

Suffer, Little Children (1983) - We were able to catch this at SIFF Egyptian while visiting Seattle. Little Children was programmed as part of SIFFs collaboration with Scarecrow Video in their "Scarecrowber" series. Gorgeous theater, great staff, and the Egyptian is undoubtedly a terrific venue to catch capital “C” cinema. Suffer Little Children is 1000% not that. It is a shot on video satanic panic horror from the UK that apparently was largely conceived and made as a school project by the credited director's students. Due to the satanic themes and the violence inflicted on children, Suffer managed to find itself on the infamous "video nasties" list and I believe only recently it's been possible to see the uncut version. The plot essentially boils down to an evil possessed kid who relocates to an orphanage and then the supernatural mayhem kicks in. It's filled with wild music and you frequently can't make out what anyone is saying but luckily dialogue isn't necessary to catch the broad strokes of the action. It’s rare (for me) to see this level of barely coherent murderdrone SOV insanity with an audience and I absolutely relished the chance to do so. The final 15-20 minutes was an absolute riot even with a somewhat sparse crowd. Come, Satan, Come!

Nickel Boys (2024) - I can't say too much about this at the moment other than I'm looking forward to it getting wider release and talking about it more later this year!

The Super Spook Show Spectacular - I wrote a whole damn post about my favorite new(ish) October tradition. Please put your eyeballs on it if you haven't already: https://kino-ventura.blogspot.com/2024/10/demonic-invocations-live-witch-trials.html

Rumours (2024) - I knew that this was going to be weird, but I don't think I understood how weird. Even stranger is that this might be on the lower end of the weirdness scale from Guy Maddin. I did find this hilarious, deeply cynical, and ultimately a good, strange time at the cinema. It won't be the greatest film of the year but I respect the commitment to inflicting chaos on the viewer (it also looks tremendous which never hurts). Undoubtedly will have its fans and something I imagine could end up on Waters' best of 2024 list?

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Demonic Invocations, Live Witch Trials, and Simian Surgery - The Super Spook Show Spectacular 2024!

 Last year around this time I wrote glowingly about Cinema of the Macabre's first Super Spook Show Spectacular and wished sincerely that this would become an annual event. The FORCES OF DARKNESS (Tim and CotM) apparently heard my plea and the Twin Cities was fortunate enough to see a repeat this year. For the uninitiated, the Super Spook Show Spectacular is essentially a horror movie mini-marathon consisting of four mystery films. While some marathons focus on things like exhibiting on film or especially spooky venues - CotM's event leans heavily into the spook show/ghost show traditions of live hosts, "shocking" rituals, monstruous surprises, and some seriously cool swag. Programming-wise, Tim and Co. so far have been eschewing more obvious horror/Halloween hits in favor of selections decidedly in the cult/psychotronic vein which really suits the overall vibe of the show. They do not offer pre-show clues or categories of what the films will be but it looks like the first two events follow a loose pattern and I'll write more about that

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The 2023 Spook Show featured a vaguely medical theme with spooky nurses in attendance and a vomit bag containing a certificate offering fright insurance upon entry. This year the atmosphere took on more of an occult aspect - blank faced minions distributed contracts to relinquish audience members' souls in the event they departed during the proceedings. Our host, resplendent in ritual garb, introduced the event and informed us that this year they would be summoning an actual demon - Togroth, Devourer of Souls - to appear within the theater by the end of the show. The summoning rite would be a multi-part affair requiring participation from everyone in attendance. Phase one was an esoteric invocation lead by the minions - though they forgot their ancient tome and this chant definitely felt a little improvised. Trailers for The First Power and Q: The Winged Serpent led us into the first film.

God Told Me To (1976) - Larry Cohen's occult, sorta conspiracy, profoundly weird, gritty NYC crime thriller opened up the show. It's been a few years since I've seen GTMT, I'd never seen it on a big screen before, and I was legitimately excited for it. Regular readers of this blog are (maybe painfully) aware of my enthusiasm for New York films of this era and Cohen captures the city unlike just about anyone else. His run and gun, guerilla attitude towards coverage leads to such a visceral hurtling through the streets and captures a genuine candidness that bigger productions struggle to achieve. It's more than obvious that some sequences involve non-acting New Yorkers reacting to situations thrust upon them by Cohen and his crew - sometimes in surprise and more than often with total indifference. I will say that the day that seems to begin at the St. Patrick's Day Parade and finishes at the Feast of St. Gennaro rubs me slightly the wrong way - but seasonal continuity is probably the least reality bending facet of a film featuring hippie messiahs, mass mind control, corporate occultism, and alien insemination. I always recall how weird GTMT winds up but I forget the most of it is a (relatively grounded) police procedural that's propulsive in its own right. Tony Lo Bianco was a king of NYC crime drama at the time and Sandy Dennis also delivers an excellent performance that ads plausibility even as the plot skews increasingly bizarre. Terrific way to start things

Burn, Witch, Burn (1962) - An authentic witch was required for the next phase of the demon summoning ritual so some audience members volunteered to participate in a series of challenges - trials, if you will - to determine if any of them were truly a witch. It was close but a witch was eventually identified, given a prize package, and then led out to the parking lot to be burned at the stake. We salute their sacrifice! The leading trailers for the next movie were The Witches and City of the Dead so I absolutely knew we were going to watch Night of the Eagle/Burn, Witch, Burn. Coincidentally, I had just recommended all three films to someone looking for witchcraft movies. I have written a full-length review of Eagle on this site so feel free to check that out if you're interested. I had never seen it on the big screen though and those eagle scenes absolutely deliver. It's a terrific October choice and just a film I have a great deal of affection for. I suspect it's one that not a lot of folks in the audience had not seen and I'm beyond stoked for them to be introduced to it like this. 

The Sect (1991) - In a semi-return to the previous year's medical theme, the third part of the ritual required the heart of a baboon. Unfortunately only a gorilla was available but our intrepid cultists forged onward in some seriously suspect surgery. The necessary organs were removed but there may have been some primate rampaging to follow. Nothing entertains quite like someone in a gorilla suit causing mayhem in a crowded theater. My mind is blanking on the trailers leading up to this one but they were a couple of grindhouse flicks I actually had not seen. Regardless, we found ourselves thrust into Michele Soavi's surreal, occult nightmare - The Sect. I know The Sect is rarely anyone's favorite Soavi feature, but I think it holds up well. I already had a copy and skipped over the recent Severin release and it had been a few years since I last watched it. I had indelible images in my memory (channel surfing bunny, satanic face transplant, monster bird humping) but couldn't recall exactly how they all tied together. In fairness, it's not the most cohesive conspiracy story ever told and some of the ideas maybe should have hit the cutting room floor (why the Rolling Stones are invoked repeatedly is the real mystery). However, Soavi delivers on nightmarish imagery and stylish camera work like few others. It's not as outrageously bonkers as some of the favorite 80s-90s Italian nonsense flicks, but it's still a powerful, dreamy spectacle that I can get into.

Black Roses (1988) - I came in a little late from the break and caught the penultimate piece of the demon summoning ritual in progress. I believe the devotees were consuming ceremonial blood to prepare their voices for demonic invocation which they gamely provided. The trailers leading up to the final film were Demon Wind and Trick or Treat which I'm relatively certain have both screened before in the very theater we were sitting in. Much like last year, the final movie was a goofball 80s musically themed horror and much like last year it was the only one I had not seen before. I've been meaning to catch Black Roses for ages so I was happy to have it finally foisted upon my eyeballs with an unsuspecting audience. Roses opens really strong with a fully monstrous band playing to a crowd of fanatics but then things slow down for a while when the band inexplicably arrives at a small Canadian town to kick off their world tour. This hits a lot of 80s sweet spots - hair metal, ancient teenagers, lambos, demon puppets, mustaches, and boobs. I thought it was a lot of fun and a great way to cap off the show. I confess, I'd love to have more of that demonic band causing mayhem in the streets but some of the set-pieces (speaker monster, especially) are well worth the price of admission. 

Following the final film, we were favored with an appearance by THE Togroth, devourer of souls. I'll leave some mystery around that but it was a great bit. I'm not sure anything will touch Edgar Allen Poe's appearance last year, but that felt like it was written with me specifically in mind. Regarding film categories/patterns - last year featured a 70s cult classic in Tourist Trap, a black & white 60s horror in Spider Baby, some absolute Italian nonsense in Luigi Cozzi's, Edgar Allen Poe's The Black Cat, and an over-the-top 80s musical horror in Slumber Party Massacre II. So we hit on some analogous selections this year as well. Not sure if that will be "the" categories moving forward but the continuity is pretty cool either way. What I can say is that I imagine the Super Spook Show Spectacular will continue as this year seemed bigger and more well attended. It's been a real pleasure to see Cinema of the Macabre and Tape Freaks develop such a devoted fanbase over the last couple of years, especially. Like I said in last years' write-up, I respect and appreciate the overnight horrorthons out there but the Spook Show is way more my speed - keeping the focus more on having a good time than sheer mental and physical fortitude. If I could buy my tickets for 2025 today, I would. Huge shout-out of course to Cinema of the Macabre and Emagine Willow Creek for putting on such a quality event. If you attended this year, let me know what you thought either here or on IG, and please come back when I post my October Best-Of/Horror Gives Back article at the end of the month!

Thanks to Bronson for the Poster Pic!

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Best New-to-Me: August 2024

I'm stubborn enough that I'm largely absent from anything remotely close to the "online discourse" around films. I keep active on select few social media accounts and most of my movie discussion comes down to chatting with friends. Not that I don't read criticism, I think it's important to do that, but since a lot of what I'm watching trends older I'm either reading new reviews of older films or (often ideally) contemporaneous writing from when the film was released. When I do subject myself to some brands of online media I feel a distinct disconnect between what's happening there and how my own cinematic pursuits are shaping up. This isn't me trying to be smug as much as I hope I'm not falling completely out of touch with the culture. I'm looking what I watched in August and I see a terrific list of films and when I think about the higher profile films I caught in the theater this summer, I'm just not very deeply moved by any of it. I know I'm skirting dangerously close to Abe Simpson yelling at clouds territory but it's just one of those things that's been on my mind, lately.

Anyway, I did watch a lot of great movies in August and my theater attendance still hasn't been great but I caught some astoundingly good repertory screenings.

Tchao Pantin (1983) - An impeccable neo-noir classic from Claude Berri featuring an astounding performance from Coluche; Tchao Pantin eluded me for years until recently released by Radiance Films. Struggling to find relatively obscure films that lack stars or failed to ignite interest from audiences or critics upon initial release is par for the course. However, Pantin was a big hit in France winning several Cesars and was even submitted as the French selection for the Academy Awards (though it was not ultimately nominated). Even today, my understanding is that Tchao Pantin is well regarded and well-remembered in its native France though it seems little seen or discussed in the anglophone world. Hopefully, this latest release can turn that around. Coluche's heartbreaking turn as a solitary alcoholic filling station attendant who makes some unlikely companions in a young immigrant and a punk rocker turns into an explosive revenge story all set against a strikingly bleak vision of Paris. Highly recommended.

How to Beat the High Cost of Living (1980) - The poster and the opening credits had me believing this was much more of a sex farce than it turned out to be. That's totally okay with me, though. Absurdly charming, frequently funny cast (Jane Curtin, Jessica Lange, and Susan Saint James) set against a nearly 80s Eugene, Oregon backdrop including some priceless shopping mall location work. It's not outrageously comedic but this is pure comfort food as far as I'm concerned.

The Big Combo (1955) -  Extremely solid hardboiled noir flick with some unexpected twists. Retains some nice stylistic flourishes, uses some actual location footage, and focuses more on hard-hitting crime action than big melodrama. Richard Conte is great as the top crook and Cornel Wilde isn't nearly as dull as a lot of noir male leads. Lee Van Cleef and Earl Holliman play gangsters who seem explicitly queer coded. The characters are villains but this wrinkle never seems to be played for laughs or as evidence of perversion. There's a soundless execution scene in this that's about as cold blooded as any sequence I can think of. Potent stuff.

Mean Frank and Crazy Tony (1973) - It's not easy to pull of a crime film that's both explicitly comedic but also pretty ruthless, and this one manages to do it. Tony Lo Bianco is a low level hood and goofball who is obsessed with Lee Van Cleef's mafia boss. There's a lot of interactions played for laughs but when the action gets serious, it's fairly brutal stuff. Far more power drill killings than you might expect. Edwidge Fenech also features prominently as Lo Bianco's girlfriend and she's great even if she has a totally unfortunate accent in the English dub.

La Chèvre (1981) - Crime comedy from Francis Veber featuring Pierre Richard and Gérard Depardieu. I was in the mood for something light and possibly stupid and La Chèvre is those things but I wouldn't dismiss it as strictly superficial. I can't help but be reminded of Veber's L'emmerdeur/A Pain in the Ass which goes darker and I think I prefer, but has a similar set up. I like that Richard doesn't play his astoundingly unlucky character as sympathetic. He's kind of an asshole and that makes it even funnier as he strains Depardieu's private investigator to the point of total exasperation. The quicksand gag might is one of the more hilarious things I've seen all year.

The Stranger (1946) - Orson Welles' directs and stars in this post-war thriller that's fairly well known but a first time watch for me. The opening 10-15 minutes are pretty much flawless and the clock tower finale is tremendous. Lord knows I live for a dummy drop but sword wielding automatons really up the ante. My attention did start to flag a bit when the action strayed from shadowy pulp adventure and into the light of domestic melodrama. Still solid throughout and Welles' dinner monologue about the character of the German people is something to behold.

Ransom for a Dead Man (1971) - Columbo! I believe this is officially the pilot episode for the first season of Falk's shabby detective, but it aired as a television movie several months before the show launched so I don't have an issue listing it here. This is certainly a more fully formed Columbo character than appeared a few years before in Prescription: Murder and was a big enough hit for the program to move forward. As great as Falk is, I think Dead Man hinges on Lee Grant's terrific performance as the self assured business woman who takes daring solo flights to relax. Love all that aerial footage too - modern drone shots can't compare to the real deal.

Love and Crime (1969) - Just when I think I know what I'm in for with Teruo Ishii, he still manages to throw some curveballs. Love and Crime features the grotesquerie, sleaze, and sexual violence I have come to expect from Ishii but is inspired by actual events instead of erotic fantasy. This is an anthology piece that's theoretically centered around female murderers but one of the longer, more involved sections actually focuses on notorious (and male) post-war serial killer, Yoshio Kodaira. This odd sequence out is also differentiated by being shot in grimy black and white and can feel like an interminable litany of abuse and murder. However, it's also incredibly daring for 1969 and in ways presages grim true crime dramatizations like Henry or Angst. Ishii's most audacious and arguably tasteless choice is to feature the real Sada Abe as herself recounting the story of her affair and eventual murder of her lover. It's probably an overreach on Ishii's part but I found it chilling once I realized what was happening.

Extreme Prejudice (1987) - This has been on my watchlist for ages and I finally bit the bullet and snagged a copy. I wasn't disappointed. Unrelenting Walter Hill action that mixes hardboiled crime with a border town western. Unbelievably good cast featuring a dream lineup straight out of TBS Movies for Guys Who Like Movies: Nick Nolte, Powers Boothe, Michael Ironside, Clancy Brown, and Rip goddamn Torn among others. Jerry Goldsmith provides a killer score and while the plot beats are recognizable to pulp aficionados, they twist and unfurl in interesting ways. I felt a sudden compulsion to revisit The Wild Bunch after watching this one.

The Mob (1951) - I wasn't entirely sure what I was getting into here but I really enjoyed this rough and tumble waterfront corruption tale. Some of the harder edges are smoothed over by lighter dialogue heavy sequences, but writing is smart and funny and I didn't ever mind. Broderick Crawford manages the material well with a lot of bluster. He's charming and pretty believable as a guy who could handle himself in a scrap. The supporting cast was very good and there are some minor appearances for Bronson, Borgnine, and Neville Brand. Unlike some of the cheaper B-films, The Mob features a varied production design with some terrific looking sets rather than limiting itself to similar looking bars and apartment rooms.

Thieves' Highway (1949) - Absolute banger, here. Not sure why it took me so long to get to this one other than some tepid reviews I'd read. I love Jules Dassin and his mastery of suspense, sense of place, and progressive attitudes are fully on display in Highway. Dassin's exile to Europe wouldn't happen for another couple of years though the writing was likely already on the wall - still, his interest in European film and literature seems evident in Highway. This feels like it has significant connective tissue with something like Port of Shadows with its sexual frankness and working class solidarity. The finale is perhaps too cute and excuses any institutional corruption - blaming everything on a few bad apples (hey-yo!) but it doesn't lessen the impact of the action that precedes it.

Gilda (1946) - A film that manages to showcase a lot of the strengths and weaknesses of the American noir milieu but I think winds up firmly in the positive. There are some positively astounding shots, camera moves, and images. The carnival tracking shot is clearly an influential one. Rita Hayworth practically emits sparks with her performance and Glenn Ford is a perfect match in the heat/hate department. The plot is messy and while my personal preferences would have been for more of a crime story, the action is clearly with the love(?) triangle. I've been to Buenos Aires a couple of times and found it a remarkable place. This set-bound tale gives you no feel for it at all. Having said that, I'd reserve a table at that Montevideo night club any day of the week.

The Wait (2023) - In an attempt to remain relevant I watched a relatively recent horror film! I kid, but I genuinely did like this folk horror/rural noir out of Spain. In fairness, the horror elements don't kick in until late in the film but I was drawn in by the bleak atmosphere and Victor Clavijo's lead performance. The final 30 mins deliver a touch of body horror and then some tantalizingly ambiguous occult threads that I really enjoyed. I don't generally associate folk horror with unrelenting Spanish heat but seeing as I watched this in August, I suppose this is an appropriate transitional piece to Fall spooky season.

Theatrical Screenings!

Seven Samurai (1954) - What the hell do you even say about Kurosawa's global hit and samurai epic masterpiece? I believe I first watched what would have been the slightly truncated version on a double VHS cassette from my local library. I remember going in knowing that it would be "long" and I was blown away by how well it still moved. 30+ years later, I'm still astounded at the mastery of pace and story. I've seen Samurai theatrically before but it's still an absolute dream to catch it on a big screen and no doubt I'll queue up for it yet again one day.

Play it as it Lays (1972) - I was absolutely thrilled to hear that Frank Perry's strange, melancholic adaptation of Joan Didion's novel (screenplay by Didion) was going to be playing locally and on 35mm film. Copies of Play it as it Lays are vanishingly rare and I don't know of any current effort to restore it or revive it. I didn't think I was likely to ever see it theatrically unless I lucked out on either coast. Much like Tuesday Weld's character, it's not an easy movie to love. There's a lot of pain and grief laid bare on the screen even and Didion's caustic wit doesn't balance the experience by much. Still, seeing it with an audience and absorbing the stunned silence during the devastating penultimate scene is the reason we go to the cinema. Total heartbreaker and I'd see it again next week if I could.

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