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.
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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