Best New-to-Me: December 2023

 My last post and last New-to-Me list of 2023. I actually did a list for every month this year which is the baseline of consistency I was looking to accomplish in this space. As always, thanks for reading those and the other little lists and reviews I've managed to put up this year. If you have not checked it out already, please take a look at my French Crime Christmas movie list and reviews. I watched a lot of other great flicks in December, but I still think Paris Pick-Up is probably my discovery of the month. Much like in November, I've been getting out to the theater very regularly as the onslaught of festival films starts to hit our shores and awards season approaches. I love our local repertory scene but it's also fun to go out to new movies with other people who are excited to see them - even if the films don't always land cleanly with me. I'm definitely looking forward to the Film Independent Spirit Awards screenings starting next month for similar reasons. There are always some great movies programmed and there's at least a touch of that festival energy in the air. Anyway I hope you had a good holiday or at least a break from the grind and here are the final new-to-me movies of the year.

T.R. Baskin (1971) - Baskin is a movie I'd heard of  but had no inkling of where to watch it until it was recently released by Fun City Editions. It stars Candice Bergen as the titular Baskin - a young woman who recently moved to Chicago looking to find "fame and fortune" and herself to a degree. Her story is told largely through flashback during a confessional conversation she has with a traveling businessman played by Peter Boyle - who was under the impression that she was some kind of escort. The film is a genuine curiosity - in many ways it fits within the milieu of New Hollywood films but bucks against the themes and conventions the movement is often associated with. The story centers squarely on a woman, she's a fully realized character, and though she is sexually objectified by men around her, it's not really the story about sex lives or sexual awakenings (quite a contrast to Carnal Knowledge which came out the same year starring Bergen). It's also shot fully on location in Chicago which was extremely rare at the time and gives the film a unique look and feel compared to the deluge of of New York and Los Angeles movies that are synonymous with the period. The films cover reads "Candice Bergen Is T.R. Baskin" and that statement couldn't ring more true. If there was ever a woman born to play this role, it's Bergen. Although she was quite young at the time, there's this inherent maturity to Bergen that fits Baskin perfectly - the character both being naive about city living and possessing an incredible astuteness in her observations. Boyle is also tremendous in his role as a sad-sack foil to Baskin's unrelenting wit. It's a complete about-face from his breakout role in Joe only one year previous. The film does employ a plot conceit that's a touch awkward for me, but it's overflowing with rich dialogue, great performances, and a brilliant collection of Chicago location work. The disc looks terrific and supplemental features add some great context to what is a real discovery for me this year.

One False Move (1991) - This definitely falls into the better-late-than-never category. I'm not sure what's been keeping me from watching Carl Franklin's relentlessly hardboiled 90s neo-noir standout, but I knew that grabbing a copy of the Criterion 4k would ensure that I finally got around to it. There are a couple of aesthetic choices that I did not love but One False Move has a violent authenticity to it that apparently stems from both Franklin's biography (he sets up a scene similarly to how he saw someone get shot) as well as extensive conversations between LAPD and writers Thornton and Epperson. Bill Paxton totally inhabits the character of Dale Dixon but I was truly impressed with Cynda Williams and Michael Beach in their comparatively nuanced performances. You probably don't need me to recommend this one to you but if you need a nudge, you have been nudged.

 Dirty Money (1972) - Another absolute 70s Quebecois crime banger from the good people of Canadian International Pictures. I was under the impression that Dirty Money would be more of a comedy but I didn't really perceive it as such. It's frequently compared to Blood Simple and like that film, it does have a certain dark irony and there is a stark absurdity to its brutality. However, also like the Coen's debut, Dirty Money delivers on low budget yet hard hitting genre goods. I'm absolutely loving these crime films coming from CIP so I hope more are in the works.

Les Cousins/The Cousins (1959) - I've been watching a lot of Chabrol this year and especially in December so I'm going to cover a few in a row. I'm trying not to just include all of them but this truly has been a rewarding pursuit and one I'm happy to continue into next year. Cousins was supposed to be Chabrol's debut feature but he was able to put the funding together for Le Beau Serge first so Cousins had to wait. Still one of the earliest Nouvelle Vague pictures out of the gate, it mirrors Serge in many ways. The country is exchanged for the city and while the two leads aren't a precise exchange of their previous roles, Jean-Claude Brialy becomes the brasher character while Gerard Blain assumes an introspective demeanor. I like both films but Cousins is more indicative of the kind of Chabrol movies I've become such a fan of - bad behavior, class conflict, generational strife, deceit, and generous helpings of existential angst. Henri Decaë shot both films and while the neo-realist informed Serge is undoubtedly a handsome picture, Decaë seems more assured in the urban milieu - street scenes, driving sequences, and a camera lurking around corners, capturing stolen moments. The leads are both excellent but Cousins was also the screen debut of Juliette Mayniel. She's probably best known for Eyes Without a Face but I really fell in love with her watching Night of the Hunted last month. She delivers an impressive performance as the woman caught between the desires of the cousins as well as her own. 

La Femme Infidèle/The Unfaithful Wife (1968) - The first film in Chabrol's Hélène cycle and perhaps the original text for the "Chabrol-ian" thriller. Stéphane Audran (Chabrol's wife at the time) plays a beautiful woman who is bored in her marriage to a successful insurance executive played by Michel Bouquet. The film follows them as they go through the motions of their bourgeois life but suspicions are aroused around how Audran's character spends her free time. The plot beats for La Femme couldn't be more straightforward though the finale does twist ever so slightly - however it's how everything is presented that makes this such a powerful viewing experience. The deliberate pacing, the wry sense of humor, the character studies all conspire to rachet up the tension and hold the viewer in suspense. If I had a better mind for classic films I'm sure I could see more of the Hitchcockian references on display but there are certainly some nods towards Psycho and Vertigo that even I could pluck out. I've been hopping all around Chabrol's filmography this year, but this might be where I recommend people start if they're interested in his thriller mode of filmmaking. 

Poulet au Vinaigre/Cop au Vin (1984) - I've seen this get some middling reviews from people who I think must either be expecting something more shocking or something more conventional. In Poulet Chabrol delivers something akin to an Agatha Christie mystery but the investigation doesn't even start until midway through the film. However (and this is something that I've noticed in a lot of French mystery stories) the first hour of the film is spent painstakingly immersing the viewer in all of the local intrigue that's as important if not more important than the details of the murder. I was able to re-watch some of the scenes with commentary from Chabrol (thanks to Arrow's truly excellent box set) and he sets it all up so beautifully that it's impossible not to admire his craftsmanship. This is perhaps on the lighter side of his filmography but I really enjoyed it and actually prefer it to the more conventional Inspector Levardin films that would follow.

Betty (1992) - A somewhat detached but no less engrossing tale of a woman (Marie Trintignant) spiraling into self-destruction following the implosion of her bourgeois life. The present storyline unfolds in a bizarre limbo-like hotel and restaurant somewhere "near Versailles" and the tale of Betty's downfall is revealed via interwoven flashbacks (and occasionally flashbacks within flashbacks). The style doesn't feel overwrought and though Betty has thriller plot beats at a distance, the execution feels much closer to an arthouse film. Trintignant is very good and Stéphane Audran is tremendous and even heartbreaking as the affluent older woman who takes Betty into her care. Following the release of La Cérémonie, Chabrol addressed why so many of his films were centered around women, "They live in a world that is still very macho. So to be heroines, they don't have to do extraordinary things. It's enough for them to be women to have very real problems." While the situation the women of Betty find themselves in is hardly universal, their struggles around desire, addiction, and self-worth are highly relatable. 

Ménage (1986) - The cinematic personification of "Be Gay, Do Crimes." Whatever philosophy actually drives Bertrand Blier is not clear to me other than his love of chaos, provocation, and absurdity. I also have to wonder what Gerard Depardieu was really like as a younger man (he seems mostly horrible as an older one). I read Ménage as a largely a joyous expression of ridiculousness but, as always with Blier, your mileage may vary.

Italianamaerican (1974) - I've been on a slight Scorsese binge with Killers of the Flower Moon in theaters this year and After Hours and Mean Streets releasing on 4K. His early documentary where he interviews his parents is as effortlessly charming as they both would prove to be in his fictional work. There are conversational beats in this film that are essentially echoes of their later performances in films that I've totally internalized after a youth spent watching them on repeat. I love that the conversation settles around storytelling as an artform as Scorsese's own work is so frequently fueled by a recreation of oral storytelling - either through first person narration or iconic scenes of characters sharing anecdotes. I also watched American Boy and would recommend that as well if only to hear the original version of Pulp Fiction's famous overdose scene.

Full Time (2021) - I loved Laure Calamy in Origin of Evil which I saw earlier this year so perhaps I would have tracked this down one way or another - but I confess that I was definitely nudged towards watching Full Time after hearing Samm Deighan recorded a commentary track for Music Box Film's blu ray release. Either way, I'm so glad to have watched it. I think there's a fair criticism that the politics of Full Time isn't exhaustively articulated - however I think it presents perfectly well a perspective from a person struggling to put the pieces together in the face of repeated hardship and frustration. A key point of the film and the source of its anxiety inducing kinetics is Julie's problems getting from her (presumably) more affordable suburban home to her job in Paris in the midst of a transit strike. The strike and the transit workers are largely without a voice in the film, only providing an obstacle to Julie's frantic attempts to keep her life on the rails - but that's part of the insidiousness of the system we're in. Julie may well be sympathetic to the transit workers' plight (she does not criticize them in the film) but it doesn't stop her from having to get to work, to pick up her children, to feed them, and to try to improve her lot. Julie's one source of optimism is her pending application for a corporate marketing job - one which she is actually overqualified for - which could be seen as politically reactionary. Scrambling at all costs - including abusing the trust of her co-workers - to get out of a working class position at a hotel to achieve the incremental victory of landing in the white collar world. However, I don't know that the film even paints this possible future as particularly promising. It's a respite perhaps, the boot is lifted ever so slightly for a moment, but there's no reason to think that the corporate churn will treat her much better.

Mademoiselle (1966) - Tony Richardson's largely French study in cruelty is a bit of a conundrum to me. On the one hand, it's beautifully shot and Jeanne Moreau's portrayal of an icy sociopath is as good as anything she's ever done. No small part of me wants to see this theatrically as soon as possible. On the other hand there's elements of Mademoiselle that come off as ham-fisted: the clunky Freudian imagery, the seemingly actual pain and death inflicted on animals, and the idea that Jeanne Moreau has somehow been driven mad from sexual frustration doesn't quite convince. It's still a hell of a movie and well worth seeking out if you think you can stomach it. Richardson is a huge blind spot for me and it sounds like Mademoiselle is somewhat singular in his filmography. Still, I'd like to watch more of his stuff.

The Treasure of Abbot Thomas (1974) - I confess that I do not universally adore the M.R. James "Ghost Story for Christmas" adaptations but Abbot Thomas is now one of my favorites. Genuinely disturbing and spooky with a terrific final sting. It follows the usual story of academics failing to heed the warnings of older, esoteric arts and finding the darkness that lurks in hidden places. Good stuff!

Theatrical Screenings!

The Holdovers (2023) - Genuinely excellent. I wondered if the 70s setting was just going to be aesthetic gimmickry or pasted-on nostalgia but I was very pleasantly surprised. It is definitely a nod towards a certain kind of film from the 70s (Hal Ashby comes immediately to mind) but it's also an authentic part of the story being told. I think all of the performances are solid and I couldn't be happier to see Da'Vine Joy Randolph getting some award nominations. I'm sure part of this was just due to my recent visit but I totally nerded out in Rick Dalton meme fashion when they visit Brattle Book Shop in Boston. 

 The Boy and the Heron (2023) - Every bit as visually arresting as I thought it would be. Stunning images and ideas - some of them disturbing, some of them silly, and some of them reflective. Heron (more appropriately titled How to Live originally) touches on most of Miyazaki's visual motifs - nature, grotesquerie, transport, work, labyrinthine interior spaces, etc. - and appears to have direct references to his previous films. I was surprised how often I could see reflections of the Castle of Cagliostro in this, but I've been perhaps over-invested in that film since the early 90s. Thematically, I felt things getting a little muddled. I wasn't connecting particularly well to the emotional thrust of the film and often wasn't that invested in its characters. Of course the mere existence of a new Miyazaki film in 2023 is reason to celebrate but I don't know that this is one that will become as dear to me as his previous efforts. 

Found Footage Festival Vol. 10 (2023) - I've enjoyed the Found Footage Festival for years now but had not managed to make it out to a live show before. I can't imagine missing one now. I haven't laughed so hard during anything in recent memory and was amazed when they showed a bunch of clips from my home town's public access channel! I was invited by friends and did not realize that Strange Tapes was opening the show. Not only did Scott show some hilarious stuff but I believe Strange Tapes is where I first discovered Hamburger Dad which is the kind of debt I'll never be able to repay.

Poor Things (2023) - The latest phantasmagoria from Yorgos Lanthimos is definitely in line with his previous work. It's by turns grotesque, hilarious, and filled with excellent (if highly affected) performances. I also found it to be perhaps his slightest piece yet. The Favourite was similarly bombastic but even that had something more to chew on - the self actualization tale being told in Poor Things doesn't feel particularly provocative or revelatory. Looking in to the source novel, it seems that Yorgos and McNamara excised a significant element that would have possibly convoluted their film a step too far but also appears to (I haven't read it so I'm hypothesizing) add some complexity and focus to the thornier issues that the film breezes by. In no way would I discourage you from seeing Poor Things and I'm always willing to allow cinematic stylists exist as just that. I always like to consider the films that captured my imagination as a younger viewer that are less that perfectly realized in hindsight. Poor Things could very easily be that influential piece of fantastique for someone else, I just wish it was as rich in ideas as it is in aesthetics.

Ferrari (2023) - I hate to end the year on a sour note, but I found Ferrari to be incredibly dull. Fine performances I suppose but I failed to give a shit about anything that was happening. People seem to like it so it might just be me but I was struggling to stay conscious during Mann's latest and that's definitely disappointing. Maybe Heat 2 should remain a novel.

That's a wrap on 2023, thanks so much for reading and I'd always love to hear your thoughts on any of these you've watched. Happy New Year!

Crimes de Noël - Four French Crime Films for Christmas

 Alternative Christmas movie watchlists have been going strong for years now and there's no shortage of resources to turn towards if you're looking for action, horror, thriller, or noir films with at least a tinge of holiday spirit. While I'm not the world's largest holiday movie enthusiast, I did think it would be fun to offer a list that I think you're only likely to find on this blog: French Christmas Crime Films! The degree of holiday trappings varies amongst these four films but they all take place firmly within the season so it's more than just a nod towards Christmas during a narrative that covers years of a character's life. However you celebrate (or don't) during the winter months, why not plunk down and enjoy some murder, existential angst, and the dark heart of the holidays.

Un Flic (1972) - If you are somehow unfamiliar with the work of Jean-Pierre Melville, I don't know that I'd recommend starting with his final film. However, if you have seen his other Delon films and either haven't seen Flic or haven't seen it in many years - this could be a great chance to catch up to it. Opening with a dreary seaside robbery and proceeding through a grim, wintry Paris - Flic presents a blue/grey modernist pallor that stands in stark contrast to the normally vibrant holiday colors. It's an incredibly stylish and stylized effort from Melville and one that's attracted admiration and dismissal in equal measure. Though Melville's use of rear projection, painted backdrops, and anachronistic details doesn't bother most viewers, his very obvious use of scale models during an otherwise tense railway heist sequence appears to be a step too far for many. For my own part, I can't fully subscribe to Melville's apologists for this artifice and yet it also doesn't prevent me from enjoying the film immensely. Flic is still a marvelous immersion into Melville's themes and symbols and I think it's a fascinating piece of hardboiled fiction even if it doesn't rise to the level of his greatest work. Delon is at his icy best before he started to become a caricature of his own cinematic persona and Richard Crenna (most recognizable to modern audiences as Col. Trautman from the Rambo films) performs admirably as his foil. Flic also stars Catherine Deneuve in a supporting role, but one that's uncharacteristically developed for female roles in Melville's filmography. There isn't an abundance of Christmas references in the film, but it is present particularly in Delon's many long drives through the city.

Who Killed Santa Claus? (1941) - Who Killed Santa Claus spends its first 45 minutes detailing the characters and intrigue inhabiting the French mountain town in which it is set: the local schoolmaster (an avowed atheist) is in love with the daughter of the local globe maker who also plays the role of Father Christmas for the town children every year. The globe maker's daughter lives in a world of her own fantasies and faerie stories, largely indifferent towards the schoolmaster's advances. There's a widow who wanders the town searching for her long lost cat. The local nobleman has returned from a years-long global journey during which he might have contracted leprosy? Most ominously, there's an shadowy figure roaming the streets at night who may be looking to steal the priceless jewel that hangs on the church nativity scene. Finally, there are the town children including one depressed little boy who has a bad leg and needs some Christmas cheer. It's a scenario heaving underneath the weight of its plot  and things only get stickier when theft and murder enter the picture. Honestly, the film doesn't resolve in a particularly satisfying way but it still has tremendous atmosphere - all the Christmas decorations, the Father Christmas scenes, the wintry mountain town. It's ethereal and has moments both fantastic and haunting. The movie is stolen (for me) by Marie-Hélène Dasté as La mère Michel wandering the streets in a veil, looking for her lost cat Mistou, and offering dire proclamations: "Everyone, everyday, loses a small piece of life." 

Farewell, Friend (1968) - Another Alain Delon film pitting him against an American actor, in this case none other than Charles Bronson. It's the story of two French Legionnaires, Delon and Bronson, returning to Marseilles after a deployment in Algeria. As part of an awkward scheme to return some bearer bonds to a financial institution before they're discovered to be missing, Delon plots to break in and crack their safe over Christmas weekend. Bronson insinuates himself into the job after overhearing millions could be held there and the two manage to get themselves locked into the vault room with no food or water. While they are initially at complete odds with each other, they ultimately join forces to escape and realize there's more to the heist than they imagined. Farewell, Friend has a somewhat bizarre structure that subverts many expectations one might have for a heist film but it's still such a visually rich thriller that focuses more on bonds of friendship and an honor code instantly recognizable to fans of Melville, Woo, or Mann. The film truly leans into the physicality of both actors and Bronson's rough playfulness counters Delon's reserve rather well. Of contextual interest to Bronson fans, Farewell, Friend was his first big European hit which set the then journeyman actor on the path to international stardom. Bronson would only ever play leading and co-leading roles for years to follow. 

Paris Pick-Up (1962) -  Pick-Up is a Parisian noir set during Christmas Eve and the events play out mostly over the same night running into Christmas Day. Robert Hossein plays a man returning home who encounters and pursues a beautiful married woman played by Lea Massari. They're both looking for someone to help alleviate their loneliness on Christmas but they both have dark secrets they'd rather not reveal to each other. They walk the empty streets, visit each other's respective empty apartments and navigate the pronounced sexual tension between them. The intrigue only increases following an unexpected death and the methodical reveal of those secrets. It's impossible to talk too much about the plot without spoiling it so it will have to suffice to say that Pick-Up is an elegant and melancholy dive into the darkness and isolation the holiday season means for so many people. It takes elements from American noir narrative conventions but also has strong elements of the "doomed lovers" of French poetic realism (Port of Shadows comes to mind). The film is bursting with holiday aesthetic from Parisian shopping sequences, Massari's decorated apartment, and even a midnight mass. I'm often taken by these 60s cool gallic interpretations of the genre and this was my favorite "discovery" of the list. I'd love to see Pick-Up in a collection of international or French noir films like we've seen from Kino Lorber and Radiance and it's certainly deserving of a wider audience.

Joyeux Noël!

Best New-to-Me: November 2023

 With the end of the year soon approaching and the holiday season fully upon us, I'm actually a little surprised at how many movies I've been watching. I've been getting out to the theater more often as well - in no small part because the onslaught of blockbusters seems to have slowed and the festival/prestige films are giving me a little more incentive to get out there. I'm not a big Thanksgiving movie person (though I did revisit the excellent House of Yes this year on the day) so I put together a list of my favorite Hangout Heists as a post meal suggestion for engaging genre films that have a laid back, character driven nature to them. Had I not talked about it there, Breaking In would have certainly made my list this month. I think Kino Lorber is having a sale right now so you should probably snag a copy. I should mention that after doing an October horror movie challenge, I don't intentionally attempt Noirvember even though I like the idea behind it. However, I naturally watch a ton of hardboiled, neo-noir, crime, and even some classic noir as a matter of habit so there will be some possible picks for those of you looking to put together a list for next year.

Gloria (1980) - John Cassavetes' pulp thriller featuring a fabulous Gena Rowlands. Rowlands as the titular Gloria takes guardianship of her neighbor's kid after the rest of his family is wiped out by mobsters. She spends the duration of the film either in hiding, on the run, or confronting mafia goons. Definitely a must see for Rowlands fans and for those of us who can't get enough of "fun city" era NYC. What surprised me most was the sheer body count of Gloria, Rowlands kills the ever-loving shit out of so many mobsters in this!

They All Laughed (1981) - I've been wanting to catch this Bogdanovich screwball for ages but it hasn't been particularly accessible. They All Laughed is probably more famous (or notorious) now for being Dorothy Stratten's final film appearance before her murder and how Bogdanovich put himself into dire financial straits when he determined to distribute it himself. I found it incredibly charming - it's genuinely funny, the cast is outstanding, and it's crammed with gorgeous NYC photography courtesy of Robby Müller.  It's also necessarily bittersweet - the way it mirrors Stratten's tragic biography, the loss of so many of its principals too young, and the loss of urban vibrancy all over the US. Bogdanovich's inclusion of Sinatra music makes sense and is probably expected (Sinatra famously offered the use of his music at no cost following Stratten's death) but in a move both strange and inspired - much of the film is centered around Colleen Camp as a country musician. I think she's terrific and apparently there was a brief period of time where country was on the ascent in Manhattan. I actually stumbled across an NYT article chronicling the rise of country music venues in the early 80s.

French Connection II (1975) - I think it's my adoration for the preceding film that has kept me away form the Frankenheimer helmed sequel for so long. It's a shame because it's a terrific international crime thriller that could largely be its own entity were it not for Hackman's magnetism as Popeye Doyle. The action set pieces are immaculate and Marseilles comes alive as a setting in a different but equally compelling way as NYC in the first film. Bernard Fresson is terrific and demonstrates his ability to hold his own with Hackman just as he has with Bronson, Delon, Montand, etc. The first FC was one of the films that helped usher in a tidal wave of antihero cop movies (which I also enjoy) but I appreciate both Friedkin's and Frankenheimer's refusal to lionize Doyle as the guy willing to bend the rules for justice. The system is corrupt, money talks in the highest chambers of power, but even an "honest" cop is still thrashing around in the dark with mixed results.

Pretty Baby (1978) - Another film perhaps more notorious than famous and certainly one that's divisive in its reviews. There's no easy way to discuss a film that deals so frankly with sex work involving children and to be perfectly honest, I'm not sure that making a definitive statement on the subject was what Polly Platt and Louis Malle were looking to do here. I think they do deliver a complex portrait of a real time and place in American history that includes both the harsh realities and the hopeful moments people depend on for survival even in dark circumstances. Nobody gets off the hook but it's not a screed, either. The production design (no doubt influenced by Platt) is exquisite and the photography is immaculate. All of the performances are good to excellent but Brooke Shields is really quite amazing. She's both written and spoken a lot about the film and that commentary is worth seeking out for additional context regarding a challenging piece of art.

The Inquisitor (1981) - Taught, pressure-cooker, cat and mouse interrogation film that I assumed was based on a play due to it's nearly single room setting. Turns out it's based on a novel by the prolific crime writer, John Wainwright. Inquisitor manages to be surprisingly cinematic despite it's verbal focus and features both an excellent performance from the patron saint of this blog, Lino Ventura, as well as Michel Serrault. Interestingly (to me anyway), this came out the same year as Possession and both films were shot by Bruno Nuytten who seems to have a certain facility for capturing dialogue heavy sequences in interesting ways. I definitely need to catch more Claude Miller movies and probably hunt down some John Wainwright books as well.

Fear Over the City (1975) - Another longtime watchlist denizen for me, so I was thrilled to finally track down a copy. Totally gonzo action thriller from Henri Verneuil whose usual visual coolness gets the hell out of the way of full throttle Belmondo ferocity. An early car chase could be right out of peak poliziotteschi territory and Belmondo's stunts and antics only build from there. While he doesn't possess the grace or gravity defying nature of someone like Jackie Chan, there's an enjoyable grittiness to Belmondo's work here. Rooftop scrambles, subway car surfing, and helicopter rappelling all against a propulsive story of a crazed killer who delights in messing with the cops. This absolutely needs a physical media release ASAP.

The Burglars (1971) -  Another Verneuil/Belmondo collaboration (also scored by Morricone for that matter), this is the kind of charming, international thriller I associate with Verneuil's strengths as a director. There's a tremendous heist scene that helps put the story in motion but the majority of the film is dedicated to either chase sequences or verbal jousting between Belmondo's rakish rogue and Omar Sharif's corrupt inspector. Belmondo is definitely flexing leading man charisma and also has a series of fantastic stunt sequences. Sharif is compelling in his own right though he does give his character a real sadistic edge. The plot runs out of steam in the final act and Nicole Calfan is fairly lackluster here (particularly compared to Dyan Cannon as a street smart pinup model) even though I admire her other work. The shruggable finale keeps La Casse/The Burglars from reaching that top tier of jet-setting caper films but the gorgeous photography (Claude Renoir shooting largely on location in Athens), killer action, and swinging style is more than enough for me to enjoy.

The Death of Richie (1977) - I picked up Fun City Editions' second volume of made-for-television films, Primetime Panic 2, and watched them all mostly over my Thanksgiving holiday. From what I can tell, the Valerie Bertinelli gambling picture - The Seduction of Gina - is the favorite in the set among people I follow on social media. I totally get that, but I have to say I was more won over by Paul Wendkos' tale of adolescent drug use and crumbling family dynamics. A big part of that is the cast: Ben Gazzara, Eileen Brennan, and Robby Benson in the title role are all so incredibly watchable. Even as the messaging gets somewhat muddled, I was totally engaged with these characters and invested in their story. The transfer from original 16mm elements is a little rough around the edges but that almost adds to the charm and it's a visually interesting film as well (at least partially thanks to Willard  and Night Strangler cinematographer Roger B. Hauser) You'd think the title is a total spoiler but I honestly picked my jaw up off the floor in the finale. I've really come around on classic made-for-tv movies this year and Richie is certainly a favorite.

He Died with His Eyes Open (1985) - A later Jacques Deray crime thriller based on the first of a genuinely weird sounding series of novels by Derek Raymond (occasionally credited as the father of British noir). Eyes Open is not Deray's best film and it sometimes feels like a particularly well made Masterpiece Theater or BBC feature that would find its way to public television in the US. It does go considerably darker and the exquisite Rampling bares far more than any PBS fare might offer. One thing that Deray does so well and continues to do so here is allow the mystery to unfold more through the motivations of the characters than simply understanding the details of a murder. This features another good Michel Serrault performance and both he and Rampling are interesting and enigmatic and offer up enough personal intrigue to keep the viewer hooked. I feel like I'm definitely going to want to look into Raymond's novels further and coincidentally Andrew Nette recently wrote about the murky origins of British noir over on his substack.

Narc (2002) - I've given a lot of thought to comfort movies over the last year. What do you reach for when you're tired, emotionally drained, and just don't want to put in too much effort? For me, it's often 21st Century crime thrillers - particularly if they are modestly budgeted and referred to repeatedly as "gritty." Joe Carnahan's Narc is just such a film and was the perfect antidote after a long day at work. What was so particularly rewarding is that it's one of the best Ray Liotta performances I've ever seen and it was something he was clearly passionate about doing. It reminds me in some ways of Nick Nolte's revelatory turn in Q&A but Liotta retains a sensitivity that comes rather naturally to him. The opening sequence of Narc is absolutely savage and sets the stage for a genuinely mean, grimy cop story that does manage to salvage a shred of humanity towards the end.

The Butcher/Le Boucher (1970) - For one of Chabrol's more popular films, you'd think Le Boucher would be easier to come by. It's not streaming anywhere and I believe it has only had a dvd release in the US. It's a shame as it's an extremely taught, surprising thriller that subverts a lot of the familiar tropes in a classically Chabrol-ian way. It's centered around a burgeoning relationship between Stephane Audran as young schoolmaster who's heart was broken years ago and Jean Yanne as the town butcher and a veteran who was forever affected by the things he saw in wartime. A series of brutal murders begin occurring in the town and the mystery around the unfolds as the two characters get to know each other more intimately. Equally an exploration of PTSD as a murder mystery and while the basic plot beats seem rather obvious, there's a surprising degree of emotional complexity and motivation. This is an absolute must-see for Audran fans. 

Dog Day (1984) - Tonally bizarre neo-noir that I've been side stepping due to its mixed reviews. I found myself totally on board with this absolutely gonzo, nihilistic tale of a armored car job gone sideways. Lee Marvin is a professional thief, bank robber, and killer who finds refuge at a French farm while fleeing the authorities. Marvin's character would turn out to be significantly less cruel, amoral, and exploitative than the deranged residents he encounters on the farm. This garners multiple comparisons to Prime Cut which I can understand from its rural setting and that movie is possessed of some genuine strangeness, but Dog Day leans even further into the wild hicksploitation energy in ways that nearly remind me of  Sonny Boy even if this isn't quite as bonkers. It's definitely weird, definitely mean, and I think it might have some of the best final lines in cinema history. Lee Marvin was never afraid to take chances!

East End Hustle (1976) - Newly released on a gorgeous 4k disc by Canadian International Pictures, Hustle is reflective of the same Montreal art scene as The Rubber Gun (writer/director/actor Allan Moyle co-wrote and also acts in Hustle). While both films provide a similarly strong sense of place, Hustle is an earnest effort to produce a pulpy exploitation film. The story of a former prostitute now working to liberate her fellow sex workers from an abusive pimp offers a sufficiently gritty context and there's adequate sex and violence for a thrill seeking audience. However, in the actual presentation Hustle avoids many of the more obvious genre conventions and certainly has something to say regarding female empowerment, collaboration, and sexual power dynamics. This could have easily been a film where all the men are horrible and all the women are wounded but instead there are more interesting gradations involved - the protagonists have fulfilling relationships and while sexual violence is part of the story, the mutually satisfying expression of sex is portrayed as well. I am an absolute mark for this kind of gritty, regional filmmaking and I was totally taken with this (much as I was with CIP Gina). The disc looks amazing and I'm looking forward to digging deeper into the special features.

Theatrical Screenings!

Hi, Mom! (1970) - Screened by local heroes, The Cult Film Collective, on 35mm at the venerable Trylon Cinema. Hilarious, harrowing, chaotic, confounding, and definitely angry. De Palma threw everything he could as far as film formats, camera techniques, performance styles, and narrative structure into this one and it's an absolute riot of a picture. I can't stress how important it was for me to see this with an audience. The funny moments were huge but when things started to become uncomfortable, that feeling of anxiety flooded the entire theater. As this film is totally obsessed with film formats, it seems only appropriate to see it in 35mm as well.

Blood and Black Lace (1964) - I have a rule about going to Bava in the theater whenever it is reasonable to do so. Screened at the Emagine Willow Creek as part of the Cinema of the Macabre series, I don't know what else there is to say about Bava's proto-giallo masterpiece. It's iconic, it's influential, and the new restoration looks incredible. 

Killers of the Flower Moon (2023) - I know this was a long movie but I didn't feel that length for a second. Part of that was the incredibly comfortable accommodations at the Edina Theater but I was wholly engrossed for the duration. I still find it kind of incredible that this was the first film Scorsese and Jack Fisk have collaborated on - what a wonderful synthesis of vision that is. Two veteran filmmakers who have dedicated so much of their careers to faithfully recreating periods of (largely) American history. I'm so glad it finally happened.

Anatomy of a Fall (2023) - I honestly didn't know that much about Anatomy other than it won some accolades in the earlier festival season and that Sandra Hüller was supposed to be quite good in it. It is worthy of those accolades and Sandra is excellent. Largely a courtroom drama but one that occurs entirely in France so the procedural aspects are perhaps fresher to me. There's much to examine here on the nature of truth and the slow erosion of trust, but mostly I was just in the grip of the narrative. Technically really impressive with how the camera uses both documentary style set ups and these roving tracking shots. 

May December (2023) - Todd Haynes latest domestic melodrama with a hint of crime is another one I tried to approach without much previous knowledge. It's much funnier than I anticipated but that doesn't keep it from being totally disturbing - that might even make it more so. There's an arch-ness to it, the performances are mostly big and the repeated Michel Legrande musical stabs definitely lend a touch of drama, but it's handled with a seriousness that balances everything remarkably. If you're looking for dark, prestige entertainment for adults with something on its mind, this will give you plenty to chew on. It almost makes me wish I subscribed to Netflix so I could watch it again easily. 

Lowering the Stakes: Hangout Heists

 Over the Thanksgiving holiday here in the US, there's often some conversation among film nerds about what to watch. There are a few holiday staples like Planes, Trains and Automobiles or Blood Rage but the turkey day cinematic offerings just aren't nearly as rich as Halloween or Christmas or even Independence Day. This has led to lists of "feast" themed movies or cannibal films and some brave souls even delve into the cavernous depths of Hallmark movies to fill the hours over a long weekend. I would like to propose an alternative that has little or nothing to do with the holiday itself (which has dubious origins at best) but offers an enjoyably comfortable milieu to slip into during the break: The Hangout Heist. I love a good heist movie and I believe the best of genre feature impressively skilled professionals applying their trade at the highest level in immaculately detailed set pieces - the mechanics are fascinating, the tension is white knuckle, the twists are breathtaking. These are not those movies. This is a list of movies that retain some elements of true heist movies but rely far more on relationship dynamics, the innate charisma of the performers, and the overall atmosphere. After a day of cooking or consuming your bodyweight in gravy, with sodium and alcohol coursing through your veins, these movies take the suspense down a few notches while still offering appealing characters and interesting situations to invest in. Even if you don't watch any of these over the holiday, they're worth keeping in your back pocket for any occasion that requires low-key yet compelling fare - hangovers, Sunday afternoons, sick days - the Hangout Heist might be just the trick.

Breaking In (1989) - In many ways this is the film that inspired my list in the first place. Burt Reynolds plays an older professional thief who takes on a young apprentice played by Casey Siemaszko. Taking place in Portland, the two rob grocery stores and bowling alleys but more importantly develop a kind of father/son relationship that resolves in unexpected ways. It's got a shagginess that I appreciate and the performers are endearing - unsurprisingly it's directed by Bill Forsyth (and penned by John Sayles!) who is exactly the right person to handle this material. It's bittersweet, it's funny, and it's become one of my favorite Reynolds performances. 

Going in Style (1979) - Not the 2017 remake, but the original Martin Brest helmed film featuring George Burns, Lee Strasberg, and blog favorite Art Carney. The tale of three septuagenarians drifting through their golden years with little to do and not much to show for it until they decide to rob a bank. I truly believed this would be a much sillier film when I first saw it years ago and I was shocked by how earnest and melancholy it turned out to be. There are certainly laughs but the robbery piece wraps up relatively early in the film and it becomes this heartfelt exploration of aging and mortality. The leads are all excellent and the film is filled with some beautifully quiet moments that counterbalance the gags. Art Carney singing "New York Ain't New York Anymore" while washing dishes has always stuck with me.

A Man, a Woman and a Bank (1979) - I have long thought that I've been overrating this rom-com/heist mash up but having recently revisited it, I still find it totally worthwhile. Donald Sutherland and Paul Mazursky play two overlooked and underappreciated computer experts who hatch a plan to use their hacking skills to rob a bank that's currently under construction. Things become complicated when a photographer played by Brooke Adams takes Sutherland's photo as part of a marketing campaign for the new bank. Sutherland pursues Adams and the two begin a romance though Sutherland is keeping his criminal plans a secret from her. It's a funny movie without being hilarious, the drama never feels urgent, and the suspense doesn't reach too high of a pitch - and yet it totally comes together for me. I love the location work - mostly in Vancouver but also in Macao - Adams and Sutherland are slightly aloof but in a believable way as two somewhat guarded people who are genuinely falling for each other. It's definitely a movie I think should be in front of more eyeballs.

How to Steal a Million (1966) - If the above suggestions are too sad-sack for you, then Million should address anyone's desire for effervescent 60s charm. Featuring the absolute powerhouse charismatic duo of Audrey Hepburn and Peter O'Toole set against a backdrop of a mod fantasia Paris, there is a significant heist sequence but this is largely about the two of them being delightful as they attempt to rob an art museum. Hepburn is very much the "good" girl but William Wyler isn't afraid to let her be sexy too. O'Toole is absurdly disarming and it is notable that he was several years Hepburn's junior which is a nice counterpoint to her being romanced by the likes of Fred Astaire or Humphrey Bogart. Hugh Griffith (who I generally love in everything) has a great supporting role as Hepburn's art forger father and Eli Wallach is solid as a pushy American millionaire. At just over two hours, the length might be pushing it but Million offers such a feast for the eyes it's hard to complain.

Thieves Like Us (1974) - Robert Altman's naturalistic evocation of 30s America subverts expectations to such a degree that it might be considered an anti-heist movie. The criminal activity happens almost entirely offscreen in favor of automobile trips, dinner table conversations, and predominantly a tender and heartbreaking romance between two of Altman's favorite actors - Keith Carradine and Shelly Duval. I actually rankled seeing this one for the first time as I was so looking forward to an Altman helmed bank robbing film and instead got extended, quiet sequences of Duval and Carradine sitting on the porch or lying in bed. Having re-appraised it, I find these moments beautifully rendered and Carradine's and Duval's performances are profoundly touching. There's a lot of technical craft on display that isn't overt, but Altman's use of real Mississippi locations, period radio recordings, and non-actor extras builds this believable world of the Depression era Southern US. In many ways, this is the most challenging film on the list but I think if you know what you're getting into, you'll find a lot to appreciate here.

Best New-to-Me: October 2023

 My favorite month and favorite season has come and gone and now I'm beginning to better understand the people I know who start transitioning into October mode somewhere in mid-August. There's so much to do and so much to see that you can literally run out of time to experience as much as you'd like. We didn't decorate as much as we have in years previous, jack-o-lantern carving got left by the wayside, and my October-themed hot sauce production has been nudged into November. Still, we traveled to Salem this year and that packs an awful lot of Halloween into a couple of days. I was also able to attend a mini-marathon/spook show which I wrote about here. I've been trying to fit at least 31 horror movies into October for years now and sometimes follow along with prompts from "official" challenges and more often follow my own whims. Regardless of how I pick my movies, I have been participating in Unsung Horrors "Horror Gives Back" charity effort for a few years now where you collectively donate money with other horror fans based on the number of movies you watch. They raised over $2400 (even more with some employer matching) for Best Friends Animal Society this year and I can't encourage you enough to join in next year. I spent a lot of time in their Discord channel talking horror movie selections and had a blast.

I got an early start this year because I knew I would be busy and it was still one of my shorter lists. You can view the entire thing here and, per usual, I'll review the ones that really stuck with me below:

Massacre at Central High (1976) - I'm sad to say that Central High was another film I avoided for far too long under the assumption that it was just another dumb slasher movie. I was able to see the trailer in front of a different repertory screening and thought I needed to add it to my watch list immediately. In reality, it's a revenge/exploitation film with an engaging take on power dynamics and corruption. The melodrama is at times incomprehensible, there is abundant nudity, and the offing of high schoolers is positively ruthless. I imagine it absolutely destroys with the right audience and might make a good double feature with Rolling Thunder. Not much of a horror movie but one I'm glad to have made time for. 

Devil Story (1986) - I didn't follow any specific guidelines this year (no official prompts and no rules like everything had to be a first time watch), but was intentional about adding some French films into the mix. That can be a little weird as France doesn't have the strongest horror movie tradition but it's all worth it if you land in the arms of Devil Story. Sometimes a film holds your attention because of its compelling plot or genuine emotional core, Devil Story had me totally entranced because I literally could not predict what would happen from moment to moment. It's braindead low budget insanity at its least coherent and I was there for it. The idea that someone was able to convince people that this needed to be shot on film, that stunts had to be performed, or that any of this needed to happen at all is a testament to the creative force in us all. This one is highly polarizing so consider yourself warned.

The Ghost of the Hunchback (1965) - This came to me via a recommendation from Samm Deighan (you should sign up for her patreon if you like awesome curated lists of films among other wonders) and despite being a Japanese production, felt very much akin to the Italian gothics. From the director of Goke, Body Snatcher from Hell, Hunchback is a kind of haunted house movie crammed with dark family secrets, madness, and pure October moodiness. There are copies floating around online but I think I'll have to add the Mondo Macabro disc to the collection.

Don't Deliver Us from Evil (1971) -  All I knew about this was that it was initially banned in France and that it was the other film based on the Parker-Hulme murder case (Heavenly Creatures being the more famous of the two). None of that could prepare me for the kind of ferocity Writer/director Joël Séria would bring to bear. It should be said that this film is loosely inspired by Parker-Hulme and not in any way a recreation of those events. It is a bold condemnation of the church but it also leans all the way into exploitation territory in sequences erotic, cruel, and genuinely mean. I think Séria manages to pull it off with enough artistry to carry the viewer through the depravity and the final act left me with my mouth on the floor. Easily one of my favorites of the month.

Living Skeleton (1968) - Part crime story, part modern gothic, all impeccable October vibes. There's some bats-on-strings 60s goofiness involved but that only added to the coastal haunted house aesthetic for me. Multiple dummy drops, too.

A Virgin Among the Living Dead (1973) - I was patching up some Jess Franco holes in my personal filmography and this was likely my favorite of those. Psyched out, surrealist jams from Uncle Jess. A young, affluent woman returns to her family estate following the death of her father only to discover her remaining family are also ghosts or zombies or draculas or something. Nudity, occult strangeness, Howard Vernon, and poignant evocations of grief follow. Plot takes a hike. It's worth noting that there's a lovely copy on the Internet Archive and if you want to read a real analysis of the film, here's a terrific article Gentry posted recently: https://mimsyfarmerfanclub.com/2023/10/23/a-virgin-among-the-living-dead/

Mad Mutilator/Ogroff/Ogroff the Mad Mutilator (1983) - Holy Balls. 97 minutes of nearly dialogue free, super-8 murderdrone perfection that's clearly not meant for consumption by normal people. In many ways the spiritual sibling to Devil Story, but somehow crazier and more strictly entertaining. I found this legitimately enjoyable but also can't help but just be thrilled that these oddballs were able to commit their singularly insane vision to film and now it exists in the world for the rest of us. However, you may not wish to watch this unless you're under the influence of paint fumes or a recent brain injury. Proceed with caution.

The Monster of the Opera (1964) - I like to try in fit in at least of few Italian gothics every year and Polselli's Monster was definitely notable. However many dance numbers you think this movie should have, there are in fact more. The opening nightmare sequence is absolutely wild and because the movie is set in an old theater there is this cool blending of stage-y, theatrical horror imagery and actual horror. You're never sure exactly which one you're seeing. Things do get fairly muddled at points but the sheer horniness of the film and a solid finale carry the day.

Night of the Devils (1972) - I absolutely adore Ferroni's Mill of the Stone Women and had high hopes for what could possibly be an even more unhinged vision from him. Devils starts strong with an impeccable opening salvo of disjointed nightmare imagery but settles into a slow burn of a satisfying if unsurprising folk tale terror. There are still some great visuals and I loved the music but I probably would have preferred something more overtly gothic or full-on exploitation indulgence. Totally worthwhile even if it never reaches Mill's heights.

Asylum (1972) - What's October without an anthology film? Asylum sits in rarified air where not only are the stories all pretty satisfying (Robert Bloch penned them), but the wraparound delivers as well. It's not overflowing with gruesome detail but it is finely acted (Peter Cushing, Herbert Lom, Charlotte Rampling, etc) and produced and really was the perfect thing to watch with a sampling of Halloween candy.

Theatrical Screenings!

Besides the Spook Show I mentioned earlier and the 16mm Horror Showcase I wrote about last month, I did manage to make it out to a couple of other things.

Messiah of Evil (1973) - I'm not sure what I can say about one of my all-time favorite horror movies that hasn't been said already. Part psychological terror, part zombie film, and part body horror with a Lovecraftian edge to it. Huyck and Katz manage to channel Romero at times, Antonioni in places, and through their vision and production insanity manage to deliver this wholly original slice of strangeness. I had been champing at the bit waiting for my new edition from Radiance films only to see that Tim programmed the restoration as part of his Cinema of the Macabre series. It was unreal to see it restored in all of its cinemascope glory on the big screen and especially to see what I consider the most iconic horror movie theater sequence in an actual theater. I did receive the Radiance edition about a week later and while I haven't rewatched the whole film, the special features and booklet are superb. That edition is sold out but they are taking order for a standard edition that will feature a lot of the same great stuff. I highly recommend seeing the restoration if you can and I would recommend watching any version you can find in the original aspect ratio. However, I implore you not to watch the random, terribly cropped versions that are all over streaming services. It's already such a weird movie and missing out on the cinematography as intended really hurts the experience.

Cemetery of Terror (1985) -  Another Cinema of the Macabre screening. I'm actually not a huge fan of Cemetery of Terror and not the biggest Ruben Galindo Jr. booster out there either, but sometimes you want to go out to a damn horror movie and maybe run into some friends. Those things totally happened! An audience did not significantly improve my impression of Cemetery but the last 20 minutes are still pretty fun and I was happy to chat with some people. Totally solid October activity.

Spirits Rise, Screams Fill the Theater, and a Dead Body Finds a New Home - The Super Spook Show Spectacular 2023

 Things have been a little quiet on the blog front but that's only due to things being anything but quiet on the life front. It's October which means I'm watching at least 31 horror movies (and contributing to Horror Gives Back), there are no shortage of seasonal spooky activities, and we decided to finally make the pilgrimage to Salem which is essentially the Halloween capital of the US and therefore the Halloween capital of the universe (we had an amazing time). Increasingly, October is also the season for horror movie marathons. There are some legendary ones like the Exhumed Films 24 Horror-Thon in Pennsylvania, The Music Box of Horrors in Chicago, and even our very own Trylon Cinema Horrorthon - now in its seventh year. I love the excitement that these events generate but I confess that the long/overnight nature of them has held me at arm's length for the most part. I'm a veteran of many a double or triple feature and my keister has proven itself up to twelve hours of movie marathon-ing, but I just can't deal with overnights. So I was thrilled to learn that Tim and Cinema of the Macabre were holding a shorter event with four secret films and assorted surprises, swag, and giveaways. 

I had the sense from CotM's social media posts that The Super Spook Show Spectacular was definitely leaning into the Midnight Ghost Show/Spook Show/Monster Show vibes for this event and that was evident as soon as I arrived at the theater. Some spooky decorations adorned the outside and inside and I was greeted by a friendly nurse and given a promotional vomit bag filled with fun stuff including a fright insurance certificate. It was not a sold out show but I bought tickets late enough that I had to park myself either in the first or second row. Luckily Emagine Willow Creek has fully reclinable seats (positively luxurious compared to some of the creaky theater seats I've endured for longer events) and I would be closer to the spook show action once things kicked off. There was already some fun, thematic stuff playing on the screen that I think was from one of the Something Weird discs, essentially advertising classic Ghost/Spook Show offerings like the monsters loosed on the audience or decapitation of the staff. Eventually Tim took the floor as the afternoon's Ghostmaster and we launched into the first movie. 

Tourist Trap (1979) - I had a fleeting moment of dread when I saw the Full Moon Productions logo flash on the screen but that gave way to audible enthusiasm from the crowd when we realized we were going back to an early Charles Band production. I adore Tourist Trap and it had been a few years since I'd last watched it. Chuck Conner's unhinged performance is what I always remember most about it but I was struck at both how unhurried the pacing is for such a bonkers movie and how fantastic Pino Donaggio's score really is. I don't tend to find psychic psychopaths terribly scary but the roadside wax museum (courtesy of Texas Chainsaw art director Robert. A. Burns) is such an intensely weird and creepy setting and director David Schmoeller allows for time to let the space and that creepiness permeate everything. In a clue that felt tailor made for me, internet nightmare fuel Tara the Android made a brief cameo appearance in the pre-show and I referenced her specifically in my Tourist Trap Letterboxd review from a few years back.

The Black Cat (1989) - I new exactly what we were in for when Tim mentioned that this film would be more nonsensical than the first and it was ostensibly based on a work by Edgar Allen Poe. Speaking of the American master of the macabre, he was invoked and joined us for a moment to address the fidelity of Luigi Cozzi's adaptation. This was my favorite bit from the event and I could listen to Poe expound on the virtues of Taylor Swift all night. Cozzi's Black Cat is a piece of dream programming for me. It may be the apex of 80s Italian nonsense filmmaking and 80s Italian nonsense sequel-ization. It is somehow a spiritual sequel to Suspiria/Inferno, an actual entry into the legendarily convoluted Demons series, as well as (not really) interpreting Edgar Allen Poe's The Black Cat. It offers a phantasmagoric mess of primary colors, slimes, exploding torsos, lasers, Bang Tango jams, and a few nice shots of cats. A friend of mine in attendance had actually seen Bang Tango perform and we were all terribly jealous.

Spider Baby (1967) - Have I seen Spider Baby many times before? Yes. Have I seen Spider Baby in a theater in October before? Also yes. Does this in any way diminish my appreciation for it? Hell no. It's just too damn good. The opening song is amazing, Lon Chaney Jr. is so wonderful and gives this genuinely humane performance, and the kids - played by baby Sid Haig, Beverly Washburn, and Jill Banner are both incredibly fun and tragic. Also, Jack Hill can shoot the hell out of a movie with very little budget to work with. This was a perfect choice for the spook show vibe and also led to a bit where mad descendants of the Merrye family ransacked the theater in the dark. Great stuff.

 

Slumber Party Massacre II (1987) - The final entry opened with some audience participation as an impromptu screaming contest was held. I get very nervous in front of crowds and am not much of a screamer so I very much commend the brave souls who went for it (and they got cool stuff!). The final film of the day was one I had never seen before which made me happy. I went in completely blind and Slumber Party Massacre II not only had me questioning my own sanity but also my recollection of Slumber Party Massacre which I watched both on late night cable and revisited some years back. I don't love it when a sequel plays the greatest hits from the previous entry to set up the action, but SPMII makes the baller decision to play back events before the movie that definitely did not happen in the first entry. Instead of a more pedestrian maniac killer with a drill, SPMII introduces a quasi-Krueger rockabilly maniac with a drill guitar who appears seemingly at will and terrorizes a new group of kids. There are some excellent physical gore effects, an abundance of 80s meets 50s rock n' roll numbers, conspicuous product placement, and no rules that I could comprehend to any of it. I probably never would have picked a movie like this to watch on my own and that's the joy (and occasionally suffering) of these secret screenings.

Everything wrapped up with a raffle and some seriously cool stuff was given away. The number adjacent to mine was called and I experienced momentary heartbreak, but I was also really stoked for the winners. As advertised, someone did leave with a dead body. I'll keep some mystery around the details but know that The Super Spook Show Spectacular delivers on its promises. I thought this was a terrific event. It ran smoothly, the programming was excellent, and the crowd was into it. Huge thanks to everyone who helped put this together. The Emagine theater is very comfortable and you got TEN glorious minutes between each film so there was considerably less panic to hit the bathroom, get a drink, say hi to people, grab a smoke, etc. I very much appreciate the horror movie events that focus on all-film formats or extra-spooky venues, but this event was truly highlighting fun and it showed. I do not know if this will happen next year, but I will prioritize attending if it does and would absolutely encourage you to do the same. I always tell people how ridiculous the cinema scene is in the Twin Cities compared to the size of the metro and I hope we just added a new tradition we can look forward to.

Best New-to-Me: September 2023

 I'm running a little late this month and I think that speaks to the fact that it's October and we're fully into spooky season festivities. It's a time of year I absolutely love where the weather becomes bearable again, my schedule becomes increasingly crowded with fun activities, and everyday tasks like walking around my neighborhood or going to the store are enlivened by Halloween-y stuff. Still, I'm here to talk about September which (besides being unseasonably warm) still involved a lot of bike rides, local festivals, and some damn fine movies. I've had a bit of a 90s fixation this year and definitely indulged that in some of my picks for the month. I also wrote some fairly extensive reviews for Neige and La Garce which I encourage you to check out if you haven't already. I also noticed a significant uptick in traffic on the blog - some of which can be attributed to referral bots of some sort but some of which seems legitimate. I probably don't say it enough, but thanks so much for taking the time to read this. 

Q & A (1990) - This is definitely one of those films that I'm surprised I didn't catch as a younger person. I have to imagine if Christopher Walken or Harvey Keitel had managed their way into the already excellent ensemble cast, Q & A would have joined the ranks of the myriad crime dramas that tended to come home with me from the local video store every week. At the same time, I've been known to trawl the new releases for anything resembling hard boiled genre cinema so what a gift to discover something this good in 2023. Nick Nolte delivers a positively electric performance as a swaggering, snarling, intensely physical corrupt cop who will seemingly stop at nothing to cover his tracks and maintain his grift. This bears all the hallmarks you might expect from a Lumet crime epic - racism, homophobia, corruption, brutality, and a universal pessimism about "the system" Timothy Hutton's white hat D.A. might be oversimplified but I appreciated the more diverse characterizations of both police and criminals reflected admirably by Luis Guzman, Armand Assante, and maybe especially Charles S. Dutton. I think the length possibly deterred me from checking this out earlier but I was glad to get the nudge from the Pure Cinema Podcast.

Trust (1990) - I wound up watching seven Hal Hartley movies during September. Some re-watches but mostly new-to-me. I knew Hartley was a big deal in American Indie Film by the time I was 18-19 but his films never showed in my smaller hometown. I was working in an art house theater when Henry Fool was released but I had largely missed Hartley's ascendency and never really pursued his back catalogue too assiduously. I've actually been meaning to go through his filmography for some time now, but a lot of his earlier films seemed to have scant availability online and (while I'm sure they're worthwhile) he sells physical releases of them on his own website for steep prices. All this is to say I jumped immediately back on Criterion when I saw that they would be streaming most of his films. I'm happy to say that I thoroughly enjoyed most of what I watched and couldn't help but admire the rest of it. I picked Trust out of everything to highlight here because I thought it was both an insanely good distillation of Hartley's style and I think it captures the spirit of the 90s indie wave in ways that the movies people often associate with that period do not. Hartley's casts from this period are fantastic and both Adrienne Shelly and Martin Donovan are incredible as moody, complicated outcasts who find some solace in each other. This kind of oddball romance was probably only second to the oddball crime story for narrative frameworks of the time, but it never feels cliche to me in Hartley's hands. The dialogue is arch but marvelous, the melancholy score harmonizes the mood beautifully, and while the majority of the film comprises of scenes of people talking - there are moments of pronounced surrealism that are genuinely striking. I love that Hartley threw this together as quickly and cheaply as possible following his early breakout success mostly because he wanted to work with Shelley again. That's the kind of gritty, passionate, collaborative work that I like to remember about film during that decade.

Henry Fool (1997) - So this is a cheat, but I hope you'll bear with me. As I mentioned earlier, I did see Henry Fool upon its release. I recall liking it if not being totally taken with it and my friends/co-workers with more Hartley exposure didn't think it was his strongest work. Now, having gone and watched/re-watched his films leading up to Henry Fool, it resonated much more strongly with me. It was easily his most ambitious work at that point and it builds on so many of the themes and moods from his shorter films - working class outsiders, generational violence, crime, and (naturally) punishment. It's also an incredibly evocative statement on the transformational nature of art and everyone who suffers for it. The prescience around politics and technology seems shocking now but it felt timely then - I think Hartley did have incredible cultural insight but I think it also illustrates how our problems can be cyclical. I definitely will make an effort to watch the films of Hartley's I've missed that follow Henry Fool but this truly did feel like the end of a chapter and capped off my viewing rather nicely.

Chan is Missing (1982) - For some reason I've been dragging my feet getting around to this and now having seen it I can't understand why. It's a wonderful take on the very American detective pulp story but bursting with both a tangible sense of place and one of community. I confess a certain weakness for this brand of no-budget 80s indie film as well. I am rarely put off by non-actors or amateur actors and pretty much everyone in this is a charmer, Wood Moy who plays the main taxi driver turned gumshoe was a legit actor and even a playwright and his performance is just the right level of polished to help anchor the piece.

TOTALLY F***ED UP (1993) - I very much recall watching Gregg Araki's The Doom Generation when it came out on video and much like his preferred brand of industrial rock music - it was art I could appreciate without being terribly moved by it. I have to say that I found F***ED UP (I think I prefer the title with asterixis) to be more my speed.  I was happy to trade in some campiness and gore for some genuinely heartfelt representation of queer kids in California. The John Waters influence is never hard to see in Araki's movies but I also wonder if he was ever exposed to James Robert Baker's positively ferocious Blonde Death.

Hot Pepper (1973)  - I love Les Blanks' wider examinations of disappearing Creole and Cajun culture in the rural south but I found it especially easy to enjoy this more focused look at Zydeco musician Clifton Chenier and the music scene he sprung out of. As much as I'm a fan of roots music and Americana, there's an awful lot of wholesale animal slaughter in other films like Spend it All. Some of that remains in Hot Pepper, but it's a lot more juke joints, jam sessions, and some absolutely smoking concert footage. 

Céline and Julie Go Boating (1974) - Diving into Juliet Berto's Neige earlier in the month inspired me to finally tackle this conspicuous absence in my personal filmography. Again, this is one that I've largely avoided due to length and ultimately hoped I could catch it theatrically at some point. In fairness, it didn't pull me in the way it does so many others. At least not right away. I could immediately engage with the charm and presence of Berto and Dominique Labourier, I was particularly taken with their respective "stage" scenes, but my attention did wander a bit. Like with many things, I got more out of it once I put more into it. There is a wealth of great writing about Céline and Julie and it's place in Rivette's work. I really would like to watch it again some day but I think a cinema setting is the way to do it.

Night Games (1966) - This seems to be a fairly polarizing one and I suppose I can see why, but I found myself entranced by Night Games. Perhaps I'm misreading the text, but the dour performances combined with the surreal situations gave off an element of camp to me instead of humorlessness. Zetterling is tackling childhood trauma and being intentionally provocative about it and maybe she's not saying anything profound enough to justify that, but I didn't have an issue with it. Aesthetically, it's impeccable and I am sometimes overly enamored with stylists who appeal to my sensibilities. Perhaps my recent dalliances with Blier have blunted my sensitivity!

American Dream (1990) - An absolutely heartbreaking portrait of how labor is exploited in this country and how any societal gains made in the mid-Century were so thoroughly dismantled by the 1980s. I drove past Austin, MN (the location of this Hormel strike in 85-86) not long ago and was sorely tempted to stop through and take a look around. This was another Brian Sauer recommendation from the Pure Cinema Podcast and I did not expect it to feel so appropriate in the current news cycle. 

Theatrical Screenings!

The Plumber (1979) - Such a delightfully weird and smart take on what could have been delivered more obviously and far less interestingly (I'm looking at you, Pacific Heights). Manages to combine class conflict and gender dynamics with a distinct 60s hangover - Max's inscrutable plumber bears the the trappings of a real progressive but hasn't internalized any of it. Jill's own liberal leanings compel her to seek solidarity with a tradesman, but ultimately she leans into her privilege and class allegiance as the situation becomes more fraught. There's real tension and mystery throughout The Plumber, but it's also genuinely funny in surprising ways. The whole dinner/bathroom scene with the doctors was so great. Glad to have finally caught up to this and it screened really well at the theater for a made-for-tv film.

Phenomena (1985) - Back when I worked at a local pizzeria, I would frequently play Phenomena's blistering soundtrack of Claudio Simonetti, Iron Maiden, and Motorhead jams. My co-workers would naturally ask me about the film and when I attempted to explain the plot details I got a lot of blank stares. For such a positively bonkers combination of sleepwalking, insect mind-control, suicidal winds, murderous tykes, and razorblade wielding chimpanzees, Phenomena felt like a surprisingly slow burn with an audience. The last 15 minutes opens the throttle all the fucking way up though. so glad to have finally caught this on a big screen.

Deathdream (1974) - Also know as Dead of Night, this was shown as part of a 16mm Horror Showcase from local heroes, the Cult Film Collective. I haven't seen it since a Netflix dvd pick up I made after reading about it in Rue Morgue magazine. Bob Clark was on a tear in the 70s and Deathdream holds up beautifully. Poignant, funny in parts, and just horrifically bleak in others. An easy recommendation for anyone looking for October viewing suggestions.