Le Sacré Monstre: Charles Bronson in Europe, Part One

Charles Bronson led a decades long career in film and television and his tenure had several distinct chapters. Many people associate Bronson with his notable ensemble appearances in stone-cold 60s adventure classics such as The Great Escape or The Dirty Dozen. There's a dedicated following for Bronson's wild Cannon years that produced films like 10 to Midnight or Kinjite: Forbidden Subjects. However, for the majority of film watchers of the last few decades, Charles Bronson has become essentially synonymous with the Death Wish series. Bronson first played Paul Kersey - an even tempered architect turned into a grim specter of retribution by the murder of his wife and rape of his daughter - in 1974 and would go on to reprise the role four more times throughout the 80s and 90s. Though the quality of the sequels is debatable, the series undoubtedly cemented Bronson in the annals of great action movie stars. Bronson was already in his 50s when he acted in Death Wish and by that time he (or more probably his agent) was advertising himself as the "Top World Box Office Star" and claiming the mantle of the highest paid male movie actor in the world. However, not even ten years before that and after decades of acting in Hollywood, Bronson was doing walk-on parts for television and relegated almost exclusively to supporting roles. What happened between Charles Bronson as journeyman character actor and Charles Bronson as international superstar leading man was a body of European work that fundamentally altered Bronson's career trajectory. Before Death Wish or even The Mechanic, Bronson had become a massive draw - particularly in France and Italy but also throughout Europe - based on 4-5 years of work and 10 films that are very distinct from the movies he would become best known for. Bronson's virile physicality and remarkable countenance (fans named him Le Sacré Monstre in France and Il Bruto in Italy - the sacred monster and the brute, respectively) assuredly played a part in his rise to European prominence but he was also able to express a wider range of characters and genres, playing more than the taciturn angel of death he would later become so associated with. Bronson's European work presents a fascinating series of films and I would argue some of the most interesting work in his fifty year career.

Bronson's European odyssey largely began in 1967. It was the year that Charlie would appear in Robert Aldrich's absurdly stacked ensemble action epic, The Dirty Dozen. Dozen would prove to be a massive commercial success despite receiving criticism for its explicit violence from historically squeamish critics like Roger Ebert and Bosley Crowther. American audiences clearly had a taste for bloodshed and that would become increasingly apparent over the next decade. Success for The Dirty Dozen didn't necessarily translate into success for Bronson, though. While he made appearances in popular series like The Fugitive and The Virginian, film offers in Hollywood were not coming his way. Bronson liked the work but never felt like television was the right fit for him: "I decided that motion pictures were my game...but I guess I just wasn't the kind of actor they could put under contract" Bronson had been turning down offers from the foreign film market for some time, preferring to work domestically and wanting to be successful in Hollywood. However, his desire to work in films overcame his propensity to remain in California and he eventually acquiesced. 

Bronson's first forays into the European film market were both co-productions to some degree - financed by European companies or shot in European locations but featuring other American stars. Guns for San Sebastian (1968) was a French/Italian/Mexican co-production starring Anthony Quinn as an outlaw who finds sanctuary from the Mexican authorities when the residents of a remote mountain village mistake him for their new priest. The village is subject to periodic raids by Yaqui natives and Bronson plays the role of Teclo, a half Yaqui vaquero who tries to convince the villagers to reject Christianity and embrace the Yaqui traditions so as to prevent further raids. Quinn's outlaw, unsurprisingly, isn't a tremendous asset for the spiritual health of the village but he is able to rally them to effectively fight the Yaqui; culminating in a massive battle scene finale. Despite gorgeous scope photography from the impeccable Armand Thirard (Diabolique, Wages of Fear), a killer score from Ennio Morricone, and production value that clearly made it onto the screen; Guns is not a particularly inspired take on the well-traveled tale of an exceptionally competent outsider helping a downtrodden village defend against an external threat. Helmed by Henri Verneuil, his buttery directorial style that serves him so well in elegant French crime pictures doesn't feel propulsive or muscular enough for a historical epic - though the action scenes are well composed when they do occur. The actors; Quinn, Bronson, Sam Jaffe, and Anajette Comer; are all charismatic enough but their characters aren't particularly interesting. Bronson was said to have enjoyed himself during the shoot but ultimately held a negative opinion of Guns. He felt that the picture came apart during the scriptwriting and seeing as that there are a half-dozen writing credits attached to the film, it's easy to agree with him. Still, Guns is notable as Bronson's first test of European waters.

Bronson's second "European" film is primarily an American effort. Produced by Paramount and featuring big name American talent in front of (Yul Brynner, Bob Mitchum) and behind the camera (Buzz Kulik), Villa Rides was shot entirely in Spain and does utilize some international actors as well. Villa Rides is a later entry to the Zapata Western genre and while not a great film, it remains an interesting one. Sam Peckinpah had an early crack at the script and was potentially (along with Sergio Leone) offered the directorial chair. I don't know if he and Peckinpah collaborated or not but Robert Towne also has a writing revision. Since both Peckinpah and Towne were fascinated by violence, it's unsurprising that the final product is an extremely bloody affair. However where Peckinpah or Sergio Leone would have had something to say about the violence, Buzz Kulik's relatively straightforward direction and lack of political context renders the brutality totally incongruous with an otherwise standard western/adventure story. The characters we're supposed to be rooting for routinely execute dozens of people and at times it's even played for laughs. Notoriously, there is a scene where Charles Bronson's Fierro lines up three men (carefully adjusting their positions) so he can kill all three with a single bullet. This is meant as comedy(?) Still, The larger battle sequences are impressive and there's also a great deal of actual stunt airplane footage  Brynner, Mitchum, and Bronson sharing the screen is fun even it none of them deliver stellar performances. Other notable cast members are Frank Wolff, Herbert Lom, Fernando Rey, and Italian model Maria Grazia Buccella. This is the first movie where Bronson wore his iconic mustache, his first with his new wife Jill Ireland, and one of the last movies where Bronson played a supporting role. Perhaps most importantly, it was during the shooting of Villa Rides that Bronson agreed to co-star in his first fully European production.

There are differing accounts of how Charles Bronson was eventually recruited to star alongside Alain Delon in Adieu l'Ami (known as either Farewell, Friend or Honor Among Thieves in the US). The director Jean Herman (later known as Jean Vautrin) claims that he, writer Sébastien Japrisot, and producer Serge Silberman spent a week in a Hollywood hotel seeking Americans to star in the picture. After striking out repeatedly they managed to sign Bronson on the final day they were in the country. I've also read that Delon was particularly impressed with Bronson in Machine Gun Kelly (1958) or that he became a fan of Bronson's paintings and wanted him specifically for the role. Contrastingly, I've heard the Silberman and Delon were pursuing Richard Widmark and only turned to Bronson as a last resort when Widmark was unavailable. Initial motivations aside, Bronson's then-agent Paul Kohner has provided the generally accepted version: that Serge Silberman made the trip out to Spain and offered Bronson the co-starring role, more money than he was used to, and the pitch that the European audiences were more attracted to characters than matinee idol looks (Alain Delon would seem to be the glaring exception). While Bronson's acceptance was a reluctant one, Kohner felt it was this decision that ultimately paved the way for Bronson's future ascent to superstardom. 

Adieu l'Ami is the story of two French Legionnaires, Delon and Bronson, returning to Marseilles after a deployment in Algeria. Propp (Bronson) attempts to lure Barran (Delon) to join him as a soldier of fortune in the Congo, but Barran insists on staying in Marseilles to repay the lover of a man who he accidentally killed. Barran's agreement involves breaking into a French corporation's safe to return some improperly taken bearer bonds and he works undercover as medical staff to perform the appropriate reconnaissance. Propp decides to stick around Marseilles and finds work pimping and running scams on his rich clientele (this results in a positively bizarre scene involving a rotating car park and a ventriloquist dummy). Barran commits to cracking the safe over a holiday weekend and Propp manages to insinuate himself into the job after overhearing millions could be held there. The two accidentally get themselves locked into the vault room with no food or water and while they are initially at complete odds with each other, they ultimately join forces to escape. The thriller set up continues to unfold in a convoluted fashion of reveals and betrayals ultimately erupting in a violent shootout. 

Adieu l'Ami has an unorthodox structure and subverts many expectations one might have for what initially appears to be a heist picture. The robbery is not a work of slick professionalism but more of a test of endurance as the two men try to crack the safe code through brute repetition of number combinations. When the somewhat unsatisfactory heist concludes, there's another hour of film that supplies further tests of Propp and Barran's fidelity towards one another. The key to Adieu l'Ami is in the title as it's less of a strict crime picture and actually a film about the bonds of friendship forged between two men on the outskirts of society. It's the code of honor instantly recognizable in the films of Melville or Mann or Woo and it works beautifully here as Delon and Bronson have genuinely great chemistry together. Delon's coolness is to be expected and it pairs remarkably well with Bronson's playfulness and Cheshire cat grin (which may be more of a surprise to fans who only know him from his more dour, less animated roles). Of course, the physicality of both actors is also on display with extended sequences of them stripped to the waist, sweating, sometimes fighting, and sometimes embracing. Whether you consider this to be homosexual subtext or not, this is certainly a film squarely centered on male love. Bronson came away from l'Ami with an enduring respect for Delon but unfortunately didn't think much of the film or Jean Herman. Despite the somewhat awkward plot, l'Ami is an incredibly stylish picture and Herman's visual inventiveness is clearly evident. Working alongside cinematographer Jean-Jacques Tarbès (La Piscine, Borsalino, Two Men in Town), Herman does a great deal to reflect the psychology of the film and its principals visually even when things get hazy narratively. Regardless of Bronson's or critics' appraisals, Adieu l'Ami went on to become a massive hit in France, raking in $6 million (well over $50 million adjusted for inflation). Charles Bronson was officially a box office draw in Europe, joining the ranks of unconventional leading men like Jean Paul Belmondo, and he would go on to only play leading and co-leading roles for the rest of his career. 

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Best New-to-Me: July 2024

July was a crazy month. I was very busy with the day job and it included travel as well as some major transitions. The dust is only now beginning to settle and I'm able to catch my breath. On the film side of things, I still watched plenty of movies but I allowed time for re-watches - either because I had shiny new copies of beloved favorites or I was exhausted enough that only the familiar appealed. The worst casualty of this month was my theatrical attendance which has a solitary entry down below. Fortunately, I still saw many great movies, was still excited by some new-to-me movies, and I'm very energized about some local programming over the next couple of months. 

This has always been a fairly eclectic space as far as film choices go. I think early on I had a lot more horror/cult entries, but there's always been some arthouse stuff as well as a smattering of new releases. Looking over what I watched in July, it's essentially all crime films. It has become the most essential part of my viewing week after week. It's a malleable genre with a lot of different facets and I can't imagine tiring of it anytime soon but I apologize to anyone who looks into this blog on occasion hoping for some real weirdo underground stuff. October will come sooner than later and I have a lot of things I'd like to watch and write about then. For now, here's to crime!

Hunter Will Get You (1976) - Far from Belmondo's best but a tribute to his impeccable onscreen charisma as well as an absolutely smoking Michel Colombier soundtrack. It blends the heist genre with a bit of international law enforcement intrigue that moves Hunter beyond a standard police procedural. Bruno Cremer manages a convincingly ruthless portrayal of the sociopathic killer that Belmondo is pursuing even if his character has some unfortunate queer villain characterization. Writer/director Philippe Labro also helmed Without Apparent Motive (1971) which is similarly decent. Both films have compelling casts, great location footage, and killer tunes. Certainly worth a look if you're a fan of French crime films of the era.

The Big Heat (1953) - I'm not the world's biggest themed marathon enthusiast but every so often I stumble into one of my own making. This year I found myself with lots of movies and plenty of free time on Independence Day. The result was my first (and possibly last) 4th of Ju-Lee Marvinthon wherein I watched a bunch of Lee Marvin movies in a row. It was a mix of revisits and new-to-me films and they were all great. I don't know if I need to say a lot about The Big Heat as it's hardly unknown but I will say that it knocked me flat with how intense it is. So many classic period noirs ('53 is a little later, I suppose) suffer from a brand of moral shrillness but Fritz Lang's hardboiled rager positively immolates anything of the sort. The criminals are predictably irredeemable but Heat differentiates itself with a scathing depiction of law enforcement and municipal corruption. Women are subject to the absolute worst Heat can dish out including some gasp inducing violence - but they also get to inhabit real characters on the screen. Gloria Grahame as Marvin's long suffering moll is nothing short of spectacular in this. Possibly one of the best performances I've seen all year. I appreciate Glenn Ford's take-no-shit toughness, but Grahame has all the best lines and adds some genuine pathos to the finale. Marvin's sadistic gangster is pretty smarmy even for a guy known for his villains. My understanding is the source novel is based on the author's experiences in Philadelphia but the film goes with a fictional city. Lang's vision is a dark one so it's no mystery why the kept the locale vague.

Violent Saturday (1955) - Shot largely on location in an Arizona mountain town - Richard Fleischer's daylight heist thriller really surprised me. The opening consists of an extended introduction to the town's inhabitants and reveals a complex web of interpersonal connections and melodramas. It results in a bit of a slow burn even if (per the title) the action ratchets up once the robbery goes down. It's a terrific looking scope, color film and has a splendid cast of actors - Victor Mature, Marvin (of course), Virginia Leath, J. Carrol Naish, and improbably Ernest Borgnine as an Amish farmer. The finale goes on too long and ends up kind of flat but everything building up to actual heist is excellent. When the bank job finally goes off it's white knuckle tension through to the denouement. Marvin again is a particularly cruel criminal which largely defined his career until The Dirty Dozen.

The Killers (1964) - This Don Siegel 60s noir was originally intended for television but wound up being far too hot for the small screen. Taking the kernel of Hemmingway's short story and expanding it through time and geography while being supported by an absolutely knockout cast. Marvin plays a hard, but professional hitman who's partner is the deliriously entertaining Clu Gulager. Gulager's fidgety health obsessed killer is chilling in a remarkably playful way. He's like a kid who pulls the legs off of spiders for fun. John Cassavetes is roughly the protagonist - a doomed race car driver who falls for the wiles of Angie Dickinson who acts as femme fatale. Killers was the last screen role for Ronald Reagan and the only villainous role of his career. It's a little surreal to watch him in this kind of part, but I think it really works. If you're a fan of the era there are all manner of interesting connections between this and other films. Marvin and Dickinson would be reunited in Point Blank and honestly Killers has such a similar 60s vibe that you could believe it's rooted in Richard Stark's fiction just as easily as born from Hemmingway. The budget limitations show around the edges but Siegel was made for this kind of material and the cast is so much fun that I hardly noticed. Did I mention you get to see Cassavetes punch Ronnie in the face? That has to be worth the price of admission alone.

Nice Guy (2012) - Every so often I'm compelled to try and dig up some 21st Century genre film because I know there are some gems out there that flew under my radar. Either they only ever did the festival circuit or they got dumped on some streamer without much recognition. Pascal Bergamin's and Cavan Clerkin's Nice Guy isn't exactly an unheralded masterpiece, but it's a solid, super low budget crime thriller that's worth your 89 minutes. Largely bound to interior settings - drab apartments and not entirely convincing strip clubs -  and I wish they could have leaned into more location footage to liven up the look of the film a bit. Still, the plot definitely held my interest and each sequence of nighttime exterior shots does add a little grit to the proceedings. Probably not outrageous enough to become a cult favorite but the climax is definitely memorable and surprisingly grim.

Trouble Man (1972) - Absurdly entertaining but plenty hard when it needs to be. Trouble Man has been on my watchlist for a while but I was struggling to find a version that a) didn't look like crap and b) didn't have the music replaced/updated for copyright reasons. Terrific cast with crackling dialogue - Robert Hooks' Mr. T fights, shoots, and jives as well as any 70s protagonist but also has some great sequences of shoe leather detective work, espionage, and essentially a penthouse siege that had me thinking about Richard Stark/Parker. Some tremendous action and that Marvin Gaye score is superb. I believe Ivan Dixon's The Spook Who Sat by the Door is getting a restoration this year and I'm just hoping a lot more attention can be heaped on this uniquely talented actor/director.

The Nickel Ride (1974) - Character driven slow burn noir that focuses on the mundanity of a life of crime early on and then descends into bleak 70s paranoia. It has a tremendous mood and comparisons to Eddie Coyle are apt as far as atmosphere goes. Coyle is punctuated by action driven heist sequences though and Nickel Ride is much more content to remain a character piece.  There are a handful of scenes that dig into Cooper's grit and Jason Miller cornered the market on world weariness. Still, a little more viciousness would have turned the tension up a notch and would make Ride a stone cold crime classic in my book. I'm so enamored of the era and the genre that I'd pick up a nice restoration if available (I think this only made it to dvd) but it's definitely worth a watch.

The Drowning Pool (1975) - Paul Newman's second Harper film feels like a bit of a throwback to '66. I have to believe that's intentional as both Newman and director Stuart Rosenberg were certainly capable of making a modern feeling film. However, if you're willing to be charmed by a detective yarn that combines wit and cynicism without getting nearly as bleak as its contemporaries - Drowning Pool delivers on that front. The cast is rock solid - notably featuring Linda Haynes who is the female lead in Nickel Ride - and I love moving Harper down to Louisiana for a different flavor. What makes Pool really special is the Gordon Willis cinematography. It's an absolutely gorgeous looking film and while the mood is relatively light Willis has no issues serving up some beautifully dark shots you could can get lost in. I can't put this in the same tier as say The Long Goodbye  or Night Moves but the look of it is so terrific that it's hard for me not to love.

The Crime is Mine (2023) - I was really hoping this one might land at the local French film festival this year as seeing it on a big screen with an audience seemed like the right way to do it. Instead, I watched it on a bumpy plane ride. Not ideal! Still, this is a handsome and breezy caper romp with some fun nods even if it never becomes anything of substance. It is very silly at times and maybe too slight for some people - but there are worse ways to spend your time than admiring the costumes and enjoying a libation of your choice. Undoubtedly, Isabelle Huppert runs off with the whole damn show when she appears and I do like this films appreciation for early French silents. The lightest of light entertainments but maybe you need something to watch with your mom.

Heat (1986) - Weirdly, I also re-watched Michael Mann's Heat in July but I'm glad to have finally gotten around Dick Richards' and Burt Reynolds' Las Vegas set neo-noir. I've always heard mixed things about this one and I think it's fair to say that it is uneven. It has a strikingly melancholy vibe but then mixes in some goofy humor that didn't always land with me. Still, I was invested in following these Vegas oddballs around and when the action does kick in - it has a seriously visceral, almost exploitation movie feel to it. Reynolds' ex-soldier, Nick, disdains the use of firearms so he becomes a lethal MacGyver of violence when the need arises. It was also nice to see another role from Karen Young who absolutely floored me when I watched Handgun/Deep in the Heart earlier this year. It seems like Reynolds really struggled to get out from underneath his more comedic persona but I have to admit digging what I've been seeing from him. 

P.J. (1968) - Another 60s crime scorcher featuring George Peppard. P.J. is a product of its time and hardly anything I'd call enlightened. However, it's still a ripper of a P.I. story with great music and surprisingly hard hitting violence towards the end. Peppard rides the line between smartass and hard luck case deftly and Raymond Burr is about as fine a heavy as you're going to get. The story begins in a typically noir NYC setting but then detours for a spell to a Caribbean island under British rule. The politics on display aren't amazing, but the exploitative nature of white people and their money is certainly noted. This interlude lends P.J. more of a jet-setting feel which works well with the international cast and differentiates it a bit from the dozens of city-bound mysteries from the same time. John Guillerman was largely a journeyman but he managed some smart British neo-noirs before he started tackling 70s disaster movies and P.J. is akin to the former. There's an early brawling sequence that works well in establishing Peppard's character and also features one of my favorites: "Judo" Gene LeBell. Maybe close to a comfort food watch for me, but I really enjoyed this one.

Theatrical Screenings!

Razorback (1984) - Sadly the lone entry for theatrical screenings in July. I'm still really happy we made it out for everyone's favorite killer boar movie. I forget just how weird Razorback really is but it's an absolute joy to see it play on the big screen in all its 1980s music video styled glory. The narrative rambles in some odd directions which tends to make it polarizing even though I think everyone is largely in favor of the look and practical effects. Wildly it sounds like the source novel is even more of a mess and the filmmakers actually trimmed down the story to make it more comprehensible. Either way, I still dig this pig.

Best New-to-Me: June 2024/Junesploitation

The Twin Cities in Summertime is traditionally accompanied by an absolute onslaught of activities as we all try to squeeze every last ounce of fun out of the daylit months before the shroud of winter darkness descends. This trend doesn't necessarily lend itself to movie-watching but I have also been participating in the F This Movie! Junesploitation challenge for a few years now - partially because it's fun and partially to keep my movie watching going while I'm otherwise biking around, going to outdoor events, and living part-time on patios throughout the city. This year I wasn't totally successful with my challenge list but I still watched a ton of great stuff that I may not have gotten around to otherwise. I also made it out to the theater a fair amount - though mostly for repertory screenings. I was feeling a little burnout towards the end of the month and found myself doing a lot of re-watches for some other writing I've been thinking about. Hopefully I'll have a chance to move that project forward over the holiday weekend. However, this post is for new-to-me movies and I think these are some great ones so check it out.

Hong Kong Godfather (1985) - Later Shaw Bros Triad rager that features the kinetic ferocity of 80s HK action cinema combined with the chaotic nihilism that reminds me more of 70s yakuza films. The narrative isn't what I'd describe as electric but it hardly matters when the action is this frenetic. The well worn honor code tropes recede to the background amidst a whirlwind of brutal machete fights, hacked off limbs, backbreakers delivered to children, animal attacks, and a gruesome and classically 80s mall showdown climax. While the focus is certainly on mayhem, there are some solid performances here as well. Bryan Leung manages to impart some believability as a reformed hit man who can only be pushed so far and it's a real treat to see Shih Kin (Enter the Dragon) as an aging gang boss who still has some moves.

Money Movers (1978) - Ferociously violent Ozploitation heist flick from Bruce Beresford. It features a young Bryan Brown but it truly is an ensemble piece with somewhat disparate storylines circling each other in a slow boil until they collide in an explosive finale. The opening robbery sets a grim tone when one of the thieves unloads a full shotgun blast into an unfortunate armored car driver. The action slows to a simmer as the plot reveals players on all sides of the armored transport world - inside men plotting the next job, corrupt cops playing the angles, and local mob looking to muscle in on the action. There are also a couple honest men just trying to do their job. Once things pick up again, they are delivered in resolutely hardboiled, take no prisoners fashion that I found irresistible. This one absolutely deserves more attention as a classic of gritty, 70s crime cinema.

Act of Vengeance/Rape Squad (1974) - There's no getting around that this is very much an exploitation picture in a very classically American International Pictures kind of way. There are some harrowing scenes of humiliation and degradation and no shortage of nudity even in the film's lighter moments. However, Act of Vengeance also manages to portray the female protagonists with some genuine empathy and at least some understanding of the institutional misogyny they face. The main thrust of the film is a group of women who form a "rape squad" after encountering the indifference and incompetence of traditional law enforcement. It's a B picture to be certain but it's all done very competently and professionally and the lead actors are totally charismatic and interesting to watch. There are several uncomfortable sequences but there are also a series of great ones as the now-vigilantes beat and terrorize obscene phone callers, would-be date rapists, and even an abusive pimp.

Street Girls (1975) -  Street Girls is a tale of sex and addiction shot almost exclusively on the streets and in the strip clubs of Eugene, Oregon in the 70s. Predating Schrader's Hardcore by a few years, Girls is the story of a concerned father who goes looking for his daughter after she disappears from school. What he uncovers is a world of go-go dancing, prostitution, lesbianism(!), and drugs. It would be a stretch to say the filmmakers (director Michael Miller and an early writing credit for Barry Levinson) handle this with sensitivity but they do attempt to reveal the harsh, sexist world that has been set into motion and they don't seem eager to cast judgement around the sex workers themselves. Queerness is displayed as a kind of oddity in the film but again, those characters aren't necessarily judged as perverse or bad in any way. There's a nearly documentarian lens via Eugene, the strip bars, and it's denizens are being examined. This could be off-putting to some but it's hard for me to resist such a distinctly individual document. I'd love to know more about this production one day.

Family Honor (1973) - Zero budget, hyper-regional crime drama that manages to turn a lack of resources into a palpable atmosphere of authenticity. The basic framework of the plot is a cop being pressured by his family to take revenge on the gangsters who killed his father. However, Family Honor tends to meander through the grimy streets and the characters who populate it's grainy, 16mm world. The onscreen action tends to be brief (though intensely visceral at times) and the film is more focused on tense and sometimes bizarre interactions between all of these New York faces - many of whom only ever had a credit or two. In a uniquely weird turn, blues rocker Leslie West (Mountain) features prominently as a improbably eccentric mafia goon decked out in what must have been his own custom boots and ruffled collars. Maybe not an all-timer crime picture, but absolutely a must watch for fans of scrappy filmmaking and cinematic time capsules.

War Dog (1987) - Positively bonkers dadsploitation action film from Sweden. Ostensibly set in an America where guns are as pervasive as Coca-Cola, it's the story of some kind of super-soldier program gone rogue but that's barely comprehensible in the onslaught of gruesome action that rarely lets up. Bloody squibs erupt left and right, even children are annihilated, and a corpse is hurled down a water slide. This must be absolutely insane to watch with and audience and I have to tip my hat to Erica of Unsung Horrors/The Sweetest Taboo for turning me onto this one.

A Gun for Jennifer (1987) - Another rape/revenge flick by way of 90s NYC instead of 70s California. I was expecting some Sarah Jacobson style punk-fueled indie fury and Jennifer absolutely delivers on that front. What surprised me was how compelling the crime/police procedural elements were, the unflinching gore, and how the on-screen violence is exclusively inflicted on abusive men while any sexual violence is largely implied. My love of NYC films is largely driven by the quality of filmmakers and performers as well as location footage in America's largest film set. Jennifer uses a lot of interior shots but there are still some outstanding (probably guerilla) shots of nighttime streets, Port Authority, and Grand Central. The actors are uniformly solid and especially notable is veteran character actor and long time Spike Lee regular Arthur Nascarella who brings some gravitas as a gruff police lieutenant. The 90s vibes are strong in this one with a lot of sex work-positive feminism, riot grrl soundtrack, and even a Tribe-8 performance that provides a powerful bonding moment for the women involved. I would have been totally satisfied with a scrappy, grimy snapshot of 90s NYC but I think there's a lot to admire with this one.

Bloody Mama (1970) - One of Roger Corman's (RIP) last directorial efforts and a solid one at that. This is undoubtedly meant to cash in on post Bonnie and Clyde interest in American outlaws but happens to feature an absolute barn burner of a performance by Shelley Winters as Ma Barker. Corman underscores the Barker mythos with psychosexual undercurrents and nods towards incest and Winters evokes a complicated portrait of the character. At times vulnerable but flies instantly into wild eyed rages when she feels her boys are threatened. This emotional chaos gives way to commanding professional coolness when Barker has to pull a bank job or dispatch unwanted witnesses. It's Winters' picture through and through but there are some great early performances from Bruce Dern and Robert De Niro as well. I was especially happy to see Pat Hingle who plays a wealthy patriarch the gang captures for blackmail and manages to insinuate himself into their lives before the end. Just as a weird aside, Winters played a comedic version of the Ma Barker character some years earlier on the Batman television show and (at least for people of my generation) Pat Hingle is most recognizable as Commissioner Gordon from Burton's caped crusader films. 

Theatrical Screenings!

Early in the month following a less than outstanding Memorial Day Weekend box office turnout, we heard a lot about the death of movie theaters. Then within a couple of weeks we heard that actually, they aren't so dead, that people were turning out in droves for other movies, and the so-called "flops" actually did okay. I don't know what to make of this other than a) studios are bad a predicting which titles will pop, b) their projected numbers for "success" are borderline idiotic, and c) the pundits enthusiastically pointing out the death of the theater aren't going themselves. When I attended a Monday night screening of The Hunger, not only was there a great turnout for a nearly 40 year old movie - the place was absolutely packed with people eager to see the latest Bad Boys installment. Tim, who programs Cinema of the Macabre, has been noting that the Tape Freaks series that he co-curates has been selling out weeks in advance. I think there's still palpable desire to see movies at theaters (or other spaces offering the cinematic experience) and I don't think for a minute it's limited to one kind of film or one generation of movie-goers. Maybe it's the old punk in me but you are your local cinema scene. We have a fantastic cinema scene in the Twin Cities and it is completely due to the hardworking folks that make it happen. Places like New York or Austin or even Paris have such entrenched film cultures that it's easy to forget how critical independent film societies were to establishing them. If you live remotely near cool theaters that are doing cool programming, you should support them. If there's nothing like that where you live, look into what kind of options there could be for a film club or a screening series. Participation is key and it could be as easy as buying a ticket.

The Hunger (1983) - I've always liked The Hunger even if I'm not as devoted as its most ardent fans. It's cliche to say that it's all about "vibes" but it is definitely a lot about aesthetics. I have to say I found it 1000% more engaging in a theatrical setting. The music and the visuals were so much more riveting to me and my brain was drawing all kinds of weird parallels between it, Ridley Scott's work, HK cinema motifs (probably borrowed to some extent from the brothers Scott), and even batshit Italian horror movies. The cast couldn't be cooler and the opening club scene with Bahaus booming through the speakers will still be the epitome of 80s goth glamour. 

Household Saints (1993) - I have become such a massive fan of Nancy Savoca's Dogfight and I was totally thrilled to hear her following film had gotten a restoration. I admit I wasn't as taken with this film, but it's still such an absolute joy to see such an ambitious 90s indie finding a new audience. The multi-generational New York immigrant story feels very genuine and the cast is excellent - Vincent D'Onofrio, Tracey Ullman, and Lli Taylor especially but also a great supporting role from Michael Imperioli. I was bowled over to learn that this was shot in North Carolina and somewhat crushed to learn that the "Kalina Cinema" where Taylor and Imperioli see Last Year at Marienbad was not a real place.

Eyes of Laura Mars (1978) - This screened at the Walker Art Center as part of a series their programming in conjunction with their Keith Haring exhibition (beyond  highly recommended for anyone in the area). I've only seen Laura Mars once before and recall it not having the strongest plot in the world - that's correct but it's nearly impossible to care with the cast, the music, the locations, and the fever pitch thriller action that plays out. Again, this worked so much better for me in the theater and I have had Michael Zager's "Let's All Chant" stuck in my head ever since this viewing. I'm not going to enter the fray over whether this is an American giallo or not, but suffice to say it is late 70s perfection pulsing with cocaine and fashion and garbage lined city streets. Certainly well within the spirit of the genre.

Robot Dreams (2023) - I knew very little about this other than thinking the trailer looked charming enough to check out. I had no idea this would be such a New York movie or that it would be such a movie lovers movie. Robot Dreams is free from dialogue and takes place in an alternate 1984 NYC that is populated with anthropomorphized animals. The technology level is as you would expect except that companion robots are available for purchase. The dog protagonist buys such a robot to ease his loneliness and the two form a close bond. They are driven apart due to circumstances beyond their control and the rest of the film plays out like vignettes of their lives while separated and their attempts to reunite. There are a ton of film references throughout this - The Apartment, Psycho, Busby Berkeley musicals, The Wizard of Oz, etc. There are also some amazing cultural and musical references that are a lot of fun. Earth, Wind, and Fire managed to dislodge Michael Zager from my brain briefly after seeing this one. Very sweet, but hardly saccharine. I'm going to guess this is better than the new Pixar movie.

Best New-to-Me: May 2024

 Another whirlwind month behind us as we begin the Summertime in earnest. Some of my movie-watching has waned in favor of bike rides, patio hangs, and other outdoors pursuits - however, I still have a lot of screenings to talk about. I don't have anything new to plug but I was welcomed in to the Minnesota Film Critics Alliance this past month. The Alliance includes some terrific critics and writers and I'm excited to be included. Hopefully I can learn a thing or two from them. I am generally too obstinate to stick to many movie "theme" challenges but I have been doing the F This Movie! Junesploitation challenge for a few years now. 30 days, 30 different prompts, hopefully 30 movies of genre insanity. If you've never tried it and are vaguely interested, I find it to be a fun way to knock out some of those persistent watchlist barnacles as well as pushing myself in some different directions. Unlike horror or noir challenges, I appreciate the variety of different exploitation genres and the spirit of inclusiveness among the participants. Hop around the schedule if you want, change your movie selections, maybe you only watch five Junesploitation movies, however you do it works. I'll do a full roundup at the end of the month but you can check out my (tentative) list of selections here.

China Girl (1987) - Abel Ferrara's take on Romeo and Juliet set on the border between Manhattan's China Town and Little Italy. This had been on my watchlist for a long time but a recent visit to the area prompted me to finally sit down for it. I assumed Ferrara would deliver a grittier, NYC location based production but in actuality it's a much more stylized, set bound film. While there's still a bit of Ferrara chaos bubbling underneath the sleek veneer - China Girl feels almost like a music video in its precise shot composition and overall mood. This suits the attractive if somewhat vapid lead performers well enough but I can understand not all audiences connecting with it. There are some solid supporting turns from Minneapolis born James Hong and a young David Caruso which bolster the drama a bit. Also, when the inevitable violence kicks in it is palpably visceral. Maybe one more for Ferrara completists or 80s NYC maniacs but definitely worth a look.

Street of the Damned (1984) - Another film from Fun City Editions' Seeing Red set I received in April. I really need to re-visit this one to more firmly cohere my thoughts on it, but it's a fascinating watch. Though there's nothing explicitly said about when the film is set, it strikes an out-of-time mood that reminds me of other weirdo 80s street life films like (also released by FCE) Alphabet City. The otherworldliness in only exacerbated by the Paris suburb where it is set - something I've seen utilized well by Alain Jessua and even Claude Chabrol. The plotline is essentially a lone streetfighter standing up against the local toughs but Bernard Giraudeau's Chet isn't exactly a good guy and the film leans as much into existential drama as it does junkyard brawling. I keep mentioning the strangeness of it, and it is that, but I think it has the potential to join the ranks of cult classic, vaguely post-apocalyptic, counter-culture films from around the same time. 

Black List (1984) -  The final film for me in the Seeing Red set and what a way to wrap things up. A heist gone sour draws in a widowed auto-repair shop owner played by Annie Girardot in an attempt to reunite with her estranged daughter. I don't want to reveal too many details, but suffice to say I did not know how badly I needed a hard driving, ruthless Annie Girardot in my life before watching Black List. Perhaps even more impressive to me is that she manages to imbue the standard angel of vengeance style role with a genuine and heartfelt emotional core. This film looks tremendous and it really moves, too. I'm hoping to write an extended review of all three films in the set. Highest recommendation.

The Lineup (1958) - Erica from Unsung Horrors recommended this to me ages ago because it contains a fantastic dummy drop and it's just a damn good 50s noir. Don Siegel is at the helm for this one and he puts together a ripping crime story with economy but his direction is never austere. The attraction for a lot of viewers is going to be the absolutely fantastic San Francisco location work that includes the former Sutro Baths. It doesn't hurt that it was shot by absolute film legend Hal Mohr who demonstrates an agility with his camera even later into his career. Eli Wallach smolders as a psychopathic bag man who goes by the name of Dancer, but his performance is beautifully complimented by Robert Keith who plays his comparatively reserved partner in crime. This one is under 90s minutes and there's a gorgeous looking transfer on Prime at the moment. Easy recommendation for classic crime fans.

The Jericho Mile (1979) - Michael Mann's first directorial effort is primarily a prison drama but it is one embedded in the structure of an underdog sports movie. Peter Strauss plays a convicted killer who notably is doing his own time not only in eschewing most prison affiliations but also committing to an unrelenting schedule of daily running. I have a real weakness for these 70s/80s convict narratives - they can feel somewhat naive compared to the explicit grimness of later films and true crime documentaries - but Jericho Mile as well as movies like Short Eyes and even Straight Time were all written by ex-cons and have their own sense of authenticity. Further emphasizing that authenticity was Mann's decision to shoot almost entirely on location at Folsom Prison. Jericho Mile employs some terrific supporting actors like Roger Mosley, Brian Dennehy, and Ed Lauter but also makes tremendous use of non-actors to fill the prison with interesting, believable characters. Like many television productions of its time, Jericho Mile is expertly shot and produced even though I don't know that it nods towards the cooler-than-cool stylization that Mann would be so well known for. What is clear is his respect for lived experience and his willingness to work with people outside of Hollywood to find that core of reality.

Darker Than Amber (1970) - I have been wanting to watch this Robert Clouse adaptation of a John D. MacDonald Travis McGee story for ages but have been holding out for a better looking copy then the taped-off-tv versions I was able to find. I finally caved when it popped up on Tubi - it's still definitely a vhs rip but at least it was subtitled so I could work with the murky sound. MacDonald's most famous creation has the air of a 1960s mens' magazine fantasy - intermittently employed McGee lives on his boat in Florida where he takes up fishing, drinking, beautiful women, and the occasional adventure. He's not James Bond but he isn't some Chandler-ian hard luck case either. Rod Taylor's imposing physicality and Aussie charm serve the character perfectly and he's equally believable lounging on his boat or in the middle of a fistfight. Suzy Kendall - bond girl and giallo regular - makes for a compelling femme fatale that McGee literally pulls out of the water as the entry to the film's central mystery. Clouse's production plays out like a particularly good television movie with the exception that some of the violence feels extreme for 1970. Apparently Taylor and bad guy bodybuilder William Smith genuinely got into it during their climactic brawl - this bit of screen brutality caught the eye of Bruce Lee who then pursued Clouse to direct Enter the Dragon. Darker Than Amber failed to catch fire at the box office and it's really too bad. I would have loved to see a series of these even as a television productions like the Columbo or Kojak movies.

Yakuza Wolf: I Perform Murder (1972) - Arguably my pick for best titled film of anything I watched in May, Yakuza Wolf  presents another point in the East influences West influences East cycle as it takes stylistic and plot elements from Spaghetti Western films, which were of course famously influenced by Samurai films, and transposes them into a Yakuza film. Sonny Chiba stars as a vengeance seeking man-in-black replete with duster and broad brimmed hat looking to take on multiple yakuza clans. My favorite Chiba roles tend to find him raging and brutal or gregarious and charming and his character here is much more in line with the grim, taciturn protagonists of Leone or Corbucci. Exchanging a horse and a Winchester for a Ford Mustang and a silenced automatic handgun, Chiba's Gosuke Himuro pursues his aim first with a Yojimbo/Dollars style gambit of pitting two sides against each other and then morphing towards a desperate mission of vengeance that recalls the finale of Django. This first entry of Yakuza Wolf is a properly gruesome and sleazy slice of 70s Yakuza film which pairs well with its Italian inspiration as they pushed genre boundaries forcefully as well. There is a follow up movie that has almost nothing to do with this one save that Sonny Chiba is in it and yakuza are involved but I found it far less interesting.

I... For Icarus (1979) - A big budget Henri Verneuil political thriller that also serves up a heady blend of 70s paranoia goodness. Very much inspired by JFKs assassination featuring Yves Montand as the attorney who is tirelessly pursuing the truth underneath layers of conspiracy. Per usual, Verneuil delivers a gorgeously produced film that includes some solid location work to go along with his typically astounding sets. He collaborates once again with Ennio Morricone as a composer even if music is rather sparsely employed in the film, but it's a terrific theme when it does kick in. Verneuil plays a bit with themes around media - television appearances, interrogation recordings, an analogue of the Zapruder film - but the main appeal is this tense conspiracy as the body count climbs higher.

Réjeanne Padovani (1973) - This is the third film released by Canadian International Pictures in what forms a loose trilogy of crime movies from Denys Arcand's early career. Chronologically Réjeanne Padovani is actually the middle film between the darkly absurd Dirty Money and the thrilling and brutal Gina. By comparison Réjeanne is the far more reserved of the three - focusing squarely on spoken interactions - dinner conversations, backroom negotiations, telephone calls, and bar small talk. Still, it paints a convincing picture of how business, politics, and crime forms an ugly alliance in Montreal. Though Réjeanne is very much a product of the 70s, it was only in 2011 that the Charbonneau Commission was formed in Quebec to investigate corruption as well as organized crime connections into the management of public construction contracts. Réjeanne may be more compelling as a cultural document and less so as an entertainment compared to Arcand's other early films but it does make for a fascinating snapshot in time and credit's Arcand's prescience regarding social issues.

Intrépidos Punks (1983) - I imagine some people will be able to decide immediately whether this movie is for them by reading the brief and totally accurate plot description on Letterboxd. I think I could say something like "Tarzan, the leader of a satanic punk rock biker gang (played by luchador El Fantasma) pile drives some poor chump in the middle of a brawl" and that might be enough for you to add this to your watchlist. Outrageous doesn't really begin to cover a film like Intrépidos Punks, it is strange, anarchic, offensive, and I'm totally taken with it. The Punks are a marauding biker gang who are mostly interested in drugs, violence, sex, and sexual violence. A key scene involves them capturing the wives of the men who run the prison were Tarzan is being kept so that they can ransom his freedom. Remembering the cruelty inflicted upon them in prison, they decide to ravage the women and suddenly the band that plays the Intrépidos Punks theme song appears to provide a soundtrack to the assault. For all of the insane moments sprinkled throughout the film, it also features a lot of hanging out with the punks. It reminded me in some ways of Stone however where you learn to sympathize with the Grave Diggers motorcycle club - the Punks are beyond understanding or redemption. Justice does arrive in the form of three mustachioed detectives who managed to imprison Tarzan previously. They are largely indistinguishable though Detective Marcos features prominently in the sequel. You can find grimy streaming copies of this with or without subtitles but I imagine most viewers will be better off waiting for the Vinegar Syndrome release announced for later this year. 

Revenge of the Punks (1991) -  Picking up right where the last movie left off, Revenge starts with a prison break for Tarzan who has only one thing on his mind - revenge. Vengeance takes form of the punks riding to Detective Marcos' daughter's birthday party where they proceed to rape and kill everyone in attendance save for Marcos. That's certainly one way to open a movie. The film then transitions to Cannon Death Wish territory as Marcos does his best Bronson - singling out gang members and dispatching them in increasingly elaborate ways: Impalement, snakes, fire, and acid are only a few. While the premise is certainly as wild as Intrépidos Punks and it still contains enough bare breasts for a Russ Meyer film, Revenge feels less goofily chaotic and more viscerally violent. Gone are the pro-wrestling fight moves and punk dancing montages. They've been replaced with satanic rites featuring real animal parts and Marcos' grim string of violent killings. I still liked the sequel a great deal but it is perhaps less "fun" than the previous film if this kind of thing fits your definition of fun to begin with. Weirdly, I stumbled across these not because of the forthcoming VS release but because they were on a list of Mad Max rip-offs. I would not really call these Maxploitation but if you like the especially wild films in the biker genre, these should definitely be on your radar.

Theatrical Screenings!

T.R. Baskin (1971)- Baskin was one of my favorite new-to-me picks last year so I was thrilled to be able to catch it at the Trylon. My admiration for the film and Bergen's and Boyle's performances haven't diminished a bit and the theatrical presentation made it easier for me to appreciate the sound design. It's a detail that not every movie captures and the constant din of traffic noises and city sounds really does underscore Baskin's isolation. Another thing I've been thinking about in regards to Baskin is Carnal Knowledge which came out the same year and also features Bergen. I don't know many who love Carnal Knowledge but it certainly was the more acclaimed of the two pictures and arguably has persisted in the culture more prominently - it's a bigger film with a wild cast. The films take on different subjects but there is some overlap in themes of self-discovery and forming relationships. It's striking at how Baskin is certainly skeptical of modern life and relationships but ultimately a far more nuanced portrait of human existence wherein Knowledge is so deeply cynical and ultimately kind of cruel.

Evil Does Not Exist (2023) -  I feel like I'll have to give this another watch one day considering the enthusiastic praise it has gotten from so many people. I thought it was beautifully made but perhaps I'm resisting the parable elements of Evil Does Not Exist as I found its messaging a little flat. I'm totally sympathetic to a film about the stupidity of corporations and our obliviousness to the environmental harm we're all complicit in, but I think I was struggling with the portrayal of a village that has a perfect understanding of that. I've lived in small towns - stupidity and obliviousness are universal conditions, not limited to urban dwellers. I've also attended my fair share of public hearings and the opinions expressed during those are rarely as wise and artful as the briefing featured in the film (though it's a excellently constructed scene). The premise of Evil Does Not Exist immediately reminded me of Shunya Ito's Curse of the Dog God from 1977. They are very different films, but Ito (and I can't believe I'm saying this) seems to have a much more nuanced perception of the urban/rural divide in Japan. Still, Hamaguchi's film is gorgeous with a tremendous score and some excellent sequences.

1980s Action Extravaganza - I wasn't sure what I'd be getting into with the Trylon's first ever 80s Action mini-marathon. Four surprise films (3 on 35mm) which could have been total fan favorites or the deepest of deep cuts. I liked that it was only four films and that it wasn't overnight so when I saw there were still tickets available online, I scooped them up. It turned out to be a good time and the Trylon's years of running the much more challenging overnight Horrorthon every year were very much in evidence as this little fest ran super smoothly. The absolute standout for me was John Woo's The Killer shown in 35mm. It's a movie I watched dozens of times as a young man but haven't watched in a while - largely due to its absence on streaming or an officially sanctioned blu ray release. My one gripe about the films were that they were all things I'd seen before and largely things I'd seen many, many times before. The trailers shown between the films had me more excited than some of the actual selections. Still, it was fun to be there and who knows if I'll have the opportunity to do another one.

Enter the Clones of Bruce (2023) and The Clones of Bruce Lee (1980) - This was an inspired bit of programming by Tim Holly over at Emagine Willow Creek featuring David Gregory's new Brucesploitation documentary followed by a classic Brucesploitation feature. Weirdly, I was attending another screening in NYC last year during the Tribeca Film Fest when Enter the Clones was making its debut. I recall walking by the poster and wondering if I had really missed out. Luckily Tim had our backs and brought this weird slice of film history to our doorsteps. It's a solid doc. and is especially interesting when it leans into stories of Hong Kong film production of the 70s and 80s. I'm not sure it has enough narrative thrust to appeal to the uninitiated as I found my attention wandering at parts, but I'm so glad to have caught it. Clones of Bruce Lee isn't a great kung-fu movie but it is positively bonkers and absolutely the kind of thing I prefer seeing with an audience. I don't think I'm the target market for Severin's Bruceploitation box set but I'm glad it exists and that I got to catch a taste of it.

WarGames (1983) - This was a member screening for the Cult Film Collective. I don't know that WarGames would have been my first choice for a screening but there is something special about watching it on 16mm in a wood paneled side room of an Eagles' Lodge. It's still an entertaining movie and I give the venue 1000/10. Would do again in a heartbeat.

Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga (2024) - I am not the biggest Fury Road enthusiast - I didn't love it when it came out and I haven't watched it since the theater - so I did not approach Furiosa with high expectations. I guess those expectations were met? I thought this was okay. It was definitely too long and I was fairly bored at parts. I don't think Miller really handles narrative or character very well and I struggle with his modern aesthetic sensibilities. Why spend 78 days shooting practical effects for a single sequence and then cover it in 10k layers of digital fuckery? I just don't get it. Anyway, don't listen to me, enjoy what you enjoy, I'll be over here watching Intrépidos Punks.

  

Best New to Me: April 2024

 April absolutely flew by and I'm still coming to terms that it is May and that the year will be halfway through in a month. I did not watch a ton of movies last month but I did get out to several screenings and still have plenty to talk about. For those of you who still enjoy print, I had the privilege to contribute to volume 2 of Klon Waldrip's Ghastly Horror Society Compendium zines. Klon's a great artist and writer and he does such a terrific job with these. The contributors he gets are wildly talented and I'm lucky to be included. I wrote a piece on Truck Turner but I highly recommend you just snag both volumes (you should just buy all of Klon's zines to be perfectly honest). I made no contribution other than pre-ordering Erica Schultz' book, The Sweetest Taboo: An Unapologetic Guide to Child Kills in Film, but I also highly recommend snagging a copy of that before they're all gone. She and Hauntlove and all of her co-conspirators put something really special together. Follow her @Hexmassacre on IG or Twitter for the most up-to-date info on availability. That's all my plugging for now, let's talk about movies.

Rich Kids (1979) - Another winning entry in the late 70s/early 80s divorce film genre. I believe this was Trini Alvarado's film debut and the start of a series of NYC focused coming-of-age films for her that included Times Square and Dreams Don't Die. Both Alvarado and her co-star, Jeremy Levy, account well for themselves and the focus on the kids' experience as well as the city scape lend this a similar quality to Jeremy (though the protagonists' ages result in a more innocent story). The adults, including Kathryn Walker and John Lithgow, are also quite good and manage to deliver a series of believably flawed though well-intentioned individuals who are navigating life as best as they can (though they all have piles of money). I'd be curious to know what motivated Robert M. Young to move from a prison film (Short Eyes) or an immigrant story (Alambrista!) to a domestic drama on the Upper West Side but while I don't think this rises to the heights of An Unmarried Woman, it's still excellently realized.

Handgun/Deep in the Heart (1983) - This is another absolutely fabulous discovery (for me) thanks to Fun City Editions and the aforementioned Erica who has been singing its praises for a while now. Karen Young plays a young teacher from the East Coast who relocates to Texas for work. She's pretty and well-liked but experiences a bit of culture-shock which is further exacerbated by several dates with a local would-be alpha male named Larry (Clayton Day). Young's Kathleen enjoys Larry's company well enough though she pauses at his fascination with firearms and his litany of conservative talking points. Things get genuinely ugly when Larry decides it's time to become more intimate despite Kathleen's protestations. Kathleen seeks help from the authorities but is ultimately driven to immerse herself in the gun culture so embraced by Larry and the surrounding community. This isn't as exploitative as it may sound and its narrative twists distinguish it from other rape/revenge stories - the result is something closer to a deep character study. Directed by Englishman Tony Garnett, Handgun brings a critical outsider's perspective at what passes for normal in many places in the US. Most importantly, Garnett seems to have been granted inside access to real locations and non-actors including local high schools and gun shops. This isn't meant to ridicule or even satirize as much as it feels like documentation of a society (perhaps betraying his frequent collaboration with Ken Loach). This is a tremendous piece of regional based filmmaking and hits every bit as hard today as it must have in the 80s. I haven't yet had a chance to listen to the commentary with Erica and Chris O'Neil but I can't wait to learn more about this one.

The Outside Man (1972) - Another case of Europeans traveling to the US and bringing an outside perspective to a uniquely American milieu. I've heard a variety of stories about the origin of this Jacques Deray L.A. crime/conspiracy movie but it does resemble a mood piece more than a strict thriller. Jean-Louis Trintignant plays a hired gun and Roy Scheider is cast as the man looking to clean things up after Trintignant wipes out a local crime boss. It's a cat and mouse pursuit throughout L.A. with Trintignant truly evoking the outsider in a world of go-go dancers, cruising down the strip, roller derby tournaments, and sun-kissed elites. I can understand this not being quite propulsive enough to sway the hardboiled crime fanatics but I was really taken with it. I have a deep affection for Deray's willingness to let things play out and not over-explain every last detail. I'll definitely be curious to know more about the production especially in the wake of The French Connection which came out the previous year. 

The Assassination/The French Conspiracy (1972) - Yves Boisset directed political thriller with an absolutely insane cast including Trintignant, Scheider (briefly), Michel Piccoli, Gian Maria Volonte, Michel Bouquet, Philippe Noiret, and Jean Seberg just to name a few. Assassination sounds better on paper than it is in execution - it runs a little long and yet the details can be a bit fuzzy if you're not familiar with the case in which it is based on. Still, I found it to be a totally worthwhile addition to Boisset's politically charged films - it is very much rooted in his critique of power and corruption. Undoubtedly this was meant to be a large prestige picture but doesn't quite hit the mark. I still enjoyed watching this absolute powerhouse of a cast and the Z like story of political machinations and the media courtesy of screenwriter Jorge Semprun.

Save the Tiger (1972) - Jack Lemmon's total showstopper of a performance as a garment industry hustler who has extended himself to the breaking point is reason enough to seek this out. The fact that it's also well directed by John G. Avildsen (still coming off of the scorching Joe and a few years before Rocky would change his career significantly) and the supporting cast is excellent doesn't hurt one bit. I had put this one off for ages for reasons I can't entirely remember but I'm happy to have finally gotten here. This is a touch theatrical but I like it when Lemmon leans into his stage persona and the performances are just too good to care.

Graveyard of Honor (1975) - Another brutal, nihilistic slice of Yakuza legend from the man himself, Kinji Fukasaku. This is based on the life of Rikio Ishikawa and told in a pseudo-documentary style which I think does some work grounding the piece. Tesuya Watari's Rikio is such an insanely self-immolating force of nature that it's helpful to know this is rooted in reality to an extent. One thing I found odd is that the early film testimonies from his friends and neighbors all mention how smart he is and then he doesn't do a single smart thing for the duration of the film. Still, he's totally mesmerizing in that way that Fukasaku anti-heroes tend to be. Not my favorite of his films but still damn good.

California Suite (1978) - I went to a production of Neil Simon's I Ought to be in Pictures while I was in NYC and this had led to a bit of catching up with film adaptations of Simon's plays. I have to wonder how this film would feel if it maintained Simon's original vignette structure instead of trying to overlap the different stories. I totally admire Herbert Ross' attempt to make a cohesive narrative out of the stories but I found myself resisting the transition between something as (brilliantly) acerbic as Fonda's performance, the bittersweet melodrama of Caine and Smith, and the slapstick violence of the Pryor/Cosby story. I also nearly forgot that Matthau was in the movie though once his story picks up with Elaine May it's quite good. Probably not where I would start with Simon adaptations, but with a cast this stacked, the time period, and the source material, it's very much my kind of movie.

Shot Pattern (1982) - The first of three movies collected in Fun City Editions' recent Seeing Red - 3 French Vigilante Thrillers set. Gerard Lanvin (who I watched in Exterior Night in March) stars as a flea market dealer who has his life upended when his girlfriend (Veronique Jannot who I watched in French Postcards in February) is attacked and killed on a train. Jean-Claude Missiaen was not a prolific director and isn't terribly well known in the US, but the talent involved in the making the film all feature prominently in movies I've loved and written about previously. Apparently this project was driven forward to an extent by director/cinematographer Pierre-William Glenn (LouLou, Serie Noire, Coup De Torchon), it was co-written by Claude Veillot (The Cop, Le Juge Fayard), and edited by Armand Psenny (Round Midnight, Watchmaker of St. Paul). You wouldn't be remiss expecting French Death Wish after reading the synopsis but Shot Pattern delivers a much different experience in its execution. Editing and jumping back and forth through time play a significant role in the story-telling. Rather than opening with a simplistic, heartwarming scene between the two leads interrupted by tragedy and resulting in hard-nosed vengeance - the film flashbacks continuously to their lives and establishes a much more substantial relationship between the two. Revenge is generally an easy thing for an audience to relate to which makes it such a well-used trope in filmmaking, but in Shot Pattern Missiaen doesn't take the audience's sympathies for granted. He takes the time to build out real characters so that we have a full understanding of the tragedy that has taken place. Another notable difference between Shot Pattern and its contemporaries is that the police (led by the incomparable Michel Constatin) are actually doing their job and doing it rather well. It's a sharp contrast to the either overwhelmed or apathetic authorities as featured in dozens of other vigilante films. These elements along with some plot beats that challenge the typical revenge narrative result in a film that is both satisfying as a thriller and has heartfelt emotional impact regarding how violence can shape our lives. Also, I was impressed with the portrayal of the "thugs" (including a young Dominique Pinon) who were potently believable in their depravity. This is another killer set from FCE and one I'll have to write at length about once I've devoured all three films.

Theatrical Screenings!

Samurai Reincarnation (1981) - My expectations for Samurai Reincarnation were through the roof the first time I put it on and how could they not be? Kinji Fukusaku directing a supernaturally tinged chanbara flick with Sonny Freaking Chiba as Jubei Yagyu facing a series of demonic martial artists including Tomisaburô Wakayama and Ken Ogata as an undead Musashi Miyamoto! What I found myself watching was in many ways much stranger and less satisfying. Fukasaku's economic storytelling and hyperkinetic delivery were out the window and instead exposition is achieved through a series of monologues and flashbacks which still seem insufficient to tie all of the various threads swirling around Reincarnation together. It seemed slow and the dogshit transfer I watched with bad cropping and subtitles wasn't doing it any favors. 

When I saw that Samurai Reincarnation would be playing at the Trylon I resolved to give it another shot hoping that a theatrical experience and realistic expectations would allow me to appreciate it better. I think I was right. It's still surprisingly languid in its pacing and while the details - mountains of corpses, demonic samurai, crucifixions, amazing actors - would lead you to think this is a total genre banger, the execution still feels more weird than thrilling. Having said that, I can appreciate the vibes which vary from oddball Shaw Bros. horror tales to something approximating a Fulci film. Lots of fog, impending dread, rubber band bass lines in a proggy soundtrack almost feel like something akin to The Beyond. However, Fukusaku's dalliance with the supernatural never seems to kick it into that gear which would make this a stone cold classic. IMDB rumor says this was meant to be a Hideo Goshi movie which maybe accounts for some of the disconnect. Certainly worth a visit and I'm glad I made time for a rewatch.

The Beast (2023) - Last year for MSPIFF, I attended so many movies that I wrote multiple posts dedicated to everything I saw at the festival. This year, I couldn't even get a response to my request for a press pass so that (combined with travel plans) meant I only caught a single film. Still, I'm happy to have come out for Bertrand Bonello's The Beast.  Very loosely based on a Henry James novella and then morphing that into a time warping, sci-fi rumination on existential dread featuring the masterful Lea Seydoux. I've been reading some lukewarm to positive reviews on this one, but I have to say that I was sucked into it. It's certainly sprawling and doesn't resolve neatly but the sheer anxiety channeled in this had me in its grip. The broad strokes of the themes have been exhaustively addressed - our humanity and our reality are being stripped away by modern circumstances. Films about this were being made a hundred years ago but The Beast feels no less poignant for it. Bonello's interpretation harvests uncertainty about AI, virtual reality, the pandemic, environmental collapse, superficiality, cultural stagnation, and our inability to connect and by weaving all of these uncertainties together manages to approximate the titular beast that haunts the edges of our psyches and lives in the pits of our stomachs. There are some very good scenes (including one that gave me legitimate chills - a rarity that I have to celebrate) and no terrible ones. I'll be giving this another watch for sure.

Bugged (1996) - Watched this as part of the Blood Brunch series at the Spectacle in Williamsburg. I have some real hesitancy around Troma in the mid/late 90s so I'm not sure when I would have gotten around to this had it not been a mystery screening. I found this relentlessly charming - the budget limitations are clear, the story is hardly groundbreaking, but the performances are earnest, there's some terrific shot ingenuity, and some of the cartoon-ish violence really lands. This was a particularly good movie to watch with an audience who laughed because the movie is pretty damn funny and not for performative irony. The Spectacle appears to have some fantastic programming - check them out if you're in the area.

Elevator to the Gallows (1958) - Caught this at The Metrograph in Chinatown. I hadn't been to the Metrograph for a long time and was happy they were showing one of my favorites. Gallows works so beautifully on the big screen and it was such a joy to lose myself in the rainy streets of Paris with Miles' incomparable score and Jeanne Moreau looking about as hopeless as anyone ever has. Extra points, as always, for a Lino Ventura appearance. 

From Beyond (1986) - Watched on 35mm at the Prospect Park Nitehawk Cinema. I have always loved From Beyond and seeing it on a big screen with Q&A from screenwriter Dennis Paoli was such a treat. So much goo, so much purple, so many of the great hands behind 80s practical effects contributing to this one. Whether you find it repellent or liberating, I love how Stuart Gordon, Paoli, and Brian Yuzna take Lovecraft's inherent squeamishness about the sexual and make it the glaring, neon purple text of the piece. Paoli had a brief slideshow that featured some production artwork from Gordon and I had no idea he was such an accomplished draftsman. Early on in my life, I had a fleeting dalliance with art school and I was always blown away by the artists trained in commercial illustration in the previous decades. Also, the Nitehawk and the Brooklyn Horror Society did a great job with this screening so hats off to em'