 Pauline was wrong on this done. Big time. Director: Tobe Hooper Writer: Steven Spielberg, Michael Grais, and Mark Victor Cinematographer: Matthew F. Leonetti Producer: Frank Marshall and Steven Spielberg by Jon Cvack Reading Pauline Kael’s 5001 Nights at the Movies (1982), she mentions how Spielberg came up with the story, re-wrote the script, storyboarded the shoot, and was heavily handed in the production. While the credits state a “Tobe Hooper Film”, it’s “A Steven Spielberg Production” and with all that in mind, it’s arguable that the only reason Tobe Hooper was brought in was to lend credibility to Spielberg’s relatively clean image. Similar to The Goonies (1985) or Band of Brothers (2001), the movie abides by Spielberg’s tone and style, demonstrating the power of one of Hollywood’s greatest filmmakers, who was only 36 years old at the time and every bit in command of the story. The movie has become a classic, serving as another testament to Spielberg’s prowess. The movie explores a world similar to E.T. (1982), taking place in the idyllic suburbs, where the uniform houses stand as far as the eye can see. In the middle of the night, the tv located in the family room of their home turns on, playing nothing but static. An awkward, wavy staircase heads up to the bedroom where husband and wife Diane and Steve Freeling (JoBeth Williams and Craig T. Nelson) sleep with their three children, Dana (Dominique Dunne), Robbie (Oliver Robins), and their youngest, Carole Anne (Heather O'Rourke) in their rooms; the last of which rises up and heads downstairs, hearing voices from the television set. The next day we see the familiar suburban sights - kids ride bikes in the streets, neighbors wash their cars and mow their lawns. Steve watches football inside with his buddies, smoking cigars and drinking beer; the channel is changed by the next door neighbor who has the same set. Steve tries to argue and get him to stop and it’s all just another day in the life of the suburbs; where the biggest problem is interruption to the football game and Diane discovering their pet bird dead, requiring her to explain death to the young Carole Anne. That night there’s a thunderstorm, where Robbie freaks out, staring at a massive, ghastly tree outside the window while Carole Anne overfeeds their fish. Diane and Steve are packed away in their room, where another television plays the news and they share a joint; laughing and stoned while Steve glances down at some pro-Reagan book. Steven attempts to calm Robbie, stating that the storm is blowing over. The television then lights up again, calling out to Carole Anne, who heads downstairs, pulled toward the set where her parents find her, delivering the infamous, “They’re here.” A massive 6.5 earthquake then follows. The next day, construction crews begin digging up the back yard to install an in-ground pool, again adding that more mature Spielberg touch as they sneak food from the kitchen, ogle at their teenage daughter who flips them off, and then proceeds with the mission. As mentioned in my thoughts on The Evil Dead (1981), I’ve been reading both Bazin’s What is Cinema? Vol. 1 (1967) and Munsterburg’s The Film: A Psychological Study (1916) and their theory about the “plastics” of cinema; that is, the physicality is what provides the dreamlike escape. As mentioned in my thoughts on Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (2013), Spielberg’s abandonment of physical effects has produced numerous films that have failed to provide the same immersive experience. Alongside Indiana Jones, this film epitomizes the idea, where while all this is going on, Diane is in the kitchen, cleaning up the breakfast table. In a single shot she notices the chairs have been pulled out, blaming Carole Anne, the camera pans with her returning to the sink and then back over and the chairs have been stacked on top of the table; shocking her. It’s such a simple gag but also incredibly creepy. The magic of moviemaking at its finest and simplest. From there, Diane waits for Steve to come home and demonstrates the spiritual entity that pushes her and Carole Anne along the floor toward where the kitchen table was. That night, the tree outside Robbie’s room crashes through the window, grabbing him and Carol Anne is sucked into the television. The family hires a family of parapsychologists, led by Drs. Martha Lesh (Beatrice Straight; a role which Pauline Kael thought was distractingly boring; I’m not following that one). They conclude that the spirits are poltergeists; confirmed when they enter Robbie and Carol Anne’s bedroom and find everything spinning in a cyclone, straining their credulity. It’s a creepy night as the team deals with hallucinations, glowing orbs, and moving steak cutlets. In one scene, one of the parapsychologists heads to the kitchen for snacks, pulling out a t-bone from the fridge which crawls along the countertop and then rots. Freaked, he heads into the bathroom, looks into the mirror and watches as his face melts (the film’s least effective gag; improved upon in Raiders of the Lost Ark). Later that night, as things calm down, Spielberg engages a brilliant and intimate moment between Diane, Robbie, and Dr. Martha, having them all whisper as the rest of the house sleeps, with Dr. Martha acting as the surrogate grandparent attempting to calm them down, specifically the young boy, explaining how the poltergeists are spirits that weren’t yet ready to head “into the light” and enter heaven; perhaps angry or unworthy. And that the spirits in their Carol Anne and Robbie’s bedroom could indeed be evil. Later, per the likes of Close Encounters, we see the glowing orbs come down the twisting staircase and we hear Carol Anne’s voice. They decide to head through their closet where the ghost portal resides, hoping to grab Carole Anne by throwing a rope through the closet which appears in the living room. Diane falls through, grabbing Carol Anne and the two are covered in pink ectoplasm; an effect that Ghostbusters (1984) would adopt seven years later. With Carol Anne rescued, the family decides to pack up and leave. The next day, Steve meets his boss to talk about the next phase of development; where Steve can get the best view in the neighborhood, overlooking the valley. The camera then pulls out, revealing a massive graveyard that will have to be dug up and transferred and Steven pieces it together; much of the neighborhood required the same extraction of the dead, including their current house. Heading out on business, Steve leaves to go quit his job while Dana heads off on a date, leaving Diane, Robbie, and Carole Anne alone where the evil attacks once again; a clown doll comes alive and attacks Robbie. Diane is attacked by invisible forces in a clever and terrifying scene, dragged across the ceiling of her bedroom and ending in the freshly dug up pool where the corpses rise, their bone and rotted skin hanging off, hidden in the water and she tries to climb out, grabbing her kids as Steve arrives back home and the old coffins and bodies that hadn’t been transferred rise up, and the house completely implodes. Like Jurassic Park (1994), the movie uses digital effects as a compliment; never trying to take design of complex or ornate elements, but rather using only lights and glows combined with practical light gags to amp it up. Everything else is practical; that is, it’s all plastic and therefore believable. Some might not be homeruns, but all of it is entertaining. It’s the type of movie that has become a classic because real elements don’t age like computer effects. They are timeless and require that filmmakers use the language of cinema to pull off the magic. Only the melting face could be considered bogus, but even that is fun enough to laugh at. I’m not sure why I’ve always thought this was some second tier movie, good but not great. This is one of the greatest horror films ever made; easily in the top twenty, maybe in the top ten. And for as much as I respect that Tobe Hooper contributed, this is a Spielberg movie and it’s no wonder that, yet again, he created a timeless piece of cinema. BELOW: One of simplest-creepiest scare gags Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page
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 My cousin's had this on once and this image alone gave me nightmares for weeks Director: Sam Raimi Writer: Sam Raimi Cinematographer: Tim Philo Producer: Robert Tapert by Jon Cvack I’m not sure the last time I’ve seen Evil Dead, recalling a moderately cheap indie film per the likes of Halloween (1978), The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974), or Friday the 13th (1981), and while it definitely has some cheap moments, it’s by far the greatest of the major franchise indie kickstarters; featuring craft and effects of the highest order, starting off with the gawkiness found in all of the “group of teens on a road trip” format, filled with cheap dialogue and bad coverage. But with the 16mm grain popping strong, saturating the colors as they drive deeper into the woods, what’s most effective with the movie is that Raimi knows there’s no use in wasting any time. At only 81 minutes, the only thing that matters is getting to the good stuff. And so they arrive at the cabin in the woods, hearing the bench swing bumping into the cabin as they exit out and make their way inside. They grab their rooms and Ash’s sister Cheryl (Ellen Sandweiss) draws a picture of a clock which stops in the middle of her illustration, her hand freezing up and becoming possessed and drawing what we learn is the Naturom Demonto. Later, Ash and his Scott device head down into a cellar to explore, discovering the Naturom Demonto, shotgun, and a tape recorder. They bring it up top and play the recording, discovering an academic researcher examining the Sumerian Book of the Dead, soon reading the incantation which triggers the dead and we get that signature handheld, ground level wide shot, rushing toward the home, with fog pouring out from the trees. Later that night, Cheryl hears some noises in the woods, and - against all logic - heads out alone to investigate, discovering the trees possessed by demons whose branches go on to rape her in what remains one of the most terrifying horror sequences in history. Breaking free, she runs back and demands that Ash take her back to town, which he reluctantly agrees to, finding the bridge to the cabin collapsed in what is an incredibly impressive set piece; the girders, metal, and wood seemingly collapsed into the ravine, trapping them in. Any great horror film operates from a simple premise - a deranged Texas family slaughters whoever arrives in town; a masked supernatural killer kills his sister’s friends in trying to find her; a monster living in dreams kills teens in their sleep; teens recreate the horror movies they grew up with, killing their friends; victims of some ornate lethal traps are forced to either escape or die; one night per week, for twelve hours, people are allowed to kill one another. The Evil Dead is the horror film that every aspiring filmmaker tries to recreate, whether aware of this movie or not. Four kids are stuck in a cabin as they’re attacked, whether by crazed rednecks or supernatural demons; a budget friendly plot as everyone knows someone with that cabin in the woods where the entire production can live for the shoot. To think it’s been nearly forty years since this movie was released and with the exception of maybe Cabin in the Woods (2011; maybe in that it was in no way an indie film; or all that great of a horror film, for that matter), no one has ever replicated the formula, as even Raimi himself would abide by the same plot for the sequel (albeit with bigger everything). From the bridge onward, everything in this film is perfect - the fog, the handheld demon POV, the creepy red lights rising from leaf filled forest floors, and of course the make up. I’m not sure why I assumed that this movie was as cheap as I remember. And while the first thirty minutes live up to my memory, the last two thirds are a thrilling, hilarious, and shocking amount of gore, violence, and fun; in which it was clear that Raimi had one mandate - make the make up and effects as ridiculous and over the top as possible, keep the energy high, and up the ante until the very last scene. Back at the cabin, Cheryl grows possessed, becoming a full fledged demon, stabbing Linda in the foot with the Sumerian dagger. They lock Cheryl in the cellar, provided just enough room for her to lift it up and reveal her head and essentially operating as the play by play host for the movie; taunting, degrading, and making fun of Ash and the others as they then battle Shelly after she’s attacked and becomes a demon who Scott then seemingly kills and Ash and Scott decide to bury the body rather than dismember it, who then rises from the grave and is decapitated by a shovel. It leads to the final sequence, as Cheryl escapes and Linda resurrects as a demons, with some of the most over the top and stunning gore from any movie from the period; with pools of blood, guts, and magnificent effects (especially for being such a low budget) providing both horror and hilarity, culminating in Ash tossing the Book of the Dead in the fire which freezes the demons who then melt down into a mess of blood, guts, and bones, rotting into mold, before turning to dust and blowing away. Reading both Bazin’s "What is Cinema? Vol. 1" (1967) and Munsterburg’s "The Film: A Psychological Study" (1916) before writing this, both writers refer to cinema’s “plastic” nature - that is, showing a true reeality that takes the effect of a logical dreamstate - is what differentiates it from other art forms. When similar effects are mimicked via computer, they don’t take on the same feel; we know they’re completely artificial and therefore they’re ineffective, unable to age due to the limits of the technology. Watching a movie like this, the fun is in how much more grotesque and absurd things will get, testing the limits of our ability to stomach them, knowing that this was created out of talented crafts people applying their best skills, given the limitations. It’s not at all what I remember, and might now be my favorite low budget indie horror debut of all time. BELOW: The performances. The effects. Perfection. Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Couldn't tell you what the plot is, but dang is it violent Director: Takeshi Kitano Writer: Hisashi Nozawa and Takeshi Kitano Cinematographer: Yasushi Sasakibara Producer: Shôzô Ichiyama, Toshio Nabeshima, and Takio Yoshida by Jon Cvack This is my first film from Takeshi Kitano who’s been called the Clint Eastwoood of Japan. Azuma is a suited police detective who’s willing to step far beyond the line of duty in order to bring down the bad guys. The first fifteen minutes is a long and dragged out sequence following Azuma as he moves from accosting kids to then beating the shit out of random alleged crooks. Somewhere in between his sister is kidnapped and Azuma presumes to hunt down those responsible. I started this film, got about a half in, couldn’t return to it for a week, started it over again and still had no idea what was going on. Once you catch onto the plot and how it’s completely insignificant, you realize that the movie is very much an exercise in stunts and violence. In one scene, Azuma breaks into an apartment. The camera then moves to the bottom of the apartment stairs where the man is then thrown down. It’s not that it looks real. It is real. The man could have broken his neck or cracked his head open and luckily rolled down the steps and into the railing. At only a quarter in, from there a film is one incredible sequence after another, with the plot serving little beyond a MacGuffin. In a bizarre scene, as Azuma and some other morally corrupt officers chase down a suspect in a car as he’s running down the street, rather than some intense action score, Kitano utilizes a smooth - or smoothish - jazz score. They then corner the guy who proceeds to take a pipe he finds and smash every single car window; the camera inside, all shot in a single take and the jazz doesn’t stop. Another scene involves a bird’s eye shot of another suspect on a roof, crawling forward, away from Azuma until he reaches the roof’s edge, flipping himself to drop off where in a long lens, we then look up from the ground floor as he hangs from the roof by his fingertips. Azuma then pulls out a switchblade and slices his fingers open which causes him to drop. By this point we’re convinced that Azuma is a complete psychopath and his police chief demands he hands over his gun and badge. It doesn’t stop him and the film culminates in a scene so brutal and intense it matches any of Tarantino’s bloodiest moments. After the sister has been getting raped and shot up with heroin for the last two hours, the crime boss proceeds to execute his lackies who refuse to fight the cops; blowing their heads off and stabbing them dead before Azuma tracks them down to an empty warehouse where the pair play a game of gun fight chicken; Azuma charging toward the man, getting struck with bullet after bullet before blowing the boss's head off; his sister then appearing from the shadows, scrounging to find some heroin and Azuma shoots her down.. Takeshi Kitano plays Azuma, and like Clint Eastwood, it looks like the majority of his films involved this type of renegade cop. The difference is in the brutality. While Eastwood and other hard boiled American films like this involve comparably violent scenes, Kitano limits his cuts, showing the violence in all its actuality, making it just absurd and entertaining enough to avoid it simply horrifying the audience. BELOW: Smooth jazz and violence Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Like Sliding Doors (1998), except about communism Director: Krzysztof Kieślowski Writer: Krzysztof Kieślowski Cinematographer: Krzysztof Pakulski Producer: Jacek Szelígowski by Jon Cvack Recently on a trip up to Donner Lake, we got into one of our many traditional debates about the Soviet Union and the rise of communism. I’m fascinated with the rise of totalitarian regimes - Hitler, Stalin, and Mussolini and how these men rose by convincing others to give them power, which they used to subvert democracy. Reading Richard J. Evans’ The Coming of the Third Reich (2005) or Hanna Arendt’s The Origins of Totalitarianism (1973) function as both history and horror story; showing how awful the world could become when the right conditions create paths for authoritarian leaders. When it comes to the divide of capitalism and socialism, I’m more on the economic democracy side. I believe workers should have more rights and that the most wealthy nation on Earth - like any good private company - could provide some amazing benefits to its people. Public health care, accessible education, family leave, and a safety net that does all it can to prevent anyone from living on the streets, going hungry, or bankrupt due to medical costs. These are open ideas, and as the Democratic party has a debate on its platform, I’m seeing more and more partisans coming out of the woodwork. Neo-liberals who shun Biden as too old school and Warren and Sanders as demagogues. I see radical Bernie supporters now disparaging Warren with Clinton-esque critiques, when they could just support both as being far more in accord to their philosophy than the other side. Then there’s the pragmatic Biden supporters who see anything beyond a centrist approach as endangering their chances of pulling in enough Republican votes. It is a battle between returning to the status quo, pushing new ideas, or pushing far more significant ones. I find the partisanship frightening; that even when against Donald Trump, people feel the need to denigrate each other over who they like, when instead they could all just talk about actual ideas with open minds, vote for who they want, and hope the goal lines align with their individual philosophies. When the Bolsheviks overthrew the Soviet Monarchy during the October Revolution, they paved the way for a true communist state that would enact Marx’s vision. What they failed to see was how an immoral government - being in control of the means of production - could exploit the workers far worse than any free market system. It’s an example of the dangers of partisanship - in which all it took for one sect to triumph over the others was a willingness to kill the opponents; who were allies, at first, and then became divided over how far to go. Those willing to take action triumphed, almost immediately corrupting the very government they ceased. Thus it’s not necessarily the ideas that necessarily failed, so much as the corrupt individuals who covet power. Blind Chance portrays this type of world where secret police take people away in the middle of the night, party men act in bad faith in an effort to both survive and maintain power, and the country grows increasingly unstable all the while. The story follows a young man Witek (Bogusław Linda) who’s on a plane and screams “No!” before the movie cuts to a POV of a young child sitting between his mother’s legs as he watches an orderly drag a bloody body across the floor; an image that’s increasingly cut back to throughout the film. We then meet Witek as a medical student, who starts dating a woman named Olga (Monika Gozdzik). However, after his father dies, Witek loses faith in his career and decides to drop out, running to catch a train which he grabs just in time after bumping into a man with a beer. Similar to Sliding Doors (1998; of all movies), it’s this train sequence that will kick off three different versions of Witek’s life which led to his death in the airplane. On the train, Witek meets an elderly ommunist Werner (Tadeusz Łomnicki) who recruits Witek to the party, soon meeting his first love and anti-communist Czuszka (Bogusława Pawelec) who soon learns Witek’s part of the resistance. Witek attempts to win her favor by visiting a sit-in at a local hospital where the members plan to burn it to the ground; thwarted by Witek and the partrymen who instead send Witek on a secret mission to France which is canceled at the last minute. The second scenario involves Witek slamming into the man with the beer back at the train station, running off and then slamming into a rail guard and knocking him over; missing the train as a result. He’s sentenced to community service where he soon joins an anti-communist group and meets up with some old friends from childhood; later becoming a devout Christian - something we don’t often associate with the anti-authoritarian resistance. At one point, when he starts sleeping with his old friend Weva, she asks if truly believes the cause. With full and absolute conviction, Witek says he does. Trying to run away to France, Witek applies for a passport which is rejected due to his anti-communist ties. The party offers to grant it so long as he provides his fellow member’s location. The next day, he’s dragged over to the barracks, finding everyone gone and the place ransacked; his friend Daniel suspicious of what Witek offered. The third and final scenario involves Witek bumping into the man with the beer, but instead of ignoring the collision, turns around and apologizes, again failing to catch the train. Witek returns home to Olga and resumes his medical studies, soon getting pregnant and later Witek takes up a job as a teacher. He refuses to join any political organization, going so far as to refuse to sign a petition brought to him by some students accusing the dean’s son of distributing illegal materials. The dean then offers Witek a trip to Libya who agrees, finding out moments before leaving that Olga is pregnant with another child, but when the plane takes off - returning us to the opening scene - it explodes and he dies. It’s been almost three weeks since I’ve finished the film and unfortunately many of the details have been lost. Kieslowski’s mastery is in ensuring that every single moment remains as cinematic as possible; maximizing the frame and information to fully immerse us within the world. In dozens upon dozens of cutaways we see bits and pieces of information that all add up into creating beautiful scenes and a flawless narrative. Nothing is wasted. Even the tiniest details feel deliberate. The ironic ending in having an apolitical Witek finally meet his fate prevents the film from ever soaring above politics. It has a position, but also shows the obstacles within each position. In scenario one he loses his first love for swearing loyalty to the party before her and yet survives. In scenario two we see the complexity in the fight for freedom. When faced with escape, Witek both betrays his friends and his idol Jesus’ philosophy, but also survives. It’s when Witek does nothing and takes no position that he meets his ultimate demise. Kieslowksi doesn’t seem to be making any grand moral statement so much as showing the risk of inaction. Most won’t actually die, but some could, never living a life for anything beyond himself. Then again, up until Mitek’s life, he was living the life that most aspire to. Was that worth just a few more years versus surviving forever? Like his other great films, Blind Chance demands multiple viewings before ever offering the confidence to take a position; it’s that type of complex film where there’s just far too much to take in in a single sitting. BELOW: Great score from Wojciech Kilar Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Living Dead Girl? Director: Hayao Miyazaki Writer: Hayao Miyazaki Cinematographer: Hisao Shirai Producer: Toru Hara by Jon Cvack I remember the first time I experienced cinema was junior year after meeting a sophomore cinephile who I met at the high school film festival. Per the usual curse, my best friend Tim and I hadn’t made any film to enter, but decided to sit there and criticize the screeners. Until the sophomore cinephile’s short played, containing a kinetic and amazing energy, and I realized I might have found a fellow film buff. We talked and he soon told me about three of his favorite films that I had to see - Once Upon a Time in the West (1968), which provided the greatest intro I’ve ever seen and still struggle to think of anything better; Amadeus (1984) which I haven’t yet revisited but enjoyed: and Spirited Away (2001), which not being a big fan of animation, I liked, but didn’t entirely follow. I’m ashamed to say that My Neighbor Totoro is only the second film I’ve watched from Hayao Miyazaki, though it was after my friend demanding I watch Cowboy Bebop (1998) that my interest piqued in anime (the friend went so far as to ship me his DVD collection from Chicago), I moved onto Ghost in the Shell (1995) and Akira (1988) which both blew my mind. I was excited to check out the legend, whose work is completely and utterly adored by his fans. It’s the story of a husband Shigesato Itoi (voiced in English by Tim Daly) and his two daughters Mei Kusakabe (voiced by Elle Fanning) and Satsuki Kusakabe (voice by Dakota Fanning) who move out to the country to both be closer to their mother who’s dying a long term illness (which taking place in 1958 could very well be radiation poisoning), and for the girls to get a change of scenery from the big city. Arriving at their farmhouse, the family meets both a young boy Kanta Ōgaki (voice by Paul Butcher) who immediately crushes on Satsuki; told through intimidation, and his Granny (voiced by Pat Carroll). The girls discover these strange large black dust bunnies which the Granny calls susuwatari - essentially a dust-like house spirit. One day, Mei discovers two abbit-penguin looking ghosts that lead her deep into the woods and through a tunnel where she meets the film’s title character Totoro (voiced by Frank Welker) - a gigantic version of the rabbit-penguin monster - is found sleeping on his back. Mei lays upon his belly, soon falling asleep. Mei tries to tell her sister and dad who don’t believe her and so the family continues to live; settling into the house, visiting their sick mother, and Tatsuo working on his lectures. One evening, while waiting for Tatsuo as his bus runs late and it begins to rain, a cat-bus hybrid machine creature rolls up and Tutoro exits. He protects them from the rain and they lend him their father’s umbrella. In exchange he provides them almond seeds. He then leaves with the cat-bus and their father arrives, explaining how he missed his ride back home. The girls plant the seeds and wait for them to grow, but it doesn't look like they will, until one evening they find Totoro and his other ghost friends doing a ceremonial dance around the garden. The girls join them and the trees explode into the air, creating a gigantic forest. They grab onto Totoro and fly up to the canopies, enjoying their creation, then waking up to find it was all a fantasy; though the seeds have finally sprouted. With their mother due to arrive home soon, complications arise and Tatsuo takes off from the hospital; leaving the girls under the care of granny. Mei can’t handle the news and runs away, vowing to make the three hour journey alone back to her mother. Satsuki, Granny, Kanta and the rest of the neighbors assemble to go and try and find her, but as it grows darker, and they find one of her shoes in a nearby pond, fearing the worst. Desperate, Satsuki returns to the camphor tree where she begs Totoro and the other little ghosts for help. Thrilled, they call upon the catbus who picks them all up, jetting across the farmlands. They find Mei sitting on a bench in the middle of nowhere, taking them all to the hospital, discovering that it was only a minor cold that set the mother back, now healthy. By the end, I enjoyed the more fantastical elements, but I didn’t really get what this was about. Two girls see some ghost creatures that none of the adults see, which the Granny might know about, all while mother is incredibly sick in the hospital. It’s often my problem with cartoons. Similar to surrealism, it allows anything to exist or be possible. The girl’s needed distraction and guidance and found the monsters who helped Satsuko find Mei in the end. I’m not sure what the point of a catbus was, or how Mei crawling through the tunnel of an imaginary camphor tree led her to the monsters, or what the point of almonds and their attempt to grow almond trees were all about. They were just great uses of the imagination; images that have still burned themselves into popular culture given how many Totoro toys I’ve seen. However, it was reading about the film that there seems to be a possible reading. Kotaku links to an article from the website fellowof, which states: The rumor says that Totoro is the God of Death, so the persons that can see Totoro are actually close to death, or already dead. What that means for the story is that when Mei goes missing and a sandal is found in the pond, Mei actually drowned. When Satsuki is asked about the sandal she cannot face the truth and lies about it not being Mei’s sandal. So Satsuki goes on a desperate search for Totoro, calling for him and actually opens up the door to the realm of the dead herself. With Totoro’s help she finds her dead sister and they together go to their mother’s hospital. There, the only one who actually noticed that the sisters were there, was the mother, who also soon is going to die... And in the ending scene, Satsuki and Mei don’t have any shadows... Kotaku goes on to point out that there’s a famous murder Samaya Incident which became a popular media story in 1963 Japan. My Neighbor Totoro takes place in the Samaya Hills. The story also takes place in May; with Satsuki’s name translating to “May” and Mei being self-explanatory. Studio Ghibli went on to deny the rumors, but the connections do seem oddly apparent. There’s a peculiar darkness to the film; as though the ghosts are not just showing the sisters a good time, but distracting them from their mother’s illness. There isn’t necessarily anything to corroborate that what the girls see is true. Maybe the susuwatari were actually just dust bunnies soon cleaned out of the house once they all arrived; maybe Mei’s fantasy of crawling through the camphor tree was all just a dream; and maybe the two fell asleep at the bus stop rather than momentarily meeting Totoro and the catbus (after all, what was the point of this sequence if not as a type of brief dream before their father arrived). It is creepy that no one beyond the mother addresses Mei, given that the whole neighbor has been searching for her. Or that even though the mother has been hospitalized for months that a small cold is all that prevented her from coming home. At the very least, it’s easy enough to imagine that she lied about the cold, and that she might be coming home to spend her remaining days with the family. In which, whether death or a guiding spirit from the other world, the idea does tie the story together. Planting the seeds of life, making them one with nature, it does appear as though they’re preparing either both or one of the girls for death. Of course, this all might be speculation and Ghibli is honest in his denial, but I’m then left wondering what this movie is about, and why so many people would love it if not for containing some deeper meaning. BELOW: Great scene. Could be about death Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Easy enough metaphor Director: Mark Rydell Writer: Robert Dillon and Julian Barry Cinematographer: Vilmos Zsigmond Producer: Robert Cortes and Edward Lewis by Jon Cvack Continued from Part 1... Even with all this, there’s still Mae who attempts to keep up the farm, home, and her children; still pursued by Joe Wade and doing her best to respectfully reject his passes to avoid risking their crop sales come next season. I even appreciate that Joe never crosses that line that seems so expected from 80s cinema. The film never wants to push an individual side. It’s disrespectful for Joe to approach Mae, but he’s really just a bro asshole. Not someone we hope dies or is killed. It’s the peak of Scott Glenn’s power; taking it up to the line, but never crossing over and allowing the final scene to play to the best of its ability. Before getting to the end, Mae has an equally thrilling scene to the labor sequence, as while working on the tractor one afternoon, it breaks down. Earlier, Tom had returned a defective brand new hose on his tractor, struggling to find a replacement as it’s so old. Mae experiences a different mechanical problem, finding the piece and going to replace it when the gears start spinning, trapping her arm between the chain and gear, with blood pouring out of her forearm. In fairness, it’s not the best looking effect, but given that it’s the film’s one element I can criticize, it nevertheless provides a thrilling sequence as some delivery men show up to drop off grain, failing to hear her screams and then moving off. In a striking sequence I can’t even begin to understand how they shot, one of their cattle comes by which Mae antagonizes until it starts ramming into the tractor, loosening the gears until finally releasing her arm. Gear trap aside, the sequence is striking; the type of cinematic moment that you feel burned into your mind as images of her trapped arm, the hot summer sun, and the cow’s violence charging all melt into as thrilling a sequence as good as any Hitchcock. Of course, the rain soon follows and the river floods again, though instead of Tom and his family working alone, his neighbors help, once again bulldozing the land to create a dam. Pissed that Tom and the others aren’t going to sell the farm, Joe Wade gathers his scabs and plans to force the sale by destroying the dam and flooding the fields. After Wade arrives, one of the men throws a small bomb that blows a hole in the dam, prompting Tom to grab his shotgun and load it up, demanding Wade and the others get off their land. The man from the factory who attempted to escape then attempts to prevent anyone from fixing the breach. Tom fires a warning shot and the man freezes. Gibson’s eyes - most reminiscent from Braveheart (1995) - show that he is not kidding. He will shoot the man and anyone else who fails to get off his land. It’s a moment that I think might send the left wing anti-gun radicals (I’m talking the people who want to abolish the second amendment) into epilepsy. Here was a hero of the working man showing the right to stand their ground; using the finest piece of freedom, that is the right to own land, to prevent anyone from taking it away; whether the big government the right might fear, or big business bloodless capitalists on the left. In a scene that shouldn’t work but somehow does, Tom then gets into his tractor and pushes Joe Wade’s expensive Jeep into the blown pit, jumping into the water with sandbags to block it up, causing the others to create an assembly line as they feed him dirt. Ending on Joe Wade who delivers the final sand bag, immediately realizing his mistake and somehow providing redemption for a character that would typically never have any; at least not so far as to assist his alleged enemy. The moral of the story could be discussed for hours, ranging from the dangers and greed of excess to the ways in which it infects governments and communities, to a philosophy of marriage and parenting, to the principles of labor and ownership. It played as the perfect film, combining ideas and images that not only demand a second viewing, but make you hungry for one. The type of movie that makes you want to call all your friends over for the experience. It’s a movie for any fan of Bernie Sanders or Elizabeth Warren, reflecting the spirit of the working family. Being from the 1980s, you have to appreciate how progressive Mae’s character was for the era; not as some dependent farmer wife, but as a completely independent and integral worker. The marriage had parity, if not even tipping a bit more in Mae’s direction as Tom succumbed to jealousy. It provides a brilliant motivation for Tom, never taking forefront but always demonstrating his love for his wife. I was left thinking of Malle’s God’s Country (1985), which followed a bunch of farmers from 1979 and into the early 80s recession; demonstrating how Reagan’s policies impacted their lives amidst an era of rapid corporate consolidation. I wouldn’t be surprised if Mark Rydell had watched Malle’s film, or if like American Fable (2016), it’s simply one of those forgotten stories. We don’t often think about how farmers used to work, as now with the endless mergers, many are run like fast food chains, having to abide by a strict workflow in order to stay partnered with the megafarms. From my shaky memory, the crippling of regulations during a recession allowed massive farmers to consolidate and buy up their smaller competition. In Joe Wade's case, wiping out the obstacles standing in his way in order to make room for a state of the art dam facility that’ll make him rich beyond imagination. The River portrays another time, which for being in the 80s seemed so recent and yet is fading into history. Back when independent farmers could survive as climate change exhibited its earliest signs. There’s so much talk about these types of workers who are courted during political campaigns; from the left and the right, which while one being more honorable show their dishonor by failing to see their fellow man. As of writing this, Trump’s tariff battle with China is finally taking root, and once again we see farmers struggling to move their crops and be forced into bankruptcy. It leaves you wondering if another massive sell off and merger will take place; further consolidating land in the name of a few rather than the many. Some will get ahead, others will refuse to sell, and most will lose their autonomy. The left fears it to the rich and the right fears it to the government; all while the two become further entrenched. The problem is so severe that it causes their passionate philosophies to never give an inch, when if they just somehow looked fairly at the problem, it could probably make things better for all. The River shows what happens when things continue to go down the current path and why we should appreciate all freedoms; however bad they might seem. BELOW: Slim pickings on YT so here's Sissy talking about the flick Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Gotta find it on Bluray Director: Mark Rydell Writer: Robert Dillon and Julian Barry Cinematographer: Vilmos Zsigmond Producer: Robert Cortes and Edward Lewis by Jon Cvack As mentioned with School Ties (1992), there’s a sadness I get every time I discover a good film I’ve never heard of, knowing that the chances of discovering the next one just got a bit lower. A week since seeing it, I’m confident in saying The River is the greatest American film I’ve never heard of. It’s the type of filmmaking that fails to exist today; in which big money could still tell intimate stories about seemingly small characters but within a grand environment; where there is no image wasted that doesn’t expand and progress the story forward, fully actualized by Vilmos Zsigmond. The River’s intro is up there with Once Upon a Time in the West (1968), featuring a young boy fishing on a small creek, as rain begins to fall. We watch as the water flows through the creek, hills, and crops and make its way to its parenting river which rises. It cuts to the corn stalks in muddy fields, soon overtaken by the rising waters and then we cut to the Garvey family; trying their best to dam up the water by driving bulldozers through the land; struggling to outpace the bulging waters as they break through the mounds. The tractor then tips over, trapping Tom Garvey’s (Mel Gibson) leg underneath and the water rushes in. His wife Mae (Sissy Spacek) and their neighbor jump in to help and in a scene as though straight out of Hard Rain (1998) - that is every bit as thrilling and credible - we watch as they rush to get Tom free. While thankful for his life, he also realizes his crops are completely destroyed, the house is damaged, and that he’ll have to go deeper into debt for repairs. It’s an opening scene which is perfect cinema; as though lifted straight from Steinbeck. Using only images the excitement builds, from a beautiful day to a torrential and catastrophic rainstorm; slowly building bit by bit until we grasp the gravity and then move into the characters who break the natural images with a noisy and dangerous tractor; digging trenches through the ground and destroying everything in sight. It plays like a monster scene; attempting to tame some wild beast and getting trapped in the process. The next day, we meet the one wealthy distributor in town, Joe Wade (Scott Glenn) as he gives a helicopter tour of the flood to a state senator. The images are incredible, featuring actual flooded farms; surrounded by the brown water which buries the fields below. Clearly director Mark Rydell and Vilmos Zsigmond headed to actual flood sites to catch the footage. Joe explains that the damage is done, and as floods occur more frequently, the place is perfect for a water dam; best to just let the area flood. The only problems are the farmers who refuse to sell their property. Still, with the recent flood taking its toll, farmers have decided to auction off their equipment and land, with most of the background characters looking like they had to have been cast from the area. However, most refuses, uninterested in buying up another family’s land or equipment for pennies on the dollar for their own benefit. The scene is intercut with Tom at the bank, where we learn that he’s delinquent on thousands of dollars from last year’s crops and is now asking for a loan to cover the present year. The banker explains that it’s impossible to repay, suggesting he look into selling his farm in order to cut his losses; maybe even to Joe Wade. It’s yet another brilliant sequence that provides the stakes we’re going to be following; that most in the area are struggling with losing everything they own and still refuse to give up. With Joe Wade having the one market in town, he sets the prices every day however he wishes as the farmers drive up with their loads, hoping for upward movement. After the flood, Joe Wade sets prices low, enraging the farmers who declare it’s less than they spent on the crops. Wade doesn’t budge. It’s never specifically mentioned, but the suggestion is clear enough; he can starve the farmers out and then claim their land for even cheaper. Earlier, outside the bank Joe Wade approaches Mae and propositions her, explaining how he could take good care of her and the kids. I can’t remember where I saw it but a reviewer called Sissy Spacek as the purest actor we had from the heartland (or something along those lines). There’s a complete and vivid honesty about her presence; as though she’s both acting and being in equal parts. She has no interest in Joe, yet expresses the subtlest suggestion of imagining the life he could provide for their children. You can’t help but admire how well Scott Glenn plays a slimeball; never allowing us to all hate him, always having the charm to make us suspect he might be a good guy (Backdraft (1991) is the other film that comes to mind). The subplot also provides a beautiful dynamic between Tom and Mae, as Tom tries his hardest to contain his jealousy, with Mel Gibson’s eyes revealing he feels. He too understands the temptation. Not that he thinks there’s love so much as a better life that he’s failing to provide; where rivers don’t stand to completely wipe out their home. It’s when Tom forgets to pick up Mae while working on the house, and Joe then offers her a ride that we see the complexity of Tom’s feelings. He’s not worried that his wife is going to leave him and it’s her loyalty that creates the passions. The two make love in the kitchen; kicking their youngest son out. Nothing more than a kiss is shown and still the passion burns off the screen. The Garveys return home and attempt to rebuild their farm and recover whatever they can of the crops while preparing for the next year, though with no money, it’s impossible to survive. Tom is forced to go take a factory job and so begins one of the most thrilling chapters of the film and what I think stands up to some of the greatest cinematography from the period. Tom meets his other temp workers and they all hop on a truck, expecting honest work and then discovering a worker’s strike; with the labor immediately assaulting them with rocks, sticks, and whatever else they can find. They realize they’re the scabs. Unfamiliar as pertaining to union workers, I never understood the concept of scab years ago. It seemed like if people refused to work in order to get better pay than others who were willing to work for less should be able to. This film takes a brilliant approach by demonstrating both sides, but doing so from a place of empathy. The situation is expressed through a series of wide images that you rarely see anymore; where there is always motion, movement, and depth within the screen. We move from the terrifying factory, where the less skilled workers attempt to preserve the level of quality. It’s the type of work that is hardly even possible to capture today; serving as that rare type of film as historical document; capturing a period in time when productions such as The Deer Hunter or Rudy could still find such old factories to shoot in, demonstrating how dangerous they were. It isn’t long before one worker gets seriously injured and the company starts to understand the liability. From there we enter the barracks where the men are forced to live and sleep; with skinny bunk beds stacked up, reminding me of a battleship or submarine. It’s the type of shot reserved only for the highest level of filmmaking. We don’t need to see the entire space and all of the crew and cast and money it’d take to fill it up rather than just getting right to the conversation. But it further immerses us into the world, allowing us to experience the claustrophobia. The men are of course free to leave. Only problem is they won’t receive any security as they’re forced to walk through the picketing union workers outside. It’s the management’s ostensible method of enslavement. Sure they can leave, they just might not survive to work another day. Nevertheless, on one particular evening, a young man attempts to break out, attempting to climb the fence when Tom and his other buddies rush up to stop him. Too late, they’re forced to hop over, where the film then almost takes the tone of a Romero zombie film as workers come out of the darkness and attack the scab labor before they finally break free. It’s a strange film where the tone of each moment plays completely unique to different genres while blending all together. Out of nowhere, the scab labor are assembled and told that they’re no longer needed. Management has reached a deal. In one of the most thrilling scenes I can recall watching from the last few years, the company then tells the scab labor that they’ll have to walk out. The company cannot even afford the trucks to take them to safety. That, or the labor demanded it; requiring that the scab labor walk through them. I had no idea what to expect beyond the obvious, except when the gates opened up and we saw the police, you wondered how deep it went. The police were there to keep the workers at bay, but what would happen once the workers were appeased and they all could unite behind assaulting the scab labor; especially when earlier in the film we see that not all workers are righteous; and that bad people exist on all sides. It’s enough to make us question what happens - not that Tom will die, but how badly will he suffer, then forced to go back home with the little he earned and deal with the next flooding. As the scab labor walks out, surrounded by the workers, with police looking like they’ll remain on the sidelines should anything occur. Instead the union labor opens up the road and lets them pass. Even so, it doesn’t take long for the crowd to begin howling insults, soon throwing fruit and vegetables, and one spitting in Tom’s face. In terms of how labor is presented in movies, this must be the most nuanced film I’ve ever seen. BELOW: No clips on the YT so here's the trailer Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  80s Rohmer is my favorite Director: Eric Rohmer Writer: Eric Rohmer Cinematographer: Bernard Lutic Producer: Margaret Ménégoz by Jon Cvack I’ve really enjoyed Eric Rohmer’s 80s films thus far, with Pauline at the Beach being the first film I checked out from the series. Boyfriends and Girlfriends is a similarly simple movie, involving a cast of four characters - two girls, Blanche (Emmanuelle Chaulet) and Léa (Sophie Renoir) and two boys, Fabien (Eric Viellard) and Alexandre (François-Eric Gendron). Taking place over a period of a few years, the story’s divided into a series of random and significant moments, often taking place in a single location. Blanche is new to town, shy, and doesn’t know anyone, soon meeting the charming and beautiful Léa and the two become quick friends. Léa is dating the equally charming and handsome Alexandre, who soon develops an attraction to Blanche, who later develops an attraction to Alexandre, who keeps dating Léa, until she then dumps him, leading Alexandre and Blanche to hook up without telling her; all while the rich, initial douchebag Fabien tries to pursue both women, first ending up with Blanched and leaning more toward Léa, who he ends up with in the end. At only four characters, the plot never gets all that confusing. If I have anything wrong, it’s simply because I watched the film two weeks ago and the details have grown hazy. The film isn’t about the lies and deceit so much as four characters attempting to navigate their complicated love lives and passions and dealing with all of the ethics that come along with it. It’s about watching the players react, deceive, and struggle to tell those around them the truth. With such a fragmented structure, it allows each scene to build on the next, though never accelerating into melodrama. The academy frame punches up the geometric shapes often seen in the background - from offices to architecture, even the pier near the lake features sharp angles and shapes. The 80s garb reminds you how few period films today have caught its look. Erich Rohmer is one of the rare filmmakers who graduated perfectly into color; somehow maintaining his voice even if what’s in the frame looks so little like his older work. The guy can be a creep at times, and his movie might just make the Bechdel Test by an inch (even with two women central characters), but what it does explore feels honest and real, as though his style and insight continue to evolve. BELOW: A nice taste of the fashion Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Didn't even remember the film until I looked up a photo Director: Rainer Werner Fassbinder Writer: Rainer Werner Fassbinder, Pea Fröhlich, and Peter Märthesheimer Cinematography: Xaver Schwarzenberger Producer: Horst Wendlandt by Jon Cvack I’m still waiting for the next Fassbinder film to blow my mind - all I’ve loved thus far is Ali, Fear Eats the Soul (1974). Berlin Alexanderplatz (1980) was about eight hours too long, and I can’t remember anything from The American Soldier or The Bitter Tears of Petra Von Kant. I’m more convinced it was his sheer volume of filmmaking - 25 films over 17 years; 23 by the time he was 32. He’d die at 37 - which prevented all that many films from really shining; given that some were made in a matter of months from script to screen. There never quite seems to be the coherence or economy of a more carefully crafted picture. They often just felt imagined and immediately executed. Lola is at least the second best I’ve seen, part of the “BRD Trilogy” which follows three “remarkable” women (according to Criterion). Lola is the title character played by the brilliant (Barbara Sukowa) who works at a brothel, owned by a local property developer, the chain cigar smoking aristocrat, Schukert (Mario Adorf) who just so happens to lead the corrupt endeavor, ensuring that all of the major government players are properly taken care of. That is until the new commissioner, Von Bohm(Armin Mueller-Stahl), arrives in town and vows to end the corruption. Recently divorced, his housekeeper introduces him to her daughter Lola, who he falls in love with and attempts to court against her better warnings. Soon he discovers the truth and after failing to reform the city, he returns to the brothel and attempts to pay her for sex. She refuses, though they later make up and get married. One of the closing scenes is Lola on her wedding day, sneaking with Schukert to sleep with him in the barn. Similar to his other films, Lola left me with an empty and hollow feeling; as though the world is completely devoid of true love or attraction and all Fassbinder saw were the self-centered personas of some pretty interesting characters; never attempting to follow them as they change, but to only show them as they are. There are interesting moments and memorable scenes, specifically when Baraba Sukowa breaks down in song after losing Von Bohm. Allegedly Sukowa had done it in a single take, as Fassbinder hated to shoot more than one take for any scene. As impressive as the performance is, that anecdote also seems to explain his films. We never get to see the greatest that is deliberate, but rather the first idea, the first take, the first course of action. I’m sure there’s another Fassbinder film that I’ll enjoy, but I’d bet there won’t be many. BELOW: A taste of Barbara Sukowa's talent Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  One of action cinema's all time greatest characters Director: James Cameron Writer: James Cameron; story by James Cameron, David Giler, and Walter Hill Cinematographer: Adrian Biddle Producer: Gale Anne Hurd by Jon Cvack Aliens is a movie that I’ve seen at least three times, but had so spread out those individual viewings that I always forget what exactly happened in the story. It has long been one of the most divisive films amidst the sequel versus original debate; originalists love the horror film and progressives adore the action sequel. I’m more on the fence, finding them both near perfect films, though if pressed, I'd go with Aliens. There are certain movies that make me sad with how good they are; knowing that nothing like them could exist ever again, back when the only place you could ever see this movie the way it was meant to be seen was in the theater and before the complete reliance on computer graphics; when watching a film was about seeing real things used to create a world. About a month back, my friend lent me the Blade Runner (1982) BluRay. I’ve put off watching the famous Final Cut ever since my first viewing, convinced it couldn’t be all that different from whatever version I’d seen and hadn’t loved. What I saw this time around was one of the best at home movie watching experiences I’ve had in a long while. Without getting into the details, one of the movie’s greatest elements is the world they built through practical effects. Every single effect, no matter how extravagant, was in camera, from complex matte paintings to the sets and practical miniatures. Not a single piece of this movie was executed with computers and somehow it looks better than the vast majority that do. Aliens provides a similar practical overload, building an entire intricate alien planet and designing beautiful model ships to explore. I’m not sure which versions I’ve seen, but my BluRay collection came with the Director’s Cut, introduced by James Cameron and I assume (through the images which accompany his intro) that the meat of the extended scenes involve the crew discovering Ripley fifty years into the future and the way she adjusts back to life and learns about her daughter and age rather than getting straight to the alien planet as quickly as possible. What I missed the last time were the politics I should’ve expected from Cameron. Paul Reiser (who I didn’t even remember being in the film; perhaps due to the once deleted scenes) plays Carter J. Burke, a representative from the Weyland-Yutani Corporation who’s committed to maintaining the company’s investment versus ensuring the colony’s safety. Ripley goes before a review board where her peers sit smoking in disbelief of the story about a killer alien creature; not going so far as to fully blame her, but enough to take away her pilot license. When they learn that the colony has gone dark, Weyland-Yutani organizes a group of marines to head down to explore the situation. Burke admonishes Ripley to join them in order to lend her expertise about the possible alien creature. So kicks off what I remember most about the films, as the marines, led by 80s sci-fi action star Dwayne Hicks (Michael Biehn) and joined by the wild mouthed, though absolute coward, Private Hudson (Bill Paxton). So begins what I remember most from the film, as the marines assemble onto the ship and recreate the modern D-Day landing scene which would go on to be replicated on and on from everything from Edge of Tomorrow (2014)and Starship Troopers (1997) to Medal of Honor and the first Call of Duty. It remains one of the best, as Cameron’s magnificent use of miniatures, both on the Exomoon and the ship itself are expertly crafted and fully believable and real. There are fully functional armored trucks and tanks, in which one family pulls a bit too close to the alien spacecraft. Aliens might have one of the greatest minor plots of an alien action movie, taking place in a colony overtaken by the alien creatures. That in itself could be a great movie, and I’m left wondering how much more interesting that could be rather than where the series has gone. Either way, it’s little more than a MacGuffin to get the marines down to the planet. However, this is also where the narrative shifts from what I remembered as a non-stop action shoot out between the soldiers and the aliens, which it is (up to the first third), then shifts into a type of alien-slasher film hybrid where the soldiers are slowly hunted down and killed off one by one. Subsequent films would either focus far too much on the mythology or action; often sacrificing all of one for the other. Cameron continues the story, leading us to a mother-bee alien whose children rounded up the colony to act as hosts for additional aliens to hatch. In the film’s climactic sequence, they initiate a nuclear warhead before battling the mother-bee, which is arguably one of the greatest practical creatures ever built; looking so real that you’d swear the film was remastered with computer graphics. What makes James Cameron most unique is his ability to politicize his blockbuster films. Most involved corporations versus labor; the blue collar versus white. Terminator’s entire premise resided on the dangers of a corporation determined to create the greatest weapons. The Abyss (1989) has the fearful military fight determined to destroy an alien race (the extended cut having the aliens even warn against Nuclear annihilation). Titanic (1997) is very much an exploration of class. Avatar explores imperialism. True Lies (1994) is his only apolitical film. Aliens continues the mission, with Carter J. Burke as a company man who’s entire mission is to ensure maximum profit for the Weyland-Yutani Corporation. And yet counter to the temptation to hire a slimeball businessman per the likes of Die Hard's (1988) (1986) Harry Ellis, the choice of Paul Raiser made the character far more sympathetic; where you never necessarily believe his motives are dishonorable until the closing scene when he wants to preserve the alien creatures in the hopes of striking it rich for discovering a new form of biological weaponry. Roger Ebert gave this movie 3 ½ stars, but went on to qualify the praise, stating, “The movie made me feel bad. It filled me with feelings of unease and disquiet and anxiety. I walked outside and I didn't want to talk to anyone. I was drained. I'm not sure "Aliens" is what we mean by entertainment. Yet I have to be accurate about this movie: It is a superb example of filmmaking craft.” It just goes to show how revolutionary the film was, as like any new work of art, it stands unmatched against most of its sci-fi action/horror peers - arguably one of the finest films from either hybrid. With the exception of a few somewhat janky miniature spacecraft movements, the stands against anything from the last 35 years. I struggle to think of sci-fi action films that outshine it, just others that stand alongside it: James Cameron’s The Abyss and Terminator (1984) John Carpenter's The Thing (1982), and Philip Kaufman’s Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978) are the few that come to mind. BELOW: D-Day throwback Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page |
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