 Director: Ken Annakin Writer: Bernard Gordon, John Melson, Milton Sperling, and Philip Yordan Cinematographer: Jack Hildyard Producer: Sidney Harmon, Milton Sperling, Philip Yordan, and Dino De Laurentiis by Jon Cvack Similar to good popular 90s films, I’ve coming to the bottom of the bucket in terms of the Epic World War 2 action films produced from the 50s through the 70s. A Bridge Too Far (1945), The Longest Day (1962), Van Ryan’s Express (1965), The Guns of Navarone (1961), and Kelly’s Heroes (1970) all utilized grand set pieces, with countless numbers of tanks, planes, and soldiers packed into every scene. Where Eagles Dare (1968) was the last one I watched, and while not perfect, the closing sequence is one of the most incredible action scenes ever created. It’s watching these films that you realize how inferior modern VFX are by comparison, and why a film like Dunkirk (2017) is a far more powerful cinematic experience than cramming each action sequence in with as much computer graphics as possible. Battle of the Bulge is directed by the same Ken Annakin who gave us The Longest Day; with this one in color (I was expecting black and white) and one of the few films from the sub-genre I’ve seen on Blu-Ray. Not knowing a thing about the film (beyond the obvious), an Overture kicks off and the credits begin to roll. In grand cinemascope, flying above the skies of the Ardennes Forest, we meet Lt. Colonel Daniel Kiley (Henry Fonda) and his pilot on a reconnaissance mission, eventually flying overhead of who would become Kiley’s primary villain, Nazi Colonel Martin Hessler (Robert Shaw). At the time, Allied forces had assumed the worst was behind them, and that Nazi Germany would fall in a matter of months. Kiley is convinced otherwise; believing that a massive force was hiding in the Ardennes; the place where Hessler is headed. There he meets his superior, General Kohler (Werner Peters), who walks him through an incredible series of corridors and rooms, showing everything from a mini-cooper sized Panzer tank model, to a war room with an ornate switchboard, helping them to coordinate their every move while walking us through the story. One of the best description for movies such as Volcano (1997), Twister (1996), 2012 (2009), San Andreas (2015), etc. is Disaster Porn. While I’ll stick to Epic World War 2 Action Movies, you could easily call this War Porn, as the film glorifies all manner of machines, vehicles, and guns. As a kid, this is the type of action film that’d make me jump from my seat, grab my toy weapons cache, and go play war in the backyard for a couple hours until I tired myself out and needed another dose of inspiration. Kiley admonishes his superiors officers of the suspected attack, including an old friend Gen. Grey (Robert Ryan) who while wanting to believe him, just can’t take the risk rolling out such a significant number of troops in preparation. Kiley remains committed, heading to the Siegfried Line front where he meets a battle hardened crew watching the Germans not more than a quarter mile away, led by Major Wolenski (Charles Bronson). Back in the German barracks, Hessler is put in command of a Panzer division; however, with Germany having taken on such large casualties, he’s left with only young boys fresh from the academy with little to no battle experience, determined to demonstrate their courage. Kiley then takes another reconnaissance flight, flying beneath the fog to discover the Panzer division which then shoots Kiley and his pilot down, though before he forwards the message. To complicate matters, German Command has sent in American-sounding GI’s to help sabotage the response. The tanks open at the Schnee Eifel, obliterating American forces, and forcing them into retreat. So begins the battle that defines any Epic World War 2 film in which hundreds of war machines and soldiers fight for the remaining hour, culminating in one of the most impressive final sequences I’ve seen from the genre (and any action film overall) in which dozens upon dozens of full scale tanks battle across the fields; duking it out across acres and acres of land, using trenches to gain advantage. Soon it ends up at a fuel station where hundreds and hundreds of 50-gallon drums of gas are stacked high in all directions, which you know is going to be the end Hessler. Once again you’re left desiring a return to this type of filmmaking, in which what you’re seeing - from the characters to the machinery - is entirely real. The closing sequence was so awesome in the truest sense of the word that you grow saddened by the thought that the thought that the visual arts have actually devolved. The Battle of the Bulge is not the best from the subgenre, but like Where Eagles Dare, the action and characters more than make up for it. Robert Shaw, Peter Fonda, and Charles Bronson are all fantastic; with Shaw serving as the star of the show, as even though Jaws is my favorite movie of all time, I neither knew he was English or ever played a German Nazi. While there’s not as much snow as you expect, it’s a fun film. BELOW: Robert Shaw plays one heck of a Nazi 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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 The original filmmakers podcast Director: Kent Jones Writer: Kent Jones and Serge Toubiana Cinematographer: Nick Bentgen, Daniel Cowen, Eric Gautier, Mihai Mălaimare Jr., Lisa Rinzler, and Genta Tamaki Producer: Charles S. Cohen and Olivier Mille by Jon Cvack There’s been a series of great filmmaker biopics coming out as of late - De Palma (2015), Spielberg (2017), Altman (2014), all providing deep dives into most of their work; all experiencing the same problem in being far too short. It often breaks my heart looking back at these filmmakers, knowing that they all got to live through a time when cinema’s popularity remained strong. I’ve recently joined a show run by a relatively recent NYU grad, who for as much as he loves cinema, admits that the theatrical experience is close to dead for him and most of his friends and that Netflix, Hulu, HBO, and Amazon are where they discover most of the content they consume. One even gave up his Movie Pass after it failed to work at a theater, figuring he probably wouldn’t use it enough anyway. I get a lot of resistance when I say that film is losing its position as the pinnacle of American art; as I'm also the first admit that we’re living in one of cinema’s golden ages in terms of content. The issue is that few care to participate. Movies will always get made, but they no longer hold the position as America’s premiere art form in which the theatrical experience is holy. Most people I talk to (even for those working in the industry) watch shows and a couple movies here and there. Few I know ever go to the movies for anything beyond the occasional spectacle film, or what spreads through word of mouth. Industry people aside, I hardly know anybody that has seen more than one or two Best Picture nominees, not even hearing of most of them. There’s a part of me that so badly wants cinema to return to where it once was; like wishing for an ailing relationship to suddenly correct itself, knowing it’s forever gone. Movies will always exist, but in terms of their dominant position in culture, once Virtual Reality gains ground, cinema will be no different than the state of literature or theater; a bit above jazz or poetry, as though an immortal senior citizen, retiring for new generations. Truffaut/Hitchcock opens with various filmmakers - Paul Schrader, David Fincher, Martin Scorsese, Wes Anderson, Peter Bogdanovich - all discussing what the book meant to them when it came out as they went through it page by page and shot by shot. I had initially purchased the book back in college, and probably take about four years before I ever got around to reading it. I haven’t revisited the book since Road to the Well (2016), and after seeing this, I’m pissed that I didn’t think of going to the book before we shot. While I can’t remember the details, I do recall certain sequences broken down shot by shot in a series of images in order to demonstrate the language of cinema. As with most great and progressive artists, it’s only far into their career that they’re finally celebrated for their achievements (Spielberg being our generation’s version of this fallacy who only recently is receiving the unanimous recognition he deserves). I enjoy Hitchcock and his obsession of being wrongfully accused, often placed with a Freudian dreamlike style; the yarn being when he misbehaved as a boy, his father took him to a police station who locked him up for ten minutes or so, leaving him with the note saying, “This is what we do to bad little boys.” In the mediocre Hitchcock biopic film, we also learned of Hitch’s affinity - possible obsession - for attractive young women, much to the chagrin of his wife. To think the guy made over 53 films, most within the same genre, just goes to show the extremity of these obsessions. It poses a fascinating question of authorship and the limitations of certain filmmakers, along with how extraordinary it is when other filmmakers (Billy Wilder, Kubrick, etc.) are able to transcend a singular genre and explore all forms of story. We’ll never know if the event from Hitchcock’s past is what caused his obsession with the the story. What the film and the interviews do best is highlight what’s been missing from most mainstream film and television - the ability to show and convey information rather than say it. At various points the filmmakers discuss their favorite visuals - the crop duster chasing Cary Grant in North by Northwest (1959), the God’s eye view from The Birds (1963) when the gas station explodes, the shower scene from Psycho (1960). Last October I watched What Lies Beneath (2000), serving as yet another attempt by a modern filmmaker to replicate Hitchcock’s style, and while doing pretty well, had too poor of an ending to retain the tension. The issue is that Hitchcock had explored so many of the different visuals from the genre that even De Palma admitted in his documentary that he struggled to think of new ideas. Nevertheless, Hitchcock set the standard for what a popular filmmaking could be - utilizing visuals of the highest craft within an accessible story; allowing the spectrum of audiences to enjoy it. This movie could - and should - have spent an hour on each of his major films, allowing us to go scene by scene or even frame by frame to understand what he did. In terms of documentaries about cinema, this is one of the finest. BELOW: Part 1 of a 25 episode audio feed of the interview Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Director: Steve James Cinematographer: Tom Bergmann Producer: Mark Mitten and Julie Goldman by Jon Cvack Working my way through the 2017 Best Documentary Oscar nominees, I was excited to see Frontline get a nomination, which is by far the greatest docu-series and one of the most underrated television programs in existence. This story is about the one banker from the ‘08 crash that actually went to jail - an elderly Chinese man from a small community bank in New York City’s Chinatown. What Frontline does so well is shed fairly objective light onto complex topics; interviewing a range of legitimate participants and experts in order to best explain the story. While a few episodes are two-parters and others no longer than twenty minutes, most are around 55 minutes in length, which as HBO helped demonstrate, is the perfect length for a show. Abacus isn’t at all a bad movie, but its hour and a half runtime does make you appreciate the briefer format; making you wish that maybe other episodes were awarded the longer run time. The story focuses on the owner and main character of the story Thomas Sung who was so inspired by Frank Capra’s It’s a Wonderful Life (1946) that he decided to pursue banking. Sung was educated at an Ivy League school, received his law degree, and while able to choose whatever lucrative Wall Street career he wanted, decided to go back to Chinatown to open up a bank and help his community. The place is co-run by his two executive daughters Vera and Jill, while the third younger daughter Chanterelle Sung has been clerking at the District Attorney’s office, who would soon be the ones to press charges. What we see is that the family is like any other, with the sisters arguing over one another, drowning out the youngest while Thomas tries to moderate the discussion. His wife Hwei Lin is uninterested in any of the operations, often serving as the one rational voice (or two, if anyone listened to Chanterelle). The exact accusation is a bit confusing, but essentially, like the mega banks, there were employees at Abacus Federal Savings Bank that were approving loans for under qualified individuals. My dad was also a community banker (now retired) and so I’m confident in explaining the situation in which there were two versions of the stories. The Federal National Mortgage Association (aka Fannie Mae) is a government sponsored, publicly traded company that allows bank mortgages to be rolled up into securities, purchased by other larger banks and insurance companies and be traded on the market while providing profit and limited risk to the bank. During the Clinton era, the qualifications were lowered in order to stimulate housing purchases by the lower-middle to lower class citizens. Thus there are two arguments to be made 1) that these standards shouldn’t have been pushed by the government, and therefore indirectly forced banks to make bad loans (reason being, if banks didn’t extend loans to less qualified individuals they couldn’t remain competitive in the market), or 2) that the banks themselves shouldn’t have granted these loans to people they knew couldn’t pay them back. My view is that it’s a combination of two - the qualifications were lowered, but greed also played in a role in officers turning a blind eye toward grossly unqualified applicants. Of course, I recommend The Big Short (2015) for a far better breakdown. As an example, Thomas Sung mentions how many in the community (i.e., street vendors) might not have the income to qualify, but given the culture of Chinese People, per tradition others would help out - such as family and friends; entities that can’t be directly reflected on the paper. Thus, some of Thomas Sung’s employees might have been willing to overlooked members of the community who failed to qualify for loans, and therefore were granting federally backed loans to individuals they knew wouldn’t pay back the money, getting them the benefits of rolling these mortgages into securities even with poor financial health. It poses a great question as to why New York City government decided to pick on the Sungs rather than the megabanks down the street, but what I think the filmmakers also suggest is that it doesn’t necessarily mean that Thomas Sung is innocent. It’s here that the film gets lost in the details, as we hear the court transcripts while looking at the courtroom drawings. What I enjoy about the film is that the filmmakers (of Hoop Dreams (1994) fame) don’t necessarily let the Sungs off the hook. Personally, I think that much of the defense sounded suspicious (there are, after all, 180 criminal counts), especially when the defense showed silly diagrams about where the nefarious employees sat and why it would have precluded Thomas or any of his daughters from ever knowing about the loan approvals. I couldn’t help but think if I heard or saw a similar defense from JP Morgan or Chase. By the very nature of being in charge, especially in such a relatively small place, I find it hard to believe that they could not have known about it; as I would use the same logic extended at the large institutions would fail the smell test. Whoever’s in charge should be at fault and to simply blame the lower employees is wrong. It creates a fascinating dilemma - on the one hand it seems the government was going after some low hanging fruit with at least borderline racist intent, and on the other, if you believe that the bankers responsible for the 2008 financial crisis should have gone to jail, then this institution deserves to be investigated. Abacus granted loans to get the liquidity from Fannie Mae to remain competitive, essentially aiding in creating junk bonds. They should not have been who the government went after, but for the same reason I don’t think any bank should be too big to jail, I don’t think any other should be too small. To defend otherwise is to say there are exceptions and that it’s a bit more complicated, it’s this exact defense that allowed the big banks to walk away unscathed. Difference being that they could afford the lawyers and the small banks couldn’t. Doesn’t necessarily mean any of them should go free. BELOW: Decent overview of the characters Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  The Unforgiven meets High Plains Drifter Director: Clint Eastwood Writer: Michael Butler and Dennis Shryack Cinematographer: Bruce Surtees Producer: Clint Eastwood by Jon Cvack I had long heard about Pale Rider, never knowing it was directed by Clint Eastwood, and especially not knowing that the film was in many ways a preview of what Eastwood would go on to explore in The Unforgiven (1992) seven years later. I went in with modest expectations, figuring - given how little I had heard about the movie - it would be an 80s B-level Western from the master. Instead, it opens up with a gorgeous opening sequence with a gang of bandits riding across screen with Idaho’s Boulder Mountains in the background. The film takes place at a prospecting sight in what’s supposed to be Northern California during the gold rush. The riders attack the area, terrorizing the residents in order to try and get them off the lucrative land so that their boss Coy LaHood (Richard Dysart) can move in and claim the gold he knows it there. The story focuses primarily on prospector Hull Burret (Michael Moriarty) who’s been courting Sarah Wheeler (Carrie Snodgress), who has a fourteen year old daughter Megan (Sydney Penny) who’s eager to grow up and had lost her dog during the raid. Intercut with this is Eastwood’s classic Man with No Name -in this case dressed as a priest and referred to as The Preacher. When Hull heads to town against his neighbor’s warning, he’s nearly beaten to death by LaHood’s cronies until The Preacher hops in to save him, beating the six men away and following him back to the prospecting site where Hull and Sarah put him up. LaHood refuses to back down, having his son Josh (Chris Penn) recruit a giant man named Club (Richard Kiel) to end things once and for all. While The Preacher and Hull work on demolishing a massive boulder that Hull’s certain has gold beneath it, Club attempts to beat them off, with The Preacher once again saving Hull, beating Club with a sledge hammer. Later the two crack the boulder and Hull discovers a massive load of gold beneath. LaHood refuses to be dissuaded, offering $1000 per claim to each of the prospectors in the hope of getting them off the property. When they still refuse, LaHood hires a band of freelance deputies who lend their “law enforcing” services to the highest bidder. In addition, LaHood has his son Josh blow up and dam the stream further up the river, preventing them from further panning. During the feud, The Preacher takes off, with Hull and the other prospectors thinking he ditched out when, in fact, he actually went back to town’s bank, grabbing his gun from a safe deposit box. In an earlier and uncomfortable scene (though per other thoughts, in line with the 80s cinema) Megan admits her love for The Preacher, who politely rejects her, causing Megan to go even further and offer to make love though he again politely rejects. When The Preacher leaves, Megan goes in search of him, ending up at Josh’s site which provides one of the films coolest set pieces in which heavy streams of water blast into the hills, eroding the soil and allowing the men to find the pittance of gold. Josh welcomes the girl under the guise of care, then attempts to gang rape her with the other men when The Preacher returns and shoots Josh. That night, The Preacher admits to Sarah that he’s not at all an actual preacher, then sleeps with her much to Hull’s resentment. Nevertheless, the next day, The Preacher and Hull head back to Josh’s mines and destroy the camp by tossing sticks of dynamite. The situation escalates when another fellow prospector of Hull’s finds a small boulder of gold, heads to town to get drunk, pay off his debts, and show LaHood that they’re not leaving; challenging the six deputies LaHood hired who then make him dance with gunshots before finally shooting him down dead. So begins the traditional final shootout before the Man with No Name takes off to his next destination. Although the film wasn’t a high def remastering, it remains an absolutely beautiful film; especially when the snow falls and the snow capped mountains hang behind in each shot. Better is the set design, placed within the gorgeous environment as a town, prospecting site, and the strip mining camp. There’s a combination of roughness and carefully crafted frames that embody the wild west spirit which make for any great neo-Western. It’s far from the first film to take on the Seven Samurai trope, in which helpless locals rely on a near superhuman to save them. Yet as with any great films, it’s about taking what works and soaring with it, allowing craft across the board to create the most vivid images possible. As with most of Eastwood’s Man with No Name films, there’s a spiritual quality to the plot. The title being taken from the Book of Revelation, chapter 6, verse 8: "And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him." Although I haven’t seen High Plains Drifter in years, I’m confident in saying this film fixes the abstraction that film posed. Opting for realism over surrealism though with a similarly cryptic Eastwood. At one point, The Preacher mentions the fact that people can’t serve God and mammon “...mammon being money”; in many ways serving as a harbinger to the rest of the community - if they want to survive not just LaHood and his gang, but preserve their community overall, they need to ensure that the gold is for the betterment of all rather than just a few members. Whether against the overreach of Big Government or Big Business, the film reflects embodies Eastwood’s unique libertarianism. BELOW: Eastwood kicking axe Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Wonder if Suzy from Sleepless felt the same about this scene? Director: Leo McCarey Writer: Delmer Daves, Donald Ogden Stewart, and S.N. Behrman Producer: Leo McCarey Cinematographer: Rudolph Maté by Jon Cvack I had no idea An Affair to Remember (1957) was a remake of this film, or that An Affair to Remember was also made by Leo McCarey, for that matter. Funny enough, it was only when the couple mentioned meeting at the Empire State Building that I connected the dots; instantly recalling Rosie O’Donnell’s monologue in Sleepless in Seattle (1993), left to wonder if a movie scene will ever take on such grand, multi-generational significance ever again. The story involves French painter Michel Marnet (Charles Boyer) who meets an American singer Terry McKay (Irene Dunne) aboard a ship cruising across the Atlantic. The two are both engaged, yet find themselves continually bumping into each other, flirting, and developing a strong attraction; all the more complicated by Marnet’s international reputation which puts a spotlight on their attempt at furtive conversation. While the movie falls victim to the cheapness and minimal coverage (not to mention a terrible transfer through Kino Video), it’s soon forgotten when Marnet brings Terry to his visit his grandmother in Portugal; providing what is now a classic scene in any romance where the man shows his tenderness for an elderly woman, concretizing Terry’s attraction to him; knowing that he’s one of the better ones. They then leave, vowing to meet at the top of the Empire State building. Yet when Terry gets hit by a car on the way over, she’s parallelized and far too proud to contact Michel about her injury (a dilemma best described in Sleepless in Seattle). I’ve been trying to find a quote that I came across about Leo McCarey, in which a fellow filmmaker complimented his ability to convey the human experience better than most from the period. He once told others to “...photograph the ugliness of people. I don’t want to distress people.” As simple as films might have been in terms of plot - an old married couple dealing with children that don’t want them in Make Way for Tomorrow (1937), or that of a beneficent priest in Going My Way (1944) and its sequel The Bells of St. Mary (1945) - McCarey somehow captures more heart than any of its replications have achieved. At under 90 minutes and with the feel of a filmmaker that hasn’t fully leaned into the language, Love Affair is one of a handful of films to get a much better remake; and perhaps the only one in which the original was made by the same filmmaker. It’s the type of film that gives you a glance into cinema’s history, providing a rare glimpse of what’s to come and for a film that would have a profound impact on the culture for decades past. BELOW: A tale of two genres Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Introduced the modern running zombie Director: Zack Snyder Writer: James Gunn; based on Dawn of the Dead by George A. Romero Cinematographer: Matthew F. Leonetti Producer: Richard P. Rubinstein, Marc Abraham, and Eric Newman by Jon Cvack The film starts back up after the accident. Ana exits and meets police officer Kenneth Hall (Ving Rhames) who leads her through a bike tunnel before they bump into another armed trio - a middle-aged television salesman Michael (Jake Weber), an armed gangster Andre (or so it’s suggested; Mekhi Phifer) and his pregnant Russian wife Luda (Inna Korobkina). Hall wants to go to find his brother at Fort Pastor; but the others warn against it, as all the other towns have been overrun. Instead they’re heading to the mall. Inside they’re greeted by a trio of security guards - Terry (Kevin Zegers) and another character/actor I cannot seem to find (even after going through the extensive list on Wikipedia), led by C.J. (Michael Kelly) who refuse to let in any more members in their faction; taking them as captives and imprisoning them in one of the department stores. Terry begins to doubt the strategy. Michael Kelly plays the perfect smart asshole (not to be confused with a smart ass) who goes through a wonderful arc; from complete slime to a reliable friend who sacrifices himself for the others. It’d be so easy for the role to have been generic and amoral, but rather Kelly creates a complex character, managing his fear the best he can; as though an aspiring cop who might either be on the verge of the police academy, or had one too many screws loose when testing to get in. Soon, after seeing a van with people in need. C.J. refuse to accept them until Ana and the others retrieve the guns and rush to help the others. Another caravan enters, including an actual smartass and rich shob Steve Marcus (Ty Burrell ), his hot and soon to be mistress Monica (Kim Poirier), a closeted gay man Glen (R. D. Reid), and a sick older woman Norma (Jayne Eastwood), along with a bitten father and his daughter who provide the film’s first somewhat interesting moral dilemma - being only 99% sure of a bitten person turning into a zombie, should they kill them? They imprison the security guards back in their office and soon take over the mall; providing the fantasy I’m sure most everyone imagines would be the greatest part - able to take and use whatever you want, with enough space to live the hedonistic life you desire. The mall provides an accessible metaphor to any discussion. Even as a teenager, I recall discussing the generic idea with friends. People are drawn to the mall by their instincts, driven by their hunger to consume, and the zombies, driven by an insatiable hunger for flesh, knows it’s exactly where to find them. It’s a bizarre symbol - as it operates as both a grand comment and a logical action; both for the people to go and for the zombies to arrive. Yet even if there were decades worth of food and water, or even sex, I was left wondering how long it’d be until boredom kicked in; when characters like C.J., Glen, and Hall will never get to have anyone. How long would they stay put before wanting to see what else was out in the world that could provide them meaning? Parallel to the story, though told through an obtuse plot, Frank and Luda live quietly in a back room of one of the department stores. Luda has become increasingly sick and all the closer to delivering her child. By labor, Luda has fully transformed into a zombie as Frank has constrained her in the hopes of delivering the baby. He succeeds, though unfortunately it’s a zombie infant, and when the caravan’s truck driver discovers the site, she shoots Luda dead, causing Frank to open up. The two kill each other, leaving the baby to be discovered and killed by the others. During the infanticide, the power goes out, leaving C.J., Michael, and the actor I can’t seem to find to head into a parking garage to reset the generator. They discover a friendly and healthy dog before a platoon of zombies chase them down, which they soon burn alive. Hammond’s one close buddy is a fellow marine Andy across the street. The two communicate via binoculars and a whiteboard. When Andy says he’s running low on food, they decide to send the dog over with some food; though the dog’s closest - and obsessive - owner is the daughter who lost her father, who doesn’t want him to die. Nevertheless, they send the dog over and the girl takes the caravan truck to chase him down; an action that is the film’s greatest weakness, as aside from the cool sequence to rescue the girl, I just couldn’t fully buy someone so fully willing to risk their own life for a dog they’ve known for a couple weeks. It like it could have worked just as well if they went over to rescue both the dog and an unbitten Andy, who then could have fallen like the guy who’s name I can’t find does, all in the spirit of one last courageous save. Better than allowing the film to take out the character I can’t name. Either way, the tragedy claims the closeted gay man’s life as well, and the group decides that it’s better to try and take Steve’s yacht to an island somewhere in Lake Michigan. They’ll armor up a couple of mall shuttles and head to the marina in the hopes of reaching the boat and sailing off to safety. Now aside from the glaringly obvious question of how they plan to exactly feed themselves by living on a small island off Lake Michigan (I guess I’m willing to believe they might one day do supply missions back to the mainland), this is an amazingly cynical move by the film. Aside from leaving the characters to live happily ever after in the mall, ultimately it does seem like the smarter solution that has posed little risk since they arrived; if not for anything else beyond the massive S.O.S. painted on the mall’s roof, which - unless every human in the area died - seems an inevitable solution to their problem, requiring patience, if nothing else. I also think this might have been the filmmakers’ cynical intention; as their attempt to escape from the mall results is their doom, reflected in the brilliant closing credit sequence. They head out by shuttle, attempting to drive through an army of thousands of zombies, all determined to eat their flesh, and requiring C.J. to throw a propane tank bomb into the crowd to help them drive forward. It works and they cruise on, but one of the vans tips and in a matter of moments, everyone except the daughter, Terry, Steve, and Ana reach the boat; even Michael is forced to stay back, having been bitten while helping the others escape. They take off and it cuts to black, and seconds later, the film cuts into a found footage short; where someone finds Steve’s old camcorder; filming the crew as they run out of water and food, finally reaching the island, believing they're safe, until a mass of zombies comes out of the woods; killing them all an ostensibly ending any chance for a sequel. The $25 million movie earned over $100 million, and yet there was never a follow-up. Nevertheless, it was a rare definitive ending, in a series that thrives on leaving just enough room for one more. While I had my doubts for a few years, I’m swinging back to thinking this is one of the greatest remakes of all time - up there with Oceans Eleven, The Thing, coincidentally, 2018’s A Star is Born which I just saw hours before finishing this up. It’s a display of Snyder’s once reserved talent, in which he instead relied on an exciting action-horror story that could get by with minimal CGI (thank God) and great set pieces, and a grainy/sick feel that I failed to notice any the previous times watching it (I now want to blame my old roommate and I's shitty Westinghouse TV for the poor experience). I still think its Snyder’s best work, and I'm left wishing he’d come back for a Day of the Dead remake. It’s one of the 00s greatest horror films, and definitely in my top fifteen, possibly top ten, of all time. Give it a few years, and the cheeseball effects and music soon seem vintage and cool. BELOW: Full cylinder horror Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  As usual, half of a good horror film are good characters Director: Zack Snyder Writer: James Gunn; based on Dawn of the Dead by George A. Romero Cinematographer: Matthew F. Leonetti Producer: Richard P. Rubinstein, Marc Abraham, and Eric Newman by Jon Cvack The last time I watched this film was for my birthday years back in my first apartment in LA.I had long considered it the greatest remake ever made, featuring one of the greatest opening credit sequences of all time. It was one of the first films I watched on BluRay and with half a dozen people over who I thought it’d be one of the better horror screening experiences of my life. Yet it was shortly after that awful helicopter POV insert while they’re all standing on the mall’s roof that I had a feeling that this film and the curse of cheap 00s digital effects had finally exhibited the initial symptoms of millenial’s aging cinema. By midway through the movie, I stopped the film and requested that we switch over DVD, convinced that the movie looked so bad that it had impacted the experience. I was convinced that it was a bad transfer, with the BluRay costing only $8 and including the DVD as well (a rare bargain, at the time), and after a long debate of how I was wrong (which I was), being my birthday, I was able to switch out the discs. Sure enough, though likely due to confirmation bias, I recall the film playing better; with at least of the people listening to the debate agreeing (though perhaps because they felt bad for me). Admittedly, something remained wrong with the film; as it seemed to have lost the badass edge it once had upon release; which I think the proliferation of zombie content, specifically the walking dead, likely contributed to. I’m not sure what made me want to return to the movie, as I honestly haven’t even put the thing on for what has to be nearly six years since then, other than the strange desire for the familiar and fun. Like most, my favorite part of the film is the excitement it creates; to seek refuge in an abandoned mall with most things you could want, all while zombies linger outside, wanting to eat you. I can’t find more words than that; it’s a feeling that has remained since I first saw the original in high school. I struggle to think of a more exciting and fun setting for a zombie movie to take place; it’s a location appreciated and shared by all walks of life. I put in the BluRay wondering if I should even just stream it, still a bit convinced that the transfer was bad. Sure enough, as the film opens up at the hospital and we meet nurse Ana Clark (Sarah Polley) whose doctor fails to empathize that she’s an hour over shift and anxious to get home. The first thing I noticed this time around were the dominant green walls, shot with a bleached out look that is a bit jarring at first. Again, I turned off the movie and put in the DVD, hoping I was right about the transfer, and all I saw was a shittier version of the same thing, so I went back to the BluRay and let it play. Ana exits the hospital and sees a pair of legs sticking out an ambulance. I recall the first time watching, thinking it was a dead body and Snyder was getting right to it. A call comes in and we see it’s a man napping. He pops up and heads out, and what you realize the second time around is realizing that they’re likely going to a zombie attack and will soon die. She heads home and meets her husband who appears to work in construction. They live in a freshly developed middle class Milwaukee suburb. Ana is greeted by one of their kid neighbors on rollerblades who shows Ana how she can skate backwards. Ana heads inside and greets her husband; the pair exhibiting the perfect amount of chemistry without the hackneyed platitudes. She’s able to get three days off and he’s tired from work. The two make love in the shower and then pass out. The next morning, they’re greeted by who appears to the kid neighbor, working her way down the dark hallway before revealing her infected face and pouncing at the husband. Ana tries her best to save him, watching as the blood floods from his neck as she realizes there’s nothing she can do. He turns into a zombie and chases her into the bathroom and she hops out a window (leaving me wondering what married couple takes the first floor bedroom, but whatever; bit of a logic snafu). She hops into the car and in another effect that completely bombs in age, we see the town on fire, with CGI flames emanating all throughout the distance. No worries, cause it shifts and Ana speeds off, chased by a zombie, and we see her entire neighborhood under attack, then cutting to God’s eye as she speeds down a hallway, and a car t-bones another, narrowing missing her, and crashing into a gas station which explodes, causing Ana to spin off and crash into a ditch. So begins the greatest opening credits of all time as Johnny Cash’s “The Man Comes Around” plays over a series of images of civilization falling into chaos, and while some of the images have become stale to the genre, it embodies the film’s spirit; pumping us up for what’s to come; serving as a type of overture. If a few of the clips were replaced, it could remain just as strong. Continue to Part 2... BELOW: One of the best credit intros of all time Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  It's cheap as hell, but one of Vincent Price's better horror flicks Director: William Castle Writer: William Castle Cinematographer: Wilfred M. Cline Producer: William Castle by Jon Cvack The Tingler opens up with a Hitchcockian-introduction from William Castle, warning everyone about the strange sensations they might feel while watching. Vincent Price stars as Dr. Warren Chapin while conducting autopsies on recently executed prisoners of the state who died by fear, he discovers the event was caused by a parasite that attaches itself to the victim’s spine. As the parasite feeds on the spine it forces the victim to writhe in pain before dying while the the tingling parasite then escapes - making it look like the individual had died from fear alone. Movie theater owners Oliver and Martha Higgins (Judith Evelyn ; Philip Coolidge) operate down the street from Dr. Chapin’s office. Oliver visits Chapin in order to get some help for his deaf and mute wife, who seems to be getting more fearful by the day. Not sure what to do, Oliver leaves, with Martha dying days later, to which Oliver offers Chapin the opportunity to complete the autopsy. Chapin finds The Tingler which has grown to the side of a Dachshund hound. He puts the creature into a cage and heads to Oliver’s where learned the man utilized his wife’s inability to speak to frighten her to death. The Tingler then escapes, making its way to the movie theater where we get the best taste of William Castle’s genius. As the creature makes it way through the crowd, the entire movie cuts to black, with Vincent Price’s voice coming on, telling everyone to remain calm. You can’t help but smile, wondering what it might have been like to have been in the theater back 1959 when the trick was played. While not necessarily as close as some of Hitchcock’s marketing tricks, it comes pretty close, especially for a creature that wants to attack those who fear the most, creating a strange hyperloop of what I imagine were some trying to contain their fears while scared out of their mind that the creature was going to crawl up their leg. The film continues on, eventually securing some justice in Martha’s tragic death, and while it doesn’t make complete sense, it’s a fun enough film to ignore all the illogic and appreciate the story for what it is. BELOW: Cheesy and delicious hi-def goodness Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Would go on to influence Tim Burton's Batman Director: William Castle Writer: Ray Russell Producer: William Castle Cinematographer: Burnett Guffey by Jon Cvack Taking place in the 1800s, Mr. Sardonicus follows London Physician Sir Robert Cargrave (Ronald Lewis) who visits Baron Sardonicus (Guy Rolfe) who lives in a castle far in the middle of nowhere at the urging of his ex-girlfriend who believes that Sardonicus is veering toward unethical medical practices. At the castle, we meet the film’s greatest performer and arguably the greatest scary movie henchman of all time Krull (Oskar Homolka), whose eye is sealed shut by an nauseating flap of skip that connects his top and bottom lids. Looking up his bio, Homolka never did much more than B and C-level movies, though beyond the screen he was a renowned Shakespearean actor in German theater. The film is worth watching for this performance alone. Oskar is creepy and unnerving while conveying a tremendous amount of foreboding death as he struggles with his master’s terrifying surgeries. Arriving at the castle, Cargrave discovers Krull torturing one the servant girls by sticking leeches in her face, which look real enough to give you goosebumps. Cargrave goes on to meet Sardonicus, who he discovers has a terrifying and permanent grin strewn across his face. Sardonicus explains how he developed the deformity, in which having grown up little with his parents both working long and hard hours, his dad had one day bought a lottery ticket and won, then had a heart attack and dying, accidentally buried with the winning ticket. Sardonicus’ wife urged him to open the casket in order to retrieve the ticket. Sardonicus eventually acquiesced, digging up his father’s grave, opening the casket, and discovering his father’s grinning skull, forcing the same grin onto Sardonicus’ face forever since. Sardonicus has thus been on a mission to cure his deformity, experimenting on his servants - including with leeches - to try and fix the problem. Unable to discover any solutions, Sardonicus has called on Cargrave and his expertise to fix the problem. Cargrave tries and fails, which drives Sardonicus mad. From there the film involves a brilliant play by both Cargrave and Krull as they learn that perhaps Sardonicus’ ailment is much more in his mind than anything physical; that in a quest for money, even if disrupting his father’s grave, Sardonicus might have responded to the terror of seeing his father’s skull with such a large smile on his face due to his own appetite for the money and power, knowing that what made his father smile was the potential immediate transformation of life, no different than Sardonicus’. To think that he might have lived a normal, though poor life if he disregarded the idea is something that’s stuck with me for days after. The makeup is so good and the performances so strong and the story so bizarre that the film is far above any B-Movie designation I think it’d receive. Aside from Psycho (1960) in the year prior, I can’t find many films better than Mr. Sardonicus within a five year or so period that stand up. It’s the exact type of film you hope for when picturing an old black and white horror film taking place in a castle. The images stick with you long after. A testament to how strong of a horror film it is. BELOW: Heck of an intro Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Tom Poston - a charming everyman who never got much play Director: William Castle Writer: William Castle; remake of The Old Dark House (1932; James Whale); based on Benighted (1927 novel) by J. B. Priestley Cinematographer: Arthur Grant Producer: William Castle and Anthony Hinds by Jon Cvack I don’t know much about Roger Corman or William Castle, but it seems to be that William Castle is the Dante’s Peak to Corman’s Volcano, or the poor man’s Hitchcock. I’ve been meaning to check out a few of his films, but - as I discussed in The Masque of Red Death (1964) and The Man They Couldn’t Hang (1939) - given how bland some of the Corman films were from the period, I had put off dumping them into my queue, and while I’m a bit disappointed I took so long, I also think the delay might have worked out, as a recent interest in older films over the last few years has allowed me to appreciate even the campiest of films and the ways they often tried to push the boundaries during the Code Era. The Old Dark House - a remake of the 1932 film with Boris Karloff - stars Tom Poston, who aside from Christmas with the Kranks (2004) and the fifth Beethoven movie (2003), hasn’t been in all that much and yet possesses such an everyman charm to him, veering between car salesman Tom Penderel in this film to Linguistic Professor Jonathan Jones in another William Castle horror collaboration Zotz! (1962). With an aloof look and endearing innocence, Poston has that rare ability to make you feel like he could be your neighbor or colleague, leaving me surprised and finding it a bit tragic that he didn’t find much success. Penderel has recently sold a Rolls Royce to his friend Casper Jemm (Peter Bull) who’s instructed Tom to drop the car off at his creepy mansion. However, upon arriving at the mansion, he discovers Casper dead and meets his strange and eccentric family, including his twin brother Jasper. When a terrible rainstorm rolls in, the family offers Tom a room for the night and so begins a bizarre murder-comedy story, which while far being perfect, is a bunch of fun. We learn that each of the relatives is required to remain in the mansion each and every night, as per the terms of an ancestor’s will, anyone who refuses to honor this requirement forfeits their shares. As a result many of the siblings have lived there for years. Yet with Casper’s recent passing, the night brings a killer to the house, claiming a victim per hour through exciting and bizarre murders, before resulting in a classic bomb-defusal scene, which while completely out of left field, works with the comedic undertones. It’s not a perfect film, but for going in expecting a dull and uninspired story, I was pleasantly surprised. BELOW: A short doc on William Castle 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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