 The best movie with the worst ending Director: James Mangold Writer: Michael Cooney Cinematographer: Phedon Papamichael Jr. Producer: Cathy Konrad by Jon Cvack I recall sitting in my friend’s girlfriend’s basement in high school when this preview played on TV. We had been shooting a short film at the time, involving four friends whose car broke down on a road trip and they’re hunted down by a killer. We shot around town in old barns, main street, and hoped to find an old motel comparable to Joy Ride (2001), and thus when this preview played, we were enamored. It looked like the exact type of film we’d need for inspiration; a collection of ten characters all trapped at a hotel as they’re killed one by one. I can’t recall whether we saw the film in theaters, but I do recall the utter thrill the first half of the film provided which was every bit as good and exciting as I hoped for. The neon light, the downpour, the dilapidated hotel in the middle of nowhere. There were cheesy moments, but the B-movie plot excused all that. And then, what I discovered was nearly exactly at the midpoint this last round, one of the characters, an alleged criminal, escapes the hotel, falls down into a drainage ditch to then hop up the other side and find himself back at the hotel. It made no sense. There could be no logical explanation and the first warning flag went up. In the end - spoiler - we learn that all we’ve been watching was a hallucination by a schizophrenic murderer on death row, and that all the characters we were watching were simply his various personalities. It’s the worst ending to an otherwise good movie I’ve ever seen. By far. And given that the film was inspired by Agatha Christie’s Ten Little Indians, you can’t help but wonder why in the world they decided to abandon a legitimate plot in favor of making it all a dream. It’ll go down as one of the biggest disappointments in thriller cinema. The film opens up Malcolm Rivers (Pruitt Taylor Vince) who’s on death row for a series of murders. When the defense finds a diary that wasn’t introduced in the trial, they call up Judge Taylor (Holmes Osborne) in the middle of a rainy night as Dr. Malick (Alfred Molina) hopes to persuade him to stay the execution due to Rivers being psychologically ill and unaware of what he’s doing.. The film cuts to the ten characters in rapid fashion, intercut in a fairly smart, non-linear order. All taking place during a down pour, they include a family of three George York (John C. McGinley) and his wife Alice (Leila Kenzle) and her child from a previous marriage Timmy (Bret Loehr). When they get a flat tire, George pulls over to the side of the road while George attempts to fix it, finding a high steel stuck in the tire. Alice heads to the backseat, knocking on the glass and comforting her son. She takes just a step back and is slammed by car. The film cuts back to Paris Nevada (Amanda Peet), a Las Vegas prostitute who’s gotten out of dodge. Introduced with the cheeseball Foo Foo Fighter’s “All My Life” (not the song itself so much as the pairing), she drives a old convertible, reaches into her side suitcase which explodes open from the wind, sending her clothes flying through the air while below we see wads of cash. We see that a high heel shoe had fallen out of the suitcase, now sitting on the road. The film cuts again to limo driver Edward Dakota (John Cusack) who’s driving the insufferable television diva Caroline Suzanne (Rebecca De Mornay). As Caroline complains about the downpour, the distracted Edward strikes Alice and slams on the breaks. Caroline demands they drive off, but he refuses, finding the body and taking it into the limo. There’s a bit of a time illogic - but given it’s all a fantasy, I guess it doesn’t matter - in that Paris then arrives to a flooded road, forced to turn back, meaning although she’s been driving for about three or four hours, she hasn’t gotten any further than the edge of town. She finds the rest in the road and they head to the local motel. The motel is allegedly managed by Larry Washington (John Hawkes) who knows Paris is a prostitute after recalling her ad in the back of some porn magazines; offering a one-dimensional animosity toward her, not even wanting her in the motel for whatever reason. Hawkes is talented enough to add the nuance missing from the script (though only by a hair) in that he seems to want to have sex with the woman, but can’t admit it, and the script doesn’t spend any time exploring this, making it feel superficial and gross. After all, Amanda Peet is incredibly attractive, and prostitute or no, I don’t think any man could possibly have this much bitterness and hate, especially after having nothing but nudey magazines to look at for who knows how long. A grating newlywed couple Lou (William Lee Scott) and Ginny (Clea DuVall) arrives. Lou’s a slimy douche who can’t keep his eyes off Paris, while Ginny is equally insufferably anxious, doing little beyond crying and whining nonstop. And finally, a police cruiser pulls up, with the alleged detective Samuel Rhoades (Ray Liotta) and a prisoner he’s transferring, Robert Maine (Jake Busey). Knowing they’re all trapped for the night, Samuel chains Robert to a toilet while the others tend to Alice. We learn that Edward is a former cop, assisting in John Cusack’s gentle way with Samuel’s investigation, encouraging him to keep calling on the radio, though we later find out Samuel has no intention of doing such a thing, as he too is a conman who killed the officer transferring them, kept Robert posed as the prisoner and has been pretending to be a cop. It’s when Caroline takes a phone call and ends up in the laundry room that Larry, Samuel, and Edward discover her decapitated body in the laundry room along with a hotel key - #1. Gradually, each of the patrons are butchered off, making some believe the killer is amongst them. One by one they go, each in increasingly incredulous ways, but it’s after seeing Robert escape to then head into the water trench and make his way back that we grasp that the story is not taking place in reality; bombing the narrative out and leading us to wonder how it could possibly resolve itself, and leaving one of two possibilities - it’s not real, or it is the byproduct of the motel having been built on some Native American burial grounds (or some such thing), and as the story goes on, as absurd as the latter point is, I’d take it willingly over the former. Each victim is accompanied by a hotel key, inching up toward the number ten. Some deaths such as Lou’s are fascinating; as Ginny breaks down in the bathroom and he pounds on the door, demanding to be let inside, then begging for his life. Ginny can’t tell the difference. Others are cheap, one as a throwback to Night of the Living Dead when Alice, Ginny, and the boy all get in the car next to the gas station which explodes. As the plot is no longer able to accommodate the absurdity and as each character is more or less accounted for at any particular moment, we realize there is no identifiable answer. The question looms larger and larger until it finally pops and we’re taken back to the Malcolm Rivers hearing who disappears and is replaced by Edward, completely confused over what’s going on. His psychiatrist holds up a mirror and he sees his actual Pruitt Taylor-self and freaks out, and the judge realizes how disturbed the man actually is. He stays the execution and instead transfers him to a new maximum security prison. We then cut to Paris - the one person who survived, who takes her money and buys an orange farm in Florida, living an idyllic life when she discovers the last key in the dirt. She looks to her left and there’s Timmy, holding a cultivator and stabbing her in the neck and the film cuts to him at the hotel, responsible for each of the murders and for just a second, I thought - maybe I had it wrong. Maybe Malcolm Rivers had actually killed all these people as a boy and was reliving the nightmare again and again as each of the victims. But then you spend three seconds more considering how this could possibly occur - how he could shove a baseball bat down a grown man’s throat; cut off a woman’s head; somehow trigger an explosive device in a car; or the fact that he didn’t push or drive the car that killed his step dad. It could’ve worked under other circumstances, but the commitment to such grand murders prevented it. In the end, the whole story was a fabrication; existing within the mind of a deranged schizophrenic murderer who’s lost the line between reality and fantasy. At best, he might have been witness to some grueling murders and is stuck reliving it in his mind. Given the inspiration from Agatha Christie’s novel, you can’t help but wonder if this shift to Malcolm Rivers was either a part of reshoots. Perhaps the original source material and various adaptations never abandoned reality for some type of psycho-fantasy. Maybe Timmy was indeed suppose to be the original killer and the perhaps test screenings failed the bullshit test and they scrambled for a better resolve. Rather than risking the less plausible, they took it straight out of reality altogether. The film is near perfect for the first half regarding pop-thriller cinema, providing that uncanny feeling of mystery and suspense, leaving you unsure whether it’s supernatural or actual. As with any great story - I’m left thinking of What Lies Beneath (2000) - the exercise is preserving that tension while wrapping it up appropriately. Neither Hitchcock, nor De Palma allowed such a simple and cheap explanation to topple their thrillers. It leaves you wanting a remake done right. Identity is perhaps the greatest movie with the worst ending in cinematic history. BELOW: Running on all cylinders at this point 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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 Don't remember much except for the boot Director: Luis Buñuel Writer: Luis Buñuel and Jean-Claude Carrière; The Diary of a Chambermaid by Octave Mirbeau Cinematographer: Roger Fellous Producer: Michel Safra and Serge Silberman This is the last film available from Buñuel on Netflix and rounds out a filmography dominated by surrealist pieces that I often found too abstract to enjoy. However, it was the last few of his films I watched, Belle de Jour (1967) and The Young One (1960) that showed an alternative side to the filmmaker; offering straight forward narratives containing Buñuel's signature images and quirky characters. Diary of a Chambermaid follows the style, providing a sexually charged and often disturbing story centered around a maid who finds herself in a world of predators and villainy. The film opens up with Célestine’s (Jeanne Moreau) POV as she watches a train. She arrives in a rural town, catching a ride in a carriage where she tells the driver that the place seems dreary and doesn’t seem like a place where people have much fun. She arrives at the mansion, occupied by an elderly and horny old man M. Rabour (Jean Ozenne), his asexual and high strung daughter, Madam Monteil (Françoise Lugagne) who says the act hurts too much, and her husband who’s slowly going crazy from being unable to have sex with his wife, Monsieur Monteil (Michel Piccoli). Celestine first encounter with M. Rabour involves him asking her to read a book of conservative philosophy, in which he asks if he can grab her calf and later offering to exchange her shoes, revealing a bizarre foot fetish when he forces her to put on some polished black boots and walk around, only for days later to be found dead in bed with the boots, suggesting he died from non-stop masturbation of sorts. Celestine meets the rest of the help, including Marianne (Muni) and Joseph (Georges Géret) who’s a right wing nationalist professing his anit-semitic views for all to hear. Given today’s debate on immigration, the parallels are eerie as he calls for “law and order” and how the Jews are destroying the fabric of society which will soon utter in a right wing revolution which he increasingly supports throughout the film. Celestine also meets the neighbor who despises the Rabour family, throwing endless amounts of garbage into their lawn. The neighbors have a young daughter, Claire (Dominique Sauvage), who often hangs out at the house, scrounging for food. When she’s out in the woods picking up snails, she meets Joseph who warns her of the woods and the wolves inside before he follows her in. Reminding me of The Young One, Buñuel cuts to a wild boar chasing a rabbit before cutting to an incredibly disturbing view of the young girl’s legs peeking out from the tree, covered in blood with the snails crawling all over. The murder ignites a town-wide investigation, but with no leading suspects, police quickly hit a dead end. By this point, Celestine has had enough of the bizarre family and opts to leave until she hears about the murder, returning back in order to help the investigation, quickly suspecting that Joseph was responsible which he denies. It’s around this point that the narrative gets a bit peculiar in structure. Aside from Celestine’s sudden desire to up and leave, she seems to seduce Joseph into admitting his responsibility, going so far as to wear some lingerie and head to his room above the barn, vowing to marry him and help open a cafe to assist with his revolutionary desires, hoping that he’ll admit to the murder which he continues to deny. From there the film picks up even faster, moving from a series of memorable scenes - some disturbing, others weird. Madam Monteil tells a priest (Jean-Claude Carrière) about her inability to have sex due to the pain. Her husband propositions Marianne who, fearing for her job, agrees to sleep with him in the barn. And the neighbor proposes to Celestine after saying she should sue the Rigour family. It’s the type of rapid series of developments that seem to come from the confines of adapting a more nuanced book. By the end, Celestine pulls the metal tip from Joseph’s boot and plants it in the woods which the police find and later arrest him, just as he was assembling right wing literature and weapons to take to the rally. The film cuts forward and Celestine is now married to the neighbor, relishing in the upper class life she always wanted while Joseph somehow had been released from prison - even though he raped and murdered a young girl - and the film cuts to street protest, with dozens of men on the shipyards declaring, “Down with the immigrants,” as Joseph watches from the cafe he wanted. In the end, I’m not exactly sure what the story is about other than a mild satire on the upper classes who feel free to do whatever they wish, completely detached from the lower classes which serve them. Similar to Barry Lyndon (1975), I get semblances of what the story’s about, but it’s from coherent. Checking out some info on the book, author Octave Mirbeau said he was exploring how servants were a form of modern slaves; reluctantly accepting the sexual harassment and assault of their bosses in order to avoid losing their jobs and fall further into poverty. The book was told in a nonlinear fashion and abandoned the realism often found in other work from the period. While Buñuel accommodates the former, the loss of objectivity just doesn’t accommodate the story. In fact, it seems this could have been one of the few films that could have used a bit more surrealism. The movie leaves you feeling gross as you watch people in positions of power exploit and prey upon their servants who they know can’t or won’t do anything about it. On the spectrum of Buñuel's work, this is center-realistic. It contains images and moments that stick in your mind; namely the little girl murdered in the woods with the snails crawling on her legs, but beyond that it seems to only touch the tangent of serious ideas. There’s the undercurrent of anti-semitic revolution boiling beneath, but hearing no more than discussions prevents me from grasping how it all connected; especially given that Joseph was one of the servants. It’s another film that warrants another viewing, but I’m just not sure when I’d ever go back. BELOW: Not much on YouTube so here's a trailer Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  The British Sideways BELOW: A scene that really pissed off Ebert Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page Director: Michael Winterbottom Producer: Andrew Eaton and Melissa Parmenter Cinematography: Ben Smithard by Jon Cvack For those unfamiliar (I wasn’t) this was a British television series cut down into a mockumentary. Allegedly, the show focused more on the restaurants they went to and dove deeper into the food and chefs. There’s a peculiar similarity to Sideways (2004), which for as much as I look, I can’t find any direct inspiration, but being made six years later, the parallels fly off the screen. Both films contain two artist friends, one in a relatively healthy relationship, the other not (or at all). They meet up and head off on a road trip, hitting up various restaurants, sites, and bars along the way, all while providing an intimate look into friendship, exploring everything from the banal to the personal. In this case, the philandering and sarcastic Hayden Christensen and neurotic Paul Giamatti are replaced by Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon, each playing a fictionalized version of themselves. Ryan as a happily married radio host known for his impersonations, specifically a bizarre “man in the box” voice and Steve Coogan as a modestly successful actor, who fantasizes about working with Hollywood’s top auteurs, seemingly on the precipice of success, and dating a young attractive girl back in the states who he proceeds to cheat on without concern. The plot is as simple as it gets. Coogan is offered a week-long trip to Northern England’s top restaurants for a magazine and invites his friend Ryan after his young American girlfriend drops out, having gone back to the states to meet up with some magazine editors. We watch as Coogan and Ryan visit the top restaurants, commenting on the food and offering various and hilarious impressions ranging from Woody Allen to a brilliant breakdown of what makes a good Michael Caine impression (involving talking through the nose while projecting a lifetime of whiskey and cigar smoking). Between Coogan walking off into the Northern England countryside, calling his agent and girlfriend, wallowing in his lack of success, forever stuck in the London entertainment industry to then seduce a waitress or hotel staff all while Ryan heads back to his room for an early evening, phone sexing his wife. It’s as simple as that. Coogan and Brogdon’s foil isn’t punched up or exploited. It’s simply two funny people - one dry the other more slapstick - on vacation, allowing us to listen to their thoughts and banter. Ebert quoted Siskel in his review who said, "I wish I'd seen a documentary about the same actors having lunch.” I’d be satisfied with a podcast. In the end, they return home. We learn Coogan has a son he rarely sees and isn’t all that close to, being far more focused on his career than being a good dad, while Brogdon anxiously awaits the return home to his family. Coogan gets back to his empty apartment, having been offered a role on an HBO series which he rejects; whether for the unlikely reason that he wants to try and get more involved with his family, or because he’s still holding out for a breakout role, we’re not sure. It’s something the next three sequels might reveal. BELOW: Gave me a lol Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  So close, but at least they had a timeless American classic made about 'em Director: Ron Howard Writer: William Broyles Jr. and Al Reinert; Lost Moon by Jim Lovell and Jeffrey Kluger Cinematographer: Dean Cundey Producer: Brian Grazer by Jon Cvack Watching a critically acclaimed big-budgeted on 4k UHD is like watching a DVD or BluRay for the first time. The way in which the quality improves provides a near-religious experience. For the cost of an iPhone you can now have a home television experience that’s as close to a movie theater as it’s ever been. I haven’t seen Apollo 13 in probably around 10 years, if not longer. It’s the type of movie I’ve seen often enough to remember the major details, but of which the minor details have faded for time; where you forget how good the great scenes are. This is one of the greatest popular American films of the 20th century. It is that strange experience of failing to remember just how incredible the film is in terms of story and craft. It opens up on July 1969 as Neil Armstrong is about to take the first steps on the moon. We’re at a packed party with all of the modernist greens, yellows, oranges, and browns from the era. We meet Jim Lovell (Tom Hanks) who’s playing host, dealing with his high-strung daughter, and from the get-go - with Hank’s magical charm - we like the guy. Recently, on NPR one of the guests mentioned how the reason Tom Hanks is so rarely nominated compared to his great body of work is because he so deeply falls into the character that we forget we’re even watching a performance. Hanks as Lovell is perhaps the finest example of this. I took issue with First Man (2018) being a film about a narcissist who’s willing to hurt anyone and everyone around him, all in an effort to achieve his dream. There was little redemption in his pursuit of the moon, and for a character based on of America’s most inspiring figures, I found the character unlikable and ruthlessly self-seeking. Hanks’ Jim Lovell is an equally determined man, and Howard instead focuses on the struggle of being a good person against that passion for greatness. Lovell wants to get to the moon as much as anyone else, realizing the politics required in getting to that position. That is, Hanks pulls off the miraculous in having the same self-centered tendencies while providing a great deal of charm and empathy; a feat only this unique and phenomenal actor could possibly provide and for whatever reason this “every man” accomplishment is often overlooked. Somehow an actor who gets the viewers to love them just doesn’t get the same recognition. After the moon landing, Jim gives one of his tours to some politicians to be interrupted by his boss Deke Slayton (Chris Ellis) to inform him that due to the previous crew being exposed to the measles, they’ve been bumped up. They are the next team going to the moon. They’re comprised of Lunar Module Pilot Fred Haise (Bill Paxton) and Command Module Pilot Ken Mattingly (Gary Sinise). During a simulation where they have to doc the rocket pod with the space module, Ken manages with all the obstacles the tech crew throws at him. Even still, after three hours, he requests they do it again. They’ve gotten to a point where they can anticipate each other’s moves. For anyone working with a crew, the dynamic is palpable; further testament to the power behind these roles as we immediately believe they’ve been working together for years. That all comes to an end when after NASA runs some blood tests, they discover that Mattingly has the measles. Deke informs Jim that they have to cut him. Just days from launch, Jim is furious and concerned. Within 72 hours they’ll have to train the reserve crew Command Module Pilot Jack Swiger (Kevin Bacon), who soon fails in his first simulation. The sequence is brilliant, as Fred and Jim break the news to Mattingly, with Jim taking responsibility for pulling Mattingly off, in a move that, again, only Tom Hanks could pull off; doing something he doesn’t need to do, simply because it’s the honorable and respectable thing. From there, during the simulation, Bacon also shines as we watch his utter embarrassment in failing to perform for his team who’s especially concerned with their new member. So leads us up to one of the most iconic scenes in modern film history, as the crew gets suited up for take off, boarding the rocket and getting strapped in. It’s cut between the Houston Command Center, led by Flight Director Gene Kanz (Ed Harris), along with Ron Howard’s brother Clint Howard as Electrical, Environmental and Consumables Manager Sy Liebergot and dozens of other men in shirts and ties and glasses, each responsible for their own individual item. The longer time goes on there more in awe I am over what they accomplished with the earliest forms of electronic computing, somehow using radio waves to communicate thousands of pieces of information from a ship flying to the moon, using math and science to figure out to build rocket engines capable of launching from Earth and following complex laws of propulsion and gravity to help a rocket connect to modules, land on the moon, and then take off again; having absolutely zero certainty that their formulas will work. It’s this uncertainty that plays throughout the film. Howard explores the superstition around the launch. For those who don’t recall, Jim’s has heard stories about the Apollo 1 mission and how the astronauts were stuck on the ship after a fire broke out and burned alive. Bad science led to flammable coolant used in the plumbing and bad engineering cause a wiring shortage. It portrayed the dangers of the Apollo mission and the faith required by future teams to believe they’re equipped with a sound team and crew. Nevertheless, after the Apollo 12 team is forced to drop out, the media immediately discusses the number 13, worsened with Ken Mattingly’s 48 hour pre-flight replacement and when Jim’s wife Marilyn (Kathleen Quinlan) loses her wedding ring in the shower. It’s never enough for us to believe any of it mattered so much as the coincidences surrounding the disaster that helped portray a sense of dread and unease. Marilyn’s fully aware of the danger, and Quinlan provides an equally powerful performance as someone attempting to hide her fear and unease, though showing just enough so that Jim knows. It’s this nuance that provides a more fulfilling look into the human drive for greatness. Jim knows she’s scared and we’re left wondering if his friendly demeanor is to calm his family, calm himself, or is altogether genuine. Perhaps all three. Counter to the simulations, Jack Swiger connects the module with just a bit of friction. They hop out of their seats and we see what shouldn’t even be possible. The men are floating. It’s not a trick, digital effects or with wires, but actually floating as though in zero gravity. For those who don’t know, they built a small set in an airplane that climbs to the sky’s upper limits and then soars to the ground at the speed of gravity, creating a gravity-like environment. I’m not sure what is real or fake, as the two blend flawlessly together. I’ve yet to see any movie that matches its realism. While shooting a live feed meant to broadcast to all of the major networks, Marilyn discovers that no one’s deciding to play it. Although only the second moon landing, they’ve decided that going to the moon has little interest from the public. They conduct their interviews and wish eac other goodbye, unaware of how few are watching. Swiger then enters into some routine housekeeping. Houston tells him to mix the tanks and he does and there’s an explosion; alarms sounds and lights ignite across the panel; unsure of what’s going on they lose control of the ship as Houston attempts to find out what’s going on. It’s a fascinating sequence as Howard dives into the individual layers - there is Houston who wants to avoid giving bad information and/or jumping to conclusion. As Gene Kranz demands, what they need to know is what they actually know. “Let’s work the problem,” he says. The second dynamic is the utter horror in realizing that the mission could be jeopardy, or worse, they will not survive. The third is Marilyn’s struggle to keep her family calm and confident that they’ll see their dad once again, and that she especially won’t lose the man she loves. The fourth when Ken Mattingly returns to help, determined to figure out what to do. Jim, Jack, and Fred soon learn that they’re to transfer to the module, detach it from the rocket, and return to Earth. Heartbroken and with the moon filling the tiny lunar window, they confirm, though the problems persist. For one thing, having shut down much of the mechanics to prevent a fire, they’re now running on limited power - 20 amps which Mattingly jokingly compares to having enough juice to run a toaster. He hops into the simulator in order to try and figure out both what he can shut off and how to shut it off without shorting out the whole system. The second problem they face is one of my favorite scenes from the film as they discover carbon dioxide leaking into the main cabin and demand the engineers take all the materials they would have aboard the ship in order to create a filter; an analogy I’ve used on our film Road to the Well (2016) time and time again and is fitting for any problem. Looking at what you have - whether materials or power - and seeing how you can use them to solve your problem. The final problem involves having to use the little juice they have in order to correct their trajectory in a single chance. If they fail, they’ll lose Earth altogether and drift off into space, immediately painting a portrait of how utterly terrifying it’d be to know that starvation (or perhaps carbon dioxide poisoning) is the only fate to await them; raising the stakes sky high as another thrilling scene takes place. The story of course catches the world by storm, portraying the cynical media environment where bleeding gets reading and the entire nation tunes in, extending all the way to the Vatican where a masse of people pray for the astronauts. It leaves you nostalgic for the days when the country could unify behind a cause and simply hope for what is right and good; cheering for the scientists, engineers, pilots, and mathematicians to solve the seemingly endless problems. All of them are solved, and it’s through accomplishing them one by one that the film leaves you on edge the entire time. It is not just the special effects, but the way Howard builds layer upon layer beneath, never allowing a single scene to operate in and of itself but to contain a depth of complexity. I’ve always enjoyed Apollo 13, but after this viewing, I’m considering it as one of the all time greatest action dramas. It is a movie that leaves you longing for what the rarest of movies provide - an entertaining and idealistic story that you leaves you wired up and proud in the end, inspired by what humanity can do and accomplish. So often it’s either the negative or hyper embellished action piece. Howard achieves both and creates one of popular cinema’s greatest pieces of the last thirty years. BELOW: A scene that really pissed off Ebert 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 cinema's all greatest buddy cop duos Director: Michael Bay Writer: Ron Shelton and Jerry Stahl Cinematographer: Amir Mokri Producer: Jerry Bruckheimer by Jon Cvack As mentioned in my thoughts on Bad Boys, Michael Bay will one day be remembered as an artist; someone who reflected the MTV generation by having his films operate with the same lightning pace. After watching the film and praising it with friends I found the same criticism, literally some version of “It’s fun, but a terrible movie”. It’s a completely paradoxical statement - they had fun watching the movie while finding it bad. I can’t think of many films that fit the same description. Die Hard might be the only recent example of a film that’s made the transition from cheeseball action into high craft recognition. I’m confident Bad Boys II will make a similar leap. While Bad Boys showed a freshmen filmmaker learning his craft, Bad Boys II was Michael Bay four films into his career. Gone is the awkward coverage or cheap action tricks. Bay received nearly $150 million dollars to fully actualize one gigantic set-piece after another, fully capturing it in every beautiful way imaginable. What I think the critical crowd will one day realize is how gorgeous each and every shot is; no matter how few seconds - or frames - it lasts. The story opens up with Henry Rollins leading a swat team to attack a band of drug smugglers who are using coffins to exchange MDMA for money. Things move from 0-60 in seconds as we watch speed boats dropping coffins into the ocean intercut with the SWAT team getting suited up. They enter the swamps and land on a local KKK group, burning a cross. Two clansmen then remove their masks, revealing Marcus Burnett (Martin Lawrence) and Mike Lowery (Will Smith). They hoist up their guns, surrounded by over a dozen clansmen, including Michael Shannon as Floyd Poteet in one of his earliest roles. Marcus and Mike’s radio fails in calling in the SWAT team and things grow intense. Gunshots are fired and Henry Rollins leads the team in. Dozens of police storm in on boats as the clansmen scramble, complete with a burning cross in the middle. There’s a particular bird’s eye shot of the action; orange near the fire one side and blue on the other. It’s full of moving pieces and is a feast for the senses; it is cinema and money fully utilized. Amidst the chaos, Mike shoots Marcus in the ass to prevent a clansmen from killing him. So begins the buddy cop “gotta quit” trope. The characters lean into their tropes. Still living off his trust fund, Mike’s exchanged the Porsche for a Ferrari and an even more lush Miami penthouse. Marcus has gotten a modest house next to the water, having just installed a cheap above ground pool where he spends his days recovering from the bullet wound; culminating in Mike scaring the dog which is attached to the pool filter, busting the walls and causing Marcus to float away into the ocean. Again, Bay could have easily gone with a far simpler gag, opting instead for the maximum production value in demonstrating Marcus’ middle-class domesticity. It’s the kind of scene that any studio would cut knowing how much the cost and why Bay is in a league of his own. We then meet the film’s new character, Marcus’ sister Syd (Gabrielle Union) who we later discover is an undercover agent with the DEA, working on the same MDMA case. Her and Mike have been dating for a few months and Syd’s anxious to tell Marcus, but with Mike knowing Marcus’ disdain (or envy) for his player lifestyle, Mike is reluctant. We meet the boss of the film, Johnny Tapia (Jordi Mollà), who’s essentially the same character from the latter half of Blow (2001). He meets up with Syd and so the first act passes and we move into two hours of nearly nonstop action. We see an amazing car chase down the spiraling parking garage exit, leading to a chase across a bridge where a car carrier truck releases vehicles one by one. Made in 2003, I struggle to see the line between digital and practical effects, where at no point did I not fully believe Bay loaded up a carrier and had a Ferrari salom through them while driving over 70 mph. I know there’s a line somewhere. I just don't know where it is. Mike and Marcus soon discover that Tapian has been using dead bodies to store the drugs, resulting in a bizarre and ballsy scene in having them end up at a morgue where Marcus ends up in bed with a beautiful and busty dead woman as Tapian’s men round them up. It’s understandable that critics would shun this scene, but it’s so absurd and oddly sexual, which combined with Marcus and Mike at the peak of their ball-busting never crosses the line. Bay might be the first to create irony with a popcorn action movie. Somewhere around this point, Marcus learns of Mike and Syd's relationship and reacts exactly as anticipated. Combined with nearly half a dozen brushes with death in a matter of day, he soon tells Marcus he’s filing for a transfer in order to take a desk job. Mike chases him down and in a scene that Roger Ebert spent nearly 20% of his review disparaging, we get the classic moment of Marcus’ daughter’s date arriving, leading Marcus to accost him and for Mike to later pull out his gun, acting wasted on champagne, demanding the boy listen to the rules. It’s one of those odds scenes that has aged perfectly; often shared on reddit as a great scene, highlighting Will Smith and Martin Lawrence’s humor. There’s something so odd about how seriously critics took this moment. It seems at least somewhat bigoted. Two black men mess with another black man, again playing an ironic gangster role; all the more supported in that this was completely improvised and the daughter’s boyfriend had no idea what to expect. It was Will Smith and Martin Lawrence having fun and to spend so much time criticizing this moment seems like a dig at them as much as the filmmakers. Time has provided justice. During a botched raid on Tapia’s mansion, Mike and Marcus fail to know that Syd’s inside attempting to make the bust. She’s kidnapped and taken to Cuba and so Bay takes us to another absurd and fun final sequence as the pair recruit Henry Rollins and his gang of hyper buff SWAT members who sneak into the country and provide one of the best climatic shoot outs of any modern action movie, utilizing tunnels, bazookas, the Cuban military, and soon having them drive a Humvee through the mansion and then down a hill through the steal huts of the country’s poorest. It’s another scene where you’re left wondering how in the world they achieved it as they are actually driving this Humvee down a hill, crashing through endless amounts of steels huts which explode into hundreds of pieces. Yes, it’s certain that many people died in the scene (in the movie, that is), but again the movie is so ridiculous and it’s never shown, that the deductive logic never distracts you. Bay achieves the miraculous in having us believe the innocent never die. They soon end up outside of Guantanamo Bay, separated by a minefield. Tapian then arrives and we get a western standoff as everyone points guns at everyone else. Syd throws her pistol and a mine explodes, killing Tapian and we’re taken back to Marcus’s backyard where once again the pool explodes via runaway dog and Mike and Marcus are whisked away into the ocean. At nearly two and a half hours, Bay somehow makes time disappear. The movie is funny and fun and horrifying and gross and touching and sexy, taking you on a roller coaster of emotions, happening so fast that you never have the chance to get bored. Each shot is designed to pack as much in as it can, engaging us into each and every second. Pure action cinema is meant to be fun. The more fun it is, the better made. This is one of the finest action movies ever made. BELOW: A scene that really pissed off Ebert Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Some dang cool miniatures Director: Cy Endfield Writer: John Prebble, Daniel B. Ullman, and Crane Wilbur; based on Mysterious Island (1875) by Jules Verne Cinematographer: Wilkie Cooper Producer: Charles H. Schneer It’s been years now since I first read Mysterious Island. I had been taking Khan Academy trigonometry classes at the time and was fascinated by Vernes' use of these ideas in order to solve problems, such as how long a bridge needs to be by knowing the angle compared to the height of a particular object. I’ve long forgotten the formula but its endless use of science was unlike anything I’ve ever read. For as much as we think Vernes wrote fantastic works of science fiction, large portions of his stories come to a crawl as he dives deep into the details. What we think of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (1954) is far more based on the movie which rightfully - though perhaps radically - abandons the scientific jargon in favor of action. Mysterious Island does the same, though to a more extreme degree in that rather than a story focusing on the gastronomy of sea creatures, it follows a group of civil war soldiers who escape a confederate prison via hot air balloon, later crash landing on an abandoned, though exotic island. They’re led by Captain Cyrus Smith (Michael Craig), Herbert Brown (Michael Callan), and Neb Nugent (Dan Jackson), along with news reporter Gideon Spillitt (Gary Merrill) and Confederate soldier Sergeant Pencroft (Percy Herbert) who’s not all that excited to have to take orders from a Union officer. They soon discover the place is filled with massive animals - oysters the size of small pools, but also giant crabs that almost kill Neb but also provide them with the greatest meal of their lives. Two women arrive by shore, Elena Fairchild (Beth Rogan) and her mother Lady Mary Fairchild (Joan Greenwood); the name being far from subtle and the film leans far into making her a sex object. Combined with her flawless makeup, Elena’s so hyper-sexualized that, again, for a story meant to show what could be the actual struggles against a fantastical world, it feels just awkward and creepy. When a band of pirates land on the island, the party’s saved by the elusive Captain Nemo (Herbert Lom) who’s been hiding out in his infamous Nautilus boat, hidden within a cavern. The soldiers resent his pacifism, especially in that he had actively destroyed war ships and the men aboard in his effort to prevent further war. While the film doesn’t go into the same philosophical debates, it provides enough of a taste between the fascinating dynamic between those fighting a war that has a righteous purpose and the immorality of trying to stop it. When a giant volcano erupts and looks to destroy the entire island, Captain Nemo and the party devise a plan to fill their hot air balloon inside the sunken pirate ship via a bamboo pipe pump hooked to the Nautilus. While filling the sunken pirate ship, they encounter a giant hermit crab but the mission proves successful. The volcano then pops and while Nemo triggers the machine, the cavern collapses, killing him and destroying his boat. The balloon inflates in time and the party sails off. Somewhere amidst all this, Nemo explains that the giant animals were a product of genetic experimentation completed in an effort to solve world hunger. That is, wars are often a product of economics and the need to preserve particular systems (i.e., slavery) or to take over another territory. It’s another issue the book does a far better job explaining, but to even see this included is impressive; especially given the year released. It’s at least a flirtatiously socialist film. It leaves you thinking of Jurassic Park (1990; 1993) and the way in which Crichton and Spielberg leaned into scientific speculation while combined with an engaging story could be far more effective. Mysterious Island is worth checking out for the effects, but beyond those, it drifts much too far toward the story’s surface. It’s a move in dire need of a remake; finding that fine balance between the fascinating science and the amazing world Verne created. In the right hands, such a film could secure the rare accomplishment of both a better remake and adaptation. BELOW: A movie where you can feel Spielberg's brain light up while watching it as a kid Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  You don't realize how great it is until you see Bad Boys for Life Director: Michael Bay Writer: Michael Barrie, Jim Mulholland, Doug Richardson; story by George Gallo Cinematographer: Howard Atherton Producer: Don Simpson and Jerry Bruckheimer by Jon Cvack The longer time goes on, the more certain I am that we’ll look back to Michael Bay as one of cinema’s greatest action directors. And it’s for a very simple reason - his movies are fun and a blast to watch. As much as people want to call them mindless or shallow, I could direct them to the nearest Red Box for a variety of straight to video action movies you’ve never heard of with A-level (or once A-level) stars. Thus it seems odd to believe these movies are fun without giving Michael Bay the credit of crafting well made movies. As time goes on and few have met his threshold, many of his movies are positioning themselves as works of art. They represent a moment in time. The 1990s-Mtv generation that liked things fast and flashy, with explosions, shoot outs, attractive scantily clad people, and car chases. I decided to revisit the first two Bad Boys films in anticipation of seeing the third; saddened to learn that Michael Bay failed to return. I had no idea this was Michael Bay’s first film until about ten minutes in when it was clear that someone who had never made a movie before was finally given a $19 million budget to create a flashy action piece. Eyelines don’t match up, sequences are a bit awkward and confusing, and his cutting around of big action scenes is cheap and unconvincing. And yet by two thirds in, he seems to find his stride and creates an amazing piece of action filmmaking. The story opens up with two detectives, Marcus Burnett (Martin Lawrence) and Mike Lowery (Will Smith ) driving a Porsche down the highway. Marcus is conservative, married, and living a middle class life. This is against Marcus who’s funny and gregarious, constantly hooking up with beautiful women. We learn that he inherited a boat load of money which subsidizes his sports cars and luxury apartments. It’s a simple and brilliant plot point. The cheap trick fully foils the pair, united only by their skin color, which plays a subtle though significant role throughout the series. They’re pulled over by a pair of criminals and what’s interesting is that at no point do we know they’re cops. There’s a strong suggestion that we’re meant to go with the stereotype - two black dudes stole an expensive car, to then see them pull some moves, apprehend the car jacks, who then reveal themselves as the Miami PD. The film cuts to a fast sequence involving a bunch of bad guys crawling through tunnels in order to blow through the floor of a police evidence room and steal a massive amount of heroin. They’re led by Fouchet (Tchéky Karyo ) who’s been in enough action movies for you to remember, though you might not know him by name. The next day Marcus and Mike arrive at the bureau where they’re chewed out by police chief Captain Conrad Howard (Joe Pantoliano ) who’s furious over the break in. He assigns Mikey and Marcus the case. Mike asks his ex-girlfriend (and possible escort) Max Logan (Karen Alexander) to see if any of her rich clients (aka drug dealers) have suddenly found business booming. Max and her friend Julie Mott (Téa Leoni ) then get hired as escorts and are taken to Fouchet’s mansion where his lieutenant and former cop Eddie Dominguez (Emmanuel Xuereb) makes Max. Julie hides, watching as Eddie shoots her dead. She attempts to escape and is chased down and it’s here that Bay’s nascent skills best display themselves. “Wide for comedy, close for drama” could have the former substituted with action. There’re cheap ways to shoot thrilling sequences; focus on a bunch of close ups of bricks falling, feet running, and over the shoulder of the chased/chasers, but none of it will be as effective as attempting to show the stunt in wide - or Bay’s case for subsequent films, countless wides - in order to pull of the stunt. As the henchman chased Julie, I was reminded of the endless Steven Seagal and John Claude Van Damme movies I’d grown up with. And yet what’s most fascinating about the film is watching Bay learn his style. It’s there from the start, especially with the evidence room heist, told in an onslaught of beautiful images, cut together in fractions of a second. By the second half of the film, it’s as though he had fully learned what worked and that we’re watching a filmmaker learn their voice. Julie arrives at the police station and demands to talk to Mike Lowrey who’s out of town to investigate some leads on the matter. Captain Howard orders Marcus to pretend he’s Mike. The film contains a bizarre and effective subplot (continued in both sequels) in that Marcus has been impotent and not having sex with his wife lately. Between the job and his kids, they haven’t been together in months and it’s starting to take its toll. His reluctance to take on Mike’s persona is less out of annoyance than temptation. Julie is attractive and likes to show it, and pretending to live at Mike’s apartment with her would prove just too difficult. As is, he doesn’t have a choice in the matter. Mike soon comes back and learns the plan and gets the job of living at home with Marcus’s family. The situation creates a subplot that’s straight out of a classic sex-charged screwball comedy. Marcus is increasingly tempted by Julie, making it all the more difficult to curb his jealousy when hearing Mike on the phone with his wife Theresa (Theresa Randle); taking on the role of provider with a bit of flirtation sprinkled in. Later, after an intense shootout, Julie and Marcus lie on the bed and Julie propositions him. It’s a scene straight from Preston Sturges or Ernst Lubitsch as Julie talks right up to the precipice of saying she’s horny and wants to bang. Soon Theresa gets the whiff of the situation, heads over to Mike’s apartment where she finds Mike, Marcus, and Julie who seems to suggest that Marcus has been hiding out so the three could have a menage e trois. This is all against the hunt for a drug dealer, which includes two amazing action sequences. The first at a pure 90s dance club where everyone’s dressed in scanty goth gear. Marcus fights a man in a bathroom, providing Mission Impossible throwback resulting in an aquarium bursting open. Julie gets a gun and fires at Fouchet, resulting in an evacuation to car chase down through the miami streets. The film culminates in Marcus and Mikey tracking down the latest export of heroin, leading them to an old airport where they surround the place with police and drive a delivery truck inside and a massive shootout takes place, ending with a jet airliner exploding and the bad guys getting killed. Marcus handcuffs Julie to Mikey and walks off to return home to his wife. As far as I understand, this was the first popular buddy cop movie featuring two African American actors. They never show racism between whites and blacks, though there is a feud between them and a pair of latino officers, Sanchez (Nestor Serrano) and Ruiz (Julio Oscar Mechoso). The exchange goes so far as telling an off putting joke about immigrants drowning and grape juice and chicken, and suffice to say, it’s a pretty jarring moment. While writing this I had seen Bad Boys for Life (2020), which is a sequel that drops the series as far as Live Free, or Die Hard. I’ll let you read those thoughts separately, but it made me realize how masterful this movie is. It doesn’t achieve the heights of Bad Boys II (2003) and has a few cheesy moments, but overall it’s a solid and fun action flick; all the more impressive for being a first feature. We see Bay develop his style, in which each moment is as thrilling and cinematic as possible. BELOW: Action done right Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  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  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  Kinda like a Godly version of the Linklater's Before Series Director: Fernando Meirelles Writer: Anthony McCarten; based on The Pope by Anthony McCarten Cinematographer: César Charlone Producer: Dan Lin, Jonathan Eirich, and Tracey Seaward by Jon Cvack With a horrible and misleading title that I think makes most people assume the movie is simply about two old men talking, i’s once the opening credits role and you see Fernando Mereilles as director that you realize that, although likely still about two old men talking, it’s going to be done with all the energy required to avoid boredom. The movie opens after the death of John Paul II as the Vatican votes on the new pope. In a sequence straight out of a Michael Bay film we see the various Arch Bishops cast their ballots, failing to get the proper majority of votes; the votes tallied by dropping wooden balls into various containers, then weaving a red string through the individual names. After a few rounds, German Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger (Anthony Hopkins) is selected to become Pope Benedict XVI. Years later, one of the Cardinal’s Jorge Mario Bergogliowho (Jonathan Pryce) - who may or may not have voted for Benedict - is called in to meet the pope. I rewatched this scene before writing this, as it was the moment that hooked me into the movie. Until this point I was still ambivalent, unsure if this was going to be a grind or not. Watching it alone, I realized that this movie isn’t so much about two popes so much as two ideologies, and that this movie is very much a look at our - and the world’s - current political divide. In a brilliant sequence where each exchange warrants discussion, the two men sit in the garden. Benedict asks Jorge about some of his recent criticisms against the church; starting with the fact that the Cardinal refuses to live in the Vatican Palace. Jorge responds that he wanted a simpler life, to which Benedict strikes back stating that his desire for a simpler life implies that the Pope and other Cardinals should live simpler lives. Jorge gets the last word in by asking if anyone could. A point difficult to refute. They continue on with Benedict accusing Jorge of being his leading critic, going on to ask about the various statements Jorge had made regarding celibacy and homosexuality. Jorge defends it as being misquoted until Benedict suggests he tell the press what he actually thinks so no one misunderstands him. They continue the debate and Jorge explains how he sees the world forever changing. The church being one of the finest examples. Marriage amongst priests only started in the twelfth century, celibacy in the fifth, and angels in the fourth; point being that the things the church now holds sacred didn’t even exist at the birth of Christianity. Benedict wonders if God changes to which Jorge says of course, and that it is our journey on this changing Earth that we hope we can one day meet him. It’s perhaps the greatest explanation of one’s relationship to God I’ve heard; a point made all the more poignant when later in the film, Benedict explains that he hasn’t heard God’s voice in weeks; afraid He might be gone, or have never existed. Benedict continues inviting Jorge over for various discussions. I’m certain revisiting the film would allow each and everyone one of these interactions to warrant extensive discussion, but for the sake of a first viewing, the story continues on to reveal Benedict’s pending retirement and hope that Jorge could become the new pope; believing that Jorge’s progressive ideas could provide the type of reform required to expand patronage. We’re unsure whether it was the abuse scandal, the accusations of Nazi ancestry, lowering attendance, or a loss of faith, but as Jorge mentions, he’d be the first pope to resign without external pressure since Celestine V in 1294. Benedict retains that his decision was based on his old age. Throughout the film we watch as the men share wine and music. Benedict reveals his skills at the piano and love of The Beatles while Jorge mentions his passion for soccer. They look past their ideological differences and into what brings them together; as servants of God hoping to guide the world away from sin and toward virtue. However, we also get a look at Jorge’s checkered past, having served in Argentina during the right-wing uprising which resulted in the rounding up and execution of political dissidents. Being a liberal Jesuit, he ordered his priests to shut down their parishes to prevent further bloodshed, destroying numerous relationships in the process as the priests accused him of capitulating to the right-wing government. It’s a demonstration of the type of compromise the film promotes. Jorge may not have agreed with the far right regime, but he wasn’t prepared to allow additional death. It poses a tricky question as to how to stand up to violent extremism. Either you can die by physical fights, or you can die by the intellectual ones. Do your best to change things from the inside; especially if you’re approaching it from a pro-life perspective. Eventually, Jorge becomes Pope Francis and Benedict resigns. The two allegedly retain a friendship; the film ends with the two watching the World Cup featuring their respective homelands, Argentina and Germany. We’re not sure why Francis supported Jorge. The cynic makes me think that, for the church, he knew it’d need a significant shift. On the other hand, he might have grasped the ideas that Jorge expressed; that the God and therefore the church are always changing, and to commit oneself to a particular ideology is to appeal to a narrower and narrower set of people. It doesn’t take much to extend the ideas to our own politics. As of this writing, tonight the Republican Party voted to deny additional witnesses at Donald Trump’s first impeachment. It’s an enraging and terrifying moment, in which there’s no other explanation than politics - that is, their own careers - that can explain the decision. John Bolton’s testimony is risky. They have spent the last two months criticizing the witnesses for failing to have firsthand knowledge. John Bolton can provide that and has confirmed the accusations, but they have no desire to make that public. Then again, in an effort to take a lesson from The Two Popes, perhaps they know Bolton’s book and subsequent media blitz is inevitable and whatever he talked about behind closed doors will be revealed afterwards. Even with his testimony - no matter how damning - there’d never be a conviction. They are aware of the hypocrisy and understood the risk. Putting this up nearly two years later, they succeeded short term. Most people I’m sure can’t even remember what the first impeachment was even about. Conservatives by their very name are Benedict in this case. They see a nation that is changing and are failing to adapt; leaning further and further into their white, Christian base. There’s a David Frum quote going around, “If conservatives become convinced that they can not win democratically, they will not abandon conservatism. They will reject democracy.” If too many people are voting for someone you disagree with, prevent their votes from being worth as much. Publishing this about a year later, we’re now seeing this exact action in Texas, Florida, and dozens of other Republican led state governments. It requires taking logic to its very end. First you have to convince people of illegal voting and fraud, and then if experts question that premise, call out the experts as partisan. It demands division. It thrives on us versus them; all the more inflamed when it creates a vicious spiral and both sides believe the other is destroying the country. The Two Popes portrays a movie about an ideology that is forced to change and adapt; to see the other side as desiring an equally virtuous outcome. It calls for a time of bipartisanship and empathy. All matters aside of how the Vatican is structured compared to liberal government, it shows the beauty and humility in trying to understand. Of course, Donald Trump is a foul and disgusting human being, and until he’s gone, I don’t think any of this is possible. As Benedict hasn’t heard God, we have to bide our time and retain hope that the journey provides brighter times ahead. In full honesty, I’m becoming increasingly unsure. Fortunately, I was wrong, though I'm not sure for how long. BELOW: Talking progress 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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