 Was he real? Don't know. Don't really care Director: Larry Cohen Writer: Larry Cohen Cinematographer: George Folsey Producer: Larry Cohen by Jon Cvack Bone was the second film from my friend’s Divided America series; featuring the legendary Yaphet Kotto (of Alien (1979) fame) as the film’s title character. Directed by B-movie filmmaker Larry Cohen (of The Stuff (1985) and It’s Alive (1974)), who arrived in the back of the book store to introduce the film, and provided a long and entertaining story about how he bounced from studio to studio to try and sell the thing; finally finding a buyer and launching his career. The opening is a Fellini-esque surrealistic sequence, taking place in a junkyard where dead bodies fill each of the automobiles. It then cuts to the backyard of a rich Beverly Hills couple - Bernadette (Joyce Van Patten) and Bill (Andrew Duggan); Bill as a car salesman and Bernadette who doesn’t work, instead opting for endless margaritas throughout the day. When a rat ends up in the gutter, Bill and Bernadette are at a loss for what to do and suddenly Bone appears; kneeling down next to the pool and grabbing the rodent. Problem solved. The couple are horrified at the situation; both disgusted by the rat and that a black man is in their backyard. Bone takes them hostage, going straight to the husband’s office where he ravages the place, looking for money. He doesn’t find any and reveals Bill’s dire financial situation. He owes far more than he’s taking in. Bone demands he go to the bank and retrieve the remaining few thousand dollars that exist and pay him off and he’ll spill the beans. Bill heads out while Bone stays back, vowing to rape Bernadette if he doesn’t return. Soon Bernadette convinces Bone to let her make some strong blended margaritas in the game room, where after a quick drink, he attacks her; ripping off her clothes and exhibiting a terrifying rape scene that embodies the idea of why I think we filmmakers should reserve these explicit scenes for historical events only. I’ve seen enough of them - most recently in Wind River (2017) - and whatever shock value it provides is nothing beyond shock value itself. Cinema works best with the power of suggestion, but to watch a man explicitly sexually assault a woman seems next to impossible to defend in most, non-historical situations. There’s no reason to see it, and I think the only people who take pleasure from it are the ones who shouldn’t see them in the first place. Yet, in what would become all the more common in the 80s, Bernadette, though naked, bruised, and terrified soon finds herself sexually attracted to bone and the pair later have consensual sex; with Bone providing Bernadette one of the first orgasms she’s had in a long time - if not ever. Meanwhile, at the bank, Bill runs into an attractive young kleptomaniac, named The Girl (Jeannie Berlin), who brings him along on an adventure around town (similar as to that seen in Joe) in which they head to a local grocery store where she gets Bill to steal some steaks, which she cooks well done on a hot pan in her cramped apartment before she then seduces him; providing Bill with a night of equally passionate lovemaking. Postcoital, Bone and Bernadette devise a plan to kill Bill in order to retrieve his insurance, kickstarting the film’s third act, in which the pair chase Bill down, quickly elevating to a car chase which lead the pair onto a bus that drops them off near the sand hills of Malibu, where Bernadette smothers and suffocates Bill with sand. She then looks up and Bone’s gone. One of the first references people made was to Mike Nichol’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966; 1962). It’s been awhile since I’ve seen the film, and while I think back on what it was about exactly it was about - a marital dramedy about an upper middle class married couple who drink and fight all night, whose son had recently died - I’m not sure why I also had felt the same way. I suppose instead of the tease of murder from Albee, the fantasy is actualized. And simplified. The next comment made was whether or not Bone was an actual person, or figment of their imagination. Remove him from the film, and it’s a story of Bill going to the bank, meeting and sleeping with a random girl, then getting murdered by his wife. Bone’s addition provides both an enlightening and pejorative view of Black America. On the one hand, Bone’s unique lifestyle breaks the conservatism of the upper class white people. On the other, he’s presented as a complete brute with next to no moral code; embodying the stereotypes so often launched toward them. He might not rape Bernadette, but he unequivocally assaults her. He might not murder Bill, but if he definitely coaxes her into the act, and would be an accessory to murder. If Bone was real, the film tops off his unscrupulousness by allowing a criminal to go free and wreak his havoc again. Over the weeks since seeing this I’ve tried to consider a different view of the film. Floating above Bone’s character logic is, I suppose, a comment on Black American; a satire in which white America’s upper class confront their greatest fear. However, the more I try and take this apart and see what the message ultimately aimed to explore, I’m left reaching. As we never see Bernadette and Bill entering into the violence bickering like George and Martha from Who’s Afraid, I never saw any reason for Bernadette to want to kill her husband beyond his lying about their finances, failing to give her an orgasm, or falling in love with Bone; and still that fails to justify what takes place, and worse, adds another layer of immorality to Bone. All the while Bill is presented as a similarly unscrupulous man - failing to pay his bills, cheating on his wife, all while earning a living selling luxury cars. But again, beyond those traits, I’m not sure what I was supposed to take away. He was a bad person who didn’t necessarily deserve death, failing to change or follow any form of arc. It makes me consider the ways in which bigotry existed even with liberal and inclusive intent; the way the 90s satires (i.e., Scary Movie (2000)) highlighted the fact that while most teen-oriented films, whether horror or rom com, contained black characters; they were almost always portrayed as hip one-dimensional comedy relief who speak in cheap racial phrase (“Man, that’s whack!”), never getting the girl, never going through much of any transformation, and are often killed first in horror films. Looking back, you realize how often this was the case. In terms of Bone, I’m left wondering if the intention was to make Bone a noble anti-hero, but remained mired in racial stereotypes and white class fears. BELOW: Hey, but the music's good! 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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 Peter Boyle as the perfect Red Hat Director: John G. Avildsen Writer: Norman Wexler Cinematographer: David Gil Producer: John G. Avildsen by Jon Cvack A friend of mine announced on Facebook that he was going to host a "Divided America" film series, featuring some 70s classics that parallel this Trump Era. I actually met this guy through the Criterion Collection Facebook page back nearly 10 years ago when you could friend people you didn’t have any connections to. After ten years, we finally met in person at the film screening series in Los Angeles. He introduced the film perfectly in that it took on an eerie bell curve - once regarded as brutally accurate, then leveling off to seem aged (particularly under Obama), and is returning once again to its origins. It’s a perfect follow up to any of the Vietnam era classics - Easy Rider (1969), Bonnie and Clyde (1967), The Wild Bunch (1969), or Midnight Cowboy (1969); depicting an intensely real side and stark side to life that I had never really seen before before getting into cinema. Joe's cover and synopsis makes the film appear about the central character Joe Compton and yet it opens up in a junkie’s house where a young hippie, Melissa (Susan Sarandon in one of her earliest roles; five years before Rocky Horror Picture Show), takes a bath when her deadbeat drug dealing boyfriend Frank Rizzo (Patrick McDermott) enters the apartment, anxious to shoot up. Later, before Frank heads to a coffee shop to try and make some deals he gives Melissa a pill, which she takes and causes her to enter into a random bodega, grab some lipstick, draw it all over her face and then carome down the aisles, knocking everything she can find off the shelves. She wakes up in the hospital where we then meet her white collar parents, Bill Compton (Dennis Patrick) and his wife Joan Compton (Audrey Caire). They learn of Frank and Bill heads back to Melissa’s apartment where a stoned Frank then returns. The two get into an argument and soon wrestle on the ground, culminating in Bill killing Frank and he then leaves the dead body behind. Bill ends up at a local dive bar where the film’s title character, Joe (Peter Boyle), is in the middle of a drunken racist tirade, shouting every epithet in the book. It was this scene in particular which my friend highlighted; just but two years ago, this sort of screen would be too fantastical and old fashioned; impossible to exist in the Obama years. Now, in the Trump age, as countless viral videos have displayed similar heinous rants, this felt right on point. Caught up in Joe’s ideas about race, liberalism, and hippies, and still shocked over what he did, Bill admits he killed a hippie, piquing Joe’s interest. From there the narrative shifts, and we follow Joe home, where his wife, Mary Lou (K Callan), preps mashed potatoes for dinner, and pops open a fresh beer for him. He tells her about his day and when she attempts to reciprocate, he ignores her, turning back to the tv, chowing down his Salisbury steak drenched in ketchup. He heads downstairs to his Man Cave where he keeps a collection of guns, pops a couple more beers, and cleans a handgun. Days later, Joe sees a news report of what sounds like the murder. He calls up Bill at work to have him and Joan over for dinner at their house. Fearful that Joe is going to blackmail him, Bill accepts, and the two head over; providing a tale of two classes. Mary Lou serves the drink and plays the friendly host, serving them cheap drinks and canned nuts for an appetizer. However, when Mary Lou keeps ranting about the blinds and furnishing, an embarrassed Joe tells her to shut up; making things even more awkward. It’s a subtle point, but there’s a great revelation here about Joe and Mary Lou’s marriage; both ranting about things that people don’t care about as though they’re together because they had and have no one else. Joe takes Bill down to see his gun collection, revealing rare - and illegal - pieces; some he got off his dead enemies during the war. Bill reads far more into it than Joe might mean, fearing the result of what could happen if Bill failed to live up to Joe’s demands. Later, Joe and Bill head to a dive bar and learn about each other’s lives. Joe’s a union man making close to four dollars an hour while Bill is pulling in $60,000 per year. Joe continues with his rants against hippies, liberals, and blacks, quickly acquiring the admiration of Bill who’s dealing with the dangers first hand; coming full circle when Bill, a successful white collar guy, agrees and further legitimates Joe’s ideas. The night continues, and Joe brings Bill to one of his urbane and expensive bars where they meet one of his colleagues. Bill encourages Joe to put on an act as a new vice president coming into the company which Joe fully embraces; providing a brilliant complexity as I drifted between thinking it was a condescending prank against Joe, or that it provided Joe, who ate it up, a better insight into Bill’s superficial world. Meanwhile, Melissa escapes from the hospital, heads home and overhears her father talk about the murder; fearful that she could be next, as yet another doomed hippie. She runs off once again, and it’s clear that this was likely a repeated situation before she ended up with Frank. Bill calls up Joe in order to help him find his daughter; leaving us wondering if he wants Joe as a friend, or Joe as the gun carrying bigot who would be just crazy enough to combat another problem like Frank. So begins a sub-genre per the likes After Hours (1985) or The Hangover (2009). Long into the night they hunt Melissa down, first going to a bar where Bill brings a bag of hard drugs he stole from Frank. A group of hippies see them, bummed that father figures have crashed their place. They decide to mess with the pair, learn about the drugs and invite the pair back to an apartment they’re squatting in. This has to be one of the first scenes featuring two old dudes breaking out of their shell to smoke some weed and join the “cool kids”, and somehow it goes further than most ever have. What begins as a friendly exploration of weed and shrooms (Joe takes the shrooms) quickly progresses into a explicit sex scene, as both Bill and Joe each sleep with one of the hippies, enjoying all the excitement and feeling that both being high and having sex with young attractive women in their prime could possibly offer. For a second, as dark as the movie had been, I thought perhaps that the film was aiming toward this - that both Bill and Joe would redeem themselves and see that hippies aren’t all that bad, and that they had it wrong all along. But the scene goes even further, and while Bill enjoys himself, Joe struggles to pleasure his partner, getting more and more frustrated as the film cuts back to Bill who passes out. The men with the girls steal both the drugs and their wallets, leaving the women behind. When Joe wakes up, he grabs his empty pants, storms into the bedroom and strangles the woman, demanding to know where he can find the others; the strangulation goes on just a bit longer than you expect, and becoming all the more terrifying because of it. There was a distinct feeling of disappointment in this moment; as I realized that my hope for them to change didn’t just dwindle, but served to further legitimize their bigotry. It’s not just that they hate, but that they view those lives as worthless and expendable. Up to the torture scene, the film follows and relatively dark comedic route, and immediately the tone shifts. Joe and Bill end up at a hippie commune in the middle of nowhere, where before going in, Joe pops open his trunk and grabs a couple rifles. Bill initially rejects the offer, then accepts, following Joe him inside, where Joe proceeds to shoot down and slaughter each of the hippies; whether they beg for their lives or not. Others appear and Joe commands Bill to help him take them down. As Bill knew with Frank, he knows that there’s no way any person could leave if he hopes to retain his life and freedom. Amidst the chaos, one girl runs out and Bill shoots her in the back; a freeze frame showing it’s Melissa. The conclusion immediately recalls the cynicism of Easy Rider or Bonnie and Clyde; films that captured a deeply divided, post Civil Rights nation; seemingly never ending as Vietnam continued on and assassinations claimed a politician per year from JFK to John Lennon. One of the questions discussed was why this film hadn’t been able to stand the test of time. There were a range of responses - from the fact that Joe’s rhetoric was too offensive, especially during Obama’s term; some so offended that they couldn’t see Joe as anything other than a subhuman; unworthy of any of their sympathies or understanding. It was this incapability of empathizing with Joe that made me most alarmed, as I struggle to think of any time in history when viewing a certain type of person as anything but subhuman has been followed by a healthy policy. The moment someone like Joe and others like him are seen as inferior, then his rights are limited per the law, and should an authority’s fear reach fever pitch, it’s easy to see how quickly the remaining rights would corrode. What I saw was an ignorant man, who as a result of little education, was limited to thinking of grossly superficial reasons as to why his own life and the culture around him were so despicable. LBJ said it best, “If you can convince the lowest white man he’s better than the best colored man, he won’t notice you’re picking his pocket. Hell, give him somebody to look down on, and he’ll empty his pockets for you.” That quote alone sums of a large part of the bigotry in this country; if people are poor and can’t afford to educate themselves to escape their limitations, then it’s easier to have them believe gays, women, immigrants, or black people are responsible for their hardships rather than complex ideas about economics, history, or science. Joe works a repetitive job at the mill, goes home to his equally uninteresting wife, drinks beer and plays with his guns. That’s his existence, which wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t take his bigotry to the public and start spouting off. My empathy topped out when Bill invited him back to the yuppie bar in downtown. Joe’s eyes widen as he gets to be part of the upper class. He might have even seen Bill as an opportunity to get ahead. With the girl he murdered, I got a sense that if the girl offered to see him again, he might have forgotten all about his wallet; thrilled that someone interesting and attractive was into him. Instead, his bigotry was corroborated by a petty theft; supporting all he ever feared and believed in. While either the girl or the job might have activated his passion, instead he was left with his guns and a complex situation he knew nothing about. The teens were drug addicts, failing to produce the change they attempted, and struggling to keep going with what they believed in. Instead he saw the obstacle standing in the way of his happiness. On the other hand, we see Bill pulled further to the right, succumbing to the temptation to kill what he doesn’t understand, rather than ignore it. What Joe does so well and subtly is balance and provide reason to both sides. Frank is a deadbeat drug dealer who caused Bill’s daughter to overdose and the hippies did steal their money. It showed radicalization existing on the far left as well as the far right. As noble as the hippie’s intention might have been, they were now living in squalor, hooked on heroin, and stealing whatever they needed to maintain their petty existence. It didn’t warrant a mass slaughtering, but it doesn’t provide a clear cut divide between the good and evil. The more the film settled, the more I saw how perfect Joe is for these times. The story is very much about a breaking point; where words suddenly change to action over some innocuous event. As the protests erupt on both sides, and violence grows (at the time of writing this, the all-male/white supremacist Proud Boys were caught on video battering some Antifa members who stole a MAGA hat), it feels almost inevitable that there will be a boiling point sometime soon; when one side no longer believes screaming at each other is enough and resorts to the next step. Given that we’re now knee deep in the Covid Lockdon and this same crowd is demanding the world reopen for them and their needs, the water might be beginning to bubble. BELOW: The exact ending you expect from a politically charged 1970s flick Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Joan Bennett as one of noir's finest femme fatales Director: Fritz Lang Writer: Nunnally Johnson; based on Once Off Guard by J. H. Wallis Cinematographer: Milton R. Krasner Producer: Nunnally Johnson by Jon Cvack Continued from Part 1... Alice catches whiff of the illogic. She asks why he wouldn’t just go to the police and get the ten thousand dollars. Heidt reveals that he knows that she was involved with the murder, and so either she pays him, or he tells the police what he knows. The best part is that the scene ends without answering the question. Again, why would he not just ask for $10,000 from Alice? She immediately realizes that even if she somehow escapes the police, there’s no incentive to ever keep Heidt from blackmailing her when she couldn't pay off the next demand; it creates a great sense of what all noirs explore - inevitable demise. Alice asks Richad to help him with the payment, explaining that he is at least partially to blame for the incident. By now Richad has been hearing the case’s progress from Frank and piecing together not just the details, but the methodology. In a calm and articulate manner he explains that they’re left with three options - keep paying Heidt until they’re broke; tell the police and confess; or kill Heidt altogether. Richard decides to pick up some poison at the pharmacy, shot in a long take at the counter where we watch details unfold - Richard writing his name down in a ledger; the pharmacist warning about possible death; and Richard’s overall tough guy rudeness. Richard hands off the poison at Alice’s apartment who meets Heidt upstairs. All dolled up, she welcomes Heidt inside and explains that she doesn’t have all the money; hoping he’d take half of what he asked. He agrees and she offers him a drink; moving on into the kitchen where we watch her use a double sided glass jigger, pouring the first shot into one side laced with the poison, then flipping the jigger and pouring herself a portion with the clean side. She proceeds to make two delicious looking scotch and sodas as Heidt moves in behind her, explaining his general cynicism.The tension begins to mount and they head back to the couches, allowing you to revisit the scene and discover further complexities. In a brilliant exchange that I’ve had to watch four times to fully understand, Heidt somehow is able to ask about Richard and uses Alice’s response about not wanting to talk to the guy that everything is then “kosher”; wondering why if everything’s so great she wouldn’t just keep the money and deal with the cops. Alice expresses her own cynicism in refusing to believe the corrupt cops could help her in any way without cooking up a story. When considered, the leap makes no close to no sense, and yet that’s the precise power of Fritz Lang; allowing the character’s body language to express ideas and allow the dialogue to remain more nuanced, or even abstract. Heidt requests that Alice runs off with him instead, even going so far as to return the money, then explaining that all she had to do was look in the mirror to understand why. He too is overwhelmed with her beauty, willing to behave foolishly at a shot with her. Most impressive is Joan Bennett’s ability to either feign or actually express confusion while maintaining the same smooth tone. She returns to the kitchen to add some ice to Hedit’s drink, then returns, trying to hand it back to him. In a brilliant and intense static two shot, where not even the characters move, we watch as Heidt’s doubt rises, fully aware that she had poisoned the drink. He then points a finger toward her, which she can’t see through the glass, his voice picking up, the two remain absolutely still, and then he flicks the glass out of her hand, slaps her across the face, and tosses her onto the bed. I’m left struggling who else could have pulled off such an incredible and tight rise and shift in character, all without moving little beyond the eyes and pointer finger. He finds and takes the remaining $5,000, then demands that she call up Richard once again and get another $5,000 and so the con begins. We never know whether which parts of the plan were discussed with Richard; whether Alice simply intended to try and buy Heidt off with the five grand and split with the rest, or whether it was all a performance by Alice to try and use her looks to seduce and kill Hedit. Alice calls up Richard, explaining the situation, and Richard calls it quits. He either knows he can’t, or doesn’t have the money, then hangs up as she shouts for help. Richard takes a slow walk to the rear of his apartment, where he enters a bathroom, and removes the poison. Back to Alice, she lies on the bed, head buried in her arm and rear toward us - an image which provides a strange feeling of lust and empathy; as though Lang knew that, like the other men, we the viewers might also sacrifice our better judgment to accommodate her wishes. She’s startled by gunshots, and Lang cuts again to outside the apartment where, in a wide, we see the police in the middle of the wet streets, caught in a shootout. What begins with one police car in the frame soon fills with another as people then enter in the frame from all directions. We learn that the police had shot down Heidt; discovering the money in his suit jacket, along with the diamond plated medallion with the initials “C.M.” Heidt had stolen from Alice; which Claude Mazard had left behind. One of the street cops had seen Heidt the night before, approached the man, who then opened fire. Alice finds a phone and calls Richard. He’s shown in a chair, nodding off, with the poison taking effect as the phone rings. In one of the film’s best shots, the camera pushes in slowly, from a wide to an extreme close up, the ring fading off in the background and the image distorting around the edges. We assume we’re watching Richard die and then a hand enters the frame, attempting to wake Richard up. It’s one of the servers from his club. The whole thing was a dream. Richard leaves and heads outside, finding the same painting still there. Alice’s image appears over the glass and a woman’s voice speaks offscreen, asking for a light. Richard turns around and discovers a blonde and attractive, though different woman. He refuses to assist her in a humorous hurry and moves on. It’s cliche to even mention the resentment most feel for stories that were “all a dream.” Identity (2003) might be the greatest movie ever made which had been ruined by the result. However, Woman in the Window is more along the lines of “A Christmas Carol”; in which we never quite know whether it was all a dream or not. In Richard's case, we struggle with the same; never quite sure it was all a dream, he exists in some form of purgatory where the fantasy repeats again and again, or if he did, in fact, die; finding an after life that allowed him to re-decide his choice. If pressed, I’d say that it was all a dream; serving as a type cautionary tale for men who wish to wander beyond the nest. Yet given the depth in most of Lang’s work, I’m not completely unwilling to give up the eternal recurrence of hell; there’s something about the dreamlike photography that makes it feel like an artificial incubus; a bit claustrophobic, and with limited places to hide. It’s a movie where the feeling alone is warning enough; as the story is supplemental to the images. It’s one of noir’s best. BELOW: Little else in the way of YouTube so here's the trailer Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Edward G changing things up Director: Fritz Lang
Writer: Nunnally Johnson; based on Once Off Guard by J. H. Wallis Cinematographer: Milton R. Krasner Producer: Nunnally Johnson by Jon Cvack Fritz Lang is one of only a handful of filmmakers that have been able to evolve into two distinct forms of filmmaking - the silent picture and film noir. The only other three I think match the astounding progress is Kubrick, Agnes Varda, and John Frankenheimer moving from black and white to color; and Ozu and Chaplin for leaping from silent to sound. However, even all these filmmakers more or less made the same types of films. Lang went from telling action-adventure pieces, then turning entirely to noir; creating some of the genre’s finest titles.* Woman in the Window focuses on Edward G. Robinson as the conservative and uptight psychology professor Richard Wanley recently sends his wife and child on vacation for a few weeks; meeting his friends at the club that very night. While he enjoys a cigar and whiskey, he rarely exceeds two drinks and is typically out by eleven. Finishing up one evening, Richard leaves the bar, and comes across an oil painting of a beautiful woman in a window storefront, staring at it longingly. The next day he returns to the club, staying late for another drink. He returns to the painting and the subject then appears in the glass; as though coming to life. A woman introduces herself as Alice Reed (Joan Bennett) as though out of a fantasy or some wild dream; inviting him back to her place for a drink for reasons unknown which Richard fails to rationally consider. The hours pass by until Richard realizes it’s 1am and Alice seems uninterested in having Richard leave anytime soon. There’s then a knock at the door and a recent paramour Claude Mazard (Arthur Loft) enters to find them together and strikes Alice in a jealous rage. Claude then attacks Richard who grabs a pair of scissors, stabs Claude in the back and kills him. Alice begs Richard to help her cover up the body which he agrees to do. It’s this scene that shows Lang’s complete mastery of cinema; of which, if even done today, would garner celebration. In a long wide take, Alice turns on the lights one by one, revealing the room and its geography; preparing the viewer for where each player is within the space, even when shot close. Before Claude arrives, Alice convinces Richard to have another drink; handing him another bottle of champagne which he tries to pop, then cutting his finger on the edge of the wire. He then asks for a pair of scissors which Alice hands over. We now know the placement of the scissors for when Wanley needs to kill Claude; nodding to the audience while also adding a nice irony in that if Wanley didn’t agree to stay for another drink he would have not just left without killing a man, but probably wouldn’t have been able to kill the man at all. As Richard is about to call the cops, he puts down the phone and asks Alice what she knows about Claude, which is very little. She reveals that he’s just some random man that she met on the train. She doesn’t know anymore about him. Wanley offers to get his car in order to transfer the body. Alice accuses him of fleecing her; demanding he leave his vest before leaving. He heads back home to grab his car as a heavy rain pours down. He returns to Alice’s, grabs the body and heads off to the middle of a national park; tosses a dime to the crossing guard while cruising by the entrance, having to stop and reverse, then hand the guard a dollar bill after the guard nearly catches sight of Claude. It’s up there with the best of any thriller, as we wonder not whether he’ll immediately see the guard again so much as serve as the first unexpected element to contest his account. He then parks and drags the body off the road, hiding it below a barbed wire fence and cutting his hand. The next night he returns to the club and we’re introduced to his friend Frank Lalor and district attorney Frank Lalor (Raymond Massey) who has just learned that a big time businessman, Claude Mazard, has gone missing and suspected to be murdered. Richard mistakenly asks why Frank would assume that a missing man was killed. Neither of Robert’s club buddies make much of the comment, but Robert’s paranoia and interest grow. The police later discover the body and Frank invites Robert to come along on an investigation to the crime scene. Torn between guilt and excitement, Robert agrees and they return to the side of the highway where Robert cut his hand while dumping the body. Meanwhile, a crooked cop, Heidt (Dan Duryea), gets whiff of the case, piecing together the details, providing a brilliant use of blocking and dialogue. He enters Alice’s apartment and heads straight for the couch, perusing the cushions, and removing - or likely pretending to remove - a piece of hair from the seat cushion; moving over to the end table where he lifts up a glass cigarette holder that was picked up by Richard during the murder; the camera pulls out, revealing Alice’s apartment once again and Heidt moves to the other side to the vanity where he comments, “Not a finger mark anywhere. Not even where you’d think they’d be naturally," as he grabs a bottle of perfume. He then opens a drawer and finds a pair of scissors, holding them up and catching the light’s glare. Again he moves on to another side of the room to her dresser, looking in her underwear and stocking drawer, landing on a glove where he finds a pen inside which contains the initials R.W., demanding to know who the person is. Alice looks down and finds a newspaper with Richard’s face on the cover, agreeing to help Heidt with whatever he wants, leading him to grab the newspaper and fold it up, gleaming at his own success. The police have a $10,000 reward for information on the murder, but Heidt says, “Doesn’t see it that way” (a beautifully cryptic statement). He wants $5,000 from Alice instead, believing that Alice must have received cash from Claude, and vows to rat her out to the police. Alice catches whiff of the illogic. She asks why he wouldn’t just go to the police and get the ten thousand dollars. Heidt reveals that he knows that she was involved with the murder, and so either she pays him, or he tells the police what he knows. The best part is that the scene ends without answering the question. Again, why would he not just ask for $10,000 from Alice? She immediately realizes that even if she somehow escapes the police, there’s no incentive to ever keep Heidt from blackmailing her when she couldn't pay off the next demand; it creates a great sense of what all noirs explore - inevitable demise. Continue to Part 2... BELOW: Found this colorized scene of Robinson's initial meeting the femme fatale Joan Bennett Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Not sure what really happened, but it sure was fun to look at Director: Akira Kurosawa Writer: Hideo Oguni, Eijirō Hisaita, Akira Kurosawa, Ryūzō Kikushima, and Shinobu Hashimoto Cinematographer: Yuzuru Aizawa Producer: Akira Kurosawa and Tomoyuki Tanaka by Jon Cvack This is one of the few times I’ve watched a movie twice in a row in order to grasp its details. I was on a week of early call time production, putting this on at 5am when my mind just couldn’t possibly follow the details. Watching it again, I was less than certain of how the puzzle all fit together. Due to work, it then took me about two weeks to get to writing about this so I’ll be leaning on Wikipedia more than a bit. The story is a corporate espionage thriller, opening at a Godfather style wedding; in which mega corporation Public Corpo’s* Vice President Iwabuchi’s (Masayuki Mori) crippled and average daughter Yoshiki (Kyōko Kagawa) is getting married to the President’s handsome secretary Kōichi Nishi(Toshiro Mifune). Recently, one of their co-workers Assistant Chief Furuya had allegedly committed suicide by jumping out the top floor window; that, or maybe he was pushed. Either way, given the recent tragedy, it doesn’t seem exactly aboveboard. The most memorable part of these scenes are the News Reporters who follow the action while narrating what’s going on. It reminds of Shakespeare without any specific play in mind; making me think it was Kurosawa simply taking influence and creating his own way of immersing us within the story. I thought of how else the situation could be explained without long draining conversations that talked in circles in order to convey details; that or a title card that simply threw us in. I struggle to think of another film that has done something this interesting; in which we follow a band of characters as they narrate the set up to the film. The wedding ends when a mysterious cake in the shape of the building and the man who fell rolls out. Speeches are given by both various men; with Yoshiki’s brother declaring that if Nishi’s intentions are anything short of honorable he’s going to kill him. The News Men provide just enough humor to prevent the situation from becoming too heavy. The police then arrive and arrest a middle management corporate assistant officer Wada (Kamatari Fujiwara) for bribery; learning that word of the suicide put to rest rumors about the company’s finances. Why did Chief Furuya kill himself, or was he murdered? I’m still unclear, though I know it’s in there. Days after the wedding the police talk to one of the accountants at Public Corp name Miuna who’s so spooked out by the consequences that he throws himself in front of a car. Wada then heads to a Volcano in order to end his own life; shot in a dystopic scene where smoke billows from jagged crevices. In the wonderful series included on most Criterion Kurosawa films “Isn’t it Wonderful to Create!” - which is essentially a fifty minute documentary on the making of most of his major films - they mention how Kurosawa demanded they add as much smoke as possible; even though there was already actual volcano smoke rising up; going through hundreds of barrels of smoke in order to enhance the effect. He’s stopped by Nishi (the recent groom), who demands Wada stay alive in order to gain revenge on the company; learning that while the men like Minua and Furuyua killed themselves out of their own volition, it was also due to feeling unwavering commitment to the company’s welfare. They were loyal bureaucrats who had lost all sense of self; serving entirely for the company that views them as dispensable. Nishi then turns to the contract officer Shirai (Ko Nishimura), setting him up to look like a thief to both Iwabuchi and Moriyama. Later Shirai reveals that he was the illegitimate son of Furuya and is determined to avenge his father’s death. Intimidated by Nishi and his besmirching antics, Shirai slowly unwinds before going completely insane. Moriyama soon suspects that someone connected to Furuyua is operating behind the scenes to manipulate Shira and others; telling Iwabuchi (again, the brother of the recent bride Yoshiki) that he’s going to avenge his sister’s honor, attempting to kill Nishi. As the double dealing and manipulation spiral out of control, I quickly got lost in the web; partially due to Kurosawa’s gorgeous framing techniques. One scene involves Nishi and Shirai in the car, utilizing what Kurosawa described as Deep Focus to maintain all of the elements of the frame. What’s odd is that to achieve such a thing typically requires a wide lens that make the subjects in the foreground smaller and yet someone the shot looks like a medium and yet it preserves the focus; making me think Kurosawa moved the subjects closer to the car and place the camera as closely as possible to the subjects. Added was that it was supposed to be raining and, again, the art director had to explain that he couldn’t achieve Kurosawa’s vision; never an easy conversation to have as I’ve heard in most of these docs. If I remember correctly, it actually was a lighting problem, as they couldn’t get enough light to get the outside subjects in focus; which then exceeds my understanding of photography. Reading the remaining synopsis, I realize I’d be left simply reciting the Wikipedia page, as the plot grows so complex that I’m more in awe of how the script was written. Essentially, Nishi soon mentioned in the documentary was the team of a half dozen or so writers who would essentially divide up the labor; often butting heads with Kurosawa who demanded the story go in a different direction. As a result, the complexity diminishes the story, as it’s so confusing that you essentially have to avoid being in awe of Kurosawa’s gorgeous imagery and the cast’s phenomenal performances all distracted me from properly following the narrative; even after a back to back viewing. It’s this exact style that embodies the world it’s portraying. The film was based on some big business corruption taking place in Japan around the same time; something I imagine wouldn’t make national headlines in our own country. The story explores the dangers of committing loyalty to causes that reciprocates nothing. As of writing this, Trump’s former senior campaign chairman Paul Manafort has agreed to “fully cooperate” with the Mueller investigation. His connections include being present at the Trump tower meeting; changing the official RNC platform against arming Ukraine with weapons to fight against Russia; and connections to both the Russian oligarchy, intelligence officers, and potentially mafia members. Listening to Meet the Press on the way up to a drop off, one of the guests mentions that Trump’s biggest downfall could very well be his demand of full loyalty from those closest to him while providing none in return. The idea is Shakespearean in nature; an idea I’m sure would fascinate Kurosawa; demonstrating that powerful people being fully corrupted knows no particular age or time. It will remain with humanity forever. The Bad Sleep Well explores a similar idea; in which company bureaucrats devote themselves entirely to a cause, going so far as to die for it, when the business views them as nothing more than replaceables cogs. The nebulous titles indicate such - administrative officer, contract officer, accountant; titles that aren’t just meaningless in name but sound absolutely banal; as though the only meaning these individuals received in life was to commit themselves to a cause. Each documentary on the Criterion discs open with Kurosawa signing a photo at the bottom, writing, “Isn’t it fun to create!” As demanding as he might have been, everyone interviewed appears to fully comprehend that the art they created is some of the best in cinematic history; respecting and honoring the man who pushed them to best of their abilities.The saddest part about The Bad Sleep Well is that none of the characters appear to feel anywhere close to that sense of accomplishment or creation. *For some reason Wikipedia has this as Unexploited Land Development Corporation; while Criterion had it translated as Public Corp. I prefer the latter, but I wonder where the Wikipedia person heard the phrase BELOW: You don't realize how awesome this scene is until you're in a movie theater with hundreds of others Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Not sure how this didn't work Director: Peter Berg Writer: Lea Carpenter; story by Graham Roland and Lea Carpenter Cinematographer: Jacques Jouffret Producer: Peter Berg, Mark Wahlberg, and Stephen Levinson by Jon Cvack Peter Berg has been on a roll since Lone Survivor (2013), following it up with a modern disaster porn epic Deep Horizon (2016), and then later that year following the Boston bombing with the quiet release of Patriots Day (2016), which while not as great of a film, was nonetheless a close third. Berg is our generation’s action director. He’s Michael Bay meeting Tony Scott, and like those filmmakers he occasionally makes a dud. Berg and Wahlberg joining forces yet again was enough of a reason for me to check out the film. It involves an elite paramilitary special forces team who deals with some of the world’s worst problems. The film opens up with a great bait and switch. We watch as a married couple arrive to a quaint house in the middle of nowhere where they argue about whether or not they’re at the right place; improvising in that annoying way some movies do and going on endlessly before entering into a badass action scene as we learn the couple is actually part of a police task force, infiltrating the home to get intelligence and joined by both Wahlberg as the team’s leader named James Silva, joined by Ronda Rousey as Sam Snow (aka “Child 3”). The operation is meant to secure the highly toxic caesium but the perps gain the upper hand, killing a few from Silva’s team, ending in a bomb that blows up the house in the middle of the suburbs. One young man escapes, warning Silva against killing him in cold blood. Bishop calls into his boss James Bishop (John Malkovich), who approves the kill, and Silva shoots him in the head; which I assume was meant to be edgy and intense - which it was - but also felt like a weird way to introduce a character that we’re supposed to care about. The mission continues 16 months later in Indonesia when a former cop, Li Moor (Iko Uwais), asks for asylum and an escort out of the country; offering a heavily encrypted hard drive with the location of the remaining caesium. Bishop gets his young hacking team on it while one of his best lieutenants (if not literally a lieutenant, then at least figuratively), Alice Kurr, aka Child 2 (Lauren Cohan), who receives a video call on some weird app that prevents her from using expletives while calling home to her daughter on some strange, bulky satellite phone that looks like a prop from the 1990s rather than a current piece of technology; which she then throws down after saying motherfucker or something and the thing shatters, even though it looks as though it should be bulletproof. Li Moore is the film’s best character, playing a political dissident who meditates with his fingers (I believe it’s called Sa Ta Ma Na Meditation) which essentially acts like a fuse, building excitement for when he finally breaks down; which is during some moment in the hospital, where for the whole scene I felt like he was simply a psychopathic terrorist that wanted to kill innocent civilians, but in fact were government assassins posing as staff. It’s only at about thirty to forty minutes than we get to what the title implies the movie’s about, which is that they have to transport Li Moore 22 miles out from the embassy in order to get him across the border. The synopsis said the film was about this exact conflict, which sounded beautiful in its simplicity; like Die Hard (1988) or (that recent indie skyscraper action movie that came out which I now can’t find because The Rock’s Skyscraper (2018) was just released). Instead there’s just a long, drawn out first(ish) act, as though they couldn’t find a way to get there faster. I loved all of Wahlberg’s Berg characters; with Marcus Luttrell taking the top position. Like any great action star, Wahlberg has that All American feel. He’s the John McCain of action movies; a guy whose charm infects everyone all while possessing the perfect amount of intimidation and decency. His intensity seems genuine, as though we’re watching a particular Ideal Man that so many aspire toward; having the good job, great truck, pretty wife, and amazing kid. As mentioned, before we know much about Bishop we see him kill a child. He’s then introduced as a raging fast-talking sociopath; who yells most of his conversations and all of his orders. In one scene, as a couple fresh college grad hackers attempt to break encryption, Bishop comes roaring in about 9/11 and how they’re inability to crack the code could kill thousands; failing to provide any motivation other than the fear of what will happen to them should they fail. At times the character feels like Sorkin characters on cocaine; as he talks so fast, at times I had no idea what he was saying, and then he’d insert some historical or literary anecdote to show how smart the guy actually is. I saw a bully. The kind of person you sometimes work with while getting the job done, also makes the job as miserable as possible. When the film actually heads out onto the street for Mile 22, it had to have been halfway through. Corrupt police and biker gang members attack them in the middle of the Bali streets, inside a coffee shop, and ending in an uneventful final shootout in some barren apartment complex. Ronda Rousey dies along the way, and again in a needlessly brutal way; where shot up and dying, Bishop leaves her behind, pulling a less intense Miles Dyson, and taking out two of the biker gang members. In the end, they get Li across the border and onto a plane. At only a little over ninety minutes, the film felt as though it had played for two hours. Still, it kepting going, spiraling into a twist in which Li kills Alice when the two fly out together. Turns out Alice was a triple agent, working for the Russians and somehow involved with the opening scene. Even after reading the Wikipedia I still can’t really piece it together, leading me to wonder if this movie could even be over, or set up for a sequel. I discovered it’s the first in a trilogy. Peter Berg has created some of the best action movie sequences of this generation. Lone Survivor, Patriot’s Day, and Deep Horizon all created engaged and memorable characters about each other, and therefore made us care about them. Mile 22 failed to create a single great character or personal conflict. Even Ben Kingsley’s role was underwhelming (though his Converse shoes with the suit were a brilliant touch). All of his other films provide depth to the character. I feel like I know them, or they’re people I’d want to hang with. I’m not sure why this was abandoned, and maybe the other movies will get more into that element. Simply because it’s Berg and Wahlberg, I will watch the rest with the best hopes in mind. *I’m aware he’s a democrat, or at least has supported many of then, which makes his crossover all the more impressive. BELOW: You don't realize how awesome this scene is until you're in a movie theater with hundreds of others Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  A once in a generation talent Director: Marina Zenovich Cinematographer: Nick Higgins, Jenna Rosher, Thorsten Thielow, and Wolfgang Held Producer: Alex Gibney, Shirel Kozak, and Nancy Abraham by Jon Cvack To think that someone we grew up watching, who was so funny, charming, and kind hearted, ended up killing himself is difficult to accept. I had never known about his depression, or all that much about his addictions beyond the bits and pieces he’d mention in stand up (though I always found these oddly unfunny; especially compared to how hilarious nearly every appearance on a late night show was). A strange and conflicting image forms when I think too much about it; that a person who I would associate with happiness was actually struggling with severe depression, using his humor as a crutch. Beyond my one friend at work, I had never heard of this movie. I so often associate Hollywood biographies with those cheesy A&E television docs that rarely dug deeper than the scandals. This film is told entirely through interviews and - what I assume - archival footage; most of which probably hasn’t been seen before. What I appreciate about the story is how little time it spends on Williams' most well known aspects; that is, his most popular films. They’re looked at fleetingly, in order to launch the story into a new anecdotes of a man who we knew so little about. It opens up in The Actors Studio, as James Lipton welcomes Williams onto the show, asking what is going on inside William’s mind. Is he thinking faster than the rest of us? It’s the first question I asked myself after seeing him on the late shows. It wasn’t just the ability to speak and connect thoughts with humor and metaphor at rapid speed, but to embody entire characters and speak through those voices; where it seemed that Williams had an endless cast of rich personalities living within him. His story is a bit typical in that Williams originally studied political science ane started spending all his time in acting classes trying to meet girls. Then joined an improv group who put on a western adaptation of Othello at the prestigious Edinburgh Festival, which got Robin Williams on the radar. Later, still struggling to break in, Williams performed his alien character on Hollywood street corners, which finally got him in a role in "Happy Days" (1974-84); which then spun off into "Mork & Mindy" (1979-82), where Williams had the ability to fully unleash his talent; providing him both money, an introduction to the cocaine craze, and the endless amounts of women women. By this time Williams had gotten married to his first wife and raising their first child in Napa Valley. They soon hired a nanny who Williams would later run off with and have a second child with, before divorcing again and having a third child; just like his father did which left William’s with two half siblings. Now sober, he would go on to debut in Good Morning Vietnam (1987), Dead Poets Society (1989), Hook (1991), The Fisher King (1991), and Aladdin (2019), with the film never diving deep into the obvious; as though assuming that any fan watching the documentary knew enough about the films to avoid any extended tangents. Recently, I had watched Insomnia (2002); going through some strange love/hate roller coaster in which I loved it when it first came out, failed to enjoy it for the last eight or so years, and then fell in love with it again a couple weeks ago. It’s a tight and creepy film in which Pacino and his pending investigation into evidence tampering takes all of your attention where you forget that Williams is even in it. For a personality somehow so large, when Williams appears he somehow fades into the role; losing all his stardom and charisma and showing a deeply damaged soul. It’s arguably the last of his great films, in while he’d go on to play in another two dozen others, few of the roles would even come close to what he accomplished over the previous two decades. I recall when his television show "The Crazy Ones" (2013) was announced. By then I think the last film I recall seeing with him was Man of the Year (2006), which I mistakenly watched with my mom and sister while home from college and was so embarrassed that I actually turned it off and went back to the video store to exchange it. It didn’t feel unique, or contain the energy I loved. Robin Williams could always make even the most abhorrent stories accessible and light. "The Crazy Ones" looked like a television show from a man who had lost his magic; as so many comedians eventually seem to do. At one moment, his old co-start from Mork & Mindy, Pam Dawber, who made a guest appearance, described how off Robin had felt toward her while in production; as though something was wrong and he could no longer connect with his former self. Williams was soon diagnosed with early stage Parkinson’s and committed suicide shortly after. While the documentary doesn’t speculate, it’s clear enough that he feared losing the one talent that kept him afloat. As with many great artists, Williams' mind used craft to avoid thinking about the darkest of thoughts. Seeing his mind work, I’m left in as much awe as reading David Foster Wallace, listening to Nirvana, or looking at Van Gogh’s painting. It’s as though they were great because their minds demanded it in order to function; a strange correlation between creative genius and mental struggle. We’ll never know if Williams slowed down during the last decade or so because of the early onset of Parkinson’s, or whether it was a losing battle with even darker thoughts. I struggle to think of another performer like him, either living or dead; who could improvise some of the funniest material I’ve ever heard while snapping into some of his generation’s finest dramatic performances; who all the while felt genuine, accessible, and good hearted; a person who selflessly gave us laughter who might look deep into your eyes with immense appreciation as you thank him. To think someone so positive lost a battle with his mind is a sobering thought that chills me to this day; as though reflecting a universal truth of life. That the pursuit is hard and tragic and only fun some of the time. Fortunately, some of that time we can forever spend with him and what he created. BELOW: How he is on every late night show Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Director: Spike Lee Writer: Charlie Wachtel, David Rabinowitz, Kevin Willmott, and Spike Lee; based on Black Klansman by Ron Stallworth Cinematographer: Producer: Jason Blum, Spike Lee, Raymond Mansfield, Sean McKittrick, Jordan Peele, and Shaun Redick by Jon Cvack It’s only after a career spanning over thirty years that Spike Lee seems to be getting the attention he deserves. As I was adding him to my director’s list I discovered nearly a dozen films, all well reviewed, that I hadn’t seen or even heard about. Clockers (1995), Malcolm X (1992), He Got Game (1999), and Summer of Sam (1999) are all films as good and epic as anything produced by his peers. To think that the one of the few prolific African American filmmakers with equal talent as Tarantino, PTA, Wes Anderson, Spielberg, or the Coens is rarely mentioned when people mentioned their favorite filmmakers goes to show the implicit bias. If there’s one thing that Trump is doing which I appreciate is that he’s pulling off the costume that racism hides behind. One protest sign summed it well in that while not all Trump voters are racist, many seem okay with the racist things Trump says. It’s giving rise to more people casually saying things that would be out of line just a few years ago. Just like Trump gets away with his offensive remarks by calling it a joke, the people do the same. They don’t actually mean that Stormy Daniels is a “dirty whore”; it’s just a joke. They didn’t actually mean to harm or scare the Latinos and Asian-Americans walking down the street by telling them to go back to their country; they were just drunk and playing. Worse, is where the straight up racism or sexism comes out, especially here in Los Angeles, and you realize how much worse it should be elsewhere. I admired Obama and aspired to be as smart and engaged as he was. He was the greatest role model a student could ask for in college. Now flip that, in which the other side’s leader gets to laugh off his misogyny and racism as all just misunderstood and his supporters all follow right in line; no matter how many of the victims speak out. It’s bizarre and will have consequences for decades to come. Trump isn’t engaged enough to want to take over the world, but as I often say, imagine an evil genius who had the charm, realizing how far he could take the country in a particular direction and how half the country is willing to either go along with it. With climate change around the corner, it’s a terrifying thought. We already have serious problems, and growing up, I just never thought it’d be this country I’d have to worry about. Next to Death of Stalin, this is the next post-Trump film to be made; exploring the history of race and racism in this country. It opens in the Civil War with a long, expansive shot of hundreds of wounded soldiers lying in the dirt while a woman cries, searching for her man, ending on the Confederate Flag which is still hanging. It’s one of the most powerful opening shots I’ve seen in awhile; especially when knowing what to expect from the story. Up until recently, and still do this day, we want to revere a nation that once held people in bondage to the point where half the country rebelled against the United States of America to defend the idea. For those of the “Pride Not Hate” defense, I’ve yet to hear a decent argument as to why this isn't analogous to putting up statues of Hitler and his generals over in Germany and celebrating Nazi pride. The film opens up with rookie police officer and real life person Ron Stallworth (John David Washington) serving as Colorado Springs first black person on the force. Chief Bridges (Robert John Burke) warns him that his experience will be similar to that of Jackie Robinson. He’ll likely deal with a barrage of racist epithets from the other officers. Ron agrees and from such a strong intro, a lot of the momentum wore off at this point, as Lee remained in many scenes far longer than needed as we followed Ron from the filing room to private detective, which could have been punched up by one of Spike Lee’s signature montages. I understand that it was to demonstrate the Jackie Robinson-ness of the situation, but given where the story goes, I think it could have gotten there faster while proving the same points. Eventually Ronald becomes an undercover detective, making his way to a black power rally, where he meets local college president of the black student union Patricia Dumas (Laura Harrier) who’s hosting true to life civil right activist Kwame Ture (Corey Hawkins; and providing the film’s finest performance; up there with Viola Davis brevity in Doubt (2008) which won her an Oscar) in which he speaks of the plight of black people and the systemic racism they face; wrapping up the speech by declaring that it’s better to shoot a racist cop than the enemy in Vietnam; as he doesn’t know anything about the people in Vietnam, but he does know the oppressor he faces in this country. The rhetoric is alarming, and, at times, convincing. What is worse than a person whose job is to uphold the law who will then refuse to apply that law equally to all Americans? Ronald presents his findings to the Chief alongside his partner Detective Fred Zinnerman (Adam Driver), who agrees that while the rhetoric was intense, it was nothing more than some heated language. Ronald instead directs his attention to the rise of some local KKK organizations that have been gathering around town. He gets in touch with one of the local leaders, Felix Kendrickson (Jasper Pääkkönen), using his best white man’s voice and convincing the klansmen to invite him to the rally. Knowing he can’t show up, he convinces Fred to act in his place. The joke is one of the most effective demonstrations of how racism can seep into even the most seemingly innocuous situations. Whites believe that black people talk a certain way, which they do, not all that differently than how black people can impersonate the way a white person talks; the issue is when you believe one tone is superior to the others; demonstrated in a hilarious scene where a conversation with David Duke leads to the man saying how much he resents when black people say you’re-a rather than just you’re; hilarious in that it’s not wrong, it’s just insane that someone would use something so inane as a contributing element to their violent bigotry. Fred soon meets up with Felix, who in a thrilling scene, demands Fred get into his car in order to be driven to the a bar in middle of nowhere where he meets the organization’s leader Walter Breachway (Ryan Eggold) and the third leg of their trio, Ivanhoe (Paul Walter Hauser). Adam Driver provides a few great laughs, but given how few other actors I recognized (namely Pääkkönen and Eggold) I was wondering if doing the same for the character could have made it more effective. Adam Driver has such a distinct face and presence. Add the fact that he was in Star Wars and, at times, it was difficult for me to buy his ability to blend in at all times.* Nevertheless, the character is fascinating as he integrates further and further into the organization, getting closer to David Duke while gaining the trust of Breachway who soon resigns from his leadership position; nominating Fred for the top position. All the while, Felix grows more suspicious of Fred, peaking in one of the film’s other great scenes in which Felix hooks up Fred up to a lie detector test in order to find out the truth about his potential racism. Pääkkönen’s creates one of the great villains of the 2010s; able to shift on a dime between a terrifying psychopath and a hilarious paranoid. Soon the group leads Fred to meet David Duke (Topher Grace) who’s arriving in town to both meet the new Klan leader and to baptize the new chapter. Simultaneously, Felix’s wife is dropping off C4 explosives procured by some of the group’s active armed service members, which she plans on using to kill the black student union president. And this is all going on while Ronald is talking to David Duke to further investigate his arrival while Fred infiltrates further into the organization. It all ends in a thrilling scene, as after Ronald arrives and chases down the wife, local police tackle him to the ground and beat him; forcing him to watch as the bomb blows. Some of the klan members die and the wife is arrested, but nevertheless, the police Chief receives orders to shut down the investigation and destroy all of the evidence. It’s so shocking and irrational, that although fact, it made the ending feel cheap; as though it was stranger - and far worse - than fiction. As of finishing these thoughts up, it’s been a week since I watched the film and thought about the ending; in which Lee cuts to footage from Charlottesville and the feud between White Nationalists and Neo Nazis versus those who were protesting against it. Not knowing of the images, only a few days prior I had started Frontline’s “Documenting Hate” (2018) series about Charlottesville; showing images I had yet to see; of how nasty and heated it was before the car accident and how little the police sought to intervene. Lee used the terrible images we had all seen. Of the people crying and the car ramming through the people and the fighting in the streets; ending on a photo of the one victim who died, before ending on an upside downflag that turned to black and white. There was such vitriolic anger behind the images. I struggled between whether I thought they were too fueled by emotion rather than a specific statement Writing this on Monday, August 26, 2018 Trump raised the flag back to full mast; disregarding the vast majority of the country in honoring the country’s most famous and acclaimed veteran, John McCain, Suddenly, after over a year of criticizing NFL players for disrespecting our military and veterans by taking a knee, they were quiet when Trump criticized on one of modern America’s greatest heroes. Either their hypocrites, or it’s not at all about the military, and is very much about race. By the very nature of refusing to understand what the players are taking a knee for, they are behaving in a racist manner. Such reasoning by extension requires that they do not understand; which by extension means they’re ignorant. What we now know is that it definitely wasn’t about the military. Like most, I was shocked when Trump mentioned after Charlottesville that there were “very fine people on both sides”. Watching the images, yes - there have been far more tragic and gruesome deaths in our nation’s past, but to think that this exists today, after the country just had its first black president, makes you comprehend how far there is to go. And for the black community and other minorities, I can’t imagine what it must feel like to have my fellow citizens hate for no reason beyond color or creed; enough to kill in cold blood. That is terrifying. The concluding images are not so much of a bow as a warning. Serious things are happening and unless people demand justice, nothing is going to change. What was once a fringe group, now feels empowered to come out of the shadows, and once it gets corrected, it’s our duty to ensure that we never forget who they are or what they bring out. It’s where I’m most cynical, as coupled with mass shootings and further divisions, I wonder how it could ever end. *Should note that this was written when I really only knew Adam Driver from Star Wars. I imagine revisiting would change this perspective. BELOW: One of the best scenes of the flick Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  A tragically underutilized career from Olivia de Havilland Director: William Wyler Writer: Ruth and Augustus Goetz; based upon Washington Square by Henry James Cinematographer: Leo Tover Producer: William Wyler by Jon Cvack I'm not a fan of most drama films that take place in the 1800s. They often exist in the privileged upper class worlds where righteous white people commit tiny acts of deceit; failing to acknowledge what is often the greatest crime of character which is complete indifference to the lower classes. Rarely do we hear these characters discuss the bondage all around them. If people of color are in the film, they’re often in positions of service as though normal. The story’s focus and structure embody the moment of history it exists in. I’m not sure why but when I see the name Henry James, I lump him together with Jane Austen, whose four books I read embody these ideas (I struggled to follow; but that’s more because of my disinterest in the plot than because I think she’s a bad writer, which I don’t), and so I went in with expectations to be bored out of my mind. Instead, I discovered a thrilling, Hitchcockian-lite story in which it seems Henry James completely upended the genre's tropes; making me recall that he was the one who wrote “The Turning of the Screw” (1898), which is often the top horror novels ever written. Fortunately, I didn’t know this before going in. The story follows the gawky 30-something Catherine Sloper (Olivia de Havilland) whose father, the wealthy Dr. Austin Sloper (Ralph Richardson), has grown embarrassed and disappointed over his daughter's awkward inability to find a suitor; often disparaging her which Cather fails to notice, blinded by her loving affection toward him. When the family attends a party, Catherine meets the charming and attractive Morris Townsend (Montgomery Clift), whose mysterious past adds to his allure. For the first time, Catherine finds herself helplessly in love and the pair decide to get married, much to the chagrin of her father who refuses to believe that such an attractive young man could be attracted to his awkward daughter for any purpose beyond her money. Catherine refuses to believe, planning to elope with Morris until her father then refuses to pay out the dowry unless Catherine joins her on vacation in Paris for a month; with the hope that she would soon forget Morris. When they return, Catherine finds Morris eagerly awaiting her return; ready to run and get married the moment she walks through the door. Dr. Austin's suspicions fail to subside, and he declares he’ll disown her. Catherine informs Morris of her father's decision and how they’d lose everything but should still get married. Morris agrees and says he'll return later that night; never returning and corroborating Dr. Austin's fears and then breaking Catherine's heart. Time passes, and Dr. Austin grows sick. He self-diagnoses himself in a heart breaking scene, and later explains to Catherine that he has only a brief time to live. She implores him to write her out of the will in order to be able to pursue Morris. Her father refuses, leaving Catherine his entire estate and dying shortly after. It’s only after you think about this scene that you realize how powerful it is. The father in this film begins as a foolish conservative figure, disregarding his daughter’s affection. In the end, my view completely shifted, regarding him as noble and wise. To then think he died believing his daughter would marry the wrong man, and that the man might steal all Dr. Austin had built is a harrowing thought. Years go by and Catherine has grown increasingly recluse, working on her needlework alone, with only the occasional visitor. Morris then returns; now sporting a mustache and wanting to resume their plans for marriage, especially now that her father is out of the picture. Catherine again agrees, explaining that he should come back that night. Once again Morris returns, begging to be let in while Catherine heads upstairs; likely to kill herself and yet we never see the final piece. It’s one of the best endings I remember from the era; leaving just enough ambiguity to keep you thinking about the film for days. Given that I was expecting some complicated romance, it wasn't until about two thirds of the way in that I suspected that Morris might actually have nefarious intentions; made all the more complex by Montgomery Cliff boyish looks and uncorrupted persona. It reminded me of my experience watching The River Wild (1994) for the first time as a kid; not knowing anything about the story, having no clue of Kevin Bacon's villainy; seeing him as an otherwise charming man for the first time. Makes me wonder if it was inspired by this film. Yet it's Olivia de Havilland's performance that stands out above all; especially given the era when I can’t recall many peculiar leading women. So often their paragons of beauty and virtue. The willingness to portray herself with all of the wrinkly crow's feet around her eyes (and this was mentioned on the DVD feature) and inject a courageous amount of awkwardness into each and every scene, all while retaining a modicum of charm and beauty. It created enough complexity to make me wonder what exactly Morris saw in her without making his intentions out of the realm of possibility. For a film about a period I often get bored with, it's one of the best I've ever seen. BELOW: Olivia de Havilland on her co-stars Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  The movie was in color but I can't find any images Director: Michael Curtiz Writer: Arthur T. Horman, Roland Gillett, Richard Macaulay, and Norman Reilly Raine Cinematography: Wilfred M. Cline, Sol Polito, Winton C. Hoch, and Charles A. Marshall (not sure what this was about) Producer: Hal B. Wallis and William Cagney by Jon Cvack It’s every time I think I’m going to close the available Michael Curtiz films, Netflix adds another couple more to the bucket. The movie sounded interesting enough, following James Cagney as a bomber pilot during World War II. I hadn’t seen a film with Cagney since John Ford’s Mister Rogers (1955; no relation to the show); which was awesome and one of my first experiences with the non-criminal Cagney (other being Curtiz’s other Cagney collaboration Yankee Doodle Dandy (1942) and Billy Wilder’s One, Two, Three (1961). Captain of the Clouds offers a hybrid model; following Canadian shipping pilot and scoundrel Brian MacLean (James Cagney) as he delivers loose freight across the bush country; determined to live his life chasing money, women, and alcohol. At one of his regular rest stops, MacLean discovers the beautiful Emily Forster (Brenda Marshall) who’s engaged to fellow pilot Johnny Dutton (Dennis Morgan). Without a care in the world - and straight out of Cagney’s gangster persona - Brian swarms in on Emily; flirting relentlessly and, at times, forcefully. All before fully seducing her when she nurses him back to health after accidentally banging his head against the propeller and Dutton saves him. In gratitude, MacClean joins up with Dutton and his aspiring shipping business, somehow failing to piece together MacClean and Emily's relationship. It's interesting to note that Wikipedia explains this affair in a peculiar way; describing Emily as a “gold digger” and Brian as acting in the good interest of Dutton who would otherwise fall for her manipulations. With very little ambiguity, I saw MacClean as a predator who was willing to forfeit his professional, and potentially personal relationships in order to pursue the women, or anything he desired, for that matter. And if he could make a buck by offering some modicum of reconciliation to someone he hates (that is, Dutton), so be it. Ultimately, without even telling Dutton, MacLean and Emily elope all in an effort to save Dutton the pain of her infidelities. The problem is that Emily never plays like a despicable gold digger, but rather like a love interest swayed by MacLean's charm, which given how weird and sleepy MacClean plays the character, I'm not sure how well even this played out. Without the glamor and danger of gangsterdom, Cagney can’t really pull off the lady’s man. Nevertheless, even learning of the marriage, Dutton and MacClean along with a few other bush pilots enter into some strange and precarious shipping business, culminating in Dutton forced into some into some emergency landing disaster that occurred during a heavy thunderstorm; utilizing a mixture of real aeronautics and a god awful miniature plane model that cut together about as well as oil and water. Yet again, for a moment, Dutton and MacClean worked together; MacClean finally showed actual compassion to his friend, which then faded when they got paid for the gig and again I’m left wondering if he actually cares about anyone but himself. Somehow this all leads to the outbreak of WWII, in which the men are inspired by Churchill's “We Shall Fight on the Beaches” speech and they join the Royal Canadian Airforce; where MacClean learns that he has to learn to fly all over again, take orders, and abandon his rebellious ways; all with the added caveat that his instructor is Dutton, which bites at his pride, getting him kicked out in the process; possibly because he was also too old, which I doubt, though I just don’t remember. During the graduation for the other pilots, MacClean and one of his bush pilot buddies complete a series of drunken flybys until his buddy stalls out and crashes into a fiery death - again with shitty models. Somehow MacClean remains out of jail. Later, when two Canadian transport planes are shot down by German forces, the RCA needs a fleet of extra bomber pilots to transport weapons across seas to Britain. For some reason, although both kicked out for insubordination and nearly killing an entire platoon of fresh Air Force grads whilst drunk flying, he’s welcomed back. Sure enough, the Luftwaffe attack and the bomber planes lie helpless. MacClean again rejects Dutton’s orders, flying his flame into the enemy (Independence Day (1996) style) sacrificing his life for the other men. The film was produced by James Cagney’s brother, who doesn’t even have a Wikipedia page nor all that many credits on IMDb. While his following film he would be Associate Producer on Yankee Doodle Dandy, he’d produce less than twenty films up through 1953, when he wouldn’t produce anything again throughout the next thirty five years up to his death in 1988. I haven’t heard of any of his credits before this film, which appear to be a lot of B and C-grade films; which is kind of what this feels like. Having just read John Steinbeck’s "Bombers Away" (1942), as propagandistic as it feels it does provide you an inside look into the types of people required for each crew position. Coincidentally the book was published the same year (though that’s not why I watched it). This film feels empty of any interest in the field; as though a bridge between Cagney’s gangster performance and the Good Guys he’d later play. It’s clear they hoped to create that hair trigger buddy of yours who would do anything for his friend, but instead MacClean is a self-centered, greedy asshole; who seems as much interested in his own gain from helping people, as he is in the act itself. When he helped Dutton land in the thunderstorm, you could argue it was for the money. But when he sacrificed his life, I couldn’t help feeling it was to make himself into a martyr. I can’t think of a studio film which had such an awful lead character without the irony of following the awful character. MacClean felt designed to be respected. Placed within a plot that bounced from one section to the next, with details failing to blend together and action scenes too ambitious to be achieved, it felt like a film more concerned with betrayal and action than with telling a good story; which it could have been. BELOW: Nothing but a trailer on YouTube so here ya go 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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