The Banal, the Blah, the Banausic:
1. See No Evil, Hear No Evil (1989) Dir. Arthur Hiller - US
Guilty Pleasure Cinema:
1. I See A Dark Stranger (1946) Dir. Frank Launder - UK
2. Tight Spot (1955) Dir. Phil Karlson – US
3. Willard (1971) Dir. Daniel Mann – US
Astounding Cinema:
4. Portrait of Jennie (1948) Dir. William Dieterle - US
3. Lola and Billy the Kid (1999) Dir. Kutlug Ataman - Germany
2. Myra Breckinridge (1970) Dir. Michael Sarne – US
1. Walkabout (1971) Dir. Nicolas Roeg – UK
Rewatched Goodies:
4. Lean on Me (1989) Dir. John G. Alvidsen – US 7/10
3. Strange Impersonation (1946) Dir. Anthony Mann – US 9/10
2. A Woman’s Face (1941) Dir. George Cukor – US 9/10
1. Sling Blade (1996) Dir. Billy Bob Thornton – US 10/10
1. See No Evil, Hear No Evil (1989) Dir. Arthur Hiller - US
Guilty Pleasure Cinema:
1. I See A Dark Stranger (1946) Dir. Frank Launder - UK
2. Tight Spot (1955) Dir. Phil Karlson – US
3. Willard (1971) Dir. Daniel Mann – US
Astounding Cinema:
4. Portrait of Jennie (1948) Dir. William Dieterle - US
3. Lola and Billy the Kid (1999) Dir. Kutlug Ataman - Germany
2. Myra Breckinridge (1970) Dir. Michael Sarne – US
1. Walkabout (1971) Dir. Nicolas Roeg – UK
Rewatched Goodies:
4. Lean on Me (1989) Dir. John G. Alvidsen – US 7/10
3. Strange Impersonation (1946) Dir. Anthony Mann – US 9/10
2. A Woman’s Face (1941) Dir. George Cukor – US 9/10
1. Sling Blade (1996) Dir. Billy Bob Thornton – US 10/10
See No Evil, Hear No Evil (1989): One of the least successful pairings of comedy geniuses Richard Pryor and Gene Wilder falls completely flat in this Arthur Hiller directed picture, though general consensus deems the fault lies mainly in Wilder’s rewritten script. Wilder plays a deaf man and Pryor plays a blind man and they are both witnesses to a murder. Neither one of them can completely describe what happened, and in order to clear their own names and protect themselves from the real killers, they strike out on their own to finger the killers. Of course, zany madcap attempts to ensue, but with the exception of one or two briefly funny moments, a majority of the film feels forced and sluggish. Though it’s easy to see that Pryor and Wilder have great chemistry together, See No Evil, Hear No Evil is just depressing if you think of what it could have been. Oh, and the baddies are a very 80’s looking Joan Severance and Kevin Spacey.
I See A Dark Stranger (1946): A British film noir of sorts, this melodramatically titled film features Deborah Kerr as a young Irish lass who just hates the damned British. Upon turning 18, she sets out to join the IRA in order to rebel against the Brits and ends up in the hands of a German spy that recruits her to be, well, a Nazi. Unaware of the true intent of what she’s doing, Bridie Quilty (yes, what an annoying name to go with that Irish lilt) realizes at the last minute that what she’s doing is wrong, and thus turns herself in to the British officer that’s fallen in lover with her. A light, frothy little bit of espionage, Kerr is a capable performer as always, though the film ends up coming off as a bit trite and trifling. Recommended for Deborah Kerr fans (because she was an awesome screen legend). Oh, and I love that damned title----which is very similar to Woody Allen’s upcoming 2010 release, You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger.
Tight Spot (1955): Director Phil Karlson, responsible for the excellent film noir Kansas City Confidential (1952) also was responsible for this stagey little feature starring Ginger Rogers as a female prisoner being held in a hotel and pressured to testify against a dangerous mobster. The trouble is, the last witness was hunted down and murdered….Ooopsy. Edward G. Robinson stars as the prosecuting attorney begging Rogers to testify in exchange for a reduced sentence, while Brian Keith (in a terribly annoying role) is the gruff, masculine cop that wants to break Rogers into submission. Except he’s got some secrets of his own, and yawn, he falls in love with Rogers and her little platinum dove cut butch hair. Rogers, so damn excellent earlier in her career with the likes of say Bachelor Mother (1939) or her Oscar winning turn in Kitty Foyle (1940) is way over the top here---nearly every scene shows Ms. Rogers trying hard to be a quirky, mouthy, uneducated female prisoner. A lifelong Republican, it’s no wonder Rogers couldn’t relate to her role at all. On the other hand, this makes for fine campy viewing for those of us that still happen to enjoy Ginger despite her political views.
Willard (1971): The original cult horror classic! At last, I finally found a reasonably priced VHS copy (as it’s still not on DVD in this country, even though a pretty damn good remake starring Crispin Glover was released in 2003). Daniel Mann, the director of such awesome cinema as Come Back Little Sheba (1952), The Rose Tattoo (1955) and BUtterfield 8 (1960) was responsible for this nifty little camp classic. Starring Bruce Davison (a star of many a gay iconic film like Longtime Companion, 1990, It’s My Party, 1996, and the anti-mutant senator in gay allegory X-Men) stars as the young, pathetic, friendless Willard, who lives with his mother (an excellent Elsa Lanchester in small role) and is terrorized by his boss (Ernest Borgnine---yes, look for those tight polyester pants on this sweaty big man) that stole his father’s company, and voila! You have a creepy boy that thinks he can make rats do his bidding. Though Willard kind of screws himself over by making his white rat, Socrates, the obvious favorite, while black rat Ben suffers criticism and abuse, leading to some bitterness between the rodents. And a young Sondra Locke (who used to be attached to Clint Eastwood and then also became a director herself) stars as the young office temp that takes pity on the abused Willard. The worst thing about Willard is that it’s really hard to feel bad for him---he doesn’t do a damn thing to stand up for himself, and he’s really weird in a creepy, serial killer sort of way. And then I couldn’t understand why he insisted on being so mean to Ben. Hmmm. Anyway, now I’m keen on seeing the 1972 sequel, Ben, directed by Phil Karlson of Tight Spot (1955).
Portrait of Jennie (1948): Said to be a huge influence on surrealist filmmaker Luis Bunuel, William Dieterele’s Portrait of Jennie stars Joseph Cotton as a young-ish painter that becomes obsessed with a creepy little girl name Jennie (played by the boisterously over the top Jennifer Jones) he meets in Central Park one day. When they first meet, Jennie is supposed to be about 13, and she keeps getting rapidly older each time they do meet, of which the intervals seems to be every couple of months. Cotton is smitten, though who can figure out why when Jennifer Jones trounces around singing creepy songs and insisting her trapeze artist parents are alive and working in a building that infamously burned down decades ago. Which leads me to think Cotton’s obsessive artist isn’t very sympathetic and just dense. Of course, he then can think of painting nothing else but Jennie. Well, you can see the conclusion from frame one, but the film sets about it like it’s an epic love story. The film’s strength comes from the beautifully shot finale, a huge sea storm that’s been tinted an ominous and deadly green for the film screen. While the film stands as an interesting depiction of obsession, I quite enjoyed the dreadful atmosphere Dieterele evokes, an almost predestination we have, both as humans and artists, to sabotage our talents at the same time we may be utilizing them the most. Lillian Gish also appears as a Mother Superior, and the always wonderful Ethel Barrymore scores the most touching moments of the film as an art curator who sees some talent in Cotton as she befriends him and helps save his life.
Lola and Billy the Kid (1999): Turkish director Kutlug Ataman directs this German language film which is basically the story of several different gay Turkish immigrants living in Germany (a cross section of attitudes and cultural racism recently seen depicted also in Fatih Akin’s The Edge of Heaven, 2008). The story is basically about a drag queen named Lola and her uber masculine boyfriend that’s nicknamed himself Billy the Kid after the cowboy hero from the west. Lola, violently estranged from his immigrant family (due to some secrets we find later on in the narrative) attempts to forge a relationship with his younger brother, Murat, whom he only recently discovered he had. Murat is also coming to the realization that he is also gay. Lola’s boyfriend, yearning to be seen as normal by the world, is insisting that Lola undergo a sex change operation so that they can legally marry. One has the sense that Lola, like the protagonist in Fassbinder’s devastating In a Year With 13 Moons (1978), would eventually go ahead with operation if push came to shove. But then there’s these vicious homophobic German men that take pleasure out of beating and stalking the Turkish homosexual prostitutes as they constantly lurk at the edges of the frame. An additional subplot involves a young Turkish prostitute that begins a relationship with a much older German john that lives with his filthy rich mother, which results in some very moving and touching moments in this rather bleak but excellent film about the desperation of these individuals living doubly on the outskirts of society. I’m keen on seeing director Ataman’s follow-up film, a Turkish pic called Two Little Girls (2005) as he is definitely a director to watch out for.
Myra Breckinridge (1970): Yes, that infamous, scandalous motion picture event that ruined a budding director (Michael Sarne) and was considered one of the worst motion pictures ever made. I quite disagree with this consensus and found Raquel Welch’s (whose beauty is truly breathtaking and showstopping here), presence and performance to be completely revolutionary and decades ahead of its time, much like the source novel by Gore Vidal (who hated the movie). Certainly not failed art (though I think a more risqué and accomplished director would have benefited the project---can you imagine what Schlesinger or Fassbinder or Fellini might have done with this material?) it is confusing, at times, to decipher just what’s going on between Myra and her male alter ego Myron (interestingly played by film critic Rex Reed), but that made the film feel like an arthouse Fellini picture. Mae West, in her late 70’s, was perfect for the role of Leticia Van Allen, a casting agent that specializes in sleeping with male actors and multiple double entendres (as was Mae’s own specialty). Her first picture in 26 years, she notoriously did not get along with Raquel Welch---but what aging diva would have? And then there’s a nubile Farrah Fawcett sharing bedroom scenes with Welch----a surreal experience to say the least. The plot is basically that Myron becomes Myra (in a surgery administered by a drugged up surgeon played by John Carradine) and comes to Hollywood to claim half the estate of an acting academy owned by her uncle (John Huston in a disgusting, memorable performance). Myra’s uncle Buck obviously doesn’t want to handle over the reins of his cash cow, and Myra is posing as the widow of his nephew Myron. While Myra attempts to assume control of the academy, she pursues another personal victory, attempting to sleep with a man and a woman so that she can have gained complete superiority as a being. An infamous (and hilarious) male rape scene ensues, along with two musical numbers performed by Mae West that you’ll either love or hate, and a conclusion that’ll leave you scratching your head. But you’ll realize you saw one of the most revolutionary mainstream motion pictures ever to come out of an American studio. And now I can’t wait to devour the novel.
Walkabout (1971): And the number one title this week is Nicolas Roeg’s hailed classic in the Outback, Walkabout, which is about two British children (a young girl played by English film star Jenny Agutter, and the boy the son of Roeg) abandoned in the Australian Outback after their father has, ummm, what appears to be a severe mental breakdown. Struggling to survive, the children stumble upon a young aborigine in the midst of his “walkabout,” a transitional period where young men wander off into the desert until they learn a thing or two about being a man (riffing on how Sigourney Weaver’s character in The Ice Storm, 1997, might have described such an ordeal). Roger Ebert states it succinctly, that Walkabout “doesn’t quite exist in the universe of words.” Yes, the story is basically about a boy and a girl learning to communicate and survive on their own with a young boy that also doesn’t speak their language. But there’s so much more going on than that. Obviously Roeg juxtaposes many instances of civilization vs. the natural world. Ultimately, we don’t focus or feel like the children are suffering (though a bizarre suicide might throw you if you’re not watching closely) but rather that they are on a mystical pilgrimage, and perhaps on a transition of their own. Evoking a magical ambiance and atmosphere, Roeg’s Walkabout is about beautiful landscapes and survival, and more so, about what exists beyond the frame of the film and existence.
Lean on Me (1989): It’s been a while since I sat down to watch a film being aired on television, but last week BET was showing this and I got the hubby interested enough to get into watching it. The film itself feels a little formulaic---how many cinematic heroic savior teachers/educational leaders have we seen before and since? Based on the true (though embellished) story of principal Joe Clark’s experience and renovations of Eastside high school, Morgan Freeman electrifies the screen with a memorable and moving performance. Though Freeman’s finally won his Oscar glory (albeit a supporting win for Million Dollar Baby, 2004) he was definitely shut out from a Golden Globe and Oscar nod in 1990 for his stellar performance here. Director John G. Alvidsen, responsible for the original The Karate Kid (1984), would go on to work with Freeman again in 1992 with The Power of One.
Strange Impersonation (1946): Before making his mark in film by revolutionizing the Western genre, director Anthony Mann made this B-noir sci-fi cheapie about a female scientist (Brenda Marshall) scalded by acid when her assistant sabotages an experiment so she can steal her fiancé. Of course, things don’t go as planned for the assistant when Marshall fakes her own death, undergoes a miraculous plastic surgery, and comes back for revenge! Elements of horror and the macabre keep this potboiler crackling as it races to its formulaic conclusion….but the film is both interesting as an early work of Mann, and also a noir that explores issues of smart ladies in the work force, while also depicting fears of plastic surgery in relation to identity.
A Woman’s Face (1941): Joan Crawford turns in one of her best (meaning less campy) performances in this remake of a Swedish Ingrid Bergman film from 1938. George Cukor, known as the ‘woman’s director’ (yes, he was very gay) was also Crawford’s favorite director to work for, completing this picture after having just worked for Cukor on The Women (1939) and the underrated and often ignored Susan and God (1940). Crawford stars as a scar-faced woman operating a blackmail ring until she stumbles into a plastic surgeon (Melvyn Douglas), the husband of one of her targets. Restoring her face, Douglas jokes that he created a Frankenstein monster, a bitter, broken woman with a beautiful face. Of course, he’s right, as Crawford’s next assignment sends her to Sweden as a nanny in a plot to kill the nephew of her lover so that he can be sole heir to a fortune. Plans are thwarted and the film is melodramatically recounted in flashback as Crawford is on trial for attempted homicide. Pure ‘40s melodrama, Crawford is beautiful and engaging and unfortunately didn’t garner any awards recognition here.
Sling Blade (1996): The stunningly moving directorial debut of Billy Bob Thornton, which also stars Thornton as a reformed handicapped convict that had murdered his mother and his mother’s lover as a teenager and is released decades later, is still the best movie Thornton’s ever done. In fact, I would have to put Sling Blade in a list of the top 50 Best Films ever made, if I ever were to write that list. I hadn’t watched it for well over a decade now, and the hubby’s been on a bit of a Billy Bob kick and I was very thankful to experience the film again as an adult. Thornton gets excellent performances from John Ritter, Dwight Yoakam, Lucas Black, Robert Duvall and Natalie Canerday as Lucas Black’s mother (while also having the distinction of featuring character actor J.T. Walsh shortly before he died). Thornton stars as Carl, recently released from an institution and who returns to his birth place without anyone to turn to or having any sort of plan for the future (preferring to live the rest of his life in the institution). Befriending a troubled young boy and his mother, Carl ends up face to face with Dwight Yoakam, the mother’s red neck, alcoholic, abusive boyfriend. The results are, shall we say, satisfactory for all parties involved. I don’t want to go into too much detail as it’s best just to sit and watch it if you’ve never had the pleasure, but I’m quite sure that I’ve neglected to watch Geoffrey Rush’s Oscar winning performance in Shine (1996) because something tells me I’ll never find it as excellent as Billy Bob Thornton in Sling Blade.
I See A Dark Stranger (1946): A British film noir of sorts, this melodramatically titled film features Deborah Kerr as a young Irish lass who just hates the damned British. Upon turning 18, she sets out to join the IRA in order to rebel against the Brits and ends up in the hands of a German spy that recruits her to be, well, a Nazi. Unaware of the true intent of what she’s doing, Bridie Quilty (yes, what an annoying name to go with that Irish lilt) realizes at the last minute that what she’s doing is wrong, and thus turns herself in to the British officer that’s fallen in lover with her. A light, frothy little bit of espionage, Kerr is a capable performer as always, though the film ends up coming off as a bit trite and trifling. Recommended for Deborah Kerr fans (because she was an awesome screen legend). Oh, and I love that damned title----which is very similar to Woody Allen’s upcoming 2010 release, You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger.
Tight Spot (1955): Director Phil Karlson, responsible for the excellent film noir Kansas City Confidential (1952) also was responsible for this stagey little feature starring Ginger Rogers as a female prisoner being held in a hotel and pressured to testify against a dangerous mobster. The trouble is, the last witness was hunted down and murdered….Ooopsy. Edward G. Robinson stars as the prosecuting attorney begging Rogers to testify in exchange for a reduced sentence, while Brian Keith (in a terribly annoying role) is the gruff, masculine cop that wants to break Rogers into submission. Except he’s got some secrets of his own, and yawn, he falls in love with Rogers and her little platinum dove cut butch hair. Rogers, so damn excellent earlier in her career with the likes of say Bachelor Mother (1939) or her Oscar winning turn in Kitty Foyle (1940) is way over the top here---nearly every scene shows Ms. Rogers trying hard to be a quirky, mouthy, uneducated female prisoner. A lifelong Republican, it’s no wonder Rogers couldn’t relate to her role at all. On the other hand, this makes for fine campy viewing for those of us that still happen to enjoy Ginger despite her political views.
Willard (1971): The original cult horror classic! At last, I finally found a reasonably priced VHS copy (as it’s still not on DVD in this country, even though a pretty damn good remake starring Crispin Glover was released in 2003). Daniel Mann, the director of such awesome cinema as Come Back Little Sheba (1952), The Rose Tattoo (1955) and BUtterfield 8 (1960) was responsible for this nifty little camp classic. Starring Bruce Davison (a star of many a gay iconic film like Longtime Companion, 1990, It’s My Party, 1996, and the anti-mutant senator in gay allegory X-Men) stars as the young, pathetic, friendless Willard, who lives with his mother (an excellent Elsa Lanchester in small role) and is terrorized by his boss (Ernest Borgnine---yes, look for those tight polyester pants on this sweaty big man) that stole his father’s company, and voila! You have a creepy boy that thinks he can make rats do his bidding. Though Willard kind of screws himself over by making his white rat, Socrates, the obvious favorite, while black rat Ben suffers criticism and abuse, leading to some bitterness between the rodents. And a young Sondra Locke (who used to be attached to Clint Eastwood and then also became a director herself) stars as the young office temp that takes pity on the abused Willard. The worst thing about Willard is that it’s really hard to feel bad for him---he doesn’t do a damn thing to stand up for himself, and he’s really weird in a creepy, serial killer sort of way. And then I couldn’t understand why he insisted on being so mean to Ben. Hmmm. Anyway, now I’m keen on seeing the 1972 sequel, Ben, directed by Phil Karlson of Tight Spot (1955).
Portrait of Jennie (1948): Said to be a huge influence on surrealist filmmaker Luis Bunuel, William Dieterele’s Portrait of Jennie stars Joseph Cotton as a young-ish painter that becomes obsessed with a creepy little girl name Jennie (played by the boisterously over the top Jennifer Jones) he meets in Central Park one day. When they first meet, Jennie is supposed to be about 13, and she keeps getting rapidly older each time they do meet, of which the intervals seems to be every couple of months. Cotton is smitten, though who can figure out why when Jennifer Jones trounces around singing creepy songs and insisting her trapeze artist parents are alive and working in a building that infamously burned down decades ago. Which leads me to think Cotton’s obsessive artist isn’t very sympathetic and just dense. Of course, he then can think of painting nothing else but Jennie. Well, you can see the conclusion from frame one, but the film sets about it like it’s an epic love story. The film’s strength comes from the beautifully shot finale, a huge sea storm that’s been tinted an ominous and deadly green for the film screen. While the film stands as an interesting depiction of obsession, I quite enjoyed the dreadful atmosphere Dieterele evokes, an almost predestination we have, both as humans and artists, to sabotage our talents at the same time we may be utilizing them the most. Lillian Gish also appears as a Mother Superior, and the always wonderful Ethel Barrymore scores the most touching moments of the film as an art curator who sees some talent in Cotton as she befriends him and helps save his life.
Lola and Billy the Kid (1999): Turkish director Kutlug Ataman directs this German language film which is basically the story of several different gay Turkish immigrants living in Germany (a cross section of attitudes and cultural racism recently seen depicted also in Fatih Akin’s The Edge of Heaven, 2008). The story is basically about a drag queen named Lola and her uber masculine boyfriend that’s nicknamed himself Billy the Kid after the cowboy hero from the west. Lola, violently estranged from his immigrant family (due to some secrets we find later on in the narrative) attempts to forge a relationship with his younger brother, Murat, whom he only recently discovered he had. Murat is also coming to the realization that he is also gay. Lola’s boyfriend, yearning to be seen as normal by the world, is insisting that Lola undergo a sex change operation so that they can legally marry. One has the sense that Lola, like the protagonist in Fassbinder’s devastating In a Year With 13 Moons (1978), would eventually go ahead with operation if push came to shove. But then there’s these vicious homophobic German men that take pleasure out of beating and stalking the Turkish homosexual prostitutes as they constantly lurk at the edges of the frame. An additional subplot involves a young Turkish prostitute that begins a relationship with a much older German john that lives with his filthy rich mother, which results in some very moving and touching moments in this rather bleak but excellent film about the desperation of these individuals living doubly on the outskirts of society. I’m keen on seeing director Ataman’s follow-up film, a Turkish pic called Two Little Girls (2005) as he is definitely a director to watch out for.
Myra Breckinridge (1970): Yes, that infamous, scandalous motion picture event that ruined a budding director (Michael Sarne) and was considered one of the worst motion pictures ever made. I quite disagree with this consensus and found Raquel Welch’s (whose beauty is truly breathtaking and showstopping here), presence and performance to be completely revolutionary and decades ahead of its time, much like the source novel by Gore Vidal (who hated the movie). Certainly not failed art (though I think a more risqué and accomplished director would have benefited the project---can you imagine what Schlesinger or Fassbinder or Fellini might have done with this material?) it is confusing, at times, to decipher just what’s going on between Myra and her male alter ego Myron (interestingly played by film critic Rex Reed), but that made the film feel like an arthouse Fellini picture. Mae West, in her late 70’s, was perfect for the role of Leticia Van Allen, a casting agent that specializes in sleeping with male actors and multiple double entendres (as was Mae’s own specialty). Her first picture in 26 years, she notoriously did not get along with Raquel Welch---but what aging diva would have? And then there’s a nubile Farrah Fawcett sharing bedroom scenes with Welch----a surreal experience to say the least. The plot is basically that Myron becomes Myra (in a surgery administered by a drugged up surgeon played by John Carradine) and comes to Hollywood to claim half the estate of an acting academy owned by her uncle (John Huston in a disgusting, memorable performance). Myra’s uncle Buck obviously doesn’t want to handle over the reins of his cash cow, and Myra is posing as the widow of his nephew Myron. While Myra attempts to assume control of the academy, she pursues another personal victory, attempting to sleep with a man and a woman so that she can have gained complete superiority as a being. An infamous (and hilarious) male rape scene ensues, along with two musical numbers performed by Mae West that you’ll either love or hate, and a conclusion that’ll leave you scratching your head. But you’ll realize you saw one of the most revolutionary mainstream motion pictures ever to come out of an American studio. And now I can’t wait to devour the novel.
Walkabout (1971): And the number one title this week is Nicolas Roeg’s hailed classic in the Outback, Walkabout, which is about two British children (a young girl played by English film star Jenny Agutter, and the boy the son of Roeg) abandoned in the Australian Outback after their father has, ummm, what appears to be a severe mental breakdown. Struggling to survive, the children stumble upon a young aborigine in the midst of his “walkabout,” a transitional period where young men wander off into the desert until they learn a thing or two about being a man (riffing on how Sigourney Weaver’s character in The Ice Storm, 1997, might have described such an ordeal). Roger Ebert states it succinctly, that Walkabout “doesn’t quite exist in the universe of words.” Yes, the story is basically about a boy and a girl learning to communicate and survive on their own with a young boy that also doesn’t speak their language. But there’s so much more going on than that. Obviously Roeg juxtaposes many instances of civilization vs. the natural world. Ultimately, we don’t focus or feel like the children are suffering (though a bizarre suicide might throw you if you’re not watching closely) but rather that they are on a mystical pilgrimage, and perhaps on a transition of their own. Evoking a magical ambiance and atmosphere, Roeg’s Walkabout is about beautiful landscapes and survival, and more so, about what exists beyond the frame of the film and existence.
Lean on Me (1989): It’s been a while since I sat down to watch a film being aired on television, but last week BET was showing this and I got the hubby interested enough to get into watching it. The film itself feels a little formulaic---how many cinematic heroic savior teachers/educational leaders have we seen before and since? Based on the true (though embellished) story of principal Joe Clark’s experience and renovations of Eastside high school, Morgan Freeman electrifies the screen with a memorable and moving performance. Though Freeman’s finally won his Oscar glory (albeit a supporting win for Million Dollar Baby, 2004) he was definitely shut out from a Golden Globe and Oscar nod in 1990 for his stellar performance here. Director John G. Alvidsen, responsible for the original The Karate Kid (1984), would go on to work with Freeman again in 1992 with The Power of One.
Strange Impersonation (1946): Before making his mark in film by revolutionizing the Western genre, director Anthony Mann made this B-noir sci-fi cheapie about a female scientist (Brenda Marshall) scalded by acid when her assistant sabotages an experiment so she can steal her fiancé. Of course, things don’t go as planned for the assistant when Marshall fakes her own death, undergoes a miraculous plastic surgery, and comes back for revenge! Elements of horror and the macabre keep this potboiler crackling as it races to its formulaic conclusion….but the film is both interesting as an early work of Mann, and also a noir that explores issues of smart ladies in the work force, while also depicting fears of plastic surgery in relation to identity.
A Woman’s Face (1941): Joan Crawford turns in one of her best (meaning less campy) performances in this remake of a Swedish Ingrid Bergman film from 1938. George Cukor, known as the ‘woman’s director’ (yes, he was very gay) was also Crawford’s favorite director to work for, completing this picture after having just worked for Cukor on The Women (1939) and the underrated and often ignored Susan and God (1940). Crawford stars as a scar-faced woman operating a blackmail ring until she stumbles into a plastic surgeon (Melvyn Douglas), the husband of one of her targets. Restoring her face, Douglas jokes that he created a Frankenstein monster, a bitter, broken woman with a beautiful face. Of course, he’s right, as Crawford’s next assignment sends her to Sweden as a nanny in a plot to kill the nephew of her lover so that he can be sole heir to a fortune. Plans are thwarted and the film is melodramatically recounted in flashback as Crawford is on trial for attempted homicide. Pure ‘40s melodrama, Crawford is beautiful and engaging and unfortunately didn’t garner any awards recognition here.
Sling Blade (1996): The stunningly moving directorial debut of Billy Bob Thornton, which also stars Thornton as a reformed handicapped convict that had murdered his mother and his mother’s lover as a teenager and is released decades later, is still the best movie Thornton’s ever done. In fact, I would have to put Sling Blade in a list of the top 50 Best Films ever made, if I ever were to write that list. I hadn’t watched it for well over a decade now, and the hubby’s been on a bit of a Billy Bob kick and I was very thankful to experience the film again as an adult. Thornton gets excellent performances from John Ritter, Dwight Yoakam, Lucas Black, Robert Duvall and Natalie Canerday as Lucas Black’s mother (while also having the distinction of featuring character actor J.T. Walsh shortly before he died). Thornton stars as Carl, recently released from an institution and who returns to his birth place without anyone to turn to or having any sort of plan for the future (preferring to live the rest of his life in the institution). Befriending a troubled young boy and his mother, Carl ends up face to face with Dwight Yoakam, the mother’s red neck, alcoholic, abusive boyfriend. The results are, shall we say, satisfactory for all parties involved. I don’t want to go into too much detail as it’s best just to sit and watch it if you’ve never had the pleasure, but I’m quite sure that I’ve neglected to watch Geoffrey Rush’s Oscar winning performance in Shine (1996) because something tells me I’ll never find it as excellent as Billy Bob Thornton in Sling Blade.
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