"If I'm a bitch, your momma's a bitch, BITCH!" - Janet Jackson, Poetic Justice
The week in movies:
Cinema Cess Pool Selection:
1. Prom Night (1980) Dir. Paul Lynch - US
2. MPD - Psycho (2000) Dir. Takashi Miike - Japan
Middle-of-the-Road Mediocre:
1. Passengers (2008) Dir. Rodrigo Garcia - US
2. Another Time, Another Place (1958) Dir. Lewis Allen - US
Re-watched Goodies:
1. Jenifer (2005) Dir. Dario Argento - US
Top DVD picks:
3. 13 Tzameti (2005) Dir. Gela Babluani - France/Georgia
2. Poetic Justice (1992) Dir. John Singelton - US
1. Yella (2007) Dir. Christian Petzold - Germany
A quick run down of why I put what where at any given time (so that I can avoid throwing lists everywhere without explanation), let's start with my Cinema Cess Pool category, which is how I will refer to the awful cinema I subject myself to on a weekly basis.
Now, I obviously I knew that the original Prom Night wasn't going to be a slick little gem, but I suppose I also wasn't surprised at how schlocky it was. I find it quite amusing to see Leslie Nielsen in early 80's horror (I love Creepshow - 1982), but here he is simply a non-sequitor. And darling Jamie Lee Curtis, I'm sure she looks back on this little turkey with a smile. I am a fan of so-bad-it's-good cinema, but this one is just so bad that it's boring and unforgivably silly. A standout sequence is the, ummm, dance-off disco, where Jamie Lee drags her muppet haired prom king on the dance floor to show her nemesis just how this shit gets done. What's worse is the dress she actually wears to prom. It looks like Ukranian bag-lady's potato sack. Early 80's fashion aside, the plot revolves around the "accidental" death of a young girl (accidental would be three noisy children shouting the word Kill! repeatedly as they menacingly back a young girl up against a window she stumbles out of). The dead girl's older sister happened to be Jamie Lee, and an additional younger brother apparently witnessed the event, only to take revenge on Jamie's senior year Prom Night. It all makes perfect sense, you see.
The other putrid piece of cinema I watched was the first portion of a television miniseries by Takashi Miike called MPD-Psycho (2000). Miike is generally hit or miss for me. His Masters of Horror episode, Imprint (2005), made my best of list last week. However, some of his more unrestrained work (Ichi the Killer-2001) causes me to go into abuse victim mode, and the senseless violence seems to wash over me and, unintentionally, makes me bored. I suppose I am more of a fan of short, unforeseen, unpredicted bursts of extreme violence (Cache - 2005 is a good example) rather than such excessive violence that I go somewhere else in my head. Needless to say, this TV treatment about a police detective with multiple personalities who also happens to be an excellent profiler of serial killers is bit tamed down---and tamed down meaning all the sequences considered gory have been covered by a static sheen, the only print now available. The serial killer at first targets young women, cuts off the tops of their skulls and places a flower in their exposed brains. The second part of this miniseries focuses on another serial killer who targets pregnant women, cuts out their fetuses and places a phone where the fetus used to reside. It sounds intriguing. But it wasn't.
As for my mediocre viewings, Another Time, Another Place (1958) intrigued me due to the presence of Glynis Johns (you know, that cute old sassy grandma from Superstar! -1999 and While You Were Sleeping -1995). Lana Turner headlines and the film, which is most notable for introducing us to Sean Connery, whose eyebrows look like giant caterpillars (please note pic above). Anyhow, Lana and Sean are stuck in London, 1945. She's an American journalist and he's a war correspondent for the BBC and hails from a small, Cornish village. They are madly in love, but little does Lana know, he's a married man. That smug asshole. Anyhow, he breaks the truth to her moments before she is to break her own engagement (a robotic Barry Sullivan, who is also her boss). That night, the war also ends, and the couple decides they should keep going with the affair regardless, however, Connery dies in plane crash as he flies to another location to report some coverage or other. Turner has a breakdown, and some time later, on her way back to New York, she makes a trip to Connery's village and ends up staying at his home with his wife, played by Glynis Johns. She doesn't just stay the night, but weeks, eventually helping Johns put together Connery's documents to make a book. Sullivan crashes the party and upon his arrival it suddenly dawns on Johns that Connery was in love with another woman. Another time, another place, indeed. The most interesting aspect of the film is how Lana Turner's poorly conceived character is really only pulling a quick succession of bitch moves---I mean, how awful to sully some poor woman's image of her faithful husband. Plus, at the point where Connery reveals he's married, she should have realized that maybe she didn't know him so well and her love for him could very well be, ummm, unfounded. But we don't go there with the film, oh no. This is 50's high melodrama.
Passengers (2008) was, interestingly enough, directed by Rodrigo Garcia, whose previous credits are the highly acclaimed showcases-for-women cinema, Things You Can Tell Just By Looking At Her (2000), and Nine Lives (2005). Why, oh why, he decided to direct this philosophical concept drama posing as a supernatural thriller is beyond me. Tack on some painfully bad chemistry between Patrick Wilson and Anne Hathaway, as well as awkward supporting bits from Andre Braugher and Dianne Wiest, and yes, we have a mediocre film. The best moments in Passengers come from Hathaway, who several times has out-of-nowhere freak out shriek fests, such as when an eerie newspaper blows kind of towards her from out of nowhere in the middle of the day. Creepy.
Of course, right as I finally sit down to watch 13 Tzameti I learn that it's being remade (and starring 50 Cent, Jason Statham and Mickey Rourke). A creepy film with an intriguing concept, beautiful cinematography doesn't stop it from ending a tad predictably. And yes, there are some very intense scenes revolving around a light bulb in a situation that reminded me, strangely, of They Shoot Horses, Don't They? (1969).
And yes, Poetic Justice, starring the one and only Janet Jackson, a woman I've come to know quite well over the past several months since my boyfriend loves her like I love Sigourney Weaver, surprised me with it's depth as layered character study. I hadn't exactly avoided her cinematic debut, but I just never got around to watching it (and let's face it, Singleton's recent track record hasn't been the greatest). What I discovered was a touching story about two people coming together in a sometimes rough world. Though I didn't quite want Janet's Justice to end up with Tupac's Lucky (I felt he had some issues to deal with), it was still an entertaining ride, with help from alcoholic Regina King. Watch out for quick snippets from Jenifer Lewis, Cifton Collins, Jr. (who was credited as Clifton Gonzalez Gonzalez back then) and Maya Angelou. It's not explicit, but at least a gay African American character is somewhat present within the film's narrative, which also intrigued me considering this was an early 90's "street romance." Also excellent, the film opens at a campy drive in movie called "Deadly Diva," starring Billy Zane and Lori Petty, a treatment I'd pay to see more of.
And my favorite DVD pick of the week was Christian Petzold's gorgeously shot and extremely compelling, Yella (2007) starring the luminescent Nina Hoss, who always manages to look deeply troubled by the world. Opening with an intense sequence involving her ex-husband, Yella (Hoss) scrambles her way to West Germany to employment as an accountant. However, all is not as it seems. I'll just leave it at that, but if you happen to be a fan of Michael Haneke, you should see Yella. Haneke might not be pleased with a comparison, and no, Yella might not be as thought provoking or culturally philosophical as a Haneke film, but it's damn good cinema, nonetheless.
As for my re-watched selection this week, I must preface it with the fact that I've become quite crestfallen at the oeuvre of Dario Argento. Suspiria (1977) is a fun flick, if watched with the right crowd, but even Argento at his best isn't really very good. I understand the machinations of the Giallo movement (giallo, btw, means yellow in Italian; giallo films are like paperback "pulp" novels with the yellow paper in the drug store) and that all Giallo films and filmmakers should only be watched if you know what you're in for (though I think Mario Bava is quite good---sometimes), but some of Argento's other highly rated films bore me to tears. For instance, his "mothers" trilogy that began with Suspiria was followed up by the BORING Inferno (1980) and finally, the campy The Mother of Tears (2007). And don't even get me going on Deep Red (1975) or Tenebre (1982). And his work gets worse as time goes by (OMG the AWFUL Trauma - 1993). So imagine my surprise at liking his first entry in the Masters of Horror series, Jenifer (2005). Starring the flaccid Steven Weber as a policeman who saves a horrifyingly disfigured animal-like woman (who has the body of a supermodel), Weber takes "Jenifer" home, causing his wife to leave him and his life to fall apart. Jenifer is a very sexual animal and also like to eat cats, little Asian girls, and bums. Jenifer is, by no means, a good film, but it's funny in that WTF, who- thought-this-made-any-sense kind of way. And Jenifer herself is ludicrously grotesque enough to arouse a morbid interest in watching her. Argento's next entry in the series, however, was not quite so entertaining, the extremely asinine Pelts (2006), starring Meatloaf Aday.
Cinema Cess Pool Selection:
1. Prom Night (1980) Dir. Paul Lynch - US
2. MPD - Psycho (2000) Dir. Takashi Miike - Japan
Middle-of-the-Road Mediocre:
1. Passengers (2008) Dir. Rodrigo Garcia - US
2. Another Time, Another Place (1958) Dir. Lewis Allen - US
Re-watched Goodies:
1. Jenifer (2005) Dir. Dario Argento - US
Top DVD picks:
3. 13 Tzameti (2005) Dir. Gela Babluani - France/Georgia
2. Poetic Justice (1992) Dir. John Singelton - US
1. Yella (2007) Dir. Christian Petzold - Germany
A quick run down of why I put what where at any given time (so that I can avoid throwing lists everywhere without explanation), let's start with my Cinema Cess Pool category, which is how I will refer to the awful cinema I subject myself to on a weekly basis.
Now, I obviously I knew that the original Prom Night wasn't going to be a slick little gem, but I suppose I also wasn't surprised at how schlocky it was. I find it quite amusing to see Leslie Nielsen in early 80's horror (I love Creepshow - 1982), but here he is simply a non-sequitor. And darling Jamie Lee Curtis, I'm sure she looks back on this little turkey with a smile. I am a fan of so-bad-it's-good cinema, but this one is just so bad that it's boring and unforgivably silly. A standout sequence is the, ummm, dance-off disco, where Jamie Lee drags her muppet haired prom king on the dance floor to show her nemesis just how this shit gets done. What's worse is the dress she actually wears to prom. It looks like Ukranian bag-lady's potato sack. Early 80's fashion aside, the plot revolves around the "accidental" death of a young girl (accidental would be three noisy children shouting the word Kill! repeatedly as they menacingly back a young girl up against a window she stumbles out of). The dead girl's older sister happened to be Jamie Lee, and an additional younger brother apparently witnessed the event, only to take revenge on Jamie's senior year Prom Night. It all makes perfect sense, you see.
The other putrid piece of cinema I watched was the first portion of a television miniseries by Takashi Miike called MPD-Psycho (2000). Miike is generally hit or miss for me. His Masters of Horror episode, Imprint (2005), made my best of list last week. However, some of his more unrestrained work (Ichi the Killer-2001) causes me to go into abuse victim mode, and the senseless violence seems to wash over me and, unintentionally, makes me bored. I suppose I am more of a fan of short, unforeseen, unpredicted bursts of extreme violence (Cache - 2005 is a good example) rather than such excessive violence that I go somewhere else in my head. Needless to say, this TV treatment about a police detective with multiple personalities who also happens to be an excellent profiler of serial killers is bit tamed down---and tamed down meaning all the sequences considered gory have been covered by a static sheen, the only print now available. The serial killer at first targets young women, cuts off the tops of their skulls and places a flower in their exposed brains. The second part of this miniseries focuses on another serial killer who targets pregnant women, cuts out their fetuses and places a phone where the fetus used to reside. It sounds intriguing. But it wasn't.
As for my mediocre viewings, Another Time, Another Place (1958) intrigued me due to the presence of Glynis Johns (you know, that cute old sassy grandma from Superstar! -1999 and While You Were Sleeping -1995). Lana Turner headlines and the film, which is most notable for introducing us to Sean Connery, whose eyebrows look like giant caterpillars (please note pic above). Anyhow, Lana and Sean are stuck in London, 1945. She's an American journalist and he's a war correspondent for the BBC and hails from a small, Cornish village. They are madly in love, but little does Lana know, he's a married man. That smug asshole. Anyhow, he breaks the truth to her moments before she is to break her own engagement (a robotic Barry Sullivan, who is also her boss). That night, the war also ends, and the couple decides they should keep going with the affair regardless, however, Connery dies in plane crash as he flies to another location to report some coverage or other. Turner has a breakdown, and some time later, on her way back to New York, she makes a trip to Connery's village and ends up staying at his home with his wife, played by Glynis Johns. She doesn't just stay the night, but weeks, eventually helping Johns put together Connery's documents to make a book. Sullivan crashes the party and upon his arrival it suddenly dawns on Johns that Connery was in love with another woman. Another time, another place, indeed. The most interesting aspect of the film is how Lana Turner's poorly conceived character is really only pulling a quick succession of bitch moves---I mean, how awful to sully some poor woman's image of her faithful husband. Plus, at the point where Connery reveals he's married, she should have realized that maybe she didn't know him so well and her love for him could very well be, ummm, unfounded. But we don't go there with the film, oh no. This is 50's high melodrama.
Passengers (2008) was, interestingly enough, directed by Rodrigo Garcia, whose previous credits are the highly acclaimed showcases-for-women cinema, Things You Can Tell Just By Looking At Her (2000), and Nine Lives (2005). Why, oh why, he decided to direct this philosophical concept drama posing as a supernatural thriller is beyond me. Tack on some painfully bad chemistry between Patrick Wilson and Anne Hathaway, as well as awkward supporting bits from Andre Braugher and Dianne Wiest, and yes, we have a mediocre film. The best moments in Passengers come from Hathaway, who several times has out-of-nowhere freak out shriek fests, such as when an eerie newspaper blows kind of towards her from out of nowhere in the middle of the day. Creepy.
Of course, right as I finally sit down to watch 13 Tzameti I learn that it's being remade (and starring 50 Cent, Jason Statham and Mickey Rourke). A creepy film with an intriguing concept, beautiful cinematography doesn't stop it from ending a tad predictably. And yes, there are some very intense scenes revolving around a light bulb in a situation that reminded me, strangely, of They Shoot Horses, Don't They? (1969).
And yes, Poetic Justice, starring the one and only Janet Jackson, a woman I've come to know quite well over the past several months since my boyfriend loves her like I love Sigourney Weaver, surprised me with it's depth as layered character study. I hadn't exactly avoided her cinematic debut, but I just never got around to watching it (and let's face it, Singleton's recent track record hasn't been the greatest). What I discovered was a touching story about two people coming together in a sometimes rough world. Though I didn't quite want Janet's Justice to end up with Tupac's Lucky (I felt he had some issues to deal with), it was still an entertaining ride, with help from alcoholic Regina King. Watch out for quick snippets from Jenifer Lewis, Cifton Collins, Jr. (who was credited as Clifton Gonzalez Gonzalez back then) and Maya Angelou. It's not explicit, but at least a gay African American character is somewhat present within the film's narrative, which also intrigued me considering this was an early 90's "street romance." Also excellent, the film opens at a campy drive in movie called "Deadly Diva," starring Billy Zane and Lori Petty, a treatment I'd pay to see more of.
And my favorite DVD pick of the week was Christian Petzold's gorgeously shot and extremely compelling, Yella (2007) starring the luminescent Nina Hoss, who always manages to look deeply troubled by the world. Opening with an intense sequence involving her ex-husband, Yella (Hoss) scrambles her way to West Germany to employment as an accountant. However, all is not as it seems. I'll just leave it at that, but if you happen to be a fan of Michael Haneke, you should see Yella. Haneke might not be pleased with a comparison, and no, Yella might not be as thought provoking or culturally philosophical as a Haneke film, but it's damn good cinema, nonetheless.
As for my re-watched selection this week, I must preface it with the fact that I've become quite crestfallen at the oeuvre of Dario Argento. Suspiria (1977) is a fun flick, if watched with the right crowd, but even Argento at his best isn't really very good. I understand the machinations of the Giallo movement (giallo, btw, means yellow in Italian; giallo films are like paperback "pulp" novels with the yellow paper in the drug store) and that all Giallo films and filmmakers should only be watched if you know what you're in for (though I think Mario Bava is quite good---sometimes), but some of Argento's other highly rated films bore me to tears. For instance, his "mothers" trilogy that began with Suspiria was followed up by the BORING Inferno (1980) and finally, the campy The Mother of Tears (2007). And don't even get me going on Deep Red (1975) or Tenebre (1982). And his work gets worse as time goes by (OMG the AWFUL Trauma - 1993). So imagine my surprise at liking his first entry in the Masters of Horror series, Jenifer (2005). Starring the flaccid Steven Weber as a policeman who saves a horrifyingly disfigured animal-like woman (who has the body of a supermodel), Weber takes "Jenifer" home, causing his wife to leave him and his life to fall apart. Jenifer is a very sexual animal and also like to eat cats, little Asian girls, and bums. Jenifer is, by no means, a good film, but it's funny in that WTF, who- thought-this-made-any-sense kind of way. And Jenifer herself is ludicrously grotesque enough to arouse a morbid interest in watching her. Argento's next entry in the series, however, was not quite so entertaining, the extremely asinine Pelts (2006), starring Meatloaf Aday.
I'm so happy that you didn't pan Poetic Justice. I don't know that my heart could have taken it.
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