Out of the Past: The Week In Film

"You can't learn to be real. It's like learning to be a midget." -- Jeff Daniels, The Purple Rose of Cairo (1984).

Well darling readers, if you're out there and staying tuned in, you'll notice that I have failed to update my weekly cinema rundown for the past two weeks. On the positive side, you'll be blessed with a comprehensive rundown of two weeks worth of cinematic musings. My reason for neglecting you all so was due to my boyfriend, who I have deposited in Miami for about 13 weeks for a required pre-req course for the medical program he was accepted into. Needless to say, I am feeling like a lost puppy. Please forgive me if I seem more macabre or nihilistic than usual. I will attempt to remain light hearted about my cinematical convictions, at the very least. Meanwhile, I am wooing my employer to transfer me to Miami. Remember that infernally and joyously racist Disney cartoon, Peter Pan? (I always liked Tiger Lily and named an acquired kitten after her when I was a young child, regardless of the fact that the kitten was male---this apparently didn't clue my parents off to anything even though I also watched, with voracious conviction, "My Little Pony"). Well, in Peter Pan, if my memory serves correct, there's a ridiculous moment where Tinker Bell is dying, or is in the midst of some such dither, and Peter asks the audience to clap for her, as collectively the well-meaning audience could revive her. I didn't clap as a child (I became afflicted with the morose attitude of wondering why the bad guys always had to be defeated at a young age) and I'm not exactly asking you, dear readers, to clap for me. However, a collective vibe of well meaning, I believe as an adult, could help my karma. So if a good human you see through all this disparate rambling, cross your fingers for me.


Cinema Cess Pool Selection:
1. Tammy and the Bachelor (1957) Dir. Joseph Pevney - US

The Banal, the Blah, the Banausic:
1. The Shuttered Room (1967) Dir. David Greene - UK

Astounding Cinema:
8. Otto: Or, Up With Dead People (2009) Dir. Bruce LaBruce - US
7. The Devil Is A Woman (1935) Dir. Josef Von Sternberg - US
6. HellBoy (2004) Dir. Guillermo Del Toro - US
5. Dangerous Liaisons (1988) Dir. Stephen Frears - US
4. Twentynine Palms (2003) Dir. Bruno Dumont - France
3. Longtime Companion (1990) Dir. Norman Rene - US
2. The Elephant Man (1980) Dir. David Lynch - US
1. The Purple Rose of Cairo (1984) Dir. Woody Allen -US

Rewatched Goodies:
1. Jurassic Park (1993) Dir. Steven Spielberg - US

Theatrical Releases:
4. Funny People (2009) Dir. Judd Apatow - US 7/10
3. Tetro (2009) Dir. Francis Ford Coppola - US 8/10
2. Orphan (2009) Dir. Jaume Collett-Serra - US 8/10
1. (500) Days of Summer (2009) Dir. Marc Webb - US 10/10

This week's singular cess pool selection nearly made it into the mediocre column until I thought more of it and decided that I definitely couldn't let myself even grant it that distinction. I had recently derided director Joseph Pevney in a previous post concerning his lackluster directing abilities in The Strange Door (1951), so I was already a little uneasy about Tammy and the Bachelor (1957), even though Pevney directed a favorite campy Joan Crawford performance of mine in Female on the Beach (1955). My original interest in Tammy was the fact that is starred a young and nubile Debbie Reynolds and of even more interest, Leslie Nielsen as the romantic lead---I knew I was up for a few creepy tingles down my spine. And there are, but even more so from the ridiculous story concerning Tammy, a backwoods but sweet hearted uneducated gal living with her grandpa (three time Oscar winner Walter Brennan as a preacher reduced to selling corn liquor) in some godforsaken forest in the South, dripping with all the fixings of Deliverance (1972). Not surprisingly, Reynolds is a chaste, Bible-quoting simulacrum of pleasantry and she falls in love with the Nielsen, a young (ha!) doctor discovered in the river as the result of a plan crash. No one bothers to slow down a second and tell Tammy that other men exist out there, but becoming fixated on the not particularly charming Nielsen (who looks like her father), the 17 year old Tammy is forced to go live in town with Nielsen when grandpa gets arrested for selling liquor. The story somehow skirts around the issue of Tammy's blatant white trash origins, but that's about as successful as Clay Aiken claiming he was heterosexual. In one particularly icky scene, Reynolds has to be involved in a ridiculous pioneer reenactment scene (Nielsen claims that his rich family only maintains their property because of this Pilgrim ritual acted out once a year where the public pays to tramp around the house while the elite residents pretend to be their ancestors---if that's plausible, then count me as being even more emphatically against ever living in an area this would happen). For some reason unbeknownst to myself, the film leads us to believe that Tammy's reenactment of some deceased Pilgrim woman is intriguing and somehow merits an eight minute monologue of blithering grammatical error. Thankfully there's the presence of Fay Wray who is at least realistic as Nielsen's bitch of a mother, as well as a smaller role of Mala Powers as his sometimes fiancee. Spawning an Oscar nominated song (about Tammy falling in love---oh it makes me shudder), the film is very 1950's and apparently it spawned three sequels (two of which starred another virginal 60's goodie girl, Sandra Dee) and a television series. The horror!

This week's one blatantly mediocre selection happened to be The Shuttered Room (1967), from another mediocre Brit director, David Greene, who happened to direct Madame Sin (1972), which focuses on a pickled Bette Davis as a nefarious Oriental spy attempting to control the world from her Scottish castle. Surprisingly, that film is quite boring, even though it had all the fixings of the ultimate camp classic. You have to be pretty bland to fuck up something that deliciously ridiculous. But Mr. Greene did. In this little turkey, Greene has control of an impressive cast, including Oscar winner Gig Young, Carol Lynley and Oliver Reed. Based on an H.P. Lovecraft story, the film focuses on the May-December couple Young and Lynley who return to the hick-town origins where Lynley was born to visit her relatives or sell the mansion she inherited, blah blah blah. Not surprisingly, there's some evil secret involving something kind of locked inside a room in the mansion, though I don't know how "shuttered" it is. The film could have been called "The Semi-Locked Room." I won't ruin the disappointing secret of what's in the room, but nothing in the film is very inspired, not even Oliver Reed as a hick vagabond, getting all Straw Dogs (1971) on the city couple. However, all tensions are quickly diffused before they can boil into anything more jarring than chasing Lynley to the edge of a dock. A forgettable effort.

This week's astounding cinema is larger than usual---however, the last two selections could have easily fallen into the mediocre section if I wasn't attempting to maintain an extremely positive outlook, currently. Rounding out the list is pornographer (ahem, filmmaker) Bruce LaBruce's latest, Otto; Or, Up With Dead People (2009), which concerns Otto, a gay zombie. Set in the streets of Berlin (since LaBruce is faux-European and seemingly obsessed with zee Germans--much like fellow Canadian singer Peaches---but we all can't be Nina Hagen) Otto stumbles into an underground filmmaker named Medea who is currently filming a movie about a fictional uprising of gay zombies. Medea, a bitchy lesbian that shares a few viewpoints with myself about Americans and capitalism, is the most entertaining portion of Otto. Perhaps a send-up of LaBruce himself, Medea and her gay film crew don't really think Otto is a zombie--they think he's just really into his part. The film points to zombies as a metaphor (don't all zombie films?), perhaps for consumerism? Perhaps homosexuality? Otto is compared to one of those sad, lost boys that become involved in the porn industry. Playwright Edward Albee comments on the cover of the DVD that Otto is an irritating film at times, but is overall entertaining. I agree, and am not sure how much of an in-depth analysis I truly wish to apply to the film. Based on LaBruce's past work, I couldn't believe how few pornographic scenes there actually were in the film. It's interesting to me that Medea, a lesbian, is documenting this metaphoric gay zombie crisis--the zombies are all gay men, leaving straights and women completely out of it. Much could be made about elements of Otto, but my favorite parts were of Otto's flashbacks with his boyfriend, which all blast an excellent little song called "Everyone's Dead" by The Homophones." Look it up.

Another selection I'm perhaps being a bit liberal with by saying it was astounding was Josef Von Sternberg's last effort with his muse Marlene Dietrich, The Devil Is A Woman (1935). The last of their seven films together, the theme is perhaps a fitting one for how their relationship lasted and ended. Dietrich plays a Spanish vixen, Concha, who virtually chews up and spits out Don Pasqual (Lionel Atwill), a virtual slave to her beauty. Told in mostly flashback, Dietrich's character is entertaining as a wardrobe changing, temperamental bitch of a woman. She obviously had a lot of fun with the part, and the best elements of the film are all of her breathtaking gowns, hats, and gorgeous makeup. Dietrich was always a captivating screen presence, and though she was always kind of the same, critics always seem to be up in the air about what her best Von Sternberg film is after The Blue Angel (1930). My personal favorite is Blonde Venus (1932) if only for the ridiculous plot involving radium poisoning, Cary Grant, and best of all, Dietrich's scene where she sings "Hot Voodoo" in a gorilla costume and a blonde afro--fuck, I love that. The Devil Is a Woman is based on the same source novel by Pierre Louys as Luis Bunuel's That Obscure Object of Desire (1977) which I am eager to see for comparison.

I kept putting Guillermo Del Toro's HellBoy (2004) on the backburner due to the fact that I have always been disappointed with his English speaking films as none of them seem to match the beauty, intensity or emotion of his Spanish films like Cronos (1993), The Devil's Backbone (2001) or Pan's Labyrinth (2006). Not that HellBoy is better than those films, but I certainly liked it a lot more than Mimic (1997) or Blade II (2002). The plot of HellBoy might be a little weak, but Del Toro's visuals are astounding, engaging, grotesque and beautiful. Despite the obviously fake baby version of HellBoy, the special effects deservedly take the center stage. I always enjoy Ron Perlman who has had an astounding and interesting career in horror and sci-fi films in an intriguing international sense. I'm quite happy that Del Toro resisted the studio's efforts to have HellBoy played by Vin Diesel, which would have certainly made me dislike the film. Selma Blair is alright as the supposed love interest, and I always enjoy the presence of John Hurt, a staple of dystopic cinema --ummm, please see Alien (1979); Midnight Express (1978); The Elephant Man (1980); 1984 (1984); V for Vendetta (2005) if you haven't. Like I said, the plot's a little iffy---and of course, Nazi's in 1944 begin our story of occultish evil (apparently there's not one dastardly bit of evil the Nazi's weren't a part of, from Indiana Jones to the X-Men, etc.) and I must say that I didn't really enjoy Rasputin being thrown in the mix---yes, the actual Russian advisor/mystic/enigma (cinemas' other staple for historical evils) as I wanted to thrown Boney M's brilliant disco song into the mix.

Well I finally did it. I sat down and watched Stephen Frear's Dangerous Liaisons (1988), which I discussed in my review of Frear's Cheri (2009). The all too familiar story does indeed feel like the Frears version does get credit for the definitive adaptation of the creepy, French sexual mind fuckery. I must say that though John Malkovich is nearly perfect for the role of Valmont, I most certainly didn't buy his wooing of the chaste Michelle Pfeiffer. A film about two wicked people, too proud and elite to admit their own attraction to each another and thus destroying the ability to love for all those around them, the film really seems, to me at least, to be a damnation of masculinity. Glenn Close is excellent as the Marquise---and I believe her character's speeches on her own villainy and bitterness due to living in a man's world carried the most weight for me. I wasn't quite taken with any other character's in the film as I was with her---she's the most realistic, the most wicked, and the only one I sympathized with. The final scene of Close wiping off her makeup as bitter tears well up underneath her hard gaze is captivating (and actually reminiscent of the final scene of Cheri). Keanu Reeves' painfully bad performance is a distraction, and it's intriguing to see Uma Thurman play a young target of sexual manipulation.

Twentynine Palms (2003) is really an irritating film. For most of it, we're forced to watch an icky looking photographer (who looks like a ragged, drugged out Tommy Lee) and his Russian/ French waif of a girlfriend (who looks like a beat down Michelle Pfeiffer) argue, have icky sex, argue some more, get jealous of one another, hit each other, and while doing not a whole lot as they claim to scope out some sort of area for David the photographer to shoot in the California desert. The film, of course, is Bruno Dumont's infamous attempt at a horror film, building a slow and steady unease only to suddenly shock us with two scenes of brutal and despicable intensity. It's the sort of film a cinephile will love or hate, and that mainstream audiences will never stomach. The domestic drama boils over into nauseating horror, akin to the way Catherine Breillat also makes some of her films---but I would argue, this sort of real-time horror is more realistic than standard American genre films. When we witness horrific goings-on in real life, what were the last two hours we lived right before that? Most likely monotonous drivel---imagine people watching you eat two muffins and drink a pot of coffee while you surf the internet for 90 minutes, only to have you open you bathroom door and get bludgeoned by someone looking like a cross between Charlie Manson and a large cat. And that's how watching Twentynine Palms feels. Dumont's latest effort will premiere at this year's Toronto Film Festival and I hope to see it.

The top three films in this post should all really be tied for number one. Tortuous soul that I am, my first night away from my boyfriend I decided to be really masochistic and watch the gay classic, Longtime Companion (1990) so that I could watch other gay couples being ripped apart due to the tragic origination of AIDS in the 1980's. Director Norman Rene would only go on to direct two other films, Prelude to a Kiss (1992) and Reckless (1995). However, he will always be remembered for his first film, which is credited with putting a much needed human face to AIDS. Looking back, this film, and the people who starred in it, were truly courageous and brave. We don't often see films like this even today in 2009, that are as frank about disease, about love and the portrayals of gay people. The film distracted me from my own sorrows for the evening and I ended up crying about other people, lost to the awful, unfair, but stark realism that is AIDS. The film still feels captivating and it's interesting to compare gay men's behavior towards AIDS today. All gay people should give standing ovations to actors like Campbell Scott (the son of George C. Scott) for his beautiful performance here as well as his involvement in other projects, such as The Dying Gaul (2005). Deserving credit should also go to Mary Louise-Parker, whose involvement in compelling cinema involving the GLBT community is astounding, for this and Fried Green Tomatoes (1991); Boys on the Side (1995); Angels In America (2003); and Saved! (2004). Look for entertaining and excellent performances from a young Dermot Mulroney, Stephen Caffrey, and a heartbreaking turn from character actor Bruce Davison (the anti-mutant, or homophobic, if you will, senator from X-Men, 2000).

I finally sat down and watched another film long on my list of things to see, The Elephant Man (1980), from one of my all-time favorite directors, David Lynch. While surprisingly straightforward for a Lynch film, Elephant Man is a heartfelt, bizarre, and beautifully composed piece of cinema. I am embarrassed to say I hadn't seen it before. John Hurt's makeup is amazing, and his performance commendable. Nominated for an Oscar, I wondered why he hadn't won until I remembered that De Niro won that year for Raging Bull. And yes, I was reduced to tears at the moment where Anne Bancroft dedicates a night at the theater to Hurt's character, John Merrick. Anthony Hopkins also turns in a good performance as the physician that rescues Hurt from the freak show at the circus. An amazing portrayal of humanity and the cruelty of human beings, The Elephant Man is a beautiful movie.

Floating to the top of my list this week is Woody Allen's The Purple Rose of Cairo, another classic film that's been written about time and time again. Perhaps one of the best movies about movies, Rose stars the scrappy but never lovelier Mia Farrow as a Depression era waitress who escapes her sad existence and her awful husband (Danny Aiello) by constantly going to the cinema. Enamored with the latest film at the uni-plex, The Purple Rose of Cairo, she sees the film repeatedly when suddenly, one of the characters in the film (a young Jeff Daniels) steps out of the screen because he fancies her. Mia reluctantly is swept off her feet. However, the rest of the cast is unable to finish the film, sparking a nationwide ruckus that involves the real actor that played Daniels' character to step in and also romance Farrow. A film that plays with the escapism and the hopes and dreams we bring to the cinema, Allen plays with the mechanisms of the audience and the picture show---those who are watched and those who do the watching. A movie about the magic of movies, Allen's excellent tribute ends magnificently and realistically. Such a lighthearted film ends almost jarringly painfully. In the end, I'll quote Sheryl Crow "It's not having what you want---it's wanting what you've got." Yes, isn't it ironic that this movie about the escapism and magic of movies only highlights the limits of this escapism? One of Woody Allen's best films I've yet to see, please see it if you haven't. It is just another film I've meant to see forever but am only recently getting around to (can you guess what I will be doing for the next 12-13 weeks?).