Out of the Past: The Week In Film

Cess Pool Cinema
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The Banal, the Blah, The Banausic:
1. Black Sabbath (1963) Dir. Mario Bava - Italy
2. This Woman Is Dangerous (1952) Dir. Felix E. Feist - US

Astounding Cinema
2. Fists In the Pocket (1965) Dir. Marco Bellocchio - Italy
1. Lolita (1962) Dir. Stanley Kubrick - US

Theatrical Releases
3. In the Loop (2009) Dir. Armando Iannucci - UK 8/10
2. A Perfect Getaway (2009) Dir. David Twohy - US 8/10
1. The Cove (2009) Dir. Louie Psihoyos - US 9/10

Rewatched Goodies:
1. I've Loved You So Long (2008) Dir. Philippe Claudel - France

Sadly, I've no deliciously awful cess pool films to rip apart this week. You may also note that there are not as many films to discuss this week (especially since I've also neglected to discuss some pretty good theatrical releases) but this would be because I've been going to bed earlier and earlier---did you know a long, full, exhausting day seems to be the best way to avoid missing someone?

Another Mario Bava selection (I happen to own the two recent box set volumes of his films released, don't ask why) that I finally got around to watching was Black Sabbath (1963), a compilation of three short films (and with Salvatore Billiterri also not listed as co-director) only loosely strung together by an aged Boris Karloff narrating in between segments. Interestingly the whole film seems to be dubbed, in, err, Italian. Which I prefer to MOST giallo and Italian horror films that dub their actors even if they were originally filmed in English. I hate dubbing, and as English is my first language, well, you can only imagine my disdain. The biggest problem with compilation horror films is that they are difficult to judge. One awful segment can bring down your overall rating of the film, etc. Anyhow, the first segment, which is the most interesting (to me) but also the least thrilling, is called "The Telephone." A woman in her apartment starts to receive strange and threatening phone calls, and it is slowly revealed she was instrumental in sending a past lover to prison who has escaped or been released, or something pressing like that. However, it turns out that the caller is a lesbian friend of the woman, scaring her into inviting her over for a little somethin somethin. Ironically, the criminal does appear and puts the kibosh on said lesbian's predatory plans. Like when the T-Rex eats the velociraptors in Jurassic Park (1993). I do appreciate the very dated terror the telephone could induce. There's just no remaking films like this, or Sorry, Wrong Number (1948) or The Human Voice (1966) --- the one starring Ingrid Bergman is the best---because we have moved into terrorizing people with telephones in different ways these days. But Bava's use of sexual dynamics, and mostly what's only really hinted at, is what makes "The Telephone" the most relevant segment. The second segment actually stars Boris Karloff, titled "The Wurdulak," which centers around a small hamlet terrorized by a vampiric creature that everyone insists on calling a wurdulak. It's nice to have other words for things, but it just seems like a stretch. We all have certain parameters to work with. I could make a short film about a horrible creature that turns into a wolf-like being during the fool moon and call it the Werkengolemstein, but in the end everyone would call it my werewolf movie. Boris is obviously having fun, especially when he dons a feathered bonnet, riding around on a horse and looking all crazy, demanding his alarmed family slay the howling dog trying to alert them. The last segment is also a bit formulaic. "A Drop of Water," is about a bitchy nurse that steals a big, ugly ring off the corpse of a recently deceased psychic. Yes, it's atmospheric, but how bad or terrified should we be expecting to feel? We all know it's not really kosher to steal from corpses, much less psychic corpses (a very creepy looking one at that) that we're told died in the middle of a seemingly violent seance. So is it surprising when the psychic lady's corpse comes back for vengeance? Hell no! Bava's done better, and I don't know if I will ever like anything better than his Black Sunday (1960) or I Vampiri (1956). Yes, he has a film called Black Sunday and Black Sabbath---which I think are both referring to blackening the same thing. Different words for things, you see.

This week's other banal selection happens to be a Joan Crawford vehicle I have actually waited for quite some time to get a copy of. This Woman Is Dangerous is Joan's notorious last film with Warner Bros., a film that she most certainly didn't want to do and publicly derided afterwards as being an awful film (much like Bette Davis' parting with Warner Bros. over the hammy but fun Beyond the Forest, 1949). And while This Woman Is Dangerous isn't as awful as all get out, it's definitely not very good. Joan stars as Beth Austin, a lady gangster who finds out she will be going blind in a week. Oh no! Well, her man gangster boyfriend (David Brian) is wanted by the cops, and Joan has to escape safely away to Indianapolis to have emergency surgery on her eyeballs. Thankfully, a doctor in Indy has conducted some experimental surgeries on soon-to-be-blind people with some success, so Joan throws herself under the knife. Of course, the surgery is a success and the doctor (Dennis Morgan) has fallen in love with Joan. But he finds out she's a lady gangster involved with a pretty bad crew. Joan is in hammy, bored mode, draining all the possible camp value out of the film. David Brian, who is Joan's love interest in the much more fun The Damned Don't Cry (1950), is quite atrociously over the top here. And we can't quite understand why Dennis Morgan is so taken with Joan---especially after he finds out she's got a record. But that was always Joan's schtick---girl from the wrong side of the tracks finds a good man to accept her for who she is and where she came from. The film should have been called This Woman Has a Dangerous Boyfriend.

In the top tier films this week we have Italian auteur Marco Bellocchio's debut Fists In the Pocket (1965), which tells the tale of a dysfunctional Italian family. Augusto (Marino Mase), the eldest, has taken over as patriarch for a family which includes two epileptic brothers, a blind mother, and somewhat normal sister. Ale, the middle brother, is deeply depressed and disturbed, fostering what seems to be a burgeoning incestuous relationship with his rambunctious sister. Augusto is the most normal seeming of the family, only due to his detachment, it seems, and the fact that he has a fiancee. Altruistically, Ale decides that he should just kill the rest of the family so that Augusto can lead a normal life as he senses that the rest of them are too far gone to ever lead a normal existence. Sometimes described as a horror film, Bellocchio's film is actually an astutely crafted film about the self-destruction and dysfunctional ties borne out of the nuclear family. It's quite a depressing depiction of a very depressed and self-aware young man in pain. Of course, at the point where he starts doing monstrous things like pushing his blind mother into a ravine, we know he's gone a bit far for us to sympathize with. Altogether, an excellent and dark little picture out of Italy. Bellocchio is still alive and working today, with his latest film Vincere (2009) receiving rave reviews at this year's Cannes film fest.

And this week's number one slot goes to master filmmaker Stanley Kubrick's adaptation of Nabokov's Lolita (1962). Having recently read (and fucking loved) the novel, I wasn't sure what to expect. While I still don't feel like James Mason was quite right as Humbert Humbert (I kept picturing Jeremy Irons, who portrayed Humbert in the 1997 version, which I've yet to see) but he did a fine job as the hypercivilized European with the tortured libido. I just don't find Mason as snaky, or reptilian, or as hilariously pretentious as I know Irons can be. Sue Lyon (who had annoyed me so much in The Night of Iguana, 1963) isn't half bad as the little nymphet. Peter Sellers, as Quincy, is just creepy. And the revelation here is Shelley Winters as Lolita's mother, Charlotte Haze. What a wonderful, irritating, realistic portrayal. I think I felt some actual human feelings for Winters as Charlotte Haze, which I most certainly did not in the novel, where she's painted as a simpering, pathetic waste of existence. I never really had a Shelley Winter's phase, but after recently seeing What's The Matter With Helen? (1971) and The Big Knife (1955), I'm looking forward to more. If you haven't seen Lolita (1962) and you love movies, I highly recommend this dark little romp. And if you wish to read an excellent novel, I highly advise you read it first.