Out of the Past: The Week In Film

The Banal, the Blah, the Banausic:
1. Twin Falls Idaho (1999) Dir. Michael Polish - US
2. The Proposal (2009) Dir. Anne Fletcher - US

Guilty Pleasure Cinema:
1. Screaming Mimi (1958) Dir. Gerd Oswald - US
2. MST3K 3000: Gunslinger (1956) Dir. Roger Corman - US

Astounding Cinema:
6. Odd Man Out (1947) Dir. Carol Reed - UK
5. Dancing Lady (1933) Dir. Robert Z. Leonard - US
4. The Bride Wore Black (1968) Dir. Francois Truffaut - France
3. Sounder (1972) Dir. Martin Ritt - US
2. Brothers (2004) Dir. Susanne Bier - Denmark
1. In the Electric Mist (2009) Dir. Bertrand Tavernier - US/France

Theatrical Releases:
2. Skin (2009) Dir. Anthony Fabian - UK/South Africa 10/10
1. Bachelor Mother (1939) Dir. Garson Kanin - US 10/10

Rewatched Goodies:
1. Serial Mom (1994) Dir. John Waters - US

I really, truly wanted to cherish and love and enjoy the well received conjoined twin indie drama Twin Falls Idaho (1999) directed by Michael Polish and starring the director and his brother Mark. It had all the right elements, it seemed, to be a film that cinephiles like myself exist for---creepy conjoined twins, a love story, with high praise and accolades coining it a Lynchian romance. But I just couldn’t stand it. As a directorial debut, the film is impressive---but there are way too many narrative holes that quirky just can’t cover up. Though the Polish brothers have steadily directed feature films since their hailed debut (Northfork, 2003 and The Astronaut Farmer, 2006 attracting impressive casts), much of Twin Falls Idaho suffers most from a severely off-key and stilted performance from it’s female lead, former model Michele Hicks (prancing around on screen like a poor man’s Jennifer Connelly). And yes, Lesley Ann Warren even makes an appearance as the mother of the conjoined twins, though each scene with her feels sorely out of place, making this film all style and no substance.

The best thing about The Proposal is that is was supposed to be headlined by Julia Roberts and luckily she was too proud to take a pay cut, paving the way for at least a decent comedic actress to take over the lead role, that being Sandra Bullock. Yes, yes, I’m completely aware that Ms. Bullock’s done her fair share of mediocre romantic comedies, but she’s never been as catastrophically talent-less as the toothy, formulaic zombie tool, criminally over-paid, lamprey-mouthed horse of an actress Julia Roberts has always been. That said, director Anne Fletcher (27 Dresses, 2008) takes no time to build any amount of believable chemistry between Bullock and male lead Ryan Reynolds, who, by the way, is less of the stilted smug asshole that he usually is. That leaves the sole entertaining reason to ever see this film in the hands of the hilarious Betty White (though I prefer her similar and more foul mouthed turn in Lake Placid, 1999). Oh, and one scene of hilarity involving an eagle and a puppy. Other than that, we have excellent actors (Mary Steenburgen) being wasted in absolutely pointless roles alongside utter crap performers like Malin Akerman (who looks like a Swedish farm lass whose head has been inflated to the bursting point with helium). Yeah, not a whole lot to love about this by-the-books chick flick.

Oh Anita Ekberg and her lovely breasts---it’s almost a thing of sadness to see her films before she ballooned into a monstrous bulk, as she was such a beautiful creature. However, Screaming Mimi (1958), a C-grade film noir that’s never been officially released on video or DVD, is hardly a film that shows off any of her assets, even when she was often limited to showing off the physical ones (catch her blowsy turn in La Dolce Vita, 1960). The extremely ludicrous plot centers around Ekberg going crazy after she’s haphazardly attacked by an escaped maniac from an asylum in an outside shower while visiting her artist step-brother. The doctor treating her falls in love with her beauty and convinces her step brother that she’s dead, moves her out of state and controls her mind (which the doctor makes seem, well, effortless) while letting her be employed as a night club sensation in a nightclub owned by a woman played by Gypsy Rose Lee. Except that Ekberg’s act is anything but sensational. She can’t sing or dance, so instead she enters the stage with a tattered dress and chains and seems to perform acts resembling futile calisthenics rather than anything provocative or sexual in nature. Her face expressionless, she doesn’t even break a sweat in her lazy writhings---yet the audience cheers anyway. Oh yes, her step-brother created a sculpture of Ekberg screaming while she was under attack, sold to various art-houses around the country---coined the ‘Screaminig Mimi.” Ekberg goes batshit crazy when she sees the sculpture, which leads her to kill people, for some reason. Meanwhile, she develops a romance with the lead journalist covering the murders of exotic stripper-blondes around the city. The saddest thing about the whole production is that it was helmed by German import Gerd Oswald, who could prove himself more than capable at directing a decent film with good material and good actors (see A Kiss Before Dying, 1956 or the Stanwyck headliner, Crime of Passion, 1957).

Well you can’t expect a MST3K treated film to be a diamond in the rough, especially one directed by Roger Corman. Filmed in seven days and headlined by Beverly Garland (of “My Three Sons” and “The Bing Crosby Show”) and also featuring hammy lead John Ireland, Gunslinger is a B-Western with a lot of attitude and absolutely nowhere to go. In fact, this little turkey was even hard to sit through with the expert commentary of the MST3K crew, which involves a woman (Garland) taking over as temporary sheriff when her sheriff husband is gunned down. Rumor has it, actress Allison Hayes (playing Garland’s saloon owning nemesis) purposely slid off her horse and broke her arm in order to get out of completing the film. Corman filmed her right up until the ambulance arrived.

Carol Reed is a favorite director of mine---any film lover who hasn’t seen The Third Man (1949) or Our Man In Havana (1959) should make a point to see them ASAP, and so I hurriedly sat down to watch Odd Man Out (1947) upon discovering that MGM was losing the rights to the motion picture next month, therefore making the film unavailable on DVD and on Netflix streaming. Headlined by James Mason playing an IRA agent in Belfast (yes, James Mason with an Irish accent), the film’s main focus is on the survival of Mason after he is fatally wounded after a failed bank robbery. Mason spends most of this noirish yarn in pain, slowly dying while he hides out in the cold streets of Belfast while the police search for him. Reed’s film is most known for the hallucinatory atmosphere evoked by its beautiful cinematography as Mason gets weaker and weaker, culminating in a fitting, yet dark ending. One particular famous scene has Mason staring down at faces appearing in the bubbles of spilt beer on a bar top—and it’s interesting to note that Mason himself considered this his finest performance, and it is indeed a fine one. The Heights Theater in Minneapolis, Minnesota has booked a print of the film in December for a screening, right before the film may possibly disappear for good.

Best known as Fred Astaire’s film debut, Dancing Lady (1933) is also significant for the fact that Joan Crawford was Astaire’s first onscreen dance partner. One of the eight Clark Gable/Joan Crawford vehicles, Dancing Lady was one of Crawford’s favorite films, playing a burlesque dancer who nabs the lead in a Broadway production and the heart of the director. Dramatic tension ensues when the show’s rich producer (Franchot Tone, who would become Mr. Crawford #2) cancels production on the show to have Crawford all for himself. Of course, the show must go on, and it does, featuring an expensive enactment of the show, which includes lots of sumptuous choreography and impressively elaborate set pieces. However, one particular segment features the chorus girls singing---and you’ll understand why you’re not supposed to let them sing after seeing this unintentionally funny scene. I prefer the Crawford and Gable pairing in Dance, Fools, Dance (1931), but this frothy little feature’s worth a look.

I believe that plot-wise, Tarantino’s Kill Bill (2003) owes a lot to a little potboiler by New Wave artist Francois Truffaut, The Bride Wore Black (1968), featuring Jeanne Moreau as a woman whose husband is shot down on the stairs right outside the chapel, while she vows to wreak vengeance on those responsible. Spending the running time seducing and killing the five men responsible, Moreau happens to look frumpy and somewhat uncomfortable in nearly every ensemble she’s placed in---which makes her even more entertaining to watch in her wicked machinations. This is Truffaut’s homage to Hitchcock, whom he was obsessed with. Based on a story by Cornell Woolrich (who also wrote the source material for Hitchcock’s Rear Window, 1954) Truffaut also hired Bernard Herrmann to compose the score. An entertaining little piece of French murderous chic, catch it for the compelling Moreau.

A depressing, though overall uplifting tale about Depression-era black sharecroppers in the South, Sounder (1972) sports Oscar nominated performances from Cicely Tyson and Paul Winfield. After Winfield is caught stealing food, it’s up to Tyson and her children to continue harvesting the crops or be turned out of their home while Winfield serves a year of hard labor. The story really focuses on their son, David (played by Kevin Hooks) as he struggles to find out which work camp his father was assigned to (with the help of a friendly woman that his mother does laundry for, Mrs. Boatwright, played by Carmen Mathews). A truly heartfelt film about Depression era life, the lead performances are definitely not worth missing. Sounder is the name of their dog and I don’t know why exactly this is the name of the film. Intriguingly, Kevin Hooks would go on to direct a 2003 television remake starring Carl Lumbly and Suzzanne Douglas.

Before the soon to be released American remake hits theaters this December, I made it a mission to watch Susanne Bier’s critically acclaimed original film, Brothers (2004), starring Connie Nielsen, Ulrike Thomsen and Nikolaj Lie Kaas, and it is truly an amazing film that I am almost certain the remake will not be able to live up to. It’s interesting to note that Bier (an excellent filmmaker, who also helmed After the Wedding, 2006 and Things We Lost in the Fire, 2007) anchors the film around Nielsen, a woman whose husband (Thomsen) is sent to Afghanistan. When he’s pronounced dead after a fatal helicopter crash, Nielsen looks to her husband’s troubled, recently released from prison younger brother (Kaas), who also looks to Nielsen for emotional support. Though they don’t truly engage in any sexual activity, it’s quite obvious that the possibility is there---until it’s discovered that Thomsen is alive and has been a POW in Afghanistan after having survived some truly horrific events that he refuses to talk about but have obviously affected his mental health. Upon Thomsen’s return, emotions and events spiral out of control, making this a tasteful, tragic, and illuminating film of great beauty.

And by a nose, the number one film this week is the English speaking debut of French master Bertrand Tavernier, In the Electric Mist (2009), which screened at Berlin but received a direct to DVD release in this country, which is quite unfair as this features an excellent performance from lead Tommy Lee Jones (though conflicts between star and director were widely reported) as well as excellent support from Mary Steenburgen, John Goodman, Peter Sarsgaard, Kelly Macdonald, and Ned Beatty. Based on novel by James Lee Burke, Mist is set in Post-Katrina New Iberia Bayou in Louisiana. Jones is Dave Robicheaux, a detective investigating the murder of a young prostitute that may or may not have something to do with a mobster (John Goodman) who is now a film producer, sinking his money into a movie currently filming there with an alcoholic Hollywood star (Sarsgaard) and his TV star girlfriend (Macdonald) also in tow. Jones simultaneously stumbles upon the corpse of a black man, murdered decades before, gunned down in a swamp, a crime which Jones had been witness to as a young child, which he wishes to dredge up and properly execute justice, much to the chagrin of the murderers. With the current investigation of young prostitutes in New Iberia paired with the angry feelings of the past, Jones is joined by an FBI agent on the case (Justina Machado) as things begin to heat up, endangering Jones and his family. An excellent crime thriller, and a well filmed Burke adaptation, if you like the Southern gothic neo-noir, this is the film for you. I am saddened that it arrived with such a muted reception on our shores (rumor has it that different prints were released state side, with a ‘toned’ down ending as well).