Ray Harryhausen
(1920-2013)
The Last of the Old
School Special Effects Masters has passed away. Now Harryhausen joins Albert
Whitlock, Derek Meddings, L.B. Abbott and a small handful of others creating
special visual effects for the Afterlife—all without computers!
Big Ray was no hired
hand, though:
Harryhausen’s was the
rare case of the special effects man determining the path of the motion picture
routinely—essentially acting as a hands-on producer (even the directors usually
hired by him and partner Charles H. Schneer were non-entities: so as not to
interfere?). His individualized, specific form of stop-motion animation is
intractably tied to the movies they were in and vice versa.
There is a certain tone to Harryhausen’s flicks, combined
with an extravagant but classical sense of fantasy that puts his name directly
on the same level as George Pal and Walt Disney as the Masters of Family-Friendly
Fantasy. You might consider it a level of “cheese” in Harryhausen’s wholesome
enterprises, but it is extremely earnest, and absolutely charming—and drips
with the hard work of one solitary man.
 |
| RH behind the scenes on one of my favorites, Earth Vs. the Flying Saucers |
And in the old
days—shut up, kids, grandpa’s talking!—effects in films could usually be
measured in frames, before they’d cut away to the star and romantic interest
gazing in awe/fear/etc.
It’s almost a good
thing that Ray Harryhausen hadn’t worked since 1981. He ended at essentially
the top of his game technically, with a film, Clash of the Titans, that wasn’t perfect, but was a box-office
champ and eventually became a well-remembered “classic,” constantly shown on
TV.
Big Ray spent his
last 30 years basking in glory, getting touted hither and yon, often making
cameos in other director’s films, many for John Landis. It’s too bad he didn’t
get to do any animating during this time, but looking at how much SPFX has
changed—and how much audiences have lost their suspension of disbelief—I feel
anything Harryhausen could have done in this time would not have been
appreciated or understood; or given due praise like his classics from the 1950s
to early-1970s.
 |
| Big Ray unleashing the Kraken! |
THE FILMS OF APRIL
2013
 |
| The Ymir from 20 Million Miles to Earth (great title, superb monster) gets recognition on the cover of The Monster Times! |
Hmmm, lots of sci-fi
this month—at first… But a very healthy dose of genre product
throughout—remember, it’s there where
truths can be found.
The Girl Who Leapt
Through Time (2006; Mamoru Hosoda) A fun movie from Japan about an awkward
tomboy, Makoto, who gets time travel powers—and totally wastes them in ways
that make sense to a goofy teen girl: Shifting time to relive fun moments,
especially hanging out with good friends.
More of a YA story;
with its measured pace, the film allows the viewer to relive the uncomfortable
craziness of teen love, with characters who are scared of their emotions;
acting like real people—which is wonderful coming from an anime.
Robot & Frank
(2012; Jake Schreier) This is unique sci-fi, and a welcome relief to
intergalactic battles and epic quests. In the near future, Frank, a
curmudgeonly ex-jewel thief with early-onset Alzheimer’s gets a helper
robot—which is soon learning to crack safes. With a little trimming, this film
could be a very poignant episode of The
Outer Limits, examining painful human situations through the beautiful lens
of genre. As is, the film is ultimately heartbreaking, and worth sticking
through till the end.
 |
| Not Harryhausen, but a vile and slick extraterrestrial from 2006’s Altered |
Altered (2006;
Eduardo Sanchez) Backwoods alien-abductees try and get revenge on the nasty ETs
that probed them, but honestly, it is a glaring sign of human hubris that
trailer park yokels think they can repel an intergalactic scout force. What,
they do? How? Whaaaa? Really? Oh,
boy…
This picture is not
as good the second time around; but worth it for the gore—once you get used to
the shocks, the story is pretty stupid. But great nasty aliens and super-icky
gore. Well-done Z-movie (if you don’t scrutinize the script), with plenty of
shocks and gore that you only have to watch once. Did I mention the gore?
Shining Backwards
& Forwards (2011-2012) John Fell Ryan’s unique transposing of the Kubrick classic upon itself, but reversed. Sometimes sublime—especially the
halfway mark of Halloran’s face—but sometimes just silly.
And if you’ve seen
the film as many times as I have, the whole endeavor could be a tad…tiring.
Seen through the
auspices of the essential Spectacle Theater in Brooklyn!
 |
| My favorite dragon! From Harryhausen's Seventh Voyage of Sinbad |
The Kids Are All
Right (2010; Lisa Cholodenko) Humorous fluff that thinks it’s deep: A
better-than-average Hollywood film about the turbulence a kid’s looking up the
identity of their sperm-donor father can cause. Full of awkward human moments,
the performances all feel naturalistic without being affected.
The fact that the
family is headed by a couple of lesbians seems almost secondary to me; and
interesting in its acceptance.
Lesbians have boring
middle class lives, too.
Just because you’re
lesbians doesn’t mean you’re perfect.
It helps the sitcom
vibe that the dykes are both beautiful and financially well-off, quite SoCal bourgeois—which
means this flick has no real bearing on reality. This family is insulated by
money, class and beauty. Still, an amusing film, if forgettable.
 |
| The First Men in the Moon |
Das Millionenspiel
(The Millions Game) (1970; Tom Toelle & Wolfgang Menge) What started out as
a spoof of game shows becomes the missing link between an entire sci-fi/action subgenre
and its literary source: Robert Sheckley’s story “The Seventh Victim,” made
into a well-remembered 1960s film The
Tenth Victim.
Much, much better
than The Hunger Games or The Running Man, smarter than Battle Royale (but not as gory or
action-packed) and Rollerball—but equal to Death Race 2000,
 |
| The Valley of Gwangi |
The Millions Game is how it would really happen,
including ridiculous advertisements, as a man is hunted down on live,
government-approved network TV. The situation wouldn’t hold up if the film (and
its TV show) didn’t pack on the details, getting the “game show” vibe just
right, from the unctuous host, to the bizarre dancers in the musical numbers,
to the replaceable assistants, to all the background on the “contestant.”
Primer (2004; Shane
Carruth) Another offbeat look at time travel and its inherent conundrums.
Nope, I didn’t “get”
it—but I liked it. The earnestness of the engineers shines through; that they
are always busy, whether talking, building or planning, certainly helps and
keeps the pace up.
 |
| Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger |
Sahara (1943; Zoltan
Korda) Excellent! Bogie takes on the Afrika Korps—and wins! Wonderfully
fatalistic wartime propaganda, aided by a great cast and a very fast pace, the
film is a good twist on the “lost patrol” subgenre that focuses on competent
men focusing against a common foe. Man, this flick is square-jawed.
This Ain’t California
(2012; Marten Persiel) Cool documentary about East Berlin skatepunks. Dude, when
compared to kids dealing with official nastiness like the Stasi, US
angst-ridden youth are losers.
Nature Calls (2012; Todd
Rohal) What could have been a mediocre comedy is saved by how smart (or rather,
sly), rude and fast-paced this flick is. Standouts are Patton Oswalt (bringing
genuine sensitivity to his character), Rob Riggle (who’s patented the
deranged/dangerous shrieking Man-Boy caricature) and the late Patrice O’Neal as
an angry dad whose kids think he’s a zombie, all aided by a transgressively
potty-mouthed brigade of pre-teens.
Respect Yourself: The
Stax Records Story (2007; Robert Gordon & Morgan Neville) Incredible documentary
about the rise and fall and sort-of rise of the legendary Stax Records:
“Soulsville!”
The best, highly
recommended; with an incredible soundtrack and some great performances captured
on film! Whew!
And make sure to
watch Stax/Volt in Norway (it’s
usually an extra DVD that accompanies Respect
Yourself: more fantastic perfs).
 |
| As great a pop culture icon as they come: the immortal Michigan J. Frog. |
One Froggy Evening
(1955; Charles M. Jones) A singing frog “ruins” a man’s life in this
philosophical morality tale.
I’d like to apply a
level of malevolence to the actions of Michigan J. Frog, but I can’t: we are
never given any evidence, like a sly look, or a raised eyebrow, that the
singing amphibian is out to “get” anyone. The critter exists in a time-space
nexus where only the
currently-imprinted human gets the musical show. Michigan just absolutely
cannot perform when others are watching; that’s all, like some cats are always
hiding when guests are around.
The amphibian is an
object of both temptation and salvation—because while it would suck not being
able to share it, having a singing-dancing pet frog would be pretty cool—except
for when he won’t shut up, and that’s when you invite company over.
But why are the men
tempted? They see something almost miraculous and the first thing that comes to
their minds is money and wealth. The frog might have danced for others if these
workmen had thought of taking the croaker to a room full of crippled kids or
burn victims. After all, the singing and dancing is not completely in their
heads—that cop who busts the shlub in the wintery park heard somebody singing.
The immortal Michigan
J. Frog could have said (sang?) to them, “This is something that can only be
enjoyed when you are alone; do that, and all will be well. Besides, why are you
trying to exploit my talent? Learn to sing yourself!”
 |
| Quasi-psychedelic lunar city from Harryhausen's The First Men in the Moon |
But these
frog-finders still wouldn’t have listened, being creatures of their social
environments, corrupted so much as to ignore spiritual value. Leaving the
construction site, the shlub tiptoes past—hardly even glances at—a big, bright
red “DANGER” sign: he was warned, but now will pay. The escape from suffering that he thought money would bring
was right in his hands the whole time—but he just couldn’t see it. Sigh…
Relentless (1989;
William Lustig) The wonderful Spectacle Theater of Brooklyn had a special evening of legendary
grindster William Lustig’s films featuring this film and Maniac Cop (below), with the jovial and loquacious director
providing Q&A before and after the movies. Relentless is a cops vs. serial killer flick that’s fun if you’re a
Lustig fan: he brings a real “Fuck You, I’m From New Yawk” attitude to his
treatment of Los Angeles cops and their way of doing things. Also, I like
Lustig’s subtextual message that the police force is like an infectious poison:
Judd Nelson’s psycho is the son of a brutal, mega-fascistic, quasi-survivalist
nutjob homicide detective, and when Nelson is rejected from the police academy,
he wants revenge! Hey, didn’t this sort of thing just happen recently in
Southern California…?
Maniac Cop (1988;
William Lustig) Lustig and writer-producer Larry Cohen and conceived of this
slice of grindhouse genius in an afternoon, after realizing how awesome the
title was.
 |
| Ray & Medusa |
Largely shot in Los
Angeles, but set in NYC (with a few marvelous stolen shots of boozing policemen
from a St. Patrick’s Parade), director Lustig really gets a cop-fear vibe
working as a giant maniac dressed as a cop goes around killing anybody—but
especially innocent civilians unfortunate enough to cross his path. It turns
out the Maniac Cop was some Dirty-Harry-type who used to falsify evidence
regularly, and after he was busted, he was shanked in prison—only to be revived
by the jailhouse sawbones. Aided by his mousy, but right-wing girlfriend,
Maniac Cop has been staying ahead of the police, slaying more random citizens.
In its roundabout
B-movie way, Maniac Cop questions the
need for an armed security force that never seems to be around when you need
it, nor answerable for its actions: blaming and killing others before even
beginning to question whether its actions are as righteous as it claims.
Sinister (2012; Scott
Derrickson) Great stuff! Really moody and creepy supernatural thriller, that I
think I like more than Insidious (even though that movie has more scares).
Ethan Hawke is a
down-on-his-luck writer of true crime books who’s moved his wife and kids into
the house where an entire family was killed (by hanging) and one child
disappeared. Hawke’s researching a book on the crime, and desperately hopes it
will jumpstart his career—and home life: both are a mess; it’s been 10 years
since his last hit, his wife is hardly supportive, and his kids are brats.
We learn that
Ellison, Hawke’s character, never became a writer out of burning need, but as a
quick route to easy cash, and the success of his first book proved him
right—for a while.
The writer makes a
nightmarish Faustian bargain when he discovers super-8mm movies of a whole slew
of crimes dating back to the 1960s (including the one he’s researching that
happened in his own backyard)—and he doesn’t call the police.
Things only get more
and more ghastly in this demonic thriller, with many well-earned chills and a
high level of macabre weirdness—there’s a seriously transgressive vibe to many
of the murders—and a really delicious twist (you may know it’s coming, but not
how it’s done). With some swell cameos by James Ransome as a smarter-than-he-looks
deputy and an uncredited Vincent D’onfrio as a jovial occultist, Sinister is a dense and unnerving
B-movie, with a deep desire to scare you,
worthy of being discovered. If it ends up on Nflix InstaVue, I’ll watch it
again.
 |
| The Golden Voyage of Sinbad |
The Night God
Screamed (1971; Lee Madden) Reviewed HERE.
Giant God Warrior
Appears In Tokyo (Kyōshinhei Tokyo ni Arawaru) (2013; Higuchi Shinji) Not sure
of its origins but who doesn’t love short films about gigantic kaiju mecha-warriors attacking?
Directed by Brian De
Palma (2009; Joel Bocko; video essay) Worth seeing for the unique, possibly
unconscious juxtapositions in De Palma’s films. Hardly 10 minutes; check
it out, film fans!
Ghosts…of the Civil Dead (1988; John Hillcoat)
A grim and violent, yet also experimental and incredibly prescient film about
the future of the “prison industrial complex.” The convicts have more and more
“rights” taken away arbitrarily, until hate and mayhem is the only answer. This
then gives the owners of the jail the opportunity to ask the State for more
money and power to better “control” the situation (that they created in the
first place).
Meanwhile it’s to the
shareholders’ benefit to routinely release messed-in-the-head, potentially
violent parolees (usually made that way by the awful conditions of the prison)
because anything “criminal” they do will frightened the “normals” into
demanding sterner laws and tougher sentences—and more prisons.
A disturbing, angry
film that still packs a punch.
 |
| Behind the scenes with Ray and my favorite dragon |
Felidae (1994;
Michael Schaak) Various felines around the city are being brutally murdered,
and Francis, the new cat in town, is determined to get to the bottom of it. Don’t
let the somewhat unimaginative animation turn you off; it is only there to lull
you into complacency: soon you’re in blood-splattered, genocidal-plot territory
with a very complicated scheme to alter the evolution of cats. It’s like a German-language
cat mash-up of Steven Soderbergh’s underrated Kafka (1991) and Alex Proyas’ Dark
City (1998), with cats in the leads—and worth hunting down, if anything
because it’s so unique.
The Silence of the
Forest (2003; Bassek ba Kobhio & Didier Ouénangaré) After getting educated
in France, a noble-minded young man returns to his unnamed African nation
hoping to change things for the “better.” Ten years later, he’s a bitter
minister who splits from the whole scene by joining a pygmy tribe deep in the
jungle. But the man keeps trying to impose “civilized” values on the “natives,”
only festering tragedy. An angry, bitter—almost hopeless—film that offers no
solutions, whose protagonist despite his claims, may not be that decent a
person.
Bone Sickness (2004; Brian
Paulin) If someone was trying to make the worst Lucio Fulci movie
possible, this would be it. Shot-on-video trash—that I fell asleep during…
 |
| Mysterious Island (and photo below) |
The Hurricane (1937;
John Ford) reviewed HERE
Red Spirit Lake
(1993; Charles Pinion) Longer review forthcoming.
We Await (1996;
Charles Pinion) Terrence McKenna’s San Francisco Cannibal Massacre is more like
it! Longer review forthcoming.
The Bay (2012; Barry
Levinson) Very moody, with lots of well-earned shocks, but overall kind of, um,
watered down. Told through “found footage” (a subgenre I really like), we see a
small town get infected by the larva of isopods from the bay—that have mutated
from eating the genetically-enhanced chicken run-off dumped in the water. There
are plenty of gross moments, but the movie isn’t sick enough, doesn’t go for
the jugular like it should. It lacks a sense of desperation and serious outrage.
And the young reporter’s exposition-heavy narration should have been edited
out; silence would have been better.
Books Read in April
2013
War, Politics and Superheroes:
Ethics and Propaganda in Comics and Film by Marc Di Paolo
Despite a title that
threatens to suck all the air out of the room (a legacy of its history as a
textbook; Di Paolo teaches at Oklahoma City University), this is quite the pageturner,
with plenty of research, attitude and heart: the author believes in the transformative
power of art, even pop culture “junk”/termite art like comic books.
Sticking to the
post-WWII English-speaking world (sorry, no cultural deconstructions of manga
here; that in itself is its own encyclopedic tome), fans of Zizek’s lectures
(lively affairs compared to his often dry texts) will enjoy WP&S’s constant political/comic book
cross-referencing, examining the neoconservative beliefs of Tony Stark/Iron
Man, or Bruce Wayne’s latent feudalism (it’s about inheritance). On the flip side, Di Paolo rehabilitates Superman as
a transcendent New Dealer, and casts a new light on Wonder Woman and Spiderman,
borderline anarchist and passive-aggressive social climber, respectively.
It will help if
you’re somewhat familiar with the various superheroes of pop culture (because
this book includes England’s Dr. Who and 24’s
Jack Bauer—as diametrically opposed political viewpoints as you might guess),
as well as the major players in the creation of contemporary comics are. If you’ve
never heard of at least Stan Lee, Jack Kirby, Alan Moore or Steve Ditko, don’t start
here. That’s why this thick book is so darn cool: it’s for insiders, people already in the know—fanboy and post-fanboy alike, and
it expects you to already have a working knowledge of the biz and its major
characters—I wasn’t familiar with a variety of the plotlines Di Paolo makes
reference to, but I knew enough, and he provides just enough detail, that I
could keep up. Ben “The Thing” Grimm’s self-exile rather than register with a
crypto-fascist superhero regulation is vibrant political protest even if you’re
not familiar with the specific story.
If you grew up with
comics, or consider them a valid storytelling form, and you enjoy quasi-leftie
contemporary pop-culture critical theory, then War, Politics and Superheroes should be on your shelf.
A longer review of
this highly recommended volume will be appearing in Film International in early 2014.
Uglies by Scott Westerfeld
Part one of a
trilogy, this YA novel is enjoyable enough, a sort of Logan’s Run for teenagers: When you’re 16, you are ordered to get
surgery that makes you the socially-acceptable norm for beauty, or a “Pretty.”
But some kids don’t want it, and split their perfect cities of the future for
the desperate wastelands beyond the suburbs, becoming renegades.
Cool, fun book that
follows Tally, a rather disagreeable protagonist, as she’s blackmailed into
finding and betraying the renegades, or “Smokies.” It’s to Westerfeld’ credit
that you are compelled to read, read, read even as you want to throttle Tally
about a dozen times. Like the similarly-themed post-dystopian/bread &
circuses soft-fascism of Suzanne Collins’ novel of The Hunger Games, the author presents a controlled world where the
lead must internalize almost everything, and play multiple roles to advance in
the “game.”
I’m recommending this
as a stand-alone, and I don’t intend to read its follow-ups, because the
open-ended conclusion of Uglies makes
it seem deeper, like a Philip K. Dick adventure for adolescents, with a superb
commentary on “what is real?”—as opposed to a marketing ploy.
Metalzoic by Pat Mills & Kevin O’Neill
(graphic novel)
A zillion years in
the future, the reversing of Earth’s magnetic polarity has given metal life,
and it has evolved into critters akin to those on the African plains and
jungles: elephants, giraffes, snakes and so on. This graphic novel follows a
brutal android proto-gorilla as he, well, conquers the world. Dense, scratchy
art by Kevin O’Neill (pre-Marshal Law
and League of Extraordinary Gentlemen)
is the prime reason to pick up Metalzoic
for a thousand reads—while the script is fun, it’s smart enough to know when to
get out of the way.
No comments:
Post a Comment