Movies: The Official "Movie of the Week" Club Thread III

[Jevo]

My next pick is The Adventures of Prince Achmed.

 

[Ralph Spoilsport]

"Where are they from?" Becky asks. "I don't know" Miles replies. "What happens to our bodies?" Becky asks. "I don't know" Miles replies, thinking "what am I, the answer guy?" I'm as confused as you, Miles, and I've seen Invasion of the Body Snatchers three or four times now...I still can't figure out how this whole transformation from pod to pod-person deal works. But the beauty of this movie is these things really don't matter. Normally, half the fun in science fiction and horror films such as these is in the creation of a threatening situation which, if not completely scientifically credible, is at least plausible if consistent with its own internal logic, given a little imagination and suspension of disbelief. By all rights fans and critics should have raked Invasion of The Body Snatchers over the coals for its half-baked horror...well, how DID that body appear on the billiard table? Instead, all the unanswered questions just escalate the heebie-jeebies.

The scares in Invasion of the Body Snatchers also come by going against the rules of the genre, borrowing a lot of influence from film noir…the music, the cinematography, and most of all its downbeat ending. The hero loses the girl…that's not supposed to happen! The psychiatrist's last-second phone call--"Operator, get me the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Yes, it's an emergency!"--can be seen as a saved-just-in-the-nick-of-time ending, but the look of terror on Miles' face--who has experienced bad service from operators earlier in the movie--says otherwise, and the words "The End" appearing onscreen--not after a fadeout, but as we're still with Miles in closeup--spell doomsday.

Invasion of the Body Snatchers introduced a new archetype to the genre--no monsters, mad scientists or supernatural curses. For that matter, no evil. Without a precedent to guide their response audiences would naturally project their own anxieties onto the film, and you have to admit all the political allegory interpretations--anti-conformity, anti-communism--fit really well. With all the current angst over climate change maybe it's time for another remake which emphasizes the ecological threat. These may not have been the movie's intentions, my guess is the horror was meant to be something more basic. Early in the movie Miles and Becky end their flirting with a kiss to which Miles slyly responds "Mmmm, you're Becky Driscoll, all right!" Later Miles fully realizes his deepest fear when he kisses Becky and...she's not Becky! So forget love, desire, ambition, faith...maybe life would be simpler without them. But life without sex?! Run! Run, like little Jimmy!

 

[Pranzo Oltranzista]

With all the current angst over climate change maybe it's time for another remake which emphasizes the ecological threat. These may not have been the movie's intentions, my guess is the horror was meant to be something more basic.

This leads me to believe you haven't seen the (far superior) 1978 version, which pretty much goes that way.

Here's the intro - (acid rain was the big frenzy of the time).

 

[kihei]

This leads me to believe you haven't seen the (far superior) 1978 version, which pretty much goes that way.

Here's the intro - (acid rain was the big frenzy of the time).

Different, certainly. But far superior? I prefer the original's economy of means and Siegel's adroit direction. That being said the Kaufman version is definitely a treat and well worth seeing. I wonder how Kaufman got to it before Cronenberg, though, I guess David wouldn't have had that much clout yet.

 

[Ralph Spoilsport]

Actually I have seen the 70s version...but not since the 70s! (Completely forgot Leonard Nimoy was in it.)

I wasn't looking out for subtexts at the time, was probably hoping more for a glimpse of bare breasts.

I was wondering why you were so high on the 70s remake, but thought that would be a discussion for another film in another week. But since we're here...

 

[Pranzo Oltranzista]

Different, certainly. But far superior? I prefer the original's economy of means and Siegel's adroit direction. That being said the Kaufman version is definitely a treat and well worth seeing. I wonder how Kaufman got to it before Cronenberg, though, I guess David wouldn't have had that much clout yet.

That would have been just right for Cronenberg's tropes, but I don't think he would have done better than Kaufman (not at the time - and I'm a big Cronenberg fan).

Actually I have seen the 70s version...but not since the 70s! (Completely forgot Leonard Nimoy was in it.)

I wasn't looking out for subtexts at the time, was probably hoping more for a glimpse of bare breasts.

I was wondering why you were so high on the 70s remake, but thought that would be a discussion for another film in another week. But since we're here...

Yes, bare breasts, of course. For that, you'll want to see the lesser Ferrara remake, where you get a glimpse of Gabrielle Anwar's very pleasant body. Not kidding.
(edit: this was not meant as a diss on Brooke Adams!)

As for the Kaufman film... I feel it's a masterpiece of horror sci-fi (top 3 with Alien and The Thing, wouldn't know how to rank them), it's one of the most efficient films in creating that feeling of what Freud called the unheimlich - a distortion of the familiar that causes your skin to (literally) crawl. It appears in ponctual fashion in some of David Lynch's works (my favorite example is the Bob-behind-the-bed scene from the European trailer of Twin Peaks, not the lesser version we got in NA). In Kaufman's film, it's intermittent (which is pretty rare), and manages to peak at the amazing ending (probably my favorite horror film ending). It's also pretty good in creating feelings of abjection (an uneasiness created by a sudden reminder of your own materiality, mainly as meat), especially when Sutherland bashes his clones, or when Brooke Adams' dissolve. These are things the best horror films work their ass off to only graze and that are here effortless and so very efficient.

Also, the bleakness of this film... The Mist isn't a masterpiece, but you have to admire it at least for its bleakness. It's almost as bad here (or it's even worse, as it is also visually both bleak and beautifully shot). As for the subtexts, all of the Snatchers adaptations have an easy pass on this - it's really easy to project the fears of the time into them, and the fight between individuality and conformity. Kaufman's film proposes IMO a lot more depth than the three others, if only through its characters' obession with the Self (you have to love Nimoy's psychobullshit doctor).

 

[Pranzo Oltranzista]

As for the Kaufman film... I feel it's a masterpiece of horror sci-fi (top 3 with Alien and The Thing, wouldn't know how to rank them)

Yeah, I did that, I quoted myself... Just wanted to add that I realized I forgot about Videodrome, so now I have a top-4 I can't really rank. But The Invasion of the Body Snatchers remains one of the rare films I think are genuinely scary - the other three too build extraordinary dense ambiance though.

 

[Ralph Spoilsport]

That would have been just right for Cronenberg's tropes, but I don't think he would have done better than Kaufman (not at the time - and I'm a big Cronenberg fan).



Yes, bare breasts, of course. For that, you'll want to see the lesser Ferrara remake, where you get a glimpse of Gabrielle Anwar's very pleasant body. Not kidding.
(edit: this was not meant as a diss on Brooke Adams!)

As for the Kaufman film... I feel it's a masterpiece of horror sci-fi (top 3 with Alien and The Thing, wouldn't know how to rank them), it's one of the most efficient films in creating that feeling of what Freud called the unheimlich - a distortion of the familiar that causes your skin to (literally) crawl. It appears in ponctual fashion in some of David Lynch's works (my favorite example is the Bob-behind-the-bed scene from the European trailer of Twin Peaks, not the lesser version we got in NA). In Kaufman's film, it's intermittent (which is pretty rare), and manages to peak at the amazing ending (probably my favorite horror film ending). It's also pretty good in creating feelings of abjection (an uneasiness created by a sudden reminder of your own materiality, mainly as meat), especially when Sutherland bashes his clones, or when Brooke Adams' dissolve. These are things the best horror films work their ass off to only graze and that are here effortless and so very efficient.

Also, the bleakness of this film... The Mist isn't a masterpiece, but you have to admire it at least for its bleakness. It's almost as bad here (or it's even worse, as it is also visually both bleak and beautifully shot). As for the subtexts, all of the Snatchers adaptations have an easy pass on this - it's really easy to project the fears of the time into them, and the fight between individuality and conformity. Kaufman's film proposes IMO a lot more depth than the three others, if only through its characters' obession with the Self (you have to love Nimoy's psychobull**** doctor).

I'm the guy who almost never rates a remake higher than the original, even if it is an improvement. I expect it to be better--easier to reach higher when standing on someone else's shoulders. I always give props to those who did it first.

The term "uncanny" gets tossed around and I'm not even sure if I understand the meaning correctly, but your comments about the unheimlich made me think of a particular scene in Invasion of the Body Snatchers and thankfully it's on Youtube. Becky's cousin tells Miles how her Uncle Ira isn't Uncle Ira anymore...that's uncanny as it is. We occasionally see old Ira in the background cutting the grass, going about his business as usual. It's mostly expositional dialogue that lays out the situation, tying together in one case all the oddities that Miles has been noticing around Santa Mira. But it's the shot near the end (around 3:10) that really got under my skin. As Miles and Becky prepare to leave we cut to a long shot and suddenly Ira is in your face, walking right across the shot so close that he's not even in focus. The sound of the lawnmower buzzes in your ear like a bee that's too close for comfort. It's just a brief second or two but disturbing...seemed like an "unheimlich manoeuvre" to me.

 

[Pranzo Oltranzista]

I'm the guy who almost never rates a remake higher than the original, even if it is an improvement. I expect it to be better--easier to reach higher when standing on someone else's shoulders. I always give props to those who did it first.

The term "uncanny" gets tossed around and I'm not even sure if I understand the meaning correctly, but your comments about the unheimlich made me think of a particular scene in Invasion of the Body Snatchers and thankfully it's on Youtube. Becky's cousin tells Miles how her Uncle Ira isn't Uncle Ira anymore...that's uncanny as it is. We occasionally see old Ira in the background cutting the grass, going about his business as usual. It's mostly expositional dialogue that lays out the situation, tying together in one case all the oddities that Miles has been noticing around Santa Mira. But it's the shot near the end (around 3:10) that really got under my skin. As Miles and Becky prepare to leave we cut to a long shot and suddenly Ira is in your face, walking right across the shot so close that he's not even in focus. The sound of the lawnmower buzzes in your ear like a bee that's too close for comfort. It's just a brief second or two but disturbing...seemed like an "unheimlich manoeuvre" to me.

Very interesting scene indeed, and it is certainly relating to the uncanny - the character is nicely describing her own feeling, but the scene is not (to me) effective enough to force me into an empathetic response. Her Uncle feels uncanny to her, but not really to me. The Donald Sutherland character feels uncanny to me at the ending of the remake - just like Laura's room, through her mother's recollection, suddenly feels uncanny to the spectator when he realizes Bob is hiding behind the bed - and achieving that is a feat.

One of the last scenes of Don't Look Now achieve that too. I could post it here, but it really doesn't work on its own. You need the movie to understand the character's doubts when he goes after the child in red - and at that point (if you've been invested enough in the narrative), the film forces you into an empathetic response.

 

[Jevo]

Tetro (2009) dir. Francis Ford Coppola

Bennie (Alden Ehrenreich) is an 18 year old kid who has runaway from home and works for a cruise liner. When his ship is in port at Buenos Aires with a broken engine, he decides to visit his estranged brother Anthony (Vincent Gallo), going by Tetro now, who left the family many years ago to pursue his writing, with a note to Bennie that he would come get him. Tetro is not exactly thrilled to have the kid staying with him, but eventually starts to warm to him as the days go by. When Bennie finds the disjointed draft of a near finished autobiographical play Tetro has writing for years about his relationship to his father, Bennie gets the idea to write an ending to the play, give them both closure on their strained relationship with their demanding father, a famous conductor. But this only makes tensions fly even higher between the two.

At first I thought Tetro took place at an ambiguous place in time. It's not really defined by technology, people seem to write letters still, and neither Tetro nor Bennie seems to own a mobile phone, or at least use one. But later on we see Bennie writing on a contemporary laptop. So perhaps it is Tetro who lives in an ambiguous place in time. I am not exactly sure how long it was that Tetro distanced himself from his family, but it has been many years. We see that he has struggled mentally a lot in those years, and perhaps he has decided not to move along with technology. Perhaps with less technology there's less chance of him getting in contact with his family.

Both Bennie and Tetro have troubled relationships with their father, who is very demanding and sent them away to military school as kids. However you get the sense that Bennie doesn't really know why he's angry at his father. His is angry at him partially because Tetro is. Eventhough Bennie hardly knows Tetro and was quite young when Tetro left. But it seems Bennie still idolised Tetro, or what he thought Tetro was, since he felt he had someone with similar feelings regarding his father, and that fuelled Bennie's antagonism towards his father. And by going to Tetro, Bennie most of all probably wishes to find out why he's angry at his father, that's also why he peruses Tetro's writings so intimately. He's not just looking to find out why Tetro left, but he's also looking to understand his feelings. This of course makes Bennie quite conflicted when we get to the twist, and it's revealed that Tetro is actually Bennie's father. And the reason Tetro left is not just because he had a strained relationship with his father, but because he killed Bennie's mother in an automobile accident. And his writings is not about trying to understand his relationship with his father. But it's about trying to understand his relationship to Bennie, and seeking some way to come to terms with his actions and his guilt.

A big highlight in Tetro is the beautiful black and white cinematography. It looks amazing. It's also an interesting choice to have the 'present' in black/white and the flashbacks in colour. Perhaps a reference to Tetro who now has whittled away, unlike before his isolation where he was still living so to speak.

Alden Ehrenreich isn't a name that usually excites my in any way if I see it on a poster, but I was pleasantly surprised by his performance here. His chemistry with Vincent Gallo is great, and he keeps up with Gallo all the way. The two together is very nice to watch throughout the film.

The narrative in Tetro isn't the strongest, and seems to ebb and flow throughout, never really being consistently interesting. But the cinematography is worth the price of admission alone together with Gallo and Ehrenreich. The family dynamics and the emotional core in this is what really makes the movie for me. The sorta triangle between Bennie, Tetro and their mostly unseen father is very interesting to follow I think.

 

[Spring in Fialta]

I'm flying back home on saturday. Will do my review then.

 

[kihei]

Tetro (1998) Directed by Francis Ford Coppola

Unless there is some autobiographical connection, I have trouble understanding why Francis Ford Coppola was interested in this project. Tetro, with so much of its action coming in confined spaces, struck me as play-like, and I could see it as a theatre piece real easy. The story--estranged brothers come to grips with their feelings about each other and a lot of other things, too, with a twist at the end--seemed nothing particularly special, though perhaps it could have if I had managed to get over my Vincent Gallo hangup which I didn't. For me Gallo has a sort of negative charisma in that although he has the ability to suck all the oxygen out of a room, which can be fun to watch, in the process he almost always creates a persona that I find repellent in the extreme. In short, he makes my skin crawl. As is true with all Coppola movies, both father and daughter, the cinematography is enough to keep me watching even when I have largely tuned out of the melodrama taking place before me. And FFC is one of those directors who are always interesting to watch work even when the material seems spotty as it does here.

It is always a little uncomfortable disagreeing with someone whose opinion I respect and with whom I am usually in near complete agreement. Amerika mentioned that Tetro is one of his favourite films, and now I am very curious to find out why he values Tetro so highly. I guess this is what makes horse races fun to bet on--one horse can generate no end of different opinions.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

Tetro
Coppola (2009)
“I don’t want anyone to save me.”

Bright-eyed, beaming Bennie disembarks from a ship into the Buenos Aries night. He is searching for the apartment of Angelo, the brother he barely knows who fled his family years before. Angelo, now going Tetro, is not enthusiastic about this development. His girlfriend, Miranda, is far more welcoming. Tetro is a terse and touchy fellow. Once a talent and aspiring writer, he just seems to exist now, content with a cup of coffee at the neighborhood cafe and working the lights for the theatre. It’s a simple life that Bennie now complicates. There’s an ulterior motive. Bennie has questions about his family. Their father is a great conductor, The Great Man. A domineering presence. Tetro has answers, but they’re stashed in his abandoned stories, stowed above an armoire in an old suitcase. Miranda and Bennie both see an opportunity to light a fire under Tetro. He’s reluctant though to say the least. Accidents happen. Betrayals of a well-intentioned sort. And in the end, the scheming works. Bennie surreptitiously finishes and releases Tetro’s play to acclaim. Tetro softens, realizing he truly doesn’t need the world’s affirmation. He reveals the secrets: He’s actually Bennie’s father and he killed Bennie's mother.

My recap sucks. It's unbalanced but I can't figure out exactly how to right it. I'm hitting some of the points, but not really making anything of it.

Coppola is a fascinating filmmaker. He’s the man behind some of the greatest American movies ever. He also made Jack. In between those poles are some middling efforts and a few surprisingly solid curiosities. Tetro is definitely among those. After a decade away from film, making wine I suppose, he returned with a trio of smaller films that are clear throwbacks to his early days and intentions. Personal, small, full control. Tetro’s right in the middle there. It’s a throwback in that business sense. But the on film result is the product of age, maturity.

It’s very classic and European to me. A simple family story interspersed with operatics. The cinematography is beautiful and rich. Bright, sharp white streetlights. Dark shadows. The flashbacks are reframed and in somewhat garish color. It’s effective. Some of the odd CGI not so much. Some are shot so tight to Gallo’s head (or his youthful version) that it’s practically POV. But the shifts worked for me. At some point you see where the story’s going but that predictability didn’t diminish the revelations any.

It’s a great performance by Gallo, an actor I have a pretty inconsistent record with. Volatile and vulnerable. He’s a real, raging a-hole, but the hurt isn’t deep below the surface. If there’s a nit to pick, it’s sometimes hard to see why anyone would be charmed by Tetro given his short fuse, but greatness has an aura I suppose and that’s not too far from Tetro’s surface either.

 

[Spring in Fialta]

Tetro (1998) Directed by Francis Ford Coppola

Unless there is some autobiographical connection, I have trouble understanding why Francis Ford Coppola was interested in this project. Tetro, with so much of its action coming in confined spaces, struck me as play-like, and I could see it as a theatre piece real easy. The story--estranged brothers come to grips with their feelings about each other and a lot of other things, too, with a twist at the end--seemed nothing particularly special, though perhaps it could have if I had managed to get over my Vincent Gallo hangup which I didn't. For me Gallo has a sort of negative charisma in that although he has the ability to suck all the oxygen out of a room, which can be fun to watch, in the process he almost always creates a persona that I find repellent in the extreme. In short, he makes my skin crawl. As is true with all Coppola movies, both father and daughter, the cinematography is enough to keep me watching even when I have largely tuned out of the melodrama taking place before me. And FFC is one of those directors who are always interesting to watch work even when the material seems spotty as it does here.

It is always a little uncomfortable disagreeing with someone whose opinion I respect and with whom I am usually in near complete agreement. Amerika mentioned that Tetro is one of his favourite films, and now I am very curious to find out why he values Tetro so highly. I guess this is what makes horse races fun to bet on--one horse can generate no end of different opinions.

I think you might be confusing Tetro for Buffalo'66, a Gallo effort that is certainly one of my favorite films and which you loathed. Tetro is not.

 

[kihei]

I think you might be confusing Tetro for Buffalo'66, a Gallo effort that is certainly one of my favorite films and which you loathed. Tetro is not.

I'll bet I did. Apologies.

 

[Ralph Spoilsport]

One brother is trying to unravel a mystery while another brother is trying to keep a secret deep and buried--something's gotta give. That's Tetro, a story of sibling rivalry shifting into a father complex, a dysfunctional family drama.

It's a little hard to not compare Tetro with Coppola's most famous work, The Godfather. They share much in common thematically and as far as I know it’s a return to the subject matter--the dynamics within a family dominated by a strong patriarch--that Francis Ford Coppola had seemed to be avoiding ever since The Godfather, as though he didn't want to duplicate his greatest success. He doesn't of course; still, Tetro holds up on its own though, mainly because it's more intimate than epic: condensing a multi-generational family saga down to a short time period where two estranged brothers reunite and the entire family history is rehashed and resolved. (Things happen quickly in Tetro: an award-winning play is written, rehearsed and staged in what seems to be just a few days.)

Hands up all those who were more interested in Bennie's story! How can you not be--he's a fresh-faced clean cut kid, cute and innocent as a puppy, whereas older brother Angelo is a mangy mutt by comparison who's been kicked around too much, sullen and self-pitying. Appropriately he's the spotlight operator, standing behind the light and always shining it on others, anywhere but away from himself. But they share the same story and are two sides of the same coin. "I don't like questions" Bennie says in a brooding tone meant to mock his older brother. "Hey, don't do me" Angelo replies. "I'll do me! You just be yourself." Bennie's not quite sure who he is though, that's part of the puzzle he's trying to piece together.

The characters contrast like the sumptuous black and white cinematography, though interestingly the flashback scenes which tell the background of the family story are in colour. These memories, usually of the traumatic moments in life, are more "real" to the characters--in shaping their identity--than the usual events of their daily lives. In the black and white world they can either accept or reject the truth hidden in their pasts, truth which can be threatening and destructive as oncoming headlights or pure and sublime as sunlight reflecting off the glaciers.

 

[Newsworthy]

The original Invasion of the Body Snatchers is a classic. SCI FI horror at it's best and one great film.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

Dropping this a little early because I'll be traveling a few days (and have a horror movie marathon) and likely wouldn't get to post until early next week ...

The Thing
Carpenter (1982)
“Nobody trusts anybody now. We’re all very tired.”

A group of scientists and roughnecks stationed in the Arctic grapple with an alien presence capable of blending in among them, almost human. Can anyone be trusted?
Sound familiar?

Felt this was a good follow to our recent discourse on Invasion of the Body Snatchers. That was a 50s original, based on a novel, that since has been adapted a few times. This is a remake of a 50s flick, based on a short story, that would again be revisited down the line (a clear remake disguised as a “prequel.”) The original — the Howard Hawks’ directed The Thing from Another World — is actually pretty good! But John Carpenter’s remake has so much more technical toys available to make it far more effective. Once again though we have a story of an alien presence masking itself as human, taking over unbeknownst to us. Fertile stuff.

There’s a good, layered mystery here that builds patiently from the initial dog hunt to the exploration of the Norwegian’s camp — the frozen stalactites of blood make quite the impression. Then it settles into its Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None by way of Clark Ashton Smith vibe. It’s effectively a locked room murder mystery with a killer (or killers!) on the loose. There are power outages, red herring clues, missing keys. All the tricks. We’re just at an Arctic research station instead of a Victorian mansion and our Poirot is a gruff, bearded pilot.

It packs a couple wallops for scares too — the Norris monster revelation and Palmer’s blood test work every time. The blood test scene (which comes way later in the film than I remember) is the real gem to me. Killer sequence. For all the top-notch calibration of the unfolding story, the special effects are every bit the start as well. Rob Bottin’s memorably gory, horrific creations.

You got a great cast of faces here. Kurt Russell is the star, but he’s surrounded with a memorable menagerie of dudes and I do mean dudes in the classic sense, the best of which to me is Wilford Brimley’s Blair. It’s not unlike Alien in the sense that though there are a couple of scientists here, everyone needs a shave and has dirt under their fingernails. These are gruff, tough hombres prone to mistrust and in no mood for bullshit (well except maybe Nauls, what happens to him anyway?)

Carpenter is one of my absolute favorite directors. He’s a craftsman of crackerjack bits of entertainment. That may sound like faint praise, but I don’t intend it to be. It’s a high compliment. He may not have a cabinet full of Oscars (though he does actually have one for short film), but he’s got an enviable resume of horror/scifi successes ranging from stone cold classics (this, Halloween) to beloved cult fare (Escape from New York, Big Trouble in Little China, They Live). For me, The Thing is him at his absolute pinnacle. Maybe not as innovative or clever as some of his other films, but definitely his tightest and most dialed-in.

Sometimes I just want to inhale a giant bucket of popcorn, you know?

 

[Spring in Fialta]

Tetro (2009) - A worthy entry in FFC's bounce back from his mid-career commercialism. Following the story of Benny and Tetro, two brothers of Argentinian descent who live in generational shadows. Tetro, a talented aspiring writing and potential genius cannot transcend his musician father, who he has not seen in many, many years. Benny, abandoned by his older brother Tetro, is unable to move past the memory of his brother, who was - and is - his hero. What ensues is a story of redemption, even if Tetro has to be dragged kicking and screaming. On the technical level, the film is just about perfect. I didn't notice a flaw in its editing or in its sultry cinematography. Even the wardrobes are perfect. The juxtaposition of black and white and vivid colours are a constant treat without FFC being overly reliant on their effectiveness and while I found all of the hypothesis interesting in regard to its meaning, I'd be interesting in knowing if FFC had a narrative reason for using the technique. At any rate, I think it's fairly obvious that the story is a Coppola family story, as insinuated by FFC's '' None of it happened, but all of it is true. '' The acting is mostly great, carried by fantastic performances by Vincent Gallo, who I believe is one of the greatest screen presence in American film when in fine form (which he is here) and Maribel Verdu. The supporting cast is very amusing as well. The only one who loses steam is Ehrenreich. He was very good in the beginning when the role required a more confused angst but he falls apart when the denouement is settled and it becomes his turn to shine, as opposed to Vincent Gallo's Tetro. By that point, his performance became phony and heavy-handed, a little bit in how DiCaprio used to play it when younger, but somehow worse and a more subdued. I just couldn't buy it. With that said, it's about the same point where Coppola's writing completely falls apart as well. Whereas the movie started superbly, whether in its narrative construct or in its dialogue or in the character's mannerisms (A kiss from Miranda!). But following the movie's acceptance into the Patagonia festival, the entire operation becomes forced and melodramatic in shameful ways. I started to lose interest at that point and it cratered part of the experience for me because the denouement feels so removed from what preceded it instead of flowing naturally into itself. That's a tough thing to overcome for a 2 hour movie. But a very fine film for about the first 75% and the visual style never lets up, which always makes a film worth watching, at least to me. Even if Coppola may have somewhat missed on what he wanted to say, how he tried to say it left a positive impression on me.

 

[Spring in Fialta]

Having happily found a source to watch the film is pristine quality, my next pick is Robert Bresson's Au hasard Balthazar.

 

[Jevo]

The Thing (1982) dir. John Carpenter

A sled dog appears at an American antarctic research station, it's followed by a Norwegian helicopter trying to kill it. When the helicopter lands the frantic pilot tries to shoot the dog, yelling that is is no dog, it's a "Thing" in Norwegian, but he gets killed by the confused Americans before he manages to kill the dog. The Americans put the dog in the pound and sends a team to the Norwegian camp to investigate what has happened. They find no one at the Norwegian camp, but nearby the find an alien spaceship buried in the ice, which the Norwegians have dug free. At the base they soon find out that the dog isn't really a dog, but an alien shape shifting monster. Paranoia spreads. Who's a monster wearing the skin of their now dead comrade, and who's still alive? It becomes a battle among themselves as much as it becomes a battle against the monster.

The Thing is perhaps my all time favourite horror film. I adore the setting. Overwintering in a remote antarctic base with little or no contact with the outside world is almost a downright scary thought for me on it's own. It's about as isolated as you can be on Mother Earth. Going outside isn't an option either, because nature itself is at its most hostile. It's comparable to the spaceship in Alien in terms of being isolated an unable to escape. But The Thing just does it more for me. Perhaps because the setting is more "real". I also like that for the most part, the characters are making sound decisions. Not all decisions are equally good. But with the effects of uncertainty and paranoia in mind they are mostly behaving somewhat rationally. There's no really dumb decisions which brings the characters in a bad situation. Like in Alien where just about every protocol of the ship is broken in order to get the alien onto the ship, and then Sigourney Weaver has to fix the mess the men have made. I haven't watched Alien in a decade, but when I did I still remember being so annoyed during the first half of the film, because it felt like the characters were careless dumb mistake, after careless dumb mistake. The characters of the The Thing don't really do that, and I really like that, because it really took me out of Alien. They are perhaps a bit nonchalant about the dog after they killed the Norwegian, but they didn't understand him, and for any rational person he looked to be mad. There's however one thing I'm not really sure I get. At the end they realise they need to kill themselves to stop the thing from spreading all over the globe. However the thing can survive in a frozen state, but will die to fire. So they pretty much bomb and burn the whole station before the freeze to death. But why would the thing be hiding in the station if it's just looking to go into hibernation? Of course there's a bigger chance of being found in the station than in the middle of the antarctic, it took several thousand years the first time. But it's also the only place the humans can harm it. Maybe I'm doing myself a disservice by over thinking this., but it just struck me during the end of the film.

John Carpenter and Kurt Russell are a great match. One of the greatest B-movie directors of all time and a man made to play B-movie lead roles. This is perhaps their best collaboration. I really like Kurt Russell as MacReady here. He's the lead role, but whether he's the hero is arguable. He's pretty much only looking out for his own life, and he's quite aggressive about it. The extent to which he looks after his crew mates is because he knows the more humans alive the better. But he's not about to take a bullet for anyone. But his approach is probably the best suited for your individual survival in a situation like this.

It's interesting that this movie comes up so shortly after Invasion of The Body Snatchers. Because when broken down they are quite similar. Both movies are about living in a situation where people around you may or may not be themselves, or a perfect copy with all their memories and everything. And it's impossible to tell who's who. Now it's up to you to try and stop the spread of this to the rest of the world. If you go beyond that they are very different. But if you have to break them down thematically, they will end up looking quite similar.

 

[Jevo]

Having happily found a source to watch the film is pristine quality, my next pick is Robert Bresson's Au hasard Balthazar.

I am looking forward to this. Haven't seen it in many years, and I've been needing a good excuse to revisit it.

 

[Ralph Spoilsport]

A group of American scientists is stationed at an Antarctic research base, but they're not nerdy brainiacs in lab coats with important work to do. Instead they spend their time boozing it up, smoking weed, playing pool, video games and cards. They're more like Pinnochio and his pals on Pleasure Island, but instead of becoming donkeys they turn into this...this thing.

What's the subtext in The Thing? It's mainly about male unbonding, how paranoia can tear a team of men apart. But who can blame them? Unlike, say, The Treasure Of The Sierra Madre, where greed is at the root of the paranoia that causes the prospectors' partnership to unravel, this is not a situation that a rational, level-headed man might have handled by staying calm. The thing--the monster/alien or whatever it is--is a worst nightmare, can change shape and appearance, can't be killed, where's it's weak spot? Flamethrowers might kill part of it, but by then it's morphed into the guy standing next to you. It's man vs complete chaos: try to revive a colleague who's had a heart attack and his chest suddenly transforms into a giant set of jaws with sharp fangs to bite your arms off. Who sees this coming? Anything goes with The Thing. No wonder the situation soon becomes every man for himself (or itself), there's nowhere else to go. Fortunately there's a discount Jesus ready to sacrifice himself to save humanity, though he won't mind taking everybody else down with him.

The Thing ends on an unresolved note, you can interpret it in several ways. Might seem like a cop-out to some, but I liked the way it ended. Like waking up from a bad nightmare: relief that it's over, but still left with a sense of dread.

 

[Newsworthy]

The Thing (1982) dir. John Carpenter

A sled dog appears at an American antarctic research station, it's followed by a Norwegian helicopter trying to kill it. When the helicopter lands the frantic pilot tries to shoot the dog, yelling that is is no dog, it's a "Thing" in Norwegian, but he gets killed by the confused Americans before he manages to kill the dog. The Americans put the dog in the pound and sends a team to the Norwegian camp to investigate what has happened. They find no one at the Norwegian camp, but nearby the find an alien spaceship buried in the ice, which the Norwegians have dug free. At the base they soon find out that the dog isn't really a dog, but an alien shape shifting monster. Paranoia spreads. Who's a monster wearing the skin of their now dead comrade, and who's still alive? It becomes a battle among themselves as much as it becomes a battle against the monster.

The Thing is perhaps my all time favourite horror film. I adore the setting. Overwintering in a remote antarctic base with little or no contact with the outside world is almost a downright scary thought for me on it's own. It's about as isolated as you can be on Mother Earth. Going outside isn't an option either, because nature itself is at its most hostile. It's comparable to the spaceship in Alien in terms of being isolated an unable to escape. But The Thing just does it more for me. Perhaps because the setting is more "real". I also like that for the most part, the characters are making sound decisions. Not all decisions are equally good. But with the effects of uncertainty and paranoia in mind they are mostly behaving somewhat rationally. There's no really dumb decisions which brings the characters in a bad situation. Like in Alien where just about every protocol of the ship is broken in order to get the alien onto the ship, and then Sigourney Weaver has to fix the mess the men have made. I haven't watched Alien in a decade, but when I did I still remember being so annoyed during the first half of the film, because it felt like the characters were careless dumb mistake, after careless dumb mistake. The characters of the The Thing don't really do that, and I really like that, because it really took me out of Alien. They are perhaps a bit nonchalant about the dog after they killed the Norwegian, but they didn't understand him, and for any rational person he looked to be mad. There's however one thing I'm not really sure I get. At the end they realise they need to kill themselves to stop the thing from spreading all over the globe. However the thing can survive in a frozen state, but will die to fire. So they pretty much bomb and burn the whole station before the freeze to death. But why would the thing be hiding in the station if it's just looking to go into hibernation? Of course there's a bigger chance of being found in the station than in the middle of the antarctic, it took several thousand years the first time. But it's also the only place the humans can harm it. Maybe I'm doing myself a disservice by over thinking this., but it just struck me during the end of the film.

John Carpenter and Kurt Russell are a great match. One of the greatest B-movie directors of all time and a man made to play B-movie lead roles. This is perhaps their best collaboration. I really like Kurt Russell as MacReady here. He's the lead role, but whether he's the hero is arguable. He's pretty much only looking out for his own life, and he's quite aggressive about it. The extent to which he looks after his crew mates is because he knows the more humans alive the better. But he's not about to take a bullet for anyone. But his approach is probably the best suited for your individual survival in a situation like this.

It's interesting that this movie comes up so shortly after Invasion of The Body Snatchers. Because when broken down they are quite similar. Both movies are about living in a situation where people around you may or may not be themselves, or a perfect copy with all their memories and everything. And it's impossible to tell who's who. Now it's up to you to try and stop the spread of this to the rest of the world. If you go beyond that they are very different. But if you have to break them down thematically, they will end up looking quite similar.

Amazing film. The remake was also pretty damn good.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

Re: Tetro.

My travels last week were to California wine country. One of our stops was Inglenook, which is Coppola's high-end brand and vineyard. His house is right behind winery. Pretty cool to see. Lots of memorabilia in the space too including a hand-written casting sheet for Godfather (Peter Falk as Moe Green?) and an actual Tucker car (one of 48 in the world). No Tetro stuff specifically but a big display dedicated to his father and his symphonic work. Lots of antique magic lanterns and zoetropes (of course). He also owns first editions of The Third Man, Ulysses and Leaves of Grass, which is pretty wild.