Will Pfeifer's Blog, page 13

Movies I Watched in November

The tree is decorated, the ground is covered in snow and Christmas is just about a week away. Guess I might as well peer back through the mists of time and reveal what I watching way back in November...


I watched this one a few days before the presidential election, back when the sun was shining and the birds were singing and it seemed like democracy might have a shot after all. Oh well. Though I owned it on a Something Weird Double-Feature DVD I’d had for years, I never actually popped it into the player. (I have a LOT of unwatched DVDs, believe me.) But after reading this intriguing review  (written by Matthew Wilder)over at David Cairns' excellent Shadowplay blog, I decided to check it out. Herschell Gordon Lewis is revered for his goofy gore movies, like “Blood Feast” and “Two-Thousand Maniacs,” but this sharp political satire reveals a different side of the director. “The Year of the Yahoo” illustrates the rise and fall of Hank Jackson (Claude King), an amiable country singer given cynical guidance by some political pros. Though Hank seems like a decent enough meat-and-potatoes type of guy, he’s perfectly willing to crank up the racism and anger to win the senate race. It’s a grim, serious movie with just a few of Lewis’ patented exploitation elements – a fight scene or two, a bit of sex – and it focuses more on the dark reality of American politics than any sort of flag-waving nonsense. The best scene, in fact, feels like it’s going to be a rousing celebration of the voice of the voters, but when a crowd rushes the stage to celebrate Hank’s campaign announcement, his handlers stop them and demand another, better take. Turns out, it was all fake all along. “The Year of the Yahoo” is cheap and cheap-looking, like all Lewis’ movies, but at its heart, it’s surprisingly good.


Re-watched this poolroom classic for our Out of Theaters podcast. Read what I wrote -- and listen to the entire episode -- at this link . Here's a sample from my intro:

Released in 1961, “The Hustler” was issued under the watchful eye of the Motion Picture Production Code, so any mature material had to be careful hidden. But the movie feels adult in a way that few movies from that era can match. The characters seem like grown-ups, their lives seem lived-in and their problems aren’t something that will be solved when the end credits roll.


Not spectacular by any means, but not bad either. In other words, your basic, middle-of-the-road Marvel film. Cumberbatch, as expected, was just about perfect casting for the super-intelligent, super-arrogant (at least at first) Dr. Strange, but I sort of wish they’d let him keep his English accent – it just feels more natural that way, and what? There aren’t any surgeons of British descent operating (ha ha) in Marvel’s version of Manhattan? My favorite parts of the movie were the bits I haven’t seen done before – and I’m not talking about the very Inception-esque chase through a folding city. I’m talking about the battle at the end, where Strange was spinning time backwards and the fight was continuing through the time-shift, with combatants getting caught in buildings as they re-assembled themselves. Now that -- that was something different. I also enjoyed the fact that the final confrontation didn’t rely on brute strength or an army of faceless warriors. Instead, it relied on our hero being clever, and it was both funny and rousing to see him keep coming back from doom again and again and again. Plus, it all tied into the movie’s main theme, where a hero whose motivation was his fear of failure had to be willing to fail – possibly for all eternity – to save the day. Now that’s a nice twist.


I really, really like this movie. It’s become one of those films that, if I stumble across it while it’s playing on HBO (and plays on HBO a lot), I’ll end up watching as much as I can. On this particular day, I had a few hours of free time, so I wound up watching the whole thing. (Minus, that is, the opening minute or so, which I went back and rewatched online the next day so I could obey my own obsessive rules and include it in this recap. You're welcome.) “The Martian” is funny, suspenseful, smart and genuinely touching. (I love the scene where Matt Damon, realizing he’s finally going home, starts crying on the Launchpad.) I don’t know if it’s a great movie, but I do know that they don’t make enough movies like it.

So many movies – especially science fiction movies – are dumb excuses for explosions and laser blasts, that when a good one comes along, I'm just grateful that someone, somewhere finally decided to make something smart. And, in this case, that’s “Arrival,” a science fiction movie that (a) presents serious, intriguing ideas, (b) doesn’t dumb things down, and (c) manages against all odds to combine intelligence with some big emotions that took me completely by surprise. I don’t want to spoil anything, so I’ll just say that the movie involves a dozen spaceships arriving at various spots on Earth and stars Amy Adams as a linguist recruited by the government to figure out what the heck they want. It’s slow and methodical (like “2001,” which it strongly resembles at times), but it’s driven by a human element that brings everything together in genuinely unexpected ways. Adams is excellent, essentially carrying the movie on her shoulders, and Jeremy Renner offers solid support in a nicely low-key performance. What’s more, the aliens are genuinely alien, with bodies that look like nothing on Earth and a language that seems indecipherable. The twist is that unlocking their language unlocks something else in Adams, and that’s where the movie went from “very good” to “great” in my book. Check it out by all means, but go in knowing as little as possible. One of the best of the year, by far.

The Best Science Fiction Movies of the 21st Century, So Far...

Inspired by seeing The Arrival the day before Thanksgiving, here's my list of the best science fiction films the 21st century has delivered so far, off the top of my head, in alphabetical order.


Arrival

Children of Men

Edge of Tomorrow

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Ex Machina

Inception

Looper

The Martian

Under the Skin

The World's End
Runners up: Guardians of the Galaxy, Moon, Primer, Minority Report, District 9, Attack the Block, Snowpiercer, Mad Mad: Fury Road, Vanilla Sky, A Scanner Darkly, Dredd

Movies I Watched in October, Part 3 (Finally!)

Thanksgiving is over, and Halloween is a distant memory, so it seems like a good time to complete this never-ending recap of whatever the hell it was I watched way back in the still-promising days of October 2016. Here we go...


Not a bad little comedy from Christopher Guest, but nothing that approaches the greatness of "Waiting for Guffman" or "Best in Show," either. That's unfortunate, because its promising premise combines elements of both movies -- a diverse group of people (in this case, professional sports mascots) brought together to a single location to perform. Trouble is, "Mascots" just never goes quite as far as you get the sense it could, and while it's consistently amusing, it's almost never laugh-out-loud funny. I didn't feel like I was short-changed watching it on Netflix, but if I had paid money to see this in the theater, I would've been disappointed. "Mascots" feels more like a TV special (which I guess it is) than an actual movie. Maybe he should've gone all out and focused on furry culture instead. At least that would have been more memorable.


If you're the sort of person who thinks the acting, writing and production values in Rudy Ray Moore movies are a little too good, "Supersoul Brother" is the film for you. It's quite possibly the cheapest blaxploitation movie ever made  -- and, even at its best, blaxploitation was not a genre known for its extravagance. This film, made in Miami in 1978, was a showcase for a comedian named "Wildman Steve" Gallon who plays the title character, also named "Steve." He's a local wino who is injected with a mysterious serum by a short-statured scientist with the completely believable name of "Dr. Dippy." It's all part of a needlessly complex plot to have a super-powered patsy who can rob a safe from a jewelry store, but 99 percent of the movie's mercifully short running time is devoted to our hero acting incredulous at every single thing that happens to him, spiced with bits of low-rent nudity and bargain basement fight scenes. If you're a trash film fan (like yours truly), you might find it fascinating in a bizarre way, but at no point does this movie come within a thousand miles of being "good." Also, it was originally released as, ahem, "The Six Thousand Dollar N----r," except the decorum of those dashes was replaced by the actual letters. Ah, the 1970s. What a magical time.


Thankfully, I was able to end the month with a movie that was (a) fitting for the Halloween season and (b) actually good. "Bedlam" is one of the handful of movies that Val Lewton made for RKO in the 1940s, and though it never reaches the sheer weird brilliance of "Cat People" or "The Seventh Victim," it's still damned good. Boris Karloff stars as Master George Sims, head of the notorious St. Mary's of Bethlehem Asylum (aka Bedlam). He's more than happy to abuse his patients for either his own sick amusement or to curry the favor of the rich, and though Nell Bowen (Anna Lee) is originally one of those rich jerks, she eventually fights for the inmates ... until she becomes one herself. Like all Lewton's films, it combines a smart script, offbeat characters and genuine heart with beautiful filmmaking and more than a few imaginative touches. (One of the inmates predicts the rise of moviemaking -- back in the late 18th century.) "Bedlam" is available as part of the excellent Lewton DVD set Warner Bros. released about a decade ago, and it airs every so often on TCM. Check it out next time it does -- it packs more entertainment into 79 minutes than most other movies ever made.

Collecting autographs, 30 years ago

Way back in 1986, at the tender age of 18, I went to my first comic book convention with some friends from college. We drove to Chicago, at city I'd never visited, and spent a whirlwind weekend at the Ramada Inn in Rosemont, a city I discovered was not, in fact, actually part of Chicago. Comics were a different beast back then, but 1986 was arguably the most exciting year they'd enjoyed up to that point. Watchmen and Dark Knight both debuted, Frank Miller and  David Mazzucchelli were coming off their Daredevil: Born Again run and gearing up for their Batman: Year One run, and comics like Love and Rockets, Nexus, Reid Fleming and Time2 were on the stands. Oh, and apparently Marvel was celebrating its 25th anniversary, which is what the Chicago Comicon chose to commemorate on its program cover. I guess no one could've guessed the seismic shift comics like Watchmen and Dark Knight would bring, so that was a safe pick (plus, Stan Lee was the guest of honor), but even so, it feels a bit off ...


Anyway, it's not the cover of this program I'm focusing on today, it's the inside back cover. Like I said, this was my first-ever comic book convention, and I could barely grasp the concept that I could actually meet and converse with the artists and writers who created my favorite books. So, fanboy in bondage that I was, I collected autographs. Check out who I got...


From top to bottom, that's Phil Foglio, Steve Rude (the little SR in the corner), Dick Giordano, Mike Baron, Mark Badger, Jerry Ordway, George Perez, Bill Sienkiewicz, Steve Bissette, Eric Shanower, George Perez (again, for some reason), John Totleben, Julie Schwarz, Marv Wolfman, Denis Kitchen, Howard Chaykin, Martin Nodell and, running down the left side, Mike Zeck. Not a bad sampling of mid-80s era talent. I was most excited to meet Chaykin, who created American Flagg, one of my favorite comic books of all time (still is, in fact), and I got a sketch of Mandy Krieger from him for a mere $15 (see it here).

Bissette and Totleben were, I believe, still working on Swamp Thing, and it was a pleasure to meet them both. The next year when I went to the Chicago Comicon, I somehow wound up sitting at a table with Totleben and his wife for hours in the hotel bar, and he was one of the nicest guys I've ever encountered at a show. Hell, everyone on that page was nice, though George Perez got a little annoyed with my friend and I when he realized we were taking free badges from the DC table every single time we passed it. As I recall, we went home with about 200 badges.

Ah, memories!

Movies I Watched in October, Part 2

It's almost December, so here's the second part of the October movie recap:


This Guillermo del Toro movie didn’t get much love from critics or audiences, but I think that’s because they went in expecting a horror movie – and looking at that poster, it’s not hard to see why. Thing is, though, “Crimson Peak” isn’t a horror movie – it’s a Gothic romance, and I suppose you can forgive audiences for not understanding a genre that’s barely existed for 100 years. That’s a shame, though, because horror or not, “Crimson Peak” is a lot of fun, full of over-the-top characters, lush locations and loads of deliberately unbelievable plot twists. The story revolves around a young author (Mia Wasikowska) who, following the mysterious death of her father, marries a disreputable young Brit (Tom Hiddleston) and moves to his decaying family estate where his creepy sister (Jessica Chastain) clearly resents her presence. That’s the set-up, and it all plays out in the family's amazing mansion, with holes in the roof to let the elements in and red clay (the source of the family’s fortune) seeping up through the ground, making the whole place look soaked in blood. Del Toro masterfully balances the set-up and release, building chills into the opening two-thirds and backloading the film with fast-paced shocks and jolts. The cast is game, the setting is unusual and the entire film is downright gorgeous. What more do you want in a movie?

“Freaks” isn’t a perfect film, but it’s those imperfections – packed into the corners of every frame – that make is a truly great, and completely singular film. The story, of course, revolves around the freaks in a traveling sideshow getting revenge on the “normals” who plot against one of their own, but that’s just the skeleton upon which Tod Browning hangs all his weirdness. There are oddball conversations you can just barely understand, a lot (and I mean a LOT) of strange sexual content lurking just under the surface and a generally weird vibe like no other horror movie film of the era (or any era, for that matter). If you’ve never seen it, by all means, check it out – it’s barely an hour long and I guarantee you won’t soon forget it.


Watched this for some reason, possibly because we were covering the original on our podcast (again, listen to that episode here ) or possibly because there was absolutely nothing else to do. It's rumored to be one of the better ones, partly because of the involvement of big names like Patricia Arquette (in her film debut) and Laurence Fishburne (back when he was calling himself "Larry"), but it's really not that good. Freddy by now has his annoying wisecracker persona that never fit comfortably with his backstory as a child murderer/molester, and lead actor Craig Wasson remains one of the least charismatic performers ever to grace the silver screen. There are a few imaginative moments and some admittedly striking over-the-top gore (the veins as marionette strings is tough to forget), but otherwise, it's another reminder that this series was always overrated.


Saw this one with Allie, and there's really not much to say considering I couldn't be further from the target audience. It was fine, I suppose, and every generation needs art reminding it that rebellion can be a good thing. Plus, Andy Daly is always funny, even in the bland, by-the-numbers role of the authoritarian principal. One thing that actually did impress and surprise me was a certain plot twist that felt like something out of the third act of "Fight Club." I didn't see it coming, and when it hit, it gave the movie an added (and much needed) emotional punch. If your kids want to watch this one when it hits home video, consider yourself lucky. You could do a lot worse.

Up next: The Final Chapter of the October recap, featuring Christopher Guest's latest, possibly the most obscure blaxploitation movie ever made and a Val Lewton classic. (No, not that one.)

Movies I Watched in October, Part 1

In the interest of writing about something besides the terrible events of last week, here's a meaningless recap of the movies I watched in the first half of October, when the sun was shining and everything seemed bright and cheery.


Watched this for the Out of Theaters podcast (listen here). It's not exactly a good movie, but as someone who caught it during his original run (or at least close to it -- I think I first encountered "Nightmare" on VHS at someone's house late one night), I will give it credit for being different. All those "Halloween" and "Friday the 13th" ripoffs are pretty amusing in retrospect, but they were dull in actuality. Just the addition of the dream reality in this movie (and it's many, many sequels) elevated them a bit. A bit.

I don't understand why this George Clooney suspense drama doesn't get more respect. It's smart as a whip, with writing and direction courtesy of Tony Gilroy, has an amazing cast (more on them in a bit) and inserts just enough imaginative touches (Clooney's car exploding as he encounters some horses, a strangely philosophical children's book) to kick it several notches above similar fare. And the cast -- Clooney delivers one of his best performances, Sidney Pollack and Michael O'Keefe contribute nicely sinister cameos, Tilda Swinton is amazing as a corporate shark who rehearses her speeches, bgi and small, in front of a mirror, alone and vulnerable. And best of all is Tom Wilkinson, playing a corporate lawyer who has either a nervous breakdown or a moral awakening, and bounces in and out of the movie like an avenging angel, trying to win Clooney to his side. It's the sort of movie you almost never see, and exactly the sort we should see a lot more of.

Here's a real oddity -- a 1980 scavenger hunt comedy from Disney that stars David Naughton (a year before "An American Werewolf in London"), Stephen Furst (two years after "Animal House,") and Michael J. Fox (in his film debut). It's not good by any means, but it is fascinating -- a slice of dimwitted hijinks shot on location all over Los Angeles. Keep an eye out for Paul Reubens as an arcade manager (back in the early days of videogames -- the controversial "Death Race" game can be spotting in the background) and Dirk Blocker in his film debut (looking shockingly similar to his 2016 self, visible these days on "Brooklyn 99.") The humor is sub-grade school level, with fat jokes a plenty (Furst's character makes Flounder look like King Lear), which is surprisingly because Disney apparently concealed its own involvement in an attempt to avoid the kiddie audience and aim straight for that lucrative teen market. Nice try, mouse.

Coming up next: A Gothic romance from Guillermo del Toro and a freaky oddity from the early 1930s.

What I'm Reading Now...

Here are a few books I'm plowing through at the moment. Not sure when I'll finish any or all of them off, but they're all pretty interesting as of now, so consider this a recommendation. If any of them really drop the ball on the one yard line, I'll alert you on Twitter. (By the way, if you're not already, how about following me on Twitter @willpfeifer?

I've been reading a lot about semi-modern Russia lately, and this is before Trump and Putin revealed themselves to be besties. This book combines my love of modern culture with my love of sleazy culture. So after reading how the folks in post-Soviet East Germany live ("Stasiland: Stories from Behind the Berlin Wall") and what modern media looks like in Russia ("Nothing is True and Everything is Possible: The Surreal Heart of the New Russia"), I want to see how trash culture responds to that sort of social and political change. Judging by what I've read so far, it's exactly what you'd expect: it's gone whatever the Russian word for "bananas" is.


Here's the thing: I'm not even a wrestling fan, not really. Aside from the early 1980s, when Hulk Hogan was ascendant and everyone was watching wrestling, and a brief flirtation with the sport in the mid 1990s, when the Rock and company were ushering in a new wave of popularity, I've hardly ever watched pro wrestling at all. But, oddly enough, I love reading about it. My absolute favorite book of the past few years is "The Squared Circle: Life, Death and Professional Wrestling," David Shoemaker's history of the sport. I thought it was a fascinating portrait of pop culture (there's that phrase again, sex, race, success, failure, birth, death and America as I've ever read, even though I never watched much of the action described within. On a similar (though less academic level, I've been loving the two collections of the zine The Atomic Elbow that I stumbled upon recently. Each little squarebound book collects four issues (though issues one through four apparently remain uncollected at this point), and feature articles, reviews, essays and cartoons from various contributors. My favorite pieces, though, are the insanely, obsessively detailed recaps of obscure wrestling events by editor Robert Newsome. Trust me, his 30-page report on the 1991 UWF Beach Brawl of Palmetto, Florida is worth the price of admission all by itself. (Order copies of Atomic Elbow here.)


One of the cartoonists interviewed in The Atomic Elbow is Box Brown, who wrote an acclaimed graphic biography of wrestling legend Andre the Giant a couple of years ago. His new book just hit the stores, and though I'm just a few pages in, so far it's even better than his Andre book. "Tetris: The Games People Play" is, of course, a look at the origins and popularity of the video game Tetris, but it's a lot more than that, too. So far, it's a wide-ranging discussion of the very concept of games themselves, from their possible origins in prehistoric days as both entertainment and competition, to their development in the ancient world as ways to exercise the mind and develop areas of the brain necessary for higher civilization to develop. It's not all ancient history, of course -- the book, as I'm reading, just made a giant leap to the 20th century and the arrival of Donkey Kong -- but it's nice to have a videogame book take the long view.

Movies I Watched in September, Part 2

Okay, let's make this quick. Two movies I watched (and wrote about) for our Out of Theaters Podcast, and one movie that turned out to be quite possibly THE BLEAKEST MOVIE I'VE EVER SEEN. And so, without further ado...


Great, great movie. One of my all-time favorites. Here's a bit of what I wrote about it for our Out of Theaters podcast episode:

But though nominated for Best Picture, it lost to “Rocky” (along with, believe it or not, “Taxi Driver” and “All the President’s Men”). But while “Rocky” was, and is, a perfectly fine little movie, “Network” is a movie that’s both a landmark of its time while being years ahead of it. It’s a comedy, a drama, a satire, a tragedy and a showcase of great acting. It also happens to be the greatest film about TV news ever made.

Read the rest (and listen to the episode) at this link.

Another all-time favorite, and another one I re-watched for Out of Theaters. Here's a bit of what I wrote...

And that’s the brilliance of Roman Polanski’s 1968 thriller. He takes what is, admittedly, a pretty ridiculous story about a coven of elderly Satan worshippers on New York’s Upper West Side and makes you think that it’s really happening. His method? He plants the film firmly in the real world, full of struggling actors and annoying neighbors and respected obstetricians. He mixes realism and fantasy so skillfully, in fact, that by the time the movie lurches toward its conclusion, you’ve completely bought into that ridiculous story and, odds are, you’re on the edge of your seat when Rosemary walks toward that black cradle, knife in hand.

Once again, you can read the rest (and listen to the brand-new episode) here .


And now, last but not least, a movie I'd heard about since I was a kid but never actually saw until a few weeks ago, when Turner Classic Movies, god bless 'em, aired it in the middle of the night. It's barely been on DVD and never on Blu-ray as far as I know, and even crappy old pan-and-scan VHS tapes go for a pretty penny these days. All I knew was (a) it starred Diane Keaton (b) involved a lot of weird sexual encounters and (c) ended very, very badly for poor Diane. All that turned out to be true (and is why TCM showed it in the middle of the night), but "Looking for Mr. Goodbar" was a more than that. A lot more. Released in 1977, the same year Keaton starred in "Annie Hall," "Goodbar" takes a much (much, MUCH) darker look at the dating scene. After being spurned by a college professor, Keaton's character leaves her repressive Catholic home and relocates to a seedy, roach-infested apartment that she proceeds to transform into a love nest (well, a sex nest, at least). She hooks up with a variety of creepy guys, with arguably the creepiest being a young Richard Gere, who's heavily into mind games and rough, spur-of-the-moment sex. Keaton loves it, or at least craves it, and the more dangerous and violent it gets, the more turned on she becomes. When she meets a nice social worker (William Atherton, famous for playing assholes in "Die Hard" and "Ghostbusters"), you suspect he's going to turn her around, but no, turns out he's got his demons, too. Eventually -- and here's where the SPOILERS come in -- Keaton meets Tom Berenger, a young guy deeply (and I mean deeply) conflicted about his own sexuality, and the violence lurking just under the surface finally takes center stage. It's a harrowing, disturbing film with arguably no happy characters at all, but  found it fascinating, both for Keaton's startling go-for-broke performance and the surreal touches director Richard Brooks sprinkles throughout. I can see why it's rarely shown -- it's a tough film to sit through -- and I could only imagine the poor couple who went to see this on a date. I'd be surprised if any relationships survived this cinematic ordeal. If it airs again on TCM, check it out -- but don't say I didn't warn you.

Movies I Watched in September, Part 1

I'd really like to make X-Ray Spex more than a blog where I recap my monthly movie intake, but until I find more time or less laziness, we'll stick with that content plan. Here's the latest...


Great, of course. One of the greatest movie comedies of all time, in fact. I'd seen it before and own the (highly recommended) Criterion DVD, but it was airing on TCM and I just fell right into that seductive, amusing Preston Sturges groove. Joel McCrea (at his best) plays a director who wants to move away from the lighter fare and direct a bold drama called "O Brother, Where Art Thou" (and yes, that's where the Coens got the name). After dressing up as a hobo and hitting the back streets of 1940s California, he meets a down-on-her-luck would-be actress (Veronica Lake, also great) and, after some slyly romantic misadventures, he finds himself in a very, very bad situation and learns a little lesson about the value of simple laughter. The script is brilliant, full of surprising twists and wonderful characters, and Sturges (who wrote and directed) knows just when to get serious -- the scenes of McCrea and Lake handing out money to the poor folks they met earlier are some of the best  parts of the movie, stark reminders of how the other half lives. If you've never seen this one, definitely check it out -- highest possible recommendation.


And speaking of the economic disparity, this stylish adaptation of J.G. Ballard's classic novel takes the split between rich and poor (well, rich and less rich) and uses it to fuel an apocalyptic battle for dominance of a modern (well, circa 1970) brutalist-style apartment building. As brought to life by Ben Wheatley (who also directed "Kill List," which I loved), "High Rise" is a breathtaking vision, not exactly plot-driven, but full of imaginative, unforgettable imagery. Tom Hiddleston (aka Loki) plays the new guy in the building, and though he starts out sane, before long he's hoarding grey paint from the embattled supermarket and using it to cover his entire apartment and a good percentage of himself to boot. "High Rise" is a sensory experience more than a straightforward movie (like the novel that inspired it), but if you're in the right frame of mind and looking for something more than a little offbeat, I think you'll like it. In other words, don't sweat the details. Best to let this one just wash over you.


Took Allie to this one (against her wishes -- she's weird about not wanting to see movies she ends up liking) and the whole family wound up enjoying it. Gorgeous stop-motion animation (with a well-applied computer assist) is used to tell the story of a young boy searching for the components of a suit of armor so he can defeat his (evil, scary, almost-all-powerful) grandfather. It winds up becoming more a story of family that it first appears to be, and even though Matthew McConaughey voices a warrior who delivers the comedy relief, it's never too silly or (thank god) reliant on modern references, like "Shrek" or something along those lines. It's exciting, surprising and, in the end, almost defiant in the way it's willing to avoid certain cliches of both action movies and modern animation. Of course, because America is full of idiots, it didn't do gangbusters at the box office and left theaters before it should have. When it hits home video, be sure to check it out.


Exceedingly mediocre (is that possible) documentary about a cult that developed in Hollywood in the 1980s, all revolving around a guy named "Michel," who is referred to as "the Teacher" by his followers and couldn't give off a more creepy vibe if he wore clown makeup. Favoring plastic surgery and speedos (oh, the endless speedos in this movie), Michel somehow convinced a bunch of seemingly normal people to move into a big house, pool their resources and spread the word of "Buddhafield." In the end, as these things usually go, Michel got a little too controlling and touchy-feely, and most of the people walked away. The film was directed by Will Allen, who was sort of the propaganda minister of the cult, responsible for recording everything on video. That means we get footage of the cult's entire run, but it also raises a few questions about why Allen didn't see the obvious signs that Buddhafield wasn't on the up-and-up. The movie would have been more compelling had it raised these issues; instead, it's like a lot of other cult documentaries you've seen with the added twist that nothing much happens. Skip it, and wait for "Killing of America" to hit Blu-ray later this month. Now there's a movie with a cult connection that will knock you off your seat.

Up next: A truly great devil movie, a truly great media movie and one of the darkest 1970s movies I've ever seen.

Movies I Watched in August, Part 3

Seeing as how September is almost over, I'm going to make Part III of this little August Movie Trilogy quick, OK?


Re-watched this one for an upcoming episode of Out of Theaters that should, fate willing, feature a special guest. I'd seen it before, years ago, but had forgotten just how much fun it is. I'm a huge fan of the era of garage bands this celebrates, and I appreciate how much Tom Hanks obviously loves the time period, its music and its pop culture. I don't know if "That Thing You Do" is a great movie, but it's a very, very good one with a number of great scenes. Being a fan of schlock movies, I especially enjoyed the flawless recreation of the teen beachsploitation films, right down to the crazy side characters, boring leads and guest-star bands (in this case, the Wonders) who obviously aren't playing their instruments.


Watched this one for an episode of Out of Theaters that hit the airwaves (the podwaves?) a couple of weeks ago. Listen to it here , and while you're at it, read my essay about the film at that link. It sums up anything I'd say about this very funny, very violent, very smart film in this space, only with a lot more words.


I've seen this one before, obviously, but TCM devoted a day of its "Summer Under the Stars" festival to Boris Karloff, and this 1931 groundbreaker ended up in a prime time slot. It had been years since I last watched "Frankenstein" in its entirety, and I was shocked at how good it was. I mean, I knew it was good, but for some reason while (rightfully) elevating its sequel (see below), I was (wrongly) writing this film off as a crude, stagey rough draft for the greatness to come. I'm happy to say I was way off base. Directed by James Whale, this movie is beautifully filmed and strikingly edited, every scene designed to maximize the dread and shock to come. Sure, it's not quite as accomplished as "Bride," but it leaves the other big Universal Studios release of 1931, Tod Browning's "Dracula," in the dust. That movie is creaky and feels every one of its 85 years. "Frankenstein," on the other hand, feels alive and ominous even today. And the Monster's first appearance, with Karloff entering the room backwards and slowly turning to face the audience -- that's still unnerving!


And, of course, TCM followed "Frankenstein" with its 1935 sequel, which just might be the peak of that 1930s Universal horror cycle. (Though, my personal favorite is 1934's distinctly creepy oddity "The Black Cat." ) "The Bride of Frankenstein" is a funny, scary, ambitious film, with imaginative new characters (Dr. Praetorius and, of course, The Bride herself) and new twists on old favorites (the good doctor is crazier than ever, and the Monster talks this time around). I love the scene with the blind hermit, which gives Karloff a chance to add new levels to the Monster's personality, and the ending, with the Bride breaking the Monster's heart and him proclaiming "We belong dead," is one of the most iconic scenes in any movie, ever. (I wrote a lot more about that scene  here , in case you're interested).


I'd put off seeing this Quentin Tarantino Western for a while, and I'm not sure why. I'd seen all of his other movies (yes, even "Reservoir Dogs") during their theatrical runs, and this one, as Quentin was not shy about repeating, was filmed in 70mm to make the theatrical viewing experience mandatory. At any rate, when I finally did see "The Hateful Eight," I loved it, grooving on the sheet Quentin-ness of it all. Eight (actually more) dangerous folks meet at a "haberdashery" during a Wyoming winter storm, and naturally, lies are told, tempers flare, and bullets fly. I won't spoil any of it here, because seeing the carefully set-up scenario play out is at least half the fun. If you want to hear my Out of Theaters co-host, Billy Kulpa , and me talk about it in a spoiler-free discussion, click here and listen to the beginning of the episode. (And then, of course, listen to the rest of the episode, because I'll cover "Network," which we discuss, soon in this very blog.)