Repo Man (1984)

Watching Repo Man for the first time in 2007 is a kind of awkward experience. As a child of the 80's who gobbled up delicious pop culture (and in particular movies) like a hungry man at a Griddle buffet, it's a little embarrassing to confess that I never saw the movie before today. I knew a little about it and certainly recall the box art at the local Video Store, but I know that I never ever considered taking it home.

Flash forward to 2007, and Repo Man is regarded as something of a cult classic. It's clear to see why. This is the sort of movie that I would have adored 20 years ago (I sort of love it now) complete with cheeseball glowing car effects, an eccentric (but rich) supporting cast and a lead performance by Emilio Estevez that almost (almost) makes Mighty Ducks acceptable. [Estevez in particular is much, much cooler in this film than anything else I've ever seen, urging me to wonder, is there an alternate cool-version of Emilio somewhere else in the movie-world?]

There's no question that the thing that make Repo Man work is its attitude. Kind of like the punk characters in the film (one personal favorite scene: skinhead Duke telling mohawk Debbi that he wants to settle down and have kids with her because it seems like the thing that people do), the movie punches and kicks at the traditional structure of movies. Every character has an edge, or a hang-up, or a particular neurosis. No one seems to get along. Together, the cast forms a motley sort of circle that, while enormously entertaining, seems as dangerous and unfriendly as the industrial neighborhoods they cruise. And funny. Underneath it all, blasts a really spectacular soundtrack filled with the likes of Iggy Pop, The Circle Jerks, Suicidal Tendancies and Black Flag. Mix these elements with the right dose of disrespect and you wind up with something approaching an anti-movie. Alex Cox is a master.

In my experience, there are a lot (a lot) of 80's flicks that coast by on a strong wave of nostalgia; and if you don't share the nostalgia, the experience can sometimes come up empty (I'm talking to you, Buckaroo Banzai!!) Let's be honest: a lot of these 80's movies are crap. Great pop culture and miles of fun...but still basically crap. I'm pleased to discover that Repo Man doesn't fit into this bucket. For someone with no '84-tinged memories of the film at all, it still rolls pretty great in 2007.

I won't wait 23 years before I watch it again.

Citizen Kane? Again?

A few words regarding the newly published and updated AFI Top 100.

First, my great disappointment that Citizen Kane has once again come out on top of another film-classics list. Don't misunderstand. I have nothing but respect and admiration for Orson Welles' masterpiece, but it doesn't and probably never will fit comfortably in my Top 10. A film-school classic and a wonderful bit of movie-movie, it's becoming a bit like the the world champ who won't relinquish belt: after a while it's boring and people want to see a changing of the guard. The story becomes less about the winning and more about when will he lose?

Because I'm me, I had to crunch the new list a little. In doing so, I scored each movie on the basis of its rank in the list (#1 was given 100 points, #2 - 99 points and so on until #100 was given with 1 point). Looking at a weighted ranking, here's some of the highlights that struck me as interesting:

- Biggest gainers are two films very near and dear to my heart that ironically enough, leapt onto my own list of favourites within the last year. John Ford's The Searchers has jumped from #96 to #12 (!) while Buster Keaton's note-perfect The General has appeared on the list for the first time at #18. Vertigo also made a pretty shocking climb from #62 all the way to the top 10 (#9).

- Almost two dozen movies fell off the AFI list, but the biggest drops came from Doctor Zhivago (was #39), Birth of a Nation (#44) and From Here to Eternity (#52). It's already been pointed out elsewhere that the revolutionary but racist Birth of a Nation was conveniently replaced by D.W. Griffith's 1916 follow-up Intolerance as though the AFI conscience could no longer bear to celebrate the earlier film. Hmmm.

- Notable new additions to the 2007 list include Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring (which I assume to be an informal proxy for the entire trilogy?) at #51, Robert Altman's Nashville at #59 and Preston Sturges' Sullivan's Travels (#61). Shawshank Redemption and Titanic have also - finally - cracked the list, appearing at #72 and #83 respectively.

- The AFI list continues to love the 1970's, which is perhaps a symptom of the dominant generation of critics and filmmakers voting on this list. While there haven't been any seismic changes in this regard, the 70's still lead the list with 20 movies, followed by the 60's (17 movies) and 50's (16 movies). In fact, only 20 movies appear on the list after 1979 (8 in the 80's, 11 in the 90's and 1 in the 00's).

- Most celebrated years are 1969 (Midnight Cowboy, Butch Cassidy, Wild Bunch, Easy Rider), 1976 (Taxi Driver, Rocky, Network, All the President's Men) and 1982 (E.T., Tootsie, Sophie's Choice, Blade Runner) with four movies apiece. However in terms of actual point scores, the winners are 1939 (Gone With the Wind, Wizard of Oz, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington) and 1941 (Citizen Kane, Maltese Falcon, Sullivan's Travels) which have long been reputed to be the most golden years of Hollywood's Golden Age.

- As much as he is still oft-maligned by critics and arthouse snoots, Spielberg is unquestionably on top of the survey (for the second time). The only director with 5 movies on the list (280 points), he is clearly the AFI's MVP and as a dedicated fan of his golden run in the late-70's/early-80's, this warms my heart. I don't think Saving Private Ryan (#71) belongs on the list (time will tell) but I'm equally certain that Munich should someday replace it. Director #2 is Hitchcock (4 movies and 278 points) and #3 is Billy Wilder (4 movies and 257 points) - particularly interesting given that outside of movie-enthusiasts and the film community, your average joe probably couldn't identify 2 or 3 Wilder films.

- While it may be universally acknowledged among fans, filmmakers and even critics that The Empire Strikes Back is the superior Star Wars film and the high-point of Lucas' space-saga, it is still plain-old Star Wars that holds the premium spot in the top 20. No one, and least of all me, will ever argue against Star Wars' impact and importance on a list like this, but can we all just agree that it's the dorky, moppy-haired younger brother of the vastly more effective Empire?

- I won't quibble over titles not included on the list as I think that overall, it's quite solid but for the record, just allow me this: Still no Howard the Duck. Still no Pee Wee's Big Adventure. Still no Weird Science.

- Personally, as someone always working to "finish the list" with respect to my own viewing, the updated list has put me just over the 2/3 mark - I've seen 69 films on the updated list, 66 on the previous incarnation. But there's still some shockers on my to-do list...not the least of which are those errant titles in the top 10...?

Here's the complete list with asterixes next to the movies I've seen:

1. Citizen Kane (1941)*
2. The Godfather (1972)*
3. Casablanca (1942)*
4. Raging Bull (1980)*
5. Singin' in the Rain (1952)*
6. Gone With the Wind (1939)
7. Lawrence of Arabia (1962)*
8. Schindler's List (1993)*
9. Vertigo (1958)
10. The Wizard of Oz (1939)*
11. City Lights (1931)
12. The Searchers (1956)*
13. Star Wars (1977)*
14. Psycho (1960)*
15. 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)*
16. Sunset Boulevard (1950)
17. The Graduate (1967)*
18. The General (1927)*
19. On the Waterfront (1954)*
20. It's a Wonderful Life (1946)
21. Chinatown (1974)*
22. Some Like It Hot (1959)*
23. The Grapes of Wrath (1940)*
24. E.T. - The Extra-Terrestrial (1982)*
25. To Kill a Mockingbird (1962)*
26. Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939)
27. High Noon (1952)*
28. All About Eve (1950)*
29. Double Indemnity (1944)
30. Apocalypse Now (1979)*
31. The Maltese Falcon (1941)*
32. The Godfather, Part II (1974)*
33. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975)*
34. Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937)*
35. Annie Hall (1977)*
36. The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957)
37. The Best Years of Our Lives (1946)
38. The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948)*
39. Dr. Strangelove (1964)*
40. The Sound of Music (1965)*
41. King Kong (1933)*
42. Bonnie and Clyde (1967)*
43. Midnight Cowboy (1969)*
44. The Philadelphia Story (1940)
45. Shane (1953)
46. It Happened One Night (1934)
47. A Streetcar Named Desire (1951)*
48. Rear Window (1954)
49. Intolerance (1916)
50. Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001)*
51. West Side Story (1961)*
52. Taxi Driver (1976)*
53. The Deer Hunter (1978)*
54. MASH (1970)
55. North by Northwest (1959)*
56. Jaws (1975)*
57. Rocky (1976)*
58. The Gold Rush (1925)
59. Nashville (1975)*
60. Duck Soup (1933)*
61. Sullivan's Travels (1941)*
62. American Graffiti (1973)*
63. Cabaret (1972)*
64. Network (1976)*
65. The African Queen (1951)
66. Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)*
67. Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966)
68. Unforgiven (1992)*
69. Tootsie (1982)*
70. A Clockwork Orange (1971)*
71. Saving Private Ryan (1998)*
72. The Shawshank Redemption (1994)*
73. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969)*
74. The Silence of the Lambs (1991)*
75. In the Heat of the Night (1967)
76. Forrest Gump (1994)*
77. All the President's Men (1976)
78. Modern Times (1936)*
79. The Wild Bunch (1969)
80. The Apartment (1960)
81. Spartacus (1960)*
82. Sunrise (1927)
83. Titanic (1997)*
84. Easy Rider (1969)
85. A Night at the Opera (1935)
86. Platoon (1986)*
87. 12 Angry Men (1957)
88. Bringing Up Baby (1938)*
89. The Sixth Sense (1999)*
90. Swing Time (1936)
91. Sophie's Choice (1982)
92. Goodfellas (1990)*
93. The French Connection (1971)*
94. Pulp Fiction (1994)*
95. The Last Picture Show (1971)*
96. Do the Right Thing (1989)*
97. Blade Runner (1982)*
98. Yankee Doodle Dandy (1942)
99. Toy Story (1995)*
100. Ben-Hur (1959)

To Live and Die in LA (1985)

If The French Connection embodies the aesthetic of a cop procedural built in 1971, then William Friedkin's To Live and Die in LA embodies those same hard-nosed qualities as passed through the pop filter of the mid-80's. Sharing more than a number of passing similarities (including a shockingly bleak conclusion), To Live and Die is essentially an 80's update to Friedkin's landmark classic, with a whack of Wang Chung thrown in for good measure.

Here again is the breathtaking car chase, punctuating the drama in the last act of the film without feeling like an unnecessary action served for action's sake (and it's a doozy, especially when things get onto the freeway!) Here again is the plot that concentrates on a couple of hard-working detectives chasing false leads, reluctant informants and trying with their most sober faces to penetrate crime's inner circle. Like Friedkin's earlier film, the movie begins as a formulaic cops-and-robbers thriller, but quickly jumps the rails into fresh and unpredictable territory (the third act in particular delights with twists and surprises: one final scene in particular shocked me by circumventing expections and completely rewriting the final minutes of the movie...I won't spoil, but people familiar with the movie will know the scene of which I write. I had to rewatch the scene just to make sure I hadn't confused myself.)

First impression watching the movie was similar to my first impression of Michael Mann's Manhunter: William Peterson seemed to be playing a younger model of CSI's Gil Grishom, sniffing out a case with rigid determination and professionalism. (In fact, both Manhunter and To Live and Die share a great deal in common, dressed though they may be in very different 80's stylings; there's very little neon to be found in Friedkin's film.) However, unlike those other characters, Peterson's professionalism deteriorates into obsession as his CIA agent character throws aside the rules to catch an uncatchable counterfeiter (Willem Dafoe). By the time the chase escalates to a sprint, there is no resemblance to be found between Peterson's other, more famous, cop roles. Corruption builds and while the viewer shares Peterson's passion to catch the crook (his partner was killed after all), an awkward disconnect begins to happen with his methods of bending the rules to do so. Especially as he ropes in his new and less flexible partner.

[Special mention: Willem Dafoe plays an especially smarmy villain not afraid to wear a turtleneck to a dangerous money-exchange. Dare I say he's almost preppy?]

If there is any fault to be found with To Live and Die (and frankly, there isn't really), one could fault the trappings of the 80's cop formula made popular in Miami Vice, including the faceless henchmen with the automatic weapons and the fashion model girlfriends wandering nakedly like so much set-dressing. But then, these are precisely the things that mark To Live and Die as a relic of the mid-80's and sometimes when carbon-dating points to 1985, it can be a good thing. Especially when the package is assured and lean as this film.

Did I mention that soundtrack? Wang Chung-alicious!

Repulsion (1965)

I play a lot of my movies in the hours and minutes immediately before I go to bed. In fact, I literally drop movies onto the iPod and crawl into bed, watching bits of movies in the darkness as T. sleeps next to me (this is preferable to a book because I don't have to have a light on). For the most part, this routine works great. Because the entire exercise is done with the lights off and via headphones, I generally enjoy these bedtime movies with a heightened level of engagement. I unwind from the day and find release. The movies, in turn, get past the usual daylight filters and download directly to the deep section of my brain that absorbs and digests movies. It's all-round good times. And then alone comes a movie like Roman Polanski's Repulsion.

Repulsion is an ugly and dangerous little movie to download right before knocking off to sleep. The movie hums at one of those Lynch-ian dream frequencies, that can potentially make sleep very, very uncomfortable. I hesitate to say the movie gave me nightmares, but I have to confess that the degree of chill provided by the movie (and occasionally escalated by bursts of quick violence), left me startled and confused enough when it was over that I was uncertain whether to try to sleep or simply head downstairs for a sandwich. Instead I laid in bed staring at the ceiling, unsure what damage had been done to my fragile brain.

[Note: I should clarify that this is all very good. A movie that can change your body temperature and get under your skin like this is something to be recommended and treasured.]

Repulsion is Roman Polanski's first English-language film and sets down the thriller template that he would visit again 4 years later in Rosemary's Baby (of which I was most reminded). The principle difference between the two films is that Rosemary's Baby is essentially a horror film that circles around the occult; the threats are supernatural, extraordinary and ultimately, unknowable. Repulsion, on the other hand, is a film about human madness, as a young woman becomes so sexually repressed that it drives her (violently) insane. The latter seems a little more chilling in context.

The young woman in the film is played Catherine Deneuve, in an intriguing counterpoint to the role she would later play in Belle De Jour (1967). Deneuve plays the part very much on the inside; for the first act of the film, she seems almost autistic, slow to speak and act, staring off into space as people address her. The term bimbo might come to mind. However, gradually it becomes clear that there is a lot going on behind those eyes and that her inability to express emotion isn't a symptom of disengagement. To be blunt, she is simply losing her shit. In the same manner as Pvt. Pyle in Full Metal Jacket, it's the eyes that tell the story. Psychology students everywhere could write papers on the degrees of mental disintegration as she progresses from paranoia to a full meltdown.

Still, while the plot may be compelling, it's Polanski's assured direction which elevates Repulsion from a 60's B-picture to a classic worth revisiting 40 years on. The story unfolds at a glacial pace and with a decidely European eye, with most of the movie holed in a small London flat. Within this apartment, Polanski finds unique ways of ringing the madness from his main character, as plaster cracks and church bells chime off-screen. In fact, it is the soundtrack of the picture that best promotes Deneuve's dread and turns the film into a waking nightmare. Small touches like scales running on a piano or flies buzzing around spoiling food form a menacing audio soundscape that demands the treacherous chill of the film (especially via headphones at night!) In contrast, there are massive sections of the movie with little or no dialogue or sound, creating a vacuum that sucks the viewer in and forces them share in Deneuve's immense discomfort. The sick pay-off comes when the silence is abruptly split by sudden and drastic interruptions like walls cracking or someone knocking at a door (which may sound like cheap thrills but in this context, are quite effective.)

Then there's violence. For a movie that triggers on a couple of explosive murders, the savagery in the film is shockingly brief, and still more outrageous than most modern films. Clearly, it is more devastating to know that a person has been killed with multiple strikes from a straight razor than it is to see that razor make contact with the victim. The mind fills in the darkness with terrible things and it is a wise choice to keep the murders in shadow. I would estimate that on-screen violence commands less than a couple of minutes of screentime, but the damage and terror hangs over everything that follows.

And that's what you take with you to sleep, when the movie is finally over. Thanks for the bad dreams, Polanski.

Black Christmas (1974)

It would seem that horror is going to dominate the list today. And that's a good thing when the movies are geniunely scary.

Upon watching Black Christmas, I probably did what most serious horror fans have done when discovering this film for the first time: I checked my timelines. Black Christmas came out in 1974, 12 weeks after the premiere of Texas Chain Saw Massacre and 4-years earlier than Halloween. So where does that put it in the slasher chronology? Pretty much at the front.

What's clear seeing this film now is how much of Bob Clark's 1974 horror prototype was co-opted, borrowed and (please forgive me for this) sliced up in the decades to follow as Dead Teenager Movies (Roger Ebert's classic definition, not mine) became the reigning sub-genre in multiplexes. It is John Carpenter who probably has the most to account for. I'm not about to proclaim that any element of Halloween was directly stolen from Black Christmas, and will continue to maintain that it is the much superior horror film, however the similarities are pretty clear. Likewise When a Stranger Calls (original and remake alike!) The calls are coming from inside the house, indeed!

But history lesson aside, how is it?

Black Christmas has held up extremely well and is as strong now as any of its late-70's and early-80's slasher counterparts. As timeless as Halloween (Jamie Lee Curtis fashions aside) and certainly less creaky and dated than any of the Friday the 13th or Nightmare on Elm Street films, Black Christmas plays like a solid slasher film without the franchise appeal. While it can certainly be argued that having an unidentified predator victimize the girls in Black Christmas maximizes the terror and creates a more imaginative monster than other slasher films (since it is the viewer who must imagine who or what the killer is!), there's something to be said about the iconic status of Michael Myers, Jason Vorhees and Freddy Krueger (all names which are synonymous with their given franchises.) In fact, perhaps the most surprising thing about this early pioneer of the slasher genre is that it didn't spawn any sequels at all...something which clearly makes it unique or un-slasher-like?

Most importantly, the movie is still pretty scary. I have a relatively thick skin for these sorts of films now, having grown up on this formula, but I can report that for much of Black Christmas's runtime, I was geniunely "nervous". Most effective are the phone calls from the killer, relaying crypic messages about "Billy" in those terrible parrot-like voices. Something about the inhumane banter elevates the film and creates geniune apprehension about who or what is stalking the house. The murders themselves are pretty pedestrian by modern standards (propping up and posing your bloody victims is so 1978!) but the iconic image of Clare Harrison under her plastic bag is still pretty snappy.

Still, given the saturation of Dead Teenager Movies in the last three decades, it's tough to imagine the impact this film must have had on movie-goers that grew up on 50's and 60's horror films, particularly given the relentlessly anti-social slasher formula. As a kid who grew up on the Michael Myers and Freddy Kruegers of the movie world, I'm just glad to see that Black Christmas hasn't become a stiff museum piece. I'd like to revisit some of its offspring in the weeks to come.

Modern Times (1936)

This is more like it. But I should explain.

For the last week or so, there's been a back-and-forth happening in my Monday Project list between Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton films and to this point, Keaton has been dominating Chaplin to an embarrassing degree. I'm going to save my thoughts on Buster Keaton for a special posting in the next week or two, but suffice to say that The General is one of very few movies that I'm prepared to label virtually perfect! Few movies of any era have so completely impressed me with their craft and artistry so immediately as this classic Keaton film and to follow it with Chaplin's The Kid (a classic in its own right) was not quite fair. I then followed this up with Keaton's The Cameraman (spectacular!!) and the match score quickly became 2-0. I thought I was on my way to a major blow-out...

But Modern Times, ah! This is more like it.

It's in this movie that I can see most clearly the appeal and permanence of Charlie Chaplin. The film is fun, sophisticated, intricate and exciting to the maximum degree, loaded with the sorts of classic sequences that determine a legendary movie. Proof lies no further than the opening of the film as Chaplin works on a factory line, his sole job to tighten two bolts on every piece of industrial steel that runs past him. It's in this section of the film that we see the iconic image of the Tramp being consumed by the factory machine, winding his way through the gears until he is spit back out the top. An effective image for anyone looking for a message, and a remarkably entertaining stunt to boot! However, the grace-note comes when Chaplin finishes his shift and steps away from the conveyor, his entire body still shaking and twitching to the rhythm of the assembly line; physical comedy that Chaplin makes look easy but creates a surprising level of sympathy as he approaches a nervous breakdown.

Other sections of the film are equally exciting and there is no shortage of original ideas. At the top of this list is the disturbing machine introduced by management at the factory as a way of feeding its employees their lunch as they work (maximum productivity!) Chaplin becomes the guinea pig to demonstrate the device and his interaction with the machine (which appears to be a sort of industrial torture device) is the thing of nightmares as food is literally forced into his mouth. In another scene, Chaplin also traps a mechanical co-worker in the massive gears of an industrial machine so only his head remains. All of this makes the movie (and industrial workplace) sound sort of horrific and I guess that's the point; however all of the situations are delivered with Chaplin's light touch, mining the real comedy in each.

Most affecting is the way Chaplin finds something positive in the bleak situation of the Gamin (the matchless Paulette Goddard) who is orphaned and homeless. Chaplin's Tramp provides hope and friendship, breaking her from prison and sharing in her dream of a "normal" life.

It's easy now to forget that Modern Times was created at the height of the Depression and that poverty was a very immediate problem, not an abstract history lesson. While it has been argued that Chaplin's film rests much of the blame for this social problem on the automation of industry, the film deliberately counters the horrific industrial imagery with a very humanistic story. In fact, I think it's the relationship of these two outcasts, finding companionship and support together that is the beating heart of Modern Times and elevates the film from a kinetic comedy to a real masterpiece.

One last treat I want to mention: I consider Smile to be one of the great songs of the 20th Century and to see it played here in context, through the quiet scenes shared between Chaplin and the Gamin, is wonderful. The final scene of the film is astonishing, one of those special movie moments when one can feel the scene transcending the movie and lifting itself into those film-history reels that grace every Academy Award show. The parting shot of Chaplin and the Gamin walking away down the road is a wonderful image for The Tramp's final screen appearance (it's my understanding that Chaplin never used the character in a movie again).

Perhaps the only misstep in the film is the decision to have Chaplin's Tramp character sing a short song (even if it was sung for laughs in a mock-German accent). As I understand it, Chaplin was under tremendous pressure to create a "talkie" (Modern Times was released 9 years after the innovation of sound-cinema) but he maintained enough control over his films to allow the Tramp character to remain silent. Nevertheless, to hear Chaplin's actual voice coming from this traditionally silent character, even for just a brief moment, actually removed a little of the mythos. Thankfully, the effect is short-lived but it's a damaging note in an otherwise amazing film.

The Keaton-Chaplin fest will continue in the weeks to come as I have already begun sourcing copies of other films that need to be considered. I hope soon to watch films like City Lights, The Gold Rush and The Great Dictator in addition to Our Hospitality, Sherlock Jr and Steamboat Bill, Jr. I'm still finding myself to be a monstrous Buster Keaton fan but am also finding lots to appreciate and enjoy in the work of Charlie Chaplin. (Harold Lloyd will also have his turn in the fray in the coming weeks...)

Pi (1998)

And just like that I'm left scratching my head for the second time.

My first viewing of π was during a 24-hour Fest, sometime well past the midnight mark. The group knew next to nothing about the movie when we threw it in our line-up (messed up movies tend to go in the early-morning hours so we knew at least that much); in hindsight, it was sort of a silly place to drop the movie. I was in and out of sleep I'm certain, but saw enough of the film to know that I could never hope to catch up to what was going on. There was a lot of talk about power-drills and brains, but beyond that the movie seemed incomprehensible.

As an aside, I'd like to mention at this point that I'm a registered super-fan of Requiem for a Dream and a considered admirer of The Fountain (which I intend to see a couple of more times before declaring it a failed experiment or masterpiece; a movie like The Fountain doesn't allow much middle ground). I like Darren Aronofsky a lot as a filmmaker and think he has mad skills. He will continue to be a Director-to-Watch for me for a good, long time.

Regardless of this, my second viewing of π was another misfire. Wide awake, focused and prepared for the low-fi style of the film, I still came back with a handful of sand. The premise of the film is solid: a math genius believes that all mysteries can be solved with numbers and finds himself at the centre of an obsessive quest for a 216-digit number which may or may not have a higher purpose. This is the sort of log-line that fires up someone like me; I have a math degree, enthusiasm for puzzles and a tremendous appreciation for math in movies, done right. However, the movie circles the premise, offers a few teasing nuggets (the connections between the Hebrew alphabet and their mathematical counterparts is fun) and ultimately delivers a stack of gobbledy-gook. Even the climax, with blood and power tools galore, didn't really satisfy me as it wasn't clear what I was supposed to be taking away from this radical conclusion: ambiguity is cool, but I didn't even feel like I had enough information to start out with theories.

[If someone wants to explain, I'd be happy to entertain some theories. I wasn't enthusiastic enough or intrigued enough to go looking for explanations on message boards...]

I wish I liked this movie more. I wished I loved it. I may even give it another go in 10 years, but for now, I have to file it away as a precious art-house film with a lot of big ideas but little in the way of solid ammunition.

Touch of Evil (1958)

Spoilers follow. If you've never seen Touch of Evil, you should be wary of the points I'm about to discuss - this may be new information to some and my enjoyment of the film came in large part from not knowing any of the following...

Now, imagine if you will watching the opening minutes of Touch of Evil unfold without any of the pre-conceptions or expectations hung on the movie by film school profs and writers; consider coming into the opening scene blind and you'll get some sense of my first contact with the Orson Welles masterpiece. Here's a movie that I knew virtually nothing about before the opening tracking shot, reputed to be one of the landmark opening shots in film history, thrilled me and sent me scrambling for the rewind button on my remote. I'm referring of course to the unbroken tracking shot which begins on a pair of hands starting the timer on a bomb, planting the bomb in the trunk of a car and then following the car as it drives through the streets of the Mexican border town, criss-crossing paths with our heroes before ultimately crossing the border and exploding. Breathtaking doesn't really describe the path this camera takes as it rises and falls over buildings and around corners to follow the action. Rather, Hitchcock's famous bomb theory comes to mind with the passing of each minute on the clock. [If you don't know, Hitchcock's bomb theory was that it was more thrilling to show an audience a bomb and then let them fret about when it would go off, rather than simply having a bomb go off.]

During this opening, my mind also wandered to Children of Men, in large part because of the revolutionary sequences Alfonso Cuarón choreographed in that film, choosing like Welles to circle and chase the action with one unbroken shot; in Cuarón's case, my understanding is that the sequences took some CG assistance and pioneered some new camera effects, but the impact is no different. I'm certain that 1950's audiences must have been as surprised as modern audiences to see just how far the camera would go to pursue the story. Nothing new under the sun, I suppose. Cuarón's technique isn't new, just the tools and sophistication available to him.

Touch of Evil is full of just such surprises, unpredictable at every turn but always wrapped in Welles' virtuoso storytelling. Not everything in the movie is as showy as the opening sequence; consider the chase that closes the film as Charlton Heston's Vargas pursues Welles' corrupt sheriff with a tape recorder, shadowing him through an industrial set and under a footbridge. As Welles hears his own voice repeating behind him, he assumes it to be an echo. The staging is simple, but creates a layer of anxiety to the pursuit that would have been missing from a more traditional foot chase.

Orson Welles is equally spectacular in front of the camera. Playing the nefarious Police Captain Quinlan, Welles is a monster on-screen, physically as much as morally. Photographed from low angles, he dominates the frame whenever he appears, lumbering and slurring his speech like a man who has just finished a big meal. Knowing Orson Welles on-screen mostly from Citizen Kane and The Third Man, he is almost unrecognizable under the extra weight. The voice, however, remains unmistakable. And the performance is superior at every turn, finding an unusual balance between crookedness and most surprisingly of all, sympathy. It's one of those rare movie performances where you can't take your eyes off the screen.


Still, despite all of that, I guess this is really supposed to be Charlton Heston's movie and he does a fine job as the Mexican (hello?) detective who finds himself at odds with Captain Quinlan. Funny enough that Heston never seems Mexican in the film despite his name (Ramon Vargas) and moustache, however the performance still works. In fact, under Welles' enormous shadow, Heston seems practically subdued, not as flashy and theatrical as other performances. Janet Leigh is great as Vargas' wife, a victim of Quinlan's manipulative plans.

If any aspect of Touch of Evil has aged poorly, it is the wife-in-jeopardy elements of the film: Quinlan's masterstroke is to "frame" Vargas' wife by having some gang-members dope her with truth-serum and surround her with "marijuana roaches" to give the wrongful impression that she is a junkie. In 1958, I suppose marijuana had enough reputation to play this role, but in modern times, it seems a little silly. Heroin maybe could work, but marijuana joints seems like a stretch. Still, on-screen drug use in 1958 must've been pretty edgy.

The rest of the film's plot is remarkably canny given the modern climate. The challenge of solving a car bombing at a border crossing is probably more relevant in 2007 than it was 50 years ago, regardless of the outcome of the crime (it's certainly not terrorism in this story). And of course, the spine of the film has less to do with the crime on which the story is hung, than the damaging cat-and-mouse game between Vargas and Quinlan, the righteous and the corrupt sides of the law.

I have no problem calling this film a masterpiece and will look forward to watching it again.

Don't call it a comeback...

...I been here for years...

Or something like that. This blog has been dusty, neglected and sort of embarrassing for almost 30 months now, and it's not because I haven't been viciously and voraciously consuming new movies. In fact, by my estimates, I've watched a little over 400 new movies since my last posting below. Unfortunately, between family and work, moving to a new house and having another baby, there simply wasn't time to write about movies. Damn shame. I'm sure it would have made a rich and interesting document to have.

Nevertheless, I'm shaking out the joints and cracking the knuckles now, eager to get back to writing something - anything - in regard to the movies I'm watching. Story goes that I'm on track for a personal best this year watching 400 movies. [Don't ask me what my personal best was prior to this achievement because I haven't always kept track; I'm certain that I've never watched 400 movies in one year.]

As of this posting, at the virtual halfway point of 2007, I've watched 192 movies (24 in theatres and 168 on DVD). A little shy of 200, but I should be able to make up the shortfall by Dec. 31 (second half of the year is usually busier for me as better movies start to pop up in theatres and the Toronto Film Festival rolls in). But more importantly, I'm diving through deep, deep lists of legendary movies that are time-proven to be great and discovering (for the first time) some blistering, extraordinary, breathtaking, intoxicating stuff. Quantity is wonderful...but it's the quality that's been knocking me out.

It's a bit of a Golden Age, to be honest.

Just a sample of the remarkable movies watched and adored in the last 6 months are as follows: The Searchers, Mean Streets, Midnight Cowboy, The General, 3:10 To Yuma, Badlands, Spellbound, The Great Silence, Vanishing Point, The Sting, Porco Rosso, Pat Garrett and Billy The Kid, Delicatessen, Dr. No, Prairie Home Companion, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas; any and all of these could stand up with some of my favorite movies of all time. I'm not sure I've watched this many top-level movies in such a short period before in my life.

I've been tracking most of the new movies daily on Facebook, adding an entry (usually) and dropping 20-30 words on each. But the limitations of this are starting to catch up with me and I'm discovering that I often have more to say on each. I might not write 1,000 on every new movie I find, but this blog is a good way for me to keep track of my initial reactions.

More importantly, I figure that if I can spend 20 minutes a day on Facebook, I can certainly spend at least 10 minutes a day on this blog. Here's hoping.

Godspeed.

A complete slobberknocker.

It goes without saying that Christmas finally put the smack on me. The Baby Jesus caught me trying to slip under the ropes and pulled me into a devastating cross-face chicken wing.

The good news: the Monday movies have still been rolling, though I'm sad to confess that I missed a week. In the meantime, I have to get back to it. Here's hoping I'll have something to say about The Last Picture Show or Manhunter in the coming week.