THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WIND (2018)

March 31, 2021

(Netflix) Back when Netflix was trying to court critical respect by restoring old films — yeah, that didn’t last long — they helped fund the restoration of Orson Welles’ final work: THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WIND. They also co-funded a documentary about the restoration of the film, but that’s a story for another day.

If you aren’t familiar with THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WIND, it’s a surreal depiction of a master director (a perfectly cast John Huston) trying to complete a film that everyone believes has spiraled out of his control. Yes, indulgent, but it’s Orson Welles.

I poke a lot of fun at Orson (for instance, I watch THE CRITIC clips lambasting Welles with embarrassing frequency. “They’re even better raw!”) but he was certainly a genius. A flawed genius for sure, but his best pieces were always about fucked up geniuses, including THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WIND which is not so nakedly about him and his legacy. It helps that his longtime paramour Oja Kodar (who appeared in the previously recommended F FOR FAKE, and also appears in WIND’s film-within-a-film, rarely wearing anything) co-wrote and greatly influenced the production. She has been quite silent about the production and restoration, so it’s hard to say how much of her vision is on the screen but, given how unflattering the bulk of the film is, I can’t help but believe she contributed quite a bit. (That’s sheer speculation on my behalf.)

Given that only 45 minutes of this two-and-a-half hour long film was actually edited by Welles, what we’re seeing is more or less a fan edit, as opposed to the restored version of TOUCH OF EVIL where Welles expert Jonathan Rosenbaum aided in restoring EVIL based on Welles’ extremely detailed notes. That said, what’s passed off as WIND -feels- like a later Welles film, often coming across as something that could come unhinged at any point in time, but manages to reel itself in. It’s a fascinating film, one that — given Netflix’s history — may never again be screened in an actual theater (which is a shame, because it sings on the big screen) but watching it on a smaller screen is just one more compromise.

SLEIGHT (2016)

March 30, 2021

(Netflix/VOD)? Like LOVE & BASKETBALL, SLEIGHT also exits at the end of March so, sadly, you don’t have much time to watch it for free, but it’s definitely worth a digital rental fee.

J.D. Dillard seems to specialize in delightfully overstuffed films. SLEIGHT is about a young drug dealer named Bo (Jacob Latimore) that gets in way over his head with supplier Angelo (a somewhat ill-fitting Dulé Hill), but he’s also a street magician who idolizes Houdini, and he also has a crazy superhuman magnetic implant that allows him to pull off some amazing stunts. As he says in the film: “Anyone can learn a trick. Doing something no one else is willing to do makes you a magician.”

It also namedrops West Covina (yeah, I hear you fellow CRAZY EX-GIRLFRIEND fans) and features Cameron Esposito in a supporting role.

While it’s undeniably high-concept, Dillard keeps matters grounded. Bo’s magnetic powers are slowplayed, lending the film a far more human air than you’d expect, which is what I appreciate the most about the movie. Dillard could’ve cranked this up to 11 and I’m sure it would have been an entertaining film, but he did the opposite and it’s far more interesting because of that choice.

That said, it reads like Dillard was setting this up as a franchise, with Bo becoming some sort of Tesla-ish force of nature, but that never happened. Instead, he went on to write and direct the similarly high-concept SWEETHEART, and is now working on a STAR WARS film.

QUEEN & SLIM (2019)

March 29, 2021

(VOD) Fuck everyone that said this film was style over substance. Every scene here exists for a reason, and -just happens to be- stylishly shot.

Yes, this can be called a Black Bonnie & Clyde film. (Hell, it’s called out in the trailer linked below.) It’s the story of two strangers — Slim (Daniel Kaluuya) and Queen (Jodie Turner-Smith), magnetically thrust together, immediately pegged as criminals as they try to escape an unjust system while working their way through America by car for freedom.

The film runs the emotional gamut: it’s cruel, hard, emotional, romantic, sad, heartbreaking, violent, and worth your time.

GLAMOUR GHOUL – THE PASSIONS AND PAIN OF THE REAL VAMPIRA, MAILA NURMI (2021)

I don’t read many biographies, but this one interested me because, come on, it’s Vampira. If you aren’t familiar with Vampira, well, here. She was literally the proto-Elvira (more on that in a bit). However, Maila was also the nexus of a certain part of late 40s/50s Hollywood, something I didn’t know at all.

  • She was involved with Orson Welles shortly before he married Rita Hayworth and, allegedly had his child and gave him up for adoption. (I’ll note that there’s really no proof here regarding the kid.)
  • Disney hired her to be the visual ‘source material’ for Maleficent in SLEEPING BEAUTY
  • She had a very long, very complicated relationship with Marlon Brando
  • She was thick-as-thieves with James Dean
  • She struck up a friendship with — and maybe fucked — Elvis when he was in Vegas
  • She and Anthony Perkins had an intense hot-and-cold friendship
  • She wanted Patricia Morrison (SISTERS OF MERCY) to take up the role of Vampira when talk of restarting the Vampira show began
  • Elvira is the direct result of Maila spurning the Vampira reboot. Maila was supposed to hand-pick the next Vampira and they chose Cassandra Peterson without consulting her, and Maila then refused to sign the contract allowing them to use the name, so she became Elvira instead.

I knew this was a bio from a blood relative, from Maila’s niece Sandra Niemi, so I was skeptical as to some of these stories which, admittedly come from Maila’s own pen, but uh, there are plenty of photos and pre-existing proof. Maila knew misfit talent when she saw it — herself being similarly minded. While the bio is a bit clunky, it’s stuffed full of stories that entertain and enthrall, and paint the picture of a very complex woman, a woman with a brilliantly creative, often hilariously filthy, mind. Sadly, she was often mercurial, and her luck was rotten and, despite everything she gave to the world and her friends, she often lived in poverty, because it’s fucking Hollywood.

I do want to underscore that, despite all of the stars that pop up, it’s very much a story about deviants and misfits trying to get by in Hollywood. It’s a classic Hollywood tale, but not the classic Hollywood tale most want to hear. But hey, if you’re a goth and you want to know where your media roots stem from, you should read it.

https://bookshop.org/books/glamour-ghoul-the-passions-and-pain-of-the-real-vampira-maila-nurmi/9781627311007

THE TWILIGHT ZONE: COME WANDER WITH ME (1964)

March 28, 2021

(Hulu/Paramount+, S05E34) This episode of THE TWILIGHT ZONE is rarely included in best of lists, which is fair — even if it’s the last-filmed ep and directed by Richard Donner — as its story is a bit strained, even by TWILIGHT ZONE standards. Floyd Burney, known as the “Rock-A-Billy Kid” (Gary Crosby), is on the prowl for a new song in a small, unnamed town. He overhears a woman singing and follows her voice as she repeats the refrain: “Come wander with me love / Come wander with me / Away from this sad world / Come wander with me”

The woman introduces herself as Mary Rachel (Bonnie Beecher) and is reluctant to part with the song, but Floyd is insistent. Matters escalate quickly as the rest of the song is revealed.

While the episode is a bit clunky, it’s the song that makes it memorable. -Come Wander With Me- is a brilliantly haunting ballad and, even though the song was never written or recorded in full, a number of musicians, such as Émilie Satt and British Sea Power, have covered it over the years.

Émilie Satt – Come Wander With Me:

British Sea Power – Come Wander With Me:

Hidden Highways – Come Wander With Me:

Original:

It’s worth noting that, for some inexplicable reason, the episode is titled ‘Come Wander With Us’ on Netflix.

PLAYTIME (1967)

March 27, 2021

(Criterion/kanopy/VOD) One of the first screenings I attended upon moving to Chicago was for Jacques Tati’s MR. HULOT’S HOLIDAY at the Music Box Theatre. Sadly, it was in their sidecar theater and, if you think that room is ramshackle now, you should’ve seen it in the 90s. It was a matinee and, while I’d seen it before — I was introduced to Tati and MR. HULOT’S HOLIDAY back when I was a Purdue student — I couldn’t wait to see it in a proper theater, even if the screen wasn’t much larger that one in a college classroom.

Sadly, in a predictably Tati-esque manner, the print burned and tore apart no less than twenty minutes into the film. So it goes.

But! I’m here to extoll Tati’s PLAYTIME, both his greatest film, and also the film that would doom him. Before PLAYTIME, he was a celebrated physical comedian who had directed several very visually clever and humorous movies, including MR. HULOT’s HOLIDAY. PLAYTIME was to be his magnum opus, and he sunk all of his money into a number of dazzlingly huge sets, all constructed to fuel his vision of satirizing modern urban architecture and mode of living.

The end result was an absolute marvel. At the risk of sounding pretentious, it’s pure cinema, each frame densely packed with revelations, but never overwhelming the viewer. It’s a marvelous onion of a work, one where you’ll see something new with each and every screening, jam-packed with gags, either with the blocking, a flourish of color, someone’s line of sight, but the film is always in complete command when it needs to draw your attention to one of the few plot-related setups.

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve watched it. It’s one of the few films I’ll always make a point to catch when it comes to town. It’s an utter delight — one of a handful of films I consider ‘perfect’ — which is why it’s so sad that production overruns bankrupted Tati, then the film flopped upon release, and he never quite recovered from its failure.

COLUMBO: MIND OVER MAYHEM (1974)

March 26, 2021

(peacock/tubi) You may have heard that Jessica Walter passed away yesterday and, to celebrate her life, I’d like to draw your attention to one of her lesser known roles, that of Margaret Nicholson in COLUMBO’s -Mind Over Mayhem-.

Sadly, -Mind Over Mayhem- is not a classic episode of COLUMBO; it’s probably best known for featuring FORBIDDEN PLANET’s Robby the Robot as government robot MM7, and young Lee Montgomery as a boy genius pointedly named ‘Steve Spelburg’. (Steven Spielburg directed the early COLUMBO episode -Murder by the Book-.) Walter stands out as a young, brilliant, psychologist who happens to be the wife of the victim, Dr. Howard Nicholson (Lew Ayres), an older government chemist. José Ferrer is Dr. Marshall Cahill, the director of a government think tank, who ends up murdering Howard to protect his son (Robert Walker Jr.) from allegations of plagiarism.

Ferrer is a fantastic actor but he makes for a rather lousy villain when compared to indelible Columbo murderers such as Robert Culp or Patrick McGoohan. Ferrer’s cool composure simply doesn’t play too well with Falk’s rhythms. It doesn’t help that the murder itself is sloppier than most, resulting in a rather perfunctory game of cat-and-mouse.

However, even a substandard 70s-era episode of COLUMBO is still worth your time, and it features several amusing bits with Dog, Columbo’s dog, as well as predictably novel interplay between Columbo and MM7/Robby the Robot (including Falk antiquated pronunciation of ‘robut’).

While Waters isn’t featured as heavily as I would have liked, and she’s not playing the sort of boozy ice queen she’d become known for — she would have made a great Columbo murderer — she brings a sense of gravity to the role that gives the character more depth than it otherwise would have. She brought that ability to so many shows — including the previously recommended NAKED CITY and ROUTE 66 — and is one of many reasons why she had such a long and fruitful career.

LOVE & BASKETBALL (2000)

March 25, 2021

(HBO MAX/VOD) First things first: it leaves HBO MAX at the end of the month (March 2021) so, watch it while you can!

LOVE & BASKETBALL, written and directed by Gina Prince-Bythewood (THE OLD GUARD, BEYOND THE LIGHTS) is just perfect. Absolutely perfect. The opening scene, introducing us to young tomboy Monica and her future life-long love/combatant Quincy is perfect, even down to Monica sustaining a scar due to a heated game. The following scene, where Quincy is reprimanded by his parents not for saying ‘shit’, but for saying ‘can’t’ is perfect. The fact that Monica owns her scar, and the film never portrays her as an ugly monster, is perfect.

This is a film where the script is so lovingly overworked — overworked in the way that you know the author was like ‘I have one shot. I’m going to cram everything I want to say into this.’ — that you can’t help but laugh when it becomes a bit too predictable, such as a scene where Monica is taken out to a local dance with a college student. Her suitor asks: “Can I take your coat?” and she responds, straight-faced: “Oh, you’re cold?” And it still works!

I’d love to discuss the film in full, but if I did so we’d be here for days so, I’ll simply say: this is one of the best romantic dramas simply because Monica and Quincy start off with a mutual respect for each others’ talents, and that is a goddamn rare thing in fictional romances. They see each other as equals, and butt heads as equals. Even when they’re falling out of each other’s orbits, they still respect each other and are life-long friends. You simply don’t see that in modern romantic films.

The penultimate scene is astounding. “Double or nothing.”

Again, going to point you towards Caroline Siede’s notes about the film.

Trailer (although it’s kind of awful):

FINDLAY – ELECTRIC BONES (2015)

March 24, 2021

[Findlay] (YouTube) Back in November, I recommended a show called GOOD BEHAVIOR. One facet I didn’t touch on was how amazing the music supervision on the show was*: both seasons were perfectly programmed and introduced me to a litany of acts I’d never heard before, including solo electronic artist Findlay.

The music video for Findlay’s ELECTRIC BONES — directed by Sasha Rainbow — is a vibrant, peculiar POV piece that follows the artist singing through the streets of Paris, selectively pixelating anything that — presumptuously — is considered offensive from the POV, while also incorporating other forms of compression artifacts/glitch art as transitionary devices.

I’m not going to say this video was revolutionary — the practically unplayable video game KANE & LYNCH 2 utilized a similar technique by assuming the POV was a player with a terrible digicam, and anything too violent/sexual often was reduced to a spray of pixelation — but whereas that was stylistic, meant to bend the rules, the abstraction here takes on a more multi-faceted meaning. At first, the pixelation simply blurs out explicit sex, license plates, strangers’ faces. By the end, it’s practically taken over the entire frame, including the bulk of any image that women are a part of.

[NSFW, seriously — yes, it’s pixelated but it hides very little.]

  • This is one area where Spotify truly excels at, as it allows music supervisors to post a proper playlist of songs used for an entire season of TV, unencumbered by licenses and the like, as opposed to trying to hunt and peck through reddit for source lists.

Supplemental links:

EATING RAOUL (1982)

March 23, 2021

(HBO MAX/Criterion/VOD) While film seems to be endlessly fragmenting when it comes to genre, some genres seem to have completely fallen off the map, such as the satirical sex farce, which is the closest genre I can think of for EATING RAOUL.

As the trailer below details, EATING RAOUL is a very conflicted picture that tries to have its cake and eat it too, and mostly succeeds because of its absurdity. It’s about a comically straight-laced couple, Paul & Mary, a.k.a. Mr. And Mrs. Bland, a wine snob (character actor and director of DEATH RACE 2000 Paul Bartel) and a nurse (the distinctive horror character actor Mary Woronov), both of whom retire at night in twin beds, the former hugging a plush wine bottle, the latter clutching a number of stuffed animals. They live in an apartment complex full of swingers, and their American Dream is to own their own restaurant. While they found the perfect spot for their restaurant, someone’s about to grab it unless they’re able to pony up the cash, and quick.

So, they come to the conclusion that most modern America comes to: let’s kill and rob the deviants, one-by-one. They choose to do so with the symbol of American domesticity: the frying pan. Eventually they enlist the help of Raoul (Robert Beltran), a ‘hot-blooded emotional, crazy Chicano’ (their words — not mine) who, while turning the bodies into dog food for extra cash, also woos Mrs. Bland.

No, it’s not a subtle film, but the script is whipsmart:

“Mary, I just killed a man.”

“He was a man, honey. Now he’s just a bag of garbage.”

It’s a crazy script, and a crazy film and, while I don’t think it completely succeeds, it’s extremely audacious and entertaining. Frankly, I’m growing tired of capitalist satire being couched in miserable horror films that barely elicit a laugh.