DVD

MILLENNIUM – JOSE CHUNG’S ‘DOOMSDAY DEFENSE’ S02E09 (1997)

October 21, 2024

Given how often I’ve espoused Chris Carter’s serial killer-centric show MILLENNIUM, it will shock no one that I routinely rewatch select episodes every October.

One of those eps is “Jose Chung’s ‘Doomsday Defense’”. Penned by Darin Morgan, ‘Doomsday’ sees profiler Frank Black investigating the murder of an excommunicated ‘Selfosophy’ church member, a man who died wearing a Selfosophy visor and a forced, teeth-clenched grin on his face.

Beloved, aging cult author Jose Chung — previously seen in Morgan’s acclaimed THE X-FILES ep “Jose Chung from Outer Space” — enters the picture. Chung is a ’Selfosophy’ expert, as he was friends with Onan Goopta, the creator of the barely-disguised take on Scientology. Goopta was an aspiring writer under the literary umbrella as Chung, and heavily inspired by his work.

It features a number of Morgan’s creative tics: unreliable narrators, absurd antics, real-life riffs, and double-negatives. In other words, it’s the same sort of inventive, off-beat, singularly satirical work you expect from him. It’s also brilliant complimented by another beloved cult figure, Charles Nelson Reilly, who infuses Chung with an irreverent but melancholy air.

While I frequently come back to this episode for how unique and nuanced it is, there is one scene that has haunted me:

Chung is alone, sitting at his desk scribbling away at his latest novel and musing to himself.

CHUNG (sighs): “This book will be the death of me. I just can’t write any more. What possessed me to want to be a writer, anyway?”

CHUNG pours a shot of whiskey.

CHUNG: “What kind of life is this? What else can I do now with no other skills or abilities?”

CHUNG drops two Alka-Seltzers into the shot and stares at the fizzing glass.

CHUNG: “My life has fizzled away. Only two options left: Suicide, or become a television weather man.”

CHUNG picks up his pen and commences writing again.

CHUNG: “…like television weathermen, getting information one could gather simply by looking out the window, forensic profilers provide little of practical matter. Mr. Blork, however…”

This scene perfectly captures both being a writer — or any vastly interior profession — and the act of writing. Sneakily, it also provides the crux of the episode, all about writers and readers. Chung and Goopta being two-sides of the same published coin, both seeking readers in their own way, both finding readers seeking meaning in words, and Frank following the impact of those words.

“Jose Chung’s ‘Doomsday Defense’” could be a navel-gazing work about one’s craft, but instead it a ruminates on why we create and how your creations resonate once they’re out in the world, how your works can be celebrated, misinterpreted, abused, used for good or for evil, or all of the above.

Now that, dear reader, is a writer’s horror story.

ADDENDUM

Finally, there’s a single line of dialogue that I also frequently return to. I wish more folks were familiar with this episode so I could use it as a contextual joke. In a scene that segues into the above internal monologue, a Selfosophy member is in a coffee shop, seated in front of his laptop, writing a scene detailing how he thinks Chung goes about his process. To showcase to use Selfosophy’s emphasis on positivity, he declares to himself:

“Boy, my writing has really improved since I got this software!”

Has it? Has it really?

TRULY MADLY DEEPLY (1990)

June 12, 2024

On paper, Anthony Minghella’s TRULY MADLY DEEPLY reads like a perfunctory ‘ghost romance’ not unlike, err, GHOST: Nina (the ever sparkling and industrious Juliet Stevenson) is recently bereaved after her lover and celebrated cellist Jaime (Alan Rickman, as soulful as ever even though he has a rather distracting mustache) dies far too young.

Inconsolable, partially due to perhaps the most ineffectual psychologist to be portrayed on film, Nina spends far too much time reminiscing on the good times, ruminating on how she’ll never be able to create new memories with him, and just wishing he was still a part of her life.

She gets her wish. One night, Jaime appears in her apartment, inexplicably visiting from heaven. The two quickly intertwine in ways that doesn’t quite make ghostly sense, but the film is sincere enough that you won’t overthink it.

Again, on paper? Reads like a maudlin romantic weepy and, while it could have been that, about a second chance at happiness with your dearest, Mingella imparts how we glorify past time with partners and how when you get what you want, it’s not always what you need, but one can always try to course-correct.

It’s worth noting that part of that course-correction may take the shape of a manic pixie dream dude who has had way too many whimsical and emotionally precious jobs in his life.

TRULY MADLY DEEPLY was originally shot as a TV film for the BBC, but it managed to make the leap overseas to American arthouses and garnered enough praise that Mingella was quickly being courted by studios to deliver something just as substantial but with an even more lavish sheen.

An aside! If the name Anthony Minghella doesn’t ring a bell, well, his biggest claim to fame is following TRULY MADLY DEEPLY with his film adaptation of THE ENGLISH PATIENT. Also? COLD MOUNTAIN and the 1999 adaptation of THE TALENTED MR. RIPLEY (which is finally getting the respect it deserves). So yes, Minghella enjoyed melancholy romances.

While it was shot for TV, it was visually composed for the silver screen. The recurring visual framing, of trees, of parks, of the sky, of camera angles and windowpanes bolster the emotional intensity; it recreates the sense of a heightened emotional state when everything you see and hear and smell is extraordinarily intense, and the repetition used here showcases how the impact of those experiences ebb and flow for Nina as she navigates life without a living Jaime.

None of TRULY MADLY DEEPLY would work if the chemistry and performances between Stevenson & Rickman lacked resonance and depth. Yes, Minghella did write the part with Stevenson in mind, to show off her energetic quirkiness, and Rickman gets to have his cake and eat it too by being charming and winsome and you can easily see why Stevenson misses him so much, at least until you start to see Jaime’s priggish side. As Rickman becomes more comfortable with his non-heavenly grounding, their relationship shifts in an all too relatable manner, all tension and strife over matters large and small.

While yes, this is a romantic ghostly tale, the relationship dynamics are anything but fantastical.

If there’s any fault to the film, it’s that it often feels slightly padded by the side stories of the supporting characters, especially Nina’s Polish landlord, Titus, who is infatuated with her (until he isn’t). Titus’ storyline dovetails with Nina’s pregnant friend through forced and contrived means that feels rather unnecessary, but perhaps I’m feeling rather cynical at the moment.

I won’t spoil what happens with Nina and Jaime, but I believe there’s more than one way to read the end of this film, neither being necessarily right or wrong. It depends on how altruistic you perceive the characters.

No matter how you interpret the end of the film, it’s a very human movie about coping and coming to terms with some of the most difficult facets of living a life, especially when one is so entangled with another.

Postscript

As noted above, Jaime is a cellist and his cello is the weight that Nina clings to after he’s gone. Nina’s insensitive sister asks Nina if her school-age son can have Jaime’s extremely valuable cello.

Naturally, Nina takes umbrage at this request, noting that it’s all she has left of Jaime and her sister drops the request.

I spent the bulk of my youth as a young cellist and, as someone who started playing in 4th grade — around the same age as the sister’s son — her sister’s request is not just thoughtless, but also completely impractical. A full-size cello would be useless for someone so young, as when you’re that young? You start out with a far smaller cello than a full-size cello, anywhere from 1/8th scale cello to 3/4th scale.

It is a small matter, and perhaps it’s included to showcase how little her sister knows about stringed instruments and youth, but it still irked me.

MILLENNIUM S02E10: Midnight of the Century (1997) [REDUX]

December 25, 2023

Merry fucking Christmas, if you celebrate it!

Ready to read about one of the most emotionally devastating Christmas episodes of TV ever? Good.

I’ve previously posted about the Christmas episode of MILLENNIUM, Midnight of the Century, but felt like it needed a deeper look.

A brief summary of the MILLENNIUM series, despite the fact that — like HARLEY QUINN and RATED Q, I will also never, ever shut up about MILLENNIUM — it was a three-season show about intuitive, sensitive FBI profiler Frank Black, embodied by Lance Henrickson’s gruff voice and serious but soulful presence. He has a spiritual sense of premonition, visions, and general human sensitivity and empathy, far beyond most.

In the season that this episode takes place, Frank is no longer with the FBI, but a freelancer. He’s estranged from his wife Catherine and daughter Jordan because of where his abilities have taken him. He’s also disowned his father Henry because he feels that Henry let his wife — Frank’s mother — wither away and die alone.

Similarly, for all intents and purposes, Frank is alone and he’s struggling with that.

This episode — Midnight at the End of the Century — takes place around Christmas. Catherine hands Frank a drawing that their daughter Jordan made. It’s of an angel, and Catherine notes that Jordan said grandma helped her draw it.

Not Catherine’s living mother, but Frank’s dead mother.

This is entirely an episode all about generational and inherited trauma, and the helplessness of the parents who see their brethren walking the same doomed trail as they have, but still wanting and hoping for better. Well-wishing.

Frank: “You know Jordan. She’s just …sensitive.”

Catherine: “Telling me that she colors with her dead grandmother is a little bit more than sensitive.”

Frank: “Come on. You know Jordan. She’s got a gift. You can’t suppress it.”

Catherine: “Your gift gave you a nervous breakdown. This gift makes you see horrible images. It—it’s turned you away from your family, from your daughter. It’s caused you to turn toward the Millennium group.

“Frank, you never even consider that this gift that you have could be lying to you. Because you don’t see yourself withdrawing from your family, hiding behind your… ability.

“If this has happened to you, what is it gonna do to Jordan?

“I want her to have a choice. I want a childhood free from this.

“I want her to know that she has someplace to turn other than within herself…”

Frank: “Like me. Right? It is what it is. There is nothing we can do to fix it.”

Catherine: “… time’s running out.”

All of this provides an impetus for Frank to seek out his estranged father, played by the magnanimous Darin MacGavin (who starred in KOLCHAK: THE NIGHT STALKER, the series that spurred Chris Carter to create THE X-FILES and MILLENNIUM). Frank is seeking an explanation as to why he believed his father cruelly locked his wife in a second floor bedroom until she died.

As you might suspect, the answer he receives is more complicated than that.

I do not want to spoil matters in the off-hand chance you wrangle a copy of this episode, but I do want to note that there is a significant plot point regarding tiny ceramic angels bestowed by the packaged tea that they routinely buy.

You have to have been a specific age and have a specific sort of parent to have remembered these sort of tea-centric figurines. If you bought a box of Red Rose Tea, you’d receive a Wade Whimsey, a small, themed ceramic figure.

My mother collected them and they stood in a glass cabinet in our dining room, looking over us as we supped. So, yeah, you could say that this episode really hits home for me, and I’ve never seen any other work mention them, much less lean on them as a significant plot point, and definitely not as a Christmas-centric endearment.

This episode has Frank — yet again — wrangling with his past. However, this time it’s a moment of reconciliation, one of understanding, of letting go.

Midnight of the Century is a soulful and emotional episode that leaves the viewer worrying about how inherited traits might complicate their life going ahead, while also mulling over the fallout of said traits, how denial of said traits by the progenitors might affect their brethren, and simply living with one’s self.

Is it Christmas-y? I’d argue it is. What is Christmas if nothing else but acknowledging and living with the fallout and repercussions of Christ being born?

Is it full of cheer? No, not at all, but there is a very specific sort of peace that comes with it, even if it is full of hopeful sorrow.

Merry fucking Christmas.

THE CRITIC: A Little Deb Will Do You -S01E05- (1994)

November 27, 2023

There are a number of jokes that have been stuck in my head for years, but this one joke from the animated show THE CRITIC — a show created by some of the best writers and producers involved with the heyday of THE SIMPSONS — is one of my absolute favorites.

This is all you need to know going in: A young woman is being fitted for her debutante reveal. She is Margo, a liberally-minded teen who eschews this blue-blood practice she was born into but feels pressured to participate in. While being fitted for her reveal dress, the following exchange occurs between the dressmaker and herself.

“We dressmakers have a very strict code, so I need to know: Do you deserve to wear virginal white? Because if you don’t, you’ll have to wear an off-white, what we call a ‘hussy white’.

“So, which will it be? White-white?”

“…yes. Um, except for the gloves.”

I watched this episode when it first aired and was old enough to realize just how smutty the joke was and could not believe it slipped through broadcast standards & practices. I will not spell the joke out for you, as I give you enough credit to have a prurient imagination.

This joke has everything I could ever want: it’s far filthier than it initially sounds, it has a rare sense of specificity, it is loaded with cultural and sexual commentary, and the voice reading cleverly underplays all of the above. It is a brilliant twenty seconds of animated network television.

(If you don’t believe me, check out the YouTube comments on the link at the bottom, as I’m not the only one who fondly remembers this joke!)

I am in the thick of National Novel Writing Month and my novel this year is specifically focused on a bridal dressmaker and her clients. While this is a debutante reveal dress, it works in very much the same way as a bridal dress in that it is often meant to visually exemplify the best of you, as well as make the person wearing it feel imbued with the best of themselves.

I previously only thought about this joke once a month. Now I think about it every fucking day. (Don’t worry, I don’t even come close to involving any ‘hussy’ notions in said novel.)

(Eventually I’ll write a more involved post about THE CRITIC. For now? This will do.)

Unfortunately there’s no single clip available of it, but you can see it via tubi or on YouTube before a DCMA claim takes it down. (UPDATE: It’s now private. Sorry.)

PIECES OF APRIL (2003)

November 20, 2023

Thanksgiving is one of the few holidays where the experience is radically different if you live in a rural area or suburban area versus an urban area, especially if you are a shitheel 20-something and away from home.

In rural and suburban areas it’s a communal, often familial affair; almost routine.

In urban areas and far from family, you have a tiny kitchen that is absolutely not equipped for preparing the amount of food folks expect for Thanksgiving and, if you are in your 20s, you have absolutely no fucking clue what you’re doing, but no one else is doing the work so it’s up to, and you have no one to guide you.

There aren’t a lot of great Thanksgiving films out there, perhaps because the stress of a Thanksgiving dinner is equally mirrored and amplified by preparing a Christmas dinner. (A CHRISTMAS STORY is probably the best example of this, even though it’s solely about making a meal for immediate family as opposed to an extended family.)

PIECES OF APRIL is one of the few great Thanksgiving films. It focuses on the dichotomy between rural and suburban and urban expectations, of young adults trying to live up to the expectations of being fully-functional adults, even if they have been or currently are fuckups, while attempting to prepare an adult meal for everyone to enjoy, while also being not at all capable of doing so.

I know, because I’ve certainly been there, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

“I’m the first pancake.”

“What?”

“It’s the one you’re supposed to throw out.”

PIECES OF APRIL is a very succinct depiction of a garbage person — April — trying to get better and attempting to mend the mistakes of their past by using food to apologize for her familial transgressions by inviting her suburban family — including her recalcitrant cancer-stricken mother, bitter about her sickness and April’s actions — to a Thanksgiving day trip to her NYC apartment.

“[We’re making] a good memory!”

“What if it’s not?”

“I promise it will be beautiful.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I told her it had to be.”

“And if it’s not?”

“Then I’ll kill her.”

April quickly realizes that her oven doesn’t work and scrambles through her building, looking for someone, anyone, to lend her some oven time to cook her turkey, often only to find doors slammed shut in her face while her boyfriend warmly traipses around the city in order to find an affordable suit to impress April’s parents. Matters escalate.

Katie Holmes is nakedly honest as April, a troubled youth, the black sheep of her family, the eldest of three children. As a youngster she had a penchant for fire and rebellion and when she had the chance, she ran off to New York City and spiraled into a world of drug dealers and even worse behavior.

PIECES OF APRIL is a perfect depiction of urban life, where many folks just want to live anonymously and are hardened by the rough life of an unforgiving city, but also of young misfits realizing what they put their family through, while also aware that they’re leading a very different life than the one that was expected of them.

The distance between myself and my immediate family is vast enough that I’ve never been put through the pressure cooker that April goes through, but as a fucking piece of garbage youth who moved halfway across the country to one of the largest cities in the U.S., and as someone who — along with my then-girlfriend/now-wife — has hosted my fair share of Friendsgivings and has screwed up my fair share of dishes, this film hits hard.

“You’re a bad girl! A very bad girl!”

“…no. I’m not.”

This was a ramshackle labor of love for writer/director Peter Hedges, shot extraordinarily cheaply — he was paid a whopping $20 for his efforts, and most of the cast worked for under $300 a day — Hedges made the most of it. There’s a visual intimacy here, mostly medium shots or close-ups to capture the emotional fraught nature of her family’s trip, as well as the stress April is enduring. Long shots are reserved for when April’s mom — an acerbic Patricia Clarkson — pushes her family away, rejecting the current situation.

Colors are often muted, although I’ve only seen this film via terrible DVD transfers. It might be intentional, an effort to visually cast a pall over the endeavors, but I might be reading too much into that.

While this summary may make this film sound like a downer, ultimately it’s about perseverance, of folks muscling through to try to do better, to give folks second chances, to showcase the grace that others can give others.

Is Thanksgiving fundamentally a fucking terrible holiday, one celebrating colonialism and downright genocide? Yes, yes it is. Is it terrible that so much of the nation overlooks that in favor for stuffing their faces? Yes, yes it is.

(I will note that PIECES OF APRIL does hang a hat on that, albeit not extremely successfully, but narratively and from a character perspective it makes sense.)

However, hosting Thanksgiving dinners is a rite of passage for many. It showcases that you can provide for others, that you can wrangle the many, many courses and dishes in a way that satisfies everyone and everyone can commune around the table and take comfort in one and another.

You’re living in this moment — a tiny one in the long run of your life — of knowing you’ve provided for those you hold dear and, despite the strife and stress and endless planning, you have a communal bonding moment over your rustic culinary efforts, the table a truce place setting, a few hours that are hopefully conflict-free where you can live in an idyllic familial fantasy of grace.

PIECES OF APRIL ends with a montage of photographs, memorializing the day, recording the above feelings for posterity, not just for the family, but also for whatever comes next. It’s a very simple, no-fuss film, but one that resonates with truth and the hardships of willing the endeavor of bringing everyone to the table, of making the effort in service of others. In other words: the perfect Thanksgiving film.

“One April day we’ll go miles away

and I’ll turn to you and say

I’ve always loved you in my way.

I’ll always love you in my way.”

Stephen Merritt

MILLENNIUM: THE CURSE OF FRANK BLACK -S02E06- (1997)

October 31, 2023

CONTENT WARNING

Yet again, I am intentionally breaking the rules I laid out for Horrorclature 2023. This episode of MILLENNIUM involves childhood trauma and suicidal references. This is not a happy or carefree work. However, I feel it’s a singular, important work that deserves to be extolled on the day depicted in the episode: Halloween.

Happy fucking goth Christmas! I hope you’re either all slutted up and partying like there’s no tomorrow — no judgement! Been there, done that! — or cuddled up at home, all warm, surrounded by great, scary works.

If you’ve been following along with this blog, you know that I absolutely love Chris Carter’s MILLENNIUM, specifically the second season when he handed the reigns to James Wong and Glen Morgan (who would go on to help kick off the FINAL DESTINATION franchise).

“Do you ever find yourself talking with the dead?

“Since Willie’s death, I catch myself every day, involuntarily talking with him, as if he were with me.”

Abraham Lincoln — upon the death of his son

There was nothing like it on TV in the mid-to-late 90s. It was astoundingly dark, but had moments of levity. It was super smart, but wasn’t pretentious. It had motherfucking Lance Henriksen as Frank Black, an overly-emotionally sensitive ex-FBI profiler, and LOST’s Terry Quinn as a morally dubious, potentially exploitative head of a quasi-cult.

It is one of my favorite seasons of TV and this episode — The Curse of Frank Black (CURSE going forward) — is one of my favorite episodes from that season.

I know this episode like the back of my hand. I vividly recall my mind being blown when it was first broadcast, and I have revisited it every October for many years now.

CURSE has many of the hallmarks of the best MILLENNIUM episodes: it leans far more on showing rather than telling; there are more than a few scenes where little more than an utterance occurs. It’s extraordinarily visual for network TV at the time. Also, most importantly, it is seriously empathetic. It showcases Frank’s origin story, when he realized he felt too much, felt for people and could read people far more than others. (Hence why he was so great at being an FBI profiler.)

It’s that sense of empathy from a man — who, again, is played by a middle-aged, very craggy Lance Henrickson instead of some young emo 20-something — that is rarely seen on TV. It’s his empathy that undermines his entire life. It’s a trait he inherited from his mother — along with an ability to see the demons and angels that inhabit the world — and it fucks over his career and his marriage and his life. Folks simply do not understand the way he feels, despite the fact that he knows how they feel. Frank is haunted, not just by the demons and angels that he actually sees, but by how much he feels for others.

As noted in the content warning, CURSE takes place almost entirely on Halloweens. One from Frank’s childhood, and one current Halloween. It opens with Frank prepping for Halloween, gutting a pumpkin. Odd events start occurring around him, such as radios turning themselves on or refusing to dial in correctly, electricity going out, and his car sputtering to a stop. All of these events occur around the number ’268’. Frank exits his busted car, runs into kids egging houses, scares them off and then sees his house — the house he and his wife and daughter once were happy in — and he eggs his yellow house himself.

We flashback to when Frank was a youth. He’s dared by friends to trick-or-treat the house of a scary, chain-smoking shut-in who lives at a singular 268 number, Mr. Bob Crocell, played by Dean Winters who has great comedic chops. He is best known right now for being Mayhem in insurance commercials, but also Dennis ‘Beeper King’ Duffy in 30 ROCK, however he was also dramatically great in TERMINATOR: THE SARAH CONNER CHRONICLES. This is not a comedic performance; it is extremely dark.

Crocell is ruminating on his life and just wants to be left alone, but he allows young Frank Black into his abode. He forces Frank to listen to his horrible mental tribulations and his time in the army before he offers him his deserved treat, which is a lone cigarette, and it’s not even a candy cigarette.

Fast-forward a few years: Frank and his friends drive by the house. Crocell is being carted out of his house, dead on a covered stretcher. His friends make light of it, but Frank bluntly remarks about how Crocell was misunderstood.

FRANK: “He killed himself.”

FRIEND: “…yeah, because he couldn’t take being a commie traitor.”

OTHER FRIEND: “He’ll go to Hell for killing himself.”

OTHER FRIEND: “I always heard he, you know, liked men. That’s why he killed women.”

FRANK: “…it’s none of that.”

FRIEND: “How would you know?”

It’s Frank’s empathetic awakening, something that will loom over him for the rest of his life. As someone who has felt too much and felt too hard and felt haunted for so many years, this depiction hits me intensely.

“There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“Tell that to Frank Black.”

There’s one amazingly stark, darkly back-lit scene where Frank enters his attic and sees Crocell there, chain-smoking as usual. Then the ghost-of-Halloween-past (or future, depending on how you look at it) Crocell delivers a monologue that chills Frank:

“I know you’re feeling strange right now kid but, believe me, it’s a hell of a lot creepier for me to be back.

That night, I was so dying to know if the dead can return… if there was anything afterwards, ‘member?

The time when you’re really asking the question and when you really need to know just goes by like — nothin’.

But you know the answer.

Forever.

I’ll tell you this: all that stuff your hear about the fire and the brimstone and the rats and the excrement and the demons tormenting you for all of eternity — there’s none of that stuff.

It’s worse. It is so much worse.

It is for me, at least.

Imagine having to suck on this [cigarette] for all eternity. Man, I wish someone had told me!

Others, they uh— they ain’t got it so bad, I guess. I don’t know. But you’ll know… soon enough.

I’ve been sent here here because you’ve become me.

The way people look at you, what they say about you, making stuff up… pretty soon you come to believe it’s true and then it’s really all over.

You know, I threw things at my house too. Not eggs though. I think I threw dog crap.

Yeah. I threw dog crap from my backyard at my kitchen window.

I never cleaned it off. Imagine that.

The one thing you’ve got that I never did is that you’re getting close to understanding what’s about to happen. And He’s been watching you — uh-huh, oh, yeah — more closely and more often the closer you get.

Here’s the deal, kid. Give up the fight. Sit it out. Forget about this Millennium Group.

Go back to your wife and to your daughter and to your puppy and to your yellow house and just live out a nice, happy, normal life. And there’s gonna be a place for all three of you afterwards.

A place, believe me, where a lot of souls wish they could be.

But you pass on this… and you’re going so much farther than I have ever been.

Hell, the way you gutted that guy who took your wife, the anger inside of you, whoo, I don’t know why you’re not being offered a sweeter deal.

You got the heat inside of you to fight for this side so what I’m asking of you is really simple. Sit back and do nothing. Anyone can do it. Hell, most people do.

Take this deal, kid. Secure you and your family’s future because the time is near, and He will win. There’s no way He can lose!”

Frank then responds:

“When will it happen?”

And Crocell is gone.

It’s a harrowing, sensitive piece, one about empathy and trauma and temptation and complacency and giving up, with a perspective that is rarely seen — even in contemporary prestige TV.

Happy fucking goth Christmas.

TALES FROM THE CRYPT: ON A DEADMAN’S CHEST (1992, S04E03) [RERUN]

August 12, 2023

Reposting this, as I believe it was my first exposure to the recently departed William Friedkin, but not my last. It’s not a great episode, but I will never forget it, just like I’ll never forget Friedkin’s work. The man knew what he wanted to do, and he was unwilling to compromise, and he will be missed.

TALES FROM THE CRYPT: ON A DEADMAN’S CHEST (1992, S04E03)

MANHATTAN (2014-2015) [RERUN]

July 21, 2023

I’ve been a bit burned out due some of the intensity of the drafts I’ve been working on so, since OPPENHEIMER was just released, I thought I’d call your attention to my 2020 post regarding MANHATTAN, the little-known series from WGN America who very briefly broadcast a number of critical acclaimed prestige shows, including UNDERGROUND as well as MANHATTAN.

MANHATTAN tells the tale of the nucleus of the creation of the atom bomb and the environment and folks it took to construct it. Essentially: OPPENHEIMER before OPPENHEIMER.

MANHATTAN featured an embarrassment of creative riches, including an astounding cast and writers, such as Rachel Brosnahan (THE MARVELOUS MRS. MAISEL), Harry Lloyd (DOCTOR WHO, GAME OF THRONES), Olivia Williams (RUSHMORE), as well as writer Lila Byock who has since gone on to work on amazing serialized works such as THE LEFTOVERS and WATCHMEN and CASTLE ROCK.

It’s a shame that the show never garnered the attention it deserved, but WGN America gave us two seasons, which is one more than I thought we’d ever get.

While my initial write-up is several years old, it’s still available on a number of the streaming services listed, and both seasons are available on DVD.

MANHATTAN (2014-2015)

NEEDFUL THINGS (1993)

October 18, 2022

(DVD/VOD) NEEDFUL THINGS is a Stephen King novel I can’t recall reading, but the film has stuck in my mind since I watched it many years ago, mostly because it’s extremely chaotic for King, but also exceedingly devious in more ways than one.

It’s probably not quantifiably good, but it is a lot of fun. It reminds me of FRIDAY THE 13TH: THE SERIES and features Max von Sydow as the devil; what more could you ask for?!

BOXING HELENA (1993)

October 6, 2022

(DVD) I had the following (slightly paraphrased) discussion with my wife the day after a triple feature of Sherilyn Fenn films at Chicago’s Music Box Theatre:

Me: “Oh, and I caught [Jennifer Lynch’s] BOXING HELENA, a mostly unseen NC-17 cut, which I can’t reliably compare to the original because I haven’t seen it since I was a sophomore in college.”

Her: “Really? I thought you’d seen it several times over, because you talk about it a lot.”

I repeatedly discuss and write a lot about a lot of cult films, obviously, hence this site. Didn’t think that was the case with BOXING HELENA, an extraordinarily controversial and unpopular film from Jennifer Lynch (yes, the daughter of David Lynch) that has never received any sort of resurgence of interest, but apparently pulled a pin in me some time ago.

I first saw it on VHS, on a tiny TV in my college dorm room, and was blown away. I hadn’t paid any attention to the production issues of Kim Basinger taking herself out of the picture (https://ew.com/article/1993/04/09/boxing-helenas-controversies/), but I vaguely recall folks protesting the film because of the depiction of men’s violence against women.

Ah, yes, the 90s, when folks got upset about women telling meaningful tales about women being abused. The New York Times review explicitly said: “If Jennifer Lynch wants a real challenge in life, she should try to make a movie with a positive, feminist theme. Now, there’s an unconventional movie.”

If you aren’t familiar with the storied film: Helena (Sherilyn Finn) a willful, brusque, extraordinarily independent model, has a one-night stand with rich, celebrated genius doctor Nick (Julian Sands). He remains infatuated with her, ignoring his current girlfriend, and Helena continues leading a pleasantly sexually autonomous life.

Nick orchestrates a major party, invites Helena, who has already decided to ditch her current dirtbag (a very shaggy, shitheel, rock-and-roller Bill Paxton) and take a solo trip to Mexico — booking the trip in Spanish — but decides to swing by Nick’s party the night prior.

At said party, she consistently shrugs off Nick’s advances, shoving all sorts of personal items — including her purse — into his hands for him to babysit, then Helena knowingly takes one of Nick’s younger fellow doctors, strips to a slip, and enthralls herself in Nick’s opulent water fountain. After toweling off, she then takes Nick’s co-worker by his arm and leads him out the front door, looking over her shoulder as he meekly stares at her; it’s a very obvious ‘fuck you’ to Nick, practically shouting: “This is what happens when you endlessly pursue what I will no longer allow you to have.”

Unfortunately, Helena finds herself at the airport sans her purse. She rings Nick and demands that he drive to the airport and return it, which he does, but is severely late in doing so. She checks the contents and finds her address book missing. Nick convinces her to head back to his house so he can find it, and she has no choice but to comply. Upon arrival, Nick has laid out an elaborate lunch, pours her a drink, then after Helena’s increased anger, he unveils the address book as one would unveil a prized meal. She grabs the book, storms out of the house and, while backing away from him while berating him, she’s brutally struck down by a reckless driver, who then subsequently drives over her legs.

Next we see Helena in a guest bed of Nick’s, legless. It all goes downhill from there.

As I’m an able male, I don’t have the background to discuss many of the particulars. However, it is a striking and singular work about want and forced complicity at any cost.

The end, unfortunately, is a bit of a dodge, but given where the film goes, how far it dives, I can’t blame Jennifer Lynch for taking that approach.