Posts by David Annandale

When Terence Malick's latest effort hit the theatres, he had trimmed it down to 135 minutes. Early critics had seen a version running 150 minutes. This version is longer yet, clocking it at 172 minutes. Most of what I said about the previous DVD release holds, and so I'm reproducing it here, with additional comments as necessary.

Ishiro Honda is, of course, best known and (deservedly) beloved for his classic kaiju eiga: he not only directed the first appearances of Godzilla, Rodan, and Mothra, he also delivered many of their subsequent adventures, wrapping things up with 1975's Terror of Mechagodzilla, which would be the last such entry until the mid-80s revival. The high profile of the giant monster movies has a tendency to overshadow some of this other contributions to fantastic cinema. One such effort which shouldn't be overlooked is the inventive and grim Matango (1963).

Behind the on-screen title of 1968 Tunnel Rats lurks a vision of Hell. We first get to know a unit of American soldiers tasked with clearing out the networks of underground tunnels constructed by the Viet Cong. Even before the action shifts to the tunnels, the terrible toll of war is on display, with the Lieutenant (Michael Paré) ordering brutal executions and morale very low. Then the operation begins, and everything goes to horribly wrong very quickly.

Released just in time for the global financial meltdown, this hymn to designer products features Isla Fisher, who demonstrated her comedic talent by stealing Wedding Crashers from both Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson – no small achievement. Here she plays Rebecca Bloomwood, a compulsive shopper who, while hoping to land a job working at a fashion magazine, accidentally finds herself hired on a columnist at the sister publication, a rather less glamorous financial mag. Her columns, couching financial advice in shopping metaphors, become a surprising hit, and sparks begin to fly with her editor (Hugh Dancy). Meanwhile, a relentless debt collector is dogging her heels.

In a village where there is a great deal of time (there are months whose days are numbered in the 40s), the local witch gives birth to the title character. Twenty years later, Babine is the Village Idiot. Though he is a thoroughly gentle soul, he also becomes the scapegoat for every ill, real or imagined, that befalls the villagers. Fortunately, he has some champions, including Toussaint Brodeur (played by director Luc Picard), the local fly-raiser. But then the church burns down, and terrible trouble looms for Babine in the person of the new, fanatical village priest.

As I believe I may have mentioned before, I'm of an age that meant I was too young to actually attend any grindhouses in their 70s heyday, though I'm old enough to remember them. When I did come of age in the 80s, the VHS and Beta war was in full swing, video rental stores were sprouting like mushrooms, and the hunger for product on the shelves, any product, was insatiable. Those were the days when people actually rented VCRs, and Mom-and-Pop stores proudly offered the likes of Microwave Massacre, Screamers and The Beast Within for rental. This was the era of distributors like Key Video, Magnum, and many, many more, all with processed cheese computer graphic logos.

Aging senator James Stewart and wife Vera Miles arrive in the prosperous town of Shinbone to attend the funeral of an anonymous farmer. The local newsmen want to know why. Stewart tells the story. Cue the flashback, where he arrives in a much more anarchic Shinbone as a naïve lawyer. Held up and beaten by the brutal outlaw Liberty Valance (a psychotic Lee Marvin), he is determined by bring law and justice to the town, but must come to terms with the fact that he cannot do so without the gun of John Wayne (the aforementioned farmer).

Yul Brynner is the titular Catlow, a jovial outlaw rounding up maverick cattle, much to the consternation of cattle barons who feel the strays belong to them. Richard Crenna is Ben Cowan, Catlow's best friend but also a federal Marshal, who is tasked with arresting Catlow. Leonard Nimoy is the hired gun whose task is rather more lethal. Catlow and Cowan spar good-naturedly as the former plans to steal a great deal of gold in Mexico, which will have many other people annoyed with him.

Some weeks back, I wrote about Splinter, and opined that director Toby Wilkins showed real skill. I also expressed worry over the fact that this follow-up was this, the third entry in a franchise that began with a remake in the first place. So here we are. Was I right to worry? Sadly, yes.

Suspiria.

Oldboy.

Videodrome.

Three powerful and rather nasty films. More importantly, they are also very much the individual, personal works of film auteurs with a distinct vision. Suspiria even has a family history aspect, since it was inspired by experiences of co-writer Dario Nicolodi's mother. The other element these three films have in common is that they all have remakes coming down the pike.