The Screengrab : ridley scott

DVD Digest for February 17, 2009

Paul Clark — Tue, 17 Feb 2009 15:00:00 GMT

This week, if you’re lucky enough to be getting some stimulus money, read this column to figure how to use some of it to help build up your collection of movies on DVD and Blu-Ray. And if you’re not getting any money, you can at least see what you’ll be missing.

This week’s highest-profile recent release coming to DVD is the teen sensation High School Musical 3, available in a new “Extended Edition” from Disney on standard-definition and Blu-Ray. Other big-ticket releases this week include Ridley Scott’s Body of Lies (Warner, also Blu-Ray), Angelina Jolie in Clint Eastwood’s Changeling (Universal, also Blu-Ray), and the horror double feature Quarantine (Sony, also Blu-Ray) and The Midnight Meat Train (Lionsgate, also Blu-Ray). Also this week: Sam Rockwell in Choke (Fox); Greg Kinnear in Flash of Genius (Universal); Bill Maher pulling a Morgan Spurlock in Religulous (Lionsgate); Simon Pegg in How to Lose Friends and Alienate People (MGM); and Jiri Menzel’s I Served the King of England (Sony).

In classics, this week brings Warner’s “The Paul Newman Series”, which includes five first-time DVD appearances of five Newman films- his directorial debut Rachel, Rachel, plus The Silver Chalice, The Helen Morgan Story, The Outrage, and When Time Ran Out…. Also this week, Criterion is releasing David Lean’s Hobson’s Choice, and single-film re-pressings of two more John Cassavetes films, Faces and Shadows. And let’s not forget the High School Musical Remix Edition (Disney), for those kids who can’t get enough High School Musical.

This week’s TV on DVD releases include a pair of basic cable rerun favorites, Law & Order: Special Victims Unit Eighth Year (Universal), and Murder, She Wrote Season 9 (Universal).

Finally, this week’s Blu-Ray only releases include a trio from Sony of Oscar favorites: the Best Picture winning Gandhi and Kramer vs. Kramer, and a package deal that includes both Capote and In Cold Blood. Also this week, just in time for Lent- The Passion of the Christ Definitive Edition (Fox).

Morning Deal Report: Aaron Eckhart Hits the Rum

Scott Von Doviak — Tue, 10 Feb 2009 14:30:00 GMT

Aaron Eckhart and Oscar nominee Richard Jenkins are the latest to join the cast of Rum Diary, adapted from the novel by Hunter S. Thompson. Johnny Depp and Amber Heard are already aboard. Diary “is the tale of a washed-up, hard-drinking journalist named Paul Kemp (Depp) in 1950s Puerto Rico. Eckhart would play Sanderson, a wealthy landowner who believes everything has a price and introduces Kemp to a different standard of living,” per The Hollywood Reporter.

Russell Crowe’s Robin Hood may have a new Maid Marian. Liz Smith reports in Variety that “Cate Blanchett (she can play anything!) will take over the Maid Marian role in Ridley Scott's Robin Hood movie titled Nottingham. They decided Sienna Miller was too young for their Robin, the somewhat rotund, weighty and contentious Russell Crowe.” So Crowe is both rotund and weighty, which means Miller is too young for him. Makes sense.

Queen of mumblecore Greta Gerwig “has landed the lead role opposite Ben Stiller in the latest Noah Baumbach relationship dramedy,” per THR. The plot of the film, entitled Greenberg, is “under wraps, but it is expected to be set in L.A. and center on relationship intimacies in the manner of past Baumbach pictures.”

Related:
Russell Crowe Will Not Wear Tights
Greta Gerwig and the SXSW Invasion

Morning Deal Report: Green Lantern Powers Up

Scott Von Doviak — Thu, 05 Feb 2009 15:00:00 GMT

Casino Royale director Martin Campbell is in negotiations to helm a live-action version of the DC comics staple Green Lantern for Warner Bros. The power ring-wearing superhero is now “at the top of DC properties being set for movie treatment by WB,” Variety reports. “While the studio is hoping director Chris Nolan will follow its 2008 smash The Dark Knight with another Batfilm, DC projects such as Superman and Justice League were expected to happen quickly, but have stalled.” Aquaman – dissed again.

While we’re talking superhero movies, it looks like Ben Stiller and Tina Fey have joined Robert Downey, Jr. for another one – and it’s not Iron Man 2. The trio is “in negotiations to lead the voice cast for DreamWorks Animation's superhero lark Master Mind…The satiric film, with a screenplay by Alan J. Schoolcraft and Brent Simons, concerns a brilliant superhero villain who loses his life's purpose when he accidentally kills his good-guy nemesis,” per The Hollywood Reporter.

While Ridley Scott is allegedly interested in bring Monopoly to the screen, another board game has beat the venerable classic to the punch. Yes, it’s everyone’s very first board game, Candy Land. Etan Cohen (Tropic Thunder) will write the script and Kevin Lima (Enchanted) will direct. I’m still holding out for Scorsese's Don’t Spill the Beans: The Movie.

Related:
Comic Book Legends
Parcheesi: The Movie

Morning Deal Report: The A-Team and Lara Croft Report For Duty

Scott Von Doviak — Wed, 28 Jan 2009 15:00:00 GMT

So there I was getting all worked up over the notion of a Bonnie and Clyde remake starring Hilary Duff, and right behind my back Joe Carnahan and Ridley Scott were putting together a big-screen version of The A-Team. “Fox has struggled to find a way to exploit the branded TV show while avoiding the series' campy tone,” Variety reports, and if that doesn’t get your hopes up, nothing will. “Carnahan and the Scott brothers say they will use the original premise of the series as the template for an action film. In the original, four Vietnam vets convicted of armed robbery escape from military prison and became do-gooder mercenaries. The Middle East will replace Vietnam as the place the four did their tour of duty, but Carnahan said the origin story is the jumping-off point.” Honestly, I don’t know how to feel about that – I’m waiting for Dirk Benedict to tell me.

I guess the only thing that would top that would be another Lara Croft movie. But that will never happen, right? Right? “Warners Bros. and producer Dan Lin are in early development on a a reboot of Tomb Raider, the popular video game action franchise,” per The Hollywood Report. “The new project, however, is expected to revamp the character and her mission and bear little resemblance to the original pictures. It will reimagine the origins of the character, her love interest and the main villain.” That means no Angelina Jolie, kiddies.

What do Truman Capote and Steve McQueen have in common? Dueling biopics, of course. We already told you about this one, but now “producer David Foster (The Mask of Zorro) unveiled plans that he is spearheading a project based on a memoir penned by McQueen's first wife, Neile McQueen Toffel,” Variety reports.

Related:
How Tom Cruise Became Angelina Jolie
Yesterday's Hits: The Towering Inferno

Trailer Review: State of Play

Paul Clark — Fri, 09 Jan 2009 17:00:00 GMT

I’ve heard plenty of good things about the BBC mini-series upon which this movie was based. However, judging by the trailer, most of what made the original so compelling was lost in translation, because what I see here looks like a standard-issue journalism/conspiracy thriller. Lots of shadowy figures, bodies turning up, old friendships gone sour, and so on. But then, perhaps it’s just emblematic of Hollywood’s need to fit long-form stories into a neat two-hour framework, which requires removing the nuances and everything that makes them really work in the interest of keeping the story movie. But if nothing else, I’m glad to see Russell Crowe playing the lead again, after a handful of high-profile second banana roles in Ridley Scott movies. All of the bad press that has circled around him in recent years (following the phone incident) had the unfortunate effect of causing people to forget what a fine actor he is, and I’m holding out hope that State of Play will remind them.

Culture in the Bush Years: A Time of Black Hawks, Battlestars, and Borat

Phil Nugent — Mon, 15 Dec 2008 17:00:00 GMT

So Newsweek asked a bunch of folks to select one cultural artifact from the past eight years that "exemplifies what it was like to be alive in the age of George W. Bush." Nobody picked W., thank God--instead, there were votes for a Jeff Koons knickknack ("Much as the Bush administration has waved off an intimacy with Big Oil and professed down-home empathy for regular "folks," Koons likes to pretend that he's not an avatar of irony for billionaire collectors.") and Jonathan Franzen's The Corrections, the long-in-the-writing novel that dropped weeks before September 11, 2001, and which "conjures up a nation kept awake at night by nameless dread."--but a few movies did slip by the guy at the door. Specifically, Black Hawk Down, Ridley Scott's re-staging of the Battle of Mogadishu (based on the nonfiction book by Mark Bowden) and Borat, Sacha Baron Cohen's road trip through an America that had just started reconsidering whether this all-hail-the-retarded-boy-king business was really the best defense against national decline.

In this context, they do make for an intriguing double bill. Black Hawk Down, which was made before 9/11 but released some four months later, is about a mission that, at the time, was widely used as Exhibit A by politicians and pundits who wanted to denounce the Clinton administration for its use of military intervention overseas in the name of "nation building." But the movie itself was a hit with many supporters of the Bush administration's plans to spread democracy in the Middle East by kicking ass and taking names. It was also a big success with Somali audiences who turned out in mass numbers to cheer the sight of American soldiers getting blown to pieces. However you want to take the ironies involved, none of these reactions are surprising, nor are the testimonies of soldiers, including those who've been to Iraq, that the movie captures how it feels to be under fire. Scott achieved the movie's visceral effectiveness by eliminating anything that might get in the way of it, including historical and political context and even much in the way of character definition. The movie includes a number of fine actors, but it's all boiled down to the sensory overload of creating how it feels to get shot at, over and over and over, from every direction. So it's no wonder that different audiences would decide who they should be rooting for based on which non-characters look more like them, and also no wonder that the film, which features a predominately white U.S. military, had to endure charges of racism from both Somalis and American writers. For all its technical mastery, the movie goes charging too scarily far in the direction of other Jerry Bruckheimer productions, whose only intent is to make you raise a fist and go, "Whooo!" Five years later, Borat, which was the number one movie in America around the time that the president's party took a battering in the 2006 midterm elections, made that triumphant war whoop sound like a cry for help. It's a candid snapshot of a country that seems populated with people who want to dazzle the world with their indomitable swagger but who reveal the depths of their insecurity with how badly they take being teased. (The movie made headlines while it was in production with stories that Baron Cohen had barely escaped from a Texas rodeo with his life after daring to mangle the National Anthem, and it says a lot that the rodeo organizers seemed, if anything, more eager to brag about how hot-tempered their audience was than the filmmakers.)

Still, a lot of people of a geekish bent will agree with Joshua Alston that no movie released during the war president's time in office quite caught the national mood as well as a small-screen offering, Battlestar Galactica, which Alston hails for presenting "a world that looks nothing like our own, and yet evokes it with chilling accuracy." Alston also scores a direct hit when comparing it to 24, "with its neocon fantasies of terrorists who get chatty if Jack Bauer pokes the right pressure point. Of the two shows, Battlestar has been more honest about the psychological toll of the war on terror. It confronts the thorny issues that crop up in a society's battle to preserve its way of life: the efficacy of torture, the curtailing of personal rights, the meaning of patriotism in a nation under siege. It also doesn't flinch from one question that 24 wouldn't dare raise: is our way of life even worth saving? Plus, the guy who looks like John McCain turned out to be a robot. How's that for prophecy!?

Screengrab's Top Guilty Pleasures (Part Five)

Andrew Osborne — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 23:00:00 GMT

VADIM RIZOV'S GUILTY PLEASURES:

HEALTH (1980)

A lot of Altman films have bad reputations, at least among non-believers, but HealtH was legendarily deemed unreleasable; planned for a release during the 1980 presidential election, it didn't play anywhere before it was finally let into a grudging run at New York's Film Forum in 1982; it's subsequently plunged into obscurity, seen only in extremely rare revivals and occasionally on the Fox Movie Channel. A memorably facile regular charge against Altman is that he did little more than cluster people together and occasionally zoom in; HealtH basically is that movie, but if you enjoy Altman, it's a blast. A naked attempt to update Nashville for the 1980 election, HealtH's political commentary is just as weak as that of Nashville, with less density to cover it up. Kent Jones once wrote that Altman's "tendency ... to go systematic" almost killed this movie, but if you enjoy that process on top of little more than a string of verbal and visual non sequiturs (my favorite: a guy in a tomato costume — don't ask — jumping into a pool for no good reason), it's well worth tracking down. Truly a fans-only effort.

KILLA SEASON (2006)

I guess I'm kind of ridiculously humorless, because the whole idea of "guilty pleasures" strikes me as part of the reason people are getting dumber: it's easier to recognize bad material, sit back and mock it than try to engage with anything serious and remotely challenging. For some people, the whole genre of "guilty pleasures" takes over entirely from the non-guilty kind and they surrender. Which is fair enough if you're working a demanding job or have a tough life and don't really care about movies and just want the laughs. But if you have the time and leisure (unemployment induced or otherwise) to want a guilty pleasure that actively challenges your endurance, say hello to Cam'ron's directorial debut Killa Season. Not technically a direct-to-video film (limited tri-state area screenings were scheduled for its release), Cam'ron's endless ode to gangsta life begins with a back-alley craps game which turns into a man getting whacked over the head with an empty bottle for a minor betting infraction, then everyone cheering as Cam'ron pisses all over him while chanting "No homo." Killa Season's main achievement is being consistently morally depraved and technically incompetent at all times. If the amateur videography and dialogue that makes mumblecore sound like the snappiest film noir you ever saw (Juelz Santana: "They trying to take over the block"; cut to random guy: "Yo, let's take over the block") aren't enough to entice you, stay for levels of moral filth surpassing Salo. For sheer grossness, the close-ups of coke pellets being shat out by mules are hard to beat, but less-extreme scenes like the ones where Cam'ron spits on a little girl are constantly forthcoming. At well over two hours, Killa Season will make you question your dedication to unintentional hilarity. Me, I watch it once a year.

TRANSPORTER 2 (2005)

Transporter 2 treats real-world physics with less precision than your average Looney Tunes cartoon. Over the course of Louis Leterrer's film, Jason Statham, when not systematically evading and defeating various goons and hirelings (including a hired assassinatrix who, for good kinky measure, shoots up a hospital in her lingerie — Transporter 2 defeats subtext by being even dumber than you'd expect) — consistently test-drives cars in ways I've never seen. My favorite is when, to get rid of a time-bomb on the car's underside, Statham's character hooks it on a construction crane as part of a perfect 360 that lands him on the opposite roof just as the bomb explodes. But there's also the completely nonsensical climactic fight, where Statham and his Euro-foe (Alessandro Grassman) duke it out, bullets and all, while a plane plummets into the ocean, and even after. With such sublime visions of human possibility, why carp about the real world? There's also a smaller pleasure here: anyone fond of the Europudding productions of the '70s — where a bunch of awkwardly accented actors were brought together into an under-written film calculated for nothing so much as maximum exploitation of every country the cast came from — should dig the awkward polyglot cast. When Grassman hisses (in relation to his evil plot to disseminate air toxins) "That's right. Breathe, my friend, breathe" — well, if you're not amused, I can't help you.

HANNIBAL (2001)

The Silence Of The Lambs is a well-crafted and compelling film, but it's basically kind of a drag: with every year, the sexual tensions driving Buffalo Bill seem a little less compelling and defensible, and the sexism card seems like more of a time capsule. Hannibal, on the other hand, is just stupid. Although Ridley Scott's come a long way since Alien, it takes a truly brain-dead mind to settle on his unique way of expressing conflict. When Hannibal's on, the "Goldberg Variations" play; when his nemesis (Gary Oldman) is chewing the screen, the "Blue Danube" plays. And when they meet, they both play at the same time. Hannibal is mostly remembered for its final gross-out brain-eating scene, but it offers more than that: if the sexism seems a little dated in Silence, the leering misogyny of Ray Liotta here is entirely, uh, Liotta-esque, and the constant shots of Florence are pretty without getting all Merchant-Ivory.

Click Here For More Guilt From Andrew Osborne, Scott Von Doviak, Leonard Pierce, Hayden Childs & Sarah Clyne Sundberg

Contributor: Vadim Rizov

Russell Crowe Will Not Wear Tights

Scott Von Doviak — Mon, 10 Nov 2008 18:00:00 GMT

As Body of Lies opens in Britain, The Independent interviews the always genial Russell Crowe, who opens up about his deeply introspective acting process. “ ‘Preparation? I picked up a bag, I put a pair of underwear in it and I got on a plane. There you go – preparation done,’ he says, slapping his hands together. ‘How many times have you seen me do it in the last 20 years? A lot. Whatever the character needs, I'll get to that point. It's no big deal. I was at 88 kilos when Ridley called and asked if I'd mind putting on a load of weight. I was at 117 kilos when the movie started, and I've been coming down slowly. I'm at about 95 kilos at the moment, maybe a little less.’”

Crowe remained bulky for his role in the upcoming State of Play, a big screen remake of the BBC miniseries. Crowe signed up when Brad Pitt abandoned the project. (Pitt does that a lot, doesn’t he?) He’ll shed the pounds for his dual role as the Sheriff and Robin Hood in Ridley Scott’s upcoming Nottingham. “The world doesn't need a mundane version of Robin Hood. If we're gonna do it, we've got to kick some serious butt. I've loved Robin Hood since I was a kid, but when the idea came up and they gave me this script, I said, 'Look, I don't like this. This doesn't work. It's not good enough.' But the idea of Robin Hood? For sure. I spent 10 months just reading Robin Hood books – the history, the mythology, the original ballads, the legend – and then you've got 100 years of cinematic history as well. So this has got to be the best one ever done, otherwise I should be doing something else."

Crowe adds: "I will not wear tights because according to our research they weren't invented for another 300 years. I apologise to you all – and to Sienna Miller."

If the whole “dual role” thing strikes you as a little odd, you aren’t alone. Writing in The Guardian, James Anthony express some concern: “I'm all for actors playing dual roles. It has worked in several films where it has thematic relevance. But Crowe's ego precedes him, and it's tempting to believe he just wants to share screen time with himself.”

Related:
Sienna Miller in the Hood
When Good Directors Go Bad: 1492: Conquest of Paradise (1992, Ridley Scott)

Visions of Change: Cinematic Utopias & Worst Case Scenarios (Part Three)

Andrew Osborne — Thu, 06 Nov 2008 23:00:00 GMT

THE ROAD WARRIOR (1981)

Before he went all screwy on us (or, rather, before we discovered how screwy he’d apparently always been), Mel Gibson starred in The Road Warrior (a.k.a. Mad Max 2), just about the purest (and best) action film ever made. By the end of 1979’s Mad Max, things are already pretty bleak for Gibson’s titular character, an ex-cop whose family and best friend have all been killed by anarchic speed demon terrorists. But things are much worse in the sequel: society has broken down completely, people are killing and dying for petrol and for some reason everyone is required to wear football shoulder pads. Our protagonist has become a leather-clad man with no name, roaming the Outback with only a dog (who, like anyone else that gets too cozy with Gibson’s character, is doomed from the start). Eventually, Max’s need for fossil fuel forces him to choose between a bunch of dirty socialists living family-style in a fortified compound and Lord Humungus’ torture-loving, not-gay-at-all free market enthusiasts, who spread democracy with cool wrist-mounted crossbows. The film’s fuel-depleted landscape is a wonderland for plucky, self-sufficient mavericks who like to shoot things from helicopters (or, more specifically, gyro-copters), but like most totally cool, under-populated places where you don’t have to think about anyone but yourself, the pedal-to-the-metal, smash-and-grab wasteland freedom of The Road Warrior eventually gives way to the pesky forces of civilization (complete with charismatic black leader) in 1985’s Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome.

LOST HORIZON (1973)

It’s a cliché to say that one man’s utopia is another man’s dystopia; the only way to make it interesting is to show us why. Lost Horizon, a 1973 remake of a 1937 classic, sets out to show us how even the best human intentions can make a Hell of Heaven, and it certainly succeeds, but not in the way it intends. Instead of illustrating its point by skillfully telling how a group of outsiders come to Shangri-La and spoil its utopian purity with their unchecked desires, it illustrates the concept of a dystopia by being a really, really shitty movie. It’s hard to know exactly what the worst thing about this stink-bomb of a musical is: is it the crappy songs, surely the worst things ever to have Burt Bacharach’s name attached? Is it the bad acting from bad actors, or the worse acting from good actors? Is it Charles Jarrott’s incompetent directing, Larry Kramer’s wildly stupid screenplay, or producer Ross Hunter’s ability to spend gobs of money on a movie that looks absolutely terrible? Yeah, those are all good candidates, but for our money, the worst part is the decision to make it a singing, dancing musical and then cast people in it – the corpselike Peter Finch, the ungulate Liv Ullman, the bombed-out-of-her-mind Sally Kellerman, and the completely lost George Kennedy – who have no apparent ability to dance or sing. Let’s not even get into Bobby Van. Long unavailable for home audiences, Lost Horizon is a so-bad-it’s-just-incredibly-bad classic that screams for a DVD release.

BLADE RUNNER (1982)

Movies have shown us a near infinite number of futuristic dystopias, but few of them have seemed as plausible as the Los Angeles of 2019 in Ridley Scott’s sci-fi masterpiece. Heavy enough is the basic plot, which is the stepping stone to all sorts of explorations on the nature of memory, the meaning of freedom, and what it is to be human: in the near future, big corporations provide humanity with perfect duplicates, android servants who do our dirty work so that we can have lives of luxury. What makes them not human, and what will happen if they decide that being human is just what they want, even if it means their own destruction? But beyond that, there are eerie convocations of class, race, and wealth that seem eerily relevant today: the future L.A. is populated with losers. Those with money and connections – save for the corporate masters who stay behind to manufacture the androids – have left earth for a cushy life in the outer space colonies, while the rabble remain behind. Scott’s masterful imagination of the futuristic city is stunningly evocative: an ethnic mélange, a collision of fashions and cultures, sex and violence around every corner, crooked cops and criminals alike speaking a curious language that is an amalgam of dozens of immigrant voices. The losers live by scrounging, while the winners sit in remote towers above them. The vision of a dystopic futuristic metropolis as imagined by Scott (and Philip K. Dick) was so compelling that Blade Runner later became a founding document of the cyberpunk movement.

SLACKER (1991)

Here's the thing about utopias: your ideal society may not look a whole hell of a lot like mine. Yours may resemble the Garden of Eden, perhaps with a chocolate river running through it, but mine probably looks a lot like Richard Linklater's no-budget 1991 debut Slacker. Here's a magical land full of interesting people, and you don't have to spend more than two minutes with any of them. It's a bohemian crazy quilt of coffee houses, bars, rock clubs and used book stores crammed with conspiracy literature, a laid-back enclave percolating with oddball creativity, where time has no meaning. When I first moved to Austin more than a dozen years ago, hardly a day went by that I didn't run into Ultimate Loser at the Continental Club or Been on the Moon Since the Fifties on the hike and bike trail, and it was almost – but not quite – as if I'd found myself living in the movie. (One of the characters nearly punched me in the eye for hitting on his girlfriend, which is a nice memory to have now, if not so much fun then.) Austin is still a cool place to live, all things considered, but it's changed so much since then that Slacker is almost a relic; you could make a drinking game out of spotting the locations that have since been supplanted by condos or Starbucks. Still, it's nice to know I can still visit that place any time I want just by cueing up the Slacker DVD.

V FOR VENDETTA (2005)

The fascist England of Alan Moore’s graphic novel, upon which the James McTeigue film was based, was a very British affair: tawdry, dirty, steeped in a very 1930s understanding of totalitarianism and suffused with an English sense of racial purity. The film did what such films always do – it took liberties. (Which is why Alan Moore refuses to have anything to do with film adaptations of his work.) Gone was a the filthy, hardscrabble Orwellian vision of a nearby dystopia, triggered by an unexplained nuclear exchange: in its place was a very modern authoritarian state, its parallels to Bush’s America as blaring and obvious as Moore’s references to Thatcher’s England were subtle and quiet. The great dictator is transformed from a hard, driven, religious man to a cartoonish supervillain appearing on giant screens as if he were a James Bond nemesis; his right-hand man is transformed from an advantage-taking careerist to a sneering Dick Cheney type; nuclear conflict becomes terrorism, blacks lose their status as the scapegoat of choice to Muslims; and, in a choice that painfully subverts the intent of the original, the state’s highest crime isn’t oppression, it’s deceit. In the absence of the fascist trappings, and the obvious references to modern society (completely with the recreation of state propaganda with talk-show blathering), the story loses much of its muscle. But the terrorist V remains a powerful symbol, and a memorable scene where police inspector Stephen Rea dispassionately explains, like a man who’s seen it happen a dozen times before, how state authority easily gets out of hand, is a compelling vision of the simple corruption of power.

Click Here For Part One, Part Two & Part Four

Contributors: Andrew Osborne, Leonard Pierce, Scott Von Doviak

Screengrab Presents: The 25 Greatest Horror Films of All Time (Part Four)

Andrew Osborne — Thu, 30 Oct 2008 21:30:00 GMT

10. THE FLY (1986)

Horror movies, contrary to the claims of highfalutin critics like us, don’t necessarily have to be about anything. If they’re scary and well-made and don’t insult your intelligence, just being a good horror movie is enough. But when they are about something, especially in the hands of a storyteller of the depth and intelligence of David Cronenberg, they transcend genre and become something truly special. Cronenberg took a popular pulp story by George Langelaan, which had been filmed once before as a pretty straightforward monster movie in the 1950s, and remade it as a terrific modern-day horror flick, complete with terrifically suspenseful moments and plenty of nauseating fluids for the grindhouse crowd – but he also infused it with a powerful undercurrent of extremely personal terror. The Fly, carried on the hair-sprouting, wing-bearing back of Jeff Goldblum’s greatest performance, is one of the finest movies ever made about the betrayal of the body: in the story of a scientist who is transformed into an insect-like creature, Cronenberg manages to isolate not only the horror, but also the loneliness, the helplessness, and the frustration of the sick and the dying. When Brundlefly is finally dispatched at the movie’s end, the pervasive feeling isn’t one of revenge, or relief – it’s one of terrible sadness.

9. CARNIVAL OF SOULS (1962)

Half a dozen years before George A. Romero went to work re-creating the movie zombie for all time, this film, directed on a shoestring budget by Herk Harvey (with members of a filmmaking team that the Lawrence, Kansas-based Harvey used in his principal business making educational and industrial films) just about invented the modern concept of the independent horror movie, as well as doing its bit to fuzz the line between art film and amateur hour. The first and just about the last film to feature its star, Candace Hilligoss, with Harvey as the most notable of the ghouls who begin to haunt her, it has a dreamy, disconnected quality that may not have been entirely planned but that is especially well-suited to a story that may or may not be happening, about a heroine who may or may not have survived the car accident that opens the film. In fact, parts of Carnival of Souls come as close as any pre-'70s film to anticipating the world of David Lynch -- which makes you wonder if it's a coincidence that Hilligoss' character's name, Mary Henry, contains the names of the central male and female characters of Eraserhead.

8. BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1935)

The 1931 Frankenstein wasn't the first film inspired by Mary Shelley's novel, and it sure wasn't the last, but its imagery was so perfect and powerful -- the shambling monster with the squared-off head, the boxy flat-top and the jacket with the sleeves too short -- that it imprinted itself on the imaginations of generations of viewers, so much so that no later version of the monster ever really looks quite right. This sequel was put together by the same key personnel who worked on the first film -- the director, James Whale, Boris Karloff as the monster and the high-strung Colin Clive as the mad scientist -- but Whale, a campy, stylish wit who would later be played by Ian McKellan in the 1998 Gods and Monsters, really let his dark sense of humor off the leash in this one, resulting in a film that sympathizes with the monster to such a degree that the creature's rallying cry, "I love dead! Hate living!" and his final kiss-off line, after his rejection at the hands of the title figure (Elsa Lanchester), "We belong dead," take on the quality of anthems. Underneath the film's knowing silliness is a genuine, tender regard for those who cannot find love or acceptance in this world, and what greater horror could there be?

7. THE EXORCIST (1973)

William Friedkin’s adaptation of William Peter Blatty’s best-selling novel isn’t the best movie on this list. The Shining is a greater artistic accomplishment; Psycho is a more important film; The Fly is more meaningful. But for my money, there’s no movie on this list that’s scarier, and isn’t that the whole point of a horror movie? The movie that utterly terrified me as an adolescent still has the potential to give me nightmares as an adult; Friedkin makes judicious use of timing and tone to keep you just interested enough to be alert when the real horror starts, and once it does, he keeps up a mood of sustained menace, ranging from the suggestive to the utterly brutal, that never lets up. In less competent hands, The Exorcist could have degenerated into a boring morass of overblown theatrics and incomprehensible theology – which is exactly what happened in the sequels – but here, with everything firing on all cylinders, the movie instills an almost religious sense of dread even in those who have never sat through a Catholic sermon on the horrors of hell. An extremely formidable cast, anchored by an intense Ellen Burstyn, an ironclad Max Von Sydow, a neurotically brilliant Jason Miller, and a killer one-two punch from Linda Blair and Mercedes McCambridge, helps fix your attention throughout the film, but it’s the handful of truly terrifying moments that keep this a classic. (The restored “Version You’ve Never Seen” only amplifies the constant sense of stress and unease, and if anything, is even more frightening than the original.) Small wonder that Billy Graham claimed that the movie was literally possessed by the Devil.

6. ALIEN (1979)

My parents took my brother and me to see Alien when we were 12 and 10, respectively. To the best of my recollection, my brother bailed for the safety of the lobby sometime around the time the baby “chest-burster” burst from John Hurt’s chest in the film’s iconic and notorious horror film moment, leading to Veronica Cartwright’s stunned and horrified, “Oh, God...” (because, really, what else does one say in such a situation)? I remember feeling very big brother smug about staying bravely in my seat as the ever smaller crew of the freighter Nostromo hunted H.R. Giger’s phallic dentata extraterrestrial through the claustrophobic cabins and corridors of their vessel...until, that is, the moment when sole survivor Ripley (and her cat) abandoned ship...AND THE ALIEN WAS IN THE ESCAPE POD WITH HER! Fuck this, I thought...I wasn’t gonna risk a pre-pubescent heart attack just because my folks thought it would be funny to scare the piss out of their children. Rushing out to join my brother in the lobby, I watched the rest of the movie through a window in the door of the theater, then probably went home and had a few hundred nightmares. In my adult life, I’m more a fan of James Cameron’s 1986 thrill-ride sequel than Ridley Scott’s relatively artsy, slow-moving original...but respect must be paid to any film with the power to induce actual childhood trauma.

Click Here For Part One, Two, Three, Five, Six & Seven

Contributors: Pierced Leonard, Philled With Evil Nugent, Android Osborne

Thursday Morning Poll for September 16, 2008

Paul Clark — Thu, 16 Oct 2008 14:00:00 GMT

Well, looks like the Russell Crowe name just isn’t what it used to be. In conjunction with last weekend’s release of Body of Lies, we decided to poll you folks on your favorite Crowe/Ridley Scott collaboration. But just as Body of Lies tanked at the box office, so most of you were less than enthusiastic about this poll subject. Predictably, our readers’ top choice was their Oscar-winning Gladiator, which brought in 45% of the vote. But more telling is that 36% of you voted for “none of the above.” What gives, folks? Was it the phone-throwing incident or the Thirty Odd Foot of Grunts fiasco that soured you on Crowe?

For this week’s poll, a question about one of the filmmakers most often associated with horror- George A. Romero. Romero has recently announced that he’s going to be making a sixth film in the Dead franchise. And although I think he might have gone to the zombie well one too many times already, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t eager to see what else he has up his sleeve. But until that film sees the light of day, we’ve still got five other entries- some classics, others not so much- to discuss and debate their relative merits. So, I’ll put it to you- what’s the best Romero Dead movie?

Which of Romero's DEAD films is your favorite? | BuzzDash polls

Try not to hurt your BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAINS! choosing a favorite. As always, the comments section is open. See you next week!

Morning Deal Report: Seth Rogen's With Cancer

Scott Von Doviak — Mon, 13 Oct 2008 14:30:00 GMT

In our time of financial crisis, a nation turns to a tiny talking dog for comfort. Hey, we’ve all been there, right? Er…not that my tiny dog talks out loud. Not often anyway. Heh heh heh. Anyway, Beverly Hills Chihuahua continues to rule the box office chart, digging up $17.5 million over the weekend for a total haul of $52.5 million so far. And then there are those who seek respite from our trying times in the comfort of flesh-eating monsters, as Quarantine took second place with $14.2 million. The one-two punch of Leonardo DiCaprio and Russell Crowe had to settle for third, as Body of Lies debuted with $13.1 million. America apparently decided a terrorism thriller wasn’t really the salve it was looking for.

Seth Rogen will make you laugh at cancer. That’s the plan, anyway. Rogen will co-produce and co-star in I’m With Cancer, from an autobiographical script by Will Reiser. Rogen will have a supporting role in “Reiser's account of his struggle to beat cancer, with the story centering on a 25-year-old who finds out he has the disease,” per The Hollywood Reporter. I’m laughing already.

Ridley Scott has apparently put that Monopoly movie on the back burner. He’s now planning to adapt the 1974 Joe Haldeman novel The Forever War, which Variety reminds us will be the director’s “first science fiction film since he delivered back-to-back classics with Blade Runner and Alien.” I guess G.I. Jane doesn’t count.

Related:
Face/Off: Judd Apatow and "Pineapple Express"
OST: "Blade Runner"

Trailer Review: Body of Lies

Paul Clark — Mon, 28 Jul 2008 16:00:00 GMT

Does anyone out there actually buy Leonardo DiCaprio in tough-guy roles? Don’t get me wrong- I think he’s a talented actor, and given the right part he can knock it out of the park. But I didn’t find him convincing in Gangs of New York and Blood Diamond, and I’m certainly not convinced here. If you look at Leo’s best recent roles- Frank Abagnale, Howard Hughes, even Billy Costigan in The Departed- they all make use of his innate boyishness and knack for playing psychologically damaged characters. But there’s just something about him (the reedy voice, the scraggly facial hair) that doesn’t work when he’s supposed to be tough and street-smart. Just like he was in Gangs, he looks hopelessly overmatched here by his more experienced costar- Russell Crowe this time around- and it’s going to require a lot of work from director Ridley Scott and screenwriter William Monahan to convince me that Leo’s character can hold his own opposite Crowe’s. Also, it seems sort of sinful that the gorgeous Carice Van Houten (playing Leo’s wife) is nowhere to be found in the trailer, but maybe that’s just me.

Morning Deal Report: Sienna Miller in the Hood

Scott Von Doviak — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 14:30:00 GMT

Add Sienna Miller’s name to a list that already includes Audrey Hepburn, Uma Thurman and Rich Little. That would be the list of people who have played Maid Marian in one version or another of Robin Hood. Ridley Scott’s “revisionist take” called Nottingham already has Russell Crowe on board, but not in the role you might think. According to Variety, Scott’s version “focuses on the Sheriff of Nottingham (Crowe) as a noble and brave lawman who labors for a corrupt king and engages in a love triangle with Marion and Robin Hood.” Miller is currently shooting G.I. Joe, so she should have action figures aplenty in stores by this time next year.

Insert your own “offer they can’t refuse” joke here. The estate of Mario Puzo “has filed suit against Paramount Pictures, claiming the studio owes it at least $1 million in revenues from the series of video games based on the Oscar-winning film The Godfather,” per the Hollywood Reporter. The author’s son Anthony is behind the lawsuit, which states: “Despite the vast wealth Puzo created for Paramount, it has refused to pay his children their agreed share of the revenue from that audio-visual product.” No truth to the rumors that Puzo’s lawyers are responsible for the horse’s head found in the Paramount CEO’s bed.

Finally, you’ll be delighted to know that the appropriately named Film Movement has acquired the U.S. distribution rights to The Pope’s Toilet. The Cannes favorite “is set in 1988, as a small Uruguayan town, Melo, gears up for the arrival of Pope John Paul II. One local resident, trying to profit from the visit, decides to build a portable pay toilet for the event, setting in motion a chain of unforeseen complications,” Variety reports. I guess that answers Steve Martin’s old question, “Does the Pope shit in the woods?”

Related:
How Bad Will "G.I. Joe" Be?
American Lawsuit

Chick Hits: The Girl Power Top Ten

Andrew Osborne — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 20:00:00 GMT

After the big screen edition of Sex & The City exceeded the low expectations of industry gurus who were shocked...shocked...to discover that people were actually interested in a movie about, y'know, gurlz, Missy Schwartz wrote a depressingly familiar story for Entertainment Weekly: “It was an unqualified triumph...one the industry observed in a stunned, slack-jawed state. As the weekend rolled to a close, news outlets filed their reports with words like unexpected, surprising, and shocking. ‘What do you know?’ they all seemed to be saying. ‘Women go to the movies!’”

And if Sex and the City 2 (or The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 or Mama Mia!) or any other female-centric movie succeeds in the near future, Hollywood will be surprised all over again, and Entertainment Weekly and other publications will run similar articles about the American movie-going public’s "unexpected," "surprising" and "shocking" desire for strong female characters...a desire Hollywood will more or less continue to ignore as it continues its relentless pursuit of teenage boys, no matter how many Speed Racers crash and burn along the way.

Because, after all, many studio execs are just overgrown boys themselves. They dig gadgets, explosions and special effects, and CGI creations are easy to control and merchandise. Female-centered movies tend to rely on well-written screenplays, relatable characters, nuanced direction and...yecccch...feelings: all the things most studio execs pretend to champion but secretly hate.

But we here at The Screengrab aren’t afraid to get in touch with our feminine sides as we raise our Cosmos to these Top Ten “chick hits”: films that put their empowered female characters front and center (without resorting to stripper poles OR big gauzy Prince Charming/Bridezilla wedding porn).

THELMA AND LOUISE (1991)

Okay, so I’m not sure how empowering it is to drive off a cliff in real life, but this Ridley Scott film (based on an iconic script by wunderkind, zeitgeist-tapping Academy Award-winning screenwriter Callie Khouri) caused a sensation upon its release by (A) objectifying Brad Pitt as a hunky slab of beefcake (thus electrifying and pretty much launching his career) and (B) allowing Susan Sarandon’s Louise to gun down the scumbag who was raping Geena Davis’ Thelma (and later blow up the truck of a leering male chauvinist pig) without even feeling all that bad about it, just like any number of male actors in any number of male-centric revenge fantasies...except in films like Dirty Harry, Death Wish, Taxi Driver, etc., the male heroes didn’t have to die in the end to satisfy Hays Code-style notions of karmic retribution for stepping outside the lines of acceptable social conduct. Still, the film’s outlaw motif energized female audiences by (melo)dramatizing the common stereotypical perception of men as either (a) dangerous assholes or (b) hapless boobs while providing enough action and sex to attract audiences of every gender.

THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA (2006)

There’s a beloved feminist koan that goes something like this: ruthless, aggressive men who go after what they want are called winners, while ruthless, aggressive women are called bitches. Of course, most thinking people realize that ruthless, aggressive men are actually called assholes...and it’s the universal, gender-blind nature of the eternally confusing success vs. happiness equation faced by Anne Hathaway’s aspiring fashionista “Andy” Sachs that helped to make the film version of The Devil Wears Prada a $300 million dollar monster hit. And, let’s see...two seconds of Googling and...yep! There’s a TMZ article from 2006 with a, shall we say, certain familiar ring to it: “Blah blah blah, female-centered film exceeded all expectations...yadda-yadda-yadda...industry analysts surprised,” etc., etc. etc. As Meryl Streep’s formidable Gordon Gekko-in-stilettos magazine mogul Miranda Priestly might say to those industry Suits who stubbornly refuse to acknowledge the existence of fifty percent of their audience, “Details of your incompetence do not interest me.”

BRING IT ON (2000)

This broadly played late-summer sleeper is actually packing a lot of heavy metaphorical lumber for a teen flick about a cheerleading competition. Kirsten Dunst is the new head of the Toros, who cheer for the (rich, white) Rancho Carne High School in Los Angeles; they're gearing up for the national championships, which they've won the past six years with the spectacular routines provided by departing team leader Big Red. But when a new girl with a gymnastics background and an attitude -- Eliza Dushku, who was too cool for Buffy the Vampire Slayer's school -- joins the squad, she has unsettling news. It turns out that Big Red was stealing her plays from the fly girls who cheer for the (black, poor) East Compton Clovers, thus making the Toros the cheerleading equivalent of Pat Boone to the Clovers' Little Richard. Dunst actually does her best to rationalize this cultural parasitism rather than destroy her cheerleading institution overnight, but the situation becomes intolerable after the Clovers attend a Toros game and mock their blonde plagiarists by performing the stolen moves in the stands. In the end, both teams attend the finals and show that they can use their brains and talents to compete honorably on the field of battle. There is, however, one scene that shows that contemporary standards of empowerment may be thornier, and weirder, than is commonly acknowledged. Dunst offers the Clovers, who have been prevented from attending the national competition by financial hardship, the chance to come by talking her father into getting his company to sponsor them, but the head Clover (Gabrielle Union) contemptuously rejects the offer, telling Dunst that they don't need her charity; they'll raise the money themselves, their own way. Their own way turns out to be going on an "Oprah"-like TV show and raising contributions by guilt-tripping viewers with their tale of woe. I guess it's honest labor and not charity if it helps "Oprah" kill an hour.

JACKIE BROWN (1997)

Such '70s blaxploitation films as Coffy and Foxy Brown may have made Pam Grier a cult star, but it was always a degraded form of stardom, and not just because the movies were cheap genre knockoffs; she may have had the chance to show that she could hold the camera and kick ass in the final reel, but she still also had to get her top ripped off before being raped by guys who looked like the Ku Klux Klan's answer to Uncle Fester, while being called things like "this big-jugged jigaboo." Jackie Brown catches up with Grier more than twenty years down the road, when she's at an age when Hollywood regards actresses as disposable. It's not a great age to be a flight attendant, either, which is why Jackie is working for a low-grade Mexican airline and acting as a courier for Los Angeles-based gun dealer Ordell Robbie (Samuel L. Jackson). Both Ordell and the federal agents setting up a case against him regard Jackie as a pawn who can easily be taken out of play at any moment. But -- and here's the key difference between this and Grier's '70s vehicles -- the movie respects her. The way she looks through Tarantino's lens, you sort of picture the camera shuffling its feet nervously as it tries to work up the nerve to ask her if she's been seeing anybody lately. And so Ordell, whose fearsomeness would cut him a lot more ice in a different Tarantino movie, is reduced to a comic figure; for all his bluster and firepower, his assumption that the middle-aged black woman with the low-paying job must be a bit player (which Jackie will use against him, and against the feds, too), makes him ridiculous. The only man in the movie who can see Jackie for what she is remains Robert Forster's bail bondsman Max Cherry, who, unlike the film's younger, strutting cocks, lacks the ego and capacity for self-deception that might get in the way of his seeing clearly what's in front of him. Tarantino included a riff (borrowed from Jules Feiffer's The Great Comic Book Heroes) on the arrogance of Superman in the second Kill Bill film, and Jackie Brown is in some ways a black, female Superman fantasy, except that Jackie doesn't have to put on a pair of eyeglasses to trick the dull-witted into thinking she's no match for them.

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER (1992)

Long before Joss Whedon was a small-screen institution, he was just a fresh-faced young script doctor with a dream. That dream was to create a richly detailed fantasy world featuring nubile teenage girls. Sure, you’re saying: how does that make him any different than millions of other guys? Here’s how: his nubile teenage girls kicked ass. And not just any ass, but demonic vampire ass! Within a decade, Buffy the Vampire Slayer would find its way onto television and prove a major cult hit, giving the country a brand new definition of girl power and adding an entirely new dimension to teen angst as Buffy Summers and her Scoobies battled monsters and bloodsuckers at Sunnydale High. But it all started with this low-budget big-screen number. Whedon, once he’d decided he was a highbrow auteur, more or less disavowed the Buffy movie, but in many ways, it holds up a lot better than people give it credit for: it doesn’t take itself so deadly serious, it has tons of terrific comic turns from Paul Reubens and Stephen Root in supporting roles, and while Kristy Swanson’s Buffy may not carry the emotional weight that Sarah Michelle Gellar’s did, she looks mighty fine in a half-shirt, and she furthers the cause of female empowerment the way only a vampire slayer can. She’s rough, she’s tough, and she maintains her keen fashion sense: what could be more feminine than that?

Click here for Part Two!

Related Posts: Girl DisemPowering: Nine Films That Didn't Do Feminism Any Favors (Part One & Part Two)

Contributors: Andrew Osborne, Phil Nugent, Leonard Pierce

Leonardo DiCaprio in "Pong: The Movie"?

Scott Von Doviak — Mon, 09 Jun 2008 17:00:00 GMT

Okay, so that headline is a little misleading; we’re not trying to give Uwe Boll any ideas here, although with movies based on Monopoly (Ridley Scott is on the case) and Ouija (Who ya gonna call? Michael Bay!) in the works, a motion picture adaptation of Pong might not even be the stupidest idea of the year. But the invention of the “little game called Pong that transfixed kids in suburban rec rooms across the country and led to hundreds of millions of dollars worth of video game sales” will no doubt be dramatized in the latest effort from the biopic-crazed Leonardo DiCaprio.

According to the Hollywood Reporter, DiCaprio – who has already played Howard Hughes and Arthur Rimbaud onscreen and will soon take on Theodore Roosevelt for favorite director Martin Scorsese – will produce and star in Atari, the life story of the famed videogame company’s founder Nolan Bushnell. Even those of us who spent our formative years with joysticks in hand attempting to master Space Invaders and Yars' Revenge might be a little skeptical that Bushnell’s story could make for compelling cinema – but wait, there’s more! Bushnell is also the mastermind behind Chuck E. Cheese. With any luck, the film will explore this dark side of his character as well.

Screengrab Pub Crawl: The Top 15 Bars of Cinema (Part One)

Andrew Osborne — Thu, 29 May 2008 20:00:00 GMT

Back in my misspent Hollywood days, my friends and I used to enjoy the occasional round of “bar golf” through the dives and strip clubs of Hollywood Boulevard. The rules were simple: a “par one” bar meant we’d have one drink and move on, “par two” meant two drinks, etc., and the goal was to drink in at least nine separate bars by the end of the night. We’d usually “tee off” in the lobby of the Roosevelt Hotel, followed by pitchers of cheap beer in the “par two” Power House on Highland, and somehow the night always seemed to wind up with fire-breathing transvestite strippers at Jumbo’s Clown Room.

And so now, in honor of the recent Memorial Day kickoff to the official Summer Drinking Season, we here at The Screengrab invite you to join us on another pub crawl, though the Top 15 watering holes of cinema...so brace yourself with a nice starchy meal, grab your smokes and aspirin, and join us as we tee off at our first bar of the evening...

THE DRESDEN ROOM, SWINGERS (1996)

Unlike most of the bars on this list, The Dresden Room actually exists in the real world (1760 N. Vermont Avenue, Los Feliz, CA), as well as the fictional universe of Jon Favreau’s neo-rat pack classic Swingers. Maybe it was just the booze talking, but whenever my friends and I would hit the swanky-tacky Dresden on the Back Nine of an East Hollywood bar golf jaunt, we’d all feel as “money” as Favreau, Vince Vaughn, Ron Livingston and the rest of the film’s hepcat posse of unemployed actors, even though I’m pretty sure we never (A) dressed as well, (B) Lindy-Hopped as well or (C) scored digits from (or even met) any super-friendly, super-nice, conveniently single ladies with the suspiciously low standards and drop-dead movie star looks of Heather Graham’s swing-dance enthusiast, Lorraine (who, in L.A., at least, is a mythological figure on par with Liv Tyler’s elf princess in The Lord of the Rings). We did, however, spend plenty of nights enjoying the peculiar jazz stylings of Dresden’s house band staples, Marty & Elayne, who also straddle the line between reality and fiction...much like our drinking buddy a little further down the street in...

THE SKID ROW DIVE BARS OF BARFLY (1987)

To all my freeeeenz! The late Charles Bukowki, the poet laureate of the Thunderbird wine company, wrote this semi-autobiographical fantasy after he himself had stopped going to bars, and he must have wanted to get both his dream image of himself -- the great wino writer Henry Chinaski, played by Mickey Rourke -- and his idea of the bar of his dreams on film to warm himself in his dried-out dotage. The bar in question is a magical place where the women all look like hookers played by Sylvia Miles and the men stand around gawking in awe as our boy Henry shows off his verbal gifts by giving the bartender-bouncer (Frank Stallone) such tips as, "Your mother's cunt stinks like carpet cleaner." When Rourke (who holds his body here in a way that makes him look like a chicken carcass that was taken apart and reassembled by a blind crackhead with a science project due) and Stallone aren't taking turns going back in the alley to stomp a mud hole in each other's ass, Faye Dunaway and Alice Krige are celebrating Ladies' Night by rolling around on the floor, having a diva cat fight over this gorgeous hunk of man. They were going to include a scene showing what goes on there during Trivia Night, but then the picture would have been rated NC-17.

Next stop...the future, as we settle in for a little synthetic skin (and we don’t mean silicon boobs) at...

TAFFEY’S BAR, BLADE RUNNER (1982)

The world of Ridley Scott’s masterful Blade Runner is, for all its gorgeous set design, a pretty intimidating one: creepy warehouses full of nervous marionettes, run-down tenements and strangely glowing noodle shops, and huge corporate arcologies belching fire into the skies of Los Angeles. The only place we can see really spending a lot of time in the L.A. of 2019 is at Taffey Lewis’ rambunctious nightclub. It’s got a highly picturesque clientele, chainsmoking weird tobaccos and speaking the polyglot Creole of the moment; Taffey himself (greasily portrayed by Hy Pyke) always has Louie the bartender ready to hand out free drinks to anyone who can jeopardize his liquor license; and best of all, it’s a full-service erotic establishment, complete with robotic animal acts and the finest in genetically engineered bestiality. In fact, until her unexpected retirement, it was the only place in town where you could see the lovely Zhora (Joanna Cassidy, a million miles from Falcon Crest) “take the pleasures from the serpent which once corrupted Man”! Now that’s the kind of entertainment that money just can’t buy.

Tired of the city? Then grab a designated driver and we’ll head out to the desert for last call at...

THE BEER TAVERN, FEAST (2005)

This horror comedy, directed by John Gulager, is, if you'll excuse a real low ball of a compliment, by far the best of the movies produced by the Miramax-sponsored Project Greenlight TV series and talent contest. It's set in the Beer Tavern, a rickety-looking juke joint whose customers have to get all Straw Dogs when the place is besieged by slavering, man-eating monsters. It's a real mystery where they've come from -- the customers, I mean. The Beer Tavern looks to be set all by itself in the middle of a desert, and the people there appear to be a modest cross-section of everyone within a hundred miles who've worn out their welcome in all the more civilized establishments and no longer dare stick their head in the door anywhere else for fear of getting it shot off. Luckily, the bar is so well-equipped with secret exits and tunnels and hidey-holes, as well as such diversionary elements as the deer head mounted on the wall that one of the monsters, well, mounts, that it seems to have been constructed with a creature assault in mind. When Judah Friedlander is one of your best customers, it pays to take every precaution.

And, since we’re heading north anyway, might as well stop in for a quick one at...

THE PINK ROOM, TWIN PEAKS: FIRE WALK WITH ME (1992)

Welcome to Canada! The conversation may not be all that stimulating ("I am the Great Went." "Don't expect a turkey dog here."), if you can even hear it, but the ambiance is out of this world. In our recent list of TV shows-turned-movies, we singled out this scene from Fire Walk with Me, noting that it's "set in what appears to be Satan's roadhouse." That's evident from the pulsing red lighting, the grinding, relentless rock band (playing a Lynch-composed track called "The Pink Room," which may or may not be the name of this place) and the array of seedy characters and half-naked zombie-women among the clientele. This is where innocence comes to die, as Laura Palmer, who long ago lost it, learns when she spots squeaky-clean pal Donna in a drugged topless clinch on the dance floor. As you can see from the above clip, somebody thinks this is one of the worst movie scenes of all time, which is ludicrous. It contains at least two signature Lynch shots I'll take to my grave: a vertiginous, drunken whirl past the repulsive Jacques Renault and into the lights above, and a pan across the unbelievably filthy floor, piled high with broken bottles and the smoking ash from thousands of cigarette butts.

Then it’s back across the border for a little marital advice at...

THE OVERLOOK HOTEL BAR FROM THE SHINING (1980)

On the surface, this nook in the corner of the Overlook Hotel's grand ballroom would appear to be the perfect bar. The stock is self-replenishing, you have the bartender's full attention, and most importantly, your money's no good here. On the other hand, since the place is supposed to be closed up for the winter and completely deserted except for you and your wife and son, there might be a problem: either you're crazy or the joint is haunted or both. But why worry about that? It's always New Year's Eve here, and Lloyd – "the best goddamn bartender from Timbuktu to Portland, Maine – or Portland, Oregon for that matter" – will always be happy to serve you the hair of the dog. As long as you steer clear of awkward encounters with the waitstaff in the blood-red bathroom…what could possibly go wrong?

And speaking of bathrooms, we’re gonna take a quick break to go “powder our nose,” but we’ll meet you over in Chicago for Part Two of the Screengrab Pub Crawl!

Contributors: Andrew Osborne, Phil Nugent, Leonard Pierce, Scott Von Doviak

OST: "Blade Runner"

Leonard Pierce — Tue, 27 May 2008 14:45:00 GMT

Blade Runner has been described as a movie where everything comes together. This might seem like an odd description for such a rambunction mess of a film, which was marred by so much studio interference and difficulties in editing that director Ridley Scott felt that the director's cut of the movie left something to be desired, but what's meant is that it was a movie that in many ways was the career peak for everyone involved. Scott, a talented visionary but also an undisciplined egomaniac, never again made a film where he was so fully in command of his powers. Screenwriter Hampton Fancher went on to do some interesting work, but nothing on this level. Harrison Ford became a superstar, but one often defined by mediocrity and flatness; Sean Young's career would be sunk by rumors of her unpredictable emotional state; and Rutger Hauer would sabotage his own acting talents by appearing in anything that came with a paycheck -- but all three turned in fantastic performances. Even the movie's rich population of character actors, all of whom did great work elsewhere, seemed to hit their peak in Blade Runner -- including Edward James Olmos, M. Emmett Walsh, William Sanderson, Brion James, and Joe Terkel. Even Daryl Hannah isn't an embarrassment. The cinematography is among Jordan Cronenweth's best; the set direction, costumes, and production design are all top-notch; and it would be far and away the best movie adapted from a Philip K. Dick novel -- not that the author would live to see any of the rotten ones to come.

Even the composer of the film's score did what many consider to be his best work in Blade Runner. Vangelis (born Evangelos Papathanassiou) had built a career around his light New Age compositions that, if they weren't exactly triumphant, were at least slightly less boring than the music of most of his peers, but he scored a major success in 1981 with his stirring soundtrack work for Chariots of Fire. On the strength of that album, director Ridley Scott personally selected him to write the score to Blade Runner, instructing him to capture the film's mixture of depressing urban dystopia and shimmering, artificial advertised reality. Vangelis himself claimed he was attracted to the tortured character of ex-cop/blade runner Rick Deckard, and some of the thematic movements reflect this, shying away from the composer's usual use of high-toned, open chords to indicate triumph and transcendance, replaced with contracted, moody, jazzy movements and a sense of melancholy and despair. Much like the movie, the album fools you: the key notes, fills and musical cues are all a bit off, a bit subverted and turned around, leaving you uncertain how to feel, just as the script intends with characters like Deckard and Roy Batty. Vangelis would go on to have a rich and rewarding career as a film composer, but he'd never do anything this good again. Unfortunately, legal disputes with the record company -- as well as objections from the composer himself -- kept an 'official' soundtrack from being released for many years; the most widely available one featured the score being played by a thrown-together and inferior group of studio musicians. The multi-disc set released decades later at least features the original music, but it's lacking a number of cues, bits of incidental music, and one of the best compositions on the record; let's hope that a "final cut" of the film music is imminent, just as we now have the definitive version of the film.

BEST TRACKS: The "Blade Runner (End Title)" theme is the most recognizable piece of music on the album, and in many ways, it's the best: the soaring synth riffs cut off at their zenith with menacing rolls on a kettle drum as a relentless percussive beat worthy of Giorgio Moroder drives the entire thing along. The haunting "Rachel's Song", an inchoate piano piece with jazz chords and a peculiarly eerie feel, perfectly suits its scene, where Sean Young's character learns that she's a machine and that all the memories she has -- including taking piano lessons -- are inventions. And the "Love Theme from Blade Runner" breaks up the otherwise almost impenetrable darkness and moodiness of the score with a romantic saxophone melody that seems lifted from classic noir. (Sadly, one of the best pieces of music from the film -- the bizarre middle eastern techno piece played in a strip club, with vocals in the wierd melange of languages used by street people in the movie's futuristic setting -- is not included on any official release of the score.)

Reviews By Request: Zulu (1964, Cy Endfield)

Paul Clark — Fri, 02 May 2008 19:00:00 GMT

This review was requested by reader James Frazier. For details on how you can request a review of a film of your choice, see the footnote that follows this review.

For many people, the age of British colonialism has become a controversial period. In our modern ideological climate, imperialism has practically become a dirty word among many historians, who object to the way the United Kingdom and other colonizing countries steamrolled less developed cultures in order to further their own. There are a number of interesting movies that explore this idea, but Cy Endfield’s Zulu is not one of them, and it doesn’t try to be. It’s a rousing war picture in the classic tradition, made before the unpopularity of the Vietnam War made it almost impossible to make a war movie that wasn’t in some way or other about ideology.

Zulu is, first and foremost, a painstaking recreation of the 1879 Battle of Rorke’s Drift, a skirmish that pitted roughly 100 British soldiers against over 4,000 Zulu warriors. The first few reels of Zulu are devoted to introducing the characters and establishing the context for the battle, but the remainder of the film focuses solely on the progress of the battle itself. Not being a student of military history, I can’t speak to how accurate the film is. I only know that it’s completely convincing and satisfying in a dramatic sense, showing in great detail the way the outnumbered and overmatched British repelled the attacks by the Zulus and held their ground.

Rorke’s Drift was in the African colony of Natal, situated in the middle of what was traditionally Zulu territory. In the film, three men hold some measure of power over the outpost: young Lt. Gonnville Bromhead (played by Michael Caine in his first major role), engineering officer Lt. John Chard (Stanley Baker), and Rev. Otto Witt (Jack Hawkins), a missionary who along with his daughter presides over the church. But rather than simply focusing on these three men and allowing the others to fade into the background, Endfield takes the time to introduce us to many of their subordinates at the outpost: the medical corps, the quartermasters and cooks, and the various regiments, which hail from all over the United Kingdom.

On first glance, the first third of the film feels bogged down with character introductions, but Endfield’s efforts pay off once the battle itself begins. If the pre-battle scenes are leisurely, the battle is a model of efficiency. Having established the characters and their relationships, Zulu is now able to concentrate on the military aspects of the battle without being slowed by the demands of plot resolution. If there film provides any conventional setup-and-payoff, it’s in the small character touches that come as each major character behaves according to his nature. Consider the way Lt. Chard and Lt. Bromhead decide who is in command- Bromhead, who is of noble birth, resents an engineering officer trying to take command, but once Chard informs him of his greater experience (a matter of months, as it turns out), Bromhead backs down and the issue is never raised again.

As the battle continues, the theme that comes through most clearly is the idea of honor through duty. By most people’s standards, it was crazy for the British not to retreat from Rorke’s Drift when faced with an army of Zulu warriors, especially when a much larger contingent of British soldiers had just been massacred by the Zulus earlier that day. But for Lt. Chard and Lt. Bromhead, there’s never a question of whether they’ll stay and fight. They’ve sworn their allegiance to the Crown, and if the Crown wants to keep a presence at Rorke’s Drift, then their honor, and that of Britain, rests on them standing their ground. That’s what most of the civilians in the film don’t understand- a band of Boer mercenaries on horseback retreats when they discover what they’re up against, and Rev. Witt is eventually sent away by Chard, both for railing against the battle and simply because his presence isn’t doing any damn good.

Meanwhile, the soldiers have no choice but to fight. As Tennyson wrote, “theirs was not to reason why/ theirs was but to do and die.” Yet in the face of almost certain death, they stand their ground and repel the Zulu attacks again and again. Some of the most fascinating scenes in the film deal with the strategies employed by the British to defend their post, most of which appear to be improvised. I especially liked the way Chard set a trap for the Zulus by pulling soldiers away from the walls to lure them in, only to spring a trap on them once they’re inside. Little wonder than Zulu is one of Ridley Scott’s favorite movies, or that both Black Hawk Down and Kingdom of Heaven owe a great deal to Endfield’s film.

After the battle is over, the Zulus appear once more on the hills around Rorke’s Drift, but not for the reason the British think. Rather than attacking again, they chant for their worthy opponents, in celebration for their skill on the battlefield. Yet in the aftermath of their victory, Lt. Chard and Lt. Bromhead are more conflicted. Bromhead, still young and inexperienced, turns to his elder officer and says, “I feel afraid and there's something more- I feel ashamed.” Chard, ever the pragmatist, can only respond, “I came here to build a bridge.”

Previous Reviews by Request:

Baxter (1989, Jérôme Boivin)

Now, it’s your turn. What movie would you like me to review for the next installment of Reviews by Request? Let me know in the comments section below. To refresh your memory, here are the rules for requesting a movie to be reviewed: (1) it has to be a movie I haven’t seen, (2) it has to be available through Netflix, and (3) please only request one film. Other than that, anything is fair game (except for Fair Game which, alas, I’ve already seen). First to suggest a movie that qualifies gets their requested review. See you in two weeks!

Little Minx's Exquisite Corpse: Internet Playground for Tomorrow's Classic Commercials Directors, Today

Phil Nugent — Fri, 04 Apr 2008 20:00:00 GMT

Little Minx, a commercial production company founded in 1998, has set up a website designed to give their directors a chance to strut their stuff via a series of very short films made under the umbrella title of "Exquisite Corpse". As in the Surrealists' parlor game of the same name, the concept is a sort of creative pass-the-baton game: the chief rule is that each filmmaker has to pick up with the last line of the script from the preceding film. (Typical titles: "She Turns Back and Faces Forward, At Peace" and "Without Missing A Beat, She Asks, 'Waffles For Breakfast?'") Handsomely produced (by Little Minx company founder Rhea Scott), the five films currently available for viewing are as easy on the eyes as they are soft in content. They range in style from urban-gangbanger-violence with arty flashback structure to New Age-feminist music video, and if the worst that can be said for most of the best of them is that they don't have anything new to say however snazzily they say it, the best that can be said of the worst of them is that they're over before you've had a chance to mind them much. The one that seems to have gotten the most attention, Josh Miller's "Waffles", is built around a plot twist that you can see coming from a mile off, but it does have a great opening line ("I guess what I'm tryin' to say is that if the good lord put hair there, it's probably for a reason."), some well-placed waka-jawaka on the soundtrack, and good acting by a cast headed by Stephen Mendillo, a familiar face from '90s episodes of classic Law and Order, and a fetching young actress named Aviva, who was in Superbad. And Chris Nelson's "She Turns Back..." leavens its standard-issue picture of the horrors of a TV casting call with a striking performance by Cara Failer as a conflicted kid actress trying to hang onto some self-respect. Well-executed but unsurprising, these are ideal for viewing on an iPod--which is only a put-down if the filmmakers had grander ambitions than that.

Other websites are popping up now (such as Wonderland) that aim to use the Internet to bring together talented new filmmakers and give viewers access to their work. "Exquisite Corpse" seems like the vanguard for a more business-minded approach that might be called cutting-edge practical: by giving commercial directors the chance to show how they might do if given the chance to stretch a little--say, behind the camera on a theatrical feature film--it may serve industry people as the latest concept in audition reels, while attracting moviegoers who are curious to see where the next Ridley Scott or Brett Ratner might be coming from. My own favorite of the films posted so far may actually be the first, Laurent Briet's "With the Eyes of Every Man Riveted Upon Her," a pulse-driven little vignette set in a gym that makes canny use of its teenaged lead actress and the Black Strobe song "Shining Bright Star." It would make a great commercial for something, which seems to be the idea.

Parcheesi: The Movie

Scott Von Doviak — Wed, 20 Feb 2008 22:00:00 GMT

The search is on to find the Uwe Boll of board games. Universal has signed a deal with Hasbro to develop movies based on the classics: Monopoly, Battleship, Ouija and Candy Land. Because that 1985 Clue movie worked out so well, it only took 23 years to get to this point. Apparently everyone who was in charge of Hollywood then has now moved on.

This development dovetails nicely with last summer’s rumor that Ridley Scott has interest in bringing Monopoly to the big screen. According to the scuttlebutt at the time, Scott has already offered roles in the film to Scarlett Johansson and Kirsten Dunst. (We’re guessing Dunst plays the shoe, with Johansson taking on the part of the top hat.) The plan is apparently to turn the hallowed game of Atlantic City real estate into “a racy comedy thriller… in an attempt to win over teenagers who regard board games as a last resort on a wet afternoon.” Hey, if chess can be made into a musical, I guess anything’s possible. (And don’t tell me I’m the only one who remembers “One Night in Bangkok.”)

Admittedly, Battleship makes a little more sense as a cinematic concept, and Ouija pretty much writes itself, but frankly we’d prefer David Cronenberg's Ants in the Pants or Martin Scorsese's Don’t Spill the Beans to Candy Land: The Movie. If you think Universal couldn’t set their sights any lower (their official announcement is rife with nauseating buzzwords like “global brand awareness” and “slate strategy”), be warned that they aren’t stopping at board games. Variety reports that other Hasbro products, like goop-filled marvel-man Stretch Armstrong and poker-for-geeks Magic the Gathering, are also in the mix.

The Top Ten Movies With Alternate Cuts, Part 2

Phil Nugent — Fri, 08 Feb 2008 15:00:00 GMT

MANHUNTER (1985, Michael Mann)

I've got four cuts of Manhunter on my shelf: the original theatrical version, a re-cut for broadcast on TCM, another cut allegedly for a preview, and then Mann's final definitive cut. Anything significantly different about these cuts? It's basically trimming down a few scenes and putting one or two back in, most of them documented on this excellent fan website. Mann has gone back to his movies before, re-cutting Last of the Mohicans (in the process removing a Clannad song that dated the flick), Ali, and even preparing a three-hour cut of Heat for a TV broadcast that never happened. Here, though, was an instance where a director's revisionist tinkering harmed the flick, removing dialogue from William Peterson that actually showed how much he empathised with the serial killer he was hunting. Though it might not be Mann's preferred cut, for me the original theatrical release is the definitive cut of the film so far.

THE LORD OF THE RINGS TRILOGY (2001-2003, Peter Jackson)

Peter Jackson had made it clear during pre-production of his adaptation of Tolkien's trilogy that an extended cut would be coming out, and so it did, and the fans lapped it up, thus putting even more cash into New Line's coffers. But were these cuts any good? It depends on what you're looking for. I always thought the theatrical releases were pretty rushed and the extended versions did have a more relaxed pace about them, but did Tolkien fans really want to see hobbits getting tall from Ent juice or a bit of extended battle butchery? Apparently so. I thought these were a mixed bag. (I mean, do you really want to see an extended ending for Return of the King? Wasn't it long enough anyway?) All credit for Jackson for giving consumers the options, but was it really that much of an improvement?

THE STAR WARS TRILOGY (1977-1982, George Lucas, Irvin Kersher, Richard Marquand)

Han fired first. Among all the extra tidbits that were included in the trilogy, the one that angers the fans most is George Lucas changing the infamous Han vs Greedo confrontation from this:

To this:

And its downhill from there. Yes the special editions made a bundle when re-released. Yes, most people probably have them on their DVD shelf, but if you just give audiences one option, that's what they have to go with. It was only last year that Lucas relented and finally released the original, unaltered films on DVD and even then, they were non-anamorphic transfers. Does the additional material add to the films? Nope.

THE NEW WORLD (2005, Terrence Malick)

Terrence Malick is notorious for taking a long time with the editing of his movies, so it wasn't a surprise to hear that his last film, The New World, wasn't going to make its original November 2005 release date. A month later though, a 150-min cut was screened for critics with hopes that it would qualify for a few Academy Awards. In 2006, the film went into general release with a shortened cut, which Malick considered his best version; a log of the changes can be found here. The only place to get a copy of the first cut is if you have a copy of the Academy screeners or you get the special edition Italian DVD. Never fear though, as according to producer Sarah Greene, Malick has started work on another cut of The New World. Though considerable work had been done on it, its still up in the air when it may come out, though I suspect this may be due to the director mulling over what HD format he should release it on. After this, one hopes he can get back to finally finishing his alternate cut of The Thin Red Line, which is rumored to be a completely new film altogether. But then, even a re-edited Malick film is better than no Malick.

THE LAST EMPEROR (1987, Bernardo Bertolucci)

The Last Emperor is one of those old-style epics that needs to be seen on the big screen. No amount of CGI could have the power to surprise and astonish like this scene:

It was the original 160-minute cut that picked up the Academy Awards, but Bertolucci preferred his director's cut and until recently, you could only get a decent copy of both cuts from the U.K. But when Criterion recently announced its special edition containing both cuts, it quietly noted that the cinematographer, Storraro again, once again applied his Univisium concept by re-formatting the film to now be shown at 2:1 aspect ratio. It's unimaginable to see a film like this in a compromised halfway-house aspect ratio, but in this case, fans of The Last Emperor at least have a choice.

RUNNERS UP:

REVENGE (1989, Tony Scott)

Most alternate cuts have stuff being put into the film, Tony Scott went one better by chucking stuff out of Revenge. He waited eighteen years to remove twenty-four minutes out of Tarantino's favourite flick. Do we get to see more Madeleine Stowe in her prime? Disappointingly, not really, but we do get a much tighter and meaner story of two men who are righteously pissed off with one another because of a bitch in heat.

LEGEND (1984, Ridley Scott)

There are about four cuts of this flick flying around the world. Do any of them improve Scott's flawed fairy tale? They try. Until the 2003 DVD release, U.S. viewers were only familiar with a Tangerine Dream-scored cut of the film. The film's devoted fan base resulted in the release of a director's cut that revealed that even with the director at full control, the film may have had little chance at the box office but now was held together by the late Jerry Goldsmith's more sumptious score. Tim Curry as Darkness steals the show from everyone.

ALIEN 3 (1993, David Fincher)

David Fincher's debut nearly killed off the director's career, and until the release of the special edition, the only other version of the film was a leaked three-hour bootleg. The new cut is a revelation, even though it was done without Fincher's collaboration. A completely new version that makes you re-assess an otherwise neglected and flawed contribution to the Alien franchise. And if you disagree with that, I got two words to say to you: Alien: Resurrection.

TERMINATOR 2 (1992, James Cameron)

Cameron first got alternate cut success with the release of Aliens: Special Edition. T2 got a bunch more footage thrown in, most of it of the type that filmmakers refer to as "character development". To his credit, Cameron's DVD producers were the first ones who used "branching" DVD software, where extended footage would be seamlessly intergrated within the original cut.

SUPERMAN 2 (1992, Richard Lester, Richard Donner)

An alternate ending to Superman 2.:

Watching Donner's cut of Superman II is painful. The additional Marlon Brando footage really adds to the film, as do his conceptions of the scenes, but unfortunately, Richard Donner was kicked off the film after only two-thirds of it had been completed. The rest of it was re-shot by Richard Lester. Donner's insistence on using as little of Lester's footage as possible creates a curious discontinuity, but it's the repeat ending that really lets it down. If Donner had been allowed to finish the sequel, he may have come up with something that didn't rehash the first film, but in this case the Lester film is more complete.

— Faisal A. Qureshi

Click here for Part 1.

The Top Ten Movies With Alternate Cuts, Part 1

Phil Nugent — Thu, 07 Feb 2008 22:00:00 GMT

What is it about alternate cuts? A cynical marketing tool to sell an old movie or the chance for the filmmakers to finally unveil their true vision of the film? In the old days, studios wouldn't bother with keeping trims and outtakes; better to dump them in the sea and save the space for something more worthwhile. Most of the great filmmakers suffered from this. Orson Welles couldn't reconstruct his version of The Magnificent Ambersons, and even more recently, William Friedkin couldn't find the footage to finally unleash his preferred cut of Cruising. In the old days, if you wanted to see the alternate cut of a movie, you had to go to another country. Graham Greene didn't dig the shortened version of Once Upon A Time In The West, so he told his readers to go to Paris to see the uncut version. Friedkin went apeshit when he found out that Sorcerer, his beloved remake of The Wages of Fear, had been completely re-cut by the European distributors, so that the opening character prologues instead appeared as flashbacks, usually whenever a character was just about to blow up. Here, though, is a list of ten alternate cuts that are well worth your time. — Faisal A. Qureshi

BLADE RUNNER (1982, Ridley Scott)

How many different versions of this film are there? Warner Brothers did everyone except eBay bootleggers a favor when they put all five on one platter. First there was the U.S. voice-over cut, then the international cut (for a few frames of ultra-violence that those decadent Europeans dig) and then the authorized director's cut. Hold on a minute though, Ridley Scott kept saying that actually wasn't his final cut, so he went back to the editing room and came out with his definitive final cut (and let's not forget the 70mm Workprint that kicked the whole thing off). Basically, film lovers wouldn't have alternate cuts of movies if it wasn't for Blade Runner. It was the film that showed that ten years after the first release and proved you could still make cash from your old films. Which version is the best though? Well, that's up to you. I thought changing Rutger Hauer's "I want more life, fucker" to "father" kind of sucked and spoiled an otherwise decent flick, but WB did the decent thing and actually made sure all of them are there for your perusal. Heck, maybe I should go into the editing room and cut my own personally approved cut of Blade Runner. I mean, they do give you everything in this package.

THE SHINING (1980, Stanley Kubrick)

How can a filmmaker allow two different cuts of a film in release? If you're Stanley Kubrick, you can do everything. Whilst US audiences had the pleasure of a 147-minute cut of the Stephen King adaptation, the rest of the world just had the pleasure of a two-hour cut of the film, both approved by the director. Sure, Eyes Wide Shut had CGI figures covering some naughty bits, and he trimmed twenty minutes from 2001 after its world premiere, but this is different: Kubrick allowed both cuts to co-exist. What's the difference between them? Well, it's mostly scene shortening and dialogue trims, including bits where Scatman Crothers' character is going back to the Overlook Hotel to see what the heck is going on there. At one point you could get both versions on DVD, but with the recent re-release of the longer cut of The Shining, expect to see the shorter cut to disappear from existence. And did you know that there's a third version that had an alternate ending that was trimmed from all prints a week after its US release?

APOCALYPSE NOW (1979, Francis Ford Coppola)

As far as I'm aware, there are four versions of this film lying around, the longest being a five hour workprint that you can probably bit torrent now from bad VHS dupes. But Coppola re-released the original theatrical and the Redux edition together. Which one's better? For my money, I prefer the theatrical release, as Sheen just comes out as a mean brooding muthafucka. Redux is good to have, but for me, that music in the French plantation scene just spoiled the entire mood of the flick and the film never recovered completely from that moment on. Currently available on DVD but without the excellent Hearts of Darkness documentary included, what really spoils the film is cinematographer Vittorio Storraro's insistence that the film be transferred at his preferred retrospective Univisium 2:1 aspect ratio instead of 2.35:1 of its original release. If you want to see it properly, best to record a HD broadcast straight onto your hard drive, cause Storraro ain't having you watch it any other way.

EXORCIST 4 (2005, Renny Harlin, Paul Schrader)

Orson Welles had his ending for The Magnificent Ambersons re-shot by a studio hack, but enough of the film survived to be eventually regarded as a butchered classic. When Paul Schrader was kicked off the Exorcist prequel by Morgan Creek, rumors started circulating of his cut being some horror classic that had been 99% re-shot by studio hack Renny Harlin. A vocal internet campaign and the disastrous reception of the Harlin version resulted in Schrader's film being released to re-coup some of Morgan Creek's investment in the film, but the response was indifferent. Harlin's cut is goofy fun, with OTT sequences that make no sense but do crank up some foley effect on the soundtrack. Schrader's is Bergmanesque in comparison, interesting to watch and with a great performance by French pop star Billy Crawford as the possessed boy in need of exorcism. Both prequels are interesting to see a study in rhythm: Harlin has the actors play it fast and cuts every couple of seconds, whilsts Schrader meditates on his scenes, trying to build the tension up slowly.

TOUCH OF EVIL (1958, Orson Welles)

Orson Welles' sleazy cop thriller was first known only in a ninety-minute version, then in an extended 108-min cut that was found and re-released in 1976, but cineastes had to wait until 1998, when Rick Schmidlin and Walter Murch did a re-cut of the film based on a fifty-eight-page memo that Welles had sent the studio. (Needless to say, the studio ignored him completely.) After the restoration was released, the 1976 cut was retired to the vault, and what a pity that was. I'm not a fan of the restored edition; the limitations of the picture restoration can be seen in the opening sequence, when the picture softens at each point where a title had originally appeared. But the worse aspect is the removal of the excellent Henry Mancini score. Universal has no plans to re-release both cuts on DVD so until then, compare both openings and see what you'd like.

Click here for Part 2!

Trailer Review: Red Cliff

John Constantine — Mon, 04 Feb 2008 19:03:00 GMT

After 2003’s Ben Affleck vehicle Paycheck, the worst of the Philip K. Dick adaptations, John Woo disappeared. He took his guns and his doves and seemingly went back up the mountain to live out his days in peace, producing movies and not directing. Who could blame him? Woo spent close to a decade making American action trash when a new generation of Hong Kong action — movies that owe more than a little to Woo’s legacy — gained mainstream acceptance in the same market. Looks like John’s coming back down from the mountain with Red Cliff, his first Chinese-language film since Hard-Boiled. From this trailer, the movie looks very promising, a historical epic that eschews the neon bombast of recent Asian entries in the genre and replaces it with western grit. Despite the apparent influence of Ridley Scott though, Cliff also looks to capture some of the classic melodrama of '60s and '70s Hong Kong historical action. Here’s hoping it’s as good as it looks here.

You can check out the trailer at Yahoo Taiwan here.

It’s good to have you back, John.

American Lawsuit

Phil Nugent — Thu, 24 Jan 2008 19:00:00 GMT

Ridley Scott's American Gangster, ostensibly based on the real story of the '70s drug dealer Frank Lucas, ends with Lucas (Denzel Washington) basically joining forces with Richie Roberts (Russell Crowe), the detective who's nailed him, by agreeing to testify against their shared enemies, the crooked lawmen who shake down crooks and sneer at clean cops. The movie wraps up its story with a series of titles that state that "three-quarters of the drug enforcement agents assigned to New York" wound up being convicted thanks to Lucas' testimony. The DEA and its agents are pissed off about this, and they're not settling for barging into Scott's home and shooting his dog; a bunch of former feds have filed a class-action defamation lawsuit against the movie. The suit charges that "the defamation involved the defendant NBC Universal, through its Universal Studios, falsely communicating, in writing, to millions of people in a motion picture called American Gangster that three-quarters of New York City's DEA, from approximately 1973 through approximately 1985, were convicted criminals."

Dominic Amoroso, a former federal prosecutor who tried Lucas and is now representing the agents in their claim, says that, with regard to the titles suggested that Lucas' testimony brought down crooked feds, "No such thing ever occurred. Not a single agent of New York City's DEA, or any other law enforcement officer, was convicted of anything based upon the so-called 'collaboration' of Lucas and Roberts. Nor was a single agent of New York City's DEA or officer of the NYPD convicted in any case or investigation involving Frank Lucas whether based upon a collaboration of Lucas and Roberts or any other resource." NBC Universal earlier blew off the agents' demand for a retraction and an apology by issuing a statement that read in part, "The film in no way charges or even insinuates wrongdoing on the part of the federal Drug Enforcement Administration. " Assuming that someone at Universal has actually seen the movie, this would seem to apply that the studio heads and its lawyers do not regard graft, theft, and violent shakedowns as "wrongdoing", which, depending on how long they've been working in Hollywood, might not be implausible.

Morning Deal Report: Golden Globes Take a Fall

Peter Smith — Tue, 08 Jan 2008 16:05:00 GMT

Annnnd, the Golden Globes bite it. I'm all in favor of awards shows kerploding; the only concern is that the writers will get blamed for pooping the party, when they really have every reason to be striking. But this'll cost the studios a lot of money and promotion. Maybe it'd be easier to just pay the writers for their work? No?

Karyn Kusama (Girlfight. . . and Aeon Flux) will direct Jennifer's Body, ~~Brook Busey-Hunt's~~ Diablo Cody's follow-up to Juno.

Ridley Scott just never slows down, huh? His next project is The Reykjavik Summit, about Reagan and Gorbachev's '86 nuke talks. Ridley Scott made some of my favorite movies, but political acuity is not is strong suit. When this turns out to be a Reagan hagiography, I'm gonna barf.

Inspired by a True Story, and Improved On

Phil Nugent — Wed, 02 Jan 2008 21:00:00 GMT

Ann Hornaday measures the differing approaches to factual accuracy in recent movies claiming to be "based on a true story", an old-fashioned turn of phrase that has of late been retrofitted to read "inspired by true events", or even, in the case of I'm Not There, "Inspired by the music & many lives of Bob Dylan." Historical inaccuracy in historical movies is nothing new--Cecil D. DeMille told a few stretchers in his time--and it's not always reprehensible. Hornaday writes that "Accuracy is the great bugaboo of biopics and historical dramas, whose standards of success lie in how well they tell a story, not how closely they adhere to the facts. Filmmakers should excise, compress and invent -- in other words, lie -- only when they have to, and only to support, rather than weaken, the story's factual, historical framework." Still, some of the decisions filmmakers make can leave you guessing; what notion of larger truth did Ridley Scott think he was serving with American Gangster, when he chose to alter the private life and personal style of the drug dealer Frank Lucas to make him seem classier and more admirable, while at the same time cooking up a phony, messy back story for the cop who arrested Lucas to turn him into a dysfunctional slob? Whatever their motives, filmmakers as a rule seem to have no problem heeding the words of Kasi Lemmons, whose recent Talk to Me was criticized by survivors of its real-life hero, Petey Green, and who had a ready answer as to why she hadn't sought them out or read Green's autobiography: "I thought I might get distracted with too much reality."

When Good Directors Go Bad: 1492: Conquest of Paradise (1992, Ridley Scott)

Peter Smith — Tue, 04 Dec 2007 18:00:00 GMT

The setup: To celebrate the 500th anniversary of Columbus' discovery of the New World, Paramount Pictures needed a filmmaker who could be counted upon to create a handsome and commercial film about the great man and his momentous voyage. Who better than Ridley Scott, a dependable stylist best known for Alien and Blade Runner, and whose faltering career had been revived the prior year with the critical and audience favorite Thelma and Louise?

What went wrong: Scott, for all his directing skill, has always been a journeyman, making films from material originated by others. Because of this, the screenplays are usually the keys to his films' success. While no one would deny that Columbus' story lends itself well to cinema, the 1492 script (credited to Roselyne Bosch) simply isn't very good, and Scott was unfortunately unable to cover that up with style.

One problem was the film's conception of Columbus himself. The real-life Columbus was a forward-thinking man, but he was also highly ambitious, and the film glosses over this aspect of his personality. Instead of a portrait of a man driven by his nature to seek greatness, 1492 gives us Columbus, the passionate idealist, selflessly dreaming of the future. The film's star, Gerard Depardieu, could have given us a fierce, larger-than-life Columbus, but he's largely called upon to play twinkly-eyed in the early scenes and disillusioned in the later ones.

Additionally, even with a two-and-a-half-hour running time, 1492 feels rushed. One never really feels the strain of the long ocean voyages — after the first one, Scott does away with them altogether. Likewise, character development is largely dictated through tonsorial choices — whereas Columbus shares the shaggy look of the men he commands, the bad guys invariably sport eccentric, intricate beards and hairdos. The most surprising thing about the violent, sneeringly-entitled nobleman Moxica (played by Michael Wincott) is that he doesn't have a mustache to twirl along with his Slayer-worthy flowing black hair. And Sigourney Weaver, playing Queen Isabella, has so little to work with that she mostly looks lost.

Finally, a lot of the film is hard to take seriously. Consider the scene in which a fist fight breaks out in a monastery; or the hurricane sequence, during which Columbus' native translator runs away after admonishing him, "You never learned my language;" or practically every scene involving Moxica or the sinister judge Bobadilla (Mark Margolis). 1492 tried to be the definitive Columbus movie, but the best it could manage was to be the best Columbus movie of 1992, and since the competition was Christopher Columbus: The Discovery, that's nothing to write home about.

The fallout: 1492: Conquest of Paradise failed with critics and bombed at the box office, and Scott floundered for the rest of the decade before he came roaring back with 2000's Best Picture Oscar-winner Gladiator. His most recent film, American Gangster, is currently in theatres.

— Paul Clark

Morning Deal Report: If Christian Bale Can Learn the Value of Human Life. . . Maybe We Can Too

Peter Smith — Mon, 03 Dec 2007 16:00:00 GMT

Rumor apparently had it right: Christian Bale is joining Terminator 4 as John Connor. This makes him the fifth person to play the character, after Nick Stahl in the odious Terminator 3, Eddie Furlong and whoever played the older version in Terminator 2, and the twinkle in Michael Biehn's eye in The Terminator.

Ridley Scott's directing a movie about the Gucci family. Seems like a risky move for a director often accused of being all style and no substance.

IFC will distribute Johnnie To's Mad Detective.

— Peter Smith

American Gangster vs. Mr. Untouchable

Peter Smith — Mon, 26 Nov 2007 19:00:00 GMT

A few weeks ago, we reported here on the ongoing rivalry between Nicky Barnes and Frank Lucas, who were both drug dealers in the New York of the 1970s. Both men were eventually arrested and imprisoned, after which both turned snitch, ratted out their former associates, and are both now "retired" and back out in the world. This is of interest to us mainly because both men are also the subjects of movies — the high-profile Ridley Scott epic American Gangster and the documentary Mr. Untouchable — that opened within a week of each other. As part of the publicity for each movie, both men have been granting interviews in which they've talked about the bad old days and also jockeyed for position as the real ultimate big-city badass of their era. But of course, given the Screen Grab's recognized and unquestioned authority on movies and everything else fly, they have both secretly been sitting on the edge of their seats, nervously waiting to hear what we think. First, just to state the obvious and get it out of the way: both men are sociopathic predators and dishonored tattletales, who should in no way be mistaken for glamorous figures or role models. But a job's a job. There can be only one.

THE MOVIE: American Gangster, directed by Ridley Scott; written by Steve Zaillian

OUR HERO: Frank Lucas, as played by Denzel Washington, is a smooth, well-dressed powder keg of an urban entrepreneur, more Fortune 500 than Detroit 9000. The only time he casts off his smart suits is to attend the Ali-Frazier fight in a white Super Fly ensemble that sits on him about as comfortably as tight jeans and a wifebeater might have on Cary Grant. (The movie stresses that this was his wife's idea; after the clown clothes earn Frank some unwanted attention, he goes right home and literally throws them in the fireplace.) Though Washington gets to have a few violent tantrums — and, in a moment of purely calculated coldness, lays claim to supremacy on his turf by casually shooting a rival in the head in front of about a hundred witnesses — the performance has none of the scary volatility of his bad cop in Training Day. The movie seems to want you to like him, and to make sure the mainstream audience likes him, it defines his ambitions in terms of upper-middle class acquisition: a beautiful wife and home, a nice place for his momma (Ruby Dee), a low profile.

HIS BETE NOIRE: Nicky Barnes is played here by Cuba Gooding, Jr., which is kind of a slap in the face right there. Actually, as is often the case, Gooding's acting is much better than his track record at selecting his roles. He's brooding and charismatic, albeit in a ridiculous, coked-up way. He goes in for the Super Fly flashiness that Frank rejects. At one point, he's seen at a party proudly handing out copies of The New York Times Magazine with his picture on the cover — a nod to an actual incident that insiders will recognize as having marked the beginning of the end for Barnes. It was after seeing Barnes's posed picture on the cover, alongside the legend "Mr. Untouchable", that President Carter got on the phone to the Justice Department and ordered them to make Barnes priority number one.

THE MILIEU: Production-designed to death but with little sense of breathable air, American Gangster recalls the Elvis Mitchell line about applying grit with an aerosol can. The most disappointing thing about it is that the fine supporting cast is largely wasted; there's really nobody in the movie but Washington as Lucas and Russell Crowe as Richie Roberts, the New Jersey police detective on his trail. Scott inflates their starry icons until they blot out the sun, as well as the supporting actors.

THE END: No spoiler warning here; the fact that Lucas (like Barnes) was busted and turned state's witness has been widely reported in the publicity surrounding the movie. What counts is how the moviemakers treat this less-than-heroic aspect of their story. It must be said that they wimp out. In real life, not only did Lucas sing for a reduced sentence, but the actual Richie Roberts retired from the force to become a defense attorney and accepted a fat fee from Lucas to represent him at trial. The way the movie presents it, the drug dealer and the good cop join forces because they recognize a common enemy: the bad cops who have been making Roberts's life miserable while shaking down Lucas. The movie comes dangerously close to presenting Lucas as just a successful businessman who made himself rich the only way white society would allow him to do it, and whose testimony against others wipes the slate clean.

THE MOVIE: Mr. Untouchable, directed by Marc Levin

OUR HERO: Nicky Barnes, who details his life while protectively photographed in shadows. Much of the time, we only see his bony, expressive hands working as he tells his tale and offers his justifications for what he's done. He lived big, and now it's over, but no matter what he says, he leaves you with the feeling that he thinks it was worth it. He offers a compelling picture of a megalomaniacal sociopath who's outlived the good times.

HIS BETE NOIRE: Whereas American Gangster treats Nicky Barnes as a fact of life in Frank Lucas's world, someone who may be treated dismissively but cannot be ignored, Lucas is only mentioned glancingly in Mr. Untouchable, Barnes speaks of him with the contempt one usually reserves for something unpleasant that's gotten stuck to one's shoe, and mocks the idea that Frank would ever have done anything so disrespectful as to have put out a contract on him, as Lucas has claimed. Also, a single photograph of Lucas is briefly shown. He's wearing the same stupid-looking coat and hat that Denzel wears on fight night, and to say that he at least looks at home in that getup is to acknowledge that he doesn't look very Denzelesque.

THE MILIEU: Since Mr. Untouchable is a documentary about people who weren't often recording their illegal activities with camcorders, much of the period atmosphere must be laid in with old news footage and photos and such, but it does have what American Gangster sorely needs, and what every good crime picture thrives on: a teeming and colorful supporting cast. That includes not just Barnes's former colleagues (one of whom is named Frank James) and his ex-wife, Thelma Grant, whose picture ought to be in the dictionary next to the entry on "gangsta love", but such characters as Bob Geronimo, who walked into the offices of the DEA to volunteer his services as an undercover informant and bring Barnes's and his whole organization down after one of Barnes's lieutenants, seriously underestimating the man's ability to hold a grudge, stole his car. (Geronimo's code name on the operation was "Barbarino", as in John Travolta's character on Welcome Back, Kotter. This information is supplied by a fed who adds that he was never clear on why somebody whose real name was "Geronimo" needed a code name.) Incidentally, Geronimo and others who worked to bring Barnes down agreed to be filmed in full light, which makes or a sly, unspoken comment on Barnes's preferring to linger in shadows. The filmmakers also interviewed Barnes' lawyer, David Breitbart, who supplies his version of the New York Times Magazine cover picture story: he had advised Barnes not to co-operate with the paper and told the photographers to stay the hell away from his client until A. M. Rosenthal himself called up and informed him that unless Barnes agreed to come in to pose, they'd use the mug shot he had taken after he was arrested for murder, a photo that was taken after he was roused from bed in the middle of the night "and it looks like he ate the victim's eyeballs."

THE END: The movie doesn't try to sell Barnes's decision to testify against others as a heroic crime-busting operation, but it makes it seem something other than cowardly by stressing that it was, in fact, an act of revenge: rightly or wrongly, Barnes felt that those still on the outside (including his wife) were screwing him over and wanted payback. He broke his whole operation himself just to show how bad he was. The movie also differs from American Gangster by balancing his say with the testimony of those he turned on.

THE VERDICT: It seems clear that of the two gentlemen in question, Nicky Barnes is the more deserving of the title Mr. Ultimate Seventies Badass Heroin Dealer Turned Squealer. His mother must be so proud.

— Phil Nugent