Fritz Lang directs Edward G. Robinson, Joan Bennett and Dan Duryea in this film noir where a beautiful grifter thinks she has sunk her hooks into a wealthy artist only for her unwitting meal ticket to be a henpecked salary man who paints as a hobby.
So many narrative curveballs. Could easily be an Ealing comedy if it wasn’t for its hard boiled setting and disturbing denouement. Lang has oodles to say here about masculinity. A landscape where the aged and the corrupt are both cowards yet a “bad” girl’s only choices. Bennett is playful and smoking as the honeytrap. Streetwise but bamboozled by the big picture. Jeepers! I enjoyed this so much for a hundred little reasons, looking forward to revisiting it already.
Phillip Noyce directs Pierce Brosnan, James Caan and Morena Baccarin in this crime caper where an ageing mob fixer needs to navigate a hostile takeover in Orlando.
Very Elmore Leonard light, could also be a sparklier post Taken era Liam Neeson vehicle. Brosnan still has spades of movie star twinkle in the bank and the movie thrives from his relaxed, handsome presence. It is daft and intense and cool in a perfunctory way. Filled a movie night for me and my Dad perfectly. Only the sight of a near death Caan forcing one out for the impending inheritance tax fees adds a strange pall to this.
Otto Preminger directs Gene Tierney, José Ferrer, Richard Conte, Dana Andrews, Gary Merrill and Burt Freed in this pair of film noirs written by Ben Hecht.
On paper, Whirlpool is the more interesting thriller of the pair. A hypnotised housewife is framed for murder by a criminal mastermind. Ferrer’s oily, ratty charm dominating as everyone scrambles for a way to disprove his cast iron alibi. “How’s he gonna catch ’em”! Preminger apes Hitch’s obsession for the fad of psychoanalysis. I don’t think Otto is quite as spellbound. He seems sated exposing the rotten lie of suburban happiness. The trad wife facade torn to strips over the story. Twisty. Add in Mulder and Scully and it could easily be the basis of a memorable episode of The X Files. Preminger’s framing is rich and deep though the plot sidelines the two most captivating stars for the second half and that hobbles the entire endeavour.
Where The Sidewalk Ends is tougher and more in keeping with what you might hope for from a noir. Foggy, shadows, murders, gangsters, doubles and switches. There’s even a couple of action set pieces. Though Preminger is less bothered by reality than Hitch or Lang. A cop needs to cover up a manslaughter only to put the woman he loves in the soup with his machinations. Watching Andrews wade deeper into quicksand has its pleasures, he begins to resemble his dead body more and more as the net closes in on him. The Hays Code ending let’s this down a little. He deserves his redemption after all that. Awesome in spits and spots.
I’m not going to lie. I didn’t borrow these for Hecht or Otto. I’m all about the flawless enigma that is Gene Tierney. The first half of Whirlpool delivers. She is complex as the fragile, psychologically crippled housewife. Then eerily blank once she is arrested. The movie feels her absence once her plank of a husband takes centre stage to solve the mystery. She is spread about Where The Sidewalk Ends far more judiciously though the good girl role isn’t particularly exciting. As trophies go she is indisputably worth running the gauntlet for. Her and Andrews have chemistry at least.
Frank Capra directs Clark Gable, Claudette Colbert and Walter Connolly in this romantic comedy where an heiress goes on the run and a journalist helps her get home for the scoop.
The synoptic romcom. This has all the tropes before they were tropes. Patented the formula. Who cares? The last days of pre-code freedom fizz through this. The sexual tension / attraction between a never better Gable and Colbert is palpable from the off. Then just blossoms and blooms. There are half a dozen classic comedy set pieces. I love it.
Bong Joon-ho directs Robert Pattinson, Robert Pattinson and Naomi Ackie in this sci-fi satire where the lowliest crew member of a space expedition is replaced by a clone every time he dies in service.
My expectations were high and not solely due to Parasite. I have been a fan of Bong since Memories Of Murder. Mickey 17 too often feels like retreading old ground for him. Snowpiercer and Okja did all this better, with more action, anarchy and visual elan. This is fuzzy grey, it drags. Pattinson does interesting work in the dual roles, there are loads of hints of a troubled production. This has been reshot. Some threads are left hanging frustratingly, others forgotten.
Clark Gregg directs Sam Rockwell, Kelly Macdonald and Anjelica Huston in this comedy where a sex-addicted con-man pays for his mother’s hospital bills by playing on the sympathies of those who rescue him from choking to death.
We have had only two Hollywood feature films based on the literary works by Chuck Palahniuk. Both are controversial, satirical and unpredictable. Surely we can get another few adaptations? Lullaby would be my shout. This is a lot more down to earth and indiemovieTM than Fight Club. Yet Rockwell, Huston and Macdonald bring it. Make it worth a look.
Producer Don Boyd gathers together the talents of John Hurt, Jean-Luc Godard, Lenzi Drew, Nicolas Roeg, Theresa Russell, Robert Altman, Elizabeth Hurley, Julien Temple, Buck Henry, Beverly D’Angelo, Anita Morris, Ken Russell, Bridget Fonda and Franc Roddam to make this near- speechless anthology film set to classical music.
What a mixed bag. This is quite derided but actually only a few sequences outstay their welcome. Robert Altman’s bedlam theatre audience doesn’t have much more to say after the first shot. There were tidbits I really enjoyed. Roeg and Russell are the most formally accomplished in a gender bending period intrigue. Roddam and Fonda drive through Las Vegas in a simple but sincere rock n roll, sex and death road movie. Julien Temple’s high camp adultery farce is memorable. Ken Russell and Jean-Luc Godard compete for the most bonkers entry, our Ken pips the Nouvelle Vague disruptor to the post via sheer opulent excess but it is a close run race. And amongst loads of gleeful gratuitous nudity we get to see young Elizabeth Hurley completely starkers. 10 out of 10. The whole thing works less well as a cinematic art installation and far better as pretentious soft core erotica.
Todd Solondz directs Jane Adams, Philip Seymour Hoffman and Dylan Baker in this dark indie comedy where a gaggle of suburbanites are cruel and lonely.
The above is not even my favourite one sheet for this horrible little movie. Hilarious bitter poison where the most engaging, sympathetic character is a conniving nonce. Really a sketch show of abrasive scenes. Often deadpan, often brilliant. It can be overwhelmingly evil. I keep coming back to this like a car crash. Hoffman’s sweaty acting is particularly good.
Ettore Scola directs Sophia Loren, Marcello Mastroianni and John Vernon in this Italian drama where a housewife and a bachelor finds themselves alone in their housing complex on the day of Hitler’s visit to Rome.
Fascist Before Sunrise. Also middle aged and trapped to one location. This is intimate but powerful. There are revelations and depressing inevitabilities. The finest performance from Loren I have seen. The cinematography has a golden hue, like memories reflected in a shiny locket.
Leonard Nimoy directs William Shatner, himself and DeForest Kelley in this sci-fi sequel where the crew of the Enterprise must travel back in time to Eighties’ San Francisco to save the whales.
Often held up as the crowd pleasing pinnacle of the franchise, this is actually a little weak. Proficient but no great shakes. The fish out of water comedy is thin and uninspired. The space battle stuff… a mere bookend. I’ll always want to hang out with the crew but this entry is the epitome of overrated. Bizarrely it started out at Paramount Pictures as a mooted crossover between the Trek universe and their then big star Eddie Murphy. That is the version of this movie that I crave.
6
Perfect Double Bill: Star Trek V: The Final Frontier (1989)
Bobby Carroll's Movie Diary 