Rate The Last Movie You Saw

Billy Rose's Jumbo (1962)




I'd seen documentaries about Jumbo the elephant that were absolutely fascinating (and heart breaking) so I was looking forward to seeing his story told in this movie.

I was disappointed to find there is absolutely nothing about the real life Jumbo in this film (so points off for not telling any of the real story about the title character). In this movie "Jumbo" is just a non-specific elephant that belongs to the circus in the story... I'm not even sure if it's even supposed to be the same elephant as the real one that was ultimately owned by P.T. Barnum. The real Jumbo was an African elephant, but the one in this movie is an Indian elephant.



The movie is based on a stage play and still comes off that way. It almost plays like a series of colorful vaudeville skits (or more accurately circus performances) with a loose plot interspersed between acts & musical numbers. As a musical it's top notch, as a story there's not much to it. The entertainment factor lies in all the acts & costumes you get to see. There IS an elephant and he does some tricks, but he hardly rates as title material. This would be a good movie to keep kids entertained.

By A24 - https://www.imdb.com/title/tt5340300/, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=55571524


Lean on Pete - (2017)

I'd be happy if this appeared on the Mofo Top 100 Movies of the 2010s Countdown, but it's a tall order. Absolutely loved watching this as much the 2nd time as I did the 1st - Charlie Plummer is a wonderful young talent. His lonely struggles with his father, and later with racehorse owner Del (Steve Buscemi) are so real and grounded it's easy to get lost in this film's world. The kind of movie that really invites you in to experience the emotions of the main protagonist - especially with him being a young guy who falls in love with horses destined to be put down, and one who tries to save Pete. This young guy - Charley Thompson - faces tragedies that come on top of an already precarious existence with his broke father, and he faces a fight to survive physically, let alone psychologically. It's the metaphysical equivalent of climbing a sheer cliff face, and we're with Charley every step of the way. Plummer really brings it home, as do all facets of Lean on Pete - it's sound, sight and direction by Andrew Haigh.

8/10


By Movieposter.com, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=12487804

The Life of David Gale - (2003)

The Life of David Gale has numerous problems, not least of which is the casting of Kevin Spacey as a convicted rapist and murderer on death row. "He fits the role perfectly!" you might be thinking, but this film is a 'proving his innocence' thriller with Kate Winslet playing an integrity-bound journalist searching for the truth. You'll never be on this guy's side, just by virtue of who is playing him. In any event, I guessed what the twist was going to be in the last act far too easily. David Gale (Spacey) is university professor and anti-death penalty crusader who appears to have been framed for rape and murder. A previous rape set-up had him divorced, estranged from his child, and an unemployed alcoholic before the murder rap came - and the victim was his best friend - fellow crusader Constance Harraway (Laura Linney). If you stop and think, you'll figure out where all of this is going. Hale's story by itself is interesting, but the thriller it makes up a part of is kind of hackneyed and tired. Melissa McCarthy makes an appearance (an early one for her) and absolutely nails it - a weird comedic moment for a film like this - that is why it has the extra 0.5.

5.5/10

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3 Godfathers (1948)

I god damn love that film.

Avatar: The Way of Water is an epic sci-fi spectacle that continues the story of Jake Sully and Neytiri, who now have raised five children to young adulthood, a couple of which were adopted. As the leader of the Na'Vi, Jake is being hunted by humans, so he decides to find a new home to keep his family safe. They settle in with a new tribe on an island nation and learn their way of life. Some new conflicts start and some old ones come back to haunt the Sully family.

Like the first Avatar, The Way of Water is a hugely impressive technical achievement that is best seen in 3D on a large screen. The special effects are so good that it's hard to believe how little of it is physically real. The higher frame rate adds to the overall fidelity and I assume it helps blend the different visual effects together. Plus, I think less motion blur in a 3D movie is easier on your eyes.

The story in Way of Water feels pretty similar to the original, as we get to watch the main characters explore an alien culture and eventually they have to defend it from humans trying to unethically harvest its resources. Where it excels though is in balancing its large cast of characters. Everyone is given moments to shine and I was emotionally invested in each of their journeys by the end. It made the big dramatic moments effective for me.

I was starting to feel the length of the movie halfway through, but it all pays off in an amazing last hour. Cameron has a great eye for large-scale action and the climax here might be his crowning achievement. Despite how much is going on, it's always easy to see moments of great impact.

Overall, I really enjoyed Avatar: The Way of Water and I'll buy a ticket for as many sequels as James Cameron ends up making.

The Night House, 2020

Beth (Rebecca Hall) is a high school teacher who is reeling from the sudden death by suicide of her husband, Owen (Evan Jonigkeit). As she begins to sort through his things, Beth discovers a series of disturbing items, such as photos of other women, and strange floor plans related to their home. Suffering from strange dreams and visions, Beth tries to unravel her husband's secrets.

This is a solid haunted house tale, anchored by the always-reliable Rebecca Hall. In the end, though, it did leave me a bit wanting.

My only real issues came in the very last act and where the film concludes. But up to that point, the movie is full of disturbing and satisfying imagery. There are oodles of spooky things to be found here: floor plans mixed with notes about ancient mazes; fetishized statues with nails driven through them; stereos that turn themselves on in the middle of the night.

Hall is very strong as Beth, and she captures a kind of jangly impulsiveness that allows you to not sit there saying "Why didn't she just XYZ?". It's a performance that doesn't make you question, for example, why Beth doesn't call the police at a certain moment, or why she walks away from a seemingly strange and important clue about her husband's state of mind.

I also enjoyed Sarah Goldberg in a supporting role as Beth's best friend and co-worker, Claire. In a movie like this, you basically suspect that anyone might be a villain or an accomplice, and I really enjoyed Goldberg's take on the character. Likewise Vondie Curtis-Hall as Beth's lakeside neighbor, Mel, and Stacy Martin as a woman who looks a lot like Beth and who may have been having an affair with Owen.

The character of Owen is tricky. From the first minutes of the movie, he is no longer alive. What we do see of his is in glimpses of old home videos and distorted voices or visions. Jonigkeit is certainly handsome and does a good job of looking dark and mysterious, but knowing so little about him made it hard to know how to feel about the way he was shown in the visions.

Unfortunately, as things begin to get explained in the last act, the film lost me a bit. While I'd been along for the ride up to this point, I started having some bothersome questions. (MAJOR SPOILERS!!!!)

Definitely an easy recommend for any horror fans, but I wish I'd been more satisfied with the last half hour.

30th Hall of Fame (REWATCH)

Dead Man's Letters (1986) -

My interest for this film was piqued once I learned that some elements of it were reminiscent of Tarkovsky's Stalker, my #1 film of all time. When I first watched it, I felt it was a lesser Stalker (though still very good), but after I revisited it a couple years later, I ended up giving it a 10/10 and it landed in my all-time top 20. The more I think about it, the more I wish that other people would know about it.

The main thing which keeps me coming back to this film is how well it maintains such a bleak and depressing atmosphere throughout its entirety. Most people in this film had a nihilistic view on life and doubted that there was any hope for humanity. This seemed to be the prevailing attitude amongst most of the survivors we saw in the film except for the main character, Larsen, who believed that other surviving humans existed outside the central bunker and the town he lived in and that their species wasn't doomed. While much of his arc consisted of him trying to convince the people he encountered of his theories to no avail (which made for a number of compelling exchanges, like when a man referenced how Jesus called humanity doomed when he saved them), another handful of scenes featured several intimate moments which detailed his mental state, delivered by the way of the letters he wrote to his son. While the biting knowledge that his son might never read them lingered over these scenes, I found them to be pretty compelling in and of themselves. The monologue of how an operator was unable to make it to a computer in time to prevent the first missile strike since he was slowed down by a cup of coffee in his hands stuck out as a brilliant slice of dark humor. It was easily the standout in that regard. I do think a couple bits can come off as fluffy, like Larson reciting a story of how seeing a cow run over by a locomotive when he was little gave him recurring nightmares of a black locomotive just to describe the distance and the insecurities he felt for his son, but for the most part, I think that aspect worked really well, so in the grand scheme of things, I didn't mind it much.



Lopushansky is often thought of as a protégé of Tarkovsky. I see these influences in the style of this film, like some of the long takes, or the ethereal beauty to be found in certain devastated landscapes. The most significant influence is with the sepia filter which permeates throughout most of the film. This was reminiscent of the first act and the ending of Stalker (which, curiously enough, had undertones of a nuclear disaster looming over it). Overall, I found this choice of filter to be a great touch. I was initially bothered by the occasional usages of a blue/purple filter for some scenes, but though this choice is indeed noticeable every time it comes up in the film, I warmed up to it when I rewatched the film. It probably wasn't necessary, but it didn't distract me either. It's just more of the film's atmospheric design. Beyond the sepia filter though, beauty could be found in several other shots in the film, like an early tracking shot which followed Larsen out of the museum and eventually revealed the full extent to the destruction and immensity of it, a hypnotic shot of an emotionally defeated Larsen as a trickle of water ran down his head and body, and the climactic shots in the library where the camera pulled back and revealed the massive scope of the room. The film's style was packed with several types of greatness and it stuck out as one of the film's main strengths.

Overall, I feel no shame in being an ardent supporter of this film. The more I think about it, the more sad I feel that it isn't regularly considered to be a classic of Soviet cinema since I think it holds up with the best of the country's output. Here's hoping it eventually grows in popularity though.

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The Island of Lost Souls, 1932

Edward Parker (Richard Arlen) is the victim of a shipwreck. He's picked up by a ship, but the temperamental captain forces him off the boat and onto a small island where he's taken in by Dr. Moreau (Charles Laughton) and his assistant, Montgomery (Arthur Hohl). But the island is filled with strange men (and one woman named Lota (Kathleen Burke)) who seem to be not fully human. And on this island, all of the strange creatures speak with fear of Dr. Moreau's "House of Pain."

This is a creepy, icky adaptation of the novel The Island of Dr. Moreau. It's been way too long since I read the original novel to critique it as an adaptation, but overall I found it very effective.

There are a lot of ways that the events and themes in the film can be read. The aspect that most struck me was the cruelty that people can be capable of when they set a goal and become determined to see it through. Moreau has discovered a method for turning animals into people (or something like people). But why? His process is time-consuming, dangerous, and physical and psychological torture for its victims. There are plenty of real-life example of past and present experimentation on people and animals for reasons that do not at all seem to justify the cruelties involved.

Laughton is imposing and despicable as Moreau. As the film goes on, it becomes more and more clear that he's hoping to get Edward (who is engaged to be married), to have sex with Lota. The entire scenario is uncomfortable and sad.

I had mixed feelings about the way that the "humanized" creatures are also at times racialized. The manner of speech that they are given and the rituals we are shown are evocative of stereotypes about tribal people, and at the same time meant to illustrate how primitive they are and how sub-human. Lota, despite not actually being a real human, slots neatly into the "naive native" trope, complete with skimpy outfit and "primitive" sexual desires.

I was also a bit put off by the ending, in which it is implied that .

Even with those complaints, though, this was an effective sci-fi thriller. Arlen is a bit dull as the lead, but the story around him is compelling and horrifying.

The Ninth Configuration, 1980

At the close of the Vietnam War, a former marine named Kane (Stacy Keach) arrives at a remote castle that's acting as a mental institution for members of the military. Kane becomes very interested in a man named Cutshaw (Scott Wilson), a military astronaut who bailed out of a shuttle launch after having a breakdown in the moments leading up to the launch. As he tries to help the men in his care, Kane begins having strange visions and questioning his own mental wellbeing.

Basically my only experience with this film over the years has been the really famous image from it of the astronaut on the moon facing a crucified Jesus Christ. It's one heck of an image, and I've always been intrigued by the film. Ultimately I really enjoyed it, even if I'm not 100% sure it achieves the kind of closure on its themes that it wants to.

Keach makes for a very engaging lead. He strikes just the right note of authority and empathy as he deals with the eccentric inhabitants of the castle. Wilson is also a highly sympathetic character---I really felt his anguish at having experienced a deep existential crisis when faced with the prospect of traveling to (and possibly dying in) the emptiness of space. I found his monologue around that moment to be very powerful.

Imagery-wise, the film has a lot more up its sleeve than just the astronaut/Jesus tableau (though, yes, it is the standout). There are some great, disturbing flashes that Kane sees in his dreams. There are some really great shots using extreme angles, showing how Kane sees the inmates and how they see him.

When it comes to the plot and the film's themes of loneliness and resolution and healing, the movie goes to mostly some very expected places, but it's not unsatisfying.

I often feel torn when movies take place in mental institutions. Too often, it feels as if the film is having fun at the expense of people who are mentally ill, making them totally outlandish characters and getting cheap laughs out of their eccentricities. This film does fall into that trap quite a bit, for example featuring an inmate named Reno (Jason Miller) who is determined to put on Shakespearean productions starring dogs. Miller has good comedic timing, and, sure, a line about wanting an actor to play Laertes, "a Pekingese", is funny. But there was a bit too much of it for my taste. I can appreciate that these characters add to the surreal nature of the hospital's environment, but at times it's too glib of a way to treat people with serious mental health problems.

The film also features a long, excruciating and memorable sequence where Cutshaw sneaks out to a bar where he is recognized and then harassed by a biker gang. When Kane shows up to try and rescue him, the two are subjected to a series of assaults and humiliations. The tension in the scene is not just about the safety of Cutshaw and Kane--it's about wondering how far the two men can be bullied and pushed before one of them snaps. Part of you begs for violence, to see these awful people put in their place. But another part of you knows that for Cutshaw or Kane, such violence would be a point of no return.

Overall this was an engaging thriller with sympathetic performances and some very impactful moments.

This is gonna be long, sorry.


Finally.
When I saw the trailer for this film a few years ago I was struck and vowed to see it. I even recommended to a friend that they check it out even though I had not seen it myself. And then things and stuff and stuff and things. And it sat in my queue and I thought about watching it many times but I really had the feeling it was going to be special so I kept putting it off for the right moment.
And then Sight & Sound, blah, blah, blah.
So here we are.
Finally.

I chose the poster above because all other posters are spoilers. Whether or not they spoil the plot is irrelevant, they spoil the way the film reveals Heloise, which is one of the many wonderful things about this film. It is a disservice to one's self to see Heloise before Sciamma is ready for you to. Thus, this "alternate" poster.
There are a lot of things I could say about this film, and I've only seen it once, though I expect that will be remedied shortly. For one, I need to decide just how good I think it really is and I really can't right now. There's too much involved. There is how the movie made me feel which was powerful enough to override almost any criticism I might have. There is all the Sight & Sound baggage which, try as I might, I was not able to compartmentalize, I could not help but watch this movie comparing it every minute to the greatest films ever made. Which is not only not fair to the film but it kinda messes up the viewing experience a little. And then there is the film itself, what is actually on the screen. That's a lot to juggle.

Let me just say what I felt about this movie and then we can go from there. It is beautiful. It is so intentional. It is emotionally powerful. I mean it knocked my ******* socks off.
The photography, lighting, design, editing, and sound/music (combined here and if you see it you'll know why) is gorgeous every freaking step of the way. There are so many shots that are just stunners and the color palette is... I am genuinely having a hard time coming up with a word... it's just perfect that's all I can quite get out. There's gotta be a word for when every color perfectly matches the feeling and mood that it should evoke but does it without being garish or attracting too much attention, it just is. The compositions are excellent, and this brings me to the point of intention actually.
There is so much intention in this film where you can't help but notice how everything on the screen or not on the screen, heard or unheard, is for a reason. This movie is about Love, make no mistake about it, but it is also about painting. And Sciamma makes a point to compose frames that look like paintings of the time.


I mean, come on. Look at that. The movie is like that so much of the time where the characters seem to step into a painting at the exact second that something emotionally meaningful is happening. But it's subtle, you are not beaten over the head with it at all, it's just there and then it's gone, there and then it's gone.
The film has no score and all the (sparse) music is diegetic, which really grounds you in the space the characters are in. You hear nothing they do not hear. So when the music comes, it has purpose and it has power. The first time it's kinda shocking and it's very clever, a great scene. But the second time will knock you on your ass or you have no soul. Seriously. I won't talk about the third.
All of this brings me back to intention. Everything is intentional yet unobtrusive. The men on the boat in the second scene of the film are barely seen, you could not describe their faces, their presence, nay their existence, is unimportant. Yet when her package goes overboard, Marianne, on whom the camera has remained focused goes overboard after it with such suddenness, determination, and fearlessness and sits quietly shivering in the boat without complaint the rest of the way, the tone for the whole film is already set. One of the very first lines in the film, spoken offscreen but in the foreground, is "Take time to look at me." And you know, right then, that that is what this movie is about.
Somehow Sciamma uses this intention to keep you exactly where she wants you such that a movie with no "action" made me gasp out loud in my living room at a moment that was nothing more than a sudden small action with one hand by a character. Out loud, I swear.
If I have a criticism of the film, and I'm not totally sure I do, there could be two. There was one shot I did not care for, which actually says a lot about the film. Every shot was so perfect that to me one stood out because it didn't feel perfect. I'm sure it would be fine in almost any other movie. The other thing, more significantly, was the performance of Noemi Merlant, who has received tremendous praise for this role. In a group of four wonderfully strong but subtle performances, I felt that maybe hers lacked a little subtlety for this film. Her facial expressions sometimes seemed a little too obvious for the character I felt she was at all the other moments. It might be a nit to pick but again, in a film with this much intention and nuance, the slightest thing could stand out and this did to me.

Lastly, I would just like to share how this movie made me feel.
About 2/3-3/4 of the way through the film I texted my friend, to whom I had suggested the film years earlier, this exact statement (I will cut and paste it from our text for authenticity):
"This film has actually made me realize that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be in love."
And honestly, it has had me thinking about it ever since. Love, I mean. It's such a powerful and beautiful portrait of love. And I am a middle-aged divorced man who kinda thinks of that ship as having sailed. But man, this made me remember.

Alas, I cannot say what I think about the movie in an all-time context. Had I seen it before the S&S poll, I think I could have, but I can't now, not without seeing it at least another time and probably not soon. I need distance from both my initial reaction to the film and from the controversy surrounding its quick canonization. My expectations were so high to begin with. And then the list comes out? And then the backlash comes? And I watch the movie right then? That's a lot to bring to a viewing. And, to be honest, I had an expectation in my mind, based on the trailer and my own perspective, as to what this movie was going to be like and it was both like and very unlike what I expected.
In the end, this movie moved me greatly, both with its story and themes and its execution. The love in the film, both romantic and platonic, are truly powerful but so is the art direction and production design and cinematography and editing and direction and acting and sound/music.
It's an awfully good film. I'll leave it there for now.

Good stuff, Woolz. I've seen three Sciamma films so far, you've just convinced me to make it 4.

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Captain's Log
My Collection

Now I wanna watch the other three.

Edit: It is worth mentioning that there are other major themes and wonderful things in the film that I had to leave out entirely because of how much one could say about the film and just run on for the whole freakin' page.

A Town Called Panic. Very good, but I did not have the drugs necessary to fully appreciate it.

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I'm the Yugoslav cinema guy. I dig through garbage. I look for gems.

The Apology, 2022

Darlene (Anna Gunn) is preparing to host Christmas for her relatives. The holiday is a hard one, however, because it is the 19th anniversary of her daughter Sally's (Holland Bailey) disappearance. As a Christmas Eve snowstorm blows in, Darlene's brother-in-law, Jack (Linus Roache) unexpectedly arrives. At first claiming that he's there to patch up long-alienated feelings with the rest of the family, Jack soon reveals that he might know something about Sally's disappearance all those years ago . . .

This is a frustrating movie, because there were a lot of things I liked about it, and yet there is a fundamental flaw in the main dynamic between Darlene and Jack.

Gunn gives a really good performance as Darlene, a woman who has been worn down by years of worry and torment over the loss of her child. An alcoholic who was a serious drinker when Sally disappeared, she has been sober for almost 20 years. At one point, Jack asks her what would make her "whole" again. After thinking for a moment, Darlene answers that nothing could, not even the return of her daughter, because she has lost 20 years with her. At best, she can just hope that she has done everything she could to find her child.

Roache makes Jack very, very easy to hate. As he spoons out details of what he knows about what happened to Sally, he constantly centers the narrative on himself. He frames his motivations as benevolence----telling Darlene things she wants to know---but it's clearly something he's doing for himself. At times, this gives the film a darkly comedic tone. When a distraught, angry Darlene locks Jack in the cellar (the power is out), he yells up at her, "You can't leave me here! I get panic attacks! Panic attacks!".

But a fundamental problem with this movie is that it doesn't make a whole lot of sense. Jack claims to have been motivated by a recent interview Darlene gave, feeling that he needed to come clean about what he knows. But every word out of Jack's mouth and every action shows a person who is completely self-centered. Not for a single second do I believe that this man would actually feel guilt, much less risk his reputation by admitting to having done wrong. It would almost have made more sense of he was presented as a sociopath, taunting Darlene as part of a plan to kill her or something. But that's not the scenario. The film plays this as a genuine desire to confess, and it makes no sense with the character we see.

What really ends up saving the movie is Janeane Garofalo as Darlene's neighbor, Gretchen. She enters the film in the last act and becomes an ally and sounding board for Darlene. While Jack as a character doesn't feel real, Gunn and Garofalo have great chemistry and you instantly believe that these women are friends. There's something really great about how both women make this little eye-contact and shrug when Jack implies that Gretchen is actually gay and that's why she spends so much time with Darlene. These two people are clearly close, long-time friends and that grounds the last act.

Despite being on Shudder, this one feels like more of a drama/thriller. The performances are good, but the premise itself has some serious flaws. A decent last act keeps it afloat, but can't quite make it into something I'd strongly recommend.

Birdboy: The Forgotten Children, 2015

On an island whose ecosystem has been ravaged by an industrial explosion, a group of young animals dreams of a better life. Dinky (Andrea Alzuri), Sandra (Eba Ojanguren), and Little Fox (Josu Cubero) all want to run away. Dinky in particular is friends with Birdboy, who does not speak but is possessed by a bird-like demon due to the explosion.

This is a very rough story to watch, something not at all helped (and in fact made a bit worse) by the child-like, cheerful animation style used to bring it to life.

The film's first two-thirds shows us the lives of the different animal children. We see Dinky and her depression as her disapproving parents shower love and praise on her little brother while judging her every decision. There is a little pig-boy named Zachariah who looks after his disabled mother, who is addicted to drugs. Her addiction manifests in the form of a spider who (disgustingly) climbs out of the mothers nostrils to berate her son for not giving her the "medicine". Birdboy, meanwhile, tends to a secret grotto where he cares for a large tree that houses birds and produces mysterious glowing golden acorns.

In the last act, the three little ones decide to make good on their plan to escape the island. Their attempt is filled with tragedy. Heck, even the PVC duck flotation ring they plan to use has his own horrifying backstory. Along the way they come across a ruthless band of creatures knows as the Forgotten Children living in a landfill and viciously guarding their resources.

At times, the pessimism of the film is almost a little too much. That said, there are glimmers of hope and kindness among the emotional devastation, such as when Zachariah decides to finally fight back against his mother's demon, or when Dinky brings Birdboy medication to control his inner monster.

This is not an easy watch, and its themes are very heavy, but it is well-made and powerful.

After Yang -

One of the coolest opening credit sequences I've seen in a long time, which features a synchronized dance contest, kicks off this otherwise subdued and introspective but no less involving sci-fi tale. Yang is an android that parents Jake and Kyra bought to look after their adopted daughter, Mika. As a "culutural model," Yang also helps Mika embrace her Chinese heritage. After something unexpected occurs, the movie changes from a futuristic family comedy into a thoughtful meditation on memory, human connection and our transitory existences.

I enjoy sci-fi movies with lasers and killer robots as much as the next guy, but it's nice to see one that's just as compelling without such tropes and that studies technology that has no apocalyptic ramifications. Instead, the focus is on Yang's memory bank, which the parents explore to perceive his and their family's stories. Jake, played by Colin Farrell in one of his best performances, is a tea salesman, and his conversation with Yang in which he believes tea contains the experiences of the person who made it is one of the movie's most thought-provoking moments. The memory playback scenes sometimes rewind for a few seconds to replay moments important to Jake or Kyra, which is an effect I haven't seen anything like before. There's also the 3D "memory map," which recalls the space map in video game No Man's Sky and ends up being a fascinating means of depicting the mind. Other visual touches like the movie not making it clear how far ahead in the future it takes place or where it was filmed are other nice touches. After all, our fascinations with the past, our mortality and our connections with others both missed and everlasting will likely never go out of style, and it's doubtful that technology will neither provide satisying answers to such questions nor provide worthy substitutes. In short, I'd describe the movie as a more than worthy attempt to turn the Talking Heads song "Once in a Lifetime" into a feature-length movie. Oh, and again, it's a nice change of pace to see one in this genre in which the fate of world is not at stake.

Final Destination, 2000

High schooler Alex (Devon Sawa) is supposed to go on a school trip to Paris, but a vivid nightmare about the plane crashing leads him to freak out and get kicked off of the plane along with several other students and a teacher. When the plane does actually crash, Alex comes under some scrutiny for having predicted the tragedy. But things get even weirder when the survivors begin to suffer unlikely accidents, and Alex starts to suspect that death is claiming those who escaped their fate on the flight.

There was more to this film than I'd expected there to be. I remember one slightly unfavorable review referring to it as mainly existing to showcase a series of Rube-Goldberg deaths. While this is, well, sort of true, there is enjoyment enough to make it a pleasant watch.

Sawa is an engaging enough lead, and I thought that he especially sold Alex's panic in the initial sequence on the airplane. As Alex notices more and more strange omens (like scorch marks on the plane's wing, or strange stippling around its door), his discomfort grows. As someone who (1) doesn't like flying and (2) unconsciously looks for "signs" when I'm stressed, the mounting tension of this sequence really resonated with me.

The supporting cast is fine. Seann William Scott is on board as the surprisingly easy-going Billy. Ali Larter is the love interest as Clear (did anyone else spend most of the movie thinking everyone was pronouncing "Claire" in a weird way? Just me?), a young woman who gets off of the plane because she believes Alex when he warns the passengers about his vision. Tony Todd swings through in a fun, 2-minute cameo as a mortician who enlightens Alex about the dangers of messing with Death's plans.

Unfortunately, the movie never really got me to a place where I was very engaged. All of the survivors are destined to die. And . . . .? There is some talk of continuing to cheat the "design", but how? It all stays kind of vague. There is literally one short sequence of Alex "death-proofing" a cabin (though he still has a kerosene lantern right next to his face?!), but that's about it. I know that the idea of unavoidable destiny is really scary, but it doesn't necessarily make for compelling viewing. Aside from Clear, the rest of the survivors are clearly canon fodder, and that makes it hard to stay invested in them aside from appreciating the intricacy of their deaths.

A decent teen horror flick.

Being as slow as I am, I never even thought of that - but it makes sense, yeah.

By The poster art can or could be obtained from Alliance FilmsMagnet Releasing., Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=30660033

Hobo With a Shotgun - (2011)

When it comes to exploitation films that reference or pay homage to the most crazy and graphic of the 80s offerings, Hobo With a Shotgun is probably the best of all of them - or if not pretty close. It's as bizarre as it is graphic, and absolutely nothing is off limits. Be prepared for buckets of blood and every human organ - not to mention bones and flesh - as larger than life cartoonish characters with exaggerated traits explode onto the screen. Underneath the jacked up madness is a film that seems to understand what exploitation is (and was in the 1980s) all about - a guiding hand with impeccable comedic timing and measured sense of what a film of this kind can say while pushing the boundaries of certain taboos. I don't think I can rate a film of this kind any higher than 7.5 - so I'm introducing a new rating system where exploitation films like this are rated out of 7.5 instead of 10, and Hobo With a Shotgun gets top marks from me.

7.5/7.5


By CineMaterial, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=25185787

High Society - (1956)

Out of all the old musicals I've been watching, High Society isn't bad. It's better than the likes of GiGi, and seeing Frank Sinatra in one of these felt like a breath of fresh air - almost like another generation livening things up, even though Grace Kelly was far younger than most of the actors appearing in this. It was really great to see Louis Armstrong perform - and we see far too little of him in this film - I'd have liked to have seen a lot more of him. Classics like "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire" and "Well, Did You Evah?" are heaps of fun. Always reminds me of Iggy Pop and Debbie Harry.

6/10