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DRIVE (and Ryan Gosling) Continues to Thrill and Seduce on 4K-UHD
Nicolas Winding Refn’s stylish slice of genre filmmaking dazzles on 4K-Steelbook
It’s been well over a decade since Drive hit out screens. A moody, pulsating film that didn’t just solidify the star credentials of Ryan Gosling, but the flair of it’s director Nicolas Winding Refn (The Neon Demon, Only God Forgives). The film, written by Hossein Amini and James Sallis, centers on the titular Driver (Gosling), a stunt man who lives a second life working as a getaway driver. A nightly flirtation with danger on the streets of LA contrasts with a quieter home life, one that is shaken up after he forms a bond with a woman named Irene (Carey Mulligan) and her son, who live in his apartment building. When her husband (Oscar Issac) is released from prison, he brings with him a whole heap of problems, notably a long-standing debt. Stepping in to assist in a robbery to pay this off, the Driver quickly finds that his care for Irene has plunged him into the double-dealing of the LA crime underworld, and rather than freeing them from danger, find themselves in deeper trouble.
Through the neo-soaked streets, back alleys, basements, and clubs of LA, Drive is a truly pulsating affair. Grit and texture fill every corner, a heist gone wrong plot that grips the attention, and in this brooding central character, an undeniable magnetic pull into this world. The plot is a captivating, neo-noir thriller, and while somewhat familiar, the execution, mood, and look of the film is anything but. Verdant in aesthetic, stylish to the point of being overly saturated, a hinted at by a vibrant splash of pink adorning the title credits IT’s not just the look, but the feel of the film. The editing, speed, camera angles, sound design and soundtrack (utterly stellar picks) all add to a dynamic, propulsive feel. The protagonist and those he encounters add to a chaotic air, notably when things go sour and the Driver has to improvise or react. From quickfire car getaways, down to the human interactions too. These creeping threats into his personal life bring out a primal response from this quietly spoken, methodical man. To protect and attack. These switches come effortlessly from Gosling, which only adds to their shock value, underscored by his persisting allure. It’s also a breakout performance for Carey Mulligan, with a character who in less deft hands could be all too helpless, here she conveys both the vulnerability and allure to understand the Driver’s investment. Adding to the mix are notable faces, such as Albert Brooks, Ron Pearlman, Bryan Cranston, Oscar Issacs, and Christina Hendricks, who all exude their own sense of charm, gravitas, and danger, and add welcome texture to these various corners and layers of this criminal world.
All together, the elements of the film disturbs and delights in equal measure. A seductive mix of style and brutality. What does standout as being an essential part of the films balance and success is it’s exploration of loneliness. It’s a tinge of sadness that adds a rather poetic quality to the whole film, elevates it, while meshing perfectly with its hyperstyilized look, and punched up levels of violence. Just an iconic piece of filmmaking.
The Package
The release stands out as it comes housed within the ever-popular steelbook format. In this case, a tin adorned with new artwork by Matthew Brazier.
Inside are both 4K and Blu-ray copies of the movie. The 4K is the focus, showcasing the UHD version. Films from Nicolas Winding Refn are visually resplendent affairs and should be showcases for the 4K format. Thankfully, the image quality for Drive is pretty stunning. Even in the darkest sequences, the coloring, contrast, and level of detail impresses. Definition is sharp, and there are no signs of artifacts or crushing. Refn’s use of color and neon could tilt a film’s color balance off, but the transfer here handles it with aplomb. There are reports that the Second Sight release of Drive is even better, but to these eyes, Sony’s release is very nicely done. Across the discs are a host of legacy extra features, and an all new addition:
- NEW: Back in the Driver’s Seat: featuring interviews with Writer Hossein Amini, Editor Mat Newman, Composer Cliff Martinez, and Actors Christina Hendricks and Ron Perlman: A nice look back of the film with some notable names drawn on to offer a retrospective view on the making of the film and its legacy
- Theatrical Trailer
- Drive Without a Driver: A 25 minute overview on the film, hosted by Refn, that gets into much of his creative process, intent, and reflections on the feature
- I Drive: Just over 5 minutes, and a brief look at the story and central character, and the storytelling that stems from the script and direction
- Driver and Irene: A short dive into the quite love story that serves as the films core
- Under the Hood: ~12 minute featurette on the cast/characters
- Cut to the Chase: An all too short look at the stunt work in the film
The Bottom Line
Drive is muscular and moody filmmaking. An enthralling thriller married to an emotionally provocative composition. It solidified both the vison and talents of Refn, as well as the sheer charisma that Gosling brings to the big screen. This new 4K-steelbook release from Sony is a reminder that Drive remains as bold and dynamic as the day it was released.
Drive on 4K-UHD Steelbook is available via Sony Pictures Home Entertainment from August 27th
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Two Cents Heads into the Unknown with MEEK’S CUTOFF
In this week’s Two Cents, we close out our Women of the West series with Kelly Reichardt’s experimental endurance test that reframes the Western as a patriarchal power struggle
Two Cents is a Cinapse original column akin to a book club for films. The Cinapse team curates the series and contribute their “two cents” using a maximum of 200-400 words. Guest contributors and comments are encouraged, as are suggestions for future picks. Join us as we share our two cents on films we love, films we are curious about, and films we believe merit some discussion. Would you like to be a guest contributor or programmer for an upcoming Two Cents entry? Simply watch along with us and/or send your pitches or 200-400 word reviews to [email protected].
The Pick: Meek’s Cutoff (2010)
It feels oddly fitting that, for a series full of various fantastical visions of Women in the West, we close on a film that brings us crashing back to reality–a standout not just due to its meditative tone and exacting period authenticity, but the sole film in our series directed by a woman. Kelly Reichardt’s Meek’s Cutoff reframes the Western as a hell of an endurance test, transforming the trials of the Oregon Trail into a physical and psychological gauntlet ripped from Werner Herzog’s Aguirre: The Wrath of God. The iconic patriarchy-upending heroism of Jane Fonda, Sharon Stone, and Joan Crawford clash so deeply against the sparse, bitter words of Michelle Williams, Shirley Henderson, and Zoe Kazan, women trapped in the roles thrust upon them as caretakers of the trail as the men in their lives lead them hubristically into dangerous territory.
Yet, as the Oregon desert stretches on, we see how the resilience of these three women reflects how the tenacity of Pioneer women may have inspired the other heroines we’ve seen in this series. Intimate yet epic, Meek’s Cutoff is one of my favorite films about Women of the West–and I was excited to see what others on the Two Cents team thought about Kelly Reichardt’s bold take on Westerns.
Featured Guests
Meek’s Cutoff starts with slow steady drips of action filtered beautifully through Kelly Reichardt’s director’s eye. We open with a scene that wouldn’t be out of place in the early PC game Oregon Trail: a wagon train moving across an unnamed river in its slow trek towards whatever awaits the weary travelers, heading west no matter the cost.
Michelle Williams heads up the cast as Emily Tetherow. She is supported superbly by Zoe Kazan, Paul Dano, Shirley Henderson, Will Patton, Rod Rondeau, Neal Huff, and Bruce Greenwood, who is nearly unrecognizable under a long mane of hair and a thick scraggly beard.
Reichardt’s story isn’t covered with the usual overly macho trappings of the spaghetti westerns that litter this cinematic landscape, which are more concerned with reinforcing outdated ways of thinking via the visceral thrill of a climactic action-filled massacre. She is much more interested in the West as it really was, dispelling the old West’s myths and deconstructing the white hat archetype, here more adept at telling tall tales than they are actually at accomplishing these epic tales of bravery and bloodshed.
The film lets everyone in the cast excel. Greenwood has a moment early on spinning a yarn about a bear encounter to the youngest member of the wagon train, played by Tommy Nelson. Patton is sturdy throughout, never letting his scenes get lost in bluster. Williams, the marquee topper, obviously plays her role with her usual restrained brilliance. Kazan and Dano work well off each other the shorthand from their real-life union giving a believability to their performances. Rod Rondeaux imbues his indigenous character with a stoic intensity, calling to mind Wes Studi, Graham Greene, and Zahn McClarnon. Shirley Henderson is also solid as is Huff, who plays her husband.
Meek’s Cutoff is an excellent new school Western. It’s clear from the beginning Reichardt is more concerned with the seemingly mundane decisions of daily life in the old West than she is with the gunplay of your typical Western. She paints a beautiful portrait of the fragility of human existence against the inhospitable backdrop of the American West, and those facing that harsh landscape.
(@BradMilne79 on X)The Team
So many aspects of Meek’s Cutoff struck so deeply this go around, namely how the idealism we associate with the West–the promise of riches, freedom, a new life–can quickly turn into a sunk-cost exercise in faith when faced with the crushing blows of life in the wild. Reichardt begins with the normal doldrums of Oregon Trail life–fording oxen, gathering water, trudging the trail. She also begins with a harsh, unsparing glimpse of social hierarchy: while these three families all face the grueling quest on an even keel, it’s clear that the women’s suspicions they should turn back and join a more established trail will come secondary to their spouses’ egotistic drive to push forward. Bruce Greenwood, unrecognizable under cascades of bushy grey beard, draws an unintentional parallel to current political leaders as he boasts of past exploits, is pointlessly confident in his belief that they’re not lost, and when situations get dire, finds ways to corral his group through racial-driven hate and otherization.
All this machismo, though, quickly evaporates much like their dwindling water supply–as it becomes painfully clear that these men’s confidence is all they have left to keep them from the brink. It’s a grueling experience, though, that allows the film’s heroines to grow, seizing their agency where they can. Williams, Henderson, and Kazan may not rob banks or engage in quick-draw shootouts, but their quiet acts of defiance raise just as much comparative hell in the desolate expanse of the desert. They voice their doubts in Meek’s leadership, then in their spouses as they call out their husbands’ endlessly shifting goalposts that form the basis of their decisions to move forward rather than admit defeat and danger. The transformation of Williams’ Emily, though, is the film’s most radical–as her racial prejudice and fear of Rod Rondeaux’s Cayuse man, stoked by Meek’s vulgar threats, gives way to a transactional mutual support and eventually to a united empathy through their shared pointless trek through the wilderness.
At some point, something’s got to give–hope and hate can only fuel people for so long. And it’s so fascinating to see how Reichardt applies her signature muted yet psychologically dense filmmaking style to a story that other filmmakers would mine for other action-driven potential. It’s Sergio Leone by way of Werner Herzog–tense as hell and so damn bleak. Yet, against all odds, Reichardt’s heroines find an empathetic and courageous spark within themselves that overpowers the social and gender roles thrust upon them. Even with the film’s unsettling ambiguous ending, with no clear promises of what path to take–the fact that Emily and her fellow travelers have put an end to their misguided trailblazing is a momentous act of progress.
(@Gambit1138 on Xitter)Admittedly my favorite Reichardt historical western is her First Cow (2019). The silent wandering of Meek’s Cutoff is harder to stick out. But what’s more traditionally American than a bunch of white folks being led by a white man who has no clue what he’s doing? Michelle Williams heads up the cast, and in time, her character eventually finds her voice. However, most of the film, the exhausted wives are expected to be led by their husbands and support the terrible decision they made to break off from a larger group of settlers and follow bearded braggart Stephen Meek (Bruce Greenwood) through Oregon desert.
The landscape is deceptively beautiful, dry and dusty. It’s a fine purgatory for this small crew of settlers brainwashed by the era of Manifest Destiny. In this second viewing (my first was at AFS Cinema some years ago), the racist comments stood out in particular. From Meek’s blatant ravings about his supposed run-ins with assorted tribes to the more insidious every-day remarks of the settlers to one another (“that’s mighty white of you,” the women complaining about being treated like n-words, etc.), Jonathan Raymond’s screenplay leaves no doubt as to the white supremacist beliefs of these characters. And that’s before we get to their treatment of the Indigenous man (Rod Rondeaux) they meet in the desert and take hostage.
Anyone raised on the Oregon Trail video game might expect a decent amount of action, snakebite and/or dysentery in a film about the period. Reichardt’s picture tends more towards a cerebral journey; I’d forgotten just how slow it moves. Although loosely based on historical events, Meek’s Cutoff leaves things open-ended, letting the viewer make up their minds about how things might have turned out for the group. If one has the patience for it, the film is a harsh, non-sugarcoated depiction of a bit of American history.
(elizs on Bluesky)
CINAPSE REVISITS OUR BEST FORGOTTEN EPICS
In September, dive into epic films in their directors’ uncut, definitive forms. These bold visions by our favorite filmmakers use every minute of runtime to immerse us in vast worlds and compelling stories. Join us by contacting our team or emailing [email protected]!
September 2nd – Red Cliff: Parts 1 & 2 (4 hours, 47 minutes)
September 9th – Once Upon a Time in America: Extended Version (3 hours, 49 minutes)
September 16th – The Abyss: Special Edition (2 hours, 51 minutes)
September 30th – Kingdom of Heaven: Roadshow Director’s Cut (3 hours, 9 minutes) -
The Mexico Trilogy Explodes onto 4K UHD and Blu-ray
It’s hard to impart on someone who didn’t live through the 90s just how important Robert Rodriguez was, not just to the indie movement as a whole, but digital DIY cinema as well. Rodriguez started as a pioneer of the one man band film, and when George Lucas was developing digital filmmaking in the prequels, he immediately roped Rodriguez in and he quickly became one of the technology’s most prominent advocates utilizing this new tech for his films. This is something going into these discs will make some of the extras make more sense contextually, since he was one of the first filmmakers using this approach, that is now the norm.
That being the case, these films work as not only a great snapshot of the director’s career, but the evolution of his toolset and Hollywood as a whole. Rodriguez shot his first film in 16mm film in what was the indie norm, then making his next film in 35mm film for a studio, and then moving to completely digital for the third and final film of the series. This theme of technology is also an interesting thread in the first film in the trilogy El Mariachi, because when the Mariachi goes into a bar looking for work, he’s told why hire one mariachi on guitar when they can have a full band for the same price. On cue a man pulls out a giant digital keyboard (This is 1992) and, goes into a low-fi digital rendition of a mariachi ballad. Our protagonist then laments that because of this new technology, people don’t see the value in his craft as a mariachi like they once used to.
screenshots taken from Blu-ray But getting to the film itself El Mariachi, the film premiered at TIFF in 1992 and later Sundance in 1993 and from there it fast tracked the career of Texas filmmaker Robert Rodriguez. The film’s production, which is a story unto itself and is well documented in the excellent tome Rebel Without a Crew: Or How a 23-Year-Old Filmmaker with $7,000 Became a Hollywood Player. El Mariachi is a low budget adrenaline soaked actioner that’s sheer audacity makes up for what the film lacks in budget. Keeping things simple there’s a gangster dressed in all black with a guitar case full of guns out for revenge against the local kingpin, and his killing spree just so happens to coincide with a mariachi coming to town looking for work. The film is a fun story of mistaken identity as the guitar slinger soon gets wrapped up in the drama when he falls for a beautiful bar owner, who just so happens to be the big boss’s kept woman.
screenshots taken from Blu-ray I haven’t seen El Mariachi, since it was released on a two pack with Desperado on DVD and while now it’s a little more apparent who Rodriguez is homaging, it’s hard to deny the sheer unrelenting spirit of the film. It’s very clear this was a handmade film, but the performances are locked in, the effects are solid and the action feels a bit too real, if you know what I am saying. What this coalesces into, is a film that still works and its energy is nothing short of infectious. There’s a love of action cinema you can just feel watching the film, that no doubt is the other piece of the equation. Not only do you have this low budget action flick, but it’s obviously got more heart than most films with triple its budget. Seeing this film again presented on a new scan on blu-ray was nothing short of a treat.
screenshots taken from Blu-ray Next up was Desperado, the most mid nineties action film I have ever seen, and I say that with the utmost respect and love. Not only do we get tons of two fisted gun battles inspired by the heroic bloodshed of John Woo’s The Killer, but we get the wordy dialog, and not only Steve Buscemi as Buscemi, but a Quentin Tarantino cameo as well. This film has a VERY young Antonio Banderas now playing the Mariachi from the first film, who is now out to avenge the death from the previous film. This time however he comes across Salma Hayek, fresh off of Mexican soaps in her first feature role. Given the chemistry on screen, it’s easy to see why the two would star opposite one another throughout their careers, even to this day. The film is kind of a reboot/sequel with a very telenovela twist. The action is larger than life and the film introduces the cast of characters who we would see over and over again in Rodriguez’s films.
screenshots taken from Blu-ray The final film, Once Upon a Time in Mexico (2003), whose title is an homage to Sergio Leone’s holy trilogy, has the director now shooting/editing with a completely digital workflow for his grand finale. Looking at the cast list now, makes this film even more impressive, starring opposite Antonio Banderas is early 2000’s Johnny Depp – who had just released Pirates of the Caribbean the month before along with Willem Dafoe, Mickey Rourke, Eva Mendes, Enrique Iglesias, Selma Hayek and Danny Trejo. While the cast is an embarrassment of riches, the film itself has the director tripping over a convoluted narrative that has CIA agent Sands (Depp) bringing the Mariachi out of retirement one last time, to stop a coup d’etat/assisnation attempt of the Mexican president by the military bankrolled by the leader of the cartel (Dafoe). But thankfully the action is still solid, the vibe is fun and the film delivers what fans of the series would expect plenty of gun battles and lots of explosions.
screenshots taken from Blu-ray I don’t think I’ve seen this film, since I picked up the DVD on its release with my 20% employee discount at Blockbuster Video. It’s definitely the most ambitious and weirdest of the three films, but to the trilogy’s detriment Depp really steals the film out from under Banderas here, making him feel at times like a supporting character. It’s sad because this might have been reactionary to Depp’s success as Jack Sparrow, but two decades later, revisiting the trilogy, this film should be simply about the redemption and canonization of the Mariachi as a legend of not just the underworld, but Mexico by saving the president AND getting revenge one final time. But thanks to Depp who is in peak weirdo mode here, Antonio the strong silent gun fighter is continually outshined by Depp who’s got not only a knack for snappy dialogue, but hilariously on the nose t-shirts and a Thanos-like love for Cochinita pibil. He’s just too good here and along with the plot, that’s the film’s two biggest problems.
Digging into the special features on Arrow’s The Mexico Trilogy boxset unlocked a nostalgia I didn’t even know that I had. Before YouTube, before TikTok, it wasn’t common for directors to really document their process with short form videos and with each DVD release Rodriguez would do a 10 minute film school and sometimes a cooking school as well highlighting a dish from the film. This worked to not only showcase his DIY technique, but show how his workflow has changed with the advent of Digital. Here we get a look at not only Troublemaker studios, but in the director’s home as he shows us the infancy of the movement that would eventually go from taking an entire room to the palm of your hand. It is kind of surreal watching some of these now, to be honest. But Arrow carried over all the original interviews and featurettes and even gives us a few new interviews along with an intro by Rodriguez on every disc.
See the full extras below:LIMITED EDITION CONTENTS
- High Definition (1080p) Blu-ray presentations of all three films
- 4K (2160p) Ultra HD Blu-ray presentation in Dolby Vision (HDR10 compatible) of Desperado
- Illustrated collector’s booklet featuring new writing by Carlos Aguilar and Nicholas Clement
- Reversible sleeves featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Paul Shipper
- Double sided posters featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Paul Shipper
- Collectable poster featuring Robert Rodriguez’s original poster concept for El Mariachi
DISC 1 – EL MARIACHI (BLU-RAY)
- Original uncompressed Latin-American Spanish stereo audio, plus an English dub in lossless stereo
- Optional English subtitles, plus English subtitles for the deaf and hard-of-hearing
- Commentary by writer-director Robert Rodriguez
- Big Vision Low Budget, a newly filmed interview with Rodriguez
- The Original Mariachi, a newly filmed interview with producer/star Carlos Gallardo
- The Music of ‘El Mariachi’, a newly produced featurette on the music in the film, featuring interviews with composers Eric Guthrie, Chris Knudson, Alvaro Rodriguez and Marc Trujillo
- Ten Minute Film School, an archive featurette produced and narrated by Rodriguez
- Bedhead, a 1991 short film by Rodriguez
- Theatrical trailer and TV spot
DISCS 2 & 3 – DESPERADO (BLU-RAY / 4K ULTRA HD BLU-RAY)
- New 4K restoration from the original camera negative by Sony Pictures
- Original uncompressed stereo audio and DTS-HD MA 5.1 surround audio
- Optional English subtitles for the deaf and hard-of-hearing
- Audio commentary by writer-director Robert Rodriguez
- Lean and Mean, a newly filmed interview with Rodriguez
- Shoot Like Crazy, a newly filmed interview with producer Bill Borden
- Kill Count, a newly filmed interview with stunt coordinator Steve Davison
- Lock and Load, a newly filmed interview with special effects coordinator Bob Shelley
- Game Changer, a newly filmed appreciation by filmmaker Gareth Evans (The Raid: Redemption)
- Ten More Minutes: Anatomy of a Shootout, an archive featurette narrated by Rodriguez
- Textless opening (“Morena de mi Corazón”)
- Theatrical trailers
DISC 4 – ONCE UPON A TIME IN MEXICO (BLU-RAY)
- Original DTS-HD MA 5.1 surround and 2.0 stereo audio
- Optional English subtitles for the deaf and hard-of-hearing
- Commentary by writer-director Robert Rodriguez
- The Revolution Will Be Digitized, a newly filmed interview with Rodriguez
- Troublemaking, a newly filmed interview with visual effects editor Ethan Maniquis
- Eight deleted scenes, with optional commentary by Rodriguez
- Ten Minute Flick School, an archive featurette narrated by Rodriguez
- Inside Troublemaker Studios, an archive featurette on Rodriguez’s studio in Austin
- Ten Minute Cooking School, an archive featurette in which Rodriguez shows you how to cook Puerco Pibil
- Film is Dead: An Evening with Robert Rodriguez, a presentation by the director given in 2003
- The Anti-Hero’s Journey, an archive featurette on the arc of the Mariachi
- The Good, the Bad and the Bloody: Inside KNB FX, an archive featurette on the film’s special effects
- Theatrical trailers
screenshots taken from Blu-ray Now for the transfers, from that perspective Arrow has taken a very practical approach, El Mariachi was shot on 16mm, and this film is presented on Blu-ray on the set, which makes sense. Blu-ray is perfectly fine for 16mm and this transfer has a striking clarity and the grain you’d expect on a 4K. The film looks nothing short of stunning here compared to the SD presentation I recall from back in the day, however this does highlight the handmade quality of the film, because of how clear it is. That’s something noted by Rodriguez in the intros. The next film Desperado, was shot on 35mm and is presented on a 4K UHD with a new transfer from the original camera negative, which given the larger format makes complete sense. That transfer is super crisp, with a finer grain than the previous scan and the HDR really enhances the warmth of the piece highlighting the browns, oranges and tans.
screenshots taken from Blu-ray Finally, Once Upon a time is presented on Blu-ray, and this tracks, because it was shot in HD as we can see in the bonus features and transferred to 35mm for distribution. Once again, another practical decision, that given the plethora of digital effects, definitely works to keep the digital seems hidden. That’s the real tightrope with these transfers of these older films, what most folks fail to understand sometimes is that lack of definition and a darkened theater were part of the equation to hide the budget restrictions. Mexico was shot with the same camera as Episode III and the effects here are definitely not on that level. So I totally understand the move here to not upscale or rescan for information that is simply not there. With that said, all the films do come with very aggressive sound scapes with lots of lows for those bullet hits and their plethora of explosions.
screenshots taken from Blu-ray This set was a pure nostalgia shot in the arm for me. The Late 90s is one of my favorite flavors of Indie cinema and it easy to see here why Rodriguez is one of the reasons. So getting to experience these films all over again in these new editions was a real treat to be honest. That coupled with the old extras and the new ones that offer up a fresh perspective looking back, really help to paint a more complete picture of the trilogy and the impact these films have had since. While some will no doubt complain that not all the films are presented in 4K UHD, the choices here completely made sense to me considering Rodriguez himself pops up every disc to warn you about the limitations of the films. But is this a definitive set? I think so, I personally don’t think not every film needs to be toyed and thrown through filters and regraded if the director doesn’t want to.
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LONGLEGS Short on Scares, Long on Nic Cage-Inspired Freakiness
Don’t call it a comeback. Satan has been here for years, though truth be told, he’s been slacking of late, preferring to chill in the background rather than do the work necessary to bring evil — or its reasonable equivalent — into the world. Most likely, though, that’s because Satan realizes that he doesn’t have to do much, if anything, at all, to get what he wants. He can just let humankind do what they (we) do, sit back on his favorite faux-leather recliner, and just wait for the results (i.e., the damned souls of the recently departed) to pour and/or roll in.
Satan doesn’t exist in the real world except as a mythological-religious construct, but at least in fiction and on film, he’s rarely offscreen or off-page for too long. Just this year, he’s made a strong comeback, playing a key, high-profile role in Late Night with the Devil, The First Omen, and Immaculate (among others, certainly). And before anyone could say, “I miss Satan,” he returned, albeit in non-corporeal, malevolent form (his favorite form, apparently) in Osgood “Oz” Perkins’ (Gretel & Hansel, I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House, The Blackcoat’s Daughter) latest contribution to the horror genre, Longlegs, a supremely bleak, borderline nihilistic, supernatural thriller.
While Satan prefers to hang back in the shadows literally and figuratively, letting his earthly representative, Nicolas Cage’s scraggly, denim-wearing, plastic surgery-obsessed character, Dale Kobble (aka, Longlegs), do his blood-stained bidding, he remains an evil, malevolent presence, everywhere and nowhere at once. With his freakish appearance, high-pitched voice, and bizarre mannerisms, he’s the opposite of what passes as normal – or more accurately, “normal-presenting” – serial killer (i.e., the kind that anonymously blends into the general population).
Cage’s performance as Longlegs represents a significant risk for Cage and, by extension, Perkins: He’s either immediately perceived as a wildly comical figure, a figure for ridicule or even fun, or a deeply disturbing, terrifying one. To borrow a phrase more than applicable here: Your mileage may vary, but it’s a make-it-or-break-it moment when Cage’s unhinged, Tiny Tim-inspired serial killer makes his first appearance in Longlegs, a charmless, intrusive intruder at an isolated, wintry family farm, his pale, make-up-covered face half-obscured by Perkins’s child-centered camera.
Shot like an unmotivated home movie beamed directly from a demonic dimension to the audience’s occipital lobes, the opening scene reveals a tenuous connection between Longlegs, a serial killer operating unencumbered for two decades in the Pacific Northwest, and Lee Harker (Maika Monroe, Watcher, It Follows, The Guest), a newly minted FBI agent whose lone encounter with Longlegs as a young girl left her traumatized with a capital “T” (a given in modern horror). The experience also left Lee with a seemingly undiagnosed case of PTSD and a minor touch of extrasensory perception (i.e., clairvoyance). She can’t see into the future, at least not with any clarity, but her powers of intuition, specifically her ability to solve seemingly unsolvable puzzles, make her unique among her fellow FBI agents.
At least that’s what we’re expected to believe about Lee and the FBI’s decades-long inability to find Longlegs or stop his slow-motion rampage, presumably because he doesn’t kill his victims outright or leave any clues about his identity behind, but instead somehow convinces seemingly stable, suburban families to commit murder-suicide, a pattern that typically involves a married couple, their tween daughter, and a mid-month birthday. After he’s finished with the family, he leaves a different card tucked inside an envelope each time. The card contains a cryptic, Zodiac-style message, one for each murder-suicide. Despite their best efforts, the FBI remains at a standstill, incapable of decoding Longlegs’ messages. Until Lee, fresh from FBI school and her first assignment in the field, enters the picture, of course.
Longlegs draws inspiration from Manhunter, Silence of the Lambs, Se7en, and every derivative serial-killer thriller since, not to mention creepy doll-themed flicks released over the last half-century (far too numerous to list here). Perkins not-so-gently tweaks familiar genre tropes, adding a thick, suffocating, miasmic layer of the supernatural (specifically Satanism and the panic thereof that proliferated between the 1970s and the 1990s), and drops a dedicated, if emotionally unprepared, FBI newbie (Lee) into the mix. That Longlegs mostly works in delivering its share of sustained, low-intensity dread owes more to Perkins’s practiced ability to create and maintain a grim, despondent mood from the first, murky scene of Lee’s discomfiting encounter with Longlegs as a preteen to its last, deliberately enigmatic shot.
That it sometimes fails to work owes a great deal to Cage’s divisive central performance (the less we see of Longlegs as a character, the better the lingering, disquieting effect), illogical story turns explained by vague references to magic or the supernatural, and a surface-deep, Satanic-oriented mystery that repeatedly relies on supposedly smart, self-aware characters inorganically shedding their respective IQs to meet the demands of Longlegs’ increasingly convoluted plot.
Longlegs is now available to rent or buy via VOD.
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GREEN BORDER Is Unforgettable [Blu-Ray Review]
Agnieszka Holland’s latest, out now from Kino Lorber, is an indictment of institutionalized violence against immigrants
Director Agnieszka Holland (Europa, Europa, The Secret Garden) confronts the ever-present issue of immigration in her recent Green Border, a prizewinner from the 2023 Venice Film Festival now available on Blu-Ray. The screenplay – written by Holland along with Maciej Pisuk and Gabriela Lazarkiewicz-Siecko – portions the story into varied viewpoints: that of a Syrian family attempting to get to Sweden by way of Belarus and Poland, a member of Polish border patrol, activists who work on the border and face possible jail time for doing so, and a Polish therapist who feels called to help immigrants. Here the filmmaker isn’t looking for an individual scapegoat, but is instead calling the Polish government (and others) to task. Of course, it’s easy for an American audience to see similarities to our own government’s treatment of immigrants at the southern border.
It’s 2021 and refugee families and individuals travel through Belarus in hopes of being welcomed into the European Union on the other side of the border. Leila (Behi Djanati Atai) is a woman seeking asylum in Poland since her brother was a translator for Polish forces in Afghanistan. After meeting a Syrian family on the plane to Belarus, she becomes tied to their plight, getting stuck in a sort of terrifying limbo as Belarus forces push them into Poland and Polish forces push them back.
This first section of the film is the most emotionally and visually intense, as we’re shown the racism and overt cruelty faced by the immigrants. There’s an immediacy to the cinematography; DP Tomasz Naumiuk speaks in the Blu-Ray special features about a photojournalist with border experience serving as consultant on the film. His shooting the film in black and white (the only moments of color are at the open) gives Green Border a timeless quality.
The other three acts further illuminate the story. Guard Janek (Tomasz Włosok) hears a mandatory lecture full of propaganda, dehumanizing the people looking to come into Poland. His wife later repeats that propaganda at the grocery store. The ultrasound his wife receives in a medical office is a sharp contrast to a later ultrasound offered by the activists in the field to a young Somali woman (Joely Mbundu) immigrating with her partner. The activists are limited in the amount of help they can offer, but Julia (Maja Ostaszewska, Schindler’s List, The Haven) feels called to do more.
There’s no lack of talent among the ensemble cast in this drama (even the kids are great), but Ostaszewska and Atai are particular standouts. There’s a deep empathy informing their roles. Among the many themes explored in Green Border is that of the casual cruelty of strangers and the kindness of strangers. Matthew 25:35-40 came to mind as I viewed the activists caring for refugees’ frostbitten feet and feeding them warm soup. By offering the different viewpoints in the four parts of the film, the filmmakers refuse to treat anyone as “other.”
A biting epilogue, showing Poland’s response to Ukrainian refugees, only serves to make Green Border even more stunning and memorable. Holland’s work is chilling and disturbing, yet somehow hopeful. It’s an astonishing film that will remain with me for a long time.
The special features on the Kino Lorber Blu-ray are:
- a Q&A from NYFF with director Holland, DP Naumiuk, and performers Atai and Mbundu. The director speaks of finding inspiration in the real-life horror of the border between Poland and Belarus, writing a script in two months, and filming near Warsaw. She praises the “bright and generous actors.”
- the theatrical trailer
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BLINK TWICE: A Faulty Third Act Undermines Zoe Kravitz’s Promising Filmmaking Debut
In Zoe Kravitz’s feature-length debut as a filmmaker, Blink Twice (formerly “Pussy Island”), a familiarly simple line, “Are you having a good time?”, gains increasingly oppressive weight with each utterance by tech-bro billionaire Slater King (Channing Tatum) or any one of his dude-bro cronies. The expected answer, “Yes, I am,” doesn’t necessarily reflect any kind of personal or objective truth in the moment, but continued acquiescence, willingly or not, in the free-floating, billionaire-funded hedonism led by the appropriately named King. It’s all in the name of “fun,” albeit fun defined and dictated by King: An open-ended, all-expenses paid trip to King’s private. Epstein-inspired island – where, of course, only King’s private rules apply – filled with epicurean delights drawn from the island’s bountiful excesses, the highest quality weed available, and mind-expanding designer drugs.
For Frida (Naomi Ackie), a directionless twenty-something with limited financial resources, King represents the wealth, privilege, and power otherwise unavailable to struggling, working-class, woman of color. She seems to have a passion for nail design but seems to spend most of what passes as free time endlessly scrolling through her social media account. She might have a vaguely defined dream of some kind, but without the means, inclination, or direction, it’s effectively meaningless. Just paying the rent takes all or most of Friday’s energy, a reflection of the real world just outside the digital screen where the audience watching Blink Twice presumably resides.
Her dream-fantasy of a better, more comfortable life becomes a reality, however, when a night of catering at a swank, philanthropic event hosted by King turns into an impromptu invite to the latter’s private island. While convincing her best friend and roommate, Jess (Alia Shawkat), to join her on her adventure among the ultra-wealthy takes little effort, it’s a decision that, at least initially, pays off handsomely: They’re treated like near-royalty, given spacious private rooms, multiple changes of clothes (all white), and plied by King and his cronies, Vic (Christian Slater), his CFO-turned-CEO (in name only), Cody (Simon Rex), a smug, high-end chef, Tom (Haley Joel Osment), the group’s nominal beta male, and Lucas (Levon Hawke), a twenty-something, easily manipulated hanger-on, with copious amounts of food, alcohol, and recreational drugs.
In the prologue, Kravitz leans in the general direction of the #MeToo movement, ascribing unspecified transgressions to King involving multiple abuses of power. Playing the PR campaign perfectly, King’s apology tour includes generalized admissions of guilt, promises to do better after months of therapy, and contributing a large percentage of his wealth to philanthropic causes. It’s almost enough to convince anyone, including someone already predisposed to believe in personal change and redemption (if mostly for selfish reasons) like Frida. It takes two to gaslight, the person doing the gaslighting and the target of said gaslight, the latter willingly on some level, conscious or not.
Frida’s willingness to look past the mounting red flags, from the carefully laid-out, white clothes for all the female guests, the constant flow of drugs and alcohol (to say no would be to reject King’s relentlessly hedonistic sense of “fun”), and later, memory lapses that make it difficult, if not impossible, to determine how much actual time has passed on King’s island. When Jess disappears after one all-night session of debauchery, Frida can barely remember she was there all along. The other female guests, Sarah (Adria Arjona), a longtime star of a “Survivor”-type reality-TV series, Camilla (Liz Caribel), and Heather (Trew Mullen) don’t remember Jess at all.
Amply foreshadowed by Kravitz and her co-writer, E.T. Feigenbaum, in the early going, the shifting stakes change Blink Twice from a welcome, if somewhat familiar, satire of the wealthy and privileged among us (i.e., #EatTheRich) to an out-and-out horror film. The earlier line about having a “good time” becomes increasingly ominous and oppressive. Additional dialogue about forgiveness and especially forgetting (King argues the former isn’t possible, making the latter essential) becomes laced with existential meaning and later still, threat, setting up an action-oriented third act filled with different forms of violence, physical, mental, and emotional.
While the third act undeniably delivers on its promise of cathartic payback (all of it, it should be added, well-deserved), it also means Blink Twice trades off exploring its themes in any meaningful way for blood-soaked spectacle. That might be emotionally satisfying as it unfolds, but it feels too easy, too willing to give into audience expectations rather than subvert or challenge them, thus undermining an otherwise promising debut for Kravitz as a writer-director. In the end, Blink Twice qualifies as a missed opportunity.
Blink Twice opens theatrically on Friday, August 23rd, via Amazon MGM Studios.
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The Stunning STRANGE DARLING Packs Twists on Twists for a Swagger-Laden Thrill Ride
We talk about subverting expectations a lot in the realm of genre cinema, particularly where horror films and crime thrillers are concerned. We talk about these things because there are rules to these genres, certain skeletal essentials that we’ve come to expect, and when you subvert those things, you’re theoretically throwing the viewer for a well-earned loop. We like to know the rules because we like the thrill of breaking them.
But subverting expectations can only take you so far. Eventually, we all know the rules so well that we can see the breaks coming, no matter how carefully a film tries to hide them. We’re trained to look not just for genre conventions, but for deviations from that convention, and a culture devoted to spoilers and fan theories and “solving” movies by guessing twists certainly doesn’t help with that.
On the surface, JT Mollner’s Strange Darling may appear to be a film that’s built entirely around subverting expectations. Its nonlinear storytelling style and tightly focused premise suggest a film that’s supposed to keep us guessing, to generate hypotheses with each new frame, then swerve on the viewer at the last possible moment. But to focus entirely on its twisty nature is to miss the point of Mollner’s vivid, hypnotic, darkly funny thrill ride. This is not a movie about your expectations. This is a movie about a vision, executed with earnestness and force by a great creative team, and the results speak for themselves.
The film follows a woman known only as The Lady (Willa Fitzgerald) and a man known only as The Demon (Kyle Gallner) as they encounter each other for what seems like a one-night stand. But as their enigmatic names suggest, something else is going on between these two people, whose backgrounds and motivations we don’t know. Throw in a Texas Chain Saw Massacre-inspired opening narration about a notorious serial killer who remains nameless, and we’re thrust into a world where violence is perpetually lurking at the edge of the frame, until it spills over and consumes the narrative.
I’m being as vague as I can here because Strange Darling is the kind of movie best experienced when you don’t know a lot about it. I personally knew virtually nothing about the film other than the recommendations of friends who caught it at Fantastic Fest last year, and the promising nature of the cast, so I’m trying to preserve that as much as I can while also talking about the film’s virtues. There are secrets, yes, and big plot developments that you won’t want spoiled going in, so you should definitely avoid learning too much about the movie before you see it, but I don’t offer that warning just because of some vague notion of preserving spoilers for an audience. You see, Strange Darling isn’t so much about what twists it has in store as it is about how those twists come through.
Told through six nonlinear chapters which gleefully dance across the movie’s timeline, Strange Darling is a film that wants to surprise and shock you, but not necessarily in the way you think. Mollner’s plotting is smart, devilish, and tight, keeping the film at a lean 90 minutes, but his thematic explorations within that plotting are the bigger story here. The narrative unfolds like a poisonous tropical flower, never revealing which new petal is going to open until it starts moving, and by the end you’re left with a beautiful, deadly whole while also having had the satisfaction of watching each little piece shift into place. Those pieces, dripping with syrupy tension, are often not about guessing what’s next, but about exploring our human capacity for violence in the context of two humans who might be on opposite sides of a binary, or might be cut from the same blood-red cloth.
The very conceit of the film places Fitzgerald and Gallner firmly in the center of the entire narrative, and Mollner’s deliberately shadowy scripting leaves them to fill in the details of their characters behind the eyes as the film slowly reveals who they are. These characters have to breathe life into the dark corners of every scene in this film, and the actors have to make them compelling enough that we’ll want to stick around and learn the truth of what’s happening. Fitzgerald, who you might best know from her streaming work on shows like Reacher and The Fall of the House of Usher, is absolutely, devastatingly gripping as The Lady, turning in one of the best performances of the year in any genre, full-stop. Gallner, long a staple of the horror circuit, reminds us all why he’s one of the most dependable thriller actors we’ve got, while stretching his own capabilities to give us a chameleonic, masterful performance. They’re both titanic presences in this film, a fact underscored by the scenes they share with the likes of Ed Begley Jr. and Barbara Hershey, who both add quirky depth all their own.
The other major character in Mollner’s film, just as vivid and vital as the humans, is the camera, under the command of cinematographer Giovanni Ribisi (yes, that Giovanni Ribisi). Strange Darling was shot entirely on 35mm film, and you know from the very first scene that it’s more than just a throwback for the sake of making cinephiles salivate. Mollner and Ribisi’s use of color, of perspective, of the simple way that light behaves when it’s captured on good old-fashioned celluloid, is astonishing, and a reminder that there’s a certain life to film that digital can rarely recapture no matter how great it looks. It’s a strong contender for the year’s most beautiful genre movie, and that’s just one of many reasons to check it out.
Strange Darling is a snarling beast of a movie, a film that prowls around your psyche until it’s ready to pounce, and by the time it leaps at you you’re so transfixed by its beauty that you don’t really mind. It’s a smart, seductive, first-rate thriller, and demands to be seen by genre fans everywhere.
Strange Darling is in theaters August 23rd.
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Having a Gas with the Writer, Editor, Star and Director of THE PEOPLE’S JOKER Vera Drew
Vera Drew as Joker the Harlequin in The People’s Joker. Courtesy of Altered Innocence. I loved The People’s Joker, and with the film finally released on VOD I got a chance to dig into the film with its writer, director, editor, star, and dare say future auteur Vera Drew. The Emmy nominated director studied improv comedy through a Second City youth pilot program, and later worked in entertainment television as an editor, director and writer. She eventually crowdfunded her first feature length debut, that used the iconic character to tell an autobiographical Trans coming of age story that takes place in a surreal DC comics universe.
The People’s Joker is what I believe comic book films will be like in a few years in that Vera uses the language of superheroes, multiverses and pop-culture as a baseline and shorthand, to tell this deeply personal story that alone is compelling in and within itself. Sure, if you stripped away all the bright colors and superheroes you’d have a compelling Trans coming of age story that might play at your local indie theater. But it’s through the language of comics that Vera accesses decades of character subtext, which is baked into anyone who’s seen a Batman or Marvel film to tell her story and make is as accessible as anything you’d see in a multiplex today.
As a comic fan, albeit a Cis White Male, the film deeply resonated with me and it was great to explore not only how that came to be, but how it’s affected Vera since she’s unleashed her uncompromising vision into the world.
So interviewing you sort of after the fact, with the film is widely available now with a bit of perspective. What was that experience like for you as a filmmaker, and is there anything you would change if you had to do it again?
Vera Drew: Well, I think as a filmmaker, there were definitely other points in this process where I wouldn’t have said this. But I’m grateful for the experience and how notorious the movie got at times, and once it was finally out there, how film has been pretty widely well received.
That’s just like the dream as a filmmaker, especially for your first film. So I don’t even really know that I would change anything. I definitely have some regrets along the way. I sometimes regret pulling the film from festivals after TIFF, but that was kind of an uncomfortable, yet necessary thing I had to do just cause the movie wasn’t done and there were a lot more precautions that I had needed to take.
I had taken a lot of legal precautions and gotten a lot of guidance before then, but after the TIFF debacle, I needed to get a litigator and I also just needed to find a pathway to distribution that was a little bit more unique than I think we had originally set out. So, I don’t really know that I’d change anything because I think the reason it went the way it went, is why I get to have so many conversations like this.
Yeah, I was at a couple of those festivals where you would hear about it and it would be programmed and then it wouldn’t show. But I’ll be the first one to say when you started doing the secret screenings, that’s what got me front and center, the fact that I had missed it at previous fests and was able to see it after the fact. So you know, to your credit it kind of worked its own magic.
Vera Drew: I mean the movie, always was literally a magic ritual. I’m a very witchy person and it was a real process of letting go and letting the universe just kind of work its magic around me.
I had a lot of people in my circle, like whether they were my friends or people in the industry telling me like you’re not going to be able to maintain this interest after TIFF. I had people saying that and it was really scary. I just had to kind of believe the entire time that, like, the quality of the movie could kind of stand on its own, and I think that helped a lot.
I feel like the only way we’re going to be able to keep superhero stories fresh and relevant is imbibing them with different perspectives. How did the concept for your take on the character in this way even cross your mind and utilize the character’s journey as shorthand for your own, which was genius by the way?
Vera Drew: Thank you.
I love comic books and I think there’s so many stories that just haven’t been told, using these characters and I was kind of reaching this point of frustration with that. I think that was one of the real motivating factors.I really wanted to see an actual outsider voice, like Trans and Queer people. I’ve gotten some people, I think they’re just baiting me, but they have gotten on me about like, how could you make a Queer villain? Or like, you know, is there wrong about showing an abusive relationship between 2 Trans people, or like making the Joker a Trans woman.
To me it was always like, well, Queer people are villainized and this is like in the DC cannon specifically, like most of the villains are just people who are either mentally ill or like these social outcasts. So why don’t we tell a story that has some actual truths to those sorts of archetypes. It was really like this fertile ground for it and I think I’m probably done working in comic book movies, at least for now. But I hope I get to see more of that kind coming at it from like that sort of individual perspective.
Vera Drew as Joker the Harlequin in The People’s Joker. Courtesy of Altered Innocence. I hope this does inspire others. It definitely felt very intimate and personal. When I watched it, I felt like I was reading someone’s diary and it deeply affected me. I’m saying that as a white Cis male, like, I was on the verge of tears at the end and I don’t say that lightly. And I think because it’s so personal that it kind of crosses the barrier because of that and goes from the Trans experience, and speaks to the human experience.
Vera Drew: I think that was the thing. I think I was trying to prove it to myself because I just been getting so frustrated, pitching things and having people tell me that they were too Trans or whatever. Well, also like simultaneously getting put in writers rooms or put up for like diversity initiatives just because I was Trans. When you really imbue a film with your specific story, people are gonna relate to it. I don’t really know what the science is to it. But it really is something that I sort of figured out along the way.
The Trans experience itself is just literally a kind of a coming of age experience, it’s a becoming and an undoing and it’s not a straight line. Everybody comes of age. I just think the difference for Trans people is it happens on the outside and you know, we have to kind of catch everybody up to our pronouns and all that.
The film is so personal, were you ever worried about putting yourself that far out there like that?
Vera Drew: You know, I was so naive. I just hadn’t even really considered it. I really thought I was making something just for me and my friends, which is really silly to say now. You know, like having conversations like these or like the fact that Grant Morrison actually saw the movie, you know, like stuff like that. It’s like, it’s very weird. My brain can’t still hasn’t been able to quite figure out how to hold it.
It’s made me very vulnerable and it’s been a little intense at times. I think that was largely why, like last year was kind of simultaneously like the best year of my life, and like one of the worst because it was just this very chaotic roller coaster ride. I think when you make something this personal reality really gets confusing, especially like if you’re somebody like me who has, PTSD and mental illness.
There is an intensity that comes along with it, especially like this movie means a lot to a lot of Trans people. There’ve been a lot of people that have seen it and that was their motivating factor to start their transition. That was something that I never considered that would be a thing and having those conversations are very intense. But I like being able to have them. It’s something that I’m still kind of learning how to show up for and have boundaries around.
I never wanted to be a fucking role model, you know? But I’ve kind of made my bed and I’m gonna lie in it.
Yeah. I’ve seen you at a few festivals and you were always engaged with the folks around you and I would see you having these kinds of conversations. I didn’t want to interrupt, because it was such a beautiful thing to see that connection happening.
Vera Drew: In the beginning, I didn’t really know how to have those conversations. Like I’m a shit poster. I’m a deeply empathetic person, but I was just in therapy today being like, I need to learn how to cry again after processing my feelings through the Joker in this way. I’ve really re-irony poisoned myself, but those conversations bring me back to Earth in a way like they’re almost very grounding and I get to see these little beautiful reflections of my own life in other people.
I quickly realized, like there’s no way I could ever be cynical about this or let it get to my head or be impatient with people or or standoffish, because I didn’t have a filmmaker like me like when I was coming up. I came out so late in my life, I think largely because I really understood myself through movies and there weren’t really movies that told my story. I had to really kind of piece it all together with like all these like broken shards of myth, therapy and testing out every other identity under the Sun.
There’s a lot of other trans films that are out now, and I’ll hear the phrase like “the Trans Film movement” or whatever get kind of thrown around and at first it really bothered me because we’re all making very different art, like we’re not a part of a collective. This isn’t like Dogma 95 or something where we’re all like meeting with each other and deciding what our agenda is.
That’s right. Like everyone has to use the Academy aspect ratio and everything.
Vera Drew: Yeah, exactly. Maybe we should. (Laughs)
But there’s never a thing that that was happening. But if I just, take myself out of it and my fucking ego out of it for like a second. And I really put myself in the shoes of somebody, like a Trans person who lives in the Midwest right now who wants to make movies and has no idea how they’re going to break into the industry. They get to just see all these movies that are being made and they get to see somebody like me who just made a movie in her fucking bedroom. Like with these characters too. It’s really humbling and I just feel so grateful that I’m able to do that and be an example, just because there weren’t examples before.
Vera Drew as Joker the Harlequin in The People’s Joker. Courtesy of Altered Innocence. The film has a very distinct visual handmade sort of DIY style, how did you arrive at that and how much work went into sort of perfecting that digital collage aesthetic?
Vera Drew: It really was something I had to kind of figure out along the way. Like, I think I had enough pieces of art that I could sort of use like gospel to turn to, you know, like Natural Born Killers is always something that I bring up just because that’s a movie where there’s so many like tonal shifts and even just like aesthetically. Like it’ll cut between three different camera stocks in the span of five seconds, or like a anime sequence of a character like ripping somebody’s head off and stuff and you’re watching it and you’re able to take it in as a continuous story.
I think Pink Floyd’s The Wall, too, was like another one, just because that’s a very cerebral movie and it’s a very simple plot. It’s just somebody, having a nervous breakdown in a hotel room before getting on stage, which sounds like my experience at TIFF. But that movie has so much experimentation and different animation styles, so it’s kind of always turning to that too, as a point of reference.
One I’ve never really brought it up before, but I was really inspired by not even just for the People’s Joker, but David Lynch’s Twin Peaks The Return. It kind of just changed the way I thought about filmmaking and television and everything because that was a show you can really tell that David Lynch was spreading his budget very thin and I say that complementary. Like I think it still works and he leans into the limitations.
I think there was just this sort of precedent there that it’s like if you really don’t hide your limitations, if you really wear them on your sleeves and and turn it into a choice, it can work.
Well, to kind of sort of wrap it up and bring it back around what is next? How do you follow this up? You’ve said you’re not doing anything comic book related, which is kind of refreshing.
Vera Drew: Yeah, it’s funny because, you know, after I finished it one of the bubble bursts was sort of like “ohh, how come I’m not like getting offered any IPs”, I just fucking re-invented one here.
I actually talked about it with Nathan Faustyn, who plays the Penguin and he was like ‘you hate IP’s’. I love IP but like, I hate that idea of like, I love Star Wars, but you see what happens when a, quote UN quote, auteur gets brought into that kind of world?
So it was really important for me to like whatever I do next to be something that’s original and and I have a script that I’m working on right now called Dead Name, that’s like a cosmic horror movie and it’s very much about, I think the last like four years of my life. It’s like another coming of age story. I mean that’s in many ways it’s more personal than The People’s Joker and a little bit more ambitious in some ways. And I’ve also got a heist movie that I’m attached to. It’s like a horror heist movie. I can’t talk too much about it, but hopefully soon.
It’s honestly, one of the best scripts I’ve ever read. It was really like the first script that I’ve had written by somebody else that I was like, ‘oh I can really bring something to this, this is so close to being my voice’. And there’s things about just working with somebody else’s material will really make me a better artist.
Beyond that, we’ll see if any of those get going anytime soon. I really miss being behind the camera and acting too, but I don’t want to act in something again for a while.
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Two Cents: JOHNNY GUITAR Turns 70
Women in Westerns Month continues with this campy and subversive Joan Crawford masterpiece
Two Cents is a Cinapse original column akin to a book club for films. The Cinapse team curates the series and contribute their “two cents” using a maximum of 200-400 words. Guest contributors and comments are encouraged, as are suggestions for future picks. Join us as we share our two cents on films we love, films we are curious about, and films we believe merit some discussion. Would you like to be a guest contributor or programmer for an upcoming Two Cents entry? Simply watch along with us and/or send your pitches or 200-400 word reviews to [email protected].
The Pick: Johnny Guitar (1954)
During the last edition of Two Cents, I commented about how Sharon Stone stuck out like a sore thumb in The Quick and the Dead due to the modern edge she could not shake for a story set in the old West. I forgave her since, after all, as a producer on that movie, she was not only the one responsible for the film being greenlit but also for getting Sam Raimi on board and helping to make the movie one of the best to come out of the 90s Western resurgence.
Watching Johnny Guitar not long after the film celebrated its 70th anniversary, I cannot help but see Stone and this film’s star, Joan Crawford, as long-lost sisters of sorts. Like Stone, Crawford was responsible for the film getting made, having purchased the film rights to the novel some years back and for putting Nicholas Ray in the director’s chair after another project of theirs fell through. Crawford had less trouble shedding her contemporary persona than Stone did, which was fortunate as the production of Johnny Guitar had bigger problems to contend with in bringing to the screen this tale of a saloon owner named Vienna (Crawford) who finds herself in a bitter rivalry with local townswoman Emma (Mercedes McCambridge) at the same time that former love Johnny (Sterling Hayden) comes back into town.
Our Guests
Your enjoyment of Johnny Guitar is going to come down to one thing and that is how you feel about Joan Crawford. At its core, this is a Joan Crawford melodrama wearing a Western costume – Mildred Pierce wearing a holster, but that’s what makes the movie so fascinating. Though the title character is Johnny Guitar, it’s Crawford’s Vienna who is stepping into Gary Cooper’s boots and leading the story, with Sterling Hayden’s Johnny serving as the more lovesick half of the couple. In fact, the major concern for all the principal characters isn’t the new railroad coming through town or the stagecoach getting held up, it’s that they are all perpetually horny for Vienna.
The gender optics and underlying sexuality of the main characters is what flies in the face of more traditional Westerns. There’s plenty of homoeroticism to go around in certain films of the genre, but rarely have characters felt this blatantly queer coded, particularly when it comes to the film’s villainess, the obsessive Emma played by Mercedes McCambridge. Though the script alludes to her romantic feelings for The Dancing Kid (Scott Brady), who is himself in love with Vienna, Emma’s infatuation always seems to go back to Vienna. The demonic joy on her face as she burns Vienna’s saloon to the ground is terrifying.
Of the production aspects, the costumes are what stand out most. The men and Emma are always dressed in more neutral tones, browns and oranges, save for a green vest Emma wears in her first appearance; all color is saved for Vienna and it makes her pop like a firework with every outfit she wears. Even when her main costume is slightly darker, there’s always a bright neckerchief to make her stand out. The costuming of Vienna is also exceptionally smart: she’s introduced in a shirt and pants, easily inhabiting the traditional male role of saloon owner than she’s assumed. After she’s let Johnny back into her life, her outfits incorporate first a skirt and then a full dress, as if to show her slowly slipping back into a more feminine role. After she’s almost hanged, it’s right back to a shirt and pants and proving she doesn’t need a man to save her- and indeed she doesn’t.
Johnny Guitar is an excellent example not just of a female Western, but just a Western. It celebrates the traditional cliches, while also reckoning with them and turning them on their head in consistently entertaining ways. Plus, there’s a shot of Joan Crawford in a white dress playing the piano against a red rock background, and that shot alone is enough to make you say, “This is a damn good movie.”
Nathan Flynn
As a huge Western fan, Johnny Guitar had been a massive blind spot for me until this series. Watching it for the first time, I quickly understood why its persisted for decades and remains so popular. Joan Crawford’s performance is nothing short of mesmerizing; she commands the screen with an intensity that anchors the entire film. Despite what the title might suggest, this is no typical Western. It’s a genre-defying film where the women are the true driving force of the plot, overshadowing the men with their complexity, determination, and a fierce mix of passion and hatred for each other. The film’s exploration of loyalty, betrayal, and power is heightened by its striking visual style. The technicolor brilliance—akin to the lush palette of The Wizard of Oz —creates a vivid backdrop that enhances every emotion and twist in the plot.
What also struck me about Johnny Guitar is how it serves as a powerful allegory for the McCarthy-era witch hunts. The relentless pursuit of Vienna by her enemies mirrors the paranoia and persecution that defined that period in American history. This layer of social commentary adds a profound depth to the film, elevating it beyond the realm of a traditional Western. Johnny Guitar is more than just a great movie; it’s a masterpiece of the Western genre and a timeless piece of cinema that resonates on multiple levels. It’s easily one of the greatest Westerns ever made, and discovering it for the first time was nothing short of revelatory for my personal Western canon.
The Team
Before discussing the movie, we may as well get all the behind-the-scenes lore out of the way. It’s no secret to fans of this film, that Johnny Guitar was fraught with production issues. To put it plainly, this was not a happy set. There were Crawford’s famous demands, Ray’s uncertainty about his handling of the material, and the animosity among the three leads. The relationship between Vienna and Emma closely mirrored the real-life one of Crawford and McCambridge, who was struggling with alcoholism at the time. Things got so bad that Crawford went so far as to scatter all of the latter’s costumes along the Arizona highway. Meanwhile, it’s a testament to the talents of Crawford and Hayden that their romance plays out as credibly as it does since the pair’s relationship off-screen was somewhat frosty, partly due to the actor’s marital troubles at the time and a growing disdain towards film acting.
Yet none of this prevented Johnny Guitar from being the gorgeous technicolor adventure ride that everyone involved helped it to become. Perhaps it was because of his nervous energy, but Ray gives his film such vitality that nearly every scene, even non-action ones, jumps off the screen. The movie can be called campy, for sure. How could it not be? But there’s an undertone throughout it that reminds the audience: “This is for real.” It’s a hard realization to ignore, especially in the tense standoff scene which ends with Vienna and Emma promising that they’re going to kill each other. There’s so much amazement and delight in the way Johnny Guitar brazenly went against storytelling in 50s Hollywood and dared to change up the rules of a genre in such a shocking and compelling way.
Johnny Guitar is bold in its symbolism, subversive with its approach to genre tropes, striking in its visuals, and entertaining as can be. It’s everything you could want in a Western. The film is lucky to have someone like Vienna (a quintessential Crawford character) as its heroine, the complete antithesis of the kind of woman you’d find in a film of this genre. Vienna is someone who is both fearless tenacious, and romantic, proving more and more riveting with every line of dialogue she utters. “I searched for you in every man I met,” she tells Johnny at one point. Her cunning and resolve lead to many of the film’s iconic moments, chief among them the scene of Vienna at the piano where she’s officially turned the tables on Emma and her gang. By far the movie’s best scene.
A hit with audiences upon release, it would be decades before Johnny Guitar found the critical acclaim and esteem it always deserved. Critics Steven Schneider and Roger Ebert have cited it, director Martin Scorsese counts the film as one of his favorites, and in 2008, Johnny Guitar was entered into the National Film Registry. Despite also being the helmer of In a Lonely Place and Rebel Without a Cause, Johnny Guitar might be Ray’s true masterpiece. So rarely has a film showing a woman fighting for position, power, and for herself, played out in such a memorable and extraordinary way.
A solid classical studio Western with a twist, Johnny Guitar is enjoyable if maybe not an all-timer. The twist? Well, it’s the very premise of our programming this month: this is a “lady Western” starring not just Joan Crawford as the actual lead (despite the title), Vienna, but also a rage-filled Mercedes McCambridge as Emma. The script is quite effective in the first act as tension and conflict are apparent from the jump. As our characters verbally spar their way through the introduction we learn more and more about who our leads are as they argue bitterly, concealing exposition marvelously in crackling dialog.
Vienna is the hard as nails saloon owner who is determined to stake her claim and make her fortune when the railroad comes through their town and turns her saloon into highly valued land. But Mercedes McCambridge’s Emma is powerfully compelling as the hate-filled townswoman who is ready to lynch anyone who would threaten her own wealth or sense of ownership over the town. Emma seethes with hatred towards Vienna as an outsider, a competitor for male attention, and she whips up hatred among the townsfolk in order to see her vengeance realized. She’s a remarkably salient villain even watching the film today, recognizing some of the fear-mongering and scarcity mentality that infects so many Americans right now.
The titular Johnny Guitar is played by Sterling Hayden (who I immediately associate with his role in The Godfather) and ultimately plays second fiddle to Crawford, which is a nice touch. He’s a musician, a man of mystery, a gunfighter… you know, the exact kind of guy who is usually the lead character. Johnny Guitar does stand out from the pack in focusing on a rough and tumble independent, entrepreneurial woman, but Johnny’s pretty cool too. I think the film starts out a little stronger than it ends up and it didn’t entirely engage me throughout, but I would recommend it for fans of classic Westerns for a very special lead tough-gal performance from Crawford.
CINAPSE CELEBRATES THE WOMEN OF THE WEST
Every week in August, we’ll be looking Western films with a feminine edge. Women don’t get to take center stage in tons of Westerns, but they are at the front of some truly great films in the genre. Join us this month by contacting any of the team or emailing [email protected]!
August 26th – Meek’s Cutoff
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HUNDREDS OF BEAVERS Is A Movie To Restore Your Faith In Movies
It’s easy for a film lover to despair while looking at the current state of the cinematic landscape. Beyond the encroaching contentification (totally a word) of the artform driven by streaming and hastened by AI idiocy, there may never have been a more cowardly, mercenary, craven collective of studio executives as those currently in control of what gets made and how (or if) the finished work gets released.
One need only look at the slate of movies trumpeted at Disney’s recent D23 ‘fan event’ to wonder if what we’re hearing is instead the horns of Judgement Day announcing the end of the artform, fire and brimstone replaced with Uncanny Valley slop and pointless remakes and sequels and spinoffs. Human artistry and a century-old legacy replaced with soulless chum churned out as dictated by an algorithm.
But my nature bends towards optimism, and if you need a reminder of how vital and versatile and alive film and filmmaking can still be, you need only drop a couple bucks to rent Hundreds of Beavers.
Hundreds of Beavers defies easy description, but hey let’s give it a shot anyway.
In the style of silent film (black and white; no dialogue; scratchy, grain-heavy picture), Beavers details the epic contest of survival between hapless frontiersman Jean Kayak (Ryland Brickson Cole Tews, who also co-wrote and co-produced the film) and a hostile wintery wonderland. Even as he braves the terrors of the wilderness, Jean is especially put upon by a clan of aggressive beavers who have staked their own claim on the territory.
It should be noted at this juncture that the beavers, indeed almost all the animals in the film, are played by people in animal mascot costumers.
….
Yeah, I don’t know man, that’s what we’re dealing with here.
What follows is a slapstick ordeal for the ages, as Tews’s Kayak endures a Bruce Campbell-ian amount of punishment and humiliation as he grinds (and grind-quests) his way from zero to hero in the hopes of winning the hand of his lady love (Olivia Graves) and the approval of her domineering father (Doug Mancheski).
Laying out the basics of the plot doesn’t come close to capturing the infectious energy of the thing, the sheer glorious abandon with which Hundreds of Beavers merrily mashes together a vast array of mediums to arrive at something that feels almost unprecedented.
While the look of the film recalls silent cinema, the narrative structure and visual grammar are indebted to video games. And while the gag-a-second pacing puts you in mind of Airplane! and the work of Mel Brooks, the proudly DIY visual effects place Hundreds of Beavers firmly in a contemporary context alongside the zero-budget innovations found on YouTube and TikTok.
It belongs to the past, to the present, to no time besides whatever suits the specific vision of director/co-writer Mike Cheslik (in his feature debut). It contains a command of visual storytelling that is downright masterful and it gleefully indulges in the basest, most simplistic of comedy because holy crap it never does get old watching a full grown man careen head-first into another full grown man wearing a beaver suit.
Honestly, it’s difficult to name a proper precedent for what Cheslik, Tews, and all their collaborators have cooked up here. If Terry Gilliam’s animations ever sprang loose to attack the rest of Monty Python, you might be in the ballpark of the peculiar world being captured here. But how do you create a movie that sits at the exact intersection of Charlie Chaplin and Super Mario? A movie that is simultaneously a master class thesis on the evolving intricacies of the cinematic form AND a rowdy crowd-pleaser with Loony Tunes physics and a penchant for dousing the leading man in goose shit.
No one asked for this.
No could have known to ask for this, excepting of course one of those occasions when someone takes a little too much of something-something and glimpses the firmament of the cosmos and knows truths as yet unborn, but even that guy would probably sober up and go, “Guys in beaver suits? Nah.”
No one was asking these Cheslik and Tews to make this movie, but they decided they wanted it to exist and goddamnit they made it happen.
They scraped together a budget. They trekked out into the winter to shoot in the snow and the cold. They dedicated years to completing the thousands of effects shots in Adobe. Even after the movie was done, it took years to come out because the creative team decided to distribute it themselves rather than trust a buyer to give the film a micro-release before dumping it onto VOD.
After all of that, Hundreds of Beavers is many things.
It’s the funniest movie in years.
It’s a love letter to what movies have been before.
It’s an exhilarating promise of what movies will be.
And maybe most importantly, it’s a reminder that some Wall Street douchebag with a mega-yacht (or mega-yachts, as the case may be) who deletes creativity in exchange for a tax break? That asshole doesn’t get to determine the future of movies. Slick Silicon Valley fucks traipsing around in the Emperor’s latest fit, it’s not up to them either.
There will always be dedicated artists chasing mad visions and working to bring them to life. I hope for a better industry someday that will equip and foster such artists and visions, but maybe that is too much to hope for.
Even so, I trust in the knowledge, with certainty instead of hope, that however hostile the landscape, that’s not going to stop one unreasonable bastard after another from picking up a camera and making magic.