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TAFFIN: Pierce Brosnan IS an Intellectual & Righteous Debt Collecting Lone Hero
Kino Lorber releases a charming Blu-ray
Ahh yes, your classic principled, intellectual, friendly local… debt collector for hire?
At once highly improbable and almost inevitable, Taffin (1988) is like if you rolled the “airport paperback action novel” dice a few times and came up with the above sentence. There’s even a sort of 1980s adventure film subgenre based around “saving the community center” which Taffin conveniently falls into as well. It’s an entirely familiar kind of lone hero action movie that goes down easy, feels entirely satisfying, and revels in its few eccentricities.
Living in his small hometown village in Ireland, Taffin is at once revered and dismissed by the locals. When his “particular set of skills” are needed, folks will come calling, asking for his help to collect on debts with his unique blend of smarts and hard boiled toughness. He can get things done — his way. The script for Taffin (David Ambrose of The Final Countdown and D.A.R.Y.L. fame) ensures that most of the people hiring Taffin for collection gigs are righteous in their motivations, casting him as a hero. But when things are peaceful the town folk are loathe to associate with the man who is as much a weapon as he is a fellow citizen. And so the stage is set for a reluctant hero with a chip or two on his shoulder to square off against the wealthy elites who are conspiring behind ornamented manor gates to build a chemical plant right on top of the beloved athletic field in town. Taffin is the kind of movie where stuffy rich villains stand around a large scale model of a chemical plant and laugh villainously about how they’re going to profit off the local suckers.
As Taffin gets further caught up in the larger conspiracy unfurling in the town, he’s swept up in a pretty convincing love affair with The Last Crusade’s Alison Doody as Charlotte. I note how convincing this love affair is because part of the charm of Taffin is just how stunningly beautiful these two human beings are. As handsome as I’ve always believed Pierce Brosnan to be, he’s perhaps his most dashing here in glorious high definition. I mean… you can even see his freckles. And obviously he wears a leather jacket and rocks a pierced ear. Doody’s character, as was unfortunately prominent in 1980s storytelling, exists really only to further Taffin’s character development. But she’s suitably tough, independent, and drop dead gorgeous. Taffin isn’t a terribly deep film, so forgive me simply enjoying beautiful people looking beautiful.
The big character arc playing out amidst Taffin’s inevitable outsmarting of all the bad guys trying to build over the football pitch is his acceptance that he’s meant to be so much more than just a local debt collector. Everyone around him who cares about him seems really dedicated to pushing Taffin to be a bigger man. This is largely Charlotte’s only narrative function in the film, unfortunately, but there’s also a former teacher of Taffin’s who is interested in sparring intellectually with his former student in order to show the audience how learned our hero truly is.
There’s nothing particularly challenging or complex about Taffin, but it all goes down so smoothly and satisfyingly. It feels exactly like reading a Jack Reacher novel, where you know the hero is going to come out on top, and you know the villains are underestimating our hero, and that’s all part of the fun. While reinventing nothing, Taffin nevertheless manages to be a film I would gladly have welcomed as a trilogy or series of films, had things gone differently. It is apparently adapted from a series of novels, after all (by Lyndon Mallet). If cheering for an impossibly handsome hero to beat the bad guys at their own game and ride off into the sunset with the girl is wrong, then I don’t want to be right.
And I’m Out.
Taffin hits Blu-ray from Kino Lorber on March 16th, 2021.
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THE FATHER is a Disorienting and Visceral Depiction of Dementia
Anthony Hopkins leads a stellar ensemble in Florian Zeller’s adaptation of his award-winning stage play
Adapted from his award-winning French play, Florian Zeller’s feature debut The Father follows elderly Anthony (Anthony Hopkins) as he struggles to adapt to a domestic life that seemingly changes in an instant. His daughter, Anne (Olivia Colman), struggles to break the news that she’s found love — and that she plans to cross the English Channel to Paris for good. Her departure means someone else must care for Anthony in her absence — another in a long line of carers he’s somehow scared off. Around a corner, Anthony’s confronted by a man (Mark Gatiss) who claims to be Anne’s husband, and that Anthony’s lifelong flat is actually his. Anne steps in to remedy the situation — but she’s changed into someone else (Olivia Williams). Before Anthony knows it, so has Anne’s husband (Rufus Sewell), and before long, another carer (Imogen Poots) enters Anthony’s life. The flat grows increasingly unrecognizable — and, before too long, so does Anthony’s grasp on reality.
Films about dementia often split their focus between those who are afflicted with it and those who are affected by it. While featuring both roles may make for an impressive actors’ showcase, the end result can be somewhat polarizing. Dementia is an intensely personal disease — one that strips its sufferers of memory, attachment, and identity. Yet films like Amour, Still Alice, and Away From Her (as great as they may be in many other respects) feel like they do the stripping themselves — utilizing characters with Alzheimer’s or dementia who begin fully fleshed out, only to disintegrate into their condition. It’s an effective way to dramatize the effects of these conditions, but one that takes an all-too-literal approach that fosters an uncomfortable marriage between depersonalization and dehumanization.
Zeller’s film, however, takes a refreshing and sobering opposite approach. Rivetingly grounded in Anthony’s perspective through its entire runtime, The Father creates an unpredictable and unreliable world out of what should be familiar territory through practical innovations in cinematography, editing, and production design. The shifts in Anthony’s flat range from slight to profound — from shifts in furniture fabric and the positioning of wall sconces, to the arrangement of a room’s furniture, and even the location of rooms themselves in the flat. Objects shift and change from cut to cut, making Anthony’s world feel increasingly intangible amidst these plentiful details. And for all its unpredictable permutations, the world remains frustratingly familiar to Anthony and his audience–for Zeller’s film, it’s an incredibly visceral visual shorthand for the experience of dementia.
The film’s screenplay, adapted by Zeller and Christopher Hampton, works hand-in-hand with stellar editing by Yorgos Lamprinos to transform an already-lauded stage play into a film that’s as tightly-paced as much as it is a fluid and disorienting blur. Many of The Father’s scenes have an elusive elliptical quality, either circling back to where they began or shifting conflicts so often we aren’t sure where to target our emotions. It’s contradictory in one moment and wildly self-referential the next. One incredible scene is an ouroboros of fraught familial drama that somehow folds in on itself, shifting its beginning, middle, and end in an invisible shell game of writing and editing. Anthony’s reactionary disbelief and anger throughout can’t help but evoke our own.
And yet, there’s still faint glimmers of consistency where we can divulge more information about what might really be “going on.” These little nuggets of truth create something of a puzzle narrative out of The Father — but one whose surprises only further underscore the multiple tragedies at the heart of Anthony’s story.
Our other consistent anchors in the film are the performances by The Father’s terrific ensemble. Regardless of which role they play, Olivia Colman and Olivia Williams are wonderful as daughters who are forced into unwanted positions of care for their father — as is Rufus Sewell, who plays his palpable frustration as a tempting yet ultimately heartless emotion to give into in this situation. At the center, of course, is Anthony Hopkins — in a film whose circumstances are ever-volatile, he remains our deeply empathetic emotional surrogate. His Anthony refuses any semblance of depersonalization or even victimhood, even as whatever remains familiar fumbles increasingly out of reach. We never lose sight of Anthony’s sense of personality or identity — instead, it’s the world that’s becoming nightmarish and unbearable. It’s a rare, terrifying, and desperately needed shift in perspective when it comes to depicting dementia on film, one that Hopkins dedicates himself to with a trademark unflinching gravitas and humility.
As much of a disquieting horror film as it is a deeply-felt drama, The Father finds an inherent, disturbingly cinematic vehicle out of its protagonist’s psychological instability — yet never at the cost of Anthony’s dignity or sense of identity.
The Father opens in theaters on March 12th courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics.
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STOP! OR MY MOM WILL SHOOT: Sylvester Stallone & Estelle Getty Deliver Comedic Chemistry
Unsure why this one was so critically derided
A refreshing reminder that sometimes movies can be everything they need to be by offering nothing more than a hairbrained setup or a particularly delicious cast pairing, Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot delivers exactly what it promises, and delightfully so. Sylvester Stallone plays Joe Bomowski, a variant of Stallone’s onscreen personae from many films past: A tough bachelor cop with a case to crack. Estelle Getty plays a variant of her onscreen personae: a charming and overbearing old lady. The comedy gold of Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot is wrung out of the disperate pairing of these two icons (you just wouldn’t expect to see these two together in a film), and the genuine comedic chemistry and timing the two performers have together as drawn out by director Roger Spottiswood.
It is not lost on me that, as of this writing some 30 years after the film’s release, Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot sits at a painful 7% on Rotten Tomatoes, making my reaction to the film a major outlier. Perhaps my unapologetic love for Sylvester Stallone, or the fact that I didn’t have to shell out fifty bucks to schlep the whole family to the theater to see the film, colors my perception. (Though a recent first time watch of Stallone’s equally derided Rhinestone had me siding with the masses). But in this case I just can’t understand what critics and audiences wanted from a film called Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot starring Sylvester Stallone and Estelle Getty. I guess if the premise or the casting or the genre just really aren’t your thing, that’s understandable. But if you WANT to see a movie such as this, my sense is that it absolutely delivers everything a far out action comedy promises.
I’ve always believed that Stallone is underappreciated as a comedic talent. And Joe Bomowski’s put-upon tough guy act is actually loaded with examples of Stallone’s ability to emote humorously. And then there’s the matter of comedic timing (some of which can be magnified by a great editor, I’m sure), and I felt that Stallone and Getty had a remarkable chemistry and timing that genuinely had me guffawing at a few key interchanges. Getty, known for her comedy, also manages to defy expectations here by being somewhat sweet at times, not to mention capable. Part of the comedy is wrung out of the fact that Joe is entirely flummoxed by how much everyone ELSE absolutely loves his mom, and how her maternal instincts end up cracking the case wide open. Getty charmed me start to finish in this, rather than being the butt of the joke.
I will say that I’m quite certain there were times when I was laughing that maybe the film itself didn’t intend for me to laugh. But if I’m being entertained by the sheer ridiculousness of this film, I’m not sure it matters if my entertainment is a result of the film’s intentions or if it’s at the expense of the film. Either way, I’m entertained. Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot’s script (Blake Snyder, William Osbourne, William Davies) follows the classic structure of a romantic comedy, only swapping out the female romantic interest for the overbearing mom. This results in a scene where the duo almost “break up” and Getty’s Tutti (perfect name) is being whisked away on an airport golf cart as Stallone is chasing her down and shouting “I want you to stay” with music swelling and the whole nine yards. Reader, I cackled.
The big gamble of banking an entire film on chemistry and a wacky premise is that if the audience doesn’t bite, you’ve lost them. Clearly Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot took that gamble and, at least in 1992, lost. History hasn’t been kind to this film. And if I put myself in the shoes of that audience, I could understand that if you aren’t enjoying the bickering and co-dependency between Joe and Tutti… this film could be a slog. And while the action film tropes are all there, the big case isn’t the most engaging in cop movie history.
But I appreciated the action movie trappings and the skewering of Stallone’s other classic cop characters anywhere from Cobra to Demolition Man (yes, I’m aware this came after S!OMMWS) to Nighthawks. I’m given the opportunity to imagine what it would be like if Estelle Getty were to come wandering into any of those tough guy films throwing a wrench into the works. And I just find that gag endlessly humorous. So thanks, creative team behind Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot. You all put yourselves out there, swung for the fences with a ridiculous concept, and you no doubt took a lot of lickings when the film was largely rejected. But it’s still around, now in glorious high definition Blu-ray, and it found a new fan in me here in the year of our lord 2021.
And I’m Out.
Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot hit Blu-ray 03/09/2021 from Mill Creek Entertainment.
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BRING ME THE HEAD OF ALFREDO GARCIA: Kino Lorber Bags A Peckinpah Crime Classic
A feverish Neo-Western featuring an aces Warren Oates performance returns to Blu-ray
After Alfredo Garcia impregnates and abandons the daughter of a wealthy crime lord, El Jefe places a million-dollar bounty on Garcia’s head, sending the Mexican underground scrambling after him. Swept up in the chase is Bennie (Warren Oates, whose Peckinpah-borrowed sunglasses are almost glued to his eye sockets), who plays piano in hideaway Mexico City joints–until he learns that not only is Garcia dead, but that Bennie’s ex-girlfriend Elita (Isela Vega) cheated on him with Garcia just before his fatal accident…and she knows where his body’s buried. With the promise of riches secured just for digging up Garcia’s head, Bennie lures Elita out to the Mexican countryside–both unaware of the danger they both face until it’s far too late.
Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia is a lean, grimy piece of work, expertly crafted and full of sleaze in the most Peckinpah way possible. Fresh off the successes of Straw Dogs, The Wild Bunch, and The Getaway (as well as the disappointing box office of Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid), Peckinpah was in exile in Mexico when the opportunity arose to shoot a film in-country with a low budget and total creative control. The resulting film is a weird, existential melange of Peckinpah’s neuroses — from the seedy, stoic figures of machismo that lurk in the shadows of the underworld, to how even more untrustworthy smiling bureaucratic suits seem by comparison, to the wholly toxic relationships these men have with the women that are ill-fated to cross their path. And, of course, all the tension that can only be released with a tsunami of gunfire. It’s a world of suffering and cruelty beyond others in Peckinpah’s work — uinjustly even more so by the women of Alfredo Garcia. The decisions forced upon its characters are without any possible benevolent outcome — most notably everything faced by Elita and her journey of betrayal and misery that leads literally to the grave. Aside from Straw Dogs, Alfredo Garcia may be the absolute roughest Peckinpah film I’ve seen yet — completely black-hearted and unflinching in how disposable it treats the characters in its world.
But as Bennie finds a second scene partner in Garcia’s unseen head, Alfredo Garcia reveals that the most grueling thing about the film is just how restrained it can be. Its most explicit acts of violence are never shown — whether it be a wide-shot cutaway or just the faintest glimpse of Garcia’s chin before the titular act is nearly committed…before Bennie is knocked out by other parties, who go on to commit even worse acts before Bennie regains consciousness. Just as restrained is Oates’ wild performance, a lounge lizard who realizes just how bloodthirsty he can be forced to be if the circumstances are wrong enough. Underneath his impenetrable sunglasses is a man who longs for the kind of life Elita believes they’re capable of having — even if he knows that every action he takes places it tantalizingly out of reach.
Alfredo Garcia is as bleak as they come–but its narrative economy and fascinatingly complex turns by both Warren Oates and Isela Vega elevate it into one of Peckinpah’s most interesting films.
VIDEO/AUDIO
3/15/21 Update: It has come to our attention that Kino Lorber was supplied the wrong master for this release. A disc replacement program has begun for those who purchased this release.
Kino Lorber’s new Blu-ray of Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia is sourced from a 2017 1080p HD Master from a 4K scan of the film’s original camera negative, which was also used for Arrow Video’s release in the UK. The film is presented in its original aspect ratio of 1.85:1 with a 2.0-Channel Stereo DTS-HD Master audio track. English subtitles are presented solely for the feature.
This restoration manages to preserve a healthy amount of Peckinpah grain and grime while also delivering a technically crisp and clear transfer. A handful of scratched and worn shots stick out–notably in a brief stock footage montage as crews spirit off across Mexico to find Garcia–but this is likely due to Peckinpah’s crew not having the original negative for those shots themselves. Throughout, Peckinpah captures Mexico as no different than the wilds of England or the backroads of America–full of lush, hazy greenery and sharp blue skies, which contrasts effectively with the inky shadows and deep crimsons that lie in wait. The audio track has its fair share of 70s-era clicks and hisses, but dialogue remains clear and easy to understand for viewers.
SPECIAL FEATURES
- 2 Audio Commentaries, one featuring film historians and Peckinpah scholars Paul Seydor, Garner Simmons, and David Weddle, and the other featuring Alfredo Garcia co-writer Gordon Dawson. Both commentaries are moderated by Twilight Time producer Nick Redman, and are ported over from their original Blu-ray. Both tracks provide a welcome deep-dive into all things Peckinpah, from the sources of the film’s financing, to Peckinpah’s love of Mexico, to the film’s evocation and subversion of Westerns in a present-day non-American setting.
- Trailers from Hell sees screenwriter Josh Olson break down his love for the film set over the film’s theatrical trailer.
- Trailers and TV Spots from Alfredo Garcia’s theatrical run–notably interesting how Peckinpah’s gritty, choreographed violence is promised yet edited around for 70’s TV audiences.
- Image Gallery of production stills and behind-the-scenes images set to Jerry Fielding’s score.
- Trailers for Kino Lorber releases Junior Bonner and Convoy.
Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia is now available on Blu-ray and DVD courtesy of Kino Lorber.
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Two Cents Passes Judgment on DREDD
Two Cents is an original column akin to a book club for films. The Cinapse team thoughts on each film using a maximum of 200 words each. Guest writers and fan comments are encouraged, as are suggestions for future entries to the column. Join us as we share our two cents on films we love, films we are curious about, and films we believe merit some discussion.
The Pick:
Since his introduction in the pages of British sci-fi comic anthology 2000 A.D., in 1977 Judge Dredd has been cultishly adored by a devoted following. Created by writer John Wagner and artist Carlos Ezquerra, Judge Dredd was designed as a parody of the fascist, ultra-violent cop hero prevalent in media (especially American media) at that time.
With a face permanently covered except for his curled snarl and a seemingly limitless capacity for brutal justice, Judge Dredd patrols the post-apocalyptic metropolis of Mega-City One and the towering ‘city blocks’ where the survivors of nuclear war spend their violent days. ‘Judges’ investigate crimes and then serve as judge, jury, and, yup you guessed it, executioner.
Despite being a warped parody of gruesome Hollywood access, Hollywood has now twice come calling for Judge Dredd. The first adaptation, 1995’s Judge Dredd, starred Sylvester Stallone (and Rob Schneider) and does have its defenders. But comic fans were turned off almost immediately, as Stallone’s version of Dredd quickly removes his helmet (a critical no-no in the comics for decades).
In 2012, writer (and possible ghost director, depending on who you ask) Alex Garland and credited director Peter Travis devised a new big screen version of Judge Dredd, one that would be more faithful to the grimy, malicious energy of the original stories.
Dredd stars Karl Urban (permanently helmeted) as the eponymous lawman, who starts off the film being assigned a young, psychic rookie judge, Anderson (Olivia Thirlby) for training and evaluation. As part of that training, Dredd lets Anderson pick which crimes they will respond to that day, and by random chance she picks a triple homicide in the “Peach Trees” block.
Thus begins a very long, very bad day for the pair, as the random homicide investigations puts them in the warpath of the psychotic crimelord Ma-Ma (Lena Headey). It’s not long before Ma-Ma has sealed off the building and declared war on the judges, meaning that if Dredd and Anderson ever want to see daylight again, they’ll have to fight their way up 200 stories.
Dredd went largely unnoticed on theatrical release. Blame audience burnout on 3D releases. Blame the film looking a hair too similar to The Raid (a complete coincidence, acknowledged by all parties from both movies). Blame general American unawareness of the character. But almost immediately Dredd saw a major reappraisal and has quickly become one of the more popular cult films of the past decades, so much so that rumors of a sequel or some kind of return to this version of the world continue to swirl, with Urban apparently fully ready to clamp the helmet back on should the chance ever arrive.
And maybe it will, maybe it won’t. But for now, let’s go to war with Dredd.
Next Week’s Pick:
Visually inventive and endlessly endearing, Jorge Gutierrez’s ebullient, death-defying love story The Book of Life has, like Dredd, been a relatively underseen work of genius. Appearing on Disney+ recently has boosted the film’s visibility, leading to a wave of rediscovery of as well as a new surge of comparisons to the somewhat similarly plotted Coco (unfortunately for Coco).
Would you like to be a guest in next week’s Two Cents column? Simply watch and send your under-200-word review to twocents(at)cinapse.co anytime before midnight on Thursday!
Our Guests:
Dredd is lowkey one of the best comic book movies of the 2010s. It gets shorthanded as a riff on The Raid, which is understandable given that both use a similar “cops in a multi-story criminal-run complex” siege structure (which is older than The Raid but that movie is a pretty damn perfect example). But that’s pretty much where the similarities end. Whereas The Raid is one of the best martial arts action movies of the 21st century, Dredd relies far more on gunplay.
What Dredd gets right about its source comic is a pitch-black vision of the future inspired by Hollywood-style cop movies (think Dirty Harry) pushed to a satirical (albeit deadpan) extreme. Karl Urban is excellent (and surprisingly expressive) as the scowling titular judge who never removes his helmet. Lena Headey makes for an intense crime boss as well. Olivia Thirlby is also quite good as his helmetless rookie partner, who serves more or less as the audience’s way into the world of Mega-City One, as are Domhnall Gleeson and Wood Harris as the villain’s henchmen. But the action is the real star of the film, and aside from a handful of CGI effects that bugged me it is well-shot and relentless. I very much regret not getting to see Dredd in 3D when it played theaters for all of a weekend — I bet those super saturated slo-mo shots looked really cool. Dredd was clearly meant to start a franchise, but it stands on its own pretty well. At this point it’s been long enough that I can’t imagine a direct sequel will happen (but I would love to be wrong). (@T_Lawson)
The Team
Alex Garland’s brand of sci-fi tends to leave me cold, and for a long time I’ve lumped Dredd in with Ex Machina and Annihilation as striking, thoughtful movies that I admire deeply but that are so resolutely inhuman in their worlds and emotions that I bounce right off them.
Having finally rewatched Dredd for the first time in years, I’m happy that this time it really clicked for me. There’s a painterly beauty to the repulsive future depicted here, with blood splashing like wet ink on a canvas. I do still wish they got a little more mileage out of the visual possibilities of “slo mo” besides one shootout and one villain death but that seems like a quibble.
I may not love Dredd as fiercely as its loudest adherents, but I do hope that someday we get a return trip to this world, preferably with Urban’s scowling mug still guiding the way. (@TheTrueBrendanF)
Dredd is a fantastic film; laser focused, true to the spirit of the comic book character, and filled with ratcheting tension and killer hard-R action set pieces. That it resembles The Raid in structure and didn’t light the box office on fire are incidental to how truly awesome the film itself is.
So much of the impetus for Dredd to keep being adapted and readapted for current mediums is the brilliant foundation the original character was built on in the pages of British comics 2000 A.D. Creators John Wagner and Carlos Ezquerra have simply created an iconic and enduring character that, while maybe not hugely mainstream in the United States, nevertheless remains compelling and relevant. Famously never depicted without wearing his signature helmet, Dredd is always The Law. This trope was abandoned in Stallone’s Judge Dredd, much to fans’ dismay. And while this critic finds a lot to like in the high profile failure of that project, 2012’s Dredd nails Wagner and Ezquerra’s character far more squarely than 1995’s adaptation. (@Ed_Travis)
Read more of Ed’s thoughts on Dredd HERE.
I’ve read a pretty fair amount of Judge Dredd comics and consider myself a fan. And despite the helmet thing, I’m a big fan of the prior Stallone film, a sprawling and terrifically fun adventure in a futuristic dystopian wasteland, even if has more in common with Demolition Man than with 2000AD’s scowling lawbringer.
Where the prior adaptation successfully goes for a sprawling sense of scale, Dredd has more depth. I wish it could show off more of its world, but its tightly wound (and bound) siege story does a lot with a moderate budget.
Tower-structure action has been done before, but when it works, it really works, and the enormous tower does feel like a self-contained world within the larger, sprawling Megacity. Dredd and Anderson’s trek to the top of Ma-Ma’s criminal headquarters hits plenty of the right notes with explosive and suitably gruesome action, world-building, and the film’s celebrated “SloMo” drug effects. It’s a shame that it sees unlikely we’ll get a sequel to this terrific action film, though I hold out hope that a streaming giant will recognize and act on its potential. (@VforVashaw)
Next week’s pick:
https://www.disneyplus.com/movies/the-book-of-life/4qIPJn6YtAmH
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RUSSIAN RAID: A Balletic Showcase For Russian Action Cinema
Let’s get a Raid from every country!
An homage to Gareth Evans’ modern action masterpiece The Raid in both concept and execution, first time director Denis Kryuchkov apparently brought together all sorts of Russian martial artists, body builders, and athletes to create a showcase for Russian action cinema in a delightfully stripped down raid plotline. And, while this film doesn’t hold a candle to Evans’ mind blower (very few films do), I’d nevertheless welcome a Raid homage film from just about every country that wants to prove their action cinema bonafides in a similar fashion.
Russian Raid follows the complicated and bloody tale of Nikita (Ivan Kotik). Complicated may be a strong word, as the ultimate goal of Russian Raid is just to gather a few different factions into a large industrial complex and let them fight each other to the death. But Nikita is playing a long game here. Having been an eyewitness to his father’s murder as a child, Nikita has grown into an elite special forces sniper when he one day sees his father’s murderer through his sniper scope. Botching the job due to his personal desire for revenge, Nikita takes his skills to the black market where he’s able to go undercover in this titular raid and finally achieve his ultimate goal for revenge against his father’s murderer. At first he’s hired to lead a gang of young, tracksuit-wearing Russian hooligan types into this compound, and experiences a bunch of conflict with these knuckleheads as they break in for their own purposes. Other players enter the mix as the raid begins, and things get twisty and turney. Fortunately for Russian Raid, the more things twist, the better the film gets.
It took probably a full hour for Russian Raid to really click with me. I didn’t love how the very few women in the film were depicted, and the tracksuit thugs were just these immature hooligans that I didn’t find compelling, personally. And it seemed like their little crew, under Nikita’s leadership, was going to be the thrust of this whole thing. But midway through, Russian Raid gets more complicated when armed police show up, and now you’ve got multiple warring factions from the tracksuit kids to the criminal empire being raided to the armed police… and Nikita’s true goal of revenge… all playing out at once. This is when it starts to get really fun. And where Kotik really goes into full gear as the outright star of this film.
With small glimpses into Nikita’s childhood as a dancer, I believe Russian Raid was trying to offer a ballet influenced fight film. This is strictly my own read based on the brief dancing flashbacks and the unique kinds of grappling and bobbing and weaving that Nikita uses as he’s taking out bad guys left and right. A Russian ballet inspired fight film much in the way The Raid introduced the world to Silat or Ong Bak showcased Muay Thai. Regardless of whether that’s intentional or I just read into it too much, I really like both the way that Kotik moves in his fight scenes and the way those sequences are captured by Kryuchkov in energetic but clean takes showing off a lot of on screen fighting talent.
And, in a way, Russian Raid is somewhat of an inverse Raid, where it starts out as hand-to-hand combat and then once guns are introduced, all hell breaks loose. The Raid works so spectacularly as bullets run out and any weapon you can grab becomes the desperate survival instinct of its characters. Here, a situation that was supposed to be a fists-only affair becomes more deadly and charged when firearms are introduced. And it’s glorious to see Nikita just absolutely pop off. There’s an extended gun fight that plays out like hide and seek and ultimately the final act of Russian Raid kicks enough ass to offset some of the earlier misgivings I had. There are still some unfortunate gender dynamics at play and not everything works, but Russian Raid certainly introduces a few exciting filmmaking talents from Russia to the international action film community. And I gladly welcome their unique take on my favorite genre.
And I’m Out.
Russian Raid hits Digital, Blu-ray, & DVD March 9th, 2021 from Well Go USA Entertainment
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Spinema Issue 55: John Carpenter’s LOST THEMES III — A Welcome, If Not Exciting, New Album Of…
A Welcome, If Not Exciting, New Album Of Original Music
It’s hard to believe five years have passed since Lost Themes II unexpectedly arrived at my local record store. Considering what an expansion it was of John Carpenter’s singular music making abilities, I should have known it was heralding the arrival of the celebrated artist’s most prolific period since the 1980s. From the 2016 springboard, Carpenter has toured, released a compilation album of killer movie music re-recordings (Anthology), written a fresh and haunting movie score for the surprisingly excellent Halloween (2018), and now… my dude has a phone app.
More on that later. I’m here, of course, to talk about the latest in his series of original music releases. Throughout the course of the many ventures mentioned above, he continued growing his collaboration with son, Cody Carpenter, and Godson, Daniel Davies. 2021 finally welcomes their third record of themes found: Alive After Death. This is the first album in the series to be given a subtitle, and although it does offer several standout tracks, the subtitle is sort of the only newness it has to offer.
I like this album. I really do. However, where the first two (and that damn great Halloween score DAMN) really leaped from the dark and grabbed me, this is the first one to feel a bit like it’s just more of the same. I find it difficult to look past that small disappointment, but upon several listens, I’ve found a lot to love on III.
With the opening title track, we’re off to a reliably spooky start. A keyboard’s sustained low note creates a musical pavement for an uneasy series of high notes to walk on. This track possibly gives the listener a glimpse of the familial trio’s writing process. It starts small, but gradually many layers complicate the musical landscape until leading melodies emerge and shine through. The strongest leading element throughout this record seems to be some really craftily played electric guitar. Several tracks offer a lot of room for the player to operate in, and one can almost feel the delicacy taken in the attack of each bent pitch, or pinched harmonic. It’s a nasty good performance (mostly, I believe, by Cody).
To my mind, these parts make up the album’s most appealing whole on “Weeping Ghost”. It just offers so much for the listener to sink their ears into. A variety of sumptuous distorted synth tones sneak along that classic 80s chugging drum machine variety of percussion. It might also offer the album’s catchiest melody, thanks in no small part to one of the more satisfying chord progressions I’ve ever heard from these musicians.
Like I said, there are many tracks I like on Alive After Death, but to remain somewhat brief, I’d like to mention the only other track I really love. “Turning the Bones” offers a kind of innocence, and a creeping curiosity that skitters away just as you feel you might be getting acquainted with it. It’s comparable to an encounter with a stray animal; only this one isn’t so furry as much as it is a very charming collection of synth textures with an attractive tune. I like it more for not overstaying its welcome. Like so many things in life, its mystery makes it more appealing. That’s really the problem with the majority of this record. There isn’t much mystery, because so much of it is a little too familiar. Perhaps its lack of obvious appeal, though, will be the impetus for my revisiting it routinely. The real conundrum: why is a Carpenter super fan, such as myself, not immediately smitten?
THE PACKAGE
As anticipated, creative forces behind the design of this LP have created an elegant and fitting release. Even in that regard, however, LOST THEMES III doesn’t quite offer the “coolness” of its predecessors. Those die-cut outer sleeves on II and Anthology just about made this nerd drool. This package does offer incredibly intense photography from Sophie Gransard. I would like to know more about how label, Sacred Bones, and the band, navigate the design process, because they always deliver something so fun to look at… this time in about a dozen variants!
I dove onto the Sacred Bones mail-order exclusive like it was a live grenade surrounded by clueless puppies. It features a red, white, and black “striped” disc. For whatever reason, the label seemingly offered up this album to just about anybody who wanted a piece, and now there are several websites offering stunning colored vinyl permutations. Google if interested. Mine also came with a huge poster my fiancé is begging me to frame and hang over our bed. What a weirdo….
As always, Sacred Bones offers a digital download card for convenience, which brings us to the final mixed-bag item on this review’s to-do list…
This record sounds incredible! The first several releases from Sacred Bones bore the hallmarks of direct-from-digital sourcing. They were flat, lacking dynamics, and a bit distorted. They were fun to hear, but didn’t exactly offer much in the way of fidelity. I’m happy to report that within the last three years or so, this label must have starting paying for vinyl mastering. This bad boy bursts right out of your speakers with sound you can really feel. With tactile sound, also comes physical noise… POP….tick, click..
Happily, I can assume my copy may be an outlier. According to reviews on Discogs.com, most listeners report “dead silent wax”. Buy with confidence, friends!
And yes… he now has an app for Storm King Productions, which is he and wife, Sandy King Carpenter’s, media empire. Plenty of information there on their comic book publications, his music, a never-ending trivia game, and monthly contests you can enter free of charge! Check it out wherever you get your phone apps.
Get it at Amazon:
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Remembering the Alamo Mainstreet
Fond memories of films, friends, and Kansas City’s coolest place to catch a movie
closure announcement banner from the Alamo Drafthouse Mainstreet website The Alamo Drafthouse is first and foremost an Austin institution, and in our remembrance today my Cinapse colleagues are sharing some of their fondest memories of the Alamo Ritz.
The news making the rounds this week of the Alamo Drafthouse’s financial restructuring and closure of the Ritz also came with other casualties — including my own local Drafthouse, the Alamo Mainstreet in Kansas City.
That’s me at center with Terror Tuesday host Adrian Torres on the mic. Photo by Josh Wille. In 2012 I celebrated the announcement that the famed cinephile-friendly theater brand was coming to town, and my first time sitting in a Drafthouse was for one of the location’s earliest events, Van Dammage, a JCVD quadruple feature culminating in a midnight drop of Expendables 2. I was hooked.
My theatrical viewing has slowed down after having kids, but for a few years I was a familiar regular, taking in as many repertory screenings as possible from the most revered of cinema classics to, well, Blood Freak.
The Raiders Tour — Eric Zala, me, Chris Strompolos, and Rob Fuller — photo by a helpful fellow cinephile I’ve been able to attend lots of awesome events like the Fantastic Fest Tour, the KC Japanese Film Festival, and the Raiders Roadshow, and see live appearances of a couple of my favorite real-life heroes who have had a profound impact on my life, TMNT co-creator Kevin Eastman and the eternally foxy action queen, Pam Grier.
Pam Grier, legend I got a chance to see so many of my own all-time favorite films theatrically, most of them for the first time on the big screen (The Life Aquatic, The Fountain, TMNT, Sunshine, Children of Men, Ghostbusters, Hot Fuzz, The Good the Bad and the Ugly, Predator, Point Break), and found some new ones too, like the unassuming but incredible Race with the Devil. Many of these screenings were in 35mm — after all, the Drafthouse was one of the last places to still see films on film and I leaned hard into that.
Kevin Eastman with host Ryan Davis I was able to experience the full majesty of the science fiction of Blade Runner, Gravity, and especially the revelation of Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey, which was completely transformed by the theatrical experience.
I visited the weird wonders of Brazil, The City of Lost Children, The Wicker Man, and Rosemary’s Baby.
I rocked to Pink Floyd’s animated opus The Wall, the soulful proto-punk documentary exploring A Band Called Death, the L.A. punk-infused Repo Man, and a faded pink print of the Ramones-starring Rock & Roll High School (with a live cover band playing their hits).
I basked in the classical grandeur of Casablanca, Citizen Kane, Ikiru, M, Charade, and Black Narcissus.
I was dismembered on Friday the 13th, unmasked on Halloween, and on more than one occasion dreamed A Nightmare on Elm Street dressed as Freddy Krueger.
Getting axed by my wife Annette at her first time seeing FRIDAY THE 13TH! Photo credit: Alamo My first time watches of cult classics Alligator, Beastmaster, The Deadly Spawn, Candy Tangerine Man, The Visitor, Mighty Peking Man, Point Blank, and Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!, all took place within these storied walls.
It’s even where I viewed the screening that became my first Cinapse review (The Lego Movie).
Perhaps best of all, my son’s first time attending a movie was a Drafthouse-hosted outdoor showing of my own favorite film: The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, a film that challenges me to be a better dad. He was too young to remember, but I’ll always treasure it.
With Sy (photo by KJ), host Ryan Davis, and Sy again with my pal KJ The Alamo wasn’t perfect and certainly had some issues (a recent article in The Pitch highlighted some of these problems), but I’ll always appreciate the theater and my experiences there, not only onscreen, but with my wife and friends, and also with new friends made from among the theater staff and other film enthusiasts and regulars who make up the local film community.
Pee-wee’s Big Adventure — yep, it’s one of the many films I’ve seen at the Drafthouse. I remember the Alamo.
A/V Out.
Photos in this article are the author’s unless otherwise noted.
https://letterboxd.com/vforvashaw/list/v4vs-alamo-drafthouse-kc-log/
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400 BULLETS: Rising Action Star Jean-Paul Ly Headlines Meat & Potatoes Siege Film
You’ve seen it before, but this time Jean-Paul Ly is doing it!
“Honour should always be rewarded”
Unremarkable yet satisfying, the primary motivation for checking out 400 Bullets, the latest siege action film to hit the market, is headliner Jean-Paul Ly. With Jailbreak and Nightshooters already under his belt, Ly has become a rising talent to watch. While 400 Bullets doesn’t showcase Ly as much as either of those previous films, it is nice to see him getting leading man roles in action films, and 400 Bullets provides moderate thrills and solid fight work to showcase his skills.
Writer/Director Tom Paton (Black Site) here tells the tale of British soldier Noah Brandt (Andrew Lee Potts, The Crown, Primeval) as he tries to protect some guidance microchip macguffins from an elite team of commando traitors who’re trying to sell missiles to a middle eastern warlord for top dollar. Brandt barely escapes with his life and the guidance chips and he ends up stumbling upon Rana Rae (Ly), who’s essentially the only soldier manning a post at a remote base in the mountains. The minute Brandt stumbles upon this base, Rae’s fate is somewhat sealed, and the two of them must fight to their last bullet if they want to survive.
It’s a tried and true formula which has been repackaged hundreds of times before. But there’s a reason siege films or Die Hard scenarios or treasure hunt tales work over and over again. We want to watch movies like these because we want to imagine ourselves facing down life or death challenges and coming out victorious and heroic on the other side. 400 Bullets acquits itself admirably in the pantheon of siege films, but it doesn’t stand out from the pack in very many remarkable ways.
A few things that are worth singling out for praise are the performances and physical capabilities of the two leads already mentioned, as well as the film’s villain Bartlett (James Warren, The Gentlemen, King Arthur: Legend Of The Sword). Warren probably delivers the most delicious performance in the film and makes his presence known as a formidable screen talent. Bartlett doesn’t offer much dimensionality as a villain willing to shift loyalties on a dime if it’ll earn him a dollar, but Warren’s physicality and personality in the role are notable. Composer Max Sweiry appears to have collaborated with Paton on several films and I felt the music was quite cool and added value to the final product.
But I was in this for Jean-Paul Ly. And while I’ll keep following his career and checking out his stuff, 400 Bullets didn’t quite feel like a giant leap forward for him. I’d have loved to see him credited as fight choreographer, but it appears (at least based on credits) that his role was largely in front of the camera. He’s a compelling screen fighter but Rae never develops all that much as a character beyond vaguely fighting and standing up for “honor”. It’s actually effective, but never quite memorable. Ly’s recent collaboration with filmmaker Ross Peacock on the contextless brutal fight to the death short action film Acéré is actually a more compelling showcase for Ly’s work than 400 Bullets.
Action fans and Jean-Paul Ly enthusiasts will find plenty to enjoy in 400 Bullets. It holds the viewers hand and leads them through a meat and potatoes military siege film with few surprises but also strong work all around before and behind the camera. There are dozens of better siege films out there, but also dozens worse.
And I’m Out.
400 Bullets hits Blu-ray/DVD, Digital and On Demand March 2nd, 2021 from Shout! Studios
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Spinema Issue 54: TRUTH TO POWER — The Incredible Story of Serj Tankian’s Fight for Accountability
How an incendiary rock star’s Armenian heritage informed his calling and impacted the world
Truth to Power is now streaming in virtual cinema engagements.
At a glance one might surmise that Truth to Power is a typical music documentary in the common understanding of that idea; a film about an artist, made for fans of that artist.
While fans will certainly vibe with this story, it’s just not that kind of film.
Truth to Power does cover the history of Serj Tankian’s musical career, both as frontman for System of a Down and in his solo work, then widens its scope: this is a man who has always had bigger things on his mind.
For his entire career as a musician, Tankian has been an advocate for justice and social causes. His heritage as an Armenian informs every part of his life, including his calling as an artist and citizen of the world. His grandparents escaped the Armenian Genocide of 1915, an event obscured by history, little known to most, but absolutely formative in his own life and within the intenational Armenian community, a people living in diaspora around the world. It became his mission to overturn the US’s insulting stance of not recognizing the Armenian Genocide in an official capacity.
Tankian tells his own story firsthand, with some help from friends including other members of System of a Down (who are also of Armenian descent), and their legendary producer Rick Rubin.
Tankian’s deep political interest and advocacy made him both beloved and hated, at home and in his mother country, and his rhetoric sometimes polarized fans, frustrated his bandmates, made powerful enemies, got him into trouble, and limited the band’s commercial career opportunities.
As Tankian’s celebrity profile increased, so too did both his interest in his homeland and his ability to influence change. His attention turned to the Armenian state and its corrupt government, and in 2015 — the centennial of the Armenian genocide — the reunited band played their historic first show in the country. It would prove to be a catalyst for change with an angry populace.
Even as a casual fan of System of a Down who owns their records and was aware of their political activism, most of this story was unknown to me. I was completely floored by where the film ends up going, and very much moved by Tankian’s story. I was not prepared for the astonishing events that would unfold, with a new Armenian revolution and Tankian himself becoming something of a national hero.
It’s satisfying and inspiring to see how decades of work and activism do bear fruit, and I was definitely swept by the drama of this fascinating account, even if I was always acutely aware that this is Tankian’s own telling of how things transpired in his life.
While Tankian doesn’t appear to be credited as a producer on the film, his “Serjical Strike Entertainment” production company’s logo appears prominently. There’s no question that this is his version of this history, and that could open it up to hagiographical possibilities, especially considering how the story centers directly on Tankian directly, to the exclusion of the band’s other members (who make only brief appearances).
But despite the film’s inherent bias, I don’t think at all that Tankian is taking a dishonest approach here or trying to take credit for international events that are obviously far bigger than his personal influence — it really seems that Tankian is just genuinely and rightly proud to have had a hand not only in honoring his family’s legacy and making some rad fucking music, but also in making history.
He wanted to tell his incredible story.
And I for one am very glad that he did.
A/V Out.
