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POTW: IN THE HEAT OF THE NIGHT — Investigating The Racist South
Cinapse Pick of the Week
Exactly what it sounds like, the Pick of the Week column is written up by the Cinapse team on rotation, focusing on films that are past the marketing cycle of either their theatrical release or their home video release. So maybe the pick of the week will be only a couple of years old. Or maybe it’ll be a silent film, cult classic, or forgotten gem. Cinapse is all about thoughtfully advocating film, new and old, and celebrating what we love no matter how marketable that may be. So join us as we share about what we’re discovering, and hopefully you’ll find some new films for your watch list, or some new validation that others out there love what you love too! Engage with us in the comments or on Twitter or Facebook! And now, our Cinapse Pick Of The Week…
In 1967, in the fictional small town of Sparta, Mississippi, the summer is producing the kind of punishing nights that don’t allow for sleep. Officer Sam Wood (Warren Oates!) drives his nightly patrol, briefly pausing at the home of 16-year-old nudist, Delores Purdy (Quentin Dean), before crawling downtown. There, he discovers the burgled and bludgeoned body of the wealthiest man in town — a man with plans of growing Sparta with an integrated factory. After Police Chief, Bill Gillespie (Rod Steiger), visits the crime scene, Officer Wood searches the town for suspects, when he happens upon an African American man waiting at the train station. Being a black stranger, one with a wallet full of cash, Wood assumes he has found his perp. Back at the station, Gillespie makes the same immediate assumption, until brief questioning of the man reveals he is Mr. Virgil Tibbs (Sidney Poitier), an expert homicide detective from Philadelphia. Clueless as to who the killer might actually be, with his face thoroughly covered in egg, prejudiced Gillespie begrudgingly asks Tibbs to stay and work the case for him. Just as prejudiced and begrudging, Tibbs takes the job, as he has missed the only train out of town for the time being. Together, they face the impossible politics of racism and small town life, and discover this crime, with a veneer of simplicity, is far more complex than either could have guessed.
In The Heat Of The Night is one of the Oscar Winners nobody seems to talk about anymore, but its passionate filmmaking and jaw dropping exploration of racism makes it resonate just as strongly today. That is partially thanks to this drama being disarmingly funny. Perfectly timed moments of real humor cut the intensity with hilarious ease, and occasionally amplify it. Nicknamed “Super-spade Versus The Rednecks”, audiences of the day were stunned by the exploits of Detective Tibbs — a man not just on a mission to solve a crime, but who demands respect from the white bigots in Sparta.
Sitrling Silliphant’s screenplay (adapted from the novel), is exquisite, and doesn’t allow anything to be easy for the characters or their predicament. Rod Steiger’s Oscar Winning performance is a fascinating portrayal of a good man who is none-the-less hardwired for bigotry. It was (and for many people, still is), a way of life at the time, and watching him be slowly pulled away from his ignorant beliefs is a hard-earned thrill. Gillespie’s temper is outfitted with a half-inch fuse, and his racist outbursts often feel instinctual, rather than methodically chosen by the pen of an objective writer. That same pen is responsible for one of the most iconic lines in cinema history: “They call me ‘Mr. Tibbs!’” It’s an incredibly restrained line, in a scene which could so easily have been overwrought. Wisely, the language is written plainly, and the powerful delivery of Poitier expands the statement into something more like, “Northern people treat me like a human, you ignorant piece of shit”.
In every department, the film is staffed by a rock star filmmaker. Prolific Norman Jewison directed, Hal Ashby edited, Quincy Jones (Yes, Thriller’s Quincy Jones) composed the score, as well as a song performed by Ray Charles, and the legendary cinematographer, Haskell Wexler shot this movie in astonishing perfection. The images are so perfectly composed, that even after having not watched it for years, I remembered so many scenes from In The Heat Of The Night exactly as they are.
Quincy Jones’s score is painfully cool. His fiery (may I call them “acid”?) jazz compositions provide the perfect tone for every scene. Occasionally, his cues are a little too on-the-nose, as they enforce the meaning of lines we already fully understood, but his tunes are so tasteful, it’s hard to complain. This project was one of his earliest film scores, and the indelible music he created here understandably made him a rising star.
It all comes together to make extraordinary cinema. This is the kind of film experience which stays with you forever as an instant icon, despite a few noticeable flaws. One awfully distracting error, which is far more noticeable in the HD age, shows up in a single night scene. Every actor is practically always dripping with sweat (what with the title and all), but during one exterior, all performers spout vapor from their mouths. Reason being, Sidney Poitier refused to shoot anywhere south of the Mason Dixon. So, the deepest location they filmed was in Tennesee. It sort of breaks the tension in an unfortunate way, but one can hardly focus on that single blemish on this otherwise fantastic film.
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SPECTRE: Just Here To Remind You 007 Is Marvel’s Prototypical Franchise
What’s so bad about Spectre? Nearly everything: The screenplay is uninteresting, derivative, and eviscerated by an amazingly stupid plot hole involving a watch, the action scenes have no sense of stakes or creativity, the talents of Lea Seydoux and Christoph Waltz are wasted on bland and empty characters, and the film commits the most heinous crime of all — it’s dreadfully boring.
Before this tirade goes on any longer, let me say there are a couple bright spots in this dim sequel. It’s gorgeously photographed by Hoyte Van Hoytema (although this film is miles away from the beauty Roger Deakins poured over Skyfall), and Dave Bautista is extremely cool as a classic henchmen.
Sure, it can also boast another excellent performance by Daniel Craig. However, far worse than anything mentioned in the introductory paragraph, is this allegedly fresh and re-imagined franchise’s sudden adherence to Hollywood’s most irritating modern trend. A handful of plot details, intended as mind-blowing revelations (all of which were easily deciphered in the trailer), have retro-converted the Craig series into a serialized narrative. I was concerned this must be the case as soon as Waltz’ character uttered the line, “It’s me James. The author of all your pain” (again, from the trailer), and not one of these developments, though they do tie the films together, seem to matter. Who cares if this was all the work of one guy? It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t really alter our perspective on the prior installments (because their stories were all self-contained). All this really tells us is James Bond has succumbed to the Marvelization of entertainment cinema: universe expansion, lazy, self-referential storytelling, and overarching, episodic narratives which never really, or maintain focus, and would rather concentrate on setting itself up for the next movie.
As I mulled these upsetting developments in this mostly strong series of films, it occurred to me there is something of a ‘chicken or the egg’ causal relationship at work here. The more I thought about it, though more adept at it, the earliest Bond films were utilizing this brand of myth-building story development. You’ve probably already read several reviews hailing or hating this movie for bringing some familiarity into this franchise via Spectre, and like it or not, this does feel more like classic Bond. The tone is more playful, and as I mentioned earlier, Dave Bautista and Lea Seydoux are reminders of the early days, to varying degrees of success. The strongest similarity to the Sean Connery run, however, has to be the way it sets itself up for a million sequels.
From inception, with Dr. No, what could easily have been a one-off jaunt into energetic sexploitative espionage escapism, instantly finds longevity and security by introducing the idea of an anti-MI6. Spectre is mentioned in one scene near the climax of the film, and who wouldn’t want to know more about it? Of course, the possibility of meeting more colorful characters like the film’s namesake isn’t the only reason the franchise took off. The movie was a hit because it was sexy and charming and thoroughly entertaining and imaginative, plus it was adapted from an already-beloved series of novels born in the 50s. Today, with a film named for that evil organization introduced in the first outing, this latest picture isn’t sexy, charming, entertaining, or imaginative… but it sure tries to expand its universe.
SPOILER ALERT: (yeah, right)… Waltz is Blofeld (duh) — a fact revealed by a shot of a fluffy white cat (fart sound). Also… he and Bond are step-brothers (duh/who cares?). It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t mean anything, and again, it doesn’t affect anything that came before… but it could be instrumental in shaping the future of the franchise. By the film’s climax, Bond has taken out Blofeld and his secret compound, but he hasn’t killed him, and he certainly hasn’t destroyed the whole organization. Is this the beginning of more lazy garbage? Will the franchise now be culling familiar elements and characters from the old films the way Marvel does from its comics, more for the sake of fan-service than quality filmmaking? If so, it’s only continuing what it started over 50 years ago. Fans of the novels had the opportunity to come see all their favorite characters brought to new life on film, just like comic book fans eagerly anticipate every new character’s introduction into Marvel’s cinematic universe.
Before Marvel’s aggressive expansion, 007 was the world’s largest mainstream franchise. It’s a story that never ends, with a character, though he can be constantly reborn, who never dies. Spectre, as long as its box office returns can help it survive being one of the most expensive movies ever made, has made the franchise look like Marvel’s biggest influence now more than ever. The tradition of episodic storytelling might date back farther to the first comic books, but even those short installments of a larger story were more proficient at consummation. Spectre feels like a stepping-stone. The lifeless film is so inconsequential, one has to wonder if it is only a placeholder for an enormous framework of future films.
Sound familiar? Well, it might have been 007’s idea, all along…
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THE PEANUTS MOVIE: Good, Good, Charlie Brown
by Ryan Lewellen
The sacred melancholy underdog, Charlie Brown, has been dearly loved by so many generations, it’s no surprise the news of a new animated movie was met with skepticism and concern. What would it look like? How could they get it right? Would they update it and transform the tone beyond recognition? Written by a trio including Schultz’ son and grandson, and directed by the not-too-prolific, but gifted Steve Martino, the completely harmless and utterly delightful The Peanuts Movie is the biggest surprise of the year so far. All the familiar characters are back, just as you’ve always known them (most of them outfitted with eerily similar voices to the original cast), and although the animation is in every way, bigger and more imaginative than ever, the film is perfectly sweet, and remains staunchly true to its source material. One might even complain the film took its faithfulness too far.
The Peanuts gang is already half-done with their current school year, and poor Charlie Brown is still stuck in his inescapable rut. Determined to find a path toward social significance, he works tirelessly upon a pitching mound in the middle of winter. Then, his search to be noticed is refocused on a more specific target, because The Little Redheaded Girl has moved in right across the street from him. Too mortified to introduce himself, he must find the perfect opportunity to lure her into acquainting herself with him, and between a talent show, an amazingly high score on a test, and a book report, Charlie’s bad luck repeatedly forces him to give up his dream for the sake of others.
The animators have taken the unassuming scribbles which became so iconic of the comic strips and television specials, and brought them to unbelievable new life in a creative compromise. The icons are intact, and the characters remain perfectly recognizable, but in every scene — from the dizzying, to the dour — they burst with textures and colors in 3D animation to create a look I never could have imagined before. It’s a wholly original aesthetic, and I find myself once again recommending people see this movie in its intended format. It’s a fascinating vision, and in some of Snoopy’s wilder fantasies (he is composing a novel on his adventure with The Red Baron), I find myself wishing I could crawl inside the screen and become part of this beautiful world.
Charlie’s journey is much less adventurous, as it is full of his special brand of embarrassing failures. Every time his hopes sore higher, the crashing of his tender ego is more severe, and it starts to appear as though his fight for acceptance might be a lost cause. Of course, the always honorable Mr. Brown couldn’t be let down forever, and that’s what is so endearing about his fight and this film. The movie reaffirms the belief that some benevolent force out there: the universe, or God, or Karma, or The Kite-eating Tree will eventually reward you for all the good you put into the world. The struggle to do right, even at the expense of your own happiness, does improve lives, including your own.
Complimenting that endearing sweetness is a healthy dose of humor. The movie is quite funny, and should at least draw a smile from adults and children, alike (I know, because I am both). The only disappointment here is how often the film feels the need to pay homage to the classic gags. Practically every joke from A Charlie Brown Christmas finds its way into the script. For the sake of authenticity, there should be the occasional reference, but nearly every familiar routine left my fellow audience members completely silent, and the pace of the film seemed to stall at many of these moments, as well. It almost gave the impression the filmmakers were taking a break from the potentially uncomfortable freshness of their creations to remind everyone ‘It’s okay, see? Still The Peanuts’. It’s only a small nuisance, and these awkward seconds tick by quickly enough to not spoil one’s enjoyment. The Every-kid is still one of my favorite characters to watch, and I could have watched him here for hours. I’m glad to have him back in what I hope is updated just enough to encourage a new generation of kids to live a life of selflessness.
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DARK BLUE: The Revolution Starts With You
by Ryan Lewellen
Olive Films’ release of 2002’s DARK BLUE could hardly be hitting retail at a more poignant time. Really, anytime in the past couple years would have been woefully appropriate, given how many disturbing instances of police brutality, particularly against minorities, have pervaded news stories and given rise to a new activist movement. Set in Los Angeles in 1992, during the final days of the trial acquitting the four officers who assaulted Rodney King, Sergeant Eldon Perry (Kurt Russell) has been doing a lot of dirty work for his Commander (Brendan Gleeson). He has fabricated stories and evidence in hearings on the department’s use of deadly force. Currently, his partner’s career is on the line, that of Bobby Keough (Scott Speedman), but with a few big lies, he is exonerated. In the midst of all this corruption, and plenty of racism, Assistant Chief Arthur Holland (Ving Rhames) is taking every fully legal action he can muster to reform the L.A.P.D., even if it means destroying his career or life in the process. Holland might be getting a big break, as Perry discovers his superior officer’s favorite informants might be doing far more for their boss than trading secrets.
As a longtime fan of his, I find it fitting to start by saying Kurt Russell’s performance is phenomenal here. He’s perfect for the complex role, because despite Perry’s bigotry and questionable detective work, we have to be rooting for him by the end of the film. We are, of course, and that narrative feat of empathy is achieved in two ways. First, Gleeson’s character is even more despicable and corrupt than his subordinate. Secondly, Russell is every bit as charming and charismatic here as he was playing someone like Jack Burton. That doesn’t justify his actions, but sort of like watching an affectionate crotch-dog, you can see he’s a shit, but you can’t help but smile at him.
Perry has spent most of his life, and his entire career, certain he was always doing the unfortunate, but necessary deeds to make the world a better place. Then, when some nearly legitimate detective work brings him to the conclusion Darryl Orchard and Gary Sidwell (the above-mentioned informants) are guilty of murder, he loses his framework of denial. It’s perfectly clear to him they must be brought to justice, and just as obvious Commander Van Meter is hiding something from him. Watching Gleeson’s character pull rank and lash out, when the two have been so raucously chummy, is fairly powerful, and Russell nails the reaction.
As the film moves along at an even pace, characters intriguingly change and develop, and motivations for that change always remain organic and concrete. As the film boils to the climax, the Rodney King trial comes to a close, and Los Angeles descends into chaos. For the most part, Director Ron Shelton’s handling of the riot scenes are disturbingly harrowing, but with such an enormous group of African American extras running amok, his indifferent shooting makes them look too alien. The camera leaves most of them faceless, as though the anger which ignited the violence was born of a zombie virus, rather than a real world outrage. These perpetrators were not justified in their actions, but they were still human.
DARK BLUE, based on a story by crime novelist James Elroy, with a script written by David Ayer (who has recently made a bigger name for himself), makes for a compelling crime drama. It won’t be blowing any minds, as its unremarkable filmmaking approach neither provokes much thought, nor quickens the pulse. That being said, anyone with an interest in Kurt Russell, or the politics it gently explores wouldn’t walk away from it having felt their time was wasted.
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THE ARCHIVIST XXXI: Halloween Round 5 — Slasher VS. Slasher
by Ryan Lewellen
The Archivist
Welcome to the Archive. Following the infamous “Format Wars” (R.I.P. VHS), a multitude of films found themselves in danger of being forgotten forever due to their admittedly niche appeal. Thankfully, Warner Bros. established the Archive Collection, a Disc On Demand & Streaming service devoted to some of the more idiosyncratic pieces of cinema ever made. Being big fans of the label, we here at Cinapse thought it prudent to establish a column devoted to these unusual gems. Thus “The Archivist” was born — a biweekly look at some of the best, boldest and most batshit motion pictures the Shield has to offer. Some of these will be recent additions to the collection, while others will be titles that have been available for awhile. With over 1,500 pictures procurable on Warner Archive (and more being added every month), there’s no possible way we’ll get to all of them. But trust me when we say we’re sure going to try.
Give me a break, guys. I had to move, and Halloween insisted on coming and going without me. Yet, here we are, with the final round of The Archivist’s October horror cycle. I may not be bringing you this installment in time for the big day this year, but at least you will have these five articles for future reference. The Warner Archives are, after all, home to some rather prestigious (in their own right) horror titles. This week, two good ol’ slashers from the bloody genre’s golden era, and the first film up for discussion boasts the dubious honor of a “Video Nasty” dubbing, courtesy of some squeamish folks in The UK.
NIGHT SCHOOL (1981)
Bodies are showing up all over Boston… bodies without heads. The heads are also showing up — nearby in whatever water-filled container is most convenient. A pair of detectives is on the hunt for the deranged killer, and all signs seem to point to a philandering anthropology professor. As they turn up the heat on their lead suspect, the Dr. is trying to keep his latest affairs just under the radar of the all-female College’s administrator, and the only woman he wants for anything more than a fling, Eleanor Adjai (Rachel Ward in her debut).
I was surprised to discover this film made the list of Video Nasties. It’s really not particularly violent, considering its disturbing premise. Most of the mutilation is barely visualized, or not shown at all, but there are a couple sequences of head discovery which must have lured the censorship. Not coincidentally, they were the only two scenes capable of garnering much reaction from me. I won’t go into much detail in case you’re thinking you want to track this one down (I don’t recommend you do — it’s dull, poorly-written and the acting is mostly bad), but one scene really brings the squirms as it repeatedly plays your expectations. It also features another uncommon and commendable “surprise”, but the script isn’t nearly so deft at misdirection as the shooting. You know right out the gate what character is the red herring, and who the killer must truly be. Check it out only if you’ve run out of the capstone entries in the genre. In spite of what could be an interesting exploration of gender politics…or something, it just doesn’t add up to much of a watch.
KILLER PARTY (1986)
Thankfully, the week wasn’t a complete waste, because the powerfully bug-nutty KILLER PARTY offers a mother load of practical effects, bizarre 80s trends, only semi-successful humor, and the perfect slasher tone. Three college girls are dying (ahem) for induction to an exclusive sorority. Unfortunately for them, the disrespectful Greek leaders have chosen an allegedly haunted old frat house as hazing-ground-zero, as well as an April Fool’s party (somehow the movie encompassed the school year from October to April, and I never figured out how… one day it’s almost Halloween, and then it’s spring). It seems this party is the perfect place for a vanished frat brother to take his revenge.
The film opens with a movie, within a music video… within a movie. As soon as the music video began, which would best be described as, “The 80s, with The 80s shoved up its ass”, I was hoping this was actually a musical and I had missed the memo. The hair metal might only stick around for one vignette, but KILLER PARTY isn’t exactly all downhill from there. Our three heroines are just appealing enough to get us earnestly rooting for them, so watching them navigate the gauntlet of ritual sorority psychosis is grosser than usual, and when all hell breaks loose at the climax, their predicament is surprisingly unsettling. This might be the perfect party movie for your Halloween season. It’s a riot, and practically begs to be watched in a group under the influence.
Happy belated Halloween, everybody.
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BRIDGE OF SPIES: The Cold War’s White Knight
by Ryan Lewellen
In 1957, Brooklyn insurance lawyer James Donovan (Tom Hanks) is put-upon by his respected firm’s superiors for a definitively thankless task. The FBI has caught Rudolf Abel (the brilliant Mark Rylance), a man who is undoubtedly a Soviet spy, but rather than immediately sentence him to death, the government believes he must publicly stand a fair trial to save face. Unanimously voted for the job, Donovan takes his duty more seriously than anyone had hoped. Even the presiding judge is disturbed by the defense attorney treating this case as anything more than a mere procedural obligation. The trial goes on, and though Abel is found guilty, Donovan has succeeded in saving him from the death sentence. Thanks to his efforts, when an American spy is captured by Soviet forces some time later, the CIA can use Abel as a bargaining chip, and has chosen Donovan to negotiate the exchange in Berlin (both Berlins). Even more a fish-out-of-water scenario than before, the clever American lawyer must keep his wits about him as he navigates a conflict of espionage and manipulation by way of his impermeable moral compass.
Spielberg’s latest film is not a story of America triumphing over evil. Bridge Of Spies is about one man, perhaps we might call him a “rugged individual”, standing between two warring tribes. In this regard, and a few others, one can think of this film as a Western with an Eastern setting. He isn’t armed with a gun, but with an objective righteousness — an unwavering determination to find the right thing, and do it. Who better to play such a role than Tom Hanks? The veteran leading man is as appealing as ever in this role, and he makes for a perfectly sympathetic and inspiring protagonist. His regular screen partner, Rylance, might have stolen the show had he only been featured in a larger portion of it. As Abel, his calm silence is at first, unsettling, but as his character slowly becomes more recognizably human, that creepy quiet is replaced with prudent wisdom. The excellent work doesn’t end with them, however, all the characters are finely written and fully realized by the wonderful cast.
Now, this is Spielberg we’re talking about, here. Even Schindler’s List has a surprising amount of pep and humor, and the comedy is in no short supply in his vision of this short act in The Cold War. The movie is quite funny, thanks I’m sure to screenwriter Marc Charman’s collaborators, The Coen Brothers. That being said, is isn’t all heartfelt warmth and giggles that form this narrative, and the filmmakers don’t shy away from glimpses of the dimmest corners of these dark days. The Berlin Wall has just been constructed when Donovan begins his negotiations, and we are often reminded the divided city/country is a grim and violent place.
The gracefully shifting tone takes us smoothly through this completely entertaining and astonishing story. Donovan’s commitment to his mission is beyond admirable, and every scene, no matter how free of action, overflows with enthralling guile. It’s the kind of movie, like A Man For All Seasons, which should inspire its audience in the most important way. Rather than focusing on our own personal gain, we should all be learning, and growing wiser, and giving those gifts back to the world in an effort to make it a better place.
All of that being said, I wish I could say this is a perfect movie. Although moving and uplifting without much schmaltz, this is very much a mainstream film, and it often feels overwritten. So many lines brim with subtext, but just as you are having a thought about the meaning behind the words, the screenplay takes your thought and dumps it right in the dialogue. It feels like the script taking you firmly by the hand and saying, “this way”, and begins leading you down the path you were already on. It’s irritating, and more importantly, it takes you out this world you were so enjoying.
For all the film lacks in subtlety, it gains in humility, however. Bridge Of Spies has no misgivings about just what might or might not have been accomplished in this event. Without saying too much, the final moments remind Donovan, and us, this is only one small struggle in an insurmountably large battle humanity fights to save itself from its own oppression. Riding on the commuter rail back in Brooklyn, he sees a gang of neighborhood kids storming a fence, reminiscent of an earlier scene at The Berlin Wall. In a wider shot, the full train is carrying only a single non-Caucasian person. This African American woman isn’t exactly centered in the frame, but the image is composed in such a way that she should be easily noticed. It all calls attention to those arbitrary divisions we have placed between each other, then, and now, but hopefully not forever, if we could all be a bit more like the film’s hero.
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THE ARCHIVIST XXX: Halloween Round 4: Castle VS. Hammer
by Ryan Lewellen
The Archivist
Welcome to the Archive. Following the infamous “Format Wars” (R.I.P. VHS), a multitude of films found themselves in danger of being forgotten forever due to their admittedly niche appeal. Thankfully, Warner Bros. established the Archive Collection, a Disc On Demand & Streaming service devoted to some of the more idiosyncratic pieces of cinema ever made. Being big fans of the label, we here at Cinapse thought it prudent to establish a column devoted to these unusual gems. Thus “The Archivist” was born — a biweekly look at some of the best, boldest and most batshit motion pictures the Shield has to offer. Some of these will be recent additions to the collection, while others will be titles that have been available for awhile. With over 1,500 pictures procurable on Warner Archive (and more being added every month), there’s no possible way we’ll get to all of them. But trust me when we say we’re sure going to try.
MWAHAHAHAHA! It’s almost Halloween, Archivateers, and we’re down to our second-to-last October installment! This week, we’re pitting two famous productions houses of classic horror against each other in one freaky double feature. I am excited to tell you The Warner Archives is home to gimmick-master, William Castle’s first foray into interactive exhibition. The label also delivers an impressive collection of Hammer Studio’s sexy suspense thrillers, and this week’s films’ slow-burning mind games play beautifully together.
In 1958, William Castle, who was already a successful director, began producing his own films, and when it came time to distribute Macabre, he concocted an hilariously creepy idea. With the purchase of admission, each audience member was given a $1,000 certificate of life insurance against death by fright! The goofball producer/director even appeared in person at several theaters, either with medical personnel, or emerging from a coffin to introduce his movie. These inventive efforts proved more than worthwhile, as the film grossed over five million dollars against an estimated budget around ninety thousand, though production cost reports are conflicting.
The film itself, though cheap, poorly written, and mostly poorly acted, is somehow a compelling watch, regardless. We are thrown into a conflict between a disgraced small town physician/lothario and several locals. After making a number of enemies by simultaneously sleeping around and losing beloved patients, the doctor comes home one evening to find his daughter has been kidnapped — buried alive on the night of his sister-in-law’s funeral. Who can he trust when the whole town, including the sheriff, has turned against him? The soap opera premise is far more complex and whacky than what I have summated here, but I don’t want you to know too much going in, because adding this to your October viewing schedule is highly recommended. Castle’a later films are sort of gentle and playful, but Macabre ruthlessly earns its title. You might have to laugh or roll your eyes at a few moments of poor filmmaking, but the eerie film revels in some delightfully dark and disturbing places.
Across the pond, over a decade later, Hammer had already cemented its own brand of horror, and Alan Gibson’s film Crescendo is true to that form. It follows a graduate student (Stefani Powers — The Girl From U.N.C.L.E.) who travels to France to research the late composer, Henry Ryman. At his former home, she falls victim to the manipulation and seduction of his widow (the subtle and restrained Margaretta Scott), and his crippled son (James Olson — Commando). Olson’s character is haunted by dreams of a homicidal doppelganger, who might be more than just a subconscious creation.
The movie mostly works, as it creates a fascinating mystery and tension surrounding the creepy mother/son relationship, but there is also a completely unconvincing romance between Powers and Olson. Powers’ character is lovely and charming and intriguing, but Olson, though fairly handsome, is awfully creepy. She falls for him anyway, and things get complicated and ultra-weird when the maid gets a little jealous of their flirtations. Overall, it’s a cool little film, and if you’re looking for atmosphere over blood, this sordid tale would certainly hit the spot.
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Forget ‘Back To The Future Day’ — 10 Other Bold Cinematic Futures, Now in The Past
By now you may be sick of hearing that today is being hailed as “Back To The Future Day” — the future date to which Marty McFly traveled in Back To The Future Part II. A vision of the future in which Marty encounters hoverboards, Jaws 19, and his own failure in life.
In honor of this date, and instead of writing about Back To The Future, here’s our look at some other cinematic futures which now lie in our contemporary past.
Destroy All Monsters (1968/1999)
This kaiju monster battle royale features an all-star “cast” including Godzilla, Minilla, Mothra, Rodan, King Ghidorah, and other Toho creations. Viewers may not even be aware that it takes place at the tail end of the 20th century, but if we have to accept a horrible fate, “giant dinosaur apocalypse” is the one I want. Interestingly, this film’s time setting has now been revisited by contemporary films like Godzilla 2000.
TimeCop (1994/2004)
We haven’t invented time travel (that I know of), so there hasn’t been much need for TimeCops like JCVD to help police it. But it could be argued that TimeCop correctly predicted the computerized gonzofication of pornography.
2001: A Space Odyssey (1968/2001)
and 2010 (1984/2010)History’s first spacewalk took place in 1965. The original moon landing followed in 1969. In 1968, Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey (based on the novel by Arthur C. Clarke) imagined a future in which lunar travel is treated as somewhat ordinary and mankind has delved far into the solar system. While our real life space probes have made significant progress (Voyager 1 has exited our solar system and entered interstellar space), the extent of human travel is not as exciting and hasn’t changed since 1970 when the crew of Apollo 13 passed the far side of the moon.
We do have pretty sweet phone and video-conferencing technology, though.
The Ultimate Warrior (1975/2012)
Admittedly, I haven’t seen this movie and don’t know much about, but Cinapse Editor-in-Chief Ed Travis loved this 2012-set Yul Brynner post-apocalyptic film so much that he covered it for The Action/Adventure Section. Check out his review because it sounds incredible.
Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991/1995)
There was only a 4-year spread between Terminator 2 and its vision of John Connor’s future encounter with two competing cyborgs, but the real threat was an apocalypse event called Judgment Day, which the film placed in 1997. That threat was averted, but it was later revealed in Terminator 3: Rise Of The Machines that Judgment Day was inevitable, and had only been postponed.
Double Dragon (1994/2007)
Despite its humble video game origin, Double Dragon is a post-apocalyptic adventure film with a staggering amount of world-building. Editor-in-Chief Ed Travis introduced me to this little-known and amazingly bonkers films, and we are both big fans. My review.
Conquest of Planet Of The Apes (1972/1991)
and Battle For The Planet Of The Apes (1973/2004)For the uninitiated, these films are sequels, not prequels, to the original Planet Of The Apes which is set in the distant future. These films take place in an alternate future in which a group of Apes from the original timeline have returned to contemporary times, thus establishing a new Apes timeline. Presumably, the current Apes prequel franchise is the “original” timeline in this mix.
In Conquest, Apes are rounded up and mistreated by fearful humans, causing them to revolt. Battle takes us further into this timeline when humans and apes are for the most part at war, but some still try to coexist. We have previously covered Battle for Two Cents.
Death Race 2000 (1975/2000)
Our society may not engage in murder-races in which celebrity competitors accrue points for killing innocent bystanders and each other, but the real prophecy of Death Race 2000 was its analysis of contemporary society, slyly condemning our bloodlust while also gleefully engaging it. Also under the microscope: corrupt government, celebrity worship, extreme patriotism, and shock entertainment. Check out our Two Cents on this exploitation classic.
Escape From New York (1981/1997)
and Escape From L.A. (1996/2013)It’s 1997 and Manhattan Island is a giant penal colony with no rules. That’s the backdrop for Escape From New York, in which Kurt Russell’s Snake Plissken must descend into the hell of New York to rescue the kidnapped US President. New York has actually progressed in the opposite direction of this futuristic action classic by significantly cleaning up its gritty urban decay, but the most chilling aspect of Escape is its terrorist-hijacking incident which crashes an airplane (in this case, Air Force One) in the middle of Manhattan. This event was eerily echoed in some respects by 9–11.
The 1996 sequel Escape From L.A. isn’t nearly as well regarded, but climate scientists do agree with the film’s assessment that California’s coastline is in danger of erosion.
1984 (1956)
George Orwell’s dystopian novel about an authoritarian/totalitarian future introduced the term “Big Brother”, among many others, to our cultural lexicon. The novel was published in 1949 and a film adaptation followed in 1956. 1984 set the template for modern dystopian fiction including some of the films on this list which could be described as Orwellian.
These are just a select few of many such instances of films whose future dates have now passed. This has always been a particular interest of mine and I maintain a list of them on Letterboxd with some additional notes. Check it out and let me know of any I may be missing!
A/V Out.
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THE ARCHIVIST XXIX: Halloween Round 3 — Frankenstein VS. Frankenstein
by Ryan Lewellen
The Archivist
Welcome to the Archive. Following the infamous “Format Wars” (R.I.P. VHS), a multitude of films found themselves in danger of being forgotten forever due to their admittedly niche appeal. Thankfully, Warner Bros. established the Archive Collection, a Disc On Demand & Streaming service devoted to some of the more idiosyncratic pieces of cinema ever made. Being big fans of the label, we here at Cinapse thought it prudent to establish a column devoted to these unusual gems. Thus “The Archivist” was born — a biweekly look at some of the best, boldest and most batshit motion pictures the Shield has to offer. Some of these will be recent additions to the collection, while others will be titles that have been available for awhile. With over 1,500 pictures procurable on Warner Archive (and more being added every month), there’s no possible way we’ll get to all of them. But trust me when we say we’re sure going to try.
It’s that time again, folks! Welcome back to The Archivist, where you can get all your rarely seen Halloween jollies out for the rest of October. This week, 90s TNT and Hammer Studios bring us two unfamiliar retellings of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. Both depart wildly from the classic novel, but are also clever and unique entertainments in their own right… to varying degrees of success. I can guarantee you, however, these films are unlike any Frankenstein you’ve ever seen.
FRANKENSTEIN (1992)
There is something about old, forgotten TV movies that make one smile… and laugh uncontrollably. Irish actor/human ham sandwich, Patrick Bergin takes the role of Dr. Victor Frankenstein, opposite Randy Quaid as The Monster. The story picks up with boatloads of low budget charm as the two of them chase each other on dog sleds through a styrofoam Arctic Circle. That charm quickly melts into low budget absurdity as the movie loses its grasp on tone and taste. Patrick Bergin is so consistently over-the-top, one has to wonder if he was directing his own scenes… on cocaine. He can barely keep his eyes inside his skull. Bulging to emphasize every other word in every line of dialogue, his ridiculous facial expressions distract from the film’s humble creativity.
When Bergin isn’t clawing at the wallpaper and bouncing off the walls, we are treated to some delightfully weird pseudoscience in Frankenstein’s lab. For whatever reason, the doctor’s experiments include growing a cat’s head at the front of a snake’s tail, some other nightmare rabbit, which must have once been a bunny and a rabid porcupine, separately, and a few other puppet-animated horrors. To add to the filmmakers’ bizarre reinvention of the tale, for whatever reason, they found it necessary to make significant adjustments to the already implausible science dreamt up by Mary Shelley. Electromagnetism and the chemical elements which make up all biological life are combined to essentially clone Patrick Bergin’s Frankenstein, and Randy Quaid, sporting thick rubber prosthetic veins, is apparently his warped doppelganger. They also have a psychic link for whatever reason, and despite that added element, the story remains largely the same. All this weirdness, combined with some really poor editing and audio work, make for one hell of a goofy film. If only it weren’t two-damn-hours-long, I would recommend it to anyone. Sadly, I can only endorse it for the hardcore Franke-nerds.
Though, it does also feature a wonderfully emotional performance from the guy who played The Merovingian in The Matrix (sequels) spouting some poetic rage-filled dialogue because he is a poet and that is how poets talk.
FRANKENSTEIN AND THE MONSTER FROM HELL (1974)
However, I can whole-heartedly vouch for 1974’s Frankenstein And The Monster From Hell. Another strange re-working of the over-adapted material, this Hammer Film picks up with The Bad Doctor long after he apparently survived his first experiment in reanimation. A reclusive young surgeon, Simon Helder (Shane Briant), has been studying Frankenstein’s work when he is caught and incarcerated in a loony bin. It just so happens the lunatics are literally running the asylum, however, as Frankenstein (Peter Cushing) himself has blackmailed the perverted director, and has continued his monstrous work there in secret. Frankenstein pardons Helder, and the two begin work on another patchwork man who might be science’s greatest success, and humanity’s most terrifying disaster.
David Prowse, John Stratton and Hammer regular, Madeline Smith, round out the capable and intense cast of actors playing beautifully complex characters. At first, young Helder seems nothing short of a sociopath, but even he finds himself drawing a line, as his stately mentor’s practice grows more sadistic. Smith plays a mute laboratory assistant; her face almost always fixed in a kind of longing sweet sadness, is marvelously creepy and magnetic. She carries such a mystery about her, one that is eventually revealed as the briskly paced film moves along. Peter Cushing is, of course, as great as ever playing the unfulfilled and retrained mad scientist. The film may not end with a feeling of completeness, especially considering it was the studio’s final Frankenstein film, but the themes it explores, and the performances it captures make for a fascinating and haunting watch you should add to your October viewing schedule.
Just when you thought you had seen all the Frankensteins you need to see, here come a couple more you should give a shot… if for completely different reasons.
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THE ARCHIVIST XXVIII: Halloween Round 2 — Horny Robots Vs. Killer Antiques
by Ryan Lewellen
The Archivist
Welcome to the Archive. Following the infamous “Format Wars” (R.I.P. VHS), a multitude of films found themselves in danger of being forgotten forever due to their admittedly niche appeal. Thankfully, Warner Bros. established the Archive Collection, a Disc On Demand & Streaming service devoted to some of the more idiosyncratic pieces of cinema ever made. Being big fans of the label, we here at Cinapse thought it prudent to establish a column devoted to these unusual gems. Thus “The Archivist” was born — a biweekly look at some of the best, boldest and most batshit motion pictures the Shield has to offer. Some of these will be recent additions to the collection, while others will be titles that have been available for awhile. With over 1,500 pictures procurable on Warner Archive (and more being added every month), there’s no possible way we’ll get to all of them. But trust me when we say we’re sure going to try.
Congratulations everybody! It’s almost October! That means two things: I am getting really itchy trying not to dip into my stockpile of pumpkin ales, and this issue of The Archivist will be buried by the far more interesting coverage of Fantastic Fest! If you should, by some miracle, find yourself reading this (thank you!), do start poking around the site for reviews of the soon-to-be released genre films Ed, Jon, and others are seeing this week at the Austin, TX festival, once you have finished reading me! This week, it’s my second adventure in specially selected Archivist horror, which yields two discoveries of Brits in terror! A host of Hammer Studios regulars appear in From Beyond The Grave, and Julie Christie is cybernetically assaulted in Demon Seed!
FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE (1974)
Peter Cushing is the owner and sole purveyor of Temptations Limited, a creepy antique shop. Four troubled souls enter the store, most of them cheating Cushing’s character out out of some capital, and each of them ending up cursed by their swindled trinkets. David Warner becomes the murderous slave of a mirror-bound spirit. Cowardly Ian Bannen steals a coveted military honor, and is targeted by Donald Pleasance and his [real life] daughter, Angela Pleasance. Ian Carmichael unleashes an “elemental” (a kind of spiritual goblin) from an ancient snuff box, and must be saved by the medium, Margaret Leighton. Lastly, but not at all least…ly, Ian Ogilvy has installed a creepy carved door into his home office, only to discover it was created by a wicked old statesman for the purpose of harvesting souls through space and time.
If that last premise doesn’t catch your interest, I wouldn’t bother searching this one out. That is certainly the coolest of the bunch, but the whole anthology offers a respectable sum of creepy pleasures. Unfortunately, the film is back-loaded with the good stuff, so one must muscle-through the first two lackluster vignettes, neither of which is all-together worthless. If you dig anthologies, Beyond is absolutely worth your time if only for Margaret Leighton’s hilarious performance as Madame Orloff battling the invisible elemental, and for the eerie visuals rendered by the final story. Good, old school fun, and chills all-around.
DEMON SEED (1977)
Julie Christie, recently separated from her husband, a brilliant scientist played by Fritz Weaver, who is experimenting with artificial intelligence, finds herself trapped at home with Weaver’s most advanced computer mind, Proteus. Easily insinuating himself into her mansion’s automated security system, he attempts to brainwash Christie’s character and coax her into… mating with him. Christie must find a means of escape, or submit to the bizarre act of future-love and create the next level of human life.
There are some movies which transcend relevance based on qualitative judgment. Demon Seed (based on the Dean Koontz novel) cannot be recommended, or even reviewed, based on terms of “good” or “bad”, and therefore, any person with functional sets of eyes and ears must witness it. Its very existence is the entire rationale for its pertinence. This movie happened, so it deserves an audience. Sure, the performances are good, the effects and design are insanely cool (and dated… especially considering this premiered the same year as Star Wars), and the story basically works, but it is so bizarre, and creepy, and kind of startlingly funny, that I can’t believe it hasn’t achieved cult classic status.
So, see it so it can go down in history.
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
