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Spinema — Issue 3: JOHN CARPENTER’S LOST THEMES II — Who’s ready for III?
by Ryan Lewellen
Lend an ear to SPINEMA: a column exploring all movie music, music related to movies, and movies related to music. Be they film scores on vinyl, documentaries on legendary musicians, or albums of original songs by horror directors, all shall be reviewed here. Batten down your headphones, because shit’s about to sound cinematic.
In February of last year, forsaken John Carpenter fans were elated by the erstwhile director’s embrace of a second career: John Carpenter, recording artist. This new enterprise has paid off more substantially than either creator or fan could have expected, and in a surprisingly brief time, the album, Lost Themes, has produced two music videos (high-pitched squeal), an international tour (higher-pitched squeal), and a follow-up record (glass-shattering screech). With LOST THEMES II, enthusiasts of the sexagenarian’s signature sound could hardly have received a finer sophomore effort.
The title suggests this record is a sequel, and the suggestion fits. In nearly every way, this second release is a mirrored expansion of its predecessor’s core. Even the design of its sleeve is an elegant inversion of the original’s spooky simplicity, but like the music, it builds on this foundation, bringing bold new ideas to this familiar landscape. II is still classically Carpenter, but the arrangements and tones of synthesizers and electric instruments have grown in satiating complexity. Assigning the word “minimal” (which we did in the past so predominantly) sounds like a misnomer in this new world of melodies and counter melodies, intricate rhythmic elements, and heterogeneous sound experiments rich in signal processing. Again, these are still the sounds and moods we expect and desire from the horror master, but this lengthier album of original songs (11 tracks!) is a cut above anything he has produced before.
The opening tune, Distant Dream, acting as a sonic flagship (its ultra-cool live performance music video is embedded below), explores most of what to expect from the succeeding tracks. Like a siren, the oscillating whir of heavily distorted guitar notes (or keyboard notes) affected by wah (or something…often hard to tell) signal the triumphant arrival of more themes found. After that brief announcement, a reliably steady kick pounds out a 4/4 beat, and a picked bass guitar creates a chugging rhythm in a choral partnership with the chubby tones of a synthesizer. In comes a lead synth voice, holding lofty notes over the percussive elements to create a simple melody, and we recognize (we behold) the signature Carpenter sound. Then, we are greeted by what seems to be a new trademark of the songwriter.
On multiple occasions, these records meet a point I have started calling The Penultimate Pause-And-Shift. In Distant, and most notably, White Pulse, the song is moving along industriously, only to reach a sudden sense of finality, then wildly turning left into something palpably different, but entirely cohesive. It’s a always a fun and unexpected diversion (especially upon first listen), and it shrouds otherwise simple structures in the appearance of complexity. Distant Dream, for instance, could be reduced to: intro, chorus, intro, bridge, chorus, but the second time we hear those notes from the prologue, they have been mutated into something proggy, explosive and ostensibly unfamiliar.
There are so many tracks I would love to highlight, such as the gentle and haunting melodies of Windy Death and Hofner Dawn (which surprisingly features decidedly Latin-inspired guitar work), or the cinematic evocations of Utopian Facade. Or, I could spend some time talking about the cleverness of Dark Blues, which if only played syncopated, would be unmistakable as a true blues number, but is played straight, therefore making it odd and creepy. Instead, before I go on too long (as if I haven’t, already), I need to mention Carpenter’s homage to another legend of horror.
BELA LUGOSI makes me giddy every time I hear it. In a decaying tone, a lead synth melody creeps over an apreggiated chord progression. At first, the song slinks toward you, calling up the actor’s face, obscured by a cape, but the melody and the rhythm progress into a multitude of moods. In only 3:23, the song practically captures its namesake’s entire career, in a tune which is equal parts haunting, mysterious, respectful, and loving (so, some might argue it skips the Ed Wood years, but still…). Just when you think you have a grasp on this song, a playfully fleeting toy piano dances in like a child’s curious ghost. Its beauty makes me ache. The late icon couldn’t have dreamt of a more wonderful tribute.
John Carpenter has outdone himself with Lost Themes II. His instincts as a composer have never been more resonant, but to really appreciate this material, you have to develop a taste for the textures of synthetic instrumentation. Carpenter gives you quite the sonic smorgasbord here to study and devour. As I mentioned in my review of his first album, this just isn’t everyone’s flavor, but he could hardly have resurfaced at a better time than at the height of electro-pop’s appreciation. Who knows, maybe he will tour with Chvrches?
THE PACKAGE (NERDY VINYL STUFF)
The staff hasn’t changed a bit since the first volume of tunes hit the streets. Sacred Bones Records has distributed a very cool sleeve-and-insert, a product of the design of Jaw Shaw, and photography of Kyle Cassidy. Together, they have created a package which is distinctly in line with Carpenter’s films and music, and will absolutely make for a prized possession in any record collection. No write-up on the insert this time, but hey…
There is something about vinyl and synth. Listening to this album on that beautiful black material, through headphones (BTW… Go Sennheisser for a spectacular pair of $25 phones), really allows this music to bloom. For those who can’t tell, don’t care, think this brand of audiophelia is bullshit, or just want to have a portable version, the staff at Sacred Bones have been kind enough to include an mp3 download card, allowing for the entire album, plus the very cool Real Xeno as a bonus track, to be played on any digital listening device.
It’s great. Go to a record store and buy it, or purchase it from the label online to receive the limited white/red swirl disc.
NERDY NERDY STUFF
I couldn’t help but notice the first record’s songs were all given single-word titles and the second record’s songs were all given double-word titles.
I think that is really cool… because I am really not.
Get it at Amazon:
John Carpenter — Lost Themes II — [Vinyl LP + MP3] | [CD + MP3] | [MP3 (Digital Only)]Red Swirl Vinyl LP (Limited Edition of 1000) available exclusively at Sacred Bones Records or Live Shows
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THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE PART 2: Scream Factory Blu-Ray Review With Screen Comparisons
The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Part 2 triumphantly returned to Blu-ray this week in a new jam-packed edition from Scream Factory.
This article contains several comparisons which contrast the older MGM Blu-ray transfer with the new Scream Factory restoration. The frames aren’t necessarily exact matches, but should give a solid indication of the visual differences.
Top: Old MGM // Bottom: New Scream Factory The Texas Chain Saw Massacre enjoys a revered spot at the top of horrordom, frequently referenced (with equal attention to The Exorcist) as the “greatest” or “scariest” horror classic of all time. Relentlessly moody, grimy, and, well, relentless, it’s still the epitome of gut-wrenching terror filmmaking that’s more interested in the threat of violence than its gory execution. We covered it on Two Cents for its 40th Anniversary in 2014 and the praise was both vigorous and unanimous, as it tends to be everywhere.
It would be more than a decade before the influential and revered classic would spawn a sequel, perhaps intimidated by accolades, increasingly iconic status, and raw, unnerving power that the first film had achieved. When The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Part 2 finally came together with original director Tobe Hooper on board, it did so very quickly, and it was as a whole ‘nother thing. A carnival of carnage. A hard left-turn sequel. Full of eye-popping color, dark but silly humor, a surprising amount of action including a chainsaw duel, and buckets of gore. In short, it was everything the original was not. The Two Cents gang covered this one as well, and surprisingly gave an overwhelmingly favorable response.
Top: Old MGM // Bottom: New Scream Factory The Sawyer family, the murderous cannibals from the original film, return for the sequel, having fled their rural home for the big city where they continue their murderous ways, only now they operate an award-winning barbecue food truck. They also have a new (to the audience) member — the incredibly goofy, constantly-quipping Chop Top (Bill Moseley), a Vietnam vet who was absent from the events of first film. He’s the twin brother of Nubbins (the original’s hitchhiker), and sports a namesake steel plate in his head, a souvenir from ‘Nam. Chop Top is the clearest example of how radically different this sequel’s tone is.
“Lefty” Enright (Dennis Hopper), a former lawman with a connection to the first film, seeks the Sawyers, still tracking them vigilante-style to bring them to justice. He’s not entirely all there himself, as evidenced by his obsession, best demonstrated in a surreal scene in which he goes shopping for new chainsaws, settling on a monster-sized one and two smaller ones to dual-wield.
His search finally gets a new lead when Leatherface and Chop Top make the mistake of killing a pair of joy-riding nitwits while they were prank-calling a radio station. The buzzing chainsaw murders being recorded by the on-air DJ, a spunky gal who goes by the handle Stretch (Caroline Williams).
Top: Old MGM // Bottom: New Scream Factory The unlikely duo of Lefty and Stretch discover the Sawyer’s hideout, a sprawling subterranean network of tunnels beneath an abandoned theme park, and then things get weird. Well, weirder. Leatherface gets some interesting character development, and we get to witness an incredible chainsaw battle between him and Dennis Hopper. Even so, it’s the beleaguered Stretch who gets the last word — and parting shot — in the film’s deranged climax.
Top: Old MGM // Bottom: New Scream Factory As a result of its insane stylistic choices, the film proved to be controversial. Many fans were baffled and disappointed at the changes, yet still others fell for its uniquely bizarre charms. So deep and lasting was the impact that every follow-up in the franchise has repeatedly tried to retcon, reboot, or remake the story — most recently with Texas Chainsaw 3D which sought to position itself as the “true” sequel to the original. The franchise has mutinied against its own creator, and it’s arguably because of this movie.
But if you can roll with the changes Gremlins 2-style, this is a very rewarding and fun movie that doesn’t take itself seriously and took a chance on making something genuinely, radically different in a genre that likes to keep making more of the same.
The Package
The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Part 2 has been released on Blu-ray before, by MGM. As extras go it was no slouch, packing the feature-length documentary It Runs In The Family, a commentary, deleted scenes, and other goodies, but fans lamented the noisiness and color timing of the transfer, as well as the egregious Saw-inspired cover artwork that tried to make it look like a contemporary me-too torture porn instead of a bizarro horror classic (see also: the Twilightization of Near Dark).
This new edition from Scream Factory has more features than you can shake three chainsaws at. It cannibalizes all the content from the MGM disc — including that DP-approved transfer, for those who prefer it, plus a ton of new interview features produced by Red Shirt Pictures, and other goodies.
It also sports incredible new cover art, plus the Breakfast Club parody poster design on the reverse. My copy came with a slipcover with the new art as well. Scream Factory often has great new art for their releases, but I think this is quite possibly the best one they’ve done. It’s incredible.
The new edition not only adds a ton of bonus features, but improves upon most of the features which were on the earlier MGM disc. The It Runs In The Family documentary, theatrical trailer, and alternate and deleted scenes are now framed in deinterlaced HD (upscaled where applicable) rather than SD with combing. Additionally, the horizontally stretched aspect ratios on the deleted and alternate scenes have been corrected. Understand that these are the kinds of fixes that are almost universally ignored with new editions, and Scream Factory deserves heaps of praise for this level of effort.
Special Features and Extras — Disc 1
It Runs In The Family Extended Outtakes (29:37)
2006 interview segments with L.M. Kit Carson and Lou Perryman, both now deceased, which didn’t make it into the documentary.Still Galleries
Black and White (5:00), Behind The Scenes (10:35), Personal Collection of Jason Guy (2:00), Color Stills (2:00), Posters and Lobby Cards (4:15), and Special Effects Gallery (2:15)Theatrical Trailer (2:04)
US and Japanese 60-second trailers.TV Spots (3:29)
Six 30-second spots and a 15-second Japanese spot.Behind The Scenes Footage Compilation (43:35)
Alternate Opening Credit Sequence (1:56) and Deleted Scenes (10:57)
These carryover features have been improved; upscaled, decombed, and set to the correct aspect ratio.Special Features and Extras — Disc 2
The interview-based features on the second disc are newly produced for this edition by Scream Factory and Red Shirt Pictures.
The Movie — Original HD Master Supervised by Director of Photography Richard Kooris
Scream Factory has generously included the original transfer from the previous Blu-ray release in addition to their new scan. Personally, I’ve never seen the movie theatrically (in fact I’ve only seen it on the Blu-ray), so I didn’t have a strong opinion on the older transfer, but it’s definitely noisier, darker, and higher-contrast, and the colors run hotter.Here are a few more comparisons between the older MGM transfer (left) and the new restoration (right).
Top: Old MGM // Bottom: New Scream Factory 
Top: Old MGM // Bottom: New Scream Factory 
Top: Old MGM // Bottom: New Scream Factory Should this new edition replace your old disc? Absolutely, for all practical intents and purposes, yes. However, the older transfer as included here does appear to be a bit compressed in the interest of jam-packing the disc as full as possible. A direct comparison of the video files (sans audio) shows a drop of about 24% in filesize. Visually, I can’t tell the difference. But technically, if you prefer the older DP-approved transfer, the previous disc has a slightly better version of it.
House Of Pain (42:32)
With make-up effects artists Bart Mixon, Gabe Bartalos, Gino Crognal, and John VulichYuppie Meat (18:59)
With actors Chris Douridas and John VulichCutting Moments (17:19)
With Editor Alain JakubowiczBehind The Mask (13:48)
With stunt man and Leatherface performer Bob ElmoreHorror’s Hallowed Grounds (24:33)
Episode of a very cool series which seeks out locations from horror movies. A similar episode showed up on Scream Factory’s new Village Of The Damned disc, so hopefully this is indicative of a new trend on their releases.It Runs In The Family (81:41)
Feature-length 2006 documentary. This feature was on the earlier Blu-ray release, but this is a higher-quality version of it.Scream Factory’s new edition of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Part 2 is a phenomenal package. For fans, it’s a must-own and worth the double dip thanks to a new, more natural transfer and a staggering amount of bonus features — plus everything that was on the earlier MGM release.
A/V Out.
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VINCENT PRICE COLLECTION III: Taking Home A Legend
by Ryan Lewellen
Scream Factory has been killing it on the home video front ever since the company was founded. From the underappreciated, or nearly forgotten, like The Phantom Of The Paradise, to the all-time greats and cult classics like Army Of Darkness, the label has immortalized an astonishing array of sci-fi and horror titles in peak-quality. That focus on the legendary genre filmmaking of the past, however, hasn’t compromised their view of the present cinematic landscape. Every year, Scream Factory distributes one or two of the most buzz-worthy works from a modern director, making it one of the most valuable home-video companies for fans of genre filmmaking.
For this fan, the label shows much of its worth in releasing as many Vincent Price movies as possible. I have had the honor of covering several here at Cinapse, and five more, flanked by unprecedented special features, have materialized in the form of Vincent Price Collection III. I reviewed II a couple years back, and though it and its predecessor lacked such favorites as The Tingler and House Of Wax, both collections offered great B features and classic performances from the late star. With VPCIII, I still find this series lacking. Again, those specific titles are missing (and that may be out of Scream Factory’s hands), and sadly, much of the work they did include is not on par with Price’s better-known films. Thankfully, the supplements included make this collection what it ultimately is: a must-own for Vincent Price fans.
MASTER OF THE WORLD
Richard Matheson was lucky enough to spend most of his earlier career as a screenwriter working with Vincent Price. His scripts were all over the Roger Corman Poe Cycle (as was Price’s face), and in 1961, AIP commissioned him to pen Master Of The World. A combination of two Jules Verne novels, the film was meant to hoist the studio into the world of high-budget epic cinema. The venture didn’t exactly pay off. It wasn’t a smash success at the box office, and the film was nothing more than mediocre. Between the cheap effects, clumsy dialogue, and predictable story, there is practically only one element left to love: Vincent Price. As Robur, the actor is in top form (possibly his best performance in this collection), and although he is hardly playing a character more distinctive than “Captain Nemo of the sky”, he brings his classic magnetism to the tyrant. Charles Bronson is strangely miscast as an American government agent. He plays the John Strock with so much leather-faced stoicism (you know… like Bronson), it almost feels like he is in some other movie, separate from the slight B-hammy-ness of his co-stars. Little more than a remake of 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea, this one is hard to recommend, and that’s coming from a guy who is a total sucker for this kind of thing. Imagine a Ray Harryhausen picture without the fun script or naturalistic effects of Dynamation.
TOWER OF LONDON
With this 1962 work of historical fiction, Corman directed Price in a lively, gothic take on the rise and fall of Richard III. Admittedly, I don’t know much about the character as an historical figure, nor as a figment of Shakespeare’s famous imagination, but I was thoroughly intrigued by him as portrayed in Tower Of London. Richard is ruthlessly killing his way into a formidable reign, but for all the evil he commits, he is a man of too much conscience to maintain his rule, or sanity. Haunted cruelly by his every victim, they speak to him as negative voices in his head, highlighting his most painful anxieties. This is not a great film, but again, watching Price wildly vacillate from hateful and threatening to pathetically vulnerable is a delight. The hunchback king may appear more human through Price than ever before.
AN EVENING WITH EDGAR ALLEN POE
In 1970, a green TV director/producer landed the resume-builder of a lifetime. That inexperienced artist would go on to create V, and The Incredible Hulk, The Bionic Woman, and the television adaptation of Alien Nation. His name was Kenneth Johnson, and he had the extraordinary opportunity to direct Vincent Price in five performances of Poe short stories for a special TV broadcast. Among the most notable were The Telltale Heart and The Pit And The Pendulum, and watching the veteran master perform them is nothing short of astonishing. Some of the design is dated and hokey (television in the 70s), but I can’t understate the seminal importance of preserving something like this! I had no idea this ever happened, and although it has seen several home video releases, this ancient televised production could never have been rendered so sharply or powerfully than on Scream Factory’s next-best-thing-to-HD transfer.
DIARY OF A MADMAN
“The most terrifying motion picture ever created” may be the least-deserved promotional tagline in cinema history, as applied to 1963’s Diary Of A Madman. Is it just me, or do some director’s confuse suspense with… nothing happening in the screenplay? We still need incident. We still need character. We still need intrigue, and although the winsome flirtations between Price and his co-star, Nancy Kovack (as a gold-digging model) are fun at first, the film spends far too much time setting up the concept of its demonic villain. There is endless, dull conversation with the unseen Horla, who opens doors and gingerly knocks over knick-knacks like a neglected invisible housecat. Terrifying! We know he is coming to do wrong, but he takes so long to do it, that even severed heads buried in clay busts aren’t thrilling enough to save this boring film by the time they arrive.
CRY OF THE BANSHEE
The collection is concluded by a film, which in retrospect, I might have misjudged. In fact, I hated it. It’s a miserable viewing experience, and what with its taking place in misery of dark age brutality and torture, perhaps I should respect the effect. Witchcraft is on the paranoid mind of a corrupt magistrate (Price), and it seems more and more of his subjects are practicing. He and his cronies are on a merciless assault, but the supposed devil-worshipers might have conjured a demonic champion. This one is a tough watch, dominated by high-pitched screams and non-consensual bodice ripping; Banshee plays weirdly erotic in its shoddy construction. There could have been something interesting here, but it seems studio interference made a mess of things. Both the director’s and theatrical cuts are included here, but what is left of Gordon Hessler’s vision is rather cold and haphazard. At least you are treated to Vincent Price spitting lines like, “Get out of here you gypsy vermin!”.
THE PACKAGE
These films are all presented in superb HD fashion. As I mentioned earlier, even the standard definition TV program looks considerably crisp. Every feature film is a brand new transfer, and they all look stunning.
There are far too many badass supplements for me to mention here, so here is an abridged version featuring the most nerdy delights:
RICHARD MATHESON STORYTELLER: 72 minutes in-depth interview with Matheson on his career and relationship with Vincent Price.
NEW TOWER OF LONDON COMMENTARY WITH ROGER CORMAN
TWO EPISODES OF SCIENCE FICTION THEATRE: each starring Vincent Price in a fascinating and humorously dated TV show that applied real science to fictional stories.
3 NEW AUDIO COMMENTARIES WITH FILM HISTORIAN STEVE HABERMAN
NEW INTERVIEW WITH KENNETH JOHNSON: a wonderful and lengthy interview with a long-time friend of Price.
A DEVILISH TALE OF POE: interview with Banshee director Gordon Hessler.
ENDLESS PROMOTIONAL/BEHIND THE SCENES STILLS
One more beef of note, however… no essay, no interview, no write-up of any kind in the included booklet. SHAME! DORK SHAME!
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Vincent Price Collection III — [Blu-ray] -
TMNT HALF-SHELL HEROES: BLAST TO THE PAST — DVD Review
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Half-Shell Heroes: Blast To The Past released on DVD (no Blu-ray) on March 15.
Half-Shell Heroes is a sub-brand of Nickelodeon’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles property aimed at younger fans. So far it’s mainly been applied to action figures and toys, but the TV Special Blast To The Past marks the first time that Half-Shell Heroes makes its jump to the screen.
Blast To The Past is a special which now comes to DVD after debuting online and airing on TV. It’s not exactly a movie, but really more of a double-length episode. While advertised as a one-hour special, that’s based on broadcast time. Without commercials, it clocks in at just over 44 minutes.
Time travel has always been a staple of the Turtles’ adventures, even in the original comics. Blast To The Past finds the Turtles — plus stowaways Rocksteady and Bebop — transported back to the Cretaceous period, where they have to contend not only with their sneaky foes and a world full of carnivorous dinosaurs, but with a surprise appearance by the Triceratons (dinosaur-like aliens of TMNT lore) as well.
I would imagine that for most readers checking out this review, the primary question of interest is the same one I had: The Half-Shell Heroes brand seems to be aimed at selling toys to children, so how does it fare for older fans?
Surprisingly well, actually.
To its credit, in attempting to broaden its audience, Blast To The Past for the most part doesn’t dumb down its writing or sacrifice quality. Instead, it alters the tone: brighter colors, less brawling, more fanciful adventure, and a much stronger emphasis on comedy than action; presented in classic “2-D” animation.
It’s quite a pleasure to see the Turtles return to traditional animation. While I generally enjoy the mainline Nick series, the CG animation and non-Turtle character designs are somewhat bland and plasticky. Not so with Blast To The Past, which has a look that’s highly stylized (with some anime-inspired techniques) and appealing. I really like the look of these designs.
While the “Half Shell” Turtles as depicted as pint-sized versions of themselves, this is an aesthetic choice rather than an indication of younger or earlier versions of the characters. The special plays out in current continuity of the Turtles’ mainline Nickelodeon series (thus allowing for the appearance of their villains, etc). The characters feel true to themselves, including being voiced by the same actors, and unlike a lot of kids’ programming, most of the jokes land.
Blast To The Past represents the first of an apparent series of Half-Shell Heroes, at least if its ending is any indication. In Army Of Darkness fashion, the gang overshoots their return to the present, landing in a dystopian future and introducing — complete with a reference to They Live — a surprising premise that has me looking forward to the next entry.
The Package
Blast To The Past comes in an Eco-DVD case. My review copy came with an embossed slipcover, though typical experience of these TMNT releases is that the inclusion of slipcovers is random and probably not a given. A sticker on the cover advertises a bonus Nick DVD. Mine came with a Jimmy Neutron: Confusion Fusion disc in a paper sleeve, though I would imagine this as a random insertion from overstocked titles.
Despite being a DVD, the picture quality looks pretty good, thanks to the bold animation style. While the screenshots show obvious compression artifacts and crush, these problems are not apparent in motion. The animation and colors look fluid and crisp.
Special Features and Extras
None. The disc features no bonus content or even audio or subtitle options.
As a TMNT fan I enjoyed Blast To The Past. Despite its appeal to a younger target audience, it doesn’t feel any more overtly childish than, say, an episode of DuckTales. The DVD is barebones, and with SD picture and no frills — and no Blu-ray option — provides little compelling reason to purchase a disc versus high-definition VOD (particularly since no digital copy is included). I’m usually a physical media guy, but in this case I would point those interested in buying to the Digital HD version (currently at $5, or about half the DVD’s price).
TURTLEMANIA! More on TMNT!
A Far Too Serious Sociological TMNT Think Piece
Ninja Rap: The Ninja Turtles’ Unlikely Hip-Hop Connection
Pick Of The Week: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (1990)
Turtle Power Documentary DVD Review
Turtle Power Director Interview with Randall Lobb
Turtles Forever: Crisis On Infinite… Turtles?A/V Out.
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TMNT Half-shell Heroes: Blast To The Past — [DVD] | [Instant] -
Pick Of The Week: THE CONVERSATION Is Coppola At His Most Cinematic
by Ryan Lewellen
In 1974, Francis Ford Coppola followed up the game-changing blockbuster that was The Godfather with one of his finest masterpieces… The Godfather Part II. However, it is the film which “lost” the Best Picture Oscar to Coppola’s own sequel which I find far more interesting. That same year, at the height of the 70s Paranoia Thriller, the hottest talent in Hollywood wrote, directed and produced Palme D’Or winner, The Conversation, a transnational remake of Antonioni’s Blow-Up. Gene Hackman brilliantly portrays surveillance master Harry Caul, a tragically solitary and paranoid fellow, whose current eavesdrop has him convinced he is leading two innocent people to their collective doom. The more he meticulously studies his cryptic recording, the more certain he is of its volatility.
The roster of Coppola’s wonderful picture reads like a retrospective of the era’s greatest young talents. Roles of every size and significance are filled by the likes of John Cazale (who was famously only cast in films nominated for Best Picture before he died), Cindy Williams, Harrison Ford, Robert Duvall and Terry Garr. Behind the camera, the film boasts Bill Butler as Director of Photography, Walter Murch as Editor, and David Shire contributed a terrific, lonely piano score. If you are unfamiliar with any of these artists, they each deserve your immediate Googling.
The resulting film is one of unforgettable emotional and intellectual depth. Subtle, unpredictable, and perfectly simple, it’s the kind character piece I so long to see more often: one primarily told through the formal elements than through dialogue or plot. The screenplay meanders, and rather than solving the recording’s mystery piece by piece, the story gives us clues to the mystery of Harry Caul through a patchwork of his disseminating interactions with friends, enemies, and his own environment.
Mr. Caul’s reclusive secrecy is more important than anything, and his quiet demeanor becomes almost psychotically anxious when too many questions are asked, or worse, too many answers are found. Yet, his notoriety in his field is a source of pride and fear in equal amounts. He’s an endlessly fascinating character, who begs your empathy without ever asking for it. With every restrained expression, you can see his longing for comfort and security trying to claw its way out. Even with his girlfriend (or call girl?), no personal details are divulged, and at confessional (we are occasionally given some scope of his Catholic faith), even the priest isn’t privy to Harry’s career. He drives away the few friends he has with his stalwart furtiveness, and he is driven further into confidentiality by the routine betrayal of his trust by every person who comes to know about the haunting conversation which has consumed him. Through that infidelity, we come to know what might have made him this way. I don’t mean to make this film sound too somber, however. This movie isn’t only about the gloom. Practically every other moment is charged with a natural intensity which drives the unconventional story forward.
Visually, the film reinforces the solitude created by the forlorn music and oblique script with thoughtful shooting. The widest shot is its first. In keeping with the film’s themes, it begins with raw information, and forces us to contextualize as it moves along. An extra-long zoom lens slowly and deliberately searches through San Francisco’s Union Square lunch hour crowd until it finds Harry Caul trying to shake the irritating mimic of a mime. This omnipotent voyeuristic perspective is the perfect opening to a film about surveillance, and it’s the most comfort allotted to the viewer for the remainder of the running time. From the first cut, especially when Harry is in the shot, no frame is able to breathe. Mirroring the protagonist’s life, the shots are all composed tightly around their subjects. Harry is always shown in little rectangles: just above his head, and just below his feet. He has so little freedom in the world he has created, and what freedom he has left is quickly being drained by the way the camera moves.
He often leaves the frame, only to be ominously recaptured by it after a beat, as though the camera were being operated autonomously, or perhaps, by someone not staunchly manning its controls. In other scenes, the camera repeats short scanning progressions from a fixed point or range of motion. These crafty movements fuel the tension of Harry’s insecurities and create a curious and unsettling effect. This man, driven to arming his apartment with an alarm system and triple-locked door by the nature of his own livelihood, isn’t so secure as he might think. Despite his best efforts, the watcher is being watched.
The movie comes to a satisfying conclusion, after horrifying climactic nightmare visions, brought on by Harry confronting the source of his suspicions. One particular scare, which I won’t fully detail here, is something completely universal, and private, bent by a sadistic twist so unnerving it makes my skin crawl every time I see it. It’s upsetting in a way many horror films fail to achieve, and The Conversation is merely a simple little psychological thriller. It’s a damn near perfect film, as rich in humanity as it is in cinematic art, and with a dark side just grim enough to remind you the world demands a certain level of security. In a way, it investigates how surveillance, at a personal level, is poised in a defensive position, but at a public level, it is on the attack. That is a fine line walked by the lonely Harry Caul, and when he reaches the end, there doesn’t seem to be much of a life left to protect.
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Spinema — Issue 2: MONDO’S LP Release Of JURASSIC WORLD Outdoes The Film
by Ryan Lewellen
Lend an ear to SPINEMA: a column exploring all movie music, music related to movies, and movies related to music. Be they film scores on vinyl, documentaries on legendary musicians, or albums of original songs by horror directors, all shall be reviewed here. Batten down your headphones, because shit’s about to sound cinematic.
This album was released by MONDO in October of 2015.
I… passionately disliked Jurassic World. A small handful of creative ideas couldn’t compensate for dull action, a lack of imagination, and some weirdly out-of-date characterization. I would have passed up the opportunity to make the film’s score my second official entry for this column, had it not been for the distinguished involvement of Michael Giacchino. You may not know his name, yet, but he is well on his way to following in the iconic footsteps of someone like John Williams. His bold and arresting music for Star Trek (2009), The Incredibles, and Up, have proven he’s not only following the world’s best-known composer of the cinema, but he is also prepared to fill the man’s shoes, as he did last year for director Colin Trevorrow’s lackluster blockbuster. With Jurassic World, Giacchino created music so wonderful, he has almost convinced me to see it again, just to see how it plays for the film. I was too busy falling asleep to notice the first time.
(The following Blah Blah Blah has been written under the assumption that you, the reader, have already seen the crummy picture and will be able to follow any vague references to its plot without the aid of a synopsis.)
Giacchino’s musical storytelling opens with, perhaps, a nod to Bernard Hermann’s work on Mysterious Island. The lonely French horn theme asks a question in an unfinished phrase, and although it bares a striking similarity to the music of that Ray Harryhausen classic, it almost certainly has more to do with Giacchino’s toying with this franchise’s familiar compositions. If you play the opening few notes of, Bury The Hatchling and Welcome To Jurassic World back-to-back, you will notice the former plays like a dark melodic antonym to the curious sweetness of the original Jurassic Park Theme. This is a new park, and although we have been here before, the mystery of what awaits us should be even more terrifying than the original. Unfortunately, it seems only this gifted composer was up to the challenge of bringing the fright, and not the film’s director.
Before we reach those pulse-pounding pieces, however, he seems to back away from the message sent by the earliest moments in the score, and again, he contrasts Williams’ melodies. After a brief revisit to the original 1993 film’s theme, we are given a new sweeping tune in its vein. His predecessor’s number captured the boldness of John Hammond’s unattainable dream, with the wild flourishes of instruments tittering in the upper registers, and in the vocal arrangements, a suggestion of the wonder of cheating the divine. With Giacchinno’s composition, As The Jurassic World Turns (the man obviously has a thing for wordplay), we are treated to a new dream, and a new park. The tone is gentler, as though Hammond’s dream has finally been tamed. That comfort doesn’t last long, however. As soon as the carnivores show up, the sweetness of these musical concepts are torn away by frenetic, percussive elements.
This brilliant composer’s score takes us through a thrilling variety of moods, as should be required of any adventure film’s music. At times, it’s hard to remember the glory he sang us at the inauguration of a fully functional park when the danger begins to aurally pummel us. Giacchino generates more scare in his score than any visuals rendered by Trevorrow. He bombards us with pounding tympanis and brass when the Indominus Rex is on the charge, and sends us fleeing with the flailing urgency of scattering woodwind voices. In those moments, he sounds the most like the man he replaced on this franchise (it should also be noted Don Davis was the first to take over for Williams in Jurassic Park III… no comment).
It’s nice to hear those moments solidarity between the two musicians, because their voices just don’t always coalesce gracefully. It’s occasionally jarring hearing a Williams melody swoop in, like an uninvited party guest. We’re not necessarily unhappy to see him, but he just doesn’t mesh so easily with the rest of the room. That misstep only occurs once or twice, and in the context of the film, most assuredly works seamlessly. As an album, however, those so-deeply-ingrained tunes popping up in otherwise new music sounds a little strange.
Michael Giacchino might be the most exciting thing to happen to film scores since Howard Shore took on The Lord Of The Rings. I have no doubt he will make his mark on several upcoming films, and he will have us humming his persisting themes for decades.
NERDY VINYL STUFF
Jurassic World comes in a two-disc gatefold sleeve, plastered with excellent evocative artwork by a pair of Mondo artists. The music is pressed on 180 gram black vinyl… unless you got lucky like me.
Mine just happened to be the super-cool, web exclusive version: 180 gram translucent green-with-blue-stripe vinyl, “In honor of Blue the Raptor”, to quote Mondo’s site directly (now sold out, but the black discs are still available). The fine people at this fine company never cease to amaze me with the thoughtful care they take in creating such fine, homage-paying products. If you love something, hopefully Mondo does too, because you just might get the perfect artistic rebirth of that thing in its highest quality.
I can’t say enough for classical music on vinyl. There is just something about it that… always pushes it into the free bin at the record store. Well, that may change with the vinyl rebellion, and Mondo is leading the charge with exquisite hi-fi releases like this.
Includes liner notes with brief thoughts from Colin Trevorrow and Michael Giacchino, and a listing of the orchestral staff.
MORE CINE-MUSIC ON VINYL
Mondo’s The Big Gundown
John Carpenter’s Lost Themes
A fine Resource
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The Archivist XXXVIII: Cheese-Filled Space Operas, Including ICE PIRATES
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.
I must say, I am so happy to have Frank Calvillo jumping into the Archivist mix. I have quite a pile of home video staring me down from my desk, and his presence at this column is the only reason I knocked it down a couple notches. Next week, you have another contributor to look forward to reading: Austin Vashaw, who will be covering a couple Alfred Hitchcock titles… I was too sluggish to grab first. No hard feelings, though! My focus was caught by another covetable Blu-ray release. The Ice Pirates has, only weeks ago, been released in HD by the fine folks at Warner Archives. Pairing it with another space adventure lead me to discover a Hammer sci-fi production, and although it was featured on MST3K… I am apparently dork enough to think it was kinda cool.
In a distant future, the extremely short supply of water has made it the most valuable substance in the universe. Those who control it make up a ruling class, The Templars Of Mithra, and a band of pirates lead by Jason (Robert Urich) is raiding one of their ships when they discover a sleeping princess. They attempt a kidnapping, but are captured themselves, and just before their castration sentence can be carried out, they are rescued by the princess who recruits them to help her find her father. The ensuing escapade takes them to exotic worlds, where they encounter Space Herpes, killer robots, and Bruce Vilanch’s disembodied head!
I had somehow forgotten seeing this movie more than once back when the “Syfy” channel was still spelling its name like it was abbreviated from English words. That was also a time when it played many a classic B-movie such as this. Often, it is described as a spoof of its genre, but one shouldn’t take on this movie expecting Mel Brooks. The Ice Pirates plays more like a straightforward space opera, but directed with a light and careless tone. No one working on this film takes it seriously for even an instant, and as long as the viewer knows what to expect, the viewer will have a lovely time watching it. It does seem to become more self-aware as it goes on, however. Once Vilanch’s character comes in, it’s almost like everyone found a new focus, and the jokes start coming fast. The funniest bit is by far the climactic battle scene, fought in a time tunnel, which causes the whole cast to age about 60 years (and grow preposterously huge beards) through the skirmish. It might only be for the real sci-fi nerds, but what other kind of sci-fi fan is there?
Speaking of nerds… I felt a little silly when I learned Moon Zero Two was the subject of an MST3K episode. Right from its pseudo-soulful opening theme song played over a School House Rock-style space race animation, I was thinking this movie was pretty cool. There is definitely a good movie somewhere in… the one I watched, but thanks to some rather poor effects and direction, the film just isn’t worth recommending.
It was a billed as a space western, which, almost ten years before STAR WARS, made it kind of a fresh idea. The elements are basically all there, too. James Olson plays a loner pilot who hungers for reaching the frontiers of Mercury and Jupiter’s moons, and discovers a wealthy land-owner (space land, that is) has killed a moon prospector in order to land a meteorite on the claim and make it his own. You know the rich guy is evil because he wears a monocle (space monocle, that is). Apparently, even after interplanetary travel has been perfected, and our moon has been colonized, we still haven’t popularized Lasik surgery. But hey, maybe he’s just old-fashioned?
The Western elements manifest in some rather bizarre ways, including a moon saloon with painfully goofy dancing girls. It’s for that kind of weirdness that the film becomes hard to accept, but the screenplay is full of slick dialogue and solid plotting, so it’s kind of a shame the thing just doesn’t play. It might be “the first moon western”, as the film’s poster suggests, but its many successors have western’d-up the moon, and beyond, with much more memorable results.
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ABSOLUTE BEGINNERS: Twilight Time’s Little Touch Of Bowie
by Ryan Lewellen
Absolute Beginners was released on Blu-Ray by Twilight Time on a limited run of 3,000 copies 6/9/15
In 1958 London, young Colin roams the night streets, camera fully loaded, snapping images of the most colorful people he can find. His love, Crepe Suzette (Patsy Kensit) possesses the kind of beauty any photographer would dream of holding close, but she is fickle when it comes to Colin. She is only interested in cementing her career in fashion, while Colin is content without money, and isn’t interested in success. It comes, none-the-less, to both of them, and they are hurled in opposite directions of celebrity. All the while, a shocking white supremacist movement is steadily growing in London, and those night streets Colin so loved to shoot may become unrecognizable, mutated by cancerous hatred.
When Absolute Beginners was released 1986, it somehow had the future of the entire British film industry weighing on its energetic, but disliked, shoulders. The country’s cinema was in crisis, and Julien Temple’s coming of age tale just wasn’t up to the task of rescue. It was hoped this would be a hit, revitalize the fledgling industry, and so it received obsessive media coverage before its release. Its inevitable flop didn’t kill British filmmaking, but it did take out its studio (Goldcrest) before fading into obscurity.
Obscurity serves a rollicking musical like this well. Going in blind makes for a rather exciting, if also baffling, experience. It covers a truly remarkable era of cultural renaissance in London. It makes postwar London look and feel like a kind of cultural funhouse; a wonderland of alcohol and art. Art was big, but the public’s love of Jazz was slowly being seduced by youthful Johnny-come-latleys playing catchy rock and roll songs. That might be considered a tragedy, but it’s practically cute in comparison with the advent of a neo-Nazi uprising. The clash depicted in Julien Temple’s lively film is often as electrifying as it is intriguing, but we can’t exactly add “authentic” to its list of positive descriptors.
Like most films in the 80s, it suffers from the viral encroachment of the decade’s popular culture. So much of the music, intended as classic rock n’ roll, or the hippest jazz, sounds undeniably like it was freshly composed in the filmmakers’ present day. Some of the fashion doesn’t do the film any favors in accuracy, either, but there is nothing more anachronistic than the sound of squeaky-clean synth clamor scoring images from the late 50s. David Bowie’s welcome presence wasn’t exactly a boon to the issue, but at least he’s David Bowie! He has a small but entertaining role, but his musical contributions to the film stick out like a Burqa at a Trump rally. The film is a weird mixed bag of lasting moods, some good music, and a monumental setting.
That setting, in a film about a photographer, just happens to be excellently photographed by Oliver Stapleton (My Beautiful Laundrette). The neon lights of the city streets, the quality compositions, and the outrageous fashions are only a small reason why, if you see it at all, you must see it in HD. Thank to Twilight Time, you now have your chance.
THE PACKAGE
Booklet Insert Featuring Write Up From Julie Kirgo: A solid read, as always.
Isolated Score Option
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Dr. Terror’s House Of Horrors: Whatever Of Doom!
by Ryan Lewellen
It’s an understatement to say not all horror anthologies are created equal. Admittedly, the sub-genre has earned its reputation as a mostly crummy category. Even the most notable exceptions are often only notable for a single vignette, but there are some excellent standouts. Trick ‘r Treat comes to mind, as does Creepshow. Even those films might not rank amongst the greatest horror films of all time, and I’m sad to say, neither does Dr. Terror’s House of Horrors. The first in a series of five anthologies from Amicus, this dull and precious film is an unbelievable waste of talent.
A mysterious psychic (Peter Cushing) insinuates himself into a train car with five strangers, including characters played by Donald Sutherland and Christopher Lee. He draws each of them a card to foretell their deaths via five supernatural elements: a werewolf, an intelligent vine, voodoo, a disembodied hand, and a vampire. Though one might find some charm in the film’s low-budget and superfluous exploits, it doesn’t offer a single moment of genuine fright. Flatly shot and oddly paced, the film gives a palpably indifferent feeling, as though this weren’t the start of a franchise, but the end of one. The stories are predictable and silly, and play like barrel-bottom scrapings.
That’s a shock, considering this project was the start of a series which produced the well-liked House That Dripped Blood, and a film I reviewed for The Archivist, From Beyond The Grave. Both of them, though scattershot, yielded a few tales several cuts far above anything in House Of Horrors. Considering the pedigree of its cast, it’s hard to believe this film could be so boring as well unimaginative. Even with Michael Gough (whose hand does the haunting in the only slightly clever episode), and the rest of these beloved actors doing their eerie best. I found it hard to stick with this lifeless entry into the genre.
Some credit is due where the voodoo segment is concerned, however. Real life jazz trumpeter and actor, Roy Castle, lures the ire of a witchdoctor when he brings the rhythms of the tribe back to London, where he incorporates it into one of his compositions (with the help of Tubby Hayes and Kenny Lynch). Turns out, the beat is sacred, and its pounding envelops the club with a whirlwind. That might be the most entertaining idea in the whole film, and more importantly, the jazz number is totally sick. If you can find the clip on youtube, I would honestly recommend watching that over the rest of this tired affair.
This one is for the real classic horror cultists, only.
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Two Cents: THE LADYKILLERS — with Featured Guest Michael Price
Two Cents is an original column akin to a book club for films. The Cinapse team will program films and contribute our best, most insightful, or most creative 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
Hail, Caesar! is upon us! A new Coen Brothers comedy is always cause for celebration… or is it? We decided to take a look back at one of their less appreciated films. Their 2004 remake The Ladykillers is often cited — usually alongside Intolerable Cruelty — as a misstep for the duo. Enough time has passed that The Ladykillers is now a “mid-career” entry on their filmographies, so how does it fare in hindsight?
Did you get a chance to watch along with us this week? Want to recommend a great (or not so great) film for the whole gang to cover? Comment below or post on our Facebook or hit us up on Twitter!
Next Week’s Pick:
Based on Aristophanes’ Lysistrata, the fiery Chi-Raq is the first collaboration between Spike Lee and writer Kevin Willmott. This edition of Two Cents is a follow-up of sorts: Readers may recall that we covered Willmott’s racial farce CSA: The Confederate States Of Americalast year. Chi-raq is now streaming on Amazon Prime (at no cost to subscribers).
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!
FEATURED GUEST
We’re excited and greatly honored to have writer and producer Michael Price giving us his Two Cents today. Michael is best known as a veteran writer of The Simpsons, though he has been involved with many other notable projects including Lego Star Wars. Currently, he is showrunner and co-creator of the hilariously irreverent animated 70s-themed sitcom F Is For Family, which just made its debut on Netflix last month. It’s not only very funny but an incredibly relatable show, and well worth checking out.
Since it’s unlikely I’ll get such a chance again, I want to pitch Mike a quick gag for The Simpsons. As Jeb! might say, “Please use this”.
[Homer’s weight comes up in conversation]
HOMER: I don’t understand why I haven’t lost a pound, I’ve been eating nothing but these health bars!
LISA: (inspects the wrapper) Dad, this is a Heath bar!Michael Price:
Look at any “Ranking The Coen Brothers Movies” listicle, and at the bottom you’ll unjustly find The Ladykillers. I won’t argue it belongs with Fargo or The Big Lebowski, but for my money, The Ladykillers is infinitely more entertaining than higher-regarded Coen Canon entries like Inside Llewyn Davis and, hold onto your horn rims, Barton Fink. Why? Maybe it’s Tom Hanks’ delicious performance as Professor G. H. Dorr. Maybe it’s the hypnotic sight of bodies in baggies wafting down to the big garbage barge of fate. But my real delight derives from J.K. Simmons as the spectacularly oversharing special effects Jackass-Of-All Trades Garth Pancake. I crossed paths with more than a few Garths on the short-lived sitcoms I wrote for before I landed The Simpsons, and Simmons absolutely nails the man. He pulls off the impossible feat of creating a character who is simultaneously soul-suckingly boring and transcendently delightful. And his mantra of pre-failure, “Easiest thing in the world,” perfectly encapsulates man’s bottomless capacity for optimism in the face of the tragic practical joke that is life.
And some of it is the I.B.S. Okay, mostly the I.B.S. I love shit jokes. There, I said it — easiest thing in the world. (@MikePriceInLA)
OUR GUESTS
Jaime Burchardt:
The Ladykillers will always be the odd point in the Coen brothers’ filmography…to me. Another Coens’ film ranks as the lowest of their careers, but it’s one everyone loves and lately that’s been making me curious to revisit it, but that’s besides the point. For me, The Ladykillers is not their weakest film, but it’s still at this weird, wonky level of failure. It’s off on the direction, the pace, even the lighting (which is extremely weird for a Coens’ feature). The main thing that stops this from being a complete bomb, though, is the ensemble cast. Hanks, Simmons, Wayans, Hurst, Hall, they’re all game, and they look like they’re having a blast. It’s automatically worth it to see for the Coen name, but the ensemble performances make it tolerable to stay for the whole thing. (@jaimeburchardt)
THE TEAM
Justin:
I suspect I’m in the minority here when I note that I’m not the biggest fan of the Coen brothers. While I know I need to give some of their early films another look having been away from them for a decade or more, I also know that the only film of theirs to really stick with me is The Big Lebowski. The Big Lebowski is one of my all-time favorites, in fact, but their remainder of their catalog is nothing special… until now.
This was my first viewing and I’m quite pleased that it was this week’s Two Cents pick as I doubt I’d have watched it on my own. I found the characters well drawn, the story interesting, and the ending to be pretty hilarious. I’m unsure why this film was widely panned and received as many negative reviews as positive ones, as personally I’d now have to rank it as my #2 Coen brothers film.
Very interested in following this up with the original. A fantastic selection that almost makes up for last week’s Cat-bacle… well, maybe not. (@thepaintedman)
Jon:
[Editor’s Note: We normally try to keep entries down to 200 words, but Jon’s righteous fury was just too good to trim]
The original The Ladykillers is one of my all time favorite films, hence a somewhat protective commentary here. A highlight of the classic Ealing comedies, which is saying something as that series truly represents one of the golden ages of British cinema. The 1955 version blended sublime performances from Alec Guinness (in one of his most stellar performances) as well as Peter Sellers, Herbert Lom and Cecil Parker. A play on the heist movie, it is utterly charming but with a genuine dark streak running through it.
Enter the Coen Brothers. Figures who I respect greatly and typically revel in everything they do. But their take on The Ladykillers? No. Just no.The film fails in two respects. Firstly because of how significantly it pales in comparison to the original. And secondly because of how it fails as a Coen film. A doubly disappointing effort. Despite the admirable efforts of Hanks and the fine Irma P. Hall.
It lacks wit, is just extremely lowbrow and overly reliant on crass humor. The levels of poor taste in the film actually exceed the idea of remaking the film in the first place. Unlike their other triumphant attempt at remake (technically a re-adaptation) True Grit, the Coens fail to put their own incomparable stamp on this feature. Instead the crassness feels more akin to something cast member Marlon Wayans (a man whose “comedy stylings” I am particularly averse to) himself would cook up.
What it comes down to is an issue with tone. The film yearns to be old fashioned and smart, but these modern, crass influences keep popping in. The original blended this clash of genteel manners and brutishness with superb elegance, at the time reflecting the social shift occurring in the British Isles. The players were all given greater definition and elicited sympathy whereas here they are just cartoon characters. This film lacks the civility and intelligence of both the 1955 version and the Coens’ other work. It’s a muddled mess. I think the most egregious thing (aside from the utter wasting of Bruce Campbell as an extra with NO lines), is that you can actually imagine the Coen Brothers doing a remake justice. It feels like a few creative changes here and there and it COULD have been pretty great. The fact they failed just makes it hurt all the more.
I view The Coen Brothers’ filmography as a happy relationship I’m in, satisfying me thoroughly with life events like Fargo, The Big Lebowski and Inside Llewyn Davis, but The Ladykillers was that time they jabbed their finger up my butthole (warning Kanye) without any warning or permission. I moved on, I forgave, but it was still a rough experience. (@Texas_Jon)
Ed:
A great teacher once said, “Man cannot live on amusement alone.” At least I think a great teacher once said that. At the very least I just said it right then. And I do mean at the very least. My point being: The Coens’ The Ladykillers is amusing virtually throughout, and that’s still not enough to count it as a good film. That isn’t to say I didn’t enjoy it, (my first viewing, so thanks to Austin and Brendan for their programming helping me to fill in important cinematic gaps) but there’s very little compelling beneath the surface here. And although amusing often, I never laughed out loud once. The far out performance of Tom Hanks seems to be what the whole film hinges on, and it’s a wonderfully weird thing to behold. J.K. Simmons steals the show, though, even if the script resorts to poop jokes to add dimensionality to his character. I’ll never approach making a film as good as The Ladykillers in my life, but as far as the Coens’ output, I can’t disagree with the masses that this is indeed lower tier Coen, which is to say fantastic compared to 90% of modern American cinema. (@Ed_Travis)
Alex:
I’m sure the rest of you are covering the many ways The Ladykillers is the Coen Brothers’ worst film; the paper-thin caricatures, the sloppy pacing, and the general comedic flatness. Save for Tom Hanks’ exceptionally hammy performance, The Ladykillers stands out for its sketchy portrayal of African-Americans and its disappointing mediocrity.
But I want to talk about Ryan Hurst. The Coens have an eye for promising young talent, showcasing John Turturro and Oscar Isaac (among others) before their careers took off, but they dropped the ball here. In 2004, Hurst was best known for Remember the Titans, so casting him as a brain-damaged athlete and the titular group’s dim comic relief was uninspired casting in a flatly written role. A few years later, when Hurst popped up on Sons of Anarchy, he emerged as a soulful, intense performer, often standing out as the show’s most interesting character.
The Ladykillers is practically an exercise in waste, saddling its cast with a dud of a script and pausing the Coens’ career for years. However, its greatest waste was Ryan Hurst, and the knowledge that Sons of Anarchy had a better handle on its cast’s abilities than The Ladykillers solidifies its bottom-shelf status. (@AlexWilliamsdt)
Frank:
All the greats have their misses. Even the Coens. Along with The Hudsucker Proxy and Intolerable Cruelty, it seems that The Ladykillers is destined to be one of the blemishes on the brothers’ otherwise incredible collection of films. The Ladykillers offers no hero, but rather a bunch of greedy losers, it drags on at least a couple of occasions and never fully gathers enough power to forge a clear linear focus. Instead, The Ladykillers is just a bunch of moments, most of which don’t come together.
Yet the ones that do, really hit home. Its hard to deny the pure, dark Coen-ness of the bulldog suffocating while wearing a WWII mask as the commercial director frantically worries that the Humane Society representative will notice, the scene in the Waffle Hut where Marlon Wayans cannot believe J.K. Simmons has let his girlfriend in on the plan, or when Wayans bribes his boss with $100 to let him have his menial cover job back. They may be the best of a mediocre lot, but they’ve definitely got the filmmakers’ unique stamp.
If anything, The Ladykillers also features one of Tom Hanks’ most unusual performances. His southern gothic professor is literally from another time and place and its nice to see the actor leave his Jimmy Stewart-like performance at home for a change. His scenes with the great Irma P. Hall are fun to watch as he playfully marches to his own drummer and she annoyingly looks on.
The Ladykillers may very well be the Coen brothers’ worst, but its still better than a few people’s best. (@frankfilmgeek)
Austin:
I didn’t have particularly strong feelings about The Ladykillers when I saw it upon its original release. It may have helped that I wasn’t familiar with the original film (and probably wasn’t aware that there was one). While I found — and still find — the constantly profane dialogue a bit too crass, I generally liked the movie, finding amusement in the performances of Tom Hanks and J.K. Simmons, as well as Mrs. Munson’s thoughts on hippety hop and “I left my wallet in El Segundo”. I also took the opinion that, like O Brother Where Art Thou, the film’s resolution was open to interpretation as either divine influence or dumb chance. As the criminals plot to murder the widowed Mrs. Munson, they are each killed off in unbelievable ways.
Upon this rewatch, I found The Ladykillers a bit less fun than before — but not much. Being more familiar with the Coen Brothers, it doesn’t fare as well against their other films. I wasn’t as enamored with Tom Hanks’ outrageous genteel performance — in fact, his nervous ticks now struck me as somewhat annoying. The biggest problem I noticed, though, was the entirely stereotypical portrayals of black folks: it seems most of the black characters in this film are either loud-mouthed thugs or singing in the church choir.
While my opinion of the film is indeed a bit less than before, I still laughed throughout and generally like it, and still would argue that it’s not the terrible film many make it out to be. Most critically, I think the question of divine influence over the final act is still an interesting one. (@VforVashaw)
Brendan:
I remembered vaguely disliking The Ladykillers the first time I saw it, back as a teenager, and I haven’t revisited it until now. Well, you can take away the ‘vaguely’. I do not like this movie. If anything, having now seen the rest of the Coen Canon (why is that not more commonly used) the flat, try-hard-y failure of this movie is all the more glaring. Tom Hanks works as hard as he ever has to wring laughs, and he does succeed in places because, well, he’s Tom Goddamn Hanks. But the rest of the cast is either short-shifted by the script (how do you have both J.K. Simmons AND Stephen Root in your film and not give either of them a memorable beat?) or just flat-out don’t work (I assume at some point in time there were people who found Marlon Wayans bugging his eyes out and yelling “Fuck” or “Bitch” a lot funny, but I am not one of those people).
After re-watching the remake, I went back and watched the original The Ladykillers for the first time, and seeing just how great the original material truly is only makes the absolute wet fart of failure that is this film stink all the more. Seeing as the Coens almost-instantly rebounded, it’s hard to get too mad about this film. It’s just a weird cast-off mutation that we are better off not thinking about anymore. (@TheTrueBrendanF)
Did you all get a chance to watch along with us? Share your thoughts with us here in the comments or on Twitter or Facebook!
