This One Time? In the West?

To follow up with his successful "Dollars" (or "No-Name") trilogy, Sergio Leone directed Once Upon A Time in the West. Starring a relatively young Charles Bronson as "Harmonica" and an against-type Henry Fonda as "Frank," it's your rather typical Leone spaghetti western. I don't mean to be trite about it, or lessen its impact: When I say "typical" in this context, it means that Leone is typically excellent, and doesn't disappoint.

Ennio Moriccone provides a haunting score, as usual. Dario Argento also helped write the screenplay, and I'm a big fan of his thrillers, giallo, and horror/slasher films. I'm used to Bronson in his later films, of the Death Wish ilk. I didn't have the same pop-culture surprise/recoil at the early revelation that the villain is Henry Fonda, but I'm sure it was extremely effective on its contemporary audience.

It's an unusual experience for me, in general. This film was released in the United States 40 years ago. Since that point, many of the things featured in this film (and others like it) have become the standard, the norm, and even clichéd in this genre. I have to continually remind myself of when the film was produced and released, and imagine what the audience of its day must have thought and felt.

I must say, my favorite character in the film was Cheyenne, played by Jason Robards. He was a criminal, gunfighter, and gang leader, but I didn't really find him to be menacing. He's good-humoured, and often slightly off-put by Harmonica's tendency to, well, play the harmonica instead of talking, or basically doing what's expected. And when you expect him to play that stupid harmonica, well, he'll either shoot you or start talking.

As with most movies based on the American old west (even those filmed in Spain by Italians), this film centers around gunfighters, a tough-as-nails but beautiful woman (just a touch out of her element, and played perfectly by Claudia Cardinale), and most importantly, the friggin' railroad. Trains were the most technically advanced, as well as fastest and highest-capacity methods of transportation at the time, and is responsible for a great deal of westward expansion (and ill-treatment of immigrant workers, but that issue isn't really addressed here). Even the worst westerns (Roger Corman's Gunslinger immediately and unfortunately comes to mind) feature plots involving the railroad.

In Once Upon A Time..., a rich dude with (I kid you not) bone tuberculosis tries to build his railroad across the country, so he can see the Pacific ocean before he dies (spoiler: he doesn't, he dies by a mud puddle near the Claudia Cardinale character's home). Originally, Frank killed Jill's(Cardinale's) new husband and his children in order to gain control of his property, to monopolize the railroad or something. Little did he know that Mr. McBain (I kept shouting MENDOZA! in my head every time I heard the name) married some former prostitute in New Orleans the month before, so she inherited the homestead. She eventually helps the railroad go through for whatever reason; probably for something to do, because the old west was as boring as it was deadly.

It's near the expansion of the railroad that Harmonica has his confrontation with Frank, where we see that Frank hanged Harmonica's brother when he was young; Harmonica supported his brother while a noose was about his neck, with a harmonica in his mouth. He either fell, or his brother kicked him away, and thus he died, and Harmonica got his harmonica, and swore his silent vengeance on Frank. So, basically, Charles Bronson can only act if his character is in desperate need to kill another human being (or multiple human beings). I half expected him to say typical Bronson-isms like "No dice," or "Dis ain't over."

This film is undeniably a classic of the spaghetti western, a genre that doesn't get nearly enough respect. It's subtly shot, with nary a wasted frame. The music is so good it's become the stereotypical staple of this kind of film (or at least a musical score extremely similar to this). It features memorable performances, a great turn as a villain for Henry Fonda, a perfectly understated role for Charles Bronson, and the sexy and talented Claudia Cardinale looking troubled and smoky most of the time, which somehow works. Also, we get to see Henry Fonda shooting an 8 year old point-blank in the chest within the first fifteen minutes (it takes about ten minutes for the credits to roll).

I recommend it. It's violent, but it's 1960s violent, which means not a lot of blood and gore, but a lot of shooting and people grabbing at their stomachs, wincing, groaning, spinning, and then falling down, falling off roofs, falling through tables, etc. Plus, the main villain gets his in the end, which was a trend already falling out of favor by the late '60s. It's important to note that Cheyenne dies, as well, leaving Harmonica alive. Apparently, because he's the only one that killed in a "justified" manner; Cheyenne and Frank killed for (occasionally) less "noble" reasons.

I rate it four and a half warbling harmonicas out of a possible five warbling harmonicas.

I Got Your Comet, Right Here!

Ok, so this movie wasn't what I was expecting. As in, at all. The movie poster featured above tries very hard to make this film seem like one of the earlier, and better, zombie-apocalypse films that have come before it. What I didn't expect was for it to be an extremely 80s movie, with big hair, bright colored outfits on valley girls, and the girl that was in The Last Starfighter (which opened the same year).

Basically, the same comet that probably killed the dinosaurs is headed back near earth, and of course, it has captivated the imaginations of everyone in L.A. That's the only way to explain how there are so few survivors. Oh, yeah, by the way, the comet turns everyone into Ovaltine. Or, some sort of red dust. Except for Regina and her sister Sam, two typical southern California teenagers, obsessed with arcade games and cheerleading, respectively. Sam likes to wear magenta and turquoise, and Regina sleeps with the projector-jockey at the movie theater and is angered by "DMK" getting 6th place on her favorite arcade game. (It's one of those "hey, it's not technically important now, nor will it ever be, but we'll call back to it once before the movie ends" kind of deals.) They're such well-rounded and crisply developed characters! I'm so glad that they'll comprise roughly one quarter of all the characters in the film!

This is the problem that I've always had with movies from the 80s: music from the '80s is absolutely awful. Not all music, mind you, but more specifically, the 1980s idea of what good movie soundtrack music should be. Costs of synthesizers and electronic drum-machines must have been at an all-time low in that decade, because there's no other reason they would be so universally prevalent. Also, and I'm not even kidding, there is a mall montage to Cyndi Lauper. Because that's what we all want to do when the world ends and all of our loved ones and friends get turned into a delicious chocolate powder: Shopping spree!

There is most likely some sort of commentary hidden in that particular crap-fest. The first place that the girls go is the local radio station, where they're met by Hector, who appears sporadically through the rest of the film. They encounter maybe two comet-zombies by this point, and the first one kills Regina's boyfriend (played by Michael Bowen, who would later play "Buck" in Kill Bill Vol. 1 and molest a coma-stricken Uma Thurman). Where was I? Oh, yeah. The mall as a place of refuge during apocalypse was done much better in Dawn of the Dead, where it actually has some meaning behind it. In this film, they prance around for a little while, and they're then briefly attacked by the former stockboys, who have taken over the mall in some militant "white panthers" gang, although they've conceivably run into no other survivors up until this point. They're not very important, anyway, but I wanted to note that their "leader," a strange little man in a smoking jacket that he was somehow able to embroider his name upon, makes dumb comments like a TV show announcer, and it's extremely annoying. Man, that guy sucks.

There are also some scientists after them, briefly introduced in the beginning, seeming to know that the comet will powderize everyone (actually, now that I think of it, it's kind of like "dehydrating" the U.N. or whatever in the Adam West Batman movie). They come out when they hear the survivors on the radio, and apparently think that they can harvest the blood of survivors to make some strange serum to cure themselves. For you see, they weren't completely protected from the comet's effects: it managed to sneak into the air vents and infect them slowly. Apparently, that's what the zombies are all about: they're being "Ovaltined" more slowly, which, of course, entails a "bloodthirsty zombie" phase. So these dumb scientists are slowly turning into zombies/powder, and because Regina was asleep in a movie theater projection booth (apparently encased completely in lead, making it safer than a fershlugginer bomb shelter), they really want her blood for their serum. Makes sense, right? Of course, the whole time, there are synthesizers screeching away in the background.

In the end, they're able to somehow defeat the crazy scientists (though they would have eventually turned into Nestlé's Quik anyway), and then immediately become "mature," with Regina and Hector adopting two survivor children rescued from the scientist-place, even though everyone on Earth is still totally dead. Sam, the rebellious cheerleader who at first might have been vaguely infected, but then apparently got better, was all "Like, yuck, guys, what with the grown-up clothes and responsibility and blah blah blah *gum chewing*" And then, some hitherto-unknown and utterly random survivor shows up in a super-sweet '80s convertible. It's DMK! Holy crap, they call back to something from the first five minutes of the film in the last five seconds of the film. Truly, Thom Eberhardt is a cinematic treasure and a gift to all directors. Luckily, he brought similar genius to that all-time classic Captain Ron. Yeah, seriously.

It's definitely worth the watch, especially if you like that sort of thing. I recommend it, but not too highly. On a scale of "I loathed it" to "I loved it," I'll have to give it an "I saw it" rating.

Bee Movie

In sharp contrast to my last post, tonight I watched Bee Movie. This computer animated family film from Dreamworks features a bee named Barry B. Benson (voiced by Jerry Seinfeld) that decides to go outside the hive, try and seduce a human woman, and then sue the human race for stealing honey and selling it (featuring Ray Liotta Private Select honey). Then, when he wins the lawsuit, apparently without consulting any form of basic scientist, botanist, entomologist, or apiologist, realizes that without bees, all plants on earth will die. Hey, how about that? Days later, they manage to re-pollenate the entire earth's stock of withering plants with a stolen Parade of Roses float. Also, he sues Sting (voiced by Sting) because of his vaguely bee-themed stage name. Hooray!

One of the most striking things to me was the choice of Jerry Seinfeld as the main character and hero. It's surprisingly brilliant in some ways, and completely bizarre in others. I've always felt that Seinfeld was words and a voice. On his long-running sitcom, he was, without a doubt, the least physical of all the main performers. He was quick with the quips, but when it came to delivering laughs with a movement, expression, or gesture, he almost always fell flat, seeming staged, stilted, and generally unconvincing. Placing all the emphasis on the voice, and allowing talented animators make the gestures and facial expressions was a genius move. My favorite moment in the movie is when he first discovers Ray Liotta's special brand of honey. He hovers there, hands up, with a "Wha-buh-huh-guh?" expression on his face. In the real world, he could never have pulled that off.

As par for the course in family films, this one is filled with vague "adult" jokes, to make it more palatable for the adults that are invariable dragged to these things by gaggles of screeching, grabby little germ-machines known as children. The movie starts out with a very strong sense of "Work is kind of for suckers, huh?" Apparently, in this universe, bees work in a complicated and efficient Rube Goldberg-esque hive-themed carnival, and must choose one job to do for the rest of their tiny little lives. There's also an idea of insect time-dilation (three days of high school, three days of college, but thank the BeeJesus that he took that day in between to bum around), but once Barry leaves the hive and starts flirting with human Vanessa (voiced by Renée Zelwegger), this time compression idea vanishes.

Speaking of Vanessa and Barry, they share a number of vaguely unsettling and disquieting scenes of intimacy, where one can't help but wonder the ramifications of such a logistically improbably trans-species relationship. Several characters nonchalantly refer to her as his "girlfriend," and his friend Adam (voiced by Matthew Broderick) even states that they "make out." Thank BeeJesus that Barry vehemently denies this accusation, though longs deep in his heart of hearts that it were true.

The voice acting is spot on, especially by the more minor characters. Rip Torn plays a diminutive drill sergeant to the "Pollen Jocks," the squadron of bees that acquire pollen. Patrick Warburton plays Vanessa's human boyfriend Ken, with his classic deep-voiced exuberance with a slight tinge of insanity. Larry Miller plays some strange bee mayor-figure, and it's difficult to explain why it's so great. There's even an appearance by Larry King, as "Bee Larry King," where Barry points out that there's a nearly identical version of Larry King in the human word, in a strange scene absolutely stuffed with meta-references. Unfortunately, there are several jokes that are poorly set up, fall flat, and simply don't deliver (a scene that sets up an especially poor "Drag Queen" pun comes cringingly to mind).

Bee Movie sadly lacks much of what we should really look for in an animated movie. The characters and plot are wild and underdeveloped, and don't seem to follow any sort of set path. Despite the initial message of "Why work so hard for the hive blah blah blah," it eventually reverses itself, telling about "Hey, guess what, nevermind, if you don't do what you're supposed to be doing, the entire ecosystem will break down and life could end as we know it!" Eventually, we're all doomed to succumb to the swelling tide of the working world. Plus, we'll have to listen to Jerry Seinfeld's screeching pseudo-anxious voice most of the time while we're at it.

Meh, three out of five. I'm being pretty generous with that; it's not as good as Disney movies, or other Dreamworks films, but ... yeah, it's just not as good.

I Spit On Your Grave

Rented from Netflix July 15th, 2009

Roger Ebert said it was one of the worst films he'd ever seen. And it's probably up there. One of the first thoughts that I had when watching the movie was that "Boy, this was a lot better when it was Last House on the Left and Deliverance."

Jenny Hill, a beautiful young writer from New York City decides to spend her summer in a secluded cabin to write her first novel. Literally every man she personally encounters in this tiny town decides that she's a sexy but snooty big city girl, and so what do good rednecks do with city people? Have you seen Deliverance?

Queue the banjo music. This movie falls into an exploitation subgenre called the "rape and revenge movie," wherein a pretty young girl is physically assaulted by one or several men, left for dead, and either seeks revenge on the attackers directly, or is killed, leaving her loved ones to seek revenge on her behalf.

On the one hand, this subgenre could be seen as an updated throwback to classic cinema, wherein the villain's dastardly behavior is ultimately repaid in their gruesome and completely justified murders. However, there is often a lot of controversy involved given their graphic, brutal, and unsettling sex scenes, followed closely thereafter by equally brutal and extreme revenge scenes. It can basically be seen as being so extremely and ridiculously "feminist," that it goes all the way back around to being misogynistic. These films are invariably directed by men, as well.

In some ways, I agree with Roger Ebert. The initial rape scenes are incredibly graphic. Not only that, but there's a sense that it will never stop. Mostly, it seems this way because the act itself is perpetrated by four men, and takes place in three locations, ending within Jenny's very own cabin. Not only that, but the nefarious hillbillies tear up her manuscript, violating not only her physical body and sense of safety, but her creative output and work, leaving her with nothing left. The scene that takes place in her cabin is doubly visceral in the several shots where she is sprawled on the floor, a hideously '70s but appropriate black-and-red monstrosity, which makes her look as though she's still sprawled in blood. The final man, Matthew, seemingly a sweet simpleton, is charged with the task of stabbing the girl to death. Being the George-from-Of-Mice-and-Men partial defective that he is, he doesn't really kill her, which allows her to recuperate for two weeks in peace, eventually healing (physically), piecing her manuscript back together (in some none-too-subtle parallelism), and eventually resuming her work. This is the point where the realism diverges in these movies: The girl decides that she' go all Charles Bronson on their asses and wreak her savage revenge.

In these types of slasher films, the female lead is always difficult for male audiences to identify with. That's why she's often given a distinctively phallic weapon (knife, boat oar, machete, and to a lesser extent, a gun), which she is able to turn on her male attacker. The main reason that most critics are harsh of the message of this movie is that Jenny exploits the hillbilly's moronic sexuality by luring them to their doom with her own sexual advances. The question that you have to ask is: Would anyone actually be so stupid as to think that a woman that they assaulted (without masks, or fake names, or any other ways of hiding their identities) would actually be willing to pursue them? Of course, they pay dearly for this shortsightedness with their lives (and in one leg-crossingly graphic scene, their actual manhood). I would have loved to see waifish Jenny Hill toss aside her typewriter and big-ol' 1970s glasses and go Jason Voorhees on their asses, stalking them like a hideous golem through the very woods that they inhabit, in an endless and bloody pursuit until they are all but tiny hick-chunks all over the forest floor.

Not much can really be said of Meir Zarchi's "style" of "directing" this "movie." He seems to be very much of the school of "point the camera at things while stuff happens." There isn't a lot of camera movement (aside from panning and tilting, which doesn't really count as "movement"), which might mean something; on the other hand, it might mean that he didn't have a steadi-cam or wheels for a tracking shot. There also isn't any soundtrack present in the film, and the few pieces of music that we do hear are presented diagetically (from within the sphere of the scene itself). He doesn't do anything groundbreaking directorially, and as far as the written script goes, he owes much to The Last House on the Left and Deliverance, both released in 1972.

Oh, hey, you probably wanted to get some sort of review here, some idea of whether or not the movie is worth watching, and not some vague, half-baked mini-essay about it. I give it three and a half stars out of five. There are better films to watch in this genre, but this one stands out primarily because of the controversy it garnered due to its graphic nature (as well as the fact that the uncut version was initially distributed with an "R" rating, unbeknownst to the director) and robustly negative and disgusted reviews.

Bottom line is, if you want to see a hillbilly gas station attendant brutally castrated in a bathtub, hey, you're probably sick in the head, but this movie totally has that.