Seen It (Again): The Hired Hand (1971)

Quite a bit of what little time I do spend "watching" television consists primarily of my flipping through service provider menus looking for something (anything!) to watch.  It's been a few years since I last came across it on Netflix, but was happy to see Peter Fonda's directorial debut (and follow-up to his iconic turn as "Captain America" in Dennis Hopper's Easy Rider (1969)), The Hired Hand (1917), turn up on STARZ this past week.

In many ways, this quiet, meandering movie is the perfect palette cleanser for today's loud and obvious cinema. Suggesting Fonda learned from Hopper and cinematographer Lazslo Kovacs while Easy Rider, The Hired Hand retains many of the stylistic flourishes and meditative imagistic qualities that were so uniquely presented in Easy Rider. Overlapping fade-in transitions, languid, poetic montages, and the camera's tendency to patiently follow character interactions--all which stand in sharp contrast to modern film making's sped up shaky cams and "tell me now" storytelling. The Hired Hand was also the first feature for future Academy Award winning cinematographer Vilmos Zsigmond (1977s Close Encounters of the Third Kind), whose ability to capture the spirit of the American Southwest is suggested here.

From the opening scene, a somber, reflective tone is established. Our two protagonists, Harry Collings (Fonda) and Arch Harris (actor Warren Oates, probably best remembered by my generation as Sgt. Hulka in Stripes) are resting by a river as their younger traveling companion, Dan Griffen (Robert Pratt) is seen frolicking in the water. Much is made of Harry's displeasure with Dan's silliness, though he is reminded by Arch that this is likely as the younger man is very much as Harry was in his youth. Arch and Harry two have been traveling the American Southwest together for seven years, and despite making plans to head to California, it becomes clear that Harry is tired of life as a saddle tramp. After catching something on his fishing line (the significance of which is revealed shortly thereafter), Harry decides to change course and return "home" to the wife he left behind to travel with Arch.

Along the way, as often happens in Westerns, the three stop in a dying desert town for a drink and run into some tough locals. When Dan is framed for some unseemly behavior, he stumbles into the hole-in-the-wall bar and drops dead. After exacting some painful revenge on a group of locals for the role in the death of their friend, Arch and Harry skip town. Of course, their actions will come back to haunt them later. If there is an external conflict in the movie, and one complaint about The Hired Hand has been that it lacks a clear narrative, this is it, though it only returns for resolution in the final 15 minutes of the movie.

In The Hired Hand, however, it is the internal conflicts of the two leads, which come to the forefront once the two reach Harry's old homestead and his estranged wife, Hannah Collings (Verna Bloom), is introduced. Still angered and hurt by Harry's withdrawal from her (and their daughter's) life, he convinces Hannah to allow him to stay, not as her husband, but as the hired hand of the film's title. Arch, ever the loyal partner, stays with Harry in order to help his partner repair this damaged relationship. In the end, however, it becomes clear that Harry will need to end his seven-year  relationship with Arch if he is to embrace a new domestic life with Hannah.

Of the things that make The Hired Hand recommended viewing, it is Warren Oates performance as Arch that is foremost. As played by Oates, Arch is the only character that is provided with the opportunity, by virtue of his sincere and honest humor, to develop beyond the somber, sad realities depicted here. Arch has clear affection for those he chooses to include in his life, a quality clearly expressed in his easy going manner with Hannah's daughter, who has lived her life thus far with the understanding that her father is dead.

Aided immensely by Bruce Langhonre's haunting (and critically acclaimed) score and cinematographer Zsigmond's picturesque vistas, The Hired Hand (1971) works best as a character study, albeit one with with some good ol' fashioned gun play thrown in for good measure. An unusual Western that embraces (much like fellow neo-Western Easy Rider)  the platonic, romantic relationship between Arch and Harry, it subtly, and beautifully, depicts the strong hold friendship can have on those involved. 

The Hired Hand is an odd movie that rewards carefully viewing (and re-watching). It is also very likely not for everyone, but, if you dig 1970s movies and film-making, or neo-Westerns, I recommend you give it a try.  Once available on Netflix, and now on STARZ, many finer public libraries may also have an old copy waiting on it's shelves waiting to be rediscovered.

Seen It: Young Detective Dee: The Rise of the Sea Dragon (2013)

Releasing expensive (and potentially lucrative) prequels/sequels to successful movies is a money-making creative decision common not just too Hollywood, but in other film-making markets internationally. Regardless of the country of origin, prequels/sequels often fall into certain pitfalls such as thinking bigger (more villains, larger threats, higher stakes) is better without concern for narrative quality.

Tsui Hark's 2010 Chinese-Hong Kong action hit Detective Dee and the Mystery of the Secret Flame, (a movie I reviewed previously) spawned a prequel, and unlike lesser movie fare, it proves a worthy follow-up. Returning to Young Detective Dee: The Rise of the Sea Dragon (2013) is the creative force behind the original, director/producer Tsui Hark, while Andy Lau is replaced as Detective Dee by Taiwanese-Canadian actor Mark Chao. Not surprisingly, the contrast between each film's lead actor reflects some key general differences: whereas Lau's Dee was grizzled and driven my a sense of dark foreboding, Chao's younger protagonist is quirky, confident and surprisingly romantic.

With a narrative rooted in Chinese history, providing a quick summary is difficult, and once again Barnes and Noble does so more succinctly than I ever could: "The bustling capital city of Luoyang has come under attack from a powerful force from the depths of the ocean, threatening the entire Celestial Empire. Dispatched by Minister Yan to investigate for the Da Lisi, Detective Dee (Mark Chao) quickly learns that two dragons have appeared in the capital. Meanwhile, the newly crowned Empress Wu (Carina Lau, reprising her role from Mystery of the Secret Flame) has ordered Detective Luchi to investigate as well. Later, the sea monster attacks a ceremonial procession, spreading a wave of chaos throughout the city. When Dee uncovers evidence of a conspiracy implicating the most prominent members of the Imperial Family, he is imprisoned for treason. Now Dee's only hope for exposing the truth behind the bizarre events unfolding in Luoyang is to investigate the radiant courtesan Yin (Angelababy), but in order to do that he'll first need to escape prison with a little help from Shatuo Zhong (Lin Gengxin). Once Dee is free, the race is on to save the city, and expose the treachery that threatens to topple the empire."

Actor Lin Gengxin (pictured right) plays the Robin to Mark Chao's Batman (left).

Beyond the expected wire-fu combat (once again choreographed by the legendary Sammo Hung),  Tsui conceptualizes Dee's powers of deduction (bordering on psychic abilities in the earlier movie) in a variety of ways that give our protagonist the appearance of being superhuman. Early on the film, Dee's ability to read lips is shown visually in a manner reminiscent of Spider-man's spider sense in Sam Riami's original trilogy. Quite a bit of the way objects and scenes interact with the camera (and therefore audience) also seem to suggest a movie that had been intended for release in 3D: ships splinter into the audience's face, weapons come toward the screen, and the camera pans through open porticoes. The special effects have a more obvious CGI appearance than the previous film, but this is liekly due to its use rather than its execution. In (old) Detective Dee, most of the special effects were used to depict backgrounds and architecture; in Young Detective Dee, the narrative requires more interaction by the actors with various CGI elements such as ships on the ocean under attack or giant monsters.

The performances are strong and Chao plays Dee as smart and quirky, but with a naivete playing the younger version allows; Chao's Dee always has something brewing. His relationship with impromptu sidekick Shatuo Zhong (Lin Gengxin) is presented as a respectful, collaborative one rather than for laughs, a refreshing dynamic given some action filmmakers' crutch of using minor characters for comic relief. Many of the nuanced actions and interactions between Dee and Zhong seem to reflect or suggest things that result in the older Dee character from the first film. My sense is that some of the characterization groundwork laid in Rise of the Sea Dragon will come into clearer view after a re-watch of The Secret Flame.

Young Detective Dee: Rise of the Sea Dragon is an effective and entertaining historical action film with strong performances and suitably cartoony effects that do not detract form the overall viewing experience. It is best viewed with the original, to which it is a prequel. Both are available for instant online viewing via Netflix.

Seen It: The Secret of Kells (2009)

While I vaguely recall The Secret of Kells (2009) having a brief run at my local art film theater, I regrettably never had the chance to see it on the big screen. Like so many movies that after seeing the trailer I eventually forget having had a desire to see it, my piqued interest in Kells was eventually lost to the sands of time. Fortunately for those of us with poor memories, Netflix continues to be the gift that keeps on giving. I came across the title as a "Top Picks For You" on the first day of Presidents Week Recess and began my Monday with it, happy to discuss what tremendous treasure it is.

The rarest of all animated movies (independent, multinational financing, hand drawn, and without over-the-top pop music production numbers), The Secret of Kells (2009) is directed by Tomm Moore, who also receives a story credit, from a screenplay by Fabrice Ziolkowski. Based on the story of the origin of the Book of Kells, an illuminated manuscript Gospel book in Latin, containing the four Gospels of the New Testament located in Dublin, Ireland, the film also draws upon Celtic mythology.

The story, with help from Netflix, is simple: "When Vikings attack an Irish abbey, the monks must stop work on the legendary Book of Kells and protect their home. So Brendan (voiced by Evan McGuire), the 12-year-old nephew of Abbott Cellach (Brendan Gleeson), is tasked by visiting "illuminater" Brother Aidan (Mick Lally) with assisting in the completion of the magnificent work. With Brother Aidan's cat, Pangur Bán, as a partner in crime, Brendan's joins forces with Aisling (Christen Mooney), a fairy living in the woods outside of Kells. Rest assured that the execution of the director and animators assures that the story does not play out in an obvious a manner as the brief synopsis suggests.

Brendan and Aisling.

Though the easiest way of singing the praises of any animated film NOT by Disney/Pixar/Dreamworks is by contrasting it with the deficiencies of those same company's films, that would only serve to focus on the negatives of the latter rather then the fabulous positives of the former.

• The voice cast is excellent, and to my ear, comprised of relative unknowns, the most recognizable voice being that of actor being Brendan Gleeson (Braveheart and the Harry Potter films among others) who plays Abbot Cellach.
• The traditional (really "old fashioned" nowadays) animation is gorgeous yet somehow "edgy." When the opportunity to go the "big battle" route with the visual storytelling, the choice is made to get metaphorical (or metaphysical). 
• The romance is real. Of course the romance here is between man and the written word. Though the story and its religious trappings intimates the Word (capitalization intentional), much of the dialogue suggests the world of reading, writing and imagination. When it comes to books, Kells reminds us to "the cover is not the real treasure... open it." The movies core is developed around the completion and saving of "the most incredible book in the whole world capable of turning darkness into light."

If it reads as if the superlatives used here are over the top, you're reading correctly. Tonally, The Secret of Kells owes much more to the works of quiet, magic of Hayao Miyazaka (think Spirited Away)  than with the more common loud and garish assembly line animated movies of recent years. For yours truly, that is more than enough reason to recommend checking it out. My only regret is not having taken the opportunity to support this time of animation/storytelling when it was given its brief theatrical release.

Pangur Bán, Brendan and Brother Aidan in the scriptorium.

Seen It: Lair of the White Worm (1988)

With the continuing nostalgia for most-things Eighties, one can only hope that some of the more unusual cult films of that era will be rediscovered in this New Year. A director certainly ready for rediscovery is British filmmaker Ken Russell (The Who's Tommy, Altered States, and many others). While well-known by film aficionados, I suspect that there are a number of college students who would appreciate his eccentric, sexually charged storytelling--college is where I first came across his literary-based films. While studying British Luterature I came across Gothic (1986) about the night that prompted Mary Shelley's Frankenstein and, later, The Lair of the White Worm (1988).

The Lair of the White Worm is a 1988 British horror film based (very) loosely on the Bram Stoker (Dracula) novel of the same name; a novel which itself draws upon the English legend of the Lambton Worm. Written and directed by Russell, Lair stars then-TV starlets Amanda Donohoe (L.A. Law) and Catherine Oxenberg (Dynasty), as well as a very young Hugh Grant (About A Boy, Bridget Jones Diary). Of more modern interest might be the co-starring turn by a young Scot named Peter Capaldi, who was just recently been selected to play BBC TV icon Dr. Who.

I hadn't watched Lair in its entirety in almost 20 years, so was excited to come across it on Netflix a few nights ago. I am even more pleased to share that it has aged fairly well. Being an update (of sorts) of an even older story probably helped, as did Russell's tongue in-cheek approach to what he considered his "horror film." For many reasons, his experimental horror film was ahead of its time (and ours). Russell's clearly anti-Christian bent would be hard pressed in our more conservative culture (regardless of what talking heads say about "left wing media") to secure financial backing in our more modern cinema. Russell always was one to push the boundaries of acceptable content (Whore, anyone?) and the use of psychedelic visuals (the background on the poster to the right does appear n the film) and depictions of crazed pagan nude dancing and simulated sex would be late-night SyFy horror in lesser-skilled hands.

Peter Capaldi, the new Doctor Who, as Scottish archaeology student Angus Flint.

The performances by all are splendid, from the headlining stars to the now-familiar British character actors who turn up in a variety of small roles. It struck me is how under-appreciated Hugh Grant is, and I was wondering why he isn't used more frequently in films. Here is at his easy-going best, nimbly expressing a calm and cool demeanor as the foppish Lord James D'Ampton who is destined to fight the evil, serpentine Lady Sylvia Marsh (Amanda Donohoe). Grant makes acting look easy, emitting a devil-may-care vibe thoughout. It is Lord D'Ampton who gets to the crux of the problem when he surmises that, while brainstorming with Angus Flint Capaldi), "...a conflict between Christianity and some early pagan cult... possibly involving even human sacrifice" is afoot. As Grant's adversary, Donohoe is a charismatic snake-pire in blue body paint and fangs, capable of delivering hallucinogenic venom. It is Donohoe's topless performance as Lady Marsh, as well as some rather tame (by today's standards) "gore," that likely was responsible for Lair's R-rating.

Lady Marsh (Amanda Donohoe) get's freaky during a hallucination.

The Lair of the White Worm (1988) [Rated R] is a highly recommended horror film, that while short on straight up scares, does aim for a sort-of realistic approach to fantastical concepts. Creative direction and fun performances make this a worthwhile Netflix viewing experience suitable for ages 17 and up.

Cthulhu Theater: Grabbers (2012)

Recently I have begun to gain a strong appreciation for horror films produced in other countries such as France, Korea and Finland. I also continue to be a sucker for tentacled-cult-elder-gods movies in the spirit of H.P. Lovecraft's popular fiction. Though Lovecraft's unique vision has yet to have been fully realized in any big budget straight adaptations of his own work, Lovecraft's influence is all over a number of horror movies, some with an explicit connection to his source material, and others with simply a visual nod to his creature designs and Cthulhu mythos. In most cases when movies are said to be "Lovecraftian," it is a reference to either the creature designs or the setting. Horror-comedy Grabbers (2012) directed by Jon Wright and written by Kevin Lehane meets those limited criteria in addition to possessing enough Lovecraftian tropes to suggest a strong influence by some of his literary works as well.

Come for the satire, stray for the
formulaic monster flick?

Set on a remote Irish island, the setting does indeed get dark, wet and suitably moody and the creatures are "tentacly" in design, but the film shares much more in spirit and pacing with Tremors (1990) or any number of the Nick Frost/Simon Pegg/Edgar Wright horror-action comedies of the past decade. Thanks in large part to the effective effects, a game ensemble cast of actors doing their best to enliven standard small town stereotypes (weird-old-timer, goofy-but-handsome-doctor type, grizzled detective and attractive newbie in town) and fine cinematography of the Irish coast, Grabbers does serve as an adequate snowy day distraction.

The one place the filmmakers would have seemed to have missed the boat is in product placement. Given its importance as a plot point (as well as carrying significance to the characterization of nearly every character in the film), Grabbers would have seemed natural for the pervasive alcohol use throughout have been sponsored by someone. If not for the fact that this film was made by Irish filmmakers (using partial funding from both the Irish Film Board and UK Film Council), it would be easy to dismiss the film's alcohol consumption as deus ex machina all too stereotypical jab at the Irish. But on some level, especially when one sees the promotional posters for the film's European theatrical release (above, left), Wright and Lehane do seem to be aspiring to some sort of satire with their film. The balance between humor, action, ad social commentary never seems natural or well developed enough in one direction.

Like many horror-comedies, its frustrating to realize halfway through that had a more focused approach been taken, say purely a horror one, the resulting film could have been infinitely more entertaining. This is evidenced by the handling of the creatures. The initial reveals of the tentacled creatures in a variety of stages (whether hiding in the corner of a licencing, or hatching from eggs) are very well realized and creepy. The drunk shtick (a town full of Irish folks--including the town priest--has just got to be funny, right?) and romance between the two characters (you just know will hook up by film's end) serve to dissipate the building tension and ameliorate the few scares that are here.

Entertaining, but with almost no rewatchability value, Grabbers (2012) is a completely satisfactory, ultimately forgettable, direct stream Netflix offering.

Standing in the middle of the street when our town is under attack
by large tentacled creatures is never a good idea.

Seen It: Superman/Shazam!: The Return of Black Adam (2010)

Generally, I tend to avoid animated comic book movies; not because I dislike them, but rather because they are frequently produced for younger/newer audiences who lack experience with characters, thus requiring drawn-out, modern and gritty origin stories. I was pleasantly surprised to stumble onto an animated movie, while "bagging-and-boarding" my own comic books, that avoids many of the pitfalls of other productions, both animated and live-action.

Consisting of four short films cumulatively referred to as the DC Showcase Original Shorts Collection, Superman/Shazam!: The Return of Black Adam (2010) is a true DC Showcase compilation, giving C-listers The Spectre, Green Arrow, and Jonah Hex 12 minutes each of well-deserved exposure using top animation and voice talent. All directed by Joaquim Dos Santos, each of the four shorts possess elements to recommend them individually.Taken as a singular viewing experience, the movie offers a broad sampler of DC Comics superheroes. While some may suggest that the title and cover of the DVD are misleading, as DC Comics most recognizable superhero, it makes sense that this release promotes the presence of Superman. While theirs is the longest segment, the DVD is much more than a Supes and Shazam show.

The featured short gives the viewer DC Comics mightiest heroes, Superman and Shazam (still called "Captain Marvel" when in superhero form here--a code name no longer used in the most recent comic book appearances) as they team up to battle the Wizard's greatest enemy, Black Adam. Serving as an introduction of Captain Marvel Shazam to modern fans, Clark Kent/Superman is used as a plot device to shepherd the updated origin, while allowing the short to maintain some of Shazam's more quirky character elements (such as Mister Tawky Tawney!).

An underutilized reality regarding the Superman character is that, given its near archetypal presence in our culture and the audience's familiarity with the him, there is a comfort in having the known "commodity" introduce us to the new guy. Superman's strong presence and It is established at the onset that protagonist (and future Shazam) Billy Batson has a deep appreciation and admiration of Superman, an appreciation that in many ways mirrors that of the viewer: he knows Supes is the good guy, and so do we, so there is no need for unnecessary back story. Clark/Superman serves as an excellent counterpoint to the newbie super hero that Billy becomes by invoking the Wizard's name.

A Freddy Krueger-esque "hero," the Spectre is NOT playing!

In all four shorts, the story jumps right into the action, wasting no time with back story: what you need to know about each is revealed through their actions and dialogue--as well as the occasional narration. This is a fine example of a filmmaker using a limited amount of time to maximize development of each character, even these as unfamiliar to the audience as the three included here. DC Showcase shorts respect the viewer's ability to figure out that which is important to understanding the important character flaws and strengths without being spoon-fed them. In many ways, these shorts suggest a wiser way for superhero films to be scripted by avoiding the redundant origins and understanding that in most cases, origin stories as formal introductions offer little that is new.

Visually, each short possess a slightly different tone or mood, often expressed in the music or, as is the case with the standout short featuring the Spectre, an aesthetic: where Superman/Shazam and Green Arrow are crisp clean and sharp in their presentation, the Spectre (reflecting the 1950s noir vibe) is grainy and washed out. Perhaps the greatest compliment I can pay DC Showcase is that previously, though I knew who each was I had minimal interest in The Spectre or Green Arrow ( I am a Hex fanboy), but came away from this movie with a renewed interest in at the very least exploring their monthly adventures in the comic books.

Superman/Shazam!: The Return of Black Adam (2010) is available for streaming on Netflix.

Seen It: Vengeance (2009)

Recently the unusual sub-genre of film that is the Asian (Korean/Japanese/Thai/Chinese) thriller has joined the (Spaghetti) Western as one of my favorites. Once in a blue moon, I get lucky and come across a movie which actually draws on elements of both "genres" effectively. How can can a Chinese movie starring a Frenchman set in modern Hong Kong be a "Western"? While a film such as Vengeance (2009) has a very definite Eastern setting, the movie's tone, characterization and aesthetic are, to this viewer, have an unmistakeably Western flair.

Directed by Johnnie To, from a script by Wai Ka-Fai, Vengeance (2009) stars French music icon Johnny Hallyday as Francis Costello, a grieving (and brooding) father who's daughter is victimized by three home invaders. To add to the trauma, his son-in-law and two young grandsons are also murdered in the pre-title assault.

A chef and restaurateur from France, Hallyday's character, with a suitably "secret past," is very much a fish out of water in the Chinese cities of Macau and Hong Kong. Relying on help from some unlikely allies, Costello seeks revenge for the senseless and brutal attack on his family. Further adding to the outsider dynamic, common in the majority of spaghetti westerns, is the revelation that Costello suffers from periodic memory-loss, a condition that necessitates his taking Polaroid pictures of the faces he needs to remember lest he forget them completely--and therefore re-meeting them throughout the film. Cognisant of his health condition which is the result of a previous "secret" activity, Costello acknowledges that at some point in the near future he will not even remember his daughter even as avenging her pain and loss becomes the focus of his existence.

As teased in the film trailer above, Chicago Sun-Times film critic Roger Ebert has called Vengeance "A Classic Western," and further wrote that the film had "certain parallels" with Clint Eastwood's 1992 film Unforgiven. The film has just as many parallels with some of Eastwood's much earlier westerns. Very much a "Man With No Name," Costello, as played by Hallyday (who at one point was culturally seen as France's equivalent to Elvis Presley), says little while ingratiating himself to the "locals" (translation: Chinese hit men) with whom he develops a deep bond. This bond is further developed when their shared history, and code, are revealed toward the middle of the film. Later, Hallyday is also befriended and assisted by a young women with many children who sees the good in his hear, despite his grisly mission of vengeance.

One thematic cornerstone of the Western present in Vengeance is the depiction of a society organized around codes of honor and personal, direct or private justice. Some other important production choices seem influenced by a desired western motif such as the dramatic staging of key showdowns, as well as the accompanying soundtrack written by Lo Tayu.

Part Western, part Asian Thriller, part character study, more than anything, Vengeance is a well-produced thriller with a number of twists, none of which are novelties, as each further enhances the story of Costello's drive toward revenge. This film is currently available for on-demand viewing on Netflix.

Sources:
Wikipedia

Seen It: Godzilla vs. SpaceGodzilla (1994)

After unsuccessfully trolling through Netflix for something (anything!) to catch my interest last evening, I came across Crackle on my Blue-Ray main screen. A free, sort of "low-rent" alternative to Netflix, Crackle seemed to present some pretty pedestrian films (many movies that are readily available on small screen cable outlets), except for one: a Godzilla collection for free viewing. Though it was small, it does contain a few (relatively) modern entries into the kaiju canon that I had neither seen as a child or caught on DVD. The one drawback to the Crackle service as a whole is the pop-up ads that drop into the movie every 10-15 minutes. (These are also unable to be skipped or fast forwarded thru).

I am by no means a Godzilla expert, just a fan, but the Godzilla featured in the first film I watched, Godzilla vs. SpaceGodzilla, is neither visually or character-wise the King of Monsters I remember... not that this is a bad thing, just different. For one thing, the ping-pong eyeballs and cartoonish antics of my childhood Godzilla, who I've since learned were actually officially part of the Shōwa series of Godzilla films. These include classics such as Godzilla vs. the Smog Monster Hedorah (1971), Godzilla vs. Megalon (1973), and Terror of Mechagodzilla (1975).

Produced (naturally) by Toho, Godzilla vs. SpaceGodzilla (1994) is directed by Kensho Yamashita and is part of the more contemporary Heisei series of films. The sixth of seven films, an important thing to know as much of the action and understanding of plot points is predicated on having at least a superficial awareness of prior films in the series. While I do possess a passing familiarity with two new characters, SpaceGodzilla and Moguera, from their appearance in X-Box's Godzilla: Save the Earth game, the intricacies of "who" and "why" were new ground for me... except of course the fact that the Big G and SpaceGodzilla somehow share some DNA simply because visually they look similair in basic design.

Minya update, Little Godzilla, sports an
interesting redesign but that does
not help against SpaceGodzilla.

Though the film had entertainment value for a Godzilla deprived, middle-aged soul such as myself, Godzilla vs. SpaceGodzilla (1994) is generally regarded as a weaker entry in the canon. Not completely blinded by fanboy love, I can understand why. For all that works well (giant monsters fighting, Little Godzilla, pretty solid acting and an extensive giant monster fight in the finale confrontation) there are some bizarre shifts in tone and editing-snafus (that can't possibly have been intended) that were just plain weird. For example, watch out for an early naked butt camera pan of the crusty old-Godzilla fighting veteran showering on Birth Island (Little Godzilla's home) as he is being watched by two other male characters. I can't make this up.

Yes, the Earth's latest defense
against Godzilla is a gigantic
robotic mole, Moguera.

According to sources online, this was one of the more poorly received Godzilla films and it is not difficult to see why. To get a taste of the kooky tonal shifts, just watch the trailer above for further evidence. You don't need to fluency in Japanese to wonder if the soundtrack got mixed up when a romantic ballad is dropped in from nowhere followed up by the Godzilla fight song. There is also one character, the one who showers naked in public apparently, who clearly has a friendly relationship with Little Godzilla (the two live alone on the island for an extended period of time) but spends stretches of the movie chasing adult Godzilla with a rifle and magic bullet made of "blood coagulants" intent on killing him. Mix in what I believe to be a "Space" Mothra character (with the space twin miniature pixies in tow), and you get the idea of what you're in for.

For any viewer for whom this is their first experience with the "real" Godzilla, one huge drawback is the apparent necessity for having seen previous films. Questions such as the identities and roles of  human characters and how the entities (G-Force?) coming into conflict with Godzilla (G-Force?) are never answered, or worse yet, even posed. It's very fair to say that one does not watch a film like this for the nuances of subtle storytelling, but to rely on so much background information is asking quite a bit of someone (unlike me) who is not already a fan on some level. If I didn't know who Mothra was in the first place, Space Mothra would have been impossible for me to figure out--heck, even so, I may be reaching to explain her inclusion in the plot.

While it was great that Crackle has given me something of an entre back to the King of Monsters, despite being entertained, actual understanding of what transpired required some online research to make this particular kaiju viewing experience is to make much sense.

Sources: Wikipedia

Seen It: Gamera: The Giant Monster (1965)

Released, over the past 40+(!) years with a variety of titles ranging from simply Gamera to the slightly more cumbersome (and obvious) Gamera: The Giant Monster, the original film directed by Noriaki Yuasa was Daiei Motion Picture Company's response to the success of Toho Studio's Godzilla. Not nearly as familiar as Toho's "kaiju" (strange beast), or more specifically, "daikaiju" (larger strange beasts) films, Gamera has been a longtime success in Japan. Begetting ten or so sequels, as well as a short lived mid-Nineties Dark Horse comic book series, as well as multiple other media appearances, Gamera has come nowhere near the status of Godzilla among mainstream American moviegoers. For those appreciative of pre-CGI monster movies, and non-geek film fans, too, though Gamera is likely a creature you have yet to have met, despite prior Mystery Science Theater 3000 roasting, this original film is well-worth checking out.

As a child in the late Seventies, when WUHF Channel 31 went on air in upstate New York, I recall seeing this "monster movie" and automatically assuming it was from the same film world as Godzilla. They were both giant monsters with Japanese adversaries, so they must be giant creature friends after all, right? At that age, the idea of competing monster-verses had little bearing on the fact that there was yet another big monster out there to follow. Though a member of my neighborhood Godzilla fan-club, Gamera always had an air of mystery as he was much less well covered in monster magazines. That, of course, made him an intriguing, if inaccessible, movie monster. (My brother, ever the contraraian, claimed Gamera as his favorite giant monster at the time.)

Thankfully, Gamera: The Giant Monster is available on DVD from Netflix (no web streaming, yet), and the edition sent, a re-release from 2010 on DVD through Shout! Factory in a beautiful transfer of "the original Japanese version of Gamera with new English subtitles and anamorphic wide screen from an all-new HD master created from vault elements." (Amazon.com) Surprisingly well-shot, with some fascinating camera work, the movie does suffer from some extremely wooden American performances. As the first Daikaiju I have seen in Japanese with subtitles, it was a curious and interesting viewing experience. And, yes, while Gamera is indeed a man-n-suit, the performance is solid. Unlike Godzilla, Gamera is actually the star of his own movie, appearing throughout rather than simply in set pieces filling out an otherwise human-centric story--though one or two of those is present as well. The DVD also includes several neat-o extras. In addition to the perfunctory "Trailer" (the same as seen above), there is also an informative short making-of featurette which includes archival interviews with the director, writer and creature designers. The story of how the creature was inspired by a producers vision of a flying tortoise is and especially interesting anecdote shared therein.

Gamera: The Giant Monster (1965) is summarized thusly on Netflix:

Set free from an icy sleep by a nuclear explosion in the Arctic, a massive flying turtle named Gamera travels to Tokyo and begins a destructive rampage in this first installment of the sci-fi action series starring the fire-breathing reptile. Initial efforts to stop the creature fail, but after Gamera rescues a young boy, the two form a sympathetic bond -- which may aid authorities in their quest to subdue the beast using their "Plan Z."

Whether through purchase or Netflix rental, Gamera offers an entertaining view at Cold War movie making with a rampaging giant monster--what better way to spend a winter's day?

Seen It (Again): The Class (2008)

The second of the five documentaries I offered for my students to view and briefly analyze is The Class (Entre les murs) (2008). Based on the 2006 novel of the same name by François Bégaudeau, this film is a semi-autobiographical "sort-of-documentary" account of a year in the author's life as a middle school French teacher in an urban Parisian school. (When I say "French," think your English class.)

I was struck by how similarly the experiences of students, teachers and parents in French public schools mirror those of individuals in American public schools. The majority of the challenges that François encountered were very reminiscent of my own experiences regarding classroom behavior, parent-teacher conferences and exhausted colleagues.

A unique facet of the film is that there are few black and white "characters." I'd go so far as to suggest that François is, himself, (though a seemingly good-natured soul if not always so toward his students) a fairly poor educator who shows little ability to reflect on his weakness as a facilitator of learning... like I mentioned, this film is very realistic. Interestingly, the film, HIS film, does not paint him as a savior to the urban culture... which in the day and age of superhero teacher fantasy films such as the manipulative Freedom Writers, is in itself refreshing.

A compelling film for anyone interested in our (The US of A) educational system, or those who are interested in seeing that despite being in a distant part of the world how similar the human experience among like nations can be despite perceived differences.

Viewing Suggestion: Avoid the dubbed version like the plague... the dubbed voice performances are terrible. It is well worth training yourself to read and watch to get the full experience.

The Class (Entre les murs) (2008) is available locally for rent through both the Monroe County (NY) Public Library System and Netflix.

Seen It (Again): The Garden (2008)

With our seven day Winter Recess taking place this last week of December, and having recently completed an extensive exemplification essay, I invited my AP students to earn some additional credit by taking in one of five prescribed documentary films.

The Task: while viewing one fop the films, students are being asked to track instances in whicc the filmmaker attempted to engage one of the three appeals (ethos, pathos, logos) through the use of music, imagery, and dialogue. After completing a graphic organizer of their observations, students are then being asked to develop three high level questions for use in testing one another regrading the use of the three appeals in documentary film making. Though I had already seen four of the five--with Waiting for Superman (2011) being the lone exception--it was time for me to revisit these films for myself.

I first came across the trailer for The Garden while perusing the online home of Oscilloscope Laboratories, the small film distribution company founded by the Late Adam Yauch (aka MCA) of the music group The Beastie Boys. After seeing the trailer I immediately connected it with the book Seedfolks by Paul Fleischman, a book I had previously taught in eighth grade. Both the film and the book deal with a community garden. Unlike Fleischman's book, however, The Garden is a true story, and as Ernest Hemingway famously said, "All  true stories end in death." This film is not about the death of any one individual, but the passing of an ideal.

In the wake of the 1992 Los Angeles riots, hundreds of mostly Mexican-American families came together and turned a blighted corner of South Central Los Angeles into a 14 acre urban oasis—complete with guavas, papayas and enough fruit and vegetables to feed hundreds of families.

Directed by Scott Hamilton Kennedy, The Garden (2008) is the unflinching look at the struggle between urban farmers and the City of Los Angeles and a powerful developer who wants to evict them and build warehouses. The urban farmers consist primarily of immigrants from Latin American countries where they feared for their lives if they were to speak out. The film follows them as they organize, fight back, and demand a response to the question of, "Where is our 'Justice for all'?"

As aptly summarized on to the film's Facebook page, "The Garden explores the fault lines in American Society. It is the story of the country’s largest urban farm, backroom politics, land developers, money, poverty and power. If everyone told you nothing more could be done, would you give up?"

The Garden is currently available for instant viewing and rental via Netflix, or to be purchased on DVD.

Seen It: The Valley of Gwangi (1969)

Like many in my generation, as a youth Saturday afternoons were spent in large part watching monster movies. Of course, back then the phrase "monster movie" was a more all-encompassing term which was inclusive of any Saturday afternoon matinee on the local independent television station.

Titles ranged from the Universal Monsters (favorites included Werewolf of London (1935) and Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man (1943)), Japanese monsters such as Godzilla and Gamera, and anything "starring" Ray Harryhausen, especially either of his earlier Sinbad films, The 7th Voyage of Sinbad (1958) or The Golden Voyage of Sinbad (1973). Harryhausen wasn't an actor, but something even better: a special effects wizard featured prominently in many of the Hollywood sci-fi and monsters magazines my brother and I favored as youths. He was was indeed the star of the movies that featured his creations.

Recently while recently doing some reading around classic "mash-ups" (a film defined as a creative combination or mixing of content from different sources, or in this particular case, genres) I came across a film title that I had often read about in old Hollywood special effects books, but had somehow never seen. Featuring the last Harryhausen's prehistoric-themed film work, The Valley of Gwangi (1969), had somehow missed my discerning 10 year-old eye, but the black and white movie stills from books of cowboys lassoing Tyrannosaurs had not.

Soon after entering my Netflix queue, a poor quality transfer of The Valley of Gwangi (1956) landed in my mailbox for my viewing pleasure. Time and nostalgia have a way of making even the weakest of films seem special and I suspect that was why I enjoyed what is generally regarded as a poor film. Directed by Jim O'Connolly and starring James Franciscus as the heroic Tuck, Gwangi is one-third Western, one-third action-adventure and one-third Harryhausen magic; any guesses as to which part works best? There is also some romance mixed in for good measure, as well as a beautiful lead actress, Gila Golan, who's accent was so thick that her lines were redubbed. The story would likely be seen by modern audiences as cookie-cutter, but only because so many of its best images have been lifted in homage in other, more successful films, most notably Jurassic Park (1993).

A moderately entertaining diversion, The Valley of Gwangi, while definitely worth catching on AMC, it may not be very successful with children who have been raised on CGI effects. In the case of those viewers, unfortunately, Harryhausen's work here is likely to elicit giggles in the same amounts it brings a warm sense of nostalgia to those of us who fondly remember his truly wonderful movie work.

The Valley of the Gwangi is available for rental in DVD format from Netflix.

Read It: The Facial Hair Handbook

With my days as a "competitive" road racing in the rear view mirror perhaps its time to explore a new arena of competition: competitive bearding. This thought first occurred to me when I was introduced to beard icon (and two-time World Beard Champion) Jack Passion in one segment of Morgan Spurlock's documentary Mansome (2012) on Netflix recently. It was only after it had stopped airing that I came to know about the IFC reality show Whisker Wars in whcih he is prominently featured.

In need of some light reading during my a recent flight west, I picked up Passion's slight tome entitled The Facial Hair Handbook as a means of wiling away an hour or two. While the book does indirectly walk us through he preparations necessary to "compete" at a high level, it does not place us directly in combat with Passion, something Spurlock's film does to moderately entertaining effect. Of course, this facet of Passion's competitive life is at the center of Whisker Wars, so maybe he felt it woudl be redundant.

Self-published by the author, The Facial Hair Handbook runs only 105 pages and offers some basics about simply growing facial hair as well as some finer tips for taking your "game" to the next level. Thus the book's subtitle "Every man's Guide to Growing and Grooming Great Facial Hair." What entertainment that is derived from reading is derived from Passion's anecdotes and witticisms about being a beard icon, as well as his "Laws of Facial Hair," the reason behind which are sprinkled throughout. In many ways, The Facial Hair Handbook is an excellent example of info-tainment, though the intended audience woudl appear to be somewhat limited.

In the introduction to the book, Beard Team USA Captain Phil Olsen presents Passion as the sport of bearding equivalent to Tiger Woods. Passion's bravado and confidence do little to dissuade the reader that he is "all that and a bag of chips." In fact, it would seem that it is Jack's "swagger," mentioned multiple times in reviews and blurbs, that ingratiates him to a world not quite ready to accept this new "sport" as legitimate.

While the grooming tips, product suggestion, and prompts to visit his website [Note: a quick check on 11/9/17 reveals that the site has not been updated in many moons] result in a quick and informative read, the book I really wanted to read was about Passion's travels across the country to bars for small-time contests, and around the planet bringing home the World Championship. This book, taken in concert with the segment from Manscape, hint at what could be an exciting tale I hope Passion elects to one day tell. Based on this book, all that has to happen is for enough buying customers to ask. Though Whisker Wars covers some of that desired ground, Passion is gleefully painted as the "villain" so much of his more extensive journey, I suspect, remains as yet untold.

Meditation, Prisons & Public Schools?

Last week while listening to a locally produced PBS radio show, WXXI 1370 Connection, there was a segment entitled "School's In Session (Almost); What's Ahead" discussing the challenges of our city's school district. During the last 10 minutes of the program, a caller mentioned a film and strategy for implementation that might offer some relief to troubled segments of the student population. He suggested that host Bob Smith's guest, executive director of the Monroe County School Boards Association Jody Siegle, check out the documentary, The Dhamma Brothers (2009). The caller's suggestion was to consider the film's core idea, the use of non-secular meditation as an antidote top recklessness and violence in a correctional facility, to develop a similar program for use in our troubled public schools.



As the documentary's subtitle ("East Meets West in the Deep South") implies, The Dhamma Brothers is set in the deep south, but not just any part of the South, but in an Alabama penitentiary. The East/West angle comes into play as the documentary follows the efforts of teachers and inmates to exact a degree of personal and cultural change when it becomes the first maximum-security prison in North America to hold an extended Vipassana retreat, an emotionally and physically demanding course of silent meditation lasting ten days.

Focusing on the potential for transformation in the most horrific environment possible, Dhamma Brothers follows and documents the stories of the prison inmates at Donaldson Correction Facility who enter into this arduous and intensive program. The emphasis of the film, as well as the meditative strategy, was reflection on one's actions. If, as has been suggested, meditation is "finding the medicine for the sickness we have created by ourselves," can focused discipline contribute to an individual's rehabilitation?

While it seems a jump, taking an approach used in prisons in elementary and secondary public schools, the idea of teaching youth meditation is not completely new. While Ms. Seigle suggested that some schools in our area currently teach meditation (I could find no evidence online of this), there are programs in other schools that hint at the potential for success.

Among the varied experiences I have had as an educator is teaching (GED, pre-release) programs in a number of different correctional (men's and women's prisons, county jail) facilities. My thoughts regarding the value of introducing meditation techniques to at-risk students, hold true relative to its value for the incarcerated. The terrible anguish, anger and sadness is palpable in these places, and while some might suggest this lot in life is a deserved consequence, there is some validity to mediation's ability to contribute to a sounder, safer persona and prison community.

The online article, "Why Our Children Should Be Taught to Meditate in School" by Richard Schiffman, delineates some reasons why meditation would be beneficial for students to learn. Interestingly, some of the negative behaviors meditation might combat are behaviors that softening school codes are now supporting such as the "...damaging are the habits which they (electronic devices in the classroom) inculcate in the young -- the surfing mentality which is always looking restlessly toward the next image, message or sensation."

Fascinating stuff that is worthy of deeper exploration and consideration. My hope is that some educator with the mojo necessary to research and pilot something like this will do so. While there is much information to process in achieving a firm grasp on the application of meditation to public school curriculum (exactly "how" or "why"), the initial anecdotal evidence (see links below) would seem to suggest that the "why not?" question is worth seeking a response to.

The Dhamma Brothers is available for streaming (or DVD) on Netflix.

Recommended related links:

• Changing Your Brain Through Meditation: ABCNEWS.COM - Dan Harris looks into making yourself a nicer person by re-wiring your brain.
  Mindfulness and Meditation in Schools for Stress Management by Greater Good Magazine
• 9 Reasons Why Meditation Should Be Allowed In Public Schools by The Daily Heal online magazine
• Zen for High Schoolers: ‘Notice the Anxiety. Notice the Fear.’ by Aidan Gardiner
• N.Y. EDN. LAW § 3029-a : NY Code - Section 3029-A: Silent meditation in public schools

Seen It: Navajo Joe (1966)

Just as Italian directors like Sergio Leone hired American actors such as Clint Eastwood and Charles Bronson to play clearly "American" drifter-gunman, some "before-they-were stars" actors got their starts playing Native American (Indian) leads. One such example is the Burt Reynolds starrer, Navajo Joe (1966) directed by Sergio Corbucci; who would follow up this film with the genre defining Django (1966). Because Reynolds was a rising star who was himself part-Cherokee, he made the perfect choice for producer Dino De Laurentis' follow up to the Eastwood/Leone collaboration A Fistful of Dollars.

It's always worth mentioning that along for the ride was Ennio Morricone who scored the film but is credited under the name Leo Nichols. As is often the case with Morricone's scores, Navajo Joe's beats have been lifted for many later films, most noticeably (as always seems to be the case) by Quentin Tarentino in his  Kill Bill (2003) movies.

The story is standard for the genre: after being wronged by a band of scalp hunters, Joe hunts down the gang and in the process uncovers a plot to rob a train. Despite being leery of the Indian, the townspeople who receive the money hire Joe to stop the robbery. Check out an interesting (and brief) Turner Classic Movies article about Navajo Joe here for some more educated insight regarding the film.

The layman's review? Navajo Joe is not nearly as offensive as its un-PC title might have you believe--there is quite a bit of subtle reverence paid to Joe's non-descript heritage--and the young Reynolds is quite charismatic in an early role that he would later disavow. As far as Netflix films go, you could spend evenings in much less entertaining ways than with this strong Spaghetti Western. At worst, it can provide a gateway film experience to stronger films it is influenced by (as well as influencing).

Seen It: Death Rides A Horse (1967)

  It's that sixth of five defenseless people you kill that always grows up to be a good shot and hunt you down...
After watching one too many killer hillbilly movies (one set in Europe, no less!), I recently sought to cleanse my visual pallet with a good ol' fashioned Spaghetti Western. This is not always an easy thing to do on Netflix--especially if you don't already have a title in mind. Following a few clumsy minutes "searching" around on the que (via my X-Box), I decided to re-watch a previously viewed classic, Death Rides a Horse (1967).

Though directed by Giulio Petroni, it is the twin "presences" of star Lee Van Cleef and composer Ennio Morricone that make Death Rides A Horse a clear thematic (and visual and musical) follow-up to Leone's Man With No Name trilogy. In the Eastwood-role is John Phillip Law, later of Barbarella (1968) fame, as Bill Meceita, a man whose family was murdered in front of him as a child by a gang, who 15 years later sets out to exact revenge.

Van Cleef plays Ryan, a recently released from prison gunfighter on his own quest for vengeance, who knows more than he says about Bill's tragedy (a plot point revealed early on when Ryan turns up at the Meceita homestead burial ground soon after getting out of the hoosegow.

Because this film lapsed into public domain years ago, it has been widely viewed via YouTube and any number of inexpensive Spaghetti Western DVD/Blueray collections (I actually have it in two seperate collections alone--though the transfer quality is poor).

Despite lacking the name recognition of the Eastwood/Leone films among the mainstream US moviegoer, among film geeks, it is stands as a classic of sorts. Movie-geek god Quentin Tarentino used many of the motifs, scenes, as well as some of Morricone's score, to great effect in his Kill Bill (2003/2004) films. It is with a film aficionados eye (and ear) that Death Rides a Horse is perhaps best viewed as it pales greatly by comparison to the Eastwood/Leone movies htough Van Cleef is never boring and always brings the "bad-a**" to the rodeo.

Still, as far as "cool" Netflix Westerns (NOT an oxymoron!) go, you could do much worse on a cold winter's day. For a more in depth consideration of Death Rides A Horse, I would strongly suggest the Spaghetti Western Data base's film page here.

Cthulhu Theater: In the Mouth of Madness (1995)

While many enjoy their horror in one of the more mainstream sub-genres (zombies, vampires, and torture), I continue to be a sucker for tentacled-loving-cult-elder-gods movies in the spirit of H.P. Lovecraft's popular fiction. Though Lovecraft's unique vision has yet to have been fully realized in any big budget straight adaptations of his own work, the Lovecraft influence is all over a number of "horror movies," some with an explicit connection to his source material, and others with simply a visual nod to his creature designs and Cthulhu mythos. The intent of this (and future) "Cthulu Theater" posts is to briefly visit and review some of these films.

This first movie is one I had long sought out at my local video stores and libraries with no success. Thanks to the magic of Netflix, I finally came across it this past weekend, though whether I'm glad to have done so or not is yet to be determined..

Directed by "legendary" horror film maker John Carpeter, from a script by Michael De Luca, the R-Rated In the Mouth of Madness (1995) is a love letter of sorts to all things Lovecraft. Starring (though I had never really thought of it until I lined-up these titles side-by-side) genre regular Sam Neill (Omen III: The Final Conflict, Jurassic Parks 1 and 3, Daybreakers, Event Horizon) stars as John Trent who, employing just the first of many common Lovecraft tropes, tells his story almost entirely in flashback from a sanitarium. Trent is a detective who is hired to locate, in what was I'm sure intended to be clever satire, famed horror writer Stephen King Sutter Cane (Jürgen Prochnow), who has mysteriously dissappeared with his most recent novel--one (as the tag line assures us repeatedly) that is guaranteed to "drive the readers mad." It is the return of this novel, written start to finish in a single draft by typewriter, and the uncovering of Cane's "disappearance," that provides the narrative thurst of the film.

This impetus is primarily set-up for what follows, a series of set pieces that lead us, and Trent, to a small New England town (very much like Innsmouth in Lovecraft's "world") where he comes face-to-face with most of the problems you'd expect him to in a film intent on aping Lovecraft: mutated townspeople, time-space contiuum snafus, cult churches and low-budget elder-gods. In fact, if you've read any of the source material, you'll likely see far in advance the conclusion this film is lumbering toward. If you are unfamiliar with H.P. Lovecraft's writing, you can look forward to a film that is as much a tribute to the late 1980s (I know it was released in 1995, but as directed by Carpenter there is a definite old-old school vibe here) as it is Lovecraft. Most of the horror elements thar make it into the film are simple "jump scares", and the practical Cthulhu character-effects, when they do eventually make an appearance--sort of--are poorly executed. There are some vaguley uncomfortable very early-genre body horror moments (extremely tame by today's standards), but too few instances  of real dread, anticipation or terror. The attempt at a psychological element, and thus making it a "smart" horror film--which it really ain't--seems forced and overly clever.

Online, this movie is beloved as "the best horrot movie ever" and "a return to form by the director," but this viewer doesn't quite understand the praise, except to suspect that there is such an absence of this type of fil out there that even this is acceptable as "good."  Mildly entertaining? Yes. A neat glimpse at late 80's horror? Yes. Scary enough to drive you mad? Nope. As mentioned earlier, though I had looked for this film to watch for a number of years, I ultimately found myself disappointed. Much like Trent's character arc in the film, my journey to eventually finding the movie proved to be more entertaining than reaching the destination.

Seen It: Meek's Cutoff (2011)

This past weekend's I took advantage of a little down time to catch up on one of the more recent "Westerns" that had been on my radar, Meek's Cutoff (2011). Seen in limited release earlier this summer, Meek's Cutoff starts Michelle Williams (Oscar-nominated for Brokeback Mountain), Bruce Greenwood and a number of character actors, including Cowboys v. Aliens' Paul Dano, you'd likely recognize as having seen before. This film could best be described as a revisionist western as it takes a slow, methodical, realistic look at the lives of two families who are traveling the Oregon Trail west guided by Steven Meek, portrayed here by Greenwood.

I have been a fan of Greenwood's since first seeing him many moons ago in Atom Egoyan's Exoctica (1994) and The Sweet Hereafter (1997). As Meek, Greenwood plays the archetypal male frontiersman complete with long beard, gravelly voice, rough attire and oozing a European disdain for all things Native--especially all things not already tamed by American settlers. If there is a "villain" in this film, it is Meek, but as in many modern westerns, the lines between good and evil, right and wrong, are very grey, and are at the very least, situational.

The choices Meek makes may appear on the surface (and certainly by modern sensibilities) "mean", given the character's historical context, are easily defendable. Additionally, that modern trope of "native v. visitor," makes its expected appearance as the group faces internal strife over the treatment of a lone Native American (Rod Rondeaux) interloper. "The Cayuse" (as the character is called in the credits) may or may not be the savior of the group as they wander along the Oregon Trail guided by Meek's who himself seems to be uncertain as to just where he is going.

Likely the most frustrating aspect of the film, especially to those anticipating a traditional western, is the lack of payoff provided by the script. Without giving away too much, it is enough to say that when the film ends, it ends... out of nowhere and with no clear resolution to the primary narrative drive of the story. That is not to suggest Meek's Cutoff is unwatchable. Quite the contrary, it is a beautifully filmed with tremendous vistas and (one can only assume) very realistic stark depictions of the conditions, both environmental and interpersonal, experienced by those who challenged the Oregon Trail in the interest of pursuing a better life.

In the end, I found Meek's Cutoff to be a sparse, deeply meditative, but ultimately unfulfilling observation of the westward ho!" American experience. Not without artistic merit, I'm sorry to report that as a film entertainment, it was something of a chore.

Movie Review: Being There (1979)

If having Netflix has taught me anything, it's that there really is nothing good on television. We don't have "cable," per se, though we do have the basic package of ten channels just so we can see the local news and "regular" television. Last week when I was struggling to find something worth placing in my queue for home delivery, I happened upon Being There (1979). (While I would consider myself a fan of late Sixties-Seventies American movies, sometimes my ability to recall films worth watching is lacking.)

Though I was only ten when this came out in theaters, I do vaguely remember my parents looking forward to seeing it when it eventually made its way to HBO about a year later. Peter Sellers' Inspector Clouseau movies were always playing at our home, but I had little interest in watching what appeared to be a "big peoples" movie. I am glad I came back to it now that I am a just a tad "bigger" myself.

Directed by Hal Ashy, Being There stars Peter Sellers as Chance the gardener, who mistakenly becomes re-branded during the film as Chauncey Gardiner. Seventies movie regular Jack Warden plays the current POTUS and Shirley MacLaine is the wife of the elderly millionaire (Oscar Winner for Best Supporting Actor that year, Melvyn Douglas) who unwittingly brings Chauncey to international acclaim. Both Sellers and MacLaine give haunting, yet hopeful, performances, supported by a solid cast of supporting actors all doing very good work.

Following the death of his employer, the illiterate and dim-witted Chance, whose only education and contact with the outside world for the entirety of his life has been what he has learned through incessantly watching television, finds himself with no home, job or family. Given his naivete, this situation bothers him not in the least.

Following a series of unusual circumstances, Chance, now dubbed Chauncey Gardiner, finds himself living with Ben (Douglas) and Eve (MacLaine) Rand. Because of his plain spoken approach to life (in truth it is all he is capable of ) and sweet disposition, Chance find himself acting as a confidante to the President of the United States (Warden).

This film also has two things I did not see coming: First, Shirley MacLaine is a wonderful actress capable of being fragile, sexy and sad. My only memories of MacLaine on screen are movies like Steel Magnolias and I had not expected this from her. Secondly, the last seen is one of the most thought provoking (and open to interpretation) WTF scenes I can recall.

The bottom line? If you enjoyed Forrest Gump, and enjoy solid satire, you could do MUCH worse than taking a chance on Being There.

Seen It: The Lone Ranger (1956)

In an effort to further expand my Western-themed horizons, I recently went backwards via Netflix to the "old-school", Clayton Moore/Jay Silverheels vehicles of the 1950s, starting first with The Lone Ranger (1956) and continuing on to it's sequel The Lone Ranger and the Lost City of Gold (1958). Like most, I have long been familiar with the Ranger's iconography, especially as exemplified by Moore's legendary turn, but have been hesitant about watching the television source material for fear of the potneital for a high level of camp.

I really could not have been more misguided in that assumption as both film both stand up well, especially as family entertainment, and demonstrate a respect for the source material.

While the farthest thing from the modern "gritty" westerns of the last fifteen (think Unforgiven and Deadwood) years, both Lone Ranger movies illustrate both Moore and Jay Silverheels, as Tonto, reverence for the characters they portrayed, in addition to featuring some beautiful Western vistas and traditional storytelling without succumbing to camp. I especially enjoyed watching Moore take on different alternate characters within the context of each film as the Ranger disguises himself (in The Lone Ranger as a comic-relief old-timer and in Lost City of Gold as a competitor for the affections of the lead--spolier alert!--villianess). It would be erroneous to dismiss the talents Moore brought to the role that he so loved that he took it on for the remainder of his life.