Review #1,435: 'Night of the Creeps' (1986)

Fred Dekker's Night of the Creeps is only of many 80's horror movies that failed to find much of an audience upon its initial release, but has gathered a cult following over the subsequent years through scuzzy VHS tapes passed between fans and late-night showings on cable TV. It's now available on near enough every format, so you have no excuse not to check out this endearing little gem, especially if you're a fan of genre film-making and movies of the 80s in general. Dekker, who made his debut here and would go on to direct The Monster Squad and Robocop 3, is clearly a fan of horror movies and blends many of his favourite influences into the increasingly gory events. The result is a blast for fans, who'll enjoy spotting the name-drops amongst the various characters and the way it sticks closely to the rules of the genre. Yet Night of the Creeps can also feel like a bunch of your favourite movies re-arranged and plastered together to form an admittedly fun 90 minutes.

In the 1950s, an alien craft carrying slug-like creatures crashes down to Earth. At a nearby lover's lane, a boy heads out into the woods to investigate and comes across a canister, which naturally explodes in his face and unleashes the squirmy extra-terrestrials, one of which makes its way inside the unsuspecting boy orally. The girl, who is left behind in the car, meets an unfortunate demise at the hands of an escaped serial killer before a rookie cop blows the mad man away. Fast-forward to 1986, and teenager Chris Romero (Jason Lively) wants desperately to hook up with sorority girl Cynthia Cronenberg (Jill Whitlow). Backed by his best friend J.C. (Steve Marshall), the clueless twosome figure that the only way to impress Cynthia is to join a fraternity. To enter the Beta Epsilon fraternity - which is headed by Cynthia's douchebag of a boyfriend - Chris and J.C. are tasked with stealing a corpse from the nearby medical centre and placing it front of a sorority house. They break in easily enough, but what awaits them is the cryogenically frozen body of the unfortunate boy from the opening scene. Naturally, the cadaver escapes, and soon enough the town is overrun with zombies and giant slugs looking for a host.

There's a real energy and spirit to Dekker's film that is lacking from many low-budget horror movies from the same era, but what drags the movie down is a lack of any original ideas of its own. While there's fun to be had with spotting references to other (and better) films (Dick Miller even shows up for an obligatory cameo), this can often feel like a lazy way to patch up the lack of anything fresh. They also missed a trick by relegating beaten-down detective Cameron (Tom Atkins) to a supporting character. He has all the best lines and Atkins is clearly enjoying himself in the role, so you can only wonder how better the film would have been if our guide was an emotionally-scarred and wise-cracking old dog rather than a couple of sad-sack horny teenagers looking to impress a girl. That said, Night of the Creeps delivers exactly what its target audience - those still awake in the early hours - requires, and manages to round-up practically everything that is charming about low-budget 80's B-movies, even touching on the teen sex comedies made popular by the likes of Porky's. It perfectly sets itself up for a sequel before its box-office returns put a quick end to that idea, but it's never too late.


Directed by: Fred Dekker
Starring: Jason Lively, Tom Atkins, Steve Marshall, Jill Whitlow, Wally Taylor
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,434: 'The Human Centipede 3 (Final Sequence)' (2015)

When The Human Centipede was released back in 2009, it became an instant talking point with both gore-hounds giddy at the prospect of such a repugnant idea actually making its way onto our screens, and those concerned with the idea of cinema reaching the very bottom of the barrel for the last dregs of bad taste. Of course, the result was nowhere near as horrific as many had thought. While it may have featured a scene of characters passing faeces directly from bottom to mouth, the whole thing was rather amusing, if ineptly made. Director Tom Six was keen to ensure that the hype wouldn't die down for the sequel, and did so by creating one of the vilest and most humourless shockers in horror history, and undoubtedly one of worst excuses for a movie ever made. It's a relief that humour has found its way back for part three, as is the presence of the word 'final' in its title. But that's where the positives end, as this is yet another button-pushing, attention-seeking vanity-project for Six.

Psychopathic prison warden Bill Boss (Dieter Laser) rules over his inmates with an iron fist, punishing those that step out of line by breaking bones, removing testicles, and waterboarding with boiling water. With the violence spinning out of control, Governor Hughes (Eric Roberts) pays Boss a visit, informing the maniac that if he doesn't get a hold on things soon he will be fired and replaced. Having seen his brutal methods fail to bring the prisoners under control, Boss finally listens to his diminutive accountant Butler (Laurence R. Harvey) and his problem-solving idea. Armed with DVDs of The Human Centipede 1 and 2, Butler's scheme is to force the inmates to live out their sentences arse-to-mouth with their fellow incarcerates in one long, horrifying... well, you get the idea. With disgraced, struck-off prison doctor Jones (Clayton Rohner) on board in the hope of keeping his job, Boss and Butler even bring in Tom Six himself to discuss whether or not the director's claim of the procedure being 100% medically accurate is in fact correct.

It was admittedly an interesting move to make The Human Centipede 2 about a disturbed individual's reaction to seeing the first movie, but performing the same trick again simply reeks of narcissism, especially considering Six's decision to place himself within the narrative. While the second entry aimed to simply upset and disgust its audience with no trace of nuance, part three is all about the humour. Although rather than laughing, you'll be checking the running time to see how much you have left to endure. To Six, comedy is all about shouting, and Laser screams, rants and swears for the 100 minutes, stopping occasionally to munch on some dried clitorises imported from Africa or force his assistant Daisy (porn actress Bree Olson) to perform oral sex on him. Anyone voluntarily watching this film are here for one reason - to see the human centipede. It appears around the 85 minute mark, so there's a lot of arm-waving and general unpleasantness to get through before the big pay-off, which only appears on screen for about 5 minutes. I never thought I'd complain about the lack of poor souls being monstrously stitched together to form one grotesque digestive system, but that's The Human Centipede for you. Hopefully this series can now be laid to rest on the cinematic dung-pile.


Directed by: Tom Six
Starring: Dieter Laser, Laurence R. Harvey, Eric Roberts, Robert LaSardo, Bree Olson
Country: USA

Rating: *

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,433: 'Dead End Drive-In' (1986)

After the global success of low-budget exploitation flick Mad Max, the Australian film industry underwent a revolution, built mainly around fast cars, a rebellious attitude, and a satirical look at the 'dangerous' youth of the day, all within a post-apocalyptic, near-future setting. One of the directors at the forefront of the Ozploitation movement was Brian Trenchard-Smith, the man behind such cult classics as Turkey Shoot, BMX Bandits and The Man from Hong Kong. The director referred to his best work, Dead End Drive-In, as a mixture of Mad Max and Luis Bunuel's The Exterminating Angel, and although he was clearly over-reaching by comparing his film to two established classics, there's much more going on here than punk teenagers, souped-up classic cars and boobs. Yes, Dead End Drive-In is just as concerned with social and economic commentary as it is with loud music, B-movies and vehicles smashing into each other.

In the near-future, society has crumbled amidst economic collapse, and small gangs of mohawked ne'er-do-wells scour the cities for car parts. With manufacturing at an all-time low, cars are now a commodity so criminals cruise the streets looking for accidents in the hope of swiping rare parts for profit or to pimp out their own method of transportation, while rival salvage companies battle it out for scraps. Workout junkie Crabs (Ned Manning) has little trouble getting his hands on an impressive ride - his burly older brother possesses a 1956 Chevy - and he manages to persuade his sibling to loan him the chick-magnet for a date with his girlfriend Carmen (Natalie McCurry). A night at the flea-pit local cinema followed by a night of steamy passion is clearly on Crabs' mind, but this particular drive-in has a little secret. Surrounded by high fences and S-roads that don't permit walking, the drive-in is actually a concentration camp that keeps its inhabitants - horny, trouble-making teenagers - prisoner. While the residents of the graffiti-laden hellhole appear content with their responsibility-free existence of booze, drugs and sex, Crabs does everything he can to persuade the creepy owner (Peter Whitford) to help him escape.

Described as a sort-of offbeat Mad Max clone upon its release, the comparisons to George Miller's grindhouse favourite seem a little lazy. While both films share a fetish for automobiles and a concern for the economic climate, the only other similarities are the accents and a grungy aesthetic. Dead End Drive-In doesn't litter the story with action scenes, and although it is book-ended by some impressive stunt-work, the film takes it down a gear during the middle section to explore the madness of Crabs' situation. The idea of a makeshift concentration camp for the apparently disenchanted youth is interesting enough, but the crazy idea that the prisoners within the walls are in fact happy to stay lend the film a unique and rather pleasantly maddening tone. If you've ever been stuck within a dream where nobody can understand you, you'll empathise with Crabs' plight, despite his unfortunate nickname. While the dip in pacing may infuriate exploitation fans hoping to see leather-clad warriors of the apocalypse battling it out on jacked-up vehicles, it only increased my curiosity, and while Trenchard-Smith doesn't explore its themes with enough care to make the film truly resonate, Dead End Drive-In is one of the more thought-provoking and off-kilter efforts from the age of Ozploitation.


Directed by: Brian Trenchard-Smith
Starring: Ned Manning, Natalie McCurry, Peter Whitford, Wilbur Wilde
Country: Australia

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,432: 'The Grinch' (2000)

Although his popularity is unrivalled in the US, children's author and illustrator Dr. Seuss is considerably less popular in the UK, where instead Roald Dahl occupies this role as creator of wonderful stories to inspire and influence the imaginations of children across the country. However, this hasn't prevented Ron Howard's The Grinch, or How the Grinch Stole Christmas, from becoming a beloved Christmas movie and establishing itself as a regular feature across the channels over the holidays. Having read the joyful story by Dr. Seuss, which manages to pack in a welcome message about the true importance of Christmas alongside The Grinch's journey from the feared monster at the top of the mountain to humbled hero with a heart two sizes bigger, I fail to understand how anybody can find any magic in this overwrought, ugly and sickly vehicle for Jim Carrey's camera-mugging shtick.

The population of Whoville are eagerly awaiting the arrival of Christmas, frantically hoarding presents and preparing for the yearly 'Holiday Cheermeister' overlooked by the town's narcissistic mayor Augustus Maywho (Jeffrey Tambor). At the top of the mountain casting a shadow over Whoville is the Grinch (Carrey), a joyless and selfish green creature who loathes the Whos and their constant celebrations. Pushed to breaking point by the eternal singing blowing up the mountainside, the Grinch heads into town dressed as Santa to pray a prank on the townsfolk. Precocious 6 year-old Cindy Lou Who (Taylor Momsen) takes pity on the creature and tries talking to him, only to be shoved into a postal machine for her efforts. He ends up reluctantly saving her life however, so Cindy Lou starts to explore his past, learning that he was once an ugly child who ran away after being bullied. She wants to teach him about the true meaning of Christmas and show her fellow Whos that they have nothing to fear by nominating him as the Cheermeister, but the Grinch, armed with a sleigh, his trusted dog Max and a giant vacuum, heads into town with other ideas.

The immediate problem faced by screenwriters Jeffrey Price and Peter S. Seaman when adapting such a short tale is how to fill in the blanks with enough story and character development to stretch into a 90-minute feature, without losing the core message in the process. Apparently their plan was to hope Howard could create a colourful enough world to hold the kiddies' attention to cover up the glaring holes, and to throw in a number of meaningless sub-plots to add unwanted layers to characters who are charming for their simplicity. We get a backstory for the Grinch, along with a love triangle that will surely warm nobody's hearts, and enough time is saved so Jim Carrey can exhaustively flick his fingers and wrinkle his nose when he's not rolling around on the floor or eating glass. The film misses Seuss' point completely by making the Whos a bunch of intolerable consumers with pig-noses, who have long forgotten the more important things to savour during this time of year. It leaves just Cindy-Lou and her father as the only non-soulless, plastic robots with petty problems, so why would we care about them? Of course, it all heads towards the Grinch understanding that there is more to Christmas than material gain and gorging on food, but that doesn't stop the climax from being centred around saving everybody's presents. It's about spending time with your family and loved-ones you see, as long as there's plenty of crap to open come Christmas morning.


Directed by: Ron Howard
Starring: Jim Carrey, Taylor Momsen, Jeffrey Tambor, Christine Baranski, Bill Irwin, Molly Shannon
Country: USA/Germany

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,431: 'Take Care of Your Scarf, Tatiana' (1994)

Finnish director Aki Kaurismaki is up to his usual deadpan business with one of his most enigmatically-titled features, Take Care of Your Scarf, Tatiana, a title which remains a mystery, to me at least, long after the credits have rolled. Shot in black-and-white, the film appears to be Kaurismaki's version of a road movie, often resembling the early films of Wim Wenders, such as Alice in the Cities and The American Friend, although the influence of Jim Jarmusch can also be felt throughout. As is often the case with Kaurismaki, dialogue is delivered with little emotion and passion, story is an afterthought, and the main characters are what many people would refer to as losers. Still, even with all the restraint on show and a running time that that barely touches the hour mark, this is one of the director's funniest features, and certainly one of his most relatable.

We open with Valto (Mato Valtonen), a huge doorstop of a man who resembles Eugene from The Walking Dead with an even more ridiculous haircut. He seems to run a clothing business with his mother, and when parent and son have a tiff over the lack of coffee (he has a serious coffee addiction), Valto locks her away in the cupboard and heads for the auto garage. Here he hooks up with his vodka-swigging friend Reino (Matti Pellonpaa), who has just finished work on Valto's car, and the odd couple head out on a road trip with seemingly no destination in mind. They stop at a bar and are spotted by Russian Klavdia (Kirsi Tykkylainen) and Estonian Tatjana (Kati Outinen), who see these two miserable-looking Finns as their free ride to the harbour for their journey home. And so begins one of the cinema's strangest road-trips, which mainly consists Valto and Reino sulking and ignoring their guests, even when they are forced to sleep in the same room.

Take Care of Your Scarf, Tatiana may frequently surprise those not accustomed to Kaurismaki's distinct auteur style. Not in a dramatic sense of course, but in the way it refuses to veer off into more comfortable genre territory. You keep expecting Valto and Reino to break their silence and start a romance with their new lady friends, but despite the presence of some romantic undercurrents, these men remain a mystery. This doesn't mean that they're unrelatable however, as anybody with the slightest social anxiety will recognise the awkwardness of their interactions, and get a good laugh from it. There's actually more going on here than I realised before reading up about the film after it had finished. Kaurismaki layers this incredibly slight tale with satire and social commentary, but this will fly over the head of most non-Finns such as myself. However, this doesn't dilute the sheer joy to be had with Tatiana. If the characters in Alexander Payne's Sideways were introverted and shy, it may have come out something like this. This is a low-key pleasure and surprisingly upbeat for Kaurismaki, and proves that happiness can be found in unhappiness.


Directed by: Aki Kaurismäki
Starring: Mato Valtonen, Matti Pellonpää, Kati Outinen, Kirsi Tykkyläinen
Country: Finland/Germany

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,430: 'Venom' (2018)

I don't recall ever seeing Tom Hardy attempt comedy, but he's in full Ace Ventura mode in Venom, Sony's latest (and successful) attempt to squeeze the dollars out of what few Marvel characters that remain under their ownership. After failing to reboot Spider-Man and coming to an agreement with Marvel Studios to share the character, Sony have been left with the web-slinger's rogue gallery, and with some kind of anti-superhero universe clearly in mind, they have kicked events off with their most popular villain, the hulking and long-tongued Venom. You may remember the character from the franchise-killing Spider-Man 3 in 2007, and you also may believe you've gone back in time over 10 years when watching this spectacularly dull and frustratingly origin story, which harks back to the dark days of the Ben-Affleck-headlined Daredevil and Tim Story's Fantastic Four.

A spaceship launched by the shadowy Life Foundation crashes down to Earth carrying four symbiotic alien lifeforms gathered from a nearby comet. Three are retrieved by the Foundation's Elon Musk-esque CEO Carlton Drake (Riz Ahmed) and taken back to their San Francisco research facility for experimentation, but one escapes, latching itself on to an ambulance driver before hopping between various people in an attempt to find a suitable host. Enter Eddie Brock (Hardy), an investigative journalist who trades in exposing and bringing down corrupt organisations. When given the chance to interview Drake, Eddie naturally uses the opportunity to question the entrepreneur about some of the horrific allegations, including experimenting on humans. The interview is cut short, and soon Eddie finds himself fired and split from his fiancee Anne (Michelle Williams). He sees the chance to redeem himself when a disgruntled Life employee gives him access to their labs, which turn out to be holding cells for symbiote testing on the homeless. The rest you can guess: a symbiote finds its way onto Eddie and he spends the rest of the film dealing with newly-acquired powers (and taste for human heads).

Marvel Studios have got the formula down to a tee, endearing superheroes to millions of new fans who had never touched a comic-book in their lives. It's somewhat sad to see Venom try to take the genre back more than a decade, when many studios were under the impression that the only way an audience will buy into a world of superpowers is through forced humour. The MCU balances humour and drama in a way that almost guarantees your emotional investment, and if you're going to go for all-out comedy like Ant-Man or Thor: Ragnarok, y'know, make it funny. The sight of Hardy cooling down in a lobster tank or flashing expressions of gormless confusion for nearly two hours does not make for pleasing entertainment. The actor is incredibly bad, and his choice to go with a mumbled accent and hunched posture means that his character fails to convince as a journalist with serious credentials. The remainder of the cast don't fare much better, although its hardly their fault. It's a thankless role for Williams, who is given little to do other than playing the role of Eddie's conscience, and Ahmed has no dimension to play around with as the stock soulless corporate type. The climax is a forgettable smack-down featuring two indistinguishable CGI creations, something The Incredible Hulk did far better ten years ago. Despite all of this, Ruben Fleischer's bland fossil of a film raked in over $800 million worldwide, so I'm afraid a sequel is inevitable.


Directed by: Ruben Fleischer
Starring: Tom Hardy, Michelle Williams, Riz Ahmed, Scott Haze, Reid Scott, Jenny Slate, Melora Walters
Country: USA/China

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,429: 'The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus' (2009)

There are few filmmakers working today with a vision quite as singular as Terry Gilliam, and even less possess the sheer force of will to bring it to the big screen. His battles with producers are now the stuff of legend and, as seen in the wonderful documentary Lost in La Mancha, it literally takes a force of nature to bring one his productions down. While he remains an endearing figure in cinema and will always be a director to watch, he hasn't really made a great film since Twelve Monkeys, and that was over twenty years ago. His more recent films, most notably The Brothers Grimm and Tideland, have underwhelmed and somewhat flown under the radar, and this may have also been the case for his 2009 effort The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus if it hadn't been for the tragic death of star Heath Ledger during production.

Ledger plays the mysterious Tony, a man found hanging from a bridge by a travelling theatre troupe headlined by the titular Doctor Parnassus (Christopher Plummer). The group also consists of the Parnassus' old friend, the wise Percy (Verne Troyer), the old man's daughter Valentina (a charming Lily Cole), and former beggar Anton (Andrew Garfield), who is head over heels in love with Valentina. Tony has a mysterious and shady past, so he is happy to work for the Imaginarium in an effort to disappear from a very public life, and soon sets about transforming the show's old-timer decor and feeble efforts to attract an audience. Usually setting up the stage in dingy car parks or other undesirable locations, Parnassus' only boast is that of a magical mirror that can transport anybody who enters it into their own imagination. Anton is unhappy at the sudden appearance of this handsome stranger, who naturally attracts the attentions of Valentina, but the troupe may face a larger threat thanks to Parnassus' ancient wager with the Devil (Tom Waits).

There's a great idea in there somewhere, but the script by Gilliam and co-writer Charles McKeown (who also worked together on Brazil and The Adventures of Baron Munchausen) is so haphazard and unsure of itself that it often feels like three films crammed into one. This is no doubt down to the in-production re-writes that were necessary following Ledger's death (Johnny Depp, Jude Law and Colin Farrell were brought in to play alternate versions of Tony when he ventures behind the mirror), so sections of the film feel awkwardly patched together. But there is also much to like. The design of the Imaginarium itself is wonderful in its own tatty, weather-beaten way, and Waits, complete with pencil moustache, cigarette-holder, and that signature raspy voice, is irresistible as Satan himself. The moments set within the imagination are often silly and plagued with questionable special effects, but they also occasionally sparkle with the same kind of magic of Gilliam's Monty Python animation. While it may not be the ideal film to finish his short career on, the film plays a lovely tribute to Ledger and will always be a reminder of the talent we lost far too soon. Sadly, this is likely all Imaginarium will be remembered for, but its a sporadically entertaining ride while it lasts.


Directed by: Terry Gilliam
Starring: Heath Ledger, Christopher Plummer, Andrew Garfield, Verne Troyer, Lily Cole, Tom Waits, Johnny Depp, Jude Law, Colin Farrell
Country: UK/Canada/France/USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,428: 'The Predator' (2018)

Despite its unwavering popularity through the decades, the Predator franchise has failed to find its feet ever since it took off in 1987 with Arnold Schwarzenegger and Carl Weathers battling an alien foe in the jungles of South America. It's sequel, Predator 2, was an overblown mess, and it took twenty years for the threequel, Predators, to arrive and instantly be forgotten. The thirty years that have passed ever since John McTiernan's original seemed to have been one constant effort to steer the series back on course, so it must have seemed like a no-brainer to hire Shane Black, who played one of Arnie's unit first time around, to reignite some interest in the rasta-haired intergalactic travellers. After all, directors with their own sense of style and vision are rarely hired for big-budget blockbusters, and perhaps Black could inject the same level of wit and zip as he did with the likes of Kiss Kiss Bang Bang and The Nice Guys.

It pains me to say this, but how tragically wrong they were. This effort to reboot a dying franchise fails on almost every level, from the recycled plot and cast of stock characters, to the forced humour that never so much as raises a giggle, despite the actors' attempts to convince you that they're all having a good time. From the get-go, Black hits us with gun-toting action and CGI blood-spraying, and does so at an alarming rate. One can only wonder if Black had hoped we would be too distracted by the carnage and endless exposition to realise how stupid the film actually is, but it's hard not to notice when the main character begins the film by mailing alien tech back to his family from Mexico under the government's nose. Former army sniper turned mercenary Quinn McKenna (Boyd Holdbrook) is busy on a retrieval mission when he witnesses an alien craft crash to Earth. His crew are wiped out, but Quinn manages to flee with an alien helmet which he sends to his estranged wife Emily (Yvonne Strahovski) and autistic son Rory (Jacob Tremblay). While Quinn is interrogated by the government, the Predator is taken to the lab for experimentation. Yes, you've already guessed what happens next.

As the Predator wreaks havoc and more arrive for the fight, Quinn is thrown in with a bunch of military prisoners, who all are crazy in their own way. They consist of Trevante Rhodes, Augusto Aguilera, Thomas Jane, Keegan-Michael Key and Alfie Allen, and provide most of the film's 'humour'. They are supposed to be lovable but really aren't, but Quinn evidently trusts them enough to leave them alone with an unconscious Olivia Munn. Had they been given a personality, or some actual funny lines of dialogue, the gang may have helped cover up many of The Predator's flaws, but the film has the same uncomfortably conflicted feel of Black's Iron Man 3, which struggled to juggle the director's independent sensibilities with the restrictions of a franchise. It's flashy, colourful and rarely pauses for breath, but doesn't have a style of its own. People are thrown into huge objects to get up like nothing has happened, there's military tough-guy speak, and somebody at one point even yells "get to the chopper!". It's a bunch of thrown-together Easter eggs and action beats you've seen a million times before. I doubt this is the last we've seen of the extraterrestrial trophy-hunter, but it's certainly time to lay him down to rest for a while


Directed by: Shane Black
Starring: Boyd Holbrook, Trevante Rhodes, Jacob Tremblay, Olivia Munn, Sterling K. Brown, Keegan-Michael Key, Thomas Jane, Augusto Aguilera
Country: USA/Canada

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,427: 'BlacKkKlansman' (2018)

Although he is still producing an impressive body of work, it feels like Spike Lee has been away from the mainstream for an age. When Jordan Peele brought him the unbelievably true story of Ron Stallworth, a black detective who infiltrated the Ku Klux Klan in the 1970s, Lee jumped at the chance to tackle what would be his biggest joint since 2013's rather pointless Oldboy remake. If the movie didn't tell you as much at the introduction, you would likely have a difficult time believing that what you are seeing actually (well, kinda) happened. Based on Stallworth's memoir Black Klansman, Lee takes the story and successfully manipulates it into a commentary on racial hostility in the U.S. and its circular momentum throughout the country's history. Not only that, but BlacKkKlansman is also a funny police procedural that tips its outlandish hat to the blaxsploitation movies of the era.

Ron Stallworth (John David Washington) has just become the first black police officer in the Colorado Springs police department. He is eager to make a mark, but finds himself assigned to the records room, locating files for his racist co-workers. After making his desire to work undercover known to his superiors, Ron is tasked with infiltrating a rally involving civil rights leader Kwame Ture (Corey Hawkins), where he meets Patrice Dumas (Laura Harrier), the president of a black student union. Assigned to the intelligence division, Ron spots an advert in the paper for a KKK recruitment drive and, with his best white man voice, bags himself a meeting with Walter (Ryan Eggold), the president of the local chapter. His fellow officers are quick to point that not only did Ron give Walter his real name, he also happens to be black. Enter Flip Zimmerman (Adam Driver), the Jewish co-worker who takes the job of working his way into the ranks of the ever-suspicious Klan, while Ron does his part on the phone to try and land a conversation with Grand Wizard David Duke (Topher Grace).

BlacKkKlansman is certainly not without its flaws. Lee's desire to envelop Ron and Patrice's blossoming romance into the KKK's plan to carry out a terrorist attack leads to some glaring pacing issues, and an eagerness to hold up a mirror to the growing far-right attitudes of the Trump era can often be heavy-handed. Yet Lee's interesting style - mixing comedy with serious issues and often within the same scene - pulls you along for the ride, with the director showcasing a rarely-seen talent for suspense. Flip's assignment is fraught with problems, from the volatile and suspicious Klansman Felix (Jasper Paakkonen), to the fact that Ron's voice sounds oddly different on the phone to real life. Some of the supporting characters are perhaps a bit too cartoonish for the film's overall tone, the script from Lee, Charlie Wachtel, David Rabinowitz and Kevin Willmott, is incredibly sharp and witty without taking anything away from the seriousness of the underlying themes at play. Lee goes straight for the jugular, ending with shocking footage of the car attack at the 2017 Unite the Right rally to remind us of how little has changed, and how the threat never really went away. It isn't Lee's best work, but its one of his most vibrant and cinematic joints, and arguably his most ambitious.


Directed by: Spike Lee
Starring: John David Washington, Adam Driver, Laura Harrier, Topher Grace, Jasper Pääkkönen, Ryan Eggold, Paul Walter Hauser, Corey Hawkins
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,426: 'Mickey One' (1965)

Arthur Penn's Mickey One is a great example of a film that could have made real waves had it arrived at the right time and found the right audience. Sadly, audiences were perhaps unprepared for this radical new approach to film-making, at least for an American studio, as the film's free-wheeling, care-free attitude and style, heavily influenced by the burgeoning French New Wave in Europe, was a turn-off for critics. Despite attracting attention at the Venice Film Festival, Mickey One bombed hard at the box-office, and has faded into obscurity ever since. Had it arrived a few years later, when Hollywood really started to embrace new ideas and the visions of filmmakers, it may now be more highly regarded, although with its offbeat, freestyle-jazz swagger, Mickey One would still infuriate as much as it would inspire.

Mickey One (Warren Beatty) is a handsome, successful stand-up comic in Detroit enjoying a hedonistic life of alcohol, women and gambling. When a night of over-indulgence causes him to lose a wad of cash at the craps table, he flees the city for Chicago, knowing that the Mafia will be after his head for failing to pay his debts. He lays low, renting a tiny apartment and taking a job washing dishes at a restaurant. Unsatisfied with his situation, Mickey can't resist the lure of the clubs, and is soon in the front row heckling a fellow comic and stealing his laughs. He gets himself an agent and eventually returns to the stage, taking lowly gigs as he remains wary of the target on his back. Mickey can sing, play piano, and spit jokes at the drop of a hat, so it isn't long until he lands a spot at an upscale club called Xanadu. With his paranoia raging, Mickey struggles to decide whether or not to take the job, and the predicament isn't helped by the arrival of a beautiful, yet unwanted flatmate named Jenny (Alexandra Stewart).

Mickey One is a very odd film indeed. Scattershot in style and heavy on visual metaphors, it dazzles and demands your attention, but is about as infuriating as being forced to spend the night in a jazz club when you hate jazz. It introduces Mickey - which isn't even his real name - via a dizzying montage before throwing him out in the cold as he looks to duck any gangsters coming his way. We barely get to know him before being pulled along on his existential journey of self-discovery, and Penn is happy to grind the story to a halt in favour of a long conversation in a room (a la A bout de souffle). Still, its difficult to resist being swept along in its uncompromising rhythm and savouring some of the truly bizarre imagery on show. The sight of people trampolining in front of a bridge comes out of nowhere, as does a demonstration by a man credited as 'The Artist' (played by Kamatari Fujiwara), which involves a huge, self-destructive machine called Yes that quickly catches fire. I have no idea what it all means, but it's delightfully unique. And that about sums up Mickey One as a whole: you probably won't know what the hell just happened, but you'll have a memorable time.


Directed by: Arthur Penn
Starring: Warren Beatty, Alexandra Stewart, Hurd Hatfield, Franchot Tone, Teddy Hart, Jeff Corey
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,425: 'Edtv' (1999)

It's too bad for Ron Howard's Edtv that its arrival came shortly after Peter Weir's masterful The Truman Show, a film received with adoration by both critics and general audiences alike. Both are satires that comment on the state of trash TV and how audiences will watch literally anything providing they follow a comfortable (and manipulated) narrative, but both took their own unique approach. Jim Carrey's Truman was of course completely unaware that millions tuned in every day to see him live out his life in a supposedly Utopian confines of a television studio, but Matthew McConaughey's video store clerk slacker happily signs up to have bulky cameras and a boom mic follow his every move. Edtv certainly lacks the bite and incredibly dark undertones of Weir's masterpiece, and is content with structuring events around a familiar rom-com narrative, but Howard's film gets its message across with sufficient charm and wit, and almost twenty years later feels spookily prophetic.

True TV producer Cynthia (Ellen DeGeneres) pitches an idea to her stuffy boss Mr. Whitaker (Rob Reiner) that will involve following one individual, 24/7, as they go about their everyday lives. Whitaker reluctantly agrees, so the camera crew heads out into the city to find what they hope will be a new superstar. Ray Perkurny (Woody Harrelson) is eager to grab the limelight, hauling his girlfriend Shari (Jenna Elfman) and younger brother Ed in front of the camera to endure his obnoxious jokes. Cynthia, charmed by Ed's good looks and humble outlook, opts for the younger brother, and so EdTV is born. Ratings are terrible at first, with Ed waking up with a hand down his pants to a horrified audience, but start to improve as it becomes clear that Ed harbours feelings for Shari. Soon a narrative forms, much to Cynthia's liking, as Ray accidentally reveals to the world that he's a cheating scumbag, and Ed's absent father Hank (Dennis Hopper) turns up in an attempt to reignite their relationship.

As the audience grows, so does their influence on the show's events, with polls and talk shows about EdTV seem to litter every channel. With Shari reluctant to play out a romantic relationship in front of a camera crew, a beautiful and willing supermodel (played by Elizabeth Hurley) is thrown into the mix to spice things up. With the power to voice your opinion on a global scale now at everybody's fingertips, along with the ability to hit record at any given moment, Edtv is stunningly accurate at depicting the toxicity this level of access can influence. The film seemed to know exactly where our pop culture was heading, and it reminded me of the unnerving time I observed a family member watching Big Brother housemates live as they slept motionless in their beds. Yet as events are forced to play in a more traditional, consumable manner, Edtv pulls most of its punches, and the story becomes more about Ed's will-they-won't-they relationship with Shari than the abyss of toxic waste we were steering ourselves toward.  Despite the best efforts of an incredibly talented cast - Martin Landau delivers a particularly fine performance as Ed's stepfather - the film is never vicious enough to hold the attention for a running time of over 2 hours.


Directed by: Ron Howard
Starring: Matthew McConaughey, Jenna Elfman, Woody Harrelson, Ellen DeGeneres, Martin Landau, Sally Kirkland, Elizabeth Hurley, Rob Reiner, Dennis Hopper
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,424: 'The Ballad of Buster Scruggs' (2018)

The Coen brothers have long weaved their love of the western genre into their movies, whether it be capturing its core essence with the likes of Blood Simple and Raising Arizona, or tackling the genre head-on with No Country for Old Men and True Grit. Their latest, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, which makes its way onto Netflix after a limited theatrical release, sees the siblings hark back to the horse operas of old. Initially marked as an anthology series, it soon evolved into a feature of six unrelated stories, bound together only by the imaginary pages of the short-story book we as the viewer are supposed to be reading. The final product suffers from the same problems faced by any film attempting the portmanteau format - a couple are great, some are either frustratingly short or unnecessarily drawn-out, and at least one you'll be struggling to remember after the credits have rolled.

There's also the feeling that Buster Scruggs blows its load far too early, as the titular Ballad, featuring one of Tim Blake Nelson's best performances, struts into town on the back of a horse carrying the smoothest country singer and deadliest gunslinger in the West, and knocks it out of the park. It's a bizarre little tale that mixes the yodell-y crooning of those white hat vs. black hat genre pictures of old with bursts of the ironic, darkly humorous violence the Coens are so well known for. The tunes are wonderful, the cinematography (by Bruno Delbonnel) is ingeniously inventive (watch out for that shot from inside the guitar), and Nelson is a lively narrator. It ends too soon, and you can't help but think that a standalone feature for the sharply-dressed Buster Scruggs may have been warranted instead. The next story, Near Algodones, sees James Franco's roaming thief hold up the wrong bank and come under fire from the gun-toting teller, played by Stephen Root. It's supposed to be a funny tale of irony and karma, but ultimately feels like an afterthought in the wake of Scruggs' more well-rounded story.

Meal Ticket is more sombre in tone, following opportunistic impresario Harrison (Liam Neeson) and his performer, the legless and armless Artist, who is played with great poise by Harry Melling (Dudley Dursley from the Harry Potter films). There is a great idea here, one fraught with tragedy and sorrow, but it simply doesn't have enough time to fully develop its ideas. Slotting nicely alongside Buster Scruggs as a stand-out piece is All Gold Canyon, in which Tom Waits' grizzled prospector digs for gold in an untouched valley. It's like the opening scene of There Will Be Blood, only this also has a nice surprise in store as the weather-beaten old man searches for 'Mr. Pocket', the place in the ground holding his grand prize. The remaining two stories, The Gal Who Got Rattled and The Mortal Remains, touch on romance and horror elements, as the characters are transported by wagon train and stagecoach, respectively, to the destination that may or may not await them. They round off a mish-mash of tones and themes, and although they each have individual merits, they simply don't gel together or flow naturally. Fans will no doubt find some wonderful stuff here, as I did, but recommended only for Nelson and Waits, whose stories are up there with some of the Coens' very best.


Directed by: Ethan Coen, Joel Coen
Starring: Tim Blake Nelson, James Franco, Liam Neeson, Harry Melling, Tom Waits, Zoe Kazan, Bill Heck, Tyne Daly, Brendan Gleeson, Jonjo O'Neill
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie