Bride of the American Werewolf

Posted in FILM, Mythology with tags , , , , , , , , , on April 20, 2018 by dcairns

We’re going to see BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN at Filmhouse today, introduced by John Landis.

Landis has a nice ongoing relationship with Edinburgh — he was retrospected by Edinburgh International Film Festival, he shot parts of BURKE AND HARE here (here hare here) and now he’s a guest of Dead By Dawn, our long-running horror fest.

My connection to the BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN, always intense (though I never saw it as a little kid — took me years), is even more meaningful now, since I recently completed an epic video essay for the forthcoming Masters of Cinema release of THE OLD DARK HOUSE. So I can call myself a Whaler with the best of them.

The confluence of Landis and BRIDE makes me want to pitch a sequel to his maybe-best film — Anthony Waller’s AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN PARIS is best forgotten, which is fine, because it has been. BRIDE OF AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON would star Jenny Agutter, who provided the romantic interest in the first film. It would turn out that lycanthropy is also a sexually transmitted condition. I mean, who’s to say she didn’t get bitten by her boyfriend during their sexytimefun in the original movie? There’s definitely something oral going on.

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(Big cunnilingus scene in KENTUCKY FRIED MOVIE too. Obviously a Landis favourite. Maybe that’s why he wears a beard, so he always feels like he’s… Should I ask him? Probably best not.)

Anyway, werewolf Agutter, that’s the pitch. We can work the details out later.

This prospective encounter feels very timely, since my friend Stephen Murphy, a brilliant make-up artist, just met Rick Baker, creator of Landis’s werewolf (and so much more) at the Monsterpalooza convention (yes, this a thing). Stephen was made up as a zombie Rick Baker at the time. I can’t compete with that.

 

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Porn Again

Posted in FILM, Politics, Television with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on April 19, 2018 by dcairns

Probably we’ll be revisiting a few Milos Forman films, in the wake of his passing, but the one I dropped in the player was THE PEOPLE VERSUS LARRY FLYNT, mainly because we hadn’t seen it since it came out. It’s still very amusing and affecting — Courtney Love provides the untrained quality Forman admired as Althea Flynt, and Woody Harrelson brings the more actorly professionalism, creating the perfect blendship. It comes across as a genuinely sweet relationship between two filthy people in love. And Harrelson’s brother Brett is really good, he should do more.

Since then, screenwriters Scott Alexander & Larry Karaszewski have brought us The People Versus O.J. Simpson on TV plus several more biopics of Great American Weirdos. including Forman’s follow-up MAN IN THE MOON. I think this is one of their most successful attempts at character portraiture in their specialised sub-genre, the one in which character is in constant flux and motivation is often inexplicable, two challenges which would derail most writers.

Away from the human element — the movie does pretty well with its mercurial madman hero — it’s a defence of free speech, and the movie is effective enough here, but sort of slanted.

Firstly, feminist criticism of porn doesn’t exist in this film, so Flynt’s legal opponents are bluenoses and creeps like Jerry Falwell. This is fair enough in narrative terms, since those guys threatened the real-life Flynt more than attacks by Andrea Dworkin. But it leaves out a whole aspect of the subject, which could potentially enrich the movie. Ed Norton — playing a composite of all Flynt’s actual lawyers through the tears — yet appearing in the end-of-film summary as if he were a real person — talks about finding Hustler magazine distasteful, and Harrelson’s Flynt himself says, “The most I’m guilty of is BAD TASTE!” — a good line — but might there have been room for a more nuanced consideration? The weird effect is that the movie seems to take place in an alternative version of the 60s, 70s and 80s in which feminism never happened.

You can make up your own pearl necklace joke, if you absolutely have to.

Secondly, that analysis of what’s actually in Hustler is limited by censorship — the movie can’t actually show a real centrefold from the magazine, because vaginas are bad. So it can get a lot of good comedy value out of showing prudes at a fundraiser gaping in horror at unseen images, but it can’t let the other audience, us, view those images and make up our own minds. In other circumstances, this could make us imagine that the skinzine contains images of UNIMAGINABLE HORROR, I suppose, but instead it’s more like a suggestion of “nothing to see here.”

I’m not completely sold on my own suggestion that an analysis of the feminist objections to Hustler would improve the movie. Storywise, it’s not certain that feminism ever posed a threat to, or otherwise impinged on the life of Mr. Flynt whatsoever. The movie also omits three of his marriages and five children, including the one who claims he sexually abused her. And in today’s climate, it’s easier to say he may well have done. Apart from the fact that most such accusations tend to be truthful, Flynt was, in his youth, obviously highly sexed and sexual, morally flexible, mentally somewhat unbalanced (not that any of that automatically makes you a rapist). He makes a good suspect. How does that suspicion make the film play? More uncomfortably, which may be a good thing. The movie is a little too sure of itself.

We have to factor in Forman’s Goyaesque side, too, even though he hadn’t made GOYA’S GHOSTS yet. In fairness, Flynt’s staffers are a carnivalesque bunch of freakazoids, with Forman fave Vincent Schiavelli vying with sleepy-eyed Crispin Glover for physiognomy first prize, but it’s the prosecutors attacking Flynt who get the really repulsive reaction shots. All this is complicated a bit more by Flynt’s own cameo as a biassed judge, his flat delivery and bulbous features making for a caricature that works against both himself and his opponents. The satirical laser bounces between two funhouse mirrors and ends up just making the room seem hot.

The tendency to slant things towards Flynt is maybe most apparent in the scene where Love’s character drowns in the bath — while Flynt is on the phone trying to get her more medical help for her AIDS and drug addiction. It’s a pat, inelegant construction in an otherwise very smart screenplay, because it seems to be trying to force sympathy out of us that we should be quite willing to give freely. I don’t know, maybe that’s exactly how it happened in real life, but real life can sometimes need a rewrite.

But! I’d missed the news that the guy who shot Flynt, paralysing him, had actually been caught and executed. And Flynt campaigned to save his life because he’s opposed to the death penalty. That is some serious Christian forgiveness from a proud atheist. (Maybe atheists are more Christian than the Christians? I can’t imagine Falwell doing that.)

 

The Good The Burt and the Gary

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on April 18, 2018 by dcairns

So, it was a Robert Aldrich double feature, in fact. I wanted to re-see VERA CRUZ, having always enjoyed it and having recently acquired a second-hand copy on DVD. Fiona’s not big on westerns, generally needs them to have a female element. This is disorienting to me since my mum loves westerns, so I grew up thinking, Yeah, westerns, women’s pictures, right. Not right, apparently!

My mum’s view of it does make sense. Westerns are full of things women often like to see. Scenery, animals, men, activity, travel, justice. By getting the female characters well out of the way on the sidelines, it makes it easier to ogle John Wayne or Richard Widmark (her favourite). But this logic doesn’t seem to hold up for a lot of female viewers.

So, the presence of Denise Darcel was my means of persuading Fiona to try this (plus, she was well up for an Aldrich double). Darcel (“Why was she always in westerns?” asked Fiona, thinking of WESTWARD THE WOMEN, which she loved) was a French actor burlesque dancer and starlet with a husky frame and stereotypically Gallic delivery. Here she plays a pure noir character, a scheming betrayer. She doesn’t win in the end, but she gets away with it.

Almost as gratifying from the female interest perspective was the presence of Sara Montiel, previously enjoyted in SERENADE. Mainly she brings astonishing beauty and glamour to a role that sees her doing a lot of double-crossing too, but on the side of good.

But of course the men do most of the hard riding. Great support work from Cesar Romero, George MacReady (the Emperor Maximilian!), early supporting villainy from Jack Elam, Ernest Borgnine, Charles Bronson (still going by Buchinsky at this point). Gary Cooper in the lead, hiring himself out to the wrong side, an early indication of the moral complexity/confusion engulfing the western hero, and Burt Lancaster turning a bad guy role into a star turn. You could imagine an earlier film where his grinning brute turns round and shows a heart of gold — he could do a Captain Renault. But not here. His heart is merely set on gold. This is a proto-Leone hero. When the villain is allowed to get more charismatic and interesting than the villain, a big reversal may be imminent.

Sergio Leone (no women’s director, he) would act as AD for Aldrich on SODOM AND GOMORRAH, and so he must have seen this. Besides, I think he saw every western there was to see. The quest for concealed gold, though far from unique to this film, seems to inform THE GOOD THE BAD AND THE UGLY. Burt starts to say “Why you dirty son of a b–” and is cut short by a blast of music (diegetic in this case), as Eli Wallach would be at the end of that film. The Mexican setting suggests DUCK, YOU SUCKER, as does the presence of a stiff-necked Prussian officer.

There’s also a “shoot when the music stops” scene directly informing the musical watch duels of FOR A FEW DOLLARS MORE…

Best of all is the bit I remembered most clearly — Burt and Gary and Cesar and almost everyone else find themselves outgunned by juaristas, who have crept up silently in Red Indian manner and in vast numbers, surrounding them. As the camera circles Burt, we see them rising slowly from every rooftop, their appearance timed precisely to sync with the camera movement itself.

We get a good chunk of the shot at the start of the trailer.

Leone picks this shot up and carries it forward in time to ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST, but here, as the camera orbits Frank Wolff, the movement reveals — nothing. Only the eerily silent prairie, a space from which enemies WILL come, but are as yet invisible. The shot has been transformed from a very flamboyant but typically American conception — a movement displaying the actions of characters — to a European (specifically Italian) one — exploring space, both geographical and psychological, motivated by something purely internal…

Shot starts at 5.39 in this clip.