Filmsy - Movie Reviews Blog

Gaily, Gaily: Disappointing, Disappointing

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I caught Gaily Gaily on late night cable.  Why would I devote two hours of my life to this particular 1969 release?  Well, in theory, Gaily Gaily should be a meaningful, insightful, socially significant movie. Consider:

  • It co-stars Melina Mercouri, the anti-Junta Greek actress who later became a member of the Pan-Hellenic Parliament and Greece’s minister of culture after spending years as an outspoken critic (and target) of anti-democratic forces.
  • Abram S. Ginnes wrote the screenplay. Ginnes was a lifelong radical, a labor organizer and a victim of anti-communist blacklisting during the 1950s.
  • The movie is an adaptation of Ben Hecht’s undoubtedly embellished autobiographical works. Hecht, a prolific Oscar-winning screenwriter, spent time on an English blacklist due to his strong support of the Zionist movement in Palestine.
  • United Artists released Gaily Gaily in 1969, in the thick of a movement toward more overtly political film making.
  • Norman Jewison, who has tackled a variety of social and political issues in his movies, directed Gaily Gaily.

In reality, Gaily Gaily is anything but a politically charged movie. It’s really nothing more than a sepia-toned dramedy with an impressive cast, nice period costuming and a glass smooth Henry Mancini score.

Beau Bridges is Ben Hecht. Actually, he’s Ben Harvey. That’s right, they somehow managed to turn Ben Hecht, the very namesake of the SS Ben Hecht that braved the British blockade of Palestine, into a WASP-y blond kid. Anyway, young Bridges is a sexually frustrated teen from Galena who has a thing for cleavage. With the support of his dear grandmother, he heads off to Chicago in hopes of a slightly more exciting and cleavage-rich lifestyle than Galena can provide.

He’s robbed on the train. Bordello boss Queen Lil takes care of him. He becomes a cub newspaper reporter. There are minor twists and turns as comedic reporters and politicians drink, drink and drink some more. People chase one another as bouncy Mancini music plays in the background.

Old school newspaper reporters are loveable rascals. Irish guys are drunks. Prostitutes have hearts of gold. Politicians are corrupt, but not necessarily evil. Melina Mercouri is beautiful. Margot Kidder makes her film debut. Bridges has that vaguely confused look on his face that dominates most of his early performances. Every scene features an instantly recognizable character actor (Brian Keith, Hume Cronyn, George Kennedy, etc.).

Gaily Gaily is pretty like a gilded old photograph. It snagged three Oscar nominations (costumes, art/set decoration and music).

Unfortunately, it’s boring. And, to be honest, it’s pretty damn stupid. It’s certainly disappointing.

It’s also strange. Gaily Gaily is a throwback movie made and released during a period of innovation and boundary testing. Hollywood’s output was commenting on larger issues in a grittier way than ever before. Yet Gaily Gaily’s collection of politically aware and talented artists made a movie that, at its very best, is nothing more than a quaint source of vanilla half-chuckles.

Finding a Way to Like The Devil’s Rejects

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Halloween is almost here and after reviews of two horror movies I can’t recommend (Jeepers Creepers and Laid to Rest), I thought I’d provide one endorsement–even if it does come with a few caveats.

The Devil’s Rejects (2005)

Attack of the F-Bombing Super Fan

I remember the movie fan.  She was in her late teens or early twenties.  She was excited.  My brother-in-law went to a late showing of The Devil’s Rejects and she approached us as we left the theater as if we were old friends.

“That was awesome.  Awesome.  Wasn’t it great?”

Well, that wasn’t her exact opening to the conversation.  In reality, she punctuated every sentence with one or two variations of the F-word.  She wielded the F-word like a grammatical Swiss Army knife.  It was a noun, an adjective, an exclamation, a verb and I think she even found ways to use it as an adverb.

Our reaction to her rave review, which probably consisted of no more than a slight nod of acknowledgment or a mumbled “yeah” was enough.  She turned the talkativity dial to 10.

“I liked House of 1,000 Corpses.  I know lotsa people didn’t, but I did.  A clown?  Awesome.  But I know people thought it was crap.  Whatever.  This one.  Man.  This one was so awesome.  This one was perfect.”

She explained that she was excited to watch the next installment of the Saw series.  She talked about the soundtrack to The Devil’s Rejects.  She babbled on and on about Rob Zombie’s overall awesomeness.  She recounted her favorite kill scenes.

Eventually, she decided to find someone who was slightly more communicative and she bounded off, energized by two hours of on-screen carnage, sadism and a rip-off ending to a movie that took everything including the kitchen sink, coated it in retro slime and dumped it right into the theater.

We weren’t as thrilled with The Devil’s Rejects.  My brother-in-law and I both enjoyed it, though.

I can’t explain his rationale.  This is mine.

A Bad Movie

Sometimes, horrible ideas, horrible execution, poor choices, ham-fisted technique and a general lack of talent can somehow merge to create something good.  That is the story of The Devil’s Rejects, a movie justifiably maligned by most critics and just as justifiably loved by people including the stranger in the theater.

Let’s get rid of the bad stuff right away.  There are a billion reasons to hate The Devil’s Rejects.  Here are a few high(low)lights:

  • The casting was more of a tribute to B-movie horror veterans with a little 70s kitsch on the side than it was an effort to create a credible ensemble.
  • Zombie overuses the soundtrack in a heavy-handed effort to shove the desired retro feel down the throats of audience members.
  • The Devil’s Rejects contains multiple scenes that do little to advance either the plot of the movie or the development of its characters.  The scene with the chicken peddler, for instance, exists only to showcase a series of unfunny jokes.
  • The movie’s attempts to balance tension and sadism with comedy fail.  It may be jarring, but it’s not the kind of disconnect for which any sane filmmaker would strive.
  • Rob Zombie’s appreciation for the contours of his wife’s butt may be great for their relationship, but it’s not something the audience needs to explore during a horror/road movie.
  • The movie’s moral compass isn’t just a little off.  It’s in a room of electromagnets that spun it so hard and fast that it finally ceased to point anywhere.
  • The ending is an accidentally comic mish-mash of Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid and Bonnie and Clyde with a little bit of Thelma and Louise tossed in for good measure.  It’s utterly ridiculous, but not in the “let’s make wriggle room for a sequel” mode of most horror flicks, which is at least understandable from a dollars and cents perspective.

So, The Devil’s Rejects is an amoral mess that frequently insults its audience, features inferior performances and reveals a serious of weird, if not flat-out stupid, directorial choices.

And I liked it.

So Bad, Yet Pretty Good

I didn’t like it as much as the F-bomber, but I did enjoy it.

Why?

I have a tender little place in my heart for movies that try extremely hard, even if they fail miserably.  That’s why I’ve confessed to an appreciation for the ridiculous Legends of the Fall, and its oh-so-earnest attempt to be a stirring epic.

That’s why I like Armageddon, a moronic space movie that merged the Magnificent Seven team assembly strategy with poorly acted romance, Bruce Willis’ Christ-like sacrifice for humanity and Billy Bob finally getting his mission patch.

Everyone involved in movies like those seemed to be giving it their all.  They played it straight, without an ironic wink.  These movies are so sincere in their intentions and so audacious in their goals that it’s hard not to root for them even when their weaknesses are so readily apparent.

The Devil’s Rejects is the Armageddon of horror.  It’s the Legends of the Fall of road movies.

Rob Zombie and his limited-talent cast try hard.  They don’t deliver, but they put forth the effort.  You can tell that Zombie wanted to make a MOVIE, not just another movie.  He built a world with its own rules and its own feel.  He shoehorned Marx Brothers references into the script and he found places to feature actors he loves, even if the audience is unlikely to feel the same way.

Most people hate it because it seems like an utterly pointless and sadistic tale incapable of adding anything to their lives.

Some people love it, completely oblivious to its many, many, many flaws.

Between those two poles, there’s room to enjoy this dusty, broken horror movie without being a Zombie super-fan.

How to Like The Devil’s Rejects

You might not naturally find yourself in that space between oblivious super fans and sane normalcy, so let me give you a few recommendations.  If you follow them, you can enjoy watching The Devil’s Rejects.

  • Surrender the idea of emerging from the movie with any thing remotely associated with moral enlightenment.  The Devil’s Rejects is an exercise in atmosphere that preaches an amoral gospel.  Don’t even think about trying to feel good about humanity based on the actions of the film’s characters.  Any of them.
  • Focus on the few really tremendous moments in the movie.  The hotel hostage scene is extremely intense and frightening in a way that rises well above traditional slasher fare.  Kudos to Priscilla “Three’s Company” Barnes for this scene.
  • Appreciate the fact that Rob Zombie actually manages to take a collection of utterly grotesque and despicable murderers and transforms them into the very folks for whom you’re rooting as they roll down the highway toward their demise.
  • Make a game out of finding elements Zombie has either lovingly lifted or cheaply stolen from other movies.  Engage in an internal dialog, debating whether these thefts make The Devil’s Reject an homage to other horror movies or a if they demonstrate a lack of originality on the part of the filmmaker–or both.

And, most importantly…

  • Don’t take it too seriously.

I read a review of Saw 3D today in which the critic lambasted the movie for its misogyny and for not somehow living up to the standard established by its Saw precursors.

One of the first comments in response to that review pointed out how silly it seemed to criticize a Saw movie for being anything other than a fairly dumb, gory, somewhat scary diversion.  That response makes a great deal of sense.

At some point, we need to adjust our movie expectations based on what we know before we buy a ticket, rent the DVD or add something to our NetFlix queue.

If you were looking for a spine tingling, thrilling masterpiece of horror that would somehow provide you with tremendous insights about the human condition while not offending you with sadistic violence and other ugliness…

Well, picking The Devil‘s Rejects was stupid.

Give yourself two hours to disappear into a world of head scratching dumbness, jeans sagging off the butt of Sherri Moon Zombie, Sid Haig with rotten teeth and serial killers eating ice cream on the run.  Try to forget what you know for a while and take The Devi’s Rejects for what it is.  If you do, The Devil’s Rejects is a (and it’s hard to believe I’m writing this) pretty good movie.

You can critique it later.  I did.

Or, maybe you’ll come out the other side of raining bullets and “Freebird” with a strange compulsion to approach strangers and to talk at length about just how much you fucking loved everything about The Devil’s Rejects.

Laid to Rest: Bloody Nonsense with Chrome Skull

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Laid to Rest is a 2009 direct-to-DVD horror movie that you’ve never heard of unless you’re the kind of person who subscribes to Fangoria and once wrote to Tom Savini requesting an autograph.  It’s a slasher film for slasher fans, a blood and guts special effects showcase.

It’s also something of a family affair.  Bobbie Sue Luther produced the movie.  She also serves as the female lead.  Luther is married to the special effects expert who directed the movie, Robert Hall.
You can bet your severed head that its makers weren’t worried about whether the general public would fall in love with it.  They just wanted to appeal to its micro-niche.

It looks like they did a good job.   A perusal of the surprisingly large world of slashercentric blogs reveals generally positive reviews of the movie and a great deal of appreciation for its spree-killing star character.

The killer villain of Laid to Rest is the highly stylized Chrome Skull, who as his name suggests, has a face covered by a chromed skull mask.  He also has two big chromed blades that look like what the twin gynecologists from Dead Ringers may have owned had they taken gear to the guys at West Coast Choppers for some pimpin’.  Oh, he also has a little video camera mounted to his shoulder with a glowing red light.

The plot involves an amnesiac girl who escapes from a coffin just in time to flee Chrome Skull.  She seeks help from good-hearted but incompetent people.  Chrome Skull kills several of them.  A few of them survive until the final credits, including the protagonist scream queen.  Chrome Skull appears to die, but we all know better.  Two sequels are already in the works.

If you have delicate sensibilities, you’ll never consider picking up Laid to Rest in the first place.

If, on the other hand, you love incredibly gory kill scenes, Laid to Rest may become one of your all-time favorites.

The movie basically exists to take us from one act of butchery to another.  I don’t know if you can actually call the murders realistic, because I don’t know as if anyone has any idea what some of these creative bloodlettings would look life in real life.  I can tell you that you will see eyes filling with blood, entrails and even some face skinning.  If that’s your thing, this is a five-star effort.

I’m not easily offended and I’m not a slasher aficionado.  I’ve subjected myself to so much stupid crap over the years that I’m desensitized to the slaughter action. Though I’m not squeamish, I don’t really enjoy bloody mayhem for the sake of bloody mayhem.  With that in mind, here’s a quick explanation of why Laid to Rest is, by reasonable standards unrelated to the buckets of faux innards used in the production, a crappy movie.

  • Chrome Skull may have a look that’s appealing to the gorehounds of the world, but no one ever bothers explaining much, if any, of his back story or motivations.  Classic movie killers like Freddie, Michael and Jason captured the public’s interest and scared folks, to at least some extent, because they had at least some messed up rationale for their non-stop killing ways.  Lacking that, Chrome Skull is just a boring, unexplained robo-man with a creepy mask.
  • The stupidity of the non-killing characters reaches a level that far exceeds the average slasher flick victim.  These movies only work when characters make bad decisions, but the characters of Laid to Rest make unfathomably stupid calls at every turn.
  • Laid to Rest is poorly written, poorly edited or both.  Ideas and little features that seem to have potential relevance to the story go nowhere.  Trust me when I tell you that they’re not meant to be that way.
  • There are only two potential reasons you might care even slightly about the fate of anyone in the movie.  You might want someone to make it to the end so you can learn more about Chrome Skull or you might find the lead actress attractive.  As noted, Chrome Skull remains a dull mystery and Bobbie Sue Luther’s good looks aren’t a point of emphasis.

Laid to Rest isn’t scary.  It isn’t interesting.  It isn’t much of anything other than bloody.    If you need a gore fix, watch it.  Otherwise, steer clear.

Note: This is the second in a series of pre-Halloween movie reviews.  You might want to check out the review of Jeepers Creepers, too.

Jeepers Creepers: The Credits are the Scary Part

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Here’s my plan:

  • Pick out a fistful of horror movies I haven’t seen.
  • Watch them.
  • Write a review of one every other day until Halloween.

It’s simple with a relevant holiday theme.

Jeepers Creepers was first up on my list.  It doesn’t lend itself to a simple review.

Here’s what I knew about Jeepers Creepers before sitting down to watch it:

  • It was something of a surprise mini-hit during its theater run.
  • It was popular enough to spawn at least one sequel, with another one lurking in the future.
  • Someone deemed the movie important enough to release a “special edition” DVD.

Here’s what I didn’t know:

Victor Salva wrote and directed it.

This was a complication.  I knew that I’d filter every frame of Jeepers Creepers through my understanding and opinions of the writer/director.

Just in case you didn’t know it, Victor Salva is a child rapist.

Victor Salva’s first feature, Clownhouse, was in the can.  The movie told the story of a little boy who was victimized by a crew of sadistic felons in stolen clown garb.

The cops were more interested in another Salva movie–a little homemade video he kept in his house.  It featured Salva, the former daycare worker, and the twelve year-old star of Clownhouse engaged in sexual activity.  Salva used his longstanding relationship as a trusted adult with the child and his position as a director to create an opportunity for abuse far more horrific than anything his creepy clowns did to the child’s character.

Salva pleaded down eleven felony counts to five and got what he wanted–a relatively light prison sentence.  He did less than two years of a three-year stint before getting out and resuming his career in movies.

His first post-prison movie was Powder.  He wrote and directed the story of a supernatural albino high school boy who found himself the target of derision and bullying.  I thought its scenes of actors portraying high school kids tussling in the rain and a magnet force prying away the buttons on a pair of Levis were more than slightly unsettling, considering Salva’s history as a pederast.

The Disney-produced Powder caught the attention of protesters who couldn’t believe that the family-friendly conglomerate would allow a child rapist to make features.  Somehow, despite the protests and the lukewarm reviews, Victor Salva managed to hang around Hollywood and to make Jeepers Creepers.

Once upon a time, Salva was a kid who loved movies.  He particularly loved Jaws and saw it over five dozen times.  Later, he discussed his childhood fascination with the movie.  He didn’t relate to the human characters in the movie; he was focused on the shark.

He related to the monster because people thought it was ugly and frightening.  Salva saw himself as a reviled outsider–a fat, gay kid in a world of less-than-tolerant people.   He said:

When someone in the movie pointed and screamed, ‘Arrrrgh, he’s so hideous! He’s so ugly!’ I thought, ‘No, the monster is the most interesting thing about the movie. I wonder what he’s thinking and feeling.

I think those comments may shine a light on the way he makes movies.

If he finds a sense of kinship with the villains, Clownhouse makes sense and is even consistent with the unspeakable behavior in which he engaged.  He took something children are at least theoretically believed to love and trust, clowns, and turned them into predatory monsters.

Powder becomes weak apologia in which Salva the outsider tries to show us just how hard it is to be a misfit.  He begs for sympathy or makes excuses with the lead character–a freakish albino with strange powers who stands in for the fat kid trying to figure out how to survive in a world that doesn’t understand him.

What about Jeepers Creepers?

The Creeper comes out of hiding every twenty-three years to feast for twenty-three days.  He chooses young people, high school/college students, as his victims.  That’s all we really know about the villain.  He’s a strong, unexplained evil force hellbent on maiming killing kids without justification or developed backstory.  You never grow to hate the creeper or to understand his motivations.  They defy explanation.  The Creeper is a teen-seeking monster who can only keep to himself for so long before he must feed again.

Is this Salva’s way of addressing the twisted, sick parts of his brain that led him to rape a kid who trusted him?  Is he telling us that the evil inside of him “just is”?  Or, even more frighteningly, is he warning us that the destructive compulsions that put him into prison can only lie dormant for so long before they’ll override his sensibilities?

Maybe this is a case of a “cigar just being a cigar”.  Perhaps it’s just an almost-decent B-grade horror movie and the Creeper story is shallow because Salva didn’t write a great script.  Maybe the victims are kids solely because kids are the target audience for these horror movies and Salva needed to pitch something marketable.

I suppose Salva’s movies and his crimes could be unrelated.  A horror movie that takes the idea of kid-friendly clowns and sets them loose as terrorists targeting a boy might not have anything whatsoever to do with the fact that a friendly Salva was simultaneously abusing his position of trust to sexually violate the kid who played the Clownhouse boy.  Powder could just a be a vaguely shitty movie about a powerful outcast.  Jeepers Creepers could be one of millions of semi-forgettable fright flicks.  In Jeepers Creepers II (which I won’t be reviewing), Salva’s camera’s attention to the detail of tanning shirtless guys may be nothing more than acceptable eye candy.

I have my doubts.

And that’s what makes Jeepers Creepers scary.

If I could divorce myself from the knowledge of the writer and director being a child rapist, I wouldn’t have much to say about Jeepers Creepers.

The opening portion, in which an unknown pscyho in a truck that looks like ‘Mater from Cars engaging in Duel-like activity with a brother/sister teen duo is relatively good.  Then, like most throwaway horror flicks, the whole thing begins to fall apart, circling the drain faster and faster until it reaches a lame conclusion.

Jeepers Creepers has a posse.  Some people absolutely love it and consider it one of their favorite movies.  I don’t understand these people.  Sure, the movie has a few “BOO!” moments that might make one shudder in his or her seat, but there’s nothing that new, great, interesting, creative or impressive.  The Creeper’s scariness shrinks the more we see him and the teenage stars are really nothing more than speaking props.

The production values are decent.  The movie isn’t horrible relative to its genre.  Then again, horror is littered with extremely bad movies and very few great ones.  Perhaps it shines a little only because the options surrounding it are so very dull.

If you’re looking for a way to scare yourself before Halloween, don’t bother watching Jeepers Creepers.  The scariest part of this movie is a name in the credits.

FTA: Protest and Time Travel with Jane and Don

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JULY 1972

In July of 1972, US bombers were working to crush Quong Tri from above as the South Vietnamese embarked on what was to become a failed two-month effort to wrest control of the northern Binh Dinh province. Plus, Jane Fonda was in country.

Barbarella wore fatigues and boonie hats. She straddled Charlie’s anti-aircraft guns–the same kind that fired shots at those planes over Quong Tri. The Oscar-winner from Klute went from being Henry’s girl to being Hanoi Jane. She even took to the airwaves, with NVA assistance, to decry America’s military activity.

That happened about a week after the release of a Francine Parker documentary, FTA. FTA is an acronym with at least four potential meanings. It was “f*ck the army”, “free the army” and “Free Theater Association”.   It could also mean “freedom, travel and adventure” (perks touted by army recruiters at the time).

The documentary tracks a travelling anti-war road show featuring Jane Fonda and her Klute co-star, Donald Sutherland. This folk-singing, joke-telling collection of performers put on a series of shows near military installations and attracted a large number of soldiers–including many who were openly expressing their discontent with the war. American Independent Pictures distributed FTA. It had been in theaters for a week when Fonda’s controversial date with Charlie began to claim headlines.

AIP summarily pulled FTA from the theaters in the wake of the Fonda controversy. Some people say that AIP just didn’t want the hassles that would come by being associated with Fonda. Others claim that threats from increasingly unpopular White House were behind the decision.

Regardless of the reason, FTA disappeared from theaters. They didn’t just lock the prints away. Someone had them destroyed. FTA vanished. The only people to see the movie for years were those with bootleg copies.

Eventually, a complete print showed up somewhere, allowing for a 2009 DVD release.

OCTOBER 2010

Today, we’re stuck in another seemingly endless land war in Asia. Circumstances are radically different but just like then, there’s a large component of the population who’d like to see the combat end.

This time, though, Hollywood isn’t talking about it the way they did forty years ago. Sure, you’ll hear occasional comments from the best-known left-leaning creatives from time to time, but no one is bringing an anti-war vaudeville show to the towns near military bases.

After watching this documentary, I’m not sure that we’re missing much.

FTA consists of two different elements. The movie is a fifty-fifty split between interviews of US soldiers who felt a strong distaste for US activity in Vietnam and the group’s campy stage show.

The interviews are interesting. It’s amazing to see enlisted Marines decry violence in the name of imperialism and to express their doubts and disappointment. None of them says anything earth-shattering, but hearing from them provides the viewer with a clear glimpse of the period and the concerns of those who were charged with the responsibility to carry out an ultimately failed plan of attacks.

The unhappy soldiers and Marines aren’t necessarily spot-on in terms of their analysis, but they got the basics right about Vietnam. They saw the writing on the wall long before the last chopper pulled away from the embassy.

The other half of the movie, the part that documents the actual FTA touring show, is almost unwatchable. Fonda and Company wanted to create a counterpoint to the Bob Hope USO shows of the day. Instead, they did something that looks, sounds and feels a lot like something put together by a bad junior college theater class with a vaguely politically aware high school student serving as head writer.

The folksy songs are catchy, but in an irritating way. The jokes and jibes are delivered earnestly, but they’re dull and obvious. The skits won’t make you smile.

The hearts are in the right place. Whether you agree of disagree with the sentiments of FTA, you can tell that those involved felt like they were doing the right thing. They believed.

They just didn’t have a very good show.

Sutherland is the sole exception. If anyone comes out of FTA looking good, it’s Sutherland.  He has one inspired bit as a sportscaster announcing a firefight between US and NVA forces. He also brings some pathos to the affair with a reading from “Johnny Got His Gun”.

There’s a chance that earlier FTA shows may have been better than those from the Pacific Rim show featured in the movie. An interview with Fonda included on the DVD release reveals that the group originally featured Peter Boyle and Howard Hesseman.

They parted ways when Fonda decided to tackle the issue of the group’s racial composition, responding to a black/white cast imbalance. She says the cast changes helped FTA to connect with the black GIs. That may be true, but it’s too bad Hesseman and Boyle couldn’t still be a part of the act.

In terms of moviemaking, FTA is a very straightforward documentary. There’s no omniscient narration and no one really speaks over the footage. There are a few smart shots and the camera finds occasional artifacts that do a good job of underlining key points. Parker’s primary gift to viewers is a snapshot of a time that’s quite different than today.

I can’t imagine Sean Penn and Will.I.Am embarking on a tour outside of US military installations today. I can’t visualize them sitting down for rap sessions with soldiers or coming right out and making unmistakably strong statements about the Army and its policies. Today, the Dixie Chicks can lose half of a career by expressing disappointment in a President. Jane Fonda will always be Hanoi Jane to a large percentage of the population. Getting as loud and as straightforward as the FTA team is bad career mojo.

The DVD’s interview with Fonda circa 2009 is a must-watch. In it, she admits to a political immaturity in the early 70s and there are moments when you can tell that the beliefs of “the movement” that fueled FTA still move her.