Browsed by
Month: September 2022

Stunt Man, The (1980)

Stunt Man, The (1980)

“You’re right, he’s not an evil man — he’s a crazy man.”

Synopsis:
When a Vietnam vet (Steve Railsback) on the run from the law gets involved with a movie director (Peter O’Toole) whose stuntman Bert has just died, he agrees to take over this work, mostly to conveniently assume Bert’s identity, but also to impress a beautiful young actress (Barbara Hershey) on the set.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Allen Garfield Films
  • Barbara Hershey Films
  • Fugitives
  • Hollywood
  • Mistaken and Hidden Identities
  • Movie Directors
  • Peter O’Toole Films
  • Ruthless Leaders
  • Veterans

Response to Peary’s Review:
As Peary writes, this cult film by Richard Rush about a “shellshocked, paranoid young Vietnam vet” who “has been living on the edge for many years” and “has trouble distinguishing between illusion and reality” shows us what happens when such a man is conscripted by “fire-breathing, egocentric, wicked, super-intellectual director” Eli Cross (O’Toole) to work as a stuntman on a WWI movie, “where everything is faked (through makeup, stunts, doubles, editing, selective photography) to create a sense of reality.”

Peary notes that since “all is seen through [Railsback’s] eyes,” he “becomes frightened that the godlike Eli thinks his movie is so significant that even real death on film is justified” — and this drives the thrust of the narrative: is Cross homicidally driven, or is this notion merely a figment of Railsback’s paranoia?

Peary admits that he’s “not taken with” this cult movie but “can understand why it has such a devoted following,” given that “it is an extremely ambitious film, beautifully structured by [screenwriter] Lawrence B. Marcus (who moves away from Paul Brodeur‘s [1970] novel), endlessly imaginative, strikingly photographed by Mario Tosi, and marvelously played by O’Toole.”

He adds that “while it is thematically confusing (perhaps it attempts too much) and at times self-consciously directed (particularly during the comical scenes), you have to admire Rush for bravely undertaking such a multi-leveled, personal project.” Finally, he notes that it’s “full of offbeat moments and characterizations,” of which “some work, some don’t.”

Peary elaborates on his review in his Cult Movies 3 essay, explaining why it took so long for this film to get made after Rush first experienced success in Hollywood with his exploitation flicks Hells Angels on Wheels (1967), Psych-Out (1968), and The Savage Seven (1968), and then his Hollywood break-through flick Getting Straight (1970). He notes that once The Stunt Man finally got released, it “did good business in some cities and college towns but didn’t become the resounding commercial success Rush hoped it would be,” in part because “the film’s subject matter no longer seemed novel after nine years: Francois Truffaut had made his paean to filmmaking, the very popular Day for Night (1973), and … there had been a proliferation of theatrical and television films about stuntmen.” However, he adds that “certainly the major reason for the disappointing box office was that The Stunt Man was just too strange to appeal to all tastes;” indeed, there had “been few recent films that [had] so divided an audience,” as epitomized in Siskel & Ebert’s split-decision review of the film on their show (Siskel loved it, Ebert wasn’t taken with it).

Peary admits that his own “reasons for not liking The Stunt Man, as opposed to disliking it, aren’t at all deep.” For instance, he thinks “Steve Railsback (whom Elia Kazan recommended to Rush) is miscast” given that his character is “supposed to be likable [and] sympathetic-crazy” but his “eyes give [one] the creeps”; and it doesn’t help that Rush directs him inconsistently.

He also believes Hershey “seems wrong as Nina” given that she’s portrayed as “unperceptive” and ultimately is just “a fairy tale/dream lover with the depth of Tinkerbell.”

Meanwhile, “as for the film itself,” Peary finds it “surprisingly boring, considering all the action, oddball characters running around, impressive stunts, and sex.” Like other critics, he wonders about the choice to film “entire lengthy scenes” in one take when “such scenes would [actually] be done piecemeal” — unless this was to intentionally “heighten the film’s surrealism.”

He points out that it’s too bad “Rush didn’t retain [novelist] Brodeur’s most interesting themes: stuntmen are similar to our soldiers in Vietnam; those men who give orders on the set… are as unconcerned about the welfare of stuntmen as officers are of their soldiers’ welfare in the war; a stuntman is kept in the dark about the overall picture he is making, just as soldiers are unaware of the ‘big picture’ of the war in which they are fighting; stuntmen and soldiers are willing to risk life and limb… to follow orders; stuntmen and Vietnam soldiers are expendable; nobody actually would do the foolish physical feats a stuntman does to please an audience [and] only a soldier would be required to do equivalent suicidal acts; in terms of the public that sees movies and watches news reports on TV, stuntmen and soldiers fighting and dying way off in Vietnam don’t really exist; [and] a person can lose his identity when he becomes a stunt double… as swiftly as if he joins the army.”

These are all excellent insights, and I agree with Peary that the film could/should have made these parallels more explicit. He points out that “Rush does retain Brodeur’s illusion-or-reality? theme,” which is one of his “least favorite themes because most films that use it — such as Performance (1970) and Images (1972) — turn out to be pretentious and incoherent.” However, he concedes that “at least here it seems appropriate because The Stunt Man is about filmmaking, an art form that, paradoxically, uses illusions to create a sense of reality.” He adds that “figuring out what is real and what Cameron imagines in his paranoid mind (i.e., is Cross trying to kill him) is [most likely] the challenge of the film,” though it’s not necessarily resolved in a satisfactory way.

I’m in agreement with Peary’s assessment: I admire much about this movie, but am not a personal devotee; I consider it a once-must for its cult status, for O’Toole’s National Society of Film Critics’-award-winning performance, and for its behind-the-scenes (albeit skewed) perspectives on moviemaking.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Peter O’Toole as Eli Cross
  • Mario Tosi’s cinematography
  • Some incredible stunt work
  • Domonic Frontiere’s score (though be forewarned it’s a total earworm)

Must See?
Yes, as a cult favorite.

Categories

  • Cult Movie

Links:

Vanishing Point (1971)

Vanishing Point (1971)

“Don’t you worry — we’ll catch him.”

Synopsis:
A war vet and former cop (Barry Newman) picks up a car from its owner (Karl Swenson) and makes a bet with his drug-dealing friend (Lee Weaver) that he can deliver the car from Colorado to California in 15 hours; but he quickly finds himself relentlessly chased by police, and must rely on help from strangers — including a blind DJ named Super Soul (Cleavon Little), an aging prospector (Dean Jagger), a faith healer named J. Hovah (Severn Darden), and two hippies (Timothy Scott and Gilda Texter) — to make it to his destination.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Car Chase
  • Counterculture
  • Fugitives
  • Radio
  • Road Trip

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary’s GFTFF review of this “cult movie about a dropout from mainstream society… who takes a drive-away car from Denver to San Francisco” is excerpted directly from his longer essay in Cult Movies 2, which I’ll cite directly from. He notes that while Newman’s “Kowalski” is posited as a “contemporary Lone Ranger,” he “forgets to do anything heroic.” Instead, “the trouble for us viewers… is that no matter how noble his self-sacrificial gesture seems” at the end of the film, “we can’t help feeling that this pill-popping, self-destructive speed demon (whom we see in flashback crash on a race track) is a menace to all of us on the road” — and “for everybody’s safety, we should hope that he’ll be arrested.”

Peary notes that “because the high-speed car chase in Bullitt (1968) had such an impact on the public… and on filmmakers who saw a good way to fill twenty minutes of screen time in their own dreary films, almost every action film of the following years included an obligatory car chase” — though for Vanishing Point, this was simply the “starting point.”

He asserts that “director Richard Sarafian… was looking for the perfect movie formula” and “noticed that there was also a proliferation of ‘personal’, low-budget existential films that used the road as a metaphor for lives that have no meaning, no direction, no beginning, and no end” — so “he decided to mix the car chase, hallmark of the action film, into an existential road film.” Meanwhile, “he threw in some gorgeous Colorado-Nevada-California scenery, a bit of nudity (a girl on a motorcycle in the desert???)”:

… “some acoustic and psychedelic rock music (perfectly attuned to the era), and stereotypes from the counterculture” — and, “the youthcult ate it up.”

Unfortunately, there are three central problems: first, “the picture makes little sense”; second, audiences are manipulated by “Sarafian and screenwriter Guillermo Cain” into “regarding Kowalski as its hero”; and third and “most significant[ly], they have ‘cool’ characters” — like “Vera [Kowalski’s deceased girlfriend, played by Victoria Medlin]”:

… “Super Soul — who [for some reason] thinks of Kowalski as ‘the last American hero,’ the symbol of our dying freedom”:

… “Jake, the old prospector”:

… and “Angel and his nude girlfriend think[ing] well of Kowalski”:

… thus indicating “he must be all right.” Meanwhile (and most frustrating to me), “all the women are portrayed as love objects, willing to hop into the sack with any lonely stranger.” As DVD Savant writes in his equally scathing review:

“… perhaps the warped plotline can be justified as being partly from [Kowalski’s] distorted point of view. Women appear like visions out of the desert. A gas station attendant is just like (or is) the girl he rescued from being raped by his partner when he used to be a cop. Another female conjures up visions of the surfer girl (cue romantic flashbacks) he lost to the deep blue see (cue lonely surfboard washing ashore). A final vision, seen only in the English version, is a sultry hitchhiker (Charlotte Rampling) who seems to be a personal hallucination.”

Adding insult to injury, “the only misfits who don’t help Kowalski are homosexuals (even youth films in those days made homosexuals into comical deviants.)”

Peary concludes his essay by naming many of the confusing or unclear aspects of the screenplay — but he also admits he “half enjoy[s] Vanishing Point” given that “the stuntwork here… is truly spectacular,” and there are (thankfully) “few actual car crashes” (though the filmmakers did go through eight white Dodge Challengers during the making of the film).

While “Kowalski drives like a tourist guide who missed the last reststop,” the “scenery we glimpse is… breathtaking, and the camerawork from fast-moving vehicles and helicopters is stunning.”

What Peary likes “best about the film,” however, “is its depiction of a coast-to-coast network of weirdos, dropouts, and misfits ready to help wayfaring strangers,” thus “show[ing] a finer aspect of the sixties-seventies counterculture, for which [he has] nostalgic feelings.” I wonder if this may also be why 72-year-old Bruce Springsteen mentioned this as his favorite action film on the November 10th, 2021 episode of The Late Show With Stephen Colbert while taking the “Colbert Questionnaire”. Perhaps we all have a collective nostalgia for a (perceived) time when the world was more collaborative and communal.

Note: Check out the 18-minute documentary called “Built For Speed: A Look Back at Vanishing Point” if you’re curious to learn a bit more about the film’s production and popularity.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Plenty of exciting car chases and stunts (shout-out to stunt coordinator and driver Carey Loftin)
  • John A. Alonzo’s cinematography

Must See?
Yes, once, simply for its cult status. But expect to be annoyed by much of it.

Categories

  • Cult Movie

Links:

Dark Star (1974)

Dark Star (1974)

“Don’t give me any of that ‘intelligent life’ stuff. Give me something I can blow up!”

Synopsis:
A team of astronauts — Lt. Doolittle (Brian Narelle), Boiler (Cal Kuniholm), Talby (Dre Pahich), and Sgt. Pinback (Dan O’Bannon) — who’ve been sent on a 20 year mission to detonate “unstable planets” deal with both boredom and life-threatening emergencies during their time in space.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Astronauts
  • John Carpenter Films
  • Satires and Spoofs
  • Science Fiction
  • Space Opera

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary writes that “this emerging cult hit” — the “debut effort of director John Carpenter and screenwriter… Dan O’Bannon” — “actually began as a thesis film at USC,” and “has long been the textbook example of how to make a quality film on a shoestring budget.” He refers to it as “a splendidly inventive, hip, irreverent space satire (a parody of 2001) that provocatively illustrates how astronauts, when confined to their spaceship for too long, become irretrievably ‘spaced out’.” He goes on to argue that “this dehumanization theme is much better realized here than in Carpenter’s The Thing” (but we have vastly differing opinions on that flick, so I won’t carry that discussion any farther).

I would agree that “seeing these astronauts in their sorry state at the film’s beginning” makes us “concerned not [only] about what will become of them but about how they became that way.” They are “neglected or, more likely, forgotten by earth base”, and are now in a “radioactive” ship with “their toilet paper long gone, their minds wandering in various directions,” flying “through infinite space on an endless and now pointless mission to blow up (with talking bombs, no less) unstable planets.”

What a dreary, torturous existence! As Peary points out, how these four men “spend their time is the gist of the film,” so it’s a good thing we’re given plenty of droll comic relief.

Peary argues that while “the film has traces of amateurishness, it is brimming with ingenuity… and quirky humor,” with a highlight “a long sequence in which O’Bannon’s witless character tries to feed an alien they’ve taken aboard” — which is played as “pure comedy” but is also clearly “the genesis of Alien, for which O’Bannon also wrote the script.”

Peary analyzes the film in further detail in his Cult Movies 2 book, where he notes that both of Carpenter’s pre-Halloween (1978) films — this and Assault on Precinct 13 (1976) — have unique cult followings that are “quite separate from each other.” He points out that Carpenter at this early stage in his career “was obviously much like the innovative astronaut Doolittle, who fills up two rows of hanging bottles with varying amounts of water to create a makeshift vibraphone”:

… just as Carpenter “used everything at his disposal to complete a ‘legitimate’ film… despite having little money for production values.” His strategies included using “interesting opticals and animation effects;” building “an eighty-foot shaft and flip[ping] his camera on its side to make Pinback’s elevator-hanging scene seem believable and exciting”:

… “allow[ing] for a monster that is no more than a beachball with claws because he can use it for humor as well as suspense; vary[ing] the visuals by including several sequences in which characters appear on television monitors and seem to be addressing the viewer”:

… and “giv[ing] voices to the ship’s computer (a sexy but motherly female) and the bomb about to be detonated (a fussy male), thereby adding two characters to the film.”

I’m not a personal fan of this film, but I concede its effectiveness and can understand how and why it would have appealed to audiences of the day. There are a number of clever moments (my favorite is “Doolittle’s phenomenological discussion with the bomb”):

… and I would agree with Peary that this film can be “an inspiration to aspiring independent filmmakers” as a “surprisingly non-indulgent [film] for a new director.”

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Impressive use of a super-low budget

Must See?
Yes, once, simply as a cult favorite.

Categories

  • Cult Movie

Links:

Petulia (1968)

Petulia (1968)

“I’m trying to save you, Archie — you’re a very, very special man.”

Synopsis:
A socialite (Julie Christie) unhappily married to the son (Richard Chamberlain) of a wealthy businessman (Joseph Cotten) propositions and begins dating a surgeon (George C. Scott) whose former wife (Shirley Knight) is now dating another man (Roger Bowen), but doesn’t quite understand why they divorced.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Domestic Abuse
  • George C. Scott Films
  • Joseph Cotten Films
  • Julie Christie Films
  • Marital Problems
  • Richard Chamberlain Films
  • Richard Lester Films
  • Shirley Knight Films

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary asserts that director “Richard Lester’s shattering vision of America in the late sixties” — based on a novel by John Haase and a short story by Barbara Turner — “is a brilliant, expertly acted film, so rich in character and visual and aural detail that it takes several viewings to absorb it all.” He points out that “on one level, it is a wildly comical essay on a country gone haywire; but at heart it is a tragic look at the individuals who must fight a (losing) battle for survival in a zany world.”

He elaborates on his analysis in both GFTFF and his Cult Movies book, noting that “the great American tragedy is that a country founded by a resourceful, enterprising, responsible people of high values and ideals” (well… for a select few) “has become so utterly wasteful of money, time, human life (Vietnam is ignored by a desensitized nation), and human potential,” with “America’s institutions — the army, hospitals, prisons — … as impotent as David [Chamberlain] is in bed.”

He points out that “even marriage is a casualty of the modern age: boredom is an adequate reason for a man to leave his wife; a battered wife is no longer required to stay with her husband” — and with “America… spinning too fast, there is no solid footing” yet “there stands Petulia, symbol of the shaky times: mini-skirted, on wobbly legs,” with a “stoical” face “but her eyes indicate she has lost something irretrievable and sees a road downhill to oblivion.”

Peary’s analysis is a fascinating one, but presumes one will read quite a bit of depth into this array of messed up protagonists. My own take is a little different: from the film’s opening sequence at a fundraising gala — interspersed (as is the rest of the movie, with cryptic flashbacks and flashforwards) — we can tell that this is a (high) society trying desperately to “have fun” and stay lighthearted, all while floating semi-ridiculous hairdos and automated systems that appear to be from a different era altogether. (Indeed, I wondered at first if this movie takes place in a dystopian sci-fi future, though that doesn’t appear to be the case.)

Christie’s “Petulia” is an obnoxiously flitting female, someone it takes a while to warm to given her push-and-pull tendencies. Once we learn more about the truth of her marital situation, we begin to have some measure of compassion — though the storyline is ultimately too oblique to allow for deep empathy, and we end up focusing more on the inevitable role played by Big Money and those in power, who will do whatever it takes to maintain a desired façade.

Peary points out that the “picture has many great scenes,” with “perhaps the most memorable [being] Archie’s argument with ex-wife Polo (Shirley Knight)”:

… and he notes that the movie is “technically interesting,” with a “fragmentary filmmaking” style that “is characteristic of both Lester and cinematographer Nicolas Roeg, who would soon be a director himself.” While this quirky film won’t resonate with all viewers (it’s not a personal favorite), it should be seen at least once to check it out.

Note: Watch for a brief singing cameo by Janis Joplin with Big Brother and the Holding Company at the film’s opening party sequence.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Julie Christie as Petulia (nominated as one of the Best Actresses of the Year in Alternate Oscars)
  • George C. Scott as Archie (nominated as one of the Best Actors of the Year in Alternate Oscars)
  • Expert supporting performances
  • Nicolas Roeg’s cinematography
  • Fine use of location shooting across the Bay Area and beyond

Must See?
Yes, as a cult favorite. Nominated as one of the Best Films of the Year in Alternate Oscars.

Categories

  • Cult Movie

Links:

Rain People, The (1969)

Rain People, The (1969)

“I just had to get away for awhile.”

Synopsis:
Shortly after an unhappy housewife (Shirley Knight) leaves her husband (Robert Modica), she picks up a former football player (James Caan) with a traumatic brain injury who comes to rely on her as his mother-figure; but when Knight begins a tentative romance with a traffic cop (Robert Duvall), their situation becomes even more complicated.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Feminism and Women’s Issues
  • Francis Ford Coppola Films
  • Housewives
  • Intellectually Disabled
  • James Caan Films
  • Marital Problems
  • Pregnancy
  • Road Trip
  • Robert Duvall Films
  • Shirley Knight Films

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary writes that while “in his major works Francis Ford Coppola has relegated his female characters to peripheral roles,” “early in his career he made this sleeper that remains one of the few Hollywood films to deal sensitively with a real woman and her problems.” He asserts that since it’s “about a woman in desperate need of some consciousness-raising,” it “might have been a hit if released about a year later, when the women’s movement really made its first great strides.” The film focuses on a woman who “thinks too little of herself to believe she could be a good mother,” and is “enjoying her first freedom since she was married,” “searching for an extramarital affair” given that this is “her only explanation for why she would have left her husband.”

Peary writes that while “viewers brought up on movie heroines who stick by their men through thick and thin may point angry fingers at Knight,” “this is not Kramer vs. Kramer, where the woman is automatically guilty because her side of the story is never told.” Indeed, “Coppola is very sympathetic toward Knight, even when her actions cause others harm.” He is focused on showing “her immaturity, to show that she is correct in thinking she should have an abortion” — which becomes even more “clear when she picks up a brain-damaged hitchhiker [who is] a surrogate child.”

Peary asserts that “Knight is marvelous”, and names her Best Actress of the Year in his Alternate Oscars. He writes that “so much of what we learn about this woman comes not from the script, but from paying attention to the confidence level of her voice, the wetness of her eyes, or how strong or vulnerable her face is at a given moment;” she “properly plays her as a woman undergoing metamorphosis, hopefully for the better.”

Peary adds that “Robert Duvall also gives a standout performance as a highway cop who brings Knight back to his trailer one fateful rainy night,” and points out the “strong use of locales” and “fine [cinematography] by Bill Butler.”

Note: Be sure to look for “associate producer” George Lucas’s short film about the production of this movie, entitled “Filmmaker: A Diary By George Lucas,” which offers intriguing glimpses into the challenges of making a road film like this on a relatively small budget.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Shirley Knight as Natalie
  • James Caan as “Killer”
  • Robert Duvall as Gordon
  • Bill Butler’s cinematography

Must See?
Yes, as an unusual early outing by a master director.

Categories

  • Important Director
  • Noteworthy Performance(s)

Links:

Dark Crystal, The (1982)

Dark Crystal, The (1982)

“Now I’ve got the shard — but what do I do with it?”

Synopsis:
A thousand years ago on the planet Thra, a young Gelfling named Jen (Jim Henson) who’s been raised by the gentle Mystics joins forces with fellow Gelfling Kira (Kathryn Mullen) in helping to retrieve a crystal shard from ornery Aughra (Frank Oz) and bringing it to the Crystal Chamber, all while fighting off the Garthim warriors sent by the vulture-like Skeksis.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Animated Films
  • Coming-of-Age
  • Fantasy
  • Search

Review:
Famed puppeteer Jim Henson based the philosophy of this feature-length fantasy film on the Seth Material, a series of lectures dictated by psychic medium Jane Roberts to her husband between 1963-1984. If this sounds like a woo-woo basis for a flick, it most certainly is — and is likely part of why I struggled to engage with the storyline. According to Wikipedia: “The core teachings of the Seth Material are based on the principle that consciousness creates matter, that each person creates his or her own reality through thoughts, beliefs and expectations, and that the ‘point of power’ through which the individual can affect change is in the present moment.” This would explain lines like the following:

“End, begin, all the same. Big change. Sometimes good. Sometimes bad.”
“Hold her to you, for she is part of you, as we all are part of each other.”
“He taught me the Shapes of Kindness, except there are no more like me.”

There is a crystal shard that needs placing into the existing crystal in order for a prophecy to be fulfilled:

… so that at least gives a bit of material heft to the narrative (along with Jen and Kira trying to rescue captured Podlings from having the life essence drained out of them).

Meanwhile, the animation was groundbreaking for the time, and is certainly impressively done — but as much as Henson, co-director Frank Oz, and conceptual designer Brian Froud strove to craft a brand new world (and the level of detail here is truly impressive), I simply couldn’t get the Muppets out of my head.

I’m clearly a grump about the flick, so I should acknowledge that it has many diehard fans (i.e., a cult following), and is considered formative in many ways. It’s just not a movie I’ll choose to revisit.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Impressive sets and overall design

Must See?
No, unless you’re curious.

Links:

Q / Winged Serpent, The (1982)

Q / Winged Serpent, The (1982)

“This thing has been prayed back into existence.”

Synopsis:
While a pair of detectives (David Carradine and Richard Roundtree) try to solve a series of gory murders around New York City, a petty crook (Michael Moriarty) stumbles upon a mysterious giant egg on top of the Chrysler Building, and attempts to use his knowledge as leverage against the police.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Candy Clark Films
  • David Carradine Films
  • Detectives and Private Eyes
  • Larry Cohen Films
  • Michael Moriarty Films
  • Mutant Monsters
  • New York City
  • Thieves and Criminals

Response to Peary’s Review:
In his review of this “cult picture” by writer-director Larry Cohen, Peary describes the bizarre plot as focusing on “an Aztec deity, the giant flying serpent Quetzalcoatl,” which “mysteriously appears above the Manhattan skyscrapers”:

… “descending only long enough to bite off the heads of sunbathers and construction workers” and “has built a secret nest at the top of the Chrysler Building” — all while “a series of ritualistic murders… are taking place all over the city.” When “former junkie Michael Moriarty flees a botched hold-up and somehow winds up at the nest,” “this born loser becomes an opportunist: he will divulge the location of the nest for $1 million plus amnesty.”

Peary argues that the “preposterous, totally confusing story is bolstered somewhat by the offbeat humor in director Larry Cohen’s script, some good location footage and his depiction of the city as character; and by a memorable, weirdly conceived performance by Moriarty” — although Peary believes “he should have saved his interesting neurotic for another picture.”

Peary notes that although the film is “fun for awhile”, it’s “done in by unforgivingly sloppy editing, mediocre special effects, and too many loose ends.” I agree on all counts.

In interviews, Cohen apparently noted that he:

“… once looked at the Chrysler Building and said: ‘That’d be the coolest place to have a nest.’ This single thought was the idea which began the creation of this movie.”

Unfortunately, this isn’t enough of an idea to sustain the film. Fans of Cohen will of course be curious to check it out, but it’s not must-see viewing for all fanatics.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Michael Moriarty as Jimmy Quinn
  • David Carradine as Detective Shepard
  • Good use of location shooting in NYC

Must See?
No, though it’s worth a one-time look for its cult status.

Links:

Simon of the Desert (1965)

Simon of the Desert (1965)

“Let a just man pray in peace!”

Synopsis:
In the 5th century Syrian desert, an ascetic “stylite” named Simon (Claudio Brook) stands on top of a pillar while people come to make requests of him or distract him, and he is repeatedly tempted by the devil (Silvia Pinal) in various guises.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Black Comedy
  • Christianity
  • Luis Buñuel Films
  • Surrealism

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary writes that this “bizarre, laugh-out-loud Luis Buñuel comedy” — the final film made during Buñuel’s extensive “Mexico period” — features a protagonist (“wild-bearded Simon”) who at times “comes across as a fool,” given that “he blesses everything, even the food in his teeth”:

… and whose “belief in God is so masochistic that at one point he decides to stand on one foot until God gives him a sign.” However, he points out that “Buñuel does not really mock him; rather… he pities him for being so loyal to a God who doesn’t seem to care he exists.” While “the devious devil repeatedly turns up to test and tempt him”:

… “God is off on vacation, leaving Simon vulnerable.” He asserts that “equally sad is [the] fact that the people he helps — all typically weird Buñuel characters — don’t appreciate what he does for them; it’s a common Buñuel theme” — as in Viridiana (1961), for instance — “that good, even saintly works, are wasted on ignorant, self-interested, self-professed Christians.”

Peary concludes his review by noting that this “brief film” (just 43 minutes long) “ends with [an] unsatisfactory jolt,” but he argues that “until then, [the] parable is great fun and thought-provoking.” (The film’s truncated running time was due to financial constraints.)

I’ll admit that I’m not quite sure what to make of this shorter-than-typical-length feature, which may have been better suited as part of an omnibus. (Pinal — whose husband Gustavo Alatriste was the film’s producer — has noted this was under consideration.) Peary’s assertion that God “doesn’t seem to care [Simon] exists” may be true, but to what end? Are we meant to reflect on how religiosity serves its own functions, separate and apart from any kind of “evidence” from a higher power or gratitude from the world? If Simon himself is satisfied with his life of martyrdom, should that be sufficient, regardless of what he actually accomplishes? Personally, I’d rather watch movies about real-life heroes who seemed to legitimately deserve their sainthood, though Buñuel’s take on the topic is an intriguing satire that’s worth a one-time look.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Gabriel Figueroa’s cinematography

Must See?
No, though it’s recommended.

Links:

Billy Jack (1971)

Billy Jack (1971)

“On this reservation, I am the law.”

Synopsis:
A half-Indian Green Beret vet named Billy Jack (Tom Laughlin) — who runs a progressive boarding school with his pacifist wife (Delores Taylor) — provides safe haven for a pregnant runaway teen (Julie Webb) abused by her father (Kenneth Tobey), and protects wild horses from slaughter by the town’s bullying head honcho (Bert Freed) and equally toxic son (David Roya).

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Boarding Schools
  • Counterculture
  • Native Americans
  • Racism and Race Relations
  • Veterans

Response to Peary’s Review:
As Peary writes, “Tom Laughlin introduced us to his title character… in 1967’s successful ‘biker’ film, Born Losers,” and then went on to make this lucrative cult film — a “phenomenon at the box office” “designed to entice the enormous alienated-youth audience.” He points out that this “uncontroversial film is for justice and equality, yoga, the creative arts, meditation, role-play therapy, wild horses, and gun control; it is against bigotry, bullies, childbeaters and formal education.”

But he notes that “the eerie part” about this film’s success “is that its nonviolent audience most enjoyed the violence perpetrated by Billy Jack on the conservative types who are threatening the children at pacifist Taylor’s school,” and he points out that “it’s particularly disturbing when the kids in the film give Billy Jack a ‘power’ salute, signifying that he is their savior.”

Peary adds that “it’s clear that Laughlin wanted viewers to think of him and his character as one and the same.”

He concedes that the “picture isn’t badly made: [the] hapkido scenes are exciting, Taylor gives a very moving account of what it feels like to be raped”:

… “and Laughlin makes a good, charismatic action hero.” However, it is also “pretentious and badly flawed” in many ways.

Peary elaborates upon the film’s success and challenges in his Cult Movies book, where he notes that the husband-wife filmmaking team of Laughlin and Taylor themselves referred to the production as “one of the weirdest success stories in modern cinema history.” In a nutshell, the couple amicably withdrew from their initial contract with AIP, eventually getting 20th Century Fox to provide financial backing — but when Laughlin found out that Richard “Zanuck had taken the print of the film from the studio vault before Laughlin finished editing it and was planning to cut it on his own,” “Laughlin sneaked the soundtrack out of the lab and left Zanuck with an expensive film that had no sound,” eventually resulting in Zanuck agreeing “to sell Laughlin his picture.” (To be honest, I think a film about all these shenanigans sounds more interesting than the movie in its current form.)

Eventually, “the Laughlins took their $650,000 completed film to Warners, which bought it for 1.8 million” and released it “almost three years after production began” — at which point “it quickly became known as the sleeper of the year, with people (mostly juveniles and college students) going back to see it four and five times”, and the film eventually earning “a phenomenal $30 million.” However, “the Laughlins were not satisfied” and after bringing a “suit against Warners for improperly publicizing the film,” it was re-released in 1973 through a “four-walling” distribution scheme and “went on to rake in another fortune.” Two sequels were then made (both listed in GFTFF) but the phenomenon eventually blew over.

I’m not a fan of this film, which may have been well-intentioned but comes across as extremely muddled and pretentious — and very much a product of its times. There is one powerful scene, in which anti-Indian racism is enacted explicitly (in the ice cream store):

… but this leads to — violence. It’s also nice seeing Kenneth Tobey on screen, serving as a bridge to earlier cinematic history.

However, Taylor’s non-acting skills (in spite of her obvious earnestness) is a major detriment to the film, and it’s infuriating seeing a lack of any “real” Indians with grit or nuance. As Peary writes, “Most Indians are kept in the film’s background — except for the nebbish Martin [Stan Rice], who carries around a saying by St. Francis of Assisi and allows the girl he loves to learn to ride a horse while she’s pregnant.”

(Speaking of Rice and the other presumably Indigenous actors in the cast, one wonders how much money they made from its success — if anything.)

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

Must See?
No, but it’s worth a one-time look simply for its historical significance.

Links:

Cutter’s Way / Cutter and Bone (1981)

Cutter’s Way / Cutter and Bone (1981)

“Sooner or later, you’re going to have to make a decision about something.”

Synopsis:
A disabled Vietnam vet named Cutter (John Heard) collaborates with his reluctant friend Bone (Jeff Bridges) to investigate a murder potentially committed by a local tycoon (Stephen Elliott).

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Amateur Sleuths
  • Blackmail
  • Friendship
  • Jeff Bridges Films
  • John Heard Films
  • Veterans

Response to Peary’s Review:
As Peary writes, “this fascinating adaptation of Newton Thornburg’s riveting novel” was “directed by Ivan Passer, a Czech emigre who [had] the knack to zero in on distinct American types ignored by American directors, from the elite to the nobodies.” His “main characters” in this case are “nobodies: three children of the sixties whose optimism was smothered by the dark reality of Vietnam and who refuse to take their places as adults in the present, poisonous America — symbol of their defeat.”

He adds, “These three thrive on martyrdom, feed off each other’s infirmities, and find security in each other’s inability to accomplish anything,” which manifests differently for each. Richard Bone (Jeff Bridges), for instance, “is a handsome, overage beach bum who picks up a few bucks by sleeping with middle-aged married women” (like Nina van Pallandt below).

Meanwhile, “his best friend is Alexander Cutter (John Heard), who spends his time drinking, complaining, philosophizing, and, in his hard-to-take raspy voice, insulting anyone he sees — while his depressed, worn-out wife, Mo (Lisa Eichhorn), stays in their filthy home and drinks.”

Part of this trio’s internal drama — in addition to Bone’s crush on Mo — is that “Cutter, who lost an eye, an arm, and a leg in Vietnam, resents Bone because while Cutter was away fighting, Bone had… avoided danger and commitment.” However, “Cutter feels more animosity toward rich men of the type who sent him to war to protect their concerns.”

The storyline itself centers on an accidental sighting of a crime: “When Bone thinks he saw tycoon J.J. Cord (Stephen Elliott) dispose of the body of a murdered woman, Cutter convinces Bone to act for the first time in his life.”

We then follow “Cutter, Bone and Valerie (Ann Dusenberry)” — sister of the murdered woman — as they “embark on a scheme to blackmail Cord” (to say more would spoil, so I won’t).

Peary ends his review by noting that “this whodunit in which the mystery isn’t that important is uncompromisingly written [by Jeffrey Alan Fiskin], erotic, sinister, disarmingly emotional, and eerily photographed by Jordan Cronenweth. And the acting is great.”

Indeed, in Alternate Oscars, Peary names Heard Best Actor of the Year, conceding that as hard as it was for audiences to “put up with [Henry] Fonda’s constantly sniping character in On Golden Pond” (for which he finally won an overdue Oscar), “Heard’s antihero… really tests one’s tolerance.” He points out that “in the late seventies and early eighties there was no one better than John Heard at playing young misfits, be it hipster icon Jack Kerouac in Heart Beat, or sixties survivors in Between the Lines, Head Over Heels / Chilly Scenes of Winter, and Cutter’s Way, three major cult films of the Woodstock generation.” In all of these films, Heard “played his real characters with intelligence, fury, and the correct dose of past-their-eras confusion,” men who “feel frustration because while they remain young the world is aging around them and changing in ways antithetical to what they had striven for” — yet they hold “on to their values” and want “to make a last stand.”

In Alternate Oscars, Peary elaborates upon his no-holds-barred description of Heard’s Cutter — “a brilliantly conceived and played character” — as someone who “has worse manners than the one-legged, one-armed, one-eyed pirates he resembles,” “drinks far too much, dresses sloppily and is ill-groomed and hostile, has suicidal tendencies, is full of self-pity, and puts himself on public display.” Moreover, “he always reminds everyone that he’s crippled,” and is “so irritating” that “you’ll likely want to trip him.” He points out that “it took guts for Heard to play such a character and have to win audience sympathy for the film to succeed.”

In Cult Movies 2, Peary discusses other elements of the movie, including its rocky release under its original title (Cutter and Bone), and its re-emergence as a cult neo-noir favorite (which it has retained to this day). He admits that he was “slightly disappointed” in the film when he “first saw it,” and “agreed with those who complained it was boring in spots, confusing, and had three of the most infuriating lead characters in cinema history.” (I agree; I really struggled to watch this for the first time years ago — in part because I was groggy from health issues and not really awake enough to focus on it — and will admit I had no real interest in a revisit until it was time to finally write this review.)

However, Peary adds that he’s since “come to learn” this “is a picture that demands several viewings to be judged fairly,” and “can be enjoyed only by those willing to accept certain facts: a movie with a whodunit needn’t be about the mystery…; lead characters needn’t be crowd pleasers; [and] ambiguity can be intentional, and also profound.” He now believes that “Cutter’s Way is an original, endlessly fascinating work,” a “picture that shifts directions at every turn” — beginning “in classic noir style, with its darkness, rain-soaked streets, and violent murder,” yet “thereafter we’re in bright California sunshine” where “the sensation of menace is even more pervasive.”

Peary describes the protagonists as individuals who “have not made the dramatic transition from young people to adult,” noting, “They are too irresponsible to even take care of themselves; none has a real job, there’s no food in the refrigerator, Cutter’s driver’s license has expired and his insurance has lapsed, they choose to live in permanent squalor, and [he] wouldn’t be surprised if each has some uncontrolled infection or social disease” (!!!). Finally, he describes Eichhorn’s Mo as someone who is “still beautiful, but the beauty in her life has been lost.”

He adds, “She is worn out, and like Dorothy Malone in The Tarnished Angels (1957), who is also committed to staying with a broken man, is too weak to fight the fates or accept responsibility for not improving either her man’s or her own lot.” She comes across in stark contrast with the lurking, quiet, savvy wife (Patricia Donohue) of tycoon Cord, who will do whatever it takes to keep her life of privilege uninterrupted.

Finally, in Cult Movies 2, Peary comments on the friendship between Cutter and Bone, noting that “they need each other” and “Bone sticks by Cutter because he truly hopes Cutter will goad him into making that genuine commitment to something worthwhile — the same reason Humphrey Bogart accepts Claude Rains’s persistent jibes in Casablanca (1942).” Viewers will ultimately have to decide for themselves if this film merits comparison with such a lauded cinematic classic, but it’s certainly worth at least a one-time visit to find out.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • John Heard as Alex Cutter
  • Jeff Bridges as Richard Bone
  • Lisa Eichhorn as Mo Cutter
  • Jordan Cronenweth’s cinematography
  • Jack Nitzsche’s unusual score

Must See?
Yes — though it’s not a personal favorite. Nominated as one of the Best Pictures of the Year in Peary’s Alternate Oscars.

Categories

  • Cult Movie
  • Noteworthy Performance(s)

Links: