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Month: December 2023

Tanya’s Island (1980)

Tanya’s Island (1980)

“How much did you miss me? Sometimes I wonder if you need me at all.”

Synopsis:
When a model (Vanity) and her partner (Richard Sargent) end up on an island with a gorilla (Don McLeod), an unusual love triangle ensues.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Cross Cultural Romance
  • Deserted Island
  • Love Triangle
  • Primates

Review:
It’s unfortunate that Alfred Sole — director of the horror cult classic Alice, Sweet Alice (1977) — followed up with this nearly unwatchable dreck. Rather than engaging in any attempt at analysis, I’ll simply cite from Graeme Clark’s review for Spinning Image:

This strange item of exoticism was written by its producer Pierre Brousseau and for the male viewers it poses that age old problem. You’re artistic, sensitive but manly, and entirely self-sufficient – so why is your girlfriend interested in a gorilla?

That is the question, indeed. Viewers at the time were likely intrigued and/or excited to see Vanity — best known as lead singer of Nasty 6, which performed Prince’s “Nasty Girl” — in a leading role featuring plenty of nudity:

… and Rick Baker designed the gorilla suit, for what that’s worth.

But the storyline (such as it is — I’ll leave all surprises to you) is sorely lacking.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:
Really, not much.

Must See?
Nope; skip this one.

Links:

Taking Off (1971)

Taking Off (1971)

“How many times have we found our children, only to lose them again?”

Synopsis:
When their teenage daughter (Linnea Heacock) goes missing, Mrs. Tyne (Lynn Carlin) and her husband Larry (Buck Henry) join the Society for Parents of Fugitive Children, where they learn to smoke pot and and mingle with a pair of freewheeling new friends (Audra Lindley and Paul Benedict).

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Comedy
  • Generation Gap
  • Milos Forman Films
  • Runaways
  • Search

Review:
Milos Forman’s American debut was this time-capsule comedic sketch about generational alienation during the height of the countercultural era. We quickly learn that Mr. and Mrs. Tyne — rather than their missing daughter, who only speaks a few words — are the true protagonists of the film, representing all the well-meaning but utterly clueless parents of teenagers seeking more expressive, less repressive lives for themselves.


The expansiveness of this desire is well encapsulated by the sprawling opening sequence (actually intercut throughout the entire first half of the screenplay) wherein dozens of teenage girls audition for an unknown show.

As in The Fireman’s Ball (1967), Forman seems to take great delight in showing a wide variety of distinctive young female faces.




Meanwhile, Carlin and Henry socialize with their seemingly square friends (Georgia Engel and Tony Harvey):

… and after a series of phone calls, nebbishy Henry (giving off serious Woody Allen vibes) is sent out on the town to comb for his daughter, which leads him to meet a married woman (Audra Lindley) he instantly hits it off with.

Eventually Carlin, Henry, Lindley, and Benedict all end up at a massive banquet for parents just like themselves, looking for their teenage children who have gone astray.

In an extended gag, the banquet-goers engage in an experiential lesson in pot smoking — and after this, we see a hotel-room strip poker game far wilder than anything the parents’ kids are getting into.

The seemingly improvisational narrative (actually co-scripted by Forman, John Guare, and Jean-Claude Carrière) is all crafted to highlight the absurdity and hypocrisy of parents whose concern for their kids might be much better placed examining their own lives and neuroticisms. Watch for numerous recognizable names and faces as peripheral members of the cast, including Kathy (“Bobo”) Bates, Carly Simon, and Jessica Harper auditioning:

… Vincent Schiavelli (playing himself) as the pot-smoking instructor:

… and Ike and Tina Turner performing.

Most startling random sequence: a nude young female cellist performs in a restaurant.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Quirky performances by the leads
  • Effective use of location shooting in New York City
  • Several humorous sequences

Must See?
No, but it’s worth a look for its cultural relevance and as Forman’s American debut. Listed as a Cult Movie in the back of Peary’s book.

Links:

Bronte Sisters, The (1979)

Bronte Sisters, The (1979)

“Literature cannot and should not be a feminine occupation.”

Synopsis:
In 19th century Britain, Charlotte (Marie-France Pisier), Emily (Isabelle Adjani), Anne (Isabelle Huppert), and Branwell Bronte (Pascal Greggory) live with their father (Patrick Magee) and aunt (Alice Sapritch) while writing novels (under male pen names) that would soon become famous.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Biopics
  • Feminism and Women’s Issues
  • French Films
  • Historical Drama
  • Isabelle Huppert Films
  • Siblings
  • Writers

Review:
Although I’ve read both Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights, I went into this French biopic about Charlotte and Emily Bronte — and their two surviving siblings, Anne and Branwell — knowing nothing at all about their circumstances or life trajectories. This allowed me to simply immerse myself in the tale on display, which is atmospherically filmed (by DP Bruno Nuytten) and shows fine attention to period detail.

After doing a little reading, I realized that the screenplay actually offers a reasonably accurate overview of how things seemed to play out for them. We see Branwell working on a self-portrait with his family (he later rubbed his own image out):

… Emily dressing in men’s clothing and heading out onto the windswept moors:

… Anne serving as a faithful companion:

… and Charlotte eventually heading (with Emily) to study French in Brussels, where she falls for her older teacher (Xavier Depraz).

Interestingly, with just a couple of exceptions, we see surprisingly little writing being done — I wonder why? (In the clip below, Charlotte is doing that annoying kind of movie-writing where she’s not actually looking at her paper, instead making doleful faces at the camera — and she’s writing a letter, not one of her novels)

At any rate, we also see Branwell’s ill-fated romance with an older (married) woman (Hélène Surgère):

… and how quickly illness overtakes various members of the family, killing off three siblings within eight months.

Much of this is undeniably bleak, so viewers should be forewarned — though it’s likely that fans of the Brontes will already know this, and simply be grateful for this visual glimpse into what their existence may have looked like.

Note: Patrick Magee as the Reverend Bronte barely registers on screen; I suspect this was due to significant cuts being made to bring the film down from three to two hours.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Isabelle Adjani as Emily Bronte
  • Isabelle Huppert as Anne Bronte
  • Bruno Nuytten’s cinematography

Must See?
No, but it’s worth a one time look for its visuals alone. Listed as a Cult Movie in the back of Peary’s book.

Links:

Avanti! (1972)

Avanti! (1972)

“Don’t bother me with details — just do it!”

Synopsis:
When a boorish business magnate (Jack Lemmon) arrives in Ischia to collect his deceased father’s body, he encounters a young woman (Juliet Mills) also there to collect her mother’s body — at which point he learns that their parents were having annual trysts on the island. Will Lemmon — with help from a solicitous hotel manager (Clive Revill) — be able to get his father’s body back to Baltimore in time for a massive memorial service, or will Mills somehow get in the way?

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Billy Wilder Films
  • Death and Dying
  • Grown Children
  • Infidelity
  • Jack Lemmon Films
  • Romantic Comedy

Review:
Billy Wilder’s fourth-to-last film — made just after The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes (1970) — was this romantic comedy collaboration with his longtime writing partner I.A.L. Diamond, based on a 1968 play by Samuel L. Taylor. While it’s beloved (or at least appreciated) by all four of the (male) reviewers I cite below, I found this film pretty hard to take, at least at first — especially given what a flaming a**hole Lemmon is when we first meet him (and for quite a while thereafter):

… as well as how frequently the screenplay refers to Mills as some variation of fat (!). (She’s her own worst critic around this topic, but it doesn’t help that Lemmon is quick to agree time and again.) While Mills is quite charming (what does she see in him?):

… and the storyline (and Lemmon) eventually become more tolerable, I was fully soured by this point, and had trouble appreciating either the sporadic humor (some of which works) or the extra-marital romance that eventually blooms (with flagrant disregard, naturally, for Lemmon’s wife and kids back home). The film’s best feature is its fine location shooting, which certainly makes Ischia look like a tremendously appealing get-away.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Juliet Mills as Pamela Piggott
  • Clive Revill as Carlo Carlucci
  • Fine location shooting in Italy

Must See?
No; you can skip this one.

Links:

Reflections on Must-See Films From 1960

Reflections on Must-See Films From 1960

Back in April of this year, I wrote a celebratory piece about finally finishing reviews for every title in GFTFF released before 1960. I reflected a bit on the 1950s as a cinematic decade, and enjoyed this process enough that I thought I might keep going — but this time, year by year.

“She just goes – a little mad sometimes. We all go a little mad sometimes. Haven’t you?”

Today, I posted a review on the final film left from 1960: Luchino Visconti’s Rocco and His Brothers (1960). It’s a gorgeously mounted film, well worth the three-hour investment, but Luchino’s films are enough of a — well, shall we say, a commitment that I don’t tend to jump into them willingly. (I still have four of his titles left.)

With that said, as I look over the chronological list of all titles in GFTFF from 1960, here are a few thoughts and highlights:

  • Out of the 67 total titles, I voted Yes on 32, which is nearly half — not a bad ratio! It’s these must-see titles I’ll focus on in this post.
  • Of these 32 titles, 17 (more than half!) are non-Hollywood films, indicating a definite trend in what was becoming worth watching at that time. We see six Italian (one dubbed), six British, two French, one Indian, one Swedish, and one independently made title.
  • Five of the remaining must-sees from 1960 are westerns, and four more are historical dramas set in different times. That leaves just five must-see American films set in contemporary times.
  • Enough with the numbers! What else stands out as notable from this list? Psycho is the clear frontrunner, and wins Peary’s (and my) award as Best Alternate Oscars Film of the Year. It really can’t be topped, and is among my personal five favorite films of all time (if I HAD to narrow all the goodness of cinema down to such a minimalist list).
  • Village of the Damned remains a creepy-classic-British-horror-cult-flick (that’s a mouthful) which I wouldn’t mind watching again at any moment. (That hair. Those stares.)
  • Having just watched gorgeous Alain Delon in Rocco and His Brothers, I must point out that he also starred that year in Purple Noon — a dishy, colorful Patricia Highsmith adaptation by Rene Clair, which was a treat to discover.
  • I’m a personal fan of Louis Malle’s delightfully surreal Zazie Dans le Metro, which is probably my favorite of his oeuvre (though Atlantic City is a close second). It’s jam-packed enough that it easily lends itself to multiple viewings.
  • John Huston’s The Unforgiven merits a broader look — especially given how often it’s shunted aside in favor of its more famous near-title-twin (not a remake) from 1992. Lillian Gish had a few significant “wins” in her post-silents career, and this is one of them.
  • Deservedly praised (from all corners) is Billy Wilder’s The Apartment, which has held up well on just about every front. Give it another look if you haven’t in a while.
  • Budd Boetticher gave us many fine, tight little westerns — including Comanche Station, which has a surprisingly lump-inducing (and overall surprising) ending.
  • Finally, I’ll note that The Savage Eye — a pseudo-documentary “made on weekends over a year’s time by a collective team of directors — Ben Maddow, Sidney Meyers, and Joseph Strick” — is a uniquely hypnotic film about loneliness and despair, and one I plan to revisit at some point (but maybe as a double-header with Pollyanna to round it out!)

I only have two more films left to review from 1961, so I’ll be back soon with my overview of that year in classic cinema!

Rocco and His Brothers (1960)

Rocco and His Brothers (1960)

“The whole world’s like a one-way street.”

Synopsis:
Shortly after a widow (Katina Paxinou) from southern Italy migrates to Milan with her four younger sons — Simone (Renato Salvatori), Rocco (Alain Delon), Ciro (Max Cartier), and Luca (Rocco Vidolazzi) — to be near their older brother Vincenzo (Spiros Focas) and his fiancee (Claudia Cardinale), the siblings find themselves at odds with one another’s choices in life and love, particularly given the presence of an alluring prostitute (Annie Girardot).

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Alain Delon Films
  • Boxing
  • Claudia Cardinale Films
  • Immigrants and Immigration
  • Italian Films
  • Love Triangle
  • Luchino Visconti Films
  • Prostitutes and Gigolos
  • Siblings

Review:
This fourth title by Luchino Visconti listed in Peary’s GFTFF — after Ossessione (1943), La Terra Trema (1948), and Senso (1954) — tells the dramatic, nearly Shakespearian tale of a fatherless family navigating a new life in the big city. Paxinou is feisty, passionate, and opinionated as the matriarch who initially disapproves of her oldest son’s engagement:

… but our attention quickly turns to Salvatori, who looks the part of the boxer he soon becomes:

… and whose infatuation with Girardot sparks his downfall.

Meanwhile, Delon (“Rocco” of the title) becomes the primary focus of the storyline once he takes up boxing himself — and also falls for Girardot.

However, it’s Delon’s hardcore family loyalty which ultimately drives his actions to a fault, serving as an unwavering narrative throughline. While we learn a bit about Cartier and Vidolazzi (the youngest two sons), primary tensions continue to circulate around Salvatori, Delon, and Girardot:

… as well as Salvatori’s mounting debts. The film is beautifully photographed (by DP Giuseppe Rotunno) — with effective location shooting throughout Milan — and features fine acting by the leads. Although it’s a bit of a long haul at nearly three hours, it’s worth the investment.

Note: This was the film that introduced Francis Ford Coppola to composer Nino Roti, who scored his Godfather movies (among others).

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Alain Delon as Rocco
  • Renato Salvatori as Simone
  • Annie Girardot as Nadia
  • Giuseppe Rotunno’s cinematography


  • Nino Rota’s score

Must See?
Yes, as a powerful Italian classic. Listed as a film with Historical Relevance and a Personal Recommendation in the back of Peary’s book.

Categories

  • Important Director

(Listed in 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die)

Links:

Paris, Texas (1984)

Paris, Texas (1984)

“I never felt like you were dead.”

Synopsis:
When a disheveled man (Harry Dean Stanton) is found wandering the desert after four years away, his brother (Dean Stockwell) takes him back to his home, where he and his wife (Aurore Clément) have been raising Stanton’s son (Hunter Carson) ever since Stanton and Carson’s mother (Nastassja Kinski) separately disappeared four years earlier. Will Stanton be able to reunite with his son and with Kinski?

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Dean Stockwell Films
  • Father and Child
  • Harry Dean Stanton Films
  • Marital Problems
  • Nastassja Kinski Films
  • Road Trip
  • Search
  • Wim Wenders Films

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary begins his review of this modern road-trip classic by reminding us that “Wim Wenders’s German films” — i.e., Alice in the Cities (1974) and Kings of the Road (1976) — “typically dealt with men who spent their lives on the open road, escaping from marriages they couldn’t cope with, and leaving behind wives and children they longed for, creating not only a destroyed marriage but a destroyed family.” He adds that “in his second American film, which was adapted from [a] Sam Shepard story by L.M. ‘Kit’ Carson, Wenders at last gives his hero the opportunity to put his family back together, to make up for all his mistakes as [a] husband and father” — and “this time Wenders really brings home the meaning of the child to his hero.”

He notes that after the first third of the movie, when Stanton is picked up and taken home by Stockwell, “the major part of the picture deals with how the father and son become acquainted and fall in love,” then “hit the road in search of Stanton’s ex-wife” — leading to “the final third, written after the rest of the movie was filmed,” in which “Stanton, who keeps his identity a secret,” is “talking to Kinski, who works in a sex-fantasy booth.”

He writes that “this is the kind of arty picture that some people applaud for its revelations about familial relationships while others accuse it of being shamefully pretentious.” For his own part, Peary argues that the “story has the potential to be a real charmer, but Wenders, Carson, and cinematographer Robby Müller approach [the] material [too] dispassionately.” While “there are tears, [and] there is humor,” “Wenders’s unbearably slow pacing and the bleakness of [the] Texas landscape and cityscape overwhelm [the] characters, minimizing their touching moments and almost depriving the picture of warmth.”

I was unhappily surprised to find, upon revisiting this film, that I’m somewhat in agreement with Peary’s assessment. While the film is gorgeous and provocative, there were too many details and questions that left me unsatisfied this time around. First, what led to Stanton’s extreme catatonia?

Much later in the film, Stanton tells (reminds?) Kinski in the booth about the trauma that happened earlier in their marriage — but having this all delivered in a monologue isn’t sufficient, and comes far too late. Second, why don’t Clément and Stockwell have their own kids? Obviously, not all couples have kids, but we’re left wondering if they perhaps postponed their own goals out of sacrificing to care for Carson. (Not everyone will mind about this detail, but it stood out to me, especially given how uber-maternal Clément is.)

Third, how could Kinski not recognize her husband’s voice much earlier on in their interactions? While their sequences together in the booth ‘work’ on an artistic level (they’re beautifully filmed and metaphorically rich), they don’t pass logic.

Meanwhile, as Peary himself notes, “Even if you’re not a romantic, the resolution is unsatisfying” (I agree). Not mentioned in Peary’s review — but most definitely of note — is Ry Cooder’s distinctive slide-guitar score, which almost functions as a character of its own throughout the film.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Robby Müller’s cinematography

  • Fine use of location shooting across diverse landscapes

  • Ry Cooder’s score

Must See?
Yes. Despite my own reservations, this is a modern existential classic that should be seen at least once by all film fanatics.

Categories

  • Genuine Classic

(Listed in 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die)

Links:

Roadie (1980)

Roadie (1980)

“You’re sucking away all my deodorant!”

Synopsis:
When a tech-savvy Texan beer distributor (Meatloaf) spies a wannabe groupie (Kaki Hunter) in a stranded R.V., he immediately falls in love and decides to follow her as she and her team support various bands.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Alan Rudolph Films
  • Art Carney Films
  • Comedy
  • Musicians
  • Road Trip
  • Rock ‘n Roll

Review:
Meatloaf’s first starring cinematic role was in this oddball indie flick (directed by Alan Rudolph) covering plenty of territory, including nonchalant rock stars:


… virginal groupies:

… redneck Texans:

… and a steampunk-adjacent “we’ll fix anything” salvage company run by Meatloaf’s dad (Art Carney). Meatloaf doesn’t sing, but he is subjected to various random “brainlock” episodes which make no sense whatsoever (until, possibly, the very final scene).

The film’s most notable presence is kooky Hunter, who is determined to meet and sleep with her idol, Alice (in Chains).

Carney doesn’t have much to do, but seems perfectly fine embodying his character’s can-do, don’t-give-a-damn attitude.

Music lovers might also get a kick out of how Meatloaf solves various sound tech challenges along the way (one involving literal b.s.); however, this isn’t must-see viewing except for diehard fans of Meatloaf, Rudolph, or one of the rock stars featured here.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • A resolutely quirky air throughout

Must See?
No; you can skip this one unless you’re curious.

Links:

Red Line 7000 (1965)

Red Line 7000 (1965)

“Jim died because he was running too fast over the red line.”

Synopsis:
When the fiancee (Gail Hire) of a very recently deceased NASCAR racer (Anthony Rogers) shows up at the Daytona 500, she soon finds herself romanced by a fellow driver (Skip Ward) whose French soon-to-be-former-girlfriend (Marianna Hill) has arrived with him but ends up falling for Mike (James Caan), a hot-headed driver who can’t stand the idea of Hill having formally been with Ward. Meanwhile, the younger sister (Laura Devon) of the team manager (Norman Alden) becomes smitten with an ambitious farmer-turned-driver (John Robert Crawford).

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Car Racing
  • Howard Hawks Films
  • James Caan Films
  • Jealousy
  • Love Triangle

Review:
Love triangles, fast driving, and car crashes abound in this fluffy later-life Howard Hawks film, which apparently he himself was disappointed by. According to Stuart Galbraith IV in his review for DVD Talk:

Hawks confessed he thought his own movie was a pretty worthless pile of cow dung. Conversely, Quentin Tarantino sings its praises, and French film critic director Francois Truffaut so loved it that, a dozen years later when he appeared as an actor in Close Encounters of the Third Kind, he instantly recognized Teri Garr, not for her ‘70s comedies but for her unbilled extra role as one of four dancing waitresses in Red Line 7000, so well did Truffaut know Hawks’s film.

Of all the then-unknowns, the only actor to become a star was Caan, whose character is — frankly — creepy.

Indeed, the gender and sexual politics at play here are ridiculous (we regularly hear lines like, “C,mon Julie — cut it out; you’re acting like a female.”), leaving one practically sighing at how out-of-date Hawks’s conception of such things was by the mid-’60s. With that said, Hill has good energy:

… and it’s fascinating seeing how much deep-voiced Hire looks like Paula Prentiss (though she literally can’t — and doesn’t — sing worth a lick).

Naturally, most will be interested to watch the (secondary) footage of actual car racing.

Note: Look for George Takei in a small role as a pit technician.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Colorful costumes and sets

Must See?
No, unless you’re a Hawks completist.

Links:

Reivers, The (1969)

Reivers, The (1969)

“There’s somewhere that the law stops and just people begin.”

Synopsis:
In early 20th century Mississippi, a hired hand (Steve McQueen) “borrows” a brand new Winton Flyer automobile from his employer to go on an illicit road trip with his distant cousin (Rupert Crosse) and his employer’s grandson (Mitch Vogel).

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Burgess Meredith Films
  • Coming of Age
  • Deep South
  • Historical Drama
  • Juano Hernandez Films
  • Road Trip
  • Steve McQueen Films

Review:
Mark Rydell directed this adaptation of William Faulkner’s final novel (awarded the Pulitzer Prize in fiction), made in part to bank upon the popularity of McQueen, who was fresh from success in Bullitt (1968) and The Thomas Crown Affair (1968) [not listed in GFTFF]. Unfortunately, their collaboration soured pretty quickly, and the resulting film is far from satisfying. I haven’t read Faulkner’s novel, but it’s difficult to tell from this film what its primary themes are, other than presenting a “picaresque” rascal (McQueen) as a protagonist and showing a kid coming-of-age.

Perhaps this film held more appeal to viewers at the time who were familiar with the source material, and/or were simply eager to see McQueen. Crosse (in his final cinematic role) was nominated for a Supporting Actor Oscar, but his character doesn’t have much depth, either.

Meanwhile, poor Juano Hernandez — given a meaty starring role in an earlier Faulkner adaptation, 1949’s Intruder in the Dust — is relegated to a brief appearance here as “Uncle Possum”, with his most significant scene showing him getting undressed for bed and lying down chastely next to Vogel, after reminding him to say his prayers. (Why was this important enough to take up screentime? And what’s with the earlier sequence of naked boys jumping into a lake?)

Speaking of racial tensions, they’re mostly glossed over here in a blatantly revisionist fashion, as though Blacks and Whites in turn-of-the-century South — with the exception of a few bigots, naturally — played and worked together just fine. (“We didn’t fear death, in those days, because we believed that your outside was just what you lived in and slept in, and had no connection to what you were,” Burgess Meredith reassures us in the narration.)

The main star of the film was the fictional Winton Flyer vehicle that shows up in town during the opening sequence, and is the fulcrum around which all major plot devices hinge. After filming, McQueen kept it in his own personal car collection, and it’s now available for viewing at the Petersen Automotive Museum in L.A.

Notable Performances, Qualities, and Moments:

  • Mitch Vogel as Lucius

Must See?
No; you can skip this one.

Links: