Serenity Redux

We're only a little over a day away from the release of the highly anticipated Serenity feature film. Having seen the film already, I can't stress enough that if you have any interest in seeing it--and damn well you should!--do not read any reviews before hand. They're bound to give major plot points away and ruin the whole experience for you. Trust me, the film is fantastic and is without a doubt one of the best SF films in years. It's well written, acted, and doesn't pull any emotional punches. Director-writer Joss Whedon has made something unique here and old fans of Firefly as well as new ones are bound to experience something special. The less you know about the plot . . . the better. Anyway, go and see it and have a blast.

Short Cuts: Race with the Devil (1975)

Two married couples—Warren Oates and Loretta Swit, Peter Fonda and Lara Parker—decide to head it on out to the highway in their behemoth deluxe-equipped RV(!), taking it easy as they meander from Texas to Aspen, Colorado. That’s the plan, at any rate. But the first night on the road, after some good food and lots of drink, Oates and Fonda witness a bizarre and startling satanic sacrifice near the wooded area where the couples camped for the night. The satanists spot them and the chase is on, baby. Haulin’ ass through rural Texas is never an easy endeavor, but when the Dark Prince’s minions are bent on bringing thy ass down low, you can expect more than a heap of trouble along the way. Race with the Devil is simply a pure, unpretentious B-movie, and I mean that with all respect. Damn, they sure don’t make ‘em like this any more. Oates and Fonda are a whole lot of fun to watch, as are the numerous character actors that come in and out of the picture—like the always reliable R. G. Armstrong as a suspicious sheriff. Great stunts, an ever-increasing mood of paranoia, and plenty of suspense make this little movie one helluva good time. It may not be the best horror movie ever made, but it sure is more enjoyable than you’ll think it’ll be. Hell, it’s better than most of the horror crap seeping out of Hollywood today, no question about it.

High on Fire: Fire and Ice (1983)

I was never a big Frank Frazetta fan when I was a teenager. Strange, since I loved heavy metal bands like Black Sabbath, Judas Priest, Iron Maiden, Celtic Frost, Venom, and all the other putrid, diseased, full-on scavengers of noise and death that appropriated fantasy art for their record and CD covers. With that much leather, spikes, and bullet-belts on display, you’d think that my aesthetic taste would have veered toward the muscular phantasmagoria of Frazetta’s work. But you know what? It all seemed a little over-the-top and silly for me. I was all about Bosch, Dali, Bacon, and Giger at that time. Though I admired his work on a technical level, Frazetta’s paintings of big, buxom women and savage he-men was too much of a suspension of disbelief for my skinny, white, six-foot suburban ass.

Now, years later, I understand. I get it and damn, if I don’t love Frazetta’s superb fantasy illustrations and paintings. His work is strange, seductive, majestic, and violent with drama and action. Frazetta is our modern-day Rembrandt fueled on steroids and LSD. Unfortunately, because the fine art world snubs painters and illustrators who choose to work in the genre of the fantastique or who are popular to the masses, artists like Frazetta, Giger, and countless others are disregarded as mere hacks. A sad tragedy indeed. Because when Frazetta is gone, the world will lose one of the greatest commercial artists who ever lived. Hell, one of the greatest artists, period.

Back in 1983, animation director Ralph Bakshi (Fritz the Cat, Heavy Traffic, Wizards, American Pop) collaborated with Frazetta to produce a full-length feature film that would showcase both their talents to the highest degree and further their mutual love of fantasy and epic action. Fire and Ice was the result, and though the final product was far from perfect and doesn’t honestly deliver the goods when it comes to translating Frazetta’s work to celluloid, there is still plenty to admire and enjoy. Set within the lost mists of history, in a primordial age where brute strength and barbarism dominates all, the film’s streamlined plot focuses on the evil Nekron—an albino prince whose kingdom resides within massive glaciers from the north and who rules over a savage race of subhumans—and his will to overthrow the kingdoms of the south. Toss in a voluptuous kidnapped princess, the requisite solemn hero who must avenge his fellow villagers who were unfortunate enough to be crushed by Nekron’s forces, a mysterious masked rider named Darkwolf, and you have the ingredients for an afternoon of heavy metal fantasies and escapism. I really wish the plot could’ve been more complex and less accommodating to the clichés of the sword & sorcery genre, and the dialogue, though sparse, is really awful, but the film more than makes up for its inadequacies with loads of swift action and psychedelic animation. It’s not perfect by any means, and it’s obvious that Bakshi was hampered by a low budget, but Fire and Ice should satiate the twelve-year-old in us all who has never ceased from wanting to answer the riddle of steel.

The 2-disc limited edition DVD, released by Blue Underground, also contains the even better—in fact thoroughly superb—documentary, Frazetta: Painting with Fire (2003), directed by Lance Laspina. Filled with numerous interviews with colleagues, family members, as well as the man himself, Painting with Fire is a loving tribute to the master and his work. Even people who have no interest in this type of fantasy art should find the film fascinating and will perhaps go away with a much better understanding of why Frazetta’s work will continue to enchant generations to come.

Short Cuts: Night of the Living Dead (1968)

So much has been written about this seminal horror film, but I guess I’ll add my two cents to the bulk, dross, and critical appraisal however redundant it may be. Though I’ve seen this film numerous times throughout my life, it’s been awhile, and Lynda and I have been planning on revisiting George A. Romero’s original “Living Dead” trilogy in preparation for the DVD release of the fourth, uncut installment, Land of the Dead, in October. Our enthusiasm was also high since we watched the new Starz Encore documentary Midnight Movies a couple of nights ago, which focuses on six of the first true cult films of the late-1960s-early 1970s, NOTLD being one of them. Well, we just finished watching it and man, does it hold up. For those of you who have never seen it (is there really anyone over the age of ten who hasn’t?), NOTLD is one of the great horror films of all time dealing with a disparate group of humans held-up in a country house, forced to battle a marauding tide of flesh-eating zombies gathering outside while battling one another inside. Shot in stark black & white, the film is powerful, politically subversive (especially for the time), and filled with nightmarish images of the living dead scavengers devouring their human victims, ripping them apart, and tussling with their gutty works like ignorant children playing with streams of silly string. But however visceral and disconcerting the violence may be, the real impact of the film stems from the selfishness and recklessness that the human characters perpetuate and from the savage dénouement that never fails to leave me shattered. Sure, some of the performances are awkward or amateurish (many of the “actors” were locals or friends of the filmmakers), but Duane Jones’ lead role as Ben, the reluctant yet resourceful “hero” of the film, is thoroughly excellent and commanding. The film is also not as slick as the subsequent chapters in the series, but Romero’s direction and editing is frequently startling and brilliant. It’s not by chance that this ruthless blast of cinematic apocalypse has managed to infiltrate the pantheon of great horror films. Next up for our viewing pleasure . . . Romero’s follow-up, Dawn of the Dead, will be screened and I can’t fucking wait.

Robert Wise

Over his long and distinguished career, director Robert Wise dipped his creative hand into just about every popular film genre around. If you liked the hard-boiled stuff, there was Born to Kill (1947) with Lawrence Tierney or the classic boxing film, The Set-Up (1949), starring Robert Ryan. Horror fans could sink their teeth into The Curse of the Cat People (1944), The Body Snatcher (1945) with Karloff and Lugosi, the bona fide classic The Haunting (1963), and the sadly underrated Audrey Rose (1977). There were Westerns—Blood on the Moon (1948), Two Flags West (1950)--; historical epics—Helen of Troy (1956)--; war/action—The Desert Rats (1953), Destination Gobi (1953), Run Silent Run Deep (1958), and The Sand Pebbles (1966) with Steve McQueen; melodrama—Executive Suite (1954), I Want to Live! (1958); science-fiction—the humanistic The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951), the scarily relevant The Andromeda Strain (1971), and the sadly turgid Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979). And then there were the musicals West Side Story (1961) and The Sound of Music (1965), which if he had directed nothing else, these two monsters of the genre would’ve been more than enough to solidify his place in Hollywood history. Wise also had his clunkers—Star! (1968), The Hindenburg (1975), and the above-mentioned first Star Trek feature-film—but his track record was more-so-than-not impressive and the work solidly entertaining, if unfortunately lacking in personality or distinction.

Before turning to directing, Wise began his career as an assistant editor for RKO and then later worked with Orson Welles on the masterpiece, Citizen Kane (1941). But Wise’s fruitful relationship with Welles was not to last after the release of The Magnificent Ambersons (1942), when the RKO suits demanded that Wise edit the film down (behind Welles’ back) from its initial 132 minutes to just 88 minutes after preview audiences grew fidgety and confused. Despite Welles’ protestations and cries of betrayal, Wise maintained that his cuts and reconfiguring of scenes simply made the film flow better and tighter. Sadly, because the original print is lost to history, we’ll never know who was right.

Robert Wise died on Wednesday, September 14^th, 2005 at the age of 91.

Short Cuts: Blood on Satan's Claw (1971)

After Michael Reeves scored big with the remarkable Witchfinder General (a.k.a. The Conqueror Worm), a whole slew of "witch hunt" films burned up the screens and gave horror fans the world over plenty to get fired-up over. Piers Haggard's film is one of the better ones. But unlike Witchfinder General, which eschewed any kind of supernatural motives to the proceedings, Satan's Claw thrusts the viewer into a demon-haunted world where the Devil truly stalks the earth and uses a gaggle of 17th century teenagers to further His diabolical ambitions. With its rich sense of atmosphere and sometimes startling imagery--the possessed youth manifest demonic scales on their flesh--the film only wavers at the end when the Devil actually makes an appearance. He may be the Prince of the Infernal, but when burdened by a low-budget He simply looks like a wet, two-legged yak. Or a monkey. Or something wet and ridiculous. Anyway . . . Satan's Claw is always interesting and should be a must-see for any true horror film connoisseur. And watch out for the very sexy Linda Hayden, who portrays the deliciously satanic Angel Blake. Think the looks of Baby Spice mixed with the soul of a Manson girl and you'll sort of get an idea of what I'm talking about. But perhaps I'm divulging too much about what makes my heart all a flutter.

Short Cuts: The Big Red One--The Reconstruction (1980/2004)

I've always enjoyed this film, but now Sam Fuller's autobiographical WWII epic is truly epic and even better than the shorter theatrical version. It's still uneven in spots, hampered by a low budget, and frustrating in its casting choices, but this longer cut (by some 47 minutes!) brings out the scope and shapes Lee Marvin's finest hour into something dramatically resonant and unforgettable. Makes Spielberg's over-rated Saving Private Ryan--despite its admittedly technical virtuosity--look like the false record of history that it is. As close to a true masterpiece that the always interesting Fuller ever made.

Short Cuts: La Ceremonie (1996)

This was my first Claude Chabrol film and I can't wait to see more. Based on Ruth Rendell's superb crime novel, A Judgement in Stone, Chabrol's film faithfully translates the story to modern-day France and dissects the class struggle buried there in ruthless style. The lead roles by Sandrine Bonnaire (Vagabond), Isabelle Huppert (The Piano Teacher, Time of the Wolf), and Jacqueline Bisset (Day for Night, Le Magnifique) are all excellent and elevate the film into the realm of sublimity. Chilling stuff.

Sympathy for Lady Vengeance

One of the first Western reviews of Park Chan-wook's latest film is now up over at Variety. Lady Vengeance is the third film of Park's "Vengeance Trilogy" and it is sure to be just as brilliant and provocative as the earlier installments, Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance and Oldboy. Check out the review here:

http://www.variety.com/review/VE1117927794?categoryid=31&cs=1

Eye of the Storm

Here's a link to a blog site by two fellas down south who survived Katrina:

http://dancingwithkatrina.blogspot.com/

And again, if you don't think you can help--YOU CAN. Really. Contact the following relief agencies and do what you're able to do :

http://www.mercycorps.org/
http://www.redcross.org/

R.I.P. R.L.

There’s a lot of misery going down outside the walls of Nightmare Town and my thoughts go out to the people suffering in the Gulf Coast. To add to the pain, blues musician R.L. Burnside died yesterday in Memphis. Burnside recorded for the splendid and essential Fat Possum label out of Oxford, Mississippi, and his CDs—especially Too Bad Jim—are faves around my home. If you’ve never had the pleasure of grooving to one of Burnside’s “primitive” blues sounds, run out and pick one up, grab a six-pack, and salute one of the last of the real bluesmen. And while you’re at it . . . donate some green to the relief effort to help those poor souls down yonder. We all gotta do our part, comrades.