#in general sorting characters based off whether they're 'good' or 'evil' is not a great approach to any media BUTTTTT AGAIN.

[starheirxero]

Unfortunately, not everyone shares the same enthusiasm as you. They think Ruin being evil ruins his character and makes him yet another evil dimensional being. That Solar and a few other dimensions are good.

I'VE SEEN A LOT OF UPSET PEOPLE YEA.

Which, I mean, to be fair they're all completely valid!! I can understand how, if you liked Ruin specifically for his charming cringefail swag and you aren't big on angsty scenarios, this is probably a shift that is hard to handle!

But I think it's important to note that Ruin doesn't necessarily seem evil. "Evil" in itself is already something I think is a bit subjective?? But that's a whole other conversation. Point is: Ruin isn't like, Eclipse levels of cruel. If Ruin were like Eclipse, he probably would have done more to scare and intimidate and hurt Sun rather than "oh I've already done everything I needed to, I'll finish watching blorbo from my shows now ^_^!"

Ruin has done something not so great but I don't think it's fair to say right now that he did it because he's evil. We don't even have the full picture yet! This is a cliffhanger babes, we gotta wait for the final presentation before giving a grade!! I can understand why people are upset, but I think we should at least wait until we have all the details before mourning. Ya know?

[singular-yike]

Musing on Ancient Mugenri History

I've been thinking about this topic recently and there's a lot in my mind, so I thought to write it down before it starts fading lol.

To be clear, this is going to involve a lot of speculation, and not much is gonna be based on concrete proof, which is a rather great departure from what I usually prefer, but hey, speculation is fun every now then~

This is gonna be split into several parts, which I hope makes things neat enough. In any case, let's begin!

The People of Mugenri

Before we look into the general ancient history of Mugenri, let's take a quick look at what the residents of Mugenri could've been like in the distant past.

Canon Information

First, let's start with the history of its population. Here, we look at these this line from A World That Isn't Fantasy — To Mugenri:

Hoojiro "Another world….. A land of a race that broke off from mankind long, long ago."

Haru immediately recognises this as referencing the "Land of Non-humans", which Tsubakura had apparently been looking into prior to being spirited away.

This land is generally accepted to refer to Mugenri, and this is the assumption I will be going off of here as well.

Additionally, let's also take a look at this bit of information from the 2021 Interview with JynX.

Characters (BPoHC) — Question 242 Q: Considering that God is moreso a qualification rather than a species, are Yago and Souko's longevity thanks to their original species rather than their status as a god? Does becoming a god even grant you new abilities? A: They both gained their longevity after becoming gods and were originally human-like.

Interpretation

Putting these two together, I propose the following: Mugenri was initially inhabited by a "primordial race", the very human-like race that Yago and Souko belonged to prior to their ascension to godhood.

Somewhere a long the way, this original race split into "humans" and "non-humans", who once co-existed peacefully but had a fall-out of some sorts.

This lead to the event Hoojiro described, the non-humans "breaking off" from the humans and settling in Mugenri, creating the "Land of Non-humans"

Caveats

There are, I think, 2 major caveats to this idea:

I'm making an assumption that the non-humans "breaking off" from the humans applies to both their evolutionary path as well as the relationship between the two.

There's nothing explicitly connecting the "human-like" race and the modern humans and non-humans.

Mugenri's Ancient History

This is where we get really speculative, as all I really have to go on are these names from BotC Back Issue EE Yabusame's Route - Stage 1:

Gods' Tabooed Land

Garden of Eden

Lost Horizon

Oppressed Land of Exile

It should absolutely be noted NiLU suggests that not all of these names originally referred to Mugenri, but that they only got conflated with Mugenri later down the line.

Nevertheless, they're helpful for taking a glimpse into Mugenri's nature. So, let's try to piece a timeline together using these names.

Step 0. Gods' Tabooed Land

"Tabooed Land" is a concept from Shinto that refers to a location said to be reserved for the gods and within which humans are forbidden, often believed to be where the gods descended to and from earth.

Admittedly, I'm unsure whether this step would be placed here or further down, hence "step 0".

If we were to place this here, this would refer to when the gods first descended to earth and started their work, landing in what would become Mugenri and creating "human-like" beings to inhabit it.

Step 1. Garden of Eden

This of course refers to the biblical paradise mentioned in Abrahamic religions where the first humans Adam and Eve once lived before being exiled by God for eating the forbidden fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.

It's a rather safe bet to place as the first stage of Mugenri, as it is where humanity originated. Paralleling, in the case of Len'en, Mugenri being where the human-like primordial race came from.

It would also be during this period that Yago Ametsukana ascended to godhood, and perhaps Souko Shirami as well, though I'm have less proof for that one outside of the two gods' basis sharing a similar time period in the irl myths.

I would guess that somewhere along the way, whether they have already speciated into human and non-humans aside, the original inhabitants of Mugenri got themselves exiled from Mugenri.

Fondly remembering the paradisical life they used to lead in Mugenri, and lamenting its lost, the land eventually became known as, or equated with, the name "Garden of Eden".

Side Note — Yago's Ascension You might be curious as to why I'm so sure that Yago's ascension is so likely to have taken place in this stage, even specifically before the residents got exiled. This comes from a spell card of theirs, Sword Shot "The Cherubim and the Whirling Sword of Flame". This spell references what the Abrahamic God sent to guard the Garden of Eden after Adam and Eve's exile. Thus, Yago having this spell card quite heavily suggests that it was the Ametsukana who forged the "whirling sword of flame" and sent it with the cherubim to guard the garden.

Step 2A. Lost Horizon

Lost Horizon is a 1933 novel by English writer James Hilton, famous for being the origin of Shangri-La, a fictional utopian lamasery.

Having been banished from Mugenri, and as the time passed, it's not beyond belief that the people (especially the humans) would've forgotten where Mugenri was once located, rending a truly lost location from their perspective.

It is also during this phase, I would guess, that the two categories of humans and non-humans must have came to be, no later than this. Explanation to come later.

Step 2B. Gods' Tabooed Land

Yep, the "Gods' Tabooed Land" returns once again. For those who did not forget Mugenri, where it was and its history; or perhaps from the gods' own perspective, Mugenri isn't "lost" at all, it's right there!

Instead, these people would've understood Mugenri as a place now exclusively belonging to the gods, and where humans especially are not allowed to enter.

(After all, while the line between human and god is fairly clear, that between youkai and god is often less so.)

Step 3. Oppressed Land of Exile

Unlike the other names, this one doesn't seem to be a reference of any sort, but is just a simple description of the land.

It is during this time period that I propose the "breaking off" between humans and non-humans must've occurred. For whatever reason, the two races were no longer able to peacefully co-exist.

This lead to the non-humans returning to Mugenri (like I mentioned, it's a lot more likely for them to know where it is after all this time). There, they either locked themselves within to cut all possible contact with the humans or they got locked within by the humans.

Having been exiled from the outside world, the inhabitants of Mugenri started a new era of their lives, adopting the Ruri calendar. "Ruri" meaning "exile", further strengthening this idea.

Side Note I've been using "Mugenri" to refer to this location this entire time, but it only makes sense to assume that this name isn't always what it was called. In fact, I think it's rather likely that it was only used after the barrier was created and a separate world formed. Here, I'll use "Ruri Mugenri", named after its Ruri calendar, to denote specifically the Mugenri as we know it now, separated from the outside by the barrier.

The "exiled non-humans" theory does raise a curious question though: Why are there also humans in Ruri Mugenri?

Of course, this could be explained simply by the fact that humans occasionally wander into Mugenri, but I get the impression that humans have always been in the Ruri Mugenri from the very beginning.

There are, in my opinion, three ways we can explain this:

These early humans were sympathizers to the non-humans, and in solidarity joined them in their self-imposed exile.

These early humans were those who sacrificed their own freedom to forever trap the non-humans in Mugenri.

These early humans were not interested in the race conflict, but was simply hoping to start anew or escape the outside world.

Personally, I would imagine that all these cases could be found, though I'd like to focus on the 2nd option. Because this, I believe, is the origin of the Senri Shrine.

We know that the 1st Senri priest was among those who created the Mugenri Barrier, and considering their successor, Tsurubami Senri's, stance towards youkai, it's not hard to see how I came to this conclusion.

Additionally, this also answers the question of whether the non-humans willingly shut themselves in Mugenri or were trapped in there by the humans.

This idea is somewhat supported by this from the 2021 Interview with JynX:

Mugenri — Question 86 Q: Can you think of Mugenri as a trap or prison, maybe a birdcage? Why else would it be so easy to get in but extremely difficult to get out? A: Something like that. The details are secret~.

Unhelpful JynX aside (lol), they did agree, to some extent, that Mugenri is a trap or a prison, further strengthening the idea that the non-humans aren't exactly willing participants.

The Human/Non-human Conflict

Finally, let's take a quick look at what could've caused this conflict between the two sides in the first place. I have a few theories, so let's go into that here.

First off, there's always the good old human fear of the unknown and the different, the easiest and most typical explanation for these situations and plots.

Perhaps the humans gradually grew more and more intolerant of the non-humans, and eventually took to taking up arms against them, leading to this conflict.

Of course, it's frankly hard to believe that these primeval humans would've been able to fight against the myriad of youkai and other non-humans all by themselves.

Here I suggest that the humans weren't alone, but were instead supported by a certain subset of gods. To see where this idea comes from, let's revisit A World That Isn't Fantasy, this time looking at Alice Leaping Atop Lily Pad Ice.

Hoojiro "Have you ever heard of it? The story of the imperial family and the Earthly Gods buried by history's darkness."

This is, at first glance, seemingly just a throwaway line. Hoojiro brings it up out of nowhere, and Haru quickly brushes her aside.

But even ignoring why Hoojiro brought it up, from an out-of-universe perspective, this line is far too loaded to be nothing, especially from a writer like JynX.

From an in-universe perspective, Hoojiro then follows this up with the talk on the Land of Non-humans in the next section, To Mugenri. This, to me at least, seems to hint that these two must be related somehow.

After all, Tsubakura was looking into the Land of Non-humans, and Hoojiro would've certainly had a good idea of everything they looked into and found.

So! Let's try to figure out what this is about.

First off, I'll tell you right now that this is referring to the mythologised telling of how the Yamato dynasty of Japan came to rule over these islands.

See the imperial family of Japan, according to their mythology, is descendant from Amaterasu Ōmikami, a sun goddess. She is what is considered a "heavenly god" (天津神 amatsukami), gods belonging to or originating from the heavenly realm of Takamagahara.

The counterpart to these heavenly gods are thus the "earthly gods" (国津神 kunitsukami), the native gods of the earth. They were the original rulers of the land (Japan), and it was through both diplomacy and force that the heavenly gods got the earthly gods to relinquish control of the earth to them.

This, I am certain, is the "story of the imperial family and the Earthly Gods", Hoojiro refers to. And I have a feeling that this is what caused the relationship between the humans and non-humans to sour.

Basing it on the myths, it would appear that the heavenly gods chose, for whatever reason, to side with the humans in the conflict, allowing them claim the world as their own.

Having identified the heavenly gods with the humans, this would leave the earthly gods with the non-humans, neither of whom fared very well in this exchange, and were forced to submit before the heavenly gods and their humans.

Thus the losers of this conflict, the earthly gods and non-humans, were "exiled" from the known world, put into an almost mirror-dimension-like plane of existence, their only way back out into the greater world through the outside, the Land of the Humans.

Note — Too Harsh on the Humans? History is written by the victors, or in this case, the imprisoned losers. All the sources we have so far are fairly Ruri Mugenri-centric, even those from outside. There is every chance that the humans were somewhat justified in their attack on the non-humans at first, perhaps the non-humans first took over and oppressed them, much like how the earthly gods were the original rulers of Japan. If this were true, that it'd be rather easy to see why the heavenly gods sided with the humans, perhaps out of pity, or a desire to use them to eliminate a common enemy.

Ending

Phew! That was a lot, wasn't it?

But this indeed concludes my thoughts on what the hypothetical ancient history of the land of Mugenri might be like, from it's initial inception to the establishment of Ruri Mugenri.

Like I mentioned at the beginning, a lot more guesswork and speculation this time, so its canonicity is very doubtful. Still, I think it's at least plausible.

As usual, I hope you enjoyed it~! :)

[innuendostudios]

Thoughts on: Criterion's Neo-Noir Collection

I have written up all 26 films* in the Criterion Channel's Neo-Noir Collection.

Legend: rw - rewatch; a movie I had seen before going through the collection dnrw - did not rewatch; if a movie met two criteria (a. I had seen it within the last 18 months, b. I actively dislike it) I wrote it up from memory.

* in September, Brick leaves the Criterion Channel and is replaced in the collection with Michael Mann's Thief. May add it to the list when that happens.

Note: These are very "what was on my mind after watching." No effort has been made to avoid spoilers, nor to make the plot clear for anyone who hasn't seen the movies in question. Decide for yourself if that's interesting to you.

Cotton Comes to Harlem I feel utterly unequipped to asses this movie. This and Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song the following year are regularly cited as the progenitors of the blaxploitation genre. (This is arguably unfair, since both were made by Black men and dealt much more substantively with race than the white-directed films that followed them.) Its heroes are a couple of Black cops who are treated with suspicion both by their white colleagues and by the Black community they're meant to police. I'm not 100% clear on whether they're the good guys? I mean, I think they are. But the community's suspicion of them seems, I dunno... well-founded? They are working for The Man. And there's interesting discussion to the had there - is the the problem that the law is carried out by racists, or is the law itself racist? Can Black cops make anything better? But it feels like the film stacks the deck in Gravedigger and Coffin Ed's favor; the local Black church is run by a conman, the Back-to-Africa movement is, itself, a con, and the local Black Power movement is treated as an obstacle. Black cops really are the only force for justice here. Movie portrays Harlem itself as a warm, thriving, cultured community, but the people that make up that community are disloyal and easily fooled. Felt, to me, like the message was "just because they're cops doesn't mean they don't have Black soul," which, nowadays, we would call copaganda. But, then, do I know what I'm talking about? Do I know how much this played into or off of or against stereotypes from 1970? Was this a radical departure I don't have the context to appreciate? Is there substance I'm too white and too many decades removed to pick up on? Am I wildly overthinking this? I dunno. Seems like everyone involved was having a lot of fun, at least. That bit is contagious.

Across 110th Street And here's the other side of the "race film" equation. Another movie set in Harlem with a Black cop pulled between the police, the criminals, and the public, but this time the film is made by white people. I like it both more and less. Pro: this time the difficult position of Black cop who's treated with suspicion by both white cops and Black Harlemites is interrogated. Con: the Black cop has basically no personality other than "honest cop." Pro: the racism of the police force is explicit and systemic, as opposed to comically ineffectual. Con: the movie is shaped around a racist white cop who beats the shit out of Black people but slowly forms a bond with his Black partner. Pro: the Black criminal at the heart of the movie talks openly about how the white world has stacked the deck against him, and he's soulful and relateable. Con: so of course he dies in the end, because the only way privileged people know to sympathetize with minorities is to make them tragic (see also: The Boys in the Band, Philadelphia, and Brokeback Mountain for gay men). Additional con: this time Harlem is portrayed as a hellhole. Barely any of the community is even seen. At least the shot at the end, where the criminal realizes he's going to die and throws the bag of money off a roof and into a playground so the Black kids can pick it up before the cops reclaim it was powerful. But overall... yech. Cotton Comes to Harlem felt like it wasn't for me; this feels like it was 100% for me and I respect it less for that.

The Long Goodbye (rw) The shaggiest dog. Like much Altman, more compelling than good, but very compelling. Raymond Chandler's story is now set in the 1970's, but Philip Marlowe is the same Philip Marlowe of the 1930's. I get the sense there was always something inherently sad about Marlowe. Classic noir always portrayed its detectives as strong-willed men living on the border between the straightlaced world and its seedy underbelly, crossing back and forth freely but belonging to neither. But Chandler stresses the loneliness of it - or, at least, the people who've adapted Chandler do. Marlowe is a decent man in an indecent world, sorting things out, refusing to profit from misery, but unable to set anything truly right. Being a man out of step is here literalized by putting him forty years from the era where he belongs. His hardboiled internal monologue is now the incessant mutterings of the weird guy across the street who never stops smoking. Like I said: compelling! Kael's observation was spot on: everyone in the movie knows more about the mystery than he does, but he's the only one who cares. The mystery is pretty threadbare - Marlowe doesn't detect so much as end up in places and have people explain things to him. But I've seen it two or three times now, and it does linger.

Chinatown (rw) I confess I've always been impressed by Chinatown more than I've liked it. Its story structure is impeccable, its atmosphere is gorgeous, its noirish fatalism is raw and real, its deconstruction of the noir hero is well-observed, and it's full of clever detective tricks (the pocket watches, the tail light, the ruler). I've just never connected with it. Maybe it's a little too perfectly crafted. (I feel similar about Miller's Crossing.) And I've always been ambivalent about the ending. In Towne's original ending, Evelyn shoots Noah Cross dead and get arrested, and neither she nor Jake can tell the truth of why she did it, so she goes to jail for murder and her daughter is in the wind. Polansky proposed the ending that exists now, where Evelyn just dies, Cross wins, and Jake walks away devastated. It communicates the same thing: Jake's attempt to get smart and play all the sides off each other instead of just helping Evelyn escape blows up in his face at the expense of the woman he cares about and any sense of real justice. And it does this more dramatically and efficiently than Towne's original ending. But it also treats Evelyn as narratively disposable, and hands the daughter over to the man who raped Evelyn and murdered her husband. It makes the women suffer more to punch up the ending. But can I honestly say that Towne's ending is the better one? It is thematically equal, dramatically inferior, but would distract me less. Not sure what the calculus comes out to there. Maybe there should be a third option. Anyway! A perfect little contraption. Belongs under a glass dome.

Night Moves (rw) Ah yeah, the good shit. This is my quintessential 70's noir. This is three movies in a row about detectives. Thing is, the classic era wasn't as chockablock with hardboiled detectives as we think; most of those movies starred criminals, cops, and boring dudes seduced to the darkness by a pair of legs. Gumshoes just left the strongest impressions. (The genre is said to begin with Maltese Falcon and end with Touch of Evil, after all.) So when the post-Code 70's decided to pick the genre back up while picking it apart, it makes sense that they went for the 'tecs first. The Long Goodbye dragged the 30's detective into the 70's, and Chinatown went back to the 30's with a 70's sensibility. But Night Moves was about detecting in the Watergate era, and how that changed the archetype. Harry Moseby is the detective so obsessed with finding the truth that he might just ruin his life looking for it, like the straight story will somehow fix everything that's broken, like it'll bring back a murdered teenager and repair his marriage and give him a reason to forgive the woman who fucked him just to distract him from some smuggling. When he's got time to kill, he takes out a little, magnetic chess set and recreates a famous old game, where three knight moves (get it?) would have led to a beautiful checkmate had the player just seen it. He keeps going, self-destructing, because he can't stand the idea that the perfect move is there if he can just find it. And, no matter how much we see it destroy him, we, the audience, want him to keep going; we expect a satisfying resolution to the mystery. That's what we need from a detective picture; one character flat-out compares Harry to Sam Spade. But what if the truth is just... Watergate? Just some prick ruining things for selfish reasons? Nothing grand, nothing satisfying. Nothing could be more noir, or more neo-, than that.

Farewell, My Lovely Sometimes the only thing that makes a noir neo- is that it's in color and all the blood, tits, and racism from the books they're based on get put back in. This second stab at Chandler is competant but not much more than that. Mitchum works as Philip Marlowe, but Chandler's dialogue feels off here, like lines that worked on the page don't work aloud, even though they did when Bogie said them. I'll chalk it up to workmanlike but uninspired direction. (Dang this looks bland so soon after Chinatown.) Moose Malloy is a great character, and perfectly cast. (Wasn't sure at first, but it's true.) Some other interesting cats show up and vanish - the tough brothel madam based on Brenda Allen comes to mind, though she's treated with oddly more disdain than most of the other hoods and is dispatched quicker. In general, the more overt racism and misogyny doesn't seem to do anything except make the movie "edgier" than earlier attempts at the same material, and it reads kinda try-hard. But it mostly holds together. *shrug*

The Killing of a Chinese Bookie (dnrw) Didn't care for this at all. Can't tell if the script was treated as a jumping-off point or if the dialogue is 100% improvised, but it just drags on forever and is never that interesting. Keeps treating us to scenes from the strip club like they're the opera scenes in Amadeus, and, whatever, I don't expect burlesque to be Mozart, but Cosmo keeps saying they're an artful, classy joint, and I keep waiting for the show to be more than cheap, lazy camp. How do you make gratuitious nudity boring? Mind you, none of this is bad as a rule - I love digressions and can enjoy good sleaze, and it's clear the filmmakers care about what they're making. They just did not sell it in a way I wanted to buy. Can't remember what edit I watched; I hope it was the 135 minute one, because I cannot imagine there being a longer edit out there.

The American Friend (dnrw) It's weird that this is Patricia Highsmith, right? That Dennis Hopper is playing Tom Ripley? In a cowboy hat? I gather that Minghella's version wasn't true to the source, but I do love that movie, and this is a long, long way from that. This Mr. Ripley isn't even particularly talented! Anyway, this has one really great sequence, where a regular guy has been coerced by crooks into murdering someone on a train platform, and, when the moment comes to shoot, he doesn't. And what follows is a prolonged sequence of an amateur trying to surreptitiously tail a guy across a train station and onto another train, and all the while you're not sure... is he going to do it? is he going to chicken out? is he going to do it so badly he gets caught? It's hard not to put yourself in the protagonist's shoes, wondering how you would handle the situation, whether you could do it, whether you could act on impulse before your conscience could catch up with you. It drags on a long while and this time it's a good thing. Didn't much like the rest of the movie, it's shapeless and often kind of corny, and the central plot hook is contrived. (It's also very weird that this is the only Wim Wenders I've seen.) But, hey, I got one excellent sequence, not gonna complain.

The Big Sleep Unlike the 1946 film, I can follow the plot of this Big Sleep. But, also unlike the 1946 version, this one isn't any damn fun. Mitchum is back as Marlowe (this is three Marlowes in five years, btw), and this time it's set in the 70's and in England, for some reason. I don't find this offensive, but neither do I see what it accomplishes? Most of the cast is still American. (Hi Jimmy!) Still holds together, but even less well than Farewell, My Lovely. But I do find it interesting that the neo-noir era keeps returning to Chandler while it's pretty much left Hammet behind (inasmuch as someone whose genes are spread wide through the whole genre can be left behind). Spade and the Continental Op, straightshooting tough guys who come out on top in the end, seem antiquated in the (post-)modern era. But Marlowe's goodness being out of sync with the world around him only seems more poignant the further you take him from his own time. Nowadays you can really only do Hammett as pastiche, but I sense that you could still play Chandler straight.

Eyes of Laura Mars The most De Palma movie I've seen not made by De Palma, complete with POV shots, paranormal hoodoo, and fixation with sex, death, and whether images of such are art or exploitation (or both). Laura Mars takes photographs of naked women in violent tableux, and has gotten quite famous doing so, but is it damaging to women? The movie has more than a superficial engagement with this topic, but only slightly more than superficial. Kept imagining a movie that is about 30% less serial killer story and 30% more art conversations. (But, then, I have an art degree and have never murdered anyone, so.) Like, museums are full of Biblical paintings full of nude women and slaughter, sometimes both at once, and they're called masterpieces. Most all of them were painted by men on commission from other men. Now Laura Mars makes similar images in modern trappings, and has models made of flesh and blood rather than paint, and it's scandalous? Why is it only controversial once women are getting paid for it? On the other hand, is this just the master's tools? Is she subverting or challenging the male gaze, or just profiting off of it? Or is a woman profiting off of it, itself, a subversion? Is it subversive enough to account for how it commodifies female bodies? These questions are pretty clearly relevant to the movie itself, and the movies in general, especially after the fall of the Hays Code when people were really unrestrained with the blood and boobies. And, heck, the lead is played by the star of Bonnie and Clyde! All this is to say: I wish the movie were as interested in these questions as I am. What's there is a mildly diverting B-picture. There's one great bit where Laura's seeing through the killer's eyes (that's the hook, she gets visions from the murderer's POV; no, this is never explained) and he's RIGHT BEHIND HER, so there's a chase where she charges across an empty room only able to see her own fleeing self from ten feet behind. That was pretty great! And her first kiss with the detective (because you could see a mile away that the detective and the woman he's supposed to protect are gonna fall in love) is immediately followed by the two freaking out about how nonsensical it is for them to fall in love with each other, because she's literally mourning multiple deaths and he's being wildly unprofessional, and then they go back to making out. That bit was great, too. The rest... enh.

The Onion Field What starts off as a seemingly not-that-noirish cops-vs-crooks procedural turns into an agonizingly protracted look at the legal system, with the ultimate argument that the very idea of the law ever resulting in justice is a lie. Hoo! I have to say, I'm impressed. There's a scene where a lawyer - whom I'm not sure is even named, he's like the seventh of thirteen we've met - literally quits the law over how long this court case about two guys shooting a cop has taken. He says the cop who was murdered has been forgotten, his partner has never gotten to move on because the case has lasted eight years, nothing has been accomplished, and they should let the two criminals walk and jail all the judges and lawyers instead. It's awesome! The script is loaded with digressions and unnecessary details, just the way I like it. Can't say I'm impressed with the execution. Nothing is wrong, exactly, but the performances all seem a tad melodramatic or a tad uninspired. Camerawork is, again, purely functional. It's no masterpiece. But that second half worked for me. (And it's Ted Danson's first movie! He did great.)

Body Heat (rw) Let's say up front that this is a handsomely-made movie. Probably the best looking thing on the list since Night Moves. Nothing I've seen better captures the swelter of an East Coast heatwave, or the lusty feeling of being too hot to bang and going at it regardless. Kathleen Turner sells the hell out of a femme fatale. There are a lot of good lines and good performances (Ted Danson is back and having the time of his life). I want to get all that out of the way, because this is a movie heavily modeled after Double Indemnity, and I wanted to discuss its merits before I get into why inviting that comparison doesn't help the movie out. In a lot of ways, it's the same rules as the Robert Mitchum Marlowe movies - do Double Indemnity but amp up the sex and violence. And, to a degree it works. (At least, the sex does, dunno that Double Indemnity was crying out for explosions.) But the plot is amped as well, and gets downright silly. Yeah, Mrs. Dietrichson seduces Walter Neff so he'll off her husband, but Neff clocks that pretty early and goes along with it anyway. Everything beyond that is two people keeping too big a secret and slowly turning on each other. But here? For the twists to work Matty has to be, from frame one, playing four-dimensional chess on the order of Senator Palpatine, and its about as plausible. (Exactly how did she know, after she rebuffed Ned, he would figure out her local bar and go looking for her at the exact hour she was there?) It's already kind of weird to be using the spider woman trope in 1981, but to make her MORE sexually conniving and mercenary than she was in the 40's is... not great. As lurid trash, it's pretty fun for a while, but some noir stuff can't just be updated, it needs to be subverted or it doesn't justify its existence.

Blow Out Brian De Palma has two categories of movie: he's got his mainstream, director-for-hire fare, where his voice is either reigned in or indulged in isolated sequences that don't always jive with the rest fo the film, and then there's his Brian De Palma movies. My mistake, it seems, is having seen several for-hires from throughout his career - The Untouchables (fine enough), Carlito's Way (ditto, but less), Mission: Impossible (enh) - but had only seen De Palma-ass movies from his late period (Femme Fatale and The Black Dahlia, both of which I think are garbage). All this to say: Blow Out was my first classic-era De Palma, and holy fucking shit dudes. This was (with caveats) my absolute and entire jam. I said I could enjoy good sleaze, and this is good friggin' sleaze. (Though far short of De Palma at his sleaziest, mercifully.) The splitscreens, the diopter shots, the canted angles, how does he make so many shlocky things work?! John Travolta's sound tech goes out to get fresh wind fx for the movie he's working on, and we get this wonderful sequence of visuals following sounds as he turns his attention and his microphone to various noises - a couple on a walk, a frog, an owl, a buzzing street lamp. Later, as he listens back to the footage, the same sequence plays again, but this time from his POV; we're seeing his memory as guided by the same sequence of sounds, now recreated with different shots, as he moves his pencil in the air mimicking the microphone. When he mixes and edits sounds, we hear the literal soundtrack of the movie we are watching get mixed and edited by the person on screen. And as he tries to unravel a murder mystery, he uses what's at hand: magnetic tape, flatbed editors, an animation camera to turn still photos from the crime scene into a film and sync it with the audio he recorded; it's forensics using only the tools of the editing room. As someone who's spent some time in college editing rooms, this is a hoot and a half. Loses a bit of steam as it goes on and the film nerd stuff gives way to a more traditional thriller, but rallies for a sound-tech-centered final setpiece, which steadily builds to such madcap heights you can feel the air thinning, before oddly cutting its own tension and then trying to build it back up again. It doesn't work as well the second time. But then, that shot right after the climax? Damn. Conflicted on how the movie treats the female lead. I get why feminist film theorists are so divided on De Palma. His stuff is full of things feminists (rightly) criticize, full of women getting naked when they're not getting stabbed, but he also clearly finds women fascinating and has them do empowered and unexpected things, and there are many feminist reads of his movies. Call it a mixed bag. But even when he's doing tropey shit, he explores the tropes in unexpected ways. Definitely the best movie so far that I hadn't already seen.

Cutter's Way (rw) Alex Cutter is pitched to us as an obnoxious-but-sympathetic son of a bitch, and, you know, two out of three ain't bad. Watched this during my 2020 neo-noir kick and considered skipping it this time because I really didn't enjoy it. Found it a little more compelling this go around, while being reminded of why my feelings were room temp before. Thematically, I'm onboard: it's about a guy, Cutter, getting it in his head that he's found a murderer and needs to bring him to justice, and his friend, Bone, who intermittently helps him because he feels bad that Cutter lost his arm, leg, and eye in Nam and he also feels guilty for being in love with Cutter's wife. The question of whether the guy they're trying to bring down actually did it is intentionally undefined, and arguably unimportant; they've got personal reasons to see this through. Postmodern and noirish, fixated with the inability to ever fully know the truth of anything, but starring people so broken by society that they're desperate for certainty. (Pretty obvious parallels to Vietnam.) Cutter's a drunk and kind of an asshole, but understandably so. Bone's shiftlessness is the other response to a lack of meaning in the world, to the point where making a decision, any decision, feels like character growth, even if it's maybe killing a guy whose guilt is entirely theoretical. So, yeah, I'm down with all of this! A- in outline form. It's just that Cutter is so uninterestingly unpleasant and no one else on screen is compelling enough to make up for it. His drunken windups are tedious and his sanctimonious speeches about what the war was like are, well, true and accurate but also obviously manipulative. It's two hours with two miserable people, and I think Cutter's constant chatter is supposed to be the comic relief but it's a little too accurate to drunken rambling, which isn't funny if you're not also drunk. He's just tedious, irritating, and periodically racist. Pass.

Blood Simple (rw) I'm pretty cool on the Coens - there are things I've liked, even loved, in every Coen film I've seen, but I always come away dissatisfied. For a while, I kept going to their movies because I was sure eventually I'd love one without qualification. No Country for Old Men came close, the first two acts being master classes in sustained tension. But then the third act is all about denying closure: the protagonist is murdered offscreen, the villain's motives are never explained, and it ends with an existentialist speech about the unfathomable cruelty of the world. And it just doesn't land for me. The archness of the Coen's dialogue, the fussiness of their set design, the kinda-intimate, kinda-awkward, kinda-funny closeness of the camera's singles, it cannot sell me on a devastating meditation about meaninglessness. It's only ever sold me on the Coens' own cleverness. And that archness, that distancing, has typified every one of their movies I've come close to loving. Which is a long-ass preamble to saying, holy heck, I was not prepared for their very first movie to be the one I'd been looking for! I watched it last year and it remains true on rewatch: Blood Simple works like gangbusters. It's kind of Double Indemnity (again) but played as a comedy of errors, minus the comedy: two people romantically involved feeling their trust unravel after a murder. And I think the first thing that works for me is that utter lack of comedy. It's loaded with the Coens' trademark ironies - mostly dramatic in this case - but it's all played straight. Unlike the usual lead/femme fatale relationship, where distrust brews as the movie goes on, the audience knows the two main characters can trust each other. There are no secret duplicitous motives waiting to be revealed. The audience also know why they don't trust each other. (And it's all communicated wordlessly, btw: a character enters a scene and we know, based on the information that character has, how it looks to them and what suspicions it would arouse, even as we know the truth of it). The second thing that works is, weirdly, that the characters aren't very interesting?! Ray and Abby have almost no characterization. Outside of a general likability, they are blank slates. This is a weakness in most films, but, given the agonizingly long, wordless sequences where they dispose of bodies or hide from gunfire, you're left thinking not "what will Ray/Abby do in this scenario," because Ray and Abby are relatively elemental and undefined, but "what would I do in this scenario?" Which creates an exquisite tension but also, weirdly, creates more empathy than I feel for the Coens' usual cast of personalities. It's supposed to work the other way around! Truly enjoyable throughout but absolutely wonderful in the suspenseful-as-hell climax. Good shit right here.

Body Double The thing about erotic thrillers is everything that matters is in the name. Is it thrilling? Is it erotic? Good; all else is secondary. De Palma set out to make the most lurid, voyeuristic, horny, violent, shocking, steamy movie he could come up with, and its success was not strictly dependent on the lead's acting ability or the verisimilitude of the plot. But what are we, the modern audience, to make of it once 37 years have passed and, by today's standards, the eroticism is quite tame and the twists are no longer shocking? Then we're left with a nonsensical riff on Vertigo, a specularization of women that is very hard to justify, and lead actor made of pulped wood. De Palma's obsessions don't cohere into anything more this time; the bits stolen from Hitchcock aren't repurposed to new ends, it really is just Hitch with more tits and less brains. (I mean, I still haven't seen Vertigo, but I feel 100% confident in that statement.) The diopter shots and rear-projections this time look cheap (literally so, apparently; this had 1/3 the budget of Blow Out). There are some mildly interesting setpieces, but nothing compared to Travolta's auditory reconstructions or car chase where he tries to tail a subway train from street level even if it means driving through a frickin parade like an inverted French Connection, goddamn Blow Out was a good movie! Anyway. Melanie Griffith seems to be having fun, at least. I guess I had a little as well, but it was, at best, diverting, and a real letdown.

The Hit Surprised by how much I enjoyed this one. Terrance Stamp flips on the mob and spends ten years living a life of ease in Spain, waiting for the day they find and kill him. Movie kicks off when they do find him, and what follows is a ramshackle road movie as John Hurt and a young Tim Roth attempt to drive him to Paris so they can shoot him in front of his old boss. Stamp is magnetic. He's spent a decade reading philosophy and seems utterly prepared for death, so he spends the trip humming, philosophizing, and being friendly with his captors when he's not winding them up. It remains unclear to the end whether the discord he sews between Roth and Hurt is part of some larger plan of escape or just for shits and giggles. There's also a decent amount of plot for a movie that's not terribly plot-driven - just about every part of the kidnapping has tiny hitches the kidnappers aren't prepared for, and each has film-long repercussions, drawing the cops closer and somehow sticking Laura del Sol in their backseat. The ongoing questions are when Stamp will die, whether del Sol will die, and whether Roth will be able to pull the trigger. In the end, it's actually a meditation on ethics and mortality, but in a quiet and often funny way. It's not going to go down as one of my new favs, but it was a nice way to spend a couple hours.

Trouble in Mind (dnrw) I fucking hated this movie. It's been many months since I watched it, do I remember what I hated most? Was it the bit where a couple of country bumpkins who've come to the city walk into a diner and Mr. Bumpkin clocks that the one Black guy in the back as obviously a criminal despite never having seen him before? Was it the part where Kris Kristofferson won't stop hounding Mrs. Bumpkin no matter how many times she demands to be left alone, and it's played as romantic because obviously he knows what she needs better than she does? Or is it the part where Mr. Bumpkin reluctantly takes a job from the Obvious Criminal (who is, in fact, a criminal, and the only named Black character in the movie if I remember correctly, draw your own conclusions) and, within a week, has become a full-blown hood, which is exemplified by a lot, like, a lot of queer-coding? The answer to all three questions is yes. It's also fucking boring. Even out-of-drag Divine's performance as the villain can't save it.

Manhunter 'sfine? I've still never seen Silence of the Lambs, nor any of the Hopkins Lecter movies, nor, indeed, any full episode of the show. So the unheimlich others get seeing Brian Cox play Hannibal didn't come into play. Cox does a good job with him, but he's barely there. Shame, cuz he's the most interesting part of the movie. Honestly, there's a lot of interesting stuff that's barely there. Will Graham being a guy who gets into the heads of serial killers is explored well enough, and Mann knows how to direct a police procedural such that it's both contemplative and propulsive. But all the other themes it points at? Will's fear that he understands murderers a little too well? Hannibal trying to nudge him towards becoming one? Whatever dance Hannibal and Tooth Fairy are doing? What Tooth Fairy's deal is, anyway? (Why does he wear fake teeth and bite things? Why is he fixated on the red dragon? Does the bit where he says "Francis is gone forever" mean he has DID?) None of it goes anywhere or amounts to anything. I mean, it's certainly more interesting with this stuff than without, but it has that feel of a book that's been pared of its interesting bits to fit the runtime (or, alternately, pulp that's been sloppily elevated). I still haven't made my mind up on Mann's cold, precise camera work, but at least it gives me something to look at. It's fine! This is fine.

Mona Lisa (rw) Gave this one another shot. Bob Hoskins is wonderful as a hood out of his depth in classy places, quick to anger but just as quick to let anger go (the opening sequence where he's screaming on his ex-wife's doorstep, hurling trash cans at her house, and one minute later thrilled to see his old car, is pretty nice). And Cathy Tyson's working girl is a subtler kind of fascinating, exuding a mixture of coldness and kindness. It's just... this is ultimately a story about how heartbreaking it is when the girl you like is gay, right? It's Weezer's Pink Triangle: The Movie. It's not homophobic, exactly - Simone isn't demonized for being a lesbian - but it's still, like, "man, this straight white guy's pain is so much more interesting than the Black queer sex worker's." And when he's yelling "you woulda done it!" at the end, I can't tell if we're supposed to agree with him. Seems pretty clear that she wouldn'ta done it, at least not without there being some reveal about her character that doesn't happen, but I don't think the ending works if we don't agree with him, so... I'm like 70% sure the movie does Simone dirty there. For the first half, their growing relationship feels genuine and natural, and, honestly, the story being about a real bond that unfortunately means different things to each party could work if it didn't end with a gun and a sock in the jaw. Shape feels jagged as well; what feels like the end of the second act or so turns out to be the climax. And some of the symbolism is... well, ok, Simone gives George money to buy more appropriate clothes for hanging out in high end hotels, and he gets a tan leather jacket and a Hawaiian shirt, and their first proper bonding moment is when she takes him out for actual clothes. For the rest of the movie he is rocking double-breasted suits (not sure I agree with the striped tie, but it was the eighties, whaddya gonna do?). Then, in the second half, she sends him off looking for her old streetwalker friend, and now he looks completely out of place in the strip clubs and bordellos. So far so good. But then they have this run-in where her old pimp pulls a knife and cuts George's arm, so, with his nice shirt torn and it not safe going home (I guess?) he starts wearing the Hawaiian shirt again. So around the time he's starting to realize he doesn't really belong in Simone's world or the lowlife world he came from anymore, he's running around with the classy double-breasted suit jacket over the garish Hawaiian shirt, and, yeah, bit on the nose guys. Anyway, it has good bits, I just feel like a movie that asks me to feel for the guy punching a gay, Black woman in the face needs to work harder to earn it. Bit of wasted talent.

The Bedroom Window Starts well. Man starts an affair with his boss' wife, their first night together she witnesses an attempted murder from his window, she worries going to the police will reveal the affair to her husband, so the man reports her testimony to the cops claiming he's the one who saw it. Young Isabelle Huppert is the perfect woman for a guy to risk his career on a crush over, and Young Steve Guttenberg is the perfect balance of affability and amorality. And it flows great - picks just the right media to res. So then he's talking to the cops, telling them what she told him, and they ask questions he forgot to ask her - was the perp's jacket a blazer or a windbreaker? - and he has to guess. Then he gets called into the police lineup, and one guy matches her description really well, but is it just because he's wearing his red hair the way she described it? He can't be sure, doesn't finger any of them. He finds out the cops were pretty certain about one of the guys, so he follows the one he thinks it was around, looking for more evidence, and another girl is attacked right outside a bar he knows the redhead was at. Now he's certain! But he shows the boss' wife the guy and she's not certain, and she reminds him they don't even know if the guy he followed is the same guy the police suspected! And as he feeds more evidence to the cops, he has to lie more, because he can't exactly say he was tailing the guy around the city. So, I'm all in now. Maybe it's because I'd so recently rewatched Night Moves and Cutter's Way, but this seems like another story about uncertainty. He's really certain about the guy because it fits narratively, and we, the audience, feel the same. But he's not actually a witness, he doesn't have actual evidence, he's fitting bits and pieces together like a conspiracy theorist. He's fixating on what he wants to be true. Sign me up! But then it turns out he's 100% correct about who the killer is but his lies are found out and now the cops think he's the killer and I realize, oh, no, this movie isn't nearly as smart as I thought it was. Egg on my face! What transpires for the remaining half of the runtime is goofy as hell, and someone with shlockier sensibilities could have made a meal of it, but Hanson, despite being a Corman protege, takes this silliness seriously in the all wrong ways. Next!

Homicide (rw? I think I saw most of this on TV one time) Homicide centers around the conflicted loyalties of a Jewish cop. It opens with the Jewish cop and his white gentile partner taking over a case with a Black perp from some Black FBI agents. The media is making a big thing about the racial implications of the mostly white cops chasing down a Black man in a Black neighborhood. And inside of 15 minutes the FBI agent is calling the lead a k*ke and the gentile cop is calling the FBI agent a f****t and there's all kinds of invective for Black people. The film is announcing its intentions out the gate: this movie is about race. But the issue here is David Mamet doesn't care about race as anything other than a dramatic device. He's the Ubisoft of filmmakers, having no coherent perspective on social issues but expecting accolades for even bringing them up. Mamet is Jewish (though lead actor Joe Mantegna definitely is not) but what is his position on the Jewish diaspora? The whole deal is Mantegna gets stuck with a petty homicide case instead of the big one they just pinched from the Feds, where a Jewish candy shop owner gets shot in what looks like a stickup. Her family tries to appeal to his Jewishness to get him to take the case seriously, and, after giving them the brush-off for a long time, finally starts following through out of guilt, finding bits and pieces of what may or may not be a conspiracy, with Zionist gun runners and underground neo-Nazis. But, again: all of these are just dramatic devices. Mantegna's Jewishness (those words will never not sound ridiculous together) has always been a liability for him as a cop (we are told, not shown), and taking the case seriously is a reclamation of identity. The Jews he finds community with sold tommyguns to revolutionaries during the founding of Israel. These Jews end up blackmailing him to get a document from the evidence room. So: what is the film's position on placing stock in one's Jewish identity? What is its position on Israel? What is its opinion on Palestine? Because all three come up! And the answer is: Mamet doesn't care. You can read it a lot of different ways. Someone with more context and more patience than me could probably deduce what the de facto message is, the way Chris Franklin deduced the de facto message of Far Cry V despite the game's efforts not to have one, but I'm not going to. Mantegna's attempt to reconnect with his Jewishness gets his partner killed, gets the guy he was supposed to bring in alive shot dead, gets him possibly permanent injuries, gets him on camera blowing up a store that's a front for white nationalists, and all for nothing because the "clues" he found (pretty much exclusively by coincidence) were unconnected nothings. The problem is either his Jewishness, or his lifelong failure to connect with his Jewishness until late in life. Mamet doesn't give a shit. (Like, Mamet canonically doesn't give a shit: he is on record saying social context is meaningless, characters only exist to serve the plot, and there are no deeper meanings in fiction.) Mamet's ping-pong dialogue is fun, as always, and there are some neat ideas and characters, but it's all in service of a big nothing that needed to be a something to work.

Swoon So much I could talk about, let's keep it to the most interesting bits. Hommes Fatales: a thing about classic noir that it was fascinated by the marginal but had to keep it in the margins. Liberated women, queer-coded killers, Black jazz players, broke thieves; they were the main event, they were what audiences wanted to see, they were what made the movies fun. But the ending always had to reassert straightlaced straight, white, middle-class male society as unshakeable. White supremacist capitalist patriarchy demanded, both ideologically and via the Hays Code, that anyone outside these norms be punished, reformed, or dead by the movie's end. The only way to make them the heroes was to play their deaths for tragedy. It is unsurprising that neo-noir would take the queer-coded villains and make them the protagonists. Implicature: This is the story of Leopold and Loeb, murderers famous for being queer, and what's interesting is how the queerness in the first half exists entirely outside of language. Like, it's kind of amazing for a movie from 1992 to be this gay - we watch Nathan and Dickie kiss, undress, masturbate, fuck; hell, they wear wedding rings when they're alone together. But it's never verbalized. Sex is referred to as "your reward" or "what you wanted" or "best time." Dickie says he's going to have "the girls over," and it turns out "the girls" are a bunch of drag queens, but this is never acknowledged. Nathan at one point lists off a bunch of famous men - Oscar Wild, E.M. Forster, Frederick the Great - but, though the commonality between them is obvious (they were all gay), it's left the the audience to recognize it. When their queerness is finally verbalized in the second half, it's first in the language of pathology - a psychiatrist describing their "perversions" and "misuse" of their "organs" before the court, which has to be cleared of women because it's so inappropriate - and then with slurs from the man who murders Dickie in jail (a murder which is written off with no investigation because the victim is a gay prisoner instead of a L&L's victim, a child of a wealthy family). I don't know if I'd have noticed this if I hadn't read Chip Delany describing his experience as a gay man in the 50's existing almost entirely outside of language, the only language at the time being that of heteronormativity. Murder as Love Story: L&L exchange sex as payment for the other commiting crimes; it's foreplay. Their statements to the police where they disagree over who's to blame is a lover's quarrel. Their sentencing is a marriage. Nathan performs his own funeral rites over Dickie's body after he dies on the operating table. They are, in their way, together til death did they part. This is the relationship they can have. That it does all this without romanticizing the murder itself or valorizing L&L as humans is frankly incredible.

Suture (rw) The pitch: at the funeral for his father, wealthy Vincent Towers meets his long lost half brother Clay Arlington. It is implied Clay is a child from out of wedlock, possibly an affair; no one knows Vincent has a half-brother but him and Clay. Vincent invites Clay out to his fancy-ass home in Arizona. Thing is, Vincent is suspected (correctly) by the police of having murdered his father, and, due to a striking family resemblence, he's brought Clay to his home to fake his own death. He finagles Clay into wearing his clothes and driving his car, and then blows the car up and flees the state, leaving the cops to think him dead. Thing is, Clay survives, but with amnesia. The doctors tell him he's Vincent, and he has no reason to disagree. Any discrepancy in the way he looks is dismissed as the result of reconstructive surgery after the explosion. So Clay Arlington resumes Vincent Towers' life, without knowing Clay Arlington even exists. The twist: Clay and Vincent are both white, but Vincent is played by Michael Harris, a white actor, and Clay is played by Dennis Haysbert, a Black actor. "Ian, if there's just the two of them, how do you know it's not Harris playing a Black character?" Glad you asked! It is most explicitly obvious during a scene where Vincent/Clay's surgeon-cum-girlfriend essentially bringing up phrenology to explain how Vincent/Clay couldn't possibly have murdered his father, describing straight hair, thin lips, and a Greco-Roman nose Haysbert very clearly doesn't have. But, let's be honest: we knew well beforehand that the rich-as-fuck asshole living in a huge, modern house and living it up in Arizona high society was white. Though Clay is, canonically, white, he lives an poor and underprivileged life common to Black men in America. Though the film's title officially refers to the many stitches holding Vincent/Clay's face together after the accident, "suture" is a film theory term, referring to the way a film audience gets wrapped up - sutured - in the world of the movie, choosing to forget the outside world and pretend the story is real. The usage is ironic, because the audience cannot be sutured in; we cannot, and are not expected to, suspend our disbelief that Clay is white. We are deliberately distanced. Consequently this is a movie to be thought about, not to to be felt. It has the shape of a Hitchcockian thriller but it can't evoke the emotions of one. You can see the scaffolding - "ah, yes, this is the part of a thriller where one man hides while another stalks him with a gun, clever." I feel ill-suited to comment on what the filmmakers are saying about race. I could venture a guess about the ending, where the psychiatrist, the only one who knows the truth about Clay, says he can never truly be happy living the lie of being Vincent Towers, while we see photographs of Clay/Vincent seemingly living an extremely happy life: society says white men simply belong at the top more than Black men do, but, if the roles could be reversed, the latter would slot in seamlessly. Maybe??? Of all the movies in this collection, this is the one I'd most want to read an essay on (followed by Swoon).

The Last Seduction (dnrw) No, no, no, I am not rewataching this piece of shit movie.

Brick (rw) Here's my weird contention: Brick is in color and in widescreen, but, besides that? There's nothing neo- about this noir. There's no swearing except "hell." (I always thought Tug said "goddamn" at one point but, no, he's calling The Pin "gothed-up.") There's a lot of discussion of sex, but always through implication, and the only deleted scene is the one that removed ambiguity about what Brendan and Laura get up to after kissing. There's nothing postmodern or subversive - yes, the hook is it's set in high school, but the big twist is that it takes this very seriously. It mines it for jokes, yes, but the drama is authentic. In fact, making the gumshoe a high school student, his jadedness an obvious front, still too young to be as hard as he tries to be, just makes the drama hit harder. Sam Spade if Sam Spade were allowed to cry. I've always found it an interesting counterpoint to The Good German, a movie that fastidiously mimics the aesthetics of classic noir - down to even using period-appropriate sound recording - but is wholly neo- in construction. Brick could get approved by the Hays Code. Its vibe, its plot about a detective playing a bunch of criminals against each other, even its slang ("bulls," "yegg," "flopped") are all taken directly from Hammett. It's not even stealing from noir, it's stealing from what noir stole from! It's a perfect curtain call for the collection: the final film is both the most contemporary and the most classic. It's also - but for the strong case you could make for Night Moves - the best movie on the list. It's even more appropriate for me, personally: this was where it all started for me and noir. I saw this in theaters when it came out and loved it. It was probably my favorite movie for some time. It gave me a taste for pulpy crime movies which I only, years later, realized were neo-noir. This is why I looked into Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang and In Bruges. I've seen it more times than any film on this list, by a factor of at least 3. It's why I will always adore Rian Johnson and Joseph Gordon-Levitt. It's the best-looking half-million-dollar movie I've ever seen. (Indie filmmakers, take fucking notes.) I even did a script analysis of this, and, yes, it follows the formula, but so tightly and with so much style. Did you notice that he says several of the sequence tensions out loud? ("I just want to find her." "Show of hands.") I notice new things each time I see it - this time it was how "brushing Brendan's hair out of his face" is Em's move, making him look more like he does in the flashback, and how Laura does the same to him as she's seducing him, in the moment when he misses Em the hardest. It isn't perfect. It's recreated noir so faithfully that the Innocent Girl dies, the Femme Fatale uses intimacy as a weapon, and none of the women ever appear in a scene together. 1940's gender politics maybe don't need to be revisited. They say be critical of the media you love, and it applies here most of all: it is a real criticism of something I love immensely.

[weekendwarriorblog]

The Weekend Warrior July 16, 2021 - SPACE JAM: A NEW LEGACY, ESCAPE ROOM: TOURNAMENT OF CHAMPIONS, PIG, ROADRUNNER, GUNPOWDER MILKSHAKE, and More!

We’re starting to get into the thick of summer where we’re likely to get two or maybe even three wide releases a week, and that’s definitely the case this weekend, even if it’s likely that Marvel’s Black Widow will continue to run rampant and should stay at #1 for a second weekend in a row. I also was busier than usual due to the Emmy nominations yesterday, but I now hopefully have a few easier months until the actual Emmys. (Famous last words.)

We actually have two sequels this week, one a sequel to a movie from a few years back and the other a sequel (of sorts) to a movie from 1996, so yeah, released a few months away from the 25th Anniversary of its predecessor. That always goes well.

We’ll start with SPACE JAM: A NEW LEGACY (Warner Bros.), the long-awaited sequel/reboot of the 1996 movie that captured Michael Jordan at the height of his popularity and paired him with the Looney Tunes i.e. Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Elmer Fudd, etc. For years, Warner Bros. and various parties have been trying to make a sequel, but it took basketball superstar, Lebron James and no less than Ryan (Black Panther) Coogler, to finally get the sequel made.

Directed by Malcolm D. Lee (Girls Trip, Barbershop: The Next Cut), the sequel involves James and his son Dom (newcomer Cedric Joe) having issues that are taken advantage by an A.I. named Al G. Rhythm (played by Don Cheadle) who brings James and Dom to the Warner Bros. “Server-verse” for a basketball game that teams James with the Looney Tunes against his son and a group of super-powered NBA and WNBA stars i.e. The Goon Squad.

Yeah, it’s a similar concept as what led to the 1996 movie that capitalized on Jordan’s popularity and threw in other NBA greats like Charles Barkley and Patrick Ewing, plus a little Bill Murray, and then lots of Warner Bros’ popular toon characters. That original movie opened with $27.5 million in 2,650 theaters in mid-November 1996 against the second weekend of Mel Gibson’s Ransom, but it went on to gross $90.4 million domestically with the bump from the holidays (which A New Legacy doesn’t have). In some ways, the movie was a response to the success of the 1988 hybrid Who Framed Roger Rabbit, which included many of the Looney Tunes, despite it being a Disney movie.

Looney Tunes movies (and even movies based on WB properties like the Cartoon Network) haven’t done particularly well since the first movie with Looney Tunes: Back in Action opening in November 2003 with just $9.3 million and grossing just $20.5 million domestically, which isn’t good. Space Jam: A New Legacy is Warner Bros’ first attempt to bring its toons back to theaters, and the company will be watching it closely since it has already started production on Coyote vs. Acme, a CG animated film featuring the age-old nemeses.

As far as basketball movies, the comedy Uncle Drew, which also starred Lil Rel Howery oddly, that opened with a decent $15.4 million in the summer of 2018 and grossed $42.6 million domestically, but that’s without the name brand of “Space Jam” or the beloved toons that will be a bigger selling point to kids than the basketball.

Working in Space Jam’s favor is that it’s a movie both for adults who were kids when the first movie came out, as well as modern-day kids who love sports or the toons, and that should help drive business over the weekend. What is likely to hurt is that the reviews, so far, have been absolutely TERRIBLE - 35% on Rotten Tomatoes, and while that might not put off the kids, it certainly will put off their parents.

The movie is also debuting simultaneously on HBO Max, just like other Warner Bros. movies this year, although as we’ve seen with Godzilla vs. Kong and Mortal Kombat, that doesn’t necessarily hamper how a movie might do in theaters. One thing that’s changed is that Disney announced its PVOD numbers from Black Widow’s Disney+ debut over the weekend, which might change people’s tunes about feeling the need to go to theaters to see a movie like this, and that certainly might affect Space Jam’s opening weekend, but I think it will mean an opening in the mid-to-high $20 millions vs. something in the mid-$30 millions. It also doesn’t have too much family competition until Disney’s Jungle Cruise in two weeks, so it should be able to make $70 million in domestic theaters even with it being readily available on HBO Max.

Mini-Review: I’ll freely admit that I don’t have the long-term nostalgia for the original Space Jam of so many others. In fact, I only saw it for the first time a few days ago on my TV set, which may be the way many will see Space Jam: A New Legacy due to the fact that it’s on HBO Max. It’s just another casualty of my ‘90s when I wasn’t seeing many movies and also wasn’t going to see “kids’ movies.” But I do have a soft spot in my heart for the Looney Tunes, and HBO Max even did a pretty good job with its revival last year with some new shorts.

Unfortunately, this is more of a Lebron James/Warner Bros jam, to the point where you might wonder whether Lebron dictated how he wanted to be depicted to the gaggle of writers, and then Warner Bros came in and said, “Make sure to mention how great all our other properties are as well!”

The general plot involves Don Cheadle’s dumbly pun-named Al G. Rhythm -- I promise you’ll cringe everytime you hear that name -- trying to get attention by creating a showstopping basketball game between James and his son in a video game designed by the latter, and for whatever reason, it’s James who turns to Bugs Bunny to put together a team. It’s nearly 30 minutes before we finally see the Looney Tunes together, and that’s probably the best part of the movie, as Bugs goes to visit different worlds in the Warners “server-verse” to find his compatriots. I won’t spoil some of the movie worlds it visits, but these are some of the movie’s funniest scenes, although the laughs are fleeting since they’re relatively short gags. They're ruined by the movie going overboard in an attempt to throw James into some of these worlds, particularly the DC Comics superhero-verse, which seems like it might be influenced by the cartoons but never quite achieves that style of animation.

An hour into the movie, the Tune Squad is turned into 3-dimensional CG, as they face the Goon Squad team of NBA and WNBA all-stars transformed into creatures with superpowers. It's just unable to recover as the movie’s last hour focuses on that game, which is fine other than the fact that it's an awkward combination of the CG players with the audience being all sorts of background cosplayers acting as if they were found on Hollywood Boulevard or Times Square. This is the first time in a long time where I felt that the background actors ruined every scene... and then, of course, James and Cheadle are in there in a guise that seems to be a mix of human and CG.

I’ve been a fan of director Malcolm Lee for quite a long time, but Space Jam: A New Legacy is just an absolute disaster of a mess. Not that any of that matters much, because James is clearly a better ball player than he is an actor, and that fact keeps any of the movie from really gelling or offering much in terms of fun or excitement. I wanted to like the movie or find out what so many kids seemed to enjoy about the original movie 25 years ago, but sadly, that just never happened.

Rating: 5/10

The movie I’m looking forward to the most this week and will probably have seen by the time I write this is the high-concept horror sequel, ESCAPE ROOM: TOURNAMENT OF CHAMPIONS (Sony), which follows up a little over two years since the original Escape Room. This one is also directed by Adam Robitel and starring Taylor Russell and Ben Logan as survivors of an escape room created by an evil corporation doing experiments to see how people will act. The movie benefitted from putting terror into a very familiar and popular world of escape rooms, which obviously have not been quite as prominent since COVID racked the land.

The original Escape Room opened the very first weekend of January 2019, which has seen a lot of horror hits over the years, and it proved to be a wise move by Sony since it opened with $18.2 million despite the lack of any big stars. It also had better legs than most horror movies, grossing $57 million domestically and $98 million overseas. It also did quite well in DVD and Blu-ray sales, which meant that the sequel was greenlit fairly quickly.

Unlike Space Jam: A New Legacy, the Escape Room sequel is coming out a little over two years since the first movie, which is good since more young people will remember it. Another advantage it has is that it’s ONLY playing in theaters, plus it’s also getting a full 9-hour advantage by opening on Thursday afternoon, so it could make quite a bit of money before Space Jam shows up and takes over the second spot behind Marvel’s Black Widow. It’s also PG-13 so teenagers who might not have much interest in other movies out there (or they’ve already seen them) will be able to see the movie as a group without adults.

That said, I’m not quite sure the Escape Room sequel can open anywhere near the first movie only because it’s getting a summer release where it might not be getting quite the attention of other high-profile movies out there. I’d like to think it can pull in somewhere around $15 million and maybe moviegoers will surprise me since that first movie was generally popular and its sequel can’t be viewed on some streamer day and date. We’ll see if it can then translate that into a $35 to 40 million domestic total, since I’m not sure it can match the take of the original at least domestically.

My review for Escape Room: Tournament of Champions is over at Below the Line, and you'll see that I liked it quite a bit.

This Week’s Top 10 Predictions:

Since I don’t think that Space Jam: A New Legacy will make $40 million this weekend, that keeps Black Widow at the top for a second weekend in a row.

1. Black Widow (Marvel/Disney) - $35 million -57%

2. Space Jam: A New Legacy (Warner Bros.) - $27.8 million N/A

3. Escape Room: Tournament of Champions (Sony) - $15 million N/A

4. F9 (Universal) - $6 million -48%

5. The Boss Baby: Family Business (Universal/DreamWorks Animation) - $4.8 million -46%

6. The Forever Purge (Universal) - $3.8 million -47%

7. A Quiet Place Part II (Paramount) - $2.4million -28%

8. Roadrunner: A Film About Anthony Bourdain (Focus) - $2.1 million N/A

9. Cruella (Disney) - $1.9 million -20%

10. The Hitman’s Wife’s Bodyguard (Lionsgate) - .9 million -47%

This week’s “Chosen One” is Rosalynde LeBlanc and Tom Hurwitz’s documentary, CAN YOU BRING IT: BILL T. JONES AND D-MAN IN THE WATERS (Kino Lorber), which is a surprisingly good documentary that combines a classic work of contemporary dance with how it originated from out of the AIDS pandemic of the ‘80s. Bill T. Jones was running the Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Company with his love and partner Arnie Zane, when the latter died from AIDS, and the deaths that followed led Jones to create “D-Man in the Waters.” Decades later, LeBlanc is performing “D-Man” with her college dance class, and she, along with Cinematographer Tom Hurwitz, ASC, capture that experience and embellish it with interviews with Jones and the original company performers.

Honestly, I’ve always been a bit reticent about dance and movies about dance, even though I’m almost always find that I enjoy them, like, for example, Wim Wenders’ Pina and the Cunningham doc from a few years back. The same thing happened with Can You Bring It, where I went in expecting to hate it or not find it interesting, and nothing could be further from the truth. FIrst of all, the original dance performance is something to behold, because there’s just an amazing physicality involved, which is why it’s amazing to watch LeBlanc (and the Jones himself) discussing the conditions in which the piece was written, but also getting some historical context about New York City at the time and how it was left ravaged by AIDS.

Hurwitz has tons of experience with documentary but LeBlanc is a relative newbie, but the two of them working together create a fantastic portrait of Jones, his amazing choreography work, and how the world of dance has been improved by the existence of his work and younger dancers trying to recapture the spirit of the original work. As I said, this movie was a pleasant surprise by how much I enjoyed it, since it woudln’t normally be my thing, but if you have even a remote interest in NYC’s iconic contribution to dance and how it was torn apart by the ‘80s AIDS crisis, you should give this a look.

Can You Bring It opens at the Film Forum this Friday, plus it will also be available via Virtual Cinema nationwide. Also starting at the Film Forum on Friday is its first series since the pandemic, a comprehensive Humphrey Bogart hardboiled retrospective with 19 films in 35mm and DCP.

You can also read my interview with Director/DoP Tom Hurwitz over at Below the Line later today.

A movie I’ve really been looking forward to seeing is Morgan Neville’s ROADRUNNER: A FILM ABOUT ANTHONY BOURDAIN (Focus Features), which does for the famed celebrity author and chef what Neville’s previous movie, Won’t You Be My Neighbor?, did for Mister Rogers, really going in-depth into the life and career of the celebrated and opinionated foodie. Bourdain committed suicide in June 2018, leaving a lot of his friends and fans wondering why he would take his own life when he was at the height of his career. Neville’s film looks at that, but it takes some time before it gets there.

Oddly, even though I was a huge Bourdain fan and even moreso after reading his book, “Kitchen Confidential,” this isn’t my favorite movie Neville has made, and I’m still trying to figure out why. Sure, there’s tons of extra never-before-seen footage from the taping of his various world-travelling television shows. They do show us another side of Bourdain that maybe we didn’t get to see from what was eventually aired.

I guess I was disappointed that Neville didn’t try to talk to Asia Argento, or maybe he did, and she declined? (I was hoping to talk to Morgan Neville for Below the Line about this movie, but it wasn’t meant to be.) Bourdain’s friends and co-workers on the show talk about how Argento’s inclusion into Bourdain’s life disrupted the creation of his television show, particularly the Hong Kong episode Argento directed, which apparently wasn’t without its problems, even before it was yanked from CNN after Bourdain’s death. No one blames Argento for Bourdain's choice to kill himself, but it would have been nice to get her take on the man for a more complete profile.

Even so, one of my biggest issues with the movie -- and this is where I prove unequivocally that absolutely NO ONE reads this column -- has nothing to do with Neville’s filmmaking prowess or storytelling ability, but more to do with the complete inability by many that talk about his death to understand why there have been so many prominent suicides by hanging: Bourdain, Michael Hutchence of INXS, Chris Connelly of Soundgarden, and quite a few more. When you make the decision to end your life by hanging, there’s only two ways it can go: you fail miserably i.e. the rope snaps, the knots aren’t tied properly... or you die. Even if you have second thoughts while you’re standing on the chair, once you drop, you’re dead even if you merely slipped. This is why hanging has been such a popular form of execution for hundreds and hundreds of years. It’s hard to screw it up. Unfortunately, when you’ve decided you no longer want to live, and you decide to hang yourself, it’s much easier to succeed in doing so… and for better or worse, I’m not sure that Neville or any of Bourdain’s friends interviewed have ever been to that point where they tried to hang themselves to really understand that. It’s minor and probably will be a non-issue to most seeing this movie, but having been at that point of hopelessness myself (probably for far different reasons than Bourdain), that bothered me a little. That sort of context would have helped people who watch the movie understand Bourdain's last moments.

Despite those issues, Roadrunner brilliantly captures the spirit and tone of Bourdain’s character as depicted on his various television series. That's why Roadrunner is a movie that mostly worked for me as a fan of Bourdain’s amazing writing and television work.

Focus continues to give its movies semi-wide releases, and this one is going pretty wide into 800 theaters, so it might be able to peek into the top 10, maybe?

Another movie coming to theaters is Michael Sarnoski’s PIG (NEON), starring Nicholas Cage as Robin Feld, a reclusive hermit of a man who once was a legendary Portland chef. He’s now living on his own in the middle of nowhere with his truffle-foraging pig, but one night, some people break in and steal the pig, thinking that it’s their path to fortunes. Robin isn’t having any of it, and he follows his pig’s trail to a fight club and then to the father of one of his main buyers (Alex Wolff).

Even though I’ve known about this movie for some time, I didn’t really know that much about it. Like man, I expected it to be a straight-up revenge action flick a bit like John Wick, but the only thing this has in common with that is that this as terrific a showcase for Cage as an actor as that was for Keanu Reeves. Spending much of the movie completely bedraggled and beaten-up, this is still a far more subdued performance for Cage than some might be expecting, and a slower and more subdued film with only a few moments achieving anything that could be considered “action.”

Even so, this is such a great vehicle for Cage, and Alex Wolff is also quite good, plus there’s a foodie aspect to the movie that should make it a great double feature with Roadrunner. It should be expected with so much of it involving truffles, which not many people outside of chefs and gourmands know much about

Some people might go into Pig with the wrong expectations of this being some sort of genre revenge flick, but it’s in fact a pretty solid character drama, truly showing off Cage’s terrific ability at creating character, so hopefully, it will find its audience even it might not be the one some might expect.

Rating: 7.5/10

Pig will actually open in a few hundred theaters nationwide so plenty of opportunities to see it that way.

Netflix has a duo of high-profile films this week, including the action-thriller GUNPOWDER MILKSHAKE (Netflix), starring Karen Gillan and directed by Israreli filmmaker Navot Papushado (Big Bad Wolves). Gillan plays Sam, an assassin for a group called The Firm, a second generation assassin no less since her mother Scarlet (Lena Headey) was also an assassin. One day, she finds herself on the bad side of a crime lord whose son she killed (on a mission) and finds herself having to fight off dozens of killers as she tries to protect that man’s 9-year-old daughter Emily (Chloe Coleman).

I can’t believe how much I absolutely hated a good part of this movie, because I generally like Gillan and some of the others in this movie, but I don’t any of them are doing particularly good work. For instance, Paul Giamatti is in full-on scenery-chewing mode as head of the Firm, but there’s also a great trio of women known as the Librarians, played by Michelle Yeoh, Carla Gugino and Angela Bassett, who I wish were in the film more than they actually are, because they literally are the best part of the film. (I also was pretty disappointed by Coleman’s bland performance lacking any of the personality she showed in My Spy, in which she was very funny.)

Basically, it feels like this is another filmmaker who has seen Tarantino’s Kill BIll a few dozen times and thought they could do something just as cool. The fact that it’s so flagrant and obvious in its ripping that movie off, it’s almost impossible to fully enjoy it. What’s really missing is Tarantino’s knack for sharp writing, because the writing in this movie is just terrible.

I thought the score was probably the most interesting aspect of the movie, but even that was highly derivative of what Tarantino has done. Even the needle drop choices during the bigger action pieces feel too much like something Tarantino might do, but generally better.

Sure, there’s some cool action scenes, and the last act generally gets better once Headey and the Librarians rejoin the fray to fight off a cadre of henchmen, but the writing never improves, so it’s just a movie that relies on far too many “oooo… Cooooool!” moments that never really come together.

As much as Gunpowder Milkshake tries to be cool and stylish, it always feels like it’s trying too hard without understanding why movies like Tarantino’s and others work so well. Any of the bad-ass fight sequences are constantly marred as soon as there tries to be any sort of talking or story.

Rating: 5.5/10

The third part of the horror series based on R.L. Stine’s books, FEAR STREET PART 3: 1666 (Netflix), will hit the streamer on Friday, this one being a prequel to the previous two movies, taking place in 1666. I’m still behind on this series, but looking forward to a night where I can finally watch all three.

I definitely had more movies to watch than usual that I just didn’t get to include some of them like Martin WIlson’s directorial debut, the horror-thriller GREAT WHITE (RLJEfilms/Shudder), which stars Katrina Bowden and others, about a tourist trip that turns into a nightmare when five passengers on a sea plane get stranded miles from the shore and try to survive as they run out of supplies and run into, you guessed it, a shark. Sounds like my kind of movie, but I’ve just been swamped.

I was pretty tickled by the premise for Jean-Paul Salomé’s MAMA WEED (Brainstorm Media/Music Box Films), starring the wonderful Isabelle Hupert as Patience, a French-Arabic translator for the Paris anti-narcotics police unit who interprets calls between the city’s top drug dealers. She’s taking care of her aging mother and one day she hears the son of one of her mother’s nurses, so she tries to protect him but ends up with a huge cache of hash, so she becomes a drug dealer herself, becoming the persona of “Mama Weed.” Nominated for a César for its screenplay, the movie will open in select theaters this Friday and then be available On Demand on July 23.

Another doc of note is Aisling Chin-Yee and Chase Joynt’s NO ORDINARY MAN (Oscilloscope), which tells the story of American jazz musician Billy Tipton who had spent his entire career passing off as a man, unbeknownst to his wife and son that he was born female. It’s an intriguing story that unfortunately got mangled by the talk shows after Tipton’s death in 1989, but the filmmakers use an interesting way to tell the story rather than using talking heads. I haven’t actually watched it yet, but it sounds intriguing. It will open at the IFC Center in New York and the Landmark Nuart in L.A. on Friday.

Debuting on Hulu this week is the amazing six-part docuseries called MCCARTNEY 3, 2, 1 (Hulu), which as you can safely assume is about Beatles founder Paul McCartney, covering his sixty-year career as he talks with producer Rick Rubin in a studio filled with instruments and tapes of some of the great songs that Rubin mixes different elements up and down to discuss how they were done with McCartney. I generally love music docs, but this is something truly special that I expect to rewatch many times over the next few years.

Netflix also has a new docuseries called HEIST (Netflix) and is debuting a doc about tennis great, Naomi Osaka, this week. Meanwhile, the anthology prequel series, American Horror Stories, debuts on FX and FX on Hulu this week, as well, so it’s a pretty busy weekend, which was bound to happen after last week’s bye week.

Other movies out this week that I didn’t get to include:

Die in a Gunfight (Lionsgate) Out of Death (Vertical) Casanova, Last Love (Cohen Media) How to Deter a Robber

Next week, two more new movies, including the action prequel, SNAKE EYES, starring Henry Golding, and M. Night Shyamalan’s new thriller, OLD.