Tag Archives: 2022 Reviews

Over the hills and far away: 15 films for St. Patrick’s Day

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on March 18, 2023)

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With Saint Patrick’s celebrations in full swing this weekend, I thought I’d help you get your Irish up and drive those snakes from your media room with 15 grand film recommendations.

Sláinte!

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The Commitments – Casting talented yet unknown actor/musicians to portray a group of talented yet unknown musicians was a stroke of genius by director Alan Parker. This “life imitating art imitating life” trick works wonders. The Commitments can be seen as a riff on Parker’s 1980 film Fame; swapping the locale from New York City to Dublin (there’s a bit of a wink in a scene where one of the band members breaks into a parody of the Fame theme).

However, these working-class kids don’t have the luxury of attending a performing arts academy; there’s an undercurrent referencing the economic downturn in the British Isles. The acting chemistry is superb, but it’s the musical performances that shine, especially from (then) 16-year old Andrew Strong. In 2007, cast member Glen Hansard co-starred in John Carney’s surprise low-budget hit, Once, a lovely character study that would make a perfect double bill with The Commitments.

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Darby O’Gill and the Little People – Sean Connery…in a film about leprechauns?! Well, stranger things have happened. Albert Sharpe gives a delightful performance as lead character Darby O’Gill in this 1959 fantasy from perennially family-friendly director Robert Stevenson (Mary Poppins, The Love Bug, The Absent-Minded Professor, That Darn Cat!).

Darby is a crusty yet benign b.s. artist who finds himself embroiled in the kind of tale no one would believe if he told them it were true-matching wits with the King of the Leprechauns (Jimmy O’Dea), who has offered to play matchmaker between Darby’s daughter (Janet Munro) and the strapping pre-Bond Connery. The special effects hold up surprisingly well (considering the limitations of the time). The scenes between Sharpe and O’Dea are especially amusing. “Careful what you say…I speak Gaelic too!”.

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A Date for Mad Mary – Seana Kerslake makes a remarkable debut in Darren Thornton’s 2017 dramedy (co-written by the director with his brother Colin) about a troubled young woman who is being dragged kicking and screaming (and swearing like a sailor) into adulthood. Fresh from 6 months in a Dublin jail for instigating a drunken altercation, 20-year-old “mad” Mary (Kerslake) is asked to be maid of honor by her BFF Charlene. Assuming that her volatile friend won’t find a date, Charlene refuses her a “plus one”. Ever the contrarian, Mary insists she will; leading to an unexpected relationship.

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Garage – At once heartbreaking and uplifting, this 2007 character study by director Leonard Abrahamson and writer Mark O’Halloran is an underappreciated gem. It’s a deceptively simple story about an emotionally stunted yet affable thirty-something bachelor named Josie (Pat Shortt), who tends a gas station in a small country village (he bunks in the garage). When he befriends a teenager (Conor Ryan) who takes a summer job at the gas station, it unexpectedly sets off a chain of life-shaking events for Josie. Shortt (a popular comic in his home country) gives an astonishing performance. I like the way the film continually challenges expectations. An insightful and affecting glimpse at the human condition.

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Hear My Song – This charming, quirky comedy-drama from writer-director Peter Chelsom (Funny Bones) concerns an Irish club-owner in England (Adrian Dunbar) who’s having a streak of bad luck. He’s not only on the outs with his lovely fiancée (Tara Fitzgerald), but is forced to shut down his venue after a series of dud bookings (like “Franc Cinatra”) puts him seriously in the red. Determined to win back his ladylove and get his club back in the black, he stows away on a freighter headed for his native Dublin. He enlists an old pal to help him hunt down and book a legendary tenor (Ned Beatty, in one of his best roles) who has hasn’t performed publicly in decades. Fabulous script, direction, and acting. Funny, touching and guaranteed to lift your spirits.

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I Am Belfast – I try not to use “visual tone poem” as a descriptive if I can avoid it…but sometimes, there is no avoiding it. As in this case, with Irish director Mark Cousins’ meditation on his beloved home city. Part documentary and part (here it comes) visual tone poem, Cousins ponders the past, present and possible future of Belfast’s people, legacy and spirit.

I’m fairly sure Cousins is going for the vibe of the 1988 Terence Davies film Distant Voices, Still Lives, a similar mélange of sense memory, fluid timelines and painterly visuals (he waxes poetically about the aforementioned film in his epic 15-hour documentary, The Story of Film). Lovely cinematography by Christopher Doyle. A rewarding experience for patient viewers.

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In Bruges – OK, full disclosure. In my original review, I gave this 2008 Sundance hit a somewhat lukewarm appraisal. But upon a second viewing, then a third… I realized that I like this film quite a lot (happens sometimes…nobody’s perfect!).

A pair of Irish hit men (Brendan Gleeson and Colin Farrell) botch a job in London and are exiled to the Belgian city of Bruges, where they are ordered to lay low until their piqued Cockney employer (an over the top Ray Fiennes) dictates their next move. What ensues can be best described as a tragicomic Boschian nightmare (which will make more sense once you’ve seen it).

Writer-director Martin McDonagh (who deftly juggles “fook” as a noun, adverb, super adverb and adjective) re-enlisted In Bruges stars Gleeson and Farrell as the leads for his Oscar-nominated 2022 dramedy The Banshees of Inisherin (also recommended!).

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Into the West – A gem from one of the more underappreciated “all-purpose” directors, Mike Newell (Dance With a Stranger, Enchanted April, Four Weddings and a Funeral, Donnie Brasco, Pushing Tin). At first glance, it falls into the “magical family film” category, but it carries a subtly dark undercurrent with it throughout, which keeps it interesting for the adults in the room. Lovely performances, a magic horse, and one pretty pair o’ humans (Ellen Barkin and Gabriel Byrne, real-life spouses at the time).

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Miller’s Crossing–his 1990 gangster flick could only come from the unique mind-meld of Joel and Ethan Coen (with shades of Dasheill Hammet). The late Albert Finney is excellent as an Irish mob boss engaging in a power struggle with the local Italian mob during the Prohibition era. Gabriel Byrne (the central character of the film) portrays his advisor, who attempts to broker peace.

You do have to pay attention in order to keep up with the constantly shifting alliances and betrayals and such; but as with most Coen Brothers movies, if you lose track of the narrative you always have plenty of great supporting performances (particularly from Marcia Gay Harden and John Torturro) , stylish flourishes, and mordant humor to chew on until you catch up again.

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My Left Foot – The first (and best) of three collaborations between writer-director Jim Sheridan and actor Daniel Day-Lewis (1993’s In the Name of the Father and 1997’s The Boxer were to follow). This moving 1989 biopic concerns Christy Brown, a severely palsied man who became a renowned author, poet and painter despite daunting physical challenges.

Thankfully, the film makers avoid the audience-pandering shtick of turning its protagonist into the cinematic equivalent of a lovable puppy (see Rainman, I Am Sam); Brown is fearlessly portrayed by Day-Lewis “warts and all” with peccadilloes laid bare. As a result, you acclimate to Day-Lewis’ physical tics, allowing Brown to emerge as a complex human being, not merely an object of pity.

Day-Lewis deservedly picked up an Oscar, as did Brenda Fricker, who snagged Best Supporting Actress as Brown’s mother. Don’t let Day-Lewis’ presence overshadow 13-year old Hugh O’Conor’s work as young Christy; he gives an equally impressive performance.

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Odd Man Out – An absorbing film noir from the great director Carol Reed (The Third Man, The Fallen Idol). James Mason is excellent as a gravely wounded Irish rebel who is on the run from the authorities through the shadowy backstreets of Belfast. Interestingly, the I.R.A. is never referred to directly, but the turmoil borne of Northern Ireland’s “troubles” is definitely implied by word and action throughout F.L. Green and R.C. Sherriff’s intelligent screenplay (adapted from Green’s original novel). Unique for its time, it still holds up well as a “heist gone wrong”/chase thriller with political undercurrents. The top-notch cast includes Robert Newton and Cyril Cusack.

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Older Than Ireland With age, comes wisdom. Just don’t ask a centenarian to impart any, because they might smack you. Not that there is violence in Alex Fegan and Garry Walsh’s doc, but there is consensus among interviewees (aged 100-113) that the question they find most irksome is: “What’s your secret to living so long?” Once that hurdle is cleared, Fegan and Walsh’s subjects have much to impart in this moving and entertaining pastiche of the human experience. Do yourself a favor: turn off your personal devices, watch this wondrous film and plug yourself into humankind’s forgotten backup system: the Oral Tradition.  (Full review)

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The Quiet Man – I’ll admit to never having been a huge John Wayne fan, but he’s perfect in this John Ford classic as a down-on-his-luck boxer who leaves America to get in touch with his roots in his native Ireland. The most entertaining (and purloined) donnybrook of all time, plus a fiery performance from gorgeous Maureen O’Hara round things off nicely. Although tame by modern standards, romantic scenes between Wayne and O’Hara are quite fervid for the era. The pastoral valleys and rolling hills of the Irish countryside have never looked lovelier, thanks to Winton C. Hoch and Archie Stout’s Oscar-winning cinematography.

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The Secret of Roan Inish – John Sayles delivers an engaging fairy tale, devoid of the usual genre clichés. Wistful, haunting and beautifully shot by the great cinematographer Haskell Wexler, who captures the misty desolation of County Donegal’s rugged coastline in a way that frequently recalls Michael Powell’s similarly effective utilization of Scotland’s Shetland Islands for his 1937 classic, The Edge of the World. The seals should have received a special Oscar for Best Performance by a Sea Mammal. Ork, ork!

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his 2014 animated fantasy from writer-director Tomm Moore centers on a melancholic lighthouse keeper named Conor (voiced by Brendan Gleeson), who is raising his young son and daughter following the tragic loss of his wife, who died in childbirth.

After his daughter is nearly swept out to sea one night, Conor decides the children would be better off staying with their grandmother in the city. The kids aren’t so crazy about this plan; after a few days with grandma they make a run for it. Before they can wend their way back home, they are waylaid by a succession of characters that seem to have popped out of one of the traditional Irish fairy tales that Conor’s mother used to tell him as a child.

Moore’s film has a timeless quality and a visual aesthetic on par with the best of Studio Ghibli. There is something in Moore’s hand-drawn animation that I find sorely lacking in the computer-generated “product” glutting multiplexes these days: genuine heart.

Getting better all the time (can’t get no worse): A New Year’s Eve mix tape

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on December 31, 2022)

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All is quiet, on New Year’s Day. Except for this mixtape (you may adjust your volume per hangover conditions tomorrow morning). Cheers!

“This Will Be Our Year” – The Zombies – Starting on a positive note. Lovely Beatle-esque number from the Odyssey and Oracle album.

You don’t have to worry
All your worried days are gone
This will be our year
Took a long time to come

At least…we can always hope, right?

“Time”David Bowie – A song as timeless as Bowie himself. Time, he’s waiting in the wings/He speaks of senseless things

1999″ – Prince – Sadly, it’s a perennial question: “Mommy…why does everybody have a bomb?”

“1921” – The WhoGot a feeling ’21 is gonna be a good year. OK, back to the drawing board …let’s make ’23 a better one.

“Time” – Oscar Brown, Jr. – A wise and soulful gem…tick, tock.

“New Year’s Day” – U2 – I know… “Bold pick, Captain Obvious!” But it’s still a great song.

 “Year of the Cat” – Al StewartOld Grey Whistle Test clip. Strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorre, contemplating a crime

“Reeling in the Years” – Steely Dan – A pop-rock classic with a killer solo by Elliot Randall.

“New Year’s Resolution” – Otis Redding & Carla Thomas – Ace Stax B-side from 1968, with that unmistakable “Memphis sound”. Speaking of which… check out my review of the Stax music doc, Take Me to the River.

Same Old Lang Syne” – Dan Fogelberg – OK, a nod to those who insist on waxing sentimental. A beautiful tune from the late singer-songwriter.

Bonus track!

Not a “New Year’s song” per se, but an evergreen new year’s wish.

And in the end: Revival69: The Concert That Rocked the World (***½)

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on December 24, 2022)

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“After the Plastic Ono Band’s debut in Toronto…John finally brought it to its head. He said, ‘Well, that’s it, lads. Let’s end it. And we all said ‘Yes’.”

-Ringo Starr, from The Beatles Anthology (2000)

In September 1969, scarcely a month after the heady smoke of Woodstock had cleared, another music festival of note took place a little farther up north. While it couldn’t boast a crowd of “half a million strong” (just a scant 20,000) The Toronto Rock and Roll Revival arguably one-upped Woodstock’s stellar roster with its headliner: The Plastic Ono Band.

I say “arguably”, because at the time, no one in the audience had ever heard of The Plastic Ono Band. Hell…even the members of The Plastic Ono Band had never heard of The Plastic Ono Band, because founders John Lennon and Yoko Ono didn’t come up with the name (or the concept) until the day before the group’s debut performance in Toronto. The booking was so last-minute and seat-of-the-pants that their first “rehearsal” occurred (literally) on the fly…while en route to the gig on a chartered jet from England.

Of course, everyone in the audience knew who John Lennon was; the Beatles were still at the height of their success and fame. What the public didn’t know at the time was that the Toronto gig arose at a serendipitous moment, when Lennon found himself at a critical crossroads in his professional life. He was 28 years old. The Beatles had released their swan song Abbey Road earlier that year, and the band was on the verge of disintegrating.

Granted, Lennon had already been quite active outside of the band. He and Yoko had become prominent counterculture figures, known for their political activism and advocacy for peace and social justice. In March 1969, the couple married and held a week-long anti-Vietnam War “Bed-In” protest, garnering much media attention. They released the experimental album “Unfinished Music No. 1: Two Virgins.” Lennon also published his book of poems and drawings In His Own Write, which became a best-seller.

Meanwhile, in private Lennon struggled with depression and addiction; he later admitted to heavy drug use during this time (he and Yoko were both chasing the dragon). Creative differences with his band mates, as well as increasingly bitter stalemates regarding certain business decisions, were undoubtedly adding to Lennon’s tsuris. In short, things within the Beatles organization weren’t getting better (it can’t get no worse). The Toronto concert turned out to be not only the tonic he needed for regaining his confidence as a performer (he hadn’t played for a large crowd since the Beatles had stopped touring in 1966) but fueled his decision to officially leave the Beatles just a scant 7 days afterwards.

Exactly how John & Yoko, along with the hastily assembled Eric Clapton, Alan White, and Klaus Voorman (not too shabby for a pickup band) ended up headlining the event makes for a fascinating backstage tale…and it is recounted with much aplomb in a breezy documentary from Rob Chapman called Revival69: The Concert That Rocked the World.

Archival interviews, private audio recordings, present-day recollections by participants like John Brower (festival organizer), Klaus Voorman, Alice Cooper, Rodney Bingenheimer, Geddy Lee (acid-dazed teenage attendee!), Shep Gordon, Robby Kreiger, Robert Christgau, et.al. and original 16mm concert/backstage footage shot by legendary documentarian D.A. Pennebaker (much of it previously unreleased) are all combined to great effect.

While The Plastic Ono Band’s appearance is of undeniable historical import, this was an all-day event, and the roster was impressive: Chuck Berry, Little Richard, Jerry Lee Lewis, Bo Diddley, Gene Vincent, Chicago, The Doors, and Alice Cooper are hardly what I’d consider “opening acts”. The Pennebaker footage is priceless, capturing electric performances with beautifully restored picture and sound. Unfortunately, Pennebaker’s original 1971 concert doc Sweet Toronto remains woefully scarce on home video; relegated to the odd unauthorized edition of less-than-stellar quality (paging the Criterion Collection).

Brower recalls how he came up with the idea for the festival while working as a promoter for the Rolling Stones’ 1969 North American tour. As his (at times hair-raising)  narrative unfolds, it appears organizing such an event is easier said than done. At one point, with ticket sales looking dismal and only days to go before the heavily promoted event, he is ready to throw in the towel (at the risk of suffering serious bodily harm from dubious silent partners). However, an unlikely deus ex machina alights in the form of eccentric impresario Kim Fowley, who has a ballsy 11th-hour brainstorm (with 20/20 hindsight, it was a rather brilliant one, actually).

The film is chockablock with fun facts. I had no idea this was the first rock concert where the audience held lit matches aloft (another brainstorm by Fowley, who encouraged the crowd to welcome John & Yoko onstage with their own light show). Alice Cooper and his longtime manager Shep Gordon finally confirm “the truth” behind the infamous “chicken incident” that occurred during his band’s performance (as God is his witness, Alice thought that chickens could fly).

The film is a treat for Lennon completists, and rock and roll fans in general. Currently, the film is only exhibiting in Canada, but hopefully will be distributed in the U.S. (or become available via streaming or physical media) at some point in the near future.

And on behalf of the band here at Hullabaloo…Happy Crimble, and Peace.

Such a clatter: A holiday mixtape

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on December 17, 2022)

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I’m guessing you’ve already had it up to “here” with holly jolly Burl Ives and Rudolph with his frigging red nose so bright wafting out of every elevator in sight. Christmas comes but once a year; this too shall soon pass. I promise I won’t torture you with the obvious and overplayed. Rather, I have curated 15 selections that aren’t flogged to death every year; some deeper cuts (and a few novelty items) for your Xmas creel.

Happy Crimble, and a Very New Year!

All I Want For Christmas – The Bobs

The Bobs have been stalking me. They formed in the early 80s, in San Francisco. I was living in San Francisco in the early 80s; I recall catching them as an opening act for The Plimsouls (I think…or maybe Greg Kihn) at The Keystone in Berkeley. I remember having my mind blown by a cappella renditions of “Psycho Killer” and “Helter Skelter”. Later, I resettled in Seattle. Later, they resettled in Seattle. I wish they’d quit following me! This is a lovely number from their 1996 album Too Many Santas.

Ave Maria – Stevie Wonder

There are songs that you do not tackle if you don’t have the pipes (unless you want to be jeered offstage, or out of the ball park). “The Star Spangled Banner” comes to mind; as does “Nessun dorma”. “Ave Maria” is right up there too. Not only does Stevie nail the vocal, but he whips out the most sublime harmonica solo this side of Toots Thielemans.

Blue Xmas – Bob Dorough w/ the Miles Davis Sextet

The hippest “Bah, humbug!” of all time. “Gimme gimme gimme…”

Christmas at the Airport – Nick Lowe

Wry and tuneful as ever at 72, veteran pub-rocker/power-popper/balladeer Nick Lowe continues to compose, produce, record and tour. This is from his 2013 Christmas album, Quality Street. I think a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame nomination is overdue.

Christmas in Suburbia – The Cleaners From Venus

Despite the fact that he writes hook-laden, Beatle-esque pop gems in his sleep, and has been doing so for five decades, endearingly eccentric singer-musician-songwriter-poet Martin Newell (Cleaners From Venus, Brotherhood of Lizards) remains a selfishly-guarded secret by cult-ish admirers (of which I am one). But since it is the holidays, I’m feeling magnanimous-so I will share him with you now (you’re welcome).

Christmas Wish – NRBQ

NRBQ has been toiling in relative obscurity since 1966, despite nearly 50 albums and a rep for crowd-pleasing live shows. I think they’ve fallen through the cracks because they are tough to pigeonhole; they’re equally at home with power-pop, blues, rock, jazz, R&B, country or goofy covers. This is from their eponymous 2007 album.

I Yust Go Nuts at Christmas – Yogi Yorgesson

I first heard this tune about the “joys” of holiday gatherings on “The Dr. Demento Show” . It always puts me in hysterics, especially: “My mouth tastes like a pickle.”

Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring – Leo Kottke

In 1969, an LP entitled 6- and 12-String Guitar quietly slid into record stores. The cover had a painting of an armadillo, with “Leo Kottke” emblazoned above. In the 50+ years since, “the armadillo album” has become a touchstone for aspiring guitarists, introducing the world to a gifted player with a unique and expressive finger picking technique. Kottke’s lovely take on a Bach classic is a highlight.

River – Joni Mitchell

Not a jolly “laughing all the way” singalong; but this is my list, and I’m sticking to it. Besides, Joni opens with a “Jingle Bells” piano quote, and the lyrics are stuffed with Christmas references. Oft-covered, but it doesn’t make a lot of holiday playlists.

Santa – Lightnin’ Hopkins

Best Christmas blues ever, by the poet laureate of the Delta.

Now, I happened to see these old people learning the young ones,
Yeah just learning them exactly what to do.
So sweet, it’s so sweet to see these old people,
Learning they old children just what to do.
Mother said a million-year-ago Santa Claus come to me,
Now this year he gone come to you.

My little sister said take your stocking now,
Hang it up on the head of the bed.
Talkin’ to her friend she said take your stocking,
And please hang it up on head of the bed.
And she said know we all God’s saint children,
In the morning Ol’ Santa Claus gone see that we all is fed.

Sleigh Ride– The Ventures

I’ve never personally seen anyone “hang ten” in Puget Sound; nonetheless, one of the greatest surf bands ever hails from Tacoma. This jaunty mashup of a Christmas classic with “Walk, Don’t Run” sports tasty fretwork by Nokie Edwards and Don Wilson (sadly, co-founder and rhythm guitarist Wilson passed away earlier this year at the age of 88).

Sometimes You Have to Work on Christmas – Harvey Danger

Ho-ho-ho, here’s your %&#!@ change. We’ve all been there at one time or another. I have a soft spot for this music video (It’s a Wonderful Life meets Clerks) because it features one of my favorite neighborhood theaters here in Seattle-The Grand Illusion.

Stoned Soul Christmas – Binky Griptite

“Man, what’s the matter with you…don’t you know it’s Christmas?!” A funky sleigh ride down to the stoned soul Christmas with guitarist/DJ Binky Griptite (formerly of The Dap Kings). A clever reworking of Laura Nyro’s  “Stoned Soul Picnic.” Nice.

A Winter’s Tale – Jade Warrior

Not a Christmas song per se, but it certainly evokes a cozy holiday scenario:

Ivy tapping on my window, wine and candle glow,
Skies that promise snow have gathered overhead.
Buttered toast and creamy coffee, table laid for two,
Lovely having you to share a smile with me.

A beautiful track from an underappreciated UK prog-rock band.

‘Zat You, Santa Claus? – Louis Armstrong

The great jazz growler queries a night prowler who may or may not be the jolly old elf.

Bonus track!

What begins as a performance of “Everlong” turns into a rousing Christmas medley in this 2017 performance by the Foo Fighters on Saturday Night Live. Good grief!

Marvel-less: Top 10 of 2022

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on December 10, 2022)

It’s time for the obligatory list, culled from the first-run films I reviewed in 2022:

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Day by Day – Felix Herngren’s dramedy (scripted by Tapio Leopold) is a delightful, life-affirming road movie from Sweden about…death. Before a terminally ill man (Sven Wallter) can make his getaway for a solo trip to a Swiss assisted-suicide clinic, several of his longtime friends at the retirement home catch wind of his plans, and it turns into a group outing (much to his chagrin). Lovely European travelogue (nicely photographed by Viktor Davidson). Funny and touching (yes …I laughed, I cried). Sadly, Wallter passed away soon after the film wrapped, adding poignancy to his performance.

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Drunken Birds ­– Ivan Grbovic’s languidly paced, beautifully photographed culture clash/class war drama (Canada’s 2022 Oscar submission) concerns a Mexican cartel worker who finds migrant work in Quebec while seeking a long-lost love. Grbovic co-wrote with Sara Mishara. Mishara pulls double duty as DP; her painterly cinematography adds to the echoes of Terrence Malick’s Days of Heaven. It also reminded me of Ang Lee’s The Ice Storm; a network narrative about people desperately seeking emotional connection amid a minefield of miscommunication. (Streaming on Prime Video)

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Hallelujah: Leonard Cohen, A Journey, A Song – Several years ago, I saw Tom Jones at the Santa Barbara Bowl. Naturally, he did his cavalcade of singalong hits, but an unexpected moment occurred mid-set, when he launched into Leonard Cohen’s “Tower of Song”. Jones’ performance felt so intimate, confessional, and emotionally resonant that you’d think Cohen had tailored it just for him. When Jones sang, I was born like this, I had no choice/I was born with the gift of a golden voice, I “got” it. Why shouldn’t Tom Jones cover a Cohen song? I later learned “Tower of Song” has also been covered by the likes of U2, Nick Cave, and The Jesus and Mary Chain.

A truly great song tends to transcend its composer, taking on a life of its own. The reasons why can be as enigmatic as the act of creation itself. In an archival clip in Dan Geller and Dayna Goldfine’s beautifully constructed documentary, the late Cohen muses, “If I knew where songs came from, I’d go there more often.” Using the backstory of his beloved composition “Hallelujah” as a catalyst, the filmmakers take us “there”, rendering a moving, spiritual portrait of a poet, a singer-songwriter, and a seeker. (Streaming on Prime Video)

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The Integrity of Joseph Chambers – This psychological thriller has a slow burn, but really gets under your skin. Early one morning, a white-collar father of two (Clayne Crawford) rolls out of his warm bed and readies himself to go deer hunting. His half-awake (and concerned) wife reminds him he has never gone hunting by himself and has limited experience with firearms. Undeterred, he insists that the best way to get experience is to “just go out and do it.” After stopping at a friend’s house to borrow his pickup truck (and a rifle), he heads for the woods. What could possibly go wrong? Anchored by Crawford’s intense performance, writer-director Robert Machoian has fashioned a riveting tale infused with a dash of Dostoevsky and a dollop of Deliverance.

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The Man in the Basement (aka L’Homme de la Cave) – There are fifty shades of Chabrol in Philippe Le Guay’s “neighbor from hell” thriller (scripted by Le Guay with Gilles Taurand and Marc Weitzmann).  One of my favorite contemporary French actors, François Cluzet (Tell No One) plays a quiet fellow who buys the unused basement of an upper-crust couple’s Parisian apartment, presumably for storage. With the ink barely dry on the deed, the couple realize too late that he clearly intends to live in the cellar (sans plumbing). It gets worse when they find out that his online persona is every liberal’s nightmare. Always check references!

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Moonage Daydream – David Bowie invented the idea of “re-invention”. It’s also possible that he invented a working time machine because he was always ahead of the curve (or leading the herd). He was the poster boy for “postmodern”. Space rock? Meet Major Tom. Glam rock? Meet Ziggy Stardust. Doom rock? Meet the Diamond Dog. Neo soul? Meet the Thin White Duke. Electronica? Ich bin ein Berliner. New Romantic? We all know Major Tom’s a junkie

Of all his personas, “David Jones” is the most enigmatic; perhaps, as suggested in Brett Morgen’s trippy film, even to Bowie himself. More On the Road than on the records, Morgen’s kaleidoscopic thesis is a globe-trotting odyssey of an artist in search of himself. This is anything but a traditional, linear biography. Morgen doesn’t tell you everything about Bowie’s life, he simply shows you. Even if David Jones remains elusive as credits roll, the journey itself is absorbing and ultimately moving. Think of it as the Koyaanisqatsi of rock docs. (Full review) (Streaming on Amazon Prime)

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My Love Affair With Marriage – It’s a safe bet that the most oft-asked question throughout history (well, after “Where’s the restroom?”) is “What is love?”. Philosophers, poets, writers, psychologists and even scientists have tackled this age-old query, and come up with just as many disparate explanations. This lack of consensus informs the clever conceit behind Latvian animator Signe Baumane’s mixed-media feature.

Baumane’s semi-autobiographical study follows “Zelma” as she navigates the various passages of sexual self-awareness from childhood to adulthood…which then presents her with the complexities of love and relationships. Zelma’s vignettes are interspersed with neuroscience/biochemistry analyses done in the style of high school educational films (remember those?), with the odd musical number thrown in. Funny, touching, and insightful.

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Nude Tuesday – I must warn you: this film (from New Zealand) is complete gibberish. Literally…the dialog is spoken in a made-up language. Frankly, I was fully prepared to find this gimmick annoying, but thankfully a) there are subtitles and b) the film is nonetheless entertaining.

Writer-director Armagan Ballantyne’s off-the wall dramedy concerns middle-aged couple Laura and Bruno (co-screenwriter Jackie van Beek and Damon Harriman), who have hit a roadblock in their marriage. Bruno’s mother browbeats them into attending a couple’s retreat, to rekindle their passion. The resort is lorded over by a free-spirited sex guru (played with aplomb by Jemaine Clement). Vacillating between riotous cringe comedy and surprising sweetness, the film also pokes gentle fun at “self-actualization” culture (reminiscent of Bill Persky’s 1980 satire Serial).

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Sweetheart Deal ­– Dopesick and finding temporary solace from an RV-dwelling man of means by no means dubbed “The Mayor of Aurora Avenue”, four sex workers (Kristine, Sara, Amy, and Tammy) strive to keep life and soul together as they walk an infamous Seattle strip. With surprising twists and turns, Elisa Levine and Gabriel Miller’s astonishingly intimate portrait is the most intense, heart-wrenching, and compassionate documentary I have seen about Seattle street life since Streetwise.

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Polystyrene: I Am A Cliché – I reckon few artists consciously set out to be “groundbreaking” or “influential”, but whether by accident or design, 19-year-old Poly Styrene came out of the gate flying in the face of fashion. She not only fearlessly waded into the male-dominated punk world of the late 70s (which, despite its association with an anti-racist, anti-fascist ethos, was an overtly “laddish” club), but did  so as a woman of color (the Anglo-Somali singer-songwriter is credited as the progenitor of the Riot Grrrl and Afro-Punk movements).

If you’ve ever seen X-Ray Spex’s video for “Oh Bondage Up Yours”, you know that Styrene had a charismatic presence and a unique, powerful voice that belied her diminutive stature. With its “fuck you” lyrics and strident vocal, that song is now a feminist punk anthem; but according to this absorbing documentary (co-directed by narrator Celeste Bell and Paul Sng, with additional narration by Ruth Negga) Styrene never really identified as a feminist or a punk. A lovely portrait of a troubled but inspiring artist. (Full review). (Streaming on Hulu)

Honorable mentions:

A couple of 2022 releases I didn’t initially review, but recommend:

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Kimi– I somehow missed this tight little thriller from Steven Soderbergh when it dropped on HBO Max earlier this year, but stumbled across it recently (so much content, so little time). Zoe Kravitz gives a terrific performance as an agoraphobic tech who works from home for a corporation called Amygdala, monitoring their A-I product “Kimi” (rhymes with “Siri”). When she happens across a digital file that may have captured audio of a woman’s murder, her world gets turned upside down. A clever mash-up of Rear Window, Repulsion, and The Conversation, with a whiff of The Parallax View… updated for the age of pandemic paranoia. David Keopp scripted.

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Confess, Fletch – First, my confession that I’ve always had a soft spot for the first Fletch film with Chevy Chase (never saw Fletch Lives). But I was intrigued to see a resurrection of the franchise 33 years after the previous entry, and pleasantly surprised at how entertaining Greg Mottola’s adaptation of Gregory McDonald’s eponymous 1976 comedy-mystery was. I swear Jon Hamm is channeling Cary Grant throughout, and he is ably supported by a delightful cast that includes Marcia Gay Harden, Kyle MacLachlan, and Roy Wood, Jr. Granted, it’s lightweight fare, but I haven’t laughed this hard at a modern comedy for grown-ups in quite some time.

…and just for giggles

Holy Krampus…have I really been writing reviews here for 16 years?! I was but a child of 50 when I began in November of 2006 (I was much older then, but I’m younger than that now). Here are my “top 10” picks for each year since I began writing for Hullabaloo.

(You may want to bookmark this post as a  handy reference for movie night).

[Click on title for full review]

2007

Eastern Promises, The Hoax, In the Shadow of the Moon, Kurt Cobain: About a Son, Michael Clayton, My Best Friend, No Country for Old Men, Pan’s Labyrinth, PaprikaZodiac

2008

Burn After Reading, The Dark Knight, The Gits, Happy Go Lucky, Honeydripper, Man on Wire, Milk, Slumdog Millionaire, Vicky Cristina Barcelona, The Visitor

2009

The Baader Meinhof Complex, Inglourious Basterds, In the Loop, The Limits of Control, The Messenger, A Serious Man, Sin Nombre, Star Trek, Where the Wild Things Are, The Yes Men Fix the World

2010

Creation, Inside Job, Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work, Little Big Soldier, A Matter of Size, My Dog Tulip, Nowhere Boy, Oceans, The Runaways, Son of Babylon

2011

Another Earth, Certified Copy, The Descendants, Drei, Drive, The First Grader, Midnight in Paris, Summer Wars, Tinker/Tailor/Soldier/Spy, The Trip

2012

Applause, Dark Horse, Killer Joe, The Master, Paul Williams: Still Alive, Rampart, Samsara, Skyfall, The Story of Film: an Odyssey, Your Sister’s Sister

2013

The Act of Killing, Big Star: Nothing Can Hurt Me, Computer Chess, 56 Up, The Hunt, Mud, The Rocket, The Silence, The Sweeney, Upstream Color

2014

Birdman, Child’s Pose, A Coffee in Berlin, The Grand Budapest Hotel, Kill the Messenger, The Last Days of Vietnam, Life Itself, A Summer’s Tale, The Wind Rises, The Theory of Everything

2015

Chappie, Fassbinder: Love Without Demands, An Italian Name, Liza the Fox Fairy, Love and Mercy, A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence, Song of the Sea, Tangerines, Trumbo, When Marnie Was There

2016

The Curve, Eat That Question, Hail, Caesar!, Home Care, Jackie, Mekko, Older Than Ireland, Snowden, The Tunnel, Weiner

2017

After the Storm, Bad Black, Becoming Who I Was, Blade Runner 2049, A Date for Mad Mary, Endless Poetry, I Am Not Your Negro, Loving Vincent, The Women’s Balcony, Your Name

2018

Big Sonia, BlacKkKlansman, Fahrenheit 11/9, The Guilty, Let the Sunshine In, Little Tito and the Aliens, Outside In, Ryuichi Sakamoto: Coda, Wild Wild Country, Won’t You Be My Neighbor?

2019

David Crosby: Remember My Name, Dolemite is My Name, Driveways, The Edge of Democracy, The Irishman, Monos, Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, Putin’s Witnesses, This is Not Berlin, Wild Rose

2020

Bloody Nose, Empty Pockets, Capital in the Twenty-First Century, Desert One, Love Spreads, Never, Rarely, Sometimes, Always, Pacified, 76 Days, Tommaso, The Trial of the Chicago 7, Weathering With You

2021

Brian Wilson: Long Promised Road, Fire Music, Heist of the Century, Kurt Vonnegut: Unstuck in Time, The Last Film Show, The Paper Tigers, The Pebble and the Boy, Surge, Waikiki, Whelm

Pretty good saplings: Last Flight Home (****)

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on December 3, 2022)

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Don’t nobody know what I’m talking about
I’ve got my own life to live
I’m the one that’s gonna have to die
When it’s time for me to die
So let me live my life
The way I want to, yeah
Sing on brother
Play on drummer

-Jimi Hendrix, “If 6 was 9”

In February 2017, my dear mother passed away at 86. While she had been weathering a plethora of health issues for years, the final straw (pancreatic cancer) had been diagnosed by her doctor only several weeks prior. When she called to give me the news, I told her I would immediately book a flight to Ohio. “I don’t want you to be here yet,” she told me. I was taken aback; but knowing how headstrong she was, I figured she had her reasons.

Unfortunately, her turn for the worse was so sudden that my flight (prompted by a call from my brother) turned into a grim race; my plane was on final approach to Canton-Akron Airport when she slipped away (I arrived at her bedside an hour after she had died). And yes, that was hard…the one time I wish I had not have listened to my mother.

Since I obviously wasn’t present during (what turned out to be) her last days, I asked my brother if she had any “final words”. At first, he chuckled a little through the tears, recounting that a day or two before, she had turned to him at one point and said “I wish I had some wisdom to impart. But I don’t.” I laughed (Jewish fatalism-it’s a cultural thing).

Then, he remembered something. The hospice room where my mother spent her last week had a picture window facing west, with a view of a field, a pond, a small stand of trees, and an occasional deer sighting. Two days before she was gone, my mother, my father, and my brothers were quietly enjoying this pastoral scene with the bonus of a lovely sunset. My mother broke the silence with just three words: “Trees are important.”

What did she mean? Indeed, trees are important. They are, in a literal sense, the lungs of the Earth. As a metaphor, I must consider the foundational significance that The Tree of Life holds in Judaism. Was she “imparting wisdom” after all? Had she, at the end of her journey, reached what Paddy Chayefsky once called a “cleansing moment of clarity”? It may not be quite as cinematic as, say…“Rosebud,” but it’s a kissin’ cousin to a Zen koan.

A year and-a-half later I was once again on a flight to Ohio in a race to beat the Reaper, hoping to make it to my father’s bedside before he slipped into the abyss. This time I “made it.” He couldn’t move but was still conscious. As I grabbed his hand and leaned in close so he could see me, his eyes noticeably brightened. He said one word: “hug.” I obliged. For the next 24 hours, he slipped in and out of consciousness (like my mother, he had requested “do not resuscitate”) and I was holding his hand when he passed away.

Frankly, having now experienced both scenarios (“just missing it” and getting there “just in time”), I cannot really say one is “better” than the other. It is never easy losing a parent. I suppose I can take solace in the fact that in each case, my mother and father were surrounded by family, and slipped away “peacefully” (whatever that means…at least it appeared to be a“peaceful” transition to me when my father took his last breath).

There are worse ways to go.

Don’t get hot
‘Cause man, you’ve got
Some high times ahead
Take it slow
And Daddy-o
You can live it up and die in bed

­ -from “Cool” (West Side Story), by Stephen Sondheim and Leonard Bernstein

It was inevitable that I would begin to ruminate about my parents, the importance of trees (and hugs) as I watched Ondi Timoner’s deeply moving documentary Last Flight Home. “I just want peace,” her bedridden 92-year-old father assures his family in the first reel, confirming a decision to end his life with medical assistance.

So begins the countdown of days, hours, and minutes remaining in Eli Timoner’s journey. In the hands of a less compassionate (or personally invested) filmmaker, this would seem a morbid, even macabre exercise…but it is one of the most life-affirming films that I have seen in years.

Speaking of trees, there’s a moment when Ondi’s sister (a rabbi) quotes from the Talmud: “May your saplings be like you.” Ondi says to her father, “You did all right with the ‘saplings’, don’t you think?” Her father quips, “Bunch of saps.” It’s those “laughter through the tears” moments that keep you engaged, despite the very heavy undercurrents.

Eli Timoner’s life was a roller-coaster of triumph and tragedy. A wildly successful entrepreneur and philanthropist (he founded Air Florida in the 1970s), he counted movers and shakers like Joe Biden among his friends.

Then, in 1982 (at age 53) he suffered a stroke that caused debilitating health issues for the remainder of his life. By 1984, Air Florida was in bankruptcy (the company had begun a downward slide following the 1982 crash of an Air Florida jet into the Potomac River in Washington D.C.). He lost millions.

The director doesn’t dwell too long on her father’s biography, but uses masterful intercutting of archival news stories, family home movies, and the task at hand to illustrate how it was the constants of Eli’s makeup as a human being…his compassion for others, unwavering love and devotion to family, and infectious joie de vivre that got him though thick and thin in both his professional and personal life (you get what you give).

In fact, the nonagenarian Eli is so sharp, so sound of mind, and surrounded by so much love and support it begs a question: Why end it? If the primary consideration is physical debilitation, how about (for sake of argument) someone like Stephen Hawking? His physiological life was far from a picnic; but what he was able to achieve and contribute to the world right up until the end of his life with just his sheer thinking power boggles the mind.

Of course, Timoner is under no obligation to make her film a polemic on aid-in-dying laws or a treatise of the ethics involved. Rather, her film is an act of love, of sharing something so intimate that at times you feel like you’re intruding on this family’s privacy. But as  she obviously made her film with full consent of all involved, there is nothing exploitative or sensationalist about its execution. As my mother said, “trees are important” and Last Flight Home left me with an assuring feeling that my loving parents did all right with the saplings.

Stick a fork in it: Top 10 foodie films

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on November 26, 2022)

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Big Night– I have repeatedly foisted this film on friends and relatives, because after all, it’s important to “…take a bite out of the ass of life!” (as one of the characters demonstrates with voracious aplomb). Two brothers, enterprising businessman Secondo (Stanley Tucci, who also co-wrote and co-directed) and his older sibling Primo (Tony Shalhoub), a gifted chef, open an Italian restaurant but quickly run into financial trouble.

Possible salvation arrives via a dubious proposal from a more successful competitor (played by a hammy Ian Holm). The fate of their business hinges on Primo’s ability to conjure up the ultimate feast. And what a meal he prepares-especially the timpano (you’d better have  pasta and ragu handy-or your appestat will be writing checks your duodenum will not be able to cash, if you know what I’m saying).

The wonderful cast includes Isabella Rossellini, Minnie Driver, Liev Schreiber, Allison Janney, Campbell Scott (who co-directed with Tucci), and look for Latin pop superstar Marc Anthony as the prep cook.

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Comfort and Joy– A quirky trifle from Scottish writer-director Bill Forsyth (Gregory’s Girl, Local Hero). An amiable Glasgow radio DJ (Bill Paterson) is dumped by his girlfriend on Christmas Eve, throwing him into existential crisis and causing him to take urgent inventory of his personal and professional life. Soon after lamenting to his GM that he yearns to produce something more “important” than his chirpy morning show, serendipity lands him a hot scoop-a brewing “war” between two rival ice-cream dairies.

The film is chockablock with Forsyth’s patented low-key anarchy, wry one-liners and subtle visual gags. As a former morning DJ, I can attest the scenes depicting “Dickie Bird” running his show are authentic (a rarity on the screen). One warning: it might take several days for you to purge that ice cream van’s loopy theme music out of your head.

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The Cook, the Thief, His Wife, and Her Lover– A gamey, visceral and perverse fable about food, as it relates to love, sex, violence, revenge, and Thatcherism from writer-director Peter Greenaway (who I like to call “the thinking person’s Ken Russell”).

Michael Gambon chews up the scenery as a vile and vituperative British underworld kingpin who holds nightly court at a gourmet eatery. When his bored trophy wife (Helen Mirren) becomes attracted to one of the regular diners, an unassuming bookish fellow (Alan Howard), the wheels are set in motion for a twisty tale, culminating in one of the most memorable scenes of “just desserts” ever served up on film (not for the squeamish).

The opulent set design and cinematographer Sacha Vierny’s extraordinary use of color lend the film a rich Jacobean texture. Richard Bohringer is “the cook”, and look for the late pub rocker Ian Dury as one of Gambon’s associates. It’s unique…if not for all tastes.

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Diner– This slice-of-life dramedy marked writer-director Barry Levinson’s debut in 1982, and remains his best. A group of 20-something pals converge for Christmas week in 1959 Baltimore. One is recently married, another is about to get hitched, and the rest playing the field and deciding what to do with their lives as they slog fitfully toward adulthood.

The most entertaining scenes are at the group’s favorite diner, where the comfort food of choice is French fries with gravy. Levinson has a knack for writing sharp dialog, and it’s the little details that make the difference; like a cranky appliance store customer who will settle for nothing less than a B&W Emerson (he refuses to upgrade to color TV because he saw Bonanza in color at a friend’s house, and thought “…the Ponderosa looked fake”).

This film was more influential than it gets credit for; Tarantino owes a debt, as do the creators of Seinfeld. It’s hard to believe that Kevin Bacon, Mickey Rourke, Ellen Barkin, Daniel Stern, Timothy Daly, Steve Guttenberg and Paul Reiser were all relative unknowns at the time!

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Eat Drink Man Woman– Or as I call it: “I Never Stir-Fried for My Father”. This was director Ang Lee’s follow-up to his surprise hit The Wedding Banquet (another good food flick). It’s a well-acted dramedy about traditional Chinese values clashing with the mores of modern society. An aging master chef (losing his sense of taste) fastidiously prepares an elaborate weekly meal which he requires his three adult, single daughters to attend. As the narrative unfolds, Lee subtly reveals something we’ve suspected all along: when it comes to family dysfunction, we are a world without borders.

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My Dinner with Andre– This one is a tough sell for the uninitiated. “An entire film that nearly all takes place at one restaurant table, with two self-absorbed New York intellectuals pontificating for the entire running time of the film-this is entertaining?!” Yes, it is. Director Louis Malle took a chance that pays off in spades. Although essentially a work of fiction, the two stars, theater director Andre Gregory and actor-playwright Wallace Shawn are playing themselves (they co-wrote the screenplay). A rumination on art, life, love, the universe and everything, the film is not so much about dinner, as a love letter to the lost art of erudite dinner conversation.

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Pulp Fiction– Although the universal popularity of this Quentin Tarantino opus is owed chiefly to its hyper-stylized mayhem and the iambic pentameter of its salty dialogue, I think it is underappreciated as a foodie film. The hell you say? Think about it.

The opening and closing scenes take place in a diner, with characters having lively discussions over heaping plates of food. In Mia and Vincent’s scene at the theme restaurant, the camera zooms to fetishistic close-ups of the “Douglas Sirk steak, and a vanilla coke.”. Mia offers Jules a sip of her 5 Dollar Milkshake.

Vincent and Jules ponder why the French refer to Big Macs as “Royales with cheese” and why the Dutch insist on drowning their French fries in mayonnaise. Jules voraciously hijacks the doomed Brett’s “Big Kahuna” burger, then precedes to wash it down with a sip of his “tasty beverage”. Pouty Fabienne pines wistfully for blueberry pancakes.

Even super-efficient Mr. Wolfe takes a couple seconds out of his precisely mapped schedule to reflect on the pleasures of a hot, fresh-brewed cup of coffee. And “Don’t you just love it when you come back from the bathroom and find your food waiting for you?”

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Tampopo– Self billed as “The first Japanese noodle western”, this 1987 entry from writer-director Juzo Itami is all that and more. Nobuko Niyamoto is superb as the title character, a widow who has inherited her late husband’s noodle house. Despite her dedication and effort to please customers, Tampopo struggles to keep the business afloat, until a deux ex machina arrives-a truck driver named Goro (Tsutomo Yamazaki).

After one taste, Goro pinpoints the problem-bland noodles. No worries-like the magnanimous stranger who blows into an old western town (think Shane), Goro takes Tampopo on as a personal project, mentoring her on the Zen of creating the perfect noodle bowl. A delight from start to finish, offering keen insight on the relationship between food, sex and love.

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The Trip– Pared down into feature film length from the BBC series of the same name, Michael Winterbottom’s film is essentially a highlight reel of that show-which is not to denigrate; as it is the most genuinely hilarious comedy I’ve seen in many a moon. The levity is due in no small part to Winterbottom’s two stars-Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon, basically playing themselves in this mashup of Sideways and My Dinner with Andre.

Coogan is asked by a British newspaper to take a “restaurant tour” of England’s bucolic Lake District, and review the eateries. He initially plans to take his girlfriend along, but since their relationship is going through a rocky period, he asks his pal, fellow actor Brydon, to accompany him.

This simple setup is an excuse to sit back and enjoy Coogan and Brydon’s brilliant comic riffing (much of it improvised) on everything from relationships to the “proper” way to do Michael Caine impressions. There’s some unexpected poignancy-but for the most part, it’s pure comedy gold. It was followed by three equally entertaining sequels, The Trip to Italy (2014), The Trip to Spain (2017), and The Trip to Greece (2020).

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Tom Jones– The film that made the late Albert Finney an international star, Tony Richardson’s 1963 romantic comedy-drama is based on the Henry Fielding novel about the eponymous character’s amorous exploits in 18th-Century England.

Tom (Finney) is raised as the bastard son of a prosperous squire. He is a bit on the rakish side, but wholly lovable and possesses a good heart. It’s the “lovable” part that gets him in trouble time and again, and fate and circumstance put young Tom on the road, where various duplicitous parties await to prey upon his naivety.

The film earns its spot on this list for a brief but iconic (and very tactile) eating scene involving Finney and the wonderful Joyce Redman (see below).

John Osborne adapted the Oscar-winning script; the film also won for Best Picture, Director, and Music Score (Finney was nominated for Best Actor).

Bon Appétit!

Of spacemen and sidemen: Moonage Daydream (***½) & Immediate Family (***)

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on November 19, 2022)

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Get out of my head…all of you.

– Thomas Jerome Newton in The Man Who Fell to Earth

When a great artist dies, it is not uncommon to default to the old standby that “(he or she) meant so much, to so many people.” Of David Bowie (who returned to the cosmos in 2016), it may be more accurate to say that “he was so many people, who meant so much.”

Bowie invented the idea of “re-invention”. It’s also possible that he invented a working time machine because he was always ahead of the curve (or leading the herd). He was the poster boy for “postmodern”. Space rock? Meet Major Tom. Glam rock? Meet Ziggy Stardust. Doom rock? Meet the Diamond Dog. Neo soul? Meet the Thin White Duke. Electronica? Ich bin ein Berliner. New Romantic? We all know Major Tom’s a junkie

Of his myriad personas, David Jones remains the most enigmatic; perhaps, as suggested in Brett Morgen’s trippy Moonage Daydream (now on Blu-ray), even to Bowie himself. More On the Road than on the records, Morgen’s kaleidoscopic thesis is framed as a globe-trotting odyssey of an artist in search of himself (think of it as the Koyaanisqatsi of rock docs).

A caveat for fans: this is anything but a traditional, linear biographical portrait. Nearly all the “narration” is by Bowie himself, via strategically assembled archival interview clips (like the Beatles Anthology). Don’t get me wrong, there is plenty of original Bowie music and scads of performance clips (the film was officially sanctioned by his estate, so I assume there were no licensing restrictions). The music is ever-present; just don’t expect it to be dissected and/or praised by the usual parade of musicologists and contemporaries.

While ardent fans (guilty) will recognize quite a few clips on loan from D.A. Pennebaker’s 1973 concert film, Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars: the Motion Picture (as well as other Bowie documentaries) there is some fascinating “new” footage here and there. A performance of “The Jean Genie” with Jeff Beck sitting in with the Spiders caught me by surprise (it was shot for Pennebaker’s 1973 film but had been omitted at Beck’s request). Beck and Mick Ronson are on fire, and it neatly closes the circle with the Yardbirds’ “I’m a Man” …the obvious inspiration for the song’s main riff.

The best way to describe the experience of watching this film is to quote “Thomas Jerome Newton”, the alien played by Bowie in Nicholas Roeg’s 1973 film version of Walter Tevis’ novel The Man to Fell to Earth (screenplay adapted by Paul Mayersberg):

Television. The strange thing about television is that it – doesn’t *tell* you everything. It *shows* you everything about life on Earth, but the true mysteries remain. Perhaps it’s in the nature of television. Just waves in space.

Morgen doesn’t tell you everything about Bowie’s life, he simply shows you. Even if David Jones’ “true mysteries” remain elusive as credits roll, the journey itself is quite absorbing and ultimately moving. And if you want to take the cosmic perspective, you, me and Moonage Daydream are all just waves in space…floating in a most peculiar way.

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There has been a proliferation of documentaries profiling legendary session musicians of the 1960s, 1970s, and beyond who helped create the “soundtrack of our lives” (Standing in the Shadows of Motown, Take Me to the River, Muscle Shoals, 20 Feet From Stardom, Hired Gun, etc.). One of the best of the batch is the 2008/2015 film The Wrecking Crew.

“The Wrecking Crew” was a moniker given to an aggregation of crack L.A. session players who in essence created the distinctive pop “sound” that defined classic Top 40 from the late 50s through the mid-70s. With several notable exceptions (Glen Campbell, Leon Russell and Mac “Dr. John” Rebennack) their names remain obscure to the general public, even if the music they helped forge is forever burned into our collective neurons.

The eponymous film was a labor of love in every sense of the word for first-time director Denny Tedesco, whose late father was the guitarist extraordinaire Tommy Tedesco, a premier member of the team.

Tedesco’s new documentary, Immediate Family can be viewed as a “sequel”, essentially picking up where The Wrecking Crew left off. While many of the musicians profiled in the former film continued to work through the ensuing years, a new crop of hired guns began to make a name for themselves. Tedesco focuses on four players: bassist Leland Sklar, guitarist Danny Kortchmar, guitarist Waddy Wachtel and drummer Russ Kunkel.

The names may not immediately ring a bell, but once you can associate faces with them, you’ll smack your forehead and say to yourself “Oh…that guy!” (especially Wachtel and Sklar, who sport quite distinctive hair and beard styles, respectively). Individually and collectively, the quartet has played in the studio and on the road with the likes of Carole King, James Taylor, Linda Ronstadt, Jackson Browne, David Crosby, Don Henley, Keith Richards, and Phil Collins (all of whom are on hand to offer their two cents in the film).

All four players have had fascinating journeys, and when you realize their collective studio sessions number in the thousands, it’s impressive. It’s also inspiring for those of us of a…certain age that they remain so vibrant and productive well into their 70s. Entertaining road stories abound; Wachtel has the best ones, he’s quite the raconteur. His anecdote about a night he and Linda Ronstadt hit a strip club had me rolling.

Other luminaries who show up include Lyle Lovett, Stevie Nicks and Neil Young, as well as producers Peter Asher, Lou Adler and Mike Post. The film does get a tad redundant with the praise, and I think the phrase “It was a magical time” has now officially worn out its welcome-or maybe I’ve seen too many music docs. Still, I had a good time hanging out in the studio with these folks, and I think the film should strike a chord with any true music fan.

Turn off your mind and empty your wallet: ‘Revolver’ Deluxe review (5-CD edition) ****

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on November 5, 2022)

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The Beatles were beside themselves with glee. Stoned – which they were most of the time in the studio – the experiments became part prank, part innovation. In that kind of dreamy, altered, impractical state, the possibilities were limitless. Recording became no longer just another way of putting out songs, but a new way of creating them.

 –from Bob Spitz’s 2005 biography The Beatles, regarding the sessions for Revolver 

On August 5, 1966, The Beatles released an LP that not only represents the pinnacle of their oeuvre, but remains one of the best pop albums of all time. Yes, as painful as it may be for some of us of “a certain age” to process, Revolver turned 56 years old this year (!).

It’s even more mind-blowing that Revolver arrived just 8 months after Rubber Soul, an album that in and of itself reflected a quantum leap in musical and lyrical sophistication for the band. And whereas Rubber Soul demonstrated an earnest embrace of eclecticism (incorporating everything from rock, pop, and R&B to country, folk, and chanson), Revolver ups the ante further. As Tim Riley nicely summates in his book, Tell Me Why:

Rubber Soul has a romantic astonishment, the echoing realization that teenage quandaries don’t dissipate with age; they dilate. Starker realities intrude on Revolver: embracing life also means accepting death.

That’s a heavy observation; but lest you begin contemplating opening your veins, keep in mind that while “Tomorrow Never Knows” suggests you surrender to the void, and “She Said, She Said” insists I know what it’s like to be dead…this is the same album that gifted us the loopy singalong of “Yellow Submarine” and upbeat pop of “Good Day Sunshine”.

Yet Revolver works as a whole; 14 cuts of pure pop nirvana, with no filler. As someone once astutely observed, “They were probably the most avant-garde group in Britain [in the 1960s], but also the most commercial.” Therein lies the genius of the Beatles; their ability to transcend that dichotomy with sheer talent and craftsmanship.

It is significant to note that when recording sessions for Revolver began in April of 1966, the Beatles were nearing the end of their touring days. It’s a logical  assumption that the less  time they spent touring, the more time they had to experiment and innovate in the studio. How quickly were they evolving? Consider this, from a 1966 UK newspaper article:

LONDON – They’re calling it the end of an era, the Beatles’ era.  […]  Last Sunday night, about 200 [fans] picketed the London home of Beatles manager Brian Epstein, demanding to see more of their idols. The foursome has not toured Britain this year and there are no plans for personal appearances […]  The obvious conclusion, supported by their words and actions in the past months, is that they are bored with being the Beatles. […]  With their success, they have gained a certain sophistication. Their last album, Revolver, was musically far ahead of their efforts at the height of their popularity and they are well aware of the fact.  “Songs like ‘Eight Days a Week’ and ‘She Loves You’ sound like right drags to me now,” John told an interviewer recently. “I turn the radio off if they’re on.” *

(*Source: Things We Said Today: Conversations with the Beatles, by Geoffrey and Vrnda Giuliano)

It’s very telling that Lennon distances himself from “Eight Days a Week” and relegates it to a bygone era, even though it was released just the year before (in February of 1965). You just don’t see that kind of accelerated artistic growth nowadays.

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At any rate, in celebration of Revolver handily pushing past the half-century mark with very little sign of aging, I thought it would be fun to revisit it, track-by-track, and see why it stands the test of time. In addition to giving a nod to the original UK 14-track sequence, I am prefacing with the double-sided 45 RPM release of “Paperback Writer” and “Rain” – as they were recorded during the same sessions and shore up this truly amazing song cycle.

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Paperback Writer – One of the classic riff songs (it may have “inspired” the suspiciously similar hook for the Monkees’ “Pleasant Valley Sunday”), featuring proto-metal guitar tone from George and a sonic Rickenbacker bass line from Paul (who also contributes  lead guitar). In a Ray Davies-styled turn, Paul assumes the character of a cynical pulp writer, drafting a letter of introduction that he hopes to be his entree to fame and fortune: Please Sir or Madam, will you read my book? It took me years to write, will you take a look? Later in the song, he synopsizes it as a dirty story of a dirty man…and his clinging wife doesn’t understand. He’s flexible: I can make it longer if you like the style. Listen for George and John’s “Frere Jacques” quote in the backing vocals.

Rain – This is a Lennon song all the way; and generally regarded as the birth of psychedelia (the latter by virtue of actual release date, as it was preceded in the sessions by the equally trippy “Tomorrow Never Knows” the week before). The tune’s signature backward tape-looping was a trick accidentally “discovered” by a stoned John, who put the reels on upside down while listening back to a demo at home. The harmony vocals are very “raga-rock”. It’s a great track, with excellent drumming by Ringo (who concurs, stating once in an interview “I think it’s the best out of all the records I’ve ever made.”).

Taxman – Back in the old days, before “shuffle play” (or “mix tapes”) were a thing, Side 1, Cut 1 held import; it really meant something. Sequencing an LP was a science; as that opening cut set the tone for the next 30 minutes of your life (slightly longer in the UK). This funky number, the first of 3 Harrison contributions to Revolver, is a perfect kickoff. It sports a catchy riff (I’m pretty sure Paul Weller had it stuck in his head when he wrote the Jam song “Start”), and a strident burst of lead guitar by Paul. This is the Beatles’ first foray into agitprop, with a stinging lyric that name checks politicians, and advises Inland Revenue to fuck off.

Eleanor Rigby – This is one of “those” songs that anyone who has ever sat down and attempted to compose a piece of music would gladly sell their soul to have written. Paul’s original working version was the sad tale of a “Miss Daisy Hawkins”, but eventually morphed into the sad tale of an “Eleanor” (after actress Eleanor Bron, who co-starred in the Beatles’ 1965 film, Help) “Rigby” (the name of a shop, according to Paul). It was a masterstroke to add the string backing (Paul’s idea, but producer George Martin’s arrangement), which makes this melancholic, yet hauntingly beautiful song even more so.

I’m Only Sleeping Lennon really ran with that backward looping thing during these sessions; the resultant “yawning” guitar effect gives this lovely, hypnotic number an appropriately “drowsy” vibe, lulling the listener into an agreeable alpha state for 3 minutes. My favorite take on the song is from Lennon’s BFF Pete Shotten, who observed that it  “…brilliantly evokes the state of chemically induced lethargy into which John had…drifted.” Ouch. If you want to hear an unapologetic lift, check out the song “Sweet Dreams” by The Knack.

Love You To – While George had already introduced Beatle fans to the exotic eastern twang of the sitar on Rubber Soul, he later insisted the 13-note run that defines  “Norwegian Wood” was “accidental” (he was ever the wry one). There is nothing “accidental” about the Indian influences on this proto-Worldbeat number, which features Anil Bhagwat on tabla, along with “session musicians”. Interestingly, George (sitar and vocals) is the sole Beatle on the track; if I’m not mistaken, the only precedent at that time was “Yesterday” (just Paul, and session players). Akin to “Taxman”, its couplets wax acerbic: There’s people standing round / who’ll screw you in the ground.

Here, There, and Everywhere – Paul has made it no secret that he was really taken by the Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds album, so much so that he developed an acute case of Brian Wilson Envy and lobbied his band mates to “go to 11” with Revolver to blow Wilson’s irksome masterpiece out of the water. Brian Wilson later said that Sgt. Pepper’s had a likewise effect on him! At any rate, this achingly beautiful ballad was allegedly Paul’s attempt to one-up “God Only Knows”.   

 Yellow Submarine – It’s a novelty tune. But as far as novelty tunes go, it’s a classic. This was Ringo’s “one song” for this album (OK, occasionally they would let him sing two, but not as a rule). While it has been interpreted by some to be about drugs, or war, Paul and Ringo insist it was designed to be exactly what it sounds like…a kid’s song (sometimes, a yellow submarine is just a yellow submarine). It sounds like they had fun making it, which apparently they did. George Martin says they “all had a giggle”. He even pitched in on the fade-out chorus, which included Patti Harrison and studio staffers.

She Said She Said –Another psychedelic gem by John, which was literally inspired by psychedelics, written in reference to an acid trip he took in 1965, while partying with The Byrds in L.A. (you know those space cowboys had the good shit). At any rate, the story goes that John got freaked out by Peter Fonda, who kept cornering him and whispering in his ear: “I know what it’s like to be dead.” Obviously, this unsettling mantra stuck with Lennon, who modified the final lyric, so that it became “she” said…I know what it’s like to be dead

(End of Side 1. I’ll give you a moment to flip the record over.)

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Good Day Sunshine – The kickoff to Side 2 is Paul in full cockeyed optimist mode. Everything about it is “happy”, from the lyrics (I feel good, in a special way / I’m in love and it’s a sunny day) and the bright harmonies, to George Martin’s jaunty ragtime piano solo. Paul has said that he was inspired by the Lovin’ Spoonful; and indeed the song does have that “Do You Believe in Magic?” / “Rain on the Roof” / “Daydream” kind of vibe to it. So lighten up!  

And Your Bird Can Sing – It’s always fascinating to me how artists view their own work, as opposed to fans’ perceptions. This song is a perfect example. In interviews over the years, John dismissed it as “Another horror.” (Hit Parader, 1972) and “Another of my throwaways.” (Playboy, 1980). But as far as I’m concerned, he was wrong. This easily places in my top 5 Beatles favorites; a perfect 2 minute slab of power pop goodness, replete with chiming open chords for the verses and Lennon’s patented chromatically descending bass lines on the bridge. And for a “throwaway”, its double-tracked harmony guitar parts sound pretty sophisticated to my ears (to this day, I can’t figure out those note runs). 

For No One – Another unmistakably “McCartney-esque” ballad; this one a melancholic lament about a relationship gone sour. It features one of Paul’s most beautiful melodies (this guy tosses them off in his sleep-it’s a genuine gift) and sophisticated lyrics. The narrative is the aural equivalent of a “split-screen” view, observing two ex-lovers as they go about their daily routines; one still pines, the other has moved on. Alan Civil’s transcendent horn solo rips your heart out. Lennon once named this as one of his favorite McCartney tunes.

Dr. Robert – Prince had “Dr. Michael”, Michael Jackson had “Dr. Conrad”, Elvis had “Dr. Nick”, but the (more often than not) dubiously titled “personal physician” is no stranger to show biz (or professional sports…or to the rich and famous in general). Back in the 1960s, NYC-based Dr. Charles Roberts became popular with Andy Warhol and the Factory crowd for his, shall we say, open-mindedness when it came to administering “medicine” (mostly in the form of injections; vitamins, speed and even LSD). This was John’s in-jokey homage.  

I Want to Tell You – This superb cut from George is one of his best tunes, with a memorable riff. A friend of mine who is more versed in music theory than I (I’m largely self-taught) has been kind enough to occasionally enlighten an old dog on some new scales and chord theory and such (it’s never too late to start). Recently, I asked him to deconstruct this particular song for me, because I’ve always wanted someone to explain  why that dissonant piano figure Paul pounds out at the end of each verse “works” so well. Naturally, it went in one ear and out the other, but it made sense to me at the time!

 Got to Get You into My Life –Paul’s Motown homage (and possible nod to the Northern Soul movement that flourished in the U.K. at that time) was also one of his most self-consciously “radio-friendly” compositions to date (witness its belated official release as a “single” in 1976, when it managed to climb up to #7 on the charts…six years after the Beatles disbanded). Of course, Paul’s little in-joke may be embedded in the lyrics, which he later confessed to be an ode to the joys of weed (a predilection that once landed him a night in a Japanese jail). At any rate, it’s a fab song, no matter how you interpret it, with a soul/R&B flavored horn chart (a Beatles first).

Tomorrow Never Knows – Just when you think the Fabs couldn’t possibly top the creative juggernaut of the previous 13 cuts, they save the best for last (sequentially, the first number they had worked on for these sessions, which lends the song cycle a poetic symmetry, especially considering the refrain: So play the game “Existence” to the end / Of the beginning…of the beginning…). In a 1980 Playboy interview, John explained, “That’s me in my ‘Tibetan Book of the Dead’ period. I took one of Ringo’s malapropisms as the title, to sort of take the edge off the heavy philosophical lyrics.” It’s heavy, all right-and doesn’t sound like anything in Western pop up to that time; truly innovative. It’s basically a drone in “C”, with John’s vocals recorded through a loudspeaker, which George Martin turned to the side of the studio microphone. This gave John the sound of a “Dalai Lama singing on a hilltop” (as he had requested). Backward tape loops add to the mesmerizing vibe, and Ringo lays down a thunderous, primal beat that drives the tune quite powerfully. Which brings us to the end. Of the beginning…

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“All in all, not a bad album” notes Paul McCartney (with possible tongue-in-cheek) in his forward to a 100-page book included with the new 5-CD Revolver Special Edition box set. Revolver is the latest album from the Beatles catalog to get the deluxe treatment (following Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, The White Album, Abbey Road, and Let it Be). 

OK, Boomer…here’s the deal. As with previous Beatles deluxe reissues, there are many editions of Revolver (which can be perplexing, even with a little help from your friend Mr. Google). Don’t fret, Beatle people…I’ve done the research and am here to assist. First, a note on the most important part-the music. All the editions feature new mixes by producer Giles Martin and Sam Okell, and are sourced directly from the original four-track master tapes.

A lot of us are budget-conscious right now, so I will begin with the most affordable option, and we’ll work our way up from there. If you just want Revolver classic, with the original 14-tracks and no frills, there’s the 1-CD Special Edition (includes a truncated booklet). If you prefer to kick it old school, there is the original 14-track vinyl LP Special Edition (picture disc). 

Upgrading slightly: The 29-track Deluxe 2-CD Special Edition features the 14-track album, a 2nd disc of bonus tracks that includes new stereo mixes of “Paperback Writer” and “Rain” (in addition to demos and studio outtakes), plus a 40-page booklet.

Moving into 3-digit territory: The Special Edition Super Deluxe 5CD (the one I went with) includes the new stereo and mono mixes of the original album (1-disc each), an EP replica CD of “Paperback Writer” and “Rain” (new stereo and mono mixes), 2 additional CDs with bonus tracks (demos, outtakes, alternate mixes, etc.) plus a lovely (hardbound) 100-page book.

If money is no object, there is a limited Special Edition Half-Speed 4 LP + 7″ Vinyl EP box set. And for those who simply must have it all, there is the 63-track Super Deluxe Special Edition, which essentially combines the 5-CD box with the 4 LP/7″ EP set (tossing in digital audio versions in stereo and hi res 96kHz/24-bit stereo + mono + Dolby Atmos for giggles).  

Oh, yeah …almost forgot. How do the new mixes sound? Let me put it this way…”Eleanor Rigby” literally had me in tears. Granted, not a happy song to begin with…but I have easily heard it close to 1,000 times, and I detected a new resonance in the strings, a warmth in McCartney’s vocal, an overall clarity and depth to the mix that is truly mind-blowing (the Beatles catalog is so embedded into my neurons that if there is even the slightest of variance in a song…be it but a brush on a string or an intake of breath, I’ll notice it). Ditto the entire album.  

Bottom line-if you’re a Beatle fan, just go for it, because…tomorrow never knows.

[Scary] Mask Required: 13 movies for Halloween!

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on October 29, 2022)

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(With apologies to Rod Serling for my frightfully tacky paraphrasing) Good evening, and welcome to a private showing of 13 films. Each is a collector’s item in its own way—not because of any special artistic quality, but because each captures on a celluloid canvas, streaming in time and space, a frozen moment of a nightmare. And …Happy Halloween!

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Beauty and the Beast (1946) – Out of myriad movie adaptations of Mme. Leprince de Beaumont’s fairy tale, Jean Cocteau’s 1946 version remains the most soulful and poetic. This probably had something to do with the fact that it was made by a director who literally had the soul of a poet (Cocteau’s day job, in case you didn’t know). The film is a triumph of production design, with inventive visuals (photographed by Henri Alekan).

Jean Marais is affecting as The Beast, paralyzed by unrequited passion for beautiful Belle (Josette Day). This version is a surreal fairy tale not necessarily made with the kids in mind (especially with all the psycho-sexual subtexts). The timeless moral of the original tale, however, is still simple enough for a child to grasp: It’s what’s inside that counts.

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Captain Kronos, Vampire Hunter – “What he doesn’t know about vampires wouldn’t even fill a flea’s codpiece!” This unusually droll Hammer entry from 1974 benefits from assured direction and a clever script by Brian Clemens (co-creator of The Avengers TV series). Captain Kronos (Horst Janson) and his stalwart consultant, Professor Hieronymus Grost (John Cater) assist a physician in investigating a mysterious malady befalling the residents of a sleepy hamlet…rapidly accelerating aging.

The professor suspects a youth-sucking vampire may be involved…and the game is afoot. Along the way, the Captain finds romance with the village babe, played by lovely Caroline Munro. The film was released at the tail end of Hammer’s classic period; possibly explaining why Clemens seems to be doing a parody of “a Hammer film”.

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Don’t Look Now – This is a difficult film to describe without risking spoilers, so I’ll be brief. Based on a Daphne du Maurier story, this haunting, one-of-a-kind 1974 psychological thriller from Nicholas Roeg (Walkabout, The Man Who Fell to Earth) stars Donald Sutherland and Julie Christie as a couple who are coming to grips with the tragic death of their little girl. Roeg slowly percolates an ever-creeping sense of impending doom, drenched in the Gothic atmosphere of Venice.

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Ed Wood – Director Tim Burton and his favorite leading man Johnny Depp have worked together on so many films over the last 20-odd years that they are surely joined at the hip by now. For my money, this affectionate 1994 biopic about the man who directed “the worst film of all time” remains their best collaboration. It’s also unique in Burton’s canon in that it is somewhat grounded in reality.

Depp gives a brilliant performance as Edward D. Wood, Jr., who unleashed the infamously inept yet 100% certified cult classic, Plan 9 from Outer Space on an unsuspecting movie-going public in the late 50s.

While there are lots of belly laughs, there’s no punching downward at Wood and his decidedly off-beat collaborators; in a way the film is a love letter to outsider film makers. Martin Landau steals his scenes with a droll, Oscar-winning turn as Bela Lugosi. Also with Bill Murray, Sarah Jessica Parker, Patricia Arquette and Jeffrey Jones.

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I Married a Witch– Clocking in at 77 minutes, Rene Clair’s breezy 1942 romantic fantasy packs in more wit, sophistication and fun than any ten modern “comedies” you’d care to name put together. I’ll tell you what else holds up pretty well after 80 years…Veronica Lake’s allure and pixie charm. Lake is a riot as a witch who re-materializes 300 years after putting a curse on all male descendants of a Puritan who sent her to the stake.

She and her equally mischievous father (Cecil Kellaway) wreak havoc on the most recent descendant (Fredric March), a politician considering a run for governor. Lake decides to muck up his relationship with his fiancé (Susan Hayward) by making him fall in love with his tormentor. All she needs to do is slip him a little love potion, but her plan fizzes after she accidentally ingests it herself. And yes, hilarity ensues.

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The Incredible Shrinking Man – Always remember, never mix your drinks. And, as we learn from Jack Arnold’s 1957 sci-fi classic, you should never mix radiation exposure with insecticide…because that will make you shrink, little by little, day by day. That’s what happens to Everyman Grant Williams (Scott Carey), much to the horror of his wife (Randy Stuart) and his stymied doctors.

Unique for its time in that it deals primarily with the emotional, rather than fantastical aspect of the hapless protagonist’s transformation. To be sure, the film has memorable set-pieces (particularly Grant’s chilling encounters with a spider and his own house cat), but there is more emphasis on how the dynamics of the couple’s relationship changes as Grant becomes more diminutive.  The denouement presages the existential finale of The Quiet Earth.

In the fullness of time, some have gleaned sociopolitical subtext in Richard Matheson’s screenplay; or at least a subtle thumb in the eye of 1950s conformity. Matheson adapted from his novel. He also wrote the popular I Am Legend (adapted for the screen as The Last Man on Earth , The Omega Man  and the eponymous 2007 film).

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The Mystery of the Wax Museum (1933) – “Images of wax that throbbed with human passion!” Get your mind out of the gutter…I’m merely quoting the purple prose that graced the original posters for this 1933 horror thriller, directed by the eclectic Michael Curtiz (Adventures of Robin Hood, The Sea Hawk, Yankee Doodle Dandy, Casablanca, Mildred Pierce, King Creole, et.al.).

Beautiful (and busy) Fay Wray (who starred in King Kong the same year) captures the eye of a disturbed wax sculptor (a hammy Lionel Atwill) for reasons that are ah…more “professional” than personal. Wray is great eye candy, but it is her co-star Glenda Farrell who steals the show as a wisecracking reporter (are there any other kind of reporters in 30s films?). Farrell’s comedy chops add just the right amount of levity to this genuinely creepy tale. A classic.

The Rocky Horror Picture Show – Speaking of Fay Wray…nearly 50 years of midnight showings have not diminished the cult status of Jim Sharman’s film adaptation of Richard O’Brien’s stage musical about a hapless young couple (Barry Bostwick and Susan Sarandon) who have the misfortune of stumbling into the lair of one Dr. Frank-N-Furter (Tim Curry) one dark and stormy night. O’Brien co-stars as the mad doctor’s hunchbacked assistant, Riff-Raff.

Much singing, dancing, cross-dressing, axe-murdering, cannibalism and hot sex ensues-with broad theatrical nods to everything from Metropolis, King Kong and Frankenstein to cheesy 1950s sci-fi, Bob Fosse musicals, 70s glam-rock and everything in between. Runs out of steam a bit in the third act, but the knockout musical numbers in the first hour or so makes it worth repeated viewings.

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Rosemary’s Baby“He has his father’s eyes!” Roman Polanski put the “goth” back in “gothic” in this devilish 1968 metropolitan horror classic.  A New York actor (John Cassavetes) and his young, socially phobic wife Rosemary (Mia Farrow) move into a somewhat dark and foreboding Manhattan apartment building (the famed Dakota, John Lennon’s final residence), hoping to start a family. A busybody neighbor (Ruth Gordon) quickly gloms onto Rosemary with an unhealthy zest (to Rosemary’s chagrin). Her nightmare is only beginning.

No axe murders, no gore, and barely a drop of blood…but thanks to Polanski’s impeccable craft, this will scare the bejesus out of you and continue to creep you out after credits roll. Polanski adapted the screenplay from Ira Levin’s novel.

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The Shout – This unsettling 1978 sleeper was adapted from a Robert Graves story by Michal Austin and its director, Jerzy Skolimowski. The late John Hurt is excellent as a mild-mannered avant-garde musician who lives in a sleepy English hamlet with his wife (Susannah York). When an enigmatic vagabond (Alan Bates) blows into town, their quiet country life begins to go…elsewhere. This is a genre-defying film; somewhere between psychological horror and culture clash drama. I’ll put it this way-if you like Peter Weir’s The Last Wave (which would make a great double-bill) this one is in your wheelhouse.

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Siesta –Music video director Mary Lambert’s 1987 feature film debut is a mystery, wrapped in a riddle inside an enigma. Ellen Barkin stars as an amnesiac who wakes up on a runway in Spain, dazed, bloodied and bruised. She spends the rest of the film putting the jagged pieces together, trying to figure out who she is and how she got herself into this discombobulating predicament (don’t let your attention wane!).

Reviews were mixed when the film came out, but I think it’s high on atmosphere and beautifully photographed by Bryan Loftus, who was the DP for another one of my favorite 80s sleepers, The Company of Wolves. Great soundtrack by Marcus Miller, and a fine supporting cast including Gabriel Byrne, Julian Sands, and Isabella Rossellini. The script is by Patricia Louisianna Knop, who would later produce and occasionally write for her (now ex) husband Zalman King’s Red Shoe Diaries cable series that aired in the ‘90s.

Unfortunately, the film is out-of-print and not streaming, but I found this UCLA Film & Television Preservation Archive forum from 2019 featuring director Lambert, Ellen Barkin and Jodie Foster discussing the film at a screening (caution: spoilers!). I hope that the mention of a restored print indicates a Blu-ray reissue is in the offing.

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Ugetsu Monogatari – Kenji Mizoguchi’s eerie 1953 ghost story/morality tale was adapted from several short stories by 18th-Century writer and poet Ueda Akinari.

The story is set in 16th-Century Japan, in the midst of one of the civil wars of the era. A potter of modest means and grandiose financial schemes (Masayuki Mori) and his n’er do well brother (Eitaro Ozawa) who fantasizes about becoming a renowned samurai warrior ignore the dire warnings of a local sage and allow their greed and ambition to take full hold, which leads to tragic consequences for their abandoned wives (Mitsuko Mito and Kinuyo Tanaka).

Beautifully acted; particularly strong performances by the three female leads (Mito, Tanaka, and the great Machiko Kyo as the sorceress Lady Wakasa). It’s a slow-burning tale, but if you just give it time the emotional wallop of the denouement will floor you.

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Young Frankenstein – Writer-director Mel Brooks’ 1974 film transgresses the limitations of the “spoof” genre to create something wholly original. Brooks goofs on elements from James Whale’s original 1931 version of Frankenstein, his 1935 sequel, Bride of Frankenstein, and Rowland V. Lee’s 1939 spinoff, Son of Frankenstein.

Gene Wilder heads a marvelous cast as Dr. Frederick Frankenstein (pronounced, “Franken-schteen”) the grandson of the “infamous” mad scientist who liked to play around with dead things. Despite his propensity for distancing himself from that legacy, a notice of inheritance precipitates a visit to the family estate in Transylvania, where the discovery of his grandfather’s “secret” laboratory awakens his dark side.

Wilder is quite funny (as always), but he plays it relatively straight, making a perfect foil for the comedic juggernaut of Madeline Khan, Marty Feldman, Peter Boyle, Cloris Leachman (“Blucher!”), Terri Garr and Kenneth Mars, who are all at the top of their game. The scene featuring a non-billed Gene Hackman (as an old blind hermit) is a classic.

This is also Brooks’ most technically accomplished film; the meticulous replication of Dr. Frankenstein’s laboratory (utilizing props from the 1931 original), Gerald Hirschfeld’s gorgeous B & W photography and Dale Hennesy’s production design all combine to create an effective (and affectionate) homage to the heyday of Universal monster movies.