Shocktober Day 24: Videodrome

Videodrome (1983)

I remember the first time I watched Videodrome. I was excited about the prospect of seeing a film so crazy. Not unlike sleazy cable programmer Max Renn (James Woods) and his excitement for the latest lurid TV show. Then I actually watched the film and I was bored and confused. Now I’ve watched it again and was less bored but just as confused and didn’t realize this film was kind of misogynistic too, but damn if I don’t love watching James Woods pull a gun out of his stomach.

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Shocktober Day 23: White Dog

White Dog (1982)

One of the more potent topics in all of movies, and one in which I’m guessing the argument is pretty slanted in one direction is “is it ok to kill a dog in a movie?” The obvious answer is almost always “no”, because why on Earth would someone want to watch a dog die onscreen? They’re one of the most unabashedly affectionate creatures on Earth, even if some of them seem to misplace their ragged-eared enthusiasm in the form of ripped up newspapers and traumatized mailmen half the time. White Dog, however, aims to point the argument in the other direction, even as hard a task as that may be. Because, yes, dogs are great. But they also tend to reflect their masters, so what do you do when a dog becomes the walking embodiment of man’s worst instincts?

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Shocktober Day 22: Scanners

Scanners (1981)

Cameron Vale (Stephen Lack) is a homeless man barely keeping himself alive. He sneaks around a mall food court, stealing scraps from abandoned trays. When he takes a seat to eat his pitiful meal, he overhears a woman call him disgusting. In that instant, his attention shifts to her and she collapses in terrible pain. Cameron runs, sparing the woman’s life, but he’s pursued by trenchcoated goons. Just when it looks like he’s about to escape, he’s tranquilized. He is awakened by a scientist called Dr. Ruth (Patrick McGoohan) who explains to Cameron that he is a “scanner” a psychic with the powers of telepathy and telekinesis!

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Shocktober Day 21: Dressed to Kill

Dressed to Kill (1980)

I remember someone, I think it was Roger Ebert, patron saint of Mildly Pleased, discussing once the idea of star ratings. Specifically, this person was explaining that when critics rate a film, they rate it based solely on its potential. If The Accidental Tourist gets four stars and School of Rock gets four stars, it does not mean they are equally good, but they are both as good as Ebert could have imagined them being. I bring this up because Dressed to Kill is stylish and pulpy, and watching it was easier than Straw Dogs and certainly not an equivalent torment to Salò. But I would never recommend this movie to anyone.

Kate Miller (Angie Dickinson) is a sexually frustrated housewife who uses fantasies to get through being so romantically bored with her husband. One day, after discussing her situation with her therapist (Michael Caine), Kate goes to a museum and starts playing a game of cat and mouse, chasing and being chased by a man there. They leave together and she awakens that night satisfied and goes to leave a note, only to find out that the man had VD and never told her. Horrified, she hurries out of the building, only to remember at the last second that she left her wedding ring. So Kate gets back in the elevator and a blonde woman appears and slices her to death with a straight razor.

This start is the first of many obvious homages director Brian De Palma makes to Hitchcock’s Psycho (Hitch himself called it a “fromage”), to the point where it may be better to call Dressed to Kill a remake. After the murderer escapes, the story shifts its focus to the only witness: a prostitute named Liz (Nancy Allen). Liz picked up the murder weapon, so even though the detective in charge (Hill Street Blues/NYPD Blue detective guy Dennis Franz) doesn’t think she did it, he still says he’ll arrest her in a few days if they can’t find another lead. Bizarrely, she ends up teaming up with Kate’s genius son (Keith Gordon) to solve the case.

Spoilers:

It ends up being the case that the blonde woman is actually the therapist played by Michael Caine. The way Dressed to Kill explains it, being trans meant that she had both genders living inside of her, and her male side would not allow her to undergo a gender reassignment operation. So when she becomes aroused, her female side takes over and she murders the object of her attraction. That’s why she killed Kate, because her talking about being bored and horny turned her on too much.

/Spoilers

A lot of movies, maybe especially in the horror genre, punch down. People of color, the sexually promiscuous, the mentally ill, the awkward, and the weird are all common victims of the monsters that dominate this type of story. And I’m aware that, as a Psycho homage, Dressed to Kill was probably going this way. However, that character in Psycho is presented as a multiple personality, the fact that one is female doesn’t matter. Moreso, I worry movies like this, whether they intended to be transphobic or not, are dangerously normalizing of bigoted attitudes. This character probably wasn’t meant to stand in for all trans people, but that’s hardly an excuse for purposefully misunderstanding and misrepresenting. Plus, this movie isn’t particularly great to women or people of color either. In this case, Criterion, I think Dressed to Kill should have stayed in the dresser.

Shocktober Day 20: The Brood

The Brood (1979)

David Cronenberg is a director whom I’m not sure if I’ve decided whether I like or not. For one, that’s because other than today’s entry, the only film’s of his I’ve seen are Videodrome and The Fly, both of which were a while ago. But also, I think this is kind of the way Mr. Cronenberg would like to keep his audiences. He seems to always be keeping you at a distance, due to the often grotesque nature of his films, but also the way they can veer from somber human drama to gory freak-out, often within the same scene. Continue reading

Shocktober Day 19: Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom

Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom (1975)

Fuck all of this. What is this piece of shit? Why are people in this film, EATING SHIT? What kind of demented sadistic sex pervert wanted to make this film? Who was it made for? Why is it in the Criterion Collection? Why did I watch it? I’ve seen gross movies before, but never have I been this insulted. Salò of the 120 Days of Sodom pushes the limits of what’s acceptable. Maybe that’s the idea. I don’t care. I hate it. I’m open to dark movies, but it’s hard when it’s this drawn out. Not to mention Salò is guilty of the worst possible offense a film can be guilty. It’s boring. It’s so fucking boring. Bury me now, please!

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Shocktober Day 18: Sisters

Sisters (1973)

I wanted to write a De Palma review without too much reference to Hitchcock, but after watching Sisters again I don’t think that’s possible. Right from the get-go this film hits you with a healthy dose of Hitch in a visually striking opening credit sequence set to music by who else but Bernard Herrmann. Though instead of dynamic Saul Bass animation, it’s colorful photos of fetuses in utero. This is where De Palma sets himself apart. He’s far more explicit than Hitch ever was. Partly because he was younger, partly because it was later in time and partly because he’s one sick fuck… but in the best way.

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