The first time I read about Martin Bell’s 1984 film Streetwise was in the December 2009 issue of Seattle Metropolitan Magazine. The issue was dedicated to “75 Years of Seattle Movies,” and no film in that issue piqued my interest like Streetwisee. A gritty documentary about teens living on the streets of my city? But Seattle’s not a dangerous, hardened, urban jungle like New York, right? Right?!?
The Who? I love bands. I’ve loved The Who ever since they were the Hillbilly Bugger Boys. So why hadn’t I seen this movie before? Because I’m not a big fan of the album. I like Quadrophenia, but I don’t LIKE like Quadrophenia. It has my favorite Who track, “The Real Me,” but it also has one of my least favorite Who tracks, “Love, Reign o’er Me.” And you better believe that song makes its presence known throughout that album’s sprawling 81-minute runtime. But what about the movie?
Well here I am, once again reviewing the first part of a loosely-defined trilogy from a director synonymous with the ’70s. The Marriage of Maria Braun is the first in Rainer Werner Fassbinder’s “BRD Trilogy” which is also a Criterion box set that traces three films by Fassbinder about Germany’s post-war period seen through the eyes of a female protagonist. I have not seen the other two films in this trilogy (1981’s Lola and 1982’s Veronika Voss) nor have I seen any other Fassbinder films since Ali: Fear Eats The Soul, my first foray into the German New Wave director several Criterion Months ago. After seeing The Marriage of Maria Braun, I would say I’m still curious to check out more of his massive body of work, though I’m not sure to what extent exactly. Continue reading
I can’t believe John Huston, grizzled director of the iconic The Maltese Falcon and director of propaganda films to support the war effort during WWII, was not only still directing films in 1979, but films that were just as weird and compelling as anything being made by the twentysomething hippies and burnouts of New Hollywood. This is a man who worked with Humphrey Bogart, now filming a man stealing a shrunken mummy from a museum and a guy pounding his chest in a gorilla suit. What a career and what a film.
When you think of the term “70s paranoia thriller”, you probably think of director Alan J. Pakula, even if you’re someone like me who hasn’t actually seen a ton of Pakula movies. He’s so synonymous with this decade-specific subgenre that people often forget that he directed a pretty notable film outside this genre in Sophie’s Choice (or at least I do). He even kept directing movies of this variety when his sensibilities still didn’t quite mesh with modern thrillers, as was the case with The Pelican Brief, one of our somewhat recent Picks. Well, Klute was where it all started. It’s the first movie in Pakula’s “paranoia trilogy” along with The Parallax View and All The President’s Men, and it also set the tone for a decade where everyone (including the president) was recording each other’s conversations. Continue reading
The only HOTD I’m interested in this summer is Ebirah, Horror of the Deep! That wasn’t always the title to the seventh film in the Godzilla franchise, which is known in Japan as “Godzilla, Ebirah, Mothra: Big Duel in the South Seas.” But you might know it better as “Godzilla vs. the Sea Monster,” the American version of the movie from 1968. It’s that release that eventually became an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000, the only time Big Green got the MST3K treatment. Which makes sense, Godzilla fighting a giant lobster doesn’t sound as interesting as a three-headed dragon or a very large moth. But does this HOTD warrant a second look? Or is it just see-food?
Pale Flower is the rare film I picked for Criterion Month where I honestly can’t recall where or why the film came to my attention. But for whatever reason, it came onto my radar sometime in the past year and I’m glad it did. It’s a film that you’ll currently find on the “Japenese Noir” section of the Criterion Channel, which features many films I have not seen since the only Japanese film noir movies I can recall seeing are Akira Kurosawa’s High and Low and Seijun Suzuki’s Tokyo Drifter, the latter of which I feel like I mostly saw because it has an especially cool Criterion cover. Anyway, what I’ve learned from watching these three movies is that Japanese noir might be a bit more malleable than its American counterparts and that I should probably dive deeper into this genre to find out. Continue reading
