Push the button, Marc

From the moment I joined the intarwebs commewnitty, I've been an easy mark (pun fully intended) for a good survey/questionnaire meme. And Dennis Cozzalio, proprietor of the excellent Sergio Leone and the Infield Fly Rule blog, has apparently joined forces with other correspondents in the service of legendary scoundrel Professor Fate for a heavy duty spring movie quizz. As that Professor demands satisfaction, I offer rejoinder in the paraphrased words of that other great mad Professor, Julius Sumner Miller: This, flicks, is my business!

1) William Demarest or Broderick Crawford?

Amist all the over-the-top insanity of IT'S A MAD, MAD, MAD, MAD, WORLD, one small moment of palpable hearbreak and audience sympathy occurs, and it's when William Demarest reluctantly proclaims, "Attention all units: arrest Captain Culpepper."

2) What movies improve when seen in a state of altered consciousness? (Patrick Robbins)

Well, I will admit that I was baked like Alaska when I watched last year's LAND OF THE LOST, and consequently gave it a three-star assessment.

3) Favorite studio or production company logo?

United Artists, post-Transamerica, 1981:


Many a night of falling asleep with the TV on was interrupted by this sneaky intro.

4) Celeste Holm or Joan Blondell?

"The cynicism you refer to, I acquired the day I discovered I was different from little boys!"

5) What is the most overrated "classic" film? (Tony Dayoub)

THE MATRIX. A movie that purports to take place in an environment where any and all things are possible, and the climactic battles are still fought with guns?

6) What movie do you know for sure you saw, but have no memory of seeing? (Patricia Yokoe Cozzalio)

Back in the glory days of pre-Fox network WXIX-19 in Cincinnati, there most have been dozens of afternoon movies that I watched with the faintest of attention. If I could summon up one, probably John Berry's CLAUDINE with Diahann Carroll and James Earl Jones; all I remember is the announcer's i.d. breaks during the broadcast.

7) Favorite Hammer Film?

KISS OF THE VAMPIRE

8) Gregory Itzin or Joe Pantoliano?

Gotta have pants. Joey Pants!

9) Create a double feature with two different movies with the same title. No remakes. (Peter Nellhaus)

How about a triple feature of Paul Morrissey's HEAT (1972) with Joe Dallesandro, Dick Richards' HEAT (1986) with Burt Reynolds, and Michael Mann's HEAT (1985) with DeNiro and Pacino.

10) Akiko Wakabayashi or Mie Hama? (Ray Young)

Umm...Abraham Lincoln?

11) Can you think of a (non-porn) movie that informed you of the existence of a sexual act you had not known of prior? (Bob Westal)

I think I recognized Troy McClure's paraphilia in such movies as STROKER BASS and EVERYBODY'S FIN.

12) Can you think of a black & white movie that might actually improve if it was in color? (Patrick Robbins)

I recall seeing some bizarre colorized footage from Bunuel's UN CHIEN ANDALOU that was in keeping with the already dadaesque visuals; I would enjoy seeing the whole thing done up in similarly off-the-sprockets fashion.

13) Favorite Pedro Almodovar Film?

ALL ABOUT MY MOTHER. The apex of his gift for comedy, tragedy, colorful women, troubled men, and a world that can be painful, but ultimately works for the better.

14) Kurt Raab or Udo Kier?

Who da man? Udo man!

15) Worst main title song (Peter Nellhaus)

While Eric Serra's instrumental theme for LA FEMME NIKITA is awesome, whoever suggested that he and Luc Besson should add English lyrics to it for the closing credits ("The Dark Side of Time") should be buried in Row 34, Plot 12.

16) Last movie you saw in a theater? On DVD, Blu-ray or other interesting location/format?

Theatre: Robert Flaxman and Daniel Goldman's 1976 documentary A LABOR OF LOVE;
DVD: Michael Winner's PARTING SHOTS
VHS: Harvey Hart's THE PYX.

17) Favorite movie reference within a Woody Allen movie? (Larry Aydlette)

The constant allusions to THE SORROW AND THE PITY in ANNIE HALL. Reminds me of how my longtime roommate and I were almost forcing everyone we knew to watch HOOP DREAMS.

18) Mary Astor or Claudette Colbert?

Ask Roy Orbison.

19) Favorite trailer (provide YouTube link if possible)?

Jean-Luc Godard's CONTEMPT (LE MEPRIS):


Possibly the greatest trailer ever made.

20) Oddest double bill you either saw or saw listed in a theater

There was that Harlan Ellison-curated New Beverly double feature of Kurosawa's STRAY DOG with Cimino's THUNDERBOLT AND LIGHTFOOT.

21) Favoite Phil Karlson film?

HORNETS' NEST. People are upset about one little girl wreaking mayhem in KICK-ASS? How about Rock Hudson teaching a whole village of orphans to kill?

22) Favorite “social problem” picture?

I suppose HOOP DREAMS, because it suggests without preaching that such problems, with steely determination, can be overcome.

23) Your favourite Harryhausen film/monster? (Ali Arikan)

My first striking Harryhausen memory is the snake woman from THE SEVENTH VOYAGE OF SINBAD, but I think I'd have to go with THE BEAST FROM 20,000 FATHOMS, because as Ray Bradbury put it, he was really just a poor brute who fell in love with a foghorn.

24) What was the first movie you saw with your significant other? (Patrick Robbins)

I've been unattached for far too long; thanks for reminding me, Prof. ;(

25) John Payne or Ronald Reagan?

Well...

26) Movie you feel a certain pressure or obligation to see that you have not yet actually seen

There are so many gaps in my classics it's shameful. But I think the two that keep haunting me the most are SINGIN' IN THE RAIN and THE TREASURE OF THE SIERRA MADRE.

27) Favorite “psychedelic” movie (Hey, man, like, define it however you want, man…)

It's not a good movie in any way, but I'm fond of Robert Freeman's THE TOUCHABLES as psychedelia, because it does feel like the crew mixed up the wrong chemicals during a Harold sketch and put the whole thing on film. And really, being in a big bubble house as the captive of hot '60's chicks is awful groovy, man.

28) Thelma Ritter or Eve Arden?

"Nothing has caused the human race so much trouble as intelligence."

29) Favorite iconic shot or image from a film?


Whether you believe like me that it is a grim reminder that when you leave a place of magic you can never return, or believe like others that it is a glimmer of hope, that solitary ringing in that lonely phone box at the end of LOCAL HERO gets me every time.

30) What is the movie that inspired the most memorable argument you ever had about a movie?

My longest relationship was marred when she insisted on turning off LOCAL HERO an hour in because she was bored. I did not take that appraisal very well. Not the primary reason that the relationship didn't work out, but it was a contributing factor.

31) Raquel Torres or Lupe Velez?


You know what? Lina Romay makes me happy.

32) Favorite adaptation of Shakespeare to a film?

Kenneth Branagh's HAMLET, the GONE WITH THE WIND of Shakespeare adaptations. It seems almost every previous film of HAMLET felt locked into the dialogue scenes, but Branagh understood that a movie can show anything it wants. So in a brilliant stroke, he presents every line of the play while depicting details barely hinted at - Hamlet and Ophelia in passionate privacy, Fortinbras plotting his return to the throne, the size of the armies, etc - and does it in gleaming bright 70mm. The staging of the "My thoughts be bloody" monologue manages to even upstage "To be or not to be" as the best speech in the play, and is as perfect an emotional harbinger and intermission marker as Scarlett O'Hara's "I shall never go hungry again!" What is arguably the greatest English-language play was long overdue for this epic film treatment.

33) Andy Warhol’s Frankenstein (in 3D)-- yes or no?

YES! It still galls me that I missed it in childhood and had to wait until my 30's to see it in all it's organ-hovering glory.

34) Favorite movie rating?

I stand with Strong Bad in my love of the ultra-rare triple-R rating.

Which reminds me, I know Don May at Synapse Films reads this blog, so hey man, why haven't you licensed WOMEN'S PENITENTIARY BAKESALE NIGHTMARE yet???


35) Olivia Barash or Joyce Hyser?

Any woman who can make herself so mannish as to inspire babydyke fantasies for two generations, and both bag and dump Warren Beatty, has got a gift. Joyce Hyser for the win.

36) What was the movie that convinced you your favorite movie genre was your favorite movie genre?

Probably that first time I saw IT'S A MAD MAD MAD MAD WORLD on CBS, New Year's Eve, with my parents. My childhood head recalls them saying how they'd seen it in New York City during their short sojourn living there before I was born. Watching them still laughing at it, and how many times I was laughing at it, convinced me that comedy was the greatest thing ever.

37) Favorite Blake Edwards movie?

THE PARTY.

"The ghosts didn't wait for me to sleep."

There has been much divided reaction to Martin Scorsese's film adaptation of SHUTTER ISLAND, especially among my valued correspondents. Sinamatic Salve-ation's Ariel Schudson praises its authentic recreation of the failure of post-WWII mental health treatment, while Phantom of Pulp's Mark Savage grew weary of what he felt was its overreliance on dream sequences. I will come back to his observations later on, because they inspired my desire to post this essay - not so much a retort but a reevaluation.

For those who have not yet seen the film, I highly recommend it. Though Scorsese's body of work does not openly belie a leaning to what is classified as horror cinema, horror films have always been an influence on his style. And on multiple occasions, he has cited his affection for the steady output of England's Hammer studio, which, alongside their iconic series of Dracula and Frankenstein tales, turned out a steady stream of what were called "mini-psychos": thrillers like PARANOIAC, NIGHTMARE, HYSTERIA, structured to provide the same gamesmanship and surprise of Hitchcock's 1960 masterpiece (though in actuality, most of the plots of these films share a closer kinship with Henri-Georges Cluzot's LES DIABOLIQUES, a film that had almost been directed by Hitchcock). SHUTTER ISLAND, on a primal level, captures that grand atmosphere of looming dread, distrust, and disconnection.

By now you have likely heard a lot of moaning that the "twists" of the film are easily predictable, especially if you were repeatedly exposed to the too-revelatory trailers. (I personally avoided them for months) Let's get something straight right now: Hitchcock, and his best imitators (Brian DePalma, Neil Jordan, David Mamet), have never made the "twist" the most important part of their story. This misconception was no doubt popularized, ironically, by Hitchcock himself, on his long-running "ALFRED HITCHCOCK PRESENTS" TV anthology series, almost every episode ending on a stinger. It is the aftermath of that twist upon the characters and the audience that they enjoy exploring, that is why in most cases, those surprises pop up in the middle of the film, not the end; you start the movie knowing less than the characters, and finish knowing more, wondering how this surprise is going to change them. Let's straighten another detail: if there was ever a filmmaker who is not only sure, but nay, hopes, that you've seen a bunch of movies and know the storytelling tropes, it's Scorsese. He knows you're smart and that you could solve the puzzle, heck he's counting on it. As such, yes, I figured it out early, but I was still engrossed in seeing how DiCaprio was going to figure it out. So regardless of how much you know or think you know about the plot, there will be plenty to entertain you.



In Mark Savage's negative review, I was caught by one of his statements: I prefer waking nightmares. It's a great sentence, and I'm in agreement with it. Now, on the immediate topic, I would argue that one man's dream sequence is another man's unreliable memory bank, so yes, while there plenty of moments where DiCaprio is not getting a proper night's sleep, he's not exactly spending his waking hours with a clear vision either. And it's not like Scorsese is lifting from Nick Reve's style book and gratuitously putting a dwarf into the scene; all the horrific and bizarre images do have a logical, if not quite linear, place in the resolution of the story. But Mark's statement tapped into something bigger that I had been contemplating after seeing the film, an earlier waking nightmare also captured by Scorsese...

And here there be large spoilers...



In 1999, lost among the crunch of outstanding movies released in the fall period alone (FIGHT CLUB, AMERICAN BEAUTY, THREE KINGS, THE INSIDER), was another story of an authority figure trying to do his job while distrusting his partners, surrounded by unstable strangers, wary of doctors, plagued by hallucinations, and carrying guilt for deaths in which he was directly involved, also based on a popular best-seller. BRINGING OUT THE DEAD was Scorsese's first project for Paramount, and more so than any of his other films is the perfect co-feature for the inevitable New Beverly Cinema revival, not just because it will be easy to get both movies from the same studio.
Now, guilt is as constant a presence in a Scorsese film as "See You Next Wednesday" is in a John Landis film. And SHUTTER ISLAND is not the first time Scorsese has paid homage to Hammer or dramatized the notion that the beast what scares us most is us: his terrific "AMAZING STORIES" episode "Mirror Mirror" has that distinction. But there is a unique parallel in the structure of BRINGING OUT THE DEAD and SHUTTER ISLAND that make them special, and both of them waking nightmares.

"Ever notice people who see shit are always crazy?"

Cage's Frank Pierce and DiCaprio's Teddy Daniels are good souls who have been battered by spending too much time in the trenches, figuratively and literally. Frank's reputation as a paramedic was so good he was called "Father" Frank, as if he had powers imbued from God; Teddy has WWII service and was present at the liberation of a concentration camp, so he is a de facto war hero. But they themselves do not believe themselves heroic; Frank because he was not quick enough on the scene to save a young girl from a sudden deadly asthma attack, Teddy even more so because he arrived at the camp too late to save Jewish prisoners from being killed by the Nazis, and in domestic life years later, arrived home too late to save his children from being killed by his own unstable wife. Frank is now only barely functional, given to reckless behavior on his night shifts (though compared to his three successive driving partners, he appears sane). Teddy has completely broken, killing his wife in anguish and in the midst of psychiatric committment, creating a fictional alter ego who can take the blame for all his failings so that he can believe himself still "good." Heck, they each even have their own hard-tack with a badge that's always hassling them, threatening either to take off their sunglasses or bite their eyes out. And that eye fixation in both movies is only slightly coincidental - both protagonists have seen too much to have any chance of normalcy anymore.

"Taking credit when things go right doesn't work the other way."

What contributes to the mental troubles of both men is, bizarrely, the establishment's willingness to forgive them, when they cannot forgive themselves. Frank's partners have their manner of staying detached from the pain of failing to save a life, and the doctors they deal with are practically numb, often turning patients away or coldly pronouncing death over the phone. Teddy has committed a capital crime, but everyone feels sympathy for him because to them, it's so clearly the result of witnessing unspeakable horror in war and at home, and are thus bent to "cure" him so that he can ostensibly start over again. There are selfish motives too - '80's Gotham is short of capable paramedics, '50's Boston would love to have one of their better mah-shalls back on the job - so if they can be kept working, the powers that be will benefit.

"The streets are not like the ER. There's no walls, no controls."

These damaged men, meanwhile, wander about in a damaged environment. Teddy is a literal inmate given run of the asylum, and even in his delusional cop state, he can see that his doctors' notions of how to cure mental problems is failing. Besides, when the most fundamental authority figure in one's life - the mother - cannot be trusted to protect life, it's not hard for Teddy to believe the doctors are betraying him either. Frank's asylum is the whole of Gotham, a topsy turvy place where prostitutes are indistinguishable from housewives, the same old drunk has to be taken to the hospital every night, and a father who should have died peacefully at home has been defibrillated back to vegetative life 12 times in one weekend. And each world offers the men convenient red herrings to assign blame to - Frank repeatedly sees OD cases from a new strain of heroin called, appropriately, "Red Death," while Teddy rattles off paranoid theories about mind control and human experiments - and while these dangers are real, no question, sadly for them, they're not the tidy solution to their troubles; it's larger and messier than that.

"Tell me that's a crazy person! Every move is calculated!"

Finally, both stories tease a non-tragic ending for their characters, but ultimately take an ambiguous detour. Teddy, fully briefed on the extended roleplay exercise the doctors have staged for him, is taken to be lobotomized while leaving his primary handler uncertain to whether he had failed to reconcile his divided psyche, or worse, was cured but chose to be lobotomized anyway to erase his guilt. Frank, on the surface, seems like he has survived his three-day work ordeal, but considering that he has taken his nascent God complex to the next level, by directly choosing who to save (Noel the homeless man, Cy the drug dealer) and who to let die (the comatose father), when he beds down to rest with the now-deceased father's daughter, who does not know he pulled the plug on him, one is also left to wonder if he also has chosen an extreme measure to purge his guilt.

"No one asked you to suffer. It was your idea."

Two outstanding waking nightmares, courtesy of one master filmmaker.