The Scarlet Hour (1956)

Director: Michael Curtiz

Cast: Carol Ohmart, Tom Tryon, Jody Lawrance, Elaine Stritch

Have I Seen it Before: Never.

Did I Like It: There are so many forgotten films noir (film noirs?) I’ve seen lately, where the plot is so simple that I think not only could I create a similar story, but I could do so without even trying all that hard.

Here, though, the story on display feels like it is actually three noir staples working in contrast with one another, and ultimately syncing up together to become one cohesive crime story. There is the plot about the “easy crime gone wrong,” where several wise guys of varying stature and skill are trying to pilfer valuable jewels from a well-to-do couple away on vacation. There’s the femme fatale trying to play her new beau off her domineering husband. Then there’s also the story of the put upon secretary who’s unrequited love for the corporate heir apparent forces her to go to the lengths of putting herself in the sights of a dragon lady and implicating herself in the larger criminal plot.

The tension created by the mashup of these disparate plots leaves the tension in a far more potent position than it might have otherwise been able to achieve. Just as I thought things were becoming predictable, one of the other subplots took the film in another direction. Maybe everything settles into a predictable framework by the time the film wraps up, but the journey to gether there was at least more enjoyable than it certainly could have been.

Another highlight of the film is the cast. Not so much the main characters, who are peopled by an array of forgettable journeymen performers who could have filled any number of archetypes in any number of other similar films. The supporting cast is the surprise strength, with E.G. Marshall bringing the gravitaas he brought throughout a long career to an early role, and Elaine Stritch emerging on the feature film screen fully formed as the Elaine Stritch persona.

The Exorcist III (1990)

Director: William Peter Blatty

Cast: George C. Scott, Ed Flanders, Jason Miller, Brad Dourif

Have I Seen it Before: Never. But I was oddly excited to get to this one, based on its reputation as fundamentally better than Exorcist II: The Heretic (1990) but, as it turned out, I’ve had recent dental work I’ve enjoyed more than that film, so that’s hardly conclusion. It also deals with the fate (for lack of a better term) of my favorite character from both the original film and novel, Damien Karras (Miller).

Did I Like It: I certainly wished I liked it more, with everything mentioned above. The problems pile up pretty quickly beyond the pitch, though. Scott lurches through the film alternately whispering and shouting at people with no apparent sense to which mode he is in at any given time, nearly to the point that I became concerned he did that for his entire career. There are a number of editing choices that feel like they may have been made with the editor under the impression that there was a bomb attached to the moviola. Also, for a film marginally about Damien Karras, I feel like the character as depicted here is somewhat divorced from the one we know from the film, and far more egregiously, depressingly underused.

But the real problem is that the film always reeks of studio interference. While “The Exorcist III” looks better on a poster, this movie isn’t about an Exorcist of any kind. The studio saw that and knew they could fix a problem they themselves created. John Carpenter was circling the director’s chair at one point, but realized his own ideas of interjecting an exorcism into this story was against the whole point, and certainly not what William Peter Blatty wanted. Cut to Blatty himself directing, and Warner Bros. becomes hell-bent on interjecting Nicol Williamson into the film. It deflates the whole third act, and leaves the entire film feeling inert at best.

And yet, I still want to read Legion… So at least there’s that.

*Maybe if that film had come with nitrous…

X2: X-Men United (2003)

Director: Bryan Singer

Cast: Patrick Stewart, Hugh Jackman, Ian McKellen, Alan Cumming

Have I Seen It Before: Ha. I’m oddly proud of the fact that I opted to go see this at the expense of going to my senior prom*. I remember so vividly that I went to the film with somebody who then worked with me at a grocery store. After the film, he declared that the film was a Christian parable, especially the scene where Bobby Drake/Iceman’s (Shawn Ashmore) parents won’t accept him and ask him if he had tried not being a mutant.

I didn’t quite have the heart to tell him what it was an obvious allegory for, especially as he seemed to like the film well enough.

Not a month goes by where I don’t think about the fact that that dude was technically my date for senior prom.

Did I Like It: Here’s the wild thing. If my moviegoing companion had focused on Nightcrawler’s (Cumming) story, he might have had a point. It can be a lot of things to a lot of different people, apparently, and never feel weighed down by everything its trying to do.

That doesn’t even cover the fact that every objective element is improved upon the original, a film that itself largely works. The action is more sure of itself, the scope of the story more epic, and the cast of characters embrace further corners of the source material that the original film seemed borderline ashamed of (even if it objectively just couldn’t afford to let its mutant flag fly).

Then there’s the fact that this is objectively one of the most apt homages to Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982) I’ve ever seen. Honestly. Play the last few minutes of both films side by side. They very nearly sync up.

*Yes, I’m aware I could go to both in a single day, or even a single weekend. The first time I saw Spider-Man (2002) was immediately after the junior prom, but I figured I would only re-create the portions of the evening that worked.

Ocean's Thirteen (2007)

Director: Steven Soderbergh

Cast: George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Matt Damon, Al Pacino

Have I Seen It Before: Oh, sure. Come to think of it, a bunch of college friends in that summer after we all graduated went to see it when we couldn’t get in for Transformers (2007). Even though we ended up with the better choice, I still felt the need to admonish the people lined up* who managed to get tickets before us for being too obsessed with robots that are also cars.

Did I Like It: Even though we ended up with the better choice, it’s hard to avoid viewing this as the weakest of the Ocean’s movies. I so admired Ocean’s Twelve (2004) for conscientiously avoiding the trappings of the sublime first movie in the series. But here we are now, back to creating mischief in a casino. The fact that they’re not trying to actually steal anything, and simply want to bring ruin to the most odious and powerful casino magnate in Nevada (Pacino, who we’ve apparently never heard of before in two previous films) doesn’t change enough to make this demonstrably feel like a re-tread.

The cast has also reached critical mass, which always seemed inevitable. Julia Roberts and Catherine Zeta-Jones disappear under cover a few quick lines of dialogue, as if their importance to the proceedings in the last two films was a mirage this whole time.

Now, that is a lot of complaining for a film that—for being the weakest entry in a trilogy—might very well be the best weakest entry of a trilogy ever made. The style is there. The fun is there. The misdirection is there. Asking for more might be a little greedy.

*God, it’s been so long since I’ve had to stand in line at a multiplex. I don’t miss it.

Ocean's Twelve (2004)

Director: Steven Soderbergh

Cast: George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Matt Damon, Catherine Zeta-Jones

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, sure. There was probably a minute there right after W. won re-election that this was the big thing I was looking forward to in life.

Did I Like It: The fundamental truth is that your mileage with film is going to be directly related to how much you can tolerate a third act that largely hinges on Julia Roberts playing someone who is trying to impersonate Julia Roberts. I’m not going to say it will depend on whether you like that plot development, because if you’re reading this review, you’re a reasonable person and that plot element isn’t going to work for you.

Now, if you can get over the film’s one, glaring flaw, it might very well be the superlative entry in the series. The plot—when it isn’t descending (and admitting it is doing so) into b-minus sitcom territory—surprises. The mise-en-scéne is also frequently a delightful surprise. Everyone would have accepted or at least forgiven if this sequel was just a cynical re-hash of Ocean’s Eleven (2001) (don’t worry, we’ll get there) but this plays out like a holiday tentpole movie that has all the trappings of a light foreign film that most of the audience would never see in the first place.

This is not to say that all of what worked in the first film is abandoned. The chemistry among the thieves and between Pitt and Zeta-Jones and Clooney and Roberts all crackles, and the old-fashioned movie-star cool exuded here is never not a pleasure to watch. Just as the way Clooney orders a double whiskey in the first film lives in my head rent free for the rest of time, so too have I never seen a movie star live so comfortably in his own skin than Clooney does in his final confrontation with Toulour (Vincent Cassel). Every time I see that scene, I am convinced that if I could ever be as comfortable as that man is at that moment, all the problems of my life would simply drift away. It was apparently filmed at Clooney’s own villa, so he very nearly wet method with feeling right at home in his surroundings.

If only they didn’t have to have the whole Julia Roberts is Julia Roberts thing, it might have gone down as one of the all-time greats.

Exorcist II: The Heretic (1977)

Director: John Boorman

Cast: Linda Blair, Richard Burton, Louise Fletcher, Max von Sydow

Have I Seen it Before: Never.

Did I Like It: And why did I see it now? This is the truly unfortunate reality of the current streaming age. I watched the theatrical cut of The Exorcist (1973) on Max, and then saw that the sequel was right there waiting for me. I had never seen it, already paid for it, and wanted to keep the good feelings going. I was somewhat aware of the film’s reputation, but it couldn’t have been that bad. Right?

Right?!

Well, let me tell you.

Far be it for me to overly rely on comparisons to Star Trek films, but the comparison just bowls me over here. Sometimes, you bring in a director for a sequel that is detached from what came before who found things he genuinely liked about the series, like Nicholas Meyer in Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982), and things work out great. Sometimes you bring in a similar director who couldn’t be bothered to give one shit about the source material, like Stuart Baird in Star Trek: Nemesis (2002), and things wind up disappointing, at best.

Here, Boorman had gone on record hating the film so much that he even tried to convince Warner Bros. not to make it or release it. The contempt not only plays, but permeates the entire movie. What we’re offered is a hodgepodge of weak characters (including those returning), glacial pacing, terrible special effects*, all head together by the weak glue of new age junk of the worst sort.

Avoid the film at all costs. Also, why the hell is it called The Heretic?

*After this and Jurassic World Dominion (2022), we should really make a rule that the instant movie sequels bring locusts into the proceedings, the whole film ought to be re-considered.

The Exorcist (1973)

Director: William Friedkin

Cast: Ellen Burstyn, Max von Sydow, Jason Miller, Linda Blair

Have I Seen It Before: Oh, sure. My most memorable screening is when I managed to convince someone who at that time was simultaneously a devout Christian and deathly afraid of demonic possession to watch it with me. Truly, the spirit of Pazusu was working through me.

Did I Like It: As we prepared to remedy a glaring blind spot in the canon of Beyond the Cabin in the Woods, I decided to deep dive into the world of Lankester Merrin (von Sydow, for whom the old age make up may look fake at times but is a pretty decent approximation of the man he would become in his later years) and pals. I really enjoyed William Peter Blatty’s original novel, and especially Damien Karras (Miller) as a character, and unfortunately you might soon be subjected to my thoughts about the various Exorcist sequels (except for Exorcist: The Beginning (2004), because even I have my limits*).

And the act of going through the same story in the movie is fine. It hits all the right beats and manages to shake off some of the fat in the original story, but there is something missing in the translation. Such is life when comparing movies to their source material.

Where the movie succeeds wildly (and specifically either the unwieldly “Version You’ve Never Seen Before” or the Extended Director’s Cut) is in its ability to subtly unnerve. One might be able to find the occasional splicing in of Captain Howdy to be a bit of a parlor trick, but for me it is the best kind of cinematic horror. It’s the kind of thing that Murnau excelled at, around which The Blair Witch Project (1999) built an entire movie, and Muschietti occasionally tripped over in IT - Chapter One (2017), where you’re not entirely sure what you’re looking at sometimes, and it seems to live within the shadows which were the stuff out of which the earliest photography was made. That’s simple enough, but then you find yourself thinking about it that evening, and looking at the darkness in the distance as you’re feeding the cat, and before you know it, the movie has stuck in your mind.

*Although I’m not weirdly fascinated by it now. How do you make an early-oughts horror movie (with all of the requisite Matthew Lillard-ness that might entail) with these characters that a studio would feel comfortable releasing? The mind boggles, but that’s probably a discussion for a whole other review.

The Goose Woman (1925)

Director: Clarence Brown

Cast: Louise Dresser, Jack Pickford, Constance Bennett, George Cooper

Have I Seen It Before: Never. The great value of seeing a silent film in a theater (with an organ accompaniment, no less) is that for a few stray moments (read: those moments where someone’s cell phone isn’t going off), the vulgarities of the 21st century melt away… Usually to give way to the vulgarities of the 20th. When you keep getting text messages throughout the movie from Home Depot informing you of the status of your toilet delivery, you never really had much of a chance.

Did I Like It: In previous reviews of silent films, I’ve generally come to the conclusion that some genres still hold up, while some don’t. Comedies? Very nearly always. Science Fiction? The charm is there, sure. Dramas? Almost never. A drama from 100 years ago is either wholly depressing—the abject poor will never get over their lot in life—or groanworthy—the obscenely rich dwell on their inadequacies while they wait for the stock crash to take them away. Horror? If you’re in the business of playing with shadows, there’s still plenty of dread to wring out of a modern audience. Western? Assuming anyone bothered to preserve the film and keep it from being just a bright white splotch with the occasional intruding shadows, then perhaps, but I’ve yet to see any evidence of it.

Now we bring ourselves to the mystery, and I’m just not seeing the appeal. Forget for a moment that this is really a drama of both the worst kinds, the question of just who killed the theater owner is painfully obvious, right up until the very end when it turns out someone about whom we never even bothered to think turned out to do it.

Maybe I’m one of the last people still holding on to the virtues of the silent movie, but even I have my limits.

9 to 5 (1980)

Director: Colin Higgins

Cast: Jane Fonda, Lily Tomlin, Dolly Parton, Dabney Coleman

Have I Seen It Before: Never. One would be forgiven (or may be apt to forgive me) for thinking that a movie probably release to be counter-programming for a Christmas re-release of <Star Wars – Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back (1980)>, but I’m not sure if I ought to be forgiven for only coming around to the film after the theme became was pretty delightfully grafted on to <Deadpool 2 (2018)>.

Did I Like It: There are two films struggling for supremacy here, and unfortunately, I think that the wrong movie won the battle over the larger landscape of the movies. At its core, this is a sitcom plot that at about the midway point realizes it is a sitcom plot and comes to the conclusion that the only way to get out of the proceedings with its dignity (is that the right word?) intact is to hope people aren’t paying attention, and get out of their increasingly dubious plot by ratcheting  up the fundamental sitcomy-ness to a level that a sitcom writer (even one of that era) would term the whole affair “a bit much.”

That’s the movie that keeps getting made over and over again. That’s kind of a bummer.

The movie that everyone should have been trying to re-create is just Dolly Parton. We now know her as the greatest philanthropist this side of Bruce Wayne, and apparently she’s notably sung some music, but the fact that we never really gave Parton a chance as a film star. Sure, she had The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas (1982) but then Rhinestone (1984) came around, and everybody forgot to blame Stallone for that film’s problems. Here, she is so guileless and likable, by all accounts she should have had the career of Sly, Burt, Fonda, and Tomlin all put together. I’m sure she’s not bothered by the fact that she could have meant more to the movies, but we are poorer for it.

Babylon (2022)

Director: Damien Chazzelle

Cast: Brad Pitt, Margot Robbie, Diego Calva, Jean Smart

Have I Seen It Before: Well…

Did I Like It: Let me put it like this. Imagine I am the head of development at Paramount*.

Damien Chazzelle enters.

ME: So, what do you got?

DC: I want to remake Singin’ in the Rain (1952).

ME: Interesting… Interesting. Like, with the songs and the whole thing?

DC: No.

ME: I see…

DC: The film will open with an elephant shitting all over as many characters as possible.

ME: An ele—?

DC: Also, Jean Hagen’s character will die off screen, although its heavily implied that gangsters mutilated her with acid…

ME: All because she couldn’t hack it in the talkies?

DC: Well, see, she gambles too much…

ME: Okay…

DC: Also she throws up in William Randolph Hearst’s face.

ME: In?

DC: Yes, in.

ME: This is because of the elephant?

DC: They’re unrelated. Actually, the Hearst thing has nothing to do with her death, either. I just always wanted to watch someone barf on Hearst. (beat) Although I would imagine if she could have made it in the talkies, the studios would have paid the gangsters off with something other than prop money.

ME: Okay. Interesting.

DC: Also the Gene Kelley character shoots himself in the head at the end of the movie.

ME: Because of the acid?

DC: Unrelated.

ME: The thing with Hearst and the vomit?

DC: Unrelated.

ME: …the elephant?

DC: Listen, I’m going to make your life a lot easier and faster by saying that almost every element of the movie is essentially unrelated to any other element.

ME: Uh-huh. What happens to Donald O’Connor or Debbie Reynolds?

DC: Who?

ME: Never mind. (beat) Who the hell are you going to get to be in this movie?

DC: Brad Pitt and Margot Robbie…

ME: Oh. (thinking) Well, I’d watch that.

(This wasn’t even a negative review, really…)

*Which would still not let me wave my hand and release Batgirl. Somehow, even in my most power-mad fantasies, I’m still stymied.

Vampires (1998)

Director: John Carpenter

Cast: James Woods, Daniel Baldwin, Sheryl Lee, Thomas Ian Griffith

Have I Seen it Before: Never.

Did I Like It: And I’m not as frustrated with myself on that one, as I have been with my other blind spots in the Carpenter canon.

I’m never more struck by the idea of the alternative utopia than I am when watching movies. We think Star Wars - Episode IX: The Rise of Skywalker (2019) would have been better if Colin Trevorrow had been allowed to make his version, but he also made Jurassic World: Dominion (2022), so it’s not like if his version of that other film came together, it wouldn’t be riddled with flaws, too. If Tim Burton had made a third Batman film, it would have been far superior to Batman Forever (1995), but I also have the suspicion that he would have tired of the series, been hamstrung by the studio, or both. I’m also tempted to think that Halloween H20 (1998) would have been much better if Carpenter had been involved, but his track record in the 90s was so thoroughly spotty, and with a climax that, we might be better off imagining Carpenter fixing every horror movie we thought went wrong than actually getting to see the movie.

This is all to say, I’m not really enjoying the film, and it only partially has to do with the fact that I can’t stand to look at James Woods for longer than a few minutes, anyway. Here, he’s offering the worst kind of self-conscious, affected performance. It’s no wonder that his greatest work has been as supporting heavies in other films. It’s also no wonder that he can’t get arrested anymore, but that’s another story all together. The best performance in the whole film is Daniel Baldwin, and that’s only because he takes a lighter to his arm in such a way that I’m left with the only conclusion that he felt every flick of that flame.

The movie is filled to the brim with too much meaningless exposition, and far too many bad special effects to have any hope to truly enjoy it. It’s a shame so many of Carpenters films in the 80s were great but under appreciated, marching through his 90s films is watching him become disenchanted with filmmaking all together.

At this point I almost don’t want to watch Ghosts of Mars (2001). I may not like any Carpenter movies after that… No, that’s crazy. I’ll always have The Thing (1982), Assault on Precinct 13 (1976), and of course, Halloween (1978).

Rosemary’s Baby (1968)

Director: Roman Polanski

Cast: Mia Farrow, John Cassavetes, Ruth Gordon, Sidney Blackmer,

Have I Seen it Before: Yes? I really do want to say that I caught it on some TCM screening over the years, but everything about it aside from the haunting lullaby at the beginning and flashes of the ending had slipped from my memory. Is it possible I had only seen clips? I’d like to think not.

Did I Like It: Nothing like Mia Farrow showing up in a film to make one wonder if I shouldn’t be supporting this kind of thing. The soon-to-be-recorded episode of Beyond the Cabin in the Woods will likely focus at least some of its time on whether it is possible to enjoy art separated from the artist. It may be impossible to ethically completely divorce the art from the artist, but it might be possible to be fascinated by the art.

Honestly, I’m not detecting a lot of Polanski in the film itself. Hell (no pun intended), with William Castle producing, I’m surprised movie theaters in the 60s weren’t rigged to make you think you were having a liaison with the devil while the movie played. Having read Ira Levin’s novel before viewing the film as part of my podcast prep, this is more an act of transcription than adaptation. Aside from the protracted debate in the opening chapters about which apartment the Woodhouse’s would choose*, and just how many siblings Rosemary (Farrow) has and just how estranged she is from them, nearly every word of the original text is here.

Which is great, because when the film isn’t being genuinely terrifying during the final revelation and impregnation scene, it’s a deeply unsettling march through alternating paranoia and true sinister actions that should be detected, if we in fact were aware that we were in a horror story.

I might have a few quibbles with the casting. Farrow is fine, if a little too restrained (it’s both a flaw of the novel and film that it doesn’t earn Rosemary’s acceptance of what has happened to her) for what is going on around her. I also didn’t see Cassavetes as Guy when I was reading. He seemed so restrained in the book, that I honestly started to imagine John Cazale as the character. Book Guy is so aloof, that the leading man quality of Cassavetes feels wrong. Although, to be fair, it’s hard to get any indication that he’s ever been honest with that kind of discordance going on.

*Real estate decisions are, in fact, the least interesting elements of any story. I will not be taking questions at this time.

What We Do In The Shadows (2014)

Director: Jermaine Clement, Taika Waititi

Cast: Taika Waititi, Jermaine Clement, Jonathan Brugh, Cori Conzalez-Macuer

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, sure. I have yet to re-watch it since the sublime television show started. So many fans of the movie have completely dismissed the television show, that I worried re-visiting it wouldn’t hold the same charms.

Did I Like It: And it does hold the same charm—if not the surprising anarchy—of that original viewing. Clement and Waititi create a comedy that would pass—if it weren’t fictional, naturally—as a pretty good documentary in its own right. They create comic personas here that will serve them infinitely well in subsequent productions.

The plot is relatively similar to at least the set up for the movie, that there is a degree of repitition. To the television show’s credit, it took those seeds and began to form likely my favorite live-action comedy series currently on the air. So, there is, I hate to say, just a slightly smaller amount of enjoyment with the film this time around. It isn’t the film’s fault; it’s more a statement that the television series may have a chance at being the first adaptation of its kind to surpass its cinematic progenitor since M*A*S*H*.*

Does that mean you should avoid watching the movie in favor of the television series? No, of course not. I think comparing any film to Robert Altman’s M*A*S*H*** (1970) is probably a pretty sterling endorsement.

*One more asterisk there is, in fact, not a typo. I’m not sure I would die on the hill of the fact that the television M*A*S*H* is better than the film. Just more indelible in the cultural consciousness.

**The asterisks are all over the place in this review. But when I realized the word-count in my word processing app counts the titles as four words instead of one, I kind of couldn’t help myself. Whatever will I do when I eventually do, review that movie, instead of this one?

Yojimbo (1961)

Director: Akira Kurosawa

Cast: Toshiro Mifune, Tatsuya Nakadai, Yoko Tsukasa, Isuzu Yamada

Have I Seen it Before: Never, but like the siren call of whatever makes sirens call (wouldn’t we want to call it a mermaid call, if that’s what we mean?), if a movie is projected in 35mm, I’ll be there. Thankfully, I’ve managed to fill this year with more 35mm screenings than in any year in recent memory.

Did I Like It: Samurai movies are from a foundational genre in my movie watching life. I think, after a screening of Seven Samurai (1954) that just never quite connected with me (yes, I know I need to give it another shot; it’s on the list) that the entire canon never really felt like a priority.

What a shame too, because so many things I admire about more recent films owe their influence directly to Kurosawa, and this film is no exception. It has the clean, ruthless efficiency of an early Carpenter film. It has the undercurrent of somewhat demented humor that made the films of Richard Donner or Joe Dante* so great. It harnesses the same scope of strong, silent heroes set against colorful characters of all stripes that were these films not to exist, Clint Eastwood would have remained a bit player in late-age Universal monster movies, and George Lucas’ work would have just descended into senseless optical fireworks**.

I liked it so much that I want to see it again as soon as possible (35mm or no), want to track down both Last Man Standing (1996)—and American remake from Walter Hill—and the film’s sequel Sanjuro (1962). Seven Samurai moves to the top of the to-watch list as well…

*One might argue that Dante owes more to James Whale, but I’d distrust anyone that says that there isn’t at least a bit of Kurosawa there.

**It might have eventually done just that, but there is certainly plenty of Kuwabatake Sanjuro (Mifune) in even later characters like Qui-Gon Jinn and Din Djarin. Mifune was even Lucas’ first choice for Obi-Wan Kenobi in Star Wars - Episode IV: A New Hope (1977), but the sword master begged off thinking that the whole affair would make light of his previous work.

Planet of the Apes (2001)

Director: Tim Burton

Cast: Mark Wahlberg, Tim Roth, Helena Bonham Carter, Michael Clarke Duncan

Have I Seen It Before: Yes. For the life of me, I can’t remember if I saw it in theaters, but I’m almost certain I would have. I do remember that the DVD had a diagram that tried to make sense out of the time warp-y qualities of the plot… And you can imagine how helpful it might have been.

Did I Like It: I’ve always thought of the film as an extremely average exercise, punctuated by an unnervingly confusing ending.

Twenty-plus years later, and nothing has really changed. If there’s a movie where it was more clear that Burton showed up to call “action!” and “cut!” for the money alone, then it would probably be <Batman (1989)>. That’s a lie. At least Batman had some clowns in it and a sense of art and the artistic.

I can’t help but think of what this film could have been during the many years it spent languishing in development hell. For a minute, there was a version in the 90s starring Schwarzenegger and directed by Cameron. If that doesn’t make you feel like you were robbed, then I really don’t know what to do with you.

It’s not as if there is nothing of value in the movie. It sports one of the last great (yes, I did say that) Danny Elfman scores. Also, while the apes makeup is a quantum leap forward from the days of Roddy McDowall*, the individual ape performances—especially from Roth, Bonham Carter, and Paul Giamatti—allow for a lot more ape-like behavior out of the characters than before.

If only they had inhabited a story worth watching, or for that mater, worth understanding. The deck was stacked against the film as it felt the need to match the awe-inspiring quality of <the original’s> conclusion. I can’t imagine that this was what anyone—filmmaker or viewer alike—wanted. Even now, years later, I try to make sense of just what is happening in this film’s final minutes. There are a few seconds where I almost get there, and then it slips away. And if the film which preceded it, I might feel the need to keep trying to work it ll out.

*As I wrap up my reviews of the Apes films, I realize I may be afforded relatively few opportunities to refer back to Roddy MacDowall, which always lends itself to this strangely foundational memory. My parents insisted McDowall was the voice of C-3PO in the Star Wars films. I was correct in my insistence that it was in fact Anthony Daniels who played the robot. I even showed them the end credits of one of the movies on VHS. They still insist that Roddy McDowall was in Star Wars, and by that logic was still appearing in Star Wars films several decades after his death.

Battle for the Planet of the Apes (1973)

Director: J. Lee Thompson

Cast: Roddy McDowall, Claude Akins, Natalie Trundy, John Huston

Have I Seen It Before: Yes, but it leapt immediately from my brain and memory, even all those years ago.

Did I Like It: If you cut out the awkward framing device, wherein The Lawgiver (Huston, because I’m betting Orson Welles uncharacteristically said no) pontificates on the legend of the first intelligent ape, Caesar (McDowall, who here is far too fascinated with the fact that he looks exactly like his father, Cornelius, for my taste), you might have a leaner movie that doesn’t end on an ape statue crying (no, really). If you cut out all the footage from earlier (read: better) films, this may not even qualify as a feature. Although, if you had added more footage of Escape from the Planet of the Apes (1971) you would also accidentally increase your Kim Hunter quotient, and I think there’s a pretty strong correlation between Kim Hunter or Andy Serkis’ presence in a Planet of the Apes movie and whether or not the film is worth a damn. It probably wouldn’t save the film. It certainly didn’t save Conquest of the Planet of the Apes (1972).

Now, I come here not to bury Caesar. I’ve even managed to find ways to praise him somewhat*. Stopping for several minutes to unpack the logic of time travel will only kind of work as a way to suck up to me. This movie wants to spend several minutes getting mired in the logical problems of time travel, which is usually a sure-fire way to suck up to me. It has more than enough weirdness in it. In fact, while the majority of this review has been demonstrably negative, I don’t think you would have a terrible time if you watched, certainly if you have watched the previous five films.

*I’m unreasonably proud with how that one turned out.

Escape From L.A. (1996)

Director: John Carpenter

Cast: Kurt Russell, Stacy Keach, Steve Buscemi, Peter Fonda

Have I Seen it Before: Admittedly, no. As much as I will spend my time professing love for Carpenter, I’ve had more than a few blind spots when it came to his later work, a set of blind spots I’ve been spending all summer trying to shore up.

Did I Like It: Carpenter proclaims that this is better than <Escape from New York (1981)> , which always seemed like the kind of thing the guy who apparently just directed an entire TV series from his couch would say…

But God help me, he might have been right. It wouldn’t be hard to write this film off as a remake-bordering-on-rip-off of New York, but I can’t avoid thinking about it as a real attempt to make the movie that Carpenter, Russell, and crew wanted to make all along. The original film takes place in a dystopia for the sake of dystopia, whereas the world of President Adam (Cliff Robertson) is an insane Christian Theocracy* that now feels less like speculative fiction, and more like sober reporting on the issues of the day.

Things start off here great stylistically from the opening credits. The cast is pound-for-pound surprisingly great, and Carpenter’s score is back in fine form. Carpenter’s melodies quickly take a back seat to the larger portion of Shirley Walker’s score, but the balance here is certainly better than in <Memoirs of an Invisible Man (1992)>, and if you’ve got to move away from a Carpenter score, you could do a lot worse than the musical voice behind Batman: The Animated Series.

Sure, there are some flaws here. The special effects are nearly wall-to-wall early CGI, where the original adventures of Snake Plisskin (Russell) were a triumph of practical effects, even in the parts of the film you thought were early, experimental CGI. Also, your individual mileage with the movie will vary directly with the degree to which you might enjoy depictions of surfing in movies, which isn’t really me.

*You know, as opposed to the really reasonable Christian theocracies that are out there.

Armored Car Robbery (1950)

Director: Richard Fleischer

Cast: Charles McGraw, Adele Jergens, William Talman, Douglas Fowley

Have I Seen it Before: Never. I’d go on and on about the context of seeing the movie here, but you can read all about it in my review of The Threat (1949), which I saw on the same night.

Did I Like It: Which is made all the more unfortunate, as not only the filmgoing experience bleeds together, but the film itself bleeds together, too. The Venn diagram for the cast of the two films resembles an oval, and making the heavy Threat the hero here isn’t enough to have the two films not bleed together in my memory. By the time this film started to roll, I had run out of popcorn and M&Ms, so it is entirely possible that the film never really had a chance. Might not even be its fault.

Something with such a utilitarian title ought to have the ruthless, unrelenting quality of Hitchcock or the early Carpenter films. This could have opened with the titular robbery, and had their characters perpetually on the run for a breathless hour, after which all of the robbers would either tragically or rightly get their swift justice at the wrong end of a gun.

Unfortunately, this isn’t one of those b-movies that can operate like the cinematic equivalent, ironically enough, of a heist itself. It fulfills all of the requirements RKO likely had for one of its b-pictures (especially in an era where they were supremely disinterested in filmmaker’s hijacking the studio post-Citizen Kane (1941)). It meanders too long on the femme fatale, and dispenses with many of the robbers in dull or inexplicable fashion. I’m thinking that it wasn’t until Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981) that someone edited footage of someone running afoul of an airplane correctly.

The Threat (1949)

Director: Felix E. Feist

Cast: Michael O’Shea, Virginia Grey, Charles McGraw, Julie Bishop

Have I Seen It Before: Never. I’m oddly proud of myself for making it out to the Noir Nights. It was the first day back at classes for the fall semester, and I made the calculus that I could afford to shirk classwork for a night to go to the movies, when I would normally only dream of doing when the decks were cleared. When it turned out to be a (if relatively short) double feature, I stayed put. My mother would be horrified. A late movie on a school night.

Did I Like It: Ebert would often say that no good film is ever long enough, and no bad film is ever short enough. However, at a 66 minute runtime, it’s sort of hard to get a read on whether The Threat is just a delightful piece of b-cornball, or a story which quickly (and appropriately) runs out of steam. It has square-jawed detectives, bombshells in over their heads, and grimy wise guys who are inevitably going to be in over their heads. It delivers precisely the bill of goods it promises.

And yet, I wonder if our own melodrama will only serve to inspire laughter in seventy or eighty years. The plot here hinges on something that (I’m not sure why I’m so concerned about spoiling it for you; it’s easy enough to find and insubstantial enough at its core) would now be used to move the plot along in a sitcom, and not a good one. There’s even a moment at the end where Det. Williams (O’Shea) and his wife (Bishop) get in on the joke, and the whole film—which really did involve quite a few people getting shot in the gut—ends in what is very nearly a freeze frame.

Dark Star (1974)

Director: John Carpenter

Cast: Dan O’Bannon, Brian Narelle, Cal Kuniholm, Dre Pahich

Have I Seen it Before: Yes. In my head, this movie is playing in my dorm room at some point, but any memories beyond the malevolent bouncing rubber ball (Nick Castle) have dimmed over time.

Did I Like It: I try not to look to other reviews as I begin my own. Too much seeps in and I wonder if I’m offering my own views. I couldn’t help, however, noting that star, screenwriter, production designer, and special effects technician Dan O’Bannon felt as if this collaboration with Carpenter started out as the greatest student film ever created, and ended up being one of the sloppier professional films ever released. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more aware self-assessment from a filmmaker.

And it’s interesting enough on that front. I would have loved to see more of the filmmaker Carpenter was about to become, but that doesn’t really come into play until <Assault on Precinct 13 (1976)>. Maybe if he had decided to remake <Forbidden Planet (1956)>* instead of <The Thing From Another World (1951)>, but that wasn’t the world we live in.

Thus, it ends up being a a pretty strong argument against the ubiquity of the auteur theory. This is largely O’Bannon’s film, and while it certainly reflects the work he would soon do in <Alien (1979)>, but there’s more than enough of <Total Recall (1990)> and his optical computer display work in <Star Wars - Episode IV: A New Hope (1977)> to see just where this film crawled so others could run. In fact it is the test run for so much of what becomes Alien, that those aforementioned fuzzy memories I had of the bouncing ball I thought were the crux of the film. Unfortunately, there are more than a few bits added in to pad out the running time, and not all of them work wit hthe same embryonic interest.

*A prospect which I’ve never found any evidence was ever on Carpenter’s radar, but he jammed two movies into <Halloween (1978)>, so don’t tell me I’m just pulling that thing out of nowhere.