By Gary Dretzka Dretzka@moviecitynews.com
The DVD Wrapup: Lion, Toni Erdmann, Worlds Apart, Daughters of the Dust, Ludwig, Cathy’s Curse and more
We hear so much about the kidnapping and virtual imprisonment of young women sold into slavery and prostitution that it’s easy to forget about the thousands of children stolen each year from their mothers at birth or grabbed from the streets of urban slums by traffickers and pimps. At the end of Lion, we’re alerted to the fact that upwards of 80,000 boys and girls go missing each year, while more than 11 million children live on the streets, just like the film’s protagonist, Saroo Brierley. He was one of the lucky few, who not only survived a great ordeal and but also were able to share their histories. Garth Davis’ thoroughly absorbing drama is based on Brierley’s memoir “A Long Way Home,” which chronicled his years-long search for the childhood home whose name he couldn’t pronounce or remember. After losing his older brother at the Burhanpur depot, two hours from his village, Saroo sought shelter in a compartment of passenger train he couldn’t have known would arrive, days later, in Kolkata, where he would become one of thousands of “lost children living and dying by their own wits. After nearly being snatched by sex traffickers, Saroo is taken by police to an orphanage, where, after a fruitless search for his parents, he was awarded to a loving family in Tasmania. It was as harmonious a union as such things get. Even before she learned his story, Sue Brierley put a map of India in his room and filled the house with Indian artifacts. She learned how to cook Indian food and only gradually introduced a western diet. His adoptive brother, Mantosh , a year younger than Saroo when he was adopted by the Brierleys, quickly revealed psychological problems that either were unknown to the agency or ignored. Twenty-five years after he left home, Saroo would use Google Earth to identify and return to his tiny rural village, where his mother and sister still lived and prayed every day for his safety. He learns, only then, the real reason his brother hadn’t come back to the depot that fateful night. In many western countries, an orphan’s ability to trace his/her biological parents has allowed for reunions, not all of them happy or mutually agreed upon. In Saroo’s case, the Brierleys not only encouraged him to trace his roots, but Sue would accompany Saroo on one of his visits to his first home.
Both the actors who play Saroo — Sunny Pawar, as the 5-year-old “lost boy,” and, later, Dev Patel (Slumdog Millionaire) — are terrific. Sue Brierley couldn’t have been happier to learn that fellow Aussie Nicole Kidman would portray her in Lion. Also excellent is Priyanka Bose, an Indian actor who gained widespread attention on stage in South African playwright Yael Farber’s “Nirbhaya,” which was based on the 2012 Delhi gang rape. Rooney Mara is very good, as well, as Saroo’s American girlfriend, Lucy, who shares classes with him in Melbourne. She encourages his quest, but sometimes bears the brunt of his frustration over not finding answers quickly enough. In real life, Lucy is Lisa Williams, an Australian, who Saroo began dating because she had a fast internet connection at her apartment. Supposedly, his “eureka” moment occurred during a meal at the home of some Indian friends. The sight and smell of jalebi — a sweet he loved as a child – brings him to tears. After Saroo confides to Lucy that he is adopted, a friend suggests he use Google Earth to search for his hometown in India. Easier said than done … but ultimately the correct decision. The reunion scenes are likely to trigger tears in viewers’ eyes, as well. Lion turned a nice profit for Weinstein Company and its partners. The six Oscar nominations it received — Best Picture, Best Supporting Actor (Patel), Best Supporting Actress (Kidman), Best Adapted Screenplay (Luke Davies), Best Original Score – certainly won’t hurt Blu-ray/DVD sales. Ironically, American production companies rejected the story when Australian producers Andrew Fraser and Shahen Mekertichian refused to change the Australian setting to America. Duh. The Blu-ray adds deleted scenes, a making-of gallery and “Never Give Up” music video, performed by Sia.
Films made about children appropriated by authorities and handed over to politically connected or wealthy families as orphans aren’t all that unusual. Lion’s happy ending is what sets it apart from other stories. Argentinian documentaries The Disappeared and Spoils of War describe the efforts made by the children and parents of victims of Argentina’s Dirty War (1976–1983) to investigate the truth concerning the murders of dissidents and kidnappings of an estimated 500 children born to women who would be killed by junta assassins. In 1985, Luis Puenzo’s The Official Story, on the same subject, won the Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film. The Magdalene Sisters and Sex in a Cold Climate are among several films about abuse at Ireland’s Magdalene Sisters Asylum, where some unwed mothers were forced to give their children up for adoption, while also being punished for their “sin” by working in the laundry. In Philomena, a journalist (Steve Coogan) picks up the story of a woman’s (Judi Dench) arduous search for her son, who was taken away from her decades earlier, and whose records were conveniently lost by the nuns in charge. Steven Spielberg and writer Tony Kushner are said to be in pre-production on “The Kidnapping of Edgardo Mortara,” which recounts the story of a young Jewish boy in Bologna, in 1858 who, having been secretly baptized Catholic, is forcibly taken from his family to be raised as a Christian. A good movie could probably be made about the Native Americans forcibly converted to Mormonism – sometimes after being purchased as slaves and “adopted” by families as unpaid workers — and raised according to beliefs handed down by founder and prophet Joseph Smith. In 1823, Smith proclaimed that American Indians were a branch of a lost tribe of Israel, the Laminites, and the Mormon faith was meant to bring them salvation. The Indian Child Welfare Act of 1978 put an end to the sanctioning of such adoptions, but brought to the fore an argument over whether tribes can dictate what’s in the best interests of an adopted child. Barbara Kingsolver’s novel “Pigs in Heaven” deals with just such a case. The sex trade in Southeast Asia and India largely depends on the cooperation of impoverished villagers willing to sell their virgin daughters to traffickers for cash. Dozens of documentaries on the subject – and a movie and TV series, Trade of Innocents and Human Trafficking, both starring Mira Sorvino – have failed to dissuade western tourists from making the abuse of “lost children” profitable.
It isn’t surprising that an American remake of Maren Ade’s thoroughly offbeat comedy Toni Erdmann is already on the drawing table, or that Jack Nicholson and Kristen Wiig’s names have been attached to it. In Alexander Payne’s not dissimilar About Schmidt (2002), Nicholson played a retired, recently widowed insurance executive who uses the excuse of his estranged daughter’s wedding to make amends for his emotional absence in her life. And, while mainstream comedies Bridesmaids, Ghostbusters and The Secret Life of Walter Mitty have catapulted “SNL” alum Wiig onto Hollywood’s A-list, it’s her mold-breaking performances in such barely seen indies as Nasty Baby, The Diary of a Teenage Girl, The Skeleton Twins, Hateship Loveship and Welcome to Me that make her an ideal candidate to play the no-nonsense corporate executive forced to accommodate her father’s eccentric behavior. Wiig’s ballsy portrayal of a manic-depressive lottery winner, who finances her own “Oprah”-like talk show, suggests that she’s acutely aware of what made Sandra Hüller’s performance in Toni Erdmann so remarkable. The likelihood that the Hollywood remake might retain the original’s 162-minute length borders on zero, even if it were re-worked to fit the bounds of an easier-to-market PG-13, which would zap many of its funnier moments. (The R-rating accorded Toni Erdmann seemed generous, at least by the usual MPAA standards.) Hüller’s tightly wound Ines Conradi represents the interests of a German management-consultancy firm in Budapest. Negotiations have reached the critical stage, so the last thing she needs in her life is her prankster father, Winfried (Peter Simonischek), showing up with his fake teeth and fright wigs. Because Ade has already demonstrated Winfried’s willingness to embarrass loved ones for the sake of a gag, we’re ready for anything to happen when he shows up unannounced not only at his daughter’s doorstep, but at her office, business receptions and dinners with her ex-pat friends. His favorite prank is to dispense gobbledygook advice to anyone willing to spend five minutes in the company of his alter ego, “Toni Erdmann.” Imagine a hybrid of Jerry Lewis and Dr. Irwin Corey – who died two months ago, at 102 – and you’ll have a pretty good idea of the title character’s shtick, which is as off-putting as it is hilarious. Indeed, it takes us almost as long to warm to Winfried as for Ines to figure out how to accommodate his whims. It’s what makes the extreme length – for a dark comedy, anyway – so easy to endure. Special features include commentary with Simonischek, Hüller and producer Janine Jackowski, and an AFI Fest Q&A with Simonischek, Hüller, Jackowski and co-star Ingrid Bisu. Apparently, a Blu-ray version of Toni Erdmann is available through Amazon on manufactured-on-demand basis, using BD-R recordable media.
The Mafia Kills Only in Summer
It would take four or five hyphens to classify Pierfrancesco Diliberto’s affectionately drawn comedy, The Mafia Kills Only in Summer, which manages to find the humor, romance, excitement, danger and mystery in one Sicilian boy’s formative years in the mob-controlled city of Palermo. Real events that took place in Sicily between the 1970s and the 1990s provide the background for a film that probably couldn’t have been set anywhere else in the world. No city located outside a warzone was more prone to institutional corruption, targeted bombings and assassinations than the ancient capital of Sicily, a city of roughly 855,285 souls. While most of its residents aren’t affiliated with La Cosa Nostra, very few have been unaffected by its lawlessness. It’s shown through the eyes of Arturo Giammaresi — Alex Bisconti, as Arturo bambino, and the director, as the adult — a sensitive and politically aware child whose story spans 20 years and includes a romance with a pretty little girl, Flora (Ginevra Antona/Cristiana Capotondi), who grows up to become a campaign manager in the embattled city. The bambini are separated just as they’re about to make a puppy-love connection and reunited when she needs a videographer to cover her candidate’s slightly odious campaign. The Mafia Kills Only in Summer is the rare movie that gets away with mocking some bad people — all the major political, judicial and criminal figures depicted are real – while extolling the virtues of the heroes who risk their well-being to clean up a system whose corruption has been accepted as a cruel fact of life by the populace. This includes former Italian prime minister Giulio Andreotti, with whom Arturo maintains a nearly lifelong obsession. (A comparison can be made to Andrew Bergman’s smart and funny The Freshman, in which a film-school student, played by Matthew Broderick, accepts a job with a mob chieftain, played by Marlon Brando, who bears an uncanny resemblance to Don Vito Corleoni, also played by Brando.) Because most of the Mafiosi involved in the crimes illustrated in the movie have since been killed or died in prison, the movie’s final conceit allows for a genuinely sentimental what-did-you-do-in-the-war ending.
Recent Academy Award-winner J.K. Simmons is featured on the cover of Christopher Papakaliatis’ topical drama, Worlds Apart, but enters the picture so late that it’s possible to wonder if his presence might be limited to a cameo, intended to tantalize American audiences. In fact, Simmons’ role turns out to be an essential portion of a triptych set against the backdrop of contemporary Greek life. Like the Athenian writer/director’s first feature, What If … (2012), it is informed by the country’s ongoing struggle to survive economic strife and crushing unemployment. Worlds Apart adds Greece’s current dilemma over issues related to becoming a first-stop refuge for immigrants escaping Syria’s civil war and sub-Saharan poverty. It is comprised of three separate narratives, each following a love story between a foreigner and a Greek. In the first, Tawfeek Barhom plays Farris, an immigrant street peddler who rescues a young Greek woman, Niki (Niki Vakali), from an attack and possible gang rape on an Athens street. One day, he recognizes her through the window of the bus taking her home from work. It allows him the opportunity to return the cellphone he recovered from the alley and embark on a tentative friendship. He returns each night to an abandoned jetliner at a decaying airfield outside the city, where dozens of illegal immigrants, some inarguably dangerous, have found shelter. It has become a target for right-wing Greeks who blame the refugees for a rise in crime. In the second narrative, Papakaliatis plays Giorgos, a department supervisor in a foreign-owned company that’s downsizing to squeeze every drachma from its Greek subsidiary. In addition to the problems he faces at work, Giorgos is fighting to keep his head above water paying the bills for family members, including a young son. One night, while drowning his sorrows in a bar, he meets and engages in a one-night stand with a cool Scandinavian blond, Elise (Andrea Osvárt), who kicks him out of her apartment after sex, because she “doesn’t like to sleep with men I don’t know.” It’s the perfect definition of a distinction without a difference. Naturally, Elise and Giorgos are further linked by the fact that she’s his new boss and has charged with initiating, however reluctantly, the severe cuts impacting his co-workers. Nonetheless, the sex is good and she eventually warms to his presence in the sack. In the third interrelated segment, Simmons plays a German ex-pat, Sebastian, who moves to Greece because he loves the country and his marks go further in an economy partially destroyed by his government’s ability to avoid paying debts accrued from the Nazi occupation. After a meet-cute encounter outside a neighborhood market, he and Maria (Maria Kavoyianni) come together on a weekly basis at the same place to chat and narrow the language gap. It’s sweet and innocent, for the most part, but aborted by a freak incident that tangentially links all three couples with the agony and ecstasy that is modern Greece. If some of the coincidences beg credulity, it’s all for a good cause. At home, Worlds Apart became the first movie to exceed 600,000 admissions since December, 2009, when Avatar opened. It was the top-grossing movie in Greece in 2015, surpassing Star Wars: The Force Awakens and Spectre. That has to count for something.
Daughters of the Dust: Blu-ray
Before this year’s Academy Awards nominations were announced, Hollywood insiders held their collective breath in anticipation of another year in which performances by African-American actors, writers and directors were overlooked or ignored, and protests erupted. Given the number of excellent pictures from which to choose, however, it wasn’t likely that the debate would continue for another season. The perceived snubbing of onetime favorite The Birth of a Nation was attributed to the revived controversy surrounding allegations that, while at Penn State, director Nate Parker and story collaborator Jean McGianni Celestin raped a fellow student and, at the time of his trial, Parker had exposed himself to another woman. He was acquitted of all four counts brought against him, while Celestin’s conviction for sexual assault would be overturned several years later. Neither did more recent comments by Parker, stating that he would refuse to play a gay or stereotyped character, help the picture’s chances. The debate didn’t prevent Parker and The Birth of a Nation from receiving several nominations for Black Reel and Image Award honors or detract from the excellent reviews the film received. Eyebrows were raised, though, when accusations of sexual misconduct against Casey Affleck – later mediated and settled out of court – seemingly were ignored by Oscar nominators and voters. I wouldn’t care to predict how colorful the palette of next year’s Oscar slate will turn out to be, but it’s worth recalling that one of the greatest snubs in Academy Award history came a quarter-century ago in the organization’s total rejection of writer/director Julie Dash’s masterpiece, Daughters of the Dust, newly available in a splendid Blu-ray edition. Ironically, its snubbing is routinely ignored by reporters assigned each year the task of pointing out snubs and surprises in the voting. Arthur Jafa’s impressionistic cinematography, alone, would have warranted a nomination most years. Don’t take my word for it, though. Rent, purchase, download or stream a copy of the elegantly restored film — credit Cohen Media Group, in conjunction with UCLA – and experience it for yourself. Or, you could trust Beyoncé, whose visual interpretation of her album “Lemonade,” on HBO, featured several references to the film.
In addition to its standing as the first wide release by a black female filmmaker, Daughters of the Dust was selected in 2004 to join the Library of Congress’ National Registry of Film in 2004. Thanks to the kinds of articles and documentaries generally reserved for exposure during Black History Month, more Americans than ever before are aware of the Gullah (a.k.a., Geechee) culture that informs every aspect of Dash’s work. Her father was a Gullah from the Sea Islands of Georgia, as was her nanny, who performed certain rituals Dash would only later identify with a specific people and place. Daughters of the Dust tells the story of three generations of Gullah women in the Peazant family, on St. Helena Island, in 1902. It is narrated by the Unborn Child, carried by Eula, a married daughter in the Peazant family, who represents the first generation of black Americans born free. Several of the Gullahs we meet in the movie have already joined the Great Migration, while others will soon seek prosperity outside the agriculturally based South. Matriarch Nana Peazant, who can recall the arrival of the last illegal slave ship, Wanderer, in 1858, will remain on the island after this last family dinner on the beach, if only to maintain the graves of her ancestors and preserve traditions handed down from slaves of Ibo, Yoruba, Kikongo, Mende, Twi and Caribbean extraction. Dash had worked on Daughters of the Dust since 1975, while a student in Los Angeles, finally garnering the necessary $800,000 financing in 1988, from PBS’ “American Playhouse,” to launch full-scale production. Besides the historical and personal references, Dash’s incorporation of magical realism and Gullah creole dialogue make the film altogether unique and wonderfully poetic. The ecstatic response by critics and judges at the 1991 Sundance festival should have given Golden Globe and Oscar nominators sufficient cause to pay attention to film’s limited release 11 months later. Pleading ignorance wouldn’t have been a legitimate excuse to overlook Daughters of the Dust. Considering that it never played on more than 19 screens at the same time, an initial domestic box-office of $1.6 million is remarkable. The beautifully restored Blue-ray adds an interview with Jafa, who would go on to shoot Crooklyn, and be second-unit cinematographer on Eyes Wide Shut, Malcolm X and Selma; a Q&A with Dash; and an interview with Dash and Dr. Stephane Dunn.
War on Everyone: Blu-ray
At a time when police forces around the country are being besieged with complaints over incidents ranging from unwarranted stops and searches, to the questionable use of force against unarmed citizens, it’s probably just as well that John Michael McDonagh’s bad-boy action/comedy War on Everyone wasn’t accorded a theatrical release. I get that it’s designed as a parody of the cop shows of a bygone era, in which a pair of unorthodox dudes could get away with all sorts of mischief, as long as the bad guys paid for their crimes in the end. Here, Alexander Skarsgård and Michael Peña play a consciously malevolent reimagining of “Starsky and Hutch,” with hefty helpings of profanity, homophobia, racial slurs, beatdowns and sexist humor. The London-born filmmaker has already proven that he can handle hyperviolent action in The Guard, Calvary and his screenplay for Gregor Jordan’s Ned Kelly. A certain number of stylishly executed beatdowns in War on Everyone were only to be expected. It’s the piling on that draws the flag here. In it, Albuquerque police detectives Terry Monroe and Bob Bolaño meet their match in a scheme to steal a million bucks from an aristocratic Brit villain, Lord James Mangan (Theo James), and his lisping sidekick, Russell (Caleb Landry Jones). Not surprisingly, an inordinate amount of time is spent in a strip club that serves as Mangan’s cover. (Where would Hollywood be without the shorthand provided by titty bars?) The real problem comes in knowing that the sun has set on law-enforcement officials who think they can run roughshod over the citizenry – criminals, whores and other shady characters, among them – and not expect to pay for it, even in the popular media. The number of cops who can get away with being cool, ironic and studly, simultaneously, while committing such abuses, is pretty low, as well. Back in the day, the Production Code simply wouldn’t allow it. Paul Reiser plays their chief, who, while questioning their excesses, serves as an enabler. The Blu-ray adds, “Everyone Sounds Off: The Quirky Cast of War on Everyone.”
After causing a bit of a stir and Sundance, White Girl suffered the same unkind fate as too many other red-hot indies when they come down from their Rocky Mountain highs. Only a few ride the wave all the way to awards season, while the majority are forced to settle for being picked up for release on DVD and VOD. There simply aren’t enough screens available to accommodate the large number of pictures that are seen and reviewed at Sundance, Telluride and, even, Toronto. Marketing costs are another hurdle altogether. Equal parts urban myth and urban cliché, White Girl forwards the age-old fable of the naïve college girl from the boonies, who moves to the big city and is immediately corrupted by its less savory elements. Rising star Morgan Saylor is extremely credible as Leah, a button-cute blond who no sooner unpacks the boxes in her new Queens apartment than she hooks up with a street-corner dealer, Blue (Brian Marc), mostly with the sole intention of getting high. It doesn’t take long for Leah to go from pot to cocaine and begin having rough-and-tumble sex with him, though. While that’s not particularly unusual, she also allows herself to be seduced by her boss at the job arranged through her school and become the middle (wo)man for cocaine (a.k.a., white girl) provided by Blue. Leah not only ends up getting hooked on the drugs she’s selling, but also the hot sex he provides and the thrill that comes with becoming a big shot at the nightclub she frequents with her insatiable friends. All sorts of complications arise from this situation, not all of them predictable. As nice a guy as Blue appears to be, at first, he answers to dealers who drive hard bargains and have a sixth sense for potential welshers. When Blue gets in trouble, Leah turns to a lawyer (Chris Noth) known for getting small-timers out of jail. His expertise comes at a stiff price, as well. By the time things sort themselves out, Leah has absorbed more about crisis management than she could learn in a classroom. In her freshman feature, Elizabeth Wood (Wade in the Water, Children) does a nice job capturing the contrasting vibes that electrify neighborhoods in the process of being gentrified, and the naivete of young people willing to cross boundaries without looking both ways, first. Leah’s increasingly high-stakes pursuit of hedonistic pleasures, we’re told, was inspired by Wood’s own experiences
After launching four well-received theatrical features on the LGBT festival circuit, it would nice if some deep-pocketed fellow gave John G. Young an opportunity to find success in the wider indie market. At this point in his career, money, or lack thereof, would appear to be an impediment to expanding his horizons. Bwoy is an example of bare-bones cinema that works, but probably could have been shot in three differently decorated phone booths, with a cellphone, with the same positive results. The deceptively simple premise also would fit a trifurcated stage. In Jamaican patois, “bwoy” is slang for boy, while “batty bwoy” is a pejorative term for a male who’s gay, bisexual or effeminate. Its use here is ironic, in the same way that the n-word once was deployed in titles during the blaxploitation era. In fact, Jamaica plays a crucial role in the advancement of the drama here. After suffering a great personal loss and the rupturing of his marriage, fortysomething phone-solicitor Brad O’Connor (Anthony Rapp) has come to the end of his tether. He’s finally decided to acknowledge his homosexuality, if only on the down-low, via the Internet. After a mind-numbing eight hours spent attempting to collect debts by phone, he ignores his patient African-American wife, Marcia (De’Adre Aziza), and heads straight for the man-cave in the basement of their Schenectady home. Brad is new to the online-sex game, where honesty and sensitivity are reserved for suckers. He gets no responses to his early postings, but plenty when he stretches the truth to fit the desires of respondents. Brad finds a playmate in Yenny (Jimmy Brooks), a handsome 23-year-old Jamaican, who quickly discerns the older man’s desire to serve as a father figure. After he breaks his cherry on Skype, things quickly evolve to the point where he become obsessed with Yennie and begins sending him money. No surprise, there. The story then takes a turn so unexpected that it reshapes the drama, opening it up for a bit of Jamaican sunshine to restore some needed light. The distance between New York and the Caribbean disappears in an instant. Despite the cramped quarters, the acting sells the story, which, in different hands, could have turned into a masturbatory trifle.
Dead or Alive Trilogy: Blu-ray
With 102 directing credits listed on his IMDB.com resume, Takashi Miike has undoubtedly been one of the world’s most prolific filmmakers of the past quarter-century, regardless of genre. The vast majority are feature-length and almost impossible to encapsulate in a few sentences. Miike may have begun his apprenticeship under two-time Palme d’Or winner Shôhei Imamura (The Ballad of Narayama, The Eel), but he is as close to being self-taught and self-motivated as anyone who’s made a career in the cinema dodge. While most of us were introduced to his work through his way-beyond-creepy Audition (1999), such divergent entertainments as Black Society Trilogy, Shinjuku Triad Society, The Happiness of the Katakuris, Hara-Kiri: Death of a Samurai, Over Your Dead Body, Zebraman and Ichi: The Killer have been given the red-carpet treatment by Shout! Factory and Arrow Video. For sheer gonzo excitement, it would be difficult to top his Dead or Alive Trilogy. Ostensibly, all three films — Dead or Alive, Dead or Alive 2: Birds, Dead or Alive: Final – are about gang wars pitting rival Chinese triads and Japanese Yakuza mobsters against a dogged enforcer, who could be a distant cousin of Wayne Newton and Don Ho. If none of the three titles is a direct sequel to the other, all of them star Riki Takeuchi and Show Aikawa. In Part One, Takeuchi plays the gangster Ryuuichi, who, along with his ethnically Chinese gang, is making a play to take over the drug trade in Tokyo’s Shinjuku district by massacring the competition. Detective Jojima (Aikawa), who sports a black trench coat, shades and a pompadour hairdo, uses his wiles and weapons to get the triads and Yakuza to thin out each other’s ranks, so that he can finish them off. It’s distinguished by perverse sexuality, stylized violence and clowns. In “Birds,” Aikawa and Takeuchi are together again, but as competing Yakuza assassins. After a botched hit, the childhood friends flee to their home island and dedicate themselves to killing in the name of peace. In “Final,” Takeuchi and Aikawa are catapulted into a post-apocalyptic Yokohama that’s ruled by multilingual gangs, cyborg soldiers and a nutso mayor. They will butt heads, until the outrageously conceived finale, when they’re joined forever in a steampunk rapture. Miike’s raw display of unfettered imagination is nothing short of exhilarating. The special edition is enhanced by high-definition digital transfers of all three films; original uncompressed stereo; new interviews with actors Takeuchi and Aikawa, and producer/screenwriter Toshiki Kimura; new audio commentary for Dead or Alive by Miike biographer Tom Mes; archive interviews with cast and crew; vintage making-of featurettes for “DOA2: Birds” and “DOA: Final”; original theatrical trailers; a reversible sleeve, featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Orlando Arocena; and, first-pressing only, an illustrated collector’s booklet with new writing on the films by Kat Ellinger.
Ludwig: Limited Edition: Blu-ray
After watching Arrow Academy’s exquisitely restored edition of Luchino Visconti’s Ludwig (1973), I went on line to learn which monarch was crazier, Britain’s “Mad King” George III or “Mad King” Ludwig II of Bavaria, both of whose insanity has been documented in grandiose fashion on film. According to the TopTenz website, these men were only Nos. 10 and 7 on the top-10 list of wacko royals. (For those keeping score at home, the leading loony was Charles IX of France, who ascended to the crown only after all of the others in line for the job died.) George III and Ludwig II had other things going for them, when lucid, but may best be recalled in posterity for the biopics made by Nicholas Hytner and Alan Bennett, Visconti and co-writer Enrico Medioli. Of the two films, The Madness of King George fared much better at the box office and awards ceremonies. Ludwig was the final piece in Visconti’s so-called German Trilogy, which also included The Damned (1969) and Death in Venice (1971). All of them dealt with one form of depravity, or another, including several things the MPAA tends to lump together as “aberrant sexuality.” In fact, though, when compared to the other films, Ludwig is rather tame. Even in the longer, preferred cut edition, the male nudity is either quite brief or shown from a distance. There isn’t any sex to speak of, either. That shouldn’t dissuade anyone from tackling the 238-minute cut, however. Ludwig remains notable, if only for Visconti and cinematographer Armando Nannuzzi’s celebration of such grand Bavarian locations as Roseninsel, Berg Castle, Lake Starnberg, Castle Herrenchiemsee, Castle Hohenschwangau, Linderhof Palace, Cuvilliés Theatre, Nymphenburg Palace, Ettal, Kaiservilla and Neuschwanstein Castle. The stigma attached to Ludwig when it was released derived from at least two severe edits demanded by European and America distributors, undertaken after Visconti had suffered a stroke. When it was first shown in New York, it ran 173 minutes. It would lose another half-hour on its way to the hinterlands. The nearly four-hour edition is complemented here by the television mini-series cut, which is at least as long. While no barn-burn, it benefits from some fine acting by Helmut Berger, as the king; Romy Schneider, as Empress Elisabeth of Austria; Trevor Howard, as composer Richard Wagner, a beneficiary of Ludwig’s foolhardy largess; Silvana Mangano, Wagner’s imperious wife Cosima von Bulow; and Gert Fröbe, as Father Hoffman. There’s also the splendid Alpine scenery, Piero Tosi’s Oscar-nominated costume design and a soundtrack that’s heavy on Wagner and Jacques Offenbach. Among the highlights for me were Ludwig’s truly bizarre entrances, by boat, through indoor swan pools. The limited edition features a 4K restoration from the original film negative; two viewing options, the full-length theatrical cut or as five individual parts; original Italian soundtrack and English soundtrack, available on home video for the first time; a new interview with Berger; “Luchino Visconti,” an hourlong documentary portrait of the director by Carlo Lizzani, containing vintage interviews with Burt Lancaster, Vittorio Gassman, Francesco Rosi and Claudia Cardinale; an entertaining interview with script collaborator, Suso Cecchi d’Amico; “Silvana Mangano: The Scent of a Primrose,” a half-hour portrait of the actress; and, first pressing only, an illustrated collector s booklet containing new writing by Peter Cowie.
Sword Master: Blu-ray
Longtime fans of Hong Kong martial-arts epics will recognize Sword Master as a technically superior updating of the Shaw Brother’s 1977 wuxia pian, Death Duel. Fans of American Westerns and Japanese Samurai flicks are likely to find many similarities between those two films – adapted from a novel by Gu Long – and American genre films and TV episodes in which a retired gunslinger is required by circumstances to strap on his weapon one last time to defend his honor or die trying. In Derek Yee’s 2016 version, the Third Master of the reigning Hsieh clan (Lin Gengxin) has so grown weary of killing people in the defense of other people’s interests that he disguises himself as Ah Chi, a lowly servant in a brothel. His cover is blown when he’s stabbed several times by thugs attacking a prostitute, popularly known as Sweetie (Jiang Mengjie). Another wandering swordsman, Yan (Peter Ho), intends to prompt a duel with Third Master to test his own skill, but an impending war between various martial-arts houses poses a threat to both of the old-school warriors. It inspires a high-flying battle royal, with lots of cool wuxia action, likely supervised by producer Tsui Hark. While some critics have argued that the CGI and fairytale backgrounds occasionally detract from the swordplay, Sword Master is a lot of fun and easily accessible to wuxia beginners. The 3D edition of the film has yet to be released here. The Blu-ray comes with a making-of featurette.
Standing 6-foot-3, writer/director Fred Wolf has repeatedly proven that he can take a punch. He survived the early cancellations of talk shows hosted by Pat Sajak and Chevy Chase, becoming head writer of “Saturday Night Live,” throughout most of the 1990s. He’s also weathered the scathing reviews received as co-writer, with, among others, David Spade and Adam Sandler, of Joe Dirt, Dickie Roberts: Former Child Star, both Grown Ups and the completely unnecessary direct-to-Crackle Joe Dirt: Beautiful Loser and straight-to-Internet Mad Families. For all the insults hurled at those movies by critics, Wolf was handed the director and co-writer’s reins of the slightly higher profile Drunk Parents, with Alex Baldwin, Salma Hayek, Joe Manganiello and Bridget Moynahan. Made with former “SNL” collaborator and Strange Wilderness partner Peter Gaulke, it was scheduled for a March release, but appears to have been made available for free – legally or illegally, I don’t know — on Internet services. According to his mini-bio on IMDB, Wolf splits his time between Carmel and Santa Fe. If still true, Mad Families’ tanking probably won’t put a dent in his lifestyle. It’s set over a July 4 weekend at the Salt Stone State Park, whose campsites have been overbooked to the point where three families — Hispanic, African-American and Caucasian – are required to share one spot. It appears to be large enough to accommodate all three, but where would be the fun in that? Since none of them volunteer to split the scene, they agree to compete in a series of competitions to determine a winner. One requires the characters to participate in a contest to decide who can come up the best racist joke. There’s also an agonizing race around the pond. Several gags involve Charlotte McKinney’s ample bosom and short-shorts, while the drama derives from the Hispanic daughter and African-American son’s unannounced plans to be married. Charlie Sheen and Leah Remini headline a cast that also includes Finesse Mitchell, Naya Rivera, Barry Shabaka Henley, Juan Gabriel Pareja, Efren Ramirez and Danny Mora.
Dark Waters: Blu-ray
The Other Hell: Blu-ray
As is often the case with obscure genre titles distributed by such niche companies as Severin Films, the journey can be more interesting than the destination. Newly transferred into high def from their original 35mm negatives or prints, prime nunsploitation specimens Dark Waters (1993) and The Other Hell (1981) fit that description to a “T.” The only difference from such classics as Ken Russell’s The Devils, Gianfranco Mingozzi’s Flavia the Heretic, Jesus Franco’s Love Letters of the Portuguese Nun, Walerian Borowczyk’s Behind Convent Walls and Nigel Wingrove’s Sacred Flesh, is that they’re largely free of nudity and lesbian sex. (Yeah, I know, then what’s the point?)They are, however, loaded with sadistic violence, gore, spooky Catholic iconography, endangered babies, blood-stained habits and stylistically ominous cinematography. In the interview section of the Dark Waters Blu-ray, Naples-native Mariano Baino explains how his fascination with horror began at age 8, during a school visit to Rome. While there, he purchased a copy of H.P. Lovecraft’s “The Dreams in the Witch-House” — presumably not in the Vatican gift shop – and became hooked on studying things on the dark side of life. Ten years later, he entered Rome’s Experimental Centre of Cinematography, where he was handed the tools to the trade. His short cannibalistic fantasy, “Caruncula,” attracted the attention newly wealthy Russian producer Victor Zuev, who offered initial financing for a feature, as long as it was made in post-Chernobyl Ukraine. While there, Baino encountered more setbacks in a month than many filmmakers face in a lifetime, from losing his studio space in a deal brokered by his corrupt production manager, to nearly having his cast and crew asphyxiated in the poorly ventilated Odessa Catacombs. In a nutshell, the plot focuses on a young Englishwoman, Elizabeth (Louise Salter), who returns to the island of her birth, both to investigate a convent her recently deceased father has been making payments to for years and visit a friend in residence there … before her mysterious death, at least. Apparently, the nuns are killing people at the behest of the Mother Superior, who looks as if she has just risen from the dead. She’s directed to a decaying library, hidden laboratories and a blind oracle/painter in the catacombs, who warns of demon cult and a Beast in the basement. The Blu-ray adds more than four hours of commentary to this Lovecraft-inspired ditty, with Baino; the featurettes, “Lovecraft Made Me Do It,” “Let There Be Water,” “Controlling the Uncontrollable” and “Deep Into the Dark Waters”; an intro; deleted scenes; a silent blooper reel with commentary by Baino; short films, “Dream Car,” “Caruncula” and “Never Ever After”; and a piece on the making of “Never Ever After.”
The Other Hell was made by Bruno Mattei, a director known affectionately as “The Italian Ed Wood,” for his ability to churn out exploitation flicks and “shockumentaries” that most of his peers would be embarrassed to make … unless they needed a gig. Mattei also enjoyed the distinction of having more pseudonyms than any working director on the planet. They include Vincent Dawn (Mondo Cannibal, Snuff Killer), Gilbert Roussel (Women’s Prison Massacre), J. Metheus (Emanuelle and the Erotic Nights), Jimmy Matheus (Libidomania), Jimmy B. Matheus (Cicciolina amore mio), William Snyder (Cruel Jaws) and Stefan Oblowsky (The True Story of the Nun of Monza, The Other Hell). Filmed mostly at Rome’s Convento di Santa Priscilla and Naples’ Cimitero delle Fontanelle, The Other Hell doesn’t look any worse for the wear of miniscule budgets and cut-rate production values. It opens with a nun searching for one of her fellow sisters in the lower levels of a convent. After making her way through the well-stocked ossuary, she arrives in what first appears to be a mad scientist’s lab, but is soon revealed to be a poorly lit embalmers’ chamber. It’s here that we’re treated to a lesson on how to embalm a sinful nun, the first step of which is to identify where the sin derived and thrust a knife into it. In this case, she’s told, the nun on the slab had been impregnated by Satan … so, you make the leap. The unsuccessfully aborted spawn is a monster with black body hair and demonic eyes, who suckles at the breast of the embalmed corpse of the convent’s former Mother Superior, which is stored in a closet. It’s just as yummy as it sounds. A couple of priests are imported to investigate the rash of killings, with the younger, new-school cleric using modern methodology to find the source of the evil. While Mattei employs some fancy-schmancy effects and cinematography, the story rests on good old-fashioned stabbings, stigmata, Satanism, violence, graphic savagery, immolation and a severed head. The Other Hell stars Franca Stoppi, Carlo De Mejo and Franco Garofalo; was written by Claudio Fragasso (Rats: Night of Terror, Troll 2); and features a score “borrowed” from Goblin. It’s been newly transferred from a 35mm print allegedly discovered behind a false wall in a Bologna convent. The Blu-ray adds commentary with co-cirector/co-writer Claudio Fragasso, moderated by Freak-O-Rama’s Federico Caddeo; an amusing interview with Stoppi, who played Sister Franca; and “To Hell And Back,” archival interviews with Mattei and De Mejo.
House: Two Stories: Limited Edition: Blu-ray
Released at the zenith of Hollywood’s slasher era, 1986, House is a haunted-domicile thriller that exploits another then-current conceit: the Vietnam veteran so traumatized by the war that he’s a hazard to himself and people around him. PTSD had officially been recognized by the American Psychiatric Association in 1980, but only as an anxiety disorder, not the more paralyzing “trauma- and stressor-related disorder” it would become. At the time, almost all slasher and splatter films were rated “R,” with plenty of gratuitous violence and nudity, if not always sex and pubic hair. The only problem facing director Steve Miner and producer Sean S. Cunningham – early veterans of the Friday the 13th franchise – was the fact that House, for all its well-earned thrills and chills, was a picture on the verge of being rated “PG-13.” The rating was added in 1984 to bridge the gap separating borderline attractions, such as Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom and Gremlins, and the clearly rougher Friday the 13th and Halloween. Short of adding of a shower scene or decapitation in post, it’s possible that a second F-bomb could have be added to the dialogue. Like Robert Mandel’s extremely clever thriller, F/X, whose “R” was attributed to crude language, House could hold its own in the jump-scare department, with some demonic creatures and nightmarish flashbacks experienced by the protagonist, played by William Katt. Made for a modest $3 million, it returned $18.5 million at the domestic box office and spawned three so-so sequels, including House II: The Second Story, included in the Arrow set.
The original opens with a boy discovering the lifeless body of his aunt hanging from a ceiling fixture in the second-story bedroom of her Victorian-style house. Several years later, Roger Cobb (Katt), a horror novelist struggling to pen his next bestseller, inherits the creaky old mansion and moves in, despite the still-vivid memory of her death and, worse, the disappearance of his son at the same residence. Roger’s obsessive search for the boy destroys his marriage to Sandy (Kay Lenz) and his writing career. What the heck, he figures, the ghosts might even serve to untangle his writer’s block. Instead, the things that go bump in the night are either real live monsters or hallucinations. Meanwhile, his dreams take him back to Vietnam. That, or a Hollywood depiction of Roger’s time in-country. It’s not always easy to tell. Helping him escape his dilemma is the son of the blond bombshell across the street, who, while being babysat by Roger, stumbles upon portals to supernatural worlds protected by the house. Miner succeeds in tying up the loose ends and delivering a payoff that, if not terribly frightening, is entirely satisfying.
Two years later, the PG-13 onus has gone away, allowing co-writer/director Ethan Wiley the freedom to make a movie that teens could enjoy, as well as older horror buffs. “It’s an all new house with brand new owners,” read the ads for House II: The Second Story. Yuppies Jesse (Arye Gross) and Kate (Lar Park Lincoln) move into the same old Gothic mansion in which his parents died in 25 years earlier. (Why do people do that?) Not long afterward, his buddy, Charlie (Jonathan Stark), and his girlfriend, Lana (Amy Yasbeck), roll into town for a housewarming visit. While the ladies chill, Jesse and Charlie pore through the books and photo albums contained in the library and basement, discovering evidence that could lead to an Aztec treasure. It takes them to the grave of Jesse’s great-great-grandad (Royal Dano), where, they believe, a key piece of the puzzle can be found. The lads do what any clear-thinking yuppie would do: dig up Gramps’ casket, open the lid and lift out the crystal skull in the corpse’s hands. Surprise, surprise … Gramps’ previously lifeless hands grab Jesse’s arm, suggesting that we now have a zombie movie on our hands. Well, sort of. Gramps turns out to be a spry old geezer, after all, becoming Charlie’s booger buddy overnight. “House II” then turns into a comic adventure that combines elements of Raiders of the Lost Ark, Back to the Future and One Million Years B.C. There’s nothing to gain by spoiling the fun, except to point out that George Wendt and John Ratzenberger play substantial supporting roles in the films, practically reprising their Norm and Cliff roles, in “Cheers.” Also showing up, in “House II,” is aspiring actor Bill Maher, as a music-industry weasel hoping to steal Kate away from Jesse. The restored Limited Edition package contains “The House Companion,” a 60-page book, featuring new writing on the entire franchise by researcher Simon Barber, alongside archival material; commentary with Miner, Cunningham, Katt and Wiley; “Ding Dong, You’re Dead! The Making of House,” a new documentary, featuring interviews with Miner, Cunningham, Wiley, story creator Fred Dekker, stars Katt, Lenz, and Wendt, composer Harry Manfredini, special make-up and creature-effects artists Barney Burman, Brian Wade, James Belohovek, Shannon Shea, Kirk Thatcher and Bill Sturgeon, special paintings artists Richard Hescox and William Stout, and stunt coordinator Kane Hodder; and a stills gallery.
Cathy’s Curse: Blu-ray
Fear Town, USA/The Slashening: Double Feature: Blu-ray
The Blackout Experiments
The Ungovernable Force
Dream Stalker/Death by Love
Once again, the good folks at Severin Films have performed yeoman’s work in rescuing and restoring a long-ignored genre gem: the 1977 Canuxploitation classic, Cathy’s Curse (a.k.a., “Cauchemars”). Although it looks primitive, especially by the standards set by such cruel-kids thrillers as The Omen, Eddy Matalon’s Quebec-set film demonstrated that credible special effects could done on the cheap and laughs could be had at the expense of unsuspecting victims. That it was completely taken for granted at the time of its release and, of course, butchered to fit time constraints was par for the course for non-studio products, as well. Even when viewed primarily as a precursor to the slicky made horror flicks of the later-1970s-80s, Cathy’s Curse is fun to watch. Matalon moved from France to Montreal to take advantage of the same tax breaks American and British filmmakers were exploiting in Toronto and Vancouver. Canada’s Capital Cost Allowance would be severely reduced in 1982, but the path had already been laid by such beauties as My Bloody Valentine, Black Christmas, Prom Night, Terror Train and Ivan Reitman’s Cannibal Girls (“The Picture With The Warning Bell!”). In Matalon’s film, co-scripted with Myra Clément and Alain Sens-Cazenave, a young girl is roasted alive in a car accident after being abducted by her cuckolded and, therefore, misogynistic father. Thirty years later, her grown brother (Alan Scarfe) returns to their childhood home with his mentally unstable wife (Beverley Murray) and daughter, Cathy (Randi Allen). Almost as soon as the movers pack up and leave, the dead aunt’s vengeful spirit possesses the child through a demonic doll. Curiously, she also inherits her grandfather’s sexist diatribes. Cathy’s dad can’t imagine his little angel being so cruel, so dismisses her participation in a series of nasty accidents to visitors and potential guardians. Two of the set pieces are especially juicy: when Cathy is introduced to neighbor kids, she persuades them to restage the accident in which her aunt and granddad were turned into toast; later, Cathy gets the old caretaker (Roy Witham) drunk, so that she can sic a menagerie of imaginary critters on him. It gets wilder from there. The new Blu-ray includes the 81-minute U.S. release edit and 91-minute director’s cut); “Tricks and Treats,” an interview with Matalon; “Cathy & Mum,” interviews with Randi Allen and costume designer Joyce Allen; commentary on the U.S. cut by BirthMoviesDeath critic Brian Collins and filmmaker Simon Barrett; and an introduction to Cinematic Void screening at American Cinematheque by Collins.
Lake Eerie shares a few things in common with other thrillers mentioned here, not the least of them being a house that’s revitalized after standing abandoned for a few decades. This time, though, the previous owner mysteriously vanished while on an archeological expedition in Egypt. As if the crazy lady next-door, who delivers muffins to the traumatized widow, isn’t sufficiently ominous, there are neighbors who won’t go near the place and a dark presence that speaks Egyptian and tracks sand all over the hardwood floors. (Although Egyptology does play a role in the narrative, I made up the last two plot points.) If the rest of the story is fairly predictable, we are given a brief glimpse of the always-welcome Lance Hendrickson. The music was supplied by the aforementioned Harry Manfredini (House).
The double-feature packaging of Fear Town, USA and The Slashening is noteworthy only as a reclamation project by Troma. Adding Blu-ray to the presentation does nothing to improve their stories – both directed by Brandon Bassham — but it’s an upgrade from the cheesy audio/visuals already on display to YouTube Red subscribers. “Fear Town” takes place on the fictitious St. Blevins Day holiday, when four boys looking to lose their virginity, a girl haunted by a dark secret, a lonely teenager and an escaped mental patient all meet at a party in the woods. (Exclamation points optional.) In “Slashening,” a slumber party is thrown by best friends Lucy, Eva, Ashley, Beth and Margot … but, as we all know, “MURDER NEVER SLUMBERS!!!!!.” The actresses must have had no-nudity clauses in their contracts, because, sadly, there isn’t any. Troma has enhanced the package with commentary on “Fear Town” and the company’s standard array of promotional features: “Radiation March,” trailers and teasers to more representative products.
Paul M. McAlarney’s The Ungovernable Force is extreme, even by the standards usually applied by Troma, whose films revel in gratuitous sex, violence and about everything else some viewers might consider to be offensive. Some might recall McAlarney’s previous stroke of genius, Hillbilly Holocaust, in which surviving members of the Manson Family leave their bunker, years after Charlie’s death, expecting to enjoy life in post-Helter-Skelter America. As crazy as it was, Honky Holocaust wasn’t completely lacking in entertainment value. I’m not sure the same can be said for The Ungovernable Force, whose links to Troma appear to begin and end with appearances by Debbie Rochon and Lloyd Kaufman, whose voice also was heard in “HH.” Here, A gang of misfit punks teams up with a local community of bums (a.k.a., homeless gentlemen) to defeat a fascist sheriff and his two deputies. The resistance leader, Sal Purgatory (Jake Vaughan), is experiencing the anxiety the comes with becoming an over-the-hill punk and sex-shop employee. The film takes aim at fascism, police brutality, sexism, classism, racism, homophobia and political correctness. The cast includes punk “icons” Steve Ignorant from CRASS, Nick Cash from 999, Steve Lake from Zounds, Mensi from Angelic Upstarts, Paul Russo from the Unseen and Tony Moran (Michael Myers, in the original Halloween). The soundtrack features Flux of Pink Indians, Paranoid Visions, the Kids, Raxola, Who Killed Spikey Jacket and Eskorbuto. No, I haven’t heard of them, either.
Rich Fox’s innovative horror documentary The Blackout Experiments introduces us to a real-life fad in which volunteers, chosen via Facebook, allow themselves to be subjected to all manner of psychological manipulation, abuse and degradation, in an empty commercial space “blacked out” with plastic tarp. After being blindfolded or gagged, the disoriented participants will be treated to forced nudity, verbal abuse, restraints, brief suffocation and waterboarding … just like all of those Taliban rascals. The immersive horror experience, one supposes, helps them locate places in the recesses of their subconscious mind that need a bit of work … either that, or get their rocks off in scary sexual situations. We’re told that the experiments and footage are “100% real.” Like everything else on the planet, we’re also told that the experience can be addictive and some participants need to be weaned off it. The DVD adds deleted scenes, an interview with the Blackout creators and bonus footage.
If anyone deserves a star on a Walk of Fame, it’s sexploitation superstar Misty Mundae. She’s accrued 83 acting credits over the past 20 years — Spider-Babe, Play-Mate of the Apes, The Lord of the G-Strings, Dickshark, among them — and has also dabbled in behind-the-camera work. For a long time, the East St. Louis native drifted between hard- and soft-core assignments, as well as appearing in genre fare. As Erin Brown, she also co-starred in the late-night Skinemax soap, “Lingerie.” In a plot that might have inspired this week’s episode of “Law & Order: SVU,” Sinful imagines Mundae as an infertile woman so desperate for a child that she’s willing to kill for the opportunity to steal the fetus growing inside the womb of a neighbor (Erica Smith). Since skin flicks tend to avoid any mention of pregnancy, then, Sinful is pretty ambitious. A lot of the star’s fans will be put off their feed by the prop fetuses, and the dialogue is frequently absurd. Even so, it’s easy to see that Mundae and Smith are attempting to elevate the drama beyond the limits of the genre. (Why bother?) It includes footage from Erica Smith’s audition; a seven-minute behind-the-scenes segment and six-minute interview with Mundae; two clips from the 2006 New Jersey International Film and Screenplay Festival, including a Q&A, in which Jeff Faoro (Shock-O-Rama Cinema) chats with Mundae and Smith; liner notes written by Merle Bertrand; and commentary with director Tony Marsiglia who discuses writing the screenplay, directing, the cast and the difficulties of shooting a film in five days.
Mundae can be found in the Crimson Nights (1999) package, but only if one makes it as far as the bonus features, in which she co-stars alongside scream queen Ruby LaRocca (Where the Dead Go to Die) in William Hellfire’s 24-minute Peeping in a Girl’s Dormitory (2000). There’s plenty more girl-girl action in the feature, in which Roberta Orlandi (“True Blood”) stars as Susan, a voluptuous woman who embarks upon a sexually charged rampage after being infected with a virulent strain of blood-born plague. It moves from victim to victim like a game of tag played by vampires. Unfortunately, the nudity and shower scenes are the only things Jeffrey Arsenault’s blood fest has going for it. The DVD arrives with a vintage peep show and trailers from the Seduction Cinema vault.
Knowing that the pair of films that comprise Intervision’s Dream Stalker/Death by Love double-feature were shot on video for release on VHS cassettes, it’s easier the cut them some slack. Otherwise, there’d be no reason to spend more than five minutes with either of them. In the former, a Sacramento model is haunted by the corpse of her motocross-racer ex-boyfriend. After rising from the dead, Ricky (Mark Dias) not only revisits Kitty (Diane Cardea) for a midnight quickie, but also to murder her new boyfriend and the undertaker who botched his posthumous makeup session. If, God forbid, a remake were attempted today on a cellphone camera, the visuals in both pictures would look significantly better. The dialogue, acting and cinematography, however, are different stories. Nothing could save them. The original director even took legal action to strike his name from the credits … or, so we’re told in the bonus interviews. Death by Love, at least, benefits from significantly more exposed skin. Producer/director/writer/star/contractor Alan Grant plays a babe-magnet sculptor whose girlfriends all end up dead with their throats ripped open. Meanwhile, he’s being spied upon by an unknown person and followed by a pair of cops. Almost none of it makes any sense and the production values are non-existent. As vanity projects go, however, it qualifies as being so bad, it’s funny. The package comes with featurettes “Remembering Ricky,” with Mark Dias; “Dirt Bike Dreams,” with executive producer Tom Naygrow; “Alan Grant Remembers Death by Love,” via Skype; and “Yvonne Aric and Brad Bishop Remember Death By Love,” via Skype.
For his first feature, Backgammon, Francisco Orvañanos had the great good fortune to rent, borrow or steal the kind of out-of-the-way mansion, in Maine, that other filmmakers and location scouts might wish they’d discovered first and kept word of it to themselves. The hilltop setting provides sparkling long-distance views of the ocean, interrupted only by an unspoiled pasture that angles gently to the rocky coastline and almost demands to be traversed barefooted. The house’s handcrafted fixtures would whet any sophisticated traveler’s appetite for fireside lounging, leisurely dinners and expensive cognac, served in antique crystal snifters. Sadly, most viewers will be left to wonder how such a heavenly spot could be wasted on such an insignificant story. Orvañanos had the right idea, at least. When Ivy League wimp, Lucian (Noah Silver) arrives at the mansion with college friends Andrew (Christian Alexander) and Elizabeth (Olivia Crocicchia), for a weekend vacation, they don’t expect to find Andrew’s kittenish sister, Miranda (Brittany Allen), and her Baudelaire-obsessed boyfriend, Gerald (Alex Beh), already ensconced there. Andrew and Elizabeth decide that five’s a crowd and split early, leaving Lucian to fend with the precocious painter and his flirtatious red-haired muse. Not having read the R.B. Russell’s novella, “Bloody Baudelaire,” from which Backgammon was adapted, it’s difficult to ascertain where the blame for the ensuing exchanges of dopey dialogue ought to be placed. By the end of the second evening, though, Gerald has lost all his nude paintings – for which Miranda modeled — to Lucien in a drunken card game, and completely disappears from view. Taking advantage of his absence, Miranda freely toys with Lucien, who appears to believe that either Gerald and/or his girlfriend are spying on them through a peep hole or hidden camera. Over time, the sexual tension dissipates like the air from a tire with a slow, but persistent leak … just like our curiosity over where Gerald might have gone. The scenery is nice, anyway.
Jules and Saul are best friends at loose ends. Both have recently broken up with their significant others and will soon lose their sources of income. One drinks and the other is trying to stop. They look alike and squabble like brothers. That’s really all we know about Jules and Saul, before being asked to empathize with their plights. Dan Simon, who plays struggling playwright Jules, directed and co-wrote Lonely Boys, with Patrick Davin (The White Russian) and Gregory Lay, who portrays the soon-to-be-divorced Saul. When low-budget indies are this incestuous, they tend to demand things of viewers they haven’t earned, in this case a reason to really care about the characters’ search for happiness. They’re surrounded by convivial and attractive women, but are so consumed with their own problems they eventually wear out their welcome with them, too. Things pick up when the guys leave Brooklyn and head to Connecticut for a beachside weekend and more failed opportunities to heal their wounds. At one point, just as Jules is about to break the ice with a pleasant brunette, he is stricken with an anxiety attack so intense that he’s forced to beg off. I suppose it was meant to be funny, but comes off as just one more inexplicable blunder. Even so, anyone undergoing withdrawal from the final episode of “Girls” might feel right at home with these archetypal millennials.
Claire in Motion
Annie J. Howell and Lisa Robinson’s follow-up to Small, Beautifully Moving Parts, which got some critical attention in 2012, serves the same purpose as a Richter scale as it measures the emotional stability of a woman who’s lost her husband, literally, to forces she and we never quite grasp. Betsy Brandt (“Life in Pieces”) is quite effective as the title character in Claire in Motion, a movie that’s less interested in solving the mystery than painting a portrait of a woman who suddenly realizes that her husband’s lover knows more about him than she does. Both Claire and her husband, Paul, teach at a college in Ohio. He’s in the art department, while she’s a math instructor. When Paul doesn’t come home one night, Claire’s head spins with possible reasons. She knows that he fancies himself to be an amateur survivalist, so she conducts her own search in a nearby forest, where he might have fallen off a cliff and his body could have disappeared from easy view. It isn’t until she goes to his office to retrieve his property that she meets his pretty blond “graduate assistant,” Allison (Anna Margaret Hollyman), who’s almost shockingly forthcoming with information about Paul. She points to a sculpture and drawings representing flight, which make Claire think he took up skydiving to understand more about it. (There’s a metaphor in there, somewhere.) When Allison also picks up on their son’s need to know more about his departed dad, she works with him on some simple sculptures. It’s sad to watch Claire come unglued over her own possible shortcomings, when all signs point to her husband going middle-age crazy and succumbing both to his vanity and the magnetism of a blond half his age. She’s better off without a guy who thinks he can hide out in a state park in frigging Ohio for a few weeks and, suddenly, he’s Robinson Crusoe.
PBS: Masterpiece: To Walk Invisible: The Bronte Sisters: Blu-ray
PBS: Frontline: Divided States of America
PBS Kids: Wild Kratts: Panda-monium
Nickelodeon: Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir: It’s Ladybug
Unlike most BBC mini-series that wind up on PBS affiliates, the two-episode “Masterpiece” presentation “To Walk Invisible: The Bronte Sisters” times in at two easy-on-the-eyes hours. Filmed mostly in ever-gorgeous Yorkshire, with the family’s home village of Haworth being used extensively, Sally Wainwright’s story offers an excellent representation of life around the moorland of scenic Penistone Hill in the 1840s. With the original Parsonage at Haworth not made available for filming, a dead-on replica of it was constructed there. The drama focuses on the relationship of the three Bronte sisters — Charlotte, Emily and Anne — and their artist brother, Branwell, at a critical juncture of the family’s history. With their father half-blind and Branwell struggling with addictions to alcohol, laudanum and opium, the sisters’ dreams of making a living as writers had yet to be realized. They dared not reveal the true identities of the pseudonymous brothers, Acton, Currer and Ellis Bell, but the time was drawing near when they might be required to do so. Wainright introduces the siblings as wildly imaginative children, their minds literally aflame with ideas. By the time they enter their 20s, the sisters’ precocious ambitions are weighed down by Branwell’s decline and their dad’s financial needs. Still, they can’t help but write and prey for a miracle. Finn Atkins, Chloe Pirrie and Charlie Murphy not only are able to capture the sisters’ strikingly different personalities, but they also mimic Branwell’s family portrait, from which he deleted his own image. The title is taken from a clergyman’s observation about Curren Bell’s ability to work in anonymity, “What author would be without the advantage of being able to walk invisible?” The Blu-ray adds background featurettes.
The two-part “Frontline” presentation, “Divided States of America,” examines how President Obama’s promise change and unity was derailed almost as soon as he was inaugurated, by the realities of race-based politics in Washington. As we now know, Republican congressmen vowed early on to cripple every initiative proposed by the White House, for as long as he would be in office, no matter how negotiable they might have been. The perception of Obama outside the capital changed drastically, as well, as he was blamed for his inability to deliver on pledges made during his campaign. Part Two examines racial tensions in America, the war for control of the GOP and the growing dysfunction in Washington, which led to the election of perceived outsider Donald Trump. Today, Trump is facing many of the same obstacles that stymied Obama, in reverse. It’s a provocative documentary, even as our memory of those hopeful days of yesteryear fade into despair.
This time around, in “Wild Kratts: Panda-monium,” kids are invited to join Martin Kratt and Chris Kratt as they learn about some of the amazing features of giant pandas, red pandas, golden pheasants and snowy owls. In these four adventures, the brothers save giant pandas from the evil Zach Varmitech, help to reunite a lost red panda and her mother and save animals captured in China from the villain Donita Donata.
“Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir: It’s Ladybug” describes what happens when Paris is threatened by supervillains and our cartoon heroes are the city’s only hope! With the help of their magical pets, Ladybug and Cat Noir team up to outwit the forces of evil. Their biggest challenge, though, might be getting their alter egos Marinette and Adrien through junior high school.