Moon In The Gutter

My Favorite Closing Shots: The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (1974)

2009-11-23T05:00:00.002-06:00

Behind the Scenes With My Favorite Actors: Sylvester Stallone in Cop Land

2009-11-22T18:39:00.003-06:00

"They just keep their eyes closed and their mouths shut...just like me."

Images From My All Time Favorite Films: Maurice Pialat's Police (1985)

2009-11-18T18:57:00.004-06:00

Behind the Scenes With My Favorite Actors: Jean Seberg in Saint Joan (1957)

2009-11-17T17:15:00.005-06:00

"Shall I arise from the dead and come back to you, a living woman?"

"Murder is Only Killing Without a License."

2009-11-14T16:17:00.015-06:00

There are several things that a person will probably think while watching the 1972 thriller The Mechanic and these include:

1. Charles Bronson was American cinema's ultimate badass.
2. Michael Winner is one of the most underrated directors in recent memory.
3. The lengthy and almost silent opening sequence is one of the seventies best.
4. Keenan Wynn's reputation as one of the finest character actors ever was
well-deserved, and Jan-Michal Vincent deserved a much more distinguished career
than he was granted.
5. Don't even think about crossing Charles Bronson, don't even dream it.

Michael Winner's The Mechanic is one of the great undervalued films from the early seventies. A rich, hypnotic character study of a hired killer whose life is quickly catching up to him, The Mechanic is a terrific thriller boiling over with intensity, style and sheer go for the throat nerve.

Shot on location in Los Angeles and Italy in early 1972, The Mechanic marked the second time that Winner would work with legendary star Charles Bronson after their inventive Chato's Land from earlier in the year. The two would of course go down in screen history just two years after The Mechanic with the unforgettable Death Wish in 1974, as well as its first two sequels in the eighties.

The Mechanic started out life as first a story then a screenplay from talented Lewis John Carlino, the man who penned John Frankenheimer's masterful Seconds in 1966, before being transformed into one of the early seventies most exciting films. The Mechanic tells the tale of veteran hit man Arthur Bishop, a master shot and obsessive planner who is coming apart at the seams due to the stress of his job and the isolation that it has forced him into. He is having crippling panic attacks, and he has entered into a sad relationship with a prostitute who he pays extra to pretend that she has missed him. Looking for a change, Bishop takes on a protege, young hot-shot Steve Mckenna, who has the hunger for the kill that he lost years before but he soon finds that this new direction is perhaps not the right one.

The most remarkable thing about Michael Winner's The Mechanic is that it works as not only a thrilling action film but also as an incredibly successful character study. It is the kind of film that could have only come out of the seventies and it works beautifully throughout its 100 minute running time. Experimental in its approach and surprising at every turn, The Mechanic is a near Avant-garde work that many have mistaken for just pulpy entertainment.

Winner has unfortunately been overlooked by many film fans due to the fact that his greatest and most inventive work has been his most little seen in this country. Chances are more people in America have seen his later disappointing eighties action films, rather than his sublimely intelligent work he made with Oliver Reed in the sixties. The Mechanic comes at an interesting time for Winner, and it shows him still at the top of his game, even though he was working in the Hollywood studio system rather than the great British tradition that he came out of.

Anyone who questions Winner's abilities as a director should watch the audacious dialogue free opening fifteen minutes of The Mechanic, in which we watch as Bronson methodically plans the killing of an old business man. It's a fascinating series of shots set to Jerry Fielding's unforgettable score that is perfectly rendered by Winner's obsessive eye. Bronson's silence has a pulverizing intensity to it and and he, and the sequence, is totally engrossing.

Bronson is incredible throughout the film and gives one of the great performances in his long and distinguished career. A commanding presence and really beautiful man, no one could play a killer constantly on the edge of a breakdown as laid back and cool as Bronson does here. His work in The Mechanic has real excitement to it and it is finally very moving. This guy may be morally bankrupt but there is a poetry in his corruption and collapse that is undeniable. Bronson handles the difficult role like an aging boxer with his talents still in full capacity, and his performance is a beautiful thing to watch.

The film is just filled with great performances. The tragic Jan-Michael Vincent, here at the height of his beauty, is really good as the snide and conceited younger killer. Vincent brings a real cold menace to the part and he works very well with Bronson. A young and lovely Jill Ireland, as the prostitute that Bronson visits, only appears in one scene but it is one of the film's best and she is fine it. Her and Bronson work as well on the screen together as they did in real life. The great character actor Keenan Wynn is always memorable and his role here is no different. His death scene is one of the most brutal and disturbing moments in Winner's filmography. Striking unknown Linda Ridgeway appears in one of the film's most sinister scenes and The Mechanic is apparently her only onscreen role. Beautiful Celeste Yarnall is listed in the opening credits but she can only be spotted during one brief sequence, which makes me think some of her work unfortunately ended up on the cutting room floor.

Fielding's score isn't among his very best but it is still top of the line, and it adds an even greater sense of depth to the film. Winner himself would co-edit the film with fellow Brit Frederick Wilson and their cutting gives the work a real rapid fire pacing. The film's memorable photography was actually shot by not one but two distinctive cinematographers. For the sunny blue sky baked California locations, Winner used Oscar nominated Richard H. Kline who would later give films like Body Heat (1981) and Breathless (1983) a similar feel. For the Italian shoot, Winner brought in his old cinematographer Robert Paynter who would later hit cinematic gold with his work on Superman 2 and several of John Landis' best film, including An American Werewolf in London (1981) and Into the Night (1985).

A perfectly balanced work that literally opens in oppressive silence before ending in an explosive bang, The Mechanic is a fully realized and thought out work that climaxes in a surprising final moment that is one of the great endings of the seventies. Like I said from the get go, don't even think about crossing Charles Bronson.

One of Michael Winner's great works opened up to mostly positive reviews just before Thanksgiving in 1972. It did okay but not spectacular business but it paved the way for Death Wish, a film that would go through the roof for Winner and Bronson two years later.

The Mechanic is thankfully available from MGM in a very sharp widescreen transfer. Unfortunately, outside of the original theatrical trailer, no extras are on the disc. Winner's film has influenced several filmmakers including Luc Besson, John Badham, Quentin Tarantino and most recently Robert Rodriguez; whose great Machete trailer in Grindhouse paid tribute to The Mechanic's original promotional catch-phrase. Winner's picture is a fine film and the entire cast, especially the awesome Charles Bronson, deliver some of their best work. Give the DVD a look if you haven't seen it.

***This piece, with these new screen shots, has been revised from this older one I put together in 2007.***

Images From My All Time Favorite Films: Ingmar Bergman's Shame (1968)

2009-11-12T05:14:00.003-06:00

Behind the Scenes With My Favorite Actors: Burt Reynolds in Deliverance

2009-11-10T05:04:00.002-06:00

"Sometimes you have to lose yourself before you can find anything."

Keep Passing the Open Windows

2009-11-07T07:52:00.022-06:00

Even though he was nearing sixty years old when he shot his adaptation of John Irving's The Hotel New Hampshire in the fall of 1983, Tony Richardson was still artistically at the top of his game with seemingly all of the energy in the world at his disposal. That Richardson had intended to make two films, instead of just the one, from Irving's material shows even clearer that this was a director truly firing on all cylinders in the last period of his remarkable career.
The British born Oscar winning Richardson is unquestionably one of the most important filmmakers who came out of the fifties. His finest works, including the likes of Look Back in Anger (1958), The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner (1962), Tom Jones (1963), The Loved One (1963), and a brave production of Hamlet (1969) show Richardson as a man of great intelligence and seemingly unending talent.
Starting with Ned Kelly in 1970, Richardson's productions seemed to lose their favor with the critical community that had embraced him in the sixties. This says more about the critics than Richardson though as films like A Delicate Balance (1973), Joseph Andrews (1977) and The Border (1982) are all really fascinating and valuable works. Often cited for his visual style, Richardson is not given enough credit for the performances he is able to bring out of his actors, and yet that is something that is apparent in all of his films. Watch, for example, the subtle and restrained work that Richardson draws out of a post The Shining Jack Nicholson in The Border to see this.

After the muted reception granted to The Border, Richardson began planning his double film adaption of one of Irving's most complex works. The Hotel New Hampshire, with its complex story lines, large cast of characters and near epic feel, was thought to be un-adaptable but Irving himself praised Richardson's original scripts as brilliant. Irving spoke in an interview about his admiration for Richardson and his excitement about the film with, "I've never felt as flattered as when Tony Richardson told me he wanted to make a movie of The Hotel New Hampshire, my fifth novel. I loved Tony Richardson's films. He had a range like no one else-- violent or austere one minute, wildly comic the next. The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner and The Loved One, Tom Jones and The Border. I had no doubt what Tony Richardson would do with The Hotel New Hampshire--a macabre comedy and a fairy tale, not half as realistic as The World According to Garp. Tony didn't even pretend to be disappointed when I told him I didn't want to write the screenplay; he wanted to write it himself, which he did."

Unfortunately the studio finally balked at the two picture concept and forced Richardson to make just one film. Refusing to lose too much of Irving's witty original, Richardson created a final 110 minute work that is simultaneously brilliant, flawed, frustrating and inspiring. Had he been allowed to do what he originally planned, I believe the two part The Hotel New Hampshire would have been one of Tony Richardson's great works. As it is, it is one of his most imperfect but still overwhelmingly passionate films.

The Hotel New Hampshire, a work centered on the very dysfunctional Berry family, features one of the greatest ensemble casts of the eighties. The core of the film belongs to a really wonderful Jodie Foster as the brilliant but troubled Frannie Berry, a handsome (and I think quite good) Rob Lowe as her brother John, and Beau Bridges as their ambitious dreamer of a father, Win. Also as part of the family are Paul McCrane, Lisa Banes, Jennifer Dundas and a young Seth Green. Throughout the film we meet a large variety of supporting players including most notably Wallace Shawn as a Mr. Freud and Nastassja Kinski as the paralyzingly insecure Susie The Bear.

Working with talented cinematographer David Watkin, Tony Richardson made the epic feeling The Hotel New Hampshire on a relatively small budget in Canada in that chilly fall of 1983. Things seemed troubled from the start as Richardson not only had to deal with merging two films into one, but he was also forced into shooting in some locations he didn't intend to use. On top of those setbacks, he lost the corporation of the band he wanted to score part of the film, namely Queen (Whose "Keep Passing the Open Windows" was to play a key role in the film).

Everything seemed to work against Richardson, his crew and cast but they all persevered on. Many bonds were formed, including a close friendship between Jodie Foster and Nastassja Kinski, and some were broken but Richardson delivered his film on time, and it was set to go in the early part of 1984.

The Hotel New Hampshire is a slightly off putting film at first, as such it demands reviewing to truly fall under its spell. Certainly some of the subject matter, from rape to incest, is tricky to handle at best, but Richardson's film by design becomes more and more defined the more you watch it. With this in mind, it is easy to see why so many critics savaged it back in 1984 when it hit theaters.

The film is an absolute beauty to look at. Watkin's lovely photography is consistent throughout, and I can't imagine too many people having problems with that aspect of it. The much missed Kent born cinematographer David Watkin is among the most important directors of photography in British Cinema history. He has lensed an astonishing number of wildly diverse and legendary films such as Help, The Knack...and How to Get It, The Devils and Out of Africa. Born in 1925, the Oscar winning Watkin initially got his start working as a cameraman in many British documentaries and commercials. A fateful meeting with director Richard Lester would change everything for him and he was hired for Lester's wonderful The Knack...and How to Get It.

Noted for his innovative work with lighting, Watkin always demonstrated that he can shoot any kind of film in seemingly any kind of condition. Chief among my his finest films that he shot are Ken Russell's The Devils and The Boy Friend. The Boy Friend stands as one of the great examples of how well Watkin can use color while The Devils is perhaps one of the ultimate examples of how light should be used in a film.

The Hotel New Hampshire marked the second time that Watkin had shot Nasatassja Kinski, with the first being 1976's To The Devil a Daughter. Watkin's work on To the Devil a Daughter is quite striking and among its most obvious highlights. Much like Robby Muller he seems to have an inherent understanding of how much power Kinski's face could project, and he photographs her wonderfully in both To the Devil a Daughter and The Hotel New Hampshire.

Watkin's work on Tony Richardson's The Hotel New Hampshire features some of the lushest and purest photography of his life. Speaking from a total layman's point of view when it comes to the art of photography, there is just something really warm about his work with Richardson. Kinski's Susie The Bear is one of her great roles and she is photographed wonderfully in the film, with Watkin's understated style helping to bring out all of the vulnerability, doubt and finally emerging self confidence that Kinski projects.

Watkin would go onto to shoot many films throughout the late eighties and nineties but unfortunately he never worked with Kinski or Richardson again. He shot some lovely underrated films in the nineties including Jane Eyre but he will undoubtedly be most remembered for his work in the sixties and seventies with directors like Lester and Russell. His last film according to IMDB was the little seen Kirsten Dunst feature, All Forgotten. Ironic title for his final film considering the term 'forgotten' will never be used in describing the incredible career of David Watkin.

Back to The Hotel New Hampshire, Richardson's direction has been called erratic here, but I think it is more a case of him embracing once again all of the power and invention that so defined his greatest years in the sixties. Like a free-form jazz musician playing with time signatures and bending notes into something near alien, Richardson's direction of The Hotel New Hampshire is fresh, inventive, purposely sloppy at times, and never dull. It is the penultimate, near great, theatrical work by a very talented filmmaker, and it didn't deserve the savaging it got back in 1984.

The cast of The Hotel New Hampshire is indeed quite extraordinary. Jodie Foster was at a weird transition point in her career but you can already see her developing into America's best actress. She is saucy, sad, funny, and very human in the part of Frannie. I like Rob Lowe a lot here too. He is forced to play kind of the calm at the center of a very electric storm, and his work is very centered and very solid. The likes of Beau Bridges, Wallace Shawn, Matthew Modine, and Anita Morris seem incapable of giving weak performances and that is no different here, as they are all splendid.

The casting of Kinski in the role of Susie The Bear was much talked about, and it remains the most controversial of the film. In the book, the character was short, homely, and dirty. It was easy to see why she would be so insecure as to wear a bear suit to disguise her ugliness...but Nastassja Kinski? Why would Tony Richardson cast one of the most beautiful women in cinematic history in this part?

What could be more devastatingly sad and tragic, than an unquestionably beautiful person so wrapped up with inner turmoil, self doubt and insecurities that she literally hides herself from the world behind a mask? Richardson had the idea that someone who was completely wrong about themselves would be much more effective than someone who was right. Susie The Bear in Richardson's film doesn't hide herself because she is ugly, she hides herself because she thinks she is ugly. There is a big, and profound, difference there. Kinski is asked to do the impossible here, namely to make you believe that she thinks she is so hideous that she should hide inside a bear costume. Kinski delivers on this completely, and gives the most fragile but cutting work of her career. The role had a big impact on Kinski and she would tell The Washington Post that, "...it touched something deep...What is reality and what Susie sees about herself are two different things. Something melts inside Susie so she can take off the bear suit. This happened to me. There is a beauty about myself that I never saw, or I rejected, until recently."

The film had few supporters at the studio but John Irving admitted that, "I liked the movie nonetheless. Tony's interpretation of the novel as sexual cancan is a much more suitable translation of my sense of humor than Steve Tesich's dialogue in The World According to Garp. But, to most audiences, The Hotel New Hampshire was not nearly as successful a film as Garp. Only in some countries in Europe was it more popular, which may have been the result of Hotel being more popular in parts of Europe as a book, too--I mean more popular than Garp."

Many critics had there knives sharpened and out for Richardson and his young cast. Frankly the little respect I had left for critics like Vincent Canby and Rex Reed has vanished completely after reading their incredible rude and sexist comments concerning Jodie Foster's appearance in The Hotel New Hampshire. Canby wrote, "she had better watch those malteds between classes at Yale" while Rex Reed added, "Foster is pasty, pudgy and too asexual to attract gnats". Way to review the film at hand you self absorbed twits.

The film's mixed reception saw mild praise coming from the likes of Shelia Benson, Richard Combs and John Coleman and absolute hatred from the likes of David Denby and Andrew Sarris, who wrote in The Village Voice: ""A funny thing happened on my way to reviewing The Hotel New Hampshire, I encountered some people who actually liked it! Why would, how could, anyone enjoy this botched mess, this shambles of a movie? Kinski, for once pleasantly at home in a wildly disorganized circus in which she does not have to labor in vain to make sense as a character...I would have had serious problems with The Hotel New Hampshire even if it had been a better movie...the wrong reasons for liking it (are) cultural snobbery, generational complacency, moral flabbiness, and the nihilism of convenience."

The Hotel New Hampshire opened up in the spring of 84 and disappeared soon after. The film is currently available on a sharp looking Widescreen DVD, with only the trailer as an extra. It is a rewarding if, at times, gloriously frustrating experience that gets better and better with each viewing. The great Tony Richardson would complete just one more theatrical picture in his life, the Jessica Lange film Blue Sky, before passing away in the early nineties. While The Hotel New Hampshire isn't one of his greatest films, it is one of his most heartfelt and inventive. It occupies its own very special place in Richardson's important filmography...needless to say, it deserves another look.

***I cobbled this piece together from several older ones at Nostalgia Kinky.***

Behind the Scenes With My Favorite Actors: Sean Young in Blade Runner

2009-11-03T19:36:00.003-06:00

"The egg hatched...and a hundred baby spiders came out... and they ate her."

American Grindhouse Trailer and Website

2009-11-02T17:22:00.005-06:00

The first official trailer for the guaranteed to be classic American Grindhouse is now at IMDB for those interested. The film, from director Elijah Drenner, looks absolutely fascinating and the official website is also well worth visiting. The unbelievably impressive list of contributors can be seen at the films official IMDB page, and I frankly can't wait to see it.

Images From My All Time Favorite Films: Paul Schrader's Blue Collar (1978)

2009-11-01T18:46:00.005-06:00

"They pit the lifers against the new boy and the young against the old. The black against the white. Everything they do is to keep us in our place."

***Dedicated to Richard Pryor***

Miracle Man: Michael Jackson's This Is It

2009-11-01T08:09:00.004-06:00

Michael Jackson’s This Is It is one of the most powerful closing chapters in pop music history, and the fact that it chronicles a work in progress makes it all the more startling. A heroic effort assembled in an unbelievably short time span by the concert’s co-mastermind Kenny Ortega, This Is It is a stunning experience that incorporates song, dance, theater and cinema in a wholly unique way. This Is It is, as far as I am concerned, the film of the year.
This Is It wisely never mentions the tragic passing of Michael Jackson earlier this year, but its hard to watch the film without looking for the cracks we all thought we would see. They simply aren’t there though and the most shocking thing about This Is It is just how incredibly together Michael Jackson is throughout it. This is a man seemingly in full charge of both his art and life, and This Is It only makes the mystery surrounding his final year and death more unsolvable. Jackson looks, acts and sounds like a man fully revitalized; an artist on the cusp of what might have been his greatest moment.
While Ortega’s film is clearly a celebration of the music, talent and artistry of Michael Jackson, it is also a great tribute to the phenomenally talented artists on stage and off Jackson had assembled for his final tour. Perhaps the key moment of the film comes during a thrilling moment when Jackson is coaxing a more soaring guitar solo out of the already absolutely sizzling ax of Orianthi Panagaris. Jackson urges the uber-talented guitar player, who will blow everyone’s minds during "Beat It", to play harder and harder as he repeats, “This is your moment to shine” like a mantra, and indeed in This Is It Jackson and Ortega allows everyone to have their shining moment. The film might be dedicated “To the Fans” but it seems more than anything a salute to a group, who became a family, that never got to fully unleash their vision the way it should have been presented.

This Is It has so many spectacular moments that it is hard to really choose a favorite. Certainly the new "Smooth Criminal" video that allows Jackson to star in a film with Rita Hayworth and Humphrey Bogart is among the film’s finest moments, as is the making of the new "Thriller" 3-D film, but the film really sparkles the most when it just focuses on Jackson and his group. The film’s most powerful scenes occur when Michael Jackson takes center stage armed with nothing but that unforgettable voice, and those jaw-dropping dance moves, that even the most nightmarish personal circumstances could not strip from him.
While it is hard not to feel frustrated and cheated at times that This Is It will never be seen as Jackson intended it to be, Ortega’s film allows us the privilege of watching Michael Jackson at work creating his totally unique and original vision. The film shows us a man who knows exactly what he wants from himself and the people around him. It also shows a smart and charismatic man who clearly loves the artists he is working with and, even in the moments when he is having trouble communicating the sound or image that he wants, he chooses to approach it with love and passion over any egotistical rudeness. This Is It perhaps offers us the greatest example of what Michael Jackson the person was like but, at the same time, it also deepens the inscrutability of the man. How is it possible, knowing what we know about those final months, that this deeply troubled man was capable of still being so brilliant and transcendent? That question will never be answered, but one unequivocal answer we do have now is this: Michael Jackson was a man and artist that had a lot more life left in him.

I got very choked up several times throughout This Is It’s running time, but each time I nearly lost it I was enveloped by the excitement and pleasure that only great art can give you. Michael Jackson’s life might have ended tragically, but This Is It presents him triumphant once again. There is a moment towards the end of this film, where Michael is alone on stage singing "Billie Jean" and he starts dancing, and you can feel the energy and creativity just pouring out of the man as he revisits one of his most legendary moments. Covered in sweat but appearing incapable of exhaustion, Jackson dances for the small crowd like he is performing for the world and it is one of the most joyous moments I have ever seen in a film. This Is It is a remarkable achievement deserving of all of the acclaim it is getting right now. As a documentary it is masterful film, as a work documenting one of the greatest artists we will ever see it is absolutely indispensable.

2009-10-31T08:18:00.000-06:00

Behind the Scenes With My Favorite Actors: Joe Spinell in William Lustig's Maniac (1980)

2009-10-31T08:12:00.004-06:00

"You have to be careful, not to listen to me. But I can't live like this. I have to go out and each time it's like this."

***Stills taken from the absolutely essential special edition DVD.***

The Class of ‘84 Blogathon: Wes Craven's A Nightmare on Elm Street

2009-10-25T17:49:00.015-06:00

***This is my contribution to The Class of ‘84 Blogathon that is being hosted by the always terrific This Distracted Globe.***

While many of my favorite horror films that I grew up with are now mostly just products of my own nostalgia, a few still manage to thrill, terrify and scare me the same way they did when I first experienced them as a youth. A key film from my teenage years that continues to haunt me is Wes Craven’s enduring A Nightmare on Elm Street, an ingenious work that hasn’t lost its ability to shock twenty-five years after it first terrified audiences in 1984.
Often undervalued by film fans and critics, Wes Craven is one of the few American directors who managed to delivery seminal works in not just two, but three different decades. Regardless of some career inconsistencies, his Last House on the Left, The Hills Have Eyes, A Nightmare on Elm Street and Scream continue to resonate in popular culture to this day. His greatest works continue to be some of the most copied films in modern American cinema as well as some of the stylish. He was never greater though than he was in 1984 when he warned audiences around the world to not go to sleep.
The genesis of A Nightmare on Elm Street is the stuff of film legend now so there isn’t much need of going into much detail on it here. After getting the idea of from a 1981 Los Angeles Times story about a youth who was convinced he would be killed if he fell asleep, Craven began shopping around what would become his most legendary film to every studio that looked like they might have a partially open door for him. After being turned down by everyone he pitched to for nearly three years, Craven was finally given the green light by the visionary Bob Shay at the young New Line Cinema, a company hungry for a defining hit.
Indeed it was the defining hit that both New Line and Wes Craven needed. It was one of those films that seemed to instantly catch fire with film fans, and its critical (albeit mixed) and popular success was more than justified. While most of the mid eighties horror flicks have long since faded from memory, A Nightmare on Elm Street and Freddy Krueger continue to loudly reverberate.
Like Halloween and Friday the 13th, the power of the original A Nightmare on Elm Street has been partially diminished by its highly inferior sequels. While most of them are inconsequential to say the least, I will always stand by Part 3’s The Dream Warriors as being one of the most flat out entertaining horror films of the eighties (not to mention the fact that it introduced the world to the wonderful Patricia Arquette), and I quite admire Craven’s own New Nightmare as well. The diminished returns of the majority of the sequels (and the dreaded remake on the horizon) shouldn’t take away from the power of Craven’s original film. A Nightmare on Elm Street remains a masterful piece of filmmaking from a clearly frustrated artist looking to unleash a very clear, personal and quite startling vision.
I have elected to not write any sort of review or history of the film. Instead I just wanted to offer up a tribute in stills to some of my favorite moments, and offer a big thank you to Wes Craven for creating such a wonderfully provocative and entertaining work. I will always love this film...

Under a Precise and Colorful Sky: The Saga of Pierre Koralnik's Anna

2009-10-22T07:29:00.013-06:00

Serge Gainsbourg was professionally riding high at the dawn of 1965. Announcing quite boldly that he was ready to throw himself into “rock…real rock”, the already popular French singer, songwriter and actor set in motion a new direction that would reach its stunning peak, just over five years later, with the release of the mind-blowing Histoire de Melody Nelson album. Gainsbourg had a ways to go though and the two-minute 45 that began the explosion was the delightfully catchy “Poupee De Cire”, a Eurovision winner sang by the absolutely scrumptious and always captivating France Gall.

While the first France Gall collaboration in 1965 was a small triumph for Gainsbourg, he found himself growing more and more frustrated as the year progressed. He had never been more popular with the public, but his personal life was scattering as his marriage to then wife Beatrice was disintegrating. By the end of the year, France’s most popular songwriter was an exhausted artist who needed a break from marriage and, briefly, the public eye. He found that respite at the apartment of a friend named Pierre Koralnik, a young Swiss filmmaker who offered his pad to Gainsbourg so the struggling artist could effectively get refueled.

Author Sylvie Simmon’s notes in her entertaining Serge Gainsbourg: A Fistful of Gitanes that tension arose between the two young roommates fairly quickly, when Koralnik criticized Gainsbourg for offering up too much mediocre material to singers not worth the vinyl they were being pressed on. Gainsbourg had reasons though for his prolific songwriting period between 1966 and 1967, which was namely to open “up the record market” to release “whatever he liked.” The gamble paid off and, by 1967, Serge was ready to begin one of the most remarkable periods for any popular musician ever, a five year span that would see him creating some of the most astonishing and influential albums of the era (first with Brigitte Bardot and then with Jane Birkin). Before Gainsbourg was entranced and then shattered by Bardot he wrote the music for, and acted in, the spectacular television film Anna, a visionary work Koralnik had crafted with the help of writer Jean-Loup Dabadie.

A propulsive pop-art masterpiece featuring eye popping color and one of the best soundtracks of the sixties, Anna (1967) is a miracle of a film, and the fact that it was originally made for television and not the big screen makes it one of the most head scratching curiosities of the sixties.

Originally planned as a vehicle for red-hot British singing sensation Marianne Faithfull, Anna was granted its perfect heroine when Jean-Luc Godard’s muse and then wife Anna Karina came on board. Joining the luminous and haunting Karina was the wonderful and handsome Jean-Claude Brialy starring as Serge, a hip young ad exec who becomes positively entanced by a photograph of a mysterious young woman who he becomes obsessed with tracking down.

With New Wave icons Karina and Brialy aboard, Anna stands as one of the most bizarre chapters in a delirious period of filmmaking that would see the original directors of the famed French movement scattering in dramatic, and often antagonist, ways. Koralnik was not part of the New Wave, but there is no denying its influence on Anna, specifically Godard’s stunning 1961 colorful masterpiece A Woman is a Woman, a musical satire which Karina had also graced with her delightful presence.

Anna is a wonderfully hard production to pin down. Savage satire mixed with a sweet love story and frenzied comedy crossed with surrealistic fantasy, Anna in its own way is one of the most confrontational films of the period. More than anything else though it is a brilliant musical, filled with some of the most exciting songs of Serge Gainsbourg’s career. It is also a tribute to the great beauty of Anna Karina and Jean-Claude Brialy, as well as being both a homage and critique to our fascination with such perfection in pop culture.

While either Karina and Brialy feature in almost every shot in Anna, a couple of other welcome faces pop up as well, including Marianne Faithfull who was able to make time in her incredibly frantic schedule to film one of Anna's most memorable scenes. French singing sensation Eddy Mitchell also appears in a crowded and dizzying party sequence.

Perhaps the real star of Anna, outside of Gainsbourg’s score and Karina’s face, is the dazzling photography of cinematographer Willy Kurant. The talented Kurant, who has worked with everyone from Jean-Luc Godard to Pink Floyd, is at the top of his game here and Anna is absolutely astounding to look at. Kurant’s photography is so vivid, and the costume designs of Lison Bonfils and Anne Frantz are so spectacular to look at, that they almost overwhelm the fact that Koralnik’s film is at its heart a rather biting satiric look at the often shallow and materialistic place the world was becoming in 1967. Who’s kidding who though, as Anna is also a firm celebration of that world, a contradiction that makes it all the more entrancing all these years later.

With its extraordinarily bizarre dance sequences, catchy and altogether tremendous Gainsbourg score and a haunting final sequence that foreshadows Bob Fosse’s ferociously autobiographical All That Jazz by well over a decade, Anna is impossible to take your eyes off of. It is, simply put, one of the most perfectly realized and rendered works of the sixties.

The imaginative Koralnik has mostly remained in television throughout his career, but he has a couple of features to his credit including the masterful and intense Cannabis (1970), one of the most memorable films the unstoppable team of Gainsbourg and Birkin made together. His greatest work, Anna, would be a hit on French television (and in some French theaters) but one has to wonder what its impact would have been on the worldwide big-screen. Serge Gainsbourg barely took a moment to ponder on its possible impact to the viewers who saw it that summer of 67, as all things Bardot soon entranced him. Anna probably became a fading memory fairly quickly for those involved but it remains a captivating experience, and one that seems specific to the sixties, as something this alive and colorful would have been all but impossible at any other point in time.

"Someone Was Wandering Around the House Last Night...I Didn't Sleep"

2009-10-15T15:14:00.029-06:00

Sometimes the mind fractures…that’s the thought that had been plaguing Linda since her mother had died, under mysterious circumstances, earlier that particularly cold year. In an attempt to sort out the memories haunting her, Linda decides to take up residence in a retirement home that her mom had willed to her. Linda's feeling of renewal soon cracks as some of the residents begin dying mysteriously. Attempting to find out what or whom is killing the residents, Linda begins remembering things from her thoroughly ruptured past, as well as having visions of a seemingly tragic future.

A hypnotic and altogether startling Australian film from 1982, Next of Kin is the very definition of a buried cinematic treasure. Directed memorably by former cinematographer Tony Williams and starring actress Jacki Kerin, Next of Kin is a dazzling achievement in style and vision, and its relatively little known status is troubling to say the least.

Almost as mysterious as Next of Kin's storyline is why the career of Tony Williams didn’t go further. A little known filmmaker outside of Australia, Williams has only two films to his credit as a director, with 1978’s Solo being his lone feature outside of Next of Kin. New Zealand born Williams first cinematic credits appeared during the sixties as the cinematographer on 1964’s Runaway and 1966’s Don’t Let it Get You, both for director John O’Shea. After working as an editor briefly in the early seventies, Williams’ filmography is a blank up until Solo in the late part of the decade. Next of Kin feels like a film by a very seasoned pro at the top of their game, so the fact that it was made by a relative novice makes it all the more impressive. Also the fact that Williams has only worked in commercials since is major loss for modern cinema, as Next of Kin is an incredibly intelligent film that successfully blends style and substance at every surprising turn.

Next of Kin started out life as a script from the pen of Williams and Michael Heath, a man whose other credits include 1982’s The Scarecrow and 1984’s Death Warmed Up. Borrowing stylistic and thematic elements from Bava’s Kill Baby Kill (1966), Polanski’s The Tenant (1976) and especially Kubrick’s The Shining (1980), which hit Australia just before Christmas in 1980, Next of Kin reminds me also of Jose Larraz’s chilling and equally masterful 1974 film Symptoms. Like Larraz’s powerful film, Next of Kin vividly deals with a leading female character who may or may not be teetering on the edge of madness. It’s an unreliability that lends a tension to Next of Kin that is palatable from the first scene on, and Williams strong work as a director who understands implicitly the importance of including an emotional weight to even the most stylish shots makes the film a really jaw-dropping achievement.

Williams directorial hand and editorial choices are extremely well done throughout the film as he allows long stretches of silence to perfectly coincide with his leads more meditative moments. Williams also understands how to counter the film’s incredibly quiet and brooding tone with scenes of absolute hysteria, all of which are accompanied by the unforgettable electronic compositions of legendary German composer Klaus Schulze. It is these moments of dreamlike madness that really sets the film apart from just another thriller, as Williams comes up with some truly disturbing images that will linger in the viewers mind (and nightmares) days after watching the film.

Shot beautifully by Australian cinematographer Gary Hansen, who had lensed the underrated Harlequin for director Simon Wincer just two years earlier, Next of Kin is as visually memorable as any other down under production from the period. With its rich tones and wonderfully evocative color scheme, Next of Kin would have been an impressive work even without the thoughtfulness of Williams' direction and script. The fact that the film, despite a relatively low budget, is indeed a fully rounded work thematically as well as stylistically makes it a triumph for everyone involved.

In front of the camera, the actors Williams assembled for his second and sadly final directorial credit all deliver solid and at times resounding work. The wonderful Jacki Kerin, a terrific actress whose credits have mostly been in television, controls Next of Kin with a haunting and beautifully rendered performance. Like Angela Pleasance in Symptoms, Kerin breaths life into what could have been a stock heroine on the edge performance. Top actor John Jarrett, who Picnic at Hanging Rock fans will immediately recognize, delivers fine work as well for Williams even though the film is Kerin’s movie all the way.

While the film is a striking work thoughout its under ninety minute running time, Williams really pulls out all the stops with an stunning final section that is incredibly well rendered in its execution. From a dare you to blink slow motion sequence featuring an above shot of Kerin running down a hall to an incredibly bizarre, but brilliant, moment involving a collapsing sugar cube pyramid, Next of Kin's final sequences and set pieces would have made even Kubrick proud.

Next of Kin would garner a severe mixed critical reaction, and it wasn’t a huge hit with the public upon its initial release. It did win a couple of festival prizes and it has taken on a small but well deserved cult following over the years. Available on DVD in Australia, Next of Kin has still yet to have an official release anywhere else in the world. It’s a prime candidate for special edition treatment, and it would be wonderful if a company like Blue Underground or Severin could get a hold of it for a proper release.

The film was mentioned, and the stunning last shot was celebrated, in the tremendous documentary Not Quite Hollywood recently, and Quentin Tarantino is a huge fan of the film, calling it ‘mesmerizing’ to an Australian reporter a couple of years back. Tarantino's one word critique is right on the money, and if Next of Kin ever does get a wide DVD release then get ready as this is a major cult film waiting to happen. Powerful, chilling, moving and unbelivably haunting, Next of Kin is one of the best Australian films of the eighties...seek it out.

Out of Sight (Through October At Least)

2009-09-28T08:20:00.003-06:00

Since I started Moon in the Gutter, nearly three years ago, I have not let a week go by without at least a few postings. It's been, and continues to be, a wonderful experience but I have to admit that I have a severe case of Internet Burnout. In order to sort some sections of my life out I have recently moved back to the one place in the world that I feel at home at, and I am experiencing a wave of happiness and relief that I haven't felt in a couple of years. This has been a rough year for me physically, spiritually and mentally and right now all I want to do is take a step back and breathe again. So, for the first time in its existence I am going to be taking a break from Moon in the Gutter (or any other online activity) for probably a month or so. This is not a goodbye as I will return (perhaps even sooner than November if I can get mentally and physically refueled) but for right now I just can't sit here and stare at this screen anymore. I hope the folks who have stuck with me will continue to do so through this little break, and again I can't express how much I appreciate the comments and support. The fact that some of my favorite writers, actors and directors have stopped by here and read something I have written still fills me with feelings of happiness and gratitude that I can't even express.
So, again, this is not a goodbye. Moon in the Gutter will return probably around the beginning of November, or maybe late October, with a renewed sense of self and with probably more of an emphasis on quality over quantity. Thanks to all my friends I have made through this site, and I will be back soon.

Images From My Favorite Films of the Decade: Thomas Vinterberg's It's All About Love (2004)

2009-09-24T08:09:00.006-06:00

Because sometimes you just have to go out on the line for a film you believe in, no matter how much it is universally hated...and I really believe in this film.

Behind the Scenes With My Favorite Actors: Pierre Clémenti in Partner

2009-09-23T19:14:00.004-06:00

"This is the dark room, or at least that's what I call it."

Marquee Memories: Taxi Driver (1976)

2009-09-22T17:50:00.009-06:00

That Summer of ’76 had been the loneliest you had ever known. The months dragged along, and the days just got hotter and hotter, as you drifted from one theater to another searching...searching for the ghost of the girl who had overdosed in your bed earlier in the spring. Not able to find her, you mostly found yourself alone in scuzzy adult theaters during the day, because you got some odd comfort from being surrounded by all those other lonely men.

You occasionally made it into the night, and the first time you saw him was when he took you to a double bill of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Return of the Dragon. You knew his name was Travis cause you could see it on his taxi license in front of you, but you two barely exchanged a word as he drove you to the theater. You recognized him though as he was one of those other lonely men who haunted those films during the day. You almost mentioned the coincidence to him but, before you could, you were already on the street watching his cab drive away.

You saw him throughout the summer, as the days grew even longer and more painful. You had taken to popping as many pain pills as you could afford to buy on the street, and one night in a daze you almost stepped out in front of his taxi after seeing a Swedish import called Anita. Gone to the point of being out, you made your way hazily into the heat drenched night.

By the mid part of the summer you had mostly stopped going to the adult shows, as the faces of the men who sat close seemed to look more and more like yours. Not so surprisingly it was across the street from one of those porno houses where you saw Travis again, going in and quickly coming out with the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. You could see they were fighting as you made your way across the street towards them, away from the double shot of Bucktown and The Eiger Sanction you had just seen. As the beautiful blonde rushed away in a cab, Travis briefly glanced at you, with some recognition, but before you could say anything he was gone again into the sweat-soaked streets of the New York night.

You didn’t see Travis again for a couple of months but you had read about him. Ironically his meltdown, no matter how heroic the papers made it out to be, helped set you back on a better track. You were surprised to see him one last time when he picked you up again to take you to another downtown movie. The back of the cab smelled like sweet perfume and, at one point, you thought he grinned at you in his rearview mirror, but you decided that it was just your new found sobriety playing a trick on you.

You elected to skip a last stand at the porn house you both used to visit, and instead you had him stop at a place showing Rudy Ray Moore’s Dolemite. In need of a good laugh you felt like it was the perfect choice for the evening, which of course it was. Hopping out of the cab to pay, you were shocked when Travis reset the meter and said, “It’s on me brother, it’s on me.” Not having even a moment to thank him, you watched his cab drive down the street into the city. You stood and watched it until it was just two small red dots in the distance melting into yellow. You nodded silently to yourself, as you realized you would never see him again.

Behind the Scenes With My Favorite Actors: Theresa Russell in Bad Timing

2009-09-22T15:02:00.004-06:00

"I'm not ambitious, not an artist, not a poet, not a revolutionary."

***These stills are a small sampling of the hundreds found on Criterion's tremendous special edition of this film.***

An Interview at Out 1

2009-09-22T14:47:00.003-06:00

James Hansen has posted a terrific interview with award winning documentary filmmaker Stewart Copeland over at Out 1 that I wanted to invite everyone to check out. Here is the link and great job James on Out 1's first ever Q&A.

Images From My All Time Favorite Films: Dario Argento's The Stendhal Syndrome (1996)

2009-09-21T07:15:00.003-06:00

Behind the Scenes With My Favorite Actors: Richard Roundtree in Shaft

2009-09-20T18:06:00.003-06:00

"I got to feeling like a machine, and that's no way to feel."