Pokerface11 Reviews

The Pride of the Yankees (1942)

Slipshod account of great man

[1/10 · 13 March 2006]

I've read through the reviews of fans of this film. All I can conclude is 1) they are reviewing Lou Gehrig, not the film, 2) they love Lou Gehrig so much that they are willing to forgive this film everything, and 3) they really saw a different movie.

This is a terrible film, hastily rushed to the fans who lost their hero the previous year. Cooper plays Gehrig as a rightie (take note of how he signs everything); a sportswriter (?), not his wife or parents are with Lou when he finds out he's dying (what an ego Gallico had); and Babe Ruth makes sure he's in the frame at the start of Gehrig's final address to the fans at Yankee Stadium (what a jerk!). Just about every fact--all available to the writers at the time--was toyed with for no apparent reason. I could go on and on about the problems with this film. Gehrig deserves better than its cheap sentimentality.

Something Wild (1961)

A Muddle of the Worst Kind

[2/10 · 17 January 2006]

I am absolutely dumbfounded that people think this film is a masterpiece, better than "Kiss Me Deadly" and "Baby Doll". I wasn't offended by its absurd treatment of a rape victim--obviously she had Stockholm Syndrome. There can be no other explanation for why she ended up with Meeker. Oh, and the fact that they were both nuts! But, because they were EMOTING internally, we were supposed to believe that this is a deep movie. It could have been great if she had jumped off the bridge and that was the end of the film--or any plot other than love conquering all. And what a lame dream sequence! What a waste of a psychologically complex and beautiful score by Aaron Copland and great NYC locations. What a waste of Baker and Meeker! That script never should have gotten out the Actor's Studio workshop. What a complete muddle.

Opening Night (1977)

Debunking the Myth of Improvisation

[1 December 2004]

Opening Night is my favorite Cassavetes, and I feel it is my duty to debunk the notion that those or any of his films aside from Shadows was strictly improvised. In fact, his films were tightly scripted after actor improvisation was used to contribute to his ideas. The coherence of a film like Opening Night, the development of the themes of aging, vanity, and hope, could not just spring from the improvisational head of even the very fine actors in the movie. If you pay attention to the dialogue (outside of the lines in the play), it is obvious that much care was taken to craft them (e.g., the scene where Myrtle explains to the playwright what problems she is having with the character and script).

Whose Is This Song? (2003)

Same Song, Different Ears

[8/10 · 9 April 2004]

This morning as I drove to work, I heard a recording of Paul Robeson singing during his triumphal return to Carnegie Hall in 1958. He took on the second movement of Dvorak's "New World Symphony," set to words. The song was called "Goin' Home," and had a gospel feel (going home to the Lord). I bring this up because the song moved me near to tears (possibly some hormonal involvement) and because this adaptation of a well-known piece of music to a personal expression and experience reminded me of the film I saw last night, "Whose Song Is This?"

The director, Adela Peeva, got the idea for the film one night when she was having dinner with some friends, all from different Balkan countries. The band in the restaurant started playing a song, and everyone at Peeva's table claimed that the song was from their country. How could this be? Peeva became intrigued with the idea of tracking down the origins of the song, and perhaps using it to start building ties that bind between these painfully divided countries by demonstrating that there is a foundation for a common cultural heritage.

She traveled to Turkey, Greece, Albania, Bosnia & Herzegovina, Serbia, Macedonia, and back to Bulgaria. In each location, she heard the song and claims that the song was Bosnian, Greek, etc etc. In most of the countries, it was a love song. In Turkey and Serbia, it inspired films, the first reminiscent of "The Student Prince," the second a peepshow cross between the story of Carmen and a Bollywood film. A number of people claimed to know the women who inspired the songs, even claiming to be related. Other versions of the song carried religious lyrics with jihad written all over them. A few people Peeva interviewed knew a fair amount about music. One said he believed the song to be a centuries old folk song that was probably Turkish.

Peeva played the song for a group of Serbians. She picked the wrong version (Bosnian), however, and they walked out on her and threatened her. The film ends with Peeva talking to her Bulgarian countrymen celebrating an historical battle against the Ottoman Turks. She mentioned that the song might be Turkish. She was threatened with lynching. The film ends with night shots of fireworks, which set a field on fire. Silhouettes of people beating back the flames with tree branches can be see, intercut with drunken revellers apparently oblivious to the dangerous situation behind them. I don't think there could be a better metaphor for the Balkans. Ms. Peeva, in a very simple exercise, painted an indelible and tragic portrait of a hopeless region.

Japan (2002)

Live a Little!

[25 April 2003]

All the gloomy, significant intonations about this film. I'm starting to think being a film geek means not having a sense of humor. This film is the blackest kind of comedy that isn't all that funny but is quite observant. The entire set-up is absurd. If the director had a more developed sense of humor, we'd be comparing this to Bunuel. Perhaps he meant it to be taken as a deep meditation on life, death and the sh*t that happens. If so, then it is just a standard-issue indie film in the Mexican mold. I saved myself from utter boredom by imagining Adam Sandler in the lead role. It works.

Vera (2003)

A revelation

[15 April 2003]

Vera is a visionary tour de force that evokes the exhilarating cinematic madness of surrealist mindbenders like Jean Cocteau, David Lynch, Alejandro Jodorowsky and Andrei Tarkovsky. While possessing its own psychedelic loopiness, Vera definitely takes its place among classic "head movies" as El Topo, Viva La Muerte and Eraserhead.

Vera, while having a profound inner intelligence, follows the seemingly random flow and rhythm of dreams. Whether it posseeses meaning or not (it does), Vera needs no justification. Like all great art, the act of seeing is enough. Vera 's plot is minimal: an old man is trapped in a cave, the walls and ceiling of which have collapsed. The man may or may not have been killed. What follows could be a dream, a shaman's ayahuasca vision, a death trip, let your imagination take you where it may. What we see is a blue-skinned extraterrestrial/ally/guide, the Virgin Mary, hot Aztec sex, a dancing skeleton, a severed penis, a digitized Jesus and a myriad of tryptamine-like hallucinations, visions and symbols. Vera might be interpreted as a passage through death - a Bardo experience that kaleidoscopically spins out images of the afterlife, including those of the Tibetan and Egyptian Books of the Dead, Mayan myth, the binary code and Catholic purgatory. Director Athie's cosmic point of view exists in the same realm as Carlos Castaneda's peyote trips, Artaud's yage meta-mindf*cks and shroom guru Terence McKenna's dmt-fueled riffs on the links between Mayan symbolism and visitors from outer space. On the visual tip, Athie has made magical use of natural locations: awe-inspiring scenes of the mountains of Yucatan and some fantastic underground caverns. Brilliant cinematography and seamless computer-generated imagery add to the overall lysergic intensity of Athie's vsion. If you're interested in seeing what kind of movie Spielberg or Lucas might create after eating a few dozen psilocybin mushrooms, seek out Vera. It is a cult classic just waiting to be discovered.

Vera features a stunning performance by Urara Kusanigi, a world renowned butoh dancer. Her otherwordly beauty and ethereal grace is reminiscent of the female ghosts in Kwaidan. She got her weight down to 57 pounds for her role as the blue-skinned guide. The film was shot by Ramon Saurez, the cinematographer of such classics as Alea's Memeories Of The Underdevelopement, Arrabel's Guernica and Ruiz's Darkness At Noon.

Vera was the big hit of the Taos Talking Picture Festival. It sold out all of its screenings and created an enormous buzz among filmgoers.

Marc Campbell

House of Bamboo (1955)

Technical skill props up lame story

[18 September 2002]

This cops and robbers caper is set in Tokyo, and the colorful street life (not to mention Mt. Fuji) adds a great deal to the interest of this film.

That being said, the film really isn't that interesting. I think Fuller must have known how lame and full of holes the story was. The dialog was pure shlock: "keemona girl" Mariko tells Robert Stack "It's not you, it's me" when explaining that she can't go on living with him to protect him from smart-smart-smart-stupid crime boss Robert Ryan. (Ryan has every angle figured except who the real mole in his organization is and what to do when cops are after you--climb to the roof and shoot more bullets than one gun five guns] could possibly contain.)

In Douglas Sirk's hands, this would have been camped up to the max. Fuller is not quite the director Sirk is. Instead of excess in his characters, he goes for excess with his sets and camera work. Lots of overhead and skewed-angle shots, for no apparent purpose that I could understand. He does a superb job of capturing local color (presumably part of the film was shot in Japan), provides no subtitles for the copious amounts of Japanese that are spoken (still quite understandable to a nonspeaker, however, through action), and uses Mt. Fuji to great scenic effect. The climax recalled to me the great chase on Mt. Rushmore in North by Northwest (perhaps Hitchcock was influenced by House of Bamboo), though it occurs in an amusement park.

Fun to see "Bones McCoy" DeForrest Kelly as a mobster whose sole purpose seems to be to hand cigars out to Ryan's friends. Some homoerotic subtext--Ryan violates his rule to kill any of his gang who is wounded during the commission of a crime, ordering his Ichiban (first officer) to save a wounded Stack from a heist scene.

I can't exactly recommend going out of your way to see this film; it's not that great and it's not even very campy. But it is a skillful piece of technical film making, and worth a look if you have the chance.