'WITH MY LITTLE EYE'....A STALK TO REMEMBER....

 With My Little Eye by Joshilyn Jackson (2023)

           I'm well aware of all the books, films and TV episodes that deal with that ever popular suspense generator - celebrities endangered and driven into fear-stricken anxiety by unhinged stalkers obsessed with them.

           What can I say? I'm a sucker for all of them, and like everyone else, I demand a seriously loathsome, psychotic stalker whose surprise identity, once revealed, will stun me.......and I also would ask for a hopefully sympathetic, vulnerable celebrity victim, somebody worth fearing for and rooting for.  While authors of stalker=thrillers usually never forget to dial up the psychosis on their villains, not all of these books present a celeb you can care about. 

             Joshilyn Jackson does well enough in that department. Her bedeviled celeb Meribel Mills is cleverly conceived as no giant superstar - she's only  a mid-level working actress, carving out a career of playing secondary, but unforgettable roles in TV shows and movies, achieving a moderate amount of fame. But unfortunately, it's enough fame to attract a murderous lunatic who's sending her creepy, threatening anonymous letters right out of the stalker handbook. Hoping to avoid this loon's attention and potential proximity, Meribel accepts a series role filmed in her home town Atlanta, taking along Honor, her adopted, autistic 12 year old daughter.

               And guess who hits the road to come right after them.....to make Miribel his and his alone.

               When the terrorizing and scary letters resume in Atlanta, there's no shortage of men popping up in Meribel's life to choose from as suspects -  a mysterious heavy-set guy in a raincoat on the street,  the friendly next door neighbor in her apartment building, the bodyguard=security expert who's an ex-boyfriend she still feels for, and her Atlanta-based, now remarried ex-husband....on whom Mirbel's practiced a bit of innocent, amateur stalking herself. 

                  As I'd expect and require in a thrill-ride like this, the pages fly by quickly, leading to the finale jaw-dropping reveals and excruciating nail-biting,  encounter between Meribel and her odious tormentor.  The genuine double-whammy of an extra twist that author Jackson throws into the finale comes a little too close to far-fetched overkill, but I couldn't help but admire the sheer audacity of it.  

                  Besides, I surely don't pick up stalk-o-ramas like "With My Little Eye" for their documentary-like reality. I'm looking for nothing less than a 5 star(*****) armchair theme-park ride with loads of hairpin turns.  And this one's just the ticket. 
                  
                   
                 
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'MOOREWOOD FAMILY RULES'.....YOU GRIFT ME UP WHERE I BELONG.....

Moorewood Family Rules by HelenKay Dimon (2023)

           If you can't resist a mystery thriller set amongst a pit-of-vipers family, all of whom are up to no good to varying degrees, welcome to the Moorewood clan. 

            As an extended shady gang of conniving grifters, these familial  sociopaths specialize in marrying wealthy heirs and heiresses, with a cold eye centered on their victims' bank accounts. Jillian, one of their few non-psychopathic members, made a futile demand for them to give up the grifts and go legit. For her troubles, one of them anonymously set her up for an FBI arrest, resulting in a grueling, miserable prison stretch of almost 3 years. 

             Out on parole, Jillian's back and seething with a vengeful agenda to thwart all the family's illegalities.....control their money, claim ownership of their mansion home and thwart their newest two grifts to marry into separate fabulously wealthy families. 

              But the Moorewoods  aren't likely to take Jillian's 'go-legit-or-or-else' demand sitting down. When mysterious, murderous 'accidents' begin to befall her, her few family allies supply Jillian with hunky bodyguard Beck.......and a predictable but still amusing  slow burn romance simmers while literally everybody's deepest family secrets start coming out.

             While the set-up seemed to promise a deliciously dark comedy, I felt surprised to find  the book spent more time on the soap opera conniving and the all too serious drama of the Moorewoods'  dysfunctional family histories. True,  there a good amount of wit in many of the dialogue exchanges, but the 'Knives Out' type laughs, if that's what your expected, don't occur  with any frequency.   And Jillian, along with the storyline, both take an awful long time to finally get where they're  going. 

            Even with the dawdling plot, the chapters do zip along fast enough. Plus, I'm right there for any book that offers the fun of watching a sprawling household of toxic rascals meet their match.  Best saved for a warm lazy spring afternoon.....or even the beach.  3 stars (***)

'QUASI'.....HUMPBACKED WAILS......

 Quasi (2023)    The title of this latest comedy from the Broken Lizard  troupe could also describe the percentage of times it makes' you laugh.......depending on your affinity for a throwback to the kind of throwaway raunch-fests once pumped out by National Lampoon and Mel Brooks. 

            Yes, it freely borrows Victor Hugo's pathetic, poignant Notre Dame bellringer Quasimodo and plops him into a completely different series of equally dismal circumstances in 18th century France. 

            But never fear, the usual stuff's in place here......torture mob cruelty, devious imbecilic royalty, endless abuse heaped on poor 'Quasi'......and everyone spitting out 21st century gags at each other with the speed of an AR-15.  It's what a Monty Python movie might look like if all the Python guys underwent lobotomies before they sat down to write the script. 

          But......I'm embarrassed, mortified and humiliated to reveal.......

           I laughed. God help me.....more than once. 

           So you should know what you're getting into here......prepare for stupidity and silliness on a massive scale,,,,,,it that type of comedy tickles you (even after early adolescence), then it's passably amusing 3 star (***) effort.

             I'll say this much for the Broken Lizard Guys, they function well as tireless, non-stop farceurs. Don't worry if you think any particular gag comes off as lame, dumb and unfunny.....rest assured that if one joke doesn't land for you, about a thousand others are right behind it. 

              If, however, this goofball, rogue 'Mad Magazine' stuff doesn't so much as crack a slight smile out of you......give it a hard pass. 

'FINIAN'S RAINBOW'....A YOUNG COPPOLA COPES WITH OLD BROADWAY.....

Finian's Rainbow (1968)    In tracing Francis Ford Coppola's directing career, stretching over 60 years, I don't think there's a more bizarre, oddball entry in his filmography than this one. 

             (Even stranger, I think, than his semi-porno 1962 "The Bellboy And The Playgirls", which BQ reviewed way back on 4/12/19.....check it out....)

              Even though bloated, disastrous adaptations of Broadway musicals were sinking the big studios into bankrupt oblivion, they couldn't or wouldn't stop making them......

             And somehow, in a incomprehensible, serendipitous decision, Warner Brothers handed the director's reigns of this Broadway Behemoth to 29 year old Coppola, whom as you might guess, possessed no experience whatsoever in helming a mega-budgeted Hollywood musical.

              ( But to be fair to Coppola, the results here still remain way better than some of today's overstuffed superhero-comic-book, sci-fi-fantasy spectacles turned over to directors who normally made Sundance entries shot on their I-Phones and charged on their mom's credit card.)

              "Finian's Rainbow", a crazy goulash of backwoods Americana cornball and Irish fantasy was a broadway hit dating back to 1947.  But for decades,  Hollywood avoided it at all costs......in the midst of its lilting, charming score and hillbilly antics was a powerful, satirical attack on deeply embedded  Old South racism still very much a part of American society. 

               Perhaps ironic that it finally found its way to film in 1968, the pivotal calamitous year of assassinations, riots, continued Vietnam carnage and the oncoming darkness of Richard Nixon's election to the Presidency. 

                I'm already rolling my eyes far upward at the thought of describing the plot of this film, so for the sake of my own sanity and your kind patience, dear visitors, I promise to be mercifully brief.

               A spry old Irish rogue (Fred Astaire) and his lovely-voiced daughter (pop star Petula Clark)wander across  America until traipsing into the backward, backwoods State of 'Missitucky'...(a Warners backlot set only slightly less fake than 'Lil Abner's Dogpatch). Fred's stolen the proverbial pot 'o gold from a Leprechaun (played like a live action cartoon by British pop 'n stage star Tommy Steele) And the once little Lep (now full size due to Fred's theft) has chased him down. 

                Meanwhile, amongst the cornpone crowd, a old school racist windbag Senator (Keenen Wynn) oppresses the poor folk, both black and white......that is, until some pot 'o gold magic turns him black, forcing him to see life from a whole new......uh.....hue. 

                Even if the race-changing gimmick gives the project an immediate up-to-date timeliness. it seems jarringly at odds with the show's very antiquated,  over-the-top 1940's theatricality  (Supposedly Coppola made a futile attempt to dial down Steele's top-of-his-lungs performance, but I can't imagine why he be bothered, since the rest of the cast was already loudly playing to balcony anyway.)

                  But for anyone who's deep down a repressed theater kid who adores catchy, hummable show tunes (and you know who you are), the "Finian's Rainbow" score is a treasure trove.  ("Ol Devil Moon", "Look To The Rainbow",  "How Are Things In Glocca Morra", "When I'm Not Near The Girl I Love", etc, )

                Completely at odds with his own 1960's sensibilities and cinema techniques, a young Coppola struggled mightily to graft a more contemporary vision to this ancient material....a true mission impossible that eluded him. A big Broadway show is a big Broadway show.....even a gifted director can't turn  it into anything other than what it was to begin with. Loud, obvious and begging for a standing O.

               Still reeling from the vast expense of "Camelot" ,budget-minded mogul Jack Warner forced Coppola to shoot the entire film on the backlot sound stages, which defeated Coppola's every effort to make it look more real.......not likely. 

               The end result of all this?  A decidedly strange, neither fish-nor-fowl concoction, which veers from low comedy to drippy sentiment to pointed satire.....all of it wrapped up in way, way too leisurely  145 minutes..

                But some good stuff along way....that legendary score, .the final singing-dancing magic of Fred Astaire's on display, Petula Clark lets loose with a big Broadway-worthy voice, young dancer Barbara Hancock shines as Susan The Silent, who communicates only through balletic leaps and bounds.....and Francis Ford Coppola avoiding the usual regimented dance numbers, opted to loosely stage them like spontaneous freeform partying.....(which, to be honest, probably resulted from his firing of Fred Astaire's long time choreographer, Hermes Pan.)

               Overall, entirely watchable and passably entertaining if you've a warm spot in your heart for classic old musicals......3 stars (***). But if you don't......you'd best find a different rainbow.......

                 

                

'START THE REVOLUTION WITHOUT ME'....IF ONLY THE MOVIE HAD STARTED WITHOUT ME......

 Start The Revolution Without Me (1970)    It's usual now for film critics and bloggers to speak of the 1970's with wistful, fond nostalgia......

             Oh those long gone glory days of the 'New Hollywood' young generation of filmmakers turning cinema upside down with exciting, groundbreaking movies.....

              And the fading, crumbling movie studios, awash in red ink and willing to try anything to lure audiences back into theaters, even if it meant opening the kingdom gates to  those hungry ambitious young directors......

                Great and wonderful films came out of that era.......but so did the usual assembly line junk. 

                Like this wheezing, embarrassing pathetic costume farce.....a gasping stab at the kind of bawdy, slapstick, gag-stuffed romps that Mel Brooks would dominate for the rest of the decade. 

                "Start The Revolution Without Me", a labored spoof of Alexandre Dumas's "The Corsican Brothers", came from the long time producing directing team of Norman Lear and Bud Yorkin. For the double set of twin brothers, they lined up a powerhouse comedic duo......Gene Wilder, fresh from "The Producers" and Donald Sutherland, fresh from "M.A.S.H."

                 From the first frame onward, with a sedated, modern-day Orson Welles providing an introductory narration, the film reeks of desperation and flop sweat. It's like an endless, unfunny Saturday Night Live skit that makes not a single audience member laugh. 

                  After Welles disappears, the 1789 costume crap commences.....with Wilder-Sutherland playing the set of noble aristocrats  and fearful peasants caught up in the imminent French Revolution. For reasons never explained (not that I care enough to wonder), Wilder plays the aristo bro as a raving hysteric on the edge of a violent breakdown.  He screams. A lot. Which director Yorkin, I assume, thought  would send audiences into orgasms of giggles. 

                   Nope. Not even close. 

                  At Versaille, the two sets of brothers get caught up in the nefarious crossplots, betrayals and murderous schemes of King Louis (Hugh Griffith) Marie Antoinette (Billie Whitelaw) and the oily Count De Escargot (Victor Spinetti).....cause naming a snotty Count as a snail is a laff riot, right?

                    Lots of swordplay, running around and falling down erupt all over the place......not a bit of it even remotely funny, with the exception of a running gag involving The Man In The Iron Mask.

                   For any horny red blooded males who stumble into watching this, relief comes in the appearance of that pouty international  babydoll Ewa Aulin (of Buck Henry's strange multi-national epic satire "Candy")  Another girl shows up as the gf of one of the peasant brothers, but in another bizarre, unexplained running gag, she literally spends the entire film either tortured, slapped around or stripped.  Another knee-slappin' idea from the Lear-Yorkin brain trust. 

                  A large scale slapstick insurrection furnishes the climax, which does include the film's one and only great sight gag for the Man In the Iron Mask. But then the film abruptly grinds this sequence to a halt, then goes back to modern day.......where Orson Welles plunges into a river and Gene Wilder and Donald Sutherland, now in secret agent suits and ties, kill each other.  Honest. Really. Not making this up.......

                   Comedy completists may consider wasting 90 minutes of their lives gaping at the movie like a slow drive past a horrendous traffic accident.  For everybody else, Zero Stars (0). 

'MARLOWE'....TORPID NOIR, LURCHING AT A SLOW CRAWL....

 Marlowe (2022)    Unlike other carping critics, I've no problem with Liam Neeson following the well trod career path of Sir Michael Caine.....

                   Like Caine, Neeson loves to keep making films and takes just about anything that comes his way.......usually in the genre Neeson now exclusively carved out for himself......that of 'the old guy workin' stiff whom everybody takes for granted until he's forced to reveal he's an ass-kicking force-to-be-reckoned-with.."

                    'Marlowe' incorporates Neeson's go-to genre into its main agenda......re-creating and re-inventing 1940's wisecracking Private Eye noir......an idea that always gets at least 2 or 3 attempts every decade for the last 50 years.......

                    Some filmmakers make an all out effort to meticulously carbon-copy the genre.....involving the not inexpensive task to reproducing the 1940's era in all its glory,....the cars, the clothes, the houses, the attitudes, the snappy patter of tough P.I.s and sultry dames. 

                   More daring filmmakers choose to bend the genre to their will,  replanting it into the current zeitgeist  and deploying all its now cliche tropes as weapons of satire on the way we live now.....(the prime example of this, of course.....Robert Altman's "The Long Goodbye". )

                  Director and co-screenwriter Neil Jordan wants its every which way in "Marlow". He peppers the film's dialogue with so many arch, hip zingers, the actors sound like they're hurling opaque non-sequiturs at each other., And he so studiously mimics the noir visuals with, fussy, academic determination, the film looks like a Museum of Natural History diorama....reproducing familiar Private Eye scenes the same way museums do for stuffed lions and tigers in their natural habitats...

                  And the resulting film is every bit as lifeless, stillborn and frozen in time as a diorama. 

                  From beginning to end, the film maintains its barely tolerable aura of dullness, even when it sends the clearly elderly Neeson into punch-ups with assorted thugs.  In the familiar supporting cast, only Jessica Lange, as a snarky rich L.A. grande  dame does her best to liven things up a little, But she's up against a solid wall of monotone set by director Jordan.

                  A worthless waste of time and I'm exhausted even talking about it. Enough's enough. Zero stars (0)......make believe it never happened. I'm pretty sure that's what Neeson's done already.....

WEEKEND MADNESS WRAP-UP....SPECIAL, "BROTHER CAN YOU SPARE 787.5 MILLION?" EDITION.......

 Fox News and Rupert Murdoch settle Dominion Voting Machine lawsuit for close to 788 million dollars.......in a comforting memo to his staff and on-air commentators, Murdoch tried to raise their morale...."None of you should worry about blowback........remember, at least 90 per cent of our viewership have either had lobotomies or suffer from the final stages dementia......they've already forgotten all about it...."

GOP proceeds full steam ahead on a nationwide abortion ban even though completely contrary to the wishes and opinions of a majority of Americans.......Republican leaders proudly proclaimed at a recent conference, "We're just getting started! New legislation will institute monitoring cameras and microphones installed in all women's medicine cabinets across the country, with data collected sent directly to the GOP National Committee for possible indictments and arrests.   Rape or no rape, we'll force these bitches to pump out babies like there's no tomorrow...."

Even more Clarence Thomas corruption revelations keep rolling in.......Making what he believed  to be a fair offer to pro-choice progressives, Thomas recently ran  a series of late night informercials......("You girls want to control your own bodies and health decisions so badly?  Send me and Ginni a certified banker's check for 5 millions and I'll reverse the Dobbs ruling and bring back abortion.  Throw in a Bahamas vacation and unlimited spa visits for Ginni, and you'll get a $386 dollar rebate. We're waitin' for your call!"

Ron DeSantis continues his ongoing war against Walt Disney World......the Governor recently encouraged the Florida GOP controlled legislature to pass his strict new law empowering ICE agents seize Disney employees in character costumes as illegal aliens and forcefully put them on buses bound for Times Square......(Explained DeSantis, "They're probably all gay anyway and dreaming of career on Broadway, so I'm doing them a favor...."

'THE DEVILS'.....ROKU BIDS HELLO AND GOODBYE TO KEN RUSSELL'S LOONIEST DISASTERPIECE.....

 The Devils (1971)   Let me first answer the question you're no doubt asking.....

              "How in the name of All Gods Of Cinema did BQ manage to see writer-director Ken Russell's legendary, lost lost Three Ring Circus of deranged depravity????  Wasn't that film banned in all civilized counties of world and prompted its distributor Warner Brothers to claim, "What'd you say the name was? 'The Devils'?  Nope, never released it. Never heard of it....move along...."

                      Let me explain:

                      Somehow, an app called 'Movieland TV' managed to slip into the Roku line-up of apps offering free movies. 

                       Couldn't believe my eyes when I encountered it......and I guessed at once its days were numbered since at least  90% of the movies were obtained illegally. 

                       But what a frickin' line-up!   Impossible-to-find, impossible-to-stream movies from the 50's, 60's and 70's, plus a ton of titles you've have to pay 3.99 to stream on every other site. 

                       "The Devils", which I'd not laid eyes on since the year it came out, was the very last film I was able to stream on Movieland TV until Roku finally pulled the plug on it a few days ago. 

                        And you'll be happy to know that the film's still crazy after all these years. At the very height of his notoriety, Russell plunged the cinema world into his personal phantasmagoria of naked masturbating nuns, piles of plague victims, Oliver Reed as a horny priest burned at the stake and Vanessa Redgrave as madly giggling, hunchbacked Mother Superior.   (Cause, as far as BQ's concerned, you can never have enough madly giggling hunchbacked nuns in a movie....)

                        Wow, did they know how to party in 17th Century France or what?

                        To cook up all the madness, Russell assembled a supporting cast of  glorious grotesques, overacting as if they're all starring in your latgest nightmare........the always, snarky, smarmy bug-eyed Dudley Sutton, the cadaverous Michael Gothard as frenzied exorcist, the prissy babbling Max Adrian ......and  there's Redgrave, dialing it up to 11 on the loony-meter.....

                        And let us forever pay homage to the host of uncredited women, bald headed and stark naked who spend almost the entire second half of the film in tota' delirium, jamming various objects into their privates. 

                       As you can tell from my brief (and believe it or not) understated descriptions of what goes on here, any director today who made "The Devils" would see his career instantly implode and evaporate before his eyes. 

                      But in the 1970's?   We're talkin' decades and decades before wokeness and political correctness clamped down on filmmakers and their films.  Nobody had a clue as to what would fly in movie theaters anymore, a joyous era for groundbreaking artists.

                      So how do I judge and rate a movie like "The Devils"?   

                      On its own terms, as one of Ken Russell's maniacal dreamscapes, I suppose I'd think of it as a success.   You can't logically level criticism on a film take already takes great pride in being nuts. 

                      Or as they say these days.....it is what it is.  And anyone visiting this site knows there's a special place in BQ's heart for the oddest of oddball films. 

                     Sadly, I bid a fond farewell to "The Devils", (and the outlaw Movieland TV app as well).....who knows when or where the film (or the app) will ever surface again. 4 stars (****) to the both of them.......

                     

               

'PLANE'......FLY HARD WITH A VENGEANCE.....

 Plane (2023)    Tired of bloated 3 hour so-called, would-be blockbusters?

                  You can consider this a palate cleanser. 

                   What's more refreshing than a throwback to 1990's dumbbell action movies?

                  Who's left to take up the mantle?  Stallone and  Schwarzenegger are too old already. Harrison Ford, hitting 80, plans to bow out after his upcoming final "Indiana Jones". Poor Bruce Willis had to retire with a debilitating illness. 

                    But look who's still left in the game......Gerard Butler, rapidly heading into his mid 50's but still ready to rumble.  Thank God there's still a two fisted everyman with the ability to take loads of physical punishment and kick terrorist ass with relish. 

                   And do I really need to go into any further description about this movie?  Okay, for anyone who never ever sat through a 1990's action movie, here's all you need to know....

                   Our lionhearted Gerry's a  pilot reduced to flying for an obscure Pacific Islands carrier since he once slugged an unruly passenger on a major U.S. airline.  This literally fly-by-night company has him taking a sparsely full (14 passengers) New Year's Eve flight into a hellacious storm. 

                   When a lightning strike knocks out all the plane's power, the fearless Gerard-inator must crash land the plane into nearest island he can find.  And wouldn't you know it, he sets down on a remote isle exclusively populated by ultra-creepy heavily armed rebel-terrorists.  These guys love nothing more than capturing innocent hostages they can either ransom off  or make tapes of their instant executions.

                 Lucky for us, our hero finds a surprise vital ally in a passenger who was on his way to prison on a murder charge (Mike Colter).....a former French Foreign Legionnaire with all the necessary skills to kill lots of bad guys. 

                     Our dynamic duo, as we'd all expect, start bringin' the rapid fire bullet storms to that bunch of ugly psycho terrorists And our guys end up conveniently aided by a small band of mercs dropped in to the island, courtesy of the airline's crisis manager (Tony Goldwyn).

                     All the fierce firefights you can ever dream of ensue, but not before the bonus treat of a long brutal mano e mano go-round between Gerry and one of the overly muscled goons......(and accomplished, to the film's credit, in one long sustained shot).

                      Simple as can be and as bracing as an ice cold drink on a sweltering day, "Plane"  stays as primal as its title......a fast over-and-done theme park ride that doesn't even require you to leave your chair. 

                      So enjoy a swell time with this one before the next 3 hour film festival refugee comes your way......a 4 star (****) refreshment. 

'LIPSTICK'.....DID DINO DELAURENTIS PREDICT THE COMING OF #METOO???

 Lipstick (1976)    Anyone watching this today, 47 years after its initial release, might generously admire its all too prescient depiction of a brutal rape and its aftermath. 

               Close to half a century later, this swift, exploitive, pulpy, semi-horror movie still holds the power to hit you like a punch to the jaw.  It plays like an elongated rogue episode of "Law And Order-Special Victims Unit".......especially in its depiction of an oily, odious, sociopathic rapist, and a justice system then designed to blame the rapist's victim for 'asking for it' while fully exonerating him.  

                So do I credit this brief, nasty little movie with the Nostradamus-like power to predict what would evolve into women's ongoing battle (and eventual victories) over rape-culture misogyny?   Did international mega-producer Dino DeLaurentis really tap into the zeitgeist of the future when he slapped this movie together?

                  Nah. This is the 1970's we're talkin' about.  The only thing Dino cared to predict was the fattening of Dino's bank account. And in "Lipstick" he combined what he considered not one, not two but three can't miss elements to rake in the big bucks. 

                 #1. Supermodel du jour and Flavor-Of-the-Month Margaux Hemingway, a tall, big-boned Idaho country girl, and granddaughter of Papa Hemingway himself. And inexplicably ,a rather simple, uncomplicated young woman who stumbled into fashion modeling an acting, though not particularly skilled or talented in either field. 

                   #2.A storyline that not only features a lengthy scene of  Hemingway viciously beaten and sodomized, it throws in, as a bonus, the same fate (albeit offscreen)  befalling Hemingway's gentle, virginal 14 year old little sister.....played by, of all people, Hemingway's gentle, virginal, 14 year old little sister Mariel.    

                    #3. Revenge! Like Charlie Bronson, Tom Laughlin, Joe Don Baker before her, Margaux's fully armed, dangerous......and pissed.

                    What we have here is no great treatise on women's plight in a world of men.......

                     Not this movie. All this movie wants to do is treat you to  the spectacle of a beautiful, entitled woman bounced off the walls and sexually assaulted in the most painful way imaginable...and then humiliated and demeaned in a courtroom, despite the best efforts of her furious, outraged attorney (Anne Bancroft)........and then juice your adrenalin level to the max at the sight of Hemingway taking out her and sister's rapist 'Death Wish' style......with multiple shotgun blasts. 

                      In other words, a fast buck, exploitation thrill ride similar to Roger Corman's drive-in movie quickies........and for villainy, you can't beat rising star Chris Sarandon, , fresh from his showstopping role in "Dog Day Afternoon", as the evil simpering, sociopathic rapist. 

                       In 1976, this movie was never concocted as a serious reflection of the plight of women under the eternally horny male gaze.  But all these decades later, its very immediate in-your-face crudity, and the ahead-of-its-time sheer brutality of its rape sequence give the movie the kind of additional power that even Dino DeLaurentis couldn't have imagined. 

                      It's ironic that what 1976 audiences caught wind of in the film wasn't its battle cry against rape and the judicial system's treatment of victims. What caught the zeitgeist then.....was that Margaux Hemingway couldn't act her way out of a paper bag but  her kid sister Mariel was a genuine undiscovered gem and a a star in the making. 

                        Go figure......."Lipstick" still remains as topical as ever not only in its icy treatment of sexual assault, but in its angry satirical indictment of pop culture objectifying of women.....another element thrown in for visual splendors.....2 & 1/2 stars (**1/2)

                

                

'THE SOULMATE'....A TROUBLED COUPLE, RIGHT ON CLIFF'S EDGE......

 The Soulmate by Sally Hepworth (2023)

           Once again, domestic dysfunction goes plunging off a cliff......this time literally, right into the crashing surf of the ocean below.   That's part of the unsettling price that loving soulmates  Pippa and Gabe pay for moving into a beautiful cliffside house on the Australian coast.  Their home sits in front of the area's most favored high cliff for potential suicides seeking to end it all.

            But not on Gabe's watch though. Movie star handsome and a dauntless good Samaritan,, he's become a neighborhood celeb by rushing out of the house to talk people out of taking that last fatal step.  Pippa couldn't be prouder of him........that is, until Gabe's calming voice and steady outstretched hands fail to prevent a bedeviled woman's terminal leap.  Even worse, from Pippa's vantage point of the incident, it looked more like Gabe's arms appeared in the "push" position rather than the life-saving  "I got you!" stance. Uh oh......

              And now let the twists commence, starting the first of a cascade of shockers that rock Pippa's world......Gabe and the unfortunate woman were not strangers to each other. (Let's all say it together now...."Uh oh..")

               More than that I wouldn't dream of revealing, since the nerve-wracking jollies of a domestic thriller like this come from the steady detonation of deep secrets and stunning surprises. And in that regard, Sally Hepworth delivers the goods over and over........in that everybody involved has something to hide and don't think you know for minute what's really going on until you race to the final pages. 

              The short, right-to-the-point chapters give the book a relentless, propulsive pace........a technique I wish more thriller authors would adopt.  And I can never get enough zippy 5 star, suspense laded tales like "The Soulmate"....even if they take me way past bedtime.  Well done, Ms. Hepworth.....can't wait for your next one already.  For suspense fans, "The Soulmate" makes for a fine book-mate,,,5 stars (*****)

WEEKEND MADNESS WRAP-UP......SPECIAL "HE'S A TOP GUY!" EDITION......

 

Trump raves on to Tucker Carson about his great love of ruthless dictators Kim Jung Un, Putin, President Xi of China......filled with admiration, refers to them as "Top Guys"   "I gotta hand it to these guys....lockin' up journalists, slaughtering women and children, starving their own people, killing anyone they don't like......they're my heroes...."

Trump appointed judge decides to ban abortion drug to all pregnant women in the United States......and further decreed that every state's National Guard be trained to randomly stop women on the street and administer 'surprise pelvic exams....("....just to make sure the girls are all staying on the straight and narrow...."

Clarence Thomas continues to strengthen his reputation as the most corrupt, unqualified individual whoever managed to stumble into the Supreme Court.....In a recent interview, Thomas's MAGA-crazed wife Ginni promises, "...just wait'll we overthrow the government and re-install Donald as President! Then you're gonna see Clarence to some real kick-ass rulings!  Like...no voting..ever!")

Jim Jordan's infamous "weaponization" committee continues to harass New York D.A. Bragg over his indictment of Donald Trump.....Jordan's committee also is preparing millions of search warrants to investigate every single American citizen who voted for Joe Biden.......

Tennessee Democrats expelled by GOP MAGA-Zombies are immediately re-instated, making them immediate heroes to millions of people around the entire country...fuming GOP legislators were heard to mumble, "what did everyone get so upset about it? All we tried to do was teach a couple of those uppity boys a  lesson in manners. The next thing you know, they'll demand to sit in seats on the front of the bus....."

'WAR OF THE WORLDS' (1953) STILL DISINTEGRATING US AFTER ALL THESE YEARS.......

 War Of The Worlds (1953)    I'm not sure of too many things, but I'm pretty sure I'll still enjoy repeated viewings of this quintessential sci-fi classic till I'm off to the great beyond.....or whatever.....

            Running 85 furiously breathless minutes, this film piles on more unforgettable sequences than I've ever seen thrown into one single movie. It just comes at you and never stops........

            I'm beginning to wish that all current fantasy-sci-fi filmmakers who've padded out their movies to bloated running times of 2 and 1/2 to 3 hours should be tied to a chair and forced to watch this one again, to study the sheer craftsmanship and  economy of storytelling on display.

           For producer George Pal and director Byron Haskin, "War Of The Worlds" still stands as their greatest achievement , in which every single element that goes into a movie (script, performance, cinematography, music, production design, special effects) came perfectly together. 

            For Baby Boomer kids who grew up watching it at countless kiddie matinees, the images remained burned into their eyeballs and memories forever.......such as.....

            First and foremost, the sleek, goose-necked, cobra-headed Martian war machines designed by Albert Nozaki, as far away as you could imagine from H.G.Wells conception of towering, clunking tripods......Nokaki's space age, floating death-dealing mechanisms hovered, glided, pulsated and at any moment's notice, could spit out fiery heat ray from their heads ....and from their sides, blasts of green chunks o stuff to dissolve you on the spot.....

           More horrific scenes ensued as we gaped at the sight of our soldiers, tanks and jeeps either disintegrate in nothingness or burst into flame.  And everyone's blood froze solid at the sight of innocent, adorable sweetheart Ann Robinson getting a surprise tap on the shoulder by spindly, suction-cupped Martian fingers......

            And even our very last resort, what the panicked narrator of the film's frenzied newsreel opening refers to as 'super science'  fails to even put a slight dent in the Martians' methodical extermination of humanity.  Yes, we drop an atom bomb on them, but the aliens protective shield provokes on observer of the detonation to scream, "They haven't even been touched!"

            There's only a few things that date the film......mostly its ongoing, heavy reliance on religion....back in the days when Hollywood's view of America was strictly as a Christian, God fearing country.  So right away you know how inhuman the invaders are when they vaporize a gentle-hearted, kindly pastor holding up a bible at them.  And when earth's bacteria finally hits those unvaccinated aliens like the first wave of Covid, it's clearly an act of divine intervention, bringing on a church choir and a rousing 'Amen' for the final shot. 

             A truly iconic film, so it's no wonder that Steven Spielberg's equally spectacular 2005 remake paid homage by repeating one of the original's most anxious, ominous lines - ("Once they begin to move, no more news comes out of that area...") and also including stars Gene Barry and Ann Robinson as Tom Cruise's elderly in-laws. 

              No question about the rating on "War Of The Worlds". Forever a legendary film and essential viewing for anyone who loves and cherishes movies. 5 stars (*****) a FIND OF FINDS.

                

       

'LEGAL EAGLES'....THE LOST ART OF THE ROM-COM THRILLER......

 Legal Eagles (1986)    I do like coming back to re-watch this one from time to time......for no other reason than it represents a peculiar hybrid genre that studios rarely attempt - a thriller that also functions as an opposites-attract romantic comedy. 

              The simple reason for this genre's rarity......it's rare that anyone gets it right, and when it fails, the results come out painful to behold and sometimes downright catastrophic. 

              What a director and script must accomplish here is a double challenge.......make the thriller part really thrilling and suspenseful and make the rom-com part sparkling and funny.  The latter requires that elusive factor of 'chemistry' between the two leads.  The former requires a solid, well-plotted mystery to grab your interest. 

               No easy task......and as exhibit A, check out BQ's 7/16/20 review of 1994's "I Love Trouble" with Nick Nolte and Julia Roberts.  Chemistry went out the window since this couple loudly and publicly despised each other. The storyline wasn't so hot either......

                Which brings me back to "Legal Eagles", a big studio, big star, ultra high profile rom-com thriller pre-packaged by the mighty CAA talent agency for maximum appeal. 

                 C'mon now, how could audiences resist the oddball pairing of mega-star Robert Redford with quirky, one-of-a-kind, newly minted "it" girl Debra Winger, of the giant hits "Terms Of Endearment" and "An Officer And A Gentlemen"?  

                 And to insure the project would deliver both romantic fireworks and spectacular action, suspense and surprise twists, , the film came under the direction of that "Ghostbusters" maestro, Ivan Reitman.  All the ingredients needed for a powerhouse project. 

                  So now you're asking, did the movie deliver everything it promised?  Laughs, chemistry and thrills?

                   Well......I'll say this for it. It's never boring, the stars do look like they're enjoying each other's company, lots of stuff gets blown up or set ablaze and there's a great supporting cast. including Brian Dennehy, Darryl Hannah and Terence Stamp. And once again, Reitman takes advantage of composer Elmer Bernstein's ability to write spritely, infectious comedy music as well as his more well known action-drama scores. 

                  Redford's an ace rising star in the New York district attorney's office. But his life and prosecutorial career fly off the rails when he crosses paths with feisty defense attorney (Winger )and her client, an unconventional young performance artist (Hannah) accused first of art theft, and the murders of art gallery owners. 

                  There's not much snap, crackle and pop in the dialogue's comedic byplay, so the film relies more  heavily on Redford and Winger's charismatic charm, which thankfully, they provide.  Director Reitman, probably hoping to repeat "Ghostbusters" box-office numbers, depends far too much on spectacle .......he throws in a warehouse explosion almost nuclear in size and building fires that might make you think you're watching an early version of "Backdraft".

                   For all the time, money and star power packed into it, "Legal Eagles" could have easily afforded (and used) some sharper, wittier writing put into its script. But then again,  I can't really get too cranky at a movie trying so hard be entertaining and fun......(as opposed to today's multiplex offerings with spandexed superheroes making dumb wisecracks while they toss each other around like frisbees....)

                  And all these years later, it's still a comfort to spend some time with Redford, Winger, New York City, a strangely sexy Darryl Hannah, the chunky, reliable Brian Dennehy, the suavely sinister Terence Stamp,  Elmer Bernstein's bouncy music, a few chases, a dash of danger....and middle-of-the-night tap dancing in the bathroom.

                 See for yourself.....3 & 1/2 stars (***1/2)