'UNDER CAPRICORN'.....UNDERWHELMING HITCHCOCK DOWN UNDER.....

Capricorn (1949)   We held off so long in reviewing this that we had to re-watch it to jog our addled movie memories. 

           As a lifelong Alfred Hitchcock fan, we're sorry to report that the passage of time hasn't made this film any better. It easily stands among the worst of his efforts.....talky, static, ponderous in its plotting and, we hate to say it.....visually a colossal bore. 

             The director's only real contribution here comes from his ongoing flirtation with long, long extended shots.....which everyone hoped his one-take experiment with "Rope" the year before had cured him of that gimmicky obsession.

              Set in early 19th century Sydney Australia, 'Capricorn's a turgid, overcooked melodrama without a scrap of suspense or mystery that Hitchcock became famous for. It's the kind of soaper that's right up Douglas Sirk's alley, but how this material attracted Hitchcock....well, you're more than welcome to figure it out. 

              Irish wastrel Charles Adair (Michael Wilding) lands in Sydney as excess baggage for his cousin, Sir Richard (Cecil Parker), the new governor of New South Wales. Oddly enough, Charles finds himself in a land deal with wealthy businessman Sam Flusky (Joseph Cotton). 

             Flusky was one of thousands of ex-convicts transported to Australia by Britain, who used Down Under as a continent-sized Alcatraz. Having served his sentence and made his fortune, the taciturn land baron lives a lonely life with his neurotic, depressed and frequently drunk wife Henrietta (Ingrid Bergman,  Lady Henrietta's cared for by vaguely sinister housekeeper Milly (Margaret Leighton) who's nursing an unrequited crush on Sam. 

             Flusky, desperate to bring Henrietta out of her funk, foolishly encourages Charles to befriend her. Charles, of course, falls head over heels for her......and both men remain unaware that Milly, much like the cold-hearted housekeeper of 'Rebecca' is driving Henrietta into madness, plying her with liquor and sedatives, then terrifying her by leaving a shrunken head on her pillow. 

            The plot thickens like mud when it's revealed that Sam and Henrietta share a tortured, tragic backstory of forever star-crossed lovers, We won't go any further describing this mess, other than to say it's somehow resolved, after much jabber-jabber-jabber from everyone involved.

             To no one's surprise, the film tanked on its initial release and don't hold your breath waiting to catch it on any Hitchcock retrospectives. 75 years later, it still stinks.  (And you shouldn't waste your breath looking for at least one of the director's startling flourishes, like Karin Dor's robe spilling out like a pool of blood in the otherwise dead-on-arrival "Topaz"

             For all Hitch completists (like us) see it once and no more. You might forget about it while you're actually watching it. 1 star (*).

             

'HANDS OF THE RIPPER'.....JACK'S LITTLE GIRL LIVES ON THE CUTTING EDGE.....

Hands Of The Ripper (1971) was the second half of a Hammer Horror double feature.....(we covered the first half, "Twins Of Evil" in yesterday's post.....) 

      With the glaring exception of its stark, unusually arty finale, the film follows a predictable trajectory for Hammer, livened up by some psycho-sexual perversion and bloody corpses. 

       Proceedings get off to a roaring start with our favorite London slice'n-dicer fleeing through fogbound back alleys, a raging mob at his heels. 

       Fresh from butchering his latest whore, Jack seeks sanctuary with....hold on....his lovely wife and toddler daughter.  How comforting. A family man, after all.

        But Jack's gotta be Jack, which means a quickie divorce by carving up Mama while his shrieking 3 year old baby girl looks on. Hmmm.....do you think this poor kid's going to have problems in later life?

        Heh, heh, heh, heh........

        15 years later (and still child-like) orphaned Anna (Angharad Rees) earns her keep providing ghostly voices for a fake medium (Margaret Rawlings).  If anyone makes the fatal error of showing the vulnerable girl close affection, Little Orphan Anna's possessed by Daddy's spirit and commences slashing. 

        (You'd be amazed how many people make that fatal error throughout the course of the film and lucky Anna, she's always within close proximity to something really sharp.....)

         She finds herself in the custody of earnest Freud-ian Dr. John Pritchard (Eric Porter). Unaware of her horrific backstory, he dedicates himself to delving into Anna's long suppressed childhood trauma. Uh....bad idea, Doc....there will be blood. 

          What sets this Hammer entry apart from all others is its visually stunning climax at London's famed 'whispering gallery' in a high tower of St. Paul's cathedral.  (which Hammer surprisingly replicated on a sound stage when denied access to the real gallery)

          In its final moments, the film reaches for a quietly reflective, somber and brutally tragic finish....... and way out of the ordinary for a "The End" to a Hammer film.  A weighty moment indeed, but the film itself does little to generate the kind of emotional heft to make that ending the knockout it wanted to be. 

          But you will find the usual Hammer good stuff.....the meticulous attention to period detail, the superb cast of British character actors headed by Eric Porter, who goes at like it's "The Forsyte Saga" with multiple impalements. 

          BQ says cook up mass quantities of popcorn and watch 'Ripper' along with its companion 'Twins Of Evil'.  A fun, 3 star (***) double feature of classier Grindhouse.

           

        

         

'TWINS OF EVIL'....'CAUSE YOU CAN NEVER HAVE ENOUGH PLAYBOY PLAYMATES IN A HAMMER MOVIE.....

 Twins Of Evil (1971)   By the time the '70's arrived, the Golden Age of Hammer horror began to wind down. 

         For sure, the glory days of Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee facing off to the pounding of James Bernard's music were in the rear view mirror. 

          Hammer didn't go down without a fight, though. Their new secret weapons to keep their hold on the zeitgeist:  Sex, naked babes and extra graphic gore they couldn't get away with in the 1960's. 

          You could notice the films struggling to maintain the high polish that built Hammer's reputation......especially their unique ability to make their period pieces appear lushly appointed, though shot cheaply. On the plus side, they could still draw upon the bottomless talent pool of the British acting community.

          Which is why we found the company's 1970's output a mixed bag.....a not-so-smooth blend of their old school professional polish with the exploitation tropes of grindhouse sex 'n violence bloodsoakers. 

            No better examples exist than their double-feature pairing of "Twins Of Evil " and "Hands Of The Ripper" in 1971.

             Today, we'll stick with the twins played by.....gadzooks!  Real twins, played by gorgeous Playboy cover girls, Mary and Madeline Collinson. 

              But could either of them act?  Or do anything on screen other than stand there and look stunning? 

              The answer:   Uh....well.....let's just say they came off as remarkably competent. They didn't embarrass themselves and turn the film into a campy disaster. Come to think of it, compared Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen, they're Meryl Streep...doubled. 

              Back we go to those fun times in 17th century Central Europe, where the local yokels like their women extra crispy on a bonfire worthy of a frat party.  Rabid Puritan Witchhunter-in-Chief Gustav Weil (Peter Cushing, in fine form) and his loyal gang of        Weil-ees go about the countryside doing God's work -torching innocent young girls they suspect of hocus-pokery.

            Sneering and unafraid of them is depraved, debauched and dashing Count Karnstein (Damien Thomas), who prefers his hotties live and ready for Count-mounting. 

            Enter Weil's identical cutie-pie nieces Maria and Frieda (the Collinsons). Maria's a gentle sweety but wild child Frieda unwisely hangs out with the Count, who's been freshly turned into a vampire. The foolish Frieda, naturally, becomes a seductive bloodsucker after getting fanged by the Count. 

            And then, bring on the expected chaos, as Weil and company storm Castle Karnstein and poor Maria ends up scheduled as the next main attraction on the town's barbecue.

            It does sound like fun, and some of the gore is startling. The twins are indeed a dream to gaze upon and their amateur stabs at acting could've come out a lot worse, so we shouldn't complain.  Cushing's cold blooded rage and frenzy does both him and film proud and director John Hough moves things along with trim efficiency. 

            Just don't expect the glossy, classy sheen that made the Hammer Horrors of the 50's and 60's so unforgettable and iconic. In the anything-goes, free-for-all 70's, they're simply trying to stay afloat.....

          3 stars (***)

            

               

'KINDS OF KINDNESS'........LANTHIMOS' BIZARRO WORLD....BUT REALLY, IS IT ALL THAT BIZARRO IN 2024?

 Kinds Of Kindness (2024)   If this Yorgos Lanthimos 2 & 1/2 hour slog into upside-down weird absurdity had come out a decade or so ago, we might have reviewed it like this?

          "A trio of stories taking place in a warped Bizarro World of casual cruelty, insanity, routine carnage, sexual assault and demented obsessions......all designed to make you scratch your head in disbelief, cringe in your seat, or snicker at the lunacy of it all...."

         That overall description of the film still holds true......but with one unsettling observation....

         In 2024, is the behavior of the characters in "Kinds Of Kindness" all that Bizarro?

         In about 8 weeks from now, we face the very real danger of the United States falling into the hands of one the most despicable, depraved and psychotic human beings who ever walked the face of the earth.......thanks to millions of people who sacrificed their minds and sold their souls to worship him like a deity. (Especially the most supposed pious of them....)

       So forgive us if we don't gasp and sputter at this film's steeped-in-irony spectacle of watching people who've incorporated madness into their everyday lifestyles. 

         There's a reason we titled our Friday current events post "Weekend Madness Wrap-Up".  How can any fictitious plunge into Bizarro World that filmmakers splatter on the screen ever hope to compare with today's daily headlines?

         We'll not go into a tedious recitation of the three separate stories on display here, cast in repertory theater style with the same core group of actors playing different roles in each episode. (Jesse Plemons, Emma Stone, Willem Defoe, Margaret Qualley, Joe Alwyn, Mamoudou Athie)

        Imagine an R-rated 'Twilight Zone' stretched out to the butt-numbing length of a self-indulgent Culture Vulture film festival entry. Unwatchable even with its deliberate excesses of sex and violence. 

         Yes, the film's no doubt designed to provoke an audience into heated discussions and arguments about its themes and intentions.....but we smell a pretentious poseur in Lanthimos, so we're not buyin' into it.

          If you're a cinema completist who simply must watch it, (BQ's excuse), view it as a deliberately warped funhouse mirror image of...uh....'the way we live now'. Where every normal value and guardposts of civilized society are out the window.....gone with the wind.  Everybody else can get the same effect by just turning on the nightly news. 

          Our strong advice.....absorb it only in half hour increments at a time....like periodic teaspoons of foul tasting medicine. 

          (Honestly, if there'd been any actor in this less charismatic than Emma Stone, we're not sure we could've sat through even 10 minutes of it, let alone 164.)

          1/2 of a star, and that's only for Emma. 

         

           

           

WEEKEND MADNESS WRAP-UP.....EXCLUSIVE! BQ ASKS TRUMP TO EXPLAIN HIMSELF.......

BQ recently snuck into Mar-A-Lago (cleverly disguised as J.D. Vance, wringing a cat's neck) and managed to corral the ex-President for an interview.....(sealing the deal by promising not to release the photo we snapped of him doctoring his golf scores...)  

      We proudly present the unedited (God help us) transcript:

BQ: Mr. ex-President and current felon, could you take us through that explanation you gave on Child Care, 'cause it seemed a little unclear to us....and pretty much everyone else who heard it.

Trump: That's cause you're part of the crooked lamestream media who twists all the good words I know.....and they're the best words, believe me, nobody knows words like me, they're all very stable genius words. 

BQ: Such as.....

Trump: Okay, let's take Child Care. That's three words.  Nobody takes care of children like I do, having raised two idiot sons, the beautiful, kissable Ivanka, that that tall kid that Melenoma squirted out, and whats-her-name. And that's way more kids than anybody in the world has ever had, even Hannibal Lector. You know, Dr. Lector, I don't think he even had kids.....maybe he did after all, but chances are, they got eaten by sharks when they jumped off an electric boat  The statistics are scary, trust me.

BQ: Scary indeed, whenever you speak. Let's get back to child care......

Trump: The great thing about Child Care, is....and I know this for a fact, is that you can't be childless if you're gonna have children...see, once you do, you're officially off the 'childless' demographic, because....well, you got kids in the house so you could finally get rid of that darn cat. Did you know that was a Disney movie long ago....that darn cat. Just filled with childless women just like J.D. warned about.....that's the Hollywood elites for you, they let cats run all over their movies, but they kill that nice dog Old Yeller.

BQ:  We'll make no attempt here to understand what you just said. But you do know Old Yeller was insane with rabies and foaming at the mouth.....much like yourself when you're speaking publicly.

Trump: That was very unfair and typical of your bias, just like that ABC news crowd, like George Shumck-a-dopolis and Opie Winfrey.....you know I remember when Opie was so little on that TV show, who knew he was gonna grow up and make that movie about J.D.'s inbred family, what was it called again?  The Beverly Hillbilly Elephant Man?

BQ: Mr. ex-president and Putin-lover, I hate to point this out, but you've spoken nothing but utterly incomprehensible gibberish since we started this interview.  

Trump: No wonder I'm leading in all the polls, or at least the ones they're polling with people who move their lips when they read. And brain-dead women on life support, you wouldn't believe how my numbers are skyrocketing within that group. All these incredible groups they're sampling.....Puerto Rico dwarves, Teenage AR-15 gun clubs, Aging Republicans in the final stages of Alzheimers and Hulk Hogan's immediate family.....I'm leading in all those groups. But I don't think you'll report that , will you?

BQ: Actually, we're posting all of what transpired here....in a word for word transcript. 

Trump: Well, you should leave out the word 'trans' cause my MAGA foot soldiers won't tolerate those tootie-frooties trying to figure out what bathroom they're suppose to use. And when I'm at some public event, how am I supposed to figure out who's pussy to squeeze...or if even if it really is a pussy that tucked under there.

BQ: Thank you for taking the time to speak with us, Mr. Trump. Once again, you 've given us a clear look at who you are, what you are, and how unfit you are for the Presidency. 

Trump:  I'm completely fit, believe me. My doctor says I could live another 50 to sixty years, just like those Sequoias.....wait, aren't they an NBA basketball team? Jeez I hope they're not ugly women......

BQ: Good night Mr. President.....you always top yourself......

SO SORRY...BQ UNDONE BY TECHNOLOGY GONE AWRY!

      Our ability to post has been thwarted by our evil, malignant laptop, which at only 8 months old, went belly up yesterday. While it's currently in intensive care, we'll try to find an alternate path to keep on bloggin'.  

      We knew something went wrong when the Satanic machine began warbling, "Daisy....Daisy....give me your answer do...."

         Stay tuned......like Arnold's Terminator, we'll be back. And hopefully sooner than the next James Bond movie.....

'THE TRAP'.....AGENT EMMA ONCE AGAIN VERSUS DASTARDLY RUSSIANS....

 The Trap by Ava Glass (2024)

       Overjoyed to get my hands on Ava Glass’s third thrill ride adventure about another dangerous mission for the young, fearless British spy, Emma Makepeace.

      Emma, working for a “sort of” offshoot of British Intelligence MI6, once again faces off against her lifelong hated enemies of the Russian secret service. (Her father died at their hands when she was a child.) And once again, they’re up to no good -planning some kind of catastrophic, violent disruption of the U.S.-European G7 economic summit due to happen at a Scottish castle in Edinburgh.

      Our girl Emma’s tasked with surveilling and then befriending (in…uh.. possibly more ways than one) Nick Orlov, a former Russian citizen turned millionaire oil dealer based in Edinburgh. He’s a dashing, handsome notorious ladies man, but now he’s being pressured by brutal Russian agents to help them in whatever terroristic event they’ve cooked up for the G7.

      From there, it’s one swift, suspenseful moment after another as Emma throws herself into harm’s way to get to the bottom of things, foil the Russians, and save the free world while bravely serving on His Majesty’s Secret Service. Along the way she ends up with an unlikely but invaluable partner in suffer-no-fools Scottish cop Kate Mackenzie and a stunning personal surprise for herself.

      For all lovers of action-adventure spy fiction, this series is a 5 star must. (*****) And since the James Bond producers move at the rate of dead snails to make another one, here’s the best book to curl up with till they get around to it.  

'WHAT TIME THE SEXTON'S BLADE DOTH RUST'...OUR FAVORITE GIRL DETECTIVE'S NEWEST, MOST SURPRISING CASE.....

 What Time The Sexton's Blade Doth Rust by Alan Bradley (2024)

     This is one of those books that gives you such a pleasurable reading experience that you’re sorry to see it end, and you start missing the main characters as soon as if you’ve reached the last page.

     I’m at a loss as to who could resist the almost teen-aged Flavia de Luce – frighteningly erudite, wise beyond her years, and brilliant chemist whose mastery of poisons and assorted clues make her rival Sherlock Holmes. Not to mention her stream of devasting insights, observations and witticisms that make her sound like a wicked combination of Oscar Wilde, Noel Coward and George Bernard Shaw.

     As in the previous 10 episodes of this series, we’re back in early 1950’s post-war England, where the orphaned Flavia lives in her family’s country estate with her two older sisters. She’s currently being driven to the point of near murder by her wild-child, holy terror younger cousin Undine, who more than matches Flavia in her capacity boldness, outrageous behavior and overall troublemaking.

     Speaking of murder, there’s the question of who poisoned Major Grayleigh, a retired hangman who lived in a neighboring cottage. Suspicion falls on Flavia’s beloved family cook Mrs. Mullet, who also prepared the Major’s breakfast, but Flavia, of course, knows better. Cracking the case is up to her and longtime estate gardener Dogger, her partner-in-crime-solving and friend of her late father. Joining the hunt, whether anyone likes it or not, is the ever present, constantly infuriating but somehow strangely endearing Undine.

     But on her way to identifying the killer and motive, there’s some truly earthshaking twists and revelations in store for Flavia that go far beyond the murder of Major Grayleigh. It’s pure storytelling bliss to watch her face up to and defiantly face down some of the most daunting situations thrown in her path. And the wit and wisdom in her narration can leave you either smiling, laughing out loud and sighing for her……sometimes all in the same paragraph.

      If that isn’t a 5 star read, I don’t know what is. I don’t even want to think about the possibility of this being the last book in the series…too depressing to contemplate. Please, Alan Bradly.....way it isn't so.

(*****)