'THE NIGHT DIGGER'.....BETTER LEFT BURIED....

 The Night Digger (1971)   One of the reasons I began this blog was my unceasing search for obscure, oddball, long, long forgotten films.....(primarily from the 60's and 70's....)

            In 8 years worth of posts, I dug up more than a few of them......some of them real gems, some of them...eh...not so much.....some of them hilariously batshit crazy......and sadly, some of them that remain as worthless, dull and no fun at all of watch......

            This one belongs in that last category.......

            But what a surprising trio to encounter in this film, a neither fish-nor-fowl concoction that never makes up its mind whether it's a thriller or a drama. 

            A screenplay by Roald Dahl. The lead role done by his then wife Patricia Neal, making a valiant re-entry into films after a debilitating stroke. And music by the supreme (but irascible) maestro genius Bernard Herrmann. 

            The result......next to nothing. A film that disappears before your eyes while you're still watching it........wondering what in holy hell attracted these people to this whats-it of a movie.

            Neal's a sad, lonely spinster, bullied and browbeaten by her imperious all-controlling mother (Pamela Brown), a blind invalid in their crumbling mansion.  Then along comes a decidedly creepy young man on motorcycle (Nicholas Clay) whom Brown hires as a handyman, imagining he's a long lost relative. 

              Creepy as he is, Clay manages to gradually thaw the frosty Neal into romance.......even though he's actually a psycho impotent incel who kills and buries young women. 

               Bernard Herrmann checks in from time to time, with that familiar Herrmann-esque heaving of symphonic dread. But you sense with your own ears that the footage hardly sparked the composer's imagination. The music never rises above generic Herrmann. 

                Clay alternately glowers and whines as the boyish killer. Neal sighs wistfully, sheds a few tears, moans about the roads not taken, but looks positively smashing when she breaks free of Brown, runs off with Clay and gives herself a makeover.

                 The only time writer Dahl comes alive is when he throws in a running gag about Brown mistakenly thinking the town minister and his wife are getting operations to switch genders. Huh?  (I got the feeling the only reason Dahl wrote this script was to find a place for that gag.....)

                By the time I came to the dull, dumb ending, I knew I'd tossed away 90 precious minutes of life by viewing this. I strongly suggest nobody make the same mistake I did. 1 star (*) , only for Patricia Neal and Herrmann's contributions. 

'EYES OF LAURA MARS'....WHO DUNAWAY WITH ALL THOSE PEOPLE AROUND FAYE?

 Eyes Of Laura Mars (1978)   I'm aware some critics think of this one as an American-ized 'Giallo'......a psycho-sexual thriller littered with stabbed corpses and a surprise reveal of the killer. 

            A fair enough assessment. There's loads of trendy, stylized visuals, a semi-paranormal talent given to the lead, and a general indifferent coldness to the rapidly increasing body count.......all the qualities you'd find in all those many Italian slashers that flooded cinema after Dario Argento's trend-starting  1970 "The Bird With The Crystal Plumage".

           Plus it features the added bonus of  supreme 1970's diva-goddess Faye Dunaway in the title role, an upscale fashion photographer who stages her supermodels in gory poses as murder victims. Naturally, the expensive coffee-table book of Laura-Faye's photos is a Dunaway runaway best seller......

           Turns out, somebody's really into her artistic visions with a vengeance, slicing and dicing Laura's friends, associates and models with....uh....cutting edge frenzy. (But not, I should point out, with the over abundance of splatter you'd see in a Giallo. This is, after all, mainstream Hollywood product, and not meant as a gore-wallow for fanboys.)

            At first, Laura doesn't know what to make of John Neville, the hip, sardonic detective assigned to catch the killer. And who could blame her, since he's played by that vaguely dangerously looking young actor, Tommy Lee Jones. Oddly enough, Neville begins to believe in Laura's ability to endure sudden, startling images of  the murders, as seen  from the killer's point-of-view.   Hmmmmm......

           More than anything that goes on in this movie, I had more fun imagining the behind-the-scenes  moments that might've transpired between the notoriously high-strung, capricious Dunaway and the blunt, suffer-no-fools Jones. Oh, to be a fly the wall......

            But back to the movie.......where Laura and Neville end up hot 'n heavy on the sheets, much to the raised eyebrows of Neville's fellow detectives. Meanwhile, our dedicated psycho-slasher goes about the required business of wiping out the supporting cast, one after the other.

            You'll hear no spoilers from me, though I can't resist pointing out that you can spot the Big Twist Reveal from about a hundred miles away.....but somehow that doesn't make the movie any less entertaining to watch. 

            Why's that?  Lots of great folks sprinkled into the cast, most prominently Rene Auberjonois (Laura's tempestuous agent), Raul Julia (Laura's deadbeat ex husband) and the ever twitchy Brad Dourif  (as Laura's lowlife, ex-criminal chauffer) 

             And top notch personnel behind the camera as well, with the story originating with that new young up-and-coming writer-director John Carpenter (!!) and typically efficient direction by tireless journeyman Irvin Kershner (of "The Empire Strikes Back", "Robocop 2" and "Never Say Never Again")

            Producer Jon Peters couldn't talk his then girlfriend Barbra Streisand into playing Laura Mars and settled for her lending her full warble to the end credits song........and you don't normally hear La Streisand vocalizing in a movie where virtually nobody's left alive at the fade-out.....

           Maybe not completely successful as a homegrown Giallo (not nearly enough perversity and blood dripping delirium to qualify), but still an enjoyable guilty pleasure anyway.  If you love thrillers and the actors involved, it's worth checking out at least once....3 stars (***).

             

          

WEEKEND MADNESS WRAP-UP.....SPECIAL 'REEKER OF THE HOUSE' EDITION

 Maga-Moron election denier Mike Johnson elected as GOP Speaker Of The House.....and hits the ground running, introducing legislation to fund special prisons to hold all pregnant women until they give birth...(".....which will eliminate any temptation they have to run out and seek abortions. It's time these cows knew their place...")

Maga-Moron Christian Nationalist Speaker Of The House Mike Johnson says it's "too soon" to discuss guns, after the latest slaughter of innocents in Maine......but Johnson did offer some comfort to survivors of the massacre and grieving families of the slain....(".....for only $39.95, my office will send you this beautiful, collectible carved-in-oak plaque inscribed "Thoughts And Prayers From Mike and all of us in the GOP"....and here's the bonus, it comes with a built in compartment to store whatever's left of your late loved ones, in case they've been too chewed up by the AR--15.....operators are waiting for your toll-free call!")

Trump's collection of 'fake elector' lawyers start pleading guilty in return for flipping on Trump...to which Trump responds, "None of these people were ever my lawyers.....I never heard of any of them....I thought they were Grub Hub drivers dropping off my KFC buckets....")

Sydney ("Release The Kraken') Powell, the looniest of Trump's election steal plot conspirators, becomes the first to seek a plea deal in exchange for testifying against him.....causing Trump to immediately rant on Truth Social..."Sydney who? Poitier? Isn't he dead?  Sydney Sweeney? Smokin' babe, almost as hot as Ivanka, I'd do her,  but I don't know her.  Powell?  I thought she was the coffee girl......."

Mark Meadows, Trump's Chief-Of Staff, takes immunity deal to testify for prosecutor Jack Smith about the January 6th charges....prompting Trump to post, ""Meadows?  Do I know him? Never heard of him. I think maybe he's the guy who came in once a week to throw out the McDonald's boxes...."

'KILLERS OF THE FLOWER MOON'.....MOST SADDEST, HONEST REVIEW WE'VE EVER POSTED....

 Killers Of The Flower Moon (2023)    In all the reviews I've written for this blog, there's never been one I so dreaded to work on as this one. Let's get this over with.......

          Screw the 5 star reviews.

          Screw the 4 star reviews

          Screw any reviewer, blogger, pundit or awards show that celebrates this film is some kind of classic.

          I'm only being polite by using the word 'screw'. You know the real word I mean.....

          Time for pure honesty here. 

          I don't give a rat's ass how many nominations this racks up and how many actual awards it actually wins. It deserves neither nominations nor awards. Only contempt for the turning out as an epic fail.

          I anticipated loving this movie. Thrilling to it. Rushing out to become the first person in the store to buy the Blu-Ray.

          Instead, it gave out nothing but crushing disappointment. A tragic experience of watching what could have been one of the finest films of the 21st Century and a shining, penultimate achievement of a legendary director, a living cinema icon.  The tragedy of viewing a terribly botched failure, ruined with wrong decisions on virtually every level of its filmmaking. 

          When I read the book a year ago, knowing Martin Scorsese's film was in production, I practically drooled with anticipation.  What a powerhouse, gut-wrenching true story, one of the darkest, little known episodes of American greed, racism and uncontrolled violence. 

          And who better to put it all on the screen but Scorsese, the master of films that grab you by the throat, shake you like an earthquake and won't let go of you until the end credits roll. 

          And now look at the film that emerged.

          A painful to watch, slow, tedious, dramatically flat and punishingly overlong slog at 3 and half hours. Like watching a series of barely animated still photos.......like watching a Blu-Ray where the director took an hour's worth of pointless, repetitive, deleted scenes and put them back into the movie. 

          A complete misery to sit through, with all of the life and potential dramatic power drained away. Filled with ruinous choices, the worst of which involves making the film revolve around its most peripheral, uninteresting character. 

           Yes, I'm referring to the simpering idiot played by Leonardo DiCaprio. And the film's cursed with endless close-ups of his face in a permanent grimace, as if he's undergoing a prostate exam that's longer than the film. 

            For all of his attempts to honor the Osage native Americans at the heart of the story, Scorsese succeeded only in disrespecting them in the worst ways possible.  The film's not only unwatchable, it's focus is so malignantly warped on the wrong characters it's a disgrace. 

            I didn't ever think it possible, but Martin Scorsese made exactly the kind of film I loathe and despise with all my heart. An Oscar-Bait film.......a film that sits up and begs for accolades like a panting dog begging for treats.....and doesn't care if the film itself is torture for any audience to sit through.......

           Somewhere toward the end, John Lithgow and Brendan Fraser show up and in the minute or two allotted to them, make a 'Hail Mary' attempt to pump some life in the film.....by overacting themselves into a frenzy. Sorry guys, but nope. Too little, too late. And Fraser appears still carrying weight from "The Whale", looking like a Macy's Thanksgiving Day balloon......

            Only at the very, very end does the film at long last come alive.....

           Those last few minutes......when Scorsese suddenly remembers who he is, develops a pulse and delivers an epilogue both clever, ironic, compelling......and cinematic.  For those brief minutes, if anyone's still awake (or even still even in the theater), you can at least see what Scorsese's capable of  when he's at his most inventive and creative. 

           But then again, it's a few minutes out of 207 minutes......

          I'll not go on. As I mentioned, I'm beyond sad to write a review like this for of all things, a Martin Scorsese film. Still can't wrap my head around it. 

           For the epilogue, 1 star (*).  Without it, I would've been forced to type Zero. 

'WEST HEART KILL'.....WHEN AN M.F.A. THESIS MASQUERADES AS A NOVEL......

 West Heart Kill by Dann McDorman (2023)

             I'm at a complete loss as to whom this book would appeal to beyond graduate students or doctoral candidates seeking M.F.A.'s or PhD's in literature.

             Yes, there's a murder mystery that sporadically wanders and in and out of the book, but about 75 per cent of "West Heart Kill" is devoted to an exhaustive academic treatise on the murder mystery as a literary art form.......origins, beginnings, histories, the breakdown of all the sub-genres and their individual tropes. And the author uses the actual plot he's concocted as a sort of a slide-show visual aid for his 'Murder Mystery 101' college course lectures.

               While I admire the ambitious intent here, it makes for a tedious, annoying read. And I really began to run out of patience with the book as it swung back and forth from its whodunit storyline to the author's meticulous analysis of the characters and events as they apply to his literally forensic research into mystery genres. 

               The story used to illustrate the lectures involves a private eye who managed an invite to an uppercrust hunting lodge on the July 4th weekend of 1976. The vast upstate New York club's membership consists, naturally of ultra-wealthy families afflicted with endless dysfunctions and secrets........infidelities, shady finances, dark histories, and tragic accidents that maybe weren't accidental. So with such a toxic collection of individuals, more dead bodies don't come as a big surprise.

                 Once I realized the author's pushing these obnoxious characters around like chess pieces to illustrate his points, I lost all interest in who did what to whom. All the academia stuff does display some sharp wit from time to time, as do the P.I.'s interrogations of the various suspects.... and halfway through the book, Dann McDorman gives up on prose altogether, reducing the mystery sections to simple Q. & A's or in the form of stage play excerpts. 

                Just as well, since the plot's only used for the author's power point presentation anyway. English majors who read mysteries may get some overall entertainment out of this, but as for me....... sorry, but I didn't sign on for a college course. 2 stars (**). And I'm being generous here......

'DIAMOND HEAD'.....CHARLTON HESTON LORDS IT OVER PINEAPPLES AND PEOPLE ALIKE

 Diamond Head (1962).....efficiently goes about its business of being an overheated widescreen, Technicolored soap opera.....a Hawaii "Peyton Place", with a sprinkling of  racial animosity that powered the Texas-set classic "Giant". 

           Set amidst a vast Pineapple plantation, the film takes place in 1959 as Hawaii's on the verge of statehood.  The new state's powerbrokers tap the all-powerful Prince Of Pineapples 'King Howland' to become their first U.S. Senator.

             Of course they would. 'King' is played to jaw-clenching perfection by the master of  cinematic all-powerful, arrogant self-righteous bastards....Charlton Heston.  Nobody outplays Heston when he's in his full Alpha Male, My-World-And-The-Rest-Of-You-Just-Live-In It  dominance.......

             Much trouble in paradise, though. King's college graduate sister Sloane (Yvette Mimieux) plans to marry Hawaiian native hunk Paul (James Darren). King, a profound white supremacist against race mixing, won't hear of it. He'll have no native boy dipping his swarthy organ into his blonde  little sis,  even though he himself enjoys secretly boinking lovely native girl Mai Chen (France Nuyen). And Mei ,by the way, is carrying King's child.....

            To stir up this bubbling stew even more, throw in Mai Chen's worthless, layabout brother Bobby (Marc Marno),who plans blackmailing King about his upcoming love child. And then there's also Paul's smoldering, dour brother Dean (George Chakiris, fresh from "West Side Story"), a doctor nursing a lifelong crush on Sloane. 

             Oh my, the complications pile up. Tempers are lost, passions aroused, leading one participant to turn alcoholic (who could blame 'em).....and not every character makes it out this mess alive.......that is, if anyone cares, one way or the other.

             I wish I could tell you this film is a glorious, unintentionally funny guilty pleasure....(along the lines of Preminger's "Hurry Sundown"). But no. Nothing but indifferently acted, machine-tooled, connect-the-dots melodramatics, with not a single memorable moment or scene in sight. 

           Its one and only burst out of standard mediocrity comes courtesy of its rushed and ridiculous finale scene. Only then does "Diamond Head" attain the laughable idiocy that would have rendered the rest of it so much more fun to watch........

            Strictly for soap opera addicts and Charlton Heston completists. For anyone else, BQ recommends you bid it 'aloha'.....1 star (*).(And the one star's only for frequent shots of Yvette Mimieux in a bathing suit.....)

              

'UNFRIENDED'......LAPTOP LAP DOGS TROLLED INTO HELL.....

Unfriended (2014).....I intended to pass this one by until I caught a recent story on a movie website I stop in to visit sometimes......

           The gist:  the story recommended horror fans check this film out, since Neflix was due to kick its ass out in a few days.....

            So I did, aware it fell into that sub-genre of "on line horror", taking place entirely in the wild west frontier of cyberspace (zoom meetings, facebook posts, twitter rants, youtube videos, yada, yady yada...

           At least I'm thankful the article recommended viewing the film on a laptop, for a more fully immersive experience. (as if you're one of the characters in the film....)  On a medium sized flatscreen I'm not sure I could've caught all the make believe Google searches and whatnot.....

            Now let's all turn the clock back 9 years and crash a zoom chat with bunch of millennial college students.....all stuck to their social media accounts as if welded to their laptops.....and all possessing I.Q.s somewhere between a carrot and Marjorie Taylor Greene......

             One of their old pals felt bullied and agonized enough to shoot herself....live on YouTube. The survivors try to make sense of the tragedy, but their on line confab picked up an uninvited participant....the pissed-as-hell, still dead friend, back from the grave and ready to rumble her old buddies right into the afterlife with her.....

              Here's the point at which you start to wonder why don't these self-absorbed dopes close their laptops and move on to the actual adventure of living their lives untethered from social media......

             Ah, but then we wouldn't have a movie, would we?  

            Therefore this confederacy of dunces stay glued to their screens, driven into terrified hysteria as Evil Dead Friend somehow provokes them into gory suicides, one by one.  And while on their merry way to agonized deaths,  they feel compelled to reveal all many their toxic betrayals of each other, ....(as if we didn't already hold a low enough opinion of them.....

            I won't go on, other than mentioning, if you take on-line junk out of the equation, all that's really left here is a bottom-of-the-barrel, Friday date night horror film........comprised of massively stupid young people making massively stupid choices that the audience knows will lead to them splattered on the wall....

             Zero stars (0).....it makes YouTube videos of piano playing cats seem like Academy Award  winners......Don't befriend it.....