He Walked By Night (1948)

Director: Alfred L. Werker

Cast: Richard Basehart, Scott Brady, Roy Roberts, Jack Webb

Have I Seen It Before: Never. At this point it approaches a tired cliché to say that I’ll go see anything as long as it is projected in 35mm, but here we are again. Of note, Josh Fadem mentioned in his introduction of the film that Circle actually got the clearance to project the film, only for me to realize in getting the above details that the film is actually in the public domain.

Did I Like It: The danger in embracing anything along the lines of a mockumentary is that you’re already tempted to lean on voice over narration like a crutch, and that’s exactly what happened here. This would be a murky enough choice if the film didn’t also suddenly realize (an uncredited director came into the mix at some point here) that things were starting off on the wrong foot and decided to become a more straight ahead noir thriller.

I actually enjoyed the final act, where the net slowly but inevitably closes in on Roy (Basehart). Intellectually, I understand that the poor guy is doomed, but I catch myself as the film unfurls wondering if he actually does have all the angles—or at least all the turns in the Los Angeles sewer system—all figured out. Maybe it was just because I felt sorry for his dog being abandoned once the chase begins. If the whole film had been like that, I’d be raving that it was able to make me go with the flow of its plot and not engage with any cynicism. Instead, it is a film with a muddled point of view, at best. At least Jack Webb picked up a yeoman’s salary and an idea that would be the first line of his obituary.

Friday the 13th - Part III (1982)

Director: Steve Miner

Cast: Dana Kimmell, Paul Kratka, Richard Brooker, Tracie Savage

Have I Seen it Before: Maybe? Don’t they all bleed together? At this point, I get more and more excited at the prospect of Friday the 13th Part VII: Jason Takes Manhattan (1989), just to get something a little bit different going on.

Did I Like It: That last sentence probably tells you everything you need to know. The best I can say about this series at this point is that they have managed to finally trip over some iconic imagery. Jason (Brooker) finally has his goalie mask*. So what? Not much of anything, really, but it is sort of a marvel that it takes three movies for a series to look like itself. If I’m going to reach for anything more nice to say, I can at least say that the film—unlike its predecessors—is no longer trying to shamelessly imitate other, better films. Even the Hermann-esque score of the first two parts is replaced by a disco riff that I can’t imagine made its way into dance venues in the late summer of 1982.

If things weren’t bad enough, the cinematography has taken a plunge. This film would have looked vapid if I was still able to see it in the originally intended 3D. Knives fly at the frame, other weapons are lunged in our faces, and even baseball bats that have nothing to do with the rest of the scene are all a prolonged practice in perspective that looks like someone just took an introductory drawing class.

All we’re left with is a dearth of tension (ingenues scream on cue, but otherwise don’t move or emote like someone facing a mortal dilemma) and mindless violences, cheaply and profitably produced.

*Although here he also sports a fashionably conservative jacket and khaki slacks. Minus the hydrocephaly and the machete, it almost reminds me of Kelsey Grammer’s fashion sense in the revised Frasier.

Innerspace (1987)

Director: Joe Dante

Cast: Dennis Quaid, Martin Short, Meg Ryan, Kevin McCarthy

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, sure. I might have been compelled to include this in the reviews much earlier, as it was playing during the marathon of movies where I got to meet Dante*. As it came fresh off the now infamous summer of 2023 blackout, I opted to go home before it started to sleep in an air conditioned bed for the first time in over a week. Alas.

Did I Like It: There are movies Joe Dante directs where he is allowed (or maybe he stole?) free reign to do whatever he wanted, then there are those movies where he is hired to do a job, and inevitably does a yeoman’s job. Oddly enough, this one falls somewhere in the middle, which has a certain refreshing quality to it. At it’s core, it’s not much more than a slightly modernized riff on Fantastic Voyage (1966), which is interesting enough. The script justifies itself by forging together an odd couple out of all-American Quaid (how has he never played Jonathan Kent, when his son has already played Superman?) and comic goofball Short. Their chemistry fuel the movie almost entirely, made all the more impressive that the two stars barely share a few minutes of screen time physically, shifting the pitch on this film from an Odd Couple meets Fantastic Voyage to a high-concept comedy version of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982). Throw in some Looney Tunes-fueled high energy sequences, and you’ve got perhaps not Dante’s greatest film, but certainly one worth a watch all the same.

*I told him that Gremlins 2: The New Batch (1990) and Matinee (1993) were two of my favorite films. He politely thanked me, but there was an undercurrent to the thanks that—perhaps appropriately so—wished I had seen more movies. Alas.

Tell It To The Marines (1926)

Director: George W. Hill

Cast: Lon Chaney, William Haines, Eleanor Boardman, Eddie Gribbon

Have I Seen it Before: Never.

Did I Like It: We once again play another round of the perennial game in these reviews: What genres in a silent movie age at all well*? So far we’ve decided that comedy is usually a pretty good bet. Horror and Science Fiction can have its charms, if for no other reason than to even try fanciful genres prior to 1927 virtually ensured that the production design is a cut above. Drama? Probably not. Mystery? Even less likely.

Now we come to patriotic melodrama, and as somebody who didn’t serve in the military, the experience of watching the film definitely feels like spending a little over an hour and a half patiently listening to the explanation of an inside joke, only to be told at the end of it, “Well, you had to be there.” Take my thoughts for what they were worth, but there were more than a few hearty chuckles from some of the other people in the theater during Veteran’s Day weekend.

That being said, there are a few elements that recommend the film. Footage after the Marine recruits are shipped out are of a sufficiently epic scope that either the filmmakers went a step above what might have been good enough so far as production value, or that director George W. Hill and editor Blanche Sewell made especially apt choices in matching stock footage to their scenarios. Additionally, Chaney’s performance and aesthetic (in sharp contrast to his more famous horror roles) looks like he could be a drill sergeant today, or at least a believable one in a movie today.

*Some of you out there might be of the mind that any film in black and white—to say nothing of any film released before the advent of synchronized sound—isn’t worth another look. You’re wrong. I’m sure I’m very found of you if you’ve made it to this site, but you’re wrong.

Blade (1998)

Director: Stephen Norrington

Cast: Wesley Snipes, Stephen Dorff, Kris Kirstofferson, N’Bushe Wright

Have I Seen it Before: I think so. If I truly have, it largely disappeared from my memory. That can’t be a good sign, right?

Did I Like It: So many people view this as an edgy vanguard of the era of superhero movies that was to follow, and all I’m left with is trying to figure out precisely why. The Daywalker (Snipes) is such an obscure character in the realm of comics, even now. It wasn’t exactly like the mere notion of seeing the character depicted on screen filled us with collective wonder.

The early CGI effects are the stuff of B movies in retrospect so much so to the point that I have a hard time imagining we weren’t watching vampires explode in polygonal eruptions of viscera and thinking that New Line wasn’t particularly interested in the film succeeded.

It’s basically a very average action movie. In fact, I might even venture to say that it is the last of the great, mindless action movies that were king in the 1980s before they inevitably started hiding out exclusively in the direct-to-video marketing.

So from where do all of these positive memories come from? It exists almost solely in Wesley Snipes’ persona. He never broods, even when another movie might be forgiven for defaulting to brooding. If anything, he seems to be of the opinion that he’s in an entirely different movie than the rest of the characters. That sounds like a criticism, but twenty-five years later the crowd with which I saw the film may have lost patience with most of the film over two hours (or at least wish that Guillermo del Toro had directed the entire series), we may have groaned with every attempt at effects (“special” doesn’t really apply), but we all laughed with every quip Snipes had to offer.

Is that enough for an entire movie? Maybe, but just by an inch.

Hell Bound (1957)

Director: William J. Hole, Jr.

Cast: John Russell, June Blair, Stuart Whitman, Margo Woode

Have I Seen it Before: Never.

Did I Like It: The film is filled with all of the trappings of the noir genre. Criminal plan meant to put all of the characters on easy street is so well planned that it is absolutely inevitable that all of the bad twists of luck and betrayals, the plot will lead to pretty much everybody getting themselves killed. Some play with those constraints, somehow manage to wring a little surprise out of those trappings and rise to the top of the genre. Others move their camp quotient to a level where one would have to be mostly cardboard to not be entertained.

Then there’s this one. I could live to be 1000-years-old, and I will never quite understand why Jordan (Russell) is so down on his luck that he needs to reach for the convoluted scheme to separate the cache of nondescript drugs from an incoming ship and yet can still afford to make a short industrial film pitching the scheme to his backers. I suppose every Noir film needs to set up the scheme just so we can see it all unravel, but making industrial films feels like a semi-lucrative way to make a living, right?

Frankly, I considered not even writing a review of this one. Years ago when I started writing these reviews, I decided that I wouldn’t write a review for any movie where I fell asleep while watching. It’s a big reason why I’ve yet to get a review posted for A League of Their Own (1992). Frankly I fell asleep in the middle of this film, too. Unfortunately, I don’t think I missed much. On the plus side, being relaxed enough to fall asleep in the middle of a movie is its own reward sometimes.

Zorro, the Gay Blade (1981)

Director: Peter Medak

Cast: George Hamilton, Lauren Hutton, Rob Leibman, Brenda Vaccaro

Have I Seen it Before: Never. You might have a tricky time seeing it yourself, as the film has disappeared in the cracks of the streaming wars, discs going out of print, and the acquisition of 20th Century Fox by Disney… But I have my ways and a few people making requests.

Did I Like It: It is better than The Legend of Zorro (2005), but that isn’t exactly a hard standard to achieve. It is not as good as either The Mark of Zorro (1920), the 1940 remake, or The Mask of Zorro (1998). That’s probably a much harder level.

After you lament that a film has disappeared, you must then must ask why a film disappears. There are the alarmists who might say that censorship run rampant. I think it’s usually a bit more banal than that, especially as there is not a single dangerous idea in such a film as this. Nor should there be.

The problem is that the entire film hinges on a joke that, not to spoil a 40-plus year old film, you might be able to guess by seeing the movie’s title. It’s the kind of thing that is certainly offensive to some, but also so cliché that you almost sympathize with the large entertainment conglomerate’s lack of a rush to get the film out onto Blu Ray, 4K, or even a streaming service for all to enjoy.

And yet, I don’t dismiss the film entirely. There were several moments where I caught myself laughing not so much at the hoary concept, but at some genuinely inventive wordplay. I also must give credit to Hamilton. Even when the movie groans around him, there’s never a moment of malice in Hamilton’s dual portrayals.

Fade to Black (1980)

Director: Vernon Zimmerman

Cast: Dennis Christopher, Tim Thomerson, Gwynne Gilford, Linda Kerridge

Have I Seen it Before: Never. In the middle of this year on Beyond the Cabin in the Woods—for those keeping track, it was immediately after Cat People (1982)—that I don’t make recommendations of films for us to watch for the podcast based solely on the fact that Roger Ebert liked it. For the rest of the year, this movie was staring at me as a future violation already put into the schedule, made all the worse that it was going to be our season finale.

Did I Like It: I wish I liked it more. I really do. There’s plenty to enjoy about the trappings of the film. If I could work at a film distributor warehouse like Eric Binford (Christopher), that may be all I need out of a professional life. Getting to wander around Los Angeles going to repertory screenings, and basically living without any other measurable responsibilities? Tell me that’s not what you would want, either.

And that’s where the problems being to make themselves apparent. It might be better that Binford had a psychotic break when he did in the early 80s, because one gets the sense that things could have been far worse after the advent of Digital Cinema Projection.

And things become harder to take from there. The seams can’t help but show themselves. Why does Binford dress up as Dracula—and clearly the Bela Lugosi version of the Count—to a screening of Night of the Living Dead (1968)? I mean, other than the fact that Night drifted into public domain. Not a lot of other reasons.

All of this might have been forgiven if it weren’t for the fact that a movie that is at least tangentially about how great and terrible the movies can be, the filmmaking craft on display here is distractingly sub-par. It’s pretty telling when the other notable slasher movie of that year—Friday the 13th (1980)—reaches more effectively for the Hitchcock or Carpenter level of craft that can make a slasher at all re-watchable.

Repo Man (1984)

Director: Alex Cox

Cast: Harry Dean Stanton, Emilio Estevez, Tracey Walter, Olivia Barash

Have I Seen it Before: Never. It always existed just beyond my radar. Always felt just a little bit grungier than my tastes would normally drift toward. But, once again Circle Cinema could get me to show up for just about anything if it was being projected in 35mm.

Did I Like It: It was simultaneously a shame that I had missed it all this time, and more than a little great that I managed to first catch it in the best available format.

Rare that a movie made after the 1960s would actually serve to inspire John Carpenter and not the other way around, but They Live (1988) might have been a simple alien invasion story without this film’s influences.

And honestly? Do I really want to use this space for a confession? I think this film trucks in a lot of the same iconography and feelings, and does so far more effectively.

Estevez is a more able leading man of the movies than Roddy Piper*. The film views the world of the 80s with the same jaded eye, but manages to offer its both protagonist and the world at large something of a chance at a happy ending. In short, Carpenter’s pitch-black nihilism fills the later film, where whimsy of a sort wins the day here. Then again, there is a fundamental misanthropy here which makes it clear that the people of Earth are the real problems, whereas the aliens might not mean us any intentional harm.

*I wouldn’t take that terribly personally if I were Piper. No wrestler—for all of the skills it takes to engage in that kind of a performance—has ever offered a screen presence equal to even the most nominal of movie actors. Dwayne Johnson might want to take that assessment personally.

White Christmas (1954)

Director: Michael Curtiz

Cast: Bing Crosby, Danny Kaye, Rosemary Clooney, Vera-Ellen

Have I Seen it Before: Yes. I’m sure I have. It is one of my mother’s favorite movies, if not the absolute favorite. I have the strongest memory of a VHS copy sitting on a shelf as a kid, along with all of the other grown up movies. I’m sure I had to watch it at some point.

Did I Like It: As much as I love Singin’ in the Rain (1952), the “Broadway Melody” feels as awkwardly forced into the movie as it would have in The Dancing Cavalier.

It’s a reality of the genre, also on display here* that things eventually have to devolve into a musical number. Fortunately, here, as all concerned are also just putting on a show, the numbers feel less tacked on**.

But this should really be less about Singin’ in the Rain and more about the film in question.

I’ve often said that each year I have—at best—48 hours of Christmas cheer per year. Never mind that the larger world would be more than content to exhaust it sometime in early November. There’s a possibility I may have to strictly budget that cheer over the coming weeks, because this movie might be demanding just a bit more out of me before everything is said and done.

Or maybe I’ll have to find some deeper levels of cheer. The movies just might be worth it.

*That genre being the “1950s film where two rapscallion show folk fellas get into some shenanigans and at least the leading man (read: less funny of the two) meets and wins over the girl of his dreams.” See Singin’ and Some Like It Hot (1959) for examples.

**Maybe if we watched the sequence play out in the middle of an exhibition The Dancing Cavalier and not the pitching of those added scenes.

Killers of the Flower Moon (2023)

Director: Martin Scorsese

Cast: Leonardo DiCaprio, Robert De Niro, Lily Gladstone, Jesse Plemons

Have I Seen it Before: nope, and as I type this, neither have you. I managed to finagle my way into a press screening on Wednesday. I even had a notion to finish the review before the film was officially released on Friday, but…

Did I Like It: I honestly needed a bit of time to really come to a reasonable opinion about the film. The phrase “this is Scorsese’s best movie since Goodfellas (1990)” (including the obligatory citation of the year of the film) kept wandering through my head. One does not want to lean to closely on hyperbole, but:

This is Scorsese’s best movie since Goodfellas (1990). I’ve liked everything he’s done, as he is the only guardian angel left of the movies, it seems. People like to turn their nose up at The Departed (2006), but I loved the hell out of that movie. I’d even be willing to watch the first two-thirds of New York Stories (1989) if the opportunity presented itself, I even enjoyed The Irishman (2019), despite violating the rules of how we were all supposed to take in the film as I watched it in pieces on my phones when I had the time.

Here, too, we are asked for something of a time commitment, as the film clocks in at 3 hours 45 minutes, but there’s not a moment where this feels like it is asking too much from us. The performances are pitch-perfect throughout, with Gladstone and Plemons being revelations. It is unflinching. It is upsetting. There is a stretch (largely after Plemons character enters the film) that it becomes one of film’s greatest absurdist tragicomedies. It all ends in a sequence you will likely never see coming, but from which you will come away thinking it was the absolute perfect way to drive the themes home and to wrap up the storylines.

It’s everything you could want from a Scorsese movie, and it manages to surprise you throughout. Go see it as soon as possible, and do so on the big screen. If for no other reason than there is very little of the year left, I can’t possibly fathom a scenario in which this is not my favorite film of the year.

Friday the 13th - Part II (1981)

Director: Steve Miner

Cast: Adrienne King, Amy Steel, John Furey, Betsy Palmer

Have I Seen it Before: I dunno… Maybe?

Did I Like It: At the end of my review of Friday the 13th (1980) I lamented the prospect of watching the rest of the series. How much can they wring out of a willfully pale imitation of the Halloween series?

I’m sort of heartened as I finish the first sequel, if for no other reason than the adventures of Jason Voorhees are to the horror canon as Star Trek: Voyager is to the Star Trek canon.

Let me finish.

Voyager really isn’t all that bad, but it does have its challenges, but even during those long stretches where the show doesn’t seem the least bit interested in being an engaging series, it is wonderful white noise. I got an entire paper for grad school—with citations and the whole deal—while this movie was playing itself out.

That has to have some kind of value, right?

That certainly sounds like damning the thing with the faintest of all possible praise, and I’m even having a hard time arguing against that conclusion. There just isn’t a lot of “here”, here. Betsy Palmer returns for a spell to be be Jason’s (Steve Daskewisz) hallucinations of his mother, although it would have been even better if the best actor of the series (sorry, Kevin Bacon) had decided to play the severed head of her former character, but that probably would have been too much to ask from a franchise that doesn’t yet realize it is going to have to be far, far weirder than this to survive.

But, really? A burlap sack is the best they could do as they launch their marquee maniac into our cinematic hearts? Here’s hoping that they come up with something a little bit better for the next movie.

Friday the 13th (1980)

Director: Sean S. Cunningham

Cast: Betsy Palmer, Adrienne King, Harry Crosby, Kevin Bacon

Have I Seen it Before: Sure… Probably? iTunes had a sale on all 8 of the films in the series released by Paramount Pictures (before the property was sold to New Line, making Freddy vs. Jason (2003) sort of inevitable.

Did I Like It: No one alive and/or aware on any level over the last 45 years will try to tell you this is a good movie. Avowed fans of the series—an odd bunch, one can only imagine—would even view this one as something of an aberration, as everything they claim to like about the series doesn’t even start to enter into the mix until Part III (1982).

It is, fundamentally, an imitation of far better movies, imitating the sounds, but not the language in those better films. Almost nothing in this film isn’t trying to make the same kind of money that Halloween (1978) harnessed, without endeavoring to make an actual movie in the process.

And yet, of all the lame imitations of movies that exist, this one at least has the advantage of being a cut above those rest. The score is not bad (although it gets a lot more schmaltzy in the film’s final minutes; did we really need a love theme?), owing more to Bernard Hermann scores (Psycho) and less like the synth tracks of John Carpenter.

Betsy Palmer chews the scenery at just the right level, but her performance may only be that good when stacked up against the barely animate cardboard cutouts which surround her.

So, did I hate it? No. But I can’t say I’m all that thrilled with the prospect of being compelled to watch seven more of these? Not quite.

Also, why does she take that canoe out at the end of the film, other than to give us that final shot? Doesn’t make a damn bit of sense… Granted, it was all a dream, but that has its own problems.

Man on the Moon (1999)

Director: Miloš Morman

Cast: Jim Carrey, Danny DeVito, Courtney Love, Paul Giamatti

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, my. This, along with Three Kings (1999), My Dog Skip (1999) (my sister was and is crazy for anything with dogs in it), and, naturally, Batman (1989) were the first four DVDs I ever owned. It seems like a long time ago, but also at times feels like it was just yesterday.

Did I Like It: Those first few dozen times I watched the film, I couldn’t help but become a little obsessed with Kaufman (Carrey). Not quite to the degree that Carrey became obsessed. Who could? It is a fairly apt primer into the ethos Kaufman strove for in his all-too-brief career. If you are getting ready to watch the film for the first time, it will bother you, it will annoy you, and it will occasionally be very funny. At no time will there be a moment where any of this is done by accident. At it’s very best, and if you’re with Kaufman in what he was trying to do, you’ll start to re-think what entertainment can actually be.

And yet, a movie hits differently after you have not seen it in quite a while, but saw so many times at a particular time in your life. The flaws creep up. I now realize that there was no way Kaufman was playing Ms. Pac-Man when George Shapiro (DeVito) tells him that he closed the deal to get him to star in Taxi. That show premiered in 1978, and didn’t start popping up in arcades until 1982. That’s a nitpicky thing, and the kind of thing I only pick up on in movies after I went past the age of 16, but now that we’re on the topic of DeVito, Taxi, and George Shapiro: the movie does go to great lengths to re-create scenes of that show, but has to bend over backwards to be a world that includes George Shapiro, Andy Kaufman, and Taxi, but doesn’t also include Danny DeVito or Louie De Palma.

The Exorcist: Believer (2023)

Director: David Gordon Green

Cast: Leslie Odom Jr, Ann Dowd, Ellen Burstyn, Linda Blair*

Have I Seen it Before: Well…

Did I Like It: And that’s not even the real problem. Sure, this is—in the broadest possible strokes—a rehash of the superlative The Exorcist (1973)—but there’s so much more here to annoy me.

Let’s say first that I had more than a little bit of anticipation for this film. I am one of those few people that have genuinely really liked all of Green’s Halloween trilogy (although I loved the first, and like the third better than the second), so I was probably one of the few remaining audience members that Green has yet to alienate.

Well, we’re here now. Is it all as bad as the series can get? No, it doesn’t have the almost willfully silly newage qualities of Exorcist II: The Heretic (1977), but it does get real close. Your reviewer nearly once attended seminary to become a Unitarian Minister, and even I got to a point with this film’s groaning attempts at to make an ecumenical team of exorcists really doesn’t hold a lot of water. The Catholics in the film are rendered as either hapless, meddlesome, or both. I’m not sure why that bothers me—indeed, that depiction of the modern Catholic church seems pretty apt, if a little cliché. It ultimately leaves the film so willfully antithetical to the spirit of the original story and leaves it just like every other pale exorcism-themed immitator of the last fifty years..

It also doesn’t help that the film can’t quite decide whether or not it wants to embrace its legacy or not piss anybody off.

I can’t help but wonder if this is Green attempting what Sam Raimi did with Spider-Man 3 (2007). He can’t want to keep making the same horror legacy sequel over and over again until the end of time, but they keep being reasonably profitable. He’s going to have to work hard—and possibly continue to work even harder still—to eithe get fired or not asked back for the continuation of this process.

*Spoiler, as she apparently got the same deal Mark Hamill got in Star Wars - Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015).

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920)

Director: Robert Wiene

Cast: Werner Krauss, Conrad Veidt, Friedrich Fehér, Lil Dagover

Have I Seen it Before: Never. I know, I was a little surprised, too. I did see it in a supremely delightful manner, with a full musical accompaniment from the band Invincible Czars. With months behind me now of watching Silent films with very similar organ scores, this was a delightful and lively change of pace.

What’s more, they take a unique stance on audience participation, encouraging the crowd to scream, cackle, and mutter along with the quickly unraveling sanity of the characters. It certainly diminished the frequent possibility of someone saying something stupid, and it all but eliminated the risk of me hearing someone’s phone going off.

If you should get the opportunity to see a silent movie with them playing, I highly recommend it.

Did I Like It: It’s impossible to deny the degree to which the Germans were innovating the artistic design of film before it even occurred to an American filmmaker to try. Not just the makeup of characters, and not even the arch angles of every set, more theatrical design than cinematic set building, but Wiene and company even managed to make every single intertitle is worth of being featured in the Pergamonmuseum.

Story-wise, there’s a bit to be desired, although I admit I might be making that assertion from my myopic position well into the 21st century, but to spoil a bit: Caligari (Krauss) has a sleepwalker (Veidt) under his thrall. Murders ensue.

And then it wasn’t all a dream, but a psychotic delusion. And not one of either the Doctor or the sleepwalker, but yet another character altogether (Fehér). Honest to God, I can’t imagine an audience going along with all of that even back then, but then again, I’m the guy that’s been saying that the “It was all a dream” bit had already gone out of style by the time The Wizard of Oz (1939) came around, it had already run of steam. Maybe at the time it did work, but the problems of point of view persist. The story is only tangentially about the dreamer, but even more so, how does one account for sequences in which he doesn’t appear?

Nixon (1995)

Director: Oliver Stone

Cast: Anthony Hopkins, Joan Allen, Mary Steenburgen, James Woods*

Have I Seen It Before: Oh, sure.

Did I Like It: First of all, the fact that David Hyde Pierce and Madeline Khan were in the same film together means it should be one of the all-time greats. I mean, it’s not a comedy, but still… That’s just science. The rest of the cast is pretty stacked, too. It’s one of those movies where as the opening credits unfurl, I’m more and more excited for the three hours that are to follow.

And the movie is pretty good. Hopkins gives a solid performance throughout, especially as his Welsh access can never be completely supplanted by the Nixonian growl, and his eyes are always a bit too manic** to fully recreate the Yorba Lindan’s scowl. He gives Nixon all of the tragedy he needs to sell a biopic about him, without ever fully forgiving him for his more baffling flaws.

And on the topic of baffling flaws, there are a few things that nag at this viewer. I don’t think I have ever been more pulled out of a film than when—at the height of the famous first debate of the 1960 Presidential election, John Kennedy is clearly depicted via archival footage… until suddenly he isn’t. Turning on a dime, JFK is suddenly played by an actor who isn’t even remotely doing a reasonable impression to match with the previous archival stuff. Where’s Vaughn Meader when you need him?

One more thing from the baffling department, but I actually kind of like this one. I can’t quite fathom why the Watergate burglars were watching what was clearly a Jam Handy instructional film during the movie’s opening scenes. It does obliquely introduce some of the themes with which we are about to reckon, but for the life of me I don’t understand why Howard Hunt and the rest were spending their down time doing this, but I’m oddly charmed that both this movie and the MST3K episode of Manos: The Hands of Fate (1966).

*In a recent review of John Carpenter’s Vampires (1998), mainly because James Woods starred it. This film was much easier to swallow, given that he’s playing one of history’s greatest dickheads.

**One might be tempted to think too much of Lecter, but I also can’t not look at him and see Don Diego de la Vega.

All the President's Men (1976)

Director: Alan J. Pakula

Cast: Dustin Hoffman, Robert Redford, Jack Warden, Jason Robards

Have I Seen It Before: Oh, sure.

Did I Like It: There’s a genre of storytelling that is really starting to piss me off. Siskel often lamented that it was being depicted with less and less frequency in American cinema, as it was quickly—post Star Wars – Episode IV: A New Hope (1977)—committing all of its A-level resources to material which in the past would have been relegated to b-pictures*. Sorkin almost exclusively trucks in it. This movie is an absolute master’s survey of it (to the point where I’m thinking it almost has to be one of the pillars of influence for Mr. Sorkin) .

It is a type of story that involves very real heroism, but of a cerebral sort. Here, it’s framed as a detective story. Although we already know whodunit, and rather notably so, the tension is maintained. How? It lies almost exclusively in the fact that this is a story about people—adults, even when some of their flaws come into full bloom—who are passionate about their work, and their work is objectively important.

It makes one want to feel passionately about their own work. In truth, it makes one long for work that might actually matter. I’m so sick to death of it, and I can’t get enough of it.

*One can only wonder what—had he lived—the tall, skinny one might have thought about the current condition of the movies. You, dear reader, might be heartened by some recent failures in the superhero genre and think that things are going to go back to normal. I would imagine it won’t. The superhero is going nowhere, it’s just that studios will stop green-lighting movies which will balloon in costs to 300 million. Not every release can be The Avengers (2012).

The Fugitive (1993)

Director: Andrew Davis

Cast: Harrison Ford, Tommy Lee Jones, Sela Ward, Andreas Katsulas*

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, sure.

Did I Like It: What’s not to like? The plot is a tightly-wound tension deliver device that were a hallmark of Davis’ action films in the 90s. In an era where plenty of TV shows from the 60s were being re-created for the big screen, this could have been a real chore to sit through, but it isn’t. If you have a problem with some of the light implausibilities, then action thrillers might not be your thing. It’s also a weird twist of Hollywood fate that Davis hasn’t made a dozen more films in the last thirty years that were unassailably big hits. The film is really that good.

But ;et’s look at that cast again. Throw in Joe Pantoliano, and Julianne Moore, and this thing fills out way beyond its perfectly cast two leads. Never mind that I just happened to watch The Living Daylights (1987) early today, so I’ve accidentally done a “surprise, Jeroen Krabbé ism’t your friend, he’s the bad guy” double-feature.

But let’s look at the two leads. Jones brings his magnetic minimalism to full bore here, and the film would suffer greatly if there was any point in time when Gerard would be an antagonist and not an adversary for Ford’s Dr. Richard Kimble. Ford himself is at the height of his movie star powers, equal parts charming and disarming, and never not inspiring every inch of sympathy he can from the audience, and all by fully using the occasionally smirking, occasionally frowning countenance that made him a household name. But more importantly than that, this is a visceral performance from Ford. Forgoing just the chase amidst Chicago’s St. Patrick’s Day Parade (which makes the parade sequence in Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny (2023) look all the more like a typical latter-day Lucasfilm CGI-fest) but As Ford is tossed around, and forced through raging waters in his escape attempts, it’s hard to think that this will be the guy who will quickly spend about twenty years sleep-walking through every film to which he forgot to say no.

Turtle Power: The Definitive History of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2014)

Director: Randall Lobb

Cast: Peter Laird, Kevin Eastman

Have I Seen it Before: Never.

Did I Like It: There’s so many stylistic choices in this documentary that baffle me, it feels like I should give the film a thorough pan. The entire affair is padded out with a too-long sequence of people gushing about what the franchise has meant to them over the years. Touching on that is fine, but all of the testimonials seem similar to each other, and I didn’t need the film to tell me that people roughly my age (mostly boys, although they do manage to find one female-presenting fan) would have had a hard time getting out of the late 80s and early 90s without being required to pick their favorite turtle*.

The film spends a lot of time on the production of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (1990) (the topic is second only to the development of the cartoon, and rightly so) but next to no time on either of its sequels, and considering the varied qualities of those other films, I think I wouldn’t have minded a little more on how those two went as wrong as they did.

Making most of the film about the friendship and working relationship of Turtles creators Eastman and Laird proves to be one of the film’s strengths, at least in the early portions, as they were apparently a lot of home movies taken of Mirage Studios back in the days before the Turtles fulfilled their commercial potential as cartoon characters and action figures, so we feel like we are there during those heady days. But then, the film ends with some kind of… love theme, I guess you would call it. It’s a song not at all about the Turtles, or the making of the Turtles, but just a reminder of the vibes the filmmaker would want us to feel as the film ends.

*Mine was Michelangelo, although I probably spent some stretches over the course of my youth identifying with all four of the turtles, which probably owes to their enduring appeal.