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Exclusive Interview with “uncut” A NIGHT AT THE OPERA discoverer Thomas Racz

August 10th, 2008 by Scott Marks

I was in seventh grade when I first met the Marx Brothers proper. There were You Bet Your Life reruns and fuzzy memories of The Incredible Jewel Robbery, but it wasn’t until that fateful gathering of the Boone Booster Club that I first witnessed my first Marx Bros. feature.

The Booster Club was a perk for students attending Daniel Boone elementary school in Chicago’s West Rogers Park neighborhood. One Tuesday morning a month we were allowed to dispense with our studies and watch a real movie, not one of those crappy science documentaries, on school time.

The person responsible for curating the series should have been taken out and shot at sunrise. Instead of screening The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T or the original Babes in Toyland, they exposed impressionable minds to the insipid remake of the latter in addition to Blackbeard’s Ghost (another live-action Disney hellhole), the feature length version of Journey to the Beginning of Time (which worked better in 5 minute installments on Garfield Goose and Friends) and two episodes of The Man From U.N.C.L.E. spliced together to form a feature. There was a Martin and Lewis film, but the clueless booker chose Taurog over Tashlin.

Classrooms full of kids congregated in the school’s assembly hall where uniform focus was unheard of, the sound system was just slightly better than a subway train and the tattered window shades allowed more light to come in than the Sistine Chapel. In spite of all of the hardships cast upon this budding young cinephile, the 107 minutes spent watching A Day at the Races was the single greatest learning experience in eight years of public school education.

As if preordained, WBKB-TV scheduled a 1 am screening of Races later that weekend and I pleaded with my parents that since it wasn’t a “school night” to let me stay up way past my bedtime. My mother, generally the softer touch of the pair, wanted nothing to do with the idea. My father actually stepped up to the plate and, after hearing my appeal, uncharacteristically ruled in my favor. He assured my mother that “the kid will be asleep ten minutes after it starts and we’ll never hear about it again.”

Continue reading Exclusive Interview with “uncut” A NIGHT AT THE OPERA discoverer Thomas Racz

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Quentin Tarantino casts Britney Spears in remake of Russ Meyer classic

August 7th, 2008 by Scott Marks

Separated at birth?

The only thing more disturbing than floozy Britney Spears appearing in another theatrical film is the fact that Quentin Tarantino has the nerve to remake Russ Meyer’s Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!

QT has cast the white trash paparazzi whore in the same role Tura Satana played in the 1965 soft-core masterwork. Tura is a tough, empowered, kick ass vixen while Spears is a dependent, out of shape nutjob that spends what little time she does with her children blowing cigarette smoke in their faces.

According to The Telegraph, a source said: “Quentin is convinced Britney will be brilliant. She’s delighted. She thinks it could turn her career around. It is perfect Tarantino material. He wanted to get Britney first. She’s playing the most important character.”

Ms. Spears is no stranger to performing before a camera and she’s been in a few movies, too. Those fortunate enough to witness Britney’s breakthrough picture Crossroads will never forget her somewhat believable performance as a high school graduate.

Continue reading Quentin Tarantino casts Britney Spears in remake of Russ Meyer classic

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Review: TELL NO ONE / Guillaume Canet (2006)

July 23rd, 2008 by Scott Marks

Tell No One (2006)
Directed by: Guillaume Canet
Written by: Guillaume Canet & Philippe Lefebvre from a novel by Harlan Coben
Starring: François Cluzet, Marie-Josée Croze, Kristin Scott Thomas, André Dussollier, François Berléand, Nathalie Baye, Marina Hands, Gilles Lellouche & Jean Rochefort
Running Time: 125 min.
Aspect Ratio:

Rating: ★★★★☆

WARNING: This is not a review that you want to read in you ever have any intention of seeing this movie.

With The Dark Knight selling out round the clock screenings, it’s a shame that all of the spillover went to Mama Mia! and not Tell No One, but what are the chances a smart French thriller would be playing the same shopping malls as Batman and flat-Pierce?

The lovely opening, open air dinner scene sets up its audience for a light romantic comedy. Friends and family gather around the table celebrating Alexandre’s (François Cluzet) graduation from med school while the camera pays close attention to two of the revelers. Long before a flashback to a pair young lovers carving their initials in a tree, the slow camera moves and succinct cuts establish the long-standing love affair between Alexandre (François Cluzet) and his wife Margot (Marie-Josée Croze).

The following day opens with a sunny drive to an afternoon round of skinny dipping, but the plot doesn’t kick into gear until later that dark night when the naked couple quarrel on a barge in the middle of the lake. Alex is angry because his sister Anne (Marina Hands) refuses to either take care of the family stable or sell it. No sooner does Margot swim back to shore, she vanishes into the blackness. Before Alex can answer her single scream for help, an unseen assailant clubs the man leaving him to drown.

Eight years pass to find Alex a successful pediatrician and Margot’s death credited to a notorious serial killer. Certain sectors inside the police force still believe Alex to be the murderer. After all, how did his unconscious body manage to swim back to shore?

Continue reading Review: TELL NO ONE / Guillaume Canet (2006)

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Review: WANTED / Timur Bekmambetov (2008)

June 29th, 2008 by Scott Marks

Wanted (2008)
Directed by Timur Bekmambetov
Adapted from a comic book by: Michael Brandt, Derek Haas and Chris Morgan
Starring: James McAvoy, Angelina Jolie, Morgan Freeman and Terence Stamp
Running Time: 110 min.
Aspect Ratio:

Rating: ☆☆☆☆☆

Remind me never to post images to the Image Vault before seeing a movie. My show of good faith invariably results in a bupke. (Check out this inexcusable inclusion! WTF was I thinking?)

Wanted is hardly required viewing.

Once again, Angelina Jolie takes time away from her busy schedule of saving the world to make movie theaters a worse place to live in. Her overexaggerated features make her a logical choice to play comic book heroines, but any similarity between her choice of action/fantasy/adventure scripts and quality entertainment is highly unlikely. Only sludge like Wanted, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow and Tomb Raider(s) can possibly make one wistful for the glory days of Hackers.

It’s not that she is incapable of handing in good performances in worthy projects. Playing by Heart is a terrific ensemble film and the much maligned Original Sin is actually a very enjoyable Gothic noir. Girl, Interrupted is not much of a movie, but her performance is electrifying and at least she’s naked a lot in Gia and Foxfire.

With the exception of one bare-back shot, Ms. Jolie remains clothed throughout Wanted. It’s a good thing. The once voluptuous starlet is now thinner than one of the undernourished third-world toddlers she carts around at photo ops. I swear that I could fit my thumb and index finger around her upper arm.

Pounds aren’t the only thing to be pruned from Ms. Jolie’s mien. What happened to her feminist conscience? The women in Wanted exist only as grotesques, bait, killing machines and pussy. Aside from a big payday, what possible allure did this trash hold?

James McAvoy apes the Edward Norton role in Fight Club, a nebbishy clock-puncher transformed into an urban warrior. His father, a closeted world class assassin, is murdered and a secret organization recruits McAvoy with the promise of avenging dad’s death. Run by Morgan Freeman (who also should have known better), The Fraternity receives it’s assignments to kill from a giant weaving loom. I kid you not.

With The Wackness and Wall-E currently gracing multiplexes, Wanted is not the ‘W’ film of the week.

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Movie dads that won’t make father’s day

June 15th, 2008 by Scott Marks

1. The Butcher in Gaspar Noé’s I Stand Alone (1998)

Part of the reason I adore this movie is because I have always believed it to be a revisionist version of Taxi Driver only darker. This baby takes everything Travis has to give, pumps up realism — when The Butcher (Philippe Nahon) goes to a porn theater, you’ll witness more than some R-rating-friendly shadows dancing on the screen — and never stops moving towards its ghastly conclusion(s). Everybody steals from Scorsese, but few are capable of making it their own, thereby demonstrating an advanced state of cinematic enlightenment. Transplant Travis to Paris, have him hack meat instead of fares, give him a retarded daughter and ouila - out pops one of the vilest, most repugnant movies ever made (and my vote for feel-good picture of eternity!). After pulling a Joe Kennedy and throwing his daughter in a mental institution, The Butcher returns to Paris to find her. Alone in a hotel room with his daughter, the director provides his audience with two alternate conclusions: rape or murder. Rent the DVD and play along at home.

2. “The Lieutenant” in Abel Ferrara’s The Bad Lieutenant (1992)

If you haven’t already, go back and study the dialog during the opening car ride. We know nothing about “The Lieutenant” (Harvey Keitel) and Ferrara and screenwriter Nick St. John want to make a solid first impression. “The Lieutenant” and his two young sons (both sporting blazers that scream parochial school) make a hurried dash for the car. The boys whine that they were late because Aunt Wendy keeps hogging the bathroom. Turning on them as though they were refugees from Police Academy 5, Harvey barks,

“Hey — Listen to me. I’m the boss, not Aunt Wendy. When it’s your turn to use the bathroom, you tell Aunt Wendy to get the f–k out of the bathroom! What are you, men or mice?…Call me. I’ll throw her the f–l out!”

A few reels later he’s buck naked, smoking crack and crying like a baby. When was the last time you really saw your father?

3. Joey LaMotta in Martin Scorsese’s Raging Bull (1980)

Jake (Robert DeNiro) is by no means Judge Hardy, but the father of the year award goes to the younger LaMotta brother. Unfortunately there isn’t enough quality screen time devoted to Joey (Joe Pesci) and his kids, but the thirty seconds we do get to spend around the family dinner table is magic. Joey points a knife at his young son and threatens, “If I see you put your hand in the plate one more time I’m gonna’ stab you with this knife. You hear me?” We never learn if Joey, Jr. got the message for no sooner is his dad about to bludgeon the tot with a butter knife, Uncle Jake saves the day by bursting into the house and putting his brother’s head through a glass door. Every day is Father’s Day in the LaMotta household, ya’ son of a bitch!

4. Wade Hunnicutt in Vincente Minnelli’s Home From the Hill (1960)

There were two venal Minnelli patriarchs to choose from, neither of whom had Liz Taylor as their on-screen daughter. Arthur Kennedy is pure scum in Some Came Running. On the surface he’s Parkman, Indiana’s #1 son, but his heart pumps silt. As much as he sickens me (in a good way), he is no match for Mitchum in Home From the Hill. Minnelli asks us to accept George Hamilton in the role of Robert Mitchum’s son. (And I goof on spielberg’s inability to suspend disbelief!) It’s great to watch Mitchum belittle the ever-fledgling actor, but all roads lead to Bob’s heated moment of comeuppance. Eighty-seven minutes in, Hamilton enters dad’s study/arsenal to make it known that he’s hip to the fact that one of the ranch hands is his half brother. Cool Bob easily deflects the news. After all, he sewed some oats with a tramp that gave birth by the side of a ditch. Hamilton follows with the line of his career: “She must have been some pig to crawl into bed with you.” Thawing momentarily, Bob stammers, “We’ll just let that…We’ll just let that pass in the heat of the moment.” Flustered Mitchum seldom appears on the menu. When it does savor it!

5. Jasper Hadley in Douglas Sirk’s Written on the Wind (1956)

“A great man! A giant of a man!” To hear his family speak you’d half expect Glenn Langan to walk in the room with Jonas Salk in hand. (Which reminds me, look at the size of the gusher on that guy! Talk about being oil-well hung!) Instead of a titan, Douglas Sirk portrays Jasper Hadley (Robert Keith) as an emaciated mouse. The inheritors to his throne are an impotent lush (Robert Stack) and a slutty daughter (Dorothy Malone) that makes Mitchum’s “sand hill tacky” look like Amanda Bynes. Halfway through the picture Old Man Hadley’s ticker gives out forcing him to take a fatal plunge down the family’s grand staircase. If a puny man falls in the middle of a mansion, does anybody hear? Are the chances worsened if his harlot daughter is blasting a molten version of Temptation on her Victrola? In honor of the day, let us end with a bit of patroclinous trivia: Milquetoast Robert Keith is the real life sire of strapping TV father (and dad to both Hayley Mills), Brian “Uncle Bill” Keith. Hmmm…Does that mean a Hamilton can father a Mitchum?

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A Memorial Day Movie: Otto Preminger’s IN HARM’S WAY (1965)

May 26th, 2008 by Scott Marks

In honor of Memorial Day I spent the morning scanning my vast collection of stills from Otto Preminger’s austere war epic In Harm’s Way (1965).

Not only is it Otto’s personal best, it ranks in my top twenty all-time favorites. The fluid shot of a bruised and demoralized Rockwell P. Torry descending the gangplank while behind him sparks fly as seamen repair his equally battle-worn cruiser was burned is a perfect marriage of meaning and movement. As if Loyal Griggs’ stunning camera work isn’t enough there’s the added thrill when screenwriter Wendell Mayes smuggles the film’s title into a line of dialog. Rock turns to Paul and with a voice burdened by despair says, “A fast ship moving in harm’s way. A lousy situation, Commander Eddington.” I live for moments like this.

You also get to enjoy a Dana Andrews cameo (Otto took pity on Laura’s fallen star) and Kirk Douglas’ sublime slapdown of Patrick O’Neal in the latrine.

And don’t forget to stick around for Saul Bass’ astounding closing credit sequence. Though set on Pearl Harbor day, Bass consciously plays upon 1965 America’s fear of nuclear annihilation by adding a mushroom cloud to his punctuational epilogue.

One day I’ll pull out my copy and write at length about the film and all it’s cinematic glory. Until then, enjoy the pictures and the trailer.

Photos here.

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