Movies

From the week of March 7th, 2010

Night of the Creeps

directed by Fred Dekker (1986)

A bevy of unflattering taffeta and lace prom dresses, sculpted teenage boy hair, exploding heads, an axe murderer, aliens from outer space, a vengeful tough guy cop, frat pranks, cryogenics, flame throwers, grotesque slugs, zombie cats and dogs and even some brief nudity and a touching youngman friendship… yep there’s a lot to love about The Night of the Creeps.

I put the movie at the top of my queue due to it’s comparisons to The Night of the Comet, my personal favorite movie of the genre. That genre being tongue in cheek horror comedy that’s not afraid to offer genuine scares as well as laughs. The Stuff and Scream could also be applied.

The others I mentioned you may have heard of but even a movie nerd like myself was less aware of this little, funky 80’s gem. Part of the reason is that it wasn’t released on DVD until October of last year (which was also the reason why it’s been on my queue with a very long wait for months). Truly until it’s release an underground cult classic, bootleg VHS’s of the movie were passed among fans and sold on ebay.

Of course, it is what it is and I don’t want to over hype it. It’s fun, it’s a great way to take your mind of anything for a couple hours and it’s the best work of Fred Dekker who also helmed House, Robocop 3, and The Monster Squad (which didn’t hold up quite as well as I had hoped).

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From the week of February 21st, 2010

The September Issue

directed by R.J. Cutler (2009)

The September Issue is a fairly straight-forward documentary that offers an exclusive peek into the creation of Vogue’s biggest, most important and most popular issue, yet still manages to feel a bit remote and arm’s length. The film focuses primarily on the tight-mouthed and crossed-hand critiques (which I seldom agreed with) of Editor-in-Chief Anna Wintour and, at the other end of the spectrum, the spirited work and luminous presence of Creative Director Grace Coddington. And while you can almost glimpse the actual woman behind the severe haircut when she reveals that she’s pretty much the family’s frivolous black sheep and hangs out with her daughter (who has no apparent interest in following on her mother’s footsteps), Wintour remains as aloof as you’d expect – though not quite the industry monster Meryl Streep portrayed he as (but not quite as redeemable, either).

Aside from coming off dismissive and ice cold, her most monstrous deeds are, in my opinion, touted throughout the film as her greatest achievements: bringing back fur and putting celebrities on the covers of fashion magazines. Quite frankly, I am not impressed – particularly with the latter. It was tough to watch this epic fashion tome built around the mediocre starlet that is Sienna Miller, especially when the more adventurous Italian Vogue broke ground with their all Black issue the same year and pictured Agyness Deyn with soldiers on their September issue… but I’m digressing into my own qualms with the publication (which I stopped subscribing to years ago in protest of Jennifer Aniston’s 14th cover story).

While the September Issue is an obvious must-see for fashion fans, those of you who have never been inclined to pick up an issue of Vogue will still find it rather amusing (to borrow from Wintour’s lexicon). It’s at its best when Coddington, who is this week’s style icon as well as the author of this week’s book, is on-screen.

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From the week of February 7th, 2010

Bright Star

directed by Jane Campion (2009)

There’s a reason some people find the state of contemporary romance films dull, trite, and unwatchable, and for the most part, I’m one of those people. But in the hands of master filmmaker Jane Campion (whose best work is still the bloody skinemax-tastic In the Cut), the tired and staid genre is given fresh life with Bright Star.

Quiet energy radiates from the impressive cast: the beautifully fey and almost disturbingly rail thin Ben Whishaw as poet John Keats and the refreshingly non rail thin, spirited and (please forgive me Reese) quite pretty Abbie Cornish as the love of his life, Fanny Brawne. Filling out the cast – to my complete surprise – was Paul Schneider as fellow poet Charles Armitage Brown, whom you might recognize as Mark Brendanawicz from Parks and Recreation.

So many historical films feel like little more than tight-lipped actors in big costumes pontificating in period accents on museum sets, but there’s a lived-in, natural feel to the settings and the incredible clothing (multi buckle flats and three tiered ruffle collars, please make a come back!) of Bright Star. But don’t get me wrong, Campion’s vision of the period is characteristically stylized and visually romanticized. Crisp white curtains billow with spring breezes from every window, exquisitely serene and simple bedrooms look like paintings of dignified restraint, every garden is overgrown with the most sumptuous wildflowers.

Her signature touch elevates the sometimes slow (it’s just way too long) but sometimes heart-twitteringly romantic (couldn’t help but get flushed watching the first kiss) tale of love and heartbreak that’s been told in some way or another a million times (guess who’s going to die? The one that went out in the cold and came back with a cough!).

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From the week of January 24th, 2010

Blue Velvet

directed by David Lynch (1986)

Blue Velvet is an example of the work of an artist with a singular vision at its best. Next only to the first season of Twin Peaks, Blue Velvet is David Lynch’s tightest, most dynamic, haunting and effective work. Still, it manages to be surprisingly unseen even by people who claim to be fans of Lynch’s work. As a girl I was obsessed with the movie long before I even saw it, I’d speculate about the plot based on the poster until my parents relented and let me watch it years later in my early teens.

In this highly symbolic tale of the dark side of small town America, a remarkable cast (Isabella Rossellini, Dennis Hopper, Laura Dern, Dean Stockwell, Brad Dourif, and Jack Nance) acts out a disturbing melodrama turned on its ear (both figuratively and literally). Even with the deliberate pacing – and as those of you who have seen it can attest, everything about this film is deliberate: from the color of the hallways, the angle on the stairwells (only Lynch can create scary stairwells, see Laura Palmer’s house) to the hum and tone of the rooms – the action moves rapidly. It’s a wild ride, not unlike the joy ride a certain insane character demands.

It’s a Lynchian film through and through and unlike anything else you’ve seen, though it’s not for everyone. I can’t quite believe I’ve failed to recommend it before now, but better late than never. And if you’ve seen it before, it only gets better with each subsequent viewing.

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From the week of January 10th, 2010

Pumping Iron

pumping_irondirected by George Butler and Robert Fiore (1976)

It’s always been hard for me to believe that Pumping Iron is a great movie, not just as a piece of bizarro kitsch, but a respected documentary that  frequently tops reasonable peoples’ lists of their favorite films… until I watched it, of course. The film, set during and before the 1975 Mr. Olympia competition in South Africa, follows the king of the sport, Aaanold as well as his upstart competition, a then sweet and dopey kid named Lou Ferrigno, his friend and fellow champion, Franco Columbo and other lesser known men striving to achieve success in the unique world of body building.

The movie shares much with some of my favorite documentaries: the well renowned The King of Kong and the criminally forgotten Derby in that it’s an intimate portrait of a small subculture that is strange to most of us; it’s always fascinating to get into the minds of people obsessed with what they love.

It’s a well made piece of vérité that’s infinitely quotable:

“It’s like I’m cumming all the time” – Arnold

“I’m the kind of person that’s like the kind of dog that’s going to bite back” – Mike Katz

“I was always dreaming about powerful people – dictators and things like that” – Arnold

“Milk is for babies. When you grow up you drink beer” – Arnold

After years of being unavailable, the DVD can now be widely purchased, so do enjoy!

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From the week of December 20th, 2009

Fantastic Mr. Fox

fantastic_foxdirected by Wes Anderson (2009)

Wes Anderson’s movies have a particular hipster artistry that sometimes yields poignant and aesthetically pleasing magic (Royal Tenenbaums, Rushmore), other times it results in slightly annoying, self satisfied quirkiness (Steve Zissou, and, so I’ve heard, Darjeeling Limited). Fantastic Mr. Fox falls squarely on the magical side, not only in terms of the plot and the story (by Roald Dahl, which Anderson and screenwriter Noah Baumbach greatly expanded on for the film), but the stop motion animation is simply amazing.

The set, character, and costume design (I love Mr Fox’s cord suit and his son’s home made super hero get ups) is unerringly charming and whimsical and I hope it inspires more delicately thoughtful stop motion features in this era of crass computer animation (Pixar excluded, of course). Drastically unlike those churned out kid’s flicks, Fantastic Mr. Fox is far more stylized and perhaps  even more delightful for stylish parents than their children (wacky sing-a-longs with Jarvis Cocker, anyone?), and the tone is decidedly more subtle, sophisticated, and bittersweet than usual talking animal fare. I went with my office after an exhausting season of late nights and we all walked out like a bunch of kids with big smiles on our faces.

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From the week of December 6th, 2009

The Lord of the Rings

Ralph Bakshi's Lord of the RingsDirected by Ralph Bakshi (1978)

Believe it or not (I’m hoping my facetiousness is apparent), I was a huge Tolkien fan when I was a kid. I’m sure I can’t remember what year it was, but the night my dad brought home our first family VCR we rushed out to the (sadly now defunct) Video World and grabbed the two tapes my brother and I would watch again and again over the next several years: the Rankin/Bass Hobbit and John Boorman’s the Emerald Forest (for years that was his favorite movie, go figure… BTW: Boorman nearly adapted LotR himself, he reused the sets he built for Excalibur).

I actually had two maps of Middle Earth hung on my bedroom wall (one was next to an image of the members of Public Enemy hanging out in a maximum security prison; pretty sophisticated juxtaposition of the kind of things boys in their pre-teens are drawn too – thanks for offering the tools needed to create such a dynamic collage, Prints Plus!).

I hoarded copies of the author’s books, which wasn’t all that easy considering that until the advent of the Book Barn years later, there really was no local spot that dealt in used books, though occasionally the Booksmith in New London would have an unusual looking pressing of Smith of Wootton Major and Farmer Giles of Ham.

And in an gesture I’m still in awe of, the first time I met my father-in-law he presented me with a hardcover copy of the edition of the Hobbit he himself illustrated (awesomely).

But of all things Tolkienian, the Bakshi movie has made the deepest impact.

I’m not going to list to list its many inaccuracies (Tolkien enthusiasts have already complied lists taking care of that), and I’m not going to compare it to Peter Jackson’s films (plenty of articles are out there for the reading); while there’s no way to deny that this movie has its flaws, it’s an amazing work of art and it’s the imagery I’m really, really into.

I’ve collected a number of stills below/after the jump giving special attention to what I think is the film’s finest sequence: Frodo’s encounter with the Black Riders just outside Rivendell; it’s here that Bakshi’s impressionistic vision is most successful. As the wounded Hobbit breaks away from his party, the background dramatically fades to an expressionistic, nightmarish landscape, partly rendered in slow motion. It’s an absolutely amazing series of shots that truly captures the terror of the Ring Wraiths and Frodo’s almost submarine decent into their world of shadow.

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From the week of November 22nd, 2009

Valentino: The Last Emperor

valentino-the-last-emperordirected by Matt Tyrnauer (2009)

Valentino: The Last Emperor is beautiful, inspiring, and as touching as it is uplifting. The film captures the process and excitement behind the couturier business as well as the glamour of the lives of those involved. The emotion comes not only from impeccable hand made gowns, but particularly from the enviable love and business partnership between Valentino and Giancarlo Giammetti who have been weathering the changes in trends and making women look beautiful together for 45 years.

Captured among these often exhilarating images, appropriately set to the score of Fellini’s La Dolce Vita, is the designer’s swan song – and an elaborate, over the top decadent one at that. For his 45th anniversary there are parties on top of parties, gallery shows, and runway presentations fit for a king… or an emperor.

One is left in awe of his accomplishments and saddened by the end of an art form. His is truly an extraordinary life, the kind of magical and seemingly fictional life of a modern aristocrat, and being permitted a peek inside it is amazing.; and it may just bring you to tears.

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From the week of November 9th, 2009

The Doom Generation (Worst Movie)

It's a painful thing to have gone through, watching The Doom Generation, and every time I'm reminded of it, whether by seeing that dumb looking kid's face or hearing the words Gregg Araki, it's like a flair up of agony. Come to think of it, not unlike the sensation one might experience living with a chronic STD.

This indie road trip to hell sits comfortably atop my mental list of the worst movies I have ever seen; even watching seconds-long clips on You Tube is supremely irritating and infuriating.

While I don't assume too many people are in queue to re-watch this piece of trash from a decade that brought us so many fulfilling edgy indies, I still feel obligated to warn you dear readers about its evil ways.

I'm reaching deep into the archives of terrible films because I was really good to myself this year and saw none of the movies topping early worst-of-2009 lists (no Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen for me) but I would like to bring up a few dishonorable mentions: like the fact that Jason Segel really creeped me out in bad ways in I Love You, Man and my friend Mike's prediction of what might truly be the worst film of 2009. It stars something called Travolta Williams.

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From the week of February 28th, 2010

Whip It

directed by Drew Barrymore (2009)

Look, there’s nothing extraordinary about the roller derby fluff that is Whip It, but it’s so endearing and uses the many sports movie cliches to its advantage that I found myself (surprisingly) completely enjoying it. After all, sometimes you just want a cliched feel-good movie that delivers exactly you what you expect. Unfortunately, most movies of this nature (think The Blind Side) are terrible and unwatchable – so I guess the fact that Whip It manages to be such a pleasant, easy movie is, in its own way, quite extraordinary.

The cast is good: you can’t go wrong with a bitchy Juliette Lewis nor a handsome Andrew Wilson, and Kristen Wiig is charming as usual. Strangely, as with any movie she’s behind, Drew Barrymore’s performance is off (though not as bad as the cellar door scene in Donnie Darko) – but she deserves credit for her easy-going direction; Marcia Gay Harden, in a role that could have been shrewish and dis-likable, is as complex as the movie can handle as a beauty-contest-loving mother.

Definitely worth a rent for those of us that enjoy a girly teen romp where the teenage girls are neither movie style skanks nor bumbling, giggly idiots; I’m bummed so few teenage girls went to the theaters to to catch this one.

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From the week of February 14th, 2010

Red Riding Trilogy

directed by Julian Jarrold, James Marsh, Anand Tucker

Film critic David Thomson brazenly proclaimed The Red Riding Trilogy (three films directed by three different filmmakers) to be “a tragic achievement that surpasses that of ‘The Godfather’”. While I can’t quite agree with Thomson’s assertion, I’m thrilled his hyperbole has sparked so much international interest in the three films (now playing at IFC theater on 6th Avenue and On Demand) and the four David Peace novels on which they are based (the first of which I recommended a few weeks back), no matter how flawed the films themselves are.

The trilogy, which chronicles a decade of brutality (though the screen adaptation is not nearly as brutal as the book), anti-hero protagonists, sickening police corruption, torture, murder, and – not one but two – serial killers stalking the north of England, is a grim one. It’s rife with cliches while strangely remaining almost surreally confounding… After watching all three films (and I strongly believe you have to watch all three to absorb the complete feel of the work), I was both intrigued – though always kept at an arm’s length – and somewhat unsatisfied.

I’m still not entirely sure how I feel about the experience which was at times rather demanding (in no small part due to to its splintered narrative, thick northern accents and relentless violence) while at the same time almost laughably trite in its chronic overuse of rote serial-killer-drama conventions. I say ‘almost’ because in the piss soaked, knuckle-beaten, nuclear power plant dotted landscape of the films, there is no room for laughter, or even a smile. The “heroes” are almost as corrupted as the villains and the only ray of decency shines from the films’ pathetic victims and few female characters played with heartbreaking humanity by the lovely Rebecca Hall (as a grief stricken mother) and Maxine Peak (as a decent detective amongst wolves).

It’s certainly not perfect and it’s anything but pretty (although there is some lyricism to the cinematography, particularly the first installment shot on 16mm) but it’s definitely worth a look. By the way, reading the books won’t entirely spoil anything – the film adaptations vary drastically at times and even omit the second book (1978) of Peace’s tetralogy completely.

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From the week of January 31st, 2010

Hausu

directed by Noribuki Obayashi (1977)

You might recognize Hausu from a viral video I blogged about months back. Surely, you might assume, the entire movie can’t be as insane as that clip of the killer lampshade and those images of severed limbs and demonic cats… but if that’s what you assumed, I’m happy to report that you are so, so wrong.

To describe this film as crazy, schizophrenic, bonkers, and wild is a gross understatement; it’s an excess of experiments that will blow the mind of the viewer and open the doors of perception to any artist (especially those working in film and video) to just how far the boundaries and tropes of the medium can be pushed… It’s basically the craziest thing I’ll probably ever see and my grand kids will probably hear tell of its cinematic insanity.

What happens is this: a group of school girls go to visit one of their auntie’s for vacation. Before you know it, a decapitated head jumps around and bites a girl’s butt, an old lady has an eyeball in her mouth and dances with a skeleton, another girl is eaten and dismembered by a piano, and a man turns into a pile of bananas after enjoying some ramen with a bear. What, really, can you expect from a film that lives by the logic “Old cats can open doors, but only ghost cats can close them again.” The ghost cat in this case is Snowflake, the coolest Persian ever put on screen, who is frequently flung into the arms of actors by off-screen feline throwers. The movie certainly has a sense of humor.

Director Nobuhiko Obayashi is an experimental icon whose career only just began with this masterpiece of mayhem. His other titles include If She Looks Back, It’s Love, The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, Beijing Watermelon, I Want to Hear the Wind’s Song, and only just a few years back, Before That Day. While much of his work is even harder to come by than Hausu, here is a site that features some of his early experimental work. And despite what you or anyone might think based on the description, Hausu does not quite qualify as purely experimental. It was, in fact, a huge hit in Japan upon its release.

If you’re ever able to access a copy of this movie and you want to know what it might be like to be an insane person, do not let the opportunity pass you by; we have our good friends Matthew and Nora to thank so very much for the DVD-R we now proudly own. The IFC theater on 6th Avenue played it just the other night (sorry for not giving enough warning), in the meantime, gaze upon the stills I’ve gathered below/after the jump.


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From the week of January 17th, 2010

The Conformist

conformistdirected by Bernardo Bertolucci (1970)

Fans of exquisite cinematography might be familiar with Bernardo Bertolucci’s classic The Conformist, scenes of which are frequently cited in serious discussions of the craft. It truly is a gorgeous movie and every single shot is an aesthetically pleasing piece of art. Photographer Vittorio Storaro’s work here inspired Francis Ford Coppola’s Godfather films.

The art direction and costumes, as well as the acting is all phenomenal. You might recognize Jean Louis Trintignant from the bizarre gialli, Death Laid an Egg, his love interests (Dominique Sanda and Stefania Sandrelli) are as lovely as the photography.

Of course, a movie is more than just the sum of its cinematography and leading ladies and this is one quite odd and coldly effective. I’ve never read the book by Alberto Moravia, but if it matches the tone and mood of Bertolucci’s adaptation, I’d assume it shares much with the work of Kafka and Sartre, although the specific horrors depicted here (giving up one’s identity and soul to a Fascist regime in order to fit in) are far from metaphoric; this story comes out of a very real and very recent chapter in Italian history.

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From the week of December 26th, 2009

The Red Balloon

the red balloondirected by Albert Lamorisse (1956)

The Red Balloon is a beloved daydream-like classic. It plays daily at the Museum of Moving Image and was perfect Christmas weekend viewing on my laptop. The simple yet stunning little movie celebrates imagination, childhood and France and makes you joyful to have memories of any of those things. With its wordless story of a boy’s friendship with a big red balloon, a delightful score by Maurice Leroux, and beautiful images by Edmond Séchan, The Red Balloon has been charming audiences of all ages for decades.
Producer, writer director Albert Lamorisse cast his own son as the little boy who, along with the neighborhood kids (bullies included) is dressed impeccably stylishly French (rollneck grey sweaters and small school boy briefcases).

If you’ve missed this tiny masterpiece, watch it now on Netflix instant.

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From the week of December 13th, 2009

Red Road

red roaddirected by Andrea Arnold (2006)

Few films manage to sustain tension and suspense as well as Red Road, a thriller that causes the viewer to continually wonder what’s exactly is going on, manages to. Jackie is a security camera operator in a very, very bleak housing estate of Glasgow (can’t imagine the Scotland tourism board endorsing this one) who observes the people around her at a distance without their knowledge. One night, she is shaken by a face she recognizes on her screen.

Most of the film is fueled by the constant surprises. Who is this man, and what is his relationship to Jackie? Why was she so upset at the sight of him, yet he doesn’t know her face? As in any thriller built around a tower of questions, the answers are not always as fulfilling as the asking, but in this case, the reveal changes the entire tone and message of the movie. Thought you were simply going to get scared and see some vengeance? Try a totally raw sex scene (the closest I’ve seen to realistic doing it on film in some time) and redemption. I have to admit, it initially turned me a bit off until I accepted that it was a different film than I expected.

But to say Red Road is merely a sum of its plot elements is unfair. Through the dogme techniques, director Andrea Arnold paints a very tactile and realistic world. She manages to make not only sex, but parties, breakdowns, bars, and fights feel like you’ve just stumbled into them. Quite a feat for a directorial debut.

The movie is available on netflix instant, a great way to discover films you might otherwise never hear about.

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From the week of November 29th, 2009

Up

up-posterdirected by Pete Docter and Bob Peterson (2009)

I completely expected to love Up, and I did – but I was not quite as prepared to shed buckets of tears for the entire first and last half hour. It’s a doozy for the emotional, a truly touching film that, don’t get me wrong, is also enchanting, charming and hilarious. The small touches, as well as the big picture inventive story line, are what makes every Pixar film so exceptional. And this may just be their best.

I really don’t want to give too much of the plot away, as it was refreshing for it to unfold as a surprise to me. But I will say that the cast of characters includes a “small mailman” (chubby kid Russell), his bird friend Kevin and a team of talking dogs that could not be more endearing. Visually, as well (especially on Blu Ray), Up is amazing. It makes all the imitation (non Pixar) 3D kids movies look like lazy muck.

Be sure to watch the additional features, and no worries, because “Partly Cloudy” is not a trailer for Partly Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, but in fact is an adorable short about storks that I hope gives way to a feature length film.

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From the week of November 15th, 2009

God Told Me To

god told me to coverdirected by Larry Cohen (1976)

Larry Cohen is best known for his campy horror romp The Stuff, but even with that blockbuster under his belt, he’s remained an elusive and under-appreciated filmmaker with a cult fan base only (Jim goes so far as to insist that he’s responsible for the only ‘bearable’ episode of Masters of Horrible). God Told Me To, a cheap low-grade horror movie, will not necessarily win over those of you not already a part of that fan base, but it’s a strangely interesting, audacious and compelling movie for anyone trawling the horror section for something a little off-kilter.

Like many of my favorite horror films, God Told Me To benefits from its small budget, even the grainy and worn out looking film transfer enhances the weird mood. From the opening scenes of a busy Manhattan street suddenly under attack from a rooftop sniper, the movie is propelled by a simple but incredibly effective terror premise: innocent, law abiding people are suddenly (and seemingly randomly) turning into homicidal maniacs. The phenomenon is spreading like a virus, and in the aftermath of the bloodbaths, all the people who have been affected claim that God told them to kill (their spouses, children, neighbors, etc).

It’s a fascinating story and one that with or without credit, I think highly influenced the excellent Japanese director Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s film Cure where a police officer uncovers the strange connection between seemingly normal people committing sudden random murders.

The police officer in this film is played by Tony Lo Bianco, who I was thrilled to see from Honeymoon Killers. Other familiar faces are here as well, including Sandy Dennis (from Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf), Andy Kaufman (against type as a police man and mass murderer), and Sylvia Sidney (who I recognized instantly as the old lady who blows smoke out of her open neck in Beetlejuice).

There’s a straightforwardness and lack of melodrama to the direction which can be refreshing but is just as frequently a flaw; the lack of accentuated drama can make the latter half of the film drag, and huge elements of the plot are simply skimmed over… and what a plot it is! Quite daringly, it’s ultimately a movie about an alien evil Jesus with Cronenbergian elements. Could this have been made into a better film? Probably, but I doubt many would dare to.

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