Only now does it occur to me... PERFECT STRANGERS, "BLACK WIDOW" (6x10) (1990)

Only now does it occur to me... that PERFECT STRANGERS made a TWIN PEAKS joke at a very intriguing time. In this particular episode, Larry (Mark Linn-Baker) has become convinced that his cousin Balki's (Bronson Pinchot) girlfriend Mary Ann is a "black widow killer" and has murdered her roommate, Jenifer. When Larry is proven wrong on this count (and not for the last time), Balki says,

"Now that you've solved the Jennifer 'murder,' maybe you can figure out who killed Laura Palmer?" 

 

This is an obvious reference to the iconic central mystery of TWIN PEAKS' first season: Who killed Laura Palmer? (Incidentally, ABC aired both TWIN PEAKS and PERFECT STRANGERS.) However, what makes this joke especially interesting––as it's the only TWIN PEAKS reference on PERFECT STRANGERS, so far as I can ascertain––is the timing. This episode was shot on September 26, 1990 (four days before the premiere of TWIN PEAKS' second season), suggesting that it was perhaps an intra-ABC cross-promotional idea. TWIN PEAKS went on to reveal Laura Palmer's killer in a David Lynch-directed episode (2x7), which aired on November 10. Then, this PERFECT STRANGERS episode ultimately aired on November 30 to viewers who, by then, would already have known who had killed Laura Palmer. The very next day, December 1, saw the airing of the TWIN PEAKS episode (2x9) which tied up the arc of Laura's killer and answered some lingering questions (some!) about the nature of the murder. Is all of this useless information? I mean, probably. But that's sorta this site's bread and butter, amirite?

Film Review: VAMPIRES (1998, John Carpenter)

Stars: 3.5 of 5.
Running Time: 108 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: James Woods, Daniel Baldwin (HOMICIDE: LIFE ON THE STREET, BORN ON THE FOURTH OF JULY), Sheryl Lee (TWIN PEAKS, BACKBEAT, WINTER'S BONE), Tim Guinee (BLADE, IRON MAN), Maximilian Schell (JUDGMENT AT NUREMBERG, ST. IVES, CROSS OF IRON), Thomas Ian Griffith (THE KARATE KID PART III, XXX), Mark Boone Jr. (DIE HARD 2, BATMAN BEGINS). Cinematography by Gary Kibbe. Written by Don Jakoby (BLUE THUNDER, DEATH WISH 3, ARACHNOPHOBIA) and based on the novel by John Steakley. Cameo by Frank Darabont as 'car theft victim.'
Tag-line: "Prepare for the Dawn."
Best one-liner: "The sunlight turns 'em into crispy critters."


VAMPIRES underwent a lot of excellent re-evaluation during Radiator Heaven's Carpenter Blogathon this October, so I was feeling the compulsion to revisit it. My opinion was that it wasn't terribly bad nor was it terribly good, but that it was still a solid, Hawks-infused, second-tier Carpenter. This still stands, but I believe I must attach a caveat: VAMPIRES is the sort of movie you should probably watch alone. I think you know what I mean. As soon as the prying eyes of some second party, non-Carpenter apologist stray across the screen you begin to feel some pangs of embarrassment because an action scene is being presented with rampant dissolves, or some lesser Baldwin is smacking around Laura Palmer, or James Woods is delivering a speech about boners. Suffice it to say, that even to a girlfriend who's on board with THE THING and THEY LIVE, VAMPIRES is a pretty tough sell. VAMPIRES has got a lot of 'slowed-frame-rate slow motion,' which, for lack of better terminology, is The Slow Motion That Looks Like Shit. There are moments where so much exposition ("I know your parents were bitten by vampires, but...") is being jammed down our throats, it feels almost like we're being mugged. There's Maxmilian Schell in a Cardinal's outfit that might have been plucked from a community theater's Kostume Kloset.
I don't know if you can tell from this photo, but that cross may have been purchased from a craft store.

You see, the budget was cut by 66% right before filming began, and we can't blame Carpy for that. But there's a lot of good stuff, too. First off, there's no glaringly hideous low-budge CGI to muck up the proceedings––in fact, some of Greg Nicotero's makeup effects are damned impressive. But secondly, the movie is cool. Though it pains me to say it, in this movie, James Woods is cool. Don't believe me? Check out these pictures taken of him walking away from an explosion without even flinching.




Check out those mini-aviators, the cigar, and the scowl. He lights matches off of skulls for chrissakes.

Even when his nuts are on fire, he's got something snappy to say.

And he sells it. In order for a movie like this to succeed, it's gotta be carried by someone, and James Woods is up for the task. In those 'iffy' moments, you have to look to someone for leadership. We look to Woods, and he looks committed enough... so the movie stays afloat. His sidekick, Montoya, is played by the lesser Baldwin named Daniel. He drinks Red Dog, wears denim, and has got a fancy necklace that he bought from the mall.


We meet them in a scene that's very NEAR DARK-meets-Howard Hawks: getting to know the characters, in media res, in relation to their work. Though most of our expendable blue-collar heroes don't survive the first twenty minutes, Carpenter (and DP Kibbe) introduce the crew as hardened, workaday men, sleazy but professional, who exist someplace in that ambiguous zone betwixt 'pistolero' and 'SWAT Team.' Everyone has a job to do, and their determination and speciality devices lend a quality of verisimilitude to the proceedings.


(Though, later, during the aforementioned 'team massacre' near the twenty-minute mark, one team member comically shows uncommon ineptitude by attempting to stake a vampire right in the heart. Er, I mean, right in a spot three feet above his head.)


Our master vampire is played by Thomas Ian Griffith (KARATE KID III's "Terry Silver"), who kinda plays it like a cross between Richard E. Grant and Tommy Wiseau.

There is a great moment though, when a portrait of the Master, supposedly painted in 1340, is revealed.

Any resemblance to a Sears portrait, circa 1998, with a layer of 'oil painting' Photoshop rendering, is purely coincidental. Then we got Sheryl Lee as the 'sex worker-turned-vampire' who has a psychic link with the Master. She imbues the role with a genuine intensity that it doesn't quite deserve. (With shades of her Laura Palmer-as-possessed-by-BOB from TWIN PEAKS: FIRE WALK WITH ME!) As written, the role- and large swaths of the script as a whole (not written by Carpenter)- are fairly misogynistic, which is especially surprising considering that it's a Carpy film.


A lesser Baldwin stikes a lady


Random bondage

Lee and Carpenter work together to give it some added depth, however, and additionally, she can probably lay claim to being the freakiest element of the film.
The soundtrack is classic Carpy: bass-heavy, twangy, and usually building momentum, like his work on THEY LIVE and PRINCE OF DARKNESS. Kibbe's cinematography is up to par, and one scene in particular, whereupon the Master Vampire and his minions rise out of the prairie dust, is especially effective.

Anyway, the movie chugs along, Woods picks up another sidekick in the form of a nerdy priest played by Tim Guinee, there's some enjoyable action setpieces, some kind of hamfisted but not out-of-place commentary on the Catholic church, and the line "How do ya like your 'stake,' bitch?" Between all the screaming and yelling and grappling with blood-coated women and utterances of "fucking bitch" and all that, you get the idea that it's almost a 'day in the life' of James Woods the actor, and it's really too bad that Sean Young couldn't make an appearance in this film, too. To make a long story short, we conclude with a classically existential Carpenter denouement that smacks, most admirably, of the master Hawks himself.


Then, after the most genuine moment of the film (and one which it deserves to have) Carpenter boldly ends the movie with Woods and his new priest-buddy talking about boners.






Now, somehow I find that I can get behind this wholeheartedly: it takes balls to end your movie with a bunch of wisecracks about boners. But it's the kinda thing that makes you wince when somebody pops their head in, and just sees that part. So, alone, I give VAMPIRES four stars. When forced to defend it to somebody who has, uh, higher standards, I have to admit it's probably about two and a half. So let's split the difference. I still love ya, Carpy.

FIlm Review: WILD AT HEART (1990, David Lynch)

Stars: 5 of 5.
Running Time: 124 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: One of the greatest ensembles ever assembled: Nic Cage, Laura Dern, Diane Ladd, Willem Dafoe, Grace Zabriskie, Sheryl Lee, Sherilyn Fenn, Harry Dean Stanton, J.E. Freeman, David Patrick Kelly, Isabella Rossellini, Crispin Glover, Jack Nance, John Lurie, Calvin Lockhart, William Morgan Sheppard, Freddie Jones. Music by Angelo Badalamenti. Based on the novel by Barry Gifford.
Best one-liner: "This is a snakeskin jacket! And for me it's a symbol of my individuality, and my belief... in personal freedom."

Magnificent, beautiful, and disturbing, Lynch's Palm d'or-winning adaptation of Barry Gifford's novel, filtered through the emerald lens of THE WIZARD OF OZ, is certainly as fiery and unpredictable as the slow-motion flames that are wont to erupt intermittently from the screen.

A masterpiece of style, a frequent complaint is that the whole is less than the sum of the parts. I can concede that this film is not for everyone. It's not. But how can you say 'no' to a Nic Cage that's so intense, he karate chops the air when he dances and wears thong underwear;


a Laura Dern so sultry, she's posing with her hand sweeping through her coiffure for most of the film; a Willem Dafoe so creepy his gums cover half of his teeth (and whose first appearance, a slow stroll amid Christmas lights and obese porno actresses- is one of the most comically terrifying entrances in film history);

a Harry Dean Stanton so endearing he tugs at your heartstrings even as he yips and yaps at hyenas on TV:

a crippled, lipstick-smeared Grace Zabriskie who is so goddamned freaky that she'll make your hair curl:

or a Diane Ladd whose tremendous performance is punctuated by the real-life mother-daughter relationship? There's the regular host of Lynchian terrors, laughs, and genuinely bizarre characters that make Hollywood's attempts at quirkiness seem like the pathetic fumblings of a child. There's a cameo by Crispin Glover that packs more material and layers of performance and meaning in a mere two minutes than most actors can aspire to in a feature. There's John Lurie in a Confederate flag hat. There's Jack Nance with an invisible dog.

There's Angelo Badalamenti making the most blood-curdling use of a brass section, ever. There's homage to Jacques Tati (involving a giant red pipe in Big Tuna) and Akira Kurosawa (the feed store dog with the severed hand like in YOJIMBO). It's 124 minutes of exhiliration, dread, and magical Americana. And there's as much oddness, terror, love, and joy as there really is in this world that's so "wild at heart and weird on top," and to give any more away would do the film a disservice. One of the greats.

-Sean Gill


Side Note: The current R1 MGM DVD is an edited version of the film, but not severely. About 2 seconds have been obscured by smoke and a few frames removed from a scene where a certain character loses their head.

Additional Side Note: Read my LOVELESS review for my opinion on Monty Montgomery's contributions to the film.

Film Review: TWIN PEAKS- FIRE WALK WITH ME (1992, David Lynch)

Stars: 5 of 5.
Running Time: 135 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Sheryl Lee, Ray Wise, Grace Zabriskie, Kyle MacLachlan, Eric DaRe, Heather Graham, David Bowie, Chris Isaak, Harry Dean Stanton, Kiefer Sutherland, Jürgen Prochnow, Miguel Ferrer, Dana Ashbrook, Mädchen Amick, Frances Bay, Walter Olkewicz, James Marshall. Music by Angelo Badalamenti.
Tag-line: "Meet Laura Palmer... In a town where nothing is as it seems... And everyone has something to hide."
Best one-liner: "Hey, slow pokes... Guess what? There's no tomorrow... Know why, baby? 'Cause it'll never get here!"

David Lynch's TWIN PEAKS: FIRE WALK WITH ME is a misunderstood masterpiece, a surrealist treatise on the psychology of abuse, the nature of evil, and a host of other (domestic) horrors. It's chilling, expressionistic, and punctuated by moments of genuine terror. Thematically, Lynch picks up where his near-apocalyptic finale left off. If the series was about peeling the veneer away from quirky, small-town America; then the movie is about peeling the veneer from the show itself. In fact, the first image of the film is, literally, a television being smashed-

Lynch is wiping the slate clean for this even darker tale; similar to the off-handed, undignified manner with which he disposed of Windom Earle (who had stolen Season 2's focus from the pure, calculating evil known as BOB). FIRE WALK WITH ME goes through the proverbial looking glass, and we're entreated to many scenes that mirror ones in the series, but which are twisted and contorted by evil (and our knowledge of the future).

In the Deer Meadow police station, we're presented with a creepy, cackling deputy and secretary who offer days-old coffee and give the FBI (Kiefer Sutherland and Chris Isaak) the runaround- it's a warped, 'other side of the mirror' reflection of Andy, Lucy, and Sheriff Truman's genuine playfulness and hospitality when we meet them in the Pilot.


At Hap's Diner, we're given a skewed version of Norma's pride and joy. Where Norma Jennings would heartbreakingly roll out the 'fancy' plastic checkered tablecloths at the thought of a notorious food critic coming to town, Irene assholishly announces, "You want to hear about our specials?.... WE DON'T HAVE ANY."

And yet, I still love Irene.

We're shown 'The Pink Room,' a north-of-the-border bar which makes One-Eyed Jack's look wholesome and serves as a depraved version of 'The Roadhouse,' with its semi-'safe' 50's juvenile delinquent-style fisticuffs from the Pilot.


The Pink Room is a veritable hell on Earth, and Ron Garcia's wobbly, disorienting cinematography makes it probably the most accurate depiction of being dangerously inebriated that I’ve ever seen.

Lynch's use of violence is startling (and similarly disorienting) at times- much like Cronenberg, he's a big fan of the one over-the-top moment of violence in the film that really pushes the envelope, even if only for a split second. Look at the decapitation-by-shotgun in WILD AT HEART, the point blank head explosion in BLUE VELVET, the rotted corpse in MULHOLLAND DR., or the dissection by glass table in LOST HIGHWAY.

Here, it's the scene where Bobby shoots a "drug dealer" whom we've seen earlier in the picture. I'd be interested in seeing Lynch's reactions when these scenes are being shot- is he beside himself with juvenile glee, or is he troubled by what 'must' be committed to celluloid in order to complete his vision?



Is this mysterious, uncredited woman really David Lynch himself in drag? I think so.


David Bowie with a Southern accent is well worth the price of admission and serves as proper penance for THE LINGUINI INCIDENT.


David Lynch's Gordon Cole. Quite possibly my favorite character.

Harry Dean Stanton does in just two scenes what most actors can't aspire to in an entire career. The quiet desperation which he breathes into "That godammed trailer's more popular that Uncle's day in a whorehouse, you see what I mean? It just means I've....more shit I gotta do now," ...goddamit, I'm about to cry over here.

The man exudes pathos with the ease that a fat man sweats. It reminds me of his big scene in DILLINGER when he says, "Things ain't workin' out for me today..."

Then, Eric "THIS IS WHERE WE LIVE, SHELLY!" DaRe brings more of his vein-bustin' ponytailed douchery to the table,

and Walter "Jacques Renault" Olkewicz is given the opportunity to revive his sloppy, slobbery French Canadian sleazebag.


Sheryl Lee channels the tradition of wide-eyed, doomed silent film heroines,

Ray Wise brings his brow-furrowing intensity to a level the series only alluded to,

and Grace Zabriskie's bug-eyed, off kilter energy is always incredible.

The denial of the victims and the rift in believing (or wanting to believe) the abuser and the ‘good’ person are two different entities has never rung so true.

Ultimately, Lynch and Badalmenti heighten the murder to such a degree that it becomes almost a religious experience- the rail car transformed into a cathedral, each blow like a strike of lightning.

We're left with a reflective ending which hints that the shitstorm at the end of Season 2 could possibly be rectified, and that perhaps the murder was necessary to properly disarrange the pieces of BOB's hateful, interdimensional puzzle (I will debate this in the comments section, if you'd like). But FIRE WALK WITH ME gazes deeply and powerfully into the abyss- a soothing enigma and a shriek unto the night- and still it leaves you with a touch of comfort and a spark of hope.

Five stars.

-Sean Gill

Well, it is one of the scariest movies of all time, so I guess it goes on the list:

2009 Halloween Countdown OVERFLOW

1. [•REC] (2007, Jaume Balagueró & Paco Plaza)
2. THE MANITOU (1978, William Girdler)
3. SLEEPWALKERS (1992, Mick Garris)
4. CUTTING CARDS (1990, Walter Hill)
5. THE LEOPARD MAN (1943, Jacques Tourneur)
6. MY BEST FRIEND IS A VAMPIRE (1987, Jimmy Huston)
7. HELLBOUND: HELLRAISER II (1988, Tony Randel)
8. TWIN PEAKS: FIRE WALK WITH ME (1992, David Lynch)
9.
...