Only now does it occur to me... BONE TOMAHAWK (2015)

Only now does it occur to me... that Sid Haig and David Arquette ought to co-star in a full-fledged buddy comedy.

 

Their dynamic here––as a couple of bumbling, cutthroat highwaymen––only lasts for a few minutes, but it's thoroughly enjoyable, with Sid doing the irascible old man bit and Arquette dialing up the sort of Steven Weber-pastiche he nailed in Mick Garris' RIDING THE BULLET.

The film itself has some pacing issues and a streak of unlikeability––it's a generally nihilistic thriller, part acid western and part torture porn.

 

But then again, it's great to see that mustache on screen again.  Kurt presumably grew it for THE HATEFUL EIGHT, but sensibly realized that it was far too fantastic a 'stache to confine to only one film.

He also has a great "grumpy old men" relationship with brilliant character actor Richard Jenkins (THE CABIN IN THE WOODS, THE VISITOR, BURN AFTER READING).

There are some notable performances and shenanigans along the way––an extremely restrained Sean Young shows up, possibly wearing the same shoulder pads from BLADE RUNNER:

 

Matthew Fox chomps on cigars and occasionally contorts his face into the expression known to LOST fans as "Jackface":

and the tribal troglodyte villains seem culled from a MAD MAX movie, but that's okay, too.

BONE TOMAHAWK, ladies and gentlemen.

Film Review: EMPEROR OF THE NORTH (1973, Robert Aldrich)

Stars: 5 of 5.

Running Time: 118 minutes.

Tag-line: "Lee Marvin and Ernest Borgnine Meet in the Fight of the Century!"

Notable Cast or Crew:  Lee Marvin (THE KILLERS, THE DELTA FORCE, THE DIRTY DOZEN), Ernest Borgnine (MARTY, ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK, THE DIRTY DOZEN), Keith Carradine (THE DUELLISTS, NASHVILLE), Charles Tyner (COOL HAND LUKE, HAROLD & MAUDE), Malcolm Atterbury (THE BIRDS, RIO BRAVO), Simon Oakland (PSYCHO, WEST SIDE STORY), Elisha Cook Jr. (ROSEMARY'S BABY, THE MALTESE FALCON), Sid Haig (SPIDER BABY, COFFY), and an uncredited Lance Henriksen (ALIENS, THE TERMINATOR).  Written by Christopher Knopf (20 MILLION MILES TO EARTH, HELL BENT FOR LEATHER) and based on a short story by Jack London.  Directed by Robert Aldrich (WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO BABY JANE?, THE DIRTY DOZEN, KISS ME DEADLY).

Best One-liner: "You have as much a chance as a one-legged man at an asskicking contest!"

This movie's sleazier'n a bumfight in August, redder'n a hot poker, and madder'n a hobo gettin' whipped with a chain!  It's sweaty, dirty, and foamin' at the mouth.  The concept behind this film is as ridiculous as it is brilliant:  Ernest Borgnine is 'Shack'- a railroad man who'll risk his life to kill any bum who tries to hitch a free ride.

Lee Marvin is A-Number 1, a bum who lives by the bum's code, and will risk his life, just on principle, to hitch a free ride on any and every train.  
Keith Carradine is A-Number 1's protege who may or may not have what it takes to be "Emperor of the North Pole."

This movie is dripping with testosterone, tobacco juice, and blood; it calls hobos "hoboes" in an opening crawl that seems culled from a MAD MAX movie––

it features an uncredited Lance Henriksen (I think I blinked and missed him) and a young Sid Haig:

and the entire affair is as brutal as a 2x4 thwack to the guts.  And that thwack just might be accompanied by some gentle honkytonk piano.  Wait a second. Did I just see some street urchins get beaten with a live chicken by Lee Marvin?  You bet I did.



A statistically insignificant amount of animals and children were harmed in this production.

And wait for the scene where Lee, holding a live, purloined turkey, taunts a cop who asks him what he's doing with the bird.


Lee insists it's his pet dog, who's offended by the comparison to a turkey, and could the officer please...bark...now.  The now-terrified policeman quickly complies with some bow-wowing,

and Lee lets loose with a priceless facial expression that can only mean 'You'd better start barking better.'

I feel as if this is the movie that set the 'Sons of Lee Marvin' (a fan club formed by Tom Waits, Nick Cave, Jim Jarmusch, Iggy Pop, Neil Young, John Lurie) into motion.  I'd say it's a huge influence on Jarmusch's DEAD MAN, for one.

The whole thing leads up to a merciless conclusion––a no-holds-barred fight between Shack and A-Number 1 that involves hammers, spikes, axes, 2x4s, chains, and the train itself.  It's one of the most visceral battles in cinema.




It, and this entire film, are a credit to director Robert Aldrich (WHATEVER HAPPENED TO BABY JANE?, THE DIRTY DOZEN, KISS ME DEADLY)'s ability to merge action and character study; Lee Marvin's sheer, enduring, haggard presence; Ernest Borgnine's twisted, gnarled, vile energy; and the ability of all three to collaborate in a manner where somehow nothing strains your suspension of disbelief.  God bless this movie.  Five stars.

–Sean Gill

Only now does it occur to me... BLOOD BATH

Only now does it occur to me... that––yikes––Sid Haig has played basically every ethnicity, at one time or another.

BLOOD BATH is a fairly terrible, but fairly watchable Roger Corman clusterfuck with an exceptionally convoluted production history that involved a Yugoslavian spy thriller, a Venice Beach-set vampire flick, co-financing by Roger Corman and Stephanie Rothman, co-direction by the legendary Jack Hill (COFFY, THE BIG BIRD CAGE, SPIDER BABY, FOXY BROWN) and Rothman, music (predictably) stolen from DEMENTIA 13, and all sorts of other random and bewildering things.  You can read about the absurdly labyrinthine twists and turns of the production here.

Also, it features one of the worst-looking vampires ever:

But that's not the point of this entry– the point is the hilarious spectrum of quasi-ethnic roles that have been played by Sid Haig.  Here, he plays a beatnik named "Abdul the Arab."

  
 Haig (far right) in a well-constructed community theater vest)

Haig (second from left) placing a close 2nd in the scene-chewing contest of this particular tableau

From what I've read, he's actually Armenian-American, but in other fine films he's played Latino (THE FIREBRAND, IRON HORSE, THE FLYING NUN, CHE!, MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE), Native American (DANIEL BOONE), Italian (THE MAN FROM U.N.C.L.E., DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER, MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE), Turkish (GET SMART, OHARA), Arabian (BLOOD BATH, THE DON IS DEAD, SWITCH, FANTASY ISLAND, MACGUYVER),  Russian (MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE), South American Indian (THE FORBIDDEN DANCE IS LAMBADA), Ambiguous Asian (BRING 'EM BACK ALIVE), and just plain "Swarthy" (MISFITS OF SCIENCE).  And I'm certain there's dozens I've missed or haven't seen.  Whew! Uh, well done, Mr. Haig––you truly are a one man "It's a small world (after all)."

Film Review: DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER (1971, Guy Hamilton)

 

Stars: 4.5 of 5.

Running Time: 120 minutes.

Notable Cast or Crew:  Sean Connery, Bruce Glover (CHAINDANCE, CHINATOWN), Jill St. John (THE LOST WORLD '60, TONY ROME), Lana Wood (sister of Natalie, THE SEARCHERS, PEYTON PLACE), Charles Gray (THE ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW, SCARLETT), Jimmy Dean (country singer, creator of Jimmy Dean sausages, distant cousin of James Dean), Bruce Cabot (KING KONG, FURY), Putter Smith (IN THE MOOD, LOVE THY NEIGHBOR), Desmond Llewelyn (Q in GOLDFINGER, THUNDERBALL, etc.), Lois Maxwell (Moneypenny from DR. NO to A VIEW TO A KILL), Valerie Perrine (CAN'T STOP THE MUSIC, LENNY), Sid Haig (SPIDER BABY, THE DEVIL'S REJECTS).

Tag-line: "The man who made 007 a household number!"

Best one-liner:  [James Bond delivers the following to a sewer rat] "Well, one of us smells like a tart's hankerchief."  (sniffs self)  "I'm afraid it's me.  Sorry, old boy."

Alrighty folks, I'm here to tell you about my nine favorite facets of the gem that is DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER:

#9.  Bruce Glover


#8.  Bruce Glover


#7.  Bruce Glover


#6.  Bruce Glover


#5.  Bruce Glover


#4.  Bruce Glover


#3.  Bruce Glover


#2.  Bruce Glover


#1.  Bruce Glover


Well, while in all seriousness, that's all true, I suppose I'll give you a little more to go on:  DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER is one of my favorite films in the Bond franchise and is, in my mind, superior to all save for GOLDFINGER and FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE.  So let's get down to brass tacks:  my nine favorite facets from the gem of DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER, culminating in a salute to Bruce Glover:

#9.  The prevalance of a cat's eye in the opening credits, which naturally transforms into a diamond.

As you may already know, I'm something of an aficionado of cat's eyes in credit sequences.
     



#8.  Sean Connery's disaffection, which nearly reaches Mitchum-esque levels of aloofness.

Sean Connery:  in it for the money.

They brought him back after the short-lived (one film) Lazenby era, and he was in it for the $1.25 million, and little else, it would seem.  Conversely, he was willing to really throw himself into ZARDOZ for only $200,000, so take that for what you will.

Sean Connery:  in it for the art.

#7.  Hey, look, it's Sid Haig!

Right there, in the middle.  You may remember his stern visage from SPIDER BABY, FOXY BROWN, EMPEROR OF THE NORTH, THX 1138, or from his latter-day career resurgence in films like THE DEVIL'S REJECTS or JACKIE BROWN.  He's given nearly nothing to do here as a mob henchman/funeral home attendant, but it's still nice to see him.


#6.  Misogyny, through the rabbit hole.

There are brief moments of misogyny in James Bond films that emerge, I suppose, as fleetingly offensive products of their time.  Then there are the moments of misogyny that are so ludicrous, so abusive, so absurdly pathological, that you have no choice but to laugh.  To do so is nearly a defense mechanism.  Here, we have Connery strangling a woman (who has some association with Blofeld, possibly with two or more degrees of separation) with her own bikini top, which could probably be employed as a visual metaphor for the entire series' gender politics as a whole.



Then he drops a one-liner about not being able to hear her... because she's being choked.  Perhaps the most insane element of this entire tableau is the intense look of satisfaction on Connery's face.  Which, naturally, ties in to his beliefs about domestic violence.  The incident is so deranged that it can only inspire a deranged response from its audience.  In other words:  classic Bond.

#5.  The candy-colored production design on this circus themed casino from the film's second act.


It has all the class and subtlety of a sheet of Necco's Candy Buttons, which obviously means that I like it a lot.  And with those black backgrounds amid cheap, bright 70s colors, I can't help but feel like they could have filmed THE LETTER PEOPLE there, if they'd wanted to.

#4.  Lana Wood.  Natalie Wood's kid sister gets a chance to appear as a bodacious, short-lived Bond girl and casino hanger-on named "Plenty O'Toole."
 

Apparently her line readings were so, um, creative that she had to be dubbed by an actress in post-production.  That kind of makes me sad, actually.

#3.  The amazingly stupid moon buggy chase which feels like something straight out of PEE-WEE'S BIG ADVENTURE.



It's made all the more fantastic by reports that Connery secretly bought the buggy at auction in 2004 for $54,000.  Though others have refuted this claim, I have no choice but to believe that it's a cover-up designed to hide the fact that as we speak, Connery is driving it around the Scottish highlands, bouncing about and giggling like a schoolchild.

#2.  Bambi and Thumper.  Oh, Bambi and Thumper: the Blofeld henchwomen that nearly hand Bond's ass to him after a prolonged beatdown involving Van-Damme-style splits

and parallel bars fight manuevers that would later be recycled in GYMKATA and JURASSIC PARK II.

The ladies in question are Trina Parks, cult blaxploitation legend (DARKTOWN STRUTTERS, THE MUTHERS)

and Lola Larson, who never appeared in another film.
 
 Look at all that scantily clad female empowerment.  I take it back– this film's not misogynistic!
 
Of course the whole 'Estrogen party' comes to an end with Bond nearly drowning them, hatefully, in a pool.  ...Annnnd the actresses went uncredited.  Hoo boy.

 #1.  Bruce Glover.  Finally!  As "Mr. Wint," one half of the villainous gay assassination squad "Mr. Wint and Mr. Kidd," Glover does what he does best:  acts like a jubilant psychopath.
 
 
Observe the look of sheer, childlike exuberance that plays upon his face as he prepares to drop a scorpion down the shirt-back of a helpful, diamond-smuggling dentist.

Though "Mr. Kidd" (Putter Smith) is also excellent, this entry belongs to Glover, who prefigures his son Crispin as a man committed to making the most unexpected, completely bonkers acting choices.

 Throughout the film's entirety he obsessively sprays himself with aftershave

 
 in a move designed to lead to "whodunit" conclusion whereupon Bond recognizes the smell and reacts likewise.  But as with any 'Great Thing,' we're in it for the journey, not the destination.

Also, the gay partnership element must be addressed.

Smith and Glover never descend into limp-wristed, offensive territory (what I might call "the minstrelization of gay performance"), and that's good.  There's even subtle jealousies that play out between the two, and it's very well-acted for a movie as cartoonish as this one.  (Supposedly, Glover stayed in character throughout filming convincing Sean Connery that he was really gay, a charade that lasted until years later.)

You might even think that simply having gay characters in a mainstream 1971 film is in and of itself a progressive thing, though having the first (and possibly only?  I haven't seen any recent Bond films, nor read many of the novels) gay characters be sociopathic killers isn't necessarily the greatest choice.  And we must keep in mind that 1971 was the year of, for example, SUNDAY BLOODY SUNDAY, a complex relationship drama that maturely analyzes all ends of the sexual spectrum.

And then there's the matter of [MINOR SPOILER ALERT] Bruce Glover's send-off, which involves an oddly sexualized humiliation with Bond practically mounting Glover in order to tie his coat-tails to a bomb and pinwheel him off the deck of a luxury cruise ship.
 
  

It should feel jaw-droppingly offensive, but there's Glover, by God, pushing it over the edge into actual brilliance.  Give this man an Oscar.  

Nearly five stars, 007.

-Sean Gill