Only now does it occur to me... STORYVILLE (1992)

Only now does it occur to me... a few things about STORYVILLE.

STORYVILLE is the only feature film to be written and directed by Mark Frost, co-creator of TWIN PEAKS. I watched it because I am a TWIN PEAKS die-hard. Here's what I learned:

#1. It can't decide whether it wants to be a John Grisham-style courtroom drama or a Cannon Film. Think that sounds ridiculous? Then just let me lay the plot synopsis on you, and you can tell me the exact point where Grisham gives way to Golan-Globus:

Clay Fowler (James Spader) is a young Louisianan whippersnappuh and ace lawyer running for Congress.

There's all sorts of corruption and family history and bayous and rockin' chairs and microfiche––


Most films of this kind make you wait about an hour for the microfiche montage sequence, but STORYVILLE delivers it in the opening shots of the movie!

and there're backroom deals and suspenders and an irascible performance by Jason Robards,

and pathos exuded by Woody Strode in browline eyeglasses,

but then––ladies and gentlemen, just when you think you're watching THE CLIENT or THE PELICAN BRIEF, James Spader finds himself in hot water (literally) when he is blackmailed after being videotaped having sex with a martial arts instructor in her studio's (ninja) hot tub:

And this is after they've already 'sexy-sparred' like Grace Jones and Christopher Walken in A VIEW TO A KILL.


A VIEW TO A KILL meets A TIME TO KILL?

Allow me to reiterate two things. One: I am not making this up. Two: ninja hot tubs are a staple of 1980s cinema, and I don't know why. I call them "ninja" hot tubs and not "martial arts" hot tubs (or even "jiu jitsu jacuzzis"), because they first appear in the Cannon classic REVENGE OF THE NINJA, where three separate hot tubs involving ninjas are made integral to the plot. In Cannon's NINJA III: THE DOMINATION, a ninja hot tub makes a notable appearance as a site of possessed ninja murder. In BLIND FURY (not a Cannon film, but starring Cannon's Sho Kosugi), there is a climactic martial arts and swordfighting duel over a hot tub. Later on in STORYVILLE, Spader returns to the scene of the ninja hot tub and battles a martial arts assassin. What does all of this mean? I was hoping you could tell me.



#2. If you're looking for TWIN PEAKS, you found it... (kind of).

There's a small town, quirky characters, and a dead body floating in the water in the opening scenes.

He's dead... Wrapped in... the clothes he was already wearing, I guess. 

It shares with TWIN PEAKS its casting director (Johanna Ray), cinematographer (Ron Garcia), production designer (Richard Hoover), set decorator (Brian Kasch), second-assistant director (Randy Barbee), and co-producer (Robert D. Simon).  It features a small, weirdo role for Catherine Martell herself, Piper Laurie:

and a villainous turn (obviously) by Renault brother Michael Parks:

 

who is sort of playing the same corrupt cop he played in THE HITMAN, though in this role he is permitted both the Cannon flourish of beating up James Spader while wearing a terrifying mask:

as well as the Grisham flourish of testifying in a courtroom that the judge "will not allow to turn into a circus!"

Michael Parks was a national treasure, by the way.

In closing, this is a strange (and, I'll be honest, often mediocre) little movie that may find appreciative viewers among TWIN PEAKS enthusiasts, hot tub fans, Grisham die-hards, and, I daresay, aficionados of the Southern Fried Crawdad-Lickin' Sleaze-O-Rama genre.

Only now does it occur to me... THE QUICK AND THE DEAD

Only now does it occur to me... that the first time Sharon Stone produced a vanity project (this was her first-ever producer credit) she chose a Western mash-up of UNFORGIVEN and BLOODSPORT.

Written by Simon West (best known to readers of this site for his twisted fairy tale adventure THE 10TH KINGDOM) and script-doctored by Joss Whedon, THE QUICK AND THE DEAD is revenge tale told from beneath the shadow of ONCE UPON A TIME WITH WEST, but with the trappings of UNFORGIVEN.

[Gene Hackman essentially plays "Little Bill" once more, although this time he shamelessly phones in his performance.

Also, a criminally under-used Lance Henriksen is our stand-in for Richard Harris' "English Bob," but more on that in a minute.]

The aforementioned revenge is sought during a gunfighting contest, which is set up, tournament-style and with plenty of montages, almost exactly like the Kumite in BLOODSPORT.  Though directed with stylistic panache by Sam Raimi (a Raimi Western?!––hey, at least it's got "dead" in the title), it's never quite as good as it ought to be, and for a movie lined wall-to-wall with Leone-style duel scenes, it's rarely exciting.  A "too much of a good thing" scenario of there ever was one. 


A few small observations:

#1. Mopey Sharon Stone.  I don't know why, but when actors produce their own vanity projects, they usually make sure that they get to do plenty o' mopin'.  They want as much screen-time as possible to knead their brows and get that sad, faraway look in their eyes.



This is a Revenge-Gunfighting-Kumite movie for godssake, and Sharon Stone is over here patronizing the audience and jonesin' for an Oscar.  They should've just had Charlize Theron do it.


#2.  Big stars for cheap!  There's a pre-TITANIC and ROMEO + JULIET Leo DiCaprio:

and a pre-L.A. CONFIDENTIAL and GLADIATOR Russell Crowe:

They're fine.


#3.  Alan Silvestri totally plagiarizes his own soundtrack for PREDATOR throughout this movie.  It's a good soundtrack, but I kept waiting for the Predator to show up and enter the tournament.  Now that would've been something.


#4.  Bruce Campbell had a scene, but it was deleted.  They should release it in a collection with the deleted Alice Cooper scene from MAVERICK.


#4.  Keith David.  Massively underused, but wearing one of the best/worst fake mustaches in memory.

A fair trade, I suppose.


#5.  Lance Henriksen.  He's not around for long, but he essentially steals the movie as "Ace," a trick-shooter with a tremendous fashion sense.

The way he looks makes me furious that he never popped up in a supporting role on DEADWOOD.


#6. A Woody Strode cameo.

He's pretty ancient at this point, but he has a brief bit as a the town undertaker, and it's a nice throwback to ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST.


#7.  Mick Garris.  Errr–––WHAT?!

Seen here on the left manhandling Gary Sinise, Mick Garris (infamous Stephen King crony and director of laughable King adaptations like THE STAND, THE SHINING, DESPERATION, RIDING THE BULLET, and QUICKSILVER HIGHWAY) plays a glorified extra during a Sharon Stone flashback.  I have to say that when I woke up this morning, I never imagined my day would have Mick Garris in it.  Well, there he is.

–Sean Gill

Film Review: THE COTTON CLUB (1984, Francis Ford Coppola)

Stars: 4 of 5.
Running Time: 127 minutes.
Tag-line: "It was the jazz age. It was an era of elegance and violence. The action was gambling. The stakes were life and death."
Notable Cast or Crew: Richard Gere, Gregory Hines, Diane Lane, Bob Hoskins, John P. Ryan, James Remar, Nicolas Cage, Gwen Verdon, Laurence Fishburne, Julian Beck, Tom Waits, Jennifer Grey, Joe Dallesandro, Diane Venora, Woody Strode, James Russo, Giancarlo Esposito, Sofia Coppola, Mario van Peebles! Not to mention Kirk Taylor- The Giggler in DEATH WISH 3! Music by John Barry. Cinematography by Stephen Goldblatt (THE HUNGER, STRIPTEASE). Produced by Robert Evans.
Best one-liner: "Blow that bughouse bastard to kingdom come!"

A lot of the knee-jerk negative reactions to Coppola's 80's output either center on the films being too avant-garde (RUMBLE FISH) or too obsessed with duplicating the celluloid past (ONE FROM THE HEART), but those are two key reasons why his 80's films, however flawed, are some of my favorites. Coppola, along with producer Robert Evans (CHINATOWN, POPEYE)- who was at one point banned from his own set due to heightening tensions between the men- crafts a dreamy, extravagant, maudlin, and occasionally brutal atmosphere that lies somewhere between THE PUBLIC ENEMY, 42ND STREET, and THE GODFATHER.


James Remar demands your attention.

Richard Gere and Diane Lane are our stars, but they are essentially muted: instead, it’s the rogue's gallery of supporting players that lends THE COTTON CLUB power: James Remar as 'Dutch Schultz,' at once exuding charm and childishness- and prone to Pesci-style bursts of violence:

Nic Cage undergoing a journey from stilted milquetoast to raving 'Mad Dog Mick' gangster:

Bob Hoskins as a horse-obsessed (!) impresario who lets you know he's not fucking around, even as he calmly arranges some flowers; Gregory Hines as undisputed king of the tap-dance; Woody Strode as a stoic doorman; Mario van Peebles as a hoofer (the same year as EXTERMINATOR 2!); John P. Ryan as a racist, seething Schultz rival:

Larry Fishburne as a no-nonsense Harlem racketeer who's been pushed around by the whites long enough:

Tom Waits as a nettlesome club employee; Joe Dallesandro as 'Lucky' Luciano, the new Mafioso on the block; and bit parts by everyone from Giancarlo Esposito to Jennifer Grey to avant-garde theater pioneer Julian Beck. It's an exquisite, exhilarating world seen through an amber-colored lens:

A classic 30's montage reimagined.


Shades of Vittorio Storaro?


If only the real Cab Calloway had employed Mario van Peebles (not pictured).


SCHLERP

garish, ostentatious fashion, waterfalls of spurting champagne, elaborate Art Deco setpieces, and swirling, nostalgic montages- at any moment, this heightened tranquility could be perforated by a stroke of repulsive barbarism or a whirlwind of fame, fortune, and your wildest dreams. This is not a gritty, historical document, per sé- it’s a paean to the endless possibilities and intoxicating escapism of the silver screen, and that’s just the way I like it. Four stars.

-Sean Gill

Film Review: VIGILANTE (1983, William Lustig)

Stars: 5 of 5.
Running Time: 90 minutes.
Tag-line: "You're not safe anymore..."
Notable Cast or Crew: Robert Forster (ALLIGATOR, JACKIE BROWN, MEDIUM COOL), Fred Williamson (1990: BRONX WARRIORS, INGLORIOUS BASTARDS), Richard Bright (MARATHON MAN, THE GODFATHER), Joe Spinell (MANIAC!, BIG WEDNESDAY), Steve James (THE DELTA FORCE, AMERICAN NINJA), Woody Strode (ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST, KEOMA).

The instant VIGILANTE begins, you know you're in for something special. Right off the bat: "Magnum Motion Pictures, Inc. presents..." Gets you thinkin' about malt liquor, condoms, handguns. Hold that thought. Then, we got a group of people in a dimly lit, grimy classroom. Fred "the Hammer" Williamson is doin' his thing, giving an inspiration speech. We see them prepping for target practice.

The Hammer works the crowd- we're not gonna be victims anymore, it's time to take back the city- "THIS IS OUR WATERLOO, BABY!"

BLAM!! All the vigilantes shoot in unison. Blackout. The movie could end right here and still get five stars, and we're only 2 minutes in. And there's so much more great shit to come.

Watching this movie is akin to running a medieval gauntlet: basically, it's a nonstop assault of hoods abusing good citizens, and then vigilantes puttin' the hurt on the hoods. And it's extraordinarily artistic. Lustig is a scholar of Italian film, and he's been taking notes.


Argento, Castellari, Fulci, Leone- you can see them all, but VIGILANTE's strong enough to stand on its own. There is a LOT going on here: Kickass creepy syths and powerful electric Spanish guitar courtesy of Jay Chattaway and Willie Colon. Asscracks bathed in moody blue lighting. A crisp, tangible "New York in Autumn" atmosphere that conjures the twilight of society. Joe Spinell as perhaps the sleaziest lawyer in all of cinema:

Woody Strode as an elderly prison inmate with fists of steel and a heart of gold.

Robert Forster as a regular Joe whose life's been transformed into a waking nightmare:

Legendary hardass and provocateur Richard Bright with a ball bat. A pimp complains about the recession. A corrupt prison guard tells rapists in the shower to go ahead and "have a party." I really don't see how this could be any better.

A bunch of it was filmed in Greenpoint (in Brooklyn) too, which makes it extra special for me, because I used to live there.

I used to do my shopping at that Key Foods!

But back to The Hammer: beard neatly trimmed and eyes ablaze, he leaps off of buildings, does karate, and practically reaches through the screen to throttle you.

And I highly recommend the experience.

-Sean Gill

Film Review: KEOMA (1976, Enzo G. Castellari)

Stars: 5 of 5.
Running Time: 105 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Franco Nero (Nero is legendary: he's worked with Fassbinder, Bunuel, Castellari, and John Huston; he's played Jesus, Valentino, Versace, Django, and Lancelot!), Woody Strode (ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST, SPARTACUS, THE MAN WHO SHOT LIBERTY VALANCE), William Berger (VON RYAN'S EXPRESS, DJANGO 2), De Angelis (soundtrack, THE LAST SHARK), Donald O'Brian (TROLL 3: QUEST FOR THE MIGHTY SWORD, INGLORIOUS BASTARDS, John Frankenheimer's THE TRAIN).
Tag-lines: None!
Best one-liner: "The world keeps going around and around. So you always end up in the same place."

Along with Sergio Corbucci's THE GREAT SILENCE, KEOMA is probably the best of the non-Leone spaghetti westerns. Enzo G. Castellari's not a mere rip-off artist; he's a true disciple of Leone's films (and of Peckinpah's), and he brings many more elements to the table: like EL TOPO, this western is mystical, philosophical, and vaguely psychedelic; like Argento's contributions to ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST (and his best giallos), the myriad flashbacks have a hazy, magical quality to them that is distinctly Italian; and, unlike most second-tier spaghettis, KEOMA's characters talk about their feelings (!) and the film possesses real emotional stakes.

I shit you not; the line being spoken right here is "You never gave us the affection you gave to him... And we were your real sons!"

In the midst of all of this is a barechested, grimy, hairy, and grizzled Franco Nero- his intense blue eyes and severe demeanor anchoring the film's disparate elements.


I hear a lot of complaining about the De Angelis soundtrack, but it has a purpose- it's a primal ballad, full of vocal shrieks and screeches that may not always be pleasing to the ear, but they certainly go a long way toward forming the bleak, savage atmosphere. Castellari's visual sense is at its peak in this film:

we're entreated to the POV of a target as it's shot at- large holes of light tearing themselves out of the screen;

the POV of Keoma's hand as he counts off the bad guys he's about to gun down;

and majestic slow motion as men are shot, punched, and thrown by the hair, their bodies plummeting into mud-entrenched puddles and engulfed by wisps of dust and sand.

There's a few classic Castellari moments, like the line "Ya overgrown papoose!" and more odd Italian references and depictions of gratuitous pissing (see also: TROLL 2, MONSTER DOG, etc.), but for the most part, this is a very serious film.


Classic obligatory Italian pissing scene. The man pictured above literally begins pissing on command onto Woody Strode's boots.


And check out this guy! (Joshua Sinclair.) Smug assholes abound in Castellari flicks.


But toss in the stern pathos of Woody Strode (pictured above), the complex family dynamics between biological and adopted sons, and a genuine thoughtfulness throughout (which is so rare in a film of this type), and KEOMA is truly a classic. Viva Castellari!

-Sean Gill