White Water Summer (1987)

My attraction to outdoor adventure films is in the scenery. The story plays second fiddle to the cinematography for me. Sure, I need a good story to anchor the film, lest I get bored halfway through, but I’m coming for the scenery. I take to it as a cinematic vacation, where I can be one with nature from the comfort of civilian life. It’s a cheat for sure, but I can’t always be out in the wilderness. Film acts as a welcome avatar.

Mind you, I’m not much of a camper. I enjoy going on hikes, but I’d prefer not to stay in a tent afterward, acting as a human burrito for wildlife. Add in years of growing up in fear of both a bear attack and/or a crazed serial killer on the loose and you’ve got a hesitation toward the camping lifestyle (think of the Jim Gaffigan camping bit and you’ve got my similar feelings). And yet, I’m fascinated by films dealing with camping and the wildlife. It’s so picturesque and comforting even in the face of danger!

I grew up similar to the protagonist in “White Water Summer,” Alan (Sean Astin). I was an introvert who would’ve been much happier spending my summer indoors than out (though I enjoyed the safety of my neighborhood once I moved out of the dangerous city). My parents tried to convince me to try camping and becoming a boy scout, but were never pushy when they noticed my hesitation. Alan’s parents, his father specifically, are the opposite: seeing the chance to spend a few weeks camping as a lesson in survival and growth. They’ve enlisted the aid of Vic (Kevin Bacon), a skilled survivalist, to take him into the wilderness and become one with nature.

The first half of the film is as expected. Vic is the polar opposite of Alan, a lover of the outdoors. The two share similarities, such as in their intelligence, but utilize their traits differently. Alan catches fish by crafting a makeshift trap out of supplies and natural resources; Vic does it the old-fashioned way, by hand, and scoffs at Alan for cheating. He punishes the poor boy on numerous occasions, forcing him to stay behind until a task is finished. He challenges his natural instincts such as in abandoning him to travel a rickety bridge over a hundred feet above water and sharp rocks and leaving him dangling atop a mountain. We can understand Vic’s reasoning, to teach the young teenager to survive, but also challenge his responsibility. Is it really sane for a man to leave a child hanging for his life (literally)? Think of the lawsuit and jail time he were to face had the children in his care were to perish?

Director Jeff Bleckner plays with that throughout, especially in the second half. He struggles in adapting the screenplay, written by Manya Starr & Ernest Kinoy, resulting in Vic’s abrasiveness coming across as sociopathic. There’s one instance where he nearly shoves a camper over the edge of a mountain after a verbal dispute. Considering the film’s overall pleasant tone, and the generally happy ending, this comes off as a conflict of interest. One I found somewhat amusing seeing as how the atmosphere was reminiscent of a campground slasher at times, made more palatable by the inclusion of “Friday the 13th” alum Kevin Bacon. I
didn’t expect it to nearly come to fruition in the final act.

It’s not that the sudden change in tone is a kneejerk reaction. Bleckner builds to it well, hinting at Vic’s questionable tactics. He’s never made out to be the bad guy, just a man with a firm belief in building a person up by challenging their senses. It’s no different than when someone tosses their child into the deep end to teach them how to swim. He’s always presiding over them, even when visibly absent, to ensure their safety if need be. The issue is in when it’s cranked up too much to service the drama, where we must suspend disbelief that the guide would allow his campers to catch pneumonia in a harrowing storm with no tent or, even worse, a wildlife attack.

Does Vic prove his point? Certainly, even if Alan’s cheesy narration (filmed two years later to give credence to his reminiscing) dilutes it. It’s just done so in such a heavy-handed way, with a fatal accident changing the course of direction, that it can cause friction. The connective tissue is there, as is the message, so it’s not a lost cause; just a shaky one, as rickety as the bridge Alan must cross.

I came for the scenery and “White Water Summer” didn’t disappoint in that front. The cinematography by the legendary John Alcott (one of his final films) is gorgeous and atmospheric! Starr & Kinoy’s script infuses the cinematography with a solid pillar. Bleckner keeps all of this in check with his direction, imbuing the film with the right amount of comradery, growth, and danger. It may be too heavy-handed at times, but it’s a pleasant trip nonetheless.

MVT: John Alcott’s cinematography. Sure, it’s the reason I was drawn to the film, but that’s not why it’s my MVT. That’d be because it lent much-needed atmosphere to the proceedings. The wilderness and, more importantly, camerawork, are just as much of a character as the campers are.

Make or Break: The rickety bridge sequence. It breaks up the soothing tone of the film, which at this point came packaged with numerous soft montages. It sets the stage for the forthcoming drama without going too over the top like some of the later predicaments.

Final Score: 7/10

Deadbeat at Dawn (1988)

Jim Van Bebber subverts expectations with “Deadbeat at Dawn.” It’s ultimately a revenge fable, but it isn’t structured like a common one. It looks as if it’s going to go down the beaten path at the outset, but turns a corner into a dark alleyway. The entire film feels like it takes place in a dark alleyway, basked in the seedy underbelly of a rundown neighborhood. This is an unpleasant film, albeit a well-made one.

Goose (Jim Van Bebber) is looking to leave his gang, the Ravens, in favor of a life of solitude with his squeeze, Christy (Megan Murphy). His cohorts don’t take kindly to this, breaking into his home and brutally murdering Christy. Goose believes the murder was at the hands of their rival gang, the Spiders. Naturally, he seeks vengeance.
Except “Deadbeat at Dawn” isn’t a natural revenge flick. It moves to the beat of its own drum with the rhythm coming across as chaotic and out of tune. You slowly realize this is the point. Bebber isn’t concerned with telling a generic revenge story. He’s more concerned with examining how a lowlife thug copes with loss. Not just loss of his girlfriend, but loss of his life. Without the love of his life or his gang, Goose is directionless. He has nothing left to lose and, as we all know, there’s nothing more dangerous than a man with nothing left to lose.

Goose is a sad sack for the majority of the film, moping around aimlessly for the first half (and understandably so). He has no intentions of hunting down the Spiders, feeling more comfortable wasting away his existence in bars or in his father’s broken home. He goes to the latter first seeking comfort, but gets none from his abusive alcoholic of a father. He’s more concerned over his son replacing his beer and helping him get his fix than comforting him.

The father scenario is a tricky one. On paper, it’s reasonable; necessary even. It exists to show how Goose fell into the wrong crowd, a broken home damaging him emotionally. His father’s PTSD from serving in Vietnam parallels the war Goose engages in on the streets constantly. It even highlights Goose’s desire for compassion, hoping to bond with his father despite knowing that won’t happen. The problem is Bebber directs the father angle too comically. The father’s attitude is too over-the-top, resulting in unintentional laughter at points. Any time the drama and tension from the scenario begins to surface, it’s sunk by the overbearing performance.

This is a problem that plagues “Deadbeat at Dawn,” though it’s thankfully not consistent. While the film is always manic, as are the performances, most of it is complementary to the tone. The gang members can get away with being over the top, as that matches the lunacy of their carnage. Their outlandishness is reigned in via their heinous actions. It’s hard to laugh at them when they’re viciously beating people with bats or mowing enemies down with guns.
Bebber revels in the sleaze and grime. While this can be off-putting for some, it’s not sleazy for the sake of being sleazy. It’s representative of the world created, a languid cesspool riddled with crime and despair. The gangs exist because they have to out of survival. None of the denizens in the rundown neighborhood are given a chance to escape by society. Their Hell is a creation of segregation.

The only reason Goose is able to live out his revenge fantasy is by circumstance. He’s forced back into the gang, no longer the leader but the errand boy. He’s tasked with aiding in a theft, the kind all thugs dream of: the big one that can secure them for life. It’s through this theft that Goose is able to exact his revenge, slowly piecing the puzzle to his girlfriend’s murder along the way. He really only obtains his vengeance out of defense, snapping and turning his hand against his own gang as well as their rivals. And man, is it something! Goose becomes a badass, a one man gang who eliminates his enemies with nunchucks, guns, beheadings, and even ripping a man’s throat out!

“Deadbeat at Dawn” is no doubt a vile film. It’s one that goes too over the top at times, but never loses focus. It’s structured awkwardly, but that’s purposeful. The awkward structure matches the awkward nature of Goose’s life. It’s a disgusting life, resulting in a disgusting film. It’s not always easy to stomach, but it’s satisfying in its execution.

MVT: Jim Van Bebber. He has a tight grasp on the film and the world he created. He has a concise vision, even if the structure says otherwise. The repulsiveness of it all could have easily become too overbearing, but he does a fine job of anchoring it.

Make or Break: Strangely enough, it’s the father scenario. While that may be one of the weakest scenes due to the comical performance, it doesn’t break the film. It represents the path the film is going down, what Bebber is most interested in, and does a lot to develop the character of Goose. The scene works in spite of the comical performance, making the film as opposed to breaking it.

Final Score: 7/10

Unholy Rollers (1972)

Sometimes it’s fun to watch movies (especially older, low budget genre movies) when you’re really tired.  I’m talking barely keeping your eyes open, oncoming coma-nap tired.  You may wonder why that would be a state you’d want to be in, since sleeping through a film is antithetical to the whole movie-going experience (and in fact, a great many experiences, believe it or not).  The answer lies in the narrow space between consciousness and unconsciousness.  As your lids grow heavy, and the snap of the film’s soundtrack crackles from your television like a siren song, your mind enters a sort of waking dream state, and you feel as if you’re watching the movie from your childhood perspective (at least, that’s the way it works for me).  This feeling recalls the lazy Saturday afternoons watching creature double features and martial arts marathons.  It is, in my opinion, the closest I will ever come to actual time travel, and the beauty part is, it’s time travel back to the good times in my life (not to say I’ve lived a miserable life, but I prefer the ups to the downs, don’t you?).  It’s like a drug that gives you a few minutes of the purest nostalgia, and it never feels false.  Granted, it doesn’t happen all the time, and sometimes when you watch a film while exhausted all you do is pass out, but when the pieces all fall into place, it’s a marvelous sensation made all the more valuable by its transience.  I’ve heard tell that some people like to do the same thing while having sex (under the influence of certain chemicals, since if anything should keep you awake, I’d think it would be a right, good rogering), and while I haven’t undertaken that specific adventure, I can definitely understand its appeal.

Karen (the late, great Claudia Jennings) works in a cat food factory and loves watching her favorite roller derby team, The Avengers (just not at the same time).  After walking out on her job, however, she needs some new employment, so she decides to try out for (and obviously manages to get on) her beloved squad.  Karen’s personality clashes with everyone around her, and as her star ascends, her life declines.

I think it is interesting to note that Vernon Zimmerman’s Unholy Rollers lists a certain Martin Scorsese as Supervising Editor (something I’m sure most reviews of this film emphasize, and I’m clearly no different).  Naturally, Scorsese (to my knowledge) had no hand in the screenwriting process or the actual production of the film, but on some level he would have to have contributed to forming the film during the post-production process (how much, I couldn’t say, so let’s just accept that what I’m saying here is possibly tenuous or even a conceivable flight of fancy).  With this in mind, the film is loose in structure, nonlinear.  There is a narrative at play, but it doesn’t move from A to B to C.  Elements are dropped into the film and then forgotten, and then maybe later on they’ll be reintroduced, and maybe they won’t.  This is the same sort of approach to structure that can be observed in films like Mean Streets, Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, and even The Wolf of Wall Street.  Since 1972 was the same year Scorsese directed Boxcar Bertha for Roger Corman and American International Pictures, I think it would be fair to say that there’s an argument to be made about the connections between this film’s approach to its story and that director (though any detailed discussion should likely be reserved for a more thoroughly researched, in-depth investigation than we’ll take here).

It’s this nonlinear style that I would suggest elevates Unholy Rollers slightly above this type of genre fare being produced at this point in history.  The film takes chances, and it doesn’t fill in all the blanks for the audience, who then have to either make connections for themselves or accept (or dismiss) what they’re seeing at face value.  One of the key moments exemplifying this is when Karen visits her mother (played by the legendary Kathleen Freeman).  We know instantly that their relationship is rocky at best, and that Karen is at a point where she is desperate for someone to reach out to (Karen’s mother doesn’t even smile upon seeing her daughter, and would rather wrap her lips around a cigarette than kiss her overeager child).  The scene takes a turn when (childhood?) friend Duane (Dennis Redfield) shows up to say hello.  One of his arms is crippled, but we’re given no indication of how this happened (In Vietnam?  In a car accident?  Was Karen involved?).  Karen’s mood suddenly changes, and she makes excuses to leave, now realizing that you can’t go home again, literally and figuratively.  This is the first and the last time that either of these supporting characters are seen or spoken of at all in the film, but I believe they are participants in the most important moments in it.  Not all of the film’s scenes have the impact of this one, but what they do is produce a cumulative effect in delineating Karen’s character and charting the arc of her story (which we can read as the arc of her life), and it does it quite well.

Outside of very rough notions, I have little-to-no direct knowledge of the sport of roller derby.  I know (or deduced from a throwaway line of dialogue about the game not being this exciting for thirty-five years) that it has been around since the late Thirties/early Forties, that it involves people skating in a circle, and that one of them scores points while the others throw elbows (massive generalizations, I know).  In that way, I used to think of it kind of as NASCAR without the vehicles (and indoors).  Color me surprised when Unholy Rollers describes the game as being as flamboyantly spectacle-driven as pro wrestling (something I loved for a few years in my youth).  Team managers (coaches?) Horace McKay (John Mitchell) and Angie Striker (Maxine Gates) trot around the infield, gesticulating and yelling, dressed in eye-searing outfits (think: “Classy” Freddie Blassie).  Horace regularly enjoys getting the boot in on the opposing players, either personally or through Demons’ (the “bad” team he leads) henchman/mascot Masked Marvin, who bounces around in tights, a cape, and (obviously) a mask.  Angie would give Edith Massey a run for her money (perhaps not in the realm of “egg lovin’,” but, y’know…), brandishing a large bullwhip at all times.  The players are trained to “sell” hits to the audience (both sitting in the bleachers and watching on television).  

But intriguingly, some of the assumedly manufactured animosity makes its way off the track and interweaves itself into the characters’ personal lives.  You could argue that the reason Karen finds herself the target of a lot of this is because she is a staunch non-conformist (best displayed by the tattoo she gets and flaunts as her symbol; the idea of a woman with a tattoo being something out of which much is made, which only goes to show just how much times have changed), and the entire metaphor of the film is about the rejection of conformity, no matter the cost (a sort of “die on your feet” analogy).  Conversely, you could say that the film champions the idea of conformity, and that Karen’s asshole-ish attitude (this is, after all, a person who fires a gun at random targets  while riding down the street on the back of a motorcycle) is what undoes her (a bit more nefarious, but no less legitimate, I think).  Either way, I think that this film endeavors to be deeper than its surface elements, and, by and large, it succeeds.

MVT:  I was going to give it to the film’s structure and approach to storytelling, because I do think it’s ambitious, but I think I have to give it instead to Jennings (once again).  She truly does a marvelous job carrying the weight of the film, and reminds me that her star burnt bright for far too short a time.

Make or Break:  The first derby scene is extremely well-done.  Combining overlapping dialogue, solid handheld camerawork, and subjective camerawork, the sequence delivers on both the experience of watching a match as well as the experience of being in one.

Score:  6.75/10      

Episode #327: Welcome Home Monty

Welcome back for another episode of the show that give you the most for your free download!!!

This week Large William is joined by CDR from the Cult of Muscle podcast for coverage of Welcome Home, Soldier Boys (1971) directed by Richard Compton and Flexing with Monty (2010) directed by John Albo!!!

Direct download: ggtmc_327.mp3 

 

Emails to midnitecinema@gmail.com

Adios!!!

The King of Marvin Gardens (1972)

 

During the 2014-2015 NFL season, the Green Bay Packers defeated the New England Patriots by a score of 26-21 at Lambeau Field. Prior to the game, Large William and I agreed upon an interesting wrinkle: if my Patriots won, he’d be required to watch and review a movie of my choosing for the Midnite Ride (e.g. Jamaa Fanaka’s STREET WARS), whereas if the Packers won, I’d cover 1972’s THE KING OF MARVIN GARDENS for the GGtMC blog. This particular gentlemen’s bet was a win-win proposition. It’s long overdue, but here’s my end of the deal.

The antiquated architecture standing in the Atlantic City occupied by this film’s characters was long gone when I walked off the boardwalk and onto the frigid sand nearly 40 years later to spread a departed family member’s ashes. Despite this difference in mise en scène, I can tell you with certainty that Atlantic City in the winter months is every bit as bleak and biting as it is in Bob Rafelson’s 1972 film, THE KING OF MARVIN GARDENS. While the characters find that it’s a terrible time and place to hatch a real-estate scheme or get hired as an auctioneer, it proves more than adequate for bonfires and horsey rides.

During a broadcast into the wee hours, talk-radio personality David Staebler (Jack Nicholson) is urgently summoned to Atlantic City by his older brother, Jason (Bruce Dern). Without any further context, David leaves Philadelphia and arrives at the train station, only to be collected by his brother’s cheeky companion, Sally (Ellen Burstyn) and a clumsy welcoming band of drums and brass players. Trombone Shorty, they ain’t.

When the brothers first reunite, they do so with jail bars between them; jailed for reasons unknown, Jason is optimistic he’ll get out by sundown if David can track down a guy named Lewis. That doesn’t quite materialize, but Jason is cruising around the boardwalk on a motorized caddy in what seems like only hours later. He reveals a plan to secure real estate for a gambling enterprise on an obscure South Pacific island, and he wants David as a partner. Along for the venture as something of a support team are Sally and Jessica (Julia Anne Robinson), a pretty young thing as naive as she is fun-loving. Both women occupy points in an uneasy love triangle with Jason.

As the plan develops, it unravels at nearly the same rate. Certain events reveal Jason’s pattern (neurosis?) of overselling. (Case in point: Jason may not be able to afford the room in a historic hotel he’d convinced Sally he owned). David can barely contain his unease about the scheme and it seems that simply being near his brother puts him on edge. Sally is losing both confidence and trust in Jason, and shifts an envious eye towards Jessica. Failure doesn’t adequately describe the worst possible outcome for this motley crew.

Despite their shared genetics, the differences between the Staebler brothers couldn't be more stark. David is an introverted storyteller leading a dull life in a Philadelphia apartment he shares with their grandfather. Jason is a charismatic con artist and feverish dreamweaver with lofty aspirations. At a dinner following his release from jail, Jason sucks down brightly colored cocktails while rapping about stolen cars full of Swiss watches as David nurses a glass of milk. Rafelson leaves no stone unturned -- be it visual, narrative, or in characterization -- in illustrating this contrast, yet his efforts never feel try-hard, nor do moments feel unearned. 

Lensed by legendary cinematographer Laszlo Kovacs, the film has a bounty of well-composed scenes with tight framing and offbeat arrangements. One of my favorites features Dern and Nicholson facing each other on horseback on the beach, with the animals barely stirring. Why? No idea. Many of the exterior shots on and around the boardwalk have an overcast, dreary look that reflect a decaying environment, but there are timely and purposeful tweaks to the palette -- a daytime bonfire scene which acts as a liberating cleanse for one character might be the brightest among them.

The film is book-ended by a pair of David’s on-air monologues which border on confessionals. I won’t spoil the content or moods of either, but the first one trails off with David describing he and his brother as “accomplices” before a phone call to his booth engineer abruptly interrupts the conclusion -- the same call that prompts his trip to Atlantic City. Towards the end of the film, David delivers an equally engrossing monologue that transitions into a scene where the brothers’ grandfather projects an 8mm home movie on the apartment’s wall showing the two young boys building a sand castle at the beach -- in other words, a temporary structure assumed to be knocked down or washed away. In lesser hands, this closing visual may have come off as clumsy or sickly sweet, but I found it dovetailed nicely with the film’s themes of lofty ambitions and a fleeting (but persistent) want for paradise.

MVT: This is a character-driven film and as such, how you evaluate it depends a lot on how convinced you are by the on-screen relationships. Both Dern and Nicholson put forth measured performances of two complex characters existing in a state of vascillating stress due to their  oppositional quirks. Burstyn is amazing as Jason’s aging, slighted lover. The charismatic performances are great and the chemistry is even better, but the underlying dynamic between the brothers is the most valuable thing in the film. I have a younger brother myself, and I found this element relatable. Fortunately, it's much more dysfuntional than how he and I relate to each other.

Make or Break: There are plenty of scenes featuring crackling dialogue. There are other moments that reveal nuanced and meaningful characterizations and the dynamics among the players (both individual relationships and as a group). There’s dazzling imagery throughout. The scene in the abandoned convention hall where our foursome puts on a mock Miss America paegent combines all of these elements and was a big make for me. David stiffly narrates as the paegent host, Jason screams encouragement from atop a stack of cargo boxes, Jessica plays the wide-eyed starlet, and Sally is off to the side playing the world’s largest pipe organ (allegedly).

Score: 7.75 / 10

Episode #289: The Letter Runner

Welcome back for another episode of the GGtMC!!!

This week the Gents cover Letter Never Sent (1959) directed by Mikhail Kalatozov and The Indian Runner (1991) directed by Sean Penn!!! 

Direct download: ggtmc_289.mp3

Emails to midnitecinema@gmail.com

Adios!!!

Episode #284: Meet Him and Swim

Welcome to our diabolikdvd.com sponsored episode this week!!!

We are joined for this episode by Scott from Married with Clickers podcast for coverage of The Swimmer (1968) directed by Frank Perry and Meet Him and Die (1976) directed by Franco Prosperi!!! We wnat to thank Scott for coming on with us, a true Gent!!!

Direct download: ggtmc_284.mp3

Emails to midnitecinema@gmail.com

Adios!!!

Episode #283: That's the Way on Terminal Island

Welocme to another episode of the GGtMC!!!

This week we cover Terminal Island (1973) directed by Stephanie Rothman and selected by good friend of the show Andy (Sammy couldnt make this review, he was detained sadly). We also cover That's the Way of the World (1975) directed by Sig Shore and chosen by Shaun (Sammy did make this one, just barely).

Direct download: ggtmc_283.mp3 

 

Emails to midnitecinema@gmail.com

Adios!!!

Episode #281: Miami Romance

Welcome back to another episode of the GGtMC!!!

This week we have two selections from two great friends of the show!!! First up Wendi from Double Page Spread podcast chose Romance (1999) directed by Catherine Breillat and then Kelly chose Miami Vice (2006) directed by Michael Mann!!!

We want to thank them both for the choices and the support!!!

Direct download: ggtmc_281.mp3

Emails to midnitecinema@gmail.com

Adios!!!

Episode #278: Three Colors Blue

Welcome to a special episode of the GGtMC!!!

This week we are doing a Pod Crawl with good friends The GobbledyGeek Podcast (gobbledygeekpodcast.com) and The Debatable Podcast (debatablepod.libsyn.com) and each show is covering one film in Krzysztof Kieslowski's Three Colors Trilogy!!!

The Gents selected to kick things off with coverage of Blue (1993) starring Juliette Binoche.

Please take the time to go over to indiegogo.com/projects/final-score-dvd-release and help us get Arizal's Final Score starring Chris Mitchum out on DVD through the community of the GGtMC!!!! Every little bit helps gang!!!

Direct download: ggtmc_278.mp3

Emails to midnitecinema@gmail.com

Adios!!!

Episode #275: Nightbeast and Lolly

Welcome to another glorious episode of the GGtMC!!!

This week we have another round of Kickstarter shows and we have brought Demise in for her pick Nightbeast (1982) directed by Dan Dohler and we also cover Shiftless Jeff's pick Lolly Madonna XXX (1973) directed by Richard C. Sarafian with a cast that is amazing to say the very least...

Direct download: ggtmc_276.mp3 

 

Emails to midnitecinema@gmail.com

Voicemails to 206-666-5207

Adios!!!

Instant Action: The Grey (2011)

Wolves are pretty awesome, even in this movie, they're still pretty awesome!

Screenplay By: Joe Carnahan & Ian Mackenzie Jeffers
Directed By: Joe Carnahan

Is The Grey an action film? That's the question I found myself asking, until I realized I shouldn't be asking that question. Of course The Grey is an action film, action is peppered throughout the film. The reason I initially felt like disallowing The Grey as an action film solely resides in the dramatic content of the film. The Grey isn't an action film first, it's a drama first. The action in The Grey exists to support the soul searching of Ottway, and his intrepid companions. The wolves are a source of internal horror made external, and while they do provide the action that's the not their true purpose. Yes, The Grey is an action film, but it has other aims and it doesn't shy away from putting the focus on its non-action aspects.

There isn't a plot comes to a conclusion sort of ending to The Grey. For some this will be disconcerting, a point of consternation even. For me, such an ending is refreshing and the ambiguity of the film left a delightfully tingly feeling in my brain. I like when movies challenge, when they ask me to look beyond the obvious and peer underneath the surface. Near the middle of The Grey I began to form theories about what the actual film was saying and why it was saying it. In the end a theory put forth by my wife is what swayed me the most. I followed this theory to its natural conclusion and that's when the film, and its ending really came alive in my mind.

The action, or horror depending on how you look at it, gives life to the demons plaguing Ottway. The story isn't about a group of men trying to survive, rather it's about one man attempting to come to grips with his inner demons. The wolves are an external threat, but they are representative of his internal fears and regrets. The characters we spend time with represent the various ways that Ottway has dealt with adversity throughout the years. The Grey ends up being a film of stages, or rather a film about stages. Essentially we are following the various stages of Ottway's life and his dealings with grief. Of course, that's not to say that what we are seeing isn't happening, it's up to the viewer to decide what reality is, what a demon is, what is struggle, and what the point ultimately is in The Grey.

A key scene for me in the film comes early on, when one of the surviving characters is dying. Ottway, Liam Neeson, tells this man that he is going to die. Joe Carnahan avoids theatrics, and keeps things small and intimate. We see the shocked faces of the other characters, and we get a shot of Ottway gently placing his hand on the dying man. Ottway talks the man through his final moments, and what is left is the raw vulnerability of humanity. The rest of the film is fundamentally about dealing with this scene. The ramifications of facing your own mortality up close and trying to overcome the domestic and foreign ills that haunt us.

I'm not super familiar with the work of Mr. Carnahan. In fact, The Grey is the first and only film I've seen from Mr. Carnahan. I'm not sure if the rest of his work is as deeply poetic and tender as The Grey. It doesn't really need to be though, because The Grey exists and is fully comfortable in the tender clothes Mr. Carnahan shrouds it in. The Grey is an action film, with sequences that are thrilling, suspenseful, violent, and well-choreographed. It's also a drama, a tender tale of the fragility of life and the efforts humanity will go to in avoiding owning up to their own fragile mortality. The Grey is a well-made film, an action movie with a soul, and a deep rumination on the nature of the human spirit.

Rating:

9/10

Cheers,
Bill Thompson

Instant Action: Hummingbird (Redemption, 2013)

I'm not sure that this film understands what it means to be a good man...

Screenplay By: Steven Knight
Directed By: Steven Knight

Continuing my desire to use this column to seek out the work of action stars this week I bring you Jason Statham. I've rarely seen Mr. Statham outside of a Guy Ritchie film, and that appears to have been a mistake on my part. I really did not like Mr. Statham in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, or Snatch.. While I enjoyed In the Name of the King: A Dungeon Siege Tale that wasn't due to it, or Mr. Statham, being great in the traditional sense. Hummingbird offers a different take on Mr. Statham, at least a different take from his work with Guy Ritchie. In Hummingbird Mr. Statham is a presence, he owns the screen. Charm isn't the right word, it somewhat applies, but not completely. There's just something about Mr. Statham that the camera loves. The best explanation I can come up with is that the way he carries himself intoxicates the camera. Mr. Statham exerts himself upon the film, his presence overrides the film in ways that it really shouldn't. That's presence, and that's something Mr. Statham has in spades in Hummingbird.

Hummingbird excels visually, and in its action scenes. The visuals are, well, gorgeous, but not too gorgeous. Cinematographer Chris Menges makes terrific use of the claustrophobic nature of the British underworld. Everyone knows everyone and the camera placement of Mr. Menges accentuates how close together the citizens of London's underworld live. There's a grimy feel to the work of Mr. Menges, for all the visual flare he provides Hummingbird with he allows the film to have a more lived in texture. The director, Steven Knight, focuses on the hands of his characters a lot, further adding to the textured feel of the film. This plays out even more in the action scenes where the fighting dynamic is one of brutal violence that seeks to end the fight quick. The action in Hummingbird isn't that of the dance, rather it's that of the car hitting the wall. Fancy moves are replaced by strikes intended to maim and end the fight in the swiftest fashion. So much action is based on the beauty of the dance that is fight choreography, and in that respect the quick and efficient action of Hummingbird felt very different.

Where I have trouble with Hummingbird is in the theme of the film. The story is fine enough, a simple sort of man against internal/external demons sort of fable. The script delivered by Mr. Knight is looking for something more than that simple tale though. That's where I think the film trips up, because I'm not sure Mr. Knight really knows what he wants his film to say. At times it feels like Hummingbird is going for a Robin Hood correlation. Then it will seem as if the film is acknowledging the fact that the protagonist is no better than the people he is fighting against. But, then the film will play up the actions of Joey, Mr. Statham, as those of a man of principle who deserves the respect of the viewer. It felt as if Mr. Knight could never come to grips with the Joey character and instead of a focused character he left one on the screen who is quite muddled. This, of course, leads to a muddled main theme. Th drive of said theme is never able to gain inertia because the dueling nature of the Joey character often works against the thematic drive of the film.

Mr, Knight's film makes for a very interesting watch. The film is confused about what it wants to be, at least that's the case in terms of its theme. Hummingbird works just fine as an action film, but the added drama muddies the water of the films intentions. I'm not convinced that's entirely a bad thing though, because the lack of focus displayed by the film is one of the films most interesting aspects. Jason Statham has become a big action star, and after Hummingbird I can see why. The film takes full advantage of the package that is Jason Statham, and that's one of the reasons why Hummingbird is an interesting film worth checking out.

Rating:

7/10

Cheers,
Bill Thompson

Episode #248: Blood Close Up

Welcome to another episode of the GGtMC!!!

This week Large William, Koop and Tanny bring you coverage of Close Up (1990) directed by Abbas Kiarostami and Blood Diner (1987) directed by Jackie Kong!!! We want to thank Koop and Tanny for stepping in to help Large William while Sammy is away working on his tan lines!!!

Direct download: ggtmc_248.mp3

Emails to midnitecinema@gmail.com

Voicemails to 206-666-5207

Adios!!!