Episode #227: Danger Waterworld

Welcome to another action packed episode of the GGtMC!!!

This week the Gents are joined by James and Red Waffle Paul from across the pond for an in-depth discussion of Waterworld (1995) directed by Kevin Reynolds and Danger: Diabolik (1968) directed by mario Bava!!! trust me we get deep into these two films and have a blast talking cinema!!!

Direct download: Danger_Waterworld.mp3

Emails to midnitecinema@gmail.com

Voicemails to 206-666-5207

Adios!!!

Episode #215: Miami Dogs Connection

Welcome to our Christmas episode for 2012 and we have an action packed sleazefest in store for you this holiday!!!

This week the good folks at diabolikdvd.com have sponsored our show and Large William has selected Miami Connection (1987) directed by Y. K. Kim and Richard Park and Rabid Dogs AKA Kidnapped (1974) directed by the legendary Mario Bava, a film that was shelved for 23 years!!!

We hope you and yours have a great holiday season, much love from the GGtMC to all of you!!!

Direct download: Miami_Dogs_Connection.mp3

Emails to midnitecinema@gmail.com

Voicemails to 206-666-5207

Adios!!!

Danger: Diabolik (1967)

Fetish fashion has been around for centuries (probably about as long as there's been clothing). However, it didn't become more accepted by mainstream culture before the 1960s (at least, not to my knowledge). Up until then, it was considered almost exclusively the province of homosexuals, "perverts," and "weirdos." Personally, I think its acceptance came about through music. Rock n' Roll was big and getting bigger, and the youth culture of the time (as it always does) wanted to distance itself more and more from their parents and authority figures. Leather pants became fashion shorthand for identifying rockers. So, of course, the leather catsuit wasn't far behind. Most notably worn by Diana Rigg on "The Avengers," the catsuit was the uniform for a cadre of superspies, supercriminals, and superheroes. And, then, funny enough, fetish gear fell back out of fashion and back into the realm of the socially unacceptable. But not before Diabolik rocked the shit out of it.

Danger: Diabolik opens (as it must) with a heist. The police, led by Inspector Ginko (Michel Piccoli), attempt to stay one step ahead of the titular thief. Trying to keep millions of dollars of Treasury money safe, they send an armored car loaded with fake bills out along with a car holding the real cash and several policemen in disguise. Needless to say, Diabolik (John Phillip Law) outwits Johnny Law (note: not an actual character) and makes away with the loot to his high tech hideout and sexbomb moll, Eva Kant (Marisa Mell). After the police interfere with the narcotics operations of mafia kingpin, Valmont (Adolfo Celi), the gangster decides to collude with the authorities (sort of) and get rid of the leatherclad thorn in both their sides.

By all accounts, Diabolik is not a hero in any sense of the word. He is vain, avaricious, and petty. He is not above killing (and killing police, to boot) in the course of his work. Yet we, as the audience, root for him. He is an antihero, but not in the tradition of, say, Conan or Snake Plissken, who, while certainly criminals, will still (sort of) do the right thing in the end (though often under duress). No, Diabolik is a criminal antihero in the sense of Hannibal Lecter or Tony Montana. We don't approve socially of what he does, but we want to see him accomplish his goals. It is complete wish fulfillment on the audience's part to be an outlaw in this way, to have the power, the smarts, and the drive to not only be outside society but to thumb your nose at it. It is, in fact, one of the reasons fiction exists at all. 

And this is why Diabolik, as a character, is never developed. He does not exist outside his costume. Sure, he takes it off, but that's how he is defined. We never get a real name for him nor any background. He is a cipher intended for the viewer to project himself onto. This is also why Mario Bava and company (wisely, I think) don't spend much time with him as a person. Instead, the main narrative drive of the film is on the machinations of Valmont and Ginko to capture and/or kill our protagonist. Our involvement with Diabolik and Eva is primarily either when they're at leisure (notably making love on a rotating bed/bedroom covered in stolen money, equating money and sex) or pulling a job. Yes, at one point the argument can be made that Diabolik takes on a socialist/anarchist role, essentially accomplishing what Tyler Durden would attempt decades later. But he doesn't do it for the sake of the downtrodden or the lowly taxpayer. He does it because the authorities offer a huge reward for his arrest, and he needs for that to not happen (if he values his freedom). 

Like all good heist films (Rififi, Topkapi, several of Jean-Pierre Melville's films, and so on), the heists are what interest the viewer most, and they are the most detailed and exhilarating portions of the movie. From a movie of this sort (and especially after seeing his futuristic lair setup), one would expect Diabolik to whip out all sorts of cutting edge, high tech gadgets to pull off his crimes. Even so, his jobs are performed in a decidedly low tech fashion. He uses stealth (including what I call the "Storm Shadow" suit), agility, suction cups, cranes, boats, nothing really out of the ordinary or that we would associate with that era's view of next-step technology. In fact, aside from a large, highly-reflective metal sheet and the means he uses to steal and move a massive hunk of gold, all of the tools in Diabolik's toolbox are rather ordinary. Interestingly, it is Valmont and Ginko who have the high tech gear in the field, and yet with all their resources, they cannot catch this one man.

It's also of note to look at how Bava shot Danger: Diabolik. The first establishing shot of the film gives us an idea of the scope of the film, and he employs this symmetrical style of composition often throughout when showing the world outside Diabolik's hideout. Inside the hideout, the frame is allowed to be a bit off-center, the lair's style accentuated by shooting through natural apertures created by the architecture. Bava uses a wide angle lens at many points throughout, and the deep focus that it furnishes gives the film a three-dimensional feel. The most noticeable example of Bava's more traditional filmmaking style is in the club scene. Aside from a few quick zoom-ins and zoom-outs, the camera is kept level. When the clubbers pass a doobie (I'm not sure if the kids still call them that) down the line, Bava uses a blurred out fisheye lens and his signature brilliant color lighting. However, the motion of the joint from toker to toker is captured via a very smooth, controlled tracking shot. Can we assume from this that while the filmmakers wanted to be "down with the youth," they couldn't give in to other filmmakers' tendency at the time to go sloppy and incoherent in attempts at atmospherics and psychedelics? Whichever, the film looks great, and Bava does a fantastic job keeping things visually striking but also solidly grounded. 

Constant emphasis is placed on Law's captivating eyes, in costume or out (and interestingly, he covers them most times he's out in public). This accentuation is a callback to the comic book the film is based on (created by Angela and Luciana Giussani), where oftentimes Diabolik's eyes and the area around them are the only spots of white on a panel or page. Also, as has been commented on by many others, Bava composed frames within the film frame to simulate comic book panels, but there are more self-reflexive elements included as well. As Ginko is trying to determine how to catch Diabolik, Ginko looks at a map of the city before him. The streets become highlighted in red and animation creates an emphasized section of the city to focus on. Later, a prostitute is asked to describe Eva to a mob henchman using a high tech "identikit" sort of machine. Again, there is an animated sequence (reminiscent in many ways to Saul Bass's popular and influential design work of the time) that filters through facial features until a drawing of Ms. Kant emerges. Plus, direct address is employed not only by Terry-Thomas (in a small but memorable role as Minister of Finance) but by Diabolik in a wink directly to the audience. It's this sense of fun, adventure, and ultimately escapism, then, which makes the film not only one of my favorite Bava films but also one of my favorite comic book films. 

MVT: The design style of the film, while definitely of its time, is charming and oh-so-satisfying to immerse yourself in. This is in spite of the ironic, kitschy way most folks look at this type of thing. I love it.

Make Or Break: Without giving anything away, Diabolik comes up with an absolutely brilliant way of getting away with the emeralds he's just stolen. This is the most memorable bit in the movie and exquisitely summarizes why this is such a great film (but you probably already knew that).

Score: 8.25/10

**Like this review?  Share it with a friend.  Hate it?  Share it with an enemy.**

Caltiki – The Immortal Monster (1959)

Immortality is an odd concept for something so simply defined. Ask anyone what it means, they'll tell you, "to never die" or "to live forever" (actually, I'm paraphrasing here, but you get the idea). William De Morgan famously said, "I don't want to achieve immortality by being inducted into the Hall of Fame. I want to achieve immortality by not dying." Unfortunately, since no human being (unless we take into account myths and stories like those of the Wandering Jew or Connor MacLeod, and even then there are limitations) has ever physically achieved this goal, we (as human beings so often do) redefine the goal in order to make it achievable. Therefore, immortality becomes what we leave behind, our work, scions, essentially memories of when we were here. Only deities can physically be defined as being immortal, but even godhood is no safeguard against death (though they're usually resurrected after the "final curtain"). What's a poor blob to do, then?

While investigating Mayan ruins in central Mexico, two expedition members go missing. When one of them, Nieto (Arturo Dominici), turns up rambling about a mummy, the other members investigate. On the bottom of a cavern lake, they discover a virtual graveyard of skeletons as well as a shambling mass of a creature whose touch can strip the meat off a human in seconds and mummify living tissue. Destroying (most of) the monster with a gas truck explosion, expedition leader, John (John Merivale) takes a piece of the beast back to Mexico City to study. Turns out Caltiki is just waiting for the right time to make her presence known to the world, and the results are predicted to be cataclysmic.

Caltiki – The Immortal Monster (aka Caltiki -The Undying Monster, aka Caltiki – Il Mostro Immortale) is credited as being directed by veteran Italian director, Riccardo Freda. However, the rumor is that the director abdicated his position to the film's cinematographer and special effects person, Mario Bava. With that in mind, the film certainly has the feel of some of Bava's work. The gothic horror trappings that Bava would help popularize in the 1960s are in evidence. Skulls and skeletons populate the film's early sets like tinsel on a Christmas tree. Snakes slither about in menacing fog banks. Also, organ music warbles ominously on the score, augmenting the creepy, gothic feel. Further, there's an alarming level of gore effects in the film for the time. 

I'm sure I've mentioned this before, but the presentation of graphic violence in films like this has always had more verisimilitude than what would come in the next few years. From the wartime violence of All Quiet On The Western Front (1930) to the more exploitive violence of The Monster Of Piedras Blancas (1959), the shock of seeing the human body dismembered (or the after effects) resonates more in these older films due not so much to their violation of the cultural norms of the times but to their usage of stark back-and-white cinematography. In this film, we see Caltiki's victims stripped of their meat, just the wet, mostly-denuded bones left as warnings to any who get in the creature's path. The effects work here is actually fairly shocking and largely impressive. I'm unsure if any of these shots were trimmed from the American cut, but I would suspect so, and I was surprised what made it through did. Caltiki herself, while appearing to be just a wet pile of linty towels, makes an impressive threat. Her "skin" has an odd texture that is at once attractive and repellant, and she is in constant motion, so you're always watching to see where she will move next.

Another interesting aspect, and an asset to the film, is that it doesn't rely solely on the threat of Caltiki for tension. Instead, there is a heavy melodrama facet that plays out in a sub-plot. Max (Gérard Herter) has the hots for John's wife, Ellen (Didi Sullivan), but Ellen wants nothing to do with Max. Meanwhile, "half-breed", Linda (Daniela Rocca), clings to Max in an abusive relationship, and she betrays those who show her friendship in desperate attempts to gain Max's affections. To the filmmakers' credit, this ties into the main, monster movie plot, helps build tension going into the third act, and keeps the pace from dragging by providing an alternative to the creature story. Granted, it's heavily reminiscent of a soap opera, yet it works for the film, oddly enough. 

Speaking of pacing, there are points of the film's climax which feel contrived and actually inject a bit of anticlimax into the proceedings. I'm thinking specifically of two things (minor spoilers ahead). The first is when John is speeding home, and he gets arrested. It's glaringly inserted only to pad out the finale and made me groan a bit. The other is how John pulls off the rescue at the end. It just sort of happens. The filmmakers took all this time and trouble getting to this point, and then by skipping over any substantial detail, they rob the end of being fully satisfying. It's like getting a cheeseburger that has mustard on it (and you hate mustard, right?) when you were a kid, and instead of sending it back, your mom just wipes off the mustard and makes you eat it. That trace of mustard stays on the food (you know it does, it's not just in your head, dammit) and brings the whole experience down to about, oohhhh, seventy-five-percent.

It's funny to me how few movies there are about blob-like monsters (The Blob, Beware! The Blob, X – The Unknown, The Quatermass Xperiment [technically], and of course Caltiki - this is all off the top of my head, so please allow that this list is more than likely incomplete). Nonetheless, the creature is an enduring icon in the pantheon of horror movies. For such a simple creation (essentially a giant amoeba), it generates a wealth of terror that busloads of whacky serial killers can't. I think the reason is twofold. Number one, the creature has no discernible intelligence. It doesn't plot or discuss its intentions. Like in The Terminator,"It can't be bargained with or reasoned with." And this leads me to number two; a blob is like the shark in Jaws, "an eating machine," and if it lands on you, you're toast. You may be able to brush against a shark and make it out alive, but brushing against a blob dissolves you (or worse). It is the ultimate "Unknown" embodied in a mass of constantly rolling death. In the long run, Caltiki does its part to keep this menace alive, even, dare I say, immortal?

MVT: Bava takes it on this one. By all accounts, he wore multiple hats on the production equally well and managed to craft a small creature feature that deserves more recognition than it gets.

Make Or Break: As Nieto wanders around the ruins at the beginning, there are some great backlit shots that really add flavor to the scene. The fog-encased, shadow-covered figure and play of light set a tone that, while not strictly adhered to throughout, certainly gets things off on the right foot.

Score: 7.25/10

Episode #153: Black Sabbath Stakeout

Welcome back for another episode of the GGtMC!!!

This week we go over some Program for Japan choices from Shawn from Chicago, the Gents cover Black Sabbath (1963) directed by Mario Bava and Stakeout (1987) directed by John Badham. Interesting choices from our good friend Shawn....kick back and enjoy!!!

Direct download: Black_Sabbath_StakeoutRM.mp3

Emails to midnitecinema@gmail.com

Voicemails to 206-666-5207

Adios!!!