Raiders of the Lost Ark

I kept thinking, "They'll go blind being in the desert sun like that."

Last House on the Left

I've got this article that calls this Wes Craven-Sean Cunningham picture one of the most disturbing of all time. All time, people! Right up there with the Nekromantik. Sure, it's a sleazy one. One full of some implied rape scenes, a don't matter just don't bite it sequence gone wrong, and a chainsaw-slicing handgun suicide finale. But what we liked most of all about this was that you could totally write your entire cinema studies dissertation on shit like this! We're certain lots of folks already have. Welcome to the bleak end of the hippie era! Hello, Cambodian invasion. Hello, Watergate. Goodbye, unrealistic and naive ideals. And take those goddamn beads with you. The world belongs to the PTS-riddled degenerates now, fuckers. You've been warned.


This is the kind of flick Zombie wanted Devil's Rejects to be: sixty uncomprimising minutes of Manson family psychopaths humiliating nice girls who were just out for some harmless sex, drugs, and rock and roll followed by twenty vengeful minutes of a middle-aged mom and dad going ape-shit crazy on your mothertrucking ass. So great. Even Fat Ebert loves it!

Also features Martin Kove! And a ridiculously awesome Lightfoot-folky score!

The Last Detail

More Jack, more Towne, more...Quaid?!?! Yes, Randy "the Helper's just fine by itself" Quaid was really on fire during the early '70s: Oscar nods and Golden Globe nominations for two completely different flicks! Who knew?

For the first reel or so The Last Detail insisted on playing us this John Philip Souza marchin' band score, and that bleating, blaring drummer boy mess had us thinking a college bowl kickoff was around the corner. It drove us crazy and came real close to ruining the entire tone of this flick, but fortunately we held on 'cause right around the thirty or forty minute mark we got this great extended alcohol sequence, a sequence so great and true to life it renewed our faith in both Hal Ashby and humanity in general. Big Jack, Quaid, and that other guy in their hotel room, knee-deep in Olympias, bobbing and weaving as they tell stories that don't go anywhere and talk shit to one another. It's the kind of thing that really took us back. All the way to last week! Jack's character has to ruin the whole thing right at the end when he gets all mean and tries to fight a bro. That had us relatin' to stuff too, but not a good times kinda way. Oh well.

I'll be frank with ya and tell you guys that I enjoyed this more than Chinatown. A better movie? Of course not, but The Last Detail really came through right at the end when you realize all those scenes about Greyhound washroom brawls, hometown sidetrips, and chanting cults amounted to something greater than themselves. End credits roll and you understood everything you just watched. Good stuff. Not a true classic, but worth a view. Dig it!

Chinatown

Roman Polanski! Robert Evans! Jack Nicholson! Faye Dunaway!

Whoa, Robert Townsend?!?!

Oh no, wait a minute....Robert Towne. Okay...well....still good!

Too bad they squandered the talents of the uber-cool James Hong. Not even his best movie with "China" in the title.

Mean Streets

Marty's "for all intents and purposes" debut gets a CRAP. Waffle Factor=3 for acting talents of Harvey Keitel and Bobby DeNiro, who prove to have been swell actors even before they were stars.

Maybe we should've seen Scorsese's other noteworthy sorta debut instead. At least that one had Barbara Hershey.

And Bernie Casey!

Y'know we really should've just watched this. Better guitar solos!

The Last Picture Show

Listen:

This movie is fantastic. Stop what you're doing and put it at the top of your queue.

Great imagery, expertly executed diegetic sound, and uniformly great acting, much of it by actors you didn't think were that good in the first place. Big Pete Bogs is the real deal, and it's a crying shame that it took us so long to see this. I can't say enough good things about this movie other than it convinced us that much more that Imperial Cruisers sounded the death knell of the motion picture industry.

Also: Cybill Shepherd!

She's a good actress too.

The Making of Taxi Driver

Be sure and watch this when NetFlix delivers your copy. The darn thing's like an hour and a half long. Cinematographers and actors will tell you everything you read here, and then a little bit more.

If I played the guy that got my hand shot off you can bet I'd have that pic of me smoking with a knife jabbed thru my palm hanging right there in the living room. Sort of lame they interview Peter Boyle on the Raymond set. And why the hell is Albert Brooks in sunglasses? What a douche. Almost has me rethinking my position on Defending Your Life.

I just wanted to write another post. I don't plan write-ups for all the extras.

Taxi Driver

The other night at the weekly Heavy Duty/DivideByZero/Highland Cinema summit meeting I initiated a content and form discussion. I'm sure you're aware that it wasn't a landmark discussion, and it was more about content and form rather than content versus form. The whole thing came to mind earlier in the day when my current Chan Marshall enthusiasm started me thinking about artistic interpretation and appreciation. YouTube has this "Nude As the News" clip that I've watched a number of times this past week or two. You can check it if you want:


You don't have to watch the whole thing -- it's a 1996 Cat Power performance from a UK television program. I like it quite a bit as it illustrates the only consistently good thing about Chan (her voice) and also showcases her occasional talent for writing a good song.

Problem was, I didn't know what this tune was about. I wasn't paying attention to the lyrics at all. When I finally looked them up on the internets they didn't hit me in the gut like I'd hoped they would have. I started wondering whether or not that even mattered. From where should my appreciation derive? Is performance enough? I should probably get it, right? Am I doing this the wrong way?

Okay, so after we watched Taxi Driver I found myself (as usual) on the Crap/Not Crap Electrical forum where some guy wrote:

"First movie to ever make me feel like I was not crazy for feeling alienated and pissed off all the time. Top 5 all time.

NOT CRAP."

I first thought this was completely ridiculous. Travis Bickle should definitely make you feel like you're not crazy, but he sure as hell shouldn't make you feel that way because you identify with his alienation and hostility. He's clinically insane and dangerous. You angsty young men out there in the audience, your bodies full of piss and vinegar, your heads full of literate cynicism and hyperbolic disgust, you may think you are starting to relate to Travis thanks to his abject loneliness and inability with the fairer sex, but please for the love of God stop right there. He's a threat to society. He saved an eleventeen year old whore, but he was hellbent on killing a senator! For no reason. Well, no good reason. I hardly think misdirected sexual frustration is a valid motive for murder.

But then I realized that what's great about Taxi Driver is Marty's ability to subject us to a deplorable character while somehow keeping us from wallowing in said character's delusion and aggressively downward spiral. There's nothing noble or commendable about this guy and yet the movie is so expertly done that you sometimes catch yourself thinking of Travis as strange rather than as a candidate for Bellevue. There's certainly some whoa moments, but they are often understated and non-exploitive. I can't empathize with you if you honestly relate to DeNiro's character, but there's a certain level of frustration, anger, and fear present in this movie that you might find yourself thinking in a manner inconsistent with your rational mind. Taxi Driver is so good that it might make you think it's speaking for you even when the actual events taking place are entirely at odds with your moral compass. Bicks is an anti-hero in the true sense of the hyphenated term, but since the movie never stops being about him and his perceptions it doesn't necessarily debase or belittle him. Taxi Driver is uncomfortable, but I don't think it's pitiful or pathetic until you think about it later.

The point of all this was that my concern about whether or not I was misinterpreting "Nude As the News" seemed to go along with my reaction that the above Albini-fan had misread Scorsese. Upon closer inspection, I really don't think that either is a blatant case of a wrong interpretation. Sure, both could benefit from a more refined analysis, but what's most important about all of this, and what ultimately transpired from our NW Blogspot summit meeting, is that emotional response is the only thing that matters. All I knew was that voice, it made me cry. And that unnamed poster (who is most likely referring to a younger version of himself), all he knew was that Taxi Driver made him feel less alone in this cruel world in which we live. Both are entirely appropriate responses, and are furthermore ones that certainly aren't at odds with the artists' intents. So who cares? And why did I write so many paragraphs on it all? You should watch this movie. Even if you've already seen it 'cause it's really fucking good. Travis Bickle is lonely and pissed-off and alienated and you'll know that right off the bat. Hell, identify with it if you want. Chances are you're a smart cookie (you found to this page, after all!) and you'll get it soon if not now. So stop worrying. Hey, time for South Park. Later!

Congratulations! You have just read the first ever Highland Cinema "blog" post!