A Deal with the Devil

There is an sad irony to Richard Linklater's film Me and Orson Welles. It's a film set in 1937 when Welles' newly-minted Mercury Theatre mounted their first production, a modern adaptation of Shakespeare's Julius Caesar. Welles is played with uncanny realism by Christian McKay, who roars around the theatre oscillating equal parts berating bully and charming genius. McKay is a joy to watch. He captures so much of Welles – his mannerisms, voice and gestures, that it often felt as though I was watching the great man himself. It doesn't hurt that he's the spitting image of him either. Me and Orson Welles simply soars when Linklater concentrates his considerable directing talent on the man at the centre of the stage.

But unfortunately, the first word in the film's title also happens to be the focus of picture. “Me” is played the super-bland, dull-as-dishwater-pretty-boy and High School Musical star Zac Efron. Efron is a dead weight around the neck of what is otherwise a brilliant little picture. He has about as much depth as a puddle of piss, although it's not entirely his fault because the role is both badly conceived and woefully underwritten. The problem is, without Efron's star power, this picture likely wouldn't have got made, a testament to how utterly fucked Hollywood is these days.

Still, if you pick your smoke, pee and snack breaks carefully, this is a terrific film. My advice is every time Efron looks like he's about to say something.... leave the room. Most of his scenes, while plentiful, are mercifully short so you've got about 5 minutes to wander the house looking for something to do until McKay/Welles grace the screen again. If every the DVD chapter points needed to be synchronized on a performance, it's for Me and Orson Welles. I would have preferred a Zac-less 19 minute cut of the film as a menu choice, but they didn't offer one. It would have been called “...and Orson Welles” in my fantasy De-Me'd DVD version.

Given the choice between living at a time when Orson was celebrated as a hugely-talented star, but 5 years of hellish World War 2 lay just off the horizon -versus- living at a time when Zac Efron is considered to be his modern day equivalent.... sign me up to fight the godless Hun.

Sporgey

At Midnight I'll Take Your Soul (1964)

Where to even begin with this one?  Written, directed by and starring the inimitable Jose Mojica Marins, At Midnight I'll Take Your Soul is the film that kickstarted the Coffin Joe franchise.  And what a franchise it is:  roughly 15 films featuring Coffin Joe, with the majority of them played by Marins.  Earlier in the year I ordered the handsome PAL box set which contains eight Joe films plus a documentary entitled The Strange World of Jose Mojica Marins (the NTSC set, which contained three films, is long OOP, but we have them at the FBW).  How can you not love it?  Along with that, I picked up the most recent Joe film, Embodiment of Evil, sadly as-yet-unreleased in NA.  But enough about my acquisition fever, let's get on to the film itself.

AMITYS is such a strange trip.  The plot concerns a small town's sadistic gravedigger who is obsessed with finding a woman to bear his seed and continue his bloodline.  But the plot is neither here nor there - we get an evil witch, the walking dead, and a truly trippy vision of vengeful ghosts mixed with all kinds of supernatural strangeness.  Coffin Joe is the highlight, of course, and anyone who defies him is dealt with brutal, graphic violence.  There are a few scenes sprinkled throughout the film where Joe truly gets to lay bare his bleak world view - there is no life after death, there is no God, there is no Satan, there is only LIFE.  And in this one life, Joe has chosen to live it exactly as he desires, indulging in all earthly pleasures.  Wine, sex, violence, power; Joe swims in it all, fears no one or no thing, and laughs in the face of religious cowards.  Joe is a non-believer, or rather, a believer in the here and now, whatever he can experience through sensual means.  Quite simply, Joe is a hero for our times.

The sound mix on the film is incredibly muddy, although there are some near supernatural moments that sound like the actors are delivering their lines inside an echo chamber.  Spooky stuff.  The cinematography is lurid, but the black and white tones are starkly stunning.  This is crude filmmaking, in the very best sense of the word - raw, unrefined, pure.  Not much actually happens in the film - between the taverna, Joe's house, the graveyard, and the windswept woods that connects them all, locations and scenarios are limited, and we find ourselves watching a fairly repetitive film.  None of it matters though, because Joe is so deliriously over the top and fun to watch that you forget the film's shortcomings.

Marins conveys a singular vision that is in no way diluted as the series rolls along - something that can be said of very, very few horror franchises.  Coffin Joe may not be as recognizable a name in the horror canon as Jason or Freddy, but he has every right to be.  You'll have a hard time finding a more consistently sadistic, evil character in horror cinema.  I'd recommend any of the Coffin Joe films, but AMITYS holds a special place in my heart as it was introduction to the Coffin Joe and has left an indelible imprint on my mind.  All hail Jose Mojica Marins!

Sole Survivor (1983)

Not to be confused with the made for TV William Shatner vehicle, or some Kensington cobbler, this Sole Survivor is a subtle, eerie portrayal of guilt, depression and confusion, and the very real "horror" that those emotions suggest.

In keeping with the quiet, creeping dread of earlier films like Herk Harvey's Carnival of Souls or Willard Huyck and Gloria Katz' Messiah of Evil, Sole Survivor tells the story of Denise (Anita Skinner), the - wait for it - sole survivor of a horrible plane crash, of which we are shown the grisly aftermath during the film's opening scene.  The rest of the film plays out very much in Final Destination mode (albeit with much less gratuitousness and spectacle), with death sending his minions to collect what should have been rightfully his.

Helmed in a workmanlike fashion (but with a strange, austere artistry) by Thom Eberhardt (Night of the Comet), Sole Survivor is one of those forgotten jewels of the VHS era, only recently exhumed by Code Red.  And for that, we can all be grateful, as what we have here is a compelling film that is better off in your DVD player than in a Blockbuster delete bin.

As Denise, Skinner is an incredibly sympathetic character, tough and fragile at the same time, trying so very hard to keep a smile on her face and her head held high, but we get the sense that somewhere just beneath the surface, cracks have formed and are beginning to take hold.  What makes the outcome of the film all the more shocking and brilliant is that following her crash, she has found love, and things are beginning to look up.  Oh dear, she couldn't be more wrong.

Skinner authors a very complex character in what could have been a much less touching role.  Her nuanced performance makes the film and elevates it from a forgotten also-ran to a rediscovered gem.  Making this all the more remarkable (and - if you'll play along with me - a touch creepy) is the fact that this is one of only two of Skinner's film credits.  She had a role in the 1978 film Girlfriends, then poof, right off the map.  A cursory internet search turned up nothing else as to what she did next, or her current whereabouts.

Sole Survivor offers up an icy, crawling horror that comes from the slow realization that the impossibly terrifying is not only possible, but probable, and that more often than not, there are no happy endings.  I watched the film three days ago and it's stuck with me in the way the best horror does - it doesn't seek to shock, but to disturb, to burrow its way into your unconscious and lie there for a spell, reminding you every once in awhile that everything is not as peachy as it seems.  Highly recommended.

Dagon (2001)

One of the few good things about being suddenly, unexpectedly (temporarily, I hope) crippled is that I've had a chance to catch up on my film viewing.  I've had Stuart Gordon's Dagon more or less near the top of my "to watch" pile for over a year now, and with yesterday's torrential rain and general gloominess, I figured it was time.

Gordon again turns to Lovecraft as his inspiration for this tale (actually a conflation of two Lovecraft stories, "Dagon" and "The Shadow Over Innsmouth"), in which a young couple is stranded in a small Spanish fishing village after a boating accident, though it soon becomes very apparent that all is not bueno in this seemingly sleepy town.  When Barbara (the fetching Raquel Merono) goes missing soon after their arrival, Paul (Ezra Godden) tries to track her down only to be overcome by a horde of garish fishmen.  Or rather men who are slowly transforming into piscine form, including all that transformation might entail (hobbled walking, garbled speech, and grotesque physical mutation).  After a chance run in with Ezequiel (Francisco Rabal), Paul learns the terrible secret of the town, one in which the denizens relinquished their faith in God when fish stocks ran low and turned to an older, more powerful deity, Dagon, who blessed the town with untold oceanic bounty and gold and treasure, but left them cursed with their current plight, the offspring of all his untold trysts with human women being the current crop of fishmen.

First, the good: Gordon succeeds in creating a oppressive and chilly atmosphere where rain and darkness are the norm, and twisty, cobbled streets mirror Paul's own confusion.  The makeup effects are stellar, and the briny disciples of Dagon look as alien as they do human, and embody both of these aspects in their speech and actions as well.  The largely Spanish cast do excellent work as the lurching, slimy humanoids from the deep, minds filled with a singular, murderous intent.  And the small Spanish village of Combarro that was the location of the shoot provides a delightfully damp and depressive tone.  Looks like a nice place to visit, though you'd probably want to stay away during the rainy season.

There are some terrific practical effects, the most notable the scene in which Ezequiel is strung up and has his facial skin stripped from his body.  Again, Gordon looked to the locals for makeup duties, and they come through in spades.  Tentacular appendages and probing probosci simultaneously repulse and delight.

And now, the bad:  I know I must sound like a broken record by this point, but the CGI employed in the film is worse than awful.  Mega Shark vs Giant Octopus provided a better sense of reality than some of the VFX in Dagon.  I think this is an unfortunate side-effect of the year in which the film was made.  2001 had filmmakers excited about the possibility of CGI, even though the technology wasn't quite there to back up the boundless visions of some of the brighter directors.  The technology was in a dangerous nascent phase that allowed directors to employ it without it being fully developed, to the overall detriment of their final vision.  Granted, it would probably have been prohibitively pricey for Gordon and crew to build a massive model of the enormous mer-god Dagon, but he could very easily have taken the route John Carpenter did in In the Mouth of Madness, his Lovecraftian puppet-beasties sprang from the screen and seemed much more menacing than some green-screened squid.  Or even do what he had done earlier in the film and suggest (a la Val Lewton) the kraken-king through creative camera angle and actor responses.  The poorly done CGI is all the more glaring when juxtaposed with the expertly done practical effects, and the whole thing becomes jarring and takes you out of the film.  Regardless, barring the visual let down of the climax and a couple other ill-advised effects throughout, Gordon does a credible job overall capturing the mood of the Lovecraft original.

The casting of Godden as Paul also strikes me as a strange choice - I mean his type is right, but the actor himself can't seem to decide whether to play the role as camp or straight-up, and his wavering between the two leaves the performance wooden.  There isn't a great chemistry (read: none at all) between he and Merono's Barbara, either.  Really the only good thing about his wholly unlikeable persona was his Miskatonic sweatshirt, a sly wink by Gordon at observant Lovecraft fans.

Overall, Dagon is worth a look, for sure, but falls somewhat shy of the best cinematic Lovecraft adaptations.  If you're looking for a Lovecraft-on-film primer, seek out the superior gallows humour of Re-Animator and the ultra-weird, candy-coloured From Beyond (both by Gordon as well), or even older fare such as The Shuttered Room.  I'm not generally an advocate of remakes, but I'd love to see someone (even Gordon himself) take another stab at the Dagon story, either with the complete use of practical effects or prudent use of updated CGI technology.  Let's hope Guillermo del Toro heeds these guidelines when bringing the epic At The Mountains of Madness to the screen in 2013.  Huge fingers crossed on that one, though del Toro has yet to disappoint.

Asylum (1972)

Another day, another anthology.  This time it's the intriguing Amicus joint Asylum starring basically every British actor ever.  No?  Okay, how 'bout this: Peter Cushing, Barry Morse, Herbert Lom, Britt Ekland (oh man), Patrick Magee, Charlotte Rampling (oh MAN!), and a bunch of other people you've probably never heard of but would recognize if you've watched anything from Amicus/Hammer from the '60s/'70s or essentially anything on the BBC from that time.

The setup for this one is a doozy - Dr. Martin (Robert Powell) sets off from London to take a new job at an asylum for the incurably insane, although the doctor who greets him (Magee) is not the doctor who summoned him there in the first place.  No, Magee's Dr. Rutherford informs Martin that Dr. Byron has himself gone mad and is now confined upstairs with the other patients.  And if Martin can figure out which of the patients is Dr. Byron, Rutherford will consider him fit for the position.  And off we go...

Rutherford is greeted by the orderly, from whom he tries to extract clues as to the personage of Byron, but the orderly knows better - the game is afoot!  From there, we are taken into each of the four patients' rooms, each with a different story of how they came to be there in the first place.  And for once, the framing narrative is actually just as, if not more, compelling than the individual stories themselves.  Not to say that they are inferior to other Amicus anthologies, but they do at times seem to drag.

The first story (Frozen Fear) concerns Bonnie (Barbara Perkins), who was conspiring with adulterer Walter (Richard Todd) to bump off his voodoo-obsessed wife Ruth (Sylvia Syms) so they could go on the make together.  Well, as one would expect from this EC-styled segment, Ruth bites it, and is hacked to pieces by Walter.  However, the body parts (presumably aided by some sort of voodoo powers) arise and destroy not only the unfaithful husband, but also gets to Bonnie, who, in an attempt to save herself, hatchets away at her face to remove the disembodied hand clinging to it.  And we're brought back to the asylum, where Bonnie shows off her scars, rather delightedly, to Martin.  Is this Byron?  Martin is unsure, which takes us to the next patient...

Behind door number two, we find Bruno (Morse), who at first gaze appears to be fashioning the emperor's new clothes, complete with invisible needle and thread.  What has caused this madness?  We find out, in The Weird Tailor.  Bruno is an old-school tailor who is behind on the rent, and his displeased landlord gives him until the end of the week to come up with the cash or find new digs.  Bruno is at a loss: how to get the money?  Ah, but lo and behold a very distinguished and somewhat mysterious gentleman enters the shop as if to answer Bruno's prayers.  Mr. Smith (Cushing) commissions a suit made of a strange glowing fabric (Hypercolour FTW!), with very strict specifications that the suit only be worked on between the hours of midnight and 5 am.  And the handsome sum of 200 pounds is promised to Bruno upon the suit's completion, more than the tailor needs to settle his rent.  All week Bruno toils in the dead hours of the night and finally completes the suit.  Upon delivery to Smith, he discovers that dark purpose for the suit that involves raising the dead.  He also discovers that Smith has no money to pay him.  Anyway, things turn out real crazy and a mannequin in the tailor's shop on which the suit is placed ends up coming to life and nearly destroys Bruno.  At least it destroys his mind.  Martin is still unconvinced that he has met Byron, and asks to see the next patient, the ravishing...

Barbara (Rampling).  Barbara is the first to seem sane, at first.  Then comes her story (Lucy Comes To Stay), which is weakest of the bunch, but makes up for it by featuring both her loveliness and the swingin' sexpot styles of Britt Ekland (naked Wicker Man wall-hump, anyone? Start at 1:15).  This one isn't really worth recounting, but it involves a scheming older brother trying to get his hands on Barbara's inheritance by proving she's either insane, addicted to pills, or both.  At the end of the segment, I didn't really care, I just wanted more Rampling/Ekland action.  I think the producers knew that this story was the weakest of the four, and compensated by upping the pulchritude power.  Martin is getting antsy at this point, thinking he's being strung along by Rutherford, and asks to see the final patient, in what is the shortest and most gonzo of the tales...

Which brings us to Dr. Byron's (Lom) room, for the segment Mannikins of Horror.  Byron seems sane enough, but soon reveals he's out of his gourd by showing off his collection of miniature robots with very lifelike human faces.  Each of these, he informs Martin, represents a different real life person, and is exact inside down to the very last detail.  His latest creation is a tiny robot in his own likeness, which will soon be given life through "the power of concentration"(?).  Thank you, says Martin, I've seen enough.  He and the orderly make their way out of the ward, and Martin returns to Rutherford.  Martin exclaims that he will not choose and does not appreciate being subjected to the whimsical games of the doctor.  While they argue, we see cuts to Byron's room, where he lies in darkness, eyes focused on his little doppelganger, concentrating life into the little guy.  Well, goddamn, it works!  Through a series of improbable (given the robot's lack of great mobility) events, the robot enters Rutherford's office and stabs the doc in the back of the neck with a scalpel!  This segment is just so bizarre it needs to be seen.

Directed by the venerable Roy Ward Baker (who helmed countless Hammer and Amicus films, and who sadly passed away just a week ago, aged 93), and written by Robert Bloch (Psycho), Asylum is a fun little romp.  The actors all pull off their roles with great aplomb, and while some of the stories are weaker than others, the whole thing is kept interesting by the overarching narrative.  Which, it must be said, is fairly easy to figure out (I guessed correctly at the conclusion five minutes into the film).  If you're a fan of anthology horror, mysteries, Charlotte Rampling and/or Britt Ekland, check it out.  I'm not going to say it's a "must see" because, frankly it's not; however, you won't feel like you've wasted your time when it's all said and done.  Don't rabidly track it down, but if you see a lonely copy gathering dust at your local independent video store, give it a whirl.  You won't be disappointed.

I'm Beginning to Look a Lot Like Halloween

You opened it.  We came.

Adribyn!....Adribyn!

So it seems the General of our Eastern Army decided to do a little face-skiing during maneuvers on the weekend, but is OK and recovering. His tongue apparently slips out of his mouth because there are no teeth to keep it in place and he whistles when he talks now, but otherwise he looks pretty much like he did last Halloween.... which isn't great.

We all hope you're feeling better soon.

Sporgey.  

Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World (2010)

Let me be frank, Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World is one of my favourite films of the year.

Directed by Edgar Wright (Shaun of the Dead/Hot Fuzz/Spaced) and based on comic books by Toronto local artist/writer Bryan Lee O'malley, SPVTW is a dizzying adventure that's visually stunning, gut-busting funny, and full of heart. It's a Hollywood caliber film shot entirely in Toronto where for once, Toronto is actually suppose to be Toronto. The film opens to a narrator saying "Not so long ago, in a faraway land called Toronto, Ontario, Canada." Funny enough I find this to be the most Torontonian film I've ever seen even though it's not made by a Canadian.

The Scott Pilgrim story is generally a simple one. An early twenty something Toronto slacker falls in love with a super cool New York girl. There's only one thing standing between him and his sweetheart; a league of 7 evil exes. In order to claim the love of his young life he must defeat these 7 evil exes in battle. See? Simple.

The Scott Pilgrim books are riddled with video game references (mostly from 80's Nintendo era) which explains the formulaic plot. However, the books are also heavily rooted in the Toronto independent music scene as Scott himself plays bass in a local rock band called Sex Bob-omb (see! A Super Mario reference).

Luckily for fans of the books and the uninitiated alike, Edgar Wright took immense care with the original stories infusing the best parts of the comics with his penchant for over the top genre nodding film-making.
An average evil ex battle in the film will play out like watching two skilled players play Street Fighter 2 at a place like A&C Games, yet at the same time no two evil ex battles are alike which only adds to the ingenuity of the film.
As for the music, lovers of the comic book can rejoice. Although hilarious lyrics were written out on the page one always had to imagine a tune, but not anymore. Wright commissioned no one other than Beck to write the tunes for the fictional band. I feared the music could really hurt the film if it wasn't up to par, however Beck has written some of the most bad ass garage rock tunes heard for sometime on this side of Lake Eerie.
So, the original comic is great and the director of the adaptation is more than competent enough, now how does the film stand up on its own?

Well, for one it's one of the sweetest films I've seen in years. Between salivating for the next jaw dropping battle, Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World features a surprisingly emotional story on youthful love. Obviously the metaphor of a league of evil exes is for how one's past can make you feel inadequate in a relationship and what you must do to overcome those doubts. Scott's journey isn't one for his love, Ramona Flowers, but instead for Scott. He has to realize he isn't fighting these evil exes for her but rather for himself. It's not a fight for love at all actually, it's a fight for self respect.
Within that story is sprinkled all those dramatic relationship scenarios that plagued many of us throughout high school and beyond. Scott starts dating Ramona without first breaking up with his current girlfriend (a sin I'm ashamed to say I've committed once or twice). Scott's friend starts dating his ex which leads to some awkward moments. One of Scott's best friends is a girl he dated in high school that holds a grudge against him for past transgressions. etc, etc, etc.
Basically it plays like my high school relationship resume, complete with immaturity and lack of self respect. The sweeter moments like Scott and Ramona walking in the snow and sitting on swings in what looks like a high park area playground are immensely dreamy and nostalgic. Not to mention they feel like they were ripped directly from my life.

The pacing of the film is fast and furious, always having another battle to look forward to keeps the film moving briskly. Although truth be told as the fights started to dwindle I found myself saying "please don't end."

The cast is just marvelous. An absolute gem of an ensemble with Michael Cera really shinning as Scott Pilgrim. Alison Pill (Milk) as disgruntled drummer Kim Pine of Sex Bob-omb is a highlight as well as Kieran Culkin doing a fabulous turn as Scott's gay roommate Wallace Wells delivering some of the films best laughs.
As for the evil exes every performance is a real treat. My personal favourite being Chris Evans' Lucas Lee. An ex pro skater turned action movie star extraordinaire who lets his stunt doubles do the fighting for him (the character is loosely based on Jason Lee). A close second would be the head of the league Gideon Graves who is played to slimy perfection by Jason Schwartzman. Another ex worth mentioning is Roxy Richter played by Mae Whitman who also played Michael Cera's girlfriend Ann in Arrested Development. Obviously, this connection is intentional and for fans of AD you'll get a hoot out of watching George Michael and Ann battle it out.

The soundtrack, mostly written by Beck, is the first movie soundtrack I've purchased in years. It plays like a terrific rock record with tunes from Canadian and international talents. It perfectly depicts the atmosphere of the film, especially during the more dramatic scenes. However, every rock performance by Sex Bob-omb is also fantastic.

Sorry to bring Roger Ebert into this again, but I watched a shitload of At The Movies growing up. I recall his review for 2001's Ghost World, (which was also based on an independent comic book) where he gave the film full marks starting off by saying "some times you watch a film and feel like it was intentionally made for you. That's how I feel with Zwigoff's Ghost World...". I enjoyed Ghost World but in no means did i find it stellar and I think that's the deal with Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World.
I personally feel the film was made for me. Not only scenes and scenarios ripped right from my life but every reference to video games, tv, film, music etc. were nods to things I love. While the locations the characters frequent around the city are places I at one time or another hung around a lot, say like Lee's Palace or the Pizza Pizza located at Bathurst and Bloor. A surprise cameo by my favourite male actor of all time, Tom Jane, only proved the point further.

"I Just want my kids back"

While certainly not a film for everyone; the "hip" kids will scoff at this one for getting the Toronto art scene completely wrong and over exposing Toronto to the International stage. Others will find the film alienating, either because the references will go over their heads or the the film over exposes Toronto's "hipster" scene which they find despicable.

Granted, I went into the film expecting to grind my teeth at the portrayal of all these cool pretty young Toronto musicians and artists but instead I felt welcomed like a friend.

Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World didn't do so well in theaters in North America. It did however do well here and is still playing in first run cinemas, a rare thing these days after two months of release.
Universal Studios didn't sweat what many people wanted to call a box office bomb, you know why?

Japan.

That's right, Universal made their money back in the Japanese market where it's a rousing success.

The DVD and Blu-Ray hits our shelves November 9th. I highly recommend picking up a copy and getting lost in this most "epic of epicness".

Run Away!

I know I'll be exposing myself to endless ridicule here but District 13: Ultimatum is the best action film I've seen this year. Period.

Yes, it's corny. Yes, it's silly. Yes, it's outlandish and goofy. No, it's not a great piece of art..... I'll grant you all those things right up front, but what I will say is this; D13U is a nearly perfect antidote to the things Hollywood action filmmakers have been getting wrong for the past decade. It has a decidedly French flavour and even sports a little politics on its sleeve... when the action slows down enough to care. The bad corporation at the heart of movie is named Harriburton...so, as you can see, subtlety isn't a strong suit here. There's a Le Pen bad guy that runs a shadow government agency named DISS with aims to clear some D13 territory for new development. There's a decent man in the President's chair, but he's surrounded by a nest of vipers. The good guys are blanc and the bad guys are noir and ….none of that really matters.

As most will know, D13U is the sequel to District 13, the 2004 Luc Besson written-and-produced French film that introduced parkour to international audiences. Parkour, the free-running “art of flight” technique that has people leaping through the air from rooftop to rooftop and rolling out to minimize broken ankles and crushed vertebrae, made an unmistakable mark on films like Casino Royale and The Bourne Ultimatum, qualifying it as one of the decade's most influential action movies. I also love the fact that it's basically the martial art of running away. Now that's my kind of fighting style....   

I'll skip trying to make any sense of the sequel's plot because it mostly doesn't. Bad guys want to nuke a walled ghetto on the outskirts of Paris. Good guys align to stop them. That's really all you need to know going in... or coming out for that matter. What is fascinating, however, is just bloody cool the overall vibe of the movie is. The score is a terrific collision of French, Arab and African hip hop that dovetails nicely with the immigrant gangs ...Gypsy, Asian, Arab, Skinhead and African...that run things in District 13. French Supercop Damian Tomaso (Cyril Raffaelli) teams up again with buddy and D13 denizen Leïto (parkour progenitor David Belle) to convince the gang leaders to join forces to stop the capitalist pigs.... and nothing gets the old Gaelic blood flowing quite like an old-fashioned neo-con cookup.

D13U is two parts Escape from New York, one part Ong Bak, ten parts D13 (after all, it is a sequel) with a sprinkle of Le Haine for political good measure.. When it's firing on all cylinders, it's a bad-ass action film that doesn't take itself too seriously. The camera work and editing is that annoying sped-up/slowed-down style from the action-films-for-dummies school of cinematography, but it somehow works here. It helps that the film runs at just over 100 minutes... although truth be told, it could easily have been cut to 90 minutes (or 30 minutes for that matter). There are enough cliches floating around to make a dozen movies and it's a bit of a shame that Besson and director Patrick Allessandrin couldn't find more important roles for the excellent non-Caucasian actors that pepper this movie. Any number of these supporting players could have been written bigger parts and the fact that they're relegated to margins, blunts the film's aspirations to inclusiveness. Minor quibbles though, because I thoroughly enjoyed it.

On a final note, D13U's R-rating seems a little inappropriate given the fact that it's essentially an anti-gun movie. Leïto and Tomaso glide, jump and bounce around the ghetto mostly relying on their wits and sheer physical prowess to move around freely in the lock-down police state of D13. Notwithstanding the many ass-kickings on display here, the use of a gun represents distinctly unsportsmanlike conduct and signals weakness or evil intentions, a welcome respite from the dreary and endless gun battles at the centre of most PG-rated Hollywood action flicks these days.

Winner.... and I now love French hip hop, especially Alonzo. He can really bust a groove.

Sparkourgy.

Dark Night of the Scarecrow (1981)

As made for TV movies go, 1981s Dark Night of the Scarecrow is as good as it gets.  Previously available only on a long OOP VHS, VCI recently released a stunning looking DVD of this horror/revenge minor classic.

Starring the venerable Charles Durning and Larry Drake (Darkman, L.A. Law, Dr. Giggles), Dark Night of the Scarecrow is a slowburn, quiet creeper, less gratuitousness and more skin-crawling tingles.

Bubba (Drake) is the village idiot, and after a girl is attacked, postmaster Otis (Durning) and his cronies make a rash decision to take vigilante justice on the presumed guilty Bubba, and after a tense hunt, they find Bubba hiding in the fields as a scarecrow.  Helpless on the cross, Bubba is gunned down in cold blood by the rage-blinded men.  Soon after, they discover that Bubba had actually saved the girl's life, and their decision to take a man's life was in vain.  However, because of a grudge held toward Bubba, this action doesn't seem to weigh too heavily on any of the men's souls...until they start getting picked off by an unseen force, one by one.

The cast is better than it has any right to be, but Durning is especially sterling as his usual mealy-mouthed, greasy, conniving self.  Drake is wonderfully sympathetic in a sort of Frankenstein's monster role.

The pacing of the film is terrific, and the sense of vindication in the viewer grows alongside the fear felt by the perpetrators of the heinous crime.  There aren't any "cheap scares", and every fear that the antagonists hold is played out in agonizingly long detail.  The last five minutes are truly something to behold, filled with a creeping dread that is so regrettably absent from most modern "horror".  With thumbs up from Vincent Price, Ray Bradbury, Stuart Gordon, and me, Dark Night of the Scarecrow is a much appreciated resurrected gem that can be appreciated by the dyed-in-the-wool genre fan as well as Scott.  Watch it.  I'm gonna wear my Fright Rags DNOTS t-shirt (funnily enough, now itself OOP) tomorrow.