The Quiet Man (1952)

Tagline: Action...Excitement...Romance...Fill the Screen!

Curiosity: Irishmen engage in the longest fight scene committed to film (at the time).

Plot: Having retired from boxing after accidentally killing an opponent in the ring, wealthy Irish-American Sean Thornton (John Wayne) returns to his homeland in search of solace. He almost gets it when he marries the beautiful Mary Kate Danaher (Maureen O’Hara), until her brother Will (Victor McLaglen) refuses to pay her dowry. Determined to never fight again, Sean loses Mary Kate’s respect, throwing their sexy, sexy Irish marriage into jeopardy.

Will Will stop being such a dick? Will Sean kick his ass and/or get laid? Are any of these characters sober?

Thoughts: For St. Patrick’s Day, my fiancé and I decided to down some Smithwick’s and watch The Quiet Man. And eat pizza. Because pizza is awesome. The Quiet Man is awesome too.

I have some reservations about celebrating it for this blog, since the movie actually won two Oscars, but c’mon. Anyone who’s seen The Quiet Man will tell you that part of its charm comes from it being about barely functioning alcoholics with anger issues. Barely any of these characters have jobs. They just drink and argue six days a week (On the seventh day they go to mass). Shit, Wayne and O’Hara barely belong together – Mary Kate is batshit insane, freaking out with little provocation, while Sean tends to kick the crap out of her a lot, culminating in him dragging her five miles on foot. This is like a drunken Irish version of Taming of the Shrew. It does quiet her down, though.

Of course, it helps that John Ford was such a brilliant director. He and cinematographers Winton C. Hoch and Archie Stout won awards for their cinematography, and deservedly so. The Quiet Man explodes with bright colors, from the costumes to the sets to Maureen O’Hara’s gorgeous red hair. Watching O’Hara and Wayne court along Irish farmland is some of the most beautiful footage I’ve ever seen.

The Quiet Man is love letter to Ireland. Its characters are eccentric and inebriated, but dang it if they aren’t appealing too.

Reflection: John Wayne dragged Maureen O’Hara through sheep shit. Now that’s realism.

Ong Bak 3 (2011)

Tagline: Do that thing where you knee people in the face.

Curiosity: It’s the thrilling conclusion to the mighty Ong Bak 2.

Plot: Ong Bak 3 picks up where 2 left off, with Tien (Tony Jaa) getting carted off by Lord Rajasena’s (Sarunyu Wongkrajang) men. Rajasena has his bones broken and is about to Tien put to death when he escapes. While Tien heals, Rajasena has strange dreams about an usurper to the throne, eventually made manifest by an even badder bad guy named Demon Crow (Dan Chupong). DC kills just about everybody he comes in contact with. Meanwhile, Tien studies dance and grows a beard.

Thoughts: Considering the sequels have next to nothing to do with the original, Ong Bak would’ve been a questionable trilogy anyway. But at least the first two installments were solid throughout. 3 mucks up the plot considerably, to the point the film drags despite running only 95 minutes.

But here’s the thing: 3 gets a lot of stuff right. It shows Tien’s evolution as a fighter while wrapping up his personal growth from 2. It also slips in some Buddhist philosophy. Those scenes are slow too, but in a good way that should appeal to martial arts fans. But when those bits get mixed in muddled storytelling, the film falters. 3 introduces fantasy elements via the magical Demon Crow, but he jars with the film’s previous set tone of realism and attracts some lackluster special effects. The fight scenes are great; the CGI is not.

I have to believe that some elements were lost in translation, but the plot points of 3 comes off as uneven. Characters’ deaths are often underlit and barely remarked on. For a while, I forgot that I love Tony Jaa.

But the movie is nicely bookended by nice action sequences, and the final 20 minutes are just amazing. Though slightly tainted by bad CGI, 3 delivers some of Jaa’s most intricate stuntwork yet, with a whole slew of humans and elephants fighting all at once. It’s also some of Jaa’s most brutal choreography yet. While it’s a little disappointing coming after 2’s surprising emotional depth, Ong Bak 3 should still satisfy many a Jaa fan until the inevitable Ong Bak 4.

Reflection: I’m getting old. I had to break this movie up into three installments because I kept falling asleep around midnight.

Trapped (2002)

Tagline: It was the perfect crime… until she refused to be the perfect victim.

Curiosity: Charlize Theron and Courtney Love are the top two billed stars.

Plot: The Jennings family is ridiculously cute. Will (Stuart Townsend) is a jet pilot AND a doctor! Karen (Theron) is wicked hot and appears in magazines and stuff! Abby (Dakota Fanning) is cute and precocious just like every Dakota Fanning role ever! Yep, things are pretty spiffy for the Jenningseseseseses.

Then Joe Hickey (Kevin Bacon) roles up with a gun, kidnaps Abby, and tells Karen tough shit. To her face! If Karen and Will are going to get Abby back, they’ll have to follow Joe’s 24-hour schedule… and pay up $250,0000! And let Joe diddle Karen private bits at some point!

Courtney Love rolls up at some point and looks pretty beat up.

Thoughts: Tonight my fiancé and I decided to watch a movie together. This is sometimes a difficult task on account of our divergent tastes. She wanted to watch Love and Other Drugs because it had acting. I wanted to watch Unstoppable because it had Denzel Washington and Chris Pine fighting a train. We saw The Illusionist last night. I’ve gotten my share of culture for the week.

Ah, but then we spied Trapped. We both like Charlie Theron. We both tolerate Courtney Love. And the thought of Theron beating the snot out of Kevin Bacon in the final quarter sounded promising. Not so.

Trapped consistently piles on scenarios to drag out its running time, with the kidnappers constantly bungling the job. The film reminds us constantly that they’ve ransomed four other kids prior to Abby, but offers little proof in terms of capability. Bacon and Love’s characters fail to properly research the family they’re attacking. Karen keeps coming up with ways to stop them (including holding Kevin Bacon’s wiener hostage!), only to smack her down so as to pad the film. A late period revelation about Joe similarly extends the story longer than it needs to go.

Speaking of padding the film, Townsend’s character is kind of superfluous. Theron does all the legwork. But he does get locked in a room with Love. Now that’s the real crime.

Reflection: This movie taught me that you can hide a scalpel in your butt.

Death Bed: The Bed That Eats (1977-ish)

Tagline: Lost horror film of the seventies.

Curiosity: Patton Oswalt had a great bit about this previously unreleased ’70s cult horror film on Werewolves and Lollipops.

Plot: So, there’s this Death Bed. It eats. It’ll eat anything – apples, fried chicken, PEOPLE. This is because the bed is possessed by an evil force thanks to demon blood. And people keep sleeping in this bed and getting eaten. Just constant death bedding for about a century. We know this thanks to narration provided by a British guy whose soul became trapped in a painting after he was eaten by the Death Bed.

Thoughts: Death Bed isn’t as bad as its reputation would suggest. That doesn’t necessarily make it good, but it displays fleeting moments on genius that defy its low budget, amateur roots. Here’s where the film gets things right: Director/writer George Barry actually thought about how a Death Bed would eat people. The result is like a venus flytrap; the Death Bed captures people and then dissolves them with acidic ooze.

Here’s where he gets it wrong: Just about everything else is terrible and hammy. The dissolvent makes sense; having the Death Bed make chewing sounds is stupid. Sure, it’s campy, but it also doesn’t make any sense, darn it. Also nonsensical: No one reacts when bad things happen to other people. Oh sure, people scream when they get eaten by the Death Bed. But when a character’s hands get dissolved when he tries stabbing the mattress monster, his sister doesn’t react at all. His hands are nothing but bones and she doesn’t say shit. What a jerk.

There is one lengthy scene where Barry perfectly captures the thrills and chills of horror movies, though. One female character almost escapes the Death Bed, and there’s a lengthy sequence where she attempts dragging her bloody, broken body out of the room. I’m sure Barry made the scene so long so he could eat up the running time (Even with all the padding and lengthy narration, Death Bed is still only 80 minutes long), but there’s something simultaneously titillating and uncomfortable about watching this character crawl, futilely, across the floor and up a set of stairs before ultimately being claimed by the Death Bed. Horror offers a degree voyeurism, and this scene puts the viewer right there.

But then, Death Bed also has funny/bad special effects and relies on narration to overexplain important plot points only to jam in an elaborate, unearned ending. Movies shouldn’t have this tough of a time showing instead of telling, but Barry seems to actively loathe writing dialogue when a British narrator will do.

Reflection: Glad I saw it. I’m sorry I paid for it.

Harry and the Hendersons (1987)

Tagline: According to science, Bigfoot doesn’t exist.

Curiosity: John Lithgow and Sasquatch battle crime!

Plot: Avid hunter George Henderson (Lithgow) and his family “accidentally” hit a strange creature on their way home from a camping trip. Upon discovering that it’s none other than the legendary Bigfoot (Kevin Peter Hall), George decides to bring the corpse home with him FOR SCIENCE.

Later that day, however, the corpse, now dubbed Harry, returns for revenge upon Seattle. A French… maybe French-Canadian hunter (David Suchet) stalks Bigfoot, much to George’s chagrin. Having learned that hunting is bad, George begins shouting a pro-vegetarian message to anyone who will listen.

Thoughts: Released in 1987, Harry and the Hendersons might be one of the most influential films on my childhood. At 25, I realize that this might be the film that introduced me to the fine art of saying everything “sucks.” It also possibly buried an animal rights/vegetarian agenda in my subconscious, which didn’t manifest itself until high school.

I also think the movie just warped the way I perceive cinema. On its surface, Harry and the Hendersons is a delightful, family friendly romp. But there are certain scenes that lend it a more adult-oriented air. There’s a surprising amount of profanity, for one. There’s also a scene between Harry and George’s daughter Sarah (Margaret Langrick) that haunts me. Harry brings Sarah flowers [Side note: When trying to determine Harry’s gender, Sarah is the only one to point out Harry’s massive dong]. When she smiles at his gift, Harry gently puts his hand on the side of her face… and knocks flying to the ground with a loud thud. It’s so violent and random. And that thud really pops. In my head, I pretend Harry straight up pulled an Of Mice and Men on Sarah, but that’s maybe too dark. Anyway, animal rights. That’s cool.

I now find myself well-stocked on Harry and the Hendersons stories. Did you know Harry (Hall) also played the Predator? And that he died of complications from HIV? Rick Baker (An American Werewolf in London, Star Wars: A New Hope, Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” video, and, um, Norbit) designed Harry. He won a fucking Oscar for that shit. The film was adapted for TV. The show ran for three seasons. Harry murdered several characters throughout the show’s 72-episode run. I find clips of the show oddly compelling:





Reflection: I forgot to talk about George’s adorably nerdy son Ernie (Joshua Rudoy)! He’s so cute!

House (1977)

Tagline: HOUSE!

Curiosity: It’s acknowledged as being an insane, weird movie. So, there’s that. And it’s endorsed by noted SNC sex symbol Ti West.

Plot: Unhappy with her father’s decision to remarry, Gorgeous (Kimiko Ikegami) goes with six of her friends to visit her aunt in the country. But then her house starts doing some crazy-ass shit, man.

Thoughts: Oh. Oh… wow. House lives up to its reputation for being a strange flick. It’s not necessarily gory or disturbing. But it is extremely surreal, made with a low tech sensibility that actually makes it stand out. Star Wars needs constant upkeep; House will always look like a feverish dream. In his introduction to the film, West notes that director/co-writer Nobuhiko Obayashi utilizes every possible camera and special effect available. And it’s completely true.

While Obayashi was always an experimental artist at heart, for a while he made his living doing commercials. Weirdly enough, that helped create House’s sensibility, as the film conveys plenty through mood and setting. When Gorgeous’ step-mom-to-be shows up onscreen, her every move is greeted with a soft focus lens, generous lighting, and copious amounts of air to billow her skirt and scarf. She looks like an angelic movie star; no wonder Gorgeous hates her.

The film is unabashedly hyperactive and bipolar. Obayashi’s background allows him to make everything bright and loud. He jumps from comedy to drama to horror in seconds. The result is not necessarily a true horror movie, but it’s an appealing experimental effort, one that forces the audience to draw its own conclusions. It can be frightening if you want it to be, but I honestly took it as a black comedy, a darker Looney Tunes short. You can find it stupid if you want (One character is killed by a piano, another by pillows), but it’s honestly a hilariously creepy viewing experience.

Reflection: I want to see where Obayashi went from here.

Tango & Cash (1989)

Tagline: Two of L.A.'s top rival cops are going to have to work together... Even if it kills them.

Curiosity: Kurt Russell’s movies in the ’80s were feckin’ awesome.

Plot: Rivals Tango (Sylvester Stallone) and Cash (Russell) are the two top cops in L.A.s, costing drug lords millions of dollars each year. Criminal mastermind Perret (Jack Palance) has big plans for them though: Frame them for murder and then ship ’em off to prison. But Perret wasn’t counting on Tango and Cash becoming partners, Odd Couple-style, and the duo soon breaks out and gets to bustin’ skulls.

Also Cash macks on Tango’s sister (Teri Hatcher), who is both a stripper and a drummer. The ’80s were weird.

Thoughts: Tango & Cash feels like it could have been an awesome ’80s cop show, if only because the script forces in so many angles while still being merely a good Lethal Weapon rip-off. As is, it doesn’t seem totally sure what it wants to be: A pre-CSI tech drama, a screwball comedy, a sexy sex party, or a rootin’, tootin’ action flick. I know the beauty of the buddy cop genre is that it can mash up a bunch of different styles, but T&C doesn’t develop any one particular idea, leaving me with plenty of questions, such as…

-Why does Teri Hatcher work a stripper who plays drums?

-How do Kurt Russell’s gun-boots work? If I had boots that shot bullets when I kicked, I would use them ALL OF THE TIME. Even in my sleep.

-What other kind of freaky deaky masochistic shit is Stallone into?

-What’s Jack Palance’s deal? With the mice? What’s up with that?

-Why do the characters speak almost exclusively in one-liners?

-How come no one notices that when Kurt Russell disguises himself in a dress, he still looks exactly like Kurt Russell in a dress? What is this, Looney Tunes?

T&C asks more questions than it answers. Still, I got my fill of Kurt Russell. Stallone gets stuck playing straight man most of the time, but Russell is, well, classic Russell: Cash is kind of insane and loud and passionate and he has fucking GUN-BOOTS.

Reflection: Holy shit, that's Robert Z'Dar from Soultaker!!