I did it again.
25. Demonwarp (1988) is a classic example of how deceptive poster art can be. Because that poster slaps! The movie does not. George Kennedy stars (for a bit anyway) is this low-budget horror flick that features Bigfoot, zombies, aliens, nudity, human sacrifice, and still manages to be both boring and incomprehensible. I’ll say it. Bigfoot is a boring monster. If you think about Bigfoot and are full of wonder, consider you maybe don’t have any creativity or point of view.
24. I feel for director Bobcat Goldthwait here. He’s an interesting guy and I wanted to like God Bless America (2011), but the satire just rings hollow. A guy gets a terminal diagnosis and goes on a murder spree (along with a young girl who admires his gumption), offing anyone he feels is an asshole unworthy of life. It’s Saw, but as a quirky indie road comedy. It’s an angry film that hates a lot of the right stuff, but it’s caustic cynicism runs out of relatable righteous wrath by about 20 minutes. The movie feels small and weirdly cute, despite all the murder, and sadly, most of the comedy doesn’t work for me.
23. I mostly like the James Bond movies. Most of them are breezy and passable enough, even when they’re not great. I was cool with Daniel Craig as 007. I didn’t see Spectre, so I may have been missing something when I put on No Time to Die (2021). I liked the start, but quickly got bored. Maybe the sexy and suave super spy action thriller is a bit of a cozy relic from another time that doesn’t hit the same anymore. I don’t remember anything about this movie except that I wanted more Ana de Armas.
22. In the wake of movies like The Rocky Horror Picture Show, a whole subgenre of transgressive rock musicals emerged. Voyage of the Rock Aliens (1984) is a weird collision of hokey 50s style teen romance and tacky sci-fi cheese. This extremely cartoony movie is about some aliens (robots??) trying to find music on other planets (I think). It feels thrown together and is full of bizarre choices. For instance, Ruth Gordon (Harold and Maude, Rosemary’s Baby) is like 80 years old and is a tiny UFO-obsessed town sheriff and Michael Berryman (The Hills Have Eyes) plays a chainsaw-wielding maniac for some reason. Despite most of the songs being forgettable, a fascinating romantic twist towards the end caught me off guard and had me respecting it more than I thought possible. Points for surprising me, movie. Points. There’s also a Jermaine Jackson music video in the first act. Better than Vicious Lips.
21. If you want to be trapped in a poorly lit house with a couple drunk Canadians and immobile ant monsters, then have I got the movie for you. Things (1989) is among the three most hard to endure movies I have ever seen. It is aggressively, incompetently, and incoherently made. Things is quite insane and it feels like you are losing your mind as your brain tries in vain to make sense of the murky, muddy images on the screen and the truly bizarre interactions between the characters. It’s also a hard one to sit through. On par with Alien Beasts and Black Devil Doll from Hell. We watch movies like this because they are an ordeal. Our group hated this one, but we felt it was somehow important for just how spectacularly awful it is. On every technical level, a much worse film than Demonwarp (and just about every film ever), but there’s something almost commendable about how bad it is. You’ve been warned. Now go hurt yourself.
20. I approve of filmmaker Jon Moritsugu taking PBS money and making this extremely punk indie flick. It’s decidedly edgy, countercultural, and John Waters-esque, but for me Terminal USA (1993) was not an altogether enjoyable cinematic experience, even if I respect its balls and how angry it made people. Indie films back then were just indie-er, y’know? I miss that.
19. Henry Jaglom’s Tracks (1976) is a weird little character study that takes place entirely on a train. The character in question is 1st Sgt. Jack Falen (played by Dennis Hopper), and, although he presents himself as put together, he is not exactly doing well. Love me a good trapped-in-one-location story. This 70s drama also has a nice meandering vibe that introduces a lot of random passengers to help populate the world.
18. I have a real love/hate thing with Raising Arizona (1987). On the one hand, this early Coen Brothers flick is well cast (Nicolas Cage and Holly Hunter!), uniquely stylish, and Barry Sonnenfeld’s amazing camera work is mesmerizingly playful. On the other hand, the zany live-action cartoon physics and tone shockingly get boring to me after awhile. There are so many wonderful visual jokes that are inventively filmed, but there’s an emotional barrier that keeps me at such a distance that I must confess this is perhaps one of my least favorite Coen flick. (Although, lesser Coens is still watchable.)
17. I saw Barbarella (1968) years ago and remember thinking it was better than Flash Gordon. Upon re-watch (for the bits I stayed awake through), I must admit I was mistaken. Both movies are campy, brainless space mayhem, but Barbarella is just running on the fumes of how horny it is. Jane Fonda is fun in the role, and there are a couple good jokes and plenty of amazingly cheesy sets and over-the-top costumes. It’s a sleeker production, but I prefer Star Crash.
16. Raiders of the Lost Ark and Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade are Steven Spielberg (George Lucas, too) and Harrison Ford at their peak. Visually, kinetically, they are perfect American popcorn adventures. I’ve always had mixed feelings about the second entry, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (1984). It looks incredible and has amazing action in the first and final act. The middle section gets sluggish, racist, and overly dark (however, memorably sick). People rag on Kate Capshaw’s grating performance as Willie Scott and Ke Huy Quan as Short Round signifying the series was becoming more kidsy, but honestly, Harrison Ford’s performance is so cold and distant that Indiana Jones himself kind of saps a lot of the joy out the film. Jones’ relationship with Scott is gross. His relationship with Short Round is odd. Maybe it’s a lack of chemistry between the actors. I don’t know. The bit with the bugs is fun and the minecar is still thrilling. Nobody cares about the magic stones though. Mixed bag. Some series highs and some series lows.
15. Richard Linklater returns to the trippy world of rotoscoping (his third, after Waking Life and A Scanner Darkly) with Apollo 10½: A Space Age Childhood (2022). The premise: in 1969, NASA scientists approach a 10 year old Houston kid to be their secret astronaut, after embarrassingly designing the cockpit to their rocket just a bit too small. From there, Jack Black’s narration launches us into a series of vignettes that go on to list every last detail of life in America at that time. It’s basically a boomer nostalgia overdose, but it’s entertaining and quirky and, having grown up with Nick-at-Nite and boomer parents, a lot of it felt familiar and cool. Ah, to have been a child in the 1960s.
14. Life, Animated (2016) is a feel-good documentary about a nonverbal autistic child discovering his voice through Disney sidekick characters. We follow Owen Suskind as he navigates the world and heartbreak and being alone. It’s a gentle peek into the lives of the Suskind family and an inspiring examination of the power of animation.
13. Robert Altman seeks to dismantle western mythology, and does so with some stylish costumes and a solid cast in Buffalo Bill and the Indians, or Sitting Bull’s History Lesson (1976). Like M*A*S*H, it’s a sprawling film with lots of characters and a lot to say. If you’re like me and into American history (particularly how Buffalo Bill Cody basically defined the modern conception of the cowboys and how the west was won with his travelling circus show), then you’re going to find this one pretty enjoyable. Stars Paul Newman as the lonely, insecure Buffalo Bill, with a supporting cast of Will Sampson, Frank Kacquitts, Burt Lancaster, Geraldine Chaplin, Harvey Keitel, Shelley Duvall, John Considine, and Joel Grey.
12. More angry movies about the increasingly perplexing nature of the world. Lu Lee Cheang’s Fresh Kill (1994) is a dry, experimental movie about a lesbian couple in quasi-dystopian Staten Island that is beset by television ads and evil corporate pollution. It’s weird and a whole vibe, but this is the version of New York City I choose to believe in.
11. Pirates of the Caribbean director, Gore Verbinski deserves credit for being the weird filmmaker he is. He swings big, and, even when it doesn’t fully work, it’s kind of amazing they let him get away with it. The Cure for Wellness (2016) is an expensive looking production. It’s a sleek thriller about the horrors of Swiss people and working too much. Vacation is presented as the enemy for many of the characters, which is kind of a refreshing twist. It’s all slow and classy until the end where it starts to get increasingly campy and silly, but as someone who enjoys classic horror melodramas, I was on board with it. It’s not amazing, but I’m a sucker for movies about health cults (The Road to Wellville is another example, although not really a good movie).
10. Don Bluth left Disney in the late 70s and became the studios biggest rival in the 80s. Bluth and company’s talents for animation are visionary. Sadly most of the movies they made were not particularly good. The Secret of NIMH (1983), is easily their best. Mrs. Brisby, a widowed single-mother mouse with a sick infant, must go on a harrowing quest to save him. This formidable quest introduces her to fearsome cats, ancient owls, and disturbing science experiments conducted on hapless rats who have mutated to become something more. Kudos to Bluth for having the audacity to willfully scare, disturb, and depress children. I mean that. This movie is full of fear and peril and the animation is so fluid and captivating (those smooth flowing capes and those herky-jerky walk cycles!). It’s a masterpiece of animation, hampered only by a somewhat obnoxious Dom DeLuise role as a clumsy crow (but the animators make the complex movements balletic). I could listen to John Carradine voicing the Great Howl forever though. That scene is also a perfect example of Bluth’s specialty: heightened animated horror. The owl is caked in cobwebs and has glowing eyes and a voice that sounds like the hollow of an ancient tree. It’s amazing. I just hate Bluth cutesie, twee stuff. Luckily, Secret of NIMH has very little of that.
9. Speaking of mice and Gore Verbinski, Mousehunt (1997) is a movie about two squabbling brothers that inherit a house that they wish to auction off, but first they must deal with a pesky rodent problem. I’ve seen this movie a hundred times and liked it a lot when it came out, and it only got better on a recent re-watch. On paper this should be a basic slapstick children’s comedy with cute animal hijinks. In execution it is a grungy, darker than-you’d-expect comedy that pays homage to classic comedy teams (like Laurel & Hardy, Abott & Costello, The 3 Stooges, etc.) as well as the golden age of Looney Tunes. But the real thing about this movie is that despite its squeaky, silly premise, every single person involved goes so hard. Nathan Lane gives a truly special performance as the egotistical Ernie Smuntz (as does Lee Evans, playing his softer brother). Their chemistry together is great. Verbinski’s immersive directing and Phedon Papamichael’s kinetic cinematography really pop. Christopher Walken has a very funny cameo as a creepy exterminator. All this is great, but the real MVP is Alan Sylvestri absolutely bringing it with a big orchestral score that builds so much of the scope and logic to this cartoony world. Drop a piano on my head, but Sylvestri’s work here is even better than Back to the Future. With all this great stuff, you honestly forget there’s a mouse in this movie.
8. More angry. People who have no interest in Vikings and Nordic culture will watch this because they loved Robert Eggers’ The VVitch and The Lighthouse. I know because I’m one of them. The Northman (2022) is a sweaty, blood-soaked historical revenge epic full of bone-crunching sound effects and deep, resonating throat singing. Based on the medieval Scandinavian legend of Amleth (itself an inspiration for Shakespeare’s Hamlet), The Northman recounts the tale of a man who seeks to avenge his father, save his mother, and kill his uncle. Insane attention to historical detail, an incredible cast (although I could have used more Willem Dafoe and Björk), and a cold bleakness that feels like arctic wind cutting through to your bones all cohere to bring this testosterone-fueled tale of cycles of violence to life.
7. Before Scarface, The Untouchables, and Mission Impossible, Brian de Palma directed a wacky comic rock opera that is an adaptation of both Phantom of the Opera and Picture of Dorian Gray and is also a painful, brilliant satire and takedown of the music industry featuring songs by Paul Williams. It’s Phantom of the Paradise (1974). There’ve already been a few angry films on this list so far (and there’s more to come). It’s fresh and amazing and full of big feelings and predates Rocky Horror by a year. Check it out if you haven’t seen it.
6. I’ve reviewed Jim Sharmon and Richard O’Brien’s pseudo-sequel to Rocky Horror Picture Show before. But I had to see it again and I will remind people this exists any chance I get. Shock Treatment (1981) features a candy-colored aesthetic that lampoons American media, predicts the rise of reality TV, and boasts more O’Brien songs that genuinely rival its predecessor film. It’s anarchic and smart and full of frustration about marriage and romance and corporations and the vacuousness of TV culture. My only note is that it’s too complicated, a little unfocused on any particular character, extremely meta, and a skosh too clever for its own good. It’s got almost too much to say, and you definitely have to pay attention to follow it. I still love it unconditionally. Returning from Rocky Horror are Richard O’Brien, Nell Campbell, Patricia Quinn, and Charles Grey. Newcomers Barry Humphries and Cliff DeYoung (in an incredible dual role) are marvelous and major props to Jessica Harper, star of this, Phantom of the Paradise, and Suspiria.
5. It’s good to know there’s creativity and kindness out there. Directors, Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert, have proven themselves a formidably bizarre force with shorts like Interesting Ball, music videos like Turn Down for What with DJ Snake and Lil Jon, features like Swiss Army Man, and now Everything Everywhere All at Once (2022), a multiverse kung-fu comedy adventure fantasy that’s ultimately about love and family starring the great Michelle Yeoh, Ke Huy Quan, James Hong, Stephanie Hsu, and Jamie Lee Curtis. I sometimes praise a film for its humanity, and what I usually mean by that is its tenderness and compassion. Every Everywhere All at Once, for all its anarchic action, wild costume changes, and fluorescent colors is a very intimate and human movie. I thrilled. I laughed. I cried. Definitely deserving of the hullabaloo and general hoopla surrounding it.
4. God, Anna Biller’s retro style powers are captivating and unmatched. The Love Witch (2016) is a brilliant flick running on the fumes of its cleverness and vibes. Elaine (played wonderfully and hilariously by Samantha Robinson) is a hot, young witch casting spells to enchant men so that she can find the most amazing and important thing in the world: love. Not often does one encounter a satire about how romance itself is romanticized wrapped in a frilly, candy-colored 60s veneer reminiscent of a Hammer horror production, but Biller nails it. Sleek, cheeky, clever, and sexy.
3. You may have noticed I like my movies to have something unique about them. I saw this years ago and thought it was fun, but seeing it again with more grownup eyes made it me appreciate it so much more. Neil Jordan’s The Company of Wolves (1984) is a surreal fairy tale for adults and the best version of Little Red Riding Hood you’re likely to find. From it’s knobbly, gnarly forests shrouded in fog to it’s magnificently grotesque werewolf transformations, this movie scratches the itch for dark fantasy that respects its audience. I’m also a bit of a sucker for the Saragossa Manuscript-esque framing device of stories within stories. How many dreams have you had that have had their own lore? Also, Angela Lansbury is Granny.
2. I love an old timey boat movie, and there are plenty of stories about cruel sea captains high off the smell of their own farts (Mutiny On the Bounty, Moby Dick, The Caine Mutiny, etc.). This one, based on a Jack London story and directed by legendary filmmaker Michael Curtiz (Casablanca, Robin Hood, Captain Blood), stars cigar-chomping Edward G. Robinson as The Sea Wolf (1941). Beginning on the moody dark streets of San Francisco one night, circa 1900, a sordid collection of disparate characters haphazardly enter each others lives, and, through the tangles of fate, find themselves all onboard the infamous ship which never comes to port called The Ghost, helmed by the volatile and violent Captain Wolf-Larsen. I kind of love this stuff. Menacing, atmospheric shadows; smoke and fog; grizzled, sweaty sailors with gunk in their beards and grime under their nails. Lush cinematography by Sol Polito aside, the dark London tale of a domineering but insecure man of action clasping tightly on what little he does control while age and ailments – as well as a phantom rival brother out to murder him – gradually catch up to him is just compelling. This film has three cipher characters entering this unwelcoming world all from different angles, adding to the tension. I maybe even dug this more than John Huston’s Key Largo (if only because it’s more boaty).
1. I saw Alien: Resurrection on TV as a kid. At the time, I liked it well enough. In college, I finally saw Ridley Scott’s original Alien (1979). I thought it was great, but never watched it again. Instead, like many, I revisited the more action-oriented sequel, Aliens, much more. Aliens 3 was in there too. I used to say Aliens was my favorite. Let me adjust that state. While the story beats for Alien were not knew at the time, they were a masterclass in nailing those familiar beats with goopy flair to spare. Like the monster-in-the-house had never looked and sounded or felt quite like this before. And while the aesthetic has been duplicated countless times by other films, nothing quite compares to the nihilistic, claustrophobic, nightmare horror of Alien. It’s a perfect horror movie. It’s scary, yes, but it’s also fascinating because it is about the gruesome life cycle of a horrific, newly discovered organism. Sigourney Weaver, Ian Holm, Yaphet Kotto, Tom Skerritt, Veronica Cartright, John Hurt, and Harry Dean Stanton are all wonderfully cast, but it’s also the H. R. Giger xenomorph designs that make this movie stand out among a sea of copycats and wannabes. It has such iconic sci-fi imagery that it’s easy to take it for granted, but you really got to respect the classics, especially when they’re this effective. Still my favorite Ridley Scott film.
SHORTS:
What did New York City look like in 1921? Manhatta (1921) will show you. No narration. Just moving pictures. Experience the wonders of time travel!
The Delian Mode (2009) is a short doc about Delia Derbyshire, one of the pioneers in electronic music. It’s a fascinating look at the complexities of creating unique sounds in an analog era, as well as the life of one of its most influential co-creators. Crank the Dr. Who theme and pour one of for Delia.
One of the many uniquely American musical genres is the blues. Sit yourself down on a creaky porch and get out of the sweltering Texas sun and learn about the The Blues Accordin’ to Lightnin’ Hopkins (1968).
This Won't Be For Everyone 