Wednesday, March 11, 2015

The Final Executioner (1984)



**POSSIBLE SPOILERS AHOY!**

Over a mix of black-and-white and color archival scenes featuring atomic bomb test footage, volcanos erupting, and cities in ruins, we are told that the world has now been divided into two groups: the rich and the contaminated masses (so, not too far off what it was before the nuclear holocaust), and that the contaminated people are regularly hunted and killed to stop the spread of their sickness.  However, we’re also told that one day someone realized that the contamination was finished; all the people were now clean.  Cut to Alan (William Mang) and his wife (Cinzia Bonfantini, and the only reason we know she’s Alan’s wife is because she is credited as such) as they are ousted from the city and reclassified as “hunting material.”  Soon enough (though it doesn’t feel like it), lone hunter Erasmus (Harrison Muller, Jr.) is in competition with Edra (Marina Costa) and her band of scummy hunters to see who can take down the most contaminated people in one day.  Including Alan and his spouse.

Romolo Guerrieri’s The Final Executioner (aka L’ultimo Guerriero, aka The Last Warrior) is yet another in the lengthy heritage of Pasta-pocalypse films that sprang up from Italy in the wake of John Carpenter’s Escape from New York.  For as much as it clings to certain motifs of the subgenre, though, it also strays pretty far afield in other, significant ways.  As is customary, there is the critique of society along class lines.  The rich control everything, and the poor are victims forced to behave brutally in order to survive.  By that same token, the elite rich (here embodied by the hunters [since we never see an actual bourgeois rich person outside the hunting reserve], even though they live in the wastelands in rundown manses that look like they could have been used as sets in one of Meatloaf’s music videos) are savages by nature.  They are callous in their disregard for human life, and they think nothing of killing in order to maintain the status quo that they have manufactured (although any context as to why this serves their needs is left shrouded in mystery for the viewer, and it makes no logical sense, so we’re left only with the generality that all rich people are evil people).  Of course, this means that we have to assume that Alan was at one time one of the rich elite (he is a cybernetics specialist), so he should be hardhearted and vicious before he is sent to the hunting reserve, but he’s not (or we’re heavily encouraged to assume he’s not).  It’s only after his encounters with Erasmus and Edra that his bloodlust grows.

As seen in multitudinous films of this ilk (Endgame, Turkey Shoot, The Running Man, et cetera), there is also the recycling of a variation on The Most Dangerous Game afoot herein.  Most succinctly summed up in the scene where Edra’s gang and Erasmus lurk near a pond waiting for the contaminated people to crest the hill like a herd of gazelle approaching a watering hole, they pick the people off one at a time.  They later tally who killed whom like they’re comparing points on stags’ racks.  What’s interesting here is that the prey isn’t really the focus (outside of our man Alan and his wife).  They are literally nothing more than faceless game at a reserve.  It’s odd that our attention should be on the hunters as anything other than antagonists, but it’s their relationship that drives a large portion of the narrative, not Alan’s struggle against them as might be assumed.  The competition angle of the film, normally set up between hunter and prey is instead here predominantly between hunter and hunter.  The tension between these people is strong.  

Even among Edra’s group, which we can surmise are together because they have some kind of bond, there is a wealth of animosity.  Melvin (Stefano Davanzati) is absolutely reprehensible (and that’s saying something).  The first scene he’s in, he points a gun at fellow hunter Louis (himself a decrepit junkie and played by Renato Miracco) and pulls the trigger (it’s empty, of course; and unfortunately).  He soon after remarks about Erasmus’ special rifle, “whoever painted it didn’t know the color of bullshit.”  He spends his downtime admiring his own body in a mirror.  Sex fiend Diane (Margit Evelyn Newton), when not shooting people or doing it with boy toy Phil (Luca Giordana) is spying on her associates and just being generally creepy.  The one hunter character we would expect to sympathize with, Edra’s little brother Evan (Karl Zinny), is arguably the worst of the bunch.  Youth usually comes with a modicum of innocence in cinema (Bad Seed-esque stories excepted), but there is none to be found in this young man.  He carries out one of the worst acts in the film, and later he gleefully relives it via some kind of memory projection (and possibly sexual stimulation) machine.  Was he born bad?  Is this Edra’s influence on him?  We’re never told.  We only know that he’s irredeemable (yet still not moreso than any of the others).

The film diverges from its subgenre in its last third, and I think that this is also where it finally collapses as an entertainment.  It essentially becomes a Revenge film as Alan picks off the hunters one by one at Edra’s compound (come on, you didn’t see this coming?).  The satisfaction in watching these pieces of garbage get their comeuppance is delicious; I won’t deny that.  However, it is completely dissociated from Post-Apocalyptic (not to mention Pasta-pocalyptic) films past, present, and future.  The film’s climactic moment is a total deus ex machina that rings hollow, because it suddenly reminds us that there was supposed to be a theme going on underneath all this action and the filmmakers just didn’t feel like exploring it, but it still needed to have some lip service paid to it in a desperate attempt to try and trick the audience into thinking there was more going on in the film than there actually was.  This irked me quite a bit, because the story is set up with a Science Fiction premise.  Nevertheless, it then unspools itself as a straight ahead Action/Revenge film, and only in its final moments are we reminded that this is all supposed to be set in a post-nuke future (costumes and “fancy” guns, notwithstanding).  Harlan Ellison once said (and I’m paraphrasing; also, it may not have been he who said it, but this is the way I remember it, I think it holds true, regardless) that a good Science Fiction story must have its fantastic ideas be integral to the story itself.  And this is not the case with The Final Executioner.  This film’s Science Fiction elements are little more than window dressing (which I suppose is fine and dandy if you’d rather stare at the curtains that the view through the window).  Now, is that a fair criticism for a film that is purposely trying to cash in on a prevailing trend from a country known for putting out genre material that is imitative at best?  I think in this case, it is.  I felt cheated by this movie.  The film takes the long way around to get to the same point a more direct film could have reached in a more satisfying fashion.  It doesn’t help any that there is almost no life to any of the action scenes, and the whole affair reeks of rote regurgitation from start to end.  If someone who actually gave a shit about the end product had a hand in this film, it could have been a nice little gem.  Unfortunately, such is not the case.

MVT:  I give Erasmus points for having one of the more interesting costumes in Pasta-pocalyptic cinema history.

Make or Break:  The film’s prologue is weak, lazy, and dull.  It bluntly lets us know that there is nothing coming in the next ninety minutes we haven’t seen done before and done better.

Score:  5/10       

Sunday, March 8, 2015

Episode #327: Welcome Home Monty

Welcome back for another episode of the show that give you the most for your free download!!!

This week Large William is joined by CDR from the Cult of Muscle podcast for coverage of Welcome Home, Soldier Boys (1971) directed by Richard Compton and Flexing with Monty (2010) directed by John Albo!!!

Direct download: ggtmc_327.mp3 
 
Emails to midnitecinema@gmail.com

Adios!!!



Episode #326: Top 30 First Time Watches of 2014

Welcome to our Top 30 first time watches for the year 2014!!!

Join Will, Todd and Kelly as they discuss the films they saw for the first time in 2014 and where they stand in order for viewing pleasure!!!

Direct download: ggtmc_326.mp3 
 
Emails to midnitecinema@gmail.com

Adios!!!


Episode #325: Bone Cop

Welcome back to the GGtMC!!!

This week the Gents cover TimeCop (1994) directed by Peter Hyams and starring Jean Claude Van Damme and Bone (1972) directed by Larry Cohen and starring Yaphet Kotto!!!

Direct download: ggtmc_325.mp3 
 
Emails to midnitecinema@gmail.com

Adios!!!



Episode #324: Death Steps of Vengeance

Welcome back for another episode of the GGtMC!!!

This week Sammy and Will return to Italy for a little gialli...and a little spaghetti. We cover Death Steps in the Dark (1977) starring Leonard Mann and Vengeance (1968) starring Richard Harrison!!!

Direct download: ggtmc_324.mp3 
Emails to midnitecinema@gmail.com

Adios!!!



Friday, March 6, 2015

The King of Marvin Gardens (1972)



During the 2014-2015 NFL season, the Green Bay Packers defeated the New England Patriots by a score of 26-21 at Lambeau Field. Prior to the game, Large William and I agreed upon an interesting wrinkle: if my Patriots won, he’d be required to watch and review a movie of my choosing for the Midnite Ride (e.g. Jamaa Fanaka’s STREET WARS), whereas if the Packers won, I’d cover 1972’s THE KING OF MARVIN GARDENS for the GGtMC blog. This particular gentlemen’s bet was a win-win proposition. It’s long overdue, but here’s my end of the deal.

The antiquated architecture standing in the Atlantic City occupied by this film’s characters was long gone when I walked off the boardwalk and onto the frigid sand nearly 40 years later to spread a departed family member’s ashes. Despite this difference in mise en scène, I can tell you with certainty that Atlantic City in the winter months is every bit as bleak and biting as it is in Bob Rafelson’s 1972 film, THE KING OF MARVIN GARDENS. While the characters find that it’s a terrible time and place to hatch a real-estate scheme or get hired as an auctioneer, it proves more than adequate for bonfires and horsey rides.

During a broadcast into the wee hours, talk-radio personality David Staebler (Jack Nicholson) is urgently summoned to Atlantic City by his older brother, Jason (Bruce Dern). Without any further context, David leaves Philadelphia and arrives at the train station, only to be collected by his brother’s cheeky companion, Sally (Ellen Burstyn) and a clumsy welcoming band of drums and brass players. Trombone Shorty, they ain’t.


When the brothers first reunite, they do so with jail bars between them; jailed for reasons unknown, Jason is optimistic he’ll get out by sundown if David can track down a guy named Lewis. That doesn’t quite materialize, but Jason is cruising around the boardwalk on a motorized caddy in what seems like only hours later. He reveals a plan to secure real estate for a gambling enterprise on an obscure South Pacific island, and he wants David as a partner. Along for the venture as something of a support team are Sally and Jessica (Julia Anne Robinson), a pretty young thing as naive as she is fun-loving. Both women occupy points in an uneasy love triangle with Jason.

As the plan develops, it unravels at nearly the same rate. Certain events reveal Jason’s pattern (neurosis?) of overselling. (Case in point: Jason may not be able to afford the room in a historic hotel he’d convinced Sally he owned). David can barely contain his unease about the scheme and it seems that simply being near his brother puts him on edge. Sally is losing both confidence and trust in Jason, and shifts an envious eye towards Jessica. Failure doesn’t adequately describe the worst possible outcome for this motley crew.


Despite their shared genetics, the differences between the Staebler brothers couldn't be more stark. David is an introverted storyteller leading a dull life in a Philadelphia apartment he shares with their grandfather. Jason is a charismatic con artist and feverish dreamweaver with lofty aspirations. At a dinner following his release from jail, Jason sucks down brightly colored cocktails while rapping about stolen cars full of Swiss watches as David nurses a glass of milk. Rafelson leaves no stone unturned -- be it visual, narrative, or in characterization -- in illustrating this contrast, yet his efforts never feel try-hard, nor do moments feel unearned. 

Lensed by legendary cinematographer Laszlo Kovacs, the film has a bounty of well-composed scenes with tight framing and offbeat arrangements. One of my favorites features Dern and Nicholson facing each other on horseback on the beach, with the animals barely stirring. Why? No idea. Many of the exterior shots on and around the boardwalk have an overcast, dreary look that reflect a decaying environment, but there are timely and purposeful tweaks to the palette -- a daytime bonfire scene which acts as a liberating cleanse for one character might be the brightest among them.


The film is book-ended by a pair of David’s on-air monologues which border on confessionals. I won’t spoil the content or moods of either, but the first one trails off with David describing he and his brother as “accomplices” before a phone call to his booth engineer abruptly interrupts the conclusion -- the same call that prompts his trip to Atlantic City. Towards the end of the film, David delivers an equally engrossing monologue that transitions into a scene where the brothers’ grandfather projects an 8mm home movie on the apartment’s wall showing the two young boys building a sand castle at the beach -- in other words, a temporary structure assumed to be knocked down or washed away. In lesser hands, this closing visual may have come off as clumsy or sickly sweet, but I found it dovetailed nicely with the film’s themes of lofty ambitions and a fleeting (but persistent) want for paradise.


MVT: This is a character-driven film and as such, how you evaluate it depends a lot on how convinced you are by the on-screen relationships. Both Dern and Nicholson put forth measured performances of two complex characters existing in a state of vascillating stress due to their  oppositional quirks. Burstyn is amazing as Jason’s aging, slighted lover. The charismatic performances are great and the chemistry is even better, but the underlying dynamic between the brothers is the most valuable thing in the film. I have a younger brother myself, and I found this element relatable. Fortunately, it's much more dysfuntional than how he and I relate to each other.

Make or Break: There are plenty of scenes featuring crackling dialogue. There are other moments that reveal nuanced and meaningful characterizations and the dynamics among the players (both individual relationships and as a group). There’s dazzling imagery throughout. The scene in the abandoned convention hall where our foursome puts on a mock Miss America paegent combines all of these elements and was a big make for me. David stiffly narrates as the paegent host, Jason screams encouragement from atop a stack of cargo boxes, Jessica plays the wide-eyed starlet, and Sally is off to the side playing the world’s largest pipe organ (allegedly).

Score: 7.75 / 10

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Death Run (1988)


My friends and I once attempted to develop a feature length film.  I should probably back up a bit.  This was back when we were in elementary school (I’m thinking seventh or eighth grade), and films featuring ninja were widespread.  Having recently experienced the warped insanity of Kosei Saito’s The Ninja Wars (most likely rented from the local Hollywood Video), we were inspired.  The other big thing that was going on in the world of cinema (at least as far as twelve-year-old boys were concerned) was the avalanche of low-rent Action films from the stables of such studios as Cannon Films.  Consequently, our film couldn’t just have plain, old ninja.  They had to be ninja who also used machine guns and pistols.  At any rate, a “script” was written (most likely by hand in composition book), and it was as juvenile and threadbare as you’re imagining.  

As you might suspect, problems quickly arose.  For starters, we couldn’t decide on who was going to play the lead (who also got to kiss the heroine).  None of us knew the first thing about martial arts outside of what we’d seen on screen (and we sure as shit couldn’t duplicate even that much).  None of us had a ninja uniform (and none of us could afford one from the ads in such magazines as…well…Ninja).  Probably most damning of all was the fact that none of us had a camera with which to film our magnum opus (although I would argue that the dearth of ninja outfits was a very close second).  Once a few weeks or months of trying to outthink reality had passed, we conceded that our totally awesome ninja movie would never take shape.  But the world is not poorer for this lack.  We still have plenty of films made in kids’ backyards (go check out some back issues of Cinemagic, if you doubt me), and if even something like Michael J. Murphy’s Death Run can see some form of release, there simply has to be hope for every starry-eyed child filmmaker out there.

Paul (Rob Bartlett) and his girlfriend Jenny (Wendy Parsons) are put into suspended animation by Paul’s doctor mother (Kay Lowrey), as a nuclear holocaust tears civilization apart outside their bunker.  Waking up twenty-five years in the future for no discernible reason other than to start the film, they discover that the world is full of mutants on one side and post-apocalyptic punks on the other.  The latter are centralized in Junk City and ruled over by the villainous-just-by-looking-at-him Messiah (Patrick Olliver), a claw-handed sadist who splits the lovers apart and forces Paul to run the eponymous “obstacle course.”

The reason why I mention this film in the same breath as my and my friends’ abortive cinematic attempt is because I like to think that, had we been successful, the end result would likely have been similar in quality to Death Run.  It’s clear from the very first frames here that the film was made for a budget upon which even a shoestring would feel pity.  Most interior shots appear to be lit with a single light source (possibly a flashlight).  Cuts rarely match.  The majority of the actors look like they used their own clothes for their wardrobe (the one exception being Messiah, but you never know).   The whole film is post-dubbed (whether because it was filmed on a non-sync system or they couldn’t afford sound equipment or they could and the soundtrack turned out like crap, I couldn’t say), and the voices rarely match the actors’ lips.  The actors also seem to be very careful about not only not making contact with their fellow thespians in the action scenes but also about not giving the impression that they could have for the camera’s sake.  I’m unfamiliar with the heavy metal bands and/or songs used copiously on the soundtrack, but I wouldn’t be in the least bit surprised if one or more of them listed some of the film’s actors as members.  The mutant makeups are largely slapped on bits of colored latex with bladders threatening to make them pop off the actors’ skin.  

But despite the movie being strictly amateur hour, it manages to be astonishingly well-paced, partly because it’s only a little over an hour long and partly because it wastes absolutely none of its time on extraneous things like exposition, characterization, et cetera.  The filmmakers jump in with both feet, hit the ground running, and simply don’t let up.  It’s also clear that the people behind this were forthright about their work.  How else do you explain the extraordinarily homoerotic, extraordinarily straight-faced training montage (including shirtless one-armed pushups, shirtless grappling, and shirtless military presses done with a log)?  And yet, they’re also clearly having fun, because why else carry something like this all the way to distribution unless you are?  Plus, it’s evident that there are no boundaries in what can and will happen to the characters, so there is an element of tension just to see which of the cardboard cutouts makes it to the final credits (you might be surprised).  This, combined with the film taking the time to hit every single Action/Post-Apocalyptic genre cliché ever invented (okay, that’s maybe an exaggeration, since they clearly didn’t have the money for the bigger effects, but the point remains the same), gives just enough of a mix between the familiar and the unexpected to make the viewer not want to scream throughout the experience. 

The most interesting aspect of the film is the Adam and Eve element that’s supposed to be embodied (in conception if not necessarily execution) by Paul and Jenny.  They are literally reborn into a new world of which they have no knowledge.  They are supposed to be the saviors of the human race or the progenitors of a new, “clean” (read: non-irradiated) race (the only conceivable reason to put your scion into cryogenic suspension during a nuclear war; it’s not as if the world is going to become more hospitable down the road from there).  The young couple transform from beings of innocence (which is not strictly true, since they went to sleep as young adults) into beings formed (one could say corrupted) by the world in which they find themselves.  The knowledge gained is beneficial for survival but not necessarily “good” since it brings with it much suffering.  Thankfully, the film does its best to ease the pain (for the audience, at any rate), so no harm, no foul.

MVT:  The earnest attitude of the filmmakers is reflected in every frame of the film, and, I have to say, it is infectious.

Make or Break:  I can’t give out details, but the Make is the scene where our group meets up with a gang of rebels.   It’s actually shocking for what’s revealed in the action as well as how this affects our protagonists.             
       
Score:  6.25/10