The fatal head shot

INTERVIEW WITH THE ASSASSIN (2002)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia 

(Written in 2003)

I first discovered the potential conspiracy in JFK's murder when I viewed (many years ago) "The Man Who Saw Tomorrow," a watchable pseudo-documentary of the prophecies of Nostradamus. They show one shot inside of a bush of what looked like the outline of an assassin. Of course, we know by now that any other assassins might have been behind the fence near the grassy knoll. Then there was Oliver Stone's highly controversial "J.F.K," which looked at all the conspiracy theories and made a tapestry of them as evidence. As of 2003, fastly approaching the 40th anniversary of Kennedy's assassination, we only have more theories and possibilities. I am convinced that Lee Harvey Oswald did not act alone, others argue that he did. "Interview With the Assassin" posits that a second gunman may have existed and is ready to convince the world he took out the President with the famous bloody head shot.

Journeyman actor Raymond J. Barry plays Walter Ohlinger, a lonely man who is slowly dying of cancer. He wants to tell the story of an extraordinary crime to Ron Kobeleski (Dylan Haggerty), an unemployed TV cameraman. Walter begins to tell the chilling tale that he is the second gunman behind the grassy knoll that shot Kennedy. Ron disbelieves him at first, but becomes convinced when Walter shows him the shell casing of the bullet. Ron is more convinced when Walter takes him on a plane trip to Dealey Plaza and shows him the exact location behind the fence of the grassy knoll. We also see an X marked on the road where the fatal head shot occurred. But is Walter truly the second gunman, or is he a man seeking attention? On the pursuit for a sickly Marine named John Seymour who will provide proof, we see John laying on the hospital bed unable to move. He calls Walter a sick man who was once institutionalized. Could Seymour be covering up the facts or is it the truth?

"Interview with the Assassin" makes you ponder if such a man would ever give himself up, claiming to be something that would gain a lot of notoriety after 40 years. On the other hand, so many witnesses have been killed or died under mysterious circumstances that there are probably few people alive who could back up such a story. Would Walter be seen as a loon or would he be taken seriously by the media? Who knows. Director Neil Burger (in his directorial debut) certainly holds our interest without ever revealing too much. Like most good films, we have to arrive at our own conclusions in determining Walter's sanity, and thus Ron's as well.

Shot on digital video, which brings verisimilitude to the proceedings (as intended), "Interview with the Assassin" is often realistic and tightly controlled. Even implausible sequences (such as Walter meeting with the current President of the U.S.) are unnerving and nail-biting. The whole film is the equivalent of a docu-thriller, exercising the video medium and exploiting for all it is worth. But what makes the film truly work is Raymond Barry's performance as the detached, hard-nosed Walter. His every move and imposing physicality make us believe that this man could be an assassin, even if he may not have killed Kennedy. He keeps us guessing right until the end. Intensely compelling at a swift 85 minute running time, "Interview with the Assassin" is often believable and frightening. For all JFK conspiracy theorists out there, this film will lend further credibility to their cause. And just who was that second gunman?

A pissin', poopin' punk rocker

HATED (1994)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

For sheer exploitation and uneven shock value, "Hated" is one shockumentary to end all shockumentaries. It is beyond shock value, it is a repellent, disgusting foray into the life of a man who remains as enigmatic as Oskar Schindler.

G.G. Allin, who died in 1993 of a drug overdose, was not just any punk rock musician - he took the limits of a live performance beyond what almost any musician would ever dare or attempt on stage. G.G. would relieve himself on stage, eat his own feces, pummel his forehead with a microphone, insert bananas in his ass, batter and provoke the audience members, and in general cause havoc and sometimes actual riots (he also managed to sing some of his own songs during his violent outbursts). He would often be arrested for his obscene behavior at every performance, thus allowing him to state that the country is trying to get rid of good old rock n'roll.

G.G. explains his reasons for such extreme behavior, albeit rather ambiguous reasons. G.G. claims he is trying to bring back the danger in rock and roll. But is this not punk rock music? And since when does bodily fluids and punching your fans in the face constitute as anything more than sheer stupidity? And you thought Sid Vicious went too far! Is it no wonder that G.G. was arrested?

"Hated" has a few interviews with the people in G.G.'s life, including G.G.'s brother (who seems saner and is a member of the Murder Junkies band), his pals from high school, schoolteachers, former band members repulsed by his behavior, and a major fan who read about G.G's high-wire antics in an ad and said, "Yeah, this is cool. That is punk rock."

"Hated" succeeds in being shocking but there is relatively scant insight into the man. As a band member states, "Society has no place for G.G." If that is so, then how does G.G. feel about himself? He hates everybody but does he hate himself? Does someone have to hate themselves to perform outrageous acts of indecency? And what exactly does G.G. think he is accomplishing on stage? Is his feeling of a sick society reflected in the fact that he can punch one of his fans in the face and they keep coming back for more by standing up and cheering him on? Perhaps, but what is so rebellious about taking a dump and then eating it? Divine got there first in 1972 on celluloid, but so what? That we are all animals? I would have liked to have seen G.G. talk about his performance strategy and what he is trying to convey, if anything, through his music. All I understood was that G.G. was the ultimate shock rebel and likes to roam from city to city with a paper bag and the same pair of clothes, but like all artists whose sole intent is to shock, what is G.G. rebelling against? His only intent seems to be to provoke people, angering them and turning them against themselves. There is a segment showing an early performance where he provokes a woman and ends up hitting her.

Directed by Todd Phillips (who went on to make gross-out comedies like "The Hangover"), "Hated" is often compelling but it succeeds more as pure shock value than as an insightful, illuminating portrait of a madman on and off the stage.

Kevin is a MeanFella

HOME ALONE 2: LOST IN NEW YORK (1992)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Home Alone 2" is something of an anomaly - a highly contrived, sickeningly (and cartoonishly) violent sequel that has little of the charm of the box-office original. That in and of itself isn't anomalous - but the fact is some things do work in this sequel. It does have some laughs (and repeats certain gags from the original) but it is so dour and overcooked that it leaves one with a bad taste. That's the anomaly.

There is nothing that separates "Home Alone 2" from the original, including the change of setting. The problem is he is not home alone anymore, he is just simply lost in New York. Kevin (Macaulay Culkin) is the little tyke who is separated from his parents (John Heard, Catherine O'Hara) at the airport. The family is headed to Florida for Christmas yet Kevin inadvertently ends up on a flight to New York (I suppose such a contrived idea wouldn't work in this post-9/11 environment). So, for even more contrived reasons, Kevin encounters the two bumbling crooks from the original again (Joe Pesci, Daniel Stern) and foils each of their attempts to snatch him with elaborate, Rube Goldberg contraptions that no eight-year-old kid could ever devise.

Kevin stays at the Plaza Hotel and meets Donald Trump; a kind toy shop owner; a homeless woman known as the Pigeon Lady (Brenda Fricker); and a suspicious hotel clerk (Tim Curry). And as for getting lost in New York, well, Kevin seems to know his way around the Plaza Hotel, Carnegie Hall and Rockefeller Center since those are the only major New York locations we see in the entire film.

I first saw this film in 1992, and thought it was mildly entertaining but something nagged me about it. I realized after the screening that I did not feel comfortable watching it. When I saw it again, I knew it was the heavy cartoonish violence that turned me off. For a movie that promotes the goodwill of mankind around the holiday season, there is an awful lot of violence that will make you cringe. Kevin gives advice to the Pigeon Lady about the meaning of life, and then he throws a brick from the top of an apartment building and hits Daniel Stern on the head. Not once, not twice, but at least a few times. The movie gets off on excessive violence that surpasses the original and tries to sell you a Christmas homily as a catharsis - it is a convenient way for families who see this movie to make them forget Kevin's sadistic side. I don't know about you but I don't want to know what Kevin will be like when he enters his teen years.

AHHHHHH!

HOME ALONE (1990)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia 

(Review originally written in 2001) 

I still don't get how "Home Alone" became one of the biggest moneymakers in box-office history. That
little tyke, Kevin (Macaulay Culkin), somehow touched a nerve with the American public and with his
less-than-frustrating attempts to booby trap two thieves while stuck home alone. The movie never
appealed to me but it is still a harmless kid's movie where the kids champion over the adults - a theme
that Culkin repeated too many times before escaping into oblivion.

As the movie opens, we are introduced to Kevin who is obnoxious and wishes his family would disappear. It is Christmas time and hardly the appropriate thing to say to your mother (played by Catherine O'Hara). She tells Kevin to go the attic and sleep there. Meanwhile, the whole family sleep away downstairs, ready for their plane trip the next day to Paris. The next morning, they leave in vans sans Kevin who has overslept. Kevin awakens, walks around the house looking for his family and then delights in that his wish came true. He eats junk food like there is no tomorrow, watches television all day, orders pizza, goes grocery shopping, and so on. But trouble threatens this paradise as he discovers that two burglars (Joe Pesci and Daniel Stern) are ready to steal valuables from his house. So Kevin actually manages to outwit and outmaneuver the burglars using enough booby traps to make Indiana Jones sweat.

"Home Alone" is directed by Chris Columbus and written by John Hughes, and one senses that the movie is a curiously uneasy mixture of family homilies and cartoonish violence. The movie wants to sell the idea that families do matter and Kevin learns this lesson from a mysterious neighbor who is named the "Snow Shovel Murderer" by the neighborhood kids. All of this is as thematically rich as a Lifetime movie but Hughes spends the second half of the film glorifying in some heavy violence, including the use of flame retardants on people's heads, nails used as weapons, refrigerators flung like box cartons, people falling and landing with Dolby-ized thuds, and so many examples of torture that I began to wonder what children are supposed to feel when they watch all this. Should they cheer Kevin on or should they feel repulsed by his actions? Of course, in the real world, Kevin would likely call the cops or 911 as most kids are trained to when confronted with danger in their own home. The world of this movie is a cartoon where an 8-year-old is omnipotent and can perform improbable stunts that would make Wilie E. Coyote blush.

I am not snickering at the movie because it is enjoyable enough overall and Culkin does wonders with his character of the all-powerful Kevin who cannot be outwitted. I also enjoyed Catherine O'Hara as the worrisome mother who flies back to Chicago and encounters a polka band leader (played by the late John Candy). Pesci and Stern make a great comic team and have some frighteningly funny moments. I am just not sure about Hughes's intentions with "Home Alone" when selling the idea of a unified, picture postcard family crossed with over-the-top violence. Think about it.

Dracula and Frankenstein's Monster at the beach

DRACULA V.S FRANKENSTEIN (1971)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia 

I have seen my share of absolute garbage at the cinema and on video but never have I been privy to such an absolute waste of celluloid as Al Adamson's "Dracula v.s. Frankenstein." It is the kind of film that makes Ed Wood look like Orson Welles.

And now that we are on to the subject of Welles, how would he have felt if he had seen this? Well, consider that one of the directors of photography of this tripe is none other than Gary Graver, who had worked closely with Welles from 1970 till the late master's death. The other cinematographer is Paul Glickman who later lensed films such as "God Told Me To" and "The Stuff." I am not sure whose fault it is but almost all of the photography is rendered so darkly that it is hard to make out what is happening (especially the climactic fight between the two horror titans). Some other scenes are so haphazardly composed that you sense a group of film school students shot it. I suppose it is more proof that Welles was behind the compositions and photography of his later work such as "F For Fake" as much as Graver was.

The story behind this time waster is more entertaining than the movie itself. The late director Adamson had no clue what footage he shot, and spent two years trying to assemble it and make some sense out of it. Originally titled "Blood Seekers" or "Blood Freaks," it did not even have the two titled monsters at all until the last minute. They probably thought, hey, let's title it "Dracula vs. Frankenstein" and we are guaranteed box-office revenues at the local drive-in.

There is J. Carroll Naish as a wheelchaired Dr. Durea, also known as the last of the Frankensteins. Poor Lon Chaney Jr., in his last film appearance, is bloated and obviously drunk (or seriously ill) as Groton, Durea's punch-drunk, idiotic assistant who goes around decapitating young women at Venice Beach (under Durea's control of course). Zandor Vorkov is the bearded Count Dracula who looks likes a frequent guest at Chiller Theatre - he is seeking a blood serum that Durea has. Oh, how can we forget Frankenstein's Monster (John Bloom) who is brought back to life for no discernible reason or purpose within the sloppily patched together story. There is also the late Regina Carrol (Al Adamson's wife) as a Vegas showgirl searching for her sister who was last seen at the beach! Oh, and there is a love interest known as Mike (Anthony Eisley) who has the hots for Carrol and appears to be an aging hippie! And how about Russ Tamblyn as a rough biker (you must be joking!) Another biker with a swastika patch (quite common in those days)! Angelo Rossitto (memorable in Tod Browning's "Freaks") as a ticket-taker who charges one dollar for admission at a creature emporium and then eats the bill! And, last but not least, Forrest J. Ackerman as a Dr. Beaumont who appears in a cameo and is then killed by the Monster, again for no discernible reason.

"Dracula vs. Frankenstein" might have seemed like good fun at the drive-ins in the early 70's for the teenage couples. I am sure it was more fun for them while making out than watching such garbage transpire before their very eyes.

A Housing Crisis in Figgis Land

COLD CREEK MANOR (2003)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia 

"Cold Creek Manor" has an impressive cast and director. Mike Figgis, the gifted
stylistic poet of jazzy atmospheres where downtrodden people reside, directs
one of his first major Hollywood productions in almost a decade. The cast
includes Dennis Quaid, Sharon Stone, Juliette Lewis and the lecherous Stephen
Dorff. Impressive, indeed, at least on paper. 

I think that if a director is going to do a mainstream flick in the thriller genre, he ought to know a few minor details. One is that atmosphere can only account for so much, especially seedy bars (a Figgis staple). Another is that when snakes are placed strategically inside a manor, the actors should know how to react without making the audience giggle. Also keep in mind that if you have a man who has no scruples or morals, he can still seem like a man if you bring some level of humanity - shedding tears on occasion will not mean much if he is nothing less than a remorseless killer spouting obligatory one-liners in the final reel. When the best performance in the film is a drunk Juliette Lewis who seems to have drifted in from Figgis's own "Leaving Las Vegas," then you know that either a.) you cast the wrong actors as the family to root for, or b.) Figgis has no business making mediocre thrillers like this. Lastly, remember that a suspense thriller, even on a psychological level, should have some degree of suspense. A crazily melodramatic piano and strings score won't cut it when it makes you laugh.A dead horse in a pool can only manage a mild shock.

Everything that happens in "Cold Creek Manor" occurs at the screenplay's convenience. Watching Sharon Stone getting pushed around by Juliette Lewis stretches credibility. A bedridden Christopher Plummer can work wonders, but never share the same scene with Mr. Dorff. And watching Mr. Dorff punch Juliette in the mouth while she insists to her sister, a sheriff, that it was accidental is really stretching the reality barrier. I know these things happen, but in a bar where there are many witnesses? Call it denial and, in Hollywood's case, a denial of reality. Besides, that dusty old manor just doesn't make me jump.

Spins a web, lands with a thud

THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN (2012)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Only ten years after the first of the Sam Raimi-directed trilogy of everyone's favorite webslinger comes an unnecessary reboot (remake to the rest of you). Nitpickers and Marvel comic-book historians will note that Spider-Man has had his own trippy cartoon adventures in the 60's; an insufferably boring live-action TV series in the 70's; more reboots in animated form up until present day 2012; and finally the proper live-action Sam Raimi trilogy with Tobey Maguire as Peter Parker and Kirsten Dunst as Mary Jane Watson. Now comes this new version that goes back to the origin story. So, how is it, Mr. Saravia? It isn't bad at all, has some extra character dimensions for Peter, but it is also an uninspired new take with little of the color or variety or splash that Sam Raimi brought to the Marvel hero.

First problem is the casting of Andrew Garfield, last seen in the overrated and almost unwatchably self-conscious "The Social Network" (I liked it but I recommend it with very strong reservations). Garfield is better as a web-slinging- throwing-one-liners-at-a-fast-clip Spider-Man than at playing the insular, angst-ridden Peter Parker. My impression of Peter from the comics was not that he was angst-ridden or insular - it was as if he had to hold back his emotions and still remain jocular (something Tobey Maguire did perfectly). Garfield's Peter is too remote and aloof - something more suited for Bruce Wayne than a web-slinger. So when Spider-Man first approaches the criminals, the jokeyness and sass do not match the Peter Parker of Forest Hills, Queens. There is a divide and clash of personalities here - and it is hard to fathom what Garfield is doing under that mask (which of course means the spider suit could have been worn by anyone who imitated a spider's walk). 

Emma Stone is far more interesting  as Gwen Stacy - she has a magnetism that outshines almost everything else. She also shares one or two delightful moments with Denis Leary who plays her father, Captain Stacy. Sally Field displays a caring Aunt May but she is not someone I pictured in the role either. Martin Sheen is always a competent performer but he lacks some of the poignance that the late Cliff Robertson had as Uncle Ben. And we have a new villain, the Lizard, who looks like a mini-Godzilla that tears apart the Williamsburg Bridge in one hair-raising scene. Dr. Curt Connors (Rhys Fans) is the geneticist with one arm who becomes the Lizard, though his performance is short-shrift when compared to Raimi's expanded take on Spidey's villains in films past. The Lizard is no Doc Ock or Green Goblin, and hardly as engaging.

"The Amazing Spider-Man" is uninspired, half-hearted and overlong. Though I liked discovering about Peter Parker's parents and felt the chemical mystery of love between Garfield and Stone, the rest of the movie is a carbon copy of what we have seen already. The special-effects are fine and the web-slinger still looks thrilling when swinging around New York City, but there is no joy or sureness to it and it is all frankly too downbeat (director Marc Webb crudely aims for Nolan grit). It looks and feels like a Xerox copy with a far too agitated Peter Parker than we have seen before. That just made me agitated.