Rest assured, it is only a movie

THE LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT (1972)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

As pure, unmitigated horror, "Last House on the Left" often succeeds but it is lacking a central aspect in any horror film - sympathy for the victims tormented by the evil. In this case, the victims are giggling, marihuana-stoked teenage girls (Sandra Cassel, Lucy Grantham) who are on their way to New York City to see the band, Blood Lust ("They dismember chickens".) They stop in the city looking to score some pot when they inadvertently hook up with three psychos, the oily Krug (David Hess), the bland Weasel (Fred J. Lincoln), the scared Junior Stillo (Marc Sheffler) and the potty-mouthed Sadie (Jeramie Stillo).

"Last House on the Left" starts off badly for the first hour with horrendous acting and even worse cinematography making it appear as if it were an Afterschool Special. The film improves when the victims are forced to have sexual intercourse, bludgeoned, and then stabbed out in the woods where nobody can hear them. The actual process by which the psychotic group makes these victims suffer is unsettling and reinforces, I think, Wes Craven's initial theme - to make us act with revulsion at the violence taking place from real-life murderers, not bogeymen. There is even a moment when the killers look at themselves with disgust after stabbing one girl who attempted to run away. Unfortunately, Craven hardly makes us care for either of the victims and so it makes it harder to have any sympathy.

Then the film takes a curious turn and, by sheer coincidence, there is a spin of events involving one girl's parents who happen to live near the woodsy area where the crimes took place. The killers pretend to be religious students whose car broke down. The parents take them in, before realizing who they are. All of this is very loosely based on Ingmar Bergman's fabulously beautiful masterpiece, "The Virgin Spring," which at least developed its characters amidst a powerful theme involving God and why He lets these things happen. Craven's film hardly merits that much scrutiny.

"Last House on the Left" was released back in 1972 and was considered so intense that they almost did not release it. Craven found some leader with an R rating on it and released the film. It is still banned in the UK, Australia, and New Zealand. Although it has some intense moments, it is not nearly as good as "The Hills Have Eyes" or any of the director's later films. Its revenge plot lacks thrust and significance and is handled all too crudely and quickly (there is a chainsaw fight, an oral sex act that goes horribly wrong, and so on). The songs played on the soundtrack are played at the most inappropriate moments and detract from whatever tension there is. And some silly slapstick involving two bumbling cops does not help matters either (one of them is Martin Kove, later the memorable villain in "Rambo: First Blood II" and "The Karate Kid"). An interesting debut from horrormeister Wes and its supposed intentions and form of inspiration are admirable, but there is precious little to recommend.

Rock Star Walking in the clouds

MAN ON WIRE (2008)

Reviewed By Jerry Saravia

I used to live in New York City and was always petrified of the World Trade Center. I had walked through the lobby once but I never ascended to any of the 110 floors of these former capitalist towers. It had a lot to do with my fear of heights, I imagine, so I approached this documentary "Man on Wire" with a certain trepidation knowing it is about a man who walked on a wire suspended across the two towers. I had nothing to fear because "Man on Wire" is an exceptionally thrilling and wondrous documentary - a tale told with such vigor and with such breathless beauty, you'll be speechless for days, even months.

Philippe Petit is the famous French wire walker who managed to do something that no one has ever attempted, no less surpassed. On a slightly windy, cloudy day on August 7, 1974, Petit and a few people on his crew suspended a wire across the Two Towers so that Petit could walk across. Apparently, this was an early dream that took place in a dentist's office where he saw a magazine article on the future construction of these towering giants. All Petit knew was that he had to walk across them, like floating on air. Petit was already walking on wires suspended across the Notre Dame Cathedral and the Sydney Harbor Bridge and made a name for himself but the WTC is an incomparable and seemingly improbable stunt.

James Marsh's "Man on Wire" shows the dedication of its high-wire act and participant Petit, as he breaks down all the nooks and crannies of this stunt. How will they get into the WTC? What sort of disguises will they wear, and how do they acquire proper fake ID's? Most importantly, how in creation will they suspend this wire across these two towers that are diagonally parallel to each other? (A fact I had almost forgotten).

The movie is full of black-and-white footage that looks like it was cribbed from a 1970's heist movie - of course, it isn't but director Marsh does a stellar job of blending fake footage with real color footage shot by Petit and his then-girlfriend. As for the heist connection, the movie operates on the level of a high-stakes heist thriller though nothing is actually being stolen. Instead, something is being given - a gift for New Yorkers of someone literally walking in the clouds.

"Man on Wire" is not a normal documentary - it almost transcends the form. It is told with such panache that it seems more like a thriller, particularly in its detailing of the ins and outs of this grand wirewalking event. It also conveys the spirited mood and ambition of a young man eager to perform something so awe-inspiring, individualistic and so dangerous, it could only be done once. Some viewers have complained about Petit having a fling with some anonymous, adoring female fan while committed to his former girlfriend. That hardly matters in my mind because he was exalted by someone and took advantage. Philippe Petit was the rock star of the heavens.

It is all strictly hush-hush

L.A. CONFIDENTIAL (1997)

An Appreciation By Jerry Saravia
 (Originally written in 1997)

"L.A. Confidential" is the densest and most complex crime film since "Chinatown." It is richly satisfying, brutally compelling and slickly acted and directed, and one of the best films of 1997. Having seen it numerous times, it never fails to engage or surprise me each time.

Based on James Ellroy's novel, "L.A. Confidential" is set during the early 1950's when L.A. was the mythical "city of angels" where nuclear families existed, orange groves filled the countryside, and movie stars and celebrities were in the spotlight. It was also a time when police corruption was rampant and racism was beginning to boil over everywhere. Guy Pearce stars as a young cop, Exley, who is eager to become a detective in the very corrupt police system because he believes that a cop should have strong morals and values and follow rules by-the-book - he doesn't believe in beating a confession out of a suspect. Russell Crowe stars as the tough detective White who is just the opposite - he beats confessions out of suspects, he beats up abusive men involved in drunken domestic violence cases, etc. The unlikely pair become embroiled in a murder case at an all-night diner where a cop was killed - a group of inner-city blacks may have been responsible. It turns out they may have been set up by someone in the police force, but who? The brutal Irish police captain (James Cromwell) is unsure of Exley's capacity as a detective especially since Exley ratted out all the cops who beat up a few illegal Mexican immigrants. Exley is hated by everyone in the force but does he have the guts to deal with everyday brutality?

Then there's Det. Jack Vincennes (Kevin Spacey), a charming, impish cop who takes extra cash on the side whenever he provides tip-offs or juicy details within the department to the unctuous Sid Huggens (Danny DeVito), a reporter who writes for "Hush, Hush," a scandal magazine that offers gossip and crimes sold to the public for thrills like today's tabloid shows. Vincennes also moonlights as a technical adviser for a TV show called "Badge of Honor" (a nod to "Dragnet"). Meanwhile, as the murder case unfolds, White discovers a connection to a sultry call girl, Lynn Bracken (the better-than-ever Kim Basinger) who works for a prosperous pimp (David Strathairn) - he provides a very kinky service where women are "cut" to resemble movie stars such as Veronica Lake. White interrogates Lynn and falls in love with her, but is Exley interested in her too?

"L.A. Confidential" is an amazing movie full of plot twists, dozens of subplots, and numerous vignettes. Director Curtis Hanson (who co-wrote the script with Brian Helgeland) provides a dazzling ride making us feel as if we have been transported back into the 1950's as he unravels the web of corruption that leads from the police department to politicians, criminals, pimps, mobsters and the traditional femme fatale. Still, this movie is not quite film noir because we have two traditional heroes, the handsome Exley and the rugged White, who overcome all odds and find the killers (I just won't tell you who the culprit is). The film is not quite on the level of "Chinatown" but it is a more vivid experience than the fatuous "Cop Land" that came out the same year.

"L.A. Confidential" has one of the best ensemble casts for a crime epic: we have the witty, reliable Danny DeVito and Kevin Spacey; the effervescent cool of Guy Pearce as Exley who undergoes a transformation in the movie that is thrilling to watch, and the contemplative, explosive nature of White as played by the magnetic Russell Crowe (both are Australian actors). Kim Basinger is at her best here since "Batman" with an alluring and sensitive side that brings enormous pathos to her character.

"L.A. Confidential" is a fast-paced, cynical, dirty, violent, mean and thoroughly entertaining tapestry of a different period where innocence was more prevalent yet underneath, corruption and evil still roamed the streets.

Kubrick taunts Shelley Duvall

MAKING 'THE SHINING' (1980)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Stanley Kubrick is one of the great enigmatic directors of the 20th century. Who was this genius that produced such masterfully realized works of art such as "2001: A Space Odyssey," "A Clockwork Orange," or "Barry Lyndon"? This rarely seen documentary, shot by Kubrick's daughter, Vivian, documents some of the events of shooting the uneven, controversial horror flick "The Shining." It may not shed much light on the legendary director, but it does offer a glimpse of what he was like behind the scenes.

The beginning of the documentary (now on the video and DVD re-released versions of "The Shining") plays like a home movie with Vivian following Jack Nicholson into the bathroom while he brushes his teeth. We see Jack prepping himself for a scene where, as Jack Torrance, he tears through a door with an axe pursuing his family and taunting them with quotes from "Three Little Pigs." Then there is Kubrick, wearing a winter jacket, yelling cut during a scene where Danny (Danny Lloyd) hides inside a compartment from maniacal Jack. To me, it was a pleasure to hear this man speak with an ever-so-slight English accent (hardly a trace of his Bronx roots).

There are strong revelations for what must have been an arduous, long shoot for a horror movie. There is the sense that Kubrick is tough-as-nails on Shelley Duvall, always taunting her and acting totally unsympathetic to her mood swings (at one point, she pulls out strands of hair, showing them to Stanley whose only response is, "I have no sympathy for Shelley.") There is one tense scene where Shelley misses her cue when they yell action during a faux snowstorm scene and Stanley races frantically and argues with her vehemently.

Kubrick is apparently respectful of Jack and only suggests he acts wilder and meaner (I have heard reports of Jack being used for lighting tests when in fact a stand-in is ordinarily used). A scene shows Kubrick's mother seated at a table with Stanley and Jack as they discuss the constant script revisions from day to day. Naturally, Shelley is nowhere to be found. She does freely admit that she admired him for his tenacity and perfectionism, claiming to have learned more from him than from any other prior film production. Meanwhile, Jack concludes that working with Stanley is exciting for him as an actor because the director has his own agenda for making personal films, even if Jack does not always agree with him.

There are also brief, pointed interviews with Scatman Crothers (who of course played Halloran, the cook), shown weeping for joy as he mentions how beautiful the crew was to work with and how he saw Danny as his own child, and the tyke Danny Lloyd who mentions how he is smart and likes to make home movies with his less-than-receptive friends. Kubrick himself is not interviewed but it is fun to see him at work, especially when he devises a low-angle shot of Jack to enhance the tension of the scene where Jack tries to con Shelley into letting him out of a storage room.

"Making 'The Shining'" could have been longer and shed more light on the master director at work, but it is a fitting, exemplary documentary of a man whose impeccable sense of craft and direction exemplified his status as one of America's leading cinematic artists. Essential viewing for any film buff or aficionado of Kubrick.

Dry Rio Bravo take with sci-fi overtones

COWBOYS AND ALIENS (2011)

Reviewed By Jerry Saravia

Never before have I seen a movie title that distills exactly what one should expect...and provide no background for the simple and simpleminded title. "Cowboys and Aliens" is an absolute bore of a movie - a crossbreed (mashup to the rest of you) of two genres, the Western and science-fiction, to less than spectacular effect. The title sells the movie's few rudimentary pleasures but its tone is at once joyless and indistinguishable from anything else.

Daniel Craig is a fierce, rugged thief who wakes up in the middle of the Arizona desert with complete amnesia. He wears a wrist contraption that looks alien to any 1870's prison shackles. He arrives in the town of Absolution, ruffles some feathers with a gun-toting young cowboy (Paul Dano, in the most animated performance in the movie), is imprisoned since he is on a Most Wanted list, ruffles more feathers with a cattle baron (Harrison Ford, in a performance that is the very definition of gruff) and, before one can say "High Noon," spaceships appear from the night sky and practically blow up the entire town. These ships also fire lassos that wrap themselves around an unlucky number of Absolution's finest and place them inside the vessels. This is definitely a nod to "War of the Worlds."

The tone of this murky film already put me off by the time Craig's character shows up in town. Who is this guy? We never quite find out aside from the fact that he is a wanted man and had a woman in his life who was abducted by aliens - he is practically an amnesiac from first frame to last. Ford's mean baron gives the legendary actor a chance to shake his heroic charisma but the character is still something of a cipher.

As a western, this mediocre movie moves at a snail's pace. Things do not get livelier with Olivia Wilde as a town prostitute who is not what she appears to be. Keith Carradine comes off best as a reluctant sheriff but he doesn't have enough screen time. Same with the fantastic presence of Clancy Brown as a gun-toting preacher, but he's gone before one can get accustomed to his colorful character. And when the vicious aliens do attack (who are interested in gold in the movie's only novel touch of irony), the film's action moves and radiates with no friction, no surprise, no tension. Since we can't care about the one-dimensional cowboys, cattle barons and thieves who display the bare minimum of character shadings, how can we care about explosions and cowboys on horseback being chased by these ships?

The aliens are large, freakish beasts that look like they can tear apart any puny human just by the touch of their fingernails, yet Ford can strike them on the head with anything at his disposal including his rifle and the aliens fall to the ground a little easily. It is that kind of movie, stunningly photographed, but it is not much fun and hardly memorable.  

Momma Beheaded by a Basketball

DEADLY FRIEND (1986)

Reviewed By Jerry Saravia

Shortly after Wes Craven's "A Nightmare on Elm Street" came "Deadly Friend," an awkward hybrid of a teenage romantic comedy and gory horror film which unfortunately misses the mark. It did not do much for Craven's reputation or for audiences, and the results are middling at best.

Matthew Laborteaux is Paul, a 15-year-old scientific whiz kid who is also an innovative inventor. He has just moved to a new small town with his mother to study artificial intelligence at a prestigious university. Paul has a robotic companion named BeeBee who is operated by remote control. Life seems pleasant until Paul meets his next-door neighbor, Samantha (Kristy Swanson), who is physically abused by her father. Before you can say "Are we watching a John Hughes flick?", Samantha is tragically killed and BeeBee is blown to bits by a shotgun-wielding neighbor (Anne Ramsey). Paul decides to bring back Samantha by implanting a chip in her head, which miraculously brings her back to life (without benefit of an electrical charge!) The problem is that Samantha resembles a Gothic robot or ghoul from "Night of the Living Dead," and she begins to kill those who have treated her badly in the past. Not exactly what Paul had in mind.

For the first half-hour, "Deadly Friend" almost works and aims to be a charming, tongue-in-cheek teenage version of "The Bride of Frankenstein." Unfortunately, the relationship between Paul and Samantha is so undeveloped that she becomes a rampaging monster before we even to get to know her. The only thing Paul admires about Samantha are her breasts. There are too many plot holes as well, such as the remote control's inability to stop BeeBee or Samantha from progressing towards danger. Maybe Paul just needs new batteries in uneventful emergencies. Then there are a few nightmare sequences that must have been added due to Craven's success with the original "Elm Street." The film nicely sets up some ideas and characters and then chucks them all out the window in favor of a gory horror pic. What you can say about a film when the most talked-about scene involves a novel beheading by a basketball!

"Deadly Friend" was Craven's biggest studio film at the time, but it was obviously taken away from his hands by the producers. Underwritten characters, illogical plot twists and gratuitous gore only cheapen what might have been an inspired idea.

Parker's unflattering and sleep-inducing auditions

ELLIE PARKER (2005)

Reviewed By Jerry Saravia

"Ellie Parker" is a self-indulgent disaster - a movie about an actor's endless journey through casting auditions. Though it has Naomi Watts before her "Mulholland Dr." success, it features scant evidence of anything other than Watts's ability to transport herself into any kind of role.

Naomi Watts plays an actress, Ellie Parker, who goes from one audition to another and never quite gets anywhere. Of course, this tale is set in Hollywood, the land where you are either a waiter/waitress or an actor/actress (or an executive producer if you have no talent). One terrific scene shows Ellie leaving one audition where she played a Southern gal to another where she has to audition as a loveless slut. She changes her clothes while driving, practicing obscene lines with a Bronx accent.

Ellie's life is essentially an audition as well, an audition to find her identity. She loses focus and forgets why she ever wanted to be an actress. She has a boyfriend who has affairs, she sees a therapist, has a best friend and fellow actress who steals from antique stores, and not much else. One day, she has an encounter where she crashes into the car of a cinematographer (Scott Coffey). Of course, this cinematographer is not what he seems.

"Ellie Parker" was shot on a mini-DV camcorder with a constant hand-heldedness that might give you a migraine. I do not admonish anyone for using digital video (heck, George Lucas used it for the "Star Wars" prequel trilogy) but I do admonish anyone who can't hold the camera still for more than a few seconds. The technique works wonders sometimes, particularly a superbly funny and horrifying scene where Ellie and her friend test each other to see who can fake tears the fastest. Most of the time, the movie strains to be seen, fixating on unflattering close-ups of Watts' blonde hair and so on. Maybe the point is to show how unglamorous the life of a struggling actress can be, but a little stabilization with the camera wouldn't have hurt.

"Ellie Parker" first breathed life as a 15-minute short, later expanded over the years by writer-director Scott Coffey as a feature-length film. The problem is the movie coasts along on nothing more than Ellie's complaints about her self and self-worth without much introspection - she is simply an annoyance. Instead of depth of character, we get an unnecessary club scene where a practically unrecognizable Keanu Reeves appears; an inexplicable scene set inside a zoo; blue ice cream dripping from Ellie's lips; Chevy Chase as Ellie's agent; an unwatchable acting exercise; some moronic, zonked-out artists who are producing a movie they don't care about, and so on. Most of the goings-on seem dull and superfluous, saying little about Ellie Parker. Naomi Watts' breakout role in "Mulholland Dr." where she played a similar actress who has one outstanding audition said more about Hollywood and working actresses than anything in the vapid, interminable "Ellie Parker."