Just the two of us, Mikey and Laurie

HALLOWEEN (2018)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

The "Halloween" series has held a certain fascination with me, I suppose, because every harebrained sequel had the potential to transcend its slasher film cliches. It is easy to forget that the original 1978 shocker, "Halloween," was shocking because of its claustrophobic atmosphere that assumed something more supernatural than the surface reality of another horror thriller about a masked killer (this was before slasher was applied to a disreputable genre where slashing teens became the focus). The young high-school students had a cloud of ambition about them - they were not just disposable, bubble-gum brained girls who had nothing but sex and Mary Jane on their minds (though of course that is mostly what they talk about). There was something cheerfully innocent about them, not knowing what horror awaits. That coupled with the obsessed psychiatrist, Dr. Loomis (Donald Pleasance), who sensed dread was on its way with his runaway patient and mute killer himself, Michael Myers, and an ending that still sends shivers down my spine. None of the sequels matched the original in any aspect but I kept hoping. "Halloween," which arrived in 2018 with no Roman Numerals, discards all sequels and is a purposely direct descendant of the original. Unfortunately, despite some of its strengths, it is occasionally a run-of-the-mill sequel.

Silver-haired Laurie Strode (Jamie Lee Curtis) is back, though now she is an embittered woman and survivalist living in a gated house that is more like a death trap. She is awaiting the day that Mikey Myers escapes and comes after her - she wants to kill him for good and ever. Of course, during a transition to another mental institution by bus, Mikey kills everyone and escapes on Halloween night, eager to obtain his famous William Shatner mask and kill, kill, kill. One truly astounding sequence filmed in an unbroken take has Michael entering two different houses where he acquires a hammer and a knife and brutally kills a couple of unsuspecting women. This sequence reminds one of the haunting sense of menace that Michael has - he lurks, hides in the shadows, and pounces when least expected. It is amazing that nobody has captured that sense of evil in so long. There is also a sequence involving a young kid on a lawn as the lights go off and on and Michael slowly approaches his prey.

"Halloween" has a strong opening with an exacting purpose, that is two British journalists with a podcast who want to interview Laurie Strode and find out what Michael Myers tick. Unfortunately, these characters quickly evaporate and we get an elongated, frustratingly dull excursion into Laurie's granddaughter, Allyson (Andi Matichak), and her escapades with a cheating boyfriend at a Halloween rave party - you'll feel you have entered some teenage rom-com for a minute. We also get a silly inclusion of a Dr. Loomis-type psychiatrist, Dr. Sartain (Haluk Bilginer), who is a little too taken with Michael. On a positive note there is the vivid presence of Will Patton as a frustrated police officer who's on screen for what regrettably amounts to nothing more than a cameo. What I imagine a lot of fans expected, myself included, was the solid return of Laurie Strode and her revenge for what Mikey did to her friends 40 years earlier. Jamie Lee Curtis has such a remarkable turn as Laurie, full of pathos and nuanced with grief over the years she prepared herself and her family for the inevitable (Judy Greer is given short-shrift as her daughter), and yet she is confined to only a few select scenes. What we mostly get are anonymous teens who are set up for a slaughterhouse and, sure, all they care about is sex and some Mary Jane but the characters are more bloodless than animated. Putting it simply, there are no P.J. Soles personalities on hand here - the resurrected pumpkin during the opening credits has more personality.

I am not completely turned off by this "Halloween" sequel/reboot because there are a few scares, some choice moments for Jamie Lee Curtis and a chilling, suspenseful finish. Michael Myers is still depicted as a mysterious phantom of sorts with a precision-like method of killing, sans all the ridiculous psychological insights from Rob Zombie in his remakes. And yet if the filmmakers (including director and writer David Gordon Green along with co-writer Danny McBride) kept their focus on Laurie and less on the mad psychiatrist and all those disposable teens, we might have had an amazing sequel instead of some serviceable reboot.

Warm Apple Pie Feel

AMERICAN PIE (1999)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I am not a big fan of gross-out comedies, particularly teenage gross-out comedies a la "Porky's" or the "Animal House" variety. Somehow, the idea that teenagers having nothing more on their heads than sexual promiscuity is not very appetizing. Well, sure, I was once a teenager myself, during the

Republican 80's, and I did think about sex, but there were other things on my mind too. "American Pie" is about teens in the 90's, sharing their zestful quest for losing their virginity on prom night. But I am convinced that sex is not the only preoccupation facing teens of America.

Nevertheless, the film's opening sequence is a classic piece of raunchy humor. Jim (Jason Biggs) is watching a porno channel that is barely registering on the cable channel. But the channel's soundtrack is unmistakably clear, as Jim fondles himself until his parents enter the room and are horrified by his

hormonal desires. He gets comical, expert advice from his father (hilariously played by Eugene Levy), who buys him all the porno mags he needs to understand sex. Still, Jim's curiosity gets to him when he is told that sex feels like "warm, apple pie."

Jim is not the only teen in high school hung up on sex - so are all his buddies, mostly lacrosse players. One player (the winsome Chris Klein from "Election") is not all he's cracked up to be, and feels that he has real sensitivity. He woos an intelligent choir girl (Mena Sevauri), who is taken by

his willingness to sing just to get close to her.

The Jerry Lewis-like Jim may not just be interested in sex, but he has a predilection for its orgasmic innuendoes. In a triumphantly classic scene, Jim broadcasts his bedroom antics with a sexy foreign exchange student on the Internet. Only problem is that he is not aware this is being broadcast to the

whole high school community! Jim struts barechested while the voluptuous female gets aroused by a skin magazine, and all the immature high-schoolers howl with laughter.

"American Pie's" saving grace is that some of these kids are made to seem human, unlike the cardboard cartoon characters of "Animal House" or any other horny teen flick from the late 80's starring Corey Feldman. No, these kids are sweet and human and, uh, oh, sensitive! Jim's one line about how a nerdy, talkative band player (Alyson Hannigan) has something else to talk about

besides sex pretty much sums up the sensitivity factor. Naturally. it turns out she wants to use Jim because of his lusty, Net activity. Jason Biggs, Chris Klein and Mena Sevauri at least seem to come from the real world of teenagers, but the burning question remains: is there more to life in high school than sex? If you have seen "Election" or went to high school, you may be compelled

to agree that there is.

Judge is jury and executioner

THE STAR CHAMBER (1983)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Michael Douglas playing an idealistic judge who can't combat the L.A. judicial system that allows criminals to get off scot-free after committing heinous murders sounds like a promising idea. Even more promising is the idea of an idealistic judge who unethically decides to secretly play judge and jury with a group of other judges - that sounds almost inspired. Call it Judge With a Death Wish except it is Douglas and a few other judges playing Charles Bronson. Call it whatever you want yet "The Star Chamber" is one of the few seemingly inspired movies that quickly becomes so tiredly uninspired.

The problem is the undernourished screenplay by Roderick Taylor and Peter Hyams (who also directed) that becomes dependent on contrivance. For one, Douglas's Judge Hardin is mostly left on the sidelines, wondering if he can continue to play by the rules of the L.A. court system that lets murderers go (thanks to some very able defendant lawyers who can determine that placing garbage in a garbage truck can't be evidence obtained without necessitating a warrant before the trash is scooped into the truck compartment!) At first, the idea of a crooked judicial system (which was nothing new even in 1983) is intriguing because we sense Hardin's disillusionment and frustration. Everything becomes suspended on a tangled web for Hardin when the father of the one of the murdered boys (James Sikking) attempts to shoot the freed killers only to wound a guard instead. After that same father commits suicide (and another kid is found murdered in a similar fashion), Hardin reluctantly joins a star chamber, a group of judges that meet at Judge Caulfield's house (Caulfield is played by that most reliable actor, Hal Holbrook) to kill selective freed criminals with the aid of a professional hit man.

But it is precisely at this point that "The Star Chamber" falls apart completely. Hardin joins the Star Chamber, okays every hit, and then is wracked with guilt. Over what, his complicity or that he can't shoot the criminals himself or that this secret chamber is the wrong approach? Hard to say because Michael Douglas's performance is so subdued to the point of nonexistence - he comes alive in the latter third of the film when he tries to warn two despicable killers that the chamber wants their blood. Yeah, okay, as if this scenario makes any sense - it is completely contrived. Why bother warning the cold-blooded killers when he may be thinking of dismantling the chamber anyway? Douglas and his Hardin character are so aloof in this film that I never intuitively felt the character possessed any moral right to rectify the abuses within and outside the judicial system. He is the same indifferent sourpuss from beginning to end - watching Michael Douglas's moody character can be an endurance test. So is "The Star Chamber."  

Life, love and Wine-Tastin'

WINE COUNTRY (2019)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

It is not often that a film about a few middle-aged women in the middle of sunlit vineyards talking about love, life and wine can inspire anyone. With former SNL alums engaged in much banter and slowly serving as a support group for each other, men may hesitantly approach "Wine Country," Netflix's new film. Eradicate all hesitation: "Wine Country" is deliriously funny and contains moments of real humanity. I will not call it the female version of Alexander Payne's "Sideways" but who needs to - it exists on its own honest terms and both films couldn't be further apart in comparison.

A getaway to Napa Valley is planned to a tee by organizing whiz Abby (Amy Poehler) where all her pals (who used to work at a Chicago pizzeria) are gathered to celebrate Rebecca's 50th birthday (she's played by Rachel Dratch). They get to stay inside a rented beautiful house with a sumptuous view of the countryside while sipping wine. Sounds perfect, well, only if these women were generic and bland with no ambitions or drive. Thankfully that is not the case as we are introduced to Catherine (Ana Gasteyer, one of the more underappreciated presences on TV and film), who longs for her phone and business opportunities though the cell reception is not 100%; Val (Paula Pell), a boisterous single woman with a new knee looking for a new missus; Naomi (Maya Rudolph), who desires this time the most, away from her children, and finally grumpy Jenny (Emily Spivey, who co-wrote the film) who loves to sing along to pop tunes but, heaven forbid, any Quentin Tarantino movie soundtracks - she had to coerced into going on this trip.

Most of "Wine Country" has a rhapsodic looseness to it, almost the feeling of disconnected episodes that are not meant to converge in any unifying way until the end. That is the beauty and warmth of it, the innate feeling of closeness to women who you would definitely want to spend a day with (and in what better place than the wonders and endless vineyards of Napa Valley). None of the characters are unappealing or unlikable - they are a more-or-less spirited group who all have emotional issues in their current separate lives yet when they are together, it takes a while before they admit their hangups. That is crucial to the film's success - they are great friends that learn to value their friendship so as to not to lose what they had. Whatever exists in their own world now, they accept and move on as only they can. We see a lot of movies about teens and twentysomethings learning those same valuable lessons yet seeing middle-aged women engaged in them is a rare and welcome opportunity.

There is much to like and admire in "Wine Country." I love the scene where Naomi and Jenny walk in a vineyard where they are not supposed to be, walk away, then walk back awkwardly and then walk away again; the moment of realization that Val's interest in a part-time waitress and graphic artist (who has a Warhol penchant for Fran Drescher) is not mutual; an elongated take where Abby considers having sex with Jason Schwartzman's cook/chauffeur character; Tina Fey as the house owner who has seen everything, and the sad shenanigans of Rebecca whose back goes out on her and spends an entire night laying flat on the floor, carefully considering her marriage. There is also much tomfoolery involving rolling down a hill and drinking wine at various wine-tasting soirees without caring about the nuances of flavors. See, not quite at all like "Sideways" where nuance of wine-tasting was everything.

"Wine Country" is delightful and humanely funny (thanks to writers Spivey and Liz Cackowski) with a sparkling cast that brims and bubbles along with the visual charms of Northern California. I would not call this film vividly great yet, so far, I cannot imagine a more entertaining film in all of 2019.

The Man in Black has Arrived

WALK THE LINE (2007)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally written in 2008)

The toughest thing to do in a filmed biography is to capture someone's essence and their heart. Some films, like "The Aviator," "The Doors" or "The Great White Hope," capture the essence but not necessarily (or intentionally) the heart. I can live with either or both. What is unusual about James Mangold's "Walk the Line" is that it captures the essence and the heart of Johnny Cash beautifully, yet I think essence is all we really want from the Man in Black.

   

The film begins in Dyess, Arkansas in 1944 as we witness Cash's early years with his brother, his stern father (Robert Patrick) and mother (Shelby Lynne), living on a cotton farm. Johnny's elder brother dies in an unfortunate accident involving a buzz saw, and his father forever blames John for it (the circumstances today still remain a mystery). Flash forward to Germany as an older Johnny (Joaquin Phoenix) enlists in the Air Force and writes a couple of songs while stationed there (one of them being "Folsom Prison Blues," which is inspired by a documentary he watched called "Inside the Walls of Folsom Prison"). 

   

Meanwhile, Johnny Cash heads back to Tennessee, marries his first wife Vivian (Ginnifer Goodwin), has children, but can't seem to cut it as a door-to-door salesman. Still, his dreams lay in a singing career as he forms a band called "The Tennessee Two" with two mechanics. His wife is none too pleased but Johnny Cash's career skyrockets after cutting a demo at Sun Records, and the rest is history. But his newfound fame really takes off when he meets June Carter (Reese Witherspoon), a young dynamo of a singer from country royalty in good old Memphis. This sparks a friendship and love that endures more detours than you'll find at the Long Island Expressway.

   

During the course of Johnny Cash's early years as a singer, specifically from the 1950's to the late 1960's, he gets addicted to amphetamines, divorces Vivian, goes on endless tours with June and the band, and drinks and grows a nasty temper (in one intense moment, Johnny tears a bathroom sink from the wall.) In the end, all he wants is June Carter's love but receiving is a battle all its own. 

   

Joaquin Phoenix is phenomenal as Johnny Cash, showing the singer's dependency on speed, his desperate need not to be separated from June Carter, his violent outbursts, and his eerie calmness when talking to his formerly abusive and drunk father. Phoenix also does something else - he shows 

Cash's boundless energy on the stage that is truly electrifying to watch. You'll forget that you are watching Mr. Phoenix on stage (he sang all the vocals). What is most stirring is seeing how easily you can be seduced by the music. When he asks June to sing "Time's A Wastin'," despite her objections, you see how easily she goes along with it - you can't help but be seduced by Johnny's charm. 

   

Reese Witherspoon gives her best performance since "Election," demonstrating an alarming sense of vitality. I say alarming because Witherspoon basically jumps off the screen with her 

sweet singing voice, her smarts, her wit, her dynamic enthusiasm and her love for Cash whom she is waiting to mature (basically, to walk the line). Both Witherspoon and Phoenix have incalculable chemistry but it is Witherspoon who shows what a real force of nature she is - she is a tornado 

that practically wipes Phoenix off the screen. Even in her small moments, particularly when criticized for her past marriages by an unlikely fan, Witherspoon is as watchable a presence as any young actress. 

   

James Mangold ("Girl Interrupted") does more than a serviceable job as director - he revitalizes the biographical musical genre. And in doing so, he also trims the typical narrative fat that makes up most bios to narrowly focus on the developing relationship between Johnny and June. You must understand that "Walk the Line" is not intended to be insightful about Johnny's relationship to music - only to the woman who emotionally supported him till the end. 

   

Sometimes a phrase says it all. There is a line that Cash's father says during an uneventful Thanksgiving dinner. He tells his son that Jack Benny's house was bigger than Johnny's. 

How does his father know this? He saw it on TV. Cash may have had a smaller house but he will always be bigger than Jack Benny. And it is his June Carter Cash who made that possible. R.I.P Johnny and June.

Visited this House 1000 times before

HOME AGAIN (2017)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I watched "Home Again" with the pretense that it was nothing more than a garden variety rom-com with Reese Witherspoon walking through a well-traveled path of cliches with more than the usual music-video montages. Every move would be anticipated, every moment calculated to its zenith point. What is different from the norm is watching the high energy of Reese Witherspoon who clearly is better than the stale mediocrity written for her.

I suppose there is potential here for an interior decorator and mother of two daughters (not to mention the daughter of a famous fictional Cassavetes-like film director), Alice (Witherspoon), having an affair with an ambitious twentysomething film director, Harry (Pico Alexander). What I was not keen on was watching this souffle of a film director bring his two filmmaking buddies to live in Alice's guest house! That plot point by the way is about as nervy and messy as the film gets. Alice's daughters are adorable, I suppose, yet unmemorable. The two buddies, George (an ambitious screenwriter) and Teddy (an ambitious actor), start participating in Alice's daily activities, including picking up the daughters from school and theatre rehearsals, cooking meals, etc. What are we watching here? What about the romantic fling between Alice and Harry who walks around shirtless on occasion? This fling is so devoid of heat or romantic sparks that it is difficult to see any attraction other than sexual (which, of course, this being a PG-13 flick, the sex is minimal to almost nonexistent).

I must wonder about Alice's philandering father, a film director no doubt modeled on the late John Cassavetes. Why is this subplot given short-shrift? Even Candice Bergen who plays Alice's mother looks a lot like Gena Rowlands, Cassavetes's wife. Considering we have three budding filmmakers living in Alice's house (formerly her father's), why not stir the imagination about their filmmaking interests since Alice's father is one of their inspirations without focusing on old sitcom setups?

The movie is like a parade of moments we have seen a million times before. "Home Again" has no consistent unifying motion - it is a series of photo shoots where every actor looks prettified beyond belief thanks to lighting that comes from 10,000 watt bulbs. The dialogue is stale at best (a confrontation between Alice and her boss is handled like a sitcom situation without the laugh track) with no real interest in personality, depth or spontaneity. Witherspoon (and Michael Sheen who briefly appears as her ex-husband) give this movie a lift but it needs more than a crane - it needs a new construction crew. 

Enter the Bruceploitation madness

BRUCE LEE: THE MAN, THE MYTH (1976)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

When I first saw the perversely entertaining Bruce Lee biopic "Bruce Lee: The Man, The Myth" on TV back in 1983, I was excited about an unexpected renaissance: Bruce Lee might come back. Towards the end of the film, a theory is proposed that Bruce Lee not only faked his untimely death at the age of 32 but that he would return in 1983 as Southeast Asia was awaiting his return. Of course, that was not to be since Lee really did die. If he had been a recluse, he might have returned sooner had he known his name would be exploited in so many cheap, amateurish Bruceploitation flicks ready to cash in on his name, his legacy. "Bruce Lee: The Man, The Myth" is one of the better flicks (though clearly cheaply produced) and it distinguishes itself by paying some measure of tribute to the late martial arts master. Of course, it is about as fictionalized as you can imagine.

Bruce Li (aka Ho Chung Tao, James Ho) plays the iconic Lee, from his days of training with his master Yip Man, to his San Francisco days in college where he would perform tricks with students such as grabbing a coin from someone's hand in lightning fashion, to various challenges from many different martial-arts fighters while operating his own martial-arts school, to his days on the set of his famous films ("The Big Boss" shows some of the same actors from that film) where he was consistently challenged by fighters who thought he was all show and not a real fighter. Bruce Lee has to continue to prove himself as he trains harder and harder, then starts developing headaches and then he dies, though the film suggests there may have been more to his death than a simple ingestion of a painkiller.

If you have never read a book about Bruce Lee, then you might accept some of the biographical material as fact: please don't! For one, the various fight challenges he endures in this film are hogwash (only 3 to the best of my collection are probable, though none resemble what is on display here). Though there is a mention of Lee's dismissal of karate or any style as inferior to his Jeet Kune Do, there is no real discussion other than lines such as "Kung-Fu is!" Well, that settles that debate. Bruce Lee, a philosopher at heart, would've expounded on such issues. Also, I am not sure his strict protein diet included a piece of chocolate but I can't say for sure.

"Bruce Lee: The Man, The Myth" has the likable Bruce Li at its center who captures the legend in most of his glory, including the mischievous smiles. Li is also a hell of a charismatic fighter though he doesn't quite capture the balletic grace, the hesitation in Bruce Lee's fighting skills - the initial reluctance to fight is what made Bruce Lee more positively human than any one-dimensional clone. Of course, there is only one Bruce. The actress Lynda Hirst (her sole role) who plays Linda Lee, Bruce's wife, is uncanny though she barely has any lines. The movie itself is a fun, if sloppily made, chop-socky flick - just don't take it as gospel.