The Eyes of Karen Black say it all

 CAN SHE BAKE A CHERRY PIE? (1983)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I once met Karen Black at a Chiller Theater convention in the early 2000's. She signed an autograph for me and was quite moved that I picked a "Family Plot" picture for her to sign ("Family Plot" was of course Hitchcock's last film). When she looked at me, her hypnotic, witchy eyes left me feeling as if I was put in a trance. It was amazing to see her look at me this way. That is why she is so perfectly and believably romantic, goofy and kooky all at the same time in "Can She Bake a Cherry Pie?" which is among Karen Black's finest performances ever. When a man looks at her, he can't help but be transfixed and how could he not be? 

Zee (Karen Black) is unable to deal with her husband leaving her. At first, I thought he was a boyfriend who had to leave for work but then we see him packing his clothes while she puts them back in the drawers and vice versa! Meanwhile, we hear the jackhammerin' outside and director Henry Jaglom has an annoying habit of cutting from the jackhammering to Zee pleading with her husband to stay, back and forth and back and forth. Oh, God, why? I still don't understand the juxtaposition nor do I understand how Jaglom frequently has his team of editors just barely cut by slivers at the end of many scenes so you get an occasionally abrupt transition that feels out of step. It works in some films but here, there are many scenes that have a simple beauty, like the guy playing with a pigeon that flies to his hand on command in long takes without abrupt cuts. The former is just an editing pattern that you can ignore due to the cast and our engaging involvement with Zee. 

The movie is primarily about Zee though not always from her point-of-view. In one stunningly moving scene, Zee starts to sob trying to order a meal at a local cafe and a near-balding social worker, Eli (Michael Emil, a true original in this type of movie), tries to comfort her. He succeeds in making her laugh and the rest of this atypical romantic comedy has them frolicking in the city, frolicking in bed while he measures his heartbeat, and then they start to really talk to each other. Zee panics and thinks people from the cafe where she met Eli are following her, yet Emil doesn't judge and tries to calm her down. Zee sometimes sings at an underpopulated bar, and sometimes she watches Orson Welles on TV doing magic tricks (I wouldn't doubt some of this footage is from Jaglom's "A Safe Place"). 

Zee sees beauty in the everyday, even in the concrete jungle of New York City. Eli loves her for that reason and these scenes really got to me on an emotional level. Karen Black encapsulates Zee's inner and outer beauty flawlessly so that when she sings, we are touched by this emotional wreck of an angel. "Can She Bake a Cherry Pie?" is awkwardly shaped at times with the introduction of needless characters at the cafe (including a very young, almost unrecognizable Larry David and that annoying pigeon expert) and though some of these interactions are cute, they do not merit half the attention we want from Zee and Eli. Zee finds some measure of hope, of belonging to someone like Eli whom you might least expect to discover such a capable romantic partner. We see it in her eyes and they do not lie. Those hypnotic, witchy eyes. 

Paul and Mary would kill to own a restaurant

 EATING RAOUL (1982)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Eating Raoul" is not a lacerating black comedy or satire, nor does it try to go over-the-top firing on all cylinders at its targets. There is quite a bit of charm to it despite its potentially disturbing subject matter and its almost demure flatness is itself part of the joke. And it is a great funny joke that exploits its premise to no end at a cool and inventively hilarious 83 minutes.

What happens when a liquor store clerk and his shapely nurse of a wife run a swingers newspaper ad and confront all sorts of male chauvinist creeps? Well, they hit each one of them on the head with a frying pan, that's what. Paul Bartel is Paul Bland and Mary Woronov is Mary Bland, and their interest in swinging with any sexual fantasy welcomed by the client is initiated because they need money to buy a restaurant. Paul and Mary sleep in separate beds because they do not engage in sex! Mary is consistently sexually harassed at work and when she applies for a loan. When it comes to the sexual swinging, the men are aggressive as well and Paul and Mary think nothing of murdering their wealthy clients and taking their money. An orgy is attended by the matter-of-factly couple and let's say they make a killing.

A professional thief who is also a smooth locksmith, Raoul (a delightfully suave performance by Robert Beltran), is on to the couple and wants to assist in these murders as long as he gets a percentage of the profits. When Paul gets wind that Raoul is pleasuring Mary thanks to smoking a Thai stick, he asks for help from a dominatrix (Susan Saiger) who doubles as an INS agent, a nurse and a blind nun just to get Raoul out of the way. It almost works and these scenes made me double over with laughter.

I avoided "Eating Raoul" for years because I thought it was some sort of cannibalistic comedy and cannibalism is a subject I can do without (regardless of my perverse love for "The Silence of the Lambs"). Truth is it is anything but (though there is a feast involving eating raw meat though it is so understated that you can't possibly be offended by it). "Eating Rauol" turns out to be one of the most raucous, perfectly straight love stories you might see involving a murdering couple. Paul and Mary are not exactly amoral - they just see this killing spree as another way of making money without any regard to the consequences or the humanity of their clients (many of them are creeps and attack and attempt to rape Mary without any prior knowledge that they are to be killed by frying pan!) To the Blands, it is all fun and games that is justified as long as they attain their capitalist goal of owning a restaurant serving Bland food. Their happiness extends to that American dream and their love for each other than runs deeper than anyone thinks. Watching Paul Bartel and Mary Woronov discuss their future and their expenditures while corpses are being dragged out of their apartment in trash bags kept me laughing throughout. It is absurdist and so uniquely clever and engaging that I can't imagine seeing it less than twice.

Broken Reels

 CRIMEWAVE (1985)

An Escaped Review, not a Releasable Review 

by Jerry Saravia

"Crimewave" is a delirious puzzle of a movie - actually, it is a puzzle and I hesitate calling it a movie. Its got two killers on the loose (bug exterminators) with maniacal glee in their eyes and a cackling laughter that just might turn you off in the first few minutes. It has Bruce Campbell deliciously playing a heel (the best performance in the film). It also has Sheree J. Wilson as some glamorous 1940's-type woman who hates heels and presumably nerds. Speaking of nerds or wonky vulnerable men, it has one (Reed Birney) who tells this whole bizarre story before his scheduled electrocution in prison for allegedly killing people. I hesitate calling this a story but this "story" also has nuns who have a 40-year vow of silence. And there's Louise Lasser as some housewife. 

"Crimewave" is directed, or rather shaped into a shapeless monstrosity, by Sam Raimi who has done infinitely better. It is ostensibly written by the Coen Brothers who wisely started directing their own scripts after this - I say ostensibly because they feel like words on the page but they do not form complete sentences. I simply gave up trying to figure this incredibly tedious effort out - a sort of deeply inconsistent cross between 40's noir, farcical comedy and a chase picture with an anarchic spirit. Yep, it is pure anarchy and not much else. The version I saw did not have the title "Crimewave," it was titled "Broken Hearts and Broken Noses" (This was the San Diego test market title). Broken Reels is a more appropriate title.

Unemployment never keeps you down

 RAINING STONES (1993)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

When a couple of unemployed workers from Manchester stoop as low as grabbing a sheep and trying to sell it as meat to local butchers, you can't imagine things getting any lower. Only Ken Loach's "Raining Stones" does go lower and one of them, Bob, faces a moral crisis.

An unemployed plumber, Bob (Bruce Jones), is trying to support his wife, Anne (Julie Brown) and their young daughter, Coleen (Gemma Phoenix), who is getting ready for her first Communion. Naturally she needs a Communion dress and though the local priest says there is no shame in giving her one of their pristine dresses, Bob stubbornly says he will buy her one - he has to keep his pride (and the poor guy just had his green van stolen). Plumbing is something Bob tries from door-to-door unsuccessfully. His good friend, Tommy (Ricky Tomlinson), is also unemployed and feels shame in accepting money from his daughter who is presumably making a killing in selling perfume, makeup, etc. Bob and Tommy try everything from selling sheep meat, to cutting patches of grass to sell to a landscaping company - that's just what they do in pairs. Bob tries his hand at bouncing at a nightclub which ends with him spotting Tommy's daughter selling drugs - he is fired for being unable to prove that any drug pushing took place. This is a curious moment because Bob never tells Tommy that he spotted her. Everyone is going through enough turmoil.

"Raining Stones" is practically a documentary of the Manchester working class during a depression where financial woes and unemployment can cause a strain in families. Nothing new about that notion yet Ken Loach makes Bob and Tommy not into losers but rather optimistic men who are trying their damnedest to work for a living. He wants to keep his youngest daughter Coleen happy, to make his wife happy, yet he keeps making mistakes. A subplot involving Bob getting a loan from a tough loan shark is very intense and dramatically satisfying because we know it is all about the Communion dress. If Bob can make anyone happy, it won't be himself - it will be his daughter.

Whether it is the working class conditions from Glasgow in Bill Forsyth's "That Sinking Feeling" or Mike Leigh's own British tales of woe ("Naked" is one of his most powerful), I have a deep admiration for such stories because they are about people struggling yet nothing stops them from trying. "Raining Stones" is one tale of woe that kept me on the edge of my seat. I worried for Bob and his family and hoped that he would get out of the troubling financial situations he was in and find a job. Never has that seemed so meaningful and potent as in "Raining Stones." 

Art as salvation through the supernatural

 THE DARK STRANGER (2015)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Canadian horror films I've seen typically seem to skimp on gore and go straight for the jugular, so to speak (except maybe for director David Cronenberg). "The Dark Stranger" has some creative blood effects that do not overwhelm and yet the story doesn't seem to jell between the artist with suicidal tendencies and the art world, the process of creating. Can someone who creates a world that suffers from depression actually do it without medication, or is it willed by something supernatural?

Katie Findlay (Leah Garrison), who looks like Emmy Rossum's younger sister, refuses to leave the house and hardly ever takes a shower. She lives with her brother, an aspiring musician, and her understanding and devoted father, both of whom she cooks dinner for. Katie's mother committed suicide and left behind some drawings that has piqued someone's interest in showing them at a gallery. Katie can't bring herself to draw but when she stops taking her meds, the creative juices start flowing. Only this is not the usual creative streak that she can enjoy - something beyond her forces her to sketch drawings for a graphic novel called "The Dark Stranger." Of course, we the audience start to think this is all in her head but it turns out that by drawing these pages, a supernatural force has been summoned and wants her to finish the graphic novel. He is the Dark Stranger.

Writer-director Chris Trebilcock could have taken this in ways where reality and fantasy sometimes merge yet the distinction may remain at arm's length, at least from Katie's point-of-view. Trebilcock chickens out when he goes down the usual well-travelled path of horror films (though there is nothing as wretched here as the misshapen "Cellar Dweller" from 1988), and I won't say where that path leads but I think you can guess where. Somehow this occasionally tepid script avoids really dealing with Katie's depression. The set up is terrific and the first half-hour or so really forms the slightly dysfunctional family unit. Leah Garrison gives an amazingly potent performance as Katie and her mood swings feel completely realistic, especially when it leads to cutting herself. I also enjoyed Enrico Colantoni as the father who is troubled by Katie and her visions and still hopes she will come out of it. Also worth noting is Stephen McHattie as the Dark Stranger and a real-life stranger, an art curator, who is far too interested in Katie's mother's drawings - talk about potency, McHattie is a bit underused here but he still has a fiery presence.

"The Dark Stranger" has some intriguing ideas and I love the drawings of this graphic novel and how they come to life. I just wished it went further and that it did not progressively ignore Katie's mental breakdown and/or illness. Art is her salvation but only in a supernaturally superficial kind of way. 

Late Night Neo-Noir

 CALL ME (1988)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Within the first few minutes of "Call Me," it is easy to figure this as yet another late-night thriller curiosity that you should only watch late at night. We see a young brunette emerge from the shower, quickly answering the ringing landline phone only to find it is her boyfriend who wants her badly. He asks to meet her at the Polish Bar in New York City. She arrives and finds no boyfriend, only some creeps like a corrupt murdering cop and a murdered transvestite in the bathroom who was only collecting cash. Just another day in New York. As I said, easy to write off yet something strange happens in this film, it pulls you in and you go along for a ride that makes some unpredictable stops along the way.

Patricia Charbonneau (who had her sensational debut in "Desert Hearts") is Anna, a newspaper columnist who writes for a section called "Street Scene." Anna lives all alone in her apartment. Her boyfriend (Sam Freed) acts like a friend who stops by occasionally and they seem to have no sex life. Anna's predicament at the Polish Bar leads to more obscene phone calls from someone she thought was her boyfriend. Now she starts to think the obscene caller is a blonde-haired customer at that bar (Stephen McHattie) who may be embroiled in some bad business involving a crooked cop and a basic crook (Steve Buscemi, whose role here is no different than the one he played in "Fargo"). She can't bring herself to stop talking to the obscene caller, though she also keeps hanging up on him. Anna eventually engages in phone sex involving an orange (cue food items from "9 1/2 Weeks") and then her boyfriend shows up unannounced watching her!

Believe it or not based on the plot description, I was really taken by "Call Me." It is not an overriding success since it tackles some disparate plot elements, including the two hoodlums, the cop, Anna's neighbor who is enamored with her, the neglectful boyfriend who's also a junk food critic, and one too many scenes of Anna's best friend (Patti D'Arbanville) who wears too many layers of clothing. Sure, if "Call Me" had explored the world of phone sex and obscene callers nary the thriller elements, it might have proved to be more psychological. Still, "Call Me" is fascinating and absorbing on a perverse level - a sort of late-night neo noir thriller with an unexpected ending that seems just perfect. The obscene caller is not who we think it is either, and McHattie (who is most arresting in perfectly composed poses and never says much) strikes a nerve - we wonder about him and his allegiance to the criminal underworld. Charbonneau is too naive a journalist and she makes one too many mistakes yet I was entranced by her performance - she makes us care even when she does stupid things (like she could have exited through the bathroom window of that bar to avoid detection after that opening transvestite murder scene). Charbonneau and McHattie occupy a world where nothing is what it seems and if the film followed up on these two fascinating characters, it might have been a boozy noir masterpiece. As it stands, it is an absorbing and perverse noir thriller. Watch it late at night for maximum effect. 

Easy paycheck for Charles Bronson

 DEATH WISH 3 (1985)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Death Wish 3" is the junkiest and most hilariously bad Charles Bronson flick ever. Never mind consistency because aside from Bronson returning to his paycheck role as urban vigilante Paul Kersey, this movie has no real connection to the other "Death Wish" films that preceded it. Sure, there is mention of Kersey's murdered wife from the first film but that is it. Nothing here is remotely credible yet there is one major consistency - it is laughable from start to finish.

How laughable. Consider the moment where Kersey is in a gang controlled part of East New York and goes out in the streets with the intent to mow down a gang member. He brings along a Nikon camera that he carries over his shoulder as bait, and his ultra Magnum gun (a Wildey .475 Magnum) hidden in his jacket. A gang member named "The Grinner" (Kirk Taylor) steals his camera and Paul Kersey shoots him and everyone applauds! Another victory for Paul Kersey! Yahoo! This should have been a scene in a parody of "Death Wish," not an actual sequel that should be gritty yet the grit is mostly shown via the trash on the streets (and I do mean actual garbage and strewn newspapers). But the whole movie unintentionally plays like a joke, from the nonsensical use of a synthesizer score at the most inappropriate moments to Martin Balsam as a fed-up WWII vet who has a machine gun he can't operate (though Paul, who served in Korea, knows how to use it) to killings of gang members who drive by and crash into other vehicles that explode on impact. You know, a cheesy Cannon Films production of East New York that was partially shot in London (how Kubrickian).

There is the nonsensical inclusion of Deborah Raffin as a public defender who is also killed in a car crash with an explosion on impact! She has a brief love affair with Kersey so you know she will be offed. Gavan O'Herlihy is the recently imprisoned gang leader who kills another gang leader by slicing their throat, and the others all applaud as if the guy made a touchdown! This is the kind of movie where violence is celebrated at every interval. And when Kersey kills gang members, the police show up (despite the police chief giving Paul the right to kill) but when the neighborhood citizens are attacked or killed - the police never arrive. Add to that one tasteless and unnecessary rape scene that was thankfully trimmed and another where a woman is dragged out screaming about to be raped - these moments recall the original films yet their tacked-on inclusion only gives an excuse for Paul's extreme vigilantism which includes using a rocket launcher. Despite those titillating scenes, there is still Ed Lauter as the chief of police eventually joining forces with Paul and you've got "Death Wish 3" which is never boring and trimmed to a tight 93 minutes. It is not a good movie (unlike the original 1974 flick) or a heinously bad one (not unlike "Death Wish II"), just laughable and dumb with no pretensions. Easy paycheck day for Charles Bronson.