Delightful, empty escapism

 OCEAN'S THIRTEEN (2007)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

So I saw "Ocean's Eleven" once more a while ago, a film I initially
disliked but it has grown on me somewhat. If anyone were to ask me
whether I prefer the Rat Pack 1960 version or the modern one, I would
go with the Rat Pack. I have not seen "Ocean's Twelve" but I am
curious because "Ocean's Thirteen" is a delightful if empty form of
escapism that has no other angle other than to entertain. With a game
cast, I let them roll the dice and, surprisingly, they score.

Steven Soderbergh's newest sequel centers on good old slickster
himself, Ruben Tishkoff (Elliott Gould), who thinks he is buying a
brand new casino with all the expected fireworks until his greedy
partner, Willie Banks (Al Pacino), buys him out and Ruben ends up in
the emergency room from heartache (Willie also names the casino after
himself). All you need to shake things up is the reliable Danny Ocean
(George Clooney) and his merry band of hucksters, slicksters, con-
artists and thieves who have more sleight-of-hand than the old Santa
Fe zine I used to write for, Legerdemain. The idea is to undermine
Willie's whole operation, steal some precious diamonds, and cut his
profits on opening day. Unfortunately, the Ocean's group runs out of
money to stage such an operation and they have to resort to dealing
with a former nemesis, cooly played with ease and laid-back charm by
Andy Garcia.

So we get scenes where Matt Damon wears an oversized nose; the late
Bernie Mac displaying his latest card game; a Mexican factory where
the Vegas chips are made; Brad Pitt pretending to be a scientist who
fears an earthquake is on the way; Al Pacino hooting and hollering;
George Clooney getting teary-eyed at an Oprah episode; a boring
machine that has to simulate an earthquake, and much more. It is all
fun and games, with whiplash editing and flashy direction by Steven
Soderbergh. The actors all show up and give it a relaxed tone that
makes it all the more fun.

None of this preposterous nonsense makes a lick of sense but it is
spirited and has quicker, sharper dialogue than the original 2001
film. The movie is basically a caper film in-name only, since its pure
existence is to entertain the audience and provide George Clooney,
Brad Pitt, Al Pacino and Matt Damon as true attractive movie stars
with flashy suits and cool demeanors. The movie looks, feels and acts
like a cool summer breeze that is unique in its own way. It's glitzy
Hollywood entertainment - the kind you don't see anymore - so go and
enjoy that breeze.

Blooming, delightful romance with barebones plot

 THE MUNSTERS (2022)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

The Munsters family from Mockingbird Lane should not be in color or contain color schemes borrowed from "Batman Forever." It should be resplendent black-and-white as evidenced by the last scene of this upbeat, silly, cartoonish if occasionally lackluster effort by Rob Zombie. The last scene is a basic repeat of the opening title sequence from the 1960's TV series and it has zest and pointed humor in the body language of its monstrous characters and high energy, enlivened of course by the music score. Zombie's "Munsters" is sort of fun in a Nickelodeon-show-kind-of-way but the surefire elements are sporadic. What works wonders in this modern update is the wacky relationship between the Munsters.

"The Munsters" film is a prequel to the classic 1960's TV series and it dictates how good-natured vampire Lily Munster (Sheri Moon Zombie) met the dim-witted Herman Munster (Jeff Daniel Phillips), a Monster made out of human parts just like Frankenstein's Monster. Lily never quite finds her man - one of her first dates is with Count Orlok (a delectable touch that is one of the funniest scenes in the movie) - but she responds with such divine longing when she sets her eyes on Herman on a Transylvania talk show that her heart pops out of her chest. Herman is brought to life by a mad scientist and his witless assistant Floop and, before you know it, Herman is a standup comedian telling jokes that went out of style pre-George Burns. He does his obligatory ha-ha routine after telling a joke yet no one is laughing, including myself. The rest of the film focuses on Herman and Lily dating, marrying, going on a honeymoon to Paris while Grandpa Munster (Daniel Roebuck) does his double-takes and eyerolls and sees Herman as a complete idiot. 

There is a wisp of a plot involving the Munsters losing their home (thanks to Herman) and then deciding to head to California to buy a house at Mockingbird Lane. That thread of a plot is about as much story as we are given - it is about as thin as Grandpa Munster's coffin lid. Perhaps if the film involved varied comical, farcical situations, it might have been good, clean fun for the whole family. The situations that formed the TV series are not present here since the movie aims for the romance between Herman and Lily. Aside from Roebuck's vampiric Grandpa and Lester the werewolf (Thomas Boykin), a very spirited con man who's Lily's brother, no one else in this movie is aiming high for inspiration.

Still, I must give credit to Zombie for making me care about Herman and Lily and Grandpa. I did enjoy the first hour of this movie and there is something rather touching and affectionate about this unusual romance (Herman and Lily sing "I Got You Babe" dressed just like Sonny and Cher). Sheri Moon Zombie might overdo her hand gestures (which were fairly minimal in the show with Yvonne De Carlo, a far more sophisticated interpretation) and Jeff Daniel Phillips might be overdoing Herman's likable doofus personality but he never quite embodies Herman the way Fred Gwynne did back in the day - he is more of a sweet-tempered fool than Gwynne's authoritarian presence and deep bass of a voice that evoked an ironic Frankenstein Monster who spouted life lessons like Fred MacMurray did in "My Three Sons." Of course, I should mention Gwynne's Herman wasn't all that bright either. Yet when Sheri and Jeff are on screen together, there is some magnetism there and I love how Lily tries to give everyone a chance - she wants to express love and she loves Herman unconditionally. It is a delightful performance and nobody can say that they have ever seen Sheri Moon depicted this way before.

I recently watched an old "Munsters" TV episode where Herman is hoodwinked into buying a used car that is actually in bad shape. That episode had vitality and the right tone, not to mention beautiful black-and-white photography that served the purpose of incarnating the Universal Monster flicks. The production design in this movie is garishly colorful yet it just barely spoils the fun somewhat - it may as well have been directed by Joel Schumacher. "The Munsters" is a vapid cartoon-like oddity but not a completely bad take on one my favorite shows I watched as a kid. I suppose I expected a lot more than the Nickelodeon full-length version of "The Munsters" with a blooming romance and dated jokes that wouldn't pass muster at an SNL audition. Or maybe they would.      

Harlequin madness

 TERRIFIER (2016)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Terrifier" is blood-splattered, empty-headed, brutally vicious grade-C junk. Dare I say more? I guess I better even though that is a satisfying summation of what to expect.

The movie begins with a pounding, excessively relentless beat when a news reporter is attacked and has her face and eye ripped out by someone who had suffered just the same. Welcome to the gorehounds of the world who will eat this stuff up, no pun intended. Turns out the disfigured woman who killed the female reporter was the sole survivor of the Art the Clown massacre that occurred in a rat-infested building on Halloween night. Flashback to that dreadfully bloody night where Tara and Dawn (Jenna Kanell, Samantha Scaffidi) are two drunk girls who make all the mistakes no one should ever make in a slasher flick. They see the devilish-looking Art the Clown (David Howard Thornton), dressed in a black-and-white clown costume with a tiny hat, walking around with a trash bag as they are about to enter their car. Do the two girls leave? Of course not, or else we have no movie. These best buds go to a pizza joint because pizza is what you need to relieve drunkenness. Art shows up at the pizza joint, the girls leave (sensible despite one of them taking a selfie with the clown) and then Art decapitates two pizza employees! Why? Who can say. Tara calls her sister to pick them up since they got a flat tire. Cliche number 100 in the slasher film genre. Tara needs to use the bathroom facility, so the pest control worker lets her in the abandoned building where the rats roam the filthy looking facilities. I wish I could say the rats are the worst of it.

You know the rest. One if not both girls will be slaughtered by Art the Clown. There will be much gore that includes Art sawing a woman in half! Ugh! He does it with extreme delight - Art the Clown is best described as a killer mime in that he never says a word nor does he ever wince in pain when he is stabbed or bludgeoned. Tara runs around this building for an eternity, confronting a homeless woman who nurtures a plastic baby doll! There is not one but two pest control workers. It is Slaughterhouse Night.

It is hard to care about the two girls who mostly curse and have no other thoughts in their heads and make stupid mistakes. Dawn is a pure dumbbell. Tara just screams in agony and pain and, when her sister shows up, we get more of the same. "Terrifier" is well-made and very well-shot and choreographed but it is mostly an unscary, nihilistic bloody-entrails-and-severed-organs splatter show. Art the Clown has degrees of menace to him and he has a moment where he nurtures the plastic doll and is hugged by the homeless woman while sucking his thumb. This is fascinating for about thirty seconds until the sadism is cranked up to 11 million units of pumped-up blood. "Terrifier" is never boring but you will not respect yourself in the morning. "Avert your eyes" should've been the subtitle.

Werewolves like their burgers rare

 THE HOWLING (1981)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Smiley face stickers are a clue to a murderin' werewolf, known as Eddie Quist, prowling the streets of L.A. Dee Wallace is the terrified TV anchorwoman, Karen, who has to confront Eddie and it leads to a porno store with a peep show booth! The cops arrive, shots ring out, blood is spilled and it appears Eddie might be dead. Such an opening scene could easily pass as a cheap, junky, exploitative slasher flick particularly in the early 1980's. Don't be fooled because "The Howling" is a nearly goofy horror-comedy with the mildest of serious overtones. It is director Joe Dante playing the game by almost decimating all genre conventions and he keeps the werewolf tongue firmly in its cheek. Ahhh, and those werewolf transformations.

The setting has an otherworldly quality as it is set in a colony somewhere in the California countryside. The supposedly rehabilitative colony owned by a renown therapist (Patrick MacNee) is actually a piece of beautiful scenery occupied by local odd ducks such as John Carradine playing a lonely man who wants to end it all; the local smiling sheriff (Slim Pickens); a peeping tom-type who already looks like a werewolf (Don McLeod), and most memorably a Wiccan-looking nymphomaniac named Marsha Quist, Eddie's sister (Elisabeth Brooks exuding mystery and sex appeal in equal droves), who has her eyes set on Karen's protective husband (Christopher Stone). These colony denizens like to party with barbecue and beers but they also have a touch of the lycanthropy in them - they transform into huge werewolves. They tear your skin, disembowel you and also enjoy sex. What a weird colony! 

"The Howling" is not be taken seriously but there are moments that are more spooky than scary with a grain of wicked humor throughout. Eddie Quist as played by Robert Picardo remains a fearsome killer who doesn't stop from transforming even when acid is thrown in his face - his particular fascination with stalking Karen is never made clear but, then again, it need not be. When he says without a trace of irony, "I want to give you a piece of my mind" and actually pierces his brain - yuck! There is also some funny business with Dick Miller as a bookshop owner with dozens of books on all sorts of subjects including werewolves ("They are worse than cockroaches!"). For inside jokes (other than the placement of books like Allen Ginsberg's "Howl," of all things, and footage of Lon Chaney, Jr. from "The Wolf Man"), there are some nice digs at the world of broadcast journalists pre-"Broadcast News" and dozens of amusing cameos from the likes of Roger Corman to Kenneth Tobey to even cinematographer Michael Chapman who lensed "Raging Bull."  

What works in the film best is the visual imagery of this Californian colony in the woods - it has a sense of the forbidden and is reminiscent of a fairy-tale setting. You half expect to see Little Red Riding Hood in many of the moonlit-night scenes. We hear more howling in the woods than we actually see the superwolves themselves, a clever touch and a budgetary issue according to director Joe Dante. But this helps the film more than it hinders and we get an amazing werewolf transformation of Eddie Quist as his sickly pale skin pops on his forehead and his canine mouth protrudes - easily some of the best effects you will see along with "An American Werewolf in London," which was released the same year.

I shan't leave out Dee Wallace, a remarkably good actress who shows enough vulnerability and flashes of courage in Karen to make us care (though one scene where she reacts to her dead friend leaves a lot to be desired). She holds this movie together along with her then-husband Christopher Stone (who passed away in 1995). Also well used is Joe Dante regular Belinda Balaski as a journalist and photographer who pieces together the mystery of this colony. The werewolves howl on cue and some of them like their hamburgers rare. Really rare. 

Laurie Strode Saga Finale

 HALLOWEEN ENDS (2022)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I have taken exception with the "Halloween" sequels for years, if for no other reason other than their underimagined need not to exploit the supernatural possibilities. Lord, they have tried. Blumhouse's "Halloween" trilogy that began in 2018, 40 years after the John Carpenter classic, has taken on a new approach. With the exception of a glorified cameo by Jamie Lee Curtis as the PTSD-stricken Laurie Strode in "Halloween Kills," the approach was to expand Laurie's character and to show her as an aged Ripley in action. She can't get past the trauma of that dreaded Halloween night in 1978 and had turned her house into a death trap (the one inspired touch in the 2018 reboot). Comparing the first two chapters in this newfangled trilogy is like comparing a ripe banana with an over-rippened black banana. Yet "Halloween Ends" (clever title) is far superior to either sequel and has many twists and turns that I didn't see coming. This time, Michael Myers has the glorified cameo.

The opening sequence is a stunner. A young teenager named Corey (Canadian actor Rohan Campbell) is babysitting a rambunctious kid who loves watching John Carpenter's "The Thing" (nice touch echoing the original with its 1951 counterpart) and loves to scare everyone on Halloween. We are all entitled to a good scare, and Corey gets locked in the attic by the kid. Finally Corey kicks the door open only to accidentally kill the kid who falls to his death. We cut to opening titles and it is startling how this movie begins - they had me at male babysitter with no Michael Myers. Where is this movie going? What is happening? These are good, rare questions to ask when it comes to the umpteenth Michael Myers slasher flick. 

Laurie Strode does return in more than just a glorified cameo. She is writing a memoir of her trauma-laden days surviving Michael Myers' endless attacks and she is just as winning a personality as she ever was - in fact, this Laurie flips the bird and curses like a sailor. She's living with her granddaughter Allyson (Andi Matichak, maximizing her potential in a terrific performance) who works at the hospital with a mean boss (yeah, you can guess what might happen to her boss). Corey, meanwhile, works at his father's auto salvage yard and is trying to come to grips with his own past trauma (the town's residents hate him), only he doesn't handle it well AT ALL. Let's just say that Corey has a run-in with Michael Myers who has been hiding for three years and hasn't killed a single soul (not even the homeless man who lives near the dank sewers beneath the bridge). Michael Myers did not kill anyone in three years? Say it ain't so, Mikey. He also looks like a phantom of his murderous self who has problems walking around (this does happen when you are an immobile 60-plus-year old) and keeps a dirty, blood-stained knife in a brick wall. 

So Corey has trauma issues, doesn't get along with his parents, yet is falling for Allyson! Laurie Strode is single, still facing neighbors who hate her for somehow resurrecting Mikey Myers and his body count, albeit in a figurative sense, and may have a thing for the sheriff's deputy (Will Patton, in an even more abbreviated role than the previous installments). Laurie also understands what Corey is going through, initially tries to counsel him yet senses imminent danger ahead with this troubled kid. Allyson is drawn to Corey and wants to escape Haddonfield - everyone is afflicted by the the town's past murders and can't seem to move forward. Cue the Haddonfield DJ who has no qualms waxing on about those gruesome murders.

I will not reveal what occurs in this highly entertaining and sublimely paced sequel and that is not something I ever expected to say or write about this endless franchise. Suffice to say, director and co-writer David Gordon Green has taken the reins and unleashed a lean, mean and, dare I say, psychological thriller with slasher tendencies. Those slasheroos are hardly as gory as the previous entries and I was still in shock and awe as to how it ends. The Laurie Strode Saga is over and I am actually sorry to see it end. It is signed, sealed and delivered with visual echoes of the original 1978 shocker final montage, another splendid touch. The formerly grief-stricken, sardonic Haddonfield heroine, Laurie, has been through enough. 

Lots of pain but not much soul

HELLRAISER (2022)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

The "Hellraiser" sequels never rose to the depths of depravity of the 1987 film that started it all, nor did they come close to Clive Barker's novella itself "The Hellbound Heart." The depravity went straight to the jugular with the singular characters who equated pain with pleasure - pain was pure ecstasy to them, like a psychedelic drug. So when those dreaded Cenobites (Demons from Hell) came knocking after some poor soul unlocking a puzzle box known as the Lament Configuration, the chains branched out of some dimension and pierce flesh in horrific ways. Maybe the very idea that this was an orgasmic delight to those who wish to see incredible sights in Hell was too much for audiences. That is why I am puzzled that director David Cronenberg never took the directing reins of this reboot/remake - it sounds like it would be up his pulled-flesh-and-severed-organs alley. Yet here we are with a half-hearted yet intriguing "Hellraiser" remake that devises new characters and new situations though they never come close to hitting a home-run, or at least they don't merit flinging those piercing iron chains quite enough to sustain the horror the original film had. 

Pamela Segall's daughter Odessa A'zion plays a pill-popping, not-quite rehabilitated drug user, Riley, who lives with her wearily overprotective brother, Matt (Brandon Flyn) and his boyfriend, Colin (Adam Faison). The brother keeps tabs on who Riley is seeing and where she goes during the night. After a while, I became a bit bored with their constant back-and-forth sibling arguments and bickering. We, the audience, are meant to gravitate towards Riley though her character is far too undernourished (considering the film is two hours long, we should be privy to more character exploration). Riley's semi-boyfriend, Trevor (Drew Starkey), has gotten hold of a shipping container that just contains that creepy puzzle box. I almost want to say that this is a gag but we are meant to take this seriously - a huge empty shipping container that just holds that small puzzle box? Nevertheless, it comes from an antique-collecting billionaire, Voight (Goran Višnjić), who lives in a Lament Configuration-type fortress where the iron doors can keep the Cenobites away. Why those iron doors stop Cenobites from walking towards their intended victims, I can't say. That is not a detail I am familiar with from past "Hellraiser" stories, nor the nifty device of having the puzzle box eject a sharp blade. The billionaire who has dealt with the Cenobites has a golden contraption in his body and needs major transfusions of blood to eject himself from this contraption. Enter the Cenobites and their bloody gifts, though surprisingly the movie shows precious little gore.

"Hellraiser" is far too long, spending an inordinate amount of time on Riley and her brother and his love interest - none of it did anything except make me snooze a little. A'zion has the charisma and the potential to go a lot further with Riley's character than the writers have allowed - the best they can do for her is have her teary-eyed and scream when expected. The rest of the cast is far from making their mark in this endless horror franchise (excepting the far too brief role of Serena (Hiam Abbass), Voight’s assistant who has a run-in with the Cenobites). Jamie Clayton, however, as the androgynous Pinhead (Hell Priest to Barker devotees) is chillingly magnetic to watch, matching pretty well with Doug Bradley's iconic incarnation. Kudos to the other Cenobites who are still repellent creatures with the prerequisite body modification and piercings - there is something eerily beautiful about them at the same time.

"Hellraiser" is watchable horror, at least for 2/3 of it, but it just doesn't have the chattering bite of the original. The pain-as-pleasure theme is not present here - we just see a lot of screaming pain and a lot of piercing hooks cutting into flesh. I just wish, for once, we would see those incredible sights that Pinhead keeps talking about. All that suffering for naught. 

Literal Witch Hunts

THE CRUCIBLE (1996)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Original review from 1996

 
Period films based on literary masterpieces range from the superior ("Age of
Innocence," "The Remains of the Day") to the detrimental ("The Scarlet
Letter"). "The Crucible" falls somewhere in between and, although it is not a
great film, it is certainly a passionate, powerful film that does justice to
Arthur Miller's spectacular 1953 play. Its power has not been diminished on the
big screen.

"The Crucible" is set during the 17th century when an array of witch hunts
began, mostly led by the teenage girls who were accused. Set in 1692, the movie
starts off with a devilish ceremony where a group of girls are ranting in the
woods of Salem, Massachusetts, performing an unholy ritual. Abigail (Winona
Ryder) is the master of ceremonies, and she drinks animal blood to destroy the
wife of the man she loves. This unholy practice is witnessed by Abigail's
uncle, Reverend Parris (Bruce Davison), and a witchcraft trial commences the
next day. And almost immediately, the accusations, denials and name-calling
begins - Abigail and the others decide to fool everyone into thinking that the
devil is visible, but visible only to them.

Numerous innocent townspeople are accused, including John Proctor (Daniel
Day-Lewis), a farmer who had a brief affair with Abigail and is now married to
his strictly devout wife, Elizabeth (Joan Allen). Abigail's form of revenge is
to accuse the reverent Elizabeth of witchcraft - at this point, any of these
girls can accuse anyone in town of witchcraft no matter how false the claims
may be (they go through extreme measures to prove them, too). The trials
continue and destroy many lives (mostly by hanging). Paul Scofield plays Judge
Danforth who overlooks the trials, and decides that if the accused confess to
their demonic ways, they will not be hanged. He presides over the trial with
doubts but is inclined to believe that demons of another kind have infiltrated
this town.

"The Crucible" is a startling, alert interpretation of the Miller play, which
should come as no surprise since Miller wrote the screenplay himself. The
performances by the young actresses are over-the-top but necessarily so, to
establish the lengths of their insane accusations. Winona Ryder is effectively
hateful as the angry, vengeful Abigail (a far cry from her role in "Little
Women"), a frail, demonic child ready to pounce. Daniel Day-Lewis is also
superb as the brave, decent Proctor who simultaneously finds his soul being
eaten away by Abigail and his love growing stronger for Elizabeth. Joan Allen
("Nixon") gives the most understated performance as the seemingly frigid
Elizabeth, and her final scene with Proctor is heartbreaking to witness. And
let's not forget the overpoweringly magnetic Paul Scofield ("Quiz Show"), a
delectable presence whenever he's on screen spouting his lines with gusto and
verve. Another Academy Award nomination is in order for this grand actor of the
cinema, in addition to the whole cast.

If "The Crucible" falls short of greatness, it is because director Nicholas
Hytner ("The Madness of King George") plunges us into a sea of excess right
from the start, giving us little time to catch up with the story or the
characters (Ryder's portrayal of Abigail is nutty and vicious from the
beginning). Still, this beautifully mounted version summons the rage, hatred
and madness of those rough times with knowing cinematic skill, and doesn't
commit the fatal flaw of becoming a static, filmed play.