High Comically Frenzied Art

 THE GRAND BUDAPEST HOTEL (2014)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(One of the best films of the 2010 era)

I have admired the idiosyncratic and preciously designed films of Wes Anderson but I wasn't quite anticipating this superb discovery of a 2014 film. "The Grand Budapest Hotel" seems to push the boundaries of Anderson's previous films, evoking more of a comic spirt and liveliness that doesn't seem to echo anything I've ever seen before. It is the first cartoonish comedy I've seen that actually looks animated - nothing in it looks or resembles anything that actually exists and that makes it doubly special.

The most liberally perfumed man in Europe is Monsieur Gustave H. (a brilliant tour de force role played by Ralph Fiennes), the Grand Budapest Hotel's exceptional and precise concierge (I am sure he is meant to encapsulate the perfectionism of the film's director). He is so precise that even as he tells the "LOBBY BOY" all the tasks he needs to perform in a desired time frame, he kind of stops himself - too much precision may be a bad thing. The film begins with an author of the book, aptly titled "The Grand Budapest Hotel," narrating until it switches to F. Murray Abraham as the elderly Zero (the lobby boy in the 1930's section played with perfect timing by Tony Revolori) in the 1960's telling his incredible, hypnotic adventures dealing with Monsieur Gustave H. The concierge bedded many wealthy, elderly dowagers and also has an inheritance that includes a sought-after painting called "The Boy with Apple" thanks to his latest relations with Madame D. (Tilda Swinton), the owner of the hotel who has passed on. Naturally, nobody from Madame D's family wants Gustave to acquire any of her money or acquisitions as mentioned in a will. 

Most of "The Grand Budapest Hotel" is an absurdist comedy of epic proportions, and no shot is ever wasted and no frame or composition seems to be simple. The film would probably require multiple viewings just to catch all the references and subtle clues. I've seen it twice before and I still am not sure I caught everything - the constant whip pans from one enormous space to another makes you quiver in your boots at the sheer magic of it all. The hotel is a grand design with so many windows, floors, and spacious hallways that you might think this hotel is the biggest of its kind in the world. Scenes of cable cars, prisons, interior train cars, wintry outdoor shots of skiers skiing much faster than humanly possible and so much more are intricately designed and shot - every interior is as ornate and as grandiloquent as any film I've seen since possibly anything directed by Visconti. Expansive on a level unseen before by Wes Anderson, "The Grand Budapest Hotel" is a true marvel to witness. 

The actors all perform up to the speed and clarity Anderson invests upon this world hinted as a specific time and place that no longer exists. Ralph Fiennes is a revelation, and so is the Tony Revolori as the lobby boy Zero - the scenes of him running around the hotel or on rooftops exude a breezy comic feel (I just laugh looking at him). There are also peak notes of hilarity from absurdist characters played by Jeff Goldblum as a moralistic lawyer; Harvey Keitel as a bald, tattooed prisoner; Saoirse Ronan as Zero's girlfriend with a major birthmark on the right side of her face; Willem Dafoe as some sort of cretinous hitman who throws cats out of windows, and Edward Norton as a sharp police detective. 

I was just swept away by "The Grand Budapest Hotel" more so than Anderson's other films. I never felt as if everything was too stagy or beyond comprehension (unlike say "The Darjeeling Limited"). An original work of high and comically frenzied art from a master director.  

Women are like salt. You can do without, but it's lousy.

 DO YOU REMEMBER DOLLY BELL? (1981)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I've always had a fondness for watching adolescents and their view of the world as they mature. "Do You Remember Dolly Bell?" is almost a Truffaut picture of adolescence, rough and raw and completely realistic. Only this directorial debut by Bosnian director Emir Kusturica is not quite "The 400 Blows" - it has its own microcosmic view of a world that seems in ruins and yet optimism flourishes through one kid.

Set in 1963 Sarajevo (pre-Civil War), the world is seen through the eyes of 16-year-old Dino (Slavo Stimac) whose daily mantra is "Every day in every way I'm getting better and better." He recites this with his friends especially while dunking his head in water and trying to shift his eyes several times. They are about to form a band and there is one single solitary song they are commissioned to sing - "24 mila baci" (about the only song that ever plays on the soundtrack). Slobodan Aligrudic is Otac, the drunk and sickly father with Communist leanings who regularly speaks of Marxism and controls their tiny apartment not as a tyrant, but a tough demanding father who knows what's happening in every corner. He believes in the ideals of Marx but his son is prone to hypnotism and auto-suggestion, thinking it works on everyone including prostitutes. Ah, he's just a kid, what does he know. The father, though, implicitly sees that Dino has an intelligence that goes beyond his other sons, one of whom dictates what his father says in a notebook. 

Dino has five brothers and they live with their parents in this small, cramped apartment with a bed facing their living room. Dino also has a fixation on a prostitute named Dolly Bell (Ljiljana Blagojevic), adopting the name of an actress, who is housed in Dino's attic. She is to be kept there until her oily pimp returns. Dino falls for Dolly yet something always threatens this sweet relationship (the pimp notwithstanding). Dino's world is coming apart as his dad is slowly dying. There is quite a moving scene where the whole family looks at the patriarch's X ray knowing the end is coming. Otac takes it in stride. And so does Dino.

"Do You Remember Dolly Bell?" is Kusturica's amazingly absorbing directorial debut and it curates Dino as this young novice who is smart and alert to his world, a Socialist world of diminishing impact. Roughly hewn as a semi-documentary, the lighting changes from a grainy, overcast unblinkingly raw look to a subtle use of shadows to rare bursts of color that goes beyond its documentary look (the color film of actress Dolly Bell, dressed in red, as seen by a young audience; Dino drenched from the rain as he listens to Dolly, the prostitute, having sex while a faint yellow lamp light or flashlight shines on him). Maybe this is all to illustrate that Dino feels this gray world might change but he knows it will be sometime before it happens, if at all. At least he finds solace in singing "24 mila baci." 

Repetitive Monsters on the Loose

 THE CABIN IN THE WOODS (2011)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I firmly believe that "The Evil Dead" has been one of the most influential horror films of the last 40 years. Ash himself is an icon but it seems his character has been less influential. Case in point would be "The Cabin in the Woods" which has an intriguing premise and not one character that carries a smidgeon of Ash's personality. Not one, but the filmmakers sure try in replicating the horror with a tongue in cheek attitude.

Five friends take off on a road trip through the mountains to a fairly small log cabin. Okay, so it is the same size as the one from "Evil Dead" - in fact, it is a replica. Naturally not one of these younglings ever heard of "The Evil Dead" or else they would not have come to this remote area. The gas station owner is odd and sees young women, such as Jules (Anna Hutchison), as nothing but whores. Nice guy. He gives directions to this cabin, as they often do in these movies, yet I am shocked how the gas stations are always in decrepit condition and, in this particular case, he is not even selling gas! We still get the obligatory shot of the gas station owner looking rather ominously at the group as they take off in their RV. Gee, whatever could be wrong with that cabin.

A lot is wrong. There is a two-sided mirror through two adjoining rooms, though only one is see-through. Jules is dared during their Truth or Dare game to lick and kiss a wolf's head on the wall! Chris Hemsworth, by the way, plays her boyfriend though I'd feel uncomfortable with my girlfriend lustfully licking anything in front of other guys. One guy is a weed addict (Fran Kranz) and conspiracy theorist. Perfect because it turns out that their cabin is being surveilled by some underground lab that monitors their every move. Monsters and zombies start to emerge from the ground and attack and kill these kids, much to the delight of lab technicians and engineers, two of them memorably played by Richard Jenkins and Bradley Whitford. Apparently this vast network of a lab controls similar scenarios in other countries and if the victims win against their monstrous threat, the word FAIL appears in red letters on their innumerable monitors. Why this is encouraged when the participants are unaware they are being tested or how this is some sort of sick variation on "The Hunger Games" is beyond me.

Great premise with no real logic but who cares. We came for the scares, the monsters and hopefully these kids have a personality. Only the weed kid really does, and he has one hell of a bong that comes equipped with a coffee mug. The monsters bored me - they were just stock monsters. The zombie was stock, the thrills are very few and I hardly cared. During the climax that involves several monsters, they are all CGI created and appear so fleetingly during the frantic cutting of one image to another that it all becomes a blur. There is a fantastic cameo at the end, and I did like the lab employees and their camaraderie and gallows humor. "The Cabin in the Woods" is just not much of a movie - it is an insipid test reel that never gets its motor running. Watch "The Evil Dead" again.

Boring stiffs

 CLASS (1983)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Class" starts off strong with a progressive comic spirit, so strongly that I figured this was going to be a modern day update of Mike Nichols' fabulous "The Graduate." It is imperative that I mention how I can start off by saying how a movie starts strongly (and this is commonplace in reviews) and how it flies off the rails so quickly. The issue here is complete abandonment of a terrific premise for an alleged college comedy.

Andrew McCarthy is the new student at a prestigious prep school (well, how many aren't prestigious?) He is Jonathan Ogner, and he's already made a boo-boo in terms of college etiquette - he has worn his uniform on the day he arrives on campus! I am not sure what the issue is exactly but I went with it. He meets his roommate, Squire Franklin Burroughs IV (Rob Lowe), an upbeat prep student also known as Skip with a knack for partying and fondling uptight women. Skip fools Jonathan into wearing women's underwear outside the school only to be mocked. Jonathan ups the ante and pretends to cry at the cafeteria and hangs himself! Of course it is all a prank and Skip got fooled into believing he committed suicide. So far, so good, so preppie. When Jonathan goes to a bar in Chicago to have a sexual experience, he fails and is consistently mocked until he meets Ellen (Jacqueline Bisset) and they have an affair. It gets steamier and steamier as they have sex in an elevator and in hotel rooms. Jonathan never tells her he is a preppie student, claiming instead to be a Ph.D student. Ellen is older and turns out to be Skip's mother! Whoops, Sexual Apocalypse!

Unfortunately, what starts out as a prankish, almost black-humored "Animal House" tale then develops a sweetness with the striking Bisset, and then becomes self-serious. We have a dinner party at Skip's house where Jonathan is invited and he and Ellen see each other - the affair gets placed in the backburner so as not to reveal to Skip who the mystery woman in Jonathan's life is. Then we are introduced to the patriarch (Cliff Robertson) who doesn't exude an ounce of humor or elegance - he is just a boring stiff. And Ellen starts drinking too much and becomes a neurotic stiff. Likewise Skip. A whole bunch of stiffs stuck in some movie that loses its identity. Then we get too much talk about the SAT's since Jonathan cheated on them and told Skip about it, not to mention an investigation on students' whose SAT's scores do not match their college grades. There is also a muddy fight on rolling muddy hills that goes on far too long. 

"Class" was seemingly designed to be a raunchy version of "The Graduate" and instead it becomes an unironic movie about nothing. Ellen is eventually placed in a mental institution and we get too much of Jonathan's guilt, and somehow whatever comic aspersions were cast erode quickly. Too serious for its own good.

Multiple Personality Disorder Horrors

 IDENTITY (2003)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

James Mangold's "Identity" had me fooled with its twisty twist. I suppose calling it that makes it less M. Night Shyamalan and more Mangoldian twist. I was fooled and despite a very rocky, incongruous beginning, I was eventually swept in by this movie even though I am not sure it is the horror version of "Sybil." "Sybil" was already horrific and based on a true story, and Brian De Palma's "Sisters" and various other multiple personality horror films might be superior yet "Identity" still holds some ground.

From the start, I was immediately put off by the mean-spirited characters and situations that are set-up and then rewound to show how they got there. Well, there isn't much, at first. Amanda Peet is a high-class Las Vegas call girl who wants to move to Florida and have her own orange grove. Her car almost get stuck in a current bad rainstorm. John Cusack is a former cop and now limo driver to a pompous actress (an unrecognizable Rebecca De Mornay). They are also in the midst of this rainstorm and stop at a motel, just like Peet's character, and he runs over a woman on the road! Then there is truly reliable Ray Liotta as a cop bringing in a prisoner (creepy-as-ever Jake Busey) - they also go to the motel because it is only the one available for miles. There is also a family with a young son whose mother is the one that gets runs over by Cusack! I shan't forget Clea DuVall and her new husband and they are as annoying as you can imagine, relegated to screaming matches! Meanwhile, one by one, people get killed at his motel. The motel owner (John Hawkes) is a dubious personality, to say the least. And there is much hate from him towards Peet due to her profession. I would not want to be anywhere near these people. 

"Identity" starts off with a mean streak as these characters are too selfish and do stupid things, like in any slasher flick. Run and scream in the rain, why don't yah? Still, the story picks up speed when we realize there is something ominous at this motel that has more up its sleeve than random killings. Don't quite cue "The Shining" yet because it all evolves with a double twist that knocked my socks off. It was the most surprising ending since maybe Shyamalan's "Unbreakable."

John Cusack always holds my interest and we are pulled along by this mystery just as he is, and it is a major plus to have the presence of Ray Liotta (though I did suspect he wasn't exactly who he said he was). Amanda Peet kind of grated my nerves and Clea DuVall was wasted - a real shame for an actress of such vitality. Overall, a decent effort by director Mangold to suggest a multiple personality disorder frame of mind within the confines of a horror slasher.  

Ruins a perfectly good song

 JEEPERS CREEPERS: REBORN (2022)

Endured by Jerry Saravia

An endurance test is what it feels like for a non-movie, a piece of filth with no brains or insights or even two-dimensional characters worth caring a lick about. That non-movie is called "Jeepers Creepers: Reborn" which is not the latest example of a so-bad-it's-good movie. Don't be fooled my merry gorehounds out there - this alleged sequel reboot is not worthy on the most basic gore level.

Not that "Jeepers Creepers" movies were ever meant for gorehounds. The original "Jeepers Creepers" thrived on imagination, a creative-looking and designed monster, spooky backwoods atmosphere and the comic spirit of Justin Long. This movie has the Creeper but we see too much of him. He also doesn't quite feast on flesh for the 23 days of his expected appearance every 23 years - he kills without provocation. There is a less-than-lively young couple who are headed to a Horror Hound festival (no relation to the convention despite using the same font) somewhere in the backwoods of Louisiana, the state itself which has been green-screened to death. The festival is some sort of carnival with lots of cosplay (though seemingly sparsely populated) and a chance to go to some escape room in a dilapidated old house!

Meanwhile, Creeper is nearby and wants the young woman's baby blood since she is pregnant (she's played by Sydney Craven, unrelated to director Wes, and has appeared in 42 episodes of "East Enders"). Why baby blood? Why a sacrifice and since when does the Creeper have evil cloaked assistants? Oh, the Creeper also knocks out a utility pole and now nobody at Horror Hound has wifi! Bloody hell!

The thinner-than-Stephen-King's-Thinner plot of this makes little sense considering the series itself and the Creeper's own actual agenda as addressed in the original film. The dialogue is banal to the point of sleep-inducing and no character here makes much of an impression. We are saddled with the most soporific horror movie sequel in ages. Just like the record of the title's namesake that is destroyed making the Creeper furious, this movie ruins a perfectly good song and will make your peepers' eyelids shut quickly.  

Myth, Legend, Man

 BARBAROSA (1982)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

The strangest western I've ever seen, most allegorical in terms of religion and surreal backdrops, is Alejandro Jodorowsky's "El Topo," a cult western that has no real equal for what it attempts. The second most strange western I've ever seen is Fred Schepisi's "Barbarosa" which has the unusual casting of Willie Nelson and Gary Busey - both at the top of their game. So is underrated Australian director Fred Schepisi who has fashioned a mythical western with almost no cliches and that is a feat considering the genre's traditional norms.

A naive farm boy named Karl (Gary Busey, with buck teeth) has trouble he's escaping from - he has accidentally killed his brother-in-law with a stick! He's riding his horse when he comes across a legendary, mythical outlaw named Barbarosa (Willie Nelson) - the outlaw has no relation to the Holy Roman Emperor Barbarossa. This aging gunfighter is no John Wayne wannabe or a Clint Eastwood variant; he is simply wanting to get close to his Mexican wife and daughter and has to deal with members of that clan trying to kill him. Each one fails and is killed by Barbarosa. There is the patriarch of that clan, the angry father-in-law Don Braulio (Gilbert Roland), who had his leg shot off by Barbarosa on the day of the outlaw's wedding! Braulio commissions a bunch of gunslingers but only one has the temperament he's seeking to kill that mythic figure and son-in-law, the fiercely committed Eduardo (Danny De la Paz).

Meanwhile, Karl is not adept with a gun or much of anything else but he is a true gentleman and a good kid - he treats Barbarosa with respect. Karl wants to stay with the outlaw as a partner-in-crime, ripping off anyone with money. Barbarosa wants to walk alone in the desert landscape as the revolving door of hired killers runs through his horizon - can he ever truly stay with his Mexican wife (Isela Vega), who longs to leave with her husband, or his daughter (Alma Martinez) whom Karl has a passing interest in?

What is most striking in "Barbarosa" is that desert landscape which seems hazardous to one's health - too many rocks, too many cliffs and a sectional woodsy area that spells death around each tree. Nothing feels quite safe in "Barbarosa" and we get strikingly photographed images that resonate such as the burial of three men with only their heads surfacing above ground  that is memorably eerie; the armadillo that Karl can't quite catch for dinner, and the pristine ranch where Don Braulio lives with his clan. 

"Barbarosa" also has Karl's slowly nuanced transformation from farm hand to a hellish gunfighter who has a vivid, unforgettable final scene that cements this 90-minute western into one of the greats of its genre. It also breaks down the idea of myth, of seeing a man and his infamous name that every Mexican exclaims as one to spin tales about to children and to equate with a devil or demon who can't be killed. Barbarosa is not so much a myth or a demon as much a man trying to support his family. Just a regular joe.