trailer tuesday

this week's entry is for hideo gosha's three outlaw samurai (1964).

as part of the preliminary to fantastic fest, the alamo drafthouse is showing a pair of gosha's beautifully dark samurai films. alas, three outlaw samurai was last night, but you still have the opportunity to see bandits vs. samurai squadron (1978) next monday, 9.19.11, at 7 p.m. i heartily recommend it. it's free if you have any type of fantastic fest badge. if you're not a badgeholder you can purchase tickets here.

you complete me

in conjunction with severin films' much anticipated release of alejandro jodorowsky's santa sangre (1989) on dvd, the alamo drafthouse held a special screening of the film tonight and it was every bit the hallucinatory abattoir that was expected.

the film opens with our protagonist, fenix, having been institutionalized for a number of years. as a young boy he traveled with the circus del gringo as the boy magician in the troupe. his mother, concha, was an aerialist and devoted the rest of her time to the zealous worship of an armless girl whom she had proclaimed a saint. his father was a philandering knife-thrower whose erotic performances, in the center ring and out, with the tattooed lady enraged the wife. she caught him in flagrante delicto, somewhere between the battle of waterloo and the wreck of the hesperus.

it didn't go well. the wife doused the husband's offending extremity with acid and, in return, he pinned her to the bullseye and cut both her arms off. he then stumbled - naked, bleeding, and with the smoldering crater where his penis used to be - back toward the circus where he slit his own throat and fell amidst the scavenging feral dogs that wandered the city at night. guess who had a front row seat for this carnage. that's right. li'l fenix. to top it off, the tattooed lady scooped up alma, her deaf-mute mime stepdaughter and fenix's crush, and hustled off into the night. in one violent burst, fenix was left with nothing - his family completely, quite literally destroyed and his only love spirited away into the night. you can't blame a kid for taking an extended mental vacation in the wake of this. at least, i can't.

the asylum has its diversions, to say the least. a field trip to the movies with a group of young men with down syndrome takes an unexpected turn when a pimp that is the jodorowsky equivalent of honest john foulfellow in pinocchio (1940) waylays them in the lobby and takes them to a pleasure island rife with cocaine and tranny prostitutes. waking rejuvenated after this pivotal evening's events, fenix hears his mother calling to him from the window, escapes and is reunited with her. reunited may not be a strong enough word. fused may be more like it. he becomes her arms and their cabaret act is a sensation but the toll it takes on the population of women that fenix might be interested in certainly doesn't boost attendance. the silent and saintly alma returns, acting as intercessor between fenix and his demons until mother tries to show her the door.

a brief synopsis like this really can't do it justice. i am leaving a number of important and bizarre details out - the elephant funeral, the boa constrictor in the pants, whitewashing corpses, the hilarious product placement atop the apothecary van. tip of the iceberg. this thing is a cacophonous riot of ripe symbolism, grotesque sexuality and explosive violence, all unique to the fevered brain of one man. jodorowsky is one of the handful of filmmakers whose work you have to approach on its own terms. all those things you know about how a film should work? throw them away. this is such an idiosyncratic collision of sex, death and the church that you only have the lexicon it generates in its two hours to go on. it is so intensely personal (jodorowsky's sons play the lead at different ages, adding just one more psychological strand to unravel) that it seems written in a language only one man truly understands. that shouldn't dissuade you from digging into it, though. it is a most rewarding puzzle.

the church doesn't fare so well in jodorowsky's universe. an initial clash between concha and a monsignor over the destruction of her temple serves as just the first of many instances that underscore the fine line between faith and fanaticism. both figures have flocks they are administering to and both are rigid and inflexible, each possessed of a righteousness that cannot make room for the other's needs, resulting in the eradication of concha's holy place. her zeal almost results in her destruction as well, were it not for her love of her son. the ugly patriarchy wins the battle for this small piece of land and maternity and devotion to a holy ideal loses. the gender identity/sexuality issues at play in this are almost beyond belief, again requiring your viewing, as my descriptions would fall woefully short. even if we completely ignored the "son becomes part of the mother" angle, there is a never-ending parade of sexually nebulous hookers, luchadores and circus folk that confound all of your senses. the mother-son relationship? working your way through that entitles you to a spot on the medal stand at the oedipal olympics. fenix even none too subtly claws at his own eyes at one point toward the end of the film. alma's return as the mute harlequin angel makes me think of nothing so much as how it is only in retrospect that we can sometimes distinguish between what is salvation and what is merely temptation. she offers freedom and release but, by the time she finds fenix again, it is only from one purgatory into another. the angel arrived too late and there must be atonement and, as concha so pointedly puts it, "you can't atone for your sins with nightmares".

i could write about it here until my arms fall off but that wouldn't help you all that much. what i really want to do is just encourage you to see the film. it is not academic, not an exercise. it is visceral. it is something you must experience to get the full impact. it demands to be seen. it came along for me once twenty years ago at a crucial time in the development of my appreciation of film and performed a crucial function. it is a landmark film for me because it was one of the first things i ever saw that was so off the rails. it was one of the first cinematic experiences i had that so thoroughly demonstrated that, this time, there is no map for where we're going and one of my first encounters with a genuine auteur. there is truly nothing else like it and, while it is flawed, i can't tell you how encouraging it was for me, as a young man, to find it. it was like uncharted territory. i felt like the cinematic equivalent of lewis and clark and you guys know what a great feeling that is. now, here it comes again twenty years later to do that for someone else and to remind me to keep finding those boundaries and pushing past them.

the severin dvd release of this will be available on tuesday 1.25.11. it's also packed with over five hours of extras. it's so great to see this beautiful, perplexing film finally getting the treatment it deserves. watch it with your mom!

starlite winter break

hey, gang. the latter half of january is full of work schedule changes, a skydiving trip and band business. as a result, starlite cinema is taking the month off. not to worry, though. we will be back in february with a valentine's program that will more than make up for our absence. until then, consider these alternatives to fill that starlite-shaped hole in your heart:

my beloved paramount theater is showing a doozy of a double feature on the 13th, 14th and 16th. for less than a sawbuck you get both out of the past (1947) and laura (1944), two of the finest from hollywood's golden age of film noir. twists, turns, crosses and double crosses. a man would do a lot of wrong things for a dame like jane greer. and by a man, i mean me.

also at the paramount this month is a pairing of james whale's frankenstein (1931) and abbott and costello meet frankenstein (1948). dracula and the wolf man also get in on the action to make it a monster bonanza! look for those shows on the 21st and 22nd.

if neither of those options is funky enough for you the alamo drafthouse has the cure. for music monday on the 17th they are showing james brown live at the boston garden (1968). this concert took place the day after martin luther king, jr. was killed. brown insisted the show must go on and others conceded that it might do more harm than good to cancel this concert in one of the few major metropolitan areas that wasn't rioting at the time. WGBH pitched in to broadcast it live, urging people to stay home, off the streets, and enjoy the show. the godfather puts on one of the best shows you'll ever see. just two bucks!

arthouse at the jones center also hosts special screenings. this month's offerings begin with tampopo (1985) on the 9th and include a couple of more experimental programs later in the month. these screenings are held in the arthouse community room and are free unless otherwise noted. here is their screening schedule.

and if you'd like to come see what it is that we do, musically, you can come to one of our shows at the end of the month. we are very excited to be helping our dear friend alexa woodward celebrate the release of her new record, "it's a good life honey if you don't grow weary". here is but one reason why you should come.

damn, i love that song. we will be with her in austin at the central presbyterian church (one of the best listening rooms in town, as it turns out) on the 27th, in huntsville on the 28th and nacogdoches on the 29th. if you can make it out we would love to see you.

sorry again about no starlite this month. believe me, it hurts me more than it hurts you. back soon with details about the february program.

closing in on the gods

fantastic fest, the world's best genre film festival, is well underway and i finally had a day off to take in as much of it as i could. once again, it exceeded expectations.

i started the day at the alamo drafthouse and first on the agenda was an afternoon screening of roger corman's x: the man with the x-ray eyes (1963). this is one of my favorite mad scientist movies and, as corman goes, ranks just behind the poe adaptations he made with vincent price. actually, it's a bit unfair to refer to ray milland's character as mad. he is a visionary (zing!). dr. james xavier develops eyedrops which make your vision so acute that you can actually see through things. his noble aim is to use it to help mankind, beginning in the hospital where he works. as a diagnostic tool, it will make x-rays primitive, suitable for "witch doctors". as is often the case with those ahead of their time, his work is met with a mixture of misunderstanding and fear. he begins to experiment on himself with increasing frequency and a series of desperate acts/accidents forces him into hiding. he has become both mad scientist and his own misunderstood creation, simultaneously. it's as entertaining and thought-provoking a piece as corman ever came up with. ray milland, a heavyweight in decline, brings a certain gravitas to the picture that karloff or price, as much as i love them, couldn't have. don rickles shows up and turns in a rare and effective dramatic performance. the "spectarama" effects, which show you the point of view of our afflicted doctor, are a riot of color and light and the costly nature of vision weighs heavily on all concerned. just exactly how much is too much to see? it begins playfully enough, with a nice touch of exploitation humor that uncovers all the kids and colleagues at a party but by the end, when no amount of darkness is enough, there is nothing left for the man to do but pluck out the eye that offends him.

more than once, milland covers his stricken eyes in a telling pose that looks like nothing as much as grief. closing his eyes does no good. he finally suffers the worst fate that can befall a man of science, a desire to see no more. it is only then that he has truly gone mad. he has begun to see things we cannot comprehend. he is, as he said, "closing in on the gods".

then the man himself dropped by and entertained everyone with anecdotes and fielded questions from the audience. he talked about everything from the conundrum of having a hit versus having critical acclaim (and having both) to working with vincent price and ray milland to his festival experience so far. he was quite an engaging guy and after all this time he is still trying to make sure his audiences get their money's worth. mission accomplished today, roger.

next up was jorge michel grau's we are what we are (2010). this is a grim family drama from mexico which begins with the unexpected death of the patriarch, leaving three siblings and a mother who may be a bit unstable to fend for themselves. and did i mention they were cannibals?

the film follows this somewhat hapless bunch, adrift without their father/husband, as they attempt to round up food/a subject for the ritual they believe perpetuates them. the genre elements are downplayed in this, for the most part, and that works in the film's favor. i still didn't think, though, that it realized its full potential. it was good, not great. it was most effective when it started to edge into other taboo areas aside from the cannibalism. issues and intimations of sexuality, both within and without the home, provided the most interesting scenes for viewers to sink their teeth into but they weren't developed in a fashion that sustained any momentum. it is somewhat strange to say it, but i wish even more time had been spent on these thornier questions, possibly at the expense of the horror elements altogether. it could have been a much better horror film if the horror was left out.

the last film of my evening was a screening of snake in the eagle's shadow (1978) that was taking place at the paramount theater. this was part of of an evening of programming devoted to yuen woo-ping that also included a showing of true legend (2010) and a lifetime achievement award presented by none other than the RZA himself. i missed the first half of all that but got there in time for master yuen's q and a and the second feature. for those of you unfamiliar with yuen woo-ping, he has been one of the most revolutionary figures in hong kong action cinema for the last thirty years. his fight choreography is always dazzling and innovative. he is the bridge from the shaw brothers kung fu theater of the sixties and seventies to the visually arresting wire work extravaganzas that are prevalent now. snake in the eagle's shadow was his directorial debut and is every bit as fun today as it was in 1978. it doesn't stray far from the rival schools/betrayal mold of kung fu films, but it doesn't have to. it is personality plus. this is the film that took a young jackie chan (then billed as jacky) and set him on the path that would make him a household name. it jettisoned the "new bruce lee" thing he had been saddled with in favor a funnier, more acrobatic approach that has been his hallmark ever since and it changed the hong kong film industry in the process. master yuen's father, yuen siu tien, is perfectly cast as the master of the snake fist style who takes chan under his wing as they head toward a final showdown with the evil practitioners of the eagle claw style. their chemistry makes for a winning combination and it's a testament to their rapport that the most memorable piece of choreography in the entire film isn't a fight scene but, rather, their spirited game of keepaway with a rice bowl. description/photos won't do any of this justice. you have to see it in motion.

if you like martial arts films at all, i highly recommend you check out master yuen's body of work and this film is a fine, and fun, place to start.

all in all, a pretty great day. well done, fantastic fest. i think i'll get at least one more full day in on wednesday. talk to you then, if not sooner.

come on up to the hausu

dear lord, i don't even know where to start with this thing.

janus films is currently touring a print of nobuhiko obayashi's hausu (1977) to select theaters around the country in advance of a rumoured dvd release on criterion in early september. we are lucky enough to have it this week in austin at the alamo drafthouse. there's really nothing i can say to accurately describe this film to you. just forget everything you know about how a movie should be made and give in to the mad logic that exists nowhere else except the 88 minutes captured within.

it starts off simply enough. a group of schoolgirls, after a disappointing change in plans, decide to go to one of the girls' aunt's house for summer vacation to have an idyllic getaway in the countryside. now, when i say simply enough, you have to understand that by this point i have already accepted the conditions obayashi has laid out for us. for, in this seemingly simple introduction, he has already thrown every visual trick in the cinematic book at us - stop motion, all manner of dissolves, fades and wipes, inexplicable slow motion, iris in/out - not to mention aborted musical numbers and a stepmother who apparently takes a wind machine everywhere she goes. take all that and cram it into an early 80's sitcom, a la the facts of life and you're beginning to get a general idea.

then it gets weird.

unfortunately, this bunch's mrs g. isn't nearly as nice. turns out the girl's aunt is the ghost of cannibal witch. yeah, i said it. as soon as the girls arrive it doesn't take long for the fat one to disappear. but don't worry. she shows up again.

and, wouldn't you know it, she's still hungry.

the girls each begin to suffer increasingly bizarre fates at the hands of this demonic house, all seemingly instigated by blanche, the aunt's supernaturally gifted cat - possessions, made into clocks, eaten by lamps. poor melody suffers the most ironic punishment, though. the piano decides to make a snack of her as she plays the lilting theme music of the film.

apparently, having a murderous steinway chomp off most of your fingers is only mildly interesting. at worst, it is just confusing. you don't really worry about it until it takes one off at the wrist.

goodbye, carnegie hall! toss in a tidal wave of cat's blood and a scene with their would-be rescuer, mr. togo, that is simply bananas and you're in the home stretch. a little denouement with stepmom and her wind machine and all is in its proper place.

in a nutshell, you simply have to see it to believe it. you'll certainly never see anything else like it, i am certain of that. it is a genre of one. most folks will have to wait until the dvd release in september, but if you are lucky enough to live in one of the cities where it will be playing over the next couple of months, i recommend you catch it in the theater. this much lunacy is a bargain at any price, much less the cost of one movie ticket. it will be an experience unlike any other you've had. take a friend!

let's all go to the lobby

hello, and welcome to the new blog. still hate that word, blog.

as some of you folks know, my friend bobby and i are working on putting together a film podcast series. the format/content of said podcast is going to be pretty specific so i thought i might give myself somewhere to put everything else. this is going to be the spot to discuss all the things that don't (and some that do) fit under the umbrella of our other endeavor. this will be the home for the rants, the new release information, quickly organized field trips to the alamo drafthouse and the paramount theater and any number of other things, most of which will have something to do with the movies.

there won't be a focus on a particular genre or time frame, though i do have my tendencies. when you drop in here just think of yourself as dickie in stymie's taxicab - we're freewheelin'.

feel free to leave comments/send emails. thanks.