Hot three-way (review) action

The opening scene of Belle de Jour is one of the most clever scenes I can remember seeing. At first, it's a normal scene of marital discontent; then, it's a horrifying scene of domestic abuse, as the woman's husband has the coach drivers carry her into the woods, tie her up, and then (presumably) rape her; it gets a lot more interesting when the woman seems to be into it; and finally, it's revealed that this is all a dream (or a fantasy) by the wife. Director Luis Bunuel seems to have tapped into the forbidden nature of transgressive female sexuality in the 60s -- a wife wasn't expected to like sex, much less have hot dreams about being tied up and raped by strangers. But the rest of the film sorely fails to live up to the promise in the first scene. The young wife, Severine (played by a radiant Catherine Deneuve -- she's always beautiful, but her skin seems exceptionally smooth and bright in this film), won't have sex with her husband, but after she hears about a brothel in the middle of Paris, she goes there and gets hired as Belle de Jour in order to live out her fantasies. It's never quite explained why she won't have sex with her husband, but nevertheless, the movie turns into an episode of Law and Order: SVU after Severine falls for a young thug who comes to see her at the brothel all the time. It's almost as if she's punished for expressing her sexuality the way she does, a move I would expect from a morality piece, but not from Bunuel. The final scene moves away from that moralistic judgement of Severine, but not enough to turn my opinion competely. 7/10 There's no way I could try to defend The Gore Gore Girls as a good movie. Instead, it's relatively entertaining and the epitome of all things H.G. Lewis. The story of a strip club (sort of, the girls are almost never topless and certainly never bottomless) that's being tormented by the brutal murders of their dancers, reporter (maybe? maybe he's just a gent who likes solving mysteries?) Abraham Gentry is recruited for $20,000 by young, hot Nancy Weston from a local newspaper to solve the mystery. I could have sworn that Gentry was supposed to be gay, because he seems really averse to women and is quite the dandy in mannerisms, but the final scene begs not. Anyway, you don't watch a H.G. Lewis film for plot or believeable characters or any of that. The gore is here in full-effect, the goriest Lewis film ever (one of the first rated-X horror films, apparently), and even though it doesn't look real, there's still face-ironing, bare asses being tenderized, an eye gouged, put back in the head, and then taken out again, and much more. It's funny and gross at the same time. So if you can bear some of the worst acting ever (I prefer the ridiculous over-acters to the ones that don't seem like they know they're in a movie) and definitely the worst stripping ever (weirdo dancing to circus music for five minutes that isn't remotely sexy), The Gore Gore Girls is for you. 5/10 By the same token, there's no way I can defend I Know Who Killed Me as a good movie. Maybe there's something about horror movies about strippers that just doesn't work? But for the same reasons I didn't mind watching The Eye remake, I had a good, mindless time watching this one -- and I even watched it all at once (which I don't often do, to be honest). Reason one: I like Lindsay Lohan. I don't know why. I always have, and I was sincerely disappointed when she had that bad summer last year. But she seems to be (more) on track these days, even if she did just win the Razzie for worst actress. I didn't think she was terrible here, a bit out of it in some scenes, but mostly pretty competent. Plus, the girl is pretty hot. Reason two: when it comes to horror/thrillers, I am pretty easily entertained. This movie has some of the biggest plot holes I've ever encountered, and is truly one of those films that's best if you don't think about it at all after you watch it, but there's still some thrills and some really gross gore. So if you're like me, and you can zone out to just about any horror film, get yourself a double bill of The Gore Gore Girls and I Know Who Killed Me. It'll be a fun night (especially with a few beers). 5/10

Stumble It!

French Sex Murders (Ferdinando Merighi, 1972)

Produced by schlock-master Dick Randall, French Sex Murders has the funniest name of almost any movie I've ever seen -- if there was ever a movie that laid it out on that line as to what the film contains, this is it. It's also one of the worse giallos I've ever seen. I read the special feature "About the movie" on the DVD before watching it, and I'm glad I did. It explains, in no-holds-barred text, how several different B-movie stars were hired, and all had different purposes in the film, thus why there's no sense of cohesion whatsoever. Anita Ekberg (who had appeared in, among other things, La Dolce Vita) was hired because she wasn't getting any work and she had a name for the marquee, Rosalba Neri (whom I was shocked to see after just being impressed with her in 99 Women) was hired to be sexy, and Robert Sacchi was hired because he bears an uncanny resemblance to Humphrey Bogart -- as a matter of fact, an alternate title for the film is The Bogeyman and the French Murders. Perhaps some viewers were fooled as to the film's actual star, and only after they had spent their money would they realize that Bogart would never be in a movie like this. The plot is virtually nonexistant, but what is there, is this: girls in a brothel are getting murdered. Who's doing it? I have never seen a movie stretch for time this much (even at only 85 minutes) -- there are scenes where Sacchi makes several phone calls, but doesn't say anything until the final, important one. There are outdoor shots that are 15 seconds long when they only need to be 5. Seriously, it's pretty ridiculous. But I don't want to necessarily discourage anyone from watching this. If you love giallo like I do, there are far worse ways to spend 90 minutes. Be forewarned, though, there's no real gore anywhere in the movie. There are terrible-looking effects that are repeated in five different colors. Trippy and cool-looking, but completely unnecessary. Watchable for only diehard fans of the genre. 5/10

Stumble It!

Images (Robert Altman, 1972)

This Halloween, it appears I am all about the non-traditional horror film. Robert Altman's Images stars Susannah York (who Netflix mistakenly credits for writing the script; it was Altman who both wrote and directed the film, while York is given credit for writing the children's story that features prominently in the plot) as Cathryn, a woman for whom reality is losing its edge. She and her husband Hugh return to the country home where Cathryn grew up with her grandfather, so that she can regain her composure; instead, Cathryn loses her grip totally and begins seeing ghosts. But not scary, bloody ghosts; instead, the ghost of a dead lover Rene, who died in a plane crash years ago, but sure seems real to Cathryn. Another former lover, Marcel, and his daughter Susannah, also visit the house to complicate Cathryn's piece of mind. By the end of the film, the line between reality and delusion has become completely obscured: dead bodies are broken cameras, the vermouth is handed to Cathryn by a ghost, and, in the final twist, no one is who they seem to be in Cathryn's mind. Altman's clever juxtaposition of the character names with the actors' names is slight breaking of the fourth wall that he would play with some more in future films like The Player. And surprisingly, this being American independent film from the early 70s, there is no (or very little) insinuation that it's the man that's making Cathryn lose her mind; I was (surprisingly as well) relieved, because as much as I love feminist subtexts to films, it can be awkward where it doesn't really fit. However, the undertone of female doom in Cathryn's relationship with young Susannah, especially when Susannah tells her "When I grow up, I'm going to be just like you," is delicious. Why this is one of Altman's lesser-known films, I'll never figure out. It is gorgeously directed, particularly the expansive exterior shots of the British countryside. When Cathryn sees her own self watching her from a cliff, it's chilling. Schizophrenia (which we can pretty safely assume Cathryn has, although it's never mentioned in the film) and other serious mental illnesses are truly scary, because you are ultimately defeated by something that is inside of you; how can you stop something that's a part of you? Images is a good predecessor to 3 Women, where a woman extrapolates her inner self onto those around her. When the final twist in Cathryn's story comes, it's tragic and scary, all at once. A fine, underrated gem from one of our all-time best filmmakers. 8/10

Stumble It!

Play it Again, Sam (Herbert Ross, 1972)

One of the only Woody Allen films not directed by the man himself (although he did write the screenplay, and the play on which it was based), Play It Again, Sam starts with Allen rapturously watching Casablanca in the theater, and, once it's over, wishing he had the cool that Humphrey Bogart does. His wife has left him, and his married friends Tony Roberts and Diane Keaton try to set him up with several of their single friends. This always completely fails, as one would expect, but the first blind date scene at Allan's (Allen, humorously enough) apartment is full of slapstick and awkward hilariousness that really had me laughing out loud at several points. The rest of the film is regular Allen territory, focusing on his complete lack of social graces and awkwardness toward the opposite sex. Eventually, he falls in love with Keaton's character, and has a typical Allen crisis of morality, which resolves itself in a wonderful mock-up of the final scene in Casablanca. While this sounds like a typical Allen film (and in most ways, it is), it also becomes wonderfully surreal with the addition of the spectre of Bogart, who comes in at times and tells Allan how to act like a man - get rough with dames, forget them quick, that kind of stuff. The ghostly Bogart is not really like Bogart at all, but is instead what Allan has in his mind of Bogart, and becomes a pretty good parody of typical, film noir masculinity. But, after all is said and done, this is one of Allen's more mainstream films (once, I had a roommate who called Annie Hall weird, and I knew after that, that we'd never be close), but doesn't come close the emotional maturity or even humor of his later works. 7/10 RIYL: Annie Hall

Stumble It!

Love in the Afternoon (Eric Rohmer, 1972)

The last in Eric Rohmer's Six Moral Tales, Love in the Afternoon (sometimes known as Chloe in the Afternoon) is a simple-seeming story of a man, Frederic, who is married to Helene and has two children with her, but meets in the afternoons with Chloe, the ex-girlfriend of an old friend. Rohmer's main moral question in this film is what constitutes cheating? Frederic and Chloe simply meet to talk for most of the movie, and it more or less never gets physical, but is Frederic being faithful to Helene? He admits that he does not want to be in a relationship with a woman who knows all his secrets, and would rather have someone outside the relationship to talk to, but what kind of relationship is that? Chloe reappears in Frederic's life after six years away in America. She is not conventially beautiful, but she is immensely attractive in spite of (or because of) how directionless her life is and how desperate she is. Chloe stays with any man who will offer her something, and while Frederic is at first a target, and also afraid that Chloe is only using him, she stays with him even though he doesn't offer her anything other than a companion to talk to and someone to imagine having a child with. Frederic, as I said, is quiet (but not unhappy) in his marriage to Helene, and he even has an English nanny who walks around naked with whom he could have an affair if he wanted. In Chloe, he finds a companion, a woman with whom he can have a conversation. At first, he seems to be immune to sexual attraction with Chloe, and while that eventually changes, their relationship seems more platonic than sexual at any given moment. Love in the Afternoon is a powerful rumination on the nature of love and lust, and relationships between men and women. As Chloe, Zouzou (anyone know anything about her?) gives a radiant performance, making the audience believe that a loser like Chloe could actually be so luminous to make a man like Frederic fall in love with her. Rohmer leaves the questions very open-ended, and through his non-judgemental exploration on fidelity and adultery, gives us some good insights on the nature of love. I am looking forward to watching more of the Moral Tales. 8/10 RIYL: Truffaut, French New Wave

Stumble It!

Female Convict Scorpion: Jailhouse 41 (Shunya Ito, 1972)

If I had to name one genre to be my favorite, it would have to be Japanese exploitation films of the 1970s. I haven't met one of those films I didn't love, and Meiko Kaji is the superstar of the genre. In this film, and the other films of the Female Convict Scorpion series, Kaji plays Matsu, also known as Scorpion because of how, well, badass she is. The film before Jailhouse 41, I believe, was simply called Female Prisoner Scorpion. In that film, Matsu again was being punished for not bending to the prison guards' will, and, in a fight with another inmate, was responsible (in a roundabout way) for the warden's eye being put out. Jailhouse 41 begins with that warden attempting to get revenge on Matsu for his lost eye, but locking her in the jail's basement for a year. Matsu refuses to go insane, or give the warden any satisfaction by screaming or complaining about her fate. Further punishment, which, like most films of its kind, is based on cruelty and off the wall plot devices, allows Matsu and six other convicts to escape, and the rest of the film is based on those women avoiding capture. Meiko Kaji as Matsu has exactly two lines in the film; the rest of the film is spent giving harsh stares to everyone in her way. Matsu is terrifying and intimidating, and Kaji is perfect in the role. Director Shunya Ito takes what might have been a run of the mill exploitation film and fills it with hallucinatory and psychedelic imagery, bringing in elements of kabuki and other influences in the scenes of the seven sinful women, as the escapees are called. Much more than the average exploitation film, Jailhouse 41 uses color and imagery to present the tortured insides of these convicted women. Truly wonderful! 8/10 RIYL: Kill Bill (ever wonder where QT got his ideas? from Meiko Kaji films, mostly)

Stumble It!