Burden of Dreams

 

(1982) Directed by Les Blank; Written by Michael Goodwin (Narration); Narrated by Candace Laughlin; Starring: Werner Herzog, Klaus Kinski, Claudia Cardinale, Jason Robards, Mick Jagger; Available on DVD 

Rating: ****½ 

 

“When I came back to Germany, and I had to hold all the investors together, they said to me, ‘Well, how can you continue? Do you have the strength or the will or the enthusiasm?’ And I said, ‘How can you ask this question? If I abandoned this project, I would be a man without dreams, and I don’t want to live like that. I live my life or I end my life with this project.’” – Werner Herzog (on continuing with the film after production came to a halt) 

There are times when the story behind the film eclipses the film itself. Les Blank’s remarkable documentary Burden of Dreams is such an example. Much more than a “making of” feature, Burden of Dreams chronicles the arduous journey that Werner Herzog’s Fitzcarraldo (1982) took, from pre-production to shooting. It’s a tale of obsession, hubris and persistence, as Herzog faces every imaginable conflict along the way: man against the elements, man against man, and man against himself

Fitzcarraldo was plagued with problems from the start, with the filmmaker setting up camp in the wrong place at the wrong time, amidst a tribal land dispute in Peru. Tensions reached a critical point, due to mistrust by the indigenous population of Aguaruna people, which fueled baseless rumors of atrocities committed by Herzog and crew. Fearing for their safety if they remained in the region, the team of filmmakers were forced to flee, and their camp was burned to the ground by the tribe. But the problems didn’t end there. Production eventually resumed in another Peruvian location, with Jason Robards* in the title role of Brian Sweeney Fitzgerald (aka: “Fitzcarraldo”), and Mick Jagger as his sidekick Wilbur. With 40 percent of shooting completed, Robards contracted amoebic dysentery, again, forcing everything to a screeching halt. Jagger, due to other professional obligations (i.e., The “Tattoo You” album and tour), left the project. Herzog and crew returned to the Amazon for another attempt to film his story, now with Klaus Kinski*/**/*** in the lead (his fourth collaboration with Herzog). 

* Fun Fact #1: At one point, Herzog considered Jack Nicholson for the main character, but considered other options after 20^th Century Fox made too many demands (including shooting in a studio and using a model for Fitzcarraldo’s ship). 

** Fun Fact #2: According to the film’s editor, Maureen Gosling, the ever-mercurial, self-centered Kinski, became jealous over the attention given to his co-star, José Lewgoy, and sequestered himself in his hut. 

*** Fun Fact #3: As a last resort, Herzog considered casting himself as Fitzcarraldo.

 

A new camp was constructed when production eventually resumed two years later in northeastern Peru. Members of the Machiguenga and Ashaninka (or Campa) tribes provided labor, while many served as extras. Filming in a remote jungle location, far from the vestiges of urban life, presented many logistical challenges. Supplies were flown in by small airplanes, and on-site medics provided first aid – a necessity when two indigenous extras were hit by arrows fired by members of a rival tribe. By far, however, the biggest hurdle was Herzog’s insistence on pulling a real steamship up a mountain (which Herzog asserted was the central metaphor of his film).* Two vintage turn-of-the-century ships stood in for the SS Molly Aida – one would endure the treacherous Amazonian rapids, while the other was slated to be dragged uphill. Convinced that the attempt to drag a 100-plus-ton ship up a mountain would end in tragedy, the Brazilian engineer left the project, and was subsequently replaced by a Peruvian engineer (Mini spoiler: Thankfully, the feat was accomplished without serious injury or loss of life). 

* Fun Fact #4: Herzog wanted audiences to be able to “trust their eyes again,” rather than be fooled by effects trickery.

Unlike the film’s colorful subject, Herzog (who often placed himself front-and-center in his own documentaries), Les Blank chose a more unobtrusive style, preferring to stay out of the frame. Suiting his more introverted nature, Blank tried to keep interference to a minimum, allowing the behind-the-scenes drama to unfold, rather than forcing conflict. According to Herzog, Blank seemed to intuitively recognize when a significant, filmable moment would emerge.

Considering the mental and physical toll on Fitzcarraldo’s cast and crew, one might wonder if any movie is worth the strife. Seven people died during the production, although none of those deaths (including a plane crash and a drowning) were directly related to filming. As three months turned into six months, spirits soured among the indigenous laborers and cast members,* many of whom were away from their families, and unfamiliar with living in such close quarters over a protracted amount of time. All the while, living conditions, with regard to food and sanitation continued to erode. In a 2005 interview Herzog lamented being vilified by some human rights groups and critics for exploiting the indigenous people.** He attested that he paid three times the going rate for indigenous workers in Peru (which was undoubtedly a pittance, compared to workers performing the same jobs in the U.S. and Europe). In the end, it’s open to debate whether he provided gainful employment or just wanted to benefit from cheap labor. 

* Fun Fact #5: As most of the indigenous extras/workers were male, the filmmakers hired female prostitutes to (ahem) elevate the morale in the camp. 

** Fun Fact #6: To Herzog’s credit, he was instrumental in helping the Machiguengas secure a land title.

Werner Herzog’s excellent 1999 documentary My Best Fiend (which incorporated some footage from Burden of Dreams), covered his often tumultuous professional relationship with actor Klaus Kinski, and clearly paints the director as a victim. Blank took a more balanced approach, with Herzog’s endeavors as the central focus, but there are many other factors at play. Burden of Dreams at once paints a nuanced portrait of a filmmaker bordering on megalomania and a man going to great lengths to realize his vision (much like the character, Fitzcarraldo). Whether you consider Herzog schlepping a ship up a mountain an engineering marvel or folly, it crystallizes the Sisyphean struggle that most creative people face to some extent. Similarly, negotiating the Amazonian rapids (the “Pongo de los Muertos”), symbolizes an uncompromising artist navigating his way through a world of meddling studio executives, Hollywood sycophants and diminished expectations. Herzog asserts that we need to embrace our dreams to make ourselves whole. Without them, we are merely shadows of ourselves.

 

Sources for this article: Criterion DVD commentary by Les Blank, Maureen Gosling and Werner Herzog; “Dreams and Burdens,” 2005 interview with Werner Herzog 

 

Kenny & Co.

(1976) Written and directed by Don Coscarelli; Starring: Dan McCann, A. Michael Baldwin, Jeff Roth, Ralph Richmond and Reggie Bannister; Available on DVD (Out of print) 

Rating: **** 

Note: This is an expanded version of a capsule review that originally appeared in June 2011.

“Sure, there would be a neighborhood bully and a love interest for Kenny, but my true goal was to convey what everyday life was like for a normal boy of twelve as he was growing up. For kids, adults and their actions are simply incomprehensible. I wanted to show that.” – Don Coscarelli (from True Indie, by Don Coscarelli)

Being a kid has never been easy, with every generation staking claim to having the most arduous (and, alternatively, the greatest) experience growing up. As a Gen-Xer, my formative years were distributed between the ‘70s and ‘80s so I declare bragging rights for both decades. Although the kids in Kenny & Co., circa 1976, were a few years older than me, the scenes and dialogue consistently struck a chord with my own recollections of that peculiar and sporadically tumultuous time. If you ever wondered what being a kid in‘70s-era Southern California was like, this is probably as close as you’re going to get, short of a documentary from the period or a time machine.

Writer/director Don Coscarelli was only 21 when he directed his second movie (preceded by Jim, the World’s Greatest). Filmed in Long Beach, California, around the same neighborhood where he grew up, Kenny & Co. was his (sort of) tribute to The 400 Blows (although I’d wager Truffaut never watched Kenny & Co.). Coscarelli and associate producer Paul Pepperman incorporated several incidents from their own childhood into the story. Coscarelli’s parents’ house became the base of operations for the film, as well as the location for several scenes. It was a true family affair, with his father Dac producing, his mother Kate (who also starred as Kenny’s mother and cooked for the film crew) handling makeup and production design by, and costumes by his sister Anne. In low budget fashion, many of the crew members had multiple roles (in addition to directing, Coscarelli handled the cinematography and editing).

Kenny (played by Dan McCann, in his first and only role) is an average pre-teen who hangs around with his best friend Doug (Michael Baldwin), and by default, the klutzy, fifth-wheeling kid from across the street, Sherman (Jeff Roth).* His elementary school teacher, Mr. Donovan (played by Coscarelli regular, Reggie Bannister),** is the kind of teacher everyone wishes they had – easygoing, and not too old or jaded to remember what it was like to be that age. Naturally, it wouldn’t be a proper film about childhood if there wasn’t some adversity, which comes in the form of hulking bully Johnny Hoffman (Willy Masterson), who’s roughly the size and shape of a male silverback gorilla. 

* Fun Fact #1: When Jeff Roth tripped over the camera during his audition, Coscarelli knew that they had found the perfect Sherman. 

** Fun Fact #2: Kenny & Co. featured several performers who would appear in Coscarelli’s better-known follow-up, Phantasm. In addition to Baldwin and Bannister, the cast included Kenneth V. Jones (the first victim of the flying silver ball) as Kenny’s irascible baseball coach Mr. Soupy, Terrie Kalbus (the spooky girl in Mike’s neighborhood), as Kenny’s first crush, and Ralph Richmond (the bartender in Phantasm) as Doug’s prankster father, Big Doug.

While a movie that isn’t driven by plot might be considered a deficit in some circles, it works beautifully for Kenny and Co. Instead, the film is comprised of vignettes, bracketed by Halloween night, and tied together by Kenny’s earnest narration. The result is consistent with the murky waters of our memories, which tend to be episodic in nature, rather than a coherent linear narrative. The performances by the kids (many of whom were not professional actors) are refreshingly natural. McCann (whom Pepperman spotted at a school carnival) is perfect as the easygoing everykid, Kenny, with his sweet but not saccharine demeanor. Roth never fails to amuse as Sherman, with his puppy-dog eyes and naïve charm (he desperately wants to be one of the guys, who consider him more of a mascot than a peer). One of the few professional actors was Michael Baldwin,* standing out from the pack as Kenny’s fearless pal, Doug. 

* Fun Fact #3: Baldwin’s father, Gerard, was an animator/director who worked on several shows, including The Bullwinkle Show and The Jetsons.

Despite being a little rough around the edges (or perhaps because of it), Kenny & Co. captures some of the greater truths about being a kid. Sure, there’s some artistic license along the way (most of us probably aren’t lucky enough to witness our childhood bully’s comeuppance), but what Kenny & Co. especially gets right are the little moments – stupid pranks, goofing around, and generally doing things that would give any parent heart palpitations. In one scene, the kids peruse the centerfold in a girly magazine that Sherman pilfered from his dad’s bedroom, leading to a conversation about how babies are made. Sherman’s ridiculously misguided notions about human biology, contrast sharply with Doug’s matter-of-fact answer. In another scene, Kenny and Doug drop their dummy “Otis” in the street,* just to observe the baffled motorists’ reactions. To their dismay, a pair of grown-ups promptly abduct Otis and dump him in their trunk, a cruel reminder that adults aren’t always trustworthy. 

* Interesting Fact: In a case of life imitating art, my oldest son copied their prank, fashioning a dummy out of old clothes, and placing it in the middle of a busy parking lot. Thankfully, no one took his “Otis” away.

For a movie that’s predominately a comedy there are some unexpected somber moments, including one of the most heartbreakingly honest depictions of losing a beloved pet that I have seen in any movie. Along with his parents, Kenny accompanies his dog Bob on his final trip to the vet. As explained by his father, they’re doing the right thing to ease their dog’s suffering, but nothing about it seems right or fair. When they exit the exam room, the camera pans across the photos on the wall, and the other pets in the waiting room (presumably for routine check-ups). It's a mixture of emotions – grieving over the loss, and envying the owners whose pets are still alive. For many kids, it’s their first encounter with death, and a harsh rite of passage. In another scene Kenny asks his father about what happens when you die. Instead of providing some trite, sugarcoated answer, his father responds that he doesn’t know – far from the comforting words his son probably expected. The only false note comes later, when Kenny and Sherman witness a (presumably) fatal auto accident. Compared to the scene with the dog, it seems extraneous, and out of step with the rest of the film. Mercifully, Coscarelli balances these darker moments with silliness,* keeping things from becoming too glum. It also serves as a reminder that Kenny is nothing, if not resilient.    

* Fun Fact #4: Coscarelli knew he was onto something, after seeing audiences jump during a scene when a monster appears in a spooky garage. Coscarelli commented that the desire to evoke that same sort of reaction inspired him to make Phantasm.

In his DVD commentary, Coscarelli lamented the fact that 20^th Century Fox tried to market the film as a kids’ movie, when he suspected that its true audience would be adults, reminiscing about their childhoods. As it turned out, he was spot-on with his assessment (although I believe kids would find much to relate to in the film). Considering the distributor’s lackluster job promoting Kenny & Co., it’s unsurprising that it fared poorly at the American box office. Oddly enough, the movie became a big hit in Japan (where it was retitled Boys Boys/Kenny and Friends). Despite its brief moment of glory, Kenny & Co., like its star, McCann, faded into obscurity. As far as many Coscarelli fans are concerned, his career started with Phantasm, but Kenny & Co. deserves its own little renaissance. Unlike most of Coscarelli’s other films, which have wound up on just about every home video format, there was only one DVD release of Kenny & Co. (Jim, the World’s Greatest, has yet to appear on DVD or Blu-ray). The promising young director would go on to more polished and ambitious projects, but nothing has quite matched the degree of humor and heart found in this sophomore effort. The Anchor Bay DVD is long out of print, with no Blu-ray in sight, but if you can get your hands on a copy, it’s a trip down memory lane worth taking. 

 

Sources for this article: Anchor Bay DVD commentary; True Indie, by Don Coscarelli

 

The Corman-verse Blogathon Is Here – Day 1 Recap

 

Welcome to the Corman-verse, a three-day blogging event, honoring legendary filmmaker Roger Corman! At age 96, Mr. Corman is still going strong, with more than 500 credits to his name, and a list of protégés longer than your arm. Yours Truly and my exceptional co-host, Gill Jacob of Realweegiemidget Reviews, are thrilled to present Day 1 of the Corman-Verse Blogathon, for your reading pleasure. We hope you’ll get a chance to revisit some old favorites, and discover a few new ones.

If you’re planning to participate but not quite ready, never fear, we’ll post your link on Day Two or Three. Post a comment below, email me at barry_cinematic@yahoo.com, or reach me on Twitter (@barry_cinematic). You may also contact Gill by commenting on her post, through her blog’s Contact Me page, or on Twitter (@realweegiemidge). 

Without further preamble, here are Day 1’s submissions below, and don’t forget to return Friday and Saturday evening, for recaps of days two and three!

Don’t snooze on Scampy’s (from Spirochate Trail) review of In the Aftermath, Angels Never Sleep (aka: On a Planet with No Fish) (1988)

 

Andrew Wickliffe from The Stop Button looks at Roger Corman’s adaptation of Charles Beaumont’s The Intruder (1962)

 

Booksteve hits the slopes to bring us his take on Ski Troop Attack (1959)

Brian Schuck from Films Beyond the Time Barrier puts the pedal to the metal for his review of The Fast and the Furious (1954)

 

Terence Canote from A Shroud of Thoughts invites us to shop until we drop with The Little Shop of Horrors (1960)

 

And last but certainly not least, snap to it, and sink your teeth into Gill Jacob’s review of Alligator (1980). 

Starman

(1983) Directed by John Carpenter; Written by Bruce A. Evans and Raynold Gideon; Starring: Jeff Bridges, Karen Allen, Charles Martin Smith, Richard Jaeckel and Robert Phalen; Available on Blu-ray and DVD 

Rating: **** 

“You are a strange species, not like any other, and you would be surprised how many there are. Intelligent but savage. Shall I tell you what I find beautiful about you? You are at your very best when things are worst.” – Starman (Jeff Bridges)

Although the name “John Carpenter” has become synonymous with horror, labeling the filmmaker as exclusively a “horror” director would be reductive and inaccurate. Arguably, science fiction has played just as much, if not a greater role in Carpenter’s filmography, starting with his first movie, Dark Star (1974). What few filmgoers and critics are inclined to acknowledge, however, is that Carpenter has a softer, romantic side. His gentler sensibilities are on full display with Starman,* a sci-fi-tinged romantic road movie. In an era known for effects-laden spectaculars, Carpenter purposely went in the opposite direction, commenting, “The effects weren’t going to rule the movie.” There’s spectacle, to be sure (courtesy of the good folks at ILM), but effects are used sparingly, to complement rather than overshadow the story. 

* Fun Fact #1: Although he didn’t receive official screenwriting credit, Dean Riesner was responsible for the rewrite of Bruce Evans and Raynold Gideon’s script. As a token of his appreciation, Carpenter mentioned Riesner in the “Thanks” portion of the credits, resulting in a fine from the Writers Guild. 

In the opening scene, we see Voyager II drifting through interplanetary space, accompanied by the strains of “Satisfaction,” from the Rolling Stones. */** Only seven years out from Earth, the probe is detected by an alien intelligence. Cut to an unidentified craft, entering our planet’s atmosphere – an Air Force fighter*** intercepts the UFO, causing it to crash land in a remote, forested area. The spacecraft’s solitary occupant, a being made of energy, wanders into the living room of recent widow, Jenny Hayden (Karen Allen). It takes on human form, based on a lock of hair and a picture in a photo album.**** The alien’s choice proves to be a fortuitous one, as he bears an uncanny resemblance to Jenny’s dead husband, Scott. She points a gun at the intruder, but thankfully for the Starman, a moment of indecision stays her hand from blowing him away (which also would have made this a much shorter movie). Instead, she becomes his hostage of sorts, as they hit the road on a quest to reunite the alien visitor with his people. Complications ensue, as they’re relentlessly pursued by the feds, who want to study him. 

* Fun Fact #2: According to the NASA/Jet Propulsion Laboratory website, at the time of this movie, Voyager I and II were just past the orbit of Saturn. Both spacecraft were equipped with a golden record, which included greetings in multiple languages, and various sounds and images from Earth. 

** Fun Fact #3: While the film would have us believe that “Satisfaction” was included on Voyager’s record, the actual disc features “Johnny B. Goode” by Chuck Berry. 

*** Fun Fact #4: I’ve always found this part amusing – instead of using generic stock footage of an Air Force jet, the filmmakers employed footage of the prototype F-20 Tigershark. I can only surmise this was a not-so-subtle attempt by Northrop Corporation to pimp its fighter to the U.S. Air Force (and prospective overseas governments). Despite being a reportedly capable aircraft, no one purchased it, and the F-20 was relegated to a footnote in aviation history.

**** Fun Fact #5: Three legendary effects wizards handled Starman’s tricky transformation scene from baby to adult: Rick Baker (baby Starman), Stan Winston (intermediate, stretching form), and Dick Smith (final transformation).

Starman works so well, largely on account of Jeff Bridges’ childlike (but not childish) performance in the title role. As the audience, we watch through his eyes as he experiences everything for the first time. Even something as mundane as dessert takes on wondrous and perplexing properties. Bridges described his character as “…a person impersonating a human being,” which perfectly explains the Starman’s eccentric behavior. He’s the de facto poster child for anyone who considers themselves to be socially awkward or a little outside the norm. His combination of jerky movements and misunderstanding of the cues and complexities of human interactions, lead to some terrific comic moments (as when he learns the difference between gesturing with a thumb, versus a middle finger). During his travails on the road, he also learns about humanity’s propensity for love and violence, in less than equal measures.

So much has been said about Bridges’ endearingly idiosyncratic (and Oscar-nominated) performance that it’s easy to overlook Karen Allen’s nuanced portrayal of a woman absorbed with grief. While her role isn’t nearly as flashy as Bridges’, she’s much more than a foil for his fish-out-of-water antics. Throughout the film, Jenny undergoes a progression, from fear and surprise, to compassion. When she ultimately allows herself to let go of her husband, she can begin to accept the being that has assumed his appearance. The only false note in her character, as written, is the abrupt shift in their relationship from emotional to physical during the span of a few days. I concede that Jenny’s judgment is likely clouded by unresolved grief for her deceased husband, coupled with a terminal case of Stockholm Syndrome. Nevertheless, I can’t help but imagine how terribly uncomfortable it would be, bumping uglies in a drafty (and probably leaky) boxcar, filled with hay, but who am I to trample on two individuals ensconced in the throes of lust?

The third major player in this little drama is the film’s moral compass, Mark Shermin, played by Charles Martin Smith with cigar-chomping bravado. Just because he’s hired as consultant by the feds, he’s not about to play by their rules. Unlike many of his cohorts, he seems to be the only one capable of independent thought or compassion. He’s promptly rebuked when he bristles at the plan to capture Starman for experimentation (“We invited him here!”).* In one emasculating act, haughty government official George Fox (Richard Jaeckel) yanks the cigar from his mouth. It only makes Fox’s eventual comeuppance sweeter, in a later scene, when Shermin defiantly blows smoke in his face. 

* Fun Fact #6: Carpenter, who was a pilot in his own right, enjoys a blink-and-you-miss-it cameo in the cockpit of one of the helicopters pursuing Jenny and Starman.  

Starman reminds us that John Carpenter’s filmography isn’t always gloom and doom. Instead, we’re treated to a refreshingly hopeful story that still manages to carry his signature post-Vietnam cynicism about shadowy government entities and general disdain for authority figures. Change is possible, but it has to come from individuals. Starman also proves his versatility as a filmmaker, who can alternately horrify us and pull at our heartstrings.

 

Sources for this article: Commentary by John Carpenter and Jeff Bridges; “What are the Contents of the Golden Record?” JPL/NASA website 

Announcing the Corman-verse Blogathon

When you think of the term “living legend,” Roger Corman should be on everyone’s short list. Hollywood outsider, who re-shaped Hollywood into his image, famous for making movies fast and cheap, creating significant work and schlock in equal portions (But we’re not judging. Someone else’s trash could be your treasure). He’s mentored and influenced some of the biggest names in the business, including James Cameron, Jonathan Demme, Gale Anne Hurd, Joe Dante, Jack Nicholson, Beverly Garland, and many, many more… Gill Jacob, my superb blogathon co-host from Realweegiemidget Reviews, is joining me to celebrate the man, his movies, and his countless mentees. Now, we’re inviting you to join us.

What’s the Corman-verse? IMDB lists more than 500 producing credits (and counting) alone!  Not one to simply rest on his laurels, he’s still going strong at the age of 95 (96 on April 5^th!). Chances are, whether you know it or not, you’ve probably seen something that involved Mr. Corman. Don’t know where to start? Check out his IMDB and Wikipedia pages.

What does that mean for you, dear blogger (or podcaster)? Thanks to Mr. Corman’s numerous credits, you have virtually endless possibilities (Surprise us!). Anything he’s produced, directed, written are good candidates for the blogathon, but we’re also opening this up to include any actors or filmmakers who have been strongly influenced by Corman – if you can link them to Corman, it’s fair game!

Here are just a few topic suggestions: 

·       Corman’s “Poe Cycle” of movies (The House of Usher, The Pit and the Pendulum, The Raven, etc…)

·       Social consciousness in Corman movies

·       Dick Miller’s many appearances in Corman films

·       Joe Dante’s early work

·       Corman’s numerous disciples

·       The ill-fated, unreleased movie, The Fantastic Four (1994)

And just because it’s called a “blogathon,” don’t let that deter you. We will cheerfully accept submissions from your podcast, YouTube channel, Facebook/Instagram post, sea shanties, beat poetry, whatever. Still puzzled about a topic? Feel free to reach out and bounce your idea off us. No reasonable offer will be refused.

What: The Corman-verse Blogathon

Who: Hosted by Yours Truly (Barry P.) and Gill Jacob

Where: Cinematic Catharsis and Realweegiemidget Reviews

When: May 26-28, 2022

How: Please read the rules below, and send me your post request(s) (reviews, podcasts, etc…) via email (barry_cinematic@yahoo.com), Twitter (@barry_cinematic), or by commenting below. You may also contact Gill by commenting on her post, or through her blog’s Contact Me page (Be sure to include your preferred name, along with your blog’s title).

And now, the rules…

 

1. If Roger Corman produced, directed, wrote, or appeared the film, you’re welcome to review it. Book reviews are also acceptable. You may also submit reviews of movies from filmmakers that were mentored by Corman.
2. Due to the vast number of potential subjects for this blogathon, ABSOLUTELY NO DUPLICATE TITLES WILL BE ACCEPTED (unless it’s part of a career profile or series of films).
3. We won’t accept posts that are uncomplimentary or disrespectful to him.
4. Review/post choices may be requested as a comment on this page or you may contact me through the methods listed above.
5. Add your Twitter username so we can promote your post.
6. A full list of blogs and review choices will be posted on a separate page and updated regularly.
7. Only original, never-before-published posts will be accepted.
8. Limit TWO blog posts per participant, please.
9. Send a link of your post(s) to me or Gill on one of the days of the blogathon. Note: We will be publishing all links on both blogs. 
10. Please also note: Gill and I have already claimed the following titles below:

Barry at Cinematic Catharsis – Battle Beyond the Stars (1980)

 

Gill at Realweegiemidget Reviews – Alligator (1980)

One more thing...

If you plan to participate, or just want to show your support, please grab one of the following banners to display on your blog:

                                                                    

We can’t wait to see your submissions. Put on your thinking caps, be creative, and above all, have fun! 

 

Matinee

 

(1993) Directed by Joe Dante; Written by Charles S. Haas; Story by Jerico Stone and Charles S. Haas; Starring: John Goodman, Cathy Moriarty, Simon Fenton, Omri Katz, Lisa Jakub, Kellie Martin, Dick Miller and Robert Picardo; Available on Blu-ray and DVD 

Rating: ****½

"Atomo Vision, Rumble Rama… It takes a lot more to scare people these days. Too much competition… Now they’ve got bombs that’ll kill half a million people, nobody’s had a good night’s sleep in years, so you gotta have a gimmick, you know? Something a little extra.” – Lawrence Woolsey (John Goodman) 

A huge thanks (or should I say, “Scream Out”?) to Gill from Realweegiemidget Reviews for inviting me to join the Wilhelm Scream Blogathon, looking at one of the most ubiquitous sounds from Hollywood movies. Today’s offering, Matinee, qualifies for the blogathon and this month’s theme (Body Horror), thanks to the marvelous film-within-a-film, Mant (more on this in a moment).

Matinee is Joe Dante’s love letter to the genre movies he grew up with, and the unique theater experience from his adolescence. Dante originally envisioned Matinee as a fantasy (with a vampire projectionist and monster theater manager), but eventually eschewed these elements when he couldn’t find a studio that was interested in the concept. The final product, however, reflects his affection for B-movie cinema, told amidst the backdrop of real-life events, circa 1962 (i.e., the Cuban Missile Crisis). The relatively low-budget production was originally slated to be funded overseas, with Universal to distribute, but when the money fell through, Universal took over the bill. Filming took place on location in Key West, Florida, where the story takes place.

Gene Loomis (Simon Fenton) is a typical all-American kid who lives on a military base with his mother Anne (Lucinda Jenney) and younger brother Dennis (Jesse Lee Soffer). As if adjusting to a new town and a new high school aren’t enough to cause anxiety, he’s faced with the uncertainty surrounding his father’s latest post, on one of the Navy vessels engaged in the U.S. blockade around Cuban waters. Gene’s only common thread, hopping from base to base, is his love of sci-fi and horror movies.* His new friend Stan (played by Omri Katz. best known for the beloved but short-lived series, Eerie Indiana) introduces him to another pastime – girls. While Stan pursues Sherry (Kellie Martin), Gene sets his sight on non-conformist proto-hippie Sandra (Lisa Jakub). But things are about to get more complicated when tensions between the U.S. and Soviet Union come to a head, just as B-movie showman extraordinaire Lawrence Woolsey rolls into town to promote his new movie, Mant. 

* Fun Fact #1: Gene’s room is decorated with various memorabilia, which came from Dante’s personal collection.

John Goodman (whom Dante envisioned for the role) impresses as cigar-chomping filmmaker Lawrence Woolsey, an amalgamation of a special breed of mid-century self-promoting genre filmmakers,* with an obvious nod to William Castle. Woolsey, who’s part con-man, all showman, knows a mark when he sees one. He delights in pushing an audience’s buttons, inside and outside the theater, promoting his latest gimmicks, “Atomo Vision” and “Rumble Rama.” If there isn’t controversy about his movies, he creates it. One of his ploys involves a staged protest outside the theater where Mant is set to premiere. His shills, Herb and Bob (Dick Miller and John Sayles) stir up outrage for his movie, under the auspices of phony organization “Citizens for Decent Entertainment.” Inside, he wires theater seats to zap the posteriors of select patrons (in a direct nod to Castle’s The Tingler), sets up an elaborate sound and light display, and hires juvenile delinquent Harvey Starkweather (James Villemaire) to terrorize the audience in a giant ant suit. He’s a big kid at heart, much to the chagrin of his sarcastic, long-suffering girlfriend Ruth Corday (Cathy Moriarty). She’s at the end of her rope; never a bride, always a bridesmaid to Woolsey’s cockamamie schemes. 

* Fun Fact#2: In addition to Castle, Dante cited Bert I. Gordon and Jack Arnold as influences for the character.

Among Matinee’s many highlights are excerpts from Mant (tagline: “Half man. Half ant. All terror.”), a spot-on parody of ’50s monster movies (particularly The Fly and Them), presented in glorious black and white. The cautionary tale, in which Bill (Mark McCracken), an ordinary man, transforms into a deadly human/ant hybrid, features genre staples William Schallert and Kevin McCarthy. Mant captures the style and tone (including over-the-top performances) of the films from that era, including an expert who dumbs down his explanations for Bill’s beleaguered wife Carole (played by Cathy Moriarty as Ruth Corday). The Wilhelm Scream is right at home with the monster-related mayhem when a giant ant tears through the city. Another clever parody* pokes fun at a special brand of Disney pablum from the 1960s (frequently starring Dean Jones or Fred MacMurray), in which a sentient shopping cart foils some would-be burglars. 

* Fun Fact #3: Matinee marks Naomi Watts’ first American performance, appearing in “The Shook Up Shopping Cart.”

Matinee provides sober reminder that real life is infinitely more frightening than anything that could be depicted on the silver screen. Life in 1962 was anything but carefree, when the threat of nuclear annihilation loomed, with the Cuban Missile Crisis. The bomb shelter maintained by the jittery theater manager (Robert Picardo) and routine “duck and cover” drills at school, at once reflect the public’s hypervigilance at the height of the Cold War, and the futility of surviving a nuclear blast. Dante’s film illustrates how humanity could be brought to the brink of extinction, yet somehow carried on with their daily lives. Woolsey offered an escape from the horrors of reality, providing thrills without consequences. His monologue at the end of the film encapsulates the public’s raison d'être for movie-going, and specifically why many of us enjoy horror so much.  

Matinee failed to connect with audiences and critics at the time, possibly as a result of Universal’s uncertainty about how to market the film. It’s unfortunate, because many missed out on a deceptively intelligent movie, with excellent ensemble work by a combination of new faces and old veterans (including a who’s who of Dante regulars and B-movie actors). Filled with an abundance of humor and heart, Matinee re-creates an experience from a bygone era when it actually looked fun to go to the movies. Dante manages to strike the perfect balance between comedy and drama, without seeming saccharine or heavy handed. His inclusion of autobiographical elements makes this his most personal film, and (to date) his best one.