1981 - The Year The Mike Made Contact

When Eric from over at The Movie Waffler asked me to take part in a little Blogathon he's got going on, I got a little psyched.  The topic, should I choose to accept it, is what he calls "The Year I Made Contact" - asking folks who love movies to talk about the movies from the year in which said movie lover was born. (Like, could I say movie a few more times?  Movie.  There, I did.)

If you wanna go straight to what other people said, click the baby!

When I got offered the chance to write about this topic, I took a moment to ask myself some questions. "Hey, The Mike...do you think the movies from the year you were born had an impact on you?  Like, maybe there's some kind of magical juju in the air that wafted off the movie screen and made you The Mike you are?"  And I was like "Nah, man, that's crazy."  But then I looked at the list of movies I've seen from 1981 (thanks to my good friends over at Flickchart, I can do that kind of stuff easily) and I was like "Whoa, The Mike...1981 and you is like...a magical conjunction!"

(Don't worry, I have Valley Girl-ish conversations with myself all the time. It's totally tubular and also normal for me.  Just run with it.)

Back on topic - 1981.  As far as I can count, there are 50 movies from 1981 that I've seen. And I can say with little hesitation that every single one of them makes me at least a little bit excited.  They're not all excellent films, and some struggle to get anywhere near good, but I swear with all my Mikeness that every movie I've seen from that year has something unique and catchy and attention-grabbing about it.

Jillian Kesner in the kung-fu/exploitation cheese-o-rama Firecracker.

When I try to break down 1981 - which is seriously no easy task for me when I'm this stoked about movies that aren't even good like Firecracker or The Nesting or The Survivor - I see a few distinct categories of movies that fit my cinema lovin' persona.  I'm a little afraid to start this next part - because I know I'm going to forget to mention something my gut thinks is great - but here's a run down of what sticks out (the most) to me from 1981.

Heads will roll - but not float - in Eyes of a Stranger.

The Slashers

As I discussed when I covered The Slasher Movie Book a few weeks ago, 1981 was right in the middle of the slasher movie's "golden age".  There are a few movies from the year that I will watch despite their silliness - stuff like, Graduation Day, The Burning, Hell Night, and Eyes of a Stranger (Oh, man, Eyes of a Stranger is something else!) - but there are also some big dogs of slasherdom too.  Halloween II and Friday the 13th Part 2 both took their brands down defining paths, with the former introducing the family ties between killer and victims and the latter introducing the fully grown Jason.  Both films are highly flawed, but pretty iconic at times, with a couple of the best moments in either series hidden within.  Alongside those films are three of my favorite stand-alone slasher films, My Bloody Valentine, The Prowler, and Just Before Dawn.  These are three movies that represent exactly what the slasher was at the peak of its popularity, embracing the cliches while finding unique ways to make viewers love their kind of carnage.

The Non-Horror Stuff

I know I'm all about the genre stuff and the wacky stuff here, but there are a lot of 1981 movies I need to mention to feel OK about myself.  Some are pretty obvious - most anyone talking about 1981 will surely mention Raiders of the Lost Ark, which has to be the year's most popular and enduring film - while others were big hits at the time that are slightly obscure to the masses these days.  Films like Body Heat, The Cannonball Run, Stripes, and The Road Warrior are still loved in circles of movie buffs, but have primarily been relegated to "Movies that people pillage and update to make fresh young movies" status by greedy Hollywoodians and ignorant kids.

I will always miss John Belushi.

For me, there are a few lesser known films from the year that still stick out too.  The fantastic John Belushi, who's still my favorite comedian ever and kind of a hero to me, had his last two movies - the sweet and heartfelt Continental Divide and the zany and psychotic Neighbors - released in 1981, before his untimely death in 1982.  Another comedic favorite, Mel Brooks, released History of the World - Part 1, which is not among my favorite of his films, but is still a cracking spoof at times.  Sylvester Stallone, Billy Dee Williams, and Rutger Hauer starred in the ridiculously serious serial killer thriller Nighthawks, which stands tall as one of the greatest facial hair movies of all-time.  George A. Romero took a break from zombies with the renaissance fairs and motorcycles epic Knightriders - buoyed by a young and intense Ed Harris - and made a ridiculous premise stick out as one of his better post Dawn of the Dead films.

Hey everybody! It's Ron Perlman!

1981 also featured one of the most unique films I've ever seen; a film that I find endlessly watchable despite little facts like next to nothing happening and no comprehensible dialogue. Jean-Jacques Annaud's Quest For Fire, about cavemen who have to gain and protect fire back in the days long before matches is a one-of-a-kind epic that I dig.  I don't have a clue what it's saying most of the time - but I think I like what it means.  And it's pretty once you get past all the hair.

The Horrors That Aren't All Slashy

While the slashers dominated the horror scene of the early '80s in many regards, there are several horror movies from 1981 that shine in other ways.  But, like the slashers, not all of them are firing on all cylinders.  Ghost Story is swimming in atmosphere and has a dynamite cast of Hollywood legends, but has some pacing issues.  Similar concerns took some spotlight away from Wolfen, in which Albert Finney faces New York City werewolves that have something to do with a Native American ritual - which means the movie's slow and also batstuff crazy.  Oliver Stone wrote and directed (Seriously! Oliver Stone! I'm not making this up!) The Hand, in which Michael Caine (Seriously!) deals with the loss of his hand which is now killing people, a movie that I love dearly but have a hard time defending. Maybe it's the gorgeous Andrea Marcovicci that draws me in and tricks me, or maybe it's the fact that the film is a psychological look at the effect of Thing from The Addams Family going on a rampage.   Either way, I can't stop loving The Hand.

On the more successful side of 1981, we find a couple more interesting horrors.  I'm not the biggest fan of Joe Dante's The Howling - I think it lacks too much of the comedic charm of his other films and is kind of poorly cast - but it's a great throwback to The Wolf Man with Dee Wallace at the top of her game and some great special effects.  Dead and Buried, on the other hand, is exactly my kind of straight-faced horror film, as the combination of writer Dan O'Bannon and director Gary Sherman brings forth an atmospheric and genuinely scary small town horror film. 

Just go watch The Pit and tell me it's not creepy/awkward. I dare ya.

If you're a regular reader of this site, you know that the Midnight Movie of the Week is pretty much my signature post.  I've been running it for 130 straight weeks now, and I wasn't surprised when I learned that no less than six (6!) of the movies I've picked for what I think is a prestigious honor came from 1981.  Among these are two surprisingly shocking horrors featuring mini-sized terrors, The Pit and Bloody Birthday.  The Pit has a little boy who's controlled by his teddy bear and some cave-dwelling trogs, and it's a film that never stops being its own brand of entertaining crazy.  Bloody Birthday is more straight forward, with three evil kids doing evil things for the sake of evil, but it is unsubtle in every way and goes out of its way to show extreme violence around (and sometimes toward) little children.

Though it might not be strictly a horror film, Roadgames features Jamie Lee Curtis in an early role and sports one of my favorite sensational movie posters of all-time.  For the most part, the film is Stacy Keach playing Rear Window from the cab of a semi that's crossing Australia, which makes it one of the most rewatchable films in my collection.  It's been relatively forgotten - it didn't even make the cut in the discussion of Jamie Lee's early roles in Scream - but Richard Franklin's thriller has long been a favorite of mine.  It's also been Midnight Movie of the Week.

The Top Five

When I really - and I mean really, those last thirteen paragraphs were just me warming up - break it down, there are five movies from 1981 that stand out as the gems of the year to me.  (Yes, I know Raiders of the Lost Ark should be here too, but I'm leaving it to the smarter people...and I'm more of a Last Crusade guy, to be honest.)  Here's a brief look at each of them.

If I'm being snooty and not acknowledging Halloween as a slasher - sometimes I like to pretend that it's "above" the moniker since it started the fire burning - Happy Birthday to Me easily takes the bithday cake as my favorite.  Another former MMOTW, the movie only came to my attention because one of those "The Day You Were Born" things my mom hung outside my bedroom had it listed as a popular movie of the time, and I found that terribly ironic.  It's perhaps the Lawrence of Arabia of slasher movies - I swear it's almost two hours long! - but it's got awesome kills, goofy characters, and all the '80s cheese you need. And the kids make references to classic movies, which makes me long for the days when we weren't being force fed so much new crap and we still remembered things like The Hunchback of Notre Dame or High Noon.  But that's another topic for another day...

Part of the reason I'm not so wild about The Howling might be the fact that I am wild about An American Werewolf in London.  I know it would be the nice thing to do if I accepted both movies for what they are - and I do still dig The Howling, dammit! - but An American Werewolf in London just sticks out to me as such a perfect film.  As I once wrote in a piece for the Flickchart Blog, it is truly a "one of a kind" movie with the perfect mix of comedy, action, and horror.  It too pays tribute to The Wolf Man in a great way, and it never keeps me from smiling.

The Evil Dead needs no introduction to most horror fans.  I feel terribly blessed that I, despite my age, found the original film first - unlike most of my classmates in school, who met Ash in Army of Darkness.  The Evil Dead still intrigues me on many levels, as it's one of the most immersive movie experiences I've ever been a part of.  Some remember the series for Bruce Campbell and the gags of the later films - and sometimes I do too - but the original Evil Dead deserves mad love for being a non-stop attack on the viewer.  

Another movie that I love for its bleakness - man, when you get down to it, 1981 was all about how we're doomed - is Brian De Palma's Blow Out.  John Travolta and Nancy Allen star in what looks like an average thriller, but the twists and turns of the plot lead up to a fantastic conclusion that is perhaps the most heart-breaking thing ever filmed.  It's full of De Palma's trademark sleaze and features a psychotic John Lithgow and a slimy Dennis Franz, which makes it the kind of film (Another past MMOTW!) that just traps my eyeballs and never lets them go.

Lastly, we reach the man I admire more than almost anyone - Snake Plissken.  You may call him a fictional character who was played by Kurt Russell, but I call him an ideal.  I call him an institution. I call him the spirit of everyone who's ever been fed up with having to go along with society's expectations and I call him the champion of every man who ever just wanted to sit down and be done with the crap.  I honestly call him a hero.

Escape From New York isn't the best movie of the year by any technical regard, and some may even say it's a little light in the plot department.  Some even knock the one-note antihero, but they miss the things that makes me love Snake Plissken and this film so dearly.  You might see Escape From New York as a silly film that guessed wrong about 1997, but I see it as a statement about society that features a character who has the resolve to stand up against anything.  As I said when I named it Midnight Movie of the Week on a decidedly low day, Escape From New York gives me a satisfaction about my course in life.

Snake Plissken is certainly my champion of 1981, but as I look back at the year I find so many movies to love that represent just what it is I love about movies.  They're not the happy-go-lucky movies that most people prefer - but those aren't the movies that I'm here for.  In an almost fatalistic way, the films of 1981 and I share many of the same opinions on what cinema can be, and this chance to look back at that year's films has been a thrill for me.

Don't forget to click the baby!

As I mentioned at the beginning of this thing - which I really thought would be shorter! - you can check out the rest of the The Year I Made Contact Blogathon over at The Movie Waffler.  So head on over and see what's up. If you have your own site, check in over there and join the party.  Or, you can just tell me what you think of your birth year (or what you think of 1981) in the comments below.  The possibilities, like my love-filled ramblings about 1981, are nearly endless.

The Mike's Top 50 Horror Movies Countdown: #40 - Phantom of the Paradise

Previously on the Countdown: Number 50 - Happy Birthday to Me  Number 49 - Prince of Darkness  Number 48 - House on Haunted Hill  Number 47 - The Monster Squad  Number 46 - Hellraiser  Number 45 - The Fog  Number 44 - Creature From the Black Lagoon  Number 43 - Zombie  Number 42 - Tales from the Crypt  Number 41 - Bubba Ho-Tep

Phantom of the Paradise

(1974, Dir. by Brian De Palma.)

 Why It's Here:

Because no list is complete without a little music, right?  Brian De Palma's rockin' take on two classic horror tales - The Phantom of the Opera and Faust, together again for the first time - isn't going to scare many viewers, but it's still got a devilish and macabre kick.  Other De Palma horrors have more horrifying tones - Sisters and Carrie probably should have been on this list, but if I had to pick one DePalma horror that I enjoy the most I'd lean slightly to the Phantom.

The Moment That Changes Everything:

From the moment the Caligari inspired backdrop to the Paradise's stage is shown and "Somebody Super Like You" begins to play, the Phantom's quest for love and revenge hits top speed and never looks back.  Also featuring the talents of Gerrit Graham's ridiculous Beef character, this sequence sets up the film's final thrills perfectly.

It Makes a Great Double Feature With:

I already mentioned the horror films that DePalma made around this, Sisters and Carrie, and it makes far too much sense to me to list them here.  All three films are radically different in story, but they feature early DePalma at his crazy best.  They also all have been Midnight Movie of the Week selections (Here's Sisters, Here's Carrie, and Here's Phantom) - and I'm still kind of debating with myself that they deserve this spot on this list too.

What It Means To Me:

DePalma's work has long been one of my strongest connections to the darkest side of cinema, with his always sinister and often perverse films always providing some dark thrills.  I guess I'm giving Phantom the slight edge over his other films just because it's a bit more rewatchable and because I'm a sucker for "re-imaginings" of famous horror tales.  Phantom of the Paradise always gets my toe tapping and a provides a few big laughs, all while bringing the battle between humanity and Satan to our attention in a unique way.  

Midnight Movie of the Week #92 - Carrie

As far as I can tell, I think I managed to keep all the bush out of this shot. If not, sorry to the children!

The best thing that can happen to someone who wants to write about a movie is that something in that movie sticks out to them and becomes a topic worth rambling about.  99% of the things I've ever written that I thought were good happened because I was struck by some random piece of a movie that thrilled me and realized I could easily spew some thoughts about it onto a keyboard.  It's kind of like when the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, except that no one really wants pizza sauce and melted cheese in their ocular cavity.  (Seriously, Dean Martin....what the heck were you thinking?)

 When I first decided that I wanted to cover Carrie here at FMWL, I was a little concerned. After all, everyone and their mother has seen Carrie.  It's been around for a while, it's kinda a horror classic by one of the best directors ever, and it's the first film to ever be based on a Stephen King book or story or idea or used kleenex. But when I started watching Carrie again, for like the umpteenth time, I immediately began noticing all the reasons that it's so worth talking about again.

Tried to hide the dirty pillows here, too. You're welcome.

There's the horrifying opening segment, which features one of the most terrifying images of all-time: a frail and naked Sissy Spacek howling frantically because she never heard that her maturity is pretty much the opposite of this sentence. (Y'know, it starts with a PERIOD.)  No offense to Ms. Spacek - but she pretty much found a way to turn herself into the ugliest image that's humanly possible while writhing in fear while her evil classmates throw feminine products that I don't understand at her.  I swear that - if you look close enough - there's a moment in the middle of the scene where Spacek, for just a split second, looks JUST LIKE Zelda from Pet Sematary. Has a horror movie ever done more to make us feel sorry for a potential victim in an opening scene?  If so, I don't believe I've ever seen it.

Let's skip back to those evil classmates, who are probably one of the most well-discussed parts of the film - and there are good reasons why.  Led by the diabolical Chris Hargensen (played by Nancy Allen, who would become De Palma's number one leading lady over the years),  they pretty much represent what can be worst about teenagers.  And while we've probably all seen bullies in our days, I'm pretty sure Chris and her cronies - including P.J. Soles and Vinny "John Travlota" Barbino - are among the worst.  This leads to one of the film's most fulfilling scenes, the playful "detention" montage in which Chris and the girls who have tortured Carrie get tortured by their no-nonsense gym teacher played by Betty Buckley.  Set to a whimsical piece by composer Pino Dinaggio, this little sequence shows us how easy it is to push back against a bully...but it also leads to a bit of backlash from the devilish Chris and her friends.

Speaking of, there can't be more than 10-20 things in the world cooler than the shot where Allen, Travolta, and friends head up to the meat packing plant, with its strange gigantic happy pigs-in-fields-with-woman mural that leads to its pig pens, which look like - well, pig pens.   It's just such an amazing little scene (to a biased former child pig farmer), particularly when the Psycho-esque stingers in the musical score accentuate a sledgehammer swingin' Barbarino and Allen cheers him on.  You could take that moment and put it into some backwoods Texas Chainsaw Massacre-y film, and it would not feel out of place at all.  It's the primal side of Chris Hargensen, and it is awesome.

And then there's the prom sequence, which goes a long way toward proving once again how great Brian De Palma can be without using a single word.  The sequence that starts with Carrie White feeling like her dreams have come true and devolves after Chris Hargensen pulls the strings features sweeping music by Dinaggio and great camerawork by cinematographer Mario Tosi; playing out the drama in real-time as we watch the paths of the innocent girl and the devious bully pass for the last time.  The sequence is punctuated by another character, Sue Snell (Amy Irving), who has always been the film's most ambiguous cog to me. 

The motivation of the characters - aside from Chris, who is just simply demonic - throughout Carrie might be one of the film's biggest weaknesses.  One character goes from loving supporter to mocking onlooker in one of the film's key moments, and several other characters - including plenty of adults who are supposed to be looking out for these young people's best interests - seem distant and unreliable.  But then there's Sue, who makes the move to have her football star boyfriend Tommy Ross take Carrie to the prom I was already talking about.  It took me a long time to figure out just what is going on with Sue's character and whether or not she's part of Carrie's problem or Carrie's solution, but the more I watch the film the more I realize that she's a fantastic twist thrown into the otherwise straight-laced film.

But let's get back to that prom, because I feel its also worth talking about how shocking the final act is.  Throughout most of the film, we only see bits an pieces of Carrie's telekinetic power, and there's little to really suggest that she's capable of the kind of things we see play out.  The developments that De Palma shows us - doing the best to utilize both sides of the screen are frantic and fast paced and surprising.  It's easy to get lost in the coming of age drama and the revenge from the evil Chris parts of the film - not to mention the religious stuff with Carrie's mother, played cruelly by Piper Laurie - that we occasionally lose track of what it really is about Carrie that will turn this movie into a literal blood bath.

There's too much to talk about when it comes to Carrie.  The conjunction between King's dramatic approach to horror and De Palma's romantic approach to sleaze is a near perfect one.  This might not be the perfect King film or the perfect De Palma film, but it works because it brings most of the two titans' top traits together.  When mixed with the great performances - Spacek and Laurie got the pub and the Oscar noms, but literally everyone in the film is spot on - Carrie lives on as one of the great conversation pieces in horror.  There's so much to talk about in this film, and I'm glad I've finally taken the time to talk about some of it.

(Oh, and there's also that final scene. Still gets me every time.  Even when I know it's coming.  At least I don't scream like my sister did when we first saw it.)

Midnight Movie of the Week #69 - Blow Out

It's only fitting that Midnight Movie of the Week #69 (insert adolescent chuckles here) is directed by Brian De Palma.  He's one of my favorite filmmakers ever, but he's also the dude who showed me how to make Alfred Hitchcock stories into perverted slices of American sleaze that are shockingly palatable.  While I've loved his work ever since I first played my father's ridiculously un-hidden copy of Body Double as a young teen, I've spent the last ten years or so calling Blow Out my favorite of his films. 

In fact, Blow Out is usually something I list among my 20-30 favorite films in general. But it's not like most of my favorite films.  Most of the time I'm like "OMG, I loooooooooooooooovvvvvvvveeeeeee REAR WINDOW!" or "Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww yeah BLUES BROTHERS, homies!" when I talk about some of my favorite films.  But when I talk about Blow Out, I'm all "Oh man, Blow Out. Yeah."  It's not that I love Blow Out that much less than other films, its just that it's hard to get too excited when the film is so heart breaking and powerful.  It's kind of weird to admit it, but Blow Out is one of the few films out there that really gets to me on an emotional level.  And it does so in De Palma's own twisted way.

John Travolta - fresh of his sweathogging and dancing phase - stars as b-movie sound technician Jack Terry who, while recording ambient sounds on a Philadelphia park bridge, witnesses and records an accident that kills a Presidential candidate.  After rescuing a prostitute (Robocop's Nancy Allen) from the wreckage, Terry quickly realizes he's found himself in the middle of something big.  While analyzing his recording of the accident, he becomes convinced that he hears a gunshot before the car's tire blow out.

What follows is one part Jack's descent into madness, one part his courtship of Allen's pro girl, and one part psychotic John Lithgow.  The last part is among the most entertaining bits of the film, as Lithgow offers up a killer who's unnerving due to the disconnect between his efficient demeanor and the violent acts he commits.  The late film sequence in which he stalks a train station whore is incredibly effective thanks to his ability to shift his demeanor on a dime.  Lithgow steals most of the scenes he shows up in, as does Dennis Franz as the seedy photographer who is also involved in the political trickery.

A lot of people hate on Travolta these days, and I've never really understood why.  The guy has had some bad moments - yes, he was in Battlefield Earth - but I've always been a fan.  Maybe it's because I'm madly in love with Welcome Back, Kotter, maybe it's because I prefer thinking fondly of Pulp Fiction over thinking about Lucky Numbers at all.  But other roles aside, I have to say that his work in Blow Out is one of my favorite performances by anyone in any movie I love.  Travolta brings a youthful passion to the role that makes me smile as he bounces from trying to be charming to being totally paranoid and everywhere in between.  At 27 years old, Travolta took on one of his first dark and serious roles, and his range of emotion throughout the film still impresses me.  The performances isn't an Oscar grabbing one, but he's definitely involved in the role and his ability to express emotions that match what's going on around him really sell the film's drama.

But the real star of the film, as is generally the case with De Palma's films, is the use of the camera and De Palma's control over what we see on screen.  With help from the cinematography of Vilmos Zsigmond - who had previously shot the likes of The Deer Hunter, Deliverance, and Close Encounters of the Third Kind - De Palma manages to use his trademark split screen techniques without actually splitting the screen with a line down the middle.  The early film scene in which Travolta's Terry records audio of the children of the night is one of my favorite bits of filmmaking in all of his work, as he methodically brings us closer to Travolta's character, then steps back gradually to reveal what he's filming in the right side of the frame.  As the peaceful scene lets us experience the sounds of the night, it slowly brings forth the frogs or owls that are being recorded, which gets the viewer caught up in trying to solve simple mysteries just before it reveals the film's bigger intrigue.  Several similar scenes put an up close Travolta in half the frame while something he's considering appears in the other half, and Zsigmond and De Palma create a lot of interest in Jack's thought process without relying on dialogue.

As a horror fan, I also feel like I have to discuss the opening sequence, which shows us what a Halloween-esque slasher film would look like if filmed by De Palma.  This sequence, which is revealed to be part of the cheap horror film Jack is working on, is a magnificent tease to get us interested in the film, and scenes throughout the film in which Jack and the film's director deal with the production's sound problems provide some moments of comedy within the film, but they all lead up to the final scene which provides a fantastic bit of cynicism and a powerful resolution to Jack's journey through his predicament.

Blow Out has now been meticulously restored by the Criterion Collection, who have once again reminded me that they occasionally have strokes of brilliance between their bouts of pretentiousness.  (Rest assured, the screen caps I'm sharing here are from the old MGM DVD.)  It's awesome to see this tribute to De Palma's film, which holds up still as a powerful favorite.  Like Hitchcock's Vertigo before it, this is one of those rare films that holds me in a trance for a couple of hours before leaving me a bit exasperated.  But in both cases, these films that wear me out and leave me a bit brokenhearted remind me of just how powerful movies can be when the stories aren't simple crowd pleasers.  As it looks at prostitution, sleazy cinema production and political corruption, among other things, Blow Out never ceases to make me think about just how engaging a dark thriller can be when done right.

Midnight Movie of the Week #59 - Sisters

There are few horror movies that cover womanhood as thoroughly as Brian De Palma's Sisters does.  The 1973 chiller asks Margot Kidder to perform as Siamese twins that have been "cut asunder" and separated, while also asking Jennifer Salt to portray a reporter/amateur detective who witnesses a violent act and thus becomes both the third side in the film's triangle of intrigue and the logical actress opposite Kidder's animalistic characters.  Though the film's plot is pretty straight forward - except for an abstract dream sequence that shakes the characters' reality during the final act - the three roles that the two women play can get wrapped up in a confusing web.

The film spends most of its time with Kidder's Danielle & Dominique, and it allows the actress to portray both monster and victim.  Danielle generally seems delicate and seems naive, while the moments we share with Dominique are raw and vicious.  Kidder does a good job of handling the disconnect between two characters who seem to be on opposite ends of the human spectrum, and Salt covers the middle ground as the nosy Grace Collier quite well.

While the problems the twins face are probably foreign to most women, Ms. Collier is forced to deal with more common, everyday issues.  She has built a name in the newspaper industry by "calling it like she sees it", and thus has made enemies with several men, including the police force.  At the same time she has to put up with her overbearing mother, who reminds her that people her age are getting married and refers to her job, which Grace is quite passionate about, as a hobby.  As she fights through these issues with some pushy tactics, Grace becomes abrasive to even the viewer.  I often find myself disliking the character - despite knowing she's right - simply because of her mannerisms as she searches for the truth.

Opposite these women are a host of voyeuristic males.  The male gaze has always been a key proponent of De Palma's films, but it seems like the male characters in Sisters are all judging the movements of Kidder and Salt's characters.  The most obvious examples surround Danielle, with both her gentleman caller (played by Lisle Wilson) and her ex-husband (future Phantom of the Paradise William Finley!) often being framed while staring at her as if she's an object.  Some would argue that Dominique is empowered - in her own way - by this gaze, but Danielle seems to barely notice it.  Salt's Grace faces a different set of looks from the males, as both the police officers and the private investigator (Charles Durning) who she enlists in her cause hear her demands and look at her as if she's from a different planet.

There's a chasm between Danielle and Grace when it comes to why people are staring at them.  Danielle is desired by the men in her life, because she literally plays the role of bait using her looks and is totally willing to fall into the roles that her modeling and acting promote in her.  Grace, however, is determined to buck the trend and be seen as an equal to any reporter, which leads her to an uncertain approach from those around her.  The male characters - and maybe even the male viewers like myself - aren't comfortable around Grace because of her aggressive approach to those around her.  Danielle, on the other hand, uses her feminine side to her advantage to get what she wants when she can.

The fact of the matter is that neither actress fits their performance into what we'd expect from a woman in an average horror film, and the result is three unique characters that don't fit into standard gender roles.  There's not really a hero that we pull for or a villain we despise, just a group of women who are the focal point of an entirely fascinating script.  Like Hitchcock's Vertigo, it becomes evident as the film goes on that the viewer doesn't have a specific side to pull for - which gives the viewer the chance to just sit back and enjoy the ride.

Though the characters in Sisters are far from the shining ideal of what a woman in horror can be, I adore the fact that the two actresses are given so much power to do interesting things as the film unfolds.  Sisters might not seem to advance the portrayal of women in horror on the surface, but De Palma (and co-writer Louisa Rose) do a great job of keeping the viewer off balance with these three unconventional female characters.  There are a lot of other great things going on in Sisters too - I could recommend the film entirely based on the fantastic final shot, which reminds us that voyeurism can be a dead end - but the unique roles for these actresses make it a great film to check out during Women in Horror Recognition Month.

Midnight Movie of the Week #56 - Phantom of the Paradise

Man, when I started the Midnight Movie of the Week train rolling back in the day, I had Phantom of the Paradise on my shortlist of flicks to cover.  Somehow, it fell through the cracks until now.  Long before that, this film was one of the first two movies I ordered online when I was first learning of this newfangled Amazon.com website that had things for sale.  The other film was The Devil Rides Out - which was the first Midnight Movie of the Week.  Thus, these two movies are kind of like brothers in my mind.  At the very least, they're like an awesome Tango & Cash style power duo.

Personal mental connections aside, Brian De Palma's rock musical amalgamation of Faust and The Phantom of the Opera is certainly a one of a kind film.  Like many of De Palma's thrillers, there's plenty of "borrowing" going on throughout the film, and connections to Frankenstein, The Picture of Dorian Gray, and Edgar Allan Poe - to name a few - have been made by others.  Plus, one of my favorite moments in the film - the opening of The Paradise - features a wicked background that has to have been inspired by German Expressionist cinema of the 1920s. It always makes my jaw drop.

But like I said: there's no denying that Phantom of the Paradise is as unique as can be.  De Palma's vision of the classic tales he pilfers comes at the viewer from several different angles, and there's a fantastic balance of comedy, horror, and drama throughout the musical adventure.  A lot of his power comes from the unique characters, none of whom seem to fit into Hollywood conventions.  The cast, led by character actor William Finley and songwriter Paul Williams (with assists from future Suspiria star Jessica Harper and favorite side character Gerrit Graham), doesn't carry big names; allowing each actor a bit of comfort in their own skin as the dark fantasy plays out.

(It's interesting to note that Finley, who had just co-starred in De Palma's fantastic psychological thriller Sisters, almost didn't have a role in this film.  Peter Boyle was attached to the film and was going to play the rock icon Beef, while Graham (who eventually played Beef) was scheduled to play the diabolical Swan, and Williams (who eventually played Swan) was scheduled to play The Phantom.  Williams balked at the idea of playing the Phantom due to his 5'2" height and position in the record industry, and Boyle was busy - possibly with Young Frankenstein(?) -  so all the trades worked out.)

The comedic aspects of Phantom of the Paradise are something I often overlook, though it's hard to really look at the film and take what it offers seriously.  While the film is full of contracts signed in blood and hints toward the presence of Old Scratch, there's certainly an satirical tone throughout the film.  Some of the humor is blatant - like De Palma's version of the shower scene - but there are a lot of moments where the dark side of the film and the comedic side come together in an awkward manner.  The final minutes capture this well, as it's hard not to laugh while the final twists are playing out and the film picks up a slapstick pace, but the viewer will probably have the rug pulled out from under them by the dramatic final moments. 

And there is also the music, which covers a wide range of tones and topics and seems to fit perfectly into each scene.  My favorite number might be Somebody Super Like You, which captures the high point that is Swan's grand opening, and leads into the silly Life at Last which presents the overcompensating masculinity of the Beef character, who is a very feminine fellow off stage.  The Hell of It, which plays over the end credits, is also a highlight in how it wraps up the film, and should help you leave the viewing with a smile on your face.

Phantom of the Paradise won't be mistaken for De Palma's most artistic work or his most subversive work (I'd probably place the dynamite thriller Blow Out atop both lists), but it's a great example of his quirky ability to capture the viewer's attention and it certainly shines as one of his most upbeat works, despite its connections to famous tragedies.  Despite some shortcomings, it's lived long for me as one of the most infectious bits of cult cinema to come out of the 1970s, and I can't think of a movie I'd rather watch - yes, even that other '70s cult rock musical - at a One Mike Midnight Dance Party*.

Oh, and Rod Serling does the freakin' opening narration!  What more do you need from a film????

(* - I don't know what a One Mike Midnight Dance Party would look like, but I'm sure it'd be AWESOME.  Right?)