Only now does it occur to me... MURDER BY DECREE (1979)

Only now does it occur to me... that if we were staging a March Madness-style tournament of Donald Sutherland mustaches, I do believe we've found our number one seed.

 

To quote Kurt Russell, who wore a similar Franz Joseph-sweeper in TOMBSTONE and THE HATEFUL EIGHT, "It's a mustache wearing a man."

(Also, if we're comparing late 1970s revisionist Jack the Ripper movies, I prefer TIME AFTER TIME––but Bob Clark's MURDER BY DECREE is still an enjoyable, horror-adjacent Sherlock Holmes flick with the inspired casting of Christoper Plummer as Holmes and James Mason as Watson.)

Only now does it occur to me... THE BLACK WINDMILL (1974)

Only now does it occur to me... that while THE BLACK WINDMILL is known for being a much-maligned Don Siegel flick featuring a bored Michael Caine as a British secret service agent who is (supposedly) acting with urgency to rescue his kidnapped son:

"I have a particular set of skills....skills I have acquired over a very long career... skills that make me a nightmare for people like you... but if you want to see them in action, you'll have to give me a better motive than kidnapping my dumb son"

 that while it is known for co-starring a malevolent John Vernon (in a rare non-school principal role):

that while it is known for an azz-kickin', trumpet-funk '70s soundtrack by Roy Budd, and that while it is known for wasting as much wine as Stanley Kubrick wasted fake blood on the elevator scene from THE SHINING:

REDRUM.... TOLREM

...it really ought to be known as the premiere venue for Donald Pleasence to fondle a fake mustache with impunity.


He just can't 


keep his hands  


off the damn thing 


it's practically pathological, and,

  
in reacting to it, I think Michael Caine affords it more acting headspace than the concept of his kidnapped son. 

 
The only time Donald's not touching it is when he has a broken arm and both hands are fully preoccupied.

Also, I guess it bears mentioning that there's a scene near the end set at a windmill. But the windmill's not black, and there's nothing particularly meaningful about it.

It'd be like if Don Siegel called DIRTY HARRY "THE OLD QUARRY" or INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS "THE HIGHWAY OVERPASS."

Only now does it occur to me... BONE TOMAHAWK (2015)

Only now does it occur to me... that Sid Haig and David Arquette ought to co-star in a full-fledged buddy comedy.

 

Their dynamic here––as a couple of bumbling, cutthroat highwaymen––only lasts for a few minutes, but it's thoroughly enjoyable, with Sid doing the irascible old man bit and Arquette dialing up the sort of Steven Weber-pastiche he nailed in Mick Garris' RIDING THE BULLET.

The film itself has some pacing issues and a streak of unlikeability––it's a generally nihilistic thriller, part acid western and part torture porn.

 

But then again, it's great to see that mustache on screen again.  Kurt presumably grew it for THE HATEFUL EIGHT, but sensibly realized that it was far too fantastic a 'stache to confine to only one film.

He also has a great "grumpy old men" relationship with brilliant character actor Richard Jenkins (THE CABIN IN THE WOODS, THE VISITOR, BURN AFTER READING).

There are some notable performances and shenanigans along the way––an extremely restrained Sean Young shows up, possibly wearing the same shoulder pads from BLADE RUNNER:

 

Matthew Fox chomps on cigars and occasionally contorts his face into the expression known to LOST fans as "Jackface":

and the tribal troglodyte villains seem culled from a MAD MAX movie, but that's okay, too.

BONE TOMAHAWK, ladies and gentlemen.

MUSTACHE PARTY screening tonight at Big Vision Empty Wallet

WHO: You.
WHAT: My film MUSTACHE PARTY screening at Big Vision Empty Wallet, presented by Industry Power Play-NYC Film Events.
WHEN: Starts at 7PM, but screenings won't begin until 8:45PM.
WHERE: Bar 13. 35 East 13th Street, Manhattan, NY.
HOW MUCH: $7 online; $10 at the door.

MUSTACHE PARTY screening tonight at the LES Film Festival

Tonight only, at the Lower East Side Film Festival, they're showing MUSTACHE PARTY, a short film I made last summer (starring Jillaine Gill, Rachel Klein, Joe Stipek, and myself) at 8:00 PM. The screening venue is 'Grand Opening,' and it's situated at 139 Norfolk Street in Manhattan's Lower East Side. The closest subway is the Essex/Delancey J, M, Z and F stop. Tickets are $10, and they, along with additional details, are available HERE.

Sean Gill's MUSTACHE PARTY at the LES Film Festival

MUSTACHE PARTY, a short film I made last summer (starring frequent collaborators Jillaine Gill, Rachel Klein, Joe Stipek, and myself) will be screening at the Lower East Side Film Festival on February 10th at 8:00 PM. The screening venue is 'Grand Opening,' and it's situated at 139 Norfolk Street in Manhattan's Lower East Side. Tickets are $10, and they, along with additional details, are available HERE.

The film can be described as follows: "Four mustachioed individuals await the impending apocalypse as a skeleton pummels a kettle drum and a hairy, Stygian Beast gradually awakens." There's stop-motion, schweet mustaches, and a shroud of existential dread. And a MIDI arrangement of Beethoven's 7th Symphony. Enjoy.

13 GHOSTS (1960, William Castle)

Stars: 3.5 of 5.
Running Time: 85 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Charles Herbert (THE FLY, HOUSEBOAT), Jo Morrow (OUR MAN IN HAVANA, THE THREE WORLDS OF GULLIVER), Martin Milner (SWEET SMELL OF SUCCESS, ADAM-12), Rosemary DeCamp (BLOOD ON THE SUN), Donald Woods (TRUE GRIT, THE STORY OF LOUIS PASTEUR), Margaret Hamilton (The Wicked Witch of the West in THE WIZARD OF OZ).
Tag-line: " 13 Times the Thrills! 13 Times the Chills! 13 Times the Fun!"
Best one-liner: "He doesn't mess up the kitchen often, but when he does, WOW!"

One of William Castle's most beloved films, 13 GHOSTS gave the world Illusion-O. Illusion-O so irrevocably altered the landscape of cinema, that no one has dared to work within its eerie confines since. Illusion-O, plainly speaking, is a form of film-making, that, when observed in concert with a ghost-viewing apparatus (like the one seen below), allows us to... well, view ghosts.

It's extraordinarily complex, but I'll attempt to explain. By peering through the red cellophane on the upper end of the mechanism, the ghosts will appear, quite vibrantly. Using the blue end of the device, however, allows us to remove ghosts.

This begs the question of 'who would choose to attend a film entitled 13 GHOSTS and then decide they'd prefer not to see any ghosts?', but this is a William Castle picture, so we oughtn't to split hairs. If you elect not to use the contraption at all, you'll see ghosts all right, but faintly. Don't worry, though, all of this is adequately explained at the picture's start by William Castle himself. "Do you believe in ghosts?," he asks.

"Personally, I do," he confesses. After explaining the minutiae of ghost-viewer usage, he urges us to explain the whole thing to any late-comers who missed his special introduction. This is perhaps the only time in film history that a director has urged an audience to interrupt his film after it's begun, and it's even for the convenience of the tardy! It's sort of like Hitchcock's "No one...BUT NO ONE will be admitted to the theatre after the start of each performance of PSYCHO."

Except if it was more like "No one...BUT NO ONE will be admitted to the theatre after the start of each performance of PSYCHO, unless there are audience members ready and willing to provide a rundown of everything that's happened thus far, including the quoting of pertinent dialogue."

Anyway, I don't wish to entirely spoil the majesty that is 13 GHOSTS with a synopsis (that's probably the job of the person sitting next to you when you roll in late), so let's explore ten of my favorite things about 13 GHOSTS.

#1. Why is the family's last name Zorba? Why do some of them have 'Greek' names like Medea Zorba and Plato Zorba? Is this some kind of hi-larious gag devised to make us think, subconsciously, about ZORBA THE GREEK? Why do the other family names like Cyrus and Buck and Ben and Hilda not adhere to this principle?

#2. The paintings of the Ghosts from the opening sequence.

I'm hard-pressed to imagine anyone not falling in love with them.

#3. The way that characters refer to 'speaking about ghosts' as "spook talk." Which is exactly what Vincent Price called it in Castle's HOUSE ON HAUNTED HILL!

#4. The killer pinwheel of fire ghost.

Why?, you might ask. "WHY NOT?!", Bill Castle might reply. Seriously, though, what the hell is going on there?

#5. Emilio, the murderous Italian chef who occasionally meat-cleavers the hell out of the kitchen.

And I know they had to make sure it was visible in Illusion-O, but look how overboard they went with the mustache:

It's not even hair- I think it's an enormous piece of paper cut into the shape of a mustache. God bless Bill Castle.

#6. This creepy housekeeper. She just looks kinda familiar.

Something about her and that old broom.

Like she should be riding it or something. Hmmm....

#7. The fact that the dad is not overly concerned that his 8-year old kid has a "big secret" with a random lawyer fellow. The dad merrily announces, "Buck's got a secret...I bet you could cut his arm off and he wouldn't tell!"

Buck considers the lawyer's proposition.


The skeezy lawyer in question.

#8. The way that the family pendulates between extreme horror and utter boredom. At one moment, they're dodging floating meat cleavers and screaming.

In the next, they might be calmly reading a book on the divan, wondering why the other family members are making such a fuss about these 'ghosts.' My guess?- it was probably shot so quickly (and out of order), that the actors didn't know at which points in the script they'd already had 'ghostly encounters' and ought to be acting accordingly.

#9. Not only does William Castle have a skeleton receptionist, the doorknob to his office is...a cobweb-encrusted skull!


#10. The ending. Like LET'S KILL UNCLE, Castle opts to end on a faux-cheery note of unbridled optimism which reaches such heights of absurdity that it can only be labelled as subversive.

Then William Castle appears once more, and challenges us- should we still refuse to believe in ghosts– to take our ghost-viewers home, get up in the middle of the night, and look through the red end of the device...if we dare!
Amen.

-Sean Gill

MUSTACHE PARTY (2010, Sean Gill)

I just put the finishing touches on a new film this weekend- a quickie I decided to direct and produce before SLUMLORD SHITHEEL SLAUGHTER begins in earnest. And while it will be likely be some time (submissions, festivals, etc.) before you can watch it online, here are are few screen captures to pique your interest. It's a five minute, mostly silent, short and stars Jillaine Gill, Rachel Klein, and Joe Stipek. It may or may not involve MIDI music and stop-motion animation, and if I had to describe it in one word, that word would be "apocalyptic." Enjoy.

Film Review: MIDNIGHT IN THE GARDEN OF GOOD AND EVIL (1997, Clint Eastwood)

Stars: 4 of 5.
Running Time: 155 minutes.
Tag-line: "Welcome to Savannah, Georgia. A City Of Hot Nights And Cold Blooded Murder."
Notable Cast or Crew: Kevin Spacey, John Cusack, Jude Law, Irma P. Hall (THE BAD LIEUTENANT: PORT OF CALL NEW ORLEANS), Jack Thompson (FLESH + BLOOD, BROKEN ARROW), Geoffrey Lewis (HIGH PLAINS DRIFTER, TANGO & CASH), Paul Hipp (FACE/OFF, LETHAL WEAPON 3), Alison Eastwood (TIGHTROPE, BRONCO BILLY), The Lady Chablis as herself. Music by Lennie Niehaus.
Best one-liner: "It's like my mom always said: 'Two tears in a bucket, motherfuck it.'" Said by the Lady Chablis.

Part travelogue, part courtroom drama, and part quasi-Lynchian exploration of American underbelly eccentricities, MIDNIGHT IN THE GARDEN OF GOOD AND EVIL is an extremely solid effort from director Clint Eastwood, and one of his rare films that has eluded majority critical acclaim. Now, regardless of what is true or false in relation to the source (the bestselling non-fiction novel by John Berendt), and what is true or false in the book vis-á-vis reality, the film is still a remarkably compelling narrative and one which (despite the presence of characters playing themselves) we should probably just view as historically-inspired fiction.

Clint's directing style has been called languid, reflective, and even 'Zen,' and all of those characteristics come into play here as Clint unpacks the narrative like it's an exquisite doily, carefully lifted and unfolded from a dusty box in the attic.

The cast is immaculate: John Cusack plays our hotshot Manhattan wordsmith and is our point of entry into this world of Savannahians who "are all heavily armed and drunk."

Kevin Spacey is certainly brilliant as a mustachioed Southern gent––he is completely immersed in the role (one of his best) and his complete connection comes through in the slightest of gestures––how he pets his cat, how he deliciously presents an 'evil' historical dagger, how he smokes his cigar, how he eyes a Faberge egg.

In a small part, a fresh-faced Jude Law is fully committed––(but kind of is the worst redneck since Joaquin Phoenix in U TURN):

We forgive him, though. I think?

Eastwood regular Geoffrey Lewis is believably absurd as the local with a harnessed horsefly escort and a mysterious vial. And the Lady Chablis ("I got it off a wine bottle") is infinitely entertaining and perfectly natural as... herself.

Probably the less one knows about this film going in the better, but I will say that it might contain what I believe is Clint's only foray into the (alluded) supernatural since 1985's PALE RIDER. Four stars.

-Sean Gill

Junta Juleil's Summer '10 Movie Series
1. HELL IN THE PACIFIC (1968, John Boorman)
2. KUFFS (1992, Bruce A. Evans)
3. THE OUTFIT (1973, John Flynn)

4. FOR Y'UR HEIGHT ONLY (1981, Eddie Nicart)

5. A*P*E (1976, Paul Leder)

6. BLIND FURY (1989, Philip Noyce)
7. HIS KIND OF WOMAN (1951, John Farrow)
8. HIGH SCHOOL U.S.A. (1983, Rod Amateau)
9. DR. JEKYLL AND MS. HYDE (1995, David Price)
10. MIDNIGHT IN THE GARDEN OF GOOD AND EVIL (1997, Clint Eastwood)
11. ...

Film Review: REVOLVER (1973, Sergio Sollima)

Stars: 4 of 5.
Running Time: 111 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Oliver Reed, Fabio Testi, Frédéric de Pasquale (THE FRENCH CONNECTION), Peter Berling (THE NAME OF THE ROSE, AGUIRRE THE WRATH OF GOD). Music by Ennio Morricone.
Tag-line: "The last battle between crime and the law in every major city in the world."
Best one-liner: "I'll find you, even if I have to shake the whole fuckin' countryside out like a fuckin' sock!"

I'm a sucker for Eurocrime, and REVOLVER, a French-Italian co-production directed by Sergio Sollima (THE BIG GUNDOWN, VIOLENT CITY, RUN MAN RUN) combines the cool, glossy visuals and fatalism of Melville with the batshit crazy panache of Castellari. Oliver Reed is a prison warden who's coerced (via his kidnapped wife) to release loner inmate Fabio Testi.
There's hippie pop stars, international conspiracies, class warfare, and lots of tight, tight pants.

Reed, one of my all-time favorites, is, unfortunately, dubbed. You'll be missing out his thundering, expressive voice- but enough of the performance is grounded in his husky, raging, walrus-like physicality that you won't feel cheated.

The Italians love reaction shots, and reaction shots love Oliver Reed. The man was made to deliver a stern, simmering stare.


Thugs have got his wife, and he is one angry man. He lets you know- like Paula Abdul, straight up- that he's only a hair's breadth away from slapping the shit out of you at any given moment.

He will yank around a naked fat man by the hair if he has to.


MAN FIGHT!

...

The voice on the trailer tells us that this movie is so brutal that it'll "make Charles Bronson in DEATH WISH look like wishful thinking!" While I wouldn't quite go that far, I will say there's probably more slapping per capita than any comparable film.

"No!"

YAHHHH

There are a lot of great sucker punches, too.

As the released prisoner, Testi is quite the hardass.

His main character trait seems to be his ability to drop a cigarette from a great height and having it land standing on its end.


Not certain how useful that is, but I guess it's impressive, sure. He wears a lot of whacky fur coats and at one point offhandedly bites a snowball like it's an apple.

Improv!

Not exactly like Brando playing with the glove in ON THE WATERFRONT, but hey, at least he's making acting choices. Most of this could make for an unbearable performance, but Testi possesses an innate, loopy likability

Hey-a!

which is the perfect foil to Reed's relentlessly severe countenance. When they become buddies, your living room will likely be graced with a standing ovation.

Fabio: so needy. Oliver: 'I get my gin back after this take, right?'

There's loads of great lines that sound kiiind of like something you might say in English, but they're subtly Italian-ized: "We're like sitting ducks... at a shooting gallery!," "Why you bloody little piece of horseshiiiit!," or "I swear to God unless you start talkin', I'm gonna see the color of your guts!"

"I'll do it! I'll kill myself!"


"Are you Japanese, boy? Let me tell you something. Only the Japanese know how to use a knife on themselves properly. Only the Japanese."

But it's not all fun and games– the Ennio Morricone score is absolutely masterful, darkly suspenseful, and occasionally emotional (rumbling, dissonant pianos; zesty percussion; and frequent, tasteful quoting of "Für Elise"); and the blunt, ruthless finale is as disquieting as it is abrupt. So here- before you start shakin' the fuckin' countryside out like a fuckin' sock– take these four stars.

-Sean Gill