#88. Spun (2002)

 

 

You can tell that Spun was made by a music video director. It's all flash, all the time. But, as someone who also loves speed, energy, and saturation, I had no problem injecting this style into my veins.

 

More than anything, the editing is the clear highlight here. Because the movie's vibe is meant to be that of a drug-fueled fever dream, it contains some of the fastest and most frenetic cutting I've ever seen. You'd think this kind of whirlwind presentation would get old or annoying after a while (and, yeah, maybe it does at times), but I think there's enough characterization and emotional range throughout that it rarely becomes a problem.

 

It also helps that the movie's as raw as it is. Despite the visual pizazz, you can't really accuse this material of being glamourized or sanitized. It's honestly downright filthy at times. And yet, the mood is never so heavy or dark that it makes me want to get off the ride entirely. Sure, there isn't much in the way of substance here, but I found the lack of plot or dramatics made for some great character work, and a fun hangout experience, even if I wouldn't want to be within ten miles of any of these people in real life.

 

Grade: A-

 

#87. The Package (1989)

 

 

For context: The Fugitive is one of my all-time favourite movies. Top ten for sure, probably top five. So when I watched this one - also directed by Andrew Davis - and found an unusual amount of overlap (right down to the use of the Hilton), I was immediately on board.

 

Like The Fugitive, The Package is taut and clever, consistently tense, brimming with chilly Chicago atmosphere, and even manages to make some room for an intriguing little mystery. These similarities probably aren't saying much for the former's originality, but both movies are so snappy and sharp and well-textured (and, of course, stylistically nostalgic to me) that they make for incredibly easy viewing.

 

Plus, it also has a number of strengths in its own right. There's an added tinge of paranoia to the story, which helps to tighten the screws and raise the stakes, and I like the relationship between Gene Hackman and Joanna Cassidy. It's somewhat rare to see a slightly older couple center this kind of thriller. And the smaller roles from Dennis Franz, Pam Grier, John Heard, and, yes, Tommy Lee Jones provide a lot of personality, even if the latter three aren't as present as I'd like.

 

Most people probably wouldn't consider this movie to be anything special, but I guess we've hit on one of those cases where I'm not most people. I thought it was suspenseful, absorbing, well-plotted, full of flavour (there's also a Christmas vibe here), and further evidence that Davis might be among my favourite action directors.

 

Grade: A

 

#86. Blood Feast (1963)

 

 

This is far and away the most amateur production I've covered so far, and it definitely shows. On a technical level, Blood Feast is a garbage can. The cinematography is point and shoot, the staging is like something out of a school play, the dialogue is horrendous, and the acting is legitimately some of the worst I've ever seen (you at home could do a better job than these people). And the result is a film that feels like porn without the sex.

 

But I guess that's to be expected, right? You don't go into a splatter movie looking for sharp writing and Oscar-worthy performances. No, you're here to see some shocking and creative kills, which this thing certainly has. Granted, these aren't the most convincing murder scenes ever filmed, but they're jarring and colourful and fleshy enough to get the job done, especially by 1963 standards.

 

Unfortunately, as you might guess, there aren't enough of them. Far too many of this movie's 67 minutes are consumed by long, boring, unbroken dialogue scenes, and they really kill the vibe. I try to be appreciative of works that genuinely push the envelope (especially when they can do so simply by being aggressively tasteless), but this is clearly an instance where the influence is far greater than the actual quality.

 

Grade: C+

 

#85. The Day of the Locust (1975)

 

 

We've seen plenty of movies about Hollywood being a cruel, disappointing facade that shatters dreams on a daily basis, but this particular take feels especially sardonic. In its best moments, The Day of the Locust is a dark, searing indictment of its setting and culture, with characters that are doomed to fail and a visual style that somehow manages to turn warm, sunny imagery into a nightmarish hellscape.

 

This "best", however, can be a little few and far between. Perhaps that was the intention, though - the movie definitely has a meandering vibe to it, alternating from one perspective to the next on a dime and including scenes that probably would've been cut from something more polished. These detours only occasionally work, and the result is a slightly sluggish middle hour, but they certainly drive home the gaudy and messy atmosphere that Schlesinger was no doubt shooting for.

 

And then we reach the climax, where the movie finally reaches the grotesque and operatic heights that it's been alluding to for the entire runtime. Celebrity worship is cleverly juxtaposed against brutal street violence, and the result is an apocalyptic riot, one that's rife with mass destruction and horrific imagery. It's excessive in a way that perfectly matches the overall tone and scale, and closes this bitter satire with an unusual sense of fulfillment.

 

Grade: B+

 

#84. Night Shift (1982)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

A.K.A. the other buddy movie from 1982 that introduced a soon-to-be A-lister to the movie world through some obnoxious a cappella.

 

Ron Howard's first major release is much sweeter in practice than it probably is in theory. When you consider both the audacious prostitution premise and the murderous opening scene, you'd be forgiven for expecting something with a much darker tone. But while Night Shift lacks danger and edge (though the location work provides some grit), it compensates with a great deal of warmth and humour.

 

Granted, this approach feels somewhat generic at times, but I think that's part of the appeal. Simple as it may sound, I like when '80s comedies emphasize lighthearted tones, likeable characters, crisp nighttime atmospheres, and montages set to goofy pop tracks. And while things occasionally get weighed down by gooey sentimentality and formulaic arcs, the snappy pacing and charismatic performances do more than enough work to keep the energy flowing.

 

Speaking of: if there's one reason to see this movie, it's obviously my guy Michael Keaton. He's probably more annoying here than he is charming, but his antics are still lively enough to make the situations seem funnier than they really are - especially when they're set against the more low-key (though perfectly pleasant) performances from Henry Winkler and Shelley Long.

 

Grade: B+

 

#83. I Care a Lot (2020)

 

I'm tempted to say that I hated this movie, but I think a more accurate statement would be that I didn't understand it, particularly from a rooting interest standpoint.

 

Like, was I actually supposed to care about any of these characters? Because it sure seems like that was the intention (there are too many sincere moments for any of this to work as satire), and, if it was, then I guess I'm just not seeing the appeal here. Marla and her partner are irredeemable in a way that I didn't find even remotely compelling or fun to watch, and the Russian mafia guys are so incompetent that their frequent failures genuinely started to irritate me after a while. I promise I'm not one of those people who needs to love and relate to every character in order to enjoy a story, but I'd sure like to feel something other than seething contempt every now and then, especially when the plot relies so heavily on conveniently botched hits.

 

And even when we put aside the character stuff, I found the comedic elements tired and unfunny, the crime elements dumb and unconvincing, and the attempts at female empowerment laughably misguided. This one might've stood an outside chance if Dianne Wiest was the lead (establishing some relatable stakes and giving the feminist message far more resonance), or if it leaned more heavily on the absurdity of it all. But, as it stands, I honestly think the whole thing's a confused, miserable, aggravating wash.

 

Grade: D+

#82. The Blackcoat's Daughter (2015)

 

 

This is one of those "acquired taste" horror movies, the kind that relies much more heavily on slow burn storytelling and unsettling atmospheres than outright scares. We've seen a lot of these in recent years, and there's always something slightly ostentatious about them, but they also generally manage to hook me in with their looming and haunting moods. 

 

Osgood Perkins, a director I'm entirely unfamiliar with (though I recognize him as the son of Anthony Perkins, and as that dorky student from Legally Blonde), clearly knows how to keep this material compelling. The way he lingers on cold, dark, shivery winter textures, the way he warps his narratives in order to maintain intrigue, the way he makes use of disquieting sound design - this guy's the real deal.

 

Mind you, the concept isn't that original, and the slower storytelling doesn't always succeed (once you make the connection between the two narratives, the movie takes a little too long to wrap everything up), but it's otherwise smart and patient in the ways that matter, while also being the kind of dread-drenched experience that makes you temporarily forget what joy feels like. 

 

Grade: B+