#95. Dead End (1937)

 

 

William Wyler had a script, a single set, and a dream.

 

Dead End might not be an especially complex movie, with its shallow plot and heavy moralizing, but it sure does a great job of recreating a New York City slum through some dark, cramped construction. This set is so well-realized that I don't even really mind the fact that the whole story takes place here, especially because it makes for some vivid class conflict. With the poor living conditions contrasted against those penthouse condos, it really drives home the central themes, and emphasizes the zero sum possibilities of living in such an environment.

 

But while the setting's generally stationary, the story's actually pretty versatile. If anything, a few of these individuals actually get a little lost in the shuffle (Francey's a good example), which occasionally strains the focus, but it also allows for some snappier pacing and character-heavy interactions - the best coming from Bogart, who shows a ton of promise with a soon-to-be-trademark cool performance, and those Dead End Kids, whose antics aren't as obnoxious than they probably should be. 

 

By and large, this movie is certainly of its time, but the colourful characters, relaxed vibe, interesting plot developments, and, again, that fantastic set make for some easy and enjoyable viewing. 

 

Grade: A-

 

#94. Blue Sunshine (1977)

 

 

Like most low-budget horror movies, especially from around this time, Blue Sunshine can be a little rough around the edges. The tone's wildly inconsistent, the performances aren't very believable, and the ending lacks resolution. But, as you might expect, there's also something distinct and offbeat about this presentation that gives the movie a unique style of its own.

 

Probably my favourite aspect here is the unique mix of genres, wherein slasher sensibilities are blended with a political thriller plot. As the former, it can include a handful of chilling murder sequences (the one with the fire sure is memorable), and, as the latter, it can create some decent intrigue through a bizarre mystery. It's not always a perfect marriage, but these halves do complement each other unusually well, especially given the fact that they both center around suspense and paranoia (and also because they're both so distinctly '70s).

 

Also, this is just a solid horror premise. Like, if D.A.R.E. really wanted to scare our generation straight, they should've just told us that LSD would eventually cause all of our hair to fall off. 

 

Grade: B+

 

#93. The Rock (1996)

 

 

Look, I never said I was perfect, okay?

 

When it comes to '90s blockbusters, especially of the action variety, I'm embarrassingly easy to please. But, even with that in mind, I still have to cop to being surprised by how much I enjoyed The Rock. Michael Bay has never exactly been a favourite filmmaker of mine (shocker, I know), and it's not like this one's tonally or stylistically different from anything else he's made. So what was the secret ingredient here?

 

It could be a premise thing. I'm far more into the idea of "Die Hard on Alcatraz" than I am, say, "drillers in space" or "robots in disguise". Or it might be the fact that Bay wasn't leaning too heavily on obnoxious spectacle just yet (frankly, the whole thing feels more like it belongs to Jerry Bruckheimer, which might explain the quality). But I think the most likely answer is also the simplest one, and that's the cast.

 

When you combine the talents of Sean Connery (who's as suave as ever), Nicolas Cage (who's possibly at his most endearing), and Ed Harris (who certainly can't be accused of not committing), the material basically elevates itself. And when you then tack on some sincere humour and a plot involving the US military industrial complex, you're left with a movie that's at or near the top of its class.

 

Truly can't believe I hadn't seen this all the way through before now. 

 

Grade: A+

 

#92. The Devil and Daniel Webster (1941)

 

 

A.K.A. All That Money Can Buy, which was its original release title (in order to avoid confusion with The Devil and Miss Jones, another RKO production).

 

Satan's always a fun character to center a story around, right? Like, I get that the dude has by now been depicted so many times on screen that he's nowhere near as inherently intimidating as he once was, but I still think there's something dangerous and exciting about seeing this sinister figure tempt ordinary people with material possessions in exchange for their souls. 

 

Naturally, this is the area where The Devil and Daniel Webster makes the biggest impression. Beyond the fact that the drama's especially compelling here, Walter Huston really leans into the mischievous side of the character, and the effects used to generate the other supernatural beings are incredibly vivid. It's a lot of shadows and visual blurriness, which creates a certain dream-turned-nightmare atmosphere.

 

The overall story is pretty basic and familiar for the most part, and it tends to be somewhat light on the fantasy aspect for my liking, but there's also a folk tale quality to the movie that makes it feel slightly timeless. And while I can't put it in the same league as The Wizard of Oz or It's a Wonderful Life (though what is?), it's operating on similar levels of imagination and morality, further enhancing that classic appeal.

 

Grade: A-

 

#91. Bowling for Columbine (2002)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

Even putting aside his politics, Michael Moore's not for everybody. The guy can be annoying, intrusive, entitled, and, as a filmmaker, biased to the point of skewing his own facts in order to prove a point. But when he weaponizes these trollish qualities against people and corporations that deserve it, as is the case with Bowling for Columbine, it can make for a work that's as gratifying as it is insightful.

 

This documentary is a riveting and powerful look at gun violence in America, using the 1999 Columbine shooting as an entry point. Sure, a lot of this subject matter might feel kinda quaint and obvious today (we hear about a new school shooting every other week now, it seems), but that just proves Moore's point, doesn't it? It shows that, even if we never come to any hard conclusions, this was a conversation that needed - and still needs - to happen if we want to see some change.

 

And Moore's great about packaging this material in a way that's easy to digest. He uses humour to keep things entertaining (while never taking it so far as to lose the gravity of the situation), and conducts interviews with such confrontation and disdain that you get some wonderfully embarrassing first-hand insight into how full of shit most of these loudmouth gun nuts really are.

 

I'd call this one essential viewing, but chances are your middle school already showed it to you.

 

Grade: A

 

P.S. As a Canadian, I'm slightly dubious of the door-locking segment, amusing as it is. With one or two exceptions, everyone I know has always locked their doors.

 

#90. Sudden Fear (1952)

 

 

The first thirty minutes or so of Sudden Fear are decent enough, if a bit dry and conventional. But once everyone's intentions come into focus, and Myra listens to that SoundScriber recording (including a skip on "I know a way," which was a fantastic touch), we abruptly swerve into thriller territory, where the movie had me hooked right through to the end.

 

Perhaps the strongest element here, along with the glossy cinematography, is our protagonist's arc. I love seeing her transformation from a woman in peril to someone who suddenly understands her predicament to a fighter who now has to figure out what to do about it, all on her own. It's immediately compelling, and made all the better by Joan Crawford's heightened vulnerability. She was born for the kinds of roles that capitalize on her wide-eyed looks of shock and anger.

 

Granted, both her performance and the movie's overall presentation are probably verging on being over-the-top, but I honestly prefer a little hyperbole in my noirs. Gives them some needed energy, y'know? And besides, the whole thing's so twisty and shadowy and emotion-heavy that the storytelling feels consistent, and therefore largely believable.

 

Bold statement, but I stand by it: this movie's as taut and entertaining as anything Hitchcock made up to this point.

 

Grade: A

 

#89. Sleepwalkers (1992)

 

 

By most accounts, this is one of the weaker Stephen King stories (I almost said "adaptations", but then I remembered that it was an original screenplay) in existence. And, yeah, I get it. Sleepwalkers is silly and dumb and not at all scary, and feels more like the kind of thing you'd catch on YTV on a Saturday night than a movie that got a wide theatrical release.

 

But, as someone who grew up loving Goosebumps and Are You Afraid of the Dark?, this kind of cheap, whimsical, distinctly early '90s horror works just fine for me. The concept of cat-like shapeshifters that can only be killed by actual cats is both ridiculous and really fun, and the unusually committed cast (particularly Alice Krige and Mädchen Amick) help to somewhat - somewhat - ground and legitimize this insane story.

 

Is it developed or tonally consistent? Not in the slightest (though both arguably add to the camp appeal). But it's also got a vibrant tone, a tumultuous teen romance, two cute leads, fun puppet effects, charming monster makeup, corny kills (even of the literal variety), and honest-to-god incest. So the universal derision is mostly lost on me.

 

Grade: B+

 

P.S. I can't hear that Enya song without expecting Lauryn Hill to tell me that she's gonna find me and take it slowly.

 

P.P.S. Considering he has the perfect face for these effects, it's honestly kinda shocking that Ron Perlman doesn't transform in this movie.