#163. Labyrinth (1986)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1, though I'm no longer certain I actually saw the whole thing, because all the stuff I remembered happens in the first half.

 

My fifth grade teacher actually showed this one to us, and, in hindsight, I'm glad she did. Ten is basically the perfect age to handle a darker fairy tale while still being kinda scared by it (okay, a few elements were downright terrifying to me - particularly Bowie himself), and that sense of danger really makes the whole experience feel stirringly vivid and real. 

 

Watching the movie again over twenty years later (I didn't enjoy doing that math), it still feels vivid and real, but that's mostly because I'm now far more appreciative of the '80s creativity on display. The practical puppets are adorably tactile and full of life, and the labyrinth itself is just a fantastic series of sets and set pieces. There's a new design and creature around every corner, and they all really come together to bring this nightmarish world to life.

 

Sure, the story becomes a little repetitive here and there, and it starts to lose some steam after the Fire Gang scene (though the Relativity-inspired climax gets us back on track), but this setting is ultimately so imaginative and weird that I can live with a meandering narrative. 

 

Grade: B+

 

#162. The Grifters (1990)

 

 

This wasn't at all what I was expecting. When I heard the title and saw the cast and watched the opening scene, which introduces us to these three characters via tracking shots and split screens, I anticipated a heist movie with energy and pizzazz. Or at least something that gets into the craft and showmanship of grifting (can you tell I'm a fan of Ocean's Eleven?). But what I got instead was a downbeat neo-noir, one that lands somewhere between pulp pastiche and bleak character study.

 

That's not a bad thing, for the record. I generally like being surprised. And even if the vibes of this one are still undeniably strange (the tone, dialogue, and score feel slightly "off", and that's before we get to the incest), causing me to spend a decent chunk of the runtime wondering what the hell I was watching, there's nevertheless a dark nastiness to the mood and plot that I found somewhat intoxicating after a while - to the point where Stephen Frears's Oscar nomination started making sense to me (and the same goes for Huston and Bening, who both nail their tricky characters).

 

Certain movies tend to work better in the rear view than in real time. It's probably too early to make that judgment call with this one, but I can tell you that my thoughts on it are much more positive now than they were during the actual viewing.

 

Grade: B+

#161. Osmosis Jones (2001)

 

 

Doesn't surprise me to learn that this one bombed. I mean, I was a dumb eight-year-old in 2001, and even I wasn't especially interested in seeing it. And yet, there must've been something about the title and character design that made an impression on me, because here I was, a quarter century later, still kind of curious about what I was missing.

 

And... I actually quite enjoyed it. My younger self would've been pleasantly surprised. There's a Y2K feel to the animation, the upbeat R&B soundtrack (god, I miss this kind of music in movies), and the general sense of humour that hit my nostalgia bone, and I was really into the premise and worldbuilding. Just the concept of making characters out of human cells and organisms is genuinely clever (it's very Inside Out meets Magic School Bus), to such a degree that I'd have to imagine that the jokes and conflicts basically wrote themselves.

 

There's also some live-action stuff going on here, and while it's definitely on the lazy and lethargic side (especially given the over-reliance on gross-out humour, and the fact that Bill Murray's turning in another one of his "I'm way too good for this" performances), I still found it funny and energetic in a way that gels with the animation. But you might want to take that opinion with a few grains of salt - I'm a sucker for any movie that combines these two mediums.

Grade: B+

#160. Weapons (2025)

 

 

The guy who once walked around with a gallon of PCP turned out to be a great horror filmmaker. Who knew?

 

Actually, if you're at all familiar with comedy and horror, it makes a lot of sense. The two have a much bigger Venn diagram overlap than you might initially think (heightened emotions, anticipatory expectations, an element of surprise, etc.), and Zach "Now You Fucked Up" Cregger cleverly intertwines them to tell an electric, creative, and often hilarious tale of grief and paranoia.

 

I obviously love the tone of this one, but I'm also big on the way it uses different perspectives to slowly reveal itself. It makes for a more effective mystery, it paints a clearer and fuller picture of this suburb, and it allows for some amusing and conflicting interactions (plus, I'm just a fan of this kind of kaleidoscopic storytelling in general; it's big and messy in a way that appeals to me). The whole thing builds pretty flawlessly, and eventually pays off with a dark, emotional, and worthwhile climax.

 

As much as I enjoyed Barbarian, I think this one's a step up in almost every way, to the point that, for the first time in my life, I'm actually a little curious about a Resident Evil movie. 

 

Grade: A

 

#159. The Drowning Pool (1975)

 

 

Didn't realize this was a sequel (to a movie I've never seen) until I started reading up on it after the fact. Whoops!

 

Ah, whatever. I can't imagine I'm missing a ton of context here. The story seems pretty isolated, and the character doesn't appear to have much of a backstory (aside from the brief romance that's explained to us). Throw that on top of the fact that you've got Paul Newman playing a detective, and I was able to buy in almost immediately. 

 

Most P.I. thrillers from around this time were generally interested in some form of deconstruction, but I like that The Drowning Pool opts for a relatively direct (though still narratively complex) approach. A lot of that has to do with my transparent love of straightforward mysteries, naturally, but it also means that the protagonist can now be charming and affable in a way that doesn't feel out of place, and the story can include some genuine stakes without becoming grim or overbearing. There's a good balance here, and it generates a charisma that easily overcomes the nuts & bolts plot.

 

Also working to the movie's benefit are the sunny Louisiana setting, Gordon Willis's contrasting cinematography (lots of appealing lights and darks going on), a great title-related set piece, and a witty, intelligent script. I guess I need to add Harper to my watchlist now.

 

Grade: A-

 

#158. The Red Light Bandit (1968)

 

 

A.K.A. O Bandido da Luz Verlemha

 

I never know whether to use the English title or the one from the country of origin when it comes to these foreign-language movies. Is there a system I need to know about? Or should I just keep going with whatever Wikipedia and Letterboxd use?

 

Anyway, The Red Light Bandit, as I'm choosing to call it, is the first Brazilian (and I'm pretty sure the first South American) film I've ever seen, so I don't have a strong handle on the underground movement it was experiencing at the time. But I will say that, as an outsider, it reminds me a lot of the French New Wave, for better and for worse.

 

On the positive side, I appreciate how uninhibited and radical the movie is, with its scrappy energy, provocative commentary (I'm especially partial to those sensationalist narrators), and general emphasis on bad taste. But, on the flip side, it's also mopey and self-satisfied in the way that a lot of New Wave movies are often accused of being, with a wandering narrative approach that, while unique and expressive, tends to get in the way of the simple, character-driven premise.

 

Speaking of, my favourite portion of the movie was the opening half hour, which manages to combine young rebellion, reckless crime, dark humour, and Beethoven's 5th in a way that feels like a proto-Clockwork Orange.

 

Grade: B

 

#157. Where Danger Lives (1950)

 

 

"Lovers on the run" is generally a rock-solid premise, and while Where Danger Lives is pretty generic for the most part, I think it manages to shake up the formula just enough to keep this sparse plot fairly interesting. Our hero is bruised and confused (sustaining one of the meanest concussions in film history), our femme fatale may or may not be totally certifiable, and we're not even certain that these two actually need to be running in the first place. It's all very vague and delirious, which I kinda liked.

 

Similarly, the adventure angle allows for a few nightmarish stops, from the used car salesman to the sketchy pawnbroker to the Whiskers Week wedding (seriously, what the hell was up with that town?). Maybe these aren't the most thrilling or memorable scenes ever filmed, but I'd say that they're paced and performed capably enough to get the job done, while also being stylistically woozy and paranoid in a way that suits both the urgent tone and dazed state of mind.

 

Aside from a tragic lack of Claude Rains (which is especially inexcusable when you consider that his six minutes of screen time are easily the best ones in the movie), and the fact that the big reveal is exactly what you're expecting it to be, I was mostly along for this tight, tense, and somewhat silly little ride. 

 

Grade: B+

 

P.S. If you're a fan of Robert Mitchum's sleepy eyes, you really need to see them in action here. They're puffier and droopier than ever.