A Man of All Seasons (1966)

Like these figures coming out of the fog, one must be timid on how to approach the film A Man for All Seasons. Do not jump into the unknown, but instead be prepared for the unknown that could present itself on the other side. With full exuberance I jumped into this film without hesitation and without appreciation for the sheer power that this aged piece of cinema could bring. A Man for All Seasons is an Oscar award winning film, it currently has a rating of 8.0 on IMDB.com [as of 5/27/11], and plenty of positive reviews to keep this film floating on the DVD circuit or eventual blu ray for years to come, and quite frankly, perhaps I will rediscover this film later on in life, but for now - after finally completing this nearly two-hour behemoth - A Man for All Seasons felt shallow, underwhelming, and certainly not worthy of the accolades that it has found throughout the years. Absolutely it is grandiose, and one cannot complain about the subject matter, and for those looking for their Orson Welles fix, this film will provide it. BUT, this is not a film that can sustain itself. Taking away from the credit that is due to Alfie or Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? this film just doesn't push the boundaries of film making like the other entries this year were able to do. It is disappointing to see films lauded in their time, but falling flat on their faces today. This, my friends, is the tale of A Man for All Seasons.

To begin, what can a viewer be proud of with this film? The costumes and ability to build such a large period film is standing-ovation impressive. The visuals will not send your eyes away hungry. Welles' attention to the detail of his character only shows how impressed he was with the story itself. Yet, that is all I can applaud. Watching this film, in fact, re-watching this film, sometimes scene by scene, I found myself asking the question - what did I miss? Why wasn't I being pulled further within the conflict of religion vs. politics? Why wasn't I applauding the dedication of Thomas More to his plight? As I squandered these questions, the question that inevitably came through was, "What type of movie was this?" A Man for All Seasons has no action sequences, has no direct love interests, and honestly no real humor or moments of dread. This film falls into the distraught world of being merely a true slice of recreated history. The scenery will tell you that it is true, but to the unread mind, one must merely take this as truth. Where was the music? Where was the intensity of More's life? Why did this film completely and utterly bore me nearly to death?

I am not a man who desires a big spectacle of Hollywood-ism when I sit down to watch my films, in fact, the less at times seems to capture me further into the plot, but with A Man for All Seasons it felt like I had seen this beautiful cake, only to take my first bite and it to be stale. Paul Scofield's portrayal of Thomas More should have been the crux to the film, allowing every eye to focus on his detailed nuance, but in the end, it just felt tired. I could not see the character he was attempting towards, and I could not see any dramatics behind his eyes. He was a place mat, a mere "somebody: to hold the door for the other actors that needed the work. How could he have beat Michael Caine or Richard Burton? It just doesn't make sense. This was a filmed play, nothing original or exciting about it - yet those within the blogs are using headlines like, "Best Film Ever". Did I miss something? Even the always valuable John Hurt was under served in this film, hiding behind the weaker Scofield character, and missing a fuller opportunity to shine.

While I argue that it was the acting that sent this unmanned vehicle plummeting to the sea, one must also consider the direction. This was a very bland film, despite the other options recognized that year, one must see that the camera provided no further inside into this world. It stayed still, the eye was focused on merely one character at a time, and when one walked it walked safely behind. Perhaps "safely" is too kind, the camera remained uninspiring and unoriginal as it focused on the lesser, menial moments of this film. Take a look at the basics behind this ten-minute long scene above, where Scofield walks the room without any excitment, compassion, or character - while our camera focus' us on what will happen next. The camera, in A Man of All Seasons becomes the biggest spoiler of the two hours, allowing no imagination to follow and less focused direction. There was hope early, but it just fizzed as the two hours progressed. As I attempt to put my finger on which point I completely lost interest [probably around the 23:15 mark], I continued to keep hoping that something, honestly anything, would change the perspective, but again with lacking directing, non-creative camera focus, and just a bland hope from all characters, this film quickly began a transform into mush. Despite the accolades, it just fell short.

As you may or may not guess already, I really had higher hopes for A Man for All Seasons, but sadly it just failed, and it failed hard. Sure, these images look beautiful, but substance is also needed behind the camera, and this film was utterly lacking. For those fans of Orson Welles, it is worth a few glances over the shoulder, but overall, it was painful to watch. Found in my "501 Must-See Movies", this was obviously not a "must see". This is not going to be pretty, but it gets a yellow highlight with black mark, not to be watched again (perhaps, I should say, unless a Blu of this hits, then I may - MAY - force myself back into it) Ranking along the lines of the Road Warrior I just forced myself through, this feels troublesome due to the lacking excitement. It is films like this that I wish I was part of the Academy in 1966, so that a better outcome could have been determined. How did this film happen?

Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior (1981)

Mad Max is a lost soul. Through the tedious and perilous journey of the first film, Max survived a dystopian future by fighting automobile villains and dusty roads, but ultimately losing his family. It was an emotional journey, one filled with pitfalls coupled with Gibson demonstrating his acting ability to the screen for the first time. While not the greatest film of all time, there was some ingenuity to the car crashed, the desolate landscape, the Gibson’s personal philosophies. While the film itself hovered around mediocrity, there was some creativity and originality that found bonus points. With Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior (sometimes merely called The Road Warrior) none of that originality or emotional characterization came forth. Considered by many as the true “first” Mad Max film (and in some circles the better of the three), this film falls prey to the rinse, wash, and repeat Hollywood spin cycle. With plenty of crashes, no emotion, less development of side characters, a villain that felt more like Casey Jones instead of a genuine baddie, and a story that seemed lacking in anything exciting, The Road Warrior fell. It fell hard.

What should have been a simple sit down to view an iconic moment of cinematic history, in reality transformed into a full week torture-fest. Picking up where the last film concluded, The Road Warrior provides a very quiet opening, with merely explosions and punk skater dog-soldiers screaming into the air. The scenes are set to bring chaos back into Max’s life, but where Road Warrior crumbles is the penultimate question, “Why?” Why does Max care? Is fuel, an unemotional attachment, his only reason for assisting these survivors whom seem to be doing well themselves and have been for quite some time? Transforming a film whose original genre was a bleak view of human existence and personal Australian sentiment into a full-fledged no-holds barred action film proves a disservice to the original film. Max becomes a paper thin character, fueled (no pun intended) by a need to get more energy and slightly pushed by the wild hair of a boomerang boy. Frustration emerges as this film provides no new platform for Max to evolve as a character. As an audience, we are given a further glimpse of this destroyed planet, but nothing that pushes Max beyond the boundary set in the original film. We know he can drive, we know he can fight, but who/what pushes this man? In this reviewer’s opinion, having just spent a week trying to discover the “why” and “what” of Road Warrior, the answer cannot be found.


Disappointingly we are not even pulled into the original film. Where is Max’s memory of his family? Where are the scenes of an internal struggle between the reality of his existence and any current dreams? Road Warrior felt both rushed and disjointed by having too many villains, too many instant connections, and too many “heroes”. The Gyro Captain, the Casey Jones-esque guy merely called Humungus, the red-Mohawk biker, the kid with wild hair, the semi-love interested that floundered, and so forth. This was a film of ideas that were nowhere near final development. This is a sequel; it has the same character from the original, BUT not the same character from the original. This was not the “Mad Max” that we were originally introduced to, and that becomes a big fault to this film. Why build this emotional character only to ignore it the second time out and replace a true apocalyptic drama with nothing more than explosions, fire, and the occasional boob shot. It felt like a cheap knock off, instead of a true addition to the Mad Max world.

Overall, I wasn’t happy with this film. Found in my “501 Must-See Movies”, Mad Max: The Road Warrior disappointed me further than the original did. I was prepared to fully enjoy this entire series (not having seen Thunderdome yet), but they just fell flat. It was like watching, what did happen in many-a 80s action film where character development fell to the wayside and was replaced with the wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am action. If you don’t believe me, see the original Rambo vs. the rest released. Watching this “sequel”, I just kept waiting for something to tie me back to the original film, but no luck. Yes, The Road Warrior could stand alone, but did we want it to? Was there a small part of me that hoped that Humungus would take me back to the original? Absolutely. Perhaps my hopes were too high for this film, but with the amassed critical praise, it did not deliver. Mel Gibson solidified himself as an action star when it could have been something more. Yellow highlight with a mark. Much less excited then when I finished the original. Horrible.

Manhunter (1986)

Like any good crime drama, Michael Mann's "Manhunter" never gives up, never asks you to forgive, and never takes the undiscovered route. From 1980s CGI, to Joan Allen manhandling tigers, to Tom Noonan giving us one of the most nuanced performances of any serial killer, "Manhunter" stands up to time and future remakes and nearly makes one forget about the Oscar-lauded "Silence of the Lambs" and the nearly laughable Brett Ratner remake, "Red Dragon". Michael Mann has this amazing capability to ensure that audiences are kept on the edge of their seat, while still delivering characters that feel more than just words on the screen. Take for example, Brian Cox's performance of Hannibal Lecktor. His school-boy demeanour coupled with sadistically slow speech will send goosebumps up your spine, and make one nearly forget the iconic performance that Anthony Hopkins brought to the screen years later. Yet, all Mr. Cox has is a few brief moments of screen time. This wasn't a Hannibal Lecktor horror-sequel machine, and thus a broader, more epic story was able to be allowed with Mr. Mann behind the wheel. This is not a Hannibal Lecktor movie, and thus "Manhunter" will always be pushed to the back shelves, but mark my word blog readers, "Manhunter" proves to be a worthy opponent to the Ratner directed counterpart.

With the youthful energy of Brian Cox oozing from the screen, one also must not overlook Tom Noonan's performance which shadows everything Ralph Fiennes attempted to muster in the remake. Noonan is quieter as the Tooth Fairy, making his body (height, fingers, scar on lip) create the sense of fear versus his actions which are typically all caught off camera. There is a scene where Freddy Lounds (played by the shifty Stephen Lang) is forced to open his eyes and we as audience members are given our first glance of Noonan in full figure. The scene is tight, the shot of Lang's eyes as Mann gives us no clue as to what we are ready to feast our eyes upon. The shot of Lang's eyes when they see the monstrosity before him, realizing there will be no escape from this evil. It makes "Manhunter" stronger than it ever has been, and better than its "Red Dragon" counterpart. Noonan is the star of this film, and he is partnered with William Peterson, again, giving us this flawed character that pushes for sympathy, but finds itself stuck in the same audience as the men he surrounds. Is he as crazy as the men he hunts for?

What makes "Manhunter" stand out is Mann's direction. Albeit, this is not the perfect film of the decade. Somewhere from print to DVD scenes were left out, and the entire ending seems choppy and disjointed from the rest of the film. The pacing seems wrong and suddenly we have this slap-happy moment where Dollarhyde has escaped his mental confides, where brainpower outlasts those with a gun, and instead inverts to merely enjoying life with a shotgun. It doesn't fit with the rest of the film, and is ultimately a downfall to the film, but everything leading up to this slam-bam ending is superb. There is a great scene where Graham has used the local paper to hopefully pull the killer out, which doesn't work, but the scene Mann builds is equally full of tension and fears. "Manhunter" is a defined film. It is a thriller, not a horror film, which the latter Hannibal Lector films quickly became. This is a film that has fear in the fore-front, without painting the walls with blood (have I been disproved due to the scene shown a the beginning of this review?) Mann makes Peterson's every move tense. Every scene in this film is brought out by something that reminds you of killing, of the killer, or merely that evil lurks behind it all. Check out the scene below where someone is merely reading a letter -- Yipes:

I remember watching this movie years ago and having trouble with the 80s feel to this film. There were parts that I used to feel bored me, but now, looking at it with more films behind my eyes, "Manhunter" transformed into a movie I wouldn't be afraid to watch again and again. Despite some technical glitches near the end (editing by a drunkard), the tiger scene alone is worth the price of admission. To see Joan Allen caress the tiger, feeling its breath, it is the strongest foreshadowing into the world of Dollarhyde. She is allowing the breath of the tiger to hit her twice, and one cannot forsee what will happen next. What makes Dollarhyde strong as a villain is the extra effort Mann gives to giving him a human element, the misjudged glances by another that gives the Tooth Fairy his fuel is icing on the cinematic cake. Noonan, with Mann's direction is powerful.

Found in my "501 Must See-Movies", this begins a new chapter into the world of "M", and I cannot express that it started with a bang. Next up, "Mad Max 2: Road Warrior", which hopefully will be a better outing than the last "Mad Max" experience. I think the review for that is up on this site. Overall, I really liked "Manhunter". I am adding it to the collection and standing firm that it is the best Hannibal Lecktor film within the past three decades. The tension between Graham and Lecktor and Dollarhyde was intense and brilliant. It gave this bleak impression that perhaps Graham wasn't the good guy, but instead another diabolical madman juggling a world full of them - the only difference here - he has a badge. This is getting a green mark with a blue star. I will watch this again - and I cannot wait to add it to the collection! This is the film to watch to see Noonan at his best, and Lecktor before he was Lector...

Scarred (1983)

Living on the streets is tough. Not being able to speak from experience, but merely influenced via film, books, and true-life events, the trials and tribulations involved with those that rely on the hard concrete for support are harsh. Any book will strike fear within your mind, a film will give you the visuals, and take a few moments to watch the news - there is nothing but honesty there! Upon viewing Scarred, I want to make sure that it is realized that I do not mock those that have to endure the hardship. With that said, Scarred is a visual and cinematic disgrace to those living on the streets. From the painfully blurry cinematography to the atrocious character-less story all the way to whatever our actors were trying to accomplish, Scarred failed. I am not afraid to say, admit, discuss the less-than-redeeming value that Scarred brought to the player. Not only was it embarrassing for everyone involved, but - well - I didn't even finish it. Admittingly, I did fast forward until the end just to see if there would be anything of value to pull away from - but nothing at all. The only high point to this film -- the ending credits!

Analytically, let's take a look at this movie. Red, as seen from the photos, is the color of the night. The ladies in red represent those of the night, and our lead - Jennifer Mayo - representing the color with the name Ruby - leaves her home due to struggles as well as an unwanted child. The lines, like the image on this cut-rate DVD are blurred. From chugging (and not spitting out) what seems like the COSTCO brand of Listerine to the Carrie-esque inspired blood/paint sequence that adds no further value to the overall story. I understand that director Rosemarie Turko perhaps wanted the film to ooze realism, which is valid, but cannot work if there is no structure. There was no sympathy for our characters, nothing that made us (the viewers) want to do anything more than wait until the final frames. There are "johns" that add nothing to the immediate needs of our main character Ruby. Who is Ruby? Why is she so whiny? Why does she look like she is twelve? What brought her to this significant point in her life? Nothing was added, informed, or detailed. Ruby was a paper bag character, used to float through each scene, bring us to an unfelt conclusion.

The final entry in my "Destroy all Movies" book, this has been a hodgepodge ride of decent, mediocre, to really bad cinema. I think this mix best represented the true mix of Hollywood in the 80s and the unsure direction of modern cinema (yet the birth of independent producing - as this film Scarred was brought to us partially funded by AFI and through the National Endowment of the Arts -- which all I can say is "what a low point for both of these organizations"). Alas, I cannot speak anything positive about this film. Scarred is what the dollar bin was specifically created for - or should I say, also why late-night Cinemax was famous for. Ruby was pointless, nothing made sense, and ultimately it was a huge failure. I will always take 80s films, but this was too much a difficult pill to swallow (I was going to use a street reference, but I am not sure what kids read these choppy words). Sadly, yet proudly, this is getting a yellow highlight with black mark. Nobody should watch this film and it constantly surprises me that this can find a release, but most amazing old, classic, and powerful cinema is left in vaults to die. So very sad.

Scanners III: The Takeover (1992)

Is it wrong that I have now seen Scanners III, but none of the others in this series? Is it like starting with the last Matrix movie questioning everything you witness? Let me answer that question with a defined, "NO". You may begin with Scanners III and be pleasantly surprised. Upon watching this movie, I was taken back to a time when VHS was the norm, and Hollywood studios didn't mind releasing low-budget films, because the creativity was ever-present. Today, the same rushed garbage just keeps hitting the streets because DVD is cheap, and a sequel knock-off doesn't need a load of cash. Scanners III provided plenty of boobs, improbabilities, and impressive special effects for a film so far removed from the original Cronenberg classic that, while laughable, just transformed you to a better cinematic time. The story of Scanners III never felt rushed, the details were laid out well, and the ending had one of those quintessential moments that questioned the true finale of Scanners III. It was low budget, it was pure, nearly uncut science fiction that took you to the far reaches of the world. It also had a pretty intense Hot Tub death scene. The science also felt believable. I was impressed.

Found in my "Destroy All Movies" book, this nearly wraps up another great set of films. While mixed on many, this one is one that I am proud to have in the collection. A great early 90s romp through what feels more creative and original then the inner-workings of today's Hollywood. Giving a pink mark (not quite perfect) means that I would revisit it again, and I would be very excited to show this to a group of people! A great entry into a series I cannot wait to explore further!

Satisfaction (1988)

Satisfaction. Upon finishing this film, words are difficult to really formulate on the sole reaction to this film. There were intense moments, 1980s hair, a lackadaisical approach to real-life though it seemed our characters came from a troubled past (hint: see the Bateman broken home), and there was tons (not an over-exaggeration) of cowbell. As our 80s teen-drama begins, Justine Bateman (looking overly man-ish) is a hard nosed rocker ready for her big break the summer before college. She has graduated with a punk attitude and is ready to take over the world. With a riled graduation speech, and her gang of misfit chicks, this modern-day "Jem and the Holograms" grabs a local keyboard nerd and the stage is set for great tunes, young love, and awkward chemistry. Add to the mix a relationship years too soon, a young Liam Neeson, a drug problem, and inevitably an attempted Julia Roberts' rape scene, and you have the homogeneous film, Satisfaction.

Is this film any good? Those reading this review - do you really want to know? First, this was 1988, where writing was second nature to just filling in plot points. This is a prime example. Watching Satisfaction there are these blatantly obvious moments where those involved with the production knew they just didn't have enough to work with. Case in point: the volleyball scene. A group of angry, scorched band mates decide they want to challenge a bright sunny day with volleyball, hilarity should have ensued, but instead we were bombarded with a montage scene that could rival that of "Team America, World Police". The entire scene doesn't fit. Which basically snowballs the rest of this film. It is a juggle between horrible acting, overplayed songs, and cheese. Plain cheesy. Going beyond the atypical review where we can break down the characters, where we can find the guiding light of honesty within film, and talk about the social necessities of youth, music, and the hardships of realities - it just doesn't happen in Satisfaction.

When this doesn't happen then what are you left with? There needs to be something that audiences can relate to - that audiences can grow into, but nothing arrives. We only have five major players in this whole film, and none can escape the paper bag that they have been drawn into. Cliche after cliche attempts to push through the overbearing live performances that our characters cannot control. They do not know music, their stances and expressions push away from realism, but again, who expects that with Satisfaction? Look at the box art. This is candy, old candy. Candy that has been sitting at your grandmother's house for years past, just waiting for that perfect time to enjoy.

If it feels that I am being overly harsh with this film, fair not, I wasn't the only one. Being a box office bomb (not to mention Justine's first major motion picture) and further demonstrating the failed Julia Roberts' acting ability [ie: Eat, Pray, Love], this was renamed for television in hopes to find further viewers that would be fooled by the clever name change "Girls of Summer". Satisfaction provided nothing that the title suggested. Its bland story was heavily bolded by the dubbed singing and faux-guitar playing that each member of this film attempted to accurately portray. Does it speak anything about Satisfaction when Liam Neeson, to this day, still claims not to have seen this movie? I wish I could only be so lucky.

Found in my "Destroy all Movies: Punks in Film" book, Satisfaction provided no, none, extinct satisfaction. The mix-matched group of girls coupled with the overly boozy Neeson just seemed and felt too cookie-cutter for any real originality to occur. There was no character development, no creative music, and our director - one Joan Freeman - used simplistic shots and classic 80s cut-scenes to force unheralded drama onto the viewers. There is no reason why this couldn't have been a lighter romp, but with the undercurrent of broken homes, drug use, and a big F**k You to the world, this pushed the dark envelope too much for the safe boundaries. I cannot stress this enough, but the entire volleyball scene just ruined the film for me. Not only were these supposed good singers, but they couldn't understand the basics for volleyball? Were we dealing with idiots that were victims of happenstance? It just didn't work.

Alas, Satisfaction you are getting a yellow highlight with black mark - never to be seen or suggested again. I end on this one question. Using this as your resume, how did both Justine Bateman and Julia Roberts' ever find work again? Does a pretty face outweigh talent? The world may never know...

The Satan Killer (1993)

Had the unique opportunity to watch this direct-to-video Virginia made movie yesterday, and needless to say it was horrible and funny all at the same time. Don't be upset by the box-art, neither one of these characters are in the actual film (there are ones that look like them, but less glossy). This is a low-budget, curse word laden feature that made the 80s glorious, but instead fell well behind the times and was released in 1993. In that sense, it just doesn't work. The horrible budget, the lackluster visuals, and the story that feels like it is cookie-cut direct from other, big budget stories, cheapens the entire need to ever go visit Virginia Beach. I am surprised that VA Beach even allowed this to happen.

First, let me say that I am proud to have this at my Video Store, and if you still have a VHS player, come and check this low-budget atrocity out. I do not think that this is the last you will see of The Satan Killer, but I will not be watching this movie again. I laughed quite a bit, but man - who edited this slice of trash.

I went into this film no expectations, and I actually came out of this film with less exepectations. This was like the action-version of The Dead Next Door which only lives due to the cultish nature of the film. If you like films like the one mentioned or Troll 2, then this may be right up your alley. Hey, I am going to suggest it to you if you come and and say "I need a good VHS to watch tonight". But, I am not going to rate it well here. Found in my "Destroy All Movies" book, it is getting a pink mark. I just changed my idea right there. I was going in with this film to give it a yellow mark, but I changed - due to a slight appreciation for the unexpected humor. I also liked the Doug Wilder banners flashed all around.

This would be a great addition to MOVIE DAY. I will keep it until then!