Raymond Benson (see also Criterion Corner)
Entries from October 2019
“BE
KIND, REWINDâ€
By
Raymond Benson
On
second thought, don’t rewind this tape. Destroy it! Don’t let anyone in your
family watch it!
The
phenomenon known as “J-Horror,†or Japanese Horror, had been brewing for
decades (Kwaidan, anyone?), but it was Hideo Nakata’s Ringu (“Ringâ€)
in 1998 that jumpstarted the movement. Motion pictures of the ilk are usually
derived from ghost stories, Japanese folklore, and revenge tales, mixed with a
modern horror-film sensibility, a dash of gruesomeness, and often a creepy
dripping-wet ghost-girl (a yūrei) with long
black hair covering her face coming to get you in your dreams or out of, say, a
television set, in your waking hours.
Ringu
spawned
a franchise in and of itself, with eight films in total, two television series,
six manga adaptations, five international film remakes, and two video games.
It’s
only fair to acknowledge author Koji Suzuki’s 1991 novel and its subsequent
sequels to form the initial trilogy, and then three later books in the
universe. There was also an earlier made for television feature, Ring:
Kanzenban, in 1995 that did little to advance the property. Only after the
massive success of the first theatrically released feature did the thing take
off. The original Ringu and its first sequel, Rasen, mostly follow
the books, whereas the rest of the movies went in another direction.
Most
people in the West probably know the franchise from Gore Verbinski’s Hollywood
remake, The Ring, starring Naomi Watts (2002, and it’s a good one).
Nevertheless, the Japanese originals are worth investigating, especially for
viewers who are horror film buffs. Arrow Video has released a Blu-ray box set
of the first four pictures in the series to satisfy this audience, and the
product is a delight.
Disk
One: Ringu, directed by Hideo Nakata. It’s the story of a videotape that
kills people who watch it. As soon as someone views the tape, the phone rings. A
voice remarks, “Seven days.†Then, seven days later, the ghost of a young
woman, Sadako Yamamura, who was thrown by her own father into a well to die thirty
years earlier, appears and kills the viewer. There’s a way out, though… but
that won’t be revealed here.
While
the use of a VHS videotape as the object of menace is today dated and quaint,
the ideas behind the story are still potent. This is an unsettling little
movie. It of course didn’t have the kind of budget that the American remake
had, but that could be why the picture is so effective. Nakata’s direction is
pitch-perfect, with no cheap jump-scares or gratuitous gore. Ringu works
by way of the suspense and sense of surreal macabre that it generates.
Arrow
presents the feature in a brand new 4K restoration from the original camera
negative (approved by DP Junichiro Hayashi), and the 1080p high definition looks
marvelous. The soundtrack is a lossless Japanese DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 and
PCM 2.0, with optional English subtitles. It’s accompanied by a new audio
commentary by film historian David Kalat.
The
supplements are plentiful—“The Ringu Legacy†is a series of interviews from
critics and filmmakers on the Ringu series; “A Vicious Circle†is all
about the career of director Nakata; “Circumnavigating Ringu†is an interesting
video essay by author and critic Alexandra Heller-Nicholas on the evolution of
the series; a stand-alone clip of Sadako’s video; and theatrical trailers. A
reversible sleeve with commissioned artwork and the theatrical poster adorns
the jewel case.
Disk
Two: Ringu 2, directed by Hideo Nakata, and Rasen,
directed by George Iida. The first sequel to Ringu was Rasen (“Spiralâ€),
a true adaptation of Suzuki’s second book in the series. Oddly, it was released
in theaters simultaneously with Ringu in order to push the films into
franchise mode. While Rasen is a fine film, it bombed, while Ringu became
an international hit. Rasen was relegated to forgotten status and was
for some time suppressed as the sequel to Ringu. Its story continues
with the investigation into the history of the videotape and Sadako’s tragic
life, and the picture features some of the same actors from Ringu. It’s
not bad, but it’s true that it doesn’t have the impact of the first movie.
To
rebound, the studio immediately commissioned Nakata and much of the team from Ringu
to quickly make a “proper†sequel, which was called Ringu 2 and
released in 1999. Like Rasen, it begins at the end of Ringu, but
then explores new mythology behind the story. There are characters and actors
held over, but new ones are introduced as well. Ringu 2 is quite good
(better than Rasen, to be sure), but attempting to top Ringu is a
tall order. Nevertheless, the eerie factor is up to 11, and there is some
striking imagery throughout.
“KEATON’S
FIRST MASTERPIECEâ€
By
Raymond Benson
Although
Buster Keaton had starred in two feature films (and directed one of them), it
wasn’t until the release of Our Hospitality in late 1923 that he
established himself as a major force of cinema to rival the likes of Chaplin.
Of course, he had already starred in and directed numerous shorts, all of which
served to build his reputation—but it is this beautifully-rendered silent
classic that is considered the auteur’s first masterpiece.
The
story takes place in the early 1800s and draws upon a rural family feud like the
Hatfields and McCoys—in this case the McKays and Canfields. When patriarch John
McKay is killed by James Canfield (and vice versa), Mrs. McKay flees with
little baby Willie McKay (played by Buster’s real-life infant son, Buster
Keaton Jr.). Twenty years later, Willie inherits the old family estate in the
south and returns to claim it, only vaguely aware of the feud that has existed
for decades. On the way he meets Virginia (played by Keaton’s wife at the time,
Natalie Talmadge), who happens to be a Canfield. Upon arrival at home, Willie
continues to court Virginia, but her brothers won’t have it. The rest of the
picture is a cats-and-mouse game of Willie avoiding being killed and at the
same time wooing the woman he wants to marry.
There
are many striking aspects about the picture. Keaton’s paid great attention to
detail in the design and location shooting. Apparently, he took great pains to
create realistic locomotives and tracks that depicted early train development
in America (although he played with time period accuracy for the sake of more
interesting visuals). The final act contains some spectacular and hair-raising
stunt work by the star, including an incident of falling into rapids and almost
drowning on camera. Mostly, though, the story is well-constructed, the
characters have more depth than in the other silent comedies of the day, and,
in the end, Our Hospitality is one of Keaton’s most satisfying movies.
Interestingly,
it’s the only Keaton film to feature three generations of Keatons—Buster
himself, his previously-mentioned son, and his father, Joe Keaton, as a train
engineer.
Kino
Classics presents a beautiful grey and sepia-toned 1920x1080p restoration with
a 2.0 stereo soundtrack and a score composed and conducted by Robert Israel. A
fascinating audio commentary by film historians Farran Smith Nehme and Imogen
Sara Smith accompanies the feature. Supplements include a rare 1947 short, Un
duel à mort (A Duel to the Death) starring Keaton; The
Iron Mule, a short from 1925 that Keaton produced (uncredited) and features
some of his locomotive creations; a featurette on the background of Our
Hospitality with Serge Bromberg; and an excellent featurette on the scoring
of the film, narrated by Robert Israel. The booklet contains an essay by
Jeffrey Vance.
Our
Hospitality
is yet another superb release from Kino Classics, a highlight in the fabulous
filmography of the inimitable Buster Keaton.
CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM AMAZON
“THE
FIRST OF THE THINSâ€
By
Raymond Benson
The
Thin Man,
the film released in 1934 and based on Dashiell Hammett’s 1933 novel, was so massively
popular that it spawned a series of five more pictures, a radio series, a television
series, a remake, a stage play, and a stage musical. It’s arguably the best
of the “Thins†in that it was fresh, original, and featured a unique, comic,
almost screwball approach to the main characters of Nick and Nora Charles.
Granted, screwball comedies are, by definition, stories about mismatched
couples, whereas Nick and Nora are so perfectly suitable for each other that
they can finish each other’s lines, take turns playing straight man while the
other quips, and can compete together in the consumption of alcohol (and not a
scene goes by without drinks in the hands of our protagonists).
One
couldn’t ask for better casting. William Powell and Myrna Loy embodied their
roles so perfectly that they were forever identified with them, despite having separately
made dozens of other types of pictures. Their witty banter, their palpable
affection for each other, their intelligence, and their evident chemistry made
the film and its sequels successes.
The
picture has a terrific supporting cast as well. Maureen O’Sullivan is the
harried daughter of the titular character (no, “the Thin Man†is not Nick
Charles, although public perception has always seemed to mistakenly connect the
series title to Powell’s role), and she is suitably emotional and fraught.
Minna Gombell, as her mother, from the get-go is hilariously guilty of something.
Porter Hall, a longtime character actor, is amiable and perfect as the Thin
Man’s attorney, and Nat Pendleton as the police lieutenant in charge of the
case is the tough/dumb guy personified. Even Cesar Romero shows up as one of
the suspects.
The
case in question is a missing persons mystery in which a renowned scientist
(Dr. Wynant, who is tall and thin) hasn’t returned from an alleged extended
business trip, but then his secretary (and, for a time, it is implied, his
mistress while he was married to his ex) is murdered—and then a witness to the
murder is killed. Like many crime stories of the era, the details can be
complicated, but the filmmaking briskly sails over them such that the audience
doesn’t have time to think about it or question what is happening. Hence, there
are holes in the plot—but who cares? It’s too much fun. Best to get a couple of
martinis—or six—and enjoy them as Nick and Nora put together the clues and
finally solve the case at a classic dinner party sequence at which all the
suspects have gathered.
Oh,
and don’t forget that scene stealer fox terrier, Asta, who accompanies Nick and
Nora wherever they go, even in restaurants that don’t allow dogs.
The
Warner Archive’s high definition transfer is a vast improvement over Warner’s
previous DVD release—it merits the upgrade. Supplements include the season two
premiere of the 1957-59 television series that starred Peter Lawford as Nick
and Phyllis Kirk as Nora (yes, this thing was on the air for two seasons!), and
it’s… okay… but it’s worth a look for curiosity’s sake. Additional extras are the
1936 Lux Radio Theater audio broadcast starring Powell and Loy, and the
theatrical trailer.
The
Thin Man received
Oscar nominations for Best Picture, Best Actor (Powell), Best Director (W. S.
Van Dyke), and Writing/Adaptation (by the husband and wife team of Frances
Goodrich and Albert Hackett), but it didn’t take home the gold in any category.
Nevertheless, the new Blu-ray release of the motion picture is indeed a winner.
CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM THE CINEMA RETRO MOVIE STORE
“LON
CHANEY LIVESâ€
By
Raymond Benson
One
might not expect James Cagney to become the Phantom of the Opera or the Hunchback
of Notre Dame, but he did, and it’s… convincing enough. Cagney, of course, is
playing the great Lon Chaney, i.e., Lon Chaney Sr., the silent film star
who created the iconic make-up imagery for those two characters that is still
emblazoned in our collective consciousness.
Man
of a Thousand Faces,
released in 1957, is a good biopic about Chaney, and it benefits greatly from
Cagney’s presence. The picture begins with Chaney’s early work in vaudeville,
where he meets his wife Cleva (Dorothy Malone). That relationship will prove to
be a turbulent and tragic one. Much of the biopic focuses on the melodrama that
existed in the couple’s relationship, and only later does Chaney, as an
afterthought, fall into the motion picture business. Then we see his phenomenal
rise to fame and success with a series of ingenious make-up transformations
that caused Americans to tell the old joke: “Look a bug!†“Careful, don’t step
on it! It might be Lon Chaney!â€
Suffice
it to say that Cagney’s star power elevates the picture. It’s a role he took on
late in his career, and he throws a great deal of energy and intelligence into
it. The conversions into the various monsters and unusual beings that Chaney
played were done mostly with masks instead of the original meticulously applied
make-up (which was often painful to wear), but enough of the actor shines
through to present a dynamic performance.
Dorothy
Malone as the long-suffering wife, and mother of Lon Chaney Jr. (who started
out as Creighton Chaney), is also winning, and Jane Greer as second wife Hazel embodies
a very different persona from what we know of her in the excellent film noir, Out
of the Past. Cagney’s sister Jeanne plays Lon’s sister, Carrie, and an
assortment of familiar Hollywood faces fill out other roles—Jim Backus, Jack
Albertson, and even Robert Evans as Irving Thalberg (!).
Arrow
Academy has been doing excellent high definition releases and have
easily established themselves as a serious competitor to the likes of The
Criterion Collection and Kino Lorber. The feature is a new 1080p restoration from
the original negative with an uncompressed Mono 1.0 PCM audio soundtrack. There
are optional English subtitles and an audio commentary by the always reliable
Tim Lucas. Supplements include a featurette, “The Man Behind a Thousand Faces,â€
with critic Kim Newman; an image gallery; and the original trailer. The package
has one of Arrow’s signature reversible sleeves with new artwork by Graham
Humphreys backed with the original theatrical poster image. The slick
illustrated booklet contains an essay by Vic Pratt.
All
in all, Arrow has produced a classy presentation, a worthy tribute to both
James Cagney and the inimitable Lon Chaney.
CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM AMAZON
“GENIUS
AT LARGEâ€
By
Raymond Benson
Apparently,
the classic silent features of Buster Keaton are now in public domain, which
explains why more than one DVD/Blu-ray company can do individual restorations
and put them out for consumer consumption. For example, both Kino Video and
Cohen Film Collection have released “new restoration†Blu-ray packages of
Keaton’s films. Cohen sent Cinema Retro some review copies of theirs, so
this review reflects this group’s presentations of these wonderful films that
showcase a genius at large.
In
all three volumes, the titles underwent 4K restorations and look marvelous,
with audio options of 5.1 DTS-HD Master Audio and 5.1 Dolby Digital. The
packaging on Volumes 2 and 3 indicate that the restorations were done by
Cineteca di Bologna at L’Immagine Ritrovata Laboratory in association with
Cohen Film Collection—one can assume that Volume 1 is the same.
VOLUME
1 contains The General (1926) and Steamboat Bill, Jr. (1928), two
of Keaton’s most celebrated works. Note that The General’s release date
is often cited as 1927, when it was actually released in the U.S. Technically,
though, its premiere was in Japan (!), of all places, in December 1926.
IMDb designates the film’s release as 1926, while many American publications
will say 1927.
The
General (directed
by Keaton and Clyde Bruckman), despite featuring a Civil War-era story in which
the Confederates are the “good guys,†is an unequivocal comic masterpiece,
often named Keaton’s best picture. Keaton is a train engineer named Johnnie,
who is in love with Annabelle (Marion Mack) and a locomotive called the
General. Much of the tale involves Johnnie hustling to get his locomotive back,
as it has been snatched by the Union. Full of action and inventive comedy bits,
The General might be Keaton’s most technically ambitious picture, and
certainly his most expensive ($750,000, which was a huge sum back then).
Surprisingly, the film was not a hit at the time of release, and it set back
Keaton’s stock in the industry. It was only after years of film buff analysis
that The General was rediscovered and awarded the reputation it holds
today.
Steamboat
Bill, Jr.
(directed by Charles Reisner) contains many of the fabulous stunts for which
Keaton is known, such as when a house facade falls over and barely misses him
since he was standing precisely where an open window was positioned. Keaton is
William Canfield Jr., and his father “Steamboat Bill,†owns a luxury steamboat
that is in competition with Jr.’s girlfriend’s father’s ship. The movie is a
game of one-upmanship between the rivals, with the usual mis-matched romance
and action hijinks. Some may consider this sacrilege, but I prefer Steamboat
Bill, Jr. over The General!
Both
films feature orchestral scores by Carl Davis. Supplements are two shorts
seemingly excerpted from Peter Bogdanovich’s 2018 documentary, The Great
Buster—“Reflections on The General†and “Buster Keaton: The
Luminaryâ€, plus trailers for both films. Oddly, the illustrated inner booklet
contains the credits for Steamboat Bill, Jr. but leaves out The
General.
(CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM AMAZON)
Continue reading "REVIEW: "THE BUSTER KEATON COLLECTION" VOLUMES 1, 2 & 3; COHEN FILM COLLECTION BLU-RAY SPECIAL EDITIONS"
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