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Self-consciously artsy and needlessly confusing,  Portuguese film director Joao Pedro Rodrigues' "O Fantasma" is, nevertheless, a remarkably assured debut effort chronicling the psychological disintegration of a sexually obsessed young garbage collector living on the squalid fringes of turn-of-the-21st-Century Lisbon. Sergio is a rootless, carnal being, barely verbal, animalistic, and driven by impulses and urges that seem to spring more from instinct than intellect: it's telling that Sergio seems to prefer the company of his dog, whose actions he seems to mimic in his interactions with other humans. The few people Sergio actually does communicate with are co-workers with whom he maintains a tense, fragile bond that always seems to teeter on the edge of violence. When Sergio is on the job, he routinely sifts through other people's garbage, often finding masturbatory tokens (men's underwear, motorcycle gloves, a shiny, latex catsuit) for later gratification. Wh...
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"Another Man's Poison" , director Irving Rapper's 1951 British melodrama features Bette Davis and then-husband, Gary Merrill in the second of three film appearances they made together, the first being "All About Eve", the third "Phone Call From a Stranger". Taken as a trio of siblings, with "Eve"as the brilliant, much-loved high achiever and "Stranger" the smart, slick youngster, "Poison" reinforces the stereotypical (if inaccurate) image of the problematic middle child. To be sure, "Another Man's Poison" has problems aplenty, none the least of which is the scatterbrained screenplay; it's hard to believe both Val Guest and esteemed dramatist Emlyn Williams (who also co-stars in this) had a hand in writing (and re-writing) this nonsense. Based on a play called "Deadlock" by Leslie Sands, the film feels stage-bound and often static, the majority of the action taking place in the main room of a...
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So, it appears that I've been more than a little remiss in keeping up with this blog. I notice my last post occurred more than a year ago. Ye gods, time flies when you're..... Well, never mind. We all know what kind of year 2020 has been, although I really don't have an excuse for being MIA any time before March of this year. I fell down on the job. Let's leave it at that. Thankfully, as of this writing, neither C nor myself have come down with COVID-19, nor have any of our immediate families. While I can't say that all our friends have been so lucky, so far they're managing to hang in there. But, what a cluster fuck this has been! From the government's abject failure to adequately respond to this pandemic to the unspeakable selfishness of some Americans refusing to wear a mask to Trump's hourly assaults on democratic institutions, the news has been bleak. Adding fuel to the fire are the ongoing murders of unarmed civilians by police officers, and the la...
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"It's a strange world, isn't it?" Sandy Williams (Laura Dern) in Blue Velvet . David Lynch's 1986 masterpiece,  Blue Velvet begins innocuously enough: it is a beautiful summer day and two firemen are perched aboard a 50's-style firetruck as it does a slo-mo glide past richly blooming rose bushes and white picket fences. Nearby, a robin bounces jauntily while a middle-aged man hoses down his lawn. And, after the firetruck has passed, we see the middle-aged man grab his neck and collapse to the ground, the water shooting from the hose in arcs as he writhes in the grass. A toddler strolls into the frame as Angelo Badalamenti's lush score wells up, and this intrigue suggests that all will not be well from this moment on.  Until now, the beatific street looks like Anytown USA: the peace and serenity are idyllic. But it's a town called Lumberton, located somewhere in the same twilight zone as Twin Peaks, towns where most of the decades of 20 th Cent...
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Recent Movie Sightings 1: Aladdin, Godzilla King Of the Monsters, Portrait In Black For someone who claims to be a movie buff, it seems inconceivable that I haven't darkened the doors of a motion picture palace since last September. I'm not sure what happened—the last film we'd seen (something with Blake Lively and Anna Kendrick) had been enjoyable enough, if instantly forgettable—but the combined pleasures of Netflix, Amazon Prime, YouTube and PBS, along with my addiction to purchasing blu-rays from Amazon, effectively stalled any efforts we may have made towards actually going out to see a movie these past months. Then, last week, C noticed that Aladdin was opening. I'd seen the animated Disney version numerous times, and later, C and I saw the stage musical on Broadway. Honestly, I thoroughly enjoyed both versions but why on earth was Disney resurrecting yet another of its most venerated animated efforts as a live-action movie? Well, we all know why—as long a...
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The 10:42 To West Palm (Part 2) It was with a sense of relief that we piled out of the Uber vehicle upon our arrival at the Norton.  Expecting to enter a chill cocoon of frosty air when the Hyundai Tucson arrived at the corner to pick us up, we instead found ourselves descending into the seventh circle of hell. It was 91 degrees outside, and still cooler than the interior of that car. I own a Tucson so I know that the a/c in these vehicles works remarkably well, especially since mine continuously runs at absolute zero. And yet, here she was, a young woman swathed in heavy sweater and jeans, apparently heralding the onset of nuclear winter, or some other frigid calamity, while the Tucson's dashboard issued lukewarm gasps of the kind usually reserved for priests delivering last rites. I am not a religious man but I remember thinking please God, let this 0.4 mile journey be brief . But, as usual, God was in an ill-humor this day. Per the instructions of the virtual a...