The Long Dark Marathon of the Soul 2022: Solaris (1972), directed by Andrei Tarkovsky

 

The Trailer

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The Appropriate Tune: 'Do You Love Me?' by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

       We saw Svankmajer, so how about another blast from the past? The last time we saw Andrei Tarkovsky on this list was with his 1979 film Stalker, way back in Marathon ‘16. Stalker was not only one of the best movies I watched that year, it was one of the best movies I’ve seen period, so much so that I think subconsciously avoided doing another of his films for fear that it was a one-time burst of genius and that I would be disappointed. A potent combination of paranoia and pretension, not fit for an unpaid amaetur film review blogger of my station. So let’s return to Tarkovsky, and a film so acclaimed that Hollywood tried to adapt it into a George Clooney vehicle, truly the highest honor one can bestow upon a film. Besides making it a background cameo for Space Jam 2 that is.

       Released in 1972, Solaris was directed by Andrei Tarkovsky, written by Tarkovsky and Fridikh Gorenshtein, and produced by Vyacheslav Tarasov through Mosfilm, based on the novel of the same name by Stanislaw Lem. Donatas Banionis stars as Dr. Kris Kelvin, a psychologist who agrees to undertake a visit to the space station orbiting the planet Solaris, a world of vast oceans and dense fog. Solaris has been something of a black eye for the scientific community over the years; Some have claimed that Solaris is an intelligent, thinking being, but no one has managed to prove it and the project is on its last legs, the station now housing only three scientists from the dozens that once resided in it before, with reports bordering on nonsense. Kelvin’s word could be the make or break moment.

       When Kelvin arrives at the satellite however, he finds a station in disrepair and one of the scientists dead, suicide. The cause? Solaris, in a fashion. It seems that after an experiment using x-rays Solaris suddenly began to react, and the results were ‘the guests’ -- thoughts and memories pulled from the dreams of the scientists and given form. Not hallucinations, but beings with a tangible, physical form. A revelation that throws Kelvin through a loop, especially after he comes face to face with Hari (Natalya Bondarchuk), his wife that had been dead for the past 10 years. Is this a happy reunion, or another tragedy waiting to happen?

       Before watching Solaris I saw a comment that said something to the effect of ‘Tarkovsky looks up at the stars and sees humanity longing for connection’, and there's definitely something to that. Or rather a longing in the face of failure. Mankind tries to connect with Solaris, which leads to the experiments which spawn ‘the guests’. Kelvin longs to reconnect with his wife which leads to Solaris spawning ‘Hari’, a simulacrum based on his memories of her. And what happens when Hari learns of her nature? Is she still Hari or has she become someone else entirely? Is this love, or just a memory of love? Is there a difference? It seems that Kelvin, and by extension the audience, are doomed to stumble around in the dark in regards to that question. 

       You could also pair this up with Stalker, although they’re not quite the same. Stalker dealt in the loss of faith, while Solaris is more the desire for it. Kelvin wants to give himself over to belief, he wants to be absorbed into the fantasy where his life hasn’t taken a downward turn. Whether or not this is a good thing I suppose is debatable; The final scene gives the impression of a sinister turn, but Tarkovsky spent a better part of two hours questioning what being ‘real’ or ‘human’ actually means, so I suppose it’s up to the viewer’s interpretation. More so than Stalker I’d say, with its definitely uplifting ending.

       Visually Solaris shares the most similarities with 2001: A Space Odyssey, although perhaps unsurprisingly Tarkovsky doesn’t really hit the special effects as hard as Kubrick. Then again Solaris doesn’t really need the flash, as the science fiction is more philosophical than theoretical, and it conveys the feeling of a run down space station just fine as it is. I especially like the way Tarkovsky portrays the planet of Solaris. It’s incredibly simple, a color filter and some fog effects, but it captures the feel of an alien world.

       Solaris gets an easy recommendation. Where other science fiction films of the period could be gleefully esoteric and obscurantist in its messaging, Tarkovsky is clear without being blunt and meditative without being pondering. While it didn’t affect me as strongly as Stalker, I’d read Lem’s Solaris back in college so I knew what to expect to some degree and also Stalker was just that powerful of a movie, Solaris is a fantastic film and a must-have for any aspiring cinephile's watch queue. The acting, the atmosphere, the writing, it’s about as good as you can get. Cuddle up with the alien recreation of your dead loved ones this Halloween and enjoy.

The Long Dark Marathon of the Soul 2019: Conquest of the Planet of the Apes (1972), directed by J. Lee Thompson

The Trailer

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The Appropriate Tune: "I Am An Ape", by David Byrne & St. Vincent

       In 1968, a spaceship captained by Charlton Heston crash landed in a post-apocalyptic wasteland where human beings were as cattle to a race of intelligent, talking apes, a Planet of the Apes if you will. Two years later an astronaut from another conveniently crash landed spaceship went Beneath the Planet of the Apes, as the remnants of man’s civilization engaged in one last confrontation with their simian nemesis. A year later ape scientists Cornelius and Zira managed to Escape from the Planet of the Apes, only to find themselves back in the days when humans still ruled the roost, and who aren’t all that pleased about primate possibilities. Now another year has passed, for the Marathon and the release date of the films, and it’s time to return to our saga with Conquest of the Planet of the Apes. Will it excite like Star Trek II, or disappoint like Star Trek V? Only one way to find out.

       The year is 1991. It’s been 20 years since the events of the previous film, where Cornelius and Zira were murdered by government agents attempting to prevent the ape dominated future, and their child Caesar was secretly taken in by circus owner Armando (Ricardo Montalban). Apes have become society’s new underclass; Originally used as pets after a space-borne virus caused the extinction of all dogs and cats in 1983, they were eventually bred into what has become a race of slaves, used for manual labor by the human populace and kept in line by a fascistic police force. Sheltered by Armando and the circus his entire life, a now adult Caesar (played by Cornelius’ actor Roddy McDowall) bristles at the treatment of his brethren, which turns into outright hatred after Armando and he is forced into becoming a slave himself in order to hide from the authorities. Abuse, humiliation, outright torture, it all serves to mask what the humans cannot or will not accept, that these apes are not just mindless, unthinking brutes. They are smart; Smart enough to know they are being made to suffer and who is making them suffer, and smart enough to know that they aren’t going to take it anymore. Destiny or not, fate or not, the war between ape and man begins today.

       I said in my review of Escape (paraphrased) that it felt like the first part of a much more exciting film, and that’s not the case. Rather it’s more akin to an opening scene, as Armando spends about three minutes at the beginning of this film giving you the cliff notes of the last one, rendering it completely superfluous. That can be forgiven however, as Conquest is indeed the much more exciting film. More action, harder hitting drama, stronger performances, they even made an effort to make things feel a bit like an alternate history 1991, complete with green, non-lethal cigarettes. All this in spite of the fact that Conquest actually had the smallest budget of all the Apes movie up to that point, 1.7 million dollars compared to 2.06 million for Escape (what they spent it on I have no idea). Maybe J. Lee Thompson had something to prove when they gave him the director’s chair.

       To me though, Conquest works because it finally gives context to the franchise. The original Planet of the Apes as well as Beneath relied a lot on the shock value of the concept, a stranger in a strange land, but it never delved too deep into things. Escape touched on it a bit, but it wasn’t until Conquest that we got answers as to how the apes came to be and why they have such animosity towards humans. More than that, as you go through the film and see every instance of beatings, torture and terror the apes are subjected to, only slightly worse than what we put real people through these days, you empathize more and more with their plight. To the point where the climax of the film, where Caesar and the apes clash with the security forces feels like a triumphant moment in spite of the implications it has for the future of the human race in that universe. Suddenly what was once a simplistic ‘man good ape bad’ dichotomy becomes a much more nuanced affair, and what was once a simple sci-fi thriller that runs on twists and sudden reveals is elevated into proper science fiction, a story that is capable of promoting actual discussion. That it took four movies to get us there isn’t the best look in the world, but at least they got there.

       I mentioned strong performances, but to be honest this entire film is buoyed by three actors: Roddy McDowall as Caesar, Don Murray as Governor Breck, and Hari Rhodes as Breck’s assistant MacDonald. Caesar is easily the highlight of McDowall’s tenure with Apes films, not just for the his incredible, sweeping speeches at the tail end of the film but the way he’s mastered the physical art of acting in the makeup, conveying so much emotion solely through his eyes. Don Murray is is positively Nixonian as Governor Breck, chewing through his lines with a manic flair, in a way that teeters on the line between comic and terrifying. Hari Rhodes by comparison is much more down to earth, but then he is that way by design, caught as he is between recognizing the ape’s growing self-determination and protecting the continued existence of the human race. No real female characters of any note, they’ve got a chimp woman in every couple of scenes but she doesn’t talk or really do anything, so I kept forgetting that was meant to be the same character. Not that the lack of women in the credits damns the film necessarily, but it is kind of weird in hindsight. Needed a couple hundred thousand more dollars to fit them in, I suppose.

       Beneath was alright, but Conquest of the Planet of the Apes is probably the first of the series since the original that I would straight up call ‘good’. I’d go so far as to call it a hidden gem, if indeed the fourth entry in a famous film series can ever be considered ‘hidden’. It’s exactly what the Apes movies needed to rev back into gear, and it’s what I needed as someone who has spent the last couple of years of my life watching these movies and pondering my life choices. A hearty recommendation from me, and a potentially nice Halloween night for you if you decide to watch it. Bananas not included.

The Long Dark Marathon of the Soul 2014: Slaughterhouse-Five (1972), directed by George Roy Hill

     The Trailer

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The Appropriate Tune: "Bombers", by Gary Numan

     Kurt Vonnegut was a writer, the only author that I can think, who completely changed my opinion of his work with one book. It wasn’t even one of his more famous books, “Galapagos” to be exact, but suddenly I understood why Vonnegut was considered as highly as he was. “Cat’s Cradle”, “Breakfast of Champions”, “Jailbird”, “Bluebeard”, “God Bless You Mr. Rosewater”, I consumed them all with a rabid intensity. I haven’t done much reading lately, haven’t really done much of anything accept ride through my waves of depression and try not to think about death too much, but Vonnegut stills holds a place as one my revered writers, alongside other such weirdos like Hunter Thompson and William Burroughs.

      Ironically, or perhaps coincidentally, the first Vonnegut novel I ever read (back when I was a young asshole and not an old bastard) was in fact his most famous book “Slaughterhouse-Five”, and I can remember not really caring for it at all. I guess it just didn’t sit click with me at the time, and I kind of put him aside as an author years later. I eventually decided to give the story another shot, but rather than reread the book, I decided to watch the film version instead. The adaptation of a novel into a film is not a flawless process (Catch-22, whose film adaptation came out two years earlier, lost a lot in translation in my opinion), but I based my decision on two points: 1) It was directed by George Roy Hill, who also directed the infamous Butch Cassidy & the Sundance Kid, The World According to Garp, Thoroughly Modern Millie and Slap Shot, and 2) Kurt Vonnegut himself went on record as saying he loved the film. If the author himself thinks the movie got it right, then it has to be good, right? Of course, Stephen King hated Kubrick’s version of “The Shining”, so maybe author approval isn’t the end all factor.

      Listen: Billy Pilgrim has come unstuck in time. At one point he is an old man, with a wife, two children and a dog named Spot. At others he is a child, learning to swim for the first time. Still more he is a young man, an American POW’s imprisoned in Dresden in World War II. Somehow Pilgrim’s view of reality has been separated from the commonly accepted notion of time, causing to relive different points of his life. Others think him insane, but Billy Pilgrim knows the truth. He knows about the Tralfamadorians, and the beautiful woman that awaits him on their planet. You will too, if you watch this movie.

      Slaughterhouse-Five is not a horror film, but it deals with a particularly horrific subject: war, and the effects it can have on the brain, the emotional (and in Billy’s case, literal) disconnection one has with reality. By that train of logic almost all war movies would fall under my criteria, but SH5 is also something of a science-fiction film, a genre which goes hand-in-hand with horror. It won’t leave you quaking in your boots this Halloween, but it might bend your mind a little, and isn’t that what we all want this holiday season?

The Long Dark Marathon of the Soul 2014: The Ruling Class (1972), directed by Peter Medak

 

   The Trailer

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The Appropriate Tune: "Jesus Doesn't Want Me For A Sunbeam", by The Vaselines

     Based on the play of the same name, The Ruling Class is a occasionally musical comedy directed by Peter Medak, who also directed The Men’s Club, Romeo is Bleeding and Species II, oft-regarded as the sequel to the original Species. When people are thinking of films to put on their Halloween film queue, if they’re the type of weirdos who watch movies on Halloween rather than get drunk, the last movie they’d probably think to look for is a satirical comedy about the British aristocracy. Were it with any other similar movie I might have to agree with them, but I think that all in all the list I’ve put together so far works out as Halloween fare, and I think that this movie continues in that vein. Not everything you watch on Halloween has to be a dude stabbing some chick, you know. It certainly helps though.

      When the 13th Earl of Gurney dies under mysterious and embarrassing circumstances (think David Carradine), his immediate family are all too eager to snatch up all the cash and estates they can carry. Before they can stick their grubby hands into the cookie jar however, they learn that Lord Ralph has left all his holdings to his estranged son Jack (Peter O’Toole), who has been living in a local sanitarium for the past couple of years. Jack is a perfectly nice and likable fellow, aside from the fact that he believes that he’s God and he’s very vocal about telling people of his holy nature. Having the 14th Earl of Gurney preaching about universal love and the casting away of possessions is completely antithetical to proper British  behavior, so while his greedy uncle Charles attempts to swindle Jack’s title out from under him, the rest of his family attempts to force him out of his Messiah complex and into acting as a more respectable gentleman. A reasonable scheme, but what happens when madness gives way to more madness? If Jack no longer believes he’s a peaceful and loving God, then what sort of God does that make him? It’s bad omens abound in the Gurney household.

      While I’m a little leery at 2+ hour runtime, The Ruling Class is a fine film with fairly consistent laughs throughout and surprisingly dark themes by the end of it. Peter O’Toole is a phenomenal actor, and I can’t help but enjoy it when he chews the scenery like he’s speedreading Shakespeare. The musical numbers come up at rather odd intervals, which makes me wonder why they’re the film at all, but their random appearances serve to enhance the overall absurd atmosphere. If you’ve got a couple of hours to burn this Halloween, why not consider joining The Ruling Class?

The Long Dark Marathon of the Soul 2017 - Tales From the Crypt (1972), directed by Freddie Francis

The Trailer

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The Appropriate Tune: "On A Rope", by Rocket from the Crypt

     In the vast field that is horror-based anthology television shows, that are a lucky few that can be considered a step above the rest. There’s Rod Serling’s The Twilight Zone, the gold standard, a sublime combination of talent and storytelling that has kept it in the public consciousness in the decades after it came out. For those with tastes more geared towards the speculative, The Outer Limits (both the original and the 90s reboot) provides plenty of chills, and arguably more consistent writing, in a delightful science fiction coating. It was also the first show to feature an adaptation of Harlan Ellison’s story “Soldier”, which James Cameron later ripped off in order to create his own science fiction classic The Terminator. Well, ‘ripped off’ is a little harsh, I don’t know the man after all, more like ‘featured almost entirely the same plot as Ellison’s story and got his ass sued because of it’. He did add Arnold though, so that’s a point for Cameron.

     There are a couple of others that have their moments, The Night Gallery, One Step Beyond, Tales from the Darkside, Ray Bradbury Theater, Channel Zero (I maintain that that first was more Silent Hill than the actual live action Silent Hill), but the only other ‘major’ horror anthology was Tales From the Crypt. First terrorizing HBO subscribers in the year of 1989, Tales From the Crypt was hosted by the ghoulish Crypt-Keeper, a dessicated corpse with a grating, high-pitched laugh, macabre tendencies, and an obsession with puns that bordered on the perverse. Over 7 seasons and several spin offs, the Crypt-Keeper shared many tales from his crypt, packed with popular celebrities in both acting and directing roles (HBO’s gotta spend your money somehow). Although these stories tended not to be particularly complex, many trended towards the classic morality story framework, but their love of gruesome visuals and morbid sense of humor was enough to grab a sizeable chunk of audience and a piece of the pop culture pie. In fact it’s still entertaining, check it out if you have the opportunity.

     Over a decade before we got the Tales from the Crypt tv show we got Tales from the Crypt (also based on the infamous EC Comics title of the same name) by Amicus, who were sort of the B-grade Hammer Films back in the day. In this version, rather than the Crypt-Keeper telling these stories, he has instead gathered a group of people who happened to be taking a tour of some catacombs, of various ages and occupations. Although seemingly unrelated, there is a thread of deceit, greed and yes, even murder, that runs through each of their souls. However, are these cautionary tales, of things that may yet come to pass, or are they something more sinister?

     There are 5 little segments in total; Some of which involve the supernatural, all of which involve murder, and are all based on a story from the Tales From the Crypt comic . There’s a nice little smattering of gore here and there, occasionally some special effects, but it doesn’t get much more visually gruesome than red paint blood and white sausage casing intestines. This was Amicus after all, the Mr. Pibb to Hammer’s Dr. Pepper, they had the spirit but no the budget. “And All Through the Night”, is a fun little Christmas themed murder romp, and proved popular enough to be adapted for the television show. “Reflections of Death” has a fun little twist, although it and “Wish You Were Here”, a literal rehashing of the classic short story “The Monkey’s Paw” seem a little too anemic on content to properly make the transition to the silver screen. Of the five, I’d say that I prefer “Poetic Justice”, in which a kind old man (played by horror legend Peter Cushing) is tormented by his rich neighbors, and “Blind Alley”, where a self-righteous head of a nursing home for the blind ends up on the receiving end of some Jigsaw-esque payback by his charges. Those two in particular I believe feature the biggest assholes and the most satisfying retribution, which hopefully doesn't sound as pornographic to you as it did in my head.

     When you get down to it, that’s what these stories are about: watching assholes be assholes and watching them get killed in violent ways. There’s nothing especially complex about these stories, no deep metaphors to ponder, just the base satisfaction that comes from seeing someone who we feel deserves punishment get punished. Specifically in very gruesome ways, which is exactly what made the original comics so popular and controversial back in the day. Does that mean that Tales From the Crypt is the most faithful comic book movie of all time, even more so than the George Lucas classic Howard the Duck? I think the argument could be made that it is, and it’s even working with five different stories with five different protagonists. What’s your excuse Batman V Superman?

     Those well-versed in the world of horror, and aware of its tendency towards style over substance, will likely find Tales From the Crypt an entertaining if not necessarily astounding film. Newcomers, on the other hand will likely find these little vignettes enjoyable and easily digestible, especially those familiar with The Twilight Zone, but those who are used to the special effects of modern movies will probably find the attempts at gore here primitive to the point of comedy. For the former, check this out if you’re done with Creepshow and Spirits of the Dead and wanted a way to ease into the Amicus filmography. For the latter, keep an open mind and check this out if you were interested in checking out one of the predecessors to VHS. Either way, just remember to treat people nicely and behave yourself. Or else.

The Long Dark Marathon of the Soul 2016 -- Blacula (1972), directed by William Crain

Wouldn't you know it, this is the 100th post on this crappy little blog of mine! Sure, some of those posts aren't what some people would call 'content', but still. A milestone if ever there was one.

The Trailer
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The Appropriate Tune: "I Put A Spell On You", by Screamin' Jay Hawkins

      As I said way back in the Beyond Re-Animator entry, there comes a point in every horror franchise’s life (most pop culture franchises in general really) where the regular old formula just doesn’t seem to cut it anymore, and so the people in charge decide to try out something new. Occasionally it devolves into self-parody, as was the case for Beyond, but sometimes it’s just a matter of tweaking the settings and characters a bit to produce new & interesting content. Take for example the Hammer Horror classic Doctor Jekyll and Sister Hyde, where the titular doctor’s experiments transform him from a decent law-abiding man into a sinister seductress. Or the Universal (not quite) classic The Invisible Woman, which aims for a light-hearted comedic tone rather than the chilling, but also slightly goofy horror of The Invisible Man. Or the multiple Sherlock Holmes series where it’s set in the modern day and Watson wants to have sex with Holmes for whatever reason. They’re not all as entertaining or as ‘good’ as the original product, but it is interesting to deconstruct an I.P. every once in awhile, approach it from a new angle, try to view things from a new perspective. Hell, Alan Moore has based his career on it.

     Blacula is also a variation on a familiar theme as you might have guessed, in this case Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Specifically, it is what is known as a blaxploitation film, a short lived genre in the 1970s characterized by its focus on the African-American community, not only in casting but in the topics and social issues that were relevant at the time. Although these films typically weren’t of the highest budget, more than a few of these blaxploitation films have managed to transcend into the collective unconscious of pop culture. Shaft, Superfly, The Mack, Foxy Brown (starring Pam Grier, who would later be nominated for Best Actress in the blaxploitation homage Jackie Brown), Dolomite, and of course the aforementioned Blacula. Yeah, referring to it as exploitation sounds a bit iffy, but in some ways I see the entire genre as a testament to the changes that were taking place in the U.S. at the time, the same with kung-fu movies. I mean, I highly doubt that films predominantly featuring African-Americans or Asians would have gotten much play in American theaters 10 years prior, maybe even 5 years prior, and then suddenly there’s a thriving scene around it; directors, actors, what have you. Suddenly there are a multitude of possibilities where there used to be few, both for the filmmakers and audience, and both finally have the means to explore it. Tales to explore, horizons to broaden, that sort of thing.

     The story of Blacula, in the vein of the horror stories of old, is a very simple one. Way back in the year 1780, in Dracula’s Transylvanian castle, the African prince Mamuwalde (played William Marshall) and his wife is visiting the Count to ask for his support in abolishing the slave trade. Dracula is an avowed asshole however, and his intentions are far less than noble than his guests would have believed. The Princess is entombed alive, where the only future for her is death, whether by starvation or otherwise. The Prince is beaten half to death and then bitten the rest of the way there, cursed by the Count to live an eternal life dedicated to satiating his unholy bloodlust. No longer Prince Mamuwalde, he is now Blacula (not just a name, Dracula’s racist ass self literally renames him Blacula for some dumbass reason), demon of the night.

     Years upon years later, long after the the terror of the Count had been ended by Doctor van Helsing, the coffin containing the dormant prince is discovered in Dracula’s castle by a couple of effeminate interior decorators (not the last swipe at gay people you’ll see in this movie) and is transported to America. It is there that Blacula is finally revived from his slumber and begins the reign of terror he was cursed to do. You know, biting people, consuming their life-blood, transforming them into soulless demons of the night, that sort of thing. A rather humdrum sort of existence, until he happens to spy a lovely young woman named Tina, who just so happens to share a startling resemblance to his long dead wife…

     Murder. Seduction. At least one transforming into a bat scene. Blacula is exactly what you would expect out of a vampire story, with a dash of The Mummy for that reincarnated lovers angle and a copious amount of r&b. Although I don’t know if he really gets many chances to show it, at his best William Marshall is every bit the charismatic monster that Bela Lugosi and Christopher Lee was in their films, even managing to come off as a relatively noble and tragic figure if you ignore the dozen or people he helped to murder. Tina doesn’t really stand out to me, she doesn’t really have a personality beyond ‘wants to bang Blacula’, but I guess you need an attractive woman for the movie to center around, and she certainly manages to do that. The rest of the cast doesn’t really stand out as anything noteworthy to me, aside from the way they can drop epithets towards gay people at the drop of a hat.

     If I were a bigger fan of the old style of horror movies, where’s not a lot of onscreen violence and you’re kind of waiting around for something to happen, then I’d probably would more easily enjoyed this movie. I certainly wouldn’t have been as distracted. However, there’s also not really anything wrong with this movie either. It does exactly what it needs to do to tell a story and manages to carve out its own identity while doing it, and that’s about all I can think to say about it. For those interested in the old-school but in need of a twist, or those looking for something a bit campy and offbeat that’s a step or two above the typical Mystery Science Theater fare, Blacula gets a recommendation from me. For those who aren’t interested in African-Americans, I recommend the Republican Party.

Double Feature: Play It Again, Sam (1972) & Sleeper (1973), directed by Woody Allen

Originally written for the Tricycle Offense

This here is a little thing I’m calling the Thunderbird on Cinema Double Feature, as you might be able to tell from the title, which may show up now from time to time. The premise is, essentially, that I take two film which are connected in some way and write about both of them, in an unprecedented bit of film criticism the likes of which has never been seen before. Rather than try to dig deep and really delve into the core of the film, as real film critics you see, I’ll just be throwing together two small articles I managed to crap out and charging double the price. That’s called economics kids, read a book once in a while.

This first edition of this subfeature concerns a couple films I’ve already seen and written down notes for months ago, which means my impressions will be fresh and perfectly valid. It also deals with a director I haven’t really talked about yet, which I’m sure no one actually wanted to hear. Enjoy.

Play It Again, Sam (1972)

Actor. Writer. Comedian. Director. Playwright. Clarinetist. Although his star has certainly dimmed, it'd be pretty hard for it not to considering, when it comes to American filmmakers there aren’t many that have done so well for so long as one Mr. Woody Allen. Going back all the way to his debut film (What’s New Pussycat?, released in 1965), Woody Allen has been able to sit down at his typewriter and crank out a new movie almost every year since, a grand total of 40+ plus movies under his belt. Although starting off in straight, full-fledged comedies, Allen is likely most well-regarded for his string of films in the 1970s (in particular Annie Hall, which won 4 Academy Awards), which helped to redefine and reestablish the romantic comedy genre, not to mention helping to bolster the careers of both Diane Keaton and Mia Farrow. Whether or not that’s a bad thing is up for you to decide, and whether you think the world needs so many rom coms about a neurotic Jewish man having sex with a woman out of his league is another issue, but you can’t deny the man’s work ethic. He’s worked with science-fiction, film-noir, animation, 19th century Russian prose, murder mysteries, mockumentaries...even if he does repeat himself at least he mixes it up a little sometimes, you know?

Based on the play of the same name, which was also written by Woody Allen, Play It Again, Sam stars Woody Allen as the standard Woody Allen character: A neurotic east-coast Jewish writer who somehow has tremendous luck with women despite looking like a broom with male pattern baldness. In this particular case he plays the role of Allen Felix, a critic obsessed with the 1942 film classic Casablanca to the point that Humphrey Bogart’s character appears to him to give him some hard boiled advice from time to time, like Ben Kenobi from the Bronx. Felix is recently divorced, his wife citing a lack of excitement in their relationship as reason enough for the split, and he’s understandably a little bummed out. His friends, Dick and Linda (played by Allen regular Diane Keaton) decide it would be for the best if Felix got back on the saddle and set him up with a couple of new women and test the waters, to use dissimilar turns of phrase.

However, Dick and Linda’s relationship is far from perfect itself, and as Felix and Linda spend more and more time together, a spark of attraction threatens to grow into the flames of passion. Could Felix, would Felix betray the trust of his friend and step into the world of adultery? Is he even ready for such a commitment, or is his mind still in rebound mode from the departure of his wife Nancy? And where exactly does Casablanca fit into all of this? That’s for you to find out, in case you decide to watch it for yourself.

Woody Allen is a man who loves his romantic comedies, or at least he’s been cursed by a witch to write so many, and going by critical opinion he’s pretty good at it. Since the very idea of romance fills me with deep-seated feelings of shame and regret, I tend not to go much for the rom-coms, but I found myself enjoying Play It Again, Sam. Not so much for the general setup, which has been done in many films before (even the ‘main character obsessed with Casablanca which which eventually helps to show his evolution as character’ thing has been done), but because the romance element feels more or less like a natural buildup. Not so much for Allen’s bizarre rape comments (you’ll know it when you come to it), more so it’s that when Felix and Diane talking with each other it feels like two real people having a conversation. Much like how actual human beings form relationships, or so I’m told. Allen and Keaton have great chemistry together, and if it didn’t seem like Allen was the type of writer that planned out scenes point by point, I’d think that he just improv-ed the whole thing. Which is something I tend to enjoy in films actually, the dissolution of the barrier separating real and directed action. It’d explain my love of Spinal Tap at least.

Aside from some cartoonish Jerry Lewis-style antics which I don’t much care for (don’t ask how I know what a Jerry Lewis-style antic is when I haven’t seen a Jerry Lewis film), and the aforementioned weird ‘women like rape’ line, I found myself enjoying Play It Again, Sam. I haven’t seen enough of his filmography to determine whether this is one of his best movies, but I do think this could make for a great introduction to his other work, either to his early comedic works or his later more dramatic projects. Of course my introduction to Woody Allen was Antz, which might explain why it took me so long to watch another one.

RESULT: RECOMMENDED

Sleeper (1973)

Love him or hate him, the one thing you have to concede about Woody Allen is that the man is one of those tirelessly prolific kinds of writer that always pisses me off. Coming one year after Play It Again, Sam (and Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Sex* (But Were Afraid to Ask), by the by), Allen wrote, acted in and directed Sleeper, his one and only foray in the genre of science fiction. This film was yet another to feature the Woody Allen/Diane Keaton billing by the way, which seems to have been the partnership connected to his better films. Is Sleeper indeed one of those gems of the 70s, as were the likes of Annie Hall and Manhattan, or is it a dud? Does even bringing up the question cast perceptions of doubt on its potential quality or lack thereof? Read on and find out.

In the sci-fi romcom Sleeper, Woody Allen stars as Miles Munroe, a 35 year old clarinet player and former health food restaurateur who is definitely not Allen playing himself as he does in all his films (dude writes what he knows). After being cryogenically frozen back in 1973, Miles is revived 200 years later by renegade scientists in a dystopic utopian future that looks a lot like someone’s backyard in Southern California. It seems that in the subsequent 2 centuries the United States of America has given way to the despotic and dictatorial American Federation, and society has entered into a Huxley-esque state of hedonistic yet sterile complacency. Androids now act as manservants, tobacco and junk food is actually better for you than fruits and vegetables, and people have sex by machines. Not the worst place to end up in, but the brutal tyranny does put a little damper on things.

Miles Munroe is a neurotic, cowardly schlemiel of a man,who happens to be a fugitive now that he’s been unfrozen, so of course he gets roped into the underground resistance movement to discover and stop the Federation’s secretive Aries Project. During his escape he decides to disguise himself as the android servant of Luna (Keaton), the yuppie poet laureate of the future. After abducting Luna (more or less), the two wacky weirdos decide to go on a journey to discover just what that whole Aries Project thing is all about. Which will probably lead to the dissolution of aforementioned despotic and dictatorial American Federation, because this is a light-hearted romantic comedy and not Brazil. Not saying that Sleeper ending with a lobotomized Miles glorifying the Federation ala George Orwell’s 1984 wouldn’t have had its own charms in a lot of ways, but I don’t think twist endings like that are really Allen’s style.

Sleeper is far more a work of comedy than of science-fiction, a Spaceballs or Galaxy Quest rather than a Planet of the Apes or Soylent Green, and any radical ideas about the future and technology takes a back seat to the comedy. Like a bus in Montgomery Alabama in the 1960s, that’s how far back that seat is in this analogy. I imagine the budget for this couldn’t have been too large, but I’ve seen episodes of Star Trek and Doctor Who from this era that had better sense of setting and special effects than what one sees in Sleeper, and if your Hollywood movie has worse special effects than Doctor Who then that’s just fucking embarrassing. You could perhaps explain away by reiterating the point about it being a comedy and that it isn’t necessary, but it still doesn’t keep the film from looking like an Ed Wood original. Dude may have been pumping a movie a year, but if what he is putting out feels half-assed it doesn’t really mean much, does it?

So if sci-fi wasn’t the primary objective, then that means the focus is on the comedy and the romance, but I don’t think Sleeper really excels in those cases either. The goofball comedy is in full-force when compared to PIAS, and it just falls flat for me just as it did then. It’s not that I don’t think Allen is funny, because I do, it’s more that I find him at his funniest when he’s talking and telling jokes and when he tries to be wacky it comes across as someone trying to do Blake Edwards or Mel Brooks (both Allen and Brooks wrote for Your Show of Shows, so there’s that connection). The romance might be even worse, as it seems thrown in because the story needed to have a romance and not because a romance added to the story, which wouldn’t really be much at all if the romantic elements were removed. I didn’t really like Luna or Miles as characters (especially Keaton’s character), and that chemistry that worked out so well in PIAS almost seems nonexistent here. Or rather the actor chemistry is there, but the character chemistry isn’t there. By the end of the movie and you get the heartfelt ending I couldn't bring myself to care whether Luna and Miles reconciled their love or not, because I couldn't bring myself to care about the characters at all. The tagline for the poster does indeed say ‘A Love Story About Two People Who Hate Each Other’, but there’s a long-ass distance between that and 10 Things I Hate About You, if you catch my drift.

Obviously I didn't care for Sleeper all that much, but I wouldn't say I hated it either. It was average I could you say, a C to C+, enjoyable enough to watch at the time. It’s just doesn’t have anything that would make me want to go back, and it’s not a film I would’ve regretted not seeing. If you’re way too into romantic comedies or you’re working your way through Woody Allen then yeah, sure, but if you’re not? Eh, I’d say you’re better off elsewhere.

RESULT: NOT RECOMMENDED