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Town & Country (2001)
One of the worst films ever made
There's a feeling throughout that someone must have been literally crazy to think this was any good. Everyone in it is either stilted, phony, or both. It gives new meaning to the word "strained." NONE of the jokes work, they all just go "KOONK." It's overflowing with stupid, nonsensical subplots. Did they decide at some point - say, around the $70 million mark - to just throw up their hands, start goofing around, and make it deliberately bad? I don't get it. Something this utterly confounding could be a WTF double feature with WAR, INC.
Invocation of My Demon Brother (1969)
Demon Lover Diary
The idea that Anger might be messing with dangerous forces here, and roping the viewer (without asking) into a dark ritual, is cool. The soundtrack is not like anything else I've heard, perfect for trance induction. And who cares what one thinks of Anger's preoccupations (and possible problems)? Just to witness them in such an overt display is fascinating - the murky deep end of confessional art. Ugly, messy. Upsetting. And so refreshing now amid so much commercialism, safety, and p.c. nothingness. Featuring: an albino, a future murderer, drug use, male nudity, cat parts, the U.S. military in Vietnam, Nazi symbolism, and a lineup from the Church of Satan.
Scariest Places on Earth (2000)
Weirdly riveting
Host Linda Blair, in a black Spandex catsuit, strolls through a faux-Giger industrial set making spooky faces and trying to introduce paranormal pieces with an occultic solemnity. Narrator Zelda Rubinstein peppers the stories with melodramatic soundbites in an insistently insinuating tone. Cue Halloween music, and throw in some demonic intimations. Don't forget the grain filters, EMF meters, graveyard lighting and shaky body cams.
There are a lot of good family freak-outs on offer. At Charleville Castle, after enduring innumerable noises, chills, dark passages, doors slamming, "pictures dropping", etc., Susan Ulrich has a complete meltdown and refuses to go on. Ditto Jen Ordonez at Lucedio Monastery - it all ended in tears, and Mom spazzed out at one point as well. I can't count the number of times throughout the series that a story ends with "(So-and-so) refuses to talk about it", as though everyone's permanently psychically scarred. And I laughed out loud when psychic Joyce Morgan told a traumatized girl to go and sit with her husband because "He's a grounding rod." At the Goldfield Hotel, a woman simply walked into an empty room, then walked back out, crying and saying, "That was so bad." Geez.
Not saying that the show is predominantly phony - in fact, I think some of it is probably quite real. But even if it were 100% contrived, I would still like the way it's put together. It has the feel of a dark, gritty 70s exploitation chiller. Also, the dire gravity with which everything is treated is endearing.
September (1987)
You dress like a Polish refugee
The poster might have said, "Six miserable, neurotic people in a summer house." But I like how dry and tired it all is. A lot of soft light, musing, fumbling and mumbling. ("I thought we were gonna go see that new Kurosawa film", etc.) Palpable ineffectiveness; chronic dissatisfaction. And the meanness of the mother is perversely great (to her daughter: "I always thought there was a fatal element of hunger in your last affair.") Despite all the interacting and "relating", they're all kind of in their own little worlds: Howard, the putterer trying to replace his dead wife; Lane, the professional victim who sets her sights on a fickle man; Stephanie, the bored Mom trying to "cut loose" in a confused and half-hearted extramarital fantasy; Diane, the aging narcissist; Lloyd, the codependent enabler; and Peter, the Prufrock Casanova writer dude in the pink polo. At one point during a party, Diane just goes off by herself to play with a Ouija board and drink. Then, even after the fireworks between Lane and Diane, everyone slips back into their roles: Howard fades into his garden; Diane lets Lane keep the house (because it would look too monstrous not to) and heads for the beach; Lane's still miserable because she can't have Peter; Stephanie retreats to suburbia or whatever; Peter's off to New York; and Lloyd just follows Diane around with her luggage, making excuses for her.
This movie has a scary undertow. The two characters that seem the most straightforward and well-intentioned (Lane and Howard) are the ones who get rejected. (Peter doesn't count, I suspect Stephanie might've continued their affair.) Also, at the end when Stephanie assures the suicidal Lane that she's gonna go back to New York and really get her life together, I don't believe anyone bought that - the characters, the actors, Woody Allen, the crew, no one. Then it all wraps up with some elegant shots and Allen's usual tasteful jazz number over the credits. Disturbing.
Raquel (1970)
A mind-ending mess
A friend and I sat down at her house one evening and watched Raquel! She said afterward that she didn't feel too well, that she felt like lying down, and that it was because of the movie (not kidding).
I'd say the following are some of the things that upset her. The out-of-control Age of Aquarius production number, on location in the desert, complete with designer shamanistic regalia. The "Good Golly Miss Molly" Tom Jones lounge medley duet. (Just, why?) The bizarre Bob Hope "Rocky Raccoon" debacle, with its backfiring Mae West impression.
But beyond the shock, emotional confusion, aesthetic trauma, and sheer incomprehension engendered by any individual set-piece, there's the cumulative effect of all these freakish episodes in quick succession. I predict Raquel!'s reputation will rise. It's almost singularly wrong-headed and disorienting - inadvertent art that outpaces a lot of pretentious alternatives.
The Hearse (1980)
Better than Mulholland Dr.
Jane Hardy, a divorcée "recovering" from a mental meltdown, inherits a dark, isolated country house so creepy that most folks would walk in and walk out. The town nearby is populated with gossips, perverts, drunks, misogynists, even an unstable minister who looks like the Angel of Death. To top it all off, a ghostly hearse patrols the area, trying to run Jane off the road. For reasons never made clear, she decides to permanently relocate there.
There is a creepy vibe throughout. The movie is DARK - more than once Jane appears to be "running through blackness." And what lighting there is in the night scenes is grimly effective. The music and atmosphere of the funeral nightmare sequence are particularly unsettling.
For me the film works, not "in spite of" being a mishmash of horror clichés and shock effects, but because of it. Whether the filmmakers intended it, the experience of it is like being caught in a clunky - but still uncanny - haunted-house B-movie loop. Is it all just a manifestation of Jane's breakdown? Or maybe "Jane" is really Aunt Rebecca in a hell realm, imagining herself in a new identity, then getting pulled back into the same Satanic script that got her killed the first time.
Unlike Mulholland Drive, The Hearse has the virtue of being un-self-conscious.