The Swimmer (1968)

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The Swimmer is a dreamy and sinister-edged existential voyage through late-60s suburbia. A pretty remarkable movie for it’s time and not just because Burt Lancaster’s entire wardrobe for 95 minutes is a sole pair of swimming trunks. John Cheever, the author of the short story behind The Swimmer, was a huge influence on Mad Men and if you squint hard enough you can see an alternate reality in which Don Draper donned shorts and became Lancaster’s Ned Merrill. The difference being that this movie was actually made in 1966 (but released two years later). Lancaster is incredible and the film is close to scoring full marks. A few dodgy stylistic flourishes (apparently tagged on by Sydney Pollack) break the aesthetic illusion now and again but the scenes soon recover. This movie feels mega-obscure now and is even more beautiful because of it’s cult status. What the hell did audiences make of this back in the day? It’s brilliant but as a cracked mirror being held up to reality, the reflection staring back is almost too vivid and disturbing. It’s like a stick of dynamite being thrown into the pool of bullshit. A movie that sticks in your head for days.

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Play Misty for Me (1971)

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Eastwood’s directorial debut! A fucking cool thriller that sees Eastwood play a jazz DJ who gets targeted by a psychotic Jessica Walter after he gives her the cold shoulder following a one-night-stand. Watching Play Misty for Me makes you wonder why the hell they bothered making Fatal Attraction years later. It’s the same movie! This one is better.

Eastwood’s direction is as unfussy as you would expect. Though, like all first-time filmmakers, he can’t help but indulge in some zippy editing and montage sequences. Not to say this is a negative, in fact it’s fun to see Clint loosen up on the reigns a bit. I admire that Eastwood made something unexpected for his debut. He essentially plays the helpless victim here, giving Walter the real showy role. It’s the first time I’ve seen her not be Lucille Bluth and goddamn, what a revelation. The film has serious teeth and when Evelyn (Walter) lashes out the shards are really felt. I always like the way blood looked in 70s movies. It’s more like red paint. Totally unrealistic but pleasing aesthetically. Lots of it gets splashed on the walls in Play Misty, I’ll tell you that much.

I’ve been wanting to see this flick for years and it really delivered the goods. It’s characteristic of Eastwood’s style but shows it in the earliest, crudest form. You can feel Clint figuring things out behind the camera and the film is all the stronger because of that restless edge. You’ll never be able to hear “Misty” in the same way again.

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Melancholia (2011)

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Women cry. Men are douchebags. The world ends. Just another day in Lars von Trier-ville.

Undoubtedly one of my biggest cinematic heroes, I will blindly follow von Trier wherever he ventures yet no matter how many times I see Melancholia I just can’t seem to fall in love with it. It feels too much like familiar territory. If you watch Breaking the Waves, Dogville, Antichrist and this movie in quick succession, it is the only one that doesn’t seem to throw things forward. I get that it is part of a bigger thematic trilogy in the same way Manderlay is but I just wish it did more for me.

It’s no slouch, though. The performances are FAN-TAS-TIQUE. Dunst’s leg-swinging angel of death aura in the second half never fails to seduce me. Gainsbourg gets to show more heart than she was permitted in Antichrist and even the secondary performances from leftfield casting (Keifer Sutherland? Why not!) are surprising. I like the simplicity of the structure too. It’s kind of like Lars doing Festen in part one and then some other thing in part two. I can dig it. I like the stylistic progression from Antichrist and top-class artistry but for one reason or another, I just never get lost in this one like I do so many other von Trier jams.

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Charade (1963)

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“I’m beginning to think women make the best spies!”

What a blast. Charade is often billed as the best Hitchcock movie the master of suspense never made but that is to do a disservice to the great Stanley Donen. This is only the second Donen movie I’ve seen yet his influence appears to be everywhere with a certain generation of filmmakers. The fact this movie has such a spring in it’s step should come as no surprise from the man who gave us Singin’ In the Rain!

This is a real jazzy thriller that also boasts more genuine laugh-out-loud moments than most comedies. The colours are kaleidoscopic and the energy is endless. You daren’t even blink while watching this movie in fear that you might miss something great. The interplay between Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn is so infectious. Every scene seems to have some kind of unexpected flourish that keeps it fresh and surprising; a character clipping his nails at a funeral, another using lit matches as a threatening weapon – it’s so vibrant and enjoyable and the beats just keep on coming. The epitome of 60s Euro-cool and the very definition of old-fashioned entertainment.

Plus that Mancini score belongs in any decent record collection.

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Hitch-Hike (1977)

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What happens when you put Krug Stillo, the original Django and a Bond girl in a car together? Hitch Hike that’s what! This barmy thriller has all the trappings of any 70s grindhouse movie but the nutball performances are lots of fun. The interplay between Hess and Nero never gets old, both are bastards to varying degrees and a pre-Moonraker Corinne Clery certainly holds her own as the scantily clad female stuck between them. She’s never looked at by Nero and Hess as much more than a piece of ass that needs conquering but the movie treats her with a bit (like a teaspoon) more respect. I enjoyed the way she played the two assholes against each other and really, this is her story of survival not theirs. There’s also a semi-iconic moment where Clery emerges from a caravan fully naked wielding a rifle. It’s hella gratuitous but I’ll be damned if I didn’t see it as a celebration of badass womanhood. Hitch Hike would make a great double feature with Mario Bava’s Rabid Dogs. Both are car-bound pressure cooker thrillers with lots of rug-pulls. This is undoubtedly the lesser movie but there’s enough going on for it to stick in the brain like a gutterball. Morricone did the score too. So there’s that.

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Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country (1991)

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Nicholas Meyer returns to save the Star Trek franchise for the second time. After the depressingly generic Final Frontier I found The Undiscovered Country to be a thrilling return to form. This one shares heady themes and Shakespearean overtones with The Wrath of Khan and lacks the lighter touch of the previous two installments. Yet again the question of age comes into play (remember four movies ago when Kirk and Bones were talking about being old? Yeah nearly a decade has elapsed since then…) but Shatner avoids letting Kirk be a parody of himself. All in all this is just a great yarn with swiss-watch plotting. The Trek films always seem to work best when they are treated like extended episodes and unfold in a contained period of time. Meyer understands this and he ensures the original generation go out on a real high. As corny as it is, that Peter Pan quote at the end beamed a lump right into my throat. Loved it.

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In the Line of Fire (1993)

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Watching In the Line of Fire in 2016 had me thinking what acclaimed thrillers of today will hold up in twenty years. This movie was critically acclaimed and even received multiple Oscar noms but now feels incredibly dated and hampered by 90s filmmaking tropes. Everything looks so flat and artificial and Morricone’s score is far from his best. The only thing holding it up are the performances. Eastwood is clearly having fun with the “Mean Old Man” persona he indulged in heavily from the 90s onwards and Malkovich does the classic Malkovich thing as the nutball assassin. Maybe his performance was more revelatory in ’93 (he got an Oscar nom) but today it feels rather characteristic which isn’t to take away from how entertaining it is. One thing I do love about the 90s is that it gave us a lot of Rene Russo. She looks fabulous here and holds her own against everyone on screen even if I didn’t for a second buy her romance with Eastwood. But this is ’93 where a strong woman had to absolutely positively double up as a vulnerable love interest. Ugh. But yeah, the film is alright though thank God the political thriller has come a long way since this was released.

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Irreversible (2002)

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I haven’t seen Irreversible in close to a decade yet it still managed to be even more of a punishing experience upon rewatch. Noe’s helter skelter camerawork might be the most nauseating in film history and when all is said and done you can’t help but feel violated and abused both mentally and physically. This is a true assault on the senses. Bangalter’s score slaughters and scrapes your eardrums while Deboit and Noe’s visuals spiral out of control. Admittedly the first half is dizzying while the second slows to a more tranquil state which is where the reverse structure comes in handy. If the film unfolded chronologically it would have come close to being unbearable but inverted it is exhilarating.

Bellucci’s beauty is used to devastating effect here and the bravery she showcases in this performance is extraordinary. What she endures is about as pure a showcase of feminine strength and durability as I’ve ever seen. The notorious rape scene is probably among the most sickening sequences ever filmed (wow there’s a lot of hyperbole in this review) but I never felt it was being provocative for the sake of it. It fucking breaks you down something fierce.

As a big fan of visceral, subjective cinema it’s no surprise that I’m a fan of Irreversible but it’s impossible to actually enjoy. Some will find the sensory abuse thrilling while others with see it as repugnant. Either way, at least it’s an experience.

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Deep Red (1975)

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I love what Deep Red represents in Argento’s filmography. After shooting three gialli practically back-to-back he tried to branch out into new territory with The Five Days of Milan but a box-office and critical battering sent the filmmaker back with his tail between his legs. Instead of throwing in the towel, however, Argento observed the slew of imitators who had emerged in his absence and decided to show them all how it was done. The result, of-course, is Profondo Rosso (Deep Red benefits from having a great title in both English and Italian) which may just be the quintessential giallo. Argento’s filmmaking is so great here. He owns every set piece and the addition of a Goblin score ensures the film doesn’t sound like anything that came before it. This is when Argento was completely in sync with his material, ambitions and his audience and snugly bridges the gap between his realist thrillers from the early seventies and his nightmare fantasias kicked off by Suspiria. Those two films showcase Argento kicking ass and taking names. I’m now ecstatic to report that Deep Red is every bit as good the second time around.

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Aaaaaaaah! (2015)

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Fucking weird. I either loved this film or hated it and I still can’t decide which. On the plus side: I’ve never seen anything like it. I like the commitment to the idea. The actors. It has serious edge and isn’t afraid to use it for crude and violent reasons. On the down side: the film looks cheap. The production design doesn’t seem to extend beyond what is immediately in front of the lens. Background performers (unaware pedestrians?) don’t seem to be inhabiting the same universe as the main characters and it hurts the illusion quite a bit. Plus the backstory doesn’t appear to extend far beyond what the film drops in on. Surely everyone’s houses would be destroyed to shit long before the events of this movie? Maybe I’m missing something. Are we to take it that the primal nature of these characters has come across suddenly or is it something inherent to the universe since time began? I’m not sure. I’m not sure about a lot of Aaaaaaaah!. It’s an annoying film in that regard. The appeal wears off after about forty minutes as you begin to wonder what the point is but the film remains captivating. I never felt like I wanted to turn it off. Then again I was happy once it finished. A film so divisive I can’t even decide on my own opinion. In short: see it.

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