10 + 10

Although technically the date was yesterday, it was ten years ago this Sunday when the 10th Anniversary Issue of ESR debuted at Toronto's Word on the Street. To commemorate the occasion, we brought cake to give free to all patrons who bought the new issue, while it lasted. It was a gorgeous day, and it was so great to reconnect with many old friends. After this issue made its debut, I received a lot of emotional support, and some very nice letters, which encouraged me to continue in the small press world. I shall be eternally grateful for the love and kudos we received in those ten years, and especially on this day. 

In hindsight, no one really knew it was the beginning of the end. It is weird to think how quickly the so-called "small press" scene changed after that Fall 2011 season. The Toronto Small Press Fair would have its last gasp that winter, with really underwhelming attendance (not helped by lack of advertising, and plopping it in the middle of snowbanks), which seemed to presage what followed. But still, we were oblivious to this at the time. As far as we were concerned, based on the overwhelming response we got on that beautiful Sunday and beyond, ESR was still worth doing. The Fall 2012 release of our 25th (and to date, last) issue was a financial disaster. After some lacklustre tour dates, I quietly decided to retire, letting this enterprise end (to paraphrase T.S. Eliot) not with a bang but a whimper. Indeed, a lot of fellow small pressers that I knew and looked forward to seeing every fall had similarly vanished within that year, as the scene either got younger, or more corporatized, depending on which venue you attended.

While I was preparing the tenth anniversary issue, I was secretly considering it to be its last. I made no mention of it even in my editorial. This decision was not borne out of dissatisfaction, but rather my ambition to get into longer formats. In hindsight, I should've ended it on a crescendo. Lest I be accused of being a "glass half empty" guy (although I'd prefer to call it "realistic"), I will end this post on a hopeful note. 

After ten years of false starts, personal and professional calamities (to say nothing of our current situation), it is nearing the time for ESR to rise again. Yes, the website's official launch date keeps getting pushed back, as my time is now spent more on finding work, but rest assured that it will happen some time this fall, still in keeping with our 20th anniversary. If dishing out the cake ten years ago signalled the beginning of the end, then let the tenth anniversary of that presage a new beginning.

Farewell to Grindhouse Purgatory?

It comes with a heavy heart to announce that the twentieth issue of Grindhouse Purgatory, published by Pete Chiarella, will be its last... for now, anyway.

I first became aware of Pete back in the 2010s, when he still hosted a program on Jackalope Radio, using his alias of 42nd Street Pete. He would regale his listeners with tales of the wild and crazy films he had seen at the notorious New York City grindhouses back in their heyday. He is a veritable authority on the films, but he also established ties with many people who made them, having done business with them over the years in the convention circuit, for example. His show's guests included such luminaries from the grindhouse days as Herschell Gordon Lewis, Ted V. Mikels, Tura Satana, Gary Kent, John "Bud" Cardos, and Sid Haig, to name only a few.

After that show wrapped, Pete had taken part in the mid-2010s renaissance of film zine publishing, with Grindhouse Purgatory. As per its namesake, it offers articles and reviews of genre films (and their makers) from the Golden Age of drive-ins and grindhouses. He also self-published an autobiography, entitled A Whole Bag of Crazy, with wild stories of his life in the Deuce and beyond. What is more, he created a YouTube channel, where he shares more movie reviews and reminisces. (I haven't even mentioned his DVD line, with the 42nd St. Pete byline, which released vintage adult fare.)

For all that, what I most admire about Pete is his honesty. He shoots from the hip, and takes no bullshit from anyone. On the radio, and in print, he has pointed to a lot of hypocrisy that exists in fandom. Additionally, he accents the word con in conventions, as their promoters are often overpriced entities that rip off a lot of the fans that they couldn't care less about. While this scene should be about sharing, much of it is venal oneupmanship. To be certain, this viewpoint has ruffled some feathers, but I greatly applaud him for telling it like it is.

His radio show, and by extension, his publications, are of inestimable historical value, as many of these filmmakers have since passed away, and their stories will continue to live in these media. Which is why, I hope this will be a temporary decision. Chiefly, as alluded to on a recent YouTube video, his choice to end the run of Grindhouse Purgatory with his latest issue, that you can purchase here, was financial. (Not least, because a lot of his sales came through Amazon, he didn't want to fund any more of Jeff Bezos' space trips.) Pete was never in this for the money- as long as he kept breaking even on this venture, and that he was still getting support for it, he would continue publishing- however, he had lost money on the past few issues. Further, on his YouTube video, he had lamented that few people who had read the magazine had bothered to post any online reviews to increase its word of mouth. (Guilty as charged, but to be fair, I'm only now beginning to write full-time again after a nine-year hiatus.) Still, he had left the door open for a possible comeback. After discovering his work ten years ago, I can say that above all, Pete is a survivor, and the great grindhouse can rise again.

Cinéma de minuit

This past week, I've been watching Bertrand Tavernier's marvellous eight-hour documentary, Journeys Through French Cinema, usually one episode a day with my morning coffee and Tim Horton's cereal. (An in-depth review of this film will follow in the near future.) I love movies about movies, which offer new worlds of cinema history that I still need to explore in depth. A film like this proves that you never stop learning. Case in point- in one of his addresses to the camera, M. Tavernier (who passed away earlier this year) mentioned a (new to me) French television program entitled Cinéma de minuit, hosted by Patrick Brion.

To be sure, it has showcased a lot of acknowledged cinematic classics (not just from France but from abroad), yet this show has also brought a lot of underseen, lesser-appreciated films back into public conscience, which therefore allowed for Tavernier and other film enthusiasts to re-evaluate the works of artists who may not necessarily be household names, including some of the lesser-appreciated French filmmakers that appear in this documentary. As of this writing, the show has entered its 45th season (!!) and is still hosted by M. Brion.

Patrick Brion is also an author of numerous film books, including works on Richard Brooks and Clint Eastwood. In commemoration of Cinéma de minuit's 40th anniversary, he published this mammoth book, seen above, which details over 2000 films seen on the program. I haven't been able to "preview" any of the text, but I imagine it also contains a wealth of information on the very under-appreciated films that Tavernier likewise champions in his documentary. A new door is opened. It's on Amazon for about 80 bucks used. I'm tempted, but I'll have to sell some more copies of Grit first. 

If I Had To Do It Over...

Hi team! The blog has been dormant for a while, but rest assured the ESR universe has been quite busy. Our spare time is being spent in updating the website. Its official release date has been pushed back several times, either due to other commitments, or simply because as I go along, I say "Wait- let's add this as well!" Which is why, for the moment, we're looking at a tentative launch around Labour Day weekend. All told, there will be roughly 300 separate pages for individual film reviews and articles. Many are gleaned and updated from Volume One of our old print run, and there will also be a few dozen new pieces never before seen. All in all, it is shaping to be an exciting creative venture, and I for one can't wait to share it with the rest of the cyberverse. 

This fall will also mark ESR's 20th Anniversary. Because the pandemic continues to discourage any plans for literary fairs and festivals, sadly it won't appear likely for us to be touting a new print issue at any events this year. However, the re-launching of our website, which will produce a greater web presence than ever before, will seem like a fine substitute. And rest assured, once our site is up and running, new content will continue to added to the site, and yes, plans for a "new" print run will be put into motion. 

Anyway, as I've been going through the archives in preparation for the site, I've been given to much reflection. Chiefly, I've asked myself what I would do differently with the old print run (circa 2001 to 2012) if I could go back and start all over again. I'm strictly talking in creative terms, not what I'd do differently in sales and promotion (which is a different animal altogether). At a cursory glance of the 25 issues, I'd say that there were too many that devoted themselves to one theme. This is not to say that I'm unhappy with the content of those issues, as they've allowed for fuller explorations of various movements or genres such as film noir, educational films, 70s cinema, drive-in movies, etc. 

Each issue would still have columns devoted to midnight, foreign, Canadian and experimental cinema, as was planned at the outset. Additionally, each would have a midsection devoted to recent DVD releases. Since ESR was publishing during the boom of the DVD revolution, there could have been so much more during those years we could have covered. Many issues featured book reviews, but I'd also ensure these too would be regular features. And still, there would have been plenty of space devoted to revival screenings or retrospectives we managed to catch. In other words, consistent ingredients like this would've allowed ESR to be more of a historical "journal" of its times. For instance, ESR #16 (pictured here) is a snapshot of what the entire print run could've been. I'm not suggesting it's the best issue of the run, but perhaps it's most representative of my desired scenario. It was one of the few issues that really attempted to keep up with the times, with a midsection of DVD reviews, a "thinkpiece" about current trends affecting collectors, and an article about a recent big-screen retrospective.

I'd perhaps have published two or three "regular" issues a year, and then done the theme issues as special "one-offs", not numbered with the regular issue run. By the end of its print run though, it was down to one issue a year, and therefore it would've been harder to stay on that path. However, if I had followed that model from the start, it could be said that it would've ended differently. As it stands now, much of the content has remained "timeless". On the other hand, the scene has changed so much in those years, it would've also been nice to create a living document how things changed around us. Who knows? Just a thought.

Painting John Porter

I was "yesterday" years old upon learning that John Porter had a documentary made about him. In 2001, a 12-minute video, Painting Porter, was made by Valesca R. Cerski, Jochen W. Detscher, Sascha Drews, Leah Jeffrey and Eva Ziemsen, then students at (my alma mater) York's Film & Video Department. To people enamoured of the city's "alternative" film scene, John needs no introduction. He has made over 300 Super8 films since 1968: each expanding the cinematic possibilities of such a "personal" medium. He is also a tireless supporter of independent-experimental cinema history and events, as evidenced on his exhaustive website super8porter.ca, which he has maintained since 2005. To the novice, Painting Porter serves a pretty good introduction to the man and his work. There are some nice clips of John's diverse films, such as his "Condensed Rituals" (time lapse pieces like Amusement Park or Landscape) or "Camera Dances" (studies in movement like Down On Me and Cinefuge). He is also seen on camera, discussing his work, doing "cinema busking" downtown, and sharing his views on censorship. (Fellow filmmaker Philip Hoffman is one of the other faces appearing on camera talking about John and his work.)

As far as I can tell, a Google search on this piece (until now) only brings two hits. The documentary is viewable on the website for the UK Cog Collective, where John did a show in 2007. It only seems to exist in cyberspace as a 320x240 Quicktime, so you might want to download it and blow it up in the video player of your choice. The Cog Collective programme notes for John are here. The direct link for Painting Porter is here.

[VHS Mondays] Truth In Advertising?

Video distributors were often snake oil salesmen, offering you something other than what you paid for... anything to entice you to plunk your hard-earned dollars on the counter. One common trick was to feature a popular star prominently on the box art, even if he or she only had a small role in the movie. The consumer quickly learned another rule of thumb, that if the video box had only artwork and no stills from the movie, the film in question likely stunk to high heaven. Remember, this was pre-Internet. People couldn't just "look something up", and therefore had to "roll the dice" on a purchase or rental.

In all my years of VHS hunting, though, this box (pictured here) takes the cake. Mysteries Of The Gods was a 1979 paranormal documentary, released late in the cycle of when these films were still popular. It was made by Harald Reinl, whose 1970 classic Chariots Of The Gods? jumpstarted this trend. Familiar faces like Jack Palance, Raymond Burr or (you guessed it) John Carradine were often employed to narrate these movies, which discussed such supernatural topics as UFOs, Bigfoot, The Bermuda Triangle... you name it. It makes sense that William Shatner was hired to narrate a paranormal doc during his "between Kirks" period- i.e. the gulf of time between the Star Trek TV series and the movies, when he racked up a lot of genre credits and TV appearances to pay the bills. 

The movie on its own is pretty good. (I reviewed it for an article on paranormal movies way back in ESR #14.) But, to paraphrase Kirk's pal, Bones McCoy, "What the devil is this?" To advertise a VHS tape about supernatural phenomena, they can do no better than find a still with Shatner and Angelique Pettyjohn from Star Trek's "Gamesters Of Triskelion" episode? Were they strictly going after the "Trekkie" market? This picture has nothing to do with anything. Such a bizarre, Dada-ist advertising decision is why this tape remains one of my favourite finds in the secondary market. The fun had while being had.

[Sinister Saturdays] The Seven Faces Of Bannai Tarao, Private Eye

We had planned for 2020 a series of posts dedicated to the long-running mail-order company Sinister Cinema, in tribute to its founder, the legendary Greg Luce, who was considering retirement last year. Since 1984, Sinister Cinema has specialized in weird and wonderful genre films both domestic and imported. Second features from the golden age of cinema, Mexican and Japanese monsters, and Eurospies, are just some offerings from Sinister’s eclectic catalog. Many of these titles have been unseen on this hemisphere since the days of UHF. Were it not for the diligence of Sinister Cinema (sourcing perhaps the same film prints you originally saw at the drive-in or on late-night television) they would likely remain obscure. Those posts ended up not happening, but neither did Greg's retirement! Sinister Cinema is still active, even during a pandemic! 

As far as we're concerned, they've been performing a public service in rescuing these films from blurry memories. As a “thank you” to Greg, Sinister Saturdays is an ongoing series, sampling some of the wonderful discoveries found in the Sinister Cinema catalog. 

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The Seven Faces Of Bannai Tarao, Private Eye
(Japan, 1956) 85 min B&W
Directors: Sadatsugu Matsuda, Tsuneo Kobayashi.

For crime genre fans, the appeal is not just the formula, but the different ingredients in the structure. Case in point: Japanese inspector Bannai Tarao can be added to the roster of unconventional policemen in cinema, with the novelty of investigating crimes under several disguises! Chiezō Kataoka played the character eleven times from 1946 to 1960. The first four Bannai Tarao films were produced at Daiei Studios, the remainder were from Toei, where Chiezō was a very popular star. This, the ninth in the series, is one of the few with English subtitles, so that Western viewers can sample this unusual character. As the title says, Bannai adopts seven different identities (including a magician, island millionaire, and -my favourite- an eye-patched taxi driver) to solve a series of crimes, including a botched bank robbery, and the murder-suicide of a shooter in a gang turf war, all attributed to the distribution of Colt 45 pistols being smuggled in! The deceased shooter's grieving nightclub singer girlfriend, along with his mother and sister, sister's boyfriend, and a compact, all figure somehow into this murder puzzle.

The film begins ostensibly as a somber police procedural, but soon reveals such pulpy ingredients as trap doors, and people who wilfully get in cars with strangers (if for no other reason than to advance the plot- but this is a pulp convention as well). Moats and alligators wouldn't have seemed out of place. Still, this is pretty potent for its time, with moments of strong (if not explicit) bursts of violence, like the matter-of-fact taxi explosion, and the memorably bizarre final shootout where a suit of armour becomes a shield. At the end, Bannai drives off into the mythical fog, before people even get a chance to thank him. 

Each of this film's two directors are showcased elsewhere in the Sinister catalog: Sadatsugu Matsuda's Foul Play (1955) is another Bannai Tarao film; Tsuneo Kobayashi's Four Hours Of Terror (1959) is a nifty airplane thriller. The Seven Faces Of Bannai Tarao, Private Eye is recommended for crime fans looking for something more than the usual procedural, and another worthy investigation into the seemingly endless wealth of international genre films.

Till next time...

[Fringe Fridays] Adolfas Mekas + David Avallone

It is unknown when I can return to a movie theatre, much less one of the small independent-experimental cinema venues, with my groovy suit jacket and large Tim Horton's green tea. In the meantime....  Fringe Fridays is back! Playing to an audience of one!

On pre-pandemic Friday nights, if I hadn't any prior engagements, I would shake off the work week with a "return to the self" if you like, sitting home and viewing the kind of cinema so near and dear to me: including (but not limited to) renegade Hollywood Renaissance-era productions, counterculture cinema, Experimental Film of the 1940s to the 60s and beyond, independent-underground films from the 1980s and 1990s, and documentaries: a step back to days when people had to view things projected onto blankets hung in musty basements as a cry for independence. And the inaugural Fringe Friday for the Spring 2021 Season "to an audience of one" was precisely what the doctor ordered. This madcap program was a perfect way to shake off a week of retraining and job searching. 

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Hallelujah The Hills 
(USA, 1963) Dir: Adolfas Mekas.
82 min B&W

Jonas Mekas was a more prolific filmmaker, and perhaps more "the voice" of the New American Cinema. But he co-founded the influential Film Culture magazine with his brother Adolfas, and based on this program offering a long overdue glimpse at his own films, it is clear that Adolfas Mekas (1925-2011) was a unique talent as well, harbouring a poetic blend of absurdity. After tonight's show, we can only say... more, please!

A self-confessed homage to the cinema that has influenced him (even abruptly lifting the classic "ice floe" sequence from Griffith's Way Down East) Adolfas Mekas' Hallelujah The Hills is justly regarded as a classic of the New American Cinema. This equally comedic and dreamlike tale is evocative of Buster Keaton slapstick, Marx Brothers anarchy, the playful lyricism of Vigo, Clair, and early Renoir, and the improvisatory feel of the French New Wave as two dorky would-be suitors, Jack (Peter Beard) and Leo (Marty Greenbaum) court the same woman, Vera. In a move predating Bunuel's That Obscure Object Of Desire by fourteen years, Vera is played by two women (Sheila Finn, Peggy Stefans): each representing how (respectively) Jack and Leo "envision" her.  The exquisite black-and-white cinematography is by filmmaker-illustrator Ed Emshwiller (Thanatopsis), who also acts (credited as "Emsh") as Gideon, the one who Vera marries in the film's opening, and thereby sets the boys off on a voyage... somewhere... playing their little war games- these young men are still little boys. The fragmented narrative radically blends the present with the pair's past ill-advised attempts at wooing Vera -each over a seven-year period, one in summer, another in winter, each with a montage that will recall the breakfast sequence from Citizen Kane- become more pathetic with each new season. No wonder they lost Vera. Filmmaker Jerome Hill and underground superstar Taylor Mead appear as convicts in the jaw-dropping finale that nicely sums it all up. The gimmick of the "two Vera"s doesn't quite work, but this is a delight all the same, which will reward with further viewings. Beneath the exuberant innocence, one is tempted to read a somber semi-autobiographical parable of the Mekas brothers' wartime experiences. A tour de force for writer-director-editor Mekas, although I can't help but wonder if the line of dialogue "I haven't seen a movie for ten days" was suggested by brother Jonas. It sounds just like something from his Movie Journal column. The lovely New England winter setting added a perfect "you are there" feeling to viewing the film, while under a blanket as the winds howled outside.

Added Attractions!

An Interview With Ambassador From Lapland
(USA, 1967) Dir: Adolfas Mekas.
4 min colour

A hilarious four-minute short in the guise of a Time-Life newsreel, with stock footage, cartoon segments and Adolfas Mekas as a dictator spouting rhetoric, all with quite a prescient Vietnam subtext that mainstream cinema was still catching up to. It's just long enough to crack its big joke, and it's a doozy!

Hallelujah The Villa
(Italy, 2006) Dir: David Avallone.
27 min colour

This has a lot more going on than the typical format of a DVD extra. This 27-minute opus apes the same goofy style of its inspiration, as director-interviewer David Avallone tracks down the elusive Adolfas Mekas for an interview at his beautiful Italian coastal property "which the film paid for". Lots of fun, with Mekas savouring a glass of wine, recounting its making, and his lack of pity towards "the two schmucks" in the film. 

More next time!

I'm Famous! Kind of...

Yours truly rates a mention in the latest issue of Delirium magazine. In his Video Store Confidential! column, Suspect Video's Luis Ceriz continues his overview of zine history with Part 2: The Canucks! His article includes such vintage titles from the 1980s-90s film zine boom as Trash Compactor, Sub-Terrenea, Tame, etc. Even recent pubs like The Laser Blast Film Society rate a mention, in reference to the "zine" renaissance of late. 

Alas, ESR doesn't get a mention, but the first (and so far, only) issue of my other zine Eurofantasmo! is featured in the article. Eurofantasmo! was published in Dec. 2017 in concordance with my birthday. One Sunday afternoon I celebrated the big day with two things I hadn't had in a long time: a screening and a zine launch! Eurofantasmo! was an attempt to get back into the self-publishing world, with a zine that examined the bottomless catalogue of European genre films. The intent was for each issue to explore one theme. Issue #1 offered up a brief history of Superhero-Supervillain cinema, inspired by Italian comic strips, followed by reviews of some key films. (The second issue is still in preparation: it was put on hiatus due to family emergencies and then, pandemic.)

Since that birthday screening-zine launch party, I've given out issues of Eurofantasmo! #1 to people as I've seen them. Therefore, I'm delighted and think it's quite hilarious to see that this one-off, with no fanfare, distribution or even any reviews, has been included in a history of the film zine format. 

On the other hand, after 25 issues and 12 years, ESR continues to be excluded from zine history, and I can only blame myself and bad timing for that. The first issue of ESR was published in 2001, several years after the big "film zine boom" petered out, and a few years before the zine scene in general kind of wound down. I admittedly didn't promote it through any more channels than self-distribution, and appearances at trade shows around town. It felt like there was just enough time to research, write, publish and move on to the next issue. I should have had a point of purchase, i.e. putting them up for consignment at stores like Suspect, so that they got seen. Plus, I've always regretted not breaking into the US market. This folly has of course affected its exclusion from history.

Events in recent months have forced me to ponder what there is ahead, and what I've left behind. Alas, I wish to leave this post with a positive note. The new website is forthcoming, as is its return to print. From here, it can only go upwards. 

There is a saying that when you complete a work, it's no longer "yours", as it leaves into the hands of others. From there, you just never know where your creation ends up. If it makes a difference to anyone, and enriches their lives even briefly, then it's worth it. I'm glad that Eurofantasmo! has done that. Thanks Luis, for the plug.

Look for Delirium wherever magazines are sold.

[VHS Mondays] Teenage Theater

In 1987, the amazing Rhino Home Video released a series of vintage 1950s juvenile delinquent and rockabilly films under the banner, Teenage Theater. Each tape featured wraparound segments by the queen of 50s exploitation, Mamie Van Doren, who would introduce the film by a pink Cadillac, standing in front of a vintage jukebox, or while seated in a retro 50s diner, all while making goo goo eyes at leather-jacketed young men. And why not? She still looked great in her mid-50s when these were produced... in fact she still looks great at 89! 

The titles included: Arch Hall Jr.'s classic Wild Guitar, Roger Corman's Carnival Rock, the docu-drama cautionary tale Teenage Devil Dolls,  John Ashley as High School Caesar, the Texas-lensed rockabilly film Rock Baby Rock It and the "teenagers on the lam" gem, Naked Youth. Another title in the Teenage Theater banner was The Violent Years, a "girl gang on the loose" fable scripted by the one and only Edward D. Wood Jr.! Its arrival to home video was timely, as earlier in the decade, there was a renewed interest in Ed Wood, thanks in part to the Golden Turkey Awards book, the compilation film It Came From Hollywood, and revivals of Plan 9 From Outer Space and Glen Or Glenda. VHS brought a second life to many vintage titles, and arguably helped find first-time audiences for forgotten films. The VHS release of The Violent Years was revelatory in this regard. While he did not direct, this film is vintage Wood alone, just for the dialogue. Another Teenage Theater release was the compilation film, Teenage Confidential: a terrific compendium of vintage JD trailers and excerpts, masterminded by showman and rockabilly institution, Johnny Legend. 

Rhino Home Video was hardly the first to re-issue 50s B films for VHS (Sinister Cinema and Canada's own Admit One predate them by several years), but arguably, theirs was the first video company to brand a personality surrounding their releases. For instance, Rhino would issue compilation tapes presented by Johnny Legend, such as Battle Of The Bombs (a "best of the worst" compendium), Bambi Meets Godzilla And Other Weird Cartoons, Dope Mania (bet you can guess what that is), and of course, the Sleazemania series, featuring trailers of vintage sleaze and sexploitation films. (In a few years, Mike Vraney's Something Weird Video would continue the tradition of a company's unique branding surrounding home video releases of vintage exploitation.) 

The Teenage Theater Gallery (click on any box to see them bigger in a lightbox)

Teenage Theater was a notch above the usual nostalgic releases, for the Mamie Van Doren segments, and for an opening theme song (!), with such humourous lines as "pill popping punks", that played over clips from each of the films in the series. Some nice person edited together all of the wraparound sequences from this tape series, into one Youtube video, which can be enjoyed in the link below. And don't be surprised if by the end you too will be singing "Tee-EE-nage THEE-ater" in the same falsetto voice.

Rhino re-issued the series, in the mid-90s, with all the wraparound segments still intact, however in EP mode. The slipcases on the re-issues do have a distinctive branding however, that still made them attractive to collectors.

For people like yours truly who came of age in the burgeoning VHS era, and was discovering films for the first time as they were being made available to home video, Teenage Theater was a terrific "crash course" on vintage JD films. In fact, the only misgiving one could have is that none of Mamie Van Doren's own movies are featured in the tape series. (Untamed Youth would have been a perfect fit, as would have High School Confidential. Perhaps someone did think of it, but it all came down to licensing fees.) My introduction to Teenage Theater was on television, believe it or not. In 1989 and 1990, City TV programmed two all-nighters of vintage "troubled teen" movies, which they packaged as "Too Cool For Rules" night, featuring many Teenage Theater titles, with the theme song and Van Doren segments still intact! 

I later caught up with the actual tapes when I moved back to the city. Sam The Video Man still had some Teenage Theater VHS for sale when they began liquidating in the 2000s! Their packaging and hosted sequences remain very attractive for collectors. The films themselves are blasts from the past; writing this article has made me eager to revisit them in the near future. (Postscript: Johnny Legend issued six of these titles to DVD in the boxed set, Teen Mania. But I'm not sure if they're exactly the same prints as the Rhino VHS. A cursory glance at the High School Caesar DVD reveals that some of the song score has been replaced by instrumental music.)

Oh. For the record (and because I'm an incurable archivist), here are the films that City showed on both "Too Cool For Rules" nights. (Additional titles, apart from the Teenage Theater series, were scheduled, but have the same appeal.)

December 30, 1989:

10:30 PM High School Caesar. 

12:00 AM Teenage Confidential. 

01:10 AM The Violent Years. 

02:20 AM Carnival Rock. 

04:00 AM Naked Youth.

June 1, 1990:

10:30 PM Teenage Devil Dolls.

12:00 AM Teenage Thunder.

01:30 AM Wild Guitar.

03:25 AM The Atomic Kid.

[Thursday Nostalgia] My Very First Video Store Haul

Adorning the shelves of many film enthusiasts are titles acquired from a video store closeout sale. Some may be old favourites that they were glad to have. Others just may be something they took a chance on during the last few days of the sale, and it only cost a few bucks!

Closeout sales were usually patterned the same way, either in the heyday of video rentals, or during the recent spate of store closures in the city. Video store owners would sell off their movies by staggering the prices over several weeks. With each coming week, the prices would drop slightly, until the final seven days, when the remainder of stock could be had just for a few bucks each. Usually, the scavengers came out then, trying to find the gold that others overlooked. Back in the VHS era, it was common for videos to sell for fifty dollars in the first week, even if they were ex-rentals, as it was still expensive to buy videotapes new. So if prestige titles had no problem selling for fifty, you could just imagine the table scraps that remained for five!

I began attending closeout sales in those pre-DVD years, during my "swinging Bohemian" days. Rarely did I buy VHS pre-records back then, unless they were reasonably cheap, or unless I knew that I'd watch them again and again. (The first pre-record I ever purchased was Night Of The Living Dead on the Interglobal label, at our local K-Mart. This remains one of the titles I've watched the most, so that was a no-brainer.) Still, the treasure hunter inside me could never resist checking out these sales, even when I was a student on a budget. I'd usually wait until the final week, to see what was still available for five bucks. But you quickly learned how these "final weeks" worked. There seemed to be an unwritten law: the majority of stuff left over for the last seven days would be an entire wall of Canadian films, and a section of Henry Jaglom movies. 

The first closeout sale I ever attended was Budget Videos, formerly on Toronto's St. Nicholas Street. The ad you see in this article was published in the August 24, 1995 issue of Now Magazine. One presumes this store was a big deal, to warrant purchasing a half-page advertisement, for a liquidation that went for about six weeks. Still, I waited until mid-September to peek into the sale. This was when I had just started doing my college field placement at the CFC. One afternoon after work, I popped by when everything was down to $7.95 a tape. Even then, there was a lot of empty shelf space. And there was still one more, final week to go after this, when all remaining stock was a measly $4.95!!!

My intent that afternoon was to merely scope out what was left, and maybe hide a few boxes, in the hopes that they would still be there the following week. However, I did pick up the Republic two-tape set of the complete serial, Daredevils Of The Red Circle, surmising that it would be gone before then. That day, I also hemmed and hawed about picking up the Claudia Jennings classic, Group Marriage, and foolishly decided to take my chances and leave it for next week. Another unwritten law, as sure as the "Canadian films-Henry Jaglom movies" clause: there will always be "one that gets away". I knew I'd regret leaving it. Just to save three bucks? I could have forgone another chicken patty. But, we can't buy everything.

As expected, when I popped in after work the following Monday, when  "$4.95 week" had begun, the store was a feeding frenzy! No Surprise #2: Group Marriage was gone. By then, all the remaining stock was squeezed into one or two aisles. Most of my half hour there was spent on my knees, ducking people fastidiously grabbing unknown boxes from the shelves. At the end of the aisle, there were a few of those big Videohound reference books provided by the store. So if a customer scanned a video box, and wasn't sure if the movie "was for them", they could find a review for it. I remember one guy with round glasses, a blue trenchcoat and a well-guarded stack of titles, thumbing through these books to see what he had. I don't think he put anything back. 

That afternoon, I left with some old favourites for five bucks a pop: Key Video's edition of the spaghetti western A Minute To Pray, A Second To Die; Rob Nilsson's independent film Signal 7, a tremendous influence on making my own movies (and sadly appeared in every video closeout's "final week"); and the New Zealand horror film Strange Behaviour, which impressed me upon viewing it years ago on (pause- sigh) WGRZ's all-night show, The Cat's Pajamas. This haul included some previously unseen titles that I had rolled the dice on: Railroaded (Anthony Mann's supercool B-noir) and Tracks (you guessed it- a Henry Jaglom movie).

Sometimes the stuff in our collections matter more for what they represent than for what they are. Even today, when I look at these video boxes, I don't think of them as film noir, horror, "that Henry Jaglom movie", etc. Instead I think of them as "Budget Video" movies- as a whole. I also think of them as a group because all but the serial were viewed under the same conditions in the following months: late at night, when I had the apartment to myself. Watching movies is generally a lonely vocation. That isolation especially crept in from these misunderstood orphans whose subtle, understated qualities were manifest in the dead of night. By default, I also associate them with that crucial point in my life, as they were viewed during the final semester of school. As I sat alone in that lazy boy, across from my little 13 inch colour TV, I knew soon I would make a bittersweet departure from that groovy bohemian apartment into an uncertain future. Much like the video store these movies came from, it was the end of an era.

That Henry Jaglom movie.

[VHS Mondays] Best Of The CFC

One thing about this Sabbatical- I've been getting caught up on household things I've either put off or didn't have time to do in my previous life. This week I was cleaning "the scary closet", and just in time for this week's VHS Mondays, I found this VHS tape. Vol. 1 The Best Of The CFC, is an offering by Rogers' First Rites label, which distributed Canadian-produced independent films (a redundant phrase, as most of Canada's cinema is independent). My past sojourns into video clearance bins and the like have turned up a couple of their releases (the Tarantino-influenced Trouble immediately comes to mind), but otherwise I don't know much about this banner. A cursory Google search turns up little information, let alone how many titles it distributed, although our friends at Film Trap make a valiant first stab. 

The Best Of The CFC (a Google search does not turn up a "Volume 2"), compiles five short films produced at the Canadian Film Centre, the institution for advanced film studies and production, founded by Norman Jewison in 1988. Featured are: Keith Behrman's Ernest (2002), Vincenzo Natali's Elevated (1996), Andrew Ainsworth's Cleveland Wood's Last Day On Earth (1996), Aubrey Nealon's In Memoriam (2001), and Alex Chapple's The Passion Of John Ruskin (1994).  Re-discovering this tape is rather timely, because lately I've been thinking a lot about when I worked at the CFC while on field placement in college. There is enough material there for a couple of blog posts. Suffice it to say for now, I was there just before Andrew and Vincenzo made these films. I was supposed to have worked as a coordinator on these and the four other shorts that CFC produced at the beginning of 1996. Alas, they couldn't afford to pay me, and I couldn't afford to work free for another six weeks. So, there went my chance to have six professional credits on my resume. (Except for some positions, most of the crew members on CFC shorts were unpaid volunteers. Because of the mystique and prestige surrounding the CFC, and that these films potentially travel the world, these are added incentives for people to get up at 5 AM to lug Seeway pro bono.) 

Among the alumni of CFC residents (writers, producers, directors) are such familiar names as Margot Kidder, Paul Quarrington, Mina Shum and Clement Virgo. Cynthia Dale, Scott Speedman and Sandra Oh are a few of the famous players who have appeared in their films. For some marquee value, the video box for this collection touts the names of Neve Campbell and Mark McKinney (both starring in John Ruskin), plus that of Vincenzo Natali, whose debut feature Cube was made by the CFC's Feature Film Project, just after his work on Elevated, to which this work is thematically similar.  

Still, this got me thinking about how poorly Canadian film history is documented in some areas- especially for short films (that is, those not made by the NFB). You pretty much have to know what you're looking for, and even then, Google searches result in disappointingly little. One time I made a list of CFC titles I remembered checking film prints of in their projection booth, and pasted each of them into a web browser. For many, the returns were disappointingly minute. Additionally, I'd like for there to be a database of all titles that were distributed by First Rites. Hopefully, I can contribute some more HTML to the blogosphere in the near future. With each new generation, there is a cinematic heritage slipping through the cracks that needs to be upheld. Anyway, more on that in a future update. For now, time to pour a cup of coffee and revisit some memories.

What chromium dioxide delights await next week's column? Until then, be kind and rewind!

[Streaming] Warren Sonbert + Mike Kuchar

Because the pandemic has shuttered most theatres, many independent venues and film collectives had chosen to generate some revenue by streaming material online. 

New York's fabled Anthology Film Archives turned to the internet to commemorate what would be their fiftieth anniversary of programming. Last month, for a limited engagement, they streamed an exact reproduction of their very first program decades ago, consisting of a few experimental shorts. And now for a limited time, you are able to view a Mike Kuchar short on their Vimeo account. His 30-minute Death Cult Of The Ju-Ju's (1976; pictured above) can be rented for $3.99 US to stream for a 72-hour period.

Synopsis from the AFA: "Arguably Mike’s solo magnum opus, DEATH QUEST is a mini-epic that gleefully and lovingly combines two of Mike’s favorite – if seemingly irreconcilable – genres. What appears at first to be a straightforward prehistoric tale soon morphs into something else entirely, with the deux ex machina appearance of…sorry, no spoilers. In any case, whatever the genre, DEATH QUEST was made with a nearly non-existent budget, but with admirably game actors, Mike’s uniquely resourceful visual gifts, and his inimitable ability to combine mischievous parody with wide-eyed sincerity."

It is a rare treat to view anything by the brothers George or Mike Kuchar. Click here to view and support the AFA. 

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Warren Sonbert's work warrants multiple viewings- all the more frustrating that one could only see it in various one-off venues. Gartenberg Media is changing that. We belatedly discovered that three of Sonbert's early works, all from 1966, Amphetamine (10 min), Where Did Our Love Go? (15 min) and his modern classic Hall Of Mirrors (7 min, pictured above), can be streamed for free until January 5. 

From Gartenberg's webpage: "Sonbert’s earliest films, in which he captured the spirit of his generation, were inspired first by the university milieu and then by the denizens of the Warhol art scene, including superstars Rene Ricard and Gerard Malanga. In these loosely structured narratives, Sonbert boldly experimented with the relationship between filmmaker and protagonists through extensively choreographed hand-held camera movements within each shot. The mood of these films was further modulated by chiaroscuro effects, achieved primarily through natural lighting (in both indoor and outdoor shots), combined with variations in the raw film stock and the exposure and the use of rock-and-roll music on the soundtrack."

Visit this link here to view them while you still can. More of Sonbert's work will be made available by Gartenberg through 2021.

Joan Micklin Silver (1935 - 2020)

Joan Micklin Silver [May 24, 1935 - Dec. 31, 2020]

Writer-Director Joan Micklin Silver is one of my favourite filmmakers from the 1970s American Renaissance - a time when it was even more rare to see women making feature films. One could say that Ms. Silver (along with others in that small camp: Claudia Weill, Joan Darling, Martha Coolidge and Barbara Loden) was a trailblazer in that vein, as women had to make movies outside of "the system" (aka- The Hollywood Boys Club), and one could make the case that they still have to. But the term "trailblazer" is perhaps the incorrect term to describe the delicate beauty of her work. Rather, her films are of the subtle attributes that many works in "the system" still require: they are understated, unpretentious,  disarmingly quirky, subtly surprising, and feel so organic, alive!

After directing some short films, including the well-regarded PBS short film, Bernice Bobs Her Hair,  and co-writing the screenplay for Limbo (directed by Mark Robson), she made her feature-film debut with 1975's Hester Street, featuring Carol Kane in a breakthrough Oscar nominated role. My favourite of her work, 1977's Between The Lines, features an ensemble of now-familiar talent that was just on the cusp of breaking out (Jeff Goldblum, John Heard, Lindsay Crouse, Marilu Henner, Jill Eikenberry, and many others). Her subsequent film, the Bergman-esque Chilly Scenes Of Winter (1979), featuring Heard, Mary Beth Hurt and Gloria Grahame in one of her final roles, is a haunting fable of love gone wrong. The romantic comedy Crossing Delancey (1989), with Amy Irving, was a fine return to feature filmmaking, after spending a decade in television. (Many female directors found work in television after breakthrough features.) Her films were often produced by her husband, the late Raphael D. Silver. He directed one film, On The Yard, a 1978 prison drama also with Heard, which she in turn produced. The Silvers had three daughters: Dina, Marisa, and Claudia. Marisa also began a career of directing similarly subtle, affecting films: Old Enough (1984), and Permanent Record (1988).

FILMS: (as director, and screenwriter*, unless specified): The Immigrant Experience: The Long Long Journey (1972 short, +scr.),Limbo (1972; screenplay only, based on her novel), The Fur Coat Club (1973 short; +scr.), The Case of the Elevator Duck (1974 short; +scr.), Hester Street (1975; +scr.), The Frontier Experience (1975 short, screenplay only), Bernice Bobs Her Hair (1976 short; +scr.), Between the Lines (1977), On The Yard (1978; producer only) Chilly Scenes of Winter (aka- Head Over Heels) (1979; +scr.), Faerie Tale Theatre: The Nightingale (1983 TV short; screenplay only), How to Be a Perfect Person in Just Three Days (1983 TV movie), Finnegan Begin Again (1985 TV movie), Crossing Delancey (1988), Loverboy (1989), Prison Stories: Women on the Inside (1991 TV movie - segment 2), Big Girls Don't Cry... They Get Even (1992), A Private Matter (1992 TV movie), In the Presence of Mine Enemies (1997 TV movie), Invisible Child (1999 TV movie), A Fish in the Bathtub (1999), Charms for the Easy Life (2002 TV movie), Hunger Point (2003 TV movie)

Hester Street: Carol Kane

Between The Lines: Jeff Golblum

Between The Lines: Lindsay Crouse, Gwen Welles

Chilly Scenes Of Winter: John Heard, Mary Beth Hurt

Chilly Scenes Of Winter: Gloria Grahame

Crossing Delancey: Amy Irving, Peter Riegert

Well, That's That

Hi friends. Happy 2021. What follows is a long post, but since it's a statutory holiday, there was time to have written it (and for that matter, there is time to read it). This is the first of what I hope to be a return to increasing our web presence in the year ahead. I know that I've promised this numerous times in the past, and have fallen short. But it appears that, because of the "unprecedented times" in which we now live (yes, I'm as sick of hearing that phrase as you are), time is the one thing I have a repository of right now. 

This blog post is divided into sections for better navigation: 1) Where We Are. 2) Aspirations. 3) Films Seen in 2020. 4) Best Of's... and other lists. 5. Thank You.

1)  Where We Are

After taking care of some personal matters in the past couple of years, it was hoped that 2020 was going to be "our year", until "this thing" came along. I was fortunate to have still had my day job (no, I don't do ESR for a living) for most of 2020 (working from home since March), whereas a lot of my freelance friends still haven't worked since last spring. Alas, after 22 years, my full-time employment ended at the beginning of December (aided in part by the pandemic). The majority are looking forward to 2021 as a "great reset" after that dreadful year, and I especially will be entertaining new possibilities in the months ahead. The clock turning to January One Twenty-Twenty-One is a great symbol of change, but the planet, and the human race, still need a lot of work. If anything can be salvaged from this horrific malady, it's the realization of how badly some things in our world need to be fixed. We have the power and opportunity to change things: it's up to all of us!

There are greater things to worry about right now than yet another film-related collection of HTML, I know. But if these words can offer a bit of relief and comfort to people, well then, we can ask for nothing greater. In addition to the opportunities we'll be seeking in the new year, we will also be journeying towards the ambition to increase ESR's web presence.

2) Aspirations

As we speak, ESR's website is being renovated, with new design, and a wealth of content: including "classic content" from ESR's original print run, and brand new material (DVD reviews, and so on). In keeping the minimum "six-page-a-day" goal, we envision the "new site" to be active in the next few weeks. (It's been taking longer than anticipated, meaning that we must be something right!) 

Upon reaching a greater web presence (and potentially, a greater audience) than before, it is our intention to resume publishing by the end of the year. I'm still a print guy at heart, and think that ESR can still exist in physical media, even if it is "print on demand". The renaissance of "print film zines" in the past few years has shown that there is a new and old audience to support it.

So, feel free to bookmark this blog for announcements of all things ESR in the future, and for more fun film-related posts.

3) Films Seen In 2020

I saw about 430 films (features and shorts) last year. 285 were first-time viewings. That's a lot of celluloid! We could argue about whether seeing that many movies in one year is something to be proud of. However, film history is my passion, and because I chose to keep myself and others safe, most of my waking hours were spent indoors, watching films (when not doing work stuff on the computer, of course). 

The titles listed below comprise all the features and shorts I watched in the past 365 days, organized by their directors. They are displayed this way, because it acts as a personal diary of sorts: reminding me of half-started attempts to study several filmmakers' bodies of work for articles or reviews that never materialized, and to serve as inspiration for future writings.

Notes: an asterisk (*) signifies a repeat screening; (TV) refers to a made-for-TV movie.

Abel Ferrara: The Driller Killer (1979)*
Akos Rathonyi: Cave Of The Living Dead (1964)
Al Adamson: The Female Bunch (1969), Satan's Sadists (1969), Girls For Rent (1974), Blazing Stewardesses (1975)*, Jessi's Girls (1975), Black Samurai (1977)*, The Kill Factor (1978)*, Sunset Cove (1978)*
Al St. John: Shot In The Excitement (1914)
Alain Cavalier: Have I The Right To Kill (1964)
Alan Parker: Come See The Paradise (1990)
Alan Rudolph: Ray Meets Helen (2017)
Alexander Dovzhenko: Earth (1930)
Alexander Grasshoff: Young Americans (1967)
Alfred Hitchcock: The Lady Vanishes (1938)*
Alfred Sole: Pandemonium (1982)
Amos Poe: Subway Riders (1981), Alphabet City (1984)
Ana Mariscal: El camino (1963)
Anatole Litvak: Blues In The Night (1941)
Andrei Tarkovsky: Solaris (1972)*
Andrew Patterson: The Vast Of Night (2019)
Andrew V. McLaglen: The Hellfighters (1969)*, Cahill: United States Marshall (1973)*
Andy Milligan: Guru, The Mad Monk (1970)
Anthony Mann: Two O'Clock Courage (1945)
Antonio Boccaci: Tomb Of Torture (1963)
Antonio Margheriti: The Wild, Wild Planet (1966)*, The Unnaturals (1969), Cannibal Apocalypse (1980)
Archie Mayo: Sweet And Low-Down (1944)
Arnold Laven: Rough Night In Jericho (1967)
Arthur Dreifuss: Junior Prom (1946)
Arthur J. Bressan Jr.: Buddies (1985)
Arthur Lubin: Ali Baba And The Forty Thieves (1944)
Astrid Henning-Jensen: Krane's Confectionery (1951)

B. Reeves Eason: Truck Busters (1943)
Barbara Hammer: Schizy (1967), X (1973), Dyketactics (1974), Menses (1974), Bent Time (1984), Optic Nerve (1985)
Barry Rosen: Devil's Express (1976)*
Bert I. Gordon: Beginning Of The End (1957)*
Bill Rebane: Blood Harvest (1987)*
Bob Sarles: Fly Jefferson Airplane (2004)
Bong Joon-ho: Snowpiercer (2014), Parasite (2019)
Brian Trenchard-Smith: Dead End Drive-In (1986)
Brian Yuzna: Return Of The Living Dead 3 (1993)
Bruce Baillie: Mr. Hayashi (1961), On Sundays (1961), Here I Am (1962), To Parsifal (1963), Mass For The Dakota Sioux (1964), Quixote (1965), Castro Street (1966)*, Little Girl (1966), All My Life (1966), Valentin de las Sierras (1968), Quick Billy (1971), Roslyn Romance (1976), Tung (1966), Pieta (1998)
Bruce Kessler: Simon, King Of The Witches (1971)*
Bruce Weber: Let's Get Lost (1989)*
Bruno Mattei: Cruel Jaws (1995)
Bruno VeSota: The Brain Eaters (1958)*
Buster Keaton, Edward F. Cline: One Week (1920), The Balloonatic (1923)
Buzz Kulik: Warning Shot (1967)*

Caleb Deschanel: The Escape Artist (1982)
Carl Lerner: Black Like Me (1964)
Carl Reiner: Enter Laughing (1967), The Comic (1969), Where's Poppa? (1970)
Carlos Enrique Taboada: Even The Wind Is Afraid (1968)
Carol Reed: Night Train To Munich (1940)*
Chano Urueta: The Witch's Mirror (1962)
Charles B. Pierce: Grayeagle (1977)
Charley Chase: Fifteen Minutes (1921)
Chris Lamson: Soundies: A Musical History (2007)
Chris Robinson: The Intruder (1975)*
Christopher Morahan: All Neat In Black Stockings (1969)
Chuck Bail: Cleopatra Jones And The Casino Of Gold (1975), The Gumball Rally (1976)*
Chuck Russell: The Blob (1988)
Cindy Sherman: Office Killer (1997)
Clark L. Paylow: Ring Of Terror (1962)
Claude Chabrol: The Third Lover (1962)
Clint Eastwood: Space Cowboys (2000)*, Richard Jewell (2019)
Constantine S. Gochis: The Redeemer: Son Of Satan (1978)
Curtis Harrington: Planet Of Blood (1966)*
Cynthia Scott: The Company Of Strangers (1990)

D. Ross Lederman: Bullet Scars (1942)
Dale Berry: Hot-Blooded Woman (1965)
Dario Argento: The Bird With The Crystal Plumage (1970), Inferno (1980)*
Darren Aronofsky: Pi (1998)
David Anspaugh: Fresh Horses (1988)
David Cronenberg: Shivers (1975)*
David DeCoteau: Deadly Embrace (1989)
David Gregory: Blood & Flesh: The Reel Life & Ghastly Death of Al Adamson (2019)
David Howard: The Fighting Gringo (1939)*
David Twohy: The Arrival (1996)
David Wickes: Sweeney! (1977)
Dean Alioto: The McPherson Tape (1989)
Deborah Stratman: Vever: (for Barbara) (2018)
Delmer Daves: A Summer Place (1959)
Diane Kurys: Entre Nous (1983)
Director X: Across The Line (2015)
Don Owen: Partners (1976)
Don Siegel: Hell Is For Heroes (1962)*
Donald Wolfe: Savage Intruder (1970)
Duccio Tessari: Death Occurred Last Night (1970), Un centesimo di secondo (1981)

Eddie Davis: Panic In The City (1968)*

Eddie Romero: Black Mama, White Mama (1972)*, Beyond Atlantis (1973)*
Edgar G. Ulmer: The Cavern (1965)
Edo Bertoglio: Downtown 81 (2000)*
Edouard Molinaro: Just The Way You Are (1984)
Edward Bell: American Heart (1992)
Edward D. Wood, Jr.: Night Of The Ghouls (1959)*
Edward Owens: Remembrance: A Portrait Study (1967), Tomorrow's Promises (1967), Private Imaginings And Narrative Facts (1970)
Edward Yang: Yi Yi (2000)
Elio Petri: The Teacher From Vigevano (1963)
Enzo G. Castellari: Kill Them All And Come Back Alone (1968), Cold Eyes Of Fear (1971), The New Barbarians (1983)
Erle C. Kenton: Devil's Playground (1937)
Ernest Pintoff: Who Killed Mary What'sername? (1971)

Ferde Grofe Jr.: Day Of The Wolves (1971)*
Fernando Mendez: The Living Coffin (1959)
Franco Giraldi: Sugar Colt (1966)
Frank McDonald: Gunfight At Comanche Creek (1963)
Fred Dekker: Night Of The Creeps (1986)*
Fred Olen Ray: Biohazard (1985), Commando Squad (1987)*, Terminal Force (1989)*, Bikini Drive-In (1995)
Freddie Francis: They Came From Beyond Space (1967)*
Fredric Hobbs: Godmonster Of Indian Flats (1973)*
Fritz Lang: House By The River (1950)

Gary Youngman: Rush It (1978)
George A. Romero: There's Always Vanilla (1971)*, Jack's Wife (1972)*, The Crazies (1973)*
George Englund: Zachariah (1971)*
George Marshall: Destry (1954)
George Montgomery: Guerillas In Pink Lace (1964)
Gilbert Cates: I Never Sang For My Father (1970)*, Summer Wishes, Winter Dreams (1973)
George Nierenberg: Say Amen, Somebody (1982)
Gilbert W. Taylor: Frankenstein On Campus (1970)
Giuliano Carmineo: Convoy Busters (1975)
Gjon Mili: Jammin' The Blues (1944)*
Gregg Araki: The Living End (1992)*
Greta Gerwig: Lady Bird (2017)
Greta Schiller, Andrea Weiss: International Sweethearts Of Rhythm (1986)
Guillermo del Toro: The Shape Of Water (2017)

Hal Ashby: 8 Million Ways To Die (1986)
Hal Hartley: The Unbelievable Truth (1989)*, Trust (1990)*, Simple Men (1992)*, Opera 1 (1994), Flirt (1995)
Hal Kanter: I Married A Woman (1958)

Harry Sutherland: Track Two (1982)
Harry Thomason: Encounter With The Unknown (1973)*, So Sad About Gloria (1973)*, The Day It Came To Earth (1979)*
Helia Colombo: The Police Are Blundering In The Dark (1975)
Henry Lehrman: Father Was A Loafer (1915)
Henri Verneuil: The Burglars (1971)*
Herb Wallerstein: Snowbeast (1977) (TV)*
Herbert Ross: I Ought To Be In Pictures (1982)
Herman Hoffman: The Invisible Boy (1957)
Howard Hawks: The Crowd Roars (1932), Ceiling Zero (1936), Only Angels Have Wings (1939), Air Force (1943), I Was A Male War Bride (1949), Monkey Business (1952)*, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953)*, Rio Bravo (1959)*, Man's Favorite Sport? (1964)*, El Dorado (1967)*, Rio Lobo (1970)*

Irvin S. Yeaworth: The Blob (1958)*
Irving Lerner: Murder By Contract (1958)
Isaac Julien: Derek (2008)
Ivan Passer: Cutter's Way (1981)*
J. Lee Thompson: The Weak And The Wicked (1954), An Alligator Named Daisy (1955), As Long As They're Happy (1955), Tiger Bay (1959), Eye Of The Devil (1966)

Jacinto Molina: The Beast And The Magic Sword (1983)
Jack Sholder: The Hidden (1987)*
Jack Smight: The Third Day (1965)
Jacqueline Audry: Olivia (1951)
Jacques Becker: Antoine And Antoinette (1947)
Jacques Demy: Lola (1961)*, Bay Of Angels (1963)*, Model Shop (1969), Une Chambre en Ville (1982)
James A. Sullivan: Night Fright (1967)
James Glickenhaus: The Astrologer (1977)
James Landis: Stakeout! (1962)*, The Nasty Rabbit (1964)*, Deadwood '76 (1965)*, Rat Fink (1965)
Jan Troell: Zandy's Bride (1974)
Javier Aguirre: The Killer Is One Of Thirteen (1973)
Jean-Marie Pelissie: The Bride (1973)
Jean-Pierre Melville: Le Silence de la Mer (1949), When You Read This Letter (1953), Two Men In Manhattan (1959)*
Jeff Feuerzeig: The Devil And Daniel Johnston (2005)
Jeff Renfroe: I Am Steve McQueen (2014)
Jess Franco: The Sadistic Baron Von Klaus (1962), Two Female Spies With Flowered Panties (1978), The Night Of Open Sex (1983), Bahia blanca (1984)
Jess Robbins: Meet Father (1924)
Jesse Hibbs: Rails Into Laramie (1954)
Jodie Mack: The Grand Bizarre (2018)
Joe O'Connell: Danger God (2019)
Joe Rock: The Whirlwind (1922)
John Ainsworth: The One-Eyed Soldiers (1967)*
John Baxter: Crooks Tour (1941)
John G. Avildsen: Cry Uncle! (1971), For Keeps (1988),  Rocky V (1990)
John H. Auer: Hell's Half Acre (954)
John Hancock: Let's Scare Jessica To Death (1971)
John Hayes: Dream No Evil (1970)
John Stewart: Action U.S.A. (1989)
John Sturges: Sign Of The Ram (1948), Mystery Street (1950), The Magnificent Seven (1960)*, Joe Kidd (1972)*

John Sturges, Duilio Coletti: Chino (1973)*
Jonathan Demme: Last Embrace (1979)*, Philadelphia (1993)*
Jose Ramon Larraz: Black Candles (1982)
Joseph Cates: Who Killed Teddy Bear? (1965)
Joseph M. Newman: King Of The Roaring 20's - The Story of Arnold Rothstein (1961)
Julian Schnabel: Basquiat (1996)*
Julie Dash: Daughters Of The Dust (1991)*

Karim Dridi: Cuba Feliz (2000)
Ken Kwapis: Vibes (1988)
Kenneth Hartford: Hell Squad (1986)
Kenneth Hartford, David L. Hewitt: The Lucifer Complex (1979)*
Kirsten Johnson: Cameraperson (2016)
Kleber Mendonca Filho, Juliano Dornelles: Bacurau (2019)
Konstantin Yershov, Georgi Kropachyov: Viy (1967)

l'Atelier national du Manitoba: Kubasa In A Glass: The Fetishized Winnipeg TV Commercial 1976-1992 (2005)*, Death By Popcorn: The Tragedy Of The Winnipeg Jets (2006)
Lamont Johnson: Cattle Annie And Little Britches (1981)*
Larry Buchanan: Creature Of Destruction (1967)
Larry Cohen: Perfect Strangers (1984)
Laszlo Benedek: Port Of New York (1949)
Lee Philips: Wanted: The Sundance Woman (1976)*
Leigh Jason: The Choppers (1961)*
Leon Klimovsky: Trauma (1978)
Lesley Selander: Revolt At Fort Laramie (1957)
Lewis Jackson: Christmas Evil (1980)*
Lo Wei: The Chinese Connection (1972)
Louis Belanger: Gaz Bar Blues (2003)
Louis Malle: Murmur Of The Heart (1971)*, The Human Condition (1974), Lacombe, Lucien (1974), Black Moon (1975), May Fools (1990)
Louis Myll: Outs And Ins (1916)
Louise Sherrill: Ghosts Of Hanley House (1968)
Lucio Fulci: The New Gladiators (1984)
Lucrecia Martel: La Cienaga (2001)
Luigi Scattini : Ring Around The World (1966)

Mai Zetterling: Loving Couples (1964)
Mario Bava: Black Sabbath (1963)*, Kill, Baby... Kill! (1966)*, Hatchet For The Honeymoon (1970)*, Baron Blood (1972)*, Shock (1977)*
Mark Rydell: On Golden Pond (1981)*
Martin B. Cohen: Rebel Rousers (1970)*
Martin Goldman: Dark August (1976)
Martin McDonagh: Three Billboards Outside Ebbing Missouri (2017)
Matt Austin: Don't You Forget About Me (2009)
Matthew Chapman: Strangers Kiss (1983)*
Maurice Cloche, Federico Chentrens : The Killer Likes Candy (1968)
Max & Dave Fleischer: The Fade Away (1925)
Maya Deren: A Study In Choreography For The Camera (1945)*
Maya Deren, Alexander Hammid: Meshes Of The Afternoon (1943)*, At Land (1944)*, The Private Life Of A Cat (1946)
Michael Chapman: All The Right Moves (1983)
Michael Fengler, Rainer Werner Fassbinder: Why Does Herr R. Run Amok (1970)*
Michael Powell, Emeric Pressburger: Black Narcissus (1947)*, Gone To Earth (1950)

Michael Powell, Emeric Pressburger, Rouben Mamoulian: The Wild Heart (1952)*
Michael Rubbo: The Peanut Butter Solution (1985)
Michele Lupo: Master Stroke (1967), The Master Touch (1972)*, Mean Frank And Crazy Tony (1973)*, Why Did You Pick On Me? (1980)
Milos Forman: The Firemen's Ball (1967)*
Monte Hellman: Ride In The Whirlwind (1965)*, The Shooting (1967)*, Silent Night, Deadly Night 3: Better Watch Out (1989)

Nagisa Oshima: Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence (1983)

Pelin Esmer: 10 to 11 (2009)
Penny Marshall: Big (1988)*
Peter Adair, Lucy Massie Phenix, Veronica Selver, Andrew Brown, Rob Epstein: Word Is Out Stories Of Some Of Our Lives (1977)
Peter Bogdanovich: What's Up, Doc? (1972)*, Paper Moon (1973)*
Peter Fonda: Wanda Nevada (1979)
Peter Hall: Perfect Friday (1970)
Peter Hyams: The Star Chamber (1983)*
Peter Markle: Youngblood (1986)
Peter Weir: Picnic At Hanging Rock (1975)*
Pierre Chevalier: Panther Squad (1985)
Pupi Avati: The House Of The Laughing Windows (1976)

R.G. Springsteen: Hellfire (1949), Hostile Guns (1967)*
Rachel Amodeo: Rest In Peace (1991), What About Me? (1993), Pierre Paolo (1998)
Rafael Baledon: The Curse Of The Crying Woman (1961)
Ray Danton: Deathmaster (1972)*
Ray Dennis Steckler: Wild Guitar (1962)*, The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living And Became Mixed-Up Zombies (1963)*, Rat Pfink A Boo Boo (1964)*, The Thrill Killers (1965)*, Lemon Grove Kids Meet The Monsters (1968)*, Body Fever (1969)*
Reginald Harkema: Leslie, My Name Is Evil (2009)
Rene Clement: And Hope To Die (1972)
Rene Daalder: Population: 1 (1986)
Richard Brooks: Bite The Bullet (1975)
Richard Fleischer: The Spikes Gang (1974)*
Richard Kelly: Donnie Darko (2001), Southland Tales (2006)
Richard Stanley: Color Out Of Space (2019)
Rick Sloane: The Visitants (1986)
Riley Stearns: The Art Of Self-Defense (2019)
Rob Nilsson: Gotta Be Otto: (A Film About Going to See a Film) (1970)
Rob Reiner: Stand By Me (1986)*
Robert Aldrich: Ten Seconds To Hell (1959), ...All The Marbles (1981)
Robert Allen Schnitzer: The Premonition (1975)
Robert Clouse: Gymkata (1985)*
Robert Gordon: The Gatling Gun (1971)*
Robert M. Young: Rich Kids (1979)
Robert Michael Lewis: Pray For The Wildcats (1974) (TV)
Robert Siodmak: Cobra Woman (1944)*, Cry Of The City (1948)*
Robert Voskanian: The Child (1977)*
Robert W. Morgan: Blood Stalkers (1976)
Robert Warmflash: Death Promise (1977)*
Roger Vadim: Les Liaisons Dangereuses 1960 (1959)
Roland Klick: Supermarkt (1974)
Ron Howard: The Paper (1994)
Roy Rowland: The Moonlighter (1953)
Rudolph Cusumano: Wild Ones On Wheels (1962)*
Ruggero Deodato: The Concorde Affair (1979)
Russ Marker: The Yesterday Machine (1963)
Ryan Mains: Ferris's Room (2018)

Sam Mendes: 1917 (2019)
Sam Wanamaker: Catlow (1971)*
Sarah Kelly: Full Tilt Boogie (1997)
Satyajit Ray: The Home And The World (1984)
Sergei Goncharoff: House Of Terror (1973)
Sergio Corbucci: The Slave (1962), The Specialists (1970), Odds And Evens (1978)
Sergio Martino: The Strange Vice Of Mrs. Wardh (1971)
Shirley Clarke: Ornette: Made In America (1985)*
Sidney J. Furie: A Cool Sound From Hell (1959)
Sidney Lumet: The Offence (1973)
Stephen Roberts: Cheer Up (1924)
Steven Spielberg: The Post (2017)
Stuart Millar: Rooster Cogburn (1975)*
Susan Seidelman: Smithereens (1982)*, Desperately Seeking Susan (1985)*, Making Mr. Right (1987)
Sydney Pollack: This Property Is Condemned (1966), The Scalphunters (1968)*

Tara Johns: The Year Dolly Parton Was My Mom (2011)
Ted Kotcheff: Billy Two Hats (1974)*
Ted V. Mikels: Girl In Gold Boots (1968)*
Teresa Prata: Sleepwalking Land (2007)
Theodore Gershuny: Sugar Cookies (1973)
Theodore Melfi: Hidden Figures (2016)*
Thomas Michael Donnelly: Quicksilver (1986)
Tom Buckingham: The Two Johns (1923)
Tom Clegg: Sweeney 2 (1978)
Tom Gries: Number One (1969)
Tom Moore: Mark Of The Witch (1970)
Tsuneo Kobayashi: Four Hours Of Terror (1959)

Umberto Lenzi: Orgasmo (1968), So Sweet… So Perverse (1969)

Věra Chytilová: Daisies (1966)
Vernon Zimmerman: Fade To Black (1980)
Vincente Minnelli: The Sandpiper (1965)

Wally Campo: Mark Of The Gun (1969)*
Wayne Wang: Slam Dance (1987)*
William K. Howard: Mary Burns, Fugitive (1935)
William Beaudine: Why Wild Men Go Wild (1920)
William Davidson: The Ivy League Killers (1959)
William Wiard: Tom Horn (1980)*
Wolf Rilla: Roadhouse Girl (1953), The Large Rope (1953)
Worth Keeter: Lady Grey (1980)

Zelda Barron: Shag (1989)

(no director credited): An Eye For Figures (1920)

4) Best Ofs... and other lists.

The Best "First Time Viewings" Of 2020

i) Creme de la creme

Yi Yi (Edward Yang) 

The Devil and Daniel Johnston (Jeff Feuerzig)

Lacombe, Lucien (Louis Malle)

Parasite (Bong Joon-ho)

Only Angels Have Wings (Howard Hawks) 

Bite the Bullet (Richard Brooks)

Gaz Bar Blues (Louis Belanger)

Antoine and Antoinette (Jacques Becker)

Bacurau (Kleber Mendonca Filho, Juliano Dornelles)

And Hope to Die (Rene Clement)

The Shape of Water (Guillermo del Toro)

Air Force (Howard Hawks)

Rich Kids (Robert M. Young) 

One Week (Buster Keaton, Edward F. Cline)

ii) Honourable Mentions

Cameraperson (Kirsten Johnson)

Let's Scare Jessica to Death (John Hancock)

Dark August (Martin Goldman)

Perfect Friday (Peter Hall)

Young Americans (Alexander Grasshoff)

Fly Jefferson Airplane (Bob Sarles)

Word Is Out: Stories of Some of Our Lives (Peter Adair, Lucy Massie Phenix, Veronica Selver, Andrew Brown, Rob Epstein)

Murder by Contract (Irving Lerner)

The Vast of Night (Andrew Patterson)

The Grand Bizarre (Jodie Mack)

The Balloonatic (Buster Keaton, Edward F. Cline)

Quixote (Bruce Baillie)

Mass for the Dakota Sioux (Bruce Baillie)

International Sweethearts of Rhythm (Greta Schiller, Andrea Weiss)

Lady Bird (Greta Gerwig)

Bent Time (Barbara Hammer)

Vever (For Barbara) (Deborah Stratman)

Gone to Earth (Michael Powell, Emeric Pressburger)

iii) New "Midnight, Cult, Whatever" Discoveries

I loathe the phrase "Guilty Pleasures", which is commonly used to describe B-movies, cult films, or whatever, as if to say that someone should be ashamed of watching these movies. Well, ESR's mandate that "all films matter" has no use for cultural snobbery like that. In fact, many "imperfect" movies such as these offer more memorable and original moments of cinema than other more mainstream, antiseptic (better?) film offerings.

Hell Squad (Kenneth Hartford) - awesome "all-girl team of mercenaries made from showgirls" action.

Cruel Jaws (Bruno Mattei) - amazing Italian Jaws rip-off

Dr. Frankenstein on Campus (Gilbert W. Taylor) - unsung Canadian horror, made at U of T!

Bahía blanca (Jess Franco) - a restoration of an unsung Franco film that begs comparison to a Howard Hawks "hangout" movie.

Action U.S.A. (John Stewart) - more than what the generic title implies, very entertaining, with stunts galore.

Fade to Black (Vernon Zimmerman) - rather ingenious parable of movie love taken to the extreme.

Dead End Drive-In (Brian Trenchard-Smith) - pretty brilliant post-Apoc fable.

iv) Best Revivals of 2020

Before March's lockdown, we still had ten weeks of "normalcy" in the film community last year. Here are the noteworthy revivals I managed to see during that time, thanks to second-run venues and independent cinema-screening collectives.

A Cool Sound From Hell - Long-lost Sidney J. Furie JD film, presented with live jazz band, personal appearance by Phil Nimmons, aged 96, who had scored the movie back in 1958, and Skype interview with director Furie, live from a post-production facility, still working at age 86!

Partners - Ultra-obscure film from Don Owen (Nobody Waved Goodbye), presented as part of U of T's "Toronto Film Review" screenings, with the director's son in attendance to provide some insights.

Tribute To Barbara Hammer - Retrospective of works by Barbara Hammer (see her titles above), who had recently passed away, presented by the CFMDC. Included was Deborah Stratman's Vever (For Barbara), a marvellous tribute film.

Edward Owens - Part of the TIFF Wavelength series, a trio of hard-to-find independent shorts by Edward Owens (see titles above).

5) Thank You

We haven't forgotten about you; we hope you haven't forgotten about us. The light is coming, let's continue hanging in there, being safe, and supporting each other however we can, so that we can reunite in person sooner rather than later. 

Thanks for taking the trip with us. 

All my very best - peace.

Greg