tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90310852024-03-16T14:49:29.565-04:00The Eclectic Screening Room Film JournalThe online companion to the film zine, <i>The Eclectic Screening Room</i>: cult, independent, experimental, foreign-language films, and interesting genre cinema from yesteryear.Greg Woodshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07781308526267978337noreply@blogger.comBlogger316125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031085.post-44188566819653722202022-07-30T08:01:00.007-04:002022-07-30T08:03:24.062-04:00Mid-Course Correction<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmirp7EHOEr8H5XHv_PBkAue9j6XdRxs0lnKIA27fU3YQXMx1GSGuke_QUf4-9hSVVwFfGOG9rOBVOIoxDI-9HbGfeK8a1tb0vtQioEg9CmRY6gh05JtiTvlShwyL-a5kvu3LzoPWuNIMdoy6Z2Pkj9fH3zqbOQcpKxVuMtS4wvd5IHeVwgLo/s1200/89712795_10158096337774819_8443683039946473472_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1200" height="332" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmirp7EHOEr8H5XHv_PBkAue9j6XdRxs0lnKIA27fU3YQXMx1GSGuke_QUf4-9hSVVwFfGOG9rOBVOIoxDI-9HbGfeK8a1tb0vtQioEg9CmRY6gh05JtiTvlShwyL-a5kvu3LzoPWuNIMdoy6Z2Pkj9fH3zqbOQcpKxVuMtS4wvd5IHeVwgLo/w400-h266/89712795_10158096337774819_8443683039946473472_n.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Welp. The 2022 Mount Unwatched project has, thus far, been underwhelming on several levels. JC Culp’s contributions have been few and far between (although I’ve added them to the site, still password-protected and not yet viewable to the public), and my own enthusiasm has waned, in part because I had picked some mediocre movies from the pile, and also because my neck injury in the spring had hampered my writing and enthusiasm. And then we were informed, on Father’s Day no less, that this house will be put up for sale in the fall, so now much of my time and energy is spent on packing, cleaning and looking for a place to live, after 25+ years here. A couple of weeks ago we did the first significant part of a huge cleanup: donating a pile of stuff (including boxes and boxes of books), and hurriedly boxing more stuff up to quickly put in storage. There is still stuff to sell or whatever, but it will be easier to decide what goes where once we know what the space of our new place will be like.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><p style="text-align: justify;">This is after all a blog about cinema, yet all of this of course affects the ability to view films and properly write about them. So, once things settle down after we find our new pad, I’ll look forward to revisiting this project in greater detail. For several reasons, the move is a blessing in disguise. For instance, it will be the life renewal we need - to revisit things we used to do and love that we’ve forgotten, and not just because of the pandemic. Where this project is concerned, I think it will also be a win-win situation, as I’ve had to learn to downsize, stop being a pack rat, and thereby be more appreciative of things. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">And yet again, 2022 is shaping up to be another year of closure. This of course is a byproduct of getting older, as places and routines we become accustomed to fade over time. <br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Case in point. A couple of weekends ago, I had a rental car. By sheer coincidence I had learned at the same time that Don was retiring from his 37-year stint as the owner-proprietor of Dixie Records, at the Fantastic Flea Market, which operates every weekend in the basement of the Dixie Outlet Mall, and is selling everything at 50% off. For over ten years, whenever I had a rental car, I’d make a pit stop in Mississauga, and would always leave with a bag full of DVDs or CDs from Dixie Records. Upon learning of Don’s retirement (the shop’s last day will be July 31), I trucked out there that Sunday morning. (The last time I was there was also the last time I drove a car before the pandemic: January, 2020!)<br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">I wanted this final “Dixie Records Pick” to be emblematic of what I used to go there for: good deals on DVD, and Canadian jazz CDs. If you think jazz is a hard sell, Canadian jazz is even worse! There is tons of Canadian jazz out there that just doesn’t sell: few have heard it, and its history is poorly documented. (I hope to contribute to leaving an internet fingerprint about it by beginning to review them on the revived Gee Whiz G-Man blog… another “Fall Renewal” project.) As a result, a lot of fine Canadian jazz music ends up being sold by Don for two or three bucks. Even at this remove, a lot of stuff had already been picked over, but I was satisfied with my haul. I bought some $1.00 jazz and blues CDs (actually 50 cents to me, as they were half off), and a few movies.<br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Although Don hadn’t seen me in 30 months, he remembered me, even with my mask on. At the end, we shook hands with a “thanks for everything over the years”. Another favourite pastime gone. Golden years, my foot.<br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">This is a film blog after all, so what did I get at Dixie? Okay. These ranged from one to five dollars each. <i>Girls Just Wanna Have Fun</i> and <i>From The Hip</i> (ahem, because these were both Anchor Bay releases); Paramount John Wayne double-feature of <i>The Sons of Katie Elder</i> and <i>The Shootist</i>; double-feature of <i>American Graffiti</i> and <i>More American Graffiti </i>(is this the version with the digitized sunset? I hope not, but can’t complain at that price… stop pricking around with your movies, George); Jerry Goldsmith DVD (got this for Simon, who’s a big Goldsmith fan); Gus Van Sant’s first film <i>Mala Noche</i> (Criterion!); <i>The Gary Cooper Collection</i> (a five-movie set that was one of those Franchise Collections… I’ve seen similar ones for Rock Hudson, Marlon Brando, etc., this one was worth it alone for <i>Beau Geste</i> and <i>The Lives of a Bengal Lancer</i>, especially for that price).</p>Greg Woodshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07781308526267978337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031085.post-58171790078883788822022-01-01T14:46:00.001-05:002022-01-01T14:46:11.649-05:00ANNOUNCING THE 2022 MOUNT UNWATCHED® CHALLENGE!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgKCiBLzYNEkUfL7d27BNqEqIRRnU-twmII_LTY7ibOhof3Jv6g7J6rY9LGGTFlhR5RZh5_2MtsFBh_oO2PwKMY-E19L5ou9wG6s2SuoAbbFbPCr-KCyfKfzHBl5X6tjNkQNM4XEOToy5T5clCv-FNdA7B2AxDKpDDi8Yttswzkmvy7pIM2s-npw__o=s625" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="387" data-original-width="625" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgKCiBLzYNEkUfL7d27BNqEqIRRnU-twmII_LTY7ibOhof3Jv6g7J6rY9LGGTFlhR5RZh5_2MtsFBh_oO2PwKMY-E19L5ou9wG6s2SuoAbbFbPCr-KCyfKfzHBl5X6tjNkQNM4XEOToy5T5clCv-FNdA7B2AxDKpDDi8Yttswzkmvy7pIM2s-npw__o=w400-h248" width="400" /></a></div>For years, Greg Woods, JC Culp and some fellow cinemavens have used the catchphrase Mount Unwatched® to describe that daunting pile of untouched movies in our ever-growing collections. “Have you seen (insert title here)?” “No, but it’s on Mount Unwatched.”<p></p><p>Well, we are thrilled to announce 2022 as “the” year in which we take control of our collections (and lives) by scaling these towers of unwatched movies, videos and TV shows. Then we will post reviews of what we watch! Mused about for years, the <b>Mount Unwatched® Challenge</b> comes alive in 2022!</p><p style="text-align: center;">* * * * *</p><p>Sound like fun? YOU can take part too! </p><p>If you have stacks of movies waiting to be watched, by all means, start digging through them and post your thoughts on your blog or website, and send us the link! <br />We’ll gather links to all related reviews and send them out in a monthly Mount Unwatched Report! (Gee, we sound like Loblaws.) Welcome aboard! </p><p>Here is what can be included in the Mount Unwatched® Challenge: any factory-pressed physical media that you own: feature films, shorts, even TV episodes, that you have on DVD, Blu-ray, VHS… even film prints, if you’re so inclined. </p><p>NOT included are stuff on hard drives, USB thumb drives (you get the idea); AVIs, MP4s or any computer files; homemade VHS or DVD-Rs (ie- off-air recordings). (Sorry, but we had to draw the line somewhere. And obviously, theatrical and streaming are off the table, as we don’t “own” copies of them.)</p><p>Otherwise our only condition is, these must be FIRST TIME viewings. Everyone is taken at their word - including us! </p><p>We also encourage people to include things like how and why they acquired these titles (if they remember), and how they feel about finally getting around to view them.</p><p>Send your links, or questions, to: mountunwatched at gmail dot com</p><p>Want to participate, but don’t have a blog or website? No problem- reach out to us at the address above, we’ll post it on our site for you, with accreditation to you.</p><p>Thanks for reading, and stay tuned as JC, Greg, and the homebound masses recount their trek up Mount Unwatched®! </p><p>(PS- that image is meant to be representative; it was NOT taken at any of our houses.) </p>Greg Woodshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07781308526267978337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031085.post-72303927045578385522021-09-26T10:30:00.135-04:002021-09-27T11:06:38.603-04:0010 + 10<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0P7kM_kflgoo7vUKfn0LKMHjv-kEccvmQXt-bAk3Rn3UomBB7vAyd60k3ba6NRWFGpg1KicW2zb95KuzXuHZtjSF-3PDu2nL7KU2Jb6asYwrfmQhHtJh-zgcFHfBkKdFw-r-nNA/s2048/333196_170256386390240_1033767608_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0P7kM_kflgoo7vUKfn0LKMHjv-kEccvmQXt-bAk3Rn3UomBB7vAyd60k3ba6NRWFGpg1KicW2zb95KuzXuHZtjSF-3PDu2nL7KU2Jb6asYwrfmQhHtJh-zgcFHfBkKdFw-r-nNA/w400-h300/333196_170256386390240_1033767608_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Although technically the date was yesterday, it was ten years ago this Sunday when the <i>10th Anniversary Issue</i> of ESR debuted at Toronto's <i>Word on the Street</i>. 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. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">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.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">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. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">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.</div><p></p>Greg Woodshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07781308526267978337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031085.post-29315124722345012912021-09-19T15:41:00.020-04:002021-09-20T15:46:45.882-04:00Farewell to Grindhouse Purgatory?<div class="separator"><a align="right" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgofxAdETcEntnT9MdcHAw4lG9A-fJl3RBbUw1ZsJTodoMzFMxJqn5eRm48eoJcVw8K7hiaTg9sJ3HaCBGW4317uJLREPAefL3_wqsDGO7s_AIO-kPvtypgNULiqsoDPsqMPz7koQ/s381/gp20.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="381" data-original-width="300" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgofxAdETcEntnT9MdcHAw4lG9A-fJl3RBbUw1ZsJTodoMzFMxJqn5eRm48eoJcVw8K7hiaTg9sJ3HaCBGW4317uJLREPAefL3_wqsDGO7s_AIO-kPvtypgNULiqsoDPsqMPz7koQ/s320/gp20.jpg" width="252" /></a></div>
<p style="text-align: justify;">It comes with a heavy heart to announce that the twentieth issue of <i>Grindhouse Purgatory</i>, published by Pete Chiarella, will be its last... for now, anyway.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">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.
</p><p style="text-align: justify;">After that show wrapped, Pete had taken part in the mid-2010s renaissance of film zine publishing, with <i>Grindhouse Purgatory</i>. 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 href="https://www.amazon.ca/Whole-Bag-Crazy-Hookers-Grindhouse/dp/1985824132/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=a+whole+bag+of+crazy&qid=1632151100&s=books&sr=1-1" target="new">A Whole Bag of Crazy</a>, with wild stories of his life in the Deuce and beyond. What is more, he created <a href="https://www.youtube.com/c/42ndStPetesGrindhousePurgatory" target="new">a YouTube channel</a>, 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.)
</p><p style="text-align: justify;">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 <i>con</i> 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.
</p><p style="text-align: justify;">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 <i>Grindhouse Purgatory</i> with his latest issue, <a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Grindhouse-Purgatory-20-Pete-Chiarella-ebook/dp/B09FXCCRHX/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=grindhouse+purgatory&qid=1632149071&s=books&sr=1-1" target="new">that you can purchase here</a>, 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. </p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p>Greg Woodshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07781308526267978337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031085.post-27578731034268516872021-09-15T15:37:00.005-04:002021-09-20T15:41:40.708-04:00Cinéma de minuit<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmK_-c3p6hUAqNEOSpnLyDkXtJHON1pmEBjoumm6Cwhcp2vI8j5DuMuSIe110eQL45BEFJ6sajYH1PLxeU2QzIGbEUSJIiyxxom9MQva-nbUb-aEqWUdP7zpr8M0HpsH6BTaH9PQ/s378/brion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="378" data-original-width="300" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmK_-c3p6hUAqNEOSpnLyDkXtJHON1pmEBjoumm6Cwhcp2vI8j5DuMuSIe110eQL45BEFJ6sajYH1PLxeU2QzIGbEUSJIiyxxom9MQva-nbUb-aEqWUdP7zpr8M0HpsH6BTaH9PQ/s320/brion.jpg" width="254" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This past week, I've been watching Bertrand Tavernier's marvellous eight-hour documentary, <i>Journeys Through French Cinema</i>, 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 <i>Cinéma de minuit</i>, hosted by Patrick Brion.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">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.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Patrick Brion is also an author of numerous film books, including works on Richard Brooks and Clint Eastwood. In commemoration of <i>Cinéma de minui</i>t'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 <i>Grit</i> first. </p>Greg Woodshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07781308526267978337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031085.post-76437991743534153692021-07-09T11:05:00.003-04:002021-07-09T11:05:56.767-04:00If I Had To Do It Over...<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVFFpckRqDuprl17J961qpfTy4gKCw2GHuZyn_ZeS70VGSml11_l4AJzLI8VhcF5WkfrmEYMx0QI_8qpc3bEzANWa9rYedw8BIVmDoPRJe4-N04oxy62Ir3Wz7-iDhVConDYoWCQ/s400/esr16.jpg" style="clear: left; display: block; float: left; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: justify;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="315" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVFFpckRqDuprl17J961qpfTy4gKCw2GHuZyn_ZeS70VGSml11_l4AJzLI8VhcF5WkfrmEYMx0QI_8qpc3bEzANWa9rYedw8BIVmDoPRJe4-N04oxy62Ir3Wz7-iDhVConDYoWCQ/s320/esr16.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">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. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">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. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">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. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">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.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">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.</div>Greg Woodshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07781308526267978337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031085.post-75277477588524827792021-03-09T09:54:00.005-05:002021-03-09T10:01:00.626-05:00Painting John Porter<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ7C14b57IevnUMKVd9ZgHlkHmznpwYNJ0iYpsDD0Aby8QzCLdcoAckKc4sAIccg83FYlY5EUcdlnXNZWxygn3KbGKrAAk74_tQaRTpdFyBGqHf7xYgr-_iejsghpUHTVf_3hrmw/s611/porter4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="459" data-original-width="611" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ7C14b57IevnUMKVd9ZgHlkHmznpwYNJ0iYpsDD0Aby8QzCLdcoAckKc4sAIccg83FYlY5EUcdlnXNZWxygn3KbGKrAAk74_tQaRTpdFyBGqHf7xYgr-_iejsghpUHTVf_3hrmw/w400-h300/porter4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">I was "yesterday" years old upon learning that John Porter had a documentary made about him. In 2001, a 12-minute video, <i>Painting Porter</i>, 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 <a href="http://super8porter.ca" target="_blank">super8porter.ca</a>, which he has maintained since 2005. To the novice, <i>Painting Porter</i> 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 <i>Amusement Park</i> or <i>Landscape</i>) or "Camera Dances" (studies in movement like <i>Down On Me</i> and <i>Cinefuge</i>). 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.)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">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 <a href="http://www.cogcollective.co.uk/february/index.html" target="_blank">here</a>. The direct link for <i>Painting Porter</i> is <a href="http://www.cogcollective.co.uk/february/portermovie.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</div>Greg Woodshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07781308526267978337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031085.post-29202899558472974882021-03-08T09:40:00.002-05:002021-03-08T09:42:05.448-05:00[VHS Mondays] Truth In Advertising?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRzkOslJl-41QLJSkHPDDPzWJJnNYHoG59DHzkhIKFY5VSsjhXXVQRq2rTpeiOppMX_q_vSPEdyryKcMeG5XBNtcE3nEvRzUw-kSfvt2N2KX-VM9iW8Epo5HjtRBGxZdG2Sb3pzA/s2048/886399_10151938256375535_1603006872_o.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1130" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRzkOslJl-41QLJSkHPDDPzWJJnNYHoG59DHzkhIKFY5VSsjhXXVQRq2rTpeiOppMX_q_vSPEdyryKcMeG5XBNtcE3nEvRzUw-kSfvt2N2KX-VM9iW8Epo5HjtRBGxZdG2Sb3pzA/w221-h400/886399_10151938256375535_1603006872_o.jpg" width="221" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">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.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">In all my years of VHS hunting, though, this box (pictured here) takes the cake. <i>Mysteries Of The Gods</i> 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 <i>Chariots Of The Gods?</i> 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 <i>Star Trek</i> TV series and the movies, when he racked up a lot of genre credits and TV appearances to pay the bills. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">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 <i>Star Trek</i>'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.</p>Greg Woodshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07781308526267978337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031085.post-59658400538150082802021-03-07T13:16:00.005-05:002021-03-07T13:22:17.188-05:00[Sinister Saturdays] The Seven Faces Of Bannai Tarao, Private Eye<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV_7ZmQLcR-yIzyQ9dGfe7BIfbghKeMQJlBVblhjSaJq9Gj5bW-K6_wimQSvdstN2KL5lRWkgpdj1ou3xtR_Fe6musLB9Rsd7O5EF57fpPb0wUwWN15KR8vnuF9cmMfaioi3Tsjg/s1024/BANNER+LOGO.0.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="256" data-original-width="1024" height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV_7ZmQLcR-yIzyQ9dGfe7BIfbghKeMQJlBVblhjSaJq9Gj5bW-K6_wimQSvdstN2KL5lRWkgpdj1ou3xtR_Fe6musLB9Rsd7O5EF57fpPb0wUwWN15KR8vnuF9cmMfaioi3Tsjg/w400-h100/BANNER+LOGO.0.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">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! </p><p style="text-align: justify;">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, <i>Sinister Saturdays</i> is an ongoing series, sampling some of the wonderful discoveries found in the Sinister Cinema catalog. </p><p style="text-align: center;">---</p><p style="text-align: left;"><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguRD71emLokUcBMbgRvb763EhGVFFFhhyybZ_PsUpGrvietgTX-jWlrjL3xzJrJz7i3VWYC7lRRuaFKLTBMLR-bN_IekESqmNptTR5MBT3j5SnxgZrvtzeZj3W1tr46qUoPxplQA/s345/320176-the-seven-faces-of-bannai-tarao-private-eye-0-230-0-345-crop.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="345" data-original-width="230" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguRD71emLokUcBMbgRvb763EhGVFFFhhyybZ_PsUpGrvietgTX-jWlrjL3xzJrJz7i3VWYC7lRRuaFKLTBMLR-bN_IekESqmNptTR5MBT3j5SnxgZrvtzeZj3W1tr46qUoPxplQA/s320/320176-the-seven-faces-of-bannai-tarao-private-eye-0-230-0-345-crop.jpg" /></a></b></div><b>The Seven Faces Of Bannai Tarao, Private Eye</b><br />(Japan, 1956) 85 min B&W<br />Directors: Sadatsugu Matsuda, Tsuneo Kobayashi.<p></p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">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.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">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. </p><p style="text-align: left;">Each of this film's two directors are showcased elsewhere in the Sinister catalog: Sadatsugu Matsuda's <i>Foul Play</i> (1955) is another Bannai Tarao film; <span style="text-align: left;">Tsuneo Kobayashi's </span><span style="text-align: left;"><i>Four Hours Of Terror </i></span>(<span style="text-align: left;">1959) is a nifty airplane thriller. <i>The </i></span><span style="text-align: left;"><i>Seven Faces Of Bannai Tarao, Private Eye</i> 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.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: left;"><i>Till next time...</i></span></p>Greg Woodshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07781308526267978337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031085.post-25762329187793537412021-03-06T21:41:00.005-05:002021-03-06T21:52:29.459-05:00[Fringe Fridays] Adolfas Mekas + David Avallone<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8KAcQhCJKtpp_vga-g4HKUOsqJrLMjt2-PFNRUmW2B31LHYulaxz8TkIyAdrA646GvLuFkkMDKbIWI3lgD3DypakVdux-26TMI5kjeQYE_hR0YNGvsJQV8ObyKHUHILm7ClJYyw/s550/hallelujah%252B2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="357" data-original-width="550" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8KAcQhCJKtpp_vga-g4HKUOsqJrLMjt2-PFNRUmW2B31LHYulaxz8TkIyAdrA646GvLuFkkMDKbIWI3lgD3DypakVdux-26TMI5kjeQYE_hR0YNGvsJQV8ObyKHUHILm7ClJYyw/s16000/hallelujah%252B2.jpg" /></a></div><p></p>
<p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: justify;">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!</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;">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. </p>
<p style="text-align: center;">---</p><p style="text-align: left;"><b style="text-align: left;">Hallelujah The Hills </b><br style="text-align: left;" /><span style="text-align: left;">(USA, 1963) Dir: Adolfas Mekas.</span><br style="text-align: left;" /><span style="text-align: left;">82 min B&W</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Jonas Mekas was a more prolific filmmaker, and perhaps more "the voice" of the New American Cinema. But he co-founded the influential <i>Film Culture</i> 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!</p><p style="text-align: justify;">A self-confessed homage to the cinema that has influenced him (even abruptly lifting the classic "ice floe" sequence from Griffith's <i>Way Down East</i>) Adolfas Mekas' <i>Hallelujah The Hills </i>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 <i>That Obscure Object Of Desire </i>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 (<i>Thanatopsis</i>), 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 <i>Citizen Kane-</i> 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 <i>Movie Journal </i>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.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>Added Attractions!</b></p><p><b>An Interview With Ambassador From Lapland</b><br>(USA, 1967) Dir: Adolfas Mekas.<br>4 min colour</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span>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!</span></p><p><b>Hallelujah The Villa</b><br />(Italy, 2006) Dir: David Avallone.<br />27 min colour</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">This </span><span style="text-align: left;">has a lot more going on than the typical format of a DVD extra.</span><span style="text-align: left;"> This 27-minute opus apes the same goofy style of its inspiration, as </span><span style="text-align: left;">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. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">More next time!</span></p>Greg Woodshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07781308526267978337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031085.post-42387260554908343272021-01-18T14:44:00.001-05:002021-01-18T14:46:35.110-05:00I'm Famous! Kind of...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDSPh-pTBv7sVorIIrqVdrG1U4uj1KE7h55GJC_8rr8BDLwbkHLOk5F6_jpI3RTb42p4vND9DMuApAkUrXTmPsS40CjB0fjKPUtGu7F_Sqkp65f2eAeBPkjXgraM8ZRjh9ttINbw/s960/138593247_10222182044211697_3706709542918293049_n.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDSPh-pTBv7sVorIIrqVdrG1U4uj1KE7h55GJC_8rr8BDLwbkHLOk5F6_jpI3RTb42p4vND9DMuApAkUrXTmPsS40CjB0fjKPUtGu7F_Sqkp65f2eAeBPkjXgraM8ZRjh9ttINbw/s320/138593247_10222182044211697_3706709542918293049_n.jpg" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">Yours truly rates a mention in the latest issue of <i>Delirium</i> magazine. In his <i>Video Store Confidential! </i>column, Suspect Video's Luis Ceriz continues his overview of zine history with <i>Part 2: The Canucks! </i>His article includes such vintage titles from the 1980s-90s film zine boom as <i>Trash Compactor</i>, <i>Sub-Terrenea</i>, <i>Tame</i>, etc. Even recent pubs like <i>The Laser Blast Film Society</i> rate a mention, in reference to the "zine" renaissance of late. </p><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Alas, ESR doesn't get a mention, but the first (and so far, only) issue of my other zine <i>Eurofantasmo!</i> is featured in the article. <i>Eurofantasmo! </i>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! <i>Eurofantasmo! </i>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.)</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Since that birthday screening-zine launch party, I've given out issues of <i>Eurofantasmo! #1 </i>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. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">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.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">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. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">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 <i>Eurofantasmo!</i> has done that. Thanks Luis, for the plug.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Look for <i>Delirium</i> wherever magazines are sold.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioFlwYT8QXHq3GCuwED7geBI4spHytBvFlBUHUQxg1C9hcSWl4A94iQA-_LqB9JkcEflSiFKrvfA-McMT4y4bOkteKsayRx41M68y0yvpyLws6oCiMJWh_BRhwG-k1Qbzatb-mSA/s960/137656287_10222182044451703_1404343816067524759_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioFlwYT8QXHq3GCuwED7geBI4spHytBvFlBUHUQxg1C9hcSWl4A94iQA-_LqB9JkcEflSiFKrvfA-McMT4y4bOkteKsayRx41M68y0yvpyLws6oCiMJWh_BRhwG-k1Qbzatb-mSA/w300-h400/137656287_10222182044451703_1404343816067524759_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicZiZcGWniy_7PUtjFVOVRziPmWV7Ic27SBlwGFJxo61ru3G3-am-bs_jSo97omqkLv7ipdt9QG92bVx-xAZQ1y7Y1cLlql19NVAnkTrre0C5qiBeTnUk2W-Qhm2nCc2tBaK2Dww/s960/138042256_10222182044731710_967552651339485171_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicZiZcGWniy_7PUtjFVOVRziPmWV7Ic27SBlwGFJxo61ru3G3-am-bs_jSo97omqkLv7ipdt9QG92bVx-xAZQ1y7Y1cLlql19NVAnkTrre0C5qiBeTnUk2W-Qhm2nCc2tBaK2Dww/w300-h400/138042256_10222182044731710_967552651339485171_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><p></p>Greg Woodshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07781308526267978337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031085.post-28825997012815459172021-01-11T19:39:00.003-05:002021-08-19T09:39:14.308-04:00[VHS Mondays] Teenage Theater<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1cu3V-O7rHPqDA4qINhhBfsNhnd2IioXIs38nirgyrCRC3COjxJycwNcALshrEMVz95MvGTyuWzKWo0xmD1UZFL2bxmSA-Q8DaU8GN2IWBD9sKiebPjXd3JqpAJXVMbN4_xRDWg/s641/tt.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="478" data-original-width="641" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1cu3V-O7rHPqDA4qINhhBfsNhnd2IioXIs38nirgyrCRC3COjxJycwNcALshrEMVz95MvGTyuWzKWo0xmD1UZFL2bxmSA-Q8DaU8GN2IWBD9sKiebPjXd3JqpAJXVMbN4_xRDWg/s320/tt.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">In 1987, the amazing Rhino Home Video released a series of vintage 1950s juvenile delinquent and rockabilly films under the banner, <i>Teenage Theater. </i>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! </p><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">The titles included: Arch Hall Jr.'s classic <i>Wild Guitar</i>, Roger Corman's <i>Carnival Rock, </i>the docu-drama cautionary tale <i>Teenage Devil Dolls</i>, John Ashley as <i>High School Caesar</i>, the Texas-lensed rockabilly film <i>Rock Baby Rock It</i> and the "teenagers on the lam" gem, <i>Naked Youth. </i>Another title in the Teenage Theater banner was <i>The Violent Years</i>, 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 <i>Golden Turkey Awards</i> book, the compilation film<i> It Came From Hollywood</i>, and revivals of <i>Plan 9 From Outer Space</i> and <i>Glen Or Glenda</i>. VHS brought a second life to many vintage titles, and arguably helped find first-time audiences for forgotten films. The VHS release of <i>The Violent Years</i> 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, <i>Teenage Confidential</i>: a terrific compendium of vintage JD trailers and excerpts, masterminded by showman and rockabilly institution, Johnny Legend. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaywPBSqz8s86jhr8AgZEgGzO9D-fKoHGQENhqzpgNTjraUacPt-iOWFMjVRGUi0kBOMO3axRDOrx0yBNKgH-uA_ux9VGzI9ZV-YI36pUXD2CQiyXmI7tmtjGcZ2CD0IsYW0UVXw/s638/mvd2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="638" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaywPBSqz8s86jhr8AgZEgGzO9D-fKoHGQENhqzpgNTjraUacPt-iOWFMjVRGUi0kBOMO3axRDOrx0yBNKgH-uA_ux9VGzI9ZV-YI36pUXD2CQiyXmI7tmtjGcZ2CD0IsYW0UVXw/s320/mvd2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyMRr06OKuy9UMfmcoNmTgxeZOF1i0aUNzjl8QSukDhCHPAYg8QoEhNwK_W2dX6g1xaXWQY-w01IqpaEaIEVe6KQM1EhsBdkVFnXNNd00g0fJ0JzzYBT7obrIriNzf12iPChdbkw/s641/mvd.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="475" data-original-width="641" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyMRr06OKuy9UMfmcoNmTgxeZOF1i0aUNzjl8QSukDhCHPAYg8QoEhNwK_W2dX6g1xaXWQY-w01IqpaEaIEVe6KQM1EhsBdkVFnXNNd00g0fJ0JzzYBT7obrIriNzf12iPChdbkw/s320/mvd.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">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 <i>Battle Of The Bombs</i> (a "best of the worst" compendium), <i>Bambi Meets Godzilla And Other Weird Cartoons</i>, <i>Dope Mania</i> (bet you can guess what that is), and of course, the <i>Sleazemania</i> 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.) </p><p style="text-align: center;">The Teenage Theater Gallery (click on any box to see them bigger in a lightbox)</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG_FGP-iPuGwGBVFA1-Bk2nnjqi77ewKXpSQa9ES4k1NQOLB5xgpifKPlKeS2ArLnAHldFX7ZVbrBLenSDpQTE9qXEUiCLyxcdIJjCM9QBdadp0_lRsFUaCWW6gV0fhx_llZG2-w/s2048/cr-front.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1125" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG_FGP-iPuGwGBVFA1-Bk2nnjqi77ewKXpSQa9ES4k1NQOLB5xgpifKPlKeS2ArLnAHldFX7ZVbrBLenSDpQTE9qXEUiCLyxcdIJjCM9QBdadp0_lRsFUaCWW6gV0fhx_llZG2-w/s320/cr-front.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMvfHBLy-kvfGTjeFsiDcQsATh5mVsfqKv3ZGue4eh6BtUkxiLPVf5CwrRS1BdR7bbadfWqbGdvGi9M5fmiV-8eR8DV2ZjdglqcSAusa0n-w85v374V4Jc6BZhUwCHn05qp86ZoA/s2048/cr-back.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1125" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMvfHBLy-kvfGTjeFsiDcQsATh5mVsfqKv3ZGue4eh6BtUkxiLPVf5CwrRS1BdR7bbadfWqbGdvGi9M5fmiV-8eR8DV2ZjdglqcSAusa0n-w85v374V4Jc6BZhUwCHn05qp86ZoA/s320/cr-back.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMta3MvS_bZ4lQJUHqejxGTZ2KzoT1FZnUs62pVSqS4Iab7KT1dgVluG-fbpparaFbheatyPrRR1_K99vwV5JhA28d5EuJWzugRCwiPRk7NRCND2yLLw5CPr9XT-hijzKoyka3Ig/s2048/hcc-front.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1133" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMta3MvS_bZ4lQJUHqejxGTZ2KzoT1FZnUs62pVSqS4Iab7KT1dgVluG-fbpparaFbheatyPrRR1_K99vwV5JhA28d5EuJWzugRCwiPRk7NRCND2yLLw5CPr9XT-hijzKoyka3Ig/s320/hcc-front.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPcUp4o3WjIZYacJAcXo6J6FJYDTLaxXl4p-8MqKD_ud7cuQFMDV4Ws1pthORIgAAuXV17wRFnoOSFctXXVR9ekXXfxuCUPUawKY10cDOfy58vhlG6FMNvGO7JVCi6QxdjE0L1lg/s2048/hcc-back.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1133" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPcUp4o3WjIZYacJAcXo6J6FJYDTLaxXl4p-8MqKD_ud7cuQFMDV4Ws1pthORIgAAuXV17wRFnoOSFctXXVR9ekXXfxuCUPUawKY10cDOfy58vhlG6FMNvGO7JVCi6QxdjE0L1lg/s320/hcc-back.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhICe5KL9TLXzWd8a-VTgsN8cRMUXw-CGxOHgMAzkFWv4zcBueXgJTGBG0hyphenhyphenPVQIJld-klCX_MaOhuOGvkp0_I5OfnRlWed8HRld38RloL8l1fxDRYz_7jJ9j-dojZzN1L9RzvULA/s2048/ny-front.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1139" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhICe5KL9TLXzWd8a-VTgsN8cRMUXw-CGxOHgMAzkFWv4zcBueXgJTGBG0hyphenhyphenPVQIJld-klCX_MaOhuOGvkp0_I5OfnRlWed8HRld38RloL8l1fxDRYz_7jJ9j-dojZzN1L9RzvULA/s320/ny-front.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsAocr2cwvXfRq87mGOhskER50-Yy3_5OeHEhDew821a1VvFXleEAb9z4pmp9Qyu98aY9G7MVCnNB2eiAnYda2moDqNPdMc-hRLWEK5A08vmc2D50yd-3WjzSMF_gPRgC1BBHPWQ/s2048/ny-back.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1139" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsAocr2cwvXfRq87mGOhskER50-Yy3_5OeHEhDew821a1VvFXleEAb9z4pmp9Qyu98aY9G7MVCnNB2eiAnYda2moDqNPdMc-hRLWEK5A08vmc2D50yd-3WjzSMF_gPRgC1BBHPWQ/s320/ny-back.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOPWvn5k_-GZT3rzk57qWLuggTMfpii5KDHwgXoqLNwBDJvaSda2GmrcU2uUOth1xB5fN8n_zCpgOfvralDX3PbbnyvD-G3nxeJLjIPhE3G4iALyWKPwnqeOIrbI8h67FtaQGzPA/s1488/rbr-front.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1488" data-original-width="823" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOPWvn5k_-GZT3rzk57qWLuggTMfpii5KDHwgXoqLNwBDJvaSda2GmrcU2uUOth1xB5fN8n_zCpgOfvralDX3PbbnyvD-G3nxeJLjIPhE3G4iALyWKPwnqeOIrbI8h67FtaQGzPA/s320/rbr-front.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5XBCg_5CiMw2a2KR0CXNe6Q_QHp7ha-0VZRVI4K3OhBQoMxOMJxESbxGhb_KYr_SCrDO_YGc3Nu5leRkHJzLJdSfMWEglDT_ms26u_XEzsbyygBY6TyeGWL7VPn_BuZ_EYflBGg/s1481/rbr-back.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1481" data-original-width="824" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5XBCg_5CiMw2a2KR0CXNe6Q_QHp7ha-0VZRVI4K3OhBQoMxOMJxESbxGhb_KYr_SCrDO_YGc3Nu5leRkHJzLJdSfMWEglDT_ms26u_XEzsbyygBY6TyeGWL7VPn_BuZ_EYflBGg/s320/rbr-back.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJBNtEEv3jBxSuEbG8R6RCU42Td7dwOigRN8x0mIesrP6bRVAEGdKu_cQ9m11jj6QaOKiqWQeDocS9WdotOabT9IjsPr1APGb9egMPAESVA83rGUNasX1tCbI7Qi3BnaYbRKkkNQ/s1529/tc-front.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1529" data-original-width="848" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJBNtEEv3jBxSuEbG8R6RCU42Td7dwOigRN8x0mIesrP6bRVAEGdKu_cQ9m11jj6QaOKiqWQeDocS9WdotOabT9IjsPr1APGb9egMPAESVA83rGUNasX1tCbI7Qi3BnaYbRKkkNQ/s320/tc-front.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHrGpHRKKKmtHRPy-cWENDarfj6dT2DpKi0_4afxQRlzFhMmBbCvLE0nbQRnD-BpwaOwhl07IFxwaysQx7vKQIGJPyn404hr-doqEWvVE7haDxo9Nw_iCZkMVIxCWyEQW-lQVAfg/s1551/tc-back.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1551" data-original-width="871" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHrGpHRKKKmtHRPy-cWENDarfj6dT2DpKi0_4afxQRlzFhMmBbCvLE0nbQRnD-BpwaOwhl07IFxwaysQx7vKQIGJPyn404hr-doqEWvVE7haDxo9Nw_iCZkMVIxCWyEQW-lQVAfg/s320/tc-back.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHJe6Xv9CuKxvE2zIcob8AH9CrWVwQooFPcKX7ZobYN3y73ku-xUPx8xt6gnHpV8dQT5dJ4T4DGek0faoNitteIswVJrpPPqYWUUUuWuCcjDT21LOQj9YDfO6nrsupPlmPjz1PKA/s1242/tdd-front.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1242" data-original-width="693" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHJe6Xv9CuKxvE2zIcob8AH9CrWVwQooFPcKX7ZobYN3y73ku-xUPx8xt6gnHpV8dQT5dJ4T4DGek0faoNitteIswVJrpPPqYWUUUuWuCcjDT21LOQj9YDfO6nrsupPlmPjz1PKA/s320/tdd-front.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqeq9J8bEYA8J3NF9ggurGVSaPW_sdhn6mdxDnbWLU7XcH92EfYAHpcAzi0R-L92nubmHqEiNcN2UYKraDMyJmy0ZnyTwc8-EQIhOmB1PiOaOHw_MDfaBsoQS3BjOUPyz00r5_GQ/s1600/tdd-back.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="880" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqeq9J8bEYA8J3NF9ggurGVSaPW_sdhn6mdxDnbWLU7XcH92EfYAHpcAzi0R-L92nubmHqEiNcN2UYKraDMyJmy0ZnyTwc8-EQIhOmB1PiOaOHw_MDfaBsoQS3BjOUPyz00r5_GQ/s320/tdd-back.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdXImeMn8eFTeMoXbxBzDTmxSg-DFnaNEb6ScQo5t2dIarpcYmCpef9k5G0tFHfaCrtq31OrikukmU8BSf39688EOUxVIWJdRJzlC0MnnpQRTkGKru4sACFAjONvXi90_wGs-zHQ/s1840/violentyears.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1502" data-original-width="1840" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdXImeMn8eFTeMoXbxBzDTmxSg-DFnaNEb6ScQo5t2dIarpcYmCpef9k5G0tFHfaCrtq31OrikukmU8BSf39688EOUxVIWJdRJzlC0MnnpQRTkGKru4sACFAjONvXi90_wGs-zHQ/s320/violentyears.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">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 <i>too</i> will be singing "Tee-EE-nage THEE-ater" in the same falsetto voice.</p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/v_9-5DaiJMs" width="560"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">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.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcGb4QQqsDODepje540PYJDnJE7kS1kVX9rMSPlsAuw4cQc79wua0Ix5F61U-iJT3SLvJb3cZvJ-Om7f2X1Dn5Bfivck9cvgayJbR_E5DMxhuLTxi1wetUkNwb_yjEjMntUUGAyw/s1059/tdd-reissue.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1059" data-original-width="794" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcGb4QQqsDODepje540PYJDnJE7kS1kVX9rMSPlsAuw4cQc79wua0Ix5F61U-iJT3SLvJb3cZvJ-Om7f2X1Dn5Bfivck9cvgayJbR_E5DMxhuLTxi1wetUkNwb_yjEjMntUUGAyw/s320/tdd-reissue.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfV8jAvBc8MQ7vxwWLI7LqamnLg0-q2ueF70c5rzanWHNxGWOCXb6wr8mlrW0OivEJQ_GSj_UtknW9Crzy9kwoZ8vGJUDIwAiLxk1ljyHa6Q6qFIBWc0gk_XaDW59CCyIEUAR_1g/s474/wg-reissue.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="474" data-original-width="255" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfV8jAvBc8MQ7vxwWLI7LqamnLg0-q2ueF70c5rzanWHNxGWOCXb6wr8mlrW0OivEJQ_GSj_UtknW9Crzy9kwoZ8vGJUDIwAiLxk1ljyHa6Q6qFIBWc0gk_XaDW59CCyIEUAR_1g/s320/wg-reissue.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">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. (<i>Untamed Youth </i>would have been a perfect fit, as would have <i>High School Confidential</i>. 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! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">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, <i>Teen Mania</i>. But I'm not sure if they're exactly the same prints as the Rhino VHS. A cursory glance at the <i>High School Caesar</i> DVD reveals that some of the song score has been replaced by instrumental music.)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">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.)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><i>December 30, 1989:</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">10:30 PM <i>High School Caesar</i>. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">12:00 AM <i>Teenage Confidential</i>. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">01:10 AM <i>The Violent Years</i>. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">02:20 AM <i>Carnival Rock</i>. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">04:00 AM <i>Naked Youth</i>.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><i>June 1, 1990:</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">10:30 PM <i>Teenage Devil Dolls</i>.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">12:00 AM <i>Teenage Thunder</i>.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">01:30 AM <i>Wild Guitar</i>.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">03:25 AM <i>The Atomic Kid</i>.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipOhBv3B4VnbXSgkg5YU8zMMTxS8bAxOquj99Kr2aeuQW5pnBbQCvg9Kb-PYtZau2co9QiTsjC9Vv-SfRsOwO2KpjFmZTtgnxxy9Q6vxdbV369jaaOma59m017qB8Fr25HXQ7V-Q/s642/end.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="475" data-original-width="642" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipOhBv3B4VnbXSgkg5YU8zMMTxS8bAxOquj99Kr2aeuQW5pnBbQCvg9Kb-PYtZau2co9QiTsjC9Vv-SfRsOwO2KpjFmZTtgnxxy9Q6vxdbV369jaaOma59m017qB8Fr25HXQ7V-Q/w400-h296/end.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Greg Woodshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07781308526267978337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031085.post-42020219348492165562021-01-07T20:28:00.003-05:002021-01-07T21:39:20.988-05:00[Thursday Nostalgia] My Very First Video Store Haul<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-l7En_KKZ99cX6bQjSlYMDEmCW_9PxxMdj2Jvxpyivvyrse8N97Psat7YfM4aTTh40CKQ_iZpR4ME7LIr5dEGoDlgyk0Jz1djSTpwEGGU1gHcxq5J2GIYSonm9Tx49RzSNhiaVg/s1082/ddrd.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1082" data-original-width="585" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-l7En_KKZ99cX6bQjSlYMDEmCW_9PxxMdj2Jvxpyivvyrse8N97Psat7YfM4aTTh40CKQ_iZpR4ME7LIr5dEGoDlgyk0Jz1djSTpwEGGU1gHcxq5J2GIYSonm9Tx49RzSNhiaVg/w216-h400/ddrd.jpg" width="216" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">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!</p><p style="text-align: justify;">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!</p><p style="text-align: justify;">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 <i>Night Of The Living Dead</i> 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. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTPVLRzjkUhiFtCcZFWth-yt7vsgIW7d4XgKsDbhLZqk7J0PG2zQHBkv7YdWwd7I3V8q8sCGQRFPRP3ELFewx9AN-OskcEnEuR8uBCJKJr0VtUFdsjDbapsTN3YB62SnGrjO_Lbw/s634/bv.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="634" data-original-width="265" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTPVLRzjkUhiFtCcZFWth-yt7vsgIW7d4XgKsDbhLZqk7J0PG2zQHBkv7YdWwd7I3V8q8sCGQRFPRP3ELFewx9AN-OskcEnEuR8uBCJKJr0VtUFdsjDbapsTN3YB62SnGrjO_Lbw/w168-h400/bv.jpg" width="168" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">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 <i>Now Magazine</i>. 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 <i>a measly $4.95!!!</i></div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">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, <i>Daredevils Of The Red Circle</i>, surmising that it would be gone before then. That day, I also hemmed and hawed about picking up the Claudia Jennings classic, <i>Group Marriage</i>, 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.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">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: <i>Group Marriage</i> 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 <i>Videohound</i> 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. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">That afternoon, I left with some old favourites for five bucks a pop: Key Video's edition of the spaghetti western <i>A Minute To Pray, A Second To Die</i>; Rob Nilsson's independent film <i>Signal 7</i>, a tremendous influence on making my own movies (and sadly appeared in every video closeout's "final week"); and the New Zealand horror film <i>Strange Behaviour</i>, which impressed me upon viewing it years ago on (pause- sigh) WGRZ's all-night show, <i>The Cat's Pajamas</i>. This haul included some previously unseen titles that I had rolled the dice on: <i>Railroaded</i> (Anthony Mann's supercool B-noir) and <i>Tracks</i> (you guessed it- a Henry Jaglom movie).</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0XILpwOWPMJAeNWDXSNjyrkxKvzH01310ZBjWSwJDGjrAqmb22jHpM1lO_BybJVCHwcVjcbTwzJF8PXLFJ6kdjXg8ajQeIxMBxOM7HYS43jHK5O7dbM-O8UacaqIBCfaaQoLaiA/s733/vhs.001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="733" data-original-width="426" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0XILpwOWPMJAeNWDXSNjyrkxKvzH01310ZBjWSwJDGjrAqmb22jHpM1lO_BybJVCHwcVjcbTwzJF8PXLFJ6kdjXg8ajQeIxMBxOM7HYS43jHK5O7dbM-O8UacaqIBCfaaQoLaiA/w372-h640/vhs.001.jpg" width="372" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">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.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL6YDopBGLND2qwSnXOmw02ZRqP6ZfbB37HmgO2uP4fikTcGkMiof-O4UBGEk6Suv-AF4vJc64UHw6j_-HS7X5n-kfaumCErgL21HjDcBaQbZN1oxkTQxNpsABbg0WPi9_7-9z2w/s663/tracks.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="663" data-original-width="430" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL6YDopBGLND2qwSnXOmw02ZRqP6ZfbB37HmgO2uP4fikTcGkMiof-O4UBGEk6Suv-AF4vJc64UHw6j_-HS7X5n-kfaumCErgL21HjDcBaQbZN1oxkTQxNpsABbg0WPi9_7-9z2w/w260-h400/tracks.jpg" width="260" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That Henry Jaglom movie.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>Greg Woodshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07781308526267978337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031085.post-85582302704418315902021-01-04T21:04:00.004-05:002021-01-06T09:40:28.615-05:00[VHS Mondays] Best Of The CFC<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: justify;">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 </span><i style="text-align: justify;">VHS Mondays</i><span style="text-align: justify;">, I found this VHS tape. </span><i style="text-align: justify;">Vol. 1 The Best Of The CFC</i><span style="text-align: justify;">, is an offering by Rogers' First Rites label, which distributed Canadian-produced independent films (a redundant phrase, as most of Canada's cinema </span><i style="text-align: justify;">is </i><span style="text-align: justify;">independent). My past sojourns into video clearance bins and the like have turned up a couple of their releases (the Tarantino-influenced </span><span style="text-align: justify;"><i>Trouble</i> </span><span style="text-align: justify;">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 </span><a href="https://filmtrap.com/the-brief-glorious-existence-of-canadas-first-rites-video-label/" style="text-align: justify;">Film Trap</a><span style="text-align: justify;"> make a valiant first stab. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsMj24Eq1DPC8ptM0t3jlGeBdZfIiKlifmi1nJtg3riqv9HXEhr-NEdDiA6wW8q3PxWxMB2WRMPQmnuU-YqLCSHsscHVsND-RJp7rEZObvl6tvXiUftVyz_Or3Aw9J9tcB8MZHIw/s1600/cfc1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="951" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsMj24Eq1DPC8ptM0t3jlGeBdZfIiKlifmi1nJtg3riqv9HXEhr-NEdDiA6wW8q3PxWxMB2WRMPQmnuU-YqLCSHsscHVsND-RJp7rEZObvl6tvXiUftVyz_Or3Aw9J9tcB8MZHIw/w238-h400/cfc1.jpg" width="238" /></a></div></div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><i>The Best Of The CFC</i> (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 <i>Ernest</i> (2002), Vincenzo Natali's <i>Elevated </i>(1996), Andrew Ainsworth's <i>Cleveland Wood's Last Day On Earth </i>(1996), Aubrey Nealon's <i>In Memoriam </i>(2001), and Alex Chapple's <i>The Passion Of John Ruskin</i> (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 <i>pro bono</i>.) </p><p style="text-align: justify;">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<i> John Ruskin</i>), plus that of Vincenzo Natali, whose debut feature <i>Cube </i>was made by the CFC's Feature Film Project, just after his work on <i>Elevated</i>, to which this work is thematically similar. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFMXTy7K0jKxVbw1Pqsb7_PdEcxmW9Pd5GtBwesufIRBX0uWN8CbTn4nnlHpRKPyWvixUdDyfUAMEuZO0L8LoqCBnuiOra6d3e7eCPEb6gmeQpbZqryRB1iLyE0cn706gUCef_tg/s1600/cfc2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="940" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFMXTy7K0jKxVbw1Pqsb7_PdEcxmW9Pd5GtBwesufIRBX0uWN8CbTn4nnlHpRKPyWvixUdDyfUAMEuZO0L8LoqCBnuiOra6d3e7eCPEb6gmeQpbZqryRB1iLyE0cn706gUCef_tg/w235-h400/cfc2.jpg" width="235" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">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.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">What chromium dioxide delights await next week's column? Until then, be kind and rewind!</p><p></p>Greg Woodshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07781308526267978337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031085.post-31164903796709447252021-01-03T11:50:00.005-05:002021-01-03T11:52:12.752-05:00[Streaming] Warren Sonbert + Mike Kuchar<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieCiPU4N1pJxA-pR4bYsZwax82RADG0HVRXqNLdEbOVrj_S66v4syUNfBHk7qyyZiUZPg98kLV_Nj6oLLKT-RImJkUgDalpM04zvog1ezqSrA13YtByHlRGF92rtvKJzWofq4g6g/s1000/DEATH%252BQUEST_Caveman_Cavewoman.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="741" data-original-width="1000" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieCiPU4N1pJxA-pR4bYsZwax82RADG0HVRXqNLdEbOVrj_S66v4syUNfBHk7qyyZiUZPg98kLV_Nj6oLLKT-RImJkUgDalpM04zvog1ezqSrA13YtByHlRGF92rtvKJzWofq4g6g/w400-h296/DEATH%252BQUEST_Caveman_Cavewoman.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Because the pandemic has shuttered most theatres, many independent venues and film collectives had chosen to generate some revenue by streaming material online. </div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">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 <b>Death Cult Of The Ju-Ju's</b> (1976; pictured above) can be rented for $3.99 US to stream for a 72-hour period.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">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."</p><p style="text-align: justify;">It is a rare treat to view anything by the brothers George or Mike Kuchar. <a href="https://vimeo.com/ondemand/jujucults/487842665?autoplay=1" target="_blank">Click here to view and support the AFA</a>. </p><p style="text-align: center;">---</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqwLxLX0-6GlOJE7sXMtlbp4nkiyH8AvpY2KrI13equMBYbgYaFLC4DIde5AUZ_xV3rtQJO0hkmpFd-rU05AqStRjCxAeG08yPEPsOuczIoo42-Y5YHq_wA6WfXMv3ag4ojhTNUg/s649/hall%252Bof%252Bmirrors%252Bthumbnail.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="649" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqwLxLX0-6GlOJE7sXMtlbp4nkiyH8AvpY2KrI13equMBYbgYaFLC4DIde5AUZ_xV3rtQJO0hkmpFd-rU05AqStRjCxAeG08yPEPsOuczIoo42-Y5YHq_wA6WfXMv3ag4ojhTNUg/w400-h296/hall%252Bof%252Bmirrors%252Bthumbnail.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;">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, <b>Amphetamine </b>(10 min), <b>Where Did Our Love Go?</b> (15 min) and his modern classic <b>Hall Of Mirrors </b>(7 min, pictured above), can be streamed<i> for free until January 5.</i> </p><p style="text-align: justify;">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."</p><p>Visit <a href="https://www.gartenbergmedia.com/gme-streamline-blog/2020/5/20/sonbert-collection" target="_blank">this link here</a> to view them while you still can. More of Sonbert's work will be made available by Gartenberg through 2021.</p>Greg Woodshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07781308526267978337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031085.post-9708555143375876572021-01-02T12:05:00.105-05:002021-01-03T11:29:01.917-05:00Joan Micklin Silver (1935 - 2020)<b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE61NSAn_TDEtSrbz-8v0WmRK_2gGXRiAzCe3FsJ-m4Ot0UWarWa_UOIwDa8ooDhC8Uz-wH4vffF9bVbgInelBMhjnEAaPOGuubtUtDqzNnncvBDWh-9Bu4en4NxLspsSyqkTdSQ/s780/joanm.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="570" data-original-width="780" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE61NSAn_TDEtSrbz-8v0WmRK_2gGXRiAzCe3FsJ-m4Ot0UWarWa_UOIwDa8ooDhC8Uz-wH4vffF9bVbgInelBMhjnEAaPOGuubtUtDqzNnncvBDWh-9Bu4en4NxLspsSyqkTdSQ/w400-h293/joanm.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Joan Micklin Silver</b> [May 24, 1935 - Dec. 31, 2020]<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">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 <i>still </i>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" <i>still</i> require: they are understated, unpretentious, disarmingly quirky, subtly surprising, and feel so organic, <i>alive</i>!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">After directing some short films, including the well-regarded PBS short film, <i>Bernice Bobs Her Hair,</i> and co-writing the screenplay for <i>Limbo </i>(directed by Mark Robson), she made her feature-film debut with 1975's <i>Hester Street</i>, featuring Carol Kane in a breakthrough Oscar nominated role. My favourite of her work, 1977's <i>Between The Lines</i>, 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 <i>Chilly Scenes Of Winter</i> (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 <i>Crossing Delancey</i> (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, <i>On The Yard</i>, 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: <i>Old Enough</i> (1984), and <i>Permanent Record</i> (1988).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>FILMS:</i> (as director, and screenwriter*, unless specified): <i>The Immigrant Experience: The Long Long Journey</i> (1972 short, +scr.),<i>Limbo</i> (1972; screenplay only, based on her novel), <i>The Fur Coat Club</i> (1973 short; +scr.), <i>The Case of the Elevator Duck</i> (1974 short; +scr.), <i>Hester Street</i> (1975; +scr.), The Frontier Experience (1975 short, screenplay only), <i>Bernice Bobs Her Hair</i> (1976 short; +scr.), <i>Between the Lines</i> (1977), <i>On The Yard</i> (1978; producer only) <i>Chilly Scenes of Winter (aka- Head Over Heels)</i> (1979; +scr.), Faerie Tale Theatre: The Nightingale (1983 TV short; screenplay only), <i>How to Be a Perfect Person in Just Three Days</i> (1983 TV movie), <i>Finnegan Begin Again</i> (1985 TV movie), <i>Crossing Delancey</i> (1988), <i>Loverboy</i> (1989), <i>Prison Stories: Women on the Inside</i> (1991 TV movie - segment 2), <i>Big Girls Don't Cry... They Get Even</i> (1992), <i>A Private Matter</i> (1992 TV movie), <i>In the Presence of Mine Enemies</i> (1997 TV movie), <i>Invisible Child</i> (1999 TV movie), <i>A Fish in the Bathtub</i> (1999), <i>Charms for the Easy Life</i> (2002 TV movie), <i>Hunger Point</i> (2003 TV movie)</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3mFEjVqnLcGiZkeiqLtMgnVd7ortDvnn5lLuupSnjmN9wfBXGyIHNJvy0X-7t31RYGVCD2cEu4XhNvs1bYjnxhA2dUS_hHl7a0xGrLm6obsEpvvrjc2aNlWfdK14_8YM9A4Y9ZQ/s1920/hester.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3mFEjVqnLcGiZkeiqLtMgnVd7ortDvnn5lLuupSnjmN9wfBXGyIHNJvy0X-7t31RYGVCD2cEu4XhNvs1bYjnxhA2dUS_hHl7a0xGrLm6obsEpvvrjc2aNlWfdK14_8YM9A4Y9ZQ/w400-h225/hester.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Hester Street:</b> Carol Kane</td></tr></tbody></table><div></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM8pe1tKkrmywGeyIsnBAytTcV_USTHk-BQpTv6TmFSAMmjTrxK5227VHpRzthP2drCz5wGJF8fvT923kIoe4kfozcjbhpWB8gsg0F-qyLMKjkWeNPY_vpAZb-hCSYVcBZ56nmlQ/s1200/btl1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="675" data-original-width="1200" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM8pe1tKkrmywGeyIsnBAytTcV_USTHk-BQpTv6TmFSAMmjTrxK5227VHpRzthP2drCz5wGJF8fvT923kIoe4kfozcjbhpWB8gsg0F-qyLMKjkWeNPY_vpAZb-hCSYVcBZ56nmlQ/w400-h225/btl1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Between The Lines:</b> Jeff Golblum</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEJJy80AHEQ_wJZM195Qz2yuIy0RwxXuTEE8BD3mNBv2XNwQwHqTCLcyO469A7eyWXVOQpTOlkJMp9nF0UREZKAUAyDoUoDQBMg7J0zvpS3jxaTQTZpEEVBY3ceCwhp_JqCJUV-Q/s1920/btl2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEJJy80AHEQ_wJZM195Qz2yuIy0RwxXuTEE8BD3mNBv2XNwQwHqTCLcyO469A7eyWXVOQpTOlkJMp9nF0UREZKAUAyDoUoDQBMg7J0zvpS3jxaTQTZpEEVBY3ceCwhp_JqCJUV-Q/w400-h225/btl2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Between The Lines:</b> Lindsay Crouse, Gwen Welles</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQlAOQ7U6J6arHAKk0kchiP2sVXvlxpeN5YC-kqm0CePdA1CxVMGAn2K8m2cY5XcSzw03t9I5ZBRyv_50NIsgds5acFoCeCRfjC6TXWDxgLRXpu5aq_8eJCmfSjIgP_VcdVXPoUw/s1022/csw1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="553" data-original-width="1022" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQlAOQ7U6J6arHAKk0kchiP2sVXvlxpeN5YC-kqm0CePdA1CxVMGAn2K8m2cY5XcSzw03t9I5ZBRyv_50NIsgds5acFoCeCRfjC6TXWDxgLRXpu5aq_8eJCmfSjIgP_VcdVXPoUw/w400-h216/csw1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Chilly Scenes Of Winter: </b>John Heard, Mary Beth Hurt</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR32HE2wViQgaRD3MAaRRqHUSX33PvXXA0DXJNEezGpT010LMN-Qz30_-0gWlABbUohkRM38B-dVi-ONS-KHycfvmee_Va2yGV3-86vN1-g-F_dYCMzL-8KTHMpEuE56oaf0tRMg/s1024/csw2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="863" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR32HE2wViQgaRD3MAaRRqHUSX33PvXXA0DXJNEezGpT010LMN-Qz30_-0gWlABbUohkRM38B-dVi-ONS-KHycfvmee_Va2yGV3-86vN1-g-F_dYCMzL-8KTHMpEuE56oaf0tRMg/w338-h400/csw2.jpg" width="338" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Chilly Scenes Of Winter: </b>Gloria Grahame</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8_NFucmQ9egkDQElXq3ljL395IKVlhhEcCiWQfflaBe1U1ECUvMYXxt3zVtNSLs2Rvdp697_mkI5nveQz__la0ZsGA4-7fI_6O9jeLpEdjPA_Odfz-npq65mzADYCUeWCbXEC2g/s960/crossingdelancey.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="625" data-original-width="960" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8_NFucmQ9egkDQElXq3ljL395IKVlhhEcCiWQfflaBe1U1ECUvMYXxt3zVtNSLs2Rvdp697_mkI5nveQz__la0ZsGA4-7fI_6O9jeLpEdjPA_Odfz-npq65mzADYCUeWCbXEC2g/w400-h260/crossingdelancey.jpg" title="Crossing Delancey: Amy Irving, Peter Riegert" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Crossing Delancey: </b>Amy Irving, Peter Riegert</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div>Greg Woodshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07781308526267978337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031085.post-55342086174822903492021-01-01T17:41:00.010-05:002021-01-01T20:37:46.366-05:00Well, That's That<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5nYetF8EMu5X3W1-IDnewBQLjeM7JVj7XptZudr1ehNBjd71rlb7iFE-OXXHSttBjj3wc2kyLLj0cRaARSD1iWX1j12bwhpPToWoY0UxCZYrsBgwFLYkqpBm_WtqQUePOJO052w/s1200/yiyi.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="675" data-original-width="1200" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5nYetF8EMu5X3W1-IDnewBQLjeM7JVj7XptZudr1ehNBjd71rlb7iFE-OXXHSttBjj3wc2kyLLj0cRaARSD1iWX1j12bwhpPToWoY0UxCZYrsBgwFLYkqpBm_WtqQUePOJO052w/w400-h225/yiyi.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">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. </div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">This blog post is divided into sections for better navigation: 1) <i>Where We Are.</i> 2) <i>Aspirations.</i> 3) <i>Films Seen in 2020.</i> 4) <i>Best Of's... and other lists</i>. 5. <i>Thank You.</i></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>1) Where We Are</b></p><p style="text-align: justify;">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 <i>all</i> of us!</p><p style="text-align: justify;">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.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>2) Aspirations</b></p><p style="text-align: justify;">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!) </p><p style="text-align: justify;">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.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">So, feel free to bookmark this blog for announcements of all things ESR in the future, and for more fun film-related posts.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>3) Films Seen In 2020</b></p><p style="text-align: justify;">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 <i>is</i> 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). </p><p style="text-align: justify;">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.</p><p><i>Notes:</i> an asterisk (*) signifies a repeat screening; (TV) refers to a made-for-TV movie.</p>
Abel Ferrara: <i>The Driller Killer</i> (1979)*<br />Akos Rathonyi: <i>Cave Of The Living Dead</i> (1964)<br />
Al Adamson: <i>The Female Bunch</i> (1969), <i>Satan's Sadists</i> (1969), <i>Girls For Rent</i> (1974), <i>Blazing Stewardesses</i> (1975)*, <i>Jessi's Girls</i> (1975), <i>Black Samurai</i> (1977)*, <i>The Kill Factor</i> (1978)*, <i>Sunset Cove</i> (1978)*<br />
Al St. John: <i>Shot In The Excitement</i> (1914)<br />
Alain Cavalier: <i>Have I The Right To Kill</i> (1964)<br />
Alan Parker: <i>Come See The Paradise</i> (1990)<br />
Alan Rudolph: <i>Ray Meets Helen</i> (2017)<br />
Alexander Dovzhenko: <i>Earth</i> (1930)<br />
Alexander Grasshoff: <i>Young Americans</i> (1967)<br />
Alfred Hitchcock: <i>The Lady Vanishes</i> (1938)*<br />
Alfred Sole: <i>Pandemonium</i> (1982)<br />Amos Poe: <i>Subway Riders</i> (1981), <i>Alphabet City</i> (1984)<br />
Ana Mariscal: <i>El camino</i> (1963)<br />
Anatole Litvak: <i>Blues In The Night</i> (1941)<br />
Andrei Tarkovsky: <i>Solaris</i> (1972)*<br />
Andrew Patterson: <i>The Vast Of Night</i> (2019)<br />
Andrew V. McLaglen: <i>The Hellfighters</i> (1969)*, <i>Cahill: <i>United States Marshall</i> (1973)*</i><br />
Andy Milligan: <i>Guru, The Mad Monk</i> (1970)<br />
Anthony Mann: <i>Two O'Clock Courage</i> (1945)<br />
Antonio Boccaci: <i>Tomb Of Torture</i> (1963)<br />Antonio Margheriti: <i>The Wild, Wild Planet</i> (1966)*, <i>The Unnaturals</i> (1969), <i>Cannibal Apocalypse</i> (1980)<br />
Archie Mayo: <i>Sweet And Low-Down</i> (1944)<br />
Arnold Laven: <i>Rough Night In Jericho</i> (1967)<br />
Arthur Dreifuss: <i>Junior Prom</i> (1946)<br />
Arthur J. Bressan Jr.: <i>Buddies</i> (1985)<br />
Arthur Lubin: <i>Ali Baba And The Forty Thieves</i> (1944)<br />
Astrid Henning-Jensen: <i>Krane's Confectionery</i> (1951)<div><br />
B. Reeves Eason: <i>Truck Busters</i> (1943)<br />
Barbara Hammer: <i>Schizy</i> (1967), <i>X</i> (1973), <i>Dyketactics</i> (1974), <i>Menses</i> (1974), <i>Bent Time</i> (1984), <i>Optic Nerve</i> (1985)<br />Barry Rosen: <i>Devil's Express</i> (1976)*<br />
Bert I. Gordon: <i>Beginning Of The End</i> (1957)*<br />
Bill Rebane: <i>Blood Harvest</i> (1987)*<br />
Bob Sarles: <i>Fly Jefferson Airplane</i> (2004)<i> </i><br />Bong Joon-ho: <i>Snowpiercer</i> (2014), <i>Parasite</i> (2019)<br />
Brian Trenchard-Smith: <i>Dead End Drive-In</i> (1986)<br />
Brian Yuzna: <i>Return Of The Living Dead 3</i> (1993)<br />
Bruce Baillie: <i>Mr. Hayashi</i> (1961), <i>On Sundays</i> (1961), <i>Here I Am</i> (1962), <i>To Parsifal</i> (1963), <i>Mass For The Dakota Sioux</i> (1964), <i>Quixote</i> (1965), <i>Castro Street</i> (1966)*, <i>Little Girl</i> (1966), <i>All My Life</i> (1966), <i>Valentin de las Sierras</i> (1968), <i>Quick Billy</i> (1971), <i>Roslyn Romance</i> (1976), <i>Tung</i> (1966), <i>Pieta</i> (1998)<br />Bruce Kessler: <i>Simon, King Of The Witches</i> (1971)*<br />
Bruce Weber: <i>Let's Get Lost</i> (1989)*<br />
Bruno Mattei: <i>Cruel Jaws</i> (1995)<br />
Bruno VeSota: <i>The Brain Eaters</i> (1958)*<br />
Buster Keaton, Edward F. Cline: <i>One Week</i> (1920), <i>The Balloonatic</i> (1923)<br />Buzz Kulik: <i>Warning Shot</i> (1967)*</div><div><br />
Caleb Deschanel: <i>The Escape Artist</i> (1982)<br />
Carl Lerner: <i>Black Like Me</i> (1964)<br />
Carl Reiner: <i>Enter Laughing</i> (1967), <i>The Comic</i> (1969), <i>Where's Poppa?</i> (1970)<br />Carlos Enrique Taboada: <i>Even The Wind Is Afraid</i> (1968)<br />
Carol Reed: <i>Night Train To Munich</i> (1940)*<br />
Chano Urueta: <i>The Witch's Mirror</i> (1962)<br />
Charles B. Pierce: <i>Grayeagle</i> (1977)<br />
Charley Chase: <i>Fifteen Minutes</i> (1921)<br />
Chris Lamson: <i>Soundies: <i>A Musical History</i> (2007)<br />
Chris Robinson: <i>The Intruder</i> (1975)*<br />
Christopher Morahan: <i>All Neat In Black Stockings</i> (1969)<br />Chuck Bail: <i>Cleopatra Jones And The Casino Of Gold</i> (1975), <i>The Gumball Rally</i> (1976)*</i><br />
Chuck Russell: <i>The Blob</i> (1988)<br />
Cindy Sherman: <i>Office Killer</i> (1997)<br />
Clark L. Paylow: <i>Ring Of Terror</i> (1962)<br />
Claude Chabrol: <i>The Third Lover</i> (1962)<br />Clint Eastwood: <i>Space Cowboys</i> (2000)*, <i>Richard Jewell</i> (2019)<br />
Constantine S. Gochis: <i>The Redeemer: Son Of Satan</i> (1978)<br />
Curtis Harrington: <i>Planet Of Blood</i> (1966)*<br />
Cynthia Scott: <i>The Company Of Strangers</i> (1990)</div><div><br />
D. Ross Lederman: <i>Bullet Scars</i> (1942)<br />
Dale Berry: <i>Hot-Blooded Woman</i> (1965)<br />
Dario Argento: <i>The Bird With The Crystal Plumage</i> (1970), <i>Inferno</i> (1980)*<br />Darren Aronofsky: <i>Pi</i> (1998)<br />
David Anspaugh: <i>Fresh Horses</i> (1988)<br />
David Cronenberg: <i>Shivers</i> (1975)*<br />
David DeCoteau: <i>Deadly Embrace</i> (1989)<br />
David Gregory: <i>Blood & Flesh: The Reel Life & Ghastly Death of Al Adamson</i> (2019)<br />
David Howard: <i>The Fighting Gringo</i> (1939)*<br />
David Twohy: <i>The Arrival</i> (1996)<br />
David Wickes: <i>Sweeney!</i> (1977)<br />
Dean Alioto: <i>The McPherson Tape</i> (1989)<br />
Deborah Stratman: <i>Vever: (for Barbara) </i>(2018)<br />
Delmer Daves: <i>A Summer Place</i> (1959)<br />
Diane Kurys: <i>Entre Nous</i> (1983)<br />
Director X: <i>Across The Line</i> (2015)<br />
Don Owen: <i>Partners</i> (1976)<br />
Don Siegel: <i>Hell Is For Heroes</i> (1962)*<br />
Donald Wolfe: <i>Savage Intruder</i> (1970)<br />
Duccio Tessari: <i>Death Occurred Last Night</i> (1970), <i>Un centesimo di secondo</i> (1981)</div><div><br />
Eddie Davis: <i>Panic In The City</i> (1968)*</div><div>
Eddie Romero: <i>Black Mama, White Mama</i> (1972)*, <i>Beyond Atlantis</i> (1973)*<br />Edgar G. Ulmer: <i>The Cavern</i> (1965)<br />
Edo Bertoglio: <i>Downtown 81</i> (2000)*<br />
Edouard Molinaro: <i>Just The Way You Are</i> (1984)<br />
Edward Bell: <i>American Heart</i> (1992)<br />
Edward D. Wood, Jr.: <i>Night Of The Ghouls</i> (1959)*<br />
Edward Owens: <i>Remembrance: A Portrait Study</i> (1967), <i>Tomorrow's Promises</i> (1967), <i>Private Imaginings And Narrative Facts</i> (1970)<br />
Edward Yang: <i>Yi Yi</i> (2000)<br />
Elio Petri: <i>The Teacher From Vigevano</i> (1963)<br />
Enzo G. Castellari: <i>Kill Them All And Come Back Alone</i> (1968), <i>Cold Eyes Of Fear</i> (1971), <i>The New Barbarians</i> (1983)<br />Erle C. Kenton: <i>Devil's Playground</i> (1937)<br />
Ernest Pintoff: <i>Who Killed Mary What'sername?</i> (1971)</div><div><br />
Ferde Grofe Jr.: <i>Day Of The Wolves</i> (1971)*<br />
Fernando Mendez: <i>The Living Coffin</i> (1959)<br />
Franco Giraldi: <i>Sugar Colt</i> (1966)<br />
Frank McDonald: <i>Gunfight At Comanche Creek</i> (1963)<br />
Fred Dekker: <i>Night Of The Creeps</i> (1986)*<br />
Fred Olen Ray: <i>Biohazard</i> (1985), <i>Commando Squad</i> (1987)*, <i>Terminal Force</i> (1989)*, <i>Bikini Drive-In</i> (1995)<br />Freddie Francis: <i>They Came From Beyond Space</i> (1967)*<br />
Fredric Hobbs: <i>Godmonster Of Indian Flats</i> (1973)*<br />
Fritz Lang: <i>House By The River</i> (1950)</div><div><br />
Gary Youngman: <i>Rush It</i> (1978)<br />George A. Romero: <i>There's Always Vanilla</i> (1971)*, <i>Jack's Wife</i> (1972)*, <i>The Crazies</i> (1973)*<br />
George Englund: <i>Zachariah</i> (1971)*<br />
George Marshall: <i>Destry</i> (1954)<br />
George Montgomery: <i>Guerillas In Pink Lace</i> (1964)<br />Gilbert Cates: <i>I Never Sang For My Father</i> (1970)*, <i>Summer Wishes, Winter Dreams</i> (1973)<br />
George Nierenberg: <i>Say Amen, Somebody</i> (1982)<br />
Gilbert W. Taylor: <i>Frankenstein On Campus</i> (1970)<br />
Giuliano Carmineo: <i>Convoy Busters</i> (1975)<br />
Gjon Mili: <i>Jammin' The Blues</i> (1944)*<br />
Gregg Araki: <i>The Living End</i> (1992)*<br />Greta Gerwig: <i>Lady Bird</i> (2017)<br />
Greta Schiller, Andrea Weiss: <i>International Sweethearts Of Rhythm</i> (1986)<br />
Guillermo del Toro: <i>The Shape Of Water</i> (2017)</div><div><br />
Hal Ashby: <i>8 Million Ways To Die</i> (1986)<br />
Hal Hartley: <i>The Unbelievable Truth</i> (1989)*, <i>Trust</i> (1990)*, <i>Simple Men</i> (1992)*, <i>Opera 1</i> (1994), <i>Flirt</i> (1995)<br />Hal Kanter: <i>I Married A Woman</i> (1958)<div>Harry Sutherland: <i>Track Two</i> (1982)<br />
Harry Thomason: <i>Encounter With The Unknown</i> (1973)*, <i>So Sad About Gloria</i> (1973)*, <i>The Day It Came To Earth</i> (1979)*<br />Helia Colombo: <i>The Police Are Blundering In The Dark</i> (1975)<br />
Henry Lehrman: <i>Father Was A Loafer</i> (1915)<br />
Henri Verneuil: <i>The Burglars</i> (1971)*<br />
Herb Wallerstein: <i>Snowbeast</i> (1977) (TV)*<br />
Herbert Ross: <i>I Ought To Be In Pictures</i> (1982)<br />
Herman Hoffman: <i>The Invisible Boy</i> (1957)<br />Howard Hawks: <i>The Crowd Roars</i> (1932), <i>Ceiling Zero</i> (1936), <i>Only Angels Have Wings</i> (1939), <i>Air Force</i> (1943), <i>I Was A Male War Bride</i> (1949), <i>Monkey Business</i> (1952)*, <i>Gentlemen Prefer Blondes</i> (1953)*, <i>Rio Bravo</i> (1959)*, <i>Man's Favorite Sport?</i> (1964)*, <i>El Dorado</i> (1967)*, <i>Rio Lobo</i> (1970)*</div><div><br /></div><div>Irvin S. Yeaworth: <i>The Blob</i> (1958)*<br />
Irving Lerner: <i>Murder By Contract</i> (1958)<br />
Isaac Julien: <i>Derek</i> (2008)<br />
Ivan Passer: <i>Cutter's Way</i> (1981)*<br />J. Lee Thompson: <i>The Weak And The Wicked</i> (1954), <i>An Alligator Named Daisy</i> (1955), <i>As Long As They're Happy</i> (1955), <i>Tiger Bay</i> (1959), <i>Eye Of The Devil</i> (1966)</div><div><br />Jacinto Molina: <i>The Beast And The Magic Sword</i> (1983)<br />
Jack Sholder: <i>The Hidden</i> (1987)*<br />
Jack Smight: <i>The Third Day</i> (1965)<br />
Jacqueline Audry: <i>Olivia</i> (1951)<br />
Jacques Becker: <i>Antoine And Antoinette</i> (1947)<br />Jacques Demy: <i>Lola</i> (1961)*, <i>Bay Of Angels</i> (1963)*, <i>Model Shop</i> (1969), <i>Une Chambre en Ville</i> (1982)<br />James A. Sullivan: <i>Night Fright</i> (1967)<br />
James Glickenhaus: <i>The Astrologer</i> (1977)<br />James Landis: <i>Stakeout!</i> (1962)*, <i>The Nasty Rabbit</i> (1964)*, <i>Deadwood '76</i> (1965)*, <i>Rat Fink</i> (1965)<br />
Jan Troell: <i>Zandy's Bride</i> (1974)<br />
Javier Aguirre: <i>The Killer Is One Of Thirteen</i> (1973)<br />
Jean-Marie Pelissie: <i>The Bride</i> (1973)<br />
Jean-Pierre Melville: <i>Le Silence de la Mer</i> (1949), <i>When You Read This Letter</i> (1953), <i>Two Men In Manhattan</i> (1959)*<br />
Jeff Feuerzeig: <i>The Devil And Daniel Johnston</i> (2005)<br />
Jeff Renfroe: <i>I Am Steve McQueen</i> (2014)<br />
Jess Franco: <i>The Sadistic Baron Von Klaus</i> (1962), <i>Two Female Spies With Flowered Panties </i>(1978), <i>The Night Of Open Sex</i><i> </i>(1983)<i>, </i><i>Bahia blanca</i> (1984)<br />
Jess Robbins: <i>Meet Father</i> (1924)<br />
Jesse Hibbs: <i>Rails Into Laramie</i> (1954)<br />
Jodie Mack: <i>The Grand Bizarre</i> (2018)<br />
Joe O'Connell: <i>Danger God</i> (2019)<br />
Joe Rock: <i>The Whirlwind</i> (1922)<br />
John Ainsworth: <i>The One-Eyed Soldiers</i> (1967)*<br />
John Baxter: <i>Crooks Tour</i> (1941)<br />
John G. Avildsen: <i>Cry Uncle!</i> (1971), <i>For Keeps</i> (1988), <i>Rocky V</i> (1990)<br />John H. Auer: <i> Hell's Half Acre</i> (954)<br />
John Hancock: <i> Let's Scare Jessica To Death</i> (1971)<br />
John Hayes: <i> Dream No Evil</i> (1970)<br />
John Stewart: <i> Action U.S.A.</i> (1989)<br />
John Sturges: <i>Sign Of The Ram</i> (1948), <i>Mystery Street</i> (1950), <i>The Magnificent Seven</i> (1960)*, <i>Joe Kidd</i> (1972)*</div><div>John Sturges, Duilio Coletti: <i>Chino</i> (1973)*<br />Jonathan Demme: <i>Last Embrace</i> (1979)*, <i>Philadelphia</i> (1993)*<br />
Jose Ramon Larraz: <i>Black Candles</i> (1982)<br />
Joseph Cates: <i>Who Killed Teddy Bear?</i> (1965)<br />
Joseph M. Newman: <i>King Of The Roaring 20's - The Story of Arnold Rothstein</i> (1961)<br />
Julian Schnabel: <i>Basquiat</i> (1996)*<br />
Julie Dash: <i>Daughters Of The Dust</i> (1991)*</div><div><br />
Karim Dridi: <i>Cuba Feliz</i> (2000)<br />
Ken Kwapis: <i>Vibes</i> (1988)<br />
Kenneth Hartford: <i>Hell Squad</i> (1986)<br />
Kenneth Hartford, David L. Hewitt: <i>The Lucifer Complex</i> (1979)*<br />
Kirsten Johnson: <i>Cameraperson</i> (2016)<br />
Kleber Mendonca Filho, Juliano Dornelles: <i>Bacurau</i> (2019)<br />Konstantin Yershov, Georgi Kropachyov: <i>Viy</i> (1967)</div><div><br />
l'Atelier national du Manitoba: <i>Kubasa In A Glass: The Fetishized Winnipeg TV Commercial 1976-1992</i> (2005)*, <i>Death By Popcorn: The Tragedy Of The Winnipeg Jets </i>(2006)<br />Lamont Johnson: <i>Cattle Annie And Little Britches</i> (1981)*<br />
Larry Buchanan: <i>Creature Of Destruction</i> (1967)<br />
Larry Cohen: <i>Perfect Strangers</i> (1984)<br />
Laszlo Benedek: <i>Port Of New York</i> (1949)<br />
Lee Philips: <i>Wanted: The Sundance Woman</i> (1976)*<br />
Leigh Jason: <i>The Choppers</i> (1961)*<br />
Leon Klimovsky: <i>Trauma</i> (1978)<br />
Lesley Selander: <i>Revolt At Fort Laramie</i> (1957)<br />
Lewis Jackson: <i>Christmas Evil</i> (1980)*<br />
Lo Wei: <i>The Chinese Connection</i> (1972)<br />
Louis Belanger: <i>Gaz Bar Blues</i> (2003)<br />Louis Malle: <i>Murmur Of The Heart</i> (1971)*, <i>The Human Condition</i> (1974), <i>Lacombe, Lucien</i> (1974), <i>Black Moon</i> (1975), <i>May Fools</i> (1990)<br />Louis Myll: <i>Outs And Ins</i> (1916)<br />
Louise Sherrill: <i>Ghosts Of Hanley House</i> (1968)<br />
Lucio Fulci: <i>The New Gladiators</i> (1984)<br />
Lucrecia Martel: <i>La Cienaga</i> (2001)<br />
Luigi Scattini : <i>Ring Around The World</i> (1966)</div><div><br />
Mai Zetterling: <i>Loving Couples</i> (1964)<br />Mario Bava: <i>Black Sabbath</i> (1963)*, <i>Kill, Baby... Kill!</i> (1966)*, <i>Hatchet For The Honeymoon</i> (1970)*, <i>Baron Blood</i> (1972)*, <i>Shock</i> (1977)*<br />Mark Rydell: <i>On Golden Pond</i> (1981)*<br />
Martin B. Cohen: <i>Rebel Rousers</i> (1970)*<br />
Martin Goldman: <i>Dark August</i> (1976)<br />
Martin McDonagh: <i>Three Billboards Outside Ebbing Missouri</i> (2017)<br />
Matt Austin: <i>Don't You Forget About Me</i> (2009)<br />
Matthew Chapman: <i>Strangers Kiss</i> (1983)*<br />
Maurice Cloche, Federico Chentrens : <i>The Killer Likes Candy</i> (1968)<br />
Max & Dave Fleischer: <i>The Fade Away</i> (1925)<br />
Maya Deren: <i>A Study In Choreography For The Camera</i> (1945)*<br />
Maya Deren, Alexander Hammid: <i>Meshes Of The Afternoon</i> (1943)*, <i>At Land</i> (1944)*, <i>The Private Life Of A Cat</i> (1946)<br />
Michael Chapman: <i>All The Right Moves</i> (1983)<br />
Michael Fengler, Rainer Werner Fassbinder: <i>Why Does Herr R. Run Amok</i> (1970)*<br />
Michael Powell, Emeric Pressburger: <i>Black Narcissus</i> (1947)*, <i>Gone To Earth</i> (1950)</div><div>
Michael Powell, Emeric Pressburger, Rouben Mamoulian: <i>The Wild Heart</i> (1952)*<br />Michael Rubbo: <i>The Peanut Butter Solution</i> (1985)<br />Michele Lupo: <i>Master Stroke</i> (1967), <i>The Master Touch</i> (1972)*, <i>Mean Frank And Crazy Tony</i> (1973)*, <i>Why Did You Pick On Me?</i> (1980)<br />
Milos Forman: <i>The Firemen's Ball</i> (1967)*<br />
Monte Hellman: <i>Ride In The Whirlwind</i> (1965)*, <i>The Shooting</i> (1967)*, <i>Silent Night, Deadly Night 3: Better Watch Out</i> (1989)</div><div><br />Nagisa Oshima: <i>Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence</i> (1983)</div><div><br />
Pelin Esmer: <i>10 to 11</i> (2009)<br />
Penny Marshall: <i>Big</i> (1988)*<br />
Peter Adair, Lucy Massie Phenix, Veronica Selver, Andrew Brown, Rob Epstein: <i>Word Is Out Stories Of Some Of Our Lives</i> (1977)<br />
Peter Bogdanovich: <i>What's Up, Doc?</i> (1972)*, <i>Paper Moon</i> (1973)*<br />Peter Fonda: <i>Wanda Nevada</i> (1979)<br />
Peter Hall: <i>Perfect Friday</i> (1970)<br />
Peter Hyams: <i>The Star Chamber</i> (1983)*<br />
Peter Markle: <i>Youngblood</i> (1986)<br />
Peter Weir: <i>Picnic At Hanging Rock</i> (1975)*<br />
Pierre Chevalier: <i>Panther Squad</i> (1985)<br />
Pupi Avati: <i>The House Of The Laughing Windows</i> (1976)</div><div><br />
R.G. Springsteen: <i>Hellfire</i> (1949), <i>Hostile Guns</i> (1967)*<br />Rachel Amodeo: <i>Rest In Peace</i> (1991), <i>What About Me?</i> (1993), <i>Pierre Paolo</i> (1998)<br />Rafael Baledon: <i>The Curse Of The Crying Woman</i> (1961)<br />
Ray Danton: <i>Deathmaster</i> (1972)*<br />
Ray Dennis Steckler: <i>Wild Guitar</i> (1962)*, <i>The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living And Became Mixed-Up Zombies </i>(1963)*, <i>Rat Pfink A Boo Boo</i> (1964)*, <i>The Thrill Killers</i> (1965)*, <i>Lemon Grove Kids Meet The Monsters</i> (1968)*, <i>Body Fever</i> (1969)*<br />Reginald Harkema: <i>Leslie, My Name Is Evil (2009)</i><br />
Rene Clement: <i>And Hope To Die</i> (1972)<br />
Rene Daalder: <i>Population: 1 </i>(1986)<br />
Richard Brooks: <i>Bite The Bullet</i> (1975)<br />
Richard Fleischer: <i>The Spikes Gang</i> (1974)*<br />
Richard Kelly: <i>Donnie Darko</i> (2001), <i>Southland Tales</i> (2006)<br />Richard Stanley: <i>Color Out Of Space</i> (2019)<br />
Rick Sloane: <i>The Visitants</i> (1986)<br />
Riley Stearns: <i>The Art Of Self-Defense</i> (2019)<br />
Rob Nilsson: <i>Gotta Be Otto: (A Film About Going to See a Film)</i> (1970)<br />
Rob Reiner: <i>Stand By Me</i> (1986)*<br />
Robert Aldrich: <i>Ten Seconds To Hell</i> (1959), ...<i>All The Marbles</i> (1981)<br />Robert Allen Schnitzer: <i>The Premonition</i> (1975)<br />
Robert Clouse: <i>Gymkata</i> (1985)*<br />
Robert Gordon: <i>The Gatling Gun</i> (1971)*<br />
Robert M. Young: <i>Rich Kids</i> (1979)<br />
Robert Michael Lewis: <i>Pray For The Wildcats</i> (1974) (TV)<br />
Robert Siodmak: <i>Cobra Woman</i> (1944)*, <i>Cry Of The City</i> (1948)*<br />Robert Voskanian: <i>The Child</i> (1977)*<br />
Robert W. Morgan: <i>Blood Stalkers</i> (1976)<br />
Robert Warmflash: <i>Death Promise</i> (1977)*<br />
Roger Vadim: <i>Les Liaisons Dangereuses 1960</i> (1959)<br />
Roland Klick: <i>Supermarkt</i> (1974)<br />
Ron Howard: <i>The Paper</i> (1994)<br />
Roy Rowland: <i>The Moonlighter</i> (1953)<br />
Rudolph Cusumano: <i>Wild Ones On Wheels</i> (1962)*<br />
Ruggero Deodato: <i>The Concorde Affair</i> (1979)<br />
Russ Marker: <i>The Yesterday Machine</i> (1963)<br />
Ryan Mains: <i>Ferris's Room</i> (2018)</div><div><br />
Sam Mendes: <i>1917</i> (2019)<br />
Sam Wanamaker: <i>Catlow</i> (1971)*<br />
Sarah Kelly: <i>Full Tilt Boogie</i> (1997)<br />
Satyajit Ray: <i>The Home And The World</i> (1984)<br />
Sergei Goncharoff: <i>House Of Terror</i> (1973)<br />Sergio Corbucci: <i>The Slave</i> (1962), <i>The Specialists</i> (1970), <i>Odds And Evens</i> (1978)<br />
Sergio Martino: <i>The Strange Vice Of Mrs. Wardh</i> (1971)<br />
Shirley Clarke: <i>Ornette: Made In America</i> (1985)*<br />
Sidney J. Furie: <i>A Cool Sound From Hell</i> (1959)<br />
Sidney Lumet: <i>The Offence</i> (1973)<br />
Stephen Roberts: <i>Cheer Up</i> (1924)<br />
Steven Spielberg: <i>The Post</i> (2017)<br />
Stuart Millar: <i>Rooster Cogburn</i> (1975)*<br />Susan Seidelman: <i>Smithereens</i> (1982)*, <i>Desperately Seeking Susan</i> (1985)*, <i>Making Mr. Right</i> (1987)<br />Sydney Pollack: <i>This Property Is Condemned</i> (1966), <i>The Scalphunters</i> (1968)*</div><div><br />
Tara Johns: <i>The Year Dolly Parton Was My Mom</i> (2011)<br />
Ted Kotcheff: <i>Billy Two Hats</i> (1974)*<br />
Ted V. Mikels: <i>Girl In Gold Boots</i> (1968)*<br />
Teresa Prata: <i>Sleepwalking Land</i> (2007)<br />
Theodore Gershuny: <i>Sugar Cookies</i> (1973)<br />
Theodore Melfi: <i>Hidden Figures</i> (2016)*<br />
Thomas Michael Donnelly: <i>Quicksilver</i> (1986)<br />
Tom Buckingham: <i>The Two Johns</i> (1923)<br />
Tom Clegg: <i>Sweeney 2</i> (1978)<br />
Tom Gries: <i>Number One</i> (1969)<br />
Tom Moore: <i>Mark Of The Witch</i> (1970)<br />
Tsuneo Kobayashi: <i>Four Hours Of Terror</i> (1959)</div><div><br />
Umberto Lenzi: <i>Orgasmo</i> (1968), <i>So Sweet… So Perverse</i> (1969)</div><div><br />Věra Chytilová: <i>Daisies</i> (1966)<br />
Vernon Zimmerman: <i>Fade To Black</i> (1980)<br />
Vincente Minnelli: <i>The Sandpiper</i> (1965)</div><div><br />
Wally Campo: <i>Mark Of The Gun</i> (1969)*<br />
Wayne Wang: <i>Slam Dance</i> (1987)*<br />
William K. Howard: <i>Mary Burns, Fugitive</i> (1935)<br />
William Beaudine: <i>Why Wild Men Go Wild</i> (1920)<br />
William Davidson: <i>The Ivy League Killers</i> (1959)<br />
William Wiard: <i>Tom Horn</i> (1980)*<br />
Wolf Rilla: <i>Roadhouse Girl</i> (1953), <i>The Large Rope</i> (1953)<br />Worth Keeter: <i>Lady Grey</i> (1980)<br /><br /></div><div>
Zelda Barron: <i>Shag</i> (1989)<br /><br /></div><div>
(no director credited): <i>An Eye For Figures</i> (1920)<br /></div></div><div><br /></div><div><b>4) Best Ofs... and other lists.</b></div><div><br /></div><div><i>The Best "First Time Viewings" Of 2020</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><u>i) Creme de la creme</u></i></div><div><i><u><br /></u></i></div><div><div><i>Yi Yi </i>(Edward Yang) </div><div><i>The Devil and Daniel Johnston </i>(Jeff Feuerzig)</div><div><i>Lacombe, Lucien</i> (Louis Malle)</div><div><i>Parasite </i>(Bong Joon-ho)</div><div><i>Only Angels Have Wings </i>(Howard Hawks) </div><div><i>Bite the Bullet </i>(Richard Brooks)</div><div><i>Gaz Bar Blues </i>(Louis Belanger)</div><div><i>Antoine and Antoinette </i>(Jacques Becker)</div><div><i>Bacurau (</i>Kleber Mendonca Filho, Juliano Dornelles)</div><div><i>And Hope to Die </i>(Rene Clement)</div><div><i>The Shape of Water (</i>Guillermo del Toro)</div><div><i>Air Force</i> (Howard Hawks)</div><div><i>Rich Kids </i>(Robert M. Young) </div></div><div><i>One Week </i>(Buster Keaton, Edward F. Cline)</div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><u>ii) Honourable Mentions</u></i></div><div><i><u><br /></u></i></div><div><div><i>Cameraperson </i>(Kirsten Johnson)</div><div><i>Let's Scare Jessica to Death </i>(John Hancock)</div><div><i>Dark August </i>(Martin Goldman)</div><div><i>Perfect Friday </i>(Peter Hall)</div><div><i>Young Americans </i>(Alexander Grasshoff)</div><div><i>Fly Jefferson Airplane </i>(Bob Sarles)</div><div><i>Word Is Out: Stories of Some of Our Lives (</i>Peter Adair, Lucy Massie Phenix, Veronica Selver, Andrew Brown, Rob Epstein)</div><div><i>Murder by Contract </i>(Irving Lerner)</div><div><i>The Vast of Night (</i>Andrew Patterson)</div><div><i>The Grand Bizarre </i>(Jodie Mack)</div><div><i>The Balloonatic </i>(Buster Keaton, Edward F. Cline)</div><div><i>Quixote </i>(Bruce Baillie)</div><div><i>Mass for the Dakota Sioux </i>(Bruce Baillie)</div><div><i>International Sweethearts of Rhythm (</i>Greta Schiller, Andrea Weiss)</div><div><i>Lady Bird (</i>Greta Gerwig)</div><div><i>Bent Time</i> (Barbara Hammer)</div><div><i>Vever (For Barbara) </i>(Deborah Stratman)</div><div><i>Gone to Earth</i> (Michael Powell, Emeric Pressburger)</div></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><u>iii) New "Midnight, Cult, Whatever" Discoveries</u></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;">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.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Hell Squad </i>(Kenneth Hartford) - awesome "all-girl team of mercenaries made from showgirls" action.</div><div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Cruel Jaws </i>(Bruno Mattei) - amazing Italian Jaws rip-off</div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Dr. Frankenstein on Campus </i>(Gilbert W. Taylor) - unsung Canadian horror, made at U of T!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Bahía blanca </i>(Jess Franco) - a restoration of an unsung Franco film that begs comparison to a Howard Hawks "hangout" movie.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Action U.S.A. </i>(John Stewart) - more than what the generic title implies, very entertaining, with stunts galore.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Fade to Black </i>(Vernon Zimmerman) - rather ingenious parable of movie love taken to the extreme.</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Dead End Drive-In </i>(Brian Trenchard-Smith) - pretty brilliant post-Apoc fable.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br /></i></div><div><i><u>iv) Best Revivals of 2020</u></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;">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.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>A Cool Sound From Hell - </i>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!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Partners </i>- Ultra-obscure film from Don Owen (<i>Nobody Waved Goodbye</i>), presented as part of U of T's "Toronto Film Review" screenings, with the director's son in attendance to provide some insights.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Tribute To Barbara Hammer - </i>Retrospective of works by Barbara Hammer (see her titles above), who had recently passed away, presented by the CFMDC. Included was Deborah Stratman's <i>Vever (For Barbara)</i>, a marvellous tribute film.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Edward Owens -</i> Part of the TIFF Wavelength series, a trio of hard-to-find independent shorts by Edward Owens (see titles above).</div><div><br /></div><div><b>5) Thank You</b></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">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. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Thanks for taking the trip with us. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">All my very best - peace.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Greg</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div><br /></div></div>Greg Woodshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07781308526267978337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031085.post-29121786798070891282020-09-24T14:29:00.001-04:002020-09-24T14:32:04.733-04:00[Thursday Nostalgia] Frankenstein Must Be Snowed In<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiVAo6kK0QZqY4G0qW8GKrsTW3G25xawd84B_B6lXW9gydiSXoslSTGMSS6dsvPTk1bxoCgU65vJHi3rq0JV7PqWGHaGRf_l42xj4L_sXh0wM6vP5hP0HvqDv3fDwrhB6BqQuTQQ/s909/frank.jpg" style="clear: left; display: inline; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="909" data-original-width="580" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiVAo6kK0QZqY4G0qW8GKrsTW3G25xawd84B_B6lXW9gydiSXoslSTGMSS6dsvPTk1bxoCgU65vJHi3rq0JV7PqWGHaGRf_l42xj4L_sXh0wM6vP5hP0HvqDv3fDwrhB6BqQuTQQ/w255-h400/frank.jpg" width="255" /></a><span style="text-align: justify;"></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;">In its day, <i>Frankenstein On Campus </i>(1970) gained some notoriety as the first film to be produced with assistance from the Canadian Film Development Corporation, and summarily was met with jeers that such a film was funded by taxpayers' money (and this was years before David Cronenberg's <i>Shivers</i> received greater controversy for its public funding). The film (re-titled <i>Dr. Frankenstein On Campus</i>) was picked up for American distribution on a drive-in double bill with <i>Night Of The Witches</i>, but has been seldom seen since, except for sporadic revival screenings, or late night viewings on Canadian television (when they still showed movies). To date, it has never had an official video release (although, as of this writing, Sinister Cinema offers it for sale, and a funky copy can be viewed on YouTube). </div><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;">Way back, in a time before YouTube really became a thing (that is, when singular uploads could only be ten minutes in maximum length), yours truly had planned to attend a revival screening of this "should-be cult classic", at the University of Toronto (where it was filmed). One March weekend, the U of T Film Festival was scheduled at Hart House. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">On the Thursday night (when our tale took place), the festival would commence with <i>Horror 101</i>, a series of horror-related student films, followed by a screening of <i>Frankenstein On Campus</i>, with a panel of participants from the film! Scheduled to attend were the film's director Gilbert W. Taylor, writer-producer Bill Marshall (later a founding member of TIFF), and Paul Hoffert (of the band Lighthouse, who appears in the film's party scenes), with Rodrigo Gudino of <i>Rue Morgue</i> magazine, and Adam Lopez of Toronto’s <i>After Dark Film Festival</i>. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Alas, I didn't go, because.... and this is so Canadian... Hogtown was hit with a freak snowstorm! </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">A blizzard, coupled with wind and thunder, descended upon the city, which created a big snarl of traffic. (Our city usually turns into a commuting nightmare with the first raindrop or snowflake, but this was something else!) At the time, I was still working downtown. Our office had closed early because of the weather. I was the last to leave, either because I was still debating going to the screening after work, or just waiting it out to see how the weather would change. I now forget exactly what prompted the decision not to attend. Perhaps it was the hour-long streetcar ride to the subway (a jaunt that normally took fifteen minutes), after which I was too dragged out to wait around for an event that may have been cancelled for all I knew. Or if I had decided to go home and head out later, that decision would have changed upon arrival in our neighbourhood, when I had to walk thigh deep in snow to the front door!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Instead, the evening was more low-key, spent in the kitchen with a couple of drinks, and watching <span style="text-align: left;">Larry Buchanan's </span><i style="text-align: left;">Curse of the Swamp Creature </i><span style="text-align: left;">on the portable DVD player, while making pot roast. Still, to this day I wonder if that screening continued. This week, I finally got around to seeing the film (via a squiggly bootlegged copy), and was reminded of that crazy day all over again. Art and life were in sync: that day's frustration and ultimate surrender mirrored much of Canadian cinema in a nutshell. Our movies could be sub-titled "Cinema Of Frustration", as many narratives are characters falling short of their goals, and our feature film industry in general has a pervasive tone of self-deprecation. (This notion is deserving of its own future blog post.)</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><i>Frankenstein On Campus</i> deserves better than its resignation to bootlegs or the occasional screening, because it is much more entertaining than its reputation would have you believe, with its hip (though not jokey) sense of humour, and inventive ideas. It was understandably picked up for American distribution (such as it was), because the film doesn't <i>feel</i> Canadian, if that makes any sense. It lacks the self-conscious tone of so many Canadian genre pictures of the time. </span><span style="text-align: left;">If proper film elements still exist, a boutique company like Vinegar Syndrome should restore it for a DVD or Blu-ray release. After fifty years, it is time for this Frankenstein to rise again.</span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">While I regretted skipping that screening as soon as I set foot in the snow, I smile while thinking of those days, for it was a true <i>Cinema Paradiso </i>back then. For three years, Susan and I worked around the corner from each other. We were steps away from Cinecycle, Queen Video, Trash Palace, Centre For The Arts (where I hosted my own screenings at the time), to say nothing of numerous restaurants and taverns we'd frequent between gigs. By the end of the decade, we were both gone from this location. Our departure seemed synonymous with much of the area's re-development. Many of our favourite haunts (and "slop shops") would soon disappear as the landscape began to resemble something out of <i>Blade Runner</i>.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Oh yes, about the U of T Film Festival. The Friday night had three programs (student films, plus an initiative entitled <i>UofTube</i>, followed by a feature, <i>Drop Box</i>). On Saturday, Super 8 films were projected, with live accompaniment by Guh! (Oh, where was I then? Were we still snowed in?)</div><p></p>Greg Woodshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07781308526267978337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031085.post-79290419121587872632020-09-21T11:42:00.004-04:002020-09-21T11:46:01.107-04:00[Zine Review] Drive-In Asylum #19<p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmPMQ1OXNCVSzgi0igcXsoao39nuihK-XojRjxyBGCjzui2eGYCJyVLbkYkCZ8vyHUIzViNgGnZgW4g-2uxW2N4Jw4SOTmK7C8AQ4R8_4zqqcuMwfBTL-ICDGjj8B62jV7REucRQ/s845/il_1140xN.2302229969_qb6l.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" data-original-height="845" data-original-width="554" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmPMQ1OXNCVSzgi0igcXsoao39nuihK-XojRjxyBGCjzui2eGYCJyVLbkYkCZ8vyHUIzViNgGnZgW4g-2uxW2N4Jw4SOTmK7C8AQ4R8_4zqqcuMwfBTL-ICDGjj8B62jV7REucRQ/w263-h400/il_1140xN.2302229969_qb6l.jpg" width="263" /></a><span style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: justify;">In recent years, we've witnessed a resurgence in film-related print zines: Tim Paxton's <i>Monster!</i>; Brian Harris, Paxton and Tony Strauss's <i>Weng's Chop</i>; Mike Watt's <i>Exploitation Nation</i>; Pete Chiarella's <i>Grindhouse Purgatory</i>. The first generation of film zines (in the 1980s and 90s) was supplanted by the Internet, and blogs in a sense became the new film zine for those who follow less-than-mainstream cinema. But, to quote Tim Paxton, "The Internet is getting boring." So, it is a pleasure to see fellow film enthusiasts continuing the older tradition in print-on-demand formats. To the list of the film zine's new generation, editor-publisher Bill Van Ryn's <i>Drive-In Asylum</i> is a fine addition, itself recalling the cut-n-paste xeroxed fanzines we used to read in the heyday.</div></span></div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">To date, <i>Drive-In Asylum</i> has had twenty quarterly issues (the latest just came out, and has yet to arrive), and four special issues, "in print only". (In other words, no e-book.) If your passion lies in horror-exploitation from the drive-in's heyday, circa the 1960s to the 1980s, then this publication is a worthy addition to your shelf. In addition to film reviews, this digest-sized gem is noteworthy for other reasons. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Each issue features an interview with someone who worked before or behind the camera. For enthusiasts (like yours truly) of regionally-produced genre films from that era, these interviews are important documents of an alternative cinema history that needs to be preserved. In Issue #19, actor Terry Tenbroek shares his memories of working in the 1979 horror film <i>Delirium </i>(such as juggling his acting career with his full-time job as a firefighter), as well as other highlights in his career before the camera. After reading about this film (which was also added to the dreaded "Video Nasty" list back in the day), I had an interest to watch it. I remembered the VHS box art from my beloved Paragon label, and went to pull it from the "Paragon pile", only to discover that I didn't have this movie after all! Oops! YouTube, here I come!</p><p style="text-align: justify;">The film reviews are refreshingly personal, as Bill's writing staff often conveys how they first encountered the movies, or how much they play in their lives. For instance, in Issue #19, Joseph Perry's overview of Sunn Classic Pictures, Andy Turner on <i>Fireball Jungle</i>, Sam Panico on the late Mexploitation classic <i>Cemetery Of Terror</i> (coincidentally, being released by Vinegar Syndrome next month), and Robert Freese's <i>Manhattan Baby</i>,<i> </i>will surely give you a deja vu feeling of discovering these films for the first time at the drive-in, grindhouse or even on the late show. I especially like Roger Braden's reminisces of seeing Mario Bava's <i>Beyond The Door II</i> (aka- <i>Shock</i>) in the bottom of a drive-in triple-bill, and J.H. Rood's discovery of the <i>Thriller </i>TV series on late night television. (Note to self: research <i>Psycho Cinema</i> from KASA TV 2 in Albuquerque.) But <i>Drive-In Asylum </i>exists as more than just nostalgia. I like how JC Greening's correlates his revisiting of <i>Stray Cat Rock: Delinquent Girls</i> to the "unprecedented" times in which we now live. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Additionally, <i>Drive-In Asylum</i> is noteworthy for its eye-filling pages of vintage movie ads from newspapers and TV Guides. Their "in print only" mandate cited above is most telling here. This design simply couldn't be replicated properly in an electronic medium. (Even the front cover is designed like a marquee: the logos are the "attractions" you will read about within these pages.)</p><p style="text-align: justify;">This plethora of ads also reminds you of the moviegoing experience back in the drive-in's golden age. There were dozens of films to choose from, instead of today's usual handful. And in a time before Internet, before Rotten Tomatoes, before IMDB, you just picked something and went. Discovery is part of the fun!</p><p style="text-align: justify;">The <i>Drive-In Asylum</i> enterprise exists online in several fashions. Their Facebook group, entitled <i>Groovy Doom</i> (itself a cool title neatly summarizing a time and place), has of late featured Saturday night live streaming events, hosted by Bill and Sam, introducing a double bill of vintage exploitation. <i>Groovy Doom</i> also exists as a blog. Additionally, Sam Panico and his wife Becca review similar genre fare online in <i>B&S About Movies</i>. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">As prevalent as they are online, though, do pick up the print zine of <i>Drive-In Asylum</i>, and prepare to get lost in those pages. (Bring your own tinny speakers and mosquito coils.) You can order their zines at the link below. If you're a Canadian reader, to save shipping costs, it would be advisable to order several issues at once. (And believe me, you'll want to get a few anyway.) Check out their shop today!</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><i>Links:</i></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><a href="http://etsy.com/shop/GroovyDoom">Drive-In Asylum's online store at Etsy</a></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/GroovyDoom">Groovy Doom on Facebook</a></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><a href="http://groovydoom.blogspot.com/">Groovy Doom's blog</a></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://bandsaboutmovies.com/">B&S About Movies</a></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>Greg Woodshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07781308526267978337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031085.post-24723273470837897312020-09-20T14:15:00.005-04:002020-09-20T14:26:51.300-04:00Buyer Beware: Subway Riders on DVD<p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyjEr5DUPjeD2sRMu1Qng7fzi8oCJ7-Qi3YkBoi-ZkNtYh28QFJUIldMxVckpxiLPUk9vLTflcVC4L7zcszdzqDh7IOsafjMY7N5QURzxscJb2i-AdldTTqAaeoTDhuWoHW0t69g/s1500/91O5tLVTybL._AC_SL1500_.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1057" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyjEr5DUPjeD2sRMu1Qng7fzi8oCJ7-Qi3YkBoi-ZkNtYh28QFJUIldMxVckpxiLPUk9vLTflcVC4L7zcszdzqDh7IOsafjMY7N5QURzxscJb2i-AdldTTqAaeoTDhuWoHW0t69g/s320/91O5tLVTybL._AC_SL1500_.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">For the past several weeks, I've been on a "Downtown New York" kick, watching as many films as I can from New York's Lower East Side scene circa late 1970s to early 1990s (which included, but was not limited to, such movements as No Wave and The Cinema Of Transgression). This is timely because, of late, films by Amos Poe (a mover from this era who did cross over to comparatively mainstream success) have enjoyed a resurgence on disk. Vinegar Syndrome (via the subsidiary label, Fun City Editions) recently released <i>Alphabet City</i> to Blu-ray (review forthcoming). This month, MVD Visual has released three of his films to DVD as part of "The Amos Poe Series": <i>The Foreigner</i>, <i>Unmade Beds</i>, and <i>Subway Riders</i>. </div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">As far as I knew, <i>Subway Riders</i> had previously not been available here in any home video format, so I was thrilled to acquire a copy. That feeling quickly evaporated upon tearing off the shrink wrap and dropping the disk into the player. It is one of the most piss-poor "mastering" efforts I've ever seen, making Cheezy Flicks look like Criterion. I could live with the fact that their print was murky and washed out, knowing how hard it is sometimes to find a pristine master of such a rare title. HOWEVER. Not only is the movie stretched to 16x9 from its original 4x3 source, it is also rendered unwatchable due to interlace problems throughout. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Come on, MVD. This is really lazy shit. I was so disgusted that I watched the movie on YouTube instead. The copy currently floating on there is much more watchable, even if it has non-removable German subtitles, with better colour and in its proper aspect ratio. If Poe's other two films are presented by MVD in the same piss-poor fashion, you're better off searching instead for those two titles on the now out-of-print releases by Eclectic DVD.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">The DVD cover is posted above, so you know what to avoid. Definitely wanting a refund on this release.</p>Greg Woodshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07781308526267978337noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031085.post-40640002292478013672020-07-07T14:48:00.000-04:002020-07-07T14:48:45.519-04:00Ennio Morricone (1928 - 2020)<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEJy18FrOy7Tosc6pVho0Lz9UKIAt7WikprN025hhj7y-kZNF6MJLYErrGUH6ixzPc884ibCMHgOHqvv2DZSH_TnQP3HbfgNcsTgWK8J3WQ7_2XD_8b69piVyNnyuehJpxpOXgKg/s976/_113256495_1_ennio-morricone_getty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="650" data-original-width="976" height="333" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEJy18FrOy7Tosc6pVho0Lz9UKIAt7WikprN025hhj7y-kZNF6MJLYErrGUH6ixzPc884ibCMHgOHqvv2DZSH_TnQP3HbfgNcsTgWK8J3WQ7_2XD_8b69piVyNnyuehJpxpOXgKg/w500-h333/_113256495_1_ennio-morricone_getty.jpg" width="500" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Ennio Morricone was, for my money, the greatest film composer. Perhaps I'm biased, but he was certainly the most meaningful to me, because my cinematic education began with Sergio Leone. It was only upon viewing Leone's films, that I first paid attention to what a director could do. By extension, Lee Van Cleef was the first actor I ever cared about, and Ennio Morricone was the first film composer whose work I really explored. So enamoured was I of his work in Leone's "Dollars" trilogy (starring Clint Eastwood in his breakthrough role as The Man With No Name), that when the films aired on TV (in those pre-VCR days) I would hold my little Radio Shack tape recorder up to the big wooden box (with one little speaker) to record Morricone's music. In many ways, he was the soundtrack to my early cinephile days.</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Sergio Leone and Ennio Morricone were one of cinema's greatest director-composer teams, right up there with Hitchcock and Bernard Herrmann. One cannot think of the extreme closeups or the rugged vistas in Leone's spaghetti westerns, without recalling Morricone's distinctive tones. And vice versa, one's first thought of Morricone is perhaps his work with Leone. Yes, his name is synonymous with the spaghetti western genre (having composed for several other films than Leone's), but as his hundreds of credits evidence, Ennio Morricone was so versatile. Comedies, thrillers, historical epics, etc., had the fortune of being graced with the prolific composer. While his work was diverse, it was also distinctive for its unusual instrumentations that were novel to orchestral scores (guitars, harps, voice, reeds), or at least distinctive in how he used them: he could be easily adept at rock, psychedelia or electronics, as attested by his work in <i>giallo</i> films or John Carpenter's <i>The Thing</i>. It is rather fitting that his soundtrack for Leone's masterpiece <i>Once Upon A Time In The West</i> was included in a book of the best rock records of all time, for its guitar stings and harmonica solos (the latter presages Supertramp's "School" on the <i>Crime Of The Century</i> album.)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was often said that the best film music was that which you didn't notice. Morricone on the other hand refuted that theory. Heard without the intended accompanying visuals, his music is cinema for the ears, that could elicit excitement, melancholy, humour or pathos in equal measure. No wonder his work is so collectable (as some Morricone fans have soundtrack albums well into the triple digits): they are mini movies unto themselves. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">His sounds could bring the unfilmable to the viewer, adding psychological layers to characterization. Take the moment in Leone's <i>Once Upon A Time In The West</i> which is simply Morton staring at a painting of a seashore. Morricone elevates this moment to great tragedy, and we end up feeling pity for the villain and his unrealized dreams! As in life, there is no simple division between good and evil. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Although decades have passed since those Radio Shack days, I admittedly still return time and again to his work with Leone and other westerns. However, he left an incredible legacy of hundreds of soundtracks for numerous genres that are still there to explore, and will endure long after we all have gone to Sad Hill. (Just weeks ago, I heard for the first time his thrilling work for <i>Veruschka: Poetry Of A Woman</i>.)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Thank you, Maestro.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Here is a selected filmography of his massive résumé. (I'm sure I've neglected a favourite of yours, but this is just a sample.)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>1964:</b> A Fistful Of Dollars; Before The Revolution. <b>1965:</b> Nightmare Castle; Fists In The Pocket; For A Few Dollars More; The Return Of Ringo. <b>1966:</b> The Bible: In The Beginning; The Battle Of Algiers; The Good, The Bad And The Ugly; The Big Gundown. <b>1968:</b> Danger: Diabolik; The Mercenary; Death Rides A Horse; Teorema; Partner; Once Upon A Time In The West. <b>1970: </b>Burn!; The Red Tent; Two Mules For Sister Sara. <b>1971:</b> Duck, You Sucker; Cold Eyes Of Fear; The Cat O Nine Tails; A Lizard In A Woman's Skin; Sacco & Vanzetti. <b>1973:</b> My Name Is Nobody; Massacre In Rome. <b>1974: </b>Allonsanfan; Arabian Nights. <b>1975: </b>Salo or the 120 Days Of Sodom. <b>1976:</b> 1900. <b>1977:</b> Orca; Exorcist II: The Heretic. <b>1978: </b>Days Of Heaven; La Cage Aux Folles.<b> 1979:</b> Luna. <b>1980:</b> Windows. <b>1981: </b>So Fine. <b>1982: </b>White Dog ; The Thing. <b>1983:</b> Thieves After Dark. <b>1984:</b> Once Upon A Time In America. <b>1986:</b> The Mission. <b>1987:</b> The Untouchables. <b>1988:</b> Frantic; Cinema Paradiso. <b>1989:</b> Casualties Of War. <b>1990: </b>Hamlet; Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down!. <b>1991: </b>Bugsy. <b>1992:</b> City Of Joy. <b>1993:</b> In The Line Of Fire. <b>1994: </b>Wolf; A Pure Formality.<b> 1995: </b>The Starmaker. <b>1996: </b>The Stendahl Syndrome. <b>1997: </b>U Turn. <b>1998:</b> The Legend Of 1900; Bulworth.<b> 2000: </b>Malena. <b>2002:</b> Ripley's Game. <b>2015: </b>The Hateful Eight.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>Greg Woodshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07781308526267978337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031085.post-53206214210242253762020-06-16T14:27:00.001-04:002020-06-16T14:27:48.493-04:00Secluded Cinema: Ed Hunt's POINT OF NO RETURN<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8DvkX8zNpMsQTdrlQZQRazrFdbgeGFUaa2556_9wUuvbEXodY2CF2LnsvttbJH0cQIjoNKK9S3ehjoKeefsJlTvZkM0aGu0t3TF9QDPCbL_AgB4QF1QrZyJ0rwB4w43S6_R4wjA/s1600/Point_Of_No_Return.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8DvkX8zNpMsQTdrlQZQRazrFdbgeGFUaa2556_9wUuvbEXodY2CF2LnsvttbJH0cQIjoNKK9S3ehjoKeefsJlTvZkM0aGu0t3TF9QDPCbL_AgB4QF1QrZyJ0rwB4w43S6_R4wjA/s400/Point_Of_No_Return.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Most people's Holy Grail of Lost Films would include such famously elusive titles as Tod Browning's <i>London After Midnight</i> (1927), or F.W. Murnau's <i>Four Devils</i> (1928). Fair enough. High on my list too, is the 1976 Canadian thriller, <i>Point of No Return</i>, written and directed by the one and only Ed Hunt. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">To viewers north of the US border, Edward Hunt will always be synonymous with for the 1977 Canadian camp classic <i>Starship Invasions.</i> Seriously, how can people <i>not</i> love this movie? Say what you will about its shortcomings in the production and effects department, the movie unquestionably has a lot of heart. And no wonder it has endeared genre fans of a certain age. On that basis alone, the staff at ESR has always gone out of its way to screen anything else by the man. It is clear that Ed Hunt had something to say for himself; at the very least he sure knew how to set a mood.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
His short but eccentric career includes such curios as the creepy paranormal doc <i>UFOs Are Real</i>, the biological thriller <i>Plague</i>, and the "children run amuck" horror favourite, <i>Bloody Birthday</i>. Although Ed Hunt was born in Los Angeles, much of his filmography was Canadian-made. After another beloved piece of Canuxploitation, <i>The Brain</i>, in 1988, Mr. Hunt disappeared from the silver screen, until his 2014 comeback with <i>Halloween Hell</i>.<br />
<br />
Almost all of his feature films have been made available either on VHS or DVD. Except <i>Point Of No Return</i>. This title is included in the "Top Five Missing Films" at the Facebook group for <i>Canadian Cult Films of the 1960s, 1970s and 1980s</i>. (The other four titles will likely appear in this column at a later date.) </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Here is Clive Denton's film review, from the February 1977 issue of <i>Cinema Canada.</i> (I apologize in advance for the length of his review, but feel it's necessary to leave some kind of Internet footprint about this film.)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Whatever limitations there may be to the impact of </i>Point of No Return<i>, one thing you can say for it right away: it isn't boring. In fact, though the story it tells is basically unlikely, it seems more plausible while it lasts than did a slightly similar recent Canadian shot at a thriller. Sudden Fury.</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i> Ed Hunt has directed with some flair. The location shooting in and around Toronto (the ferries and the island, Buttonville airport) is effective and the film decidedly benefits from the presence of a young leading actor who has presence, Nicky Fylan. He possesses an aggressive charm and an ability to make even far-fetched situations convincing. With more controlling direction he might later on be, in his slightly John Garfield way, very good indeed.</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>The plot of </i>Point of No Return<i> concerns two brothers. They have some eccentric traits, such as a strong belief in flying saucers and a loyalty to the Toronto Sun. They are, otherwise, likely Canadian lads and the one brother (Fylan) is understandably peeved when the other is murdered, thrusting him (still Fylan) into what used to be called a "web of strange and baffling mystery". The film's makers also seem fairly sure that UFOs do exist and that they visit Ontario regularly, to the extent that this intriguing possibility is only a side issue of the story. What it really revolves around, not to give away too much, is the building of a "small but effective atom bomb," as the chief villain rather Goonishly describes his pet project.</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>One feels some goodwill towards this film, compared to altogether too many past Canadian features which have been more ambitious and serious but also more pretentious and dreary. Were the producers wise, however, (to be very realistic about marketing) to make their content fairly decently "Adult Entertainment" rather than blatantly "Restricted"? This inhibits fashionable swearing - the worst words having to be bypassed - and cuts off lovemaking at a discreet fadeout. (In compensation, the hero's covered crotch is often literally in focus). The film would pass the fairly tough scrutiny of audiences at theatres like (in Toronto) the Yonge or Odeon Coronet. But "Adult Entertainment" movies can only fill the lower half of an exploitation double bill.</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>As often happens, there seem to lurk ideas behind the commercial facade of </i>Point of No Return<i>. Its hero has been to jail, he has extreme violence pent up within him and yet he is vaguely trying to a reasonable life, if left to it in peace. Such issues could be made a little clearer, dwelt on more maturely and interestingly than they are. It’s possible within a thriller movie framework. Remember </i>The Big Heat,<i> </i>Cry Of The City<i>, even </i>On The Waterfront<i>. (Sorry, there are no Canadian counterparts in existence yet.) </i>Point Of No Return<i> suffers from either too much characterization (on one, purely saleable, level) or not enough (on a higher, more promising plane). To this higher plane, Ed Hunt - to his credit - surely aspires.</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>---</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This film, which co-stars familiar Canadian actors Eli Rill, Cec Linder and Susan Petrie, played briefly during the fall of 1976, in the Toronto area at least, on the bottle of a drive-in double bill with Paul Bartel's <i>Cannonball</i>! Allegedly, the film elements are now past the point of no return: residing as landfill in the Leslie Street Spit. But, according to our research, the movie did play on City TV as late as 1984. Who is to say that an early VCR owner didn't record it for posterity? </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Film titles once thought lost still get unearthed, so one is hopeful that <i>Point Of No Return </i>will be found again some day. At this remove, we'd be happy even with a chromium dioxide, EP-mode copy. Check your attics!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjorD1DbRYWjs7KJqcblVCJGTGm5MurFu7j-SBgwLZtZ06LueakiS0wwCeXNChM2PsovZ3j2Njv4c3uns6PL89vTD3aManXjM7xblve_gMHD5iErmk0kD5P8hHOzAe9nXzyuv49xg/s960/12493571_10153265123547411_2556431762106541160_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="696" height="625" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjorD1DbRYWjs7KJqcblVCJGTGm5MurFu7j-SBgwLZtZ06LueakiS0wwCeXNChM2PsovZ3j2Njv4c3uns6PL89vTD3aManXjM7xblve_gMHD5iErmk0kD5P8hHOzAe9nXzyuv49xg/w454-h625/12493571_10153265123547411_2556431762106541160_o.jpg" width="454" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></div>
Greg Woodshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07781308526267978337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031085.post-53482108602915377692019-09-13T11:27:00.000-04:002019-09-18T12:07:18.599-04:00What's Old Is New Again<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBaNT8DaMnmOiZQC6UKEOUJtnHmz4Vy6b4gHHbxhG6pzYrbfreFfBFRKPjfPPTyBvlgXMXxVuFk_da053tD95e37tiUaIfUK3QqVuz8nxnA_fnXdQsGOHRPD4uP06IHS_BUwbkkQ/s1600/screen-grabs2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="96" data-original-width="530" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBaNT8DaMnmOiZQC6UKEOUJtnHmz4Vy6b4gHHbxhG6pzYrbfreFfBFRKPjfPPTyBvlgXMXxVuFk_da053tD95e37tiUaIfUK3QqVuz8nxnA_fnXdQsGOHRPD4uP06IHS_BUwbkkQ/s1600/screen-grabs2.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The other night, as part of our continued fall reboot, we watched the new Shout! Factory Blu-Ray of the 1971 Hammer horror classic, <i>Blood From The Mummy's Tomb</i>. Our third issue included a long review of the film, which was then just released by Anchor Bay (now long out of print). ESR #3 came out of the printer the night before our first public appearance, at Canzine 2001. It so happens the 2019 edition of Canzine occurs this weekend. We’re not tabling there, but the event fittingly coincides with the Blu-Ray release, and our long delayed re-launch.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This is just another curious case of déjà vu felt in the past week, as we prepare our return to print. This narrative should just be a sequel, picking up where we left off. Instead, life right now feels like a 12-inch remix, where patterns are being repeated. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Last Friday, I attended Killer B Cinema’s screening of <i>3 Dev Adam</i>, their first such event at a new venue, See-Scape on Keele St. In 2018, they held monthly shows at The Imperial Pub, where our Toronto Film Noir Syndicate also had screenings in the first four months of the year. During that time, it was a great micro-cinema collective happening, with two different film groups sharing the same venue, and promoting each other. As usual, Lizzie and Zoltan put on a tight, solid program Friday night, and I wish them every future success at their new location.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie5_6BBb0anpyfVPtBtq2CGjdbYwuS5pzmKkMMY-W27iRGy2jXuNI43-q-SsXNcDmM4TbREg6pDpfNEf0wPH-zlitmRPQ785Ac2Ex2lAx70rFUxygJhOMetFUmtD0K4o_SnR6W3A/s1600/Shelf_Life_Still_All_Three_Watching_TV.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="844" data-original-width="1500" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie5_6BBb0anpyfVPtBtq2CGjdbYwuS5pzmKkMMY-W27iRGy2jXuNI43-q-SsXNcDmM4TbREg6pDpfNEf0wPH-zlitmRPQ785Ac2Ex2lAx70rFUxygJhOMetFUmtD0K4o_SnR6W3A/s400/Shelf_Life_Still_All_Three_Watching_TV.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Shelf Life</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
On Saturday night, the Royal Cinema presented a “25th anniversary” screening of Paul Bartel’s final film as a director, 1993’s ultra rare <i>Shelf Life</i>. I didn’t know until arriving that they projected Bartel’s own 35mm print, which had recently been unearthed at AMPAS! In 1995, the late actor-director showed this film at Toronto’s (now long gone) Euclid Cinema. He toured the film in several cites with the reels under his arm, in true indie fashion, but the movie sadly did not find a distributor, and has remained in obscurity. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Although it never had an official home video release, I rented a squiggly VHS bootleg of <i>Shelf Life </i>in the early 2000s. Whatever my thoughts of it at the time, they were no doubt influenced by the conditions under which it was viewed. Let us just say that seeing <i>Shelf Life</i> in its proper milieu greatly enhanced my appreciation. The film has been touring, with its three cast members, in the same word of mouth fashion their director tried a quarter century ago. I hope this time it finds its deserved audience. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A while back, I held a Facebook poll: should I continue with the issue numbering that we left in 2012, or start the next one with “Volume 2, Number 1”? Both of my Facebook friends unanimously voted for the latter, and I agreed with that decision. When Jean-Luc Godard returned to commercial filmmaking in 1980 after a long layoff, he had referred to his then-new project, <i>Sauve Qui Peut</i>, as his “second” first film. I get what he meant. After our own Sabbatical, this return to the printed page feels like I’m starting <i>The Eclectic Screening Room</i> from scratch all over again.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Once we re-launch the website in the next few weeks, we move right into the first new print issue in over seven years. Preparing this “new” first issue mirrors that feeling in the fall of 2001, when everything had to get done myself. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In the past three years, I’ve twice attempted to resurrect ESR. I had called for submissions, and some work did trickle in. Other pieces were to come, and didn’t materialize, largely because I didn’t proactively follow up, and that writers probably surmised I wasn’t serious enough about it. Sure, life once again got in the way of revisiting ESR, but deep down I sensed I still wasn’t ready. Therefore, in this new attempt at re-launching the publication, I don’t want to disappoint more people. I need to earn their respect all over again. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Oh. And why was ESR already into its third issue when it made that first public appearance eighteen years ago? I wanted to produce a body of work to show people (and myself) that I was serious about it. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Two things of note did get printed during those seven years away from ESR. The first issue of <i>Eurofantasmo</i> was done as a birthday screening giveaway. (Its second instalment, “the all Carroll Baker issue”, awaits completion.) The other, more personal publication however, was made for an audience of one: me!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
On the way to retaining my writing headspace, I felt it therapeutic to re-read some of my own words. One night, I printed a forty-page, digest-sized compendium of all the sixty-odd film reviews I had submitted to the IMDB early in the last decade.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
These pieces were usually posted during my lunch breaks, while chowing down on French fries with mustard from Mr. Tasty, written in order to “stay in shape” between publishing. Whether or not my opinions of the films would change, I’d now certainly use different words to voice them. These reviews hardly rival André Bazin, but they possess the clarity, and perhaps boldness, that I’ve lacked in recent years.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Because the reviews specialize in (but are not limited to) Grade Z genre movies or underground-experimental cinema, they appear focused thanks to my personal identification with both of these forms. Whether they are perceived as (respectively) lowest common denominator trash or highbrow art, these kinds of films share a common theme: they are works made from hunger. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In those days, when it was a miracle to still have five bucks in my pocket by the next paycheque, I felt a kinship in the hand-to-mouth existence of these filmmaking renegades. The insistence to make these unconventional movies, despite little means, mirrored the desire to get my Xeroxed words into the world. It was essential to life!<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTkFy6aYkVomqjdWh9nlpcAk-v3Den27Z0hAYws1Lm4CR-Y3RlnZyQEHFbjBtH4QyIOd45HtwrR4gbGtxqz7gbFQ3HBe_mcevup8JQHOvfKQEY_h1-wIzkaKe4XPF7JUT67zNhHA/s1600/Synthia2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1080" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTkFy6aYkVomqjdWh9nlpcAk-v3Den27Z0hAYws1Lm4CR-Y3RlnZyQEHFbjBtH4QyIOd45HtwrR4gbGtxqz7gbFQ3HBe_mcevup8JQHOvfKQEY_h1-wIzkaKe4XPF7JUT67zNhHA/s400/Synthia2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Sinthia: The Devil's Doll</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This urgency came to mind last night as I finally got around to watch Ray Dennis Steckler’s 1970 Freudian nightmare, <i>Sinthia: The Devil’s Doll</i>. Somehow I missed this during the old days, when early issues of ESR featured a semi-regular Steckler gush-a-thon. What would I have thought of this, uh, “thing” back when I wrote about that murky expression found in underground movies viewed in musty basements, or in 60s sexploitation films on high-contrast VHS tapes from Something Weird? </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I could just picture myself hunched over that old Mac IIsi, wolfing down something from Mr. Tasty, buzzed on the second pot of coffee, comparing its dreamlike narrative to the psychodramas of the New American Cinema, where different timeframes fold into one another, and separate characters represent multiple things. I also might have referenced Kenneth Anger in its makeup, art direction and lighting colour palette. Last night’s reaction however was similar to how your stomach feels like a boulder after taking meds without food. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In the IIsi days, I probably would’ve said that its excruciating tedium is necessary to attain its unique language, and how it meretriciously plods towards a new cinematic form, while under the pretense of a sexploitation film. One day later, while replaying the movie in my mind (much easier to have seen than to sit through), I do concede that there <i>is </i>something going on beneath its lumbering execution. I believe what I would’ve written after all.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
What’s old is new again.</div>
Greg Woodshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07781308526267978337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031085.post-8620375401678230802019-09-05T23:23:00.001-04:002019-09-18T12:12:15.467-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBaNT8DaMnmOiZQC6UKEOUJtnHmz4Vy6b4gHHbxhG6pzYrbfreFfBFRKPjfPPTyBvlgXMXxVuFk_da053tD95e37tiUaIfUK3QqVuz8nxnA_fnXdQsGOHRPD4uP06IHS_BUwbkkQ/s1600/screen-grabs2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="96" data-original-width="530" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBaNT8DaMnmOiZQC6UKEOUJtnHmz4Vy6b4gHHbxhG6pzYrbfreFfBFRKPjfPPTyBvlgXMXxVuFk_da053tD95e37tiUaIfUK3QqVuz8nxnA_fnXdQsGOHRPD4uP06IHS_BUwbkkQ/s1600/screen-grabs2.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<h2>
<b>Long Goodbyes</b></h2>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
Would a Greg Woods blog post exist without some sort of apology?<br />
<br />
It would figure that my first post of 2019 appears two-thirds of the way into the "new year". Recently, a friend emailed inquiring what was going on with this blog, so it's re-assuring that someone still supports ESR, even years after its last public appearance has faded from memory. Preferably, personal matters are discussed online only in the context of the work itself, and that warrants inclusion here, if to contextualize the long absence from this space, and for that matter, where I see it heading.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
Last fall, my dad passed away after battling ALS for more than a year. He tried to live independently for as long as he could until April, 2018, when it became apparent that he would have to go to a nursing home. I had spent that spring and summer cleaning out his place, auctioning off his stuff, taking care of his bills and things like that. Alas, his health decreased in the ensuing months, and he passed away peacefully on November 20. Even though we knew the prognosis, I figured (perhaps naively) that he still had more time left. I felt there was still time left for us to talk.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
While he passed before this disease robbed him of any more functionality, I regret not being able to ask him more questions; I'm sorry I couldn't <i>tell him</i> more. I wish that my goodbye to him on November 19 wasn't so feeble. I don't even know if he was conscious enough to have heard me. And even then, I didn't consider that he would pass the next day. He had rebounded before, and to my mind, he could do so again. Alas, time waits for no one.<br />
<br />
This spring we held an informal, secular gathering with family, while we interred his ashes with his siblings, and read a couple of elegies. He didn't even want this much to honour him by, but I felt there should be an indication that he <i>was</i> here, and that he <i>did</i> make a difference. Even so, because I kind of went against his wishes, even for benevolent reasons, I still question if I made the right choice. The passing of a loved one also forces us to look inward. We reminisce about our times spent together, but we also ponder our own purpose on this earth. What kind of legacy am I leaving behind? What marker will say that I was here? Ultimately, under such grim circumstances, we're reminded of how much a fragile gift that life is, and that we must take advantage of it as much as we can.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
During the past few months, we have made attempts to get "back to normal" and enjoy life again. It's been hard to get into the writing headspace again, but I'm trying. I still have great plans to rejuvenate ESR (plus launch one or two other projects I'm sure you'll dig) in the near future. So, if you've supported us in any way through the years, or if you just happened to discover these words for the first time, we thank you, and we hope that the best is yet to come.<br />
<br />
Part of our "getting back to normal" is also in reviving this regular column. <i>Screen Captures</i> will expound on cinematic themes or topics of the moment, plus continue to serve as a living document of the local film scene that exists on the fringes. This week's column continues its autumnal theme of saying goodbye, and acceptance that all good things must pass.<br />
<br />
<b>2 For 1 Movies</b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7LQJik-K7SVG974JGRjsT5xnL-I1dgC38NkSS2jGrMImQiXWe_DVbKS52nOuRdKHh1_W1F5RAVEFylL7auzLKyKzIQYZBl_gVjeYA5JMGzFmQ2bDPjYbBxmGoETqgII_MekD0Rg/s1600/Screen+Shot+2019-09-05+at+6.21.34+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="587" data-original-width="531" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7LQJik-K7SVG974JGRjsT5xnL-I1dgC38NkSS2jGrMImQiXWe_DVbKS52nOuRdKHh1_W1F5RAVEFylL7auzLKyKzIQYZBl_gVjeYA5JMGzFmQ2bDPjYbBxmGoETqgII_MekD0Rg/s320/Screen+Shot+2019-09-05+at+6.21.34+PM.png" width="289" /></a></div>
It comes with a heavy heart to announce that after over 30 years in business, <i>2 For 1 Movies</i>, one of Toronto's last surviving video stores, is closing its doors. Located next door to the Humber Cinema at Bloor and Jane, this store served as "my local" for years in terms of renting videos. In its heyday, it was open from noon to midnight, seven days a week. As per its namesake, you could get two non-new releases for the price of one: two movies, two days, four bucks.<br />
<br />
During the video store boom, there also existed other independent stores across the street and a few blocks above, plus a Blockbuster just two doors west of them. Amidst great adversity, <i>2 For 1</i> outlasted all of them (which shut down over a decade ago), and even some of the city's better known independent shops that have called it a day.<br />
<br />
In the past few years, we've seen the closures of Suspect Video and Culture, Queen Video, The Film Buff, Movie Art Decor, and several others. It was re-assuring to see that these guys were still around, and that half of their inventory still consisted of VHS! The bleached poster of <i>Doc Hollywood</i> on its door signified its <i>Precinct 13</i>-like oasis in the midst of changing times. In recent years however, their business hours sharply decreased, since it was run by two men of retirement age. I won't pretend to fall on my sword in false allegiance, as my visits at <i>2 For 1</i> have been fewer and farther between over the years, and not just because of shortened operating hours.<br />
<br />
The news of their closure comes with little surprise, as they were the only business still open on that north side strip of Bloor St. The second-to-last remaining business, Humber Cinema, abruptly closed this summer. After many years of back and forth, it appears that this chunk of land is now being appropriated for, you guessed it, more overpriced condos.<br />
<br />
During the summer, before the news of <i>2 For 1</i>'s closure became known, I had visited the store for the first time in ages. It was saddening to see the disrepair of the store's interior. Paint was peeling, and the musty wall-to-wall carpet was dotted with the foam that absorbs water. Small wonder that these gentlemen sit outside during the four and a half hours that the shop is open for business.<br />
<br />
As their final days loom, they've been selling off their entire inventory. This weekend I joined the handful of likeminded collectors who picked through the dust-covered VHS cases, especially looking for rarities that never made the transition to DVD or BluRay. Some of the armful of treasures I brought home were nostalgic choices, "for old times' sake": titles I had rented, which were reviewed in ESR. I had to pick up the Trylon VHS release of <i>The Glory Stompers</i>, which was featured in ESR #2, our first Drive-In Issue. Other mementos included two Luis Bunuel films, <i>Nazarin</i> and <i>Illusion Travels By Streetcar</i>, included in my two-part article on the director's "for hire" films in Mexico.<br />
<br />
<b>The Cat's Pajamas Signs Off</b><br />
<br />
What is it about our collective psyche that gives importance to anniversaries ending in fives or zeroes? Are those ending in threes or sevens no less worthy? During this back to school season, my interior landscape is forced to remember a "back to school" anniversary ending in a zero: when I first moved to the city to study film at York University.<br />
<br />
School started on Monday the 11th, one week after Labour Day. On Tuesday the 5th, I had journeyed up to move in to residence on campus. The next two days were spent exploring the campus and the immediate neighbourhood. On Thursday, first-year film students had a "meet and greet" at the Faculty of Fine Arts building. My mother came up for the day, chauffeured by my cousin and his wife. For whatever reason, I drove back to Birdtown on the Friday, and returned to Toronto on the Sunday just before one day before classes officially began.<br />
<br />
Beginning a new life chapter can also be bittersweet. In the previous year, I had returned to high school to upgrade my average and improve my portfolio for admission to film school. Within those ten months, I had gone from zero to hero: making a feature-length video, appearing in two plays (one of which went as far as the Sears Drama Festival's semi-finals), and obtaining a new circle of friends. Alas, in the final four weeks before university, I was going back to zero again, as that world I had created was dissipating, in light of this new phase. I had achieved what I set out to do, but hadn't expected to pay such a price of finality. It took a long time time to accept that and move on.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
In that final month before university, there was no big send-off for this boy. That only happens in the movies, right? Alas, this epic ended with a lot of tiny goodbyes. One of them <i>was</i> film related in a way.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6W-vCFRixRpyJR2dqrOrGOEOFZp-O-b66ErIvSF15WEhwYrKnYu2sqluvzFRaHTw0E_j8VZBax1W-2D6qMhyphenhyphenehUzwkykXNgvEzxM3Vj-f3mIT71coqEdJvRjPyZdSDs9q9DJ9EA/s1600/189688_5969405534_4666_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="303" data-original-width="395" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6W-vCFRixRpyJR2dqrOrGOEOFZp-O-b66ErIvSF15WEhwYrKnYu2sqluvzFRaHTw0E_j8VZBax1W-2D6qMhyphenhyphenehUzwkykXNgvEzxM3Vj-f3mIT71coqEdJvRjPyZdSDs9q9DJ9EA/s200/189688_5969405534_4666_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
One of the most important film educations during high school age was <i>The Cat's Pajamas,</i> an all-night movie show which ran for several years on WGRZ (Buffalo's NBC affiliate). I have, and will continue to memorialize this program numerous times in this blog, such significance does it have to my personal makeup. It was a veritable film school in its (forgive me) eclectic programming of horror, kung fu, classic comedies, and TV movies, to list only a few highlights. Seeing these films in warmed, less than pristine prints, coupled with static, just added to the dreamlike experience that painted such comforting images onto your oxygen-deprived mind that wavered in and out of consciousness. This program was also a surrogate friend to many in those late-night hours. It is sadly fitting that here was another friend saying goodbye, just before I started university.<br />
<br />
On that Friday night cited above, where I came back to Birdtown for the weekend prior to classes starting, I had arrived at my mother's house well after she had retired for the evening. The house was quiet and in darkness. I elected to make a bed out of the couch, so as not to make a disturbance up the creaking stairs. Before nodding off, I put the TV on for a bit, lying inches from the screen, with the volume down low, just like I used to do in those renegade days of sneaking on the late late show when I should’ve been asleep. A very weird movie was on. Under these viewing circumstances, it seemed so otherworldly, so larger than life. It was 1966's <i>Chamber Of Horrors</i>, broadcast on <i>The Cat's Pajamas</i>.<br />
<br />
Admittedly, I hadn't watched this program much in the past year, since I was so busy. Only now, upon looking at old TV listings of the day, is it apparent that my inattentiveness was because by then WGRZ's late night schedule mostly consisted of infomercials! The only remnant of traditional Cat's PJs programming was a movie on Friday nights. That night felt like a brief visit with an old friend again. I would later learn that <i>Chamber Of Horrors</i> was the penultimate airing. On Friday Sept. 15, <i>The Cat's Pajamas</i> quietly signed off for good after showing the feature-length TV pilot for <i>Search</i>.<br />
<br />
Although I've since viewed <i>Chamber Of Horrors</i> in its entirety and with greater clarity, this night's gaze, viewed with an overtired brain and the volume way down, was a surreal experience. It felt like a satellite transmission from an extraterrestrial being. You don't understand the language, but you know what the cadences mean. It was to say: "Thank for you all your love and support over the years. It is time for us for leave. You are moving on and so must we. Take and use what you've learned from us. Think of us now and again."<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeFz0fpo1l6olPtllebi2xTH5J4UbwB9acpFXVLTOLakP7SVlC0nYKulx5CZaee8PllIhEjJUpei5leVJNCid-4fS2qZNHEVrSPYYhTH9MigR8rQ6DmBPQPNSEHDD2YDAbZTsIGw/s1600/PDVD_003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="853" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeFz0fpo1l6olPtllebi2xTH5J4UbwB9acpFXVLTOLakP7SVlC0nYKulx5CZaee8PllIhEjJUpei5leVJNCid-4fS2qZNHEVrSPYYhTH9MigR8rQ6DmBPQPNSEHDD2YDAbZTsIGw/s400/PDVD_003.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<i>Chamber Of Horrors. </i>Add some fuzzy, static filter from your iPhone to achieve woozy "late night movie" effect.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
+++</div>
<br />
And on this note, we'll leave with some notifications of a couple upcoming events. Apparently there is some big film festival going on right now. But for us mortals who can't afford the $109.75 to breathe the same air as Brad Pitt, here are a couple of interesting options.<br />
<br />
<b>Paul Bartel's <i>Shelf Life</i></b><br />
Paul Bartel's final feature as a director, 1993's <i>Shelf Life</i>, has never had a proper release. He presented the film in person here in 1995 during an engagement at the long-gone Euclid cinema. Since then, the film has been rarely seen. This Saturday, the Royal is presenting a screening with its cast in attendance! This black comedy, of a 60s nuclear family that spends years in a bomb shelter, is not to be missed. Sat. Sept. 7 at 8 PM. For further information, and tickets, <a href="http://theroyal.to/movies/paul-bartels-shelf-life-with-cast-in-attendance/" target="_blank">visit here</a>.<br />
<br />
<b>It's Alive! Classic Horror and Sci-Fi Art from the Kirk Hammett Collection</b><br />
Metallica guitarist Kirk Hammett's collection of sci-fi and horror memorabilia is on display at the ROM until January 5, 2020. But why wait? That $41.75 TIFF gala will be an eight dollar DVD before Christmas. Check out this amazing exhibit today! For further information, <a href="https://www.rom.on.ca/en/exhibitions-galleries/exhibitions/its-alive-classic-horror-and-sci-fi-art-from-the-kirk-hammett-0" target="_blank">visit here</a>!<br />
<br />
Thanks for reading. More cinematic goodness next week!<br />
<br /></div>
Greg Woodshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07781308526267978337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9031085.post-35181610369346537682018-10-18T23:46:00.000-04:002019-09-18T12:24:10.196-04:00Screen Captures #3: Ed Wood Night At The Movies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBaNT8DaMnmOiZQC6UKEOUJtnHmz4Vy6b4gHHbxhG6pzYrbfreFfBFRKPjfPPTyBvlgXMXxVuFk_da053tD95e37tiUaIfUK3QqVuz8nxnA_fnXdQsGOHRPD4uP06IHS_BUwbkkQ/s1600/screen-grabs2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="96" data-original-width="530" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBaNT8DaMnmOiZQC6UKEOUJtnHmz4Vy6b4gHHbxhG6pzYrbfreFfBFRKPjfPPTyBvlgXMXxVuFk_da053tD95e37tiUaIfUK3QqVuz8nxnA_fnXdQsGOHRPD4uP06IHS_BUwbkkQ/s1600/screen-grabs2.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBaNT8DaMnmOiZQC6UKEOUJtnHmz4Vy6b4gHHbxhG6pzYrbfreFfBFRKPjfPPTyBvlgXMXxVuFk_da053tD95e37tiUaIfUK3QqVuz8nxnA_fnXdQsGOHRPD4uP06IHS_BUwbkkQ/s1600/screen-grabs2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
October the 10th would have been the 94th birthday of cult cinema’s patron saint, the redoubtable Edward D. Wood, Jr. His Grade Z genre films such as <i>Plan 9 From Outer Space</i> and <i>Bride Of The Monster</i> are remembered for their inane dialogue and cardboard production values, peopled with Hollywood stars well past their glory days, such as Bela Lugosi whose twilight years were riddled with drug addiction, or Wood's own stock company of outsiders and hapless hopefuls. Wood's offscreen penchant for wearing women's clothing (angora was a favourite) was also the topic of his feature debut <i>Glen Or Glenda</i>, in which he also appeared onscreen in the title role(s).</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgckYONSlHuh4k-tDR0QtHx1IwS7V1FtJfsv5qbD-76iijz5YNHyV_wH26C2gfMjowhwlNX9fVOUGEunMXuMQYwmoLu7kaRv0o2O_seo4sP1Z7AnVun_7KTx_MFnNj3zq5n5T8FSA/s1600/ed-wood1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1379" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgckYONSlHuh4k-tDR0QtHx1IwS7V1FtJfsv5qbD-76iijz5YNHyV_wH26C2gfMjowhwlNX9fVOUGEunMXuMQYwmoLu7kaRv0o2O_seo4sP1Z7AnVun_7KTx_MFnNj3zq5n5T8FSA/s320/ed-wood1.jpg" width="274" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>The one, the only, Edward D. Wood, Jr.</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
In 1978, Wood passed away at the age of 54, penniless and forgotten, just a few years before his work was rediscovered by cult movie fans, under the banner of "so bad it's good". The cult of Wood grew formidably over the years, prompting the publication of Rudolph Grey's 1992 biography <i>Nightmare Of Ecstasy</i>, and the release of Tim Burton's giddy 1994 Hollywood biopic <i>Ed Wood</i>, featuring Johnny Depp as Wood, and Martin Landau in his Oscar-winning performance as Lugosi. The movie -which chronicles his heyday of his beloved classics, and ends before his decline into alcoholism and pornography- deserved to be a mega-hit, but it sadly under-performed at the box office in first-run. The film however had a strong shelf life on VHS and cable, where it no doubt found the majority of its fans. The renewed interest in Edward D. Wood also prompted the release of numerous documentaries about the man and his movies, and his filmography was reissued to unfamiliar viewers. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
In those days, there still existed a reasonably sized window between a film’s theatrical run and its eventual home video release, so that it could still enjoy a healthy lifespan in repertory cinemas before going to tape. So once <i>Ed Wood</i> hit second-run, Toronto’s repertory circuit had a field day with it.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
The film was often paired in a double bill, shared with one of Wood's key films (<i>Plan 9 From Outer Space,</i> <i>Glen or Glenda</i>). However, the apex of "Ed Wood Mania" was on a snowy Friday (the 13th, no less) in January of 1995, when The Bloor Cinema showed a "one night only" quadruple bill of Ed Wood movies that were not as regularly viewed: <i>Jail Bait</i>, <i>Bride Of The Monster</i>, <i>Night Of The Ghouls</i>, and <i>The Sinister Urge</i>. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
In honour of Mr. Wood's birthday, and his often misunderstood legacy, today's column will share the experience of that night, which would be one of the greatest screenings I've attended in my entire life. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
"Rocky Horror" notwithstanding, never a more eclectic crowd have I seen at the cinema than on this crazy, crazy night: pimply geeks with black rimmed glasses, hippie stoners, people in black trenchcoats (and matching lipstick)… even a dapperly dressed older gentleman I chatted with in the ticket line ("He SHOULD get a star in Hollywood! He had gumption!"). Some may ask, "How was this different from the clientele any other night at the Bloor back then?" Well all right, they were just in greater abundance. And how! </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
When <i>Jail Bait</i> began at 7 PM, there was still a lineup around the corner of patrons slowly being admitted to the theatre. If the two-floor cinema wasn't filled to capacity that night, it was damn close. Because the staff was still shambling to get bums into chairs, I too missed the opening of Ed Wood's eccentric film noir, but once I found a seat up close and centre, and heard the ubiquitous piano and flamenco guitar score coming from the speakers, I was in cult movie heaven.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
In between flicks, you had just enough time to get some refreshments or go outside for a smoke (...of something). During one such break, I wandered to the lobby for my fifteenth coffee, and picked up a handbill from (the much-missed) Admit One Video, which advertised Ed Wood VHS tapes for sale. I can't remember now if they co-presented the night's festivities, but it would stand to reason, as it was doubtful that all (or any) of these movies were projected on film. One movie opened with the Admit One logo displaying before the credits.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyX4a3gE2kjSIGPTo0VOpY14ZTXm0dW6Rv8azXj2P9Fwn4ABVz5_1mSHJPW5PV_iZbUXRWi9oMJlxkwQx1wMValBI_yTd6CkiFJfPO36bBvn1YA5k51jKkOu8Tuj_WcZuDE2ktBw/s1600/MV5BYjgwNzE1MzUtYjgwOS00YTlhLWExNGItYWY1OTAyNTQwMjU4XkEyXkFqcGdeQXVyMTAxODYyODI%2540._V1_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="692" data-original-width="907" height="305" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyX4a3gE2kjSIGPTo0VOpY14ZTXm0dW6Rv8azXj2P9Fwn4ABVz5_1mSHJPW5PV_iZbUXRWi9oMJlxkwQx1wMValBI_yTd6CkiFJfPO36bBvn1YA5k51jKkOu8Tuj_WcZuDE2ktBw/s400/MV5BYjgwNzE1MzUtYjgwOS00YTlhLWExNGItYWY1OTAyNTQwMjU4XkEyXkFqcGdeQXVyMTAxODYyODI%2540._V1_.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Criswell in <b>Night Of The Ghouls</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
Even if we were seeing video, it hardly mattered: it was a blast just to see this stuff on a big screen, and with a large audience (likely a bigger and more appreciative crowd than any of these films received in their initial releases). For instance, the second feature, <i>Bride Of The Monster</i> (the only one of this quartet I had seen previously) was definitely shown on video based on its soft appearance, but I don't think anybody cared. The place shook with applause when Bela Lugosi's name appeared in the credits- likewise for Tor Johnson's. The thunder continued in the next offering, <i>Night Of The Ghouls</i>, the long-lost sequel to <i>Plan 9</i> and <i>Bride Of The Monster</i>! The projectionist briefly lost the sound during the film's opening with the famed Criswell, whose psychic abilities were equal parts clairvoyance and caca, but it mattered not, since the crowd was so boisterous, we wouldn't have heard his dialogue anyway. Similarly, the audience would shout their approval to the screen every time the floating trumpet appeared. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
Although perhaps to some, this cinematic experience was being enhanced as evidenced by the, uh, "herbal fragrances" in the air, I didn't partake. I've never, ever, been able to view a film under the influence of alcohol or grass... I'd fall asleep first. My movie-watching drug of choice has always been copious amounts of caffeine. (Truthfully, with all the energy in the hall that night, we all could have grasped a natural high.) Still, after working all day in Thornhill and hightailing it down to the cinema right after, all the better to be wired on the bean, so I was still wide-eyed and giddy as the evening concluded with my favourite picture of the four, <i>The Sinister Urge</i>. Ed Wood's daft "cautionary fable" about the dangers of pornography is epitomized by the writer-director's stock company of hard-working cops in pursuit of some knife-wielding loony driven to attacking women in the park, all due to (gasp!) looking at women's bloomers in smut publications. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
With the exception of <i>Bride Of The Monster</i>, the night's films were the least-seen of his "legit" oeuvre: best-known largely to veteran Ed Wood cultists. One could say that Wood's off-screen persona eclipsed many of the films shown that night. But life and art intersected in one pivotal moment of <i>The Sinister Urge </i>when the cops decide to have an undercover officer dress up as a woman to bait the killer. The audience went NUTS, anticipating the director's Hitchockian onscreen cameo.</div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhA05VOL6mh09Vn4jgBeGW3UtGH-hAJPEx3SSKtfK_RQQgKBUmdTP_bXJnmAINOm38w7fXSNSSrlN3XybWa4tBRira4L8Pf0lz18x7kok797o5Ioxv4GTOkuCG6RJy7gEvclfyYg/s1600/MV5BMGM4NzNmYTAtNzg4Ni00YmQzLTllMzAtNWZiZWJkZjY5MjE4XkEyXkFqcGdeQXVyMTQ2MjQyNDc%2540._V1_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="905" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhA05VOL6mh09Vn4jgBeGW3UtGH-hAJPEx3SSKtfK_RQQgKBUmdTP_bXJnmAINOm38w7fXSNSSrlN3XybWa4tBRira4L8Pf0lz18x7kok797o5Ioxv4GTOkuCG6RJy7gEvclfyYg/s320/MV5BMGM4NzNmYTAtNzg4Ni00YmQzLTllMzAtNWZiZWJkZjY5MjE4XkEyXkFqcGdeQXVyMTQ2MjQyNDc%2540._V1_.jpg" width="212" /></a>Thanks to the Medveds and their Golden Turkey Awards (which, granted, was a catalyst in resurrecting his movies), Edward D. Wood garnered the reputation as the worst director of all time, for all of these films that fall under the "so-bad-they're-good" realm. Personally, I've never been comfortable with the "so-bad-it's-good" maxim, as much as I understand its resonance to people. How can movies so entertaining, imaginative and sneakily subversive be "bad"? To be sure, some viewers came out to have some laughs at the technical ineptitude, way-out dialogue, and corny special effects. But I think too, a lot of the laughter came from the element of surprise and, yes, amazement.<br />
<br />
Therein, I think, lies the enduring appeal of Ed Wood's cinema (and no, that phrase is not contradictory). Whatever his deficiencies, lacking the attributes of any conventional Hollywood director, his movies are always imaginative, innocently entertaining, and full of enthusiasm. He worked on the fringes of a movie industry that otherwise ignored him, and yet created a mini-Hollywood of his own. He made micro-budgeted valentines to the genres he loved, and (years before the Warhol Superstar ideology) made cult legends out of his eccentric stock company of actors. Despite how his movies appear on the surface, they remain products of a classic Hollywood outsider who succeeded in making a personal, identifiable body of work despite the odds, that people still talk about 60 years on. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
Having said that though, if they decided to replicate this screening for today's audience, it just wouldn't be the same. Regardless of the things we loved to joke about Ed Wood's films, we also <i>appreciated</i> those movies. Today, I'd fear that the program would be sabotaged by the accompaniment of all the "ironic", condescending remarks emanated from these disruptive hipsters who pollute every goddamn cult movie revival screening nowadays with their ridiculous notion that they somehow have to exert their superiority to whatever spools onscreen. At least in my earshot, there was none of that bullshit: everybody was just having a great time. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
I attended this screening alone, because none of my college mates wanted to go. But after spending five hours in these walls with several hundred strangers who were digging these movies as I was, I quickly realized something. This was the scene I was looking for. I wanted in. Funnily enough, I now know several people who were at this screening, although we were years away from having known each other. The mind is tickled by the possibilities that I could've brushed past future friends while grabbing the next coffee between films. Still, those people are in my life now, one way or another, because of the film zine I published for twelve years.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
I think Andre Breton, the founder of Surrealism, would've found much worth in the films of Ed Wood. A quote by Breton that I value greatly certainly figures into this experience: "One publishes to find comrades." That phrase I think also equally works for Wood's films. His work continues to speak to all of us outcasts who reject the conventional societal norms and attempt to build our own little worlds.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
+++</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<b>Free Screening! Tomorrow Night!</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
Stephen Broomer is back in Toronto to show his amazing experimental film, <i>Potamkin</i>, inspired the writings of 1930s film critic Harry Alan Potamkin. This is the thirteenth screening of the Ad Hoc collective, presented at Innis College, 2 Sussex Ave., Room 222, 7PM! Did I mention, it's free? Don't miss it!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<b>Saturday! Independent Video Store Day!</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
In honour of the 8th Annual Independent Video Store Day, where video stores across the continent are celebrating the good old days when you used to discover movies at an actual location and interact with people, Eyesore Cinema is having a day-long event on Saturday October 20, with tons of movies for sale, plus grab bags and lots of fun. 1176 Bloor St. W. Facebook event link <a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/351531368921726/" target="_blank">here</a> for more information.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
More next week! Till then...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
Greg Woodshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07781308526267978337noreply@blogger.com1