The Cult Movie Project: #1 (of 200) :: Vad Bedrar Dessa Dödliga Vara :: Ingmar Bergman's The Seventh Seal (1957)

Ignorance is bliss. And fate sucks. That is what I came away with after finally seeing Swedish filmmaker Ingmar Bergman's The Seventh Seal, his most well known film -- mostly for the indelible image of a knight playing chess with Death (the Grim Reaper) for mortality stakes.

This knight in question, Antonious (Von Sydow), currently suffering a terminal crisis of faith, and his squire, Jöns (Gunnar Bjornstand), an irascible scoundrel (whom I adore), have just returned from the Middle East after barely surviving the latest Crusade only to find their homeland overrun by the Plague. This Black Death (personified by Ekerot) seems inevitable (and relentless), then, for all they encounter on the way home; the chess game a mere stay while the knight seeks and begs for some proof of God's existence so he knows there will be something on the Other Side when he dies.

As this floating game of strategy continues, they pick up some stray travelers -- a couple of roving performers and their baby, a blacksmith and his philandering wife, and a rescued waif. In the end, the errant knight and most of his troupe meet their end with no real answer to his big question. (There is some hint of Divine Intervention when the knight's wife, who openly prays, is spared when Death comes for them at the castle keep.) However, along the way, the knight manages to distract his opponent long enough for the purely innocent (and one could argue, most ignorant,) to escape the Plague and live happily ever after.

Some striking visuals, eerie locations, and strong characterizations help move this morality play along. Morbid, and beautiful, beautifully morbid, the procession of the penitent is just incredible, and the burning of the witch interlude is just mesmerizing and heart-wrenching. Bergman is the first name that probably pops into mind when one brings up arty-farty foreign flicks. But don't let the stigma (or the subtitles) scare you away. The two I've seen (this and The Virgin Spring) are like a beautifully illustrated fairy tale. Deceptively simple, but moving on a ton of levels, meaning my initial (face value) observation is just barely scratching the surface; and I encourage you all to dig in for yourselves.

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"It is the director's way of showing that man's confusion about God throughout history has caused him to commit great sins against man in God's name. [It] is a pessimistic film by a frustrated modern man, who realizes that since we will never have absolute knowledge about the existence or nonexistence of God, life can only be satisfying and safe for those simple people who have faith, no questions asked."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-- Danny Peary

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The Fine Print: The Seventh Seal was watched via Hulu as part of their Criterion collection package. Watched as a double-feature with Walt Disney's Fantasia (1940). What's the Cult Movie Project? One down, 199 to go. 

The Seventh Seal (1957) Svensk Filmindustri :: Janus Films / P: Allan Ekelund / D: Ingmar Bergman / W: Ingmar Bergman / C: Gunnar Fischer / E: Lennart Wallén / M: Erik Nordgren / S: Max von Sydow, Gunnar Björnstrand, Bengt Ekerot, Nils Poppe, Bibi Andersson

RePost :: Trailer Park :: Saddle Your Hogs for One Final Ride to Glory, Man! An A.I.P. / R.I.P. Tribute to Dennis Hopper.

When The Black Souls rumble up on the leader of their bitter rivals, the Glory Stompers, who picked the wrong time and the wrong, secluded spot for some private snoggin' with his old lady, the skuzzy bikers proceed to stomp him into the earth. Thinking they've killed him, and with no other witnesses, they decide to kidnap the girlfriend, sneak her into Mexico, and sell her off to white slavers for some much needed drug money. However, turns out our hero wasn't quite dead, and he's soon in hot pursuit to get his girl back from this pack of degenerates before it's too late!

 

 Video courtesy of Haley Zero.

As an actor, director or producer it would take all of your (-- and several of your friend's --) fingers and toes to count off the films of Dennis Hopper that are better than American International's The Glory Stompers.

But, yeah, by no means a great film, it still ranks as one of my favorite performances by Hopper as the psychotic Chino, leader and head guru of the Black Souls. And his restrained efforts and barely-bottled manic intensity definitely vaults this film into the forefront of Jim and Sam's Outlaw Biker flicks; as the studio and its producers could never quite get the handle on the difference between the counter-culture hippie movement and the seedier biker scene.

As the old saying goes, you can take a cat out of the jungle but you can't take the jungle out of a cat (-- and a better metaphor for Hopper's modus operandi I'm hard-pressed to type). And Chino is one such cat, with the sharp-end of several pointed plot-sticks poking at him -- the pursuing Stompers, protecting his brother, and dissension in the ranks, who all want to pull a train on their captive, to name but a few -- which brings these pressurized contents to an inevitable outcome. And then, when we reach the climax, and things go all to hell on him, Chino finally explodes in perhaps Hopper's greatest freak-out in a long and storied career of freaking-out on camera that's worth the price of admission alone.

However, there's plenty more on The Glory Stompers' menu to bring you to the table, including some stellar supporting scurve-o's provided by the likes of Robert Tessier and a barely recognizable Casey Kasem. I was pretty sure that was Kasem under Mouth's helmet and grubby beard, and this was confirmed when he cranked up some yells that reverberated into some familiar "Holy Super-Friends, Batman", territory. Kasem also served as an associate producer on this and The Cycle Savages, which is probably the worst AIP biker flick ever; and that's REALLY saying something.

Behind the camera, after serving as an editor for the majority of Arch Hall Sr./Jr.'s output, Anthony Lanza makes his directorial debut, here, and he wasn't afraid to get down and wallow around in the dirt with his characters, so to speak, and took things as far as the censors would allow at the time. For the script, a tandem effort by John Lawrence and James White hits all the perquisite notes. And speaking of notes, one cannot fail to compliment the kicky-n-scratchy low-fuzz guitar soundtrack provided by Dave Allan and The Arrows.

Now where was I? Oh, yeah. Before the Outlaw Biker Cycle ran out of gas,  Lawrence and White would hash out over a half-dozen genre flicks over the next few years with the likes of Helles Belles, The Hellcats, and The Mini-Skirt Mob. Also of note: Lanza, Lawrence, White and Kasem would also later team up again for The Incredible Two-Headed Transplant.

Sadly, out of all those old AIP biker flicks released on those wonderful Midnite Movie double-discs, The Glory Stompers remains maddeningly elusive. Therefore, it will take some effort to track yourselves down a copy but I think it's well worth your time. But if you're still not convinced consider this:

Despite everything already mentioned, perhaps the trippiest thing about The Glory Stompers lies with misplaced beachnik Jody McCrea as the hero, meaning one can't help but also draw parallels between this film and William Asher's Beach Party series. Seriously. Before they're attacked, McCrea and Chris Noel are having one of those Frankie and Annette fights, where she won't put-out and threatens to dump him if he doesn't put his motorcycle away and grow up.

Thus, if we extrapolate further, that would make Hopper's character a surrogate for Erik Von Zipper, with The Black Souls standing in for the Ratz and Mice, who finally gets the upper hand on those surf-bums (The Stompers), and makes off with Annette with every intention of selling her as a sex slave somewhere south of the border. And that, my friends, is almost too damned hilarious to contemplate any further. 

Dennis Hopper

(1936-2010)

 Other Points of Interest:

Poster campaign for The Glory Stompers at the Archive.

Newspaper ads for The Glory Stompers at the Morgue.
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The Glory Stompers (1967) Norman T. Herman Productions :: American International Pictures / EP: Arthur N. Gilbert, Maurice Smith / P: John Lawrence / AP: Mike Curb, Casey Kasem, Paul Stevenson / D: Anthony M. Lanza / W: James Gordon, John Lawrence / C: Mario Tosi / E: Len Miller / M: Davie Allan, Mike Curb / S: Dennis Hopper, Jody McCrea, Chris Noel, Sandra Bettin, Jock Mahoney, Robert Tessier, Casey Kasem

Watch This Space :: It Begins Here: The Cult Movie Project. One Year, 200 Films.

After finishing up Patton Oswalt's truly remarkable cinematic memoir, Silver Screen Fiend, I now have a film quest for 2015 and beyond. And that is to finally see all the films in all three indispensable volumes of Danny Peary's Cult Movie books. 200 films in total: from Aguire: The Wrath of God to Zardoz and all flicks in-between. "The classics, the sleepers, the weird and the wonderful."

Since I was a kid I have loved movies and the movie watching experience. I especially loved the weird ones, the forbidden ones, the ones, at the time, you had no chance in hell of seeing in my neck of the woods. And I loved reading about them in countless monster mags and more reasonable film compendiums. But it wasn't until I stumbled upon a copy of Cult Movies: Volume 3 at the Prairie Books and Gifts (no exact date but it was junior high, so mid-1980s-ish) that I became truly fascinated by the carnal knowledge of movies and movie-making: behind the scenes scuttlebutt, gonzo directors, idiosyncratic stars with hidden agendas, or messages you might not see in films that make the production almost as interesting as the film itself. And after devouring that edition and tracking down and feasting on the other two volumes, I honestly cannot judge the true impact of Peary's style and presentation on my own keyboard-knuckle-dragging fanboy-filmdom efforts. A nuts and bolts approach that I desperately try to mimic. Sometimes I succeed, most often I don't. But I will keep on trying.

Thus and so, I broke out my old battered and worn copies, the spines barely holding together on two of them, to guide me through this quest. (And Patton, I love you, but you are a fool for giving yours away. Sorry.) Some I have already seen (127 and counting) and will watch again for this retrospective, others I have not -- some gaps more embarrassing than others. (And hopefully, I'll be able to find all of them. Here's my progress thus far.) Hoping to do most of these via the double-feature route. Mixing and matching themes, which has been a ton of fun, with write-ups to follow, posted here, beginning next week. 

Movie Poster Spotlight :: "Guerreros de Salir a Jugar-ar-ar!" :: A Set of Mexican Lobby Cards for Walter Hill's The Warriors (1979)

Full review of The Warriors coming soon. Watch this space, Boils and Ghouls.

Other Points of Interest:

Poster campaign for The Warriors at the Archive.

The Warriors (1979) Paramount Pictures / EP: Frank Marshall / P: Lawrence Gordon / AP: Joel Silver / D: Walter Hill / W: David Shaber, Walter Hill, Sol Yurick (novel) / C: Andrew Laszlo / E: Freeman A. Davies, David Holden, Susan E. Morse, Billy Weber / M: Barry De Vorzon / S: Michael Beck, Deborah Van Valkenburgh, David Patrick Kelly, Thomas G. Waites, James Remar, Dorsey Wright, Brian Tyler, David Harris, Tom McKitterick, Marcelino Sánchez, Terry Michos

In Memoriam :: To Boldly Go in Another Direction.

"Lost civilizations ... Extraterrestrials ... Myths and Monsters ... Missing persons ... Magic and witchcraft ... Unexplained phenomenon ... In Search Of... cameras are traveling the world, seeking out these great mysteries. This program was the result of scientists, researches, and a group of highly skilled technicians."

Now, I love Mr. Spock as much as the next person, but I kinda grew up in a Star Trek vacuum, meaning no local stations had it in syndication after I was old enough to really pay attention to such things. (I still have only seen a handful of the original series episodes, slowly trying to rectify that on Netflix.) But In Search Of..., on the other hand, was a weekend staple for nearly ten years and this is why it came to mind first when I heard of Leonard Nimoy's passing yesterday. 

I remember clearly getting itchy at Sunday School when I was kid, hoping things would get wrapped up in time to get home to catch it. (I also remember if a football or baseball game got done earlier than expected on our local NBC affiliate, In Search Of... episodes would be used to plug up the gap.) And then there I sat, invited in and given a tour by our most gracious host, enraptured by the mysteries of the unknown. Haven't been the same since. Ask anybody. 

"The miracle is this: the more we share, the more we have." 

Leonard Nimoy

(1931-2015)

Do Three Idiots Plus One Brain Cell Equal a Rip-Off or a Homage? :: A Beer-Gut Reaction to Dennis Dugan's Brain Donors (1992)

Our film opens at the reading of the will of multi-gabillionaire, Oscar Winterhaven Oglethorpe. Well, not quite. Seems Victor Lazlo (Savident), the late swell's slime-ball attorney, wants to begin but Oscar’s wife, Lillian (Marchand), insists on waiting for her personal attorney, Roland T. Flakfizer, to help oversee things. Thus and so, she sends Jacques (Nelson), her simpleton groundskeeper, to find him, who tracks down Flakfizer (Turturro) at the site of an auto accident. E'yup. Flakfizer is an ambulance chaser, who’s trying to represent both sides of a minor fender-bender into suing each other for big bucks. When Jacques grabs him and calls for a cab, they’re picked up by Rocco Melencheck (Smith) and head back to the Oglethorpe estate -- at least until Rocco recognizes Flakfizer, who served as the attorney for his ex-wife in their divorce case, who got the judge to triple the alimony payments so he wouldn’t have to sleep with her in cheap motels anymore. This carnage continues until they realize no one is driving the cab! Managing to get it stopped, they all spill out and Flakfizer, smelling big money to be fleeced from the Oglethorpes, makes peace and hires Rocco and Jacques as his personal assistants.

Much to Lazlo's chagrin, Flakfizer takes over the proceedings while Jacques and Rocco make general nuisances of themselves. Long story short, everything is left to Lillian but she must use part of the money to establish a new ballet company. Flakfizer thinks this is a lousy idea -- until he hears what the stupefying annual salary is for the head of the company and quickly volunteers for the job; but, so does Lazlo, who claims he can sign the great Roberto Volare for their fledgling company, giving them immediate credibility. Knowing he must sign him first, or lose the job to Lazlo, Flakfizer and his flunkies head off to the ballet; and while Rocco mucks around backstage, Jacques and Flakfizer find their seats but treat the ballet like Joel, Mike and the Bots treat the movies on MST3k.

After the show, Flakfizer tries to sign Volare (de la Pena) but is immediately rebuffed by the snobbish dancer. Meanwhile, Rocco and Jacques want to sign Lisa le Baron and Alan Grant (Donald and Alexander). Seems these two amateurs also want to get married, but Alan is unemployed and therefore cannot afford it. Taking pity on them, Rocco talks Flakfizer into signing them instead, and then conspire to introduce them to Lillian by staging a performance for her at a garden reception. Their thunder is stolen, however, when Lazlo arrives with Volare, whom he delivers as promised. When the two young lovers show their stuff, a smitten Volare picks Lisa to be his prima ballerina for their debut production of Swan Lake, but snubs Alan. But! Being Lisa's agent, Flakfizer has the leverage to get himself appointed as co-chairman of the ballet company with Lazlo. And with the conflict now set, much, much, much mayhem ensues...

As a screenwriter, Pat Proft, who had a hand in the notorious Star Wars Holiday Special (1978), brought you Bachelor Party, Real Genius, and the Police Academy and The Naked Gun franchises in the 1980s but then kinda crapped out in the 1990s with the likes of High School High, Mr. Magoo and Wrongfully Accused. Brain Donors (1992) came out right in the middle of that transition; and it's director, Dennis Dugan, who also starred in the tragically short-lived small-screen spook-show, Shadow Chasers, has since graduated to directing Adam Sandler comedies. Serving as executive producers, this flick is also a novelty for the Zucker brothers (-- this time sans producing-partner, Jim Abrams). Instead of a slapstick spoof played straight we get an outright homage to the anarchy of the Marx Brothers; in particular, A Night at the Opera. Turturro is magnificent as our Groucho surrogate. Nelson equally so as a loquacious Harpo, complete with bottomless pockets. Smith is a passable Chico, and he gets the best lines. Donald and Alexander fill in for Kitty Carlisle and Zeppo. But the show is stolen out from under all of them by Marchand, whose dead-ringer impersonation of Margaret Dumont (The Cocoanuts, Animal Crackers, Duck Soup etc.) is both uncanny and nothing short of brilliant.

During production, Paramount was set to release the film as Lame Ducks, with a massive promotional blitz, playing up the Zucker angle, hoping to cash-in on the reputation of their comedy classics like The Kentucky Fried Movie (1978) and Airplane (1980). Before filming was completed, however, the Zuckers jilted Paramount for 20th Century Fox. And after they bailed, Paramount retaliated by scrapping the campaign, leaving the film to flounder for a very limited release before yanking it. The critics who did see it were not kind. It quickly bombed and quietly disappeared, which is a damn shame because the movie is fantastic.

Book-ended by two outstanding Claymation-animated credit sequences, courtesy of Will Vinton, the plot in-between does transpire like a typical Marx Bros. movie, with three social deviants hell bent on bucking the norm and taking pot-shots at the cultural elite. They are oblivious to the world around them, and only interact when they are threatened -- or if there is a profit to be made or a skirt to chase. The plot is threadbare because all it has to do is move you from one gag to the next. Now, the majority of the gags will seem eerily familiar if your know your Marx Bros.' lore. There's an emergency room scene that's lifted from A Day at the Races (1937). That garden party is nearly a carbon copy of the one from Duck Soup (1933) -- my favorite Marx Brother movie. And the drawing up of a standard contract is almost verbatim from A Night at the Opera (1935). (Alas, Virginia, there still is no Sanity Clause.) There's also a nod to the stateroom scene from the same, where around 1500 people (including a lobster-gram) get themselves jammed-up into Volere’s dressing room. And Flakfizer does a play-by-play during the carnage after the curtain goes up for the finale just like Groucho did in Monkey Business (1931). And as in all of them, there’s also the obligatory romantic subplot in Brain Donors that helps unite the trio to foil the bad guys. And, of course, the complete and utter destruction of a famous ballet.

That's not to say the film isn't completely unoriginal. As the preparations for opening night near completion, a press conference is called and, once again, Flakfizer takes over and more mayhem ensues. Afterward, when the lecherous Volare tries to put the moves on Lisa, she hides in her dressing room, where she happily finds Rocco, Jacques and Alan waiting for her. This is short lived, however, as Volare comes a calling. After the others hide, Lisa lets him in; and when Volare gets a little too aggressive, Alan jumps out and slugs him. This is the last indignation suffered for Volare, who has been conspiring with Lazlo to get the chaotically cantankerous trio fired. Next, we move to the hotel where Lillian, Lazlo and Flakfizer are staying. Setting their plan in motion, Volare plants one of his under-age dancers in Flakfizer’s room to seduce him, then later, Lazlo will bring Lillian in to catch them in the act. But Rocco and Jacques get wind of this and warn Flakfizer in time. So when Lazlo and Lillian arrive, through some hilarious quick moves, it is Lazlo who’s caught in bed with the jailbait. During this chaos, Lillian is accidentally knocked unconscious just before a courier arrives with some condemning information against Flakfizer. As Lillian is rushed to the hospital, Lazlo promises to expose them all as soon as she wakes up.

Beating him to the hospital, the three con-men pose as doctors to try and intercept Lazlo, whom they manage to knock out with some ether. When Lillian’s real doctor shows up, they pretend to be working on Lazlo. But they obviously don’t know what they’re doing as they de-pants the patient. When asked, "Aren’t you cardiologists?" Rocco replies, "Well, we plan to enter the rectum and head north." With that, the doctor calls security, they’re caught, exposed as frauds, and sent off to jail, where, in an inspired scene, Jacques is forced to empty those bottomless pockets with hilarious results. After Lisa and Alan bail them out, using her severance pay from the ballet company (-- Volare had her fired and promises to blackball her from ever dancing professionally again), not wanting the bad guys to win, our three heroes concoct a plan to get back at their tormentors and get these two young lovers back onstage.

I’d like to describe exactly what happens next, but words simply cannot do it justice. Lets just say Flakfizer and company do to the performance what the iceberg did to the Titanic -- including stuffing a whoopee cushion in Volare’s tights, inserting a giant duck amongst the swan dancers, and lighting the conductors baton on fire to liven things up. Again, all of this accompanied by a riveting play-by-play by Flakfizer. Exposed, Volare is booed off the stage and Lazlo gets arrested, then Alan and Lisa go on and save the performance. Thus, all is right in the world. But as they bask in the glory with Lillian backstage, our boys hear an ambulance go by and immediately run off to give chase, bringing this insanity to an ever-lovin' end.

I will warn you all that this type of humor won’t appeal to everyone. If you don’t like the Marx Brothers, or that type of comedy free-for-all, Brain Donors might not be for you. If you are a fan, What are you waiting for? Knowledge of the Marx Bros. canon, while helpful, isn’t required. The zingers come fast and furious and can be overwhelming at times. There is a fine line between ripping-off and paying homage, and Brain Donors admittedly teeters on the edge. As to the critics who brand it a total rip-off, I say cut them some slack. Sure, some scenes are basically the originals with the serial numbers filed off, and some of the jokes do fall flat, but the actors portraying the characters give such an earnest, heartfelt performance that I don’t think Groucho, Chico, Harpo, or even Zeppo, would mind. I know I didn’t. I laughed my ass off.

Brain Donors (1992) Zucker Brothers Productions :: Paramount Pictures / EP: David Zucker, Jerry Zucker / P: Gil Netter, James D. Brubaker / AP: Steven Hirsch / D: Dennis Dugan / W: Pat Proft / C: David M. Walsh / E: Malcolm Campbell / M: Ira Newborn / S: John Turturro, Bob Nelson, Mel Smith, Nancy Marchand, John Savident, George De La Pena, Juliana Donald, Spike Alexander