Day Forty-Six: Primer (2004) - Rank 4.5/5

This is the type of film that gives all amateur filmmakers hope for the future. When Shane Karuth wrote, directed and starred in this film, it cost him only $7,000 dollars (most going to film stock). However, carefully executed shots deceive the viewer from thinking about the film's potential budget and the script is so mind-boggling, you won't have the luxury of allowing your mind to drift. What Karuth created is one of the best time travel films I've ever seen, and consequently, one of the most confusing time travel movies I've struggled to process.

Two engineers, who spend most of their free time in their garage, trying to create a device that will help them "get rich quick," unwittingly invent a time machine. However, there are a couple of catches: the time machine will only go back in time to the point that it was turned on and you must spend the duration of time you're traveling back in actual time inside the machine. For example, if you turn it on at 9:00 AM and enter at 5:00 PM, you will travel back in time to 9:00 AM but you must spend eight hours inside of the device to do so. Perplexed yet? Here's a diagram that might help:



Anyway, at first the two use the machine for the obvious idea - to make money (in this case, buying and selling stocks). Shortly after though, when crazed friends and doppelgangers begin to appear on the scene, you find yourself exclaiming "What the fuck?" as the characters on screen do. And no, don't fear that these are spoilers. In fact, I could tell you the entire plot and you'd still feel perplexed once credits begin to roll. That's because Karuth's script is so complex and in depth, it demands multiple viewings to comprehend the entire plot. Many might find that quality vexing, but it was just my cup of tea being the over-analytical bastard that I am.

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Day Forty-Five: The Cheap Detective (1978) - Rank 2.5/5

Let me begin by saying that this film has a ton of assets on its side. It's written by Neil Simon and directed by Robert Moore (whose previous film, "Murder By Death" is one I consider to be one of my favorite comedies). The film is a parody of film noir, primarily "The Maltese Falcon" and "Casablanca." Then, apart from starring Peter Falk, the supporting cast is comprised of James Coco, Eileen Brennan, Dom DeLuise, Madeline Kahn, Sid Cesar, Ann-Margret and Phil Silver, just to name a few. Why, for the love of God, is this movie so boring? It doesn't make sense. To me, such a notion would be as unfathomable as a collegiate production of Shakespeare actually being tolerable.

The only logical hypothesis I can come up with is that when Simon and Moore teamed up two years prior to spoof the detective genre for the first time in "Murder By Death," they used up all the possible humor that could have been derived from the source material. Most of the film was a mix of PG potty humor or bad puns (and if you know me, then you also know that for me to diss a pun then it must be bad). One redeeming performance is that of John Houseman as Jasper Blubber, a parody of Sydney Greenstreet. His dry wit handles the weak script far better than most of the other actors do. Despite being veterans of the comedic field, they tends to follow their jokes with a brief pause, as if to tell you that the last quip they made is funny. I suppose they must have consulted Dan Colemenares on shooting the film. "You gotta build in the laughs..." Inside Joke!

No genuine trailer that I could find, so here's a fan-made trailer (for what it's worth)

Day Forty-Four: Frenzy (1972) - Rank 3.5/5

Despite its R-rating for a grisly murder scene, much of this film is trademark Hitchcock. One staple element used quite frequently is an innocent individual becoming caught up in out-of-control situations through sheer dumb luck. Such is the case with Richard Blaney (Jon Finch), who is falsely sought after for the murder of his ex-wife. Another staple is the audience is introduced to the killer early on; this time the murderer is a serial rapist (Barry Foster) who caps his intercourse by strangling his victims with a necktie, muttering "Lovely...lovely!" all the while.

An element frequently in Hitchcock films is tricking the audience into rooting for the villain. A prime example would be the moment in "Psycho" when Norman Bates is watching Marion Crane's car sink into the bog. As it hesitates in its plummet, you hold your breath, hoping it will continue. In "Frenzy," we are treated to a "frenzied" struggle on the part of the rapist to remove a piece of evidence from the rigor mortis grip of one of his victims in the back of a potato truck as it soars down the highway.

However, there are two key components to all great Hitchcock films that are absent here. The first is Bernard Hermann's score. Hermann has the perfect knack for scoring Hitchcock's films in order to enhance or build appropriate amounts of tension or suspense. Ron Goodwin's score for the film was wholly forgettable. The trademark wit and dark humor of Hitchcock films were also absent, leaving the film feeling a little flat. While it may seem a little too pragmatic on my part to be nitpicking at the film by comparing it to Hitchcock's earlier works, I think it's valid to suggest that Hitchcock stick to a proven, successful formula. After all, if it ain't broke, then why fix it?

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Day Forty-Three: Arthur (1981) - Rank 4/5

It was the birth of Dudley Moore's career and the death of his liver. Watching any film starring the frequently intoxicated actor involves a fairly high level of tolerance, for he dishes out as many bad puns as drinks he consumes. For the better part, I find most of his films enjoyable - "Foul Play" or "Santa Claus: The Movie"...actually, the latter isn't the best example of Moore's work. Now John Lithgow on the other hand...



In short, Moore is hilarious as playboy Arthur Bach because he's shitfaced for nine tenths of the film (and I have no doubt that much of his inebriation wasn't an act). The whole plot is a tried and true scenario: rich person falls in love with poor person and must decide between wealth or happiness. Nevertheless, I was hooked in the first five minutes when the following dialog takes place between Arthur and a prostitute:

Prostitute: My mother died when I was six.
Arthur: Jesus! Don't they know what that does to a kid?
Prostitute: Then my father raped me when I was twelve.
Arthur: So you had six relatively good years!

I laughed for a solid five minutes and had to rewind just to hear it again. Absolutely brilliant. Of course, my hysterics could have been assisted by a glass of wine. And by glass, I mean bottle. Wait, I forgot where I was going with that.

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Day Forty-Two: The Mad Monster (1942) - Rank 1.5/5

I hate it when a movie that's 77 minutes in duration crawls by like it's three hours. I watched this public domain entry out of my inner geeky fandom for classic monster films of the thirties and the forties. "Glenn Strange as a werewolf?" I thought, "Why not?" But even Strange can't save the film's weak script and snail-like pacing. The basic gist? A shunned, mad scientist (aren't they all) transfers the blood of a wolf into a human to prove that he can make werewolves. However, just because one can make werewolves, doesn't mean that one should as we all soon learn one the victim count starts going up.

The werewolf transformation is a step backward from the cutting edge morph seen in "The Wolf Man" the year prior, leading me to think that this film was an exercise in exploitation rather than storytelling. The "werewolf" looks more like a grizzled, old prospector than a lycanthrope. There is one redeeming element to the whole film: George Zucco, who plays the mad scientist who transforms Glenn Strange's "Aw Shucks" bumpkin Pedro.



Zucco, it seems, was frequently typecast as a mad scientist and for good reason. The devours the scenery with zeal in an early scene of the film where he brags about his scientific accomplishments to a nonexistent, scientific community. I couldn't help but identify with him, because ever so often I find myself sitting on my couch, swapping puns with guests who could be there. *sigh*...so lonely...

I couldn't locate a trailer, but you can watch the mediocre werewolf transformation here in the only form of quality that public domain films provide.

Day Forty-One: Gran Torino (2008) - Rank 4/5

The "I'm old and I'm pissed off!" mindset seemed to work pretty well for Clint Eastwood in "Million Dollar Baby." In fact, it worked for a great deal of Eastwood's career (though "I'm old" is not always applicable). So does it work for "Gran Torino?" Of course it does. Eastwood's got the schtick down pat, and when he's writing and directing his own material, he knows he'll be able to do it well. He throws out phrases like "Get off my lawn!" with the same sense of intimidation he had when he bombed the giant spider at the end of "Tarantula"........Movie Reference! As a curmudgeon with a heart of gold, he helps mold and protect the Vietnamese teens living next door, even after one of them bungles the theft of Eastwood's vintage Gran Torino, incurring the wrath of his gang.

However, unlike his previous films, Eastwood has cast a group of unknowns for his supporting cast (I only recognized the comedic genius Brian Howe as one of his sons...star of "The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra"...no?). Granted, the script is dominated by Eastwood's character, Walt Kowalski, as it is, but the innocuous supporting cast seems to fade into the background whenever the writer/director/star is cursing, spitting, drinking or pulling guns on the movie...which is, in essence, the whole film. Kowalski is as bigoted as they come, spewing forth countless racial insults to a degree that's actually humorous (or at least to me. My sense of humor has issues, which explains the films I make or the simple fact that I was the only person in the theatre laughing. To hell with them all!). A drinking game that involved taking a drink of beer every time Kowalski utters an ethnic slur would certainly end in a trip to the emergency room, especially since you'd have to drink Kowalski's beer of choice: Pabst Blue Ribbon. PBR was also the beverage of choice for "Blue Velvet's" Frank Booth. Hmm...methinks there's something in there that angers the blood. Perhaps I should test this hypothesis...purely in the name of science. After all, I am a scientist, professed in the science of scientific studies of science.

Anyway, watch the film for Eastwood's trademark, embittered, pistol-packing asskickery and love the film for the maturity he applies to his sense of justice and resolution. And then mock the film's supporting actor, Bee Vang, for his well-intentioned, but stilted, performance...over a twelve-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon.

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Day Forty: The Reader (2008) - Rank 4.5/5

Hands down, this was easily the best picture of the year, superior even to "Slumdog Millionaire." Of course, many awards committees disagree, whether it be a simple difference of opinion or simply because they became consumed in the "Slumdog Millionaire" hype that has prevailed since January. That being said, I will try not to mention any pivotal plot points, for I went into this film with no knowledge as to what it was about and was genuinely surprised. I think had i been familiar with the premise by just a little bit, it would have diminished the impact of the film.

"The Reader" is a tense and engaging period drama and character study that's shot with a conventional and "sensible" approach (producing a film style not seen since the late nineties - hailing to the zenith of Merchant-Ivory). The central focus is the ongoing relationship between a young German (David Kross - played by Ralph Fiennes as an adult) and a woman nearly twice his age (his first, childhood love), who happens to show him an inordinate amount of kindness (kindness would be a good euphemism for 'sex' in this situation) in exchange for his reading to her. While Meryl Streep had been my pick for Best Actress, I think Kate Winslet's performance in this film is certainly worthy of teh accolades she receives. The tender romance suddenly ends and secrets about the characters come out, causing them to hold on to information that hasn't been revealed with greater determination

Stephen Daldry has to be one of the strongest working directors in Hollywood today, for all three of his films have not only been modern masterpieces, but he's also received the recognition of Oscar nominations for each. The heart of the film focuses on secrecy, often begging the question: "Are we define by what we keep secret or do our secrets restrict our potential as human beings?" There are no easy answers here and the film certainly lends itself to great post-viewing discussion. Superbly acted, well-written and brilliantly directed, I think the impact of this film will prevail long after the hype surrounding "Slumdog Millionaire" has faded.

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