Guess Who's Coming to Christmas (2013)

Director: Kristoffer Tabori
Writer(s): Tippi Dobrofsky and Neal H. Dobrofsky
Starring: Drew Lachey, MacKenzie Porter, Ellie Harvey and Peter LaCroix

After wading through a couple of lackluster American holiday romances, we figured we were on pace for a third. I mean, virtually all these rehashed Christmas movies feature disgraced Hollywood celebrities clinging to the last vestiges of relevance, but this one takes things a step further by featuring Drew Lachey, Nick’s much less popular brother. Whereas Nick blew up and became A-level famous for a while (thanks largely in part to his marriage to “it-girl” Jessica Simpson), Drew’s biggest claim to fame was as a member of ‘90s boy band 98 Degrees. He re-found the spotlight a few years later by winning the second season of “Dancing with the Stars”…and hasn’t really done a whole lot to catch the public’s eye since.

Would you believe it if I told you that not only is Guess Who’s Coming to Christmas competently made, but that it’s genuinely entertaining? 

I’m a sucker for celebrities who can make fun of themselves, and Drew really lives it up here as Dax, a musician and former heartthrob who is quickly losing his fame thanks to tanking album sales. In a last-ditch effort to save his fledgling career, he listens to the advice of Jason, his manager, and agrees to grant the Christmas wish of one of his fans.

The “winner” is Kelly Harding, a twentysomething girl who still has a poster of Dax hanging on her wall. Kelly is flabbergasted, considering she never even entered the contest; as it turns out, it was her nerdy younger brother Tim who submitted the entry. Needless to say, the entire family is surprised when a clearly less-than-enthused Dax shows up on their front steps. He plans on staying at a hotel for most of his trip, an idea that Jason nixes; instead, he’s forced to stay the entire week in the Harding household, made up of Kelly and Tim, mother Lynne, and their father…Reverend Harding. 

What’s refreshing about this one - and what provides most of the comedy early on - is Dax’s clear disdain for his current situation. He doesn’t try to mask it with any sort of kindness whatsoever; he makes it known that this contest was not his idea, and that he’d rather be anywhere else than hanging with the Hardings. Indeed, for someone trying to save their career, this is clearly a step in the wrong direction.

This is one of those rare holiday movies that “goes for broke”, at least as far as Christmas-themed rom-coms can go. Take, for instance, a scene in which a desperate Dax breaks into the family’s liquor cabinet (which is reserved for “special occasions” only) while the family is at church, awaiting his arrival. He shows up, alright, but completely hammered, causing a scene by loudly yelling before collapsing before horrified onlookers at the front of the church. 

In another scene, he attempts to get Kelly into bed with him, simply because she was a fan, and he is bored. And what better way for a "rockstar" to pass the time than by sleeping with a groupie? Only, in this case, his attempts lead only to rejection, a notion that's foreign to him. While this scene is actually kind of uncomfortable, it does ring with unexpected honesty: Here is a famous person who is so used to getting what he wants, that he almost feels entitled to it. It's a rather strong departure from the saccharine "goodness" of most holiday sap-fests.

But what really makes Guess Who's Coming to Christmas work so well are the supporting characters: Despite Kelly’s father being a preacher, who has strict rules for those living inside his home (no matter how famous they might have been), it never becomes preachy. In fact, he comes off as a genuinely nice guy; even after Dax’s drunken interruption in his own church - which I figured would be the perfect opportunity for the Reverend to berate him, force Biblical passages down his throat, or even attempt to kick him out - he does the opposite, seeing a good guy who’s just in need of a few life changes. It’s sad how having such human characters in a movie like this isn’t just a welcome change: It actually borders on “shocking”. 

There still has to be some tropes, such as how he slowly changes his tune, as the once-foreign concept of "family" becomes more comfortable to him over (initially forced) family dinners. And of course his aversion to such a close-knit unit has to do with his own upbringing, which was filled with turmoil. That explains the reason he's a curmudgeonly thirtysomething who sees the good in nothing. But even his rather sudden, 98-degree change from cynical man to family man somehow manages to feel as natural as it can, thanks mainly to Drew's handling of the character. (There's something I never thought I'd say about a Lachey.)

In the end, this is a love story between Dax and Kelly, so of course there are the obligatory rom-com sequences where Dax must choose between his career and a new life outside of the limelight. And of course with his musical background (and the background of co-star MacKenzie Porter, who is also a musician), we are treated to an original song that, honestly, isn't as bad as it could have been. It might all still lead to a completely expected conclusion, but the fun is in the ride, not the destination. And this is a ride that is more fun than it should be.

ENTERTAINMENT RATING: 8/10

As a little side note, I’m a little baffled as to the reasoning behind the title. As virtually everyone knows, Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner is a movie about a white girl bringing her black boyfriend over for dinner, in the midst of ‘60s level racism. It was a landmark film, tackling an important issue that had been dividing the country for several decades. Its use here seems to insinuate a similar occurrence, but while Drew’s manager is black, he doesn’t factor in to the romantic aspects of the story whatsoever. Maybe I'm reading too much into it - titles don't have specific requirements for use - but it seems an odd choice for a title featuring two white leads.

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Sounds Like Love (aka Fuimos Canciones) (2021)

Director: Juana Macias
Writer(s): Laura Sarmiento Pallares, based on the novel by Elisabet Benavent
Starring: Maria Valverde, Alex Gonzalez, Elisabet Casanovas and Susana Abaitua

After forcing our way through most of the lame American rom-coms - you know, those B-grade (or worse) flicks that turn predictability and “blah” into an art form - we’ve recently begun focusing our attention to foreign attempts at the subgenre. And, despite their questionably low IMDb scores, we’ve found them to be much more charming - and infinitely better - on the whole.

Sounds Like Love is a Spanish import that follows Maca, a 30-year-old who works as an assistant to a cold-hearted and cruel social media influencer. When she’s not at work, she’s either spending time with her two best friends, Jimena and Adriana, or hooking up with a man named Coque for some casual sex inside her car. 

Of course, she has some troubles with love or we wouldn’t be watching a rom-com: Her romantic kryptonite comes in the form of Leo, her ex-lover and the one who got away. The two of them were inseparable, looking to get a house together, before he just up and split, without so much as a goodbye. Well, guess who reappears just as she seems to be getting her life back on track…and guess who’s also dating one of her colleagues?

At first, the two start trading jabs, with the jilted woman attempting to gain some revenge on the lover who did her wrong: she shows up to his college class and calls his itinerary out for being sexist. He, in turn, pretends to seduce her, before suddenly revealing it was just a game. But then, what appear to be hostile feelings between the two, somehow bloom into the possibility of true love.   

What separates Sounds Like Love apart from similar movies of its ilk is the narrative structure: Maca constantly breaks the fourth wall, talking to the viewer directly in between scenes to explain things in more elaborate detail; she’s visited by “angel” and “devil” versions of herself in a segment called “Crappy Decisions”; and the story doesn’t just focus on her own love life, but also those of Jimena and Adriana. This at least helps to give it more of a “complexity” missing from similar movies, where the main couple are essentially the only characters we’re supposed to be cheering for. 

Honestly, this isn’t a rom-com so much as a vehicle for “female empowerment”. I know, I know, you’re probably groaning at that statement; it’s become a catch-all for all sorts of preachy vehicles that attempt to force the independence of women down our throats. In fact, the rom-com itself might be a thing of the past soon, as female voices rebel against the idea of a woman’s sole purpose in life being in a committed relationship with a member of the opposite sex to begin with.

But before you go casting this aside for that reason, hear me out: This is done in a charming way. It’s about one woman who discovers that she can’t possibly love someone else, until she loves herself first. That idea might sound a little corny, if not cliched, but it presents that angle without ever being too heavy handed.

There are some flaws: For starters, this was based on the "Canciones y Recuerdos" two-book series from author Elisabet Benavent. The books take up 500 pages, of which Sounds Like Love had to cut down into a runtime under two hours. This means there were entire plotlines that had to be excised; it’s a shame Netflix couldn’t turn this into a two-movie deal to fully flesh out the books into movie form.

Another example: The change between Maca and Leo’s previously hostile relationship, into legitimate love is rather forced and unrealistic. The two spend the first half of the movie trading barbs with one another (some of which are actually quite brutal emotionally, especially for Maca), and then all of a sudden Leo becomes a good guy who falls back in love with his former flame. It's done without precedent, and so quickly that it seems like a more elaborate prank.

Despite those cons, I’m actually shocked at Sounds Like Love’s dismissal in reviews as a “predictable” rom-com; it makes me wonder if those people actually watched it. I mean, I guess I can’t really call it unpredictable, but within the realm of these movies, it has a few tricks up its sleeve.

Like the fleshing out of its side characters, Jimena and Adriana. The former is a woman obsessed with her dead lover, who searches for characteristics of him in every man that she dates. The latter is a woman in an unfulfilled marriage, who becomes attracted to the “other” woman in a threesome with her husband. Their stories blend in with Maca’s, and while they lead toward obvious conclusions, they have an element that is both human, and uplifting.

Then there’s Maca’s ending, in which she reveals what the ending would be like “if this were a rom-com”. In a refreshing change of pace, that’s not the way this story ends.

ENTERTAINMENT RATING: 8/10

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No Sleep 'Til Christmas (2018)

Director: Phil Traill
Writer(s): Steve Smith and Traill
Starring: Odette Annable, Dave Annable, Charles Michael Davis and Alphonso McAuley

It’s amazing how far chemistry can take even the cheesiest of rom-coms. Take, for example, No Sleep Till Christmas, a movie that - even within the confines of the corny holiday romance subgenre - sounds even dumber than most. And yet, somehow, against the odds, it works, due almost entirely to the chemistry between the two stars.

Lizzie (Odette Annable) is engaged to Josh (“The Vampire Diaries” Charles Michael Davis), who she thinks is the love of her life. She is an event planner and he is a doctor, but while their careers are on opposite ends of the spectrum, they both connect in their mutual need for organization in their lives. 

There is one little problem though: she can’t sleep with Josh. No, not like that: She literally cannot sleep next to him. Like, at all. While he’s out like a light, she’s either tossing and turning next to him, or staring off into space; she’s lucky to get an hour a night. Nevermind the fact that such little sleep over a long period of time would not only be a serious medical issue that would quickly lead to hallucinations and, eventually, death (look up fatal familial insomnia and prepare to have your mind blown); here, it only causes minor discomfort and a lack of focus at her job.

One night, she is out driving when she runs over a pedestrian. This is Billy, a man who’s completely the opposite of her: He works at a bar - a sign in these movies that he has no aim or career aspirations - is messy, and takes life as it comes, rather than planning it all out in advance. The only thing he shares with Lizzie is a similar case of insomnia; he can't sleep next to anyone, including his ex Nicola. 

She drives him to a hospital and, for reasons that don’t quite make a lick of sense, the two decide to rest before heading inside to get him the treatment he may very well need. Well, wouldn’t you know it that the two both wake the next morning, several hours later, refreshed and rejuvenated after a long night’s sleep. (In the case of Billy, it’s probably just due to a concussion and/or massive internal injuries.)

Lizzie thinks she’s cured of her problem, but after several more sleepless nights next to her future husband, realizes that the situation goes much deeper: She can only sleep next to Billy. Well, we don’t know this for sure, because she doesn’t even try to sleep next to anyone else; for all we know, she may be able to sleep with everyone except Josh. At any rate, she makes Billy an awkward proposition: She will pay him to sleep next to her. It’s a bizarre offer that he initially refuses, until he realizes that he can use that money to help fund a bar he’s always dreamed of opening (wow, who knew that even bartenders could have dreams). 

At first, the duo sleep together in their car, much like they did that first night. But soon, they decide to go a little more upscale, meeting together for a couple hours at a time inside a hotel. Because that’s not going to raise any eyebrows in the completely guaranteed event that Josh eventually discovers her secret double life. 

The plot progresses more or less as you’d expect, and while it doesn’t really stray away from the tried-and-true formula, it gets an insane amount of mileage out of its likable cast. The two leads (who are married in real life) feed off of each other well, delivering some humorous banter (and a knack for comedic timing) that hits the funny bone. The rest of the cast is also capable, including Charles Michael Davis, although he is given the thankless task of being a serious, uptight character in a rom-com. (He does have a scene that surprisingly has some emotional resonance late in the movie, which hits a little bit harder given the otherwise lighthearted atmosphere.)

I suppose more traditional fans of this kind of schlock might be off-put by the storyline, as Lizzie really has no reason to leave Josh. He’s not the typical douchebag you find in these movies, where you’re essentially cheering for them to find someone else; his only “crime” is being too similar to her. Similarly, this is basically a Christmas movie in name and setting only. Those expecting some holiday cheer and scenes adorned with tinsel and Christmas trees will find this to be sorely lacking; it just happens to take place around Christmastime.

But at the same time, it delivers a message that some other holiday cheesefests completely avoid: That no matter what you have, it can always be better. Well, I don’t know if that’s the message, because that sounds rather dark…the point is, life's too short to settle for someone - or something - you're not into. It's not exactly deep, but it goes deeper than you'd expect from a movie about two people who can only fall asleep next to each other.

ENTERTAINMENT RATING: 8/10

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Dave Made a Maze (2017)

Director: Bill Watterson
Writer(s): Steven Sears and Watterson
Starring: Meera Rohit Khumbani, Nick Thune, Adam Busch and James Urbaniak

Dave is a thirtysomething man with a hot girlfriend, who feels like he hasn’t accomplished anything with his life. He seems like a man who’s riddled with ADHD: he fills his free time with a variety of crazy ideas, which he quickly abandons the moment he has ideas for his next one (something to which I can sadly relate all too well). 

After his girlfriend, Annie, leaves him alone one weekend, he decides to build a fort out of cardboard boxes. From the outside, it looks like a simple little creation; creative, but more a waste of time than anything else. But when Annie tries to lure him to come out, we learn that it’s not quite as simple as it seems - on the inside, it’s a massive multi-room, booby-trapped hellscape featuring a minotaur who craves human flesh. Worst of all: he can’t find a way out of his own creation.

He tries dissuading his friends from coming in to help rescue him, and risk getting lost (or worse), but eventually, they realize there is no other choice. Against Dave’s wishes, they enter - a merry band of misfits including his nerdy best friend Gordon, Annie, a documentary film crew (?) who want to make a film about the motivations behind his creation, and even a couple of Swedish tourists (??).

If it all sounds dumb, that’s because it is…and that’s the point. It’s clearly not meant to be taken seriously. And that’s part of what makes Dave Made a Maze so special: its freewheeling creativity. The fort's massive interior is filled with origami birds, dangers made out of cardboard (yet that pose a serious life-or-death threat to the protagonists), and blood made out of what appears to be papier-mache (or a similar material). There’s even a scene where the characters turn into hand puppets, an unexpected addition that only adds to its unique charm. The end credits feature animated versions of all the characters of the movie - living or dead - as they wave to the camera; it feels like the cinematic equivalent of a post-performance theatrical bow. It all feels like the quiet daydreams of a young child, the kind where they dream of being the hero, coming to the aide of the damsel (or damoiseau, which I just learned is the male equivalent) in distress, while avoiding monsters and traps. It's like a throwback to the innocence of childhood, long before the dark shadows of adulthood take hold, and threaten to ruin one's natural curiosity. And that nostalgic quality is part of what makes the whole film feel special.

Also lending itself to the experience is the cast - who are uniformly committed to the sometimes bizarre material - and the set design, which is an absolute work of art. The maze itself almost becomes another character, feeling like a living, breathing entity that helps to maintain the film's whimsical attitude. It looks and feels like an A-movie in a B-movie's body, thanks to its attention-to-detail and the obvious care with which it was made.

Now, there are some things working against its fevered frenzy of seemingly endless imagination: It comes mainly in the form of the documentary film crew, and Dave’s dramatic on-camera diatribe about the reasons he made it. The film’s director, Harry, spends the whole film trying to maximize drama and tension, utilizing a boom operator and cameraman (who randomly spits out sunflower seeds almost every time we see him) who follow him wherever he goes. He’s the typical kind of douchey on-screen filmmaker, played for laughs but frequently crossing the line into annoying. Yes, part of that is the point - and by the end he almost becomes likable - but it doesn’t make him feel any less clichéd, and his hapless, bumbling helpers (a boom operator and cameraman) don't help matters any.

The minotaur - who is a buff man with a cardboard head - is also rather pointless, although I guess they needed some kind of immediate threat beyond the constant stream of booby-traps. He shows up at random, pre-planned times to scare the main characters, but feels more like a character in one of those Halloween haunted houses, where part of the effectiveness is lost by performers who aren't allowed to touch the participants. 

There is a small body count, but once again, the papier-mache violence isn’t the point. It’s the banding together of several outcasts, in order to save one of their own, and the often humorous struggles they encounter along the way.

Despite its confusing billing virtually everywhere as a “horror” movie, Dave Made a Maze fits more comfortably in the “fantasy” genre, a throwback to ‘80s adventure films like The Goonies, and Labyrinth. That's because that's what it's meant to be. It’s goofy, it’s funny, it’s silly, and perhaps most importantly, it’s fun. Maybe that misleading connotation is why it unfairly came and went without so much as a peep when it premiered four years ago; this is the type of cult movie that deserves a following. Fans of true horror, or those that like their storylines to be more grounded in reality, won’t find much to like here, but those who seek a film with a laid-back non-pretentious, un-douchey arthouse vibe definitely will. 

RATING: 8/10

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Ghost Stories (2017)

Directors: Jeremy Dyson and Andy Nyman
Writers: Dyson and Nyman, adapted from their own stage play
Starring: Andy Nyman, Martin Freeman, Paul Whitehouse, and Alex Lawther

My wife and I were planning on sitting down to a viewing of Ghost Stories one evening, when she laid down a huge bombshell on me: she wanted to be terrified; a movie that would scare the daylights out of her. While she's always willing to watch whatever I want, she's not always willing to go that far with it; I was psyched, and—even though I'd heard this one was relatively scary—spent over an hour looking for something that would scare her even more--only to come up with nothing. So after all that wasted time, the night went on as originally planned...

...which ended up being a good thing.

The set-up of Ghost Stories is almost as creepy as the stories themselves: Phillip Goodman is a professor, and a skeptic, who runs a television show called “Psychic Cheats”, in which he publicly outs popular “psychics” (think that John Edward guy from the early 2000s). It's an honest living, I suppose, until he gets a letter from his idol, a man by the name of Charles Cameron. Cameron was the “original” naysayer, debunking claims of the supernatural; his earlier works were the main inspiration for Goodman to enter the same field.

The meeting, however, does not go as planned: the crotchety old man reveals that Goodman's work is “shit”, and that there really are some stories that can't merely be explained away with science or logic. He begs Goodman to investigate three stories of the supernatural that he himself could not disprove; these three stories make up the basis for the anthology.

I don't really understand why anthology movies all of a sudden feel like there needs to be a framing narrative around the whole thing, because that usually ends up being the worst of the stories. Why can't we just go back to the good ol' days, where each story in the anthology was just that, with nothing to link or tie them together? At any rate, that seems to be the current fad, and at least Ghost Stories' framing device is rather unique,while at the same time actually adding tension before any of the tales are spun; after all, if the premiere naysayer can't just discuss these stories away, how terrifying must they be?

“Case 1” concerns a former nightwatchman named Tony Matthews, who guards a large, seemingly abandoned building. He worked at that particular place for years, until one day, something seems hellbent on capturing his attention. At first, it's just minor: the lights go out, the generator mysteriously unplugged by someone. But as the night wears on, the events seem to get more and more threatening: there are loud noises heard, interference through his walkie talkie, and something seems to be calling out to him. What could have been so scary that he never went back to that job?

The setting here is perfect, with long shots of him in his watch station that show just how dark—and huge—the building is. And that's actually the best part of Ghost Stories: while the stories themselves aren't anything unique, the way they build up tension out of “normal” movie cliches is pretty impressive. We've seen dark buildings a million times before, but the way the scene is established—along with that framing narrative that hints we're in for something terrifying—really helps to effectively set the mood before anything even happens. Our brains are already programmed to be scared right from the outset; it's almost psychological horror, in a way.

“Case 2” follows Simon Rifkind (the great Alex Lawther, from the great Black Mirror episode “Shut Up and Dance”), a teenager who has never been the same ever since seeing a mysterious goat-like creature deep in the woods on his way home from a party one night.

Again, the setting is familiar, and the story is completely threadbare, but the lack of a long set-up and the filmmakers' grasp of what makes things scary really helps keep things interesting. I mean, how many characters in horror movies have been stranded in the woods by a car that suddenly dies? But here, the desolate setting—along with Simon's loneliness—really help to set the mood. It's familiar, but not quite in the same way we're accustomed to, and that's what makes it rather chilling. I will say that it ends on a somewhat humorous note that die-hard horror fans might not appreciate (I'm not entirely sold on it myself), but the build-up to it is creepy, to say the least.

Lastly, there's “Case 3”, who follows a distinguished looking gentleman named Mike Priddle, who takes his wife to the hospital after she experiences spotting late in her pregnancy. He returns home to do some work—and quickly discovers that something seems to be reaching out to him—from the room they set up to be their nursery.

Once again, this one makes good use of the location--a sprawling mansion that's far too big for two people—and that also preys on the fears of parents, to create a story that had my wife burying her face in blankets for most of it. It's yet another creepy tale that might end up being the best in the lot, and that sets up the film's most shocking scene, which caught us both off guard: it elicited a noticeable yelp from my wife, and dropped my jaw nearly to the floor.

But things aren't quite as they appear: all of them tie directly into Professor Goodman himself, something that he learns the hard way...

I'm not sure that I would really categorize Ghost Stories as all that “scary”--there are some effective jump scares, and while the atmosphere is excellent in all three stories, they really didn't cross the line into truly terrifying territory for me. The most effective scary stories should take the viewer out of their comfort zone, catch them off guard, and create an eerie ambiance that just creates a constant, pervasive feeling of dread. The Innocents did that to me, Black Sabbath did that to me, and even more recent fare like Paranormal Activity and Blair Witch project all managed to get my heart rate pumping, and my hands clammy.

This isn't quite on the same level as those classics, but that doesn't mean that it's not effective in its own right: I had a smile on my face for probably half the movie, simply because the movie was so well shot; it might not have truly scared a seasoned veteran of the genre like myself, but it certainly got to my wife (who, to be fair, is naturally scared of supernatural forces), while every sequence has at least one or two creepy scenes that just naturally reinforced why I love the genre so much.

As seems to be a recurring theme with the genre as of late, the strength of the stories are carried by the performances, and the two standouts here are Andy Nyman, as the skeptical professor, and the aforementioned Alex Lawther, as Simon Rifkind. Lawther is no surprise here—he is clearly one of the greatest young actors working today. He not only has that rare ability to cover a wide range of emotions, but can switch between them on a dime—two things we see on full display here.

The bigger shock is Nyman, who adapted this for the screen (along with Jeremy Dyson) from their own stage play, and who also directed the film together. While it might seem straightforward that someone with a theatrical background could easily segue into the world of film, that's not at all the case; they are two distinct disciplines. Just because you're a good TV or film actor doesn't at all mean it will automatically translate to theater, and vice versa. While the stage is probably less forgiving—there are no chances for alternate takes—acting on a film set also comes with its own set of obstacles; for Nyman to so strongly translate his character to the screen is an astonishing accomplishment in its own right.

It's not perfect, but it's hard to imagine Ghost Stories being executed any better than it is here, and that's saying something. Dyson and Nyman have crafted a strong horror film that maintains an impressive level of consistency across all of the tales; even if you aren't scared, will still have you glued to the screen, wondering where all this is headed. The final twist—an overused plot device that can often singlehandedly ruin an entire movie—is rather brilliantly done, with callbacks and clues in each story that virtually require a repeat viewing in order to put all the pieces together.

If you want a solid horror film to get you in the Halloween spirit, or just the perfect film for a cold, dark winter evening, then there's no need to look any farther than this one.

RATING: 8/10

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CHRISTMAS CAPSULES: A Christmas in Vermont (2016)

Director: Fred Olen Ray
Writer(s): Michael Varrati and Fred Olen Ray, based on a story by Jeffrey Schenck and Peter Sullivan
Starring: Abigail Hawk, Chevy Chase, David O'Donnell, and Howard Hesseman

Here we have a movie produced by Fred Olen Ray, who directed softcore porn for two decades before making the sudden switch to Christmas movies (no joke!); he was also responsible for the Lifetime “thriller” Deadly Shores, which was somehow even worse than the average Lifetime movie—and that's saying a lot. It also stars a woman who is not conventionally attractive which—let's be honest here, and as shallow as it is—is sometimes the only thing that gets us through to the end of some of these holiday duds (never underestimate the strength of an attractive cast, a notion that's magnified when everything else around them is terrible). Then, there's the tired plot, in which said woman works for a heartless boss who wants to close down a business in a small Vermont town just days before Christmas. No way she'll have a change of heart and fall in love with the owner, who happens to be an attractive man around her age! Still not sold on its awfulness? Did I mention that the boss is played by Chevy Chase, who looks like a balloon version of himself, is notoriously difficult to work with (in general), and whose best comedic days are behind him? Clearly, this movie sucks...right?

But this is also the season of miracles, and that is the only explanation I can convince myself of as to why A Christmas in Vermont not only isn't groan-inducingly awful, but a genuinely good example of a holiday movie. I mean, sure, technically after watching it, I can tell you why it's not bad: The acting is uniformly above par all around, the characters are more fleshed out than normal, and Chevy Chase is genuinely hilarious in a role that he probably had no interest in doing. Even by the end, the “unattractive” (which, to be fair, I never actually said) female lead, Abigail Hawk (who I just discovered is known for her role as a lead character is the godforsakenly awful "Blue Bloods", a staple as background noise in the homes of those aged 65 and up) is adorable, thanks to the personality she lends her character, and the conviction with which she plays her part. It's not really any of those things that are shocking in and off themselves, but given the “talent” involved, it's baffling to me how all of those things came together on this set, resulting in a movie full of genuine charm that, at least on paper, shouldn't even be watchable.

It's definitely not perfect: Morgan Fairchild (yes, that one!) is completely wasted as the lead dude's mom, a role that there is absolutely no need for. I'm also still waiting for that Christmas movie that has the nerve to avoid some of the more annoying tropes, such as the “overheard quote taken out of context that leads to the sudden argument between the yuletide couple just as things seem to be going perfectly”; unfortunately, we're still treated to that here. But such moments are at least offset by caring characters, such as the “wise old man” (again, usually the most annoying character in every movie, but not so here), who come off less as the caricatures they've become from appearing in so many of these tired tales, and more like genuine people. Who knew it was actually possible to laugh at a Christmas movie when you're supposed to, and that there could be joy derived from means other than making fun of the incompetence in which they were made?

In the end, A Christmas in Vermont succeeds when it shouldn't, by showing what can happen when a mismatched cast and crew can come together to create a cohesive whole; it's mind-boggling, and perhaps an even more inspiring testament to the magic of the holiday season than the story itself.

RATING: 7.5/10

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MARVEL-LESS MARVISTA: Deadly Matrimony (aka He Loved Them All; aka Vows of Deceipt) (2018)

Director: Jake Helgren
Writer(s): Helgren, and Emily Nye
Starring: Katherine Bailess, Damon Dayoub, Ali Cobrin, and Tiffany Hines

The “best” Lifetime movies are the ones that look like they're not even trying. Whereas in most contexts where that's a positive thing, that would mean that the movie looks and feels great, but that everyone involved has a natural talent that just makes it look so smooth and effortless; in the world of Lifetime, where even the good movies suck, that just means that literally, no one involved looks like they knew what they were doing, and couldn't be bothered to figure it out.

Enter Deadly Matrimony (aka Vows of Deceipt, or He Loved Them All), which is certainly a contender for one of the “worst” Lifetime movies ever made: an idiotic labyrinth of twists and turns that nevertheless might still be gripping were they not executed with pitch-perfect incoherence, and a fundamental misunderstanding of basic logic. But while it may not be “gripping” in the sense that it's a thriller and we're supposed to be glued to our seat trying to figure it all out, it's a jaw-dropping exercise in moviemaking futility; a movie so near-perfect in its ineptitude that it functions as self-parody.

The nonsense starts off right away, when we learn that Sara has just tied the knot with the man of her dreams, a man whom she has known for a whopping three months. Okay...I guess quick marriages are a thing these days, so one can forgive an impressionable 18-year-old for falling in love for the first time and being taken along for a ride she thinks will last forever. Only, Sara is not 18...she looks to be in her thirties (but apparently is only 28). Oh. Even worse: she's an attorney who works on litigation cases. Okay, so she has a career where she has to research people, but never stops to look into the man she's marrying off-the-cuff? (PRO TIP: If you have to ask three different people if you're rushing into something, you've just answered your own question.)

That man is Leo, a suave and sophisticated con man who has an answer for everything. Unfortunately, he's also the type of con man who leaves incriminating evidence everywhere, and so it isn't long before another woman named Melinda appears at her doorstep, offering Sara some juicy information: Leo also goes by the name Sam. And Sam/Leo is also married to Melinda. Whoa, things are heating up pretty quickly here!

Apparently, our protagonist has a history of marrying woman under various names, drains their bank accounts, and then flees onto the next victim. Sometimes, he also kills them, presumably when they (rightfully) realize they've been used and confront him. I can't imagine a person who wouldn't notice that their accounts have been completely drained, nor could I imagine anyone not at least contemplating that it might be the person you don't know that you just married, who went on a vacation before you could even honeymoon, but hey, maybe he's that charming.

Conveniently, and true to his MO, Leo is out of town on business, giving Sara and Melinda plenty of time to network with Cindy, a model and another past wife of his who wants to see him stopped. So our wronged trio gather at Sara's house to put a plan in place, only to discover that the place where he currently “lives” probably isn't the best place to make a plan to capture him. Oh, they also discover that he isn't out of town after all, but watching their every move—sometimes from literally three feet away—and he will stop at nothing to ensure that his plan will continue until he is able to marry, and then steal from, every single woman in the world!

So, what is their brilliant plan? They track down yet another woman—apparently the only one that ever turned down his out-of-the-blue marriage proposal—and convince her to marry Leo/Sam, during which time they will exact their revenge. I'm sorry...what? Wouldn't that be a red flag to a conniving lifetime criminal that a random woman you proposed to months ago just suddenly changed her mind about marriage, and wants to go through with a ceremony without getting to know you again? Actually, wouldn't that be a red flag to anyone? Also, how do all of these women apparently live within a few miles of each other? Call me crazy, but wouldn't you want to spread your marriages out as far as possible in order to maximize the odds that you will get away with it, at least long enough to skip the country, or something? Why, I'm starting to think the reason he's gotten away with it for so long isn't because he's smart, so much as his victims are complete morons.

Oh man, where oh where do I even start? This is exhaustively bad in ways that I never imagined possible from a movie with a budget over $100. Each and every character is somehow stupider than the last, up to and including the suave conman who apparently is so smooth, he's constantly leaving incriminating evidence out in the open. In one unforgettable moment, he even shows how ruthlessly evil he is....by turning the thermostat up to 86 in someone's house. What kind of heartless person would leave a family sweltering in a temporary state of mild discomfort? That bastard!

Then there are the women, who are on such a heightened state of alert out of life-or-death fear that one of them somehow doesn't notice him watching her set the alarm through the front door from three feet away (no exaggeration, either). And, does not one of them ever stop to realize that staying in a house where he has a functioning key to gain entry to is probably the worst possible idea for them?  (Thankfully for him, though, they can't even be bothered to lock the door to begin with.) And, of course, let's not forget the initial fact that they all agreed to marry a guy that they literally knew nothing about.

It's a reverse masterpiece, a nearly “perfect” combination of inept writing and directing that doesn't come along very often. If you're even marginally interested in bad movies, this is one you should go out of your way to check out.

STRAY OBSERVATIONS 

• A necklace will strangle someone to death in all situations, no matter how much leverage a person on top of you with a complete death grip of your neck may have.
• Someone should alert characters in these movies that virtually all smartphones ever made come standard with the ability to block numbers. ("Why does this number that I keep ignoring keep calling me?")
• It's hard to look intimidating when you're holding a teeny gun. Even harder when the gun doesn't work.
• A character falls over with a gunshot wound despite there being no actual sound of the gun going off.
• Anyone can make a Lifetime movie in spirit. But no matter how bad they are, how the hell are they always shot well and look so polished? Isn't there a way to ensure that same quality across the remaining cast and crew members?

ENTERTAINMENT RATING: 8/10

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CHRISTMAS CAPSULES: Snowmance (2017)

If you want a surprising example of "perfect" holiday romance for me, this is it.

A woman, Sarah, and her best male friend, Nick, make a snowman (called a “snow beau”, and named Cole) every year, that captures all of the qualities she is looking for in her ideal boyfriend, with the idea that one day she will find him in real life. Well, twenty years on and she still hasn't found that man of her dreams...until a weird but handsome man, also ironically named Cole, shows up on her front door out of nowhere. Immediately, she knows he is the one, and he promises her the life of adventure that she has always dreamed of. But is he too good to be true? Or will she realize that the man of her dreams is actually the one that's been right under her nose the entire time?

This one can't help but be a stinker, right? Actually, it's quite the opposite, with a charming cast all-around, good acting, and more genuinely funny moments than we've ever seen in a Hallmark-style romance movie. Sure, it's predictable as all hell, but it also benefits from slightly eschewing the normal earmarks of such movies: namely, there are no unbelievable fights between the main love interests that spring out of nowhere just to fulfill genre expectations, and—at the risk of slight spoilers—no evil bad guy that suddenly shows his true colors. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of other “required” scenes that get checked off, but they're not annoyingly done, and all fit within the theme of the story.

At the risk of sounding shallow, the cast (save for Cole) isn't traditionally attractive, but they add depth and personality to their characters that are otherwise missing from other such movies, and the chemistry is there. (Hey, in my defense, the attractiveness of cast is generally the only satisfaction one can fall back on if things go south with the story, which is a common occurrence in flicks of this type.)

Honestly, this is one that we had no expectations for, and, while saying it “blew us away” might be quite an exaggeration, it was not only enjoyable for what it was, but honest-to-goodness just enjoyable as a lighthearted piece of fluff. One of the rare wins for MarVista Entertainment, which has to be one of the worst production companies of all time (yet is clearly successful enough to be able to make dozens upon dozens of these movies every minute).

RATING: 8/10

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In the Company of Men (1997)

Director: Neil LaBute
Writer(s): LaBute, based on his own play.
Starring: Aaron Eckhart, Matt Malloy, and Stacy Edwards

There are very few films as endlessly bleak and mean-spirited as Neil Labute’s In the Company of Men, and that is probably a good thing. It takes a simple idea, and turns it into a mechanism for horror; underneath its façade as a black comedy (and I must confess, it is frequently very funny), it almost plays out like a psychological thriller. By the end, there is nary a life that isn’t ruined; of course the only one virtually unscathed is the one that deserves it the most. It is human nature at its most primitive, and although it’s not a film that anyone short of a sociopath can truly “enjoy”, it still makes for riveting, original cinema.

Aaron Eckhart plays Chad, a business executive who is recently going through the breakup of a long-term girlfriend. So too is Howard (Matt Malloy), his friend since college, and current colleague. Chad is clearly a misogynist; the type of person that gives all business executives a bad name. He’s cocky, arrogant, rude, and vicious, and those are some of his better traits. Howard is about the only person who seems to be free from being the target of his attacks.

The two of them are taking a six-week business trip to a different office, when Chad suddenly concocts a terrible idea: to make themselves feel better, why don’t they find the most innocent woman that they can, preferably one who has no self-esteem, spend the next six weeks buttering her up, and then both just dump her out of the blue. Howard is hesitant to agree, but at the insistence of Chad, he finally relents. After all, you never want to be on the bad side of a guy like Chad, and sometimes that means going along with him when everything within you is telling you not to. Now all they need is a victim.

The first day at their new office, Chad requests the help of a woman in a cubicle who is wearing headphones, and refuses to acknowledge his presence. He thinks this is rather rude, but upon discussing it with another worker, discovers that her disrespect was involuntary: she is completely deaf. The moment he hears this, he knows what we already did—that they have found just the kind of person they were looking for.

And so, over the course of the next six weeks, Chad and Howard take turns dating Christine. She, of course, does not know that the two of them even know each other, much less that they are in cahoots with one another to destroy her life. Chad, being the arrogant SOB that he is, is naturally smoother with the ladies, and so he is the one that Christine is the most smitten with. Yet it’s Howard—poor, bumbling, rambling, awkward idiot Howard—that begins to have feelings for Christine, which clearly aren’t reciprocated. That’s when the whole situation becomes a powder keg threatening to explode at any moment, where even the slightest action can set off a chain reaction of events that could ruin all of their lives.

In the Company of Men appears to be very straightforward at first, but the story weaves along, throwing in a surprising number of subtle twists and turns. It’s always refreshing to see a movie that I can’t completely figure out within the first few minutes, and this was one of them—I had no idea how it would end, until it ended. I won’t reveal specifics, but let’s just say for anyone that was hoping the film would, against the odds, present us with some sort of happy ending, will be ever so sorely disappointed. But as bleak and as depressing as the ending is, the most disturbing truth is that it’s also the most in step with human nature.

The acting is uniformly superb across the boards: to simply pay attention to Aaron Eckhart’s excellent performance, while casting off the rest, is to undermine equally effective roles by Stacy Martin (as Christine, the deaf victim), and Matt Malloy. It’s true that Malloy’s character is probably the most straightforward—he spends a large portion of the movie simply taking orders from Chad and looking hesitant and sad—but he has moments of sudden anger that hint there may be a sociopath lurking just under the surface, and the effect is chilling.

In the Company of Men is an outstanding debut film from Neil LaBute, who would go on to helm some Hollywood fare, as well as plays, over the next few years. Many have come to blast his misanthropic view of the world, which was only heightened over his later works, with critic David Kimmel citing: “Neil LaBute is a misanthrope who assumes that only callous and evil people who use and abuse others can survive in this world.” Unfortunately, all it takes is a quick glance of the real-life world around us to see that he is right.

RECAP: Endlessly bleak and depressing, In the Company of Men, which was adapted into a movie from Neil LaBute’s own play, is nevertheless an audacious, one-of-a-kind work that still somehow manages to elicit occasional laughs. It’s the exact opposite of a feel-good movie, but for those that might be sick of “happy endings” (in a cinematic sense) or manufactured Hollywood works that pander to their audiences, this thought-provoking work might be just the ticket.

RATING: 8/10

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White Dog (1982)

Director: Samuel Fuller
Writer(s): Fuller and Curtis Hanson, from a story by Romain Gary
Starring: Kristy McNichol, Christa Lang, Vernon Weddle, and Jameson Parker

White Dog is Samuel Fuller’s attack against racism, something that is made plain as day, from its title, all the way down to its plot. It’s not a subtle, playful jab, but rather a full-on assault that sat on shelves for years, after studio executives--a type not exactly known for their intellect--somehow confused the message of the picture, believing it to condone racism (to be fair, so did several high profile pro-African American organizations, such as the NAACP, who ignorantly came to this conclusion without apparently ever having seen it.)

For a country that touts all day about our “freedoms”, such as those for speech and press, the fact that a movie such as this was ever suppressed from view for so long should be considered a travesty of the highest order (completed in 1982, it never received a proper release in the United States until Criterion stepped to the plate and released it in 2008). It is entirely unforgivable to think that pro-racism trash like “The Turner Diaries” is widely available from major retailers online, while a movie like White Dog, were it not for Criterion’s commendable efforts, would continue to be unavailable.

Kristy McNichol plays Julie, an actress who, as the film opens, runs over a white German Shepherd with her car. Distressed, she takes the animal to a vet, where she is relieved to discover the animal will survive. But when she mentions her plans to take the dog to a shelter, the vets convince her that he is too old to be adopted, and that he will more than likely be euthanized; not wanting to hear this, she decides instead to post flyers around, looking for the original owner.

A little while later, she brings her dog on set with her while shooting a commercial. Her co-star is a black woman. Unprovoked, the dog simply attacks her. At first, it seems like a terrible accident, but a similar situation reveals that her dog is a “white dog”, or, a dog trained to attack black people. Ignoring suggestions that she should have the animal killed, she takes him instead to a local animal trainer, who of course happens to be black, and he agrees to try to break the animal, much to the chagrin of his colleague, Carruthers. Carruthers, an old, grumpy white man, believes that what animals are taught, cannot be unlearned; Keys, the black trainer, is desperate to prove him wrong.

It doesn’t take much reading between the lines to understand that White Dog isn’t just merely about a dog that is taught to hate; its argument is that any one of us, under the wrong conditions, could have grown up to share the mindset of that dog. The German Shepherd in the movie was not born to hate blacks, just as no baby is naturally predisposed to racial intolerance immediately after crawling out of the womb; it is a trait that must be learned, an impression that is generally made on children when they are young and unable to think for themselves. But even if you simply take the movie at face value—that is, you look at it only as a movie about a dog that tries to unlearn its instincts—it still manages to be potent.

White Dog was clearly made on a low budget, and its financial constraints occasionally come to the forefront: the acting is pretty choppy, and it often looks and feels unpolished. But its fearlessness is certainly admirable, especially considering, if it had been made earlier, chances are it would have been a watered-down crowd pleaser with only a fraction of the emotional impact.

Rumors have it that the movie remained in limbo for years, originally planned for production in the mid ‘70s, with Roman Polanski attached as director. After he fled the country for allegedly drugging and raping a minor, the project was put on hold. Through the next few years, it went from one director to another, with the studio (Paramount) at one point wanting to eliminate the racism aspects altogether, instead aiming for a Jaws reboot on dry land.

It’s certainly a great thing that it eventually landed in the hands of Samuel Fuller, who was unfazed by the racism aspects; he was confident in the material, as he had dealt with those themes in previous films. However, the outcome would be bittersweet: following the way executives handled the movie after its completion, Fuller would move to France, and never direct another American film again, eventually passing away in 1997.

Rather than face a self-imposed exile, this should have been a rebirth of Fuller’s later career, rather than a final nail in the coffin for his Hollywood career. This is unfortunate, because White Dog is a powerful tale, one that unfortunately only continues to become more and more relevant as the years wear on.

RECAP: Perhaps a little ahead of its time, White Dog was shelved by Paramount after the studio received heat from several organizations that labeled this movie as “racist”, an accusation that couldn’t be farther from the truth: This is clearly an anti-racist picture, focusing on the attempts to “cure” a white German Shepherd that has been taught to attack blacks. Its low budget occasionally makes slight cuts into its effectiveness—the acting is choppy and uneven—but the overall story remains strong, even when it strays into “preachy” territory. Criterion Collection should be commended for being the first to release this on any format in the United States, because this is an important film that continues to become more and more relevant with each passing year, and depressing proof that some things never change.

SCORE: 8/10

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Onibaba (1964)

Director: Kaneto Shindo
Writer(s): Shindo
Starring: Nobuko Otawa, Jitsuko Yoshimura, Kei Satô, and Jûkichi Uno

Kaneto Shindo’s Onibaba features many similarities to his later work, and first one of his that I ever saw, Kuroneko: Both center around a mother and daughter-in-law awaiting the return of a son and husband who is off fighting a war, both detail the struggles of women during wartime, and both feature landmark visuals, among other things.

But whereas Kuroneko focuses on a love story, using haunting visuals only to help the story along, Onibaba seems focused more on nurturing an atmosphere of primal terror. Thanks to its simultaneously gorgeous and eerie photography, it does an admirable job, though I would say that it falls just a tad bit short of attaining “classic” status for me.

Nobuko Otawa and Jitsuko Yoshimura play the mother and daughter-in-law, respectively, who "earn a living" by killing passing samurai and exchanging their possessions for food. To dispose of the bodies, they toss them down a deep hole. The women are awaiting word on the fate of Kichi, the son/husband, when a neighbor, friend, and fellow war comrade, Hachi, returns to the village alone. He comes bearing bad news—Kichi was ambushed during battle, and killed. The mother (neither of them are ever identified by name) demands to know how Hachi managed to survive, and then automatically presumes that he did not do enough to help her son. I expected this to be a talking point, or some kind of plot device, but just as quickly as the accusations begin, they stop.

Adding to the awkwardness, Hachi doesn’t even give the family time to mourn before immediately hitting on Kichi’s now-widowed wife; while the mother is appropriately angered, the wife seems to forget her dead husband pretty quickly, and before long, the two are engaged in a passionate affair. The daughter-in-law waits for her mother to fall asleep at night, then runs through the tall susuki grass to Hachi’s nearby hut to engage in some frivolous fun. It doesn’t take long for the mother to find out.

One night, as her mother is preparing to follow her daughter-in-law to her secret meeting place, she is stopped by a samurai wearing one of the most impressive, chilling masks in cinema history. I must confess that it would have been even more impressive, had a simple search on a popular internet search engine of simply the film’s title, not revealed dozens of pictures of it, thus eliminating the element of surprise. But no amount of pictures can do it justice quite like seeing it on the screen for yourself. Even though the same mask is used in every shot, Mr. Shindo brilliantly utilizes light and shadows to give the impression that the mask is moving to convey the samurai’s emotions—it’s an astonishing effect that has to be seen to be believed, and the scenes involving the mask really do manage to be frightening.

Anyway, the masked swordsman is merely lost, and at first asks the mother to help him find his way out of the seemingly neverending maze of susuki grass that surrounds their home. The mother declines the request…at least, until the samurai threatens her with death if she does not comply. Reluctantly, she agrees. Along the way she asks him why he wears the mask, to which he replies that he is so handsome, people cannot stand the sight of him. She asks him to show her his face in exchange for leading him out to the main road, but ends up tricking him into falling down the hole.

Eager to see his true face, she rappels down the hole herself, and eventually manages to rip the mask off, only to discover it’s the face of a normal-looking man, save for the bits of his flesh that have been torn off, along with the mask. Not really curious as to why, or how, a mask would get so stuck on someone’s face, she begins using it to scare her daughter-in-law as she treks to Hachi’s house…

What we get with Onibaba is certainly great, but my mind was awash with everything that we don’t get. Given its reputation in some circles as one of the scariest movies ever made, I anticipated a certain level of mystery and intrigue—for example, I was expecting the identity of the masked swordsman to play a more crucial role, or to at least build suspense (is he the murdered son looking for revenge on his wife and friend?; an actual ghost or demon?), but it’s never really allowed to. In fact, everything is so…straightforward…that it’s somewhat disappointing that the story cannot even come close to matching the dreamlike visuals. Did Hachi have anything to do with Kichi’s death, in an intentional bid to close in on the wife? Such questions, which really could have added some depth to the story, go unexplored; yet given the actions of the characters, could be legitimate concerns.

Despite my feelings of being a little under-satisfied given its immense reputation, Onibaba is still an excellent horror picture, and one that any true fan of horror cinema should check out. Even if you’re not a fan of foreign movies, you can simply pop it in, mute the TV, turn off subtitles, and just get lost in the film’s stunning black and white photography. But if you don’t mind a few subtitles and want to immerse yourself in the full experience, Onibaba will certainly deliver, though one can't help but feeling that it could have delivered a lot more.

RECAP: Rife with haunting, and sometimes terrifying, imagery, Onibaba is great for what it is: a straightforward horror tale. My biggest complaint is that it’s too straightforward, with many potential subplots, which could have provided both some added scares and depth, ignored. That being said, the mask is one of the scariest ones ever used in a horror movie, with director Kaneto Shindo cleverly utilizing camera angles and lighting to give the insinuation that it’s continually moving. It falls just a bit short of being a horror classic for me, but there are no doubts in my mind that it should be required viewing for all fans of the genre.

RATING: 8/10

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Lair of the White Worm (1988)

Director: Ken Russell
Writer(s): Russell, based upon the novel by Bram Stoker
Starring: Amanda Donohoe, Hugh Grant, Catherine Oxenberg, and Peter Capaldi

I never knew Ken Russell personally, but I have spent a good deal of time reading about the man. He has long been a cinematic inspiration of mine for many reasons, not the least of which was his willingness to dabble in just about any genre. He is that rare artistic talent that somehow managed to avoid being pigeonholed: He was nominated for an Academy Award for Women in Love, a dramatic film based on the novel by D.H. Lawrence, but he is just as well-known for films like Tommy, The Who's (in)famous rock opera; The Devils, a shocking historical work based on fact, and considered so obscene that Warner Bros. refuses to release it uncut to this day; and Altered States, a science-fiction film based on the novel by Paddy Chayefsky. And this isn't including his biographical films, which are notorious for their blending of fact, fiction, and Russell's own opinion of the subjects.

Despite not knowing Russell, though, Lair of the White Worm comes off as his take on the standard horror narrative. It's true that Altered States, which Russell directed eight years prior to this one, is also considered a horror film, but: a.) its foremost focus on science and isolation chambers puts it more in the science-fiction realm to me, and b.) in what was a rarity, Russell had no input on that script whatsoever (full control was granted to Paddy Chayefsky, who was adapting his own novel). With Lair, Russell wrote the script himself, based off of the obscure, final novel of the same name by Bram Stoker, and also combined that with the myth of the Lambton Worm, a legend from the northeastern UK about a large, poisonous worm with a taste for livestock and babies. I have not read Stoker's novel, nor will I ever, but it's reportedly rather misogynistic and completely racist: Sounds like the perfect launching point for a Ken Russell film!

Actually, to be fair, Russell removes all of the racist elements (by taking the black characters out entirely...in this PC age, isn't that still considered racist?), and I didn't really find it to look down on women any more than most movies do. It's true that the men are the main “heroes” of the film, with all of the women serving as either victims, or the main villain, but even today, utilizing scantily-clad females to be the damsels-in-distress is still par for the course—it is no better or worse than any number of other such films.

Choosing to adapt "Lair of the White Worm" was actually a pretty genius decision on Russell's part: by picking both the weirdest, and most universally panned, novel from a famous author, Russell was pretty much free to do with it as he pleased. And that is exactly what he does, adding in his trademark blasphemy and bizarre hallucinations in equal measure, while infusing it with a healthy dose of comedy. It's almost as if he's making a mockery of the source material to prove some kind of a point—what that point is might not be obvious, but I'm sure there's some kind of a statement in there somewhere.

Speaking of serious, Lair of the White Worm stars Hugh Grant well before he would become a popular actor in romance films. As I did to Ken Russell to start this review, I will also offer my non-personalized opinion of Hugh Grant: he strikes me as a complete prick who would have laughed at a script like this if it were presented to him in this day and age. I have nothing to back that claim up, except for a hunch, but either way, it's both humorous and kind of satisfying seeing him in such an uncharacteristic role, away from the romantic leads for which he was famous (for a few minutes, anyway).

The “plot” gets loads of scorn for being hard-to-follow at best, or nonexistent at worst, but I thought it was fairly straightforward: Angus Flint is an archaeologist student looking for artifacts at a bed and breakfast run by two sisters, Mary and Eve. He finds a large skull that he believes to be a dinosaur skull at first, but after discussing it with Mary decides that it can't be: it's from a different time period. But it doesn't look like any modern creature, so Angus is rightfully confused.

There's no time to play sleuth, though, because Mary drags him to a party, in the house of mega-rich Lord James D'Ampton (Hugh Grant); the night is actually in honor of his ancestor, John, who, according to town history, sliced in half a large worm that was terrorizing the city. True to the freewheeling, carefree genius of Russell, the D'Ampton Worm legend is explained to us via a folk-rock song being played live at the event, and made complete with a large worm puppet crawling through the dancing partiers, until James separates the two halves with a sword. It's an admittedly catchy little number, performed by Emilio Perez Machado and Stephen Powys, and based on an an actual English folk song, and properly sets the stage for the lunacy to follow.

Some time the next day, Police Constable Erny stops by to drop off a wristwatch that was found in Stonerigg Cavern; the find obviously takes an immense emotional toll on Mary, who demands more information that, unfortunately, Erny just doesn't have. The cause of Mary's distress is the disappearance of her parents about a year prior; despite a heavy search attempt by all the residents of the town, they found nothing at all—no bodies, no evidence, zilch. That's what makes this find so immense, and at the same time, curious—why did it turn up now? Mary wants to find out.

Could it have anything to do with Lady Sylvia Marsh (Amanda Donohoe, in a brilliant role), a creepy woman who lives in a large estate known as the Temple House? She certainly arouses suspicion when she hears about the large skull being kept in the sisters' bed and breakfast, and furthers that feeling when she breaks in with the sole intention of stealing it. She doesn't exactly make a strong case for her innocence when she emits fangs and sprays venom on a crucifix hanging in one of the rooms (in a scene that is so blatantly evil and blasphemous that it's somehow badass; this brief sequence, which comes out of nowhere, is easily one of my favorite scenes in any Russell film, and maybe even across the whole genre, period). She definitely seems like a strong possibility as an accomplice, given her snakelike tendencies, and clear obsession with the amphibious creatures, but we can't be for sure until...welp, she just bit a boy scout on the dick with two large, venomous fangs that paralyzed his nervous system so that he could be a human sacrifice to a worm god, so yeah, she seems to be guilty as hell.

To speed things up a bit, she captures Eve, with plans on using her as a human sacrifice to appease the gods, while James, Angus, and Mary start putting the pieces together. In a scene that's equal parts camp and brilliance, they blast a snake charming song across the city using large speakers, with Angus and Mary sneaking in to Sylvia's house when she's under its spell. There, they look for clues, and Mary comes face-to-face with someone that she wasn't expecting...

It's mostly fun and games here for Ken Russell, and the feeling is contagious: I inexplicably loved this movie the first time I saw it, and I loved it this time. Russell's explosive hallucinatory visuals make a few appearances here, and the film is made better because of it. I can't explain why I cackled with glee at the sight of Roman soldiers raping nuns underneath a crucified Jesus, who is wrapped up by the D'Ampton worm (it's in the context of a delirious vision one of the characters has), but it happens so suddenly that it's a thing of beauty. Amanda Donohoe is brilliant as Sylvia Marsh, striking a perfect balance between appealingly-sexy seductress and purely-evil vixen.

The inclusion of comedy also works well, with Russell maintaining a lighthearted atmosphere despite some dark story elements; he seems uninterested in building suspense, even in moments where it really could have worked. Part of that is a knock—I really would have liked to have seen his ideas on how to scare an audience—but there are many genuine laughs to be had here. Lair of the White Worm will probably always remain a prime example of a filmmaker on his way to ruin (he was having an increasingly hard time finding funding for his films, and the box office flop of this one was another nail in his coffin), but to me, it feels like the final bit of brilliance from a fearless director who made a career out of doing things his way. The whole film even feels like an apt metaphor for Russell's entire career: It doesn't always work, but when it does, you can't peel your eyes off the screen.

RATING: 8/10

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Possession (1981)

Director: Andrzej Zulawski
Writer(s): Zulawski and Frederic Tuten
Starring: Sam Neill, Isabelle Adjani, Margit Carstensen, and Heinz Bennent

Rarely in the annals of cinema history has such a hectic film been branded with such an unimaginative title. I’d imagine that many who had never heard of it would have simply scoffed it off and ignored it on video store shelves, images of an uninspired Exorcist ripoff dancing through their heads. But on the other hand, for those adventurous few that decided to pick it up anyway must have been in for a hell of a shock, because Possession is nothing like you would imagine it to be.

If you have stumbled on this blog looking for an explanation, or some kind of answer as to what it is they have just witnessed, or, if you have not yet seen it, what you should prepare for, I will save you the hassle of reading and just tell you to move along. Just as I long ago lost interest in trying to decipher cryptic, often personal lyrics in music, so too have I stopped wasting time attempting to decode the motives and inspirations of filmmakers. There’s absolutely no point to me. Some people can’t enjoy a movie unless they attempt to understand every single nuance of the film they just viewed--if that helps them to get involved, then that’s great--but I don’t like spending a lot of time searching for answers that just aren’t there, or can’t be readily verified.

In this case, all that director Andrzej Zulawski has revealed is that he wrote the screenplay for this film while he was going through a divorce. So then it is perhaps not surprising that divorce plays a pivotal role in Possession; as it opens, Anna wants a divorce from her husband, Mark. The weirdest part about it is that the change seems sudden—as far as Mark is concerned, they were doing just fine. He demands to know why, and after much hesitation, Anna finally reveals that she found another lover, Heinrich, whom she has been seeing for over a year.

From here, we go into the typical range of emotions that we expect to experience in a drama dealing with a crumbling relationship: Mark pays a visit to Heinrich and questions his own shortcomings that might have played a role in their downfall, while Anna toggles between her two lifestyles, one as wife and mother, and the other as lover in a relationship with newfound freedom. But then we go into territory that goes unexplored in most similar films, as Anna slowly starts to lose her grip on reality. She neglects her child and disappears for days at a time, while Mark tries to hold everything together as best as he can, including taking care of Bob, their young child.

She’s gone more and more frequently, leaving Mark to question her whereabouts. Where is she spending a majority of her time? Does she have more lovers than just Heinrich? He hires a private investigator to get to the bottom of this mystery; the PI follows Anna to an apartment building. He calls Mark to let him know Anna’s whereabouts, before gaining entrance to her place by posing as the building manager. But what he comes face-to-face with in her bedroom is something beyond description, and it’s the last thing he sees before Anna kills him.

You know what? I’m just going to stop with the synopsis right here, because none of it really matters. As I alluded to from the outset, there’s really no possible way to tell exactly what’s going on: there are killings and creatures, and Mark even has an affair with a woman that looks exactly like his wife (and is, in fact, also played by Adjani). The movie often feels like a series of interconnected dreams, with only a vague resemblance to real life. The tradeoff is that this movie is pretty unpredictable, with the menacing, surrealistic atmosphere that would have been impossible to obtain with a more traditional narrative. Its ambiguity is also a big reason that it has any sort of fan base at all, with people still attempting to analyze every little detail. Oh, and it doesn’t hurt that it also has, quite possibly, one of the greatest single acting performances of all time.

Sam Neill is just fine as Mark, the estranged husband, but the centerpiece of Possession is the jaw-dropping performance from Isabelle Adjani. Apparently, the facts state that shortly after this film was completed, Adjani suffered a nervous breakdown, and rumors persist to this day that it was the requirements from playing the character of Anna that pushed her over the edge. She has never verified or denied this, at least not that I could find, but just watching her completely envelope her character, going far beyond the call of duty, it’s easy to believe that it’s a strong possibility. Her Anna spends a good majority of the film losing her mind, screaming at her poor husband for the smallest of offences, and slowly losing her grip on reality.

It’s a strong, all-around performance. But it can all be summed up in one (in)famous scene in which she “miscarries” (whether it’s figurative, or literal—or both—within the confines of the story is another matter) all alone in a subway. The build-up, in which she screams, and writhes, and crawls all over the dirty floor is an epic one-woman show in and of itself, to speak nothing of the shocking way the scene ends. It also functions as the perfect introduction to this film: If you watch the clip and are still intrigued, you will probably like Possession a great deal. If you can’t make it all the way through, well, it’s probably good advice to stay far away. 

Because things get even weirder than that.

RECAP: Isabelle Adjani’s unbelievable performance, which just may be one of the greatest performance of all time, is the centerpiece of this surrealistic nightmare from director Andzrej Zulawski (RIP). The face-value “storyline” is simple, and concerns a husband desperate to find out what’s causing his wife to slowly go mad, but it’s completely obvious there’s much more to it than that. If you enjoy analyzing movies down to the final detail, this would be a great pick for you, whereas anyone that enjoys a more straightforward narrative will end up lost and/or frustrated. I’ll end this on a word of warning: Don’t be fooled by its simple, unimaginative title. It’s not a typical possession flick (if it even is at all), and only gets weirder and weirder as it rolls along.

RATING: 8/10

TRAILER

Don't Torture a Duckling (1972)

Director: Lucio Fulci
Writer(s): Fulci, Roberto Gianviti, and Gianfranco Clerici, from a story by Fulci and Gianviti
Starring: Florinda Bolkan, Barbara Bouchet, Tomas Milian and Irene Papas

I have always wanted to see Lucio Fulci’s Don’t Torture a Duckling, but was never in the right mood when I had chances to see it. Me being a gorehound at the time also played a role in that decision: I had heard that it wasn’t as violent as films like Zombie, or The Beyond, and just figured it would bore me. Well, after signing up for an all-horror streaming service, I found it amongst the films being offered, and decided right then and there that it was time to clear my mind of any expectations, and finally view one of Fulci’s rare forays into the giallo film.

And what I learned from it is that, admittedly contrary to my beliefs, he was actually a talented director. Now please don’t take that the wrong way (as easy as it would be to do), because I happen to really enjoy the Fulci movies that I’ve seen. Zombie is a cinematic landmark of the subgenre (I’m still shocked that Microsoft, of all companies, used the underwater zombie vs. shark sequence in a nationwide television advertisement for something-or-other), while The Beyond compensates for a terrible, nonsensical plot with some top-notch gore effects—not to mention an excellent finale featuring zombies inside an abandoned hospital that ranks as one of my favorite moments of any such movie. So there is no doubt in my mind that this man was capable of getting high-quality simulated wounds on the screen; many of them even hold up as pinnacles of the genre today (the little redhead girl getting her head blown off in The Beyond, anyone?)

But Don’t Torture a Duckling is Fulci at his most clever—it’s a well-directed, and yes, even well-written mystery that quietly weaves in and out of any number of twists and turns, until it arrives at a surprisingly poignant finish that is as convincing as anything Fulci has ever put to screen. I wasn’t expecting a masterpiece—nor did I get one—but this is nevertheless a gripping cinematic turn that is a lot closer to perfection than I would have ever expected it to be.

Since the many twists and turns are a big part of what make giallo films special, I won’t elaborate into a lot of details here—the more that you discover on your own, preferably while watching the film, the better. Don’t Torture a Duckling starts off with the murder of a young boy. As the townfolk try to figure out who among them is the killer, a couple more children disappear. Could it be the mysterious woman who came on to one of the missing children a mere hours before he met his untimely demise? Or what about the local witch, who gets angry at the children for messing with the grave of her own dead child? Or is it the reporter that has come to help investigate the killings? Or maybe one of the policemen sabotaging his own investigation…much like the masters of the genre, Fulci makes sure there’s never a shortage of possible suspects or motives floating around, which truly lead to some brilliant, and thoroughly unexpected, revelations.

But here, he also demonstrates a competence in the director’s chair that I’ve never seen in any of his other films. Like the scene where a woman is murdered, in fairly graphic fashion, while the radio plays in the background. Midway through the extended kill scene, the song ends, with the disc jockey announcing that the next song will be slower; it is, and this slower, sad song provides the remaining background music to a scene that starts off brutal, and actually ends up being harrowing. This sequence was the first time that I really stood up and took notice of Fulci’s actual talents, which he tended to bury under buckets of blood and gimmicky kill scenes. This sadness also manifests itself, as I hinted at earlier, in a twist ending that’s similar to ones that have been done before, yet manages to elicit actual sympathy, for even the killer (in a way), thanks to Fulci’s excellent direction.

Of course, it is an Italian horror film, so it’s not without its fair share of bad: the English dubbing frequently crosses the line into self-parody, with voices that don’t come close to matching up to the people using them, and the grand finale features special effects so terrible that I can’t believe Fulci let them stay in the film at all. It also takes quite a while to get going, with the first half feeling slow and uneventful when compared to the second half, which finally starts to advance the plot.

However, this finds the director at his overall best, at least from the limited filmography I have seen from him. He seems confident and assured, and doesn’t merely fall back on special effects as a way to distract from the plot holes in his later films. Here, he’s blessed with a great script (that he also helped to co-write) and a fantastic story. And while there’s really nothing that’s all that new here—it is, after all, modeled after a pretty basic mystery storyline (who’s killing these children?)—Fulci’s fresh take on it makes it a gripping film with more than a few surprises in store for his open-minded fans that don’t mind letting the graphic violence take a backseat to the story.

RECAP: This is Fulci’s best overall movie that I’ve seen. Gorehounds will be largely disappointed that, aside from a couple scenes, there’s not much of his trademark gore, but there are a couple after shots of young corpses that are still completely jarring. Here, the mystery of the plot takes center stage (who’s killing the young children in a village) and thanks to assured direction from Fulci, it rarely becomes anything less than gripping. He even imbues some genuine emotion into the film at a couple different points, making it so much more than the one-note gorefests his later films would become (very enjoyable gorefests, but one-note nonetheless). The dubbing leads to some unintentional hilarity, while the film does take quite a while to take off, but the quality of just about everything here (save for a terribly hokey final death sequence that I’m seriously shocked Fulci himself signed off on) is loads better than just about anything else he would go on to do. Great stuff.

RATING: 8/10