Posted by David Kalat on August 31, 2013
Salvador Dali’s surrealist career was bookended by his experiences in the movies.
I have to couch that statement with the limiter “surrealist career” because Dali was a prolific and prodigious talent whose larger artistic career in toto is almost incomprehensibly vast—he was painting like a pro when he was a small child, and kept at it until 1989. That’s right, Dali was around to witness the first Internet virus. Just wrap your head around that.
But… he is known and celebrated primarily as a surrealist, and it is that phase of his career which intersects the world of movies. And therein lies our tale.
Posted by R. Emmet Sweeney on May 22, 2012
The post-WWII economic expansion exploded in 1950, as the GI Bill’s low mortgage rates stoked a housing boom and pent-up consumer demand propped up retail. Success was there for the taking, but not for all. Two early 50s films that are hitting home video in impressive transfers, Joseph Losey’s The Lawless (1950, on DVD 5/29 from Olive Films) and Fritz Lang’s The Big Heat (1953, now out on Blu-Ray from Twilight Time), documented some of the anxieties caused by this enormous upheaval in American life, what would be the start of the greatest stretch of economic growth in U.S. history. More money meant more crime, and The Big Heat is a nightmare rendering of the American Dream, as good cop Glenn Ford loses his nuclear family and just goes nuclear. The Lawless is an earnest morality play about the plight of migrant fruit pickers in Southern California, doing the work Americans left for office gigs (by 1956 a majority of U.S. workers held white rather than blue collar jobs).
Posted by David Kalat on April 7, 2012
Last year I had the privilege of participating in the Blu-Ray restoration of the restored version of Metropolis (the UK Blu-Ray edition at least, from Masters of Cinema), recording an audio commentary alongside Jonathan Rosenbaum. It was a tremendous thrill to see this once-lost footage brought back into circulation—it makes you think that maybe anything is possible. But for all that was positive about the experience, there was one point of frustration, centered on how the restored edition was marketed. And to explain my contrarian position, we need to back up over eight decades and tell the convoluted story of multiple Metropoli.
Posted by Richard Harland Smith on March 2, 2012
These are challenging times for the horror movie fan. The dominance of digital technology has larded the genre with tons o’titles no one in their right mind could ever get around to seeing; meanwhile, plenty of big studio and mid-sized horror continues to gush through the locks… and I find myself propelled ever more backwards, backwards, backwards. I’ve developed a fetish for early sound and silent horror… the primitive, the chalky, the chiaroscuro, the unforgettable. Awaiting delivery of Jonathan Rigby’s Studies in Terror: Landmarks in Horror Cinema (Signum Books, 2012), I reread his earlier American Gothic: Sixty Years of Horror Cinema (Reynolds & Hearn, Ltd., 2007), which details the employment of grotesque, arabesque and evermore curioso themes in American films from the first nickelodeon flickerings through to the horror-science fiction hybrids that were all the rage before the United Kingdom’s Hammer Studios rebooted Gothic shocks with CURSE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1957). If ever a print book demanded hyperlinks, it would be American Gothic, particularly for its early chapters on silent horrors. While I read the book cover-to-cover the first time, this time I paused to research interesting titles on the Internet to see if any might be viewable in any form. Most weren’t but some were and it was very gratifying to augment my reading with parallel studies of my own. In so doing, I began to think about the use of creeps in old horror movies… shadow figures who haunt the periphery, either to frighten or kill off the normals or to be used for some occult purpose. Think The Bat in THE BAT (1926) or The Cat in THE CAT AND THE CANARY (1927) or even Cesare the Somnombulist in THE CABINET OF DR. CALIGARI (1919)… you know, skulking characters of questionable motive and infernal design. Those guys. [...MORE]
Posted by Kimberly Lindbergs on September 8, 2011
Posted by David Kalat on August 13, 2011
I am a Claude Chabrol fan. What does this mean? Well, among other things, it means that when I heard that Twist had come out on DVD, I immediately rushed to the Internet to buy a copy, and the instant it arrived, I watched it. This, for a film that even Chabrol himself admitted (correctly) was his worst ever creation. So, this week, a tribute to M. Chabrol, by way of his worst film, in all it’s stinky, putrid glory.
Posted by R. Emmet Sweeney on May 3, 2011
In a bit of home video serendipity, the films Fritz Lang made in Hollywood and Germany from 1956 – 1959 were all recently released on DVD. The Warner Archive put out re-mastered versions of his last two Hollywood films While the City Sleeps (1956) and Beyond a Reasonable Doubt (1956), while the UK Masters of Cinema label produced a luminous edition of his two-part Indian epic, The Tiger of Eschnapur (1959) and The Indian Tomb (1959). All four films snare their main characters in webs of malevolent fate. The first two pin their characters inside geometrically arranged compositions, granted the illusion of motion in a world constantly boxing them in. This is garishly illustrated in the Indian Epic, as seen above, with elaborate imagery of imprisonment emerging from the set design. They use strikingly different methods to pursue similar ideas of fate and desire, from threadbare pulp to embroidered imperialist myth.
Posted by David Kalat on March 12, 2011
“It was the silliest of movies.”
That was how H.G. Wells described Fritz Lang’s METROPOLIS. Wells went on to detail, with the maddening precision and relentless nit-pickery of the true geek, everything wrong with METROPOLIS. If he’d been writing today instead of 1927, Wells would have been at home fanning an online flame war.
Then, about ten years later, Wells had the chance to put his money where his mouth was—or, rather, put Alexander Korda’s money where Wells’ mouth was. It was directed by William Cameron Menzies, and is an eye-popping a piece of SF spectacle as you could ask for, but on the posters and the title sequence, it was Wells’ name above all others, above Menzies, above Korda. This was Wells’ movie—and so it’s fair to see it, in part, as a direct answer to METROPOLIS. And for all the nice things about THINGS TO COME, it does have some rough edges and awkward bits that reveal what happens when you put a disproportionate value on the predictive aspects of your speculative fiction.
Posted by Kimberly Lindbergs on December 16, 2010
Every year I try to compile a list of my favorite new DVD releases. These lists tend to focus on films from the ’60s and ’70s since they’re my favorite film eras. This year I decided to expand my view a little and disregard limitations so I could share a varied list of all my favorite DVD releases with Movie Morlock readers. This list is far from complete since I haven’t had the opportunity to see every new DVD that was released but I hope it will encourage a few people to seek out these films. Many of the movies on my list were released on DVD for the first time last year so they’ve been hard to see unless you own them on video or caught them playing on television. So without further ado, here’s some of my favorite DVD releases from 2010 listed alphabetically for easy reference.
Posted by Kimberly Lindbergs on November 25, 2010
When did “Thank You” become so hard to say? I’m constantly amazed by the surprised looks and unexpected smiles I get from strangers every time I utter those words. It often seems as if I’m speaking another language. A language that is both hopeful and confusing to anyone who doesn’t hear that simple phrase very often. Shop girls and delivery boys are often taken completely off guard when I thank them for their work. The mailman seems utterly shocked when I utter a quick, “Thanks!” for his service. Even people that I’m friendly with occasionally act surprised when I thank them for recommending a movie or lending me a DVD. I was raised to say “Thank you” for whatever good fortune I received and I’m grateful to my parents for bringing me up that way. I’m also thankful that I’m able to put my misfortunes aside and enjoy some of the simple pleasures in life like getting my mail delivered in a rainstorm or getting a good cup of coffee served by a weary waitress whose face lights up after I thank her. I’m also thankful for the movies I’ve grown up with and the people that made them. Movies aren’t just mild entertainment in my home. They’re art, story and sound. They’re wonderous things that have gently helped shape who I am and how I see the world. On this Thanksgiving holiday I can’t resist giving thanks to a few of the moviemakers that I’m especially grateful for lately.
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