Another light week, I fear, as I was again caught up in work and other writing projects – but then, I’ve done too little of the latter recently, and I think the time was just as well spent on them. But I did see three films, and a rather motley crew they are…
All the King’s Men (1949) – ***½
This has always seemed to me to be one of the more overlooked Best Picture winners – the kind of film that tends to be considered a classic without being watched or referenced all that often. Maybe it’s because writer-director Robert Rossen never quite became a “name” director; after all, it didn’t win Director or Screenplay, something only two films have done since. Maybe it’s the lack of real stars – Broderick Crawford and Mercedes McCambridge were very much character actors, while John Ireland and Joanne Dru got leading roles but were never in the upper ranks of stardom. Or maybe it’s the film, which has much that is good but too little which is really great.
The story, of course, deals with Willie Stark (Crawford), an ostensibly honest rural politician who rises to fame, first by opposing a building project which later collapses, killing several children, and then by learning that he was made the pawn of power brokers, leading him to make a fiery, hungover speech which galvanizes the crowd. He becomes a demagogue and is elected governor, but becomes just as steeped in corruption as the men he once railed against, until a truly honest man, who’s seen his own family crushed by Stark’s ambition, assassinates him.
It’s told from the perspective of Jack Burden (Ireland) a reporter who is impressed by Stark’s idealism and tenacity, and who eventually goes to work for him…only for Stark to use his investigative skills for digging up dirt on his opponents. Stark also begins an affair with Burden’s girlfriend, Anne Stanton (Dru), alienating his main strategist and probable lover, Sadie Burke (McCambridge). And if that’s the way he treats his friends, you can imagine what he does to his enemies.
Some aspects of All the King’s Men remain extremely relevant. The climactic scenes, where Stark’s supporters surround the state capitol building as his impeachment trial proceeds within, are almost comically prescient. His rhetoric, about fighting the powers that be on behalf of the people – and claiming that his opponents are therefore enemies of the people, whatever their motivations – echoes to this very day. And the fanatical devotion he inspires from his followers…well, just look around you.
Other aspects are greatly informed by decades of hindsight and revelation; for my part, I question just how honest Stark ever truly was, or if the power he amassed simply brought out the worst in him. Look at his face when the parents of the children killed in the collapse bemoan their failure to listen (“I am punished for voting against an honest man!”). I see the wheels turning. I see the seed of his demagoguery beginning to sprout.
But then, this is a rather cynical film to begin with, with Willie’s nihilistic credo “Man is conceived in sin and born in corruption” being only the most blatant expression of that cynicism. Burden, whose eyes we see most of the story through, is himself a cynic, but Stark’s idealism brings some light into his world…a light which ultimately goes out as he finds himself and everyone around him drawn down into Stark’s pocket. And can look at Anne’s starstruck admiration of Stark, her willingness to be his mistress (even though he’s married), and her forsaking Burden to do so; how can we not shake our heads at what charisma hath wrought?
I haven’t read Robert Penn Warren’s original novel, though I’m sure it deserves its own classic status (it won the Pulitzer, after all). And I’m sure it has all the relevance and thematic depth of the film and a lot more besides, since the film, for all its strengths, often feels rough and sketchy. It’s no surprise to learn that the rough cut ran over four hours, and that drastic measures were taken to get it down to its present 109-minute length. But perhaps the film we have is just a bit too lean.
Many modern reviews note how quickly Stark goes from “good” to “bad,” which is a fair point; there’s also Burke’s truncated character arc (she largely vanishes in the last 20 minutes or so), the use of montages to convey what we might have liked to see in a bit more detail, and the numerous plot points and secondary characters which never feel fully fleshed out. The final scene in particular feels too chaotic for its own good, even allowing for how it compresses the ending of the novel.
But if the editing (which was Oscar nominated) is partly to blame, a lot more rests on Rossen’s shoulders. He was nominated for his writing and his direction, but his direction is particularly uneven. Some scenes are superbly done, like Burden seating the severely hungover Stark on a child’s swing and fetching him a drink (Stark weakly waves away some children who gawk at him), which is then liberally spiked. It’s all seen from a distance, and all we hear are the sounds of the carnival going on around them. But others are crudely staged, with the aforementioned final scene being an especial mess, with Stark’s death (he just flops over on his side and “The End” appears) packing little punch.
As for the writing, it has some real strengths, of course (though many of those may come straight from the novel), but whether because of the editing or Rossen’s own shortcomings feels, again, like an approximation of the novel, its characters and themes, rather than a true adaptation. Rossen lost both Oscars to Joseph L. Mankiewicz for A Letter to Three Wives, a film which isn’t really that much better remembered, and certainly wouldn’t seem to be a directing showcase as such, but then 1949 was a bit of an odd year for film.
The acting is really the highlight of the piece. Crawford won the Oscar for Best Actor, and he certainly does an impressive job. His big, hungover speech, full of anger and resentment and raw truth, is the obvious showcase, but he’s comparably effective at showing the low-key bullying Stark employs to get his way behind closed doors. I could never quite buy him as the honest naïf of the early scenes, but then again, I wonder if he ever really existed. McCambridge won Supporting Actress, and while I don’t think the film always gives her all that much to work with – it’s not always clear just what Sadie actually does – she had such a distinctive presence, a combination of snarky slyness and semi-concealed vulnerability, that she makes her impression. I haven’t seen all of the competition for either of them, but I suspect they were both good choices.
Ireland was also nominated, albeit for Supporting Actor (he’s got more screen-time than Broderick, but he’s a much more passive character), and he’s really very good as well. Some have criticized his performance for being wooden or dull, but I think his laconic, heavy-lidded passivity is just right for Burden, a man who ultimately does little to stop the corruption of the people around him, but at least survives to tell the tale. Dru doesn’t really get the most out of her potentially fascinating character, but as her brother, Shepperd Strudwick is likewise well cast as a man too weak to fully resist Stark, but too proud to embrace him.
It all adds up to a solid film, a low ***½ that I wish was closer to ****, but still probably a lot better than the 2006 remake, which I’ve heard very little good about. It’s not one of the best Best Pictures by any means, but it’s certainly worth a viewing for its stature and its relevance. Pauline Kael wrote that Stark “might just make you feel better about the President you’ve got.” She had no idea.
Score: 79
Spiral: From the Book of Saw (2021) – ***
I had never seen any of the Saw movies (if I haven’t said so before, horror isn’t really my genre), so why did I make a point of seeing Spiral? Simple: I’ve been a Chris Rock fan for years, and the notion of him playing a dramatic lead intrigued me, as the did the fact that the original idea for the film was his (and he also apparently had a hand in the final script). I’m not sure if going in so cold helped or hurt the film, but I found it packed just enough of a punch, between the torture-device scenes and the themes it attempts to tackle, to get into the *** range. It’s not really that good, but as far as I can tell, it does all right at what it set out to do.
Det. Zeke Banks (Rock) is an unpopular member of the police force, having testified against a dirty cop years earlier. After a maverick undercover assignment, Capt. Angie Garza (Marisol Nichols) forces him to take on a partner, rookie Det. William Schenk (Max Minghella). They’re sent to investigate a gruesome death – a man hit by a subway train – and soon discover that the victim was a policeman repeatedly accused of lying on the stand. The perpetrator sends them a explanatory video featuring Jigsaw’s spiral logo, and it’s clear they’ve got a copycat on their hands.
As Zeke and Schenk try to track down the killer, more victims, all crooked police officers, accumulate. Zeke’s father, legendary former police chief Marcus Banks (Samuel L. Jackson), offers to help review the evidence, but while apparently doing some investigation of his own, goes missing. As more cops fall victim to the killer’s elaborate devices, Zeke finds himself increasingly isolated, increasingly haunted by his past, and no closer to catching the killer.
Even when the perpetrator is revealed, the film continues down a bleak path, resulting in a final beat as hopeless as any I’ve seen in a recent major film. Maybe I just don’t see enough modern horror films, but those final moments really are unsettling in their sheer bleakness; Zeke is a difficult man with few friends, but you really want to give him a hug by the time the credits roll. And that’s after we’ve dealt with the other deaths, which are about as gruesome as I’ve been led to expect from this franchise.
Indeed, if there’s a Saw trademark, it’s elaborate, karmically-calibrated devices designed to force the characters to make horrific sacrifices to save their own lives. Whether it’s ripping out one’s own lying tongue, pulling out one’s fingers (which pulled the trigger that killed an innocent man), or severing one’s own spinal cord (for “not sticking your neck out’), Spiral is sure to make you cringe.
But there’s also the whole theme of the killers’ focus on police corruption and brutality, and how it tests the loyalties of Zeke, whose own attempt to fight corruption hurt him more than anyone. It’s no great surprise that the film doesn’t do as much with this theme as it could, but it works just well enough to not seem like the producers were just trying to cash in on a timely issue, even if they ultimately were.
It would have helped if Darren Lynn Bousman’s direction was less hyperactive, or if Jordan Oram’s sporadically effective cinematography and Dev Singh’s editing didn’t indulge his vision so much. Many of the torture scenes are so overdone, with quick cuts and swooping camera moves, that they lose some of their visceral effect. They’re still gruesome enough to unsettle, but a little more restraint behind the camera would’ve amplified the horror. The production design and makeup, at least, are quite accomplished.
Rock is allowed to indulge his stand-up roots a bit too often; his first scene has him riffing about Forrest Gump for no particular reason, and he gets other riffs, especially on the subject of marriage, which feel more like Robin Williams breaking into a Brando imitation in Dead Poets Society than an organic part of Zeke’s character. But he otherwise does pretty well as a dramatic lead, using his snarky-smartass persona not to wink at the audience but to show how Zeke girds himself against the troubles he faces on a daily basis. Bousman’s direction doesn’t always help him (there’s one shot of him walking down a hallway where he looks like he’s fleeing a bad odor), but he does a solid job overall. The rest of the cast is adequate but mostly unremarkable; Jackson is underused, but he’s one of those actors who’s inherently worth watching, and he gets a few moments of delectable bombast.
I could make a case for rating Spiral lower, but honestly, it does enough right that I felt genuinely shaken by the end. Sure, if you think about it for any significant length of time, it doesn’t hold up, which is why it comes in at the bottom end of *** – but given the reviews, and given the fact that this is the ninth film in the franchise, getting that high is some measure of praise. However, it remains only the second-best film featuring Chris Rock as a maverick cop on the trail of a killer…after Osmosis Jones.
Score: 65
Reptilicus (1961) – *½
Reptilicus is schlock, but it’s hard to say how much of that schlockiness is due to the bad dubbing of the American version, and the recutting (however much there was) which came with it. What the American version didn’t ruin was the special effects, namely those of Reptilicus themselves, which are so bad as to undermine the surprisingly decent technical standard the rest of the film attains. And it seems likely that the characters, human and otherwise, were just as thin and uncompelling in the original Danish version. As with Spiral, I could make the case for rating this a lot lower…but there’s just enough evidence of competence and intelligence at work to keep it from being a really strong contender for my Bottom 100 list (well, if I’d seen it before making the first version of the list, it would be on there, but in the “top” 10).
Copper miners in Lapland (whether in Sweden or Finland is not specified) discover something strange beneath the surface: blood and flesh belonging to some deep-buried creature. Scientists from Copenhagen are brought to investigate, and they determine the remains are those of a previously-unknown reptile. Samples are brought back to the Danish Aquarium and studied by Prof. Martens (Asbjørn Andersen) and Dr. Dalby (Povl Wøldike). Further excavation turns up a piece of the creature’s tail, and when Dalby negligently allows it to thaw (it had been kept frozen), it begins to display signs of regeneration.
The scientists decide to put the tail into a nutrient bath, and it grows rapidly; it soon acquires the name “Reptilicus,” and American officer Gen. Grayson (Carl Ottosen) is brought in for security purposes, along with Danish officer Capt. Brandt (Ole Wisborg). Also along for the ride are the miner who discovered the remains, Svend (Bent Mejding), UNESCO scientist Connie Miller (Marla Behrens), Martens’ daughters Lise (Ann Smyrner) and Karen (Mimi Heinrich), and oafish watchman Peterson (Dirch Passer).
Before long, Reptilicus regenerates into full…reptile-hood, is that the word? In any case, they escape, devouring Dalby in the process, and begins to terrorize the Danish countryside. Grayson and Brandt do their best to protect the populace and put an end to Reptilicus’ carnage, but their thick scales and corrosive vomit (yes, corrosive vomit) make them a formidable foe, and soon Copenhagen is under attack. Complicating Grayson’s intention to blow Reptilicus to pieces is the realization that if they do, all of those pieces could possibly regenerate into a whole new monster…
The most frustrating thing about Reptilicus isn’t that most of it isn’t good; it’s that it comes a lot closer than I expected to being, at the very least, a passable monster movie. I’d like to see the original Danish version, partly so I could avoid the bad dubbing, which makes the already one-dimensional characters even harder to relate to, but also because it might not include the clunky, mostly unnecessary narration from Grayson, which tells us very little that we don’t know or learn. The original cast apparently did most of their own dubbing, but it doesn’t really help; we still feel fundamentally detached from these characters.
Not that they’re very interesting; Grayson is rather unlikable, especially at first, and Martens’ daughters serve no real purpose to the story except to provide love interests for the male characters (aggressive ones, too – Karen in particular seems anxious to get her hands on them), while Peterson is there because Passer was one of the most popular comedians in Danish history; home video releases in Denmark tend to bill it as a vehicle for him, even though he disappears once Reptilicus escapes. I can’t say I was much impressed by his antics, but presumably his presence sold tickets.
For all that, there’s some promise in Reptilicus. Aage Wiltrup’s cinematography, especially in the laboratory scenes, is really quite atmospheric, and the scenes of military maneuvers and fleeing civilians have an effective sense of scale; there was clearly some real effort put into the film, and some credit goes to director Poul Bang (Sidney W. Pink is credited as director on the American version, but I’m not sure if he did much more than direct the dubbing) for his staging. Sven Gyldmark’s score is also fairly solid, and the sound effects, whether from the Danish original or the American dub, get the job done. This was clearly a film made at least in part by professionals.
But then there’s Reptilicus, and there’s just no getting past how bad the effects are. Maybe if the film was in black-and-white it would’ve helped – maybe. But Reptilicus is a dreadfully unconvincing puppet, with feeble wings and the most useless limbs I’ve ever seen – two claws stuck to their torso, which make a T. rex’s arms look like a damn chimp’s. And Reptilicus’ acid puke is represented by glowing green blotches animated directly on the film, without any depiction of their effect on those who get gunged by them. Many of the shots of Reptilicus are done in slow-motion, presumably in an attempt to seem more realistic, but at this they fail utterly. Moreover, Reptilicus has no personality, no motive, no nothing. They’re just a generic rampaging beast.
Add in weird scenes like the totally extraneous travelogue sequence where Grayson and Miller (or Lise, I don’t remember) jet around Copenhagen, commenting on the sights and visiting Tivoli Gardens so we can watch Birthe Wilke perform the immortal “Tivoli Night,” and you’ve got a film that’s frankly something of a mess. It’s worth a look for the curious, being the only Danish kaiju film to date, but for genuine thrills and chills, look elsewhere – and honestly, it’s almost too competent to even be really worth it for connoisseurs of camp. Not a great place to be.
Score: 32
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