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The Score (2001)
Dir: Frank Oz
Stars: Robert DeNiro, Edward Norton, Marlon Brando and Angela Bassett

I had the pleasure of re-watching this little caper/action/adventure recently.  Now, I don’t mind admitting that back in the day, I was a bit of a DeNiro fan.  As in memorize the movie lines to Taxi Driver, Raging Bull and of course, Heat.  I mean slick my hair back like in Goodfellas kind of fan.  True story: once, back when my brother and I were busboys, we were closing the restaurant in a back-party room, and we recited the entire Pacino/DeNiro/restaurant scene from Heat without a problem.  Too bad it wasn’t Shakespeare, but we bloody loved it!  And I’m aware that I’m not unique in my impression of DeNiro’s talents – I’m sure there are many of you who can out-quote me and have gone to even more extreme ends to imitate his great roles.  So, when I saw the preview for The Score, I flipped out.  Not only did we have my man DeNiro starring, but we also had what some might call this generation’s equivalent, Edward Norton in there.  As if the film makers were teasing me with all this fun, THEN they throw in Brando’s involvement.  I’m not sure what I would’ve done if it had turned out to be a lie…

Official Trailer – The Score (2001)

Regardless, in case you don’t take the time to watch the trailer linked above, the film concerns a tricky heist job that is presented to a master thief played by DeNiro named Nick Wells.  It seems that a long time associate of his named Max (Brando) knows the whereabouts of a priceless French scepter.  Aside from Max’s shady behavior, two problems exist in acquiring the scepter.  A scepter, by the way, is….  You know what?  If you don’t know what it is, use the dictionary!  Anyhow, the first problem with it is it’s located in Wells’ back yard – the customs house of Montreal.  Second, he’d have to work with this kid from the States played by Norton, who has inside access to the item.  An interesting element of Norton’s character is how he gets the job within the customs house playing the “part” of a special needs person.  It’s a great set up to a near classic film.  I say that because The Score opens with a great scene in which they establish why Nick is such a master thief.  The scenes involving DeNiro and Norton planning the job are also very interesting and terribly fun to watch: in other words, the story definitely tells a “new” heist story and walks the line of the caper genre without being cliche.  The main course of the actual heist contains unique elements, some tricky timing and surprises.

I think you can tell by now that I love this title: so why isn’t this film “four star” worthy?  What makes it fall short of “classic” status?   Unfortunately, two elements work against the film’s ultimate success.  The first is the involvement of the Angela Bassett character.  She’s Nick’s girlfriend, and they continue to work through their relationship problems as the story progresses.  Her character is in maybe five scenes total, and they’re the typical, contrived fare you might expect: you know, the “when are you going to quit this wayward lifestyle that you refuse to tell me about, Nick” kind of scenes.  I took the opportunity when I watched the movie recently to fast forward through these scenes.  It’s a different and immensely more fun film.  This is not – repeat, NOT – to take anything away from Ms. Bassett.  I adore her acting and her film choices over the years.  But her character in this film is a total distraction and ultimately, the scenes with her and Nick interrupt the otherwise tight paced action.  Another way to have gone about this would have been for Nick to have FINALLY met a woman at the end, something that he and Max could have been talking about throughout the film.  Speaking of Brando’s Max character…

It pains me to write this, but for me at least, the other element that prevents The Score from reaching “classic” status is Brando’s involvement.  And boy, do I detest myself for typing that out and publishing it, but the Max character is a distraction.  This comment is not intended to come across as harmful or pick on Brando just to do so: instead, I really believe his involvement in the film seems dialed in, cliche and silly.  Suddenly, the editing seems less sharp as Brando has to take time to move from this mark to that one.  His lines are delivered in an average and loaded manner: I’m sure you’ve heard the stories from Superman and Apocalypse Now of his having a wire in his ear through which an assistant would recite his lines – so he wouldn’t have to memorize them?  Can you imagine if Bruce McGill had been inserted in this role?  Or maybe Peter Gerety??  Or – pardon me for even suggesting it – Jack Nicholson?

Again, I fear that at some point (somehow, some way) these comments above will be taken out of context?  Let me clarify: I really, really like The Score.  And I like Brando, too: but I don’t like all of his roles, and this is certainly one of them I’m frustrated with.  I like how Frank Oz uses the music and a city that I’m far too familiar with in Montreal, Canada to set a tone to this caper.  There are unique elements to the script, the photography and these characters. And it pains me to talk negatively about Ms Bassett and Mr. Brando’s involvement: but I hope these comments come across as a tribute to the medium of film – it’s a fickle beast, isn’t it?  Just one or two little things can be “off,” and even with a great script, dynamite cast and cool locale, those “off” elements can ratchet the experience down.

Unintentionally Added Note: I saw the World War II action picture Red Tails a month or so ago.  Well worth a watch, by the way, but damned if this movie didn’t suffer from this same syndrome of having a love story which seemed oddly out of place?  Again, not taking anything away from the talent involved, but I would have much preferred more screen time dedicated to the pilot who gets captured and placed in the German prison camp in Red Tails.  That side story was fascinating!  Instead, I had to endure a romance that didn’t quite hit the mark.  I guess my question is this: is a love interest truly necessary in each and every film?  My suspicion is “no”…

Yet another film that’s worth a re-watch and where you can test my fast-forward approach is Hollywoodland.  I saw this in the theater and remember leaving with a feeling of disappointment.  I love 1930s – 1960s period pieces, particularly those involving cops and gangsters and the like, and the film just left me… “meh” somehow.  At the time, I couldn’t put a finger on what it was that disappointed me, because on the whole, it was a fine film.  Watching it at home years later, I realized it was the scenes dedicated to Adrian Brody’s character’s alcohol problem – they were so unnecessary!  The story was compelling and complicated enough without this additional hurdle for the character to jump through.  And why did he have to solve this problem during the time this story was told to us, the audience?  Would love to get feedback from you guys if you agree with this “idear” of mine, that some films are just needlessly loaded with side stories that detract from the whole?

Frankenstein (1931)
Dir: James Whale
Stars: Colin Clive, Mae Clarke Boris Karloff and Frederick Kerr

Young Frankenstein (1974)
Dir: Mel Brooks
Stars: Gene Wilder, Peter Faulk, Teri Garr, Gene Hackman and Marty Feldman

Hopefully, you’ve had a great Halloween and are still in the mood for a couple of fun, seasonal movies…

Good old TCM aired the original (see note 1), 1931 version of Frankenstein this month, and I had an opportunity to watch it this weekend.  I can see why it’s a classic, if not a little cliche and downright funny in some parts.  Within James Whale’s version, there is plenty of horrific action to be afraid of, including lightning storms, a drowning, drunk family elders, people burning other people to death, a woman attacked in her home, a mish-mash of body parts being sewn together and then sparked to life with said lightning…  Some folks might say that this classic is too tame by today’s standards (see Note 2).  Perhaps that’s what I like about it so much!  There is a straight forward style to the film, which lets the actors and the setting of the story do much of the legwork in building the suspenseful story towards its inevitable climax.  Just as we see in King Kong from 1933, this is a tale about Man’s desire to have things that we’re not supposed to.  It’s as simple as that – to me, that’s a scary element to human nature to explore.  

But just like I commented on in my Psycho entry, for me it’s the little things that make Frankenstein horrific.  Sure, the monster made of dozens of different body parts is scary when you think about it – and thanks to this version for sparing us the visual of this assembly.  For me, watching ol’ Dr. Frankenstein and his faithful assistant, Franz, mill and dig about the graveyard in the opening scene was plenty for me.  But what about the angry crowds who nearly riot in this picture?  What about the collateral damage of the little girl – who was the only one who tried to be nice to the monster, by the way – who drowns because Dr. Frankenstein made this “thing” he couldn’t control?  What about the doubt and fear the good doctor’s fiance feels as she triesto figure out this “experiment” he keeps vaguely referring to?  What about the good doctor’s crippled assistant, Franz, tormenting the monster with his torch?  Apparently the monster’s Achilles Heel was fire in the end, which makes his ultimate demise all the more upsetting.  In all, while it’s easy to discount these classics like Frankenstein and Nosferatu as dated and out of touch, I submit that there’s still some very basic, primal fears that are accurately portrayed here – even if some scenes were obviously shot on a sound stage!

If there was one funny element to the 1931 version, it was Dr. Frankenstein’s dad.  This guy really, really liked his cocktails.  He kind of fumbles over his lines and loudly interrupts people that he’s talking to, which reminded me of Mr. Potter in It’s a Wonderful Life.  There’s one scene in which a bunch of the maids in the Frankenstein mansion bring the old man some drink, and he gets all excited, saying something like, “Well… we shouldn’t let this bottle of my Grandmother’s go to waste….” I couldn’t help but laugh.  Which is a nice segue to the 1974 comedy classic by Mel Brooks, Young Frankenstein.

In the same way that I would suggest you immediately watch the Austin Powers movies (at least The Spy Who Shagged Me and International Man of Mystery) after you finish the first five installments of the James Bond series, I see Young Frankenstein as a truly appropriate end to your evening once you finish the Whale classic! The strongest element of Mel Brooks’ comedy is how he militantly follows the original story.  Even shot in black and white, the sets and the elements of the story are a near mirror image of the original.  In this one, though, you’ve got Gene Wilder as the young descendant of the infamous scientist, who insists on being called “FRONK-en-steen” at the beginning of the tale.  But by the time he’s come to the castle and he’s had time to poke around the secret passageways, not to mention his finding the great book, “How I did it” by his uncle, the young man is ready to pick up where his elder left off.

Just as the little things hit me in the 1931 version, they effected me in this 1974 parody, too.  It’s as if Wilder is merely fueling the supporting cast’s great moments!  You’ve got Cloris Leachman as Frau Blucher – “kneee-hee-heee-hun,” go the horses.  Then there’s the town constable, played by Kenneth Mars, who seems to have gotten used to his wooden arm.  Then there’s Marty Feldman, who plays Frankenstein’s assistant, Igor….

Note 1: Can I just say how much I adore Wikipedia?  For a movie nut like myself, it’s pretty good at the ol’ trivia – in this case, it reveals that there was at least one predecessor to the 1931 Frankenstein made in 1910 by Edison studios, if not another in 1915 called Life without a Soul…

Note 2: I’ll tell you one thing this film has in common with today’s films – its sequels.  This 1931 picture spawned five sequels, for a total of six films (not counting the parodies, which we’ll address in a moment here): so, when you think of the Nightmare on Elm Street, Friday the 13th and Saw series (see note 2), it seems horror is one of those genres in which the studios will make as many related films as the audience has a thirst for…  Here’s a tally of the sequels for each of these series below:
A Nightmare on Elm Street (1985) had seven sequels
Friday the 13th (1980) had seven sequels, too
Saw (2002) had six sequels, the last of which was in thrilling 3-D!

Please allow me to take a stab at a scene that’s been unfolding in my head ever since the Sight & Sound list deemed Vertigo the best film of all time…

INT. SIGHT & SOUND OFFICE – NIGHT TIME

NIGEL and CHARLES enter the darkened office in late June, 2012.  They are both very drunk and stumble around as they attempt to find the light switch and their respective office spaces.

NIGEL: Why’s the bloody rub-a-dub have to close so EARLY?

CHARLES: Oh, Nigel, you know they always close that time of day.  Sorry that bird I was chatting with wasn’t interested in the ol’… wait a tick, I might be Stevie Wonder…

NIGEL (reacting to email): Bollocks!  Charles, quit f***ing about and come over here!  The pitch and toss wants that damned top films list by tomorrow day’s dawning!

CHARLES: He’s balmy, without a Brussels sprout, mate…

NIGEL: Well, we can’t simply put Citizen Kane in Geoff Hurst again, now can we?

CHARLES: Bly me!  Where’d me tiddly wink go?

NIGEL: Charles, we’re not in the nuclear sub anymore.  Wake up, mate!  Which film will we put tip top, then, hey?

CHARLES: I’ve got it… Why not that film by that native New Yorker Hitchcock?  The silly one with Jack Stewart fumbling about –

NIGEL: You mean Vertigo!  Oh, that’s lemon tart that is, Charles!  Let me get my aristotle of needle and pin and we’ll get started!

Both men start laughing without control, falling out of their chairs.  Please see the following link for a translation of the dialogue above:
http://www.cockneyrhymingslang.co.uk/

So what’s the point here?  I feel like the list is really rather pretentious and it does more to hurt than help.  There, I said it.  The list was obviously assembled by a bunch of critics and professors who are trying to out-intellectualize each other.  I mean, look at this… you’re telling me I should watch Veritgo before E.T.?  I should rent Breathless before Wizard of Oz?  Oh, and I should take in Ordet before Pulp Fiction, huh?  In who’s world?!?  Again, the world of intellectuals, critics and film snobs: so, my suggestion is to take this list for what it is.

Now on to Vertigo – and believe me, I’ll keep this brief because I am not – repeat NOT – recommending you watch this film.  Recently, I’ve read articles by Roger Ebert and Owen Gleiberman that discuss Vertigo better than I might.  Seeing as it was airing on cable, I even made myself re-watch it, figuring maybe I missed something the first time I saw it years ago.  But I’ll put it this way: I’d recommend Hitchcock’s Lifeboat before I’d recommend Vertigo.  I’d do a cartwheel if you’d see Rope before Vertigo.  Even The 39 Steps should be viewed before this so-called #1.  Never heard of any of these titles?  Don’t let that discourage you if you haven’t!  Regardless, here are some of the huge issues I had with ol’ Vertigo:

1) How does James Stewart’s Scottie character survive the first scene?  HOW!?!  Isn’t that kind of important?

2) How, in any way, am I supposed to buy the fact that Stewart is playing a detective?  He’s playing Jimmy Stewart brilliantly, but a veteran San Francisco police detective who’s seen it all?  No, I…. I think not.

3) How engaging is the “action” of a detective tailing a mark?  It can be extremely interesting – see Bullitt, Internal Affairs, French Connection or 50 other films first – but watching Stewart ramble around San Francisco with that look on his face that says, “I know I’m playing a detective, but I really don’t feel like I know where I’m going, even though there is exactly one (1) off-green Rolls Royce in this entire town!”  And then we watch this “action” for many, many screen minutes….  What a great time to hit the restroom or call home or try that recipe you’ve been meaning to make!

4) Kim Novak’s Madeleine Ester supposedly kicks the bucket midway through the film, right?  Are you telling me that Scottie wouldn’t have insisted on seeing the body?  Sure, because that makes sense with his obsession over this lady so far, right?  That he’d just forget the whole thing and show up to court makes total sense!  Actually, wait a minute…. NONE of that makes sense.

5) Finally – and let’s be clear that there are more issues with this little movie that I don’t have time to cover – let’s consider the fact that this Judy Barton, who was “playing” Madeleine earlier in the movie, stays in San Francisco.  A woman who agrees to play the part of someone else for money is probably a con artist right?  After pulling a big ol’ score, do con artists usually just dye their hair and take a job at the nearby department store?  No, actually, they usually move away.  Far away.  Not Judy!  Hmmmmmm.

Please do yourself a favor and see Citizen Kane if you’ve never seen it: it’s an incredibly sweet treat to watch.  There are fifty layers to its cake.  And if you want to watch a good Hitchcock or two, please see Psycho and/or Rear Window (both covered here already on ronhamprod.com) or some of the titles I list above.  If you like, get a cheap copy of Vertigo and put it on your DVD or Blu Ray shelf – and then let it collect dust.  When one of your intellectual, film snob friends comes over, they’ll have the satisfaction that you have it in your collection and that must mean that you’re really really smart – and you’ll have the satisfaction of never having seen the bloody movie.

Mississippi Burning (1988)
Dir: Alan Parker
Stars: Gene Hackman, Willem Dafoe, Frances McDormand, Brad Douriff and Steven Tobolowsky

I grew up in a predominantly white suburban neighborhood in the midwest.  I have never had the experience portrayed in the opening scene of Mississippi Burning: a white gent goes to get a drink of water at a public water fountain in a hallway.  The water fountain is labeled, “Whites.”  A moment later, a little African American boy goes to get a drink of water at the water fountain right next to the “Whites” fountain.  That one is labeled, “Colored.”

Immediately following this scene, the credits begin to roll over the images of a small church burning to the ground in the middle of the night, with a somber hymn sung to support the scene.  It’s an effective, moving combination of image and sound, as if the production is trying to connect the seemingly peaceful act of two people getting a drink of water at a fountain with the underlying fire in the hearts of the people that posted those signs?  I could be off…

The movie concerns the murders of three civil rights activists deep in Mississippi in 1964.  The portrayal of the murder is shocking and violent, and sets the stage for the subsequent FBI investigation and related violence that unfolds.  We meet Agent Ward (portrayed by Willem Dafoe) and Agent Anderson (played by Gene Hackman) as they drive down the highway to the tiny town in Mississippi where the three activists were last seen.  Agent Anderson is going through the bureau’s file on the Ku Klux Klan and finds a little song that they wrote to celebrate their so-called beliefs.  As Anderson begins to sing the song for Ward, it’s clear that he’s got a darker sense of humor and ability to see the opposite side’s point of view.  Ward, however, is a pure bureau man.  Does things by the book.  In this scene, Ward makes it clear to Anderson that he’ll insist on being respected despite his youthful disposition.  It’s also established that Anderson used to be a sheriff in a little town just like the one they’ll be living in for the foreseeable future.  The set pieces for a grand drama are in place within the first 15 minutes: you’ve got an urgent problem that obviously must be solved by the end, you’ve got real villains established (see note 1) and you’ve also got these FBI agents who are coming to the rescue.

The drama unfolds with the same potency as these early scenes.  The Klan inflicts horrible atrocities upon the Black community in an effort to ensure no one speaks with the bureau agents and more importantly, no African Americans register to vote.  Meanwhile, the bureau fumbles and stumbles as it “goes by the book” and attempts to get hard evidence against those involved in the shooting.  The only progress in the investigation stems from Agent Anderson’s interaction with one of the Sherriff’s Deputies’ wives, played by Frances McDormand.  The Deputy himself, played with a sinister cool by character actor Brad Dourif (the Doc in Deadwood, anyone?), is like the rest of those involved in the KKK: a stone wall.  However, he’s got an airtight alibi with the Mrs., who insists he was with her for a key 50 minutes of time the night of the murder.

I’ll get to some of my favorite scenes, which would be well played in any acting school.  For now, I want to comment on a feeling I had in watching the film last week: it was as if there was another layer that I hadn’t noticed before…  I kept wondering what that element was that makes this film so good?  The “something else” I’m referring to is related to the yin and yang of the two head FBI agents, Mr. Anderson, and Mr. Ward, who only refer to each other with a “Mr.” in front…  Personal feelings concerning “the bureau” aside, I consider these two characters to be heroes.  However, the fact is that Anderson is frustrated with Ward because he’s so “by the book” he won’t listen to reason.  On the flip side, Ward is furious with Anderson because of his “good ol’ boy” sentiments and refusal to follow procedure!  Dare I say it, until they agree to start working together, these two “hate” each other.  To me, that’s the layer of the film that’s just subtle enough to sends its message over the top: what I mean is, there are hopefully very few of us who can identify with the hate portrayed by the KKK characters in the film, but surely there are many of us who can relate to frustrations with our work associates… or our friends… or those we live with.

“Let me tell you a story”
I think this element of the film, the very idea of storytelling, is a theme I’d overlooked before.  Whether it’s the bad guys in the film telling their buddies an off color joke – or worse, a true story of their violent escapades – or the newspapermen trying to gather the elements of their story necessary for an article, or Anderson telling Ward about how his father murdered their “negro” neighbor’s mule, the movie is full of stories.

Think of the great use of interviews that are edited in about midway through the movie.  By now, the FBI has hundreds of men in the area and they’ve enlisted the help of the National Guard to search the swamp for the bodies of the missing activists.  The news men interview several locals to get their perspective on the whole matter as the National Guard and Agents search in the background.  One of the interviewees, a white woman in her 50s with a typical 1960’s styled hair-do, insists that black people aren’t like her, that they’re not hygienic and that “they smell.”  This woman didn’t look like a pillar of hygiene herself, by the way…

Regardless, I wondered after I finished the film where in the hell that lady ever heard such a thing?  Or was she behind that one African American with B.O. that one time in the grocery years ago?  Or worse, was it a story that her best friend told her – that she actually believed?  Was it something her parents taught her?  These thoughts were naturally provoked, I’m sure by the scene in which Frances McDormand’s character vents to Anderson, saying hate isn’t something you’re born with: it’s something that’s taught and something you marry.  While Anderson’s story about his dad is disturbing, I think its theme is clear that sometimes it’s worth questioning that story you heard…

The other scene I want to comment on regarding “let me tell you a story” concerns one of the FBI Agents capturing the Mayor right outside his house and taking him to a tiny shack to interrogate him.  This Agent has been recruited to the team by Anderson, only he and Ward had a bit of a “heart to heart,” chat that featured Ward pressing a gun to Anderson’s forehead.  No love lost between these two.  Regardless, some folks might think the FBI was out of line in this scene, or that their tactics were extreme.  I disagree with this thought and would encourage those who think that to go back and watch the scene again: the Agent lays a hand on the Mayor only at the end of the conversation.  The only thing that had the Mayor so scared was the guy’s story!  Well, that and the props he used…

By now I think you can tell I absolutely adore this movie.  I hope this isn’t ruining anything for you (again, I’m somewhat against the whole onus on me of having to label sections with “spoiler alert”), but I’ll end by saying that part of the satisfaction in this film is that justice is actually served.  Sure the film is based on a true story (loosely, as all “true stories” are), but I feel like so many of today’s films are willing to end on a very gray note.  With this tale, the “arcs” of the characters are complete and justice has been served.  Anderson and Ward at least learn to respect each other’s methods and stop hating each other.  Those who were responsible for the civil rights activists’ murders are brought to justice, at least for the most part.  In other words, we all learned a little something and had a thrilling ride.  Do yourself a favor if you haven’t seen this one in a while – or worse, you never saw this one – and bump it into the ol’ Netflix cue!

Savages (2012)  *** Skip ***
Dir: Oliver Stone
Stars: Taylor Kitsch, Ben, Salma Hayek, Jon Travolta, Blake Lively and Benicio Del Toro

This film is one of the most violent movies I’ve seen in the past several years.  Its plot is confusing rather than enigmatic.  While the acting and technical aspects (particularly the cinematography) are extremely well done, the movie is frustrating to watch.  So why am I commenting on it?  Because it also possesses one of the best previews I’ve seen in the past year – here’s the trailer for you to observe:

Savages Trailer

OK, so what do you see?  For me, I see a couple of good looking fellas I wouldn’t mind hanging out with for a couple hours.  In fact, there might even be some “Odd Couple” elements since one of them is more “granola” and the other is an ex-G.I. Joe… I see a gorgeous girl, who apparently is going to narrate this tale… OK, so, these three are apparently in a three way relationship with no jealousy or problems?  That’s fine… those relationships exist in the real world, right?  Somewhere?  Whatever – I’m still in!

Um, what else?  I hear some great tunes – particularly in the middle after Taylor Kitsch hauls back and smacks Travolta in the noggin…  Oh dear, I see Benicio Del Toro being crazy, which is something he does very well (see Way of the Gun, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, and even the Bond film, License to Kill).  Oh, my… now I’m seeing Salma Hayek in a Bettie Page wig?  I really don’t even care what else I see, I’m going to see this film.  ASAP.

And so, whenever it was this spring when I saw this preview, I put July 6 in the back of my mind as the opening date and went about my business.  So then, why is this film such a strongly suggested “pass?”  Glad you asked!  Let me tell you why:

1.  The preview does not prepare you for the level of violence in this movie… I went in expecting a fun action romp with some rough spots.  What I got was a bad dose of Pulp Fiction stirred with Saw, not to mention a date that was ready to punch me in the eye.  And she would have been justified in doing so!
2.  The voice over by Ophelia (Blake Lively) was distracting and annoying.  I was shocked to hear so much narrative in an Oliver Stone picture.
3.  The fact that Oliver Stone directed this.  I guess he decided to try and surpass his level of violence portrayed in Natural Born Killers?
4.  Another thing – even with Natural Born Killers, the bloody story made sense!

Now then, just for example’s sake, have a look at the new trailer for the upcoming Billy Friedkin movie, Killer Joe:

Killer Joe – for download from iTunes

Do you see the difference in the preview?  This preview says to me, “See this, if you dare….”  The green title card at the beginning alerts you to the fact it’s rated NC-17.  The story is appropriately presented to you as well as the actors involved.  There’s no sexy music, rather, it’s an ominous and foreboding score.  And it’s clear there’s a director with violence in his past at the helm.  I’d agree if you told me, “Savages had the same thing.”  Yes, but its preview looked just a little sexier, didn’t it?

And another thing…. what exactly does it TAKE to be an NC-17 film?  Along those lines, have a look at this great commentary from the LA Times –

http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/movies/moviesnow/la-et-mn-is-raunchy-rrated-ted-really-americas-favorite-family-film-20120705,0,4969914.story

And finally – boy, I’m really going nuts with this entry – have a look at this article from today’s Hollywood Reporter:

http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/rotten-tomatoes-dark-knight-rises-351124

I’m struggling to understand and appreciate the thinking of someone who posts such inappropriate material (death threats and the like) related to a movie review.  I love movies, I think you can tell that.  I get pretty adamant about them.  In fact, many of my pals could tell you how I even make movie lists for them.  I want to see the new Batman, you want to see the final chapter of this series, but let’s keep it together, shall we?

Zombies Vs. Strippers (2012)
Dir: Alex Nicolaou
Stars: Circus-Szalewski, Eve Mauro, Brittany Gael Vaughn, Adam Brooks, Brad Potts and Adriana Sephora

I don’t mind admitting that in high school, after particularly grueling weeks of study towards inevitable exams, my pals and I would sometimes have veg nights.  These evenings featured one of us driving the others to Blockbuster and immediately spreading out individually amongst the thousands of titles.  About ten minutes later, we would reconvene in the checkout line.  Would we watch my pick, Bloodfist 4, or perhaps MH’s pick, Cannibal Women in the Avocado Jungle of Death?  Or perhaps we were in the mood for Leprechaun: Back in the ‘Hood, which JF had found (see note 1).  My point is that we would each try to find the most absolutely obscure title in the store, take it home and watch it with some LaRosa’s Pizza (miss you, LaRosa’s!) and then either quote the film throughout the following week or imitate the most ridiculous scene.  One of our favorite scenes involved a villain getting hit with a pole, and then obviously throwing a large chunk of matter away from his face in shadow to make it appear the strike from the pole really had taken its toll.  Sigh.

I was reminded of these high school movie nights as I watched just the first several minutes of Zombies vs. Strippers, which is a phenomenal B-movie.  As you may have guessed from its honest title, this is a film about a downtown L.A. strip club run by Spider (Circus-Szalewski), which is attacked by a horde of zombies.  In the first several minutes, we are given several “subtle” hints that there might be a problem.  The radio DJ refers to people going crazy in the streets, “and the Lakers aren’t even in town!”  On his way in the Tough Titty – that’s the name of the strip bar, of course – the parking lot bum tells the owner, Spider, that he’d like some money because “people are eating each other these days,” and he doesn’t want to be one of them.  Once in the bar, we see one of Spider’s strippers named Bambi performing for a couple of zombies, and she’s really having a tough time getting a reaction out of them.

Spider is a main character with all sorts of problems.  I mean, as the owner of a failing business, he’s got sassy employees like Sugar (Eve Mauro) and Vanilla (Brittany Gael Vaughn, definitely reminiscent of some of Pam Grier’s roles in the ‘70s), he’s got a terrible DJ who’s incessantly high, he’s got a terrible bouncer who can’t keep the zombies out, and he must decide whether or not to cut his losses and sell the bar.  Aside from all of these issues, Spider’s one hero is a guy named Hambo who has one of those TV shows that no one watches.  Of all the plot elements set up in “Act One,” I thought the resolution to the Hambo introduction was the most satisfying.

So, in the end, did I like Zombies vs. Strippers?  Absolutely!  How could I like such a title, you ask?  Well, there are two basic reasons.  First and foremost, it’s a movie that’s honest about what it is.  Have you seen the trailer?

Zombies Vs. Strippers Trailer

From the preview, this film promises some classic “T&A,” a little action and some laughs as well.  Does it deliver?  It delivers 100% of what it advertises, which is more than I can say for some titles today.  If I’ve used this example already, please pardon me, but in February of this year, I had a colleague tell me she was leaving work early on Friday to go see the latest romantic comedy in theaters.  She’d been looking forward to this title for months having seen the preview.  It starred one of her “faves” and she and her pals were having a girls night.  All she wanted was a nice, drippy love story properly presented: that’s all she required for her $12 investment.  However, when I asked her on Monday how her big movie was, she got this awful look on her face like she’d just smelled something that went rotten in her frig and yelled, “It was TERRIBLE!  I wanted to walk out!”  With Zombies Vs. Strippers, at least you can say that there is no debate about its truth in advertising.

But the other reason I actually liked the film was the supporting characters and how funny they were.  I’ll give a couple of examples.  Early in the movie, the big bouncer flanks Spider as he confronts the two zombies watching Bambi.  One of the zombies grabs his zombie buddy’s hand and bites several fingers off of it.  I’ll give you a minute to let that sink in.  OK, then Spider screams at the zombie, “Oh my God, what have you been drinking?” and not missing a beat, the bouncer says to Spider, “I don’t think these guys need anything more to drink, boss.”  Later in the film, the bouncer has been bitten by one of the zombies and one of the less than brilliant strippers, Jasmine, has generously offered to make their last night on earth a memorable one.  As she’s giving him a lap dance, she asks the bouncer what he likes about her.  Well, by now he’s fully turned into a zombie and thus says, “Brains.”  Jasmine’s response is, “That’s like, the sweetest thing a guy has ever said to me.”

I can’t believe I’ve gotten this far into this post without mentioning Red Wings, which is one of the bikers that enters the bar about midway through the film.  Talk about a survivor.  He’s been learning how to “keep [the zombies] down” and doesn’t even stop to wipe the blood off his face after surviving a particularly difficult attack.  This guy’s lines were absolutely priceless.  As an example, when he hears the record player start up again (by now it’s been established that zombies are attracted to the DJ’s awful music, so they have turned the music off), he frowns and slowly says, “I thought we put an end to that cacophony.”  In the tradition of ‘70s and ‘80s exploitation horror films – not to mention the more recent Tarantino & Rodriguez productions – good ol’ Red Wings really fit in.

In the end, would I recommend this film?  Only to one guy.  You know who you are.  You’re the guy with no girlfriend, who’s a little buzzed from the bars, sitting on his couch at 1am next Saturday night flipping through his VOD or pay-per-view menu.  Bro, let me tell you, if it’s a choice between Zombie Vs. Strippers for a flat $4.99 and some other film in your DVD collection that you’ve seen 18 times, I think you’d do much better with ZvS!  I mean, wouldn’t you love to tell your pals at work on Monday, “I watched Zombies Vs. Strippers this weekend.”

Note 1: I humbly admit that I’ve seen all three of these titles.  Seriously.

Koyaanisqatsi (1983)
*** Burke Favorite ***
Dir: Godfrey Reggio, Prod: Francis Ford Coppola

You can’t pronounce it, I can’t pronounce it, but who cares?

I figured since this is my 101st post, we should do something a little avant guard, right?  So, let’s talk about silent films for a moment.  After all, that’s how the entire medium started.  Being a proud film geek, I actually got the early Edison films from Netflix: there’s a great package of seven or eight discs with film historians discussing the significance of the films, many of which are shot behind a little warehouse.  The warehouse was actually Edison’s building where he would host boxers, gymnasts and other folks who could do impressive, Olympic-type movements for the camera.  The films are grainy and skip a bunch, but what you’re really watching is the infancy of an art medium – it’s really worth a watch!  However, the thing about the films was they were simply tests.  Just like any other scientist tests their new finding, Edison was testing the films and needed some subject matter to move in front of his camera.  Sure, there was a simple piano score with most of the films I watched on this disc, but this was laid in much later for the DVD.

Moving on to some of the Russian experiments with film, I can’t remember who it was (Eisenstein? Pudovkin?) that tested montage simply with a few assorted moving images.  One of the films tested an audience member’s reaction to moving images like they were conducting the Pavlov’s dog test.  Imagine an image of a crowd milling about, then a close up of a guy with no expression on his face.   We go back to the crowed and other street scenes and then back to the guy and then suddenly to a bowl of something to eat.  The cuts between regular life, the guy and the bowl of food continued for just a couple minutes before the experimenter asked the viewer what they thought.  Many viewers thought the guy was hungry.  Where am I going with this?  We, as people, like to assign a story to images.  Think of the last time you went to the museum and saw one of the French Impressionist’s scenes at a table or in a park: don’t you want to know what was going on between those people?  Anyhow, the Russian experiment in montage demonstrated that certain images, assembled together might tell a story.  I guess I’m just trying to give a little credit to the early film pioneers who actually developed ways of telling stories with moving images that we take for granted today?  Sorry – didn’t intend for this post to go sideways with all this film history, here….

Anyhow, Godfrey Reggio’s Koyaanisqatsi is a demonstration of how powerful a bunch of moving images – along with an intense and intended film score – can actually be.  There is no story, really; it’s just film art, if you will.  Should you have the chance to see this movie, I really think it’ll show you how vast the cinema experience can vary.  What I mean is, while the box office boils over this year with superheros and stories of heroine archers dismantling distopian futures, you might take the opportunity to watch a film like Koyaanisqatsi as counter-programming.  I’m not saying The Avengers and The Hunger Games (amongst the other big hits of this year) are wrong in some way.  I’m really not saying that at all!  And for the record, I rather liked Hunger Games…  But, I’ll bet you agree that Koyaanisqatsi, a film set to Philip Glass’ score, is kind of like heading to the museum for an afternoon.

The film begins with various images of grandiose landscapes.  From the Grand Canyon to the Badlands, deserts and oceans are all shot in long takes, majestic and phenomenally simple.  Then, it’s as if the film is saying, “ruh roh – here comes Man.”  A shot of an earth mover, another of a NASA rocket firing away and more of tall buildings in unrecognizable metropolises gave me the feeling that much of the film was going to be consumed with some sort of environmental message.  But then, when I watched the piece in its entirety, I noticed that wasn’t really the case.  For me at least, I saw a similarity in how the ocean’s water flowed and how the heatwaves on the tarmac ripple.  I saw an almost uncanny relation between how the wind makes grooves in the desert and how there are other grooves in the sides of man-made buildings.  There are other examples, but the imagery convinced me that there’s a certain comfort with how we humans have settled into our earthly environment.

The film’s title is from the Hopi language and loosely translated as, “Life out of balance.”  So, the film maker is obviously making a statement with his melding of intense images and overwhelming score that we’re (people) making a negative effect on ol’ Mother Earth.  However, I appreciate and insist that Reggio actually leaves it up to you the viewer to decide what the presentation means.   If any of you have seen it, I’d love to get your take on the last scene with the rocket.  I remembered that sequence specifically from the first time I saw the film: I remember it actually upset me.  But, what I forgot is that the film cuts back to the first image, of the people drawn on the cave wall.  I guess what I’m saying is, the film didn’t have the depressing end I thought it did.

Psycho (1960)
*** Burke Favorite ***
Dir: Alfred Hitchcock
Stars: Anthony Perkins, Janet Leigh, John Gavin, Vera Miles and Martin Balsam

*** Welcome to the 100th post of ronhamprod.com: many thanks for reading the numerous entries we’ve posted over the past two years! We look forward to many more posts as the site continues to grow…  ***

I watched Psycho a few weeks ago on my new home theater system and thought to myself, this would really make a swell 100th post.  I took careful notes and rewound a few scenes as I went in preparation, too!  Let me be clear, though: if you haven’t seen this film, do yourself a favor and bump it to the top of your Netflix cue.  It’s on the AFI top 100 for good reason and I talk about plenty of revealing items in the pages to follow.  That said, get a glass of wine or a cup of coffee or whatever’s your pleasure and get comfy… let’s talk some Psycho.

I certainly won’t forget the first time I saw this movie in my basement at home as a teenager: sure, I was shocked by the shower scene, but I was floored by the conclusion.  Regardless, my overall theory after this latest viewing is that it’s the seemingly everyday elements surrounding the infamous shower scene and “mom” revealing that make your hair stand on edge.   It’s a classic not only because of the great scenes and the memorable music, but also because of the mood Hitchcock creates starting with the mundane act of living and extending to something we can all relate to – how we feel when we’ve done something wrong.

The film opens on a December afternoon in Phoenix, Arizona.  The camera takes its time as it pans the city, super-imposes the date and time and finds an ordinary looking hotel.  One of the hotel windows is open and we end up entering the room – we’re putting our nose in other people’s business from the beginning.  In this room, we find Marion Crane (Janet Leigh) and her lover, Sam Loomis (John Gavin), enjoying a little post-afternoon delight.  That’s the first thing you notice about a Hitchcock film: he appreciates your maturity.  He doesn’t find it necessary to go all Basic Instinct on us and show gratuitous sex: not that the censors would have tolerated such a scene at the time, anyhow.  Sam and Marion are not married, but they’re sneaking around and sleeping with each other in a hotel in the middle of the afternoon.  It’s a subtle thing Hitchcock achieves even in this first scene: perhaps it’s me looking into something that isn’t there, but there’s one shot of Marion in profile – like a mug shot – that helps convey a feeling of uneasiness right from the start (see Note 1).  There’s also the comment from Sam, as he suggests they meet at Marion’s place next time and turn her Mom’s picture around if it makes her uncomfortable.  Her reaction to this comment is kind of funny: she’s totally willing to sleep around with this guy, but talking about Mom’s photo crosses the line!  And yet, look at what this dialogue does to the story – it illustrates to us that Marion has a line.  Regardless, before Marion hustles back to work on this hot afternoon, they agree they’re going to get married as soon as Sam’s divorce is finalized, even if they have to share a crummy room above the hardware store where he works in Fairview, CA.

Back at the office, the boss has just closed a deal with a cattle baron who wants to give his daughter and her new husband a house as their wedding gift.  As if this isn’t outrageous enough, the tipsy client insists on paying cash before having another swig from the bottle in the boss’ office!  The boss, completely trusting Marion, gives her the $40,000 cash to deposit in the bank.  Their understanding is she’s going to deposit the funds and then head straight home to rest from her headache. Is it just me reading into things too much again, or is that painting behind Marion of a country road a tremendous visual foreshadowing?

Yep, Marion heads home all right – to pack!  She’s got her little valise stuffed to the top with her clothes, and the envelope with $40,000 sits right next to it.  Oh, no you didn’t, girl!  This is sweet, kind, beautiful little Marion, right?  And yet, why are we surprised?  The story was pretty clear about her intentions with the first scene.  She’s still the one who was pacing the hotel room in her spotless white under-things, who got angry at Sam for the quip about Mom’s picture.  In the next scene, Marion is in her car on a crowded Phoenix street, literally leaving town (see Note Z).  She’s parked at a busy intersection and who walks by and smiles at her but her boss!  Then, he does a double take and continues on.  Now, she’s jumpy.  She frets.  Marion furrows her lovely brow: again, which of us hasn’t been here?  Who amongst us hasn’t called in “sick” (I’m talking to you, March Madness viewers) and then worried what would happen if the boss actually caught us?

As Marion travels north to Fairview, CA, darkness soon falls on the highway and she pulls over to take a nap.  The next morning, a state trooper (in a delightfully retro car, by the way) stops and gives her a knock, waking her up.  Some of you may know this, but for those of you who don’t, this was for Hitchcock himself one of the scariest moments in the picture: it turns out ol’ Hitch never got himself a driver’s license merely because he was terrified of being pulled over and getting a ticket!  In this scene, Marion is behaving a little odd, so the trooper asks for her license.  She has to do a nice little shift of her shoulder to hide the envelope loaded with $40K.  After a few more questions, the officer lets Marion go and she’s headed down the road to Fairview again.

If we can all agree that Marion is a character we can relate to, then I assume we can also agree that we’ve all had the flitter in our guliver when we see the cop in our rear view mirror.  Here, the film cuts between the distinctive highway patrol car in the rear view and Marion’s anxious eyes watching it.  Much to Marion’s relief, the patrol car soon disappears from the highway on an off ramp.  But, when she shows up at a used car lot in the next town and attempts to switch out her car for another vehicle, she notices the patrolman parked across the street, his arms crossed and stare directed towards her.  Again, I think these scenes are worth a second look because we’ve been there: we may not have been attacked in a shower by a killer, but we have had our scary moments with the law.  Some of us have been in that hotel room with our own Sam or Marion.  Others of us can relate to how she felt looking at the boss crossing the intersection.  Don’t these scenes set us on edge before we even get to the “meat of the sandwich?”

Thinking about the remainder of Marion’s journey towards Fairview is also worth a note or two.  Using an elegant combination of sight and sound, Marion’s thoughts are presented to us as we cut back and forth from her staring right at us to the rain soaked highway.  Voice overs from the boss, her work colleague and her sister discuss her disappearance with the client’s $40,000.  Again, who amongst us hasn’t asked, “What would they say if they found out [xyz] about me?”  One of the bits that I had to rewind and watch again was Marion’s face, her expression when she thinks about what the client says!  Isn’t this her “going a little crazy sometimes?” as Norman Bates says later.  I don’t mean to belabor this point, but I think it’s actually Psycho‘s Act One that scares us – because we’ve behaved like Marion before in one way or another…  The threat of being caught is a lot of stress to live with, and would have been a completely appropriate direction to take for Acts Two and Three… but here’s where main course is served.

The rain pelts Marion’s new car and she’s clearly not comfortable continuing her journey.  The sound of the rain and the musical score accompanying her thoughts as she drives has been almost climactic, which is highlighted by her arrival at the Bates Motel.  I was interested to observe that when she gets out of the car and looks for the motel manager, there is no sound at all, except for the rain.  It’s as if the film is respecting our intelligence and saying this sinister hotel is scary enough without an obvious soundtrack added.  And perhaps the place isn’t so bad after all, based on the young, lanky, good looking manager.  At first glance, Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins) seems downright goofy.  He’s got his hands in his pockets.  He seems a little intimidated by Marion’s beauty.  He repeats himself, as some of us do when we’re nervous.  And his grin is warm and innocent.  He is not… threatening.

As Bates is checking Marion in, I was interested to note that she’s within 15 miles of her destination, but opts not to continue.  She unpacks a bit and stuffs the envelope with the money in a copy of the LA Times, placing it carefully on the nightstand.  Then, Norman and Marion have a bite to eat in the parlor, right off the motel office.  Norman explains his hobby is taxidermy in reference to the huge, swooping stuffed birds on the walls of the parlor.  The lighting used gives the effect that these birds are hunting in a wooded area (maybe I’m over-thinking the wood paneling on the walls).  It’s as if the characters’ discussion, about people locking themselves in their own little cages fits the setting perfectly.  The conclusion of the scene concerns Marion’s admission that she’ll be leaving before dawn the next day and retracing her steps to Arizona.  She even gives Norman her real name, which he checks against the false name and address she gave when she filled in the register.

And then something extremely creepy happens.  Norman goes back in the parlor, presumably to take back the tray of sandwiches and milk.  But then, he stands in the middle of the room and stares at a picture hanging on the wall.  He agonizes for a few seconds, then crosses to the picture, removes it and reveals a hole in the wall.  In one of my favorite shots, there is a close up of Norman’s eye on the left side of the screen, bathed in light from Marion’s room coming from the right side of the screen.  This might be one of my favorite shots in all the movies I’ve ever seen.  I’m not trying to be dramatic.  But, really, isn’t Norman’s peeking what we’ve all been doing since Theatre was invented?  I think this shot kind of defines the essence of the movie experience.

Instead of going over the details of the shower scene – for there is plenty of analysis available on that little piece of cinema history from much more reputable sources than myself – I only want to mention that it pretty much proves that movies are a blend of sight AND sound.  Try watching that scene on mute: it’s like watching Star Wars or Die Hard without sound!  Instead, I’d rather take a look at the aftermath of the murder in the shower.  We hear Bates reacting to his Mom’s actions up at the house.  He comes tearing down the hill and into Marion’s room and covers his mouth from the shock – probably reflecting what many of us did the first time we saw the film.  Then, with no soundtrack to remind us how tense we feel (because it’s not necessary), we watch Bates clean up the mess.  All the blood is mopped down the drain (shiver).  All of Marion’s things go in the trunk of her car.  He checks the drawers – yep, got everything.  Wait a minute.  What about that copy of LA Times over there?  I love the fact that Bates tosses the paper in the trunk like it’s just a newspaper: because even the $40K inside is just paper!  Sure, it was important to Marion earlier today, but now…

Did you ask yourself, “What about the money?” towards the end of Bates’ cleaning of the room?  Again, it’s like the production is judging us as we’ve just witnessed a murder of someone we’ve come to know and maybe root for, and yet we can’t help ourselves from wondering, “What about the newspaper he just tossed in the trunk – what’s going to happen to THAT?!?”  As if this reaction to the cash isn’t enough, the next scene does the same thing to us.  Bates rolls Marion’s car around the back to a little bog behind the motel.  He gets out, slides it in neutral and pushes it in: and the bloody thing stops sinking!  Now, Bates, who I believe is chewing his fingernails, stops dead.  But let me ask you this – did you stop, too?  Did you kind of want it to sink?  Based on this scene with the car eventually sinking into the bog, I think that Hitchcock was 100% accurate when he told Billy Wilder in an interview that he “played the audience like a piano,” with Psycho.  I know he played me like a church organ…

One bit of criticism related to Psycho relates to the final scene with the psychiatrist (Simon Oakland) attempting to explain Norman’s behavior and how he’s come to use his deceased mom as a coping mechanism.  I didn’t find the scene that boorish: but I’ll admit that it does come across a little dated.  I’ll put it this way – if the film has a weakness, it is this scene, which seems somehow out of place.  How else would you have ended it, though?  After all, the last frame isn’t the psychiatrist at all.  We cut from his discussion to Norman wrapped up in a blanket in a holding cell.  He doesn’t say anything: “mother” is speaking for him at this point.  But do yourself a favor and go frame by frame as we dissolve from his gaze to that final shot of Marion’s car getting dragged out of the bog: see anything?

In closing, let’s switch focus to another theme of the film that makes the whole experience creepy: whether it’s Psycho or any other film in the Horror of Thriller/Suspense genres, there is a focus on death itself.  I know, I know – why don’t I get a little more serious, right?  But remember, I’m trying to say that it’s the other elements outside of the shower scene and the mom angle that make this film so effective.  Think about how several characters in the film are going about their “normal,” seemingly everyday lives when moments later, they’re dead.  Marion is just taking a shower, getting ready for bed and hoping to get a decent night’s sleep before taking responsibility for her actions and heading back to Phoenix.  She had no clue that sandwiches made by Norman Bates would be her last meal on earth.  Poor Arbogast, the private detective hired by the millionaire from Phoenix to find his missing $40K, is working on another typical, run-of-the-mill, boring missing person’s case.  He heads into an old house on top of a hill to speak with a sick old lady, and before you know it he’s falling head over heels down the steps from a stab wound.  He had no idea whatsoever that his call to Marion’s sister, Lila, would be his last telephone call ever.  Even Lila comes pretty close to getting it.  This idea of how narrow the line is between life and death is absolutely terrifying – and yet, it’s something we all think about from time to time.

Note X: It’s also astounding to me how the film seems dated – and yet timeless.  The hotel might look a little different, but there are still Marions and Sams out there doing the same thing.  In other words, Psycho’s core is a relate-able subject, that we all have fears and secrets we live with on a daily basis.

Note Z: I can’t remember, but is this when we see Hitchcock himself?  I know he was infamously known for inserting himself in his films – my favorite was North by Northwest – but I can’t recall where he shows up in Psycho…

419 (2012)
Dir: Ned Thorne
Stars: Mike Ivers, Scott Kerns, Ned Thorne, Emilea Wilson, Cara Loften, Ezra Mabengeza

419 – Official Site

419 – Facebook

I have a friend who went on a mission trip with her church to Mamelodi, South Africa.    They were there for maybe ten days or two weeks, and one of the days she and her group were leaving a neighborhood where they’d just done some work.  The group was about to head back to the hotel, and my friend saw this little boy who looked really hungry and kind of sad.  She started to walk down the street towards him, away from the group when one of the trip coordinators grabbed her arm and said, “Please don’t go down there.  You should probably stay close to the group.”  Only then did it dawn on my friend that she was indeed in an unfamiliar country, not to mention a rough neighborhood.  She felt scared.   Maybe it’s because the story is set in Cape Town, South Africa, but my friend’s Mamelodi story came to the front of my mind as I watched the found footage documentary, 419.  I thought, “How awful would it have been if she just hadn’t come back?”

I think we can all identify with this feeling, right?  Those moments as you take the wrong street as you’re walking home from the bar, or after leaving the stadium or wherever it might have been, or when you find yourself lost in a foreign country: your heart kind of jumps up in your throat and you feel on edge, as if your whole body is deciding on the answer to the evolutionary question, “Do I fight or flee?”   This feeling, which we can all relate to, is a tremendous building block for a film.  Supplemented with an impressive journey from New York to Cape Town, with the purpose of finding and confronting a con man who relieved one of the film maker’s best friend of more than $30,000, 419 is a film with a solid premise, which doesn’t disappoint.

The film begins as the better found-footage stories do, with the admission that what we’re about to see is “true” and that it’s been edited together (see note 1).  Within the first few minutes, we’re told that   Mike, an actor and bartender living in New York, went to Cape Town, South Africa recently for a commercial shoot.  There, he was befriended by a man named Ezra, who introduced him to another man, Lebogang.  They had some good times and then Mike headed back to New York, only to receive some pretty convincing e-mails from Lebogang.  It seems Mike was the victim of an international scam known as the Nigerian 419, which is a reference to the country’s penal code.  Long story short – Mike received a wire of over $451,000 into his bank account that wasn’t truly his.  After he started spending some of it and the authorities found out, he was $30,000 in debt – and extremely pissed off.

Mike has resolved to travel back to Cape Town, confront this Lebogang and alert the authorities to the man’s scheme.  To help him in his quest, Mike’s friends Scott and Ned decide to come along.  Ned, a documentary film maker, will shoot the experience.  There is an added element established in “act one” as we meet these guys’ girlfriends.  Mike was with Emilea, but she’s now with Scott.  Ned is with Cara.  While Emilea seemed a bit shady (having dated two of the friends), Cara seemed like quite the supportive girlfriend throughout the film.  Regardless, the lover’s triangle is established in a scene in which the friends advise the girls that they’re about to leave on this trip. Emilea asks the question I had, “Why not just have the authorities handle it?”  While Mike tells the group that he’s serious about bringing Lebogang to justice, his buying shots for the group to celebrate the trip doesn’t exactly serve as a convincer.

What follows is an exciting travelogue to Cape Town, some fun camaraderie between the friends and some uneasy scenes concerning Mike’s friend and their guide, Ezra.  This native of Cape Town, who Mike had met on the commercial shoot, has agreed to help the group find Lebogang.  But it’s quickly established that Ezra is shady: he may say he’s an innocent guy just looking for a good time, but the gun he carries in his trousers supports the idea that he’s a hustler – and potentially violent.  I particularly relished a scene in which he helps Scott gain internet access in their hotel after one of the hotel managers literally closes a window in Scott’s face.  It’s amazing to me that Americans think the things we have at home – like running water and wireless internet access – work as well everywhere in the world!  In other words, there is an unwritten way of doing things that Ezra is trying to show the group.  He seems to want to help them find the guy that stole Mike’s money – but them chasing after people in unfamiliar neighborhoods, as they do in one scene, is not going to help.

Part of the reason 419 works so well is the authenticity achieved by the film.  What I mean is, when the gang attends a huge barbeque in one of the Cape Town neighborhoods, asking everyone they can if they’ve seen Lebogang, it looks legit!  The people caught on camera and the interviews they have – with the yellow subtitles below – all felt true.  In fact, the musical score layered against interviews with stateside characters like Scott’s Dad, Emilea and various law enforcement officials involved in the resulting case had that feeling of “60 Minutes” and not The Fourth Kind.  The fact that the trip goes horribly wrong for the friends is alluded to in the preview: but the way in which their troubles begin and end was both entertaining and terrifying.

I understand this is a documentary-found-footage genre film, but some scenes were difficult to hear: granted, that’s just my humble opinion and based on the advanced screening.  I feel like some of the climactic scenes might have stood out even better than they did had the sound design been consistent (in a theatrical sense) throughout the first hour of the film.  Put another way, I wanted to hear the characters and their interviews better in the first hour, but would have been totally fine in not being able to hear the events of the last third of the film.

One element that surprised me – and this wasn’t the only surprise – was that of the lover’s triangle.  I was frustrated by some of the screen time dedicated to Mike and Scott’s arguing over Emilea because I thought the story had moved in another direction.  Without giving anything away, I think it’s a tribute to Ned Thorne’s storytelling that the argument was indeed related to the outcome of their journey.  Regardless, 419 is an intense story with a relate-able theme presented in an entertaining way.   This film also had the maturity to not overdo it with the violence, which I think is a mistake that too many independent film makers make: let me put it this way, Mr. Thorne demonstrated the old saying that in scenes of violence, sometimes “less is more.”  The fact that 419 even includes a unique, yet believable twist – for lack of a better word – simply adds to the film’s sophistication.

NOTE 1: Perhaps it’s just me, but with found footage films, I’ve always preferred the ones like Catfish, which is very up front about the fact they have cut the footage together: it was found – and then bloody edited!  While I have to give credit to a film like The Blair Witch Project, which pioneered the modern era of this genre, I’ve never understood how that title doesn’t have a supporting story of the Detective investigating the crimes – and he or she cut the footage together.  Or like in a title like Cloverfield, there could have been a Defense Department group sitting in a room watching the footage and deciding what to do with the monster…. Just an idea!

NOTE 2: I thought the Cape Town thug named “Baby Face” imitating Al Pacino in Scarface was just about the funniest part of the film!