Déjà vu Dalliance

A movie about blood-sucking parasites... if you’re thinking I’m talking about lawyers, you’d be way off track today; Ticks have become creatures that haunt the backs of our minds as we enjoy our outdoor summer activities (fears of Lyme disease and meat allergies run rampant in articles found in newspapers and online), meaning the 1993 direct-to-video cult classic directed by Tony Randel is more pertinent than ever before. Following a group of lowly teens that are a part of a program run by Holly Lambert (Rosalind Allen) and Charles Danson (Peter Scolari), the shtupping pair bring kids from inner city Los Angeles out into nature as a form of therapy and group bonding (Holly is in charge of the former, while Charles studies the latter).

Back in the late 1970s, then first time co-writer/co-director Kathryn Bigelow, along with Monty Montgomery, were fortunate enough to have spotted one Willem Dafoe on the stage – a member of the Wooster Group experimental theater company. Asking him to be a part of their movie, it would also become the actor’s first credited role. That film would eventually be called The Loveless (1981)... prior to that, it was known as US 17 and Breakdown. Set in the 1950s and infused with a post-punk flair, the narrative follows Vance (Dafoe), an enigmatic nihilist with an intoxicating allure. A quiet biker wearing black leather and equally as dark Brylcreem’d back hair, he oozes an indifferent quality of danger and sexuality. Living on the edge of life (or perhaps more accurately, a knife), he’s the type of conundrum that stops to help a lady with a flat tire, only to nab a controversial kiss and then take the money from her wallet for payment as he departs... leaving her all shook up in more ways than one.

A most fitting tribute to the early days of the slasher film, writer/director Ti West’s X (2022), subtly pulls from Black Christmas, Halloween, while tossing in more liberal doses from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre to bring the sub-genre back from the shadowy fringes of death and into mainstream theatres (though you could argue that this one is better suited for a classic drive-in screening). Opening with a really clever shot that pays homage to the traditional boxy 4:3 aspect ratio of years past, it actually isn’t... just some visual trickery to place us in Texas, circa 1979. Rather bluntly teasing a bloody conclusion, we then flash back twenty-four hours to our sex-crazed protagonists.

One has to wonder if all cinematic taxidermists have been painted with the same brush since the release of Psycho all those years ago in 1960. Well, that theory will be put to the test in the 1977 giallo Crazy Desires of a Murderer, directed by Filippo Walter Ratti (though titled in the credits as Peter Rush – his seventeenth and final film making credit). Welcome to the slowly crumbling manor home of the Baron De Chablais (Stuart Brisbane Colin), the dilapidated location echoing the poor health of its aged owner. . . after two heart attacks, rampant dementia has attacked the brain, leaving this supposed psychic (oddly, this pre-credits reveal will never be followed up on) in very rough shape.

A deep dive into 60s Swinging London, or should I say ‘dream dive’, Edgar Wright follows up his 2017 hit Baby Driver with another film that gets its title from a song – Last Night in Soho (a 1967 single by Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mich & Tich – I know, quite the band name). Set in the present day, Eloise ‘Ellie’ Turner (Thomasin McKenzie – Jojo Rabbit) is a fragile, mousy young woman who has immersed herself in 60s culture... constantly listening to records of the time, her dream is to bring the swinging era’s fashion back. Leaving for fashion school in Soho, she is still haunted by her mother’s suicide – something that happened when she was just a young child (in fact, she sometimes sees her mother’s spirit in the mirror).

Fabled reverberations of distant past, a time when magic still filled the air... and men would quest to prove their knightly virtues, are brought to vivid life in writer/director David Lowery’s 2021 Arthurian era legend, The Green Knight. Almost ethereal in its nature – not due to some sort of fragility, but rather because it feels as if it is transcendent of this time... a wisp of lore echoing from distant past that ought be lost at the merest blink of an eye, it is akin to being transported back into a magic-tinged Medieval landscape. Lowery deserves much credit for brewing such a mythical auratic atmosphere. It is no easy feat being an Arthurian laureate, for you must know the earliest records dating back to Geoffrey of Monmouth in the twelfth century, through the long annals...