Voodoo, and Zombies, and Ghosts, Oh My

Could there be anything more embarrassing than being a mama’s boy? Well, there might just be – being a Grandma’s Boy (directed by Fred C. Newmeyer). Silent comic superstar Harold Lloyd’s second feature length film following 1921's A Sailor-Made Man, this 1922 offering, like its predecessor, spawned out of a smaller two-reel idea, growing into a richer, more in-depth narrative. Coming out a year after Charlie Chaplin’s seminal first full length feature, The Kid, the fellow comedic actor was enthralled by his so-called rival’s film – describing it as “one of the best constructed screenplays I have ever seen on the screen. . . The boy has a fine understanding of light and shape and that picture has given me a real artistic thrill and stimulated me to go ahead”.

Some things never change. . . and by that I mean true love. . . and by that I mean the love found between a newly rich older man and a much younger woman. . . case in point, 1937's 3 Dumb Clucks, directed by Del Lord – a Three Stooges classic. Larry (Larry Fine), Curly (Curly Howard) and Moe (Moe Howard) have found themselves in jail. . . watched over by a very simple and overly helpful Prison Guard (Frank Austin). Receiving a letter from their beloved mother, she asks her boys to escape their confines and help bring their father home to her. . . as he has made millions through the oil fields he owns and has taken up with a young blonde gold digger, Daisy (Lucille Lund).

Eighteen years before Scary Movie ruthlessly parodied countless horror tropes (leading to four sequels that varied from hilarious to unwatchable), there was an original spoof film that prodded at the intricacies of the horror genre, 1982's Wacko, directed by Greydon Clark. In a way comparable to Mel Brooks’ High Anxiety (I know what you’re thinking – how?), Brooks and his team fell into the trap of spending more time trying to honour and satirize Alfred Hitchcock’s motion pictures instead of forming a workably entertaining story. Similarly, the most fun you’ll have watching this disjointed effort is looking for the references to other horror movies – and less so the product as a whole.

Opening in a way only a Buster Keaton short film seems to be able to, an accidental confrontation between a mailman and the main character (leading to a letter, by chance, falling into the hands of the man, as well as a broken pane of glass as a result of the postal worker’s anger), followed by another clash between the always in the wrong place protagonist and a bullish woman – who assumes the diminutive man must have done the damage to the window. . . then throw in a Polish priest (who doesn’t speak English) making his own assumptions, and somehow, Keaton becomes Husband, and this woman, played by Kate Price, becomes Wife, in 1922's My Wife’s Relations, written and directed by both Buster Keaton and Edward F. Cline.

We often generalize that old movies are dated. . . and, in some ways, this is true. Sometimes dialogue, fashion, cinematography, and numerous other aspects of a production can come across as old fashioned, yet human beings don't evolve quickly, and a well written romance, drama, comedy, or satire is practically timeless. For an example not related to the film being reviewed today, Charlie Chaplin's cocaine joke from Modern Times (though closing in on 90 years old), is still as funny today as it once was. A satire as rich and relevant today as it was when it was released back in 1969, Putney Swope, written and directed by Robert Downey Sr. (yes, Iron Man's father), holds a comedic magnifying glass up to our present predicament in regards to race and business. Opening with a magnificent overhead shot of New York City, a rather shockingly dressed Southerner (motorcycle gang member meets redneck) arrives in the Big Apple to provide a consult for an executive board of directors of an advertising firm (a large group of middle to aged white men with a token black man - in charge of the music department).

What does it take to gather the perfect heist team? Judging from the movies we’ve all watched countless times before, I think that we have a pretty good idea of what it takes. Pulling from those same flicks and flipping them on their head for comedic effect, The Heist (2017), directed by Luke Harris, is a four minute short film with slick style, visual flair, and high-octane pacing. Riffing off of the Ocean 11's and Guy Ritchie’s of the world, The Heist finds two handsomely good looking guys, Leo (Shaw Jones) and Pete (Shawn Parsons), pitching an aging mobster, Pauly (Steven Wishnoff) – who is relaxing in a bathrobe, no less, on their plan for the perfect heist, by a lavish swimming pool. . . in what sounds more like a producer’s pitch meeting. Amplifying the stakes of even the most outlandish of the genre (and that is saying something), the pair then start listing their team for this hesitant moneyman (of course, done in a brisk montage style) – from the talented getaway driver and explosive’s expert with a self referential nickname, to the black guy with a cockney accent and “the bad ass who just got his ass kicked but still has the guts to say, ‘Is that the best you got?’”. . . I think you get where they’re going with this gag-filled extravaganza.