The Fall and Rise of Babylon

How can one define ‘raw’ music? That elusive energy that record executive Richie Finestra was desperately looking for in the sadly short-lived HBO series Vinyl. . . it can be found in the first few seconds of the MC5's “Kick Out the Jams” – the listener immediately learning that they are trying to melt your face right off; or in Jimi Hendrix’s reworking of Bob Dylan’s “All Along the Watchtower” – his inventive, inspirational guitar work seeping into your very bloodstream; anarchy can literally be felt in every single note of The Sex Pistols; while Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit” emits a primordial energy that never lets you go. Truly transcendent, it transports you to a different plane of existence. . . a confounding place which finds vexing combinations of pure natural energy diluted with sex and drugs, innocence clashing with the realization that life isn’t fair – it is like living in the gutter of heaven itself. . . still perfection (after all, it is heaven), yet in a way you couldn’t imagine possible in such a place. A combination of youthful exuberance and unbridled energy that captures lightning in a bottle, that raw sound is not something that can be sustained. Coming from a creative and energetic place when youth meets adulthood, where simplicity combines with complexity, two things inevitably happen – you either evolve into something more refined and mainstream, or you burn out/die. An excellent example of this lengthy definition, 2010's The Runaways, written and directed by Floria Sigismondi, depicts the short lived run of the titular band.

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).

The essence of Rambo meeting the good-hearted 'save the community' nature of Billy Jack set within the arena of B movie western style silliness can be found in 1985's Savage Dawn, a little seen wild experience from director Simon Nuchtern. As the hot desert sun roasts the sandy arid landscape of back roads Texas, one motorcycle driving man, aptly named Stryker (Lance Henriksen, never looking more threatening - if that's possible), a speak softly and carry a big stick Vietnam vet drifter with no home, makes his way to the closest thing to it. . . the dying town of Aqua Dulce (an ironic name, as there is no water left in the community). Water once helped the gold mine locale thrive, but now it, and its people, are struggling to survive. It is here that he finds his only true friend, wheelchair bound Tick Rand (George Kennedy) - another former vet with a MacGyver-like ability to fashion deadly weapons out of anything at hand. He also gets reacquainted with Tick's two children, Danny (Michael Sharrett) and Katie (Claudia Udy) - who clearly has a thing for the strong silent type.

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.

For whatever reason, people are obsessed with love and relationships – celebrity couples, The Bachelor (and its female counterpart), Rock of Love, Love Island. . . the list goes on and on. Then there are those nosey questions from family members – ‘Any prospective dates?’, ‘Are you seeing anyone special?’, ‘What happened to that nice girl you were dating last year?’, ‘When are you going to get married?’. . . as if you can’t be happy unless you are paired with someone. Based on this assumption, Yorgos Lanthimos creates a most fascinating vision of this very world of love and relationships with his 2015 film The Lobster. An absurdist dystopic vision set in a rather similar world to today, Lanthimos (along with his writing partner Efthimis Filippou) set out very strict rules for this alternate reality. In a landscape where everyone must be paired together, those who lose a partner (either to death or separation), are sent to a high end resort – where they have only forty-five days to find a suitable partner to continue their lives. If, for whatever reason, they cannot find someone, they are turned into an animal of their choosing (bonus!).

It is likely that, if you were able to transplant The Losers release date from 2010 to 2020, the film would be a major hit (sadly, in 2010 it was not). A comic book movie that perfectly combines high octane action with liberal doses of comedy, it starred Jeffrey Dean Morgan (a superb character actor both before and after this film – including memorable stints on television series like Supernatural and The Walking Dead, as well as films like Watchmen and Rampage), Chris Evans (just one year before he really took off with his role as Captain America), Idris Elba (just as he was exploding on the scene with his excellent BBC series Luther – he would also make his Marvel debut the next year as Heimdall in the Thor films), and Zoe Saldana (a year after her breakthrough role in Avatar, she has exploded into superstardom by playing Uhura in the Star Trek franchise and Gamora in the Guardians of the Galaxy Marvel movies), it would be damn near impossible to unite a cast like this again without a hundred million dollar plus budget (for your information, this film had a twenty-five million dollar budget). Following a CIA special forces unit, their leader is Lieutenant Colonel Franklin Clay (Morgan) – a man who looks like a 60s sex symbol (bespoke suit, no tie, three buttons undone, chest hair flowing); his best friend, explosives expert Captain William Rogue (Elba) – who is an aptly named moody wildcard; intelligence expert and computer whiz Captain Jake Jensen (Evans) – a constant kidder who thinks he is cooler than he actually is; their eyes and ears, Sergeant Linwood “Pooch” Porteous (Columbus Short); and sniper Sergeant Carlos “Cougar” Alvarez (Óscar Jaenada) – the strong and silent type.