The front door to an apartment swings open... an unseen figure walks through the living area and approaches a beautiful blonde woman wearing a robe as she walks around the bathroom... he then deliberately empties the barrel of his revolver into her – this is the jarring cold opening to the film noir Illegal (1955), and one thing is for sure, it knows how to grab your attention. Funnily enough, this was the third adaptation of the 1929 play “The Mouthpiece” by Frank J. Collins, following Mouthpiece (1932) and The Man Who Talked Too Much (1940) – and they say movies are remade too much today. Flash to Victor Scott (Edward G. Robinson), a district attorney who is wise to all the angles and is graced with a silver tongue. With an unyielding desire to win (he got it from growing up and fighting his way out of the slums), he argues every case like it is his last.
For those of you who have seen (or will be seeing) James Wan’s new horror movie Malignant (2021), I think you’ll understand when I say I am of two mindsets when it comes to the entire piece. It has been five years since Wan has directed a film within the horror genre he has helped resurrect ‘from the dead’ – which might be a bit excessive, and Malignant might be his most divisive. Less scary and more ‘slashy’ than his more recent franchises of The Conjuring and Insidious, it carries with it a bizarre tone. . . part semi-traditional bloody horror film, part CSI melodrama (or is it spoof) – we are never quite sure if it is supposed to be tongue in cheek or taken seriously.
What do you get when you hand The Suicide Squad reins over (with carte blanche, I might add) to James Gunn.? .? .? an R rated, Guardians of the Galaxy-like extravaganza that dusts curse-laden comedy over the somber DC verse, throwing pails of blood (and even a few blink and you’ll miss it pieces of male and female anatomy) at the screen to wash away its predecessor’s flat formula. Going ‘out-there’, and that’s saying something for this type of feature, Gunn’s gonzo, go-for-broke style finds intelligence spook Amanda Waller (Viola Davis) sending two teams, or should I say squads, of suiciders onto the island of Corto Maltese – a country that has just seen a coup take out their leader, replaced by a non-American ally. Wave one finds Colonel Rick Flag (Joel Kinnaman); daddy’s lil monster Harley Quinn (Margot Robbie); Captain Boomerang (Jai Courtney); long haired Savant (Michael Rooker); piecemeal T.D.K. (Nathan Fillion); Blackguard (Pete Davidson); a javelin carrying guy who is aptly named Javelin (Flula Borg); and, without further ado, a human-flesh loving walking Weasel (Sean Gunn – he also makes a cameo as prisoner Calendar Man).
Picking up several years after the original feature, Don’t Breathe 2 (2021) flips the script, with co-writers Fede Alvarez and Rodo Sayagues (though this time the latter takes over directing duties), placing the audience in the shoes of The Blind Man (rather than those who attempted to rob him in the genesis film). . . following him into a most intense scenario. In a wild, bold, and arguably controversial maneuver, Alvarez and Sayagues attempt to transform the sinister former veteran from the previous movie into something akin to an anti-hero – within the narrative, themes of rebirth and redemption can be found. Now a ‘father’ to his ‘daughter’, Phoenix – no subtlety there (Madelyn Grace), The Blind Man is now humanized with a real name, Norman Nordstrom (Stephen Lang). No spoilers on her backstory.
Ah, the summer rental. . . a long held tradition that holds within it the unique ability to escape the intense grind of day to day life, allowing renters to find peace and quiet, comfort, family bonding, with some oft beautiful site-seeing along the way. But sadly, this isn’t always how it turns out. . . case in point, 1976's Burnt Offerings, co-written and directed by Dan Curtis (based on the novel of the same name by Robert Marasco). The Rolf’s, author Ben (Oliver Reed), his wife Marian (Karen Black), their tween son David (Lee Montgomery), and Ben’s artsy aunt, Elizabeth (Bette Davis), are fortunate enough to have found a stunning (if dilapidated) 19th century mansion to rent for the all-too-good price of nine hundred dollars – yes, for the entire summer! The only caveat that is added by owners Arnold and Roz Allardyce (Burgess Meredith and Eileen Heckart), is that their elderly private mother, who is in her mid eighties, is going to stay in her attic flat. . . and it will be their job to bring her a tray of food for each meal (though due to her reclusive state, they are required to leave the food outside her door).
Opening at the 1932 Los Angeles Summer Olympics (an actual newsreel from the event), 1934's Search for Beauty, directed by Erle C. Kenton (Island of Lost Souls; The Ghost of Frankenstein), is a sharply written and unbelievably edgy drama that would not have passed code just a few short months later (once the Motion Picture Production Code, also known as the Hays Code, came into effect). A clash between immorality and a sort of athletic purity, two ex-cons, Larry Williams (Robert Armstrong) and Jean Strange (Gertrude Michael), newly released from prison, quickly come up with a new cash friendly scheme. Teaming with their money-man, Dan Healy (James Gleason), they plan on purchasing a ‘Health and Exercise’ magazine (and a ramshackle hotel that comes with it), turning it into a pre-Playboy rag magazine full of sultry stories and lurid photographs.
Building upon ages of vampiric lore whilst finding its own creative place in a lengthy fang toothed oeuvre, Spain’s Count Dracula’s Great Love (1973), co-written and directed by Javier Aguirre, aims for fusing sensuality and sensitivity with a mesmeric gothic atmosphere. . . and let’s not forget some 70s era gore (for good measure). Following a group of four women: Senta (Rosanna Yanni), Karen (Haydée Politoff), Elke (Mirta Miller), and Marlene (Ingrid Garbo), and a male friend, Imre Polvi (Víctor Barrera), they are unfortunate enough to have carriage trouble whilst traveling through the Carpathian Mountains (though, at least, the women all seem to have a ridiculous amount of lingerie – priorities, right?).