A film noir with some eccentricities, The Big Steal (1949), directed by then third time film maker Don Siegel (who would go on to make such greats as Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Dirty Harry, and Escape from Alcatraz), plays like a long chase within a longer chase, while the meeting between gent and femme is something akin to a will they/won’t they screwball comedy. The usually laconic Lt. Duke Halliday (Robert Mitchum) is in quite the conundrum, as he has been robbed of a U.S. Army payroll totaling a whopping three hundred grand by swindler Jim Fiske (Patric Knowles). On the lam in Mexico (a rather rare noir location, also think Ride the Pink Horse and Touch of Evil), Halliday is on his trail... but the problem is, so is his superior – Captain Vincent Blake (William Bendix), who, of course, thinks it was actually the Lieutenant who ran off with the money.
John Michael McDonagh’s follow up to The Guard, 2014's Calvary (which he again writes and directs), is a thought provoking mystery infused drama which delves into irony, theology, predestination, and how the wounds of the past influence the present in most powerful ways. Opening with a quotation from Saint Augustine – “Do not despair; one of the thieves was saved. Do not presume; one of the thieves was damned.”, we are then introduced to our main character, Father James (Brendan Gleeson), a good man in small town Ireland. Originally married with a daughter, when his wife died, he followed a calling to the priesthood, attempting to impart his spiritual wisdom and some much needed solace to his flock.
By now, most film fanatics have discovered the works of playwright turned film maker Martin McDonagh, starting with the 2004 short film Six Shooter (it earned him an Oscar), he then went full length with 2008's In Bruges (it quickly became an acclaimed cult classic), next heading Stateside with the rather violent 2012 comedy Seven Psychopaths (again, garnering much praise), only for his fourth, and to date, final effort, 2017's Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri, to earn multiple Academy Award nominations (including two wins. . . while many believed it should have won Best Picture as well). While we wait for his still untitled next feature (which is currently in pre-production), perhaps some of you have yet to discover his very talented brother, John Michael McDonagh. Today, I’ll introduce you to the short film that started it all, as well as the full length feature that blossomed out of it.
You just have to wonder if the overt sentimentality of a Frank Capra-type picture can’t work with a twenty-first century mindset. . . known as Capracorn, his movies were so sweet that they would even cause a perfectly healthy individual to get diabetes. Case in point, 2005's The Amateurs (sometimes known as The Moguls), a movie so obscure, a teacher makes more money in one year than it grossed at the box office. Panned by critics and never given a chance at the box office, it was relegated to a grim alternate reality akin to Pottersville. Written and directed by first time film maker Michael Traeger (sadly, this is still his only directorial credit), he follows the Capra mold, finding a rather ironic storyline to juxtapose the heart-filled tale.
Only Bong Joon Ho’s second movie, 2003's Memories of Murder already shows the masterful brush strokes of a confident young artist, writing a thought provoking, multi-layered script (based upon a series of real life murders as well as Alan Moore’s graphic novel “From Hell”) that is paired with a mesmeric visual onscreen presence. Set in a rural town in South Korea, this is a location that has been left behind. Usually a peaceful, quiet place (except when the trains pass through), October 1986 has brought with it the dead body of a young woman – both raped and murdered. Riots and protests routinely pop up in this fractured time and setting.
Next time you see your friends, you might just want to take a gander into their peepers, for if we learn one thing in today’s feature, it’s that Death Has Blue Eyes (aka The Girl Is a Bomb). A 1976 Greek film written and directed by first time film maker Nico Mastorakis (though his more famous cult classic Island of Death was released first, it was in fact made second), this one is a mish-mash of C movie ideas rolled into a honey-trap of underwhelming baklava (sadly, the Greek pastry does not make an appearance in the flick). Feeding off of the James Bond and giallo craze of the time (as well as any other genre they could pop in), financed by the porn king of Greece, and with a budget so low that the writer/director would not earn one penny (or should I say drachma), in the end, it does intriguingly share some similarities with Brian De Palma’s Carrie – which was released the same year as this one. Keep in mind, perhaps, the fact that this is arguably the first supernatural film to be made in Greece – so maybe we can be kind in saying that it has a good concept that just isn’t executed particularly well.
“The cruelest dream, reality”. . . a lyric from The Offspring’s iconic song that shares the same title as this article, speaks volumes to today’s feature. 1986's River’s Edge, written by Neal Jimenez and directed by Tim Hunter, takes a bleak look at the lives of a group of teens growing up in northern California during the MTV generation. Arguably holding a twisted link to Stand by Me, which was released the very same year, this holds the lens to older teens. . . focusing more on the Kiefer Sutherland character’s age group rather the tweens of that feature. A dual analysis could definitely reap some benefits.