Diabolical Danger

Ryan Gosling’s first, and to date, only writing and directing credit, 2014's Lost River is by no means a film for everyone. . . an arthouse style dark fairytale with tinges of gialli violence and colour, the actor turned filmmaker sets in place a slow, unsettling mood that will either hold you in its oppressive grip, or might just leave you up the creek without a paddle. The title a reference to the town in which we are dropped into, it is like much of smaller town America (and some of larger city America as well – it is actually filmed in Detroit), a crumbling locale where many young folks have fled, businesses sit empty, roving gangs of hoodlums burn houses for the fun of it, and everyone lives in a dystopic-like fugue state of depressed apathy.

Every once in a while, a scene, or to break it down even further, a moment, forever captures the zeitgeist of the cinema world. . . more long lasting and memorable than the movie ever could be. By now, you may have already guessed that I am talking about the breezy subway grate blowing up Marilyn Monroe’s flowy white dress (cooling her down on a hot summer’s night) in The Seven Year Itch (1955). Funnily enough, the press generated from the scene’s filming in New York City (the excitement of over five thousand fans watching them shoot and then spreading the word. . .along with the risqué-for-the-time photographs that circulated around the world) brought people into theatres to experience a moment that could never truly match up with what was broadcast. . . for the Hays code would never allow the revealing extent shown before the release to be seen on screen – though that is not to say that it is still not a fabulous clip. . . and I’m here to also say, so is the film.

Like watching a magician shuffle a deck of cards (including jokers) into perfect numerical order, director John Crowley (Brooklyn) takes Mark O’Rowe’s screenplay, which consists of a whopping fifty-four characters (hence the jokers) and eleven separate storylines, weaving them together in wholly interesting ways to make Intermission (2003). What is it about Irish screenwriters that gives them the ability to build these complex stories in clever ways? I really don’t have an answer, but like the works of brothers Martin and John Michael McDonagh, there is a unique essence in this narrative that avoids tropes, Crowley intersecting all of O’Rowe’s stories in an impressive way.

I will be the first to say that I absolutely love the great Mel Brooks. Secondly, I will also say that I absolutely love Alfred Hitchcock. So, to have a movie in which Mel Brooks satirizes the motion pictures of Alfred Hitchcock just seems like it would be pure twenty-four karat gold. Saying that, I probably went into 1977's High Anxiety with expectations that were just a bit too high. . . which caused me a touch of anxiety. Bringing together many of his usual comedy friends from his other 70s pictures, the plot follows the famed Dr. Richard Thorndyke (Mel Brooks) as he flies out to California for his new job – running the Psycho-Neurotic Institute for the Very, Very Nervous (a fenced complex that holds a sign that reads “Keep In”).

Coming off a bit like an Asian version of a Quentin Tarantino/Guy Richie feature, First Love (2019) finds iconic Japanese director Takashi Miike (now with over one hundred films under his belt) in his favourite playground, fusing violence, comedy, crime, and romance together in a most entertaining way. An intricate ballet of characters shot at the pace of a hockey game, Leo (Masataka Kubota) is a lonesome boxer. . . an abandoned young man whose only skill is being a pugilist. Taking a limp-wristed punch during a bout, he unexpectedly crumples to the ground like a baby who has just realized that he can walk for the very first time. Medical investigation shows a tumour on the back of his brain – a death warrant. Seeing a street fortune teller (Bengal) soon after, he is frustrated at the man’s two views: one – that he is a healthy young man; and two – that he needs to have a cause and help people.