Stealers Wheel

Picture this – a stunning modernist gallery catches the eye of a passerby late one night, not because of its striking white floors and walls that are the backdrop for noteworthy pieces of art, but rather, because it is the scene of a brutal attack. . . a woman being knifed by a man dressed in a dark raincoat, fedora and gloves, her panicked look and seeping blood in stark contrast to the pale decor. Attempting to rescue her, he gets stuck between two hard-wired glass door panels – this is the hook for the benchmark 1970 giallo The Bird with the Crystal Plumage, written and directed by Dario Argento. The man is Sam Dalmas (Tony Musante), a struggling author from the United States. Coming off of a bender, it is this disturbing sight that enlivens his senses, a chivalric jolt of adrenaline. Though he cannot rescue the girl directly, he is able to sound the alarm, flagging a late-night walker who calls the police.

The obituary – the last call, the final farewell, the closing shindig (likely the only remaining time you’ll be the centre of attention), basically a public invite looking for a person’s friends and family to come together for one last time to say goodbye, to tell stories, and to find some solace in closing the book on a man or woman’s story. . . but is it truly the end? Opening with an obituary, first time filmmaker Ari Aster’s Hereditary transports us into a reeling family dynamic, a group that have about as much promise in their lineage as the Usher’s (the Edgar Allan Poe characters, not the hip hop/pop artist). With mental illness coursing through their blood, Annie Graham (Toni Collette) did not exactly have a great relationship with her mother – often estranged, the elderly lady, who lived with dissociative identity disorder, ended her days dealing with dementia, further adding to the enigma that was her highly private life.

“The Road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the Road has gone, And I must follow, if I can. . .” – a beautiful, and perhaps slightly ominous passage by J.R.R. Tolkien. . . it is also a quotation that speaks to the post-apocalyptic film simply titled The Road (2009). Based upon Cormac McCarthy’s novel of the same name, John Hillcoat transports us into a bleak, dying land – with frequent earthquakes and mass fires, it is as if every tree had burned and volcano erupted, an ashen world that no long shines. All animals are extinct, bugs are now almost mythical creatures. Less driven by plot than a credo, our main characters, a Man (Viggo Mortensen) and his Boy (Kodi Smit-McPhee), follow a well worn road to the coast. Though it is likely that there is no more hope there than where they came from, it is their goal, the thing that drives them forward, their lifeblood.

There is a fascinating duality to the old west. Still mostly unsullied, the natural landscape was peaceful, serene, carrying with it an almost quiet solemnity (a new life filled with hope), yet, in the blink of an eye, violence could rear its ugly head, leaving behind a long lasting wake of pain, hurt, melancholy, and anger. An existential study of the clash of cultures, and the grey areas that sit in the large milieu between war and peace, Scott Cooper’s 2017 western Hostiles is a film that pays tribute to the past whilst speaking to the present unrest found in the world today. Centred around a man of conviction, stoic military veteran Capt. Joseph J. Blocker (Christian Bale), he has made his living off of slaughtering the native hordes that disrupt America’s Manifest Destiny. Called into the office of his superior, Col. Abraham Biggs (Stephen Lang), early one morning, he is less than pleased to learn that his final assignment (before retiring) will be to transport a cancer-riddled Cheyenne war chief, Yellow Hawk (Wes Studi), and his family, including son Black Hawk (Adam Beach), from New Mexico to his homelands of Montana – at the bequest of President Harrison. At first willing to disobey orders on his principles (Yellow Hawk was responsible for killing many of his colleagues and friends), the Colonel threatens to court-martial him and remove his pension – basically forcing him to take the job.

Will Buster Keaton ever catch a break?. . . well, let’s be honest, by the end of the film, things usually work out alright. But, as The Great Stoneface hops, skips and jumps his way through a bevy of ever complicated (and might I add, intricately plotted) obstacles – no matter what movie, luck never seems to come his way. Case in point, 1921's two reel short, The Goat – which has nothing to do with an animal. Opening with a clever gag in which Keaton, (playing a famished, unlucky man monikered The Goat), is seen heading to the back of a bread line. . . misfortune reveals that the last three men in the procession are not actually men at all – they are mannequins showing off clothing for a store, hence, the never moving lineup.