Stealers Wheel

It’s funny how vivid our memories can be – clearly recalling moments from when we were kids. I can remember hearing of actor Brandon (son of Bruce) Lee’s death while shooting a movie, seeing photos of him plastered all over magazines and tv in his now iconic makeup. Making a connection soon after in my mind with Sting (not the singer of The Police, but rather, the wrestler – who soon after Lee’s death modelled his makeup on his character. . . as you can guess, I was into wresting at the time), his look and story stuck with me from the age of six until now, a heartbreaking tale of a fatal mistake made on set. Of course, the film I am referring to is The Crow, directed by Alex Proyas (Dark City) – a tale that is hard to separate from the depressing real life tragedy. Like some sort of eerie foreshadowing, its narrative follows Eric Draven (Lee), a man who has died after being stabbed, shot and thrown out of a window (Lee passed away after being shot by an improperly deactivated cartridge) – all of this after his fiancée has been raped and murdered.

If you’ve ever hoped someone would combine Hans Christian Andersen’s “The Little Mermaid” with touches of David Cronenberg’s psychological sexual thriller Crash (or many of the director’s other iconic horror features) and the quirky colours and music of Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory – then you’ve got one interesting imagination. . . and your time is here, as the 2015 Polish horror musical The Lure, directed by Agnieszka Smoczynska, walks this bizarre line. Mesmeric in its colours and direction, some may wonder why make the film a musical. . . though, if you think about it, it makes perfect sense, as these half human/half monster hybrids are like the sirens of Homer’s epic poems, creatures that sing to allure and attract (it gets more gruesome after that) – it is in their essence. Set in Poland in the Communist era 1980s, the story follows mermaid sisters Silver (Marta Mazurek) and Golden (Michalina Olszańska) – they have a yin and yang quality, the former a more compassionate being learning to love, the latter a more violent, dangerous beast – as they make their way into a foreign landscape.

Ah. . . Edgar Allan Poe. The original master of suspense (and macabre), with his maniacal revenge plots, twisted love stories and gothic settings, has arguably done more for horror films than any other writer (though some may argue that H.P. Lovecraft excels). This is evident in nearly every frame of the 1972 giallo Your Vice is a Locked Door and Only I Have the Key (the title alone is a classic, it was also released under other titles as well, including Gently Before She Dies, Eye of the Black Cat, and Excite Me!). Loosely based upon Poe’s “The Black Cat”, director Sergio Martino infuses a style reminiscent of Henri-Georges Clouzot’s horror classic Les Diaboliques, making for a unique narrative. Set in an ancient villa, its decay and rot echoing the crumbling marriage inside (this setting will bring to mind several Poe tales, most notably, “The Fall of the House of Usher”), Oliviero (Luigi Pistilli) is a small town celebrity, an author who has had several novels published (though currently has writer’s block). Revelling in the dwindling free love sixties movement, he frequently invites a group of hippies from a local campsite to party with him. Much to the chagrin of his unhappy (and frequently beaten/threatened) wife Irina (Anita Strindberg), the pair are constantly targeting each other (in very different ways).

With a remake currently in theatres, it is the perfect time to revisit 1974's Death Wish. A film that was mostly panned by critics upon its release (a rare supporter was Roger Ebert), its raw form of vigilante justice captured the imagination of the American public – after all, it was an era when crime ran rampant in many urban metropolises. A pure example of a gritty, violent, anti-establishment exploitation piece, director Michael Winner (The Mechanic) introduces us to an architect named Paul Kersey (Charles Bronson – his star raised by this game-changing role), a happy man who is currently on vacation (in Hawaii) with his wife Joanna (Hope Lange).

If it was ever possible for a film to be of the wrong time as well as utterly relevant for its time, Francis Lawrence’s Red Sparrow would be it. Like a hybrid of a 1970's B exploitation pic and Italian giallo thriller (it relishing in its moments of sadism, violence and nudity), at the same moment, it is a worthwhile vehicle for its female lead. Dealing with topics such as rape, revenge, retribution, and politics, its old-school style story-telling (with twenty-first century glossy filter) has likely pushed it to the fringes – with such issues ripping through Hollywood and American politics itself, it may be too close to home for many to enjoy. A motion picture that would have thrived on the drive-in circuit back in the day, it is a twisty (and twisted) Machiavellian tale of spy-craft and game-playing. . . a dog eat dog, cutthroat world. Led by a daring performance from Jennifer Lawrence (reuniting with her Hunger Games director – that is, of films two, three, and four), she plays Dominika Egorova, a prima ballerina in Russia. After a horrible injury, she is left in a precarious position, as she does not have the money to support herself or her sickly mother, Nina (Joely Richardson).