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.
Let’s be honest – we don’t go to see a movie like Spider-Man: Homecoming for its shocking twists and turns. Now on its second reboot since the Tobey Maguire starring, Sam Raimi directed 2002 film, it draws us to the theatre as it is a known commodity, a popcorn flick that we feel comfortable settling in to. . . and its biggest twist is probably that the creative team chose to go with The Ramones’ “Blitzkrieg Bop” instead of the band’s remake of the Spiderman theme song. Also, there is a little twist with the second post credit scene, a cheeky cameo that will have some happy they persevered, while others will complain that it didn’t pay off. Directed by Jon Watts, the narrative follows unusual high schooler Peter Parker (Tom Holland – the first time an actual teen has been cast in the part), the web-slinger must contend with those complicated teenage years, while also doubling as a quote/unquote intern with Stark Industries – motor-mouthed Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) flits in and out as the kid’s mentor.
One of my favourite films as a young boy – wholly capturing my imagination, was the 1960 George Pal directed sci-fi adventure The Time Machine, based on the 1895 novel of the same name by iconic author H.G. Wells. It is this movie that has possibly fuelled my intrigue with clocks, pocket watches and other time oriented things (motion pictures definitely fit within this grouping). Set at the turn of the twentieth century, specifically on two days, December 31st, 1899/ January 5th, 1900, H. George Wells (Rod Taylor) is an inventor and time enthusiast, a peculiar fellow who has changed quite a bit in a short amount of time – at least according to his friends. Disenchanted by the warmongering of the British government (the Boer War) and the ways in which technology has been used to improve the efficiency of killing, the inventor looks to the future for hope in humanity.
An atmospheric noir that takes place on both land and sea, Michael Curtiz’s 1950 crime drama The Breaking Point, the second adaptation of Ernest Hemingway’s “To Have and Have Not” (the original, the 1944 version, utilized the novel’s title and paired Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall for the first time), is a gripping tale that never lets you go. A touch less cynical but just as fateful as your prototypical film noir, the narrative follows former marine Harry Morgan (John Garfield), a genuine yet gruff fishing boat captain who has never caught the break he has so hoped for. Working with his loyal-to-a-fault African American first mate, Wesley Park (Juano Hernandez), the pair have been together for twelve years, always just making ends meet.
An inside joke for fans of Buster Keaton, they surely know that he often wears a pork pie hat in his films. Well, while watching 1928's Steamboat Bill, Jr., there is a scene where his uncle takes him to buy a new hat – to replace the effeminate French beret that currently adorns his little head. A revolving number are tried on by the young man, with the closest to his original being wholeheartedly rejected. Though he does eventually purchase a much larger version of a pork pie hat, it flies off of his head and into the flowing river, not to be recovered. This, in many ways, is symbolic of the changing era the talented silent comedian found himself in. After the box office debacle that was The General (now considered one of his greatest features), Keaton was no longer blessed with carte blanche when making his movies – the studio keeping a keen eye on spending and limiting his overall control.
I was fortunate enough to sit down with legendary heavyweight boxer Gerry Cooney not too long ago. One of the biggest punchers to ever grace the bright lights of the ring, his career spanned from 1977 to 1990, a final record of twenty-eight wins and only three losses (twenty-four of those victories came by way of knockout). A towering six feet, six inches, and with an impressive eighty-one inch reach, the offensive minded boxer dismantled two legends of the sport, Ron Lyle and Ken Norton – leading him to a match with the great Larry Holmes, a spectacular bout that went into the thirteenth round, ending with Cooney losing by TKO. After three more convincing wins, Cooney faced two more formidable foes, Michael Spinks and George Foreman, the latter bringing an end to his illustrious career.
A woman – bruised, battered and alone in a cool, sterile bathroom, attempting to lick her copious wounds (literally and figuratively) prior to being brought before an equally uninviting clandestine location filled with higher ups is the lead in (to clarify, it is the second scene) to the new David Leitch (co-director of the first John Wick) action thriller Atomic Blonde – based on the graphic novel “The Coldest City” by Antony Johnston and Sam Hart. Set during the last days of the Cold War, the female spy is Lorraine Broughton (Charlize Theron), an MI6 agent who, ten days previously, had been sent into Berlin to complete an unenvious mission. Retelling her tale to her twitchy superior, Eric Gray (Toby Jones), and the seemingly more daunting CIA agent, Emmett Kurzfeld (John Goodman), she is watched closely by Chief ‘C’ (James Faulkner), who sits just behind a one-way mirror – it feels like the dame is utterly alone, perhaps more fragile than she has ever been before.