The Wicker Man: Film (1973)

The Wicker Man (1973)

Dir. Robin Hardy

Police Sergeant Howie (Edward Woodward) travels alone to a remote Scottish island to investigate the disappearance of a young girl, but the local villagers hinder his efforts at every turn.

Undeterred, the single-minded officer digs deeper and discovers things that shock and offend him, both on a literal and spiritual level.

The Wicker Man has singing, dancing, and Christopher Lee in a wig and summer dress. I'm sincere when I say it's perhaps the most unique British film ever made (certainly that I've ever seen, at least) and is arguably both Christopher Lee's and Edward Woodward's finest moment. Both men had a CV filled with superb work, many times over, so it's high praise indeed.

It's been described as "The Citizen Kane of Horror Movies," and while that means absolutely nothing in real terms (I don’t even consider it a horror film) it's undeniably atypical and for that alone deserves to be applauded, even if you hate it.

Yojimbo (1961)

Yojimbo (1961)

Dir. Akira Kurosawa

Toshirô Mifune stars as the titular yojimbo (bodyguard), a rōnin (masterless samurai) who's feeling the economic pinch of the era in Akira Kurosawa's much-imitated jidaigeki.

The character positions himself between two rival bosses, one at each end of a small town, and cautiously but skilfully outmanoeuvres them both. He knows that being in the middle is a dangerous place to be, but it offers him the best possible view of both sides.

One of the film's greatest strengths is its straightforward delivery. For both director and actor actions are more important than words, while the old man that shelters the rōnin (Eijirō Tōno) provides backstory for the viewer, followed by the yojimbo advancing the plot as and when the story needs it.

In contrast, Mifune's role is multifaceted, and yet he somehow makes it seem as effortless as his character's manipulation of the antagonists.

Dead Ringers (1988)

Dead Ringers (1988)

Dir. David Cronenberg

When Cronenberg helms a story about identical twin gynaecologists who specialise in treating female fertility problems and who share their patients and their lovers, you would expect to find an uncomfortable mixture of sexual practices with clinical ones.

And you will, but Dead Ringers goes to even deeper levels of unease. The pair live an ordered lifestyle, are outwardly confident, professional and well-respected by their peers, but it's the twofold shadow cast by the privacy of their complex relationship that the viewer needs to pay close attention to. 

Like in a single body or organism, when an interdependent part falls out of sync with its connecting organs, malady occurs.

British actor Jeremy Irons is amazing in a dual role, skilfully feeding himself emotional triggers and responding to the same situation, sometimes in two very different ways.

The Osterman Weekend (1983)

The Osterman Weekend (1983)

Dir. Sam Peckinpah

A government agency seeks to use one man to catch a group of other men in a political game of cat and mouse. Or is it cat and cat? Maybe it's mouse and mouse?

It's an adaptation of a 1972 Robert Ludlum novel of the same name, so there are the usual scenes of important men getting nervous over dodgy dealings and a twisty-turny ending. It makes you aware that not everyone sees friendship in the same way, and may even stir you to question if the people who claim to be your friends really are when they aren't beside you.

There's an unusual car chase and a few scattered moments where Peckinpah piqued my interest technically, but despite a strong cast his cinematic swansong isn't as memorable as much of what preceded it.

F for Fake (1973)

F for Fake (1973)

Dir. Orson Welles / François Reichenbach, Oja Kodar, and Gary Graver (uncredited)

In Orson's own words, it's a "film about trickery," which is something that's explored in both the subject matter and through the medium via which it's presented.

Part documentary, part biopic, and part essay on the nature of what's real and what's fake, the film twists viewer perceptions while remaining wholly faithful to its own agenda, whatever that may be at any given time.

Its carefully constructed randomness is anything but. Hiding insight inside of hindsight, at times it's as frustrating as it is revealing, but about what exactly is something that's very much open to debate. Ultimately, it's a work made and narrated by Orson, but might be more about him than anyone else featured in it, real or constructed.

NOTE: depending where you look, or which edition you prefer to own, it's variously listed as having been released either in 1973, '74, or '75. The earliest screening date I can find is 1973 (San Sebastián Film Festival), so I went with that.

Django (1966)

Django (1966)

Dir. Sergio Corbucci

Corbucci's notorious Spaghetti Western is surprisingly less violent than its history of classification in the UK implies, but BBFC decisions being 'partially reactionary' shouldn't really be news to anyone, right?

Franco Nero is the charismatic anti-hero dressed in black coat and hat, dragging a full-sized coffin behind him. The mysterious figure and his deathly cargo arrive in a mostly abandoned town that's under siege from a gang of Mexican bandits and a racist ex-Civil War Confederate Major (Eduardo Fajardo) who kills Mexicans for sport, a situation that was no doubt inspired by Yojimbo (1961).

Django stands up for the abused when it suits him, including coming to the aid of a beautiful prostitute named Maria (Loredana Nusciak).

Mad Max Trilogy (1979-85)

Mad Max (1979)

Dir. George Miller

As enjoyable as the first Mad Max film is on its own, in hindsight it works better if you look upon it as an extended prologue to the more entertaining sequel, The Road Warrior (1981), where the world is no longer on the verge of going to shit, as it is here, but has actually tipped over and fell face-first into it.

It has the feel of a B-Movie, but the on-the-road carnage is much better than what you'd normally get in that kind of commercial venture, and it's not without some black humour to keep it from sinking under the weight of its own gloomy subject matter.

The crew is to be applauded for making the scenario believable. Max (Mel Gibson), however, is kind of boring as a family man/highway interceptor. It's not until he gets his 'mad' on that he becomes interesting.

The Terminator: Films (1984-2003)

The Terminator (1984)

Dir. James Cameron

Cameron's sci-fi actioner sits comfortably as the archetype for movies about murderous humanoid machines from the future that travel back in time to kill someone important, thus changing their own present in a favourable way. Linda Hamilton is the target. Schwarzenegger is the instrument.

Playing to the big man's strengths (i.e. he hardly speaks), the role is largely responsible for his career taking off as much as it did. It's clear to see why. He's perfect. His natural ability to be indelibly domineering helped the character seem totally inhuman. His physicality was translated successfully into a show of almost unstoppable force - his unwavering attitude arguably even more memorable than his iconic coat and glasses.

It's not a flawless movie, but by 1984 standards it was certainly a damn good one and is still mostly deserving of the accolades it continues to receive.

John Carpenter: Films: Part II (1980-84)

The Fog (1980)

Dir. John Carpenter

The fictional Antonio Bay is the setting for what's basically a traditional ghost story that's been granted a John Carpenter twist.

The plot is pretty simple: as the townspeople prepare to celebrate the centenary of the Bay, a scary fog with an accompanying green light rolls slowly but menacingly in from the sea, bringing with it something aged and angry. It's the atmosphere, the suspense and the overall eerie vibe that raise it above its B-Movie origins.

Trivia fans might like to know that two of the stars, Janet Leigh and Jamie Lee Curtis, are real life mother and daughter, both of whom starred in classic horror/suspense films previously. Janet was in Hitchcock's Psycho (1960). Jamie Lee was in Carpenter's Halloween (1978).

Rabid (1977)

Rabid (1977)

Dir. David Cronenberg

Cronenberg’s fascination with body modification gone awry continued with Rabid, this time centred around a plastic surgery clinic and a crash victim.

It’s similar to his previous film Shivers (1975) both visually and in that the horror is again something normal that’s become abnormal, and when viewed from the other perspective it’s something new embracing life, but it’s not as unsettling as Shivers was and the ridiculous premise is hard to swallow, even for a fan of his work like I am.

I kept thinking while viewing that the story, although written by the director, would've better suited George Romero's talents. It's not a bad film, but not one of my favourites.

X: The Man with the X-Ray Eyes (1963)

X: The Man with the X-Ray Eyes (1963)

Dir. Roger Corman

What on paper probably seemed like it would be just another footnote on Roger Corman's CV was elevated to more memorable heights by the hiring of Ray Miland. Like a Hitchcockian lead he dominates the screen with a sense of obsessive and flawed nobility, pushing the narrative ever-deeper into the realm of avoidable consequence.

As Doctor James Xavier he discovers a serum that enables an individual to see through solid objects. The fun times had peering through ladies dresses and underwear are contrasted by a darker side to the ability that looms large on the horizon, one that ironically can't be seen until it's too late.

A genuine classic of the genre, X deserves its place in the sci-fi movie pantheon.

Q: The Winged Serpent (1982)

Q: The Winged Serpent (1982)

Dir. Larry Cohen

I really dislike cities, so New York isn't a place I'd ever want to visit. In Larry Cohen's New York there's a giant flying creature from myth and legend literally picking up amateur actors and dropping body parts in its wake. It's a place I definitely wouldn't want to visit!

There's also an open-minded cop; a weaselly, opportunist crook; and an Aztec death cult member getting happy with his favourite ritual killing-knife, all of whom somehow have relevance to the randomness.

It's idiotic but it's easy to get swept up in the nonsense, meaning it's the good kind of idiotic. And even when there's not much happening onscreen the ominous music manages to keep the tension ticking over.

In short, Q is a pleasing B-Movie that thankfully didn't end up lost and forgotten, which is a fate that many cheap monster movies suffer. Extra credit must go to actor Michael Moriarty who surely knew what kind of a film he was starring in but still gave it his all.

Videodrome (1983) : Arrow Video Limited Edition (2015)

Videodrome (1983)

Dir. David Cronenberg

Seeing is believing. Until we see something in its physical aspect then its reality is questionable.

What then of television? The device is visible but the transmission invisible. The pictures enter our mind the same way as everything else, but their 'reality' can be entirely fictitious. Sure, we're programmed to know the difference, but what if the programming changes or the difference slips away? Is seeing really believing, then?

By the same token, at what point does violent sex become sexual violence? When does flesh and distinction cease to follow the accepted rules?

Torture. Murder. Mutilation. Videodrome.

Director David Cronenberg's masterpiece.

Halloween: Films (1978-2002)

Halloween (1978)
Dir. John Carpenter

Halloween is more than just another cheap, independent slasher flick. It's a master class on how to create, pace and sustain tension when working with a limited budget.

The unease and sense of foreboding that permeates every crucial scene is in large part due to Carpenter's use of music. Like Hermann's score on Psycho (1960) it has a stabbing, piercing, onomatopoeic quality that keeps your nerves on a knife edge.

The faceless, unstoppable force that is Michael Myers taps into a very human, deep-rooted fear of what's hidden behind the mask we all wear, but Michael's inner evil is so powerful that even blankness can't hide it.

John Carpenter: Films: Part I (1974-79)

Dark Star (1974)
Dir. John Carpenter

Unless you're a hopelessly dedicated John Carpenter fan, then you'll likely want to stay far away from Dark Star. It's his low budget student film expanded to feature-length.

It's pretty terrible, really, but it's also interesting for a number of reasons. Most notably the script was co-written with Dan O'Bannon and plays like a prototype of his later success, Ridley Scott's Alien (1979).

Also, the music has that cheap and creepy Carpenter vibe. I love Carpenter's music.