Cinematic Distractions

[dulcedemon]

RRR (2022):
The grandiosity of it is something of a marvel. Everything is high velocity and maximum intensity. Don't let the singing and dancing fool you. This is a hardcore action movie. The style of action is not unlike a popular anime series from the 1990s that featured two high-powered mutants with spiky hair. In other words, it's cartoonishly over-the-top. At the heart of the story is a bromance which is forged and tested under extraordinary circumstances. Their improbable pairing is reflected by the fire and water motif which can be found throughout the movie.
When I saw the song Naatu Naatu performed at the Academy Awards, I knew nothing about the story. At the time, I wondered what was up with all the white people. Well, the story begins in 1920. The scene for that award-winning song is a dance battle between natives and colonists. Although the characters are based on actual historic figures, the story is pure fiction. In reality, these two heroes of the Indian revolution, Alluri Sitarama Raju and Komaram Bheem, never met.
Despite all the action, its epic length coupled with the fact that the audience knows things from the start that the main characters don't makes it kind of a slog. It's also one of those movies that starts the action before finishing the title sequence. The opening credits conclude about an hour into the action by slowly revealing the meaning of each "R" in the title.
It's almost but not quite a Valentine's Day movie. February 14th is mentioned, but it's not a holiday in India. It's the date on which the party where the dance battle takes place is held.

Romeo & Juliet (1968):
I can't remember if I was nine or ten. I remember that it was June. It was a week or so after school had let out for the summer. Our last class activity was a field trip to a local amusement park. That might have been where I caught the cold, which turned into bronchitis, which verged on pneumonia, and so I began my summer bedridden.
One afternoon of my two weeks in bed, my grandmother came in and woke me up, turned my television on, and said there was a movie coming on that I could watch until dinner was ready. This was the movie. It lent itself well to my bleary-eyed and breathless situation.
I'm no judge of Shakespeare. As to whether this production is good, bad, accurate, or taking wild license, I neither know nor care. I was entertained by it enough to want to read Shakespeare. Though I opted for the comedies over the tragedies.
When I saw it back then, I was most impressed with the costumes, and Olivia Hussey. I really can't think of any other Juliet. This time around, I was more taken with John McEnery as Mercutio, and Michael York as Tybalt.
I don't recall if I saw a censored version back then. It's hard to understand the fuss over such brief nudity. They were young but age appropriate for the story, and they didn't do anything sexual.
The only thing I found alarming was an interview from 1967 in which Olivia Hussey and Leonard Whiting seem to get drunk. They are drinking what appears to be orange juice for the entire interview, but judging from the change in their demeanor, I suspect it was spiked with booze. I also noticed that the more stressful it got the more they drank, especially when questions were asked about the nude scene and how it might affect their future prospects. I'm glad it was included in the bonus features because it gave me some perspective on why those two actors are suing for child abuse over fifty years later.

And God Created Woman (Et Dieu... créa la femme - 1956):
For one thing, it's an Easter movie. I spent considerable time trying to think of a gentle and intelligent way to explain why I enjoyed this deeply chauvinistic movie. Not misogynistic, chauvinistic, there is a difference. As far as my explanation goes, all I can offer is a shrug and sorry not sorry. This was not Brigitte Bardot's first film, but it's the one that made her an international sensation. It's the reason why my grandfather and my great uncle would smile at each other at the mere mention of her name, and I don't blame them.
A grand old sugar daddy, a thirtysomething cad, and the cad's twentysomething brother finagle a way to keep the sweetest, most succulent, young lady in the town of Saint-Tropez from being shipped back to the orphanage by her pearl clutching, morality policing, foster mother. Stunningly gorgeous Juliete (Brigitte Bardot) lives with her foster parents and works at a local bookstore. It's baffling that although Juliete is eighteen, she is not yet considered an adult. So for whatever reason or law, she is not permitted to live independently, even though she is employed. She is beholden to the orphanage until she turns twenty-one.
She likes to go barefoot. She likes to go dancing. She likes sunning herself in the nude. All of which causes a great deal of consternation on the part of her custodians. She has a sugar daddy, Eric Carradine, played by Curd Jürgens. Although the actor is in his early forties here, his character comes across more like a man in his fifties. She lusts after the somewhat younger Antoine Tardieu (Christian Marquand), but he doesn't take her seriously. Antoine's shy younger brother, Michael (Jean-Louis Trintignant), has a major crush on her.
The first thing that struck me about this film was its musicality. From the scintillating, slow burn opening credits to the intensely sensual dance number, if you can stop ogling long enough to listen, it has a terrific jazz score. The other thing is its beauty. Juliete is pretty. The beaches and the ocean are pretty. The boats are pretty. The town is pretty. It's a beautiful little film. The restoration effort paid off.
Isabelle Corey has a small role as Juliete's best friend, Lucienne. I saw her not too long ago as Anne in Bob le Flambeur (1956). Her role here is quite similar but far less prominent. I have few negative things to say about it other than the aforementioned chauvinism. Two out of three guys are selfish horn dogs. There is also a kissing scene that goes on a little too long. It's adorable at first, then less so, then weird. Hint: It doesn't involve any of the men.

Vermillion Pleasure Night Vol. 1: Optic Erotica (2006):
I came across this Japanese variety show featuring sketch comedy, performance art, musical acts, animation, and claymation not long after its original release, so this is a revisit. It's irreverent, salacious, and downright bizarre.
Even though it's barely twenty years old, I doubt a show of its nature would be made today. It commits too many social and cultural offenses that present day audiences are forbidden from finding amusing.
Some bits have aged better than others. A few are too unnerving to be funny. Of the two episodes in this volume, the first one is by far the better. This volume delivers on its eye candy title. The cast appears to be comprised almost entirely of beautiful women showing off a parade of spectacular fashions.
My favorite sketches are Midnight Cooking (the one with the singers not the shaky hands one), One Point English Lesson, and Six Singing Girls. I didn't like the mannequin comedy then, and I don't like it now. Unfortunately, there is a lot of it. There is also a sketch called Cathy's House in which actors play mannequins or life size dolls.

The Devil is a Woman (1935):
"I should like some coffee before I die, and in your soothing company if possible."
One preposterous headdress after another crowns Marlene Dietrich in her final collaboration with director Josef von Sternberg. I would be done with these movies by now if I had watched them in order, but I have one more to go.
It's Carnival time in Spain, and all the stores had a big sale on party streamers, so much so that the actors have to wade through them. There is a movie somewhere under all that festive set design. The masks and costumes are quite good, and the parade scenes are delightfully chaotic.
The handsome and dashing Antonio Galvan (Cesar Romero) dares to flirt with the lovely and alluring Concha Perez (Marlene Dietrich) as she rides by on a parade float. After a quick exchange, they agree to a late-night rendezvous, but first, Antonio has drinks with his older, wiser friend and mentor, Capt. Don Pasqual Costelar (Lionel Atwill). The good Captain is all too familiar with Concha. His cautionary tale framed in flashback begins the story.
I've read that Dietrich considered this one of her finest performances. I can't say that I agree. It's certainly her most animated. Her exaggerated affectations have an almost unhinged quality. It's a jiggling, shimmying, eye-rolling, rump-shaking, foot-stomping good time. Some of it is just typical Dietrich, but the rest...
Most of her other films offer a brief explanation of how she came to be in any given exotic locale. This one does not. Presumably, she is playing a Spanish woman. It annoyed me because sauerbraten is not paella no matter how you serve it (or how impetuously she stamps her feet). I'm thankful that they didn't resort to brownface.
Romero and Atwill make it bearable. Both actors turn in stellar performances. Cesar Romero also provides a bit of eye candy both with and without the bat mask that he sports for Carnival.
Another highlight is character actress Tempe Pigott. She plays Concha's pimpish manager. She delivers the absolute best old hag cackle. She cackles more than she utters actual lines, and it's flawless every time.
I loved Margaret Hamilton in The Wizard of Oz (1939), but Tempe Pigott now reigns as the cackle queen supreme in my estimation.
Compared to some of Dietrich's other films, this one is a little light on musical numbers. Originally there were two songs, but one of them was cut. If It Isn't Pain (It Isn't Love) is the one that was cut. It was included as an extra on the DVD. Better off without it in my opinion. The remaining song is Three Sweethearts Have I. It's a comedy song done up in a playful burlesque number for the film.
https://youtu.be/HoeAtGDseMc

Beetle Queen Conquers Tokyo (2009):
I must have misread the synopsis. I thought this was going to be a straightforward documentary about an entomologist who specialized in beetles. The title led me to erroneously conclude that the entomologist was a woman.
The entomologist is not a woman. There is no entomologist. There is Dr. Takeshi Yoro, a physician and anatomist, whose hobby is insects. This documentary isn't about him. It alludes to an interview with him, but most of it was cut and dumped in the bonus features. He periodically spouts pseudoscientific spiritualism over scenes of Tokyo's skyline, busy streets, nightlife, and rushing trains. When he isn't talking, a woman narrator offers us tidbits of poetry, history, and lore with similar backdrops but also waterfalls and other scenes of nature.
The bulk of the footage shows bug hunters for profit, and a sampling of their customers. None of it offers any meaningful information about the subjects shown. The worst part of it for me was all the bug torture and murder. It juxtaposes the poetry and reverence for nature narrative with scenes of grade school kids being taught how to pin and mount specimens, profit-driven bug hunters kicking trees to make beetles fall into their ready nets and setting up massive floodlights and white sheets to trap flying insects at night.
It was infuriating to see so many endangered Luna Moths being lured to their deaths. They live for only one week as adults. They don't even eat during that last week of their lives. Their sole focus is mating before they die. Several are shown obviously distressed by the intense light and being damaged from mishandling by the bug hunters and their kids. I didn't learn about Luna Moths from this documentary. Those were things I already knew.
In another scene, one of the bug hunters shows off a Ferrari he bought with his fat stacks of beetle money. It doesn't say how much he makes. It shows a small child in a pet store. The child's father buys a beetle for the equivalent of fifty dollars, but there is nothing to say whether that price is high, low, or average.
It goes off on a tangent about crickets, and another about fireflies, but yet again, it fails to go deeper than aesthetics. I would characterize this as an amateur art film masquerading as a documentary. The only insect that I had hard time feeling sorry for was the Murder Hornet, yet I wouldn't have minded if it had nailed one of the tree-kickers.

The Cat from Outer Space (1978):
Other than the cat, the pretty glowing collar, the spaceship, and a host of actors bound to trigger nostalgia in those of a certain generation, this isn't worth the time. I think I saw it once when I was a child.
Apparently, I didn't think too much of it then either.
I rented it because Tim Holt wasn't in enough movies. Tim Holt is not in this movie. In fact, he died years before it was even made. I recently enjoyed Tim Holt in The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948), and I wanted to catch a glimpse of him later his career.
I decided upon the wacky sci-fi horror movie The Monster That Challenged the World (1957), but I couldn't rent it. While reading down its cast list, I spotted an actor who looked vaguely familiar. That actor was Hans Conried. In trying to figure out what I knew him from, I rented this very silly Disney movie. It wasn't until after I had subjected myself to it that I discovered I could watch a colorized version of The Monster That Challenged the World at the Internet Archive. Perhaps another time.