Cinematic Distractions

[dulcedemon]

When a Woman Ascends the Stairs (Onna ga kaidan wo agaru toki - 1960):
I love this a little more each time I see it. It's a trifecta of top notch black and white cinematography, a solid and engaging storyline, and a cool jazz score. The story follows Keiko Yashiro (Hideko Takamine) a widow working as a bar hostess in Tokyo's Ginza district.
At age thirty, Keiko is young for a widow but old for a bar hostess. On the cusp of aging out of her profession, she has two options, come up with the funds to start her own bar, or luck out and marry one of her clients. Both are easier said than done, especially the former. Keiko's finances are impinged upon by her sad sack, almost parasitic mother and brother, a string of deadbeat clients, and a staggering amount of personal debt fueled by the nature of her work.
Debt is part and parcel of the hostess bar trade. The hostesses owe money to their managers (pimp meets talent agent), and the bar owners (mob or mob adjacent) for what amounts to an exorbitant privilege to work tax. They owe the landlords of the apartments they keep for entertaining clients after hours. They owe their dressmakers.
They are often tasked with making collection calls to their clients. It's a humiliating job. The clients are typically affluent businessmen, often married, self-indulgent, and prone to making promises they can't keep, while running up tabs they don't intend to pay.
Tatsuya Nakadai plays Kenichi Komatsu Keiko's manager and also a sort of unrequited love interest. He wants her, but he holds himself back out of respect for her adherence to tradition and her devotion to her late husband. Nakadai is best known for his subsequent leading roles directed by the likes of Kihachi Okamoto, Masaki Kobayashi, and Akira Kurosawa.

Agatha All Along (2024):
Just when I thought I was completely burnt out on Marvel, out comes Agatha All Along. I love witchy stuff, so I was a soft touch for this nine episode miniseries. Even so, I found the first episode disconcerting and a bit clunky. I could see how it would be a hard barrier to clear for anyone unfamiliar with WandaVision (2021). I relaxed a little by the time the credits rolled to the tune of Season of the Witch by Donovan.
I'm glad I stuck with the show for the full run. They timed the release so that it would conclude the night before Halloween. It's similar to how they released episodes of the Hawkeye (2021) series as a lead-up to Christmas. While not explicitly a Halloween special, it acts and dresses the part. The writers clearly put a lot of effort into adding layers of subtext and nuance. I like how they handled the romantic tension. The individual characters backstories and motivations enhance the story arc in a way that is immensely rewarding to watch. Some great casting choices were made. Aubrey Plaza really nails her character.
After being stripped of her power by the Scarlet Witch, Agatha Harkness (Kathryn Hahn) assembles a coven to walk the Witches' Road, a magical realm that she hopes will restore her. She is helped by a mysterious teenager (Joe Locke), who initially comes off as an overzealous fanboy. Recruiting allies proves to be a difficult task. Agatha has a reputation as an opportunistic cutthroat not to be trusted under any circumstances. Here she is asking people to join her in what is essentially a suicidal endeavor just so she can get her power back.
No witch can travel the road alone, hence the need for a coven. Walking the Witches's Road is really a euphemism for undergoing a series of harrowing and potentially fatal mental and physical trials tailored to the strengths and weaknesses of the participants. No progress can be made without some form of sacrifice. Selfishness will not be tolerated.
Each trial is geared for a specific witch, but it takes the entire coven to complete it. Also, there is a time limit. It's kind of like a spooky, supernatural version of Saw without the Jigsaw cult of personality and all the gore. Failure to complete any given trial means the end of the road for the whole coven.
As spectacular as the finale is, the seventh episode, Death's Hand in Mine, turned out to be my favorite. I like how the focus of the trial is not immediately apparent until the tarot cards come into play. This is the trial of the divination witch Lilia Calderu (Patti LuPone). I like both the character and the actress.
As a character, Lilia resonates with me in way that others can't, not Agatha, not even Teenager dressed as Maleficent. She reminds me of my grandmother's aunt, so my great great aunt, who was a carnival fortune teller for a number of years. She married and had kids with the littlest strongman. I see a lot of her in Lilia. I also see myself. At age nine, I became obsessed with divination, dream analysis, tarot cards, I Ching, and weird numerology games that were like the Magic 8 Ball but with math. I'm not here to talk about belief or disbelief, and I won't apologize for my origins.
I want to talk about divination as a concept. What is it really? What is the goal? Divination is an attempt to see through time. It's an effort to gain knowledge outside of time to better inform the present course of action. It's like incorporeal time travel. In episode seven, the ornate table on which the tarot cards are spread bears a hint carved into its side: Your path winds out of time.
Although it might seem like Lilia is experiencing flashbacks, she is actually moving through time. She is in her present predicament on the road. She is in her distant past as a young student conversing with her teacher. She can see the future from her distant past. The future being the resolution of her trial. She repeatedly shifts from the present to the past and back again. All of it is happening separately yet simultaneously.
"Which is it? Am I wispy or am I kooky?"
I'm not crying. I have a Jim Croce song stuck in my eye.

Spider Baby: or, the Maddest Story Ever Told (1967):
Almost twenty years have passed since the first time we watched Spider Baby, and we owe that occasion to Rob Zombie. I have a long list of horror movies that I came to know through his musical and cinematic endeavors. It was because Rob Zombie cast Sid Haig as Captain Spaulding in House of 1,000 Corpses (2003) that we rented this movie, and on another occasion, The Big Doll House (1971). As I recall, we came for Sid Haig but stayed for Jack Hill. A string of titles written and/or directed by Hill followed.
The story takes us for a macabre romp with the Merrye family. They live in a big house at the end of a dusty rural lane just outside of Los Angeles. The elder generations have passed away, and only the three Merrye children are left. The house and grounds, and the financial aspects of the estate are overseen by their caretaker Bruno (Lon Chaney Jr.), who served as the family chauffeur while their parents were still alive. Bruno dotes on the children as if they were his own. He tries with limited success to home school them and teach them proper etiquette. Not that there is much point in educating them. The entire Merrye family suffers from a rare disorder that causes them to mentally and physically regress. Their condition is so rare that it bears the family name. They seem fine when they're born. Sometime between puberty and adulthood, they begin to deteriorate.
The three children, Elizabeth (Beverly Washburn), Virginia (Jill Banner), and Ralph (Sid Haig) are at different levels of regression. The two young ladies can almost pass for normal. Just don't say anything disparaging about spiders around Virginia. Their older brother is much more feral and has the verbal skills of a toddler. Bruno manages them the best he can, having promised their father that he would never institutionalize them. The situation spirals out of control when a couple distant cousins and their lawyer barge in with the intent of placing the children in a mental institution and claiming the estate for themselves.
Karl Schanzer plays Schlocker the lawyer. His appearance and delivery reminded me of Mr. Spacely from The Jetsons. So much so that I would utter, "Spacely Sprockets!", whenever he entered a scene. Quinn K. Redeker plays the Merrye's cousin Peter. He also serves as a sort of narrator in special scenes that introduce and conclude the story. Redeker later achieved stardom in television soap operas. Mantan Moreland has a small role as the messenger who delivers the eviction notice.
I love Lon Chaney Jr. in this. He is the reason I could watch it again and again. It's late in his career and near the end of his life at a time when he was debilitated by alcoholism, yet his performance here has charisma and genuine warmth. He carries a lot among this cast of relative unknowns, and it's fun to watch him play the straight man to the horror.
A remake of Spider Baby was released in January of this year. Beverly Washburn has a role in it along with Ron Chaney who is Lon Chaney Jr.'s grandson. I have not seen it.

Grey Gardens (1975):
I came across Grey Gardens while casually browsing and thought I would watch a few minutes before setting off to do some such chore, but I quickly became immersed in it. I had heard of it but didn't really know the story.
It's an observational documentary that presents a fascinating and bittersweet portrait of a mother and daughter living in reclusive isolation in their squalid and crumbling East Hampton mansion. I would hard-pressed to come up with a better example of a perfect balance between endearing and batshit.
I don't know how much whatever mental issues the Beales might have had contributed to their abysmal and unsanitary living conditions. Those mental issues were undoubtedly exacerbated by isolation. People need people. Even introverted recluses need people.
Big Edie and Little Edie have each other but not much else. Their only regular visitor is young handyman whom Little Edie affectionately dubs "The Marble Faun". As we watch the elderly mother and adult daughter relationship dynamic play out, it's clear that life at Grey Gardens has been a hinderance to Little Edie in particular. She had been traveling and living on her own for a number of years before returning home. It's a constant point of contention between the two as to whether the reason for her return was to take care of her mother or to be taken of herself.
I had so many questions by the end. How were they surviving without running water? Was it shut off over non-payment, or was there a plumbing issue? Did Little Edie lose her hair to alopecia, or did she set it on fire? The biggest question of all: WTF is wrong with rich people?
I never paid much attention to the Bouvier-Kennedy clans, separately or merged. I heard just enough over the years to have an awareness of the rumors of mental illness that swirled around both. Edith Ewing Bouvier Beale and Edith Bouvier Beale were Jackie O's aunt and cousin. Although the family did step up to pay for just enough repair and renovation work to keep the house from being condemned not long before this documentary was made, where were they for the many years leading up to that? It's not like they couldn't afford it.
Maybe it's because rich people are hypersensitive about social stigma. For the rich, reputational damage is the worst thing in the world short of being poor. The further back in time one goes the more that applies. They're inclined to eschew traditional mental health facilities. Too public. Too scandalous. They prefer to hide away the disabled on their family trees like a squirrel burying nuts. In my view, these two ladies were given a raw deal, beginning with Phelan Beale who ran out on them, and everyone else all the way down the line, except The Marble Faun.
It was somewhat surprising to learn that this documentary has a cult following. It's the best of its kind that I have seen, but there has to be more to it than that. Maybe the draw is two staunch and eccentric women who lived on their own terms. People who have endured controlling parents of their own might find it validating and cathartic. I suppose there are also sideshow attraction gawkers in it for the schadenfreude, but I would like to think they are a minority of fans.
I have not seen Grey Gardens (2009) starring Jessica Lange and Drew Barrymore as Big Edie and Little Edie, respectively. Jerry "The Marble Faun" Torre released a memoir of his time with the Beales at Grey Gardens in 2018. He was also the subject of a documentary: The Marble Faun of Grey Gardens (2011).

City Hunter (2024):
I have seen Jackie Chan's City Hunter (1993), which I had completely forgotten until I began writing this entry. According to our DVD viewing history archive that we downloaded from Netflix in 2023, we saw the 1993 movie twelve years ago and rated it three out of five stars. That could mean we marginally liked it, or we didn't like it but gave Jackie Chan three stars. Even after looking it up, I remembered very little. A lot of action movies fit into the fun but forgettable category. That doesn't necessarily mean those movies are bad.
I thoroughly enjoyed City Hunter (2024). I'd rate it at least four stars if not five. I don't know how true it is to the original manga, but it's got the look and humor down pat. I loved Ryohei Suzuki as Ryo. His enthusiasm for the role really shows. It helps when an actor is also a fan. It's too bad Masanobu Andô couldn't have been in it longer. I really liked him as Hideyuki Makimura. I liked the contemporary story elements. One of the clients is a terminally online influencer/catgirl/cosplay model, which presents a certain set of challenges. Even though it's not my favorite genre, I would watch this again.

The Witches (Le streghe - 1967):
An anthology of five short films that loosely embody the theme. It's more about witchy behavior than actual witches. One actress, Silvana Mangano, stars in all five shorts by five different directors: Luchino Visconti, Mauro Bolognini, Pier Paolo Pasolini, Franco Rossi, and Vittorio De Sica.
The Earth Seen from the Moon directed by Pasolini and starring Totó, and Ninetto Davoli along with Mangano was the best in terms of pure comedy. I like Pasolini, and this episode came as a welcome splash of color and clownery after the first two. It's also the only story that deals with the supernatural.
The movie kicks off with The Witch Burned Alive directed by Visconti. As good as that initial episode was, I found it more depressing than amusing. These are supposed to be comedies. The very brief Civic Spirit directed by Bolognini follows. It's funny but also cynical and kind of mean-spirited. The next to last short The Sicilian Belle reminded me of a spaghetti Western, which is appropriate since the final of the five films stars Clint Eastwood. It's a nice lead-up to An Evening Like the Others. I liked the wild costumes that Mangano wears in the fantasy sequences, but I couldn't enjoy the subject matter. Again, it was too depressing.
The photo of Silvana Mangano in a full-length black vinyl dress with a matching headdress adorned with long spikes that most commonly comes up in search results for this movie is from that last episode. There is a misogynistic tinge to a few of these stories. As comedy goes, uneven is an understatement, but Pasolini's contribution makes it worthwhile.

Anweshippen Kandethum (2024):
This anticlimactic police procedural reminded me of The Pledge (2001) only less pessimistic. Tovino Thomas plays SI Anand Narayanan a stalwart and dedicated police officer with a gift for crime scene reconstruction. I enjoyed the investigative visualizations and flashbacks although they were a little disorienting at times. I think it could have been edited down to a two hour running time.
As the story begins, Anand is returning to work after serving a suspension for negligence stemming from a tragic incident that occurred while taking a murder suspect into custody. It is the lone blemish on his otherwise stellar record. The homicide investigation that led to the disciplinary action was greatly hindered by local religious tensions. The homicide investigation Anand is about to undertake will come up against class conflict and resentment over past police brutality. No sooner is his professional reputation restored than he risks it all again in a quest for justice.

The Velvet Vampire (1971):
I know I seem like someone who pulls obscure B-grade vampire movies out of their ass, but I had not heard of this one until we did a free trial of Criterion's streaming service for Halloween.
Diane (Celeste Yarnall) shamelessly seduces Lee (Michael Blodgett) and Susan (Sherry Miles) at a crowded art show in Los Angeles. She then invites the too sun-kissed (practically deep fried) couple to spend the weekend at her estate, conveniently located out in the middle of the desert. It's a next gas station or anything else fifty miles away kind of neighborhood. The posh, modern style house features a hidden voyeur booth with a great view of the guest bedroom. The expansive grounds include a private cemetery and a dilapidated, bat-infested mine surrounded by miles and miles of sand dunes.
In the daytime, Diane takes them for joyrides in her dune buggy. At night, they enjoy sexual innuendo laden dinner conversation and too much wine. While they sleep, the couple has a shared dream that looks almost exactly like the music video for Fleetwood Mac's Hold Me only without the band in it.
Beware of too hot to be true unicorns who remain pale despite heavy sun exposure.

New Zoo Revue (1972-1977):
There was a dark chapter of my very early childhood that I had managed to blot out of my mind completely, and it was this show. The horror was unearthed upon reading its name in Chuck Woolery's obituary. Not that I was a fan of his. The only thing I have to say about him is that it's a shame he tainted his legacy the way he did. Oddly, his character Mr. Dingle was all I could remember at first. That led to finding episodes on YouTube.
Finding them was easy. Watching them was hard. New Zoo Revue was already ten years old by the time I saw it when I was a toddler. The zoo part consists of a prissy hippo, a frog who wrecks stuff, and a grumpy owl who just wants to be left alone in his science lab.
Of the twenty or so episodes available, I was unable to get through a single one in its entirety. I felt like I took psychic damage. I skimmed through the YouTube episodes looking for Mr. Dingle the mailman, but he was nowhere to be found. What I got was a lesson on the perils of nostalgia.
The human hosts, Doug and Emmy Jo, were a married couple in real life. I'm sure they're lovely people. I don't recommend it, but count how many episodes they spend painting the gazebo. This show might have been the Teletubbies of its time, but it creeped me out terribly when I was kid, although I did like Charlie the owl.