#foreign film noir posters

[filmnoirfoundation]

The TCM Classic Film Festival opens tonight! Our pick, SHADOW OF A DOUBT, discussion with actor John Hawkes (WINTER'S BONE, LIFE OF CRIME) beforehand.   7:00 pm - 9:00 pm | Thursday, April 13, Chinese Multiplex House 1. SHADOW OF A DOUBT (1943): A young girl (Teresa Wright) fears her favorite uncle may be a killer, Joseph Cotten in the best performance of his career. “Do you know the world is a foul sty? Do you know, if you rip off the fronts of houses, you'd find swine? The world's a hell. What does it matter what happens in it?”  Dir. Alfred Hitchcock

[theaskew]

[noirgasmweetheart]

Who's the little man in the fedora? He looks like a Tuvix of Wilmer and Cairo.

[project1939]

Day 68- Film: The Thief 

Release date: October 15th, 1952. 

Studio: United Artists 

Genre: Noir 

Director: Russell Rouse 

Producer: Clarence Greene 

Actors: Ray Milland 

Plot Summary: Allan Fields, a highly regarded nuclear physicist working for the US Atomic Energy Commission, has been providing a foreign power top secret information about nuclear bombs. When a messenger agent is hit by a car and killed, the authorities find microfilm in his hand and work backwards to find the spy. Fields needs help fleeing before it’s too late. 

My Rating (out of five stars): ***1/2

The Good: 

The sheer audacity of the filmmakers to try this. Making a dialogue free 85-minute film in Hollywood with an Oscar winning star takes a lot of courage. Even today this would be tremendously risky. 

The result of that audacity. This is a fascinating film, even though it is not perfect. It’s like watching an experiment play out right in front of you. Some things work, some things don’t, some things work in ways you don’t expect, etc. 

The score. Without any spoken words, we were most dependent on the faces of the actors and the score to orient and direct us. Occasionally the score got too melodramatic for me, but most of the time it was very effective. It especially helped us understand whatever emotion Milland was feeling. 

The editing. There's a scene in the office of a colleague of Milland’s that especially comes to mind. He is taking pictures of secret documents when he realizes his colleague is heading toward the office. Milland crouches behind a chair, realizing he left his mini-camera on the desk. The entire scene was Hitchcockian, but the editing in particular was near perfection.  

Ray Milland. Even though he had no dialogue to memorize, he had a lot of work to do in this film. He had to do most of the heavy-lifting when it came to the storytelling. He’s got a great sympathetic Everyman quality to his face. Even here, while playing a bad guy, you always felt at least a little sympathy for him. The way he communicated anxiety and mental torture was especially moving. 

The casting. Everyone in this looked like normal people you would pass by on the street and not think about. 

All the location shooting. There was extensive location shooting in New York city, and it looked fabulous. Even the shots from the observation deck on the Empire State Building were real. There’s that old cliché about a location being a character itself in a film or novel- well this was one of the most beautiful and interesting characters in the movie. 

The circular library that was a meeting point between Milland and a co-conspirator. The building was extremely visually interesting itself, but the filmmakers were masters at exploiting it for tension and drama. 

Not knowing the whole thing was totally without dialogue before I watched it. I hadn’t looked closely at the poster or the description of the film, so I had no idea. At about 10 minutes, I started writing in my notes that there was no spoken dialogue. The film nerd in me was thrilled, but I kept waiting for the moment when the first line would be spoken. My notes were filled with things like “25 minutes, still no dialogue!” “45 minutes in, STILL none! Half of the movie!” By the time it got about ¾ through, I started wondering if it would be totally silent, or there might be some kind of kicker at the end. That alone added to the suspense. 

The Bad: 

Lack of character development. With only visuals we lack a lot of information about the protagonist. We know he’s a nuclear physicist and a baddie, but little else. We don’t know why he started spying, what his political ideaology was, what motivated him. We don’t get any flashbacks or background information on him. It would have been easier to care about him if we had any of that information. Without it, I cared mostly from an experimental standpoint and because I like Milland as an actor. 

Lack of details about the country/people he is spying for. Not only do we lack information about Milland’s character, we don’t even know who he is spying for. It's some kind of Soviet contact, but we know virtually nothing in that regard. It wasn’t essential that we know it, (in The Atomic City, I don’t think we knew the specific country, either) but it would have been nice to have at least a little more information.

[faultyprojectorrecommends]

Nikita (Luc Besson, 1990)

[johngarfieldtribute]

ART IS UNIVERSAL! (18th post on foreign movie posters)

This interesting design above is from a German movie poster for Julie and Lana Turner’s THE POSTMAN ALWAYS RINGS TWICE. The title translates to something like: In the Web of Passion which is certainty a bit more telling.

Here’s a U.S. version of the poster.

The poster from Italy translates similarly to the U.S. title.

Another from Italy is above.

The poster from France also keeps the title but raises the look up a notch!

Wow! NOT messin’ around! Another version in French from Belgium above.

Above is a poster used in China. The art takes an approach of a criminal “WANTED” poster.

Oh boy! Never before found a Japanese version for these studies on International movie posters for Julie’s films. This is from the DVD.

How about this 2008 ad for a Portland noir night? Swell! 😀 Mother’s seems like a fun joint!

Italy filmed OSSESSIONE, a version of James M. Cain’s novel a couple year’s earlier than the U.S. movie. A poster is shown above in PASSION PURPLE!

[tcm]

Pedro Almodóvar: The Classic Movie Fan By Raquel Stecher

Spanish director Pedro Almodóvar is one of the most celebrated filmmakers working today. His bold films feature quirky characters, vibrant colors, especially shades of red, and offer viewers frank explorations on sexuality, identity, family and relationships. Almodóvar is involved in every aspect of the filmmaking process including writing, directing and casting, and he has input in other aspects including set design, costumes and cinematography. His films are uniquely his vision.

Almodóvar has a lifelong love of film and it shows in his work. In his early days he was influenced by the work of the great Spanish directors Luis Buñuel and Luis García Berlanga. He also drew inspiration from directors like Billy Wilder, Alfred Hitchcock, Orson Welles, Elia Kazan, Fritz Lang, Ingmar Bergman, Michael Antonini, Francois Truffaut and many others. Almodóvar was mostly self-taught and learned filmmaking from watching the masters. The characters in Almodóvar’s films are extensions of himself; they too are moviegoers who love and appreciate the art form. You can see this in subtle clues in his films, like posters on a wall, DVDs stacked on a table or what the characters are watching on television. Then there are the more obvious examples including classic film clips and homages to iconic movie scenes. And for classic movie fans, watching Almodóvar’s films can be like a fun treasure hunt seeking out all the references to familiar favorites.

In Almodóvar’s early works, a well-placed poster can illuminate an aspect of the character’s personality. For example, in KIKA (’93), a deranged psychologist has classic horror movie posters in her apartment including from THE SADIST (’63) and CIRCUS OF HORRORS (’60). Almodóvar was particularly inspired by classic movies with strong female leads. In his early film PEPI, LUCI, BOM AND OTHER GIRLS LIKE MOM (’80), Almodóvar took inspiration from George Cukor’s THE WOMEN (’39) to tell the story of a trio of women living during the cultural revolution of Madrid called La Movida Madrileña. 

ALL ABOUT MY MOTHER‘s (’99) title comes from Bette Davis’ comeback classic ALL ABOUT EVE (’50). In the very first scene, a mother and son sit down to watch the film on television. It’s announced in Spanish as “Eve Unveiled,” something the characters discuss because the title should have been “Todo Sobre Eva”. Later, in the film, we see a Davis poster pinned to a dressing room wall and the film ends with a note celebrating actresses and mothers and noting Davis, Gena Rowlands and Romy Schneider. Classic actresses come to the forefront in BROKEN EMBRACES (2009) where Penelope Cruz is the mistress of a wealthy magnate who dreams of becoming a star. When she gets the plum role of lead actress in a feature film, she’s made over several times to look like Goldie Hawn, Marilyn Monroe and Audrey Hepburn.

One of Almodóvar’s most celebrated works, WOMEN ON THE VERGE OF A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN (’88), starts with a scene from JOHNNY GUITAR (’54). Two actors are dubbing Joan Crawford and Sterling Hayden in Spanish. We learn that the actors, much like Hayden and Crawford in the film, have a tempestuous relationship. Almodóvar’s film got the attention of American audiences and earned a nomination for Best Foreign Language Film. And perhaps more importantly for Almodóvar, it got him a meeting with his hero Billy Wilder who greatly admired the up-and-coming filmmaker’s work. In this film, Almodóvar also pays tribute to one of his favorite directors: Alfred Hitchcock. In one scene, Carmen Maura sits on a park bench and watches a young woman dancing alone in her apartment, a clear reference to Miss Torso from REAR WINDOW (’54). In KIKA, a voyeur with a long-focus lens witnesses a crime being perpetrated against a woman, much like Jimmy Stewart in Hitchcock’s film.

As Almodóvar’s films became more and more autobiographical, he began to add more clues to his lifelong love of cinema. Characters are often seen watching some of Almodóvar’s favorite films on television. In VOLVER (2006), a dead mother returns to her community and watches BELLISSIMA (’51) while caring for a dying woman. In TIE ME UP! TIE ME DOWN! (’89), Antonio Banderas kidnaps Victoria Abril, ties her up and leaves her to watch NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD (’68). Movie watching becomes an important plot device in later films. In BAD EDUCATION (2004), Gael Garcia Bernal and Lluis Homar have just committed a crime and attend a film noir festival to decompress and create an alibi for their whereabouts. As they leave the cinema, Homar says, “it’s as if the films were talking about us” and the camera pauses on three posters: DOUBLE INDEMNITY (’44), LA BETE HUMAINE (’38) and THERESE RAQUIN (’53).

In his most autobiographical film to date, PAIN AND GLORY (2019), Almodóvar shares his journey in becoming a filmmaker, his early love of classic film and his struggles with the creative process. The young Salvador, played by Asier Flores, collects classic film star cards in a beautiful scrapbook. His collection includes Betty Hutton, Piper Laurie, Loretta Young, Donna Reed, Kirk Douglas, Tyrone Power and Robert Taylor. In the present, filmmaker Salvador, played by Antonio Banderas, is working on a screenplay called La Addiccion. His actor Alberto plays out the scenes, where he projects SPLENDOR IN THE GRASS (’61) and NIAGARA (’53) on a screen and shares a soliloquy about watching water-themed movies as a child. And at the cinema where the filmmaker’s latest film is being screened, the audience can spot a poster of THE EXECUTIONER (’63), which is one of Almodovar’s favorite films.

There is something gratifying about watching a movie made by someone who truly loves and appreciates classic film. Pedro Almodóvar’s work is incredibly contemporary but extends an invitation to those of us who love the old in order to embrace the new.

[themurphyzone]

104 Words for 104 Days: Lemonade

It’s Candace appreciation hours! I wanted to do a Candace and Vanessa conversation because of CATU. 

Jeremy looked so cute in his Slushy Dawg uniform. Well, he looked cute in any outfit, but the Slushy Dawg hat just added an extra layer of adorableness. Candace snapped a photo on her phone while Jeremy took a customer’s order, ducking behind the wall against her table before he could look up.

“Total keeper,” Candace giggled, unable to stop the high-pitched squeal that made people stop and stare like they’d never seen a teenage girl in love before. “The sunlight bounces off his hair perfectly in this one.”

She raised her phone again as Jeremy bagged several hot dogs, all wrapped neatly in tin foil. No wonder every Slushy Dawg manager in Danville and Mt. Rushmore fought over him. He was the best guy for the job with that award-winning smile.

“Hey, Candace. What’s up?”

Candace shrieked, slapping her hand against her mouth and almost losing her grip on her precious phone. She whirled around, her knee banging painfully on the table rim. Luckily for her, Jeremy was too busy to notice.  

Vanessa was holding two medium-sized cups of lemonade, a purse and small wallet tucked in an awkward position under her arm. Despite that, Vanessa just radiated casualness.

Caught by the coolest and most mature girl she’d ever known. Candace mentally apologized to Stacy, wondering if she was breaking some BFF-practically sisters code for even thinking that way.

Candace leaned against the table, propping her head up with her elbow. “Yo, Vanessa. ‘Sup with you?”

She cringed as soon as the words left her mouth. Maybe that was too casual.  

“My dad’s scheme involves chicken and waffles, so I got out of there before he could make the entire place smell like poultry,” Vanessa said, thankfully not commenting on Candace’s failed attempt at casualness and making things more awkward. “Mind if I join you for a while? I’ve got time to kill and a spare cup of lemonade here.”

“Sure thing! I’m just waiting for Jeremy’s shift to end. Then we’re going out for dunch. It’s like brunch, but it’s a cross between lunch and dinner,” Candace said as Vanessa settled on the opposite side of the table. Vanessa set the cups on the table, sliding the spare lemonade and a wrapped straw to Candace. She tucked her wallet into the purse, setting them in the space between her and the wall. Even Vanessa’s purse was goth with purple highlights. Just enough to get the point across without being overly edgy.

“That’s nice,” Vanessa said.

Candace glanced at the rest of the packed food court. She prided herself on people-watching, but she didn’t see anyone who looked like they’d hang out in the same clique as Vanessa. “So why do you have two lemonades anyway? I mean, it’s a great drink but-“

“-you thought I was a black-coffee-just-like-my-soul kind of person?” Vanessa finished. There was a tiny mischievous smirk on the corner of her lips.

Candace laughed, maybe a little too loudly. She caught herself just in time. “HA! I mean…no way! I would’ve totally pegged you for the latte type! Cause lattes are cool! And trendy! And hip! And…I’m gonna stop talking now.”

To her surprise, Vanessa laughed. “Joke’s on you. I prefer cappuccinos.”

“That was my second guess.” Candace covered her lie with a long sip of lemonade.

Please don’t call me out on not knowing the difference between lattes and cappuccinos. Please don’t call me out on not knowing the difference between lattes and cappuccinos…

“Anyway, there’s a new lemonade kiosk and I was thirsty,” Vanessa said. “Buy One, Get One Free deal this week to celebrate the grand opening. Tried telling the cashier I was by myself, but he insisted on giving me the extra cup because he didn’t want the owner-slash-mascot to accuse him of stealing corporate secrets for the orange juice empire, whatever that means.”

“Owner-slash-mascot?” Candace echoed.

Vanessa pointed behind Candace. Shrieks erupted from several families as a large man wearing a hat decked out with lemons jumped onto their table, disregarding the half-eaten burgers and fries. Whatever lunch was left was quickly snatched away before the man trampled them underfoot.

“BOO-YAH LEMONADE IS IN BUSINESS, BABY!” he screeched, pumping his fists into the air and being oblivious to the crowd’s general annoyance. “GET ‘EM WHILE THEY’RE COLD AND FRESH! LEMONADE RULES, ORANGE JUICE DROOLS!”

“Mall security team to food court! Code Yellow! The owner-slash-mascot of Boo-Yah Lemonade is being annoying again! I repeat, Code Yellow!”

As a mall security team thundered up the escalator, the man leapt off the table and shoved people aside in his hurry to get away.

“I’M A PUBLIC NUISANCE FOR THE GLORY OF LEMONADE!” his voice faded away as he ran into the nearest department store. The crowd parted to let the mall security team through, then went back to their regular weekend at the mall schedules as if nothing had ever happened.

Vanessa swirled her lemonade with her straw. She was probably too used to craziness to be affected much. “So have you watched any of my DVDs yet? Have you gotten to Le Coeur Noir De Douleur et de la Tristesse Douce?”

“Is the goat head supposed to visually indicate the woman’s headstrong nature?” Candace asked. She wasn’t mentioning that she couldn’t pronounce the foreign film titles at all.

Vanessa shrugged. “I thought it represented her childhood on the farm before the loan shark took away the goats as payment for her father’s debt, but your guess is pretty good too.”

“Real art is so confusing,” Candace admitted.

“Yeah, but that’s why it’s so fun,” Vanessa said.

Then Irving passed by their table, holding several large posters with two very familiar faces printed on them. Candace snatched a poster from the top of the stack, startling Irving into dropping the rest.

“Hey, what gives?” Irving grumbled, but Candace and Vanessa ignored his protests.

The poster featured her brothers, an elaborate outdoor battle arena as the bustworthy project of the day, and their backyard as the location. The three prerequisites to any bust.

Dunch would have to wait. It was busting time now.  

“Could you tell Jeremy I need to go bust my brothers? He’ll understand,” Candace asked. She tried to fold the poster for easy carrying, but it was too large for her purse and her skirt lacked pockets. Then she crushed her empty lemonade cup and dropped it into the garbage can. “I’ll come back when I’m done.”

“Alright. Nice hanging out with you.” Vanessa waved, and Candace almost tumbled down the escalator in her haste to return the gesture, keep the poster from being ripped, and call her mom at the same time.

But she managed to speed-dial her mom, cackling maniacally as she tore through the mall and weaved around shoppers, only managing to lose a third of the poster in the process.

“MOM! PHINEAS AND FERB ARE HOSTING A HOLOGRAPHIC BATTLE ROYALE BETWEEN ALL FOUR PLAYING CARD SUITS!”

o-o-o-o-o

Vanessa walked up to Slushy Dawg once the line of customers thinned. Jeremy wiped a spot on the counter, smiling brightly before she even got to the register.

She could see why Candace was so enamored with him. Jeremy was either a really good actor or just oddly calm when it came to retail. No wonder Candace felt comfortable enough to push back the time on short notice.

She never could’ve done that with Johnny, and she and Monty needed to coordinate timing on their dates to avoid parental outrage.

“Welcome to Slushy Dawg! May I take your order?” Jeremy asked.

Vanessa shook her head. Slushy Dawg would never get any better, but she kept that comment to herself. “I’m not ordering. Just here on Candace’s behalf. She’ll meet you for dunch once she’s finished busting her brothers.”

Jeremy chuckled. “That’s Candace for you.”

“She’s really running all the way to the suburbs?”

“Candace has a lot of endurance.”

“That’s really cool,” Vanessa said.  

“I know, right?” Jeremy beamed.

Candace was so lucky to have an understanding boyfriend. It was definitely a breath of fresh air from what she usually dealt with.

[mexcine]

La foire aux chimères [Carnival of Illusions] (1946) review: La foire aux chimères (literally, "The Fair of Chimeras," also known as Devil and the Angel), turned out to be something different than I expected (having only read a one-sentence description).  I'd imagined it was going to be a film noir about a middle-aged man whose love for a younger woman causes him to turn to crime and eventually lose his life--and all of this is true, except it's less of a film noir-crime thriller than it is a romantic melodrama.  It's a matter of tone and emphasis.  It’s still an excellent film, though.

        La foire aux chimères is set in Paris, apparently in the post-war period (although I suppose it could be taking place in the immediate pre-war era)--there are no references to World War II at all. Von Stroheim's character "Frank Davis" is clearly a foreigner, and early in the film his supposed accent is mocked by his fellow workers (even someone who doesn't speak French, like me, can tell he's not a native speaker: while he is apparently perfectly fluent, he just doesn't sound the same as the other characters).  Frank's nationality and background are not explained at all--even his scarred face is attributed only to "an explosion," but when and where that happened is not elaborated upon.  

     Frank Davis is the chief engraver at a large bank (which also creates money for foreign countries); one side of his face is badly scarred from an accident.  Frank is a stern task-master and perfectionist who says the banknotes he creates are forgery-proof.  On the night of his 50th birthday (von Stroheim was actually 61 when the film was made), the lonely Frank visits a carnival and wins a doll.  He is surprised to see an attractive young woman with a goat on a leash: she is Jeanne, the "Angel" in a knife-throwing act at the circus, and is blind (it’s a seeing-eye goat).  Frank and Jeanne chat and he promises to come see her act.  At home, Frank is greeted by his middle-aged housekeeper Marie-Louise, who has baked him a birthday cake. 

     Frank returns to the carnival the next night, but the weather is bad and the circus decides not to perform.  Frank buys up enough tickets to justify a performance, and sees Robert--dressed as the Devil--throw knives at Jeanne.  Afterwards, Frank visits Robert, his girlfriend Clara, and Jeanne in their trailer.  Money changes hands, and Frank leaves with Jeanne, who will become his wife.

    Six months pass.  Frank and Jeanne live in a large mansion, complete with butler (Marie-Louise has also come along, at Jeanne's request).  However, Frank has been borrowing money to finance their luxurious lifestyle. Lenoir, a disgruntled employee of Frank's bank, urges Frank to visit Furet's nightclub/casino: Furet intends to force the indebted Frank to cooperate in a counterfeiting scheme.  However, Frank stuns Furet by handing over a check for the full amount owed, and Furet suspects Frank has gone into the counterfeiting business on his own (and he has!).

     However, when the police visit Frank to ask his expert advice on counterfeit money recently discovered, Frank panics and tosses the printing plates into the river--Furet witnesses this, and blackmails Frank into resuming his criminal activities, but as part of a larger gang.  As more and more counterfeit banknotes circulate, Frank plays a double game, allegedly helping the police while creating the false bills at the same time.  Lenoir is arrested but Furet has him poisoned in prison so he can’t implicate the others in the gang. 

     Jeanne, unaware of the reason for Frank's frequent absences, fears he's having an affair and undergoes surgery to restore her sight. However, Marie-Louise warns her that Frank will be devastated if Jeanne shows pity when she sees her husband's scarred face.  Jeanne pretends to still be blind, but her relationship with Frank changes.  Jeanne and Marie-Louise visit the carnival, and discover Robert has given up his act because he can't find a replacement forJeanne.

     Learning Robert and his friend Doudou are giving up show business and intend to become sailors, Jeanne meets Robert in a café; he declares his love for her and asserts that she loves him in return, but she refuses to leave Frank.  He says he'll be on the midnight train, with or without her.

      Back home, Jeanne is confronted by Frank, who accuses her of deceiving him about her vision and of having an affair with Robert. She denies this, but when Frank continues to heap abuse upon her, Jeanne flees.  Frank follows, but loses her in the dark streets.  He goes instead to Furet's club, where he shoots the man in his office, then calls the police and starts a fire to destroy the counterfeit bills in the safe. When the police arrive, Frank does a deliberate back-flip off the balcony and falls to his death.

      As the film concludes, Robert and Jeanne are performing their "Devil and Angel" knife-throwing act, this time in a large theatre in front of an appreciative audience.

      La foire aux chimères is generally well-produced and -directed, but isn't especially stylish until the final 7-8 minutes, when it goes completely off the rails (most of it is shot in extreme dutch-tilt), in a good way.  Von Stroheim throws restraint to the winds, first angrily berating Jeanne, then chasing after her in remorse, and finally attacking Furet.  As he tosses the false bills around Furet's office, he shouts--perfectionist to the end-- "I hate this paper!"  

     The climax of the film is even more powerful because prior to this point Frank Davis has been extremely restrained: even his response to a cruel joke played by his co-workers (putting flies in his mashed potatoes) is cutting but calm.  Frank is proud of his skill in creating banknotes and is respected as an expert, but his personal life is barren.  His relationship with Jeanne is problematical: he essentially purchases her from Robert, marries her, and gives her a life of luxury (none of which she requests, but none of which she rejects, either).  A telling moment occurs when Frank learns Jeanne has undergone surgery to restore her sight: he goes into the hospital chapel to pray, and while we aren't privy to what he is praying for, one can only imagine it is for the operation to have been a failure (the best-case scenario would be for him to ask that Jeanne regain her eyesight but continue to love him), given his reaction when she says she's still blind. 

     The film generally presents a positive image of Jeanne, but upon closer examination her character is perhaps not as "angelic" as one might first think.  She is a passive character for most of the film--as noted above, Frank is the one who takes her away from the circus life, marries her, and installs her in a grand mansion.  She only takes an active role when she fears Frank is losing interest in her; she then secretly arranges to have an eye operation, believing her disability has turned him against her (this feels a bit odd: one would imagine that Jeanne would have sought out this operation earlier for her own sake, since she has no idea that regaining her sight would make her less attractive to her husband).  Even though she subsequently finds herself repulsed by Frank's appearance and admits (to herself) her love for Robert, Jeanne is willing to stay with Frank--out of gratitude, one assumes--but he rejects her.

      However, there are hints that Jeanne is not perfect.  After attending the circus as the only person in the audience, Frank visits the trailer where Robert, Clara and Jeanne live.  Robert suspects the "wealthy" patron is in love with Clara (a bareback rider) and is jealous (it's stated quite early that he and Jeanne do not have a romantic relationship), but Jeanne rather smugly says she knows it's Frank, keeping his promise  (made only the night before) to watch her perform.  Jeanne readily jettisons her role in Robert's act and her "home" to go with Frank, and accepts the new life he offers her without a second thought. After she regains her eyesight, Jeanne treats Frank in a significantly different manner.  It's possible this is solely the result of his facial scars (and the age difference), but it seems more likely that a contributing factor is Jeanne's new freedom and independence: she no longer needs Frank, and while she's not immediately disposed to leave him, her world has suddenly expanded. 

     Jeanne and Marie-Louise visit the carnival--Jeanne dislikes the tawdry world she left, now that she can actually see it--and discover Robert and Clara have broken up.  Jeanne spots an old poster of the "Devil and Angel" act and--seeing Robert for the first time--remarks about how handsome he is.  Later, Robert sends his friend Doudou to Jeanne with a  parting gift: the "wings" from her costume.  She meets Robert in a café and they admit their love for one another.  All that prevents Jeanne from running off with him right then is her gratitude to Frank--in a true film noir, Jeanne would probably steal money from Frank and flee, so at least she's not a completely evil femme fatale here.  Nonetheless, if Frank had never met Jeanne, or if at any point she'd balked at Frank's controlling ways, Frank would have not become a counterfeiter and murderer and a suicide. 

     While Frank and Jeanne get the most screen time and character development, La foire aux chimères gives its supporting characters some attention.  Furet is suave and likes to quote poetry (even as he's dying); Lenoir, although a minor, nasty character, is even given a girlfriend (who works for Furet and inadvertently delivers poisoned chocolates to Lenoir in prison).  Marie-Louise is introduced as a stereotypical stern housekeeper, but she goes to the trouble of baking Frank a birthday cake so perhaps she has a soft spot for him; when Frank brings Jeanne home, Marie-Louise thinks she's a whore, but winds up becoming Jeanne's friend and confidant.  Robert tries to replace Jeanne but the new candidates for "human target" are unsatisfactory; he argues with Clara and finally realises he loved Jeanne and made a mistake by allowing Frank to take her away. 

     The performances are all quite satisfactory.  Von Stroheim is a sympathetic character throughout, although hardly a downtrodden "poor soul"--he's lonely but not pitiful. When he first arrives at the carnival, Frank stops in a café for a glass of wine; two young women come in, and Frank buys them champagne.  They gaily accept, but hurriedly make their excuses to leave when they see the “ruined” side of his face. Frank smiles ruefully as they go: this has happened before.

      Frank perverts his engraver’s "art"--his pride and joy, even his reason for living--in an attempt to win Jeanne's love (which he appears to have, but not because he's given her a mansion and furs), then becomes infuriated when he thinks he's been betrayed.  Von Stroheim is excellent: while many have an image of him as just a shaven-headed villain, in fact this is chiefly a function of his Hollywood appearances--a number of his film roles (especially in France) were sympathetic, in whole or part (La Grand Illusion, to name just one, or Macao, l’enfer de jeu, one of my favourite von Stroheim movies).  

     Madeleine Sologne, of whom I knew little prior to this film (although she had a decent career), has a rather hard (while not unattractive) face, but towards the end of the film she somehow becomes more beautiful, perhaps because she's more animated and real when she "regains" her sight.  

      La foire aux chimères is a very fine film.  The plot is predictable but also tosses in a twist or two; however, the strengths of the picture are in the performances, the direction, the photography and general mise-en-scene, all of which are top-notch.  Well worth watching. 

[brokehorrorfan]

Blu-ray Review: The Fly Collection

David Cronenberg's The Fly is commonly cited as a remake that is superior to the original; an assertion that's difficult to argue, but both films are effective mashups of science fiction and horror for their time. In fact, the Fly franchise - the 1958 original, its two sequels, the remake, and its sequel - is quite good as a whole. Scream Factory has collected them all on Blu-ray in a box set dubbed The Fly Collection.

Each of the five films is housed in an individual Blu-ray case with original poster art, all of which are packaged inside a rigid slipcover case featuring new artwork. 20th Century Fox's existing high definition transfers have been utilized, and each presentation is crisp and clear. The movies are accompanied by a variety of newly-produced special features along with archival extras to make viewers buzz with excitement.

The Fly begins with an atypical murder-mystery, in which the mystery is not a whodunit but rather a whydunit. Helene Delambre (Patricia Owens, Sayonara) immediately confesses to killing her husband, scientist Andre Delambre (David Hedison, Live and Let Die), via hydraulic press - first to her husband's brother, Francois (Vincent Price, House on Haunted Hill), and then to the detective on the case, Inspector Charas (Herbert Marshall, Foreign Correspondent), - but she refuses to say why.

The slow build pays off with a dramatic reveal toward the end of an extended flashback sequence that makes up the film's second act. Andre invented a light-speed teleportation device, the disintegrator-integrator, that he eventually went through himself, only to have a pesky fly unknowingly join him. The result is a disquieting hybrid with a human body topped by a fly's head, revealed in an iconic shot that harkens back to the climax of The Phantom of the Opera.

The creature is ingrained in pop culture, but it's easy to imagine audiences in 1958 being shocked by the dramatic reveal. The theatrical trailer smartly features Vincent Price addressing the audience directly, teasing the "unearthly horror" without revealing anything. The special effects may be schlocky by modern standards, but the overall concept - based on the 1957 short story of the same name by George Langelaan - holds up quite well.

The Fly is directed by Kurt Neumann (Rocketship X-M) and written by James Clavell (The Great Escape), marking his only foray into genre pictures. Neumann died under mysterious circumstances shortly before the film's release, missing its commercial success as one of Fox's biggest hits of the year. Shot in CinemaScope with Color by Deluxe, the picture features cinematography by Karl Struss (The Great Dictator) that makes the laboratory's sleek production design pop.

The Fly's Blu-ray disc has two audio commentaries. The first is a new track featuring filmmakers/historians Steve Haberman (co-writer of Dracula: Dead and Loving It) and Constantine Nasr. It's educational but far more casual than the average historian commentary, and much better for it. The second is a light, cheery track with Hedison circa 2008. His memory is sharp, and he proudly discusses playing his character for the duration, including when his face is obscured by a cloth and, later, the fly mask.

Fly Trap: Catching a Classic is ported over from the 2007 DVD. The making-of featurette includes Hedison, Haberman, David Frankham, Tony Timpone, Donald F. Glut, and more, and even touches on the sequels, but at 11 minutes, it's only able to scratch the surface. A 1997 episode of Biography on Vincent Price features interviews with the likes of Roger Corman, Dennis Hopper, Roddy McDowall, Hazel Court, Norman Lloyd, and daughter Victoria Price. Extras are rounded out by a brief Fox Movietone News segment about movie monsters attending the film's premiere, along with the aforementioned trailer.

Fox was quick to capitalize on the success of The Fly with a sequel, Return of the Fly, released in 1959. This was a time when sequels were not the norm, mind you, so the budget is noticeably smaller. It was shot in a mere 10 days and recycles sets from the first film. CinemaScope was utlized agan but this time in black and white, which feels like a regression yet also lends itself to a film noir atmosphere. It greatly pales in comparison to its predecessor, naturally, but it fares rather well for a rushed, cheap followup.

Price is the only original cast member to reprise his role, although several other characters return to be played by different actors. Well on his way to genre stardom, thanks in no small part to The Fly, Price receives top billing this time around; although he's still not really the main character. That honor goes to Brett Halsey (The Devil's Honey) as Philippe Delambre, the now-adult son of Andre who wishes to continue his father's mysterious work, against Francois' wishes.

Despite Andre's attempts to destroy all traces of his research in the previous film, Philippe is able to successfully recreate the disintegrator-integrator with the assistance of his father's former associate, Alan Hinds (David Frankham, 101 Dalmatians). Hinds, however, is a dastardly double-crosser out to sabotage Philippe for his own gain. He ultimately causes Philippe to suffer the same fate as his father, turning him into a mutant fly creature.

Writer-director Edward Bernds (World Without End) rehashes a lot for the sequel, but there are some interesting twists. While the original story's creature largely garnered sympathy between shocks, the sequel's creature is a victim that's out for revenge. It's occasionally played for scares, although the mask - oversized and cheesy compared to the original - isn't nearly as effective this time around, but the viewer is rooting for, rather than sympathizing with, the monster as a hero.

Return of the Fly's Blu-ray disc boasts three audio commentaries, two of which are new. Frankham showcases a miraculously good memory for a 93-year-old, citing events from 50 years prior with ease. He's joined by friend/actor Jonathan David Dixon, who facilitates the conversation and fills in the blanks as needed. The actor's sweet demeanor and impressive recollection caused me to add his 2012 autobiography, Which One Was David?, to my to-read list.

Film historian/author Tom Weaver's new commentary is informative yet feels conversational; a welcome change of pace from the typically dry solo historian track. The third commentary is an archival session with Halsey and film historian/journalist David Del Valle. It may not be the most enlightening listen, as Halsey's memory isn't as strong as Frankham's, but it's enjoyable enough. Other special features include the theatrical trailer, a TV spot, and a still gallery.

The diminishing budget and resources between The Fly and Return of the Fly pales in comparison to the decline from Return to Curse of the Fly. Released in 1965, the third and final entry in the original series was produced in the United Kingdom. With Price unable to return, as he was under an iron-clad contract with American International Pictures, a new story was conceived. The go-for-broke sequel extends the mythology but distorts the familial lineage, and there's no fly this time around.

Taking another jump into the near future, the film opens with a woman, who we later come to know as Patricia Stanley (Carole Gray, Island of Terror), running away from a mental institution in her underwear. The slow motion sequence is more likely to be mistaken for a Roger Corman exploitation picture rather than identified as a studio sequel. Patricia runs into Andre Delambre's grandson, Martin (The Spy Who Loved Me), and the two quickly fall for one another despite their respective sordid pasts.

Beyond the opening attempt at titillation, this is a slow burner that's decidedly less familiar than its predecessor. Martin and his father, Henri (Brian Donlevy, The Quatermass Xperiment), have continued to make advancements using the technology developed by Andre. They have successfully teleported between Quebec and London with terrible consequences; deformed experiments gone wrong are kept locked away like prisoners. A grotesque effect in the last act is a fitting precursor to the remake.

Director Don Sharp (The Kiss of the Vampire) and writer Harry Spalding (The Watcher in the Woods) present an interesting moral quandary. Once again shot in CinemaScope black and white, the picture has a bit of a Gothic horror atmosphere. It's never fully harnessed, but the plot flirts with Patricia's descent into madness. An ill-advised Caucasian actress (Yvette Rees) playing an Asian role - with obvious fake eyelids to change the shape of her eyes - is a harsh reminder of racist practices in Hollywood.

Curse of the Fly's Blu-ray disc kicks off with an audio commentary with Haberman and Nasr, who once again provide a thorough, analytical look at the film, making a compelling argument for it being superior to Return. In new interviews, actress Mary Manson recalls going under complicated makeup to play the "very, very odd part" of the film's most integral creature, and continuity person Renee Glynne doesn't remember much about her work on the picture but offers a perspective from a rarely-heard crew position. The theatrical trailer, a TV spot, and a still gallery are also included.

When The Fly received the remake treatment in 1986, director David Cronenberg (Videodrome) put his patented body-horror spin on the concept. But beyond the Academy Award-winning makeup effects, which are aberrant and plentiful, lays a beautiful romance. The lean-paced film gets into it right away, opening with quirky scientist Seth Brundle (Jeff Goldblum, Jurassic Park) meeting journalist Veronica Quaife (Geena Davis, Beeteljuice).

Brundle courts Veronica by showing off his latest invention - teleportation devices known as telepods - and enlisting her to document his monumental findings. Brundle eventually goes through the telepod himself, unaware that a fly is in the device with him. While he's ostensibly unphased at first, he quickly discovers increased physical abilities. The benefits are short-lived, however, as he literally falls apart as the fly molecules overtake the human ones.

Unlike the original film, which hinged on a single, big reveal of a human-fly hybrid, Cronenberg and co-writer Charles Edward Pogue's (DragonHeart) script features a metamorphosis that slowly progresses - with gooey, practical effects by Chris Walas (Gremlins, Raiders of the Lost Ark) - throughout the film. Regular Cronenberg cinematographer Mark Irwin (Scream, There's Something About Mary) captures the atmosphere in an environment that begins cold and gets warmer as the film progresses.

Goldblum's awkward charms are at a peak. He and Davis were already a real-life couple, and their chemistry is palpable on screen. John Getz (Blood Simple) plays the third part of their love triangle as Stathis Borans, Veronica's boss and ex-boyfriend. But the intimacy extends beyond the relationships; the sparse film has but three essential roles, all of whom the viewer gets to know on a visceral level. The romance is supplemented by a heartstring-pulling score by Howard Shore (The Lord of the Rings, The Silence of the Lambs).

The Fly's Blu-ray disc offers two audio commentaries: an archival track with Cronenberg and a new one with The Artist as Monster: The Cinema of David Cronenberg author William Beard. Cronenberg's commentary is a fascinating mix of anecdotes and insight, such as the telepod design being based on a Ducati motorcycle cylinder and how he had to stop Davis from subconsciously mimicking Goldblum's distinct mannerisms. Beard's analytical track digs into the film's subtext and explores its themes, giving context to how it fits into Cronenberg's filmography. There's also a trivia track, in which bits of information pop up while the movie plays.

A new interview with comedy legend Mel Brooks (Blazing Saddles) - who produced The Fly under his Brooksfilms banner - is a highlight of the set. The 93-year-old Hollywood veteran chats about Cronenberg, Goldblum, David Lynch, and more. Other new interviews include producer Stuart Cornfeld, who reveals that Robert Bierman was going to direct until a family tragedy prevented it and that John Malkovich was originally sought for the lead role; Iriwn, who discusses the unique experience of working with Cronenberg, including their unfortunate falling out; and Shore, who explains how he implemented tragic themes for his first symphonic score of this size.

A plethora of existing special features are ported over. Fear of the Flesh: The Making of The Fly is a three-part documentary produced by Fox in 2005. The three stages of the film's production are covered by Goldblum, Davis, Getz, Walas, Pogue, Irwin, and more over the course of 135 minutes, not to mention extended/deleted interview segments. The Brundle Museum of Natural History features Walas sharing design concepts and effects materials alongside behind-the-scenes footage. Deleted and extended scenes, including the alternate ending, are also featured.

The disc contains a number of written works to peruse: Langelaan's original short story, Pogue's draft of the script, Cronenberg's rewrite of the script, and three 1986 articles about the film ("The Fly Papers" from Cinefex and "The Fly: New Buzz on an Old Theme" and "More About The Fly" from American Cinematographer). Other extras includes pre-production film tests, the original electronic press kit, a vintage profile on Cronenberg, various trailers, teasers, and TV spots, and still galleries (poster and lobby cards, publicity, behind the scenes, concept art, and four different effects galleries).

Much like the original The Fly, the remake's success led to a sequel. Released in 1989, The Fly II saw Walas assume the director's chair for the first time in his illustrious career. The script is written by Mick Garris (Hocus Pocus), Frank Darabont (The Shawshank Redemption), and Jim and Ken Wheat (Pitch Black). The pacing languishes in comparison to its predecessor, but it's not a bad followup overall. While Irwin and Shore's contributions are missed, the film reunites the talents of Hellraiser and Hellbound: Hellraiser II cinematographer Robin Vidgeon and composer Christopher Young.

The film opens with Veronica (recast with Saffron Henderson, Friday the 13th Part VIII: Jason Takes Manhattan) giving birth to Seth Brundle's baby - a squirming, amorphous creature - while Stathis (Getz, the only returning cast member, sporting a fake beard) looks on. The child, Martin Brundle (Eric Stoltz, Mask), suffers from a dramatically accelerated life cycle in terms of both physical growth and intelligence, so by his fifth birthday, he looks like he's in his 20s.

Martin is offered a job repairing his father's telepods in the laboratory in which he was raised. While working, he becomes romantically involved with a fellow employee, Beth Logan (Daphne Zuniga, Spaceballs). Their relationship is far less organic than the one depicted in the previous film, but it largely works. Martin eventually enters a cocoon-like state, only to emerge as a creature with virtually no humanity left for a final act that feels more like an Aliens knock-off than a Fly sequel.

Despite Walas helming several ambitious special effects - including a messy head crushing that initially earned the picture an X rating - he’s unable to outdo his landmark work on Cronenberg's film. The effects feel comparatively restrained with the exception of the the fly creature's final form, which looks a bit too cartoony. Yet, as beautifully tragic as Cronenberg's film is, The Fly II contains what is perhaps the franchise's most heart-wrenching scene: Martin watching his dog - his only friend - go through the telepod with disastrous results.

The Fly II's Blu-ray disc features new interviews with Cornfeld, who opens up about the difficulties of working with the studio on the sequel; Garris, who details his quite interesting original concept that greatly differs from the final product; Ken Wheat, who explains what he and his brother's draft introduced to the project before Darabont came on for the final rewrite; Vidgeon, who discusses working with Walas as a first-time director; Young, who talks about tapping into the emotional aspects and how his score differs from that of The Fly; and special effects artist Tom Sullivan (The Evil Dead), who talks collaborating on the creatures with other artists.

An audio commentary with Walas and film historian Bob Burns, whose extensive prop collection includes several pieces from The Fly II, is carried over. The old friends' camaraderie is apparent as Walas expounds upon the experience, including Davis' reasoning for not reprising her role. Transformations: Looking Back at The Fly II is a 48-minute retrospective from 2005 with Walas, Young, and producer Steven-Charles Jaffe (Ghost, Near Dark). Extended interviews with Walas (a sprawling 80 minutes) and Jaffe are also included.

The Fly Papers: The Buzz on Hollywood’s Scariest Insect is an hour-long TV documentary from 2000 about all five Fly films. Narrated by Star Trek's Lenoard Nimoy, it features Hugh Hefner, Ray Bradbury, Walas, Hedison, and more. Walas' crew's video production journal offers a behind-the-scenes look at the film's special effects. Young provides a master class in soundtrack composition in relation to his work in The Fly II. Other extras include storyboard-to-film comparisons with optional commentary by Walas; the original electronic press kit plus extended segments with Walas, Stoltz, and Zuniga; an alternate ending; a deleted scene; teaser and theatrical trailers; and still and storyboard galleries.

Genre fans should be afraid... be very afraid of not owning this set. Scream Factory has a reputation of going above and beyond for their collector's edition releases, but their box sets - like this and the recent The Omen Collection - are downright essential for horror completists. From presentation to special features, The Fly Collection does justice to each entry in the influential franchise.

The Fly Collection is available now on Blu-ray via Scream Factory.

[watusichris]

“Border Radio”: Where Punk Lived

Some years back, I wrote notes for the Criterion Collection’s edition of Allison Anders’ first feature Border Radio for the Criterion Collection. Tomorrow (June 3), Allison will gab about punk rock with John Doe, Tom DeSavia, and my illegitimate son Keith Morris at the Grammy Museum in L.A. in observance of the publication of the book we’re all in, More Fun in the New World (Da Capo).

**********

“You can’t expect other people to create drama for your life—they’re too busy creating it for themselves,” a punk groupie says at the conclusion of Border Radio. And the four reckless characters at the center of the film certainly manage to create plenty of drama for themselves. In the process, they paint a compelling picture of the Los Angeles punk-rock scene of the 1980s: what it was like on the inside—and what it was like inside the musicians’ heads. Border Radio (1987) was the first feature by three UCLA film students: Allison Anders, Kurt Voss, and Dean Lent. The subsequent work of both Anders and Voss would resonate with echoes from Border Radio and its musical milieu. Anders’s Gas Food Lodging (1992), Mi vida loca (1993), Grace of My Heart (1996), Sugar Town (1999), and Things Behind the Sun (2001) all draw to some degree from music and pop culture. (She quotes her mentor Wim Wenders’s remark about making The Scarlet Letter: “There were no jukeboxes. I lost interest.”) Voss, who co-wrote and codirected Sugar Town, also wrote and directed Down & Out with the Dolls (2001), a fictional feature about an all-girl band; and in 2006, he was completing Ghost on the Highway, a documentary about Jeffrey Lee Pierce, the late vocalist for the key L.A. punk group the Gun Club. The three filmmakers met at UCLA in the early eighties, after Anders and Voss had worked as production assistants on Wenders’s Paris, Texas. By that time, Anders and Voss, then a couple, were habitués of the L.A. club milieu; they favored the hard sound of such punk acts as X, the Blasters, the Flesh Eaters, the Gun Club, and Tex & the Horseheads. The neophyte writer-directors, who by 1983 had made a couple of short student films, formulated the idea of building an original script around a group of figures in the L.A. punk demimonde. Border Radio—which takes its title, and no little script inspiration, from a Blasters song (sung on the soundtrack by Rank & File’s Tony Kinman)—was conceived as a straight film noir. Vestiges of that origin can be seen in the finished film. Its lead character bears the name Jeff Bailey, also the name of Robert Mitchum’s doomed character in Jacques Tourneur’s 1947 noir Out of the Past; its Mexican locations also reflect a key setting in that bleak picture. One sequence features a pedal-boat ride around the same Echo Park lagoon where Jack Nicholson’s J. J. Gittes does some surveillance in Roman Polanski’s 1974 neonoir Chinatown; Chinatown itself—a hotbed of L.A. punk action in the late seventies and early eighties—features prominently in another scene. Certainly, Border Radio’s heist-based plot and the multiple betrayals its central foursome inflict upon each other are the stuff of purest noir. But the film diverges from its source in its largely sunlit cinematography and its explosions of punk humor; Anders, Voss, and Lent also abandoned plans to kill off the film’s lead female character. In casting their feature, the filmmakers turned to some able performers who were close at hand. The female lead was taken by Anders’s sister Luanna; her daughter was portrayed by Anders’s daughter Devon. Chris, Jeff’s spoiled, untrustworthy friend and roadie, was played by UCLA theater student Chris Shearer. The directors considered another student for the lead role of the tormented musician, Jeff, but Anders, in an inspired stroke, suggested Chris D. (né Desjardins), whose brooding, feral presence animated the Flesh Eaters. After being approached at a West L.A. club gig and initially expressing surprise at the filmmakers’ desire to cast him, the singer and songwriter signed on, and he helped recruit the other musicians in Border Radio. (A cineaste whose criticism often appeared in the local punk rag Slash, Desjardins would later write an authoritative book on Japanese yakuza films and write and direct the independent vampire film I Pass for Human. He is currently a programmer at the Los Angeles Cinematheque.) John Doe, bassist-vocalist for the celebrated L.A. punk unit X, and Dave Alvin, guitarist and songwriter for the top local roots act the Blasters, had both played with Chris D. in an edition of the Flesh Eaters. Doe—taking the first in a long list of film and TV roles—was cast as the duplicitous, drunken rocker Dean; Alvin makes an entertaining cameo appearance, essentially as himself, and wrote and performed the film’s score.Texacala Jones, frontwoman for the chaotic Tex & the Horseheads, does a hilarious turn as Devon’s addled babysitter. Iris Berry, later a member of the raucous all-female group the Ringling Sisters, portrays the self-absorbed groupie whose observations frame the film. Julie Christensen, Desjardins’ vocal partner in his latter-day group Divine Horsemen (and, for a time, his wife), essays a bit part as a club doorwoman. Seen in walk-ons are such local rockers as Tony Kinman, Flesh Eaters bassist Robyn Jameson, and punk hellion Texas Terri. The Arizona “paisley underground” transplants Green on Red and the local glam-punk outfit Billy Wisdom & the Hee Shees were captured in live performance. Those seeking punk verisimilitude could ask for nothing more. Border Radio had a torturous, piecemeal production history worthy of John Cassavetes. Shooting took place over a four-year period, from 1983 to 1987. Begun with two thousand dollars in seed money, supplied by actor Vic Tayback, the film scraped by on money given to Voss upon his 1984 graduation from UCLA, a loan from Lent’s parents, and cash and film stock cadged here and there. Violating UCLA policy, the filmmakers cut the film at night in the school’s editing bays, where Anders’s two young daughters would sleep on the floor. The film’s lack of a budget forced Anders, Voss, and Lent to shoot entirely on location; this enhanced the work, as far as the filmmakers were concerned, since they sought a naturalistic style and look for the feature. Lent’s Echo Park apartment doubled as Jeff’s home, while Anders and Voss’s trailer in Ensenada served as his Mexican hideout. The storied punk hangout the Hong Kong Café (whose neon sign can be seen fleetingly in Chinatown) was utilized, as were the East Side rehearsal studio Hully Gully, where virtually every local band of note honed their chops, and the music shop Rockaway Records (one of the few punk stores of the day still around). Befitting the work of film students on their maiden directorial voyage, Border Radio evinces the heavy influence of both the French new wave of the sixties and the New German Cinema of the seventies. The confident use of improvisation—the cast is credited with “additional dialogue and scenario”—recalls such early nouvelle vague works as Breathless. The ongoing “interview” device immediately recalls Jean-Pierre Léaud’s face-to-face with “Miss 19” in Jean-Luc Godard’s Masculin féminin, while Shearer’s shambling comedic outbursts are reminiscent of the sudden madcap eruptions in François Truffaut’s early films. The work of the Germans is felt most in the great pictorial beauty of Lent’s black-and-white compositions; certain striking moments—a languid, 360-degree pan around Ensenada’s bay; an overhead shot of Chris’s foreign roadster wheeling in circles in a cul-de-sac—summon memories of Wenders’s and Werner Herzog’s most indelible images. (Lent would go on to work as a cinematographer on nearly thirty pictures.) Though the styles and effects of these predecessors are on constant display, Border Radio moves beyond simple imitation, thanks to a sensibility that is uniquely of its time, spawned directly from the scene it depicts so faithfully. Though putatively a “music film,” very little music is actually on view in the picture; mere snatches of two songs are actually performed on-screen. The truest reflection of the period’s punk ethos can be found in the restlessness, anger, self-deception, and anomie of its Reagan-era protagonists. In Border Radio, one can see what punk rock looked like, all the way to the margins of the frame: in the flyers for L.A. bands like the Alley Cats, the Gears, and the Weirdos taped in a club hallway, in the poster for Andy Warhol’s Frankenstein and the calendars of L.A. repertory movie houses tacked on apartment walls, in the thrift-store togs and rock-band T-shirts (street clothes, really) worn by the players. But, more importantly, the shifting tragicomic tone of the film, the energy and attitude of its musician performers, and the uneasy rhythms of its characters’ lives present a real sense of the reality of L.A. punkdom in the day. Put into limited theatrical release in 1987, by the company that distributed the popular surf movie Endless Summer—a film that offers a picture of a very different L.A.—Border Radio was not widely seen and later received only an elusive videocassette release through Pacific Arts (the home-video firm founded, ironically enough, by Michael Nesmith of the prefab sixties rock group the Monkees). With this Criterion Collection edition, the film can finally be seen as the overlooked landmark that it is: possibly the only dramatic film to capture the pulse of L.A. punk—not as it played, but as it felt. (Thanks to Allison Anders for her invaluable contributions.)

[filmnoirfoundation]

ASK EDDIE returns Thursday, February 16, 7:00 PM PT to our Facebook page, https://www.facebook.com/filmnoirfoundation/live

FNF prez Eddie Muller responds to film noir fan questions fielded by the Foundation's Director of Communications Anne Hockens. In this episode, we discuss this year’s plans for our NOIR CITY film festivals, Bob Dylan’s relationship with noir, foreign noir television shows, heist films, and more. We also comment on this quote from poet, April Bernard, “Noir is romanticism embittered. The life of feeling that has been betrayed leads to the attitude and genre of noir. No one who loves noir is a cynic. Cynics never believed in anything in the first place. People who love noir are disillusioned romantics.”

We wind things up with a discussion of classic era film noir posters and their creators. On the cat front, Emily and Charlotte have their post-breakfast 10-hour powernap.

Want your question answered in a future episode? We solicit questions from our email subscribers in our monthly newsletters. Sign up for free at https://www.filmnoirfoundation.org/signup.html

Everyone who signs up on our email list and contributes $20 or more to the Film Noir Foundation receives the digital version of NOIR CITY Magazine for a year. Donate here: https://www.filmnoirfoundation.org/contribute.html

Can’t join us on Thursday? No problem! A recording will be up on our YouTube channel on Friday, February 17: https://www.youtube.com/user/NoirCitySF

Note: Eddie will not be able to answer questions posted during the livestream nor ones left on our social media accounts

[theaskew]

[ronk]

Noir Film posters (especially foreign ones) are quite cool. (American ‘Kiss of Death’) https://www.instagram.com/p/By_AiBLhT69/?igshid=1e96dhta8rwy8

[brillo-del-sol]

Just another one of those "signs as aesthetics" posts

ARIES: Cracked, peeling skin. Rips in upholstery and sun on bare thighs. Torn leggings and peppermint candies. The smell of oranges and Lysol. The ach in your chest when you hear an ambulance siren. The pull of fear rising in your throat when you hear the slam of a car door in the middle of the night.

TAURUS: Kittens to young to yet open their eyes, old-fashioned ice cream, the fullness of being close to the ocean. A curly-haired retriever asleep on your lap, your mother’s recipe book. Woolen socks, the crackle of a campfire. Melting ice, quickly watering down your lemonade. A tender heart, too easily consumed by human flaw. A human soul, always ready to forgive.

GEMINI: A foreign noir film. A narrow staircase. Rosy cheeks and a green knit sweater. White picket fences paired with broken windows. Vibrant bandana’s and kisses on the fourth of July. A button nose. The hard taste of cough syrup. Warm, stale beer at a shitty house party. A smile that lifts the weight off your chest. A longing to be anywhere but here.

CANCER: Herds of wild horses and robin egg blue. Desert cacti in bloom, abandoned railways, heat rising off concrete in waves. Apple skins and red lacquered nails, cottontails and evening rainstorms. A need for companionship, and uneasiness when you look in the mirror. Too much vodka in your orange juice.

LEO: Long lashes, sunflowers. Sea salt caramels and the tainting smell of bleach on your fingers. The laziness of a day spent at home.Sunshine seeping in through closed curtains. A wall full of posters. Butterflies in your stomach. The taste of copper on your tongue. Unexplainable envy, a broken heart, a busted lip.

VIRGO: Diaries and Fairy gardens. Glitter pens. Holy Water fonts. Chipped nail polish and cottonballs. Lemons in wicker bowls and vintage frilled aprons. Baskets on bike fronts. Lavender-scented feather pillows and ballet flats. Trust that’s borderline naive, a handful of painkillers.

LIBRA: Irrational fears. A cat purring on your stomach. Liquid eyeliner, clumsy actions, mismatched socks. Paper flowers and messy water paints. Broken book spines. Melancholy aches. The grief deep in your gut when you pass a “lost dog” poster, fear of disapproval from the people you love.

SCORPIO: Lace with plaid. Red plastic flowers. A collection of Virgin Marys. Stained glass, bite marks, leather seats. A faux pride. The overwhelming smell of hospitals. An empty casket. Barefoot on hot pavement, the smell of rain hitting dry dirt.

SAGITTARIUS: Tool sheds, flowerpots full of dried mud. Freckles. Floppy hair and curling toes. The high after your first concert, with every crash of a cymbal still ringing in your ears. Thick novels and National geographic collections. A fury buried so deep in your throat you could choke, X’s and O’s at the end of a letter.

CAPRICORN: Empty Sorrow. Hanging birdcages. Tracing raindrops on car windows with your finger. Scented stationary. Carnival funhouses. A heavy sigh. A bouquet of dead flowers, wire hangers. A collection of fears. The need to be alone, the relief of breathing after laughing till your sides hurt.

AQUARIUS: Heavy jackets, nose rings, picking at scabs. Crashing bikes into chain link fences and sloppy kisses. Late nights and flood lights. Dents in your locker. The smell of new shoes, the smell of pine. Ink on skin. Faded jeans and rusted playgrounds. A longing for speed, a dreamless sleep.

PISCES: First kisses. Tea candles. Melancholy nostalgia. Rosaries and feather earrings. Vintage perfume bottles and crimped hairstyles. Pearls and fir trees. The smell of pencil dust. The crashing of the sea, stuck inside of a seashell. Wind chimes sounding late at night. Fear of individuality. Heartache, sleep crusted eyes, a strong instinct to protect.

[nofomoartworld]

Hyperallergic: The Lurid Covers of 20th-Century Pulp Fiction

​Murder for What? (​1936), cover illustration by George Dunsford Klein; book by Kurt Steel (pseudonym for Rudolf Kagey), Select Publication, Inc., New York (courtesy the Wolfsonian–FIU, gift of Francis Xavier Luca and Clara Helena Palacio Luca)

In the Shadows: American Pulp Cover Art at the Wolfsonian–Florida International University (FIU) explores how 1920s to 1950s pulp fiction reveals the social issues of its time. The exhibition at the Miami Beach museum features 28 examples of this vivid popular art, where a whole story was conveyed from the cheap paperback’s cover, whether a wide-eyed blonde victim waiting for her gun-toting savior, or a stereotyped foreigner threatening a chiseled-faced American.

“The Wolfsonian–FIU has always adopted a different approach towards art appreciation, collecting, and exhibiting art that some might not consider fine art, but rather commercial, propagandistic, or persuasive art,” Frank Luca, the Wolfsonian’s chief librarian and the organizer of In the Shadows, told Hyperallergic. For instance, the 2015-16 Margin of Error included 1930s work safety postcards and accident insurance company posters among paintings and photographs. “As many of the ‘pulps’ sold millions of issues, the artwork designed to sell the stories definitely qualifies them as powerfully persuasive art,” Luca added.

Detective Fiction, ​December 1941 issue of the periodical, Frank A. Munsey Company​, New York (courtesy the Wolfsonian–FIU, gift of Francis Xavier Luca and Clara Helena Palacio Luca)

Along with his work as the Wolfsonian’s chief librarian, Luca moonlights as a history professor at FIU, and the exhibition evolved from a recent history and film course called “The Underbelly of America” concentrating on American social problems from the 1900s to the 1950s.

“Four of the undergraduate history students elected to work on a curatorial project examining themes of sex, stereotyping, and violence using the Wolfsonian–FIU Library’s collection of pulp periodicals and paperbacks and linking them to pre-code and film-noir Hollywood cinema,” Luca explained. At a time when Hollywood films were censored, the pulp periodicals and books tantalized readers with the promise of crime, sexuality, and violence. The four FIU students included Joseph Perez, who focused on the depiction and demonization of Muslim people in pulp adventure cover art; Erica Melamed, who studied how women became increasingly sexualized over the decades on the covers; Tiffany Breslawski, who looked at how violence towards women frequently appeared on crime covers; and Mauriel Fernandez, who concentrated on the tropes of women being kidnapped and used as human shields, whether the villain was a local gangster or a foreign enemy.

All of these themes are present in the compact exhibition at the Wolfsonian, ranging from a 1934 edition of Argosy Weekly titled “Lion of Morocco,” showing a larger-than-life man with a beard and turban menacingly reaching a hand over the sand dunes, to a 1945 issue of Black Mask, where just a woman’s legs, clad in red heels that hint at a fallen woman status, are visible, the majority of the cover consumed by a sidewalk grate under which an armed man is preparing to shoot. The target audience for these books was usually young, white men, and the lurid covers that featured male heroes and helpless or femme fatale women can be seen as a precedent to the character patterns of American comic books.

The artists in the pulp industry were often talented and visually innovative, yet mostly overlooked by the art world. For example, George Gross was a Pratt graduate who worked as a fashion artist and later opened his own art studio, while Rafael Desoto worked in advertising art, supplementing his career with cover paintings for the pulp magazines. In the early decades of the 20th century, these covers were standalone paintings first, before being mass-produced on the paperbacks.

As Luca stated, “While many museums of the era were interested only in ‘modern’ and abstract art, pulp cover artists and illustrators recognized and capitalized on the average American’s appetite for realistic and even melodramatic imagery.”

​Black Mask​, ​November 1945 issue of the periodical, Fictioneers, Inc., a division of Popular Publications, Inc.​, New York (courtesy the Wolfsonian–FIU, gift of Francis Xavier Luca and Clara Helena Palacio Luca)

Detective Novels Magazine, ​October 1943 issue of the periodical, Better Publications, Inc., New York (courtesy the Wolfsonian–FIU, gift of Francis Xavier Luca and Clara Helena Palacio Luca)

See What I Mean? (1943), book by Lewis Browne, New Avon Library, New York (courtesy the Wolfsonian–FIU, gift of Francis Xavier Luca and Clara Helena Palacio Luca)

Crack Detective, May 1944 issue of the periodical, Columbia Publishing (courtesy the Wolfsonian–FIU, gift of Francis Xavier Luca and Clara Helena Palacio Luca)

Argosy Weekly, November 3, 1934 issue of the periodical, cover art by Paul Stahr, the Frank A. Munsey Company, New York (courtesy the Wolfsonian–FIU, Gift of Francis Xavier Luca & Clara Helena Palacio Luca)

The Hucksters (1952), book by Frederic Wakeman, Avon, New York (courtesy the Wolfsonian–FIU, gift of Vicki Gold Levi)

Broadway Virgin (1949), cover art by Wesley Snyder, book by Lois Bull, Diversey, New York (courtesy the Wolfsonian–FIU, gift of Vicki Gold Levi)

Private Detective, ​January 1946 issue of the periodical,Trojan Publishing Corp.​ (courtesy the Wolfsonian–FIU, gift of Francis Xavier Luca and Clara Helena Palacio Luca)

Argosy Weekly, January 20, 1934 issue of the periodical, cover art by Paul Stahr, the Frank A. Munsey Company, New York (courtesy the Wolfsonian–FIU, gift of Francis Xavier Luca & Clara Helena Palacio Luca)

In the Shadows: American Pulp Cover Art continues at the Wolfsonian-Florida International University (1001 Washington Avenue, Miami Beach, Florida) through July 9.

The post The Lurid Covers of 20th-Century Pulp Fiction appeared first on Hyperallergic.

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