Cop Hater ('58)

"They found him laying there like garbage outside some crummy closed-up movie palace."

COP HATER

a crime film from 1958

directed by William Berke

Cop Hater is a make-believe police fantasy film from 1958, based on the samely-named Ed McBain novel from 1956, apparently based on the make-believe police procedural show Dragnet. Stuff like this I love -- a movie that's a depiction of an altered reality. A story about a dream.

"A cop was killed tonight, that's the megillah, and he was killed with a .45"

Loved the classy sleazoid vibe of this pulp melodrama trash-fest. I guess McBain knew the short route to realism was vices, fatal flaws, tragedy, and dreary sensationalism. The title -- Cop Hater -- bravo.

"Somewhere, in this weird wide wonderful city of ours, some crazy bird, with a -- kink in his brain, is oiling up his .45, for jungle hunting. His crazy brain wants cops. Cops. Cops."

A party checklist could be made for this movie: policemen, police station, world-weary old-timers, a youth gang, newly-wed officer, baby,

check out this baby doll used as real baby, creeeepy

collusions, a grumpy sexpot wife, a deaf and dumb girlfriend,

seriously, one cop's girlfriend is a cutie mute/deaf girl

heroine addiction ("all he cares about is the mainline"), alcoholics, journalists, undercover operations, police brutality, identity mixup, etc. 

modern science

"Well if it don't make sense there's no sense talking about it. I'll let ya know if it shapes."

The movie isn't a reflection of the real world, it's a magnification of a world created by popular culture. It's tons-of-fun bullshit, especially if you're into crime cinema's most romanticized symbols: babes and bullets.

When the movie was made William Berke was toward the end of his long directing career, which had begun in 1935 with a movie called Toll of the Desert. His best movie is a matter of esoteric debate, he never helmed a "classic," but his directing career spanned many years and included dozens of movies; 95 IMDb directing credits, ~20 of them tv credits, and earlier acting and writing credits.

I wonder what it felt like to see this movie in '58, I bet it was fun. The movie is a cheapo, the sound recording is tinny, and locations seem reused for budgetary reasons. The acting is wooden or theatrical, either method amplifying the absurdity of the dialogue. There's no reason for this movie to be someone's favorite. It doesn't add to the well from which it draws. But I think it's wonderfully giddy and entertaining. Who will carry it into the future, will it be carried into the future. It's sad and weird to think about this movie's future. Who will care about it, and who will see it. Who will know its name. 

In this violent scene a man's head is slammed against the floor

Cop Hater, I know and respect thee.

Plunder Road ('57)

"If they ever hit a bump we're all angels."
PLUNDER ROAD
a heist film from 1957
directed by Hubert Cornfield

Our grandparents were badasses because they watched hot little numbers like Plunder Road, a crackling 72 minute heist flick from '57. It's a lean piece of meat. The first 13 minutes are the mostly-silent heist of $10million in gold from a train. The title refers to the getaway route the crooks take for the next 40 minutes. The crooks (including Elisha Cook Jr.), six of them in three trucks, each carrying a third of the gold, try to stay cool and calm amid a minefield of gas stations, road blocks, and weigh stations. The heist is the narrative thrust; the movie peaks into the criminals' private lives only through chats they have with each other along the way. The small data given is enough to reveal the human beneath the criminal facade, and one can relate to the characters as people, but for only a short moment, because the movie never derails the crime action narrative -- mostly one's thoughts are of crime and escape.

Directed by Hubert Cornfield, who made about eight movies in his career, none very famous. I want to see his Lure of the Swamp, released earlier the same year. Story and screenplay by Steven Ritch, an actor, who acts in the movie, in fact. Cinematography by prodigious Ernest Haller, who shot Rebel Without A Cause, Gone with the Wind, Captain Blood, etc.

Bravo to everyone involved for the golden car trick. What is the earliest example of the golden car trick? This one seems early. They melt down their gold and make rear and front bumpers and hubcaps. This level of imagination feels high-concept modern.

And, how does the movie end? With a man jumping off an overpass.

This movie from the yesterday people of 1957 is for the 2013 people of tomorrow!!

Drugstore Cowboy

Regional moviemaking is my favorite kind of moviemaking. Maybe I don't say that enough.

Regional movies' stories exist within a mappable, real-world location. Drugstore Cowboy didn't happen in the imagination, it happened in Portland OR. The story itself becomes more specific, a little more real. Many talented and popular American moviemakers aim to capture the feeling of regionalism -- Tarantino, PT Anderson, Woody Allen, Spike Lee, Alexander Payne, Richard Linklater... maybe John Waters, Jim Jarmusch, Abel Ferrara, George Romero. Moviemakers one can think of and name a city. I almost don't want to go into its global and multitudinous heritage, because so greatly do I cherish the quality that it opens floodgates.

No working American moviemaker, except maybe Charles Burnett, who still makes regional movies and made Killer of Sheep, is better at regionalism than Gus Van Sant.

It's Van Sant's instinct to tear the sheet of artifice that separates movies from reality. When I think of his movies I think of the magic of reality translated in cinematic terms. It seems like so many other movies work the opposite way.

His second movie, like his first movie Male Noche, is adapted from an autobiographical prose source. Northwest-regional poet Walter Curtis wrote the novella Mala Noche, and this movie's source is Northwest-outlaw James Fogle's novel Drugstore Cowboy, written while Fogle was in jail. Fogle is currently in jail for a pharmacy robbery committed in Seattle, in 2011 and at the age of 73. The Telegraph, covering the 2011 incident, includes an incident from 2004 in which Fogle broke through a roof and stole $10k worth of drugs. Maybe he would have gotten away too, if he hadn't fallen asleep while making his getaway.

The director of photography for Drugstore Cowboy was Robert Yeoman, second unit d.p. on William Friedkin's To Live and Die in L.A., and whose first feature d.p. credit is Alexandre Rockwell's Hero. He has shot all of Wes Anderson's live-action movies up to Moornise Kingdom, shot Roman Coppola's CQ, Noah Baumbach's The Squid and The Whale, and numerous other movies, including Hollywood fare.

Drugstore Cowboy is a solid movie aesthetically. These are the early days of Van Sant's career, back when moviemaking alone was the risk. Since this point he's reached further, deeper, explored surfaces for tunnels to the interior. A thing he does not do, now or then, is experiment at the sacrifice of his narrative; another thing he definitely does not do is use style to lie about his characters.

The characters lead, cinema follows.

It's a prescient drug movie -- here we find the drug-taking montage w/abstractly perfect sounds, the terrorized mother. Roller Girl's first foray into the fringes. It also draws from the well: Bob's impotence channels Clyde, Bob could be Dillon's character from Over the Edge full grown, and William S. Burroughs plays a priest named Tom. Who invented the sheriff convention gag?

Rick: Jesus Bob, no one ever told us anything about not mentioning dogs.

Bob: The reason nobody mentioned dogs is because just to have mentioned the dog would have been a hex in itself.

The protagonists are junkies, but non-junkies can relate to them by the way they attempt to hold their lives together, attempt to read the symbols of their lives, and attempt to make the moves that will take them forward. Bob isn't enlightened by the drugs he takes, his wisdom comes from knowing that what he wants is drugs. He knows he can make himself happy by obtaining the thing he desires. Like all of us. He's the leader of the group because he takes the risks. He takes risks in order to have a group that supports him.

Seems like narratives about people who rest their lives on a foundation of chaos often in the end collapse into chaos. Or else they spend the remainder of their days talking about the days of chaos as the days of paradise.

Bob: Well, to begin with, nobody, and I mean nobody, can talk a junkie out of using. You can talk to 'em for years but sooner or later they're gonna get ahold of something. Maybe it's not dope. Maybe it's booze, maybe it's glue, maybe it's gasoline. Maybe it's a gunshot to the head. But something. Something to relieve the pressures of their everyday life, like having to tie their shoes.

BONUS VAN SANT KNOWLEDGE: He directed the music video for the Red Hot Chili Peppers song Under The Bridge. Yup.

Blue Steel ('89)

Kathryn Bigelow's ratio of attractive shots to perfunctory shots seems amazingly high on the attractive side.

A person can't open a door in one of her movies without a great looking shot.

No way is she showing off. These camera choices are perfect for their scenes, and Bigelow has a gift for not getting in the way of her characters. It's unusual to see such deliberate and effective style without the voice of the moviemaking interfering with the presentation.

Bigelow has a sweet little bio, something an interesting character in a Spanish novella might have: the only child of a paint factory manager and a librarian, studied panting at and graduated from the San Francisco Art Institute, accepted into the Independent Study program at Whitney Museum of American Art, graduate film studies at Columbia University, part of a collaboration of conceptual artists called Art and Language, apprenticeships under other major figures in the art world.

The determination and fortitude of Megan Turner (Jamie Lee Curtis), a rookie cop struggling in a male-dominated work place, was my favorite aspect of Blue Steel. It's always captivating to witness a character stand against inequality and injustice. It's always interesting to experience a character's fight for personal beliefs, and her fight here is double -- there's also a serial killer who carves her name onto his bullets, and Turner knows who it is before anyone else does.

We the audience know who it is before she does. The who isn't a mystery, it's not a mystery movie. It's half character study, one-quarter police procedural, one-quarter game of cat and mouse. The two quarters that make the second half don't interest me.

So when bored I stared at the visuals. And the visuals were always interesting.



If you're going to stand in the street, simply stand in the middle of the street, Bigelow will gift you with background beauty.

Man in Front of Window, Bigelow '89.

The director of photography on Blue Steel was Amir Mokri. Bigelow hasn't worked with him again. He's twice worked with Michael Bay (Bad Boys II and Transformers: Dark of the Moon), twice with D.J. Caruso (The Salton Sea and Taking Lives) and four times with Wayne Wang (Slam Dance, Eat a Bowl of Tea, Life Is Cheap ... But Toilet Paper is Expensive, The Joy Luck Club).

In conclusion: Bigelow Bigelow Bigelow.

Yes, Madam

Take your pick

Yes Madam aka In the Line of Duty II aka The Super Cops aka Police Assassins is the second feature directed by Peking Opera School attendee Cory Yuen (director of my fav martial arts movie, The Legend: Fong Sai-yuk). Released in 1985, the movie was the first starring role for Michelle Yeoh.

Undercover at the bookstore

Yeoh plays Senior Inspector Ng. She's in charge of a lot of male officers who tell her she is 'on the rag' and should 'go back to the kitchen.' She's a total badass and kicks ass at her job and ignores all the meanies.

Yeoh channels Eastwood

Plot = a microfilm conspiracy involving a fake contract and sums of money. Those things weren't very interesting to me, but I loved the stylistic touches from Yuen and the performances by the spectacular cast.

I expected movie director Tsui Hark to have a cameo, was then surprised by his substantial part (w/dramatic payoff).

Tsui Hark as Panadol (left)

I have trouble not romanticizing Hong Kong cinema, especially during its fertile periods, like in the mid-80s, when a number of great movies were being made and people were working on each other's movies; and these movies are electric, fast, fun, and cinematic. Sigh. Is there already a movie about making movies in this time/place? I'd like to write that movie, fill in the gaps with my imagination (which method would be harmonious with the movies of the time/place).

Scotland Yard sends Senior Inspector Carrie Morris (Cynthia Rothrock) to help with the case. Inspector Ng doesn't appreciate this fact at first, probably because Morris is a threat to her own authority, maybe also because she doesn't like to share the spotlight.

'Getting to know you' interrogation scene

But eventually they realize they're both kickass and independent women in roles of authority. Why not get along and kick ass together?

Dance club scene!

A series of escalating events occur -- and things do get properly dramatic -- culminating in a multifaceted showdown at the bad guy's house, with a lot of fights, a lot of Yeoh and Rothrock getting their asses kicked and kicking ass in return.

In a sort of really cool 80s way. Several 'modern' touches surprised me, like when the bad guy himself referred to all the laughing he was doing:

Next line: "I just can't help laughing because I'm so happy."

Funny. More than that, the ending is a kind of anti-hero twist that put a lump in my throat. Seriously. Don't want to give it away, but what happened made me think 'daaaaang.'

Amazing Stories, Episode 2.17, "Gershwin's Trunk"

It's been almost two hours since I was this excited about a tv episode. "Gershwin's Trunk" is the second episode Paul Bartel directed for the Steven Spielberg-produced Amazing Stories. It was co-written with John Meyer, who had co-written 1984's Not for Publication with Bartel (Meyer has no further IMDb credits).

Tempted to call this a more serious episode, prefer instead to call it the more deadpan of the two. Detective Watts (Bartel) witnesses the cover up of a crime committed by Broadway songwriter Jo-Jo Gillespie (Bob Balaban), and the episode is the telling of Gillespie's dark spiral.

The quick story is nimble and takes unexpected turns. There's rivalry, mysticism, betrayal, murder, housekeeping, detective work, songwriting, back-stage Broadway rehearsal, upscale NY restaurants, and everything in twenty-four minutes and played kind of straight (with Bartel winks); all together it's outrageously absurd.

Pretty sure the episode says that creative people who steal from the same source are bound to create derivative material, and also something about how often creative people steal from each other, and the shades of parasitism inherent to collaboration, and as Detective Watts says, "muses are fickle, Jo-Jo."

Again Bartel handles material with deep seriousness and complete ridiculousness, somehow, and with total understanding of, and control over, the magic of cinema.