Recently Watched: Peaceful Transition Edition (Fingers Crossed)

A couple of lesser Carpenter films, a Lord-Miller rewatch, a surprisingly good horror remake, a “problematic” early 80s comedy and a Fellini classic—as usual, my film consumption is all over the place, although as I look through my Letterboxd diary I see I’m comfortably in mainstream and B-movie territory without much to challenge me. I think I will need to get artsier again soon, and maybe for awhile.

Several years ago I did a dive into the John Carpenter filmography, but I left several films unwatched. I’ve caught up on two of those, his remake of Village of the Damned (1995) and his Vampires (1998). Considering that his greatest film is a remake (The Thing, 1982), Village of the Damned is not automatically lesser Carpenter, but it feels a lot like a story told well, but too quickly with much elided. An eclectic cast is fun—Christopher Reeve (in his final released theatrical film role before his paralyzing accident), Kirstie Alley, casually tossing off a version of the Ambitious Government Scientist role while chain-smoking colorful cigarettes, and Mark Hamill, of all people, among other faces. It seems strange to say this, but I could have used another 30-60 minutes of this story. I really wanted to know some of the stories of the early years of the alien/hellspawn kids as their “parents” became increasingly suspicious about their origins, but the film skips on from their births to their later childhood, when they start taking control of everything.

The story reminds me somewhat of Stephen King’s The Tommyknockers, in which a small Maine hamlet is cut off from the world when its residents fall under the sway of alien technology. An execrable TV movie was made of that book; Carpenter could have done it a thousand times better. He’s always handled his ensembles well, giving each character interesting moments of defining action, even in smaller roles. This would have served the King story well, as it does Village.

Vampires is the more entertaining of the two Carpenter films. Its take on vampire mythology and its gleefully copious gore are reminiscent of Kathryn Bigelow’s outlaw vampire Western, Near Dark, 1987. Instead of a roving band of scummy vampire druggies, here’s a roving band of scummy vampire hunters, led by an obnoxiously charming James Woods and a Baldwin (Daniel). Sheryl Lee (Twin Peaks’ Laura Palmer) also shows up to act circles around everyone else. This is a B-movie and it makes little sense, but does it with panache. A motel party gone very wrong is a highlight, as is the role played by the Catholic Church, which has, of course, been hunting vampires for centuries.

The Lego Movie, which I have seen four or five times now, thanks to having children, is one of those rare kids movies that is utterly rewatchable for adults and kids alike. It’s almost a Pixar movie in that sense. The voice acting is great, the writing is great, the jokes are so fast and plentiful that I’m still laughing at things I’ve missed before. Chris Miller and Phil Lord (and their many collaborators), as they did with Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs (based on a minor classic but very short kid’s book), manage to elevate the source material (plastic toys) so far beyond the “how can this even be a movie” complaint it feels like an original work, even though it’s about as successful a vertically-integrated, synergistic, corporate pop-culture machine-object as you can possibly imagine.

In March, I watched Irvin Yeaworth’s 1958 scifi-horror The Blob, about which I wrote, “Like if Nicholas Ray made The Thing From Another World.” Happy to make a second Thing reference in one post. That earlier version starred an 18-year-old Steve McQueen, who already looked like a 40-year-old Steve McQueen, somehow, as a troubled teenager forced to face off with a wad of gelatinous space goo that tries to eat his town. It’s a gorgeous color FX film, a teen melodrama at heart, with a conceptually frightening monster that’s also gloriously silly, a superbly squishy symbol of teen angst if I’ve ever seen one. The remake, from 1988, is very much the same in terms of its tone and meaning, but the practical horror FX are an 80s gore pinnacle, in the most delightfully disgusting way. It’s not scary but it is a laugh riot while still making us care about (some of) the characters. Shawnee Smith is a standout; so is Kevin Dillon.

The “problematic” 80s comedy was Tootsie, one of the funniest movies, in my opinion, with a peerless cast. I may write about this at more length soon. Or not. We shall see.

Finally, Fellini. I was gifted the gorgeous new Criterion box set for Christmas, so I picked one I somehow hadn’t seen, 1957’s Nights of Cabiria. What can one say? A luminous, heartbreaking masterpiece with a performance for the ages by Giulietta Masina. Maybe a top ten performance in cinema; as full of life in all its joy and sadness as any ever placed before a camera.