“George Lucas said the most useful thing to me as I was about to do Body Heat. I said ‘George, I don’t know that much about the technical stuff.’ And keep in mind that George is Mr. Technology, right? He said ‘Making movies has nothing to do with the technical stuff. It has everything to do with what kind of person you are.’ It was the most important thing anyone ever said to me about directing. I had a lot of confidence in the sort of person I was. I knew the kind of stories I wanted to tell. I knew the kind of atmosphere I wanted to create on my set. I knew the kind of life I wanted to live and how I wanted my work to embody that life, so the fact that I didn’t know anything technically didn’t really matter.” Lawrence Kasdan interviewed by Alex Simon for Venice Magazine, September 2001

Body Heat (1981)
Directed by Lawrence Kasdan
Written by Lawrence Kasdan
Produced by Fred T. Gallo
113 minutes

To call Body Heat the greatest dirty movie ever mounted by Hollywood wouldn’t be giving Lawrence Kasdan enough credit for the agility in which story, character, dialogue, mood and mystery come together in his directorial debut, along with some of the most combustive sex ever thrown down on film. Instead of feeling like a relic of what filmmakers were getting past the MPAA at the time, this is one movie whose temperature rises with each viewing. As the Florida town of Miranda Beach melts under a heatwave, attorney Ned Racine (William Hurt) divides his time between bedding nurses or meter maids and defending penny ante crooks in Okeelanta County Court. Entertained by Racine’s tales of wanton sexual lust, Assistant County Prosecutor Peter Lowenstein (Ted Danson) and Detective Oscar Grace (J.A. Preston) are also aware of Racine’s desire for a score that will satisfy his financial needs.

Cooling off on the Miranda Beach boardwalk, Racine’s dick leads him after a stunning blonde in a white blouse named Matty Walker (Kathleen Turner). Matty maintains that she’s married, but rather than discourage Ned’s come-ons, hints that she’s game for more than talk. Ned tracks Matty down to a bar in the waterfront town of Pinehaven and his scruffy charms win him an invitation back to Matty’s home to “see” her wind chimes. Needing more than just garden decor, Ned smashes into Matty’s home and the couple plunge into an explosive affair. Seeing how miserable Matty is married to real estate investor Edmund Walker (Richard Crenna), Ned works out a scheme to make Edmund’s murder look like a botched arson, ignoring the advice of a grateful client, rock ‘n roll arsonist Teddy Lewis (Mickey Rourke). Sure enough, the more Ned learns about Matty Walker, the more it seems she’s setting him up.

With his original screenplays The Bodyguard and Continental Divide finding buyers and George Lucas hiring him to write Raiders of the Lost Ark and The Empire Strikes Back, Lawrence Kasdan was red hot when he began turning down work in 1979. Alan Ladd Jr., president of Twentieth Century Fox, inquired why and Kasdan answered that he wanted to write and direct his own films, specifically, a film noir of his generation. When Ladd left the studio to form his own company and Fox’s new regime put Body Heat into turnaround, the mogul invited Kasdan to make his directorial debut for The Ladd Company if he found a “sponsor” who could give the project some leverage. The first time director approached Lucas, who balked at putting the Lucasfilm label on a movie titled Body Heat, but as de facto executive producer, promised Ladd he would cover any budget overruns out of his own pocket.

What makes Body Heat so hot and bothered isn’t sex, but foreplay. Kasdan puts us in a novel location, builds mood and reveals the desires of his characters with dashes of wit and kinkiness before we get to watch anyone fuck. Instead of using sex to intensify the story, the story intensifies the sex. Plucked off the soap opera The Doctors by casting director Wally Nicita for her film debut, Kathleen Turner embodies a woman any man might contemplate committing murder to possess. Turner handles the vulnerability and the gentle cunning of Matty Walker with as much gusto as she does the sexuality. Kasdan’s flawless script builds mystique by leaving Matty’s true nature ambiguous until the final shot. While we can see the end coming, Ned never does, which makes it feel surprising. Equally mesmerizing are the amiable sleaze summoned by William Hurt, the electricity of Mickey Rourke (in his breakout role) and an elegant noir musical score by John Barry.

Rotten Tomatoes “Tomatometer” average among 8,664 users: 71% for Body Heat

Metacritic “Metascore” average among leading critics: N/A

What do you say?

“I remember being absolutely fearless because I was too young to know any better. I had no idea, I had never tasted failure — or pressure from the studio. You know, that film got made because Sean was very hot, Sean wanted me to direct it, and because he and I were so simpatico, we could do whatever we wanted because we held the power. I never appreciated that at the time, how important that was, so we literally did whatever we wanted and tried crazy things and didn’t care what other people thought — we didn’t have to care what other people thought.” James Foley interviewed by Walter Chaw for Film Freak Central, April 2003

At Close Range (1986)
Directed by James Foley
Screenplay by Nicholas Kazan, story by Elliott Lewitt and Nicholas Kazan
Produced by Elliott Lewitt, Don Guest
111 minutes

If the songwriting of Bruce Springsteen could conjure moving images, the result would be something very similar to At Close Range. Though The Boss didn’t supply any music for the soundtrack, echoes of “Thunder Road” or “Darkness on the Edge of Town” with their engines of discontented youth reverberate through this film, siphoned into a crime story and injected by an ensemble cast that makes a case for being one of the greatest ever assembled. Somewhere in the seemingly lawless farmland of Pennsylvania in 1978, Brad Whitewood Jr. (Sean Penn) trucks into town to pick up his knucklehead brother Tommy (Christopher Penn). Brad summons the guts to talk to a girl named Terry (Mary Stuart Masterson) hanging out in the square. Lacking a job or even reliable wheels, he ultimately convinces the 16-year-old to light out west with him for a better life together.

Brad Jr. seeks out his absentee father Brad Whitewood Sr. (Christopher Walken), who local gossip has it is a thief. Brad Sr. introduces the boy to his woman (Candy Clark), as well as the uncles (R.D. Call, J.C. Quinn) and the epileptic (David Straithairn) he disappears with in the dead of night. Wary of Brad Jr. getting mixed up in the schemes of his dim witted Uncle Patch (Tracey Walter), Brad Sr. gives his son a 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle and sends him back to his mother (Millie Perkins). Seeking respect and some extra cash, Brad Jr. and Tommy gather their friends (Crispin Glover, Stephen Geoffreys, Kiefer Sutherland) and start stealing tractors. Brad Jr. compels his father to show him the ropes, but sees more than he bargained for one night and breaks away from his dad. When his son is arrested, the bonds of family buckle and Brad Sr’s self-preservation kicks in.

In August 1978, producer Elliott Lewitt came across an account in the Philadelphia Inquirer of two teenagers — a federal witness and his 15-year-old girlfriend — who’d been riddled with bullets in rural Chester County. Details emerged that the boy’s father Bruce Johnston Sr. was patriarch of family notorious for stealing tractors and anything else that wasn’t moving. Seeing potential for a modern day Greek tragedy, Lewitt hired Nicholas Kazan to adapt a screenplay based on these events. Titled At Close Range, Kazan’s script became one nearly every executive in Hollywood wanted to see made but none were willing to bankroll. That changed in 1985 when Sean Penn was being heralded as the most talented young actor in movies. Penn had befriended USC Film School grad James Foley and a script both men loved was At Close Range. Hemdale Film Corporation agreed to finance the project with Orion Pictures handling distribution.

Kazan let it be known how displeased he was with Foley’s work, cutting scenes the scribe felt pivotal to the plot, redacting the humor and giving the picture a visual sheen Kazan thought undermined its reality. It’ll never be known how great At Close Range might have been, but in Foley’s defense, what’s on screen is remarkable. Cast by Risa Bramon and Billy Hopkins, the ensemble is extraordinary and in his sophomore feature, Foley knew to let his actors act. The energy harnessed by Sean Penn, his brother Chris and their mother Eileen Ryan (playing the boys’ grandma) is palpable, while Walken and Masterson and the great Tracey Walter mesmerize in every moment of their screen time. The lightning by Juan Ruiz Anchia bleeds shadow, but in a fresh approach, this is film noir set knee deep in the boondocks. Madonna co-wrote and performed the ubiquitous theme song “Live To Tell”, which materializes throughout the film as its own atmospheric effect.

Rotten Tomatoes “Tomatometer” average among 8,017 users: 71% for At Close Range

Metacritic “Metascore” average among leading critics: N/A

What do you say?

Q: “Why exactly did Paramount bury it?”
A: “Well, I think the real question is, why was it even made?”
Nick Schager interviewing Lou Adler for IFC News, September 2008

Ladies and Gentlemen, The Fabulous Stains (1982)
Directed by Lou Adler
Written by Nancy Dowd (as Rob Morton)
Produced by Joe Roth
87 minutes

For those who always wanted to find a time capsule buried in their backyard, or possibly stashed beneath the floorboard of their home, Ladies and Gentlemen, The Fabulous Stains comes closer to capturing that sense of handcrafted wonder, impeccable historical detail and genuine surprise than just about any movie of the 1980s. Like a tin bin containing dime store knick knacks and faded newspaper clippings, this eclectic hybrid of music drama and chick empowerment vehicle lacks anything in the way of lavish production value. Much of its speedy 87 minutes feels duct taped together from different script drafts, reshoots and test screenings, but strangely, nothing could feel more true to the film’s punk rock aesthetic than a film with the sound of a worn out amp resold at a Pittsburgh pawn shop.

Diane Lane — 15 years young when shooting commenced in March 1980 — plays Corinne “Third Degree” Burns, an orphaned teen stuck with sister “Dee Peleted” (Marin Kanter) and cousin “Dizzy Heights” (Laura Dern) in their Pennsylvania steel town. Corrine catches British punk band The Looters as they pass through and implores their irascible lead singer Billy (Ray Winstone) for an audition. The Stains get their break from a Jamaican tour manager (Barry Ford), who hopes the girls distract Billy from exterminating the headliner, a one-hit rock relic from the ’70s named Lou Corpse (Fee Waybill). Corrine makes up for zero musical ability with a fuck you attitude, provocative hair/makeup and a feminist point of view, declaring “We’re The Stains and we don’t put out!” TV exposure swells the band’s disaffected female fanbase, but ignoring Billy’s advice, Corrine makes all the wrong decisions for the very first time.

After the success of Slap Shot in 1977, Paramount Pictures offered screenwriter Nancy Dowd a two-script deal. Dowd wanted to write about girls in a steel town who liberate themselves through punk rock. Introducing her to that scene was Caroline Coon, an artist who’d briefly managed The Clash; the studio would retain Coon as creative consultant and costume designer for what Dowd had titled All Washed Up. To direct, Paramount offered the project to Lou Adler, a record producer who’d worked with The Mamas & The Papas and Carole King and hit pay dirt at the picture show in 1978 with Cheech & Chong’s Up In Smoke. Dowd would later strip her name from the credits — citing sexual harassment on the set in Vancouver — but what doomed the film was a calamitous test screening in Denver. Now titled Ladies and Gentlemen, The Fabulous Stains, it became a staple on USA Network’s zombie schedule in the late ’80s but wasn’t available on home video until 2008, when Rhino Entertainment distributed the DVD.

Whether by strict design or happy accident — Dowd received an Academy Award for co-writing Coming Home, while Adler never directed again — Ladies and Gentlemen, The Fabulous Stains taps into an agitated rhythm, buzzing the two bit dives of the Rust Belt with bumblebee’s pace and never losing its sting. In addition to performances by Diane Lane and Laura Dern that feel both surly and vulnerable, the sublime cast is led by a cherub faced Ray Winstone. Former Sex Pistols guitarist Steve Jones and drummer Paul Cook (who together wrote three songs for the soundtrack) comprise an all-star punk band in The Looters, along with Paul Simonon from The Clash on bass. Playing tour manager, Barry Ford brings both diversity and a sense of truth to the story, which neither advocates coloring inside the lines or ripping up the paper purely for anarchy’s sake.

Rotten Tomatoes “Tomatometer” average among 1,325 users: 64% for Ladies and Gentlemen, The Fabulous Stains

Metacritic “Metascore” average among leading critics: N/A

What do you say?

“Talking about it was so important to that film. I think some people could despise it. If you don’t like the story or what it’s saying, then you just end up hating everything. It’s not a movie for everybody. Some people really dug it. Others thought it was disgusting and sick. And, of course, it is but it has two sides. You have to have the contrasts. Films should have power. The power of good and the power of darkness, so you can get some thrills and shake things up a bit. If you back off from that stuff, you’re shooting right down into lukewarm junk.” David Lynch interviewed by Chris Rodley for Lynch on Lynch

Blue Velvet (1986)
Directed by David Lynch
Written by David Lynch
Produced by Fred Caruso
120 minutes

Taken at face value, Blue Velvet is the most primal tribute to Alfred Hitchcock to be conjured by another director outside of Alfred Hitchcock. Shadow of a Doubt found diabolism under the eaves in a small town, Rear Window warned voyeurs against peeping through the blinds of their neighbors and Blue Velvet hands out literature with a similar message, complete with a portrait of evil more unsettling than Psycho. If David Lynch had been satisfied making a thriller about other thrillers, his fourth motion picture would have still been one of the decade’s most powerful. Kyle MacLachlan (in his second film role after debuting as The Chosen One in Lynch’s unwieldily adaptation of Dune) plays Jeffrey Beaumont, a college student who returns to his “woodsy” hometown of Lumberton after his father suffers a terrifying stroke.

Strolling home, Jeffrey discovers a human ear in a field. The police detective on the case stays mum on who belongs to the ear, but his teenaged daughter Sandy (Laura Dern) is game to let Jeffrey in on what she’s heard through the walls, specifically, the name of a singer named Dorothy Vallens (Isabella Rossellini). Jeffrey’s thirst for “knowledge and experience” leads him to Dorothy’s apartment on the dark side of town. He’s forced to take cover in a closet and see what should have been left unseen: an amyl nitrate inhaling psychopath named Frank Booth (Dennis Hopper) has kidnapped Dorothy’s son and husband, clipping off her spouse’s ear to keep the songstress dependent on him. Jeffrey is repulsed by and attracted to his subject and it takes more than a hell ride with Frank and his crew for him to put Dorothy Vallens out of mind.

David Lynch grew up in Spokane and began noodling on Blue Velvet as early as 1973, starting with Bobby Vinton’s haunting version of the melody, some suburban mise-en-scène and Lynch’s obsession with sneaking into a girl’s room at night, where a mystery might be revealed while he watched her. The script frightened Warner Bros. and perplexed Lynch, specifically, how it should end. He accepted an offer to adapt and direct Dune for Dino De Laurentiis and though the results didn’t live up to expectations, De Laurentiis rolled the dice on Lynch again and his gamble paid off. The National Society of Film Critics voted Blue Velvet the Best Picture of 1986, but with Children of a Lesser God, Hannah and Her Sisters, The Mission, Platoon and A Room with a View vying for Best Picture, Blue Velvet was left in the dark at the Oscars.

With the eerie steadiness of a planchette being nudged across a ouija board, the mastery of Blue Velvet is how it drifts away from safety and discovers perversity lurking under what passes for normal in the suburbs. In terms of visual composition, this is watercolor come to life. Cinematographer Frederick Elmes immerses the film in electric blues, verdant greens and nightmare black. Even with extras who look like they were stolen from a circus, there’s not a bad performance in the picture; Kyle MacLachlan, Isabella Rossellini and Dennis Hopper have never been stronger, with Hopper cracking the screen with white trash intensity. In the daylight scenes, Lynch lets his infectious sense of humor come out to play. After dark, he forces viewers to question the foundation of evil. Angelo Badalamenti composed the lush orchestral score.

Rotten Tomatoes “Tomatometer” average among 67,823 users: 88% for Blue Velvet

Metacritic “Metascore” average among leading critics: N/A

What do you say?

This month’s theme was hatched after yet another person with better taste than me recommended that I add the 2005 romantic drama Shopgirl to my queue. Looking for nine more films with similar themes, “Cat Food”, “Rain” and “Corset” were all considered and rejected before I settled on “May December Romance”. So in the month of December, I’ll take a look at love separated by much more than just six months on the calendar.

Beautiful Girls (1996)
Directed by Ted Demme
Written by Scott Rosenberg
Produced by Cary Woods
112 minutes

Like a Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer for Generation X, Beautiful Girls has carved its niche as holiday comfort food that tastes great every year. Following his first produced screenplay Things To Do In Denver When You’re Dead, Scott Rosenberg signed a deal with Touchstone Pictures. He submitted a treatment for his first assignment Con Air and waiting for word in Boston while snowplows dug through a blizzard, it occurred to Rosenberg that the real action was in his hometown, where friends were dealing with commitment as they hit their third decade. Rosenberg emerged from his room five days later with a script. Brian Grazer, Ridley Scott and Mace Neufeld were interested, but producer Cary Woods and Miramax Films won the bidding. Rosenberg worked on a dozen drafts with James L. Brooks before the director decided he didn’t relate much with blue collar 30-year-olds and dropped out.

Ted Demme wasn’t much older than the characters in the script and was ultimately hired to direct. His aesthetic influence was The Deer Hunter and preferring “Knight’s Ridge” to look as worn down and as frozen in time as possible, opted to shoot the film in Minnesota. With 17 characters packed into a 1 hour 50 minute movie, there are segments of Beautiful Girls that work much better than others: Michael Rapaport as a local yokel obsessed with fashion models, a Neil Diamond sing-along and (no joke) Rosie O’Donnell chart high, while the “romance” between Natalie Portman and Timothy Hutton remains the #1 reason to see the movie, an episodic comedy drama that never spells out its intentions or dumbs itself down. The script is a series of insights in search of a story, but after a few years, you not only feel you know these characters, but look forward to spending time with them.

Lounge playing piano man Willie Conway (Timothy Hutton) scrapes together enough cash for bus fare from New York City back home to the town of “Knight’s Ridge” for his 10-year high school reunion. Willie discovers that his friends never really left. Tommy (Matt Dillon) runs a plowing company and clings to his glory days by sleeping with ex-cheerleader Darian (Lauren Holly). Tommy’s loyal girlfriend Sharon (Mira Sorvino) copes with his behavior by focusing on her weight, which her brassy pal Gina (Rosie O’Donnell) sees as a perpetuation of male fantasy. Paul (Michael Rapaport) pushes away his girlfriend Jan (Martha Plimpton) by refusing to accept she isn’t cheating on him with the meat cutter. He buys her  a brown engagement ring and when she refuses to marry him, Paul buries Jan’s driveway in snow.

The quiet Kev (Max Perlich) also shovels snow for a living but aspires to do little more than work all day and drink all night. Husband and father Mo (Noah Emmerich) seems to be the only genuine grownup among the group. The weekend takes a detour with the entrance of Andrea (Uma Thurman), a beautiful and cool import from Chicago visiting Knight’s Ridge to see her cousin “Stinky” (Pruitt Taylor Vince), who runs the tavern the boys drink at. Each of the guys take turns trying to impress her, to little avail. Willie’s girlfriend and possible fiancée (Annabeth Gish) soon joins him, but the 29-year-old musician confides his commitment fears to a kindred spirit, the soulful 13-year-old who lives next door, Marty (Natalie Portman). She suggests Willie wait to get married until he meets someone who excites him. By Willie’s math, when Marty turns 23, he’ll only be 39.

Rotten Tomatoes “Tomatometer” average among 4,746 users: 79% for Beautiful Girls

Metacritic “Metascore” average among leading critics: 64 for Beautiful Girls

What do you say?

This month’s theme was hatched after someone with much better taste recommended that I add the 2005 romantic drama Shopgirl to my queue. Looking for nine more films with similar themes, “Based on Novel”, “Redhead” and “Salesgirl” were all considered and rejected before I settled on “May December Romance”. So in the month of December, I’ll take a look at love separated by much more than just six months on the calendar.

Crazy Heart (2009)
Directed by Scott Cooper
Screenplay by Scott Cooper, based on the novel by Thomas Cobb
Produced by Scott Cooper, Robert Duvall, Rob Carliner, Judy Cairo, T Bone Burnett
112 minutes

Stripped down to longing, regret and inspiration, Crazy Heart is the film version of a country tune, small but perfect. A journeyman actor, Scott Cooper’s role in Gods and Generals mostly hit the cutting room floor. He did get to work with Robert Duvall and the two became friends. An aspiring writer-director, Cooper’s grand ambition was to make the life story of Merle Haggard. He spent a year on the road with the recording legend, whose life rights the aspiring filmmaker realized were knotted in legal thorns. Luckily, an acquaintance gave Cooper a copy of Thomas Cobb’s 1987 novel Crazy Heart, the tale of a boozed up and beat down songwriter equal parts Merle Haggard, Waylon Jennings and Townes Van Zandt, Cooper’s musical heroes. He adapted a script and with the support of Robert Duvall, ultimately got his two wishes, landing the talents of music producer T Bone Burnett and actor Jeff Bridges.

Filmed mostly in New Mexico on a brisk 24-day schedule with a budget of $7 million, Crazy Heart rode universal critical acclaim all the way to the Academy Awards, where Ryan Bingman & T Bone Burnett (Best Original Song) and Jeff Bridges (Best Actor) won Oscars. Not as haunted as Robert Duvall’s down and out Max Sledge in Tender Mercies, Jeff Bridges channels the spirit of Kris Kristofferson, growling and fumbling his way through a character who’s a songwriter first, alcoholic second and entertainer further down the line. Cooper’s take on the material is character driven and nuanced, rejecting show business melodrama for a lower and far richer key. The soundtrack boasts some of the best original music I’ve heard in a movie in a long time, while the incomparable Maggie Gyllenhaal leads a fine supporting cast that includes Tom Bower, Rick Dial, Colin Farrell and ol’ Duvall himself.

Driving his ’78 Chevy Suburban into Pueblo, New Mexico, singer-songwriter Bad Blake (Jeff Bridges) is as disgusted to be booked into a bowling alley as he is to learn that his contract does not include a bar tab. 57 years old and flat broke, Bad rejects an offer relayed by his Beverly Hills manager (Paul Herman) to write some new songs for Tommy Sweet, a former protégé of Bad’s who is now a country music superstar. Barely making it through a set before puking his guts out, Bad fares much better in Santa Fe, where a piano player (Rick Dial) convinces the musician to grant a rare interview to his niece, an aspiring journalist. Dropping by his motel room while her subject scoops his dinner wearing only a towel, Jean Craddock (Maggie Gyllenhaal) brings out the best in Bad, though he declines to answer any questions about Tommy Sweet or his children.

Continuing her interview over two-night his stop in Santa Fe, Jean’s spirit seems to drop the years off Bad. After sleeping together, she agrees to let him bake biscuits for her 4-year-old son, who takes an immediate liking to the Texan. Bad swallows his pride and accepts an offer to open for Tommy Sweet in Phoenix. In spite of his super stardom, Tommy (Colin Farrell) extends gratitude toward his broken down mentor, even joining him on stage. Bad makes a beeline back to Santa Fe, falling asleep at the wheel and rolling the Suburban. He ignores doctor’s orders to quit drinking and implores Jean to come visit him back home in Houston. The romance inspires Bad to write new material for the first time in years and to telephone his estranged 28-year-old son, but his drinking takes a sudden toll on the relationship when Jean arrives for a visit with her son.

Rotten Tomatoes “Tomatometer” average among 101,594 users: 72% for Crazy Heart

Metacritic “Metascore” average among leading critics: 83 for Crazy Heart

What do you say?

Logging in to Netflix Instant for a movie to watch is like being hungry and shown to a food replicator. It doesn’t solve my problem — it introduces one thousand new ones. Luckily, I can see which genres are rated higher in nutritional content, in this case, 4 or 4 ½ star ratings out of 5 stars. “Documentary” had a lot of those. So did “Anime & Animation”. In the month of November, I take another trip around the globe to sample recent animated feature films. Next stop: Brussels, Belgium.

A Town Called Panic (2009)
Directed by Stéphane Aubier, Vincent Patar
Screenplay by Stéphane Aubier & Vincent Patar, story by Stéphane Aubier, Guillaume Malandrin, Vincent Patar & Vincent Tavier
Produced by Philippe Kauffmann, Vincent Tavier
77 minutes

If Pee-wee and his pals in the playhouse were still on Saturday morning television, A Town Called Panic would be exactly the type of entertainment they’d get a kick out of. Belgian animators Stéphane Aubier & Vincent Patar became friends while attending visual arts school La Cambre during the 1980s. For his thesis project, Aubier crafted a manic stop-motion short out of generic toy figurines — cowboys, Indians, farm animals — and papier-mâché sets. Their professors were unimpressed, but in 2000, Aubier & Patar returned to the concept, writing, directing and supplying voices for several 5-minute shorts co-written and produced by Vincent Tavier. Dubbed from French to English and distributed on Nickelodeon U.K. by Aardman Studios, A Town Called Panic was such a hit that Aubier & Patar were hooked into making a feature length film.

Aubier & Patar settled on remaking an episode titled “The Card Thief”, which juxtaposed hijinks in town with the world of Atlantis that existed underneath. Their tiny team in Brussels spent 260 shooting days putting 1,500 plastic figurines through their paces. The result is a comic jewel, rapid fire in its wit, textured in its characters and as crazy as a peach orchard boar. A Town Called Panic is probably too good to be called a cartoon. Its herky jerky stop-motion animation is charming, but it’s Aubier & Patar’s willingness to lob balls into left field — rather than cater purely to kids — that makes their work so special. Amid the madness, characters that are little more than plastic figurines with excitable voices resonate with more emotion than human beings in contemporary live action movies seem to be able to. Viewers seeking laughs and little more are likely to have a field day here.

A day in the town of Kir begins like any other. A bicycle postman delivers a package to temperamental farmer Steven (Benoît Poelvoorde), as well as a parcel to the Gendarme (Frédéric Jannin) who maintains law and order. Coboy (Stéphane Aubier) and Indien (Bruce Ellison) are rousted from sleep when Postman visits them next. Over breakfast, their roommate Horse (Vincent Patar) mentions that today is his birthday. Desperate to find a gift on such short notice, Indien hits on the idea of building Horse a barbecue. To distract him, Steven sends Horse on an errand to pick his children up at school. There, the chemistry between Horse and equine music teacher Madame Longrée (Jeanne Balibar) is palpable. Ordering the bricks to build Horse a barbecue, Coboy enters 50,000,000 units on the computer instead of 50. Upon delivery, panic grips Coboy and Indien.

Other than Steven getting angered when his wife Janine (Véronique Dumont) dances with Postman, Horse’s birthday party goes off without a hitch. After dark, Horse is awakened when the 50,000,000 bricks Coboy and Indien stashed on the roof crush their house to smithereens. Once he throttles his roommates, Horse begins rebuilding the walls of their house. Once night falls, thieves make off with their walls. Adding two plus two and getting five, Gendarme throws Steven in prison for the crime. To prove their neighbor’s innocence, Horse, Coboy and Indien stake out the scene of the crime the following evening and catch three sea monsters robbing them. Pursuing the mischievous creatures to the ends of the earth, Horse places himself in serious jeopardy of being tardy to the piano lessons Madame Longrée has invited him to.

Rotten Tomatoes “Tomatometer” average among 1,811 users: 86% for A Town Called Panic

Metacritic “Metascore” average among leading critics: 70 for A Town Called Panic

What do you say?

As days get shorter, nights get longer and All Hallow’s Eve beckons, I can say that I won’t be wandering the streets dressed as Chewbacca begging for candy. What I can’t say is whether or not at my age, horror movies still have any surprises left in them. In the search for originality, it’d be a good idea to start anywhere but Hollywood. For the month of October, I take a trip around the globe to see what’s scaring some of my favorite countries these days.

Requiem (2006)
Directed by Hans-Christian Schmid
Written by Bernd Lange
Produced by Hans-Christian Schmid
93 minutes

Grounded with strong performances and anchored in restraint worthy of a parish priest, Requiem is a horror film on a spiritual fast. Hans-Christian Schmid grew up in a small town in Bavaria and had heard of Anneliese Michel, a college student who died in 1976 after the Catholic Church resorted to exorcism rites to treat her demonic visions. Schmid began sketching treatments in 1997 and partnering with screenwriter Bernd Lange, they finished a script in 2004. Their project secured financing from German public television companies BR (Bavarian Broadcasting), SWR (Southwest Broadcasting), WDR (West German Broadcasting) as well as the Franco-German TV network Arte. In her film debut, Sandra Hüller won the Silver Bear for Best Actress at the 2006 Berlin Film Festival, while critics awarded Requiem the FIPRESCI Prize.

A U.S. production titled The Exorcism of Emily Rose (2005) starring Laura Linney and Tom Wilkinson was loosely based on the court case surrounding the Anneliese Michel story. While that version beat Requiem into theaters, the German production rejects special effects and the supernatural, focusing on mental illness and religious dogma and what would lead a normal college girl to an exorcism. Whether this approach was taken for prestige or for lack of money — most of the film is shot handheld by Polish cinematographer Bogumil Godfrejow — the tension in this “horror movie without any horror” is palpable. In her film debut, Sandra Hüller won the Silver Bear for Best Actress at the 2006 Berlin Film Festival for conveying something as raw and intense as any team of makeup effects technicians could.

In a small West German town in the 1970s, a 21-year-old devout Catholic named Michaela Klingler (Sandra Hüller) is elated by news that she’s been accepted into university at Tübingen. Her strict mother (Imogen Kogge) uses Michaela’s epilepsy to argue against her leaving home, but appealing to her sympathetic father (Burghart Klaußner) that the pills she’s been prescribed have enabled her to go six months without a spell, Michaela is moved in to her dorm by her father himself. In pedagogy class, she makes friends with a high school acquaintance, Hanna (Anna Blomeier). Michaela takes a parish pilgrimage with her family to the Italian shrine of St. Katherine, where her mother gives her a rosary. Sitting alone in a cafeteria, Michaela’s rosary falls to the floor. Trying to pick it up, she becomes paralyzed with fright and goes into a seizure.

With Michaela’s father covering for his daughter by keeping the spell a secret, Michaela begins to blossom at school, sporting a new hairstyle, new fashions and even finding a boyfriend in a chemistry major (Nicholas Reinke). But when Hanna finds Michaela collapsed on the floor of her dorm room one morning, she insists that her friend visit a doctor. When X-rays prove inconclusive, Michaela visits her parish priest (Walter Schmidinger) and reveals that whenever she tries to pray, hideous faces and voices torment her. The priest refuses to accept this, but is concerned enough to visit Michaela at school with Father Borchert (Jens Harzer), a young vicar who is more open minded to Michaela’s story. As Michaela’s spells grow more intense, Borchert contends that the best way to rid the girl of her demons is through an exorcism.

Rotten Tomatoes “Tomatometer” average among 1,578 users: 64% for Requiem

Metacritic “Metascore” average among leading critics: 82 for Requiem

What do you say?

As days get shorter, nights get longer and All Hallow’s Eve beckons, I can say that I won’t be wandering the streets dressed as Chewbacca begging for candy. What I can’t say is whether or not at my age, horror movies still have any surprises left in them. In the search for originality, it’d be a good idea to start anywhere but Hollywood. For the month of October, I take a trip around the globe to see what’s scaring some of my favorite countries these days.

Eden Lake (2008)
Directed by James Watkins
Written by James Watkins
Produced by Christian Colson, Richard Holmes
91 minutes

Eden Lake leads up to a potent and brutally uncompromising ending with 80 minutes of willful disregard for even a dribble of intelligence. Screenwriter James Watkins was disheartened seeing his name on junk and renegotiated his contract with Working Title Flilms to include an opt-out. Titled Little Terrors, that script was an update on morally ambiguous thrillers of the ‘70s like Straw Dogs or Deliverance. Taking the project to Christian Colson, the producer was interested enough to finance two short films — one based on the idea, the second on 10 pages of a torture scene — for Watkins to show what he could do behind the camera. Retitled Eden Lake, Colson & Richard Holmes raised a budget of £2 million (roughly $4 million USD) and a six-week shooting schedule commenced at locations in Buckinghamshire County, as well as Pinewood Studios.

By the time Eden Lake was ready for release in late summer of 2008, recent teenage gang killings and violence against adults had become an obsession for the British media. Dimension Films had bought U.S. distribution rights, but gave the film a very limited stateside release in October 2008. Thanks to composer David Julyan and editor Jon Harris, Eden Lake is scored just like The Descent and paced like it too, making for a familiar yet highly watchable B-movie. Watkins has some good ideas on mood and style, but they can’t overcome a Yuppie couple put through the paces of a slasher movie, where one logical decision would have ended the whole ordeal. It’s hard to tell whether the film is entertaining because it’s good or entertaining because its idiocy provokes such a visceral response. Casting director Julie Harkin deserves credit for helping assemble a mean pack of kids.

Schoolteacher Jenny (Kelly Reilly) is picked up from work by boyfriend Steve (Michael Fassbender), who secretly plans on proposing to his girlfriend during a weekend camping trip. Their destination is a flooded quarry soon to be restricted by a new housing development called Eden Lake. Hiking through dense forest, the first soul the couple encounters is a skittish boy (James Gandhi) drawing a picture. Jenny & Steve settle on the lakeshore only to have their relaxation rudely interrupted by the appearance of six rowdy 12-year-olds and their Rottweiler. Steve attempts to parlay with the hooded hellions, whose ringleader Brett (Jack O’Connell) refuses to turn down their boom box or rein in his beloved dog. The busters eventually move on, but as night falls, Jenny gets the feeling someone is in the woods.

The next morning, Steve punctures a tire backing over a trap. Venturing into town with Jenny for breakfast, he spots bikes belonging to the mouse pack dumped outside a house. Snooping around, he has to slip out a window when Brett’s dad comes home in an even hotter rage than his son. Attempting to salvage the weekend back at the lake, Jenny & Steve have their car keys, phone and wallet nicked. Wandering the woods until they find the brats, Steve confronts them. In the scuffle that ensues, Brett’s dog is accidentally stabbed. Trying to make a getaway, Steve crashes the 4×4. Trapped inside, he tells Jenny to run for it. Steve is bound with barbed wire and cut up by each of the boys, most of them under pressure from Brett. When they discover Jenny still lurking around, the chase is on to remove all evidence of their rampage.

Rotten Tomatoes “Tomatometer” average among 6,109 users: 65% for Eden Lake

Metacritic “Metascore” average among leading critics: Not available

What do you say?

As days get shorter, nights get longer and All Hallow’s Eve beckons, I can say that I won’t be wandering the streets dressed as Chewbacca begging for candy. What I can’t say is whether or not at my age, horror movies still have any surprises left in them. In the search for originality, it’d be a good idea to start anywhere but Hollywood. For the month of October, I take a trip around the globe to see what’s scaring some of my favorite countries these days.

Rogue (2007)
Directed by Greg Mclean
Written by Greg Mclean
Produced by Greg Mclean, Matt Hearn, David Lightfoot
99 minutes

As a sum of its parts, Rogue is kind of okay, but saying that movie about a giant croc is kind of okay is the same as calling it a failure. Greg Mclean had three inspirations for what became his sophomore feature film: the hero myth, the 1956 Australian documentary Northern Safari and the monster movies of his youth, particularly Jaws and Alien. He was unable to set up financing for this vision, but that changed when Mclean’s debut feature film — a lurid serial killer thriller titled Wolf Creek — screened at the 2005 Cannes Film Festival. Making the rounds in Hollywood with his script for Rogue, Mclean had three conditions: to cast whoever he wanted, to shoot in Australia and to retain final cut. Agreeing to those terms was Dimension Films, which put up a $25 million budget. Melbourne based co-producer and co-financier Village Roadshow Pictures bought a 50% stake in the film.

Exterior shooting took place both in Nitmiluk National Park and at a manmade lake in Warburton, where the crew built an island and shot nights for five weeks. The croc’s lair was constructed at Melbourne Central City Studios. Not lacking in ambition, Rogue aims for more targets — epic adventure, creature feature, nature film — than Mclean has learned to hit. As if sensitive to complaints that Wolf Creek was exploitative junk, he bleeds virtually all the cheap thrill out of what could have been a fun B-movie. The result is an even less enjoyable ride than Wolf Creek was for the opposite reason: it goes under-the-top. Michael Vartan — who has no real business acting in movies — is bland in the lead role, but an Aussie cast led by Radha Mitchell, Sam Worthington and John Jarratt (the psycho bushman from Wolf Creek) acquit themselves wonderfully.

Somewhere in the Northern Territory, American travel writer Pete McKell (Michael Vartan) arrives to take a river cruise wearing a suit because the airline lost his luggage. After visiting a bar where a wall is dedicated to press clipping of crocodile attacks, Pete boards Ryan’s Wildlife River Cruise. Also on the tour are skipper Kate Ryan (Radha Mitchell), a contentious American couple (Caroline Brazier, Robert Taylor), photography nerd (Stephen Curry), family (Geoff Morrell, Heather Mitchell, Mia Wasikowska), tourist (Celia Ireland), widower (John Jarratt) and a border collie. In addition to crocs, the tourists meet Kate’s ex-boyfriend Neil (Sam Worthington), a hot shot who briefly intercepts the cruise to make an ass of himself. Before Kate decides to head back to port, her passengers observe a flare being fired into the horizon. The captain investigates.

Arriving in a remote lagoon, their vessel is attacked by a giant crocodile. Taking on water, Kate runs her boat onto an island. Her radios are dead and her flares are floating in the lagoon, but a bigger problem is that they’re stranded on a tidal river slowly rising over the ground of their safe haven. One of the tourists gets too close to the water and disappears. Rescue appears imminent when Neil and his buddy arrive, but their boat is capsized by the croc, stranding Neil with the others. He volunteers to swim quietly to shore and rig a line high enough for the others to pull themselves across by. When that plan fails and two more victims are snapped up by the croc, Pete proposes using a hook to snare the animal long enough for them to swim to safety. Kate doesn’t make it. Led to the croc’s lair by the skipper’s dog, Peter finds Kate alive, but the croc soon joins them.

Rotten Tomatoes “Tomatometer” average among 3,993 users: 52% for Rogue

Metacritic “Metascore” average among leading critics: Not available

What do you say?