THE THIEF OF BAGDAD (1924) ***

Douglas Fairbanks stars as a miscreant thief who is content on picking pockets and living life like a complete scoundrel.  One day, he spies a fair princess (Julanne Johnston) and falls head over heels in love with her.  Wearing garments he’s stolen from the bazaar, the thief poses as a prince to win her hand, but is flogged publicly when his true identity is discovered.  Afterwards, a contest is held, and it is declared that the man who brings back the rarest treasure will take the princess as his bride.  The thief then goes off into the desert and faces various perils in order to find a precious treasure and prove his love. 

Fairbanks is a lot of fun to watch, especially while performing feats of derring-do and flashing his Cheshire Cat smile.  The real star though is production designer William Cameron Menzies who combines the lavish sets with the amazing costumes and the incredible special effects with eye-popping pizzazz.  Even when you can spot the seams in the matte work, the artistry needed to coordinate all those departments together (particularly for the time) is considerable.  One thing is for sure, there’s more imagination and old-fashioned movie magic on display in one given frame of this movie than many modern-day blockbusters have in their entirety. 

At 155 minutes, The Thief of Bagdad is really way too long for its own good. Things get particularly pokey during the middle section.  Once Fairbanks goes on his quest, the movie kicks into fourth gear and moves at dizzying speed.  In this stretch of the film, he fights a giant lizard, encounters a creepy looking tree man, and does battle with an enormous bat.  I think my favorite moment though was Fairbanks’ duel to the death with a vicious looking sea spider.  Too bad these scenes are rather fleeting and are quickly over before they can really begin, but monster movie fans are sure to love the creature designs.  The famous scenes of Fairbanks riding on a magic carpet pack a punch too.  

Despite the sometimes-overwhelming length, this Thief of Bagdad is a lot more fun that 1940 remake, which was co-directed by Menzies.

AKA:  The Thief of Bagdad:  An Arabian Nights Fantasy.

FINAL ROUND (1994) **

Lorenzo Lamas and his then-wife Kathleen Kinmont were the Bogey and Bacall of early ‘90s straight-to-video kickboxing movies.  This isn’t one of their finest hours, but it’s an acceptable time waster for fans who don’t mind unimaginative Most Dangerous Game variations.  After directing Lamas in three consecutive Snake Eater movies, George Erschbamer once again collaborated with Lamas for this flick.  Sadly, the touches of humor that made those films so much fun are used sparingly.  

A team of “Hunters” with cameras attached to their eyeballs chase unwilling contestants through an abandoned industrial complex while people around the world watch via satellite and bet on the outcome.  Kinmont is a spotter for the underground gambling corporation who picks Lamas to be the next contestant.  Naturally, Lamas bucks the odds as he takes out more and more Hunters.  Before long, people are placing bets on him to survive the game, which puts the livelihood of the corporation in jeopardy.

This was mostly a long slog, but there are one or two funny bits that kept it from being a total snoozer.  I highly enjoyed Lamas’ bar fight where he picks a guy up and sticks his head in a whirring ceiling fan.  He also gets a long Skinamax style sex scene with Kinmont that seemingly goes on forever.  My favorite moment was when a fellow contestant referred to the pair as “Sleazy and Cheesy”, causing Lamas to pause a moment and ask, “Wait, which one of us is ‘Cheesy’?”

Too bad the subplot that explores the business side of the underground gambling operation slows things down considerably.  Every time the film switches away from the action to focus on random phone operators taking bets or the head of the organization getting into a beef with his former underworld employer, it takes the wind out of its own sails.  Seeing the intricacies of the organization at work aren’t nearly as successful as the similar scenes in Hostel 2.  All they do is get in the way of the fun of seeing Lamas kickboxing and flambeeing dudes with cameras in their faces.  

At one point, Lamas says, “I think I’ve seen this movie before.”  You’ll probably feel the same way.  

Producer Robert Vince later went on to direct dozens of Air Bud movies.  

AKA:  Human Target.  

THE SEA WOLF (1993) ***

Cultured aristocrat Humphrey Van Weyden (Christopher Reeve) and pickpocket Flaxen Brewster (Catherine Mary Stewart) are the only survivors of a massive shipwreck.  After drifting a sea, they are eventually picked up by the crew of “The Ghost”, whose cruel captain Wolf Larsen (Charles Bronson) rules the ship with an iron fist.  He takes pleasure in putting the dandy Van Weyden to work as a cabin boy and delights in trying to break him both mentally and physically.  It’s then up to “Hump” to man up and outwit the captain at his own game aboard his own ship.

Based on the classic novel by Jack London and directed by Michael (Logan’s Run) Anderson, this made for TNT original is a solid effort all around.  If there is a drawback, it’s that it’s the kind of movie your dad (or grandfather) would watch.  The made for TV nature of the film also makes for an awfully tame adventure.  I’m sure it could be shown in English class without raising so much as an eyebrow.

For fans of Charles Bronson, this will be well worth watching as it’s easily one of his best latter-day performances.  He’s engaged, enraged, and commands the screen with ferocity.  Heck, he has more dialogue here than he did in the last three Death Wish movies combined.

Reeve makes for a good foil to Bronson’s embittered captain.  It’s fun seeing him slowly transform from aristocratic dandy to hardened seafarer and matching wits with the cunning captain who is a lot smarter (and more dangerous) than he lets on.  Marc Singer also fares well as a mutinous crew member, but unfortunately, Stewart doesn’t have much to do until the movie’s almost over.   

Bottom Line:  Even though the Made for TV budget hamstrings The Sea Wolf from really setting sail, it’s impossible to hate any movie in which Paul Kersey fights Superman while The Beastmaster looks on.

AKA:  Captain Larsen.

COSMOPOLIS (2012) *

Cosmopolis is David Cronenberg at his most basic.  It’s cold and detached, populated with characters that exhibit no feeling during sex, and even contains some body horror elements.  (In one scene, Robert Pattinson says, “My prostate is asymmetrical” with the same feeling as someone talking about the weather.)  Strip away the gooey special effects, warped sexual predilections, and psychological underpinnings of his best work, and I’m afraid all you’re left with is a stifling, self-loathing, and lethargic bore.  This is easily his all-time worst film. 

Pattinson stars as a billionaire who takes his high-tech limo to get a haircut.  There’s a lot going on in the city on that particular day.  The President is in town, a rapper’s funeral procession is going through, and there’s a big anarchist protest happening in the middle of the streets.  All this causes the limo to move at a crawl.  Because of that, he’s able to have several meetings with people inside the limo and even have lunch with his wife (Sarah Gadon) in a cafe and not miss a beat.  After several bizarre run-ins, the billionaire comes face to face with a disgruntled former employee (Paul Giamatti) who wants to kill him.

Cosmopolis is a lifeless, allegorical bore.  If you thought Pattinson looked half asleep in those Twilight movies, wait till you see him here.  There are times where you almost want to check his pulse.  There’s a scene late in the film where he asks his head of security to zap him with a taser so he can feel something.  I swear to God I never rooted for someone to be tasered so bad in my entire life.  Too bad the film is so inert that it can’t even deliver on that simple pleasure.  If his performance of a self-absorbed billionaire with lots of high-tech gadgets at his disposal is any indication, we are in serious trouble when that new Batman flick comes out.

Pattinson’s various run-ins with employees and lovers are long, dull, and interchangeable.  Even when it looks like something is going to finally happen in the climax, it doesn’t.  The finale confrontation with Giamatti goes on far too long and the ending is downright infuriating.

Gadon gets the best line of the movie when she suspects him of having an affair and says, “You reek of sexual discharge.” 

BIRDS OF PREY (AND THE FANTABULOUS EMANCIPATION OF ONE HARLEY QUINN) (2020) * ½

After a disappointing opening weekend, Warner Brothers and DC quietly changed the name of Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) to a more streamlined Harley Quinn:  Birds of Prey.  (The version I saw kept the needlessly wordy original title intact.)  The more I think about it though, the newer title is shockingly a lot more accurate.  This is a Harley Quinn movie with precious little Birds of Prey action.  The original title seems to suggest that the Birds of Prey would be the main focus with Harley Quinn’s parenthetical adventure being almost an afterthought.  That is not the case however as Harley dominates the movie.  So much so that the Birds of Prey probably only get about ten or fifteen minutes of screen time together as an actual team.  

The schizophrenic title should’ve been my tip-off that this was going to suck.  It immediately clues you in on how the movie gratuitously winks at the camera and thinks it’s oh-so precious and clever when it’s really just a noisy, ugly, and obnoxious slog.  Like the title, the picture itself is unnecessarily cluttered with a lot of extra nonsense that a more experienced director would’ve chunked in favor of forward motion.  As it is, it’s full of a bunch of little asides, flashbacks, and mini-origin stories in search of a feature film.  

For the record, I think a standalone Birds of Prey movie would’ve worked.  I also believe a Harley Quin spin-off could’ve been great.  Frankensteining the two projects together does neither property any favors.

I liked Margot Robbie as much as anyone did in Suicide Squad.  She was easily the best thing about that film.  Here, the filmmakers make her the centerpiece, which wasn’t a bad idea in theory.  However, their approach is to make the movie as colorful, rambunctious, and chaotic as the main character, which is a crucial mistake.  It’s so all over the place you might have to sprinkle a little ADHD medication over your popcorn to make sense of it.  You know you’re in trouble when the usually energetic Rosie Perez gives the most subdued performance.  

Fans of the Birds of Prey TV show and comics will probably be mystified by the handling of the non-Harley characters.  Black Canary (Jurnee Smollett-Bell) only uses her sonic scream once and Cassandra Cain (Ella Jay Basco) has more in common with Oliver Twist than Batgirl.  Only Mary Elizabeth Winstead really nails her character, Huntress.  Even then, they try to make her comical, which feels kind of forced and isn’t very successful (although I liked her interactions with the team as she is not a people person).  I mean, where’s Oracle?  How they could do a Birds of Prey movie without her is beyond me.

Only Ewan McGregor shines as the villain, Black Mask.  He doesn’t take any of this nonsense seriously and is content to just chew on the scenery.  He gets a funny line or two, but that’s not nearly enough to make it worth the slog.  Chris Messina might’ve gotten to sink his teeth into the role of his henchman, Victor Zsasz, but he’s pretty much wasted.

Most of the movie plays like the byproduct of an offscreen bet between film departments to see who could louse up their job the most.  The costumes are atrocious, the lightning is garish, and the cinematography is ugly.  At least the fight scenes are coherent, although only one of them (Harley’s action sequence in the police station) is memorable.  

The R rating feels gratuitous too.  The adult approach to Joker and the in-joke snark of Deadpool warranted an R rating.  Here, it just feels like a tween who just found out they can say the word “fuck” and begin tossing it out whenever they feel like it.  

In short, Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous yada, yada, yada) is by far the worst DC Extended Universe movie and their worst effort since the much-maligned Superman Returns.

DC Extended Universe Scorecard:  

Batman v Superman:  Dawn of Justice: ****

Man of Steel:  ****

Aquaman:  *** ½

Wonder Woman:  *** ½

Justice League:  *** ½

Shazam!:  ***

Suicide Squad:  ***

Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn):  * ½

AKA:  Harley Quinn:  Birds of Prey.  

DATE BAIT (1960) ** ½

Brad (Richard Gering) is a disturbed hophead who gets out of jail to find his ex, Sue (Marlo Ryan) is now in the arms of Danny (Gary Clarke from How to Make a Monster).  Almost immediately, they begin brawling at the local juke joint.  Brad’s brother Nico, a small-time gangster who looks after him and mops up his messes, warns Danny to stay away from Sue.  Naturally, they end up eloping, which sends Brad over the edge. 

Date Bait comes to us from the makers of High School Caesar, and it’s a pretty sleazy juvenile delinquent movie for the time.  The surprising use of heroin (we see Brad with the needle, but not it going into his arm) is what makes it memorable.  I mean we’re not talking about The Man with the Golden Arm or anything here, but the fact that it broaches the subject of drug abuse so boldly (Gering’s wild-eyed junkie performance would look right at home in Reefer Madness) is enough to make you take notice.

Overall, this isn’t nearly as strong of a film as High School Caesar.  That’s mostly because the storyline isn’t quite as involving.  What made Caesar feel so fresh was that there weren’t a lot of unnecessary parents and guardians chastising their JD kids.  Date Bait is rife with them, and the scenes of the temperamental fathers grounding their daughters and unsympathetic big brothers not listening to their troubled siblings until it’s too late really bog things down.  Also, Clarke is merely serviceable in the lead and lacks the intensity of a John Ashley.  Gering is pretty good as the hopped-up dope fiend though.

While Date Bait lacks the energy of High School Caesar, director O’Dale Ireland does deliver a decent car chase sequence.  He also gives us enough scenes of teenagers dancing in malt shops to make it watchable.  Say what you will about the movie, but you have to respect any director who makes a film that features a scene where teenagers hold a calypso picnic.  That alone is enough to make you wish Ireland directed more stuff.  

HIGH SCHOOL CAESAR (1960) ***

John Ashley stars as Matt, a juvenile delinquent who runs a low-rent racketeering operation out of his high school.  Together with his hoodlum friends, they routinely shake down their fellow classmates.  This of course means he’s a natural fit for politics.  Matt rigs the election to get himself voted president of the student body and uses his newfound powers to have his flunkies steal test answers, which they sell for a profit.  The seeds of his downfall are sewn when he accidentally kills a classmate in a fit of road rage and flees the scene.

High School Caesar has everything you could possibly want in a juvenile delinquent movie.  It’s populated with greasers in leather jackets, flunkies with names like “Cricket” and “Stick”, hot rods, and teenagers dancing to rock n’ roll in malt shops.  This one is just different enough to distinguish itself from the rest of the pack.  For instance, most JD flicks feature drag racing.  In this one, it’s a big road race with over a dozen entrants tearing hell down a dirt road.  

I also appreciated the fact that the adults were largely absent from the picture.  That means there’s no useless subplots about town sheriffs warning teens about speeding or lame scenes of teachers trying to “reach” their students.  In fact, much is made about Ashley’s absentee parents being the cause of his delinquency.  He’s really just a misunderstood mixed-up kid looking for attention who’s lashing out because his rich daddy never hugged him.  Heck, he probably would’ve been okay if his dad called him now and again.

Writer/director/producer O’Dale Ireland only made one other movie, Date Bait, which was High School Caesar’s co-feature when it played on drive-in double bills.  That’s unfortunate too because he does a fine job, especially on the racing scenes.  He also gives the finale, in which Ashley’s peers turn on him, a dreamlike quality that is unlike many similar genre films of the time.