CLEANING OUT THE DVR: THE PHANTOM THIEF (1946) ** ½

I taped this off Turner Classic Movies on September 2, 2017.  It is the eleventh in a series of fourteen Boston Blackie movies starring Chester Morris.  It’s not one of Blackie’s best, but it’s a decent installment all things considered. 

This time out, Blackie’s sidekick, The Runt (George E. Stone) gets in hot water when he tries to help a childhood friend.  Together, they unwittingly steal a valuable necklace and soon, the cops are hot on their trail.  The pair turn to Boston Blackie for help, and before long, they wind up on the doorstep of a phony spiritualist, who invites them to a front row seat to his show.  Naturally, when the lights go out, The Runt’s buddy winds up dead.  The blowhard Detective Farraday (Richard Lane) arrives on the scene and as usual, wants to throw the book at Boston Blackie.  It’s then up to Blackie to escape Farraday’s clutches and get to the bottom of the mystery.

Although the overall quality of The Phantom Thief is a bit inconsistent, the séance scenes are a lot of fun, which helps make this entry feel like an old Monogram movie and/or Old Dark House murder mystery.  One sequence features hovering horns, a bedsheet ghost, and a disembodied hand flying about.  The bit where The Runt comes face to face with a floating skeleton is pretty funny too.  I just wish journeyman director D. Ross Lederman (who also directed the next Boston Blackie film, Boston Blackie and the Law) had leaned into the horror aspects a little more.

Other than that, there’s nothing else here to really separate The Phantom Thief from the other films in the Boston Blackie series.  The mystery itself isn’t particularly involving, and despite the hour-long running time, the pacing is a bit sluggish in the second half.  There are some amusing moments sprinkled about (like Blackie’s penchant for disguises), and Morris’ charm carries the movie a long way.  I don’t think it would be enough to convert newbies to the world of Boston Blackie, but it’s a serviceable sequel, nonetheless. 

CLEANING OUT THE DVR: JASON BOURNE (2016) * ½

I recorded this off HBO (I think we might’ve actually been getting HBO at this point and not just waiting around for free previews, but I can’t exactly remember) back on July 28, 2017. 

After sitting out the fourth Bourne movie, The Bourne Legacy, Matt Damon returned for the fifth in the franchise, Jason Bourne.  I don’t know why they just didn’t go ahead and call it Bourne Again.  Or perhaps ReBourne.  Then again, when has Hollywood done anything that’s made sense? 

I think the most accurate title for this boring mess would’ve been Still Bourne.

Now I’ve never been a big Bourne fan.  The first one was OK, but I couldn’t bring myself to enjoy the Paul Greengrass-directed sequels.  That’s mostly because they relied far too heavily on shaky-cam bullshit, and not just during the action sequences, but for the dialogue scenes as well.  Unfortunately, Damon brought him along to the party for this installment.  You know what that means:  We’re in the shaky-cam city limits once again.  (For the record, I never saw Damon-and-Greengrass-less The Bourne Legacy, so it might even be good for all I know.)

Almost out of spite, Greengrass lets the shaky-cam shit fly right out of the shoot.  He piles it on from the very first frame and never looks back either.  You can’t even have a shot of someone picking up a telephone or a simple glimpse at a computer monitor without the camera jittering around or zooming in and out unnecessarily.  I think it’s about time he let the cameraman switch to decaf.

It’s hard to say what lured Damon, Greengrass, and company back for this one as the script is trite and cliché.  I mean they even do the Hot Shots Part Deux thing where Bourne has been spending all his time away participating in underground boxing tournaments.  The cliches don’t stop there as Bourne’s old acquaintance (Julia Stiles) quickly arrives on the scene to coax Bourne out of hiding with the old promise of There’s More to the Story You Don’t Know^TM.  Naturally, that leads to her murder, which sends Bourne on a Quest for Revenge^TM.  Oh, and would you be surprised to know it all has to do with our Hero’s Daddy Issues^TM?

I guess the crappy craftsmanship and cliched script could’ve been somewhat forgiven if we had a character we actually cared about.  Too bad Damon turns in what has got to be his all-time worst performance.  He looks barely awake half the time and doesn’t even emote once.  Unless you count glowering at a CIA agent or grimacing while being punched “emoting”.

The villains are pretty bland too, which is odd since they got some big names to fill their shoes.  Tommy Lee Jones is the Big Bad CIA Head Who’s Hiding Something^TM, Alicia Vikander is the Upstart Computer Hacker Looking to Make a Name for Herself^TM, and Vincent Cassel is the Rugged, Determined Assassin Who’s Hot on the Hero’s Trail^TM.  Everyone goes through the motions without doing anything memorable, which is a disappointment to say the least.

All the cliches and non-entertainment would’ve been okay if the action was competent.  With Greengrass at the helm, it’s all shot, cut, and presented like an ADD nightmare.  The only thing saving it from a One Star rating is the carnage created on the Las Vegas Strip when Cassel is chasing Damon and plows through two dozen cars in a SWAT vehicle before driving that bad boy THROUGH the Riviera casino.  If the camerawork and editing was good (heck, I would’ve settled for mediocre), this could’ve been a top-notch action sequence.  At least the mayhem is enough to keep you from dozing off before the lame climax.  We also get an OK one-joke fight scene, but the punchline was already spoiled in the trailers. 

In short, this one is a Bourne Loser.

CLEANING OUT THE DVR: JALOPY (1953) ** ½

This was the final feature in Turner Classic Movies' ‘50s car movie marathon that originally aired on July 26, 2017.  This was the twenty-ninth entry in the Bowery Boys series.  It’s also notable for being the first film released by Allied Artists, which had previously been known as Monogram Pictures. 

Slip (Leo Gorcey) is competing in a race in his busted old jalopy in hopes the winnings will help old timer Louie (Bernard Gorcey) save his soda shop.  He doesn’t have a prayer of winning until his pal Sach (Huntz Hall) invents a super-duper rocket fuel in the back room of the store.  When a gangster (Robert Lowery from the Batman serial) learns about their formula, he sets out to steal it before the big race.

I’m a fan of the Bowery Boys movies, so this one went down pretty smooth.  It won’t be mistaken for one of the team’s best films, but there are enough laughs here to keep easy-to-please fans happy.  Gorcey gets a couple of clever one-liners and malapropisms and Hall does an OK job doing his patented schtick.  I also liked the running gag where every time the formula explodes, sexy Jane Easton appears out of a puff of smoke, leaving Slip and Sach to believe the stuff produces girls out of thin air. 

The other Bowery Boys basically just stand around a lot as it’s more or less the Slip and Sach show the whole time.  In fact, it’s actually kind of jarring when one of the other guys speaks.  The senior Gorcey gets more to do this time out as the harried ice cream shop owner Louie.  Lowery makes for a convincing foil for the team as well, which helps.

Sure, there are some stretches where the laughs dry up.  We also get a party sequence that goes on far too long.  The ice cream fight scene is pretty lame too.  The biggest surprise is that the racing scenes are actually entertaining and exciting.  There’s a great sequence where Hall loses his hat and runs onto the track to retrieve it, effectively turning the race into an all-out demolition derby.  The finale isn’t quite as good, but it helps to end the movie on a fun note.

CLEANING OUT THE DVR: HOT CARS (1956) ***

I recorded this from Turner Classic Movies on July 26, 2017 as part of a ‘50s car-themed marathon. 

The opening scene is a great little time capsule to show you just how much times have changed.  Our hero, a used car salesman played by John Bromfield (who was also in Curucu, Beast of the Amazon the same year) takes his curvaceous customer (Joi Lansing from Hillbillys in a Haunted House) out for a spin.  Halfway through the drive, they stop off to a beachside bar for drinks! 

Though it’s a crime thriller at heart, Hot Cars should really be labeled a science fiction tale because it’s about something that doesn’t exist in nature:  An honest car salesman!  So honest is Bromfield, that when he discourages a potential customer (Ralph Clanton) from buying a lemon, he’s fired on the spot.  Stuck with a lot of bills and a sick kid, Bromfield is desperate for work.  It seems like fortune is smiling on him when the customer he turned away offers him a job.  Turns out, he’s just looking for an honest face to front his car lot, which is stocked with nothing but stolen vehicles. 

With a running time of only an hour, Hot Cars moves right along.  Donald McDougall directs with an economical, no-frills style that perfectly suits this entertaining B noir.  While the third act isn’t as crackling as the first forty-five minutes or so, it does contain an impressive fight on a rollercoaster finale.  Even though this sequence feels like it came out of an entirely different movie (you’d expect a film called Hot Cars would have at least one car chase in it), it’s nevertheless a fine capper.

McDougall also gets a lot of mileage out of his cast.  Bromfield makes for a perfectly upstanding leading man and Clanton has the right touch of bland menace about him.  Lansing is the real star though.  Looking as drop dead gorgeous as ever, she gets a lot of sultry double talk that is sure to get your motor going.  When Bromfield gives her a sales pitch, she breathlessly coos, “Yes… yes… yes… tell me more… I just love being talked into things!”  Va-va-voom!

Speaking of which, the snappy dialogue has a real rhythm to it and is fun to listen to.  (“What’s the matter with you?  Are you unpatriotic or something?  Don’t you like Washington… Lincoln… Jackson…?”)  The swinging score by Les Baxter adds a little zing to the proceedings as well.  All in all, Hot Cars winds up being a fun ride.  

CLEANING OUT THE DVR: MR. BROOKS (2007) **

Mr. Brooks has been sitting in my DVR since July 24^th, 2017, the day I taped it off The Movie Channel.  Now, I think it’s finally time to let him loose so he can do his thing.  This is one of those movies that when it came out, the previews were kind of “meh”, so I skipped it.  In the ensuing years, I have had several people recommend it to me, often times saying, “It’s totally a Mitch movie”.  Now that I have seen it, I can see why they would’ve thought that, even if I wasn’t exactly over the moon for it.

Christ, all they had to say was, “it’s from the director of Kuffs,” and I would’ve checked it out long ago.

Kevin Costner stars as the titular Mr. Brooks, a straightlaced, kind of nerdy, obscenely wealthy family man and philanthropist.  What Mrs. Brooks (Marg Helgenberger) doesn’t know is that her husband is a serial killer who has an imaginary friend (William Hurt) who goads him into killing.  When a peeping tom (Dane Cook) catches him in the act, he blackmails Mr. Brooks into letting him do a ride-along on his next murder.  Meanwhile, a detective (Demi Moore), obsessed with catching Mr. Brooks, draws closer on his trail.

Costner does a good job with playing both sides of Mr. Brooks’ identity.  I liked how he is restless and uncomfortable in his skin during his “everyday” scenes while becoming increasingly calm and collected as he closes in on his prey.  Hurt steals the movie though as the maniacal imaginary friend who acts like the devil on Costner’s shoulder.  He was still trading in on the weird energy he brought to A History of Violence, and his scenes with Costner are the best in the film.

What doesn’t work?  Basically, all the stuff with Moore.  I like her and all, but she’s sorely miscast as a tough-talking detective.  Plus, she eats up way too much screen time.  I mean, did we even need to see all her divorce proceedings?  Or the scene where she’s attacked by ANOTHER serial killer? 

The same goes for the subplot involving the possibility that Mr. Brooks’ daughter (Danielle Panabaker) is also a serial killer.  While it’s an intriguing idea, it’s just another unnecessary narrative bowling pin the movie has to juggle.  I mean, how many serial killers does a movie need?

Which brings us to Dane Cook, the fledgling serial-killer-in-training.  While I don’t hate him as much as some people do, I can only take him in small doses.  Unfortunately, we’re given an overdose of Cook.  

There is a great movie lurking somewhere underneath all the gratuitous subplots.  The scenes with Costner and Hurt alone are nearly enough to recommend it, especially if you are fans of their work (which I am).  It’s just that the less time we spend inside of Mr. Brooks’ head, the more the flick starts to feel like a by-the-numbers serial killer thriller.

CLEANING OUT THE DVR: LEGEND (2015) **

I taped this off HBO on July 23^rd, 2017.  No, it isn’t a remake of Ridley Scott’s Legend.  It’s actually about the notorious twin British gangsters, the Kray brothers.  Their story was probably most famously told in the 1990 movie The Krays, starring members of Spandau Ballet, Martin and Gary Kemp.  Instead of using real-life brothers to portray the Krays, writer/director Brian (Payback) Helgeland opted to pull a Dead Ringers and give Tom Hardy not one, but two opportunities to chew the scenery. 

Hardy plays both Ronnie and Reggie Kray, the underground gangsters who control London in the ‘60s.  Ronnie is a bespectacled madman who can barely keep his bloodlust at bay.  Reggie is only slightly more controlled and refined, if only because he’s anchored somewhat by his love for his girlfriend Frances (Emily Browning).  As the brothers’ reign of terror (which includes racketeering, extortion, blackmail, and intimidation) grows, so does the divide between Reggie and Frances.

Helgeland is a gifted writer and a fine director, but he seems an odd fit for this film.  Scenes feel assembled without conviction, the plot is episodic, and the pacing lacks an organic flow.  Despite two twitchy hotheaded performances by Hardy, the movie itself feels kind of lifeless.  Even a bloody pub brawl is sorely missing the directorial exuberance to make the violence pop.  You know you’re in trouble when you start yearning for Guy Ritchie to take the helm and give it some bollocks. 

The narration doesn’t really work either.  At first it seems like it’s only there to humanize Reggie.  Eventually, we learn that isn’t the case at all.  So, why even bother?  Because the movie would barely function without SOMEONE narrating to string all these slipshod scenes together.

I guess this would make a serviceable double feature with Bronson, another flick in which Hardy played a notorious English criminal.  There’s even a similar scene where he goes toe to toe with several prison guards.  Too bad it’s not nearly as outrageous as that film was. 

Ultimately, all this is little more than a collection of half-sketched anecdotes, gangster cliches, and bloody set pieces in search of a movie.  Still, if you ever wanted to see Tom Hardy fight himself, Legend will be worth a watch.  Let’s face it, I’ve watched worse for less.  That scene has a bit of a kick to it, but overall, the bulk of the picture is messy, rambling, and too unfocused to be wholly recommended.

CLEANING OUT THE DVR: HOUSE OF WOMEN (1962) ** ½

I taped this loose remake of Caged! off Turner Classic Movies on July 23^rd, 2017.  Shirley Knight stars as a pregnant woman behind bars.  She has the baby, which will be kept inside the prison walls in a daycare center until it turns three.  If she is still incarcerated by then, her daughter will become a ward of the state.  Andrew (Lancer) Duggan is the warden who takes a shine to Shirley and makes her his maid.  She plays up to his affections in hopes she’ll receive parole and get her daughter back.  When the warden realizes he’s being used, he denies her parole and her baby is taken away.  The inmates learn about his misdeeds and as a show of solidarity, stage a riot.

House of Women is more melodramatic than exploitative.  That’s more of an observation than a criticism.  Because of the year in which it was made, it goes without saying that it was going to be tame.  Despite being low on sleaze, there are definitely some memorable moments here.  The highlight has to be Barbara Nichols’ parole meeting that probably inspired Morgan Freeman’s similar scene in The Shawshank Redemption. 

There are also enough genre cliches here to at the very least pacify Women in Prison fans.  We have food fights, riots (the matrons subdue the prisoners using stools, just like lion tamers!), and pervert wardens.  It also has one of the best reasons for a catfight I’ve ever seen in one of these movies.  (“She drew a moustache on my picture of Troy Donahue!”)

Knight is a little milquetoast in the lead, but then again, she has to be because her character is trying to win her daughter back.  Duggan does a decent job as the warden, although he never quite blossoms into an out-and-out scumbag.  Most of the fun comes from seeing Jason Evers (the same year he starred in the classic The Brain That Wouldn’t Die!) as the kindly alcoholic prison doctor. 

While House of Women has some strong stretches, it never really gets into gear.  The finale is particularly weak as the big riot is broken up into several sections using newspaper headlines as interstitials.  It is also in this section when the focus kind of shifts from Knight to Constance Ford, who plays an inmate who flips her lid when her son dies from the guards’ negligence.  Even then, there are enough good bits in that first hour to make the flick recommended to Women in Prison die-hards.