THE OLD GUARD (2020) **

Charlize Theron, sporting short black hair, dark sunglasses, and looking HAWT, leads a team of immortal soldiers who have been fighting together throughout the millennium righting wrongs and killing bad guys.  Chiwetel Ejiofor hires them for their next assignment, a rescue mission in South Sudan, but it’s all a trick to flush them out into the open.  He’s working for some Big Pharma asshole (How do we know he’s a Big Pharma asshole?  Because he says, “Big Pharma” about a dozen times, that’s why.), played by Harry Melling who is looking to create his own super-soldier drug.  He kidnaps two of their team members, and while he’s busy experimenting on them, Charlize is recruiting a new immortal soldier (KiKi Layne) to help rescue them. 

The Old Guard is based on a comic book I never heard of, so this might be the closest thing we get to a Marvel movie this year.  Like most Netflix original films, it’s about twenty or thirty minutes longer than it really needed to be.  While some of the character interactions are appreciated and help give them a real lived-in quality, many of the flashbacks and world-building aspects fall flat.  I can’t help but think that this wouldn’t have crackled with some tighter editing.

I commend director Gina Prince-Blythewood’s attempt to make The Old Guard more of a socially conscious actioner.  The casting is diverse, and two of the male team members are lovers.  Those touches help to at least make it memorable. 

Too bad most of the action bits are generic.  I mean, I don’t know how you could screw up Charlize Theron slicing up dudes with a battle axe, but somehow even these scenes feel like something from a ‘90s Action Pack show.  The only action moment that works is when Theron is giving the new recruit a fighting tutorial in a plane that’s about to crash.  As far as black-haired Charlize Theron actioners go, it’s not a patch on Aeon Flux. 

I like the IDEA of the movie.  I mean, it’s basically Highlander Meets Navy SEALS with touches of Wolverine tossed in there.  (The characters drink a lot and have the ability to push bullets out of their skulls after they’ve been shot in the head.)  It just never really finds its footing.  Despite some of the new school touches, the uninspired action in The Old Guard ultimately makes it feel like an old hat.  

CLEANING OUT THE DVR: STROSZEK (1977) ***

I taped this off Turner Classic Movies on September 7, 2017.  It was part of a Werner Herzog marathon, and this was the only one I hadn’t seen.  It tells the tale of Bruno Stroszek (Bruno S.), who gets out of jail after serving a long stretch for alcohol-fueled infractions.  First thing he does when he gets out is go to the bar, order a beer, and bring a hooker home.  This Stroszek is my kind of dude.  When he finds out the streetwalker, whose name is Eva (Eva Mattes), is still being beaten up by her pimp, he convinces her to go with him and his old fogey roommate (Clemens Scheitz) to Wisconsin to begin life anew. 

Like most Herzog movies, Stroszek has a weird allure to it that most filmmakers just can’t replicate.  From using a mentally challenged leading man to the preemie ward scene, there are moments here that run the gamut from hauntingly beautiful to downright bizarre.  All of this is wildly uneven to be sure, and sometimes the stories behind the making of the film outshine the finished product itself.  (Herzog decided to film in Plainfield, Wisconsin just because it was the birthplace of Ed Gein.)

The film is essentially broken into two halves.  The first is Stroszek getting out of jail and befriending Eva.  The second is their Wisconsin adventure.  Both have their definite ups and downs.  The German-set scenes are sometimes dawdling, but that kind of adds to the offbeat “hang out” kind of vibe.  The Wisconsin scenes are a bit of a mixed bag too as the finale goes on far too long.  (How many shots of dancing chickens does one need?) 

I can’t say Stroszek is a perfect movie.  What I can say is that it’s a strange, unique, and sometimes poignant one.  It is simultaneously a love letter to and a condemnation of the American Dream as we know it.  So, because of that, it’s definitely worth checking out.

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.