LOVE LETTERS OF A PORTUGUESE NUN (1977) ***

Maria (Susan Hemingway) is an innocent teenage girl who gets caught making time with a guy in the woods by the nosy Father Vicente (William Berger).  He takes Maria back to her mother and demands she be sent to a convent for her own good.  First order of business when she gets there:  Mother Superior (Ana Zanatti) has to do a hymen check.  Purely a formality, you understand. 

Later, Father Vicente hears Maria’s confession and beats off while she tells him about her naughty nightmares of getting carnal with her cousin.  Before Maria can even get fitted for her nun’s habit, she’s informed she’s got to wear a crown of thorns over her naughty bits, even if it draws blood.  I love it when they strictly enforce the dress code like that.  Eventually our heroine discovers Mother Superior is a card-carrying Satan worshipper with a penchant for lesbian orgies.  When Maria proves to be more trouble than she’s worth, Mother Superior decides to have her tried as a witch.

Director Jess Franco really took his time on this one.  He slowly draws you in by doling out the exploitation and supernatural elements in a deliberate manner.  That doesn’t necessarily get in the way of the fun.  In fact, it makes it feel a little bit classier than your typical Franco fuck fest.  He even shows, dare I say, RESTRAINT in some scenes. 

Franco delivers some good imagery too.  The dream scenes where a hairy-handed Satan (Herbert Fux) scratches and paws at nubile nun flesh are particularly well done.  He even tosses in some Mark of the Devil-style torture sequences for variety as well.  Sure, none of this is particularly over the top.  I’m sure it probably won’t wow you the way Sadomania or Female Vampire will.  However, Love Letters of a Portuguese Nun still packs in enough sleaze to satisfy fans of Franco and nunsploitation in general.

AKA:  Love Letters from a Portuguese Nun. 

FEMALE JUNGLE (1955) ** ½

A blonde movie star is strangled outside a seedy dive bar.  Lawrence Tierney is a drunk off-duty detective who is found shit-faced at the scene.  Problems arise when witnesses remember seeing him with a blonde who just may have been the victim.  Since he blacked out during the time of the murder, he can’t refute their claims.  It’s then up to Tierney to nose his way into the investigation and find the real killer, or at least keep his name off the suspect list.    

Female Jungle was the first film directed by rotund character actor Bruno (Attack of the Giant Leeches) VeSota.  He has a stark, no-nonsense style that is perfectly suited to film noir.  Although some of the budgetary restrictions are evident (the ADR is terrible), there is plenty of atmosphere to go around. 

Tierney makes for a compelling lead, but it’s the supporting performances that makes it stand out.  The great John Carradine shines as a rich gossip columnist who acted as a mentor to the victim.  Burt Kaiser (who also co-wrote and co-produced) does some fine, sweaty overacting as an alcoholic caricaturist.  Kathleen Crowley is also quite good as Kaiser’s long-suffering wife, and the next potential victim.

The real reason to see it is for Jayne Mansfield.  This was either Mansfield’s first filmed performance or her first film that was released, depending on what you read.   She makes an immediate impression playing (what else?) a sex-crazed seductress.  She’s fun to watch as she juggles men, guzzles booze, and breathlessly recites lines like, “You’re trouble… you always will be!  Now I’ve come along to give you a taste of your own medicine!”

Despite the stylish touches, fun performances, and the sight of a young Mansfield chewing the scenery, the plot really takes a nosedive in the second half.  It’s here when the film becomes populated with too many characters and winds up spinning itself in narrative circles.  The chase finale is anticlimactic, and the final wrap-up runs on way too long.  Still, just for Tierney’s growling and Mansfield’s sultriness, it’s worth watching. 

VeSota’s next film as a director was The Brain Eaters.

AKA:  The Hangover.  

CHARLIE’S ANGELS (2019) ** ½

The world didn’t ask for a stripped-down, three-chords Charlie’s Angels reboot, but we got one anyway.  The results aren’t nearly as bad as they could’ve been, all things considered.  While it’s lacking the effervescence of the original ‘70s TV show and the pop culture bubble gum aesthetic of the previous big-screen iterations, it has its own distinct groove.  It also surprisingly honors the previous versions in ways I won’t spoil, and because of that, it feels less like another cash-grab retread, and more like an honest continuation of what came before. 

The inspiration seems to come from the Christopher McQuarrie-directed Mission:  Impossible movies, with its muted colors, close-quarters fights, and modest, but capable action sequences.  It was not a hit, so who’s to say if we will get another one any time soon.  At any rate, this Charlie’s Angels makes for perfectly acceptable lazy afternoon entertainment. 

A corporate whistleblower named Elena (Naomi Scott) is about to go public with knowledge that her Alexa-esque device can be weaponized and turns to The Townsend Agency for help.  At the rendezvous, Bosley (Djimon Hounsou) is killed by a gunman, and the Angels Sabina (Kristen Stewart) and Jane (Ella Balinska) are left in the wind.  Another Bosley (Elizabeth Banks, who also directed) steps in to help the Angels, but she may or may not be the one behind the set-up. 

There are only two Angels in this one, which is a bit odd.  I know Elena winds up being slowly groomed into the role, but I guess that just goes back to the whole stripped-down approach Banks was going for.  Stewart and Balinska play off each other pretty well as they make an ideal mismatched pair.  Stewart in particular seems to be having a blast.  After so many painfully serious dramatic roles, she looks like she’s relishing the opportunity to let her hair (or at least her wig) down and have some fun.

Banks does an admirable job with the action scenes.  Unlike her male counterparts, she doesn’t rely on a bunch of shaky-cam nonsense during the shootouts, fight scenes, and car chases.  In fact, she probably holds back just a touch too much as things never really kick into overdrive.  (The finale is curiously low on fireworks.)  The film honestly needed at least one big action sequence to put it over the top into *** territory.  I for one was missing the bombastic exuberance of the McG movies.  Still, for Charlie’s Angels fans who absolutely positively have to have more Charlie’s Angels, this should fit the bill.

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.