Communion (1989)

This adaptation of Whitley Strieber’s divisive cult classic is half a good movie, half a fatally miscalculated one. First, the good: Strieber’s real-life account of alien visitors and the subsequent psychological torment left in their wake provides most of the movie’s narrative strengths, in particular its incisive dissection of Strieber’s marriage to his wife Anne. It’s hard to fault Anne for having difficulty accepting her husband’s story given its literal other-wordly basis, which makes the marital trauma they both experience all the more thematically potent and effective. Additionally, Christopher Walken and Lindsay Crouse are both extraordinarily well cast in their respective roles: Walken, in particular, approaches the role with a palpably lived-in, inner rich life for Streiber, and his gradual psychological deterioration is all the more engaging because the audience trusts Walken’s instincts. However, by the time the movie hits the halfway mark, things have taken a turn for the downright ludicrous: Director Philippe Mora has no clue what to do with the actual story at the heart of this movie, so he focuses on a surreal, almost psychedelic approach in the second half that he completely and thoroughly breaks the spell that Walken and Crouse are able to establish in the first half. The rest is jumbled nonsense that undercuts the emotional core of Strieber’s screenplay with ridiculous visuals and ends up damaging the finished product. Admittedly a few scenes near the beginning are strong enough to give a casual viewer the willies, but it’s not enough to rescue the movie from Mora’s incompetence.

Rating: ★★★ (out of 5)

The Sentinel (1977)

It’s hard to watch “The Sentinel” and not be reminded of Roman Polanski’s early work, specifically “Rosemary’s Baby” and “The Tenant.” In a way, that’s a good thing because, since the narrative is reminiscent of some Polanski’s top-shelf work, there’s a built-in oppressive atmosphere and the threat of encroaching-but-unseen forces tormenting our lead character in her gorgeous New York City apartment is lent some credence by Polanski’s earlier explorations of similar themes. However, that’s where most of the comparisons end, because “The Sentinel” director Michael Winner is no Polanski: The suspense is mostly relegated to the tone, while the actual narrative has a tendency to spin its wheels, going over the same points again and again while the audience grows increasingly impatient with the slow pace and the lack of meaningful action. Additionally, the movie is further damaged by two weak leads, Cristina Raines and Chris Sarandon, who are both gorgeous to look at but deliver mood-ruining, borderline-cringry performances: You can see that Raines is trying her best to rise above the rather weak material even though she’s just not very good in it, while Sarandon can’t seem to settle on a singular approach to his character, which results in an inconsistent, uneven and wooden performance. It’s a shame because there are aspects that work here and there (in particular Sylvia Miles and Burgess Meredith in memorable supporting roles that end up doing most of the movie’s dramatic heavy lifting) so it’s not exactly a waste of time, it’s just a bit of a missed opportunity.

Rating: ★★★ (out of 5)

Hairspray (2007)

“Hairspray” is one of those movies that you can watch anytime, and it will always make you smile ear to ear. From the first few shots, you know you’re in for a candy-colored musical extravaganza: The colors are bright, the pace is snappy, and the songs are both airy and toe-tappingly catchy. Additionally, the movie benefits enormously from Nikki Blonsky’s natural charm and screen presence, not to mention her extraordinary pipes (in particular on “Good Morning Baltimore” and “I Can Hear the Bells”), and she brings life to every scene in a way that suggests superstar charisma. The supporting cast is also totally charming, from Zac Efron’s cherubic appeal to Michelle Pfeiffer’s campy vamping to James Marsden’s pitch-perfect Corny Collins (in particular his casually confident rendition of “The Nicest Kids in Town”), there’s always someone to enjoy onscreen, but none as much as John Travolta: Slipping into the role of Blonsky’s mother after beloved cult figure Divine originated the role in the 1988 original movie like nothing could be more fun, Travolta’s accent is painfully bad but it only adds to the overall spectacle of watching the A-lister gleefully throw himself into the role of an overweight middle-aged woman discovering her own self-worth. The original movie’s heavy themes of racial segregation and flagrant white privilege survive (albeit a little diluted by the constraints of the movie’s format), and while there’s a regrettable “white savior” undercurrent to the plot, it’s at least well-intentioned and relatively forward-thinking from a major Hollywood production aimed at teenagers.

Rating: ★★★★ (out of 5)

Batman Returns (1992)

“Batman Returns” is likely the Tim Burton-ieast Tim Burton movie of the auteur’s filmography. From the first frames, it’s the perfect sum of its parts: Every shot is highly stylized, the editing is fluid, the music is both overwhelming and ominous, and the A-list cast is at the top of its game. Michael Keaton is fine as Batman, of course, but it’s all about the extraordinary duo of villains that haunts Gotham this time around. Danny DeVito’s Penguin is a grotesque freakshow come to life and he’s a wonder to behold, while an iconic Michelle Pfeiffer synthesizes the anti-heroine’s previous screen incarnations into a distinctive-yet-honorific slam dunk of a performance, and walks away with the movie in the process. The plot is imaginative and surprisingly grisly from the get-go, and the movie knows how to weave the “creation” of both villains so effectively that their onscreen ascents feel like nothing less than fate. Add in an engaging, impressively cathartic and downright nihilist climax that follows the movie’s many subplots to their natural conclusion, and what you have is one of the boldest and most effective Hollywood blockbusters of its decade.

Rating: ★★★★ (out of 5)

Basquiat (1996)

Julian Schnabel’s biopic of graffiti artist Jean-Michael Basquiat is pure 1990s indie glory: There’s the pre-9/11 New York City of the 1990s (although the film is set in the late 1970s-early 1980s), an all-star cast of indie darlings like Jeffrey Wright and Parker Posey, and a meandering-but-satisfying structure that shows the audience who Basquiat was, in lieu of telling them in a traditional biopic structure. Wright is extraordinary as Basquiat – even though he remains enigmatic and unreachable throughout the narrative, we get the sense that that’s how Basquiat actually was in real life, which is a quietly effective way of developing him as a screen character. Along with a terrific supporting cast (which includes a totally believable David Bowie as Andy Warhol and a fiery Michael Wincott as an art dealer), Schnabel’s movie glides along effortlessly for its duration, on the way to a dreamy, meditative climax that frames Basquiat’s years as an artist in a satisfying, conclusive manner. It’s not the type of movie that will move mainstream audiences but art house regulars are likely to find plenty of inspiration.

Rating: ★★★ (out of 5)

True Romance (1993)

Directed by Tony Scott and written by Quentin Tarantino, “True Romance” couldn’t be more Tarantino-esque if it tried. Christian Slater is on hand at a surrogate of sorts for Tarantino himself, romanticizing pop culture and 1990s bohemia like nothing could be cooler. Patricia Arquette is also extraordinary in her signature role, exuding both naivete and streetwise weariness at once (not unlike Juliette Lewis in “Kalifornia”), and her confrontation scene with James Gandolfini crackles with unsettling intensity. Additionally, there’s a terrific supporting cast, which includes an Oscar-worthy appearance by Christopher Walken and a number of famous performers playing largely against type, and it’s a downright pleasure to watch so many terrific performances in one movie. There are a number of thrilling scenes (including a climactic shootout for the ages) along the way, but this is the type of action movie that works best when concentrating on its compelling characters.

Rating: ★★★★ (out of 5)

The Stepford Wives (2004)

It’s easy to see why the filmmakers for this remake of the 1975 sci-fi/horror hybrid would change the tone towards broad comedy, given how the themes of the original have become a little antiquated while the movie’s secrets have long been pop culture lore. It’s also easy to see why this Franz Oz remake was panned as it was, given that it’s, well, not very funny, has a number of plot holes and story problems, and is cursed with a stiff Nicole Kidman who seems to have wandered in from a different movie altogether. However, the concept itself is fascinating, and Frank Oz’s all-American direction is the perfect touch for the film’s visual look which goes a long way to sell some of the weaker moments. Bette Midler provides a spark of life whenever on screen, and there’s a neat, satisfying little twist at the end. In no way is this a particularly good movie, but fans of famous flops and troubled productions will probably find plenty to enjoy here as I did.

Rating: ★★★ (out of 5)

 

The Prophecy (1995)

There’s a whole lot going on this religiously themed horror effort. Christopher Walken is perfectly cast as the avenging angel Gabriel, although his menace is occasionally dulled by a distracting black wig. The rest of the cast is interesting, from Virginia Madsen to Elias Koteas to Eric Stoltz to Amanda Plummer, and although no one really has a lot to do it still gives the movie a weird sort of legitimacy. Gregory Widen’s direction is effective and theatrical, but the editing is abrupt and the score is distracting, which results in a strange, uneven tone. Ultimately it’s worth a shot but it feels a bit rushed.

Rating: ★★★ (out of 5)

Pennies from Heaven (1981)

There are few movies quite as original as “Pennies from Heaven.” Set during the Great Depression, the movie follows Steve Martin as a failed sheet-music salesman who loses himself in musical fantasies in order to deal with his reality. Things go from dreary to bleak quickly for Martin, and he’s entirely believable every step of the way: There’s a certain familiarity to Martin that he subverts here with an unsettled performance that’s surely his best dramatic work. In addition, the movie is blessed with a number of impressive musical numbers that deliberately contrast the movie’s overall tone, and the effect is so jarring that their impressive technical precision is nearly overshadowed by their structural use. Director Herbert Ross manages to pull off an impressive feat with an endeavor like this, and the finished movie is a downright masterpiece.

Rating: ★★★★★ (out of 5)