Pie Love You

Waitress (2007) directed by Adrienne Shelly

I find myself thinking about pie. People get cake on special occasions, but people live with pie. I guess that’s why we can imagine stories where pie-makers bring people back to life and solve mysteries. It doesn’t take much of a leap of imagination to go from pie to magic. Cake is fine, but pie is divine. Pie is full of possibility.
I’m sure that pie, like baseball, doesn’t guarantee a film’s quality, but I’ll be damned if Waitress isn’t a fine film, and the pie doesn’t hurt the case.
Sometimes a film means enough to you that it becomes a litmus test for a relationship of any kind. You might like a person well enough but if they don’t like Serenity, then they’re out the door. On the other hand, maybe you get kicked out the door because someone else feels the same way about Miss Congeniality 2. Everybody’s got something. A while back I was in a conversation with someone and when I mentioned Waitress as one my recent favorites they wholeheartily agreed and proceeded to mention how awesome Ryan Reynolds is and while I have enjoyed Ryan Reynolds ever since Two Guys a Girl and a Pizza Place, I realized that this person was a huge fan of Waiting and had never seen Waitress. Game over. For the record, Nathan Fillion, who is in Waitress, was also on Two Guys a Girl and a Pizza Place with the aforementioned Ryan Reynolds, who is in Waiting. Do we have that straight now? Waitress is a great film, Waiting is (presumably) a moderately amusing movie made (one would hope) better thanks to the charm of Ryan Reynolds.
So what is it about Waitress that makes it so great? Let’s take a look at the ingredients.
1 part Nathan Fillion doing that Nathan Fillion thing.
(Jenna: You’re doing it again.
Dr. Pomatter: What?
Jenna: I don’t know, that nice guy talky thing.
Exactly.)
He was so good as an OB/GYN in this film that the highly ingenious casting directors who supply cannon fodder for Desperate Housewives put their hands into their unimagination barrel and cast him as…an OB/GYN. (Kudos, though, for casting Nathan Fillion as Dana Delany’s husband. Really. And the Halloween Frankenstein delivering a baby scene? Brilliant.)
Fillion’s delivery here is nothing short of brilliant. He has some of the best reactions ever.
Consider the scene at the bus stop where he describes where he lives. Nobody else could deliver this line like Fillion: “Yeah, it’s nice if you like trees…and who doesn’t like trees?” It’s classic Fillion and that would make even a bad movie fun and here it makes a good film great.
2 parts Adrienne Shelly. Insofar as you can angry about a stranger’s death watching Waitress makes me angry that Adrienne Shelly was murdered just before Waitress was released. Waitress is a sweet wonderful film and if every thing she wrote or directed after that had been a low budget Godzilla film her reputation would have been secure. As it stands, this is her directorial legacy and it is a fine one. There are other “great” directors whose entire body of work cannot match this film.
The second part of Adrienne Shelly is her absolutely hilarious performance as Dawn. Shelly navigates between sweet innocent realism and a more deadpan humorous delivery that make the style of the film hard to pin down.
1 part Eddie Jemison as Ogie. He creates spontaneous poetry that for all its silliness can be really profound. (“Could I hold you a minute and it turns into forever?”) His role could easily have been a real annoying stalker, but in a way you can understand that he and Dawn belong together, that it makes sense for them to get together.
1 part Cheryl Hines. She has some of the best lines and really brings a crusty charm to the diner. Who else could say “Dawn! You’re beautiful! Your skin looks like a normal person’s.” and not have it come off as intentionally mean. And, of course, the continual insistence of her character that her boobs are uneven is a hilarious touch.
1 part Jeremy Sisto as an asshole. Surprise, surprise, Jeremy Sisto is playing an asshole. (Thanks to Law & Order, I finally know what it looks like when Jeremy Sisto is likable. I understand Sisto played Jesus in a movie and I have always imagined that Jesus comes off as a bit of an asshole in that movie. Just an educated guess.) But uniquely in a film like this his character actually has some depth. His somewhat abusive husband character would normally be written as a brute ogre. Instead, here we see his needy core. We even get an explanation from Jenna about how he changed when they got married. Finally, an explanation of why the nice sympathetic girl ended up with an asshole. He was at some point a needy guy (with really good hair, woo-hoo) no doubt with borderline assholish tendencies (of the kind that girls seem to love) who stepped over the border after marriage into a controlling needy abusive asshole. But one who does still have a line. He does take a couple of swipes at Jenna, but he’s no Stanley Kowalski and in the scene in the bed where he’s begging for sex, I’ll admit that the first time through I held my breath for the inevitable rape scene to occur, but it didn’t. Because Earl may be an asshole, but he’s not that much of an asshole. He may call his pregnant wife “Porky” but somewhere in there he does love her, just not as much as he loves himself. This is one of the things that makes this film, despite its broad stylized elements ultimately more realistic than any romantic comedy or romantic tragedy, for that matter.
3 parts Andy Griffith. Why 3 parts? Because he’s just that awesome. Andy Griffith will always be justly famous for other reasons (Mayberry, Matlock, what have you), his role in A Face in the Crowd long ago proved he was a serious actor, but his legacy will be enshrined in his role as Joe. He steals this film from everyone and considering how awesome everyone else is in this film, that’s saying something. But then again, he’s Andy Griffith. You should already expect the level of awesomeness. And the writing doesn’t hurt either. Joe gets some zingers like the monologue about almost marrying a girl named Annette who he knocked up back in 1948. Joe is also the philosophical core of the film. “Pie Lady, listen to me! This life’ll kill you. I’m saying make the right choice. Start fresh. It’s never too late. Start fresh.” And if you don’t well up even a little or feel a tightening in the chest or something when he says “I was just dreaming a little for you, ‘cause all my dreams is gone,” then you are actually a wretched human being. Maybe you’ll start watching this film for some other reason, but Andy Griffith will put the finishing touch on making you glad you did.
1 part Cal (Lew Temple). Cal shouldn’t be an important role. A bad writer wouldn’t have bothered to do anything with it. A different director would have perhaps done something stupid like saying that giving this character even a couple of moments would be too distracting for the mindless drones expected to pony up the dough to see this film. But the fact that he gets to be another well-rounded character, that shows a depth of story-telling that we don’t get to see in the drivel that normally floats to the surface. Jenna asks Cal if he’s happy and he says “Well, if you’re asking me a serious question, I’ll tell you. I’m happy enough. I don’t expect much, give much, I don’t get much. I generally enjoy whatever comes up. That’s my truth, summed up for your feminine judgment. I’m happy enough. Why do you ask?”
That’s one you can spend your whole life chewing on. That’s a powerful thought packed in a cute package. That’s the power of pie.
1 part Keri Russell. Sure, she will always be Felicity to me, but if I needed to know what she was really capable of, this film proved it. Keri Russell is an outstanding actress. There, I’ve said it. We can stop talking about whether her haircut ruined a tv show for us.
2 parts art direction and cinematography. (Jason Baldwin & Matthew Irving respectively.) This is quite simply a visually beautiful film. The colors alone are worth the price of admission. Sure, some of those pies look like they’re made with ingredients that don’t occur in nature, but those colors are so beautiful that it’s like seeing a big box of crayons for the first time. Overwhelming.
And then there’s the pie. So much pie. As the weather here cools off, I intend to embark on the project of making each of the 24 varieties of pie (and maybe some others) that appear in the film. You can follow the process here: http://houstongastros.blogspot.com/
I suppose there might be some reasonable people who don’t like pie and there might be some folks who will like Waiting better than Waitress but as for me, I like pie…I love pie and Waitress is a film I find myself coming back to again and again and thinking about.
You might want to think about it, too. I’ll save a slice of pie for you and we can discuss it later.

Special Features
Commentary with producer Michael Roiff & Keri Russell
For obvious reasons Adrienne Shelly couldn’t do the commentary so the producer and star had to fill in. Here are some things you learn:
Nathan Fillion’s character was named for a contraction of Posada, Mattingly and Jeter, because Adrienne Shelly was a serious Yankees fan.
“Broke is temporary.” “Being poor is having no options.” That’s something for us all to think about.
And for you aspiring filmmakers, chew on this thought: only one scene didn’t make it into the movie.

This is How We Made Waitress Pie
This is a generally enjoyable little featurette that gives you a few more insights (including from Adrienne Shelly) into the philosophy of the film.
“It’s just about people”
“We all deserve our life to be what we want it to be.”
And you get more gems like this--Nathan Fillion: My ingredient was cinnamon.

Written & Directed by Adrienne Shelly: A memorial
Another short about the bittersweet personal nature of this film for those who made it.
It’s hard to think about the film’s ending (which features Adrienne Shelly’s real daughter as Lulu) without thinking about the real life tragedy behind it. It really makes the ending of the film more bittersweet than it might otherwise have been.

Hi! I’m Keri, I’ll be your waitress.
Alternate title: Keri Russell: More than the sum of her hair.

The Pies Have It
A short bit about the pies. Really deserved a whole second disc full length feature.
Adrienne Shelly: I have never met a pie that I didn’t like.
Sisto says he likes cobbler. I’m beginning to like this Sisto.

Fox Movie Channel – In Character segments
These things remind me of the kind of little things you see in airport waiting areas and in between programs in the in-flight entertainment.
So we have In Character with Keri Russell, Cheryl Hines, Nathan Fillion. Pretty much just little promos. Nothing really exciting and there’s no baking there.

A message from Keri Russell about the Adrienne Shelly Foundation
I sincerely hope there is one day another filmmaker as good as Adrienne Shelly, so I wish this foundation well in its support of women filmmakers. For more information see the Adrienne Shelly Foundation website.

Christmas in the Trenches...with George

Joyeux Noël (2005)directed by Christian Carion

Taking a break from flawed vampire films, here’s a film about real death and, more importantly, real life.
Joyeux Noël is a film about the Christmas Truce of 1914, a historical oddity of the First World War that has become the stuff of legend, recounted in many a song and story. As the last few veterans of the War to End All Wars finally pass from this earth, it’s a good time to think about that war and Christian Carion has made a beautiful gem of a film that is filled with humanity—the good kind of humanity, not that faux pap that gets passed off as a “message” or some uplifting movie about a budding sociopath who finds meaning in life by putting his hand in bears’ mouths. This is a film about peace on earth and good will to all mankind. (Things that are worth believing in.) It’s the kind of film that reminds you there’s something good left in people and a reminder that despite the worst inclinations of some religious people, religion has long given us the language to do good in this world. In other words, it’s a true Christmas film.
The credits open with a series of prewar postcards, paintings and pictures from the summer of 1914. The peace and tranquility, the enjoyment of life represented in those pictures, are rendered more poignant because we know what comes at the end of that summer, the ghosts of which continue to haunt us all a century later. One of the last pictures is of some French boys in uniform. Make no mistake here, I’m not saying that they’re young, I mean they are literally children in uniform and it’s a kind of picture that’s always cute until you can look back and think about how many of those boys in uniform never grew up to become men out of uniform.

And we go from charming kids in uniform to a series of poems being read in classrooms by patriotic youth.
If children are our future, then think about what your future is like when you spit out the following:

Child upon these maps do heed
This black stain to be effaced
Omitting it, you would proceed
Yet better it in red to trace
Later whatever may come to pass
Promise there to go you must
To fetch the Children of Alsace
Reaching out their arms to us
May in our fondest France
Hope’s green saplings branch
And in you, dear child, flower
Grow, grow, France awaits its hour.

Well, there’s nothing more patriotic than teaching your kids to long for a land that is occupied by your neighbors, after all. Change the places and the flags and you can tell the story of mankind in that poem.
Meanwhile, here’s what the juth of Germany has to say:

We have one and only enemy
Who digs the grave of Germany
Its heart replete with hatred, gall and envy
We have one and only enemy
The villain raises its murderous hand
Its race, you know, is England

Hmmm. Not as good in translation as the tadpole poem that preceded it, and I like how it completely dismisses France or Russia or any other rival. That certainly says a lot about the real rivalries that led to WWI. Finally, we transition to the Brit kid’s classroom and he’s not singing Pink Floyd:

To rid the map of every trace
of Germany and of the Hun
We must exterminate that race
We must not leave a single one
Heed not their children’s cries
Best slay them now, the women, too
Or else someday again they’ll rise
Which, if they’re dead, they cannot do.

No dark sarcasm in the classroom, indeed. On board for the hatemobile yet? Don’t even try to pretend that it’s just Ann Coulter who would say something like this. Plenty of normal folks have said something like it at some point or another in recent years. Plenty of folks on all sides of every conflict have taken things to this level. And, of course, I suppose if the British had exterminated the Germans in World War I there never would have been a World War II, at least not one with Germany. Of course, the trouble with that kind of logic is that it really does work both ways. Nobody has a monopoly on extermination, just like nobody’s got a monopoly on justice or truth or hate or viciousness or ruthlessness.

Finally we get a sweeping vista of Scotland that leads us to a church where Father Palmer (Gary Lewis) is doing some remodeling work with his young parishioners who are eager to get some excitement that will get them out of their dead end lives. (Well, there’s nothing like dying in Flanders to get you out of living in the middle of nowhere, Scotland.) So, William (Robin Laing) and his little brother (Steven Robertson) and their priest all go to war together just like everybody else in Europe. That’s some piss-poor peer pressure. To be fair, Carion stacks the deck against the idea of adventure by using some really brilliant cinematography to make the hills and mountains look as beautiful as they can ever be. You might understand the desire to get the hell out of Dodge if you filmed it for twenty rainy days in a row and showed the wee village where these kids lived, most likely in a life that only we, in retrospect, can describe as idyllic. Besides, they figured, like we always do, that they’d be home by Christmas.

Meanwhile back in Germany the renowned tenor Nikolaus Sprink (Benno Fürmann) and his Danish wife Anna Sörensen (Diane Kruger) are interrupted by the Kaiser’s declaration of war which is read out to the audience immediately because the punctual Prussians just couldn’t he wait ‘til intermission.

These are grave times for Germany. Our country is under siege. The sword is being forced into our hand. I hope…that with the help of God we will wield the sword in a manner that we can put it back in the scabbard with honor.

Yeah, good luck with that Kaiser Willy. Seriously, though. At least the sentiment expressed in the Kaiser’s statement is civilized, even if the reality is harder to square with the high-minded language. That’s a damned sight better than saying right at the outset that honor is for losers and the only thing that counts is winning no matter what you have to do to get there. But hey, as long as you win no one’s going to care about a few villages in the middle of nowhere with no one in them, right?
So the great Sprink is called up to fight the Kaiser’s war like everybody else. (You know, there’s something democratizing about a war where opera singers and chemists have to be riflemen.)

Finally, we get to see our main French character, a young officer named Audebert (Guillaume Canet) who is about to lead a charge into the German line. It’s the early part of the war, so the fighting is practically out in the open. This is the only combat sequence in the film and it’s mercifully shorter than the war itself and brutal enough to get the point across. The French don’t get far. The Scots on their wing don’t get far either and William, with his dying breath, tells his brother to get the hell out of the war so that their mother will have a son left. (And then his body is left behind in no-man’s land.) Audebert loses a pile of his men and when he finally calls off the attack he has to face his General (Bernard Le Coq) who upbraids him for not pressing the attack. And, of course, to push the poignancy further, the Major General is his dad and his pregnant wife is in German occupied Lens. That’s a lot of issues, and it takes into some territory that in the wrong hands would be cheap melodrama. It is to the credit of Carion that he can make that story work.

Meanwhile, Diane Kruger is busy going over the heads of several generals and getting permission for her husband to get one night away from the trenches to give a command performance duet with her for the Crown Prince (Thomas Schmauser) and a different kind of command performance duet with her as a Christmas bonus. (Fun in a chateau ensues. The disgruntled French owners of the chateau are brilliantly portrayed by Michel Serrault and Suzanne Flon. )

General: You’ll only see him one night. What’s the point of that?
Anna: It’ll be much more than one night. Our minutes are longer than yours.

So, it all starts when the Kaiser decides to bring a little Christmas cheer to the troops in the form of 100,000 Christmas trees for the trenches. (One tree every 5 metres, according to the German officers’ calculations.)
With all those trees on the trenches who could fail to get filled with all kinds of Christmas cheer? If only the Kaiser had filled the trenches with a hundred million gallons of eggnog maybe the war would have ended by New Year’s Day.

In mediocre hands the film that follows would be a sugary sequence of clichés and sentimentalities like some sort of Hallmark Armistice Day Greeting Card Special. Fortunately, Carion is a better director than that and his actors are better than that—much better than that.

To some extent all period films are exercises in some form of nostalgia, but Joyeux Noël is an exercise in nostalgia for several specific things. It represents a nostalgia for a time when it was conceivable for something like the Christmas Truce to occur, nostalgia for a war fought for purely national interests that seemed to become ridiculous once men were locked in a stalemated front in trenches filled with Christmas trees and men who just stopped caring about gaining an inch or two of territory. By the end of the film the world that made the Christmas Truce possible is already on its way out as the reasons for wars become more ideological, and thus more irreconcilable. The Second World War and most of the wars since across the world (outside of some charming rarities like The Falklands War) have included irreconcilable elements of religion, ideology, racism and extermination that don’t allow for the kind of fellowship across the lines that would lead to mass fraternization. Sure, we sometimes remember that our enemies are, in fact, human beings, but more often than not we march into battle with some version of the children’s poetry from the top of this film going through our heads.

It’s also a nostalgia for an enemy like the Kaiser’s Germany, one where you can have a German Jewish officer such as our Horstmayer (Daniel Brühl) with a French wife. Sorry for the spoiler, but it’s the kind of thing that is only remarkable in retrospect with the gulf of Nazi Germany lying between the present and the mythic (more innocent) past. You really don’t know how good you’ve got it until you get something far worse. All the talk about exterminating the “murderous Huns” may have become a self-fulfilling nightmare. Call your enemy murderous sociopaths long enough (without cause) and maybe they’ll become the monsters you invented in your propaganda posters.

For my part, I have to admit a certain nostalgia for the leveling effect of the trenches that were filled with universally mobilized conscripts, including German tenors. And is it nostalgia or just a form of wish-fulfillment when the phrase “I have lice” is followed by Diane Kruger making love with you? Maybe it’s the war and the imminent possibility of death, or maybe it’s true love.

The larger case of wish-fulfillment is how once the soldiers have fraternized they become increasingly reluctant to kill their new friends from the other side. Granted, the soldiers involved do insist that they wouldn’t have extended that courtesy to a different unit (strangers, as it were) but you get the feeling some of them have lost all taste for war and killing.

Of course, it’s easy enough to look through rose-colored gas mask lenses at a simpler time. In hindsight, we look at the terrible result of the 20th century wars of ideology (fascism, communism, post-modernism) and look forward to the 21st centuries wars of religion and then we look back at an innocent time when people only fought for silly things like flags and countries and languages and empires and we have a nostalgia for it, in part, because we think those things are silly now, in retrospect. But then, we should remember that Europe, having worn itself out with its own wars of religion decided to put aside silly things like that in favor of nations and empires and languages and races and they must have laughed about anyone who would kill each other over something as dumb as religion while killing each other over their giant games of capture the pretty flag. See, people were quite willing to kill and die over nations and empires before and after the Christmas Truce and while all the different reasons for war are mostly behavior that is learned (and can thus be unlearned, or abandoned by jaded veterans) it doesn’t make it any less serious in its own time.

That doesn’t make it any easier when we have to watch the fraternizing soldiers meet their reckonings. The Scot officer Gordon (Alex Ferns) is given a serious upbraiding by his uptight commander and his men are ordered to shoot at some poor German bastard running through no-man’s land. (They all refuse except for our young Scot with the dead brother, who finally takes the shot, because his brother’s death has turned him into a cold psychopathic killer.) The tragic irony, of course, is that the German wasn’t a German but the hapless feline-loving coffee addict Ponchel (Dany Boon) the French soldier who just wanted to have coffee on the other side of the lines with his mother one more time like he used to.

The priest Palmer, meanwhile, is given a chilling lesson in religion by his Bishop (the brilliant Ian Richardson) as he indoctrinates the newer (younger) soldiers that are replacing the fraternizers. The following speech is apparently paraphrased from an actual sermon by an English Archbishop.

Christ our Lord said ‘Think not that I come to bring peace on earth. I come not to bring peace, but a sword.’ The Gospel According to Saint Matthew. Well, my brethren, the Sword of the Lord is in your hands. You are the very defenders of civilization itself. The forces of good against the forces of evil; for this war is indeed a crusade! A holy war to save the freedom of the world. In truth, I tell you the Germans do not act like us, neither do they think like us, for they are not like us Children of God. Are those who shell cities populated only by civilians the Children of God? Are those who advance armed hiding behind women and children the Children of God? With God’s help, you must kill the German, good or bad, young or old. Kill every one of them so that it won’t have to be done again. The Lord be with you.

To be fair, it did have to be done again, so maybe the Bishop is right. But I don’t think so. Because, see, when you call for the extermination of a people they tend to close ranks, and even if it doesn’t happen, they remember it. And maybe they prepare. And maybe they get paranoid. And maybe they rally behind someone who promises to exterminate them, before they exterminate us. You really have to mind your language. You can call World War One a lot of things, but a moral crusade against evil it was not. But then, maybe that’s just the retrospective talking again.
So, anyhow, Christianity is a religion of peace, right? That's what I'm seeing in the passage above, right?
Religion of peace? Maybe. Sometimes. When it’s in the hands of the priest in the trenches, sure. But in the hands of Bishop Bloodthirsty?
I wonder why Pope Benedict didn’t quote this little gem at Regensburg? Huh, Benny? You packing peace, or are you packing the sword?


So, about now you’re thinking this is the most depressing Christmas movie since It’s a Wonderful Life, right? Well, it does get better.

Audebert has the climactic showdown with his father with all the angst of a father/son “why don’t you love me, daddy?”/”I always loved you, son” drama. The father is sending the son to Verdun and he and his men will be sworn to secrecy because nobody would believe or understand what the heck happened at Christmas.

Son: The country? What does it know of what we suffer here? Of what we do without complaint? Let me tell you, I felt closer to the Germans than to those who cry “Kill the Krauts!” before their stuffed turkey!
Father: You’re talking nonsense.
Son: No, you’re just not living the same war as me or as those on the other side.
Father: Today I’m fighting a war where the shovel outweighs the rifle, in which people swap addresses with the enemy to meet when it’s all over. Plus the cat we found with the note from the Germans, “Good luck, comrades.” I was ordered to arrest the cat for high treason.

See, it’s got jokes. And the son has found out during all this fraternizing that his wife gave birth and the old general is a grandfather. The old man says “Let’s try and survive this war for him.” Survival. That’s what it’s all about. It’s what gets George Bailey through the rough patches. We do what we can to survive the troubles so that we can (maybe) leave something better for the next generation. See, a hopeful Christmas message.

And if that’s not enough for you, then maybe this is: The Crown Prince tells the German fraternizers that their punishment is to ride a sealed train across Germany to the Eastern front where they can freeze their asses off fighting Russians and to drive his point home he takes a harmonica from one of the soldiers and crushes it. (What a waste.) So, the train (with graffiti on it reading ‘Tannenberg’, for you fans of Grand Illusion) rolls away into the distance, but the Germans start singing the song that the Scots were singing on Christmas. Let them sing.
See, another hopeful Christmas message.

Okay, I can see this is a hard sell for a Christmas movie and a bit too uplifting and peaceful for a war movie. But maybe something about that sermon in no-man’s land got to me. See, what’s so damn funny about peace, love and understanding? Isn’t that what Christmas is all about? And maybe it’s not so bad to be reminded of that every so often. Isn’t that what art was supposed to be about? Maybe you’d rather bury your head in the sand, maybe you’d rather not deal with war or discomfort during Christmas (or any other time of the year). But maybe it’s worth a little discomfort to be reminded of what’s important in life (isn’t it, Mr. Scrooge?) and it doesn’t matter if it’s Christmas or July, a little bit of humanity can make your life better.

Joyeux Noël, y’all.

Commentary with Director Christian Carion
“We don’t have to give a lesson to Islam because in 1914 we did the same thing.”

Sure, his French accent is sometimes thick and sometimes all the peace talk gets a bit preachy, but he does have some good anecdotes.

For instance, of note to cinephiles will be the fact that some of the pictures in the opening montage were by the Lumiere Brothers. (Yes, those Lumieres.)
If you’re planning a vacation to the Scottish highlands go in August and it might look like it did when they filmed there.
Diane Kruger’s singing was done by Natalie Dessay. If you liked it, you should check out Dessay’s other works. She is wonderful.
“I decided to put a woman into the film because I didn’t want to spend three month shooting only men in uniform.” Hey, if Wolfgang Petersen had thought of that Das Boot would have been hilarious.
For sports fans, the Germans beat the Scots 3-2 in the football match in no-man’s land.
The cat story and the General in the latrine story are based on real stories.

Joyeux Noël is part of a small movement to commemorate the Christmas Truce and keep the memory of it alive in some way.

Interview with Christian Carion

It’s an interesting interview but I’ll have to admit it took me a good couple of minutes of listening to it en Français before I realized that I could go back and turn on the subtitles for it.

Worst revelation of this interview: The French shot a cat in 1915 for espionage and treason.
The Bishop’s speech at the end is from 1915 in Westminster Abbey. In the words of Christian Carion: ‘There is nothing that justifies this kind of language from a man of God.’


Trailers

One thing I love about Independent films is that they often come bundled with giant collections of trailers

1. Curse of the Golden Flower (2006)
A great trailer. Chow Yun-Fat and Gong Li in a costume action epic. The trailer itself makes a great short film. Wish I had been able to see this on a big screen.
2. Driving Lessons (2006)
Ron Weasley (Rupert Grint), Mrs. Weasley (Julie Walters) and Laura Linney all together in a coming of age comedy together. How grand.
3. The Italian (2005)
A sad Russian kid trying to find his mother after being put up for adoption. Get the handkerchiefs and a bottle of Stoli ready for this one.
4. Who Killed the Electric Car? (2006)
I can only imagine this will now be followed with a sequel titled Who Killed GM? At least this film looks better than an episode of 60 minutes. (Star studded cast includes Ed Begley, Jr. and it’s narrated by Martin Sheen.)
5. Why We Fight? (2005)
An important documentary by Eugene Jarecki about the idea of American Empire. Looks sure to get some good arguments started. If Noam Chomsky’s not in it, we can take it seriously. (A different kind of star-studded cast.)
6. The Passenger (1975)
Michelangelo Antonioni, Jack Nicholson, Maria Schneider. If only the creepy voiceover guy would stop talking about Last Tango in Paris.
7. The White Countess (2005)
Natasha Richardson, Ralph Fiennes. In China. Directed by James Ivory, written by Kazuo Ishiguro. Lush.
8. The Triplets of Belleville (2003)
How did they make even the trailer seem a little bit creepy? Love the animation and music.
9. Bon Voyage (2003)
An action comedy period piece—in French. Isabelle Adjani, Gerard Depardieu, Virginie Ledoyen, Peter Coyote. Must-see.
10. Look at Me (2004)
Quirky father/daughter relationship comedy…in French, if you can believe it. Looks like it might have some potential.
11. The Devil and Daniel Johnston (2005)
Even the trailer for this film about a musical prodigy with psychological problems is melancholy.
12. The Best of World War II Movies
(Sahara, Bridge on the River Kwai, Hellcats of the Navy, Anzio, The Caine Mutiny, King Rat, The Guns of Navarone, From Here to Eternity, Hope & Glory, Bitter Victory, The Odessa File)
It’s like watching one of those Academy Award montage sequences. Great for a really brief game of spot your favorite movie moments or a good idea for a home film festival.
13. The Pursuit of Happyness (2006)
I guess this is in the general spirit of uplift of this DVD.
14. The Holiday (2006)
Cameron Diaz and Kate Winslet are unlucky in love so they switch houses to get some new scenery and so Cameron Diaz meets Jude Law and Kate Winslet meets Jack Black. Yeah, that seems fair.

All-Nude British Lesbian Vampire Revue!

Vampyres (1974) directed by José Ramon Larraz

Okay, maybe this is the Last Year at Marienbad of vampire movies. Vampyres is the exploitation film I thought Daughters of Darkness would turn out to be. In fact, "Daughters of Darkness" is one of the alternate titles for this movie. Vampyres earns its exploitation stripes early as it manages to hit the sex and violence double whammy in the very first scene.
Two very nude women (Marianne Morris and Anulka Dziubinska) are having their ways with each other when someone opens the door and inexplicably shoots both of them leaving us with the sight of their bloody bodies on the bed.
Roll opening credits!
The scene is so devoid of context that it is the essence of exploitation. The camera itself follows a voyeuristic path from the outside of the castle where all we see is a light in a window to the doorway until we finally are freed of the killer’s perspective in order to get a better view of the proceedings. The women have no names. They have no characters. They are simply two bodies. The violence that is done to them is completely senseless because we have no clue about motivations and we don’t even know the gender much less the identity of the killer. All we have is a quick transition from exploitation lesbian sex fantasy to exploitation bloody violence nightmare. And I wouldn’t waste this much time pondering this film at all if there wasn’t some pretense of meaning involved in what follows because Vampyres is as much a ghost story as it is a vampire story and just as the two dead women are soon seen again drinking blood we are also led to believe that Ted (Murray Brown) is their killer or the reincarnation of their killer or something like that. It’s all so very Last Year at Marienbad—except for the whole blood-drinking vampiric thing, of course.
So, were these women vampires all along? Or did they become vampires when they were killed thus becoming ghost vampires? Is Ted the killer or is he the reincarnation of their killer? Is Fran in love with Ted? Is that why she won’t kill him? Is this a reflection of their relationship in the past life? Does that love triangle jealousy explain the motivation for the seemingly senseless killing in the first scene?
Does any of that matter? It’s easy enough to dismiss this film as an excuse for sex and violence—it has both in droves, usually in the same scene—but there’s also the kernel of a good story and several great moments in cinematography.
There’s one image in particular of Fran (Marianne Morris) and Miriam (Anulka) in the woods that resonates with haunting beauty. Is that moment redeeming enough to save this film? I’m not sure, because I’m uncomfortable with the unironic way that Larraz implicates us in the voyeurism. He saturates the film with it in a way that would make Harry “Daughters of Darkness” Kümel blush.
On the other hand, by choking us with so much sex and violence maybe he does us the favor of so overdoing it that it can no longer be fetishized as it would be if it was rationed out the way a typical Hollywood blockbuster would. Vampyres becomes like the all you can eat buffet of sex and violence and like a buffet it encourages you to gorge yourself until you get your money’s worth but leaves you feeling like you never want to see another naked lesbian vampire again. (Okay, technically they’re naked bi-sexual vampyres/ghosts.) Still, that’s a lot of naked lesbian (okay, bisexual) vampire action to get through and calling it intentional oversaturation would be disingenuous.
Larraz’s film is more interesting than some other films of the period. (I’m looking at you, Easy Rider.) It’s definitely more stylish and less deathly dull than some other ‘70s films (I’m looking at you, Serpico.) and it’s a step above true crapsploitation flicks and maybe all its excess sets it apart (sometimes in a good way) from other vampire films. And I suppose in the age of Eli Roth it’s difficult to go on about the misogynistic overtones of Vampyres. In fact, where is the misogyny located in this film? There is certainly a bit of it in terms of a cautionary tale about giving pretty women rides home and then going into their home and drinking their wine and attempting to have sex with them. That will definitely get you killed. The brutality with which Fran and Miriam dispatch their last victim, Harriet (Sally Faulkner) evens the odds slightly in terms of gender specific cautionary stories, but on the other hand the brutality of the way they take out Harriet is yet another way in which the real misogyny and exploitation is the one that we, as audience, are complicit in. It is particularly vicious the way they strip her and go into full bloodlust mode (though two of the earlier killings of men are also marked by the same kind of feeding frenzy) something about this one just seems calculated to take away all hope of survival since the young couple in the camper seemed like the normative characters who would survive the horror. So, while killing them both off is surprising in a good way, the way Fran and Miriam are singularly vicious toward Harriet (and then quietly head off to their cemetery having finished their night’s work) is just a little bit more inexplicable than even the rest of the film.
So, Vampyres manages to elicit all these conflicted thoughts. It has some style and a decent story, but the exploitation elements are harder to ignore than they were in Daughters of Darkness. The vampyres in question are damn alluring (even though their voices are dubbed by other actors) and the story is opaque, but that may be one of the things to like about it. Is it as fun as a film with a real sense of humor? No. Is it more exciting than Daughters of Darkness? Yes. It’s hard to imagine these vampires knitting in a Belgian hotel lobby. Is it a classic of cinema? No, but it is a classic of the vampire genre and even its problematic elements are worth a conversation.
And of course, the ridiculous 1974 haircuts of the men are worth a chuckle.
The wine snob victim (it is so gratifying to see an oenophile drained by vampires) is played by Michael Byrne who has gone on to have a long career of playing Nazis in such classics as The Eagle Has Landed (technically not a Nazi in this one, but a German soldier), Force 10 from Navarone (definitely a Nazi) and most notably in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade where he was the chief Nazi Col. Vogel. (He’s like the Udo Kier of World War II movies.)
Murray Brown is like a very poor man’s Richard Burton and you can understand why he would be drawn to Fran and why he might have been jealous in his past life. And the implication of something cyclical going on is fascinating if not fully explored. (But then, things like that tend to be less fascinating when fully explored, don’t they?)
And I love the fact that the vampires oversleep and have to rush back to the cemetery before the daylight and the distance from their churchyard crypt does…whatever it might do to them. It’s nice to know that vampires don’t necessarily have a good internal clock to keep them from oversleeping after getting hit with the tryptophan-laced blood on Vampire Thanksgiving.
The underground crypt is like a mixture of an opium den, a Roman bath and Victor Hugo’s romantic Paris sewers.
And as a bonus for true cinephiles and antiquarians there’s a cameo at the very end by Bessie Love, one of the all-time great actresses of the silent and early talkie era and that alone is worth the price of admission here.

Special Features

Poster & Still Gallery
With posters that say things like “The ultimate lust!” and “Their lips are moist and very, very red!” how could you go wrong? Another poster proclaims “They shared the pleasures of the flesh and the horrors of the grave!” Jeez.
Alternate titles for the film include Daughters of Dracula (what does any of this have to do with Dracula?) and my favorite, Ossesione Carnale (which is probably closer to the meaning of the film).

Anulka Glamour Gallery
Anulka was a Playboy Playmate (May 1973). So, yeah, she looks pretty in a swimsuit.

Jose Ramon Larraz Bio
More of an autobio.
“In the early ‘50s Spain was a very limiting place. There were censors everywhere and they were especially hard on comic books.”
I guess Dr. Wertham made his way to Madrid to warn people of the 10 Peseta Menace.
“There could be no nudity. A girl in a bikini was a sin, and I liked girls in bikinis. So I left when I was 22 years old.”
Unfortunately, he moved to Mongolia, where there were still no girls in bikinis.
“He told me that if I could make a film like Symptoms but with more naked girls and blood he would produce it.”
Well, I guess anything other than girls or blood was unintentional.
“I imagine my vampires turn almost to cannibalism, to take the blood from anywhere, no matter if it’s on the arm or on the balls. There is an urgency for the kill. And this is why my film is so brutal.”
How urgent can your need for blood be if you have to go straight for the balls?
“I wanted to make a film about the Black Mass exactly the way it is. The rest was too intense because of one scene where a girl is having sex with a goat. The shock when I showed this is terrible! I thought, so what? It’s a nice animal, the goat; a goat has a right to enjoy itself too!”
Seriously, Jose Ramon Larraz? This is the problem with sexual repression—it gives people way too much time to come up with creative fantasies and fetishes and things that involve goats. (The film in question is Black Candles aka Los Ritos Sexual del Diablo.)
“I have friends who ask me, ‘what is with you?’ Sometimes you make good films, sometime you make other things ‘don’t you care?’ And I have no answer.”
You have friends? I have no answer.

“Lost” Caravan Scene
This is an outdoor scene that was cut and is “reconstructed” as a storyboard using still photos. The scene in question doesn’t seem to be much of a loss to cinema. Keep moving. Nothing to see here.

Trailers
International Trailer – Not much of interest.
US Trailer – Some seriously lurid language “Passion is the prelude to a scarlet horror”
along with some seriously lurid footage.

Commentary with Jose Ramon Larraz and Brian Smedley-Aston
Director and Producer reminisce. This is the gem of DVD. If the Larraz bio wasn’t enough to give you a clue to his antics then this will. He has the same crusty old Spanish accent of Jess Franco (though I believe Larraz is a Catalan) and the same inclination towards salty language but by comparison Franco comes off in his interviews as less of a dirty old man than Larraz. If you skip the movie, don’t skip the commentary and here’s why:
“Photographically or photogenically I have always a preference for that one that suck the tit to the other. It was Anulka.”
I think these are the first words we hear on the commentary. Smedley plays an excellent straight man, but Larraz has all the great lines. And for the record, photographically and photogenically I kind of prefer Marianne Morris.
“Doesn’t matter. If one day I need to be sucked by a vampire I would prefer to be sucked by a blonde vampire than would a brunette vampire.”
I can’t think of any reason I would need to be sucked by a vampire, unless, of course...

An interesting note is that the film was actually shot in sequence. I’m sure it really shows in the quality of characterization and the continuity of the nudity and blood spattering.
The credits sequence with the fake bat is taken from an early Hammer Productions clip.
Also, Hammer fans may recognize Oakley Court while Rocky Horror fans will certainly recognize it as the home of Frank N Furter. The cemetery, meanwhile is in Denham churchyard.
Larraz comments on the fact that actress Sally Faulkner was concerned about nudity since she’d just had a baby with the following incomprehensible fragment of a statement: “Something about her tits, the milk, whatever…”
Apparently Larraz had a girlfriend named Carmen who slept with her eyes open (“Bloody sinister Carmen”) which gave him the idea for Fran sleeping with her eyes open. Despite her sinister sleeping, Larraz remember Carmen fondly “She don’t suck me exactly blood.”
He complains about how one of the actresses walked stompingly: “She walked like Fraulein in Uniform.”
He says that the women knew what kind of film they were signing on to and what kind of “talents” were required: “Not for talk about Socrates and Plato”
Though, to be quite honest, I wouldn’t have minded seeing them talk about Socrates and Plato.
“After half an hour my ass is becoming concrete.”
I don’t even remember what context prompted that from Larraz. Oddly enough, after an hour or so most people’s asses become abstract.
Larraz slags off on Angela Pleasance constantly saying how much he didn’t like working with her on Symptoms.
And finally, the best film commentary spontaneous outburst I have ever heard. I can’t do this justice in written form because you miss the thick Spanish accent but here it is:
“Jesus Christ, I see the pussy of Anulka!”
Good night, folks.

Return of the Vampyres
This is a brief pair of talks with Anulka Dziubinska and Marianne Morris, proving that their own voices would have been as good as the dubbing voices that were used in their places. (Though, I can’t argue with the deep almost husky voice they used for Marianne. Her own voice is different, but both are good.)
Marianne does interior design now and has long since retired from film.
Anulka went on to do commercials, modeling and more acting. They’re both still very attractive women.
Apparently “Jose was very volatile” and Marianne or Anulka's agent (I forget which) had kept her from doing The Story of O because he thought it would be too damaging to her career but was okay with the naked lesbian vampire movie.
The shower scene was on a cold day (hmm) and the blood was peppermint flavored (mmm, zesty mint vampyres).
I suppose one of the great things about this short is that it focuses on the women and allows them their own voice (literally as well as figuratively) and by showing them to be undamaged by the exploitation of the film as their general sense of comfort and happiness seems to indicate almost (almost, mind you) acts as a counterweight to the discomfort caused by the exploitation itself.

Underworld: Rise of the Vampire Knitting Society

Daughters of Darkness (1971) dir. Harry Kümel

Do you ever wonder why vampires have been so energetic lately? For creatures who spend most of their time sleeping in coffins and whose diet consists entirely of blood they’re just so damned spry and superhuman. With all that super-strength and those super-senses it’s no wonder people think vampires are sexy.

Well, if you’re tired of Olympic athlete vampires who jump over tall buildings and smash walls with their fists while performing gymnastic stunts then the pale languid cribbage-playing vampires of Daughters of Darkness are your new friends.

Daughters of Darkness is like the Last Year at Marienbad of vampire movies. That might or might not be a compliment, I’m not sure. Suffice it to say that at one point we find the Countess Erzabet (or Elizabeth) Bathory (Delphine Seyrig) sitting in the lobby of an empty hotel in Ostend knitting. Are you ready to become a member of the undead yet? You too can knit a sweater in Belgium during the off-season!

Any comparisons with Last Year at Marienbad are especially apt given that Delphine Seyrig is in that film as well. Go ahead, make some comparisons. They'll be apt...and so will you.

Daughters of Darkness is loosely based on the character of the notorious “Blood Countess” Elizabeth Bathory who allegedly bathed in the blood of virgins for one of those traditional reasons given for depraved acts like that. The Bathory name and legend are in fact more of a background that lends some Eastern European depth to the story, or lack thereof and it’s notable that the character of Stefan (John Karlen) may be a reference to Stefan Bathory, another notorious historical Bathory.

The mysterious background of our male lead, Stefan, is another element that makes this film more interesting than I thought it would be. Frustrating, but interesting. He is apparently sure that “Mother” will not approve of his newly minted marriage to Valerie (Daniele Ouimet). Valerie insists on making Stefan call “Mother” to let her know that he’s got a surprise daughter-in-law who’s dying to meet her and to check out the ancestral manse. Here’s the spoiler: Stefan calls “Mother” and “Mother” turns out to be a creepy older lisping gay man (Fons Rademakers) who is reclining in his tropical solarium). That’s all we get on that front. We are led to imagine that Stefan and Mother will end up offing poor Valerie or something terrible like that but we don’t know and never find out. How mysterious!

Stefan is played by John Karlen, who you might remember from Dark Shadows if you’re the kind of person who remembers Dark Shadows. I didn’t really recognize him until I heard him on the commentary track and realized he was the guy who played Tyne Daly’s husband on Cagney and Lacey. Stefan is a misogynist and a bit of a sadist, or the other way around. Of course, given his undefined relationship with “Mother” it’s no wonder he has some screwed up relations with the opposite sex and for that matter with sex. By the time he meets his accidental end I was rooting for Valerie to be free of him.

Speaking of accidental ends, most of the key deaths are accidental. Stefan meets his end by slipping and slashing his wrists on some broken glass, prompting a hurried finishing of the job as Valerie and the Countess drain him of his remaining blood. The Countess herself dies at the end in a car crash with Valerie that sends the fated Bathory flying through the windshield and incidentally impaled on a stake by the side of the road. And then there’s Ilona (Andrea Rau), the world’s most boring (but mostly naked) vampiric minion. She’s not as pale as the Countess Bathory (in fact, I think she may have had tan lines) but she certainly has the same bored languid attitude. Early on she says “I wish I could die” and after a few more scenes of her I wished she would get her wish. Seeing her vomit blood while hunched over the Countess’s toilet naked did not improve my opinion of poor Ilona. But when it comes to spectacularly improbably deaths, she takes the cake. It all starts when Stefan tries to get her to join him in the shower after they’ve spent a chunk of time in bed doing things that one might do when one is either a sadist or a bored vampire minion. (Not knitting, I have to say.)
The key piece of vampire lore here is that vampires are apparently afraid of running water, so Ilona really doesn’t want to get in the shower. (This lack of showering might explain Ilona’s death wish. I wouldn’t want to smell the resulting combination of centuries of drinking blood and not bathing.) Anyhow, Stefan, being a sadist (and a bit of a misogynist, or the other way around) decides it would be fun to drag the screaming Ilona forcibly into the shower. The improbable result of this act of dubious moral conduct is that Ilona tries to get away, grabs a straight razor, slips and falls (on her back, mind you) onto the straight razor which kills her immediately (presumably by severing her spinal cord given the placement of the razor) and yet without showing a drop of blood. The resulting full frontal nudity is of the distinctly weird and un-sexy variety (I was so puzzled by the bizarre mechanics of the death that I was still wondering what the heck just happened) and is fortunately cut short by the timely appearance of Valerie and the Countess to catch Stefan in flagrante bizarro. Boy, nothing ruins a honeymoon more than when your new bride comes back to the hotel room with an older woman and catches you with a naked dead girl in the bathroom.

I should backtrack a second here and mention that the whole reason Ilona got some alone time with Stefan was because he had spent the night before whipping Valerie with his belt so that she decided to leave him and this prompted the Countess to go to the train station and try to get her to stay (not so much with Stefan, but with her). Catching Stefan in the bathroom with the dead naked Ilona was the nail in the vampiric coffin of his doomed relationship with Valerie and drives her into the awaiting (and unsurprised) arms of the Countess Bathory.

Disposing of Ilona’s body is a farcical venture, as the 3 newly minted amigos drive to the beach and bury her in a shallow sand dune grave. This farce is repeated at the end when Valerie and the Countess dispose of Stefan in the same way. Another recurring motif is the Countess Bathory’s sentimental attachment to young couples in love. That’s what drives her interest in Stefan and Valerie and the motif is repeated in the end when Valerie and a new young couple leave a café together to do…well, we have no idea what Valerie will do with them, because it might be better left to the imagination than turned into another languid vampire movie. But I have to say that there’s something really great about the empowerment of Valerie’s character at the end of the film. Granted, she is empowered into becoming a vampire, but it’s so much better than being strung along in an abusive relationship with Stefan (and perhaps also “Mother”) that seeing her at the end free of that relationship and not beholden to the Countess (whose death seems almost like a sacrifice for Valerie’s liberty) that it makes the whole thing almost redeeming.

So, why bother with Daughters of Darkness?
1. There’s the design/directing attention to detail. For instance, the color red shows up all around the Countess in subtle ways. It took me a second viewing to notice that her car was red all along, because the color wasn’t visible in the dark scenes until almost the end of the film. That was actually clever.
2. Then there are the two amusing supporting Belgians: the Hotel clerk (Paul Esser) and the retired police detective (Georges Jamin). The Hotel clerk is an older man who remembers seeing the Countess in the same hotel when he was a boy (and she looks the same age!) and the Belgian detective who remembers a series of killings in Ostend from the same time and who sees the pattern repeated in Bruges and Ostend now that the Countess is back and who is then dispatched (presumably killed) when the Countess hits his bicycle with her car on the way back from burying Ilona. (Not quite accidental death, but close.) The two Belgian men have delightfully expressive faces and they’re worth seeing.
3. Then there’s Delphine Seyrig who is just perfect as the washed out vampire version of a faded movie star. Her voice is delicate and reassuring and she plays the boredom of undead immortality perfectly whether she’s knitting or pretending to drink a blue grasshopper in the lobby. Ms. Seyrig was a superb actor and if you’re going to see her in a languid European movie then you should skip Last Year at Marienbad and see her in Daughters of Darkness. Her sentimentality is strange but believable and the whole déjà vu effect of the film hangs on her performance. You can really see why the old hotel clerk would remember her for all those years. She can have that kind of mesmerizing effect.
4. Oh, come on, you know you want to see what “Mother” looks like.
5. Ostend and Bruges (where Valerie and Stefan take a daytrip) are very visually appealing and the empty hotel and city make a very opulent ghost town.
6. You learn the important lesson that while it may sound awesome to have an entire hotel in Belgium to yourselves on your honeymoon, it’s actually quite dull and increases your odds of running into bored vampires who will get you involved in their shenanigans.
7. And there’s the corollary lesson that you should always ask to see the family pictures before you marry someone, lest “Mother” turn out to be some aging queen or a vampire or both.

In the end, Daughters of Darkness is more thoughtful than the Eurotrash erotic horror sleazefest that it seems like it would be at first sight, though it certainly includes many exploitable elements of the erotic vampire oeuvre. But if you’re worn out watching supervampires leaping all over the place chasing werewolves and shooting each other with ultraviolet light-bullets, then bored European vampires might be a decent change of pace.

Special Feature:
Commentary with David Del Valle & John Karlen

The commentary track is worth a listen if you’re so bored to death by the long silences of the film on its own. David Del Valle (a film historian and specialist in horror films) is there to provide and prompt the traditional commentary factoids. (e.g. The Astoria Hotel was apparently Gestapo headquarters during WW II—a claim that every grand hotel in Europe seems to make.) And he makes a great straight man for John Karlen’s more…colorful…commentary which makes watching the film a much more lively experience.
Among the things we learn is that Delphine Seyrig was paid in cash because she didn’t trust the independent production, Daniele Ouimet apparently had some junk in her trunk, the actor who plays the detective was quite a gourmet and that John Karlen is a dirty old man.

Here are some choice examples of Karlen’s turns of phrase:
“I always wanted to be on the Orient Express with a big Belgian woman.”
And now, for the low price of 750 euros John Karlen’s dream can become your reality.
“She [Delphine Seyrig] was mostly concerned about being paid in cash.”
Now that’s an acting method that I can get on board with.
“Everything is perverse. We’re all perverse.”
Now bring me a melon and an ear of corn and we can make this a real honeymoon.
“Beautiful Bruges which smelled badly…”
Apparently Belgium in the summer during the late ‘60s and early ‘70s smelled like tuna and ass, heavy on the ass.
“As in all European hotels the beds stink.”
Apparently the Gestapo was also afraid of running water and Europeans think it’s unlucky to get new mattresses.
“It had to be maidens’ blood because hookers’ blood wouldn’t do.”
I have nothing to add to this statement.
And this description of “Mother”: “Overweight sissified Bela Lugosi with a Castilian lisp.”
Sounds like sitcom gold to me. Somebody call Ray Romano quick.

William Shakespeare’s Bram Stoker’s The Mummy (also singing Al Stewart’s “The Year of the Cat”)

Bram Stoker’s The Mummy (1997) directed by Jeffrey Obrow

Speaking of Bram Stoker, here’s another film based on one of his books, in this case The Jewel of Seven Stars. Unlike Dracula, no one gives a rat’s ass whether or not this book is faithfully adapted or that it’s even been adapted at all. I mean, how many people came out of Francis Ford Coppola’s Bram Stoker’s Bingo Dingleberry’s Dracula and said, “You know, I hope someone adapts another Bram Stoker book four years from now because I am SO there!”

And you know you’re in for a treat when the packaging has to include a disclaimer such as, “Not affiliated with Universal Pictures.” Really? Did the folks at Universal really sit there and think that someone would be so mentally deficient that they would mistake this movie for the one with Brendan Fraser? How gorram insecure are the folks at Universal? If I’m going to read a warning label for a film I want it to be something like, THIS MOVIE MAY CAUSE INTENSE DIARRHEA AND KIDNEY DAMAGE. Now that’s an impressive disclaimer. Not affiliated with Universal Pictures? Why not sue people until that actually has to be the title of the movie instead of Bram Stoker’s The Mummy?

So, does anyone care if this film even vaguely follows the novel? It does…vaguely. But you don’t really care, do you? Do you?

Our story begins in 1947 in Egypt in The Valley of the Sorcerer (the lamest fake place name in fake Egyptology history) where some people are blackened to a crisp when they touch this mysterious jewel that looks like a hardened chunk of strawberry-banana jell-o.
Then we jump over to the “present day” in Marin County, California to an Egyptian themed study in a faux English manor house where Abel Trelawny is working on reading some hieroglyphs and then something bad happens to him offscreen.

The transportation of the manor house from England to California leads to the high humor value of seeing some of the worst faux British accents ever captured on the screen. I call them “faux British” because I have a theory about this: When Abel Trelawny moved out to California he couldn’t find many actual British people to work at his manor so he forced his people to speak in whatever British accents they could come up with.
That’s the only reason I can think of for saddling actors with doing accents and saddling an audience with having to sit through them. I don’t know why Abel Trelawny would attempt to recreate an English manor on the West Coast and it’s the sort of mind-boggling conundrum that makes for the better part of entertainment from this kind of film.

Meanwhile we meet our young hero Robert Wyatt (Eric Lutes of Caroline in the City) and his sidekick Brice Renard (Richard Karn, from Home Improvement). I have to say that of all the casting coups in this film this pairing is the best. Eric Lutes is just smarmy enough to sell the idea that he’s pretending to be an expert in Egyptian art and archaeology in order to impress a girl and Richard Karn alone is the highlight of the film. (I got an especial kick out of the pointlessness of the scene where Lutes calls up Karn in the middle of the night forcing Karn to talk about the faux Egyptian god Anuba while his topless companion decides to get up and leave thus earning an R rating in a completely dispensable way.) The relationship between Karn and Lutes is the most interesting one in the whole film. I mean this in the best way, but these two should get together and make more crappy movies together.

I should also take the time to mention that this crappy movie also features the talents of Louis Gossett Jr. That’s right, Academy Award Winning Actor Louis Gossett Jr. graces this crappy mummy movie with his intense presence as Corbeck the man obsessed with bringing Queen Tera back to life. (Apparently Queen Tera had seven fingers on one hand.)

Queen Tera? Why not bring back Queen Shannon and Queen Tiffany also?

Victoria Tennant makes a cameo appearance as Corbeck’s blind girlfriend. Why is she blind? Just so she can smell Corbeck’s presence on a business card. Why does Corbeck check himself into what looks like a jail cell at an insane asylum that he can leave anytime he wants? I have no clue.

I have a special enjoyment of the scene in the Trelawny study where the head of security sets us up for a drawing room mystery with all the suspects in the room. That’s where we meet the housekeeper Mrs. Grant (the omnipresent character actress Mary Jo Catlett) and her assistant Lily (Laura Otis) who remind me of how much fun it is to watch a community theatre production of an Agatha Christie play. Catlett is so over the top that I expected her to break into song at any moment. Laura Otis has a British accent so atrocious that it’s actually the basis for my earlier theory. On the other hand, we do get a decent gander at her gams which explains why anyone would hire her to speak with a bad British accent either in real life or for a mummy movie. And she has the most unexpectedly funny line in the whole film. When she goes down into the basement to get a heater she sees a bunch of sand on the ground and inexplicably escapes death at the hands of the awakened mummy (who is presumably too lazy to kill her): “Sand? I’m not cleaning that mess up.” I have never heard a more useless line from a maid in a movie.
I only wish it was a motif that she repeated throughout: “Blood? I’m not cleaning that mess up.” “Global economic collapse? I’m not cleaning that mess up.”

My first thought on seeing Amy Locane’s performance as Margaret Trelawny was that she looked wooden and glazed, but given the fact that it turns out that she is either being possessed by Queen Tera or is actually a reincarnation of Queen Tera herself or something like that it actually seems in retrospect to be foreshadowing of the twist instead of just bad acting. Frankly it was hard for me to believe that even a Melrose Place alum could act that way unless she was told to.

As with all mummy movies, the flashback sequences to Ancient Egypt leave you wanting more. I don’t care if some screenwriting workshop clown says that flashback digressions are irrelevant to the story—they’re audience gold and I want to see more of them.

On the other hand, what’s the point of including an occasional gruesome death scene only to reveal that it was a bad dream?

I’m sure that you’re all ready to run out and try to get a copy of this movie, so let me spare you the trouble by giving away the twist. Corbeck is killed by Queen Tera when he gets too uppity for her but Wyatt manages to stop Queen Tera. Everyone who doesn’t die lives happily ever after and you’d think the movie was over but you know things are going to take a turn when there’s an actual romantic honeymoon scene and when Wyatt gets up to have a bit of champagne he reveals a seven fingered deep bloody scratch on his back. Then Margaret says that Paris is the second most romantic place after Cairo. Oooh, creepy. But why would an ancient Egyptian queen think anything about Cairo, which wasn’t even founded until the 7th century A.D.?

So, what are the important lessons here?
1. Don’t bring back a mummy from the dead—and if you do don’t get all superior with them about it.
2. If you think your new partner may be a reincarnation of an ancient Egyptian queen it’s best to have a safe word. My safe word is “apples.”
3. Don’t take advice from someone who is willingly living in a jail cell with no lock.
4. Blind people can smell your business cards to know if they actually belong to you.
5. Ancient Egyptian priests could have saved themselves and the rest of us a heap of trouble by burning any seven fingered Queens as witches.
6. If you have enough money you can staff your house with people who will pretend to be British, but you’d better have enough money to train them if you don’t want them to sound ridiculous.
7. If you hire a maid because she’s pretty, you can be sure she won’t clean up any sand that spills in your basement.

All in all, you’d have to be a real fan of mummy movies to give this one a try, or a hardcore Bram Stoker follower. While the cast of known actors gives this film a leg up if you’re looking to do a game of “where have I seen you before?” you’d be better off popping in the previously mentioned Lorenzo Lamas oddity if you need to see a moderately bad film.

Before Moonrise

An American Werewolf in Paris (1997) directed by Anthony Waller

“She’s not interested in douchebags like us. European babes are charming and sophisticated. Especially the French.”

Tom Everett Scott is a lucky lucky man. You can consider 1996-1997 to be the highlight of his career: a popular bubblegum movie about a faux bubblegum pop song (That Thing You Do!) and then he got to hold Julie Delpy’s breasts while she says “This will relax you, no?” (Relax may not be the word for it. I would say, maybe, soothe.) James Dean’s career looks like a failure by comparison. (Holding Sal Mineo’s man-boobs in Rebel Without a Cause just doesn’t make the grade.)

Now that I’ve mentioned the reason I loved this movie in 1997, we can move on to some other things of interest in this movie. I was never a big fan of An American Werewolf in London, so even the tentative (and underplayed) relationship between the earlier film and the new one didn’t really resonate with me. Maybe it’s time I took another look at the original. The thing I wasn’t expecting on watching An American Werewolf in Paris again was how much it screamed “Mid-1990s” to me.

The Americans in question (Andy, Brad and Chris) are backpacking through Europe with their Eurail pass and engaged in a running contest to see who gets the most points for doing x-treme™ things like bungee jumping off the Eiffel Tower. X-treme™! And if that doesn’t scream x-treme™ to you, maybe the music of Smashmouth will. Ah, 1997. The only thing that would have made this film more 1997 would have been if the climax of the film had featured a retro-swing bar populated by werewolves doing the Lindy. Granted the motif of sensitive 90’s American college student (“No one as beautiful or as sensitive as you deserves to be so sad,” he says to her.) in Europe trying to score with a French girl is really more 1995, but the fact that for both Ethan Hawke and Tom Everett Scott the femme in question is Julie Delpy…well, that really speaks to my generation in a special way. Very special. Very…way.

Anyhow, in the wake of Hostel it was interesting to see an earlier film tackle the idea that there are people in Europe who are just looking for novel ways of dispatching and brutalizing American expatriate college students. Spend your year abroad studying in Fiji and you’re fine. Spend a summer in Europe, though, and you’re one party at the Clube Lune away from being eaten by a werewolf. (And elitist, America-bashing Social Darwinist French werewolves, at that.) Just how old is this distrust of Europe as expressed in horror stories? Older than Smashmouth, I would guess.

The werewolf transformations and lore are pretty good for 1997. The CGI is tolerable, as is most of the humor and action. For a movie that closes with a song by Bush (yeah, it’s just like 1997 all over again) it has aged pretty well. (Though, if this movie was a George Lucas film he would probably have changed the New York skyline for the ending when Serafine (Julie Delpy) and Andy (Tom Everett Scott) jump off the Statue of Liberty. Vince Vieluf (Brad) has a couple of good scenes after his character dies, as does the hilarious Julie Bowen (who attempts to have sex with Andy on Jim Morrison’s grave in Pere Lachaise cemetery). Two Julies for the price of one! And only one of them will make you drink a heart smoothie.

I’m not saying this is one of the best horror comedies ever. I’m not. But it’s pretty good and it’s a really entertaining time capsule of a special, more innocent and yet, more x-treme™, time. So, if you’re tired of brooding werewolves, werewolves who must fight vampires, or would like to see a mix of Hostel without the torture, and Before Sunrise but with Werewolves with a little bit of Eurotrip thrown in, with a pair of Julies, and a French cop (who must be friends with the one from The Transporter) and love Smashmouth, then this is a good fun movie to sit through.

Extras
Trailer
“Things are going to get a little hairy…” Yep, they are. Good trailer.

Additional Titles
The posters for Scream 2, The Crow and Playing God, or as I like to call it, The World’s Most Unlikely Triple Feature.

Jess Franco’s Bram Stoker’s Count Dracula (Singing Al Stewart’s “Year of the Cat”)

Count Dracula (1970) Directed by Jess Franco

You have learnt much. You can do nothing. – Dracula

Many films claim (with varying degrees of pretension) to be faithful to their source material, and few come really close. It’s gotten to the point where it would actually be refreshing to see a film open up with a title card that reads “based tentatively on the hideously uncinematic novel by ___.” We can have a whole argument about why a society that supposedly values original thought and intellectual property should be so demanding of products that are sold as “based on a true story” or claim to be as faithful as possible to someone else’s intellectual property. And we can have another argument about why anyone should or shouldn’t bother to be faithful to Bram Stoker. We can have both arguments right now. Seriously.

But the funny thing is that we should be discussing this at all while talking about a Jess Franco film. My introduction to Señor Franco’s filmmaking efforts began when I stumbled upon a VHS copy of Oasis of the Zombies in the clearance bin at Woolworth’s in Waltham, Mass. For the longest time I thought I had in my possession one of the worst films ever. I have long since stood corrected. The thing about Jess Franco’s Dracula, and what gives it an edge over that other monstrosity (I’m looking at you, Francis Ford Coppola’s Bram Stoker’s Dracula) is that, bless his heart, Jess Franco obviously tried to get it right.

For one thing, he managed to do a pretty good job of hiding his small budget. Dracula’s castle is as good as anything from the contemporaneous Hammer oeuvre. The plot follows Stoker in most cases and if you’ve sat through any three other Dracula films you can almost forgive the changing of the various characters around Mina and Lucy and Jonathan. (It almost seems to be a point of pride amongst Dracula adaptors to see who can make the most hopeless jumble of Harkers, Holmwoods, Sewards, Westenras and Morrises. How hard could it be to keep track of five characters? Maybe they need a soap opera writer to do an adaptation from Bram Stoker.) The most telling detail is in the way Dracula becomes younger and more robust in the course of the film. This is straight out of Stoker, and this was the first film to remember that part of the story and try to represent it. And that’s just one example of Franco’s attempts to keep his film faithful to Stoker. The fact that he makes a halfway decent film while doing it is to his credit. It proves once and for all that he’s not a shitty filmmaker because he doesn’t know how to make a good film or what a good film should look like.

So, maybe you don’t care about whether or not a Dracula film is faithful to Bram Stoker. What else could make you want to see this film? Did I forget to mention that Christopher Lee is Dracula? Yeah, I forgot to mention that. As inconsistent as this film is, it’s probably the best Christopher Lee Dracula performance ever. If you don’t believe me, just skip ahead and watch the monologue that Dracula delivers to Harker about the history of the Draculas. It’s terrifying, awe-inspiring, oddly touching, menacing and simply brilliant. It’s not just the acting there, but the writing is good too. It pains me to think that people will continue to watch that craptastic BS Dracula from the 1990s and will never bother to see a moment of brilliance like Christopher Lee saying “I am not young, yet I am restless.”

And did I mention that Klaus Kinski plays Renfield? I did now. He looks like a blonde Mick Jagger in a strait-jacket. And when you find out he’s gone insane because his daughter was killed by Dracula, he becomes suddenly much more interesting than just some crazy guy who likes to eat flies and lives in a padded cell.

And did I mention that Herbert "Chief Inspector Dreyfus" Lom is Dr. Van Helsing? (Apparently he was the second choice, because they couldn't get Vincent Price.) The only way it could have been better is if they had gotten Alec Guinness for Dr. Seward and Peter Sellers as Quincey Morris. Lom is a great Van Helsing. He could easily have gone head to head with Peter Cushing’s Van Helsing and is a sight better than most of the other versions. (I’ll make an exception for Christopher Plummer’s Van Helsing from Dracula 2000.)

I think what really impressed me (and which felt more true to Stoker than other versions) was the absence of exploitation. There’s no gore or grotesque effects, precious little in the way of blood and nary an exposed ankle’s worth of sexploitation. It’s a film that is almost as repressed as Stoker in its sexuality. For the director of Vampyros Lesbos to show that kind of restraint shows just how well he understood Stoker’s novel and just how true he intended to be to it in spirit. The latent sexual metaphor of vampirism loses its power if you actually show other forms of sexuality. What makes it fascinating in Stoker and in this film is how it is a form of release, if you will. And it makes us more fully understand Lucy and Mina’s mesmerized attraction. Soledad Miranda does a particularly wonderful job of playing the hypnotic hunger when she’s trying to hunt the little girl in the cemetery. It’s seductive without being obviously sexual, which is a good way to describe the best parts of this film.

Of course, it wouldn’t be a real Jess Franco movie without the scene that makes you either groan or laugh like a maniac at the absurdity. In this case, it’s a scene in England where Dracula’s lair is populated with various examples of rural taxidermy that turn and shake a little (like a really piss poor haunted house exhibit) while lights shine and various animal hisses and screeches are heard. Franco says the scene is symbolic of Dracula’s violation of the natural order of things, presumably because Dracula can wire up the forces of taxidermy and a reel-to-reel tape player. It’s the only scene that reminded me that this was a Jess Franco film and it made me smile a little (yes, that’s a badger over there, and not just any badger but Dracula’s Badger, with pointy buck teeth) even if it felt very out of place in an otherwise noble effort.

Extras

If Christopher Lee, Klaus Kinski, Herbert Lom and Soledad Miranda weren’t enough for you, then maybe you’ll want to stick around for the extras.

1. Christopher Lee reads Bram Stoker’s Dracula
It’s an abridgement, but it clocks in at around 84 minutes, so it’s a good night’s entertainment and a great moment in audiobook history. You really haven’t lived until you’ve heard Christopher Lee narrate the entirety of Dracula. Also, if you had any doubts about how faithful Jess Franco really was to Stoker, you can actually listen up. Again, I think it shows a respect and love for the original on the part of both Jess Franco and Christopher Lee.

2. Beloved Count
A retrospective documentary featuring interviews with Jess Franco and others. Besides stories about Klaus Kinski (who apparently gave Jess Franco no trouble at all but allegedly bothered the producer Harry Alan Towers in novel ways, if Towers is to be believed) the most amusing part is to see Jess Franco (subtitled, even though he’s speaking in English, allegedly) trash-talking Francis Ford Coppola’s Mary Shelley's Bram Stoker’s Dracula. “I know that Coppola said his adaptation is more faithful to Dracula. It’s not true. The meaning of the film is completely wrong…” I can’t do full justice to either Jess Franco’s mangled English or his hilarious delivery here, so you’ll just have to watch it yourself. In another context I might consider it would be ironic, absurd or surreal to watch any filmmaker being taken to task by Jess Franco, but the thing is, when he says that Coppola’s Dracula is absurd, he’s right. And there’s something entertaining about watching Jess Franco be right about something.

One more thing that Jess Franco may be right about is Klaus Kinski. Franco’s response to one anecdote is the best demythologizing line I’ve ever heard: “I can’t remember that because it’s not true.” The story in question is that Kinski had no intention of doing a Dracula movie and that he didn’t realize he was in one until a moment of clarity while working on a scene with Maria Rohm (wife of producer Harry Alan Towers) and said to her “That bastard husband of yours has got me in a Dracula film.” For this story to be believable we’d have to think that Klaus Kinski didn’t read the script (or didn’t have a script) that he didn’t know his character was named Renfield or that he was in a scene with someone named Mina or that he was so drugged up that he only became lucid halfway through filming. Makes a great story, but maybe it’s one more thing that Jess Franco is actually right about. But lest we completely dispense with the legend of Klaus Kinski, Difficult Actor, Franco does mention that Kinski wanted them to shoot his scenes in a real asylum. Franco recalls, “I said if we start shooting with you in a real cell, they hear you, they won’t let you out.”

More difficult than Kinski were the Catalan police dogs, which prompt this aphorism for filmmakers: Always in cinema you have problems because of the dogs.

3. Soledad Miranda essay
A brief bio about the late Soledad Miranda who died in a car accident in 1970 not long after making most of the films she is remembered for.

4. Still Gallery
Be sure to check out all the foreign posters for the film.