FILM FRENZY

Grave of the Fireflies (Photo: Shout! Studios, GKIDS, and Studio Ghibli)

By Matt Brunson

(View From The Couch is a weekly column that reviews what’s new on Blu-ray, 4K and DVD. Ratings are on a four-star scale.)

GRAVE OF THE FIREFLIES (1988). Well, this was certainly the wrong movie at the wrong time. This Japanese animated feature from director Isao Takahata and Studio Ghibli is one of those acknowledged classics that I’ve somehow always missed. Having now caught it, I can agree with that sentiment, as it is indeed magnificent. But it’s also among the most depressing movies I have ever seen, ranking alongside such titles as Italy’s Bicycle Thieves (see From Screen To Stream below), New Zealand’s Once Were Warriors, the U.S.’s Requiem for a Dream, Russia’s Come and See, Sweden’s Lilya 4-ever, and France’s Irreversible. (Misery: the #1 global commodity!) And while this tale of two children trying to survive in WWII Japan would be a harrowing watch at any point in time, watching it today, when I’m perpetually depressed over so many deplorables in this country openly cheering Latino mothers being ripped away from their babies or shrugging their shoulders as Palestinian children are dying of hunger and Ukrainian kids are being eviscerated by bombs … well, how does one stop the bawling? Grave of the Fireflies is a cinematic stake through the heart, following 14-year-old Seita and his 4-year-old sister Setsuko as they find themselves homeless after their house is destroyed during an air raid and alone after their mother is fatally mangled in said bombing (their father is off fighting, but they haven’t heard from him in a while, so…). They initially live with some relatives, but their aunt proves to be so horrendous (she’s not always wrong, but she is always awful) that they elect to move into a cave and take care of themselves. Takahata relates the story as a flashback so that the opening sequence can prepare audiences for how this will all end, but trust me, it doesn’t help in the least. Don’t miss this one, but be sure to immediately follow it with Studio Ghibli’s My Neighbor Totoro (indeed, they played as a double feature upon initial release in Japan), a couple of I Love Lucy episodes, and maybe a Marx Brothers movie marathon for good measure.

Blu-ray extras include an interview with Takahata; an interview with Roger Ebert about the film; and deleted-scene storyboards.

Movie: ★★★★

KIT KITTREDGE: AN AMERICAN GIRL (2008). For its first two-thirds, this movie, based on both the popular doll line and the equally successful book series, unexpectedly registers as a mature and intelligent drama — in this case, the G rating stands for Grown-ups as much as it stands for General Audiences. It’s just a shame that the film loses its bearings and turns into a Home Alone clone during the final stretch, although even here, I suppose the filmmakers can be partly excused for finally remembering to add some slapstick elements that serve as catnip to the kids. The picture is set in Cincinnati during the height of the Great Depression, and preteen Kit (Abigail Breslin) watches as her father (Chris O’Donnell) has to move away to Chicago to look for work and her mother (Julia Ormond) is forced to rent out rooms to boarders. Still, kids will be kids, and although she has to take on more than her share of adult responsibilities, Kit also finds time to dream about becoming a published writer and manages to make some new friends, including a pair of young hobos (Max Thierot and Willow Smith) who help out around the place. The various plights of the Kittredges, their struggling neighbors, and members of the hobo community add a bracing topicality to the piece, particularly as the nation’s haves continue to further separate themselves from the have-nots. The weighty themes remain throughout the picture, though they decidedly end up taking a back seat to the buffoonish antics of Joan Cusack (as a clumsy librarian) and a tepid subplot involving a string of burglaries.

There are no DVD extras.

Movie: ★★★

LAW AND ORDER (1932) / RUSTLERS’ RHAPSODY (1985). Here are two Westerns recently released on the Kino label — one’s the genuine article while the other is an affectionate spoof of the genre.

Before there was Henry Fonda as Wyatt Earp (see From Screen To Stream below), Burt Lancaster as Wyatt Earp, Kurt Russell as Wyatt Earp, and Kevin Costner as Wyatt Earp, there was Walter Huston as … Frame Johnson? That might be the name given to the character, but it’s plain to see that he’s meant to represent the famed lawman, and the movie even ends with a gunfight at the O.K. Corral. Co-written by Walter’s son John Huston and adapted from William R. Burnett’s novel Saint Johnson, this finds Frame and his three partners (Harry Carey, Raymond Hatton, and Russell Hopton) arriving in the town of Tombstone, where they discover that the Northrup gang has everyone living in fear. Frame decides to become the town marshal, but his controversial policies inadvertently lead to the final shootout. Huston projects quiet authority in the central role, and the gun battles are well-mounted. Andy Devine figures in the most bizarre sequence, playing a simpleton who’s afraid of being hanged for a murder he committed until Frame convinces him that it’s an honor to be the first man hung in the territory! Three more film versions of this novel followed, the last in 1953 and starring Ronald Reagan as Frame.

Rustlers’ Rhapsody is pretty much what you would expect from the writer-director of Police Academy: a few smiles but nothing resembling a real laugh, a mishandling of the picture’s potential for sharp-edged satire, and a cast of game actors whose winking, self-conscious approach works against the material. Rex O’Herlihan (Tom Berenger), “the singing cowboy,” is the hero of numerous black-and-white Westerns from the 30s and 40s. But what if Rex were to be placed in a more modern oater, one made in color and filtered through contemporary sensibilities? That basic premise isn’t clearly defined, and while helmer Hugh Wilson clearly has affection for the genre, there isn’t much in here to erase memories of Mel Brooks’ Blazing Saddles. Andy Griffith has a few good moments as a corrupt cattle baron, but nobody else, from Marilu Henner as a hooker with a heart of gold to Patrick Wayne (John’s son) as another heroic cowboy, contributes much to the mirth.

Blu-ray extras on Law and Order include Western film historian audio commentary and a conversation about the movie with filmmaker Bertrand Tavernier (Coup de Torchon, Round Midnight). The Blu-ray also contains a second film: the 1932 Western Without Honor, starring Carey. Blu-ray extras on Rustlers’ Rhapsody include film historian audio commentary and the theatrical trailer.

Law and Order: ★★★

Rustlers’ Rhapsody: ★★

THE PEACEMAKER (1997). Back in Fall 1997, the big entertainment news was that Steven Spielberg, David Geffen, and Jeffrey Katzenberg had formed a movie studio, DreamWorks Pictures. It’s hard for any fledgling Hollywood studio to make its mark — Orion Pictures, for example, was launched in 1978 and stumbled around for six years before going on to produce four Best Picture Oscar winners in an eight-year span, while the quality of TriStar’s first few features back in 1984 was so poor that one wag suggested the studio change its name to OneStar. Yet DreamWorks fared better than many: Its second film, the Spielberg-helmed Amistad, was an award contender, while its third movie, the comedy Mousehunt (reviewed here just last week), was a commercial hit. But its very first release didn’t launch as successfully as anticipated, with The Peacemaker earning mediocre reviews and failing to earn back its budget at the U.S. box office. The lack of excitement was understandable, given that it’s a generic thriller marginally elevated by director Mimi Leder’s efficient staging of the action sequences. George Clooney is Lieutenant Colonel Thomas Devoe, a Military Intelligence officer who teams up with scientist and White House liaison Dr. Julia Kelly (Nicole Kidman) to determine who’s behind the theft of several Russian nuclear warheads. As a Russian security officer and Devoe’s trusted friend, Armin Mueller-Stahl provides the picture with some much-needed warmth, while Kidman is atypically bland as a brainy woman who talks like a computer printout. As for Clooney, he’s merely OK as an ace officer who, although the movie tries to downplay it, is a chauvinist and a xenophobe — this must be scripter Michael Schiffer’s idea of endearing character traits.

Extras in the 4K + Blu-ray edition include film historian audio commentary; deleted scenes; and stunt footage.

Movie: ★★½

SLEEP (SCHLAF) (2021). The Brothers Grimm take a trip to the Overlook Hotel in Sleep, an atmospheric terror tale from German writer-director Michael Venus. A troubled flight attendant (Anatomy of a Fall Oscar nominee Sandra Hüller) suffers from crippling dreams in which she sees a specific hotel; after stumbling across its location in the real world, she pays a visit and immediately suffers a breakdown that mentally and physically shuts her down. Concerned for her mother, Mona (Gro Swantje-Kohlhof) also ventures to the desolate hotel, where she meets the cryptic owners (August Schmölzer and Marion Kracht) and encounters her own series of disturbing imagery, such as the bloody suicides of three men tied to the hotel and a wild boar that regularly makes its presence known. As Mona investigates further, she discovers that it becomes increasingly difficult to find the dividing line between her waking and dream states. The influences on Venus (who co-scripted with Thomas Friedrich) alternate between obvious (David Lynch) and improbable (Silent Hill?), but the unique look of the film is distinctively his own. It’s an ambitious undertaking — one I found a bit too ambitious, as issues involving repressed guilt, personal trauma, matriarchal bonds, patriarchal sins, fairy tales rooted in history, and the continual rebirth of Nazism all jockey for position and occasionally crowd each other out. Despite some jarring tonal shifts, Sleep is worth watching and, given its denseness, perhaps worth watching more than once.

Blu-ray extras include film critic audio commentary; an introduction by Venus and Swantje-Kohlhof; a behind-the-scenes piece; a conversation with Venus and Swantje-Kohlhof; deleted scenes; a closer look at the dream journal sketches seen throughout the film; and an image gallery.

Movie: ★★½

SUGAR HILL (1974). It’s Mother Jefferson as you’ve never seen her before, playing a different sort of Mama! Zara Cully, who would become famous for playing the matriarch on TV’s The Jeffersons, portrays one of the most intriguing characters in Sugar Hill, a blaxploitation horror flick that American International Pictures made as a follow-up to its hits Blacula and Scream Blacula Scream. Cully is Mama Maitresse, a voodoo priestess who’s approached by Diana “Sugar” Hill (Marki Bey) when the latter seeks revenge against the mobsters who murdered her boyfriend (Larry Don Johnson) so they might acquire his nightclub. Mama Maitresse summons underworld overlord Baron Samedi (Don Pedro Colley), who in turn raises a number of zombies to kill the responsible crime boss (Robert Quarry) and his henchmen. The rest of the movie is basically bad guys being offed by zombies, but it’s quite entertaining, and there are even some juicy lines of dialogue mixed in with all the otherwise awkward exchanges and doltish declarations. It should also be noted that these aren’t the flesh-munching zombies made popular by George Romero but rather the old-school sort found in flicks like White Zombie with Bela Lugosi, Jacques Tourneur’s I Walked With a Zombie, and Hammer’s The Plague of the Zombies, deceased Haitians (or Haitian descendants) who must obey the commands of the person who called them forth.

Blu-ray extras include audio commentary by director Paul Maslansky; interviews with Maslansky and co-stars Don Pedro Colley, Richard Lawson, and Charles Robinson; the theatrical trailer; and radio spots.

Movie: ★★★

FROM SCREEN TO STREAM

BICYCLES THIEVES (1948). More commonly known in the United States under the title The Bicycle Thief, the Italian import Ladri di Biciclette is a masterpiece by any name. It’s not hyperbole to flatly state that this is one of the all-time greats in the annals of cinema; on my own list of the best foreign-language films ever made, it’s second, just under Ingmar Bergman’s The Seventh Seal and just above Akira Kurosawa’s Ran. A key motion picture in the burgeoning Italian neorealist movement, this international sensation was an attractive enough property to catch the attention of Hollywood producer David O. Selznick, who envisioned it as a project for Cary Grant. That probably would have made for a decent movie, but by electing instead to shoot their film in Italy with nonprofessional actors, director Vittorio De Sica and scripter Cesare Zavattini created a timeless classic and in the process helped push along the maturation of world cinema. Lamberto Maggiorani, a real working-class joe, plays Antonio, whose job putting up posters around Rome depends on his bike. After the vehicle is stolen, he and his adoring son Bruno (Enzo Staiola, a natural in front of the camera) comb the back streets of the city in a frantic search for the thief. From its opening moments to the devastating finale (perhaps the most wrenching conclusion I’ve ever witnessed on screen), there isn’t a false note in this important and highly influential landmark. This earned an Academy Honorary Award as the most outstanding foreign language film (before foreign flicks had their own competitive category), receiving an additional Oscar nomination for Best Screenplay.

Movie: ★★★★

JUBAL (1956) / 3:10 TO YUMA (1957) / COWBOY (1958). For three consecutive years, director Delbert Daves teamed with actor Glenn Ford to shoot a Western. Here they be.

Based on a novel by Western author Paul Wellman, but with a massive nod in the direction of Shakespeare’s Othello, Jubal stars Ford as Jubal Troop, a down-on-his-luck stranger who’s given a job as a cattleman by jolly rancher Shep Horgan. Since Shep is played by Ernest Borgnine, we know the character’s a crude, fat slob, which explains why his beautiful wife Mae (Valerie French) sports ideas about rolling around in the hay with Jubal. But a fellow cowhand, the mean-tempered Pinky (Rod Steiger), resents Jubal’s presence on the ranch as well as his effect on Mae, so he hatches a plan that would make Iago proud. Jubal is a movie of roiling tensions, as the four lead characters constantly are pitted against each other due to jealousy, deceit, and misunderstandings. Ford is appropriately stoic in the central role, and it’s impossible to watch Steiger’s scenery-chewing work without recalling his similarly slimy turn as a ranch laborer in the previous year’s Oklahoma! Future superstar Charles Bronson, still comfortably ensconced in his position as one of Hollywood’s most reliable supporting actors, turns up as a cowboy who befriends Jubal.

Like The Gunfighter and Winchester ’73, 3:10 to Yuma is one of those defining ’50s Westerns that is well-known by film buffs but has never reached the familiarity level of a High Noon or Shane — the only reason it’s relatively recognizable to the masses today is because Russell Crowe and Christian Bale headlined a decent remake back in 2007. Based on an Elmore Leonard story, this one finds Ford portraying the ostensible bad guy: Ben Wade, an outlaw who’s been captured and awaiting transportation to prison. With no one else brave enough to accept the job of babysitting the criminal until the train is ready to leave for the Yuma jail, Dan Evans (Van Heflin), a farmer in desperate need of the cash the assignment pays, volunteers for the job. This leads to a battle of wills as Wade plays mind games with his captor as they both wait it out in a cramped hotel room; meanwhile, Wade’s gang strategizes on how best to spring its leader. Unlike Jubal, which was shot in beautiful Technicolor and awe-inspiring CinemaScope, 3:10 to Yuma is a black-and-white affair filmed in the more standard widescreen aspect ratio, a sound decision given the claustrophobic setting and psychological grit.

Ford has always looked as naturally home on the range as John Wayne or Clint Eastwood, but Jack Lemmon was a different story: A thoroughly modern actor, he was far more at home by the gas oven range — like the one used for pasta-making in Billy Wilder’s The Apartment. Cowboy, based on Frank Harris’ My Reminiscences as a Cowboy, takes advantage of the dissimilarities between the two actors by casting Ford as a seasoned cowboy and Lemmon as a wanna-be cowboy. Lemmon’s Frank Harris is working as a hotel clerk in Chicago when he meets Tom Reece (Ford), a cattle herder who’s in between runs. Circumstances allow Harris to quit his job and become part of Reece’s outfit, a development that leaves the veteran cowpoke wary of the young man’s naivety and inexperience. For his part, Harris quickly discovers that life in the great outdoors isn’t grandly romantic as he had believed, and his new brothers-in-arms, a motley crew with very few manners or morality between them, fail miserably to live up to his idealistic expectations. At 92 minutes, Cowboy is simply too short to fully explore its characters and their arcs — Harris goes from mild-mannered greenhorn to tough-as-nails cowhand in a matter of one scene — but it’s nevertheless an interesting oater.

Jubal: ★★★½

3:10 to Yuma: ★★★½

Cowboy: ★★★

MISS SADIE THOMPSON (1953). W. Somerset Maugham’s short story “Miss Thompson” (aka “Rain”) was brought to the screen on four separate occasions, although the last time was over 60 years ago (indeed, Maugham’s literary output has been almost entirely ignored by modern filmmakers). The 1928 silent feature Sadie Thompson was a hit for Gloria Swanson, the 1932 Rain was a flop for Joan Crawford (check out the review here), and the unauthorized 1946 adaptation Dirty Gertie from Harlem, U.S.A., starring NC native Francine Everett, was exclusively shown on the “race movie” circuit. The fourth and final version, 1953’s Miss Sadie Thompson, is the one starring Rita Hayworth as well as the one initially released in 3-D. Lovely Rita commands the screen as a good-time girl who inspires open lust in a macho Marine (Aldo Ray) and repressed lust in a pompous Christian (Jose Ferrer) while island-hopping in the South Pacific. “Fanatics are often too obsessed by what they fight against to know why they’re really fighting it” is just one of several lines taking aim at the hypocrisy of religious zealots, but crisp dialogue can’t completely disguise the abrupt character transformations and the choppy narrative — the result, as was usually the case, of the need to appease Will Hays and his Production Code prudes. Look for Charles Bronson as one of Ray’s buddies. “Sadie Thompson’s Song (The Blue Pacific Blues)” earned an Oscar nomination as Best Original Song, but the show-stopping tune is “The Heat Is On,” with Rita raising temperatures with her shimmying.

Movie: ★★½

MY DARLING CLEMENTINE (1946). Serious actors are always itching to play Hamlet, but maybe they should consider the role of Doc Holliday instead. While the stars who are cast as marshal Wyatt Earp receive all the worshipful camera angles, those filling the part of the hard-drinking, hard-coughing gambler — and Earp’s partner in taking down the Clanton clan at the OK Corral — often garner some of the best reviews of their careers. Kirk Douglas, Jason Robards, and Val Kilmer have all excelled in the role (in, respectively, Gunfight at the O.K. Corral, Hour of the Gun, and Tombstone), yet preceding them was Victor Mature, who did some of his finest work in director John Ford’s Western classic. As Earp, Henry Fonda’s no slouch, either, masterfully playing the legend as a man who’s rigid with the law but playful on his own terms (check out the famous chair-balancing scene) and ingratiatingly awkward around the lady who catches his eye (Cathy Downs as Clementine). Then there’s Walter Brennan: Usually seen as an affable, aw-shucks sidekick (Rio Bravo, Red River, etc.), he’s downright chilling in this picture, portraying the paterfamilias of the murderous Clanton clan. My Darling Clementine represents superb moviemaking on every level, with the in-sync portrayals by Fonda and Mature, an exquisite screenplay, and beautiful black-and-white cinematography combining to make this the best Western Ford ever filmed without John Wayne on board.

Movie: ★★★★

 SAVED! (2004). By trying to be all things to all people, Saved! is the sort of movie that ends up not completely satisfying anybody. Hard-line Christians will think it goes too far; open-minded Christians will think it doesn’t go far enough; and non-Christians will think it doesn’t go anywhere at all. The odd thing is that there’s probably some measure of truth in all these viewpoints. Set at American Eagle Christian High School, the film casts Jena Malone as Mary, a kind-hearted teenager whose act of religious charity ends up leaving her pregnant. Now ostracized by her best friend Hilary Faye (Mandy Moore), the most popular girl in school as well as the most vocal in her adoration of God, Mary finds herself hanging around with the outcasts, including Hilary Faye’s paraplegic brother (Macaulay Culkin) and a rebellious Jewish girl (Eva Amurri, Susan Sarandon’s daughter). The cast couldn’t have been better chosen, and the movie clearly has its heart in the right place with its message that the best Christians — indeed, the best people — are those who are able to accept the imperfections in their fellow sinners. Yet all too often, writer-director Brian Dannelly and writer Michael Urban don’t bother to make it clear that their rough draft of a script is attacking sanctioned hypocrisy rather than religious devotion. As for the comedy quotient, it runs hot-and-cold — in fact, the funniest thing in the picture isn’t a line of dialogue but a bumper sticker that reads, “Jesus Loves You; Everyone Else Thinks You’re An Asshole.”

Movie: ★★½

SLEEPER (1973). It’s perhaps hard for many to fathom now, but there once was a period when Woody Allen’s movies were reliable entities at the box office and generally turned a nice return on investment. That would be during the 1970s — indeed, an up-to-date list of the auteur’s top 10 moneymakers reveals that an impressive five titles remain from that decade, even when not adjusted for inflation. One of that quintet is Sleeper, an often uproarious comedy with Allen cast as Miles Monroe, a Greenwich Village resident who goes into the hospital for a minor procedure in 1973 and reawakens 200 years later. It’s not a brave new world as much as an oppressive one, and Miles and a wealthy, wanna-be poet of the time, Luna Schlosser (Diane Keaton), both end up joining the resistance in order to overthrow the Orwellian government. The most physical of Allen’s comedies, this finds the actor paying tribute to some of his favorites like Bob Hope and the Marx Brothers, with many of the gags especially reminiscent of such silent-film stars as Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin (and in his robot guise, he even looks like silent-cinema genius Harold Lloyd). This isn’t to say the verbal cracks get short shrift: Targets include Howard Cosell, Richard Nixon (“They counted the silverware every time he left the White House”), Beverly Hills, and, of course, sex (the Orgasmatron might be the greatest invention since the wheel). If nothing else, Sleeper will always contain the greatest slipping-on-a-banana-peel gag committed to celluloid.

Movie: ★★★½