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pinkertonmc
Reviews
Sextette (1977)
WHEN GOLDEN GIRLS ATTACK!
It really boggles the mind to see comments like those posted below by sexsymbolfan and planet9. Listen up, the both of you, I have absolutely no problem with you loving a film that others think is a piece of garbage. I think we all have a few of those titles hiding out in our home entertainment libraries. However, your arguments that people don't like "Sextette" strictly (or, at least, primarily) because of their seething age prejudice is absolutely ridiculous.
Now, before you get all hell-bent for leather on me, let me be fair. Have I seen this movie? Many times. Do I own a copy of this film? You bet! I have the DVD version. Do I find the film entertaining? Absolutely! It's just that it is entertaining in a way no one (and, yes, that includes your idol Ms. West) ever intended.
This was a vanity project from start to finish, folks. It's as simple and as sad as that. Had this flick been made in the fifties or even the early to mid-sixties, you could probably make a case for it. Lest we forget, however, this was a late-seventies production. Most folks (including Mae's original fan base) had evolved their tastes by this time and this attempt to revive the wheezy antics of yesteryear is just a case of ego run amok. Sure, it may still be fun to watch Mae banter back and forth with W.C. Fields and others. It's still a gas to watch the Three Stooges conk each other's noggins or the Marx Brothers turn society dos into total anarchy or Abbott and Costello banter back and forth like opponents in a game of verbal table-tennis. But face it, people, if you tried to do the same thing today you would fail miserably and rightly so. The fact is that cinema, like all art forms, evolves with time (or, at least, it should). The glories of yesteryear should be left right there in the long ago. The problem with "Sextette" is not that its being unfairly ridiculed by a bunch of age-discriminators or Mae West-haters. The problem with "Sextette" (one of many, Many, MANY problems) is that it is a showcase for a talent that sat still and stagnated for damn near forty years. I don't care how wonderful the dish was. If left in the refrigerator too long it will eventually go bad.
Unfortunately that is the truth of your idol as exhibited in this flick. I don't doubt for a moment the reality of age-discrimination in the world we live in. The human race seems to be forever coming up with new and diverse ways to split itself into innumerable factions and argue why this group is better than that one. I don't doubt for a moment that there were some critics and audience members that detested Ms. West's antics from the moment they first laid eyes on her. There's nothing you can do about that. There is, as they say, no accounting for taste. Best to just leave those folks to their own devices. However, arguing that "Sextette" is a good movie meant to seem campy (which, as it is used here, seems like a synonym for "bad") is absolutely ridiculous. "Sextette" was and is an example of what happens when someone with more ego than brains and/or talent is allowed to conjure up a vanity project and unleash it upon an unsuspecting audience.
I'm sure Ms. West was a very nice and wonderfully charming woman in real life (as attested to by scato345, who had the opportunity to meet her on the set), but she was no artist. Artists evolve. Mae stagnated. And watching her attempting to relive her glory days one last time is about as pathetic as watching a fifty year old man try out for the Dallas Cowboys after bragging of his high school team prowess for thirty years. There comes a point where good intentions simply are not enough and the reality of a situation must be acknowledged and accepted lest (best case scenario) you come off looking like a delusional ass or (worst case scenario) you have your self-esteem, your dreams and, quite possibly, your bodily self shattered into a million pieces.
I bare Ms. West no ill will nor do I seek to tarnish her memory. I don't dislike octogenarians nor do I believe they should be subjected to any form of discrimination or unfair treatment. However, neither do I believe that one's age or sex or race or religion or whatever should make their actions critique-proof simply because someone might shout out charges of discrimination. That is a form of social blackmail that has been allowed to go unchecked for far too long and is every bit as unfair as the practice of true discrimination based on anything other than real ability.
...E tu vivrai nel terrore! L'aldilà (1981)
I TRIED SO HARD
Well, folks, I tried. Man, how I tried! I tried harder to like this flick than I have with any other movie save "Pulp Fiction" and "Dr. Zhivago" and you know what? I still hate all three of them. "PF" I hate for being too long and too damn self-important. There's nothing like listening to a moron who thinks he/she's being brilliant rattle on endlessly about absolutely nothing. "DZ" is just plain BOOORRRIIINNNGGG!!! I don't care what anyone says, that film puts me to sleep quicker than a fistful of Xanax and a Bob Ross marathon rolled into one. To be fair, I've never been much of a fan of the epic, cast of thousands breed of filmmaking, however, so that comment should probably be taken with a grain of salt. Also, I do own the soundtrack so... nuf said.
No such conflict exists with me when it comes to horror films and particularly horror films from Italy. While these oddball imports are certainly not to all tastes and, realistically, have about the same good stuff to utter crap ratio found in every genre and budget of the film and video world, there are some diamonds to be found amongst the slag.
Dario Argento is probably the most accessible of the Italian horror directors for an American audience. His films are fast paced, use a lot of really cool camera moves and he keeps the suspense consistently high. While I was decidedly underwhelmed by "Suspiria," his giallo efforts in "Deep Red" and "Tenebre" succeeded to a degree that has never been equaled in this peculiarly Italian subgenre.
I also admire the horror films (few though they are) of Joe D'Amato.
There are several Mario Bava flicks which serve as centerpieces to my DVD collection and, of course, his son Lamberto's "Demon" double-header is just great.
There is also a Fulci title which graces my collection and it is without a doubt the one film of his I heartily recommend: "Zombie."
But enough with the preamble, we're here to talk about "The Beyond." I won't bore you with a plot synopsis both because I can't stand them and because you're sure to find plenty of them gracing this site already. What I will talk about is the sheer awfulness of this mess of a movie.
As most reviewers will concede, the plot makes little to no sense. The dialogue is wretched and is helped out in no way by a very poor dubbing job (honestly, is there any such thing as a good dubbing job?). But these same reviewers end up lauding the film for its graphic gore scenes and its "great atmosphere."
Here's a little trade secret, friends: When the only good things a reviewer has to say about a film involve words like "atmosphere" or "mood," you are in for a bad experience. I agree that cinematic art is not entirely dependent upon such things as plot or dialogue (nor am I trying to argue that it should be). Still, these people seem to be ignoring the fact that what we are here presented with is not a so-called "art film" but a horror flick. As far as I am concerned, the two play by a very different set of rules.
And while some of the graphic violence is depicted with passable make-up effects, there are just as many which are done with poor ones. The tarantula scene is definitely not all its cracked up to be as it becomes obvious after the first few seconds that what we are seeing is one or two real spiders surrounded by stiff rod puppets being wiggled back and forth by an off-screen tech. Even when the effects are competently rendered, Fulci shows about as much directorial restraint as your average porno filmmaker as he makes damn sure to zoom right in on every gaping, spurting wound. The result is something you feel almost bad about watching after awhile as it is so determined to be shocking but succeeds only in being unpleasant.
As stated earlier, I have no axe to grind with the horror film. I've been a fan for years. Neither do I consider Fulci to be a complete hack because "Zombie" was such an effective addition to that genre and belongs right alongside Romero's Dead Trilogy. What I have a problem with is lazy storytelling and lazy filmmaking, which is precisely what this movie boils down to. Wasn't it possible to find a set decorator who knew enough English to spot the error in a sign reading "DO NOT ENTRY"? Was there no one in the cast or the dubbing room smart enough to spot the irony in a line like, "You have carte blanche but not a blank check."? Why in god's name would any writer worth his/her pen and ink ever decide to set their story in New Orleans when they obviously knew nothing about the place (as witnessed by the fact that houses in this version of New Orleans have basements)? Didn't anyone every question the logic of attaching electrodes to monitor the brain waves of a decomposing corpse? What about the genius who figures every hospital keeps a huge open tub of flesh-eating acid precariously balanced high atop a rickety bookshelf? Granted, on their own these foibles, fumbles and f***-ups may not be enough to sink the whole film, but taken together they add up to a filmmaker who either had no respect whatsoever for his audience and therefore no qualms about insulting their intelligence or simply was not himself intelligent enough to catch them. While several of the films mentioned earlier have their fair share of low points (perfection is unattainable to us mere mortals, after all), none of them come anywhere near the sort of slap-dash exploitation on display with this film. It might be entertaining enough to keep a drunk and rowdy midnight movie crowd happy, but viewed in the light of day the film simply doesn't hold up.
There's Always Vanilla (1971)
IN A WORLD WHERE ROMERO AND CASSAVETTES TRADED SOULS...
This film reminded me of nothing so much as a John Cassavettes movie. Yes, I mean that as the sincerest of compliments, but whether or not you like it will probably depend upon your feelings about ol' John C. He's a controversial figure even twenty years after his death.
Anyway, despite the video notes from Something Weird, Ray Laine looks and acts just like Russell Crowe. It's almost frightening. While Judith Ridley (here billed as Streiner) is just as lovely as ever and, surprisingly enough in light of her unimpressive turn in "Night of the Living Dead," can actually act.
Okay, so the flick is full of standard issue seventies lingo and some of the most godawful fashion statements since Mrs. Roper, but the writing and direction make up for it. Romero's editing and shot compositions are, perhaps, the best I've seen from him to date. It is odd that George should have excised this piece of work so completely from his opus. Despite its timeliness, it is actually a very accomplished film. The dialogue is crisp and witty. The performances are well delivered across the board. I truly didn't have a problem in the world with this little diamond in the rough. I admit that a few scenes within the first third of the picture were just a bit gag inducing. (Why is it that all these "Love Stories" have to feature a musical montage of the two doe-eyed young lovers going to a play ground, going on a picnic, eating ice cream, etc.?) The final third of the film, as the relationship hits the rocks, however, more than makes up for it with moments truly disturbing. The abortionist sequence in particular was everything I expected it to be and then some. Without resorting to hard core gore or exploitation techniques, Romero manages to provide a real wince inducing air of suspense and danger that will probably be remembered long after the cutesy-poo stuff is forgotten.
All in all, I must say that Romero needs to take stock of his film output over the last few years. Is "There's Always Vanilla" perfect? No, of course not. Is it worlds better than the drek Georgie-Boy's been churning out ever since "Creepshow"? Absolutely! If I were him, I'd bring back "TAV" on a deluxe package DVD replete with audio commentary and plenty of extras and start issuing some damning (or, at least, distancing) statements about "Monkey Shines", "Two Evil Eyes" and "The Dark Half."
Movie Fun: Try and spot all the actors from "Night of the Living Dead" that also made their way into this film. Something Weird Video helpfully points out Ridley (of course) as well as the first ghoul in the cemetery and Judith's husband (Mr. "They're coming to get you, Barbara!") I also found the sheriff lurking here as the abortionist's front man. His turn makes his "Good shot!" comment from "NotLD" seem positively Alan-Alda sensitive. I'm sure there are more familiar faces to be found, but they'll have to wait for repeat viewings.