Movie Review: MANIAC (1963)

I narrowed my Saturday night movie search down to something with Kerwin Mathews, an underrated actor from the 1950s and ’60s who I find easy on the eyes and fun to watch.

Hammer Films’ MANIAC (1963, though filmed in 1962), directed by one of Hammer’s staple producers and directors, Michael Carreras, is generally well-done crime thriller intrigue. Set in the Camargue of Southern France, Mathews plays Jeff Farrell, an American artist traveling abroad. He spurns his spoiled rich girl British girlfriend, who leaves him behind at a backwater inn. There, Farrell grows close with a woman and her stepdaughter who, together, run the small hotel. Jealousy between the two for Farrell’s affections becomes readily apparent. What is less obvious but soon suggested are dark, ulterior motives by at least one of these women. Off camera, the husband and father is locked away in an insane asylum for brutally killing a man who raped his teenaged daughter four years earlier. Farrell gets involved with helping him escape.

I did find myself wondering why Farrell shifts his romantic interest from one of the women to the other for no clear reason. That is one area– a big area– of the script that seems poorly written, leaving Farrell coming across as somewhat superficial and insincere, not fully developed as a character. Mathews did well within this flawed screenplay, however. He comes across as sympathetic, a well-meaning, romantic man who gets in way over his head.

Plot twists unfold in the film, mostly predictable but not completely. I was impressed with the surprise ending. However, other viewers who are more well-versed with crime mystery formulae than I may find the whole narrative completely predictable. Regardless, MANIAC is succinctly written, though flawed as noted above, coming in at under ninety minutes. With solid acting by the whole cast (and particular kudos to the lovely Nadia Gray), a thrilling soundtrack by Stanley Black, and wonderful cinematography of French oceanside, country and old buildings, MANIAC moves crisply and gracefully along. The black and white choice for filming lends an effective starkness and sense of foreboding to the overall mood, drawing, it seems, from the older film noir style. This is 1960s cinema at some of its best, sans a somewhat superficial, unevenly written script.

Mini Movie Review: BOB MARLEY: ONE LOVE

BOB MARLEY: ONE LOVE was generally well-done. The movie largely takes place from 1976-1978, before Bob Marley’s death from cancer in 1981. There are a fair amount of flashback scenes to his youth. Those mostly consisted of early times with his eventual wife Rita and a few of him as a little boy with his mother. Bob’s white father decided to have nothing to do with him.

I would like to have seen more footage of early days with Bob and his band the Wailers. One pivotal scene of them launching a recording career is shown. I was hoping to hear more of their early music. For movie length and budget concerns, I guess all the writers and producers decided to not prioritize depicting much of this aspect and time period (the 1960s and early ’70s) of Bob Marley’s life.

I appreciated how his music was largely the focus, particularly songs from his EXODUS album. Kingsley Ben-Adir and Lashana Lynch were solid choices to play Marley and his wife Rita, respectively. I found myself getting more connected to all of his songs I loved and listened to so much while I was in college in the mid and late 1980s. Jah love!

Mini Movie Review: THAT MAN BOLT (1973)

THAT MAN BOLT (1973) is a fun Blaxploitation action movie starring the lusciously handsome Fred Williamson in the title role. As a football star in the 1960s, he has the physique for this very physical part. Jefferson Bolt is (of course) a lone wolf ladies man who is pushed into delivering a briefcase full of money from Hong Kong to Mexico. His travels take different turns as he diligently works on uncovering who is behind the efforts to kill him and steal the briefcase. Action abounds, effectively assisted along by a groovy jazzy soundtrack I often felt like dancing to. Bolt often smiles like a cat who just ate the canary, ensuring a tongue-in-cheek, playful tone to the movie. Caricaturing by Byron Webster as a corpulent British bureaucrat adds to the movie’s amusing campiness.

I did not like two scenes where women are mistreated, one scene in particular, which was brief and horrible. However, at least one of them gets just revenge on her perpetrator.

Apparently, Williamson was paid for two movies about Jefferson Bolt, with a plan for three to be made. Only this one was completed, however. I would have enjoyed seeing sequels with this fun, sexy character, all played by Williamson, of course. I plan to check out a few of his other action films he did in the 1970s.

It goes without saying that there continues to need to be more movie productions about likable, successful Black men and women. I’m glad Mr. Williamson, who is still alive at eighty-six years old, stepped in and played a Black action character, one who I found to be just as virile (if not more so), entertaining, and attractive as James Bond.

Mini Movie Review: THE NOTORIOUS BETTIE PAGE (2005)

Mary Harron’s THE NOTORIOUS BETTIE PAGE (2005), starring Gretchen Mol in the title role, is sweet and fun, if not a bit too short and superficial. Early on in the movie, there is a brief suggestion of sexual abuse by her father, but with no further elaboration or clarification. I didn’t know what to make of that.

Mol is excellent with the limited material she is given to work with, playing a wholesome Southern Christian while modeling for photos and short movies that were considered extremely racy at the time (1950-1957). Ms. Page was a more complex person in real life than how she is portrayed in THE NOTORIOUS BETTIE PAGE. But, the overall look of the movie and old music used for much of the soundtrack are fabulous. Mol manages to capture the cheerful, vibrant persona Bettie Page exuded through all of her pinup photos and kinky short movies, many of them about bondage.

The campy playfulness over what this cultural icon did for a living for seven years comes through as a main theme and vibe in this production. This is cleverly juxtaposed with the portrayal of overly earnest morality policing by assorted characters in the mainstream establishment. They come across as ridiculous and hypocritical. This movie was written, directed, and produced by women, who relay a warm reverence for Ms. Page throughout, even though historical accuracy about her actual life is skimmed over and likely changed in places.

Mini Movie Review: THE TALENTED MR. RIPLEY (1999)

THE TALENTED MR. RIPLEY (1999) is a well-done movie, which I had been meaning to see for the longest time. Only Jack Davenport’s character, who plays Tom Ripley’s eventual love interest, comes across as sympathetic to me. The rest of the main players are overly self absorbed spoiled brats, which the title character takes advantage of through his con artistry.

Matt Damon does an excellent job playing Ripley, a covert narcissist sociopath gay man in late 1950s NYC and Italy. There are moments of intense unease as he gallivants about in Rome and elsewhere in Italy, pretending to be someone else. The sepia tone lighting in places, period clothing and music, are effective in giving a vintage look and feel to the narrative, which grows increasingly disturbing towards a jarring climax.

Movie Review: ROAD HOUSE (1948)

I enjoy how a movie leads me to watching another particular one. Having recently seen 1989’s ROAD HOUSE, I decided to check out the 1948 film with that same title. That black and white classic only vaguely resembles the 1989 and 2024 (sort of) remakes. Like in the two newer movies, the central setting is a bar called the Road House and the leading man is the manager there. Otherwise, the story is completely different.

Ida Lupino plays Lily Stevens, a singer and pianist hired to perform each night at the Road House, located somewhere in Washington State, fifteen miles south of the Canadian border. Richard Widmark is excellent as Jefty, a controlling narcissist who owns the cocktail lounge. His longtime friend and manager of his bar, Pete Morgan (Wilde), and Lily fall in love. Jefty is filled with jealousy and rage. The movie is a great mix of melodrama and film noir, becoming more the latter during the final scenes. The psychological intrigue is powerful. I could feel the tension rise inside myself as Jefty’s instability increases.

Rather than the focus being on the bar manager’s lone wolf persona and his going up against tough gangsters, like in the 1989 and 2024 (sort of) remakes (though I haven’t seen the brand new one), the entire narrative here is about the love triangle. The economy of violence serves to deepen and/or somehow move the relationships between all of the players, particularly the two lovers, Lily and Pete.

Ida Lupino, with her sultry, husky voice, actually sings in the movie. Like the bar patrons watching and listening to her with rapt attention, I found her performance compelling. The sexual tension between Lily and Pete is moderately strong, their emotional bond stronger. Pete’s restraint never quite relaxes, while Lily’s natural allure and interest in him is confidently assertive from the start. However, the arc of the narrative affirms this dynamic. Wilde’s Pete is loyal, absent of any family connections, and very insecure. His far more privileged friend Jefty takes advantage of these attributes, like narcissists always do, and most certainly antisocial/malignant ones like him.

ROAD HOUSE is a tightly done film with very effective psychological drama and suspense. Some may find it lacking in “action,” particularly if they compare it to either or both of the more recent productions with the same title. The comparison is really an apples and oranges one.

Mini Movie Review: JUNGLE BOOK (1942)

After decades of avoiding it, I finally watched JUNGLE BOOK (1942), starring cult icon Sabu. The very beginning, though necessary for the flash back set up for the narrative, feels pat and sluggish. However, as soon as Sabu shows up, the energy shifts to a focused momentum. In all of the movies I’ve seen this actor in, he always has such a vibrant screen presence. Here, Sabu, himself of full Indian heritage, plays Mowgli (Little Frog), who, as a toddler, is adopted and raised by wolves somewhere in the Indian jungle.

The outdoor settings are lush, including the sets of an ancient city covered in vines and other plants. This is a beautifully done Technicolor production, even with a few awkwardly moving fake snakes with whom Sabu interacts. These moments are all part of the playful sense of theater presented up on screen. And the trained wild animals are all beautiful in their own right, such as a black leopard and several Indian elephants. (Fortunately these days, CGI continues to improve so wild animals can be peacefully left out of movies more often.)

Alexander Korda, who produced the wonderful THE THIEF OF BAGDAD (1940), which also stars Sabu, again transports us viewers into a fantastical world in JUNGLE BOOK. And he does so with no off camera, added in special effects, relying only on good acting by a large cast, exquisite cinematography, and excellent sets. Fun stuff.

Movie Review: Tribute to ARABIAN NIGHTS, ALI BABA AND THE FORTY THIEVES, COBRA WOMAN, WHITE SAVAGE, GYPSY WILDCAT, and SUDAN, All Starring Maria Montez From 1942-1945

I recently enjoyed a Maria Montez screen fest over a three day period. I watched these six movies she made with Universal Pictures from 1942 to 1945, which was during the height of her stardom: ARABIAN NIGHTS, ALI BABA AND THE FORTY THIEVES, WHITE SAVAGE, GYPSY WILDCAT, SUDAN, and COBRA WOMAN. (From 1945 on, Yvonne DeCarlo would supplant her as Universal’s exotic looking screen beauty and leading woman star.) These are all fantastical fun, filled with lavish sets and costumes. Matte paintings used for sweeping landscapes are themselves impressive works of art in these films. No need for special effects, other than an occasional explosion in a few of the movies, including a volcanic eruption in COBRA WOMAN (made in 1943, but released in ‘44).

Three of these Technicolor spectacles costar the lovely Sabu and four feature the suave Turhan Bey. All of them star the mediocre but sufficiently handsome John Hall, five of them in which he plays the love interest for Montez’s character. The last one, SUDAN (1945), has Turhan Bey in this role, albeit sans any complete on-screen kiss between him and Ms. Montez, which I found puzzling and disappointing.

Maria Montez is either a princess or a queen in five of these productions, and a countess in one of them. The Dominican screen diva is fabulous in all, typecast as she was and much to her understandable dismay. These films are cult classics, the most well known probably being COBRA WOMAN, where she plays a princess who is also a high priestess. That is my favorite of the six, with ALI BABA AND THE FORTY THIEVES (1943, but released in early ‘44) and SUDAN being close seconds. Ms. Montez wears the most spectacular gowns in COBRA WOMAN and SUDAN, in which she portrays an ancient Egyptian queen. It is in the latter of the two that she seems to have the most costume changes, with one of her headdresses– appearing to involve gold lame– looking positively sublime. Then and there, the sensual Latina actress exudes both a sense of royalty and divinity.

These movies are a grand mix of theatricality and the cinematic, including some decent cinematography thrown in. With each one running less than ninety minutes long (five of them under eighty minutes), they’re all a fast moving blend of action, drama, and comic relief. For true cinemaphiles, such as myself, all six productions are visual delights, even though the scripts are pretty routine. But, one does not watch these for literary enrichment. They are colorful works of art with very high camp aesthetics, celebrations of spectacle. Long live the memories of Maria Montez, Sabu, and Turhan Bey in all their Technicolor glory.

Movie Review: TOM OF FINLAND (2017)

Right after watching A MOMENT IN THE REEDS, I viewed another Finnish independent movie production, TOM OF FINLAND, also released in 2017. I was impressed, moved, and admittedly relieved at how gay erotica artist Touko Laaksonen’s persona and life were thoughtfully portrayed. Seeing this fairly recent film was not only educational and enjoyable for me but elicited memories from when I was in my early and mid twenties.

It’s vague for me exactly when I first came across printed images by Mr. Laaksonen, far better known as Tom of Finland. It may have been as early as 1988, when I was still in college, though most certainly by around 1989, the year after I’d graduated. 1991 saw the publishing of the second of three retrospective books of his artwork. I certainly paged through new copies of that and his first retrospective book, published in 1988, on several occasions I happened to be in a local bookstore or one up a ways in San Francisco. The late ’80s were when I came out of the closet and began exploring my sexuality, thus rendering me extremely impressionable around Tom’s work. I think I owned either a postcard or magazine cut out of one of his drawings, letting go of it sometime during one of several moves for graduate school. Tom of Finland imagery pervaded my psyche. Even though I was not in the Leather scene and was a skinny young man, looking nothing at all like that Finnish artist’s hyper muscular, often leather clad hunks, I was very taken with their exaggerated, cartoonish mix of pretty and ultra masculine. Tom’s drawings portrayed an idyllic world of hot men sexually expressing themselves with each other in assorted places and situations, often in parks and bars. Even though and in spite of HIV/AIDS being in full swing by the time I’d started having sex with other men, the Finnish gay icon’s work affirmed my homoerotic desires, assuring me they were not only valid but also beautiful. A lot of gay men around me back then surely agreed. Even my psychotherapist at that time, a gay man in his mid thirties, acknowledged familiarity with and a respect for Tom of Finland during one of our sessions. If you were a gay or bi man, you likely knew of him. Tom’s work was a bold and welcome counterweight to so much homophobic judgment coming from assorted quarters in the world.

In late 1991 or early 1992, I watched at a local arthouse theater DADDY AND THE MUSCLE ACADEMY, a documentary on Mr. Laaksonen and his artwork. Among other things, I was pleased to find that he was quite slim in build, like me. We thin and sensitive men could imagine– specifically, fantasize about sexual freedom in the world– like any other gay or bi dude. But, Tom took this further by manifesting such fantasies and dreams of freedom and beauty on paper and, ultimately, up on screen, for me and so many others. His life came to an end in November of 1991 while mine felt like it had just begun. I was grateful back then, and remain so now, for Tom of Finland’s creative output, regardless of its arguably problematic extremes and paradoxical limitations of vision. Worthwhile art is often controversial, pointing out wonders, possibilities, and imperfections and/or challenges in life. This man’s art was and is thought provoking, not simply a turn on.

Watching TOM OF FINLAND the movie felt like a deepening of connection to, or a continuing of, a part of my own life history I just reviewed above. I resumed mentally connecting with this artist– or, I should more accurately say, with his work and certain values it expresses– I’ve long admired. I have no idea how historically accurate the screenplay is to the actual subject’s life, but I surmise that much of the narrative is true, even if, say, events were moved around, compressed, and/or embellished. The story begins during WW II, when Touko/Tom is a young man serving in Finland’s military. He begins to cruise for sex– or has long already been doing so– with other men during that time. Living in Helsinki after the war, he continues to often do so in a local park and a men’s restroom of a cocktail lounge. He draws sexualized pictures of soldiers and, later, civilian men he finds attractive. A recurring fantasy image of a tall, handsome man in leather pants, vest, and hat appears in Tom’s room now and then, showing us how the artist’s imagination is ever active. This is his specific version of the ideal man, which continues to influence gay culture, especially the Leather subculture, to this day, for better and for worse.

Seemingly sustained by cigarettes, drawing, and cruising, Tom eventually meets another attractive man (played by Lauri Tilkanen), a professional dancer, who becomes his life partner. They connect through, of all people, his sister, who is both devoted to Tom yet non-accepting of his being gay. Mr. Laaksonen’s sexual adventures and initial attempts to share his homoerotic art with others initially land him in dangerous situations in culturally conservative 1940s and 1950s Finland and Germany. But, he persists, eventually becoming known in the States through secret mail order sales of his art. Later, at least one gallery showing of his work occurs, as well as the publishing of his oeuvre in book form. We witness personal tragedies Tom faces, especially after he becomes a celebrity for 1970s and ’80s gay culture, particularly the Leather subculture.

The HIV/AIDS crisis is thoughtfully addressed without disaffirming Tom’s contribution to gay liberation and cultural identity. Life and death are constant themes in the narrative, with Tom plagued by guilt over an incident occurring when he was on active duty in WW II. Whether or not this actually happened, it makes for fascinating psychological drama. Actor Pekka Strang is excellent as the title character, looking the part similarly enough in height and lankiness, and sounding gruff voiced like him as well. With my having seen the earlier referenced documentary about Tom of Finland over thirty years ago, to me Mr. Strang effectively conveys the pensive, often sullen persona of the actual artist I remember watching up on screen during the last part of his life.

Other characters are eventually brought in with a balance of humor and respect, namely a young male couple who act as informal agents for Tom in the United States. They introduce him to the gay Leather scene in Los Angeles, possibly representing an amalgamation of several people in real life and, undoubtedly, over a longer period of time than what is shown in the movie. I felt a sense of relief and victory for Tom as he finally finds his niche. This is a man who lived with being marginalized and at constant risk of persecution for what would be the first half or so of his adult life. The movie is a mix of internal reflection (especially of flashbacks during the second World War), observation by an outsider of an often hostile world, and some occasional but beautiful cinematography of Finnish countryside. We viewers witness a man begin to “bloom” later in life (which I and others can directly relate to), him persisting at doing so with the help of his more emotionally open and expressive partner and some gay friends (including his commanding officer from his days as a soldier), all before Tom finally becomes (semi) famous. Anxious and traumatized from war and for being sexually nonconforming, Tom’s art consoles him, provides a language for him to connect with others, and gives him a sense of purpose. And Tom’s frequent cruising for sex is intimately and sensitively portrayed, something I can’t quite recall seeing before in a movie without some moralizing message implied or even directly attached. That unto itself elevates this production to another, higher level.

Regardless of historical accuracy, in overall tone TOM OF FINLAND is a well-rounded, nuanced portrayal of a complex, creative man in a historically fascinating and challenging time. The movie gracefully manages to explore some controversies– namely concerning the AIDS/HIV crisis– the artist’s work seemingly elicited or contributed to. It does so without diminishing or maligning Tom of Finland as a man, an artist, and affirming cultural-historical icon for many of us gay men.

Mini Movie Review: WILLARD (2003 remake)

I don’t have a lot to say about the 2003 reboot of the 1971 cheaply made horror movie WILLARD. Eccentric Crispin Glover hams it up in the title role in this offbeat, intentionally uber campy screenplay about rats, revenge, and social isolation. Willard befriends a certain rat in his old house among an ever growing colony of them. Creepy and often sordid, this psychological thriller centers on a beaten down man, surely on the autism spectrum, losing his already limited sanity. The theme music is darkly lush, enhancing and completing the film’s eerie yet humor-filled vibe.

This higher budget remake is amusingly, weirdly theatrical and, hence, not many people’s cup of tea. The acting by Glover, Jackie Burroughs, and R. Lee Ermey, the latter two playing Willard’s domineering mother and cruel boss, respectively, is intentionally old school melodramatic. The production is a nod to old style theater and early Hollywood movies. But, hey, this unabashed oddball at heart happens to like old style theater, early movies, and weirdness.