THOROUGHLY MIFFED - PART I: RETROTRACTIVE

Hi, and welcome back. Glad you rocked up!


So, you've read the prologue and now, I can absolutely hear you asking, "So what did you think of the films, man???" I appreciate your patience, and now begin, without further ado:


Well, okay, I lied right there. There shall be one last item of, uh, ado...


MIFF hosted four excellent retrospectives of films past, celebrating, respectively:
- George A. Romero
- Edward Yang
- the 40th anniversary of the Cannes Film Fest's Directors' Fortnight
and
- "Ozploitation", the golden-to-bronze age of rough-&-tumble genre films made in Australia in the 1970s & 80s, as brilliantly spotlighted in MIFF's Opening Night doco, NOT QUITE HOLLYWOOD.


As they're older flicks, and in a class of their own, I'm going to seperate my views on the retrospective screenings from the new films and documentaries... as if I were seeing them "out of competition", to adopt festival-speak.



As always, I'm ranking the films from Least Favourite/Most Despised to Favourite.


So, as the guy with the big smile says: "And heerrre weeee... GO."


THE RETROSPECTIVE SCREENINGS


9th - WR: MYSTERIES OF THE ORGANISM (1971)
My god. A more useful title for this early seventies counter-culture brainfart may be: "WTF: MYSTERIES OF THE ORGANISM". Basically this film purports to point out that the glorious ideal and promise of Communism has been ultimately defeated, over and over again, because it has been implemented and steered by repressed men who refuse to embrace the ideals of free love, thus denying them and their comrades the true liberation a Communist philosophy promises -- a worker should be free of body as well as free of mind and employer -- not to mention the mind-altering rush that the act of orgasm provides. Watching filmmaker/professional nutcase Dusan Makavejev stretch this premise out to 85 minutes is a hideous spectacle akin to a car crash, or a season with Richmond Football Club. It's a truly bizarre, vomitous melange of archive footage from sex therapist Wilhelm Reich's therapies, scratchy late-60s porn, and a stream-of-consciousness Stalinist propaganda rant/narrative from then-modern-day Yugoslavia, focusing on a woman falling in love with someone who she believes represents the ultimate Communist ideal... with ridiculously ghastly circumstances. I feel like I'm making it sound much, MUCH more interesting than it actually is -- need I add it's completely, utterly incoherent? I only had tremendous fun watching it because I had my great friend Latauro there to trade quips with, and completely surrendered to its inanity. I'll say nothing else, other than this:
I propose that more films should end with a shot of a smiling severed head singing communist hymns.


8th - DEAD END DRIVE-IN (1986)
The (relative) low point of a hugely enjoyable Ozploitation season (at least, the ones I saw), this 1986 actioner brings us yet another future-gone-south, with your bog-standard rampant unemployment and roving gangs of unruly, Punk-meets-New-Romantic youths. But this one throws up a genuinely interesting wrinkle: all unemployed youths are sequestered into sealed-off, fortified Drive-Ins, keeping this undesirable element entertained and appeased all day and all night long in these makeshift ghettos, from which there is no escape. Unfortunately, director Brian Trenchard-Smith (he of Aussie action opuses THE MAN FROM HONG KONG, BMX BANDITS and TURKEY SHOOT) casts a terrible, near-mincing lead whom it's impossible to really get behind, and overplays his hand with the social commentary, which is not nearly meaty, interesting, or well-acted enough to sustain us through the 73 minutes we spend waiting for some decent action, which he uncharacteristically delays before hurriedly stuffing it into the last 15 minutes of the picture. During this retrospective, I've discovered that Trenchard-Smith is actually a quite gifted director of action set pieces, and these final 15 minutes almost make the picture worth seeking out. As does Natalie (CHANCES) McCurry's topless scene, but I shan't dwell. One senses a much more raw, visceral picture was waiting to get out here and something -- a lack of budget, time, script rewrites, or all three -- got in the way. Disappointing.


7th - SPIDERBABY: DIRECTOR'S CUT (1968)
Hugely enjoyable, if extremely silly, horror comedy from Jack Hill, who would go on to be Pam Grier's pre-eminent director on such exploitation classics as THE BIG BIRD CAGE, COFFY and FOXY BROWN. The premise concerns a family of cannibal inbreds -- afflicted with a degenerative brain disease which ultimately devolves them to a primitive state -- who are forced to defend the family home against distant (non-inbred) relatives who want to take it over and reap the proceeds. From the cartoonish opening credits, the picture makes it clear it's here to play, and is constantly winking at the viewer, from hilarious reaction shots to smashingly unsubtle innuendo, even calling a character "Mr Schlocker". (I haven't even mentioned the two occasions we accidentally see a crew member reflected in shot.) It's an absolute scream, but therein lies my main beef with the film: with that concept and a vastly different treatment, it could've been a hideously frightening, TEXAS CHAINSAW-style horror picture, pregnant with social commentary. While the final product is undeniably fun, it did feel like a bit of a cop-out. But who can complain when you see a lanky bald inbred man (a young Sid Haig) getting around in Donald Duck-style sailor gear? Not me, that's for damn sure.


6th - JACK'S WIFE (aka SEASON OF THE WITCH) (1972)
After hitting it huge with his seismic, genre-defining debut NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD, then bottoming out just as quickly with the misconcieved rom-com/advertising satire THERE'S ALWAYS VANILLA, writer-director George A Romero returned to the horror genre (of sorts) with this, a Women's Liberation parable disguised as a flick about a witch-in-development. The titular woman, Joan, feeling increasingly marginalised by her husband, hears about a local witches' coven and decides to check it out, firstly out of curiosity, then becoming increasingly seduced by the occult as a way to reclaim her life and slay her demons, as the rites of witchcraft actually unleashes her own dormant strength, leading to a horrifying, if ultimately liberating, conclusion. Romero shot this for about $90,000 and it looks it, but there's some brilliant ideas here, as well as some genuinely creepy and/or interesting scenes, and the performances aren't nearly as shoddy as one has been led to believe. Romero himself wasn't rapt in it and has publicly stated a desire to remake it, but I feel it's such a product of its time that this would be a mistake... and, you know what: considering the circumstances, it's really quite good.


5th - TURKEY SHOOT (1982)
Arguably the trashiest multimillion dollar (well, $2.8 million) picture ever produced in this country, it promises action, blood, gore, car chases, explosions, nuttiness, nudity and even a hint of social comment... and actually delivers on all scores! Bizarre in the utmost, chock-a-block with wacked-out digressions, crass innuendo and senseless mayhem, this is one of those glorious exploitation films which sets up its premise, leads us in with some measure of intrigue, then just gets on with the business of blasting the screen to bits with all the good stuff until a spectacular conclusion... okay, we don't quite get the spectacular conclusion -- the money fell through at the last minute, and you can tell -- but after half an hour of fun plot shenanigans, we get a solid hour of pure action, which, under the auspices of Ozploitation recidivist Brian Trenchard-Smith, is thrillingly shot and brilliantly paced (even if the makeup effects are somewhat dodgy). You get the big bald dude from MAD MAX belting anyone who gets in his way -- men, women, children, the dude don't care -- to a pulp, a bizarro ape-wolf-man who fights like a pro-wrestler and repeated shots of a wet-jumpsuited Lynda Stoner running... what more do ya want???


4th - FOX AND HIS FRIENDS (1975)
A scathing portrayal of then-modern-day Germany, featuring iconoclastic writer-director Rainer Werner Fassbinder also assaying the lead role as Franz "Fox" Biberkopf, a sweet but none-too-bright gay man whose living as a carny/carnival attraction -- a talking disembodied head (fake, of course) -- is interrupted from the opening scene, as the carnival he's with is broken up by police, leaving Fox at a loose end, prostituting himself to rich men for cash. But, as he does every week, Fox buys a lottery ticket, with his usual confidence that this time he'll win for sure... which is vindicated when he actually does, and is the proud owner of half a million marks. All his dreams should come true from here, but instead we follow him as everyone he comes into contact with takes advantage of him, not least a rich young factory heir he falls for, only to be subjected and dominated by all manner of the heir's passive-aggressive behaviour. Fassbinder is extremely engaging as the nice-guy naif Fox, and you really feel for the guy while wishing he would wake up to himself and leave this nest of condescending parasites behind. The director's flair for melodrama is on display, for sure, the picture's narrative meanders and it's at least 20 minutes too long, but there's some beautifully subtle scenes which blend in seamlessly and don't lack for power. This film says a lot about mid-70s Germany's exploitation and lack of respect for those on society's fringes, probably much more than my extremely limited knowledge of the period can attest to, but the points I could pick up come through powerfully.


3rd (Bronze) - KNIGHTRIDERS (1981)
Emerging from the 1970s and having come off his biggest hit to date, DAWN OF THE DEAD, George A. Romero set about moving away from horror briefly, to make this. A self-proclaimed "passion project", it's a tale about a travelling medieval-themed commune of armour-clad knights on motorcycles who hold jousting tournaments to make a living... but, as with all of Romero's pictures, there is a bigger theme at work, and this nomadic band of Knightriders -- an idealistic shot at a modern-day Camelot -- is a way for the writer-director to address some of his pet issues: rampant capitalism swamping all other values, society's descent into fast-food culture, people's willingness to sell out to the almighty dollar and the everyday struggle of decent people to maintain their core values. This last point is embodied by Bill Davis (an early Ed Harris, who's customarily fabulous and gives the film a rock-solid centre), the self-styled King of this particular round table, who throws his heart and soul into setting the tone for this idealistic kingdom, and so rigidly adheres to the Arthurian code that he lashes himself every morning. His philosophical opposite number is Morgan (makeup maestro and occasional actor Tom Savini, who's terrific), an opportunist who feels the group could be bigger, better and more sustainable with backing from managers and promoters. As Morgan says, he was always "more into the bikes" than the code. Watching these two forces collide and ultimately threaten to split the tight-knit community down the middle is the spine of the picture, but the characters are what really surprise. Generally, Romero has been known to value Big Ideas, social commentary and set pieces over character development or performance, but, refreshingly, the characters in this film are quite well-drawn -- wonderful, fallible and refreshingly human. Oh, and don't worry, all the other stuff's in there, too, in spades. The armoured-up knights on motorbikes make for an amazing visual, and the jousting sequences feature some of the most amazing stuntwork you'll ever see. Weighing in at a hefty 145 minutes, the film does feel somewhat overlong, but with such a large cast of characters, most of whom are treated with genuine respect, there is quite a bit of world-building going on here. Sure, some of it has dated and it's all very sincere and peace-love-and-mungbeans, but that's part of its charm, and, with the terrific action scenes and frequently bang-on humour, that charm proves to be massive. A real surprise packet.


2nd (Silver) - ROADGAMES (1981)
And while we're on about surprises... we come to one of the biggest of the festival. The Ozploitation retrospective (and NOT QUITE HOLLYWOOD) promised lots of rough-and-ready, crass and trashy flicks about blokes, ockers, sheilas, punch-ups and norgs... which is cool by me, but when an Ozploitation film comes along that isn't any of those at all... a viewer has a right to feel surprised. Not to mention thrilled, particularly when that movie is more intelligent, visceral, suspenseful and thoroughly entertaining than all the others on display. ROADGAMES comes from two of the pre-eminent minds of 70s-80s Aussie genre cinema -- crack US ex-pat screenwriter Everett De Roche and Oz-born-&-bred director/Hitchcock protege Richard Franklin -- and proves to be a near-perfect melding of their sensibilities. In fact, Franklin's Hitchcock influence is all over it, in the best possible way. Tight, constantly engaging, gloriously suspenseful and featuring magnetically charming performances from its American leads, Stacy Keach (where the hell did this guy's career go? He's flat-out awesome in this) and Jamie Lee Curtis. I've heard it described as "REAR WINDOW in a truck" and, while that's not far wrong, it sells this flick short a bit, because ROADGAMES is definitely its own film. It's a hell of a lot of fun, and not once do you feel compelled to apologise for it.


1st (Gold) - MAD MAX 2: THE ROAD WARRIOR (1981)
Well, it's MAD MAX 2, isn't it? Is there anything more to say? Okay, here's one thing I have to confess: I actually enjoyed ROADGAMES as much as this. However, for the sheer invention, brilliant ideas and building the genre-defining world on display, you have to give Max the points. Gibson is iconic, Bruce Spence as the opportunistic Gyro is brilliant and those fetish-clad bad guys... The Humongous and crazy-arse Vernon Wells (who would later entertain us as Bennett, the similarly campy nemesis to Schwarzenegger in COMMANDO) as Wez... hilarious and badass, all at once. The car chases and stunts are beyond compare (matched only by the first MAD MAX), particularly with the budget on offer. But what really put this session over the top for me, was the terrific Q&A bookends with big-time movie star and MAD MAX superfan Eric Bana. He was so into the film, it was positively infectious. What's more, he didn't slavishly prize this film above the first like so many fans and critics, admitting he couldn't split them, which gave him a tick in my book (I like the first one a little more, truth be told... it feels more visceral and personal, more immediate... but only just). His answers were so charming, self-effacing and down-to-earth, he was a pleasure to listen to. Not to mention the fact that, despite having seen the film somewhere between 50-100 times on video over the years, he'd never seen it on the big screen in 35mm, and his inability to hide his utter glee at doing so after the flick was done, just made it feel like a real communal experience. Eric Bana, several hundred people, two of my closest friends and I all rediscovered this classic film, together, at the same time. We had a collective moment and dug the living hell out of it... and isn't that what film festivals are all about?


Whew! And that's only part one! Tune in soon, when I get started ranking the 49 new features, docus and short programs, from the 10 worst... You know you want to.


MIFF Tragics unite!!!


TSIK