Report from Noir City 2014 - Part V

Alright then...Though the Noir City Festival isn't quite over yet, my wife and I are back home. We couldn't stay for the entire week and a half of the festival, so we found two nice ladies to pass our passes off to, and we hopped back on Amtrak to head home. Though I'm sorry to not to be seeing some of the films in the days we'll miss, it's good to be home.

The festival itself was unique and enjoyable overall, and I'm certainly glad we went. I will give detailed reviews of some of the films in later posts, to try and give you an idea of what the festival had to offer.



As stated in earlier posts, my disappointments with the experience as a whole had little to do with the films chosen, and everything to do with the way things were run. I've already talked about how the too-lengthy introductions often were filled with filler, and did nothing but stretch time to the breaking point. Our last night there, we skipped the second film of the evening (which we had already seen, but not on the big screen), because we knew, after a week's worth of experience, that between the intros and the slightly longer running times of the two movies that night, it would have meant that we'd have missed our last bus home if we'd stayed.

So, please, noir folks, rein in your urge to talk and talk and talk. Less really, really is more - as in, more time for the actual films. Also, showing commercials for some Australian noir comedy web series might have seemed like a good or amusing idea, but as a paying customer, I'm here to tell you it added nothing positive to the experience. We bought full passes to see movies, not commercials.

On the plus side, I do appreciate the purist approach in terms of showing the films on film whenever possible. Film is different from video, and film is better than video. Out of over two dozen films in the festival, apparently only two were scheduled to be shown on video - and only then because there was no other way to show them. Having once had my own film series, and having dealt with the many and varied problems that can come up with securing prints of American-made films, I have a great appreciation for the efforts that went into finding and shipping prints of the many older foreign films shown this year.



And speaking of older foreign films...Perhaps I'm naïve, but I have an image of the audience for such films. Given their age, and their non-domestic provenance, I envision the audience for them as being more intelligent, more refined, more cultured, than the average American movie audience. But that image was most surely tested during this festival, when day after day we witnessed these supposedly refined and cultured people trashing the historic theater we were all inhabiting. Judging from the great mountains of popcorn that often littered the floor, many members of the audience had great difficulty getting their popcorn from the bag to their mouth without major spillage. And given that almost everyone just walked out of the theater without taking their popcorn bags (or cups or wrappers) with them, it seems like an awful lot of people in San Francisco are very used to having "someone else" clean up after them. (Did anyone else other than my wife and I notice the nice Latina lady cleaning up the theater after, say, Border Incident? Somehow I don't think so.)

Though I was never a Boy Scout, I have always followed their rule for camping - leave the site better than you found it - when it comes to going to the movies. If you packed it in, people, then pack it out. To do any less is shameful and rude.

But it's entirely possible the audience was simply reflecting current San Francisco norms and mores. The city is clearly awash in money, with lots of construction and gentrification occurring at a rapid pace. Downtown and Market Street are taller than ever before. The private (and controversial) Google Buses were a regular sight. And where there used to be coffee shops and record stores everywhere, they have now been greatly pushed out by expensive bars and even more expensive day spas and salons. So yeah, it's entirely believable that a lot of people attending Noir City 2014 were well-to-do and used to letting-someone-else-do-it. If so, how nice for them. But still, despite the obvious and unmistakable influx of tech money into San Francisco, never before has the entire city smelled so much of urine to me. I mean everywhere. It doesn't make for a particularly film noir experience, but it sure does smell bleak.



Anyway, despite the current flush of big tech money into town, it was barely on display at the festival itself. The crowd was very much an older crowd (present company included), with those who looked under, say, thirty being a very small minority. I can count the number of actual kids I saw there on the fingers of one hand.

So, in terms of longevity, I don't know that the prognosis for Noir City is very good. Without efforts to engage newer, younger audience members, I don't know if there will be a Noir City in ten years. Can San Francisco still be the Noir City once it's all lit up with bright cash and splash? And can old movies on a big screen attract a younger audience that's used to watching whatever's new, new, new on a screen the size of a postage stamp?

I don't pretend to know the answer to these questions. But as someone who was born in San Francisco, and has always viewed it as a cinema-centric place, I will be interested to see how things play out.

Report from Noir City 2014 - Part IV

Opening night of the festival, there was a rumor running through the crowd that Jack Black was there. His supposed presence made no sense to me, and no Jack Black was seen.

But tonight, I did spot a familiar face in the crowd before the first show. I wondered, "Is that..?"   

So I ventured over and said, "Johnny?" And sure enough, Johnny Legend it was. Johnny Legend...the inspiring rockabilly singer. Johnny Legend...the co-writer and director of the cult film My Breakfast with Blassie (1983) that starred Andy Kaufman and wrestler Freddy Blassie. Johnny Legend...whom you may have seen as "Skinny Corpse" in 1989's Bride of Re-Animator. Johnny Legend...all-around talented and offbeat guy, not to be confused with the boring singer John Legend. Yes, it was the real Johnny Legend standing there in the lobby of the Castro Theatre tonight. 

When I lived in San Francisco years ago, I saw Johnny and his Rockabilly Bastards play many, many times. The crowds would always dress in 1950s era clothes (much like many in the audience here are dressed in period clothes), and there would always be some truly acrobatic and talented dancers in attendance, hurling each other around. 

One of the best nights I ever had out was when Johnny Legend played the DNA Lounge. The evening started with a showing of the obscure 1968 movie, The Monster and the Stripper, which starred singer Sleepy LaBeef as "The Swamp Thing." Then a great local rockabilly group called the Honky Tonk Angels played. (I can still recall the song "Never No More.") Then Johnny acted as referee in a Mexican style monster wrestling match. And then, to cap the evening off, Johnny and his band played a smoking hot set (featuring special guest vocalist Tony Conn) with old sci-fi and monster movies clips projected behind them. Best of all, the entire evening was free, because the DNA was trying to compete with a sold-out Mudhoney show next door. 

So, it was nice to have an honest-to-goodness celebrity sighting at the film festival, and it was great to be able to personally thank Mr. Johnny Legend for the many times I've enjoyed his performances. He was gracious, we chatted for a minute, and then he hit the snack bar.

As for the movies tonight, one from Spain and one from Norway, they were both winners. As with the others, more to come in a few days...

Report from Noir City 2014 - Part III

File under general thoughts and observations...Overall I've enjoyed the films I've seen thus far, though I would say that not all of them are actually film noir. But they have been interesting and engaging, so I'm not complaining. 

Compensating for the lack of a full-on noir effect at the festival, we've had a nicely noir (is that possible?) trip to San Francisco. Given that films noir generally deal with crime and death in some way, we've been with the program from the start. We're staying with a friend who works in the morgue (I'm writing this while sitting in her living room underneath her embalmer's license from the State of California), and when we arrived at her place, the nearest intersecting street was blocked off by police cars. Ah, yes, we're getting in the spirit of things. 

Today, we're heading into day five of the festival here, and some patterns have emerged that I think should be noted. Maybe some of the folks putting on the festival will see these notes, and take them to heart. 

First and foremost among my observations, and annoyances, frankly, is the way the noir folks just let time slip away from them. Allow me to explain. Now, perhaps I'm being old-fashioned about seeing these old movies, but, in my world the published start time for a movie is meant to indicate the time the movie will start. 

But here it has meant that you still have five or ten minutes to wait for someone to come out to introduce the film. Said introductions have been running around 10 to 15 minutes each, with a lot of that time being eaten up by descriptions of, and come-ons for, the film we're just about to see. I mean, the shows have all been sold out, the theater is full, we're all here already. This means, noir folks, you don't need to waste our time trying to sell the film to us. We're here, we're ready, and you're actually standing between us and the movies. Less is more, people.

Saturday was the worst case of this, with a full five movies on the schedule. The last movie of the day was scheduled to start at 9:30PM, but didn't start until 10:15PM. Seeing five movies makes for a long day no matter what; adding nearly an hour to that doesn't add anything to the film festival experience except annoyance. Especially for those of us who start getting worried that we might miss the last bus back to our beds. 

Also, Eddie Muller, Mr. Noir, has displayed a disappointing casual sexism whenever this year's Miss Noir has shared the stage with him. Last night, he made at least two comments about her that clearly made her uncomfortable, and I think made members of the audience squirm a little, too. Yeah, Eddie, she's an attractive, (much) younger woman in a form-fitting dress - but that doesn't mean she's just an object. Grow up.

On a related note, every single time - and I do mean every single time - that someone from the Film Noir Foundation has been on the stage to speak, they've made jokes about drinking, comments to encourage the audience to drink, etc. Yeah, I know I sound like a real prude but, come on. For one thing, it shows a lack of creativity, and gets old really fast. For another, I have no doubt that there are film noir fans in the audience who are struggling with addictions and/or recovery and who don't appreciate this kind of would-be hipster "humor."

Anyway, please don't take these comments to mean that the actual celluloid content of the festival hasn't been good - it has. And I will expound on that later in detail. But I just felt I needed to give a little taste of the off screen portion of the festival as well. As stated above, I'd hope that the festival folks will rein in some of these...issues next time, to make for a smoother, more enjoyable experience for everyone attending. (It would also help if they could add about a dozen restrooms to the Castro, but...)

Report from Noir City 2014 - Part II

Day two of the festival was a south of the border whirlwind consisting of five films - four of which were shot in and/or set in Mexico. The two films from Mexico - In the Palm of Your Hand (1951) and Victims of Sin (also 1951) - were noteworthy and then some, and both contained some audacious moments that I will attempt to do justice to in a later, longer posting. 

But perhaps the big event of the day was the public debut of the newly restored, hasn't-been-seen-in-decades version of 1949's Too Late for Tears, starring those film noir royals Lizabeth Scott and Dan Duryea. This too warrants a longer, more in-depth write up, one that will have to wait until later, as we're still in the thick of the festival, and time is at a premium. 

One quick story though...We wound up having a young woman who was visiting San Francisco from China sit next to us during Too Late for Tears. She was just in the city for a day, and, somehow, happened to wander into the Castro to see the evening show. In talking to her, she explained that in China, they don't ever show old movies, and she has never seen any old American films either. So her first exposure to any sort of classic film was watching Dan Duryea and Lizabeth Scott lie, cross and double-cross each other for nearly two hours. 

After that, I guess she'd absorbed all the new-old media she could take. Though she had said that she was planning to stay for the evening's second feature, a new, restored print of The Hitch-Hiker (1953), she excused herself after Too Late for Tears and headed back to her hotel. 

Maybe Dan Duryea doesn't make such a good international ambassador? 

Report from Noir City 2014

The first night of the Noir City 2014 film festival in San Francisco...And our visit is off to a pretty good start.

Spent the day wandering around Chinatown, where I found some very interesting DVDs that I'm excited about (more on those later, I'm sure). Went by Lucky Creation Restaurant, a place I've been going for something like 25 years, though it's been years since I've been there. Still, just walking by, one of the waitresses there recognized me through the door, and came to say hello and shake my hand, which was pretty heartwarming and unprecedented. She looks like she's aged about six months in the last 25 years - amazing.

We also went by the three - former - movie theaters in Chinatown. The Great Star, which was the main stem of Hong Kong movie viewing back in the 90s, is still closed, but at least there's now a sign out front with a phone number so if someone wants to rent the theater...Of the other two former Chinese theaters, one is still closed, and the other has been torn down. It's always sad to see a closed movie theater. Given the use-specific design of them, they're hard to repurpose, so they either sit vacant or get torn down. 

Anyway, we got to the very much thriving and alive Castro Theater a little after 6PM, and there was already a line up the block of people hoping to buy tickets. Since we had a pass, we went right in, and got our seats - dead center - right away. The Castro is such a beautiful theater. It's always a real treat to be there, and last night it was especially abuzz with energy and excitement - much of it coming from guys in period suits and dames all dolled up. 

Around 6:30PM, the entertainment started when the Fly Right Sisters, a vocal trio, came out to sing songs from the 40s and 50s. What was cute and charming for 3 or 4 songs got to be a real drag after 30 or 40 minutes. Oh well. 

Then, my favorite part of seeing films at the Castro kicked in, when organist David Hegarty came rising up out of the pit playing the mighty Castro organ. More than a sound you hear, the Castro organ literally vibrates your whole body, and, at least in me, produces something close to a euphoric feeling. Hegarty played four or five songs, finishing with a spirited version of San Francisco, and got everyone clapping and, being that it was 7:30PM - showtime! - ready for the movies to roll. 

But no movies rolled. Instead, San Francisco's Mr. Noir, Eddie Muller rolled out onto stage and talked for 20 minutes. He also introduced Ms. Noir 2014, who was lovely, but then just had to stand there while Eddie gabbed. It could have been a lot shorter, a lot cleaner, Eddie. 
And so, finally, at 7:50PM, the lights went down and Journey Into Fear (1943) started. It's a slight, short film, with a troubled pedigree, but it's fast and fun. I would argue that it's not even film noir, and the way the sell-out crowd was laughing at parts, it played more like comedy. 

Still, what's the difference? We were in a grand movie theater, part of a huge, excited crowd, seeing a classic film on the big screen. What's not to like? 

We ended the evening tired, but happy. And now, we're off to see five more movies today and tonight. It should be a great day. 

 

HERCULES AGAINST THE MOON MEN (1964) – A Review
 

AKA: MACISTE E LA REGINA DI SAMAR

 

For a variety of reasons, American movie goers in the 1960s got to be very familiar with characters like Hercules and Maciste. The number of films produced by American studios dropped greatly after the (for the movie business) boom years of World War II. But the number of theaters in the U.S. didn’t drop in similar numbers, which left many theaters, especially smaller and second-run theaters, scrambling for product to show.

At the same time, several European countries, trying to rebuild their film and other economies, put limits on the amounts of money American studios could take out of their countries. This led to an increase in American dollars being invested in producing and/or distributing films from those countries – it was one method, in a roundabout way, to try and get your money back to the U.S.

Also, some of those same countries were offering big tax breaks to encourage domestic film production, so in many European countries it became very inexpensive to produce films – films that would still have high production values. One of those countries was Italy, which, at the time, was also one of the four or five biggest film markets in the world.

With all these factors twining together, by the early 60s the floodgates had opened, and it was “Hello, Hercules!” at a great many American theaters. (There was also a corresponding flood of similar movies going straight to TV in the U.S. in the same period, which tells you how many of these type of movies were being produced.)

And so we come to Hercules Against the Moon Men. I tried to watch this as though I was a kid in the 60s seeing it in a theater, all hopped up on soda and candy. (Full disclosure: No candy or soda was actually consumed while I watched this.) From that perspective, I think that this film, more so than a lot of similar films from the same period, delivered the goods.

Does Hercules engage in feats of great strength? Yes he does. He hefts and tosses dead trees, smashes through walls, and bends iron bars. Does Hercules face certain death? Yes he does. There are numerous hand-to-Herc combats, and one awesome spiked death trap. Are there monsters? Yes there are. There are giant (and slow and stilted) rock monsters, and a sabre-toothed ape creature.

 

 

Cutting to the chase, are there Moon Men? Well, yes, technically. The real villain of the film is the evil Queen Samara (Jany Clair), who is exploiting her own people and working in cahoots with the Moon Men, who have a base inside the Mountain of Death. Still, there are Moon Men, so…

 

 

Poor Hercules (played by Sergio Ciani, but billed As “Alan Steel” in the U.S.) is kept busy pretty much from the moment he arrives in the city of Samar. After a certain point, it became humorous how much the terrorized locals were depending on Hercules. There’s scene after scene of them going to him for help, and, being the good guy he is, Hercules is always ready to lend a hand. At one point he even seems to be helping the evil Queen Samara, but of course, he’s just pretending to get information he needs to help the people of Samar.

On the other hand, there’s not much that can help the functional-but-that’s-all dubbed dialogue. It consists mostly of lines like, “Come on! Let’s storm the palace!” or “Hurry! To the Mountain of Death!” Not inspiring, but it keeps things moving for the most part.

Though this may not be the most intellectual of entertainments, it does seem to contain something for almost everyone. As explained above, there are monsters and battles for the kids. If Dad had happened to come along for the show, he’d probably enjoy the shapely female residents of Samar. If Mom came along, well, there were at least three or four tight close-ups of Ciani/Steel’s shapely and always well-oiled pecs, not to mention his biceps, etc.



It may not be a “real” piece of mythology, but as a piece of flashy, fun cinematic history, I personally think this Hercules is pretty good. And I’m sure it’d be even better with some candy and soda.

 

HIGH SCHOOL BIG SHOT (1959) – A Review

My wife and I have been getting ready to go to the Film Noir Festival in San Francisco by watching movies set and shot in San Francisco – including Dirty Harry (1971), The Conversation (1974) and Zodiac (2004). Without even including The Sniper (1952) and The Lineup (1958), it sure seems like SF is a great city to get murdered in, eh?

Anyway, we’ve also been taking some controlled, appetizer-like doses of noir films, so I introduced my wife to a rough little gem she had never seen. Said gem is High School Big Shot, a film that, thankfully, does not live up to its title. Unlike films with remarkably similar titles from that period – like High School Confidential! (1958), High School Hellcats (1958), High School Caesar (1960), etc. – HSBS tells a story that doesn’t focus on school at all, though the lead character, Marv Grant (Tom Pittman) is a high school student. But the majority of the film takes place away from the school, and it’s really a fairly tight little crime picture with a somewhat misleading title.

Marv, whose father is a no-good drunk, is hooked on Betty (Virginia Aldridge). But Betty has her sights set on landing a guy with lots of dough, which leaves poor Marv on the outs. Marv thinks he hears opportunity knocking when he overhears his boss at the warehouse planning a big buy of heroin, with said deal requiring a million bucks to be – briefly – placed in the safe in the warehouse. So Marv finds some help to crack the safe and score the cash. Meanwhile, Marv’s told Betty his plans, and she in turn tells her caveman boyfriend about the deal – and he and his pals plan to rob the robbers after they empty out the safe. It all ends with a lot of gunfire and more characters dying than not.

 

 

So yeah, the title isn’t so accurate, and yeah, the actors playing high school students are well past their teens. But, other than that, I think this is a solid little crime picture that should satisfy crime and noir fans quite well. The plot is simple, but engaging. There are some familiar character actors sprinkled throughout the cast (Byron Foulger, Malcolm Atterbury, Stanley Adams). The lead, Tom Pittman, is a suitable noir-type fall guy undone by a dame. And the ending is certainly pretty bleak. What’s not to like?

Postscript: In a sadly noir-like ending in real life, Pittman, who some were touting as the “next” James Dean, died in a car crash on Halloween in 1958. So this film, his first leading role, was released posthumously not quite a year later. He was 26 years old.