Only now does it occur to me... THE MIRACLE WORKER

Only now does it occur to me...  that the nearly nine-minute knock-down drag-out brawl between Annie Sullivan and Helen Keller (as the former attempts to pierce the abyss and teach the latter table manners) is probably the most brutal, drawn-out skirmish between stubborn personalities... until the spectacular six-minute fistfight from THEY LIVE.

The scenes are both so brilliantly blocked, staged, and acted (in THE MIRACLE WORKER, Anne Bancroft and Patty Duke directed by Arthur Penn; in THEY LIVE, "Rowdy" Roddy Piper and Keith David directed by John Carpenter) that they really stick out in one's mind as special, a beautiful fusion of stage and screen sensibilities.


The actors are permitted to reach into a deeply primal well as the scene is simplified and streamlined into two visceral, battling motivations:  "Eat with a utensil" & "I refuse!", and "Put on the glasses!" & "No!," respectively.


In each case, words take a back seat to action, and the result is raw, powerful, and riveting.  The scenes' length plays a role, too: as the characters clash beyond the point of reason and into pure obstinance/force of will, a dark humor emerges that somehow only intensifies the scene.  I think any director or actor should find a lot to learn here.

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Only now does it occur to me... MARKED FOR DEATH

Only now does it occur to me... that prior to Danny Trejo hunting Steven Seagal in MACHETE, Steven Seagal chased Danny Trejo:



 and all the way to a showdown at the Club 'Tecate!'


In a more general sense, MARKED FOR DEATH (from Dwight H. Little, the director of HALLOWEEN 4 and FREE WILLY 2) is not quite a classic in this gentle-voiced, ponytail'd lunatic's oeuvre (like OUT FOR JUSTICE), but it's pretty damned enjoyable, notably because of the terrific Keith David (THE THING, THEY LIVE) as Seagal's crazy-eyed sidekick.

Keith David:  having none of your bullshit.

The film has a strange sensibility to it that's worth mentioning, too–  despite the presence of Cannon Films-style, hastily-sketched Rastafarian voodoo-luvin', crack-dealin' villains, the action scenes play out with a peculiar, humorless detachment (I daresay realism) that is reminiscent of Michael Mann's meticulous, paramilitary setpieces (i.e., in THIEF and HEAT).

Like its star, the film takes itself a little too seriously, but MARKED FOR DEATH is well worth a view for the early 90s action fan– and for you camp-lovers, it even boasts a finale whereupon the villain is sliced, stabbed, eye-gouged, spine-shattered, flung down an elevator shaft, and then impaled upon a steel rod: Seagal is nothing if not thorough.

-Sean Gill

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Film Review: THE THING (1982, John Carpenter)

Stars: 6+ of 5.
Running Time: 109 minutes.
Tag-line: "Man is The Warmest Place to Hide."
Notable Cast or Crew: Kurt Russell. Wilford Brimley (EWOKS: THE BATTLE FOR ENDOR, THE FIRM, BORDERLINE), Keith David (THEY LIVE, MEN AT WORK, MISTER ROGERS' NEIGHBORHOOD), Donald Moffat (CLEAR & PRESENT DANGER, TALES OF THE CITY, ALAMO BAY), Richard Masur (MY SCIENCE PROJECT, RENT-A-COP, LICENSE TO DRIVE, STEPHEN KING'S IT), Richard Dysart (PALE RIDER, THE HOSPITAL), Charles Hallahan (FATAL BEAUTY, BODY OF EVIDENCE, VISION QUEST), Peter Maloney (MANHUNTER, JFK), Joel Polis (FATAL VISION, CHEERS), David Clennon (STAR 80, THE FABULOUS STAINS), T.K. Carter (RUNAWAY TRAIN, DOCTOR DETROIT, JEM AND THE HOLOGRAMS), Thomas G. Waites (THE WARRIORS, MCBAIN). Music by Ennio Morricone. Special effects by Rob Bottin (ROBOCOP, TOTAL RECALL), dog creature by Stan Winston. Cinematography by Dean Cundey (WHO FRAMED ROGER RABBIT?, ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK, JURASSIC PARK, BACK TO THE FUTURE, ROAD HOUSE, D.C. CAB)- Sven Nykvist, eat your heart out. Screenplay by Bill Lancaster, son of Burt.
Best one-liner: "I know you gentlemen have been through a lot, but when you find the time, I'd rather not spend the rest of this winter TIED TO THIS FUCKING COUCH!"

Well, apparently, this is the 500th post here at Junta Juleil. Since we've been discussing effective horror remakes versus the muttonheaded ones this week, I wouldn't want to use it to discuss anything besides... THE THING.

Now, if you're one of those unfortunate souls who has never seen THE THING (I'm continually surprised by how many people, even self-proclaimed cinephiles, haven't seen it), stop reading immediately. And don't resume doing whatever you were doing before you started reading this- put on some shoes. Leave your work/school/home behind. Tell them you're going to lunch, or have a medical emergency. Head to the nearest liquor store. You're going to need some J&B. It's not the best scotch on the planet, in fact, it's not even really a scotch (it's a blend), but Kurt Russell seems to like it just fine, so just shut it.

Also, the taste of Coors and a good friend always last.

Now you'll need to procure a copy of THE THING. It shouldn't be that hard. It should be easier than getting copies of THE LETTER PEOPLE or HEAVENLY BODIES or BLACK ICE, starring Michael Ironside and Michael Nouri. Also, it's not essential, but if you could get one of these hats before you watch it:

that'd be great, too. Now, watch THE THING, and report back to me immediately. But just in case you're the sort of pantywaist who won't abide by my instructions, I'm not going to give away any major plot developments in this review. Onto the THE THING:

A breakthrough film for John Carpenter. The son finally tops the father- Carpy breaks through and outdoes the Howard Hawks original with this inimitable paranoid masterpiece. It's horror/sci-fi/thriller perfection. It's so evocative you can taste the stinging J&B tempered by Mac's frosty breath, sense the icy dread of the desolate, labyrinthine corridors, 'hear' the resonance of the overpowering silences, and feel the foreboding throb of the Morricone score.

The less the uninitiated knows, the better. This is the 'Red Scare' paranoia film taken through a goddamn meat grinder. Rob Bottin's special effects are so pre-CGI brilliant that it becomes a completely visceral experience.



We are there. Every manifestation of the The Thing is tangible, tactile, viscous, gloppy- it's really there. That tightening in your stomach? That flutter in your heart? That's movie magic. It's real men doing real things, assailed by real monsters (well, almost). There is no disconnect, no cartoonish nonsense, no frills. These are desperate men fighting for survival.

Donald Moffat is an old-school cold warrior wholly unprepared for Lovecraftian foes.

Also, pretty tired of this fucking couch.

Richard Masur is the bewhiskered head of the kennel who toes that fine line between dog-lover and terrifying lumberjack (a major contrast from the 'Dad'-type roles he was confined to, later in the 80's).

RICHARD MASUR IS GOING TO TOUCH YOU THERE

Keith David is the gritty, unwavering, ice-cold survivor, Childs. Keith David does 'pissed off' like nobody else. In fact, somewhere, as we speak, he's probably getting pissed off and doesn't know why.

He's one of those rare actors who can serve as a cornerstone for 'suspension of disbelief' in an action picture. So a Hayden Christensen or a Gerard Butler is... saving the world, defeating Michael Ironside at arm-wrestling, leaping off a tall building, flamethrowering The Thing, et al.- sorry, no sale, fellas. Keith David doing any of those things? Yeah, I'm suspending disbelief. Cause I know if I don't, Keith David will probably show up on my doorstep to twist me into a pretzel like Sarge always does to Beetle Bailey. (He'll do that to you if you call him David Keith by mistake, too.)

Wilford "AH KIL YEW" Brimley is Blair, who possesses a stout, astounding severity.

AH KIL YEW

The way he grimaces and groans while doing the autopsy-


or the way he stares at the computer readout which says the entire population of Earth could be infected in the next 27,000 hours, then nonchalantly reaches for his gun...


(A scene almost exactly duplicated in LEVIATHAN.)

I guess on my scores of previous viewings, I was too caught up in the gravity, the horror of the situation to realize- as I did in the presence of other audience members while seeing THE THING on the big screen- that Brimley is not only brilliant, he is absolutely hilarious. And you are not laughing at Wilford, ohh no. Nor are you laughing at the fact that his reactions to these given scenarios are so stoically over-the-top. You're laughing because- no matter how ridiculous he gets- you believe every second of it. These are merely the ways that the very real 'Dr. Blair' happens to react when faced with The Thing.

I'm all better now

Kurt Russell really comes into his own in this film. Even the era-defining Snake Plissken (a year prior) is a little too Eastwood-derivative (but can you blame him?- he was hanging out with Lee van Cleef!), but MacReady is all Russell. He can pull off that ridiculous Antarctic winter sombrero, which just might be the most awesome hat in the history of film. He can swig the J&B like no other (watch him make sure he doesn't spill a drop when the Norwegians barrel into camp).

He can fly a chopper through the eye of a needle, brandish a flamethrower with élan, and tell that electronic 8-bit chess harpy (the uncredited voice of Adrienne Barbeau) what's what.

He's a character written by Bill Lancaster, Burt's son- and if you squint a little and clench your jaw, you can almost see the sturdy, benevolent shadow of Burt looming over Mac, like a hardass guardian angel-

In short, he's just the kind of man you hope is on the front lines when the heavy stuff starts to go down.

Six stars. Maybe seven.

-Sean Gill

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