Film Review: CAPE FEAR (1991, Martin Scorsese)

Stars: 4 of 5.

Running Time: 128 minutes.

Notable Cast or Crew:  Nick Nolte (EXTREME PREJUDICE, FAREWELL TO THE KING), Jessica Lange (THE POSTMAN ALWAYS RINGS TWICE '81, TITUS), Robert De Niro (RAGING BULL, THE ADVENTURES OF ROCKY AND BULLWINKLE), Joe Don Baker (THE OUTFIT, THE NATURAL, WALKING TALL), Juliette Lewis (FROM DUSK TILL DAWN, STRANGE DAYS), Illeana Douglas (GOODFELLAS, GHOST WORLD), and Fred Dalton Thompson (real-life failed presidential candidate, THE HUNT FOR RED OCTOBER).  Cameo appearances by Robert Mitchum, Gregory Peck, and Martin Balsam (PSYCHO, DEATH WISH 3).  New screenplay by Wesley Strick (ARACHNOPHOBIA, WOLF).  Cinematography by Freddie Francis (THE ELEPHANT MAN, DUNE).  Non-original music by Bernard Herrmann.  Herrmann score adapted by Elmer Bernstein (THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN, THE TEN COMMANDMENTS, GHOSTBUSTERS). Credits sequence by Saul Bass.  Uncredited executive produced by Steven Spielberg and Frank Marshall. 

Tag-line: "There is nothing in the dark that isn't in the light.  Except fear.  Cape Fear."  (emphasis added)

Best one-liner:  "Counselor!"

Alright, folks.  CAPE FEAR '91 has kind of a bad reputation.  Now, Scorsese went all out:  I think he thought this was going to be his "Hitchcock" film.  He even updated the Bernard Herrmann soundtrack and had Saul Bass (!) do the credits sequence.

As it turns out, it ain't Hitchcock, but let me put it in perspective.  You know that clichéd high school yearbook quote, "Shoot for the moon, even if you miss, you'll land among the stars?"  I think a slightly modified version of that can apply here.  I surmise:  "Shoot for Hitchcock('s moon-shaped belly), even if you miss, you'll land among the De Palmas."  And that's exactly what this feels like– a mid-range De Palma film!  And there are much worse things to be– because I happen to love mid-range De Palma (BODY DOUBLE, DRESSED TO KILL, RAISING CAIN, etc.) .

So without further adieu, and though I do prefer the original, here are seven quick reasons why CAPE FEAR '91 is a place worth visiting:

#1.  The inverse cameos.  CAPE FEAR '91 brings back three of the principals from CAPE FEAR '62, and in strange bizarro versions.
 
First, we have 'ol Rumple Eyes himself, Bob Mitchum, helping the Nick Nolte character protect himself from De Niro's version of the original Mitchum role.  Whew.


Then, we have Gregory Peck as an apparently evil version of Atticus Finch, defending De Niro from Nick Nolte's version of the original Peck role.  Damn!

Finally, we have Martin Balsam playing the judge who sides with De Niro, because he hates "vigilante justice."  Now, I know that's not true– given that I've seen him mow down legions of gang members with WWII-era machine gun in DEATH WISH 3.

#2.  Joe Don Baker drinking a combination of Pepto-Bismol and Jim Beam for the duration of the film.

If that doesn't warm your heart, then I personally forbid you from ever again watching a Joe Don Baker movie.

#3.  De Niro makin' creepy phone calls in gravity boots. 

Because... 1991.

#4.  The "clinging to the underbelly of a rapidly moving vehicle for several hours" plot twist, which feels EXACTLY like something that'd be in a De Palma film. 
  

#5.  Ditto on "murderous De Niro in drag."
 
It's really one of those strange performances where you can't quite tell if he's phoning it in or not.  There's often a fine line between "bad" acting and "genius" acting (see: the career of Steve Railsback, for example), and I kinda can't tell if this is a performance of nuanced intensity, or if it's a practical joke on the audience.  Either way, I love it.

#6.  Continuing in this vein:  in 1991, nearly one hundred years of motion picture history culminated in the subtle beauty of Robert De Niro singing a line of Tiffany's "I Think We're Alone Now"

while offering a joint to orthodonitia-encrusted teenage Juliette Lewis:

Truly fantastic.

#7.  Nick Nolte crazy-face!

I've discussed this in-depth before, but there are few things more frighteningly exhilarating than seeing a crazy-faced Nick Nolte in his native habitat.

SWEET DREAMS, KIDDIES!


P.S.  It always struck me as bizarre that the theatrical poster's placement (see above) of the torn photo and De Niro's creepy gaze build a subliminal image of a keyhole, especially since I can't recall keyholes being relevant to the plot whatsoever.  Thoughts?

–Sean Gill

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Film Review: PHASE IV (1974, Saul Bass)

Stars: 5 of 5.
Running Time: 84 minutes.
Tag-line: "Ravenous Invaders Controlled by a Terror Out in Space Commanded to Annihilate the World!" Well, let's not get carried away.
Notable Cast or Crew: Written by Mayo Simon (FUTUREWORLD). Cinematography by Dick Bush (MAHLER, LAIR OF THE WHITE WORM, SORCERER). Music by Brian Gascoigne (THE EMERALD FOREST, CHERRY 2000, additional synths on THE DARK CRYSTAL). Insect sequences by Ken Middleham (THE HELLSTROM CHRONICLE, DAMNATION ALLEY, DAYS OF HEAVEN). Starring Michael Murphy (Altman-fave, TANNER '88, MAGNOLIA, NASHVILLE, BATMAN RETURNS, SALVADOR), Nigel Davenport (PEEPING TOM, CHARIOTS OF FIRE, NIGHTHAWKS), Lynne Frederick (VAMPIRE CIRCUS, VOYAGE OF THE DAMNED).
Best one-liner: Not really that kind of movie.

PHASE IV is the only full-length film directed by Saul Bass– graphic design virtuoso, legendary credits sequence creator and Oscar-winner (for his short film WHY MAN CREATES)– and it leaves the viewer in a state of distress- not only due to the unsettling subject matter, but mostly because Bass never bestowed us with another feature!

To use mere words to describe PHASE IV would be a senseless exercise, but I suppose that it's one I shall attempt nonetheless. It is a collage of sound and image conjured from the deepest pits of mankind's greatest fears. It takes the ball from 1971's THE HELLSTROM CHRONICLE (as well as that film's genius insect cinematographer, Ken Middleham) and runs with it. Taking cues from arthouse cinema of alienation propogated by the likes of Michelangelo Antonioni (L'ECLISSE, RED DESERT) and Hiroshi Teshigahara (WOMAN IN THE DUNES, THE FACE OF ANOTHER), Bass creates a cruel, exotic worldscape of geodesic domes, subterranean tunnels, microscopic photography, and blistering sunlight. Brian Gascoigne's accompanying soundscapes are often electronic, high-pitched, oscillating frequencies; elsewhere they're eerie synthesized organs and low, dissonant tones. His work recalls early Tangerine Dream, the more avant-garde scores of Ennio Morricone, and the manic energy of Franco Battiato, and it perfectly sets the stage for what Bass desires to show us:




Forget the tag-line, forget the supposed sci-fi 'reasons' behind why the events contained within PHASE IV occur. This film is trippy as shit, and it's as beautiful as it is troubling. PHASE IV is order and disorder. Geometry and disarray. Patterns and chaos. Symbols and meaninglessness. It's something hidden- buried- within our souls and etched upon our spinal columns. It's been with us since the stone faces were built on Easter Island and since the time of the pyramids and before. Each and every image captivates us, fascinates us, because deep down we know that we are not the masters of this planet.

Impression: ants marching to their doom, carrying a poison granule to their Queen, so that She might become immune to the contagion. The limbs become weary, and the creatures take their final steps. Upon dying, each hands off the toxic crumb to the next contestant like some kind of solemn relay race.

Impression: human beings choking on industrial insecticide. Each heaving, laborious breath begets dry coughs which only serve to further coat the lungs with the thick, deadly yellow powder.


The morning after, silver men with artificial respirators survey the damage, looking down upon the fleshy wreckage with the disconnected indifference of ancient gods.

Impression: walls of dirt and avalanches of debris lay siege to the compound of the ants.

Crushed by a small stone, an ant explodes with Peckinpah-ish élan and ceases to be a living creature, its empty ant-shell separated from its viscera in a moment nearly frozen in time by the slow-motion photography.




Impression: a solitary ant gnaws on a slender electrical cable, the lives of three humans and an entire society of organisms hanging in the balance.


Concurrently, a praying mantis stalks its prey amidst unnatural corridors of wiring and circuitry...

This is insect drama, and it's better than most of the crap that passes for human drama. It strikes a chord. And I'm struck with the thought that somehow PHASE IV would have made a better series finale to LOST than the actual one; just stick the Dharma logo on the ant research facility.


In the end, we are weak. Our ungainly size, our emotion, our selfishness, our reliance on technology, our fragility, the ease with which we become frustrated, our increasingly tenuous link to the living world- these things shall be our downfall. And so I'll leave you with a few quotes from what I consider to be PHASE IV's sister film, THE HELLSTROM CHRONICLE:

"In fighting the insect we have killed ourselves, polluted our water, poisoned our wildlife, permeated our own flesh with deadly toxins. The insect becomes immune, and we are poisoned. In fighting with superior intellect, we have outsmarted ourselves....
Compared with Man, we have to admit that the insect does not display what we can describe as intelligence. But do not feel too proud about that, because where there is no intelligence, there is also no stupidity.
Confronted with this incredible resourcefulness - this desperate desire to survive - we must wonder, why? What is the value, even for oneself, to sustain an existence that must ultimately end in death? The insect has the answer, because he never posed the question."

Five stars.

-Sean Gill

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