Television Review: TALES OF THE CITY (1993, Alastair Reid)

Stars: 5 of 5.
Running Time: 360 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Laura Linney (ABSOLUTE POWER, MYSTIC RIVER, THE TRUMAN SHOW), Olympia Dukakis (MOONSTRUCK, DEATH WISH, SISTERS), Donald Moffat (THE THING, ALAMO BAY), Chloe Webb (SID AND NANCY, GHOSTBUSTERS II, TWINS), Marcus D'Amico (SUPERMAN II, 'Hand Job' in FULL METAL JACKET), Billy Campbell (THE ROCKETEER, Coppola's DRACULA), Thomas Gibson (EYES WIDE SHUT, 'Greg' on DHARMA & GREG), Paul Gross (MEN WITH BROOMS, COLD COMFORT), Barbara Garrick (THE ICE STORM, THE FIRM, DOTTIE GETS SPANKED), Rod Steiger (DUCK YOU SUCKER, John Flynn's THE SERGEANT, IN THE HEAT OF THE NIGHT), Robert Downey Sr., County Joe McDonald (of Country Joe and the Fish), Parker Posey, Paul Bartel, Ian McKellen, Mary Kay Place, Karen Black, Michael Jeter (TRUE CRIME, JURASSIC PARK III), Stanley DeSantis (THE AVIATOR, BOOGIE NIGHTS), Marissa Ribisi, Janeane Garofelo, and many others. Based on the book by Armistead Maupin. Cinematography by Walt Lloyd (KAFKA; SEX, LIES, & VIDEOTAPE; PUMP UP THE VOLUME, TO SLEEP WITH ANGER).
Best one-liner: "Come on, and try not looking like Tricia Nixon reviewing the troops."

"We don't have people like her in Cleveland." –"Too bad for Cleveland!"
Capturing 1970's San Francisco with genuine loving care and paying no heed to the social mores of standard network broadcasting, TALES OF THE CITY arrived on the scene in 1993 to critical praise and a fair amount of controversy (it was funded by Channel 4 and televised in the U.S. on PBS). I've watched it many times over, and I'm unsure if a series has ever quite so wonderfully, wistfully, and mystically captured the experience of moving to a big city and spreading your wings. TALES OF THE CITY is life in transition–

Mary Ann Singleton (Laura Linney) comes all the way from Ohio to emerge from her chrysalis: she becomes an independent young woman of her own construction- adapting and absorbing, but never mimicking, never losing her sense of self (or her housecoat that looks like a mattress cover!):

Note housecoat.

Mona Ramsey (Chloe Webb, in an electrifying performance) has lived in San Francisco long enough to traverse her life with complete confidence and quaalude-tempered charm, but recently she's been thirsting for something more, maybe even that house in Pacific Heights…or perhaps she’d settle for a few dear friends:

Webb and Marcus D'Amico's Michael Tolliver polish off some Chinese takeout.


Edgar Halcyon (the lovably gruff Donald Moffat) finds himself nearing death.

Years of inhibitions have calcified like a disease, and he yearns for one final last (or is it the first?) affair de coeur before he's just a heap of moldering dust.

These characters (and many more- from Thomas Gibson's leering scamp:

to Marcus D'Amico's cheerful Florida boy to Billy Campbell's earnest gynecologist:

to Paul Gross' self-possessed waiter to Barbara Garrick's meandering high society wife in crisis to Stanley De Santis' awkward loner) all find themselves affected, in one way or another, by the epicenter of it all: Miss Anna Madrigal of 28 Barbary Lane (played with tranquil aplomb by the devoted, maternal Olympia Dukakis).

With all of these beings (and even the era itself) in transition, Madrigal becomes their guardian, their friend, and their icon- representing the human ability to break free of one's self-imposed limitations and redefine oneself, to build a community. There’s a spiritual element to it all, with Madrigal’s parable of lost Atlantis and her desire to congregate like-minded individuals, but there’s a profound goofiness as well, from Parker Posey’s Snoopy-obsessed party girl:

to Karen Black as herself (at a fat farm!) to Paul Bartel & Ian McKellen as the height of snobbery:

The height of snobbery and loving it.

to Mary Kay Place’s ludicrous roundtable of rape.

Which is funnier than it sounds.

The work explodes with these juxtapositions- profundity and disco; tourist hotspots and dubious holes-in-the-wall; dance competitions and suicide hotlines; epochal, life-changing events and casual conversations struck up at the supermaket; serious, kitchen-sink drama and an atmosphere that occasionally smacks of VERTIGO fused with ALICE IN WONDERLAND – and, as such, it's a true portrait of the city and a tribute to those irresistable souls who inhabit it…

-Sean Gill

Junta Juleil's Summer '10 Movie Series
1. HELL IN THE PACIFIC (1968, John Boorman)
2. KUFFS (1992, Bruce A. Evans)
3. THE OUTFIT (1973, John Flynn)

4. FOR Y'UR HEIGHT ONLY (1981, Eddie Nicart)

5. A*P*E (1976, Paul Leder)

6. BLIND FURY (1989, Philip Noyce)
7. HIS KIND OF WOMAN (1951, John Farrow)
8. HIGH SCHOOL U.S.A. (1983, Rod Amateau)
9. DR. JEKYLL AND MS. HYDE (1995, David Price)
10. MIDNIGHT IN THE GARDEN OF GOOD AND EVIL (1997, Clint Eastwood)
11. 1990: BRONX WARRIORS (1982, Enzo G. Castellari)
12. FALLING DOWN (1993, Joel Schumacher)
13. TOURIST TRAP (1979, David Schmoeller)
14. THE THREE MUSKETEERS (1973, Richard Lester)
15. BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA (1986, John Carpenter)
16. TOP GUN (1986, Tony Scott)
17. 48 HRS. (1982, Walter Hill)
18. ONCE UPON A TIME IN MEXICO (2003, Robert Rodriguez)
19. TALES OF THE CITY (1993, Alastair Reid)
20. ...

Read More

The Happiest Medium on PRINCES OF DARKNESS

Well, the run may be over, but praise for PRINCES OF DARKNESS continues: The Happiest Medium weighs in with thoughtful review, here. On the sound design of yours truly they say: "Before PRINCES OF DARKNESS (written and performed by Bill Connington) even begins, there’s an ambiance created by sound designer Sean Gill that does its best to set a tone of creepy nervousness. Resonating within the small theatre, which is completely draped in black cloth, is the kind of music reserved for the scenes in movies that have the most startling effect – a subtle drop of blood oozing down a table, a shadow crossing a deserted hallway. Let yourself get pulled too deeply into the sounds and you’ll find that you’ll jump when the seat behind you thuds down."

Read More

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

Read More

Film Review: ONCE UPON A TIME IN MEXICO (2003, Robert Rodriguez)

Stars: 4.5 of 5.
Running Time: 102 minutes.
Tag-line: "The Time Has Come."
Notable Cast or Crew: Antonio Banderas, Salma Hayek, Willem Dafoe, Johnny Depp, Mickey Rourke, Eva Mendes, Danny Trejo, Cheech Marin, Rubén Blades, Enrique Iglesias, Marco Leonardi.
Best one-liner: "Ok. Smoke him... Smoke the fucker! Send him straight to fucking Broadway."

Rodriguez's continued retellings of his "Sergio Leone by-way-of Walter Hill and John Woo" EL MARIACHI legend are like a monstrous, runaway snowball. And as it rolls downhill, it increases in speed, size, ludicrousity, and finally, by ONCE UPON A TIME IN MEXICO, it's a completely deranged, rampaging behemoth full of eclectic actors, jaw-dropping setpieces, and a tangible joie de vivre that its contemporaries truly lack.




Here's 10 reasons why ONCE UPON A TIME IN MEXICO rises above the muck of your typical 00's action flick and is worthy of your time:

#1. Some movies will, at times, splash a little blood or water on the lens. I think it's meant to amplify the grittiness, but for me it intensifies the disconnect- 'I'm watching a movie.' Rodriguez goes a step further: during a desert dirt bike chase, some cacti get blasted and the lens is spattered with cactus juice, which I have no choice but to wholeheartedly support.


#2. Mickey Rourke (and his l'il doggie). Now this is 21st Century Rourke (fossilized skin, gravelly voice, and every third word is "goddamn") at his finest.

His purple suits are not costumes- they're from his personal wardrobe. He exudes actual pathos, and in the course of a few brief scenes builds a relationship with his little chihuahua buddy that's more genuine and touching than anything from a weepie picture.

#3. Depp and his kitschy accoutrements.

From a CLASH OF THE TITANS lunchbox to an 'I'm With Stupid' t-shirt to the fanny packs, the fake 'staches, and the shorts n' blazer combo, Depp's attire is a testament to the inspired lunacy of the man himself.

Only on set for a few days, Depp hand-picked his own wardrobe from the festering aisles of tacky, border-town thrift shops and proceeded to unleash a hurricane of loopy, Brando-style improvisation, supposedly inspired by an anonymous, eccentric Hollywood mover and shaker who Depp always imagined "wore really cheesy tourist shirts, had a sideline obsession with Broadway, and favored strange, obvious disguises."

The end result is nothing short of astonishing, and 'Agent Sands' surely belongs on the short list of great characters in contemporary action cinema.

#4. Banderas' brutal double low-blow, worthy of Leo Fong. You'll know it when you see it.



Banderas' look says it all: he takes brutal ball-squeezing very seriously.

I'm sad to say, however, that the duration still compares unfavorably to THE EVIL THAT MEN DO.

#5. Willem Dafoe.

Scary with a mustache. Scary in silk shirts. Scary behind bandages. So scary, even Danny Trejo has got the heebie-jeebies, which is really saying something. Hell, he's even freaking out his döppelganger.

It's nearly a throwaway role- one in a parade of villainous entities- but we all know that Dafoe doesn't require a majority of screen-time to be terrifying as all get out.

WILLEM DAFOE WILL STARE INTO YOUR SOUL

#6. This camera angle.

Sometime between the ribaldry of classic 70's action cinema (BRING ME THE HEAD OF ALFREDO GARCIA, ROLLING THUNDER, et al.) and the present day, Hollywood moved from "gritty South American hooker in a smoke den with peeling paint" sleaze to "corporate, collagen, plasticine, air-brushed to oblivion" sleaze. And, frankly, I find the latter kind of disturbing. Regardless, while Eva Mendes certainly wouldn't belong in a Peckinpah flick, this camera-angle, and what it represents- an unrepentant, 'let's-call-a-spade-a-spade' style of bawdiness– is refreshing.

#7. "Are you a Mexi-CAN or a Mexi-CAN'T?"


#8. Cheech Marin.

Well, he missed out on the first EL MARIACHI movie, so I suppose he tried to make up for it by subsequently playing seven roles in seven Rodriguez flicks- a feat more impressive than it sounds, given that 5 of those films belong to ongoing series (3 SPY KIDS and 2 EL MARIACHI films). Here, he's amusingly long-winded and has got an eye patch, and that's really all you need to know.

#9. Rubén Blades. He's not the flashiest performer here. He's not an ex-con like Danny Trejo, a funnyman like Cheech Marin, a pop star like Enrique Iglesias, or a petrified, walking cautionary tale like Mickey Rourke.

He's low-key. He's convincing. And Rodriguez outfits him with a story arc that's well worth our time. In a film that's a whirling vortex of over-the-top yarns, off-kilter character actors, and reeling action set-pieces, Blades is that grounding dose of subtlety that really ties it all together.

#10. The finale: an eyeless gunslinger who makes Zatoichi look like Mr. Magoo, Banderas surfing down a staircase on his guitar, PREDATOR 2 references, and endless one-liners- life is good.


Nearly five stars. And while I surely wouldn't say no to a fourth EL MARIACHI flick, I'm not sure how Rodriguez could possibly escalate upon the bedlam contained herein without it collapsing under its own weight...

-Sean Gill

Junta Juleil's Summer '10 Movie Series
1. HELL IN THE PACIFIC (1968, John Boorman)
2. KUFFS (1992, Bruce A. Evans)
3. THE OUTFIT (1973, John Flynn)

4. FOR Y'UR HEIGHT ONLY (1981, Eddie Nicart)

5. A*P*E (1976, Paul Leder)

6. BLIND FURY (1989, Philip Noyce)
7. HIS KIND OF WOMAN (1951, John Farrow)
8. HIGH SCHOOL U.S.A. (1983, Rod Amateau)
9. DR. JEKYLL AND MS. HYDE (1995, David Price)
10. MIDNIGHT IN THE GARDEN OF GOOD AND EVIL (1997, Clint Eastwood)
11. 1990: BRONX WARRIORS (1982, Enzo G. Castellari)
12. FALLING DOWN (1993, Joel Schumacher)
13. TOURIST TRAP (1979, David Schmoeller)
14. THE THREE MUSKETEERS (1973, Richard Lester)
15. BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA (1986, John Carpenter)
16. TOP GUN (1986, Tony Scott)
17. 48 HRS. (1982, Walter Hill)
18. ONCE UPON A TIME IN MEXICO (2003, Robert Rodriguez)
19. ...

Read More

J.B. Spins on PRINCES OF DARKNESS

J.B. Spins reviews PRINCES OF DARKNESS, a new play written, produced, and performed by Bill Connington and directed by Rachel Klein which I've done the sound design for- and you can read the full review here. Regarding yours truly, Spins says "the creepiest aspect of Darkness might be Sean Gill’s unsettling audio effects."

Four performances remain:
Wednesday, August 11th @ 9:00 pm
Thursday, August 12th @ 9:00 pm
Friday, August 13th @ 9:00 pm
Saturday, August 14th @ 7:00 pm

and tickets/other information can be found here.

Read More

Film Review: PAST MIDNIGHT (1991, Jan Eliasberg)

Stars: 3.5 of 5.
Running Time: 100 minutes.
Tag-line: "Past Passion. Past Terror. Past Murder. Past Midnight."
Notable Cast or Crew: Rutger Hauer, Natasha Richardson, Clancy Brown (HIGHLANDER, BLUE STEEL, EXTREME PREJUDICE), Paul Giamatti, Tom Wright (EXTERMINATOR 2, THE BROTHER FROM ANOTHER PLANET), Guy Boyd (FLASHPOINT, THE EWOK ADVENTURE: CARAVAN OF COURAGE). Written by Frank Norwood (DRIVEN TO KILL, THE SURVIVAL OF DANA). Script doctoring by Quentin Tarantino. Music by Steve Bartek (CABIN BOY, SNOW DAY, former member of Strawberry Alarm Clock and Oingo Boingo).
Best exchange: "146 I.Q...." –"Ted Bundy had 150."

Before I even begin, three things: PAST MIDNIGHT is far better than it has any right to be. Second, I'd heard this described as a wanna-be Eszterhas, when, in fact- it's wanna-be De Palma. There's a big difference. Third, Quentin Tarantino did do a rewrite of the script, which gained him that nebulous "associate producer" credit, and yes, you can tell. More on that in a bit.

The main thrust is that Rutger Hauer has been released from prison after fifteen years for the murder of his wife and unborn child- a crime which he claims not to have committed. (And he's Rutger Hauer, so he's pretty persuasive.)

Natasha Richardson becomes his social worker and then a little bit more than his social worker, and breaks the fragile heart of Clancy Brown in the process.

But the thought continues to gnaw at the back of her mind...what if he did do it?

Now, to me, this sounds a lot like De Palma did a TV movie remake of IN A LONELY PLACE, and it was indeed the only theatrical foray by television director-for-hire Jan Eliasberg (CAGNEY & LACEY, L.A. LAW, SISTERS, EARLY EDITION, PARTY OF FIVE, et al.). The surprising thing is that it works. Well, at least until the third act. Some of you might be attributing this to the Tarantino rewrite, but I've gotta say most of the commendations belong to the actors and composer Steve Bartek. Tarantino does bring a certain degree of idiosyncratic dialogue to the table, and while it's immediately identifiable as Tarantino's, it doesn't quite qualify as razor-edged or quotable, per sé.

For example:
"Maybe Jordan isn't a natural born killer."
"I'm not a sex maniac! I'm not some Son-of-Sam asshole!"
"It makes Nightmare on Elm Street look like Charlotte's Web."
"What's the difference between a whore and a bitch? A whore'll sleep with anybody, and a bitch'll sleep with anybody but me."
"If we were to have this kind of an exchange in the joint, one of us would end up with a shank between the ribs."
"You can say 'maybe' all goddamn day, and I don't think you believe that."

Composer Steve Bartek's music is great- it's melodramatic, over-the-top, and punctuated with enough frightening strings to be worthy of Bernard Herrmann (or at least Pino Donaggio). One of the more bombastic, overdramatic scores of the 1990's for sure, and I've always said that anything which nearly approximates Max Steiner, even bad Max Steiner, maybe especially bad Max Steiner, is worth a few points in my book.

The acting is top-notch. Rutger Hauer is, as always, phenomenal. The entire movie hinges upon his ability to appear as 'the killer' and 'not the killer' at the same time- and by gum, does he pull it off.


There's a terrifying ambiguity to everything that he does, and in more than one scene, he tugs on the heart-strings while simultaneously creeping you the fuck out. He even gets to do a ridiculous (intentional? unintentional?) replay of the "tears in rain" scene from BLADE RUNNER, which makes this feel almost like a Rutger Hauer's Greatest Hits compilation, with bits and pieces taken from the Ridley Scott, the psycho in THE HITCHER, and the love triangle from A BREED APART.



Tears in rain

At one point, he's referred to as "white trash," which is, of course, a bit of a stretch, but he wears enough turtlenecks throughout to maintain his intellectual integrity.

Then we've got Clancy Brown, camping outside Richardson's house and watching the new lovers from his fishing boat with a mixture of jealousy and disdain.


He gets to wear some hideous early 90's cravats as well,

but that doesn't prevent us from liking him just the same.

Stuck in the middle is Natasha Richardson, who besides being caught in a love triangle with two of the best action hero/villains of the 1980's, has the difficult task of holding her own against a flashily-written and acted Hauer role. Naturally, she succeeds, and, in the end, does it with shotgun-blastin' panache.

But who are we supposed to be rooting for here? Clancy Brown or Rutger Hauer? This is like SOPHIE's choice. This is asking me to choose between children.

The Kurgan or Roy Batty? EXTREME PREJUDICE or WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE? This is sadistic, the way that you're toying with my emotions, PAST MIDNIGHT.

The lush, fog-enshrouded, overcast, and isolated Pacific Northwestern locations fit the material well, and on more than one occasion, there's palpable suspense.

There are some nice bits that are reminiscent of the best giallos, and a recurring device which involves a killer using a 16mm camera

which recalls Dario Argento's "black-gloved murderer POV" as well as the camera-spike killer from PEEPING TOM. We've got a solid enough early 90's thriller with enough faux-De Palma (never thought I'd say that) street cred and solid performances to make it enjoyable, but it severely bungles the ending, going for some boneheaded, 'Gotcha!,' clichéd action. Ordinarily, I'd be okay with that, but I think that it actually earned some complexity points along the way. It could have ended as a slowly racheted, chilling character study, and, given the caliber of actor, I would've been more than satisfied. Regardless: three and a half stars.

-Sean Gill

Read More