Category Archives: Capsules

IT CAME FROM THE READER-SUGGESTED QUEUE: TOUT VA BIEN (1972)

AKA All’s Well, Just Great, Everything’s Alright

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DIRECTED BY: Jean-Luc Godard,

FEATURING: Yves Montand, ,

PLOT: Susan, an expatriate American journalist, and Jacques, her commercial-director husband, visit a sausage factory on the day that the workers launch a strike and are trapped in the building for two days; after the strike ends, they reflect on the decline of their leftist ideals, and their relationship.

Still from Tout va bien (1972)

COMMENTS: A full year after it was published, a particular excerpt from KC Green’s webcomic “Gunshow” began to gain traction as a meme. The strip, “On Fire,” tracked the fate of a bowler-hatted canine as he maintained his optimism in the face of rising and increasingly destructive flames. Intriguingly, it was the first two panels that became a widely recognized meme, setting our inferno-consumed scene and enshrining the dog’s preternaturally calm assessment, “This is fine.” Lost in the commodification of the image was the build and climax, including Question Hound’s confident ignorance (“I’m okay with the events that are unfolding currently”), his more uncertain self-assurance (“That’s okay, things are going to be okay”), and finally his ultimate fate in the conflagration, melted into hideous deformation like a decorative candle left in the attic. 

Tout Va Bien, which translates literally as “everything is going well,” lives in the space of those forgotten panels. While leftists remember the raucous events of May 68 for the drama of the strikes, protests, and occupations that brought France to a halt, the aftermath four years later find them exhausted, frustrated at their failure to transform society, and uncertain of the line between social and personal gain. So it is that a Communist leader, far from triumphing over the tyranny of capitalism, can be found in a store hawking his book. (“4.75 francs, marked down from 5.50!”) 

Godard and Gorin feel this uncertainty very keenly. Having spent the past several years trying to make Marxist movies in a Marxist fashion, Tout Va Bien was a step back into (relatively) mainstream cinema. As it happens, the movie begins with a pair of offscreen voices debating the traditional story elements needed in a successful film, followed by a series of checks being written to the many participants in the production. The message “you’ve got to spend money to make money” is clearly delivered.

But it’s not as though Jean-Luc Godard is going to suddenly go full Marvel. The subject of leftist dissatisfaction with their role in the political conversation is hardly mainstream subject matter. His technique is forcefully Brechtian, as characters frequently face the fourth wall to expand upon their complaints. And for all the power of having two international movie icons as your leads, the directors give them precious little to do beyond watch the actions around them as they unfold, and to describe their frustrations to each other—and to us. Godard may adopt the conventions of traditional moviemaking, but he puts them in service to a stridently political message, one that asks the question, “Why didn’t we change the world?”

Two of Godard and Gorin’s set pieces are genuine showstoppers. They build the factory set vertically, allowing us a peek into every room, much like the ship cutaway in Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou. (Contemporary critics regularly cited Jerry Lewis’ The Ladies Man as a visual inspiration.) This proves valuable in predicting the fate of the strike, as we watch the angry employees break down into factions, fight over their aims, alternate between pointed agitprop and steam-venting vandalism, while each of them insists that their part of the literal sausage-making process is the worst. This is bookended with a stunning tracking shot along the checkout lines at a impressively large supermarket, wherein we watch the lifecycle of a protest as it goes from citizens trying to go about their business to mass defiance to the inevitable violent crackdown by the authorities. These are not surprising messages, but they demonstrate vividly what Godard’s filmmaking acumen can bring to the telling.

Tout Va Bien is an elegy for active leftism. Five decades later, the situations echo strongly with current events, and the young people in the movie chanting “Cops! Bosses! Murderers!” feel like direct ancestors to the Occupy Wall Street and Black Lives Matter protests of recent years. But the outcome is also mirrored in our time. As the film concludes, a chipper tune pops in to proclaim, “It’s sunny in France, nothing else matters.” It’s the kind of song that’s probably playing in a room filled with fire, while a melting dog nods along.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“Godard’s strange fusion of his pre- and post-radicalized styles turned off critics and audiences alike, but Criterion’s lovingly assembled new DVD suggests that it warrants reappraisal. Though certainly dull and didactic at times, Tout Va Bien is remarkable foremost for its sustained twilight mood of exquisite resignation, of exhausted sadness and bone-deep world-weariness.”–Nathan Rabin, The A.V. Club (home video release)

(This movie was nominated for review by Caleb Moss. Suggest a weird movie of your own here.)

WEIRD VIEW CREW: ANDY WARHOL’S BAD (1977)

A pitch-black, campy comedy about murder for hire in which the victims include babies and puppies, starring cult icons Carroll Baker and . Directed by one Jed Johnson (Warhol’s lover at the time). Before , there was . Pete thinks this one is deserving of Apocrypha status.

(This movie was nominated for review by Christian McLaughlin of Westgate Gallery, who called this “astonishingly ahead-of-its-time 1977 black comedy” his “#1 choice” for the list, but also warned “it’s almost impossible to see a decent & uncut print.” Suggest a weird movie of your own here.)

CAPSULE: SHADOW OF FIRE (2023)

Hokaje

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DIRECTED BY:

CAST: Shuri, , Ouga Tsukao

PLOT: Amidst robberies and other exploits, a young boy tries his best to survive in the black market area of a ravaged town in post-WWII Japan; his path intersects with other struggling characters, including a war widow and a man who recruits him for an unknown enterprise.

Still from Shadow of Fire (2023)

COMMENTS: Shadow of Fire is the latest offering by Shinya Tsukamoto; more specifically, the Tsukamoto who brought us films such as  Kotoko, Fires on the Plain, and Killing. These late-career outings see the director opt for a more conventional register, while keeping more or less all of the trademarks that define his peculiar filmmaking style.

In the immediate aftermath of WWII, an unnamed war orphan makes his way through a devastated town’s black market, eventually finding refuge in a tavern kept by a woman who has resorted to prostitution after the loss of her husband and her son. She soon develops a motherly affection for the boy; the inn also begins receiving frequent visits from a young soldier.

In spite of all the differences that separate Shadow of Fire from Tsukamoto’s earlier work, the sensibility of the Tetsuo director is still on display here, not only in certain aesthetic choices but also in film’s core themes: for instance, the emphasis on the thinness of the barrier between what we call “human” and whatever lies outside its fragile boundaries. The soldier who finds shelter in the tavern undergoes, at a sudden reminder of his wartime torments, a quick transformation, unlike those in the director’s more fantastical productions, but no less terrifying precisely because of how plausible it is. (One can only imagine how many veterans underwent similar transmogrifications.) Equally notable is how repressed subjects (in this case, war traumas) are always ready to burst forth violently and dramatically—this time, not through physical mutations or explosions of steel and monstrous flesh, but in eruptions of emotional intensity. Shadow of Fire portrays an environment of disquieting uncertainty that underlies even its warmer moments, such as the familial bonding that develops between the three characters, with horror always on the periphery, looking to intrude at the slightest invitation.

In moments like these Tsukamoto’s DIY approach reveals its strengths. The handheld camera adds immersion and immediacy, and a visceral sense of physicality that heightens the brutality. The more discrete scenes might not be pulled off as efficiently, but they are as satisfactorily executed as in a piece by a more traditional filmmaker.

In any case, the drama is genuinely compelling: in particular, the plotline involving the boy’s dalliances with a mysterious man with whom he tags along for a mission whose nature is never disclosed, apart from the fact that it requires the boy to carry a pistol. Tsukamoto maintains an effective sense of tension and intrigue until this arc’s climax, which ties in with the film’s overarching themes of the lasting effects of trauma and dehumanization.

The film’s entire POV is the boy’s, much like in the masterful Soviet war film Come and See. While the adults surrounding him deal with a variety of war scars, his plot arc mirrors his condition as an orphan. Throughout his journey, he finds himself successively abandoned, first by a new mother figure (who unexpectedly rejects him after their time together), and then a masculine figure who accompanies him for a tragically short but intense stint.

The film’s coda may be unnecessary, but further testifies to Tsukamoto’s compromise to conventional narrative film trappings, attempting to close all of the plot’s loose ends and develop them to a conclusion (that is, within the climate of uncertainty that envelops the entire scenario).

Shadow of Fire will please Tsukamoto fans who have stayed on board for his more “sober” output, like his post-2010 war films or, for a less recent example, 2004’s Vital. While the director’s style might not always lend itself seamlessly to the premise at hand, and the content might inevitably lead to cliché and over-trodden territory, the power of certain scenes is undeniable. Shadow is a worthy addition to the Japanese icon’s resumé.

The reviewer saw this film at Fantasporto’s 2024 festival; U.S. release plans are uncertain at this time.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“It is not an easy watch, but, driven by performances that range from haunting and affecting, to terrifying and grotesque, it is a powerful one.”–Wendy Ide, Screen Daily (festival screening)

CAPSULE: CREATING REM LEZAR (1989)

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DIRECTED BY: Scott Zakarin

FEATURING: Jack Mulcahy, Courtney Kernaghan, Jonathan Goch

PLOT: Ashlee and Zack mysteriously share an imaginary friend, a being whom they must aid in a search for his medallion before the sun sets and the evil Vorock triumphs.

Still from Creating Rem Lazar (1989)

COMMENTS: This pint-lengthed movie hits above its weight in the realm of cringeful oddness. Filmed in the late 1980s, it has the hair extremes and the soft-n-smooth musical flair of a stone polished into a glassy spheroid. As a children’s movie, it features the inevitable amateurity found when young actors are thrust to the fore. Multi-cultural feel-good-ism gets an extended nod during a the protagonists’ Central Park encounter with a gang of flamboyant a-cappella greasers, who then move on to a hip-hop black fellow, with then a pair of fiddlers. And the aesthetics behind the titular hero’s ensemble might raise questions, were the viewer not struck dumb by the intense blue motif—blue lycra body suit, blue cape, and Rem Lezar’s mullet dyed blue to match. Creating Rem Lezar is a trial by Aghh, waltzing from one schmaltz piece to the next at a speed which leaves no room for the viewer to collect their wits. That said, presuming you can endure the vehicle, the various messages in this experiment are worthwhile.

Tykes Ashlee and Zach are day-dreamers, often in trouble at school and home for ignoring their surroundings in favor of spending time with a mutually manifested entity who comforts their fears and doubts. Rem Lezar’s creation—through sheer force of belief and cooperation by the youngsters—leads to many teachable moments. And despite his absurd appearance, Lezar has much wisdom to offer—to children in particular, and to people in general.

The pair of kids differ vociferously about how to overcome the challenge from the villain (an ’80s-FX malevolent head), prompting Lezar to calmly explain, “Differences of opinion are fine, and you have to stand behind what you believe. But you have to work together, and giving in a little doesn’t mean giving up.” Later, Zach complains about not fitting in, asking his hero why others have a hard time understanding him. Quite Socratically, Lezar asks the boy, “Why do you think others have a hard time understanding you?” This kicks off a moment of reflection on how comprehension needs to go both ways.

That, and many similar moments, left me with overall positive feelings about this little film. Every piece of advice on offer is sensible, thoughtfully phrased and communicated, and largely dispels the immediately preceding (and surrounding) obtuseness. There’s a lot of hate for this movie among reviewers, with much condemnation of the film’s alleged “creepiness.” This could hardly be further from the truth. Creating Rem Lezar often approaches insufferable, but I was relieved at how harmless the titular character proved to be, and delighted at how well-anchored the film is in regards to how we should treat one another. I only wish these sentiments hadn’t been buried under this mountain of expired cheese.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“Rem, I suppose, could be a reference to REM, or rapid eye movement, the phase of sleep where we have our most vivid dreams. Given the film’s bizarre, dreamlike nature, this seems to make some sense. On the other hand, the only explanation I can come up with for the word “lezar” is that it is the Creole word for ‘lizard,’ which makes a great deal less sense, unless Creating Rem Lezar is less a bizarre, misguided attempt at an empowering children’s film and more a story of a Lovecraftian, shape-shifting, nightmare-reptile which invades the dreams of impressionable youths, masquerading as an amiable–if somewhat inappropriately friendly–superhero, in a wicked plan to sow delusion and madness in the minds of poor, unsuspecting children through mind-numbingly awful sing-songs.” — Derek Miller, BadMovieRealm.Com

(This movie was nominated for review by Emil Hyde, who called it “quite possibly the worst/best/weirdest ‘children’s’ film ever made” and went on to add, “It’s not quality like most of the films on the list, but it is baffling on every level”. Suggest a weird movie of your own here.)

WEIRD VIEW CREW: ROCK N’ ROLL FRANKENSTEIN (1999)

Beware

This review isn’t too NSFW (we’d rate it PG-13 for penile synonyms), but the movie sure is. Kids shouldn’t watch Rock n’ Roll Frankenstein. Other people who shouldn’t watch Rock n’ Roll Frankenstein: people who care about movies or about being entertained.

(This movie was nominated for review by Brian O’Hara, director of Rock n’ Roll Frankenstein. Suggest a weird movie of your own here.)