Tag Archives: Bisexuality

IT CAME FROM THE READER-SUGGESTED QUEUE: THE 4TH MAN (1983)

De vierde man

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DIRECTED BY: Paul Verhoeven

FEATURING: Jeroen Krabbé, , Thom Hoffman, Dolf de Vries

PLOT: A writer prone to waking nightmares encounters a mysterious woman who he hopes to use to reach a man for whom he lusts, but realizes that his urges may have led him into a dangerous trap.

Still from The 4th Man (1983)

COMMENTS: A sentence that has never been uttered regarding the career of Paul Verhoeven is, “I admire his subtlety.” His whole ethos is big, bold, and blatant. That made him particularly well-suited to transition from European art cinema to American box office. His refusal to put limitations on his excesses would ultimately cause its own set of problems, but let’s turn the clock back to Verhoeven’s pre-Hollywood days, when his budgets were smaller but his subversive imagination was still unbounded. That’s where we find him making The 4th Man, the enjoyably twisty psychological thriller that raked in millions of guilders and punched the director’s ticket for greener pastures in the States.

Based on the novel by Gerard Reve, the film stars Krabbé as a writer named Gerard Reve. (“Reve” is the French word for “dream.”) Gerard has a suitcase full of issues, including unchecked alcoholism, a voracious bisexual appetite, a long-term relationship that now fills him with disgust, an alarmingly low bank account, and a devout Catholic faith. These elements combine early on to produce striking images—peepholes become eyeballs, blood pours down the walls of a train car—as Gerard slips into waking nightmares that deliver visions of impending death. These have a corresponding comical mirror image as Gerard is confronted with the reality of his visions, such as when a wreath on a casket bearing his name is pulled back to reveal the actual occupant. Whatever the cause, Gerard is an exposed fuse, ready to spark at any moment.

The match turns out to be Christine. An archetypal icy blonde, Soutendijk plays up the self-evident sweetness and innocence of the character, even as Gerard keeps uncovering evidence that she may be secretly sinister. (Careful observers of the opening credits will note that Verhoeven provides a pretty on-the-nose metaphor.) If anything, Gerard is the more obvious villain, tripping clumsily over his honest feelings (during sex, he covers her breasts and tells her she looks like a beautiful boy) and blatantly wagging his tongue at a beefcake photo of Christine’s occasional boyfriend Herman. As he dives deeper, though, he learns more about her past husbands and the circumstances of their collectively untimely demises. The ensuing battle between his uncontrollable urges and his devotion to the protective interventions he is certain are coming from God and the Virgin Mary will send him hurtling to the shocking and amusing climax.

A lot of the tricks Verhoeven pioneers here will return in his Hollywood ventures. His affection for cartoonish violence will appear in Robocop and Total Recall, the defiantly cavalier attitude toward sex is a hallmark of Showgirls, and the whole noirish plot feels like a rough draft of Basic Instinct. His most important trick, however, is his state of mind. There’s no subtext that can’t quickly become text, and the sheer outrageousness of Gerard’s plight is what keeps viewers in suspense. For a little while, this approach would make Verhoeven one of the more unpredictable directors to top the global box office. It’s nice to catch him at a time when his audacity still had an undercurrent of hunger.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“…so loaded with symbolism that the film leans toward camp… The 4th Man is one of the most audacious movies ever made, but the imagery isn’t just fancy trimmings because Verhoeven grounds the movie’s bizarre flights of fancy within the twisted yearnings and fears of Gerard’s mind.” – James Newman, Images Movie Journal (DVD)

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

The 4th Man (1983)

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    CAPSULE: THE HUNGER (1983)

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    DIRECTED BY: Tony Scott

    FEATURING: , Susan Sarandon, David Bowie

    PLOT: When her lover of many centuries begins rapidly aging, vampiress Miriam Blaylock seduces a gerontologist to revive him.

    COMMENTS: Catherine Deneuve. Susan Sarandon. Ann Magnuson. David Bowie. When your movie features some of the most attractive people around, it can’t help but look beautiful. Tony Scott’s directorial debut is a beautifully shot Eurotrash-style drama whose only parallel to his smash-hit sophomore effort is, perhaps, that it has some flying things: in The Hunger, there is what I dubbed “the Dove Room”, teeming with white birds; in Top Gun, there are some flying machines (and a character named after a bird). There the similarities just about stop—but not entirely. Though Scott’s oeuvre would lean heavily toward action-thriller after he was harvested by Don Simpson and Jerry Bruckheimer, a romantic sappiness pulsates through his first two films.

    The advertising featuring David Bowie is a bit misleading, seeing as his character dies (well, mostly) by the halfway mark. This is really the story of Miriam Blaylock (Catherine Deneuve, gloriously vague in a European kind of way), a vampire who originated at least as far back as ancient Egyptian times. Her man-squeeze John (Bowie, young and sexy, until he very quickly isn’t) seems to have lost the knack for eternal youth—a fate suffered by Miriam’s innumerable lovers beforehand. However, their final hedonistic days of early ’80s New York City party-fun-time do slow down enough to allow them to make the acquaintance of Doctor Sarah Roberts (Susan Sarandon, doing a wonderful job as the smoky-sexy scientist), whose research may relate to the sudden trouble suffered by hapless John.

    The Hunger starts in a nightclub, with the camera focused on a goth singer and his band performing behind a caged stage. Intercut with his exorbitantly vampiric lyricising are shots of Miriam and John picking up some gothed-out groupies and draining them dry. The pastiche of club life excess, luxury car excess, and sanguino-sexual excess nicely sets the mood, and acts as an early filter for the audience. If this is not what you want to be watching for the next eighty minutes, then The Hunger is not the movie for you. What follows is a semi-tragic romance, rapid aging in a doctor’s office, and some softcore lesbian sex (if you’re into that sort of thing). Ultimately, Scott’s movie reveals that perhaps the greatest hunger is a hunger for companionship…

    This is all very flip, but it’s hard not to be that way when discussing something as cheesy and stylishly overwrought as The Hunger, whose stylized nonsense and hyper-vampire-sexuality predates Interview with a Vampire by about a decade. (On film, anyway: apparently that bit of fluff-core had been in development since the early ’80s.) The only truly impressive element to be found is the make-up work on David Bowie; by the time you see John Blaylock morph from 30-something Bowie into just-about-decomposing Bowie, you’ll understand why Dick Smith’s credited with “make-up Illusions.” Otherwise, this film merely demands you grab some of the butteriest popcorn and reddest wine you can find and marvel at its wet dreaminess.

    WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

    “Dreamily photographed by Stephen Goldblatt and cryptically edited together by Pamela Power, nothing in The Hunger makes sense… like in that ludicrous advertisement for Britney Spears’s Curious perfume, sexual desire simply provokes postmodern psychotropic episodes.”–Ed Gonzalez, Slant (DVD)

    353. TEOREMA (1968)

    AKA Theorem

    “I have just seen something absolutely disgusting! Pasolini’s latest film, Teorema. The man is mad!”–Maria Callas, soon before accepting the lead role in Pasolini’s Medea

    DIRECTED BY: Pier Paolo Pasolini

    FEATURING: , Laura Betti, Massimo Girotti, Silvana Mangano, Andrés José Cruz Soublette,

    PLOT: After an introduction in which a worker is interviewed about the factory his boss just gave him as a gift, we see a bourgeois family receive an invitation saying that a visitor will be coming soon. It turns out to be a handsome but unnamed young American man; every member of the family, and even the maid, fall in love with him, and he sleeps with each of them in turn. Another telegram arrives saying that the stranger has been called away, and after he departs the family falls apart.

    Still from Teorema (1968)

    BACKGROUND:

    • Pier Paolo Pasolini originally planned Teorema as a play, but changed it to a screenplay because he believed there was not enough dialogue for it to work on the stage.
    • Despite Pasolini’s Marxism, the relatively liberal International Catholic Organization for Cinema awarded a jury prize to Teorema (as it had to his more conventional 1964 film The Gospel According to Matthew). Pope Paul VI personally criticized the award, and it was withdrawn by the organization.
    • As happened with many of Pasolini’s films, Italian authorities challenged Teorema as obscene. As always, the Italian courts eventually cleared it for public screenings after a trial.
    • Pasolini later adopted Teorema into a novel (which has not, to our knowledge, been translated into English).
    • Composer Giorgio Battistelli adapted the movie into an opera in 1992.

    INDELIBLE IMAGE: The proletarian saint hovering over her village church. The father, naked on the slopes of Mt. Etna, screaming at the heavens, is a close runner-up. We reject the idea that a closeup of Terence Stamp’s crotch in tight white pants is the most important visual symbol in the film, although we can see how someone might come to that conclusion.

    THREE WEIRD THINGS: Manspreading Stamp; levitating saint; naked, screaming pop

    WHAT MAKES IT WEIRD: Simply stated but open to endless interpretation, Pasolini’s Teorema operates on a strange logic of its own, a kind of triangulated synthesis of Marx, Freud, and Jesus Christ. Any movie in which God appears as a bisexual pretty boy has something weird going for it.


    British Blu-ray trailer for Teorema

    COMMENTS: It’s a happy coincidence that Teorema—the most Continue reading 353. TEOREMA (1968)

    LIST CANDIDATE: TEOREMA (1968)

    DIRECTED BY: Pier Paolo Pasolini

    FEATURING: , Laura Betti, Massimo Girotti, Silvana Mangano, Andrés José Cruz Soublette, Anne Wiazemsky

    PLOT: A mysterious guest sleeps with every member of a wealthy household, and when he leaves they come to strange, mostly tragic ends.

    Still from Teorema (1968)

    WHY IT MIGHT MAKE THE LIST: Mainly on the strength and reputation of its director, Pier Paolo Pasolini, a seminal figure in the Italian avant-garde scene of the 1960s and 1970s, who nonetheless has only a small handful of films that might qualify for the list of the 366 best weird movies. Teorema, while not his best known movie, may be the the poet-cum-director’s most mysterious parable, and therefore demands consideration.

    COMMENTS: Today, it’s hard to imagine the controversy that accompanied the relatively tame Teorema in 1966. The film was given an award by a left-leaning Catholic film board at the Venice Film Festival, then condemned by the Vatican for indecency. Despite containing no nudity or explicit sexual depictions, Teorema was brought up on obscenity charges in Italy. Some of Pasolini’s Communist brethren even criticized the film for its irreverent approach to Marxism and for its apparent religiosity. I imagine what really unnerved people at the time was the bisexuality of dreamy, blue-eyed Brit Terence Stamp, the movie’s mysterious visitor. A homosexual character would have been somewhat shocking in 1968, but a man who fornicates equally with men and women—and whose charms are irresistible to straight men—is far more threatening to sexual mores; it’s even more outrageous when it’s hinted that the pansexual visitor may be God. Teorema is schematic in structure: after a few introductory passages, including a long sequence done silent film-style, the plot settles down to a series of sexual encounters between the magnetic Stamp and the members of the household (mother, father, daughter, son, maid) where he stays as a guest, followed by an examination of their individual breakdowns after he leaves them bereft. Synopses invariably misreport that Stamp “seduces” the household, which is almost the opposite of Pasolini’s scheme here: each of the family members is attracted to the visitor on their own and seeks to seduce him. He initially rejects their advances, but quickly succumbs—he provides sex as an act of charity, or grace. When Stamp leaves, with as little explanation as was given for his arrival, the family falls apart. The pastimes they cling to to try to fill his absence—sex, respectability, money, art, even sanity—are revealed as empty and unsatisfactory. The housekeeper Elena, who retreats to her country village where she eats nettles and performs morose miracles, appears to escape the tragic fate of the others—although her end hardly seems more comforting than the father’s, who winds up naked and raving mad in the desert. What it all means is up for interpretation: despite delivering each plot point on time with mathematical regularity, Pasolini leaves out some essential step from his proof that would lead us to an irrefutable conclusion. I suspect the movie is mostly about the death of God and Pasolini’s notion that, with the decline of Christendom, the bourgeois class would implode from a lack of meaning in their lives. (If Pasolini is to be believed—and surely his tongue was tucked partially in his cheek when he gave this reductionist quote—the film’s message is that “a member of the bourgeoisie, whatever he does, is always wrong).” The snail’s pace and minimum of dialogue make the movie a bit of a chore to watch, and for all his concern with sensuality, Pasolini is no more than average as a visual stylist. True to its name, Teorema (Italian for “theorem”) is a dry theoretical film that’s more interesting to discuss afterwards than it is fun to watch.

    Astute 366 readers may note that Takashi Miike’s Visitor Q is basically an inverted (and perverted) version of Teorema.

    WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

    “The sort of moviegoer who thinks all movies must make sense — obvious common sense, that is — should avoid ‘Teorema.’ Those who go anyway will be mystified, confused, perhaps indignant.”–Roger Ebert, Chicago Sun-Times (contemporaneous)

    (This movie was nominated for review by “lo-fi jr.,” who called it “the most psychotically Catholic flick I’ve ever seen.” Suggest a weird movie of your own here.)

    LIST CANDIDATE: KABOOM (2010)

    DIRECTED BY: Gregg Araki

    FEATURING: Thomas Dekker, Haley Bennett, , Chris Zylka, James Duval

    PLOT: A sensitive college freshman experiences sexual awakening, stumbles upon a murder mystery, and uncovers secrets about his family while once in a while working on his film studies major, all set amidst scores of colorful visions, voodoo hallucinations, and sexy encounters.

    Still from Kaboom

    WHY IT MIGHT MAKE THE LIST: Kaboom is a tough one to pin down.  It takes a while to get a handle on itself, combining a wealth of different ideas and subplots that don’t quite add up, but it does command my respect with its delightfully trippy visual approach and boldly unhinged ending.  It must be said: this movie is definitely weird.  But is it List-worthy?

    COMMENTS: Enrolled in a clean and modern college replete with impossibly beautiful, voraciously horny undergrads, Smith (Dekker) has plenty of free time to sleep with or fantasize about most of the people he comes across.  While he becomes a surprise sex-buddy for the blunt and sexy London (Temple), his best friend Stella (Bennett) begins dating a real-life witch with a clingy personality.  Through many sexual escapades and relationship woes, a lingering murder mystery involving a scantily-clad redhead and some creepy men in animal masks worries Smith for months.  The more he delves into the puzzle, the more he seems to get konked on the head or chased by mysterious figures no one else sees.  And it all seems to tie into his recurring dream featuring those closest to him and a bright red dumpster.

    With its over-exposed, over-saturated cinematography and frequent use of dreams and hallucinations, Kaboom definitely finds its way into “surreal” territory.  The vibrant color schemes, kooky mod fashion, slightly pornographic sex scenes, and sarcastic one-liners belie the dark undertones involving mysterious killings and abductions, masked men, witchcraft, and a sinister doomsday cult.  This dichotomy can work against the film as a whole; the tone is uneven and the script flits back and forth with awkward attempts at cohesion.  However, seeing these distinct narrative halves somehow come together in a completely unexpected way makes for an admittedly compelling and memorable viewing.

    Kaboom has its drawbacks—dialogue that tries too hard to be funny, a few too many sex scenes (which I didn’t think was possible), some stilted performances—but I can’t say I didn’t enjoy myself.  Everything (and everyone) was just so pretty!  It gets weirder as it progresses, and it’s better for it, and the brash, unexpected ending definitely has a special effect on audiences (there was a good mix of “Huh…”, “Ha!”, and “What the hell?!” at my screening).  It is riddled with twists and turns, and is sure to keep anyone with a libido somewhat interested, but I’m still not quite sure just what to make of it.

    WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

    “Araki lets his absurdist imagination run wild, and ‘Kaboom’ takes the time-honored gambit of gradually revealing that nothing is as it seems to delightfully cockamamie extremes.”–Kevin Thomas, The LA Times (contemporaneous)