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Apocryphally Weird

52*. ONCE WITHIN A TIME (2022)

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DIRECTED BY: Godfrey Reggio, Jon Kane                                                   

FEATURING: Sussan Deyhim, Apollo Garcia Orellana, Tara Starling Khozein, John Flax, Brian Bellot, Mike Tyson

PLOT: The Kindergarten of Eden, a pastoral playground populated by children and watched over by a majestic singing tree, is invaded by a devilish serpent in the form of technology. A technomage captures the attention of twins wearing wicker space helmets, and the quiet paradise is soon overrun with unpleasant imagery and mindless distraction. The children are encouraged to fight for their innocence and escape the fallen world with the help of a kindly mentor.

Still from once within a time (2022)

BACKGROUND:

  • Reggio is best known for directing the experimental landmark Koyaanisqatsi and its two sequels. Co-director Jon Kane was editor on Naqoyqatsi, the third in the series, as well as Reggio’s previous feature, Visitors (2013). Once Within a Time marks the 83-year-old director’s first foray into (sort of) narrative cinema.
  • The fifth feature collaboration between Reggio and composer Philip Glass.
  • The film was shot entirely at a soundstage in Brooklyn. Many of the sets are miniatures built by leading Broadway production designers Scott Pask and Frank McCullough, who found themselves sidelined from their usual stagework during the pandemic.
  • Although the movie relies heavily on digital technology, there is no 3D CGI animation. Digital rotoscoping was accomplished by human effects artists frame-by-frame.
  • The costumes designed by Machine Dazzle were included the artist’s first museum show at the Museum of Arts and Design in 2022.

INDELIBLE IMAGE: One of the first images in the film–Sussan Deyhim’s mother tree singing to the peaceful residents of her youthful utopia–is among its most memorable, but there’s a tableau that repeats throughout the movie to signal the world’s decline. In the center of this park sits a merry-go-round, and as the garden slips deeper into despair, new icons hover over the spinning wheel, most potently a syringe in which children swim about in an endless swirl.

TWO WEIRD THINGS: Commedia dell’emoji; The Mentor’s lesson in a boxing ring

 WHAT MAKES IT WEIRD: In finally choosing to create his own images instead of merely assembling them, Reggio does not disappoint. He takes the same green-screen and compositing technology used to create comic book blockbusters and makes the film that Georges Méliès (who gets a visual shout-out) undoubtedly would have produced, if given the tools. The result is a philosophical tone poem that blends a didactic lament for the world with a heartfelt embrace of handmade craft. It’s a mystifying wonder.

Original trailer for Once Within a Time

COMMENTS: At 52 minutes (which includes a lengthy endcrawl), Continue reading 52*. ONCE WITHIN A TIME (2022) →

It Came from the Reader-Suggested Queue, List Candidates

APOCRYPHA CANDIDATE: DREAMS THAT MONEY CAN BUY (1947)

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DIRECTED BY:

FEATURING: Jack Bittner

PLOT: Once Joe develops the power to observe his inner self and secures a lease for an office—not in that order, mind—he enters the dream-selling business.

Still from Dreams That Money Can Buy (1947)

WHY IT MIGHT JOIN THE APOCRYPHA: With the era’s avant-garde luminaries assembled here, you couldn’t swing a dead cat without hitting all of them as they worked on the set. One room, a mountain of oddball talent, and dreams, dreams, dreams.

COMMENTS: The title, the talent, not to mention the where…: Dreams That Money Can Buy is one of the most American movies out there. It’s behind its time—it’s ahead of its time; it bounces gaily, and turns on a dime. Calder and Cage, and , and Man Ray: devising the dreams for the money you’ll pay. Three years, seven dreams, one Manhattan loft—and anchored by Joe, with his Cagney-esque coif.

Of all the random titles I’ve stumbled across, Richter’s Dreams That Money Can Buy stands out like flower-child noir; like a Seussian corporate video; like… perhaps nothing I’ve seen before. The opening credits clued me in to the fact that this motion picture (from 1947? sure, sure) was going to be more than a little out there. It was a pleasant surprise—again, from the start—to find it such a jolly jaunt through the deep subconscious up into the luminescently tactile, with the occasional staccato of life in the ’40s.

Meet Joe: “Look at yourself: a real mess, you’re all mixed up; snap out of it! Get yourself fixed up. Even if poets misbehave, they always remember to shave. Say, what’s the matter, Joe? Something gone wrong? Is your head on wrong? No! It’s terrific! Here’s something on which you can really pride yourself: you’ve discovered you can look inside yourself. You know what that means? You’re promoted! You’re no longer a bum—you’re an artist!” And a businessman. He sells dreams of desire, techno-futurism, and identity. We meet a pamphleteer offering membership to the Society for the Abolition of Abolition, or Daughters of American Grandfathers. On-screen audiences mimic on-screen-on-screen performances. A full-wire tabletop circus delights and astounds. Glittering mobiles tickle light across the camera lens. Our hero disappears, briefly, after receiving a wallop from a thug demanding a lead on the races. But while you may have recovered, Joe, beware the poker-chip’s probing eye…

Dreams That Money Can Buy is jam-packed with surrealism and lightheartedness: always sprightly, but never saccharine. The sights and sounds evoke the dreamy past, and the hazy future. (The closing track, composed for this mid-’40s feature, sounds like an obscure B-side from the late ’60s.) More fun-house than art-house, Richter and his team gaily crash the dour columns of haute couture and build a wonder-world from the freshly minted tumble of rubble.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“…Hans Richter, nothing daunted, has plunged into the realm of the abstract, the subconscious and the immaterial for his ‘Dreams That Money Can Buy,’ a frankly experimental picture… A critical dismissal of this picture would be unfair, since it is a professed experiment and there are some things about it that are good. Many of the image constructions, while obscure, are surprisingly adroit, and the musical score by Louis Applebaum is often more eloquent than the screen. Obviously ‘arty’ in nature, it still tries for new ways to frame ideas. For that it is to be commended.”–Bosley Crowther, The New York Times (contemporaneous)

Dreams That Money Can Buy

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CAPSULE: ADULT SWIM YULE LOG 2: BRANCHIN’ OUT (2024)

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Adult Swim Yule Log 2: Branchin’ Out is available to stream for free (with commercials) on AdultSwim.com until January 8.

DIRECTED BY: Casper Kelly

FEATURING: , Michael Shenefelt, Sharon Blackwood, Asher Alexander, Jesse Malinowski

PLOT: The killer yule log is back and looking for Zoe, who finds herself stranded in the Christmasy town of Mistletoe, which is planning their first annual Yule Log festival: can Zoe overcome her fear of being bashed in the head by an evil flaming log and embrace the spirit of Christmas, finding love with one of town’s clumsy hunks?

Still from Adult Swim Yule Log 2: Branchin' Out (2024)

COMMENTS: Adult Swim Yule Log, which dropped without warning in December 2022, had serial killers, aliens, ghosts, and a miniature plantation owner who lived in a fireplace in addition to its centerpiece: a flying, flaming, homicidal yule log. This sequel, which dropped without warning in December 2024, seemed unlikely to top all that insanity. And, wisely, writer/director Caspar Kelly doesn’t even try: instead, as the insouciant subtitle suggests, he pivots from an absurdist comedy with genuine moments of horror to a flat-out comedy, delivering a work that simultaneously parodies horror sequels and Hallmark Christmas rom-coms, with just enough bizarre touches to keep the franchise on brand. The result is a film that, while not as constantly surprising and weird as the original, is every bit as entertaining and watchable.

There are some nods to the previous installment (a trip inside a refrigerator that mirrors the trip inside the fireplace, gratuitous cameo appearances by beloved characters in the last scene), but you do not have to have seen the first one to enjoy this: if you’ve seen any horror sequel and a trailer for a Hallmark Christmas movie, you’ll be up to speed in no time. In fact, forget most of what you know about the first movie and just think of the Yule Log as an immortal slasher like Michael Meyers or Jason (despite being the most ridiculous inanimate horror villain since the Death Bed). Zoe, the final girl of the part 1, was understandably traumatized by the experience, so much so that she now carries a woodcutter’s axe with her wherever she goes—a running joke that gets funnier as the movie goes on. Her obligatory gay best friend suggests she needs a change of scenery to leave the memory of the horror behind her. Unfortunately, due to bad luck and possibly the machinations of a man in a Santa suit (whose character I never actually figured out), she finds herself stranded in Mistletoe, a Christmas-loving town peopled mainly by clumsy hunks who make every stroll down Main Street a never-ending ordeal of meets cutes. The movie takes on a meta tone as Zoe realizes that she is in either a horror movie or a Hallmark movie—and that she has, to some extent, the power to chose between them. The cinematography neatly goes fullscreen and full color for the romcom sequences, then narrows the frame to letterbox format and darkens in grade when the horror is predominant. This motif is employed well so that it always surprises you when it happens—but then you forget about the dual format, and it surprises you again the next time it happens.

Although she was the putative protagonist of the first movie, Andrea Laing particularly didn’t stand out in what was more of an ensemble film. Here, she stretches and impresses as she switches back and forth between plucky horror heroine and emotionally vulnerable romantic lead. And writer/director Caspar Kelly proves he can succeed at whatever he sets his mind to. If you cut out the Yule log related elements to leave only the Hallmark parody, you’d have one of the wackiest comedies of 2024, something with genuine box office potential. Despite the fact that this odd little TV movie will be seen by relatively few, it would surprise me if neither Laing nor Kelly expanded their profiles after this. Laing has talent, and Kelly may be outgrowing the Adult Swim sandbox—it’s time to branch out. True, AS gives Kelly a blank check for whatever weird project that swims through his strange mind, which is commendable; but there is an entire non-basic-cable audience of cinephiles (i.e., feature film snobs) out there who are missing out on a real original’s demented creations. You can’t take the Christ out of Christmas (because who wants to sing mas carols and open mas presents under the mas tree?); but you can take the Adult Swim out of Adult Swim Yule Log. Can you imagine seeing Yule Log 3: Wreck the Halls, starring Andrea Laing, in the cinema in two years?

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“If you’ve ever wanted to see all the Hallmark ingredients (the skeptical “woman from the big city,” the supportive friend talking to her over Facetime, the interrupted kiss, the closing of the business followed by miraculous re-opening, leaving town but returning unexpectedly for love) but with some bizarre tangents, a bunch of death and some projectile vomiting, then merry Christmas to you. In between scenes like this there’s also a horror movie happening, with the flying yule log escaping from an evidence locker, blowing up the police station, stowing away on a family trip to try to chase Zoe to Mistletoe.”–Vern, outlawvern.com (contemporaneous)

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CAPSULE: PEDRO PÁRAMO (2024)

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DIRECTED BY: Rodrigo Prieto

FEATURING: Manuel Garcia-Rulfo, Tenoch Huerta, Mayra Batalla, Ilse Salas, Roberto Sosa, Dolores Heredia

PLOT: A man travels to the Mexican ghost town of Comala searching for his father, Pedro Páramo.

Still from Pedro Paramo (2024)
Pedro Páramo. (L to R) Tenoch Huerta as Juan Preciado, Mayra Batalla as Damiana in Pedro Páramo. Cr. Juan Rosas / Netflix ©2024

COMMENTS: Trekking through an endless expanse of desolate desert, Juan meets a man leading a train of burros. Juan explains that he’s going to Comala searching for his father, Pedro Páramo, to fulfill his mother’s dying wish. The traveler knows Pedro Páramo—pretty well, it turns out—but warns Juan that the village is deserted and his father is long dead. Juan nevertheless enters the town and finds lodging with a psychic woman who just happens to be an old friend of his mother’s (and, naturally, of Pedro Páramo). In the eerie silence of the abandoned town, strange things begin happening; then, with little forewarning, the movie shuttles us into flashbacks from Pedro Páramo’s life.

These flashbacks are presented in an entirely different style and tone from Juan’s experiences during what turns into an eternal night in Comala. The town is now drab, dusty, and decrepit, lensed in weathered browns and worn grays, but in its heyday it was lush and green and thriving. The flashbacks flow in a nonlinear stream, and there are brief moments of disorientation as the audience figures out who the characters are and at what stage of life; but the past holds no spectral magic, unlike Juan’s present. An unflattering portrait of Pedro Páramo emerges: an ambitious man, driven by greed and lust, who brings tragedy to the town. He fathers many children (mostly though seduction, adultery, and rape), kills many rivals, and has a contentious relationship with the town priest, who has as much reason to resent him as to fear him. Pedro Páramo seems to represent Mexico’s landed class, and will clash with a group of armed peasant rebels—although he chooses not to fight them, but tries to negotiate while hoping for a chance to betray them. You search in vain for a reason to like Pedro, but even his genuine loves, for a rapist son and for his childhood sweetheart, are tinged with perversity and instinctual evil.

While both parts of the film—the magical realist ghost story and the completely realist generational saga—are engaging in their own way, there is a serious imbalance between them that turns into a major flaw. The film is caught between two worlds, but chooses one over the other, as it abandons Juan’s mystical experiences in Comala at about the halfway point—just as they reach a peak coinciding with a vision of a cyclone of naked bodies spinning in the desert air over the town square. I am not sure how the original source novel handled the frequent switching between Juan and Pedro’s perspectives, but it feels wrong here; as we watch the second half of  Pedro Páramo’s story play out, we keep expecting to return to check in with Juan, and that never really happens. His absence is particularly hard to take if the part of the movie that really interests you was the encounters with the town’s many ghosts, rather than the tragic backstory.

This odd pacing decision is a blow to the film, but not a fatal one. By the time Juan disappeared from the story, I still wanted to see how his father turned out in the end. Like most petty tyrants, he comes to a bad end, but only after too long of a life spent enjoying the fruits his wickedness.

Pedro Páramo was adapted from a famous and influential 1955 Mexican novel by Juan Rulfo, which was lauded by writers like Gabriel García Márquez and Jorge Luis Borges. It has been adapted once before, for Mexican television. Prieto, the acclaimed cinematographer of Brokeback Mountain, Killers of the Flower Moon, and Barbie chose this novel as his feature directing debut. Naturally, the film looks amazing, and the cast of Mexican actors unknown north of the border put in excellent work, particularly the stoical Manuel Garcia-Rulfo in the title role. The film debuted at the Toronto Film Festival and then was snatched up by Netflix, who did it a disservice by not giving it a U.S. theatrical release (therefore making it ineligible for awards season consideration). At least more people will have the chance to view it on the mega-streamer—assuming they can find it buried in Netflix’s content graveyard, international art film quadrant.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“It’s hard not to get lost in ‘Pedro Páramo’ even as the movie eventually gets lost in itself, taking on a more classical cinematic form that doesn’t fully click. Thankfully, its surreal allure — buoyed by a sense of tragic longing — is powerful enough to echo throughout its runtime.”–Siddhant Adlakha, Variety (contemporaneous)

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CAPSULE: TOMIE (1998)

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DIRECTED BY: Ataru Oikawa

FEATURING: Mami Nakamura, Miho Kanno, Yoriko Dôguchi, , Kôta Kusano

PLOT: Tsukiko undergoes hypnotic therapy to recover lost memories of a recent traumatic event as her downstairs neighbor recorporealizes the living head of a murder victim.

Still from Tomie (1998)

COMMENTS: The creepiest element of this Japanese Horror film must be the title track—not the living head (and its body’s strange developmental trajectory), not the protagonist’s blood-soaked nightmares, not the troubling young fellow with an eye patch living on the floor below. Those are, for sure, all pretty creepy, though I was relieved to discover the cockroach sequence late in the film didn’t go full-on Cage. I was relieved, too, that the depths of creepiness plumbed by the plaintive song to Tomie were the deepest found in Tomie. There is a lot of creep, and it is all most satisfactory.

The plot allows for a solid hanger on which to rest the film’s mysteries and, we learn later, the legend of Kawakami Tomie. Most recently, Tomie’s driven about half of a high school class to either suicide or a mental institution. Tsukiko was a fellow student, and mysteriously (and I’d wager, fortunately) has blocked out a lot of her recent past—though she’s trying to recover memories with the aid of a hypnotherapist. This therapist has an encounter with a chain-smoking detective (a charismatically odd Tomorô Taguchi) who has been burdened with the unenviable task of wrapping up the murder investigation of Kawakami Tomie, with a lack of the victim’s head being among his sundry challenges. Tsukiko’s boyfriend lurks in the background, cheating on his girlfriend, trying to hold a band together, and earning his pay at a rinky-dink café.

This being the kind of movie it is, most of these characters are doomed from the get-go. But while navigating the plot line, Ataru Oikawa keeps things stylish, and refreshingly within the special effects constraints of the late ’90s. (Even those who normally eschew early CGI will have no complaints.) And while exploring the pair of protagonists—Tsukiko and Tomie—there is space for a few interesting ideas: the nature of victimhood, the importance of forgetting, and where lies the responsibility when one person “causes” another to violently lash out? Calmly paced, often unsettling, and capably performed, Tomie is an utter delight—resting head and shoulders above the competition.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“…a superior slice of modern Japanese horror, and one that benefits from spending a large amount of its running time exploring both its human and inhuman characters, creating a fascinating mythos that gives the film a surreal, almost dreamlike atmosphere.”–James Mudge, Eastern Kicks

Tomie [Limited Edition]

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