I Do Movies Badly

Black Christmas has earned its reputation as a seminal horror film, with Bob Clark's directorial choices and effective subversion of the Christmas holiday season establishing its influence for decades to come (especially in 2020, when this reviewer will be heavily inspired by I'll Be Gone in the Dark)

David Bax remains the only I Do Movies Badly guest to actively pitch me topics and thus, he returns for the second time in three months to discuss some Canuxploitation films - or, less fun, "tax shelter films" - in which our neighbors of the Great White North used tax laws to create genre films that were precursors to American genre films in more ways than one. There is, of course, some talk about the impending NHL playoffs and why they're a stupid idea, wading into the waters of questioning if Hamilton is a "movie" or not, and, obviously, the recommendations: Bob Clark's Black Christmas (1974), George Mihalka's My Bloody Valentine (1981), and Mark L. Lester's Class of 1984 (1982). 

Benson and Moorhead revisit the world that they established in Resolution with The Endless allowing them to explore more of the "what" of the entity controlling peoples' fates, but still neglecting to answer the "why" or "how."

Who'd have thought that it was a review from IMDb cluing me into how Resolution, a film that I initially wrote off as "two guys who did the best they could with what they had," was actually a meta parody of tired horror tropes that leaned into its budget restrictions rather than tried to work around them?

Benson and Moorhead's Spring is a marvelous exploration of suspense over surprise, focusing on two closed off characters whose world views of objectification stem from their vulnerabilities and fears of loss (even if its female lead is far more interesting than its male lead).

It only made sense to bring in the first pair of guests in IDMB history to converse about the first directing pair being covered in IDMB history! Jerry Smith and Mike Snoonian of The Pod and the Pendulum podcast join to discuss the films of indie genre pair, Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead. The boys first all check in to see how everyone is holding up and taking care of themselves as the COVID-19 pandemic rages on and protestors continue to demand police accountability and racial justice. Jerry and Mike talk about their personal creative journeys and how they joined together for The Pod and the Pendulum, they catch listeners up on the Cinestate fallout, and humorously relay the story of how $60 were mysteriously donated to Jerry one day out of the blue.  The two explain their deep love for the low-budget filmmaking duo who build genre elements around ultimately hopeful stories of love and relationships and gush about their three recommendations: Spring (2014), Resolution (2012), and The Endless (2017). Hor

Lone Star is, for better and for worse, an efficient encapsulation of the two things that make John Sayles films well, John Sayles films: his earnest filmmaking and his egalitarianism towards his characters.

Eight Men Out is a pretty faithful and earnest retelling of the 1919 "Black Sox" Scandal...to the film's detriment. More concerned with compiling a mostly historically accurate checklist of what transpired, perhaps Sayles' script would have been better served by another director who could have helped stoke the film's emotional core.

The protagonist in The Brother From Another Planet doesn't speak one word throughout the entire film, but allows the people that he meets and the neighborhood in which he meets them to tell us a more realistic picture of what it's like to be an immigrant assimilating into a city with a troubling history of racism.

He was tutored by Roger Corman like Coppola, Scorsese, and Dante. He's worked with actors like Chris Cooper, Matthew McConaughey, David Strathairn, and Angela Bassett. He's done script doctering on notable films like Apollo 13 and Mimic. He's received 2 Oscar nominations for screenwriting. He's John Sayles and, despite his prolific career, nobody talks about him. James McCormick of The Cast of Cthulhu returns to I Do Movies Badly to discuss the career of a writer/director who came up with the New Hollywood crowd, but neither hit the mainstream like Spielberg nor faded away like Rafaelson. The output of the man from Schenectady ranges from "low key" science-fiction to working class dramas and includes the three films James recommends: Brother From Another Planet (1984), Eight Men Out (1988), and Lone Star (1993).

With Man With a Movie Camera, Dziga Vertov pioneered many technical camera techniques (double exposure, superimposition, under/overcranking) that filmmakers would utilize regularly for decades to come as well as pioneering the cinéma vérité style. But can we talk about how the guy who's mantra was to capture "life as it is".....didn't do that with this film?

"Dedicated propagandist" Vsevolod Pudovkin introduces us to the plight of the poor and working class with Mother, a film that reminds us all that the phrase "eat the rich" was not a contemporary idea. 

It's back to film school with the discussion of Battleship Potemkin, a film that is almost 100 years old, yet pioneered many cinematic techniques that we're still seeing implemented regularly today (Montage! Invisible edits! Romanticizing a country's troubling history!). It's both an effective film and an effective piece of propaganda,

I Do Movies Badly returns from its month-long with David Bax of Battleship Pretension in tow (tug? Like a tugboat? That's a boat joke). It's been a while, so there's a good deal of catching up first including some talk on working and viewing habits in the pandemic, recapping my improvised marriage in the face of a shelter in place order, and revisiting the lost bet* that resulted in David choosing the topic of discussion.  That topic of discussion, by the way, is on Soviet silent films, which were ahead of their times in how they pioneered editing techniques (...and state funded propaganda). It's a return to film school as David recommends Sergei Eistenstein's Battleship Potemkin (1925), Vsevolod Pudovkin's Mother (1926), and Dziga Vertov's Man with a Movie Camera (1929).

Reed Morano month(s) goes out with a whimper instead of a bang. From box office receipts to tepid creativity, there is no way to describe The Rhythm Section other than a disappointment.  Reminder that I'm taking a hiatus for March, but I'll be back with a new guest, new theme, and a wife! In the meantime, head over to my other podcast, The Cast of Cthulhu, to get your fix!

It's 13 minutes before any words are spoken in I Think We're Alone Now, but by that time, we already know all we need to about the film's main character, his world, and how he sees his role in it. If you're unfamiliar with "film grammar," then you've no better introduction than this Reed Morano film.

The Skeleton Twins would have already been a great film thanks to the script from Mark Heyman and director Craig Johnson, but it's accentuated by the indelible mark that Reed Morano leaves on it with her emotionally evocative camerawork and lighting.

 Reed Morano's directorial debut is an immersive emotional journey into grief and pain, realized wonderfully by how the director/DP uses her camera. But emotion over logic doesn't always lead to satisfying conclusions.

New York-based DP/director Sean Meehan returns to IDMB to talk about another DP/director, Reed Morano! The conversation is a little more inside baseball than usual with some film school-ish explanations of the technical and creative considerations that go into being a DP (I learned where the term "color timing" came from!), but it transitions into an excellent conversation about why Morano was equipped to be a great director by first being a great DP.  Seeing Morano's third feature as director, The Rhythm Section hasn't yet been released, Sean had to get clever and recommend one film that she was lensing rather than directing, making January's titles: Meadowland (2015), The Skeleton Twins (2014), and I Think We're Alone Now (2018). Be sure to keep up with I Do Movies Badly on Battleship Pretension, Podbean, and Facebook

In this final episode of 2019, Jim talks a little bit about Dans Paris (not a fan), but mostly uses it to wax poetic about Christmas and how his life has changed, is changing, and will continue to change.   Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and Happy New Year to everyone!