”Know what makes a criminal?”

Seesaw is a British television miniseries, divided into three parts, that explores the kidnapping of a teenage girl. Well-to-do business owner Morris Price (David Suchet) lives with his decorator wife, Val (Geraldine Price) and their three children in a huge sprawling house in the suburbs. Things have not always been easy for the Prices, but Morris has built his security business from the bottom up. When the film begins, the Prices pose in front of son Theo’s (Joseph Beattie) flashy sports car for a photograph.

Naturally, there’s rot inside the family structure, but it’s largely covered by material wealth. Val is harried by job demands and catering to clients, and she doesn’t have a great deal of time for her children. The Prices’ middle child Hannah (Joanna Potts) has a tendency to feel sorry for herself. She’s at an awkward age. Spotty and without a boyfriend, she considers herself fat and unattractive. She also feels resentful towards her parents and is convinced, at least on some level, that she’s neglected.

One evening, instead of doing homework, Hannah goes off to a nightclub, and she doesn’t return home….

About one third of the film is devoted to the kidnapping, and the family’s reactions to the kidnappers’ demands. The rest of the film is devoted to the far more interesting fallout. The film follows not only how the Prices cope, but also what happens to the kidnappers. The kidnappers are a mismatched pair–there’s the complex, dangerous, seductive Eva (Amanda Omms) who really belongs on the set of La Femme Nikita, and her somewhat unwilling but sexually entranced cohort Jon (Neil Stuke). Eva’s alarming obsession with tarty outfits is matched by her desire for material gain.

The film’s fault lies in some of the truly awful lines connected to the entire kidnapping/Stockholm Syndrome episode. Cheesy, clumsy, and clichéd, this section of the film–delivered in flashbacks–was enough to make me wince (I love you so much I could peel you inside out and lick your intestines. I know the real you, etc etc). That said, the film really excels at portraying the ugly dynamics of the Price family. Hannah’s kidnapping, for example, brings out the sibling rivalry between Hannah and her younger bratty sister Becky (Jade Davidson). As corrosive blame and guilt for the kidnapping and its fallout spreads throughout the family members, the family structure disintegrates. Just how the Prices cope with the aftermath of the kidnapping is original and believable.

Fans of British television mysteries should enjoy this drama. It certainly doesn’t follow the hackneyed plots of this type of story. Seesaw is directed by George Case and based on a novel by Deborah Moggach.

“The geography of ambition and love delayed, though not wholly denied.”

Red, a biography of Susan Hayward written by Robert LaGuardia and Gene Arceri takes the reader from this phenomenal actress’s poverty-stricken childhood in Brooklyn to her premature death from cancer at the age of 57. The authors weave together glimpses of Susan from many sources–friends, fellow actors and actresses and her long-estranged sister, Florence. Red paints a portrait of a woman of contrasts. Loathed by some fellow actors who considered her ‘cold’, we also see flashes of a woman who showed instances of remarkable kindness.

Susan Hayward was born as Edythe Marrenner in 1917 in Brooklyn, and grew up in the shadow of her glamorous older sister, Florence. Susan sustained and overcame a horrible, potentially crippling childhood injury. Showing tremendous strength of purpose, and remarkable willpower, Susan overcame considerable obstacles to become a model. She landed in Hollywood to screen test for Gone With The Wind.

Reading about Susan’s acting career illustrates just how bad the studio system was for actors and actresses. They all coveted contracts but then once they had a contract they were stuck, and talent certainly didn’t guarantee roles. Susan, groomed by her loyal agent Benny Medford, a man who stubbornly believed in Susan when no one else did, landed a contract with Warner Bros but was later dropped. She then signed with Paramount but managed to alienate studio heads with her outspoken public comments and complaints about her lack of roles. The studio subsequently withheld film roles as a punishment. Susan eventually managed to gain the recognition she so justly deserved with such films as: I’ll Cry Tomorrow, With a Song in My Heart, Smash-Up: The Story of a Woman, and I Want to Live, but in spite of these phenomenal successes, under contract to 20th Century Fox, Susan’s fame and talent were used to bolster the studio’s stinkers.

The book charts Susan’s personal life: her two marriages and her climb to success, and a suicide attempt. The final section of the book makes for difficult reading due to the subject matter: Susan’s struggle with alcohol, her illness, and death.

On the negative side, I don’t think enough credit was given to her early deprivation. Susan came from a very poor background, and I don’t think that was really addressed when comments appear about how “cheap” she was when it came to spending money. A great deal of the information about Susan comes from Florence, and the book makes it clear that there wasn’t much love lost between the sisters. Florence at one point notes that things were so bad at Susan’s home when she was married to first husband Jess Barker that their twin sons packed suitcases to leave (before Nov. 1947). For the time frame given the twins would have been 2-3 years old, so the packing of cases seems somewhat unlikely. These sorts of points are unchallenged by the authors. You can ask 100 people their opinions about someone they all know, and you are going to get 100 different answers. The book doesn’t address some of the apparently conflicting information about her. Why for example, did some people love working with Susan while others did not? Why did she apparently have problems with inter-personal relationships?

That said, Red, is an highly readable book that offers an account of Susan’s life–its triumphs and its tragedies. There are a lot of details here for any reader interested in understanding Susan’s career, and I particularly enjoyed reading the information regarding Susan’s favorite photograph of herself. It seems ironic that at first the biggest criticism of Susan’s acting ability was that she was unable to show emotion: “She has no heart.” But Susan worked intensely to overcome that and during the course of her career she delivered some of the most memorable and emotional performances ever in the history of Hollywood. The book details the enormous price she paid while throwing herself into her greatest roles. This is a portrait of a woman who was at times her own worst enemy–a woman who desperately wanted to be liked and loved but who often inadvertently alienated those closest to her. The book includes an index and a filmography of this remarkable star.

“Bugger right and bugger left.”

Faith–a made for British Television miniseries examines the murky world of politics and nature of ambition through a handful of characters. Faith has an excellent cast, and the acting is stellar, but the film is so morally bankrupt that its conclusion is a huge disappointment.

The film begins in Africa with the death of Helena Reckitt (Robin Weaver) a young, white woman who’s senselessly shot and killed by paramilitary forces who’ve been sold guns by a British arms dealer. Turns out the arms dealer may possibly be linked to M-I6, and it seems as though the government may have turned a blind eye to the sale of these weapons….

Helena’s pointless death is a small segment of the film, yet it turns out to have great significance as the story develops. The main action, however, concerns tabloid reporter Nick Simon (John Hannah). With job cuts at the paper, there’s pressure to produce headlines from his vicious boss (Connie Booth). One night, Nick goes on a blind date with Holly Moreton (Susannah Harker). She tells Nick that her famous politician father, Peter Moreton (Michael Gambon) is having an affair with his secretary. This information creates a dilemma for Nick. Should he use the info and land a sensational, career-building story, or should he keep his mouth shut and develop his promising relationship with Holly?

The rest of the film is devoted to twists and turns as Helena Reckitt’s family tries to pursue some type of ‘justice’ for their daughter in the trial of the arms dealer, and the tabloids sink their teeth into Moreton’s private life. The dealer’s defense is that he worked for MI6, and that the government knew he was selling the guns. Moreton, as it turns out, is deeply involved, and he’s pivotal to the case.

Moreton, played by the very skilled actor, Michael Gambon, is portrayed as a rather disgusting person. While to the public eye, he’s often seen as the “moral voice” of his political party, in his private life, he’s snide, cynical and elitist. He views the death of Helena as a nuisance–almost as though she deliberately got in the way of a bullet just to cause him aggravation.

Through a series of events, Moreton experiences an epiphany that is utterly unbelievable. Given his earlier behaviour, it’s ludicrous to hear his whining about how he sacrificed his family for the sake of his political party. But what’s even more incredible is the inherent racism displayed by this character and simply swept under the rug by the plot. You see, as it turns out, to Moreton it’s perfectly ok for the government to sell guns to African paramilitaries to fuel wars, but it’s NOT ok for a WHITE UK citizen to be deliberately killed by guns provided by the same British gunrunner. The film fails to examine or even bother with the morality of selling guns to kill Africans. It’s the deliberate murder of a white UK citizen that brings about Moreton’s epiphany–the Africans don’t even enter into the equation. Once Moreton goes through the moral motions of realizing his mistake over the death of Helena, he’s suddenly one of the script’s “good guys.” This sudden moral redemption is shallow and yet we seem to be supposed to take Moreton’s remorse seriously.

The plot’s twists and turns, one lot of people screwing over the other lot of people only serve to illustrate the complete and utter moral bankruptcy of everyone involved. There are no heroes here, and it’s hard even to care for the ‘hero’ Nick. Morally bankrupt and soulless, Faith is so out of whack it fails to recognize its own white imperialist, privileged white message. From director John Strickland.

“You see things you thought were clues. Turns out they weren’t.”

Set in the frozen landscapes of a wintery Haddan, Massachusetts, The River King casts actor Edward Burns as small town policeman Abel Grey. Abel and his partner are called out to investigate a report of a body found in a frozen lake. The body is Gus Pierce, a student from an exclusive prep school located on the outskirts of town. Gus was a loner who never really fit in, and his one close friend was fellow student Carlin Leander (Rachelle Lefevre). Teachers at the school, with the exception of Betsy Chase (Jennifer Ehle) act as though the police investigation is a nuisance. But to make matters worse, Abel is railroaded into accepting Gus’s death as a suicide.

I like Edward Burns. Can’t explain it, but there’s just something about his screen presence. His performances are sincere and believable, but apart from that he is one of America’s directors who’s still trying to say something outside of the Hollywood machine. In The River King, Burns is excellent, and the fact that the story is told through his troubled eyes bolsters the film tremendously. With a subtle and typically low-key performance, Burns conveys discomfort and nagging doubts throughout an investigation marred by class and corruption. The film slides into clichés when uncovering the nasty little frat boy initiation ceremonies, but then that sort of silliness is clichéd no matter how you look at it.

While corruption rules, and an old-boy network effectively ensures that cover-ups continue, the film slides away from the less subtle predictability of plot, and instead lands squarely on the issue of the weight of guilt. Guilt and its long-term consequences lead Abel to make a decision, and whether or not he has the ‘right’ to make this decision is at the heart of this beautifully photographed film. Incidentally, the photography is from Paul Sarossy (The Sweet Hereafter and Affliction). Frozen landscapes covered in snow and sub-zero temperatures reflect some of the characters’ frozen emotions. Both Abel and his father carry a burden of guilt, but they refuse to examine it and they have chosen to ignore it for various reasons. The death of Gus Pierce, however, forces Abel, at least, to confront his guilt and grief over the death of his brother.

As it turns out, there’s a significance to Abel’s first name, and this is an issue the plot chooses not to explore directly, but the subtext exists for those who catch the Abel/Cain connection. The River King wisely leaves this reference and its inferences for the audience to catch. Supernatural elements are also weaved through the story, but again, this is delicately done, and so we never really know if these moments really exist or are simply ghosts of the past.

Abel’s final decision is beautifully played, and I couldn’t help but compare this to the preachy deliverance of a fateful decision in Ben Affleck’s film Gone Baby Gone. Towards the end of Gone Baby Gone, Casey Affleck and Morgan Freeman hash out their respective moral positions ad nauseam in a scene that’s unbelievable, heavy handed and far too lengthy. The River King leaves the moralizing and the argument as to whether or not Abel has the ‘right’ to assume the responsibility of his actions to the viewer. Director Nick Willing obviously thinks his audience is intelligent enough to work out the intricacies of Abel’s behaviors for ourselves. Personally I prefer subtlety, and so I appreciate The River King’s low-key style, even if it has a less-than perfect story. Based on a novel by Alice Hoffman.

“They just got lost coming home.”

Five Days is a gripping BBC/HBO miniseries that covers five days of a police investigation for a missing woman. This superb, well-acted drama is something you can really get sink into. When the film begins, attractive housewife and mother Leanne Wellings (Christine Tremarco) leaves with her youngest two children to complete some errands. After adopting a dog from the local animal shelter, Leanne stops to buy some flowers from a roadside stand. With her two young children watching from the car, Leanne simply… disappears….

Five Days is by no means just a standard mystery. Instead this lengthy miniseries, with its emphasis on interpersonal relationships, takes the time to examine the fallout of Leanne’s disappearance on her family. Grief, stress and guilt tear the family apart, and long held grievances that were buried now simmer and rise to the surface–sometimes with explosive results. Five Days examines the mystery from every imaginable point of view–the community, the media frenzy, the police, and the grieving family and friends. And while there is suspense by the gallon, it’s the emotional fallout from this tragedy that’s so riveting.

Leanne’s personal trainer husband, Matt (David Oyelowo) struggles to maintain some sort of composure, but he’s quite aware that he’s a prime suspect. As is the case with most marriages, Matt and Leanne’s relationship wasn’t perfect, and now that she’s missing the problems are scrutinized. They were plagued with financial problems, and there are rumours of infidelity. Leanne’s parents instead of turning to each other for support feud over a number of issues, and Leanne’s bratty teenage daughter Tanya (Lucinda Dryzek) from an early marriage turns on everyone within spitting distance. Meanwhile Sarah (Sarah Smart) a lonely young woman with issues of her own wheedles her way into Matt’s household through her relationship with one of his children. Her presence acts as a catalyst for many emotions, and some family members see her as an intruder and resent her.

By the time the film concludes, various aspects of the case haunt everyone involved in the investigation. One reporter builds his career on Leanne’s disappearance, and loyalties within the police department are sorely tested. If you enjoy well-acted British television or mysteries, then don’t miss this one. I really enjoyed the approach of this film; each of the five episodes focuses on one day in the investigation, and by choosing to focus on just five days of this lengthy, involved investigation, we see the beginning, a frenzied middle, and then witness the family’s despair as the trail grows cold and detectives are pulled from the case. My only complaints are the number of plot coincidences that defy statistical probability, and the solution to Leanne’s disappearance was well–flimsy, at best–and that was a shame given the depth of other aspects of this excellent drama. Directed by Otto Bathurst and Simon Curtis

Director Brian Standing (War is Sell, Pedalphiles), and founder of Prolefeed Studios kindly sent a list of his 12 favorite documentaries. And here they are–along with Brian’s comments on the films:

1. Gap-Toothed Women (Les Blank, 1987)
www.lesblank.com/more/gap.html
Les Blank is a huge influence for me, not just for his
joyous documentary style, but also for the way he has
successfully remained completely independent of the
Hollywood/television system. I love all of his films,
but this curious exploration of the nature of beauty
is the one that sticks with me the most.

2. Fast, Cheap and Out of Control (Errol Morris, 1997)
www.errolmorris.com/film/fcooc.html
Another huge influence on my work. Morris is best
known for the Thin Blue Line, and of course for The
Fog of War, which won an Academy Award. This film,
however, for me completely redefines how a documentary
can look. Masterful storytelling that starts simply
and gradually ventures into more and more metaphysical
territory.

3. Lessons of Darkness (Werner Herzog, 1992)
www.wernerherzog.com/main/index.htm
Together with Blank and Morris, Herzog completes my
holy trinity of documentary filmmakers. (The three of
them, by the way, are close friends. Their film lives
intersect in Les Blank’s Werner Herzog Eats His
Shoe, in which Herzog settles a bet that Morris would
never complete his first film, Gates of Heaven.) In
Lessons of Darkness, Herzog recasts the Kuwait oil
fires left behind by the retreating Iraqi army as a
science fiction movie. Hypnotic, disturbing and
occasionally very funny.

4. Six O’ Clock News (Ross McElwee, 1994)
www.rossmcelwee.com/sixoclocknews.html
I usually don’t care for the “video diary” school of
filmmaking. I prefer filmmakers to stay in the
background. I make an exception for Ross McElwee,
because he’s such a weird, obsessive personality. 6
O’Clock News finds McElwee trying to discover what
happened to people after their 15 minutes of fame.

5. Salesman (Albert & David Maysles, 196
Together with Primary, this film cemented the
Maysles brothers as the American masters of
documentary cinema. Brilliant editing, intimate
cinematography and a deeply cynical worldview make
this one of the few acknowledged “classics” that
really deserve the term.

http://www.mayslesfilms.com/companypages/films/films/salesman.htm

6. Rainbow Man/John 3:16 (Sam Green, 1997)
www.samgreen.to/trm.htm
Sam Green was nominated for an Academy Award for The
Weather Underground, but for my money, this is his
masterpiece. Rollen Stewart, the omnipresent Rainbow
Man who showed up in the stands in nearly every
sporting event was eventually arrested on federal
kidnapping charges. His rise, decline and fall serves
as a cautionary tale for anyone who’s ever watched too
much T.V.

7. This is Nowhere (Douglas Hawes-Davies, 2002)
www.highplainsfilms.org/fp_nowhere.html
Doug Hawes-Davies’ High Plain Films has established a
reputation for lyric, beautifully photographed odes to
the natural environment. In This is Nowhere, Davies
breaks with his usual subject matter to interview the
drivers of recreational vehicles (A.K.A. “land
yachts”) who travel the country, from WalMart to
WalMart, to sleep in the parking lots of Sam Walton’s
retail empire.

8. Theremin: An Electronic Odyssey (Steven M. Martin,
One 1995)
www.mgm.com/title_title.php?title_star=THEREMIN
The great appeal of documentaries for me is the
process of discovery. You never know where the story
is going to take you. In Theremin, it’s easy to
imagine the filmmakers nudging each other, saying “Can
you believe this?” as the story unfolds before their
camera. It starts out as a simple historical
documentary about the creation of the world’s first
electronic instrument, but quickly turns into a
first-class cold-war thriller.

9. Harlan County, USA (Barbara Koppel, 1976)
www.cabincreekfilms.com/films_harlancounty.html
Another direct-cinema “classic” that deserves all the
praise that has been heaped upon it. Koppel’s
fly-on-the-wall view of a 1974 West Virginia coal
miner’s strike set the vocabulary for activist movies,
but still manages to surprise.

10. Time and Tides (Julie Bayer & Josh Salzman, 2006)
www.wavecrestfilms.com//#/timetide/
I saw this film when I served as a juror for the 28th
Big Muddy Film Festival, where we unanimously voted it
the best documentary feature. Lyrical cinematography,
themes of globalization, cultural preservation, the
internet economy and global warming, all wrapped up in
a multi-layered, well-told story, with rich
compassionate characters. Absolutely stunning.

11. The Last Cowboy (John Alpert, 2005)
www.dctvny.org/productions/last_cowboy.html
This was the runner-up for best documentary at the
28th Big Muddy Film Festival. Alpert, an
award-winning war correspondent, spent 24 years
turning his camera on Vern Sager, one of the last to
make a living herding cattle in the American West.

12. Through the Wire (Pip Starr, 2002)
http://web.mac.com/pipstarr/starr.tv/Misc/Entries/2002/3/28_Through_the_Wire.html

Pip’s a filmmaker from Melbourne Australia, whom I met
several years ago when he was filming a documentary
about coffee. Through the Wire is a short piece
that had its North American premiere at my now-defunct
monthly film screening Electric Eye Cinema (also one
of the first practical uses of video on demand over
the internet, many years before YouTube). Through
the Wire is the best example of an activist film I’ve
ever seen, a brilliant use of imagery and voiceover.

One other thought on the topic of documentaries.  My
favorite book on the topic is “Documentary” by Eric
Barnouw. A great summary.

http://www.amazon.com/Documentary-History-Non-Fiction-Erik-Barnouw/dp/0195078985

“Shoot, Shovel and Shut up.”

The lively, thought-provoking documentary film Here, Kitty, Kitty from director Andy Beversdorf examines a 2005 proposal to deny feral cats in Wisconsin legal protection and instead allow them to be shot on sight. This is one of those things you hear about and wonder if people have taken leave of their senses. The proposed law can most certainly be filed under the heading what the HELL were they thinking?

In April 2005, in Wisconsin, Mark Smith proposed redefining free roaming feral domestic cats as an unprotected species. This proposition, with its accompanying argument that feral cats were responsible for decimating the bird population in rural Wisconsin, would permit the shooting of cats who appeared outdoors without the direct supervision of owners or without collars. The highly controversial proposition attracted worldwide attention and was known as Question 62. Obviously, the proposed law was fraught with problems and potential abuse, but some saw Q 62 as “doing the state of Wisconsin a favour.”

Question 62: “Do you favour the DNR (Dept. of Natural Resources) take steps to define free roaming feral domestic cats as an unprotected species?” appeared before the Wisconsin Conservation Congress. Although the measure passed by 6,830 to 5,201, the Executive Board of the Conservation Congress did NOT recommend Q62 to the Wisconsin legislature. Some of those involved noted (and rightly so) that to adopt a law stating that it was ok to shoot cats would make Wisconsin a laughing stock.

In spite of the fact that Here, Kitty, Kitty is ostensibly about the fate of cats, the film which examines both sides of the emotionally charged Q62 debate, surprisingly is about people, and by extension the varied ways in which we view animals. Here, Kitty, Kitty captures the high drama of the public hearings and owes a great deal to its engaging interviewees. Some of those interviewed care passionately about cats; others regard them as vermin. And when these attitudes collide, naturally, it gets ugly….

Pet shop owner and cat lover Ted O’Donnell appears throughout the film as a spokesperson for the grassroots movement created to fight Q 62. Articulate and sincere, O’Donnell argues against the proposed change stating that the law lacks “common sense” and is fraught with “isolated logic.” While O’Donnell rips into Q 62, Professor Stanley Temple, an avian ecologist, and former professor of Environmental Studies at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, thoughtfully explains how he had “nothing to do with the proposal” but that when his research was used as a “justification” for Q62, he began to receive death threats.

Retired farmer Gordon King from Lincoln County stoked the controversy when it was discovered that he captured and subsequently drowned a mother cat and her kittens who wandered onto his property. Arguing that he was a follower of environmentalist Aldo Leopold, King justifies cat killings with an illogical argument: “How many people know enough about the life of animals to even be able to make any kind of a decision as to how to put them down?”

In spite of that statement, King evidently felt that he DID know enough to make that decision, and stating, “It doesn’t take any experience to drown things,” he admits that he drowned the cats. With the volatile and emotional debate raging in Wisconsin, King’s case received a great deal of attention, but amazingly, the DA’s office chose not to pursue charges against King. And this, of course, may lead one to the logical conclusion that it’s perfectly ok in Wisconsin to drown cats….

Curious, I did a google search of cat drownings, and discovered many cases across the country in which people were successfully prosecuted for the same action. I don’t live in Wisconsin, so call me crazy, but the drowning of cats is not acceptable. Period.

There’s a great deal of information packed here in 62 minutes–an interview with a hobby farmer who owns a number of plump well-fed and neutered cats, Stanley Temple’s fascinating research on feral cats (”an exotic non-native predator”) and the decimation of the bird population in rural Wisconsin, and also coverage of a Trap, Neuter, Return (TNR) programme which attempts to help control the stray cat population. The film’s strongest section is the juxtaposition of clips of Ted O’Donnell and Stanley Temple as they present their opposing arguments.

All fascinating stuff. As of 3/08, Here, Kitty, Kitty is not available for commercial release. As for me, I love cats, but I don’t expect my neighbours to, so my cats stay inside safe and sound. Watching the film reinforces the idea that not everyone loves cats and reminds me exactly why I decided to keep my cats inside in the first place.

For more information on Here, Kitty, Kitty go to www.prolefeedstudios.com

“I know a wonderful psychiatrist with a perfectly divine strait jacket just your size.”

After reading that The Tingler is on director John Waters’ top film list, this made it a must-see for me, and I wasn’t disappointed. Campy and strange–nonetheless, The Tingler is a surprisingly good film. It’s from William Castle, perhaps cinema’s most eccentric director, and The Tingler is considered one of this cult director’s best. It would be so easy to dismiss this film as campy fun, but it’s really much more than this. It’s a very well crafted exercise in weirdness.

There are only two normal people in the film, and their roles are kept to a minimum and serve as a contrast for the film’s collection of bizarre characters. Vincent Price as gently spoken, well-mannered pathologist William Chapin heads the cast. Chapin has theories of the “fear tensions” within the human body, and he’s long since come to the conclusion that the “force of fear” unleashed in the human body can result in the cracking of vertebrae. At the beginning of the film, he becomes convinced that there’s actually something physical living in the base of the spine–a parasitic creature known as The Tingler that grows with the host’s exposure to fear. Chapin’s theory is that screaming releases these tensions and ultimately this freezes or immobilizes the Tingler, thus saving humans from dying of fear. Obviously proving the Tingler’s existence by examining the spinal cords of people who are either paralyzed by fear or who die of it, is not an easy matter, but then again, Chapin is a pathologist….

The film begins with a terrified man being dragged screaming down a hallway to his execution by two prison guards. A few minutes later, a body on a gurney is wheeled into the autopsy room, and here pathologist Dr. Warren Chapin (Vincent Price) proceeds to conduct an autopsy on the dead man. And this is where the film begins to get bizarre–the dead man’s brother-in law, Ollie Higgins (Philip Coolidge) stands by and watches Chapin perform the autopsy. Now perhaps Chapin performs autopsies on a regular basis, but this must be a unique experience for Higgins, who owns a cinema that caters to silent film. But the two men have a nice calm chat while Chapin carves up the corpse, and by the time he’s done, Chapin and Higgins have established enough rapport for Higgins to ask for a lift home.

Higgins introduces Chapin to his wife Martha (Judith Evelyn) who just happens to be a deaf mute. When Chapin discovers that Martha also has a terror of blood, he realizes that he has the perfect subject–someone with a built in mechanism for terror who cannot release her “fear tension” through screaming…

The Tingler hits all the right notes to create a very strange tale with a very bizarre tone. Peculiar things take place in the film, but the characters all act as though these things are perfectly normal. Chapin’s assistant, for example, is running around town kidnapping animals to serve as guinea pigs for Chapin’s latest wacko experiments. All the characters in the film accept this as perfectly normal, and the film’s insistence on the normalcy of outrageously bizarre behaviour is a tactic that Castle uses within the film many times–Higgins attending the autopsy of his brother in law, for example. Higgins should express at least some distaste of the autopsy. He could turn away, vomit, or even faint. These reactions would all be within the range of normal for a person who’s attending the autopsy of a relative. But instead Higgins doesn’t even swallow hard–he’s perfectly at home in the autopsy room watching his brother-in-law get carved up. This presentation of the bizarre with the ho-hum reaction to an every day event creates the atmosphere of a lunatic asylum. As we watch the story unfold, we realize that what is happening is not normal, but it’s presented by the characters as perfectly acceptable. The dissonance between normal and abnormal created by the film forges a fascination between the audience and the film characters. Just how far off the deep end is Chapin prepared to go? Do his gentle, refined manners and voice mask the mind of a madman?

This acceptance of the abnormal as normal is also demonstrated in the two marriages depicted in the film. These marriages are pathological and laced with murderous intent, but this is masked by the politics of polite behaviour, so that leaves only two people in a ‘normal’ relationship–courting couple, Chapin’s sister-in-law, Lucy (Pamela Lincoln) and Chapin’s lab assistant David (Darryl Hickman). Chapin’s first appearance in the old homestead immediately establishes marital discord when he addresses Lucy with the heavily sarcastic question “where is my darling wife?” Isabel, who obviously doesn’t trouble herself with putting hot meals on the table for hubbie appears some time later. Isabel Chapin (Patricia Cutts) seems to be a very unsuitable partner for Chapin. Sexy, blonde Isabel has the naughty habit of floozing out on the town with a series of strange men.

Another tactic used by Castle is that most people (with a few notable exceptions) in the film remain perfectly calm–almost frustratingly so. They should be objecting, refusing, questioning, but they tend to very calmly go along with the action, accepting the nuttiness as everyday stuff.

The Tingler really is a very clever film. The first time I watched it, I loved it, but the second and third times, I began to really appreciate it. The first time through, for example, the film leads us to certain conclusions about Chapin’s character, and with subsequent viewing, I came to appreciate Castle’s manipulative skill a great deal more.

Anyway, thanks to John Waters for pointing me towards this gem of a film. The DVD is excellent quality, by the way–in black and white–except for one scene that contains…well, a lot of red. The picture is clear and crisp, but the whole package is so well put together with some interesting extras, including an introduction by William Castle. Well worth the purchase, but I still wish I could persuade someone to release a version of The Tingler with commentary from John Waters.

“Scream for your lives. The Tingler is loose in the theatre!”
“Don’t tell me you’ve abandoned corpses for peeping out of windows.”

“Best line my tummy so’s I’m able to perform.”

Australians always manage to create some of the most demented comedies I’ve ever seen, and Around the World in 80 Ways from director Stephen MacLean makes my list of top 10 all-time great comedies.

Wally Davis (Philip Quast), who according to his dad has “gone funny,” owns and operates a tour bus and runs a beachfront trailer/cafe shaped like a giant banana. After the trailer is repossessed, Wally heads home with the plan to raid the family savings account, but Mum, Mavis Davis (Diana Davidson) leaves for a long-desired whirlwind world tour dumping Dad, geriatric Roly Davis (Allan Penney) at the Twilight Rest Home as she heads for the airport. Wally’s dad suffers from “galloping senility” and has “started boring himself to death” thanks to a treacherous blow delivered by neighbour and former business partner the portly, toupee toting, used car salesman Alex Moffat (Rob Steele).

As Mavis Davis departs on the low budget tour that becomes the holiday package tour from hell, her lustful neighbour Alex Moffat unexpectedly joins her. Meanwhile Wally springs Dad from the rest home with the help of his younger brother Eddy (Kelly Dingwall), an “unemployable tragedy”, but all Dad wants to do is set off in hot pursuit of his wife arguing that Moffat, his rival, neighbour and ex-business partner,”pinched my business and now he’s trying to pinch my Mrs.”

But there’s a BIG problem….Wally needs the money in Dad’s savings account to bail out his trailer from repo. So instead of spending the savings on a world tour to catch Mavis, Wally and Eddy improvise. Since Dad only has 2% vision, they simply PRETEND to travel the world in pursuit of the ever-moving Mavis. Stops on the travel tour include: Hawaii, Las Vegas, Rome and Japan, and Wally creates all of these countries aided and abetted by Eddy, his sound system, Nurse Ophelia Cox (Gosia Dobrowolska), and a small army of inflatable dummies. Oh, and Wally ‘borrows’ Moffat’s “Wedding Cake of a house” named “Tara Moffat” for his world tour. While Mavis is dragged across the world, enduring one miserable experience after another, Roly Davis has the time of his life at home.

You have to see this film to believe it–some of the best scenes, for me at least, are in “Las Vegas” when Wally is both a chorus girl and Elvis, and the way in which Wally creates fake flights and airports is brilliant, amazing, and hysterically funny. And take a good long look at the tour guide, Lotta Boyle (Judith Fisher)–she looks uncannily like Hilary Clinton. The way in which the film juxtaposes the real tour with the fake tour is brilliant, but beneath all this comedy, there’s a motto here: you don’t have to travel the world to have the time of your life. If you loved Muriel’s Wedding or Welcome to Woop Woop you will enjoy this insane comedy film too.

“I was reminded of an abbatoir.”

The Sculptress is a made-for-British television film based on the suspense novel by Minette Walters. The film’s protagonist is grief stricken author Rosalind Leigh (Caroline Goodall) who’s having difficulty coping with her daughter’s death. Rosalind is asked to write a book on an infamous murderess known as the Sculptress, and this is a nickname the killer was given by the tabloids for the nasty manner in which she carved up her mother and sister. The crime was so brutal, that the policeman who discovered the bodies passed out at the sight of the crime scene. He left the force shortly afterwards.

Facing a tight deadline, Rosalind goes to the prison to meet the Sculptress, a large young and hostile woman named Olive Martin (Pauline Quirke). Olive was found guilty of the heinous crime, and although she’s never denied her responsibility, her motive remains unclear. Most people chalk up the killings to Olive’s jealousy of her much prettier, slim sister, but a few people believe that Olive loved her sister too much to brutally murder her. Five years after the crime, there is still no solid motive. Olive is a sly, craftily intelligent woman who capitalizes on the fear she generates. Rather unlikable, she possesses an uncanny ability for reading other people, and in a parasitic fashion, Olive discovers and dwells on Rosalind’s pain. Rosalind and Olive’s relationship is not smooth. Olive realizes that Rosalind just wants a story, and Rosalind suspects that Olive is manipulating her.

Olive is the product of a dysfunctional family. And while there’s rot aplenty, just what is relevant and what is irrelevant is a matter for Rosalind’s investigation. As the film unfolds, and Rosalind begins her research for her book, she gradually comes to the realization that Olive is innocent. Rosalind discovers that witnesses are remarkably reluctant to tell their stories. There’s Olive’s lawyer–a man who’s supposed to want the best for his client, but he’s very happy with Olive under lock and key. Then there’s Olive’s mysterious lover. But then there’s Olive herself, and at times she’s her own worst enemy. When she’s not playing with Rosalind’s mind, she’s teasing the prison vicar and pinching his candles for nefarious purposes.

As the plot thickens, the story becomes bogged down in some additional complications. Rosalind’s ex husband is thrown into the plot, and the complications involving Olive’s estate unfortunately engulf the solution of the grisly crime. For fans of British mysteries, however, The Sculptress is worth catching. From director Stuart Orme