So, I got Gothika from Netflix for someone, and found myself with some free time, so I'd make use of it. I didn't expect much and it didn't betray those expectations. Run-of-the-mill thriller with plenty of loud, startling jolts and creepy visuals. Nothing you haven't seen before. The movie was extremely boring and full of cliches, but two things made it worth watching; Matthew Libatique's photography, and the fact that I kind of wanted to see how it ended up. Of course, I got a disappointing, hack-job of an ending. Not a good movie, but I've seen much worse.

Thieves' Highway

I've recently fallen for the films of Jules Dassin. I saw Brute Force a while back and loved it, and over the past couple months, have seen Rififi and Night and the City, both masterpieces. So naturally, I had to check out Thieves' Highway.

It's the story of a man, Nico, who arrives home after a trip around the world, repairing ships. He's in good spirits and brings home presents for everyone and a ton of money. The mood's soured, though, when he finds out his Father's been injured badly and has been swindled more than once. He confronts the man who bought his Father's truck and never paid, and learns about a job the guy's setting up, hauling apples to a market in San Fransisco, which, conveniently, is where the man who hurt his Father works.

It's really a great movie. The plot is top-notch, and moves at a great pace, never failing to hold your interest. You'll actually learn a few things about long-haul trucking and fruit markets, since the film presents it all so vividly. As usual, Dassin really does a great job of putting you right in the middle of it all, and the atmosphere of the film genuinely envelops you. There's plenty of suspense and tension in the plot, as well, so it keeps you on the edge of your seat quite a bit.

If I have any complaints, it's that the plot gets wrapped up a little too neatly at the end. Not bad, just a little hard to swallow. That, and some of the acting is a little rough, but it's not bad by any means. Definitely a great film, another one to add to Dassin's great achievements.

Blow-Up

Blow-Up seems so unlike Antonioni's other work, that it took me a while to work up the courage to see it. Also, some of the reviews I read were absolutely polarizing. Now, after seeing it, I can understand why. It's not a movie for everyone; the plot is completely aimless, confusing, and left unresolved. However, for those reasons, it's brilliant.

The 'plot' centers around a young photographer in London, Thomas. You're not given much insight into Thomas' character, or anyone else for that matter. He seems to live day-to-day, without much care. He photographs a couple in a park, and after developing his photos, he slowly starts to realize he's captured a crime in his photos.

Antonioni doesn't even give the whole plot away until well after the halfway point of the movie. Even after that, there's little to no dialogue in the rest of the film. Though, this increases the sense of paranoia that overcomes Thomas, and eventually, the viewer. There's a lot of glass in the set design, and very often, you see the reflection of a character or object in them. This, to me, pretty clearly illustrates that things may not be as they appear, that things may be imagined, or merely a reflection of reality. Speaking of which, the set design is stellar, especially the ecclecticity of Thomas' loft. The cinematography is exquisite, is at once beautiful and disorienting.

Towards the end is one of the most bizarre scenes I've ever seen in film. The Yardbirds are playing in a club in London, performing Stroll On, which is a very lively rockin' tune. However, even though the club is packed, all of the kids watching the show aren't moving. They're just standing there, staring, in a daze. After problems with the amp, one of the guitarists smashes his guitar, and then throws the neck and headstock into the crowd. Only then do they react, and they go completely apeshit. Seeing the entire crowd standing still, as if in a trance, it's extremely unsettling.

I'm not even going to touch the ending, because once you put the pieces together, it's pretty easy to comprehend. But, it's amazing, nonetheless. It illustrates how elegant of a director Antonioni is.

Assault on Precinct 13 (2005)

It's no secret, I love John Carpenter's work. I think the original Assault on Precinct 13 is one of his best movies, and I know that I'm not alone. However, the remake had gotten an amount of good press, so it seemed worth checking out. I tried to keep an open mind, and honestly did my best not to compare it to Carpenter's film at all. Objectively, it stinks.

It's not that it strays too far from the original story. In fact, it's pretty faithful, aside from some well-made changes to fit in with the modern setting. The changes serve the plot well, in fact. However, the characters and acting are atrocious. In one of the most unintentionally hilarious movies I've seen in a while, most of the characters never learn each others' names, and refer to each other by generic nicknames. The gangster is called 'gangster', sergeant is called 'sarge', the junkie is 'junkie', the doctor is 'doc', and so on and so forth. This is hilarious because it furthur illustrates how two-dimensional the characters really are. You can pretty much guess everything that's going to happen based on the characters' initial appearances, and not be too far off.

You don't really care about any of the people in the film, which makes most deaths completely devoid of anything resembling emotion. I mean, the main character treats everyone like shit, flirts with every white woman in the film, assumes they all want him, and steals his own medical files. Yeah, real great way to establish sympathy for the characters. Oh wait, he blames himself for the death of his partners in the past, and now hides behind his desk job, smoldering with angst. How deep!

Not that the original film is any masterpiece in its own right, by any means. It's a simple, low-budget thriller, but it never attempts to be anything but, and it succeeds brilliantly. The remake, with its predictable plot, wooden characters and faux-documentary style is just daft. The acting, however, is only slightly better than in the original. If you've seen Carpenter's original, though, you know that's not really a compliment.

If you're able to completely shut your brain off and enjoy all the explosions and gunfire, you might find some entertainment, but not much.

The Big Heat

The Big Heat is an exemplary film noir. A fairly simple story given royal treatment by Fritz Lang. Lang was fond of stories about revenge and hate, but he always showed the negative side of them, rather than sympathizing. In his films, it's always a futile, destructive force that drives characters. The Big Heat features plenty of rotten acts driven by vengance.

At first, I was surprised that the lighting of the film wasn't as dark and moody as it tends to be in film noir, especially in Lang's film. But, as it went on, I realized it was an intentional decision, as things are nearly idyllic in the first half of the movie, then when tragedy strikes and Banion becomes a creature motivated by revenge, the lighting gets a whole lot darker. Strange shadows are thrown all over rooms, light pours in only through windowblinds, lamps cast dark shadows on characters' faces and their shadows loom behind them on the walls. Yes, The Big Heat's lighting is awesome.

It's quickly become one of my favorite film noirs, and my favorite Lang noir that I've seen yet. I've still got plenty to go, but The Big Heat only excites me more, thinking about the possibilites.

Le Million

There's not much to say about Le Million in terms of analyzation or criticism. It's just a great, wonderfully entertaining and charming movie. In most ways, it's a musical, and that thought makes me shudder. But, it's up there with Singin' In the Rain as the films that transcend that genre and simply become great. It's hard not to fall in love with the film and not get wrapped up in the plot or identify with the characters. The use of sound is fantastic, especially for an early talkie. Le Million was far ahead of its time, I'd say.

Ocean's Twelve

I wasn't expecting much from Ocean's Twelve. The reviews were pretty mediocre, and it was a sequel, after all. However, the movie really exceeded my expectations by being pretty thoroughly entertaining.

The film is very light in tone. It never takes itself too seriously, which results is a breezy, very watchable movie. There's a couple of heists/cons in the film, and numerous levels of deceptions by many folks, as you'd expect, so it's a good treat if you're a fan of heist films in general. It's probably one of the most stylish films in a good long while, and for the most part, it's a treat just to lean back and take in the scenery.

The movie's far from perfect, though. There's a lot of emphasis put on the style of the film, so much so that it's distracting. It's not a bad thing to have a flair for cinematography, but most of the more stylized shots in the film serve no purpose other than to call attention to themselves. Also, most of the characters aren't really given much screen time at all, aside from the main leads, which is unfortunate, because that was one of the best parts of Soderbergh's original.

It's a good movie, easy to watch once and then mostly forget. There are plenty of flaws, but it's still worth checking out if you're a fan of the first.

His Girl Friday

Now, I love Hawks, and I certainly love Cary Grant, but after seeing His Girl Friday, I think it's far overrated. A very good film, but very overrated. The technical details of the film are hard to fault, photography, music, acting and direction are all spot-on. My problems with the film mostly stem from the story.

I just didn't really feel much emotion from the story. It felt pretty manipulative in many parts, and I just didn't believe it most of the time. I just really can't see somebody making a huge change in their life, realizing that somebody was completely wrong for them, and then throwing all that out the window because they bonded on a story. I can see, to a point, where she might re-consider her course of action, but I really can't see the ending turning out the way it did in real life. That detracted a lot from the picture. Also, the plot got far too convoluted for its own good towards the end of the movie, though in no part due to the quick dialogue, which served the film great.

Most of it was enjoyable, and it's a very entertaining picture, to say the least. However, these lapses in story and character just seemed to unrealistic to me, personally. It might be wrong of me to think such a thing, but I do, and for me, it dragged down the film.

Salesman

It took me a while, but I finally tracked down a copy of Salesman and sat down to watch it tonight. I was highly impressed, and can honestly say it's one of the best documentaries I've ever seen. Made by Albert Maysles, David Maysles and Charlotte Zwerin, it's an exploration of door-to-door salesman, no more, no less.

The film really has no agenda of its own. It's simply a well-crafted document of one particular way of life. It follows four door-to-door Bible salesmen as they struggle to make quotas and (sometimes) succeed out on the road. However, it really doesn't try to portray them as anything they're not. They are men, simply making a living, doing what they do.

The first thing most people think of when they think of a salesman is "Oh, those annoying bastards who are always calling me up and ringing my bell?" I was worried that the film might try too hard to justify their jobs, or at the same time, that it might completely poke fun at it and put it down. It does neither, like I said, it just shows what it's like, not only for the salesmen, but for their potential customers as well. These guys are really good, though. Anything the customer might throw at them, no matter how disinterested they might seem, the salesmen always have a quick and witty reply ready, so much that that you have to wonder- how do they do it?

The film almost challenges the viewer, in some ways, because it doesn't take one particular side. The salesmen are incredibly pushy towards their customers almost all of the time, yet people still buy from them, enough to make a living. Yes, they're annoying, but the same people that they're annoying are the ones buying their wares, so is anybody really at fault? It's the way the film breaks things down like that, that truly make it a brilliant documentary.

As much as it's an exploration of a particular occupation, it's also a study of these human beings themselves, how they carry themselves, how they work, and how they deal with their setbacks. Some of the salesmen have more backbone than others, and simply won't take no for an answer, while others take the hint quickly and slink out the door. For as much time spent documenting the salesmen out on the job, there's as much time spent showing them back in their hotel rooms, talking to each other, bragging about their successes or licking their wounds after a bad day. Sometimes, they complain about the ethnicity of the people they visit, or complain about the layout of the city, or this or that. It's these little moments that make the film seem whole, because you gets all the aspects of a person's personality, this way.

The Magnificent Ambersons

Another one of those films I always have to catch on TCM because nobody will release it on disc. I saw it once before, and came away slightly unimpressed, kind of like the first time I saw Kane. But, the characters, images and the mood of the film really stick with you, and I couldn't wait for them to air it again.

I was struck instantly by the character portraits painted this time around. You can really feel a kinship for them all, even though you might not agree with their individual actions. You get a sense of understanding as to why they do what they do. George is brilliantly written and acted. He's a spoiled brat who's stuck in his ways and always has to get what he wants. You really despise him as a character, at first, and that's exactly the way it should be. However, his arc gets very interesting very fast.

Despite not having final cut on the film, the editing and soundwork is breathtaking. The sequence at the very beginning is a great piece of work, detailing many years of something as droll as fashion, in a refreshingly interesting manner and pace.

Clearly one of Welles' best works, and highly influential to this day. I look forward to reading more about it in Peter Cowie's The Cinema of Orson Welles.

Journey to the Center of the Earth

I remember when I was very young, I was in a Dollar Store, looking at the books they had. The only book that interested me was Jules Verne's A Journey to the Centre of the Earth, so I bought it and threw it on a shelf at home. During one summer, I was bored, so I'd picked it up and started to read it, not expecting much. To my surprise, I instantly fell in love with it. It presented such a grand adventure, I couldn't help but utterly enjoy it. For a while, I'd hoped somebody would make a great film version of the book, because the words seemed so vivid to me. I'd read about versions here and there, but none of them sounded like they properly captured the spirit of the book. I saw that Henry Levin's 1959 version was the most widely praised version, so I decided to check it out, and see how well it did.

To tell you the truth, I don't really remember much about the book, unfortunately. I do remember a bit about the overall plot and characters, but few details remained in my memory. I remembered vaguely how the city of Reykjavik, how he'd described the way their guide ate at the Inn (which, I realize, might have been confusion with another story on my part) and the overall sense of a seemingly-unending journey underground. So, I can't say how well the film captured the details, but it's certainly done a good job of capturing the overall spirit of the story.

I was always impressed with the balance between the fantastic and the scientific of the story. They approach it in such a straight-laced manner, completely scientific, despite all the elements of wonder and fantasy that they see around them. James Mason really nailed the part here, blending both of these elements as perfectly as they should be. The rest of the cast was good, but Mason takes the cake.

Some of the effects work, unfortunately, looks really dated. I hate calling older films out on effects, just because they're usually not important, but in this story, the images and their believability are of great consequence. For example, the scene in the caverns, with the small pools and glittering crystals, sometimes it was just hard to comprehend the geometry fully. Plus, you could tell it was all studio-created. The same goes for a lot of the basic caverns. And don't get me started on those salamanders.

It's done a good job capturing the overall spirit, though, despite its shortcomings. The story's dear to my heart, and has been for many years, so I'm just overly critical. I'm hoping somebody takes up the chance to do a definitive version of the story in my lifetime. And if not, I might have to take the reins myself!

L'Age D'Or

So, L'Age D'Or, for the most part, I didn't get. But, seeing as how it's an early surrealist collaboration between Bunuel and Dali, nobody is expected to, especially not on the first viewing. I did really enjoy the film though, the basic plot (at least what was navigable), the mood and atmosphere, the imagery were all great. I took some notes on what I think things stood for, and looking through writings on the film, I'm mostly wrong, based on the more commonly-accepted theories on the meanings of the film. However, I think, especially with works like this, it's important to aknowledge your gut instinct, what the film first means to you, apart from what may be true about it.

The first thing I really picked up on was the treatment of time throughout the piece. We're shown the Majorcans performing a religious ceremony in what looks to be the middle ages, then after an indiscernible amount of time, they're nothing more than skeletons. As a vigil is being held for them (I'd imagine), a young couple is heard attempting to consummate their relationship. The man is dragged off, and then an indiscernible amount of time passes again, and suddenly we're thrust into the same period that the film was made, the late 1920's. The man is still being dragged through the streets, despite hundreds of years passing. The woman still exists in this time too. This leads me to believe that Bunuel is trying to show that these are not simple human beings, of flesh and blood, but archetypes. But, archetypes of what, or whom? I think that they're symbolic of humankind's sexual urges, in that they're always there, in any time, always trying to express themselves, despite society trying to keep them doing it.

The man seems to be frustrated immensely by this. While being dragged around, he's constantly lashing out, be it by fighting his captors, kicking a dog, or squashing a bug on the beach. Little things on the street remind him of the woman, and ultimately, of his urges.

There's a sequence in the city, early on, depicting a statue of a man with something on his head. (A loaf of bread, it looks like?) Soon after, we see a man walk by with something similar on his own head. Is this symbolic of man's adaptations to his own surroundings, of his assimilation into the world?

The party sequence seems to be an attack on the bourgeoisie, although I can't put my finger on precisely why I arrive at that conclusion. I imagine it's just the atmosphere. These people are so uncaring towards the events unfolding around them, be it a horse-drawn carriage riding through the room, or a huge fire in the kitchen. However, when a man shoots a young boy outside, all the partygoers are very interested, and all crowd around to witness the aftermath. This doesn't last, and within moments, they're back to schmoozing again. I'm thinking that the shooting might be symbolic of sex, since a line is always drawn from sexual activities to murder, or death. Or, maybe it's just another attack on the bourgeoisie; they only put on the act of caring when it's of utter importance, when a young child has been killed, but they can't wait to get back to their own party.

Of course, as the man is finally within grasp of his coal of having sex with the woman, she decides that she'd rather be with the conductor, which says something about the fickleness of woman, or even people in general. Perhaps it's speaking of a woman's nature to be deceitful of the men around her, no matter how much she's given up in a situation. Or maybe she's just plain horny.

The scene after this is equally bizarre, as the man is seen throwing things out the window; a flaming tree, a Majorcan, some large horse/hammer-looking thing, a spear, and a wooden giraffe. Maybe this represents his rejection of things, like religion, or his own nature?

The final scene is extremely memorable. It takes place right after the Marquis De Sade's 120 Days of Sodom, in which 4 people took hostage dozens of young people, and tortured and raped them in a castle for 4 months. In this scene, the tormentors are shown emerging from the castle, and the first one is clearly meant to be Jesus Christ himself. If that's not an all-out attack on the Church, I don't know what is.

Of course, after reading about the film, I've come to find out it's widely accepted that it's not symbolic of sexual urges yearning to break free from society, but love itself. I can understand this, but I still think that it's an exploration of sex and human nature in general, in many ways

Billy Liar

Billy Liar was recommended to me by my good friend, Brent, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. It's about a young man, Billy, who chooses to live his life in fantasy, and tell lie upon lie to everybody he comes into contact with. The film follows a single day in his life, in which he attempts to quit his job because he pretends he has a gig writing scripts for a local comic, keep the peace with his two fiances, and keep numerous other white lies purported throughout his life.

I liked Billy Liar because I can really relate to Billy, personally. I think that everyone can relate to him, in some ways, but I can, probably moreso than others. Often in my life, even to this very day, I retreat into worlds in my own imagination, populated by characters and surroundings I've created. So, Billy's flights of fancy really interest me, as they tend to take up more of his attention than reality itself does.

The character of Liz is the catalyst for change, if Billy will allow it. She's a free spirit in every way that Billy wishes he could be, and imagines that he is. She's always away in faraway places, wherever her whims take her, places that Billy can, and does, only imagine. They plan to run away together, to London, to live out their collective fantasies, but you have to wonder if Billy can even go through with it.

Billy is very afraid of change, I think, at least changes in reality. He's got it easy, knowing that his parents support him, no matter what he manages to screw up in whatever job he ends up in. Therefore, he's free to imagine a life less ordinary than his own, and if anybody bothers him, he can drift off to his own world again, or simply machine-gun them down. If Billy were to go off to London, to make it on his own, he'd have a myriad of responsibilities, and wouldn't be able to live in his imagination, like he can at home. Billy needs to stay at home, where he can live in his imagination, where he has control, free from all responsibilities. He simply cannot 'grow up.'

Change is all around Billy, though he's completely oblivious to it. Buildings are being torn down left and right, shopping centers are going up around, a revolution is staring him in the face, and Billy hasn't a clue. Once again, it goes back to the fact that, I believe, he'd rather stay in his own world, in control, where he can do and be whatever he wishes. He chooses to block it all out, to ignore the buildings being torn down, laugh off the Counsilor's ramblings about how the world is changing, and shrug off his boss' insistence that even coffins are changing. He remains oblivious to it all, not due to stupidity, but simply by choice.

Coup de Torchon

Bertrand Tavernier's Coup de Torchon is a bizarre gem of a film. Philippe Noiret is the Police Chief in Bourkassa, in East Africa. However, he's a complete loaf, who is, for the most part, indifferent towards his job and the duties it asks. To one of the pimps early on, he says "you know I never arrest anyone unless I have to. I have enough troubles of my own." He gets no respect from anyone in town, concordantly, and is constantly hassled by two pimps who believe that have the right to, because they pay him off monthly. Bothered by this, he goes to a friend in a neighboring town, seeking advice, and his friend shows him to be more assertive. Naturally, he finds the pimps and, after humiliating them for his own amusement, he shoots them both and dumps them in the river. From there, things kind of spiral out of control in this morally ambiguous film.

It's at times hysterically funny and, at other times, brutally violent. It very often goes from one to the other in a matter of seconds. The camera whips around just as quickly as the mood does. It's almost never static, and is constantly panning from side to side, up and down, whipping around between characters. In one early scene, a man drags his wife out into the street and beats her in broad daylight, right outside the barber shop where Lucien is getting a shampoo. The man working there asks if he hears it, and he says that he must have water in his ears. While this is going on, you can see the beating occurring outside via a mirror above the sink. After finishing up his shampoo, he can now hear the beating, but it's wound down by the time he leaves the shop. Soon, you discover the woman that was being brutalized was his own mistress.

It's an intriguing film, which doesn't answer nearly all the questions it asks. However, it's hilarious, shocking, and thought-provoking.

Double Indemnity

I've seen Double Indemnity before, but since Universal sucks, I try to watch it whenever TCM airs it, because I know I won't be able to choose when I'll be able to see it again. When I first saw it, many moons ago, I really loved it, but I didn't know much about noir, or even films in general. It's funny, no matter how much you learn, you can still look a few months back and think about how ignorant you were in terms of the language of cinema back then.

Now, I can really appreciate how great Double Indemnity is. The tension that Wilder can evoke when Phyliss is hiding behind Neff's door, and when Neff sees the man from the train sitting outside Keyes' office. I can see how well the lighting adds to the mood. For instance, in the scenes in the Dietrichson home, where the light filters through the window blinds, or on the many instances when a character walks into a darkened room, and you can see their silhouette in the light pouring through the doorway they're standing in.

On the second viewing, you're practically slapping your forehead, wondering why you didn't realize Phyliss was planning everything from the beginning; appearing at the door in a towel, crossing her legs so her anklet catches Neff's eyes (because she knows he'll be checking out her legs), her sexual innuendo and double entendres. Now, I realize how Stanwyck came to become the mother of all Black Widows to grace the screen afterwards.

Of course, the first thing you notice in a film is the opening, and Double Indemnity's really grabs you by presenting an unlikely scenario. Why is this guy driving so maniacally, just to end up at a normal-looking Insurance Office? And why is he here so late? You could understand if it was a hospital, police station, or perhaps the home of the person who's just double-crossed him and left him for dead. But, an Insurance Office is just too...boring. You're really glued from the beginning, wondering what's in the office that he's so desperate to get to. As you'll find out, it's not something he's eager to get, as it is something he's eager to leave behind; his conscience, before he dies from his wounds.

M. Hulot's Holiday

Watched M. Hulot's Holiday, my first Tati film. It certainly gets my stamp of approval. It's not uproariously funny, like some other of my favorite films (maybe due to the fact that it's just not of my own era), but it's still an extremely entertaining and charming movie.

I'm really impressed with Tati's use of sound, overall. Not much dialogue in the film at all, but it's definitely not needed. Even the tiniest of noises distinguish themselves and really grow on you. Be it the undecipherable babble over the loudspeakers at the station, of the boing-boing of the Hotel's door, it's all so elegantly stylized, you can't help but fall under its spell.

The beginning of the film, maybe the first third, really isn't too funny, at least not in terms of a traditional comedy, but it's really all set-up, for the most part. As I'd come to realize, Tati really had an acute grasp on human nature and relations, and this is what drives the comedy. This gives it a very real feeling, like these people actually exist, and are all just trying to enjoy themselves on holiday.

Hulot himself reminded me quite a bit of Mr. Bean, in many ways. From his dilapidated car that he screeches around in, to his hyperactive facial expressions, to his nearly-wordless performance. A couple of my favorite bits from Hulot were the entire taffy gag, the tennis match, and the spare tire gag at the funeral. More than once, I was in hysterics.

Bonnie & Clyde

My good friend Luke told me that Bonnie & Clyde was probably the main reason he got into "classic, good, movie buff movies," and that in his mind, it's probably the dividing line between casual movie watcher and him now. That said, I had to check it out ASAP, because Luke is just the man. I'd always avoided it, just because it didn't seem too special to me, and I'd always considered the plot to be a cliche, not realizing that the film itself was one of the first of its kind, at least, in modern terms.

All said, I wasn't disappointed with Bonnie & Clyde in the least. Volumes have already been written about it, so there's probably noting new that I can add. It's a shade under two hours, yet it felt so long. Not long in an agonizing, 'when will this torture end?' way, but long in a satisfying, 'now that was a great movie' way. There's so much plot and characterization crammed into the space, it's almost overwhelming. And yet, for all it's surface style and mainstream appeal, there's quite a bit beneath the surface for any cineaste to dissect.

I can really see now how it ushered in almost an entirely new era in American film, in the late-60's/early-70's. The violence and sex is done so tastefully, on the surface, that they were able to get away with it, yet it still rings startlingly true to this day. It really hasn't aged much, if at all.

I was drawn to all of the characters, in many ways, which is very rare for me, when watching a film. Right off, you can really get a sense of who they are, what they're all about, and how they'll react in situations. And yet, they never stop growing, as people, throughout the entire film.

Like I said, very impressed with the whole package. Thanks, Luke. Now Warners, how's that SE coming?

The Honeymoon Killers

The Honeymoon Killers has earned the unique distinction of being a film released on DVD by Criterion that I DID NOT enjoy. The only others that I've seen that I didn't like were Ratcatcher (Merely decent) and By Brakhage, whose films I saw had little to no artistic value, whatsoever. If this makes me any less of a cinephile, then so be it. I wasn't really expecting much from the Honeymoon Killers, and even then, it let me down.

It's the true story of Martha Beck, an overweight, lonely nurse who joins a Lonely Hearts correspondence club and meets Raymond Fernandez, who just happens to be a conman. She falls head over feet for him, despite his attempts to swindle her, and he soon starts involving her in his schemes, which go awry when Martha's jealousy takes over. That's about it, really. Just pure pulp.

I don't think I've ever seen acting this bad in a major motion picture. Lo Bianco's delivery is unintentionally hysterical in spots, and the rest of the characters are simply grating. Like I said, the story doesn't particularly go anywhere, and you can almost predict what will happen next at any given point.

The Honeymoon Killers has some redeeming qualities, though. I truly felt an understanding for Martha's character in certain spots, and for the most part, she's a well-developed character, but she stands out in that respect. The documentary-style camerawork is very effective, as well. The best part about the film, though, was the fact that no effort was made to pretty up, or romanticize the characters at all. These are sick people that do horrible things, and the viewer feels very little sympathy for them.

I don't know why, but Criterion's disc is surprisingly below their usual standards. The anamorphic transfer is good, for the most part, with nice black and contrast levels. However, the audio is a disgustingly muddled mess. Dialogue was so distorted throughout the film that I needed the subtitles enabled all the way through. I'm hoping that it's the original soundtrack to blame, and not Criterion. The packaging and menus are bloody brilliant, as well.