- Published on
site update
So many movies ... so little time ...
On this day in 1967 (in Japan), The Ghost Of Sierra De Cobre enjoyed its spooky business with a broadcast television premiere. Written and directed by Joseph Stefano, the film starred Martin Landau, Judith Anderson, Diane Baker, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"Terrified of being buried alive by mistake, a woman puts a phone in her crypt to be able to call home if she needs help. She dies and nothing happens. One day, the phone suddenly rings. Paranormal investigator Nelson Orion (Martin Landau) is brought in."
For the record:
At the 2019 Saturn Awards, an all-new home video release of The Ghost Of Sierra De Cobre received a nomination in the category of 'Best DVD / Blu-ray Television Movie Or Series Release.'
-- EZ
On this day in 1967 (in Japan), The Ghost Of Sierra De Cobre enjoyed its spooky business with a broadcast television premiere. Written and directed by Joseph Stefano, the film starred Martin Landau, Judith Anderson, Diane Baker, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"Terrified of being buried alive by mistake, a woman puts a phone in her crypt to be able to call home if she needs help. She dies and nothing happens. One day, the phone suddenly rings. Paranormal investigator Nelson Orion (Martin Landau) is brought in."
For the record:
At the 2019 Saturn Awards, an all-new home video release of The Ghost Of Sierra De Cobre received a nomination in the category of 'Best DVD / Blu-ray Television Movie Or Series Release.'
-- EZ
- Published on
site update
So many movies ... so little time ...
On this day in 2008 (in the U.S.), the big city of Los Angeles, California hosted the big studio premiere event for Babylon A.D. (Interesting enough, it was also enjoying a simultaneous theatrical release in France on the same day.) Written (in part) and directed by Mathieu Kassovitz, the film starred Vin Diesel, Michelle Yeoh, Charlotte Rampling, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"Veteran-turned-mercenary Toorop takes the high-risk job of escorting a woman from Russia to America. Little does he know that she is host to an organism that a cult wants to harvest in order to produce a genetically modified Messiah."
-- EZ
On this day in 2008 (in the U.S.), the big city of Los Angeles, California hosted the big studio premiere event for Babylon A.D. (Interesting enough, it was also enjoying a simultaneous theatrical release in France on the same day.) Written (in part) and directed by Mathieu Kassovitz, the film starred Vin Diesel, Michelle Yeoh, Charlotte Rampling, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"Veteran-turned-mercenary Toorop takes the high-risk job of escorting a woman from Russia to America. Little does he know that she is host to an organism that a cult wants to harvest in order to produce a genetically modified Messiah."
-- EZ
- Published on
Even at my ripe old age, I missed ‘the Golden Age of Hollywood’ by a decade or two.
Beginning in the 1920’s and running into the 1960’s, Tinseltown managed to create an incredible number of spectacles intended to put butts in the seats (as they say), with some of the industry’s biggest names both in front of the camera and behind doing what they could to serve up one extravagant display after another. Whether these were Musicals, Dramas, or classics inspired by history, viewers were captivated by the splendor of it all. Rarely can moviegoers appreciate escapism by leaping into the past, but if the effort turns out relatable characters, impressive costumes, and themes that resonate across the centuries, then why shouldn’t they take such a trip? The worst that could happen is that they get a bit educated along the way, and even that shouldn’t be considered an insignificant benefit.
Directed by Richard Thorpe, 1953’s Knights Of The Round Table is exactly the kind of thing Hollywood used to do quite well. Essentially, it was a grand spectacle exploring the ideas of love and loyalty set against the backdrop of more than a small measure of royal intrigue. Based on a work from Thomas Malory, screenwriters Noel Langley, Jan Lustig, and Talbot Jennings adapted the story of King Arthur, Lady Guinevere, and Sir Lancelot for the silver screen. The picture starred such names as Robert Taylor, Ava Gardner, Mel Ferrer, Anne Crawford, and Stanley Baker in prominent roles; and the picture went on not only gross approximately $8M globally but also garnered two Academy Awards nominations in technical categories.
Wondering just how well Knights holds up?
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“King Arthur's rule is threatened by the adulterous love between Sir Lancelot and Queen Guinevere, a relationship the king's enemies hope to exploit.”
Admittedly, I’m not as familiar with King Arthur and the knights of the Round Table as I wish I were.
Beginning in the 1920’s and running into the 1960’s, Tinseltown managed to create an incredible number of spectacles intended to put butts in the seats (as they say), with some of the industry’s biggest names both in front of the camera and behind doing what they could to serve up one extravagant display after another. Whether these were Musicals, Dramas, or classics inspired by history, viewers were captivated by the splendor of it all. Rarely can moviegoers appreciate escapism by leaping into the past, but if the effort turns out relatable characters, impressive costumes, and themes that resonate across the centuries, then why shouldn’t they take such a trip? The worst that could happen is that they get a bit educated along the way, and even that shouldn’t be considered an insignificant benefit.
Directed by Richard Thorpe, 1953’s Knights Of The Round Table is exactly the kind of thing Hollywood used to do quite well. Essentially, it was a grand spectacle exploring the ideas of love and loyalty set against the backdrop of more than a small measure of royal intrigue. Based on a work from Thomas Malory, screenwriters Noel Langley, Jan Lustig, and Talbot Jennings adapted the story of King Arthur, Lady Guinevere, and Sir Lancelot for the silver screen. The picture starred such names as Robert Taylor, Ava Gardner, Mel Ferrer, Anne Crawford, and Stanley Baker in prominent roles; and the picture went on not only gross approximately $8M globally but also garnered two Academy Awards nominations in technical categories.
Wondering just how well Knights holds up?
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“King Arthur's rule is threatened by the adulterous love between Sir Lancelot and Queen Guinevere, a relationship the king's enemies hope to exploit.”
Admittedly, I’m not as familiar with King Arthur and the knights of the Round Table as I wish I were.
Oh, sure, I’ve seen Monty Python And The Holy Grail (1975) as a good many of us living and breathing have, so I’m more than familiar with the overall arc of the story (which really only loosely – very loosely – relates to that Comedy Classic). I’m also very familiar with 1981’s Excalibur, the elaborate retelling of the whole Arthurian myth brought to life by John Boorman. I know the names of Arthur, Merlin, Guinevere, Lancelot, Percival, and a few others; and I’m well aware of the sword being pulled out of the stone, the ill-fated romance that led to a betrayal of friendships, and the basic backdrop of Camelot serving as a 12th century Utopia. Though I’m no expert, I certainly possess the working familiarity with the whole saga.
For all intents and purposes, I think it’s appropriate to think of 1953’s Knights Of The Round Table alongside other cinematic showstoppers from that decade even though Knights might creep in a bit underwhelming.
It lacks a lot of the big studio polish reserved for the Biblical efforts – 1956’s The Ten Commandments and 1959’s Ben-Hur – and, frankly probably lacks a bit of star power. Mel Ferrer – as King Arthur – was definitely in his heyday (as even a Google.com search can assure readers); but Robert Taylor – as his close confidante Sir Lancelot – was coming down a bit from his leading man status of the 30’s and 40’s. Both work well against one another – or, at least, as well as the script was designed – but Ferrer is never really given any major screen moment (a vivid speech or some dramatic athletic combat) that typifies why his Arthur was the man who would be king. (Of course, there’s the sword in the stone moment, but it’s handled fairly casually.) Though Gardner as Guinevere is quite exquisite, the bulk of her screen time involves longing glances and looking pretty, two skills any number of actresses of her caliber could deliver.
Still, because so much of Knights outside of the epic warfare sequences feels a bit more like half-baked melodrama none of the screen talent ever gets the chance to truly let loose with some memorable work. Ferrer is mostly stoic – albeit looking regal when it’s required – and never delivers a relatable snatch of dialogue, allowing his words to pretty much linger until someone else has something to add. In contrast, Taylor’s delivery hits like it’s a comfortable middle ground between Shakespearean English or recitations of epic poetry, at least giving his work a bit more flair when necessary. Gabriel Woolf (as Percival) largely matches Taylor’s best bits, so the two of them minimally sound like they’re in sync even when everyone else is coasting on the Thespian laurels.
However, Anne Crawford’s Morgan Le Fay and Stanley Baker’s Modred do their respective parts proud as they’re chiefly paired up as the disgraced royals who are just waiting in the wings to make problems for Arthur on the throne. (God bless the screenwriters for knowing how much stories of this caliber require some classic villainy!) They seethe in the background, making eyes at one another while they’re trying to contemplate some devious machination to either curry favor with Arthur’s fledgling enemies or the cast of background actors and actresses looking for stealing their own scenes. While I would’ve liked to have seen a bit more screen time given to both of them, it’s still clear that these two talents understood what their respective parts were, and they hit their marks wonderfully.
Also, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention Maureen Swanson’s Elaine, the fair maiden who in classic style gets unintentionally swept off her feet by Lancelot’s chiseled good looks and knightly demeanor. Appearing early in the picture, she’s easily smitten with the man’s charms – in part because she’s had few other potential suitors to compare him to – and it isn’t long before she’s added to the court at Camelot, filling out a kinda/sorta royal assignment to assuage the threat of misplaced affections falling on Lancelot and Guinevere. Her departure in the arms of the man of her dreams works naturally; and her inevitable demise owed to nothing more than a cruel twist of fate is the stuff that makes mythology relatable whether we like it or not.
For all intents and purposes, I think it’s appropriate to think of 1953’s Knights Of The Round Table alongside other cinematic showstoppers from that decade even though Knights might creep in a bit underwhelming.
It lacks a lot of the big studio polish reserved for the Biblical efforts – 1956’s The Ten Commandments and 1959’s Ben-Hur – and, frankly probably lacks a bit of star power. Mel Ferrer – as King Arthur – was definitely in his heyday (as even a Google.com search can assure readers); but Robert Taylor – as his close confidante Sir Lancelot – was coming down a bit from his leading man status of the 30’s and 40’s. Both work well against one another – or, at least, as well as the script was designed – but Ferrer is never really given any major screen moment (a vivid speech or some dramatic athletic combat) that typifies why his Arthur was the man who would be king. (Of course, there’s the sword in the stone moment, but it’s handled fairly casually.) Though Gardner as Guinevere is quite exquisite, the bulk of her screen time involves longing glances and looking pretty, two skills any number of actresses of her caliber could deliver.
Still, because so much of Knights outside of the epic warfare sequences feels a bit more like half-baked melodrama none of the screen talent ever gets the chance to truly let loose with some memorable work. Ferrer is mostly stoic – albeit looking regal when it’s required – and never delivers a relatable snatch of dialogue, allowing his words to pretty much linger until someone else has something to add. In contrast, Taylor’s delivery hits like it’s a comfortable middle ground between Shakespearean English or recitations of epic poetry, at least giving his work a bit more flair when necessary. Gabriel Woolf (as Percival) largely matches Taylor’s best bits, so the two of them minimally sound like they’re in sync even when everyone else is coasting on the Thespian laurels.
However, Anne Crawford’s Morgan Le Fay and Stanley Baker’s Modred do their respective parts proud as they’re chiefly paired up as the disgraced royals who are just waiting in the wings to make problems for Arthur on the throne. (God bless the screenwriters for knowing how much stories of this caliber require some classic villainy!) They seethe in the background, making eyes at one another while they’re trying to contemplate some devious machination to either curry favor with Arthur’s fledgling enemies or the cast of background actors and actresses looking for stealing their own scenes. While I would’ve liked to have seen a bit more screen time given to both of them, it’s still clear that these two talents understood what their respective parts were, and they hit their marks wonderfully.
Also, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention Maureen Swanson’s Elaine, the fair maiden who in classic style gets unintentionally swept off her feet by Lancelot’s chiseled good looks and knightly demeanor. Appearing early in the picture, she’s easily smitten with the man’s charms – in part because she’s had few other potential suitors to compare him to – and it isn’t long before she’s added to the court at Camelot, filling out a kinda/sorta royal assignment to assuage the threat of misplaced affections falling on Lancelot and Guinevere. Her departure in the arms of the man of her dreams works naturally; and her inevitable demise owed to nothing more than a cruel twist of fate is the stuff that makes mythology relatable whether we like it or not.
As a whole, I suppose it’s safe to say that Knights works well as a somewhat stuffy and high-brow period adaptation; but the picture is still a bit small on memorable moments. Yes, the battlefield clashes are the kind of thing Hollywood was up in arms over in the 1950’s, and those sequences – while sometimes laughably choreographed – hold up quite well so far as this incarnation is concerned. But as the aforementioned epics used character dialogue and speeches to better effect, Knights just never finds the moments that could’ve elevated this story to true epic status.
It’s good … but it’s no Excalibur.
Knights Of The Round Table (1953) was produced by Loew’s Incorporated. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Warner Archive. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still assure you that the provided sights-and-sounds are quite good throughout the picture: there are a few sequences early on wherein the – ahem – special effects wizardry doesn’t work quite so well as I’ve seen elsewhere in flicks of the era, but it is what it is at this juncture. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts an intro from Ferrer along with a few other bits drawn from the wider Warner Bros. catalogue, including a cartoon short and the theatrical trailer.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
One of the chief problems I’ve had with Hollywood’s big spectacle pictures is that essentially I find them only big on visuals yet flat on delivery; and that’s the greatest stumbling block to Knights Of The Round Table (1953). Though it looks grand – exactly they way a screen epic should – the performances across the board are reasonably flat. Maureen Swanson’s Elaine and Robert Taylor’s Lancelot are debatably the best thing in all of it – Elaine, too briefly, as well – but Mel Ferrer’s Arthur and Ava Gardner’s Guinevere lack any real depth or range in scenes that could’ve used even a small hint of either. Production details are solid, but the two-hour running time feels a bit long in the second half especially. Come for the spectacle … as that’s about all it offers.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Knights Of The Round Table (1953) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
It’s good … but it’s no Excalibur.
Knights Of The Round Table (1953) was produced by Loew’s Incorporated. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Warner Archive. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still assure you that the provided sights-and-sounds are quite good throughout the picture: there are a few sequences early on wherein the – ahem – special effects wizardry doesn’t work quite so well as I’ve seen elsewhere in flicks of the era, but it is what it is at this juncture. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts an intro from Ferrer along with a few other bits drawn from the wider Warner Bros. catalogue, including a cartoon short and the theatrical trailer.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
One of the chief problems I’ve had with Hollywood’s big spectacle pictures is that essentially I find them only big on visuals yet flat on delivery; and that’s the greatest stumbling block to Knights Of The Round Table (1953). Though it looks grand – exactly they way a screen epic should – the performances across the board are reasonably flat. Maureen Swanson’s Elaine and Robert Taylor’s Lancelot are debatably the best thing in all of it – Elaine, too briefly, as well – but Mel Ferrer’s Arthur and Ava Gardner’s Guinevere lack any real depth or range in scenes that could’ve used even a small hint of either. Production details are solid, but the two-hour running time feels a bit long in the second half especially. Come for the spectacle … as that’s about all it offers.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Knights Of The Round Table (1953) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- Published on
The first rule of storytelling is this: “The story must make sense.”
As humans, we use myths, legends, and stories to not only better understand the world around us but also to give our various experiences some kind of individual context. We process the provided information – i.e. the characters, their circumstances, their respective journeys, etc. – on the supposition that there’s some intrinsic meaning wrapped up in all of it. Ultimately, this is the only way we can arrive at the ending and know full well what we – as observers – might take away from what would otherwise be random and unrelated events strung together without any cohesion. Mind you, we don’t all have to achieve a singular consensus: the message I take from art could be markedly different from what the person sitting next to me infers. Still, it’s incumbent upon the storytellers to take the steps necessary to, minimally, put it all together in some relative shape; if not, then the journey is fruitless … except for the fact that we took it together.
There are a growing number of filmmakers who seek to not so much deliver morality plays as they wish to impart a position upon the audience hoping to inspire what they assert might be positive cultural transformation. More often than not, these stories are showcased at film festivals or university theaters as opposed to achieving full theatrical release; and – like it or not – some of that is owed to the fact that the narrative technique requires a bit more intellectual participation (if not outright supposition) by the audience. They’re the kind of yarns that just don’t resonate with the average moviegoer; and – for better or worse – they need a bit of extra effort to gather the level of attention perhaps deserves. This isn’t a judgment on their quality or relevance so much as it is an explanation for why they’re likely always to be relegated to niche crowds … the kind of thing your big university academic is always willing to push on impressionable young men and women. They watch them, and they talk about them, sometimes for hours on end. It’s a cerebral affair, not something to be undertaken lightly.
My issue critically with films of this variety is that I find them too nebulous, too unapproachable; and that’s the case with Jennifer Reeder’s only vaguely interesting Perpetrator (2023). IMDB.com bills it as a ‘Teen Horror’ – a category I didn’t even know existed – and it’s really everything but ‘Horror’ and an awful lot of ‘Teen.’ It depicts the story of Jonny, a young woman who is somewhat ‘transitioning’ from a biochemically normal teenager into something … well … it’s never quite clear … and that’s only the start of the problems to this woefully misguided attempt to deliver a story that fundamentally may very well be about nothing at all and everything in between.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Jonny, a wild and impulsive teenage girl living precariously in a town where young women continue to go missing, and the power she's forced to unlock to survive.”
As humans, we use myths, legends, and stories to not only better understand the world around us but also to give our various experiences some kind of individual context. We process the provided information – i.e. the characters, their circumstances, their respective journeys, etc. – on the supposition that there’s some intrinsic meaning wrapped up in all of it. Ultimately, this is the only way we can arrive at the ending and know full well what we – as observers – might take away from what would otherwise be random and unrelated events strung together without any cohesion. Mind you, we don’t all have to achieve a singular consensus: the message I take from art could be markedly different from what the person sitting next to me infers. Still, it’s incumbent upon the storytellers to take the steps necessary to, minimally, put it all together in some relative shape; if not, then the journey is fruitless … except for the fact that we took it together.
There are a growing number of filmmakers who seek to not so much deliver morality plays as they wish to impart a position upon the audience hoping to inspire what they assert might be positive cultural transformation. More often than not, these stories are showcased at film festivals or university theaters as opposed to achieving full theatrical release; and – like it or not – some of that is owed to the fact that the narrative technique requires a bit more intellectual participation (if not outright supposition) by the audience. They’re the kind of yarns that just don’t resonate with the average moviegoer; and – for better or worse – they need a bit of extra effort to gather the level of attention perhaps deserves. This isn’t a judgment on their quality or relevance so much as it is an explanation for why they’re likely always to be relegated to niche crowds … the kind of thing your big university academic is always willing to push on impressionable young men and women. They watch them, and they talk about them, sometimes for hours on end. It’s a cerebral affair, not something to be undertaken lightly.
My issue critically with films of this variety is that I find them too nebulous, too unapproachable; and that’s the case with Jennifer Reeder’s only vaguely interesting Perpetrator (2023). IMDB.com bills it as a ‘Teen Horror’ – a category I didn’t even know existed – and it’s really everything but ‘Horror’ and an awful lot of ‘Teen.’ It depicts the story of Jonny, a young woman who is somewhat ‘transitioning’ from a biochemically normal teenager into something … well … it’s never quite clear … and that’s only the start of the problems to this woefully misguided attempt to deliver a story that fundamentally may very well be about nothing at all and everything in between.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Jonny, a wild and impulsive teenage girl living precariously in a town where young women continue to go missing, and the power she's forced to unlock to survive.”
Years ago, one of the problems I experienced as a critic was being told by a filmmaker that because I was a male there would always be certain films which “escaped” my understanding and, therefore, my appreciation. (Before you even guess: no, the filmmaker was not a woman. It was a man. And his film was shit.) While I can’t even begin to imagine what goes on in the female mind, I – as a human being – should still be capable to ‘seeking to understand’ at least for the purpose of grasping any story; and it’s this foundation with which I do attempt to crossover into works which otherwise might pass me by. I’ll never pretend to ‘get it all, but I’ll always give it my best try because I do believe art – especially film – deserves to be celebrated by the widest audience possible.
So …
Perpetrator tells the story of Jonny (played by Kiah McKirnan), a budding flower on the cusp of womanhood who also descends from a subset of civilization with the unique ability to ‘shapeshift’ owed to some kind of accelerated empathy. As best as I can tell, these empaths can only be female – no explanation or factual foundation was provided by writer/director Jennifer Reeder so I’m just rollin’ with it – and, like puberty, it’s the kind of biologically transformational growth that isn’t predictable and results in personal chaos. While it appears superficially to be reasonably similar to hormonal changes, the script’s few exposition sequences never quite nail it down to the point wherein it made perfect sense to me … but, as I said above, maybe that’s because I’m male.
In any event …
Perpetrator tries to say a great many things about Jonny and the world she inhabits. Often a victim of oppression (mostly provided by – you guessed it – men), the young woman loses herself in the usual vices of lying, stealing, sexual proclivity, and the like. While she’s not exactly painted as a feminist, it’s still increasingly clear that she prefers women, mostly as she’s never been in the presence of a positive male role model her short, sweet life. (Fight the patriarchy, am I right?) In these circles, Jonny will likely always be a victim unless she can find a means to use her femininity and these associated powers to enact the changes to the world and those around her, not all that dissimilar to the universe as depicted in the lyrics of Beyonce’s “Run The World (Girls).”
Because this is Reeder’s narrative construct, Jonny is shackled with a deadbeat dad (or is she?), some deadbeat male classmates (those who objectify her and unintentionally lure her into being kidnapped), and some ridiculously oppressive male school administrators. For the most part, these men are all played histrionically, making them entirely unbelievable when paired against the women who are all just seeking to find their place in society with kindness and gentleness apparently only afforded to the fairer sex. But, sadly, the incongruity here – the fact that men are obtuse and women are down-to-earth – gives Perpetrator the feeling of farce … without any of the laughs.
Of course, it doesn’t help matters that Jonny’s dear aunt Hildie (Alicia Silverstone) – as the story’s resident source of exposition – delivers her lines in a deadpan, droning intonation, the kind of which is either meant to promote whimsical mystery or put audiences to sleep. In the past, Silverstone has proven herself as an actress to be exceptional adept at comedy; and I can only guess that’s what she and Reeder were going for here despite the fact that there’s a great deal of bloodletting associated to her screen time. Unfortunately, none of it makes a lick of sense; and I found myself even rewinding a scene or two for a quick replay, thinking I’d missed a bit of context when nothing was inevitably provided.
In several ways, Perpetrator felt like it was reaching for narrative ground not unlike 1989’s Heathers or even 2004’s Mean Girls; but the ridiculous mess of ideas never quite congealed around any central thread. Relatable moments – such as Jonny’s theft of a sequined dress which makes for a greater scene early in the picture or a few of the girls’ bathroom scenes where she and her classmates gather to discuss social strategy – are few and far between, leaving them lost in the shuffle of pools of blood appearing everywhere (literally everywhere) that seemingly serve as gateways to other realms. (???) About the time when something happens to give the film some momentum, Reeder throws another curveball into the mix; and I found myself increasingly frustrated with what turned out to be unhinged vignettes made surreal for surreality’s sake. There’s just no narrative traction, only a miasma of broken sequences building to nothing.
So …
Perpetrator tells the story of Jonny (played by Kiah McKirnan), a budding flower on the cusp of womanhood who also descends from a subset of civilization with the unique ability to ‘shapeshift’ owed to some kind of accelerated empathy. As best as I can tell, these empaths can only be female – no explanation or factual foundation was provided by writer/director Jennifer Reeder so I’m just rollin’ with it – and, like puberty, it’s the kind of biologically transformational growth that isn’t predictable and results in personal chaos. While it appears superficially to be reasonably similar to hormonal changes, the script’s few exposition sequences never quite nail it down to the point wherein it made perfect sense to me … but, as I said above, maybe that’s because I’m male.
In any event …
Perpetrator tries to say a great many things about Jonny and the world she inhabits. Often a victim of oppression (mostly provided by – you guessed it – men), the young woman loses herself in the usual vices of lying, stealing, sexual proclivity, and the like. While she’s not exactly painted as a feminist, it’s still increasingly clear that she prefers women, mostly as she’s never been in the presence of a positive male role model her short, sweet life. (Fight the patriarchy, am I right?) In these circles, Jonny will likely always be a victim unless she can find a means to use her femininity and these associated powers to enact the changes to the world and those around her, not all that dissimilar to the universe as depicted in the lyrics of Beyonce’s “Run The World (Girls).”
Because this is Reeder’s narrative construct, Jonny is shackled with a deadbeat dad (or is she?), some deadbeat male classmates (those who objectify her and unintentionally lure her into being kidnapped), and some ridiculously oppressive male school administrators. For the most part, these men are all played histrionically, making them entirely unbelievable when paired against the women who are all just seeking to find their place in society with kindness and gentleness apparently only afforded to the fairer sex. But, sadly, the incongruity here – the fact that men are obtuse and women are down-to-earth – gives Perpetrator the feeling of farce … without any of the laughs.
Of course, it doesn’t help matters that Jonny’s dear aunt Hildie (Alicia Silverstone) – as the story’s resident source of exposition – delivers her lines in a deadpan, droning intonation, the kind of which is either meant to promote whimsical mystery or put audiences to sleep. In the past, Silverstone has proven herself as an actress to be exceptional adept at comedy; and I can only guess that’s what she and Reeder were going for here despite the fact that there’s a great deal of bloodletting associated to her screen time. Unfortunately, none of it makes a lick of sense; and I found myself even rewinding a scene or two for a quick replay, thinking I’d missed a bit of context when nothing was inevitably provided.
In several ways, Perpetrator felt like it was reaching for narrative ground not unlike 1989’s Heathers or even 2004’s Mean Girls; but the ridiculous mess of ideas never quite congealed around any central thread. Relatable moments – such as Jonny’s theft of a sequined dress which makes for a greater scene early in the picture or a few of the girls’ bathroom scenes where she and her classmates gather to discuss social strategy – are few and far between, leaving them lost in the shuffle of pools of blood appearing everywhere (literally everywhere) that seemingly serve as gateways to other realms. (???) About the time when something happens to give the film some momentum, Reeder throws another curveball into the mix; and I found myself increasingly frustrated with what turned out to be unhinged vignettes made surreal for surreality’s sake. There’s just no narrative traction, only a miasma of broken sequences building to nothing.
Is this what she’s trying to say about the feminine experience? That it goes nowhere?
Even though I’m a man, I’ll always argue that nothing could be further from the truth, regardless of gender.
Without spoiling it, Perpetrator gets good use out of the female abduction subplot. Basically, the school’s best and brightest young ladies are being snatched by some vile culprit; and the whole campaign inevitably turns out to be fueled by a male obsessed with keeping his young love looking young. (Trust me: it should make sense when you see it.) That, too, winds up being inconsequential in a script that arguably needed a stronger centerpiece around which everything could’ve maintained orbit. As this one unfolds, there’s a pervasive sense that little will add up in the big finish; and it doesn’t. Like one of those Choose Your Own Adventure novel, the effort closes out like someone tore the last few pages from the book, implying the final destination escapes us all.
Sadly, Reeder missed the entire point of her closing scene: you can’t have your cake and eat it, too.
Perpetrator (2023) was produced by Divide/Conquer and WTFilms. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can attest that the sights and sounds are respectfully high quality: there’s a bit of visual trickery here – the face-changing sequences – that, sadly, I found a bit obvious and underwhelming. It works for what it is, but it still looks fairly low quality. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? This is Arrow, and they don’t disappoint. There’s an audience commentary from the writer/director along with a few little bits some might find interesting if for no other reason that they provide an explanation for – ahem – what the flick was ultimately trying to accomplish. I’ll leave it up to each of you to determine whether it hit the mark or not and just say this one was not for me.
Alas … this one is Hard To Recommend.
Here’s the thing, folks: a movie that requires a college level dissertation to make any damn sense narratively is not a movie. It’s a message – probably a political or cultural one – that, at best, is going to appeal to a niche audience. As hard as it tries (and it does try very hard), Perpetrator makes little sense, spiraling out more like character gibberish that’s meant to mean something only to the elite few who were let in on ‘the moral of the story.’ Now, I’ve no problem with that whatsoever – I encourage all creators to do what they want and follow their heart – but don’t expect me to get in line behind the social engineering. Minimally, a film has to stand on its own … and this one doesn’t even rise to the occasion.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary industry copy of Perpetrator (2023) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Even though I’m a man, I’ll always argue that nothing could be further from the truth, regardless of gender.
Without spoiling it, Perpetrator gets good use out of the female abduction subplot. Basically, the school’s best and brightest young ladies are being snatched by some vile culprit; and the whole campaign inevitably turns out to be fueled by a male obsessed with keeping his young love looking young. (Trust me: it should make sense when you see it.) That, too, winds up being inconsequential in a script that arguably needed a stronger centerpiece around which everything could’ve maintained orbit. As this one unfolds, there’s a pervasive sense that little will add up in the big finish; and it doesn’t. Like one of those Choose Your Own Adventure novel, the effort closes out like someone tore the last few pages from the book, implying the final destination escapes us all.
Sadly, Reeder missed the entire point of her closing scene: you can’t have your cake and eat it, too.
Perpetrator (2023) was produced by Divide/Conquer and WTFilms. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can attest that the sights and sounds are respectfully high quality: there’s a bit of visual trickery here – the face-changing sequences – that, sadly, I found a bit obvious and underwhelming. It works for what it is, but it still looks fairly low quality. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? This is Arrow, and they don’t disappoint. There’s an audience commentary from the writer/director along with a few little bits some might find interesting if for no other reason that they provide an explanation for – ahem – what the flick was ultimately trying to accomplish. I’ll leave it up to each of you to determine whether it hit the mark or not and just say this one was not for me.
Alas … this one is Hard To Recommend.
Here’s the thing, folks: a movie that requires a college level dissertation to make any damn sense narratively is not a movie. It’s a message – probably a political or cultural one – that, at best, is going to appeal to a niche audience. As hard as it tries (and it does try very hard), Perpetrator makes little sense, spiraling out more like character gibberish that’s meant to mean something only to the elite few who were let in on ‘the moral of the story.’ Now, I’ve no problem with that whatsoever – I encourage all creators to do what they want and follow their heart – but don’t expect me to get in line behind the social engineering. Minimally, a film has to stand on its own … and this one doesn’t even rise to the occasion.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary industry copy of Perpetrator (2023) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- Published on
in memoriam
Argh.
Folks, I saw the news yesterday when it broke on the Information Superhighway regarding the passage of actor Terence Stamp, but I just couldn't bring myself to put anything up last night.
As a young'un, Superman II (1980) was one of my all-time favorite flicks. Good grief, I can't tell you the number of times I sat through it in my local small-town theater, but I imagine it was more than most of you would even have given the flick a second chance. Yes, it was a bit comic bookish and over-the-top when compared to the serious tone of the original flick; but given that it was delivered with such gusto -- especially with Stamp chewing scenery as the menacing General Zod -- I really just fell in love with it.
Now, I followed Stamp's career just a bit over the decades; and I'll also admit that I sat through a solid handful of projects that, frankly, didn't interest me in the sleightest except for the fact that he appeared in them. While some of them were good, many were ... well ... let's just call them 'curious.' It wasn't that I didn't like the stories, but it was that I didn't quite relate to them on any level that others probably did. As I said, I truly only showed up to marvel at what Stamp could do, so that's all that mattered.
Alas ... none of us gets out of here alive (as they say), and that brings us to where we are.
Our warmest prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Terence Stamp.
May he rest in peace.
-- EZ
Folks, I saw the news yesterday when it broke on the Information Superhighway regarding the passage of actor Terence Stamp, but I just couldn't bring myself to put anything up last night.
As a young'un, Superman II (1980) was one of my all-time favorite flicks. Good grief, I can't tell you the number of times I sat through it in my local small-town theater, but I imagine it was more than most of you would even have given the flick a second chance. Yes, it was a bit comic bookish and over-the-top when compared to the serious tone of the original flick; but given that it was delivered with such gusto -- especially with Stamp chewing scenery as the menacing General Zod -- I really just fell in love with it.
Now, I followed Stamp's career just a bit over the decades; and I'll also admit that I sat through a solid handful of projects that, frankly, didn't interest me in the sleightest except for the fact that he appeared in them. While some of them were good, many were ... well ... let's just call them 'curious.' It wasn't that I didn't like the stories, but it was that I didn't quite relate to them on any level that others probably did. As I said, I truly only showed up to marvel at what Stamp could do, so that's all that mattered.
Alas ... none of us gets out of here alive (as they say), and that brings us to where we are.
Our warmest prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Terence Stamp.
May he rest in peace.
-- EZ
- Published on
A bit of film history, folks:
A quick search of Google.com states that filmmaker Lamberto Bava reached the height of his commercial and critical success on the Italian scene during the 1980’s; and – lo and behold – it was at this time when producers hired the storyteller to make four telefilms that would serve as the foundation for an all-new television anthology. And why not? Bava had just completed Demons (1985), Demons 2 (1986), and Delirium (1987) – a Horror trifecta that won over audiences and clearly established his particular style of cinematic paranoia along with immersing viewers into such dark plights imaginable. Breaking out of the shadow of his father’s footsteps – the much-lauded Mario Bava – here the son was trying to expand the genre by both returning to basics and ratcheting up the realism. Giving him the opportunity to continue to explore such haunts on television probably seemed like a good idea at the time, but hindsight – as they say – is always 20/20.
What happened was that Bava produced content that broadcasters found these four installments – The Prince Of Terror, The Man Who Wouldn’t Die, School Of Fear, and Eye Witness – a bit too shocking, a bit too graphic, and a bit too over-the-top for their regular viewing audiences. As a consequence, the titles fell into obscurity as some do, some seeing the light of day with limited releases on home video (VHS) here and there. Languishing as either bootlegs or choppily edited fodder, the stories were mostly forgotten except by a few who continued to champion whatever airings they could muster. It was about as grave an oversight that’s ever happened; but now, thankfully, circumstances have changed.
Severin Films has once again come to filmdom’s rescue.
Plucking these features from obscurity, the distributor has put together High Tension: Four Films By Lamberto Bava for everyone’s consumption. It’s a four-disc Blu-ray set – along with an accompanying CD Soundtrack reflecting these flicks and others from the greater Bava catalogue – and it’s set to hit the marketplace in late August 2025. They’ve gracious provided me with an advance copy, so over the next few days or so I’ll be making my way through such filmic goodness, sharing my thoughts and observations on these true originals.
Today’s review: 1993’s Eye Witness, a rather impressive crime thriller starring Barbar Cupisti, Stefano Davanzati, Alessio Orano, Giuseppe Pianviti, Wanja Mary Sellers, and others. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if the critical consensus is that this telefilm is the best of the bunch because it’s smart, presents an always timely yarn, and lays it all out on the table, leaving nothing to the audience’s guessing. A good flick that deserves some solid attention …
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
A quick search of Google.com states that filmmaker Lamberto Bava reached the height of his commercial and critical success on the Italian scene during the 1980’s; and – lo and behold – it was at this time when producers hired the storyteller to make four telefilms that would serve as the foundation for an all-new television anthology. And why not? Bava had just completed Demons (1985), Demons 2 (1986), and Delirium (1987) – a Horror trifecta that won over audiences and clearly established his particular style of cinematic paranoia along with immersing viewers into such dark plights imaginable. Breaking out of the shadow of his father’s footsteps – the much-lauded Mario Bava – here the son was trying to expand the genre by both returning to basics and ratcheting up the realism. Giving him the opportunity to continue to explore such haunts on television probably seemed like a good idea at the time, but hindsight – as they say – is always 20/20.
What happened was that Bava produced content that broadcasters found these four installments – The Prince Of Terror, The Man Who Wouldn’t Die, School Of Fear, and Eye Witness – a bit too shocking, a bit too graphic, and a bit too over-the-top for their regular viewing audiences. As a consequence, the titles fell into obscurity as some do, some seeing the light of day with limited releases on home video (VHS) here and there. Languishing as either bootlegs or choppily edited fodder, the stories were mostly forgotten except by a few who continued to champion whatever airings they could muster. It was about as grave an oversight that’s ever happened; but now, thankfully, circumstances have changed.
Severin Films has once again come to filmdom’s rescue.
Plucking these features from obscurity, the distributor has put together High Tension: Four Films By Lamberto Bava for everyone’s consumption. It’s a four-disc Blu-ray set – along with an accompanying CD Soundtrack reflecting these flicks and others from the greater Bava catalogue – and it’s set to hit the marketplace in late August 2025. They’ve gracious provided me with an advance copy, so over the next few days or so I’ll be making my way through such filmic goodness, sharing my thoughts and observations on these true originals.
Today’s review: 1993’s Eye Witness, a rather impressive crime thriller starring Barbar Cupisti, Stefano Davanzati, Alessio Orano, Giuseppe Pianviti, Wanja Mary Sellers, and others. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if the critical consensus is that this telefilm is the best of the bunch because it’s smart, presents an always timely yarn, and lays it all out on the table, leaving nothing to the audience’s guessing. A good flick that deserves some solid attention …
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Elisa and Karl in a department store at closing time are about to steal a shirt, but Karl has to run to retrieve the car. And in the dark, after closing, Elisa witnesses the murder of Mara. Commissioner Marra thus has something to start the investigation with: an eyewitness. But she immediately discovers that Elisa is blind. And when a policewoman who was supposed to protect the witness is killed, things get complicated for the commissioner. And even more complicated when his relationship with Elisa begins to become a relationship of hate-love.”
When it comes to plotting out a theatrical murder mystery, there are essential two different types.
First, some storytellers prefer to withhold the identity of the big, bad villain, focusing on ramping up the mystery so that the procedure becomes an authentic whodunnit. Some of the fun of watching such an exercise is that it gives the audience the chance to play the role of the detective as well: they get to look for clues, they get to formulate their own theories, and they get to venture a guess at just who the guilty culprit is before the big reveal. A great number of projects have used this technique chiefly because it gives the production the hallmarks of a ‘twist ending’ without really offering a great deal of ‘twist,’ if you know what I mean.
Still, the other type of murder mystery isn’t so much a mystery at all: instead, those in the audience are in on just who pulled off the nefarious deed – we’re witnesses to the event itself – and they get to watch the layers of the resulting puzzle slowly dissolve as the events are structured more around the tensions rising before the villain is ultimately found out or undone by the other characters in the evolving story. Clue aren’t nearly as significant, of course, nor is there the vicarious thrill of playing Sherlock Holmes. There might be a lesser ‘race against time’ to watching the characters save themselves, but the puzzle is secondary to the pressure percolating in their efforts to achieve a measure of justice.
In that respect, Lamberto Bava’s Eye Witness falls into the latter category.
Elisa (played by Barbara Cupisti) is perusing blouses to purchase in a ladies store when she accidentally gets locked in after closing time. While she’s trying to get out, she overhears another woman’s flight from her attacker, a chase that ultimately takes the two right up to the locked glass doors of the retailor. Right in front of her, Elisa stands silent as the woman is choked to death and then smashed through the plate glass windows, left for dead on the cold mall floor.
The problem to all of this is that Elisa is blind, meaning that even though she’s the police’s only eyewitness to the event she can’t exactly positively identify the suspect in any meaningful and lawful way. Elisa insists that her heightened skills of perception when it comes to smell and ‘sensing’ a person’s aura (of sorts) can aid Commissioner Marra (Stefano Davanzati); and the only reason the inspector is willing to hear her out is his growing fascination with the young lady. Complicating the whole affair is the fact that the killer – the department store manager (Alessio Orano) – knows that she is working with the police; and he’ll stop at nothing to hunt her down and silence her from destroying his career and identity.
“Elisa and Karl in a department store at closing time are about to steal a shirt, but Karl has to run to retrieve the car. And in the dark, after closing, Elisa witnesses the murder of Mara. Commissioner Marra thus has something to start the investigation with: an eyewitness. But she immediately discovers that Elisa is blind. And when a policewoman who was supposed to protect the witness is killed, things get complicated for the commissioner. And even more complicated when his relationship with Elisa begins to become a relationship of hate-love.”
When it comes to plotting out a theatrical murder mystery, there are essential two different types.
First, some storytellers prefer to withhold the identity of the big, bad villain, focusing on ramping up the mystery so that the procedure becomes an authentic whodunnit. Some of the fun of watching such an exercise is that it gives the audience the chance to play the role of the detective as well: they get to look for clues, they get to formulate their own theories, and they get to venture a guess at just who the guilty culprit is before the big reveal. A great number of projects have used this technique chiefly because it gives the production the hallmarks of a ‘twist ending’ without really offering a great deal of ‘twist,’ if you know what I mean.
Still, the other type of murder mystery isn’t so much a mystery at all: instead, those in the audience are in on just who pulled off the nefarious deed – we’re witnesses to the event itself – and they get to watch the layers of the resulting puzzle slowly dissolve as the events are structured more around the tensions rising before the villain is ultimately found out or undone by the other characters in the evolving story. Clue aren’t nearly as significant, of course, nor is there the vicarious thrill of playing Sherlock Holmes. There might be a lesser ‘race against time’ to watching the characters save themselves, but the puzzle is secondary to the pressure percolating in their efforts to achieve a measure of justice.
In that respect, Lamberto Bava’s Eye Witness falls into the latter category.
Elisa (played by Barbara Cupisti) is perusing blouses to purchase in a ladies store when she accidentally gets locked in after closing time. While she’s trying to get out, she overhears another woman’s flight from her attacker, a chase that ultimately takes the two right up to the locked glass doors of the retailor. Right in front of her, Elisa stands silent as the woman is choked to death and then smashed through the plate glass windows, left for dead on the cold mall floor.
The problem to all of this is that Elisa is blind, meaning that even though she’s the police’s only eyewitness to the event she can’t exactly positively identify the suspect in any meaningful and lawful way. Elisa insists that her heightened skills of perception when it comes to smell and ‘sensing’ a person’s aura (of sorts) can aid Commissioner Marra (Stefano Davanzati); and the only reason the inspector is willing to hear her out is his growing fascination with the young lady. Complicating the whole affair is the fact that the killer – the department store manager (Alessio Orano) – knows that she is working with the police; and he’ll stop at nothing to hunt her down and silence her from destroying his career and identity.
Now, there is a bit more to the story as plotted out by Bava and screenwriters Massimo De Rita, Andrea Piazzesi, and Giorgio Stegani; but a fair amount of that is what critics might refer to as ‘set dressing’ that doesn’t really do anything more than give the film a bit of extra flavor. As she’s blind, Elisa had a friend from her nearby commune accompanying her on the big trip to the city – Karl (Giuseppe Pianviti) – and the troubled young man winds up being ‘considered’ by the police in their pursuit of a quick and easy solution to the investigation. There’s also a second police officer involved in the script – a female – who winds up dead in a curious bit of mistaken identity. While interesting, these developments really don’t advance the story in any meaningful way but rather serve to distract the players from closing in on the truth more quickly than Bava could deliver, which would make Eye Witness a vastly shorter film.
Still, Bava smartly builds the action around separating Elisa from the police and relocating his procedural to the aforementioned commune, a place where the differently abled coexist peacefully by relying heavily upon the support of those around them. Eventually, our assassin has to infiltrate his victim’s favored stomping grounds; and this turns out to be a bridge too far when she and her friends rather capably turn the tables on him with a set-up that’ll also find them innocent even though they commit a collective atrocity to protect themselves against one lone and depraved killer. As the saying goes, there’s always safety in numbers, even if those numbers aren’t exactly ‘whole’ when compared to folks living without such physical or sensory disadvantages.
Eye Witness resembles a great many like-minded thrillers audiences have embraced before and (probably) since.
1967’s Wait Until Dark plumbed the depths of isolation pitting a blind woman against three would-be assailants looking to recover a doll they think is stuffed with heroin; and 1971’s See No Evil showcases a blind woman frantically on-the-run from a bloodthirsty lunatic who killed her family. 1985’s Witness removes blindness from the equation, choosing to make the unfortunate bystander a young Amish boy who finds himself up against a police task force crooked as the day is long. This is the same territory that Bava uses to cast his landscape of domestic chiller; and it’s fairly easy to see exactly where all of it is heading despite any minor obfuscation the skilled director might force in the way. In other words, everyone knows this is all building to a showdown between the good and bad; what they don’t know is precisely what that destination might resemble until we get there. But without a doubt, Elisa’s skills will be no match for her adversary, and that is proven true in the closing stages.
Where Eye Witness fails to reach high marks is the fact that Bava leaves a bit of the killer’s motivations a bit nebulous. Initially, he’s played up to be a run-of-the-mill rapist who had the hots for his deliciously buxom secretary, only them to curiously evolve into a predator who apparently gets his sexual jollies by strangling a partner to death. Were that the case, then wouldn’t the man have some previous record of doing this? Were there really no warning signs for anyone involved along the way? And how did he apparently ‘get away with it' for so long without being questioned as a suspect? It’s all a bit too vague, and the script could’ve used a bit more substance in that regard.
Also, Eye Witness feels a bit bloated at times because of Bava’s artistic tendencies. Several sequences stretch out longer than are absolutely necessary, likely as the director though he was both establishing atmosphere and letting the tensions rise. I’ll always argue that I don’t need to see every single step a woman takes across a long apartment corridor unless there’s some really elaborate surprise at the ending: when there isn’t, then why was I forced to plod along with each and every movement? It’s a false sense of anxiety – one that cheapens the ride – and a bit of trimming was definitely in order.
Still, Bava smartly builds the action around separating Elisa from the police and relocating his procedural to the aforementioned commune, a place where the differently abled coexist peacefully by relying heavily upon the support of those around them. Eventually, our assassin has to infiltrate his victim’s favored stomping grounds; and this turns out to be a bridge too far when she and her friends rather capably turn the tables on him with a set-up that’ll also find them innocent even though they commit a collective atrocity to protect themselves against one lone and depraved killer. As the saying goes, there’s always safety in numbers, even if those numbers aren’t exactly ‘whole’ when compared to folks living without such physical or sensory disadvantages.
Eye Witness resembles a great many like-minded thrillers audiences have embraced before and (probably) since.
1967’s Wait Until Dark plumbed the depths of isolation pitting a blind woman against three would-be assailants looking to recover a doll they think is stuffed with heroin; and 1971’s See No Evil showcases a blind woman frantically on-the-run from a bloodthirsty lunatic who killed her family. 1985’s Witness removes blindness from the equation, choosing to make the unfortunate bystander a young Amish boy who finds himself up against a police task force crooked as the day is long. This is the same territory that Bava uses to cast his landscape of domestic chiller; and it’s fairly easy to see exactly where all of it is heading despite any minor obfuscation the skilled director might force in the way. In other words, everyone knows this is all building to a showdown between the good and bad; what they don’t know is precisely what that destination might resemble until we get there. But without a doubt, Elisa’s skills will be no match for her adversary, and that is proven true in the closing stages.
Where Eye Witness fails to reach high marks is the fact that Bava leaves a bit of the killer’s motivations a bit nebulous. Initially, he’s played up to be a run-of-the-mill rapist who had the hots for his deliciously buxom secretary, only them to curiously evolve into a predator who apparently gets his sexual jollies by strangling a partner to death. Were that the case, then wouldn’t the man have some previous record of doing this? Were there really no warning signs for anyone involved along the way? And how did he apparently ‘get away with it' for so long without being questioned as a suspect? It’s all a bit too vague, and the script could’ve used a bit more substance in that regard.
Also, Eye Witness feels a bit bloated at times because of Bava’s artistic tendencies. Several sequences stretch out longer than are absolutely necessary, likely as the director though he was both establishing atmosphere and letting the tensions rise. I’ll always argue that I don’t need to see every single step a woman takes across a long apartment corridor unless there’s some really elaborate surprise at the ending: when there isn’t, then why was I forced to plod along with each and every movement? It’s a false sense of anxiety – one that cheapens the ride – and a bit of trimming was definitely in order.
But as a whole I liked Eye Witness if for no other reason than it knew what it was, where it was heading, and delivered me there with minimal surprise but maximum effect. Cupisti made for a fetching centerpiece even though she’s occasionally shackled with dialogue that feels like it would’ve been coming from a much younger potential victim; and Davanzati – despite succumbing to all-too-typical sexual attraction with the lady he’s trying to protect – also feels like his lead inspector had everyone’s best interests at heart across his investigation. The added flavor of a few subplots never accounted to anything more than side dishes to an effective main course, so much so that they got out of the way when no longer needed and left me to enjoy the meal.
Eye Witness (1993) was produced by Hamster Productions, La Cinq (La 5), and Reteitalia. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Severin Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought the provided sights and sounds to this 2K restoration (from the original camera negative) were quite good, though I’ll admit that the English-dubbed track occasionally didn’t quite match up the way I’ve seen done better elsewhere. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? There are a few shorts here – good – along with an audio commentary track from Nathaniel Thompson and Troy Howarth: I’ve mentioned before problems with actually comprehending Thompson – he speaks far too quickly for my ears, sounding more like a failed auctioneer than a great commentator – and, sadly, the same is true here. Someone really needs to tell that guy to slow down a bit.
Strongly Recommended.
Because Eye Witness (1993) might not be viewed as all that original by some, I suspect that the title could be overlooked; and I find that very sad. It possesses solid enough central performances and an interesting enough premise to carry its own weight from start-to-finish; and Cupisti really rules the day come the showdown her character orchestrates to protect herself and those around her (whether she intended it or not). I will concede that the villain could’ve used a bit more substance behind what I suspect had to be a campaign of terror that exists before his dark deeds here; and, yet, overall, I still had a good deal of respect for Bava’s efficiency as a visual storyteller. It’s not without a bit of Giallo-style bloat but a winning effort come the ending.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Severin Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Eye Witness (1993) as part of their High Tension: Four Films By Lamberto Bava release by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. This contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Eye Witness (1993) was produced by Hamster Productions, La Cinq (La 5), and Reteitalia. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Severin Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought the provided sights and sounds to this 2K restoration (from the original camera negative) were quite good, though I’ll admit that the English-dubbed track occasionally didn’t quite match up the way I’ve seen done better elsewhere. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? There are a few shorts here – good – along with an audio commentary track from Nathaniel Thompson and Troy Howarth: I’ve mentioned before problems with actually comprehending Thompson – he speaks far too quickly for my ears, sounding more like a failed auctioneer than a great commentator – and, sadly, the same is true here. Someone really needs to tell that guy to slow down a bit.
Strongly Recommended.
Because Eye Witness (1993) might not be viewed as all that original by some, I suspect that the title could be overlooked; and I find that very sad. It possesses solid enough central performances and an interesting enough premise to carry its own weight from start-to-finish; and Cupisti really rules the day come the showdown her character orchestrates to protect herself and those around her (whether she intended it or not). I will concede that the villain could’ve used a bit more substance behind what I suspect had to be a campaign of terror that exists before his dark deeds here; and, yet, overall, I still had a good deal of respect for Bava’s efficiency as a visual storyteller. It’s not without a bit of Giallo-style bloat but a winning effort come the ending.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Severin Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Eye Witness (1993) as part of their High Tension: Four Films By Lamberto Bava release by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. This contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- Published on
site update
So many movies ... so little time ...
On this day in 1972 (in Italy), Your Vice Is A Locked Room And Only I Have The Key (aka Il tuo vizio è una stanza chiusa e solo io ne ho la chiave) released as one of the longest film titles I think I've ever learned of. Directed by Sergio Martino from a story by Edgar Allan Poe, Luciano Martino, Sauro Scavolini, Ernesto Gastaldi, and Adriano Bolzoni, the film starred Edwige Fenech, Anita Strindberg, Luigi Pistilli, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"A string of murders are committed near the estate of a degenerate author, whose abusive relationship with his wife is further complicated by the arrival of his manipulative niece."
-- EZ
On this day in 1972 (in Italy), Your Vice Is A Locked Room And Only I Have The Key (aka Il tuo vizio è una stanza chiusa e solo io ne ho la chiave) released as one of the longest film titles I think I've ever learned of. Directed by Sergio Martino from a story by Edgar Allan Poe, Luciano Martino, Sauro Scavolini, Ernesto Gastaldi, and Adriano Bolzoni, the film starred Edwige Fenech, Anita Strindberg, Luigi Pistilli, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"A string of murders are committed near the estate of a degenerate author, whose abusive relationship with his wife is further complicated by the arrival of his manipulative niece."
-- EZ
- Published on
site update
So many movies ... so little time ...
On this day in 2018 (in the U.S.), home audiences were electrified over the broadcast television premiere of Nightmare Shark. Written and directed (in part) by Griff Furst, the film starred Tony Amendola, Bobby Campo, Rachele Brooke Smith, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"Survivors of previous shark attacks are hunted by a supernatural shark in their dreams."
-- EZ
On this day in 2018 (in the U.S.), home audiences were electrified over the broadcast television premiere of Nightmare Shark. Written and directed (in part) by Griff Furst, the film starred Tony Amendola, Bobby Campo, Rachele Brooke Smith, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"Survivors of previous shark attacks are hunted by a supernatural shark in their dreams."
-- EZ
- Published on
site update
So many movies ... so little time ...
On this day in 1998 (in the U.S.), Men In White delivered a broad brand of parody to the recent slate of Science Fiction and Fantasy films. Directed by Scott P. Levy from a story by Rob Kerchner and Scott Sandin, the film starred Tom Wilson, Karim Prince, Brion James, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"Spoof of recent science fiction films including all of the obvious choices and "Dr. Strangelove" finds two garbage men defeating an alien invasion."
-- EZ
On this day in 1998 (in the U.S.), Men In White delivered a broad brand of parody to the recent slate of Science Fiction and Fantasy films. Directed by Scott P. Levy from a story by Rob Kerchner and Scott Sandin, the film starred Tom Wilson, Karim Prince, Brion James, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"Spoof of recent science fiction films including all of the obvious choices and "Dr. Strangelove" finds two garbage men defeating an alien invasion."
-- EZ
- Published on
site update
So many movies ... so little time ...
On this day in 2006 (in the U.S.), the 'found footage format' received another entry with the release of Dementia: An Experiment In Terror. Written (in part) and directed by B. Luciano Barsuglia, the film starred Barsuglia alongside Marcus Barcroft, Steve Braden, Christine Cowden, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"Gein. Bundy. Dahmer. Ramirez. These were real people. These were the ones that were caught. There are others that never get caught and their victims never found. Imagine going to bed on Friday, and waking up on Saturday, a prisoner ... a victim ... a statistic."
-- EZ
On this day in 2006 (in the U.S.), the 'found footage format' received another entry with the release of Dementia: An Experiment In Terror. Written (in part) and directed by B. Luciano Barsuglia, the film starred Barsuglia alongside Marcus Barcroft, Steve Braden, Christine Cowden, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"Gein. Bundy. Dahmer. Ramirez. These were real people. These were the ones that were caught. There are others that never get caught and their victims never found. Imagine going to bed on Friday, and waking up on Saturday, a prisoner ... a victim ... a statistic."
-- EZ