Tenet (2020), directed by Christopher Nolan. “Nolan has mentioned on occasion that he’d rather like to direct a Bond movie, and for much of its 2½-hour running time Tenet comes across as an 007 romp that’s been force-fed a course in temporal relativity and advanced nuclear physics” (Philip Kemp in Sight & Sound). Kemp pretty much says it all here. This is Bond in overdrive, over-stuffed, and over-kill. Everything is outsize here. And it is not less enjoyable for all that. Sure, the physics are beyond me, and the time pincer thing is wild, but basically what we have here is an operative out to save the world from a crazed villain out to destroy the world along with himself. Throw in Bond cars, Bond boats, a Bond girl, a Bond gadget expert, a Bond sidekick, and lots of Bond explosions and you have Tenet. This may be at the same time Nolan’s most ambitious film, and his most obvious film. Characters are mildly fleshed out. Well perhaps not. The visuals are, as expected, intriguing, if somewhat confusing as time and entropy work both forward and backward simultaneously. Some bullets do what we normally expect them to do and fly forward, and some do what they never do and fly back into the barrel of the gun from which they had (when?) emerged. The same is true of explosions and speeding cars – some appear to go in reverse (in the case of cars, I mean this literally) and some go as- what? – normal. As for the title, it has little meaning except for the fact that the word is a palindrome. In other words, the film is, after a fashion, a palindrome. Things in it end where they begin and begin where they end. As the Beatles have it: come together, right now, over me. 

Honest Thief (2020), directed by Mark Williams. Well sometimes you just have to dip into a small genre, in this case the old-guy-with-special-skills-Liam Neeson-making-mayhem-until-the-comfortable-ending genre. About this film, Christy Lemire accurately sums things up when she remarks: "Perfectly serviceable and utterly forgettable, “Honest Thief” nonetheless offers a few pleasing details to keep it from being a total slog." Now just what are these few pleasing details? First we have the dog, a cute canine who steals scenes without even a bark or a whimper. Then we have Annie (Kate Walsh) a feisty woman who stands by her man. And of course we have the reliably sturdy Liam whose skill in this one is blowing things up, not that he blows a lot of things up, but he can blow things up and we know this. If you enjoy this genre (other examples include The Grey, Taken and its sequels, A Walk Among The Tombstones, Unknown, etc), then this one just may satisfy.

 

Indian Horse (2017), directed by Stephen S. Campanelli. The film is based on the 2012 novel by Richard Wagamese, and it follows the trajectory of that novel faithfully. At the center of things here is a school and a hockey rink. The school is a Residential School run by the Catholic Church and the hockey rink is a makeshift affair in the school grounds. The action takes place from the mid 1950s to the late 1970s. What makes this story so powerful is the conjunction of hockey with freedom and imprisonment. Young Saul Indian Horse discovers he has a gift for playing hockey, a gift encouraged by one of the young male priests at the school. Hockey provides a release from the miseries brought on by life in the Residential School, and these miseries are manifold: loss of language, loss of culture, loss if identity, terrible food, no freedom, beatings, suicide, and more. Saul finds satisfaction and confidence while on the ice scoring goals. He proves to be so good that he eventually finds himself sought after by the Toronto Maple Leafs in the NHL. However, hockey also has its flip side, its dark side. This dark side comes not only with racist slurs and taunting, but also with unwanted embraces from one who should know better, should be better. In short, Saul’s life is twisted into confusion, alcoholism, and dislocation by his childhood experiences in the Residential School. The story is a powerful indictment of an ugly racist system put in place by a government bent on eradicating First Nations in Canada. The focus on hockey is brilliant in its awareness that that which can bring release may also bring imprisonment. Canada’s national game may also share Canada’s national shame.

 

I Care a Lot (2020), directed by J. Blakeson. I wanted to like this film because it sets out to examine a culture of narcissism, greed, bullying, and grift. In other words, it seems the perfect fit for the past four years. It also shows abuse of the elderly, something that should resonate. Oh, and it has that neo-noirish sensibility we have come to recognize in latter day films such as Gone Girl. In fact, this one has Gone Girl's icy femme fatale, Rosamond Pike, in the main role. She is, like all the other characters in this movie, unlikeable. And herein lies a problem. Spending two hours with these characters is a chore. I know that films can hold us with characters we do not especially like, but when the only likeable character in a film is the one who shoots the main character and who acts crazy, then you have a problem. This film definitely has its moments. Peter Dinklage and Rosamond Pike are interesting actors and even likeable when they play fairly likeable characters. Here they do not play characters who are at all likeable. But, as I say, the film does catch our cultural moment uncomfortably and nicely.

 How about a few westerns.

The Savage Horde (1950), directed by the prolific Joseph Kane. Kane was a regular at Republic Studios churning out westers with the likes of Roy Rogers, John Wayne, Rod Cameron, Forrest Tucker, and ‘Wild Bill’ Elliott. Elliot is the star of The Savage Horde, along with a gallery of familiar players from countless westerns: Earle Hodgins, Douglas Dumbrille, Marshall Reed, Hal Taliaferro, Noah Berry, Jr., Bob Steele, Grant Withers, Will Wright, and so on. Bob Steele is a villainous, sneering gunslinger and Earle Hodgins is the comic gun salesman; the two provide memorable performances. William Elliott is the sturdy and stoic hero; he is on the run from the cavalry because he has killed an army officer (in self defense, of course). He finds himself in the town of Gunlock where small ranchers are quarreling with the big boss rancher who wants all their cattle and land. This is familiar stuff, and the plot plays out predictably. It also plays out efficiently under the capable direction of Kane who handles the action well. The characters are well defined, and they even have some dimension. The transitions from location shots to sets and back to location shots in single scenes are better than we might expect for such low budget fare. All in all, this is a pleasant oater!

 

The Gunfighter (1950), directed by Henry King. One of the best-known westerns of the early 1950s, The Gunfighter has the brooding mood and darkness of a film such as The Ox-Bow Incident (1942). The story is simple. Gunfighter Jimmy Ringo (Gregory Peck) comes to town to see his wife and son after an eight-year absence. His old friend, Mark Strett (Millard Mitchell) is the town marshal who does not carry a gun and who wears just one spur. Anyway, Ringo is the object of curiosity and he also attracts young men looking to make a reputation. Most of the film takes place indoors, especially in the saloon where Ringo waits to see his wife and son. The sense of enclosure and entrapment is palpable. The focus is on character, not action, and the film has little gunplay. Noteworthy is the first confrontation between Ringo and a young spark looking to make his reputation. We see the young man draw, hear gunshots, then cut quickly to a shot of Ringo standing at the bar with a glass in one hand and a gun in the other. The young man lies on the floor. The film is distinguished by Arthur C. Miller’s cinematography, his careful use of light and shades of grey, and his deep focus. Miller worked with John Ford on The Long Voyage Home (1940) and How Green Was My Valley (1941); he won an Oscar for the latter film. This is the film referenced in Bob Dylan’s “Brownsville Girl.”

 

The Naked Dawn (1955), directed by Edgar G. Ulmer. Ulmer, the efficient director of intimate B-grade films, made only two westerns. This is the second. The first, for those who might like to know, is Thunder Over Texas (1934), a film he made under the pseudonym, John Warner. The Naked Dawn is one of the few colour films Ulmer made, and it looks fine. Francois Truffaut claims that it influenced his film, Jules et Jim. He does not specify in what way Ulmer’s film influenced him, but both films are about a love triangle, if this helps. In The Naked Dawn, Arthur Kennedy plays a Mexican bandit, Santiago, who happens across a small farmhouse with rather naïve newlyweds. Santiago befriends these young people, gets the young man in some trouble, attracts the young woman, and generally has a rousing time, playing the part with gusto. The plot owes something to films such as The Treasure of Sierra Madre and Lust for Gold and other films that deal with greed and desire.  It also may owe something to Fritz Lang’s Rancho Notorious in its insistence on interiors that reinforce the feeling of enclosure. Although a western, The Naked Dawn is less than clear regarding the time of the action. The motorized vehicles suggest a period as late as the 1930s. Anyway, I like the look of this film, Kennedy’s quite robust acting, and the efficiency of the directing.

 A couple of films by William Cameron Menzies.

Address Unknown (1944) directed by William Cameron Menzies.. This is a rare thing: an epistolary movie. Letters carry the plot; they are also central to the unfolding of character. The story takes place on the eve of the Second World War. Two friends and partners in the art business in San Francisco live comfortable lives and look forward to a marriage between the one friend’s son and the other’s daughter. First, however, one friend, Martin Schulz (Paul Lukas) is returning to his homeland, Germany, to conduct some business for the two partners. Accompanying him is his family and the daughter of his friend. The young woman, Griselle Eisenstein (K. T. Stevens), hopes to begin an acting career in Germany. Staying at home with the Eisenstein’s is Heinrich Schulz (Peter van Eyck), Martin’s eldest son. So begins the story that takes place both in Berlin and in San Francisco. In Berlin, Martin finds a new friend in the oily Baron von Friesche (Carl Esmond) who convinces Martin to cease correspondence with his American Jewish partner. Soon Giselle’s identity as a Jew (she had changed her name for the stage) becomes known and things grow dark, very dark. This is a chilling tale of authoritarianism and hatred of others who supposedly differ from those in control. It involves self-interest and cowardice. The film is short and blunt. Of course, it is also a feast for the eyes with art direction by Menzies and cinematography by Rudolph Mate who knows a thing or two about shadows and light.

 

The Maze (1953), directed by William Cameron Menzies. Menzies is one of the great set designers in the Hollywood Studio era. The Maze is his last film and lesser known than Invaders From Mars of the same year. The Maze will not disappoint viewers looking for atmosphere and gothic delights. The Scottish castle has oversize stairs, doorways, windows, tables, cavernous hallways, everything to make the characters look smaller than they are. No one speaks with a Scottish accent – well, almost no one. The lighting is suitably dark, enhancing the macabre feel to this strange tale. The maze is also nicely done, although we do not spend much time inside its tall thick greenery. Some find the end disappointing, but not me. Once the secret is fully revealed, what we have is a bizarre monster both absurd and wildly appealing (to me – reminds me of the Grimm story, “The Frog Prince”). Throughout much of the film, the hero, Gerald MacTeam (Richard Carlson), sits reading a book with the ominous title: Teratology. What he hopes to glean from this tome remains unknown, but we understand he looks for anything to explain the weird creature that has inhabited Craven Castle for over 200 years. The Maze is a stylish exercise in the gothic. The acting may be somewhat stiff, the narrative point of view may be slightly odd, the dialogue may be a bit stilted, but, man, the look of the film is stunning.