The Colossus of New York

(1958) Directed by Eugène Lourié; Written by Thelma Schnee; Based on a story by Willis Goldbeck; Starring: John Baragrey, Mala Powers, Otto Kruger and Ross Martin;

Available on Blu-ray and DVD

Rating: ***

“…any brain divorced from human experience must become dehumanized to the point of monstrousness.” – Dr. John Robert Carrington (Robert Hutton)

I’m not entirely sure when I first watched The Colossus of New York on TV, but it left a huge impact on my impressionable young mind.  I was fascinated and terrified by images of a lumbering robot with a human brain, which continued to resonate decades later.  Based on my childhood memories, I came to regard the film as an obscure classic, despite the fact that I was unable to see it for many years afterward.  Thanks to the film’s recent release on DVD, I was able to experience it again.  Knowing that it was impossible to duplicate the impact that it once had, would still hold up after all these years?

When gifted scientist/inventor Dr. Jeremy Spensser (Ross Martin of Wild, Wild West fame) dies in a tragic accident, his father, Dr. William Spensser (Otto Kruger), does what any grieving parent (okay, maybe not every grieving parent) would do, and endeavors to keep the brain alive.  He enlists the aid of Jeremy’s brother Henry (John Baragrey) to design a robot body to house the brain.  As Jeremy regains consciousness, he isn’t too pleased with his new corporeal arrangements.  Bereft of the ability to smell, taste or feel, he’s a prisoner in his artificial body.  His father convinces him to continue his experiments in secret, for the benefit of humankind.  It’s an uneasy arrangement that works for a time, until Jeremy decides that humanity isn’t worth saving.

Makeup supervisor Wally Westmore’s imposing robotic creation is the true star of The Colossus of New York.  While it evokes comparison to Paul Wegener’s Golem and Boris Karloff’s Frankenstein monster, Westmore’s robot is a truly original piece of work.  In fact, the results are so intimidating that they beg the question why anyone would want to create an oversized and immensely powerful body for a potentially unstable brain.  Of course, the real answer is so the robot can go berserk and embark on a rampage through the streets of Manhattan.  Unable to experience physical love, isolated from his wife and son, and confined to a small private laboratory (back in the days when every aspiring scientist had one built into their home), it’s only a matter of time before Jeremy flips his lid.  Thankfully, for the purpose of plot convenience, he’s equipped with a handy shut-off switch on his side.

Sadly, the human characters in the film are much less effective.  William comes across as self-righteous, while Henry just seems smug.  Jeremy’s widow Anne (Mala Powers) plays the stereotypical helpless female protagonist, thwarting Henry’s clumsy advances, while failing to ask the most basic questions about experiments being conducted right under her nose.  Even when she suspects something is awry, she fails to press the issue, even when William admonishes her not to see her son Billy in the daytime (conveniently enabling Jeremy to meet with Billy in secret). The filmmakers seem hell-bent on presenting the Jeremy robot as a monster, but William is the true antagonist.  (Spoiler Alert) His half-assed little speech at the end of the movie about the brain not containing a soul ignores the tenderness that Jeremy displays for his son.  His expression of remorse does little to absolve his poor decisions throughout the film, nor does he receive the comeuppance his character deserves (usually a 50s sci-fi staple).

Despite the film’s problematic elements, there’s a lot that clicks.  Lourié, who worked predominantly as an art director, imbues an atmospheric, pseudo-gothic feel to the movie.     Shots of the errant robot lurking in the shadows recall German expressionism, and scenes involving Jeremy walking underwater possess a dreamlike quality.  Van Cleave’s subdued piano-based score contributes to an overwhelming sense of dread.  I also can’t forget the robot’s plaintive, screeching wail, which follows his initial activation.  It’s nothing short of nightmare fuel.

The Colossus of New York may not have been the lost classic I had anticipated, but it’s still a moderately effective take on the Frankenstein formula.  Westmore’s unforgettable creation and a dark, pervasive atmosphere mostly offset the poor characterizations and uninspired story.  It’s interesting to note that many of the themes presented in the film (such as where man ends and machine begins) would be explored thirty years later, albeit more successfully, with Robocop. Although The Colossus of New York may not have followed through with the more provocative issues it raises, it remains a worthwhile attempt.   

June Quick Picks and Pans – Australia Month

Proof (1991) Writer/director Jocelyn Moorhouse’s debut film features great early roles by Hugo Weaving and Russell Crowe.  Weaving stars as Martin, a blind man who documents his world through photography.  He befriends Andy (Crowe), a busboy at a restaurant, and tasks him with describing his photos in an effort to confirm that the images represent reality.  Martin’s housekeeper Celia (Geneviève Picot) constantly toys with him, rearranging his furniture and hiding his things to push buttons. 

Proof is a fascinating character study populated by emotionally stunted individuals.  Martin and Celia, stumble around in the dark, but fail to connect.  They’re prisoners of their ambivalence toward each other.  Martin is embroiled in a perpetual struggle to make sense of reality, which involves an inherent mistrust of people.  Celia is in love with Martin, but resorts to elaborate mind games and deception as her primary tools of interaction.  Proof is at once an amusing portrait of human eccentricity and a painful exploration of dysfunctional relationships.   

Rating: ****.  Available on DVD

Red Dog (2011) Based on a book by Louis de Bernières about a legendary canine that roamed a small mining town in 1970s Northwestern Australia, Red Dog blends fact and fiction to create a bittersweet story of love and community.  Director Kriv Stenders and writer Daniel Taplitz spin a contemporary folk yarn (sort of a postmodern Old Yeller), which packs a surprisingly emotional wallop.  As the eponymous, wayward dog ingratiates himself to the town’s diverse inhabitants, he becomes an agent of change amidst the harsh landscape, provoking a series of serendipitous encounters.  Red Dog hooks you with verve and humor, which does little to soften the blow of its emotional climax. Maybe I’m just a pushover for this sort of thing, but it’s hard to imagine not being affected by this simple, yet effective story.  If you have a pulse, or if you’re a dog lover, like me, you’ll want to bring the Kleenex.

Rating: ****.  Available on Blu-ray, DVD and Netflix Streaming

Kenny (2006) Director/co-writer Clayton Jacobson takes an unsavory topic for his mockumentary, and manages to make it engaging.  Shane Jacobson (who shares co-writing credit with the film with his brother Clayton) does a terrific job as Kenny Smyth, a likeable working stiff who finds solace working for a portable toilet/waste disposal company.  We witness his challenges and minor triumphs as he contends with crap, literally and figuratively in his personal and professional life. 

Kenny’s strength is also its weakness.  The acting by the performers (including Shane’s real-life father and son), is spot-on, and the everyday situations he encounters in his job seem entirely plausible.  It was easy to forget the film was a complete fabrication, and not someone’s actual life.  As a result, I wish the filmmakers had thrown in a few more absurd artistic flourishes.  The material also seems to be stretched thin at times, and scenes with Kenny stuck in his day-to-day grind get to be a bit redundant.  While the Jacobson brothers could have easily left some of the footage on the cutting room floor, the end result (pun unintended) is amiable enough, and definitely worth your time.  I was glad to have had the chance to meet Kenny.

Rating: *** ½.  Available on DVD and Netflix Streaming

Dead End Drive-In (1986) This intriguing film from director Brian Trenchard-Smith recalls Escape from New York, with Joe Lansdale’s novel, The Drive-in thrown in for good measure.  The film is set in the near future, after society has suffered a global economic collapse.  Rampant unemployment and restless youth are the norm in this changed social milieu.  Government officials resort to extreme measures to deal with the rising incidents of juvenile delinquency.  Young people are lured to the Star Drive-In to spend their idle time.  There’s just one catch: once they enter, they can’t leave.  They become prisoners of the state, left to eke out an existence in their new walled compound while movies play in the background (including scenes from Trenchard-Smith’s Turkey Shoot).  Dead End Drive-In sneaks in some social commentary, seeming to equate Australia with the drive-in, an island isolated from the rest of humanity.  Ned Manning plays the protagonist, Crabs, who just wants to escape, disgusted by the contingent of white supremacists that have taken over the drive-in.  It’s a silly premise that somehow works.

Rating: ***.   Available on DVD and Netflix Streaming

Escape 2000 (aka: Turkey Shoot) (1981) How could something so wrong seem so right?  Brian Trenchard-Smith directs this piece of dystopian exploitation, set in the future world of 1995(!).  Under the regime of a fascist dictatorship, dissidents are placed in internment camps for re-education.  Steve Railsback and Olivia Hussey play political prisoners, watched over by a sadistic head guard (Roger Ward).  I don’t need to overstate that Escape 2000 isn’t for everyone.  It’s exploitation through and through, packed with gratuitous nudity, rampant violence and over-the-top gory deaths, but I had a heck of a lot of fun with it (probably more than I’d care to admit).  It’s a variation of The Most Dangerous Game, along with shades of 1984, wrapped in a sleazy, but oddly entertaining package.

Rating: ***.  Available on DVD

Long Weekend (1978) Peter and Marcia (played by John Hargreaves and Briony Behets, respectively) embark on a camping trip, under the auspices of rekindling their strained marriage.  Instead, they find every possible opportunity to argue.  Director Colin Eggleston, working from Everett De Roche’s screenplay, suggests nature has become an antagonist, possibly as a reaction to the couple’s disintegrating relationship.  Long Weekend plays a bit like Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf mixed with Frogs, with its conflicting themes of marital discord and the natural world in revolt.  It all gets a bit tedious by the last third.  There’s only so much time you can spend with two bickering main characters before it gets really uncomfortable, but this was probably the point.

Rating: ***.  Available on DVD

Inn of the Damned (1975) The Australian film industry experienced a renaissance in the 1970s, stretching boundaries and breaking new ground.  Unfortunately, the revitalized industry also allowed for this dud, which attempts to combine the western and horror genres and fails miserably at both.  It’s two (count ‘em), two rotten stories in one!   Writer/director Terry Bourke borrows liberally from spaghetti westerns and sociopath- in-the-house movies to tell the story of a remote inn where the guests keep vanishing.  At least a half-hour could have been snipped from the bloated running time of nearly two hours.  The standard western outlaw subplot contributes nothing to the terror and only adds to the tedium.  You might feel damned after watching this flick, since the only thing you’re liable to experience is an overwhelming sense of boredom.

Rating: * ½.  Available on DVD

Cinematic Dregs: Young Einstein

(1988) Directed by Yahoo Serious; Written by Yahoo Serious and David Roach; Starring: Yahoo Serious, Odile Le Clezio, John Howard, Peewee Wilson and Su Cruickshank; 

Available on DVD.

Rating:**

“…Then there's the time the country rallies together to beat back Hell, like the time we as a nation said no to Yahoo Serious.”  Joel (Joel Hodgson) from Mystery Science Theater 3000

After nearly 25 years ago, it was time to confront my demons, and revisit a dark period in my past that I had kept hidden from the world.  While my memory of Young Einstein was somewhat hazy, I seemed to recall the film as eccentric and misunderstood.  As a video store clerk, I was prone to championing it to anyone who’d listen.  I’d quote a few choice lines at the drop of a hat, and even purchased the soundtrack.  Now I’m not saying that I was off the mark with all of my movie choices, but everyone makes an error in judgment now and then.*  Realizing that tastes change over the years, I knew that time was nigh to re-evaluate my assessment of Young Einstein.  Could I have been wrong?  Was it an unfairly maligned comic gem or an unfunny misfire worthy of our collective scorn?

* Referencing my first, ill-chosen pick for a girlfriend, my mom commented, “You have taste in your ass.”  Take that as you will. 

So, what did a second viewing, separated by two and a half decades, yield?  Was Young Einstein as bad as its reputation suggested?  Yes and no.  Humor is a subjective thing.  Some people find Adam Sandler hilarious and Woody Allen grating.  Some prefer Buster Keaton’s antics to Charlie Chaplin’s Little Tramp.  There’s no surefire formula for comedy, and there’s no accounting for taste.  With this in mind, I can only report that I found Young Einstein sporadically amusing, and by sporadic, I mean a couple scenes elicited a smirk.  Not to say there weren’t some clever visual gags, but they were often nullified by the film’s mugging lead.

The film asks us to take a huge leap by accepting its basic premise – Albert Einstein didn’t really grow up in Germany, but on a Tasmanian apple farm.  If you’re good with that, then you’ll probably accept anything, as its titular character hobnobs with science luminaries Charles Darwin, Sigmund Freud and Marie Curie.  Young Einstein plays fast and loose with history and science, as our hero simultaneously discovers the theory of relativity, invents rock ‘n roll and puts bubbles in beer.  When an apple lands on Einstein’s head, resulting in an epiphany, we need to suspend our disbelief that the laws of gravity weren’t discovered before 1906. 

Yahoo Serious (aka: Greg Pead), who started out with documentary and short comic films, took the auteur route (and I use the term “auteur” very loosely here) with Young Einstein.  His name appears in the credits six (!) times, as star, director, writer, producer, stunts and supervising editor.  It’s a lot of pieces to juggle, and unfortunately Mr. Serious can’t keep everything in the air for long.  First the good.  He obviously has an eye for visuals, with some nicely framed vistas and elaborate set pieces.  The film is infused with frenetic energy, which might not keep you from being annoyed, but you won’t be bored.  But Serious’ enthusiasm is also his undoing.  He seems like a precocious child who will try anything to get your attention, waving his arms about and shouting, “Look at me, look at me!  Aren’t I funny?”  Some of the questionable comic choices were obviously cribbed from old Warner Brothers cartoons, as when he shows up twice in blackface to simulate getting fried by electricity.  The soundtrack is peppered with wacky sounds to punctuate the “silly” moments.   While the music tracks represent a nice sampling of Aussie pop and rock from the 80s, they contribute to scenes that resemble music videos rather than integral parts of a whole (what Roger Ebert would have labeled the “Semi-Obligatory Lyrical Interlude”).  When he frolics on the beach with his girlfriend and newly invented surfboard, the results look like something from the old Monkees TV show.

As I re-watched Young Einstein, I was painfully aware of the fact that I wasn’t nearly as fond of it as I remembered.  While the film was a huge hit in Australia (despite mixed critical reception), it failed to win over many fans in the United States.  Perhaps my original impression was obscured by my post-adolescent desire to buck the trend of popular opinion?  I suppose I’ll never be able to reconcile this chaotic stage in my past.   Young Einstein is best described as a near miss; a curiosity best left as a cinematic footnote.  Serious swings for the fences, but ends up with a foul ball.  I’m keeping the soundtrack, though.

Mary and Max

(2009) Written and directed by Adam Elliot; Starring: Toni Collette, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Barry Humphries and Eric Bana; Available on Blu-ray, DVD and Netflix Streaming.

Rating: ****

“Max hoped Mary would write again. He'd always wanted a friend. A friend that wasn't invisible, a pet or rubber figurine.” – Narrator (Barry Humphries)

It’s hard to imagine there was a time, not too long ago, when people corresponded through letters, and would wait days, weeks, or even months for a reply.  Now we’re instantly connected with folks around the globe, thanks to Facebook, Twitter, and thousands of other internet avenues.  We refer to individuals we’ve never met face to face as our friends, while our neighbors are complete strangers.  The global community has shrunk, but next door remains a mystery.  In this bold new age of instant gratification and a world without borders, it seems something has been lost in the tradeoff. 

Mary and Max tells the (purportedly true) story about a lonely eight-year-old girl in Melbourne who initiates an unlikely friendship with a reclusive middle-aged man in New York.  Mary Daisy Dinkle (voiced by Bethany Whitmore and Toni Collette) is a shy, imaginative young girl.  Due to a large brown birthmark on her forehead, she’s the object of ridicule in her school.  She finds little solace at home, as her alcoholic mother and emotionally distant father (who appear to have been forged from a Roald Dahl book) are mired in their own little worlds.  One day, Mary picks a name out of a New York phone book, and sends a letter in the hope that some of life’s burning questions can be answered by someone living in a distant land.  It’s by sheer happenstance that she ends up finding a kindred spirit by the name of Max Jerry Horowitz.

Max (Philip Seymour Hoffman) is a morbidly obese social recluse with Asperger’s syndrome (now classified under the somewhat generic-sounding term “autism spectrum disorder”).  He’s an alien on his own planet, trapped in self-imposed exile from the rest of the human race.  His home town of New York is depicted in black and white, mirroring his literal-minded perceptions.  Other people are a constant source of confusion to Max, with his inability to gauge others’ emotions and non-verbal cues.  He lives a quiet, monastic existence in his tiny apartment with his goldfish, one-eyed cat, and imaginary friend, Mr. Ravioli, who sits quietly in the corner reading self-help books.  He longs for a friend, while being outwardly incapable of maintaining a meaningful connection with another human being.  Mary’s first letter breaks through his malaise, thus forging a long-distance friendship, based on their mutual love of cartoon characters called Noblets, all things chocolate, and outcast status.  Max views her questions regarding matters of the heart or being the object of bullying as simply problems to be solved. 

Writer/director Adam Elliot deserves kudos for creating a story that’s alternately hilarious and heartbreaking.  Bittersweet, with emphasis on the bitter, Mary and Max goes to dark places that Pixar or Aardman would fear to tread.  It’s not afraid to explore the abject despair that only the truly alienated can experience.  The stop-motion animation style matches Elliot’s warts-and-all approach, with character designs that aren’t cute or cuddly.  While Max’s borderline grotesque features aren’t likely to inspire plush toys, T-shirts or other merchandise, his appearance underscores the isolation he likely feels on a daily basis.

True to its non-traditional pretensions, Max and Mary doesn’t wrap everything up in a neat little package, with the underdogs triumphant.  In the end, Mary’s life is still a mess, and Max... well, let’s just say he hasn’t changed much.  The final scene is poignant and fitting to the main characters.  It might not be the one we were hoping for, but it shows a great deal of integrity on the part of the filmmakers.  It’s easy to forget that the characters are cast in plasticine, since they display more depth than many characters in live action films.  Their artificiality belies the fact that they can still evoke real emotions.  It’s a beautiful tale that reminds us friends can come from unexpected places, whether we want them or not.