THE WARRIORS (1979)

Often confused with THE WANDERERS, Philip Kaufman/Richard Price’s less fanciful Rumble-in-the-Bronx/’60s Coming-of-Age tale, out five months later, Walter Hill’s Gangapalooza  Cos-Play romp, inspired by a Greek legend, happens over one long night in what might be called the imaginary here-and-now.*  That’s where Coney Island’s WARRIORS, sporting signature leatherette vests (undershirt optional depending on ab definition), grab the graffiti marked NYC subway going to the big Gang Pow Wow in the Bronx, No Weapons Allowed!  But when violence inevitably breaks out, it’s every gang for itself and the defenseless Warriors have to strategize a safe way home thru one enemy territory after another,  The Bronx, Manhattan and finally safe turf in Brooklyn . . . if they all make it.  Along the way, Martial Art fights, romance (real & feigned), all while misplaced blame puts them in harms way.  (In truth, the most dangerous place they go to is the subway Men’s Room.  Yikes!)  And speaking of territory, writer/director Hill is a bit out of his.  Optical printer wipes to change scenes?  Teenybopper music-video violence?  But he seems to be having almost as good a time as the costumer, decking out the gangs in various themed outfits.  (Check out the Goth Clown Baseball Team Gang.)  Too bad the cast missed finding a big breakout star.  Delicate hunk Michael Beck quickly lost his mojo with next year’s ZANADU.  Yet somehow, knowing most of the cast only for this film helps rather than hurts.

DOUBLE-BILL/LINK:  As mentioned, THE WANDERERS.  Not so much alike after all.    https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2017/05/the-wanderers-1979.html

ATTENTION MUST BE PAID:  *The most stylized element in the film is 100% real.  The famous ‘70s-era NYC Subway Map of Massimo Vignelli.

CITIZEN K (2019)

This fine, even important, documentary on Russia (circa - 2000 - 2020): starts with the ‘Wild West’ Democracy of the early 2000s, then on to the Rise of the Oligarches and ‘Order’ (seven men holding 50% of Russia’s wealth), and finally the takeover by President Vladimir Putin, was too little seen.  (Though with NetFlix, who really knows?)  Centered on the Dostoevskian trials of possibly the biggest of the thieving Oligarches, oil mogul Mikhail Khodorkovsky, he is, at best, a deeply flawed messenger.  (But, hey, it’s Russia, you take what you can.)  It begins with President Boris Yeltsin, an unraveling comic tragedy, running for reelection against regrouped Communists, bringing in former Berlin KGB man Vladimir Putin as aide/heir apparent.  (Putin looking, if possible, even more like a rodent than he does now.  He might be auditioning for 007 super-villain.)  But with the government out of cash, and no one getting paid or pensioned, a backroom deal borrows funds from those seven super-rich oligarches who quickly buy up bankrupt Russian industry & utilities, pennies on the dollar.  (Kopeks on the Ruble?)  Including Mikhail Khodorkovsky.  But Putin tightens his political noose till the oligarches take the money and run . . . mostly to London.  Only Khodorkovsky stays.  Going into politics as a Democracy pushing opponent, earning jail time and, apparently, a conscience.  Told via news clips and fresh interviews with many a likely suspect and muckraking reporter, the story unexpectedly easy to follow thanks to clear narrative organizing (and generous on screen title cards) by writer/director Alex Gibney and editor Michael J. Palmer.  More timely than ever.

SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY:  Of course, the question the film can’t answer, is why Russians put up with this level of dysfunctional government, corruption and misery.  Vodka?   That’s how they put up with it.  But ignorance, disinformation and stupidity help.  Watch the person-on-street interviews to see how they even surpass their American counterparts in willful Know-Nothngness.

PRANCER (1989)

In the disheartening world of modern cinematic Christmas uplift, PRANCER (nearing the 40 year mark) is considered something of a new classic.  (But then, so is LOVE ACTUALLY.)  A generous rating might be passable.  Oddly the basic story, single-parent kid starts to believe in a mythical Christmas character and sees her life go topsy-turvy for the better, is also the logline for an honest-to-goodness Christmas Classic, MIRACLE ON 34TH STREET.  The one from 1947, not the glossy ‘94 remake.  The big substitution is bringing in wounded reindeer Prancer for MIRACLE's self-proclaimed (delusional?) Santa Claus.  But whereas this film has no other plot to speak of, the surprise hit from ‘47 is loaded with subplots buttressing the CLAUS action: romance for the single parent; competitive capitalism going all warm & fuzzy; courtroom drama; even the frigging Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.  Without something similar, the texture’s awful thin on PRANCER, right from the start.  And that’s before a botched have-your-cake-and-eat-it-too ending.  Still, there’s nice work from Sam Elliott as the single parent running the family apple farm (substituting for Maureen O’Hara’s Mom in ‘47); and fun stunt casting with Michael Constantine & Abe Vigoda making real character turns out of throwaway roles.  On the other hand, director John Hancock* shows little control over Rebecca Harrell’s positive-thinker, not a patch on Natalie Wood’s depressed little girl in ‘47 (Wood a knockout child actor), or in taming Cloris Leachman, unable to pivot from nasty Miss  Havisham to mentoring Miss Moffat as the lady neighbor.

DOUBLE-BILL:  Though it has the lower IMDb.com rating, lots of comments show a preference toward the belated sequel PRANCER RETURNS/’01 (not seen here).  OR: Go for the unexpectedly entertaining (i.e. not too sappy) MIRACLE ON 34 TH STREET/’47.

ATTENTION MUST BE PAID:  *If the name John Hancock rings a bell, it’s likely because he directed the fondly remembered BANG THE DRUM SLOWLY/’73; a film better remembered than reseen.

BEFORE NIGHT FALLS (2000)

Hard to believe it’s been twenty-five years since Javier Bardem had his international breakthru as Cuban dissident-writer Reinaldo Arenas in this artful bio-pic.  Less hard to believe how well it’s held up as it was rightly acclaimed on release, only the second film from Julian Schnabel, segueing from high art to occasional film director.  For Arenas, child of the Cuban revolution, it wasn’t long before enthusiasm turned to persecution on two fronts, as an independent thinking writer and as part of a briefly burgeoning, soon underground, gay scene around Havana.  Schnabel, using a semi-linear, impressionistic style that suggests as much as it states, follows Arenas as he realizes he has to leave this new Cuba where he’s both imprisoned on trumped up charges (sexual/political) and forced to smuggle manuscripts out of the country for publication.  A grim situation, yet the film is neither a downer nor a suspenseful triumph of publishing intrigue, but a journalistic memory piece tethered to a political system that tries but cannot smother his voice, determination or friendships.  Schnabel brings remarkable control to the film, especially, as might be expected from his background, in color and texture, without undercutting a fluid visual style and unerring casting.  Not that everything works: the use of Spanish-accented English remains debatable as is Johnny Depp’s double stunt casting.  (Pretty funny though - Double drag: femme cross-dressing in jail, then as a Desk Sargent with a come-on vibe toward Arenas.)  But it’s Bardem who pulls everything together, mostly with his arresting physicality, the bone structure, the way the light catches his facial plains, like some handsome Cubist dream portrait, that ultimately make this so special.  It’s a plus that the guy can act, but what an objet d’art for the camera.  He knows it, too, which can get him into trouble, but certainly not here, not yet.*

SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY:  Though sparing with docu footage of Castro, it still makes the case of what a crashing bore he was regardless of politics.

ATTENTION MUST BE PAID:  *Bardem’s face a great argument that you don’t need spectacle and fancy effects to justify watching on a big screen to get the full experience.

LIGHT OF THE WORLD (2025)

Like the Deluxe Illustrated Jesus for Kids your Great Aunt gave you for Christmas instead of the sports-gear you wanted, an oversized tome left unopened in its original shrink wrap on your bedroom bookshelf till college & the donation box called.  But had you looked inside at the heavy-gage glossy paper, you’d have found what LIGHT offers, a rather handsome, posterized version of The Gospel According to Market Research, a Bowdlerized Biblical primer on Jesus and his Merry Disciples joyfully spreading ‘the word’ in Judea, wandering ‘J-Pop’ stars (that's 'Jesus-Pop'), offering magic tricks that are real.  (Cute guys hip enough to make a JAWS reference.)  Fleshed out in pretty hand-drawn animation, and boasting a Band-of-Brothers vibe, it’s reasonably effective at hitting some of the early highlights in the canon.  But once we’ve crossed into Jerusalem, with Jesus now proclaiming himself King Messiah, the cherry-picked happy incidents have no way to pivot toward the disturbing last act.  (This telling hardly alone in tripping up here.)  Glib explanations on cause & effect in place of The Sermon on the Mount, the confrontation and riot at the Temple/Marketplace, et al.  What, you wonder, could anyone possibly object to from this winning clean-cut crew?  You may also start wondering why no one in here has skin tones darker than Mediterranean ‘olive.’  And as to those chalk-white Romans?  As usual, they're pretty much let off the hook as if the moviemakers were still proselytizing . . . oh.

ATTENTION MUST BE PAID/LINK:  *Released months after THE KING OF KINGS/’25, another Jesus-for-Kids animation with a much starrier vocal cast, if IMDb.com can be believed, each film budgeted at 20 mill, but KING grossing nearly 80 mill to LIGHT’s disappointing 4.  Perhaps there is a limit to the Up-With Christianity market.  https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2025/09/the-king-of-kings-2025.html

WANTED MAN (2024)

File under Who Knew?  Dolph Lundgren, permanently tagged as Sylvester Stallone’s ROCKY IV adversary (a massive 6'5" to Sly’s bulked up 5'9", a blink would have K.O.’d) has had a surprisingly varied career even within the action hero roles he’s been stuck playing.  Perhaps we shouldn’t be too surprised this engineering Fulbright scholar has always had more than one arrow in his quiver, writing, producing and for the past two decades, directing low-ball action fare, presumably for the foreign market, now as streamers.  This one, generic as its title, perfectly acceptable product that could have been pitched at Clint Eastwood circa GRAN TORINO.*  (The prejudice Mexican-centered rather than Asian.)  Its neat parabolic plot sees Lundgren’s aging xenophobic cop in disgrace for violence and racial putdowns.  He’s saved from being fired by accepting  a trade-off assignment to pickup a pair of Mexican hookers South of the Border, witnesses to a drug cartel bust gone wrong and multiple dead DEA agents.  But those third parties at the sting operation weren’t Cartel Bad Guys, but cops in disguise, corrupt officers on both sides of the border.  So when the pickup also heads south (while driving north) and the body count erupts, who can you trust to call for help?  Okay, fresh this ain’t, and some technical issues bother.  (In particular, the dubbing, especially in the first three reels, might be out of an early ‘60s Italian post-production synch lab.)  But Lundgren stages the violent set pieces with aplomb (and readable logistics), earns props for brusquely killing off the film’s most likable character, and at 67, let’s himself look plenty beat up, enough to pas as a weary, but still powerful police presence.  Kelsey Grammer one of a few ‘names’ who show up.  Fine, though having someone so prominent in a smallish role sort of gives the plot away.  No cheering then, but no reason to hold your nose.

ATTENTION MUST BE PAID/LINK:  *Sure enough, Lundgren says he tried to get this going in 2008. The year TURINO came out.  https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2010/05/gran-torino-2008.html

IN THE HEAT OF THE NIGHT (1967)

Few things date more quickly than ‘Progressive’ Hollywood films.  Often as not, passé before they hit the screen.  So all credit to this racially-charged murder procedural that plunks a top Black Detective from Philly, PA into a high-profile/Deep-South/small-town homicide investigation.  The film, one of the great entertainments in a competitive year of change in Hollywood (topping BONNIE AND CLYDE, THE GRADUATE, GUESS WHO’S COMING TO DINNER and, of all things, DOCTOR DOLITTLE for Best Pic Oscar®) remains remarkably lively, well-observed and unembarrassing.  Four reasons why: a twisty murder mystery, not just scaffolding for current affairs; superbly caught atmosphere and inconspicuously imaginative craftsmanship from director Norman Jewison and cinematographer Norman Wexler*; Rod Steiger’s unexpectedly layered Southern-Fried Police Chief; and naturally Sidney Poitier’s stubborn/proud Northern Detective from his annus mirabilis*, whose on screen strengths (slow-burn dignity, gravitas & grace, intelligent vibe, reserved physicality, elegance) can sometimes hold him back, but here are a perfect fit.

ATTENTION MUST BE PAID:  *Wexler’s changing palette & saturation levels, a masterclass in technique and a tutorial in the rise of ‘60s visual sophistication in Stateside filming standards.  Imagine what Lew Wasserman’s Universal Studios would have done to his negative at the time.  But also compare with today’s standard desaturated wash of autumnal gloom.  Just check out the railway station scene midway in that consists entirely of different shades of grey.  So, of course, cinematography the one major craft award where HEAT wasn’t even nominated come Oscar season.

SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY:  *Poitier hit the movie star trifecta in ‘67 with three huge hits: TO SIR WITH LOVE (Black American teacher wins over White lower-class British school kids; plus hit pop tune!); Love is color-blind DINNER; and this.  Note: DINNER had a staged release and was (God help us) second highest grosser in ‘68.

ALI BABA AND THE FORTY THIEVES (1943)

It took a World War to make (and sustain) the unlikely stardom of TechniColor beauty Maria Montez.  The campy, exotic adventure films she made for Universal in the ‘40s, especially when co-starred with blandly handsome Jon Hall and impish Sabu, were a perfect fit for wartime anxiety.  And though she continued making films till her early death in 1951 (only 41), her time had already passed.  ALI BABA, from 1943 now seems her best, certainly the best introduction, but is perhaps less well known than the ones with Sabu.  (Turhan Bey takes over his regular spot, and quite well.)  Easy to see why it holds up so well since, after a prologue that has the young Caliph watch his father’s murder, discover the secret cave of the Forty Thieves and get newly christened (if that’s the right word for an Arabic fable!) as Ali Baba, the bulk of the film, neatly paced by director Arthur Lubin, is pretty much lifted story beat by story beat/character by character from Warners' THE ADVENTURES OF ROBIN HOOD/’38.*  Even Jon Hall, bringing Errol Flynn dash to his grown up Ali Baba, Andy Devine in for Alan Hale, a public rescue from certain death, a dastardly usurper . . . and so on.  Alas, Montez ain’t no Olivia de Havilland in the kidnaped princess turned helpmate/lover department.  But then, who is?*

DOUBLE-BILL/LINK:  *See for yourself in ROBIN HOOD with the whole unbeatable Warner Bros gang.   (Note: Hold off on more Montez; her films best seen in long-spaced intervals.) https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2019/03/the-adventures-of-robin-hood-1938.html

ATTENTION MUST BE PAID:  *Another ripoff comes when the outlaws sing their fighting song while riding thru the desert on horseback.  These guys not only robbing the wealthy Khan villians, but also composer Sigmund Romberg whose ‘Riff Song’ from his operetta THE DESERT SONG serves as a too close for comfort inspiration.

VIGILANTE FORCE (1976)

Twenty-five years before the horrible Brothers Weinstein, public face Harvey/backroom Bob, a similar dynamic played between the pleasant Brothers Corman, B-pic King Roger, front-man and stealth distributor of classy foreign cineasts, while kid brother Gene mostly content to stick with unassuming action junk such as this, one of a short series produced by Gene, on his own, for M-G-M release in the '70s..  And they don’t come much junkier than this tale of a terrorized town where locals hire a clean-up specialist only to discover that sometimes the cure is worse than the disease.  (Heck, that’s almost SEVEN SAMURAI, no?)  Vietnam vet Kris Kristofferson’s the one-man wrecking crew (and closet sociopath) who simply replaces the current gang of shoot-em-up brawlers with a new protection racket of business-backed thugs.  It’ll take kid brother Jan-Michael Vincent to organize the town against KK and take back the town from the corrupt vigilante force who took back the town from the previous bad guys. Writer/director George Armitage manages to make a 30-day shoot look like they had 21, though art director Jack Fisk (with uncredited assistance from wife Sissy Spacek) somehow conjures convincing small-town flavor.  But who can explain what a hot property like Kristofferson (just off two Sam Peckinpah pics and about to start Streisand’s STAR IS BORN remake) is doing here.  (The filmmakers so surprised he showed up on set, they apparently forgot to buy him shirts!)  Jan-Michael Vincent shows the natural screen presence that somehow never quite put him in the top tier, while in a smaller part, pal Andrew Stevens makes a real impression even if Armitage throws away his sacrifice at the climax.  Guess he was too busy lifting James Cagney’s WHITE HEAT/’49 finish to bother.

WATCH THIS, NOT THAT/LINK:  IMDb says this is a remake of Blaxploitation pic BUCKSTOWN/’75.  (Not seen here.)  And it does seem something of a precursor to popular guilty pleasure ROAD HOUSE/’86.   https://maksquibs.blogspot.com/2025/08/road-house-1989.html