Time Out review: Akira Kurosawa's adaptation of Macbeth is
reckoned by many, Peter Brook among them, to be one of the very few
successful efforts at filming Shakespeare. Translating the familiar
story to medieval Japan, with Macbeth as the samurai Washizu (Toshiro Mifune),
the adaptation deletes most of the minor characters, transforms the
witches' scenes into a magical encounter with an old woman spinning in a
forest glade, perches 'Cobweb Castle' high in the hilly moorland where
the clouds roll by like ground-fog, and conceives a stunningly graphic
fate for the usurper, clinging stubbornly to his promise of glory even
as he is being turned into a human pin-cushion by volleys of arrows.
It's visually ravishing, as you would expect, employing compositional
tableaux from the Noh drama, high contrast photography, and
extraordinary images of rain, galloping horses, the birds fleeing from
the forest; all of which contribute to the expression of a doom-laden
universe whose only way out for its tragic hero is auto-destruction. Rod McShane
Regent Street Cinema introduction: Join us for a thrilling double bill of two classic British science
fiction horrors, presented in partnership with the team behind The
Evolution of Horror. Experience the ground-breaking terror of The
Quatermass Xperiment followed by the chilling continuation in Quatermass
2. Between the films, enjoy an engaging discussion with the Evolution
of Horror team, exploring the impact, legacy, and lasting influence of
these genre-defining works. A must-see for fans of horror, sci-fi, and
British cinema history.
Time Out review of The Quatermass Xperiment: It was the enormous success of this Hammer version of Nigel Kneale's TV
series which began the whole horror boom in Britain. As a result of its
popularity, the company decided to tackle the Frankenstein monster, and
subsequently discovered that the public's appetite for myth and fantasy
was practically insatiable. The theme of the film (man returns from
space as a kind of monster) is by now fairly stereotyped, but it's
amazing how impressive Richard Wordsworth's performance remains. Phil
Leakey's make-up manages to convey the idea of a whole body in the
process of decomposition; and staggering over bombsites, his deformed
arm wrapped pathetically in an old overcoat, Wordsworth's Victor remains
one of the most sympathetic monsters in movie history. Perhaps the most
remarkable thing about the film, in retrospect, is the way in which its
opening sequence mirrors so precisely the intrusion of Hammer into the
cosy middle class domesticity of British cinema in the late '50s. Two
insipid lovers are sent screaming from their haystack bower as a huge
tubular rocket ship (looking less like a spacecraft than an enormous
phallus) plunges into the ground where they have been lying... David Pirie
Time Out review of Quatermass 2: An eerie political fable on the lines of Siegel's Invasion of the Body Snatchers,
and despite some clumsy moments that have not worn well, it remains one
of the more bizarre and impressive of the early British horror
pictures. Photographed by Gerald Gibbs in a sombre monochrome that
nicely evokes an aura of muted hysteria and despair, it describes
Quatermass' discovery that virtually the whole of Britain has been taken
over by things from another world, and that the government has already
begun laying waste the countryside. Provided you steel yourself against
the familiar faces (like Bryan Forbes and Sidney James), the chill is still there. Chris Peachment
This re-release is getting an extended run at BFI Southbank. Full details here.
Time Out review: With its meticulous script by James Schamus, strong performances and elegant direction, this tragi-comic look at
the lives of a couple of comfortably-off small town Connecticut
families in the winter of 1973 is a gem of witty, perceptive
observation. Unbeknown to Joan Allen his wife, Kevin Kline is carrying on with
neighbour Sigourny Weaver, an affair discovered when he comes across his teenage
daughter Christina Ricci playing her own sexually explorative games with Weaver's
sons. Cue marital discord, adolescent disenchantment and family crises
in a thoroughly enjoyable blend of comedy and melodrama which is spot-on
both in its evocative re-creation of the fads, habits and attitudes of
the early '70s, and in its sense of an America at a particular point in
its socio-political history. Geoff Andrew
Cine-List review: A
director and film theorist affiliated with the French Impressionist
movement of the 1920s, Jean Epstein is credited with laying the
groundwork for many cornerstone concepts in cinema studies, such as the
notion of medium specificity, or what he referred to as photogénie. As
film scholar Malcolm Turvey details in his history of the
"revelationist" tradition, at the heart of the French Impressionist
approach is the belief that film holds the ability to transcend the
fallibility of human vision and reveal the true nature of reality via
cinematic techniques like editing and close-ups. While viewers may take
these ideas for granted today, Epstein and his contemporaries are
responsible for no less than realizing cinema's potential as a bona fide
art form. It's fitting that Epstein chose to adapt Edgar Allen Poe, a
major influence for the French symbolist poets, who in turn offered a
reference point for the Impressionist filmmakers. Co-written by Luis
Buñuel, THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER remains just as eerie today as it
was over eighty years ago. Epstein's use of chiaroscuro lighting and
deep space lend the film a haunting, atmospheric quality and the actors
involved (including Abel Gance's wife) give suitably hypnotic
performances. The story, about a man obsessed with immortalizing his
dying wife in a painting, is all too apropos for a filmmaker who wrote
extensively about the boundaries between reality and representation.
This is a Lost Reels screening. Lost Reels is an independent film organisation dedicated to bringing
forgotten, lost, or unavailable films back to UK cinemas. Visit Lost
Reels at lostreels.co.uk
Cinema Museum introduction: After earning the dubious distinction of being one of the first
British films to be given an ‘X’ rating entirely for on-screen violence,
Douglas Hickox’s Sitting Target was overshadowed by Get Carter (1971) and Villain (1971) as just another grim, seedy British crime thriller and is now
mostly forgotten. Oliver Reed plays the brutish convict Harry Lomart who
after learning his wife Pat (Jill St. John) has become pregnant by
another man, plans a daring prison escape with his friend Birdy (Ian
McShane) so he can kill her in murderous revenge. A truly nail-biting
breakout sequence is followed by a series of audacious action set-pieces
including fist fights, shootings and thrilling motorcycle and car
chases, with the near-maniacal Reed unrelenting in his quest for
vengeance. Strikingly filmed by Edward Scaife, director Hickox keeps the
film moving at breakneck speed and provides a heavy dose of
gun-fetishism along with the action for good measure. Never released on Blu-ray and unavailable in any format in the UK,
Lost Reels is proud to present a special screening of this fast-paced
hard-bitten action thriller from a rare high-definition 35mm scan
sourced from the US.
BFI introduction: Anna May Wong reprised her stage role as the mistress of an Al Capone-inspired
gangster, in this Paramount adaptation of British writer Edgar
Wallace’s Prohibition-era, Chicago-set play On the Spot. Confined in the
mansion, Lan Ying haunts the story of a social-climbing gangster’s rise
and fall. The film culminates in a harrowing finale that evidences
Wong’s constant refining of her craft as a performer.
Rio Cinema introduction: This event is part of the Sailors are Gay! queer film season at The
Rio Cinema, presented in association with The National Film and
Television School’s Film Studies, Programming and Curation MA. More
information on instagram: @filmsaregay. The evening
consists of screenings of two short films, a Q&A and the main
feature, Night Tide. Fireworks (1947, dir. Kenneth
Anger, 15mins) An avant-garde homoerotic dream of sexy sailors
and strategically placed roman candles, Kenneth Anger’s
experimental short is considered the oldest surviving narrative gay
film from the USA. Smothered in queer and occult symbology, we follow
a dreamer’s sensually violent encounter with a gang of handsome
seamen. Not only are these transfixing 15 minutes noteworthy for
their place in gay sailor cinema, but integral for the first American
court case to rule homosexuality to be a “non-obscene” subject of
art. Don’t miss this rare opportunity to experience what Tennessee
Williams described as, “the most exciting use of cinema I have ever
seen.”
Fireworks
Revisited (dir. Bev Zalcock, 1994, 9 mins) This lesbian reworking
of Kenneth Anger’s Fireworks (1947) by experimental duo Bev Zalcock
and Sara Chambers (Space Dog Assassin, East End Underground Moment),
pulls in a panoply of references, from Eisenstein to Prisoner Cell
Block H, to proclaim that it’s not just gay cis-men who can make
sailors objects of homerotic desire. Structurally mirroring
Fireworks, this revisitation’s dreamscape of grainy London is
occupied by leatherclad motorcyclists, butch bodybuilders, and a
catherine wheel in the place of the original roman candle. The short
will be followed by a discussion with its filmmakers, Bev Zalcock and
Sara Chambers.
After our discussion
with Bev Zalcock and Sara Chambers, we will have a 15 minute
intermission before our screening of Night Tide.
Night Tide (dir.
Curtis Harrington, 1961, 86 mins) Johnny Drake, a sailor on shore
leave (Dennis Hopper) falls in love with Mora, (Linda Lawson) a woman
posing as a mermaid for tourists on the Santa Monica pier. When a
retired sea captain convinces Johnny that Mora’s siren persona is
more than just a hoax attraction, his leave takes a dark turn in this
fantasy exploring gender, identity and the beliefs we hold of
ourselves. Often interpreted as a trans allegory, gay filmmaker
Curtis Harrington’s debut feature pulls inspiration from the
gothically queer literature of Edgar Alan Poe, the occult arcana of
lifelong friend Kenneth Anger, and the supernatural feminine found in
Cat People (1942).
Chicago Reader review (of Night Tide): Dennis Hopper had his first starring role in this odd and arresting
black-and-white mood piece about a young sailor who falls in love with a
carnival worker who may be a mermaid. Made in 1960 but not released
until 1963, it was the first feature of Curtis Harrington. A poetic,
low-budget independent effort, it can't be called an unqualified success
but certainly deserves to be seen. At moments it evokes some of the
early magic of Jacques Demy, and as with Demy's first feature, Lola,
it's questionable whether Harrington ever topped it in his subsequent,
more commercial efforts. Jonathan Rosenbaum
