Author: Bob Westal (Page 257 of 265)

Writer guy Bob Westal was literally born in Hollywood and has commented on the worlds of movies, popular culture, politics, and food ever since. His interest in cocktails is more recent, but he made up for lost time with hundreds of “Drink of the Week” blog posts for Bullz-Eye. In addition to writing and editing, Bob also talks a lot.

Heroes of the East

Cursed with a misleading English title and a narrative flaw or two, this remarkably little known 1979 Hong Kong comic action fest is nevertheless an absolute must for serious martial arts fans and a treat for the rest of us. The young Gordon Liu (cruel tutor Pei-Mei from “Kill Bill: Volume 2”) stars as Ah To, a young man in an arranged marriage with the pretty Kung Zi (Yuzo Mizuno), recently returned from her native Japan. After some initial fretting, the two prove more than compatible. Actually, it turns out they may have a little too much in common — they are both martial arts experts and excessively proud proponents of their respective nation’s martial arts styles. Though frequently compared to “The Taming of the Shrew,” the first hour plays more like an early sixties sex comedy, only with comic physical jabs replacing the verbal sparring.

Early on, the action is nearly dominated by the spunky, hyper-talented Yuzo Mizuno — think a young Shirley MacLaine as a comically destructive martial arts virtuoso. Still, “Heroes” ultimately turns out to be Gordon Liu’s show, and quite a show it is as the reluctant Ah To must face a herd of angry Japanese martial artists who have come to defend their nation’s honor. Martial arts trained director Lau Kar-Leung’s good natured action rom-com – something of a (biased) plea for mutual respect between the Chinese and Japanese peoples – turns into a more traditional series of increasingly stunning action set pieces that concludes with a real bang as Ah To at last faces his romantic rival, a treacherous ninja (Kurata Yasuaki) who throws the ninjitsu book at our hero. It’s a stunning conclusion to a real whiz-bang of a late period Shaw Brothers martial arts extravaganza. Also, with relatively little in the way of anything like serious violence (for the most part the characters aren’t really trying to hurt each other) and only some very mild sexual innuendo, “Heroes of the East” is also appropriate for younger martial arts fans.

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Summer of ’04

Mirjam (Martina Geddick) and André (Peter Davor) aren’t the kind of parents who worry that their typically sullen fifteen year-old son (Lucas Kotaranin) is likely having sex during their summer trip with his mature-for-her-age but nevertheless not yet thirteen year-old girlfriend, Livia (Svea Lohde). On the other hand, mother Mirjam starts playing the responsibility card when Livia, who has some disconcerting ideas about relationships, strikes up a sudden close friendship with a handsome grown-up (Canadian television actor Robert Seeliger, speaking fluent German). Before you can say WTF, Mirjam finds herself acting on her own attraction to the stranger. If nothing else, events play out believably and the upper middle class European milieu feels right-on (including some ironic U.S.A.-bashing) – up to an ending that’s supposed to be an emotional sucker-punch, but which plays more like an earnest attempt to imbue 97 minutes of well-realized, though apparently pointless, über-realistic banality with something like meaning.

A lot of critics use the word “thriller” to describe this meticulously achieved slice of upscale life from director Stefan Krohmer and writer Daniel Nocke. That’s stretching the definition, but “Summer of ’04” mostly fails without regard to genre. A moment of suspense, some hot but relatively discrete onscreen sex between consenting adults, and an unexpected revelation aside, the problem with this well-acted, character-driven film is that these five people feel very real, but they’re still lousy company. It’s not that they’re largely unsympathetic, it’s that they’re mostly uninteresting. See “The Ice Storm” instead.

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Prairie Fever

Any movie that earnestly harks back to classic westerns and tries to strike a blow for human liberty at the same time can’t be all bad. Sadly, a single star is all I can justify for this direct-to-DVD oater. “Prairie Fever” brings us onetime TV Hercules Kevin Sorbo as Preston Biggs, a former small town sheriff turned town drunk. When several mail order brides start to exhibit signs of pretend-insanity – incessantly quoting Bible verses, miming playing the piano, and generally exhibiting signs of really bad acting – the woman are assumed to have fallen to a sort of female hysteria apparently brought on by living on a pretend-Western hamlet, i.e., “prairie fever.” The cure, such as it is, is to have Biggs take the women, and a tidy sum of money, to the nearest train station hundreds of miles away. Along the way, our not-so-anti-hero encounters the feisty and beautiful Abigail (Dominique Swain), who is on the run from an occasionally villainous gambler (Lance Henrickson). While this set-up initially appears lamely misogynist, rest assured that it is actually lamely feminist. These women are suffering from old West PTSD caused by frontier cruelty, but in true old school TV style, they will all fully recover within less than 81 minutes.

Written and directed by a triumvirate of TV veterans, “Prairie Fever” effectively evokes the bad television of yore. For all the attempts at characterization, it’s often possible to recite the dialogue in advance of the characters. Moreover, action sequences are badly muffed, though the three stars are, for the most part, able to keep their heads above water. The less said about the supporting cast, however, the better.

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Diva

This very Parisian suspense comedy-drama was a sensation on the American art house scene during the early 1980s and helped launch a wave of more stylish, genre-oriented, French directors, action-meister Luc Besson included. (It also earned its own palindrome: “Avid was I, ere I saw Diva.”) It’s still fun, and very sexy in a demure, PG-13 way, if also kind of silly and lackadaisical.

Based on a novel by the pseudonymous Delacorta, writer-director Jean-Jacque Beiniex’s feature debut tells the story of a twentyish, scooter-driving postman (Frédéric Andréi) obsessed with a beautiful African-American opera singer (real opera star Wilhelmina Wiggins Fernandez) who, for artistic and philosophical reasons, refuses to allow herself to be recorded. The young man sneaks a high-end recorder into a performance and, after meeting his idol, steals her dress. He soon finds himself pursued by Asian audio pirates, but also by local assassins seeking an incriminating cassette. At the same time, he pursues a light flirtation/friendship with a larcenous Vietnamese teen orphan (Thuy An Luu) – and, shyly, but a lot more earnestly, romances the diva. He’s definitely one lucky celebrity stalker. Among other bits of good fortune, his less famous, underage gal-pal is under the possibly fatherly, possibly not-so fatherly, protection of a mysterious former Special Forces type (Richard Bohringer), who proves to be helpful in his tight spot.

“Diva” is really not about story but primarily about style, music (lots of opera, so be warned), and only then about its characters. While it doesn’t impress me today the way it did when I was the same age as its young postman, it’s still a nifty bauble with one really great foot/scooter chase through the Paris metro and lots of beauty — though buyers should be aware that the Lionsgate/Meridian Collection DVD has taken some hits for its technical quality. The print could probably be better.

Click to buy “Diva”

The Red Violin



Samuel L. Jackson
might be the top-billed actor in this award-winning, Oscar-nominated arthouse flick from 1998, but you’ll be sorely disappointed if you’re expecting him to point an AK at some poor schmo’s head and bellow words to the effect of “All I want from you, motherf**ker, is to give me the motherf**king red violin!” This isn’t that kind of a movie. Crafted with care by the team responsible for the musically inspired 1994 indie hit, “32 Short Films About Glenn Gould,” this Canadian production is filmed in five languages and follows the career of a very special instrument, starting with its creation in 17th century Italy, to Vienna at the height of the classical period, and then to England and the hands of a sex-crazed rock star of a romantic era composer (Jason Flemyng) and his entranced lover (Greta Scacchi). It then moves on to mid-20th century China during the Cultural Revolution, and finally to contemporary Montreal, where a high-end auction house retains an American expert (Jackson, uttering nary a curse word), who finds himself in possession of the perfectly crafted and now legendary instrument.

Each of the tales is visually sumptuous, engagingly melodramatic, extremely well-acted, and not too much more, though a story about a sickly Viennese child prodigy and his conflicted mentor threatens to become poignant. By the time the final tale of possible musical skulduggery is complete, the point is either ridiculously self-evident (“beautiful music and fine workmanship are very powerful and make people do things they otherwise might not”) or something so high-flown I couldn’t quite grasp it. Writer-director Francois Girard and cowriter Don McKeller, who also plays Jackson’s geeky cohort, are a highly talented team, but in this case their work says less about music or the joy and power of craft, than it does about a certain kind of safely entertaining style of tony film-making.

Click to buy “The Red Violin”

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