52 Pick-Up # 13 – No Bears (2022)

Huh. It took me this long to realize this entry is going up on April Fool's Day.

I'm trying to decide if that's a good or a bad sign. More so given this will be the thirteenth movie in the run on top of that.

Ah well, no sense dwelling on it too long. Best to just move on in and worry about the consequences later.

That's the lesson of this movie, right?

Right?

Oh. Oh dear.

ANYWAY.

Welcome back to 52 Pick-Up, my year long trip through my cinematic to do list.

March has come to a close in a suitably raucous fashion and as the weather starts to warm up, I'm changing gears again and kicking the month off with another movie from the 2020s.

Two in four months. Not too shabby.

Following up on my comment on this from last month, this title made it onto my list care of last year's It Was Just an Accident. That movie made it up to my #1 spot, in large part thanks to the impressive balancing act in tone that director Jafar Panahi accomplished, and it immediately raised my interest in checking out his previous feature, No Bears.

I went in knowing as little as possible, save for Panahi's involvement. What I got was an experience that reminded me of the strengths of his later movie, but also showed me more of his general style in a way that has me intrigued to see more.

The first thing that struck me was the very meta framing of this story. Panahi appears in this movie as a fictionalized version of himself, an embattled film director who has been barred from making movies in his home country of Iran. We see this Panahi is working around this by operating in a small town near the border with Turkey where he connects with his crew by remote. The story follows two threads in particular. The first with the subjects of Panahi's film, a couple trying to get papers to leave Iran. The other involving Panahi himself as his stay in the village where he has situated himself becomes increasingly more fraught as seemingly minor actions prove to have unanticipated ripples.

In both this movie as well as the subsequent IWJAA, Panahi demonstrates a keen sense for narrative escalation. In both cases, he starts the movies with what could easily be a minor incident – something that can happen to anyone on any day and be forgotten just as quickly. Except in Panahi's hands, these incidents become part of a larger context that causes these innocuous acts to trigger subsequent actions to greater and greater consequences.

In comparison to the later use of this in IWJAA, No Bears takes a different approach. IWJAA balances its entire escalating chain of events on an uncertainty – every action the lead makes after his first decision is spurred on by the lingering question of 'what if I've been wrong about all of this?' and his reluctance to make that final decision that can't be taken back unless he has certainty. In the case of No Bears, there isn't an ambiguity behind the way things spiral out of control. As this movie presents it, there is no 'what if', but simply that the die is cast and we, along with the fictional Panahi have to watch as the figurative dominoes all fall down, not sure where the chain of events will go until the actual damage is done. If there is any uncertainty, it is in Panahi being completely unaware of the full consequences of his actions until they are taken past that point of no return.

The decision by Panahi to make himself the protagonist – as a fictionalized version of himself – adds another interesting element to all of this. Particularly as the film presents his role in the events that unfold – while Panahi is the unwitting instigator, the audience can sympathize with things like his frustration over the traditions of the village he is staying in, in that he is not made aware his actions are seen as taboo until the lines have been crossed. Conversely, the movie he is filming secretly within Iran feels like it's taking him to task for his detachment from the story unfolding – particularly as it spirals to its ultimately tragic conclusion, which Panahi can only observe from the perspective of a director.

The more I think back on this movie, the more I'm struck by the way it's constructed. Panahi presenting two stories that are both seemingly disparate but also quite similar, each effected in one way or another by his presence (or distance) from the action involved. It's an exercise in perspective that shifts from story to story and even from particular character as the scene shifts, even as it holds with our metafictional protagonist the whole time.

 

Looking back, this so far makes Panahi two for two on movies that I liked when I first watched them, but the more I think back and prod and pry at them, I become even more interested in what they're doing. Part of me wants to rewatch this soon, part of me wants to give it more time first and let myself come at it a bit fresher. Maybe something for after the project.

In the meantime, I'm going to be keeping an eye out for more of his movies, because this has further cemented my interest in what else this man has done.

With that as a welcome start to a new month, it's time for 52 Pick Up to move on as I hope from one prestigious director to another. Next week, I'm addressing one of the rare holes I still had yet to address in the filmography of Hayao Miyazaki (yes, I was surprised to remember there were gaps here too.)

52 Pick-Up will be back next week as I hope for warmer weather to properly go with writing about Ponyo.

Until then.

52 Pick-Up #12 – Streets of Fire (1984)

Man, where is the time going?

Welcome back for another round of 52 Pick-Up as I come to the close of the third month in this year long bid in the films that have been kicking around my 'I'll Get To It At Some Point' list. As March winds down, I come to a title that's been on the list for a while now.

And damn, do I regret sleeping on this one.

So, let's close out with Streets of Fire.

I'll start by saying it – this movie broke me in a way. As I've gotten older, there are certain phrases in describing films I have tried to strike from my vocabulary. This can be for any number of reasons from being overused or misused or just presented in bad faith.

One I have actively avoided for years is 'they don't make them like this anymore.' In this case, I will break and admit it – movies like Streets of Fire don't get made anymore. Or if they do, they certainly aren't at the level of weirdo ambition that Hill gets away with here on the back of his success from 48 Hours.

It's a mash-up of neon, biker gangs, a larger than life hero figure, a city that seems to be its own separate reality, all wrapped up in a rock and roll musical, populated with a murderer's row of a cast. It's the kind of style and genre mash-up that can be best represented by the famous multi-car pileup at the end of The Blues Brothers.

Let me be clear – this is a plus for me. For as strange as this combination is on paper, and I know it won't work for everyone, this one hit a spot for me I didn't know needed scratching.

For a description that gives this a little more of a 'what even is this' – the movie takes place in a city that seems equal parts throwback and slight future (the movie coins it 'another time, another place' not dissimilar from the semi-futuristic New York of Hill's earlier The Warriors.) The movie doesn't take too much time setting up the background before it plunges us into the action in the form of a concert for singer Ellen Aim (Diane Lane) who has her act interrupted care of a biker gang known as The Bombers. Their leader, Raven (Willem Dafoe with probably his most memorable villain look this side of Wild at Heart) takes an interest in Ellen and promptly kidnaps her. Immediately on the heels of this, witness Reva (Deborah van Valkenburgh) sends word to her brother, Tom Cody (Michael Pare.) Cody, a former soldier and Ellen's ex, rolls into town. After some initial reluctance, our hero has assembled a ragtag team involving himself, Ellen's manager (Rick Moranis), and a scrappy former army mechanic (Amy Madigan...excuse me, Oscar winner, Amy Madigan) to wander into the bad part of town and get Ellen back.

All this and Bill Paxton. Again, murderer's row of a cast.

I should pump the brakes for myself here before we go any further. There's a lot of things in this movie that work, and I will likely be hyping those up again before much longer, but I do want to be fair in some regards to this. 

So, let's start with that cast. In a way, the cast is kind of a good macrocosm for this movie's pros and cons – its leads aren't bad, but I can't really say they're the reason to see this. Pare can hold his own in a scene, and I'm glad he's stayed working consistently, but you can see why he wasn't carrying a lot of the bigger movies of the decade. Likewise, Diane Lane is in a thankless spot for this movie as its designated damsel in distress. Like Pare, she's doing what she can with what she's given, but it's not really the big draw for this one. 

 Having said that, for as much as the leads are kind of underwhelming, the supporting cast makes up for them in spades. As the movie's de facto sidekick, Madigan takes a role that was written with someone completely different in mind (for starters, the character was originally written to be a man) and makes it fit so well you'd think she was always who they had in mind for it. Likewise, Dafoe, who doesn't get to say a whole lot in this, makes a mark on viewers just from a combination of his aesthetic and the weird menace he brings to Raven. Paxton, meanwhile, with only a few scenes, brings a presence to a character who could have been completely forgettable that makes it so I kind of wish we could have gotten more of Clyde the bartender. Granted, that was a charm that just came naturally to Paxton, but it still carries into this role.

Though if I'm giving anyone the big shout out here, it probably goes to Moranis, who takes a character that, on first glance, reads like it will be the sort of role he's played throughout his career, then turns it on its ear. Billy could have easily been another in the stable of endearing hapless characters Moranis got typecast into over his career, but instead, he is almost an antithesis of them – a man who knows he's not the hero of this story, but he also recognizes what value he does bring to this team, and he's not afraid to use it or stand up for his part of things. Watched in the shadow of a lot of his later work, this was a refreshing look and it's kind of a shame he didn't get more chances to play against type like this.

If there's one component that could be said to be the biggest MVP of this movie, it's the soundtrack. This isn't by accident – the movie literally introduces itself as a rock and roll fable, after all. Still, it is an area where, if the music had fumbled, it would have seriously hurt the film. Thankfully, it all works with its 'almost a musical' mix of several songs created for the movie's in-universe groups to perform. Two in particular are worth pointing out here. The first of these being easily the most famous song of the movie, Dan Hartman's I Can Dream About You, an earworm of the highest order that still makes regular play even if a lot of people may not realize it came from a movie. The other I have to give to the movie's closing number, Tonight Is What it Means To Be Young, one of two songs by Fire Inc, written by longtime Meatloaf collaborator Jim Steinman. As someone who grew up with Bat Out of Hell as an album in rotation, this end theme scratched a sweet spot for Steinman's signature bombastic power ballad style of songwriting, to the point I had a feeling it was him behind it before I looked up the music credits.

More than the kind of weak leads, if the movie can be said to have any particularly big weakness, it's the fact the script feels like an afterthought. As a complete product, the movie is INCREDIBLY heavy on vibes and atmosphere, and in that regard, it knows what it's doing. As such, the story mainly exists to move things from point A to point B and you don't really want to dwell on it too long, you just take its conceits as they are with the 'it's not quite our world' setting. The individual components are carried either on the cast, the music, the aesthetics, or the sheer audacity of some of the sequences (I'm still processing the fact this movie's climax involves a sledgehammer fight.)

Yes. I repeat - a sledgehammer fight.

In a weird way, the movie can almost read as the rambunctious, 1980s younger sibling to The Warriors. The set-up changes, but both are very stylized films to their decades about a ragtag team of heroes who wind up deep in the heart of an unforgiving city and have to fight their way out while being pursued by a leather gang led by a cold-blooded psychopath, all to the strains of a great soundtrack. Besides the era, the biggest difference between the two is that The Warriors finds a good balance of all of its different elements. Streets of Fire, in some ways, feels a bit more ambitious than The Warriors, but by comparison, it's also more of an uneven movie. The parts that work work VERY well, to the point where one can't really say they cover for the parts that don't work, but they also keep those parts from hurting the overall experience.

With that, we bid March adieu as 52 Pick-Up keeps rolling.

Kicking off April, we get a more recent title as I get an opportunity to follow up on the work of the man who directed my favorite movie of last year – which is my round about way of saying I'll be back next with Jafar Panahi's No Bears.

Till then.

52 Pick-Up # 11 – Multiple Maniacs (1970)

“I think Divine made drag queens hipper because they were really square before he came along. Van and I wanted Divine’s look to scare hippies, because those are the people who went to see underground movies. If you watch that documentary The Queen, all of those drag queens wanted to be Miss America. They were all trying to dress like their mothers back then, but Divine didn’t wanna be a woman—he wanted to be Godzilla!” – John Waters

Okay, so normally I don't start these with a quote, but given this movie and this quote, this one demanded it.

With that, welcome back for the 11th go of 52 Pick-Up, a year long dive into my cinematic to do list. After promising this two weeks ago (and again, sorry about that) we're back on track this week. Coming on the heels of last week's excellent but bleak political thriller, it's time to go back into Uncharted Waters and continue to explore the remaining parts of John Waters's filmography. For this month, that involves his 1970 sophomore effort Multiple Maniacs.

Last time I did a John Waters movie here, I had reflected that, if I came into it early into my journey into his filmography, I might have liked it more. I bring this up because, the more I think of it, I feel like Multiple Maniacs is the reverse of this idea for me. Coming into this near the end of the run through John Waters's movies enhances the appreciation of it for me as a milestone in his career. A milestone that led to me almost subtitling this entry 'Dawn of the Divine.'

I feel like if this had been one of my first encounters with Waters as a filmmaker, it might not have landed as much for me. I don't think I would have hated it, but the looser narrative and the flow of events might have just not landed as much. Watched now, especially seeing the films that came immediately after (including Female Trouble, which at the time of this writing is still my favorite Waters movie) I don't see as much the kind of less formed parts, but the pieces that would become more concentrated in the movies that followed.

On the other side of this in the timeline, this was the movie Waters made following this debut, Mondo Trasho. In the larger arc of Waters lore, Trasho is a movie that mainly holds value for the circumstances around it rather than the movie itself – i.e. it's his first movie, and one that will likely stay out of print due to the music rights issues. It's a movie I would really only recommend to someone who's going for Waters completism, because the movie as it is mostly just feels a very rough, unpolished movie that has occasional glimmers of the Waters we all know and love, not in such a capacity that it's worth the run time for much beyond saying you've seen it.

Coming on the heels of that, Multiple Maniacs feels like a big step up. There's a confidence and a clearer sense of style and the kinds of things Waters wants to do on screen here that makes for a much more enjoyable watch by comparison. Right at the center of that is – you guessed it – the elevation of Divine from a support in Trasho to the center stage in Maniacs. We get other notable names in the Waters canon as well – Mink Stole, Cookie Mueller, and David Lochary all have great appearances among others. In particular, shout-out for the late Lochary who kicks the movie off in a memorable fashion in full carnival barker more for 'Lady Divine's cavalcade of perversions' – a wild sales pitch intro I would happily try to crib for an audition in the future if I though I could get away with it.

I never would have imagined I'd see
a John Waters rendition of the Stations of
the Cross before, but it's there
and it is absolutely insane in all the right ways.

But again, Divine is what makes this movie shine. This first variation has parts of what we would see Waters later adapt into Babs Johnson and Dawn Davenport in later movies, and as the prototype, Divine (as Divine) is in full chaotic force of nature mode, going from a life of crime, to a foray into religion, to a rampaging finale that may be the closest thing John Waters will ever make to a kaiju movie. Even beyond just her role in Dreamland history, she is a lot of fun in this movie and gives it a pulse that the earlier movie doesn't quite have.

So I feel like I'm rating this movie on two levels. On its own, it's a very watchable, if genuinely weird, piece of the more gonzo early years of John Waters with some truly bonkers set pieces that need to be seen to be believed. Taken as part of the larger Waters canon, I really enjoy this as that first really clear statement of Waters as a filmmaker. So much of what comes after can be seen in its early stages here. Multiple Maniacs walked so Pink Flamingos could tear down the streets in a psychotic Weapons-style sprint.

Believe it or not, this isn't the part where the movie
goes full kaiju.
It STARTS here, but this isn't it yet.

As you can imagine, this was also a great mood lifter after last time (though again, DO seek out Z.)

Alas, with this, I have completed the journey into the early days of Dreamland and sometime next month it's time to journey into the late 90s and beyond for Waters.

But before we do that, March has one more movie in the queue and it's one I have been circling for years. In closing out March, 52 Pick Up discovers what it means to be young as the month closes out with the Walter Hill cult classic Streets of Fire.

Till then.

52 Pick-Up # 10 – Z (1969)

Welcome back to 52 Pick-Up.

And for anyone who's reading this because they read last week before the edit and are now thinking 'What the Hell? Where's Multiple Maniacs?', I will explain once again – simple human error. I mentally flipped which movie to which point in the schedule. Multiple Maniacs will be coming up next week, but I didn't want to skip this movie, because damn I'm glad I rolled it.

So, once again, as some may have missed it, I will recycle the set-up from before – if I had a nickel for every European movie from 1969 that I've watched this year that aged uncomfortably well, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it's happened twice.

Without further ado, let's get into Costa-Gavras's political thriller Z.

While I'm falling on my sword this week, I have to take this moment, in discussing what this movie is about, to say it took me way too long to realize this inadvertently dovetails with last week's movie. Like In the Realm of the Senses, Z is its directors stylized take inspired by a true story – in this case, the assassination of Greek politician Grigoris Lambrakis and the events that came immediately after.

That origin in reality is a good place to start this review, especially as Gavras begins his movie with the statement 'Any similarity to real people or incidents is not coincidental. It is intentional.' Despite this, unlike Oshima, Gavras doesn't present this as the original Lambrakis story (adding to this, Gavras also took inspiration from other acts of political violence, such as the disappearance of Mehdi Ben Barka) but instead keeps many of the details in his telling ambiguous. We get some generalized names, but a country is not specified, and those characters who are named receive a first name only. It's a move that has helped add to how this movie has aged, as even while it can be compared to a single incident, the open nature of the place and time makes it feel relatable beyond just Greece of the 1960s.

Honestly, I feel like that's the part of this that stuck with me the most – despite the movie being over 50 years old, and the incident that inspired it even further back, Gavras's film still feels relevant nowadays. It's not even a single moment or element. Right from the start, there's a sense of how little has changed, as the movie begins with a scene of a government meeting which starts off talking about combating mildew on vines and then pivots to using the same language for ideologies they disagree with.

A sample of some of the 'mildew' they refer to needing to
eliminate.
Yeah, it's sad we keep letting these guys have power 50+ years on.

Many of these characters don't appear again for much of the rest of the movie, but this scene echoes through much of what follows. From the government offices where higher ups loftily speak of opposing views with the same degree of disdain as molds, we head to the other end of where their ethos takes hold in the form of protests against a government deputy (Yves Montand) who is advocating for nuclear disarmament. Cutting to specific figures among the crowd, it isn't long before Gavras shows us that these are people ready for violence and just waiting for the right opportunity to kick it off – even if they have to do so themselves.

That becomes the parallel that drives the movie – the 'civilized' disdain of the right wing leaders at the top and the antagonistic street violence on the ground, at first presented in contrast, are soon presented to all be part and parcel of the same larger political undertaking. The leaders can happily talk of their opponents as simply dirt or mold because their own rank and file people are the ones who will dirty their hands to deal with them (and, if necessary, take the fall for the cause.)

I'm trying not to get too into the details on this, because, despite the age of this movie, I don't want to spoil it for anyone who hasn't seen it. Especially because I would argue it is incredibly worth seeing. Not just for the relevance (though that is a big part of it), but also as this is in general a well made thriller in its own right. Besides the very palpable sense of anger Gavras imbues this movie with for the abuses those in power inflict with little to no meaningful consequence, it is also a genuinely tense, well made movie that keeps you engaged with seeing how far it will all go and to what end.

As an additional general note goes – the title of this movie comes from an actual political sentiment from Greece at the time, a shorthand referral to Lambrakis said to mean 'He lives.' It feels both encouraging and sadly appropriate as a title nowadays. Encouraging for the feeling that, even in death, the ideals of people like Lambrakis (or his fictional on-screen counterpart) continue on after their death. Sad as it also applies to the above mentioned feeling of anger Gavras works into this movie. Even over half a century later, the maneuvers in this movie feel sadly familiar, even as the technology changes, the plays remain the same. Even more familiar than the strategies, however, are the consequences – those in power see their opponents discredited, cast aside, or flat out killed, and suffer no real meaningful losses, save for the occasional resignation or a foot soldier who has to be sent to prison. They repeatedly get caught in abuses of their authority and are then left free to keep right on abusing them.

Tale as old as time, as it were.

Okay, that was a bit more of a downer note than I intended to go out on, but it's hard not to feel a bit gloomy with this movie (he said after endorsing people watch it. Hey, not every moviegoing experience needs to be about comfort.)

In all seriousness, this is a very worthwhile movie. Just, maybe have something light for a chaser afterward.

Speaking of which, next week, as promised it's back to Uncharted Waters with the movie that arguably ushered in the rise of Divine as a force in Dreamland lore – it's Multiple Maniacs.

Till then.

52 Pick-Up #9 - In the Realm of the Senses (1976)

 You know, its funny? We go into February light on the romance and then start picking up just as the month ends. Then we come into March with another story of--

Oh.

OH.

Well, this is certainly going to be a different take, but then this project is all about trying something different.

So, before we get into this movie, I'm gonna start with a disclaimer, both for the audience and to cover my own backside on this one. This week's entry, as stated last time and above, is on Nagisa Oshima's controversial 1976 movie In the Realm of the Senses. For anyone not familiar with this, it's a movie with a reputation for its rather frank depictions of sexual acts – most infamously scenes of unsimulated sex between some of the performers.

Okay, so TECHNICALLY the Japanese title
for this roughly translates to Bullfight
of Love

I'm going to be trying to keep this worksafe (or as worksafe as I can), but if this is something you'd rather not stick around for, I can understand on that. Feel free to come back next time if you step out though – in a rare courtesy for those checking out early, next week continues the journey into Uncharted Waters with his sophomore feature Multiple Maniacs.

EDIT - Okay, it hit me at work earlier that I realized I made a mistake in the schedule. Multiple Maniacs is coming, but it won't be for another week. My apologies, as we all know, this year has been a lot.
Which is kind of fitting in light of what next week actually is - to borrow the oft-used internet paraphrase: If I had a nickel for every international feature from 1969 that feels hauntingly relevant to watch 57 years later, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it's happened twice. Next week will be the Costa-Gavras political thriller Z.

So, to recap - Z next week, Multiple Maniacs the week after.

Okay. Now you know for next time. Hopefully will see you then. Not looking to change this format so much in the future.

Now then – on with the main feature.

Like I was saying above, this is a fairly controversial movie for this selection, particularly with regards to its depictions of sex. Watching it I was getting flashes of some of the recent discourse in some circles of the internet regarding the question of necessity for sex scenes in film and it felt like as good a jumping off point as any for this particular title.

First, as a general thought on this question, I frequently find myself at odds with this topic. Partly because this question seems to be predominantly raised towards sexual content, nowhere near as often is it applied to questions of language or violent content, creating a weird question of what has artistic merit vs what doesn't. Which comes to the much larger part of why I tend to take exception to this question – it presents a scenario where art is treated as an algorithmic formula. The question of 'necessary' basically presents a scenario where everything exists only to serve a particular need. Now granted, there's times I'll look at something in a movie and say, for my part, it feels excessive or needless – but that's all in execution. One movie's overkill is another movie's effective hammering of a point, and it's all a matter of context and how it's done, and the idea that there's a universal standard here feels antithetical to the whole undertaking.

Okay, now just let me take a moment to climb off my soap box and we can get back to how this ties in to today's movie.

This isn't quite as caption iffy as The Damned,
but damn, I can't find a safe word joke here
I don't come away from thinking 'This is a little much'

For context for anyone not familiar with it – In the Realm of the Senses is Nagisa Oshima's own stylistic telling of the real story of Sada Abe – a geisha in 1930s Japan who began an affair with her employer, Kichizo Ishida. Their relationship culminated in her murder of the man, after which – to put it politely – she removed his wedding tackle and carried it with her. In the years since, the case has been subject of no shortage of art and speculation, with Oshima's being but one of many pieces inspired by the story.

With that context, and in regards to the above question, I would say that yes, In the Realm of the Senses can be argued to be a movie where one can argue the sexual content is necessary. It certainly won't be to everyone's tastes, but one would be hard pressed to say it has no narrative significance, both in terms of the on screen facts of the story as well as thematically.

Oshima focuses his telling specifically on the relationship between Sada and Kichizo (often shortened to just Kichi in the movie) and how their relationship is defined primarily through the sex they experience together. Thematically, this becomes one of the most interesting elements of the movie, because throughout the movie, Oshima has characters using sex as a way of conveying power. Kichizo, for example, is presented as someone who frequently engages in sexual activities with geishas or hired help. In most cases, he is the one dictating the actions in what's being performed.

Operative word most – enter Sada. Sada is presented by Oshima early on as a character who uses her sexuality as a means of power. This is established even before she begins her relationship with Kichizo with a set of scenes involving a vagrant that apparently knew Sada from her past as a prostitute. He is presented as ultimately powerless and begging her for attention. When she finally does grant him that audience, to her amusement, he is utterly unable to perform. It's an effective way of helping really convey that sex is how Sada wields power, and she is aware of it and not afraid to use it.

...and then there's this scene.
Just...again, this kind defies captions.

It's that confidence, and awareness of it, that makes it so when she and Kichizo meet, she clearly becomes the more dominant of the two. It's not explicitly presented in their relationship like that wording would suggest – it's in the broader sense that Sada doesn't simply comply with Kichizo's various proposed experiments, and instead approaches them first as his equal, then as the one leading the relationship.

This all leading to the final act, where Sada is the active component in their sexual activities as Kichizo becomes more and more passive. By the time he comes to his end, he is literally just lying there as Sada carries out the fateful final activities that make up the movie's finale.

I'm sure someone could still try to argue the sexual content of this movie as unnecessary, but I would continue to disagree. You could, in theory, make a sex-free version of Sada's story, but it wouldn't be remotely the same movie, save for coming from the same point of inspiration.

If you've not seen this before, and aren't put off by what's been said here so far, I would recommend seeking this out. It's definitely not a movie for everyone, but Oshima makes this truly engaging without feeling like he's just trying to shock or titillate. It's present, and often graphic, but in the service of a larger theme.

With that, I can't help but be amused that I'm going from a defense of a very sexual, but artistic movie, into another round in John Waters's earlier transgressive phase of filmmaking.

So, once again, Multiple Maniacs, Z. Next week.

Till then.

52 Pick-Up # 8 – Valley Girl (1983)

Welcome back for another round of 52 Pick Up.

Hey, they can't all be witty and topical.

As I said at the start of this month, I was leaving an opening for an outside vote to my wife for a title a month. For the record, next month's roll, save for its Waters tag-in, has no substitutions. The exact response I got when showing the list to see if she wanted the option was, and I quote, 'Hell yeah, I am here for ALL of this.'

Something fun to keep in mind as next month unfolds.

In the meantime, this week marks her first substitution pick, and I have to admit, this is one I was very pleasantly surprised by. Without further ado, let's get into Martha Coolidge's 1983 romantic comedy Valley Girl.

The pitch for those not familiar with this one: the movie introduces us to Julie, our titular valley girl (Deborah Foreman) fresh off breaking things off with her jerkish (to put it mildly) boyfriend. Over the course of a few encounters, she crosses paths with Randy (Nicolas Cage in one of his first major roles), a good natured, if awkward, punk who she hits it off with. After a memorable night out, the two navigate back and forth over whether their relationship has a future, balancing their own feelings with the pressures of their different social backgrounds.

One particular thought before I go into the movie itself – it is fascinating to watch a movie like this in 2026. Not in a bad 'look at how out of date this is' way, but rather to look at this and remember the period when Nicolas Cage was generally seen as a working actor. In particular it's a perspective check to remember that he had a period of the better part of two decades where he had standing as a romantic lead in a number of different styles of movie – and often he was good in the roles to boot.

I'm not saying this to disparage the Age of Cage that we live in. It's a fun time and that particular brand of over-the-top bonkers can be a lot of fun with the right movie. But it's nice to remember he's got those other acting modes in him and that he can still flex those roles nowadays, even if he doesn't get to as often (I can't count it here, but if you've not seen the movie Pig, it is an excellent turn for him and easily a career best.)

By today's standard, the most memetic thing about this
Cage performance is just his punk look.

I bring this up as a way to go into my main takeaway for this movie. As I've discussed here in some write-ups in the past, over time, I've kind of tempered how I look at some movies. Yes, I still will occasionally vent my let down expectations towards some movies, but as I've gotten older, I try not to judge a film on what I wanted it to be if that isn't what I was getting from it. The other side of this coin means there has been many a movie I have watched and I can see that alternate version that wouldn't work. That version where the director was just that little bit more cynical or risk averse or the cast just wasn't up to the task or any number of takes which would have taken the components and made them not work.

I say this as my way of saying I can see a version of Valley Girl that would have been an excruciating watch. A story of two people who I would not have given the proverbial hoot for despite the movie's insistence I should. An empty, vapid, grating story of two teenage archetypes being lovelessly mashed together.

As you can imagine, this is my way of saying, thankfully, this is not that movie. There's a reason I called this a pleasant surprise above and I'm happy with how much of this movie worked for me.

I tried to think of a Frank Zappa joke for this,
but just can't quite get it there without going way too
far out of the way for it.

Right at the top of what makes this work - our two leads. In general, the cast for this movie works, but with a premise like this, it would live or die on how well these two work together. In that regard, Foreman and Cage do a lot for keeping these roles as people you want to follow. Foreman's Julie, from the start, is presented as having a bit more on her mind than the archetypal valley girl tropes, even if she seems unsure how to really express that. Because she has that nuance early on, it helps keep her journey engaging rather than having her be someone who has to grow out of a broader stereotype. Likewise, Cage's Randy could have been seen as a lot more of a jerkish character – the fact he is presented to us instead as more of a awkward/charming guy who just happens to be more at home on the fringe helps keep him from being a 'what would someone see in this guy?' figure. In fact, his invitation to Julie to experience life outside of the valley is presented all around as a good way to set up their relationship – neither party is being overtly judging, she's interested in seeing more of life outside of her world, and he's happy to show it to her.

Beyond our leading couple, most of the rest of the cast also do well dodging the pitfalls of being stock characters. Julie's friends (including a pre-voiceover role by E.G. Daily) mean well (okay, most of them) and if they can be guilty of anything, it's just being a little less curious of that larger world compared to Julie. Their attempts to get her back on the more socially acceptable track aren't out of cruelty as much as simply not realizing she wants more than this. Likewise, Randy's friend Fred is occasionally weird, but the movie is careful to keep him from ever being framed as a charming creepy as much as a guy who is just not so great at picking up social cues, but when push comes to shove will still do the right thing, even if not in the best way. Even Julie's parents (Colleen Camp and Frederic Forrest) are presented as dancing the line between archetypes – in their case the former hippies who got 'respectable', but still keep their roots in wellness – but giving them enough moments of genuine human feeling to keep them likable

I know it's not actually him, but it is kind of
distracting to me how much Fred reminds me of
Gerrit Graham

Alongside the cast, Martha Coolidge is similarly keyed in to the necessary balancing act to keep this watchable. This was kind of surprising to realize on finding out this was her sophomore directorial effort after an earlier feature that was decidedly less light and fun (though given what Not a Pretty Picture is about, I'd be genuinely disturbed if she DID make that light and fun.) She takes to the comedic side of this movie well and getting her cast working with the material well.

For the most part. If I'm being fair there are a couple of beats that do feel a little bit off in the larger mix. For an early, example, the movie mostly keeps Julie's ex at a reasonable level of jerk, but there is a moment early on that dips into genuine creep territory that winds up feeling somewhat out of place with a lot of what comes later. Not in a way where I'd say it ruins the movie, but it is a moment that you almost feel like should result in some harsher karmic comeuppance for him than what he ultimately gets, as the act is unknown to all but the character he carries this out on. Likewise, there is a subplot involving one of Julie's friends and her stepmom competing for the feelings of a man that feels somewhat out of step with the overall tone of the rest of the movie. Again, not in a way that kills things, but it is definitely a weird vibe that the movie keeps checking in on and I wonder if this was a remnant of a larger storyline from an earlier draft that got whittled down and maybe should have just been scrapped in the finished product.

Having said that, again, these beats are odd, but don't weigh the movie down too much. To put it another way, they ding the movie rather than fully denting it, and the pros definitely outweigh the cons on this.

Incidentally, one other big pro for this – the soundtrack. This is one of those that's up there with Fast Times at Ridgemont High (also an early Nic Cage movie, come to think of it) as just getting a good slice of 80s music that works both for the movie in general as well as being enjoyable in its own right. Even if you opt to skip out on the movie, the soundtrack is still worth a listen for a good 80s selection.

I'm still surprised how much I liked this. Not one of the best have seen, but it has a lot of charm and goodwill going for it, and it's nice to watch this and remember there was a time when people looked at Nicolas Cage and thought “This guy can be a charming, likable romantic lead.”

I mean, yeah, I still love the weirdo Cage, but it is nice to remember he had this phase.

With that, February is coming to a close here, but the draws continue as 2026 continues its weird, wild, sometimes horrifying journey.

To anyone out there who has been missing the international flavor of January, good news – next month is starting things off going abroad, with a combination even I didn't fully see coming.

From a combination of French and Japanese filmmaking – it's the story of one woman's erotic journey from Osaka to Tokyo, it's Nagisa Oshima's In the Realm of the Senses.

Till next time.

52 Pick-Up #7 – Cry-Baby (1990)

So, guess who got excommunicated after last week?

Come to think of it, CAN you even be excommunicated from an evangelical church? Sorry, my whole point of reference is growing up Catholic.

Then again, not even sure if that could happen anyway since I'm not really affiliated anywhere these days, nor was the movie that especially transgressive regarding the church (and since I've already seen The Devils, I can't count it for this, so back to the drawing board.)

So in the meantime, how about some John Waters?

As I said at the beginning of the month, this entry marks the first in my series of addressing the titles in the John Waters filmography I have not yet seen – a mini-run I am informally titling Uncharted Waters that will be running now till August. Kicking things off, it's his 1950s musical throwback Cry-Baby.

Okay, this is kind of one I was bracing myself for. Not because it's bad or even considered bad as much as this movie has something of an elephant in the room nowadays care of its lead actor.

For the record, I do think Johnny Depp is giving a good performance in this movie, so don't take this as criticism just for his being there, particularly at this point in his life and career. If there's one thing Waters has been good at in choosing big name performers, it's getting people that can sync up to the wavelength of whatever project he's working on (see also, Kathleen Turner's phenomenal performance in Serial Mom), and in this regard, Depp fits this particular role like a glove.

So with those thoughts of his particular involvement in this movie factored in, here's what I'm gonna do. As you scroll down, you will see a picture of Willem Dafoe as a prison guard in this movie (and, one of two performances I would call one-scene wonders that just absolutely steal the moment.) Past this particular point, I'm going to just say my piece on this particular subject and that will be the end of it. Should this come up in a future installment (which it might, I've been circling adding some Jarmusch to the queue), I'll just link people back to this rather than go over it all again.

So when you see Dafoe, if you wish to avoid this topic, keep scrolling. At the end, you will see Dafoe again. At that point, you're all clear to keep reading.

Okay?

Okay.

Now everyone look busy, here comes the guard!

I'll just come right out with it – damn, it's frustrating watching this performance nowadays. Again, this is through no fault of its own. Depp is good in this role, he gets what it's going for and he doesn't try to be above the more openly silly parts of the persona.

Which is frustrating because watched in 2026, it really hits that this version of him is gone. To be clear, I'm not putting this on the allegations. I feel like he could be offered a gig again tomorrow and it still wouldn't feel like a 'he's back' moment because it honestly feels like this energy left him long before any accusations really stuck.

That is one of the other awkward things about this topic – when you really dig in, the reports of questionable behavior and substance abuse had been floating in the ether for a long time before the particular accusation that really took hold surfaced. In many cases, they were ignored or shrugged off as the bad boy actions of a younger star. More importantly, a younger star who still made bank. If there is one lesson that has remained the most consistent in terms of which actors get comebacks and which ones flame out, it's that there are very few sins in Hollywood as great as wasting other people's money. After all, we've seen some actors who have done some INSANELY sketchy things (one of whom is currently up for an Oscar this year) but they still manage the return on investment, so they get to stay in the picture.

(Okay, Jared Leto remains the anomaly as his career continues even as it hemorrhages money, but the fact he's been putting up the funds himself lately raises the question of how much longer that will continue.)

Anyway, back to my initial point. When I say that version of Depp is gone, I'm feeling like it was gone years before the particular allegation. I say this as someone who was in his 20s in the 2000s. Someone who saw the man's repeated collaborations with Tim Burton go from a source of great anticipation to increasingly exasperated sighs of “Again?!” Someone who remembers the schlock entries like Transcendence and Secret Window (and let's not even get started on Mortdecai.) Yes, there was Pirates, but even that went from feeling like a fresh reminder of juice in the tank to something that felt like it devolved into broad shtick as became more and more the Captain Jack Show.

In short – I look at a movie like this and I just remember all that promise that got frittered away over the course of a decade or so from any number of poor professional decisions long before any questions of his personal life came to the fore.

Okay. There's Dafoe. We can get back to talking about Cry-Baby now.

As far as the rest of the cast of this movie is concerned – again, Waters knows how to put together a good team. In this case, I kind of feel a bit bad for Depp and Locane as the leads, because while they're good, they're also the more grounded characters, and as a result get somewhat drowned out by their more colorful co-stars. I can think of several here would love to give particular shout-outs to – Iggy Pop and Susan Tyrell are both a welcome dash of crazy as our hero's uncle and grandmother, as is Mink Stole as another actor alongside Dafoe who gets one scene and makes a meal out of it. That said, if I had to single out a particular standout here, it's Kim McGuire as the fan favorite character nicknamed 'Hatchet-Face.' In true Waters fashion, McGuire comes into the film with a distinct look and genuine 'holy shit' energy that creates the dilemma of if the movie needed more of her or if the fact we don't get more of her just makes her scenes that much better.

Again, it speaks to Stole as a Dreamland regular that
Waters can give her a scene where she's in an iron lung,
puffing on a cigarette, and she can still make it memorable.

Besides the casting? The movie is overall good, but if I'm really being put to it, I'm kind of putting this on the lower end of what I've seen of Waters's work (though, to be fair, even lower end Waters is still a good time and this is still holding together better than Mondo Trasho, which has its moments but also has a lot of 'first feature' rough edges to it.) It's good, but it doesn't quite hit the audacity of his earlier movies, and even of the more mainstream work, it doesn't really feel quite as strong or memorable as films like Hairspray or Serial Mom do on either side of it. Even as a musical, a lot of the tunes in this just didn't really make an impact (to the point where I can kind of see why the subsequent attempt to make this into a stage musical just opted to forego the movie's entries and make their own songs.)

I have to admit, I feel a little bad that this is the first draw in this that really netted some genuine criticisms, because there are a number of things to recommend in it. But, at the same time, I'm also looking at this as less 'this is bad' and more I graded this on a curve with other Waters movies and it just didn't measure up as well. Honestly, I feel like if I came to this earlier in my dive into his work, I might have warmed up to it more. I'd still say it's worth the watch – and not just to be a completist – but will maintain I've seen Waters make stronger impressions.

To paraphrase her own words - 
There's nothing wrong with her face,
she's got character
...and a big knife. That helps too.

Of course, there's still five more movies, so there's a chance I may eat my words in the future, but we'll see. If this is as low as we go, I'm still calling this one an all around win.

In the meantime, we've got one more to go for February, and this marks the first select from my wife as well as the first invocation of another bonkers legend of Hollywood – the great Nicolas Cage.

Hope to see you all next week for the 1983 Martha Coolidge movie Valley Girl.

Till then