Hang 'Em High (1968) ***

By 1968, Clint Eastwood had, thanks to his work with Sergio Leone, made the transition from TV star to movie star. “Hang 'Em High” was his chance to cement that position with a role in an American production of the kind of revisionist western with which he and Leone had made such a success. Eastwood plays Jed Cooper, an innocent man hanged by a lynch mob. Surviving the attack, Cooper, who is a former lawman, accepts an offer from Judge Fenton to become a U.S. Marshall. He will help the judge maintain what law and order is possible in the wild Oklahoma territory, and with a badge, he can legally pursue the men who lynched him.

Traditional westerns back in the day featured a good guy in a white hat against a bad guy in a black hat. That overly simplistic description applies, literally or figuratively, to most of the westerns made before the late 1960s. Directors were starting to experiment with more character development and moral ambiguity, but they were limited by the Hays Code, the film industry's self-censorship guidelines. The Code didn't just limit sexual expression in films; it sought to promote respect for law and order and American government. (It also prohibited, among other things, depictions of inter-racial relationships.) Much like the Chinese censors today, the Hays Code significantly limited the themes you could explore in a Hollywood film. McCarthyism and the Red Scare played a role as well. Any depiction of America as less than a shining city on a hill could be interpreted as pro-Commie, which is why a great movie like “High Noon” was maligned in its day. Foreign directors like Sergio Leone and the New Wave auteurs had a considerably freer hand, and American filmmakers increasingly craved that freedom.

By the '60's, directors were flexing more and more against the Code, which, after years of being increasingly water-down or ignored, was finally scrapped in 1968, in favor of a ratings system similar to what is used today. “Hang 'Em High” is a good example of the revisionist westerns that were starting to be made around that time. In these westerns, the hats were, figuratively speaking, more on the gray side. In “Hang 'Em High,” the upstanding citizens who attempt to lynch Cooper believe they are doing what is right, providing justice in a lawless land. Judge Fenton (based on the legendary Judge Parker) sentences a lot of men to be hanged in order to head off just that sort of vigilante justice. He believes that in the large, mostly un-patrolled Oklahoma territory, people will only respect a court that provides swift, severe justice. Anything less, and people will take the law into their own hands. Cooper struggles with some of these hangings, but he ultimately continues as a lawman, feeling that the more present the law can be, the less necessary hangings will be.

That's a lot for a movie to take on, and I won't pretend that “Hang 'Em High” is some sort of profound statement on criminal justice. Much of the film is a pretty typical western, and the romance montage between Eastwood and co-star Inger Stevens is downright sappy. Still, the movie manages to mix legal philosophy with some decent action. It isn't Eastwood's best, but it's worth seeing.

3 stars out of 5

Kimi (2022) ****

 

I clicked on this movie for two reasons. One is that it stars Zoe Kravitz. The other is that the summary sounded eerily similar to a trio of movies from the past: "Blow Up" (1966), "The Conversation" (1974), and "Blow Out" (1981).  Like "Kimi," each of these films features a reclusive technical expert discovering evidence of a crime lurking in some type of media.

First of all, Kimi is not the name of the main character. It is a voice-activated AI assistant, like Siri or Alexa. The fictional Kimi system uses human techs to listen to misunderstood voice commands and continually improve the system's performance. One of those techs is Angela (Kravitz), an obsessive-compulsive agoraphobe. The Covid pandemic has just reinforced Angela's stay-at-home/work-from-home tendencies, and she never ventures out of her apartment. The closest she comes to the outside world is watching her neighbors through the windows. One of these is Terry, a quiet, kind guy who occasionally crosses the street to give Angela a roll in the hay, and who is getting frustrated at her inability to overcome her neuroses. Safe in her nest, Angela plies her trade until some disturbing background sounds in one of her Kimi snippets plunges her into a deadly conspiracy.

In addition to the similarities to the movies mentioned above, “Kimi” has been compared to Hitchcock's “Rear Window.” It's fair to say that the film is not a complete original, but it does update the concepts for the Covid/internet era. The film at least touches on the myriad arguments around always-on, voice-activated devices. Clearly, they create privacy risks, and the film mentions that they can be hacked. On the other hand, the crime in this case would not have been discovered without the use of Kimi. Angela also uses Kimi to good effect in fighting back against her attackers. Speaking of which, we knew that Zoe Kravitz is a stone fox and a crackin' actress, but who would have guessed that she is also an action hero?

I want to give some credit to screenwriter David Koepp (“Jurassic Park” “Panic Room”). The characters don't always make the best decisions, but they at least make decisions that make sense for their character. This separates “Kimi” from so many lazily-written films in which the script just has the characters perform whatever nonsensical action is required to move the plot forward. “Kimi” is a tightly-crafted thriller with an excellent lead actress, that comes in at under an hour and a half. Tell Alexa or Siri to play it for you now!

4 stars out of 5

Licorice Pizza (2021) **1/2

 

It had been a while since we had a rambling, talky movie from director Paul Thomas Anderson. His last feature came out in 2017, so I guess we were due. In the interim, Anderson made a bunch of music videos for the band Haim, which is how he wound up casting Alana Haim in his latest, “Licorice Pizza.”

Haim plays Alana Kane, a 25-year-old photographer's assistant. Helping with a yearbook shoot, she meets 15-year-old Gary Valentine (Cooper Hoffman), a confident, charismatic child actor. The cheeky teen asks Alana out, and, out of curiosity, she agrees to dinner. They become friends, then business partners, and eventually a mutual attraction blooms. The film has faced some criticism over this May-December romance, but, to be fair, Alana acknowledges the creepiness of the relationship, and it's worth noting that the two do not have sex.

What happens here is that “Licorice Pizza” fools you. The film looks like it will be a coming-of-age tale about a 15-year-old boy, but it turns out to be a coming-of-age tale about a 25-year-old woman. The story is about Alana and her frustrated attempts to enter the adult world. Her photographer employer sexually harasses her by patting her butt. Her dad treats her like a child, quizzing her about her whereabouts when she comes home late. Every time she opens the door to adulthood, she sees people behaving badly, as exemplified by a show-off actor (Sean Penn) and a psychopathic film producer (Bradley Cooper). Compared to these assholes, the open-hearted Gary starts to look like a safer bet.

Alana Haim, in her first feature, pretty much carries the film on her narrow shoulders. She has this interesting, beautiful, hook-nosed face, and the singer turns out to be a decent actress. Some of the supporting stars, including Bradley Cooper and Sean Penn, provide moments of brilliance. Otherwise, though, the movie drags through its 2 hour 13 minute run-time. This is the film debut for Cooper Hoffman, son of the late Philip Seymour, and his performance is uneven, showing only brief glimmers of his father's talent. The story also just drags and seems pointless at times, veering off into a number of narrative dead-ends. Truth is, this is a recurring feature of Paul Thomas Anderson's films. Many of them have some great moments, but the only one I would re-watch is "Boogie Nights." I would recommend “Licorice Pizza” only for cinephiles who don't mind wading through a lot of filler to enjoy the latest, and certainly not the greatest, by a brilliant, but self-indulgent, director.

As for that title, it has absolutely nothing to do with the movie. Yet another self-indulgence, Licorice Pizza was the name of a record store Paul Thomas Anderson used to frequent back in the '70's, even though the store does not appear in the movie. It's kind of like the Who song “Baba O'Reilly.” (70's music fans will know what I mean.)

2.5 stars out of 5

Nightmare Alley (2021) ***1/2

 

William Lindsay Gresham's 1946 novel “Nightmare Alley” has already been adapted to film, in 1947. The newest iteration, however, features Guillermo del Toro's magical, weird touch.

Bradley Cooper plays Stanton Carlisle, a drifter with a dark secret. Stan falls in with a depression-era carnival, where he meets Clem (Willem Dafoe), who runs the geek show; Zeena (Toni Collette), a sexy tarot reader; and Molly (Rooney Mara), a sweet, young performer with whom Stan falls in love. Stan also gets to know Pete (David Strathairn), an alcoholic mentalist. Pete teaches Stan his system for “mind reading,” and Stan and Molly leave the carnival to create their own mentalist act. They have a successful show until they meet a skeptical psychologist (Cate Blanchett), who introduces Stan to some wealthy, powerful clients and elevates his grifting ambitions.

Do things go well for Stan? Well, by definition, in a noir film, things don't turn out well for the protagonist. If they did, they would call it Film Blanc, now wouldn't they?

Guillermo del Toro is mostly known for fantastical works like "Hellboy" and "Pan's Labyrinth."  It is fascinating to see him lend his sense of the macabre to something with no true supernatural elements. (Stan does pretend to channel spirits, but it is always clear that it is a scam.) Del Toro manages to make the simple offer of a drink menacing, and he makes a skinny, blond woman (Blanchett) a terrifying villain.

“Nightmare Alley” is a good film, but it is not great, and I was thinking, afterwards, about why. Partly, it's long. The bigger issue, though, is that in the great noir films, there is always someone to serve as a stand-in for the audience; someone who retains a shred of decency to stand next to us and hold our hand as we observe the sorry state of humanity. Many films have a detective, like Sam Spade or Philip Marlowe. “Double Indemnity” had the insurance investigator. "The Third Man" had Holly Martins. These character don't have to be perfect, just sympathetic enough to stand in for us as we watch dark people do darker things. In “Nightmare Alley,” Molly is sympathetic enough, and she has a moral compass, but she isn't central enough to the story. Stan is, by far, the main character, and he is far from sympathetic. It isn't a fatal flaw, and I would still recommend the film, but between the despicable characters, the disturbing imagery of fetuses in jars and such, and the film's length, this is one that I probably won't watch a second time.

3.5 stars out of 5