Dan's Top Film Discoveries of 2019
Every year, without fail, I find myself settling into the grooves of my cinema-viewing habits; in January I hop back on the wagon and get to absorbing as many movies as I can in my spare time, which continues through the summer and hits a peak around late-August where I start pre-pre-gaming for Halloween. September rolls around and now I'm pre-gaming, October hits and I dive even further into my watchlist and then by the time Christmas is on the horizon, I so desperately want to watch as many holiday movies as I can, but I'm generally pretty worn down and I sigh the last few days of the year away.
Rinse, repeat, happy new year!
Well, here's a bunch of stuff I watched in 2019 that made me laugh, made me cry, made me hurl. Spew on, y’all.
A Killing in a Small Town (1990)
Sometimes movies will hinge themselves entirely upon a central performance. But when you’re like us here at Back Row–constantly seeking out that next overlooked gem, or misunderstood masterpiece–more often than not you’ll find that what was once powerful or intense has ultimately aged into camp or awkward execution. That conundrum typically leads to disappointment, but sometimes it can also lead to an entirely different kind of exciting discovery.
Thankfully, Stephen Gyllenhaal’s A Killing in a Small Town (which was made-for-CBS in 1990) manages to sidestep that problem thanks to a few knockout scenes and a complex performance by Barbara Hershey (who won an Emmy Award and a Golden Globe for her portrayal of Candy Morrison) that has aged wonderfully. As many films of this ilk are, A Killing in a Small Town is a ripped-from-the-headlines true-story, adapted from the book “Evidence of Love” co-written by John Bloom (aka Joe Bob Briggs) and centered around the murder of Peggy Blankenship at the hands of Candy. Brian Dennehy co-stars as the attorney who defends her actions as self-defense, but will the court believe his claim of self defense when the crime in question is a grisly axe murder?
Surviving (1985)
Surviving is a two-and-a-half hour made-for-TV movie starring Molly Ringwald, as a girl who is home from the hospital after an attempted suicide, and Zach Galligan, her former crush and family-friend. With the both of them struggling at home, their newly formed relationship begins to spiral out of control.
Since this is another TV movie (FYI y’all should watch more old TV movies, they can be so great!) it dips into melodrama frequently. Like the best of these kind of dramas though, the emotions are kept fairly grounded and the performances are uniformly quite terrific. Just look at the supporting cast attached to this movie: Ellen Burstyn, Len Cariou, Paul Sorvino, River Phoenix, Marsha Mason and Heather O'Rourke. Holy shit! It's packed.
Not only does this take a pretty nuanced look at its themes of teenage angst and suicide, the run time allows for ample insight into how these two families deal with the fallout. It’s depressing stuff, but effective and honest enough for a television movie of this age.
Office Killer (1997)
Office Killer has been unfairly pushed aside as mere slasher detritus for far too long. This was one of those films you saw sitting on the shelf of your local rental store with art that promises some kind of Scream-ish horror outing (albeit one with a terrific cast), which is likely why some ultimately took a chance on the tape. But those that did were rewarded with a phenomenally stylish horror-comedy from artist and one-time feature director Cindy Sherman. Cindy’s legendary Untitled Film Stills (1977–1980) have been described as tackling “disguise and theatricality, mystery and voyeurism, melancholy and vulnerability” and Office Killer–though rooted in darkly comedic filmmaking that feels distinctly ‘90s–achieves a similar feat of thematic juggling.
When Carol Kane, as Dorine, a proofreader for “Constant Consumer” magazine, is sentenced to working remotely as opposed to in-office, she’s devastated and unsure of what to do. One accidental murder later, and soon she’s amassing a collection of bodies in her basement. Sherman works contrasts not unlike the aforementioned descriptions of her photography; Carol Kane’s performance can be quirky and amusing, but has a depth that can shake the viewer at any moment. There’s acidic commentary on ‘90s office culture that borders on parody, yet never fully oversteps that boundary. The cinematography and set/costume design both reference the cliches of the genre, while also twisting ever so slightly to create a kind of visual unease.
My only complaint is that Office Killer didn’t lead to more films from Cindy Sherman.
Married to the Eiffel Tower (2008)
A documentary about “objectum sexual" (also known as objectophilia) women who favor inanimate objects as romantic partners, Married to the Eiffel Tower is a hard movie to write about. Not to mention to parse. It’s a film that explores and wishes to further understand objectophilia, illuminating this group of women from many different angles, while also tackling issues of tolerance and abuse. It’s also a movie that presents exactly what it is about, in no uncertain terms, leading to scenes such as one woman proclaiming “I'm definitely physically attracted to this fence, and I would like to get to know this fence better.”
I’m not exactly sure how else to explain this one, so I’ll have to mark it as essential viewing and leave it there.
V.I. Warshawski (1991)
Have you ever seen a movie where you read all the lukewarm to negative reviews, see their criticisms or issues laid out, nod your head and say “every one of these negatives are totally true, and yet they are all why I enjoyed this film?”
This has only happened to me a few times. Most notably with the 1988 film Feds, which is a film that lacks drive, has slack and messy plotting, and then just sort of ends with a shrug. But that’s why I like that movie, it’s a casual, shambling little smirk of a movie with great performances and relationships at its core. V.I. Warshawski achieves a similar feat, loosely adapting the titular character’s second novel “Deadlock” by Sarah Paretsky, but taking liberties and turning it into more of a comedic film.
As an adaptation, I’m told it completely misses what readers of the books have come to know and love. Yet, as a film it has a well-cast Kathleen Turner in the central role, with a relaxed pace that follows Warshawski investigating the murder of her new boyfriend. The plot threads are messy, there’s not much threatening to turn into true stakes, and yet somehow it was still so charming that it completely won me over.
Also, Kathleen Turner puts Wayne Knight's actual nuts in a nutcracker shaped like a woman's legs and squeezes, so... four stars.
Extreme Justice (1993)
Extreme Justice surprisingly walks the line between delivering on the over-the-top Mark L. Lester street-cop action you'd expect and actually trying to comment upon the true-life drunk-with-power cop-based vigilante death-squad. Of course, it also has to end with a one-on-one fight between Lou Diamond Phillips and Scott Glenn, but there's some great stunts in here when the action pops off (one in particular that involves a Jeep full of surfer-dudes). The rote investigator-breaking-the-story subplot actually works quite well too.
A few scenes dip into the too-gnarly considering today's climate, but overall this was a successful attempt by Mark L. Lester to pair his talents up with something a little more of-the-moment.
All This Panic (2016)
Easily one of the best movies about teenagers I saw throughout 2019 was All This Panic. It is a verité-esque documentary and completely honest look at a cast of young women growing up and coming of age in New York City. It was shot over the course of three years and feels alarmingly intimate and empathetic in ways that my favourite documentaries always are (see also: Seventeen from 1983.) I would love to see an Apted-esque follow-up reuniting these women with director Jenny Gage.
Buddies (1985)
Arthur J. Bressan Jr.'s blunt, bleak and incredibly powerful dramatic dispatch from the front-line of the ‘80s AIDS crisis is absolutely essential filmmaking. Buddies is incredibly brave and daring all around. The sense of urgency and raw outrage is palpable, and yet there's a care and sensitivity that makes the emotional force that much stronger.
Vinegar Syndrome have a truly important release on their hands with this BluRay and everyone should be paying attention.
No Man’s Land (1987)
I find myself reaching for a specific kind of cinematic comfort food lately; generally thriller, or thriller adjacent, usually made in the ‘80s with that slick vibe to it, and not too involved that I’ll get lost but just enough to carry me through. When I put on No Man’s Land I got just what I was looking for. No Man’s Land follows D.B. Sweeny who goes undercover in Charlie Sheen's Porsche-theft ring, but oh lord no he has gotten himself in too deep!!!!! Oh shooooot, what’s he gonna do?!
Basil Poledouris provides the ripping synth score that keeps your toe tapping, Peter Werner directs with crisp and slick neon style and… Ron Howard made sure it came in on time as Executive Producer? Super satisfying, though fairly unsurprising; didn't bother me much. Sometimes that’s all I’m looking for.
The Emperor’s Naked Army Marches On (1987)
Generally movies I watched for a podcast appearance don’t end up surprising me–either it’s a Canadian horror movie for Hoser Horror, or something more mainstream on my other show appearances. It’s really a once-in-a-blue-moon thing to be blindsided by a complete masterpiece that previously I hadn’t even heard the name of. This is what happened to me when I watched The Emperor’s Naked Army Marches On for Adam Eisentrout’s podcast Kawaii Trash.
The film is an incredible and uncompromising documentary that seems to defy any easy synopsis. Okuzaki Kenzo is a survivor of New Guinea in World War II who has been in and out of jail for everything from casting stones at the Emperor to, uh, straight up murder. In protest against the Emperor, Kenzo does everything from driving around in cars marked up with political slogans to attempting to uncover murders committed by military authorities. To do this, he brings family members of the murdered to meet face-to-face with those he believes pulled the trigger.
Okuzaki Kenzo treats these meetings like a surprise attack; he shows up unannounced, and is fully ready to kick or punch the "interviewees" if they aren't as forthcoming regarding their participation in these war crimes as he'd like. On so many levels, this movie is unbelievably compelling–it touches on everything from the way these men build up mental blocks to hide their guilt, to Kenzo himself and the hypocrisy of using violence to tear those mental blocks down.
Furthermore, there's the existence of the documentary itself. They film Kenzo attacking these men but do nothing to stop it; how about the camera's influence? There's so many angles to unpack this movie from that I was left pretty speechless. I'm sure there's plenty of other more detailed deconstructions of this movie, but it certainly is something you need to see for yourself.
Eastern Condors (1987)
I said to Carlo the other day that I have a problem with Hong Kong action movies. I get totally over-the-moon for them when I watch them, I then fill my watchlist with all his recommendations, but sometimes it takes some further nudging to get me to sit down again and watch them. I guess it’s all the cinematic comfort food I was talking about earlier clogging up my arteries–err, my viewing time. So, when I sat down to finally watch Eastern Condors, the 1987 action masterpiece from Sammo Hung, I knew I was in for something special that I was going to walk away from loving.
This isn’t one of those caught-with-a-surprise-left-hook kind of movies, but rather a slow motion wind-up and follow-through where you admire the form as it punches you straight upside the head with awesomeness. The plot consists of a classic on-a-mission set-up, finding a crew of prisoners who get one chance to earn their freedom by destroying missiles left behind in Vietnam by Americans. Sprinkle in some double-crossing, a heavy dollop of bewildering stunt work, fold in some hilarious comedy beats, and you got yourself a stew goin’. And by stew I mean one of the best movies ever, of course.
Metro (1997)
OK, what was that about comfort food? I’m really revealing how much of a basic motherfukker I am here today aren’t I? Here’s another “I saw this a hundred times at the rental store but never got around to renting it because, I dunno, did anyone actually like it?” pick. Metro is a hostage negotiation flick starring Eddie Murphy that has something to do with bank robbers and jewel thieves and whatever else you’d expect this kind of movie to be about.
But… how come nobody told me this movie rules? Worst thing I could say about this is the plot really bounces around for a while (I kept thinking the Donal Logue character was going to factor back into the plot somehow but he doesn’t really?). It doesn't lean too heavily on the action, but when it does it lands the punch. That car chase? Hell yeah. That’s worth a few stars alone, right there.
Eddie does a really great job balancing the comedy and the serious-cop elements–in some ways this can stand in for Beverly Hills Cop III–you know, the one where he didn't want to be funny. Well, here he gets the best of both worlds. Oddly enough, this usually-remembered-as-mediocre movie sent me out on a high that I chased for months. Where’s my next super-satisfying, big budget action flick with a good cast and solid direction?
Brain Donors (1992)
Pat Proft wrote this Marx Brothers throwback (A Night At the Opera specifically) and the Zucker-Abrahams-Zucker boys signed on as producers, so you should know what you're getting into here. Brain Donors is super silly, with tons of people falling down and spitting witty pun-based retorts. Definitely hits a point where it becomes too much and drags itself down with plot (something something millionaire’s will something something rich widow, lawyers, ballet company) but by the time we get to the big ballet finale I was back on board completely.
Director Dennis Dugan (Problem Child, every Adam Sandler movie ever) pulls a few ZAZ tricks like the backwards scene played forwards, but on a smaller scale. John Turturro is giving his ALL here and I really loved that. I also laughed REALLY hard at them using a harp to slice pound cake.
Ashes of Doom (1970)
How about a short review for a short film? Ashes of Doom is a hilarious Canadian anti-smoking ad; the montage of the woman chain smoking is edited perfectly. Props to the... props department... because this is a great looking set for a PSA that happens to be aping Hammer Horror vibes.
The Collection (2012)
I’ve heard defenses of The Collector and The Collection for a few years now, and in 2019 I took the plunge and watched the former. Well, I mostly hated it. Don’t get me wrong, I could understand where that movie’s fans are coming from but it just wasn’t for me.
However, its sequel The Collection drains a lot of the oh-so-edgy pretense of the first movie for something much more silly, over-the-top and satisfying; The Collector hanging out in the rafters like some Phantom of the Rave.... chef kiss emoji territory for sure. It actually left me wanting more, which if you had told me I'd feel that way after finishing The Collector I'd be like "pfffff fuck off" but here we are.
Baby Boy (2001)
The more I think about Singleton's penchant for the melodramatic (I've agreed with Eazy-E's "It's an after school special" take on Boyz n’ the Hood, though he'd later go on to say "I like after school specials.") the more I'm coming around on that element of his filmography.
In Baby Boy, it fully works; sections of the movie almost feel stage-play-esque. But it's when the movie dives head-first into relating it's central conceit through visuals (the opening scene with Baby Boy, fully grown and floating in a womb) that the movie really clicks. The movie is not unlike a coming of age film, following Jody as the titular Baby Boy–who has two children of his own from two of his relationships–as he struggles at home with his mother’s new relationship and attempts to find some direction all while lashing out at everyone around him.
It works terrifically as a drama with comedy undercurrents, often using one-or-the-other to rip you down to earth (also Taraji P. Henson completely steals the show in every scene). But once Snoop Dogg's Rodney enters the film and we see moments of Baby Boy's face flash over his, the movie fully becomes allegory in a way that I absolutely fell for.
Girls at the Carnival (1998)
There’s a phenomenon that I’ve noticed in the past few years, where home video footage and other weird personal artifacts get dug up online and end up presenting themselves as “Inadvertent Documentaries.”
I love this kind of stuff, whether it’s an album called “The Funk” recorded in 1995 by 12-year old “Macho Alex” that was only previously distributed on recess breaks before finally being unearthed and uploaded, or vintage footage of family vacations at Six Flag amusement parks on YouTube.
Girls at the Carnival is just that; a day of home video hanging out in the 1990s Ohio, with gossip, talk of getting wasted, a hilarious cast of characters, and a trip to the carnival–all turned into an inadvertent but captivating documentary by the passing of time.
"That's a good idea! Let's rewind it, and look at ourselves."
Dark Angel: The Ascent (1994)
I think at this point, people who know me are sick of hearing about Dark Angel: The Ascent. But, I don’t care because it’s wonderful. It's funny how spending so much time watching bad movies makes you appreciate something as simple as a film that respects its main character and treats their (albeit silly) predicament seriously. It can honestly be quite rare, so catching a glimpse of something like this is a special sight. Come for a fish-out-of-water movie about a demon from Hell in the big city becoming a spine-ripping vigilante, stay for the nuanced and delightful fantasy-romance.
This is well directed by Linda Hassani–unfortunately their only feature production–who makes it feel big and striking throughout with a mix of hellish fantasy and moody urban environments. Lead actress Angela Featherstone grabs the whole movie and drags it along with her emotive eyes alone, and the script not only allows for complicated emotional moments, but also for her to have a charming and completely un-exploitative romance with Daniel Markel's Dr. Max Barris character. Easily one of the best movies I saw all year.
Crystal Heart (1986)
The misguided piece of ‘80s cheese that doubles-down on its own sincerity is another one of life’s simple pleasures. When Carlo suggested we watch this when he was visiting Toronto, I surely couldn’t have predicted what we were signing up for.
Crystal Heart follows in the footsteps of other boy-in-bubble movies, but adds the musical angle to spice the drama up a pinch. Christopher (Lee Curreri) lives inside a “crystal room” because of a serious illness, but he’s head-over-heels capital-O obsessed with an up-and-coming pop star named Alley Daniels (Tawny Kitaen).
There’s a few dangling threads about how Christopher is also a songwriter, kicking out synth jams in his crystal room, but mostly this is a cranked-up love story full of dance montages, “romantic” scenes with little to no spark, people who call dogs “doggles” and one you’ll-never-see-that-again sex scene where our leads get naked and rub themselves up against the glass wall for a while. It’s a bewildering and indescribable experience that I feel everyone should have to sit through.
Gothika (2003) & Case 39 (2009)
This past Halloween I decided that I needed to lean in harder on my 2000s era horror movies; for whatever reason, my Letterboxd stats show a big dip when it comes to post-’90s and pre-2010s data. Which is funny, because that was precisely when I went to film school and started watching whatever I could get my hands on. I suppose I haven’t wanted to go back to that era of filmmaking since I got Letterboxd; at the time, I was surely the kind of person who looked at commercials for Gothika and Case 39 and scoffed at the state of theatrical horror releases. I’d love to go back and smack that Dan upside the head, because in 2019 I was in prime headset to return to these trashy horror movies and love them for what they are.
That said, I’m sure Gothika–a movie about women needing to believe one another because gaslighting men are garbage and will pick apart everything they say and do in the wake of extreme trauma–would have soared right over my head at the time, so maybe it’s best I waited until now to check it out. The movie doesn't exactly stick the landing, and its relatively dated effects in the finale doesn't do it any favors, but otherwise it’s a great “no one believes me” kind of horror-thriller that was directed with style and flair by Mathieu Kassovitz.
Halle Berry is fine here, but the movie certainly didn’t deserve the critical thrashing it received. Critics in the late 2000s must have really hated when blockbuster actors were in trash, right? So many movies of this era got barrel-scraping scores despite being juuust fine. How else can you describe Case 39, an “evil kid” riff that checks all the prerequisites of the genre but has that wonky foreign-director-working-in-america je ne sais quoi that kept the whole thing very entertaining. Even the CGI bug scene worked for me!
Check ‘em both out, I say!
Psycho Pike (1992)
How does one talk about Psycho Pike? Well, for starters it was technically a lost film for a number of years, before finally resurfacing when some intrepid internet-dweller uploaded their screener VHS copy. Before this happened, the movie was a glint in the eye of a) people who were involved with the film b) people who remembered reading about it in a 1992 copy of Cottage Country magazine (where it was dubbed ‘Cottage Country's First Psycho-Drama’) or c) a small group of rabid individuals who had targeted it as the next white whale of VHS/cult cinema collecting.
Even stranger, it’s purported to be based on a 1982 novel "The Pike" by Cliff Twemlow, which in the eighties was set to be adapted into a (likely much more legitimate) feature film starring Joan Collins. Well, it’s for the best that adaptation failed, because without it we may not have Psycho Pike, which feels like it was shot by some friend-of-the-family types on summer vacation, and is stuffed with hoser-y accents, silly side-plots about kung-fu, evil toxic-dumping villains, and the titular fish with attitude himself.
Truly a Canadian Classic, eh?
