Experiments in Cum-Inducing Beauty: The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford - The Train Robbery Sequence

Movie Theme Song Wednesday: Team America: World Police (2004)

dir. Trey Parker


"America, Fuck Yeah" - Trey Parker

Gorilla at Large (1954)

dir. Harmon Jones


"That costume does look quite real on you."
-Laverne Miller

Cameron Mitchell, Anne Bancroft, Lee J. Cobb, Raymond Burr, Lee Marvin--were these five actors to have performed together the resultant movie would have been such a monumental, blisteringly powerful achievement, it would have burned right through the celluloid. It'd be that fucking good. No film stock yet produced could have contained the energy. Alas, such a grouping of actors could exist only in my wildest imagination...or so I had previously thought. Apparently, someone learned of my desire for such a movie, went back in time to the fifties and produced the 3d thriller extravaganza Gorilla at Large under the auspices of a below the radar film company. Wow, this movie has the previously mentioned actors and a killer gorilla? Oh happy day.

Perry Mason star Burr plays the carnival's seemingly nefarious owner Cy Miller. Conflicts up the wazoo are established right from the get go, as Miller is in the middle of a sordid relationship with trapeze artist Mrs. Robins- er, I mean, Laverne (Anne Bancroft). Just how sordid is this relationship? Well, it would seem that these two lovebirds hooked up immediately after her previous hubby, trapeze artist Kewpie Adams, just so conveniently fell to his death when performing an act with Miller and Laverne (yes, Kewpie was the motherfucker's name [Side note: a person unfortunate enough to be cursed with the name Kewpie has only two possible career options: One is working in a carnival and the other involves swallowing copious amounts of cum (In case you didn't understand this witty bit of innuendo, I'm talking about prostitution. The person would be a prostitute.)]). Incidentally, Laverne had gotten mixed up with Kewpie, only after ending her relationship with Faulknerian Idiot Man-child Gorilla trainer Kovacs (Peter Whitney). That's just a whole big bag full o' tawdry right there. That's what that is.

Perry Mason soon grows suspicious when Mrs. Robinson decides to start a new act with young carny Joey Matthews (Cameron Mitchell). Perry Mason feels that he could be pushed out of the picture after he surreptitiously witnesses Mrs. Robinson and Matthews gettin' they dalliance on. Why would Perry Mason be worried? It seems that in addition to losing his lover, he would lose his life. You see, as we will find out in the film's thrilling, surprising conclusion, Mrs. Robinson is a black widowish type, only too happy to dress up in a gorilla costume and bump off old lovers, thereby pinning the blame on the giant gorilla Goliath. [SPOILER ALERT: YOU JUST READ A MAJOR FUCKING SPOILER!] You would think that dressing up in a bargain basement gorilla suit in an attempt at framing a supposedly murderous ape would be a monumentally stupid way to commit murders. Fortunately, Goliath, the "actual" gorilla in this film, is just as hokey looking. Steven Spielberg, in Jaws, had the good sense to mercifully limit his fake shark's screen time. With Gorilla at Large, however, the filmmakers proudly showcase their cheapo gorilla suit clad stuntman.


The extent to which this film paints Perry Mason as the killer, only to pull the rug out from under us, is quite comical. In an early scene Perry Mason goes and fires ne'er do well carny Morse (John Kellogg) for apparently non-existent reasons. This scene is layered with the sort of intrigue, subtext and pointed barbs generally reserved for movies about institutions of infinitely more importance than carnival life. Adding to the intrigue, Morse is offed in the following scene, his body being discovered in Goliath's cage. Although most of the characters are revealed to have motives, all of the obvious signs point to Perry Mason. Specifically, Morse had been black-mailing the carnival owner for his earlier involvement in Kewpie's death (or so we would think). Apparently, director Harmon Jones was attempting to show that the world of carnyin' was just as ripe for intense, high powered thrillers as was the political/corporate world. This was the only theme that I took from this movie. Carnival life is no different from corporate life.

Indeed, everything about the carny world, as presented here, is hilariously incongruent. Perry Mason is a dapper dresser, whose well appointed office is stocked with a liquor cabinet full of only the finest imported spirits. If this movie were set at a real carnival, the only murders taking place would be those of patrons falling from the rides--rides shoddily maintained by AA members and ex-cons more interested in getting sleeve tattoos sufficient enough to mask track marks than in keeping all of the equipment up to code.



There's so much doin's a transpirin' here that an expert has to be called in to make sense of it all. Enter Lee J. Cobb as the crusty but benign Detective Sgt. Garrison, a man intent on cracking this case wide open. This son of a bitch is tough as nails, but damned if he don't get his man (or gorilla, or woman as the case may be. In case you didn't already read the spoiler above, it's a woman in this case). A man as gruff as Garrison sure would need a comic relief foil to counteract his orneriness. Thankfully he has Lee Marvin as incompetent sidekick Shaughnessy. [Side note: To prepare for his role as an Irishman, Marvin spent his entire life being an alcoholic (wow, what a cheap, easy joke. I'm getting lazy.).] Although Garrison initially suspects Matthews is the killer, Matthews soon helps the detective find the real killer, and in his free time, love on said killer.


The almost love story between Matthews and Mrs. Robinson is one of the more confusing/interesting plot threads in the movie. Matthews is a young kid who took up with the carnival alongside his girlfriend Audrey (Charlotte Austin) in order to grow a nest egg and save some money for law school. One would think that a monkey wrench would have been thrown into the works of this young young relationship after Matthews took up with Mrs. Robinson. Although the relationship started off innocent enough, Matthews and Mrs. Robinson would eventually, in one scene, share a deep, passionate kiss. This may not seem like much by today's movie standards, but if we use the "filmic representations of sex inflation calculator," we will see that Matthews, in effect, has cornholed Mrs. Robinson. This was a pretty big deal. Interestingly, no conflict between Matthews and Audrey ever arises as a result. Indeed, no moral questions are ever raised in regards to his involvement with Mrs. Robinson. Matthews and Mrs. Robinson become briefly involved and then the potential problem is solved when Mrs. Robinson is arrested for murder. Matthews and Audrey go off and live happily ever after. Could this be a Mad Men-esque attempt to portray Matthews as a complex character who, although he may love his girlfriend can not squelch his desire to spread his seed, a man with battling loyalties? Maybe, it is just a sign of the chauvinistic times in that the men-folk can go about bein' all philanderin' and such, while the women-folk would have to be punished for such actions. In this world, although it's natural and indeed welcomed for a man to cheat, a woman who would cheat would be seen as so nefarious that she would also have no problems with cold-blooded murder. Or maybe all of this is just due to sloppy writing? Or could I just be reading too much into a shitty movie? [Side note: My Robert Evans-esque tendency in this piece to ask myself questions is starting to annoy even me. I will stop it.]

I would be a liar were I to say that I didn't get caught up in the whole murder mysteriness of this movie. The film's eventual surprise was something of a shock. Admittedly, I have never been adept at deducing the identities of the killers in movies of this sort, but I was still surprised that I couldn't figure this one out. Mostly, this ending surprised me insomuch as I expected the reveal to be little dumber than it actually was. I had actually expected that this movie would go with the extremely obvious choice of Perry Mason as the killer. I had assumed that the finger pointed at him the entire time because the writers were inept at creating suspense. Then they changed that shit. I see what you did there, movie. I thought you were gonna zig, and then you went and zagged on me. How sneaky of you. The film's surprise twist manged to surpass my exceedingly low expectations. By these standards, Gorilla at Large is an accidental success.

[The trailer:]


Dave's Rating:

Toy Movies

This Makes Me Giggle

Movie Theme Song Wednesday: Footloose (1984)

dir. Herbert Ross


"Footloose" - Kenny Loggins

Fair Game (1985)

dir. Mario Andreacchio


"Look, the boys were just having a bit of a game. No one meant you any harm."
-Sony

After putting it off for many years, I finally sat down and read Jared Diamond's insightful book Guns, Germs, and Steel. I know very little of this sort of science stuff, so it's always fun to read such writin's in the hopes of edumacating myself. To paraphrase (and probably fuck up) one of his main points, availability of natural resources and domesticable wild plants is one of the most important factors in the ability of a people to produce an advanced society. Australia, because it lacked these important resources, never advanced far beyond the hunter-gatherer stage until it was colonized by the dregs of British society. For many years the people had to make do with what was available and only when foreign crops were introduced were they able to produce an indutrialized society.

Interestingly, some parallels exist in modern Australia's film industry. Although this country has produced some important works over the years (The Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith, the films of Peter Weir), it is associated in America primarily with the Mad Max and Crocodile Dundee movies. As we all know, if a movie isn't successful in 'Merica, then it doesn't count. Subsequently, a fair share of Australian movies have aimed for overseas success in the only way they know how, by aping the aforementioned flicks. Of course, this phenomenon exists in the film industries of all nations, but the window of acceptably exportable box office friendly fare in Oz is quite smaller. So exists Mario Andreacchio's Mad Max inspired outback thriller Fair Game. [Rereading this, I realize that my Guns, Germs, and Steel parallels are tenuous at best. I'll leave that shit in, however, because why the hell not? It makes me look all well-rounded and shit for referencing something non-movie related.]

Australian beauty Cassandra Delaney stars as Jessica, an animal lover in charge of a large nature preserve. Things go swimmingly for her until she comes across three poachers who have trespassed onto the preserve and offed some of Australia's cuddly critters. She attempts to thwart them and they in turn spend the rest of the movie terrorizing her. Although these sadistic bloodthirsty folks have many opportunities to kill Jessica, they usually let her escape. And although she has frequent opportunities to similarly dispose of them, she never does.


Stupidity is not isolated to these folks, however. In Jessica's first encounter with the ruffians, she is run off the road and nearly killed as the goons use their two vehicles two sandwich her truck and fuck with her. When she reports the encounter to local lawman Frank, the incredulous Aussie quickly dismisses her wild claims. Them boys were probably just having a spot of fun. Nothing to get worked up over. More than anything, Frank is annoyed that Jessica would waste his precious time by coming to him for help.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, this is what happens when you live in a country colonized by convicts.


[Side note: It has always been a pet peeve of mine when, in movies of this sort, the protagonists arrive bloodied and shaken at the police station to complain about murderous individuals, only to be laughed out of the place by skeptical cops.

"So let me get this straight. Two years ago, you went on a camping trip with your schizophrenic girlfriend Karen and two other couples. Things were going swell until you told your girlfriend that you had no intentions of ever getting married or having kids. What began as a lover's squabble soon erupted into a nakedly brutal, raw, venomous war of words. Your girlfriend unleashed a mighty frenzy attacking both you...and her voices. You told her you wanted to call it off and she stormed off into grizzly bear alley. Because you were mad at her, you let her go--knowing full well, of course, that her chances of survival were slim to nil. The next day, overcome by pangs of guilt, you informed the two other couples and the authorities of the events of the night previous. A massive manhunt was soon underway. After a month with no luck, it was only natural that you assumed her dead. Despite the absence of a body, a funeral service was still held. Her parents blamed you, of course, and nothing you said or did could change that. Perhaps it was because, deep down, you also blamed yourself. To assuage your feelings of guilt, you paid for the funeral service. Paradoxically, this only served to cement your guilt in the eyes of her parents. During long, sleepless, sweat-soaked nights you have lain on your empty bed cursing yourself, your stubborn girlfriend and those woods, those godforsaken woods. And now, two years later you have been receiving mysterious phone calls, texts, emails, and letters with strange allusions to the events of two years prior. Why someone would still write letters in this electronic age is a mystery. Deep down, of course, knowing of your girlfriend's propensity for retro cultural artifacts (be they clothes, music, film or modes of communication), it was only natural that you assumed her the party behind these cryptic letters. And now, now you're saying that a knife wielding hooded person broke into your home and attacked you before you narrowly escaped. Could Karen still be alive and wreaking her revenge? Maybe one of her parents is responsible. Or perhaps, just perhaps a heretofore tertiary party, a person that has only played a minor part in your life story has come out to attack you for some as yet to be revealed, but ultimately insightful reason? A reason that would tie in the events of two years prior as well as other seemingly unrelated bits of your life."

"Yes. I don't know why you just repeated everything I told you, but that's exactly what happened."

"Like I'm gonna believe that."

"But what about these wounds. I've got knife wounds all over my face."

"Probably cut yourself shaving."

"Yeah, but-"

"No, you yeah but you. Listen, goddamnit, if I helped every wild-eyed loon who came in here with crackpot 'I'm being attacked' stories, then I wouldn't be doing my job, I'd be working. Now get the hell out of here before I really give you something to cry about."

Of course, none of this happens in Fair Game, but you get the gist.]

In one of the film's most blatant examples of stupidity, an axe-wielding Jessica sneaks up to the sleeping poachers. She then breaks into their truck where she steals their guns and a blowtorch and moves off into the distance. Under the moonlight, she welds the guns together. What is happening here? Could she be constructing some sort of super weapon with which to fuck these men? Cut to the next morning. The men are still alive. They wake from their slumber. What's going on here? The men look up to see that she has welded the guns together to produce an avant art piece. Perhaps this sculpture is meant to attack their antiquated notions of hunting and militarism. Perhaps it is a nonsensical dadaist piece, neither inviting nor producing easy interpretations. Perhaps it is a purely abstract piece, meant to be admired on solely aesthetic grounds. One thing it doesn't do, of course, is kill the villains.


Fair Game as a whole is mish mash of similarly odd scenes in which both sides miss opportunities to do away with the other. It is a thriller of the stupendously stupid variety. Perhaps I have exaggerated this film's indebtedness to Mad Max. Truth be told, the car chases and the look of the villain Ringo are the most Mad Maxian aspects of this movie. Fair Game functions more or less as an American slasher/rape/revenge picture, except minus the slashing and raping. Although mostly by the numbers, Andreacchio's film does contain enough thrills, oddities and a sufficiently cathartic revenge sequence to recommend it.

Dave's Rating: