Richard Matheson's Curse

I was going to begin this post with the observation that perhaps it is best that Richard Matheson has departed this dimension for the next. But I find that in fact he lives still, and I'm sure he's grateful for that fact. What must certainly peeve him, though, is the fact that despite three attempts (and three different titles!) the movie biz has failed to craft a worthy film version of his classic sci-fi/horror novel I Am Legend. I admit my memory of the novel being a roaring scary yarn may be at least partly aided by the fact that, as a high school sophomore, I read it in one day, in the midst of a raging fever that kept me home from school for my only sick day between 5th grade and the end of college.

But it is impossible to believe that any of the three film versions could have held a candle to the book, even had I watched them in the grip of a brain-damage-risking fever.

You should read the book, and perhaps might enjoy this page dedicated to it. But I'm sure at least one of you, dear readers, is on the verge of screaming at the computer screen: you are writing a movie blog! To be sure, to be sure. So, to the task at hand:

First attempt, 1964: The Last Man on Earth, starring Vincent Price. Filmed in black and white, for seemingly not much budget, this version is actually relatively faithful to the book. The fractured chronology works well, and there are some rather horrific moments along the way, but in the end the B-film hammy over-acting, some pacing problems in the middle, and a rather disastrously silly climactic action sequence derail initial optimism in the viewer. Still, on the whole, it may have to be judged the most successful adaptation.

Second attempt, 1971: The Omega Man, starring Charlton Heston. Bright beautiful color, some excellent shots of empty Los Angeles, and a much bigger budget again raise hopes that perhaps this, then, will be a worthy film of the terrifying book. Heston is in full scenery-chewing mode, but maybe it will work in this context. After all, he has the scenery to himself for much of the running time. But his vampiric foes have now been transformed into hooded Manson-family-esque cult-members with an aversion to bright light, and oozing sores on their faces. They see the plague as punishment for humanity's embrace of technology, and thus restrict themselves to attacking Neville (Heston) with sticks and stones, fire, and the occasional spear. (Isn't affixing metal to the end of a stick technology?) This makes the action scenes rather unsporting, mostly consisting of Neville machine-gunning robed figures brandishing clubs, or crashing his vehicle through screaming crowds. Crowds of robed figures. Brandishing clubs. And the occasional torch. Add in a seriously dated soundtrack (I know, should I really hold that against the film? It doesn't matter whether I should or not, I do.), some lame hippie-ish overtones, and some beat-you-over-the-head messianic imagery at the end (killed by a spear, blood saving the remainder of humanity, arms spread wide in crucifix pose) and it's another failed attempt. (Go rent Planet of the Apes instead. Now there's a sci-fi movie: "We finally really did it. [screaming] You maniacs! You blew it up. Ah, damn you. God damn you all to hell!" Now that's a scene built for Heston's kind of scenery chewing. Beautiful.)

Third attempt, 2007: I Am Legend, starring Will Smith. Now this is the most perplexing of the bunch. First the good: Will Smith is actually quite excellent in this role. You fully believe he could be this competent and strong, and also fully believe the growing signs of strain on his psyche. And this film starts very strong. Very strong. In fact, on a ten-point scale, I'd give the first hour at least an 8. Suspenseful, mysterious, even moving. I sat in the theatre, hope beginning to swell in my breast. [MILD SPOILER AHEAD.] And then it all goes to hell. And not in the "Wow, this is so scary as it all goes to hell" sense. No, rather in the "Wow, this director just forgot everything he ever learned about his craft and also fell on his head and then had his damaged brain replaced by half the brain of a rabbit" sense. Or something. I mean, once the dog dies it just completely jumps the rails. (Yes, that's right. The dog dies. It's a very moving scene, which is good since it's the last thing that makes a lick of sense in the film.) I'm not going to waste my time, or yours, listing off all the narrative problems from here on in, nor all the horrifically wasted opportunities to mine the rich irony of the haunting finale of the book. No, buy me a beer some time and I'll rant to the bottom of the pint for you. Last 30 minutes of the movie gets a 1 out of 10. Or less. It should be less because of how it squanders the good work of the first hour. Sigh. I'm depressed all over again. Why did I write this post?

Oh yeah, to tell you to read the book. It's great. Maybe someday, in another 10 or 20 years, they'll actually film the thing right.
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Special effects note: 1971 version is hilarious because Heston's stunt double is about a foot shorter than him, and Heston's hair is thin enough that the bushy Heston-color wig on the stunt double makes him look more like Hannibal on The A-Team than Heston. (I'm pretty sure it wasn't actually George Peppard, though.) 2007 version suffers terribly from the current obsession with CGI effects. Using actual physical actors in decent makeup for the vampires/zombies might have raised the last 30 minutes up to 2/10. But probably not. Sigh.

Buffalo '66: Means justify the end. [mild spoilers]

This film, written by, directed by, and starring Vincent Gallo, was even better than I remembered it. It's a very unlikely premise, and a great setup. Gallo's character, Billy Brown, zags between paranoia, fury, childlike terror, and violence. Yet somehow we still sympathize with him at some level. It's an excellent job of acting, very physical, very unfiltered.

But what struck me most about the film [mild spoilers ahead] was the fact that if you looked merely at the end of the film, it's an almost embarrassingly trite "messed-up dude redeemed by the love of a good woman" ending. I mean, really? He's just suddenly fine? And giving? And excited about life? I mean, this ending probably would seem over the top in a Meg Ryan/Tom Hanks pairing. (And, yes, I'll admit it, I've enjoyed some of those.) But in this case, the means have justified the end. There's been so much pain, so much discomfort, so much violent talk, so many screwed-up lives along the way. There's been so much time invested in us somehow finding compassion within ourselves for this loser that when the violent ending turns out merely to have been a figment of his imagination, and he chooses to go back to Layla, and suddenly it seems like everything might be okay... well somehow the fairy tale ending seems to have been earned in this case. (Warning to future filmmakers: you should still try to resist the fairy tale ending.)

It would be silly to sign off without mentioning Christina Ricci's wonderful performance as Layla. It's a challenging role, with real danger of the character merely being a cipher throughout. But the slow-dawning compassion and forgiveness she's able to communicate through her eyes and face give the character a depth and help justify some rather inexplicable choices along the way.

(Oh, and I'd not seen many (any?) David Lynch films before I saw this the first time, so the Lynchian elements had escaped me. Not this time. Luckily they worked too. Really a strange, moving film.)

Alien 3: Special Edition

I recently rewatched the third film in the Alien series. (Q: Should we just call it a trilogy and disregard the later films? Even when they're okay (Alien Resurrection, AvP) they fall so far short of the first two films that it just makes one vaguely sad.) In particular, I watched the 2003 Special Edition.

Now, I've always been someone who felt that Alien 3 got a bit of a raw deal. Yes, certainly, it falls short of the incredibly high mark set by the first two films. Alien is a brilliant sci-fi horror film, perhaps the best there's been. It still holds up very well today. (Again, I've said it before, but wow did Ridley Scott have a could few years there between Alien and Blade Runner.) Aliens dates from before James Cameron became a world-swallowing ego (or anyway, from before that world-swallowing ego of his destroyed his art) and is a brilliant sci-fi action/suspense film. Each is an almost perfect example of the heights the form can rise to. (That's not to say that you'll necessarily even like either film. I think that these are cases where if you don't care for the genre, that prejudice may be tough for the films to transcend.) Following on the heels of those two home runs, Alien 3 has a tough (impossible?) act to follow.

But David Fincher's film certainly had its moments, and you have to hand it to a film that manages to be significantly darker than two of the darkest sci-fi films ever made. The few quiet moments that Ripley shares with Clemens are rather touching, especially what we know she's been through in the previous two films. The ending is beautifully operatic.

To the problems: in the original version, the prisoners on the planet were rather indistinguishable, and thus we weren't as moved as perhaps we might have been as they one by one (and sometimes in twos and threes!) met their demise. The movie also always felt a little more talky than it probably needed to be. The pacing felt off in the last third, or perhaps even the last half. The 2003 Special Edition includes more moments of development of the various prisoners, and it makes a world of difference in how we relate to those characters. This is a significant improvement. Sadly, the inclusion of so much more character development tends to exacerbate the pacing problems present in the original version, and the film feels much longer than its 145 minutes. (There are quite a few differences, even in plot details, in this version. But I'll keep from being spoilerish, and leave those for the interested to discover.)

In the end, it's still worth seeing, and it certainly is the point at which the series should have ended, but even I must admit it fails to match up to the first two.

Short Takes on Recent TNFN Films

The Limey: Steven Soderbergh hits all the right notes in this tale of vengeance. After first testing radical intercutting of scenes in Out of Sight, Soderbergh raises the practice to a new level in this film, and it works beautifully. This film is also unpredictable and surprising at several different points, something which can be said of very few action/suspense films in these times. (Alas.) [I should add, if you've never seen the aforementioned Out of Sight, it's a masterful thriller romance based on a novel by Elmore Leonard. Much better than the more well known Leonard-based Get Shorty (which is still a cute movie), you owe it to yourself to rent O.o.S. ASAP if you haven't seen it already.]

Delicatessen: Jeunet and Caro collaborated first on this ultra-odd comedy of limited foodstuffs. Dominique Pinon is quite charming as the former clown and now handyman of a very strange apartment building. I'm not sure I learned anything new by watching this film again, but it certainly put a smile on my face.