The Angry River - 88 Films

As my journey through Hong Kong cinema continues, it only makes sense that I should check out The Angry River (available for pre-order or regular order, if you’re reading this after May 12), the first film produced by Golden Harvest, a company I previously only knew from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movies. Obviously, my experience with martial arts movies is peripheral at best. I’ve watched spoofs of stuff like this (Kung Pow: Enter the Fist is my shit), but very little of the actual cinema being spoofed. In other words, I’m familiar with the clichés. 

In that regard, The Angry River is very enjoyable, and even comforting in a way. There are the familiar fight sound effects (the whooshing and clanging), the laughing villains (every time a bad guy speaks, he has to cackle first), the repeated musical cues, and plenty of action with bare minimum plot. It’s an easy watch, though it’s not all that memorable aside from being the first film of an iconic production company. 

There are a few surprises scattered throughout. A lot of the fights are fairly mundane, but suddenly there will be a decapitation or a hand cut off and the blood will flow. And then there was my favorite moment involving a bog monster. The costume certainly wasn’t at the level of the first TMNT movie, but any time a bog monster showers up unexpectedly, it’s a bit of a treat. 

Aside from that, this is a good example for me of what this genre was at the time: a simple story with plenty of fighting. I had a hard time keeping up with what sect was what and who was killing who, but the general plot was simple enough: the daughter of a champion must get the antidote to his poison and return to save him. The catch is that by attaining the antidote, she loses her “martial arts.” But if she takes the antidote for herself, she gains even more power than she had before. It’s all about honor and all that good stuff, but I just enjoyed how each character talked about the “martial world,” like everyone who practiced martial arts lived on a different plane of existence. It helps justify the supernatural elements. 

The Angry River isn’t the best of the genre, but it’s certainly an important entry, and though I still have a lot of catching up to do, I would say this is required viewing. And for those more in the know than me, this release is certainly the best option for physical media. It looks great and comes in the 88 Films slipcase I’ve grown so fond of recently. There is also a commentary with Asian cinema expert Frank Djeng, and the newly produced artwork looks fantastic.

The Coen Brothers - Ranked

When the podcast Blank Check with Griffin and David started covering the filmography of the Coen Brothers, I decided to make it a little project that I would inevitably fall behind on and possibly abandon entirely, and that nearly happened. I kept up for the most part, writing articles about every film I hadn’t already written about over the years, but when they got to the solo projects of Macbeth, Drive-Away Dolls, and Honey Don’t! I knew I was in trouble. I toughed it out for Macbeth, and I eventually re-watched Dolls, but when it came to Honey Don’t! I couldn’t bring myself to rewatch it, much less write about it. After finally listening to their episode on the latest Coen film, I decided to give up the solo part of it and just focus on the collaborative films. 

As stated above, I’ve written about every one of their films now (feel free to use the search bar if you want my extensive thoughts on any of these), so the ranking will commence. Just know that the solo projects, even the one I like (Macbeth), would be at the bottom of the list if I included them. These arbitrary rankings I do are just for me, and they are largely based on which films I want to watch again and again. With the Coens, I don’t want to watch any of their solo films again. As for the rest, I plan on watching nearly all of them again. Hell, some of them I’ve already re-watched since going through the entire filmography. 

The Coens are among my favorite filmmakers, and the amount of their films that I unabashedly love is ridiculous. There is not a single film on this list I dislike; there are just a handful near the bottom that I don’t feel like revisiting any time soon. For the ones at the top, these are among my favorite comfort films of all time that I could put on no matter what my mood is. Enough of my rambling; here’s the list. I felt obligated to write something for each entry, I just kind of free-formed it when it came to that.

Not-that-fun fact: When I realized I picked two milk-related pics for the collage at the top, I spent about ten minutes trying to find milk pictures for all five films. Raising Arizona was easy enough, and I even found a moment in Llewyn Davis when he’s pouring milk for the cat, but I would have had to take a picture of a screen for that one, and it looked like shit, so I stopped there. Not sure if there’s a milk moment in Miller’s, but there might be. Did I discover some weird milk thing with the Coens?

1. Miller’s Crossing

Jesus, Tom! I’m just going to use this spot to remind people that in the Vinny Veducci skits on SNL Bobby Moynihan’s son character is based on Jon Polito’s son in this film. That’s some deep Bill Hader shit, I’m sure.

2. Raising Arizona

Originally, I thought this would be lower, but the part when Glenn’s kid writes “Fart” on Hi’s wall came up in a random conversation the other day, and it occurred to me how much this movie has infiltrated my very soul. Just kidding, but I do think about this movie a lot.

3. Inside Llewyn Davis

As I become a bigger and bigger Dylan fan as I get older, this movie just seems to get better.

4. The Big Lebowksi

I recently watched Cutter’s Way for the first time, and it made me realize this was kind of a silly version of that film, which made me like this even more.

5. No Country for Old Men

Of all the scenes to revisit with this one, I keep returning to the part when Jones visits his cousin at the end and he says, “I always figured when I got older, God would sorta come into my life somehow. And he didn’t.” That has always stuck with me.

6. A Serious Man

This is where I need to remind you that I love all of these, and if nearly any other filmmaker had made this movie, it would be their best film by a long shot. With the Coens, it’s not in my top five, and that’s crazy.

7. True Grit

This was the biggest revelation for me upon a rewatch. I just thought this was a good one, but not elite until I watched it again, and again. This is the Coens at the peak of their powers.

8. Fargo

This is a masterpiece or whatever, but it took me many viewings over the years to feel that. Still, it’s one I need to be in the right mood for to revisit.

9. O Brother, Where Are Thou?

I used to teach high school English, and I used this movie when we covered The Odyssey. So I’ve watched this a lot, and I’ve had to read a lot of mediocre essays about it, too. And it’s still a movie I love to watch once every couple years.

10. The Man Who Wasn’t There

Deakins in black and white. That’s all.

11. Barton Fink

Maybe one day this will click with me like it has with a lot of cinephiles. But so far it hasn’t. John Goodman is on fire in this, though. See what I did there?

12. Blood Simple

I like this more each time I watch it, but it’s not a very fun one. Not that it has to be. But it does have to be to make it rewatchable for me.

13. The Hudsucker Proxy

It’s fun just for capturing the Raimi-ness of their early careers. But just a little too silly at times for me.

14. The Ballad of Buster Scruggs

Just feels too much like a limited series rather than a film, and if I’m rewatching a Coen western, it’s going to be True Grit.

15. Hail, Caesar!

Another that gets better each time, but something still isn’t clicking with me like the rest of their filmography does. Maybe it’s because I’m not that into the golden age of Hollywood stuff.

16. The Ladykillers

I know most people would put this at the bottom, but I have a soft spot for it mainly due to Hanks’s weird ass performance and J.K. Simmons talking shit with Marlon Wayans.

17. Burn After Reading

Ah, we’ve reached the “what the fuck?” spot on the list. This is where I need to remind anyone reading this that I like every single one of these movies. It’s just that some of their straight up comedies don’t hit for me. Though that last scene makes the movie.

18. Intolerable Cruelty

Something had to be at the bottom. If there’s a movie in their filmography that feels like a director-for-hire job, it’s this one. There are still plenty of great moments, and Clooney is great, but yeah, I don’t plan on watching this ever again, and I’m a little annoyed that I’ve watched it twice now.

There you go. Agree? Disagree? Who cares? If you read this whole list, it probably made you want to rewatch at least one of these, so go do that.

Cutter's Way - Radiance 4K

Cutter’s Way (out now on 4K from Radiance) is a movie I’ve seen referenced here and there over the years and always meant to watch but never did for whatever reason. Now that it’s out on 4K, I had a chance to finally rectify that, and I’m glad I did. This is one of those older movies that opens my eyes for other films I love because it was clearly an inspiration for other filmmakers. But what puts it on another level is how deceptively simple the story is in a way that makes it compelling on its own and depressingly relevant decades later.

But let me get the most obvious topic out of the way, first. John Heard is great in this, and anyone who only knows him as the Home Alone dad or even the corrupt cop in The Sopranos needs to watch this. At first glance, he retroactively looks like a caricature of a disgruntled Vietnam vet. He’s got the shaggy hair, beard, eye-patch, missing limb, and he’s sick of this shit! Thanks to countless other portrayals, like Gary Sinise’s Lt. Dan in Forrest Gump, it would be easy to dismiss Cutter at first glance. But Heard makes the character feel real, even if he amps it up to an extreme degree multiple times. There’s real pain in his eye, and he makes you understand his righteous anger with the world. Jeff Bridges and Lisa Eichhorn are great, as well, but this is Heard’s movie. 

Heard’s performance alone makes this worth watching, but its relevance stuck with me more than anything. Take out the 1970s of it all and Cutter’s rants still work. Capitalism has ruined a lot of things in this country, and justice is arguably the most important loss. Rich people seem to get away with everything, even murder, while the lowly regular people suffer, and there’s not much that can be done about it. Even when something drastic is done, it doesn’t change anything, and usually just leads to more suffering. We’re left with two choices: be like Cutter and let it consume you, or walk away like Bone (though even Bone can’t take it anymore in the end). Cutter’s monologue (though focused on Vietnam it can apply to any war or injustice) explains it so well in so few lines: “I watched the war on TV like everybody else. Thought the same damn things. You know what you thought when saw a picture of a young woman with a baby lying face down in a ditch, two gooks. You had three reactions, Rich, same as everybody else. The first one was real easy: ‘I hate the United States of America.’ Yeah. You see the same damn thing the next day, and you move up a notch. ‘There is no God.’ But you know what you finally say, what everybody finally says, no matter what? ‘I’m hungry.’”

Beyond that, this movie reminded me of two other films (though there are plenty of others to compare it to, I’m sure): Inherent Vice and The Big Lebowski. I connect this to Inherent Vice largely for the tone, but also for the slight ambiguity. The eerie score, while quite different from Vice’s, sets an apocalyptic tone signifying the end of an era or America or the idea of it anyway. And while there is a specific man they’re after in Cutter’s Way as opposed to the mostly faceless evil cabal of Inherent Vice, it’s still the same. We’re not sure if Cord has actually committed murder, but it doesn’t even matter. Anyone with that much money and power must have blood on his hands. Both films show the miserable conflict of knowing things are terrible, but also knowing there’s nothing that can be done beyond getting yourself killed on principle. 

The Big Lebowski is the more obvious, if tonally different, comparison. Of course, there’s Bridges; in both films he’s a reluctant participant in his Vietnam vet friend’s conspiracy quests. In many ways, I find Lebowski to simply be the light-hearted comedic version of this story. The world’s fucked, but fuck it, let’s go bowling. It’s as if the Coens watched this movie and took Cutter and Bone and found the most extreme comedic versions of both. In Bone, the go with the flow quasi-gigolo became the constantly stoned Dude, who just wants to be left alone. In Cutter, the darker elements have been stripped away leaving only the goofy diatribes that somehow connect Vietnam to everything. It’s not a one to one, and I don’t actually think the Coens were trying to make a version of this (from the title alone, they were more clearly going for a neo-noir comedy), but it’s impossible not to think of The Big Lebowski while watching Cutter’s Way and vice versa.

It may have taken me way too long to get around to watching Cutter’s Way, but it hit hard once I finally watched. I actually watched it twice within a couple days. This film stuck with me, and I’ll be thinking about it for a while. And thanks to Radiance’s new 4K, I’ll have a great version to check out when I inevitably revisit it after rewatching The Big Lebowski. 

Special Features and Transfer

This is the kind of movie 4K was meant for. Of course new movies will look great; they already look great on blu-ray. But when a film from decades ago gets the treatment, it adds another layer to enjoy, and this one looks great. 

As for the special features, Radiance is up there with all the other boutique labels. The artwork and case is high quality. And there’s a book included with essays and whatnot. 

There is just one new featurette with three writers (George Pelecanos, Megan Abbott, and Jordan Harper) mainly talking about the source novel and its author, Newton Thornburg. It was decent, and it gave me a few books to add to my ever-growing read list.

On the blu-ray (but not the 4K), there is an option to watch the original title sequence from when it was rightfully titled Cutter and Bone. It might seem trivial, but it’s just nice to see that title on the screen.

Everything else is archival, but what’s great about Radiance is that they go through all the other previous editions and bring all the features together on one release. So you get all the commentaries, featurettes, and interviews from past editions. I only checked out the interviews, and they each offered interesting insights into the making of the film.

Soldier - Arrow 4K - Battle at Tannhauser Gate*

*Battle at Tannhauser Gate not shown.

When I first watched Soldier back in the late ‘90s, I wasn’t too impressed. I wasn’t all that into Blade Runner yet, so the connections were lost on me. When I found out it was actually a stealth sequel or prequel or sidequel or whatever a few years later, I checked it out again, assuming I would like it much more. I didn’t. So here we are with this new Arrow 4K release (available for pre-order now, or regular order if you’re reading this after 4/28), and I figured the third time’s the charm. And it kind of was, but not for any Blade Runner connection.

The Blade Runner stuff is very surface level, and it’s talked up much more in all the special feature stuff than it is in the actual film. There are references like the Tannhauser gate, and the new Soldier recruits might even be replicants (and there’s no denying that’s where the military is headed in this film), but overall it’s just a space western, with a wounded Kurt Russell learning how to be a human as he tries to protect some civilians on a trash planet. 

The use of Russell as more of a killing machine than a human has always rubbed me the wrong way, and it still does. I just don’t think it’s a good idea to take one of the most charismatic actors of a generation and turn him into an almost unspeaking machine (he doesn’t speak until the 27-minute mark, and even then it’s not like he opens up). It is what is, but I still prefer Russell in more human roles. 

Once I got over the use of Russell and the fact that this doesn’t really have that much to do with Blade Runner, I could finally enjoy it for another reason: nostalgia for big sci-fi movies from the ‘90s. This movie has a lot of practical sets, explosions, and action in general and compared to most action movies today, it’s amazing. Back in 1998, we were a little more used to stuff like this and didn’t realize how good we had it. Looking back now in glorious 4K, I can appreciate a bygone era.

Sure, the stuff in outer space is largely CG, but the trash planet is very practical, and it looks great. The action doesn’t disappoint, either, with a ridiculous, giant, fully functioning rover taking centerstage for a lengthy action sequence. And the final battle between Russell and Jason Scott Lee is a memorable and satisfying battle between the old and the new. 

Soldier isn’t the underappreciated classic secret Blade Runner pre-post-sidequel that I may have wanted, but it is a fun example of what sci-fi action movies used to be. And any fans of the film, new and old, should look into picking up this new 4K release.

Random Thoughts

You can get the full list of Kurt Russell references in the list of commendations at the beginning, but my favorite (which you can only half-see) is the Captain Ron Trophy. How do you get that? But just being a fun dude to be around at all times? 

I would never want my name tattooed on my face, but I would really not want it tattooed on my face if my name was Todd.

“We need a real fascist British guy to play the commander.”

“Say no more, Jason Isaacs is already on his way.” 

I get that an aircraft carrier looks cool on a trash planet, but does it really make more sense in the future to fly that thing to another planet instead of scrapping it on earth?

I understand why this failed: “Let's take one of Hollywood's most charismatic and likeable stars and make him a nearly mute, barely human soldier.”

Couldn't help but think of Seinfeld when he cried for the first time: “What is this salty discharge?”

Nice to see the trash people reusing old CDs, even if only for decorations. They respect physical media!

Jason Scott Lee was the original Dave Bautista in this.

Transfer and Special Features

It's Arrow, so it looks great. All the practical sets and action look even better.

James Black is just happy to be here. Nice of them to use some clips from his early no-budget work.

The production designer does his interview on zoom, but the good folks at Arrow added a nice touch by framing him with some Soldier-type nonsense on the sides.

He confirms that this was a big soundstage movie, and man, I miss big soundstage movies.

Visual effects supervisor Van Ling is responsible for all the Kurt Russell references on the info screen at the beginning. He said he did it because of laserdisc, and he knew viewers at home would be able to see it. God bless you, sir.

The archival featurette focuses on the Blade Runner connection quite a bit.

The Accountant / Randy & the Mob

Ray McKinnon has been one of my favorite “that guy” actors since I first saw him punch George Clooney in the face in O Brother. Since then, it’s always been great to see him pop up from time to time, most notably in Deadwood. Over the years, I’ve looked up his IMDb when I see him in something and when I come across the “Won 1 Oscar” part of his bio it always stops me. Did he win an Oscar for The Blind Side, and I just erased it from my memory? Nope, it was a short film he made with his wife, the late Lisa Blount, and former “that guy” and current big deal Walton Goggins. With the new blu-ray release of The Accountant and McKinnon’s southern crime comedy Randy & the Mob, I finally got to check out why he won that Oscar.

The Accountant on its own is worth checking out and writing about, but there are so many connections and similarities with Randy that it just makes sense to cover both. The Accountant is about two brothers (Eddie King and Walton Goggins) trying to save the family farm. Goggins brings in the titular accountant (McKinnon) to solve their financial problems. The premise itself is fairly commonplace in southern pop culture. There’s always a farm that has been lost or is in danger of being lost, etc. What makes The Accountant stand out is its dissection of what it means to be southern and the quirkiness of the accountant. 

First, the quirkiness. The accountant does plenty of weird shit, like stomping to count everything and chugging whatever beer is available (imports will do but he prefers PBR), but that alone doesn’t make a character. He has moments in which he turns into an angry southern robot, having to yell to get through to the brothers. It’s truly one of McKinnon’s best performances. 

McKinnon shines the most when philosophizing about the southern way of life and how corporations are ruining it to the point that future generations will “eat cornbread that’s sweet and drink iced tea that’s not and think it’s tradition!” He rails against “real” people in entertainment like Billy Bob Thornton (a kind of in-joke as this and Randy are clearly influenced by Sling Blade, and McKinnon would go on to direct Thornton in Chrystal), that can’t be real country if they’re allowed to make films and whatnot. 

That is the accountant’s mission statement: save the southern way of life one farm at a time. Even if it means someone has to be maimed, or a pet needs to die, or a spouse needs to be murdered. 

Viewed from today’s lens it comes close to coming across as a little too Jan. 6, but you can’t take it too seriously when one of the primary culprits in the conspiracy to bring down the south is Boston Market (I suppose Boston Market’s capacity for evil made more sense to fear back in 2001 [things truly were better back then]). 

Despite that little conspiracy hiccup (which the film doesn’t exactly endorse anyway), it’s easy to see how The Accountant won an Oscar and helped McKinnon get his foot into the door of Hollywood. He took an overused premise and injected a truly original character into it and made the whole thing fresh and interesting when stories like this are typically drab and boring. 

At first glance, it doesn’t seem like Randy & the Mob would have much in common with The Accountant beyond sharing the same actors and filmmakers. It’s about Randy (McKinnon), an average dickhead who wants people to like him but fails to see that’s exactly why people don’t. He gets into ridiculous financial trouble trying to appear to be a businessman, he shuns his gay twin so people don’t question his sexuality, he belittles his son for wanting to play soccer, he ignores his clearly depressed wife, etc. Randy fucking sucks.

But then Walton Goggins shows up as a kind of version of the accountant, and the ease with which he becomes universally beloved finally wakes Randy up. Goggins is essentially playing a friendlier version of Carl from Sling Blade, but he still shares a violent past. 

If this sounds messy and all over the place, it’s because it is. I watched Randy twice and it grew on me, but I couldn’t help but wish that The Accountant had been feature length while Randy was given the short film treatment. But something said in the archival making-of documentary turned me around on Randy a bit. In it, McKinnon claims that the film is an attempt to take a subculture usually reduced to caricature, and show real people. In that regard, he is successful. This is a southern film that isn’t taking cheap shots at accents and redneck bullshit. It’s about good and bad people just getting by in a nondescript small town. As someone currently living that life, I can appreciate that. It doesn’t make for a completely entertaining film, but it’s still commendable. 

And that’s the true connection to The Accountant. It’s as if McKinnon is heeding the advice of his own character. Don’t preserve the south by catering to cliches and cartoonish nonsense. Show real characters, even if it makes the movie less palatable. 

Special Features and Transfer

Both discs look great. And that’s worth the purchase alone if you like either of these films, especially The Accountant. These movies are easy to find online, but the quality is iffy, especially for The Accountant. As for the special features, there aren’t any for the individual release of The Accountant. But Randy has that making-of doc, and…The Accountant is included as a special feature. It seems like a no-brainer to just buy Randy, but The Accountant alone is cheaper. So it’s nice to have that option.

Highway to Hell - Visual Vengeance

 

Highway to Hell, (out now from Visual Vengeance) a no-budget thriller from 1990 I had never heard of, can best be encapsulated in one scene. Mass murderer Toby Gilmore, recently escaped from prison, is making his way down the road in a stolen car trying to spread his hatred and violence anywhere that he can. As he drives by a “Pavement Ends” sign, he takes a shot at it and misses. Enraged, he doubles back, gets out of the truck, takes time to aim and shoots the sign, this time hitting his target. “Fuck you!” he yells as he climbs back in the truck to continue his rampage. 

This is the kind of stupid crazy shit I want from a villain. Toby (Benton Jennings) is just evil, and he fucking likes it. You can tell because he laughs constantly while doing terrible shit, like running over children or shooting random drivers. Too often, modern villains have to have some goal or some past trauma that shaped their lives. Not Toby. He’s just an old school fuckhead that needs to be put down. The closest we get to any kind of introspection from Toby is this line: “If it wasn’t for everybody else in the world, I wouldn’t be such a bad guy!” He’s a classic “I hate everyone” bad guy. 

If that sounds off-putting or miserable, then Highway to Hell isn’t for you. If you’re like me, and you enjoy seeing forgotten trash, then this is going to be a good time. It’s an ugly movie, to be sure, but Jennings and writer/director Bret McCormick inject enough oddness to make it worthwhile, like Toby being utterly committed to wearing a female victim’s sunglasses for most of the movie. Or the overused musical cue that eventually distorts when shit gets truly awful. 

I’ve never heard of Bret McCormick, much less seen any of this films. But there are a few trailers for his more gore-driven early work included on this disk. I might check those out one day, but they honestly looked a little too gross for my taste. Highway to Hell is plenty violent, but the low budget didn’t allow for any over-the-top gore, which actually made some of the moments more realistic and haunting. 

This may be the only McCormick film I ever see, but it did give me early John Carpenter vibes. You know, if Carpenter was dealing with a little less money and a lot less talent, and that’s a compliment. Highway to Hell is no classic, but it has a unique feel that’s hard to explain, and it has a refreshingly simple villain who just wants to watch the world burn.

Special Features and Transfer

This is the first movie I’ve seen from Visual Vengeance, but I assume each one starts with the same disclaimer that pretty much states, “This is the best we could with what we had to work with, if any of it is bad, it’s because the source material was fucked up. We think you’re going to enjoy it regardless.” This film in particular was taken from a VHS copy the writer had, so you can imagine it’s not pristine. But it would honestly feel wrong if it was. This is the best way to see this movie. It’s as cleaned up as possible, but you still feel like you’re watching an old VHS tape.

The special features are plentiful, with plenty of interviews and a commentary. There’s also a short feature directed by the writer of this film, but I wouldn’t recommend checking it out unless you’re just really into these filmmakers already. 

Hands down the best special feature was an “interview” with Richard Harrison, who was just enough of a “star” at the time to guarantee some money for the budget. Harrison is only in the film in interstitials getting updates on all the crazy shit going down (like Toby somehow taking out a chopper with a handgun). He only showed up once the action was over, and the victim had already saved herself (kind of like DiCaprio in One Battle). It’s clear that he wasn’t giving his all for this. And that is confirmed by the interview. The run time for the interview is about a minute and a half, but the actual footage of Harrison is five seconds of him calling the experience awful. It’s obvious that the interviewer was hoping for something a bit more in depth, but this wall he got, so there’s an overlong intro and a lengthy credits sequence around the five second clip. They were clearly having fun with the disappointing interview, and it got a good laugh from me.