Black & White Friday: Body Double

Brian DePalma uses two "not everything is as it seems" devices within the opening minutes of this Body Double, including this one here right as the title is on screen. He's hardly the most subtle director out there. Softly softly, Mr DePalma. I recently just watched Body Double for the first time and I really didn't know much about it other than what I had, ahem, learnt about from Jason (<-Spoilers), but I kinda loved it. Totally conducive of me screaming "WHAT THE FUCK?!?" several times, but love it nonetheless.


I can't tell if the rear projection here is bad because it's bad or bad because its 1984 meant to look like 1954.



Blah blah Hitchcock blah blah modern day blah blah. I don't care if DePalma is ripping off Hitchcock, paying homage to him or simply being influenced by him, but I love his shots and the way even a blatant "duh! hitchcock!" moment such as this feels uniquely DePalma.


The Hitchcock project that Body Double reminds me of most is, actually, the resurrected Alfred Hitchcock Presents of the 1980s. That series was a modern day (for the time, 1985) update of the Alfred Hitchcock Presents series of the 1950s, and that's sorta what Body Double feels like. It's not quite authentic enough to actually pass as Hitchcock, but has all the elements you can see why its called "Hitchcockian". Having said that, I can only wonder what Hitchcock would have done with the 1980s with architecture like this!

Of course, the other thing that pops into my mind when I see this shot is Troy McClure!


The character of "Gloria Revelle", played by Deborah Shelton, is so '80s! She looks like she just walked off of the set of Dynasty via LA Law. It's kinda why I really enjoyed Body Double; in spite of all the "look at me! hitchcock!" stuff, the movie is still incredible of its time and the juxtaposition between the two elements are fascinating. Strange though to discover that Shelton's voice was dubbed!



These two shots actually reminds me of a moment I captured during Shutter Island with its multiple levels, playing with architecture, mind games and ideas of logic. Uh-huh. Of course, no amount of black and white can make anybody believe that first shot is anything other than Rodeo Drive in the 1980s.


Aah yes, a sudden onset of some debilitating phobia. It's hardly done with as much visual panache as Hitchcock did in Vertigo, but not many movies have the visual panache of Vertigo, do they?


This is all I am going to show of the infamous powerdrill sequence because you truly have to discover it for yourself to get the hilarious stupidity of it all (Shelton's "Gloria" is such a wet fish in this scene - damn woman, do SOMETHING!)


This is the first time we (technically) see Melanie Griffiths. It is over an hour into the film! Now that's my kinda Melanie Griffith movie! I'm not as repelled by her as some people, whose idea of a good Melanie Griffith movie is one in which she doesn't appear at all, but she's hardly the most exciting presence on screen, is she? She's not as bad here as she became in later movies - I think it was around the time of Pacific Heights? - but the less we see of her the better, I say!

From here on the film goes... well, you know where it goes if you're at all familiar with Brian DePalma's work. I must admit I was taken by surprise at how suddenly it detoured, but there you go. Of course, all of this was kinda pointless since the three key Hitchcock movies that DePalma was referencing/homaging/stealing from - Vertigo, Dial M for Murder and, most obviously, Rear Window - were all filmed in colour. Hell, Dial M for Murder was in 3D! I think 1984 just missed the mini 3D revival of the 1980s, actually. Melanie Griffith in 3D is something I can live without.

Five Shots: Blood

Black + White Friday: The Doom Generation

Sitting down watching Gregg Araki's oddly fascinating and increasingly bizarre love triangle The Doom Generation I couldn't help but wonder how he got such a gorgeous looking film and why indie movies of today look so much worse in comparison. This is a no-budget true-independent film about sex and violence and yet it somehow manages to be more visually interesting that those of today, which have sufficiently more resources at their disposal. Independent film sure has gone downhill, hasn't it? I tend to lay blame of the cheap affordability of digital cameras and filmmaking software for the demise, but I could be wrong.

Nevertheless, the fact is that the movie looks great. I personally loved all the hints to film-noir with its camera angles, plays with shadow and, that old prerequisite, a woman smoking (a lot).


This was originally going to be an entry dedicated solely to Rose McGowen because she's actually very wonderful in it - she was Independent Spirit Award-nominated for best debut performance one year before she got trapped in a kitty-cat-flap in horror classic Scream - but I decided to use for "Black + White Friday" 'cuz.


I don't have anything to say about this.


This is Parker Posey. Not much to say in regards to this, I just thought it was worth mentioning. I always hope that people discover Parker Posey in one her big movies and then go back to watch her old movies and then come across things like this and end up shocked and slightly deranged.


Neon just looks good in black and white, okay. It sort of feels like a Hitchcock reference - how apt considering the movie we're talking about here - and I love that shit. In fact, just yesterday on Twitter a some-time commenter here and some-time blogger at Sugacoobs made a note (I mentioned the Hitchcockian illusions in the Shutter Island trailer) that " People's fear of being called a Hitch-copycat has resulted in a Hitch-drout [sic]." How true is that? Brian DePalma needs to make another thinly-veiled Hitchcock remake pronto. :)


There are a lot of shots of Rose McGowen smoking like she's in a Wong Kar-Wai film. I withheld the urge and only capped three of them!


Sometimes movie references, such as this one to Night of the Hunter, are so obvious that hurt, but I think they get away with it. The character gets away with it, actually.


I'm not sure why Araki decided to make this scene of James Duval playing with a YoYo so artful, but he did and I thank him for it. Looks like something out of Eraserhead.


Oh the things Russ Meyer could have done with Rose McGowen!


I just really liked this shot, don't you?


Just so people don't think I advocate it or anything: Smoking kills... but looks hot on screen! Hmm, maybe all those talking heads who say movie characters smoking encourages young people to do it. But, then again, not all young people are Rose Mc-fucken-Gowen, okay!?!

Black + White Friday: Femme Fatale

Inspired by My New Plaid Pants' tribute to Brian De Palma, I thought I'd take a look at one of my absolute favourite De Palma flicks, the much-maligned Femme Fatale. What with it's bountiful hidden clues and amazing setpieces. So, basically like a lot of De Palma's critically lambasted flicks then. Femme Fatale is just pure crazy though. It has two title cards (one for a completely different movie) and it has so many "# Years Later" subtitles that you just have to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

In the title card up the top, it is only the opening credit sequence and Brian De Palma is already laying it on thick. Images upon images, layers upon layers, Romijn-Stamon upon Double Indemnity. While De Palma surely was having delusions of grandeur if he thought Femme Fatale was to be compared to that film noir classic, he gets props for being crazy and ballsy to not only allude to Double Indemnity, but to feature the film's ending in the opening sequence of his movie.


Somebody is always watching and taking photographs. Just one of the many aspects of the movie is that of privacy and how we don't have any left, but also how this very fact can be manipulated and turned to our advantage.


De Palma always does good opening scenes (even dud movies like Snake Eyes have thrilling opening passages) and I love how this heist sequence at the Cannes Film Festival (set to the music of "Bolero") even has this brief echo to Carrie with it's female hands seemingly lost in the steam (of course, it's just a frosted glass window and the girl is in the throes of a lesbian make-out session, so...)


I just really liked this shot.


For such a high profile director, Brian De Palma sure does wear his inspirations proudly. Not one to shy away from not only referencing, but outright stealing from the likes of Hitchcock. Nevertheless, it always feels fresh coming from De Palma yet if it were almost any other director it would come across as silly and unoriginal. Funny that.


Having watching this movie several times, it still tickles me pink to see De Palma being so obvious with his clues. Deja vu, indeed. Having said that, Antonio Bandares is definitely the weakest part of the film.


Camera lights always provide interesting images in this series due to the high contrast, but this one is especially interesting in that the two people that the light is reflecting off seem like otherworldly ghost figures jumping out the viewers. In fact, they remind me of these two characters from another noir-inspired flick.


Feels like a classically framed image, no?


Man, is there anything quite as beautiful as Paris in black and white? Absolutely gorgeous.


Well done to me on getting a screengrab from this sequence that doesn't show any of Romijn's naughty bits (and they are on full display). I almost expect her character to swim to the top of the water and start doing some Busby Berkeley choreographed dance/swim routine featuring a plethora of other swim dancers all wearing completely impractical outfits.


I reckon this moment looks like she's sitting peacefully in the middle of space and all these beautiful stars are raining down on her - didn't that happen in The Fountain at some stage, too?

Absolutely gorgeous.

Cinema of the Absurd: The Black Dahlia

THE BLACK DAHLIA (2006, dir. Brian De Palma)


It’s been over a week now since I saw Brian De Palma’s The Black Dahlia and, as others have mentioned, it’s a very confounding picture. It’s not the type of movie you just sit down and whip up a few hundred or so words about off the cuff. It’s an incredibly strange creature of a film, if you can even call it a film. I mean, it has all the traits of a film – actors, sets, costumes, dialogue, etc – but I can’t possibly think of any movie it even slightly resembles. There are similarities between it and many others, but The Black Dahlia is a truly one-of-a-kind experience. It’s not a movie you should sit down to watch if you want coherence, acting or a clear resolution. No. It’s the sort of film you sit down to watch and just let it wash over you. Just dive head first into the wacky tobacky bong water that De Palma was clearly drinking on the set.

The Black Dahlia is a movie at seemingly complete odds with itself. Consider. On one hand it is so professionally tailored, yet nobody and nothing quite fits. The lead roles are all filled by hapless wolf in sheeps clothing actors yet the fringes are filled with electric, vibrant performances. De Palma has crafted many astonishing memorable sequences yet they seem more like jigsaw pieces just kind of floating around being placed anywhere at whim without any thought as to if they fit or not. The movie plays itself as the mystery surrounded the Black Dahlia herself yet at some times it feels as if De Palma (and screenwriter Josh Friedman, it must be noted) loses interest and just films whatever he wants cause the cast showed up to the set. On one hand the central mystery is such a mindbogglingly confusing maze, yet when it comes down to the murderer’s reveal it’s as if they just played eeny-meeny-miny-mo with the cast.


This movie really has no idea where it’s going until it realises the 2 hour mark is approaching and they have to end. Characters disappear because… well, we don’t know. They get throwaway lines alluding to a drug addictions or a deep dark secrets or such and such yet nothing is made from it. Scenes take place that lead nowhere. De Palma just gets bored half way through a scene and cuts to something else that he thought looked pretty.

This is truly inept filmmaking. But, ya know what, it’s totally fascinating. I dare a hardcore cinephile to sit down and watch this movie and not find something positively riveting. Sure, when all is said and done, the movie is a wreck, but what a wreck. It’s hilarious. Watch as actors like Scarlett Johansson, Hilary Swank, Josh Hartnett and Aaron Eckhart play around in Mummy and Daddy’s clothes (even Eckhart, approaching 40 seems out of place). Swank puts on a curiously shapeshifting accent and wig. Johansson amps the cleavage up to 100 but drowns in all her cashmire and fur. The camp drag queen appearance skyrockets with it. Hartnett drowns in said accents, cleavage and cashmire. And Eckhart? Well… he plays his character as if he’s just been to a 1940s sleuth movie marathon and he decided to impersonate the lead actors to the nth degree.

People will compare it to LA Confidential and that movie was positively in the era. The Black Dahlia is sort of just transported into the area and the cast seem to be doing whatever they can to fit in. It’s sorta hilarious.


But as I’ve said, next to all the bad, there is fascinating bizarre stuff. Fiona Shaw plays a character that is so unhinged that it’s amazing she even exists in his movie, or any movie at all for that matter. If I thought The Black Dahlia was unlike any film I’ve ever seen before, then Shaw’s performance (as Swank’s slightly perculiar mother) is an even deeper form of crazy. She only appears in two scenes, but when she’s there (from the very first shot of her) the film jumps several tracks and becomes the deranged David Lynch noir that is just begging to get out throughout – think of Grace Zabriskie in Twin Peaks and you get a similar idea. Shaw’s performance is the very definition of a Supporting role. She takes the films by the horns and does what the actual leads should be doing. She makes everyone else around her look better simply by being in her presence. It also helps that it’s probably the funniest performance of the year too (funnier than Cohen, Jacobson, etc). It’s essentially what Gina Gershon did in Showgirls, but with less tit flashing.

Mia Kirshner gives good work too as the Black Dahlia herself seen in flashbacks as sad sorry little creature. She reminded me of Laura Palmer (again, from Twin Peaks) in that she new she was heading down a rabbit hole she couldn’t get out of. Rose McGowen shows up briefly to show us why she should be the go-to-gal for big-breasted witty characters. kd lang even shows up to sing an exotic version of Cole Porter’s “Love For Sale” surrounded by erotic female dancers (a funny touch, I thought.)


And there’s no denying that the film is, essentially, flawless when it comes to things such as art direction, costume design, cinematography and music. And all that just continues to fascinate. When you’re not staring at the beautiful scenery you’re holding back tears of laughter from the stupendous acting and dialogue. When you’re not devouring the many, many, many stunning and memorable individual sequences (I haven’t even discussed them! I could talk for hours…) you’re getting whiplash from wondering how the previous scene lead to the next.

Movies like The Black Dahlia are rare. A movie so hopelessly bad, yet it is because it’s very badness that makes it so fascinating. It would’ve been easy to make a mediocre movie, but everybody is trying to infinity and beyond that I am reminded of that old quote: “Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars.”



On the Absurdity Scale from 1-5, I rate The Black Dahlia a 4
It's stupendously absurd!
For a proper grade? B+ (or C- if you don’t have a sense of humour)