criterion collection

#1198 – Mean Streets

/ Chase Clark / Leave a comment

I recently watched this film again, also through the Criterion Channel, after not having seen it since college. I remember when I watched it that first time and thinking, “This movie looks cheap. New York City looks so grimy, and the camera is all over the place.” At that time, I naively considered these flaws of the filmmakers, and enough to make me dismiss the film as a whole. Obviously, I have since changed my tune. Those things still remain, but some are due to budgetary restrictions and therefore cannot affect the merit of the movie as a whole, and some are stylistic choices. Most Scorsese gangster movies have a crisp look to them. NYC isn’t the problem, it’s the people who are grimy. Mean Streets informs us that it’s both, and that, in part, was the intention.

Charlie (Harvey Keitel) is a good boy – he works for his mafia-connected uncle, and therefore has to do some unsavory things, but he’s very concerned with his sense of morality and the salvation of his immortal soul. So concerned that, every time he sees fire, he tries to touch it in hopes he can withstand the heat. Anyone who has ever touched a hot stove knows that doesn’t go well for him. Since the Catholic Church will not absolve him of his sins without him actually confessing them, he attempts to earn his salvation another way.

Enter Johnny Boy, played by a nearly brand-new Robert De Niro. Johnny Boy is the cousin of Charlie’s epileptic girlfriend, Teresa, but more importantly, he’s a ne’er-do-well on the path to eternal damnation. Charlie sees Johnny Boy as his ticket to Heaven. If he can get Johnny to walk the straight and narrow, there’s no way Saint Peter would turn him away. The only problem is that the more Charlie interferes with Johnny Boy’s erratic way of living, the worse it gets. Johnny Boy feels coddled. Some people just don’t want to be saved. His antics not only set his life on a downward spiral, but he begins taking everyone else down with him – particularly Charlie. It all comes to a head in a drive-by shooting in those mean streets. Johnny Boy, Teresa and Charlie are all hurt, but Johnny Boy walks away into an alley where the red, flashing lights of a police car hint at his final destination, and Charlie walks out into the street, baptized in the waters of a broken fire hydrant. Only Teresa is unable to get out on her own, more damaged than the others, requiring the EMTs that get to the scene first to help ease her out of the car. Teresa and Charlie will survive, but while he kneels in the street, and images of the sinful life he is potentially leaving passes before his eyes, Charlie doesn’t even acknowledge the condition Teresa is in. And in that moment, that final scene, we understand how selfish Charlie’s quest to earn his own salvation truly is.

As I said before, my views on this film have changed significantly. Where as once I held Mean Streets with slight disdain, even considering it lower-tier Scorsese, I have now nearly flipped that completely. Mean Streets isn’t just a great film, it’s also pure Scorsese, through and through. It’s full of Catholic guilt, religious imagery (a chat between Charlie and Johnny Boy in a graveyard, where Johnny lays on a grave and Charlie leans against a cross, is particularly excellent), an internal wrestle between saint and sinner, a killer 60s pop soundtrack (one of the first examples of a jukebox soundtrack; the infamous bar brawl scene is set to the Marvelettes’ “Please, Mr. Postman”), tracking shots (that same bar brawl), and a whole lot of New York City.

I read that Scorsese wrote the screenplay for this film (not something he does often) after a talk with actor/director John Cassavetes, where Cassavetes criticized his previous film, Boxcar Bertha, for being uninspired. His advice to a young Scorsese was to make films he’s passionate about. You can feel the passion in Mean Streets. I argue you will not find a film so near and dear to Scorsese’s heart again until 2019’s The Irishman. It’s reflective and thoughtful. It’s genuine. It’s a filmmaker in the middle of insecurity, discovering his voice and, somehow, confidently firing on all cylinders. Martin Scorsese’s third film is, dare I say, a masterpiece, and sits alongside Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, and GoodFellas in the discussion for his best.

#1186 – The Ranown Westerns

/ Chase Clark / Leave a comment

This collection of five films from the Criterion Collection showcases the bulk of collaborations between under-the-radar B-Western director, Budd Boetticher, and longtime Western hero, Randolph Scott. The films included are The Tall T, Decision at Sundown, Buchanan Rides Alone, Ride Lonesome, and Comanche Station. All five films feature Randolph Scott as the lone wanderer with his own moral code to live by, and relatable villains. We’ll take them one at a time.

The Tall T
This one is based on a story from Elmore Leonard, the writer of many classic Western tales, such as 3:10 to Yuma, Valdez is Coming, and Last Stand at Sable River. Scott plays Pat Brennan, a rancher with a “place of his own” that he hopes to build up into something great. We see him wandering through the opening credits and stopping at a way station to begin our story. The place is operated by a man and his little boy, and Brennan promises to bring the little boy back some candy when he returns from visiting the nearby town. Unfortunately, after leaving the town, Brennan loses his horse and is forced to hop on a stagecoach with the daughter of a rich mining baron and her new husband. The coach stops at the way station where three men, Frank Usher, Billy Jack, and the unfortunately-named, Chink, have taken over and murdered the man and his boy. Richard Boone plays Frank Usher, and while his young henchman are a little too trigger happy, Usher has a code of ethics similar to Brennan, only he’s willing to let innocents die to get what he wants. Through their conversations, they both realize that, in another life, they might have been friends.

Usher is looking for a big payout so he can live the life he wants, and he seems to have stumbled into it when the newlywed husband turns out to be a craven, self-serving piece of trash. He admits his wife’s father is rich and is willing to go and deliver a ransom note to the baron in exchange for his own freedom. Once the plan is set in motion, and the husband is no longer needed, he gets a bullet in the back, courtesy of Frank Usher. The justification being that the husband was no-good for abandoning his wife, and at that point, it’s hard for the audience to disagree.

The film has a tight runtime of 78 minutes, and Burt Kennedy’s script is an economic tension-builder that matches the best of them and shows us what makes the post-World War II Westerns such a joy to watch.

Decision At Sundown
The second film in this set takes the tropes of these Westerns and turns them on their head. Scott, this time, plays Bart Allison, a man who rides into the town of Sundown with one thing on his mind: vengeance. He’s after the man he blames for his wife’s suicide, Tate Kimbrough, and he’s not leaving until he kills him. Lucky for Allison, Kimbrough has the entire town of Sundown in a vice grip, and they aren’t too happy with the way he’s running things.

Once Allison arrives in town, the movie jumps right into the action. Allison stops Kimbrough’s wedding and a shootout ensues. The rest of the movie is a true Western standoff – the town is completely quiet, all doors are shut, and the heroes and villains yell at each other from around the corners of buildings. However, in that time, we learn that Bart Allison is far from the hero we expect from Randolph Scott. He is fueled and blinded by his hatred. He refuses to believe his good friend, Sam, when he is told that his wife was not a good woman to begin with and never loved him. His code of ethics has been swapped for revenge, and revenge alone. And when even the sheriff of Sundown gets in his way, well, that’s just too bad for the sheriff.

Kimbrough is obviously not a good guy, so we’re happy at the thought of him getting his comeuppance, but it doesn’t happen. Kimbrough is allowed to escape as Allison deals with the loss of his friend, Sam, and the realization that what he said about his wife was true. In the end, multiple people are dead, Allison fails in his mission, and the town of Sundown is freed. The town, of course, is happy to celebrate, but for Allison, there is nothing to do but mourn his losses. He leaves Sundown, refusing their thanks, and alone once more.

Buchanan Rides Alone
In this film, Randolph Scott is Tom Buchanan, and you guessed, he rides into town alone. Agry is not a town you want to ride into and stay very long, even the townspeople say so. As soon as Buchanan passes the bridge from Mexico into Agry, he is greeted by a suspicious sheriff who aggressively gets Buchanan off his horse and patted down. Buchanan soon finds that Sheriff Lew Agry isn’t the only unfriendly soul in town, nor is he the only one the town is named after. Lew has two brothers, and while he is sinister, scheming one, his brother, Amos, is too dimwitted to do anything beyond run the hotel, and his other brother, Simon, is the most respected of the brothers and the town judge.

When Simon’s son, Roy, the town hothead and drunk, is shot and killed by Juan de la Vega, a Mexican who had a personal vendetta against Roy, Tom Buchanan gets roped into the town’s politics, and it’s up to him to get de la Vega out of trouble. The brothers Agry’s war amongst themselves sucks in the entire town, as well as the lives of Buchanan and de la Vega, presenting several twists and turns along the way. It all culminates in a nail-biting shootout involving hostages on both sides of the same bridge Buchanan crossed when he entered the town and a saddlebag with $50,000 smack dab in the middle.

Because of how this movie zig-zags throughout and the intense finale, Buchanan Rides Alone may be my favorite out of the Ranown films I’ve watched so far. This one clocks in at 80 minutes, so again, it’s short and sweet, tightly-paced, with several interesting, flawed characters to keep viewers invested. A great film to show those who are skeptical of the Western genre.

Ride Lonesome
Randolph Scott stars as Ben Brigade, a bounty hunter who is after more than just the money when he tracks down and captures wanted criminal, Billy John. In his attempt to get Billy to Santa Cruz, Brigade runs in with a couple of outlaws with their own motivations and a woman who is all alone in the harsh western country. Together, they have to outrun Indians and a band of outlaws (the leader of which is Billy’s brother, Frank), until Brigade’s true intentions are made known.

The film consists of many twists and turns, and the entire time, it’s hard to keep track of the alliances and loyalties between the characters. The film banks on misdirection. Even one of the outlaws, Sam Boone (Pernell Roberts), at the end of the film, claims to Brigade, “Ain’t it funny how a thing can seem one way and turn out another?” Brigade can’t help but agree. Neither can we. Even as the ending comes, and all loose ends are tied, and all the good guys have gotten what they wanted, the film still plays on this misdirection. It was a comedy in the classic sense, right? The happy ending? And then the final shot of the film happens, and you realize what a truly cold revenge story this was.

Burt Kennedy’s script sense shines once again, as the characters are mostly fleshed out, except for the villain, Frank. Even though he’s played by the great Lee Van Cleef, he remains forgettable. The woman and Native American characters are treated the same, but that’s at least a bit more common of the genre. Ride Lonesome is certainly not the best film in this collection, but it is an entertaining one, and probably carries a lot more rewatch value than some of the others.

Comanche Station
In the final film between Scott and Boetticher, Scott plays Jefferson Cody, another man alone on his own personal mission. He rescues a woman from a tribe of Comanches, and rides off with her only to be waylaid by a trio of outlaws – the evil Ben, the scheming Frank, and the dimwitted Dobie. They all ride together for a time, and during that time, Ben and Frank come up with separate plans for how to make off with the woman and a $5000 reward for her safe return. Dobie, of course, follows along but doesn’t come up with any plans of his own or really approve of Frank or Ben’s methods. Cody, meanwhile, claims to know nothing about the reward; he is rescuing the woman, Nancy Lowe, for his own reasons.

Similar themes run rampant in Comanche Station as does through the others in this collection – loyalty, personal honor, the fine line between hero and villain, and it’s chockfull of a few twists and turns along the way. Why is Cody risking his life for Nancy without a thought of the financial reward? Can Nancy believe him when he claims to have no prior knowledge of the reward? What secret is Nancy hiding herself? Are any of the outlaws to be trusted? The finale is as much shocking as it is endearing.

This film and the previous one, Ride Lonesome, were both filmed in CinemaScope, so you get some beautiful wide landscapes of the open range, as well as that sunburned color look, so they look best in the 4K format on the biggest screen you can handle. Scott is often framed to reflect his larger-than-life hero image. The script is once again precise and tight, even if, at this point, it’s familiar territory.

Looking back on the whole collection, I don’t think I would marathon these films in one or two sittings. They benefit from being allowed to breathe. As I alluded to in the paragraph above, by the end of the series, it begins to feel repetitive. The same basic premises, with just enough of a twist to justify being their own releases, and Randolph Scott basically plays the same character in each one (except for Decision At Sundown).

Having said that, I still recommend this set or at least these movies to anyone who likes Westerns, early Revisionist cinema, or wants something to watch under an hour and a half. They look great, especially in Criterion’s new 4K release, and they’re an excellent cap to Randolph Scott’s impressive career. He retired after Comanche Station, only to come out of retirement for Sam Peckinpah’s Ride the High Country before retiring again, for good, but in my opinion, these films are the better closure for his lifetime of moviemaking.

You can purchase the set here from Amazon.

#1187 – One False Move

/ Chase Clark / Leave a comment

One False Move is the second film directed by Carl Franklin, and the first to feature themes of the Black experience front and center. The film was co-written by Billy Bob Thornton, who portrays Ray, a criminal who, along with his partner, Pluto, and girlfriend, Fantasia, murder six people in a single night in LA as they seek a hidden stash of cocaine and cash. Ray and Pluto are willing to murder innocent neighbors just to cover their tracks. Fantasia is seemingly along for the ride. From LA, they make their way down to Houston to sell the cocaine to an acquaintance of Pluto’s.

Two LA detectives are investigating the case, and discover their suspects might be heading toward Star City, Arkansas, so they reach out to the local authority, Dale Dixon (though everyone calls him “Hurricane”), played by Bill Paxton. Dixon might be crazy, but he’s a good ol’ country boy, and he’s thrilled at the opportunity to do what he considers “real” police work. Dixon’s giddiness at working with the big boys provides the first half of the film with some comic relief. One particular scene involves Dixon trying to interrogate a local chicken farmer who is getting too old and deaf to be properly interrogated. It’s a little slice of Southern charm amidst the blood and carnage.

Ray, Pluto and Fantasia stop at a convenience store in the middle of nowhere, where their likenesses can be seen via security footage and a highway patrolman can get a good look at them. The patrolman pulls them over on their way out, and as things get heated, Fantasia shoots him. No longer an innocent bystander, Fantasia panics and takes off to Star City on her own, hoping to reunite with her son while she still has time. Dixon also sets out on his own in an attempt to catch Fantasia, whose real name is Lila, before the detectives do. He finds her in a little house in the middle of nowhere, and there, it is revealed that Lila’s son, Byron, is Dixon’s from an affair some years ago. Lila, at the time of their affair, was young, only 17, and criticizes Dixon for taking advantage of a young, Black woman who can’t say no to a cop. I guess Dixon is not as good as, and more country than we previously expected.

The tension builds as a montage set to a lone bluesy harmonica plays. We see Ray and Pluto driving toward the house where Lila and Dixon are waiting; Dixon’s deputy, Byron, and the two LA detectives are hunting for Dixon and Lila; Dixon’s wife and daughter are at home, anticipating Dixon’s safe return. Then, the shooting happens, and it’s all over too quickly.

This film, despite some of the names attached, was originally intended to be released straight to video. However, through word of mouth, it developed enough of a following to come out in theaters in 1992. It didn’t fair well at the Box Office, but through home video, it has survived. It’s unfortunate that a film like this flew under the radar. It’s an excellent crime drama, keeping you on the edge of your seat the entire time, and drawing attention to the disparity between Whites and Blacks in a Southern Rural town. Paxton turns on a dime when it’s revealed that the happy-go-lucky police chief isn’t what we thought he was. Cynda Williams shines as both killer and victim. Michael Beach is terrifying as the ruthless Pluto, who keeps his weapon of choice, a knife, up his sleeve at all times. Billy Bob Thornton is a little unbelievable as the earring-wearing, cocaine-addicted Ray, but he got better as an actor as time went on.

One False Move is a near-perfect Neonoir. It’s character-focused, multilayered, the violence is intentional and necessary, and it moves with purpose. Franklin proves his talent that he later perfects with Devil in a Blue Dress, which I’m sure I will review at some point, and this film acts as Exhibit A as to why he is one of the underrated masters. Do yourself a favor and watch this movie.

You can purchase a copy <a href="http://<a target="_blank" href="https://www.amazon.com/One-False-Move-Criterion-Collection/dp/B0C2JJCJ2V/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=one+false+move+4k&qid=1692304343&sprefix=one+false+mov%252Caps%252C218&sr=8-1&_encoding=UTF8&tag=destinedforme-20&linkCode=ur2&linkId=83aca5a646d8f2f97b5271c206f0ad30&camp=1789&creative=9325">one false move 4khere from Amazon.