Friday Five: Classic Films I 'Should' Have Watched

You know those films that you always feel you should  have watched, but you just haven't got round to it yet? Well, over the last week (we're in lockdown), I've been trying to catch up with some.

5 Classic Films I 'Should' Have Already Seen:

1. The Exorcist (1973 Horror/ Supernatural) - Lots of male doctors lecturing a woman about how to run her life and deal with her daughter; the keepers of the knowledge deciding females they can't understand must be hysterical... It might be almost 50 years old, but some aspects still resonate. I believe good horror stories are never 'just' about horror; they connect with our deepest fears, ignorance and insecurities to explore something psychological. I feel this films does that, and Ellen Burstyn is spectacular. In conclusion: worth watching as a classic of the genre (I know all the best lines anyway), but probably not scary to a modern audience.

2. The Godfather (1972 Crime/ Drama) - Men use their violence and strength to secure nepotistic deals and gain yet more wealth and power. How quaint. Again, all the best lines are familiar - offers you can't refuse; sleeping with the fishes etc. - the score is sumptuous, and Marlon Brando, Al Pacino and James Caan give brilliant performances. I understand that this film re-calibrated the notion of seeing gangsters as a response to a corrupt society and made them into good guys, but it really is all about the guys, isn't it - and the toxic masculinity and lack of female representation may have set the women's movement back as far as it advanced the film genre.

3. Sunset Boulevard (1950 Noir/ Drama) - Mavellous fun; full of dramatic tension, stunning design and black comedy, with a seminal central performance from Gloria Swanson as a previous silent screen star in a world of talking pictures. "There's nothing tragic about being 50. Not unless you're trying to be 25."

4. Battleship Potemkin (1926 Drama/ Silent) - I love me a good bit of revolutionary propaganda and I have particular views on borscht, so I thought I was ready for this. I wan't - it is outstanding! Those montages sequences and individual close-ups in the middle of mayhem are utterly groundbreaking, and the stirring score is thrilling. I appreciate the excellent moustache detail and I now understand the The Untouchables reference. 

5. Bonnie & Clyde (1967 Drama/ Crime) - Obviously the inspiration for The Dukes of Hazzard with a comedy-crime-committing duo who claim 'we rob banks' although there is nothing to rob because the people are so poor they've got nothing to save. I understand that life may be dull, but killing people is not the answer (although I agree with Ivan Moss's verdict on tattoos). Faye Dunaway has some fabulous outfits, Gene Wilder's screen debut is a highlight, and whatever charm and charisma Warren Beatty has (and with his reported womanising he must have some) it can only be off-screen rather than on. 

Innermost thoughts: Someone Like Me

Someone Like Me by M.R. Carey

Orbit

Pp. 500

In many ways this novel by M.R. Carey reminds me of those by Stephen King. It is rooted in reality with a strong dose of pop culture. The relationships seem true and sympathetic, with natural dialogue and some elements of humour. The concept of split personalities, or multiple characters in different dimensions, is a good one, and the supernatural elements creep in subtly. It would make a great film, with strong visuals and spooky scenes, but the ending is ultimately unsatisfactory and leaves the reader (or potential viewer) wondering how on earth they are ever going to get away with telling that story to the police.

 

It begins with a sadly familiar tale of domestic violence, as Liz Kendall is being strangled by her ex-husband, Marc. It appears that has another character inside her, Beth, who comes out after years of abuse to fight back. The abuse is documented as part of an on-going case: “That was a lot less exciting and TV-movie-forensic than it sounded.” The author is aware that this is commonplace and that we have seen it all before in modern culture, so he has to make it about more than ‘just’ domestic violence.

We sympathise with Liz; she is poor with two kids to raise (Zac and Molly), an abusive ex-husband and a terrible medical insurance policy. When she is first ousted by Beth, there may be sympathy for her too, as Beth has been repeatedly killed by Marc in different times and other realms. We feel for her absence and all the things she has missed, as she hugs Molly, “It was the first human contact Beth had experienced in what felt like a hundred years that wasn’t born out of violent rage.” But Beth will then use anything to survive, even at the expense of the children, and we begin to wonder about her motives.

Meanwhile, Zac’s schoolmate, Fran, is also one of these people who is aware of the multiple options of things happening in different futures or pasts, and she recognises the duality of Zac’s mum, Liz/Beth. When she was a child, Fran was abducted and taken to the Perry Friendly Motel by a man (Bruno Picota) who saw two personalities in her and tried to kill one. Throughout the trial that led to his incarceration in an asylum, he became known as the Shadowman because he constantly referred to shadows that move independently of their host or ‘skadegamutc’ from Native American culture. He describes this (in a transcript that Fran and Zac conveniently locate) as “the ghost of a witch. A ghost, but it’s got magic. An evil spirit. And you can’t ever see where it might have come from. You just see that it’s there.”

Skadegamutc or forest witch

Fran also has an alter-ego who is a cartoon fox with a sword and armour, Lady Jinx from Knights of the Woodland Table. Fran comes to understand that Picota was obsessed with split personalities or detached characters, who have been separated from the original. He thought he had killed one of hers. Did he?

As in Fellside, M.R. Carey takes us to a world of psychologists and criminals as he explores the dark places of the mind. Is this what happens to the brain when it tries to shield the body from pain, or to remove the memories of experiences that are too traumatic to confront? Are these supernatural elements based on self-delusion, or is medication involved? There is enough ambiguity to interest the reader as the novel crosses from the solid world we know to the less certain one we fear.

Like Stephen King, Carey incorporates Native American elements, pop culture references, ‘innocent’ children involved in violent and spooky situations, cinematic and comic book devices (he used to write comics for DC including Lucifer and Hellblazer), and a denouement at a creepy, deserted motel. The genre-crossing thriller ghost story is domestic in scope with science-fiction undertones, but there are sufficient similar themes to those found in Fellside, which I read earlier this year, that I don’t think I need to read any more of Carey’s novels for a while.