Movie Monday: Justice League of America

Sure, WB announced there's going to be a Justice League of America movie in 2018, but did you know there already was a live-action JLA movie, from 1997?

Yes, back during the Clinton Era, CBS commissioned a live-action Justice League of America pilot movie, with the hopes of it becoming a series. And as any comic fan knows, that never happened. Maybe we can figure out why:

Justice League of America opens with a talking head segment (a recurring motif throughout the show) featuring Meteorologist Tori Olafsdotter (Kim Oja) discussing how she ended up being part of this unusual bunch of people. We the city of New Metro get attacked by a tornado, which is the work of a super-powered terrorist named The Weather Man (Miguel Ferrer), who is actually Tori's boss.

The citizens of New Metro are saved by the members of the Justice League, which include Fire, Green Lantern, Flash, and The Atom (respectively, Michelle Hurd, Matthew Settle, John Kassir, and Kenny Johnston):

Tori finds a secret room at work, and discovers some sort of strange device. She spills water on it, which causes it to malfunction and strike her with blue electricity. That night she discovers her touch turns everything to ice, including a lake in an attempt to save a drowning man.

The JLA see this, and kidnap Tori(!), believing she is the Weather Man. But after being convinced of her innocence, they let her go. Tori thinks the whole thing was a bad dream.

As the Weather Man/Tori plot unfolds, we are given background to all the JLAers, who each struggle with Friends-like problems: B.B. DaCosta (Fire) is a struggling actress, Guy Gardner is having troubles with his girlfriend, Barry Allen looks for work, any work, and Ray Palmer realizes he is crushing on Tori. As I mentioned before, amid all this are scenes of the heroes talking to the camera, both by themselves and in a group:

Tori learns that her boss is the Weather Man, and takes that info to the JLA. They bring her to their secret underwater base, and introduce her to their commander, none other than the Martian Manhunter (David Ogden Stiers--yes, Major Winchester from M*A*S*H):

The JLA tries to train Tori how to use her powers more effectively, and after The Weather Man attacks again, it is Tori who saves the day by turning a tidal wave into ice. Later, Tori is asked by the heroes to join the team, using the code name Ice. She agrees, and takes the solemn vow to fight for justice:

As The Weather Man plots his escape from prison, Tori suits up and now the Justice League of America is more powerful than it's ever been, ready to fight fo truth and justice:

...off to series!

Well, no. Of course, CBS saw this and flatly rejected it. Justice League of America was shelved, never to be to be aired in the United States. The cast, mostly unknowns, all went on to careers of various levels of success. John Kassir was the voice of The Crypt Keeper on Tales From The Crypt, so both he and Stiers had careers in full swing when this pilot came along, and they kept right on going after JLA died a quick death.

There are a lot of reviews out there of this thing, and almost all of them are overwhelmingly negative: the effects are bargain-basement, the jokes are weak (one, involving the Atom, is horrendous), the subplots come straight from Friends and a dozen other sitcoms, and of course the premise isn't really Justice League at all: with Manhunter acting as their behind-the-scenes mentor, this is really more akin to X-Men than any version of the Justice League I've read.

And while all of those criticisms are essentially correct, I find I just can't hate this thing the way other people do. I feel like Justice League of America is in there trying, and its heart is in the right place, but it's simultaneously too ambitious and too derivative to really work. Trying to pull off five different sets of super powers on a late-90s TV budget must have been nearly impossible, and of course the costumes (especially the Atom's Linebacker-esque duds) are awful. But I liked the chemistry the actors had with one another, and, H'ronmeer help me, I actually dug just seeing a live-action Martian Manhunter! Because of his appearance, he's always going to be a longshot for live-action, and it took guts to try and pull it off here. Stiers, despite his distinctly non-superhero physique, has the quiet gravity to play the very serious Manhunter, and it would have been interesting if the show had gone on to see if they would ever let him leave the underwater HQ.

Is Justice League of America worth tracking down? It's available on bootleg DVDs at every comic con, as well as being online, so it doesn't take much. After a decade of multi-billion-dollar comic book franchises, there really isn't much here worth discovering, since it's all been done much better in the movies and on TV. But seen in its proper context, I think Justice League of America still has some charms that make it a cut above all the other failed superhero pilots that are collecting dust on network shelves.

Movie Monday: Elvis: The Movie

Before Escape From New York, before The Thing, before Big Trouble in Little China, there was...Elvis The Movie?

Yes, Elvis: The Movie, a fairly obscure title in the filmography of John Carpenter, it was the director's first project after Halloween, and his first collaboration with star Kurt Russell. Apparently the producers of this TV mini-series assumed that since Carpenter famously did the score for Halloween, he must know a lot about music. Ergo, let him direct a bio-pic of one of the most famous people of the 20th Century, a mere two years after he died so prematurely. Apparently no one was more surprised than Carpenter (he mentions getting the gig on the audio commentary to The Thing), believing he was not that appropriate a choice. He took the job anyway.

Elvis: The Movie opens in the early 1970s, featuring the King getting ready for yet another gig, surrounded by his retinue of buddies and body guards. As massively successful as any one could be at their chosen profession, Elvis is nonetheless not a happy man:

After a tense meeting with his wife Priscilla (Season Hubley, Russell's future real-life wife), Elvis does one of the things he is still most famous for: shooting out his hotel TV. The film then jumps back to the 1940s, and follows Elvis as a kid who from the beginning has a passion and knack for music. As the opening scene hints, Elvis: The Movie follows a rigidly predictable bio-pic formula: all the major moments that even the most cursory Elvis fan knows about: the early recordings with Sam Phillips, Elvis' close relationship with his devoted mother (Shelley Winters), his meeting with the Col. Tom Parker (Pat Hingle), his ascension to stardom, his marriage to Priscilla, his movie career, etc. It's all here:

Russell makes a pretty good Elvis, and that had to be a tough job: Elvis: The Movie was shot less than two years after the King died, and was filmed with cooperation of the Presley estate. So there aren't a whole lot of dark corners for the role (and the film) to venture into. There are brief moments where we see the man desperately unhappy, and he flies off the handle at Priscilla and his famous crew of hangers-on. But for the most part, Elvis is shown pretty much exactly how you'd expect his estate would want him to be shown: as a legend. Heck, even after three hours, the movie still ends in 1971, long before the King grew obese and became (mostly) a parody of himself, a walking, lumbering example of showbiz excess.

You'd be hard pressed to find any of John Carpenter's signature filmmaking touches here; it almost seems like he took this job to show people that he could do more than gritty genre pictures where people got killed left and right. It's a predictable movie, sitting squat in the middle of an era where it seemed like the man couldn't make a predictable movie to save his life (seriously; I don't think there are many directors who can match Carpenter's run of movies from around 1976 until 1986 or so).


There was, however, one scene in Elvis: The Movie that really stood out to me, and seemed like a hint of the kind of direction the film could have gone: Elvis records a version of "Suspicious Minds" (one of my favorite songs of his) with his band in his living room, with the band and back-up singer sitting on couches and whatnot:

 

Having to fit such an extraordinary life in just three hours, Elvis: The Movie tends to just fly from one Big Moment to the next, but here Carpenter lets the whole recording session play out, with no cutaways, and the sense of energy is palpable. It's the closest the movie comes to conveying just how good Elvis was, what made him so special.

Late in his recording career, Elvis insisted on cutting songs live with his entire band, all at once. That's not conducive to grinding out product like record companies want, but a lot of great musicians have insisted on doing it this way, feeling it produces the best results (an Elvis disciple if there ever was one, Bob Dylan, has almost insisted on this approach his entire career). When I read that in a book about Elvis, I got the sense that he knew he had gotten far away from his roots, and wanted to retain some sense of artistic control, to hell with Col. or RCA. This scene, on purpose or not, really puts that across in a thrilling way. I could have watched a whole lot more of this, and less of Elvis and his Momma, or Elvis arguing with Priscilla.

Elvis: The Movie is available on DVD, but I don't think anyone outside of die-hard Elvis fans bother with it; it doesn't feel like a John Carpenter movie and of course Russell went on to a huge career as a movie star. But of course any fan of their film collaborations (me!) is happy they did this, because without it we might never have gotten their later, enduring body of work.

Movie Monday: Santa Sangre

"Forget everything you have ever seen."

That's the tagline for Alejandro Jodorowksy's 1989 horror/thriller Santa Sangre and, for once, it's a fairly accurate assessment; it truly is unlike any move I have ever seen before.

As of just a few weeks ago, I was only vaguely familiar with Jodorowsky. I knew he directed the cult film El Topo, and that he was a sort of Terry Gilliam-esque mad genius. I had plans to see the documentary Jodorowsky's Dune, about his (ultimately) failed attempt to make a film of Frank Hebert's sci-fi novel. And while I didn't feel like I had to have a lot of knowledge about the guy beforehand, I thought why not and get a better understanding of his filmography? So here we are with Santa Sangre.

Describing the plot of Santa Sangre is almost useless in conveying the film; it'd be like telling someone about the dream you just had and expecting them to understand it ("His face was made of pudding; didn't I mention that?"). But here's a brief outline: it starts off in some sort of hospital or mental institution, with a naked man (with a phoenix tattoo on his chest) climbed atop a giant tree branch.

The film then flashes back to the man as a boy: his name is Fenix (played by Jodorowsky's son Adan), and he works as a child magician working at a circus run by his lumbering, imposing father Orgo, who has a knife-throwing act.

His mother Concha is also a performer, as is a tattooed lady who serves as the target for Orgo's knives. There's also the tattooed lady's daughter Alma, who is deaf and mute but seems to fancy Fenix (who feels the same way):

Orgo and the Tattooed Lady have a thing going on, and they don't even really bother to hide it: during an exhibition, the Tattooed Lady looks positively orgasmic as the metal shafts come within an inch of her body. Concha sees all this, and is understandably upset.

 

Concha is no one to be messed with: she is also the head of a religious cult who worships a young girl who was raped and had her arms cut off (hence the arm symbols, like seen above). Their church is about to be demolished, and Concha and her flock make one last attempt to save it from the wrecking ball.

Concha learns of her husband's affair, but it hypnotized by Orgo into forgetting about it. Later, the circus elephant dies, and a massive funeral is held, ending with a huge casket being dumped off a cliff, where it smashes to bits. The local townsfolk--who just a moment ago were mourning the elephant--swarm over the carcass, ripping it to pieces and handing it out as food. Fenix, who cared for the elephant, watches all this in tears. It's here that Orgo gives his son the phoenix tattoo, with a knife dipped in red paint. Orgo tells his son this will make him a man.

Later, Concha catches Orgo and the Tattooed Lady having sex, and pours acid on her husband's genitals(!). Orgo cuts his wife's arms off, and then kills himself in the street, all in front of their son.

Flash forward, and Fenix is grown up (now played by Jodorowsky's other son Axel) and, after escaping from the mental hospital, takes up with his mother and "becomes" her arms as part of a grotesque act. More than an act, various women start getting killed, including the Tattooed Lady, now forced into a life of prostitution.

There's more, a lot more: in fact, I can't remember a film that crammed more ideas and scenes and moods in a mere two hours. Heck, there's even a scene where Fenix imagines himself as the Invisible Man, and Jodorowsky shows a fanboy's love of those old Universal horror films, replicating their look almost to the tee, except in color:

Despite all the grotesque characters, bloody violence, and human misery on display, Santa Sangre at the end snaps out of its dreamlike state to give the whole story a satisfying, even strangely upbeat, ending.

While I have described (some of) Santa Sangre's plot, I'm really not doing justice to the film: right from the beginning, you are swept up in this strange world that seems completely unreal but still rooted in reality. And despite all the hideous behavior and violence, Jodorowsky's compositions are so beautiful that you can't look away. I will fully admit, there were times when I had absolutely no idea what was going on, but I was never frustrated or bored.

I said up top that it's almost impossible to accurately describe your dream to someone, and ends up (usually) boring the person hearing it because they only get the words, not the music. In Jodorowsky's Dune, the man himself talks about how useless it is to let others try and make changes in your film to make it more palatable, more commercial. Describing these people, Jodorowsky doesn't come off so much as mad as confused: why would you let anyone meddle with your dream?

And that's what Santa Sangre feels like: a nightmarish dream, a children's book written by and for adults. It's not for everyone, but if you're willing to turn yourself over to the man and his mad visions, Jodorowsky will take you on a amazing tour of the kinds of dreams he has.



Random Thought: A number of Bob Dylan songs have been floated as potential ideas for full-length movies, but (I think) none have ever come to fruition. I can't be the first person to think of this, but if anyone ever wanted to make a movie of Dylan's phantasmagoric 1965 opus "Desolation Row", I think I know a guy.

Movie Monday: The Mafu Cage

I guarantee there is no way you are prepared for...The Mafu Cage. (**Warning: Big-Time Spoilers Ahead**)

On Saturday, I attended the annual ExFest movie marathon put on by the fine (if sick) folks at Exhumed Films, an outfit that has been been screening horror, sci-fi, and other disreputable genre flicks since the late 1990s. In particular, the ExFest is a 12-hour collection of films that are not announced beforehand; you don't know what you're seeing until the lights go down. It's always a lot of fun, and occasionally the Exhumed guys will show me something that I am completely unfamiliar with. Which brings us to The Mafu Cage.

Released in 1978, The Mafu Cage stars Lee Grant and Carol Kane as sisters who, from the get-go, clearly have a very, very odd relationship. Grant plays Ellen, an astronomer working at the Griffith Observatory, alongside a guy named David (James Olson) who is very interested in being more than co-workers with Ellen.

Ellen lives in a secluded house, covered in tress and plants, with her sister Cissy (Kane) who seems to exist in a fantasy world that doesn't go outside the confines of their Grey Gardens-esque estate. Inside, the walls are covered with African art and other bric-a-brac, and a shrine to their dead father, who raised them as children in Africa.

One of the odder features of this house is a full-on cage that both Ellen and Cissy seem to regard the way you or I would the kitchen or dining room:

Cissy keeps talking about a "mafu", and how the previous mafu is gone, and she needs a new one. It's clear that Ellen, while clearly being the only sane one in this relationship, is also a dangerous enabler. She tries to talk Cissy out of getting a new mafu, but ultimately gives in.

The new mafu--in this case a orangutan--comes via an old family friend named Zom (Will Geer), who dresses like Frank Buck and seems to deal in wild animals via some sort of Black Market. Ellen and Cissy take in the orangutan, which they chain to the wall and keep in the cage. It's not clear what they're going to do with this new Mafu now that they have it, for Cissy seems to spend most of her time sitting by the cage sketching it.

Eventually this new orangutan upsets Cissy, and she beats it to death with a chain. Ellen, who to this point has been telling herself that the previous mafu deaths have been "accidents", finally realizes this has all gone too far and tells Cissy that this is the end. Cissy threatens to "assassinate" herself, and Ellen once again starts to soften. We see that this has been their relationship ever since their father died, and that Ellen in her own way is just as sick as her sister (this is only underscored when it becomes abundantly clear that they engage in a sexual relationship as well).

Ellen's co-worker David tries harder to get her interested in a relationship and she, perhaps finally tiring of the life she's been living, starts to reciprocate. It seems that maybe there's a way out of this sick relationship until Ellen is forced to go away for a work trip for a few days, leaving Cissy home alone. She assures her sister she won't answer the door or phone, but trouble walks in the door when David shows up and meets Cissy for the firs time.

To this point, I found The Mafu Cage to be a unique (to say the least) drama/thriller, if a little frustrating because it so stubbornly refused to answer any of the many questions it was bringing up. But it did have some sort of internal logic, as off-kilter as it was. But when David shows up, he for some ungodly reason doesn't turn on his heels and run the other direction, as would most people if they were greeted with this:

Instead, he goes inside with Cissy, has a glass of wine with her, and ignores all the warning signs that she is bat-sh*t nuts. He then wanders into the cage, allows himself to be chained to the wall, and watches in bemusement as Cissy slams the cell door and locks it.

It's here, at least, that David wakes the hell up, realizing the trouble he's in. He tries to scream for help when he hears a visitor (another visit from Zom), to no avail. He refuses to eat, and tries to grab Cissy when she gets close. As he starts to slowly die from malnutrition, Cissy paints herself in African make-up and performs bizarre rituals that mean something only to her:

She eventually murders David, burying his body in the backyard (alongside all the other Mafus, apparently). Ellen comes home, and wonders why David's car is parked down the road. Cissy pleads ignorance, but doesn't even bother to hide the pencil drawing she did of David in the cage, in a scene not meant to be funny I think but couldn't help elicit laughs, because the audience can't help but wonder how long is it gonna take Ellen to wake the hell up?

All hell breaks loose--sort of, since this movie (directed relative newcomer Karen Arthur) continues to resist much in the way of action or thrills. Cissy chains Ellen up, which finally gets Ellen to realize where all this is headed. She, too, refuses to eat, and eventually starves to death. After dragging the body off, Cissy chains herself in the Mafu Cage, sentencing herself to a similar, slow, agonizing death:

 

*Whew!* As I said, the guys at Exhumed Films almost always manage to surprise me when I go see one of their shows, but this one really came out left field. While I can't come close to having the depth of movie knowledge they do, I'm surprised when they're able to find a movie put out by a major studio, featuring name actors--that I've never even heard of. After an afternoon made up of smaller movies featuring (mostly) no-name casts, seeing Lee Grant, Carol Kane, and Will Geer's names come up made think oh, we're going to see something a little more mainstream here. Wrong!

I can confidently say that The Mafu Cage is the strangest, most bugf*ck movie I have ever seen put out by a major studio with the aforementioned name stars. In the beginning we're following Ellen, and while her life is of course very, very odd, there's some sense of a character we can relate to. But about halfway through it becomes Kane's show, and we become completely unmoored, just as she is. As I watched Kane screech, call people dipshits (the only curse word she knows), beat a orangutan today, and take baths in weird fluids, I couldn't help but think what a career-killer this movie could have been. Not that it's a bad performance, exactly, it's just that, as directed by Arthur, she's so clearly completely crazy almost from the first scene that I found her almost unbearable to watch--which is tough since, as I said, the movie is pretty much all her through the final half. If The Mafu Cage had been a bigger hit, I could see how it might have really done Kane in as an actress. But of course, there was no chance it was going to be a hit, because it's such a damn odd movie. So Kane got the chance to do Taxi, and the rest was history. Luckily for her.

Upon reflection, I appreciate the fact that all the cliched genre trappings of a thriller weren't grafted onto The Mafu Cage, because it clearly has more on its mind than that. That said, I kept waiting for something to kinda happen, as the relationship between the two sisters got worse: but instead director Arthur just lets the air slowly leak out of the balloon, and opposed to popping it. After such a build-up, watching our two main characters die of malnutrition seems just too quiet, almost peaceful.

Karen Arthur directed one film before this, 1975's Legacy, which IMDB describes thusly: "A rich woman deteriorates mentally." So she clearly had themes she wanted to explore in her work. She must have gone to see Grey Gardens a lot in the build-up to making The Mafu Cage.