Otto; or, Up With Dead People (Bruce LaBruce, 2008)

Jey Crisfar in Otto; or, Up With Dead People

Cast: Jey Crisfar, Katharina Klewinghaus, Marcel Schlutt, Christophe Chemin, Guido Sommer, Gio Black Peter, Susanne Sachße, Stefan Kuschner. Screenplay: Bruce LaBruce. Cinematography: James Carman. Production design: Stefan Dickfeld. Film editing: Jörn Hartmann, Bruce LaBruce. Music: Mikael Karlsson. 

Otto (Jey Crisfar) may be a zombie. Or, depending on which side of the bifurcated title of Otto; or, Up With Dead People you fall, he may be a schizophrenic young man who gets lured into making a movie about zombies by a pretentious director called Medea Yarn (Katharina Klewinghaus). We first see Otto clawing his way out of his grave, but later we see the same scene under Medea's direction. Bruce LaBruce's movie is a scattershot satire, never salacious enough to be labeled porn, never coherent enough to be taken seriously as a commentary on capitalism, the environment, homophobia, AIDS, commercialism, or any of the other topics it glances at. Sometimes gross, sometimes sexy, sometimes sad, and never one thing long enough for the viewer to make up their mind about, as a collection of remarkable and sometimes disturbing moments it works often enough to credit LaBruce with fertile imagination, undisciplined as it may be. 

A Report on the Party and Guests (Jan Nemec, 1966)

Jan Klusák in A Report on the Party and Guests

Cast: Ivan Vyskocil, Jan Klusák, Jiri Nemec, Pavel Bosek, Karel Mares, Evald Schorm, Jana Pracharová, Zdena Skvorecká, Milon Novotny, Helena Pejsková, Dana Nemcová, Antonin Prazák, Josef Skvorecky. Screenplay: Ester Krumbochová, Jan Nemec. Cinematography: Jaromír Sofr. Production design: Oldrich Bosák. Film editing: Miroslav Hájek. Music: Karel Mares. 

If there's really such a thing as the Zeitgeist, Jan Nemec's A Report on the Party and Guests is a fine example of a film that captured it. Like other films of the 1960s, such as Luis Buñel's The Exterminating Angel (1962) and Stanley Kubrick's Dr. Strangelove (1964), Nemec's caught the social and political mood of the era, reducing it to an absurdity with the aim of puncturing complacency. Nemec gives us a gaggle of bourgeoises out for a picnic, exchanging platitudes and small talk until they're suddenly set upon by a group of strange men, who intimidate them and imprison them in an imaginary room. But then they're rescued by other men who turn out to be friends of the strangers and taken to an alfresco banquet, a combination wedding and birthday celebration. All goes well until their host discovers that one of the original group has left the festivity and determines that he must be found and returned. This giddy nonsense with dark overtones has some of the flavor of Lewis Carroll, a favorite of directors of the Czech New Wave. A Report on the Party and Guests doesn't transcend the era in which it was made as well as Buñuel and Kubrick's films do, so a contemporary viewer may miss the point of the satire, but the Soviet-imposed Czech government knew its arbitrariness and authoritarianism was being made fun of and quickly banned the film. 

Gerontophilia (Bruce LaBruce, 2013)

Walter Borden and Pier-Gabriel Lajoie in Gerontophilia

Cast: Pier-Gabriel Lajoie, Walter Borden, Katie Boland, Yardly Kavanagh, Marie-Hélène Thibault, Shawn Campbell, Jean-Alexandre Létourneau, Dana Wright, Brian D. Wright. Screenplay: Bruce LaBruce, Daniel Allen Cox. Cinematography: Nicolas Canniccioni. Art direction: Oliver Laberge. Film editing: Glenn Berman. Music: Ramachandra Borcar. 

Bruce LaBruce's Gerontophilia is a solid effort at exploring two topics: sexuality, which is common in movies, and getting old, which unfortunately isn't. Even rarer is combining the two in a story about the sexual attraction of young and old. Eighteen-year-old Lake (Pier-Gabriel Lajoie) has a girlfriend, but he's experiencing some unexpected sensations: Working as a lifeguard, he gets an erection when he performs mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on an elderly man. And when he goes to work as an aide in a Montreal nursing home, he finds himself attracted to the old men he bathes and empties bedpans for. He strikes up a friendship with one of the more alert patients, Melvyn Peabody (Walter Borden), a gay man who refers to himself as "an old queen." Lake secretly sketches his patients, including a nude Melvyn, with whom he plays strip poker. He helps Melvyn hide the tranquilizing meds he's supposed to take, and eventually engineers an escape for him. They hit the road, heading for the Pacific, which Melvyn wants to see again. The road movie formula becomes predictable from that point. Even LaBruce, never known for reticence, is aware that for many viewers the relationship between the two men contains a strong "ick factor." There are no explicit sex scenes, although once Lake disposes of a used condom. Borden gives a skilled performance as Melvyn, and newcomer Lajoie is a handsome presence, somewhat resembling the young Keanu Reeves. The problem with Gerontophilia is that, for all its potential to shock, it feels derivative. It has inevitably been called "a reverse Lolita" and "a gay Harold and Maude." Neither characterization is entirely fair to LaBruce, who has taken a touchy subject and handled it with enough imagination to make it both watchable and provocative. 

Intentions of Murder (Shohei Imamura, 1964)

Masumi Harukawa in Intentions of Murder

Cast: Masumi Harukawa, Ko Nishimura, Shigeru Tsuyuguchi, Yuko Kusonoki, Ranko Akagi, Tomio Aoki, Kazuo Kitamura, Yoshi Kato, Tanie Kitabayashi, Seiji Miyaguchi, Shoichi Ozawa. Screenplay: Shinji Fujiwara, Keiji Hasebe, Shohei Imamaura. Cinematography: Shinsaku Himeda. Art direction: Kimihiko Nakamura. Film editing: Mutsuo Tanji. Music: Toshiro Mayuzumi. 

Shohei Imamura's dark, even cynical vision was never more fully on display than in Intentions of Murder, a thriller in which a woman's revenge on her rapist is accomplished more by accident than intent. Sadako (Masumi Harukawa) is alone in her house when an intruder in search of money discovers and rapes her. A plain, overweight woman, Sadako is in a loveless marriage arrangement (the relationship has never been officially cerified) with Koichi (Ko Nishimura), raising his son by another marriage and generally being scorned by his family. Koichi, a librarian, is meanwhile having an affair with his colleague Yoshiko (Yuko Kusonoki). Sadako contemplates suicide after the rape but fails to follow through, and when she again encounters the rapist, Hiraoka (Shigeru Tsuyuguchi), he develops an obsession with her. Discovering that she's pregnant and uncertain whether the child is Hiraoka's or Koichi's, she agrees to run away with Hiraoka to Tokyo, planning to poison him along the way. Meanwhile, Yoshiko discovers Sadako's relationship with Hiraoka, and begins following them, taking photographs of the pair to persuade Koichi to leave Sadako and marry her. This complex, melodramatic plot takes some twists before an ending in which Sadako is ironically better off than she started. Expressionist camerawork sets the mood and tone for the film, which never lets the viewer relax enough to question some of its characterization and motives. 

Wildlife (Paul Dano, 2018)

Carey Mulligan and Jake Gyllenhaal in Wildlife

Cast: Ed Oxenbould, Carey Mulligan, Jake Gyllenhaal, Bill Camp, Zoe Margaret Colletti, Darryl Cox, Travis Bruyer, Mollie Mulligan. Screenplay: Paul Dano, Zoe Kazan, based on a novel by Richard Ford. Cinematography: Diego Garcia. Production design: Akin McKenzie. Film editing: Louise Ford, Matthew Hannam. Music: David Lang. 

Paul Dano made his debut as a director with Wildlife, a well-made, particularly well-acted adaptation of a Richard Ford novel. It details the breakup of a marriage as seen primarily from the point of view of a 14-year-old boy played by Ed Oxenbould. Joe Brinson has moved with his parents, Jerry (Jake Gyllenhaal) and Jeanette (Carey Mulligan), to a town in Montana where Jerry hopes their fortunes will improve. It's clear from the start that things are not going right for the Brinsons: Jerry loses his job at a country club; Jeanette, a former teacher, is unhappy as a stay-at-home mom; and Joe disappoints his father, who wants him to play football, by winding up as a benchwarmer. When a forest fire breaks out, Jerry goes off to join the crew fighting it, leaving Jeanette and Joe to fend for themselves. Joe gets a job as an assistant to the photographer in a portrait studio, and Jeanette takes work as a swimming teacher at the Y. One of her students is a middle-aged man, Warren Miller (Bill Camp), the well-to-do owner of a car dealership. She responds to his flirtation, seeing a way out of a marriage gone stale. Mulligan is perfect in the part of Jeanette. demonstrating her frustration with Jerry and her semi-reluctant capitulation to the advances of Warren, who has not much other than his wealth to attract her. Oxenbould also skillfully captures Joe's awakening to the reality of his parents' dysfunctional marriage and his mother's infidelity. Gyllenhaal has a less demanding role, mostly demonstrating Jerry's fundamental aimlessness and initially passive response to worsening circumstances. Wildlife is a sober, low-key film that probably worked better on the page than on the screen because its melancholy story lacks urgency and drama. It too often feels like we're watching performers instead of actual people. 

Wise Blood (John Huston, 1979)

Brad Dourif in Wise Blood

Cast: Brad Dourif, Dan Shor, Harry Dean Stanton, Amy Wright, Mary Nell Santacroce, Ned Beatty, William Hickey, John Huston. Screenplay: Benedict Fitzgerald, Michael Fitzgerald, based on a novel by Flannery O'Connor. Cinematography: Gerry Fisher. Film editing: Roberto Silvi. Music: Alex North. 

John Huston's Wise Blood is a classic example of the difficulty of translating a novel to film. With only a few small deviations from the plot, the screenplay by Benedict and Michael Fitzgerald sticks closely to Flannery O'Connor's novel, but it misses the effect of O'Connor's prose, characterization, tone, and point of view on the reader. The novel is one kind of experience, an immersion in O'Connor's private imaginings and her particular religious beliefs and sensibility. The film is another, a puzzling, exasperating, sometimes tiresome tale of eccentric people in a setting familiar to moviegoers, the Southern small town. That the film is its own thing apart from any resemblance to the novel it was drawn from is suggested by the casting. Huston originally wanted Tommy Lee Jones to play Hazel Motes, with Brad Dourif in the role of Enoch Emory. It's hard to imagine two actors with more different personae than the tough, bullish Jones and the weedy, vulnerable Dourif. But when Jones became unavailable, Dourif was cast in the part, and Hazel Motes became something quite different. Wise Blood has many admirers, but there are those of us who find it weighed down by Southern Gothic clichés and ambiguous in intent. Is it a satire on the excesses of evangelical Protestantism? An exploration of religious fanaticism, or a demonstration of the weakening hold of religious belief? Or just an incoherent collection of oddball characters with unusual fixations doing unlikely things?   

Zegen (Shohei Imamura, 1987)

Mitsuko Baisho and Ken Ogata in Zegen

Cast: Ken Ogata, Mitsuko Baisho, Ko Chun-hsiung, Norihei Miki, Hiroyuki Konishi, Sansho Shinsui, Tetta Sugimoto, Taiji Tonoyama, Leonard Kuma, Fujio Tokita, Minori Terada. Screenplay: Shohei Imamura, Kota Okabe. Cinematography: Masao Tochizawa. Art direction: Yoshinaga Yoko'o. Film editing: Hajime Okayasu. Music: Shinichiro Ikebe. 

Sardonic and often raunchy, Shohei Imamura's Zegen takes a jaundiced look at Japanese imperial ambitions in the early 20th century. Ken Ogata stars as Iheji Muraoka, an actual figure who made his fortune by running a chain of brothels in southeastern Asia. In the film, he jumps ship off of Hong Kong and sets up as a barber before being recruited to spy against Russia during the Russo-Japanese War. He becomes convinced of the greatness of the emperor of Japan, especially after being financially rewarded for his services in Manchuria. Returning to Hong Kong, he sets up his business as a zegen -- a pimp -- with the aid of an old love, Shiho (Mitsuko Baisho, recruiting Japanese women to serve in his brothels in Malaya. Eventually, he's challenged both in business and in his relationship with Shiho, by a Chinese rival, Wang (Ko Chun-hsiung). With abundant nudity and talk about sex, Zegen is certainly not reticent about the business it examines, but it also serves as a scathing look at that era in the history of Japan. There are a few really funny moments, such as Muraoka's failed attempt at harakiri, in which he discovers not only that it hurts but that there's actual blood. But it's the kind of film that makes you wince more often than it makes you laugh. 

The Haunted Strangler (Robert Day, 1958)

Boris Karloff in The Haunted Strangler

Cast: Boris Karloff, Anthony Dawson, Derek Birch, Dorothy Gordon, Elizabeth Allan, Diane Aubrey, Tim Turner, Jean Kent, Vera Day, Max Brimmell, Leslie Perrins. Screenplay: Jan Read, John Croydon. Cinematography: Lionel Banes. Set designer: John Elphick. Film editing: Peter Mayhew. Music: Buxton Orr. 

The Haunted Strangler is a moderately effective B-movie from Britain, created mainly to exploit the skill and reputation of Boris Karloff. He plays a writer, James Rankin, who becomes obsessed with a crime that happened 20 years earlier: the strangling and stabbing of five women by an assailant who had the use of only one arm. Circumstantial evidence pointed to a man named Edward Styles, who was hanged for the murders. We see his public execution at the beginning of the film, an effective mood-setter. In the course of investigating the crime, Rankin becomes convinced that a physician named Tennant, who conducted autopsies on both Styles and his victims, was the true killer. His investigations take him to a shabby music hall called The Judas Hole, where he interrogates witnesses to the last of the murders, and eventually to the grave of Styles, where he exhumes the body -- and where the plot takes a sudden twist. Although burdened with lame expository dialogue and mediocre performances (aside from Karloff, professional and effective as always), The Haunted Strangler gives the viewers the creeps they came for. 

Backrooms (Kane Parsons, 2026)

Cast: Chiwetel Ejiofor, Renate Reinsve, Mark Duplass, Finn Bennett, Lukita Maxwell, Avan Jogia, Robert Bobroczkyi, Ember Ambrose, Krista Kosonen, Philip Granger. Screenplay: Will Soodik. Cinematography: Jeremy Cox. Production design: Danny Vermette. Film editing: Greg Ng. Music: Kane Parsons, Edo Van Breemen. 

Eerie and empty, like the rooms it features. Kane Parsons's Backrooms was a hit debut that reminds me a lot of another sleeper hit, The Blair Witch Project (Eduardo Sánchez, Daniel Myrick, 1999), and not just because so much of it features hand-held video camera work. We seem to like watching people fall apart. The backroom world of the film is an obvious metaphor for the recesses of our repressed memories, mostly empty and unremarkable. Parsons makes the most of it by having his protagonists struggling to come to terms with the past: Clark (Chiwetel Ejiofor) with the failure of his career and his marriage, Mary (Renate Reinsve) with her childhood as the daughter of a woman suffering and eventually institutionalized with agoraphobia. What better setting for a failed architect and someone with a history of dealing with the fear of open spaces than a maze-like agglomeration of windowless rooms? The problem with the film is that it never goes beyond concept into anything that merits interpretation and analysis. It's staged and acted well, and it probes nicely into universal fears of the unknown and feelings of claustrophobia. But is that enough?  

Padre Pio (Abel Ferrara, 2022)

Shia LaBeouf in Padre Pio

Cast: Shia LaBeouf, Cristina Chiriac, Marco Leonardi, Asia Argento, Vincenzo Crea, Luca Lionello, Salvatore Ruocco, Brando Pacitto, Stella Mastrantonio, Federico Majorana, Michelangelo Dalisi. Screenplay: Maurizio Braucci, Abel Ferrara. Cinematography: Alessandro Abate. Production design: Tommaso Ortino. Film editing: Leonado Daniel Bianchi. Music: Joe Delia. 

Although Shia LaBeouf said that he became a devout Christian while making Abel Ferrara's Padre Pio, his performance is one of the worst things about a misfired film. Now officially Saint Pio of Pietrelcina after his canonization by Pope John Paul II in 2002, the Capuchin friar played by LaBeouf lends his name to a film that's not very much about him. Most of Padre Pio, and certainly the more interesting part, deals with the conflict in the village of San Giovanni Rotondo between socialists and the landowners who became part of the emerging National Fascist Party, culminating in a massacre following an election that went against the landowners in 1920. Ferrara stages the scenes that culminate in the massacre well, beginning with the arrival in the village of the men who had served in World War I, and continuing with the exploitation of farmworkers by the landowners, some of whom had fought side by side in the war. But the depiction of Padre Pio's spiritual torment, including a literal fight with the devil and his receiving the stigmata at the film's end, feels cooked up in comparison with the realistic depiction of the political conflict. LaBeouf's American accent also clashes distractingly with the accents of the Italian actors who surround him. Ferrara stunt-casts Asia Argento as a man who confesses his incestuous desire for his daughter to the friar. The gender switch of the casting only adds to the film's general incoherence.