Nothing New But Movies
Now Playing: Billy Bragg and the Blokes--"St. Monday"
Since I got a phone again, I've been able to rent movies from one of the few really, really good places in Ann Arbor: Liberty Street Video, one of the best rental places in the Midwest (from what I can tell). The staff are usually pretty nice, which is a little unsettling for a video store, but I shouldn't complain too much.

The cold continues to evaporate and the weather continues to get warmer, and I finally felt up to visiting the Nichols Arboretum once more, for the first time snice probably Christmas. As it's only a few blocks from my house, there's really no good excuse for my absence.

For some reason, though, my life has, as usual, revolved around watching obscure movies rented from LSV (whose 6 for 6 days at $6.66, while a second-grader's level of blasphemy, really can't be beat). And, of course, the ones Lou puts on over at Cinema Guild.

The People That Time Forgot (1977), was the sequel to The Land That Time Forgot (1975). The first starred Doug McClure, the second starred Patrick Wayne, and both featured some entertainingly unconvincing rubber dinosaurs. I really like that sort of thing, myself, especially since it looks like not a drop (?) of CGI was used. I'd been warned that People would be awful, but was surprised to actually like it. The supporting cast--Sarah Douglas, Thorley Walters, Dana Gillespie, and Shane Rimmer--were great, and there's kind of a lost-world quality that arises from the movie's place in the wake of Star Wars, which came out in the same year. To me, People stands for all the endearingly old-fashioned special-effects movies that got pulverized by Lucasfilm's corrosive popcorn majesty. For that, I'll love it always.

60s German wunderkind Rainer Werner Fassbinder is an acquired taste for me, but I was surprised to enjoy his The American Soldier (1970), about a noirish Vietnam veteran-cum-hitman. There's probably never been a weirder ending (oh, sure there has, but you've gotta have some reason to go see it).

Cinema Guild this week showed Lisa and the Devil (1973), Mario Bava's second outing with the bodacious Ms. Elke Sommer, who looks great in this. The movie really could have been retitled Spanish Castle Magic or something, and could have roped in people expecting to see a Hendrix documentary, as it sort of involves magic and takes place in a Spanish castle. It's good to see, by the way, that my powers of wit haven't deserted me. Telly Savalas adds another triumph to his pre-Kojak entertainment career (this came right after Horror Express), and the movie is completely wacko, although it isn't quite leavened by the joyous misanthropy of Five Dolls For an August Moon.

Tonight, it's "Cinema Guild--After Hours" in Auditorium 2 of the Modern Languages Building for a mini-tribute to Howard Hawks, with the original Scarface (1932), which I've seen, and Only Angels Have Wings (1939), which I haven't.

Projectorhead, an organization of the U-M Film Studies Department (I think), shows movies for a time every Thursday in the same space. Last night, they showed The Merry Widow (1934), an Ernst Lubitsch comedy with Jeannette MacDonald and Maurice Chevalier. Ever since my mom took us to see Naughty Marietta (1935) at the old Varsity Theater in Baton Rouge, I've always wanted to see more of MacDonald's stuff. Sonia (MacDonald) is the wealthiest widow in the Ruritanian country of Marshovia, so wealthy that her fortune composes just over half the gross national product. When she tires of Marshovia and decides to go have fun in gay Paree, the frantic King Achmed sends the ultra-suave Count Danilo (Chevalier) after her to try and win her (and her money) back. Edward Everett Horton is great in his usual role as a dithering fusspot (in this case, the Marshovian Ambassador in Paris). Great fun, with well-written songs (including composer Franz Lehar's famous "Merry Widow Waltz") and entertaining contrived situations, double entendres, and assorted numskullery.