What We’re Watching – November 2023

This November, we look back at a number of lesser known films as well as one film that perhaps was ahead of its time. Continue reading to find out What We’re Watching this month:

The Tall T (1957)

Budd Boetticher‘s 1957 oater, The Tall T, is one of the genre’s great unfussy works, its straightforward style and ambivalent — to say the least — outlook on human nature and frontier life, paving the way for the bleakness that the likes of Sam Peckinpah and Italian directors like Sergio Leone and Sergio Corbucci would explore in the ’60s. The film centers on a ranch foreman, a newlywed couple, and a stagecoach driver who get held up by three ruthless outlaws. When the bandits learn of the woman’s family wealth, they decide to kidnap her and hold her for ransom.

Randolph Scott and Richard Boone both shine as the down-on-his-luck schlub-turned-hero Pat Brennan and as the big nasty Frank Usher, respectively, bringing a remarkable physicality to their roles. Henry Silva‘s turn as a quick-with-the-trigger-finger sociopath who’s referred to only as Chink, adds an extra dimension of wickedness to the sinister outlaw trio, playing off Brennan’s more sophisticated (though no less brutal) head honcho nicely. There’s a real loneliness to how cinematographer Charles Lawton Jr. frames the characters against the desolate prairie but it’s really the tough-guy moral quandaries and hard-nosed, “survival at all cost” desperation that make this such a lean, mean gem. – Fred Barrett

The King of Comedy (1983)

You know the type of person who is ridiculously talented and carries themselves with an abundance of charisma that you can’t help but wonder how much harm they could do if they dedicated themselves to something different? That is Rupert Pupkin (Robert De Niro). The self-proclaimed ‘King of Comedy’, Rupert believes he has what it takes to become a stand-up comedian. Only problem is, he has no audience. That’s where Jerry Langford (Jerry Lewis) comes in. If Langford were to feature Rupert on his show, Rupert believes his talents could propel him to stardom. If he could just get his foot in the door.

In The King of Comedy, we see Pupkin attempt to send Langford his comedy tape. He drops off the tape at Langford’s office and insists he can wait until Langford has the chance to hear it. Deep down, he knows Langford is not going to drop everything he’s doing and listen to the tape but Pupkin is self-sabotaging and refuses to leave until he’s promised a deadline for Langford to listen to the tape. Pupkin is a misanthrope and despite a chance encounter with Langford earlier where Langford recommends Pupkin start with smaller shows to build up his material, Pupkin refuses to heed Langford’s recommendation and fixates on his obsession with Langford and performing on his show. The disastrous turn of events that follow depict what happens when an individual abandons convention and his social institutions, and instead favors his egocentrism. It makes for an uncomfortable film – Pupkin is no common man’s hero – that is critical of populism and celebrity worship. – Alex Sitaras

Evil Dead Trap (1988)

There is an intense hallucinatory undercurrent to Toshiharu Ikeda‘s Evil Dead Trap. Starting with the bones of a slasher, the film adds layers of gloom with its desolate industrial setting, the ghostly flicker of TV screens, body horror, and gnarly kills. Ikeda has a remarkable eye for memorable, haunting images — the interspersed monochrome POV sequences that stutter along in choppy semi-animation are remarkable as is a kill involving large metal spikes that emerge from the floor as if conjured from the netherworld — and coupled with the film’s off-the-wall Argento-isms (the elaborate death scenes, the in-your-face score), Evil Dead Trap nestles in somewhere between sleazy exploitation and hazy post-genre artfulness.

While some of the thorny imagery points towards themes of media sensationalism — a snuff film being sent to a news station is what kicks the story into gear — and libidinal urges festering behind societal repression, its ending echoes a particularly upsetting dream sequence from David Cronenberg‘s The Fly as well as the subway scene from Andrzej Żuławski‘s Possession. Audiences familiar with the work of screenwriter Takashi Ishii — no stranger to controversial subject matter, having written pink films such as Love Hotel and the ultra-harsh Sweet Whip, the latter of which he also directed — know that some degree of transgression comes with the territory and combined with Ikeda’s visual flair, Evil Dead Trap throbs like a nightmare-induced headache. – Fred Barrett

Confess, Fletch (2022)

Co-written and directed by Greg Mottola, this 2022 film focuses on an investigative journalist named Fletch (Jon Hamm), who is the prime suspect of a series of murders, yet he is convinced he can prove his innocence.

Usually the premise of the film would make a good basis for a thriller or a crime drama, however, given Fletch’s antics and his resorting to humour everytime something goes wrong, the film has a very light and fun tone as a result. This is partly because of the writing, but just as much because of Hamm’s brilliant acting.

With a runtime of 98 minutes that does not waste the viewer’s time, Confess, Fletch is very reminiscent of 2000s crime comedies with its twists and turns. In any case, anyone who likes a light crime film would be quite content with what they’ve seen by the time the credits roll. – Alper Kavak