The Deep End (2022; d. Jon Kasbe)
I’m into cults but I actively avoid woo-woo, so somehow Teal Swan escaped my radar. Well, she’s on my radar NOW. This Netflix doc is extraordinary because Teal Swan participated in it, she allowed the camera crew to enter her home and inner circle. Is this due to vanity? She assumed she would come off looking good? She is rather frightening and the footage of her workshops are truly disturbing. The whole “repressed memory” thing is scarily persistent. It’s been debunked by psychologists, psychiatrists, over and over again, and still it persists. Isn’t it incredible that so many people witnessed Satanic murders of babies as children and yet … there were no missing persons reports for missing babies, no coroners’ inquests, nothing about all the murdered babies across the land. There’s one really chilling moment where Teal Swan’s assistant – this brainwashed woman, Ugh, it was so sad – described her own “ritual abuse” as a child, where she witnessed her parents or babysitters or whatever – holding babies over a fire, grilling them alive. The interviewer off-camera asks, “Why were they doing that?” For a second, this woman looked confused – a teeny tiny moment of cognitive dissonance – In HER world, such revelations are not questioned. Ever. This is a total shitshow and very dangerous. And Teal is an intriguing subject for the camera. Her VOICE is so interesting: it’s hypnotic. I was also fascinated by her use of curse words. It feels very deliberate and imposed and over-determined. It’s a way to dominate and threaten.
Roustabout (1964; d. John Rich)
Elvis and Barbara Stanwyck! The romance here doesn’t really make any sense – they rarely do in Elvis movies – but he looks fantastic – that black leather jacket! – and there are scenes between Elvis and Stanwyck that spark. She’s so good, so “in it”, such a pro, and you can almost see him appreciating her during their scenes together. He rises to her level. These are equally balanced scenes. People who say he can’t act have no idea what they’re talking about. THEY can’t act, that’s the real issue.
We Are as Gods (2021; d. David Alvarado, Jason Sussberg)
The more I think about this documentary and the de-extinction movement, the ikkier it all seems. And I should have done more digging into Stewart Brand. Poke a little bit and all kinds of shitty gross things are uncovered. I reviewed for Ebert.
True Things (2022; d. Harry Wootliff)
I really grooved to the emotional intensity of this, and its frankness about obsession and sex, about how we can be narcotized by “bad”-ness, that something that is “bad” for you has a much stronger pull than something that is recognizably good and normal. I reviewed for Ebert.
Girl Happy (1965; d. Boris Sagal)
Along with Viva Las Vegas, this is peak Elvis Formula Movie. We also get Elvis in drag.
Elvis (2022; d. Baz Luhrmann)
Once more unto the breach.
Tickle Me (1965; d. Norman Taurog)
One of my faves of Elvis’ movies and it’s really barely known outside hard-core fans. The movie takes place on a “fat farm” in the desert, where Elvis works as a ranch hand, and distracts the women from their diet goals by singing and wreaking havoc. Stupid, right? Add to that a ghost town – a haunted old Western hotel – a flashback to gold-rush times – hidden gold – a kidnapping plot – and some good old-fashioned quid-pro-quo workplace sexual harassment (i.e. Elvis’ lady boss propositions him and tells him she’ll up his salary if he … you know) … like, what is going on here. Well, if you think of this movie as a spoof and a parody – with tongue firmly in its cheek – an inside-joke, where every single person is in on the joke – including Elvis, especially Elvis – then the whole thing shifts into focus. It’s hilarious and confident and stupid and entertaining. They know what they’re doing. Nobody thinks they’re making a serious movie. They are literally spoofing themselves. It’s super fun. Plus Elvis does an INSANE number early on … I wrote a whole piece about this number, and what he’s doing, because it’s key to understanding him and the impact he had. Seriously: what he is doing here is nuuuuuuuuuuts.
Harum Scarum (1965; d. Gene Nelson)
We’re moving into the dark era (with a couple of shining moments). But in general: the Grimness begins now. I think it’s important to point out that Elvis Movies weren’t the only shitty movies happening in the mid-60s. It was a bad era for movies. The studio system was crumbling. As a way to fight back, movies suffered from gigantism (Cleopatra, Hello Dolly, Dr. Doolittle) which bankrupted everyone. Beach Blanket Bingo. A complete denial of the social reality was epidemic. The 1950s film industry addressed issues such as race relations, alcoholism, infidelity, mental illness, sexuality … the mainstream 60s movies snapped into a puritanical chaste attitude which was actually new in the industry. You watch movies in the 30s and 40s and the subject matter is wide-ranging, often socially conscious, and unafraid of tough subjects. So. Back to Elvis. Harum Scarum is bad – very bad – but – scarily – it is not the low point. The low points are to come. I feel I must point out though: The man made 31 movies, 3 a year, for over a decade and … there are more good ones than bad ones. The fact that this is not common knowledge is just outrageous to me. That’s why I’m here.
Frankie and Johnny (1966; d. Fred de Cordova)
Bad. It feels endless. Good cast though – including Harry Morgan! The “black cat” number is good, although the sound mix is all off (a common feature in these mid-60s soundtracks). There’s one number that comes alive – purely because of Elvis’ self-belief – but you’ll have to watch it to figure out which one it is.
Paradise, Hawaiian Style (1966; d. Mickey Moore)
As far as I’m concerned, this is the nadir. It’s not even a movie. He barely has a musical number. It’s a travelogue. The one song with any “pep” is given to a child. The whole thing is insulting and unprecedented in terms of a major star. I literally can’t think of an equivalent. Elvis was such a professional he always “showed up” even for the silly stuff – he did his best – but here he looks openly bored. I almost clock him rolling his eyes a couple of times. Who can blame him.
Spinout (1966; d. Norman Taurog)
Light from the caves. This is fun. This has Shelley Fabares in it – she appeared as a love interest in three of his movies – they have legitimate chemistry (here she is particularly adorable) and it zips and purrs and crackles. Notice that Norman Taurog is at the helm. Taurog knew how to handle this formula (with one notable exception). Keep it moving. Add complications. Add women to the mix. Throw in the songs. Action scenes. Goof off. Never ever leave room for dead air and do not – under any circumstances – take any of it seriously. Give the audience a good time at LEAST. Spinout also features a girl drummer – which had an impact.
Easy Come, Easy Go (1967; d. John Rich)
Elsa Lanchester as a wacko yoga instructor! So this weirdo movie involves an Elvis-Movie version of the counterculture, plus a shipwreck with possible buried gold, and interminable underwater sequences where Elvis (or his double) attempts to defuse a floating sunken bomb and/or search for the buried treasure. The songs are bad. He looks amazing. But the Elvis Movie has, at this point, lost its way (with Spinout a brief respite)
Double Trouble (1967; d. Norman Taurog)
Here is the notable exception to Taurog’s Elvis movie track record. This is some really bleak shit. However: Michael Murphy is in it and he and Elvis have a deadly karate match. There’s also a connection with What’s Up, Doc? (including Michael Murphy) which I meant to write about here – and makes me think – no, makes me KNOW – that Peter Bogdanovich and/or Buck Henry were very very familiar with Double Trouble. Imagine being influenced by Double Trouble. lol It’s really bad. Everyone involved should be run out of town on a rail for making Elvis sing “Ol’ MacDonald”. To be fair though: Elvis, what would have happened if you just said “No, I’m not doing that”. Why couldn’t you just say “No, I’m not doing that.” I promise you nothing bad would have happened. Not by 1967. You’re 32 years old. Say “No, I’m not doing that.” I beg you.
Clambake (1967; d. Arthur H. Nadel)
Nadir #2. Even his costumes are bad. He’s clearly gained weight (although his weight fluctuated wildly) and his costumes accentuate the weight gain as opposed to hide it. The movie feels endless except for the interactions with Shelley Fabares, who always brings a sweet sense of truth and charm to the screen. Again, you can clock Elvis not giving a fuck, which was rare.
Stay Away, Joe (1968; d. Peter Tewksbury)
There are many many problems with this movie – including racism, called out in the reviews at the time (lest the younguns feel like saying “Stuff like this was accepted back then.” No it wasn’t. Not in 1968. History exists. Learn.) The book on which it was based also was controversial for its stereotypes, etc. So okay there’s that. But I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: It’s 1968, Elvis is one year away from being released from the prison of his contract, and the formula – already toppling – has now crashed completely. Elvis is unleashed. He’s lean, gorgeous, modern, and sexual. Elvis movies were mostly chaste – there’s no chaste-ness here.
In fact, in one scene it appears that he has sex with three separate women (all of whom seem very happy about it). This is the same year as the comeback special, and it shows. He looks fantastic. He rolls around in the dirt with a pigpile of men, laughing hysterically. He’s part of an ensemble. He only sings a couple of songs. And then there’s this
…… see what I mean?
Plus, he has a sexually suggestive super hot scene with the great Joan Blondell.
This movie is notorious for the song Elvis was forced to sing about a recalcitrant bull. Elvis was literally in tears, begging the powers-that-be that the recording of this song would never see the light of day. Not an exaggeration. He cried. It was that bad. It IS that bad.
The Justice of Bunny King (2022; d. Gaysorn Thavat)
Essie Davis continues to astonish. I reviewed for Ebert.
Sins of Our Mother (2022; d. Skye Borgman)
Wow. I knew the bare bones of this story, but never dug into it further. Now I know more than I ever wanted to know, and this shit is legit chilling. Like, I’m truly freaked out. Those poor children.
Speedway (1968; d. Norman Taurog)
Thank you, Taurog, for re-asserting the formula, while also revitalizing it. There are some low points – the song to the IRS (the choreography is pretty funny: still though, Elvis isn’t a musical star who does choreography. Stop trying to make him something he’s not.) Nancy Sinatra is a very strange cinematic figure, but her number is fun, and the whole nightclub set is worth the price of admission (as are the numbers Elvis does there). Quentin Tarantino obviously felt the same way. Damn, he looks good in this movie. It hurts.
Live a Little, Love a Little (1968; d. Norman Taurog)
There is zero reason this movie shouldn’t be counted as a pleasing and entertaining ’60s romantic-comedy romp. It’s superior to many of the others in that particular genre. I’ve written a lot about it, and also spoke of it in the talk I gave in Memphis on Elvis’ movie career. I wrote about it here – and I included it in my piece on Elvis for Film Comment.
Charro! (1969; d. Charles Marquis Warren)
Formula no more. Elvis only sings the theme song (and it’s a beautiful almost operatic number, steeped in melodrama). This is Elvis’ semi-Spaghetti-Western, and he’s very good in it. So is Ina Balin as the love interest slash local bordello Madame. Again, there is no reason this movie shouldn’t be remembered. It can be enjoyed on its own terms. Unlike, say, Tickle Me or Girl Happy, you don’t need any context to understand what’s happening. Elvis is IN this, but it’s not “an Elvis movie”. I mean, come on, he has a raggedy beard. Plus, he works his angles!
The Trouble with Girls (1969; d. Peter Tewksbury)
No apologies need to be made for this movie. You do not need to grade it on an Elvis curve. (Not that Elvis needs to be graded on a curve – but his movies require a little adjustment in order to understand what the hell is even going ON). But this? It’s just a good movie, period, and almost totally unknown. It’s an ensemble movie. Elvis isn’t even the lead, although he is the central figure. But long long sections go by where he’s not even in it. The cast is all very good (Dabney Coleman is great, as are all the women, particularly Marlyn Mason and Sheree North – plus Vincent Price is in it) – and Elvis gets to sing gospel. All of the songs are justified, woven into the action (the movie is about a traveling show on the Chautauqua circuit) … plus there’s a murder mystery, plus Tewksbury has some Altman-like effects – long zooms and pans … giving it a very different look and feel from the normal Elvis fare. I recommend this movie with no reservations. The title is meaningless. The movie has nothing to do with “the trouble with girls”. It’s about the end of an era – the Chautauqua – and a group of people trying to find their place in a changing world. It’s also about Elvis in a white suit and Elvis’ sideburns.
Change of Habit (1969; d. William Graham)
Elvis’ final narrative feature. He plays an inner-city doctor, because of course he does. Mary Tyler Moore is the love interest. I refer to this as “Elvis’ Vatican II movie”.
Sirens (2022; d. Rita Baghdadi)
I just reviewed this documentary about an all-girl metal band in Lebanon. I highly recommend it.
Blonde (2022; d. Andrew Dominick)
Percolating about this phantasmagorical body-horror ode to the 20th century pagan Death Cult which has little if anything to do with Marilyn Monroe.
Strawberry Blonde (1941; d. Raoul Walsh)
A fave. Excellent performances (unsurprisingly) from James Cagney, Rita Hayworth, Olivia de Havilland, and Jack Carson. Subtle, too: deep character development, each person has an arc.
Out of the Fog (1941; Anatole Litvak)
Moody, grim, gripping moral and ethical dilemmas, insightful character acting by all involved: John Garfield, Ida Lupino, Eddie Albert, Thomas Mitchell, John Qualen. Thomas Mitchell is, unsurprisingly, absolutely heartbreaking. He has moments that are legitimately difficult to look at. Interesting to consider the following year Ida Lupino and Thomas Mitchell would team up again in Moontide – which I wrote about for Film Comment …
where their relationship is totally different. In Out of the Fog they are father and daughter, and what a beautiful complex relationship they create. In Moontide she is a tough girl – read: prostitute – saved from suicide, only to be raped by Thomas Mitchell’s closeted gay psychopath. Terrifying: one of Mitchell’s very best performances, but then again, with Mitchell it’s hard to choose.
