Since his death in 1999, Stanley Kubrick's legend has only grown, especially with some once-verboten looks into his filmmaking methodology, which was largely shrouded in secrecy during his lifetime. Such projects include the documentary STANLEY KUBRICK: A LIFE IN PICTURES, by his producer and brother-in-law Jan Harlan, the archival making-of doc by Kubrick's daughter Vivian that's on the SHINING Blu-ray, and Matthew Modine's essential Full Metal Jacket Diary, a coffee table book compiling the actor's bluntly candid journal entries and behind-the-scenes photos he took from the audition process through the completion of 1987's FULL METAL JACKET. Kubrick's dual nature--a genius artist with a demonstrable capacity for warmth and humor and the mercurial, 100-plus-take perfectionist who thought nothing of mercilessly haranguing actors and colleagues to the point of tears and even nervous breakdowns in the pursuit of his art--is on display in all of these. But Tony Zierra's documentary FILMWORKER gets inside the head of a man who walked away from his acting career just as it was taking off to essentially serve at Kubrick's beck-and-call to this day, even though the director has been gone for nearly 20 years. Born in 1947, Leon Vitali was a jobbing young British actor in the late '60s and early '70s, landing gigs on stage, TV, and in a few movies, never really breaking out but never out of work. His big break came when he landed the pivotal supporting role of Lord Bullington in Kubrick's 1975 film BARRY LYNDON and immediately bonded with the director, who wrote additional scenes for Vitali, expanding his role to keep him on the production. Vitali was fascinated by Kubrick's attention to detail and intensive, obsessive management of every aspect of the gargantuan production and expressed an interest in working behind the scenes. After finishing BARRY LYNDON, Vitali had the title role in the 1977 Swedish/Irish co-production VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN and asked director Calvin Floyd if he could stick around after filming wrapped and observe him putting the movie together in the editing room. He reconnected with Kubrick, who gave him an assignment to read Stephen King's The Shining and before long, Vitali was pressed into service as the director's chief assistant and trusted confidante, abandoning his promising acting career and heading to America to both oversee auditions for the crucial role of Danny Torrance in THE SHINING as well as taking extensive photographs of lodges and hotel interiors across America in order to help Kubrick design the perfect Overlook Hotel interior to be constructed on sets at Elstree Studios in London.
BARRY LYNDON stars Ryan O'Neal and
Leon Vitali, reunited over 40 years later.
With his dark glasses, long hair, and hoarse voice ravaged by decades of chain smoking, the present-day Vitali looks like the kind of aging rocker that Bill Nighy played in STILL CRAZY. It was Vitali who discovered Danny Lloyd for THE SHINING and functioned as his guardian and protector through the shoot. It was Vitali who worked closely with R. Lee Ermey on FULL METAL JACKET and had to break the news to an already-cast Tim Colceri that Kubrick decided to replace him with Ermey in the key role of the merciless drill instructor. Colceri, who was given a consolation prize of playing a crazed door gunner ("Get some!") is interviewed, and still seems haunted by losing the role, and though he was kept in the movie, he remains resentful that Kubrick demoted him via a typewritten letter (Colceri still has the letter) and tasked Vitali with delivering it to him. Numerous talking heads appear with memories of Kubrick and the heavy workload dumped on Vitali: Modine, Colceri, the late Ermey, a grown-up Lloyd, BARRY LYNDON star Ryan O'Neal (Zierra arranges an affectionate reunion for Vitali and O'Neal), EYES WIDE SHUT's Marie Richardson, past Warner Bros. execs, film historian Nick Redman, and Vitali's adult children. In addition to his duties on Kubrick's films, Vitali was also responsible for cataloging negatives, color timing, lab and restoration work, cutting trailers for countries all over the world, overseeing and approving DVD and Blu-ray transfers according to Kubrick's strict specifications, and even, as shown by one handwritten note ("Leon, billiard room!"), tidying up rooms and offices at Kubrick's estate.
Vitali at the far left, with Joe Turkel, Stanley Kubrick,
and Jack Nicholson on the set of THE SHINING
Vitali with Kubrick on the set of FULL METAL JACKET
A look back at Vitali's childhood reveals his stern, domineering father died when he was eight years old, and it's more or less inferred by three of his siblings that his need give over everything to Kubrick was a way of filling a paternal void that's existed since Vitali was a child (one Modine diary entry in his book reads "I feel sorry for Leon, but he's chosen this life," and in FILMWORKER, he calls Vitali's servile sacrifice "a crucifixion of himself for Kubrick"). Over old home movie footage of Vitali's young children playing around stacks of film cans in a cluttered office while Vitali slaves away at a desk, his now-grown son describes his dad's 24/7 work schedule for Kubrick as "Kafka-esque," recalling a childhood memory of Vitali working late one Christmas Eve, long after everyone else left the office. Kubrick gave him some gifts and wished him a Merry Christmas, but then, "Sure enough, around 1:00 in the afternoon on Christmas Day, the phone started ringing. It was Stanley." When Kubrick died just after finishing EYES WIDE SHUT, Vitali took it upon himself to act as the keeper of all things Kubrick, nearly wrecking his health with countless sleepless nights at the Warner offices in L.A. supervising a frame by frame restoration of all of the director's films, approaching it with his mentor's same obsessive quest for perfection, so much so that he proceeded to alienate the execs overseeing the project (this is the only point in the film where an upset Vitali cuts off Zierra and says "I don't want to talk about this anymore"). Vitali recognizes the dysfunction that existed in his relationship with Kubrick (he says his tirades were similar to those by chef Gordon Ramsey), but accepts it as his calling, has no regrets, and misses him dearly. FILMWORKER is a fascinating glimpse into one of the most enigmatic and unsung figures in the Kubrick universe, a man whose selfless devotion to the filmmaker and preserving the integrity of the presentation of his work almost seems to take precedence over every other aspect of his own life. (Unrated, 94 mins)
GHOST STORIES (UK - 2018)
An earnest British horror film that plays like an old-school Amicus portmanteau for the BLACK MIRROR crowd, GHOST STORIES was written and directed by Jeremy Dyson and star Andy Nyman, based on their popular play that debuted in 2010. The change in medium doesn't always work in the film adaptation's favor in terms of telegraphing its plot turns on its way to a reveal that isn't as clever or as original as it thinks it is, but there's some nicely atmospheric chills along the way. Nyman stars as professional skeptic and paranormal debunker Prof. Philip Goodman, the host of a reality TV show called PSYCHIC CHEATS. He's contacted by Charles Cameron (Leonard Byrne), another celebrity debunker who went off the grid in the late '70s. An embittered Cameron is aged and sickly, and confesses that he feels like an arrogant fraud and excoriates Goodman likewise. Cameron now believes the supernatural is real, and with one directive ("Tell me I'm wrong...I need to know") hands Goodman a file with three cases that he's been unable to debunk. "Case 1" is Tony Matthews (Paul Whitehouse), a widower who encountered something evil as a nightwatchman at an abandoned asylum. "Case 2" is Simon Rifkind (Alex Lawther of Netflix's THE END OF THE F***ING WORLD and the great "Shut Up and Dance" episode of BLACK MIRROR), a teenager with cold, impossible-to-please parents who had an up-close-and-personal encounter with a goat-like creature that believes is the Devil when he hit it with his dad's car on a dark and lonely road. "Case 3" is Mike Priddle (Martin Freeman), a self-absorbed, asshole businessman who believes he was being targeted by a poltergeist while his wife was in the hospital about to deliver a baby that may or may not be human.
Dyson and Nyman utilize the anthology element as each case is shown as a flashback as they tell Goodman their tales, but it's Goodman's wraparound story that ultimately becomes the central focus. There's references throughout to his own miserable upbringing with a psychologically abusive, devoutly religious father and a mother who remained quiet and looked the other way. He was also bulled by other kids for being Jewish, and as Cameron suggests, his present career as a sarcastic debunker is his way of getting back at the world. Where GHOST STORIES--both the ghosts in the cases and the ghosts of Goodman's past--eventually goes won't really be surprising by the end, but it's an enjoyable ride for the most part. The filmmakers stage numerous shots where it looks like an ominous figure might be lurking in the background, the dysfunction in young Simon's house is suffocatingly uncomfortable (he has multiple locks on his bedroom door to keep his parents out, telling Goodman "They don't like me"), and Matthews wandering the long, underground corridors of of the abandoned asylum and encountering a roomful of mannequins is an unnerving enough image that it'll take you a few moments to question exactly why mannequins are being stored in an asylum. The inconsistencies (if Cameron is off-the-grid, how are people still sending him cases?) are such that it becomes clear that there's at least one unreliable narrator among these characters, the directors can't resist going for one hackneyed, INSIDIOUS-style jump scare (no doubt a necessary concession in the transition from stage to screen) and the payoff isn't quite worthy of the elaborate buildup (it's ripped off from a certain acclaimed TV drama from the 1980s), but GHOST STORIES has its heart in the right place. Not essential viewing, but worth a stream for sure. (Unrated, 98 mins)
DISTORTED
(Canada/US - 2018)
Right on the heels of his HUMANITY BUREAU triumph, Canadian director Rob King is back with the equally dismal techno-paranoia thriller DISTORTED. Lauren (Christina Ricci) and Russell (Brendan Fletcher of Uwe Boll's RAMPAGE trilogy) are a financially well-off but emotionally troubled couple who move into The Pinnacle, a high-tech, state-of-the-art "smart" building with around-the-clock security and surveillance. Prior to the move, Lauren is plagued by disturbing dreams and visions of a figure in their apartment, and despite The Pinnacle's sense of security, the nightmares increase in frequency and intensity. Lauren starts seeing subliminal words and images flash across their TV, is constantly being stared at by neighbors scratching the left side of their neck and humming "Beautiful Dreamer," and even watches one Pinnacle resident take a dive off the top of the building. After a cursory browse through a chat room and a conversation with a neighbor (Vicellous Shannon) whose father just so happens to be a pioneer in the world of subliminal advertising, Lauren becomes convinced that the building's owners are conducting secret experiments involving binaural sound waves and message transmissions on a higher-frequency level than the conscious brain--or Rob King--can process. She learns a lot of this from underground journalist and dark web hacker Vernon Sarsfield (John Cusack), who informs her of covert government projects to brainwash the public via subliminal transmissions in "smart" buildings.
One of the dumbest thrillers of 2018, DISTORTED could've been fun in a batshit way, but its story is so muddled and its twist ending so confusing that nothing in it makes much sense. Ricci freaks out a lot, but never really sells you on what Lauren is going through, and a past trauma from which the couple still hasn't recovered is so obviously and repetitively telegraphed from the get-go that when it's finally revealed, it's not even a surprise. The exterior shots of The Pinnacle are laughable--the building is a completely computer-generated visual effect, looking like something out of a shitty Pixar knockoff, and a typically sweaty, disheveled-looking Cusack turns up midway through for a few scenes and disappears from the movie during the climax. He's wearing his usual black ball cap (as seen in RECLAIM and DRIVE HARD) with an added hoodie, a cleverly-deployed accoutrement that frequently obscures Cusack's face and allows him to further embrace Cusackalypse Now by fully committing to the groundbreaking methods pioneered by Dr. Bruce Willis and Prof. Steven Seagal, whose collaborative tutorial "Fake Shemping in the Age of Redbox" takes what was once an unfortunate necessity in the event of an actor's unexpected death and has co-opted it to vigorously prepare any once-relevant and now-visibly inconvenienced actor in the fine art of just sticking around long enough for the close-ups and a quick raid of the craft services table before letting a stand-in handle the rest. (R, 86 mins)
Stanley Kubrick's THE SHINING opened largely to critical derision in the summer of 1980, with many complaining that it deviated too much from Stephen King's 1977 novel. It was still a box office hit, thanks largely to Jack Nicholson's instantly iconic performance. Seeing it at the drive-in with my parents that summer (they probably figured I'd just fall asleep), I was instantly hypnotized by it. Of course, I'd seen movies before (I was seven), but nothing like this. Not just in plot content but from a visual standpoint. This just didn't look like any movie I'd seen up to that point. THE SHINING is probably the movie that got me into movies. It's my favorite film and the one I've seen more than any other (I stopped counting around the 75th viewing, and that was about 20 years ago). THE SHINING has had a profound effect on many cinephiles, as evidenced by Rodney Ascher's often astonishing, frequently bonkers documentary/visual essay ROOM 237, which examines not just the phenomenon of THE SHINING as an enduring classic, but the various theories about the "deeper meaning" Kubrick was trying to convey. Five theorists, heard but never seen, explain their positions on what Kubrick, arguably cinema's greatest filmmaker and most obsessively detailed, was attempting with THE SHINING. These range from the Native American artwork in the Overlook Hotel and the Calumet baking powder in its kitchen being symbolic of American Indian genocide; the recurring number "42" (a "42" on one of Danny's shirts, Wendy and Danny watching SUMMER OF '42 on TV, the total of 2x3x7 equaling 42) being representative of the Holocaust (conceived and implemented in 1942); an examination of sexual deviance via subliminal erections and phallic imagery in carpet patterns and other interior décor. There's also an examination of the perceptual shifts, spatial disorientations, and constructive inconsistencies in the Overlook, using detailed maps of what the hotel would look like in reality (the mention of the numerous "impossible" windows, rooms, and hallways and the presumably intentional continuity errors aren't unique to ROOM 237; check out some of "analysist" Rob Iger's "Collative Learning" videos on YouTube). Some of the theories are surprisingly persuasive, but the more some of these people talk, the more crackpot their opinions start to sound. When one subject starts angrily rambling on about how THE SHINING is Kubrick's confession to his complicity in faking the Apollo 11 moon landing (or, rather, insisting that while we did put a man on the moon, the footage was actually shot by Kubrick on a soundstage ahead of time), you realize the guy's gone from a largely reasonable potential interpretation of a film's subtext into a full-on tinfoil hat meltdown.
The mysteries of THE SHINING are endless--what is up with the scowling looks from hotel manager Ullman's assistant Bill Watson? Does he represent the sinister forces of the Overlook while Ullman is just the smiling, glad-handing guy out front? Why is Jack reading an issue of Playgirl in the lobby of the Overlook?--and a brief foray into the "SHINING Forwards and Backwards" presentation (a piece of visual art that actually played in several cities after ROOM 237's release) opens up a whole new can of worms. Sometimes the interview subjects are just flat-out wrong and simply talking out of their asses, with one saying that Kubrick had actor Barry Nelson (as Ullman) wear a toupee that made him look like JFK, when in fact, it was the same style of toupee that Nelson always wore as he got older. Nevertheless, ROOM 237 is one of the best films about a film you'll ever see, regardless of how much you buy into the things being said. As many times as I've seen THE SHINING, I still find something new every time I watch it, and if you have anything approaching the affection for it that I do, ROOM 237 is required viewing. (Unrated, 103 mins)
SIMON KILLER (US - 2013)
Some of the creative personnel from 2011's acclaimed MARTHA MARCY MAY MARLENE were involved in this enigmatic and equally intriguing character piece that didn't get nearly as much attention in the indie scene. After earning his graduate degree in neuroscience studies, Simon (Brady Corbet) goes on a trip to Paris where he's trying to get over a painful ending to a long relationship. Prowling the red-light district, Simon goes to a sex club and meets Victoria (Mati Diop). After paying for sex a few times, Simon ends up crashing at her apartment and a real relationship seems to blossom. Little by little, writer/director Antonio Campos (with story contributions from Corbet and Diop) shows the increasingly complex layers of Simon's personality and before long, it's apparent that he's at best an unreliable narrator. The title might be an indication where things could head, but we realize something's not right when Simon intentionally drags his knuckles across a concrete wall and tells Victoria that he was attacked in the street by some punks. He gets increasingly clingy with Victoria and even manages to rope her into a foolish blackmail plot involving her clients. Simon is the kind of guy who says "I'm gonna need some money because I'd like to buy you something" and somehow gets away with it.
SIMON KILLER is one of those films with a vague resolution that's intentionally left open-ended. Opening with a stunning panoramic shot of Paris, it's beautifully shot throughout, augmented by one of the year's best soundtracks. I really liked the overwhelming sense of loneliness and isolation that Campos conveys in the early-going with Simon, ear buds in place, lost in his own world and everyone around him staring blankly at their smartphones. Campos really captures the decadent, "after dark" feel of some sections of Paris that the city's tourism board doesn't promote, and his frequent strobey dissolves between scenes create a chilling feel that comes off like a restrained Gaspar Noe. Corbet and Diop are terrific in this cold, standoff-ish, and often unsettling film, filled with uncomfortable confrontations and some surprisingly explicit sex scenes. It's a film that's definitely not for everyone, but if you're open to it and give it some time and space, it's one that slowly and surely gets under your skin. (Unrated, 105 mins)
Directed by Stanley Kubrick. Written by Howard Sackler. Cast: Frank Silvera, Paul Mazursky, Kenneth Harp, Steve Coit, Virginia Leith. (Unrated, 62 mins)
Almost from the time it was released, Stanley Kubrick (1928-1999) disowned his debut feature FEAR AND DESIRE (1953), dismissing it as "amateurish." Rumors persisted for decades that he'd had as many prints of it as possible rounded up and destroyed, but a few managed to survive in private collections, and once the film fell into the public domain, there was little he could do to bury it completely. It was considered a lost film for many years, and was never officially released on home video, though copies could often be found on the bootleg circuit. It's been shown at various film festivals over the years (most notably at Telluride in 1993), and ran on Turner Classic Movies in late 2011, but with Kino's new HD restoration (from a Library of Congress print), Kubrick's feature films are finally represented in their entirety on DVD and Blu-ray.
Kenneth Harp as Lt. Corby, with
Frank Silvera and Steve Coit
FEAR AND DESIRE isn't likely to earn the top spot on anyone's list of favorite Kubrick films and frankly, it's not very good. But for those with a passion for cinema history as well as Kubrick obsessives, it's fascinating to see some classic themes and motifs make their first appearances. Running just past an hour but often feeling like three, FEAR AND DESIRE follows four soldiers stranded behind enemy lines after their plane crashes. They wander around, talk, find a mute woman (Virginia Leith), and bind her to a tree with a belt. Three of them--leader Lt. Corby (Kenneth Harp), Sgt. Mac (Frank Silvera), and Pvt. Fletcher (Steve Coit)--go off to build a raft, leaving the woman with the shaky Pvt. Sidney (future filmmaker Paul Mazursky), who's just about to snap. Through a convoluted set of circumstances that involve character stupidity and some horrid acting by Mazursky, Sidney ends up killing the girl and disappearing, and the other three decide to take out a pair of enemy officers at a nearby compound. The fact that Harp and Coit also play the two enemy officers makes for one of the most ham-fisted anti-war statements ever committed to film.
Virginia Leith with Silvera
Kubrick shot FEAR AND DESIRE without sound, with the dialogue post-synched later, and it often makes things awkward. Silvera acquits himself well being the most experienced member of the cast (he would also star in Kubrick's next film, 1955's KILLER'S KISS), and the light-skinned Jamaican character actor would go on to a busy career playing nearly every ethnicity imaginable before his accidental death in 1970 when he was electrocuted while trying to fix the garbage disposal unit in his kitchen sink. As Corby, Harp is impossibly wooden and Coit is more or less just there, but young Mazursky, who would go on to a stellar career behind (and occasionally in front of) the camera (directing BOB & CAROL & TED & ALICE, AN UNMARRIED WOMAN, and DOWN AND OUT IN BEVERLY HILLS, among many others), is an absolute embarrassment as Sidney. He's so bad that he's actually hard to watch. The film picks up noticeably once Sidney wanders off midway through and the others decide to take out the enemy officers. The enemy commander (played by Harp, who's far more interesting in this role) is the first of many military madmen in Kubrick's filmography, and you can draw a straight line from this character to George Macready's General Mireau and Adolphe Menjou's General Broulard in PATHS OF GLORY (1957), Sterling Hayden's General Jack D. Ripper and George C. Scott's General Buck Turgidson in DR. STRANGELOVE (1964), and arguably R. Lee Ermey's Sgt. Hartman in FULL METAL JACKET (1987). And in regards to JACKET, Sidney is certainly an early incarnation of Vincent D'Onofrio's Pvt. Pyle. The recurrent "dehumanization" theme of much of Kubrick's work is demonstrated in its infancy here as well. But when Corby and Fletcher see the two enemy officers and see that they look...wait for it...just like them!, it's far too obvious a point and the kind of rookie mistake that Kubrick probably had to make to mature into the great filmmaker he would soon become.
Kubrick on the set of FEAR AND DESIRE
Kubrick had been working as a photographer for the magazine Look when he decided to pursue filmmaking, first helming a few documentary/industrial short films before attempting a feature film. FEAR AND DESIRE was shot for roughly $30,000, and funded mostly by Kubrick's pharmacist uncle/associate producer Martin Perveler, with additional financial assistance from a life insurance policy cashed in by Kubrick's father. Held to the lofty standards of Kubrick's subsequent films--most of which rank among the greatest ever made--FEAR AND DESIRE is decidedly quite amateurish. But there's flashes of creativity and style that even the few 1953 critics who saw it managed to notice. The film features some unique lighting and some inventive camera angles and it's clear that this young filmmaker has some potential. That potential would be realized just two films later with Kubrick's 1956 breakthrough THE KILLING, which didn't generate much box office, but earned some significant critical acclaim and had a fan in Kirk Douglas, who was so impressed by it that he agreed to star in PATHS OF GLORY, and the rest is history. Just seven years after FEAR AND DESIRE, Kubrick was directing the gargantuan epic SPARTACUS.
Kino's Blu-ray presents the film in its original 1.33:1 aspect ratio and for a 60-year-old film shot with what amounted to pocket change, it looks amazingly good in HD. The sole extra is THE SEAFARERS, a 1953 promotional short (running just 28 minutes) that Kubrick directed for the Seafarers International Union. By this point, Kubrick quit his job at Look to focus full-time on filmmaking, and he took the SEAFARERS gig to fund what would become KILLER'S KISS. Unlike FEAR AND DESIRE, there are no embryonic signs of the distinct Kubrickian style. Rather, it's strictly a director-for-hire job, showing the benefits of joining the SIU, and it's hosted by popular news personality Don Hollenbeck, who would commit suicide a year later (Hollenbeck was played by Ray Wise in George Clooney's GOOD NIGHT AND GOOD LUCK). THE SEAFARERS is the kind of industrial/promotional short that MST3K would knock whenever Tom Servo would bellow something like "Industry! 3M! Combining innovation with effective risk management!"
FEAR AND DESIRE won't generate much interest beyond devout Kubrick completists. But if you've got the Kubrick Blu-ray box set from Warner, and the Criterion editions of PATHS OF GLORY and THE KILLING (which features KILLER'S KISS as an extra), then it's definitely worth picking up to have essentially everything (minus a couple of those early industrial shorts) done by arguably cinema's greatest filmmaker. Just know going into FEAR AND DESIRE that everyone has to start somewhere. But even that early on, you can tell the wheels were turning.
