Looker (1981)

Looker (1981) is not a perfect film or maybe even objectively a good one, but if you have an appreciation for the aesthetic and vibe its throwing out there, it becomes a memorable experience. Directed and written by Michael Crichton, there’s a familiar sci-fi set-up with a mysterious corporation hiding a dark secret, and the incorporation of advanced technology of the here and now (by which I mean 1981) that is quite prescient about advertising, digital trickery and image-based control. Contemporary viewers have also described Looker as having “Vaporwave” aesthetics, which I have to agree with; I can imagine this playing silently with throwback synthwave if Barry DeVorzon’s own synthieser score wasn’t so compelling (Com Truise even cut-up Looker for one of their music videos). California beachfronts, private medical offices, sleek corporate hallways, commercial TV sets and pixelated computer visuals; Looker is a mix of era-appropriate fashions and older special effects. This is a movie where the hero protects himself from harm by wearing a pair of wrap-around reflective shades. Albert Finney plays Dr. Larry Roberts, a successful plastic surgeon who notices that several patients – all models – are asking for specific measurements. When they start mysteriously dying, Finney finds a connection to an advertising firm called Digital Matrix with ties to a billionaire played by James Coburn. Protecting one of the newer models, Susan Dey, Finney investigates while being chased by corporate henchmen. When the “light-gun” is introduced, a new weapon that hypnotises a person and causes them to lose time, this kicked the movie up a notch, particularly some great sequences involving its deployment. Finney is a bit miscast – you can imagine a Michael Douglas at this time being more suitable – but he does ground things with his commitment and seriousness, boxy haircut and all, similar to what he did in Wolfen. The climax, set in an early version of a green screen studio as characters fire at each other through televised TV commercials, manages to be goofy, eerie and captivating all at once, particularly powered by DeVorzon’s mounting synth score that sustains the tension. While it never reaches the height of other conspiracy techno-fear corporate body horror thrillers like Videodrome or They Live, and remains a destined to be forgotten curiosity, there’s still something here for sci-fi fans, particularly if you’re happy to soak in the vibe it produces. Rented on iTunes. Recommended.

Hard Times (1975)

On a Walter Hill kick, I revisited his directorial debut, Hard Times (1975; aka The Streetfighter), which I remember as being very decent and on rewatch, remains very decent. Set in Depression-era New Orleans, Chainey (Charles Bronson) steps off the train looking for work. Coming across a bare-knuckled boxing match in a warehouse, Chainey throws in his talents with a manager, the fast-talking Speed (James Coburn) who sets up the “pick up” fights they can earn money from. There’s a leisurely, unhurried pace to the movie and the dynamic between the taciturn, reserved Bronson and the garrulous, showboating Coburn is entertaining (a classic ‘buddy movie’ pairing that would reappear in later Walter Hill movies like 48 HRS). The fights are very effective, though the choreography and impact feel like they are from the preceding era; a hophead doctor is employed (played by the delightful Strother Martin) but we don’t see him work much with little blood or physical damage in evidence on Bronson’s indomitable, mythic character. There’s a good sense of place in the New Orleans setting with era-appropriate music performed throughout from gospel singers in churches to jazz bands in bars; the film’s tone isn’t as rollicking or nostalgic as The Sting nor is it as downbeat or depressing as Thieves Like Us. It’s a tough world where you can only rely on your fists and your independence – and maybe a little loyalty in the end. Jill Ireland co-stars as a penniless dame who Bronson’s character is interested in. Hard Times is an efficient, solid boxing drama with quasi-western genre moves as befitting Hill’s continuing interests as an action auteur, aided considerably by the talents of Bronson and Coburn. Available to rent/purchase on iTunes. Recommended.

The Last Of Sheila (1973)

When Rian Johnson was doing the press rounds for Knives Out and discussing “Whodunnit” influences, one title he would offer, which I’d never even heard of before, was The Last Of Sheila (1973). It has the distinction of being written by actor Anthony Perkins and musical composer Stephen Sondheim, and apparently based on Sondheim’s love of parlour games and staging mysteries for celebrity friends. The plot concerns a successful Hollywood producer (James Coburn with his toothy grin at full devilish beam) inviting his less than successful Hollywood friends to his yacht for a week of games. It’s one year since his wife Sheila was killed in a hit and run accident, and the tragedy becomes part of the game playing. His guests – a stacked cast including Richard Benjamin, Joan Hackett, Dyan Cannon, James Mason, Raquel Welch and a young sexy Ian McShane – start to suspect there might be an element of revenge to the twisted festivities. There are lots of witty one liners, lovely seaside locations, stylish 1970s fashions, and complicated twists as things get murderous. There’s also a few strange attitudes that are either cultural artefacts of the era or represent a very cynical take on Hollywood by the writers (without spoilers, one character’s disturbing criminal past is met without comment or reaction). Directed by Herbert Ross, I had a great time watching this alongside its peculiar turns and its jaded denouement. Available to rent on iTunes (though the sound mix is a bit tinny). Recommended.

Duck, You Sucker/A Fistful Of Dynamite (1971)

A long running gap in my Sergio Leone movie watching was the one with two titles – Duck, You Sucker (1971) aka A Fistful Of Dynamite has always been underrated or not as celebrated. Maybe because it doesn’t have Clint Eastwood or Charles Bronson? Instead you have James Coburn with an Irish accent as an IRA explosive expert and Rod Steiger playing a Mexican bandit leader – despite the initial stereotypes, they make a compelling team in their hard-won partnership. What begins as a profane spaghetti western slowly morphs into a war movie as Leone and his writers use the genre to comment on the fight against fascism in World War II within Italy as well as the human cost of revolution. A clear influence on something like Inglourious Basterds while having expensive set pieces that nobody could surpass these days, it’s a long ramshackle epic, buoyed by Ennio Morricone’s score, which is surprisingly kooky and mellow though often soaring with great melancholic emotion. If you’re a fan of spaghetti westerns or Sergio Leone, it’s available to stream in Australia on Stan.