DVD Review: Helter Skelter

Given that in August it will be the 40th anniversary of the shocking Tate-LaBianca murders, it is as good a time as any to revisit Helter Skelter, which, after almost thirty years, still holds up its suspense and power well. This is easily one of the best made-for-TV movies, created back when there was an art to such projects (Roots, Duel, Frankenstein, The Reincarnation of Peter Proud, etc).

The obvious reasons for the film’s continued resonance are the facts of the murders themselves, as well as the man behind them. A murder story that had Satanism, bikers, hippies, Armageddon, constant orgies, Hollywood start power and a guru claiming to be Christ was a gift from above to lurid media and its purveyors. Charles Manson not only continues to fascinate and intrigue; his mix of fairly solid borrowings from Buddhism, Scientology and the then-nascent Environmental movement with a grim vendetta against the world (mostly women) who he blamed for all his problems still attracts crime fans as well as pathetic would be hipsters who think he’s cool.

The film is a fairly straight take the 1974 book about the case by prosecutor Vincent Bugliosi and Curt Gentry. Originally, the film aired over two nights in 1976, and was a smash hit. At the time, the film also caused a bit of a shudder, since it ended with the warning that most of the Family sentenced to life (commuted from Death when California outlawed capital punishment in 1972) would be eligible for parole in 1978.

Sparing you the details of a story too often told, I will say that the cast is amazing, especially in the passion they bring to the various roles. While George DiCenzo, a dead ringer for Bugliosi, has a lot of face time as the hero who nabs the evil one, is convincing and solid, it is Steve Railsback as Manson that makes this film endure. His crazed but oddly wounded take on Charlie, complete with hypnotic eyes and gift for foaming at the mouth invective, is haunting. Nancy Wolfe’s Susan Atkins is a bit over the top, but that is relative in a case like this. Also worth noting is the actor who portrayed Paul Watkins, the Family member Manson entrusted with procuring him women—or, as he liked to say, “new love.” Watkins was the one who Bugliosi interviewed about Helter Skelter, and it was Watkins who provided insight into Manson’s connecting The Beatles with the Book of Revelation for his eschatological master plan. That scene is one of the most powerful in the film, and one of the most genuine.

Even before the book and film, some cracks in Bugliosi’s theory were showing. Former Fug Ed Sanders’ 1971 book The Family explored the idea of a drug burn as motive, and also made more of a connection between Manson and the satanic group The Process. Still, it is Bugliosi’s account that stands as the historical record, despite what Charlie might say when he is paraded out in front of the cameras for an interview or parole hearing, or, when news is slower, someone decides to point a microphone in the direction of at large and still True Believer Sandra Good.

In 1976, with the horrors of the murder still fresh in the national memory, Helter Skelter made for gripping, uneasy viewing. While that factor may no longer be part of the experience, there is a power to the film and is undeniable and lasting.

DVD Review: Storm (2005; Breidablick films; Danger After Dark)

What is it lately with great movies that have bad titles? (I’m thinking specifically of Room of Death but there are others.) Anyway, make no mistake, Storm is a great movie, as must see, even. It is literate, raw, and in some cases, profound. Plus, as with the most of the truly profound, it is funny as hell.

The story begins with a red herring that only appears so. An action hero type woman is fending off some bald Goth bad guys in a tunnel, only to be overpowered and then confronted by their master, (played by Jonas Karlsson, the mysterious Man in the Black Suit), who demands the return of a small silver box she is holding. She escapes his torture, gives the box to another similarly dressed for battle woman, and runs back into the fray to fend off the baddies.

Storm was directed by Mars Marlind, who keeps the atmosphere dark and rainy, adding a noir-ish feel throughout. Most of the film was shot in Stockholm, Vanersborg and Trollhattan (sometimes known as “Trollywood”).

We are then suddenly jumped into the life of Danny (Eric Ericson), a perverse, sarcastic Swede, a dissolute journalist who likes to drink, jerk-off—to avoid relationships—and basically brood alone. We follow his jaundiced summary of his life, told in Tarantino-style with pop-art touches, until his paths cross with Lova (Eva Rose), who is still fighting, and whose battle has now entered the real life of Danny’s world. It soon becomes apparent, however, Lova is more than she seems—is she a ninja? An angel? A comic book hero come to life? It is also apparent that Danny is more than he thinks he is; we soon learn that the curious battle being fought is over him.

Without giving away the truly inventive and poignant action that ensues, suffice it to say that from that point on the film is a rush of spiritual warfare, complete with all sorts of choices that have eternal consequences—or do they? At least, they show that the past, is not gone and, in fact, as Faulkner said, it is not even past.

Storm is little gem of a film that deserves a wide audience, who will be blown away by the visuals, the writing, and the fresh take on an old but enduring meme. It is a quiet masterpiece of Magical Realism.

Short Film: The Grand Inquisitor

The Grand Inquisitor, from Underground Film: "A film by Eddie Muller. Legendary blacklisted Hollywood actress Marsha Hunt makes a stunning return to the screen in this haunting short film that writer-director Eddie Muller describes as 'a noir fairy tale,' based on actual events. A young woman (Leah Dashe) discovers a cache of used books she believes hold clues..."

Labels: short film

DVD Review: Un Chant D'Amour

Long banned or heavily edited, this legendary transgressive short masterpiece is finally available in the States in its complete form. As the only film directed by poet, playwright, novelist, criminal and Saint Jean Genet, it naturally is saturated with images and emotions even his own overheated writing could rarely evoke. Un Chant D'Amour, first released to condemnation in France in 1950, is a dreamlike yet proud exploration of homosexuality and freedom, with both the body and the imagination as eternal vehicles for attaining that freedom.

Essentially this is a romance in hell. There are three characters. Two prisoners, in adjoining cells, alternately ignore one another and desperately try to connect. They try to swap flowers through the window; they blow cigarette smoke suggestively to each other through a glory hole in the wall. When not obsessed and aching for the other’s body, the men obsess over their own. Masturbation and fantasy are here acts of defiance and salvation. A later fantasy sequence still doesn’t establish that they were lovers prior to incarceration—maybe they have entered each other’s dream, or have come to share a single hope.

The third character is the prison guard, alternately voyeur and tormenter, yet always a self-hater. His shame and cowardice is exposed by the freedom with which the inmates express their sexuality; though caged, they are more liberated than he. His anguished, torn nature symbolizes many of the conflicts explored in the film: the prison as house of passion and pain; the secret as public; tenderness/brutality; tension and release, etc. his impotence is made manifest in one of the most famous scenes in underground cinema, in which he slowly inserts his pistol into a prisoner’s mouth, using his authority to act in a way his body will not or cannot.

While it has mostly been a movie more read about rather than actually seen unless in shredded form, Un Chant D'Amour certainly played a heavy role in the visual vocabulary of directors like Guy Maddin, early Todd Haynes (whose Poison referenced this film explicitly), and even the early ugly beauty of David Lynch. On the flip side, Genet owns quite a bit of stylistic props to that other defiant Gallic polymath, Jean Cocteau; the haunting, soft, poetic lighting and reliance on the small gesture in Cocteau’s films Beauty and The Beast and Blood of a Poet certainly influenced Genet here. It is a stunning, raw, uncomfortable visual message, one that has love and passion, the universal drives, as its core.
The DVD also comes with a documentary on Genet by Antoine Bourseiller, as well as an audio commentary feature by Kenneth Anger. The documentary, shot during Genet’s last days, finds him as defiant and holy as ever. The DVD is available from Cult Epics.