SO DARK THE NIGHT/MY NAME IS JULIA ROSS: Arrow's Blu-ray debut of two gems from Joseph H. Lewis

OK: one of these films -- MY NAME IS JULIA ROSS -- has maybe got not so many carats, but it still offers a lot of good, old-fashioned mystery fun.

The other, however -- SO DARK THE NIGHT -- is a compelling little diamond in nowhere near the rough. It is such a stylistic gem, in fact, that TrustMovies suspects only the unduly delayed rise of filmmaker Joseph H. Lewis (shown below) into the pantheon of important movie-makers is responsible for its too-little-known reputation.

Lewis could work in just about any genre but may best be known, particularly after the current Blu-ray release of these two films, for his near-film-noir endeavors. Most movie buffs know Gun Crazy, certainly one of the filmmaker's best and most original works, along with The Big Combo. But his noir-ish western Terror in a Texas Town also deserves a place at the table.

As a kid I was particularly taken with Lewis' The Undercover Man, and A Lady Without a Passport, and much later his war film, Retreat, Hell! Once Lewis moved over to television, never to return to films, I rather forgot about him and his work. Thankfully, Arrow Academy/Arrow Home Video is bringing Lewis and that fine work back into our sites and sight.

My Name is Julia Ross stars an upcoming Nina Foch (above), quite good as the smart and energetic young lady trying to find a decent job in postwar London. To give away almost anything about the plot of the film risks major spoilers, so I'll just say that the movie is awash in mystery of the what-the-hell-is-going-on? variety and features some witty and delightful performances from a terrific supporting cast that includes the likes of Dame May Whitty (below), while offering up a mother-son relationship that is surely one for the books.

The black-and-white cinematography is crisp and bright in this beautiful new transfer, and as usual with Arrow product, the "extras" are definitely worth viewing, in particular the background to and analysis of the film by The Nitrate Diva (Nora Fiore). Ms Fiore stretches her theories a bit, but what she has to say is often fun and worth hearing.

My Name is Julia Ross runs but 65 minutes and was clearly meant to be "filler" on the second half of a double bill. But it proved popular enough to be itself be a hit for its studio (Columbia Pictures) and thus gave Lewis the opportunity to work on other, more important films. From Arrow Films, distributed here on the USA via MVD Visual, the movie arrived on Blu-ray earlier this month and is available now for purchase and (I hope) rental.

One of these "more important" movies for Lewis -- and one of the director's best -- was So Dark the Night, which, among other things, gave the well-known character actor, Hungarian-born Steven Geray (shown at right and below), a role the likes of which he would never again see, and which he filled so well that, had our always-nonsensical Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences been paying any attention to "little" movies, this fine actor would have garnered a nomination, if not the Oscar itself.

Filmmaker Lewis creates here an almost shockingly charming beginning, as our hero, a famous and very bright Parisian detective goes on vacation to a small provincial town where he hopes to relax and forget his cares. Are we surprised when trouble brews?

Not at all, but what holds us for so long is how delightful Lewis makes this town and its citizens -- almost so French-ified that they come close to cliche -- yet with something just a little bit "off." Lewis also manages a feat that few film directors ever dared: He shows us what's wrong with that typical Hollywood relationship between an older man and girl 30 years his junior.

All the sweetness and charm soon evaporate, once murder after murder arrives. You will imagine you've nailed the killer, but don't be too sure. By the end of this highly unusual, profoundly sad film, you and our hero will have gone places neither of you ever imagined.

Running only 71 minutes, So Dark the Night hit the street earlier this month via Arrow Academy, distributed here in the USA by MVD Visual. It's available now for purchase and (I hope) rental. Again, the Bonus Features are first-rate -- even better than those on the My Name is Julia Ross disc. And why not -- for this is by far the superior movie.

On Netflix streaming, Camille Bordes-Resnais and Alexis Lecaye's very dark, then-and-now revenge series, THE CHALET

When I first read the description of the French Netflix series, THE CHALET (which, fortunately, the streaming service has since rewritten), it sounded like a fairly typical, Agatha Christie-level, And Then There Were None rip-off. Instead, it is a much darker, deeper exploration of the kind of appalling greed and us-versus-them mentality that can rob people of any trace of humanity.

This is an extremely well-executed example of a story -- puzzling, mysterious, suspenseful and exciting -- of the what's-going-on and why? variety that involves two generations and spans time periods that range over twenty years.

The build is slow, but steadily fascinating, as a family from the big city comes to a tiny village set in a gorgeous mountain location. The father (Manuel Blanc, above) is a writer working on his second novel, with his wife, young son and even younger daughter (below) accompanying him.

The village is insular to a fault, and the villagers, some of whom are seen below, do not appreciate these intruders, who hope to relocate here. Tourists are one thing -- they help pay the bills -- but something permanent? That is quite another matter.

That's the past, taking place in 1997. The present, 2017, sees a kind of "reunion" happening, as the children of the past (below and further below), now grown into young adulthood, decide to spend a long weekend together.

As we soon learn, revenge is on someone's mind. But for what, exactly? All your questions are eventually answered, and very well, and the answers unveil some of the darkest, ugliest impulses and actions of which we humans seems capable.

In the large ensemble cast, there are at least a dozen major players, with each actor cast extremely well cast and delivering a first-rate performance. One of the great strengths of this series is how much we come to like and understand so many of these characters. Consequently, when we lose them, this loss genuinely registers. (This is nothing like the usual, pick-off-the teenagers-one-by-one slasher movie.)

The single character we feel the least for -- and for good reason -- is the grown-up (sort of) Sebastian, played with undiminished ferocity and cluelessness by the excellent Nicolas Gob, above.

Most of the actors here seemed new to me, save Thierry Godard (above), who has starred in the popular French series Spiral and A French Village. But I hope to see all of them again, as well as view whatever new work Camille Bordes-Resnais, the director/co-writer (with Alexis Lecaye), comes up with.

Meanwhile, The Chalet -- lasting six episodes, each one around 52 minutes -- should prove a must for fans of sad, unsettling mystery/revenge tales. It streams now via Netflix.

February's Sunday Corner With Lee Liberman: BIG LITTLE LIES

At an awards ceremony in late 1917, Nicole Kidman attracted some notice for her demonstrative kiss of co-star, Alexander Skarsgård, before she mounted the stage to accept her award. After watching Skarsgård play her sadistic spouse in BIG LITTLE LIES (BLL), this viewer enjoyed seeing Kidman differentiate in public between the abuser who suffocates her with violence and the actor who plays the part. (Skarsgård perfected this M. O. as a particularly memorable vampire in HBO’s True Blood, a much wider-ranging vehicle for his acting chops.)

This ingenious and surprisingly well-crafted, seven-episode series is many things: real estate, lifestyle, and violence porn plus a murder mystery. The NYT reviewer Mike Hale called it a “compendium of cliches about upper-middle-class angst.” But its slickly designed surface (often referenced by the automatic rise of a shade on a picture window exposing a gorgeous rolling expanse of ocean that begins each episode) is package gloss.

BLL carefully constructs the package beauty and then leaps beyond Desperate Housewives angst to seduce with absorbing drama.

 Adapter/screenwriter David E. Kelley (at left), director Jean-Marc Vallée, and cinematographer Yves Bélanger, play a neat trick: They dazzle the audience with drool-worthy excess and then slowly unspool everyday domestic miseries that blot out the beauty of sparkling sun, glinting waves, and glass-walled houses (as below, the home of Laura Dern’s character, Renata).

This creative threesome purposely shows that good writing, direction, and some breathtaking images can reduce the campy trademarks of TV melodrama to wallpaper in the face of a carefully-spun, compelling story. The tension between enviable lives and suffering over the minutiae of daily life seems to be the modus operandi here. (Are these folks so ill-tempered because their sense of entitlement has raised their expectations too high?) At any rate, the viewer is unwittingly drawn into these characters’s lives, ignoring their apartment-size kitchens and their ocean vistas to instead mindfully attend to the troubles they are muddling through.

The book on which the series is based was written by Liane Moriarty, an Australian, whose novel of suburban angst is domiciled in suburban Sydney. It was a NYTimes best seller, as have been other novels of hers. Kelley places Moriarty’s story in ocean-front Monterey, California.

The story involves five women, their six-year-old first graders, their spouses, therapists, teachers, nannies, neighbors, and the police. (Below, the kids -- from l: Ziggy, twins Josh and Max, Amabella, Skye, and Chloe.)

Celeste (Kidman) is a perfect beauty and accomplished lawyer who stays home with her twin boys at handsome husband Perry’s (Skarsgard) needy urgings. They are caught in a cycle of passionate sex that grows increasingly violent (that is, Celeste turns Perry’s violence into sex as a means of pretending their coupling is not abuse but over-heated love-making). Busy-body Madeline (Reese Witherspoon, shown at right, two photos above) is on her second marriage and has two daughters — cherubic little Chloe and teenager, Abigail, from her first marriage; her life is a bit dull but she diverts herself with community projects and friends whom she mother’s. She is best friend’s with Celeste but takes up with newcomer Jane (Shailene Woodley, below) who has just moved to Monterey and lives in a tiny bungalow where she sleeps in the living room, giving her sweet-natured boy, Ziggy, the bedroom. Jane has a secret that she eventually tells Madeline — her son is the result of a rape that actively haunts, leading Jane to keep a gun under her pillow.

Renata (Laura Dern) is a high strung Silicon Valley executive who rants that her professional success makes everyone hate her and rages even more that her little girl, Amabella, is rumored to being bullied by Ziggy at school and yet no one is calling him to account. Bonnie (Zoë Kravitz) is a peace-maker, a ‘fruits and nuts’ yoga instructor married to Madeline’s ex-husband, Nathan. Their daughter, Skye, is friends with Chloe, and Bonnie and Nathan strive to co-parent Nathan’s daughter Abigail from his marriage to Madeline (Bonnie and family below). The relationship between the two families is fraught, to say the least.

The focus rotates among the households dwelling on one or another bit of domestic angst, but it gradually sharpens its scrutiny on the violence between Celeste and Perry, in which a therapist intervenes with more than usual insistence to explicitly warn Celeste of real threat to her well-being from Perry’s escalating rages.

There are two Greek-like choruses to these doings. The chorus of police launch the first episode and recur intermittently right up to the closing image in the series, seeking to solve the murder and remaining suspicious of the characters (through binoculars) even after the case has been resolved. Police activity alternates with a second chorus of friends and neighbors who gossip about the main characters.

Despite the choruses’ intermittent reminders that we have a murder here, the viewer barely pays attention, distracted by the daily interactions among the couples and their children. Then -- in the most satisfying resolution of who, what, and why -- we discover who was bullying Anabella, who is dead and how it happened. Kelley pulls the plot strands together in a few short moments consisting mostly of exchanged looks among the women and one resolute gesture, proving that a who-done-it can resolve itself with a completely satisfying, surprising, yet believable conclusion.

The story here, despite deliberately misleading cues, has not been about a murder at all, but about the day in/day out interactions among the women based on loyalty and affection, mixed with daily irritations and mistrust. Witherspoon’s Madeline, for instance, is bossy and irritating (Elle Woods 20 years later), so much so it was touch and go whether I would survive the first episode, but as we come to know her in different circumstances, a sympathetic and generous woman emerges from the package gloss. Laura Dern’s character, Renata, is even more shrill and unpleasant but she softens surprisingly when she gets new facts. Celeste emerges from semi-self-delusion to take control of her life. The group of women come together not as a group of victims or belligerents, but in a moment of collective understanding and mutual support, validating Hillary Clinton’s adage: It takes a village. 

Perhaps because the resolution was so swift and satisfying, talk of a second series has been marked with ambivalence — this gem can’t be topped; best let it stand on its own. However, screenwriter Kelley sought and received direction from Liane Moriarty in the form of a novella that gave him some guidance about where the characters are headed, and he has already completed a second set of episodes. Kidman, Witherspoon, Dern, Woodley, and Kravitz have reportedly already signed on or are in negotiations. Meryl Streep will join the cast as Perry’s mother.

I admit to having resisted watching this series having been there/done that with the contemporary suburban melodrama thing. But its star-power and award-winnings led me to want to find out what made it land in Time’s top tv shows of 2017. It turns out to have justified itself as a well-conceived enough puzzle, dressed up as suburban melodrama, to intrigue the average soap-ignorer. Nevertheless, I'm not sure I care enough for these people to watch another seven episodes about them, even if I sincerely admire Kelley’s previous work and this impactful and clever piece of plot-making.

Big Little Lies streams on HBO, with Season 2 due to air in 2019.

The above post was written by 

our monthly correspondent, Lee Liberman.

Snappy, gorgeous Blu-ray debut for Argento's sophomore effort, THE CAT O' NINE TAILS

As crisp and gloriously transferred as many of these new Arrow Video  Blu-rays so often are, the company's new one of THE CAT 'O NINE TAILS -- the second full-length film to be directed by Italian giallo maven Dario Argento -- is of a piece with so many of this fellow's films: sub-par plot and storytelling but with enough of the then-necessary amounts of violence and murder to sate the audience's appetite. What really nails this release, however, is its nostalgic time frame.

Released in 1971, the movie, seen today, proves a delirious walk down the memory lane of that era, with its fashions, home furnishings, hair styles and all the rest on major display. And with the stunningly produced new Blu-ray, with images as crisp as you could want and colors so rich and deep you can practically swim in them, this more than makes up for the usual, not-so-hot Argento story-line.

As with his earlier Bird With the Crystal Plumage, the filmmaker uses a couple of well-known stars of the day in the lead roles -- this time it's James Franciscus (above, right) and Karl Malden (above, left) -- abetted by an international cast (mostly Italian, of course) in secondary roles.

The movie begins well enough, with a burglary in which nothing seems to have been taken, followed by a murder (to keep that burglary quiet), and then another and another and so on. The setting -- one of them anyway -- is a genetics laboratory, and so naturally those tricky little X's and Y's come naughtily into play.

The movie may have been the first to tackle the theory that a certain X-Y combination results more often than not in violent tendencies, and so, of course, something must be done about the folk who carry this combo. (Spielberg's Minority Report is a more futuristic example of this sub-genre of "how-do-we-handle-possible-troublemakers?")

Being an Argento movie, however, little time or thought is given to morality or philosophy. Instead, the set-up is simply an excuse for multiple murders (above and further above). With a single exception, these are not nearly as bloody as other of this schlock-meister's oeuvre as, more often than not, they involve garroting via a very thin rope rather than using knives or hachets. (Argento's best film, Deep Red, has more gore, depth and a much more interesting plot.)

Unmasking the killer, too, is usually a lot more fun than it proves here (Oh, it's that one? Big deal.) And getting there is also a bit of a slough. Mr. Franciscus, above, plays a handsome journalist, while Mr. Malden, below, essays the role of a blind man and puzzle expert into whose care has come an orphaned child, who will become the final pawn in the murderer's game.

Early on, some time and trouble is given to Malden's ability to hear better than sighted folk, but then that ball is mostly dropped, too, as the corpses pile up. Along the way, we do get a few moments of genuine suspense now and gain. One of these -- more heavily manufactured than necessary --  involves some poisoned milk (below) and who is going to sample it.

The female lead is played by Catherine Spaak (above, and in pink further above), who fills the beauty bill just fine, while managing the acting stuff adequately. The better-than-average musical score comes from Ennio Morricone, and the little bit of humor present comes from a talented fellow named Gigi who is very good at breaking-and-entering.

Coincidence abounds, as is usual in the giallo genre, and we also get the kind of florid finale that movies so seldom give us anymore. The film is also casually homophobic, which was rather de rigeuer in the early 1970s. (The Dirty Harry sequel, Magnum Force, arrived just a couple of years later.)

The Bonus Extras and Special features included are of the usual Arrow Video plentitude and range from a fold-out poster and several lobby card reproductions to a limited edition booklet, Italian and international theatrical trailers, interviews with Argento and his co-writer, a commentary track, versions of the film in both English (with subtitles for the deaf and hearing impaired) and Italian (with English subtitles), and of course the new 4K restoration of the film in a high-def Blu-ray 1080p presentation.

But, really, it's the last one that matters most. I swear you can count the threads in some of the sweaters and carpets you'll see here -- the film looks that crisp and sharp. And dig that crazy wallpaper above, which is either Jackson Pollack- or maybe Jellyfish-inspired. Oh -- those 70s!

From Arrow Video, distributed here in the USA via MVD Entertainment Group and running a too-long 112 minutes, Cat O' Nine Tails hits the street this coming Tuesday, February 13 -- for purchase, of course (you get all those "extras), and I would hope also for rental.

Jamie M. Dagg's sophomore effort, SWEET VIRGINIA: good cast, good score, so-so movie

SWEET VIRGINIA, the second full-length feature from director Jamie M. Dagg, bears more than a passing resemblance to this year's much better mystery, Wind River. For starters, Jon Bernthal acts in both: here in the leading role, in Wind River playing a supporting part. Both take place in out-of-the-way locations and feature a murder mystery at their center.

But in Wind River, the theme of justice is paramount; Sweet Virginia, a much more manufactured concoction, is content to connect its dots via the father of the film's "villain" being a big fan of its hero, an injured-and-thus-retired rodeo cowboy named Sam Rossi. The connection is tenuous at best, silly at worst.

So be it. And since we must, in all fairness, deal with what we have, Sweet Virginia does offers a number of pluses. Director Dagg, shown at left, has assembled an excellent cast, a good musical score (by brothers Brooke and Will Blair), and a number of scenes that pack in enough suspense, mystery and drama to keep us hooked.

The biggest problem -- other than there seems to be no ongoing investigation by authorities of the triple murder that begins the movie (one scene, hell, even one shot, of something like this might have set our minds to rest) -- is the exceedingly coincidental quality of the tale told here.

That cast, though, is a very good one. Led by Mr. Bernthal, above -- who currently seems to be the go-to guy for "strong silent type" roles and is here able to communicate with few words a depth of feeling and caring that helps considerably in keeping us attached to the wobbly plot -- it also includes another excellent and upcoming young actor in the role of Bernthal's ambivalent antagonist,  Christopher Abbott (shown below) of Hello I Must Be Going and James White.

Our hero's main squeeze, a lately widowed woman, is played by the fine Rosemarie DeWitt, below, while the always interesting Imogen Poots (two photos down) has the role of the character who sets the story in motion: a three-year unhappily married woman (also recently widowed by that multiple murder) who does not, it turns out, possess a whole lot of smarts or morals. The women, as so often happens in American movies, play a distinct second fiddle to the guys.

The screenplay and dialog for Sweet Virginia were written by twin brothers Benjamin and Paul China, and the Chinas prove good at plot machinations without undue exposition -- even if, as noted above, those machinations soon begin to seem more manufactured than organic. (I did miss some of the mumbled dialog toward the beginning of the film, however. I suspect this was due less to the actors than to the sound quality of the streaming link we critics were sent, in which ambient sound and musical score occasionally overpowered dialog.)

The very dark cinematography, coupled to the location shooting (said to be Alaska but filmed in British Columbia), the musical score, and low-key performances of characters who are themselves all pretty dark and unhappy, combine to bring a finale that features some violence and blood (but not enough to qualify as gore).

From IFC Films and running a just-about-right 93 minutes, Sweet Virginia opens theatrically tomorrow in New York City at the IFC Center, (and maybe elsewhere, too), as well as simultaneously via VOD.