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Thursday, November 16, 2006Fear Without Frontiers
Horror Cinema Across the Globe
2003, FAB Press. Edited by Steven Schneider.
Fear without Frontiers covers much of the same material that was presented to readers in Mondo Macabro, but with a significantly different approach. The subject matter is horror, fantasy, and phantasmagorical thrillers from all over the world, with essays contributed by a host of different authors. Most of what you expect (if you are a fan of such films) to be present, is: new wave Hong Kong horror films, Italian zombie and giallo films, Takashi Miike, Coffin Joe -- still puttin' scorpions on chubby ladies after all these years. There are also chapters about Bollywood horror films from the 1980s, Filipino horror, and the new wave of Korean horror and thriller films. These are all welcome inclusions, and even if the material has been documented to various degrees elsewhere, there is plenty of new material to make the chapters well worth exploring. Where Fear without Frontiers really starts to excel is when it's delving into material that is rarely written about in English-language publications. Chapters on the films of Jorge Molina and Paul Naschy respectively are both welcome examinations of filmmakers who have never really gotten the same level of attention as cult darlings like Dario Argento and Lucio Fulci. And I admire anyone that tries to tackle the films of Alexandro Jodorowsky in a way that makes any sort of sense at all. While the chapter on giallo is expected, what isn't is the amount of time it spends on more obscure (at least in the United States) titles, rather than the usual suspects from Dario Argento and a few select others. And a few topics were entirely unknown to me: the Edgar Wallace krimis, a chapter on incredibly cool looking Mexican horror films from the 1930s, Austrian psycho movies, polish horror -- Fear without Frontiers is so packed with great stuff that at time sit almost becomes too much to process! The book is split into three sections based on the types of articles. Part one focuses on individual filmmakers, part two revolves around film cycles, and part three looks at general genres. And then Miike and the "Dark Angel" films from Japan get their own section. Although the articles vary in tone, they remain consistently high in terms of their quality and worth to anyone looking for more information on the obscure nooks and crannies of horror cinema from around the world. Although the book isn't written as a comparison and contrast of cinema from different parts of the world, it certainly serves as such if the reader is willing to put the whole picture together. The essay approach to each topic means the book can cover a lot of territory, though most of these chapters deal with topics that could easily become entire books of their own (I can't believe no one has written a Coffin Joe book yet -- I reckon they're afraid he'll show up one night in his spooky cloak and put a spider on them). As was the case with Mondo Macabro, you're often left hungry for even more information and greater detail on the subjects. I always like a film book that inspires me to go out and launch a search for the films discussed within it, and Fear without Frontiers certainly provides plenty of additions to the "must find list." Luckily, the DVD market seems committed to releasing a lot of these films, so as long as you have Internet access and a multi-region player, finding these phantasmagoric films is easier now than it used to be (the bulk of 80s Bollywood horror remains MIA as of this review -- though the Mondo macabre DVD label seems to be poised to rectify the situation -- and most Turkish films are still only available on VCD with no translation). In addition to volumes of information and critical analysis, Fear without Frontiers is jam-packed with beautiful illustrations, including several full-color glossy pages reproducing promo shots and poster art. If you're the type of person who likes to spend time exploring the far-flung reaches of global cinema in search of the weirdest stuff you can imagine, Fear without Frontiers is an absolutely essential -- not to mention entertaining and well-written -- sampler platter of what's waiting for you. Labels: Film Studies posted by Keith at 4:23 PM | 0 Comments Monday, November 06, 2006For Your Eyes Only
By Ian Fleming. Copyright 2002 (Reprint), Penguin Publishing.
The first story in the anthology, "From a View to a Kill," is a swift-moving and straight-forward story that has nothing in common with the movie by the same title, other than it being set in France. When a government courier turns up dead, Bond is sent in to investigate and unearth (quite literally) a rose bush full of spies hidden in the woods. There's nothing wrong with the story, but there's also very little to it. It's a pretty simple and routine case for Bond, and as such, there's not much in the way of suspense or, frankly, reasons to read the story. It is the very definition of a time waster. The action, so to speak, continues with "For Your Eyes Only," which is the best and worst story in the collection, if you ask me. Best because it presents Bond with the sort of moral dilemma and challenges we expect from the novels; and worst because it is so full of potential that it never realizes. Bond is simply not a short story character, and in no place is that more apparent than in "For Your Eyes Only." When two friends of M are murdered in Jamaica, he asks Bond for a favor: kill the man responsible. This isn't a government sanctioned job. It's a vendetta. And it takes Bond out of England and drops him into the wilderness of the U.S. - Canadian border for a story that feels more like something out of a Matt Helm book. I like the change of scenery, and the moral implications of taking the job are intriguing. Unfortunately, in short story form, they can't be fully explored. The end result is a short story that reads like the synopsis of a much better novel. If you were to read any story from this book, though, this would be the one I would recommend. "Quantum of Solace" is the most pointless entry in the entire compilation. I can only assume that someone, at some point, told Ian Fleming this story, and he decided to write it down and throw in a couple sentences that have Bond saying, "Do go on," so Fleming could sell it as a Bond story. While in Jamaica, Bond has dinner at the governor's mansion, and the governor tells Bond a story about a guy. So not only is Bond not really in the story, but the guy telling the story is barely in the story. It's really not a bad story, mind you, but it has absolutely nothing to do with Bond, and forcing Bond into it, quite literally as a character who does nothing more than sit on a couch and listen to another man tell a story, is a cheap way to wring a little extra money out of the name of James Bond. It's like if Fleming had forced a the line, "As they rattled down the street in their chugging jalopy, they very nearly ran down James Bond,' into Chitty Chitty Bang Bang then tried to market it as a James Bond story. I really don't need Fleming writing down the cocktail party chatter he overheard then selling it to me. As you might guess, not a fan of "Quantum of Solace," though the story the old governor tells is OK. I might pull an Ian Fleming and tell it at my next cocktail party and pass it off as my own. Bond actually returns for "Risico." The movie For Your Eyes Only was a blend of the short story with which it shares a title and this story. "For Your Eyes Only" is definitely the better of the two, as "Risico" presents us with the one thing that can sink any thriller: a mystery or twist that is neither a mystery nor a twist. From the beginning, we know exactly what to expect, and that's exactly what Fleming delivers. Nothing more, nothing less, and nothing very interesting. Like "From a View to a Kill," this story is a time waster. It's not so bad to read, but there's no point, and it won't be one you'll remember or want to reread. It's another story that might have been better if it had become a novel. Instead, it feels once again like we're reading Fleming's notes, and not a completed project. But if it's all been a bit tedious up to this point, nothing can prepare you for the story that brings this disappointing collection to a close. I don't know what sucker bought "A Quantum of Solace," but an even bigger sucker must have bought "The Hildebrand Rarity," another story which seems to be a completely different story that Fleming forced Bond into for marketing reasons. Once again, the hero of the secret service is merely a minor character, an observer. But where the story in "Quantum of Solace" was at least interesting, this story is just irritating, and I spent the entire brief read shouting at the page sin hopes that it would inspire Bond to get up off his ass and give me a reason for reading the story. He didn't come through. Bond joins an expedition that is sent out to locate an extremely rare fish. This brings him into contact with an obnoxious American boat captain who whips his wife with a stingray tail. One suffers through page after page of this overblown lout berating and beating the woman, hoping at the end of every sentence that the next one will herald Bond onto the scene to whup some ass. Nope. Instead, Bond shrugs it off and just hangs out in his hammock, taking absolutely no role in the action. It actually makes Bond supremely unlikable for the duration of the story, as his inaction in and flat out absence from the story means he seems like a guy who doesn't mind an innocent woman getting whipped nearly to death by her drunken husband. It also means that we have to spend the bulk of the story with the abusive husband and his wife engaged in a supremely grating "marriage gone sour" tale. What's worse is that the comeuppance the story eventually gets around to delivering is amazingly weak. It seems like Fleming was just rambling on for a while, repeating the same thing over and over until his deadline hit, and then he threw in an unsatisfying wrap-up out of nowhere and called it a day. If I wanted to stretch and try to find something good to say about this book, I'd go with the somewhat shaky assertion that they are little slices of James Bond's life during the less spectacular times. They have the potential to flesh Bond out a little by delving into the smaller moments in his life. Unfortunately, except for the unrealized potential of "For Your Eyes Only," there's not much in any of the stories that would add anything to Bond's character. If nothing else, For Your Eyes Only illustrates that you can be a Fleming fan and a Bond fan but not like everything Fleming did in the name of James Bond. Two stories with potential, one that is neither good nor bad, and two that have practically nothing to do with Bond or the Bond universe don't make for a very satisfying read. As much as I hate to do it, I would tell most people to stay away from this collection. Savor the final page of Goldfinger, then skip directly to Thunderball without getting sidetracked by the disappointing diversion of For Your Eyes Only. If Fleming was bored with Bond, there are plenty of things he could have explored that would have been worth reading; but apparently none of those occurred to him at the time he was writing any of these short stories. For Your Eyes Only is like a CD full of outtakes and demos. It certainly wouldn't be a good spot to begin one's education on all things James Bond, nor would it be a decent sampler of Fleming's talents as a writer. Some men can write a short story, and some can't. This collection of tales suggests that Fleming was firmly planted among the latter type of men. If Goldfinger was Fleming surviving on decently-executed formula, then the collection of notes and literary doodles passed off as short stories in For Your Eyes Only represents something much worse: Ian Fleming floundering. Labels: Author: Ian Fleming, Espionage, Series: James Bond posted by Keith at 5:21 PM | 6 Comments Goldfinger
By Ian Fleming. Copyright 2002 (Reprint), Penguin Publishing.
Goldfinger, at least the movie, is really the James Bond film that set the standard for most of the Bond films that followed, to say nothing of the hundreds of cheap (and often enjoyable) knock-offs that came out during the 1960s. Although Doctor No and From Russia with Love were both big successes, it was Goldfinger that seemed to resonate most with copycat filmmakers around the world. Goldfinger the novel comes late enough in the series that it isn't the historically important work that the movie was, except perhaps for being the source material for the movie that had to be made before people like me would ever be allowed to enjoy Kommisar X films or Lightning Bolt. And once again, we find out that the movie follows the book very closely, with the only major changes being an increased role in the movie for iconic Bond girl Pussy Galore (who, in the book, is overtly referred to as a lesbian, where as her sexual orientation is just barely hinted at in the movie) and a different death for main villain Auric Goldfinger and equally iconic henchman Odd Job. After being sent through the ringer physically during Doctor No, a book which sees Bond abused by everything from hot plates to giant squid, he gets to take things relatively easy this time around, as the bulk of the story involves Bond embarrassing eccentric millionaire and suspected SMERSH operative Auric Goldfinger in a series of encounters. The opening of the book is very similar to the opening of Moonraker, as Bond is approached by an acquaintance who thinks he is the victim of a card cheat. In this case, the location of the game is Miami, and the cheat is Goldfinger. This chance meeting coincides with a lengthy lecture from an Ian Fleming stand-in about the global gold markets. As I've said before, I'm pretty sure every Bond novel is structured around some conversation about someone else's profession that Ian Fleming had during a party. The ins and outs of the gold business are a marked improvement over the last book's in-depth look at guano markets. The Bank of England suspects Goldfinger of being a big time gold smuggler; Bond and M suspect additionally that said gold might be going to finance SMERSH activities. Bond tales Goldfinger across Europe in an attempt to ascertain exactly what it is the man is up to, and eventually uncovers a plot he finds almost too far-fetched to believe: with assistance from the elite of the American criminal underworld (including the members of some gangs we last saw in Diamonds Are Forever), Goldfinger plans to rob Fort Knox. It is a pretty outrageous scheme (more than a few characters say so), but Goldfinger is adamant that despite its reputation, Fort Knox is still just a bank, and any bank can be robbed. Some of Goldfinger feels like a refined version of something from a previous book. The gold smuggling reminds me of the diamond smuggling in Diamonds are Forever, while the Bond versus Goldfinger card confrontation is, as I said, similar to the showdown between Drax and Bond in Moonraker. Similarly, I thought the golf match between Bond and Goldfinger was slightly reminiscent of the baccarat game in Casino Royale, but with considerably smaller stakes. Really, I might just be making that last one up. It is a bit of a stretch. After all, Bond seems to love besting his opponents at games far more than he does simply solving the case. One almost gets the impression that if Bond could spend an entire holiday motoring around Europe and randomly showing up to best Goldfinger at golf or cards or Twister, then he would be satisfied with that and forget entirely to solve the case to which he was assigned. But if parts of Goldfinger seem retooled from previous books, it's easy to roll with it since Goldfinger is just so much fun. It strikes a fine balance between the grueling action of Doctor No and the breezy touring holiday feel of Diamonds are Forever. Goldfinger is a fine villain, and what he lacks in the way of physical intimidation is more than made up for by the seemingly indestructible Odd Job. Not since Red Grant has Bond faced so imposing a foe, and not since Live and Let Die has Fleming's description of a minority character been so cringe-worthy. I can't remember if he states that Koreans are a step above or a step below apes, or if he just says they are on the same level, but whatever the case, it isn't going to win him many Korean fans. I've always stated that there are more constructive things to do with one's time than get ruffled feathers over unflattering racial slurs in a fifty-year-old book, so I can just roll with it. The other key player in the drama is the improbably named Pussy Galore. The biggest difference between the book and the movie manifests itself primarily in the treatment of Pussy Galore. She's a minor character in the book, who happens to play a key role in the finale. She's also flatly identified as a lesbian, where as in the movie it's maybe slightly hinted at but never overt. Where the book and movie coincide, of course, is in the firm belief that lesbian overt or implied, all you need is James Bond to come swaggering by to set you straight. Odd, isn't it, that Fleming's lesbian is so into Bond, yet his two openly gay characters (Wint and Kidd from Diamonds are Forever) showed no sexual interest in him? So in the world of gay rights according to Ian Fleming, we can't assume that all gay men lust after all men; however, all lesbians just need a roll in the sack with a real man. Or something. Honestly, Pussy Galore's lesbianism isn't all that important part of the story. It's just an excuse for Fleming to delay the inevitable while he surrounds Bond with lesbians and wannabe lesbians. And that, my friends, is the most times I've used the term "lesbian" since my last nunsploitation movie review. If Goldfinger has a weak point, it's the same one that slightly marred Doctor No, and that's the lead female character. Pussy Galore is the interesting female this go-round, but she's not the lead. That title falls upon Tilly Soames, a character so forgettable that, well, I forgot all about her and had to look her name up. Fleming was remarkably hit or miss with his female characters, and Tilly is definitely a mark in the "miss" category. She sure as heck isn't Gala Brand or Tiffany Case. And neither, for that matter, is Pussy Galore, though Fleming attempts to infuse her with the same sort of tough talking femme fatale traits he used to far greater success for Tiffany Case. Other problems keep Goldfinger from being as strong as the past few books had been. Goldfinger's scheme to rob Fort Knox never seems the least bit believable, and one wonders that anyone ever thought h could pull it off. This was apparently the result of Fleming not understanding the logistics of how Fort Knox works (a problem Sean Connery was vocal about, to the benefit of the film, during the shooting of Goldfinger). The reader never gets the sense that Goldfinger might succeed. I mean, we know he's not going to, but you shouldn't go through the whole thing without feeling some suspicion that he might pull it off. We knew Hugo Drax wasn't going to blow up London, but his scheme was still believable. Same with Julius No. Fleming was at his best when he kept the aspirations of his villains tied to some semblance of reality -- which is why as of Goldfinger, Katanga from live and Let Die was still his best villain. The plan to rob Fort Knox is so half-baked and forced down our throats as believable, that it crosses into the realm of fantasy. I get the idea that the entire book really was based around some article Fleming read about international gold markets, and while he was working on that, he heard something about Fort Knox and decided to cram that in as well. The book would have been better served had Goldfinger been confined to being a major funder for SMERSH operations -- but then, I guess that book was called Live and Let Die. Still, none of this is to imply in any way that I didn't enjoy reading Goldfinger. It's a fun, if a bit outlandish, adventure. Fleming is in good form. Goldfinger boasts an expert pace and an engaging plot. I know as an author he struggled with Bond burn-out early in his career, but for this go-round, his familiarity with the character really works to the story's advantage. We don't get much in the way of new insight into Bond, but we do get an expected character well executed. Even the extended golfing showdown was a lot of fun. And as I said earlier, after sending Bond through the meat grinder in Doctor No, it's nice of Fleming to give him a bit of a respite this time around. Not that he's going to get off totally scot-free, mind you. Odd Job is waiting around there to beat him senseless from time to time. Despite that, though, most of the book feels like it's another "Bond on a lark" adventure. Goldfinger is a breeze. On it's own, it might seem a tad weak, but when you read it immediately after finishing the darker, more violent Doctor No, it works wonderfully as a counter-balance. It's a good book; just not a great book. Labels: Author: Ian Fleming, Espionage, Series: James Bond posted by Keith at 4:21 PM | 0 Comments |
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