R.W. Fassbinder's sob story about an illbred homosexual sideshow performer, "Fox, the Talking Head" (played by Fassbinder himself), who lucks into a lottery jackpot and is bled dry by his deceitful, prissy, upper-middle-class lover (as Fox crams a piece of coffeecake into his mouth, his social superior sneers, "If you're …
There is no hint in the early going (neither in the title itself nor in the stagy, seemingly endless boudoir comedy between a proper Boston widow and a leery bank robber) of the form and tone which this expansive tall tale means to attain, by and by. Before you realize …
A series of motiveless murders committed by various residents haunts the streets of New York: a sniper shoots people from a water tower a father murders his entire family and a cop (Andy Kaufman) opens fire during a St. Patrick's Day parade. The only consistent pattern to the crimes involves …
A surreptitious lobby for the repeal of the 55 mph speed limit on U.S. highways. Its argument is that speed, or even a smash-up, is a lot of fun. Michael Sarrazin, Tim McIntire, Raul Julia; directed by Chuck Bail.
A political thriller of nebulous sympathies, set someplace in the Third World and populated by tyrants, terrorists, foreign business investors, and a pair of mercenaries formerly of the U.S. Marines. There is nothing in the course of this flippant male-camaraderie action movie ("You love it as much as I do," …
This murder mystery by Francesco Rosi is pure make-believe, but it is like a skeletal version of the director's based-on-fact investigations (Salvatore Giuliano, The Mattei Affair, Lucky Luciano) -- the bare bones without the distinguishing features. The abundance of detail that Rosi unearths when he is excavating an actual case …
Get the margarine; it’s a low-rent Last Tango In Paris. Broodingly handsome gay garbage collector Krassky (Joe Dallesandro) strays from his volatile lover and partner in asepsis (Hugues Quester) and in the direction of Johnny (Jane Birkin), a boyish and beleaguered waitress he encounters working behind the counter of deserted …
Sarah Bernhardt's early career -- her unequivocal debacles and equally unequivocal triumphs -- is re-created by an all-British cast whose classy limey accents set the high-culture tone of the project. Everything about this loosey-goosey biography reminds you of moviemaking circa 1936, except that instead of Katharine Hepburn, you get Glenda …
Dominique Sanda as a Gilded Age gold-digger whose serpentine scheme to get her hands on the fortune of a miserly retired baker (Anthony Quinn) takes her first through the bedrooms of the old buzzard's two disinherited sons. Aside from maximizing Sanda's opportunities to slip out of her clothes, the logic …
The Boy Wonder of silent movies has been reduced to directing stag films downstairs in his own home, while the sounds of freeway construction, off in the distance, threaten imminent destruction. Some of the feelings for Hollywood's Golden Age and for the dilemma of the commercial artist, sullied but still …
It has, coincidentally, a few things in common with mere pornography: the almost nonstop lovemaking; the unwavering ardor and infinitely renewable energies of the lovers; the perfect, lithe, perspirationless bodies of the actors; the flattering, orange-y Playmate of the Month lighting; the voyeuristic, anti-psychological point of view; the standard themes …
In flight from a sexist boss and a philandering husband, Yvette Mimieux takes off cross-country in her Pacer, but loses her car in redneck country to two hitchhikers with an automatic handgun. For this indiscretion, the local police throw her in jail, and things go from bad to worse thereafter. …
A film noir by John Cassavetes, who, as he has little feel for atmosphere and tension and the like, is not particularly cut out for the job. But as he has much feel (and outright embraces and chummy punches on the upper arm and so forth) for actors, he enables …