Unlocked: Bloom of Youth Gone?

 DATELINE: Spies Who Came in from the Heat

bloom Fading Bloom?

Unlocked is a gender-bender spy tale in which the producers take a routine story and make the hero a heroine, casting the burned-out case of an agent from man to woman. In this case it is Noomi Rapace or is that Roomi Napace?

You can’t tell CIA agent without a scorecard or iPO address.

She is a manly girl, and so is her butch boss, Toni Collette, playing one of those MI6 supervisors in conflict with her American counterpart in the CIA, John Malkovich.

There is some deadpan humor evident, but the main point is whom can you trust? And is anyone really dead?

Don’t make any bets.

Michael Douglas is Noomi’s mentor in a few clipped scenes. He takes a clip or two more than once.

Orlando Bloom looks haggard and covered in tattoos to diminish his once-boyish charms as some kind of thug-cum-wish-come-true.

Yes, there are twists galore and violence unremitting as we try to figure out who the terrorists are and why they are so sympathetic. It seems their cell in London wants to downplay terror attacks in multi-cultural London.

We recall the days when it was New York City that was the melting pot, but times and spies change the war terms.

The film is utterly brazen in its attempt to create a franchise, following the exploits of this female James Bond hopeful. Most of the cast likely could return in one role or another as the spies who loved each other.

 

 

Please Murder Me! TV Titans in Film Noir!

DATELINE: Perry Mason Meets Murder, She Wrote!

TV titans

When Perry Mason meets Jessica Fletcher, we have a murder mystery donnybrook, she wrote. Murder Me Please is a surprise of the first magnitude. Who knew?

In 1956, fresh off Godzilla, Raymond Burr took on another role in which he spoke into a tape recorder while murderous film history was made around him. It was likely this movie role, heroic and protagonistic, that won him the lifetime achievement as lawyer Perry Mason. This is his first true Perry Mason role.

Here, he must defend a woman he knows is guilty of murder—and live with the consequence of exonerating a danger and menace.

His nemesis is Angela Lansbury, looking all too femme fatale before moving into matron roles. Here she gives one of her last great villain acting jobs (culminating in Manchurian Candidate).

This film noir is so dark during the first 15 minutes that you want to scream at the screen to turn on a light.

It is classic 50s nighttime in Los Angeles among the upper-classes. The supporting cast is gem-laden:  Dick Foran is the cuckold husband, and John Dehner is the Ham Burger to Burr. Young Lamont Johnson is the callow artist in his final acting job before going on to direct movies.

This is a Peter Godfrey picture, meaning it is stylish and professional, before he slipped into directing routine television anthology shows.

The fireworks between Burr and Lansbury are worth your time. It was a forgotten B-picture in its era of 1956, with far more interest today as a sign of great actors having a field day.

One problem is the print of the movie, clearly abused by time with scratches, lines, and other distractions coming from careless handling of the prints. Yet, the film itself transcends with its harsh, hard-knocks, noir crime thrills.

Lansbury and Burr would become TV icons as Fletcher and Mason, but that is mere promise in this movie. This is acting war.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hostiles: Not So Friendly West

DATELINE: How the Western Is Lost

 Bale's beard Bale’s Beard

A few more Westerns like writer/director Scott Cooper’s Hostiles and the Western will be killed unceremoniously, gutted “from stem to stern” as they repeatedly say in this movie. And don’t smile when you say that, pardner.

Though we might make a comparison to John Ford’s The Searchers, we’d be way out of line. Though Ford’s John Wayne classic dealt with Indian massacres and brutal revenge, it was also human in its emotions and veered away from tedium in the stunning Western settings.

Christian Bale is a laconic cavalry captain who participated in a massacre of native Americans at Wounded Knee—and now in his final assignment must take a hostile chief and his family to a Montana sanctuary by order of the President.

Constantly prattling on that he merely follows orders, he is prepared not to follow these orders. Yet, this hero is like a good Nazi soldier, doing only his job. Cruel violence pockmarks the storyline amid the tedium. All we hear is discouraging words.

In the older Westerns, you had some likeable characters and some sense of humor to keep sane in the desolate West. Here, the characters are driven mad by their dour natures.

The Captain rescues a woman whose family has been killed by Comanches, and she joins the odd caravan through desert and mountain settings. Along the way we meet Ben Foster as a nasty Indian killer (apparently along to re-team Bale from their successful work in 3:10 to Yuma). Also along briefly is young star Timothy Chalamet, wasted mostly as an inexplicable French horse soldier out west.

Costars are impressive actors like Wes Studi, Stephen Lang, and Scott Wilson. They give the film true grit, however unhappy their roles are.

Bale is so laconic that his imperial beard has more life than he. Not a twitch from that mustachioed hero

The film is so serious about its political messages, all mixed up with revisionism and apologies, that we recognized the genre only in fleeting glimpses. The movie is in the long run, long and predictable.

 

 

President Bone Spurs Marches to a Different Drummer

 

 

 

DATELINE: Peach of an Impeach

Dumb America Trump Supporter

Draft-dodging lowlife Donald Trump has relented to pressure from veterans across America  and has lowered the flag to honor Sen. John McCain.

We are resisting a call for a Pied Piper to lead the blind King Rat out of the swamp. We’ll settle for Michael Avenatti and a carving knife to cut off his tail.

After thumbing his nose at a six-term senator and five-year POW who was tortured for service in the United States Navy, the man with bone spurs in his head finally gave up his vindictive and petty action.

The White House has re-lowered the flag. Nothing can ever be as low as the lowlife who lives there this term.

There was, naturally, no apology with his proclamation, only a small proviso that he too honors Sen. McCain’s service. If you believe that, he will sell you slaves in s—hole Haiti.

Has the last straw finally been breached on this man whose mania now defies hiding? As a veteran, this blogger has never been more incensed. As a lifelong Republican, we can only marvel at the gutless Congress that cannot stand up to mental midgetry.

Hypocrisy knows no bounds when it comes to racism, sexism, and anti-military fervor. The man who wants a military parade to cost $100 million is not able to apologize for insulting a hero of the military. If we recall, he attacked the Gold Star parents of a soldier at his convention for their religious backgrounds.

We have reached a watershed, not a Watergate.

You cannot whitewash the White House when a blackguard lives there.

In Search of …Sinkholes

DATELINE: Pedestrian Hazard

Quintoinpit

One of the most mundane of topics for this series so far turns out to be one of the most terrifying, This may be due to the fact that a sinkhole opening up under your feet is far more likely than being abducted by an alien, falling into a time slip, or crossing paths with a sea monster.

Quinto’s series frightens us with the information that 25% of the earth we live on—land—is subject to sinkholes.

In case you don’t know, Florida and Missouri are the sinkhole capitals of America. Land o’Lakes, Florida, and their Chamber of Commerce may be a bit upset at this publicity. Your land may slip out from under you.

The many horrifying stories (one man opened the door to his brother’s bedroom—and he was gone, swallowed up) pile up. Sinkholes happen faster than the time to react. You may be falling and buried before you know what is happening. And forget rescue.

Historical sinkholes were thought to be the Devil’s handiwork, owing to their unpredictability. And, even with science of the 21st century, you may only have a slightly more expectation than being hit with an earthquake.

The sinkhole is smaller and more personal. You fall 300 or 400 feet down and the hole may open up to a football field size. A ton of debris will fall atop you.

Porous limestone is the culprit. One golf course found its waterhole turn into a sinkhole overnight.

The owner began excavating it to see what was below: and after 3 years, it looks like a mini-Grand Canyon. He takes Zachary Quinto down into the abyss and chasm. It is not safe.

A cautious producer pulls them out, but it’s not publicity stunt. A week later a pickup truck driving in the spot went down, almost killing the driver.

Once again, the series is a goldmine of information and suspense. You may not expect a mundane topic to provide you with a nightmare, but sinkholes are not to be searched for, or trifled with.

 

 

National Enquirer, Catching and Killing Bad News!

 DATELINE:  Laughing Pecker?

Laughing Cavalier Cavalier Enquirer?

Pick a peck of David Pecker.

Not since J. Edgar Hoover have we heard of “secret files.”

Well, they’re baaack!

David Pecker picked a peck of pickled poodle politicians. The peck of Pecker picks were pols who parlayed their hidden scandals into political careers, like Duncan Hunter (R) California, and Chris Collins (R) New York, your typical corrupt Congressmen now indicted and refusing the resign.

It appears that the owner of American Media, the National Enquirer dirt rag, and friend to Donald Trump, has a safe filled with signed “catch and kill” contracts. Mostly they are used to pay poor Pecker ploys and protect Trump loyalists.

Yes, the Laughing Peckerhead collects salacious stories and kills them by paying big bucks to whistleblowers—who cannot then publish their truth anywhere. It is how he protected Donald Trump from hookers, payoffs, illegitimate baby-momma stories, and heaven knows what other Russian mob ties.

Recently, Special Prosecutor Robert Meuller picked on Pecker for immunity for his pretty poison pens.

Now we learn that the spineless, gutless Congress may be filled with people blackmailed by Mr. Peckerhead who has dirt to keep them quiet. Yes, he catches and kills a scandalous tale and then turns around and sleazily demands obedience to him, not the United States Constitution.

It sounds like he has taken a page out of Putin’s compromising videotape series of Moscow nights with potty pee players.

Hoover was said to have files of recordings, depositions, and other evidence of wrong-doing at the FBI for decades, insuring his power.

If you have a whistle to blow, Pecker protects by paying to kill the catch and then turns around and demands a favor—like support Donald Trump (or be ruined by his private stash of stories).

Now we learn that David Pecker has picked a peck of peccadilloes out of the pockets of pusillanimous politicians.

Ancient Aliens: Rocky Roads

 DATELINE: Sacred Stones

winslow

On the penultimate episode of season 13, Ancient Aliens took a hard look at sacred stones: the kind that crashed into Earth from somewhere in the cosmos.

Those craters may have housed all kinds of life-giving or altering microbes.

Mostly these holy rocks seem to arrive out of the asteroid belt beyond Mars, but Ancient Aliens show has other ideas:  like they are the remnants of a planet that held life and was blown apart in a star war. If that sinister notion isn’t troubling enough, there were microscopic microbes on the remnants crashing into this planet.

That explains the mysterious sea creature called the octopus who seems to have no antecedent in the genetics of earthly creatures. It’s not a far cry from there to note that meteors may well be perfect shells to carry extraterrestrials around the universe.

Even better, NASA has a program to send our probes to other worlds on the back of a hollow meteor. Call it the Genesis Project, something right out of Star Trek.

Meteors can be our trans-receivers or information storage drives to go out boldly into the universe.

As often is the case, the theory has some truly frightful evidence: the Hypatia Stone came from out of this solar system and landed here with all kinds of superconductor qualities that cannot be natural.

Some of these rocks can levitate from their internal makeup of materials.

These visitors from another galaxy are called quasi-crystals and more than add up to ‘we are a Petrie dish’ for other creatures, made habitable by genetic engineering.

This season’s shows have been delightful.

 

 

 

M/M: Sexual Identity Thief

DATELINE:  Weird Sex Thriller!

m:m M/M

Drew Lint is a director whose name we will watch in the future. His effort called M/M refers to Matthew and Mattias, two trendy young gay men in Berlin. However weird, this is not your usual gay love story. It is more a story of bizarre sexual obsession and identity theft. It’s Strangers on a Train on steroids.

If Jean Cocteau were still making movies, this would be his updated Beauty of a movie. If Rene Clair were making movies, this would be his update of a Highsmith story. Drew Lint writes and directs this film that rises far above the usual fare of gay-themed movies.

Hitchcock dared to make a movie like this, without overt sex in Rope.

Dialogue is sparse throughout the film, but it is definitely international with dollops of French, English,  and German, often in minor conversation or background.

Matthew is an artist, and Mattias is a bademeister (or glorified pool boy). Mattias wants to become his near twin, and there is a Patricia Highsmith Purple Noon quality here.

Stealing your life and sexuality may be more daring than taking your purse.

Whether parts of the tale are a dream (as Mattias notes in the opening, he dreams of statues come to life), you may be left guessing. Since Matthew may be involved in computer sculptures, you have a connection.

The dream twins become more and more alike, which may be why they both are devotees of techno music. How Mattias comes to take over Matthew’s life is intriguing and almost expected from stalking.

If you are not squeamish about sexual peccadilloes, the deeper psychological by-play between the characters sexually will be part of the sophisticated puzzle of the movie.

Prepare for a roller-coaster of creepy psychological games.

 

 

Giancana: Recognizing Truth & Disbelieving Sam(e)

DATELINE: Unimpeachable Crime

sam Sam Testifies to Congressional Hearing!

Mobster Sam Giancana’s great nephew wrote and produced a documentary on the notorious and contradictory mob leader. It is fascinating and entitled: Momo, the Sam Giancana Story. If you wondered about an inspiration for The Godfather, here it is.

Giancana’s daughters oversaw the production and participated in giving personal details about their father.

What came out of the life of a Chicago mobster, one of the successors to Al Capone, is a dapper and dangerous figure who wanted to be a globe-trotting figure of celebrity. He hobnobbed with the likes of Frank Sinatra and was boon companion to Phyllis McGuire of the famous singing sisters.

He had tentacles everywhere but managed to keep his life compartmentalized. He was a kindly family man—and to his associates he was a bad-tempered businessman.

Reconciling the elements reaches a state of improbability that turns viewers into cartoon version of “Believe or Not!”

Giancana made deals with Joe Kennedy to make his son president. He made deals with the CIA to murder Fidel Castro for taking away the mob’s Cuban casinos. He made deals to run Las Vegas—and he was a man who liked to control influence over powerful people. He shared mistresses Judith Exner Campell and Marilyn Monroe in order to gain an advantage.

He had close ties to Jack Ruby, a mob nightclub owner in Dallas, who often did business for Giancana. One of Lee Harvey Oswald’s brothers was hooked into the New Orleans mob.

The stretch or reach of Giancana may be disturbing beyond having turned Oswald into a patsy and hired Chicago killers to murder John Kennedy, hired J.D. Tippitt to kill Oswald, and then had it all go awry.

On the verge of talking to a U.S. Senate committee in 1975, his flamboyant mob boss attitude perturbed more than a few in the criminal element who ordered him assassinated in his own home. His flashy style did him in.

With corruption so total and human nature so contradictory, the life of Momo Sam Giancana takes on a sense of reality that may have you shake your head in recognition and in disbelief.

 

 

 

 

Springtime for Trump

DATELINE:  Trump Sings & Dances!

springtime for trump

In the classic Ponzi comedy The Producers, the big Broadway musical number that did in the crooks was called “Springtime for Hitler”. They oversold the show, hoping it would flop and they’d walk away with tons of money. Manafort and Cohen are the new producers. They oversold Trump to the gullible public.

In Springtime for Trump, his investors (all Russian mobster types) expected him to lose—and make a big profit. Alas, he won—and the undoing of these producers is now unfolding. May they all wind up in federal prison where they can put on a show.

In Mel Brooks’ original version of The Producers, Zero Mostel was the overweight man with the appalling comb-over. In the White House today is an overweight man with an appalling comb-over. He is a bigger crook than Zero’s character.

Mostel’s producer would sleep with dozens of women to procure their investments in his musical. In Trump’s world, he pays off dozens of women with campaign funds and a crooked lawyer to guarantee his tenure in office.

The big musical number was meant to shock people: goose-stepping showgirls in formation, a la Busby Berkley, dancing in a swastika conga lines. Trump’s conga lines include words like “dog”, “lowlife”, and “rat.”

Alas, they all apply to the biggest shyster ever to sully the white White House where Nixon claimed there would never be a white wash.

After Trump is impeached, we may need to fumigate the place.

We laughed uproariously at Zero’s crook, and we fumed at Nixon’s crook. Trump’s crook is still lining up the chorus.

Cue the dancing girls: we are about to sing the refrain from Springtime for Trump.

 

Two Hitlers for the Price of One

DATELINE: Ancestry.DNA

Son & Hitler?.jpeg Son & Father?

Because we keep our Adolf Hitler dollops in one-hour documentary chunks, we are lumping two films into one review for your edification.

Hitler of the Andes and Hitler’s Secret Son share the bizarre fascination with the worst mass murdering dictator of the Reich. Both seem to deal with highly unlikely scenarios that have more than a little credibility.

Did Hitler live and survive the end of World War II, escaping to the Argentine to live in lavish seclusion? And did the man father a son in France during the first World War? The documentaries give us a resounding “yes!” for an answer.

The recent History series on Hunting Hitler has traced the path of this earlier documentary. However, it seems so unlikely that Hitler would subject himself to the claustrophobic suffering of a U-boat trip across the Atlantic. We prefer Bob Baer’s theory that the U-boats were gas stations along the route of seaplanes that landed, refueled, and gave Hitler a more comfortable ride.

If he made to the rural lands of Argentina, he would find Germanic friends and the lap of luxury. In the second film, we deal with the modern crisis brought on by DNA tracking.

In France, you need a court order for paternity DNA—and 40 years ago, a benighted man learned from his dying mother that he was Hitler’s son. In the 1970s Jean-Marie Lorret was another with 15-minutes of fame and celebrity.

His children, Hitler’s grandkids, alive today, have genetic testing to confirm or deny the connection that few people would want to publicize.

Indeed, some American-born Hitler relations have deliberately sworn to not having children to end the line once and for all time.

It is a horror story to put oneself in the shoes of learning that your father really is the worst human being in modern history. It makes for hypnotic and fascinating viewing, and the results are both a surprise and a cruel fate.

 

 

New Book Vindicates Ossurworld…Again

DATELINE: Aaron Hernandez Revisited

Laughing Cavalier

When given the choice between staying silent or beating a dead horse, you know what side we fall on.

Once again, vindication and bragging seem to have paired up in our blog. We were an early source to call out and simply out Aaron Hernandez, New England’s Billy the Kid cum Jack the Ripper.

Now his common-law wife has written the introduction to lawyer Jose Baez’s new book on Hernandez:  in it, she admits that Aaron likely maintained a secret gay life. He also wrote a suicide note to his prison gay lover. And more.

Other tawdry revelations likely will follow.

Of course, even in liberal Massachusetts, prosecution teams would not go forth with the gay angle for murder motives. We went there, tastelessly and fearlessly, during earliest moments of the trial of Hernandez.

Police felt investigating a gay lifestyle of an NFL player would boomerang against the case: jurors and NFL fans would never accept that notion about one of their gladiators of the gridiron. Backlash even hit us.

Never let it be said that “gladis” is a Latin term popular in gay circles way back when gladiators roamed the athletic arenas.

So, what comfort do we take from our book The Strange Case of Aaron Hernandez? Not much. Mostly we take royalties as it continues to sell.

In our book and original blog entries, we took the tone of outright indignation over his crimes: revealed that he led one victim to a sexual tryst that turned into a shooting a mile from Hernandez’s home at 3am. What does it all come-down to now? A cheap TV movie? Sensational  books by lawyers and hack journalists (such as we are)? Fake news?

It’s all info-tainment. We used to say that our professorial lectures in college classrooms were nothing more than an exercise in edu-tainment. And blogs are merely the tease, as performed by any self-disrespecting fool or cheap-shot blogger.

We stand by our book on Hernandez. It depicts what is akin to what passes for truth nowadays when Rudi Giuliani tells us that truth is not necessarily truth.

More Deadwood on TV

DATELINE: Return from the Ash Heap

olyphant

Word has reached us that David Milch, erstwhile Western producer, has decided finally to finish his notable series, Deadwood, with a TV movie.

It will tie up loose ends. The old HBO series starred beautiful Timothy Olyphant and John Hawkes with Ian McShane in a hilarious foul-mouthed turn as Swearingen the saloon town boss. There were more F-bombs C-suckers than could normally fit into a Marine Drill Sergeant convention.

The only problem is that they are tying up the loose ends 14 years after the last episode. It seems that we may be looking at the end of Deadwood from the front porch of the nursing home. Olyphant, as the hot young sheriff, is now 50.

Powers Boothe, one of the original stars, has long since departed Deadwood on the final stagecoach to heaven and the emerald forest.

Timothy Olyphant justified six years as deputy Rayland Givens on Justified in the meantime. And, co-star John Hawkes has become a well-known character actor.

We took in season one again (there were three increasingly shrill seasons) and found the streets as dirty as the language of the characters. For us the highlight was when Hawkes reminded Olyphant that his fly was open as he was about to leave their business tent. “Bad image for business,” he reminds his partner. Later, Ian McShane took a turn for witty and baddie.

You have a tomboy Calamity Jane in full drunk, and Keith Carradine killed off in 4 episodes as Wild Bill Hickok.

You may wonder too how much of the series is historically accurate. How accurate can it be with a 14-year hiatus between episodes? We are curious as to how this problem will be handled when filming begins in the fall.

The over-the-hill gang will return, sort of.

In Search of Time Travel

DATELINE: Your Time Slip is Showing
time
Zachary Quinto’s series continues to impress—with a general dollop of skepticism among his research in the latest intriguing episode of In Search of…. We are sent scrambling with no time to waste in time travel.

Taking on the notion that Einstein felt relative confidence about, Quinto talks to a man who claims he has indeed time traveled under the secret government program started by Nikola Tesla.

Yes, there are more Tesla coverups than versions of H.G. Wells’s Time Machine or The Philadelphia Experiment.

Quinto knows of what he speaks. After all, he did two movies in which, as Spock, he time traveled to meet Leonard Nimoy who also hosted this same series in the distant past.

We already feel like we have gone back to the good old days.

Quinto travels to Liverpool where incidents of “time slips” have sent individuals to different times and places momentarily. This apparently is caused by infra-sound (low frequency noise that harms or effects the brain). Theories abound in terms of paranormal, suggesting everything from other dimensions to ley lines. Ghosts may be time travelers, joining us, or causing us to join them.

Time, we learn, is an unknown, even moreso nowadays with the LHC and quantum physics changing the landscape of the universe.

Fear or strong emotion also has an impact on time’s passing—as Zachary discovers upon jumping out of a plane (with chute).

Of compelling episodes, this one manages to be scientifically based, even with one man claiming he was sent out under Tesla’s early work, and another who is locating places where the time slippage is commonplace.

Ancient Aliens 13.11 Trump Marks the Spot

DATELINE: A Couple of Space Balls!

space shots

When Ancient Aliens crosses the boundaries from space nightmare to political nightmare, you have something beyond controversy. It may be hard to swallow, but they have come up with a theory to explain President Trump’s Space Force.

Yes, recently, Trump proposed a new branch of military: a kind of space patrol, right out of sci-fi movies.

In this week’s “Russian Connection”, we have a new twist to Trump’s collusion—and little green men and alien grays are the least of your troubles.

Apparently, Russia is prepared to implant human brains into androids, robots, a la Westworld, which would not be possible under the American government. Trump may be throwing in with the Russians to create an army of digitized soldiers.

Our theory show now suggests that the US has ceded space to Russia because Freedom of Information and the free press are too much of a problem in the United States. It’s easier to control key information under the Russian flag. Hence, the US government is subjugating their powers to Putin’s space patrol.

If Ancient Alien theorists are correct, Trump is planning for a space invasion. Hence, he has met with Putin privately this year to prepare for big Trouble with a capital T: cue the Music Man.

Though the best minds believe we cannot win a fight against an enemy from outer space, you may not be able to convince Trump of that. He and Putin plan a gunfight at the OK Corral against Nibiru’s star troopers.

So, Russian collusion may have more connotations than money laundering and dirty political tricks. Ancient Aliens has always gone over the edge, but this time we may be looking at Trump’s Armageddon with aliens who don’t need green cards to invade the United States.