Culture Shock 08.29.13: Don't feel compelled to rent 'Compulsion'

With a title like "Compulsion," a film is bound to elicit unfair comparisons to Roman Polanski's "Repulsion."

Apart from their near-homonym titles, each centers on a mentally unstable woman trapped in her apartment, and both hint at traumatic childhood abuse. But there the similarities end.

Where Polanski's film is a disturbing thriller, "Compulsion," directed by Egidio Coccimiglio from a screenplay by Floyd Byars, strives to be a dark comedy. Unfortunately, it is only intermittently dark and in no way comedic. Or maybe it isn't supposed to be comedic, in which case it doesn't know what it's supposed to be. Perhaps a cooking show.

The other comparison is to the movie on which "Compulsion" is based, director Cheol-su Park's 1995 film "301/302," which is dark, but intentionally not comedic. At least I don't think so, unless something was lost in the translation from Korean.

Instead of "301/302," the American remake's producers opted for a generic and overused title, which is our first warning sign.

Heather Graham ("The Hangover") is Amy, an aspiring TV chef for whom food is love. Amy looks like she walked out of a 1950s advertisement for the home of the future. She wears sunny floral dresses, her hair is always perfectly shaped, and she always smiles.

She also has a well-off boyfriend, who pays to outfit her kitchen with all the latest culinary toys. But it's clear she isn't getting what she needs from him emotionally. So, she retreats to her cooking and her fantasy life, where she is a famous TV chef, telling a million housewives how to whip up a meal that will spice up not only the their dinner tables but their love lives, too.

Perhaps she did walk out of an advertisement.

Amy lives in Apt. 301, and across the hall in 302 lives Saffron, played by Carrie-Anne Moss ("The Matrix"). Saffron is a former child actress who has aged out of stardom and now finds it almost impossible to get work. Instead she writes a column about sex and relationships, secretly using Amy and her boyfriend for material. But that plot element goes nowhere, and it seems just a vestigial remainder from the South Korean original, where the woman in 302 is a writer, not an actress.

When Amy discovers who Saffron is, Saffron becomes another of her obsessions. Amy, coincidentally, has been a fan for a long time, and she tries to win Saffron's affection with food.

There is just one problem: While Amy seems merely delusional, Saffron has darker demons running around her head, and they manifest as an eating disorder. Saffron literally cannot eat anything without her body rejecting it.

The film misses the opportunity to say something meaningful, while keeping with its foodie theme, by not juxtaposing Saffron's anorexia to Hollywood's obsession with near-skeletal thinness. It's the one thing that could justify transforming the character from writer to actress.

The woman who substitutes food for love and the woman traumatized into starvation are locked in a battle of wills, in which Amy's lifelong obsession with the child star seems an unnecessary distraction. The two function better as equals, which Amy can't be when she reverts to a schoolgirl with a crush.

Graham delivers a performance that winks at the audience. In her kitchen fantasies, she talks to no one and to us at the same time, making us complicit in her delusion. But Moss plays her character straight, as written. She seems to be in a different movie, an actress out of place in a world populated by fakes. Too bad this film doesn't explore that either.

Perhaps the film Saffron is in is a better one.

"Compulsion" (R) is available on DVD (currently at Redbox) and video on demand.

Someone is remaking 'The Devil's Nightmare'

HorrorNews.net reports on an open casting call for a remake of the 1971 Eurohorror classic The Devil's Nightmare.

I consider the chances of this remake, now reportedly in pre-production, ever happening still very much in the air. The producers have a Kickstarter page set up to solicit funding, and they also have a Facebook page.

The original Devil's Nightmare is another one of the first Eurohorror films I ever saw. Like The Ghost Galleon, which I mentioned, coincidentally, in a post last night, I first encountered it on USA's late, lamented Saturday Nightmares show.

Remakes almost never turn out well, but I think I'd get a kick out of someone remaking a relatively obscure old favorite of mine like this.

Here's the spoileriffic trailer for the original:

Culture Shock 11.19.09: AMC's new 'Prisoner' tries to undermine the 1960s original

The original. Accept no substitutes.

If Patrick McGoohan were still alive, I think his response to the people behind the remake of his classic 1960s TV series "The Prisoner" might go something like this:

"Unlike me, many of you have accepted the situation of your imprisonment and will die here like rotten cabbages!"

That's what McGoohan's character, Number Six, told his fellow inmates in an episode of the original series. But it applies equally to the writer and producers of AMC's six-episode remake, which aired over three nights earlier this week. AMC's version doesn't just fail to grasp what the original was all about. It deliberately subverts the message McGoohan was trying to get across.

In the original, Number Six is a spy who resigns for reasons unknown and is then spirited away to the Village, a surreal, dystopian prison camp for people who know too much.

Overseeing the Village is a parade of interchangeable bureaucrats who all go by the title Number Two. Each one tries — and fails — to get Number Six to conform. If Number Six can be persuaded to settle down and join this community of numbered inmates, he'll tell his captors everything they want to know. But in each episode, Number Six refuses to play along.

"I will not be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed or numbered," he tells one of the Number Twos. "My life is my own."

Yet that uncompromisingly individualist message is apparently far too radical for today.

This isn't a case of six of one, half a dozen of another. The remake's writer, Bill Gallagher, revealed his hand earlier this year during a panel discussion at San Diego Comic-Con.

"McGoohan's version was about the assertion of the individual and freedom from the class society, freedom from authority. ... And I was interested in, well, what are the costs of that?" he said. "... What if that degree of individualism and selfishness is dangerous? What if it's reaching a breaking point?"

True to his word, Gallagher delivered a "Prisoner" that looks somewhat like the original, but thematically it's the polar opposite.

In AMC's version, Six (James Caviezel) has been stripped of his memories and must spend much of his time just figuring out who he is. As it turns out, he worked for a made-to-order evil corporation that spies on people, and he resigned after seeing something he shouldn't have. His fellow inmates, meanwhile, think the Village is all there is. As far as they're concerned, there is no outside world to which to escape.

The Village, as a result, is no longer a metaphor for conformist society. Instead, it's a stand-in for evil elites who manipulate an innocent, unsuspecting populace. McGoohan's struggle of the individual against society is transformed into a thoughtless, generic fight between society and corporate bad guys.

Appropriately, there is an episode of the original "Prisoner" that could serve as a nice allegory for what AMC has done to McGoohan's vision.

In "The Schizoid Man," Number Six's captors try to make him question his identity by bringing in an exact double. The doppelganger looks like Number Six, and Number Two treats him as if he is Number Six. But the genuine Number Six is too sure of who he really is, even after several brainwashing sessions, to fall for Number Two's scheme.

Ultimately, AMC's "The Prisoner" is just a doppelganger attempting to undermine the original. Accept no substitutes.

Culture Shock 04.30.09: It's 'Red Dawn' in America again

I've seen my share of ill-advised remakes. "Halloween." "Psycho." Two unnecessary retreads of "King Kong." But they're nothing compared to what lurks on the horizon for next year.

That's when MGM plans to unleash its remake of 1984's "Red Dawn."

The original "Red Dawn" has aged about as well as legwarmers, Aquanet hair and pre-ripped jeans.

The movie's plot can best be described as "The Breakfast Club" meets "Invasion U.S.A." And by "Invasion U.S.A.," I mean either the 1952 Red Scare flick about godless commies descending on America or the 1985 Chuck Norris movie about godless commies descending on America. Take your pick.

"Red Dawn" opens with the Russians and Cubans invading the U.S. Afterward, it's up to a bunch of high school students to mount a resistance. Along the way, they get training from a downed Air Force pilot played by Powers Boothe, which allows them to stage guerrilla raids and fight their way to friendly territory.

The movie is best known for launching the careers of Patrick Swayze, Charlie Sheen and C. Thomas Howell.

OK, let's be honest about that. C. Thomas Howell hasn't had much of a career. But that's what he gets for agreeing to star in "Soul Man."

Anyway, back when Ted Turner still controlled TBS, rumor had it that he personally programmed the channel by spinning a big wheel with movie titles printed on it. Then he'd air whichever movie the arrow landed on. Unfortunately, the wheel listed the titles of only three movies: "Beastmaster," "Roadhouse" and "Red Dawn."

Now, it could be that I'm the person who started that rumor. That's neither here nor there. The point is, "Red Dawn" aired on TBS a lot when I was a teenager.

"Red Dawn" is written and directed by John Milius, who also gave us Arnold Schwarzenegger in "Conan the Barbarian." As one of Hollywood's few out-of-the-closet conservatives, Milius apparently decided that it was his duty to make an anti-communist movie that was every bit as paranoid and absurd as the anti-business and anti-nuclear movies Hollywood was churning out at about the same time.

Seven years later, the Soviet Union would be gone. But "Red Dawn" would still be on cable TV and still taking itself way too seriously.

But for all of its dreary, depressing earnestness, "Red Dawn" is now a cult favorite, which is probably why someone at MGM thinks it is prime remake material. There's just one tiny, little problem. The Soviet Union is no more. It has ceased to be. It has expired and gone to meet its maker. It is an ex-country.

But never fear. There still is one Big Bad out there to serve as the heavy — China.

According to a review of the remake's script, the new "Red Dawn" has the Chinese invading the U.S., with the Russians coming in later to back them up. So, basically, China is the new Soviet Union and Russia is stuck with the role of Cuban flunky. My, how the Russian Bear has fallen.

The irony here is that the new "Red Dawn" is probably being shot with camera equipment made in China. And that brings up another glaring flaw with this remake. As unlikely as a Soviet invasion of the U.S. was in 1984, a Chinese invasion in 2010 is even more farfetched.

I'm pretty sure we never bought movie equipment from the former Soviet Union, but we buy almost everything from China. Last year alone, the U.S. and China did $409 billion worth of business with each other, with China racking up a $266 billion trade surplus, which it then used to buy a sizable chunk of U.S. debt.

China is far more likely to turn us over to a bill collector than invade. And that might be worse. Think of all the harassing phone calls.

Remake the bad movies instead of good ones

A tender scene from "Manos: The Hands of Fate."

The summer movie season has begun, leading off with the usual crop of sequels, including the third installments of “Spider-Man,” “Shrek” and “Pirates of the Caribbean.”

But strangely, this season seems short on remakes. I know Hollywood hasn’t given up recycling, but maybe the studios are running out material.

Fortunately, I’m here to help. My advice: Instead of remaking good movies, try remaking bad ones.

“Night of the Lepus”: Ranchers in the Southwest face a threat worse than cattle rustlers when mutant rabbits the size of Volkswagens attack their isolated desert town.

How can anyone not love a movie about giant, killer bunny rabbits?

Released in 1972, “Night of the Lepus” was shot on the cheap. The “giant” bunnies were real rabbits, filmed on model sets, and men in rabbit suits. But now, through the wonders of technology, we can do all of the special effects by computer. Hollywood can now produce the vicious, bloodthirsty bunnies people crave.

The original co-starred the late DeForrest Kelley, the acerbic Dr. McCoy from “Star Trek,” so the remake should feature Robert Picardo, the acerbic Emergency Medical Hologram from “Star Trek: Voyager.” He needs the work.

“Santa Claus Conquers the Martians”: Martians kidnap Santa Claus because there is no one on Mars to give presents to the little Martian children. (Maybe that’s what Elton John meant when he said, “Mars ain’t the kind of place to raise a kid.”)

Again, this is a perfect opportunity for modern special effects wizardry. Instead of the original film’s Martians, who were just guys wearing green leotards and crash helmets with retractable antennae, the remake could have computer-generated Martians with bulbous heads and slimy tentacles. Instead of kidnapping Santa in order to get toys for their children, the Martians would be after Santa’s toymaking super-technology, with the intention of converting it to the manufacture of weapons for an invasion of Earth.

Of course, the Martians won’t count on one thing: In my remake, Arnold Schwarzenegger, who isn’t going to be California’s governator forever, plays Santa. What better vehicle for him to get back into movies than a family-friendly action flick with lots of explosions and dead extraterrestrials?

I can see the movie poster now: a cigar-chomping Schwarzenegger in a Santa suit and holding a bazooka. The tagline will be, “He knows if you’ve been bad.”

“Manos: The Hands of Fate”: Probably the worst film ever made, “Manos” is beloved only by fans of “Mystery Science Theater 3000” and masochists. No surprise, it was written and directed by a fertilizer salesman from El Paso, Texas.

The original involves a family stranded at a remote house with an evil cult leader called The Master; his bowlegged minion, Torgo; and his harem of lingerie-clad wives. The wives mostly just argue with each other and have a pillow fight that doesn’t involve pillows.

My version will be a shot-for-shot remake, so Gus Van Sant, who directed the 1998 remake of “Psycho,” can direct. We’ll use the original script, which has prize dialogue like “Dead? No, madam. Not dead the way you know it. He is with us always. Not dead the way you know it. He is with us always.”

The only difference is, my version will be a ballet and will have a minimalist classical score by Philip Glass and the Kronos Quartet. That will turn the “pillow fight” scene into pure cinematic gold, and my “Manos” will be the hit of arthouse theaters nationwide.

Actually, no. All of these remakes would be terrible. But at least no one could accuse Hollywood of trampling on the memory of good films.