Author: BRWC

The Bloody Judge is an historical horror / drama, in the Witchfinder General style, that was directed by prolific hack/auteur/pornographer [delete according to taste] Jess Franco.  It was first released in Italy in February 1970 under the title ‘Il Trono di fuoco’, the first of many such retitlings as the film made its way around Europe; however, The Bloody Judge was Franco’s preferred title.  His least favourite title, incidentally, was ‘Night of the Blood Monster’ a ludicrous and nonsensical title bestowed upon the film by our unscrupulous American cousins.

The film stars Christopher Lee as Judge George Jeffreys, a Welsh lawyer of the 17^th century who rose to the position of Lord Chancellor under King James II.  When a Protestant rebellion against the Catholic King James was quashed in 1685, Jeffreys was tasked with conducting the trials of captured rebels, with the instruction to be as severe as possible.  Some 300 rebels were executed and the rest deported and it is for this reason that Jeffreys acquired his infamy.

It’s against this backdrop that the film’s events take place.  Harry Selton, son of the Earl of Wessex (a bewigged and, frankly, slumming it Leo Genn) is one of the rebels plotting against the King; on the side, he is in love with Mary Gray (Maria Rohm – Franco regular and, probably not coincidentally, wife of producer / sleaze impresario Harry Alan Towers) whose sister Alicia (Margaret Lee) is being persecuted by the Bloody Judge himself, who when not executing treasonous Protestants indulges in a spot of witchfinding.

Harry (Selton, not Towers) is eventually captured and imprisoned at Taunton, which evidently looks a lot like rural Portugal given Franco’s decision to shoot there.  The Earl of Wessex attempts to intercede on his son’s behalf but is cruelly rebuffed by the merciless judge who then receives a much more appealing offer from Mary who is prepared to do whatever it takes to secure her lover’s freedom.

Into this heady brew are tossed a blind sorceress (Maria Schell, who must be wondering how she went from Visconti to Franco in little more than 10 years), a hooded torture-master (Howard Vernon) and battle scenes involving cannons and cavalry.  On top of that you get lashings of torture and soft porn – you know, the kind that Christopher Lee swears he knew nothing about – which is, let’s face it, what most of us are sitting through a Franco movie to see.

I have to say though that, as Franco movies go, it’s not half bad.  Apparently he had a decent budget on this production and used it to good effect securing a far better cast than he usually got, with the consequence that the amateurish feel of a lot of Franco’s efforts is absent here.  It looks good too; okay, the locations don’t look much like the west of England but the buildings themselves are authentic and even if the film is exploitation rather than history it is at the very least plausible.

On the DVD are a 25-minute interview with Franco and Lee (separately) who, despite Lee’s attempts to distance himself from his horror past, seem to have got on pretty well.  There are also some deleted / alternate scenes one of which carries the notice that it was sourced from a VHS bootleg tape.  Watching that scene was a nostalgic reminder of the lengths you had to go to in pre-internet days to see this sort of film and the generally poor quality you experienced if you managed to find them.  So if, like me, you’re of an age that had to suffer third-generation dupes back in the day you’ll want to see some of Jess Franco’s movies again, and this time on a quality DVD like this one.

I have yet to see the new Les Misérables film, mainly because my friend described it as “so long and they NEVER STOP SINGING” (I’ll try to get her to write a guest review). I have, however, just seen another film dedicated to exploring the harrowing existence of the poor and of women in historical Paris, without making a song and dance about it.

Gervaise was released in 1956 to a slew of awards; an adaptation of Émile Zola’s 1877 novel L’Assommoir. It follows the life of laundress Gervaise (Maria Schnell) as she tries to throw off the chains of poverty, a sexist society and selfish men. The film opens with her adulterous partner Lantier (Armand Mestral) abandoning her and their two sons for another woman. Gervaise is soon married to illiterate roofer Henri Coupeau (François Périer), described as a “kind man” who is not deterred by her existing children and past lovers. Gervaise’s humble dream is to open her own laundry shop, and through years of hard work, she and Coupeau finally raise the money to rent a building. However, tragedy strikes and Coupeau is left bed-bound for months, eating into all their savings and trapping him in the grip of alcoholism. Gervaise’s future then stumbles steadily, inexorably, downhill.

In 1956, this film would have been quite progressive for its time, and even more so the 1877 novel. It tragically portrays the struggles of decent, hard-working women in the face of a cruel patriarchal, conservative society, and the struggle of those living in poverty to find a way out whilst maintaining their pride and integrity.

Although Gervaise is determined and industrious, she is trapped by the necessity of having a man in a patriarchal world, no matter how disappointing that man may be. She narrates of how selfish Lantier took her when she was 15, gave her two children then left; to avoid destitution and social exclusion, she then marries Coupeau, who ends up drinking away her money and her business, and drinking himself into an early grave.

The most striking display of the tragedy of mid-19^th Century woman’s dependence on men comes at the crux of the movie. Gervaise has the money to rent her laundry shop, but the law requires her husband’s signature (despite Coupeau’s illiteracy leaving his signature as no more than a scrawled “X”). As he gets up from his roofing job to sign the form, he trips and falls: it is this that leaves him bed-bound, and in turn leads him to alcoholism and despair. Had Gervaise been able to rent the room on her own, the heartbreaking events of the second half of the film might never have happened.

This film is more complex than a simple “women are good, men are evil” narrative, however, and I wouldn’t want to give that impression. This is more a tale of the structural evils of patriarchy, of labour laws, and of poverty than it is of individual deeds. Coupeau and Lantier may essentially ruin Gervaise’s life, but Coupeau at least cuts a pitiable figure. He begins a good man, but because of expensive medical bills, his illiteracy and male pride, falls into despair. There is one purely “good” man in the film: Goujet (Jacques Harden), a quiet, honest blacksmith who loves Gervaise, but is put into jail for striking at the one time he could have saved her. Equally, women are not all portrayed in a positive light, with deceitful Virginie (Suzy Delair) causing much of Gervaise’s anguish.

It is this complexity and realism in Gervaise that makes it such a compelling watch. There are no simplistic heroes and heroines and no happy ending. It is a sad tale, but a powerful one, and a poignant reminder of how far society has come, yet how far it has to go.

It’s almost impossible for anyone to separate the politics of the War on Terror from Katherine Bigelow’s Oscar nominated drama. The film certainly pulls no punches when it comes to the representation of real world events, from the chilling opening using voice recordings from 9/11 victims you know you are in for a rough ride.

First and foremost the film is in no way a glamorised depiction of the hunt for Osama bin Laden or the CIA operatives that carried it out. This is not an air punching salute to the American flag in the style of Michael Bay’s much derived Pearl Harbour. In the opening scenes of the film we are introduced to our main protagonists, our heroes, as they brutally torture a detainee. The camera does not pan away, we do not see a cell door close followed by muffled screams, we see in full the extent of the ‘harsh tactics’ and their effects on the prisoner.

This introduction to Jessica Chastain’s Maya and Jason Clarke’s Dan is bold to say the least. Usual Hollywood fair would introduce these characters within a family setting helping you identify and sympathise with them as the film goes on. Not here. Here we have the opposite effect, for the first third of the film I personally found it very hard to like or root for Maya.

This lack of empathy towards the character could be exactly what Bigelow and writer Mark Boal were going for. By presenting the facts, events and people involved in this story as dispassionately as possible the filmmakers have allowed the audience to draw their own conclusions. Much like William James (Jeremy Renner) from the Oscar winning The Hurt Locker, some audience members will consider the protagonist a hero others will consider her a dangerous and often arrogant anti-hero.

As the plot slowly unfolds it would be very easy to get lost in the technical jargon of the CIA characters as they meticulously sift through information, set up meets with informants and follow paper trails. However by keeping the focus on a central lead in the search (which Maya becomes personally obsessed with) Bigelow keeps a clear narrative that helps to tie together an incredibly complex manhunt with the tense final raid at the films climax.

The Hurt Locker proved Bigelow’s talent for building suspense and that talent once again shines her. The fact that the audience knows how events play out and is still on the edge of their seats during the films infamous finale is testament to the skill of the filmmaking on show.

Above all Zero Dark Thirty‘s greatest achievement is that it captures the essence of the War on Terror. From the minute details of intelligence gathering to the world changing horrific events that took place, Bigelow shows a sensitivity and frankness that will see the film endure as a drama documenting zeitgeist of the post-9/11 world. I saw the film in a small screen at a cinema less than 10 miles from the centre of London. When the image of a red double decker bus along with the date 7th July 2005 appeared on screen you could feel the atmosphere in the room change. The War on Terror continues to effect the lives of millions in one way or another. In Zero Dark Thirty audiences all over the world have an intelligent, honest and at times brutal thriller which will provoke debate and discussion for years to come.

I don’t know if you noticed this or anything but you feel like shit. Yes you! Why? Because you’re sticking that Grade Z moo cow hoof down your gullet, washed down no doubt with a tasty beverage of sugar cubes, mystery-diroxideX and Unobtanium. You sir/madam are a disgrace. Before you ask, I myself am Olympian like in spectacle. The gym my Elysium. A strawberry/passion fruit/blueberry smoothie? Ambrosia. Excuse me a moment the pizza man is here…

Right, now that’s out the way – Forks Over Knives is the brainchild of writer/director Lee Fulkerson whose previous credits appear to be mostly US Air Force and combat documentaries. Here he turns health crusader after being diagnosed with high-everything and potential-whatever’s. Pursuing a new lifestyle free from manufactured or butchered products he presents us with testimonials about how we all can live healthier. We see interviews with doctors, politicians and patients who swear by their all plant based diets; weight loss, diminishing diabetes and improved flexibility are all attributed to the plants.

Drawing from primarily American examples, we are given stats about how much we spend on prescription pills to battle food related disorders, how much the US spends on take out and so on. In contrast Japan in the 1940’s (not so much now since McDonalds came to town) was a beacon of healthy living where the very notion of degenerative heart disease was a nonsense. All to do with diets.

With the tagline: Warning – This Film Could Save Your Life there is no question that Forks Over Knives is a documentary with an agenda – although saying that the vast majority of them do. Fortunately for us it is not a fiercely tyrannical one where the director continually screams in our face “No. You’re doing EVERYTHING wrong”. Faulkerson’s style is more of a prodding kitten looking for some attention. In fact the film has such a non-nondescript flare to it it could be a science class video. There are no bombastic montages set to a Black Flag tune. No preposterous stunts to get in the press and no real conflict to speak of (other than our common enemy – DEATH). In a way this films feels very out of date.

The content, admirable as it is, is hardly earth shattering. We know burgers are bad and a purely veg based diet is probably going to do you more good. Yes we shouldn’t be popping pills. We should go hiking instead. We don’t really need to be told this, we’ve made our greasy beds and we shall lay in them. Doctors and talking heads go one step further claiming that a life free from dairy and based solely on plants has breast cancer and type 2 diabetes. The most intriguing notion, is the government sponsored “fact” that you need cow milk to build up calcium. The film attests that over time it does more harm than good. The accusations/revelations of government propaganda and the food industry are as alarming as they are interesting.

It’s hard to dislike a film that’s intention is to try and per-long our grumpy, sarcastic lives. However the lack of a two sided argument hurts the film somewhat. You could say that we hear the other side of the argument in our daily lives, but a few more dissenting voices within the film would broaden the discussion.

As it is it seems a fluke, perhaps even dangerous to show us a story of a woman who recovers from breast cancer by eating her veg and exercising. Surely this method doesn’t work for everybody. Informative for the most part, downright obvious in places and told as dryly as a plain Ryvita but with it’s heart in the right place Forks Over Knives makes a worthy addition to the food doc genre.