Goke, Body-Snatcher from Hell (1968): written by Kyuzu Kobayashi and Susumu Takaku; directed by Hajime Sato: Fun though often somber and horrifying Japanese scifi/monster movie. 'Goke' isn't so much from Hell as it is from space, the vanguard of a supposed invasion.
Goke, Body-Snatcher from Hell uses the always-reliable Stagecoach template here, with a limited number of characters randomly brought together by shared transportation (an airplane here, not a stagecoach, lifeboat, or spaceship).
That airplane soon crashes thanks to Goke's flying saucer. And the survivors are soon beset by problems from within and from without, way without, as Goke has landed on their island to tease and torment them with some Dope alien powers.
The whole thing makes for an effective horror ride with out-dated but often extremely effective visual and special effects. There's more than a hint of allegory as well, with the violence and confusion of the world of 1968 portrayed through assassinations, bomb threats, corrupt politicians, corrupt arms dealers, and an American woman recently widowed by the Viet Nam War.
Goke, Body-Snatcher from Hell is rumoured to be a favourite of Quentin Tarantino. At the very least, he included a Goke-like scene in Kill Bill 1 that involved a jet flight and a lurid orange sky right out of Goke. Fun stuff. And a special award goes to the grotesque visualization of Goke entering and leaving a victim's body, along with a terrific ending. Recommended.
Natural Born Killers (1994): written by Quentin Tarantino, David Velez, Richard Rutowski, and Oliver Stone; directed by Oliver Stone; starring Woody Harrelson (Mickey), Juliette Lewis (Mallory), Tom Sizemore (Scagnetti), Rodney Dangerfield (Mallory's Father), Russell Means (Old Indian), Robert Downey, Jr. (Wayne Gale), and Tommy Lee Jones (Warden McClusky): Still as bracing and fresh and horrifying and pertinent and exciting and revolting now as it was in 1994. Maybe moreso.
From a story by Quentin Tarantino, Natural Born Killers is the best movie either Tarantino or director/co-writer Oliver Stone was ever involved with. The often dizzying shifts in film stock and POV mark a progression for Stone from similar effects in JFK. They also anticipate Tarantino's Kill Bill, only here they're actually about something other than Tarantino's desire to wow while remaining substanceless.
You could call it American Scream. You could call it American Dream. It's uncompromising in the most disturbing of ways, a restless meditation on a society's love of violence and the media's love of anything that secures ratings, no matter how vile or dangerous.
I think it's a Top 100 All-Timer, a Juvenalian yawp of barbaric, cosmic, comic horror. The whole cast dazzles, though none moreso than Rodney Dangerfield as a monstrous father to Juliette Lewis' monstrous daughter. The soundtrack/score is also a triumph, highlighted by a repeated use of Leonard Cohen as a sort of mournful commentator-in-song on the horrors onscreen, suggesting that Stone may have actually read Cohen's Beautiful Losers. This is Trump's America. You're soaking in it. Highly recommended.
From Dusk Till Dawn (1996): written by Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino; directed by Robert Rodriguez; starring George Clooney (Seth Gecko), Quentin Tarantino (Richard Gecko), Harvey Keitel (Jacob Fuller), Juliette Lewis (Kate Fuller), Ernest Liu (Scott Fuller), and Cheech Marin (Three characters): From Dusk Till Dawn still seems like two movies bolted together in the middle. The first movie is a gritty, amoral Tarantino crime drama about the bank-robbing Gecko brothers (George Clooney and Quentin Tarantino as Superego and Id, respectively). The second movie is a gore-soaked horror-comedy in the vein of Evil Dead 2.
They're both good movies, but I'll be damned if I know how they got stuck together like this. Robert Rodriguez directs with a lot of gusto, and Tarantino's script is solid, pulpy fun in the second half. There's some poorly modulated sexual violence towards women in the first half, a problem magnified by the jokey, one-note performance by Tarantino as the sexually predatious Gecko brother whom Clooney's more upright criminal is stuck with. Jesus, Tarantino was (and is) a terrible actor.
The second half goes on about ten minutes too long and bafflingly loses its antagonist about five minutes in. I enjoyed the movie, but I also felt a bit dirty afterwards. Harvey Keitel, George Clooney, and Juliette Lewis seem to be acting in (and reacting to) a completely different movie than anyone else. Their naturalistic performances accentuate the artificial grue and spew of the second half. Recommended.
