046. The Adventures of Hercules II

046. (01 Feb) The Adventures of Hercules II (1985, Luigi Cozzi) 21



You know you're in for a treat when a movie's first 8 minutes are opening credits over clips from the previous film. This is an identical exercise in camp as Hercules, only with a slightly smaller budget. Full of colorful set pieces, bad acting and a ridiculous plot, this kind of exploitation is hard to resist when it works out to be so campy. The highlight is a blatant rip-off of Clash of the Titans' iconic Medusa scene, copying the same effects while looking infinitely worse.

244. A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy's Revenge

244. (10 Oct) /A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy's Revenge/ (1985, Jack Sholder) 64

204. The Goonies

204. (14 Sep) /The Goonies/ (1985, Richard Donner)* 68

Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters (1985) **

On the morning of November 25, 1970, Yukio Mishima (Ken Ogata) was recognized as Japan’s greatest modern writer. By the end of the day he was viewed as a narcissistic madman, after he and four cadets from his own private army took the general of the 32nd Garrison of the Japanese Armed Forces hostage and then asked that the army join him in  bringing the Emperor back to power. When his request was impolitely turned down he proceeded to commit seppuku (a ritualistic form of self-disembowelment), and then he and his trusted lieutenant, Morita, were beheaded by one of the other cadets.  This act of rebellion came as a shock to the Japanese people, but it shouldn’t have, as Mishima’s novels had been filled with such plots as this one for several years. 

Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters (1985) depicts this bizarre real-life drama by not only showing the day of rebellion itself but by also focusing on four chapters (and three of the author’s fictional stories) in Mishima’s life: (1) Beauty, (2) Art, (3) Action, and (4) Harmony of Pen and Sword.  As each chapter is unfurled the viewer comes to understand Mishima’s almost pathological desire to unite art with the samurai mentality (i.e. harmony of the pen and sword). Supported by the deep pockets of executive producers Francis Ford Coppola and George Lukas, director Paul Schrader helmed a highly stylized film that is told in several tenses: present, flashback and literary, with each time frame represented by its own color palette. Elko Ishioka’s masterfully designed sets are the star of the film.  Beautifully photographed by John Bailey and set to a powerful musical score by famed composer Philip Glass, Mishima is a visually stunning art film with a generous budget. 

The color composition is what stands out about this movie. When shooting in the present Schrader chose to use a very flat color base, primarily in dreary browns with heavy lighting.  This created an atmosphere of unease for the chaos that Mishima was about to release. Flashbacks of what led Mishima to make his fateful decision are shot in reflective black and white, and are always accompanied by voice-over narration from Ogata. It is when the story delves into the literary elements of Mishima’s fictional writings that the movie pops off the screen.  Three stories are interwoven into the real-life drama: The Temple of the Golden Pavilion (1956), Kyoko’s House (1959), and Runaway Horses (1969). All are designed as stage plays and end in the suicide/death of the male protagonist.

The Temple of the Golden Pavilion is shot, not surprisingly, in golds and greens.  It is the story of a stuttering, homosexual Zen acolyte who is tormented by the power of beauty, which is embodied by the temple itself.  When you first see this section of the film it takes a few minutes to realize that this isn’t part of the real-life story.  It can be jarring to see the theatrical set design with its creative use of scale and scene backdrops, but once you adjust to it you begin to appreciate the creativity that went into designing it.

The second chapter, Kyoko’s House, is effeminate in nature and relies heavily on pinks, reds, and grays. It is a contemplation on the idea of the human body as the highest art form. It is decided that the body must be destroyed at the height of its beauty. In addition, there is a need to reconcile the duality of male and female for Mishima’s surrogate in this story.  This is perhaps the most disturbing of the four chapters in the movie, primarily because there is a sadomasochistic element running throughout.

While it might not be as colorful as the two previous chapters, Runaway Horses is the most visually striking of the three stories.  The lighting is much darker here, and the color tone is primarily in orange, brown and black.  In it, a young man decides to lead a revolt against those who support capitalism and he wants to bring the Emperor back to power (perhaps the most foreshadowing of the chapters).  Two set designs stand out to me: the house of cards (really cubicle panels) which fall down upon the conspirators and the endless open jail cells that follows this scene.  Images like these have a way of implanting themselves in your subconscious.

The story itself can be difficult to follow if you don’t pay close attention. It’s in Japanese, so while you’re looking at the amazing set designs and hearing Glass’ pounding score in the background, you also have to focus on reading the subtitles.  As such, I think this film takes at least two viewings to fully appreciate and understand.  The non-linear narrative can be off-putting to some, but I don’t think that it is too disjointed for someone to figure out when and what is happening. 

Overall, Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters is an art-house movie that is actually enjoyable to watch.  Yes, you have to do a little bit of work, but it does not require much heavy lifting. 

Double Feature: Kiss of the Spider Woman (1985) & The Prince of Tides (1991)

Kiss of the Spider Woman:

This adaptation features an Oscar-winning performance by William Hurt as a gay man named Luis Malina, who shares a cell with political activist Valentin Arregui (Raul Julia) in a Brazilian prison. To pass the time, Luis describes a German movie he loves in great detail, and he even nurses Valentin back to health when he is poisoned. However, Luis is trying to get information out of his fellow inmate in order to secure an early release. But Luis falls in love with the man. In the meantime, Valentin learns to trust him, which creates a problem for Luis: whether to aid his new friend or betray him.

The film received nominations for Best Picture, Best Director (Hector Babenco), Best Actor (Hurt), and Best Adapted Screenplay. With the film's only win, Hurt does give a good performance, but Julia deserved a nomination as well.

The Prince of Tides:

When his sister attempts suicide again, southerner Tom Wingo (Nick Nolte) visits New York City to meet with her psychiatrist, Dr. Lowenstein (Barbara Streisand). Together, they try to discover the root of his sister's depression, and their relationship becomes both personal and professional in the process. Both have troublesome marriages and both turn to each other for a brief period of happiness away from their disappointing lives. Though the film feels slightly dated, the performances and the score are above par for this kind of material.

The film received nominations for Best Picture, Best Actor, Best Supporting Actress (Kate Nelligan), Best Adapted Screenplay, Best Art Direction, Best Cinematography, and Best Original Score. Although the film did not win anything, the 7 nominations it received were, arguably, reward enough.

077. Deadly Messages

077. (04 Mar) Deadly Messages (1985, Jack Bender) 56



Consistently suspenseful, Deadly Messages has one of the funniest red herrings I've seen in a horror movie. It seems like it'll be a Ouija board movie like Witchboard, starting with a spirit warning of about a murder. But the Ouija is forgotten for almost the entire runtime from then on with the exception of a scene or two.

The real subject is about a bizarre amnesia plot. Since she's constantly being stalked by a mystery murderer, her confusion about her self-identity and paranoia gives Kathleen Beller an opportunity to play a hysterical woman practically nonstop. There are solid jump scares here along with hints of homage at Cat People in a pool scene and Halloween.

061. Broken Rainbow

061. (20 Feb) Broken Rainbow (1985, Victoria Mudd) 48



What a silly Documentary Feature winner. While there are some fair points made here about federal corruption in regulating Native American reservations, Mudd's bias and pandering are intolerable. At every opportunity, she paints the Navajo as victims without confronting their unwillingness to negotiate better trades for the natural resources on their land. As an exposé it's competent, but Mudd has Martin Sheen reading offensively simplistic diatribes against "the white man" and his evils.

052. Desperately Seeking Susan

052. (15 Feb) Desperately Seeking Susan (1985, Susan Seidelman) 66



All the comedic cliches are here from temporary amnesia to mistaken identity to a vaguely distant relationship between a wife and her husband that makes you root for a real romance to sweep her off her feet. Rosanna Arquette sells it though, too charming and sincere to discredit for a second. It's also hard to believe she wouldn't fall for Aidan Quinn, who smolders here almost as much as he did in Reckless. Madonna is also utterly delightful with a bad girl persona she seems totally comfortable with.

Edward Lachman's cheery color palette and a breezy plot just add to the film's joyfulness. The film is undoubtedly silly on its face, but it's funnier and fresher than the vast majority of '80s comedies.

049. Smooth Talk

049. (10 Feb) Smooth Talk (1985, Joyce Chopra) 60



Laura Dern makes a delightful impression here, especially in the strong first hour. As an alluring, lost teenager, you get a wonderful sense of how foolish and idealistic the age can be. She and her friends flirt with boys at the mall and put themselves in dangerous situations in attempts to win male attention.

When her innocence is lost as a mysterious stranger arrives, the film certainly loses its footing. The stranger is played intriguingly, but not brilliantly by Treat Williams. It's hardly his fault that the film loses itself at this point. It's being true to Joyce Carol Oates' story, though the ending is far less ambiguous.