(1961)
Dir - Curtis Harrington
Overall: MEH
Though he had been making short films as far back as 1942, Night Tide serves as Curtis Harrington's full-length, independent debut which was not theatrically released until two years after it was finished. One can see direct, personal parallels with Harrinton's homosexuality to a story about an orphaned woman growing up as a side-show attraction who was raised to "not have normal relationships with normal people" by her lonely, jealous, and adopted guardian. This results in Linda Lawson's mysterious "mermaid" Mora being an outsider who has become confused with her own natural feelings that are at odds with her manipulated upbringing. Such subtext is ultimately more interesting than the movie itself though. Harrington does not have the directorial chops to break up the monotony of the plot which is stagnant at regular intervals. Dennis Hopper is good as a likeable Navy cadet even if his initial, pushy passes at Lawson have not aged particularly well. Some of the more startling images are undermined by noticeably bottom-end production values, including an unintentionally hilarious dream sequence where Hopper is attacked by a giant stuffed animal octopus while pretending to be terrified by it. Still, this is a curious footnote in early New Queer Cinema for those who may want to seek it out.
(1962)
Dir - Robert Aldrich
Overall: GOOD
The legendarily nightmarish What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? kick-started the psycho-biddy sub-genre, (which was never done better than here), and also provided career revivals for Bette Davis and Joan Crawford. Equally famous for both its melodramatic infamy as well as the real life rivalry between its aged stars, it would be a mere footnote in Hollywood lore if not for the fact that it holds up so well as a darkly comedic thriller of the wackadoo variety. Davis turns in one of the screen's most memorably loony performances as the title character who is like a dialed-up, off her meds Norma Desmond. Whether she is pathetically wallowing in delusion or gleefully torturing her sister, she delivers the chills through and through. Crawford is equally excellent in the infinitely more sympathetic role of Blanche Hudson and the two make arguably the most dysfunctional sibling pair in any movie. Lukas Heller's screenplay, (which is an adaptation of Henry Farrell's novel of the same name), has a couple of purposely aggravating close-calls where the audience is likely to yell at Crawford for not seizing her early opportunities to escape. Yet Robert Aldrich's direction overcomes such mild grievances by being enjoyably macabre and heavy on the suspense.
(1965)
Dir - William Conrad
Overall: MEH
The second of three thriller films produced and directed by William Conrad that were released in 1965, My Blood Runs Cold is notable for featuring heartthrob actor Troy Donahue in an against type role as an aloof, villainous conman who is also several sandwiches short of a picnic. Donahue's character goes from annoyingly stubborn and standoffish to inexplicably irresistible to Joey Heatherton protagonist with daddy issues, all before sleepwalking through his eventual bouts of violent mania. It is not so much that Donahue is bad in the part, it is more that he does not have anywhere interesting to go with it due to John Mantley's script which deals with simple minded, psychological cliches. The movie is also almost entirely without action, making it a heavily talky affair that grows more tiring as everyone behaves like stereotypes out of a therapist's playbook. Things get unintentionally silly by the end which compounds the plot holes, features Heatherton laying it on pretty thick, and a final set piece on top of a sand plant that is more stupid than tragic. Everything looks slick and is taken seriously for a B-picture at least, but the components are definitely lacking in quality.
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