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Reviews
Phantom of the Paradise (1974)
Visually entertaining, musically painful, dramatically insignificant
DePalma at (almost) his best, which is not too good but intermittently entertaining, mostly for the visual aspects.
The problem is that everything else is obviously a subordinate concern to the effects and scenes that DePalma (who wrote as well as directed). This holes in the narrative and lack of internal logic are made all the more painful by awkward scenes of exposition that are either unnecessary ("But I'm innocent! Swan framed me and stole my music" is not something that needs to be stated to the audience immediately after showing it) or shoehorned in, putting the brakes on the movie.
The lack of internal logic undermines dramatic effect, but that's no surprise, as DePalma's inability in that regard is amply illustrated in his attempts at "serious" movies such as Bonfire of the Vanities and the Untouchables.
In his best films (the underrated Greetings and the effectively unpretentious Carrie), DePalma doesn't overreach himself. In most of his movies, however, his "homages" to classic scenes of other movies only serve to underscore that he is not in a league with the filmmakers that he idolizes.
Phantom of the Paradise could have been more than an amusing curiosity if the music wasn't so prevalent, interminable, and awful. The music that's supposed to be "good" is the worst sort of sensitive balladeering. The music that's supposed to be trashy rock bastardizations of the "artist's vision" are way more Broadway than rock and not trashy enough: the character Beef deserved better.
Baise-moi (2000)
Not so ground-breaking
While it's true that the movie is somewhat interesting, the execution leaves a lot to be desired (much like Blood Orgy of the Leather Girls, I Spit on Your Grave, and Born in Flames, all superior). I don't think it's not porn, but porn is in the eye of the beholder: if it functions as porn for somebody, who am I to say that he/she is wrong? I was rather puzzled by the statement in Winkimation's generally thoughtful review ("Such a Shame") that "for once we actually see men's faces when they come." A few years ago I did occasional freelance reviews for an adult mag and I recall seeing plenty of men's faces when they came. I think this is probably more common when the film features on of the few male porn "stars" (and especially when that male is the director). Though I unsurprisingly can't refer to any specific titles, I know that there are some instances in Ron Jeremy's, uh, work. I also don't know that I'd agree that a man is necessarily showing vulnerability in his face when coming.
Golden Days (2007)
Listen to their music first
Does every rock band now think that having somebody shoot a bunch of video footage about their struggle for success think it's the way for an end run to success? And isn't anybody else tired of the same old rock whining? The Damnwells music is as lame as the Brian Jonestown Massacre's (though in a different style), but the BJM had some mildly entertaining hijinks in the overrated Dig (and that would have been only half as good if it weren't for the tambourine player, who was quite amusingly the band's real star). Golden Days is about one-tenth as interesting as Dig (naturally assumed to be an inspiration for this project). I suspect all the high ratings are from fans of the band: if you don't like their music and you've already seen a couple of docs about bands, there's not much here to enjoy.
Mars Needs Women (1968)
What's wrong with you people?
I don't understand the reviewers here who say that they deeply enjoyed Mars Needs Women yet give it two stars. Having enjoyed something doesn't count in your assessment of its value? Those who claim it's among "the worst" movies ever made should take a look at the other three movies Buchanan made for TV at around the same time. None rise to the heights of Mars Needs Women (and Zontar is more an example of a film that taxes endurance enough to have a certain sublimity of it own). What makes this movie especially great are the genuinely poetic moments that make the obviously intended earnestness of the ridiculous scenes more plausible. This film will be watched and studied long after the pablum currently playing your mall's multiplex is forgotten.