Late Night With The Devil by Charles Elmore

written by Charles Elmore

Late Night With The Devil

written & directed by Cameron and Colin Cairnes

Starring David Dastmalchian, ian Bliss, Laura Gordon & Ingrid Torelli

****THIS REVIEW CONTAINS MINOR SPOILERS

Late Night with the Devil debuted in theaters this past spring as a standout entry in the found footage sub-genre of horror and has now found a home streaming on SHUDDER. Written and directed by sibling duo Cameron and Colin Cairnes, the film evokes a nostalgic, golden-age-of-television aesthetic, with creepy vibes reminiscent of a pre-Internet era when late-night programming and public access TV could send shivers down your spine. It’s an atmospheric horror piece, relying more on ambiance and clever scares than on overtly horrific acts.

Completed in 2023 and released in 2024, Late Night with The Devil stars a perennial that-guy David Dastmalchian, most recognizable as a frequent collaborator of Christopher Nolan and Denis Villenueve, who pops up in many movies like Dune, or the Ant-Man Series. Here he gets an opportunity as the lead and commands the entirety of this 93 minute high-wire act of genre film making. Dastmalchian gets to play a bit against his own type, as the straight man, although here, in specific terms, a straight man with more of a darker, more complex, nuanced to his background than say your typical Dick Snyder would be in a film like this.

The film also features Ingrid Torelli, Laura Gordon, Ian Bliss, and Faysal Bazzi, each playing pivotal roles in the nightmarish events that unfold. Bazzi’s Christou, a magician performing seemingly harmless parlor tricks, sets the stage for a dramatic confrontation with Torelli’s devil-possessed cult-survivor teen. Gordon’s character, Torelli’s psychologist, adds emotional depth, as all three characters spiral into the chaos that surrounds the infamous 1977 broadcast that led to the show's banishment from television.

The setup is reminiscent of occult-themed shows from the Sci-Fi Channel or USA Up All Night, introducing us to Jack Delroy, a late-night host with ambitions to rival Johnny Carson. Delroy’s failure to match Carson’s success pushes him to take more extreme measures to boost ratings, turning his show into something akin to The Jerry Springer Show, albeit with more sinister undertones. Dastmalchian’s portrayal mixes sincerity with desperation, perfectly capturing the slow unraveling of Delroy’s psyche as he chases fame.

Delroy's personal life mirrors his professional decline, as his wife, a Broadway actress, fades into the background of his rising career, ultimately succumbing to cancer. Simultaneously, Delroy’s involvement with a secretive, Masonic-like group adds layers to the story, as he seemingly strikes a Faustian bargain that only intensifies his eventual downfall.

The film reaches its climax on Halloween 1977, during a live broadcast meant to capitalize on “Sweeps week”, but instead, it unleashes unimaginable evil into homes across America. The Cairnes brothers' clever use of 1970s television technology and visual grammar adds a haunting realism to the events, reminiscent of the documentary-style aesthetics used in The Blair Witch Project and The Last Broadcast.

Much like high water marks in the pseudo-doc and found footage genres like Cannibal Holocaust or Man Bites Dog, the film attempts to blurs the line between fiction and reality through various visual approximations to the media of the era. The unaired “broadcast” is shown in a low-res, 4x3 aspect ratio, capturing the fuzzy, overly-saturated look of 1970s CRT televisions, evelating the sensation that we are watching a lost artifact from cable access history. The filmmakers further employ a black-and-white documentary style from the same era, evoking the observational cinema of Pennebaker and the Maysles brothers, bringing to mind historical moments like the moon landing or Vietnam War footage. The contrast between these styles reflects the chaotic, unsettling events of the show’s taping.

The real power of Late Night with the Devil lies in its ability to make you question what’s real. The film teases viewers with a sense of verisimilitude—just enough for us to wonder, "Did this actually happen?" It taps into old urban legends, like the politician who shot himself on live TV, or the infamous tales of satanic panic in the ’70s and ’80s. This fine balance between reality and fiction is one of the film’s strongest qualities.

This is essentially a psychological horror as well. A movie where you're as much guessing if this could easily be a projection of the characters crumbling psyche as it is legitimately happening as depicted, as Rosemary says in Rosemary's Baby: “This is no dream. This is really happening.” And in the case of Late Night with the Devil a reality that leaves Delroy shattered by the end. Possession vs Hypnotism plays a heavily into the finale, percolating an intriguing side argument between hypnotism, at the hands of a master magician versus true genuine transmission and communication with an otherworldly, even spiritual presence - whether they be benevolent or benign- is an oftentimes interesting argument swirling around the margins of this horrific, terrifying, creepy slow-burn of moviemaking.

Interesting dialogs and conversations often bubble and fade at the edges of LNWTD, not just in the background of characters like the Floor Director or the Makeup Artist all the way up to how other characters motivations are revealed and connected to the finale. Back story constantly careens and crashes against each other as the moment of reckoning ticks closer with every toss to commercial break.

To me, what feels like the only note of deflation, my only disappointment with LNWTD -and most modern horror films like this - is that they could have gone harder into the horror of what leads to the confrontation. When the devil comes and a bill is due and a character must stand and face the receipt showing the basis, the origin, the genesis of that agreement could have gone shown us more, we could’ve seen more clearly the faustian bargain that Delroy is eluded to have made up in the secretive environs of the California redwoods.

I had hoped, by the time the camera pulls out to reveal the truth of what we've been witnessing for the last 20 minutes of Late Night with the Devil- In a year where movies are being noted for how great their final 30 minutes are, from the substance to late night with the devil to strange darling, that in the last several minutes of this film, when they could have clocked us with more gut punch psychology and pathos than gory thrills, instead simply deciding to just tie it all up everything nicely.

While Late Night with the Devil is masterfully crafted, my one disappointment is that the horror could have delved deeper. The film hints at a Faustian bargain, but we’re left wanting more detail and exploration of Delroy’s fateful deal with the devil. The film’s final 30 minutes, though satisfying, could have packed more psychological impact rather than tying things up neatly.

Late Night with the Devil is a fantastic entry in the found footage horror sub-genre. Cameron and Colin Cairnes, along with Dastmalchian’s standout performance, deliver a gripping film on par with The Blair Witch Project or Cannibal Holocaust. It’s only that, having seen so many predecessors, this viewer was left wanting just a bit more depth. I eagerly await more from the minds that brought this demented work to life.

-Charles Elmore

The Substance by Charles Elmore

written by Charles Elmore

The Substance

written & directed by Coralie Fargeat

Starring Demi Moore, Margaret Qualley, Dennis Quaid

****THIS REVIEW CONTAINS MINOR SPOILERS

In Hollywood, the literal hi-fi amplifier of our deliciously narcissistic society, an individuals humanity is often sacrificed at the altar of celebrity stardom and the obsession with immortal beauty. Whether an actor, model, influencer, or other public figure, we tend to lift these every day mortals upon a pedestal, shaping our identities around them from the moment we first connect with the object of worship. As we seem to succumb to the assault of age, we follow our idols through different phases of their lives, captivated by their seemingly ageless presence.

But with fame comes a cruel reality. Celebrities, once defined by their beauty, are forever enshrined by the media at the moment of their perfection. This "Dorian Gray" effect becomes the ultimate double-edged sword, as their youthful image remains frozen in time, while they must contend with the cruel reality of age, gravity and an impermanent attention span at home. A pursuit of ageless beauty and perpetual relevance—because nothing is worse than an aging celebrity who sticks around past their prime, forcing us to observe the hideousness of their natural state of age.

This is the premise at the heart of Coralie Fargeat’s The Substance, her follow-up to the stunning 2017 debut, Revenge. The Substance stars Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley, the film thrusts us, like alice down a rabbit hole, into the desperate depths a once-glamorous star, Elizabeth Sparkle (Moore), succumbs to in order to maintain her beauty and relevance in a ruthless, insatiable industry.

Before the Substance fully kicks off, we’re treated to a rapid montage of Elizabeth’s career in a locked overhead perspective of her star on a walk-of-fame style sidewalk. From the first pour of concrete, through the height of her fame all the way down to the literal cracks that form on her Hollywood Walk of Fame star we get fragments and flashes of her fame, adoration and eventual decline in just 5 minutes you get a lifetime of stardom before we find Moore’s character, now 50, still stunning though the signs of age are revealing. She is unceremoniously dropped from her failing aerobics show on her birthday by Harvey a slimy, chain-smoking network executive played deliciously by Dennis Quaid; a performance I might add that may single-handedly redeem the atrocious turn in this year’s Reagan. The nameless network wants someone younger, more relevant, more nubile and Quaid’s shrimp guzzling exec embodies the slimy, cynical network boss who sees people like Sparkle as disposable commodities.

After what could only be described as a Car Accident Ex Machina, Sparkle is tipped off about a mysterious product that promises to restore her to a more . Despite initial hesitation, she injects herself with the "substance"—only to find herself staring at her own lifeless body, while her consciousness has transferred into a younger version of herself, now played by Margaret Qualley.

From here, The Substance takes on a Cronenbergian exploration of fame, obsessive vanity, and the lengths to which a person will go to extend their youthful vitality and desire. Sparkle quickly discovers that she can prolong her life as this younger self, Sue as she names herself, for a limited time - 7 days no exception - before turning back to Elizabeth, any negligence to the rules and Sparkle could cause her real body to age and deteriorate in return. The process becomes addictive to Sue, leading to a spiral of increasingly reckless behavior as Sue - and in effect Elizabeth deep down - grows increasingly intoxicated with the new found fame and attention, while the real Sparkle is left paying the price in her decaying, older body. As the film descends into madness, it spirals deeper into the psychological and horrific physical toll of this new lease on beauty. Each time Sue (Qualley) breaks the rules and extends her “time” as the younger Sparkle, Elizabeth’s older body suffers the effects—her fingers become wrinkled and liver-spotted, her body deteriorates more rapidly. Sparkle’s literal body decays as the pressures she faces to maintain her image in an industry that prizes youth above all else reaches a fever pitch.

Writer and director Coralie Fargeat delivers a grotesque, gory and often hilarious parable about the pursuit of eternal youth, the narcissism and self-destructive nature of celebrity culture while sending up the dark side of fame, its horrifying affect on the human psyche, and the desperation that comes with trying to keep a stranglehold on an identity built on physical perfection and public adoration. Demi Moore plays Elizabeth Sparkle with self-loathing aplomb, capturing both the tragedy and insanity of a woman driven to destroy herself in pursuit of beauty and relevance. The film careens further away from horror to bordering on surreal absurdity with a finale that must truly be experienced in the dark confines of the theater to truly appreciate.

Ultimately, The Substance is a rapturous, thought-provoking film that lampoons the intersections of vanity, fame, and the human desire for immortality with deliciously bloody glee. Fargeat masterfully deploys elements of body horror with a psychological exploration of identity and self-image, making it a standout in a year of already exceptional genre fare.

-Charles Elmore

Rebel Yell by Charles Elmore

written by Charles Elmore

REBEL RIDGE

Written & Directed by Jeremy Saulnier

Starring Aaron Pierre, AnnaSophia Robb, Don Johnson

**** Stars - Netflix Premiere - Streaming


Aaron Pierre engages in a manner of de-escalation in Jeremy Saulnier’s Rebel Ridge, 2024 netflix.

Watching the most-recent body-cam footage between Law Enforcement and a Person of Color, this time the agitated confrontation between a Miami motorcycle Police Officer and Miami Dolphins wide receiver Tyreek Hill, it’s hard not to feel a familiar pit in your stomach. A Black man, attempting to comply with law enforcement, faces a dangerous balancing act of self-preservation, knowing that his life might hinge on the confronting officer’s emotional state and mental fortitude. Even in 2024, it remains shocking to witness such continual aggression toward a person of color over something like a speeding incident, escalating quickly to physical force without provocation.

It is this racial tension between law enforcement and people of color in today’s America, especially in rural areas, sets the stage for Jeremy Saulnier’s Rebel Ridge. The film, Saulnier’s fifth, is a trou gripping action piece rooted in current social issues, with a standout performance by Aidan Pierre. He faces off against Don Johnson, whose Chief Sandy Burnne, a corrupt police chief, exudes a righteousness that skirts the line of caricature before settling into a simmering menace. With Rebel Ridge Saulnier brings the same kind of genre craftsmanship seen in films like Walking Tall, First Blood, Breaker Breaker into the relevant foreground of 2024.

The film delves deep into themes of xenophobia, racism, and systemic injustice. Pierre’s character, Mike, a U.S. Marine who - while never seeing combat - was trained in hand to hand combat and a panoply of deescalation techniques. It is this… special set of skills to quote Liams Nissans that the corrupt police chief, Sandy Thorpe (played by Johnson), underestimates when Mike is subjected to an unlawful seizure of his assets by a local cop. Assets that include over $30k in cash Mike is carrying to bail his cousin out of jail before he faces potential danger in prison. Under dubious municipal ordinances and misappropriated homeland security laws, the police rob Mike, who had just sold his vehicle to bail out his cousin. They assume the worst of him simply because he’s a Black man riding a bike and carrying cash in the Deep South.

With the aide of court clerk Summer played by AnnaSophia Robb, Mike realizes he is the victim of a corrupt police force desperate for revenue, that has resorted to seizing assets under onion-skin thin pretexts, flippantly using laws like the Patriot Act to justify their actions. But in Mike they’ve picked the wrong man to cross. Mike’s marine training and sense of justice lead to a calculated response using all manner of creative acronyms to as Mike often puts it “De-escelate” the situation, making Rebel Ridge more than a typical action movie. It's a cunning and visceral commentary on systemic abuse and racial injustice running rampant like wild Kudzu.

Jeremy Saulnier has proven his genre bona-fides. With the one-two punch of Blue Ruin and Green Room and while his follow ups - Hold The Dark and his stalled-out efforts with HBO’s True Detective series - didn’t quite capture the high intensity of those two films, Saulnier cemented himself as a filmmaker with a smart wit and exacting command of the thriller genre. In Rebel Ridge he crafts a taut, intense narrative that echoes the drive-in action films of the '70s and '80s. But unlike those films, Saulnier updates the genre with a modern lens, reflecting the Black Lives Matter movement and the recent killings of Black men at the hands of law enforcement. The film swaps the barren landscapes of classic Westerns for the dense, oppressive canopies of the Deep South, but the themes of lawlessness and corruption remain.

Rebel Ridge examines how municipal policing and asset forfeiture prey on vulnerable citizens, stripping them of their rights and dignity under the guise of justice all through the jocular intensity of a Stallone or Chuck Norris Carolco Pictures classic from the rental store shelves. Saulnier doesn't shy away from the harsh realities of communities across rural America, where entrenched poverty and corruption create an environment where injustice thrives while fully delivering on the promise of an intensely satisfying action film.

Charles Elmore

Strange Darling by Charles Elmore

written by Charles Elmore

Strange Darling

written & directed by JT Mollner

Starring Willa Fitzgerald, Kyle Gallner, Ed Begley Jr., Barbara Hershey

**** stars - theatrical - first run

Willa Fitzgerald as The Lady in Strange Darling

JT Mollner’s hypnotic new thriller Strange Darling is an invigorating work of genre filmmaking. From the first frame, Mollner and his crew conduct a thrilling tour de force of filmmaking, showing that there is still life to be pulled out of the textural, psychological impact film can have on us as viewers.

In this waning summer season of movie releases, we seem to be experiencing an abundance of riches when it comes to horror, suspense, and thriller offerings in 2024. So far this year, we've seen Longlegs, Trap, MaXXXine, In a Violent Nature—and that’s just in the past few months, with more still to come. Of all the films I had on my radar, I must admit Strange Darling wasn’t initially one of them. Based on early reports from SXSW 2023, it sounded not too dissimilar to Longlegs or Cuckoo—at least at a cursory glance. However, once I found a moment to take a closer look, my curiosity was immediately piqued.

Like many, I was immediately intrigued by the involvement of its director of photography, Giovanni Ribisi. Ribisi, a gifted actor who began his career in TV and sitcoms in the 1980s, moved into more notable roles as an adult in the '90s. He played Frank Jr. in Friends and Chad in Tom Hanks’ That Thing You Do. He’s memorable in the '99 remake of the '60s TV show Mod Squad and has one of the most heartbreaking scenes in Saving Private Ryan as medic Wade. If you haven't seen his work in films like Richard Linklater’s Suburbia or the many other great entries in his filmography, you should definitely check them out. He’s exceptional. So, when I first saw his name listed as a cinematographer, I had to look it up to confirm: Is this the same guy?

It is the same guy, and the thrilling work on display here makes me hope Ribisi continues down this path. The tension, ever-shifting perspectives, and intensity in Strange Darling are gorgeous. What's more surprising than its visual beauty is how intentionally told this film is. It digs into what you think it will be and twists a knotty, brutal grip of gender dynamics and storytelling around your throat, not letting go for 119 minutes.

What Mollner, Ribisi, and the two leads, Willa Fitzgerald as The Lady and Kyle Gallner as The Demon, have achieved with Strange Darling is an astonishing throwback to dark, thrilling, complex psychological thrillers. The cat-and-mouse structure is cleverly designed with a distinctly '90s vibe. What Mollner and the filmmaking crew—cast and craft alike—create is a constant, visceral dance of tension, creative visual revelation, and a bouquet of filmmaking tricks.

From its marketing, Strange Darling is pitched as a one-night stand gone wrong turned serial-killer chase—and smartly so. You’re led to expect a run-of-the-mill adult thriller: a hapless woman escapes the torturous clutches of a murderous man who may have been doing nefarious things to her just minutes before the title card appears. A murderous, unconventional chase ensues.

Strange Darling opens with a loaded question “Are you a serial killer?”. It’s asked- mostly in jest but though entirely loaded with dread by the Lady, played by Ella Fitzgerald, to a rugged Boy Scout type (Gallner) sitting in the drivers seat of an expensive pickup, parked outside a roadside motel. The type that bills by the hour. From there a playful game of dos and don’ts, consents and boundaries are set by this nervous young woman (Fitzgerald) for whats about to go down in that motel.

Once inside their energy is clumsy, with power roles shifting from seduction to seduction, until this two-step dance quickly escalates into a tautly choreographed sprint through the minefield of modern dating, sexual boundaries, and power dynamics.

from there the film becomes something akin to Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer told like a gender-flipped, psycho-sexual Tom-and-Jerry rom-com unfolding over six crosscutting chapters and shifting perspectives. Throughout Mollner doesn’t just wink at the anxiety surrounding today’s fraught sexual politics and gender dynamics; he upends them, escalating the tension into something kinkier and deadlier.

Fitzgerald and Gallner are commanding as The Lady and The Demon, and Fitzgerald’s hypnotically feral performance gives Amy Elliot Dunne a run for her sociopathic money. This is a sort of cat-and-mouse game between Gallner and her becomes one where you can’t quite tell who is the cat and who is the mouse.

The game they play is deliciously intense, with Gallner, Fitzgerald at Mollner ratcheting up the tension to the shocking denouement. Fitzgerald, in particular, tears into her role, but Gallner’s performance is equally gripping. It all builds into a climactic confrontation that sometimes feels like Rutger Hauer in The Hitcher, with shades of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Tobe Hooper -1974) and I Spit On Your Grave (Meir Zarchi -1978). Also, as an aside between this and In A Violent Nature, the calming and peaceful tranquility of a nice meditative forest is having quite a moment.

There’s also a phenomenal appearance by Ed Begley Jr. and Barbara Hershey as an oddly sanguine, doomsday-prepping hippie couple living in rural Oregon. Their grand craftsman home is surrounded by loudspeakers blaring a mysterious sermon- or warning, though it’s unclear where it’s coming from or whether it’s a warning for outsiders or directed to the inhabitants inside.

The level of commitment to craft on display in Strange Darling elevates what might at first glance feel like just another attempt at a kind of Eli Roth or Rob Zombie grindhouse exercise churned through another Quentin Tarantino cinematic look pack. Instead, Mollner and crew seem intent on accomplishing more than just an aesthetic short hand for cool effect— Strange Darling delights in dedicating as much attention if not more to the dramatic stakes of the story and its structure as it does on its (bordering on) ostentatious aesthetics. Strange Darling isn’t all just winky references to films from a grittier, bygone era- softened and blunted for a flat-screen 4k crowd at home. From its use of color throughout the photography, costume and set design, to how simplistic the story’s structure is so meticulously shattered and then re-ordered to maximal effect. The film's telling in six chapters isn’t necessarily told in chronological order, but in a precise sequence that Mollner engineers perfectly for the story.

The film constantly surprises, never taking you where you expect. Just when you think you know, it goes even further, making you feel like you’re in capable hands. It all culminates in a deeply gratifying experience at the cinema and one worth seeking out in the abundance of genre fare available to audiences today. Strange Darling is a work of highly of confident genre-bending cinema - both timely and timeless.

-Charles Elmore



LEFT-HANDED FILMS - The Cotton Club by Charles Elmore

Left-Handed Films - A re-evaluation of minor works from major directors.

Left-Handed Films is an ongoing exploration into films considered minor works by major and significant filmmakers throughout the past century of Cinema. In our inaugural essay, I’m exploring the reworking of Francis Ford Coppola’s controversy-plagued film from 1984, “The Cotton Club”.


TOMMY GUNS AND TAP DANCING

A re-evaluation of Francis Ford Coppola’s “The Cotton Club”

By Charles Elmore


“I specialize in being the ringmaster of a circus that’s reinventing itself.”

- Francis Ford Coppola

“Intrigue, anger, blackmail, deceit, pussy galore, macho grandstanding, backstabbing, and threats to life and career plagued the five-year making (and near unmaking) of The Cotton Club. The treacheries involved were so bizarre that The Godfather and Scarface combined pale by comparison. I can only tell some of the story—not wanting my life insurance canceled.”

- Robert Evans


As is often the case in cinema, the best films are discovered, not seen, and sometimes the best discovery you’ve seen might just be laying right under your nose in plain sight. Such is the case for Francis Ford Coppola’s reworking of the 1984 Harlem Renaissance/gangster opus “The Cotton Club”, remastered and lightly re-edited closer to his original vision that released recently on Blu-ray after years of languishing in American Cinema exile, thanks in no small part to an infamous and wildly litigious production history and frequent feuds between creatives and partners that often spilled out into the trades.

Coppola taking on the writing and directing of "The Cotton Club” was, for all intents and purposes, intended to be a stabilizing gig as well as a sort of return to the sweeping scale of his Godfather era.

Spearheaded by former head of Paramount Studios and Hollywood party boy Robert Evans - who had recently left the security of studio management for a more prestigious production deal within the studio he helped roll the stone away and resurrect just a few decades earlier. Not to mention more fame, coke, women and ownership. However, even with the titanic talent assembled, fired, and then recast, it was a project mired in controversy, overshadowing its artistic merits for decades. At first announced as Evans' directorial debut - a gig he landed financing for based solely on a poster and a tagline - the film’s budget quickly inflated, and after losing interest from actors like Richard Pryor and Sylvester Stallone and cooling interest from director Robert Altman who had made a hit for paramount with the quirky live-action POPEYE. Evans made a Hail Mary act of desperation to a Francis Ford Coppola. A director he once openly derided as “Prince Machiavelli”. Yet Coppola and “The Godfather” had made Evans as famous and influential amongst hollywood dealmakers as it established its director as a mercurial and defiant artistic force. Coppola and his former Paramount Studios head frequently butted heads in the public square of the industry trades, but after Evans optioned a pictorial history book on the titular storied Harlem club during the storied Harlem Renaissance and ran aground on getting a working script written. Evans called his former director, who he described often as “The Prince”, saying “I got a sick kid, and I need a good doctor.” Coppola and Evans both found themselves in financial binds both distinct and individual to their circumstances that found both of them mutually and defiantly striking an agreement to make “The Cotton Club”.

After that initial good idea to option the material, Evans, now on his own and floundering after a gilded career as a Hollywood enfant terrible studio head with a Midas touch; and without a bottomless check from Charlie Bludhorn, proceeded to secure financing independently through private equity, what he would smirkingly describe as OPM or Other Peoples Money. A feature now so common in filmmaking that you could look to a film like Cotton Club as casting the dye in which most all modern non-studio films are made. Inflated packaging fees, rising production costs due to ambitious filmmaking all offset by the corporate/private equity set that for all intents and purposes practically eliminate any oversight for safety of crew, economic security, and worse, literal threats to life. All studios have to do today, thanks in part to indie cinema financing from the 70s-90s, as well as intrepid - if not always intelligent - ambitious producers who can negotiate good in a boardroom or on the back nine to get their ego projects funded. Here, Evans cut a circuitous route through casino magnate money, money from the wealth of a burgeoning Middle East financial influence and along the way cut-throat deals with shady businessmen and Puerto Rican bankers that ultimately lead to the mob-like hit on a financing partner that set up a bunk deal with Evans. All to get his more commercial spin on “the Godfather” but set against the backdrop of the Harlem Renaissance off the ground.

It would be a series of unfortunate and poorly considered choices that make a film like “The Cotton Club” in any form a miracle that one even gets to see it in finished form. No less a more realized form than the director and visionary behind the film intended. Such is the case often for miraculous films that seem doomed to failure before the first “Pictures Up” is yelled from the AD team. You still see it manifesting occasionally in films today, no less of an example being Martin Scorsese’s brilliant adaptation and infamous financing of The Wolf Of Wall Street - already a film about a financial predator with questionable moral character. Not Scorsese’s financing of, mind you, but how the film itself was financed and packaged before it even landed on Scorsese’s desk. That film secured a large part of its financing through a Malaysian financial equity group called 1MDB, whose operators included con man Jho Low who spent wildly to cavort around with celebrities like Leonardo DiCaprio, Paris Hilton, and The Fugees. All greatly documented in vivid detail in the film Man On The Run directed by Cassius Michael Kim. However, with the distance of the chaotic drug-fueled environment - speaking now of the Cotton Club era not the Wolf of Wall Street era - this 2019 reworking, titled “The Cotton Club Encore”, Coppola aimed to correct his vision, shedding light on the intricate tapestry of the Harlem Renaissance era while restoring the film's rightful place in cinematic discourse.

At its core, "Cotton Club Encore" serves as a testament to Coppola's enduring commitment to storytelling. In revisiting this narrative, Coppola delves into the vibrant world of 1930s Harlem, a melting pot of culture, music, and societal tensions. Unlike his earlier masterpieces like "The Godfather" series or "Apocalypse Now," which garnered immediate acclaim, "Cotton Club" faced challenges in its reception, both critically and commercially. Yet, Coppola's persistence in refining and reimagining his work underscores his dedication to his craft.

The film transports viewers to 1920s Harlem, immersing them in a world of jazz, cultural and racial clashes, and ambitious dreams. Gregory Hines delivers a compelling performance as a budding tap dance performer navigating the challenges of a racially divided society, while Robert Gere captivates as a figure caught in the Cotton Club's web of intrigue. Set against the backdrop of the legendary Cotton Club, a hub of jazz and entertainment where “Duke Ellington and Cab Calloway had fronted the house band, and such performers as Ella Fitzgerald, Bessie Smith, Lena Horne, Josephine Baker, Fats Waller, and Ethel Waters were regular entertainers” “Mobsters, celebrities, members of high white society, and political bosses were equally at home in the establishment”. Working from a script co-written by Pulitzer Prize-winning writer William

Kennedy with some story assistance by Mario Puzo, Coppola’s film intertwines the lives of the aspirational characters on the margins of 1920s prohibition navigating the complexities of race, class, territorialism, and ambition while trying to get into, or ultimately on stage of the biggest club in Harlem. Central to the film's magnetism is its ensemble cast, comprised of seasoned character actors and emerging talents, most pulled from Coppola’s recent cast of collaborators. Gregory Hines delivers a stellar performance as Sandman Williams, an aspiring tap-dance performer who - along with his performing partner and real-life brother Maurice Hines, strive for recognition and opportunity at the club in a racially divided society, while Richard Gere portrays a captivating Clark Gable type with a knack for jazz bugling finds himself entangled in the club's illicit dealings when he’s befriended by James Remar’s temperamental and hot-headed gangster Dutch Schultz who finds himself embroiled in a turf war with current mob boss Owney Madden portrayed vividly by Bob Hoskins in one of his early prominent roles in American films. They’re all drawn together and ultimately at odds over the frequently vacillating desires of the quintessential flapper-cum-gangster moll Vera Cicero played with a feline-like playfulness by Diane Lane. One of Coppola’s oft-overlooked gifts as a director has not just been his frequent collaborations with the best actors of his time but in expertly rounding out the dense world of supporting characters with a murderer’s row of up and coming talent as well as old Hollywood legends. Lawrence Fishburne's portrayal of a charismatic gangster Bumpy Rhodes is captivating, while Nicolas Cage's early break-out performance here foreshadows his future stardom and distinct approach to character. Not to mention some phenomenal stunt casting in Fred Gwynne as Owney’s bodyguard Frenchy- we know Gwynne more likely as the cranky and confused judge in “My Cousin Vinny” or most likely as the head of the house in 1969 tv series “The Munsters”. A particular favorite discover here is in Julian Beck, portraying the calm but crocodile-like henchman Sol Weinstein to Remar’s up-and-coming crime boss. Julian Beck haunts all our Gen-X dreams thanks to his terrifying role as Kane from Poltergeist II. Not to mention turns from Jennifer Grey, Joe Dellesandro, Woody Strode, Giancarlo Esposito, Bill Cobb, Mario Van Peebles, and more! Coppola's meticulous attention to character and bringing them to life allows for these performers to shine, infusing the film with a charisma other “gangster” films often forego for the sake of more explosive rounds from the Tommy Gun over a barrage of newspaper headline montage.

Visually, “The Cotton Club Encore" is visually ravishing, thanks in equal turns to the technical team Coppola found himself the ring-leader of. From the cinematography of Stephen Goldblatt - the cinematographer on Tony Scott’s brilliant and inky black sapphic vampire film “The Hunger”. Here Goldblatt was brought in to inject a bit of that Gordon Willis prince of darkness magic after Willis himself declined to return to the chaos of a Coppola/Evans ran set. Capturing the visual essence of 1930s Harlem, Goldblatt's lens brings to life the opulent interiors of the Cotton Club and the bustling streets beyond. The film's costume design headed by legendary costumer (and Tulsan by marriage!) Milena Canonero (Grand Budapest Hotel, The Shining) and trademark craftsmanship from Chinatown production designer Dick Sylbert’s. The craft and production design harmonizes into not just an approximation of nostalgia but a literal transportation of viewers right in the thick of an era fraught with glamour, violence, and intrigue. Furthermore, Coppola's command of this circus and his new approach to the film adding twenty more minutes of plot, Coppola breathes new life and a brisker pace into the narrative, seamlessly integrating musical performances that serve as both spectacle and commentary. The film's pacing is brisk yet deliberate, ensuring that each scene contributes to the overarching themes of identity and belonging. The gentle reworking and added touches have made “The Cotton Club Encore” a film in a filmmaker’s oeuvre a significant work worth seeking out and studying. Both for its cautionary tale of production and for its entry in a body of work by a major American auteur making films well into his 80s.

Unlike his contemporaries, like Lucas, Spielberg, or Scorsese, Coppola often eschewed lingering on any one specific subject within his filmmaking. Instead often seeking out a more omnivorous and pioneering storytelling approach and exploration through the medium. Often the story itself serves as more a kernel for his more techno-geek obsession and life theater passion to thrive unfettered. Never one to stagnate on a subject Coppola’s rather more distinct defining characteristic is his mercurial tenacity to attain and hold total creative control over his films while pushing for innovative methods and filmmaking techniques. Even with the hired hand films he often found himself taking to stave off financial ruin, Coppola often attacked the making of the film with the same wild man curiosity of innovating the form as he did in his early groundbreaking films like “The Conversation” and “Apocalypse Now”. “Cotton Club Encore” is imbued with this spirit and is in my estimation saved by that artistic tenacity in spite of so many near-fatal missteps taken in bringing the film to life. It is this restless and tenacious spirit Coppola has since re-ignited in his elder-statesman phase of his career where he can revisit and tinker with his films - that along with a pretty significant rights ownership clause in all his work since Apocalypse Now that has allowed him to (mostly) retain ownership of his films, in just the last decade he’s released re-edited versions of The Godfather part Three, now renamed The Godfather Coda - so as to distance it from the dismissive nature around its initial release, as well as recuts of Apocalypse now. Giving some newfound love and consideration to “The Cotton Club” he has both the distance of time from the wounds of production as well as the wise clarity to see a better film from the mired history of its making. Despite its troubled production history, "Cotton Club Encore" emerges as a triumph of resilience and artistic vision. Coppola's decision to revisit and refine his work reflects a desire to honor the legacy of the Harlem Renaissance and the cultural significance of the Cotton Club itself. In doing so, he elevates the film from a forgotten relic to a timeless exploration of race, power, and the pursuit of dreams. It is often only with time that a film can truly be judged on its own creative statement and merit. Films are often judged both in the time they’re released and eventually in the time they are discovered and viewed in renewed curiosity detached from the period or controversy that may have dulled a film’s luster unnecessarily. Francis Ford Coppola's reworking of "The Cotton Club" stands as a testament to the enduring power of a bit of artistic temerity and the power of cinema. Through meticulous craftsmanship and a commitment to storytelling, Coppola invites audiences to rediscover the magic of 1930s Harlem and the indelible imprint of the Cotton Club on American culture. As the curtains close on this cinematic journey, one thing remains clear: sometimes, the greatest discoveries lie hidden in plain sight

, waiting to be unearthed and celebrated for generations to come. “The Cotton Club Encore” is available on Blu-ray through most retailers, as well as free to watch on numerous streaming platforms.

Endnotes and References

+ pg 327, “The Kid Stays In The Picture”, Robert Evans

* pg 339 Tap dancing through minefields, Michael Schumacher, ”Francis Ford Coppola - A filmmaker's Life”

** pg 336 Tap dancing through minefields, Michael Schumacher, ”Francis Ford Coppola - A filmmaker's Life”

*** pg 342, Tap Dancing through minefields, Michael Schumacher, ”Francis Ford Coppola - A filmmaker's Life”

Minor Moving Images by Charles Elmore

MINOR MOVING IMAGES

Brief notes on an obsession by Charles Everett Elmore II

A "Major Motion Picture", as defined, means any film which is financed or distributed by a motion picture studio or distributor, at least according to lawinsider.com.

"A Major Motion Picture Event" is how films were often advertised during the flurry of trailers that flickered across shopping mall movie screens, drive-ins of my adolescence of the mid 80s and 1990s through the eventual corporatization and big boxification of movie going in the later half of the 90s on into the 2000s.

If you were going to be talking about a movie that fall when school started again, you made it a point to make it to the "movie event of the summer", lest you be caught with your proverbial movie pants down when everyone else laughs about the thing the guard does to Linda Hamilton in T2 and you look like a cheap dupe. If you didn’t want to seem like some simpleton at the Tupperware party, you know the idiot who thought problem child 2 was great, you’d better have seen Neil Jordan’s Crying Game before the second week of its theatrical run.

I was sat in front of a screen with a variation of a channel switcher at an early age. Practically at birth though not quite. While not my "first", an early "first movie" memory is watching the opening minutes of "A Nightmare On Elm Street" at the age of 5 (circa 1985) while no doubt at a party my mother, still barely in her 20s, dragged me along to. I made it to Nancy in the hallway in the bodybag and well I haven't been able to turn a terrified eye away from a flickering screen since. A universal baby sitter for many of my generation, the ubiquity and affordability of cable TV in the early 90s made for a (mostly) 24/7 media buffet for this unattended latchkey kid. Fill in the rest of the bored childhood of a single parent, working poor household with weekends in multiplexes, peak MTV and prime 90s comic books and my career choices seemed inevitable although in my case growing up in Claremore, Oklahoma especially narrow.

With what little my father was able to scratch together to send me to the only school we could afford I set off to learn a skill that could perhaps put me professionally and creatively in the arena where all this magic that I'd been captivated by all my life - an 18 month AA degree in Media Production at a tech school for art nerds called The Art Institute of Seattle. I’m sure in my fathers eyes all those hours watching anime on Sci-fi, 5 for $5 fridays at popcorn video or VH1s docs that rock weekend marathons instead of reading or excelling in athletics and academics like my classmates would be worth it. I fell in love with the craft as much as I fell in love with the language of the medium. I grew up with everything from Fern Gully to where the red fern grows, from Millers Crossing to A Clockwork Orange, been to all the cinematic wars and even brought the war home with John Rambo but it took college to expose me to Kurosawa, Bergman, Maya Daren, Un Chien Andalou and so much more. 99 was a titanic year for movies and being a lonely kid from a small town in Oklahoma going to school alone in Seattle and to sooth my isolation I occupied the scalloped environs of the cineplex odeon, the pacific place general cinema. I saw Pi at the broadway ave cinema. I remember seeing the trailer to Magnolia before Kevin Smith’s catholic scat comedy Dogma at the Uptown Theater and thinking about nothing else but those whip pans for the rest of the day. If it weren't for Harbor Video on 3rd and Lenora in Seattle, around the corner from my apartment, I never would've discovered Noah Baumbach, Wes Anderson, Lynn Ramsey, Godard, Truffaut! If David Satlin my film theory professor hadn't declared in class, spring '99, that Verhoeven's Showgirls, still camp at the time, would eventually be heralded as a masterpiece of capital C cinema or that films have a language and grammar and often times are saying lots of things at once I might never have seen this medium beyond anything more than just some pop trifle to be consumed, judged and ultimately discarded in slavish anticipation of the next impermanent bauble of gratification.

Wether it was the cafeteria before 1st period or after the thursday-midnight screening, the conversation revolving around the film both leading up to and after was as much a primary part of the movie experience as watching it. Now it seems the conversation around these major motion pictures, these sources of magical inspiration and entertainment, the dialog that this medium that speaks no language yet speaks to all and gives a language to those who find it hard to speak seems to be ever increasingly turning into minor moving images. Where all we offer in commentary are cursory and fleeting observations, snark or bon motts on the misfires or ambitious failures. Like faded photos in our parents house we no longer revere these works in the same honor they seemed to have once held decades past.

Now in 2022, as the year comes to a close, many critics, bloggers, film twitter, the purists, all of them are clutching their pearls, wringing hands and waving handkerchiefs with a case of the vapors at the tenuous precipice that cinema finds itself in the current zeitgeist. Now some 135 years since the first sequential image of an object in motion (see this years NOPE from Jordan Peele for that cinematic nod to our mediums history) it seems MOVIES, and movie going itself, are at a fraught crossroads of relevance in our society. While the film twitter phalanx exchange opprobrium about Marvel this and Sight and Sound that the capitalist everywhere are figuring out how to turn this art-form into yet another consumer deliverable good that can be tailored direct to consumer (in this case the extreme viewpoint consumer; think hallmark movie or more dour and extreme, in the case of my home states industry, the hallmark movie for the hobby lobby crowd)

Film is such a special form of human expression in that it has the most universality in speaking to us as a race of beings. It is the lingua franca for when we are incapable of deciphering foreign tongues or voices. Much like the experience of human interaction itself, seeing a panoply of films from a tapestry of regions and cultures and storytellers can broaden the spectrum of your empathy. These empathy machines, as Roger Ebert coined them, have not only been there to entertain and anesthetize us to an extent but also to hold a mirror to ourselves. A reflecting mosaic holding ourselves accountable to history, to our community, to our culture through the same storytelling tradition as the pre-industrial oral storytellers and culture keepers. To diminish this art-form and how we view it in our culture to such minor and insignificant relevance in our culture would be analogous to letting a language - and the understanding of it - die out forever in favor of turning it into just another commodity to be profited off of. You know like it’s always been.

when I was at peak watching age, movies - and movie going itself - were always as much socially driven as they were driven by any force of marketing. You'd see a movie people were talking about as much as you'd see the movies the TV, radio or newspapers dedicated the most advertising ink or airwaves to. This has all certainly changed since the advent of streaming, and while streaming predates COVID, the 2020 pandemic will certainly go hand and glove with the historical significance of this era in movie going and movie watching, not to mention and probably more significantly, the impact on the the movie making side of the artform.

So at this perilous crossroads of the medium and the form’s manufacturing it is honestly an exciting and thrilling time while equally a bit disheartening. This is the time where, what does Miles Bron call them, the disrupters can come in and inject new life into this language, bring new stories through this medium to life, new myths given the cinematic treatment to edify and enlighten us, because films while always a portal into the current moment while also a reflection into the past are more often oracles of where we can be headed as a society and race. Like all art it can be a Molotov cocktail in the hands of the put upon, the abused, the marginalized, the obscure, the foreign, the beautiful, the necessary.

This art form matters too much to let it be discarded to the 5 dollar bin of human history and consumer culture. Where “new blood” can bring a new life to the form. Maybe we can bring them back to being major motion picture events.

It’s why I chose the name Minor Moving Images. In my adulthood, now 20 on years in a profession I honestly never thought I’d make it in let alone get to write thoughtful and impassioned criticism on, this artform matters more now to me than ever and my hope here at this outlet is to post observations on the artform, hot takes of current offerings, some thoughts on the medium’s history and occasionally maybe stories or anecdotes from my experience working on various film and television projects that I’ve been fortunate to work on and the artists and colleagues I get to work alongside.

- CEE II, 27 12 2022