Daalder at AFA: Here is Always Somewhere Else

Ambitious performance art “happenings” can be dangerous. Dutch-born artist Bas Jan Ader planned a grand climatic reception when he set off across the Atlantic in what would have been the smallest craft to accomplish the solo journey. Tragically, the boat made it, but Ader was lost at sea. Rene Daalder plumbs the significance of his friend’s life and death in Here is Always Somewhere Else (trailer here), which screens during the upcoming Daalder retrospective at the Anthology Film Archives.

Like Daalder, Ader immigrated from the Calvinist high north of Holland, to pursue an artistic career in Los Angeles. Both made names for themselves, following somewhat idiosyncratic paths. However, the story of Ader’s father looms particularly heavily over his son’s life. Bas Jan Ader, Sr. was a priest executed during WWII by the National Socialists for harboring Dutch Jews. Ader, Jr. was only two years old at the time. However, Daalder eventually draws some intriguing parallels between the Aders (not involving the father’s resistance heroics).

Leaving behind a relatively slim body of work, primarily experimental films and photos often featuring the artist falling victim to gravity, Ader is an enigmatic figure, even to those who knew him best. Yet, Daalder nicely places him in the context of the Dutch art of his time and the expat milieu. Indeed, for Daalder, Ader’s metaphysical inscrutability becomes part of his essence.

Somewhere has a poetic quality that will come as a jarring shift of gears compared to the VR animation and exploitation subversion that distinguishes so much of Daalder’s filmography. He and co-editor Aaron Ohlmann integrate Ader’s films and images in smartly evocative ways. The quietly authoritative quality of Daalder’s only slightly accented English narration is also rather effective. Arguably, it is one of the more artistic documentaries about art and artists, far more accomplished than many of the recent art-related docs which aired on Independent Lens (including the Oscar-nominated Waste Land).

Unlike some of Daalder’s films that will probably appeal more to a cult audience (which evidently includes myself), Somewhere can hang with any exclusive art-house documentary. It is a challenging, culturally literate film that well serves the reputation of both subject and filmmaker. Definitely recommended, it screens this Saturday (6/11) as the Daalder series continues at AFA.

Daalder at AFA: Hysteria

Patrick McGoohan will always be best remembered for championing the cause of individualism as Number Six in The Prisoner. Decades later he spearheaded the collective group-mind. Former Russ Meyer protégé Rene Daalder facilitated his defection in the strange psycho-thriller Hysteria, which screens during the Anthology Film Archives upcoming Daalder retrospective.

Dr. Samuel Fry likes to think he is still an idealist, yet he seems to have an unhealthy attachment to his patient Veronica Bloom, sound of body but not of mind. When economic difficulties close his sanitarium, he takes her with him to his next gig at Dr. Harvey Langston’s unconventional mental clinic. Unfortunately, not only is Langston rather insane himself, he has created a sort of networked consciousness with his patients.

As an aging mad scientist, Langston hopes Fry will succeed him as lunatic-in-chief. Even with the X-Files-style implant in his head, Fry tries to fight the power and maintain his individual sense of self. He has a glaring weakness though: Bloom.

Daalder has a talent for subverting exploitation genres while scrupulously maintaining their outward conventions. Again, there are enough bare breasts in Hysteria to satisfy the demands of late night cable. However, his story has considerable intellectual heft and a number of clever wrinkles. Down the stretch, it even approaches the surreal, which is not atypical of Daalder’s filmography.

Memorably playing against his Prisoner image, McGoohan (post-Braveheart) projects the perfect arrogantly erudite presence as Langston. As Myrna Malloy, the first-among-equals inmate, Amanda Plummer (post-Pulp Fiction) effectively keeps viewers off balance. Though his character is tad slow with his suspicions, Michael Maloney (post-Branagh’s Hamlet), nicely conveys Fry’s do-gooder superciliousness and self-delusions.

Though Hysteria was obviously a shoe-string production, it is far smarter than ninety-five percent of Hollywood tent-poles. While it periodically descends into gleeful madness, the meta-story is quite well conceived. Conversely, though Daalder’s Habitat from 1997 looks like a far more technically polished production, all the inventiveness seems to be reserved for the film’s CGI effects. Still, Daalder and frequent cinematographer Jean Lépine create a compelling nearly apocalyptic environment as well as a sense of ominous potential reminiscent of some of David Lynhc’s more grounded films. Highly recommended for cult movie enthusiasts, Hysteria screens this Friday (6/10) during AFA’s Daalder retrospective. For Daalder fans, Habitat also screens this Thursday (6/9).

Daalder at AFA: Massacre at Central High

It is sort of the anti-Beautiful Boy. There is no hand-wringing or soul searching over why a tightly wound high student starts killing his classmates. Kids, killing is always wrong, but just like in classic EC Comics, many of young David’s victims sort of have it coming in Rene Daalder’s Massacre at Central High (trailer here), which screens during the Anthology Film Archives upcoming Daalder retrospective.

David is the classic lone wolf type, but the mid-year transfer student has entre into Central’s ruling clique through his friend Mark. Though we never get the details, the action-oriented David did him a major solid years ago. Now that Mark’s fortunes have reversed, he wants to return the favor. However, David is having none of his thuggish elitist gang. The instant dislike is mutual. On the other hand, Mark’s girlfriend Theresa recognizes David’s integrity. Trouble is inevitable. When David, an avid runner, is hobbled by the Mark’s running mates, he loses his outlet for his rage. Revenge will fill the void. At this point, Central gets a wee bit subversive.

It is no secret David is offing the campus bullies. In fact, his popularity soars as a result. For about ten seconds or so, Central becomes an idyllic community—and then it becomes Lord of the Flies. Clearly, Central argues human nature abhors a vacuum. Suddenly, there is an opening at the top of the social food chain, which many of the formerly tormented covet. Naturally, they try to form alliances with David, but he does not react well to their hypocrisy.

In between creative death scenes and the occasional skinny dipping, Central offers some shrewd commentary on the nature of power and those who desire it. It is worth noting one of Central’s most cravenly opportunistic power seekers is Spoony, the hippie dude, played by Robert Carradine. (Imagine this film on a double bill with Revenge of the Nerds.)

In a further irony of casting, Central features two future Eight is Enough alumnus in radically different high school contexts. Kimberly Beck (Nancy in the pilot only) is a bit awkward at times, but not terrible as Theresa, while Lani O’Grady (Mary) is convincingly spacey as the evil flower child Jane. Though he hardly looks physically imposing, Derrel Maury projects psycho intensity quite well. Yet, Andrew Stevens, later to specialize in naughty late night cable thrillers, probably shows the most complex dimensions as the thoroughly conflicted Mark.

There is a temptation to overstate the allegorical aspects of Central. Daalder certainly offers some psychological insights, but it still delivers for the drive-in market (indeed, the accompanying picture has been strategically cropped). Still, it is rather invigorating to see exploitation done with such ambition. An odd but entertaining combination of camp and existentialism, Central deserves its cult status. Adventurous film lovers should definitely see Central on the big screen while they can, as the centerpiece of AFA’s highly recommended Daalder series, this coming Thursday (6/9) through Sunday (6/12).

Daalder at AFA: The White Slave

Director Rene Daalder’s eclectic film career included the designing the computer program that produced the distinctive animation for the otherwise undistinguished adaptation of Richard Matheson’s What Dreams May Come. After dabbling with film scripts, Rem Koolhaas would become a Pritzker Prize winning architect. Cinematographer Jan De Bont would eventually helm mid-1990’s blockbusters, like Speed and Twister. One would hardly guess anything of the kind was in store for the trio from watching The White Slave, their bizarre noir collaboration from 1969, which kicks off the Anthology Film Archives’ Daalder retrospective this coming Wednesday.

Kurt was a hero, who died as a result of his work in the Dutch resistance. His brother Günther is not so clear-cut. Evidently, they look quite a bit alike though, which means Kurt’s surviving lover Loudy is automatically quite interested in the long lost brother. However, the late brother’s heroism did not extend to fidelity. In fact, part of the business Günther has come to Amsterdam to attend to involves Kurt’s illegitimate daughter, Marlene. Yet, through an unlikely set of circumstances, Günther and Loudy are quickly swept up in a white slaving conspiracy that covets Marlene. Make no assumptions about their involvement though.

Aside from an apparently heavy reliance on coincidence, White starts out like a conventional film of continental intrigue, but Daalder (and co-writer Koolhaas) slowly but steadily crank up the weirdness until about halfway through, like frogs in boiling water, viewers realize they are watching one seriously odd film. Characters frequently respond to situations in wholly inappropriate ways and change their temperament and ethical nature several times over. While it all proceeds in an orderly linear fashion, it would still be a stretch to call the narrative logical. Indeed, absurdity with the trappings of international skullduggery seems to be the point of it all.

Resembling a flinty Charlie Rose, Günther Ungeheuer appropriately hams up brother Günther’s moral ambiguity. Andrea Domburg projects a certain Kristin Scott Thomas ice queen vibe as Loudy, while Karin Feddersen is at least decorative enough as Marlene. Indeed, the cast is fine, provided you do not get hung up worrying over details like motivation.

Thoroughly strange and ultimately a little unsettling, White is a slippery film to get a handle on. Clearly though, it could never be produced today, given its constant references to the cruelly perverted Arabs, for whom the captive women are intended. Recommended for adventurous genre enthusiasts, White screens during the AFA Daalder retrospective this Wednesday (6/8) and the following Sunday (6/12).