Tar: It Came from La Brea

The La Brea tar pits are like ultimate primordial burial ground and the city of Los Angeles was basically developed right over them (and you know what happens to people who build over ancient remains in horror films). From time to time, the pits have appeared in movies, typically of the disaster variety. In this one, the evicted tenants of a down-market office building will not be lucky enough to have a conventional natural disaster to contend with. Instead, they must fight off something monstrous that has survived below in Aaron Wolf’s Tar, which opens this Friday in drive-ins and a few of those places where they project movies.

Things were strained between Zach Greenwood and his father Barry, even before their scummy landlord Sebastien Stirling terminated their decades-old lease with one day’s notice, forcing them to vacate, clean, and repaint by 6:00 am, or face $100K in penalties. Suddenly, they are scrambling to save the family repair business, as is the neighbor, accountant Diana Dunder of DD Accounting (if you don’t get the joke now, you’ll know it when you see it).

Of course, Greenwood’s slacker pal Ben is too busy not helping Dunder to do anything for him and his dad. At least their palm-reading assistant Marigold is an efficient packer. However, when the power is suddenly cut, it really sets them back—and then the mysterious “Tar Man” creature attacks.

Initially, Wolf creates a terrific group dynamic for the hodge-podge office mates and effectively establishes the tar-thing’s back-story through the legends told by “Carl,” the homeless La Brea story-teller. However, he relies a little too heavily on Greenwood family flashbacks and lets the attitude dissipate somewhat during the second half, as the monster-stalking-his-prey business overshadows the characters’ snarky arguments and horny double-entendre. In fact, viewers will probably be surprised how upset they get when supporting characters start to meet their genre-mandated fate.

Indeed, Tar has an unusually strong ensemble for a tongue-in-cheek monster movie half-spoof. Tiffany Shepis, Nicole Alexandra Shipley, and Dani Fernandez all earn big laughs as Marigold, Dunder, and her assistant, Carmenia. Stuart Stone oozes slime as Stirling, while Max Perlich projects flinty grit and wiry strength as Greenwood’s flashback grandpa. Similarly, Timothy Bottoms personifies world-weary regret as Barry Greenwood.

Dangerous Edge: Graham Greene’s Intrigue and Depression

During his tenure with British intelligence, Graham Greene reported directly to the notorious Soviet mole Kim Philby.  It was rather fitting the espionage novelist and chronic adulterer would be so closely associated with such a significant betrayer.  Yet, Greene consistently offered tortured defenses of his friend.  He was “complicated” that way.  Thomas P. O’Connor surveys the writer’s work and ironic life in Dangerous Edge: A Life of Graham Greene (promo here), which airs this Friday night on most PBS outlets.

Greene was never awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature, but he was nominated for an Oscar.  Indeed, with so many Greene's books and screenplays produced for the big screen, O’Connor has a wealth of cinematic imagery available to illustrate Greene’s oeuvre, without ever scraping the bottom of the barrel.  In fact, at least two of Greene’s scripts became outright masterpieces: The Third Man and Fallen Idol, both directed by Carol Reed.

Essentially, O’Connor focuses on three sides of Greene’s persona: the writer, the adventurer, and the adulterous, spiritually doubting manic depressive.  Much is made of Greene’s persistent “boredom,” his euphemism for depression, as well as his conversion to a decidedly flawed but earnest brand of Catholicism.  Greene’s biographers point to Greene’s reluctant status as the preeminent “Catholic novelist” of his time, while rather openly carrying-on with a woman who was not his wife, as one of the many great contradictions defining his life.  Fair enough.

O’Connor incorporates talking head interviews with some top shelf literary figures, including Sir John Mortimer, Paul Theroux, David Lodge, and John Le Carré, who (quite surprisingly) blasts Philby for coldly and deliberately causing the deaths of numerous colleagues.  Again, O’Connor was fortunate to have considerable audio recordings Greene, sounding like quite the acidic raconteur.  Bill Nighy also serves as the supplemental voice of the author, reading his letters and documents when the archival Greene is not available.  It is a rather classy package, narrated by Sir Derek Jacobi.

Aside from Le Carré, Edge’s participants largely give Greene a pass on Philby and related Cold War issues.  Great pains are taken to portray him as an equal opportunity geopolitical gadfly, but it is far from convincing.  Nonetheless, the complexity of Greene’s relationship to his Catholic faith should interest readers and viewers across the spectrum.  A well paced examination of a flawed but fascinating figure, Dangerous Edge follows Philip Roth: Unmasked (another unsuccessful Nobel contender, thus far), this Friday (3/29) on PBS stations nationwide.

Brit Noir: Brighton Rock

Catholicism is not the villain in Graham Greene’s novel Brighton Rock, per se, but it holds a rather ambiguous if significant place in the overall scheme of things. Like Greene, the somewhat reluctant convert, small time hoodlum Pinkie Brown is also a professed Roman Catholic, but there is no mistaking his sociopathic behavior. Yet, somehow an innocent working girl does exactly that in Rowan Joffe’s Brighton Rock (trailer here), the latest adaption of Greene’s noir morality tale, which opens this Friday in New York.

It is the mid-1960’s rather than the 1930’s of the novel and classic John Boulting film, but the characters’ prospects have not changed. Brown is a thug. Rose is a waitress. They both work on the bottom end of the food chain in the seaside resort town of Brighton (known for the titular rock candy). In no way is Rose his type, but circumstances force him to seduce her, at least temporarily. She happened to be on break when Brown’s accomplices were about to settle a score with a rival gangster and one of the tourist-preying photographers captured the moment on film. Rose was given the claim check, not that it meant anything to her. Of course, Brown’s gang will stop at nothing to get it, so Brown is sent in to employ his highly questionable charm on his fellow Catholic.

Rose’s boss Ida Arnold immediately sees through Brown. Though a respectable woman, she has some understanding of the way the world works. In fact, she was a friend of the man Brown’s gang murdered. Unfortunately, the love-struck young woman remains deaf to her warnings.

As crime drama, Brighton is a handsome diversion, but nothing classic. However, it is a joy to watch Dame Helen Mirren and John Hurt bicker, banter, and flirt as Arnold and her sort-of-not-really platonic gentleman friend Phil Corkery. They both invest their characters with charm and intelligence, developing genuine chemistry together.

Of course that spark is completely lacking (by design) for Sam Riley and Andrea Riseborough, as Brown and Rose, respectively. Yet, Riley never really works in the role, failing to convey the proper sense of malevolence as Brown, considered one of the most iconic heavies in British cinema and literature. As a consolation though, Andy Serkis chews the scenery with appropriate relish as Colleoni, Brighton’s local kingpin, proving he can make a substantial impression even when not buried under layers of prosthetics and CGI effects.

Based on their turns in Brighton, someone should cast Mirren and Hurt as Nick and Nora Charles-like sleuths investigating Andy Serkis as their primary antagonist. This is not that movie, but it has its moments. Regardless, it all looks great, thanks to the moody noir visual style and rich period details crafted by cinematographer John Mathieson and production designer James Merifield’s team. There is no question it is the old pros who save Brighton, but that is what old pros do. Recommended on balance, Brighton opens this Friday (8/26) in New York at the Angelika Film Center.