Film Trace

In the season finale of our Visionary Remakes season, we investigate two versions of The Maltese Falcon, the original from 1931 and the more famous 1941 version.The Maltese Falcon has almost become shorthand for both Humphrey Bogart and the beginning of film noir. That famous film was preceded by a film adaptation a decade earlier, which itself was preceded by the hard boiled crime novel a year prior. The 1941 film has totally eclipsed both the original adaptation and the book in popular consciousness. Perhaps rightly so. John Huston's directorial debut is a masterwork in writing, editing, and acting. It has also been touted as one of the more rewatchable films from the era due to its production design, clockwork plot, and Bogart's enigmatic vibes.The Maltese Falcon is a great example of why some films should be remade. The remake improves pretty much every aspect of the original film. But our discussion takes a turn when Dan questions whether Falcon is truly a noir film. We dive deep into this topic and how labels and genres can often obfuscate the significance and heritage of a film. If The Maltese Falcon is not the first big noir film, then what gives it such a high value among film lovers and filmmakers? The answer of course lies within the film itself, not a genre label.

In episode six of our Visionary Remakes season, we explore two versions of the King Kong myth, the original from 1933 and the 1970s remake. We toss in a dash of Peter Jackson's 2005 version as well.Special Guest: Riley - Good friend of the show and true film buff King Kong is a cultural institution. How that happened is still a mystery to us children of the 1980s. We grew up with the original. The 1976 version had been memory holed by the time we were children. The 1933 version is iconic for many reasons honorable or not. The special effects were groundbreaking for the time and its blending of genres was unique. But problematic doesn't even begin to describe King Kong (1933). It is hard to watch it without feeling a strong sense of distaste and unease, even viewing it as a film artefact. The remake of King Kong from 1976 was a bold attempt to one-up Jaws which came out the year before. The summer blockbuster was born, but a big budget and spectacular marketing campaign do not make a hit. The making of King Kong 1976 would probably make for a better movie than what we got on screen. Mired in legal trench warfare, this remake tried to update the King Kong story to incorporate the cynicism of post-Nixon years. It fails mostly, but it does not disappoint. It is an interesting and bizarre watch that is getting reappraised by Zoomers, for better or worse. Lastly, the 2005 version probably needs its own episode. Peter Jackson's King Kong was highly praised upon its release, and it still is held in high regard. But Dan has more than a few bones to pick with its prestige.

In episode four of our Visionary Remakes season, we cross-examine two versions of Cape Fear, the original starring a creepy and enigmatic Robert Mitchum, and the 1991 remake from Martin Scorsese starring a crazed and manic Robert De Niro.Special Guest: Amanda Jane Stern - writer, producer and star of the award-winning psychosexual thriller Perfectly Good Moment. Streaming now on Tubi! Co-host of the podcast Don't Be Crazy.Both versions of Cape Fear are anchored by dazzling performances of the antagonist, Max Cady. Robert Mitchum reduces the overtly violent nature of Cady in order to play up his cleverness, obsessiveness , and wiliness. De Niro goes over the top in his version of Cady, playing him as zany, an almost comical but brutal cartoon villain. This difference underlines the drastically opposed tones, vibes, and outcomes of each version of Cape Fear. The 1962 original focused on the limits of justice. It clearly asks and attempts to answer where the line between enforced law and moral justice lives, albeit wrapped in a juicy and sensational B-movie plot. Scorsese's 1991 remake does not ask those questions, but it does drench us in pulpy genre stimuli: graphic violence, improprietous sexuality, and domestic disputes. The debate we have in this episode is whether either film is successful in its intended mission. Is the original too flat for a genre flick and perhaps too lofty to escape pretension? Do Marty and De Niro swing away and strike out, can a trashy thriller be too much even if it attempts to do nothing more than shock?

In episode two of our Visionary Remakes season, we survey the recent Coen brothers remake of True Grit (2010) and compare it to the original film, a John Wayne vehicle from 1969.Special Guest: Brian Eggert is the owner and film critic of Deep Focus Review, where he has written movie reviews, in-depth essays, and critical analyses since 2007. Brian also regularly appears on KARE 11, the NBC affiliate for the Twin Cities, to review and discuss movies. He belongs to the Society For Cinema and Media Studies, Minnesota Film Critics Alliance, Online Film & Television Association, International Film Society Critics, Independent Film Critics of America, The Critics Circle, and National Coalition of Independent Scholars.Westerns have gone through many cycles since the beginning of filmmaking. Right now, we are seeing an uptick in interest as the tv show Yellowstone dominates the traditional tv market. But back in 2010, Westerns were definitely far off in the background as comic book movies had begun to take over the box office. In 2010, the Coen brothers were coming off a very successful adaption of No Country for Old Men (2007) as well as two more left of center films, the sprightly spy romp Burn After Reading from 2008 and the niche existentialist A Serious Man from 2009. It is unclear why they decided to remake True Grit and focus on the novel from 1968 instead of the John Wayne movie which came a year later in 1969, but the choice was very successful. True Grit (2010) became the 2nd biggest Western in the modern box office.The 2010 True Grit showcases the refined talents of the Coens alongside the gorgeous cinematography of Roger Deakins, the layered and rich music from Carter Burwell, and a smashing breakout debut performance from Hailee Steinfeld as the lead Mattie Ross. The 1969 version of True Grit offers so much less. Despite John Wayne winning an Oscar for his portrayal of Rooster Cogburn, the original film seems totally out of step and out of time. In hindsight, it was an end-of-the-line production for the core creatives involved. The director, writer, and star actor were all at the end of their careers. Indeed this very type of Western was on its last leg as evidenced by the giant leap the genre made at the same time this film was being produced and released. Watch any of the bigger westerns from the late 1960s and then try to sit through True Grit (1969). The dislocation and disorientation is severe. The original True Grit was a swan song that came about a decade too late.

A House Divided: 2024 Films We Love, Films We HateIn this special episode, Dan and Chris delve into the films that split them down the middle—where one of us loved a movie, and the other couldn't stand it. It's our version of cinematic crossfire, complete with slightly heated debates and a dash of common ground by the end.Episode Highlights:--Intro: House Divided Origins--Trap & Longlegs--The Divide--I Saw the TV GlowA Quiet Place: Day OneHit ManMaxxxineLove Lies BleedingThe SubstanceCivil WarRebel Ridge--Dan vs. Chris: To Watch Lists--For Chris:Dan Hates: Strange DarlingDan Loves: Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, Speak No EvilFor Dan:Chris Loves: Conclave, Furiosa, PavementsChris Likes: A Real Pain, The Wild Robot, Kinds of Kindness, Will & Harper, Dear SantaChris OKs: Anora, Heretic, Cuckoo, My Old Ass, Transformers One, Woman of the HourChris Hates: Nutcrackers, Moana 2--Conclusion: Where We Agree--Both Hated IT: Twisters, Deadpool & Wolverine, Alien: Romulus, Abigail, Blink TwiceBoth Love: ChallengersBoth Like Sort Of: The Fall Guy

In episode seven of our Manhunt series, we traverse a gritty and rebellious San Francisco in Bullitt (1968) alongside an oddly sleek and barren Paris in Le Samouraï (1967).Bullitt is famous for two reasons: Steve McQueen and the car chase. Like most famous films, its celluloid holds many more layers than its reputation claims. Bullitt was a leap forward for crime thrillers. Its naturalism, meticulousness, and postmodern plot made it a harbinger for the decades to come. There is no Chinatown without Bullit nor Heat. That alone makes it a remarkable and important film. The car chase is maybe the best ever put on screen, so that doesn’t hurt it.On the other side of the Atlantic, Jean-Pierre Melville’s Le Samouraï takes us into the calculated, Zen-like existence of a contract killer, played with masterful restraint by Alain Delon. Unlike the exposed id of Bullitt, Le Samouraï draws its power from a detached coolness, which deepens as the films reaches its crescendo. The film's manhunt is quietly relentless. The glitz and glamor of Paris and a life of crime are ruthlessly stripped away scene after scene until the isolated hero makes a final existential leap.

In episode five of our Manhunt series, we discuss two films very rooted in the 1980s Aesthetic. First up is Michael Mann's neon blue serial killer thriller, Manhunter from 1986 followed by the bombastic and preposterous Schwarzenegger action movie, The Running Man from 1987. Special Guest: Friend of the show and co-host of the Screen Time: A Quarantine Family Podcast. BrigitteManhunter failed to make its money back at the box office when it was released in mid August 1986 on a dumping ground weekend. In the forty years since its release, the film has gained a rather prestigious reputation. The film of course established Hannibal Lecter as a film character. It was also one of the first serial killer movies where the subject matter was treated seriously as opposed to the more ghoulishly depictions often seen in b-movies. The FBI profiler, played by CSI skipper William Petersen, is shown to be slightly depraved, fully troubled, and mostly cold-blooded. Graham was an anti-hero before the term has much cache. Mann's flashy style has aged the best here along with the intertwined psychology of the hunter and hunted. It takes one to know one.The Running Man (1987) feels like the concept of an action movie. Cearly helmed by a seasoned tv director, the difference between the boob tube and pure cinema may never be more clear than this overly stuffed, rompous, and absurd action thriller. Arnold Schwarzenegger and Richard Dawson are at the Ponderosa Steakhouse eating up every scene in sight. That alone is worth watching. The rest, not so much. The source material, of course a Stephen King novel, is put in the shredder and out comes pastel and neon confetti that lights on fire the moment you touch it. It is a direct ancestor to the Schumacher Batman series, for better or worse.

In episode three of our Manhunt series, we delve into two films that helped redefine and revive the genre of pursuit. From South Korea, Memories of Murder (2003), a haunting and postmodern crime drama. From the United States, The Bourne Identity (2002), an adrenaline-fueled yet grounded spy thriller.Special Guest: the talented John Brooks from the great 1999 Podcast which covers all the films from that seminal year of film.Crime stories hinge on a denouement of justice. When that justice is denied, the audience is often left in suspended emotional agitation. We want to believe that violent crimes are always solved, and the villainous perpetrators are caught. That order is restored. Yet, reality dictates a much less clear cut finale to crime stories. Memories of Murder explores this ambiguity in its depiction of a real-life serial killer case, where answers are elusive, and the moral certainties dissolve in a haze of bureaucratic stagnation, intellectual flaccidity, and craven dispositions. Director Bong Joon-Ho crafts a deeply unsettling vibe where the boundary between good and evil fades, exposing the futility of the hunt and the flawed nature of those involved.In contrast, The Bourne Identity is sleek, fast-paced, and decidedly straightforward. This chase movie skips across Europe with the hunter and hunted dichotomy awhirl. Director Doug Liman invokes the stacco precision of a spy thriller but interweaves melodrama with Jason Bourne's fractured psyche. In many ways, Bourne is more indebted to the dutch-angled noir tradition than its most obvious predecessor, James Bond. With its relentless action and tightly wound narrative, the film strips away the nuance of morality found in Memories of Murder while delivering a linear yet captivating tale of survival, deception, and revenge.