Supergirl

Milly Alcock and Matthias Schoenaerts

Indifferently received by critics and audiences alike, I was not very psyched to watch Craig Gillespie's Supergirl, but I ended up being slightly glad I did. The super hero cosmos does very little for me. Even when I was a lad, way back in the 1960s, comic books never floated my boat. Superman is the absolute worst, an übermensch without Nietzchean aggro is not the kind of protagonist I am interested in. However, the super hero genre has yielded a few good films, as even the most despised genres sometimes do. I appreciated the comic and juvenile tone of Ana Nogueira's script for Supergirl. It is reminiscent of the Guardians of the Galaxy films in its use of PG-13 humor. The opening title includes Supergirl's dog, Krypto, urinating. Indeed, urination is a constant motif in the film as the characters mark their territory.

I would be cautious in letting tots see this film, but not because of the pee. The plot hinges on PTSD triggering violence and a search for revenge. Director Gillespie does not emphasize the violent deaths like a Peckinpah, Supergirl couldn't nab an R rating that way, but the film has some dark corners. We first meet Supergirl (Milly Alcock) trying to drink away her demons. In the inevitable flashback, we see the cause of her trauma and the beginning of her unhappy exile on Earth. She really gets PO'ed when a dastardly brigand named Krem (Matthias Schoenaerts) poisons her pooch. Krem has the antidote, so Supergirl must find him and extract her pound of flesh. Joining her in this quest is a younger lass named Ruthye (Eve Ridley). Ruthye's entire family has been massacred by Krem and she is obsessed with revenge. Supergirl is initially leery of Ruthye, but they soon develop a camaraderie. This was the primary charm of the film for me. Gillespie helps create a heathy rapport between his two young actresses that reminded me of the friendship and mentorship between Xena and Gabrielle; without the sapphic tease.   

Supergirl's CGI is on the cheesy side, but it is appropriate to the project. The hair and makeup are outstanding. I love the way Jason Momoa's bounty hunter looked like a cross between Gene Simmons and Randall "Tex" Cobb. Momoa is well cast and seems to have found his groove as a performer. Mr. Schoenaerts offers an amusing comic riff on dumb villainy. He seems well aware that his character has one dimension and is a mere bowling pin made to be knocked down by the hero, like Wile E. Coyote. Only David Corenswet is unsatisfactory. He is too stiff even for the Man of Steel. That cannot be said for Mr. Gillespie's direction. Supergirl is his most likable film since Lars and the Real Girl. It's final reel contains too much Biff, Bam, and Pow for me even, but such are the requirements of the genre.           

The Verdict (1946)

                   Sydney Greenstreet and Peter Lorre                

Don Siegel's The Verdict, released in 1946, is a slightly above average mystery film. It is a B picture filmed entirely on the Warners' lot and set in 1890's London. The fog machines work overtime in this one. Sydney Greenstreet is the lead and plays a police inspector whose faulty investigation results in an innocent man going to the gallows in the film's opening section. Because of this, he loses his job, but a subsequent murder gives him an apparent chance at redemption. Peter Lorre is along for the ride as a dissipated painter who is Greenstreet's best bud, Lorre functions as comic relief and gets the lion's share of the film's best lines. When his landlady, frightened by the recent string of murders, tells him that she is going to bed with a police whistle, he replies, "How would you blow a whistle if somebody cuts your throat?"

The Verdict's script is a series of hoary cliches, but the film boasts solid performances. George Coulouris is enjoyably effective as Greenstreet's successor and bête noir. Joan Lorring, Rosalind Ivan, and Arthur Shields are all sterling in support. This was Siegel's first directoral effort after making his mark in the Warner's editing department with such eye catching credits as Casablanca and Gentleman Jim. His work on The Verdict displays some flourishes that belie a director eager to make his mark. His use of the crane and whip-pans (during a trial sequence) are striking, but are somewhat removed from the no nonsense style he would develop as a mature director. The Verdict is better than most routine programmers, but is more an amusing diversion than the indelible films Siegel would eventually direct.

A night with Lou Reed

Lou Reed

A night with Lou Reed is a terrific concert video taken from a show at The Bottom Line in New York City in February of 1983. The newly sober and married Reed is on his best behavior, clearly chuffed to be playing live with the most accomplished band of musicians he ever toured with. That band--Robert Quine on guitar, Fernando Saunders on bass, Fred Maher on drums--had recorded The Blue Mask with Reed, his best release in many a moon. The follow up to that album, also recorded with the same band, Legendary Hearts was due to be released in March. Before an intimate audience of yuppies and Andy Warhol, the quartet provides a robust show of new material and oldies, quite a few dating from the days of the Velvet Underground.   

The video is competently directed by Clark Santee, but is missing four numbers from the concert. Still, the world probably doesn't need another live version of Heroin. I slightly prefer the versions of the songs on this video to the versions on the Live in Italy album which was recorded by the same band later that year. Both Saunders and Quine were exemplary improvisers and Reed provided them more leeway than was usual in his touring band. It is particularly unusual for a bass player in a rock band to be given the chance to provide numerous solos and flourishes as Saunders did for Reed, but Saunders was an accomplished jazz player who had already accompanied such guitar luminaries as Jeff Beck and John McLaughlin. Reed's joy at Saunders' solo on New Age here reflects the enormous pleasure he got from Saunders' playing. Saunders ended up contributing to Reed's albums and tours into the 21st century, remarkable given the track record of testy Lou.

Fernando Saunders, Lou Reed and Robert Quine

Such was not the fate of Robert Quine. A lifelong Velvets fanatic, he and Reed parted ways in 1984, never to collaborate again. Quine was not overly fond of touring and retreated to session work. Reportedly, Quine played on Legendary Hearts' followup, New Sensations, but his contributions were erased by Reed after the two wrangled over the writing credits for I Love You, Suzanne. Besides his work with Reed, Quine's sizzling guitar work is best sampled on the two Richard Hell and the Voidoids albums and the explosive passages he lent to Matthew Sweet's albums in the 1990s. While not as ecstasy inducing as 1969: The Velvet Underground Live, A night with Lou Reed is an impressive document of a short lived band in cozy surroundings. Lou doesn't have to hector vocally as much as he does on the Live in Italy. This video was released on VHS and Betamax in 1984 and there is a laser disc from the 1990s floating about which can be had on eBay. Luckily, A night with Lou Reed can be seen and more importantly heard for free currently on Tubi. It will please any and all rock and role fans.