As they say in the movies: The End.
After a year of carefully
selecting clips and writing heart-felt, usually accurate captions,
Intense Guys is calling it a day. Thanks to all of the regulars who have
shared our enthusiasm for these movie moments: the wild and the
wonderful, and the obvious and obscure. And thanks to two of our
earliest supporters—and guest Intense Guys—Tom Charity and Phil
Campbell.
We’ve done this long enough to realize that we’ve only just
begun. There are enough great clips of favorite actors, death scenes,
spoiler-tagged endings—and 14 other categories—to keep Intense Guys
intense for years to come. But for now, at least, the projector spins to
a stop.
Thanks for watching,
Marc, Andrew and Rick Staehling
The Big Red One (1980) is Samuel Fuller’s most personal film.
It follows the U.S. First Infantry—the same division in which Fuller
himself fought and earned a Purple Heart—from North Africa to D-Day to
Czechoslovakia during World War II. It is one of the last films about
the war actually made by someone who experienced it first hand. In this
scene, “The Four Horsemen” as they were called, led by the legendary Lee
Marvin, don’t take too well to a fellow soldier’s disrespect of their
Italian comrade. The character of Zab (Robert Carradine), who provides
the voice over, was based on the director (note the famous Fuller
Cigar).
There’s a backlash brewing and it’s coming from the same folks that
pronounced Clint Eastwood a great director in 1992, a pretty good actor
in 1995 and then voted him two Oscars for Million Dollar Baby
in 2004. The new story—strange, but gaining traction—suggests the 78
year old Californian is losing a step behind the camera and was never
much in front of it. While we wait out this latest revisionist shit
storm we’ll revisit and relish some of Clint’s “lesser” roles: movie
veteran John Wilson in White Hunter Black Heart, Tightrope’s New Orleans detective Wes Block and in this clip, Texas Ranger “Red” Garnett who tangles good-naturedly with A Perfect World’s
criminologist Laura Dern. Clint gets his licks in here, but let’s his
costar have the last word. It’s a telling gesture from an actor who has
long known who he is, who he plays and how to make the best of both.
Scary movies are an interesting breed these days—seems like every other
one that comes out is either "torture porn" or a remake of something
Japanese or Korean. Enter director Neil Marshall. Until he stank it up
with 2008's Doomsday, the British filmmaker looked like a
beacon of horror purity among all these disconcerting trends. His big
claim to fame is the unqualified modern genre classic The Descent (2005), but he started things off a little more tongue-in-cheek with Dog Soldiers,
the best besieged-by-Scottish-werewolves flick we here at IG can think
of. Before the guns start blazing and the monsters are revealed, we get
this traditional yet terrific starting sequence, where tryst turns to
terror and tug-of-war.
Denis Lavant is one of the movies' great movers. Harmony Korine cast him as a Chaplin impersonator in Mister Lonely.
In North America he is probably most famous for his starring role in
the video for Unkle's "Rabbit in Your Headlights" (directed by Jonathan
Glazer). But French filmmakers have been hip to his extraordinary
physical prowess since the mid 80s, especially on the back of his films
with Leos Carax (Boy Meets Girl, Mauvais Sang and Les Amants du Pont Neuf). Claire Denis's Beau Travail is essential viewing. Almost a dance film, both abstract and elemental, it's a free version of Herman Melville's Billy Budd
transported to the French Foreign Legion in East Africa and scored to
Neil Young, Benjamin Britten, African blues and, here, Corona's dance
hit "Rhythm of the Night". Lavant plays the Claggert role. His climactic
dance is a kind of suicide rattle; it speaks of annihilation,
abandonment, the impossible impetus of desire.
The 1970s were not kind to Richard Burton. His film work in that delirious decade includes The Medusa Touch, Exorcist II: The Heretic, The Klansman, Hammersmith Is Out, Bluebeard, and as if one misguided biopic wasn't enough, The Assassination of Trotsky.
Which only makes the hard-drinking Welshman’s turn in this Alistair
MacLean-penned WWII thriller from the late 60s all the more welcome.
Burton’s working quietly here, not quite mocking the material, and with
the great Patrick Wymark on the receiving end of his perfectly phrased
bon mots, clearly having a good time. He should have: the film was a
hit, his American co-star Clint Eastwood was reportedly a rare pal on
the set, and Burton still had 14 years left in the tank. Wymark would be
dead in two.