“Alphabet Murders, The” (1965) A presumed follow-up to the successful series of Miss Maple mysteries featuring Margaret Rutherford, this Hercule Poirot vehicle modestly features Agatha Christie’s other famous sleuth in name only as the master exerciser of “the little grey cells” and savagely reduces him from hyper-observant detective to a low music hall version of Inspector Clouseau. Certainly if the intentions of the producers were to, for whatever reason, obscure those elements of the source novel which has elevated it to iconic status in the mystery field and, instead, present an entirely reconceived mystery plot played (almost) strictly for comedy, then it might have been prudent to sufficiently salvage the dignity of the central character by ensuring the nature of the parodistic variances be identifiably organic to the more idiosyncratic features inherent in the genre and, more specifically, in Christie’s Poirot-based canon.
To read the complete review, click the following link to: https://chandlerswainreviews.wordpress.com/chandlers-trailers-short-bits-for-emerging-cinephiles-and-a-better-america/
“Card Counter, The” (2021) A haunted man roams a barren (both physically and morally) contemporary landscape in search of analytically intellectualized spiritual redemption: it must be a Paul Schrader film. Oscar Isaac expertly portrays the unfortunately named master card counter William Tell (a hint at Schrader’s lack of resistance at demonstrating his own ambiguous cleverness) whose restlessness of conscience the film fails to provide a convincing road map to enlightened redemption without the eventual wallowing in the all too foreseeable act of violence which seem to haunt much of Schrader’s ouevre, robbing his characters of…
“Hound of the Baskervilles, The” (1978) Anyone who has seen any film directed by Paul Morrissey under the weighty umbrella of Warhol should not be surprised that the director’s initial foray into studio comedy would be inhibited by a similar stagnation of mise-en-scene as well as a fatal disregard for pacing having any greater meaning than keeping the camera running. However, the failure of this parodistic version of the oft-filmed Conan Doyle classic owes more to co-scenarists and stars Peter Cook and Dudley Moore, the latter who also contributes a torturous piano score which often obscures much of the dialogue. Affixing impenetrable accents, often at shrill volumes further obscuring…
about them than before seeing that film? This is one of the lingering problems with Baz Luhrmann’s hopelessly frenetic
We are actually excited about the reinstatement of Bob Iger as Walt Disney Company CEO after the unimpressive long-weekend term of his successor Bob Chapek. This suggests a promising strategy of restructuring the company in which each previous head of the company will be reinstated in reverse order until the power of ultimate control is reinstated back to dear old Uncle Walt. The fact that he’s deceased is immaterial as the studio might simply follow a practical credo “Better Dead Than in the 
“There Ain’t No Sanity Clause”: 
instead of the traditional lump of swallowed pride. Uh…yeah, good luck with that.
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to the rise of unhealthy societal extremes such as Nazi
“Belfast” (2021) Starring Jamie Dornan, Jude Hill, Caitriona Balfe, Judi Dench, Ciarán Hinds. Written and directed by Kenneth Branagh. It is inescapable to view Kenneth Branagh’s “Belfast” without recognizing that this current King of Unnecessary Remakes is attempting his Irish version of John Boorman’s remarkable “Hope and Glory”, merely substituting The Troubles for The Blitz. The film stars Jude Hill as Buddy, the nine-year-old youngest son of an Ulster Protestant family and he has the kind of freckled toothy face that the camera adores and director Branagh never lets you forget that for a single moment. If Boorman cleverly used the protective fantasy of adventurism buoyed by childhood innocence as a clever allegory for the irrational but miraculous resilience of Londoners through years of Nazi bombings, Branagh is content to limit his characters to expulsions of treacle embracing the most sentimental movie-fed cliches, bizarrely mixed with a fascination for trashy popular culture. 
than are useful, and the end results hardly seems worth the effort.
“THE FORMULA” (1980)
release thriller so laden in an unimaginatively arrogant manner with the baggage of numbing predictability (and that’s saying a lot), its’s likely an example hidden away through the mercy of a process of selective memory witness protection.
of faux glamor and accompanying faux high moral and artistic purposes while transposing the human experience into a ceaseless assembly line of overheated (though sexually dishonest) melodrama and formulaic genre films which elevate mise-en-scene over substance. In that regard, at least Andrew V. McLaglen displays a steadier than usual assurance with dramatic rhythms and and an uncharacteristically sensitive attention to verisimilitude, until ultimately derailed by the slackness of scripting and one particularly glaring example of performance overindulgence.
In the 1974 film “Chinatown”, a gleefully corrupt Noah Cross sagely observes: “Politicians, ugly buildings and whores all get respectable with age”. Add bad movies to that short list and he might have had something there.
“Batman, The” (2022) Overlong, needlessly murky (both visually and narratively) and prone to a pretension that its concession to the most predictable standards of the genre fails to merit, “The Batman” is the umpteenth origin story of the Caped crusader; only one which dishonestly shrugs off such a tired distinction. Even the most cheaply rendered or campily redressed versions of Batman (i.e., the two 1940’s Columbia serials and the psychedelically pop-art television and its motion picture offshoot) sensibly dispensed with the arduous task of explaining and excusing the nature of the comics’ most acclaimed self-appointed vigilante (more famously mislabeled as “the world’s greatest detective”). However, with ” The Batman”, the issue of capable crime fighting has even less to do than usual with a call to civic duty than with justifying obsessive interference in police investigations due to daddy issues; the unraveling of which make less sense than ever, but are meant to be taken with far more gravitas due to the fact that entire enterprise is presented in unrelenting semi-darkness. (Seriously, can no one in Gotham City afford a light bulb?)
sourced franchise when the original is barely old enough for the ink on the original’s opening weekend numbers to dry.
“The Legend of the Lone Ranger ” (1981) Starring Klinton Spilsbury, Michael Horse, Juanin Clay, Jason Robards, Matt Clark, Christopher Lloyd. Directed by William A. Fraker. Written by Ivan Goff, Ben Roberts, Wiliam Roberts, Michael Kane & Jerry Derioshon. If one is prominently asserting the status of a legend it’s probably a good idea to attempt even a minimal stab at the mythic in your presentation. For a negative case in point there is William A. Fraker’s dreary “The Legend of the Lone Ranger”, a film that seems to have been assembled by people who have no familiarity with the western genre yet embrace every tired cliche with the bravura of an elementary school pageant. The villainous and despicable Butch Cavendish Gang (are there ever any gregarious gangs in westerns?) is out to snatch Texas away from the United States to make it a sovereign country by kidnapping President Ulysses S. Grant (a conspiracy which seems misplaced and more suitable for attention by James West and Artemus Gordon) , none of which has a great deal to do with John Reid and the story behind his adoption of the identity of the eponymous frontier masked man. After a severely overextended and awkwardly delineated portion of the film recording the circumstances in which the child Reid becomes fraternal childhood blood brothers with Tonto, the movie introduces the adult Reid in the person of a stiff-limbed toothy mannequin named Klinton Spilsbury, all while despairingly continuing in equal measure the production’s paralyzing quantity of stilted dialogue, awkward performances, sporadically fuzzy cinematography and a puerile feature-length ballad which rhymingly mocks the slightest attempt at gravitas.
Bats: 
Quiz (brought to you, as always, by those wonderful folks who bring you 
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“TENET” (2020)
any comprehensive enjoyment without the aid of successive viewings and if what pass for contemporary critics enjoy anything more than the pretense that they’re infinitely smarter than their audience, it has yet to be uncovered.
Bond imitations (both serious and satiric) in the mid 1960’s. Mired in a dispiriting rotation of antiquated genre tropes which when primarily realized by increasingly soulless CGI merely enhances the distancing of empty kinetic action from any synergistic relationship with the human experience. “Tenet” asserts what, by now, seems a signatory narrative arrogance on the part of 
production team’s passport stamps. “Tenet” becomes so weighed down by this overextended and unenlightening expositional sleigh-of-hand that the ensuing action set pieces are elevated in the viewer’s mind simply by the sheer relief of release from the relentless expositional purgatory. Still, though several of the energetic action sequences (a car chase, a violent encounter at an airport) are relatively well-staged, 
explanatory monologues which foolishly lay bare his disastrous narrative house of cards. 
Barred: 
traditional form of parental anti-bonding in mind (though useful in preparing the little cretins for future and most probable incarceration), we present this month’s edition of America’s most feared perpetrator of cynicism and social disobedience by way of pointing out silly people, the Classic Film Images Photo Quiz, brought to you, as always, by those pioneers of supply chain delays in fortifying the Free World with 
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Eye of the Needle: 
ado to begin with), we welcome you to this month’s edition of America’s favorite internet offense, the Classic Film Images Photo Quiz, brought to you, as always, by those fine distributors of 
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“Comanche Territory” (1950)
guaranteed inviolate through a treaty with the U.S. government. 
When Your Fingers Did the Walking:
used for purposes other than taking self-portraits or filing every detail of your personal financial information for the purpose of feigning alarm when it is appropriated by a New Jersey basement dwelling prepubescent hacker with a sweet tooth for online subscriptions to German fetish sites. The following twenty- five images represent a fraction of the cinema’s depictions of the classical use of Alexander Graham Bell’s gizmo for moderately priced chitchat without the need for two tin cans and a long string. Your task is to identify the films from which all twenty-five images are sourced and tell us of your suspicions. The first to correctly identify all of the images will receive the treasured CSR Culture Shock Award, the first recorded honorarium useful as both a source of bragging rights and a topical dandruff medication. Good luck.
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Slippery Slopes: 
we present a far less oppressive mode of sliding downhill without the intrusion of a waxworks gallery of grotesque Congressional Constitutional interventionists: the ancient art of skiing. The following twenty five images represent a mere fraction of the act of skiing as depicted in the movies. Your task is to correctly identify all twenty five films from which the pictures are sourced and to report the results to the local chapter of CSR. Really, unless you work for the Executive Branch, it isn’t very complicated. The first to correctly identify all twenty five images will receive their very own CSR Culture Shock Award, an item so coveted a certain New York Congresswoman assumes it wants to sleep with her. Good luck.
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Whiskers: 
cinematic acknowledgement of those furry balls (a.k.a. the second favorite house pet of those who chew gum) characterized by their unpredictable, antagonistic personalities and disturbing willingness to consume their owners within minutes of expiring: the feline. The following twenty-five images represent just a fraction of 
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Have I Got A Girl For You: 
making of 
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Smoke Gets In Your Eyes
chapter of America’s favorite continuing mind-bending soap opera, the Classic Film Images Photo Quiz, brought to you, as always, by those fine capitalists who nourish the world with 
decorative and, more often than not, intended to insert excitement into a narrative so lazily conceived that it screams for cheap visceral excitement. To celebrate this happy Hollywood tradition, we present the following twenty five images which graphically depict the danger of allowing a film director within spitting distance of a can of turpentine. Your task is to correctly identify all twenty five films and report the results of your shining exercise in acumen to our diligent staffers who will immediately rush to lunch and leave the computation of reader results to an unconscionably extended period guaranteeing the gnashing of teeth and development of peptic ulcers in all participants, The first to eventually identify all twenty five films correctly will receive the environmentally destructive (we spare no expense in accelerating the inevitable return of the Kingdom of the Cockroaches) CSR Culture Shock Award, the ownership of which will bring immediate expulsion from the attendance of any of the seven hundred and thirty two Hollywood award ceremonies scheduled for fiscal year 2022. (You can thank us later.) Good luck.
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PEDALERS: 
cash as possible (it’s a science thing that we anti-ozone taxpayers wouldn’t understand because we’re not empowered female Nobel laureates like AOC or Jerry Nadler), we present this month’s edition of America’s most bawdy game of intellectual flummery, the Classic Film Images Photo Quiz, brought to you, always, by the makers of America’s favorite breakfast candy, 
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Images Photo Quiz, brought to you- as always -by those fine folks who provide a nutritionally impoverished world with 
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interests of a local real estate developer whose role it is to be allowed to be recklessly and unexplainably petty while unrealistically interfering with the discovery until it’s rather domesticated nature is so provoked as to create civil disobedience of the type expected of and sadly typical of the climax of a creatively impoverished monster picture. This is Freddie Francis‘ “Trog”.
They Shoot Bad Movies Don’t They?
reopening cinemas (at escalated prices), those faux rumpus room multiplexes which have already sucked the life out of the civilized theatrical experience. Which brings us to this month’s edition of America’s most annoyed monthly reminder that a cinema mind is a terrible thing to waste: the Classic Film Images Photo Quiz, brought to you, as always, by those stubbornly patriotic distributors of 
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…On
excursion into the stars, propelled by engines emitting enough noxious exhaust in seconds to equal the states of Pennsylvania, New Jersey and Ohio and downtown India combined during a ten year period. With this in mind, it is an entirely appropriate moment to squeeze in the monthly sucker punch which introduces the monthly edition of America’s most reliably irritating (if not highly anticipated) scheduled indictment of the failure of national teacher’s unions, the Classic Film Images Photo Quiz, brought to you, as always, by that interstate cartel which satisfies our hunger for 
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material while maintaining an impressive technical proficiency in what appears to be a difficult and uncomfortable location shoot.
of World War 2 has the disadvantage of not only following dozens of characters over dozens of different locations, but also the input of three different credited directors working to patch a cohesive picture of just what did go on during the massive invasion of Normandy on that “longest day” (as referred to in a quote by German Field Marshal Irwin Rommel) on June 6, 1944. Add to that, the fact that, unique in a big-budget studio epic, disregarding the expectations of the audience, the story is presented entirely in correct linguistic terms: the French and Germans speak in their native tongues with the assistance of subtitles. By all rights, this should be a colossal boondoggle, a confused and incoherent film not unlike 
Memorium:
as Trump/Putin marionettes by the current touring ensemble of The Karl Marx Follies currently- and ironically -at play at 1600 Pennsylvania) this month’s edition of America’s cerebral answer to post-nasal drip, the Classic Film Images Photo Quiz, brought to you, as always, by those wonderful folk who bring you 
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HORSE SENSE: 
a comforting surrender to the fact that those post-apocalyptic movie scenarios 
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“The Stone Killer” (1973)
film mean to waste no time in getting down to dirty (Harry) business.
“Public Affairs” (1983)
to reconcile their willingness to present Stern’s anti-smut message as a positive ideal subject to corrupt betrayal- a message dramatized as embraced with popular support -while taking great pains to enjoy the exposure of the phony moralist (and thus, ridicule his message) creates an insoluble dichotomy from which the film never retrieves its bearings. If the script presented its characters’ motivations with a more serious deliberation, the corruption of self-interest in the face of public interest (it was a powerful subtext of 
Isn’t Running a Sign You’re Up to No-Good?:
comprising invaluable editorial assistance for the CSR home team are working their overtime magic to ensure that no holiday, observed or otherwise will compromise this month’s expected laxity of post scheduling. In the meantime, since we mentioned the Boston Marathon and are desperate to find a theme unconnected to the Muppet currently occupying a certain bleached D.C. residence (talk about yet another federal property which might usefully imprison its tenant with the same razor wire separating good citizens from the Feral Jackals on the Hill), we will proceed with a tenuous thematic attribution in this month’s edition of America’s favorite cerebral mind-melt, the Classic Film Images Photo Quiz, brought to you, as always, by those pioneer spirits who bravely distribute America’s favorite breakfast candy, 
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All Creatures Great and Small: 
of entitlement lording over the homunculi forming the rest of an ignorant and undeserving society. With this in mind, we bring you the latest installment in what we’re afraid is that continuous series of monthly irritations popularly known as the Classic Film Images Photo Quiz, brought to you with admirable stubbornness by those happy folk who peddle 
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“Jade” (1995)
trails. (The exception of the eternally baffling Howard Hawks production of “The Big Sleep” whose exclusion to the rule has more to do with the entertaining distractions of Hollywood star power and breezy stylishness, along with a critical Get Out of Jail Free card for virtually any film from a filmmaker included in the Auteurist Pantheon.) 
“TRADER HORN” (1973)
h one might be careful as for what one wishes. If this version summons less a sensation of nostalgia than one of contrived revisitation, it is most assuredly due to the bulk of this “new” version being cobbled together with such an alarming quantity of previously used stock footage from those aforementioned films (among others), that it may be a legitimate cause for a thorough Treasury audit into the 
“The Addams Family” (2019)
Family”, while returning to the original design of the characters specific to the printed cartoons (impossible to duplicate with exactitude in live action), immerses Addams’ characters in a world of color, with the artist’s macabrely expressive ink washes replaced with a palette that is often distractingly ugly at best, but too often simply murky. If that were the only problem. 
Noir!