0011 — EVERY FILM I WATCHED LAST WEEK
Wojna światów - następne stulecie (The War of the Worlds: Next Century) (1981)
Directed by Piotr Szulkin
⭐⭐⭐⭐
My next Szulkin incursion did not disappoint. The War of the Worlds: Next Century is less an adaptation of H.G. Wells than a loose appropriation of its premise. Yes, Martians have landed on Earth, but these silver-skinned dwarves in puffy jackets ride no tripods and vaporize no cities.
Instead, these Martians arrive not exactly as conquerors, but as imposing guests of honor, quietly harvesting humanity’s blood through a “voluntary” decree, promulgated with the complicit endorsement of the local government, while the rest of the public apparatus enthusiastically celebrates their presence through completely corrupted media.
Domination no longer arrives in tanks; it arrives over the airwaves, promising friendship (a word emphasized over and over again) while broadcasting the whole thing live (or at least a version of it) as the population is branded like cattle.
The plot follows television personality Iron Idem who, after privately questioning his role as the host of the ironically named Independent News (though the show is already revealed to be a farce by the ridiculous wig he wears on air), sees his life unravel as he finds himself navigating the labyrinthine belly of a city where every corridor, building, and television studio seems to feed the same monstrous regime.
Made in Poland on the eve of martial law (Martian law here, get it?), the film is often read as a satire of totalitarianism, but its vision feels broader and more prescient than that. In his second installment of the Apocalypse Tetralogy, Szulkin ultimately asks what happens when an authoritarian regime lands in the middle of another authoritarian regime and the means of domination aren’t purely militaristic but primarily mediatic. Because in this world, the media doesn’t simply distort reality—it replaces it. Pornography flickers on daytime television in restaurants; entertainment supplants political discourse; even death becomes a spectacle that can be manufactured on live television.
Iron Idem’s final speech is devastatingly contemporary, and perhaps the film’s clearest statement. A totalitarian regime must erase its opponents, and not necessarily through physical death, which is almost secondary and irrelevant in a world where screens are more believable than lived experience. What truly matters is extinguishing the memory and the idea of dissent.
Of course, the real tragedy is coming to terms with the fact that this fable is just as relevant today as it was back then, and that it’ll probably be ignored just like Iron Idem’s speech.
Where: MUBI
Le foto di Gioia (Delirium: Photo of Gioia) (1987)
Directed by Lamberto Bava
⭐⭐⭐
It wasn’t until watching Delirium that the relationship between melodrama and giallo finally clicked for me (I know, duh!). Strip away the black gloves, razor blades, and lurid murders, and what remains is a soap opera driven by jealousy, lust, family secrets, impossible passions, etc.
Structurally, Lamberto Bava isn’t reinventing anything here. The movie plays most of the expected hits of your average (decent) giallo while inviting the audience to constantly reshuffle their suspicions and place bets on who’s behind the killings (all of my early predictions failed, if you must know).
The story follows Gioia, a former model and editor-in-chief of the men’s magazine Pussycat, whose decadent world, inhabited by photographers, models, jealous suitors, and business rivals, begins to unravel when a series of murders—each meticulously documented by the killer in increasingly disturbing photographs—starts closing in around her.
What puts Delirium in a different lane is its imagery. Without really spoiling anything (there’s never room for supernatural explanations), the killer suffers from hallucinations that transform the victims into grotesque creatures, turning otherwise ordinary murder scenes (if there’s such a thing) into surreal flashes of body horror. It’s a surprisingly inventive visual device that gives the film an identity beyond many of its peers, despite the script’s weaker bits.
It’s also one of the more exploitative entries in the genre. I can’t think of another giallo I’ve seen with quite this much nudity and sex, which I guess makes sense considering the story unfolds within the glossy, trashy ecosystem of a men’s magazine, where excess, voyeurism, and sensationalism are practically the house style.
On a different note, this was my first Eternal Family watch. Terrific service. Highly recommend.
Where: Eternal Family.
Peaaegu uskumatu lugu (An Almost Unbelievable Story) (1962)
Directed by Elbert Tuganov
⭐⭐⭐
Quick, funny and poignant animation about capitalism’s worst instincts and their consequences. The character design is a blast, and the attention to detail is just as fun.
Note: Is this how Ikea is made?
Where: Eternal Family
種鬼 (Seeding of a Ghost) (1983)
Directed by Yang Chuan
⭐⭐⭐⭐
Ever since The Boxer’s Omen, I had purposely tried to stay away from Cat III* movies. And not because of any moral impediment (fuck no!), but mostly because I’m terribly squeamish when it comes to very specific imagery that churns my stomach with embarrassing ease. You see, the sight of maggots, viscera, pus, and that sorta stuff, puts me in a very specific mood. Not a good one. And yes, there’s your healthy dose of gooey, disgusting imagery that made me look away more than once (if maggots swimming in what looks like milk and a dark pink liquid don’t bother you, I don’t know what’s wrong with you).
What I truly loved about the movie, however, wasn’t the horror as much as the crime element. For nearly half its runtime, this plays like a revenge thriller in an almost melodramatic and sometimes comedic tone.
In a more conventional Western story, the avenging husband would probably occupy the moral high ground. What’s fascinating here is that he doesn’t. His thirst for revenge slowly corrodes him, and what begins as righteous retribution gradually turns into a path of self-destruction. In a way, it feels like Death Wish meets John Carpenter’s The Thing. Plus, a guy gets his ass fucked by a demon with a giant match. You know, your average drama.
Anyway, despite all the sex, gore, and various aesthetic unpleasantries, these films often function as deeply moral fables. What also fascinated me was how much of the lore draws from traditional Chinese beliefs while being transplanted into a contemporary setting.
That combination gives the film a strange sense of timelessness, as though ancient curses and modern cities have always belonged together.
Most likely the gem of the week.
Where: Eternal Family
*Cat III or Category III is Hong Kong's adults-only film rating, often associated with movies that push sex, violence, gore, and exploitation to delirious extremes.
Written on the Wind (1956)
Directed by Douglas Sirk
⭐⭐⭐⭐
Speaking of melodramas... It’s been a long while since I last watched a Douglas Sirk film (the last one was probably Imitation of Life, some fifteen years ago).
What brought me back to him, however, was my recent run through the work of contemporary master of melodrama François Ozon (Quand vient l’automne (2024), Été 85 (2020), Une nouvelle amie (2014)).
This movie looks absolutely gorgeous. But beneath all that immaculate Technicolor lies a story about what happens when wealth and comfort prove incapable of replacing purpose or genuine love. Yeah, I know—idyllic, but whatever. This IS a melodrama, after all.
Rock Hudson is excellent—not only as the quintessential matinee idol, but as Mitch, a man forced to hide the true nature of his desires, a role that sadly feels especially poignant knowing what we know today about Hudson’s own life. Lauren Bacall and Robert Stack are equally good. But the real MVP is Dorothy Malone’s portrayal of Marylee, the ultimate pampered, capricious and destructive princess, condemned to a suite in an ivory tower overlooking an utterly lonely kingdom of oil rigs.
The Technicolor is, as expected, stunning, with every frame looking like a meticulously arranged painting. I guess these are morality fables too—only instead of monsters and ghosts, they’re populated by immaculate mansions that never quite feel like homes, gorgeous landscapes, cocktail glasses, and impossible ideals of unrequited love.
Where: Criterion Channel
Magnificent Obsession (1954)
Directed by Douglas Sirk
⭐⭐⭐1/2
The premise of this movie is gloriously bizarre.
Reckless human bad-luck charm Bob Merrick (Rock Hudson) sets off a chain of events that turns Helen (Jane Wyman)’s life into absolute hell. And I don’t mean in a comedy-of-errors kind of way. Through a level of carelessness that borders on Looney Tunes, Bob is first partially responsible for her husband’s death and then utterly, completely responsible for her losing her sight (to be fair, he was only harassing her and not actively trying to blind her).
Anyway, the consequences of his actions lead him to discover a sort of spiritual philosophy (a “magnificent obsession,” you might say) championed by Helen’s late husband: do good for others, expect nothing in return, and never tell anyone about it. All presented in such a secretive way that you start to wonder whether it’s an actual a cult. Think of it as a proto-Pay It Forward (2000), except in a world where going blind is apparently just another Tuesday and even the walls look perfectly edible.
In what feels like a jump of somewhere between ten and forty-five years, Bob somehow becomes a celebrated brain surgeon, saves countless lives, and manages to atone for having been such a fucking klutz earlier in life.
There are plenty of twists and turns along the way, and an excellent tomboy character named Judy that sprinkles the movie with plenty of additional charm. And though it came close at times, I’m just glad no one breaks into song—that would’ve been the breaking point for me.
Where: MUBI
The Long Walk (2025)
Directed by Francis Lawrence
⭐⭐
Ooof. After hearing for months how intense and devastating this movie was, it ended up being a pretty massive letdown.
I understand what it’s trying to say. The problem is that it never moves beyond the obvious. There’s a difference between having something to say and saying it in an interesting way, and The Long Walk rarely manages the latter (and no, showing people shitting or getting shot in the face doesn’t qualify as interesting). Everything is reduced to unrealistic mopey moral absolutes, with little room for ambiguity or contradiction.
It also operates, both narratively and visually, within the language of contemporary prestige video games, giving it a synthetic look that repeatedly pulled me out of the experience.
Just a long yawn.
Hello Ladies: The Movie (2014)
Directed by Stephen Merchant
⭐⭐1/2
I crammed this in right after finishing the original series, mostly playing in the background while I worked. There’s nothing particularly interesting here beyond Stephen Merchant’s trademark compassionate writing about social outcasts desperately trying to carve out a place for themselves in a world that rarely makes room for them. In this occasion, LA.
Merchant’s character, however, is deeply unsettling if you stop to think about him for more than a minute. He’s not just socially awkward—he’s a profoundly disturbed man. That becomes especially strange considering he’s in his mid-thirties and appears to be reasonably successful in his profession. There’s a bizarre dissonance there that never quite clicks the way it does in Merchant’s other projects.
Cringey by design, but ultimately forgettable.
Where: HBO Max.