Control Nathan Rabin 4.0
a column where I give patrons a chance to choose a movie for me to see and write about for a one time one hundred dollar pledge
One of you kind sadists paid me one hundred dollars to write about 1933’s Gabriel Over the White House, a look at the oft-overlooked positive side of Fascism and dictatorships.
One of you generous sadists paid me to watch a seminal 1972 Rapture exploitation movie that (SPOILER) failed to make me a believer.
One of y’all kind sadists paid me one hundred dollars to see and talk about a 1989 Hungarian-American Felix the Cat movie that, honestly, is pretty fucked up.
One of you kind souls paid me to watch and write about ALL of Sam Peckinpah’s movies, including 1965’s Major Dundee, a sort of dry run for The Wild Bunch starring Charlton Heston as an obsessed soldier out for redemption and vengeance.
Many, many years after the release of SLC Punk!, a Matthew Lillard-free sequel was released to deafening silence that one of you kind souls paid me one hundred dollars to suffer through.
Neil Young’s self-financed surrealistic pop art apocalyptic Devo musical, co-directed by Dean Stockwell and filmed over a period of years, is weird. Exquisitely so.
Sam Peckinpah’s career as a Western auteur kicked into his gear with his brilliant second film, the achingly sad, beautiful 1962 western Ride the High Country, which gave long in the tooth cowpokes Randolph Scott and Joel McCrea obscenely juicy roles to play.
One of you kind souls paid me seventy five dollars to re-experience Dick Tracy, the cinematic sensation of 1990 and a delightful exercise in escapism that holds up pretty damn well.
One of you kind souls paid for me to watch and write about this enjoyably ridiculous, wonderfully stupid movie for a friend. The word “hero” gets thrown around too much, but that man is a true hero.