Keoma (1976)

Cast

• Franco Nero
• William Berger
• Olga Karlatos
• Orso Maria Guerrini
• Gabriella Giacobbe
• Antonio Marsina
• Joshua Sinclair
• Woody Strode

Inventory

• A banging door
• Two wagon loads of plague victims
• A smoke-filled saloon, noticeably devoid of smokers
• A banjo with three strings
• Pissing on a man's boot
• A hair-raising experience
• A crucifixion
• Birth and death
• Four bullets

Summary

We begin in a battle-blasted town, in which one grizzled crone is picking through the debris. She hides when our hero rides into town, but confronts him when she recognizes him. From the bitter, bile-laden conversation it is apparent that the two know each other from way back. How far back becomes clear when he looks around at the chaos and says, "I thought you could change destiny."

In a surprisingly nice cut, she turns and the camera follows her gaze to an Indian encampment, where the bodies are piled high and the tee-pees are all aflame. "I changed destiny when I decided that you alone would survive that useless massacre." A little boy is seen running though the encampment, shouting, "Mommy! Mommy!" We see an attractive young Indian woman lying dead on the ground, just as a gentlemen wearing fancy duds rides into the camp and looks around, apparently in dismay. The camera then pans back to the crone, in the battered town.

We meet the evil henchmen as they haul a load of plague victims off to a mine. As the wagon pauses for some unnecessary conversation between the henchmen, one of the plagued turns to a beautiful woman and tells her not to touch him, so that she doesn't catch the disease and pass it on to their unborn child. He then tries to provide her an opportunity to escape by taking off himself, which leads to everyone else in the cart breaking for the hills as well, except for the woman. Of course, all are shot dead in their tracks. One of the henchmen decides that it's too much trouble to bring one victim to the mine and is about to put a bullet in her when he suddenly discovers a knife sticking out of his arm, thrown by Keoma from a hilltop a good fifty yards away. After trading a load of buckshot for a henchman's horse, he takes the woman to the local town.

Here we discover that everything went bad when the henchmen arrived, along with someone named Caldwell, who bought the mine and whatever parts of the town that he wanted. Strangely, the plague broke out at about that time. About this time, Keoma sees a banjo-picking black man, played by the always wonderful Woody Strode, who we quickly learn was George, a mentor to the young Keoma, although now that he has been emancipated, he's moved on from being noble and talented to being a drunk.

We briefly meet Caldwell, but before we can get anything out of him, a series a random flashbacks, mixed with present=day conversation, cues us in on the fact that the dude who showed up at the Indian camp was the father of the young Keamo. We also learn that three of Caldwell's men are Keoma's half-brothers and that their mutual father was the fastest gun in the West

While Keoma is having a pleasant chat with his father, the henchmen show up at the saloon and drag off the pregnant woman. As Keoma goes to rescue her from the mine, he meets the crone (who has been wandering around for the whole movie, dragging a cart) and she tells him that it's no use; he cannot save her.

As crones go, she's not particularly prescient, as Keoma does rescue the woman and, at the same time, confronts his half-brothers. Between this scene and the flashbacks, it's pretty clear that holiday dinners in this family are filled with awkward moments. After Keamo publicly thrashes his brothers, Caldwell berates them and says that he'll do things his way, which means taking his whole band of henchmen into town to roust the place looking for Keoma and the pregnant woman.

After the town doctor and George bring back medicine to save the townspeople, Caldwell gathers his gang to take care of the problem once and for all. At this point, it's worth observing that despite the fairly consistent attrition, his gang manages to grow larger every time they ride into town. Clearly, the man has Hedley Lamarr doing his recruiting for him.

The result is a tremendous shootout that includes some genuinely excellent stunt work, particularly on horseback. It also features Woody Strode with a bow, which, if you have to ask, you ain't never gonna know.

Since the three brothers fell out with Caldwell, they're counting on him and Keoma killing each other, so that they can step in as strongmen. When Keoma foils their scheme by surviving, the inevitable ending involves the four brothers working out a lot of pent-up aggression. Again, I'll note that crone really gets around.

Amazingly, a sequel, Keoma Rises, has been made and is scheduled for release in 2017. Franco Nero will once more play Keoma and  Enzo Castellari will direct again. Presumably, they have found another crone.

The actor who plays the youngest brother, Joshua Sinclair, is a medical doctor, specializing in rare tropical diseases. He's worked in India and Africa. He also has two Ph.Ds in Theology and has received commendations from the United Nations for his work against Apartheid. To provide an income, he's also been a highly successful author, actor, and director. In his spare time, he's a professor of Filmmaking and Biblical Anthropology at the London School of Economics and New York University. Go figure.

Dialogue

"He can't die. And you why? Because he's free and a man who is free never dies."

Story

Okay, the plot is pretty much the same one that has been used for half the westerns between Randolph Scott and Silverado. I'm pretty sure that it can be traced back a couple of millennia further, as well. So what? It's the execution that counts and this movie manages to throw in enough plot to fill a whole season of most television programs. It even manages to include a bit of supernatural creepiness with the crone.

Frankly, I was a bit surprised at how well the whole thing held together. The only thing holding it back from the legendary sixth bulls-eye is a certain lack of tension. Once the plot gets moving, there's a certain inevitability about it.

Music

Imagine Kate Bush channeling Grace Slick. Now imagine her singing lyrics that basically are an outline of the plot (just in case you weren't following along). She sings the opening theme and the first half of the movie. In the second half, she's joined by Tommy Chong, also reading from a summary of the script, except in a different key and about three-quarters of a note flat. He alternates solos and duets with her until she handles the closing credits on her own.

I've heard some really, really bad music in these movies, but this is truly spectacular.

Acting

With the exception of Franco Nero, the acting is actually pretty good. Most of the leads appear to speak English and to have delivered their own lines. In Nero's case, that was probably a mistake. He doesn't sound remotely like his father or brothers. In fact, he doesn't sound like anyone else in the movie.

Although it doesn't actually qualify as acting, it is necessary to point out that Keoma is the hairiest Native American since the first men walked across the Bering Straits. Serious, this dude makes Grizzly Adams look like he'd been bikini waxed.

More Movie Remakes: A – M

So, long ago, I wrote a post on movies that didn't need to be remade. The inspiration was a remake of Conan the Barbarian. At that time, I threatened a sequel, as there certainly were many more films that I hadn't addressed. Well, today I will follow up on that threat, in honor of the new Ghostbusters.

To be clear, I haven't seen the new Ghostbusters, and I have seen reviews that are generally favorable. That's beside the point. By remaking a movie, you're making the statement that the original was unsatisfactory and that if only someone more competent, such as yourself, was acting in it or directing it, it would be more perfect. The fact that the new version has a female cast is completely irrelevant. There are a lot of really funny women who can act.

In the case of Ghostbusters, the problem is that the original was as nearly perfect as possible. The casting included some of the great comic talent of the day and virtually everyone contributed some of their best work to what was an ensemble movie. The only person who clearly isn't thrilled to be there was Sigourney Weaver, who, from the stories that have escaped, was utterly frustrated by the fact that the rest of the cast freely ad-libbed new lines, played cheesy practical jokes, and generally behaved like a bunch of middle-school students with a substitute teacher. Personally, I believe that those stories are probably true, because you can see that the cast, minus Weaver, has developed that pitch-perfect timing that can only happen when funny people hang out together, being funny.

The biggest and most important character of all in the original movie was the city itself. New York City is one of the greatest character actors ever to grace the silver screen and New York in the early eighties was as good as it got. The mayor, the police and fire commissioners, the archbishop, Larry King, Casey Kasem; all of these were New York City. Who would you pick today to so epitomize the city? Donald Trump and Derek Jeter? What does New York look like now? It's safe, professional, clean, and successful. As a character, it's nothing but a walk-on.

Could a great movie have been made as a sequel? Possibly. Maybe even probably. Let the boys claim credit for turning New York into what it has become. Let them be successful and balding and sloppy, mourning Egon Spangler's passing. Make Walter Peck the Director of the EPA. Let Venkman see the opportunity to sell out one more time to a bunch of kids who grew up worshiping the Ghostbusters. After all, what could go wrong? Except somewhere, deep in a basement, one of Egon's last contraptions reboots and comes up to the password screen. Without him to type it in, a series of unfortunate events takes place and suddenly ghosts start popping up again. 

It might work, with good casting and a good director. But in any case, it would be better than remaking a brilliant original.

So what else has been remade, that didn't need it?

Annie — Not because the 1982 version was terrific, but because there was no way that any version was going to be any better. Making Annie and Warbucks black didn't change the characters, it just changed their skin color. A meaningful black version would be a very different story. It could be very good, but it would be as much like Annie as West Side Story is like Romeo and Juliet.

Arthur — I hated the original, but you're not going to beat Dudley Moore, Liza Minnelli, and John Geilgud. Oh yeah, and Burt Bacharch and Christopher Cross wrote the theme, which was played at every slow dance for a decade. The original brought in seven times as much, adjusted for inflation.

Assault on Precinct 13 — Uh, yeah. If only John Carpenter knew how to make a creepy action movie on the budget that most movies put aside for breakfast pastries. Oh, that's right. He did. Good acting, lots of close-ups, claustrophobia, and paranoia. And keep the plot really, really simple. Boy, it's a shame that the 2005 version couldn't remember any of those.

Bedazzled — Here we have Harold Ramis on the other side of the mistake. Once again, the problem is that the original is perfectly matched to its time and brilliantly cast. I have nothing against Brendan Fraser or Elizabeth Hurley. I love seeing Elizabeth Hurley. Two hours of Hurley walking around on a stage would be fine by me. But she is never going to be a better Devil than Peter Cook. And there are very, very few comedy teams to match Dudley Moore and Peter Cook.

Of course, the original had Rachel Welch playing Lust, and to be fair, I'd certainly be willing to put up with watching two hours of Rachel Welch pole-dancing.

If I had to.

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari — Your smartphone camera and a $1.99 app can take a photo of people lying on the ground at Fredericksburg, Virginia that has the same acid edges and excessive contrast of a Matthew Brady print. That doesn't make the two equal in value.

Dawn of the Dead/Day of the Dead — Go back to the comments for Assault on Precinct 13. Substitute "George Romero" for John Carpenter. I am reminded about a quote made about Willie Mosconi: "He could beat you with a broom that had a felt tip glued on the end and then he'd sweep the joint out afterwards." It's not the tools that make the craftsman. It's the craftsman who makes the tools.

Death Race — Okay, Death Race 2000 is not art. It's not even close to art. Paul Simon is better friends with Art Garfunkel than Death Race 2000 is with Cinematic Art. Still, once again you have a movie that perfect captures the time when it was made, with camp and political commentary, being remade into an special effects extravaganza that tries to combine The Fast and Furious with a Mad Max movie.

The Day the Earth Stood Still — Why? Keanu Reeves as Klaatu? For the love of god, why?

Fame — We didn't need the first one, so why would we need the second? I don't watch television, but from what Aphrodite and the Bug tell me, Glee worked quite well and had the advantage of being funny and poignant.

The Fantastic Four — As a rule, I don't like superhero movies. I find them formulaic and boring. I think the fact that they can be rebooted multiple times with more or less the same plot, but with different actors says a lot about them.

Flight of the Phoenix — What a waste of talent, including the wonderful Miranda Otto. Giovanni Ribisi is a great character actor, but convincing people that he knows how to design an aircraft? I wouldn't trust him to successful design an outhouse. In the original, you had Jimmy Stewart (who was a former bomber group commander), Richard Attenborough, Earnest Borgnine and Peter Finch. Looking at the bookshelves, I don't see any particular shortage of decent stories that could be made into good movies, especially given a quality cast and a big budget. Why remake a relatively obscure movie that most who have seen it would agree was a classic?

Fun With Dick and Jane — Fame meets the Flight of the Phoenix. Let's take a bomb of a movie that certainly didn't fail because of a lack of acting talent, replace those actors with a new set and make a bomb of a movie that certainly didn't fail because of a lack of acting talent.

Get Carter — Because when I ask myself the question: who is the next Michael Caine? Sylvester Stallone is the first name to pop into my head. 

Godzilla / King Kong — Eventually someone will do the perfect giant creature destroying Tokyo/New York movie. This will precipitate the End Times, as predicted by the Mayans.

Guess Who — Because a 2005 movie about a mixed-race couple is bound to be more risque than the same movie in 1967. Especially when the earlier one was saddled with Stanley Kramer as director and could only scrape up Sidney Portier, Spencer Tracy, and Katharine Hepburn to fill out the cast.

Halloween — What's the idea behind remaking horror movies? You know the plot. You know the twists. It's not like you can't simply write a new one. All you need is a gimmick.

A summer camp built on the site of an old logging camp (axe-wielding serial killer). A youth hostel built on the site of an old abattoir (meat hook-wielding serial killer). A hipster coffee shop built on the site of an old diner (spatula-wielding serial killer). Okay, maybe not that last one.

High Noon — [head thunk]

The Hitcher — If I were faced with the choice of Sean Bean or Rutger Hauer as a psychotic serial killer stalking me, I'm going with Bean, every time. The guy turns out to be a loser in every movie.

How the Grinch Stole Christmas — They're doing it yet again in 2018. The original had Boris Karloff narrate and Thurl Ravenscroft sing. If you need more than that, maybe Dr. Suess isn't for you.

The Italian Job — Because when I ask myself the question: who is the next Michael Caine? Mark Wahlberg is the first name to pop into my head.

The Longest Yard — I sincerely doubt that there is any movie ever made that could be improved by reshooting it with Adam Sadler replacing the leading man.

The Manchurian Candidate — A psychological cold-war thriller about McCarthyism should be redone as a crappy sci-fi movie. Also, I despise Meryl Streep.

The Mechanic — They did remake it. From all accounts, if you cared at all about the first movie, you hated it. If you never saw the first movie, you were apathetic. That's the kind of response that would keep me making movies.

Trochoidal Grooving Training with Sandvik Coromant

It is common medical training in parts of Europe to practice the debridement of diseased adenoidal tissue by scraping grooves in the trochoids of certain species of aquatic aves. These structures are vestigial in this genus of birds, serving as one of the last remaining features in common with their saurian predecessors, who would, during combat with mating rivals, open their jaws widely and rapidly pump bursts of blood into the tissue, which would simultaneously cause the trochoids to flare bright red and to slap together. This slapping, known as trochoidal ferientes, would resonate within the cavernous jaws to make a sound much like a Louisville Slugger being knocked against a dugout water cooler.^[1]

In Scandinavia, the most commonly used bird is the Sandvik Cormorant, Phalacrocorax lemmykilmister. which happens to be of about the same size as a human infant of the age when this type of surgery is most often done, as well as being hardy enough to survive the capture, surgery, and subsequent release. In the United Kingdom, the birds of choice are the Avocado Shag and the Harvest Gold Shag, of the same genus^[2], both of which are commonly (and mistakenly) considered to be Kitchen Albatrosses.^[3]

In other areas of Europe and in all parts of North America except for three counties in central Kansas the practice has been banned as unnecessarily cruel. Oddly, despite the fact that neither cormorants or shags are indigenous to Kansas, that state has converted an abortion clinic into a medical school where would-be otolaryngologists spend their internships waiting against the possibility of a sadly misguided seabird turning up.^{[citation needed]}

References

1. ^ Brown, David (08 October 2015). "Pirates player turns cagefighter against defenseless water cooler." CBS Sports
2. ^ "Taxon: Genus Phalacrocorax". Project: The Taxonomicon.
3. ^ Vider, Elise (24 January 1988). "Shades Of The '60s! Avocado And Harvest Gold Are Returning." Phily.com.

Wakipedia

So, an old friend sent an email the other day, saying that he had received an advertising message from his company's AutoCad distributor that had the subject: Trochoidal Grooving Training with Sandvik Coromant.

Said friend went on to report that he certainly didn't read the message, because it was more fun to contemplate what the content might be than it would be to know what it actually was. After an afternoon of thought, his best guess was that it is an offer for "a class for some new death metal dance craze utilizing a trochar and taught by some Scandinavian Euro-trash instructor wearing a dead sea bird on his head."

I considered that to be a perfectly fine explanation and would have been quite happy to complement him upon it, if he did not proceed to end his e-mail with a challenge to top him.

And that is where things started to go wrong.

As my family and friends will tell you, I have an over-developed competitive streak and so I proceeded to expend an hour or so of my life writing a suitable response. Upon completion, it occurred to me that it would make a darn fine entry in Wikipedia.

Rather than doom some lazy high school student by providing source material even more bogus than usual for a term paper, I've decided to add a category of posts to this blog, to be tagged "Wakipedia". They'll be inspired by the spam that slips into my inbox, the self-spoofing headlines that appear everywhere, and in the random comments that are heard in passing.