White Dog (Spine #455)

"I want you to shoot him now before he kills more blacks!" -Julie Sawyer

All it took was a random viewing of the trailer for Samuel Fuller's "White Dog" to know that I had to see it immediately. I mean, an early 80's film starring Kristy McNichol that's about a seemingly racist dog sounds like a recipe for success to me. I was more than ecstatic to discover that it had been released by Criterion, thereby giving me even more incentive to see it and boy, was it a treat.

McNichol stars as Julie Sawyer, an up and coming actress that accidentally hits our titular character, a white German shepherd, with her car. After a visit to the vet, Julie takes in the dog as her own, much to her "totally happening" boyfriend's chagrin. One night, an intruder breaks in and almost rapes Julie, but White Dog saves the day by brutally attacking the intruder. This leads Julie to believe that he is the greatest dog ever and that he couldn't be more perfect for her. Not to long after this incident, though, White Dog sneaks out late at night and makes his way into the city where he attacks a black trashman, causes his death, and then quietly makes his way back home. Julie, unaware of the dog's recent attack, brings him to work with her and he viciously attacks a black actress. This startles Julie and leads her to believe something is seriously wrong with the dog. Upon bringing him to a trainer, she learns that he is a "White Dog", or a dog that has been trained to not only hate, but attack, dark skinned people. The owner suggests that she kill the dog right away, insisting that their can be no rehabbing this hate that his been imparted to the dog. Keyes (Paul Winfeld),  the head trainer, he himself a black man, takes it upon himself to try and cure the dog of its nature, believing if it can be learned, it can also be unlearned. This begins a constant and at times very tense back and forth between Keyes and the dog, as Keyes is adamant to not give up on the dog even in the face of failure. The ending is quite shocking and affecting, but not in the direct way that you think it might be.

As you can imagine, the film itself had its fair share of hardships right out of the gate. Based on a 1970 novel of the same name, the film takes a very head-on look at racism and its nature, whether its learned or inherited and what can be done about it through confrontation or indifference. Directed by Sam Fuller in 1982, the film faced constant threats of boycotts and protests surrounding its release with many groups feeling the film would inspire violence rather than address it. Paramount backed down and shelved the movie indefinitely, never seeing an official release. It was then edited for a direct to TV release, but NBC backed down and never aired it. It wouldn't be until 2008 that Criterion would come along and release the film in its uncut form.

The film itself is a bit tough to take. First off, the dog is horrifying. I am not sure what they were doing to this dog to make it so angry, but holy jeebus its scary. The attacks are all quite vicious, although some escalate into an almost unintentional hilarity, which negatively detaches the film from the very serious message that it is trying to convey.  It is also, sadly, a byproduct of its time with it's glaring Eighties-ness, specifically found within McNichol. There are, however, moments where the movie truly shines and you get the overall feel of what Fuller was attempting to get across.

"White Dog" is by no means a bad film, and I applaud it for going after a subject that still to this day needs to be addressed and for doing so in a creative way. It is, however, not without it's shortcomings.I recommend giving it a chance with an open mind. Enjoy a laugh or two here and there, try and take in the overall message and do what you can to come away unscarred by the ending.

CHE (Spine #496)

"To survive here, to win... you have to live as if you've already died." - Ernesto "Che" Guevara

One would be hard pressed to name a more recognizable image than that of Cuban revolutionary Ernesto "Che" Guevara. The sad irony of that is the severe lack of knowledge of who Che was to go along with that recognition. With his film, "CHE", director Stephen Soderbergh, set about the task of meticulously sharing the story of a man that is equally celebrated as much as reviled. Drawing from numerous historical sources, as well as author Jon Lee Anderson's biography "Che Guevara: A Revolutionary Life" and some of Guevara's own diaries, Soderbergh had built an enormous amount of material to cover; much more than a regular movie time would allow. What was originally financed as one English speaking film grew into a story spanning four and a half hours and split into two parts, now almost entirely spoken in Spanish. The two halves, "Part One: The Argentine" and "Part Two: The Guerrilla", both tell different era's of Che's life, but not only work in conveying a true sense of this man's slow rise and drastic fall, but watched in one sitting it ignores modern convention of how film should tell a story, all the while containing an incredible and demanding performance by Benicio Del Toro as Che himself.

"Part One: The Argentine" has a back and forth nature in time, jumping from Che's address of the UN in 1964 and his actual beginnings with the Cuban Revolution in 1955. With this back and forth the film creates an excellent dichotomy showing us a very strong, very well known Che seemingly as popular as anyone on Earth, whereas when the film jumps back we see Che's early beginnings; his slow rise within the revolution itself, even his own personal battles with asthma, which adds this dash of humanism to someone that we are seeing will become larger than life. An early scene shows the introduction of Che to Fidel Castro, in which Castro asks Che to join him and there's this subtle power in seeing two men discussing their dream, and living to see it fulfilled; to an extent, at least. By the time "The Argentine" concludes, we see Che's group, the July 26th Movement, succeeding in their takeover of Cuba. While feeling like a high note, Che is quick to remind his troops that they have simply "won a war. The Revolution has just begun." Nevertheless, at this point, Che has become almost mythic and most certainly legendary. The very final scene is jumps back to that first meeting with Castro and reveals what Che wants in return for his help.

"Part Two: The Guerrilla" has a much more stark and bleaker feel all around. Years after the successful taking of Cuba, Che now finds himself in Bolivia, hoping to bring their brand of revolution to South America. Whereas the taking of Cuba was slow and successful, Che would find merely less than a year in Bolivia, giving up his fame and name in hopes of spreading that which he believed in. Despite a warm welcome in lieu of him being a foreigner, Che could never get strong support from the locals of Bolivia, and this would be the beginning of his end. As his health becomes worse and worse, his men begin to dissent and eventually betray the man the pledged to follow. This leads to his discovery, capture, and eventual execution.

If anyone doubted the prowess of Benicio Del Toro before this film, upon seeing it they would no longer have a right to that doubt. Del Toro simply becomes this role, in such a seemingly effortless way. He exhibits an amazing understanding of a man that has dreams but also maintains a strict forcefulness with his troops and a lack of real celebration, always focusing on the task at hand. No matter what era you are witnessing, its almost uncanny how one can beleive they are watching the real Che onscreen.

"CHE" was also one of the first films to use the RED cameras, a new type of high definition filming, and there aren't many words to describe just how amazing both films look, in their own right. Soderbergh approached both parts with seperate, yet unified ideas in mind. "Part One" was filmed widescreen and with warm colors, in a way reflecting Che's success, but also coordinating with his writing style in his diary in regards to those times; very eloquent and well spoken. During the era "Part Two" happened, Che was very sporadic and uncoordinated with his writing, not knowing what would come next. Soderbergh filmed "Part Two" in a handheld style to help convey this uncertainty and leave the viewer anxious for what may come next for them.

Despite one's feeling on the subject matter dealt with in "CHE", one would be hard pressed to find much to dislike about the film(s) as a whole. Yes, there are big aspects of his life not covered, but with what is covered directly shows the biggest high and lowest low in the life of a man that lives on as far more than that. I urge anyone and everyone to view this as a whole and get a better, clearer understanding of "that guy on the T-shirt", which sadly is what he and his memory have become.