A Kino Listicle

Yo Dawg, I heard you like lists.

So, uhhh, hi! It’s a me, JD. I’ve been radio silent for some time. This is my fault, my grievous fault. But hey, I finally finished the short and turned it into The Editor and it was accepted for the anthology. So… sorry, not sorry. But yeah, hopefully we shall return to our regularly scheduled blogging now that I have finished yet another struggle cuddle with my words.

Moving on, as many of you know, my Big Damn Moomie Thread on the X was censored hard. And so, this is Revenge of the Moomie Thread. Son of Moomie Thread.

Bigger. Longer. Uncut.

Remember, you asked for this.

I present to you, The JD Sauvage Kino List. The Forty Best Moomies that live forever in my head. In chronological order:

1. Seven Samurai (1954)

Akira Kurosawa invents the multi-camera composite and tight telefocus shots and sets the tone for all future spaghetti westerns and inspires the Magnificent Seven all in one go. No, seriously, camera-work for cinema is divided into pre-Seven-Samurai and post-Seven-Samurai periods.

Set in the Sengoku Jidai, the warring states period, this black and white epic follows seven mercenary samurai hired by a village to fend off a gang of military deserters. A great killing covered in mud and blood ensues. Have katana, will travel.

Watch especially Toshiro Mifune's Kikuchiyo. A commoner mercenary of the ashigaru class who suffers the disdain of his betters and the toils of war with a light heart and a revel in slaughter.

2. The Alamo (1960)

Let me sing you the song of my people. Our national epic is the last shuddering gasp of pure nihilistic joy past lips foaming with much blood. The joy of taking them with us. Because fuck you, that's why.

Some would argue that it was militarily unnecessary. That San Jacinto would have been won without the sacrifice of men and matériel at the old mission in Bexar. That Bowie overstepped himself in going over Sam Houston's head to demand Governor Smith not only not remove the garrison, but reinforce it. Some people have dead souls.

Go ahead. Sound el deguello. We dare you. From hell's heart I stab at thee; for hate's sake I spit my last breath at thee.

3. El Cid (1961)

Rodrigo Diaz de Vivar was one of history’s great mercenary commanders. He sold his sword to whoever could afford it. Alternatively, he was a loyal retainer. But one betrayed by many faithless masters.

This version of the story is the romantic one. Staring a young Charlton Heston and the smoldering Sophia Loren. This is very pretty film in technicolor. For many reasons.

Filmed in Franco's Spain, this is one of the last glimpses of that Grand Old World destroyed in the calamity of the Twentieth Century War . Try and watch that final charge, tied into his saddle with dry eyes. And thus the Cid, road out of the gates of history, into legend.

4. Zulu (1964)

Because we're 'ere lad. Nobody else. Just us.

In the hundred years since the Victoria Cross was created for valor and extreme courage beyond that normally expected of a British soldier in face of the enemy. Only 1344 have been awarded. 11 of these were won by the defenders of the mission station at Rourke's Drift, Natal JAN22-23 1879.

B Co, 2nd Bn, 24th Regiment of Foot, the South Wales Borderers, stands off a determined attack pressed by Zulu forces numbering some 3 to 4 thousand over two days of fighting. These boys might all be named Jones, but by God they can sing! This is a Welsh Regiment mun!

5. My Fair Lady (1964)

Without any doubt in my mind, this is the best film musical ever made. One is a heartless guttersnipe, the other is insane! Is there any hope for these two? Will confirmed bachelor Enry Iggins ever let a woman into his life? Claws in you cat!

A loving examination of class, habits, customs, and the dangers of taking in strays. Watch out, you might grow accustomed to their faces. Audrey Hepburn and Rex Harrison burn the old house down. The best way to greet your woman is to ask her for your slippers. It is knowen.

6. Story of O (1975)

A loving cinematic adaption of Pauline Reage's erotic Histoire d'O. I actually took in the VHS before reading the novel. A benefit of working at a Blockbuster in High School.

If you ever wondered why that one blog, "Chateau Heartiste," was run by a lad going by "Roissy," look no further. The film so shocked the bra burning crowd that they picketed theaters that dared to screen this cinematic violence against woman kind. But Pauline Reage was in fact herself a woman. Quelle surprise.

The moomie version is generally well adapted. But for the ham-fisted attempt at gender equality, inserted right at the end. In the book, Sir Stephan does not stoop to lower himself to O's level. Instead he grants her the privilege of self-destruction if he should abandon her.

7. Battlestar Galactica (1978)

Once upon a time there was a network TV miniseries so expensive to produce, that the pilot footage was recut into a theatrical moomie to recoup some of the costs. It was originally conceived to cash in on the unexpected mass success of a little moomie called Star Wars (1977). Maybe you have heard of it?

Lucas was so salty about it that he got 20th Century Fox to sue. I am, of course, talking about Mormonism's national epic, Battlestar Galactica. Lorne Greene. Dirk Benedict. Richard Hatch. Laurette Spang. Anne Lockhart. It is glorious and shiny chrome-plated American cheese. Remember, toasters don't surf.

8. Moonraker (1979)

Look, there's a lot of James Bond moomies. Good and bad and ugly. But not only is Roger Moore my second favorite Bond, Moonraker is simply the single most over-the-top Cold War spy-action schlock ever put to film. And that is saying something.

We start out with real stuntmen jumping out of a real aeroplane with real parachutes and shooting a real free fall sequence. And if that wasn't nuts enough, we end with a zero-gee EVA assault on a space station. With lasers.

We've got Jaws. We have a theft of the space shuttle. We have a fistfight on top of a swinging tramway cable-car. We've got Goodhead. Women doctors. What a brave new world this is.

9. Excalibur (1981)

Swords. Sorcery. Kings. Wizards. Carmina Burana.

Axes flash. Broadswords swing. Shining armour's piercing ring. Horses run with polished shield. This is Gesamtkunstwerk. This is total art. Directer John Boorman channels Richard Wagner to direct to single best cinematic version of the Matter of Britain ever put to film.

Come for Ygraine's veiled dance of passion. Stay for riding out to battle under a shower of apple blossoms that are doing the exact same symbolic lifting of impermanence and memento mori that cherry blossoms do in samurai films.

If she shows up out of nowhere with "help me step-bro, I'm stuck!" She might be an evil witch. Or your blood-sister. Or both. Likely both. Anál nathrach. Orth’ bháis's bethad. Do chél dénmha.

10. Fire and Ice (1983)

Swords. Sorcery. Kings. Wizards. Fire. Ice.

Written by Gerry Conway and Roy Thomas (writers for Marvel Comics Conan), this animated feature brought together the visual talents of Ralph Bakshi (Wizards), Frank Frazetta (needs no introduction), James Gurney (Dinotopia), Thomas Kinkaide (yes, that one), and Peter Chung (Aeon Flux).

Who could not love this feast for the eyes? A painting that moves. Also the red joy of slaughtering yellow-brown subhumans.

Part 1 of 4.

To be continued…

Part the second.

Part the third.

Part the fourth.