Saturday Matinee: Tamala 2010

By Zac Bertschy

Source: Anime News Network

Synopsis: Tamala 2010 Tamala 2010: A Punk Cat in Space follows the hyperactive, non-sequitur adventures of Tamala, a little kitty with a spaceship. On her way to Orion, her ship is diverted to Planet Q, a place where dogs rule. Chased by a degenerate cop while evading society with the help of love interest Michelangelo, Tamala uncovers not only the secrets behind ‘Catty & Company’, the huge megaconglomerate that rules the Feline Galaxy, but also her own identity. That, and a whole lot of really weird stuff happens.

Review: The product of an artist group called Trees of Life (“t.o.L”), Tamala 2010: A Punk Cat in Space is as strange a thing as you’ll ever see. Doubtlessly produced under the influence of past animated ‘head trips’ like The Beatles’ classic film Yellow Submarine, Tamala 2010 is, without a doubt, something that will only appeal to a very specific audience: art students and college kids strung out on illegal substances.

Tamala 2010 follows something of a storyline. Basically, we follow Tamala, a sort of Hello Kitty-alike who swears like a sailor and flies around in her retro spaceship. Engine trouble pops up, and she’s mistakenly rerouted to Planet Q, a place inhabited almost enitely by dogs. There’s a mild terrorism problem; dogs attack cats at random. Meeting up with a cat named Michelangelo, Tamala evades a perverted canine policeman and uncovers a whole load of mysteries and secrets surrounding Catty & Company, the gigantic corporation that controls nearly everything in the Feline Galaxy. That description, of course, makes the film sound fairly straightforward and simple, which is, unfortunately, not the case. The movie goes off on a series of hallucinogenic tangents that have almost nothing to do with the main storyline and will confuse anyone who isn’t paying strict attention. The irony is that the film seems to have been designed to make the viewer tune out, so paying strict attention might be missing the point.

Deciphering Tamala 2010’s message is fairly difficult. A single viewing of the film won’t reveal much of anything, except a warped sort of anti-capitalist message that doesn’t really assert itself due to the totally detached and apathetic main character. Catty & Company winds up being connected to a bizarre religious cult and supposedly has the ability to make and remake the universe in its own image; this all connects to Tamala, who doesn’t seem to really care about anything that’s happening around her. A visit to the t.o.L website reveals that the purpose of Tamala is to create a worldwide merchandising franchise, something that will basically do what Sanrio’s wretched saccharine creations have already done. Great. So what’s the point?

Well, for most people, the point is that this film is something to watch while stoned, created by artists who were also stoned. This conclusion is a little unfair; these days we have a tendency to attribute anything even slightly surreal or abstract to the abuse of narcotics, which undermines the entire concept of creativity. Tamala 2010, while certainly as tangential and nonsensical as your favorite addict’s acid trip stories, seems to be the concentrated effort of a group of artists to create something more than just entertainment. Whether or not they were successful is another matter entirely; if this really was an attempt at sparking a worldwide phenomenon, then why did they produce a cultish, R-rated animated movie with which to promote their concept? Only t.o.L really knows what the purpose of this film was, and we, as viewers, are asked simply to consume and draw our own conclusions.

Artistically, the film is unique. The characters are animated in a sort of Flash-like fashion, with smooth and simple movements. Vehicles and some backdrops are animated in 3-D; the result is a piece of pop art unlike anything else. The film is mostly in black and white, using color very sparingly. It’s hard to tell if the visual style of this film is intended to put across any sort of message; you just never know with films like this one. The soundtrack is a surprisingly pleasant trance mix, perfectly suited for the visuals. As an art piece, Tamala 2010 does not disappoint.

Basically, if you’re a film student, or an art student, you owe it to yourself to see this film at least once. It’s one of those cult events that any serious underground culture junkie will have seen. The artist group that created it seems strangely cultish, and it’s a wonder there isn’t more information out there regarding them and their project. Whatever conclusion you come to, Tamala 2010 is a unique experience, totally different from anything else available on the market today (aside from, you know, Cat Soup and Yellow Submarine).

Saturday Matinee: Gremlins 2

By Kevin Lyons

Source: EOFFTV Review

Conventional wisdom has it that Gremlins 2: The Last Batch, Joe Dante’s follow up to his hit 1984 film Gremlins, is an inferior film. In truth, it’s just a very different film – same idea (the first half is pretty much a remake of the original) but with lots of new jokes, some stinging satire, fewer moments of childhood-scarring darkness (you’ll find no analogue for the father-in-the-chimney speech here) and a big city setting. The original will always be the “better” film by virtue of having come first, but that doesn’t mean that this madcap sequel can be so easily dismissed out of hand.

The Christmas setting of the original is largely abandoned, though Gremlins 2 seems to be set in the early half of December. In New York, slimy business tycoon Daniel Clamp (John Glover), a transparent pop at Donald Trump, already a figure of mockery 26 years before he became US president, has plans to redevelop Chinatown into a soulless shopping centre. The only hold out is Mr Wing (Keye Luke) who still lives behind his shop and who has Gizmo the mogwai (voiced by Howie Mandel) with him. When Wing dies, the shop is demolished and Gizmo ends up at Splice of Life, Inc., a genetic engineering lab in Clamp Tower. Elsewhere in the building, Billy Peltzer (Zach Halligan) and his fiancée Kate Beringer (Phoebe Cates), who have located to the Big Apple from Kingston Falls, are working menial jobs for Clamp – he’s an underappreciated and bullied draftsman and designer, she’s a tour guide in the building. When Billy hears someone humming Gizmo’s distinctive song, he rescue the mogwai from the clutches of Dr Catheter (Christopher Lee) and his assistants Martin and Lewis (Don and Dan Stanton).

Inevitably, Gizmo gets wet, spawns dozens of offspring who eat after midnight and transform into a pack of ravening and very aggressive gremlins on the loose (“All they have to do is to eat three or four children and there’d be the most appalling publicity!” frets Catheter.) And so far as plot goes, that’s pretty much it. The rest of the film is one gremlin-based set piece after the other as the curious and ravenous creatures ingest samples from Catheter’s lab (“I could get you diseases – you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he offers) transforming into a winged creature, a femme fatale who takes a shine to Clamp’s head of security (Robert Picardo) and an urbane and articulate “brain gremlin” (voiced by Tony Randall).

To make up for the lack of a plot, Dante and his writer Charles S. Haas pack the film to the rafters with sight gags, cameos (composer Jerry Goldsmith, actors John Astin, Henry Gibson, Rick Ducommun, Bubba Smith and Hulk Hogan, and even Dante himself all turn up and Dick Miller and Jackie Joseph return as Kingston Falls residents the Futtermans) and in-jokes, most of them film related: Octaman (1971) is being broadcast on Clamp’s cable television network (the film also takes aim at Ted Turner), renamed The Octopus People; Catheter is seen carrying a pod suspiciously similar to that seen in Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1955); any number of Universal classic horrors are quoted; and it goes on and on and on.

Some might find the constant callbacks to the films that informed Dante’s childhood – and even ones he made – all a bit too much, but there’s plenty of other humour to enjoy, much of it of a scabrously satirical bent. Where the earlier film had poked fun at the clichés of small-town American in cinema, principally as imagined by Frank Capra and the film’s producer, Steven Spielberg, the sequel casts a jaundiced eye at big city living – ” this is some crazy city” notes a holidaying Futterman, though the gremlins seem to love it, staging a rousing production number around their rendition of New York, New York. 60s action films, particularly Die Hard (1988) and Rambo: First Blood Part II (1985), genetic engineering, our over-reliance on technology that frequently lets us down, the venality of corporate millionaires and even the film industry itself all come under satirical assault too and the film doesn’t really hold back.

The clever thing about the film is how it manages all this while still somehow being more playful than its predecessor. It feels as though the darker elements of Gremlins had been deliberately toned down to make it more suitable for a family audience, particularly the younger children who had found the first film too scary. It still has its moments – the gremlins covered in pulsating sacs as they prepare to reproduce is a strikingly nasty image – but overall, Dante adopts a lighter touch. Perhaps to reassure anyone still worried by the cartoon-like mayhem (the film begins with a Warner Bros. style cartoon), the film even breaks down at one point, damaged by the gremlins, prompting a moment of weird self-reflexiveness as an angry mother (Dante regular Belinda Balaski, who had also been in the first film) to complain to the cinema manager (Paul Bartel) that “this is worse than the first one!”

The cast tend to play second fiddle to the gremlins created by Rick Baker’s Cinovation Studio but Christopher Lee stands out in a role that requires him to disappear for great lengths, but which gives him plenty of splendid dialogue to savour – “oh splendid, this must be my malaria” he exclaims gleefully when taking delivery of some new samples. He seems to have had a ball on the film, enjoying both the experience of working alongside Baker’s manic creations and the exposure that a big budget – though not entirely successful – blockbuster brought him. It’s often easy to forget that he could do comedy rather well and the chance to deadpan his way through lines like ” I swear to God, young man, I will never hurt anything ever again. There are some things that man is not meant to splice” is one he grasps with real relish.

Gremlins 2: The New Batch is unapologetically unruly, Dante skating perilously close to self-indulgence at times (film critic Leonard Maltin, who had pasted the original film, gets attacked by vengeful gremlins on the set of his new television show, while brandishing a videocassette of Gremlins) but just reins it in in time. You don’t see mainstream Hollywood films as wild and manic as this being made any more.

Sadly, despite toning down the horror, the film didn’t perform anywhere near as well at the box office as the original (it opened on the same day in the States as Dick Tracy and couldn’t compete with all the star power that far lesser film was able to bring to bear). It put a stop to the Gremlins franchise and apart from a few fan films, it remained dormant for many years, despite Dante’s best efforts to get a third film off the ground. And then in mid-2022, a third film, referred to by Dante on social media as Gremlins: Secrets of the Mogwai, seemed to be edging closer to production. Whether it gets made, and whether its as anarchic, silly and as much fun as Gremlins 2 will remain to be seen.

Struggle Against Spasticity

In my experience so far, the predominant source of pain post-injury has been muscle tightness and spasms. Because my injury resulted in damage to upper motor neurons, which relay motor signals from the brain to the spinal cord, signals which relax muscles don’t go through. This results in spasms and over-contraction of muscles. Through my stay at neuro ICU, I was just starting to feel the intensity and frequency of muscle tightness and spasms gradually increase. I also began to discern differences between types of spasms and ways to manage it.

Some spasms, usually in my feet or legs, seem to occur when touched or moved. Others happen randomly and though not painful, are problematic when trying to sleep. At Harborview my usual solution would be to request oxycodone and Tylenol. Baclofen and Dantrolene, prescription muscle relaxants I take regularly, also provide relief though not as immediately effective. Eventually I learned to counteract random spasms by triggering spasms intentionally.

I discovered this by accident, while attempting to move parts of my body I was still able to move. For example, by flexing muscles in my neck and shoulders in a certain pattern and intensity, other muscles in my chest, abdomen, back and legs would be triggered, tightening similarly to a ratchet or boa constrictor. At first the sensation alarmed me and I would quickly request oxy, not sure if the muscles would keep tightening until I was unable to breathe.

After some experimenting, I realized I wasn’t at risk for suffocation for now, though it’s possible that could change in the future since I’ve learned from talking to others with quadriplegia that some do have restricted breathing from such spasms. For now it remains slightly uncomfortable but effectively reduces the occurrence of random spasms for varying lengths of time afterwards.

Weeks later when I was transferred to the rehab unit, I discovered I had the ability to intentionally start and stop a less intense spasm at will. By using slight emergent movement in my left leg in just the right position I was able to trigger repetitive foot tapping for up to 15 or 20 minutes. It may not have had much practical function but I theorized even limited movement might have some positive effect, whether improved circulation and flexibility, strengthened muscles, perhaps even enabling more emergent movement in the future. At the very least it provides a welcome sense of control over my body and also seemed to help prevent random spasms.

Muscle tightness is another ongoing issue I began to feel worsening while at neuro ICU. It could be temporarily alleviated with the same meds used for spasms as well as with massage, stretching exercises, electro stimulation and acupuncture. Unfortunately nothing I’ve tried so far has been able to prevent the muscle tightness from continuing to get worse over time.

Over the course of just a couple of weeks I began to feel more intensely how the muscle tightness began to affect my perception of phantom limbs. For example, muscle tightening in my legs caused my phantom limb legs to feel bent with knees up while my legs were actually straight and flat. Muscle tightening in my forearms made my phantom limb arms feel tightly shackled. Muscle tightening in my hands made phantom hands feel as if they were permanently holding rocks.

One of the reasons for the strengthening muscle tightness and spasms was the decreasing inflammation from the injury. My muscles at the time were still fairly strong compared to the baseline tone they retain without additional exercise. Unfortunately as certain muscles regain strength with the help of stretches and assisted exercises, tightened muscles and spasms increase in strength and frequency as well. Like many aspects of life after spinal cord injury, it’s a blessing and a curse.

Saturday Matinee: Dreams That Money Can Buy

Watch Dreams That Money Can Buy, a Surrealist Film by Man Ray, Marcel Duchamp, Alexander Calder, Fernand Léger & Hans Richter

By Colin Marshall

Source: Open Culture

“Everybody dreams. Everybody travels, sometimes into countries where strange beauty, wisdom, adventure, love expects him.” These words, a tad floaty and dreamlike themselves, open 1947’s Dreams That Money Can Buy. “This is a story of dreams mixed with reality,” the narrator intones. He can say that again. Directed by Hans Richter, painter, graphic artist, avant-gardist, “film-experimenter,” and energetic member of the Dada movement, the picture takes a storyline that seems mundanely realistic — impecunious poet finds apartment, then must figure out how to pay the rent — and bends it into all manner of surreal shapes. And I do, literally, mean surreal, since several of the scenes come from the minds of noted avant-garde and surrealist artists, including, besides Richter himself, painter and photographer Man Ray, conceptualist Marcel Duchamp, sculptor Alexander Calder, and painter-sculptor-filmmaker Fernand Léger.

Joe, the film’s protagonist, finds he has a sort of superpower: by looking into the eyes of another, he can see the contents of their mind. He promptly sets up a sort of consultation business where he examines the unconscious thoughts of a client: say, an unambitious banker whose wife lives “like a double-entry column: no virtues, no vices.” He then uses the abstract materials of their thoughts to come up with a self-contained, somewhat less abstract dream for them to dream: in the banker’s case, a dream called Desire, which takes the form of a short film by Dadaist painter-sculptor-graphic artist-poet Max Ernst. For Joe’s other, differently neurotic customers, Richter, Man Ray, Duchamp, Calder, and Léger come up with suitable formally and aesthetically distinct dreams. While all these artists imbue Dreams That Money Can Buy with their own inimitable sensibilities (or nonsense abilities, as the case may be), I feel as though certain modern filmmakers would have the time of their lives remaking it. Michel Gondry comes to mind.