Q This

I’ve wanted to watch Q The Winged Serpent for a ridiculous amount of years. Then I forgot about it. Rinse, repeat. Thankfully, I had lunch at a Thai restaurant last week and what poster should they have hanging on their lobby wall? 

Oh yeah. Q-ueue it! 

Quick Plot: Random New Yorkers are being grabbed by a gigantic stop animation winged creature, their blood and limbs that don’t make the diet dropped down upon unsuspecting and horrified pedestrians. Only Michael Moriarty--here playing an ex-con, ex-addict wannabe jazz pianist--and cool detective David Carradine can save the city.

The best thing I can say for Q is that in the first ten minutes, the following events transpire:

-A man is skinned

-Blood rains down upon Manhattan

-Michael Moriarty scats

I’ll bet you a Metrocard swipe you guess how I feel about this film.

Slowly, but surely, I’m coming to realize how very much I adore the canon of Larry Cohen. From the haunting monologues of God Told Me To to the giddy insanity of The Stuff, he’s a filmmaker that never fails to be interesting. Like The Stuff, Q is never actually scary, instead tapping into the grimy spirit of ‘80s Manhattan, the utter oddness of Michael Moriarty, and the glorious then-modernization of old school giant urban monster mashing. It’s kind of a joy in all possible directions

High Points

Enough can’t be said about Michael Moriarity in a Larry Cohen film. The man seems batshit insane in real life, but when working with a Cohen script, his bizarre approach is simply fascinating.

Low Points

Between the adorably dated stop motion and quirky script, there’s nothing actually scary about Q, but isn’t that okay when we have lines like “Maybe his head just got loose and fell off?”

Lessons Learned

The Chrysler is a great place to hide things

Even the toughest gangster can lose some street cred when he sports a vibrant velour track suit

Mimes can make surprisingly effective--and silent--spies

The more PC way of saying ‘flayed’ is ‘skinning’

Rent/Bury/Buy

I will eventually add Q to my collection because much like just about every Cohen film I’ve ever seen, I get the feeling it will benefit from repeat viewings when the surprise factor can be replaced with relaxed enjoyment. The DVD includes a typically fun Cohen/Bill Lustig commentary, a great discussion that reveals some hilarious tips for directing Moriarty (hint: it involves songwriting). 

Quick Fix Finales

Paul Solet’s Grace is a fascinating, disturbing, and haunting little thriller that wedges itself under your skin, then dies suddenly before it can lay eggs. It’s effective and upsetting but for me, it stumbles in its third act by forcing its characters into a contrived and somewhat predictable violent confrontation.

I love cinematic violence. Splatter films have their own sub-section in my DVD collection and my heart tends to drop a tad when it learns a kickass trailer is approved for thirteen year olds. Recent favorites include the French import Inside, which provided a powerful example of how to end with (SPOILERS) a do-it-yourself C-sectiom and not have your audience feel exploited, and William Friedken’s woefully underrated Bug, a play-turned-film chronicling a romantic descent into mania that culminated in a horrifically graphic nightmare. The flawed but fun Silent Hill is rightfully memorable for its razor-sharp ivy-filled finale. And yes, Carrie is a classic example of how to build character and story well enough to earn a 20 minute massacre. These films--and their endings--leave the audience feeling hurt and abused, but not cheated.

Think of the apex of baby horror, Roman Polanski’s Rosemary’s Baby. It never teases us with the suggestion that poor Mrs. Woodhouse is going to have to stab her way through a coven of satanists or wrestle her evil neighbors (although the sight of pregnant Mia Farrow tumbling with the gloriously spry Ruth Gordon would have bested Yoda’s dual with Christopher Lee as greatest fight in mainstream filmdom). There is no final chase with slain civilians or blood-soaked showdown. Rosemary confronts her tormentors and makes a decision, leaving us terrified of what’s to come by the sheer force of suggestion.

One of my favorite films of this year so far has been Neill Blomkamp's incredibly innovative District 9. Thoughtful, skeptical, and not afraid to twist and reshape the typical summer blockbuster cliches, this film comes dangerously close to being Great (yes, with a capital) and then...well it gets really...fun. By its final act, the documentary style and social subtext so carefully explored in the opening half hour take a break while a Trasformers-y chase and shootout closes the show. It’s fun to watch and rich with suspense, but ultimately, it reduces what started out as an almost subversive and important popcorn film to a smarter-to-than-your-average alien actionfest.

Some films take the opposite route by opening with the money shots and slowly fooling us with second act smarts. Take Larry Cohen's God Told Me To, which features a terrifying first scene wherein a madman guns down New York extras and quickly moves slows down into more heady fare. Its most disturbing scene is a mere monologue (although said speech is said by a father explaining how he killed his entire family). The blockbuster juggernaut The Sixth Sense is admittedly low on the type of violence found in a Clark film, but notice how it also leaves its entire last 30 minutes to quiet moments as characters deal with the supernatural in calm yet creepy ways. Even Shion Sono's Suicide Club--an avant garde piece of sorts busting with blood, flattened-out human skin, and stickily stubborn earlobes--ultimately steps away from its insane visual nastiness to wrap up (kind of) its plot (although for some, J-pop may be more frightening and offensive than jumping in front of a moving subway or slicing off your own hand while making a sandwich for the kids).

This brings me back to Grace, which is indeed a strong and worth-your-money movie. The problem I have with it (cue SPOILER sirens) is not that it ends with an act of violence between its two female leads, but that it reduces a complex relationship into what you can do with a hammer and ex-girlfriend. Did I expect family counseling or a custody case? No, but the sudden resolution felt too easy in eliminating a character that had been developed so carefully throughout the film. I believe anyone is capable of violence, and more specifically, that most mothers would not hesitate in doing whatever it would take to protect their children. 

It just doesn't mean that's all we deserve to watch.

Agree, disagree, want to end this with a quick and sudden act of violence? Leave it in word form below:

God Told Me To Tell You To See This Movie

Few things are more frightening than everyday people committing heinous acts of violence. It's part of why I recently found myself explaining how haunting Gus Van Sant's Elephant is. For 90 minutes, you meander through high school walls and eavesdrop on its 'real life' teenaged conversations. Then, right between the afternoon sun and the lunch bell, a pair of 16 year olds march inside and open fire on everyone from the head cheerleader to the shy library aide. Yes, it's disturbing for being so close to the actual Columbine massacre, but it's also the non-Hollywood look and sound of amateur actors role playing a situation that hardly seems forced.


The great Larry Cohen's God Told Me To begins with a scene of almost documentary-esque violence, setting viewers up in a recognizable universe where general rules of safety and conduct are no longer guaranteed. For the first half or so, this is the terrifying environment we find ourselves in. Once plot points are revealed, Cohen takes us in an equally interesting, if slightly less primal place. The end result is memorable and will make you think; the opening is unsettling and will give you nightmares.


Quick Plot: A typical workday in NYC comes to a bloody halt when a rifleman perched on a water tower starts gunning down passing strangers. Detective Peter Nicholas (Tony Lo Bianco) attempts to talk the shooter down face to face. Not surprisingly, he’s unsuccessful, but this strict Catholic cop does get an answer when he inquires about the motive: “God told me to.”

Later that week, Manhattan preps itself for the annual beerfest--I mean, St. Patrick’s Day Parade. A phoned warning hints that one of NY’s own Finest will open fire on 5th Avenue, but being as “The Irish have waited all year for this!”, the march continues and none other than a fresh-faced Andy Kaufman in uniform goes postal before the world knew what city employees were capable of. Dying words? See title.

To continue with a plot description leads me into dangerously spoiler filled terrain I dare not enter. There’s a lot of directions you’d expect this film to take, but I’m fairly certain most viewers will be surprised by where God Told Me To goes and how it gets there. Cohen wisely grounds his story in Lo Bianco’s Catholic detective, a Catholic struggling with his own decisions who ends up on a journey far more terrifying and weird than one would expect.


God Told Me To is not an explicit horror film along the lines of It’s Alive, nor is it a fluffier piece of satirical insanity like the Dolls House favorite The Stuff. This early Cohen piece has, not surprisingly, its own unique mood aided by the gritty beauty of NYC in its glorious gritty 70sness. The action, however, is hardly limited to 42nd St sleaze. I'm biting my tongue to not give away the force behind the lordly commands, but let's just say it's transcends the Tri-State area in ways only a restrained Larry Cohen could conjure.

High Points
An early scene wherein a murderous father calmly explains how and why he slaughtered his family is one of the most quietly disturbing monolgues I’ve heard on film

Likewise, Sylvia Sydney turns in a strong one-scene performance that succeeds in revealing a surprising, potentially laughable plot point and making it into something sad and scary


The relationship between Pete's two loves plays out in an intriguing and honest way, avoiding the cliches we'd expect from a mistress/ex-wife meetup. Their discussion is well-acted and reveals a few more chilling details


Low Points
Perhaps there’s a better DVD out there (more about that later), but much of the dialogue was muffled. This was especially frustrating since my Netflix’d copy lacked any subtitles


I imagine the low budget had some say here, but it would have been nice to get a liitle more of how the rash of killings were affecting the city of New York


Just as it’s hard to watch any John Carpenter movie and not wish for a dose of Kurt Russell, any Cohen flick without the weirdly charismatic presence of Michael Moriarity also feels a tad incomplete

Lessons Learned
Never let your son hang out with a dirty long-haired hippie...particularly if said bad influence possesses an angelic glow and oddly placed vaginal opening


It’s easy to sweet talk a nun


Speaking to God will make you rapidly age ten years before your 22nd birthday; other side effects include going on a killing spree

When a man calls in a serious terrorism threat and begins his warning with “Don’t ask who I am,” the first thing you should not do is ask who’s speaking


Never date a married Catholic. Soooooo much guilt there


Rent/Bury/Buy
Like most of Larry Cohen’s work, God Told Me To is rich in ideas and a little less wealthy in execution. Still, the central themes about faith and free will combined with fairly wacky (yet somehow very grounded) story twists overcome some of the awkward plotting and low budget restraints. The performances are top notch all around and most of the early scenes are truly frightening in how they depict random violence hitting everyday urbanites.


A note on the DVD: It seems as though there are a few versions of this film floating about on those fragile little discs, and should you purchase this film (which you should), be sure to get the right release. My Netflix edition was disappointingly bare bones and the transfer was messy and muddled. Look for the Blue Underground edition which features a Cohen/Bill Lustig commentary (yes, that is the team that gave us the sadly inferior, yet gleefully patriotic Uncle Sam). Be sure to tell ‘em God sent ya.