B-Movie Bingo: The Killing Zone
Your monthly opportunity to literally check off a bingo card full of B-movie clichés! This month’s entry is 1991’s The Killing Zone, about the leader of a Mexican drug cartel who goes on a one-man warpath of glistening, shirt-free vengeance after his brother is murdered in his prison cell. Only one man can stop him: Malibu from American Gladiators, and Malibu’s uncle, who is named Sam. And if you’re like, “But that’s two people,” then I’m gonna tell you that sort of nitpicky attitude is not gonna fly at B-Movie Bingo, sport, so just shut up and enjoy your suppurating beefcake. (Tues Sept 3, Hollywood Theatre) BOBBY ROBERTS

Beast Wishes
Film curator Greg Hamilton hosts a screening of Beast Wishes, a doc about genre film memorabilia collectors Bob and Kathy Burns. Effects artist Chris Walas (The Fly, Gremlins) in attendance, along with Beast Wishes director Frank Dietz. (Sun Sept 8, Hollywood Theatre)

Brittany Runs a Marathon
Me, for the first 70 minutes of Brittany Runs a Marathon: “This is some fat-shamey nonsense.” When Brittany (Jillian Bell in a freakin’ fat suit) visits a doctor in hopes of scoring Adderall, she instead gets a lecture on her weight—despite the doctor knowing nothing else about her health and even though in 2019 we all know telling a fat person to “just lose weight” is not effective and will likely lead to a negative impact on their health. But anyway, Brittany decides to get her life together by losing weight and training for a marathon. There are a lot of scenes of her stepping on a scale and celebrating, which were bad for my brain. But then: Me, for the last part of the movie: “She’s putting the scale away! Okay, this movie mayyyyyybe gets it.” I’m happy this wasn’t actually a feature-length film about how losing weight can change your life (vom), because once she’s out of the problematic prosthetics, Bell is hilarious. There are plenty of enjoyable things in this movie, but I can’t recommend it to anyone who’s struggled with disordered eating. (Opens Fri Sept 6, various theaters) ELINOR JONES

Carnival Row
Amazon’s reportedly spending more than a billion dollars on their upcoming Lord of the Rings show, but they must’ve saved a hefty chunk of change to pay for Carnival Row, a sumptuous steampunk mystery/fantasy/allegory that’s as jumbled and baffling as that mashed-up description sounds. Based on a movie script that’s been knocking around Hollywood since 2005, the eight-episode series—hitting Amazon Prime this weekend—is now swollen with a veritable bounty of intercrossing plotlines, none of which I can type about with a straight face. Read our full review. (Fri Aug 30, Amazon Prime Video) NED LANNAMANN

Chomp! PDX: A Food Film Festival
A new, food-focused Portland film festival—this year featuring four short films with a horror theme, a limited-release Red IPA from Pono Brewing, food, a raffle, and more. (Sat Sept 7, 7 pm, Mayfly Taproom and Bottle Shop)

Cinema Classics: The Searchers
Maybe the most interesting thing about John Ford’s The Searchers isn’t even in the movie. It’s an essay about the movie, written by Jonathan Lethem, who spent almost all of his frustrated youth trying to simply watch the film to completion with a group of friends without them either snarking on it or checking out completely, thus denying him the long-sought epiphany he wanted to share with Martin Scorsese and Steven Spielberg. Not to spoil the climax of his essay, but the epiphany never comes. The Searchers is a good western, and the number of films it has inspired are many. But almost all its descendants are better films (a short list would include Taxi Driver, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, and Paris, Texas) and none of them have John Wayne’s bloviating, repugnant ass ambling all over the frame like a bowlegged bear with shit stuck to his ass and no tree to scrape it on. But if you want to call yourself a student of the masters, The Searchers will never not be on the syllabus. So if you’re coming to the show, ratchet your expectations somewhere between “epiphany” and “hope nobody starts cracking jokes in the theater.” (Sat Sept 7 & Sun Sept 8, Hollywood Theatre) BOBBY ROBERTS

Concerning Violence
Göran Olsson’s 2014 documentary in which Lauryn Hill narrates Frantz Fanon’s post-colonist essay from 1961—an essay that “discusses the ways in which the native frees oneself from their European oppressor and explores the dehumanizing physical and psychological effects of colonialism.” (Fri Aug 30-Sun Sept 1, Fifth Avenue Cinema)

The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance
Is The Dark Crystal a good movie? Uh… kind of? Nostalgia aside, there’s a lot of awkward clumsiness in Jim Henson and Frank Oz’s 1982 fantasy epic, from its sluggish story to the wince-inducing creepiness of its stars, a pair of dead-eyed puppet elves “Gelflings.” (Oz later remembered showing the film to studio executives: “The film ended. The execs stood up. And they walked out. Not saying a word to us. It was not a good day.”) But nearly four decades later, the look of this world is still something else—a captivating masterwork of rich production design, clever puppetry, and wondrous, unhinged weirdness. The 10-episode prequel The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance is Netflix’s latest nostalgia-baiting cash-in, and while the streamer declined to show any episodes to critics, all signs indicate that—once again—the moody, hallucinogenic visuals (with puppetry from Jim Henson’s Creature Shop!) will be the reason to tune in. (Consult your local budtender before viewing.) (Streams Fri Aug 30, Netflix) ERIK HENRIKSEN

David Crosby: Remember My Name
This unflinching documentary surveys the life of David Crosby, from his rock-star glory days with the Byrds and CSN to his ’80s drug-addict lows to his unlikely late-career resurgence. The noticeably frail and occasionally prickly Crosby is thoroughly grilled by Cameron Crowe (who doesn’t hold back on the tough questions), and the film ends on a peculiarly sour note, with Crosby taking stock of his many regrets and burned bridges. (Opens Fri Aug 30, Cinema 21) NED LANNAMANN

Easy Rider
As an elegy for the naïve, easily-curdled optimism of the ’60s, Easy Rider only barely worked when it came out, and it doesn’t work at all now. If you want to pay tribute to Peter Fonda (RIP), skip this self-indulgent bullshit and rent Ulee’s Gold from Movie Madness and watch that instead. Oooh! Also rent The Limey, where Fonda really digs into being a bad guy in one of Steven Soderbergh’s very best movies. (Fri Sept 6, Hollywood Theatre) BOBBY ROBERTS

Fiddler: A Miracle of Miracles
A documentary about the history of Fiddler on the Roof. Not to be confused with Diddler: A Miracle of Miracles, a different documentary. (Opens Fri Sept 6, Regal Fox Tower 10)

★ GODZILLATHON!
We’re all familiar, I suspect, with Godzilla as a concept, but how many installments of the legendary kaiju franchise have you actually seen? Thankfully, the Hollywood Theatre’s weekend-long GODZILLATHON represents a great opportunity to stomp-stomp-stomp through Godzilla’s swinging ’70s oeuvre. The four movies on offer—Destroy All Monsters, Godzilla vs. Megalon, Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla, and Godzilla on Monster Island, produced by Japanese production company Toho in rapid succession from 1968 to 1974—represent the big green dino-lizard at his goofiest and most accessible. (Fri Aug 30-Sun Sept 1, Hollywood Theatre) BEN COLEMAN

Head Cleaner: Return to Oz
The sequel to one of the most beloved motion pictures of all time. Also a film that scarred a generation. And not just because of the Wheelers (although Jesus Christ the goddamned Wheelers), but because even if you don’t have the the classic 1939 musical to compare it against—which was in its own way softly nightmarish—the editing, the music, the imagery? It’s all off-putting and slippery, aiming for a blend of whimsical and edgy and winding up somewhere closer to diet David Lynch. Return to Oz is like following the yellow brick road and finding out it turned into Mulholland Drive somewhere behind you. But, you know—for kids! (Sun Sept 1, Northwest Film Center at Whitsell Auditorium) BOBBY ROBERTS

Hollywood Babylon: Night Nurse
A 35mm print of the then-controversial Barbara Stanwyck crime flick from 1931. (Thurs Sept 12, Hollywood Theatre)

Honeyland
Hatidze subsists in the Macedonian mountains in much the same world as her ancestors hundreds of years ago: a hut made of stones, no electricity, no running water, living off the land. She lives with her very old mother, surviving by harvesting honey and selling it in the town market. When a nomadic Turkish family with seven wild kids in an RV set up nearby with their herd of cows, they change the atmosphere drastically. The father is under heavy pressure to support the family, and he has little regard for the environment or engaging in sustainable practices. The doc is an interesting glimpse into a quiet, old way of life, but the pace is slow, and the film sags while the people just hang out and go about their daily business. (Opens Fri Aug 30, Living Room Theaters) GILLIAN ANDERSON

It: Chapter Two
See review. (Opens Fri Sept 6, The Barrens)

Jay Myself
Jay Maisel is both a brilliant photographer and a huge packrat, and this documentary by one of his protégés, Stephen Wilkes, catches him as he’s moving out of his home of nearly 50 years. It’s not just any old home—in 1966, Maisel bought the six-story Germania Bank Building in SoHo for $102,000, then filled the entire thing with his work. Wilkes’ film is short on biographical details, and more history about the gorgeous building would’ve been nice, but it effectively captures the photographer’s last days in this enormous, one-of-a-kind museum he built around himself, filled with equal parts treasure and trash. (Don’t cry too much for Maisel—the building sold for a cool $55 million.) (Opens Fri Aug 30, Living Room Theaters) NED LANNAMANN

Kung Fu Theater: The Victim
A screening of the only known 35mm print of 1980’s The Victim, starring Sammo Hung. (Tues Sept 20, Hollywood Theatre)

Midsommar: Director’s Cut
Even more of the movie with the title no one can agree on how to pronounce. (Fri Aug 30-Sun Sept 1, Hollywood Theatre)

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★ Mike Wallace Is Here
“A nation’s press is a good yardstick of a nation’s health,” a young Mike Wallace says in old black-and-white footage early in Mike Wallace Is Here. “Take a look at the history of any nation which has lost its freedoms, and you will find that the men who grabbed the power also had to crush the free press.” Director Avi Belkin’s doc about the famed 60 Minutes reporter—who interviewed everyone from Malcolm X to Ayatollah Khomeini to Oprah Winfrey to Eleanor Roosevelt to Vladimir Putin—is a smart, measured look at Wallace’s greatest journalistic hits and misses, his struggles with depression, and his influence over a changing, weakening news business. (“You’re a dinosaur!” a belligerent Bill O’Reilly shouts at Wallace—and in the same breath, notes Wallace was a huge influence on him.) Unlike another recent journalism doc—HBO’s lightweight The Newspaperman: The Life and Times of Ben Bradlee, about the heroic editor of The Washington Post—Mike Wallace Is Here remains clear-eyed and hard-hitting, just as, one imagines, the no-bullshit Wallace would have wanted it. Take, for example, when Larry King attempts to chide Wallace for his brusqueness, and Wallace responds: “Do not confuse anger and hostility with an insistence on getting to the bottom line, to the fact.” (Now playing, Cinema 21) ERIK HENRIKSEN

★ Miles Davis: Birth of the Cool
At one point or another, nearly every person interviewed in Miles Davis: Birth of the Cool slips into an impression of Davis’ gravely speaking voice. It’s a minor detail in this superb documentary about the famed trumpeter, but a telling one: No matter how awful he was (ill-tempered and drug-hungry, Davis was also notoriously abusive to the women in his life), everyone in his orbit wanted to be Miles Davis. Director Stanley Nelson makes a great case for the allure of Davis’ ineffable cool and creative genius, while not shying away from his uglier qualities. (Opens Sept 6, Cinema 21) ROBERT HAM

★ The Nightingale
The Nightingale isn’t the rape revenge film it’s being passed off as—or it’s not only that, anyway. It’s a film about colonialism and a hierarchy of oppression that hurts everyone involved, though mostly the people at the bottom: women, people of color, and children. It’s also a story of love and strength. It has a startling, sparse sound design by Robert Mackenzie, and gorgeous landscapes—alpine wilderness, dry lands, and fog—shot in parts of Tasmania that Kent says have never been filmed before. There’s a lot to the film, and I respect anyone who needs to sit this one out. But if you go into The Nightingale, be a witness to history. Don’t look away. (Now playing, Living Room Theaters) SUZETTE SMITH

One Child Nation
Nanfu Wang and Jialing Zhang’s documentary takes a first-person look—namely, Wang’s—at China’s now-discontinued policy of requiring that parents only have one child. One Child Nation doesn’t avoid brutal realities: Huaru Yuan, a now-84-year-old midwife who helped deliver Wang, estimates that she particiapted in “between 50,000 to 60,000 sterilizations and abortions.” “I counted all of this out of guilt because I aborted and killed babies,” she tells Wang. “Many I induced alive and killed. My hands trembled doing it. But I had no choice: It was the government’s policy.” (Now playing, Living Room Theaters)

#OregonMade Film Series: The Postman
In the ‘90s, we let Kevin Costner believe he was Clint Eastwood for much, much longer than we should have. I’m not sure why we did this. It’s not like Eastwood wasn’t still around and making movies like Unforgiven and A Perfect World—which actually starred Costner and should have been a clear message that all our Eastwood needs are filled, such as they are, thank you and good day. But Costner didn’t stop, and that’s how we wound up with the earnest-yet-bugfuck Waterworld and the made-in-Oregon post-apocalyptic adventure The Postman, about a a Shakespeare-quoting nomad (Costner, who else) who almost singlehandedly rebuilds the might of the United States by pretending to be the fuckin’ mailman. We’re a long way from Bull Durham, kids. Enjoy the ride. (Wed Sept 4, Hollywood Theatre) BOBBY ROBERTS

★ Queer Commons: Call Me By Your Name
There aren’t many films that can paint a picture of the extravagant turmoil of young romance without lapsing into clunky cliché. But Call Me by Your Name is such a film—and it succeeds by seamlessly juxtaposing the lush Italian countryside with the burgeoning desires and tumultuous emotions of a lovesick teen, creating a sumptuous world of dreams and romantic loss. (Wed Sept 11, Hollywood Theatre) WM. STEVEN HUMPHREY

Queer Horror: Hello Mary Lou: Prom Night II
Imagine being a young woman in the 1950s and having to deal with institutional repression, oppression, and nonstop judgment. Imagine as a response saying, “Fuck it,” not caring about being seen as a “bad girl,” and living your freest self. Imagine dying young, thanks to a fuckin’ smoke bomb accident before you get crowned prom queen, and staying so mad about it over the next 30 years of your afterlife that, as soon as you get the opportunity, you spiritually possess a new prom queen and indulge in as much ’80s-era sleaze and nastiness as you possibly can before hall-of-fame hardass Michael Ironside shuts your whole shit down. Congratulations! You just imagined Hello Mary Lou: Prom Night II. You can go wash your brain out now. (Thurs Sept 5, Hollywood Theatre) BOBBY ROBERTS

Ready or Not
It was right around the time when newlywed Grace (Samara Weaving) punched her pre-teen nephew in the face and subsequently fell into a pit filled with decomposing bodies that I found myself completely shutting off to Ready or Not, the new horror-comedy from filmmaking collective Radio Silence. From there, atrophy set in—rendering me numb to each subsequent act of violence that was supposed to shock and/or amuse me. In Ready or Not, the filmmakers’ significant efforts to riff on awful rich people and the dumb shit we all do in the name of family are completely undermined by every moment of screeching histrionics and squishing flesh, and the movie’s attempt to land a big gut punch its final line feels instead like getting gently slapped with a wet nap. (Now playing, various theaters) ROBERT HAM

★ Rumble in the Bronx
Jackie Chan’s first big success in America, 1995’s Rumble in the Bronx (which, as the mountains visible in the background might imply, was shot in Vancouver, BC) remains a goofy, light, super-fun showcase of just about all of Chan’s breakneck charms. (Or, in this case, break-ankle: stay during the credits for a brutal reel of stunts gone wrong.) The action’s great, Chan’s hilarious and impressive, and aside from maybe Drunken Master II or Police Story, you’ll be hard-pressed to find a better Jackie Chan movie. (Fri Aug 30-Thurs Sept 5, Academy Theater) ERIK HENRIKSEN

★ Stage Meets Screen: Brazil
There are two things Terry Gilliam is legitimately great at: Making provocative films, and provoking the people who fund his creations. In 1985, Gilliam’s masterpiece on both fronts, Brazil, was (barely) released—a delirious fever dream of dystopian sci-fi that blends the best of Fritz Lang and Steven Spielberg into a funny, sad, and scary satire. The only thing more audacious than the film is the story of Gilliam dragging Universal Pictures into a very public street fight to save his film from the scissor-happy hands of the studio—and winning. Savor Gilliam’s victory, courtesy of Artist Repertory Theatre’s “Stage Meets Screen” series, as a companion piece to their production of George Orwell’s 1984.(Sun Sept 7, Hollywood Theatre) BOBBY ROBERTS

★ The Third Man
It’s now as much of a cliché as it is an opinion, but Orson Welles’ Citizen Kane—which he made in 1941, when he was 25 goddamn years old—comes up in any discussion about the best movies ever made. But 17 years later, Welles starred in Carol Reed’s The Third Man—and that movie might be the better one. Nasty, clever, and with enough creepy shadows to choke a vampire, The Third Man is technically about writer Holly Martins (Joseph Cotten), who pokes around Vienna looking for clues about his dead pal Harry Lime (Welles), but it’s the charming, vicious Welles who steals the show. Few movies can match the exhilarating thrum that pulses through Reed’s film—especially when Welles is onscreen. (Fri Sept 6-Thurs Sept 12, Academy Theater) ERIK HENRIKSEN

★ This Is Not Berlin
Film critic Nate Jones (or his editor) wrote a good headline in his review of This Is Not Berlin for Vulture: “The Movie That Will Make You Want to Become a Pansexual New-Wave Performance Artist in 1980s Mexico.” I very much identified with this headline while watching director Hari Sama’s semi-autobiographical film about being a teenager in mid-1980s Mexico City, although the looming AIDS epidemic is certainly something to consider when pondering time travel. Anyhow, the film’s riotous new wave fun, paired with drugs and ennui and a bustling Mexico City backdrop, makes it a more interesting addition to the glut of ’80s nostalgic teen movies coming from today’s Gen X filmmakers. (Opens Fri Sept 6, Cinema 21) CHASE BURNS

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Tigers Are Not Afraid
An assured, suitably creepy horror/drama/coming-of-age film from writer/director Issa López, Tigers Are Not Afraid takes place in an unnamed, drug war-torn Mexican city, where young Estrella (Paola Lara) finds herself on the streets with a gang of tough, abandoned kids, led by the tiny, unpredictable Shine (Juan Ramón López). On the run with these boys—and hiding from a cruel local gang that vanishes adults and children alike—Estrella begins glimpsing eerie visions and hearing the raspy demands of vengeance-thirsty ghosts. Beautifully shot, and with moving performances from its young cast, Tigers is getting compared a lot to Guillermo del Toro’s early work, and for good reason: While it isn’t as graceful or inventive as Cronos or The Devil’s Backbone, it subtly, effectively creates a sense of something being deeply wrong—both in our world and, perhaps, in one that’s right next to it. (Opens Fri Sept 6, Hollywood Theatre) ERIK HENRIKSEN

★ Wake Up Dreaming Noir Festival: Out of the Past & Ride the Pink Horse
There are noirs, there are noirs, and then there’s Out of the Past, representing the best of the genre. That’s a bold claim when you consider bonafide classics like Double Indemnity, Sunset Boulevard, and The Maltese Falcon, but almost every defining aspect of noir is actually defined here: The inscrutable plotting that only just makes sense in the final five minutes; dialogue so savory the screenplay must have been brined in salt for a month; light escaping from an ocean of inky shadows to catch every last tendril of smoke from roughly five million cigarettes and transforming them into cinematic silk—and while Out of the Past’s Jane Greer is maybe the uber-femme-fatale, the sweaty, barely restrained eroticism in every scene between Robert Mitchum and Kirk Douglas is what you’ll remember most when it’s over. (Out of the Past Mon Sept 2, Hollywood Theatre; Ride the Pink Horse Mon Sept 9, Hollywood Theatre) BOBBY ROBERTS

Wu-Tang: An American Saga
Wu-Tang: An American Saga—which includes Method Man and RZA on its list of executive producers—tells the momentous story of a group of young Black men grappling with their decisions to either pursue an unlikely music career or continue their lucrative-albeit-dangerous adventures in crime. Set in Staten Island at the height of the crack epidemic, the series emphasizes that, despite millennials’ obsessive, nostalgic pining for the music and aesthetics of the ’90s (guilty!), this was a rough time to be a young adult, especially if you happened to be Black or living in an underserved community. Don’t expect any cool graphics to pop up and introduce each character, as was done in Straight Outta Compton—in Wu-Tang, you’re largely left on your own to figure all that out. But in 10 episodes, even a casual viewer can come away with a greater understanding of the intense familial, social, and drug-dealing dynamics that were at play right before Wu-Tang became one of the most influential hip-hop acts of all time. (Streams Wed Sept 4, Hulu) JENNI MOORE

With honor and distinction, Erik Henriksen served as the executive editor of the Portland Mercury from 2004 to 2020. He can now be found at henriksenactual.com.