“Say, mister. Will you stake a fellow American to a meal?”

– Dobbs

Cheated out of their wages, broke Americans #Bogart and Holt are approached by a former prospector. There's #gold in the #SierraMadre mountains, he tells them.

“I know what gold does to men's souls.”

– Howard

Seemingly character driven, Huston's The Treasure of the Sierra Madre is an adventure moved by a relentless #landscape, the urge to drift, and #greed.

“Europe, a Stutz Bearcat, the best restaurants. You fellas really have a hard life, don't you?”

– Harold Horn, DA

Posted while deciding on my film dinner. Eventually I went with Tourneur's La Main du Diable (1943).

“I don't care about your barley. Or, your vines! Or, your new terra!”

– Karen

Karen – “Karin” in the opening credits – is a displaced Lithuanian woman in an Italy-based refugee camp. She meets an Italian military man bivouacking on the other side of the barbed wire and decides to say yes when he proposes. When the newly-weds leave for home, she finds to her dismay that he's a poor Sicilian fisherman from #Stromboli; a magnificent active volcanic island home to a small Catholic parish. Again displaced, Karen is confronted with herself more than with the others that share her faith.

“Here we are, poor wretches, in this hell, Condemned to tyranny.”

– Antonio

Roberto #Rossellini's Stromboli (Terra di Dio) is a peculiar melodramatic Italian/American hybrid that seems to strongly dismiss the Italian aspect. The significance of Struògnuli – the Sicilian name for the volcano – and the people's faith connected to the volatile mountain and the surrounding sea is presented as primitive superstition. That the Sicilian dialogue – song, prayer, life – remains untranslated and the locals' broken English is used as comic relief adds insult to injury.

 

Otello Martelli's photography excels when he manages to tear himself away from Bergman's face. Only when we're confronted with the magnificence of Struògnuli, the gifts from the ocean, and the greatness of nature we'll be able to understand why the island is man's home.

A nuclear family of three goes out on a #camping-slash-fishing-trip on a remote Mexican beach. On arrival, son Bobby (Lee Aaker) causes trouble by climbing a rickety old jetty, which then collapses after dad Doug (Barry Sullivan) frees the boy's stuck foot. Now with Doug stuck and the tide rolling in, Helen (Barbara Stanwyck) is on her own and needs to find a rope. And help…

– Aw, mom. You always talk about civilization.

– Don't knock it, son.

John Sturges' Jeopardy is a thrilling reverse home invasion based on Maurice Zimm's radioplay A Question of Time. Without falling into the trap of an illustrated radio broadcast, the haunting photography by Victor Milner, small, intense cast, short runtime and claustrophobic sets make for a very modern, economic thriller.

 

And Barbara Stanwyck the type of heroine we wouldn't see much of until decades later.

“Today over lunch I tried to improve morale and build a sense of camaraderie among the men by holding a humorous, round-robin discussion of the early days of the mission. My overtures were brutally rejected. These men do not want a happy ship. They are deeply sick and try to compensate by making me feel miserable.”

– Sgt. Pinback's video diary

The groove is driving and the characters jammin' in J. Terrance Mitchell's Get Rollin' (1980). We follow entrepreneur Vinzerrelli (Vinnie Vinzerrelli) who aims to become “the Muhammad Ali of #RollerBoogie” and to enter the Guinness Book of World Records as the first roller skater to make a million dollars. In his tow, smooth-as-silk Pat the Cat (Pat Richardson), who calls it a day to become a star roller derby player in “London, England”. Pat's wife and suddenly-ex-boss are less charmed by the idea. Those skates are expensive, and steam-cleaning those customised tees cost a dime, too. But Pat, he's determined. He's the Cowboy on Skates, rollin' his and everyone's blues away.

“It's spontaneous combustion!”

– Vinzerrelli

And in her own quiet way, there's soft-spoken physical therapist Inez from Alabama, who can be seen swerving around like a Disco Queen if not teaching a mangled man in Central Park how to rollerskate with flair and self-esteem.

 

A movie awash with so much groove and good vibes, so much love for Black life on #Brooklyn's Empire Roller Disco rink, it can not do other than put a huge grin on your face.

“Welcome home, Ethan.”

On the other end of outer space, far far away from existentialist odysseys and crypto-fascist space operas, there's a little stoner cosmos where a small, dilapidated starship manned by long-haired freaks drifts about.

“You know, I wish I had my board with me… even if I could just wax it once in a while.”

– Lt. Doolittle

Dark Star started out as a highly ambitious, underfunded student film that, in a blessed pre-Lucas, pre-blockbuster universe, got recognised for its #counterculture glory. In the early 70s, when #surfing was not yet mainstream and a handful of restless pioneers continued west despite the lack of mainland, a cross-pollination between beach blond daredevils and stoner culture happened.

 

Carpenter's laidback space odyssey fully embraces the beach bum spirit; it's meandering, incoherent, and whatever the superlative of no-budget may be. With at its core: #boredom, the most honest form of cinema.