John Hillcoat's deeply unpleasant debut is based on In the Belly of the Beast (1981), a collection of excerpts of letters between prisoner Jack Henry Abbott and author Norman Mailer. True to the book's format, Ghosts consists of disjointed vignettes of monologues, #CCTV footage, title cards, and prisoners' phone calls.

 

For the last 37 months, these filters inform the observer, the hypermodern #supermax Central Industrial Prison has been in permanent lockdown. The cast, a mix of professional actors and ex-cons, and the location, a clean factory-style hangar in the middle of the Australian desert, underscore the underlying raw brutality of the unfolding events.

 

“Officer, come here. I wanna spit in your fucking eye!”

– Maynard

The #industrial soundtrack is by Bad Seed Nick Cave (co-writer and starring as Maynard), Mick Harvey, and Blixa Bargeld from when they were still closer to being birthday boys than morose crooners.

Hitman Jef Costello (Alain Delon) coolly drives a #Citroën DS 21 to his garagiste (André Salgues), who routinely switches the license plates in a beautifully wordless, efficiently lit scene.

“I never lose. Never really.”

“It sounded interesting, at least while I kept out of the rain. But if it's a sermon, I'd sooner listen to the rain.”

– commoner

Good-for-nothing Willi (Charly Wierzejewski) is in trouble. After yet another run-in with the law, and yet again meeting the wrong people at the wrong time, he falls in love with a destitute street worker (Eva Mattes). Now he really needs #money so he can support himself, her, and her kid. He tries his hand at renting himself out to a rich homosexual (homosexuality was illegal in 1970s W Germany), then moves forward to robbing the money transporter of a local supermarket with his pimp buddy. But as usual, Willi is in trouble.

 

Shot on location in #Hamburg's red-light district St. Pauli, Supermarkt is gritty, unpleasant and has an authenticity rarely seen in other films of this genre.

Kirlian photography claims that plants can communicate telepathically. Rilla (Nancy Snyder) delves deep into the science so to interrogate the only witness to her plant-loving sister Laurie's murder, a ficus.

 

Not to be confused with the inferior alternative cut The Plants are Watching.

Warren Beatty plays Mickey, a #StandUpComedian who has it all, then gambles it all away. Well, that's the first 5 minutes of Arthur Penn's Mickey One. Beatty is out of his element, and the movie's still too indebted to the cheery 60s to carry that New American Cinema grit.

“I'm the king of the silent pictures. I'm hiding out till talkies blow over.”

– Mickey One

Having said that, there are several great small surreal moments that are carried by uncredited character actors alone. And then there's a sole spotlight, stealing it all away.

Sunrise was bestowed the award for “Best Unique and Artistic Picture” on that first Oscar night. The first and last time that ever happened; in 1930, the price was scrapped and replaced by “Outstanding Picture” aka “Best Picture”. And that one went to the much more American-patriotic Wings (1927).

 

Also rightfully awarded in '29 were Janet Gaynor (Best Actress in a Leading Role), Charles Rosher and Karl Struss (Best #Cinematography), while Rochus Gliese was nominated for Best #ArtDirection.

“This song of the Man and his Wife is of no place and every place; you might hear it anywhere, at any time.”

– opening title card

Sunrise is a fantastic tour de force, and it winning that award should make you feel hopeful for the future of cinema. Instead, the current list of nominees and winners is, at least to me, a checklist of what to avoid for ever.

A mucky, nihilistic #punk adaptation of the Billy the Kid saga foreshadowing Alex Cox's Straight to Hell by 15 years.

– All right, Billy. All right. You still haven't answered my question. What do you want to do?

– Nothin'.