Pretty boy Lonnie gets what he wants. And he wants to be out of where he came from, and he wants to be wanted and rich. And he's got the looks and the voice and the ego. So he gets it, the getting out and the love and the money. And then some. And then some. And then.

“It's not my fault that opportunity came my way.”

– Lonnie

Rat Fink is not your pop-idol-turned-movie-star vehicle. Something's off, no good vibrations here. It's dark – not in the least thanks to cinematographer Vilmos “The Deer Hunter” Zsigmond's doings – and gritty – real-world pop singer Schuyler Hayden doesn't hold back in his portrayal of egomaniacal pretty boy Lonnie.

 

If it hadn't been lost for half a century you may be fooled to believe that it spawned a certain, fictional 80s investment banker.

Expecting an uneventful night at the Seattle Crisis Clinic, volunteering psychology student Alan Newell is left to his own devices. Alan takes his books to study, it is quiet after all. Then a call, a woman. We learn she's called Inga (Anne Bancroft). She's drowsy. She has taken barbiturates and wants to talk while slipping away. While Alan fights to keep the woman on the line, attempts are made to trace the call.

“Do you think that not getting caught in a lie is the same as telling the truth?”

– Mark Dyson

The Slender Thread is an excellent example of picturing the invisible. The two leads never meet, both bound to their setting. The call tracing scene, a very technical affair, bears echos of Soviet Montage. The warm #jazz soundtrack by Seattle's own Quincy Jones tones down the mechanics, making the human aspect even more harrowing, almost physical.

A goodnight #kiss on the lips was all it takes for 14-year old Manuela to fall for her teacher, Fräulein Von Bernburg. Then, while celebrating her rousing performance as the male lead in the play Don Carlos, Manuela gaily blurts out that yes, she indeed is in love with her teacher! This lack of discipline can't go unpunished, with devastating results.

“What you call sin, I call the great spirit of love, which takes a thousand forms.”

– Fräulein Von Bernburg

Mädchen in Uniform with its all-female cast was, no… is!, a daring sapphic romantic drama based on a wildly popular play by Christa Winsloe. After multiple well attended screenings the film got banned in Germany because of its anti-authoritarian undertones, and almost banned in the US because of its lesbianism. Thankfully one of the picture's admirers – Eleanor Roosevelt – stepped in, resulting in a limited release.

In a strange other #England – in the village of Chillingbourne to be precise – a train pulls into the station. On board are several people on their way to #Canterbury.

“You're not dreaming.”

– Thomas Colpeper, JP

When Alison disembarks, believing she arrived at the pilgrim's town, a stranger pours #glue in her hair. She's the eleventh, the policeman said. It's the glue man, the townsfolk know. Like the pilgrims of #Chaucer's poem, Alison and her fellow stranded travellers journey towards the closure of this mystifying case.

At a poolside #CocktailParty, the swimmer appears. He notes that the houses in between his hosts' and his are connected by a “river” of #pools and decides to swim home, from one pool to the other, superficially meeting people, crashing suburban pool parties, in an increasingly irrational state.

“And the water up there. Remember? That transparent, light green water. It felt different. God, what a beautiful feeling. We could've swum around the world in those days.”

– Ned Merrill

The opera world is in mourning. Edmea Tetua, the greatest singer of all time, has passed away. On a grande ocean liner, her friends, colleagues, admirers have come together to scatter Edmea's ashes near Erimo, the island where she was born.

“This is the funny thing abut sea voyages. After a few days, you feel as if you'd been sailing forever. You feel you've always known your fellow voyagers.”

During a tour of the ship, the passengers visit the boiler room where – urged on by the engine room crew – an impromptu operatic competition unfolds, all to the pulsating rhythm of the steamliner's bloated belly.

Simón is a stylite in the Syrian #desert on top of a pillar, close to God, #praying. People gather and pray to him, Simón. Simón prays for the people, the animals, himself.

“Come down off that column. Taste earthly pleasures till you've had your fill. Till the very word pleasure fills you with nausea.”

– The Devil

As with anyone who believes in the concept of #sin, or desires to be free of sin, sin comes to Simón.

Last Chants for a Slow Dance is shocking in its simplicity. Tom (Tom Blair) is out there looking for work. Out of the way of his wife and into the heart of Montana. On a slow moving road trip, as scorching and dragging like hot tar, we accompany him and some of the vapid interactions with others out there. The heat, pursuit of sex, and inter-human exchanges are endless.

 

Things do break.

In this #supernatural Filipino melodrama, it being a Filipino melodrama, the town's muse tragically drowns, taking her newborn child with her. The orphaned baby floats down the river then is picked up by an older, childless couple who gladly raise her as their own. The child has a strange attachment to the #Pasig river where at night, a mysterious spellbinding voice sings the #kundiman [traditional love song] Mutya ng Pasig.

 

While Mutya ng Pasig is a lovely, somewhat predictable mystery by Richard Abelardo, it's well worth your time on a slowly meandering, hot summer night.