every movie ever made, in alphabetical order
(we’re in the I’s, with random anti-alphabetical cheats)

The Immoral Mr Teas (1959)

“Mr Teas” goes about his day, always noticing pretty women, all of whom wear cleavage-revealing tops and bend over a lot. Mr Teas gets coffee from a buxom waitress in a coffee shop, ogles dames at the beach, gets dental work from a near-naked hygienist, goes fishing in a lake where several ladies are boating in bikinis, etc. There’s no dialogue, only occasional narration that tries and fails to be funny.

This is an early work from noted smut-meister Russ Meyer, adult entertainment from when genuine porn was illegal, so it’s more titillation that tits. It’s all tease until about half an hour in, when we finally start seeing nipples among all the cleavage. It’s not immoral unless you think a man noticing women is immoral, but Mr Teas does seem unduly intrigued by a little girl playing with her hula hoop.

The movie’s barely an hour long and only mildly sexy, but hey, there be boobies here, and as a heterosexual man, I can’t give boobies a bad review.

Verdict: MAYBE.

♦ ♦ ♦

Imperium (2016)

Daniel Radcliffe makes interesting career choices — Guns Akimbo, Horns, Swiss Army Man — and here’s another. He’s playing a nerdy young FBI agent with a heart of gold, assigned by his boss (Toni Collette) to go undercover and infiltrate white supremacists. Collette is terrific, and Radcliffe is Radcliffe, which has become a synonym for terrific.

The movie gives voice to the fascists’ fears and hate, so Imperium is probably a top-10 streaming favorite of the Proud Boys. There’s an attempt to counterbalance that with some of the agents’ dialogue, and an especially effective closing scene that makes a case for coexistence.

There’s not much here that you haven’t seen in other films of this genre — it glorifies police work, and pretends homegrown white terrorists are a priority for the FBI, instead of most cops’ brother-in-law and/or after-hours hobby. But it’s always interesting, often thrilling.

Verdict: YES.

♦ ♦ ♦

Improvisation (1950)

Here’s plenty of jazz, without opening or closing credits, which makes me wonder whether this 15-minute film is someone’s home movie. Midway through the music, a brief voiceover tells us we’re watching and listening to a jam session with Coleman Hawkins, Charlie Parker, Ray Brown, Hank Jones, Buddy Rich, Harry Edison, Bill Harris, Flip Phillips, Lester Young, and Ella Fitzgerald.

I’ve heard of about half these performers, and they’re making swell sounds here. You can almost feel the sting of nightclub smoke in your eyes. Scotch and water for me, please.

Verdict: YES.

♦ ♦ ♦

In Broad Daylight (1971)

Larry Cohen was a screenwriter and moviemaker who had odd ideas. Sometimes the ideas paid off splendidly, like “giant flying reptile lives in a skyscraper” (Q: The Winged Serpent) or “company sells living snack food” (The Stuff) or “the policeman is not your friend” (Maniac Cop). But sometimes, like “blind guy makes trouble” in this flick, his ideas weren’t so brilliant.

Richard Boone plays a movie star who’s recently gone blind, and goes gallivanting around town without dog or cane, pretending he can see. He’s such a good actor [sic] that people believe he can see, but he’s actually up to no good.

The movie is also no good, but in a different way. It’s made-for-TV and directed by someone who’s not Larry Cohen, so it comes off cheap and silly.

Verdict: NO.

♦ ♦ ♦

Adolescence (2024)

Cops raid a house where a seemingly-ordinary family lives, and arrest their seemingly-ordinary 13-year-old son. They charge him with murder. He says he didn’t do anything, and says it convincingly.

That’s the opening of this 4-part Netflix show, a police procedural about the murder of a schoolgirl. It’s filmed with very, very long takes, one camera following actors through the house, then into a cop car and to the police station, then upstairs, down a hallway, all seemingly with no cuts (although with modern tech, really who knows?). When the coppers’ investigation takes them to a middle school, we’re shown detectives walking seamlessly into and out of classrooms, onto the playfield, even across the street.

“No cuts” is the motif of the whole series, which heightens the drama, makes everything seem to happen in real time, and leaves you feeling almost as captured as the kid. Watching a movie or show, you expect cuts and fade-outs and scene changes as part of the deal; take those elements away, and it’s less like a show and more like frickin’ life.

In addition to the intricate staging, everything else is major league, too — the writing, performances, direction, etc. Netflix makes a lot of crap, but this ain’t crap. Stupidly, I started the first episode at 11PM, and couldn’t switch it off, so it cost me a good night’s sleep.

The show’s called Adolescence, not “One Murder Case,” because the filmmakers posit that incel thinking is ruining adolescence for lots of boys, filling their heads with misogyny and online radicalization.

I’m skeptical — adolescence has always been ruined, and teenage boys need no particular nudge to be cruel bastards. Incelmania, I’d say, is just another problem that’s real, but being overhyped.

If I’m wrong then we’re doomed, but we’re doomed either way.

As for the show, verdict: BIG YES.

9/4/2025

Logo illustration by Jeff Meyer. No talking once the lights dim, and only real butter on the popcorn, not that fake yellow stuff.

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