C.S.A.: The Confederate States of America
Kevin Willmott
6/6
A brief history of the Confederate States of America from the hypothetical future in which the south won the American civil war. Back in 2014 I stumbled upon this film and decided to watch Kevin’s entire body of work. And here I am, and it’s not even the next decade!
Our Willmott-bonanza finally continues in a cheesy fashion in this made for TV-drama that nonetheless continues to tickle the particular fancy I seem to have for the good sir Kevin.
Something wonderful has happened in the realm of cinema since Hitch’s last outing. Or in the realm of digital transfer. Or both. In any case, this film looks about a million times better than the earlier ones.
Things have taken a turn content-wise as well. This feels much more like the later Hitchcock we all know and love. I’m almost allowing myself to hope we’re done with musicals and theater-adaptations.
I know I was supposed to binge watch all of Kevin Willmott’s movies, but I’d forgotten to buy #2.
*doh*
And then I got sick. So now I’m on the couch with this new old laptop with some Linux on it, meaning I had to get tearing free video to work.
*doh*
But I’m happy to report that getting tearing free video is much easier now than it was the last time I tried when it was impossible. Anyway, I have this bootleg in high quality version (in a sense) that I don’t know where I got. Luckily, it’s on the Youtube. It really is quite peak prog, even if it’s kinda fake—the audio is apparently sourced from a number of different recordings, from more than one night. No bother though—Armageddon in Nine Eighths still melts my brain.
Eastwood does an OK job of steering clear of the usual tripe you’ll find in most “serious” Hollywood-movies in his telling of the battle of Iwo-Jima for most of the film. However, he sadly choses to deal mostly with the ethics of the US war bond drive following our protagonists’ return home, offering very little new insight or emotional interest. That is until the ending, which is your typical voice-overed nationalist sentimental vomit we all expected in the first place. All in all an unforgiving use of a whopping 140 minutes. The flip side better be good to make up.