New Fiction Available Now

Hey there, groovy people! The reason I’ve been remiss in posting new reviews lately is that I’ve been busy with a number of outside projects. My seven-minute drama short Someone Else is playing the festival circuit, building on its premiere earlier this month at LA Shorts International Film Festival. Coming up are more screenings in LA, exhibition in Oregon, and the film’s UK premiere. I’m also wrapping up second editions of my first two books on film, both originally published 20+ years ago. A heavily expanded version of The Cinema of Generation X will publish next year, but before that, my completely revised and rewritten Dalton Trumbo, Hollywood Rebel will publish in a few weeks. I’ll post about that project again once it’s available because I’m so proud of the work that resulted from a year of deep archival research. (For information on my various activities, visit my site: www.GrandRiverFilms.com.) Today’s news is that I’ve got another new book, specifically a novelette (approximately 10,000 words), which was published as an ebook this week. This is my first serious venture into prose fiction in years, and I hope you’ll find it both entertaining and provocative. The novelette is called Funny, and it offers an oblique perspective on the dangers facing free speech in today’s political landscape. It’s available now as an ebook via Apple Books, Barnes & Noble, and Smashwords. Please consider reading, reviewing, and spreading the word. Click here to access the ebook's page on Smashwords. I'll be back soon with more ’70s goodness, but for now, thanks for supporting my other endeavors, and, as always, keep on keepin’ on!

The Black Pearl (1977)

          Adapted from a Newbury Award-winning 1967 children’s novel by Scott O’Dell, American-Spanish coproduction The Black Pearl offers an unusual combination of elements—it’s a coming-of-age story, a pastoral about life in a Baja California fishing village in preindustrial times, and, sporadically, a fanciful creature feature that borrows from Jaws (1975). Unsurprisingly, this wild blend doesn’t work, but The Black Pearl is compelling in a pulpy sort of way, and the morality tale at the heart of the piece comes across despite some janky plotting (the filmmakers took liberties with the source material, so don’t blame O’Dell). Greatly benefiting the picture is colorful location and underwater photography, extensive use of real animals onscreen, and a pungent soundtrack pairing eerie sound effects with an eclectic score that ranges from orchestral cues to disco-inflected grooves. As a result, even when the movie wobbles narratively and thematically, The Black Pearl is usually quite lively.

          Sixteen-year-old Ramon (Mario Custodio) dreams of diving for pearls like some of the grown men in his village, though his father, middle-class merchant Blas (Carlos Estrada), initially discourages his son’s ambitions. Then Ramon persuades veteran diver Soto (Gilbert Roland) to train him, so Blas relents and Ramon travels to Soto’s seaside village, where the older man trains his apprentice in breath control, patience, and the use of equipment. Adding a supernatural overlay to the story, Soto warns Ramon against visiting a particular cove that’s purported to be the lair of a gigantic manta ray. This being a parable about youthful hubris, naturally Ramon explores the cove and discovers a massive black pearl, triggering awful consequences. The narrative’s weakest element is the integration of the Moor (Carl Anderson), a mystery man who lives in Ramon’s village and causes trouble with his drinking and fighting; although he becomes central during the film’s climax, he presence seems arbitrary until that point, probably because the Moor is a heavily reconfigured version of the source novel’s antagonist.

          On the plus side, a few scenes in The Black Pearl are genuinely arresting—best of all is the lengthy sequence of Ramon exploring the cove, during which director Saul Swimmer (yes, that’s really his name!) intercuts Ramon’s treasure hunting with real footage of sea creatures menacing each other, for example a gang of crabs mauling an unlucky fish. The music and sound effects are enjoyably over the top here. Scenes featuring the giant ray (viewers get a glimpse right at the beginning of the picture) reveal severe budget limitations, though Swimmer wisely keeps manta shots to a minimum, giving them as much impact as possible. As for the actors, Roland’s elegant persona enlivens otherwise formulaic mentorship beats, and Custodio’s earnestness helps sell his character’s evolution from ambition to recklessness to regret. Alas, the script doesn’t do Anderson any favors, though it’s a trip to see Judas from Jesus Christ Superstar (1973) have a close encounter with tarantulas—which is just as much of a non sequitur as it sounds.

The Black Pearl: FUNKY