As is the case with its titular namesake--aka the li'l reincarnated medicine man who pops out of Susan Strasberg's back--the insane power of The Manitou only increases over the years. Like if you see The Manitou and then ten years later you find yourself (as always) thinking about The Manitou, you might think about that li'l dude, or maybe about the blizzard inside the hospital, or maybe about Susan Strasberg on a hospital bed floating in space, shooting lasers at a giant eyeball. "Wow," you think. "The Manitou is fucking nuts!"
You're right, of course. It is fucking nuts. But it's also the cinematic embodiment of "But wait! There's more!" and so when you watch it again--which you will, because once you start thinking about it, well, how could you not?--it's somehow even crazier than you remembered. It's like an Outback Steakhouse Bloomin Onion of insanity, where it seems like no matter how much bloomin' onion you pull off there's more bloomin' onion underneath.
I think that's how those things work? I don't know, I've never had one. But I can conceptualize maybe accurately!
Anyway. As you may have gathered, there's a shitton about that movie that I sure love. But one queen rules stands floats above all else...
MRS. HERZ IN THE MANITOU (1978)
Even if you only saw her brief scene, you would still come away from the experience thinking that The Manitou is completely insane and completely perfect. In the span of about 80 seconds, she shows up at Tony Curtis's apartment for a tarot reading, complains, starts chanting, floats down a hallway, throws herself down the stairs, and dies. We should all be so lucky to spend our last 80 seconds of life that way. Just look at her go! Dare to dream.
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