A long time ago in our own galaxy, independent movie theaters prided themselves on creating unique promotional stunts, as evidenced from these photos from a March 1968 issue of Boxoffice magazine. In the parlance of the era, theater owners were "taking it to the streets" in order to drum up awareness of their latest showings. Sometimes models were employed and on other occasions, hapless theater employees were subjected to participating in rather bizarre and comical publicity stunts. These two photos show a model on the streets passing out leaflets to seemingly unimpressed passersby for the Joan Crawford thriller "Berserk!" and a mannequin dressed as Clint Eastwood's Man with No Name for "The Good, the Bad and the Ugly." Those were the days!
Alice, a fragile Italian interpreter
(Florinda Bolkan) is haunted by the recurring nightmare of an astronaut left to
die on the moon at the behest of an evil scientist back on Earth (Klaus Kinski).
Following a particularly traumatic day translating at a conference she returns
to work to discover that she was in fact missing for three days and has no
memory of what she has done or where she has been. Finding a clue in her
apartment - a discarded postcard from the North African, Moroccan-style island
of Garma – Alice immediately heads there. On arrival she discovers a young girl
(played by prolific Italian child actress Nicoletta Elmi) who claims to already
know her as a red-headed guest at the hotel named Nicole. As she begins to
explore the island looking for clues of those missing days and her alternate
identity, things become increasingly strange and unsettling.
Written and directed by Luigi Bazzoni, the
man responsible for the equally enigmatic and enthralling films The
Possessed (1965) and The Fifth Cord (1971), Footprints on the
Moon (or just ‘Footprints’ in Italy – Le orme) is a dreamlike
mystery with elements of the gothic, science fiction and the giallo. This is an
Italian film unlike any other, with a mesmerising performance from Bolkan as
the distressed, confused yet brave woman at the heart of the story.
Oscar-winning cinematographer Vittorio Storaro (Apocalypse Now and many
other equally important films) creates a stunning and strange world around Alice/
Nicole, from the black and white, scratchy moon footage to the haunting out-of-season
landscapes and minarets of the non-existent Garma (the film was actually shot
in Turkey). Although the use of dreams to reflect a character’s mental state is
nothing new, Footprints uses this template very effectively to present a
unique mystery with a central character with whom we can all empathise. It is
also tempting to draw connections with the missing days of crime writer Agatha
Christie, herself a major influence on the giallo film in the 1960s and 1970s
(there are so many films based on Ten Little Indians (1939) alone that
it’s impossible to count). Translations of Christie’s work are best-sellers to
this day in Italy thanks to their constant reproduction as part of the ‘Il
Giallo Mondadori’ series of books with their bright yellow covers (yellow =
giallo), available on every newsstand in the country.
This new Blu-ray from Shameless, utilising a
recent 4K scan from the original negative, presents three versions of Footprints
on the Moon in both English and Italian. It also comes with a good
collection of bonus material including an insightful introduction from the star
herself, an essential interview with Vittorio Storaro (now in his mid-eighties
but still as busy as ever, working on new films every year), and an interview
with co-star Ida Galli, aka Evelyn Stewart, who has appeared in almost every
great Italian genre film you can think of (as well as recognised classics such
as The Leopard (1963) and La Dolce Vita (1960)). Finally, the
film is accompanied by a new, well-researched audio commentary from critic and
Italian genre authority Rachael Nisbet. Her expertise, combined with her
Scottish accent, make this track an essential part of the disc, and some listeners
will no doubt long for the return of her now defunct giallo podcast Fragments
of Fear.
Footprints on the Moon
is a very different experience from your usual Italian genre film of the
mid-1970s, with less emphasis on gloved killers, graphic violence and copious
nudity, preferring instead to create an atmospheric mystery with no easy
answers and a compelling central character. This release is highly recommended.
Cinema Retro has received the following press release from Film Masters.
ROCKPORT, Mass. — May 17, 2024 — For Immediate Release —
Film Masters, a leading vintage film restoration and distribution company, is
excited to announce a theatrical partnership with the American Genre Film
Archive (AGFA), the largest non-profit genre film archive and distributor in
the world.
Working to bring new life to forgotten classic titles
that have laid dormant for decades, Film Masters has released a notable and
well-received slate of pristine prints during its inaugural year—primarily
sourced from 35mm 4K scans that have been painstakingly restored for special
collector’s editions on Blu-ray and DVD, as well as for streaming and
broadcast—with original special features produced by a consortium of
contributors. In recognition of its work, Film Masters has been nominated for
several awards, including five Rondon Hatton categories and The Shelf Shock
Rewind Awards for “Best New Label.”
AGFA will distribute Film Masters’ newly restored classic
library theatrically. This is AGFA’s latest collaboration following
distribution partnerships with Arrow Films (Donnie Darko), Multicom (Freeway),
Severin Films (Santa Sangre), Shout! Factory (Black Christmas) and Something
Weird (Zodiac Killer).
Film Masters’ movies are available on DCP for theatrical
bookings from AGFA starting immediately. Newly restored titles to be
distributed by AGFA include early efforts from the late Roger Corman’s
Filmgroup, including Creature From the Haunted Sea (1961), in which Corman
recently contributed to the commentary by Tom Weaver for the recent home video
release by Film Masters. More Roger Corman titles available for booking from
Film Masters include: Beast From Haunted Cave (1959), Ski Troop Attack (1960),
Little Shop of Horrors (1960), The Devil's Partner (1961) and The Terror
(1963).
Other available theatrical bookings include: Battle of
the Worlds (1961), Common Law Wife (1963), Crippled Masters (1979), Door to
Door Maniac (1961), Right Hand of the Devil (1963), Redneck Miller (1976), The
Scarlet Letter (1934), The Swiss Conspiracy (1976), and Tormented (1960).
Additional titles from the Film Masters catalog will be announced later this
year.
(Boris Karloff in "The Terror". Photo: Film Masters.)
Said Philip Hopkins, president of Film Masters, “AGFA’S
commitment to the presentation and preservation of genre film has greatly
enhanced the exposure for these important releases that the mainstream has
mostly ignored. We’re delighted to be included in their impressive portfolio of
studio partners and thrilled that our own preservation and restoration efforts
will now have the opportunity to be seen on the big screen again as originally
intended.”
Commented Jackson Cooper, executive director, AGFA, “AGFA
is proud to be partnering with Film Masters on this endeavor to present and
promote this library of classic genre films. The Film Masters team is a
dedicated, passionate group that understands the power of genre film and the
importance of experiencing these films in their restored, theatrical glory. We
are thrilled about this partnership and look forward to using the power of
moviegoing experiences to introduce new generations of film lovers to this important
collection.”
Interested parties can book Film Master’s films
theatrically by contacting bret.berg@americangenrefilm.com at AGFA.
(Roger Corman. Photo: Film Masters.)
About American Genre Film Archive:
Formed in 2009, the American Genre Film Archive (AGFA) is
a 501(c)(3) non-profit located in Austin, Texas. AGFA exists to preserve the
legacy of genre movies through collection, conservation and distribution.
Housing theatrical and home video distribution arms, a 4K film scanner and over
6,000 film prints, AGFA will never rest until genre movies rule the
world. Visit us online at: https://www.AmericanGenreFilm.com
About Film Masters:
Film Masters is a consortium of historians and
enthusiasts who seek to celebrate the preservation and restoration of films. We
are archivists, committed to storing film elements for future generations
and reviving films that have been sitting dormant for decades. By scanning in
2K and 4K, we give these lesser-known films the red-carpet treatment they
deserve. Leveraging modern means of distribution to release forgotten films
back into the world, we also produce original bonus materials, including feature-length
documentaries, which aid audiences in contextualizing and celebrating these
works of art as they were meant to be. Visit us online at:
www.FilmMasters.com
The success of Mad magazine inspired many blatant imitators including Sick magazine. None of them could equal the originality and talent found in Mad, but they each had their individual merits. In this 1963 issue of Sick magazine, you'll find a four page spoof of "The Longest Day" beginning on page 32. (Use the arrow in the right column to scroll down page-by-page.)
John Ford has always been my favorite director. Winning a
record four Best Directing Oscars (a record yet to be beaten), his films continue
to influence movie fans and filmmakers. My introduction to John Ford happened when
my father, actor Larry J. Blake, took me to a roadshow matinee at the Pantages
Theatre in Hollywood to see Cheyenne Autumn. For a cowboy-crazy kid of
seven, the action between the cavalry and the Indians kept my attention, but it
was seeing Monument Valley for the first time that made the biggest impact on
me. I had never seen such a place. After that matinee, when my friends and I
played cowboys, every tree and bush in my neighborhood stood in for that
amazing landscape.
By the time I was eleven, this budding film historian had
managed to watch ten of Ford’s films on local television stations and John Ford
was my master class in film history.Of
course, it helped that my father, who had worked twice for Ford, would point
out to me how Ford would frame a scene, or, as dad called them, his “Fordian
touches” (i.e., humor, bits of business and the Irish sentimentality).
The mixing of John Ford and Monument Valley in the
cinematic universe was a magical combination. Director John Milus once said
that Ford had a romance with Monument Valley. He was right. While other
filmmakers have filmed in Monument Valley, they never quite captured the
beauty, mystique and grandeur of Ford’s work. He was an artist with a camera,
creating an impressive image in every shot. This is especially true in the
films he made in Monument Valley, from the lone stagecoach making its way past
the buttes, to Henry Fonda bidding goodbye to Clementine as he rides down a
lonely stretch of road, to the cavalry making their way during a
thunderstorm.
In any of the films Ford shot in Monument Valley, the
land became as much a character as any of the actors. In The Searchers
(1956), the land presents the American West as an expansive and isolated
country where only strong, resilient people could survive, be they white
settlers or Indians. The towering buttes dwarf the human characters, not only
creating an unforgettable backdrop, but also reinforcing the theme of the people
struggling to endure in an unforgiving land. Ford’s placement of John Wayne in
this immense landscape only further heightens the character’s isolation and his
being forced to “wander between the winds.”
She Wore a Yellow Ribbon (1949)
marked Ford’s first-time filming in his beloved valley in Technicolor. Before production
began, Ford studied the paintings of Frederic Remington (notably his cavalry
images) and Charles M. Russell. One can see Russell’s color palette reflected
in the film, notably in one scene featuring a line of Indians riding along a
ridge. It is a Russell painting come to life. Knowing every area of Monument
Valley so well, the director picked certain locations to photograph at various
times of the day to bring impressive images to the screen. A perfect example is
the sequence of Ben Johnson being chased by Indians.
Monument Valley continues to attract hundreds of tourists
from all over the world. For many of them, Monument Valley represents the
American West ? thanks to John Ford’s movies.
(Photo: Michael F. Blake)
Which brings me to my book, The Cavalry Trilogy: John
Ford, John Wayne and the Making of Three Classic Westerns. I have always
been a fan of these films (Fort Apache, She Wore a Yellow Ribbon and Rio
Grande), but was frustrated by the minimal coverage they received in any
Ford biography. Unfortunately, word count and page length are always a writer’s
greatest adversary.
Much like the cavalry coming to the rescue in his movies,
I chose to give Ford’s wonderful trilogy the proper attention they so richly
deserve. (Plus, it was a great excuse to make another visit to Monument
Valley!) Writing about John Ford in The Cavalry Trilogy not only allowed
me to shed light on these classic films, but also to uncover stories that
hadn’t been published before. Kind of made me feel a bit like Indiana Jones –
in Monument Valley.
(Michael F. Blake will be signing copies of the book at the John Wayne Birthplace festivities held in Winterset, Iowa on May 24-25 to commemorate Wayne's birthday.)
In early July of 1952, a 65-year old Boris Karloff returned
to England for a four-month long stay.He and his wife, Evelyn “Evie” Hope, had arrived from America via
transatlantic liner.The ship would dock
at the quay in Plymouth, some two-hundred and forty miles south of London.The actor, who by his own calculation had
been away from England for some sixteen years, was met at the port by a
journalist from London’s Daily Mirror.Karloff would describe his touching down again
in his native homeland, as the “Return of the Ghost.”
The Mirror writer
made immediate comment on the unusual “grey, military moustache” Karloff was
sporting.“This is for some TV pictures
I hope to make for the American market while I’m in England,” the actor
explained.“I expect to play the role of
Colonel March, special investigator.”When asked if his role was the usual “sinister” one” for which he was
accustomed, Karloff shrugged.“Oh,
no.I shall be tackling many odd
assignments in a rather light-hearted manner.In fact, the role might be a little too benign.”
American author John Dickson Carr (as “Carter Dickson”)
was the creator of the irascible, but brilliant investigating Scotland Yard detective
Colonel March.Dickson’s character first
appeared in a series of short stories published by London’s Strand magazine 1938-1940.Dickson would pen nine Colonel March
mysteries in total, seven of them collected and published as The Department of Queer Complaints (Dell
Books, New York, 1940).The book’s odd
title is a reference to department “D.3.,” a branch of Scotland Yard’s
metropolitan police for which March works.
March is, for the most part, the only investigator of
“The Department of Queer Complaints.”He’s
assigned to those quirky cases appearing unsolvable: “locked room” mysteries
that have baffled the investigations of the mainstream detectives.While many of the mysteries he’s called to
solve appear occult or supernatural in appearance, March proves these enigmatic
challenges to be nothing more than smokescreens for more routine crimes.Having now sat through the better part of
this television series, I find the guilty parties can be readily identified
easily and early.The real mystery lies
in how the cerebrally deductive Colonel March manages to puzzle his way through
the criminal fog to bring the guilty to justice.
The rights to Dickson’s The Department of Queer Complaints were optioned by Hannah
Weinstein.Weinstein, an American
publicist and former journalist for the New
York Herald Tribune, was also a long-time left-wing activist.Choosing to leave behind the chilling
political climate of encroaching McCarthyism, Weinstein fled the U.S. for Paris
in 1950.Interested in getting involved
in the film industry, Weinstein would form Panda Films.It was in partnership with England’s Fountain
Films that the original trio of pilot episodes of Colonel March of the Scotland Yard were filmed at Nettleford
Studios, Walton-on-Thames, England.But Weinstein’s
ultimate intent was to launch Colonel
March as a television property in America.
It’s of interest that prior to Colonel March of the Scotland Yard playing on U.S. television, a
feature-length film, Colonel March
Investigates, would play theatrically in second run cinemas of the United
Kingdom from June through December 1953.In May of ’53 Variety reported
that Panda had “packaged two trios of half-hour pix into features for
theatrical release” - with the caveat the films could not play in the U.S. die
to a “telepix” deal already struck with Official Films in the U.S.In any event, only the Colonel March Investigates feature was released in Great Britain through
Criterion Films.More often than not, the
film was paired in cinemas with the aged Bob Hope horror-comedy The Cat and the Canary (Paramount,
1939).Perhaps of more import was the
fact that directorship of Colonel March
Investigates was credited to another American expatriate Cyril (“Cy”) Endfield.Blacklisted from the United States film
industry due to his own dabbles with leftist politics, Endfield moved to London
in 1952 to seek employment opportunities overseas.
This feature-length version of Colonel March Investigates, described contemporaneously by a
British critic as “a hotch-potch film,” was, in fact, just that: a stringing
together of Endfield’s three pilots (“Hot Money,” “Death in the Dressing Room”
and “The New Invisible Man”) portmanteau style.Endfield’s biographer, Brian Neve, suggests in his The Many Lives of Cyril Endfield: Film Noir, the Blacklist and Zulu,
that once the series was broadcast in the U.S., many of the on-screen credits
of the Colonel March television
series were tweaked.Neve suggests that
many of the scripts - credited to “Leslie Slote” or “Leo Davis” - were likely “front”
credits.In this estimation, Neve was entirely
correct.
The earliest original scenarios of Colonel March were written primarily by American writers living in
Europe due to the McCarthyism at home: the screenwriter Harold Buchman possibly composed scripts, with the writing
team of Walter Bernstein and Abraham Polonsky most definitely contributing.The latter two would use the nom de plume of “Leo Davis” (on Colonel March Investigates) and of “Leslie
Slote” on the subsequent television series.
In Bernstein’s recollection, it was Weinstein who asked
for his assistance in helpfully filling-out Dickson’s “thin” mystery stories.This would have been in April 1952.“She wanted to use blacklisted people to work
on it,” Bernstein confided in his memoir Inside
Out, “so Polonsky and I took on Colonel
March.”Bernstein recalled his
decision to collaborate with Polonsky as an entirely practical choice, “since
writing dramatic puzzles seemed easier for two than one.”
I’ve not read any of Carter Dickson’s original mysteries,
so I can’t determine if Bernstein and Polonsky significantly changed the tone
of the original stories, nor can I judge the subsequent adaptations better or
worse.I can say that the criminals introduced in the Colonel March TV series are rarely street-level thugs.There are a few toughs sprinkled here and
there, but mostly they’re engaged as pawns in the employ of gentile
professionals, respectable people who command power and prestige.Most of the crime-scenes in the series take
place in high society settings: swanky cabarets, university libraries, art
galleries, fashion shows, solicitor offices, private clubs and manor houses.Crimes of the suite, not of the street.
Weinstein’s employ of blacklisted writers and filmmakers would
in time, of course, prove problematic when attempting to sell the series to
U.S. distributors.When the original
three pilot episodes of Colonel March
Investigates were telecast in the U.S., Endfield’s credits are conveniently
scrubbed, replaced with the name of Donald Ginsberg: Ginsberg now attributed as
both producer and director.Of the Colonel’s twenty-six episodes,
eighteen are credited to British directors Bernard Knowles and Arthur Crabtree;
three to “Donald Ginsberg” (Endfield), three to Philip Brown (another
blacklisted American actor recently re-settled in England), one to Paul Dickson
(as “Paul Gherzo”) and even one to Terence Fisher, soon a celebrant of Hammer
Films mythology.
It’s unlikely that Karloff was unaware he was working alongside
a company of “radicals.”These were American
citizens holding distinguished resumes now tainted due to their associations
with WWII-era anti-fascist work.Karloff
was a mild political progressive in comparison.But he was also the biggest star among the original twenty-one actors who
incorporated the Screen Actors Guild in June of 1933.In the study Tender Comrades, contributing writer Glenn Lovell offered that
Karloff too, as a “very early SAG activist,” was considered suspicious for his
union-organizing work.The actor would
choose “to park blocks away from Guild meetings to avoid surveillance.” But
Karloff was simply a man of fair play and conscience.A former National Executive Secretary of the
Guild explained to Karloff biographer Cynthia Lindsay, “Boris was a
philosophical anarchist.Simply couldn’t
tolerate injustice.”
In August of 1953, Official Films of W. 45th
Street, New York City, staged a special screening of pilot episodes of the Colonel March series to prospective
regional U.S. television buyers.A
writer from Billboard attended,
perhaps puzzled of any distributor interest in the series.Detective and mystery programs were already
glutting the schedules and evening time-slots of network television.But the reporter was impressed with Colonel March, acknowledging the program
brimmed with “possibilities.” That same month, Official signed syndication deals
with some twenty eastern U.S. television markets.
The reporter mused that producers were bravely trying
something different, “striving after an off-beat quality that will set the show
apart from the many other mystery shows already on TV.”Though Billboard
thought the scripting was not up to scratch,” Karloff’s sparkling performance
as Colonel March managed to rise above the otherwise mediocre scenarios.The chief inspector of the “Department of
Queer Complaints” was, in the estimation of the trade, the “closest thing to
Sherlock Holmes to be found in a regular series.”
Seeing there was U.S. television interest in the series,
Panda farmed the production of all remaining episodes to Foundation Films.The company was tasked to hastily deliver all
remaining episodes by May of 1954.Shooting of the series was set to re-commence on October 26, 1953.The monochrome series was a low-budget affair
to be sure, but the episodes were generally well-written and performed.
By November of 1953, the producers already managed to
collect some $75,000 into their coffers for television syndication rights
privileges.Sales of Colonel March of the Scotland Yard were handily
outpacing Official’s other television package offerings as the Robert Cumming’s
comedy My Hero and a television
version of the comic-strip adventure Terry
and the Pirates.Currently in the
works for Official were the adventure series Secret Files with Robert Alda and Arthur Dreyfus and Captain Gallant of the Foreign Legion
featuring Buster Crabbe. But Colonel March had become, for a brief time
anyway, the company’s standard bearer, a “fascinating, brand new half-hour film
series of scientific crime fiction.”
The series was different
from its counterparts.Karloff would muse
he was “pleased” with “the absence of brutality in the stories.”These were thinking-man mysteries, cases
solved through erudite deduction rather than fisticuffs. The promotional
material of Official Films would highlight how March’s method of crime solving
differed from that of the average gumshoe: “This
witty gentleman is equally at home with Shakespeare and shakedowns, Heifitz and
heisting.Don’t let his charm deceive
you.Though he carries no gun, throws no
punches, and kisses no blondes – he packs a wallop with his brain!”
By early December of ’53, Variety would report some forty U.S. television markets had already
pre-purchased the full package of twenty-six episodes – the majority of which still
had not yet been produced.These
included markets in eleven western states, Hawaii, and Alaska.Variety
opined that the Colonel March
“series shapes as a good buy for beer and drug sponsors.” There was an
acknowledgment this was adult entertainment, the program’s atmospheric
mysteries – demonstrating “socko video potential” – were likely “best fitted
for a late night slot.”
At least one suds manufacturer took their advice.Two weeks following Variety’s suggestion, the entire twenty-six episode series was sold
for sponsorship by Chicago’s Atlantic Brewing Company, the series’ biggest
urban market by far.The brewer was planning
on going all-in with their investment, desiring to “shoot integrated
commercials for Atlantic with Karloff starring.”The Colonel
March series was eventually broadly syndicated in sixty U.S. markets.
Though public and market interest for Colonel March of Scotland Yard would
gradually diminish following those earliest broadcasts in January of 1954, you
could still find the series playing somewhere
in America as late as 1959.The series
would vanish almost completely from TV screens by 1960.Their disappearance was, perhaps not
accidental: Karloff’s anthology series Thriller
would make its television debut on NBC-TV in September of 1960.
This is the first time to my knowledge that the entire
twenty-six episode of Colonel March of
Scotland Yard has been made available on home video in the U.S.Alpha Video previously published a total of
eight episodes of the series in two DVD sets as early as 2014.Other labels would include an episode or two
on their various Detective or Mystery budget sets of public domain material.The series might be of some tangential
interest to collectors due to some of the on-screen cameos and roles of folks
on the cusp of achieving greater fame: Christopher Lee, Peter Asher (of the
British pop-duo “Peter and Gordon”), composer Anthony Newley, John Schlesinger,
and Zena Marshall (“Miss Taro” of the Bond film Dr. No).
One might question Film Chest’s decision to put out the
set on DVD instead of Blu ray in 2024 as a curious one.The monochrome episodes look pretty good, all
things considered, but the visual images are noticeably soft and would have certainly
benefited from a loving high-def. treatment.Having said that, the set is eminently watchable, if not perfect… well,
to my aging eyes at least. But obsessed techie-collectors will not likely greet
this release with neither fanfare nor acclaim.For those of us more forgiving, it’s nice to have the series, at long
last, complete.
Finally, a word of caution: though this set includes an
eight-page booklet-episode guide, be wary of believing all that you read within.The booklet purportedly gives episode broadcast
dates, but they are all well off the mark,
at least as far as U.S. television debuts are concerned.Episode One is given a booklet broadcast date
as October 1, 1955, but in reality the first episode of Colonel March of Scotland Yard was broadcast in the U.S. as early
as January 27, 1954 on Pittsburgh’s WDTV. (In fairness, it could be that the dates given
by Film Chest (a U.S. company based in Connecticut) have been sourced from the
series’ belated 1955 appearance on Britain’s ITV television). A minor criticism, perhaps, but it’s the sort
of erroneous information that’s assumed as gospel and repeated ad infinitum on
internet sites.
The Film Chest Media Group, founded in 2000 or
thereabouts, promises their engagement “in
the acquisition, preservation, development, and distribution of film and
television media. With an extensive archive and a state-of-the-art facility, we
offer many essential services to the media and entertainment industry,
including climate-controlled film storage, film scanning and restoration,
content management and distribution, and so much more.”The company’s film library purportedly boasts
“thousands of titles” which is said to include films in the public domain as
well as “proprietary asset” titles.
The Film Chest catalog is diverse in its offerings:mostly DVD collections so far, but with a few
Blu-ray titles mixed in as well: in the latter category you’ll find such
pictures as The Red House (1947, with
Edward G. Robinson) and Suddenly (1954,
with Frank Sinatra).A good portion of
their releases are complete series collections of mostly forgotten (or dimly
recalled) television programs circa 1957-1961:Colonel March of the Scotland Yard,
of course, but also Decoy (1957), The Invisible Man (1958-1960), Deadline (1959-1961) and One Step Beyond (1959-1961).
Releases of more recent television series from Film Chest
runs the gamut from Stacy Keach’s Mike
Hammer series (1997-1998) to The Lost
World (1999-2002) and even to ABC-TV’s Lancelot
Link, Secret Chimp (1970).Film
Chest also offers generous DVD collections of public domain issues of Hollywood
musicals, film noirs, and detective mysteries.It’s well worth a look through their catalog offerings.
It’s encouraging that, in this era of streaming, such
niche interest films and aged television series are being made available for
collectors of physical media.It must be
said that Film Chest’s releases are also very
economically priced for the amount of content offered in their multi-disc
television sets.Fans of Boris Karloff
and 1950’s television mystery and detective series now have, for the first
time, the opportunity to pick up the entire series of Colonel March of Scotland Yard in one swoop.I know I’m certainly happy to showcase my
copy of the Colonel March set alongside such other Karloff television
collections as The Veil (1958) and Thriller (1960-1962).Recommended.
On Friday, May 17, Turner Classic Movies (North America) will run numerous 1960s spy movies back-to-back. Things kick off at 7:45 A.M. (EST) with the Man from U.N.C.L.E. feature film "One of Our Spies is Missing" starring Robert Vaughn and David McCallum, followed by "Where the Spies Are" (David Niven); "The Prize" (Paul Newman, Elke Sommer), "The Venetian Affair" (Robert Vaughn, Elke Sommer), the U.N.C.L.E. feature film "How to Steal the World" and finally the WWII espionage flick "36 Hours" (James Garner, Eva Marie Saint.)
In 1971, a well-connected Dutch prostitute named Xavier Hollander
published her memoirs under the title of "The Happy Hooker". The book
became an international bestseller with its lighthearted recollections
of her adventures in "the world's oldest profession". "The Happy Hooker"
delighted readers who were relishing the new-found sexual freedoms that
came about in the 1960s. Women, who would have been chastised for
reading such a book ten years earlier, could openly read it on buses and
in subway cars because everyone else was reading it. The content
was erotic enough to be titillating but humorous enough to give it
enough cachet to not be labeled pornographic. How much of it was true?
Who knows. bestselling author Robin Moore ("The Green Berets", "The
French Connection"), who actually took down Hollander's recorded
comments on her life, came up with the title and the book was likely
ghostwritten by Yvonne Dunleavy. With the success of the book, it was no
surprise that a few years later Hollywood brought Hollander's exploits
to the screen the film version of "The Happy Hooker". Released in 1975,
it starred Lynn Redgrave in the title role. Not wanting to alienate
mainstream audiences, the film was made as a saucy comedy. It was
followed two years later by "The Happy Hooker Goes to Washington" with
Joey Heatherton portraying Hollander. The third and final film in the
official trilogy (we won't count an unauthorized hardcore production)
was "The Happy Hooker Goes Hollywood", which was released in 1980 with
Martine Beswick (billed here as "Beswicke") taking over the role.
"The Happy Hooker Goes Hollywood" follows the tradition of the
previous two films in that it stresses zany comedy. However, there are
some surprisingly steamy softcore sex scenes between some very
recognizable actors that makes for a bizarre mixture of slapstick and
eroticism. It also features an eclectic cast of first-rate second
bananas who finally get some plum roles on the big screen, albeit in a
Cannon Films production. Cannon, of course, was notorious for being a
highly profitable "cheese factory", churning out many modestly-budgeted
exploitation flicks for undiscriminating audiences. The film opens with a
wheelchair-bound Phil Silvers (yes, that Phil Silvers!) as
legendary studio mogul William Warkoff, an obnoxious one-time titan of
the industry whose fortunes have been in decline. When he reads that
Xavier Hollander intends to bring her bestselling book to the big
screen, he dispatches his long-suffering right-hand men Joseph Rottman
(Richard Deacon)and his son Robby (Chris Lemmon) as well as Lionel
Lamely (Adam West), to secure the screen rights by whatever underhanded
methods are necessary. Lionel arranges a meeting with Xavier, who is
immediately attracted to him. (In fact, she finds most men irresistible
and even seduces her chauffeur en route to the meeting.) Before long,
Lionel and Xavier are engaging in steamy sex sessions. She falls for him
and agrees to allow Warkoff Studios to produce her film- that is, until
she learns that Lionel actually has a longtime girlfriend and has been
misleading her. She then announces she will make the film herself and
secure her own financing, which outrages Warkoff. In order to raise
money, Xavier employs her ever-ready squad of equally happy hookers. She
sets up an exotic bordello in which men can live out any fantasy,
including having sex with a call girl dressed like Little Bo Peep.
(Imagine "Westworld" for fetishists.) Warkoff strikes a more lucrative
deal with Xavier but intends to deceive her and cheat her out of
ownership rights to the film but she is savvy enough to turn the tables
on him.
Directed by Alan Roberts, "Hollywood" has a goofy charm primarily
because of the good-natured performances of the cast. It's nice to see
Martine Beswick in a rare leading role and she plays the part with a
deft combination of wicked wit and eroticism. (Beswick unabashedly
appears topless numerous times in the course of the film). Adam West,
who looks like he had barely aged a day since playing Batman two decades
previously, also gets a chance to showcase his comedic abilities and
admirable physique. The sex scene between Beswick and West's characters
is a bit eye-opening because it's one of the few elements of the film
that isn't played for laughs and there is some kind of pop culture
appeal to watching the Uncaped Crusader getting it on with a two-time
Bond girl. (Beswick would later recall that West felt very uncomfortable when he discovered how erotic the scene would be.)Phil Silvers overdoes the obnoxious aspect of his character
but it's still enjoyable seeing him in a feature film this late in his
career. Richard Deacon, who made a career of playing sycophantic
"yes-men", is in top form and he and West share an amusing scene in
which they are forced to dress in drag. Chris Lemmon is very appealing
as a naive young man who gets caught up in Xavier's world with
appreciable results. He exudes the same comic timing and mannerisms of
his legendary father, Jack. One of the most unintentionally amusing
aspects of the film is the virtual beatification of Xavier Hollander,
whose approval of the movie must have been a prerequisite. In any event,
she is referred to as a titan of business and a living legend, when, in
fact, by 1980 her star had diminished appreciably. The whole plot
climaxes (if you'll pardon the pun) at the "World Premiere" of the
film...which is also unintentionally amusing because it is only a grand
event by Cannon standards, though they did spring for getting a
spotlight and a few dozen extras to act like a screaming mob as the
stars arrive at a nondescript L.A. theater.
"The Happy Hooker Goes Hollywood" is symbolic of a long Hollywood
tradition of glamorizing prostitution. Xavier and her
stable of call girls are all seen as successful, independent
businesswomen who have turned their love of sex into a profit-making
operation. There's nary a hint that most women who practice the
"profession" are actually forced to do so through human trafficking,
exploitation, torture and threat of death. Instead, films like this
prefer to concentrate on the relatively small percentage of women who do
willingly and successfully work as prostitutes. In this respect, the
movie has to be viewed as a product of the era in which it was made.
Because of it's sheer unpretentious exploitation aspects, it can be
enjoyed as a guilty pleasure.
Susan on the Martha's Vineyard set of "Jaws". (Photo: Universal.)
By Lee Pfeiffer
Susan Backlinie, who appeared in the opening scene of Steven Spielberg's 1975 blockbuster "Jaws", has passed away at her California home at age 77. Backlinie was plucked from obscurity by the young director because she was an expert swimmer who had performed stunt work. In the film she played Chrissie, the ill-fated teenager whose decision to take a moonlight dip in the ocean led to her horrific death from a giant Great White Shark. Although her name would not be known by average movie-goers, it's safe to say that her appearance in the movie represented one of the most famous scenes in screen history. Backlinie's contribution to the film was recognized by legions of die-hard "Jaws" fans who considered her an important member of the production team.
Susan at "Jawsfest" in 2005. (Photo:Cinema Retro).
In 2005, she was an honored guest at Universal's "Jawsfest", which was held at Martha's Vineyard, Massachusetts, where filming took place. Here she was joined by Peter Benchley, author of the bestselling source novel and key members of the original production who were reunited over the celebratory weekend. Backlinie earned her pay on the film, as she recounted over the years. She was attached to a harness and violently pulled through the water to simulate the shark attack. Spielberg was impressed with her courage and hired her to recreate the scene for his 1979 WWII spoof "1941".
Roger Corman and Vincent Price on the set of their 1963 production of Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven", one of their numerous collaborations. (Photo: Cinema Retro Archive))
By Lee Pfeiffer
Roger Corman, an icon of the motion picture industry, has passed away at age 98. It's impossible to overstate his influence in modern moviemaking. The Detroit native had a colorful life as a young man, attending Oxford and spending time in Paris. He joined the U.S. Navy but after a three-year hitch ended up turning to the motion picture industry. His original career goal of becoming an engineer would not be revisited. He found success in Hollywood when he began to produce independent films on Poverty Row budgets, cranking them out sometimes in a manner of days. These exploitation movies were successful with undemanding audiences, often on the drive-in circuit. Corman, who sometimes collaborated with his younger brother Gene, eventually hit pay dirt when he signed a contract to make films for American-International Pictures, then headed by Samuel P. Arkoff. Corman proved to be a productive director, producer and screenwriter. He films for A.I.P. often dealt with horror and the supernatural. He adapted classic Edgar Allan Poe stories for the big screen and gave new life to the careers of aging stars such as Vincent Price, Boris Karloff and Peter Lorre. His other films for A.I.P. tapped into the youth revolution of the mid-to-late 1960s. His biker film "The Wild Angels" was made on a shoestring budget but made a fortune and predictably inspired countless copycat films. He also delved into the youth market's fixation with drugswith "The Trip". He would later raise eyebrows by distributing films by some of the most highly acclaimed international filmmakers including Kurosawa, Fellini and Truffaut.
In the film industry, Corman is remembered also for his early recognition of top talent. Among those actors and filmmakers whose early careers were enhanced by working with Corman were Robert De Niro, Jack Nicholson, Peter Fonda, Ron Howard, James Cameron, Bruce Dern, Joe Dante, Martin Scorsese, Peter Bogdanovich, Jonathan Demme, Francis Ford Coppola, Sylvester Stallone and Robert Vaughn. Fittingly, he received an honorary Oscar in 2009.The film industry is unlikely to see his kind again.
Here's a great musical number: the only on-screen teaming of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Bing Crosby in the 1964 Warner Bros. film "Robin and the Seven Hoods", which boasts a terrific score by Sammy Cahn and Jimmy Van Heusen. In the film, Crosby plays a meek accountant for Sinatra's mob. Sinatra and Dino decide to show Crosby how to spice up his image by performing the marvelous musical number "Style". The film also features the classic song "My Kind of Town" and a show-stopping one-man number by Sammy Davis Jr. that tears up the screen.
In early November of 1969 Box Office reported Robert M. Weitman, former first vice-president of
studio productions for Columbia Pictures, was striking out on his own.In a sense, anyway.Weitman was to embark on his new career as “independent”
producer, albeit one still tethered to Columbia, the company for which we worked
for some four decades.For his first indie
project, Weitman was interested in optioning novelist Lawrence Sanders’ crime-suspense
thriller The Anderson Tapes.
Interestingly, Sanders’ The Anderson Tapes, though already hyped, was not yet formally published.Putnam & Sons of New York set publication
for 27 February 1970.But with the
forthcoming thriller already in industry preview, the all-important
Book-of-the-Month-Club already selected Sander’s debut novel as an exciting, primary
read.Dell Books too were excited over
the book’s prospects, reportedly offering a figure of six-figures for paperback
rights.On the film industry front, Box Office reported there had been
“intensive bidding” for motion-picture rights to the novel, with Weitman’s
offer managing to nudge out those of “several other major producers.”
It certainly didn’t hurt that best-selling author Mario
Puzo, basking in the success of his mafia novel The Godfather, would bless Sanders’ novel with a generous
plug.Puzo mused The Anderson Tapes was, “the best
novel of its kind I’ve read since the early Graham Greene novels, a gripping
story impossible to put down.The
central character, Duke Anderson, is a classic character of tragic
dimensions.Brilliant and
unforgettable.”By April of 1970,
the rave reviews of critics and literary peers would help push The Anderson Tapes to rest comfortably
alongside The Godfather on Top Ten
book lists for Fictional Works.The timing
and stage was set for Weitman’s film version.The only question now was whom would be cast to effectively breathe life
into the central character of Duke Anderson?
Following his completion of work on You Only Live Twice in 1967, Sean Connery – in his earnest (perhaps
desperate) desire to break free of the typecast shackles of his James Bond
image – chose to seek out a number of eccentric roles in modest continental productions.He was cast as a post-Civil War cavalry
officer in the Edward Dmytryk’s western Shalako
(1968), as a doomed Norwegian polar ice cap explorer (Mikhail Kalatozov’s The Red Tent, 1969) and as a radical
coal miner in Martin Ritt’s The Molly
Maguires (1970).
These were all very good films, without doubt.But none would affirm Connery’s status as a
box-office magnet outside of his James Bond persona.Though he remained a celebrity of acclaim and
international renown, Connery was acutely aware he needed a post-Bond movie to
score big with the public-at-large.Much
of his audience still mostly thought of him as the one-and-only James Bond.It was a time of transition.Connery was also in the midst of his transformation
from actor to canny businessman.He was aware
that to make any real money in the entertainment
industry he needed to extend his business interests into producing and optioning
rights to various creative properties.
With that intent in mind in the mid-summer of 1970
Connery and his publicist-management representative, Glenn Rose, announced the
formation of Conn-Rose Productions. Their partnership was to shepherd and
safeguard the business ends of such varied enterprises as feature film
productions, television packages and theatrical events.The company had recently entered into the music
business as well, choosing to publish several compositions by Richard Harris, Connery’s
recent co-star of The Molly Maguires.Conn-Rose were also planning Harris to direct
and assume the title role of Hamlet
in a new staging of Shakespeare’s tragic play.Connery was hinting he might assume the role of Claudius, murderer of Hamlet’s
father.But Connery’s revived interest
in theatre was not confined to time-worn classics.
One of Conn-Rose’s first acquisitions was the stage
production of Click by playwright
Stan Hart.Hart’s one-act play was first
staged in October 1968 at the Mark Taper Forum in Los Angeles, one of several
“experimental” theatre projects offered that autumn.Connery was intrigued by the original scenario
and hoped to develop the property as a feature film.Connery explained his excitement to a
correspondent of the San Francisco Examiner,
“This story Click reads like it was
written by Neil Simon and Edward Albee in collaboration.”
“It’s about a successful man so worried about his image
he has even his friends ‘bugged’ and taped to find out what they really think
of him,” Connery continued..“He ruins
his marriage, wrecks his world.This
fellow is ridiculous and sad at the same time.I can hardly wait to get at him…”In September of 1970, Connery promised to another journalist that Click was next on his schedule.Click
was to be filmed in New York City, he offered, cameras likely to roll on the
picture in April of 1971.Sadly, that
project would not be realized.The production
of Click was derailed by a surprising
and unexpected turn-of-events that would take place in March of 1971 – one in which
we’ll get to in a moment.In the
interim, there was another film project needing Connery’s attention.
In July of 1970 the trades were reporting that Connery
had struck a deal with Columbia to appear as John “Duke” Anderson in The Anderson Tapes, Sidney Lumet already
signed on to direct.Connery had worked
with Lumet previously: he had appeared as a renegade British military officer
in the 1965 prison drama The Hill.Connery regarded The Hill as the best motion-picture of his 1960s filmography and,
as such, was happy to work with Lumet again.Shooting on The Anderson Tapes
for Columbia was scheduled to commence on August 24, 1970, one day prior to
Connery’s fortieth birthday, with production to wrap by October’s end.
That October, with The
Anderson Tapes nearing completion, Connery’s enthusiasm for working in a
theatrical setting seemed to have slackened a bit.The actor was cornered on set by journalist
Bernard Drew.Drew asked of Connery’s
ambition to re-engage in theater work.“You never like to close the door completely,” Connery answered
non-committedly, “But I have no great desire, though I do like to direct in the
theatre.What I really want is to direct
a film, and I have a four-picture contract with Columbia.I’m going to direct one, produce one, and act
in two, but nothing is set.These days,
it’s awfully hard to set anything.There’s a crisis in films.All
the companies are in trouble – except Columbia, but still…”
Only two of the prognostications Connery made to Drew that
day would be realized, and even then only in part.If he had
been extended a four-pic contract with Columbia, his second pic for the company,
Robin and Marian, would not be
released until 1976.Likewise, Connery would
not get any chance to direct, but would serve as co-executive producer – and
star - in still another Sidney Lumet helmed feature, The Offence (1973), which was released by United Artists.Regardless, The Anderson Tapes would serve as the undeniable kick-off to
Connery’s second coming as a box-office figure of standing.
Screenwriter Frank R. Pierson (Cat Ballou, Cool Hand Luke)
had been assigned to adapt and re-work Sanders’ eccentrically-composed novel as
a motion picture.This would prove to be
no easy task.Sanders’ novel was not
written in a conventional narrative form: the book details the lineage of burglar
Anderson’s prospective heist through a collection of police reports, court records,
transcriptions and recordings made, illegally, through the use of governmental electronic
surveillance methods: phone wire-taps, antennas, lip-reads, secreted 16mm film
cartridge spools, reel-to-reel and video recordings.The reader is left, essentially, a voyeur,
following the storyline through the reading of police procedurals and transcripts
of wire-taps.
In crafting his screenplay, Pierson exchanges Sanders’
unorthodox and workmanlike gathering of documentary information for a more cinematic
cops-vs-robbers scenario.His script
also incorporates an uneasy measure of light-hearted humor among other scenario
changes.One contemporary review
acknowledged the resulting film offered “a dash of pretentious social
significance” in its commentary.‘Tis
true both Sanders’ book and Lumet’s film somberly reflected a new encroaching era
of real-life, secreted policing methods: FBI, Treasury Department, and police electronic
surveillance techniques were now procedural – if technically illegal - norms.
The scenario of The
Anderson Tapes - at its most basic:the safe-cracking burglar Duke Anderson is released from prison after
serving a ten-year stretch.He’s hardly
repentant and intends almost from his day-of-release to mastermind a grand
burglary of a swanky East 91st Street apartment house in
Manhattan.What Anderson doesn’t
understand is the world has changed during his decade of incarceration.There are now hidden cameras and recording
devices monitoring his every move.Undeterred, he organizes a rag-tag team of ex-convicts, a mob boss who
owes a favor, and various other ne’er-do-wells to assist in his grandiose
scheme.
Among those co-conspirators is Martin Balsam who chews
the scenery in an amusing, over-the-top performance as “Haskins,” a mincing,
homosexual antiques dealer. (It’s a sort of pre-woke interpretation one would
think twice about attempting today).The
comedian/satirist Alan King appears in the role as “Pat Angelo,” the mobbed-up
son of a syndicate figure whom owes Anderson a debt.King had recently appeared in another film of
Lumet’s, the 1968 comedy Bye Bye
Braverman and had previously
co-starred with Connery in the pre-Bond British military comedy On the Fiddle (released in the U.S. during the Bond craze as Operation Snafu.).King is very good in these
films, though he’d later jest he was offended by a good notice received from a critic for his “Pat Angelo”
performance.The critic had mused King’s
acting in The Anderson Tapes was
“surprisingly good,” a comment the comedian couldn’t help but find at least partly insulting.“What’s surprising,” King asked, “about me
being good?”
Sadly, Dylan Cannon, a good actress, isn’t really given
much of a character role to play off as “Ingrid,” a sexy but extortion-prone kept
mistress and an ex-paramour of Connery’s.The Anderson Tapes is also
noteworthy as the first feature film of importance to introduce a tousled-
haired twenty-seven year-old actor named Christopher Walken (“The Kid”) to the
big screen.Walken isn’t given many
lines of dialogue, but is quietly omnipresent throughout.(During the next fifteen-years, of course, Walken
would not only win an Oscar as Best Supporting Actor for his role in The Deer Hunter, but also served as the
last super-villain to be vanquished by Roger Moore’s James Bond in A View to a Kill (1985).One needn’t look too close to notice there
are plenty of familiar faces mixed throughout the cast:Margaret Hamilton, pre-Saturday Night Live Garrett Morris, Conrad Bain and Ralph Meeker
among them.
There’s little doubt that some of the surprisingly brisk,
earliest box office earnings of The
Anderson Tapes had been buoyed by the tsunami of press attention given to a
tangential event.In early March 1971,
it was announced that Connery, following a one film absence, agreed to return
as James Bond in the seventh 007 thriller Diamonds
are Forever.Shortly following the
breaking of that big news, the gossips reported producer Weitman was soon to
test-preview a rough cut of The Anderson
Tapes at a cinema near Kings Point, not far from the Valley Stream, Long
Island home of Alan King.King would later
chuckle that Lumet took advantage of his kindness - and residential proximity
to New York City.“They were so happy to
have me in it,” he explained of his casting. “No wonder.I lent them my house, my car, my pool.”
Lumet, as was his style, took full advantage of the New
York City locations, incorporating some twenty-three location shoots into his
film.These would include the city’s
Port Authority Bus Terminal, the prison on Riker’s Island, the Convent of the
Sacred Heart on the Lower East Side, the 19th Police Precinct
Station House, Alan King’s home, the Supreme Macaroni Factory restaurant on
Ninth Ave. and 38th Street, at the Korvettes Department Store and even
the steam room of Luxor Health Club on West 46th. In December of 1970, Weitman
brought on Grammy-winning producer Quincy Jones to score the film.His soundtrack, which accentuates the film’s urban,
hip-modern setting, features a lot of jazzy, electronic keyboard figures and
twangy, stand-up bass slides.
The timing and success of The Anderson Tapes was fortuitous for Sean Connery.The general popcorn-chewing cinema audiences
– to one degree or another – had largely ignored Connery’s three most recent film
projects 1968-1970.It escaped no one’s notice
that this odd trio of feature films were decidedly retro/historical in vision
and scope:Shalako was set in the year 1880, The Red Tent in 1928 and The
Molly Maguires in 1876.The Anderson Tapes, on the other hand,
was a more accessible film for moviegoers to engage.The film was a very latter-day
suspense-thriller, staged in modern times.
The result is that The
Anderson Tapes, release in June of 1971, allowed fickle movie audiences the
opportunity to preview what a circa 1971 Sean Connery James Bond might look
like.The relationship between the actor
and his audience was largely estranged following his four-year absence as
Bond.To be sure, The Anderson Tapes made plain that Connery’s hair was thinner and
graying.It was also obvious he was
carrying a few more pounds on his frame.Regardless, most would agree Connery appears a bit more athletic and
lean in The Anderson Tapes than he
would even six-months later when Diamonds
are Forever went into wide release.
For all of its intermittent charms, The Anderson Tapes is not
director Lumet’s best film by any measure.The film is a slow burn and even the film’s climatic “action” scene offers
little more than a weak pay-off in the waiting.On one hand Connery’s “Duke Anderson” captures the spirited zeitgeist of the early 1970s anti-hero.His racially intergraded criminal cabal of
ex-convicts is a pre-Rainbow Coalition of sorts: an African-American driver who
lives above a local Black Panther Party chapter (Dick Anthony), an elderly, institutionalized
ex-con more-than-happy to return to prison (Stan Gottlieb), a young
whipper-snapper (Walken), a psychotic mobster (Val Avery), and an alt-lifestyle
burglar (Balsam): all working under the command of Connery who chatters
throughout in an out-of-character Scots brogue.
To their credit, this unusual band of criminals collude
to rip-off the jewelry, artwork treasures and pricey, swanky accoutrements of
the snobbishly wealthy.Their victims
would be the very folks that many resent: moneyed elites who inhabit the poshest
apartment house on Manhattan’s Upper East Side.So while Connery’s endgame is hardly Robin Hood in design, you’re sort
of rooting for this motley band of bad guys to get away with their crazy caper,
no matter how impractical and far-fetched the plan seems.
On the other hand, this is a suspense film sans any real suspense.Just as the film, at long last, begins to
build a modicum of tension as the burglars take command of the apartment house,
Lumet seemingly disrupts any sense of rising suspense with intercuts of what Village Voice critic Andrew Sarris
lamented as “pointless flashforwards.”Sarris
has a point.Perhaps the intent of such scenes
were Lumet’s homages to the jigsaw-like time-jump constructions of Sanders’ original
novel: but as such these interjected moments – almost all played lightly - don’t
work and only diminish any sense of suspenseful tension.
Though flawed, The
Anderson Tapes actually did very well in early release, opening as a
limited showcase in only two New York City cinemas.The initial rush of mostly favorable reviews
and impressive box office receipts caused Columbia Pictures to take out a
celebratory full-page advertisement in the trades.The ad crowed that Lumet’s film had already taken
in some $87, 476, the “Biggest 4-Day Gross for 2-Theatre Opening in Columbia
History!”The film would gradually soften
and lose some of its initial box-office momentum, but would nonetheless generate
a healthful $5,000,000 in rentals through the end of 1975. I personally own copies of The Anderson Tapes in three different
home video formats, including the beautifully packaged Laserdisc version of
1996 (featuring a mind-boggling forty-one chapter stops!).So, yeah, I guess I’m a fan.
This Kino Lorber Studio Classics Blu-ray edition of The Anderson Tapes is presented in 1920
x 1080p, with a ratio of 1.85:1, dts sound and removable English
sub-titles.Bonus features on the set
include the film’s original theatrical trailer and a single TV spot.There are also an additional eight trailers
offered in bonus, two of Connery’s (The
Great Train Robbery and Cuba)
along with six other crime-dramas offered by Kino.The Blu-ray comes with a slip case and the disc packaging has reversible sleeve artwork. There’s also an audio
commentary courtesy of film critic and journalist Glenn Kenny.Kenny’s commentary is interesting and revealing
in spots, often taking pains to explain the era of encroaching surveillance era
in which the film is set.But I imagine Kenny
is reading from notes rather than a proper script as his spoken-word commentary
suffers a bit from an endless stream of inter-sentence pauses riddled with hesitant
bridging “ums” and “ahs.” It gets to be a bit much at times, but Kenny’s
commentary is still a worthwhile listen for those wishing to learn a bit about
the film’s backstory.
Cinema Retro has received the following press release:
Get ready to revisit some old haunts…
Paramount Home Entertainment is teaming up with FANGORIA to deliver classic thrills and chills to moviegoers across the country. A new theatrical program called “PARAMOUNT SCARES and FANGORIA present SCREAM GREATS” will bring fan-favorite films back to the big screen for special limited engagements.
The program kicks off in select U.S. theatres this month in celebration of the 30th anniversary of the mesmerizing cult classic THE CROW. Fans can visit www.thecrow1994.com for details and follow @ParamountScares on social for ongoing updates.
Additional films will be resurrected in the coming months and each theatrical presentation will include custom bonus content. Titles returning to theatres this year include:
THE CROW 30th Anniversary—May 29 & May 30 (tickets on sale now) FRIDAY THE 13TH PART IV: THE FINAL CHAPTER 40th Anniversary—September 8 & September 10 SLEEPY HOLLOW—October 13 & October 16 ADDAMS FAMILY VALUES—November 10 & November 13
Kirk Douglas wasn't known for his singing abilities but his rendering of "A Whale of a Tale" in Walt Disney's classic "20,000 Leagues Under the Sea" proved to be a hit and one of the most memorable aspects of the timeless, beloved classic. Here is the original 78 RPM recording of the Douglas singing the song.
From the Cinema Retro archives: 1978 British movie magazine advertisement for Peter Sellers in "Revenge of the Pink Panther", his final appearance as Inspector Clouseau.
Here's the original trailer for the 1961 WWII classic "The Guns of Navarone" starring Gregory Peck, Anthony Quinn and David Niven along with a marvelous supporting cast.
If you're a long-time Cinema Retro reader, you know we love those old movie tie-in comic book from days of old, most of which were published in the U.S. by Gold Key and Dell comics. Here's an opportunity to scroll through every page of three of our favorite tie-ins from those days, namely "Hatari!", "The Sons of Katie Elder" and "The Hallelujah Trail". Enjoy your literary journey back in time! Click here to access the issues.
In honor of International Star Wars Day, here's the original 1977 trailer for the very first film in the franchise. Little did we know that the movie would become one of the most iconic releases of all time and alter big screen entertainment forever.
Mario Bava’s The
Whip and the Body would enjoy a very brief run – under a new title - on
U.S. theatre screens in late summer of 1965.By spring of ‘66 the film was
already popping up as a late-night programmer on U.S. television.I was belatedly introduced to the film
via a Chiller Theatre telecast on New
York’s WPIX-TV, circa 1971/72.I can no
longer recall if I was impressed by this atmospheric, mostly monster-less mystery
on that first viewing.I was only ten or
eleven years of age.My hazy memories
are further obscured by it having been broadcast under its U.S. theatrical re-title
as What.
The name of now-legendary director Mario Bava wouldn’t have
meant very much to me either at young age.Even if I had been familiar with Bava’s oeuvre – which I most certainly wasn’t at age ten – the directorial
credit of What had been anglicized, ascribed
to one “John M. Old.”The directorial
fake wouldn’t have mattered much to me, really.All I knew was Christopher Lee was one of the film’s star players, and I
was already a big fan of the actor’s horror pictures.
Regardless of the film title in which you accustomed - The Whip and the Body/ Night is the
Phantom/What/The Whip and the Flesh/La frusta e il Corpo etc. etc. - this
was the second of two Bava films to feature Christopher Lee.The first was Ercole al centro della terra
(1961, aka Hercules in the
Haunted World), an Italian peplum.That film pitted the heroic Hercules (Reg Park) against Lee’s villainous
Lichas (or Lyco or Lico, depending on the release).Lichas is variously described as “Lord of the
Hades Underworld” or “King of the Dead.”
The actor’s typecasting made
sense, all things considered.Lee had once
enjoyed playing a diverse number of character roles since his 1947 entry into
the film business.But following the
runaway success of Hammer’s Horror of Dracula (1958), the actor somewhat
frustratingly found himself mostly employed as a heavy in an on-going string of
horror films, fog-shrouded mysteries, and psychological-thrillers.
Lee would later generously deem
Bava as “one of Italy’s greatest cameramen” and, true to form, both Hercules
in the Haunted World and The Whip and the Body, are awash in the eerily
brilliant and fluorescent colors for which the director is acclaimed.Technically, the cinematographer for the
latter film is Ubaldo Terzano, but much of the photography is accepted as Bava’s
own, albeit uncredited.Bava’s greatness
partly lies in his painter’s eye for style: he combines color, shadows and
shadings to create atmosphere and great imagery.
As director, Bava also employs
innovative lighting and lots of blue-tinting to create his striking,
imaginative visuals.On his wonderful
commentary track, author Tim Lucas describes such eerie colorization as Bava’s moonlit
“Blue of Night.”Throughout The Whip
and the Body, Bava’s visual stylings perfectly reflect the film’s moody and
atmospheric aura.His use of purposeful
slow tracking shots and pan photography – abetted by composer Carlo
Rustichelli’s evocative, mysterious score – masterfully evokes a sense of tangible,
shadowy foreboding: who (or what?) lurks behind that candle-lit curtain or
door?
The Whip and the Body concerns the unwelcome return of Kurt Menliff
(Lee) to his ancestral home, a castle nestled on lonesome cliff side overlooking
the sea.His own father, Count Vladimir
(Jacques Herlin) is not pleased to see him nor is Giorgia (Harriet White), the
Count’s servant.Years earlier, we learn,
Kurt had seduced Giorgia’s daughter.His
subsequent cruel rejection of the girl is believed to be the cause of her
suicide.Although Kurt’s bother
Christian (Tony Kendall) is welcoming of his brother’s return, he too will come
to regret such forgiveness.His own wife
Nevenka (Israeli actress Daliah Lavi) falls prey to Kurt’s Svengali-like
attraction – who, true to form, abuses and degrades her with a fetishistic,
sadomasochistic whipping.I can’t say
much more than that plot-wise without risking spoilers.So I’ll just say that following Kurt’s attack
on Nevenka, the film moves from straight-on melodrama to a mostly satisfying scenario
combining elements of ghost story and mystery whodunit.
Budgeted at approx. $66, 500, The
Whip and the Body began production in July of 1960.The film was slated for a seven-week schedule.Principal photography wrapped in six-weeks,
the seventh to begin post-production work.The film was an Italian/French collaboration, a production of Cosmopolis
Films and Les Films Marbeuf.Both
companies had been involved in the exploitation of the then very-much-in-vogue
“sword and sandal” pictures: strongman adventures loosely tethered to tales sourced
from Greek and Roman mythologies.On his
commentary track, Lucas describes the scenario of The Whip and the Body
as essentially akin to “a Greek Tragedy” in its construction.
The film’s screenplay is
credited to Ernesto Gastaldi, Ugo Guerra and Luciano Martino, with the film
produced (without credit) to Federico Magnaghi.Upon the film’s release in English-speaking markets the writing credits
for the original Italian trio were anglicized as “Julian Berry, Robert Hugo and
Martin Hardy.”Bava too did not escape
such name-change ignominy, his directorial credit ascribed to “John M. Old,” a
pseudonym used on several of his films.The time-period and country in which this Gothic mystery is set is
indeterminate.This was, according to
scenarist Gastaldi, entirely intentional.Though the seaside locations were filmed in Italy near Anzio, the main
characters are given Eastern European-sounding names and the set dressing peculiarly
mixes period styles and time-dates.
A prolific screenwriter of
horror, pirate and peplum films, Ernesto Gastaldi had already written scripts
for such Italian melodramas as The Vampire and the Ballerina (1960), Werewolf
in a Girls’ Dormitory (1961), and The Horrible Dr. Hichcock (1962). Following production on The Whip and the Body, producer Magnaghi would team with writers Guerra
and Martino (in addition to writer-director Brunello Rondi) to bring Daliah
Lavi back in the obscure but sultry exorcism flick II Demonio (1963).
(Photo: Cinema Retro Archive)
The Whip and the Body was not a huge success.Lucas describes the film as Bava’s “biggest
box-office flop,” the picture’s final tally generating back only half of its investment.Upon the film’s release, critics gave any
number of reasons why the film’s box-office was disappointing.Variety was mildly impressed,
describing the film as genuinely suspenseful if best suited for “sophisticated
audiences.” But the trade also thought the film flawed in execution: “The
Gothic-novel atmosphere and trappings of secret passages, muddy footprints from
the crypt and ghost lover, probably will draw more laughs than gasps.”
London’s Monthly Film
Bulletin was far more withering in its assessment of Night is the
Phantom (the film’s British re-title).Their critic described it as “Another of Italy’s prankish simulations of
a British horror movie, the film is slow, repetitive, verging on parody.Censor or distributor cuts have rendered much
of the plot incomprehensible, though one doubts if it ever made sense
entirely.”In fairness, the same critic conceded
the film’s “weird and doom-laden claustrophobia” was, in retrospect,
“unfailingly compulsive, mainly because of the redolent Freudian
associations.”
The more uncomfortable Freudian
moments of Menliff’s fetishistic abuse of Nevenka were cut from the film’s continental
version.Christopher Lee only reminisced
that he and Lavi shared “some very torrid love scenes” in the making of the
film, but left it at that.Most of those
scenes would not be made privy to either continental or western cinemagoers.Upon the film’s initial release in Italy, that
country’s censors would come down hard on it, deeming several sequences obscene
due to “degenerations and anomalies of sexual life.” There were demands that these
moments be cut from the film.Though the
filmmakers complied in making such trims, producer Magnaghi still found himself
standing before a Rome court.He was
subsequently acquitted of obscenity charges in January of 1964.
Though Lucas does bring up the
censorship issues surrounding The Whip and the Body, he does not make
the issue a centerpiece of his commentary.He does points out in his very informative analysis that the film was
very much influenced by the earliest of Roger Corman’s Edgar Allan Poe
productions for American-International.Which, in turn, had been very much styled after such continental
productions as Bava’s Black Sunday (1960).
Though A.I.P. had distributed earlier
works of Bava’s in the U.S., they balked on The Whip and the Body –
likely due to the film’s sadomasochistic salaciousness.Though mild by today’s standards, the film was
thought unsuitable for young and impressionable theatergoers.The film was eventually picked up for U.S.
distribution in 1965 by Richard G. Yates’ Futuramic Releasing.The film, now curiously re-titled as What,
was doomed to play the U.S. drive-in circuit in the summer of 1965.Accompanied by a rather gray and cheapish exploitation
campaign, What was top-bill to a second Futuramic import from the
continent, Isidore M. Ferry’s Face of Terror (Spain, 1964) (original
title La cara del terror).
One needn’t be a particularly
avid fan of Christopher Lee (or any of the others on screen) to notice that all
dialogue is dubbed throughout.As with
many of Bava’s films, his work was intended for wide international release.To that end, many of his films were shot sans
sync-sound, with foreign-language market dubbing scheduled long after the original
cast had moved on.Upon viewing The
Whip and the Body, Lee was left aghast by his character’s misplaced
American-affected voice-over dub.He would
insist afterward that all of his foreign-language film contracts included the
proviso he handle any necessary dubbing himself.
This Kino Lorber Studio
Classics Blu-ray issue of The Whip and the Body is the company’s second
issue of this title, the first being released in 2013.The set features a 2023 4K scan and a 2K
restoration by 88 Films from an HD master from an original 35mm print.The set includes both the original Italian
and English dubs as audio options as well as optional English subtitles and the
film’s theatrical trailer as well as trailers from other Bava films.As referenced above, Tim Lucas of Video
Watchdog fame and author of the exhaustive one-thousand plus page tome Mario
Bava: All the Colors of the Dark delivers a masterful commentary – though
one familiar as it has been ported over from Kino’s 2013 Blu-ray release via
VCI’s DVD issue of 2007.The new release
is also fitted with the now inevitable cardboard sleeve protector, which
apparently are prized by some collectors..Without question, essential viewing for fans of Bava and Christopher
Lee.
In 1961, Sean Connery was still a modest name in show business. He was recognized by audiences as a supporting actor and while his face may have been familiar, it's probable that most people couldn't place his name. That would all change the following year when Connery's first James Bond film, "Dr. No", was released, making him an instant superstar. Here is a 1961 reverent (if bare bones) televison production of "MacBeth" in which Connery played the titular character. Henceforth, he would never be drawn back to enacting the classics. Given the fact that he gives a fine performance here, it's more the pity that he was never tempted to return to the works of Shakepeare. The quality is sub-par but it doesn't negate the production's merits. (Lee Pfeiffer)
We
first had a VHS machine in our house in 1985. It was an exciting day, and to
celebrate, my parents rented a cartoon for us all to enjoy. It turned out to be
Watership Down (1978). I was nine years old, and its jarring combination
of cute rabbits and graphic violence was a suitably scary introduction to the
dangerous world of home video. Within a few months both horror films and
illegally distributed pornography would be playing in my living room alongside
the episodes of ThunderCats (1985-1989) I was taping on Saturday
mornings. The video recorder really did change the landscape of the 1980s, and
although I was not really old enough to fully appreciate what was going on, I
did occasionally get glimpses of things that were not meant for me; whether it
was seeing a man getting lowered into a mincing machine from behind the sofa at
a babysitter’s house (a classic moment from The Exterminator (1980)), or
being egged on to play one of my dad’s dodgy tapes by my mates when we were the
only ones home (which very quickly caused a horrified reaction and a mad
scramble for the eject button). So, although VHS had made a personal impact, I
was unaware that my mind and soul had become a battleground for moral
campaigners obsessed with the wild, wild world of unregulated videos in the
early 1980s.
Davids
Kerekes and Slater, who’s Cannibal Error is an updating of their in-depth
study of the ‘video nasty’ panic See No Evil (2000), were the right age
to be smack in the middle of the furore, where independent distributors were
trying to make quick money selling imported horror films from Europe and the
USA and collectors were suddenly turned into potential criminals thanks to the
efforts of campaigners like Mary Whitehouse and Tory MP Graham Bright who
managed to get the right-wing press whipped up into a frenzy which helped rush
through the Video Recordings Act, granting legal powers to the British Board of
Film Classification, amidst claims that children were in danger from films like
SS Experiment Camp (1976), The Driller Killer (1979) and Zombie
Flesh Eaters (1979). The press frequently connected real life crimes with
films as if to suggest that access to violent videos were encouraging copycat
behaviour, which came to a pinnacle in 1987 when Michael Ryan shot and killed
sixteen people in Hungerford, Wiltshire, and the press tried to pin this on his
being obsessed with the character of Rambo, played by Sylvester Stallone in two
films by then (1982 & 1985). It was never proved that he’d even seen the
films, but that did not stop the press continuing to blame films for real-life
tragedies such as this and many others.
The
authors present a huge amount of research here into what was going on during
the 1980s and into the 1990s, both from the legislative side to the effect it
was having on film collectors. There are fascinating interviews with people
whose homes were raided by police or Customs and Excise because they were suspected
of owning pornography or copies of Cannibal Holocaust (1980), and the
impact it made on their lives. Being collectors themselves, Cannibal Error
is not a balanced, dispassionate view of the ‘video nasties’ debates and those
concerned. This is worth bearing in mind when reading. Personally, having been
a child exposed to things I shouldn’t have seen back in the 1980s, I have some
sympathy with Mary Whitehouse and her fellow campaigners. I think there was
merit in trying to ensure that films were not easily available to those who
were underage, and that home video ought to be regulated and controlled in much
the same way as films were for cinemas. However, as this book makes clear,
things went much too far and so much police time was wasted rummaging through teenagers'
bedrooms looking for third-generation copies of I Spit on Your Grave
(1978). The great irony now is that many of these long-considered-dangerous
films are now available restored and uncut with BBFC certificates on Blu-ray
and UHD, and the whole idea of films being dangerous seems rather quaint.
This
new expanded edition of their earlier work features a detailed examination and review
of each film that was considered illegal according to the UK government, known
as the DPP39, alongside lengthy interviews with film collectors and BBFC
examiners, the latter providing some balance to the discussion. Covering
European horror, pornography, film collecting, censorship, moral panics and the
intersection between cinema and politics, Cannibal Error is an important
contribution to our understanding of the ‘video nasty’ debacle.
The
Pre-Code days of Hollywood (prior to July 1, 1934) sported numerous studio
productions that raised eyebrows and caused consternation among the more
Puritan segments of America’s population. This eventually led to the Hays
Office overseeing Tinsel Town’s self-implemented Production Code that policed content
in the motion picture business until the mid-1960s.
Before
the Code—and after—there were also low-budget non-studio independent productions
that went even further in exploiting (the key word here) sex, drugs, and
violence under the guise of being “educational films.” They were often marketed
guerilla style, as if the circus was coming to town, in which distributors
would book a theater for a week, bombard the press with “adults only”
advertisements, make a killing at the box office, and then move on to the next
town. This scheme worked because, after all, prurient subject matter sells.
The
Road to Ruin is
one such exploitation film but it’s a bit different. In a way it’s a hybrid of
the Hollywood B-movie and an independent production of dubious quality. In
contrast to other pictures of its ilk, Road is a step above. There are
aspects here that are admirable and worth a look, even if it’s a view backwards
into a time and place that today is quaint, sensationalist, and laughable,
which is why we enjoy these gems from the past. Therein lies the charm of these
movies that have recently been restored and released on Blu-ray as a series
called “Forbidden Fruit: The Golden Age of the Exploitation Picture,” from Kino
Lorber Classics in association with Something Weird Video.
There
are two versions of the film. First there was the 1928 silent production,
directed by Norton S. Parker, written by Willis Kent, and starring a young,
pretty blonde named Helen Foster, who had been working in numerous Hollywood
silent pictures at the time and developed a name for herself through, at least,
the 1930s. The Road to Ruin was a popular hit, so much so that a few
years later, it was remade as a talkie in 1934, written and directed by “Mrs.
Wallace Reid,” the credited name of Dorothy Davenport. Davenport had indeed
been married to the actor Wallace Reid, who had died in 1923 from complications
due to drug addiction. Interestingly, the 1934 talkie also stars Helen Foster
in the same lead role of the innocent high school girl who becomes corrupted by
(in this order) alcohol, drugs, and sex. In the 1928 silent version she is
“Sally Canfield”; in the 1934 talkie she is “Ann Dixon.” Foster is quite
believable as a 17-year-old in the silent picture… not so much in the talkie
(she was 27 when that was made). Nevertheless, Foster’s performances in both
versions are the main reason why both movies are notable. She is quite
charismatic and not without talent.
The
story in both movies is exactly the same (Davenport based the later screenplay
on Willis Kent’s 1928 version). Sally/Ann is friends with Eve, another high
school teen who is wilder mainly because her divorcing parents are wealthy and are
too busy throwing parties and serving illegal booze (it was the Prohibition era
at the time). Sally/Ann and Eve go out with some schoolboys who introduce
Sally/Ann to alcohol… and one thing leads to another. Then, one night, dashing older
man Don/Ralph spots Sally/Ann in a club and makes his move. Sally/Ann begins
seeing him, and of course Don/Ralph offers the drugs and gets her pregnant. The
sordid tale then goes into the dangers of unlawful abortion and the catastrophic
results. As the tagline of the 1934 picture reads, it’s a movie about “modern
youth burned at the altar of ignorance.”
The
movies were meant to be cautionary tales to parents, imploring them to instruct
their children in sex education and the ways of the world. Never mind that
there are scenes of strip poker in the silent movie and strip dice in the
talkie. It’s educational! That said, as opposed to other exploitation movies of
the time such as Narcotic (1933)or Marihuana (1936), there
is a tonal sincerity of intent by the filmmakers. They likely truly believed that
The Road to Ruin, both versions, were not exploitation movies. This is
why they might be viewed as a cut above others of the genre.
The
new Kino Blu-ray presents a 4K restoration of the 1934 version and it looks
quite good. It comes with an audio commentary by Eric Shaefer, author of Bold!
Daring! Shocking! True!: A History of Exploitation Films. The 1928 version
does not have the 4K restoration but it still looks marvelous for its age, and
it comes with an audio commentary by film historian Anthony Slide and a new
musical score by Andrew Earle Simpson.
The
Road to Ruin is
for fans of Hollywood history, Pre-Code sensibilities, exploitation films, and
the time capsule aspects of American family life in the late 1920s and early
1930s. Just don’t do anything we wouldn’t.
Classic Film “Raiders of the Lost Ark”Special Event May 17 in Omaha
TCM’s Ben Mankiewicz attending to celebrate
50th screening of classic films.
Omaha, NE –
April 24, 2024 – Celebrate the magic of cinema with Omaha film historian Bruce
Crawford as he presents his 50th tribute to classic films. The milestone event
will showcase the legendary blockbuster, "Raiders of the Lost Ark",
on Friday, May 17, 2024, at the Omaha Community Playhouse.
This special
screening commemorates the adventurous spirit and cultural impact of the 1981
classic. Directed by Steven Spielberg and starring Harrison Ford as the iconic
Indiana Jones, the film invites audiences to rediscover the exhilaration of the
chase for the Ark of the Covenant against the backdrop of a world on the brink
of war.
EVENT
HIGHLIGHTS:
·Screening:
"Raiders of The Lost Ark" (1981) ·Date
& Time: Friday, May 17, 2024, 7:00 p.m. ·Venue:
Omaha Community Playhouse, 6915 Cass St, Omaha NE 68132 ·Ticket
Cost: $30.00 - Available for purchase starting Wednesday, April 24
SPECIAL
APPEARANCE:
Ben Mankiewicz, the esteemed host of Turner Classic Movies, will enrich the
evening with an exclusive on-stage discussion about the film's enduring legacy
and its significance in American pop culture. Fans will also have the unique
opportunity to engage with Mankiewicz during a post-show meet-and-greet
session.
In its
initial release, "Raiders of the Lost Ark" dominated box offices
worldwide and was later enshrined in the National Film Registry for its
historical, cultural, and aesthetic significance. As the latest in a series of
beloved classic film screenings, Crawford has hosted events featuring epic
narratives such as "Ben Hur," "Gone with the Wind," and
"The Godfather," with guest appearances by Hollywood royalty.
The 50th
classic film event promises to be a night of nostalgia and excitement. All
proceeds will benefit the Omaha Christian Academy. Don't miss this
extraordinary tribute to the timeless adventure that continues to capture the
hearts of moviegoers.
James Bond fans may have seen still photos of this event from July, 1966 when football stars visited Pinewood Studios and met some big name celebs who were filming there at the time including rocker Cliff Richard, legendary character actor Robert Morley, Sean Connery who was filming his fifth James Bond movie, "You Only Live Twice" and Yul Brynner who was making his own spy flick, "The Double Man" Unfortunately, these brief newsreel clips don't have the soundtrack so we can all just surmise what might have been said. Here is the description from the YouTube channel that posted the footage:
"Footage of the stars of the England Football team visiting the Pinewood Studios set of the latest James Bond movie "You Only Live Twice". They met the star of the film series Sean Connery and a number of other celebrities including film actor Yul Bryner, Englsih pop singer Cliff Richard, English comedy actor Norman Wisdom and the actor Robert Morley.
The visiting players, on a break from the ongoing FIFA World Cup tournament, included the captain Bobby Moore, striker Bobby Charlton, defender Jackie Charlton, goalkeeper Gordon Banks and striker Jimmy Greaves. Manager Alf Ramsay was also present.
Source: Reuters News Archive."
The Australian video company Imprint is releasing a Blu-ray edition of Patrick McGoohan's classic TV series "The Prisoner". The further good news is that it contains some new bonus material that didn't appear on previous releases from other companies. Click here to pre-order.
(Prices are in Australian dollars, so use a currency converter to see the cost in your own country.)
"RETRO-ACTIVE: ARTICLES FROM THE CINEMA RETRO ARCHIVES"
In 1986, the Imperial Toy Company licensed a line of official James Bond products. However, collectors were bewildered by the choice of items ranging from over-sized, cheapo plastic sunglasses to weapons,watches and communications equipment that were never seen in a 007 movie. The web site Plaid Stallions explains why. It seems Imperial had an existing line of generic action toys and decided to use their license with Eon Productions to simply print stickers and packaging that featured Roger Moore and re-market the stuff as official Bond merchandise. Indeed, it was official but only in the technical sense. Ironically, the enthusiasm for vintage Bond memorabilia has seen some of these less-than-inspiring toys sell for surprisingly high prices. Click here for photos and the full story. (Thanks to Nick Sheffo of the Fulvue Drive-in site for alerting us to this amusing article.)
In this rare in-depth interview, the late Robert Conrad is shown discussing his remarkable career on television. Here is the official description from the priceless "Pioneers of Television" project.:
Robert Conrad sits down to discuss his iconic moments in his career and the famous show "The Wild Wild West"
Director: Steven J Boettcher
Star: Robert Conrad
? About Pioneers of Television
Television’s beloved stars bring their stories to life, offering insider tales and surprising revelations you won’t hear anywhere else. The Emmy-nominated producers of Pioneers of Television open the vault to give you exclusive access.
Francis Ford Coppola puts his money where his mouth is when it comes to bringing his cinematic obsessions to reality. Unable to get major studio financing for his 1979 epic "Apocalypse Now", he mortgaged everything he had and financed the film himself. The movie became an acclaimed blockbuster but a few years later Coppola lost his shirt with his next self-financed project, the ill-fated mega-budgeted musical "One from the Heart". Now the veteran filmmaker has completed his latest dream project, the big budget film "Megalopolis", which Coppola has been trying to bring to the screen for many years. As with "Apocalypse", he's mortgaged his assets to make the movie, but now finds it difficult to get a distribution deal after a preview of the flick met with mixed reactions. Writing in The Hollywood Reporter, Thomas Doherty examines the situation in detail and looks back at the trials and tribulations Coppola faced bringing "Apocalypse Now" to the screen.
The Manila International Film Festival was set to open its doors to guests on 20 January 1982. The date was nearly a year to the day that strong-man Philippine President Ferdinand E. Marco had lifted his controversial eight-year term of martial law restrictions in the country. But the lifting of the martial law brought only small relief to the majority populace. ThePhilippines was still racked by issues of rampant poverty, wealth inequality and unemployment. Bothpolitical and cultural observers thought itfolly to stage such a gilded film event during this transitional period.The Associated Press reported the festival was toconvene in a building costing some 21.5 million dollars - and still under construction.The film center, designed to housescreening rooms and film laboratories,was to also serve as primary archive of Filipino cinema holdings.
The center, described as an eight-story “Parthenon-like Film Palace” was ordered to be built withinthe time of 170 construction days. In such rushed circumstance, aroof collapse occurredreportedly endingthe lives of some fourteen construction workers. The order to erect thepalatial center wasgiven by none other than Imelda Marcos, first lady of the Philippines, often chided for her “edifice complex” excesses. Many saw this wild expenditure as sorry government decision-makingconsidering the nation’s significant economic issues. But Marcos – appearing before the press in a pair of lovely pair of shoes, no doubt – saw it differently.
Marcoscountered that a strong Filipino “film industry would help reduce Manila’s crime rate, because it would give people something to do in their leisure time.” But she was also mindful that a prestigious festival might burnish her country’s damaged image worldwide – all those pesky claims of human rights violations continued to dog the regime.Though anti-Marco forces promised to disrupt the festival should it be held, the army was prepared to protect. There was, thankfully, no violence.
On 2 February 1982, a correspondent from Variety sent in a dispatch from the inaugural staging of the twelve-day festival. The report made note that Filipino film product wasn’t often seen outside the borders of the Pacific island nation. He reasoned this was due to the selling inexperience of local producers. They had worked in isolation for so long, they simply were not familiar with the film industry’s “aggressive marketing tactics.” Two months prior to the actual staging of the event, Variety described how “reluctant” Filipino producers had been invited to a seminar – one designed to stoke their “sales offensive” skills through “showmanship” tactics. But the trade sighed that despite the well-intentioned marketing teach-in, the Filipino film industry had been too long xenophobic, their business-side interest mostly “half-hearted.”
Regardless, and despite many boycotts of the Marcos-inspired event, there was a bubbling of international interest in Filipino film product. Brokers had expressed significant interest in buying distribution rights to eight of the Filipino features offered and available, the sum of those investments bringing sales of nearly a half-million dollars to local producers. Nearly 300 films had been made available to international film brokers at the event, sixty of Filipino provenance. One of the most popular Filipino films – described breathlessly as the festival’s “Top scorer by far” - was an unusual, over-the-top secret agent pastiche featuring a two-foot, nine-inch actor named Weng Wengas central hero. (Critic Alexander Walker of London’s Evening Standard would mockingly describe the diminutive Weng as “a James Bond type cut-off”). The Weng film, directed by Eddie Nicart, was mischievously titled For Y’urHeight Only, an obvious word playon the most recent James Bond screen adventure For Your Eyes Only.
I can’t say with certainty that For Y’ur Height Onlyplayed the grindhouse theaters of “The Deuce” on Manhattan’s 42nd Street, but the film would have fit in well there. It’s a spy-film fever-dream of sorts: thecrack addicts and alcoholics in the grungy red seats could awake from their own narcotic-fed hallucinations and behold images on screen even wilder beyond their own madness’s.This was James-Bond-on-a-budget.A very low budget.Weng’s “Agent 00” is even introduced via an ersatz 007 gun barrel sequence, the moment heightened by the pulsing –and very familiar – opening strains of John Barry’s “James Bond Theme.”
The film itself is all spy-film formula.For Y’ur Height Onlyopens with the kidnapping of a scientist who holds the secret formula to a coveted “N Bomb” weapon. The syndicate behind the kidnapping is led by the mysterious “Mr. Giant” who chooses to communicate withhis minions through a blinking-light, oversized facial mirror.Mr. Giant’s crime syndicate is not, all things considered, particularly political. They also dabble in street-level crimes: drugs, prostitution and theft. They’re a cabal of rogues,openly declaring, “The forces of good are our enemy and they must be exterminated.”
In reaction to the kidnapping, little-person Agent 00 (Weng, described as a “man of few words”), is summoned to report to the office of an ersatz “M.” Weng’s boss breaks down the situation before offeringthe agent a staggering number of gadgets to put to use while working in the field. These include a pen that “doesn’t write words,” a tiny jet-pack, and a razor-brim hat with boomerang-return capability. Of courseWeng manages to dutifully employall of these gadgets while targeting the evildoers: one minion remarks, inarguably, that Wengis “a one-an army,”anothertags him as the “scourge of the secret service.”
Honestly, Weng hardly requiresall the gadgetry. He parachutes from the top of a high-rise building using an ordinary bumbershoot for ballast (think Batman ’66 Penguin-style). But he more often employs his karateskills to bring down platoonsof bad guys with multiple sharp kicks to their groins.Weng also appears a lot smarter than his adversaries as well: he’salways a step or two ahead of theircounter-moves.In a filmbrimming-to-the-edgeswith non-stop action, Weng is constantly seen climbing above or understructures orsliding across floors to vanquish evil gunmen. The film reaches its climax when Weng engages in mano a mano fisticuffs with Mr. Giant, at the villain’s secret lair on a hidden island.
I believe it’s reasonable to saythat for all of its eccentric, energetic charm, For Y’ur Height Onlyis completely and utterly bonkers.It’s also a very cheap looking feature film, the settings gritty and tawdry, the scripting ridiculous. The faces of the entire cast are entirely covered in the glistening sheen of South Pacific humidity and sweat. The film’s atrocious dubbing (from native Tagalog to English) – not the fault of the original filmmakers, of course – burdens the soundtrack: an additional later ofaural nonsensetocompliment the madness on screen.Though For Y’ur Height Onlyis often categorized as an “action-comedy” the original filmmakers took exception, arguing it was no such thing. In their mind, they had made a straight-up formulaic spy film, albeit one with an unusual actor in the lead role.
Following the great reaction and interest inFor Y’ur Height Only at the Manila fest, there were discussions of grumbling embarrassment among Filipino artists and intellectuals in attendance. How could this amateurishly produced extravaganza of pure exploitative nonsense have bested the country’s more significantly erudite and artistic entries?But the film brokers at the festival weren’t highbrows. They were interested in buying cheap and making a few dollars off this novelty spy adventure. Kurt Palm of West Germany’s Repa-Film Productions,purchased the rights to For Yur Height Only(and two other of Weng’s films) for $60,000. Sri Lanka chipped in an additional $1500 for Height rights. Before the festival closed,the producers had sold export rights of Height to distributors in Belgium, France, Indonesia, Italy, Morocco, Nigeria and Switzerland, as well asa number of South American countries.Continue reading "AGENT DOWN: THE IMPROBABLE RISE AND SAD FALL OF SECRET AGENT "OO""
A mind-expanding endeavor, the set
features 99 mostly comic rarities produced from 1898 to 1926, gleaned from
archives and libraries across the globe. It is a triumph of scholarship.” —
Manohla Dargis, The New York
Times
"Cinema’s First Nasty Women
is a game-changer for teaching film history."
-- Catherine Russell, Cineaste
Magazine
"As an entertainment, it’s a
hoot. So much fun! As a look back at the film industry before women creators
were reined in, it’s an historical resource. For anyone who is interested in
early cinema, this disc set is a real treat!"
-- Audrey Kupferberg,
WAMC Northeast Public Radio
"An abundance of low-down female
slapstick anarchy....It's old-school film history turned inside out." --
Michael Atkinson, Sight and Sound
"We need to celebrate this
amazing, labor of love, four Blu-ray package - also hoping for future editions!
It has our strongest recommendation."
-- Gary Tooze, DVDBeaver
Fresh
off its win at the Cinema
Ritrovato DVD Awards, Cinema's
First Nasty Women -- a four-disc set showcasing more than
fourteen hours of rarely-seen silent films about feminist protest, slapstick
rebellion, and suggestive gender play -- has continued to garner critical
praise and inspire innovative repertory programming. This collection is a
celebration of the unknown but indelible women whose rebellious energy and
creative labor helped establish the international silent film industry. Their
work deserves to be enjoyed and remembered today.
Eat
your heart out Barbenheimer! With recent discussions about the power of
popular media to challenge gender norms, subvert lazy stereotypes, and incite
riotous experimentation, now is the perfect time to rediscover these
irreverent, uproarious, and astonishing works from more than a century ago. The
performers in these films paved the way for feminist comedy and gender activism
today. Their wild antics offer uncanny images for navigating the unresolvable
crises and unrealized potentials of our own times. Feast your eyes on Cinema's
First Nasty Women!
These
women organize labor strikes, bake (and weaponize) inedible desserts, explode
out of chimneys, electrocute the police force, and assume a range of identities
that gleefully dismantle traditional gender norms and sexual constraints.
The
films span a variety of genres including slapstick comedy, genteel farce, the
trick film, cowboy melodrama, and adventure thriller, and spotlight performers
and characters like Bertha Regustus, Minnie Devereaux (Cheyenne and Arapaho),
Lillian St. Cyr (Ho-Chunk), Léontine, Little Chrysia, and Edna “Billy” Foster.
Cinema’s
First Nasty Women
includes 99 European and American silent films, produced from 1898 to 1926,
sourced from thirteen international film archives and libraries, with all-new
musical scores, video introductions, commentary tracks, and a lavishly illustrated
booklet by leading scholars and artists, including Shelley Stamp, Jane Gaines,
Jennifer Bean, Mariann Lewinsky, Susan Stryker, Arigon Starr (Kickapoo), Kyla
Wazana Tompkins, Yiman Wang, and Liza Black (Cherokee).
Curated
by Maggie Hennefeld, Laura Horak, and Elif Rongen-Kaynakçi, and produced for
video by Bret Wood, Cinema’s First Nasty Women is a partnership of Kino
Lorber, Le Giornate del Cinema Muto, Women Film Pioneers Project, Eye
Filmmuseum, FIC-Silente, and Carleton University.
CINEMA'S FIRST NASTY
WOMEN
Four-Disc Collection (1898-1926)
Region Free
Directors: various
Cast: Florence Turner, Little Chrysia,
Texas Guinan, Fay Tincher,
Gene Gauntier, Mabel Taliaferro,
Bertha Regustus, Sarah Duhamel,
Evelyn Greeley, Laura Bayley, Edna
"Billy" Foster, Tsuru Aoki, Léontine
Total Running Time: 875 minutes
Countries: Denmark, France, Italy,
Netherlands, Sweden, U.K., U.S.
Genres: Comedy, Action, Drama,
Melodrama, Silent, Slapstick, Western
Technically speaking, OSS 117 secret agent Hubert
Bonisseur de La Bath is not a James
Bond knock off.The creation of wildly
prolific French author Jean Bruce, the first literary adventure of the spy arrived
in 1949 with the publication of Tu parles d'une ingénue (Ici OSS 117).This
would pre-date the April 1953 publication of the first Ian Fleming James Bond
novel, Casino Royale, by nearly four years.In the years following the publication of that
first 007 thriller to his last in 1965, Fleming would deliver an impressive thirteen
James Bond novels and nine short stories.
In contrast, Jean Bruce would
publish no fewer (and possibly more) than eighty-eight to ninety OSS 117
pulp-adventures between 1949 and March of 1963, the month and year of his
passing. It’s difficult to determine how many of Bruce’s novels were of his
composition alone. His widow, Josette – and later a teaming of the Bruce’s son
and daughter – would continue the pulp series into the early 1990s. So determined
bibliophiles will have their work cut out for them if they wish to track down
all of the 250+ published OSS 117 novels.
If OSS 117 beat James Bond to
the stalls of book-sellers, he also managed to beat him to the cinema
screen.Two OSS 117 films were released
throughout Western Europe and foreign markets in 1957 and 1960: OSS 117 n'est pas mort (OSS 117 is not Dead)
andLe bal des espions
(Danger in the Middle East).The latter title,
interestingly, does not feature “Hubert Bonisseur de La Bath.”Though based on one of Bruce’s OSS 117
novels, a messy rights-issue prevented the filmmakers to use the central
character’s moniker.These earliest
films, produced as routine crime dramas by differing production companies (and
featuring different actors in the title role), came and went without attention
nor fanfare.
But in 1963 Bruce’s OSS 117 character was resurrected as
a cinematic property following the success of Terence’s Young’s Dr. No, the first James Bond screen
adventure.The spy pictures comprising
Kino Lorber’s OSS 117 Five Film
Collection are tailored as pastiches of the popular James Bond adventures
of the 1960s.This new Blu ray set
features the entirety of OSS 117 film thrillers produced 1963 through 1968
during the height of Bondmania.And,
just as the Eon series offered a trio of actors to portray James Bond
(1962-1973), the OSS series would likewise present three in the role of Colonel
Hubert Bonisseur de La Bath.Each actor
would bring some aspect of their own personalities to their characterizations.
Of course, the name Hubert Bonisseur de La Bath is a bit
of a Franco-linguistic mouthful to market successfully overseas.So, throughout the five films the character usually
assumes an Anglo-friendly alias which helps move things along a bit more
smoothly: he alternately assumes – among others - such covert surnames as
Landon, Barton, Delcroix, Wilson and Mulligan.It certainly makes his character’s many “personal” on-screen introductions
easier for all involved.
The Kino set starts off chronologically with 1963’s OSS 117 is Unleashed (original title OSS 117 se déchaîne).Like the four films to follow, the series
were all Franco-Italia co-productions and distributed by Gaumont Films.Unlike those four, OSS 117 is Unleashed is filmed in black-and-white.The monochrome photography is not really an
issue.But cinemagoers were certainly cheated
of enjoying the beautiful beaches and Cliffside scenery of the village of
Bonifacio (off the Corsican strait) in vibrant color.
In OSS 117 is
Unleashed our hero (American actor Kerwin Mathews, best known to American
audiences for his roles in Ray Harryhausen’s special-effect laden epics The 7th Voyage of Sinbad (1958) and The 3 Worlds of Gulliver (1960), is sent
to Corsica to investigate the suspicious death of a fellow agent.We’re told, suspiciously, there’s been, “lots
of accidents among agents near Bonifacio.”A preamble to the film, culled mostly of cold war era newsreel footage,
alerts that an unspecified enemy is working towards “neutralizing” free-world atomic
submarine movements in the area. With
conspirators tagged with such names as “Sacha” and “Boris,” we can reasonably
assume its east-of-the-Iron Curtain intelligence agents behind the plot.
Initially posing as a relative of the recently targeted
and now deceased CIA frogman (and later as a Lloyds of London insurance adjustor),
Mathews must dispatch and/or fend off a series of enemy agents and perhaps a duplicitous
woman.In due course, he survives a poisoning,
several (well-choreographed) hand-to-hand combat sequences and even a submerged
spear-gun and knifing frogman attack.The latter occurs while he’s search of a mysterious submerged
subterranean grotto.The base is outfitted
(as one might expect) with high-tech equipment and a detection system designed
to bring about “the end of atomic submarines.”The secreted grotto is also equipped with a built-in self-destruct
button… always handy, just in case.This
is all definitely Bond-on-a budget style filmmaking.Of course, the idea of covertly tracking atomic
submarines movements brings to mind the storyline of the far-more-lavishly
staged The Spy Who Loved Me (1977).
As far as I can determine, OSS 117 is Unleashed was never released theatrically in the
U.S.But Mathews’ second (and final) outing
as OSS 117, Panic in Bangkok (Banco à Bangkok pour OSS 117) (1964) would
have a belated release in the U.S. (as Shadow
of Evil) in December of 1966.Regardless,
Shadow of Evil was not exhibited as a
primary attraction in the U.S. market.It most often appeared as the under bill to Christopher Lee in The Brides of Fu Manchu or (more
sensibly) to Montgomery Clift’s political suspense-thriller The Defector.
In Panic in Bangkok,
Mathews is dispatched to Thailand to, once again, investigate the assassination
of a fellow agent.The murdered CIA operative
had been investigating a possible correlation between anti-cholera vaccines
produced by Bangkok’s Hogby Laboratories to an outbreak of a deadly plague in
India.The trail leads Mathews to
suspect a certain mysterious Dr. Sinn (Robert Hossein) is somehow involved.Unlike the previous film which lacked a singular
villain with a foreboding presence (ala Dr. No), the filmmakers offer
cinemagoers a more exotic adversary in Dr. Sinn.
Vinegar Syndrome has released a special edition of the 1968 whodunnit Western "5 Card Stud". It's an unusual title for the company, which generally specializes in releasing first rate special editions of obscure cult films and vintage erotica. The film was a follow-up project between veteran producer Hal Wallis and director Henry Hathaway, who had great success with their 1965 Western "The Sons of Katie Elder" which top-lined John Wayne and Dean Martin, who were reunited six years after co-starring in Howard Hawks' classic "Rio Bravo". "Stud" is by no means a classic, but it is a highly entertaining, offbeat entry in the genre, combining traditional Western elements with the novel idea of incorporating a plot concerning serial murders. Martin plays a character with a Hollywoodish name, Van Morgan. He's a professional gambler who finances his life and travels by dressing up like a dude and finding great success in the gambling parlors of Denver. In between games, he leads a low-key life in a small town of Ricon, Colorado, which is attracting miners intent on finding gold that is rumored to in the surrounding area. When the film opens, he is embroiled in a hard-fought game of poker with local men that extends well into the night. When one of the players is revealed to be cheating, the hot-headed Nick Evers (Roddy McDowell) overreacts and gets the other men to join him in tying up the culprit, riding him out by a nearby bridge to lynch him. Van attempts to stop the hanging, but Nick knocks him out with the butt of his pistol. Not much is done about the crime, since Nick is the son of beloved local cattle baron Sig Evers (Denver Pyle), a widower who runs the ranch with Nick and his sister Nora (Katherine Justice), who are both heirs to the cattle ranch. Nora clearly is smitten by Van, who is reluctant to formally court her, given the fact that she is a decent woman and he lives a somewhat indecent lifestyle. Things kick into gear when one-by-one the men who participated in the fateful poker game are murdered.
The plot is yet another example of Agatha Christie's classic suspense novel "Ten Little Indians" having influenced films of every type of genre. However, the script by the estimable Marguerite Roberts (who would collaborate with Wallis and Hathaway the next year for the triumphant "True Grit") gives the movie an unusual angle for a Western. Roberts had adapted a little-known novel titled "Glory Gulch" by Ray Gaulden and by all accounts took liberties to improve the story substantially. The movie comes to life with the introduction of the film's most dynamic character, the Reverend Rudd (Robert Mitchum), a gunslinging preacher who arrives out of nowhere to open the town's first chapel, determined to bring God into the lives of the town's hedonistic inhabitants. Rudd is a preacher in the fire-and-brimstone tradition. He's outwardly polite but also displays a healthy dose of cynicism. When one of the murders occurs in the chapel, he teams with Van to find the culprit as each of the poker players become increasingly paranoid that they might be the next victim.
The whodunnit aspect of the script is done away with when the identity of the killer is revealed well before the climax. The villain's identity won't come as a shock to any astute viewer, but it's an awful lot of fun watching the clues unravel. Martin was criticized by some reviewers for sleepwalking through his part, but it's an unfair criticism. He gives a perfectly fine performance even if he is upstaged by Mitchum in the meatier and more interesting role. Inger Stevens, in one of her final screen roles before tragically committing suicide at age 35, appears as Lily, a local madame who moves into town with her "girls" and opens a bordello disguised as an upscale tonsorial parlor, which results in some amusing dialogue and sight gags. Van finds himself torn between good girl Nora and the exotic bad girl Lily. The film boasts a marvelous cast of beloved character actors, some of whom only have bit roles. In addition to Denver Pyle, you can relish the presence of Yaphet Kotto, who is excellent in an early career performance. Other participants include John Anderson, Ruth Springford, Roy Jenson,Whit Bissell and Hope Summers, who was a regular on "The Andy Griffith Show". The only off-key note is provided by the miscast Roddy McDowell, who plays a villain in traditional Roddy McDowell style, with a quasi-English accent and an erudite manner that doesn't fit his role as a hard scrabbled cattle rancher. Hathaway's direction is spot-on and the film also offers a quirky musical score by Maurice Jarre that seems to emulate the music found in the Sergio Leone Westerns. We even get to hear Dino warble the catchy title song.
The Vinegar Syndrome release is highly impressive, having been newly scanned and restored in 4K from its original camera negative. Aside from a blurry few seconds in the opening poker game the rest of transfer is excellent. The sleeve has very creative artwork by Tony Stella that seems to pay tribute to the Italian movie poster designs of the era. (There is also reversible sleeve artwork that shows the stars.) There's a 16-page, amply illustrated collector's booklet with an excellent and informative essay by film historian Jim Healy, who astutely points out elements of the film noir genre that are interwoven in the movie. Historian Lizzie Francke provides an excellent video essay about the dramatic life and career of Marguerite Roberts, who managed to rebound after being blacklisted during the dark days of McCarthyism. Film critic Walter Chaw provides a video essay that is devoted entirely to the life and career of Henry Hathaway, and states the obvious: he was always underrated. There is also an impressive commentary track by film book author and Cinema Retro columnist Brian Hannan, who provides plenty of very interesting insights into the making of the film and the Western genre of the 1960s. (He points out that "5 Card Stud" was quite successful at the boxoffice.) As side note, Hannan also runs the addictive blog "The Magnificent 60s".
I don't know if there will be more films of this type released by Vinegar Syndrome, but I hope this isn't an aberration and that there will be more to follow, especially if they are presented in such a fine manner.
"Sweet November", released in 1968, came and went without generating
much enthusiasm from critics or the public. Produced the estimable team
of Jerry Gershwin and Elliott Kastner, who would go on to make "Where
Eagles Dare", the film is a romantic comedy set in Brooklyn Heights,
just across the river from Manhattan decades before the area was deemed
to be hip. Anthony Newley is Charlie Blake, a stuffy British import to
Gotham who is the workaholic president of a company that manufactures
cardboard boxes. You know the type: no time for love or laughs and just
perfect to be taught a life lesson by the right girl, who, in this case,
happens to be Sara Deever (Sandy Dennis), a 23 year-old independent
young woman who meets cute with Charlie while they both are taking a
test to renew their driver's licenses. As in all such scenarios, the
small talk is awkward and Charlie finds Sara to be wacky and annoying-
before discovering that her bizarre conversations are somewhat
intoxicating. Before long, they are pals and Sara brings him to her
apartment. She explains she's an artist who has found a way to act as a
de facto repair woman for other apartment dwellers, thus supplementing
her income. She also has unusual living arrangements. Every month, she
"adopts" a new man with emotional needs who gets to live with her for a
full month, during which time she serves as an amateur psychiatrist who
documents the progress (or lack there of) in bringing the temporary man
of the house to a better status than she found him in. At the end of
every month, the male tenant must leave to make room for his
replacement. Sara can discern that Charlie is an uptight nerd who is
also frustrated poet at heart. She convinces him to be her tenant for
November. Since Charlie owns his company, he's able to take the time
off, which serves as a reminder of nice things were before E- mails and
text messages came to rule the lives of executives.
Sara's modest flat provides some amusing sight gags: her bed is
located on a shaky platform accessible only by a even shakier ladder.
However, the perks of being her "Tenant of the Month" are that you don't
have to pay rent and you get to sleep with her, though the sexual
aspect of the relationship is only hinted at. Charlie finds Sara to be a
handful in terms of personality quirks. She has an opinion on
everything and likes to play "Mother Hen", advising her tenants about
how to improve their lives. Gradually, Charlie becomes intoxicated by
her innocence and good nature. She's Holly Golightly on steroids, as she
inspires him to explore his creative impulses, shed his business attire
and dress in the currently mod styles. Sara introduces Charlie to her
best friend, Alonzo (nicely played by Theodore Bikel), an artist and
local activist who serves as a father figure to her. Before long,
Charlie is madly in love with Sara and dreads the day when his eventual
departure will have to occur in order to accommodate her next tenant.
Until this point, "Sweet November" plays out like a sitcom of the era,
albeit with some nice footage of Brooklyn. Director Robert Ellis Miller
often encourages his stars to overplay the "cutesy" elements of their
characters. Sara is almost pretentiously quirky and Charlie displays a
fey personality and habits that were mostly associated with
stereotypical gay characters of the era. However, Herman Raucher's
script takes a somber turn in the last third of the film as Charlie
desperately convinces himself that Sara loves him as much as he loves
her. A dramatic twist is introduced that leads to a genuinely touching,
if unexpected finale. As the script grows darker, the two leads have
more to work with. Dennis brings a sensitivity to her performance as the
ultimate liberated woman and Newley (who generally displays more ham
than your local supermarket) eventually reigns in his comedic mannerisms
and redeems himself by making Charlie a more sympathetic figure.
"Sweet November" has all the trappings of a stage play that was
adapted to a film. In fact, it is not, although one can easily see it
translated into a theater production, as most of the scenes take place
in an apartment. The script was considered to be a hot property back in
the day and Audrey Hepburn was said to have been interested in starring
in the film. It enjoyed a prestigious opening at Radio City Music Hall
but critics were dismissive of the movie, though the influential New
York Times almost begrudgingly acknowledged a positive recommendation.
The film quickly disappeared until 2001 when it was remade starring
Keanu Reeves and Charlize Theron, though that film failed at the
boxoffice as well. Despite its unenviable legacy, "Sweet November" is a
touching film that will probably please most retro movie lovers. It is
currently available as a region-free DVD through the Warner Archive.
CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM THE CINEMA RETRO MOVIE STORE
In this appearance on "The Dick Cavett Show", director Blake Edwards shows some of his prized bloopers from the set of "A Shot in the Dark" starring Peter Sellers as Inspector Clouseau. Even the normally dour George Sanders can't resist cracking up!
Dan Blocker, who played the gentle giant Hoss Cartwright on "Bonanza", rarely gave personal interviews but he made an exception in 1971, sitting down with entertainment journalist Bobby Wygant. Blocker discusses his travels, his prediction for the show's future and family aspects of life Tragically, he would die the very next year at age 43.
In
“Man-Eater of Kumaon,” a 1948 feature now available on Blu-ray from Kino Lorber
Studio Classics, Dr. John Collins (Wendell Corey) undertakes an ill-fated
big-game hunt in the distant land of the movie’s title—an actual region of
India in the Himalayan foothills, not a fantasy world orbiting somewhere
between planets Coruscant and Dune as the exotic name might suggest nowadays.Stalking a tiger in the underbrush, Collins
inflicts an agonizing but not fatal injury as his bullet severs one of the
tiger’s toes.His Indian guides warn
that the wounded tiger will begin attacking and killing humans, and they urge
him to finish what he started.But the
American doesn’t
feel particularly responsible for the villagers now at the mercy of the
carnivore.In his case, it’s less a
matter of Western chauvinism than a general lack of empathy for other people
whatever their ethnicity, a shortcoming that cost him his marriage back in the
States.
After
recovering from an onset of malaria, Collins plans to try his luck inSumatra next.But the tiger has already begun its depredations, and on his way to
Delhi, the hunter encounters a little boy, Panwah, orphaned by the big
cat.Collins conveys the child to a
nearby village, where he is taken in by a young couple, Narain (Sabu) and Lali
(Joanne Page), whom the American befriends.In part, we infer, he becomes close to the loving couple because they
remind him of what he lost back home when his wife divorced him.Still, he resists the idea that, having
turned the tiger into a killer of humans, it’s up to him to restore peace and
security by finishing the job—until the attacks become personal when Lali is
badly mauled while saving Panwah.
“Man-Eater
of Kumaon” was loosely based on a best-selling memoir by big-game hunter Jim
Corbett, who in real life was neither an American nor a disenchanted
physician.This wasn’t the first or last
instance of filmmakers purchasing a popular book, keeping the title for name
recognition, and throwing out most everything else.Unlike many books and films that have
glorified big-game hunting as a macho rite of passage, the dilemma facing John
Collins is a crisis of conscience, not a challenge to his ability to secure a
trophy head.Still, animal-rights
advocates and conservationists are likely to be disturbed by scenes of the
hunter pointing his rifle at the tiger whatever the context.Now, laws would require that the cat be
tranquillised as the first resort and relocated to another habitat away from
humans, not killed.Aside from Sabu, all
the Indians in the story are portrayed by non-Indian actors, a practice that
wouldn’t begin to change for another ten years, when Kamala Devi and I.S Johar
appeared in prominent supporting roles in another movie about ferocious
felines, “Harry Black and the Tiger” (1958).Arguing that studios should have been more inclusive in the 1940s is a
little like contending that Ford’s Theatre should have had metal detectors in
1865.Nevertheless, it’s still a hurdle
for many viewers today, accustomed as we’ve become to the routine presence of
Indian and Indian-American actors in contemporary TV shows and movies, although
critically beloved classics like “Gunga Din” and “Black Narcissus” often seem
to get a pass in this regard.
Well
acted by the always dependable Wendell Corey and capably directed by Byron
Haskin (better known to Sci-Fi enthusiasts for 1953’s “The War of the Worlds”
and six episodes of “The Outer Limits” in 1963-64), “Man-Eater of Kumaon” shows
to good advantage in the new Blu-ray from Kino Lorber.The movie was filmed in black and white by
acclaimed cinematographer William C. Mellor, a choice that may have been
necessitated by the budgetary logistics of incorporating old B&W stock
footage into new shots of a tiger prowling through a backlot jungle set, but it
serves a dramatic purpose too.Mellor’s
glistening daytime shots and hi-def, misty nocturnal compositions underscore a
Film Noir quality in the plot, as fate manoeuvres John Collins into an
initially reluctant, then fiercely resigned showdown with the hostile force of
nature represented by the rogue tiger.Special features on the Blu-ray include several trailers for other
jungle movies and Wendell Corey pictures available from Kino Lorber, a
spirited audio commentary by David Del Valle and Dan Marino and reversible sleeve artwork.
"RETRO-ACTIVE: ARTICLES FROM THE CINEMA RETRO ARCHIVE"
By Lee Pfeiffer
We must admit that when it comes to showcasing bad movies, Cinema Retro is a bit provincial in that we tend to concentrate on misfires from English language cinema. But why not spread the wealth? After all, there are bad movies being made in every language. The good reaction we got from running the 1959 Mexican "Santa Claus" film has now inspired us to honor a bad Turkish flick, the 1972 crime thriller "Kareteci Kiz", of which we have only seen the death scene depicted here. If there is a worse scene showing the demise of a movie villain, we've yet to see it but your intrepid staffers will keep pursuing the quest. This also has the bonus of including what is probably the worst movie fight scene of all time. It's accompanied in part by some brief snippets from Hugo Montenegro's hot-selling 1966 cover version of "The Man from U.N.C.L.E." theme, thus illustrating the benefits to producers who don't have to worry about such nit-picky aspects of film making such as obtaining intellectual property rights. Enjoy!
British advertisement for the 1961 double feature of "Gold of the Seven Saints" starring Clint Walker and Roger Moore and "The White Warrior" starring Steve Reeves.
In this memorable scene from the 1969 classic "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid", Paul Newman makes short work of his seemingly undefeatable opponent, Ted Cassidy.
In this excerpt from an interview with Ben Mankiewicz from Turner Classic Movies, Jerry Lewis recalls his reunion with Dean Martin after not having spoken to him in 20 years. Here is the famous reunion moment from Jerry's 1976 Muscular Dystrophy telethon:
A dissatisfied housewife brings home a stranded alien and
gradually falls in love, high school students live in fear after a beautiful student
is found dead, her back snapped across the gymnasium balance beam, a young teen
dates the enigmatic daughter of a mad scientist, in one town aliens have
actually become part of the community and started attending the local school, a
late-night DJ picks up signals from across space which appear to be from his
recently abducted wife, the real Creature from the Black Lagoon finds himself
working in Hollywood and falling for Julie Adams, teens on Lover’s Lane find
themselves fighting back against a potential alien invasion, and mysterious
video tapes show the real Bela Lugosi in films made by Ed Wood that cannot
possibly exist, given that he had died years before.
This new collection of stories by Dale Bailey (some of
which were previously published in magazines including Asimov’s Science
Fiction and Lightspeed) draws on his own memories of half-watched movies
on late-night TV and reading articles in Fangoria. Perhaps because of
this many of the stories are told as if distant, troubling memories are being
reluctantly recalled. Although the cover art may suggest a fun,
nostalgia-tinged trip back to the fifties, these are stories infused with loss,
grief and melancholy; one man recalls visiting his dead brother’s apartment in
Hollywood, trying to understand how they drifted apart, another, whose wife has
been missing since he claims to have witnessed her being taken up into the sky,
can no longer fully connect with the people around him, a young wife lives in a
trailer park struggling to overcome the tragedy of her baby daughter dying just
minutes after birth, and the Creature tries to reconcile his feelings for Julie
Adams with his desperate need to return to the swamps. These are people whose
lives have not turned out the way they had hoped, trying to understand and come
to terms with their frightening, life-changing experiences. Yet at the same
time, Dale, not forgetting what most of us are here for, combines B-movie
tropes and titles such as ‘Invasion of the Saucer-Men', ‘The Ghoul Goes West’, ‘Night
Caller from Outer Space’ and ‘I Was a Teenage Werewolf’, with humour,
real-world heartbreak and longing.
This hardback collection, published by Electric
Dreamhouse, is a wonderful read for any classic movie fan. Each story is
accompanied by a suitably pulpy illustration (dome-headed aliens, slavering
werewolves and pulchritudinous heroines appear to be Sheady’s specialty), and
the book cover is a work of art in itself, packed with imagery from many
drive-in movies, and not just those referenced in the book. These are stories
that will linger in your mind long after reading, much like the tragic tales
themselves have lingered in the minds of their respective narrators.
Simpson publicity photo for the "Naked Gun" film series. (Photo: Paramount.)
By Lee Pfeiffer
O.J. Simpson, the American football Hall of Fame honoree who went on to develop a successful acting career, has died of cancer at age 76. In 1994, Simpson became the key suspect in the murder of his ex-wife Nicole and her friend Ron Goldman. The resulting trial became one of the most riveting of the modern era with TV audiences following every aspect of his case. The ensuing mania involving Simpson's fate elevated some people associated with the case to prominence while destroying the reputations of others. Although there was considerable evidence tying Simpson to the murders and the fact that he tried to escape police in a notorious and bizarre slow-moving car chase through Los Angeles, the case took on racial elements that divided the nation. For many Black people, Simpson's ultimate acquittal represented a rare case of justice being delivered to a member of their community. White viewers were largely convinced that Simpson had literally gotten away with murder. The "must-see" TV element of the case often overshadowed the fact that it was about two people who had been brutally murdered, as defense attorneys, prosecutors and even the judge became immediate media sensations. When the verdict was announced, America seemed to come to a standstill while everyone found a TV or radio to gather around during the pre-social media era. Simpson's acquittal didn't end his troubles. He was found liable in a civil case for the deaths and was ordered to pay Ron Goldman's family substantial damages. Simpson went to great lengths to avoid doing so, as Goldman's father used media sources to relentlessly hound him. In his post-trial years, Simpson maintained a low key persona, though comedians would often scoff at his public commitment to track down "the real killer".
After leaving football as a true legend, Simpson successfully built an acting career. Although he was never a major boxoffice draw as a leading man, he was very popular in supporting roles. He appeared in such films as "Capricorn One", along with Hollywood royalty in the 1974 blockbuster "The Towering Inferno" as well as the star-studded "The Cassandra Crossing" before co-starring with Leslie Nielsen in the "Naked Gun" trilogy, adeptly playing a hapless, accident-prone detective. Simpson's acting career and role as a popular TV pitchman were casualties of his murder trial and work in the entertainment field dried up even though he had been found not guilty. Simpson was back in the news again some years later when he was arrested and convicted of an armed robbery connected to his attempt to reclaim sports memorabilia that he said had been stolen from him. Simpson would serve nine years in prison for the crime.
In 1971, director Don Siegel and Clint Eastwood teamed again for the offbeat Gothic Civil War drama "The Beguiled" which daringly cast Eastwood in a villainous role. Universal wasn't happy with the finished film and launched a deceptive print campaign implying the movie was a typical Eastwood action flick, a tactic that appalled Eastwood and Siegel. Not helping matters was the cornball narration of this original trailer. The film has been re-evaluated over the decades and now ranks as a major achievement in both men's careers.
Richard Attenborough wins the Best Director and Best Picture Oscars for "Gandhi" at the 1983 Academy Awards. When listening to Walter Matthau and Carol Burnett announce the nominees, try to absorb just how many great films were nominated in this one year.
Cinema Retro has received the following press release from Blue Underground:
On April 23rd, Blue Underground releases Goodbye
Uncle Tom, one of the most graphic and notorious films ever made, on
Limited Edition 4K UHD and Blu-Ray.
Originally released in 1971, Goodbye Uncle Tom is
an Italian mondo-docudrama based on true events about the rise and revolt of
slavery in America.
Directors Gualtiero Jacopetti and Franco
Prosperi (Mondo Cane) used period documentation and historical
accounts to recreate the antebellum south and the horrors of the slave
trade. The film was so shocking in its detailed look at the atrocities of
slavery that distributors in the US forced Jacopetti and Prosperi to cut it and
radically re-edit the film before release.
Even in its truncated form, Goodbye Uncle Tom created
a stir amongst critics. Roger Ebert called it, “… the most
disgusting, contemptuous insult to decency ever to masquerade as a
documentary.” while Pauline Kael said, “the most specific and rabid
incitement to race war," and The Detroit Chronicle hailed it as
"a graphic, moving, nerve-paralyzing film."
Goodbye Uncle Tom can
now be seen more than five decades after its initial release in both its
original uncut Italian version, alongside its drastically different English
version, both fully restored in 4K from their original camera negatives.
Includes a bonus Blu-ray disc with a wealth of supplemental features that give
context to the staggering and violent look back at this horrific chapter of
American history.
The 4K UHD and Blu-ray Extras special features include
feature-length documentaries; never-before-seen interviews with
writers/directors Gualtiero Jacopetti, Franco Prosperi, composer Riz Ortolani
and others; rare behind-the-scene footage; English and Italian trailers; still
galleries, including Giampaolo Lomi’s behind-the-scenes photos; a bonus CD of
the Original Motion Picture Soundtrack by Riz Ortolani; and a collectible
booklet.
Burt Reynolds had been gnawing around the boundaries of genuine stardom for more than a decade, starring in short-lived television shows and top-lining "B" movies. He ingratiated himself to the American public by showcasing his wit and comedic abilities by appearing on chat shows. In 1972, he struck gold when director John Boorman cast him opposite Jon Voight as the two male leads in the sensational film adaptation of James Dickey's "Deliverance". Finally, he could be classified as a major movie star. Soon, Reynolds was cranking out major films even while his uncanny ability to publicize himself resulted in such stunts as his famed provocative centerfold pose in Cosmopolitan magazine. On screen, Reynolds sensed that he could cultivate an especially enthusiastic audience if he catered to rural movie-goers. He was proven right with the release of "White Lightning", a highly enjoyable 1973 action/comedy that perfectly showcased Reynolds' favored image as a handsome, unflappable hero with a Bondian knack for tossing off quips while facing death and also engaging in good ol' boy towel-snapping humor. Playing bootlegger Gator McClusky, Reynolds drew major crowds, very much pleasing United Artists, which enjoyed hefty profits from the modestly-budgeted production. Reynolds learned, however, that his audience wouldn't necessarily follow him if he deviated from that image. When he went against the grain in films like "The Man Who Loved Cat Dancing", "At Long Last Love" and "Lucky Lady", the movies bombed. When he stuck to the basics, he had hits with "Shamus", "The Longest Yard" and "W.W. and the Dixie Dance Kings". The legendary Variety headline that read "Hix Nix Stix Pix" was no longer true. The American heartland loved Burt Reynolds, especially when he played characters that rural audiences could embrace.
In 1976, Reynolds fulfilled another career milestone by directing his first feature film, a sequel to "White Lightning" titled "Gator". Like the first movie, it was shot entirely on location in Georgia and picked up on the adventures of everyone's favorite moonshiner. When we first see Gator in the sequel, he his getting out of jail only to be targeted by the feds to be used as a pawn in a multi-state crackdown on an epidemic of political corruption that threatens the career of the self-serving, ambitious governor (played very well by famed chat show host Mike Douglas in his big screen debut.) Gator is living in a shack located deep in an inhospitable swamp with his elderly father and precocious 9 year-old daughter when the feds launch a major raid to arrest him on moonshining charges. In reality, they want to use the warrant as leverage to convince him to go undercover for them inside the crime ring. Gator wants no part of it and leads the feds on a merry chase around the bayou in which he is pursued by speed boats and helicopters before finally relenting. The lead federal agent in charge is Irving Greenfield (Jack Weston), an overweight, hyper-nervous Jewish guy from Manhattan who has the unenviable task of ensuring that Gator follows orders. A good portion of the film's laugh quotient comes from Irving's less-than-convincing attempts to "blend in" with small town southern locals. The crime ring is run by Bama McCall (Jerry Reed), an outwardly charming and charismatic fellow who, in reality, uses brutally violent methods to ensure loyalty and intimidate local businessmen to pay protection money. He and Gator are old acquaintances and he doesn't hesitate to give Gator a good-paying job as an enforcer for his mob. Things become more intriguing when Gator sets eyes on Aggie Maybank (Lauren Hutton), an attractive local TV anchor with liberal political beliefs that find her squaring off against Bama in order to protect the poor merchants he is exploiting. "Gator" proceeds on a predictable path but its predictability doesn't detract from its merits, which are considerable. Reynolds is a joy to watch and it's small wonder he leaped to the top ranks of cinematic leading men. His cocky, self-assured persona served him well on the big screen and "Gator" is custom-made to please his core audience. He also proved to be a very able director, handling the action scenes and those of unexpected tragic twists with equal skill. He also gets very good performances from his eclectic cast, with Weston engaging in his usual penchant for scene-stealing. Reed also shines in a rare villainous role and ex-model Hutton proves she has admirable acting chops, as well. The action scenes are impressive thanks to the oversight of the legendary Hal Needham, who would forge a long-time collaborative relationship with Reynolds.
The Kino Lorber Blu-ray is a reissue with extras from the 2018 release ported over. The new additional material consists of a commentary track by film historians Steve Mitchell and Nathaniel Thompson, who also provide a new track on the KL reissue of "White Lightning". The track is quite valuable and entertaining, as old pros Mitchell and Thompson provide a wealth of interesting facts and observations about the film. For example, they discuss that "Gator" is far lighter in tone than the revenge thriller "White Lightning" and say that Reynolds thought the script for "Gator" was sub-par but did the film on the proviso he could direct it. The disc is also impressive not only because of the excellent transfer but also because it contains a filmed interview with Reynolds, who extols the film's virtues and its personal meaning to him. In an unusually candid conversation, he divulges amusing anecdotes about Hutton's on-set quirks that included a penchant for exhibitionism (she would flash her breasts to appreciative crew members.) He also relates how a car crash stunt almost killed Hal Needham. Most poignantly, he talks about his personal affection for Georgia, a state he has filmed over twenty movies in. He also candidly expresses his regret that only directed a few films and never fulfilled his dream of directing productions he didn't star in. The Blu-ray set also includes a new gallery of trailers for Reynolds films available from KL. In all, a highly impressive release of an action film showcasing Reynolds at his best. Recommended.
Cult director Bert I. Gordon was at the helm
for this terrifying story of supernatural passion. Set on an island in a
tight-knit community, Tom Stewart (Richard Carlson) is preparing to marry the
woman he loves. All is well until Tom's old girlfriend, Vi (Juli Reding), confronts him at
the top of the island's lighthouse, claiming he can only be hers! A freak
accident throws the scorned woman to her death. At first relieved, Tom's tune
changes when her vengeful spirit begins to follow him wherever he goes. He's
soon tormented, body and soul, by an unforgiving she-ghost! What lengths will
Tom go to in order to protect his secret? Will the vengeful Vi finally reveal
herself to the others at hand?
And the scene is pretty much set for a quite
wonderful slice of low- budgeted shenanigans. Bert I. Gordon was of course a
master of his art in this particular genre of filmmaking. Starting off in
advertising using his trusted 16mm camera, Gordon wasn’t one to sit back and
wait for success, instead he chased his dream, and as a result accomplished a
pretty good career in movies. He’s best known for writing and directing science
fiction and horror B-movie classics such as King Dinosaur (1955), The Amazing
Colossal Man (1957), Earth vs. the Spider (1958), Village of the Giants (1965),
and later the Joan Collins fun fest Empire of the Ants (1977).
In the late 50’s, ghostly supernatural films
were building in popularity, movies such as Roger Corman’s The Undead (1957),
Edward L. Cahn’s Voodoo Women (1957) and William Castle’s House on Haunted Hill
(1959) signified a change in trends. Gordon was always astute and possessed a good
sense of understanding when it came to successful box office. And so, following
the current trend, Gordon embarked upon his own ghost story in the form of
Tormented (1960). Starring Richard Calson, the actor that had already
established himself in genre classics such as The Maze (1953), It Came from
Outer Space (1953) and Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954). Carlson engages
in the fun like a seasoned pro. He’s supported by former child star, Lugene
Sanders, the marvellously formed Juli Reding, child actress Susan Gordon
(daughter of the director) and a young, hip Joe Turkel – who appeared in Stanley
Kubrick's The Killing (1956), Paths of Glory (1957), and later in The Shining
(1980). Aside from being hugely enjoyable throughout, this Film Masters 4K restoration
looks absolutely perfect. Stark, sharp and beautiful on the eye, the amount of
work afforded to this rather cheaply made movie really elevates it to a much
higher level. Blacks are nice and deep, and the images contains just the right
amount of grain without over-cooking it. There seems to be a couple of very
minor jump cuts along the way – best rest assured, blink at the right time and
they’re pretty much undetectable. The print shows no wear, scratches and
virtually free of dust and dirt spots. The audio clarity is also clean and
bright in both DTS and the Dolby digital track. It’s very obvious that the
efforts in restoring this film have really paid off and the results are hard to
fault.
But this Film Masters release offers so much
more – you really have to praise the package as a whole, there’s really no skimping
or cutting corners in terms of its content. Firstly, and as we have come to
expect with the Film Masters releases, there’s an interesting and insightful
commentary track by historian, writer and filmmaker Gary Rhodes along with
contributions by Larry Blamire. The track is a detailed and informative
education. There is an all too brief featurette, Bert I. Gordon: The Amazing
Colossal Filmmaker – which features an archival interview with the charismatic
director who provides us with a general overview of how he began in the
business of movies. Then there is Bigger Than Life: Bert I. Gordon in the
1950’s and 1960’s, a Ballyhoo Motion Pictures documentary featuring film
historian C. Courtney Joyner. This documentary provides a great insight into
the director’s career, with plenty of clips, stories, trailers, poster art and
rare photos illustrated throughout – a real joy. For the more serious scholars,
there is an enjoyable visual essay by The Flying Maciste Brothers (Howard S.
Berger and Kevin Marr). The Spirit is Willing: CineMagic and Social Discord in Bert
I. Gordon’s Tormented, offers a much deeper analysis of the movie and its
implications – which is fine should you want to delve into that particular
territory. At the other end of the spectrum, Film Masters also offers the whole
film again, this time in the form of the Mystery Science Theater 2000 version
(1992). There’s no disputing the fact that these presentations are purely
produced as a put down or a ‘roasting’ for light-hearted entertainment – which is
fine if this is your thing. At least Film Masters has again had the foresight
to cover all areas, and provide something for everyone – dependent upon your
particular taste. One thing I did find particularly interesting during this
version is that it contains the original opening Allied Artists title –
something that was missing from the restored main feature version. There are two
Tormented trailers included, an original ‘raw’35mm version and a 2024 re-cut
version using restored element. Again, a nice way of satisfy all audiences with
both the old and the new, and I’m fully behind that way of thinking. Also
included on the disc is an ‘unreleased TV pilot’ of Famous Ghost Stories
featuring Vincent Price. I was initially quite excited about viewing this, as
it tied in nicely with Tormented because the episode again starred Richard
Calson and Susan Gordon. So, I was a little disappointed to discover that this
was not the full episode and instead was simply just the opening and closing
intro and outro clips featuring Vincent Price. The entire show would hade been
a real treat if included. But overall, this minor quibble takes nothing away
from what is a very generous collection of extras.
On top of that, Film Masters have also
included a nicely produced 22-page illustrated booklet with essays by respected
film historian Tom Weaver and novelist/filmmaker John Wooley. The film sleeve
and booklet cover make good use of the original film artwork.
Film Masters have produced
an excellent package with their presentation of Tormented. The company seems to
grow from strength to strength with each of their new releases. It’s a rare
feeling to feel genuinely excited when considering what might be waiting around
the next corner. I can only hope it’s more of the same.