By Don L. Stradley

One forgets how busy Leonard Nimoy was during the early and mid ‘70s. There’s a tendency to think he vanished once his three year hitch as Mister Spock on NBC’s Star Trek was over, but he was everywhere for a while, acting in Mission: Impossible, lending his voice to the classic show In Search Of…, writing books of poetry, and even recording albums. Granted, his demonic eyebrows and somber voice limited him to some degree – he would always seem otherworldly - but he had an undeniable star quality.

In late January of 1973, Nimoy starred in Baffled!, an NBC Tuesday Night Movie of the Week. It was projected as a possible TV series, where Nimoy would play Tom Kovack, a race car driver who survives a crash but returns from his near death experience with the ability to see visions of the future. Unfortunately, the idea didn’t take off. By the year’s end, Nimoy was supplying the voice of Spock for a Star Trek animated series. He never quite escaped the role that made him famous, but in Baffled!, he appeared to be trying very hard to create a new character. Now available on DVD from Scorpion Releasing, viewers can judge Baffled! for themselves and decide whether Nimoy could’ve succeeded in another series.

The movie starts with the crash. Kovack is roaring around a speedway when he begins hallucinating that a Victorian manor has popped up in the middle of the track. His car spins out; he goes flying through the air, and the next thing we know he’s being interviewed on a talk show. He discusses his visions, but stops short of saying he has ESP. Meanwhile, a paranormal expert named Michelle Brent (Susan Hampshire) contacts him, believing Kovack is blessed with special powers. Soon, Kovack and Brent are in England, investigating a complicated case involving a weird family, a mansion that may or may not be haunted, and some sort of curse involving a wolf’s head insignia.

At its best, Baffled! feels a bit like other ‘70s shows such as Night Gallery and The Sixth Sense. It even owes a bit to The Avengers, minus the cheeky, swingin’ London vibe. At its worst, Baffled! is a bit dry and takes too long to get from one point to the next. It was directed by Phiip Leacock, a television veteran who specialized in one-hour shows like The Waltons. At times, Baffled! feels like an hour show padded out to make a feature length piece. One wonders if NBC opted out of the series because of the slowness of the movie, rather than looking at Nimoy’s potential.

The flaws of the movie aside, Nimoy is fun to watch here. He tries to be the kind of wise-cracking leading man that series television required in those days, and even pulls off a few action scenes. NBC may have missed a good bet when they didn’t pick this one up 40 years ago. With some care, it could’ve worked.

The Scorpion Releasing DVD includes the UK version of Baffled!, which is 89 minutes long (The US version is 99 minutes). It’s presented in full screen for, after all, it was a TV show. There are also some trailers for other Scorpion DVD releases, including a nice clip of Peter Bogdanovich’s Saint Jack. If for no other reason, the disc is worth a look to see Nimoy battling his way out of Spock’s shadow.

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By Lee Pfeiffer

Ballroom Confidential is a modestly-budgeted 2013 documentary production by director Brian Lilla. The film centers on Caleb Young, a 44 year-old gay man who found himself drifting through life without any clear cut ambitions or plans. He was trying to cope with the tragedy of having lost the "love of his life" due to a terminal illness. Young was living in Manhattan when the 9/11 attacks occurred and shook him emotionally. He ended up settling in Florida where his mother inspired him to do something tangible with his talents as a dancer. Young had made a living as a professional entertainer and drag performer mostly in gay venues. Inspired by his mother's confidence but financially broke, he cobbled together enough funds to open up the Absolutely Ballroom salon in Ormond Beach where he quickly established himself as a popular dance instructor. The movie opens with Caleb and choreographer Joe Mounts rehearsing with their students for a much-anticipated one night production of a fun, spy-themed show that will play for a local audience comprised of family and friends of those who are performing in the show. (The dance studio is adorned with some really cool James Bond international movie posters.)  Overwhelmingly, the students are elderly women, most of whom have been widowed. For them, ballroom dancing is the elixir of life, acting as a diversion for what might otherwise be a lonely existence. Caleb's mother appears throughout, as she is one of the performers in the show. Amusingly, she is joined by her husband (Caleb's step-father), a macho guy who initially rejected ballroom dancing on the basis that it was too feminine. By the end of the film, however, he's as dedicated as any of the ladies in ensuring that the show must go on. 

Director Lilla is working with a bare bones budget and virtually all of the action is understandably confined to the dance studio or the homes of some of the students. They are an amusing assortment of people and the friendships they have formed which each other are readily apparent. There are shy ladies, divas and hams...but all of them seem very charming. The film is often quite moving, especially in sequences in which some of the women describe how the loss of a long-time spouse has a devastating impact on the remaining partner. It's also rather touching to see ladies in their 80s and 90s getting dolled up to star as glamour girls in the big production. The film is a valentine to the art of dance and never takes any cheap shots at any of the participants, no matter how eccentric some may be. It is also rather amusing to see Joe Mounts, a burly bear of a guy who would look more at home in a Scorsese movie, delicately dancing with and instructing his students. As the countdown towards the opening night continues to tick, the pressure on everyone continues to build until opening night finally arrives. 

Ballroom Confidential is a sweet and touching film that looks at the best aspects of human behavior and presents its participants in a dignified light. Caleb Young is an ingratiating fellow who has obviously brought great joy to his community through giving elderly people a renewed sense of purpose in their lives and that, more so than any specific dance production, is probably the legacy he can be most proud of.  

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By Lee Pfeiffer 

Vinegar Syndrome has released another "Peekarama" double feature of hardcore retro porn from the 1970s. In the amusingly garish packaging, it promises both features are "Full Color, Widescreen" as though the productions were directed by John Ford. First up is Deep Roots, which has to be the only attempt to mingle Alex Haley's landmark bestseller and TV mini-series with the peculiar oral talents of Linda Lovelace. Such creative marketing has long been a mainstay of the porn business which always incorporated the latest social phenomenons into grind house productions. Remember On Golden Blonde and Romancing the Bone?  Deep Roots presents top-liner Jesse Chacan as Billy, a beefy, good-looking Native American guy who is bored with life on the reservation. He inherits a house in L.A. and decides to move there. The opening sequences actually boast some real production values and some relatively impressive camerawork as we watch Billy drive his motorcycle through the city streets then do the tourist bit on foot. There's a retro kitsch appeal to seeing him walking through the big city and admiring a wax figure of Paul Newman and John Wayne's hand print at Grauman's. 'lest the audience gets too restless, however, things start moving fast for Billy in the romance department. He picks up a free-spirited, buxom hippie girl  and within minutes she's stark naked and being body-painted by him. (This was the '70s, after all.) Billy has an eye for another nubile young girl but her reluctance to surrender her virginity to him results in him seducing her sexually insatiable girlfriend. So much for Billy getting in touch with his feminine side. The "plot" follows its leading man as he samples a seemingly endless array of willing women. Thrown in out of nowhere is a subplot featuring a forty-something cougar who looks like the love child of Mae West and Dolly Parton. The whole film ends up in an orgy sequence hosted by a guy dressed like Groucho Marx(!) For reasons unexplained, Billy finds the prospect of having free sex numerous times a day with good looking women to be difficult to cope with so, in the film's abbreviated finale, he returns to his previously-discarded girlfriend on the reservation. Presumably, he's matured quite a bit...and now also knows how to incorporate the image of Groucho Marx into erotic bedroom sessions. Deep Roots ("Deeper Than "Throat"...More Powerful Than "Roots" read the poster) is average retro porn fare from the era, if not a grade above a lot of the "one reelers" produced during the period. The women did not have to undergo Botox treatment in those days and, thus, they really do look like a girl who could live next door. (Though unfortunately, never next door to me.) As the male lead, Jesse Chacan's performance is up to par in the physical sense but he has all the charisma of Ted Cassidy's Lurch. The DVD transfer looks pretty good with rich colors and a minimum of splotches on screen. 

Starlet Nights, also released in 1978, treads the (even then) cliched path of adopting famous fairy tales as porn movies. In this case, Snow White (Candy Nichols) is an innocent 19 year old girl who is fawned over by her father, a successful Beverly Hills physician. Snow's stepmother (porn legend Leslie Bovee) is jealous of the attention her husband gives to his daughter and schemes to discredit her virginal image by luring her into a sex orgy that dad will presumably witness when he comes home from work. The trappings of the Snow White legend are awkwardly interwoven in the tale. Every character has a name derived from the fairy tale and the wicked step mom consults a variety of wizards who reside in her bedroom mirror. She ultimately succeeds in getting Snow into the sex movie industry but her jealousy only increases when she becomes a major prospect for stardom. As with Deep Roots, everything comes to a head (so to speak) in the orgy sequence, but the step mom's plans go awry here when her hubby has to attend a business meeting overnight, thus being deprived of witnessing Snow's depraved behavior. Not one to waste a good orgy, the step mom gets in to the mode and the action heats up. Like Deep Roots, there are some effective production values in Starlet Nights, which was supposedly directed by a woman named Lisa Barr, but in reality was directed by a guy named Joseph Bardo who used the nom de plume for marketing purposes. ("A Woman Porn Director????") There are some good L.A. location shots including sequences filmed outside major studios. (Retro geeks will enjoy seeing huge billboards for "current" movies like Close Encounters of the Third Kind.) The performances are all dreadful but the sex scenes are genuinely erotic and there are even some original pop music songs on the soundtrack that rise to the level of "not as bad as you might have expected." The DVD transfer is quite good but there are plenty of artifacts from where the reel changes took place. However, these just add to the flavor of watching a genuine grind house double feature. 

In all, another enjoyable release from Vinegar Syndrome.

By Don L. Stradley

My heart raced a bit when LaShonda, Cinema Retro’s inter-office mail carrier, dropped off a new title from Vinegar Syndrome this morning. Those fellows specialize in long forgotten’70s sleaze, and while most of their titles should probably remain forgotten, their latest "lost treasure" was the enticingly titled Game Show Models. The models, I imagined, would frolic in bikinis and enjoy a few pillow fights before revealing their true identities as secret agents, or something along those lines. I thanked LaShonda, locked the door, and plunked the disc into the machine.

Game Show Models, to my dismay, isn't even about models. It's about a young man named Stuart Goober (John Vickory) who left his girlfriend to pursue his vague dreams of success. She’d seemed like a decent, free-loving sort, the kind of young woman who paints her face and dances in the street for money, but Goober has given himself a five-year plan and time is running out, baby. As written, Goober is one of those Sweet Smell of Success schemers who wants to scratch his way to the top, but director/writer David Gottlieb cast Vickory, a soft spoken, Peter Fonda/Michael Sarrazin type. Vickory isn’t fiery enough to make us believe he gives a damn about making it big. He seems more like a coffee shop hippie.

Things pick up a bit when the aptly named Goober gets a job with a Los Angeles public relations agency. The firm’s latest client is Cici Sheridan (Diane Sommerfield), a young rock & roll singer surrounded by family members and a stone-faced posse, each determined to protect her from the dangers of show biz. After quizzing the agency goons on the names of the seven dwarves from Snow White, Cici inexplicably falls for Goober. Well, so much for the models.

One of the original tag-lines for the film read: 'You've seen them give out the prizes on Daytime TV - Now see the Goodies they give out at Night!' Yet, there's not much model action here. There is some nudity and some sex, including the opening scene where a guy makes his model girlfriend wear a Japanese mask while they make love (similar, incidentally, to the mask in Kaneto Shindô's Onibaba, a great 1964 movie you should watch instead of this one). Full disclosure: I'm not a great judge of sex scenes. Even the best of them look dumb to me. The only sex scene I've ever really liked was a five-second lesbian scene in The Last Emperor. In that one, the girls looked like they were having fun, and it didn't go on for so long that they ran out of ideas. In Game Show Models, we get a lot of grimacing, and groping, and of course, the Onibaba mask.

By the end, Goober is disillusioned by show business and seeks out his old girlfriend, the one who danced in the street. Naturally, she's already shacked up with someone new, but she invites Goober to join in on one of her interpretive dances. Cue the bittersweet theme music, roll the final credits, and get us the hell out of here.

Game Show Models is an uneven mess, but it isn't entirely without merit. The film has a nice, ‘Vaseline on the lens’ mid-70s look, thanks to cinematographer Alan Capps, and there’s a lot of great LA scenery. The game show set, loaded with brilliant pinks and yellows, is a kitschy marvel, as is the PR firm, which is an explosion of craggy men wearing ugly neckties and gemstone rings the size of dinosaur eggs.

The supporting cast is pretty interesting, too. Well-known character actors Dick Miller and Sid Melton steal every scene they’re in. Diane Thomas, who would go on to become a successful screenwriter before her death in a 1985 car crash, is touching as Josie, Goober’s dancing girlfriend. LA Times entertainment editor Charles Champlin has a funny cameo as himself. Meanwhile, Cici's entourage includes Thelma Houston, whose career had skyrocketed in 1976 with her Grammy winning recording of ‘Don't Leave Me This Way,’ and Willie Bobo, one of the top Latin jazz drummer/bandleaders of the era.

Did this colorful cast know what they were signing on for? Maybe not, for as we learn in the DVD's commentary track, Gottlieb didn't set out to make a skin flick. He originally intended to make an artsy film called The Seventh Dwarf about his own experiences working in a public relations firm. It was Sam Sherman of Independent International Pictures who suggested Gottlieb add some dirty stuff so he’d “have something to latch onto.” It was also Sherman, who’d made a successful career out of producing such exploitation fare as Blazing Stewardesses (1975), who suggested the game show angle. Gottlieb, who hadn’t wanted to make an exploitation film, agreed. It was either that, or continue lugging around giant film cans and being turned down by distributors.

Vinegar Syndrome’s 2-disc set features anamorphic widescreen (1.85:1) transfers of both cuts of the film. The Seventh Dwarf is a bit more dog-eared, and the Dolby Digital 2.0 mono tracks are hissy at times, particularly at the beginning of both discs. The outtakes (7:56) feature some additional game show footage, some frames from the opening sex scene, and some unexpectedly overt (not hardcore) moments in the bedroom scene with Goober and Cici. Gottlieb, evidently, was going for broke in order to get his film shown. A gallery of stills is also included, plus a rather tedious conversation between Gottlieb and Vinegar Syndrome’s Joe Rubin. Ultimately, this film that Vinegar Syndrome is marketing as “a mind bending blend of art house drama and drive-in sleaze,” is neither artsy enough or sleazy enough. Gottlieb fumbled in trying to serve two masters.

Perhaps the oddest thing about the film (both versions) is that Harriet Schock's lovely 'Hollywood Town' serves as the film's unofficial theme song. Indeed, the song, which was the title track of Ms. Schock’s 1974 debut album, feels out of place in the film, like a butterfly landing on a busted open garbage bag. But the song does lend gravitas to the film, and fits in with the theme of LA being, “where the lost and found come to find their way.” Schock, who wrote the Helen Reddy hit, ‘Aint No Way To Treat a Lady,’ and recorded several top selling albums of her own, told Cinema Retro that she had no idea her song was featured in Game Show Models.

“Somehow I missed that,” Ms. Schock said. “The publisher probably kept the sync fee and I simply never knew about it.”

Since she didn’t mention Game Show Models in her on-line bio, I’d wondered if she distanced herself from the movie. It turns out she’d never even heard of it.

“Is it porn?” Ms. Schock asked, curious as to how her song was used. “Should I be worried?”

I’m sending her my copy.

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By Lee Pfeiffer 

Twilight Time has released the 1966 epic Khartoum as a Blu-ray special edition. Officially the film was a Cinerama production but the process used was 70mm, not the original Cinerama three-strip format. The film, impressively directed by Basil Dearden, was met with respectable, if unenthusiastic, reviews upon its initial release. The boxoffice take was also anemic especially in the all-important American market where the film's historical basis was largely unknown to U.S. audiences.  However, Khartoum has always had enthusiastic defenders and their ranks seem to be growing as the years pass, especially in an age when such "thinking man's epics" are few and far between. The film boasts two magnificent performances by two larger-than-life stars. Charlton Heston stars as General "Chinese" Gordon, so named because of his record of military victories in China. Laurence Olivier is The Mahdi, the self-described religious prophet who is on a fanatical course to convert everyone in the Arab world to either convert to Islam or die a violent death. The film opens with an excellent prologue that gives a snap shot of the political situation in the 1880s and how this affected the British empire. Britain was allied with Egypt at the time and considered itself to be that nation's military protector. The Mahdi took advantage of the politically fluid situation in the Sudan to gain a major foothold in taking over the government by commanding a growing army of fanatical followers. The Mahdi hated the Egyptians because he felt they were too secular and their ties to the West had sold out their religious obligations to Islam. The Egyptians feared that the Mahdi's growing power would leave them unable to defeat him in an all-out war should he ultimately seize control of the Sudan. The British sent an officer corps to lead Egyptian troops in a preemptive strike against the Mahdi. However, the religious leader outwitted them by drawing the invaders into the oppressive desert and then slaughtering the exhausted soldiers. The Mahdi was now making his move to take control of the crown jewel of the Sudan, the city of Khartoum which is situated on the banks of the Nile. 

The film presents the British Prime Minister, William Gladstone (Ralph Richardson) as going against the tide of England's obsession with colonialism. He doesn't want anything to do with sending a major force into the Middle East to combat an army of religious zealots- yet he feels a sense of obligation to make at least a token effort to evacuate a significant number of Egyptian citizens from Khartoum before the Mahdi lays siege to the city. He reluctantly sends General Gordon on a mission that is very much doomed from its inception. Gordon was highly respected in the Sudan, having ended the slave trade there. He is stubborn, arrogant and generally ignores orders. However, he is regarded as a virtual saint by the Sudanese. Gladstone calculates that by sending Gordon of a fool's errand, he will take the blame if his mission fails. Gordon sees through the ploy but his ego gets the better of him and he accepts the challenge. He is accompanied by Col. Stewart (Richard Johnson), who acts as his right hand man even though he admits to being a personal spy for Gladstone. The abrasive relationship between Gordon and Stewart eventually turns to mutual respect and the two men work together on thwarting the Mahdi's plans. Upon arrival in Khartoum, Gordon abandons his primary mission which is to evacuate Egyptian nationals down the Nile via riverboat. Instead, he makes a daring visit to the Mahdi's camp and attempts to get the "prophet" to show mercy on the citizens of the city. When the Mahdi makes clear he intends to slaughter every man, woman and child who does not swear loyalty to him, Gordon informs his adversary that he will mount a defense of the city. Gordon sends Stewart on the long voyage back to England to blackmail Gladstone into sending a British military expeditionary force. Gladstone is outraged but agrees to do so because the British public is impressed with  Gordon's courage and the gallantry of his mission. Meanwhile, in Khartoum, Gordon sets about fortifying the city- and praying that the British troops arrive before the Mahdi can advance upon the city, the garrison of which is greatly outnumbered. 

Khartoum is a lavish epic that boasts fine performances across the board. The action sequences are thrilling and spectacularly filmed and the entire production impresses on every level. The Twilight Time Blu-ray does point out the film's flaws, however. In the commentary track by film historians Lem Dobbs, Nick Redman and Julie Kirgo (the latter two are among the founders of the video label), they rather pointedly call out various aspects of the movie for falling short. In the aggregate, they believe Khartoum is a Wal-mart version of a David Lean epic. They observe (correctly) that there are some really bad rear screen projection shots and that most of the production was filmed at England's Pinewood Studios, with on-location Middle East filming spread out to look more extensive than it actually was. There is also criticism of the historical aspects of the film. Apparently Gordon was as much a fanatic for Christianity as the Mahdi was for Islam- indeed, he sounds as though he was a complete crackpot. None of that is alluded to in the script, which obviously intended to present Gordon as a more traditional hero. Amusingly, every now and then the trio of film historians remind the viewer (and each other) that they really do like Khartoum, but then they quickly get back to tearing it down. Other justifiable criticisms they have is that the film presents some impressive British character actors in the London sequences but fails to utilize them in any meaningful way. They just stand around like props. It is also observed that the two meetings between Gordon and the Mahdi that are depicted in the movie never took place in real life. Call it commerce over historical accuracy, as the studio wasn't about to disappoint viewers from enjoying the smartly-written byplay between the two leads. Redman, Dobbs and Kirgo also appropriately give credit to famed stunt director Yakima Canutt for bringing the film's stirring battle sequences to fruition- and they heap lukewarm praise on composer Frank Cordell for what this reviewer thinks is actually a magnificent score. In totality, much of the joy of this Twilight Time release comes through the informative audio commentary, even if you may disagree with our "hosts". The transfer is magnificent and the release boasts the usual excellent collector's booklet with liner notes by Julie Kirgo. An original trailer is included as is a cool compilation trailer promoting the 90th anniversary of MGM.

The region free release is limited to 3,000 units.

Click here to order from Screen Archives 

Click here to order the original soundtrack album on CD along with Frank Cordell's score for Mosquito Squadron.  

By Lee Pfeiffer 

A textbook example of how to make an action/adventure movie, Captain Phillips represents a triumph for director Paul Greengrass and star Tom Hanks. The acclaimed film closely follows the real life story of Richard Phillips, the American merchant marine captain who was assigned in 2009 to navigate a massive cargo vessel laden with millions of dollars of goods as well as humanitarian supplies through the Horn of Africa. This necessitated that the vessel had to tempt fate by entering waters in which Somali pirates had been terrifying ship's crews and often holding them hostage for ransom. As fate would have it, Phillips and his crew found themselves menaced by a skiff of heavily armed pirates who managed to board their vessel despite gallant attempts to thwart them. (The film only minimally discusses the self-defeating policy of sending crews into harm's way without so much as small arms to defend themselves.) Phillips acts decisively and instructs his crew to hide in within the bowels of their ship while he and his first mate attempt to bribe the pirates into making a quick exit. The ploy doesn't work and the leader of the group, Muse (Barkhad Abdi) insists on holding the crew ransom in return for millions of dollars. We won't provide any spoilers here but suffice it to say that clever and daring actions by Phillips and his men results in the pirates disembarking the ship in an enclosed, hi-tech lifeboat with only Phillips as hostage. Although the captain has saved his vessel and his men, his own situation is precarious as his captors hurry toward Somalia where his rescue would be even more complicated. 

Director Greengrass wastes nary a frame in expository elements of the film. The movie opens with Phillips bidding his wife farewell as he is about to embark on yet another seemingly endless voyage. He meets his crew and he is presented as a strict, no-nonsense commander but one who gains the respect of his men. Not long after setting sail on their mission, the vessel is attacked by the pirates. Thus begins a cat-and-mouse game that is both physical and psychological as Muse and Phillips attempt to outmaneuver each other. The excellent screenplay by Billy Ray avoids any heavy handed social commentary, but it does humanize the villains. In the film's opening sequence we see them being forced into piracy under threat to their lives by greedy local warlords. Muse, who speaks relatively fluent English, is but a humble local fisherman who has been dragooned into violent acts. If he doesn't bring home a trophy for ransom, he is likely doomed. His three companions range from immature in personality to bristling with potential sadism. Muse strikes a temperate balance, reassuring Phillips he will be safe once the ransom is paid. The final section of the movie deals with Phillips' attempted rescue by the U.S. Navy, including a Seals team that courageously made a night parachute drop into shark-filled waters to enact a daring plan that is right out of Mission: Impossible. Hanks gives a brilliant performance, one of the best of his career. He never overplays Phillips' courageous acts. He makes some daring decisions and moves, but throughout he is scared to death, as any sane man would be. The supporting cast, compromised largely of relatively unknown actors, is terrific. Paul Greengrass brings the suspense to an almost unbearable level in the film's nail-biting finale.

The Sony DVD special edition includes a commentary track by Hanks and Greengrass as well as an extensive documentary about the making of the film that includes interviews with the real Captain Phillips, who seems every bit as charismatic as his on-screen counterpart. The documentary reveals that the extraordinary Somali actors are all residents of the United States, having emigrated there as young people. It's a joyful experience to watch these actors relish their opportunity to star in a major Hollywood film. (Although Bardi has been nominated a Best Supporting Actor Oscar,  Hanks and Greengrass were inexcusably overlooked.)  The documentary also discusses Greengrass's determination to minimize studio shooting in favor of actually filming aboard the merchant marine vessel. It makes it all the more impressive when one sees the obstacles that cinematographer Barry Ackroyd had to overcome to obtain the incredible shots he achieved in such confined spaces. Kudos, also, to editor Christopher Rouse for an equally impressive achievement. The other extras are a trailer gallery of recent films including The Monuments Men and American Hustle, but curiously does not include a trailer for Captain Phillips. 

This is an intelligent, rousing adventure story that ranks among the best action movies of recent years.

(The DVD includes an Ultra Violet Digital Copy)  

By Lee Pfeiffer

When I screened this DVD presentation of the much-hyped HBO movie Behind the Candelabra,  about the love affair between Liberace and his young boy toy Scott Thorson, the three people I viewed the movie with unanimously voiced an almost vitriolic response to the film. It had nothing to do with the gay love affair content (they are all dyed-in-the-wool liberals who support gay rights.) Their complaints centered on the fact that the film was boring and pointless and a colossal waste of talent. I was taken aback by the degree of their hatred for this movie but I will concede it was distinctly disappointing. First the background. In 1977 Scott Thorson was a hunky young guy who was introduced to Liberace. They entered an intense relationship that Thorson, in his memoirs, maintained was a legitimate May/December love affair. Before long Thorson had displaced Liberace's previous live-in lover and had moved into the master pianist's opulent but garish mansion. Thorson had been warned that Liberace went through lovers like Kleenex but nevertheless for a four year period he seemed to be an invaluable aspect of Liberace's life. Thorson was not only a companion but a trusted confidant. He was put on Liberace's payroll and became his major domo, even appearing  in his act by driving the flamboyant entertainer on stage in a Rolls Royce. Somewhere along the way, however, the wheels fell off the relationship and Thorson found himself out of favor. In an All About Eve-like scenario, he was being upstaged by other young men who had caught Liberace's eye. By this point, Thorson-who had a troubled past and little hope for a professional career- had become financially dependent upon Liberace, who he claimed had promised him financial security for the rest of his life. The result was a messy and highly publicized palimony-type legal battle that saw Thorson getting a modest payment in return for removing himself from Liberace's home and his life.

Behind the Candelabra must have seemed like a sure-fire project from the very beginning. Steven Soderbergh would be directing and two of Hollywood's most legendary heterosexual screen gods, Michael Douglas and Matt Damon, would play Liberace and Scott Thorson in a big screen adaptation of Thorson's book that would be adapted by acclaimed screenwriter Richard LaGravanese. Yet the film was unable to secure a theatrical release. The official theory was that the prospect of two straight screen legends making out together would turn off audiences. This is a valid concern. Way back in 1969, two of England's leading "swordsmen", Richard Burton and Rex Harrison, co-starred as an aging gay couple in Stanley Donen's Staircase. This very fine, little-seen film was avoided like the plague by audiences. Given the fact that films cost a fortune to market and publicize, the decision was made to premiere Behind the Candelabra on HBO. It was received with praise in many quarters and was nominated for any number of international awards, with Douglas winning a Golden Globe. However, one suspects that if the high profile talent had not been involved, the movie might have been treated more harshly. Douglas and Damon give excellent performances and boldly go where no straight actors have gone before, enacting sequences depicting gay sex in a way that probably would have destroyed their careers in less enlightened times. However, the film never grasps the viewer emotionally. The whole thing plays out like a gimmick as though two straight guys thought it might be a hoot to see if they could pull off the challenge of portraying two flamboyantly gay men, one of whom was the most over the top entertainer of his era. When you get over the initial novelty of seeing Douglas prancing around on screen and ogling Damon, who is in almost superhuman physical condition, entering a hot tub naked, you are left with a patchy story line that plods through a two hour running time that seems to take longer to unwind than Ben-Hur.  The script is also restricted by the fact that it has to adhere to Thorson's version of history, which naturally portrays him sympathetically and doesn't address criticisms that he may have been an opportunist who entered a relationship of convenience in order to obtain financial security. (Thorson was serving time in jail when this film premiered last year.)

We see details of Liberace's remarkable lifestyle but learn little about his background or ascension through show business. An unrecognizable Debbie Reynolds is cast as his adored mother but she is criminally underutilized in the role. Liberace occasionally discusses some aspects of his past but the emphasis is on his showmanship and the shallowness of his existence. His home is a monument to himself and his relationships are portrayed as based primarily on short-term sexual satisfaction.  Thorson's background is also glossed over. When we first see him he is living with an older couple who were his de facto parents and working as an animal handler in the film industry. Suddenly, he's in a hot tub with Liberace and moving into his mansion, with scant attention paid to his emotional or financial state at the time. Because this is Thorson's vision of his relationship with Liberace, it is presented as a genuine love affair that had run out of steam, with him paying the price as Liberace's victim. The film does have a final sequence in which Liberace, laying his bed dying of AIDS, calls Thorson to stop by for one last goodbye. In the film version, the two men manage to put aside their differences and have an emotional last meeting. However, this scene illustrates the basic problem with the entire film: despite valiant performances by Douglas and Damon, there is no truly emotional core to this scene or the entire project. Sequences that are meant to enrage or touch the viewer do neither. The movie lumbers along from one fairly monotonous sequence to the other. As director,Soderbergh is efficient, but somewhat cold and distanced from his own project. There are some moments of genuine humor, such as when Thorson first sees Liberace sans toupee. However, there are other aspects of the film that don't work at all. For example, Thorson maintained that Liberace coerced him to undergo radical plastic surgery in order to obtain his mentor's physical characteristics. In a dramatic sequence, Thorson reluctantly goes under the scalpel which is wielded by a crackpot plastic surgeon (well-played by Rob Lowe). The only problem is that the "new" Thorson doesn't look much different than the "old" Thorson and in no way resembles  Liberace. We all know that no one wants to risk messing up Damon's billion dollar face but this key aspect of the films falls short because the payoff shot of the radically transformed Thorson just isn't there.

The film captures the mood and look of the 1970s well enough as evidenced by the fact that not all of the garish fashions are confined to Liberace. (Yes, guys we really did dress this way in the '70s.) However, the sheer opulence of Liberace's stage appearances have a less-than-grand look to them that would seem to fall short of his actual shows. The one exception is a cliched ending sequence in which Thorson envisions the late entertainer ascending to Heaven. The scene seems directly inspired by the finale of Bob Fosse's All That Jazz, but done less effectively. The movie boasts an interesting supporting cast including Dan Aykroyd as Liberace's manager and Scott Bakula as one of Thorson's cronies, but- like Reynolds- these talents are not used to their full potential. 

There was much I admired in Behind the Candelabra but in the aggregate, the film falls short of its potential and our expectations. The HBO DVD release of the film includes a short "making of" featurette that emphasizes how much care and effort went into recreating Liberace's home and the fact that many of his actual costumes were used in the production. It also addresses the Liberace's ludicrous insistence on maintaining that he was straight because of fears that admitting his obvious homosexuality would have ruined his career. The featurette is, in many ways, more interesting than the feature film it supports and one is left with the impression that, because Liberace did lead a remarkable and dramatic life, the best way to learn about it is probably through books or documentaries.

By Dollie Banner

When The Waterdance was released in 1991 I couldn’t wait to see it. It had all the earmarks of a film I would enjoy; Eric Stoltz in a leading dramatic role, a solid reception at the Sundance Film Festival and a script by Neal Jimenez, who wrote perhaps the best alternative teen film of the 1980’s, River’s Edge. I had to wait until the video release, but The Waterdance didn’t disappoint. I instantly fell in love with this poignant character study of three patients coping with sudden wheelchair confinement. It’s always felt like a secret film only I’ve seen, so I’m thrilled that this compelling gem is now available from Sony Pictures Choice Collection.

Jimenez, who co-directed along with Michael Steinberg, drew on his own experience as a paraplegic to craft this story of a writer who finds himself in a physical rehab ward following a debilitating accident. It’s not difficult to believe that the script evolved from real-life events because it unfolds like a great play, each character so fully conceived and with scenes full of humor, pain, hostility and resiliency. Stoltz perfectly internalizes the frustration of writer Joel Garcia who wakes to find himself in a halo brace on a gurney headed toward is temporary new home in a rehab center. While his ward mates Bloss (William Forsythe) and Victor (Tony Genaro) bicker about what to watch on the lone television, Joel turns to observing his new cast of roommates to pass the hours between visits from his married girlfriend Anna (Helen Hunt). He can’t help but be drawn to the two loudest, former biker and born agitator Bloss and his primary target Raymond (Wesley Snipes), a charmingly forward patient who may be prone to exaggerating his exploits outside the facility. The three men rely on each other to navigate their new circumstances as they reassert their masculinity in their compromised bodies.

One of the finest achievements of the film is that is never sentimentalizes any aspect of the characters’ recoveries. Instead Jimenez, Steinberg and the excellent cast treat their characters with a great deal of empathy and celebrate even the ugly and uncomfortable part of human nature. The Waterdance should stand amongst Stoltz’ signature roles in The Mask and Some Kind of Wonderful as one of his finest performances. He displays a similar quiet melancholy here, his clear blue eyes conveying all Joel’s dismay and resignation. Stoltz is also gifted with a light comic touch and he finds every note of humor in the script as Joel looks for any kind of distraction. Raymond provides a rare vulnerable character for Snipes, a man who takes this setback as an opportunity to become the man he intended to be. Usually the most easy going and affable guy on the ward, the scene where his family visits is a heartbreaker. Mostly known for playing ruthless heavies, William Forsythe’s work here is phenomenal. He takes another tough guy and adds so many unexpected layers that Bloss feels like someone you just met; a real person. The film also provides Helen Hunt with the first in a number of great turns as a woman who struggles to give solace to her leading man. Here she’s smart and sensual, and showcases that innate maturity that has marked all of her work as an adult. William Allen Young and the always wonderful Elizabeth Pena are also terrific as caregivers, treating the patients with directness and dignity.

I’m fairly certain I’ve only seen The Waterdance in pan and scan so it nice to have it here in its original widescreen format. While there’s nothing markedly original about the cinematography, the directors, along with D.P. Mark Plummer create an intimacy between the characters that allows the audience to fully engage in the patients’ struggles. In the tradition of classic Hollywood movies, every aspect of the film from the score to the editing works to service the story creating an illuminative experience for the viewer. This DVD’s only extra is a theatrical trailer, but the film itself is the real treasure here and I hope more people are able to discover it.

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By Don L. Stradley

“All of my films have a sexual theme. I'm a sex maniac, so why not?" So says director Piero Vivarelli, interviewed in the new Mondo Macabro DVD of his 1970 feature, The Snake God (Il Dio Serpente).  You don't have to take his word for it. Just a glance at the movie tells you he was a kinky son of a gun.

Paola (the beautiful Nadia Cassini) is a young bride brought to the Caribbean by her wealthy, older husband. She enjoys the luxury, but she's a little bored.  Hubby, you see, keeps taking off for business meetings, leaving Paola with nothing to do but laze around on the beach and perspire. She befriends a young black woman named Stella (Beryl Cunningham, Vivarelli's real life wife), a sexy school teacher who seems to have a carefree lifestyle. Paola is envious after seeing Stella cavorting on the beach with her hunky boyfriend, but Stella acts indifferent. "My boyfriend is fun," Stella says, "But he's stupid."  Stella has more pressing interests involving local tribal customs, namely, those involving a mysterious snake god. Quicker than you can say I Walked With A Zombie, Stella introduces Paola to voodoo. At one point in the film Paola attends an island ritual and ends up thrashing on the ground with Stella as if they’re both possessed by evil spirits.  Paola is a clean-cut European girl, so this scary island atmosphere is all new and exotic to her. By the film's end, Paola has given herself to Djamballa, the snake god. Isn't that always the way?

Vivarelli was a genre bouncer, moving easily from rock & roll musicals, to comic book adventures. He earned his bones writing screenplays for directors like Lucio Fulci and Sergio Corbucci, and even after directing several of his own features, Vivarelli was often called upon to punch up someone else's screenplay. That's why you'll see his name on everything from spaghetti westerns to soft-core porn.  He had an interest in songwriting, too, often contributing musical ideas to his films.  Hence, Vivarelli's features were usually highlighted by vibrant scores, chockfull of brass and fuzz guitars. Even The Snake God, which is heavy on mind-numbing tribal beats, features a nice electric bass line that could've been lifted from an old Ventures album. 

Vivarelli, who died in 2010, was a rebellious soul who often chided the movie business for its hypocrisy.  In the DVD's "about the film" section there's a lot of verbiage about how he was a communist, and a pot smoker, and how The Snake God was his statement about colonization. Gee, I thought the film's message was something about not leaving your younger wife alone, because there's usually a snake god out there waiting to show her a good time.  To paraphrase something Vivarelli said during the interview, once you've been in the sheets with a snake god, you don't go back to mortal men.  

The Snake God isn't Vivarelli's best work. Many of the ritualistic  scenes go on far too long in an effort to pad out a thin story, and despite all of Vivarelli's close-ups of bare asses and breasts, there's not much of an erotic charge here. The racial theme is also a bit heavy handed, with the black characters depicted as earthy and raw, while the white folks are shown as naïve and uptight (a theme familiar to anyone who has enjoyed the films of Whoopie Goldberg). Also, there was a period of time in cinema history when screen couples gazed into each other's eyes while eating citrus fruit, as if fruit juice dripping down someone's chin really jacked up the pheromones. If interracial fruit sucking is your bag, there's a fair amount of it here.

The DVD is quite beautiful, though, courtesy of a new anamorphic transfer. The Caribbean looks breathtaking, and the sunlight bouncing off the ocean is nearly blinding. Kudos to Mondo Macabro for displaying Benito Frattari's cinematography in such sharp detail, for Frattari's camera work is the best part of a slow, dullish film. Do you like snake movies? Go find Cobra Woman with Maria Montez and Sabu. You'll be better off.

(The Snake God is 95 minutes long, and presented in widescreen (2.35:1/16:9). The DVD includes a handful of special features, such as the interview with Vivarelli, extensive production notes, newly created English subtitles, a trailer, and previews of other Mondo Macabro titles.)

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