Blu-ray/DVD/Streaming Reviews & News
Entries from June 2014
By Lee Pfeiffer
Impulse Pictures continues its obsession with sleazy 1970s porn flicks with the release of "The Chambermaids", a 1974 opus that exploits erotic fantasies regarding the otherwise mundane occupation of hotel maids. Yes, there is something about maids and nurses that appeals to below-the-belt interests of men and these scenarios were often the basis of porn flicks going back to the beginning of the genre. Naturally, in order for the fantasies to be enacted, the maids in question have to be young and pretty and not look like members of the old Soviet Olympics team. In "The Chambermaids" two young women, Mary Ellen and Sally, are bored with their low-paying professions of cleaning rooms in a big city hotel. They devise a plot to become considerably more friendly to male guests in the hope they will be financially rewarded for their efforts. It doesn't take long for the plan to meet with success. One of the maids ends up bedding a businessman who is awaiting the arrival of a married colleague. After a hot session with said maid, he asks her to bring a friend back later so he can "entertain" the client in an even more special manner. The other maid, meanwhile, is tidying up the suite of a newlywed couple when she encounters the distraught groom. He explains that his wife is in the bedroom, frustrated, because he can't rise to the occasion. The maid theorizes that he is unnecessarily paranoid about now being married and gives him a crash course in revitalizing his mojo. The grateful hubby then goes back into the boudoir with renewed confidence. Somewhere along the way, the scenario begins to play out like a French bedroom farce with mistaken identities and chance encounters adding some comedic touches. The new bride (conveniently clad in a nightie) ends up wandering into an adjoining hotel room where she observes one of the maids and another woman pleasuring each other. They immediately seduce her and, following this session, she is mistaken for a hooker and ends up bedding the businessman's client.
"The Chambermaids" doesn't boast any of the big names from the porn industry during this era. Even the ubiquitous John Holmes is nowhere to be seen. Nevertheless, it's a middle-of-the-road production, more ambitious than some and boasting a cast that is fairly attractive, if you don't count the guy who plays the business client. (He resembles the love child of porn legend Ron Jeremy and character actor Al Letieri.) The sex scenes are pretty straight forward and aren't marred by the goofy slapstick comedy that permeated a lot of the X rated flicks of the day. It's undoubtedly also the only time in screen history in which a woman indulged in oral sex to the strains of Burt Bacharach's Oscar-nominated "Casino Royale" song "The Look of Love".
Impulse Pictures has wisely chosen to market the movie's shortcomings as strengths. Consider the copy from the back of the DVD sleeve:
"The amateur camerawork, microphone shadows, elevator music, terribly recorded sound and "you are there" extreme close-ups, will bring you back to the days when adult film were cheap and fast and VERY sleazy. Re-mastered from a scratchy, barely surviving theatrical print, "The Chambermaids" is a steamy slice of 70's sex cinema that will have you cleaning up your own room after you watch it!"
At last- a case of truth in advertising! How can you help but love this company? Besides, that cover art is worth the price alone.
Click here to order from Amazon
By Don Stradley
While
recently watching Sweet Hostage
(1975), I couldn’t stop thinking that Martin Sheen should’ve been a much bigger
star. I didn’t get out to the movies
much as a kid, and could only watch a small black & white TV in my bedroom.
Hence, it was Sheen, the king of the TV movie, who gave me my first inkling of
what an actor could do.
Aside
from his iconic turn as the homicidal Kit in Terrence Malick’s Badlands (1973), Sheen did most of his
1970s work on the small screen. He had a
shifty-eyed way about him that screamed “troubled loner.†Granted, he could dial it down long enough to
play Bobby Kennedy in The Missiles of
October, but generally, he played twitchy, neurotic types.
Sheen
seemed to be on television every month in those days. I remember him as the
doomed Private Slovick, shaking like a leaf as he stood in front of an
execution squad. Then he was as a cocky hot rodder trying to upstage a sadistic
sheriff in The California Kid. He was
“Pretty Boy†Floyd, the Depression era bank robber. There was the Kennedy turn, and then, of
course, the endless reruns of various cop dramas where he often appeared as
misfits and derelicts, cackling all the way.
Sweet Hostage originally aired on ABC in Oct. 1975, the peak of the “made for TV
movie†era. Sheen’s portrayal of
Leonard Hatch, an escapee from a Boston mental ward who kidnaps a lonely teen
played by Linda Blair, was quite a big deal at the time, especially among
women. I recall overhearing various
females – aunts, teachers, ladies at the supermarket – talking about this
movie. “Did you see it?†they’d ask each other. “Did you cry at the end?â€
In
the decades since, the movie appeared to fall into the rabbit hole where a lot
of made-for-TV flicks go, but it loomed large in my mind. I recalled it as a dark tale of a man who
held a woman hostage, and somehow they fell in love. I’m not familiar with
Nathaniel Benchley’s novel, Welcome to Xanadu, which served as the basis for
the movie, but I’ve heard the movie is much more of a tearjerker. On a side note, I remember a day in the
1990s when Sweet Hostage was airing
on an obscure local station, wedged in between Mexican mummy movies and
infomercials. I hadn’t seen it in years
and wanted to get reacquainted with it. To my surprise, the movie felt
sentimental and overblown. Watching it
tonight streamed on the Warner Archive, though, it seemed a nearly perfect
relic of the era.
The
first image is a tight close-up of Sheen’s gaunt, slightly haunted face. The
wind blows his hair back, all the better to see his thousand mile stare. As
Hatch, Sheen may have reached the pinnacle of his psycho period. He’s a
literature spouting nutcase, the sort of eccentric who wanders the grounds of
the asylum reciting poetry and demanding the nurses call him ‘Kublai Khan.’ He
escapes one night, steals a truck, robs a store (while wearing a clown mask)
and heads for parts unknown.
Blair
plays Doris Mae Withers, a 17-year-old who dreams of the day when she can leave
her father’s chicken farm. One day her truck breaks down on the highway and
Hatch picks her up. When he decides she’s an illiterate who could use some
mentoring, he holds her captive in his cabin, trying to impress her with the
beauty of poetry. She makes a few feeble
attempts at escaping, but gradually succumbs to Hatch’s weird charm. True, he has an irrational temper, but when
he’s not yelling at her, he’s rather kind, like a man from another era, someone
out of a story book of princes and rogues. He even wears a puffy shirt. Hell,
it beats living on the chicken farm, so she gets comfortable and hunkers down
for the long hall. Far-fetched? Sure,
but I never said the movie was flawless.
Sheen,
at times, comes dangerously close to overdoing it as Hatch. He’s a dervish of
fake accents, odd mannerisms, cackling laughter, and manic outbursts. But for all of his frenzied behavior, we
never learn why he was in the mental hospital. For all we know, he’d been locked away because he loved poetry. (There’s
an odd scene where Hatch meets a townie who babbles at him in lines borrowed
from Star Trek. He even gives Hatch the Vulcan salute. What do we glean from
this? Quoting Mr. Spock is permitted, but quote Lord Byron and you go to the
psycho ward?)
Cinematographer
Richard C. Glouner shoots the hell out of the Taos, New Mexico locations, but
his strategy of filming the main characters from below works against the theme
of the movie. Shooting from below makes Sheen and Blair look like large
powerful figures, when they’re actually two little people in a big lonely
world. Glouner’s work is striking, but
it doesn’t fit the story. He does have a flair for making Taos look like big
sky country, and he makes Hatch’s cabin look rustic and hard, but his best work
is a scene where Sheen and Blair waltz
around inside the cabin – he brings his camera above the scene, looking down at
the two as they appear to be growing closer. It’s a warm scene, and it’s a
reminder of how director Lee Philips carried off the neat trick of making us
believe Blair could fall in love with her captor.
Philips,
a veteran TV director, keeps the movie motoring along, but he nearly destroys
it with music, including a terrible theme song that he dumps into the movie at
random sections. The song, which I won’t glorify by mentioning its title or
singer, nearly capsizes the movie. Imagine if, while watching Badlands, or, say, Bonnie and Clyde, a scene was suddenly interrupted by Terry Jacks
singing ‘Seasons in the Sun.’ That’s how off-putting the music is here. Since
most TV shows of the period had an opening theme song where the plot would be
described ( i.e. “Here’s the story of a man named Brady…â€) television producers may have thought a TV
movie needed the same thing, a song to describe the action. Still, it’s
ridiculous. This is probably why I had a bad reaction to the movie back in the
1990s.
Philips
also had a bad habit of laying drippy music underneath all of the emotional
scenes, as if he’s determined to tell us how we should feel. The score, a schlocky mix of TV music clichés
by Luchi De Jesus (who had done a lot of Blaxploitation movies), really hasn’t
aged well. Some of the scenes were
magical on their own, such as when Sheen and Blair embrace after she reads a
poem that moves him to tears. Strip the
music away and the scenes would be much more powerful, for Sheen and Blair
don’t need musical accompaniment. And as much as I like Sheen, it’s really
Blair who made this movie sit up and speak. As Doris Mae, Blair gives just
about the most honest performance ever given by a teenager.
Blair,
like Sheen, had become a bit of a TV icon, emerging from The Exorcist to appear as various teen alcoholics and runaways on
somewhat scandalous TV movies. (Her name is above Sheen’s on the credits, which
shows you the power of The Exorcist
was still in the air). And while Sheen
hyperventilates as Hatch, Blair has the sense to underplay their scenes together
– she’s the rock in the middle of his windstorm.
And
consider this: If female viewers fell in love with Sheen in this movie, they
were doing so through Linda Blair’s eyes. Blair must have tapped into something
that exists in all women, some strange desire to be trapped, combined with a
need to nurture. The creepy cabin in the
woods becomes a kind of enchanted cottage, with Doris Mae sweeping up and
hanging curtains, her eyes widening as Hatch tells her of exotic, faraway
lands. Yet, she also knows that this
grown man is still something like a kid himself. For Doris Mae, Hatch is all men in one: the
unpredictable but gentle father, the encouraging teacher, the playful brother,
the flirtatious boyfriend, and even, in a roundabout way, the son who needs
protection. With so many facets of Hatch to deal with, Doris Mae can only grow.
To her delight, she likes growing. In what is probably the performance of her
lifetime, Blair shows us the inner workings of a sad girl warming up to life.
The
ending is a bummer, with bloodthirsty vigilantes closing in on Hatch’s
cabin. When he spots a police helicopter
hovering over his place, he decides to take the only way out he can think of,
sacrificing himself so Doris Mae can live. TV viewers bombarded newspapers with
angry letters, asking why the film had to end in a death. The movie was a success, though, and was even
given a theatrical release in several European countries. There were even
rumors that 34-year-old Sheen and 17-year-old Blair had some sort of off-screen
affair (which both denied).
Sheen
announced at the time that he was leaving television to focus on big screen
features. He started by killing Jodie
Foster’s hamster in The Little Girl Who
Lives Down the Lane. He got as far
as Apocalypse Now, suffered a heart attack during filming, and spent the next 30
years bouncing between TV and independent pics. He’s never hit the peaks I’d imagined for him. As for Blair, well, Roller Boogie was beckoning. Blair, too, has worked steadily, but she was never better than she was
as the girl in Leonard Hatch’s cabin, her eyes widening with love for the
strange man who brought out the poetry in her.
(Sweet Hostage is available for viewing
on the Warner Archive streaming service.)
ALSO AVAILABLE ON WARNER ARCHIVE DVD: CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM AMAZON
(This review pertains to the limited edition Region 2 UK release from the BFI)
By Paul Risker
As
well as asking the question “Is cinema more important than life?†Francois
Truffaut showed a flair for statement when he declared Werner Herzog to be “The
most important filmmaker alive.â€
If
the BFI have the final word this summer, it will be remembered as the summer of
Herzog, as they align themselves with the German filmmaker and journey headlong
into his cinematic world. This rendezvous starts with a descent into the past with
two distinct forms of horror - the hallucinatory horror of human obsession in
Aguirre, Wrath of God and the genre horror Nosferatu.
Aguirre,
Wrath of God represents an important entry in Herzog's career, and by coupling it
with his 1971 feature documentary Fata Morgana, this release highlights the spatial
thread that runs through his cinema. From the jungle, the desert, Antarctica
and the urban geographical spaces resemble continents in Herzog’s cinema. Therein
the decision to offset Herzog's early foray into the jungle with an early
montage of images of the desert set to songs by Leonard Cohen is a fitting
accompaniment to Aguirre’s obsessive jungle march.
It
is theoretically possible to appreciate select films via the filmmaker’s commentary
on a first viewing, and Aguirre, Wrath of God is one of those films to support
such a theory. Herzog’s commentary intertwines well with the film, and whilst
the film functions as an independent entity - the grown up child who has come
of age and has been sent out into the world; Herzog’s words take you behind the
images to tell you the transparent narrative of the human experience behind the
film.
Whilst
in one sense the films exist separately of their filmmaker, in equal measure an
extension of him. In Aguirre, Wrath of God Herzog’s audacity to confront the inhospitable
jungle as well as the arduous nature of the filmmaking process finds him
mirrored in the tale of obsession and the obsessive nature of Don Lope de
Aguirre (Klaus Kinski).
Herzog’s
primary focus appears to be trained on the experience or sense of feeling the
film offers over the consideration of narrative, by opening himself up to the
environment as a source of inspiration. He allows the jungle to reveal its
nature and to guide him in creating an experience for him, his characters and
us the audience. Aguirre feels authentically gruelling, and lacks the
artificial feel of a performance, merging the physical and psychological
experience of a trek, and despite the improvisational approach, Herzog manages
to create a melodic flow amidst the arduous natural terrain, imbuing it with
graceful beauty despite the descent into an obsessive voyage of death.
Aguirre,
Wrath of God offers a powerful meditation on a theme of insanity - the susceptibility
versus the immunity. Whilst Kinski’s Aguirre floats on the surface in a state
of disquieting peace, his counterparts are inevitably dragged beneath the calm
surface. Kinski’s delivers a pitch perfect performance, both his idle and glaring
stare offset against the awkward physical movements that masterfully merge the
physical abruptness with a shade of a devilish soul.
The
jungle setting affords Herzog the opportunity to take advantage of the space
and setting as a mirror to reflect his characters psychology - the wildness of
their natures, and the labyrinth of obsession that the winding river becomes a
metaphor for. But the fatalities suffered by the native’s offers a reflection
that man is his own undoing, and mother nature is only a backdrop or a
reflection capable of showing us both our Jekyll and Hyde.
Aguirre
sits as the opening chapter in the tumultuous Kinski-Herzog collaboration; the
full story of which was wonderfully told in Herzog’s 1999 documentary My Best Fiend.
This relationship imbues Herzog’s career with a shade of folklore. If Woody
Allen listed reasons to live, then one of the reasons to be grateful for
Aguirre, Wrath of God is Herzog’s infamous threat to shoot Kinski. Whilst
disputes on set are not unheard of, Kinski and Herzog pushed into the realm of
the absurd. Whilst the two men plotted each other’s murder together they created
a series of films that have come to represent one of the great cinematic
collaborations in the history of film. But the distortion of these stories has
imbued them with a sense of myth; where what happened differs to what we think
happened. The stories of threats of physical harm and fleeing native tribes
could be read as filmic parables or cautionary tales for other filmmakers. If
the story of the making of a film can be just as compelling as the narrative
that plays out onscreen, the Kinski-Herzog dance more often than not produced such
a compelling second narrative. What better place to start than with Aguirre,
Wrath of God where this collaboration was born.
Alongside
a fine selection of extras including an old commentary track moderated by
Norman Hill and the montage documentary Fata Morgana, included on this release
are three early shorts that see Herzog experiment with the subjective and
objective perspective of his characters. An entertaining trilogy representing a
young filmmaker cutting his teeth, they present him as a filmmaker fascinated
by human nature, behaviour and personality from the very dawn of his filmmaking
career.
CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM AMAZON UK
By Lee Pfeiffer
The Warner Archive has released director Ken Annakin's madcap comedy "The Biggest Bundle of the Them All" as a burn-to-order DVD. The film's title has multiple meanings. It's a romantic ballad that is crooned over the opening titles by Johnny Mathis and a rock 'n roll version is heard later in the film. It also refers to a kidnap victim as well as the loot a group of thieves hope to gain from an audacious robbery. Finally, there is the sexual twist on the title with a bikini-clad Raquel Welch adorning the advertising posters.
The film is set in Italy and director Annakin makes the most of the lush locations. The film opens with an inept group of amateur crooks gently kidnapping a local crime lord, Cesare Celli (Vittorio De Sica), in the hopes of holding him for an elaborate ransom. Although Celli is refined, cultured and pompous, the leader of the crooks, Harry (Robert Wagner), soon discovers that Celli is past his sell date in terms of his influence in Italian crime circles. In fact, he is penniless and without the slightest influence among the real "dons". In an ironic twist, Celli becomes humiliated by this discovery and tries valiantly to find ways to collect his own ransom and prove that he still has some value to somebody. When that fails, he convinces Harry and his four confederates to enter into a partnership with him to mastermind a grand theft that will make them all rich. It involves an elaborate operation in which they will rob a train and steal a fortune in platinum, which will then be flown out of the country on an old WWII U.S. bomber. In advance of putting the scheme into play, the gang attempts several other minor crimes but they prove to be far too inept to carry even these out successfully. Celli enlists the aid of an influential American, "The Professor" (Edward G. Robinson), an equally sophisticated man who outlines the "foolproof" master robbery scheme.
The film is delightful on many levels. First, there is the inspired cast with De Sica stealing every scene in a truly inspired and very funny performance. The "gang that couldn't shoot straight" has several genuinely amusing actors including Italian character actor Francesco Mule, Brit Davy Kaye and American Godfrey Cambridge as a fey gangster who seems to have every amusing mannerism of Joe Besser of the Three Stooges. Raquel Welch, then in the early days of her superstardom, holds her own quite well in this "boy's club", playing the gorgeous arm candy of Wagner's Harry and there is an amusing sequence in which she dances in a disco with Edward G. Robinson (!) Director Annakin had the good sense to show plenty of gratuitous footage of Welch jiggling, gyrating and dancing about, often clad in a sexy bikini. Victor Spinetti turns up in a cameo, as does Mickey Knox, the American character actor who made good in Italy be rewriting Italian dialogue for American audiences on classic Westerns for Sergio Leone.
The film has many very funny vignettes and a whimsical score by Riz Ortolani. Annakin, who was equally adept at directing dramatic action films, never lets the pace flag for a second and the chemistry between his cast members is one of the movie's great pleasures.
The Warner Archive release is from a print that shows some fluctuations in lighting and color but is overall quite acceptable, though unfortunately there are no extras.
CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM AMAZON
By Fred Blosser
In
the Old West, small homesteaders run afoul of a big landowner who controls the
local law and levies killer taxes on their ranches and farms. The homesteaders finally refuse to pay the
taxes, and petition the governor for
help. Meanwhile, expecting reprisal from
the landowner’s hired guns, they build a makeshift fort for refuge. They also send for help from a mercenary who comes
to their aid with his private army of four associates and a Gatling gun.
Just
kidding about the Western setting. This
is actually the plot of “Gonin No Shokin
Kasegi,†also known as “The Fort of Death,†a 1969 Japanese chambara by Eiichi
Kudo. Nevertheless, the similarities are there. The homesteaders are peasants, the landowner
is their oppressive feudal lord, and the higher official they’ve petitioned is
the emperor. It’s easy to squint and
superimpose an Old West setting out of an American B movie, with Audie Murphy
or George Montgomery riding to the rescue.
I’m
not joking about the Gatling gun, though. The film is hazy about the historical period of the action, but I would
guess the setting is meant to be the 1870s, when Western goods and weapons have
entered the Japanese economy.
Fans
of the Lone Wolf and Cub samurai movies will recognize the star of that series,
Tomisaburo Wakayama, as Ichibei, the head mercenary. The movie calls him a “bounty hunter,†and
“The Fort of Death†is one of three movies (1969-72) about the same character
that the reference books call the “Bounty Hunter†series. In this one at least, he seems more like a
soldier of fortune who might collect bounties one day and lead a team of
quasi-military specialists the next.
Wakayama
should be the poster boy for middle-aged, dumpy, homely males: the women in the
movie keep making passes at Ichibei, if not downright trying to get in his
pants, including a smokin’ hot lady ninja on his team of mercenaries.
In
contrast to his dour Lone Wolf and Cub ronin, Wakayama loosens up with Ichibei,
who runs a medical practice when he’s not fighting a war for downtrodden
peasants. There’s a funny, raunchy scene
where a jittery patient comes to Dr. Ichibei complaining about pain “down
thereâ€; Ichibei diagnoses the clap and somberly tells the poor bastard that
he’ll have to “cut it off.†When the
patient reacts in terror, Ichibei says, “Oh, all right†and directs his nurse
to bring a pump with a very long hollow needle, and . . . Trust me, you won’t
see a scene like that on “Grey’s Anatomy†or “Dr. Oz.â€
I
first read about “The Fort of Death†years ago -- I think in one of John
Willis’ “Screen World†movie annuals. I had the impression that the film was
intended to be a Japanese version of a Spaghetti Western, bringing full circle
a pattern that began when Akira
Kurosawa’s “Yojimbo†(1961) inspired Sergio Leone’s groundbreaking Spaghetti,
“A Fistful of Dollars†(1964). I don’t see much of a Spaghetti influence,
though, unless Ichibei’s Gatling gun was intended to remind contemporary
viewers of Franco Nero’s machine gun in Sergio Corbucci’s “Django†(1966).
Kurosawa’s
“The Seven Samurai†(1954) would seem to be more of a prototype, at least in
the basic premise of expert warriors coming to the aid of besieged
peasants. But “The Fort of Death†is
mostly action for action’s sake, without the deeper themes of honor and duty
that characterized “The Seven Samurai,†or for that matter Kudo’s own “The
Thirteen Assassins†(1963) and “The Great Killing†(1964). Presumably, an American company will someday
issue an official stateside edition of “The Fort of Death.†In the meantime, a good, home grown, letterboxed, sub-titled print is available on
the collector’s circuit.
By Lee Pfeiffer
(Cinema Retro is pleased to announce that we will be reviewing titles now available on the Warner Archive Instant Streaming Service.)
Warner Archive has released The Venetian Affair as a streaming video title, having previously been released as a burn to order DVD. The intriguing 1967 spy thriller is often mistaken for a Man From U.N.C.L.E. feature film since it stars Robert Vaughn, was released by MGM and features the word "affair" in the title. Yet the movie is far removed from the fanciful world of U.N.C.L.E. In fact it's a refreshingly downbeat espionage drama that was based on a best-selling book by Helen MacInnes. Vaughn plays Bill Fenner, a disgraced ex-CIA man who battles a penchant for booze while trying to eek out a living as a reporter for an international wire service. Fenner is sent to Venice ostensibly to investigate the apparent suicide bombing of an international peace conference committed by a respected U.S. diplomat. Fenner soon discovers he is a pawn in a complex plot that involves mind control and enemy agents. The role afforded Vaughn a chance to showcase his considerable acting skills and he plays Fenner as a moody and not particularly heroic figure. The one trait similar to Napoleon Solo is that he manages to intertwine with some exotic European lovelies including his ex-wife Elke Sommer and mysterious femme fatales Luciana Paluzzi and Felicia Farr.
Although the interiors were obviously filmed at MGM studios, director Jerry Thorpe capitalizes on the exotic sites and sounds of Venice, always a prime location for stories of mystery and intrigue. The movie is largely devoid of humor but reliable character actor Roger C. Carmel provides a few moments of levity. The excellent supporting cast includes Edward Asner as Fenner's crotchety former CIA boss who still harbors hatred for him, Karl Boehm as the enemy agent who masterminds the mind control plot and Boris Karloff, who is refreshingly given an important and intelligent role at a point in his career when he was largely relegated to low-budget Mexican horror movies. The movie also boasts a wonderfully atmospheric score by Lalo Schifrin.
Click here to access the Warner Archive streaming service.
By Rod Barnett
DVD
production company Vinegar Syndrome seems to be trying to pick up the market
that Something Weird Video has cultivated over the past fifteen years or so. And
that is a good thing! Their desire to restore and release as many independently
produced exploitation films as possible is both laudable and impressive. I
count myself as a cult film fan but a look at their list of titles leaves me scratching
my head in wonderment as I have never heard of most of the movies they are
dealing to the public. My few dips into the VS catalog have been interesting,
sleazy fun but I was caught off guard by this disc. The company is following
the Something Weird template of having each DVD comprised of a double feature
of titles that have some kind of themed connection. In this case we have two
set-bound, low budget talky dramas spiced with sex in one case and ..... I'm
not sure what in the other.
The
Candidate (1964) was pitched to me as a sexploitation film staring Ted Knight
and my mind rejected that description sight unseen. There can be no such film,
said logic and reason. Surely the planet would rip asunder if such a movie
existed, said sanity. Ted Knight of The Mary Tyler Moore show engaged in sexual
shenanigans? This cannot be true. And in the end this thought process was proven
right enough for me to retain my intellect after screening the film. Now, there
are sexploitation elements in the film as you might expect with any film that
top lines sex kitten Mamie Van Doren, but those are the least interesting
parts. (Of the film, I mean…) She plays Samantha, a hard working modern woman
who, because of a chance encounter with senatorial candidate Frank Carlton (Ted
Knight), is offered a job by conniving campaign runner Eric (Buddy Parker)
aiming to work for the prospective senator. She agrees and we are then shown
the complicated way various relationships shape the campaign and how it all
falls apart. In a strange choice, the story is related as a series of
flashbacks as the main characters are grilled in front of a Congressional
hearing which causes the film to feel like a mild and overly solemn
courtroom drama. It can be pretty entertaining to watch Eric procure ladies for
the Washington elite but the film bogs down once the shape of the downfall of
Knight's character comes into focus. Parker plays the ruthless Eric as a
cynical bastard and he isn't bad in the role but its Knight who is most
impressive. As his character meets and falls in love with Angela (June
Wilkinson) we see this shy man come alive and have to face the fact that the
woman he cares for will destroy his hoped-for career. Knight is exceptional in
the role, investing great care in showing very nuanced emotions as he struggles
with his options. In the scenes involving his character, the film is solid and
the courtroom sequences are very well- scripted.However, the rest of the movie-
the sexploitation parts- are dry as dust. This is the film's problem- it has
half of a good movie but it has been shackled to a silly lingerie show with
Miss Van Doren. In the end The Candidate isn't a bad movie but it isn't very
good either, which is a shame.
Vinegar
Syndrome has coupled the main feature with a decidedly 'B' picture from 1957
called Johnny Gunman. If The Candidate sometimes felt a bit set-bound, it looks
better with this movie immediately following it. Extremely low budget, the film
seems to have been shot on the cheap and quick with little time for second
takes. The story takes place in New York (I think) as gangster Johnny G (Martin
Brooks) spends a long night hiding out from a rival hood. This other gang boss
named Allie (Johnny Seven) is up for the same new position as Johnny but has
the added impetus of a Lady MacBeth-like girlfriend pushing him to off the
competition. While on the run from gunmen, Johnny finds himself in a cafe where
he threatens the patrons and then propositions the only pretty girl in the
place, Coffee (Ann Donaldson). The other customers don't like the idea of this
nice girl spending all night with this dangerous man so a bargain is worked
out- she will spend two hours with each of the three men who want her attention
over the next six hours. If this sounds artificial, you are right. The rest of
the movie plays out with Coffee spending her required time with each man as she
seeks a story worth writing about- she's a journalist, you see. As you might
expect, she falls for Johnny's criminal charms and must decide if she will
return to her little home town or stay in the big city to love a bad man good. To
call this film dull is to be too nice. It has a 67 minute running time and I
nearly dozed off twice in the first forty-five minutes. The movie feels both
rushed and static with only a few poorly constructed sets on view. The acting
is half-hearted with Miss Donaldson taking top honors as the stiffest actress in
memory. Some of her line deliveries are as if she had never read the script
before walking onto the hastily nailed together set. Ugh! Save yourself the
time and skip it.
The
DVD carries no extras but both movies look very good. The Candidate is in very
sharp black & white anamorphic 1.85:1 widescreen presentation with Johnny
Gunman looking just as good on a 1.33:1 print. I might have wished for some
more information on these movies but in the end I'm just happy they are
available. Well, I'm happy one of them
is available.
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(Visit
Rod Barnett’s blog, The Bloody Pit of Rod for more retro movie reviews).
By Lee Pfeiffer
Having been friends with a number of people in my life who are- or have been- car salesman, one thing becomes clear very quickly: you need to have a thick skin and a good sense of humor in order to survive in this curious profession. Not even bank robbers have seen their reputations degraded as much as car salesman- especially those who specialize in used cars...er, make that "previously owned vehicles", in the parlance of today. As with any profession, generalities can be dangerous. There are undoubtedly many reputable people selling cars but even they will tell you that, behind the scenes, the overriding strategies are to close the deal, no matter what it takes. I've always found it rather ironic that while, on the national level, car companies spend a fortune to present their products in TV ads that have production values that suggest class, style and elegance- while at the local level, car dealers swamp the airwaves with home-made ads that are cheap, cheesy and unintentionally hilarious. The consumer sees an ad during the Super Bowl with a guy who looks like 007 behind the wheel of a spanking new vehicle. Yet his local dealership sells the same product through ads featuring the owner, his mother, his cutesy kids - and in some cases over the top comic scenarios that are something out of the old Second City TV skits. (A local dealer near me is a portly fellow who routinely sells his cars while dressed in tights as a super hero!)
Car dealerships already had shaky reputations by the time director Robert Zemeckis rode a semi over the profession with his 1980 comedy "Used Cars". Twilight Time has released the special 2002 DVD edition as a limited edition (3,000 units) Blu-ray title. The film clearly exploited the new screen freedoms in the realm of tasteless humor that had been introduced a couple of years before by director John Landis with "National Lampoon's Animal House". There are those who consider "Used Cars" to be on par with that comedy classic, while others feel its "everything-but-the-kitchen sink" structure makes it more chaotic than consistently funny. In this writer's opinion, the truth lies somewhere in the middle. Zemeckis and his co-writer Bob Gale had previously written and directed the 1978 film "I Wanna Hold Your Hand", which Steven Spielberg produced. The underrated and largely under-exposed comedy was the antithesis of "Used Cars" in that it was a sweet-natured look at how the arrival of The Beatles in America wreaked havoc on the lives of New York teenagers. Zemeckis and Gale went on to write Spielberg's epic 1979 WWII comedy "1941" before getting the green light to do "Used Cars", which was executive produced by Spielberg and John Milius.
"Used Cars" opens on a cynical shot of Arizona car salesman Rudy Russo (Kurt Russell) tampering with the odometer on a beat-up vehicle in the hopes he can sucker some poor soul into buying it. Rudy is a charismatic young man who is a charming as he is soulless in terms of his moral fiber. He is intent on raising $10,000 so he can afford to be a credible candidate in the forthcoming race for state senator, a job he presumes will enable him to benefit from even greater graft and corruption. Meanwhile, the only person he respects is the owner of the car lot, the elderly Luke Fuchs (Jack Warden), a man in precarious health whose days are clearly numbered. Luke is locked in a constant daily battle with his more affluent brother Roy (also played by Warden) who has a successful car lot directly across the highway from Luke. Despite the fact that Roy's sales far out-gross those of Luke, he is intent on using dirty tricks to gain control over his less fortunate brother's lot so that he can have the biggest dealership in the state. Much of the humor derives from Rudy's intense attempts to use chicanery to outwit Roy's attempts to seize Luke's property. When Luke suddenly expires, Rudy fears that Roy will inherit the car lot. He enlists the assistance of his two slovenly co-workers Jeff (Gerritt Graham) and Jim (Frank McRae) to hatch an audacious plan whereby they bury Luke inside a car on his own lot then try to convince Roy that he has taken a sudden trip to Florida. Roy isn't buying it and uses his affluence to buy off local officials to launch an investigation. Complicating matters is the arrival of Luke's estranged daughter Barbara (Deborah Harmon). Rudy woos and beds her while hiding the fact that her dad is actually dead. As the film unwinds, the story becomes increasingly ludicrous and culminates in a wildly ambitious sequence in which Rudy organizers a fleet of 250 dilapidated vehicles driven by high school students on a race across the Arizona desert as part of a scheme to ensure Barbara inherits her father's car lot.
"Used Cars" boasts some truly amusing performances with Kurt Russell as the glue that holds this disparate cast together. For Russell, who had recently won acclaim for his portrayal of Elvis Presley in a TV movie, the Zemeckis film was pivotal in proving he could also draw audiences to movie theaters. (Heretofore, he was primarily known as the child and teen age star of many Walt Disney films). Every cast member is impressive and adds immeasurably to the fun, but it's Jack Warden's terrific tour de force performance as both brothers that dominates the film. Zemeckis and Gale have some misfires among the machine gun-fire like rapidity of jokes and comic situations, but they score more than they miss their targets. In one amusing sequence, they actually incorporate footage of then President Jimmy Carter in an outlandish manner. The highlight of the film is clearly the junk heap car race across the desert with Rudy and Roy battling each other from side-by-side pick up trucks like a modern version of the "Ben-Hur" chariot race. The sequence is so over-the-top and logistically impressive that you can honestly say that you've never seen anything like it. "Used Cars" has something to offend everyone: vulgar language abounds, there is disrespect for the dead, the American political system is mocked in a cynical manner and there is plenty of gratuitous tits-and-ass. No wonder I feel like watching it again.
The Twilight Time releases keeps the features from the previous special edition DVD including an award-winning 2003 commentary track featuring Zemeckis, Gale and Russell that is delightful throughout. The guys even goof about their own sloppiness in making the film (the opening frames accidentally reveal a soundman's arm and boom mic in a rear view mirror of a car). Clearly, they had as good a time reflecting on the experience as they did in making the film. There is an isolated score by Patrick Williams and an unused score by the estimable Ernest Gold. Additionally, there are radio spots and a TV ad done for a local Arizona car dealership where the movie was shot in which Kurt Russell actually appears (obviously as a favor) on camera with the lot's owner and help's pitch that week's specials on used cars! A gag reel and some outtakes are surprisingly flat and unfunny. There is also an original trailer from the days in which trailers themselves did not have to be rated. Thus, it's packed with gratuitous nudity even though it was screened to family audiences, which must have caused countless parents to have "that" conversation with their kids before they were ready to do so. There is also a terrific gallery of promotional materials including one ad that features notes from Steven Spielberg in which he complains that they may have produced a distasteful movie, but the ad campaign he is rejecting went too far in pointing this out. The movie was released during the presidential election period of 1980 and one ad notes that Ronald Reagan was not the only actor vying for the nation's top office- and invites audiences to see then incumbent President Jimmy Carter's movie debut. (As mentioned previously, this is a sly reference to newsreel footage seen in the film.) This particular ad also featured the likenesses of both candidates. Try doing that today!
The Twilight Time release is top notch. The film is not going to be everyone's cup of tea, but it is inspired lunacy that, at times, makes Animal House look as sophisticated as 'Love's Labour's Lost'.
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By Lee Pfeiffer
MPI Home Video has released producer/director Dan Curtis' 1973 production of "Bram Stoker's Dracula" on Blu-ray. The film was shot for American television and starred Jack Palance as the legendary vampire. The production was released theatrically in some European markets and this Blu-ray is the theatrical cut. In general, vampires had been good to Curtis and he returned the favor by popularizing them in his high profile TV productions such as "Dark Shadows" and "The Night Stalker". For "Dracula", Curtis enlisted some top talent, aside from Palance: legendary screenwriter Richard Matheson and acclaimed cinematographer Oswald Morris, among them. He also spent rather lavishly on the project with location filming in Yugoslavia and England. Matheson's intelligent script follows the Stoker novel in most major respects with the exception of jettisoning the character of Dracula's fawning slave Renfield and the accompanying subplot set in an insane asylum. The action begins with Jonathan Harker's (Murray Brown) arduous journey to Dracula's foreboding castle in Transylvania. The Count ostensibly wants Harker to suggest some real estate holdings so that Dracula can relocate to England. Upon seeing a photograph of Harker's friend Lucy (Fiona Lewis), he is instantly mesmerized. It seems she is the spitting image of his own lover from hundreds of years ago. They were both victims of Dracula's war time enemies and he has been pining away for her ever since having been transformed into a vampire. Matheson and Curtis very much wanted to add this new plot device in order to give the character of Dracula and emotional aspect that was missing from previous cinematic incarnations of the character. As presented here, Dracula is as much victim as villain. His motives are largely related to his quest to make Lucy a reincarnation of his former lover. Thus, he imprisons Harker in his castle and immediately sets about relocating to a home that is near the residences of Lucy and her fiancee Arthur (Simon Ward). Perhaps in the interest of the 98 minute running time, designed to fill a two-hour broadcast slot, Matheson only briefly alludes to the fatal and murderous sea crossing by Dracula in which the entire crew of the passenger ship dies under mysterious and horrific circumstances-- though there is a haunting image of the last victim strapped to the wheel of the ship with a cross clutched in his hand. Once in England, Dracula wastes no time in ensuring that Lucy becomes his victim. This leads to the introduction of Prof. Van Helsing (Nigel Davenport) who correctly diagnoses her bizarre maladies as having been caused by a vampire. The plot then follows the traditional elements of Stoker's novel with the manhunt on for Dracula and attempts to rescue Lucy and Harker's financee (Penelope Horner) from eternal damnation, both having been victimized by the Count.
The centerpiece of any Dracula film, of course, is the actor who plays the title role. Jack Palance makes for a striking visual representation of the Count: tall, imposing and seething with barely-restrained menace. Palance could chew the scenery if he didn't have a strong director, but Dan Curtis keeps him in check and, if anything, his performance may be a bit understated. Nevertheless, it's a very credible interpretation of the role and Palance deserved the kudos he received. Similarly, Curtis does a fine job as director, drenching the action in a menacing atmosphere and getting fine performances from his cast members. (Davenport is particularly good as Van Helsing). Adding to the commendable aspects of the production is Robert Cobert's fine, atmospheric score and Oswald Morris' creative camera angles. The film is a winner on all counts, if you pardon the pun.
The MPI Blu-ray is also very good indeed. The transfer is excellent and the release includes some interesting bonus extras including brief interviews with Palance and Curtis done in the early 1990s. Palance is surprisingly funny and says he had never seen the production, joking that he might have found it too scary. Curtis insists in his interview that Palance was the definitive screen Dracula, something that others may argue with especially when confronted with names like Max Schreck, Christopher Lee and Klaus Kinski. Nevertheless, Curtis' enthusiasm for the film remains apparent even twenty years after it had been filmed. There are also some silent footage snippets identified as deleted scenes when, in fact, they are mostly just different camera angles. Most interesting is a comparison between scenes in the TV and theatrical versions. The main differences are confined to scenes in which vampires are "staked" by Van Helsing. Predictably, the theatrical takes are far gorier with oceans of blood ejecting from the mouths of the vampires There is also a theatrical trailer that seems to have been intended for the British market.
In total, a very worthy release of a very worthy take on a timeless literary masterpiece.
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By Lee Pfeiffer
Sex may be fun but it shouldn't be funny, at least when it comes to erotic filmmaking. That's my humble opinion, anyway. Most people would seem to disagree and from the inception of porn cinema, goofy comedy has been routinely blended with the more traditional aspects of the genre. Case in point: "Honey Buns", which was shot under the title "Heads or Tails" back in 1973 by director James Chiara. If that was his real name ("nom de plumes" were standard in the industry), nothing more has been heard from his since. The film is standard grind house fare from the period, with fairly low production values and a few exterior shots in L.A. to give the production a bit of atmosphere. Chiara, who is also credited as the writer, provides a familiar scenario: a nerdy male virgin who seems hopelessly destined to have his sexual fantasies remain unfulfilled. Here, our protagonist is Harry (Matt Hewitt, an odd-looking duck with an even odder, hard-to-place accent.) When we first meet Harry he is laboring as a clerk in the small office of a feminine hygiene company. He is working under the oppressive rule of a tyrannical, Captain Bligh-type boss who enjoys berating him in front of his sexy secretary, who he routinely takes into "private meetings" for some quickie sexual gratification. Alone and miserable, Harry's fortunes seem to change when he encounters an eccentric street magician who gives him a magic pill (this was pre-Viagara era, mind you) that allows Harry to conjure up the bed mates of his dreams, each of whom is completely submissive to his desires. However, as with all such fantasies, there is a down side- literally. Every time Harry is about to consummate the act, he finds that the ladies vanish into thin air. The film follows the frustrated Harry as he tries to find a solution to his problem. In between, the viewer is treated to a good deal of hard core action, some genuinely steamy, but most of which is compromised by the presence of this unappealing leading man. It's like watching "Last Tango in Paris" with Jerry Lewis in the Brando role. The movie boasts appearances by two of the cult sex symbols of the day, porn legend Rene Bond and the supremely endowed Uschi Digard, whose appearance is somewhat of a tease. She struts around in a mini skirt but leaves the rest to the viewer's imagination. Most of the film's gags are rather lame and predictable but there is no doubt that there always has been a market for these rather non-threatening porn releases that emphasize humor as much as sexual content.
As usual, Impulse Pictures does a good job of presenting a long-forgotten "B" movie in a fairly respectable manner. The transfer elements are fine although the packaging lacks the informative liner notes that accommodate some of the company's releases.
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Timeless Media, which is affiliated with Shout! Factory, has released the classic 1960s TV series "I Spy" in a boxed set that contains all 82 episodes. Although Image Entertainment had released the series previously on DVD, this marks the first time the show is available in its entirety in one set. The show was one of many TV series that capitalized on the recent success of the James Bond films. Suddenly, TV and cinemas were playing spy-related fare virtually non-stop. NBC had some of the best elements of the spymania craze with "The Man From U.N.C.L.E.", Get Smart" and "I Spy". The latter series premiered in 1965 and ran three seasons through 1968. It presented Robert Culp as Kelly Robinson, who uses his status as an international tennis pro as a cover for his activities as a CIA agent. He is assisted by his good friend Alexander Scott (Bill Cosby), who ostensibly is his trainer, but who is also a top spy for the American government. What set the series apart from most of the competition was producer Sheldon Leonard's determination to spend a lot of money on the show. While the men from U.N.C.L.E's "foreign" intrigue was limited to stock footage and back lot sets, the "I Spy" guys really got to travel to exotic locations around the world. Consequently, the show has a glamorous aspect lacking in most other action adventure series from the period. Then there was the fact that in an era of hip spies, Culp and Cosby were arguably the hippest. They traded genuinely funny wisecracks that often seem improvised. The series was also significant from a social issues standpoint. Bill Cosby was the first African American leading man to play a dramatic role in a weekly TV series. He was awarded numerous Emmys for his performance but his presence in the show was controversial during an era when anti-segregation laws in the South had to enforced by gun-toting National Guardsman. Some southern affiliates of NBC refused to air the series. Cosby, who was by then a well-known stand-up comic, always credited Culp for putting his career on the line for him by insisting that either Cosby got the co-starring role, or he would quit the show before it even got under way. There is no real way to measure the impact Cosby's presence on the series had on young African American kids. However, I was in grade school when the show aired and the racial mix in the school was about 50/50. Suddenly, black kids finally had their own TV icon to admire and he was arguably the hippest of all the action stars of the era. Cos looked good in a tux, wooed pretty ladies and was an intrepid man of action.
We have obviously not viewed every one of the 82 episodes contained on the 18 DVDs in this set but a random look indicates the quality of the transfers is top notch. The series has also aged very well and, like the Bond movies, never seems out of date. Culp and Cosby still generate terrific chemistry together as well as with some of the big name guest stars who range from Don Rickles and Jim Brown to young Ron Howard. The only gripe is that one wishes there were at least a few bonus extras to point out the impact of the series and its significance in pop and societal culture. Image Entertainment had released a couple of special DVDs titled The Robert Culp Collection in which the actor provided commentary tracks. Those are not included here so you may want to hang on to them even if you add this irresistible new set to your DVD collection.
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