BY JOHN M. WHALEN

Throughout history there have been men born to see the future and to do what they can to make it happen. Without exception they are branded lunatics, fanatics and most often end up on the wrong side of the law. Such a man was abolitionist John Brown. In 1856, Kansas was about to enter the Union. The question was whether it would join as a free or a slave state. At a time when the nation could not make up its mind about slavery, Brown knew instinctively it was evil and that the future would prove him right. Brown and his seven sons fought to make Kansas free.

“Seven Angry Men” (1955) presents Raymond Massey’s third portrayal of John Brown. He first played the role in “Santa Fe Trail” (1940) and on Broadway in “John Brown’s Body” (1953). Brown’s seven sons are played by Jeffrey Hunter (Owen), Larry Pennell (Oliver), Dennis Weaver (John, Jr.), John Smith (Frederick), Guy Williams (Salmon), Tom Irish (Watson) and James Best (Jake).

Directed by Charles Marquis Warren from a script by Daniel B. Ullman “Seven Angry Men” is an accurate and thoughtful screen treatment of Brown’s story. It begins by showing the simmering conflict between the two sides of the slavery issue. Leo Gordon plays Martin White, leader of the pro-slavery faction in Lawrence. In the first standoff we see the terrible costs the Brown family paid for the patriarch’s actions, when we witness John Jr., (Weaver) starting to crumble emotionally. After White burns Lawrence to the ground to cleanse it of abolitionists, Brown retaliates by killing several of the perpetrators in a face-to-face fight with guns and knives. The brutality of the killings causes John Jr. to lose his mind. Jake quits the fight and rides off to surrender to the army to get John, Jr. some medical attention. He is soon followed by Frederick. Left with three sons, Brown continues the battle, saying they have “planted the seeds of freedom that will flourish with God’s help.”

Jeffrey Hunter as Owen is the brother caught in the middle between his loyalty to his father and his fear of where the old man’s fanaticism will lead. Debra Paget is Hunter’s love interest. When she begs him to get his father to stop what he’s doing, Brown calls his son a weak coward. Nevertheless Owen stays with him even after Oliver and Salmon desert him. Brown fights on regardless and the first half of the movie ends with Kansas’ entry into the Union as a free state, with Brown claiming victory.

The second half follows Brown on a fund raising tour that leads him to Boston where no lesser personages than Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David Thoreau contribute $1,000 apiece to the cause. Brown invests the money in rifles and ammo to be sent to Harpers Ferry, W.Va. Brown, now reunited with three of his sons, and 15 other men seize the arsenal there, planning to arm the slaves, who Brown believes will march to Harper’s Ferry once they know he plans to free them. Of course, none of it worked, and one wonders if Brown wasn’t truly mad to think it would.

He is arrested by Union officers Jeb Stuart and Col. Robert E. Lee. At his trial for treason, an affidavit is presented claiming mental illness ran in Brown’s family, but he rejected any attempt to get off on an insanity plea. He tells the court that he acted on behalf of the poor and the helpless and if he must give his life “so be it.” He was hanged in Harper’s Ferry Dec 2, 1859.

Owen, the only son to survive, offers to gather men to rescue him, saying there are abolitionist leaders all over the country in support of him. But he refuses, saying he was glad to know there were many in the nation who did not consider him insane or a murderer. But he believed he was worth “inconceivably more to hang than any other purpose.”

Overall, “Seven Angry Men” shows us an interesting slice of history and will probably tell you a few things about Brown and his mission to free slaves that you didn’t know. It also shows how far a man will go for what he believes in. In Brown’s case, he went all the way, taking quite a few people with him. He was a man of passionate beliefs, but strangely the film itself is very dispassionate. Massey’s portrayal keeps histrionics to a bare minimum. The entire production, while taking great pains to tell the story in detail and as accurately as possible, lacks the passion and fire you’d expect. Director Charles Marquis Warren seemed to deliberately hold the emotional temperature down with the emphasis more on historical facts. It’s a far cry from the way today’s filmmakers work. One can easily imagine what Tarantino or Stone would do with this material.

Warner Brothers Archive Collection presents “Seven Angry Men” in a no-frills DVD with no extras. The black and white picture is adequate in widescreen 16x9, and 1.85:1 aspect ratio. Worth viewing for its cast and as a refresher course on the days leading up to the abolition of slavery. History buffs will enjoy it the most. 

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By Lee Pfeiffer

We've often written about the shameful conceit of movie studios that used to cast caucasian actors in leading roles pertaining to ethnic minorities. Sure, it was fine to have actual minority actors playing supporting roles (often for comic effect) but the most important characters were generally always portrayed by white actors or actresses (remember Rex Harrison as The King of Siam???). Sadly, this blatant policy of racial prejudice often extended to films that were sympathetic to the very races they were portraying. Case in point: Geronimo, a 1962 Western that purports to tell the story of the legendary Apache leader who stood virtually alone against the U.S. government, even after most of his tribe was browbeaten into surrendering. The logic at United Artists at the time was that there was no actor more appropriate to play a famous Native American other than Chuck Connors, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed poster boy for the Aryan race. Connors was riding high at the time as the star of the popular TV series The Rifleman, and he certainly possessed an imposing physique as well as more-than-adequate acting abilities. However, even with contact lenses and a black Morticia Addams wig, there is no doubt he was completely miscast as Geronimo. This was also the case with fellow cast members Kamala Devi, a gorgeous flash-in-the-pan actress who worked on several projects with Connors before fading into oblivion and Ross Martin (!), the fine actor primarily known for playing Artemus Gordon in the Wild, Wild West TV series. Not only are all these folks woefully wrong for their roles, the characters talk in modern vernacular that makes you think they must be part of the obscure Apache tribe from Bayonne,  New Jersey.

If you love the Warner Archive's DVD and Blu-ray releases, you won't be able to resist their streaming service, which offers hundreds of retro movies and TV episodes. The Archive is offering one month free for new subscribers. Click on the banner above of Duke Wayne as "Chisum" to visit the site.  

The Shout! Factory video company has launched an excellent new streaming site, www.shoutfactorytv.com that features dozens of classic TV episodes and cult movies every month. Best of all, you can view them for free! This month we recommend the 1970 Amicus horror flick "The House That Dripped Blood", a 1970  anthology of terror tales by Robert Bloch, author of "Psycho" and starring Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing, Ingrid Pitt and John Pertwee. Click here to view. 

BY LEE PFEIFFER

By 1963, Vincent Price was generally recognized as the heir apparent to Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi as the undisputed king of the horror film genre. Somewhat lost in discussion's of Price's work is the fact that, until he starred in "House of Wax" in the mid-1950s, he had a long career as a popular and respected supporting actor in mainstream Hollywood productions. If there is a sad aspect to his international success as a horror star, it's that his talents were rarely used henceforth in films of other genres. Nonetheless, Price knew a good thing when he saw it. His collaborations with producer Roger Corman on cinematic versions of classic Edgar Allan Poe stories had proven to be wildly successful. Price wasn't overly selective about working with other producers who sought to capitalize on those films by making blatant imitations of Corman's productions. One such title is "Diary of a Madman", released in 1963 and based on a story by French writer Guy de Maupassant.  In some ways, the film is a worthy rival to a Corman/Price collaboration in that it's intelligently scripted, well-cast and has a relatively creative production design that somewhat masks the movie's threadbare budget. As with the Corman flicks, Price is given a meaty role and he makes the most of it. He plays Simon Cordier, a respected French judge in the late 19th century. He has a reputation for fairness and an obsession with studying the criminal mind in the hope of understanding what motivates some men to commit horrendous crimes of violence. The film opens with Cordier receiving a request to meet with a prisoner who he has sentenced to die on the guillotine. The man is a serial killer and Cordier is interested in taking the opportunity to speak to the prisoner, whose behavior has left him baffled. The man was a pillar-of-the-community type with no criminal background a stable profession. Upon meeting the condemned prisoner in his cell, the doomed convict informs Cordier that he welcomes his imminent execution because he has been inexplicably possessed by an invisible being known as the Horla. He relates an incredible story about this creature periodically taking over control of his body and mind and forcing him to commit acts of murder. As the incredulous Cordier tries to absorb this fanciful tale, the man suddenly attacks him. In defending himself, Cordier hurls the prisoner against a wall, killing him instantly. 

Back in his chambers, Cordier is haunted by the experience but doesn't think much more of it- until some strange occurrences leave him disturbed. Seems that Cordier's irresponsible behavior had somehow been responsible for the accidental death of his wife and young son years before. Cordier has tried to block the bad memories from his mind by locking away all mementos relating to them, including a large framed photograph that had been stored in his attic. He is shocked to find it hanging prominently on the wall of his study. His loyal butler (Ian Wolfe) denies having placed it there. Other strange occurrences lead Cordier to question his mental stability. A psychiatrist assures him that he is suffering from fatigue and urges him to delve back into his passion for sculpting, which he has ignored for years. Cordier follows his advice and begins to feel more relaxed. Things only get better when he has a chance encounter with a vivacious and flirtatious young woman named Odette (Nancy Kovack), who agrees to be a paid model for him. She begins a campaign to seduce Cordier, never telling him that she is actually married to a financially-strapped artist, Paul (Chris Warfield). When Paul objects to the amount of time that Odette is spending in Cordier's studio, she assures him she is only trying to earn money that they desperately need. In reality, she is a heartless gold digger who is weighing the option of leaving Paul for the older man. Oblivious to all this, Cordier is happy to have found love once again. His mood, however, is rudely disrupted when he realizes the cause of the strange things that have been going on in his house: it seems that the Horla has chosen to possess him in retribution for killing the prisoner whose body it once inhabited. Although Cordier can not see the Horla, he discovers it is a physical presence who can not only speak to him, but can also utilize a number of cruel witticisms that he uses to mock and humiliate the esteemed  jurist.  From this point on, Cordier's life is a living hell. In rational moments, he tries frantically to figure out how to rid himself of this ghoulish presence, but the Horla retains control of his mind and body at will. This leads to Cordier carrying out a particularly gruesome murder, leaving him desperate to find a way out of his tortured existence. He devises a last-ditch effort to lure the Horla into his study where he hopes to kill him through use of his one vulnerability: fire. The resulting consequences are dramatic but have tragic results even for Cordier. 

"Diary of a Madman" is mid-range Price fare from this period. The entire enterprise rides on the actor shoulders, but they prove to be broad enough to carry it off. Price looks dashing and, as always, puts his best efforts into even a modest enterprise such as this. Nancy Kovack also gives a fine performance as a bad girl who, refreshingly, never learns to redeem herself as she cuckolds both of her lovers in turn. The film is not exceptional on any level, but it is consistently entertaining an reasonably engrossing.

The MGM made-on-demand DVD features a very impressive transfer and an original trailer is included in which Price (in character) breaks the "Fourth Wall" and addresses the viewer directly.  

By Lee Pfeiffer

A film that became a legendary bomb, the 1977 Western The White Buffalo has been re-evaluated by movie fans in recent years and many consider it to be an underrated classic. Count me out of this assessment. The film is certainly unique: an ambitious attempt to blend the Western and horror film genres, but it falls short on most counts.The United Artists production stars Charles Bronson as Wild Bill Hickcok, who- for reasons never adequately explained- is haunted by terrifying nightmares involving him in a life-or-death confrontation with a giant white buffalo. I didn't know that buffalo come in colors, but I'll cede the point. (Given the dreadful styles of the 1970s, it's surprising the film wasn't titled The Plaid Buffalo.) Simultaneously, Chief Crazy Horse (Will Sampson) is having his own white buffalo problems. Seems the actual rampaging beast wreaked havoc on his village and killed his child. In order to restore his pride and stature among the tribe, he must hunt down and slaughter the animal- or be stuck with the monicker of "The Worm" henceforth. (This must be the Indian equivalent of "nerd".)

The two men are on obsessive journeys and are destined to meet up - but both feel they have the singular right to kill the buffalo. Hickcok meanders through some cow towns under an alias and hooks up with a mountain man geezer (Jack Warden, channeling the ghost of Gabby Hayes) who decides to accompany him on his quest. When Hickcok and Crazy Horse do meet up, they end up saving each other's life in respective ambushes and declare themselves blood brothers. Despite this, each man is determined to be the one who slays the white buffalo.

The film is moody and atmospheric and at times is offbeat enough that, if it weren't for the Colorado scenery, one might suspect this is an Italian Western. Nevertheless, the screenplay by producer, screenwriter and director Richard Sale (based on his novel) is erratic and contains many disparate elements that never blend together in a satisfactory manner. The film is peppered with welcome appearances by many Western favorites (Stuart Whitman, Slim Pickens, John Carradine) but their characters are superfluous and smack of gimmicky cameos. Clint Walker shows up briefly, well-cast and playing against type as a villain. There is also the rather odd presence of Kim Novak in a nothing role as a good-hearted hooker who suffers the humiliation of being rejected by Hickcok even as he shares her bed. (This must be the first case of erectile dysfunction caused by a white buffalo.)

The movie was an attempt by producer Dino De Laurentiis to exploit the dying Western genre by finding a way to incorporate elements of Jaws. De Laurentiis seemed to have a fixation on giant, mythic animals taking vengeance on mankind, as he produced "King Kong", "Orca" and "The White Buffalo" all within a two-year period. Despite the prestigious cast and the fact that this was a United Artists production, the budget was clearly skimpy. The film abounds with shoddy rear screen projection shots and some amateurish sets, particularly in the mountain sequences set at night. There's plenty of plastic snow and the sets are somewhat less realistic than a Christmas window display at Macy's. Then there is the titular character of which much has been written in movie lore. Apparently devoid of anything other than a $20 bill for special effects work, the white buffalo is generally shot in extreme closeup in very brief cuts to mask its ludicrous appearance. Although the buffalo is seemingly immortal and can crash through mountains of snow and cave walls, it never looks any more menacing than a slightly perturbed mountain goat. The analogies to Moby Dick also become a bit too obvious especially when Crazy Horse rides atop the beast, flaying at it with a knife. (just like Ahab and the whale- get it?) All of this is set to an atmospheric if somewhat low-key score by John Barry that fits the proceedings well.

Perhaps the most unintentionally amusing aspect of the movie is the initial meetings between Hickcok and Crazy Horse. The two men face each other and gesture with elaborate Indian sign language- despite the fact they are simultaneously speaking to each other in perfect English! This is as practical as using signal flags to communicate with a dinner companion and seems more suited to an episode of Police Squad.

Despite all of these criticisms, there is something admirable about the concept of The White Buffalo in that the film at least tries to be an original take on an age-old genre. It also represents one of the last movies in which Charles Bronson at least tried to stretch his acting muscles. With his saggy eyes and droopy mustache, he's perfectly cast as Hickcok. The failure of this film seemed to discourage his professional ambitions. With a couple of exceptions (Telefon, Death Hunt) Bronson went happily into B movie hell, churning out low-rent but profitable potboilers aimed at inner city and drive-in audiences. The shame of it is that he also encouraged once respected directors like J. Lee Thompson and Michael Winner to go along with him.

The White Buffalo was one of those major failures that initiated the virtual end of the Western film genre, and it was Heaven's Gate three years later that nailed the coffin shut. The Bronson film has grown in stature as a curiosity in the ensuing years and apologists claim that the chintzy set pieces must have been intended in order to convey the dream-like quality of the plot. Much the same has been said of Hitchcock's Marnie, which was also heavily criticized for its abysmal sets, rear screen production work and use of matte paintings. However, in both cases the hypothesis seems unlikely. They were simply troubled productions overseen by directors who seem to have lost interest in their respective projects. Universal ended up losing money on the Hitchcock drama while United Artists was forced to pick up the tab for the buffalo bill, if you'll pardon the pun.

The White Buffalo has recently been re-released by Kino Lorber Studio Classics. The new transfer is superb, which only makes the white buffalo look even phonier, but that just adds to the fun.  An original trailer is included and this time around, a commentary track has been added by Paul Talbot, author of the terrific "Bronson's Loose" books. Talbot admits he's obsessed by Bronson and his films and provides a master class on the making of The White Buffalo. His track is highly informative, if lacking in humor, as he discusses the career credits of virtually every actor who appears in a speaking role. Talbot's contribution makes the film worth obtaining, even if you had the earlier version.

BY LEE PFEIFFER

The popular John Wayne flick "McLintock!" has had a long, tortured history in terms of its video releases. The film fell out of copyright for a while in the 1980s and 1990s, resulting in any number of cheapo VHS and DVD editions being sold in "dollar stores". Recently Olive Films released a Blu-ray edition of the film, sans any  special features. Shortly thereafter, Paramount released a Blu-ray of a previously issued "Authentic Collector's Edition"  DVD that is loaded with fascinating extras. The film represented the first time Wayne had been directed by Andrew V. McLaglen, son of his old John Ford stock company buddy Victor McLaglen. Both Wayne and Andrew's careers owed their very existence to Ford and they learned well from the master in terms of how to make comedy/action films that would have broad appeal. "McLintock!" is basically the best John Ford film that Ford never directed. It has all the elements of a traditional Ford production: a battle of the sexes between a strong-willed leading man and an equally strong-willed leading lady; eccentric characters played by eccentric character actors; a snappy musical score and at least one big brawl played out in a humorous manner (in this case, the famous group fight scene in a mud pit). 

"McLintock!" reunited Wayne with his favorite leading lady Maureen O'Hara, who had co-starred with him in Ford's "The Quiet Man", "Rio Grande" and "The Wings of Eagles".  (They teamed for the final time in 1971 for "Big Jake".) O'Hara was one of the few actresses who could stand up to Wayne in terms of screen presence. Here, they play the familiar roles of an estranged couple. Wayne is George Washington McLintock (known by one and all as "G.W."), a cattle baron so successful that the town he lives in bares his name. He is separated from his fiery-tempered wife Katherine (O'Hara), who returns to town unexpectedly to try to convince McLintock to allow their teenage daughter Becky (Stefanie Powers) to live with her in the big city. That's pretty much the entire plot. Before long, G.W. and Katherine are battling like boxers going the full fifteen rounds. The film is an obvious western-based adaptation of Shakespeare's "The Taming of the Shrew", which means that although Katherine is allowed to be seen initially as a strong, independent woman, in the end she is pacified by her husband and becomes a compliant Stepford-like wife.  In a finale guaranteed to cause Hilary Clinton agitta, G.W. subjects Katherine to the humiliation of being spanked in public in front of a cheering crowd. Anyone who has progressed from a Neanderthal state will find this element of the film a bit cringe-inducing, but if viewed within the context of its era, it is undeniably amusing. In between the shouting and the spanking, G.W. and Katherine alternate between insulting each other like a frontier version of Ralph and Alice Kramden and making goo-goo eyes at each other. There's no doubt that the film will have a storybook ending and the corn quotient is fairly high. Nevertheless, "McLintock!" is such rollicking good fun that its charms are almost impossible to resist. Much of the film's charm comes from its sheer exuberance in portraying amusing people in amusing situations. There is no gravitas on display and the closest we get to some meaningful drama is when G.W.and Katherine stare longingly into each other's eyes after a period of estrangement, indicating that, despite their fiery tempers and constant arguments, these are two people who are not only madly in love but also quite lustful toward each other. Director McLaglen keeps the action flowing in true Fordian style and it's safe to say there isn't a dull moment. A lot of people get punched and some guns get fired, but no one really gets hurt. All of the shenanigans are set to composer Frank De Vol's lively and catchy score. The film was in theaters the same week that President Kennedy was assassinated. Perhaps the presence of John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara in a feel-good movie like this provided some solace to a grieving nation. In any event, "McLintock!" proved to be one of the Duke's biggest boxoffice hits. It also had a long, successful run on television in the pre-cable/home video era. Over the years, it was shown on prime time by all three major networks and enjoyed big ratings each time. 

Original trade magazine ad.

The Paramount Blu-ray  carries over the extras from the DVD release and is the definitive home video version of the film. Extras include:

• Audio commentary that is jam-packed with vintage interviews with the film's producer, Michael Wayne; director Andrew V. McLaglen, film historians Leonard Maltin and Frank Thompson and cast members Michael Pate and Stefanie Powers. 
• A "making of" documentary is broken down into three sections. One provides some interesting insights into Michael Wayne's decision to devote the years after his father's death to raising money for the cancer foundation that bares the Duke's name. Another featurette spotlights Maureen O'Hara and Stefanie Powers and the third delves into shooting the famous mud pit fight.
• Another featurette shows veteran stuntmen Tom Morga and Wayne Bauer demonstrating how to throw punches convincingly.
• An odd but entertaining mini-documentary about the corsets women wore back in the 19th century. Today, we would call the procedure for getting into one of these contraptions "torture".
• Photo gallery
• Original trailer

The quality of the transfer is simply terrific. "McLintock!" never looked so good. 

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BY DARREN ALLISON

Alexander “Sandy” Mackendrick had enjoyed a succession of triumphs in England. Working out of Ealing studios, he directed such memorable comedies as The Man in the White Suit, Whiskey Galore and the deliciously dark The Ladykillers. As the Ealing factory system began to dry up, Mackendrick made an arguably unlikely move to America. It was through a number of mishaps, unfulfilled projects and (one could argue) a degree of ‘fate’ that Sweet smell of success eventually fell into the lap of Mackendrick. 

Whilst there was little doubt of Mackendrick’s immense ability as a director, there was perhaps an element of doubt whether he could actually undertake a film such as Sweet Smell of Success. After all, those subtle British films were about as far removed as one could possibly imagine when compared to the media dynamics and fuelled corruption of this screenplay. However, Mackendrick had a good eye; a very good eye in fact. Given time to observe the city he knew how to capture it at its best. Through the camera lens, Mackendrick presented Manhattan better than any other contemporary film had done and as a result, undoubtedly influenced esteemed future directors such as Woody Allen.

The film’s ‘master and dog’ relationship between newspaper columnist J.J. Hunsecker (Burt Lancaster, playing a thinly-disguised Walter Winchell) and the Machiavellian press publicist Sidney Falco (Tony Curtis) is the only one of importance. Lancaster was never more imposing as Hunsecker, whilst Curtis displays a slimy charm and a sickening depravity as Falco. As the relationship unfolds, it becomes a battle of wits and power - Falco believes himself to be in a symbiotic relationship with J.J. — he provides him with the stories he needs - but, by the close, the power imbalance is made depressingly obvious. Feeding off the crumbs left by Hunsecker, Sidney is always destined to be consumed by J.J.’s domineering dictatorship. Whilst Sweet Smell of Success remains a stunning piece of work, it is also not without its flaws - specifically in the romantic relationship between Hunsecker’s sister Susan (Susan Harrison) and Steve (Martin Milner) an aspiring young a jazz musician. Not that there is anything wrong with this coiling plot- the story of Susan’s sinisterly over-protective brother and his scheming through Falco to dishonour Steve’s reputation provides the film’s central narrative. All of it works perfectly. However, it is sadly the performances from the inexperienced Harrison and Milner that hamper the film’s vibrant energy and pace – they are both limp and damp. In contrast, such powerhouse performances from both Lancaster and Curtis, and the provision of a razor sharp script by Ernest Lehman and Clifford Odets – still cements Sweet Smell of Success as one of the greatest films of its kind. Combined with James Wong Howe’s sumptuous deep-focus cinematography and Elmer Bernstein’s brassy musical score and you are left with something damn near close to a perfect movie.

Arrow’s newly restored High Definition (1080p) presentation is a 4K digital transfer from the original 35mm camera negative – and frankly it looks incredible. As Sweet Smell of Success is such a personal favourite of mine, I have followed its evolution on home video - through VHS, laserdisc, DVD and now Blu-ray. it’s been an interesting journey but I feel confident that I have finally arrived at my destination. The film has never looked so crisp and clean. It is spotless and always deserved to look this good. There are a couple of location scenes that look a little ‘too’ real for my liking. I’ve always considered there may be a few lengths of stock footage involved here, but I can’t be sure. Regardless, these random shots fall seamlessly in line with the general atmosphere and harsh realism of the urban setting. Wong Howe’s photography is defined by deep dark blacks, varying arrays of grey shade and subtle use of intelligent lighting. Pin- striped suites and intense close ups are all solid and reveal sharply defined detail. Lancaster’s face and glasses (permanently lit from above) creates a near ‘skull like’ shadow upon his cold gaze, the results of which look rather spectacular in this new Blu-ray edition.

Arrow continue to supply the audio in an original untampered and uncompressed PCM mono 1.0, which is clean and free from any distortion. Extras consist of an appreciation by critic and film historian Philip Kemp, author of Lethal Innocence: The Cinema of Alexander Mackendrick. Kemp appears in the top left of screen presenting a detailed analysis of the film while several scenes are presented. He also provides a selected scene commentary, taking several key and expanding on detail. It does nevertheless raise the question – why didn’t Kemp provide a full commentary track? The man is obviously an expert on the movie and his knowledge would have been very welcome (and valuable) throughout.

The bonus highlight for me is Mackendrick: The Man Who Walked Away – Dermot McQuarrie’s 1986 Scottish Television documentary which features extensive interviews with Mackendrick, Burt Lancaster, producer James Hill, Gordon Jackson and many others. It’s a great example of how documentaries of this kind use to be made – rather than the quick, cross cutting MTV style of documentary making today. It’s certainly one to take time over and enjoy fully.

The film’s original theatrical trailer is also included.

Arrow has again spared no expense in terms of packaging. They have provided a reversible sleeve featuring both an original poster and newly commissioned artwork by Chris Walker. The collector’s booklet (40 pages) includes new writing on the film by Michael Brooke and Mackendrick’s own analysis of various script drafts. It is also illustrated throughout with original stills and posters. It all makes for a wonderful package and one that should be savoured – ‘I love this dirty town!’

CLICK LINK BELOW TO ORDER:

http://www.arrowfilms.co.uk/

BY DOUG OSWALD

Nicolas Cage is a workhorse and may be one of the busiest actors today. In an era where big name actors might release a single movie per year, Cage typically comes out with three, four or even five. At any given time he may have over a half dozen movies in various stages of production. Cage is a good actor, often a very good actor, and has made some very entertaining movies that stand up to repeat viewings. I enjoy much of what he does from the over-the-top supernatural action-horror movies “Ghost Rider” and “Drive Angry,” to the adventure-mystery “National Treasure” franchise and his voice work for about a half-dozen animated movies. His list of credits and genres is vast and, if his movie output is any indication, he’s a very busy guy. This can be a good thing for Cage fans, but may result in a mixed bag for movie fans when an actor has too much exposure. Fortunately for Cage, he’s pretty good in just about everything he does.

In “Outcast,” Cage plays Gallain and he’s teamed with Hayden Christensen as Jacob. Gallain and Jacob are 12th century crusader knights who are becoming increasingly weary of killing as they travel from the Middle East to the Far East. We witness the ruthlessness of Jacob through the eyes of his mentor Gallain as he kills the members of a defeated Moorish army that refuses to surrender. Even women and children are not spared Jacob’s murderous wrath. When we meet Jacob again three years later, he’s an opium addict searching for his former mentor as well as redemption for his past sins. He finds this redemption as the protector of a princess and her younger brother who is the rightful new king. Both are fleeing the terror of their older brother and warrior, Prince Shing, played by Andy On, who was passed over in favor of his younger brother for the throne and murdered his dying father, the king. Shing is very similar to Jacob in his bloodlust and this is what his father wishes to avoid in a new king.

The relationship between Jacob and the young king is right out of the classic American western genre playbook. While this movie is no “Shane,” it is an interesting melding of American and Chinese action adventure and, fortunately, everyone speaks perfect English. Jacob agrees to safely transport the princess Lian, played by Chinese model/actress Liu Yifei, and her younger brother Zhao, played by Bill Su Jiahang. The boy forms the expected bond and the princess falls in love with their protector as they make their way to safety while fleeing the older brother who has sent out an order to kill his younger siblings. The young king begs to learn how to use a bow as expertly as Jacob and they pause for a time. During this training we see a flashback of a young Jacob undergoing training by his mentor, Gallain, who we have not seen since the opening scenes. Cage eventually returns and he turns out to be the near mythical “white ghost” referred to throughout the first part of the movie.

The big news for Star Wars fans is the release this week of the digital movie collection consisting of the six film entries in the legendary saga. For full details, click here. 

BY JOHN WHALEN 

An eleven-year old Indian girl is sold by her father to a thirty-year-old man for a cow and a rusty bicycle. Torn from her mother’s arms the child is taken home, beaten, raped and turned into a slave, all the while being abused and taunted by the local villagers because she is from a lower caste. She runs away and tries to go home, but is looked upon as an outcast.  In a society where women are considered lower than cattle, she grows up enduring terrible punishment, including more beatings, rapes and eventual homelessness. She is kidnapped by bandits falls in love with the bandit leader and becomes a legend known throughout India as “Bandit Queen,” stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. She kills the 21 men she accused of gang-raping her, and surrenders to authorities before a crowd of 10,000 supporters. She serves 11 years in prison and when freed, runs on her popularity as a champion of the poor, and is elected to Parliament, only to be assassinated by a member of a higher caste at age 37.

This is the story of Phoolan Devi, played as an adult by Seema Biswas, and although it sounds like something that happened hundreds of years ago in a dark age of ignorance and cruelty her story took place in India, between 1963 and 2001. She was 37 years old when she died. Some of the things that happen in Shekar Kapur’s biographical film “Bandit Queen” (1994) were disputed by the Indian government, which sought to have the film banned. Even Devi sued to block the film’s release, claiming it made her look too much like a “sniveling woman.” But if only half the incidents portrayed in the movie are true, it is not only an unflinchingly realistic drama of a woman’s guts and determination to survive and overcome unbelievable adversity, it is also a searing indictment of a nation whose laws and culture create an environment where such things can happen. One can only hope that the situation in the rural areas of India, where this story occurred, have improved by now.

Kapur’s indictment starts at the top, by attacking the mindset and religious beliefs that permit a social system that divides people into upper and lower castes. The film begins with a quote from a sacred Hindu text that states: “Animals, drunks, illiterates, low castes and woman are worthy of beating.” The powerlessness of women is shown when the 11-year old girl’s mother can only watch in sorrow as her daughter is taken away and again when the bridegroom’s mother can only sit silently outside the room listening to Phoolan’s screams as her son beats and rapes the child.

The film is deliberately infuriating and at times difficult to watch. And if all Kapur wanted to do was create a diatribe against India’s caste system, and extol the virtues of its central character, it wouldn’t be much of a film. But his theme is larger. As he explains in audio commentary provided on the disc, the central vision that guided him through what he admits was a challenging and difficult movie to make, can be summed up in two words: oppression and survival. No matter how difficult Phoolan’s circumstances became, she never submitted to it willingly. Through everything she maintained an inborn defiance, and a spirit of rebellion that got her through it all, though at considerable cost.

In the middle of the film she falls in love with her bandit gang co-leader, but by now she cannot stand the touch of a man. At first all she can do to respond to him is to hit him and let him hit her back. He understands her psychology and eventually breaks through to her. But by now her mind is saturated with revenge and blood lust because of all the hardships she endured and the climax of the story comes when she orders the massacre of the 21 higher-caste men in a village who raped her. Significantly, in almost a Sam Peckinpah-ish touch, Kapur has a naked baby standing at a well crying in the midst of the carnage. It’s a telling image.

Twilight Time has released a limited edition BluRay of “Bandit Queen.” The image is for the most part sharp and clear though some night scenes had too much grain, which are probably in the original film elements The only special features are the director’s audio commentary and a separate track containing the score by composer Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. There is also a booklet containing an informative essay by Julie Kirgo.

No film has ever presented such a realistic, disturbing, and uncompromising portrayal of oppression and survival than “Bandit Queen.”

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