Rock
Hudson is an American commando sent to blow up a dam in “Hornets’ Nest,†a 1970
WWII action adventure set in 1944 Italy as the Allies advance on the German
occupation force. Directed by Phil Karlson (“Hell to Eternity,†“Kid Galahad,â€
“The Silencers,†“The Wrecking Crew†and “Walking Tallâ€), the movie was an
American-Italian co-production filmed in Italy with a mostly all Italian cast
and crew.
The
movie opens as the residents of Reanoto are massacred by German soldiers after
they refuse to give up the location of Italian resistance fighters. Meanwhile,
American commandos parachute in on a mission to blow up a nearby dam, but all
are killed except for Capt. Turner (Hudson). A group of boys hiding in the
hills when the German’s murdered their families rescue Turner and hide him from
the Germans. Turner is running a fever from his wounds and the boys convince a
local doctor, Bianca (Sylva Koscina), to help Turner. Von Hecht (Sergio
Fantoni) is the officer in charge of a local contingent of German soldiers
searching for Turner.
Mark
Colleano is Aldo, the leader of the boys. He’s understandably angry and wants
revenge against the Germans who murdered his family and the families of all the
other children. The boys form a band of partisans seeking to convince Capt.
Turner to teach them to shoot so they can kill Germans. They have guns and
ammunition hidden in a cave in the hills where they’ve been hiding. Turner
convinces the boys to help him retrieve his radio in order to contact his
headquarters and then complete his mission of destroying the dam. It’s not
precisely clear why the dam needs to be destroyed because the American forces
link up with him within minutes after the dam is blown up.
Italian
actor Sergio Fantoni (with dyed blonde hair) is unconvincing and miscast as Von
Hecht, but he’s a familiar face to fans of a pair of classic WWII movies from the
era. He was Capt. Oriani in “Von Ryan’s Express†and Capt. Oppo in “What Did
You Do in the War, Daddy?†It’s odd seeing him as a German officer in “Hornets’
Nest†and it doesn’t really work. It’s also not quite clear if Koscina is
supposed to be playing a German doctor or an Italian doctor in service of the
Germans, but that’s quickly forgotten soon after she’s taken prisoner by the children
and joins Turner in blowing up the dam. Koscina was cast after Sophia Loren
passed on the movie.
Another
obvious criticism of the film is one I have for other movies and TV series from
the period. Hudson’s hair is too long and the sideburns and handlebar mustache,
while stylish in the 1970s, would not have been acceptable for military service
during WWII through to today. Koscina’s big hair, like Hudson’s hair, is
strictly from the late 60s and early 70s and the boys look like they were
plucked off the streets of Rome circa 1970 and wear the clothing they had
hanging in their closets at home.
The
movie moves at a brisk pace with plenty of action and Colleano is sympathetic
as Aldo. Hudson is good as Capt. Turner and this would be his final military
action role before settling into the successful TV series “McMillan & Wifeâ€
which ran from 1971-1977. Koscina is beautiful and gives an acceptable
performance as Bianca, but she has little to do other than react to the boy’s
vengeance driven behavior, a rape attempt, having her clothing ripped, nurture
the small children and look enticing. Apart from Hudson, Apart from Colleano
(American father and English mother) and Karlson, the rest of the cast and crew
are made up of Italians and Yugoslavians. Italian second unit director Franco
Cirino even received a co-director credit on Italian prints of the movie.
The
story, written by S.S. Schweitzer and Stanley Colbert, was based on an actual
incident during the American advance in Italy. The screenplay is standard fare
for the era and among the last of this type of war movie. Critics at the time
disliked the depiction of children killing, being killed and participating in
war. I remember seeing this movie as a kid and I loved every minute of it. As a
fan of WWII movies and TV series, I wanted to be one of those boys fighting the
Nazis.
The
Kino Lorber release is the first time on Blu-ray for “Hornets’ Nest†and
features the trailer for this and two other Kino military- themed releases as
the only supplements. The movie clocks in at 110 minutes, looks and sounds
great with an outstanding score by Ennio Morricone. Originally released in
theaters by United Artists in September of 1970, the movie became a must see
movie for me when it turned up on TV throughout the 70s.
No matter what you think of the porn films created in the old days, their producers had an instinct for capitalizing on the hottest trends in mainstream movies. Take for example "Sensual Encounters of Every Kind", which was released in 1978, a year after Steven Spielberg's blockbuster "Close Encounters of the Third Kind". The film was promoted with marketing materials that implied it would be a sci-fi spoof but, alas, that promising premise ended with the posters. In fact the movie only has only a dotted line link to a supernatural premise. The plot centers on an ancient necklace that has the power to make its owner sexually irresistible to those around him or her. The caveat is that it only works once and then it must be passed on to another unwitting owner. Good thing it only works once because the benefits of the necklace might well result from death by exhaustion if the sexual action were to be engaged in on a regular basis. The plot line, such as it is, consists of several humorous vignettes loosely linked by the aforementioned premise. First up is a young, wealthy and bored young beauty (Lesile Bovee) who is bemoaning her dormant love life. Fortunately, the benefits of the necklace kick in just as three hunky gardeners are working at her estate. When they start to show a communal interest in her, she resists their advances but since this is a male-oriented porn flick she quickly has a change of heart and ends up having the time of her life with all three simultaneously. The next story centers on genre legend Georgina Spelvin ("The Devil in Miss Jones") as a tutor for teenage brother and sister who are spoiled rotten and prove to be snarky and disrespectful. Adding to their bizarre sense of "family relations" is their sexual relationship with each other, which they demonstrate in front of their tutor who predictably can't resist participating. Another vignette is the broadest in terms of comedy with a U.S. senator carrying on with his sensuous secretary (Serena) when his wife returns home unexpectedly. The belabored premise might work well with Peter Sellers or David Niven as the protagonist, however, it's as flat as a pancake here- and just as erotic. The final chapter has porn veteran Jamie Gillis as the male coach of a female college athletic team who is seduced in a gym by two of his students. The film's premise of an anthology of stories connecting diverse characters around the same object could have worked. (Think "The Yellow Rolls Royce" with hardcore orgies thrown in.) However, the comedic aspects are undone by weak writing and generally poor performances with only Spelvin delivering something akin to a performance (she had Broadway training and appeared in "Funny Girl"!) On the plus side, the real raison d'etre for the film is the sex scenes and the director, Richard Kanter, at least has the instinct to generally cut the lame jokes during these scenes and manages to make them quite erotic.
Vinegar Syndrome has released the film on DVD and it boasts a pristine transfer that probably makes it look better than it did at the time of its original release. An interesting bonus is a rather garbled phone interview with porn actor Jon Martin, who appears uncredited in the film. His conversation is feature-length and he provides some interesting insights, not only about the porn industry of the era, but his own career as well. (He studied with Stella Adler and Uta Hagen, though it's doubtful those legendary acting teachers envisioned exactly how he would end up employing his talents.) In all, another winning package from Vinegar Syndrome.
Cinema Retro has received the following press release
regarding the film “Culloden†and “The War Gameâ€.
These startling and controversial films by Peter Watkins,
first broadcast on BBC TV, have been newly remastered to High Definition and
will be released on Blu-ray for the first time on 28 March 2016, presented
together in a Dual Format Edition (contains Blu-ray and DVD discs). An array of
special features includes a new interview by film editor Michael Bradsell, who
worked with Peter Watkins at the BBC, audio commentaries for both films and
short films about each one.
Hailed as a breakthrough when it was first broadcast in
1964, Culloden – which brilliantly reconstructs the famous battle of
1746 – stunned viewers by approaching its historical subject matter in the
style of contemporary TV news coverage.
Watkins’ The War Game, about a limited nuclear
attack on Kent, blended fact and fiction to create a disturbing vision of the
personal and public consequences of such an attack. Banned from TV screens for
twenty years, it was through its cinema release in 1966 – and its Academy Award
for Best Documentary Feature in 1967 – that it gained a loyal and vociferous
following.
Special features
Newly remastered and presented in both High Definition and
Standard Definition
Michael Bradsell Interview (2015, 21 mins): the
film editor talks about working with Peter Watkins at the BBC
John Cook audio commentary on Culloden (2002)
Culloden on Location (Donald Fairservice, 1964, 8
mins): colour footage of the cast and crew during the filming of Culloden,
with a 2002 commentary by John Cook
Patrick Murphy audio commentary on The War Game (2002)
The War Game: The Controversy (2002, 19 mins):
Patrick Murphy charts the production history, banning and eventual distribution
of The War Game
The War Game book: on-screen gallery of the complete
1967 book, published to accompany the film
Illustrated booklet with new essays by John Cook, David
Archibald and William Fowler, and full film credits
Twilight Time has released a Blu-ray edition of "The Hawaiians", which was released in England under the title Master of the Islands. The 1970 big budget movie was a critical and commercial failure in its day, but evaluating it after all these years leads the viewer to accentuate its many positive elements. The story is actually an official continuation of James Michener's Hawaii, which was made into a major film in 1966 that curiously also underwhelmed critics and public. This sequel doesn't have the epic proportions of its predecessor, but it does boast some impressively lush production values and a typically enticing score by Henry Mancini. For this film, Heston reunited with director Tom Gries, with whom he made the vastly under-appreciated 1968 Western "Will Penny"which Heston regarded as one of his most satisfying artistic accomplishments. He is cast against type here in a somewhat unsympathetic role during a period of his career in which he was typically cast as a stalwart heroic figure. Heston plays Whip Hoxworth, a hard-nosed sea captain who transports luckless Chinese immigrants to Hawaii where they become cheated, abused and enter into what amounts to indentured servitude. The opening sequence finds the Chinese crammed into the sweltering hold of the ship and falling victim to illness and malnutrition. Hoxworth only adds to their misery by applying beatings and coldly calculating his human cargo in terms of acceptable deaths, 'lest his ultimate profits fall short of expectations. Hoxworth is the black sheep of a wealthy family. He is cut out of his father's will and has a contentious relationship with his siblings, who have little use for him. Barred from further sea duties, he is relegated to a failing plantation which he is determined to turn into a success, if only to spite his relatives. Geraldine Chaplin is his half-Hawaiian wife, whom he adores but who, for reasons never satisfactorily explained in the script, turns frigid after their son is born.
The film tells a parallel story about the plight of two immigrants who work on his plantation: Nyuk Tsin (Tina Chen) and Mun Ki (Mako), two people who, through necessity, live as man and wife even though Mun Ki tells Nyuk Tsin that the children she has borne him will not be considered hers. Instead, Chinese tradition dictates that they will ultimately return to China where his wife will assume the mantle of mother and Nyuk Tsin will be relegated to the status of an aunt. The couple's hard work appeals to Hoxworth's generally dormant sympathies and he allows them to prosper financially, especially when they successfully grow the first pineapples on Hawaii - a development that makes Hoxworth rich. However, the film piles crisis upon crisis on each of the major characters, including political intrigue, armed revolution and, in particulalry affecting sequences, outbreaks of leprosy and plague. John Phillip Law appears late in the 134-minute film as Heston's grown son, whose humanitarianism brings him into direct conflict with his father's Machevellian ways.
The Hawiians is big-budget soap opera at every level, but it's a consistently engrossing one. Heston excels playing part that takes him into new territory as an actor. The supporting cast is equally good, with both Mako and Tina Chen giving outstanding performances. It can't be said that the film is an unqualified success, but it's never boring and it probably seems more impressive today than it did at the time of its initial release. It should be mentioned that the movie has a fine score by Henry Mancini. There are worse fates than spending a couple of hours with Heston under any circumstance.
The Twilight Time limited edition Blu-ray (3,000 units) is right up to the company's high standards. It includes a trailer and the usual informative liner notes by film historian Julie Kirgo.
In
the mid 1980’s, I caught ABC-TV’s premiere broadcast of Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining (1980) and it changed me
forever. I became a huge fan of both
Stanley Kubrick’s and Stephen King’s work, as well as classical music. Despite the protestations of many a film
reviewer regarding the casting of Jack Nicholson, I greatly admired his performance
in the film, and eagerly sought out all of his films that I could find on home
video and television at the time. Among
them was a film that I had not heard of before, the story about two Navy lifers
transporting a convict to the “brigâ€, a military prison, for having stolen
$40.00 out of the Polio contribution box (the Commanding Officer’s wife’s favorite charity – oops!!). Hal Ashby’s The Last Detail (1973), which opened in New York on Sunday,
February 10, 1974 (having premiered in L.A. in December of 1973) , contains my favorite film performance by Jack
Nicholson, which is saying a lot considering that his turn as R.P. McMurphy in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975)
is the role that most critics think of when they discuss his work. Here he plays Billy "Badass"
Buddusky, a U.S. petty officer who, along with Richard "Mule" Mulhall
(the late Otis Young), is tasked with escorting a sailor, Larry Meadows (Randy
Quaid), from their home base in Norfolk, VA to Portsmouth Naval Prison up in
Maine. On the surface, this looks like a
fairly routine affair as Buddusky and Mulhall go through the motions of taking
Meadows by train to his final destination. Initially by-the-book and aloof, they begin to feel sympathetic towards
the nebbish Meadows following a shoplifting episode. He’s obviously a kleptomaniac and, even
though he’s only 18, probably feels as though his life is over. Along the way, they start to think of the
things that Meadows will miss out on – his first sexual experience, having his
first beer, and getting into all sorts of fun trouble. Buddusky takes on the
role of the leader, and he sets out to show Meadows a good time. They break into laughter following Buddusky’s
outburst at a bartender (the language his uses in this scene could very well have
been a first for the time) and Meadows looks like a kid rang someone’s doorbell,
ran off and has gotten away with it. He’s obviously enjoying himself with his newfound “friendsâ€. They get beer on their own and get drunk,
then spend the night in a hotel room and laugh to their heart’s content.
As
time progresses, Buddusky and Mulhall cannot help but take a liking to Meadows,
and eventually start to feel sorry for him, feeling that he got a raw
deal. They take time to seek out his
mother during a stop in Philadelphia (they don’t find her), and then they watch
him attempt to ice skate in Rockefeller Center in New York and fight with
Marines at Penn Station (which looks completely different than it does today). In Boston, they take Meadows to a whorehouse
for his first sexual experience (Carol Kane plays the prostitute). Michael Chapman, the cinematographer who shot
the movie, plays the taxi driver who gives the boys a ride (Mr. Chapman would
go on to shoot Taxi Driver for Martin
Scorsese in the summer of 1975, and actually appears as a cab fare in that film). They also sit it on a session with Nichiren
Shoshu Buddhists and Meadows attempts to put into use the chant that he is
taught in order to obtain good fortune. The
late Luana Anders makes an appearance in this scene, as does the late Gilda
Radner; they both died of cancer in 1996 and 1989 respectively. Another party they end up at features a very
young Nancy Allen, who is told by Jack Nicholson in a very funny speech about
why he loves his uniform. Even director
Ashby shows up: he can be seen sitting at the bar in the dart-throwing sequence,
sporting glasses and his trademark white beard. By the end of the film, we know that inevitably they must follow their
orders, and it’s painful to see Meadows incur Buddusky’s wrath following a
failed attempt to escape. The ending is
poignant, but a far cry from the tremendous downer that ends the novel of the
same name by Daryl Ponicsan upon which the film is based. Thankfully, the film is a tad more
upbeat.
There are, at a minimum, three important lessons gleaned
from the outrageous 1970 sci-fi thriller The
Incredible Two-Headed Transplant. The first and most obvious lesson is that the adage “two heads are
better than one†is simply not necessarily true. The second is that mad scientists, the most
bitter and misunderstood members of the medical profession, tend to a more liberal interpretation of the
Hippocratic Oath they’re sworn to. The
last and perhaps most important lesson: if
you and your best gal find yourself necking in an automobile on a remote
lover’s lane, it might be best to spoon under a good-old fashioned hardtop. Convertibles
are too easily shredded by two-headed maniacs.
Let’s be frank. Anthony
M. Lanza’s The Incredible Two-Headed
Transplant is one weird movie. It’s
not without merit, but it’s surely a film that invites parody and guffaws over
a Coke and tub of hot popcorn. This, I
imagine, is the reason Kino Lorber has offered the choice of a genuine “RiffTraxâ€
audio commentary as an optional supplement. In the interest of full disclosure, I didn’t listen through the mocking
supplement in total. Truth be told, while
I enjoy a cheap laugh or a well chosen barb as much as anyone, I’ve never been
a big fan of the “Mystery Science Theater 3000†or “RiffTrax†phenomenon. It’s not that I don’t find such commentaries humorous
or even, on occasion, insightful… at least when enjoyed in the privacy of one’s
own home. But one can’t ignore that such
burlesque has inspired several generations of idiots to ruin public theatrical
screenings with lame attempts at imitation.
Though a genuine 1970s drive-in theater-exploitation-horror
movie in nearly every regard, The Incredible
Two-Headed Transplant differs from most as it offers not a single spooky
nighttime scene. This might be the only
horror film that I know of that takes place entirely in broad daylight. Co-screenwriter James Gordon White conceived
the film “as a tongue-in-cheek take off on Frankenstein,â€
but I suppose that can be said of practically any horror/sci-fi film featuring
a body on an operating gurney. In some
ways the film, reportedly shot on a budget of $350,000 and a money-spinner for
A.I.P. within six months of release, is an oddity even among that studio’s
deep-catalog of low-budget horrors. Writer White sees the film as a classic “Bâ€
production, while star-player Bruce Dern has infamously dismissed it as a “Zâ€
picture.
It must be said that nearly everything about the film is
schizophrenic, and this extends to the movie’s soundtrack. There’s an early dash of background
instrumentation that offers a Seventies ghetto-soul vibe. But this then contemporary musical element
seems somewhat out of place when juxtaposed against the film’s entirely tranquil
Californian countryside setting. Odder
still is the film’s main title song, “Incredible,†a pleasant but out-of-sync bossa nova vocal number sung by the
otherwise obscure singer Bobbie Boyle. Both interludes start the film off on a weird,
discordant note.
The film certainly wastes no time in getting one
involved. We’re instantly transported to
a suburban home where a ghastly act of violence is in progress. With several bloodied bodies littering the
floor, a crazy-eyed psychopath – one with an unfortunate propensity for sexual
violence - is in the process of lasciviously terrifying a young girl. Thankfully, she’s saved from a lurid fate at
the last minute when the police arrive and subdue the madman. Though a prudent judge commits the murderous
rapist, Manuel Cass, (played with wild, eye-rolling fervor by Albert Cole) to a
mental institution “until sanity is restored,†there’s little chance of that
happening anytime soon. It’s not long
after his confinement that Cass murders an attendant and drives off into the
countryside in a sporty 1961 Dodge Comet.
Not counting the paying audience, the true victims of The Incredible Two-Headed Transplant are
Pat Priest’s beleaguered Linda Girard and John Bloom’s Danny. As the not-so-good doctor’s luscious wife, any
on-screen appearance of Priest, the lovely and curvaceous former Marilyn
Munster, is welcomed. Sadly, without the
kindly Uncle Herman or Grandpa to watch over and afford her a measure of
familial protection, Priest’s lonely afternoon of poolside sun-bathing is interrupted
when she’s spied upon, kidnapped and near-sexually assaulted by the
psychopathic escapee. Her preoccupied
husband didn’t hear her screams as he was, as usual, puttering away with bad
intent in his hacienda-home laboratory. As awful as Cass manhandles Priest during the kidnapping, it must be
said that the treatment she receives from her own husband is barely
better. In the course of the film Dr. Girard
(all in the interest of scientific secrecy, of course) locks his wife in his
laboratory, gags her mouth, ties her to a bed, performs a needle injection
against her consent, feeds her tranquilizers, and imprisons her inside a large
steel cage… and this is not to mention the not inconsequential emotional abuse
she’s made to endure. But the doctor
promises his wife a nice vacation (“anywhere you wantâ€) after he finishes up
his experiments, so all is good.
Cinema Retro has received the following press release from Anchor Bay:
BEVERLY HILLS, CA – (March 22, 2016) – Award-winning
filmmaker Alejandro Amenábar’s (The Others, The Sea Inside) latest
psychological thriller Regression arrives May 10 on Blu-rayâ„¢ and
DVD from Anchor Bay Entertainment and Dimension Films, and Digital HD and On
Demand from Starz Digital. Regression features an ensemble cast led
by Academy Award® nominee Ethan Hawke (Boyhood, Training Day,
The Purge), and Emma Watson (Harry Potter, Perks of Being a
Wallflower). Hailed as a “carefully-crafted tale of collective psychosisâ€
by the Hollywood Reporter, Regression also stars David
Thewlis (Harry Potter,Anomalisa), Dale Dickey (“True Bloodâ€) and Devon Bostick
(“The 100â€, Diary of a Wimpy Kid).
Minnesota, 1990. Detective Bruce Kenner (Ethan Hawke)
investigates the case of young Angela (Emma Watson), who accuses her
father, John Gray (David Dencik), of an unspeakable crime. When John
unexpectedly and without recollection admits guilt, renowned psychologist
Dr. Raines (David Thewlis) is brought in to help him relive his
memories and what they discover unmasks a horrifying
nationwide mystery.
Regression will be available on Blu-ray and DVD from Anchor Bay
Entertainment for the suggested retail price of $26.99 and $22.98,
respectively.
If you were going to write a
script following the further adventures of two Shakespearean characters, it's a
safe bet Rosencrantz and Guildenstern wouldn't be the first names to spring to
mind. For those who don't know, they are two minor characters from Shakespeare's
Hamlet. They become the focus of Tom Stoppard's 1966 play Rosencrantz
And Guildenstern Are Dead, adapted for the big screen in 1990. The title is
taken directly from a line spoken in Hamlet.
It is a fairly shapeless,
existential film. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern (Gary Oldman and Tim Roth)
travel around the wilderness, partaking in nonsensical debates about fate,
chance, life and death. They seem unsure of where they are going or why, and often
muddle up their own names as if they are not entirely certain of their
identity.
They stumble across a
travelling acting troupe fronted by the Lead Player (Richard Dreyfuss). He
gives them cryptic hints about their place in the bigger picture, but much of
his meaning is lost on them. Occasionally, they find themselves flitting into
the events happening at the Danish castle of Elsinore, where young Prince
Hamlet (Iain Glen) is descending into madness following the death of his father
and the subsequent marriage of his mother (Joanna Miles) to his scheming uncle,
Claudius (Donald Sumpter). When involved in the fineries of Hamlet's story,
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern suddenly become different men - they become more
articulate and purposeful, and have a better understanding of their place in
the world. When the action moves away and they are left alone once more, they
slip back into nonsensical and often stupid character traits, as if they have
been stripped of their personality and understanding.
The film often focuses on
the off-stage aspects of Hamlet, wherein Rosencrantz and Guildenstern
are mostly confused by the small snippets of information they glean from their
position at the edge of the main action. They try hopelessly to piece together
what is happening in Hamlet's life (and the lives of other characters) during
their absence, but only come up with fanciful theories to explain situations
which lie beyond their grasp. The technique raises an important question for
the audience: what role do we play in other people's lives? Our friend's lives,
our family's lives, don't cease to exist just because we aren't present - yet
we don't know what is happening to them or what they are experiencing at any
given time unless we are there to bear witness. Ultimately, lives carry on
regardless and our understanding of any situation is dictated and shaped by
whatever snippets we see for ourselves.
It's a clever device which
enables us to relate to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. We see that, like them,
we are merely minor characters on a much larger stage - called 'Life'. The two
main characters are constantly mistaken for each other by those around them;
even between themselves they often forget which one is Rosencrantz and which is
Guildenstern. In some ways, Stoppard is mocking the way they are written in the
play, indicating they are so similar that they might as well have been rolled
into one, since there is not enough discernible difference between them.
One can imagine that
adapting the play for the big screen would present a daunting prospect for many
directors. It comes as little surprise, then, that Stoppard himself directed
the film version. As he pointed out in
an interview with the Los Angeles Times: "It began to become clear
that it might be a good idea if I did it myself—at least the director wouldn't
have to keep wondering what the author meant. It just seemed that I'd be the
only person who could treat the play with the necessary disrespect." He does a commendablejob here, and it seems surprising this was his one and only film directing assignment. With over 40 writing
credits to his name, it would have been interesting to see him adapting and directing
one of his other plays.
During the casting stages,
Stoppard approached Sean Connery to play the Lead Player. Once Connery's name was associated with the
production, Stoppard was able to secure funding for it.Unfortunately, around this time Connery was having problems with his
throat, leading him to visit a specialist who discovered abnormal
cells which had to be surgically removed. Connery pulled out of the feature to concentrate
on his health. Stoppard reacted angrily, informing the actor he had committed to the film and the producers would take the matter further. In
the end, Connery settled the matter out of court. It's not difficult to visualise Connery in the role: he would have had fun with the character and his voice would have
suited the prose beautifully, but alasit was not to be. Richard Dreyfuss makes a
perfectly worthy replacement, full of energy and mischievous humour in the
flamboyant role.
Through a distribution deal with the Warner Archive, many Paramount titles are being reissued on DVD. Among them: "Hustle", a 1975 crime flick starring Burt Reynolds and Catherine Deneuve. The film is definitely of an era when cop and gangster movies largely defined the medium. Directed by Robert Aldrich, "Hustle" doesn't rate high on the achievement scale of any of the participants but that isn't to say it doesn't have redeeming values that make it worth a look. The film opens on a sobering note with a group of grammar school kids rejoicing in a field trip to the beach- only to immediately discover a body in the surf. Turns out she is Gloria Hollinger, a wayward teen who had been living a troubled life. L.A. police Lt. Phil Gaines (Burt Reynolds) and his partner Sgt. Louis Belgrave (Paul Winfield) are assigned to investigate the death. The coroner quickly dismisses the death as a suicide. Gaines and Belgrave accept that verdict but they are then confronted by Gloria's grieving parents, Marty and Paula Hollinger (Ben Johnson and Eileen Brennan). Marty is an emotionally unstable man who has never recovered from traumas suffered in the Korean War. He has a short fuse and an explosive temper. His wife tells Gaines and Belgrave that although their daughter's promiscuous ways caused them anxiety, Marty was extremely close to her. He becomes obsessed with finding the person or people he believes murdered his daughter. He locks horns with the cops and accuses them of being complicit in a cover-up. Meanwhile, Belgrave starts to have second thoughts about the suicide theory. Initially, his pleas to re-open the case are rejected by Gaines and their boss, Captain Santoro (Ernest Borgnine) but eventually he relents and begins to investigate further. The trail leads to Leo Sellers (Eddie Albert), a sophisticated business tycoon with a penchant for wining and dining prostitutes- including Gaines's own girlfriend, Nicole Britton (Catherine Deneuve), who is a high priced call girl. Gaines learns that Sellers did indeed have contact with Gloria and that he arranged for her to star in porn films for his own pleasure. He denies having anything to do with her death, however. Marty Hollinger isn't buying the denial and sets out to avenge his daughter- an act that leads to a dramatic confrontation with Sellers.
"Hustle" strives to be more complex and intelligent than many of the low-end cop films from this era. To a degree it succeeds. The script by Steve Shagan does accentuate relationships and character development over major action sequences. However, the script is also problematic because the story line never really engages the viewer on an emotional level. The victim of the alleged crime is already dead when we first see her so there is little emotional resonance toward her character. Much of the screen time is taken up with the ups and downs of Gaines's relationship with Nicole. Theirs is more than a love affair of convenience. He is clearly smitten by her but harbors resentment over her lifestyle as a hooker. Nicole, for her part, is quite comfortable with her line of work. She will only give it up if Gaines marries her, something he is reluctant to do, having already been in a failed marriage. Reynolds and Deneuve defined charisma and glamour on screen in the 1970s. Not surprisingly, director Aldrich has plenty of bedroom scenes with his attractive leads but they are strangely bland and anything but erotic. Writer Shagan attempts to delve deeply into Gaines's psyche. He's sarcastic and cynical toward his job and superiors (in the tradition of all '70s cinematic cops) and he seems cold and unemotional. He also harbors fantasies about returning to Rome, where he once visited in relation to an investigation. He even keeps a calendar from 1968 on his wall to remind him of his goal to return to Italy. There are also references (not very well explained) of his obsession with "Moby Dick". The latter two personality quirks are supposed to be endearing but come across as rather pretentious in the scheme of the story. As for Deneuve, she is largely used for window dressing. We see her sauntering around the apartment and occasionally profiting from engaging in an obscene phone call with a client. In reality, her character could easily have been removed from the script without any major detriment to the overall story line.
The film meanders through some rather innocuous sequences before leading to the climax, which is quite intriguing and much better than most of what proceeded it. Reynolds and Deneuve are in fine form but the best performances come from Eileen Brennan and Ben Johnson as the distraught parents. Johnson, in particular, is a frightening force of nature and gives a riveting performance. Ernest Borgnine is largely wasted in a couple of short sequences that are rather weakly written. Paul Winfield gives the film an additional emotional core as the antithesis of Gaines in that he is a man of compassion and honor. Eddie Albert, always an asset to any film, is spot-on as usual, but also under-utilized. Other familiar faces in supporting roles include Catherine Bach and Jack Carter. The film, photographed by Joseph Biroc, has a grainy look that is compatible with many action movies of this period and composer Frank De Vol's score ranges from disco-like themes to schmaltzy romantic mood music.
The Warner Archive release contains no extra features.
Tough
as nails CIA agent Nick Pirandello (James Belushi) recruits milquetoast insurance
agent and suburban family man Bob Wilson (John Ritter) to save the world in
“Real Men,†a 1987 equal parts action comedy, spy movie, road movie and buddy
movie now available on Blu-ray from Kino Lorber. Buddy movies dominated the
action genre throughout the 70s and 80s in theaters and, on TV and just about
every male star appeared in at least one. The “Lethal Weapon†movies starring
Mel Gibson and Danny Glover typified the genre with the apparent mismatch of personalities
who eventually work together to bring the plot to a satisfying resolution.
Belushi
is no stranger to the buddy movie, having starred in a few throughout the 80s
including “Red Heat†with Arnold Schwarzenegger. While the two leads play it mostly
straight, the movie does provide laughs, action and also veers into science
fiction as it builds on one odd scene after another. Just as things start to move
in one direction, the movie takes a new turn into weirdness which is a big part
of the fun. It’s basically a series of non-sequiturs sequenced to bring about a
satisfying conclusion. Somehow it all works.
Bob
happens to look exactly like a recently killed CIA agent and Nick is sent to escort
him from Los Angeles to Washington D.C. in five days to complete the dead spy’s
mission by Friday. Nick calmly explains their mission as he assembles a nail-firing
machine gun from parts found in Bob’s garage in order to fend the group of
unknown agents trying to kill them. Nick reveals their mission which is to meet
up with extra-terrestrial visitors (Nick calls them Ufoes) seeking a glass of
water in exchange for the “good package†or the “big gunâ€. The bad guys want
the big gun but the good package will save the earth from the effects of a recent
toxic waste accident which will result in the end of mankind. Bob proves hard
to convince and attempts escape at every opportunity, but Nick pulls out every
trick in the book to convince Bob that their mission is important to America
and the world, as they’re confronted by several groups of agents including
Russian KGB, rogue CIA agents and clown assassins.
After
escaping and driving through the night, they make a pit stop in Las Vegas. Nick
tries to prove the truth of his mission by showing a still doubting Bob a pen
inscribed by the Ufoes with, “To Nick from his Friends Far Away.†Still
unconvinced, Nick hammers the pen through a baseball after which it levitates,
sprouts antennae, spins and flies away. Russian agents show up and, after Nick
fails at negotiating a truce with a sultry female Russian agent, the shooting
begins again. Just as things start looking grim, the Russians stop shooting for
their lunch break. The duo calmly walks away from the halted firefight and end
up at Nick’s parents’ home where Bob meets Nick’s mom (a cameo by Barbara
Barrie) and dad. Nick explains that dad has gone through some big changes in
his life and is very happy now as a woman. Dad is played by Dyanne Thorne, best
known to fans of 70s exploitation cinema as the star of the Ilsa exploitation series,
in a funny sequence that ends with Thorne reminding Bob to call.
By
Thursday they’re in Indianapolis where they pick up a special glass to hold the
water for the Ufoes. They also engage the CIA killer clown unit. Nick is a
crack shot and seemingly has eyes in the back of his head. After falling in
love with a dominatrix he meets in Pittsburg, Nick briefly loses interest in
the mission, but by then Bob has gained the confidence Nick has lost and completes
the mission.
John
Ritter was good at playing the type of character portrayed in the past by Bob
Hope, Danny Kaye and Don Knotts; the cowardly loser who comes through in the
end and gets the girl. In this case he earns the respect of his wife and kids
when he goes after the neighborhood bullies who stole his son’s bike. Jim
Belushi is also very effective as the relative straight man. He’s tough,
confident and plays it cool throughout, but also come across as a bit of the
slippery con man ala Bud Abbott and Dean Martin. Belushi and Ritter have good
chemistry and it’s a pity they didn’t do another film together.
Released
by United Artists in 1987, this is the sole directing credit for Dennis Feldman
who also wrote the film’s screenplay. Known as a writer and producer, his
previous credits include “Just One of the Guys,†“The Golden Child,†“Speciesâ€
and “Virus.†In some ways the movie is a precursor to “Men in Black†where
government agents also have secret knowledge of extraterrestrials and compete
in an effort to garner favors from their advanced technology. The movie
underperformed at the box office, but did find life on cable TV and home video
release. Miles Goodman provides an entertaining score which does a fine job
underscoring the strange elements of the film.
The
Kino Lorber Blu-ray looks and sounds great. The only extra is the trailer, but
it’s worth a look because it’s simply a series of scenes between Nick and Bob
explaining what makes a man a “real man.†The movie is definitely an acquired
taste, but Belushi and Ritter are very good very likable as a team. The movie
isn’t for everyone, but it’s unique, entertaining and worth a look.
“A Bullet for Joey†(1955) with Edward G. Robinson,
George Raft and Audrey Totter is one of those “Red scare†movies from the
mid-fifties that combines elements of a crime plot with espionage and the evils
of communism. It was the Cold War era and people were digging bomb shelters and
practicing “duck and cover†air raid drills, while at the same time, congressional
committees hauled in suspected Communist Party members, including actors,
writers and directors, to testify and name names. Hollywood did its part, in
turn, by black listing suspected commies and turning out anti-communism films
like John Wayne’s “Big Jim McClain†“The Woman on Pier 13 (“I Married a
Communistâ€), and “I Was a Communist for the FBI.†“A Bullet for Joeyâ€, despite
having two of Hollywood’s toughest tough guy actors in the cast, is one of the
weaker examples of this sub-genre.
It concerns a conspiracy by Communist agents who want to
kidnap a nuclear scientist named Macklin who is living in Montreal and has
developed some kind of secret atomic weapon. The Reds want to take him and his
device to Moscow. It’s not a bad story idea on the face of it. But who do you
suppose they enlist to carry out such a risky venture? Some skilled KGB agent? Some
steely-eyed Russian veteran of the Cold War? No. They get the crack-brain idea
to go to Portugal and contact Joey Victor, a deported American gangster played by
a tired-looking George Raft. They give him money, fake ID papers and send him
to Canada to snatch the scientist. Sure, I guess if you want to pull off a
super-secret international kidnapping, why not hire a nondescript guy like
Public Enemy No. 1? Makes sense to me. Even harder to swallow is the idea that
Joey would take the job not really knowing who the people are that are hiring
him, or why they would want to capture a nuclear scientist in the first place.
All he cares about is the money and a chance to slip over the Canadian border
and get back in the U.S. This is called putting blinders on your main character
so he can stumble through an overly contrived plot.
At this point you might be wondering what Edward G.
Robinson is doing all this time. Well, Edward G plays a Canadian Mountie Inspector
by the name of Le Duc who starts investigating a string of seemingly
unconnected murders that have suddenly sprung up in Montreal. Looking every bit as tired and worn out as
Raft, Edward G. goes through the usual police procedural motions as if in his
sleep. There are clues such as an organ grinder found in the river with his
face removed, a homely girl shot three times on a lover’s lane, a guy shot
through a window by a rifle with a telescopic sight. As he sifts through the
evidence, Le Duc discovers they all have one thing in common—they’re all
connected in some way to a nuclear scientist named Macklin.
Meanwhile, Joey gets help from the Soviet agents
reassembling his old mob including his former flame Audrey Totter. She’s
brought in to seduce the atomic scientist, and set him up for the kidnapping.
Joey advises her not to get involved with him, but she does anyway and tries to
get a note off to Edward G. spilling the beans. Totter, an actress whose
presence graced many a decent film noir, isn’t used very well in this flick.
Mostly she stands around looking like a big cat about to claw everybody’s eyes
out. She does have one of the best lines in the movie, however, when Joey
barges into her room as she’s writing the letter as she tries to hide it and
asks:
“Are your knuckles sore?â€
“No why?â€, Joey answers.
“Go back out and bang them on the door.â€
That gives you some idea of the kind of script the
writers came up for this one. Maybe you can’t blame Edward G for looking tired
and bored when he’s forced to utter lines like: “Women are what makes life a
pleasure for men.â€
I won’t bore you with further details of the plot, mainly
because I can’t remember anymore, even though I watched this film twice. I
don’t know if it was Lewis Gilbert’s lackluster direction, the cockamamie
script by blacklisted writer Daniel Mainwaring and A. I. Bezzerides (from the
novel by James Benson Nablo), or the tired and listless performances of the two
leads that was responsible for the eye-glazing experience watching “A Bullet
for Joey†turned out to be. All I can remember is squirming in my seat, feeling
itchy, getting up to get a drink, getting up again to use the rest room, and
finally just throwing up my hands in frustration during a scene where the cops
and gangsters are shooting it out on a boat, and all Edward G can do is try to
get through to headquarters on a radio that doesn’t work. There are guns a-blazing,
bad guys running all over the place, and in the middle of it, Edgar G is
sitting in a truck with the microphone in his hand, repeating: “Headquarters,
come in. This is inspector LeDuc calling. Headquarters, come in.†In this scene
Le Duc comes off almost as comically inept as Inspector Clouseau in one of
Blake Edwards Pink Panther movies.
There was, of course, the final moment, after Edgar G is
captured when he asks Joey why he took a job without knowing what it was all
about? Finally a light bulb goes off
over the gangster’s head when he realizes turning the scientist over to the
commies is a crime against humanity. Joey rises to the occasion and tries to
redeem himself. The title pretty much tells you how that turns out.
This was the second time Robinson and Raft worked
together. The first was in “Manpower†(1941) with Marlene Dietrich. The two
guys got in a fight over Dietrich at the time. Maybe that’s what this film
needed. Some behind the scenes shenanigans to put some life into what is otherwise
a pretty dull and lifeless movie. Too bad two old legends couldn’t have found a
better vehicle for their last appearance together.
This Kino Lorber
Blu-Ray is presented in the correct 1.85:1 aspect ratio and the picture and
sound are okay, even though no effort was made at digital restoration. There
are signs of wear and tear. The disc has no extras other than a couple of
trailers. I’ve given high marks to most of Kino Lorber’s Studio Classic series.
I appreciate their desire to keep older, and more obscure films in circulation.
But this is one is marginal at best.
In the course of a 1977 interview with Hollywood
correspondent Vernon Scott, American-International’s very own Samuel J. Arkoff,
the studio’s notorious penny-pinching producer, admitted to his mostly fiscal interest
in the horror film genre. “We got into
horror pictures [in 1955] when we discovered that without a big budget and
major stars our films were [relegated to] second features,†Arkoff reminisced. “I decided to make two pictures of the same
type and release them on the same bill… So we sent out The Phantom from 10,000 Leagues and The Day the World Ended as a pair and they cleaned up.â€
Years later Arkoff would more completely
delineate his eminently prudent and successful marketing strategy to film
historian Tom Weaver. This insightful interview
with the irascible producer was included in Weaver’s seminal tome Return of the B Science Fiction and Horror
Heroes: the Mutant Melding of Two Volumes of Classic Interviews (McFarland,
1999). In essence, Arkoff revealed that,
as an independent, the box office receipts from the earliest films released
through the American Releasing Corporation (the original name of the company
that would morph into American-International Pictures), had been relatively
small.
As nationwide theater chains were still mostly
controlled by the major studios when Arkoff first opened shop, his A.R.C.
features were only booked by cinema-owners as flat-fee rentals of nominal cost.
The films were also, more fatefully, consigned to the lower-half of a double
bill program; this was unfair as such second-bill status did not allow independents
to take a percentage of the total gross of a twin-bill. In the years following
a 1948 court-ordered anti-trust injunction against the major studios, Arkoff
began to deliver his own twin packaged films to theater owners. Such independent double-bills ensured that all
profit percentages would rightfully funnel into the pockets of the producers.
It almost goes without saying that The Phantom from 10,000 Leagues was a
purely exploitative title; an obvious attempt to capitalize on the name-recognition
coattails of several successful science-fiction films of the era. The chosen title instantly invoked allusions
to Universal-International’s Creature
from the Black Lagoon (1954), Ray Harryhausen’s visual effects vehicle The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (1953),
and Disney’s Academy Award winning 20,000
Leagues Under the Sea (1954). The
latter two films would, at the very least, get their measurements right… but
more on this later.
If there was any film that I never imagined
would enjoy a Blu-Ray release, it’s the non-acclaimed and universally scorned The Phantom from 10,000 Leagues. Having done so, one has to respect
Kino-Lorber’s self-aware decision to include Joe Dante’s (Piranha, The Howling, Gremlins) disparaging remarks concerning the
film’s dubious merit. There’s no
over-the-top self-serving ballyhoo present here, folks. Dante concludes his brief “Trailers from
Hell†supplement with these cautionary words: “I hardly know anybody who’s made
it all the way through The Phantom from
10,000 Leagues.†If nothing else, Dante’s
from-the-heart appraisal of the film’s dubious virtues proves he’s no
revisionist. He’s also not alone in his opinion;
amongst devotees of 1950s sci-fi, The
Phantom from 10,000 Leagues has a long established reputation as a talky,
turgidly paced snooze-fest disguised as a monster movie.
Nonetheless, there’s a fascinating back story
to all this. In 1962 Dante, then merely
one more disgruntled sixteen-year old horror movie fan, would fire off a letter
off to Forrest J. Ackerman, editor-emeritus of the influential 1960s/1970s
magazine Famous Monsters of Filmland. In the course of his entertaining rant to the
editor, Dante suggested fifty films that, in his opinion, accounted for the
“worst horror films ever made.†The amused
Ackerman must have agreed with many of the youngster’s findings. He would later infamously assign Dante’s
“feeble fifty†to “the eternal fames of the brimstone pit†of horror-movie
history. The Phantom from 10,000 Leagues registered as “vapid†entry no. 38 on
Dante’s list, though it must be said this calculation was alphabetical rather
than meritorious in placement. To the
young letter-writers’ surprise, Ackerman chose to run his musings in the
magazine under the title “Dante’s Inferno,†an opinionated ten-page diatribe
that would cause no shortage of consternation amongst fans and the filmmakers
whose favorite films and/or contributions to celluloid history had been
outright panned.
Arrow’s
commitment to Pam Grier and her Blaxploitation films of the seventies continues
with their latest package Sheba, Baby (1975). By the arrival of the mid-Seventies
Grier was at the top of her game, coming off such genre classics as Coffy
(1973) and Foxy Brown (1974) both directed by Jack Hill and both of which are
also available in superb releases from Arrow. Grier’s work for AIP continued in
explosive, fashionable style with Sheba, Baby and with new director William
Girdler at the helm. Sheba is without doubt a star vehicle that was tailor made
for exploiting Grier’s talents.
Sheba
Shayne is a Chicago private eye who receives a telegram informing her of
trouble in her hometown of Louisville. The local mob boss, Pilot (D'Urville
Martin) has started to turn up the heat in trying to obtain her father’s loan
business. Along with her father Andy (Rudy Challenger), the business is run by
his partner Brick Williams (Austin Stoker), an instantly recognisable actor and
best known perhaps as Lt. Ethan Bishop from John Carpenter's cult classic
Assault on Precinct 13 (1976). After several threats and a near fatal car bomb,
Sheba soon realises that the situation is becoming desperately out of control.
Despite
a few shaky moments in the script (credited to director Girdler and producer David
Sheldon), the film is carried in every respect by Grier’s scintillating screen
presence, she truly bosses the film, and looks fantastic in every frame. It’s a
film that should be enjoyed without too much scrutinising; accept it purely on
its surface level and you’ll find yourself smiling a whole lot and lapping up
the action. If your intention is to analyse it, then forget it. If you
scrutinise the problems in terms of continuity of dates, Sheba’s small quantity
of luggage (there’s a costume change in practically every scene), etc, then
you’ll be missing out on the action and overlooking its pure entertainment
value. The action scenes are plentiful and arrive fast and furious. Was this
film actually rated as PG upon its release? Look out for the car that spins
wildly off a grass verge, then look again to see how it misses Grier (on the
assumption it was her and not a stunt double) by a matter of inches. It is a pure
adrenalin pumping sequence. Yes, the film might be considered as routine and
stereotypical, even offensive in relation to its language (the ‘N’ word raises
its ugly head on several occasions), and the mob are of course pimped to the
max. But you’d be wise to let it go, as this is, after all, a product of its
time, and yes, it was almost considered as socially tolerated in the more discriminate
social culture of the seventies.
Arrow’s
1080p presentation of Sheba, Baby can only be described as flawless. The
picture quality is as near to pristine as you could ever wish. Whist it retains
a generic low budget look, its colour grading delivers both a natural look and
just enough enhancement to emphasise those wonderful vivid colours of the
fashions and the times. The whole look manages to achieve a perfect balance.
Check out the film’s opening credits, the pin sharp yellow lettering almost
pops out from the screen. If they look familiar, you might just make the
comparison with Jackie Brown (1997), as director Quentin Tarantino uses the
exact same colour and font for his own Pam Grier movie. It’s not only homage,
but a deeper example of how Tarantino holds these movies so close to his heart.
The Blu-ray audio (original mono uncompressed PCM) is clean and clear
throughout, and allows the film’s soulful score (by Alex Brown and Monk Higgins)
to become an integral part of the experience. There are also a couple of great
vocals tracks (including the theme) provided by the American R&B/soul
singer Barbara Mason.
Arrow’s
bonus material is both enjoyable and generous. First, there are two audio
commentaries, the first featuring producer-screenwriter David Sheldon and moderated
by critic Nathaniel Thompson. The second is provided by Patty Breen the
webmaster of WilliamGirdler.com. Breen’s commentary is actually a great deal of
fun; it’s a completely relaxed ‘fan’ style narration. Whilst Breen can’t help joking
about the film’s flaws and inconsistencies, it is never in malice and it’s
clear she absolutely adores every aspect of the movie.
Sheldon:
Baby (15mins) is a brand new interview with David Sheldon who discusses his
role and his experience working on the movie and alongside director William
Girdler. Pam Grier: The AIP Years (12mins) does exactly what it says on the tin
and takes a look over the wonder years of the Blaxploitation queen with film
historian Chris Poggiali. The original theatrical trailer (2mins) and a
selection of publicity shots and lobby cards rounds off a very nice collection
of bonus material.
Arrow’s
packaging consists of a reversible sleeve featuring original and newly
commissioned artwork by Sean Phillips, while the booklet features brand new
writing on the film by Patty Breen and is illustrated with both archive stills
and posters.
Overall,
Sheba, Baby is an excellent package and one that leaves us in hope that Arrow will
continue to explore Grier’s later American international Pictures such as Bucktown
(1975) and Friday Foster (1975). There’s little doubt that they would certainly
be welcomed and appreciated with open arms.
Technical Spec: Region: Region A/B Blu-ray / DVD 1/2, Rating:
15, Cat No: FCD1210, Duration: 90 mins, Language: English, Subtitles: English
SDH, Aspect Ratio: 1.85:1, Audio: Mono, Discs: 2, Colour
‘Five Dolls for an August Moon’ is Mario Bava’s 1970 psychedelic spin on Agatha’s ‘Ten Little Indians’/’And Then There Were None’
with the addition of 70s fashions, a funky soundtrack, a walk-in meat fridge
and a revolving bed. This movie is all about ‘The Look’ and has all the Bava signatures
present – the overuse of zooming camera techniques, the appearance of the beach
and headland at Tor Caldara on Anzio Cape in Italy as the main filming location,
the effective, budget-defying special effects shots and the consummate
cinematography. Though often written off as lower-tier Bava, Arrow’s brand new region 2 Blu-ray/DVD edition, with vibrant colours and sound, shows Bava’s finesse and ensures
its success.
Kino Lorber has released a dual 3-D and 2-D Blu-ray of the 1954
cult sci-fi flick “Gogâ€.
At a secret US government base in the desert, various top secret
experiments are taking place that will provide invaluable data when the nation launches
its first manned rockets (keep in mind this is still a good six years or so
before the first Mercury flight). The experiments start to go awry so top
analyst Richard Egan is called in to investigate. Naturally, his
girlfriend Constance Dowling (producer Ivan Tors’s wife) is a top research
scientist there as well. As the investigation develops and the body count
increases, it appears that a pair of robots, GOG and MAGOG, are the cause of
the ‘accidents’…. or are they? Is someone or something else at the root
cause?
The 3-D and overall quality on this release is extremely good
(Richard Egan’s overindulgence in Brylcream is rather obvious in some shots
here). The action takes place in different fields in the frame and is
handled rather effectively. It is not a gimmicky 3-D film in any sense
and has been well thought out. When viewed on a Panasonic AG 8000 projector
there was very little or no ghosting. This project was produced by the
3-D Archive (Bob Furmanek, Greg Kintz and Thad Komorowski), the same folks who
brought us ‘3-D Rarities’ and ‘The Bubble’ last year.
“Gog†was released in May 1954 when the public's brief infatuation
of 1950’s 3-D was on the decline. As such, it was rolled out in 3-D in
only 5 bookings in southern California. It then played flat, or 2D, as
the release fanned out across the country. When “Gog†ended up in a TV
sale, for some reason it was then distributed in full frame B&W. Also
over time the negative for the left side was lost, actually most likely
destroyed, as the studios liked to keep their shelves clear to reduce storage
expenses (“Gee, why do we have two negatives of the same film? We can
throw one out!â€).
So “Gog†became a ‘lost’ 3-D film. Fortunately, a left side
original release print was stumbled upon at a film exchange in a pile of materials
that was to be thrown out. The print worked its way to the 3- D Archive,
where it was found to be very faded. Fast forward to present day and the
digital technologies available to archivists. Greg and Thad, spent close
to five months working diligently to restore color, perfect registration of the
3-D image, clean up damage and dirt, all the while maintaining a ‘filmic’ look
to the presentation (films scrubbed too clean for Blu-ray have a very unnatural
look).
Sixty three years later now, you can finally see GOG in 3-D,
better than the way it was meant to be seen.
The Kino Lorber release contains : both a 3-D and 2-D
version of the film; trailers; interviews with both the director, Herbert L.
Strock and director of photography, Lothrop B. Worth; featurette on the
restoration as well as an audio commentary by film historians Bob Furmanek, Tom
Weaver and David Schecter.
Randolph
Scott plays a bounty hunter returning a former Indian captive in “Comanche
Station,†a 1960 Columbia release directed by Bud Boetticher and written by
western regular Burt Kennedy.
Jefferson Cody (Scott) trades rifles and
other items with a group of Comanche Indians in exchange for a captive settler,
Nancy Lowe (Nancy Gates). Her husband has offered a large reward for her
return. After the exchange they’re met by outlaw Ben Lane (Claude Akins) and his
sidekicks Frank (Skip Homeier) and Dobie (Richard Rust) who help Cody during an
Indian attack at Comanche Station. Lane and Cody are old enemies and he and his
men have been searching for Nancy. Lane wants a piece of the $5,000 reward in
return for helping protect Nancy on the journey to her husband. Cody
reluctantly agrees and forms an uneasy alliance due to the Indian threat.
Cody befriends Dobie, who wants to be his own
man rather than the sidekick to the outlaw Lane.. Cody and Nancy form a friendship
which Lane sees as an opportunity to get under Cody’s skin. He plots to return
Nancy on his own and collect the reward, but he knows Cody is a better shot and
the better man.
The Indians are threatening and portrayed by
Native Americans rather than red-faced Caucasian extras. They’re talked about
more than seen and when they are seen they’re mostly on horseback and only a
modest threat to Cody and Lane. Lane is the real threat and Cody predicts the
outcome as Lane’s men are killed and the movie ends with the thrilling, if
predictable, gunfight between Cody and Lane on the edge of a rocky cliff.
The movie is a little gem overall with excellent
location photography beautifully shot in CinemaScope by Charles Lawton, Jr.
There’s also tight direction by Boetticher and strong performances by Scott,
Akins and the rest of the cast. The movie was apparently shot in 12 days in the
California desert, but the very short running time of 70 minutes doesn’t hurt, as
it ensures that things move at a brisk pace.
This
was the final film for Ranown, the production company formed by Scott and
producer Harry Joe Brown. Scott announced his retirement from movies after this
release. Fortunately, Scott returned for one more movie, “Ride the High
Country,†in 1962. Generally regarded as a classic of the genre, Scott retired
for good after that.
This
region 2 German release includes both German and the original English audio. The
CinemaScope picture and sound quality on this release are both terrific. While
the movie has a running time barely over an hour, there’s a lot packed into the
70 minute running time which is also an excuse to watch it as part of a double feature.
The movie was previously available as part of the 2008 DVD set, “The Bud
Boetticher Collection.†The only extra carried over from that release is the
original trailer in English. This German release also includes a slide show
stills gallery of original advertising material which is accompanied by cues
from the score. Well worth the time for fans of classic westerns, Bud Boetticher
and Randolph Scott.
(Explosive
Media titles are primarily available through Amazon Germany. However, imports
can often be found on eBay and Amazon in other countries. Although officially a
“region 2†title, many of readers report that Explosive Media titles play fine
on their region 1 players.)
Peter
Hyams’ “Busting†(1973) was one of several early 1970s police dramas that
followed the lead of “Dirty Harry,†two years before, in glorifying vigilante
tactics by disgruntled cops. Los Angeles
Detective Michael Keneely (Elliott Gould) tries to entrap a hooker, Jackie
(Cornelia Sharpe), by posing as a prospective john. He and his partner Patrick Farrell (Robert
Blake) trash her apartment without a warrant, looking for her “trick book†of
clients, and arrest her. The
incriminating pages disappear from the journal after it’s processed into an
evidence locker, and a high-powered defense attorney (William Sylvester) has
Jackie’s arrest thrown out of court on grounds that Keneely lacked evidence of
a crime: she had not explicitly propositioned him before he made the
pinch. The detectives learn that
Jackie’s boss is Carl Rizzo (Allen Garfield), a powerful drug and prostitution
kingpin, and they go after one of Rizzo’s heroin runners, Hyatt (Jack Knight)
with equal lack of success, igniting a bloody gunfight in a crowded public
market. Rizzo brags to Keneely that he
is so well connected politically that Keneely and Farrell will never be able to
touch him.
The
two cops are banished to an assignment nabbing “perverts†in the men’s room at the La Brea Tar Pits
Park. Marvel Comics fans take note,
Keneely has an “Ant-Man†comic book at hand to pass the time as he watches from
a stall. I doubt it was paid product
placement. Frustrated, they target Rizzo
on their off-hours with a campaign of harassment, hoping to eventually make a
case while getting under the gangster’s skin. Rizzo is so predatory and arrogant that the viewer, presumably, has no
qualms about Keneely and Farrell nailing him by any means necessary. This was the same Nixon-Era, middle-class
paranoia that “Dirty Harry†manipulated even more cunningly: the fear that
criminals were literally getting away with murder (not to mention rape,
robbery, and varied affronts to public decency) because recent court decisions
had tied the hands of the police.
In
an audio commentary with Elliott Gould for Kino-Lorber’s new Blu-ray release
of “Busting,†film critic Kim Morgan
calls the movie a “wonderful . . . under-looked should-be-‘70s-classic.†“Classic†is debatable; “curiosity pieceâ€
might be a better description for younger audiences who are likely to find the
period ambience of cynicism, grimy squad rooms, seedy peep shows, and strip
bars novel. Be warned, the dialogue is
heavy with offensive terms like “faggot†and “fruit†that may reflect the
homophobic slang of the time but are no longer tolerated at all.
Although
the movie runs a trim 92 minutes, it seems longer: Hyams’ script tends to
wander from scene to scene, never really picking up much momentum except during
the well-filmed chase and shootout at L.A.’s Grand Central Market, and even
that sequence drags at the end. None of
the characters is sharply developed, only Keneely having much in the way of a
background, and that limited to a monolog about how he started out as an
idealistic young cop. Two iconic ‘70s
cult actors are cast in small supporting parts -- Sid Haig as Rizzo’s bodyguard
and Antonio Fargas as an aggressive customer in a gay bar where Keneely and
Farrell are assigned to a drug stakeout -- but neither is given much to
do.
In
his comments on the audio track with Kim Morgan, Gould recalls that Ron Leibman
was originally set to play his partner, but when Leibman didn’t work out
(Gould’s comments on this point are vague), Peter Boyle and Blake were up for
the part. Gould says, “I love both
actors,†but he championed Blake because the actor was “dangerous and
unpredictable.†Ironically, Gould’s
character is the more volatile of the two detectives. The movie might have worked better if the two
leads had been cast to type, Blake as Keneely and Gould as Farrell. Gould’s commentary is droll and
informative. “Oh my God, I don’t remember
this,†he says as Cornelia Sharpe takes off her top in the scene between
Keneely and Jackie in her apartment.
The
1920x1080p image in the Kino-Lorber Blu-ray is about as serviceable as one
could expect from a 40-year-old, mid-budget movie. Other extras besides the commentary tracks
are trailers for “Busting†and two other releases, “The Long Goodbye†and
“Running Scared†(the 1986 Peter Hyams cop-buddy movie with Gregory Hines and
Billy Crystal, not the 2006 film of the same name with the late Paul Walker).
Back in the pre-internet era there was an old adage that went "Never pick a fight with somebody who buys ink by the barrel." In other words, think twice about taking on someone who can reach millions of people through the reach of magazines or newspapers. That might have included screenwriters, as well. Take the case of Walter Bernstein, a prolific television writer in the early days of the medium. Bernstein was one of the high profile victims of Sen. Joseph McCarthy's anti-communist witch hunts which, through the notorious House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC). The committee was ostensibly searching for "Fifth Columnists" who were secretly in league with the Soviet Union and plotting to undermine the American way of life. McCarthy and his cronies convinced a wide swath of the American public that Hollywood was a nest of covert commies and would point to films and TV series that were alleged to be sympathetic with the communist doctrine. Conveniently forgotten was the fact that the U.S. government had implored the major studios to make such films after our enemy, Josef Stalin, was betrayed his ally Adolf Hitler, who launched a massive invasion of the Soviet Union. Immediately Stalin found himself now a crucial member of the Allies. It was a relationship of convenience for both sides. Stalin depended on the war in the West to occupy the majority of Hitler's forces, which would otherwise have been able to to capture his entire nation. For America, Britain and the other allied nations, Stalin and his tremendous military resources managed to keep Hitler bogged down in Soviet territory, sustaining huge losses in what became the Fuhrer's greatest military blunder. Hollywood studios were called upon to start cranking out propaganda films disguised as popular entertainment that would paint Stalin and the Soviets in a benign and heroic manner. The studios cooperated in the spirit of patriotism. Ironically, as soon as Nazi Germany was defeated and Stalin became a villain again, these same studios were chastised in some quarters for being pro-communist- and the "proof" was the very film that the U.S. government had implored the studios to make. McCarthy, a far-right zealot, shot to international fame with his hearings before HUAC at which suspected subversives were compelled to testify at. The deal such individuals were offered was simple: rat out suspected fellow subversives or incur the wrath of the inquisitors. Many people did betray their friends and colleagues but others, such as Walter Bernstein, refused to do so. In return they found themselves blacklisted in the entertainment industry. Legally the government could not demand that such people be denied a living but from a practical standpoint, pressure was put on TV networks and studios so that the top brass "voluntarily" decided not to employ these individuals. In the end, McCarthy's hearings unveiled no real communist threat but he did succeed in ruining the lives of plenty of left-wing artists, writers, directors and academics before being publicly humiliated himself.
By the late 1950s, Bernstein was gainfully employed again and was writing for film and TV productions (his credits include the screenplay for "Fail Safe"). In 1976, Bernstein wrote the screenplay for the devastatingly effective Martin Ritt-directed film "The Front", which explored how blacklisted writers had to endure the humiliation of employing "fronts" (i.e non-writers) to sell scripts to studios and networks, ostensibly as their own work. The real writers were denied decent paychecks and screen credit. Bernstein's long memory of those dark days of disgraceful American political policies extended to another film, "The House on Carroll Street", made in 1988. This production was somewhat less political and concentrated more on the aspect of being a thriller, which is probably what attracted the involvement of Peter Yates, who directed such high profile action films as "Robbery", "Bullitt" and "The Deep". The story centers on Emily (Kelly McGillis), a vivacious young woman living in New York City who is strong-willed and independent. She is also a "career girl", to coin a quaint phrase of the time, and holds a prestigious position as photo editor for Life magazine. However, her leftist views place her in the cross-hairs of HUAC and she is called to testify before the committee. When she refuses to cooperate and "name names" of friends and colleagues who might be communists, she is fired after her employer receives pressure from government agents. To make ends meet she makes a measly salary by reading novels to a rich old woman, Miss Venable (Jessica Tandy). While at Venable's house, she notices some strange goings-on in a house across the garden. A group of German men are having intense discussions and acting in a rather suspicious manner. Emily goes into Nancy Drew mode and eavesdrops on them but can't quite figure out what they are talking about. She later meets a young man who was at the meeting and strikes up a friendship with him. However, his behavior only increases her concerns. He is extremely nervous and informs her that there are some dastardly things being planned but he won't reveal what. Emily begins to secretly follow him and discovers that other people are doing the same. Who are they- and why does she feel increasingly threatened herself? Meanwhile, Salwen (Mandy Patinkin), a hard-nosed big wig on the HUAC committee, is ordering increased pressure on Emily to cooperate. The FBI sends a team of agents to routinely harass her and subject her to humiliating searches of her home. One of the agents, Cochran (Jeff Daniels), takes sympathy on her and the two strike up an awkward friendship that later turns into a love affair that could threaten Cochran's career.
The plot becomes increasingly complex as Cochran begins to assist Emily in finding out what the group of German-speaking men are up to. It appears that they are working in league with Salwen and government agents in a top secret plot to provide ex-Nazi war criminals with false identities in order to allow them to enter the United States and become citizens. It seems that the U.S. is willing to forgive these men for their crimes of genocide because they could provide valuable tools to combat the Soviets in the Cold War. Emily and Cochran are even more horrified to discover that the ex-Nazis are being given the identities of deceased Jewish people. Selwan discovers that Emily is on to the scheme and tries to bribe her to keep secret. When that doesn't work, things heat up and attempts are made on her life. The action-packed finale finds Emily and Cochran in a battle for their lives against Selwan and his men in the midst of bustling Grand Central Station.
"The House on Carroll Street" was met with apathy by both critics and the public but the film's attributes are more apparent today. It plays out like a Hitchcock thriller with the innocent protagonist swept up into incredible events that are initially beyond their comprehension. Walter Bernstein's screenplay is both intelligent and largely believable and director Peter Yates downplays violence in favor of good old-fashioned suspense. (It's the kind of film in which the heroine decides to place herself in harm's way by walking through an eerie old house in order to investigate suspicious activities.) The film effectively reflects an era in which America went mad and civil rights were sacrificed in the name of national security. McGillis gives a very fine performance and even provides a nude scene that is completely gratuitous but which was still much-appreciated by this viewer. Jeff Daniels is also commendable as a likable, all-American FBI man who finds that his agency is embroiled in some very un-American activities. Patinkin is a villain in the Bond mode: dripping with phony charm and charisma while all the while plotting nefarious fates for his intended victims. The production design is also commendable and convincingly evokes the look and feel of New York in 1951. The most ambitious sequence is the finale set at Grand Central Station. The mind boggles at how Yates pulled off shooting such a complicated action scene in a place that is jam-packed with people 24 hours a day, but the result is highly impressive . It should also be noted that the movie boasts a fine score by Georges Delerue and excellent cinematography by the esteemed Michael Ballaus. The film is not an underrated classic. There are some occasional laps in logic, loose ends and some highly predictable plot developments but for the most part it plays out in fine style and is consistently interesting and entertaining. Recommended.
The Kino Lorber Blu-ray has a fine transfer and features the original trailer.
The "coming of age" genre of American movies can vary wildly in terms of subject matter. There are the great teenage "coming-of-age"
films (see: John Hughes)- which are more poignant than standard, individual
teen angst stories dealing with topics such as "Why doesn't he like me?"
or "How do I get rid of my acne and become more popular?" Yet other, far more dramatic "coming of age" films center on the evolution of the United States, none more movingly than those dealing with the abolitionist period of our nation's history. It
was a proud time in our history; people of conviction stood up against an
abhorrent societal norm in certain areas of the country. Some people went
willingly and others were dragged kicking and screaming into a new age of
tolerance and growth. Yes, I know, we're still not
all growed-up yet but you notice that with every day passing day we see increasingly
sympathetic reactions to tragedies such as those that happened in Ferguson,
Missouri or Sanford, Florida. Good people often come together through grief.
The North Star is a moving and engaging "coming-of-age"
film. First time writer and director Thomas K. Phillips assembled an impressive
cast to tell this inspirational story based upon factual travails. "Big Ben" Jones and
Moses Hopkins (Jeremiah Trotter and Thomas C. Bartley, Jr., respectively)
become runaway slaves from the plantation they work on in Virginia when Ben
learns that he is about to be sold to an even more heinous slave-owner. Once sold, he will be
shipped to Mississippi - a state where he fears he would be subject to even greater degradation "Let's just say it's a matter of Mississippi
pride,"says the purchaser of "Big Ben," Wilburn Davis (Tim
O'Connell). "With the biggest owned niggrah comes the biggest
prestige," replies the current owner, Master Anderson (John Diehl) and
they settle on a price of $5000. Upon
learning that his new “property†has escaped, Anderson takes immediate action."That's
over a year's salary," Anderson tells the slave hunters he's hired. There
are some frightening, reprehensible creatures in this film but also some benevolent characters, as well. One of them is Mr. Lee (Clifton Powell), who advises the runaways to head toward the free state of Pennsylvania by following- you guessed it- the North Star.At the risk of making a faux pas, there's very little gray in
The North Star - things are pretty much black and white.
The North Star premiered on
UMC (Urban Movie Channel) last month for Black History Month and is now sold at
Wal-Mart and Amazon, and will be available on disc via Netflix as well as
the following digital sites: iTunes, Amazon, VUDU, GooglePlay, Xbox and Vimeo.
I viewed the film on DVD, which unfortunately has no bonus extras or even
set-up options, either. There are scenes in the film where the dialogue is very
soft and lines can be missed, indicating the sound mixing could have been
tweaked a bit better. I would have watched it with subtitles had I been given
the option. One unrelated peeve of
mine is that there isn’t enough screen time afforded to Keith David. This
accomplished actor briefly portrays (less that 2 minutes of screen time) the
great Frederick Douglas. If you have never seen Mr. David perform Shakespeare,
do so if you can. His Othello (with Liev Schreiber as Iago) is the finest I've seen. (I've forgiven him, almost, for playing Cameron Diaz's step-father in
"There's Something About Mary." That's two hours plus I'll never get
back...)
The North
Star,
however, is worth a viewing, despite the fact that the direction is a bit erratic and the editing sometimes results in some confusion. However, cast is uniformly superb. Despite my aforementioned criticisms, I believe that director Thomas K. Phillips has a promising future in the industry and I look forward to his next film.
"Gunman's Walk" is another obscure Western gem that has been given new life through a Blu-ray release by German-based Explosive Media. The 1958 production was filmed in CinemaScope, the widescreen process that studios relied on to combat the newly-evolved threat of television. Director Phil Karlson makes the most of the format and captures the grandeur of the open plains of Arizona and mountainous regions of California for a story of a dysfunctional family that manages to fracture even further despite the abundance of wealth it enjoys. Van Heflin plays Lee Hackett, a one-time pioneer who endured every kind of hardship and struggle to establish a ranch in hostile Indian territory. Over the years he became a state-wide legend by triumphing over adversity and by building a modest cattle ranch into an empire. Lee also helped establish the town which has now grown appreciably. Consequently he carries a lot of weight and political power with the locals. The story opens with Lee as a middle-aged widower who has two grown sons. Davy Hackett (James Darren) is the younger, a quiet, relatively shy young man with a thoughtful disposition. He is the polar opposite of his older brother Ed (Tab Hunter), an arrogant, mean-spirited person who is constantly getting into trouble. Lee prides himself on being a strict disciplinarian over his boys but in reality they realize that his bark is worse than his bite. (He even encourages them to call him by his first name.) Much to Davy's frustration, Lee constantly uses his influence to get Ed out of trouble. If he can't do it legally, he'll use bribery or intimidation.Even while Lee dotes over his eldest son, Ed has plenty of "daddy issues" with his father. He resents that he has been handed everything on a silver platter. He also is fed up with Lee's ego and constant self-aggrandizement for having endured Indian battles, gun fights and the extremities of nature in order to build and protect his business. Ed also accuses his father of wanting him under his control so that he'll never have the opportunity to become his own man and possibly exceed his Lee's achievements. Despite this tense relationship, Lee continues to spoil his eldest son even as he hopes he can exert a positive influence on him.
When Lee and his sons lead a major cattle drive into town the family relaxes afterward by living it up a bit. Lee and Ed don't adhere to the local sheriff's (Robert F. Simon) edict that no one can carry a gun in town and the sheriff is too intimidated to challenge them. Almost immediately Ed gets into trouble by getting drunk, frequenting prostitutes and insulting people- but things are about to get worse. On the prairie Ed and a local ranch hand who is a Sioux engage in what starts as a good-natured race to see who can rope a much-desired white stallion. When the other man threatens to win the prize, Ed shoves him and his horse over the side of a cliff, resulting in the man's death. Ed claims it was an accident but two other Sioux secretly witnessed the incident and report it to the sheriff, who finds his backbone and arrests Ed for murder. However Lee rides to the rescue again and gets his son off the hook by bribing a stranger to say he witnessed the incident and it was indeed an accident. But Ed doesn't learn his lesson and continues to cause trouble- this time with deadly consequences.
Despite being saddled with a "B" movie title, "Gunman's Walk" is a highly compelling, intelligently written drama that is packed with tension thanks to the able direction of Phil Karlson. The script addresses a number of hot-button issues such as abuse of wealth and the ugliness of racism, which were topics not usually covered in Westerns of the period. The film also affords Tab Hunter a role that has far more depth than the one dimensional hunks he was often saddled with playing. As Ed, he is a tragic figure- a man to be despised, yet pitied. Hunter gives a fine performance, at times managing to be charismatic and almost likable before spiraling back into villainy. He's more than matched by old pro Van Heflin, who gives a wonderfully nuanced performance as a man who created his own living hell by over-indulging the son he loves so much. James Darren is capable but rather unexciting as the younger brother, but the part doesn't have much meat to it to begin with. Katherine Grant is fine as a young woman who Darren is trying to romance despite the fact that she is half-Sioux and is looked upon as inferior by his brother and father. As with most Westerns of this era, the cast is peppered with fine character actors. Among them: Mickey Shaughnessy, Robert F. Simon, Ray Teal and Edward Platt. In all, "Gunman's Walk" is a truly fine Western that has been unjustly overlooked for decades.
The Explosive Media Blu-ray is top-notch, as is generally the case with this company's releases. It includes both English and German dubbed versions of the movie along with an interesting stills gallery accompanied by Tab Hunter crooning the Western song "Runaway", which he sings in a pivotal sequence in the film.
(Explosive Media titles are primarily available through Amazon Germany. However, you can often find imports available on eBay and other Amazon sites around the globe. Explosive Media Blu-rays are region free.)
Let's
begin by making one thing clear: The animated opening titles sequence of The Amorous Prawn (U.S. title: The Amorous Mr. Prawn) aside – which features
a pair of flirtatious cartoon crustaceans flitting around the screen – there
isn't a single prawn to be found in director Anthony Kimmins' lukewarm 1962
farce, let alone an amative one. The title in fact references the nickname of
one of the film's secondary characters, a rakish lothario played by Dennis
Price.
The
thrust of the story actually concerns Dodo (Joan Greenwood), the wife of
General Sir Hamish Fitzadam (Cecil Parker) and her resourceful scheme to scare
up some quick cash to help fund his impending retirement. The couple live on a
sparsely manned Army base in the Scottish Highlands, and when Hamish is sent
overseas on business Dodo sets into motion 'Operation Lolly', opening up the
house and expansive grounds of the base as a salmon fishing holiday destination
for American tourists. She bribes Corporal Sydney Green (Ian Carmichael) and the
other members of the small on-site platoon to disguise the building's military
purposes and assist in her plans by posing as hotel staff. Naturally the
subterfuge is a recipe for calamitous misunderstandings.
If
The Amorous Prawn exudes the whiff of
theatrical buffoonery – and not of the particularly amusing variety at that –
it should come as no surprise to learn that it first saw life as a stage play
written by none other than director Kimmins himself. Yet, to be fair, what it
lacks in laughs it manages to compensate for with a modicum of amiable charm.
Ian Carmichael is always watchable (even if his character here is a tad less
endearing than those he played in the likes of School for Scoundrels and Double
Bunk) and there are a number of stalwart Brit reliables on hand to imbue
the proceedings with a mien of comforting familiarity, among them Derek Nimmo (whose
portrayal of Private Willie Maltravers is more camp than a row of tents),
Finlay Currie, Geoffrey Bayldon, Gerald Sim and Michael Ripper. Meanwhile Liz
Fraser brings her stock in trade bosomy blonde sex appeal to the party, though
she's very nearly upstaged in the glam department by one of Price's squeezes,
barmaid 'Busty Babs' (Sandra Dorne).
Today The Amorous Prawn's primary
audience will reside either among nostaligia-seekers who remember it from its
original run round the circuit, or those with a fondness for unassuming Sunday
afternoon fare. Supported by one of John Barry's earliest scores, fans of the
composer may also be drawn to investigate, though it should be said that his
work here falls well shy of his more distinguished endeavours.
The film comes to DVD in the UK from Network, the crisp transfer serving DoP
Wilkie Cooper's black and white photography marvellously. Though not in a
position to clarify – I've seen the film just once before – it should be noted
that some material has allegedly gone AWOL from this release, apparently
amounting to some 3-minutes’ worth of footage. The film was certainly subjected
to BBFC-imposed cuts back in 1962 in order to secure a 'U' certificate, but
given that a fleeting (though startlingly graphic) glimpse of frontal male
nudity when a Scotsman's kilt rides up is present and correct in this 'U'
certificate DVD release, one would have to wonder what could possibly be
missing. The only bonus feature is a generous gallery of production stills, front
of house cards and artwork, some of which bears the film's alternate titles The Amorous Mr Prawn and The Playgirl and the War Minister.
