“THE CONSCIENCE COP”

By Raymond Benson

It was an unexpected pleasure to discover Guy Hamilton’s film version of J. B. Priestley’s An Inspector Calls. The 1954 film is based on Priestley’s 1945 stage play and is a mostly faithful adaptation (by Desmond Davis), with some “opening up” and invented flashback scenes featuring a character who, in the play, is only talked about and doesn’t appear.

Hamilton (who went on to make four James Bond films, including the iconic Goldfinger) does a splendid job focusing on the tight-knit chamber piece that unfolds as a murder mystery-meets-confessional family drama. The acting all around is top-notch as well.

Alastair Sim, known mostly for comic roles and for his definitive Scrooge (A Christmas Carol, 1951, aka Scrooge in the U.K.), plays Inspector Poole (called “Goole” in the play), a seemingly all-knowing, canny inquisitor who appears out of nowhere one night in 1912 London to question each member of the wealthy and upper class Birling family about a young woman named Eva Smith (played in the aforementioned flashbacks by the charming Jane Wenham). Eva apparently died from poison that day in the infirmary. As is soon revealed, the patriarch and matriarch of the Birlings (played by Arthur Young and Olga Lindo), their daughter Sheila (Eileen Moore), their alcoholic and rebellious son (future writer/director Bryan Forbes, who went on to make such classics as Whistle Down the Wind in 1961 and other British classics of the 60s), and Sheila’s fiancé Gerald Croft (Brian Worth), all had dealings with the deceased young woman prior to her death. Was it a suicide? Was it murder?

As the film goes on, Poole deftly persuades each participant to tell his or her story about Eva. At one point, though, we begin to suspect that Poole is not who he seems. In fact, there is something rather supernatural about him. He predicts actions before they happen, and he mysteriously comes and goes. Perhaps he is really there to act as the conscience of these people who may or may not bear some responsibility in Eva’s demise. The outcome of the mystery is quite satisfactory, but it’s also open to interpretation. Brilliant stuff, actually.

Kino Lorber’s new Blu-ray restoration (from StudioCanal) looks marvelous, and it contains optional English subtitles for the hearing impaired. An audio commentary by film historian David Del Valle is included as a supplement, along with a short interview with actress Jane Wenham (who gave up acting and married Albert Finney, a union that produced a son but ended in divorce after four years). Trailers for this and other Kino Lorber releases round out the package.

An Inspector Calls is a terrific British drawing-room mystery/drama, and an admirable example of how to adapt a story from stage to screen. Highly recommended.

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“SHORE LEAVE SHENANIGANS”

By Raymond Benson

British noir is a slightly different animal than American film noir, which began in the early 1940s in Hollywood and lasted until roughly 1958 (if one is considering “pure” film noir and its singular traits). The British version, as well as the French and Italian editions, usually concentrates on a more “straight” narrative form with less melodrama. It is probably more true-to-life, drawing from the naturalism of Italian Neo-realism, than its counterpart across the Atlantic. It is certainly less histrionic and heightened. Nevertheless, British noir contains hallmarks of noir everywhere—black-and-white, Expressionistic photography; cynical and hard-edged characters; femmes fatale; brutality; and, of course, a crime.

Pool of London is a 1951 Ealing Studios crime drama (the studio was still making other genre pictures other than comedies at this time) that takes place in and around that geographical site. The titular “Pool of London” is a shipping port of the Thames that stretches from London Bridge alongside Billingsgate on the south side of the City. At one time, it was ripe for criminal activities, mainly smuggling. It is an ideal setting for a noir movie, especially with the post-war dreariness that still hung over the area when the picture was made. This gritty milieu serves as the movie’s own production design, as DP Gordon Dines shot most of it on location.

The film also has a couple of James Bond connections. Earl Cameron, the Bermudian actor who worked for decades in Britain in film and television, was “Pinder” in Thunderball. Coincidentally, the co-screenwriter (with John Eldridge) is Jack Whittingham, the writer who worked with Ian Fleming and Kevin McClory on the early drafts and screenplays of the same film, from which the 1965 Bond movie was adapted.

The merchant ship Dunbar has pulled into the Pool of London, giving its crew shore leave. Dan MacDonald (Bonar Colleano, an American actor who worked in Britain until his untimely death in the late 50s) has at least a couple of girls in the port, and sets out with his friend, Johnny Lambert (Cameron) to hit the town—such that it is. Maisie (Moira Lister) is Dan’s main squeeze, but she becomes the femme fatale of the story when she later betrays him to the police. Dan is now probably more interested in Sally (the striking Renée Asherson). Johnny hooks up with Pat (Susan Shaw), which provides Britain with the first interracial relationship depicted on screen.

Meanwhile, acrobat/magician/music hall performer Charlie Vernon (Max Adrian) has plotted with some local gangsters to steal a cache of diamonds. Because the Dunbar sailors are accustomed to performing minor smuggling as favors for friends and girlfriends, Dan is unwittingly enlisted by the criminals to smuggle the diamonds out of London aboard the ship for delivery elsewhere. Unfortunately, a night guard is killed during the burglary, so the heat to catch the bad guys is intense. Only then does Dan realize what he’s carrying, and what he needs to do to make things right.

This is taut, engaging filmmaking that quickly establishes a mood and sense of place that holds the viewer captive for nearly 90 minutes. The music by John Addison is subtle and low key, and yet it contains a catchy orchestral riff that stays with the viewer after the movie is over. Basil Dearden’s direction is reminiscent of that of American Anthony Mann’s noir work. In short, this is a good time at the home video theater.

Kino Lorber’s new high definition restoration (from StudioCanal) looks great and is properly gray and grainy. There is an audio commentary by entertainment journalist and author Bryan Reesman, as well as an enlightening recent interview with actor Cameron, who, at 102, is still alive at the time of writing! An additional supplement is a locations featurette presented by film historian Richard Dacre. Trailers for this and other Kino Lorber releases round out the package.

Pool of London is highly recommended for fans of British crime pictures, Ealing Studios productions, and film noir in general.

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“NOSTALGIA, SWASHBUCKLING, AND LAUGHTER”

By Raymond Benson

Mel Brooks served as executive producer on this thoroughly delightful picture released in 1982 and directed by actor/director Richard Benjamin. It feels like a Brooks movie (but perhaps not as zany). In fact, My Favorite Year, which was written by Norman Steinberg and Dennis Palumbo, from Palumbo’s story, is loosely inspired by Brooks’ days as a writer on Sid Caesar’s early television comedy/variety programs, Your Show of Shows and Caesar’s Hour, in the 1950s.

The year is 1954, New York City, and Benjy Stone (Mark Linn-Baker) is a young comedy writer on “Comedy Cavalcade,” which stars the demanding and difficult-to-work-for King Kaiser (Joseph Bologna). The studio is lucky to snare a guest appearance on the show by the once hugely popular but now fading swashbuckling movie star, Alan Swann (Peter O’Toole). Swann is a notorious alcoholic, is unreliable, and has a reputation for major trouble. Stone is assigned the job of being Swann’s babysitter during the rehearsal process to make sure the actor is on time, that he stays away from the booze and women, and is present for the ever-important live broadcast. Along the way, Stone falls in love with his co-worker, K.C. (Jessica Harper), but she’s not impressed with Benjy—yet. Throw in a subplot involving a mob boss (Cameron Mitchell) who wants to kill King Kaiser for making fun of him on the show, and My Favorite Year becomes a laugh riot that also manages to trigger a great deal of nostalgia for those halcyon years of early TV.

O’Toole received a deserved Best Actor Oscar nomination for his performance. The character is based on Errol Flynn, who in reality was a guest on one episode of Sid Caesar’s TV show. The Benjy Stone character is an amalgamation of not only Brooks himself, but also Woody Allen, who worked on the same show. The character of Herb (Basil Hoffman), is allegedly based on Neil Simon, who also was a member of the Sid Caesar writing troupe. Simon tended to whisper his ideas to a colleague, and that’s what Herb does throughout the movie.

The film is full of comic set pieces, and every actor brings something humorous to the table. A highlight of the film is when Stone brings Swann to his family home in Brooklyn for dinner with his mother, Belle (Lainie Kazan) and Filipino stepfather, and the party is crashed by Stone’s uncle (Lou Jacobi) and others. Look for Gloria Stuart (the older Rose in Titanic) in a small role as a woman who dances with O’Toole at a nightclub.

Warner Archive’s high definition transfer is on par with other releases by the company, which prints the disks on demand. It comes with a DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 Mono soundtrack. An entertaining audio commentary by director Benjamin is included, and it should be noted that he also displays an assured hand helming the proceedings.

My Favorite Year will provide an evening of nostalgia, swashbuckling, and laughter. Especially recommended for fans of early television, who will pick up on the various references and Easter eggs.

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“BOARDING HOUSE BLUES”

By Raymond Benson

Having never heard of this British production prior to the release of Kino Lorber’s new high definition transfer of the picture, this reviewer approached it with caution. It was much better than expected. Luckily, there is much to be said about Connecting Rooms.

Based on a stage play called The Cellist by Marion Hart, the screenplay was written by director Franklin Gollings. It’s a low-budget affair that was shot in London in 1969, and there is a decidedly TV-movie feel about it. The picture was first released in 1970 in the United States, of all places, and didn’t receive a U.K. release until 1972.

What Connecting Rooms has going for it is the presence of the remarkable Bette Davis, who delivers a note-perfect late career performance as Wanda, an aging cellist who lives in a seedy boarding house in London. Every night Wanda goes to “the theatre” to perform, but we never see this happening. We do witness her practicing in her room, and she seems to be quite an accomplished musician. It’s obvious, though, that Wanda is very lonely and yearns for some kind of personal connection, and she has secrets.

Wanda’s room connects to another one, and the door in-between does not lock. It also easily swings opens when there’s a strong breeze through one of the windows in either room, or if one leans on it. James (Michael Redgrave, who in the film looks astonishingly like Alec Baldwin does now), moves in to the adjoining flat. One can see there is something wrong. He is a schoolmaster, but he is mysteriously out of a job and down on his luck. We learn later what the malady is (he was falsely accused of an inappropriate relationship with a male student but was sacked anyway).

There are other colorful characters in the boarding house. Mickey (Alexis Kanner) is an obnoxious, but charming, young songwriter/playboy who uses Wanda for what little money she has, and is also doing everything he can to get one of his compositions to a famous French singer, Claudia (Olga Georges-Picot), including seducing her. The landlady, Mrs. Brent (Kay Walsh), is a nosy parker who simply walks in on her tenets any time she pleases and isn’t beyond criticizing what she perceives as flaws in their personal lives.

Of course, as the story unfolds, Wanda and James develop an attraction and we learn the truths about our lead characters. As previously noted, Davis is quite good and carries the film. Redgrave also delivers a heartbreaking performance, and it is the chemistry of these two that elevate the picture above Lifetime Channel Movie status.

Of possible note to James Bond fans—there is a connection. The hands (and sounds) of classical cellist Amaryllis Fleming—Ian Fleming’s half-sister—appear in place of Davis’s when she’s playing the cello.

Kino Lorber’s presentation looks fine, and it comes with an audio commentary by film historian David Del Valle. There are no other supplements other than trailers for this and other Kino releases.

An effective study of “boarding house blues,” Connecting Rooms is worth it for the acting by two cinema veterans.

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(Above: Raphael Peter Engel (aka Zandor Vorkov) today.

BY MARK CERULLI

When you think of Dracula, some iconic names immediately come to mind – Bela Lugosi, Christopher Lee, Gary Oldman, Jack Palance… and Raphael Engel.

Wait.

Who?

Raphael Peter Engel, aka “Zandor Vorkov” played the thirsty count in one of the most unique films to feature the immortal character – 1971’s Dracula vs Frankenstein, made by the prolific B-movie team of director Al Adamson and co-writer/producer Sam Sherman.

Both the actor and the film itself took a very circuitous route to come into being. Born in Cleveland, Ohio, Raphael (then known as Roger) grew up with a younger brother in Miami, Florida. “We did Saturday matinees – two films, cartoons, a short, popcorn and I’d walk down many blocks to the theater…”, Raphael recalls in an exclusive Cinema Retro interview. “That influenced me. We’d come home and play the characters we had seen.”

He shipped out to Vietnam in 1965, coming under enemy fire as soon as he stepped off the troop carrier. After serving a year in the Army – “I made it out without a scratch,” – Engel returned to late 1960s New York where he managed record stores in Gotham’s Greenwich village while soaking up the era’s vibrant music scene. A collector of life stories, one of his favorites is helping Stevie Wonder make some record choices on a Christmas Eve. He also hung out with music producer Gary Katz (Steely Dan, Jim Croce) and drifted into the world of film finance. (Contrary to popular belief, he was never a stockbroker.) Raphael didn’t know it, but this was all leading up to his donning Dracula’s cape.

Dracula Vs Frankenstein started out as a totally different film – Satan’s Blood Freaks, later titled The Blood Seekers and meant to be a sequel to Sherman and Adamson’s 1969 effort, Satan’s Sadists (“The First Biker Horror Movie!”). Tapping into national unease over the Manson murders, marauding biker gangs and occultism, Satan’s Sadists was a hit.

Satan’s Blood Freaks/The Blood Seekers starred The Wolfman himself, Lon Chaney Jr. (in his final role), J. Carrol Naish (his final role), Al Adamson’s wife, Regina Carrol (billed as “the Freak Out Girl” in Satan Sadists), Angelo Rossitto from 1932’s Freaks and returning cast member Russ Tamblyn – more famous for his work in West Side Story. The plot followed a mad doctor Durea (Naish) hiding out in a seaside sideshow, whose lumbering henchman (Chaney) murdered people on the beach so he could reanimate their bodies. The results were… disappointing at best. There was talk of just shelving the film, but Sherman wanted to take a crack at fixing it – by introducing the iconic characters of Dracula and the Frankenstein monster. As he was rewriting the script, he and Adamson arranged a screening of their film and Raphael was there with a financier. Although Sherman wanted to tap John Carradine to play Dracula (as he had in Universal’s House of Frankenstein and House of Dracula), they didn’t want to pay his fee. Adamson took note of the tall, gaunt, assistant with the jet black Afro and popped the question, “How’d you like to play Count Dracula?” Funnily enough, Raphael didn’t even like horror films but he accepted the challenge. “It became an adventure,” Raphael says, adding, “When I commit to something, I really care about people and want to do the best I can so I pushed through my own resistance and thought, ‘How do I play this role?’”

Although he recalled seeing Lugosi’s epic performance (“It definitely set the tone for everything…”) Raphael tried to make the part his own. “I did everything I could to embody what my young self understood a vampire (to be).” How did he rate his turn as the Count? “It was different. to say the least. The other guys who played it were subtler and didn’t have long curly hair and I was younger.”

While the film was decidedly low budget, it was a fairly easy shoot. “There was no tension there except with J. Caroll Naish, who we found out later was hurting like mad (due to osteoporosis.)” Raphael remembers. “Angelo (Rossitto) kept to himself… I never remember him smiling… Regina Carrol was as nice as could be and John Bloom (the Frankenstein monster) was in makeup for hours.” (Sam Sherman has a memorable tale of seeing the 7-foot Bloom becoming more and more impatient in the makeup chair. Finally, the producer said, “John, what else do you have to do?” Bloom replied, “It’s tax season. I’m an accountant!”) Lon Chaney’s scenes had been shot two years earlier, so young Raphael never got a chance to meet the Wolfman. (Chaney, a heavy smoker and drinker, was suffering from throat cancer during production and died of heart failure in 1973.)

Dr. Durea’s (Frankenstein) lab scenes were shot at the Hollywood Stages in West Hollywood, utilizing studio alleys and the soundstage roof. Although done on the cheap, the production did utilize the same electro-magnetic gear from 1931’s Frankenstein, created by electrical effects wizard, Kenneth Strickfaden. “It kept me on my toes,” Raphael recalled. “I walked onto the set and somebody said ‘Stay back, Drac’ those are live!” Along with genuine camp, the film offers a rare opportunity to see the original Frankenstein electric gear in color.

Another member of the eclectic cast was longtime Famous Monsters of Filmland editor, Forrest J. Ackerman, playing an enemy of Dr. Frankenstein’s. Dracula appears in his car, directing him to a spot where the Frankenstein monster is waiting. Raphael remembers the legendary editor as being “A nice guy… he was really into it.” Ackerman returned the favor by putting Raphael on the cover of Famous Monsters issue #89. “That was an honor,” he says. (Ackerman also came up with Raphael’s distinctive screen name – “Zandor”, from Church of Satan founder Anton Szandor LaVey and “Vorkov” because it sorta sounded like Karloff!)

(Above: J.Carroll Naish with Forry Ackerman on the set.)

Originally the film was supposed to end with the count being impaled on a pipe as Regina Carrol escaped with her beau (Hawaiian Eye star Anthony Eisley). Sam Sherman considered that ending to be weak so he came up with a new one taking place in an abandoned church. Raphael and Carrol were flown back East and the climax was filmed in rural Somers, New York. Not having the funds to fly John Bloom in, the monster was played by Raphael’s former record store boss, Shelly Weiss. (“We just need a big guy who we could make up and follow directions… and he (Shelly) went nuts, he loved it and he got to tell everybody that story.”)

“They gave me a different cloak and they handed me some Halloween plastic teeth, somebody put clown white all over me and that made for a fun movie,” Raphael recalls with a laugh. Yes, the Count was wearing those upper and lower cheapo plastic fangs every 1960s kid wore at Halloween!

(Above: Regina Carrol and Lon Chaney Jr. in a candid moment.)

Fake fangs or not, Dracula literally tears the monster limb from limb, finally ripping off his head. Dracula’s shocking act of violence is totally at odds with the gentle, civic-minded actor. “Everybody who knows me said ‘You did what?’” Raphael recalls. Three years later, Monty Python’s Terry Gilliam riffed off the grisly sequence with the memorable scene of King Arthur (Graham Chapman) dismembering the Black Knight (John Cleese) in Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Interestingly, Gilliam once worked with Sam Sherman at Warren Publications, publisher of Famous Monsters.

“EALING GOES SCOTTISH”

By Raymond Benson

The famous British studio, Ealing, made many kinds of pictures and became a major force in the U.K.’s film industry, especially after producer Michael Balcon took it over. While the studio had already made a few comedies, for some reason in the late 1940s it started producing more of them. The natures of these comedies shifted and became more intelligent, dry, and focused on underdog characters who valiantly attempt to overcome a series of obstacles. Sometimes the protagonists are successful—and sometimes not. Along the way, though, a series of misadventures occur. They range from “amusing” to “riotously funny.” It all worked, and the Ealing Comedies became a sub-genre unto themselves, especially when they starred the likes of Alec Guinness, Alastair Sim, or Stanley Holloway.

The year 1949 is generally considered the beginning of the run, which lasted until around 1957. In ’49, one of the best Ealing Comedy, Kind Hearts and Coronets (directed by Robert Hamer), was released, but so was Whisky Galore!, with Alexander Mackendrick making his directorial debut. From the accounts told in the documentary supplements contained in this marvelous new Blu-ray package from Film Movement, Mackendrick had a difficult time with the production. Shot entirely on location in remote areas of Scotland, there were over-schedule and over-budget problems, and the director himself tended to downplay the picture’s quality in his later years.

That said, Whisky Galore! (released as Tight Little Island in the U.S.) ended up being a hit at the box office and is today fondly remembered as one of the great Ealing Comedies. Its success assured Mackendrick’s place in making future films for the studio, like The Man in the White Suit (1951) and The Ladykillers (1955), as well as The Maggie (1954), which is also included in this Blu-ray two-movie set.

Based on true events, it’s the story of a Scottish isle called Todday and the inhabitants who love their whisky. During World War II, the island goes dry and it’s near impossible to obtain the magic nectar. One night a ship carrying cartons of whisky meant for another port wrecks on the coast. While Captain Waggett (Basil Radford, of “Charters and Caldicott” fame), the English head of the Home Guard on the island, attempts to safeguard the whisky cases, everyone else is determined to confiscate it and hide what they can in secret places. The comedy comes with Waggett’s frustration at constantly being foiled, and with the various eccentric and colorful characters that populate Todday.

Every cast member is wonderful in the movie, but Joan Greenwood, who had starred in Kind Hearts and Coronets, is a standout with her sultry, sexy low voice and delivery.

The Maggie (released as High and Dry in the U.S.) also has a Scottish seafaring theme, with the stubborn Captain MacTaggart (Alex Mackenzie) and his pitiful “puffer” cargo boat attempting to haul expensive furniture owned by American millionaire and businessman, Calvin Marshall (Paul Douglas) from one port to another. At first the captain gets the job due to a misunderstanding and his own perpetuation of it, but ultimately Marshall allows the Maggie to haul his possessions. Everything that can go wrong does.

Film Movement’s new high definition digital restorations from StudioCanal are excellent. Whisky Galore! comes with an audio commentary by British film expert John Ellis. Supplements include a 52-minute documentary, “Distilling Whisky Galore!”, “The Real Whisky Galore!” (about the shipwreck of the original whisky-carrying vessel upon which the film is based), and a colorful booklet containing an essay by film scholar Ronald Bergen. There are no supplements associated with The Maggie.

For fans of Ealing Comedies, Scottish history and atmosphere, and well-written and performed British cinema, the Whisky Galore!/The Maggie combo pack is for you!

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"WTF VALUE"

BY RAYMOND BENSON

Only serious film history aficionados and perhaps viewers of Turner Classic Movies will be aware that there was once a live-action version of Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland adapted by Hollywood in the early pre-code years. It was released in 1933 by Paramount and directed by Norman Z. McLeod, the guy who had helmed the Marx Brothers’ comedies Monkey Business (1931) and Horse Feathers (1932). McLeod would go on to make such titles as It’s a Gift (1934), Topper (1937), The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (1947), and The Paleface (1948).

The production of Alice in 1933 boasts a screenplay by none other than heavyweights Joseph L. Mankiewicz (you know, the fellow who wrote and directed All About Eve) and William Cameron Menzies, the man behind Things to Come and a production designer whose hands were all over Hollywood and British productions over the next two decades. The script also borrows heavily from the popular and then-current stage production written by Eva La Gallienne and Florida Friebus, although they do not receive screen credit.

The main thing the movie has going for it is the spectacular roundup of Hollywood stars who play all the fantasy characters in brief vignettes. Gary Cooper, W. C. Fields, Cary Grant, Edward Everett Horton, Edna May Oliver, Richard Arlen, Jack Oakie, Sterling Holloway, Roscoe Karns, Baby LeRoy, Charlie Ruggles, Ford Sterling, and Ned Sparks are just a few of the “VIPs” who appear in the picture, all stalwart or rising stars in Tinsel Town at the time. Alice is played with conviction by Charlotte Henry, who enjoyed a decent career as an ingenue and young woman throughout the 1930s, but she retired from acting in the early 40s.

The film is not particularly good—in fact, it was a major bomb for Paramount at the time—but take heart! The “WTF? VALUE” of this movie is tremendously high. In fact, if a viewer is in that altered state (not that Cinema Retro is condoning such a thing!), the experience of viewing this short (76 minutes) feature, with its extremely surreal costumes and makeup, Betty Boop-style sets come to life, and just plain weirdness, would be elevated.

Suffice it to say that Alice in Wonderland is worth the price of admission for its succession of bizarre cameos, especially Fields as Humpty Dumpty, Oakie and Karns as Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee, and Horton as the Mad Hatter. It’s a shame, though, that we only hear some of these actors’ voices because they are heavily made up or wearing full head costumes (such as Cary Grant as the Mock Turtle). One highlight is the “The Walrus and the Carpenter” animated sequence created by the innovative Harman-Ising Studio.

Kino Lorber’s new high definition transfer looks good enough, and it comes with an audio commentary by film historian Lee Gambin. There are also theatrical trailers for this and other Kino Lorber releases.

If you’re a fan of pre-code Hollywood, Salvador Dalí-like surrealism, and of Lewis Carroll’s classic dream tale, you owe it to yourself to see this jaw-dropping curiosity.

(A personal note: This reviewer has a history with the La Gallienne/Friebus stage play. I was a theatre major in college (way back in the mid-1970s), and my first job after graduating was serving as an Apprentice Director (and composer/musician) for the Alley Theatre in Houston, Texas for the 1978-79 season before moving to New York City. The Alley did a production of Alice in Wonderland, and I was in charge of composing the songs—set to Carroll’s lyrics, the same words used in the 1933 film—and incidental pieces. The actors sang the songs, and I accompanied them on keyboards and a variety of other instruments. There were several more songs in the stage play than were utilized in the film. The production was a major hit for the Alley, and we performed it over 150 times in the one season. Watching the Kino Lorber release brought back a flood of memories, especially since I recognized the lyrics—but I heard them in my head with my tunes, which I dare say were much better than the melodies in the movie (composed by Dimitri Tiomkin, no less!). That aside, it is indeed remarkable how closely the film adaptation really is to the stage play.)

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"ALASTAIR SIM'S SCHOOL FOR LAUGHTER": 4 CLASSIC COMEDIES; BLU-RAY SPECIAL EDITIONS FROM FILM MOVEMENT

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REVIEW: "SECRET CEREMONY" (1968) STARRING ELIZABETH TAYLOR, MIA FARROW AND ROBERT MITCHUM; BLU-RAY SPECIAL EDITION