Reader and contributor Allan Webb made us aware of this fascinating footage shot by the Lumière brothers of Venice in 1896. It's purported to be their first experiment in filmmaking. Given that the cover story of Cinema Retro issue #49 is "The Venetian Affair", it seems appropriate to post this. One aspect stands out: the timeless visual quality of Venice. Aside from the fashions of the late 19th century, the landmarks seen in the footage could have been filmed today.
I
love podcasts about film, whether they are emceed by critics or by Joe Blows
whose only claim to fame is that they are equally as passionate and as
fanatical about film as I am. There are many podcasts out there that are
dedicated to the science fiction and horror film genres. Some of them are far
too lengthy for their own good and the hosts go off on unintended tangents, but
for the most part the good ones are short and sweet and stick to the subject at
hand.
A
very interesting one that has come to my attention is The Movies That Made
Me which can be found on the Trailers from Hell film website under
the (surprise) “Podcasts†heading. It’s hosted by Josh Olson, author of the scathing,
five-million-plus hits Village Voice article “I Will Not Read Your Fucking
Script†and the Oscar-nominated screenplay of David Cronenberg’s A History
of Violence (2005), and film director Joe Dante, best known for Hollywood
Boulevard (1976), The Howling (1981), Gremlins (1984) and Innerspace
(1987).They are well into Season Three, but one episode that stood out
to me is the first episode from Season Two which features director William
Friedkin. Mr Friedkin is one of the most interesting, knowledgeable, and funniest
people to chat with when it comes to just about anything. The triumvirate engage
in a spirited conversation which includes a brief discussion of Mr. Friedkin’s “Nightcrawlersâ€
portion of The Twilight Zone series revival which aired in the fall of
1985 just weeks before the release of his masterful To Live and Die in L.A.;
the 75 seconds he cut from The Exorcist for the February 1980 CBS-TV
airing; his lack of affection for my favorite horror film, Stanley Kubrick’s The
Shining (1980); his flat-out repudiation of film school; his love of
Michelangelo Antonioni (an enthusiasm I share with him); his turning down All
the President’s Men; and an interesting and insightful tidbit about Bob
Woodward all made me want to hear more.
(Look for Todd Garbarini's exclusive interview with William Friedkin on the 50th anniversary of "The French Connection" in Cinema Retro issue #50, coming in May.)
Philip
Borsos’ “The Grey Fox†(1982) has been released on Blu-ray in a 4K restoration
by Kino Lorber Studio Classics.The film
opens with good news and bad news for its protagonist, Bill Miner (Richard
Farnsworth).Good news first: Bill
emerges a free man from San Quentin in 1901 after serving twenty years for
armed robbery.The bad news?Nearing sixty, Bill has one expertise-
holding up stagecoaches.Illegality
aside, it’s now a useless specialty because stagecoaches have become
obsolete.Then, watching “The Great
Train Robbery†at a nickelodeon, he has an epiphany.Although stagecoaches may be a thing of the
past, holding up trains that carry express shipments can’t be that much
different, he reasons.His first robbery
goes sour, but he experiences better success after he crosses the border into
British Columbia to prey on the railroads there with his junior associate
Shorty (Wayne Robson).Needing a base of
operations, he finds a new name and cover identity in the remote town of
Kamloops as “George Edwards,†a mining engineer, thanks to local businessman
Jack Budd (Ken Pogue), a former associate in crime.Budd doesn’t do the favor out of the kindness
of his heart.He has his eye on a herd
of horses that he wants Bill and Shorty to rustle for him.But the arrangement proceeds smoothly enough
that Bill begins to feel at home in Kamloops.He even finds romance with Kate Flynn (Jackie Burroughs), a self-employed
photographer in her forties.She is as
fiercely independent as he is.She has
to be, she argues: “In this country, you’re not taken seriously unless you’re
Caucasian, Protestant, and most of all, male.â€He admires her spirit and she is charmed by his modest, respectful
demeanor.Like everybody else in
Kamloops, including the friendly resident lawman Fernie (Timothy Webber), she’s
unaware that “George Edwards†is actually the notorious Bill Miner, “The Gentleman
Bandit.â€Unaware that is, until a
tenacious Pinkerton detective (Gary Reineke) shows up in town on Bill’s trail
from the botched robbery in Washington.
“The
Grey Fox,†a Canadian production, was Philip Borsos’ first feature film.The production is distinguished by the
striking compositions, assured pace, and keen sense of time and place that
you’d expect to see from an older, more seasoned filmmaker.In fact, Borsos was only 29.The director’s promising career encompassed
only four more movies, including an ambitious but troubled Canadian-Chinese
co-production, “Bethune†(1990), before leukemia claimed him at age 41.After “The Grey Fox†became a hit in Canada,
it was distributed by Zoetrope in the U.S. on the art-house circuit, a wise strategy
for Borsos’ low-key, character-driven Northwestern.Richard Farnsworth, in his first starring
credit, was the only U.S. actor on the marquee.A veteran Hollywood stunt man and bit player, Farnsworth had won acclaim
and an Academy Award nomination for a supporting role in “Comes a Horsemanâ€
(1978).While a star like Henry Fonda,
Burt Lancaster, or Lee Marvin would have given the production a higher profile
at neighborhood theaters, it’s difficult to imagine that any of them could have
bettered Farnsworth’s quietly sly, believably weathered presence. Farnsworth
was nominated for a Best Actor Golden Globe and a Best Performance by a Foreign
Actor Canadian Genie Award. He also received the London Critics Circle Film
Award for Actor of the Year. The rest of the cast is comparably good.
The Kino Lorber
special edition of “The Grey Fox†is packed with special features, including
audio commentary by Alex Cox, interviews with producer Peter O’Brian and
composer Michael Conway Baker, a featurette about the 4K restoration, and a
theatrical re-release trailer.Fans of
Westerns and flavorful period dramas will welcome the opportunity to revisit
the movie they may have seen long ago on home video in the VHS era, or to
encounter it here for the first time.
Today
we might say that David Lynch is the foremost purveyor of surrealism in the
arts; but he inherited that mantle from the late, great Luis Buñuel,
who was one of the fathers of the surrealist movement in Europe in the
1920s.
What
is surrealism, you ask? You probably “know it when you see it,†but the true
definition, as imposed by the surrealists who made it a thing, is to
portray in an artistic expression the nature of dreams. That can be in
paintings (Salvador DalÃ, Max Ernst), theatre (Jean
Cocteau), photography (Man Ray), and film (Buñuel, along with
others like Cocteau, Germaine Dulac, and more). Surrealism in film may just seem
“weird†to some audiences, but it’s actually satirical, nightmarish, irreverent,
and profound, and it can be a commentary on the real, contemporary world.
Luis
Buñuel was indeed the master of cinematic
surrealism. From his debut short silent picture, Un Chien Andalou (1929),
that he co-directed with Salvador DalÃ, through such titles
as Los olvidados (The Young and the Damned; 1950), Viridiana (1961),
and Belle de jour (1967), Buñuel challenged
audiences with often brilliant, sometimes confounding work that was
controversial, hilarious, and political. Poor Buñuel had to move from
one country to another because he’d sometimes make a film that the authorities
found objectionable, so he’d go somewhere else—and then rinse and repeat.
Mostly, though, he worked in France, Mexico, and his native Spain.
In
the 1970s, Buñuel himself was in his seventies, and he made
three of his most acclaimed masterpieces; in fact, they were his final three
movies. They were French/Spanish co-productions, utilizing casts and crews from
both countries, many of whom worked on more than one of these and in some cases
all three. Produced by Serge Silberman, the titles serve as something of a
trilogy, although in truth they are unrelated.
The
Criterion Collection has released a new box set containing all three films in
high definition, upgraded from earlier, separate DVD releases. It is, frankly,
an abundance of riches.
Criterion’s
3-disk Blu-ray set presents all three films in new high-definition digital
restorations with uncompressed monaural soundtracks. The distinctive 1970s film
stock is quite evident, but the images are much improved over the previous DVD
editions. Supplements are bountiful, way too many to list here (all the extras
from the DVDs are ported over, and there are many additions on each disk).
There are several documentaries about Buñuel, some of which
are feature-length, and vintage “making of†featurettes. Interviews with a
selection of Buñuel’s colleagues, such as co-writer Carrière,
are fascinating. The thick booklet contains essays by critic Adrian Martin and
novelist/critic Gary Indiana, along with interviews with Buñuel.
Three
Films by Luis Buñuel is highly recommended for fans of art
house cinema, unconventional narrative, black humor, and exquisite oddities
that you just don’t see every day.
Cineploit records have announced their two
latest releases for 2020; LAWA “The Parallax View“ (Cine 23) and PAN/SCAN
“Kosmonauter†(Cine 24).
It’s particularly good to have LAWA back. On “The
Parallax View†(not related to the 1970s conspiracy movie classic), they take a
ride through French and Italian cinema score of the 70s and 80s from the works
of Michel Colombier, Michel Legrand and Jacques Revaux to Alessandro
Alessandroni, Daniele Patucchi, Nico Catanese, G & M de Angelis and the master
of them all, Ennio Morricone. There are also some original compositions and
concepts from Lawa which fit seamlessly into the impressive playlist. Once
again they are honouring the world of film music in their idiosyncratic, very
personal way. After their first Cineploit release, "Omaggio a Lucio Fulci
and Fabio Frizzi“ (Exploit 02, 2012, Vinyl only) and the follow up,
"Omaggio a Riz Ortolani“ (Exploit 06, 2015, vinyl only), these latest very
special tracks have been renewed in Lawa's dark electronic style and showcases
without doubt, the high-level craftsmanship of the composers who created them.
Some versions are close to the original, while others have acted as springboards
for new ideas and creations. This release is probably LAWA's final reinterpretation
of classic obscure film scores, as the combined talents of both Alain Leonard
and Alex Wank are creating more and more of their own atmospheric soundtrack
music for documentaries, shorts and feature films - hopefully soon to be
released through the Cineploit label.
Four
years on from the debut album “Cinematic Liesâ€, Pan/Scan return with their much
anticipated second full-length album, Kosmonauter. Pan/Scan is the brainchild
of Christian Rzechak, the man behind the highly impressive outfit, Sospetto. Inspired
by synthesizer soundscapes of the Berlin
or Düsseldorf school, but with an atmospheric modern feel, Rzechak delivers a synth-driven
and dynamic piece of cinematic music perfectly composed and suited for the
retro sci-fi genre.
Reminiscent
of composers such as Jóhann Jóhannsson, Cliff Martinez and Steve Moore, Pan/Scan’s
sound is somewhat familiar but that is openly intentional. The fusion of
retro-futurism and contemporary electro-ambient innovations takes you on an
exhilarating aural trip into the darkest, furthest reaches of infinite space! The
album is both creative and enjoyable, posing questions such as; who is the Kosmonauter?
What is his mission? Does he defend us against danger or is he a threat
himself? The six tracks on the album provide a story, but where this journey
goes is up to the listener. The track titles hint at the true meaning, but who
can interpret them?
Cineploit
continue to impress and provide a vital bloodline for this retro-styled (and
essential) soundtrack genre. They not only fulfil the need, but also recognise
the importance of maintaining this type of work so that it is never allowed to
fade away. Long may it continue.
The
Parallax View and Kosmonauter are both released on December 11th and come in
several formats including LP 180g coloured vinyl limited to 300 copies (200
+CD), LP 180g black vinyl limited to 200 copies (50 +CD) and CD in a mini
gatefold sleeve limited to 400 copies.
Monday,
January 9, 1978 was an eventful day in my family’s life when childhood friends
of ours from several doors down accidentally locked themselves out of their
house and ended up eating spaghetti with us as their mother gave birth to their
newly welcomed brother. It is an event that we have mentioned time and time
again over the last four decades with fondness and laughter. That same day saw
the broadcast of a MOW, entertainment industry shorthand for a “Movie of the Weekâ€
made specifically for television, of Superdome, a silly, predictable and
pedestrian ABC Monday Night movie about the efforts to throw the Super Bowl at
the Superdome in New Orleans in an effort to make lots of money. This is a
shame considering that Superdome was actually filmed in New Orleans and
a great deal of work was done to ensure high production values. (The Superdome would
become infamous in August 2005 during the Hurricane Katrina fiasco when it
became a makeshift haven for thousands trying to escape high winds, only to
encounter marauders, rapists and overflowing toilets. What a nightmare…) The TV production was one of many films relating to American football that were all the rage in the mid-to-late 1970s. (i.e. The Longest Yard, Semi-Tough, North Dallas Forty, Two-Minute Warning and the best of the lot, John Frankenheimer's Black Sunday.)
The
late great David Janssen, best known for The Fugitive on TV, stars as
Mike Shelley, the general manager of the Cougars, the football team that
everyone wants to win – except for a few. Cue sinister music! Dave Walecki (Ken
Howard of TV’s The White Shadow) suffers from a bad knee, probably
because he drove it into his wife Nancy’s (Susan Howard of TV’s Petrocelli
and Dallas) chest one too-many times. Their marriage is on the rocks
because Dave’s dream is to play football and Nancy is missing the affection her
husband now shows for the sport. If he doesn’t want to lose his wife, he has to
put on his big-boy pants and grow a pair. The New York Mafia strongly
admonishes P.K. Jackson (Clifton Davis of TV’s Amen), a businessman who
once played for the Cougars, that the Cougars must lose…or else! In the midst
of all of this, Donna Mills (of TV’s Knots Landing) pretends to take a
fancy to Shelley but is clearly up to no good.
Superdome sports a supporting cast that includes
Edie Adams, Van Johnson, Ed Nelson, Jane Wyatt, and even an early role by Tom
Selleck in his pre-Magnum P.I. days. I love M. Emmet Walsh, who appears
here as well, though if you blink, you’ll miss him. The first time I ever saw
him was in the theatrical trailer for Ulu Grosbard’s 1978 outing Straight
Time wherein Dustin Hoffman just about pulls his pants down after
handcuffing him to a fence! Not a pleasant sight. He’s well known to audiences
for his role as the racist boss of Rick Deckard in Ridley Scott’s 1982 film Blade
Runner.
I
enjoyed watching Superdome for the same reason I enjoy watching adult
movies from the 1970’s: the wall-to-wall sex. Sorry, just kidding, of course. The
locales, the garish colors, the style of the automobiles, the technology of the
time, the wardrobe, the furniture, the ludicrous wallpaper designs, and the
style of the cinematography do their best to make up for the uninspired
direction and overall dearth of excitement. While no one can rightly expect a
film like this to be in the same league as an early Brian DePalma suspenser, it
would be nice if there was some suspense.
David Janssen and Donna Mills.
The
film is now available on Blu-ray from the wonderful Kino Lorber who have raised
the bar on excellent presentations of older films. The picture quality on this
film is immaculate. It has been transferred from the original 35mm negative and
it looks like the movie was just made. Framed at 1.37:1, the image is
complemented by black bars on the left and right sides of the screen to retain
the integrity of the original aspect ratio.
The
extras on this disc consist of an in-depth, feature-length audio commentary
with director Jerry Jameson and film experts Howard S. Berger and Steve
Mitchell. These historians are inexplicably overzealous discussing the origins
and making of the film, reminding me of my own excitement at seeing Heather
Locklear in NBC-TV’s City Killer…in 1984…when I was fifteen. Even
the director bemoans “what a mess this thing isâ€(!) while the film historians
wax nostalgia on how comparable the climax is to a feature film. IMHO, it’s not.
Jameson also remarks Donna Mills’ makeup job and this was nearly nine years
before her VHS release of The Eyes Have It, an instructional video on
how to apply war paint. Her character reminds me of the Rebecca Pidgeon role in
David Mamet’s 1997 film The Spanish Prisoner. All sweetness and light,
but nefarious underneath it all.
The
climax is clearly inspired by Robert Wise’s The Hindenburg (1975). If
you have a soft spot for Superdome,
then this is the release to own – how that for a tag line?
There
is also a section of trailers for Juggernaut, The Silent Partner,
Slayground, and When Eight Bells Toll, all also available from Kino Lorber.
We
hope Kino is eyeing City Killer for a Blu-ray release, as Heather
Locklear might be willing to pull herself away from Instagram for a few hours to
do a commentary track for it.
When
I first saw Popeye on the big screen on its initial release in December
of 1980, I was disappointed and a little appalled. I was (and still am) a huge
Robert Altman fan, and I had been expecting great things. The film touted the
first motion picture appearance by Robin Williams as well (although he’d had in
a small role in a 1977 picture). Anticipation was high.
Popeye
received
very mixed reviews, but it made a decent amount of money at the box office (however,
it was considered a flop by Paramount and Disney, the studio that co-produced
the picture), and became an object of derision in Hollywood for years. Altman
was unable to get big studio backing for over a decade, so he moved to Europe
and made small pictures there.
Then—home
video turned the movie around. Popeye became a best-selling VHS tape for
children, and its reputation improved. Audiences started to admit that there
were some rather good things about Popeye. Now a 40th Anniversary
Blu-ray disk from Paramount has been released, and the movie’s charms can be
appreciated even more.
There’s
no question that Popeye is a mixed bag of spinach. Altman’s directorial
style always involved much improvisation, a messy mise-en-scène, overlapping and sometimes indecipherable dialogue, and
a quirky sensibility. In Altman’s best works, these traits are assets. In Popeye,
not so much. There are also sequences that drag on too long, especially the
climactic sequence that involves a chase involving two extremely slow-moving
boats. The script, by Jules Feiffer, is also decidedly weak, but there are some
clever moments and funny lines (it’s unknown if these were ad libs).
That
said, Altman’s vision for the movie was downright brilliant, and the
designers and actors rendered that concept with remarkable success. Altman set
out to make a live-action cartoon that captured the original E. C. Segar comic
strip and the early Fleischer animated shorts. By hiring inventive actors who
could transform themselves into the surreal characters, and costuming them
appropriately, Altman accomplished the task of truly creating another world. It
also helped that the entire village of Sweethaven was built on the island of
Malta, where the production was made (that village still exists today as a
tourist attraction). The production/sets and costume designs deserved Academy
Award nominations, but that didn’t happen.
Popeye
(Williams) is searching for his “pappy†(Poopdeck Pappy, played by Ray Walston),
and he arrives by rowboat in Sweethaven. There Popeye is immediately taxed for
everything, including for asking questions, by the Taxman (Donald Moffat). He
“renks a room†from the boarding house run by the Oyl family—Cole (MacIntyre
Dixon), who continually spouts that everyone “owes him an apology,†his wife Nana
(Roberta Maxwell), Castor (Donovan Scott), their son, and, of course, Olive
(Shelley Duvall), their daughter. Olive Oyl is engaged to be married to Bluto
(Paul L. Smith), the meanest man in town and enforcer for the “Commodore,†the
unseen authoritarian of the village. Olive doesn’t want to marry Bluto, but she
makes the motions to do so. Then, Olive and Popeye find an abandoned baby—the
scene-stealing Swee’Pea (played by Wesley Ivan Hurt, who is Altman’s grandson).
Olive and Popeye bond over Swee’Pea, and the story then becomes one of Popeye
attempting to win over the villagers, defeat Bluto, discover the identity of
the mysterious Commodore, and find his pappy.
Robin
Williams does an admirable job and is quite winning in the role, although his
mumblings and mutterings, ad libbed or not, are often unintelligible (it helps
to turn on the subtitles on the Blu-ray disk—something we couldn’t do in the
cinema in 1980!). The standout in the entire movie is Shelley Duvall—as Altman
proclaims in the “making of†documentary on the disk, Duvall was “born to play
Olive Oyl,†and this statement is absolutely correct. It was a great year for
Duvall, who had earlier starred in Kubrick’s The Shining. These were two
wildly different roles. Her Olive Oyl serves to prove that Shelley Duvall is an
underrated, wonderful actress who should have been recognized as a major talent.
Smith
as Bluto is appropriately villainous. Walston is a hoot as Pappy. Paul Dooley
is perfectly cast as Wimpy, who insists he will pay you Tuesday for a hamburger
today. The real gems, however, are the extras in the village portrayed by
circus performers, acrobats, and clowns who can perform jaw-dropping physical
stunts. The great Bill Irwin especially shines as Ham Gravy, who is constantly
kicking his hat along the paths, unable to retrieve it.
Then
there is the music. Yes, Popeye is a musical. The songs were written by
Harry Nilsson (!) and arranged and conducted by the talented Van Dyke Parks. They
are performed by the non-singer actors. There is a certain charm to them, but
the songs are rather weak and unmemorable. In 1980, I felt that the music was
what sunk the ship—however, on the recent revisit, I found the songs
appropriately eccentric and fitting. Beatles fans alert—look for Klaus Voorman
(collaborator with the Fab Four in the 1960s) as the conductor of the onscreen
band.
Paramount’s
new Blu-ray sports a beautiful restoration that looks fantastic.
Supplements include an interesting behind-the-scenes documentary on the making
of the film; a featurette on the different players and their approaches to the characterizations;
a slideshow from the film’s Hollywood premiere (spot the celebrities on the red
carpet!); and the ability to play each song from the movie separately. The late
Robert Altman and late Robin Williams appear in interviews shot in 1999 and
2014, respectively.
Popeye
is worth
a return visit, certainly for Shelley Duvall and little Wesley Ivan Hurt. There
are genuine laughs to be had, and the movie is a curiosity that isn’t nearly so
bad as the picture was first made out to be. It’s got charm and wit and is a
visual delight. So, go holler, “Blow me down,†have some spinach, and enjoy.
(The Blu-ray also includes a digital download version.)
There something about Christmas that inspires bad movies from many nations and Mexico is no exception as evidenced by this infamous 1959 film about Santa Claus that has to be seen to be believed. Part fantasy, part horror flick, part sci-fi, this gem from South of the Border is rivaled only by "Santa Claus Conquers the Martians" in terms of providing inspiration to "Mystery Science Theater". Here Santa has to contend with some irredeemable rotten kids and a villain who looks like he just got back from playing Satan at an office party that went very badly. Santa's sleigh is also hi-tech, as though it were outfitted with gadgets from Q Branch. Small wonder it has achieved immortality among bad retro movie lovers worldwide. - Lee Pfeiffer
Cinema Retro has received the following press release:
Diana Ross Stars in the Original
Drama, Arriving February 23, 2021
See
It on Blu-ray Before the Debut of the Highly Anticipated New Film The United
States vs. Billie Holiday
Diana Ross gives
a tour-de-force debut performance as legendary singer Billie Holiday in the
classic drama LADY SINGS THE BLUES, arriving on Blu-ray for the
first time ever February 23, 2021 from Paramount Home Entertainment.
Nominated for
five* Academy Awards®, including Best Actress in a Leading Role for
Ross, LADY SINGS THE BLUES brilliantly captures the essence of
Billie Holiday, one of America’s most loved and memorable blues singers.
Filled with the greatest songs of the incomparable "Lady Day," the
film won Image Awards for Best Motion Picture, Best Actress (Ross) and Best
Actor (Billy Dee Williams), as well as a Golden Globe® for Ross as the year’s
Most Promising Newcomer – Female. Richard Pryor also stars as the
unforgettable “Piano Man.â€
The LADY
SINGS THE BLUES Blu-ray includes the following previously released
bonus content in standard definition: commentary by executive producer
and Motown founder Berry Gordy, director Sidney Furie and artist manager Shelly
Berger, a making-of featurette entitled “Behind the Blues: Lady Sings the
Blues,†and seven deleted scenes.
The
extremely popular 1955 movie Mister Roberts began as a 1946 novel by
Thomas Heggen. It was then a Broadway play written by Heggen and Joshua Logan, directed
by Logan, and produced by Leland Hayward. Henry Fonda played the title role of
Lieutenant Doug Roberts on Broadway and won a Tony Award for Best Actor in a
Play for his performance. It then made sense for Fonda to reprise the role in
the motion picture, which was also produced by Hayward and co-scripted by Logan
and Frank S. Nugent. Sounds like a Hollywood no-brainer in the making, right?
The
direction of the film is where things got dicey. John Ford was hired to direct,
but according to Hollywood scuttlebutt accounts, Ford and James Cagney (in the unflattering
role of the captain, Lieutenant Commander Morton) did not get along. Then,
during filming Ford and his old friend Henry Fonda got into a fight. Ford left
the production and was replaced by Mervyn LeRoy. When it was all done, Joshua
Logan himself got involved and reshot some sequences, but he is uncredited.
Despite
all this confusion, Mister Roberts turned out surprisingly well as a
comedy-drama (mostly comedy). It was a box office hit and was nominated for the
Best Picture Oscar. Oddly, Fonda was not nominated; granted, his steady,
assured, and contemplative role is not a showy one for the big screen.
Instead, Jack Lemmon delivered a big colorful extroverted breakout
performance as Ensign Pulver. He was nominated and won the Best
Supporting Actor Oscar. In many ways, Lemmon’s characterization in the movie
defined many of the actor’s later roles. One can see a bit of “Ensign Pulverâ€
in almost everything Lemmon did for the next two decades. Or perhaps that’s
just Jack Lemmon.
The
excellent cast is rounded out with an aging William Powell as the ship’s
doctor, Betsy Palmer as one of the few women who briefly appear in the picture,
and shipmates Ward Bond, Ken Curtis, Nick Adams, Patrick Wayne, and other faces
one might recognize from the era.
The
Reluctant is a U.S. Navy cargo ship stuck out in the boondocks of the
Pacific as World War II is winding down. Captain Morton (Cagney) rules the boat
with an insensitive, downright mean iron hand, and every man on the ship can’t
stand him. The executive officer, “Mister†Roberts (Fonda), on the other hand,
is well-liked and a friend to the men. It’s always up to Roberts to try and
stand up to Morton, with little success. Roberts bunks with Ensign Pulver
(Lemmon), a joker and lothario who gets away with doing as little work as
possible and who yearns for shore leave so he can woo some army nurses.
Roberts’ best friend is “Doc†(Powell), who must lend an ear to Roberts’
constant wishes to transfer off the supply ship and onto a real battleship to
see some action before the war is over. The entire movie then becomes a comedy
of wills between male egos—not just between Roberts and Morton, but among
everyone else as well.
The
sexist attitudes of the men toward the few women in the picture (nurses
stationed at an army base on a nearby island) were assuredly realistic for the
years depicted and when the movie was released, but today they are a cause for
some eye-rolling. The macho testosterone-laden one-upmanship on display also gets
a little nutty, especially in Cagney’s over-the-top performance… but overall Mister
Roberts is an entertaining romp with some laughs and Hollywood star power.
Warner
Archive’s Blu-ray release is a restoration of a previous DVD edition and looks
quite good—the problems come in some of Winton C. Hoch’s original
cinematography (in CinemaScope and “WarnerColorâ€!). There are several
foreground/background focus issues throughout the movie, but perhaps filmmakers
were just becoming accustomed to the widescreen format in those days. The
feature film comes with scene-specific audio commentary by Jack Lemmon himself.
There are no other supplements save the theatrical trailer.
Mister
Roberts still
holds up—just—as a good example of the kind of Hollywood fare in the 1950s that
attempted to look back at the world war with humor and nostalgia instead of
with sobriety or horror. The new Blu-ray is certainly for fans of Henry Fonda,
Jack Lemmon, and widescreen wartime antics.
They say that politics makes for strange bedfellows. Apparently, that adage also applies to the espionage trade as well. The Hollywood Reporter reveals that James Bond will be inducted into Spectre by his arch nemesis Ernst Stavro Blofeld in the forthcoming comic book series "James Bond: Agent of Spectre", which will be released by Dynamite Entertainment in March. The series will be written by Marvel writer Christos Gage and illustrated by Luca Casalanguida, with covers created by Steve Epting. For more, click here.
Dave Worrall chronicles the challenges of bringing Cleopatra to the big screen in a 14 page Film in Focus feature loaded with rare photos.
John Harty looks at the ambitious but disastrous Soviet/Italian co-production of "The Red Tent" starring Sean Connery, Claudia Cardinale and Peter Finch
Terence Denman rides tall in the saddle with his story behind "The Savage Guns", the only Western ever made by Hammer Films
Dave Worrall and Lee Pfeiffer unveil the secrets of "Ice Station Zebra" starring Rock Hudson, Ernest Borgnine, Patrick McGoohan and Jim Brown
Rare original U.S. drive-in movie theater adverts
Brian Davidson's exclusive interview with David McGillivray (aka McG), screenwriter of 1970s horror flicks and looks back at "Hoffman", the bizarre film that Peter Sellers wanted destroyed.
Nicholas Anez examines the underrated thriller "The Night Visitor" starring Max Von Sydow, Liv Ullmann, Per Oscarsson and Trevor Howard
Plus regular columns by Raymond Benson, Darren Allison and Gareth Owen
Peter Lamont interviewed by Gareth Owen at a celebration of his career at Pinewood Studios, 2016. (Photo: Mark Mawston).
We at Cinema Retro mourn the passing of our good friend Peter Lamont, the legendary Production Designer of many James Bond films as well as "Titanic", for which he received the Academy Award. CR columnist and author Gareth Owen reflects on Peter's life and career.
By Gareth Owen
British Oscar winning(and four-time nominee) Production Designer
Peter Lamont passed away on December 18th aged 91 after suffering
complications from pneumonia.
Having seen his name on the silver screen
throughout my formative years on films such as The Seven Percent Solution,
Sleuth, Fiddler On The Roof, and of course pretty much every James Bond
film, I first met Peter in 1990 at Pinewood Studios and was immediately struck
by his friendliness, charm and modesty. I bumped into him on the lot many times
in following years, and no matter how busy or pressured he was Peter always
made time to have a little chat, and to enthuse about his latest film and some
of the challenges he’d overcome.
Living nearby, in the mid 1940s, Peter
started his career at Pinewood Studios as a runner and after breaking for two
years for National Service in the Royal Air Force, he returned to Pinewood as a
junior draughtsman on films such as Captain Boycott (1950), The
Browning Version (1951), Hotel Sahara (1951), The Importance of
Being Earnest (1952) and The Seekers (1954). His talent, easy-going
demeanour and ability to keep a cool head in a crisis endeared him to many of
the days leading Production Designers of the day including Alex Vetchinsky and
Maurice Carter.
He then came on to the radar of Ken Adam who,
in 1964, asked Peter to join the art department of Goldfinger to help
recreate Fort Knox on the Pinewood backlot.
"I drew it all up and made a
model," he recalled, "and I remember [director] Guy Hamilton and
[producers] Cubby [Broccoli] and Harry [Saltzman] came up and they looked at it
and said, 'Well, let's get an estimate of how much it's going to cost.' And I
almost fell through the roof because the estimate was for £56,000 … I thought,
'Oh God, I'm going to get fired for this.' But nobody turned a hair."
Peter stayed with the Bond family until his
retirement in 2006 and graduated to Set Dresser, Assistant Art Director, Art
Director and – in 1981 – Production Designer, which was a position he kept
through Casino Royale (2006). Though he did actually miss one Bond
assignment (Tomorrow Never Dies in 197) due to being “on a sinking shipâ€
– namely, James Cameron’s Titanic (1997); a film which finally brought
him a much deserved Oscar win. His other nominations were for Fiddler on the
Roof (1971), The Spy Who Loved Me (1977) and Aliens (1986).
Peter was a great ambassador for the Bond
films and whilst his retirement probably came one film too early, he always
spoke with great pride about his association with the series and regularly
attended our Bondstars gatherings at Pinewood where he eagerly chatted with
fans and entertained everyone with stories of his adventures. I developed a closer
friendship with Peter often joining him and some of his art department
colleagues on a Thursday lunchtime at the White Horse pub near the studios for
a lunch, or his favourite Italian restaurant just around the corner from his
home in Farnham Common. They were always jolly affairs and conversation around
the table included anything from what was on TV the day before, the latest
advances in technology and science, to memories of far flung locations many
decades earlier – Peter’s recall and memory for detail was always astounding.
Lamont with Cinema Retro Lifetime Achievement Award, presented to him at Pinewood Studios in 2016. (L to R: Cinema Retro publishers Lee Pfeiffer, Dave Worrall and contributing writer Matthew Field.) (Photo: Mark Mawston.)
Having sadly lost his wife Ann six years ago,
Peter was surrounded by his family, son Neil and daughter Madeline with their
children and was very proud to have two great-grandchildren. He was also a
great friend to, and of, many.
Upon hearing of Peter’s death, Eon
Productions issued a press release:
"Peter Lamont was a much beloved member
of the Bond family and a giant in the industry, inextricably linked with the
design and aesthetic of James Bond since Goldfinger. He became Production
Designer on For Your Eyes Only (1981) working on 18 of the 25 films
including nine as Production Designer. He was a true success story proving that
with talent and hard work you will achieve your dreams.
Our hearts go out to his family and all those
who worked with him over many years. He will be very sorely missed."
Among Peter’s other notable films outside of
007 were: This Sporting Life (1963), The Ipcress File (1965), Chitty
Chitty Bang Bang (1968), The Boys From Brazil (1978), and True
Lies (1994).
Though never mentioned publicly, Peter did
sometimes feel his contribution to the film industry was overshadowed by his
frequent collaborator Ken Adam - but rest assured, his legacy is a rich and
unique one in itself and will continue through his children and grandchildren
who have followed in his footsteps.
Fritz
Lang, who emigrated to Hollywood in the 1930s after escaping Nazi Germany,
enjoyed a long and productive career in the U.S. He was, of course, one of
Germany’s preeminent filmmakers in the silent era, having made such dark and
cynical masterpieces as Dr. Mabuse—the Gambler (1922) and Metropolis (1927),
and the brilliant sound picture, M (1931). In Hollywood, Lang was adept
at many genres, but his films noir stand out. His crime pictures are
among the best in this movement that begin in the early 1940s and ran until the
late 1950s.
Some
film noir fans might consider The Woman in the Window to be astonishingly
similar to Lang’s next picture, Scarlet Street (1945). Both movies star
Edward G. Robinson, Joan Bennett, and Dan Duryea, they both begin with the
protagonist being struck by the beauty of a woman’s painting in a shop window,
and the plots involve an older, married man who is infatuated with a younger, perhaps
manipulative femme fatale. The comparisons end there, though. The
unfolding of the stories in each picture are quite different, and The Woman
in the Window ultimately has a much happier wrap-up than ScarletStreet.
Robinson
is Professor Wanley, a respected teacher who frequents a club where he and his
friends, District Attorney Lalor (Raymond Massey) and Dr. Barkstane (Edmund
Breon), enjoy drinks and gossip. Wanley’s wife and children are away. The three
men have all noticed the painting of a beautiful woman in the window of the
shop next door to the club, especially Wanley, and they muse on the woes of
“middle-age†(what we today call a “mid-life crisisâ€). One night, after Lalor
and Barkstane have left the club, Wanley wanders out to the street to gaze at
the painting again. Lo and behold, the model, a young woman named Alice Reed
(Joan Bennett) appears and strikes up a conversation. Wanley is all too
vulnerable to accept an invitation from Alice to see more paintings at her
apartment. While there, another man shows up, is angered by Wanley’s presence,
and the two men get into a fight. Wanley is forced to kill the man in
self-defense. Then things go the way of a Coen Brothers movie if one had been
made in the 40s. Wanley and Reed concoct a rather hairbrained scheme to get rid
of the body and cover up the incident. Enter the dead man’s bodyguard, Heidt
(Dan Duryea), who attempts to blackmail Reed.
There
are twists and turns and even some humor thrown in as Wanley begins to count
all the mistakes he and Reed have made to cover up the crime. The suspense builds
in waiting for the hammer to fall… or does it?
Kino
Lorber’s new Blu-ray release of this unusually rare title is a welcome
acquisition. The restoration looks terrific, and it comes with an audio
commentary by film historian Imogen Sara Smith, along with the trailers for
this and other Kino Lorber releases.
The
Woman in the Window is
a must-have for fans of film noir, director Fritz Lang, and the
charismatic cast members. Edward G. Robinson, especially, seems to have infrequently
received recognition for his professionalism and talent. Recommended.
Cinema Retro has received the following press release:
New
York, NY -- November 30, 2020 --MAD MAX, the original 1979
action film classic directed by George Miller, is now available on 4K UHD and
Blu-ray from Kino Lorber Studio Classics. This post-apocalyptic thriller made
Mel Gibson an international superstar, re-defined the action genre with its
groundbreaking stunts and launched the hit sequels including The Road
Warrior, Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome, and Mad Max: Fury Road.
The
SRP for the 4K UHD edition is $39.95. Bonus features include: Audio Commentary
with Art Director Jon Dowding, Cinematographer David Eggby, Special Effects
Artist Chris Murray, Moderated by Filmmaker Tim Ridge, Australian 5.1 Surround
& 2.0 Lossless Mono, U.S. English Dubbed 2.0 Lossless Mono, Dual-Layered
UHD100 Disc, and Optional English Subtitles.
The
4K edition also contains the Blu-ray as disc 2. Bonus features on the Blu-ray
include: Road Rage: NEW Interview with Director George Miller, Interviews with
Stars Mel Gibson & Joanne Samuel and Cinematographer David Eggby, Audio
Commentary with Art Director Jon Dowding, Cinematographer David Eggby, Special
Effects Artist Chris Murray, Moderated by Filmmaker Tim Ridge, Mel Gibson:
Birth of a Superstar, Mad Max: The Film Phenomenon, Theatrical Trailers, TV
Spots, TRAILERS FROM HELL with Josh Olson
Radio
Spots, Australian 5.1 Surround & 2.0 Lossless Mono, U.S. English Dubbed
2.0, Lossless Mono, and Optional English Subtitles.
The
Blu-ray edition is also available individually with a SRP of $29.95.
From
George Miller, the acclaimed director of The Road Warrior, The
Witches of Eastwick, Lorenzo’s Oil and Mad Max: Fury Road,
comes this post-apocalyptic masterpiece starring screen legend Mel Gibson (Lethal
Weapon, Braveheart, Payback). In the ravaged near-future, a
savage motorcycle gang rules the road. Terrorizing innocent civilians while
tearing up the streets, the ruthless gang laughs in the face of a police force
hell-bent on stopping them. But they underestimate one officer: Max (Gibson).
And when the bikers brutalize Max’s best friend and family, they send him into
a mad frenzy that leaves him with only one thing left in the world to live
for—revenge!
Business isn’t exactly booming for private
detective Peter Joseph Detweiler, better known as P.J. His makeshift office is
in a bar belonging to his only friend Charlie. His sporadic jobs include
entrapping cheating wives and he is not above drowning his sorrows in liquor. So
when wealthy magnate William Orbison offers him a substantial fee to be a
bodyguard for his mistress, Maureen Prebble, he is in no position to refuse. What
P.J. doesn’t know is that Orbison has already hired someone else to commit a
murder. How this murder and the shamus’s new job intersect is the crux of the
terrific 1968 neo-noir from Universal, P.J.
(U.K. title: New Face in Hell.)
Private detectives were prominent in the late
1960s and included Harper (1966), Tony Rome (1967), Gunn (1967), and Marlowe (1969).
P.J. appeared in the midst of this
surplus, which may account in part for its box office failure. The movie quickly
disappeared, at least in its original form. Due to one extended and bloody
sequence in a gay bar as well as to other scenes of violence and sexuality,
Universal drastically cut and re-edited the movie for its television network
presentation. For decades afterward and until just recently, the original
version of the movie was never officially released on home video; only inferior
bootleg copies of murky prints were available and even some of these were the
edited television version.
Philip Reisman, Jr.’s screenplay is based on
his original story co-written with producer Edward Montagne. The script initially
unfolds as a conventional mystery but gets increasingly complicated with each
twist and turn. Maureen appears to definitely need a bodyguard, in view of threatening
letters as well as a shot fired into her bedroom. And there is no shortage of
suspects who would like to see her dead. Orbison’s emotionally fragile wife,
Betty, tries to pretend that her husband’s paramour doesn’t exist. Betty’s relatives
despise Maureen because of her emergence as principle beneficiary in Orbison’s
will. Orbison’s Executive Assistant, Jason Grenoble, due to his apparent
affluent upbringing, is displeased about being used as a flunky. Making P.J.’s job
more difficult is Orbison’s decision to take everyone, including relatives and mistress,
to his hideaway in the Caribbean island of St. Crispin’s. And it is in this
tropical setting that P.J. is forced to kill a suspect. This seems to be the
end of the case. But it is really only the end of the second act. The third act
is filled with intrigue, deception, blackmail and three brutal deaths.
John Guillermin is an underappreciated
director who created admirable films in many genres, including mystery, adventure,
war and western as well as the disaster and monster genres. His success could
perhaps be due not only to his skill but to a style that is unobtrusive. He
directs P.J. in a straightforward
fashion, not allowing any directorial flourishes to interrupt the flow of the
story. With cinematographer Loyal Griggs, he cleverly contrasts the seedy
sections of New York City with the natural beauty of St. Crispin’s. However,
this beauty is soon tainted by the presence of Orbison, whose wealth the
island’s economy requires to flourish. Guillermin allows each of the characters
within Orbison’s band of sycophants enough screen time to make an impact.
Basically, they all appear to be self-centered, greedy and nasty. Orbison is
especially sadistic, in addition to being notoriously miserly. Maureen doesn’t
apologize for providing sexual favors in exchange for future wealth. Betty is
willing to be repeatedly humiliated to obtain her customary allowance. Grenoble
continually demeans himself to keep his well-paid position. And then there is butler
Shelton Quell, who is not as harmless as his effeminate mannerisms suggest. This
is a sordid group of characters that P.J. is involved with but his dire
financial state has apparently extinguished his conscience, particularly since
he soon becomes intimately involved with the body that he is guarding. P.J.’s
essential irony arises from the fact that he is equally greedy, at least
initially. He also seems to be morally bankrupt. When he encounters Orbison
leaving Maureen’s cottage, it doesn’t faze him that they have just engaged in a
quickie. P.J. knows that he has sold his gun to Orbison just as Maureen has
sold her body.
In the early 1960s, George Peppard became a
major star in expensive films such as and How
the West Was Won (1962) and The
Carpetbaggers (1964). In 1966, he
starred in another big-budget film, The
Blue Max, the first of three movies he would make with John Guillermin. In
the late 1960s and early 1970s, he starred in several smaller-budgeted movies.
While some of them, especially Pendulum,
The Groundstar Conspiracy and Newman’s Law are exceptional, others are
unremarkable. The commercial failure of these movies diminished his status and relegated
him to supporting roles and television. This was regrettable because he had
genuine star quality as well as considerable talent. However, he made a
well-deserved comeback by achieving massive popularity as the star of the hit
television series, The A-Team, and
his small screen success is a worthy consolation prize.
As P.J. Detweiler, Peppard creates a unique
private eye that puts him apart from his cinematic brethren. P.J. initially appears
disillusioned with his life and work. Like many film noir protagonists, he is one
of society’s alienated outcasts. He is not just down and out but seems resigned
to his dismal situation. When he is offered the lucrative position of
bodyguard, he is so destitute that he agrees to a humiliating audition of fisticuffs.
As he begins his job, he appears impassive to the decadence of Orbison’s
environment. However, after he has been duped and discarded, he asserts himself
and becomes a traditional detective who is determined to pursue clues and solve
the mystery. But unlike traditional detectives, he doesn’t derive any pleasure
from the solution to the crime. The fact that he has been maneuvered into
facilitating a murder has emotionally drained him. At the end of the film, he forces
a cheerless smile at Charlie but he is unable to sustain it, replacing it
quickly with a look of despair. All of these emotions are reflected in
Peppard’s superb portrayal.
As William Orbison, Raymond Burr splendidly returned
to the villainous roles that he had portrayed in previous decades before
becoming a household name on television as lawyer Perry Mason, a role he played
for nine years. P.J. was released six
months after Burr started his second successful series as police chief
Ironside, a role he would portray for eight years. Audiences who were
accustomed to seeing him embody honorable characters must have been shocked to view
his malevolent Orbison. Though he projects a sophisticated veneer for Orbison, Burr
fully evokes his perverted obsession with wealth and power through his
modulated tone and menacing visage. With his atypically silver hair and
imposing size, he conveys malignant authority. In the scene in which Orbison
brings his wife and mistress together, the actor’s expression of merciless pleasure
invites unmitigated contempt. Burr’s Orbison deserves an honored position among
noir’s loathsome villains. (Incidentally, in advertisements for the movie,
Burr’s name is below Gayle Hunnicutt’s name but in the movie itself Burr’s name
precedes Hunnicutt’s.)
“The Rat Pack? Hasn’t that topic
been done to death?â€
That
is the question I was asked by some skeptical fellow writers when I mentioned I
was working with author Lon Davis on Deconstructing
the Rat Pack, our new book, published by Prestige Cinema Press.
It’s
true: there have been a stack of books on the myth that surrounds Rat Pack
members Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr., Joey Bishop, and Peter
Lawford. But the fact is, myths are what have most often been printed. It
reminds me of the line in The Man Who
Shot Liberty Valance: “When the legend becomes fact, print the
legend.†Lon and I subscribe to a different belief: print the facts. PR reports
of the time will lead one to believe that the Rat Pack came about organically,
that their onstage hijinks and wisecracks were off the cuff, that these
middle-aged men were basically superhuman, carousing all night with whatever
broads they summoned to their rooms. The truth differs.
The
Rat Pack has more to do with the history of our nation—as well as the history
of entertainment—than even their staunchest fans might realize. It started in
the late fifties. Frank Sinatra was already the Chairman of the Board, the most
influential popular singer of his time. Dean Martin, recently estranged from
his high-octane comic partner Jerry Lewis, was making his mark as a solo nightclub
performer and movie actor. Sammy Davis Jr., a multi-talented phenom, had just
made a stunning comeback following an automobile accident which resulted in his
losing an eye. Joey Bishop, a veteran nightclub comic, was coming into his own
as a witty guest on the mega-popular Tonight Show starring Jack Paar. Teaming
these performers was the idea of Al Freeman, the director and promoter at the
Sands Hotel. He believed that featuring this new act, known informally as the Clan,
and later, as the Rat Pack, with the help of the biggest publicity machine in
the history of show business, for thirty consecutive nights in Las Vegas in
February 1960 (while making a hit heist movie called Ocean’s 11 during
daylight hours), would put this desert town on the map. And it did, big time. That
Las Vegas today is the glittering entertainment capital of the world owes much
of its success to that month of unforgettable, widely publicized performances,
known officially as The Summit.
History
has always been my passion, and in gleaning the facts of an event in recent
times it is important to me to learn about it from the surviving participants.
In the mid-1970s, when I was still in my teens, I began to seek out and
interview countless individuals who were in some way associated with show
business. One of the eighty-five celebrities interviewed for this book was bona
fide Rat Pack member Joey Bishop, the self-described “glue that held the act
together.†By the time I knew him, he was an embittered man in his eighties,
living an isolated existence on Lido Island in Newport Beach, California. It is
Joey’s unique, and heretofore little-known, perspective on which Lon and I have
based our book. Granted, talking with Joey about the Rat Pack was always a slippery
slope: he felt, justifiably, that his association with the group overshadowed
every other aspect of his career. But who can compete with, or ignore, a legend?
For that’s what the Rat Pack has become. So much so that sixty years after the
Summit, there are tribute acts in casinos around the globe, with actors personifying
Frank, Dean, Sammy, and Joey. Of course, whether the act deserves to be
emulated in these more progressive times is a matter of debate. The collective
reputation of the Rat Pack is that of macho, hard-drinking, cigarette-smoking, skirt-chasing
entertainers who glorified misogyny.
It
was the mob that used these well-compensated song-and-dance men to establish Las
Vegas as the world’s leading den of vice. I talked to many of these "wise guys"
as well, some of whom were members of my own family. My cousin Carl Cohen was
the six-foot-five-inch-tall manager of the Sands who stopped a fractious Frank
Sinatra, a 9 percent owner of the hotel, from wreaking havoc in the lobby with
a fist to the mouth, knocking the caps right off his teeth. Moe Dalitz, another
relative, proudly told me how he had looked out for Joey Bishop, whom he
considered to be “a good family man.†Although it has always been Frank Sinatra
who is linked to the mob, Bishop is the only member of the group to serve as a
witness for the defense of Mickey Cohen when the notorious gangster was accused of murder. Max
Diamond, yet another gangster who foresaw the possibilities of Sin City, worked
for my family for twenty years after retiring from the rackets.
Fans
of the Rat Pack have often wondered how Peter Lawford, a rather colorless movie
actor from the 1940s, could share the stage with the likes of the dynamic Sinatra,
Martin, and Davis. The answer has more to do with the family he married into
than his modest talents. His brother-in-law was John F. Kennedy, the
charismatic, youthful senator who was being groomed for the presidency by his
father, star-maker Joseph Kennedy. Frank Sinatra, a man drawn to power,
welcomed JFK into his orbit, even temporarily rechristening the group “The Jack
Pack.†Attracting the country’s younger voters who preferred the good-looking
senator to the stodgy Republican candidate Richard Nixon, the endorsement of
the coolest group in the known world helped significantly in landing JFK in the
White House. The mob was at first delighted by his election, believing they would
get a pass to go about their business. They had no way of knowing that JFK’s
younger brother, Robert Kennedy, who was appointed Attorney General, would
become their worst nightmare. When JFK turned his back on the Rat Pack, Sinatra
turned his back on Lawford. Joey would also lose the Chairman’s favor, although
for a different kind of betrayal.
The story of the Rat Pack has many twists and
turns. But don’t take our word for it. Read the book and see for yourself.
You’ll be glad we chose not to print the legend.
Michael
Dudikoff leads a military-themed double feature in “Platoon Leader†and
“Soldier Boyz,†released on Blu-ray by Kino Lorber. The first is a standard
“Rio Bravo†knock off taking place during the Vietnam War. A recent West Point
graduate arrives in Vietnam and is assigned to command and defend a jungle
outpost. “Soldier Boyz†is the story of a former Marine working with inner city
youths who are serving time and are recruited to join him on a mission to free
an aid worker held hostage by a Vietnamese warlord. “Platoon Leader†is a
standard military action drama, while “Soldier Boyz†is a rescue tale which
takes place several decades after the end of the Vietnam War. While both movies
are set primarily in Vietnam and they both feature Dudikoff, that’s about as
far as the similarities go.
“Platoon
Leader†is reminiscent of other Vietnam War movies from the same era like “Go
Tell the Spartans†(1978), “The Odd Angry Shot†(1979) and “The Siege of
Firebase Gloria†(1989) which was in production around the same time as
“Platoon Leader, but released three months later. They all borrow plot elements
from “Rio Bravo†and its many remakes like John Carpenter’s “Assault on
Precinct 13.†While the story is familiar, most of the faces are new. Michael
Dudikoff was cast as a B movie action star throughout the 80s and continues to
feature in B movie fare to this day. In “Platoon Leader†he’s a fresh West
Point graduate, Lieutenant Jeff Knight. Deployed to the jungles of Binh Dinh
province, Vietnam, Knight has his textbook battle strategies in hand. The men
view the new lieutenant with skepticism as is the familiar trope in this
situation. The men are seasoned veterans and Knight is the guy likely to get
them all killed. After a routine jungle patrol, Knight is wounded in the
ensuing battle and sent to an Army hospital. His return to the outpost is
enough to gain the respect from his men who thought they’d seen the last of
him. There’s a funny scene when he returns to find his belongings in his
quarters are being pillaged by his men.
The
men of the platoon include Robert F. Lyons as Sergeant Michael McNamara, the
seasoned veteran and enlisted leader who wants to get everyone home alive.
Michael DeLorenzo is Raymond Bacera and Jesse Dabsn is Joshua Parker, two of
the junior enlisted members of the platoon. Rick Fitts is Sergeant Robert Hayes,
a man possibly about to go over the edge. A welcome familiar face to the movie
is character actor William Smith as Major Flynn, Knight’s commanding officer.
Based
on the book by James R. McDonough and directed by Aaron Norris, the youngest
brother of Chuck Norris. The younger Norris directed his brother in several
movies and in a handful of “Walker Texas Ranger†episodes. He also worked with
Chuck in other capacities such as stunt coordinator and producer. A Vietnam War
Army veteran, he brings a knowing edge to “Platoon Leader.†Filmed on location
in South Africa, the country is a pretty good stand in for Vietnam.
“Soldier
Boyz†is an entirely different type of action film and is a knockoff of “The
Dirty Dozen†and a play on the title “Boyz in the Hood.†Rather than “men on an
impossible mission,†it’s more like, “children on an improbable mission.†The basic
premise of “Soldier Boyz†is absurd: six street wise inner city boys and one
girl serving time in a California juvenile detention center are recruited by a
former Marine and Vietnam veteran to lead a rescue of an aid worker who has
been taken hostage in Vietnam. Disneyland with guns for these boyz in the
jungle.
Michael
Dudikoff is the former Marine and Vietnam veteran, Major Howard Toliver, who
now works in the juvenile detention center as a counselor. A former Marine general
sporting an eye patch and black beret along with a wealthy business man,
recruit Toliver for a mission to rescue the wealthy man’s daughter, a United
Nations relief worker, who is being held hostage after the aircraft she’s a
passenger on crash lands and she’s taken to a prison camp run by a vicious red
beret-wearing military war lord. Toliver is asked to form a team and he comes
up with the idea to use juvenile prisoners. If they survive, they’ll receive a
presidential pardon and $10 million will be donated to the California Youth Services.
Chained together on the flight to Vietnam, they receive an all-too-brief basic
training which takes place in one day after landing where they learn the basic skills
necessary to fight and kill the bad guys as well as how to rescue the relief worker.
They learn to work together as a team, sort of, and one wonders why these streetwise
youths don’t simply run off. It’s never explained how the juvenile system would
allow such a venture. Nor is it explained how they made it through the jungles
of Vietnam on a commando mission with next to no military training. Ah, the joys
of suspending disbelief. At least the action finale destruction of the prison
camp is well-staged with plenty of explosions.
Directed
by Louis Morneau, probably best known for the 1997 sci-fi time travel movie,
“Retroactive†and the 1999 thriller, “Made Men;†with a screenplay by Darryl
Quarles, the movie does an okay job blending genres. Filmed on location in the
Philippines, the movie features a few familiar faces. Hank Brandt is Jameson
Prescott, the wealthy father of the kidnapped aid worker. He is recognizable
from his decades of work on television. Retro movie fans will recognize Don
Stroud as General Gaton who recruits Toliver. He appeared as tough guys in too
many movies to list here. Character actor Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa is the other
face you will recognize and he plays the warlord Vinh Moc. Nicole Hansen is the
kidnapped relief worker Gabrielle Prescott.
The
soldier boyz of the title are played by a half dozen up-and-coming actors who
continue to be busy in the movie industry to this day. Tyrin Turner is Butts, Jacqueline
Obradors is Vasquez, David Barry is Gray Lamb, Channon Roe is Brophy, Demetrius
Navarro is Lopez and Cedrick Terrell is Michael “Monster†Greer. They portray
all the urban stereotypes we are familiar with from countless movies and television
series including “Boyz in the Hood†from 1991. I wish I could say this isn’t a
bad movie, but I’d be lying. It has its moments during the final rescue, but it
required too much suspending of disbelief for me and I felt nothing for any of
the characters.
Released
by Canon in October 1988, “Platoon Leader†clocks in at 97 minutes. “Soldier
Boyz†is a 1995 production (it may have been released direct to video) and runs
90 minutes. That’s just over three hours of entertainment on one disc. That’s
assuming you enjoy B movies and can suspend serious disbelief during the second
feature. The Blu-ray sounds and looks terrific. The only extras on the disc are
subtitles and a multitude of trailers for these and several Michael Dudikoff
and Aaron Norris action movies.
Of all the movie streaming services, I find that Amazon Prime is a cut above the others, if only because of its vast catalog of obscure films from the 1960s and 1970s, which, of course, is the main area of focus for Cinema Retro magazine. Browse at random or enter any star's name from this era, and you'll probably be rewarded by discovering a title or two you are not familiar with. Case in point: "Male Rogue" starring Peter O'Toole, a 1976 British production for television that was made on a modest budget and resonated very well with audiences and critics. It was briefly released to theaters but withdrawn due to union disputes over compensation for the theatrical showings. I must confess that I was completely ignorant of the title, despite being conversant in O'Toole's often underrated films and having spent a good deal of time in the UK. In any event, I found it to be one of the best among O'Toole's checkered career accomplishments. He made plenty of commercial duds but that doesn't mean they didn't have artistic merits.
The production is an adaptation of a bestelling novel by Geoffrey Household that had been filmed once before in 1941 under the title "Man Hunt". The story begins in the pre-WWII period of 1939, when Britain still had diplomatic relations with Germany, as Neville Chamberlain continued futile attempts to avert war and make good on his promise that his 1936 treaty with the Nazi government would indeed bring "Peace in our time." The teleplay grabs you from the first intriguing frames. O'Toole plays the appropriately named Sir Robert Hunter, who is known for being a world famous big game hunter who has written the definitive book on the subject. When we first see him, he is sneaking about in the woods near Adolf Hitler's rural retreat. The Fuhrer is playing host to Eva Braun and some of his Nazi paladins for a sumptuous outdoor lunch. Hunter produces a rifle and has Hitler in his sites when his attempted assassination is thwarted by alert security men. He is mercilessly tortured by the Gestapo, who want him to admit that the British government is behind his actions, which would be a pretext for blaming England for an outbreak of war. Hunter manages to effect an incredible escape and makes it back to London- but he is far from safe. His uncle (Alastair Sim in his last film) is an influential MP but he can't provide much help. In fact, he warns Hunter that the British are likely to arrest him and turn him over to German authorities to prove he acted alone. With plenty of money but no allies to rely on, Hunter realizes that German agents in London have marked him for death. He thwarts an assassination attempt, leaving his would-be killer dead and takes off to the bucolic setting of Dorset on the southern coast, but he finds he is being pursued by other German agents as well as British authorities who now consider him to be a murderer.
Much of the engaging screenplay by Frederic Raphael follows the unflappable and ever self-reliant Hunter's narrow escapes and his abilities to use his game hunting skills to survive in dire circumstances. The final section of the film finds him literally living in a hole in the ground in the deep woods, which he has fashioned into a crude survival shelter. It works until it doesn't work and he is located by Major Quive-Smith (John Standing), a racist British "patriot" who favors appeasing Hitler to ensure that both countries can avoid a war he believes will be started by Jews. It may sound implausible to say that extended screen time devoted to a man above ground taunting a man hiding underground makes for compelling viewing, but Standing is terrific as one of those great screen villains: urbane, witty and charismatic. He offers Hunter a deal: he can sign a letter attesting that the British government sent him to kill Hitler. It will only be used if war breaks out so the Germans can blame the British. The cat-and-mouse game never reaches the level of nail-biting suspense, but under the excellent direction of Clive Donner, the film is gripping and believable throughout, thanks in no small part to O'Toole's outstanding performance.
Although "Rogue Male" has been released in a hi-def Blu-ray edition by the British Film Institute, the Amazon print obviously derives from one of the bargain basement "dollar store" videos that had apparently been on the market for years. Consequently, it's a muddy transfer that doesn't do justice to the spectacular Dorset settings. Adding insult to injury, a promotional trailer for the film is presented in Hi Def, which only whets the appetite for a better viewing experience. Nevertheless, beggars can't be choosers and "Rogue Male" is a superior thriller well worth watching, muddy transfer not withstanding. (Look for noted playwright Harold Pinter in cameo role.)
The recent decision by Warner Bros. to backtrack on their vow to release major new films exclusively in theaters per the normal practice has caused widespread concerns in the industry. The studio recently announced that their slate of eagerly-anticipated blockbuster titles will premiere on their struggling streaming service HBO Max at the same time they will appear in theaters. Everyone from directors to stars to beleaguered movie theaters that have been starved for product since the pandemic hit have been united in their opposition to the plan. Their concerns are obvious: a world that has embraced streaming may forsake the traditional movie-going experience, thus jeopardizing the financial ability of theaters to survive. Click here to read the Washington Post's coverage.
At
least three companies have been doing restorations of Buster Keaton’s silent
comedy classics from the 1920s—Kino Video is one, The Criterion Collection is
another. As the films are in public domain, the separate restorations can now
be copyrighted. A third entity, Cohen Film Collection, has also been re-issuing
the films in high definition. Cohen just released its fourth volume in their
ongoing series, and to this reviewer, the company is doing an outstanding job.
Volume
4 of “The Buster Keaton Collection†contains 4K restorations of Go West (1925)
and College (1927). Most critics and fans will agree that these two
titles may be the lesser of Keaton’s outstanding output of the era (Cohen
released the more acclaimed pictures such as The General, Steamboat Bill Jr., Sherlock
Jr., and others in previous
volumes). Nevertheless, there are moments of genius in both Go West and College, but also an eyebrow-raising instance of
controversy in the latter title.
Go West is a pleasant little ditty of feature length that takes penniless Friendless
(Keaton) to the “West†by jumping on a freight train. There, he manages to get
a job as a cowboy, but he knows nothing about milking cows, riding horses, or
anything else pertaining to working on a ranch. Even the rancher’s daughter
(Kathleen Myers) makes fun of him. Cue the brilliantly executed pratfalls,
stunts, and sight gags that only Buster Keaton can accomplish. Friendless does
become friends with a cow named Brown Eyes, who ends up following him around
wherever the almost-cowboy goes. The climactic sequence in Los Angeles, with
stampeding cattle on the streets of the city, provides the amusing payoff for
the picture.
College follows Ronald (Keaton) after he graduates from high school at the top
of his class, decidedly a bookworm with brains but no athletic interest or ability
whatsoever. Unfortunately, all the girls, especially Mary (Anne Cornwall), only
like the athletes. Nevertheless, Ronald enrolls in the same college as Mary and
the athletes—and Ronald attempts to show her that he, too, can play sports. He
can’t. One unfortunate sequence depicts Ronald getting a part time job as a
soda jerk, and he performs the role in blackface. In 1927, this was not
uncommon. The popular entertainer Al Jolson practically made his career out of
performing in blackface (The Jazz Singer was released the same year). Of course, one might excuse this horror by
stating that it was a vaudeville tradition for white comedians to sometimes
wear blackface. While movies should always be examined within the context of
when they were made and released, it is extremely difficult today to accept
this “tradition†in any way, shape, or form. However, if one gets past the soda
jerk scene, College does provide some laughs and the usual Keaton acrobatic stunts.
Cohen Film Group’s new Blu-ray release looks
marvelous. The films were painstakingly restored using multiple sources,
matching Volumes 1 through 3 from Cohen. These are indeed exceptional
presentations. Supplements include a 1923 short of Go West, plus a nearly-hour-long audio interview with Keaton in which he talks
about a television pitch he once made. Restoration trailers round out the
package.
Neither Go West nor College can be counted among Buster Keaton’s best works, but they still reside
in his golden period of independent silent pictures that are his important material.
For Keaton fans and cinema history buffs, Cohen’s Volume 4 of the Collection is
worth a look.
Wynne Kinch (Jenny Agutter) was adopted. She had been
raised by her mother, but at some stage prior to seven, still old enough to
know about what was happening, she was put up for adoption and taken into a
loving family with two considerably older brothers. Of the brothers, George
(Bryan Marshall) is her favourite, and now, at the age of fourteen, Wynne's
familial love is turning into lust and obsession. Denying that it is incest
because she was adopted, Wynne feels completely justified in having these
unrequited feelings towards her thirty-two year old brother.
The family live in a new high-rise block in Bracknell, Berkshire. Everything
around her is either white or concrete, and all of it new, yet she still yearns
to spend time in their old home: a large, crumbling farmhouse on the other side
of the park. It is condemned and marked for demolition, like all of the other
Victorian property we see in the area. Anything not brand new, it seems, is
unwanted. Wynne’s mother exclaims to her husband, “This place is a palace
compared to where we used to live.†“Oh yes?†he replies, “and you name me a
palace where the doorknobs keep falling off!†There is something rotten at the
heart of this new brutalist utopia.
This crumbling facade not only represents the forbidden
love at the centre of the family, but the possibility that George may be a
killer of young women. Bodies have been found in the park, and the police are
seemingly without a lead. When Wynne spots scratch marks on George's back, and
finds his jumper covered in blood, she begins to suspect that maybe he is the
culprit. Far from putting her off, this causes her love for him to grow
stronger, feeling a need to protect him. Only she truly understands him and can
help him. She fantasises about George kissing her, or walking in on her in the
bath. Wynne confesses her sinful thoughts to a Catholic priest during the day,
and caresses herself in bed at night.
I Start Counting! is adapted from Audrey Erskine Lindop's
novel from 1966, and the plot feels similar to the popular, although far more
graphic, schoolgirl-based Italian crime films of Massimo Dallamano: What
Have You Done to Solange? (1972, Italy/ West Germany) and What Have
They Done to Your Daughters? (1974, Italy). Perhaps Dallamano was familiar
with this film, as What Have You Done to Solange? is also set in
Britain, and features the murder of a schoolgirl in a park. There are also
similarities to the British thriller Assault (1971, Sidney Hayers,
UK), which again features schoolgirls being murdered in parks. This was clearly
a theme which needed exploring in the early 1970s.
I Start Counting! was directed by David Greene, who
had previously directed, amongst others, The Shuttered Room (1967,
UK) and The Strange Affair (1968, UK), the latter also featuring an
underage relationship, this time between a schoolgirl and a policeman. David
Greene had a varied and fascinating career, working in both film and TV between
Hollywood and the UK. Monthly Film Bulletin praised his direction of
this film, stating it was, “a coherent and accomplished piece of filmmaking.â€
Thankfully I Start Counting! has been rescued from its
ill-deserved obscurity by the new boutique Blu-ray label Fun City Editions, who
have presented a new restoration of the film in both a limited-edition version
with embossed slip cover and a standard edition. Alongside the restored film is
a fascinating interview with Jenny Agutter herself who is full of praise for
David Greene and the cast that she worked with. Only being sixteen at the time,
and with no professional acting training (her background was in ballet), she
felt very comfortable and supported throughout the film. She also discusses the
significance of the film in this early part of her career, coming as it did
just before The Railway Children (1970, Lionel Jeffries, UK) and Walkabout
(1971, Nic Roeg, UK/ Australia). Also included on the disc are a fascinating
feature commentary from film historian Samm Deighan and a well-written video
essay on the coming of age themes explored in I Start Counting!
If you have any interest in British cinema of the
1960s, I Start Counting! is well worth your attention and this new
release has been long in demand by film fans. And just what is it that Wynne
Kinch is counting? Watch the film and see if you can work it out for yourself.
Fun City Editions are clearly a Blu-ray label to watch,
and we at Cinema Retro await news of future releases with anticipation.
As
he has done with Apocalypse Now and The Cotton Club, as well as
early tinkering with the original Godfather movies for television,
Francis Ford Coppola has now unleashed a new edit of his 1990 picture, The
Godfather Part III.
Full
disclaimer: The Godfather Part III is not a bad movie. While it is
nowhere near approaching the masterpieces that are The Godfather (1972)
and The Godfather Part II (1974), the third film in the trilogy was
still honored with Oscar nominations for Best Picture, Best Director, Best
Supporting Actor (Andy Garcia), and some technical categories. This reviewer
feels that The Godfather Part III is a good movie, but perhaps
not a great one like the first two. Still, many critics and audience
members complained that it was a “failure†and threw a lot of criticism at poor
Sofia Coppola. She had stepped into a major supporting role at the last
minute just as cameras were rolling, replacing Winona Ryder, who had
abruptly dropped out for health reasons. Sofia went on to become an extremely
talented director and writer; as an actress she may have lacked that “light up
the screen†charisma, but she displayed an honesty and realism that was
entirely believable. In short, she was unfairly maligned.
Papa
Coppola has retitled the movie Mario Puzo’s The Godfather, Coda: The Death
of Michael Corleone, which apparently was the original title he and Puzo
wanted back in 1990, but Paramount balked and wanted them to go with “Part IIIâ€
for the sake of the box office. The filmmaker has also made subtle edits,
mostly in the first third of the movie, that affect the thrust of the picture.
The new version opened in some theaters on December 4, 2020, and it was released
on Blu-ray (with digital download code) on December 8.
The
opening is different. The original picture displayed hauntingly empty
zoom-throughs of early Corleone residences, mainly the Nevada one, with
flashbacks to Fredo’s murder. Now, a scene that appeared at approximately 39
minutes into the original Part III is the first thing we see—Michael
Corleone (Al Pacino) in a meeting with Archbishop Gilday (Donal Donnelly), the
head of the Vatican bank. Michael offers to bail out Gilday, who has blundered
management of funds and needs to cover a deficit. In return, Michael hopes to
go “legit†and own the majority holding of an international real estate
corporation the Vatican controls. The new cut completely deletes Michael being
honored with a papal order in St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York and instead goes
right to the party celebration, mimicking the openings of Godfather I and
II. Some scenes in the first half hour are shuffled so that this all
makes sense—and it’s for the better. The financial intrigue plot is less
confusing than it was in the original.
Not
much else is changed, save for the deletion of a later brief scene between
Michael and Don Altobello (Eli Wallach) that is inconsequential, and some
extremely subtle trimming of a few sequences. The ending is also slightly
altered; it wouldn’t be much of a spoiler to reveal it, but that won’t happen
here. As it turns out, Coda is roughly four minutes shorter than Part
III.
It
can be fascinating what a little editing can do to a movie. Coppola has managed
to “trim the fat†without trimming much at all. By rearranging some scenes, the
story is clearer. Most importantly, the focus on Michael and his attempt at
retribution—and failure at it—is emphasized. And that’s what this final chapter
in the Godfather saga is all about.
Al
Pacino delivers another fine performance in the picture; considering the slate
of Best Actor nominations for 1990, it’s a bit of a mystery why he wasn’t
included in the short list. Diane Keaton as Kay, Michael’s ex-wife, still
doesn’t have much to do in the movie, but she’s fine. Andy Garcia steals the
film as Vincent Mancini, the illegitimate son of the late Sonny Corleone (James
Caan in the first movie). The picture sorely misses the presence of Robert
Duvall, who declined to be in it. He is replaced by forgettable George Hamilton
as Michael’s attorney. Joe Mantegna provides the buzz in the first half of the
movie as adversary Joey Zasa until his spectacular demise in Little Italy.
Talia Shire reprises her role as Michael’s sister Connie, and, like Keaton’s
character, doesn’t have a lot to do except be a striking presence at Michael’s
side. Oh, and keep an eye out for a cameo by Martin’s mom, Catherine Scorsese,
in a street scene.
The
technical aspects are marvelous. The design and look of the film complement the
first two (Gordon Willis was DP on all three), the music by Carmine Coppola and
Nino Rota bring back the familiar mood, and the locations in Sicily are
gorgeous. All good stuff.
The
Paramount Blu-ray edition looks great, but it comes with no supplements except
a brief video introduction by Coppola, who explains his reasoning for recutting
the movie.
Despite
the revised title, the picture will probably always be known as The
Godfather Part III. Fans of the original cut will likely prefer Coda;
detractors may like the movie more than they did, but that’s not a guarantee.
When all is said and done, The Godfather, Coda: The Death of Michael
Corleone is still pretty much the same movie as Part III. Good, but
not great.
Cinema Retro has received the following press release from Kino Lorber Studio Classics:
New
York, NY -- December 8, 2020 --Buck Rogers in the 25th Century,
the '80s sci-fi classic TV series and 1979 theatrical feature starring Gil
Gerard, is now available on Blu-ray from Kino Lorber Studio Classics. Buck
Rogers: The Complete Collection, available on Blu-ray includes both seasons of the TV series plus the 1979 Theatrical Feature. The
Theatrical Feature is also available individually on Blu-ray.
The
Complete Collection comes packed with bonus features including the Pilot
Episode (Awakening), 32 Episodes and Theatrical Version (First Time in HD), NEW
Audio Commentaries for 11 Selected Episodes by Film/TV Historian Patrick
Jankiewicz, Author of Buck Rogers in the 25th Century: A TV Companion, NEW
Audio Commentary by Film Historians Steve Mitchell and Nathaniel Thompson
(Theatrical Feature), NEW Interview with Co-Star Erin Gray, NEW Interview with
Actor Thom Christopher (Hawk), 9-Minute Special Theatrical Preview, Theatrical
Trailer, and Two Radio Spots (Theatrical Feature).
The
Theatrical Feature Blu-ray & DVD includes Audio Commentary by Film
Historians Steve Mitchell and Nathaniel Thompson, 9-Minute Special Theatrical
Preview. Theatrical Trailer, and Two Radio Spots.
Buck
Rogers: The Complete Collection
Includes
Season 1 & 2 of the TV Series
Plus
the 1979 Theatrical Feature
Blast
off to the 25th century with Buck Rogers, one of the most popular sci-fi heroes
of all time! When 20th-century astronaut William “Buck†Rogers (Gil Gerard) is
awakened—500 years after a deep-space disaster—to an Earth in recovery from
nuclear war, he must join Colonel Wilma Deering (Erin Gray) to lead the crew of
the starship Searcher against a galaxy of evil from the past, present and
faraway future. Co-starring Felix Silla, Tim O’Connor and the legendary voice
of Mel Blanc as Twiki. This 9-disc set includes, the pilot episode, the
theatrical feature and all 32 action-packed Season One and Season 2 episodes of
the epic series with phenomenal guest stars Jamie Lee Curtis, Julie Newmar,
Henry Silva, Pamela Hensley, Jack Palance, Roddy McDowall, Macdonald Carey,
Cesar Romero, Richard Lynch, Frank Gorshin, Markie Post, Anthony James, Peter
Graves, Robert Quarry, Woody Strode, Gary Coleman, Ray Walston, John P. Ryan,
Paul Koslo, Mary Woronov, Jerry Orbach, Richard Moll, William Smith, Sid Haig,
Barbara Luna, Dennis Haysbert, Amanda Wyss, Alex Hyde-White, Tony Cox, Billy
Curtis, William Sylvester, John Fujioka and many more!
Blu-ray
Extras Include:
Includes
the Pilot Episode (Awakening), 32 Episodes and Theatrical Version (First Time
in HD)
NEW
Audio Commentaries for 11 Selected Episodes by Film/TV Historian Patrick
Jankiewicz, Author of Buck Rogers in the 25th Century: A TV Companion
NEW
Audio Commentary by Film Historians Steve Mitchell and Nathaniel Thompson
(Theatrical Feature)
Brand
New 2K Master! 500 Years into the Future... One Hero... An Entire Universe...
Let the Adventure Begin! Blast off with this groundbreaking theatrical feature
of the action-packed sci-fi adventure that launched the hit TV series starring
Gil Gerard, Erin Gray, Felix Silla and Tim O’Connor. Join legendary
intergalactic crimefighters William “Buck†Rogers (Gerard) and Colonel Wilma
Deering (Gray) as they lead the crew of the starship Searcher against a galaxy
of evil from the past, present and faraway future. Directed by Daniel Haller
(The Dunwich Horror) and co-starring Henry Silva, Joseph Wiseman, H.B. Haggerty
and Pamela Hensley.
Blu-ray
Extras Include:
Brand
New 2K Master
Audio
Commentary by Film Historians Steve Mitchell and Nathaniel Thompson
9-Minute
Special Theatrical Preview
Theatrical
Trailer
Two
Radio Spots
Dual-Layered
BD50 Disc
Optional
English Subtitles
DVD
Extras Include:
Brand
New 2K Master
Audio
Commentary by Film Historians Steve Mitchell and Nathaniel Thompson
Sandra de Bruin is an
established actress who has appeared in more than 100 television series (ER, Barnaby
Jones, The Rockford Files, Three’s Company, The Tonight Show with Johnny
Carson, to name but a few), TV films (Law and Order, Return to
Earth) and feature films (The Andromeda Strain, Gray Lady Down).
She has done numerous commercials, worked in voice-over and looping, danced at
the Los Angeles Music Center and is the creator of the bestselling Actor's
Audition Log. Sandra will periodically be sharing her stories of
working with Hollywood legends, which will appear in a forthcoming memoir about
her on-and off-screen adventures.
BY SANDRA DE BRUIN WITH DEAN BRIERLY
How does one describe a bright,
charming, handsome, witty con-man? (The onscreen variety, of course.) Well, if
he’s all of that and more—then he’s James Garner.
Every
Sunday night I would call my father in New York. This ritual began in the 1970s
and continued until he passed away in the late 1980s. I would regale him with
the follies and foibles of my week in Tinseltown, and he would patiently listen,
occasionally interjecting an upbeat comment. At the end of our conversations he
would invariably say something like, “Sweetheart, think about being a stage
actress. Come back to New York.â€
I would answer, “I’ll
think about it, Dad, but not until I’ve worked just once with James Garner.
Remember when we used to watch Maverick together? You’d say,
‘Now, there’s a man I’d like to meet.’ Well, I’m gonna meet him for you.â€
In
1974 it happened. I auditioned for and landed a nice role on the very first
episode of The Rockford Files.I played a prim hostess at an upscale
country club who succumbs to Jim’s charm as he tries to gain entrance to a private
outdoor patio. It was a fun scene in which Jim works his charismatic magic to con
me into showing him to a table. I was to become increasingly enamored as he
charms me, casually removing my sweater to a reveal a tight red dress, then
slipping off my glasses, and then letting my hair come tumbling down. Finally,
I would seductively say, “Come this way, Mr. Rockford. There’s one empty table
available.â€
Come
the day of the shoot at the Bel-Air Country Club I was anxiously pacing outside
going over my lines, trying to tie them together with the physical actions
required, when a familiar voice behind me said, “Would you like to run lines
with me?†Yeah, you got it. It was James Garner himself.
“Oh,
I’d love that. Thank you!†I replied. “I’m a little nervous and trying to get
the timing with the business right. Oh, I’m Sandy de Bruin, and I’m playing the
hostess.â€
“Okay,
then, Sandy de Bruin, let’s go to work.â€
Which
we proceeded to do for the next few minutes, until the makeup man called me
over to get freshened up prior to shooting the scene. Occupying the makeup chair
was an attractive blonde woman underneath a big straw hat. She was obviously one
of the extras who would be seated on the patio. But she didn’t move when the
makeup man politely asked her to please get out of his chair so he could touch
me up. “Why? Who’s she?†she asked,
still seated. I glanced up and saw that Jim was taking in her high and mighty
attitude.
“She’s
the actress in the next scene with Mr. Garner, that’s who she is,†the makeup
man responded with an edge in his voice. At that, she arrogantly stood up, slinked
over to where Jim was standing and tried to flirt with him. He gave her a blank
look, muttered something or other, then turned and walked away.
Moments
later the scene was set—Jim and I were on our markers and the extras were all
seated on the patio. Just as were about to rehearse, Jim motioned the director over.
In a quiet but firm voice he said, “See that blonde extra seated on the patio
with the big straw hat? Lose her!â€
The
director called to the Assistant Director in charge of extras, and moments
later the blonde was gone, but not before exchanging a few angry words with the
AD. All I remember hearing was “Just sign out. You’ll be paid for the day.â€
I
had never witnessed this kind of power, and was quite taken back. But Jim, the
total professional, just calmly turned to me and said, “Let’s do it.†We did,
and the take came off without a hitch. Unfortunately, when the episode aired
the hair-tumbling-down part was cut. But the scene was impressive enough to be
used in previews and PR blurbs for The
Rockford Files.
When
filming was over I said my adios and thanks to everyone on the set, drove home
and immediately called my father. This time he didn’t end our talk with the
usual, “Come home, sweetheart.†He knew I was hooked—and thriving—in Hollywood.
After
a year or so I was again cast in The
Rockford Files, this time playing a nurse at the Malibu hospital where
Rockford was taken whenever he needed medical help. My first scene was simply
assisting the doctor in removing buckshot from Rockford’s butt. Jim hated the
scene and was in no mood for any mishaps, so the set was tense from the start.
It definitely wasn’t timely for me to reintroduce myself. However, we got
through it okay.
The
next scene had me running through the hospital entrance, then skidding to a
halt and screaming, “It’s Rockford, and he’s been shot!†(Films and television
shows are rarely shot in sequence, so while this scene took place prior to the
buckshot scene, it was actually shot afterward.)
There
was no rehearsal, as it was a fairly simple shot. I ran through the entrance
and yelled my line in my inimitable fashion. Then I heard the dreaded words:
“Cut! You missed the marker, Sandy. Let’s do it again.†Jim, seated in his
chair watching the action, loudly muttered, “Jesus Christ, she can’t even hit
the marker.â€
Looking
down in vain for a marker, I instantly responded, “Sorry, I’ll get it right
next time.â€
Suddenly,
an angry voice rang down from the rafters: “There is nomarker!â€
Dead
silence.
Apparently,
this crew member had had enough of Jim’s attitude for the day. Within minutes a
marker was set down on the floor, and I nailed the scene in one take. When
lunch was called I retreated to my trailer, hoping to avoid further encounter. A
few minutes later there was a knock on my door. I hesitantly opened it.
Standing below me was Jim. He studied me for a moment before asking, “Why
didn’t you say there was no marker?â€
I
paused, then hesitantly replied, “They’re your crew. I’m only here for the
day.â€
He knew what I meant, but didn’t respond directly. He just said, “Get
some lunch. We’ve got good caterers,†and walked away.
Frank
Perry was a notable director and screenwriter who in the early part of his
career made some acclaimed motion pictures—David and Lisa (1962), The
Swimmer (1968), Last Summer (1969), and Diary of a Mad Housewife (1970).
Unfortunately, his later career was marked by problems (he directed the
much-maligned Mommie Dearest in 1981, for example). The earlier films
were written by or co-written with his then-wife and talented scribe, Eleanor
Perry.
Ladybug
Ladybug (1963)
was the follow-up to his beloved David and Lisa, for which Perry was
nominated for the Oscar Best Director. It is a treatise on the prospect of
nuclear war, made at a time when such a thing was on everyone’s mind. Released
just a year after the Cuban Missile Crisis, and a year prior to Stanely Kubrick’s
Dr. Strangelove and Sidney
Lumet’s Fail Safe, Ladybug examines the confusion and
miscommunication that could occur in a small American town if, by chance, the
early warning system either fails or misfunctions. Eleanor Perry wrote the
script, based on a short story by Lois Dickert (which allegedly is based on
true events).
The
film is notable mostly by the appearance of actors who would go on to bigger
and better things—Nancy Marchand, William Daniels, Estelle Parsons, and others
you might recognize as reliable supporting players. It’s a low-budget, black
and white affair that immediately recalls the style and sensibility of Perry’s
previous David and Lisa.
One
morning at the local school (is it a middle-school?—the kids all seem to be in
grades ranging from, say, third to eighth), the early warning system beeps
Yellow and won’t stop. This indicates that a nuclear strike is imminently within
an hour. The principal, Mr. Calkins (Daniels), isn’t sure what to do. He can’t
reach anyone to confirm whether the alarm is a mistake, a drill, or what…
Finally, he makes the decision to send all the students’ home, accompanied by
the teachers, who each walk an assigned group of kids to their nearby rural
dwellings. The story focuses on Mrs. Andrews (Marchand) and her charges. As the
children break off at their various domiciles along the way, one final group of
kids go to the home of Harriet (Alice Playten). Harriet’s parents aren’t there,
so the girl leads her classmates into a bomb shelter, where she takes charge,
evokes “rules,†and refuses to let anyone in or out of the shelter. The
situation is left ambiguous—is there an imminent strike or not?
What
we are left with is a sober meditation on the absurdity of how we all
planned—or not—for these events back in those “duck and cover†days of the
early 1960s. The message is clearly anti-nuke, and the drama comes from the Lord
of the Flies ambiance that swells among the kids in the shelter. I’m sure
that in 1963, this was potent stuff. Today, it’s a relic of a time and place
that resides in Baby Boomers’ collective memories.
Kino
Lorber’s Blu-ray release looks sharp and crisp in its glorious black and white.
There is an audio commentary by film historian Richard Harland Smith, as well
as subtitles for the hearing impaired. The theatrical teaser for this and other
Kino Lorber releases are also included.
For
fans of Hollywood “message†pictures of the 1960s, Ladybug Ladybug showcases
a young director at the beginning of a checkered career and an ensemble of
talented actors.
Those who have a weakness for British spy movies will find plenty to like in "The Whistle Blower", a largely unheralded 1986 production that boasts a fine performance by Michael Caine. He plays Frank Jones, a nondescript middle-aged Brit with a somewhat convoluted background. He was a fighter pilot in the military but his career came to an end when he struck a superior officer. It's then implied that he went on to work for British Intelligence in some capacity, though in reality his act of military insubordination would probably have excluded him from that position. When we are introduced to Frank he is a widower and owner of a small office supply business who is paying a visit to his 28 year-old son Bob (Nigel Havers, very good) for a low key celebration of his offspring's birthday. It turns out that Bob is employed by Government Communications Headquarters (GCHQ), which is a branch of the intelligence community. Frank finds Bob to be dealing with a good deal of pressure, both personally and professionally. He's in a romantic relationship with a woman, Cynthia Goodburn (Felicity Dean), who has a young daughter. Felicity is also currently married, though the film doesn't explore her motivations for carrying on an affair with the love-smitten Bob. Frank likes Cynthia personally but is disapproving of the relationship. But he discovers Bob has even bigger problems. For years he has been a Russian linguist in the agency, providing valuable service in translating information concerning Soviet activities and agents. He tells his father that he has uncovered some disheartening information that ties in with revelations regarding a recent scandal that caused embarrassment for the GCHQ when a Soviet agent had been revealed to have been working in the agency for a decade before being caught. Bob is alarmed by an atmosphere of paranoia at the agency in the wake of the scandal. All employees are being encouraged to keep track of their colleagues' activities and to report any suspicions regarding anyone whose allegiance might be questionable. Bob, an idealist, rejects this and has come to the conclusion that, based on other information he has uncovered, that British Intelligence and their American allies are every bit as brutal as the KGB. Frank dismisses the concerns and encourages Bob to stay on the job rather than resign in protest.
Things get murky when Bob is reported to have died in a tragic home accident. Frank immediately suspects that Bob was killed by his own agency to prevent him from revealing some information that might compromise the GCHQ's already tarnished reputation. He begins his own investigation and, as these things generally play out in conspiracy-themed movies, finds that he can trust no one, even old colleagues and friends. As Frank doggedly pursues the truth, he finds his own life in danger as well as those of Cynthia and her daughter. Director Simon Langton (his only feature film) keeps Julian Bond's talky but interesting script moving at a brisk pace. Refreshingly, the character of Frank is never miraculously transformed into an action hero. In fact, there is very little action or violence in the entire film. Caine gives a terrific, understated performance. His trademark wit doesn't get much opportunity to be displayed in this somber story but he does provide a healthy dose of his character's Harry Palmer-like cynicism in regard all aspects of the spy game. He gets able support from a fine cast that includes esteemed veteran actors like James Fox, Gordon Jackson (his final film), John Gielgud (in a pivotal cameo) and Barry Foster (superb as an old military service crony of Frank's who may or may not be involved in deception.)
The Kino Lorber transfer is right up to the company's usual excellent standards. The only bonus feature is a nice gallery of trailers for other KL releases starring Caine, although, curiously, "The Whistle Blower" trailer is not among them.
Frank
Perry was a notable director and screenwriter who in the early part of his
career made some acclaimed motion pictures—David and Lisa (1962), The
Swimmer (1968), Last Summer (1969), and this one, Diary of a Mad
Housewife (1970). Unfortunately, his later career was marked by problems
(he directed the much-maligned Mommie Dearest in 1981, for example). The
earlier films were written by or co-written with his then-wife and talented
scribe, Eleanor Perry.
Diary
is a
picture of its time and yet it can still resonate today with regards to the
#MeToo movement. The 1970 vibe is overpowering, for this was when Women’s Liberation
was on the rise and very much in the public consciousness. In this case,
Eleanor Perry is the sole writer, adapting the script from a 1967 novel by Sue
Kaufman. Starring newcomer Carrie Snodgress, who received an Academy Award
nomination for Best Actress and won a Golden Globe in the Best Actress—Comedy
or Musical category, the movie is decidedly a comment on New York City upper
class society at the time, as well as an acerbic meditation on male toxicity.
Tina
Balser (Snodgress) has everything going for her—a wealthy attorney husband,
Jonathan (Richard Benjamin), two young daughters, and a fabulous apartment in
Manhattan. She’s also smart, and she can be attractive when she’s not depressed
about what’s really going on in her life, namely that Jonathan is an A-1
Asshole. He is psychologically abusive, is a cad, he constantly belittles his
wife, he’s overly demanding, he expects sex because he’s “entitled†to it, and
he is ingratiatingly insufferable. Tina finally has enough and seeks out
fulfillment elsewhere. She meets a “famous novelist,†George (Frank Langella),
and begins an affair. Unfortunately, George is also an A-1 Asshole, is
psychologically abusive, is a cad, he constantly belittles Tina, and he’s
ingratiatingly insufferable. Through all this, the world and people around Tina
think she’s mad… but in reality, she’s the sane one in this story. Her
only fault is that she doesn’t get the hell out of Dodge, leave these
chauvinist, misogynist men behind, and start a new life somewhere.
All
three leads are excellent, although you’ll want to punch Richard Benjamin in
the face within two minutes of the movie’s beginning, and then keep punching
him every time he’s on screen. The same is true with overtly handsome, young
Frank Langella—I’m sure every heterosexual woman in the audience would sigh
over his presence but would soon also want to punch him every time he’s on
screen. Perhaps that’s why Tina goes for him (at first)—she needs some danger
and excitement in her otherwise mundane, submissive, and humiliating life with
her husband. Snodgress displays an elusive warmth in the picture that is
vitally important to its success. As a newbie, she received third billing after
Benjamin and Langella, but she carries the movie with courage, confidence, and
skill, and she appears in every scene.
Look
for Alice Cooper and his band performing in a party sequence, and you’ll also
spot Peter Boyle in an uncredited cameo at a therapy group session.
Kino
Lorber’s new Blu-ray showcases that easily recognizable 1970s film stock, and
it looks great. There are English subtitles for the hearing impaired, and the
movie comes with an audio commentary by screenwriter Larry Karaszewski, with
film historians Howard S. Berger and Steve Mitchell. Why Kino Lorber didn’t
hire a more appropriate female audio commentator is a mystery, but these guys
do a fine job anyway. The theatrical trailer for this and other Kino Lorber
titles are also included.
Diary
of a Mad Housewife is
certainly a relic of 1970, and yet it manages to still have something to say
fifty years later. In too many instances in the relationships between women and
men, very little has changed.
In
George Axelrod’s “Lord Love a Duck†(1966), Roddy McDowall and Tuesday Weld
play high school seniors in Los Angeles.McDowall was 38 at the time, Weld 23.Such casting, where actors in their twenties or older play teenagers, is
typical for Hollywood, then and now.In
“Lord Love a Duck,†which Axelrod produced, co-wrote, and directed from a novel
by Al Hine, neither McDowall nor Weld exactly looks like an 18-year-old, nor do
the actresses who play their classmates.They include Jo Collins, 21, then a recent Playmate of the Year.But here the disconnect doesn’t really
detract from the film.It simply
underscores its overall cartoonish surrealism.McDowall plays Alan, the genius-level valedictorian of his class, who
fixates on his classmate, pretty but vacuous Barbara Ann (Weld).“Her deepest and most heartfelt yearnings
express with a kind of touching lyricism the total vulgarity of our time,†he
marvels.The daughter of divorced
parents, living with her mother, a minimum-wage cocktail waitress (Lola
Albright), she’s lonely and adrift.She’s especially insecure since she’s been transferred to a brand new
school through a consolidation, and now she’s largely surrounded by kids she
hadn’t known before.(A sign that we’re
in 1966 and not 2020, Consolidated High’s student body and staff all appear to
be white.)When Alan approaches her, she
initially takes for granted that his interest is sexual.“I don’t do bad things with boys,†she
says.“You don’t have to do anything,â€
he responds.Instead, he just wants to
help her obtain the things she thinks will make her happy in life.
Alan
is so enterprising that other industrious movie and TV teens like Ferris
Bueller and Alex P. Keaton look like slackers in comparison.Barbara Ann’s wish list encompasses things
that will bring her instant gratification, and the first ones are simple.When she needs to buy twelve cashmere
sweaters to join the other girls‘ Cashmere Sweater Club, Alan advises that she
wheedle her father Howard (Max Showalter), playing on his guilt that he’s been
mostly absent from her life.When
Barbara Ann wishes she could go on a vacation, he suggests that she join the
youth group from her church on its weekend retreat to Malibu.Her next ambitions require a little more
work.The minister’s nephew Bob (Martin
West) is the chaperone for the trip, and when Barbara Ann decides “I want himâ€
(“Like the sweaters and the vacation?†Alan asks), Alan contrives to engineer a
wedding.What does Alan get out of
helping her, Barbara Ann asks.He
suggests it’s the joy of manipulation, “I think of things,†although the
expression on his face says he’s not altogether sure.Or maybe he realizes that even his ingenuity
is starting to get taxed.On the Malibu
trip, they encounter a B-movie producer, T. Harrison Belmont (Martin Gabel,
unbilled), who’s on the lookout for a fresh face to star in his next “bikiniâ€
film.When Barbara Ann quickly sours on
her marriage, she yearns for freedom to pursue her next desire, fame.Belmont offers an avenue for achieving that
goal, but first Alan has to remove the obstacle that now stands in the way,
Bob.
The
first half of “Lord Love a Duck†is outrageous and striking.Axelrod splashes his disdain for trendy,
materialistic culture with broad, gleeful strokes.When Barbara Ann’s father picks her up for
the trip to the sweater shop, they first stop at a curbside diner for lunch and
scarf down on hot dogs like gluttonous kids on a date.The camera puts us in the front seat with
them, uncomfortably close.At the store,
the shopping trip turns into a symbolic orgy of consumerism and sex.Barbara Ann seems to become erotically
aroused by trying on a succession of sweaters labeled “Grape Yum Yum,â€
“Periwinkle Pussycat,†and “Turquoise Trouble.â€Watching in extreme closeup, Dad leers, pops his eyes, and shivers like
a lecher brought to life from a dirty cartoon.Seemingly sated, they finally sprawl on the pile of tried-on
garments.Barbara Ann’s place of
worship, the “First Drive-In Church of Southern California†and its unctuously
cheery pastor, Dr. Neuhauser (Donald Murphy), kid the mega-church movement that
had begun to emerge in the ‘60s.Moderating the church’s youth group, Dr. Neuhauser focuses the
discussion on sex rather than scripture.It seemed like a wacky concept then.Now, the real-life Dr. Neuhausers are formidable power-brokers in
national politics, still more absorbed inother people’s sex lives than in spiritual matters.The buffoonish principal at the new high
school (Harvey Korman) is happy because he now has a public address
system.He’s as easily manipulated by
Alan as everyone else is.
The
year 2020 is the 100th anniversary of Federico Fellini’s birth, and the home
video world is seeing many restored and re-released titles from the maestro’s
catalog. The Criterion Collection has just released a 14-movie box set, for
example, but that exquisite package does not contain many of Fellini’s
post-1973 titles because of rights issues.
Enter
Kino Lorber. Their Kino Classics imprint has released on Blu-ray a gorgeously restored
edition of Fellini’s Casanova (1976; released in the U.S. in early 1977).
It was a big budget extravaganza capitalizing on the success of Fellini’s
masterpiece, Amarcord (1973; released in the U.S. in 1974), which won
the Oscar for Foreign Film of 1974 and was nominated for Best Director for
’75—yes, those eligibility rules are complicated.
Casanova
was
immediately a curiosity because Fellini cast none other than Donald Sutherland
in the role of the notorious womanizer, artist, and writer. The film is loosely
based on Giacomo Casanova’s Story of My Life, his autobiography
published posthumously in, it is believed, 1822 in a censored version. Between
then and today, the book has been published numerous times with additions and
deletions.
Casanova
lived between 1725 and 1798 and was well known in Italian society as a
libertine and adventurer, but he was more infamous as a lothario. The film is
an episodic journey through some of the more interesting escapades that we know
about, although these are, of course, filtered through the visionary lens of
Fellini. In many ways, Casanova is a film that resembles Fellini
Satyricon (1969), a picture that could be called “Ancient Rome on Acid.†It’s
rather obvious that Fellini was attempting to duplicate that picture’s success
with the same kind of surreal, grotesque, and decadent—but beautiful—imagery. Once
we get to the point when Casanova is bedding a female automaton who becomes the
one “woman†who satisfies him more than living ones, we know we’re deep within
Fellini’s universe.
Suffice
it to say that the movie is breathtaking to look at. The sets and costumes (the
latter won an Oscar) are marvels. The whole thing feels like a dream-story, and
Sutherland, as the protagonist, floats through the picture with an
uncomfortable presence. Fellini probably cast the actor because he does
resemble the real man (from paintings). Sutherland is good enough, although he
might be the first among many to wonder why he was cast.
That
said, Casanova is a mixed bag. It’s at least a half-hour too long (it
clocks in at two hours and thirty-five minutes), and it depends entirely too
much on the visuals to keep an audience in seats. The story, as it is, is
nothing too compelling. Nevertheless, Nino Rota’s musical score is lovely, as
always, and other technical aspects are top-notch. Is it sexy? Yes, in a weird Cirque
du Soleil kind of way. The depiction of Casanova “doing it†is more like an
acrobatic circus-act than any resemblance to actual lovemaking.
Kino
Lorber’s Blu-ray looks darned good. You have a choice whether to view the film
in English with no subtitles (as it was released in the West), or in the
original Italian with subtitles. It was filmed with Sutherland and certain
other English-speaking actors reciting dialogue in their native language. If
you go with the English version, you’ll hear Sutherland’s real voice, and the
Italian actors are dubbed. In the Italian version, Sutherland’s voice is dubbed
by an Italian actor. While normally this reviewer would champion viewing a film
in its original language, for Casanova I recommend the English version.
It’s like the Sergio Leone westerns with Clint Eastwood—we’d all rather view
the dubbed versions so we can hear Eastwood’s voice (or Van Cleef’s or Wallach’s).
The same is true for Casanova.
There
are no supplements save for an audio commentary by film critic Nick Pinkerton
and the theatrical trailer. The accompanying booklet contains an essay by film
scholar Alberto Zambenedetti, PhD.
Fellini’s
Casanova is
for the Fellini completists and enthusiasts who want to celebrate the
filmmaker’s centenary and for anyone looking for a surreal trip into an 18th Century
European never-never land.
Jerry
Schatzberg made a few interesting and notable pictures, some of which you may
know—The Panic in Needle Park (1971), Scarecrow (1973), The
Seduction of Joe Tynan (1979), Honeysuckle Rose (1980)—but his debut
feature slipped under the radar in 1970 when it was released, despite starring
the charismatic and beautiful Faye Dunaway when she was Hollywood Hot.
Schatzberg
began his career as a fashion photographer, and he’d made some commercials. The
story goes that he wanted to make a film about a fashion model he had known. Puzzle
of a Downfall Child was the result. The screenplay was written by
Schatzberg and Adrian Joyce (the pen name of Carole Eastman), whose best-known
work is Five Easy Pieces (also 1970).
The
semi-autobiographical tale focuses on the enigmatic Lou Andreas Sand (Dunaway),
a model with, well, problems. From the get-go we can see that she’s not a
stable person. She’s insecure and, as it turns out, what they used to call in
those days “neurotic.†She befriends Aaron, a photographer with whom she works
(Barry Primus, in his debut role). Aaron is the stand-in fictional character
for Schatzberg. He falls in love with Lou, and she keeps him at arm’s length.
At the same time, she has no problem bedding other men, including businessman
Mark (Roy Scheider in an early role). The men all treat Lou badly, and Lou
treats the men the same way. Eventually, Lou has a breakdown and must reach out
to Aaron once again for comfort.
That’s
the movie in a nutshell, but of course, there’s more, but mostly it’s all a
bunch of angst and sex and drugs and alcohol and anger. When released in the
U.S., the studio forced an opening over the credits with narration by Aaron
“explaining†what the movie was going to be about. Schatzberg was against the
idea, but he had no choice but to comply. Fortunately for him, when the picture
was released in Europe, his original opening was restored (and that’s what is
on this Blu-ray disk).
Adam
Holender’s cinematographer is gorgeous, but the direction takes on the style of
the French New Wave in spades, which was rather common in Hollywood in the late
60s and early 70s—erratic editing, non-linear narrative, “arty†shots, and
pseudo-existential themes. While there is much to admire in Dunaway’s
performance, the movie comes off as an eccentric American pastiche of
Antonioni’s Blow-up (1966), which also focused on the world of fashion
photography (albeit in London). Puzzle may have attempted to be edgy in
1970, but there is an unfortunate pretentious amateurishness to the
proceedings. Luckily, Schatzberg would improve and deliver much more
accomplished pictures in his future career.
Kino
Lorber’s new Blu-ray looks marvelous and comes with English subtitles for the
hearing-impaired. An audio commentary by film historian/filmmaker Daniel Kremer
and film historian/podcaster Bill Ackerman accompanies the feature. Supplements
include a recent interview with Schatzberg (now 93) on a Zoom call (it was shot
post-Covid); the alternate studio-cut opening (not in high definition); and a
“Trailers from Hell†episode on the film featuring Larry Karaszewski. Trailers
for this and other Kino Lorber titles round out the package.
Puzzle
of a Downfall Child will
be of interest to fans of Faye Dunaway and experimental art films of the
period.
The Warner Archive has released the 1964 comedy "Honeymoon Hotel". The film, made just a few years before the liberalization of sex in the American cinema, is a labored affair with a sterling cast that is largely wasted due to a ludicrous script and leaden direction. This is somewhat surprising because the screenwriters- R.S. Allen and Harvey Bullock- were hot properties at the time, having written some truly classic sitcoms and memorable feature films. Here, they drop the ball with a script that resembles a horny 15 year-old boy's viewpoint of romance and sex. The film opens by introducing us to two best friends, Ross Kingsley (Robert Goulet) and Jay Menlow (Robert Morse), who revel in the fact that they share a Manhattan bachelor pad where they entertain a steady stream of female conquests. The handsome and devilish Ross is clearly the main magnet for the willing women, but even nerdy Jay is doing alright for himself. Thus, it puzzles Ross as to why Jay is about to marry traditional good girl Cynthia (Anne Helm). The story shifts to the scene of the opulent wedding. Just before the rituals can be carried out, however, Cynthia observes Jay and Ross ogling her friend Lynn Hope (Nancy Kwan). She has a public hissy fit and calls off the wedding. The ever-resourceful Ross realizes that Jay is now stuck with a honeymoon package to a tropical island for two that appears to be useless. Not wanting to let the opportunity pass by, he convinces Jay to go on the trip and take him along on Cynthia's ticket. The plan is to get Jay over his grief by getting back into the world of womanizing. Where better to do so than a tropical isle? The two men check into Honeymoon Hotel without realizing that it adheres to a strict policy of catering to newlyweds only.
Through a string of coincidences the strict desk clerk misses the fact that two men are checking into the same room. This leads to any number of double entrendres and opportunities to overact as the maids come to realize that two guys appear to be on a honeymoon together. (Keep in mind this was 1964). Ross and Jay ponder why they are striking out with the female guests until they finally learn of their dilemma. Just when their libidos seem destined for disaster, they conveniently discover that there is one single woman on the property: Lynn Hope, who is the social director of the resort. This sets in motion a string of coincidences that are so unbelievable they would be more appropriate in a science fiction film. Predictably, Ross woos Lynn but on the verge of getting her into bed, she runs into Jay and learns of Ross's reputation as a serial seducer. She then plays Jay and Ross against each other in a pedantic series of scenarios in which each man thinks he will be the one to score with her. Finally, Ross legitimately falls for Lynn and in true storybook tradition, makes plans to finally settle down with the right girl. Then everything goes to hell in the film's wacky but dreadful conclusion in which one of his former conquests, Sherry (Jill St. John in typical air-headed floozy mode) arrives as the resort as the mistress to Ross's crusty boss (Keenan Wynn). In the increasingly ridiculous scenario, the boss's wife turns up because she suspects he is dallying with other women. Then Cynthia appears out of nowhere to see if she can reconcile with Jay. The situations that follow find Sherry being passed around by the males like an appetizer on a platter as each man finds he has to hide her presence from his significant other. Bedroom farces can be quite funny if carried out competently but Levin proves he isn't up to the task. The cast gamely goes through the manic pacing but there isn't a genuine laugh to be found.
The biggest disappointment with "Honeymoon Hotel" is the squandering of the admirable talent on screen. Goulet always had a fine screen presence in addition to being an impressive crooner. With his model-like good looks he should have been a much bigger star in films, but he seemed to primarily be relegated to mid-range fare like this. Morse made it big by being cast repeatedly as a "Jerry Lewis Lite". His aping of the comedy legend is so apparent that it was wonder he wasn't sued for identity theft. Morse has talent but he's reduced to enacting ridiculous scenarios that are completely out of place in what is supposed to be an adult romantic comedy. Other victims include fine supporting actors like Elsa Lanchester , who is consigned to a tiny role as a maid and the great British character actor Bernard Fox who plays the rigid desk clerk. Nancy Kwan is especially wasted, a fact the producers seemed to have realized because they shoehorn in a pretentious dance routine designed to show off her talents in that area despite the fact that it comes completely out of left field and doesn't even fit in the context of the sequence. Everything about "Honeymoon Hotel" is second rate. The film's bare bones budget is reflected by the fact that the closest the cast got to a tropical isle was a few hours shooting at a local beach a few miles from MGM's back lot. The opulent resort depicted in the film is stuffed with claustrophobic sets and an abundance of plastic palm trees. I've seen more convincing recreations of island life in department store summer patio displays. Even the "bachelor pad" is the recycled set from the "bachelor pad" seen in the previous year's MGM comedy, the far superior "Sunday in New York". Although the movie attempts to be risque with its sexual themes, the producers didn't have the courage to go beyond some smarmy one-liners. The honeymoon resort is populated by couples who appear to never stop copulating but the biggest laugh in the film is an unintentional one: the bedrooms in the suites all have separate beds, which makes the film as sexually daring as an episode of "I Love Lucy". "Honeymoon Hotel" might have been construed as a sex comedy but it's as flaccid as....well, a wet noodle.
The bare bones DVD release has no extras.
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