Todd Garbarini
Entries from March 2021
BY TODD GARBARINI
Tsugunobo Kotani is a film director whose
name does not roll off the tongue throughout film circles. A handful of titles
to his credit consist of Hatsukoi (1975), The Last Dinosaur
(1977), The Ivory Ape (1980), and The Bloody Bushido Blade
(1981), and there are a good number of Japanese-language titles that appear in
his early filmography. An Internet search of “Tom Kotani,” the Americanized
variant of Tsugunobo and the director’s name as it appears in some of his
movies, yields even less information. While most people may not recognize him,
there is a small but significant percentage of film viewers, yours truly
included, who have been deeply affected by one of his films in particular: the
made-for-television undersea effort The Bermuda Depths. Filmed in the
British Overseas Territory of the Bermudas in 1977, The Bermuda Depths
is mysterious for several reasons. It is a film that is difficult to categorize
as it touches upon several genres: action, fantasy, romance, and science
fiction. It attempts to mix several elements of the fantastic (a giant turtle
and its relation to a voluptuous young maiden lost at sea) with the realistic
(a young man in search of the truth behind his father’s mysterious and untimely
death).
Arguably the most memorable film “inspired”
by Stephen Spielberg’s Jaws (1975), The Bermuda Depths was
originally broadcasted on the ABC Friday Night Movie on January 27, 1978 and
was repeated on Friday, August 29, 1980. A smattering of repeat broadcasts and a
curiously unheralded VHS release followed. It benefits from a touch of myth
from Ambroise Paré’s “On Monsters and Marvels” and plays out in a dreamlike
fashion. Leigh McCloskey stars as Magnus Dens, a drifter who returns to the
scene of his father’s death hoping to find closure. He encounters an old
friend, Eric (Carl Weathers), who is completing his master’s degree in Marine
Biology while working for the avuncular Dr. Paulus (Burl Ives). The scientists
are both interested in abnormalities and gigantism in sea life, technically
known as Teratology, and are looking for any sea creatures that live in the
deepest depths of the ocean to study them. At the heart of all of this is an
enigmatic woman named Jennie Haniver (Connie Sellecca) who may or may not be
real. Jennie lives in the ocean and comes ashore when Magnus shouts her name.
Jennie and Magnus used to play together as children, and on the beach they
found a large turtle upon which they inscribed their initials. Now the turtle
has reached enormous physical proportions and lives deep in the ocean,
occasionally rising to the surface. The last third of the film concerns Eric’s
futile attempts to capture the sea creature and gives the filmmakers the
opportunity to put the three men on a boat a la Sam Quint, Matt Hooper, and
Chief Martin Brody, with the “Panulirus” sitting in the for the “Orca”.
If The Bermuda Depths is about
anything that we can be absolutely sure of, it’s that highly successful films
inevitably spurn imitations. This was certainly the case during the mid-1970’s
when everyone and his brother was scrambling to re-enact the success of Jaws.
The Bermuda Depths takes the unusual step of adding a supernatural love
story into the mix and successfully creates a tragic tale of love and doom. Mr.
McCloskey was a successful television actor by this point, best known for the Rich
Man, Poor Man (1976) mini-series, and sports the natural Southern
California good looks that make Magnus appealing to young women. Carl Weathers
of Rocky (1976) fame embodies Eric with terrific zeal, although his truncated
half-shirt near the film’s ending is a questionable wardrobe choice. Burl Ives
is wonderful as the elder who tries his best to get Eric to look at the
situation through scientific eyes. Connie Sellecca, in her first film role at
age twenty-two, does an exceptional turn as Jennie Haniver. She possesses a
magical, ethereal quality and is achingly beautiful. Julie Woodson, Playboy
Magazine’s Miss April 1973, is remarkably beautiful and quite good as Eric’s
wife Doshan. Ruth Attaway, who played the nurse in The Taking of Pelham 123
(1974) to comedic effect, is mysterious and eerie as Delia, the housekeeper and
proverbial party pooper who warns Magnus about the Legend of Jennie Haniver,
seemingly a believer in the supernatural.
The Rankin Bass team responsible for their
wonderful collaborations in the Sixties and Seventies on the Christmas holiday
television show specials that millions grew up on, especially Rudolph the
Red-Nosed Reindeer (1964) which also featured Mr. Ives, produced the film.
There is a definite “Rankin Bass” feel to The Bermuda Depths, particularly
in the special effects which today look quite amateurish: the helicopter crash
sequence near the film’s end looks similar to the finale of the Mad Monster
Party? explosion on the island, and close-up shots of the vessel’s
propeller and the trawler crashing against the ocean waves in slow-mo look as
though they was filmed in a bathtub. The special effects-laden ending almost
compromises the intriguing supernatural and romantic mystery that precedes it.
This is a case where the film’s style almost outweighs its substance. Despite
this, however, the low-budget effects add a certain charm to the film, a
reminder of filmmaking from days gone by when less money and more ingenuity was
considered an asset.
The film possesses more than its share of derivations:
Dr. Paulus’s throwaway line about needing “a bigger boat”; Eric’s decision to
pursue the turtle on the Fourth of July of all days; Delia’s unexplained
disappearance from the second half of the film; and Magnus’s inquiry into his
father’s death mirrors Luke Skywalker asking the same of Obi-Wan Kenobi, whom
Dr. Paulus even resembles. Composer Maury Laws provides a beautiful score which
I always wished would appear as a soundtrack album. Hopefully, some independent
label (i.e. Waxwork Records) will give this score its due.
While the film does
appear somewhat corny after more than forty years, it possesses an innocent
quality about it that is sadly lacking in most entertainment product of late.
The slow and languid images of Magnus and Jennie on the beach and in the cave
recall a time in American filmmaking when the audience failed to be bombarded
by fast editing and could actually digest the images presented to them.
Unquestionably there are those who will complain about the film’s slow pace,
but there are plenty of treasures here film to make it one that deserves a new
generation of admirers: the eerie day-for-night photography which Mr. Spielberg
also employed in the opening of his 1975 masterwork; Maury Laws’ soothing title
tune “Jennie” with vocals by Claude Carmichael; and the use of Antonio
Vivaldi’s elegiac “Largo” from his “Concerto for Lute (Guitar), Two Violins
and Basso Continuo in D Major” as the lovers’ theme.
Continue reading "REVIEW: "THE BERMUDA DEPTHS" (1977); WARNER ARCHIVE BLU-RAY SPECIAL EDITION"
BY TODD GARBARINI
In
the pantheon of great cinematographers there are certain names that immediately
come to mind: Gregg Toland (Citizen Kane, 1941); Robert Burks (Vertigo,
1958); Owen Roizman (The French Connection, 1971; The Exorcist,
1973); Gordon Willis (The Godfather, 1972; The Godfather Part II,
1974); Vittorio Storaro (The Conformist, 1970; The Last Emperor,
1987); and Sven Nykvist (Persona, 1966; Cries and Whispers, 1973)
to name just a few. The late great Carlo Di Palma, who passed away in 2004
after amassing just over 60 screen credits, is one such master and is the
subject of the 2016 documentary Water and Sugar: Carlo Di Palma, The Colours
of Life, which opened in Manhattan on Friday, July 28, 2017.
The
film performs a tightrope act of trying to be both a loving tribute to an
artist by director Fariborz Kamkari, who mixes scenes from the films that
Signor Di Palma cut his teeth on in the business and also an appreciation by his
widow, Adriana Chiesa Di Palma, who appears in much of the film as a gateway to
many film industry people who offer up their thoughts on Sig. Di Palma, often interjecting
their own feelings and impressions of his work. The film is at its most
interesting, however, when looking directly at his career through past
interviews and behind-the-scenes stills, beginning in Italian cinema in the
early 1940s as a focus puller and camera operator – at the age of fifteen no
less! - for notable Neo-Realist director Luchino Visconti (Ossessione,
1943) and later for Vittorio DeSica (The Bicycle Thief, 1948), while
graduating to more high-brow and intellectual fare. Specifically, these were the
films he shot for the highly acclaimed and award-winning Italian master Michelangelo
Antonioni: Red Desert (1964) with its colorful, pollution-drenched
cities swallowing up everyday people; Blow-Up (1966) with the message
that one must create their own reality; and the Cannes Film Festival
Award-Winning Identification of a Woman (1982) with Tomas Milian as a
divorced filmmaker trying to understand women.
Sr.
Di Palma worked most prolifically with Woody Allen beginning with one of the
director’s greatest films, 1986’s Hannah and Her Sisters and the period
films Radio Days (1987), Shadows and Fog (1992) and Bullets
Over Broadway (1994). His hand-held work on Husbands and Wives
(1992) is also dissected. Ample time is allotted Mr. Allen, who recalls his
experiences working with the cinematographer and how they discussed films over
lunch and dinner.
The
juxtaposing of interview footage with the film’s subject and comments from
contemporaries, such as the late great Bernardo Bertolucci who worked with Sig.
Di Palma on 1981’s Tragedy of a Ridiculous Man, are insightful and contemplative;
there is also the amazing recollection of how a very young Sven Nykvist happened
upon Sr. Di Palma, a fact verified decades later; and finally, the explanation
for the film’s title.
Alec
Baldwin, who appeared in Mr. Allen’s 1990 fantasy film Alice, makes the
case that movies like the ones shot by Sr. Di Palma are art. It makes one
wonder about the wisdom on the part of the distribution companies that offer up
documentaries about cinematographers, generally only presenting them in the
standard definition format of DVD. Without taking anything away from Disney and
big-screen Marvel Comics epics that rule home video in 4K Ultra High Definition
and Dolby Atmos, would it not make sense to showcase the stories of cinema’s
finest visual stylists on Blu-ray as well? The scenes offered up in Water
and Sugar examples of the beautiful color palettes of Sig. Di Palma’s greatest
works which aided in the accolades bestowed upon these films. The Kino Lorber DVD includes the original trailer as the only bonus feature.
Last
of all, can someone please correct the indignity of Sig. Di Palma’s profile pic
on his IMDB.com page? It erroneously depicts Italian cinematographer Marco
Onorato accepting an award at the European Film Awards on December 6, 2008 in
Copenhagen, Denmark. While no disrespect is meant to Sr. Marco Onorato, who
sadly passed away at age 59, the least that the IMDB can do is correct this
unfortunate and persistent oversight.
CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM AMAZON
BY TODD GARBARINI
The
late Arthur Barron was a New York-based documentary film director perhaps best
known for his two-hour Birth and Death film from 1969, followed by the true
story of the Wright Brothers and their road to flight. Following these projects
but prior to delving into made-for-television documentary fare in the
mid-1970’s, he tried his hand at feature filmmaking, employing similar documentary-style
techniques that William Friedkin used to startling effect in his masterful 1971
film The French Connection. Instead of following around two police
detectives hot on the trail of heroin smugglers, however, Mr. Barron instead turned
his attention to a dramatic subject that, almost unbelievably, was for the most
part untapped at the time. His feature film directorial debut is the teenage
coming-of-age romantic drama filmed in the autumn of 1972 called Jeremy,
starring actor Robby Benson as the titular hero and Glynnis O’Connor in her
debut role as the girl who catches his eye and ultimately wins his heart.
Jeremy
Jones is by no means a stud, nor is he a complete nerd or outcast in the high
school sense of the word. He seems to fall somewhere in between, having been
born into a life that is both spirited and adventurous. He plays the cello in
the school band and wins admiration but also (tender) criticism from his music tutor
(Leonardo Cimino); he plays on the school basketball team; he walks dogs for
extra money; he even has a knack for picking winning horses at the racetrack
but cannot bet because he is too young. While running an errand for his music teacher,
Jeremy catches sight of a new girl in school who has arrived from Detroit following
her father’s (Ned Wilson) fallout from his job. He’s a big shot and they live a
privileged life on Park Avenue off of 73rd Street in Manhattan at a
time when it was affordable to do so. She’s a petite beauty (Glynnis O’Connor) whom
he sees practicing dance moves. She bears a bit of a resemblance to how Linda
Blair looks in William Friedkin’s The Exorcist (1973). Jeremy is
instantly smitten and cannot get her out of his head but forgets to ask her
name. His best friend Ralph is someone whom he confides in and Ralph is
unconventionally understanding and patient, doing his best to give him advice
on how to approach the girl following their initial encounter. Jeremy follows
her to a record store on West 49th Street in New York, just to get a
glimpse of her. Another meeting following his accolades for his work in a school
recital reveals her name as Susan. The film captures the awkwardness of making
The First Phone Call, something relegated to the side of the road today in the
age of cell phones, text messages, social media, and Tumblr.
Jeremy
and Susan begin dating and quickly fall madly in love with one another the way
that care-free adolescents can at a pivotal time in their lives prior to the
rigors and responsibilities that inevitably befall them following the onset of
adulthood. Jeremy’s parents are sort of wrapped up in their own world. His mother
grows impatient over her husband’s inability to agree with her over choosing
the color of tiles. In fact, all the adults appear to be too busy for much of
anything other than running on the wheel of the rat race.
Jeremy is a breath of fresh air and the lack
of teasing and bullying from fellow students is a welcome relief. What you get
is one of the most honest and moving depictions of high school life ever
committed to film, although the fairy tale view of New York is a little bit
questionable as there is no mention of the Watergate Scandal or the Vietnam
War. New York at the time of filming was even more dangerous than it is now. Lee
Holdridge composes a score that is romantic and effective and provides the
perfect balm to the film’s inevitable and heartbreaking ending which, though
bittersweet, thankfully isn’t the knife-to-the-heart agony felt by the
protagonist in Piers Haggard’s A Summer Story (1988). Look fast for
James Karen of the old Pathmark commercials as Frank in a cameo in the Monopoly
board game scene hosted by Susan’s aunt. This occurs 75 minutes into the film. His
voice is unmistakable. You may also remember him as Craig T. Nelson’s boss Mr.
Teague in 1982’s Poltergeist.
Director
Barron would go on to helm the humorous ABC Afterschool Special “It Must
Be Love (‘Cause I Feel So Dumb)†which aired on Wednesday, October 8, 1975 and
starred the charming Alfred Lutter III of Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore (1974)
fame. This short is worth seeking out as it contains hi-jinks characteristic of
kids finding their way in the world. A quick YouTube search will reveal the
truncated Learning Corporation of America (LCA) version that made the rounds in
middle schools across the country. The longer ABC-TV cut is more elusive.
Continue reading "REVIEW: "JEREMY" (1973) STARRING ROBBY BENSON AND GLYNNIS O'CONNOR; FUN CITY BLU-RAY SPECIAL EDITION"
BY TODD GARBARINI
If
the title Killdozer is familiar to you, you may have seen it before. Originally
a novella by Theodore Sturgeon published in the November 1944 issue of Astounding
Science Fiction magazine, a Marvel Comics book in April 1974, and later appearing
in The Mammoth Book of Golden Age: Ten Classic Stories from the Birth of
Modern Science Fiction Writing (1989), Killdozer was adapted into a
made-for-TV movie which aired on Saturday, February 2, 1974. Sporting the
tagline “Six men…playing a deadly game of cat and mouse…With a machine that
wants to kill them,†and billed as A World Premiere ABC Saturday Suspense
Movie, there is little suspense in this overly silly tale of a Caterpillar D9
that is enlisted by a team of construction workers who have been assigned to build
a landing strip for an oil drilling company on an island near Africa. Were it
not for the movie’s literary origins, I would have sworn that it was an attempt
to rip-off Steven Spielberg’s Duel (1971).
Kelly
(Clint Walker), the project’s foreman, and bulldozer driver Mack (Robert Urich)
uncover a meteorite which was buried many years prior – shades of “Who Goes
There?â€, the 1938 novella by John W. Campbell and later the inspiration for the
1951 and 1982 film versions of The Thing. The strange sound emitting
from the object fails to deter the men from attempting to move the meteorite, a
decision which proves to be fatal to Mack who dies several hours later as a
result of radioactive material emanating from the foreign object. In the
company of these men is a mechanic name Chub (Neville Brand) who fails to
ascertain why the bulldozer has been rendered inoperative; it is swiftly barred
from further use. In comes genius Beltran (James A. Watson, Jr.) who forgoes
the caveat and puts the D9 back to work. Unfortunately, the bulldozer becomes
sentient and has a life of its own, going on a rampage to destroy their only
radio communications a la Quint in Jaws (1975), and then it turns into
Agatha Christie’s Ten Little Indians until the film’s silly finale.
The
decision to make Killdozer into a film may have been inspired by the
publication of the Stephen King short story “Trucks†which appeared in the June
1973 issue of Cavalier, a men’s magazine. Mr. King later directed this as
Maximum Overdrive (1986) in the fall of 1985. Killdozer is a bit
of a dozer in 2021 but lovers of television films of the era of the 1970s will
find much to admire here: the technology of the time, the neat musical score by
Gil Mellé, the possessed titular “creatureâ€, and the performances of the lead
actors.
Kino
Lorber continues their track record of releasing nifty and semi-forgotten titles
on Blu-ray, and Killdozer is now available. This Blu-ray release
contains:
A
brand new 2K transfer, and the film image is very clean.
There
is an audio commentary by film historian Lee Gambin and film critic Jarret
Gahan. This is an excellent and informative listen and is truly the reason to
spring for this release, even if you’re on the fence about the actual film
itself.
There
is an audio interview with director Jerry London that runs just over twenty-two
minutes wherein he discusses making the film.
There is also a stills gallery and a set of
trailers for Fear No Evil (1969), Ritual of Evil (1970), More
Dead Than Alive (1969) and Sam Whiskey (1969).
The
disc also includes optional English subtitles.
There
have been several real-life incidents with near impenetrable vehicles
commandeered for ill-purposes with terribly sad and tragic results. On May 17,
1995, a military veteran named Shawn Nelson had suffered many personal
tragedies and stole an M603A Patton Tank and drove it through the streets of
San Diego, CA, wreaking havoc before being shot and killed. Some years later, fifty-one-year-old
Marvin Heemeyer, an avid snowmobiler, welder and automobile muffler repair shop
owner, was living in Granby, CO and got into a dispute with a company wanting
to build a concrete batch plant near his property. Push came to shove following
many acrimonious townhall meetings and arguments with the concrete company that
were either real or imagined depending on whom you speak with. Mr. Heemeyer,
inspired by the vigilante Vin Diesel action film A Man Apart (2003) and passionately
believing that God sanctioned him to do so, purchased a Komatsu D355 bulldozer
and modified it undetected over 18 months into an armored behemoth outfitted
with thick steel and cameras. On June 4, 2004, he bulldozed his way through
town, destroying the main building of the concrete batch plant and caused seven
million dollars’ worth of damage in a two-hour rampage until he was ultimately
stopped by a leaking radiator and an error in judgement, electing to shoot
himself rather than be taken into custody. A well-made documentary was made
about this horrible event called Tread (2020). It was directed by Paul
Solet. Strangely, no mention of Killdozer is ever made during the
88-minute documentary.
CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM AMAZON
|
|