One of our favorite Duke Wayne/Howard Hawks flicks is the 1967 western "El Dorado", which memorably teamed Wayne with Robert Mitchum and up-and-comer James Caan. Here's the original cut of the trailer, which was created using a temp track for music, as Nelson Riddle's score obviously had not been completed yet.
Here's a brief interview with Robert Vaughn, who was attending the London premiere of producer Ross Hunter's ill-fated musical version of "Lost Horizon" in 1973. It's a good thing he wasn't ask to speak after he saw the film, as his mood may not have been as congenial!
Northrop Frye’s “Anatomy of Criticism” maintains that all
stories are about a quest for identity. Identity, he maintains, is derived from
one’s position in society and in stories with a happy ending. A character
starts out in isolation but eventually finds his place in society. That’s the
story of the young hero who rises from obscurity, finds the girl of his dreams,
overcomes obstacles and lives happily ever after. Tragic stories are about characters
who start out with an established identity but lose it for one reason or
another and end up totally isolated or dead. Like Macbeth or Hamlet.
Kino Lorber Studio Classics recently released a double
feature on Blu-Ray of a couple of low-budget westerns from the 50’s starring
Anthony Quinn that surprisingly, despite their humble origins, demonstrate
pretty clearly what Frye meant. “The Man from Del Rio” (1956), and “The Ride
Back” (1957) are not your typical westerns.
“The Man from Del
Rio” is the story of two people more or less isolated from society. David
Robles (Anthony Quinn) is a Mexican gunslinger newly arrived in the town of
Mesa, Kansas. When we first see him he’s drunk and waiting on a bench on the
side of the street until a man named Dan Ritchy (Barry Atwater) rides into town.
Robles kills him in revenge for Ritchy killing his family five years ago down in
Del Rio. Robles is wounded and taken by Sheriff Jack Tillman (Douglas Spencer)
to the doctor’s office. Robles has “a flesh wound” and is bandaged up by Estella
(Katy Jurado), a Mexican woman who works for Doc Adams’ (Douglas Fowley). She’s
more or less established her identity as the doctor’s assistant and
housekeeper, but feels some sense of isolation nonetheless because she’s a
Mexican.
Dirty and unshaven, Robles tries to put some moves on
her, but she rejects him. He leaves the doctor’s office and encounters Ed
Bannister (Peter Whitney), the owner of the only saloon in town. He takes him
to the saloon and buys him drinks, telling him he ought to be angry with him.
He had just hired Ritchy as part of an armed force he wants to use to take over
the town. Dodge and Abilene aren’t the wild towns they used to be, he says, and
he figures to turn Mesa into a new Sin City with him in charge. He offers
Robles Ritchy’s job. Robles demurs but then three more desperadoes that
Bannister sent for ride into town. Billy Dawson (John Larch), his brother
George (Mark Hamilton), and Fred Jasper (Guinn “Big Boy” Williams), come into
the saloon and invite Robles to drinks when they learn he killed Ritchy.
Robles whoops it up with the three outlaws who treat him
like an old friend, but after a while he tells Bannister he’s leaving. On his
way to his horse he spots Estella outside the doctor’s office and decides he
needs the doc to take another look at his gunshot wound. The doctor is out so
Robles tries again to get her to warm up to him but she’s having none of it. There’s
a commotion out in the street. They go outside and Estella reacts in horror as
she sees the Dawson brothers and Jasper throw a rope around Sheriff Tillman and
hoist him up on a rafter in front of the saloon. Estella runs to help the
sheriff, but Billy Dawson grabs her, throws her across his saddle and starts to
ride off with her. Robles tries to stop them and Billy draws his gun and Robles
kills him and the other two as well.
This is where the film gets interesting. Left with no
lawman to protect them and with Bannister threatening to hire more guns and ruin
the town for his own benefit, the townspeople offer Robles $100 a month and a
place to live in the back of the jail if he’ll take the sheriff’s job. Robles sees
the offer as a way to continue his pursuit of Estella and accepts. For the
moment it appears the outcast has found a place in the community. Even Estella
is kinder to him after he’d rescued her.However, she allows him to get no closer to her. When he tells her he’s
a better man now. He’s got a job, money and a place to live. But she reminds
him of his real place in Mesa. “Have you
ever gotten rid of rats in a house?” she asks. “You throw a snake into it and
lock the door. But when the rats are gone do you keep the snake around?”
The turning point in the story comes when the town holds
a dance. Everybody is enjoying themselves until the new sheriff shows up, all
clean and slicked up. First they stop him at the door and tell him to check his
gun and hat. There’s an awkward silence as everyone watches him and moves away
from him as he approaches. He asks one of the women to dance and she runs for
the punch bowl. Estella watches as the community gives Robles the cold
shoulder. He finally gets his hat and gun and goes outside to share a bottle
with Breezy (Whit Bissell), the town drunk.
Estella comes out from the dance and asks him why he
doesn’t leave. “Have you no pride?” she asks.
Robles tells her that she is the only reason he has
stayed in Mesa.
“You think I want you?” she asks.
“Don’t you?” Robles replies.
The scene ends with Robles slapping her and lurches off
in a drunken rage to have a final confrontation with Bannister.
“Man from Del Rio” was made in 1956 and in these scenes
with Katy Jurado we see both the savage side of Quinn, reminiscent of his
performance as Zampano in Fellini’s “La Strada”, as well as the vulnerability
he displayed in “Requiem for a Heavyweight.” I’m not saying “The Man from Del
Rio” is a film of that caliber, but it is fascinating to watch these two
performers bring a level of intensity to what could have been a run-of-the-mill
B-movie western or TV movie. Directed by Harry Horner, who mostly directed
episodes of TV series like “Gunsmoke” and “Lux Playhouse,” and written by
Richard Carr, who spent 30 years grinding out scripts for episodes of TV shows
from “Richard Diamond, Private Detective,” to “Johnny Staccatto,” “The Man from
Del Rio” manages to transcend its TV show origins and achieve something better.
It’s a fascinating film. Do Robles and Estella manage to find a place for
themselves in this world? Come on now. That would be telling.
“The Ride Back” is the second low budget Anthony Quinn
western presented on this KL Blu-Ray double bill, and is another story that
fits Frye’s definition of story as the quest for identity. In this case Quinn
plays Bob Callen, a half-Mexican outlaw wanted for the killing of a man in
Texas. William Conrad, best known as the heavyset star of the “Cannon” TV
series, plays Chris Hamish, the sheriff sent South of the Border to arrest him
and bring him back for trial. That’s a pretty commonplace storyline, except
that in this case Hamish is anything but the usual lawman. The fact is he
doesn’t really want to go to Mexico. As we find out in the ensuing story,
Hamish has been pretty much a failure all his life. He’s never been successful
at anything, has no friends, even his wife hates him. But he took the job to prove
once and for all that there was at least one thing he did right in his life. He
was going to bring a killer back from Mexico and make him stand trial.
Callen on the other hand has no such self-doubt. He’s got
a strong sense of who he is and what he can do. He’s popular and has friends
and when Hamish catches up with him, he finds him shacked up with a hot Mexican
beauty named Elena (Lita Milan), who’s so crazy about him she tries to kill
Hamish. Failing that she stalks them on the way back to the border and tries to
set her man free when they camp for the night. Hamish prevents that from
happening, puts her in the custody of a border guard and proceeds north with
Callen in shackles.
On the way they encounter Apaches and come upon a ranch
house where an elderly couple and their daughter are found dead. After they
bury the dead, Hamish discovers another survivor, another little girl (Ellen
Hope Monro) the twin of the dead one. Her purpose in the story is to show how
quickly she responds to Callen’s emotional personality, while running away from
Hamish, whose anger only frightens her. Needless to say there comes a point in
the story where the two men have to face themselves for the first time, and
make life or death decisions that affect not only themselves but the nameless
little girl as well. Are they really the men they think they are?
“The Ride Back” was a Robert Aldrich production, directed
by Allen H. Miner, veteran of hundreds of television series episodes, include
five episodes of the classic “Route 66” series. (In fact, do yourself a favor
and find copies of “Route 66” episodes “Cries of Persons Next to One,” starring
Michael Parks,” and “The Stone Guest,” possibly two of the best dramatic
stories to ever air on commercial television.) “The Ride Back” may sound a
little like “3:10 To Yuma” but it was originally written by Antony Ellis as a
script for the “Gunsmoke” radio series, which featured Conrad as Matt Dillon.
Conrad produced the film. It was obviously a passion project for him and Quinn
and Cannon give two strong, masculine performances. Lots of action and lots of
emotion.
This KL Studio Classics Blu-Ray has no bonus features
other than the original trailers and trailers for other KL releases. The black
and white prints for both films are very good, presented in 1080p with a 1.85:1
aspect ratio. The mono soundtracks are clear and tight. Recommended.
Production Designer Ken Adam, Producer Albert R. Broccoli and Director Lewis Gilbert on the original "007 Stage" at Pinewood Studios.
It was the biggest James Bond film to date. Released in 1977, Roger Moore's third 007 film, "The Spy Who Loved Me", restored the series to its former grandeur, following the anemic reaction to the previous film "The Man with the Golden Gun". Producer Albert R. Broccoli was making his first Bond movie without his former partner, Harry Saltzman, who ended their partnership after "Golden Gun". Broccoli was determined to go all-out and backed his plans by getting United Artists to provide the biggest budget the franchise had ever enjoyed. Broccoli made sure every penny was on the screen and constructed the largest sound stage in the world at Pinewood Studios. American Cinematographer magazine has long provided detailed behind-the-scenes coverage of the making of the Bond films. They have reprinted their on-set visit to Pinewood where contributing editor David Samuelson interviewed production designer Ken Adam and Director of Photography Claude Renoir.
Thanks to eagle-eyed Cinema Retro reader Ted Marsowicz for alerting to this video of vintage footage from the world premiere of "Dirty Harry" that took place at the Loews Theatre in San Francisco on December 22, 1971. The controversial film drew a large number of enthused Clint Eastwood fans along with some protesters who were less-than-enamored of the San Francisco Police Department.
Sir Alec Guinness receives an honorary Oscar for his distinguished career in 1980. Presenting the award is a somewhat nervous Dustin Hoffman (who can blame him?) Not surprisingly, Guinness is the epitome of class and grace.
A March 1945 notice in the Los Angeles Times reported that following his return to Hollywood
from a USO camp tour, Boris Karloff was to begin work on a RKO Radio production
titled Chamber of Horrors.The film was to be produced by Val Lewton, the
producer who had already brought to the screen such psychological-horrors as Cat People (1942), I Walked with a Zombie (1943) and Curse of the Cat People (1944).Karloff had already appeared in a pair of Lewton’s horror-melodramas for
RKO, The Body Snatcher (1945) and Isle of the Dead (1945).The actor had been enjoying his freelance status
of late.Recent castings in a series of
mad scientist films (1940-1942) for Columbia solidified Karloff’s reputation as
cinema’s preeminent boogeyman - even in roles sans grotesque makeup appliances.So the engagement of the actor for Chamber
of Horrors was properly trumpeted in a 1945 Variety notice as something of a given: “Karloff Goes Mad – Again.”
By August of 1945 the pre-production title of Chamber of Horrors was abandoned, the
film tentatively re-slated as A Tale of
Bedlam.It’s not entirely clear why
the earlier title was dropped.One can
speculate that RKO wished to differentiate their new film from the 1940 British
Edgar Wallace thriller of the same name.But this second title too was soon shortened, the resulting film eventually
released simply as Bedlam.
The origin of the film’s scenario was certainly original,
one inspired by a painting of the sixteenth century British artist William
Hogarth. In the years 1733-1734, Hogarth would brush a series of eight plates
depicting the plight of a doomed character’s commitment to London’s notorious
St. Mary’s of Bethlehem Asylum.The most
famous of these portraits was Plate #8, titled “The Rake’s Progress,” a
snapshot depicting madness on the ward’s floor.If Lewton’s films are best recalled for their psychological-horror
element, the scenario of Bedlam illustrates
the sorry fate of those irreversibly afflicted.Particularly the lurid, inhumane conditions to which they’re subjected following
internment.
In the case of Bedlam,
Lewton (under the nom de plume of
“Carlos Keith”) and director Mark Robson would craft a provocative, class-conscious
screenplay.Though the film is a historical-melodrama
in construction, the picture was marketed as a thinly disguised Boris Karloff
horror vehicle.Robson was a favorite collaborator
of Lewton’s.He helmed Karloff’s
previous film for RKO Radio, Isle of the
Dead, as well as two earlier Lewton productions, The Seventh Victim (1943) and Ghost
Ship (1943).The latter title, in
fact, appears here as one half of the double-feature Blu ray made available here
through the Warner Archive.
The budget for Bedlam
was kept reasonably low since the filmmakers were able to make use of an
existing set at RKO-Pathe’s studio in Culver City.Eagle-eyed admirers of the classic Ingrid
Bergman-Bring Crosby movie The Bells of St.
Mary (1945) will notice that film’s convent school setting has been
repurposed for the darker explorations of Bedlam.The existing set’s availability allowed the production
and costume designers on Bedlam some economic
freedom to properly – and lavishly - dress the costumes and settings.The film has a very elegant, high-budget feel
despite it’s small bankroll, and Robson does an admirable job of contrasting
the privileged world of London’s elite against the poor souls who suffer the
dank, dark asylum chamber of St. Mary’s.
The film takes place in the year 1761, an era cynically described
here as “The Age of Reason.”Karloff’s unpleasant
character, Master Sims, serves as the particularly cold and malevolent
Apothecary General of the asylum.He’s a
man without morals, interested only in satisfying his own selfish desires and
lining his pocket. To this end, Sims continually toadies and fawns to those of
regal or high political import, such as the corpulent and equally repulsive
Lord Mortimer (Billy House).To gain
favor with those of high position, Sims coldheartedly showcases “performances”
of interned “loonies” for amusement and monies.
Things start going bad for Sims when he’s challenged by
Nell Bowen (Anna Lee), a mistress of Mortimer’s whose earlier haughtiness and indifference
has softened by the grotesque showcases.Rightfully seeing Bowen as a threat to both his position and pocketbook,
Karloff does what he can to break the woman’s spirit.He cynically and falsely charges her with
derangement, leading to a commitment to the ward at St. Mary’s.Her only hope in breaking free – and continuing
her fight for the well-being and humane care for fellow inmates interred in this
“bestial world” – is through the interventions of a pacifist Quaker (Richard
Fraser) and a sympathetic, anti-Tory Whig politician Wilkes (Leland Hodgson).But the malevolent Sims will do all he can to
silence and destroy the determined woman to prevent that from ever happening.
The film’s monochrome cinematography looks great, Director
of Photography Nicholas Musuraca atmospherically capturing and juxtaposing the
elegant lifestyles of the rich and powerful against the sorrowful living
conditions of the mental and emotionally disturbed inmates of the asylum.Such attention to detail is particularly
impressive when considering the production of Bedlam was shot quickly, photography wrapping by the end of
September 1945.
The Hollywood trades would report shortly afterward that
Karloff was scheduled to appear in yet a third
film for the team of Lewton and Robson, Blackbeard,
presumably a swashbuckling pirate epic.RKO
executive producer Jack Gross was to supervise this new production, one scheduled
to commence filming in spring of 1946.That film would, sadly, not see the light of day.Lewton’s relationship with Gross was
reportedly an unfriendly one, and the box-office for Bedlam wasn’t what the studio had wished it to be.The revenue shortfall was partly attributed
to troublesome distribution issues.
Such issues aside, it was also true that public interest
in horror films had diminished. Such changes in taste had allowed Karloff to -
briefly – be free of playing roles that exploited his reputation as cinema’s
man of menace.This respite, however,
wouldn’t last long.The gentlemanly,
lisping actor was soon back to playing villains, mad scientists, and mysterious
Swamis before decade’s end - even terrorizing Bud Abbott and Lou Costello as an
acrobatic Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
Lewton would go on to produce four subsequent films
following Bedlam, but the filmmaker would
pass on in March of 1951, a somewhat uncelebrated figure in Hollywood.It wasn’t until the late 1960s that film
scholars would reassess his contributions to cinema, anointing several of his
earliest 1940’s efforts as classics of the horror genre.Robson’s career would continue unabated for
decades, scoring big successes with such films as Von Ryan’s Express (1965) and
Earthquake (1974).
Though this Blu ray’s second film lacks a star player of Boris
Karloff’s caliber, Robson’s The Ghost
Ship is certainly worth a watch. Despite its titillating supernatural
title, this film too is not a horror-vehicle.Tom Merriam (Russell Wade), a newly hired third mate to Captain Will Stone
(Richard Dix), suspects the cargo freighter’s commander is not only mentally
disturbed, but possibly homicidal.The
problem is no one on the crew or at the shipping company seems to agree with
him.This despite mounting evidence of the
Captain’s increasingly suspicious actions and demonstrably bizarre behavior.In some respects, The Ghost Ship is similar to Bedlam
as it suggests one remain wary of being too trustful of those holding positions
of power and prestige.Though a sixty-nine
minute B-film, The Ghost Ship is a
pretty effective effort, some even preferring it to Bedlam as it’s a bit more suspenseful in construction.
This Warner Archive Collection Region-Free Blu ray edition of Bedlam and The Ghost Ship is presented here in 1080p High Definition 16x9
1.37.1 and DTS-HD Master Mono Audio.While the set includes the trailers of both films, the only other special
feature offered is an informative and entertaining commentary courtesy of film
historian Tom Weaver in support of Bedlam.Those of us who already invested in Warner’s
nine-film DVD set The Val Lewton Horror
Collection (2005) might not choose to upgrade for this Blu two-fer, but
fans of Karloff and Lewton will be amply rewarded should they do so.This set not only features upgraded transfers
with great balance, but also Weaver’s usual comprehensive supporting commentary,
absent from the original DVD release.
Click here to order from the Cinema Retro Movie Store
When Robert Altman's "M*A*S*H" was released in 1970 it was a critical and boxoffice sensation. Audiences immediately recognized that, although the film was set in the Korean War, it was very obviously an analogy to the current controversial conflict in Vietnam. The film thrust Donald Sutherland and Elliott Gould into the top tier of leading actors and the movie spawned the classic TV series that was a phenomenon in its own right. The film's success, along with the simultaneous triumph of the more traditional war film "Patton", helped stem the red ink that was plaguing 20th Century Fox and played a key role in making the studio solvent once again.
Coppola and Al Pacino on location in Italy for "The Godfather" in 1971.
(Photo: Paramount.)
BY LEE PFEIFFER
You can't browse the web or pick up a magazine lately without encountering an interview with Francis Ford Coppola. With the 50th anniversary of "The Godfather" at hand, he's very much back in the spotlight after keeping a low profile for many years. Coppola, as we all know, we elevated from relative obscurity to international acclaim on the basis of "The Godfather" despite the fact that Paramount had little confidence in the film and didn't care for Coppola's artistic vision, which was most definitely not the boilerplate gangster flick the studio had in mind. The film won the Best Picture Oscar and became the highest grossing movie in history. Two years later, Coppola had a dual triumph with the release of "The Conversation" and "The Godfather Part II", another film he wasn't initially keen on being involved with. It made Hollywood history by being the first sequel to also win the Best Picture Oscar. Despite his new-found clout, Coppola had no takers when it came to his next visionary project, "Apocalypse Now", which was too bizarre in concept and execution for major studios to gamble on. So he financed it himself, hocking everything he had. The ordeal of making the film almost killed him but he triumphed in the end and now owns the rights to the movie. Now, in a fascinating and insightful interview with Zach Baron of GQ, Coppola discusses his plans for the future. The fact that he's 82 years-old hasn't diminished his passion for film making. He's slimmed down because he doesn't see many obese people still alive at his age. He's still determined to bring his next dream project to the big screen, a production titled "Megalopolis", which Coppola estimates will cost $120 million. Because the concept is so complex, Coppola cannot even satisfactorily describe it to Baron, but he's going to finance it himself because he knows no studio will put the funding up. Coppola lost $26 million on his beloved musical flop, "One from the Heart"- and that was in early 1980s dollars. It's inspiring to see that his determination to bring a dream to reality has not diminished. Click here to read the interview.
Cinema Retro has received the following announcement:
Of all the countless action adventure
TV shows that filled our screens in the 1960s, perhaps none of them have
fascinated audiences quite as much as The Prisoner. In 1967, Patrick McGoohan
stepped away from the colossal ITC hit show Secret Agent (or Danger Man in the
UK) and used his commercial clout to create a series that has thrilled and
baffled in equal measure for over fifty years.
He played a nameless secret agent who
is kidnapped during the titles sequence of the first episode, and wakes up in a
bizarre, pastel-hued location where everyone is known only by their number, and
where escape is made impossible by a malevolent bouncing ball.
In ‘The Village’, the authorities are
determined to discover why this new arrival resigned. However, No. 6 as he is
now known, is equally determined to keep all his secrets to himself and spends
17 episodes fighting to retain his individuality.
Equal parts action thriller, dystopian
science fiction, and political allegory, The Prisoner has held generations of
viewers in its thrall. Two such devotees, Chris Bainbridge and Cai Ross, became
hooked when Channel 4 in the UK broadcast the series in 1992 to mark its 25th
anniversary, and have stayed hooked ever since.
Now, Chris (a senior lecturer in
media) and Cai (a film writer and Cinema Retro contributor) have channeled
their obsession into a new podcast, Free For All, which has just completed its
first season.
Recorded in North Wales, a mere hour’s
drive from Portmeirion, the extraordinary Italianate village where The Prisoner
was filmed, Free For All makes an in-depth, passionate, irreverent and loving
evaluation of each of the 17 episodes.
Chris and Cai have already interviewed
the actress Jane Merrow, who played No. 6’s mind-reading ally in The Schizoid
Man. In the second season, we are promised interviews with acclaimed author of
The Official Prisoner Companion, Robert Fairclough, noted Prisoner authorities
from The Six of One appreciation society and The Unmutual, and It’s Your
Funeral No. 2 Derren Nesbitt (Where Eagles Dare).
Catch up with all the episodes of
Season 1 on Spotify, Apple or wherever you enjoy your podcast selections.
Search for Free For All / Prisoner.
Kino Lorber continues its alliance with niche market video label Scorpion Releasing with a Blu-ray edition of the largely forgotten 1969 action/adventure flick "The Devil's 8". The film typifies the kind of movie that simply doesn't exist any more: a low-budget production designed for fast playoff and modest profits. Back in the day, studios depended on movies such as these to be important to their bottom line. It's in stark contrast to today's film industry where seemingly every release is intended to be a blockbuster with production costs so high that some flicks have to gross close to a billion dollars to be considered financially successful. "The Devil's 8" is pretty much what you might expect simply by examining the sleeve. Typical of these types of movies, it presents a cast of reputable character actors who get meatier roles than they usually did in more prestigious productions. The script is yet another in a seemingly endless number of action films that was shamelessly inspired by the success of "The Dirty Dozen". Christopher George is Faulkner, who we are introduced to as a criminal in a work group of convicts doing time in a prison in the deep South. Along with his fellow prisoners, he's performing backbreaking work under the guard of cruel, armed overseers. Faulkner initiates a riot and he and seven other convicts manage to escape. They are soon "rescued" by government officials and learn that Faulkner is actually an FBI agent and the entire scenario was pre-planned. Turns out that the men are being recruited to work under Faulkner as part of an elaborate plot to bring down a local crime king named Burl, who is running a major illegal moonshine operation in the area. The FBI knows that he is being protected by high government and police officials who are paid off with a share of the loot. Faulkner offers them a deal: if they agree to undergo extensive training and help him infiltrate Burl's operation, he'll recommend that they be pardoned and freed. Sound familiar? It's but one of the familiar scenarios blatantly copied from "The Dirty Dozen". The convicts all agree and end up being trained to drive specially-equipped cars that have been reinforced to withstand all sorts of calamities. They must also become proficient in the use of machine guns and demolition work. As you might imagine in a film with a 98-minute running time, this is accomplished fairly quickly. Adding to the "Dirty Dozen" similarities, the men initially fight among each other until Faulkner employs a successful strategy whereby they bond together in their common hatred of him.
The group then pretends to be rival moonshiners who move in on Burl's territory, knowing he'll try to take them out.When their resiliency wins out over Burl's men, Faulkner convinces Burl to allow them to become partners in his operation in the hope of being shown where his illegal stills are located. Burl agrees, but no one is naive to believe the alliance will last. Faulkner and his men know that ultimately, Burl will have them killed. As played by Ralph Meeker, Burl is a stereotypical, cigar-chomping Southern good ol' boy with plenty of charisma to cover up the fact that he routinely uses murder to protect his operation. By the time the double-crosses kick in, Faulkner and his gang are ready to engage Burl and his private army in an all-out battle to the death. Faulkner's group is the usual blend of eccentrics we see in prison films. Each has his own distinct personality from the lone Black convict (Robert DoQui in the Jim Brown "Dirty Dozen" role) to Joe Turkel (reunited with Meeker after having both appeared in Stanley Kubrick's classic "Paths of Glory") as an impulsive team member whose actions threaten to undo the mission (think John Cassavetes in "The Dirty Dozen"). Other members of the group are played by a familiar assortment of character actors including one-time teen idol Fabian, Tom Nardini of "Cat Ballou" and Larry Bishop, who specialized in portraying hippies. Christopher George dominates the film as the tough-as-nails Faulkner. It is puzzling why he never became a bigger star, given his rugged good looks and strong on-screen personality. Despite starring in the modestly successful WWII TV series "The Rat Patrol", he rarely had a lead role in feature films. His biggest impressions were as the quirky villains in two John Wayne film, ""El Dorado" (1967) and "Chisum" (1970). Sadly, he passed away in 1983 at only 52 years-old. The rest of the cast performs well and each member provides some amusing moments. Leslie Parrish is inserted in the movie to provide some sex appeal as Burl's reluctant mistress.
"The Devil's 8" was directed and produced by "B" movie king Burt Topper. Much of the action is rather clunky in its staging and the limited budget results in some of the worst and most laughable rear screen projection effects in the history of the medium. But Topper was unpretentious in his goals and execution of his films. He just wanted to make fun movies for undemanding audiences. The score by Michael Lloyd and Jerry Styner, proteges of the wiz kid Mike Curb, provide a bouncy country score that is appropriate for the story but which rapidly grows weary due to its sheer monotony- and wait until you hear wacky theme song and lyrics by the Sidewalk Sounds that play over the end credits. "The Devil's 8" seems like one of those films that was specifically created to fill the bottom of a double-feature bill, but in fact, it was the main feature in most of its bookings, although in the UK, it was the second feature to "3 in the Attic". Interestingly, the movie proved to be a fertile training ground for screenwriters Willard Huyck and John Milius, who co-authored the script with James Gordon White. Within a few years, Huyck would pen the screenplay for George Lucas's masterwork "American Graffiti", while Milius would go on to write the screenplays for "Dirty Harry" and "Apocalypse Now" and find considerable success as a director. Thus, before we turn our noses up at lowbrow movies such as this, we should pause to remember how many considerable talents emerged from such productions.
The Blu-ray presents the film in the best state possible, given that there probably isn't an abundance of adequate master prints available. Although it's been produced from a new 2K master, the color is sometimes wishy-washy, but that just adds to the "B" movie appeal. Bonus features include a good recent interview with Larry Bishop, who discusses his friendship with Burt Topper and expresses respect for his talents. An original trailer and gallery of other Kino/Scorpion releases is also included. Kino and Scorpion have wisely retained the film's original poster artwork for the sleeve. It's a perfect example of how, in the Golden Age of movie marketing, the status of "B" movies could be considerably improved by employing dynamic graphics. Ironically, in today's industry, movies that cost hundreds of millions of dollars are promoted with poster artwork that is bland, boring and unmemorable. Just another reason to miss those bygone days of low-budget crowd-pleasers.
In this special 45-minute retrospective, Daniel Craig
candidly reflects on his 15 year adventure as James Bond. Including
never-before-seen archival footage from Casino Royale to No Time To Die, Craig
shares his personal memories in conversation with 007 producers, Michael G
Wilson and Barbara Broccoli.
“Binge-watching”
is a relatively recent addition to our vocabulary, thanks to 24/7 streaming TV
channels, but the concept itself isn’t new.On summer weekends in the
1970s, drive-in theatres offered the same opportunity for immersing yourself incheap, all-night entertainment.There, you’d binge not on
multiple episodes of “Peacemaker” or “Walking Dead” but instead on their
Disco-era equivalent: triple or quadruple features of B-Westerns, soft-core sex
comedies starring ex-Playboy Centerfolds, Kung-fu imports, and populist
vigilante dramas.
Back then, one film on the bill in scratchy, tinny
celluloid might have been “God’s Gun,” starring Lee Van Cleef.In the 1976 Western, now
available on Blu-ray from Kino Lorber, an outlaw gang led by Sam Clayton (Jack
Palance) sweeps into town, demolishes the saloon owned by pretty Jenny (Sybil Danning),
and kills a man at the poker table.Jenny is furious when the cowardly sheriff (Richard Boone) refuses to go
after the outlaws as they ride out.The local Catholic priest, Father John (Van Cleef), follows instead, and
brings back the murderer, Clayton’s nephew Jess, on his own.This provokes more mayhem as
the outlaws return, break Jess out of jail, gun down Father John, and go on a
further rampage of rape and murder.The sheriff still prefers to keep a low profile, so Jenny’s son Johnny
(Leif Garrett) sets off for Mexico.There the boy intends to find Father John’s twin brother Lewis, a
retired gunfighter, and bring him back to restore peace in Juno City.Those scenes give Leif Garrett
nearly as much screen time as Lee Van Cleef.This was probably welcomed by
the young actor’s rising fan base of thirteen-year-old girls in 1976.By Van Cleef’s leathery old
fans, not so much.
“God’s Gun” was designed to look like a Spaghetti
Western, still a viable if fading genre in the mid-'70s, even to the
extent of reuniting Lee Van Cleef with director Gianfranco Parolini (alias
“Frank Kramer”) from “Sabata” and “Return of Sabata.”Parolini employs many of the
stock techniques from his earlier Westerns, including sudden close-ups when
characters are shot, skewed camera angles from the victims’ perspective as they
fall dead, and noisy saloon brawls.In reality, the movie was produced in Israel by Menahem Golan and Yoram
Globus, who would later head the Cannon Group in the 1980s.Golan and Globus followed a
simple, commercially successful formula — take a popular genre, commission a
marginally functional script with plenty of action, headline two or three
well-known actors, hire an experienced B-list director, and keep the remaining
overhead as low as possible.Many
B-movies try to finesse their cheap budgets, but “God’s Gun” doesn’t bother.The Western costumes look like
remainders from the Party Store, Van Cleef is burdened with a bad toupee and
goatee, one exterior set doubles as two towns, and it’s painfully obvious that
neither Van Cleef nor Boone dubbed themselves in post-production.The secondary casting is
comparably haphazard.As
Alex Cox notes in his audio commentary for the Blu-ray, Palance’s skinny,
curly-haired bad guys look more like “a bunch of hippies” than bloodthirsty
frontier desperadoes.Not
that any of this would have mattered in your 2 o’clock stupor as you watched“God’s Gun” at the bottom of a
drive-in triple-feature in 1976.
Kino Lorber presents “God’s Gun” in a remastered 2K
edition at a 1.85:1 aspect.The
picture looks a little soft, but it’s probably the best the studio could do
with the materials at hand.Besides
Alex Cox’s droll, savvy commentary, the Blu-ray includes reversible cover art
from the original movie posters, as well as the vintage theatrical trailers for
“God’s Gun” and other Lee Van Cleef Westerns on Kino Lorber’s backlist.If you’re in a nostalgic mood
for a 1970s drive-in experience, you could do worse than select “God’s Gun” and
two or three others from the KL catalog. Augment with a couple of stale
hot dogs and watery Cokes, fill your TV room with the heady scent of week-old
popcorn, and then sit back and enjoy.
Ivan Reitman, the acclaimed director and producer who brought "National Lampoon's Animal House" and "Ghostbusters" to the screen, passed away on Saturday at age 75. This is a sentimental and moving tribute to his life and career.
When
Miller’s Crossing was released in 1990, we as an audience were still
trying to determine what the Coen brothers were all about. This, their third
feature film, was totally different from their previous movie, Raising
Arizona (1987), which was radically different from their debut title, Blood
Simple (1984). Raising Arizona was a wacky comedy. Miller’s
Crossing may have had more similarities to Blood Simple, being that
they are both neo-noir crime dramas with a gritty, hard edge but laced
with the now-familiar but then-surprisingly unique ingredient of Coen dark
humor. Still, Miller’s Crossing, being a period piece that takes place
during the Prohibition years, is a more elegant, and certainly more technically
accomplished, picture than Blood Simple. Sudden, brutal violence, though,
remains a trait of both movies.
In
an excellent supplemental interview with Joel and Ethan Coen that appears on
the new Blu-ray release from the Criterion Collection, the brothers discuss noir
influences in both literature and cinema with author/screenwriter Megan
Abbott, and the revelations are both illuminating and hilarious, as one would
expect from these guys. They admit that Miller’s Crossing likely owes
more to the works of Dashiell Hammett than, say, Raymond Chandler or James M.
Cain. They also cite the numerous film noir productions pouring out of
Hollywood in the late 1940s and early 50s as influences, although Crossing eschews
this stark black and white style for gorgeously rendered color cinematography
(by Barry Sonnenfeld) to create a more poetic, art-house rendition of a noir
crime drama.
For
the first half (or so) of the brothers’ career, the Director’s Guild rules
prohibited both names being credited as director, so Joel was usually credited
as director and Ethan was credited as producer, and both were credited as
screenwriters. Now the brothers share all three credits. When they were writing
Miller’s Crossing, they became stuck. The plot is complex, with a hint
of Hammett’s Red Harvest within in that the protagonist, Tom Reagan,
sets out to play two rival mobs against each other. When the writer’s block
became so fierce, the Coens put the script aside and went on to write what would
be their fourth film, Barton Fink, a script they finished in three weeks
(ironically, it’s about a screenwriter with writer’s block). That break allowed
them to come back to Miller’s Crossing afresh, and the screenplay was
completed.
In
viewing the film, one might think it’s about hats. Fedoras, to be precise. Just
about every male character wears one, and Tom, especially, takes great care to
always pick up his hat if it falls off or if he gets hit in the face (which
occurs multiple times during the course of the movie). In fact, the opening
credits focus on a hat on the ground in the forest, and the wind mystically
picks it up and carries it away from us—certainly a metaphor for the era
depicted in the story that is now gone with the wind. Hat tricks.
Tom
Reagan (Gabriel Byrne) is the right-hand man for Irish mob boss Leo O’Bannon
(Albert Finney), who “runs the (unnamed) town.†The mayor and police chief are
in his pocket. Rival Italian mob boss, Johnny Caspar (Jon Polito), desperately
wants to knock Leo off the throne, but his current concern is to bump off
Bernie Bernbaum (John Turturro), a bookie who has been selling information about
Caspar’s fight fixes. Leo won’t allow Caspar to kill Bernie because he's dating
Bernie’s sister, Verna (Marcia Gay Harden). Little does Leo know, but Tom and
Verna are also seeing each other behind his back. Caspar and his goons strike
at Leo, fail in an assassination attempt, but succeed in knocking Leo off his
pedestal. Now Caspar is in charge and the mayor and police chief are in his pocket.
Leo and Tom fall out over the Verna situation, so Tom goes to work for Caspar.
The Bernie problem is still a thing, so to show his loyalty to his new boss,
Tom must reluctantly take out Bernie. To reveal more would spoil the twists and
turns the tale takes.
The
cast, especially Finney and Harden, are excellent. Jon Polito and John
Turturro, however, steal the film with over-the-top performances that are
Kubrickian in nature. Steve Buscemi makes his first appearance in a Coen brothers’
picture in a small but memorable fast-talking scene. Look for Frances
McDormand, making a cameo as the mayor’s secretary, as well as Coen brothers
friend Sam Raimi as a gunman.
Carter
Burwell’s music is a counterpoint to the action. Burwell had the idea to
develop a plaintive, melodic Irish folk tune as the theme; the Coens at first
weren’t sure about that, but once they heard it, they agreed it was the way to
go.
All
of that said, this reviewer finds Miller’s Crossing to be a good, but
not great, entry in the Coen brothers’ canon. The overly complicated plot is a
little difficult to follow without repeated viewings. It’s also a challenge to
empathize with Tom Reagan, which may be due to actor Byrne, who elicits little
warmth in the role. Nevertheless, the picture creates a mood and visual beauty
that are striking.
The
Criterion Collection’s new 2K digital restoration, approved by Sonnenfeld and
the Coens, looks marvelous. It comes with a 5.1 surround soundtrack mix,
presented in DTS-HD Master Audio. There are English subtitles for the hearing
impaired.
There
are wonderful supplements on the disk. The aforementioned interview with the
Coens is priceless. There are also new interviews with Gabriel Byrne and John
Turturro, Carter Burwell and music editor Todd Kasow, Sonnenfeld, production
designer Dennis Gassner, and vintage featurette interviews from 1990 with the
cast. The booklet contains an essay by film critic Glenn Kenny.
Miller’s
Crossing is
for fans of the Coen brothers, certainly, as well as cast members Byrne,
Finney, Harden, and Turturro. And if you’re an aficionado of mobster
flicks—period or modern—then Miller’s Crossing is the hat trick for you.
With the passing of each year, movie lovers must come to grips with the loss of so many film industry professionals. However, 2021 was especially harsh when it came to alumni of the Western movie genre. The YouTube channel A Word on Westerns presents a moving tribute to 26 talented professionals who were associated with the genre. Sadly, they all left us in 2021 but their memories will live forever through their fine work.
The niche market video label Code Red continues its distribution alliance with Kino Lorber, which is a very good thing for lovers of obscure retro movies. Case in point: "Story of a Woman", a 1970 drama that I will admit I was unaware of until receiving a review screener. The film is a truly international affair, shot in Europe by Italian director/writer/producer Leonardo Bercovici and starring two American male leads and Sweden's Bibi Andersson as the female protagonist. Andersson was making a name for herself in English-language cinema after having appeared in several of Ingmar Bergman classics. She plays Karin Ullman, an adventurous young Swedish woman who has left her home to study piano at a music conservatory in Rome in 1963. Here, she meets cute with Bruno Cardini (James Farantino), a hunky and charismatic medical student who has the good fortune of inadvertently causing a fender bender with Karin's car in one of the city's notorious traffic jams. All is immediately forgiven once Karin realizes she is hopelessly smitten with Bruno, and vice-versa. Soon, they are enjoying a Hollywood-like romance and Karin considers making their relationship permanent. That is, until she receives a visit from a middle-aged woman, Liliana (Annie Giradot), who explains she is Bruno's long-suffering wife. She says he has long been a serial philanderer and user of women. Liliana says he is now tired of suffering in silence. It seems Bruno is dependent upon her considerable wealth and she has given him an ultimatum: stop having affairs or lose your financial lifeline. Heartbroken and emotionally shattered, Karin leaves Rome to return to her parent's lake house on the outskirts of Stockholm. Here she finds her family and friends are able to provide her with solace. Things improve dramatically when she once again meets cute with a handsome man, this one American David Frasier. He's the polar opposite of Bruno: he's middle-aged and is the very definition of responsibility, as he is attached to the U.S. embassy in Rome as a high level diplomat. Soon, he and Karin progress from being lovers to a married couple. Life is fun and glamorous for Karin, as she attends parties with international dignitaries and the couple live a relatively high life style. Karin gives birth to a daughter and they move briefly to London where David has been assigned before returning to Rome. Here, things get messy when Bruno has a couple of coincidental meetings with her (seemingly unlikely given the vastness of the Eternal City.) Bruno explains what the viewer has already seen: he and Liliana had a terrible argument while in the car and a resulting accident cost Aliana her life. Bruno is now single and is regarded as one of Italy's top professional soccer players. In fact, he is a national idol. He comes across as repentant and sorry for the pain he previously caused Karin- but makes it clear he wants to resume their relationship. Karin prides herself on being a loyal wife and a good mother. She consistently rejects Bruno's advances...until she ultimately begins to weaken.
In the quaint vernacular of when "Story of a Woman" was made, it would probably have been referred to as "a woman's picture". There is no doubt it's a soap opera, but it's a surprisingly compelling one thanks to an engrossing script and interesting characters. The situation Karin finds herself in poses a question that many people have found it difficult to deal with: is it possible to learn to "unlove" someone from your past, even if you know that seeing them again is wrong in every logical respect? Karin begins to see Bruno to talk things out but David finds out and makes it clear that their marriage is on the verge of a breakdown. However, a darker side of Bruno begins to emerge, making Karin reevaluate her future.
The movie boasts some fine performances. Bibi Andersson is very good indeed as the woman caught in a love triangle. She sincerely loves both men in her life but realizes that once she married David, the honorable decision would be to remain loyal to him. However, her past with Bruno appeals the selfish aspects of every human being's personality. As her much-distressed and ever-tolerant husband, Robert Stack is excellent. Stack was generally relegated to bland characters in big screen dramas, probably because of his long-running role as the humorless Eliot Ness in "The Untouchables". Thus, it's good to see him playing a multi-faceted, interesting personality. The scene in which he loses his seemingly limitless tolerance for Karin's indecisiveness results in him having an emotional eruption. The scene provides a showcase for the finest acting I've seen from Stack, who would get a different kind of exposure for his comedic talents in "Airplane!" (1980). It should be mentioned that Stack and Andersson share a rather steamy love scene that is erotic, yet tasteful. It was fairly daring for two major stars at the time. Annie Giradot also makes an impact in her limited role as Bruno's long-suffering wife. Alas, James Farantino doesn't fare as well. He gives a perfectly fine performance but its undercut by director Bercovici's decision to have him play this Italian character without the slightest attempt to provide even a quasi-Italian accent. Thus, Farantino's Bruno sounds like he just dropped in from Kansas. As screenwriter, Bercovici could have solved the problem with a minor script rewrite in which Bruno would have explained he grew up in America and moved to Rome later in life. Instead, Farantino is able to look the part of an hunky native of Rome but every time he opens his mouth, it detracts from his performance.
The film features some lush locations, nicely photographed by Piero Portolupi and there's a fine romantic score provided by young up-and-comer John Williams. The Blu-ray presents an excellent transfer that helps reaffirm the film's somewhat exotic appeal. The only bonus feature is a trailer. "Story of a Woman" is undoubtedly sudsy in terms of the melodrama but its consistently engrossing throughout.
Duke Wayne sure didn't need any pointers when it came to throwing a punch, but even he wouldn't stand up to director John Ford. The behind the scenes photo is from one of Ford's most underrated films, his Civil War adventure "The Horse Soldiers" (1959). Co-star Constance Towers wisely keeps out of the way.
Cinema Retro has received the following press release:
Arriving
March 8, 2022, Brand-New Disc Includes Exclusive Behind-the-Scenes Footage and
Director Commentary
The highly anticipated follow-up to the beloved classic Coming
To America makes its Blu-ray and DVD debut when COMING 2 AMERICA arrives
March 8, 2022 from Paramount Home Entertainment.
Akeem and Semmi are back for a brand-new, hilarious adventure!
In COMING 2 AMERICA, newly crowned King Akeem (Eddie Murphy) and
his trusted confidante Semmi (Arsenio Hall) traverse the globe from their great
African nation of Zamunda to the borough of Queens, New York when Akeem learns
he has a long-lost son in the United States. In addition to Eddie Murphy
and Arsenio Hall, the outrageously entertaining film features an incredible
cast including James Earl Jones, John Amos, Louie Anderson, Shari Headley,
Wesley Snipes, Tracy Morgan, and Leslie Jones.
The COMING 2 AMERICA Blu-ray includes commentary by
director Craig Brewer (Dolemite Is My Name, “Empireâ€) and an exclusive
featurette entitled “From Queens to Zamunda,†which includes never-before-seen
footage and interviews.
The COMING 2 AMERICA DVD includes the feature film
in standard definition.
Writing on the Literary Hub web site, Adam Scovell presents a fascinating look at how Henry James's classic 1898 novella "The Turn of the Screw" came to inspire numerous film and television adaptations that continue to the present day. Understandably, Scovell devotes a good deal of background information on director Jack Clayton's brilliant and unsettling 1961 feature film version, which is titled "The Innocents" and starred Deborah Kerr in an Oscar-worthy performance. (Don't be put off by the over-the-top aspects of the trailer, which emulated a William Castle "B" schlock horror flick.) Click here to read.
Click here to order Criterion Blu-ray edition of "The Innocents" from Amazon.
Cinema Retro's 18th season begins with issue #52, which is now shipping worldwide.
Highlights of this issue include:
"The Sand Pebbles"- James Sherlock explores the trials and tribulations behind the filming of Robert Wise's epic film which gained Steve McQueen his only Oscar nomination.
"Dr. Syn: Alias the Scarecrow"- Dave Worrall's in-depth history of the character in film and literature, concentrating on the evolution of the Walt Disney three-part TV episodes starring Patrick McGoohan which would later emerge as a feature film.
"Tarzan's Greatest Adventure"- Nick Anez argues it's the best Tarzan film ever and his analysis might convince you to agree with him. Gordon Scott starred as the King of the Jungle and te gang of villains included young Sean Connery.
"The Pink Panther"- John LeMay presents the fascinating history behind the first film to showcase Peter Sellers as Inspector Clouseau.
"The Golden Lady"- Tim Greaves shines the spotlight on the little-seen and little-remembered spy flick that featured a female James Bond-type character- with Desmond Llewelyn in the supporting cast!
"The Bad News Bears"- Robert Leese celebrates the hit comedy with the unlikely teaming of Walter Matthau and Tatum O'Neal
"The Crimson Kimono"- Lee Pfeiffer covers director Sam Fuller's controversial and underrated crime thriller that was packed with racial conflicts.
Plus regular columns by Raymond Benson, Gareth Owen, Darren Allison and Brian Hannan.
(Please note: this issue will not be available for individual purchase until some time in January, after all subscriptions have been filled.)
Subscribe or renew your subscription to get this issue as well as issues #53 and #54 when they are printed in 2022.
One
of the more popular Hollywood movies of 1954 was The Country Girl,
written and directed by George Seaton, adapted from a stage play by Clifford
Odets. The Academy liked it well enough to nominate it for Best Picture,
Director, Actor (Bing Crosby), Black and White Art Direction, and Black and
White Cinematography (John F. Warren). The movie won Oscars for Actress
(Grace Kelly) and for the Adapted Screenplay by Seaton.
The
Academy sure loves it when a beautiful actress dispenses with any hint of
glamour and presents herself in a dowdy, plain, or even “ugly†appearance. And
while Grace Kelly could never not be beautiful, her role as Georgie
Elgin is not known to emphasize her timeless attractiveness and sensuality.
Furthermore, she delivers an outstanding performance that was good enough to surpass
the likes of Judy Garland (A Star is Born), Dorothy Dandridge (Carmen
Jones), Audrey Hepburn (Sabrina), and Jane Wyman (Magnificent
Obsession). Whether or not Kelly deserved the awardr over these four equally
superb performances is one of those forever debatable Oscar quandaries.
Besides
Bing Crosby and Grace Kelly, The Country Girl features a fine
performance by William Holden, who is really the protagonist of the film (oddly
placed at third billing). The movie is basically a triangle between the trio,
with Kelly’s Georgie as the object of both conflict and adoration between the
two men.
Bernie
Dodd (Holden) is a successful Broadway theater director, whose new musical, The
Land Around Us, has lost its leading man after one week of rehearsals.
Scrambling to replace him, Dodd wants Frank Elgin (Crosby), but producer Philip
Cook (Anthony Ross) objects. Elgin is allegedly a washed up alcoholic who could
no longer carry an entire production. Nevertheless, Dodd gets his way and Elgin
is hired. It soon becomes apparent that Elgin is completely dependent on his
younger wife, Georgie (Kelly), to give him moral support, prop him up, keep him
in line, and dictate what he should do or not do. Dodd interprets the couple’s
relationship as detrimental to Elgin, seeing Georgie as the reason for the
actor’s decline. Elgin presents a different position—that Georgie depends on him
and that he could never leave her. Thus, Georgie accompanies her husband to
rehearsals, interferes in production decisions, and annoys both the director
and producer in the process. Things come to a head when Elgin succumbs to the
pressure and starts to drink again. What happens next would spoil the story,
but suffice it to say there is much melodrama, a switcheroo of affections, and backstage
intrigue.
Oh—and
it wouldn’t be a Bing Crosby vehicle without some songs, so musical numbers
were added to the script by Ira Gershwin (lyrics) and Harold Arlen (music) to
accompany Victor Young’s somewhat overwrought score.
The
Country Girl is
pure melodrama, for sure, and all three actors give it their all. Crosby is
quite effective as the pathetic and insecure Elgin, Holden is dynamic and
forceful as Dodd, and, yes, Kelly is full of surprises as the dowdy woman who
in reality is stronger than either man. If anything, the picture is worth
seeing for the three actors that carry it.
While
any motion picture should be evaluated within the context of when it was made
and released, The Country Girl does suffer from being dated in its
sensibilities about marriage and the relationships between men and women. Audiences
today might cringe at the blatant misogyny, especially exuding from Holden’s
character. (In referring to wives, he says they “all start out as Juliets and
wind up as Lady Macbeths.â€) In short, the movie emphasizes the old adage that
“behind every man stands a (fill in the blank) woman.â€
Additionally,
there is a kiss—and subsequent confession of affection—that occurs at a crucial
point in the story that is so unexpected, out of the blue, and unbelievable,
that one wonders if some sort of foreshadowing or clue to this development was
missed. And therein lies the biggest flaw of the film.
Imprint’s
new 1080p high definition presentation in Blu-ray looks quite good, and
Warren’s cinematography wonderfully captures the light and dark of a Broadway
theater (Georgie: “There’s nothing quite so mysterious and silent as a dark
theater, a night without a star.â€) The feature comes with a new audio
commentary by professor and film scholar Jason A. Ney. A 1987 hour-long
documentary, Grace Kelly: An American Princess, is a welcome supplement,
along with a photo gallery and the theatrical trailer.
The
Country Girl is
for fans of Grace Kelly, for sure, as well as Bing Crosby and William Holden,
for fans of Broadway theater storylines, and of 1950s Hollywood melodramas.
It’s a story line that’s been used in dozens of Western
films. Two long-time friends who grew up together, later split up and take
different paths—one follows the straight and narrow and becomes a lawman and
the other turns into an outlaw. Fate decrees that one day they will have to
meet in a showdown. It usually ends with the outlaw lying face down in the dirt
and the sheriff sad and bitter about it all, wondering if it was all really
worth it.
In 1973 two films with that plot were released within a
month of each other. In May, Universal released “Showdown†starring Rock Hudson
and Dean Martin, the last film directed by veteran helmsman George Seaton
(“Miracle on 34th St.,†“Airportâ€) and the last western that Martin
(“Sons of Katie Elder,†“Rio Bravoâ€) would star in. A month later, in June, MGM
released “Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid†directed by Sam Peckinpah, starring
Kris Kristofferson and James Coburn. It would be Peckinpah’s last turn at a
western. While the two films have similar stories, they couldn’t be more
different in tone, style, and execution. “Garrett†is a revisionist masterpiece
that, along with Peckinpah’s “The Wild Bunch,†changed the western forever. “Showdown,â€
on the other hand, is a remnant of, and a kind of elegy for, a bygone era of Hollywood
moviemaking. Kino Lorber has released a Blu-Ray edition of the film.
“Showdown†tells
the story of Chuck Jarvis (Rock Hudson) and Billy Massey (Dean Martin), two
guys who grew up together in Cumbres, New Mexico. Chuck is the straight and
narrow one, and Billy is something of a gambler and a pretty fair hand with a
gun. He likes to play the ocarina too. They get along fine until Kate (Susan
Clark), who runs an eatery in town, enters the scene. Screenwriter Theodore
Taylor throws a touch of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid into the mix by
showing them in a series of flashbacks as three good friends, hanging out,
enjoying each other’s company, just like Butch, Sundance and Etta. But when
Chuck and Kate decide to get married, Billy packs up his ocarina and splits the
scene, eventually winding up on the old Outlaw Trail. Chuck and Kate settle
down on the ranch that they bought with money Billy won in a sharpshooter
contest, and Chuck eventually becomes the sheriff in Cumbres.
Years later, unaware that Chuck is now the Sheriff in
Cumbres, Billy rides back into the territory as part of a gang that robs a
train. There’s trouble when the gang divides up the loot and they try to cheat
Billy out of his fair share. Billy is forced to kill the brother of gang leader
Art Williams (Donald Moffett) and rides off with all the loot. Williams vows to
track him down. Back in Cumbres, when Chuck is told that Billy has robbed a
train he reluctantly sets out with two Indian guides to track him down. While
he’s gone, Billy shows up at the ranch. Kate still has a warm spot for old
lovable Billy, and she hides him from the Williams gang until Chuck gets back.
In an odd bit of dialogue for a western, at one point Billy tells Kate he
thinks she thinks that he doesn’t like her. Kate winces a bit.
“It isn’t that,†she says. “I just stepped in between Damon
and Pythias.â€
“Who are they?†Billy asks.
Kate replies: “A vaudeville act. They play the better
saloons.â€
The reference to the Greek legend about two friends who
face the ultimate test of friendship seems to go over Billy’s head, but given Dean
Martin’s own personal experience of a long term friendship with a certain
famous comedian, and the rumors that the reason they split up was because their
wives didn’t get along, the theme strikes a strange chord. When Chuck tracks
Billy back to his own ranch, the friends are briefly reunited. They concoct a
half-baked plan that they think will keep Billy from going to prison and the
next morning Chuck takes him to town and locks him up temporarily.Things might have worked out except for an
ambitious prosecutor (John McLiam) who is determined to see Billy hang.
Lazlo Kovacs’s cinematography is magnificent. Using
Todd-AO 35 cameras, he fills the screen with wide vistas, bright, colorful
sweeps of the northern New Mexico scenery, with the Sierra Madre Mountains
looming in the distance. Every frame, except some interior shots, is in deep
focus with distant mountains and foreground figures in clear, sharp detail. The
2.35:1 aspect ratio makes you feel like you can breathe deeper just looking at
it. This is why Blu-Rays matter. This film plays quite often on the Encore Westerns
Channel. But it is cropped to 1.85:1. In that format, it makes no impression at
all.
The climax of the film is set in a forest fire, with
Chuck and Billy and the outlaw gang in pursuit of each other, finally ending in
a totally burnt-out, black and charred landscape. What more fitting setting for
the death of a genre? It can be argued that the traditional western declined and fell during this period of filmmaking. “Showdown†was one of the final casualties of the genre, however there would still be a few classics released including "The Outlaw Josey Wales and "The Shootist".
Kino Lorber’s transfer of “Showdown†to Blu-Ray is
excellent. This is a disc you want to own if you just want to show off what
your big-screen 4k High Definition TV can do. Colors are rich. None of that
monochrome palette that Ridley Scott is so fond of. The sound on the disc is
mono, which is too bad. David Shire’s score, featuring a repeated theme played
on an ocarina, is wistful, alternately peppy and lonesome. Extra features
include an informative audio commentary by film historians Howard S. Berger and
Steve Mitchell, and a trailer for “Showdown†and half a dozen other features
available on KL discs.
The
decade of the 1950s is generally considered to be director Alfred Hitchcock’s
most glorious period, stocked with some of his acknowledged masterpieces of
cinema (Strangers on a Train, Rear Window, Vertigo, North
by Northwest, etc.). Those ten years didn’t begin so promisingly, though.
In
the late 1940s, Hitchcock had finally broken away from the smothering contract
he had under producer David O. Selznick, and he had set out with a partner to
form his own production company, Transatlantic. The company made two box office
losers—Rope (1948, a failure despite being quite a good movie), and Under
Capricorn (1949, no question one of the filmmaker’s weakest pictures).
Transatlantic bombed, but Hitchcock continued to work with Warner Brothers, the
studio that had distributed these two titles.
Stage
Fright was
made at Elstree Studios in England and employed an all British crew and cast except for
the two female leads, Jane Wyman (under contract at Warners) and veteran star
Marlene Dietrich. The male leads were filled by reliable Michael Wilding (who
had been in Under Capricorn) and Richard Todd. Stealing the movie in a
supporting role, however, is Alastair Sim, the great comic actor who was very
popular at the time. Oddly, Sim’s first name is misspelled as “Alistair†in the
opening and closing credits of the film!
Eve
(Wyman) is a budding young actress, a student at the Royal Academy of Dramatic
Art, whose friend, Jonathan (Todd) has found himself in a pickle. Eve is sweet
on Jonathan, although the relationship is mostly platonic, for Jonathan is in a
relationship with the flamboyant star of the stage, Charlotte Inwood
(Dietrich). The problem there is that Charlotte is married… until her husband
is lying dead on the floor of their house, allegedly killed by Charlotte
herself. Jonathan has helped her cover up the crime, but he believes he was
seen by Charlotte’s housekeeper, Nellie (Kay Walsh). Jonathan, now the prime
suspect, gets Eve to hide him from the police, so Eve enlists her father, the
“Commander†(Sim) to help. Despite the Commander’s doubts as to what really
happened, he dutifully works with his daughter and Jonathan to avoid suspicion
from Detective Smith (Wilding). As the plot unfolds, Eve decides to do some
investigating herself and manages to bribe Nellie to go away for a while, and
Eve takes her place as Charlotte’s new Cockney housekeeper, “Doris.†Things get
complicated when Eve begins to fall for Detective Smith (and he for her). Eventually,
of course, the truth is discovered and the real killer is pursued through a
theatre building in grand Hitchcock style.
When
Stage Fright was first released, it received some criticism because the
film begins with a flashback narrated by Jonathan, explaining what happened at
Charlotte’s house with footage that “re-enacts†the crime. It’s not a spoiler
to say that this flashback turns out to be untrue. Hitchcock deliberately lets
us believe events occurred, when they really didn’t. Audiences and critics at
the time felt this was something of a cheat. However, this is a perfect example
of a trend that has cropped up in film and mystery novels quite often in the
last twenty years—the “unreliable narrator.†Is Stage Fright the first
instance in which the unreliable narrator device was used in cinema? Perhaps
not, but in 1950, it was perceived as new and unsettling. Now, this device is
fairly commonplace. It just goes to show how Hitchcock really was ahead of his
time!
That
said, Stage Fright is only middle-tier Hitchcock. It never reaches the
highs of the later masterpieces of the 50s mentioned earlier. The plot is
rather unbelievable, especially when Eve pretends to be the Cockney maid and
becomes a sleuth on her own. Wyman is fine in the role, but one questions her common
sense in sticking with Jonathan and his legal problems. The great Marlene Dietrich
performs exactly how one would expect… as the great Marlene Dietrich. She
exudes a deliciously sinister subtext to her actions, but we can see right
through it from the beginning. Richard Todd is never believable as an innocent
man, and this is a stickler. However, Alastair Sim is such a delight as Eve’s
crafty father that the movie is worth a watch just for him. Even weak Hitchcock
can be good fun.
Warner
Archive’s new Blu-ray release is a port-over from their previous DVD edition
from several years ago. The feature film looks marvelous in glorious black and
white high definition, and the London and English countryside locations are a
treat. The supplement “making of†documentary is also ported over from the DVD
release, along with the theatrical trailer.
Stage
Fright is
for fans of Alfred Hitchcock, Jane Wyman or Marlene Dietrich, and especially Alastair
Sim.
Click here to order the Region-Free Blu-ray from the Cinema Retro Movie Store.
Monica Vitti, one of Italy's most honored film stars, passed away on Tuesday at the age of 90. Known for her collaborations and love affair with director Michelangelo Antonioni, Vitti became one of the "it" actresses of the 1960s and her image graced the covers of countless magazines. In the 1960s, Vitti was perfectly poised to be part of the mod generation and was widely photographed in the latest fashions. She was also enlisted in the spy movie craze of the period, starring in the title role in "Modesty Blaise" and in Mario Bava's "Danger: Diabolik". The above video, created in 2021, provides interesting insights about her life and career. For more, click here.
The
early 1970s was a time of experimentation and risk-taking in Hollywood. Studios
were more willing to allow filmmakers to take a project and run with it, just
to see if something thrown at the wall would stick. After all, this was the
period of “New Hollywood,†maverick young directors just out of film school,
and pushing the envelope when it came to what was permissible on screen since
the Production Code was gone and the relatively new movie ratings were in
place.
Playboy
Enterprises got into the movie making business in the early 70s (see Cinema
Retro Vol. 2, issue #5 from 2006 for the magazine’s exclusive interview with
Hugh M. Hefner about Playboy’s film productions). After the critical success of
Roman Polanski’s Macbeth (1971), Playboy produced The Naked Ape (1973),
loosely adapted from Desmond Morris’ 1967 best-selling non-fiction book.
Morris’
book was an entertaining anthropological study of man’s evolution from primates
and how social norms and mating rituals, especially between males and females
for procreation, have more or less never changed since prehistoric times.
Morris had relatively nothing to do with the film adaptation, for the
filmmakers decided to make a “hip†comedy out of the concepts in the book,
illustrating how “unchanging evolution†still dictated man’s behavior.
The
idea probably looked good on paper. Perhaps the box office success of Woody Allen’s
loose, comedic adaptation of Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex (1972),
which was also parodied a best-selling non-fiction book, was an inspiration. However,
The Naked Ape, directed by avant-garde filmmaker Donald Driver, does not
possess the wit and brilliance of a Woody Allen or a Mel Brooks, who also might
have done wonderful things with the material. Instead, The Naked Ape is
a head-scratching curiosity that might have played somewhat well as a “midnight
movie†for college-age audiences in altered states of consciousness.
Johnny
Crawford (who had played Mark McCain in the TV series The Rifleman, now
grown up and looking hunky and handsome) is Lee, a college student infatuated
with Cathy (Victoria Principal, in an early film appearance), a tour guide in a
natural history museum. Through a series of fantasy vignettes, both live action
and animated, the film takes us through the couple’s courtship, marriage, and
subsequent relationship, as well as Lee’s stint in the army and the pair’s
experience in school (they are in an “erotic literature†class together). The
animations, usually narrated by Cathy, interrupt the flow of the loose storyline
to comment, in a humorous fashion, on the proceedings from an anthropological
viewpoint.
Both
Crawford and Principal are attractive on screen (yes, there is nudity; after
all, this is a Playboy Production), but the script is, frankly, subpar. While the
actors do their best, the movie is just not as clever as it thinks it is. The
animations, made by Murakami-Wolf Studios, are somewhat interesting (Frank
Zappa’s album cover artist, Calvin Schenkel, is one of the animators). Vocal
rock songs by Jimmy Webb help liven up the action.
This
reviewer became friends with Johnny Crawford (who passed away in 2021) over the
years. Crawford was always a kind, soft-spoken gentleman who had numerous
stories about his Hollywood years, such as having a studio mailbox right next
to Joan Crawford’s and the two of them often accidentally receiving each
other’s mail. Whenever The Naked Ape was brought up in conversation,
Crawford would simply shake his head, roll his eyes, and smile.
(Photo courtesy of Raymond Benson.)
Kino
Lorber has distributed Code Red’s presentation of The Naked Ape in 1080p
high definition, and that distinctive 1970s film stock looks good enough. There
are English subtitles for the hearing impaired and a theatrical trailer, but
otherwise no other supplements.
The
Naked Ape is
for fans of Johnny Crawford and/or Victoria Principal, early 70s experimental
films aimed at the college crowd, and, ahem, amateur anthropologists.
Here is a rare 1969 documentary created by legendary producer Darryl F. Zanuck to commemorate the 25th anniversary of the D-Day invasion. Zanuck, of course, was the driving force behind Fox's 1962 epic blockbuster "The Longest Day", which had been a dream project for Zanuck. In this documentary, which is derived from a French print, Zanuck returns to the beaches with a film crew to discuss the monumental battle in which Allied forces from the U.S., Great Britain and Canada, along with Free French troops, defied formidable weather and heavy German resistance to breach Hitler's "Fortress Europe" and ultimately free the continent. The result, of course, was the beginning of the end of the Nazi regime and the eventual emergence of Germany as a free nation and thriving democracy. The documentary contains many clips from "The Longest Day". (Thanks to Cinema Retro reader Ted Marsowicz for alerting us to this video.)
