BY LEE PFEIFFER

In his review of "Jack of Diamonds", New York Times film critic Bosley Crowther dismissed it as "strictly low-grade "Topkapi". The 1967 crime caper stars George Hamilton as handsome and inanimate as a mannequin found in the window of a posh 5th Avenue department store. At least no one can ever accuse him of putting the "ham" in "Hamilton". Hamilton plays Jeff Hill, the world's most notorious cat burglar. When we first see him, he's using a rope and pulley to enter the penthouse apartment of Zsa Zsa Gabor (!), who plays herself. While Zsa is sleeping, Hill manages to abscond with her valuable jewels- but, ever the gentleman, he leaves her a message telling her how much he enjoys her films (which means Hill has immaculate taste in jewels but not-so-great taste when it comes to the cinema.) Ms. Gabor is one of several real-life celebs who play themselves in the film. The others are Carroll Baker and Lili Palmer, each of who are victimized by the elegant, gentlemanly thief. The cameos are  a pretty transparent gimmick to add a little more glamour to the production, which was produced by a West German film company and released theatrically in the USA by MGM. 

Hill lives a Hefner-like lifestyle in a lavish mansion replete with all the trappings including a gymnasium complete with a trapeze that he uses to stay in shape so he can utilize his signature style of entering high buildings using the tactics of a human fly. We soon learn he has a mentor who goes by the name of "Ace" (Joseph Cotten), as he was once the world's greatest jewel thief and was known as "The Ace of Diamonds". He still acts as a wise sage for Hill, advising him on the dos and don'ts of certain potential capers. Hill soon finds that he has a competitor for some of the same jewels. Turns out it is a female cat burglar, Olga (Marie Laforet), who has her own mentor, Nicolai (Maurice Evans), a dapper dandy who also was once a famed jewel thief. Nicolai has concocted a plan for the ultimate theft and wants Olga and Hill to join forces to carry it out with he and Ace acting as advisers. This gives Hill plenty of time to make time with his new sexy partner but there is virtually no chemistry between Hamilton and Laforet, partly because her character is largely window dressing and is not fleshed out in the slightest in terms of being given a background. Nicolai's plan requires stealing some famed jewels from a seemingly impenetrable museum but just to learn their precise location it will require the cat burglars to break into a safe located in the headquarters of the Paris police. Achieving this daring goal, the foursome then turn to the main event: the robbery of the jewels. They are racing against time against an international police organization (presumably based on INTERPOL) that is doggedly trying to track them down and stop future robberies. The organization's point man is Von Schenk (Wolfgang Preiss), a charismatic German who pursues them with the zeal of Inspector Javert. 

"Jack of Diamonds" is yet another film from the Sixties that looked anemic in its day but probably plays better now. The film tries to present some glamorous European locales but much of it is achieved through the over-used stock footage that MGM had in its vaults at the time. (A scene supposedly shot atop the Pan Am building in New York features what may be the worst rear screen projection effect I've ever seen.) Still, the offbeat feel of the film is somewhat enjoyable and the script allows a Bondian air in which the pursuer and the pursued match wits while enjoying each other's company and sharing fine cigars. George Hamilton makes for a strikingly handsome leading man even if he's a bit short in the charisma department. The real fun is watching old pros Cotten, Evans and Preiss trade barbs and witticisms. It's the kind of dialogue that is rare in contemporary thrillers. The caper aspects of the production are carried out adequately by director (and former actor) Don Taylor and if the entire enterprise stacks up as "Hitchcock Lite", it's an enjoyable romp throughout with nary a dull moment and a bizarre but infectious score by Bob Harris and Peter Thomas (bizarre because it is the only time you will ever seen a filmed ski chase that combines jazz music and yodeling.) 

The Warner Archive has released the film as a region-free DVD title. There are some inconsistencies with the color quality but overall it's an acceptable print, though I suspect it may not be presented in its original aspect ratio. This version seems to be matted but I could be wrong. The DVD contains the original theatrical trailer.  

CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM AMAZON

By Doug Oswald

The final days of World War II in the Pacific are brought to life in “Apocalypse ’45,” the latest documentary from the makers of “The Cold Blue” released by Kino Lorber. Like its predecessor, “Apocalypse ‘45” (released in 2019) uses rarely seen color movies filmed during the war to create a narrative, in this case the final months of World War II. Watching this movie took my breath away and benefits from the narration by the men who were there. The color film makes the war come alive and is more real than in any of the scores of black and white documentary movies about World War II.

The movie tells parallel stories, one with the striking color film and the other with the insightful narration. Both the color film and the narration are blended into an alloy creating a new story of the last year of World War II in the Pacific. As America got closer to the Japanese homeland, the soldiers and civilians became more desperate. The soldiers were ordered to fight to the death while Japanese propaganda ensured the civilians would choose suicide to surrender. Graphic color footage of Japanese soldiers burning to death and civilians jumping to their deaths from cliffs are seen for the first time in decades in color because they were deemed too graphic for wartime and post-war American audiences. 1945 was also the year of the Kamikaze. The Japanese pilots received just enough training to fly their explosive-filled aircraft into American ships.

While the format of using the recorded recollections of WWII military veteransi s not unique to this movie, each face and voice is unique and a testament to the horrors of war. Many veterans of this era are now in their 90s and time has mellowed their perceptions of war and their former enemy. One of the voices is a Japanese civilian, just a boy when the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima. He provides his first person account of that day and the aftermath which is juxtaposed with then censored color footage of the bomb’s devastation. Everyone, military veteran and civilian alike, are survivors of an apocalypse.

The Kino Lorber Blu-ray looks and sounds terrific and this release is the extended director’s cut which clocks in at 104 minutes. Released to theaters in August 2020, Erick Nelson and his team did a remarkable job restoring the color film which has not been seen for over half a century. Special mention must be made regarding the score by Mark Leggett who provides an additional dramatic element to the film. The disc contains nearly 90 minutes of supplements including the trailers for this film and “The Cold Blue,” a restoration comparison and three documentaries; “Ford at Pearl” which is a new featurette using John Ford’s 1942 color footage filmed at Pearl Harbor, “To the Shores of Iwo Jima” and “The Last Bomb” from 1945. “Apocalypse ‘45” is highly recommended viewing along with its companion, “The Cold Blue.”

Click here to order from Amazon

By Lee Pfeiffer 

Director Franklin J. Schaffner was fresh off his Best Director Oscar triumph for Patton when he teamed with legendary producer Sam Spiegel for the historical epic Nicholas and Alexandra. The film was an adaptation of a best-selling book by Robert K. Massie that traced the tragic events leading to the assassination of Russia's last czar, along with his entire family. With a screenplay by the esteemed James Goldman (The Lion in Winter), the film had the potential to be another Spiegel classic. After all, Spiegel had teamed with director David Lean to produce two of the great cinematic masterpieces: The Bridge on the River Kwai and Lawrence of Arabia. Despite their mutual triumphs, Lean (like most people in the film industry) came to loathe the gruff Spiegel, whose mercurial temper knew no bounds. He would chastise gaffers and esteemed directors alike and Lean had had enough. When he began production on his 1965 blockbuster Doctor Zhivago, Spiegel's ego was bruised because Lean had teamed this time with producer Carlo Ponti. If Lean had made a boxoffice smash out of the Russian Revolution, Spiegel would prove he could do the same thing. Thus, Nicholas and Alexandra was borne more out of revenge than inspiration. In addition to hiring Schaffner for the project, Spiegel conspicuously brought two key members of the Zhivago team with him: production designer John Box and cinematographer Freddie Young. However, Spiegel's finances were not adequate to afford the big name stars he had hoped to cast in the lead roles. Thus, he was forced to cast relative unknowns from the British stage: Michael Jayston and Janet Suzman. To give the film some boxoffice allure, he cast a "Who's Who" of British acting royalty in supporting roles, comprised of legendary established stars and up-and-comers. They included Laurence Olivier, Michael Redgrave, Brian Cox, Ian Holm, Jack Hawkins (whose part was dubbed due to the actor's recent throat surgery), Harry Andrews, Tom Baker, John Wood, Roy Dotrice, Alexander Knox, Eric Porter and Timothy West. 

The story, steeped in historical accuracy, finds Nicholas ill-prepared to serve as czar over a troubled Russia beset by devastating economic conditions. With the majority of his people facing starvation and a daily struggle to survive, Nicholas resides in palatial splendor in Petersburg with his headstrong wife, Alexandra. Nicholas is a good man in his own way. He cares about the peasants but lives in a bubble that prevents him from relating to their day-to-lives. Born of privilege, he knows no other life. The Romanovs have ruled Russia for three hundred consecutive years and he sees no reason for the tradition to stop with his dynasty. He is delighted when Alexandra presents him with a male heir to the throne, but the boy is sickly and suffers from life-threatening hemophilia. Still, it's a happy family with Nicholas doting over his daughters and young son. He seems oblivious that there is great resentment towards his wife, who manipulates his every move and keeps him cut off from personal friends. He ignores warnings from his ministers that he must tone down Alexandra's lavish spending habits, especially during the poor economic climate. A protest by peasants in 1905 builds tension further when a mishap causes the army to fire on the people, slaughtering hundreds of them. The seeds of revolution continue to grow with the agitator Lenin leading the charge in hopes of establishing a Bolshevik ruling party and deposing the czar. Nicholas' ill-fated decision to enter WWI against Germany brings about catastrophic results. Not only are his armies no match against the Kaiser's but Alexandra is of German heritage, which further builds public resentment against her. As Russian forces face devastating defeats on the battlefields, revolution spreads quickly through the country. Lenin's popularity grows, especially when he promises to make immediate peace with Germany if he is given power. Before long, the czar finds himself essentially powerless. He and his family are arrested but he still believes they will live an idyllic and peaceful life in exile. Instead, they are shunted between distant locations and housed in barely-livable conditions as the new order debates their fate. As we all know, it is a tragic one with Nicholas and his family abruptly shot to death by an assassination squad.

These dramatic developments play out slowly but in an interesting manner throughout the film's 183-minute running time. The performances are all first rate, with Jayston especially good as the sympathetic (if clueless) czar. Suzman is every bit his match as the egotistical Alexandra and each member of the supporting cast provides a gem of a performance, with Olivier and Harry Andrews especially impressive and Tom Baker stealing the entire movie with his mesmerizing performance as Rasputin, the crazed monk who had a Svengali-like influence over Alexandra, much to her husband's disgust. Yet, despite those attributes and a rich production design, the film never emotionally moves the viewer as much as one would expect. The characters remain somewhat opaque and the great historical events that affect them are only given marginal background and explanation. Schaffner clearly wanted to emphasize personal relationships over visual splendor and by and large he succeeded. However, there is some emotional component missing here. He crafted an impressive movie on many levels but one that perhaps did not fulfill its ultimate potential. The movie was greeted with the customary (some would say obligatory) Oscar nominations generally accorded historical epics. It was nominated for 6 awards  (including nods for  Best Picture and Actress) and won in two technical categories. Nevertheless, overall critical response was mixed and the film was considered a boxoffice disappointment. Schaffner would go on to make three more impressive films (Papillon, Islands in the Stream and The Boys From Brazil) and several flops before passing away in 1989 at age 69. Spiegel never regained the mojo he once enjoyed in the industry. He would only make two more relatively low-key films (The Last Tycoon, Betrayal) before he died in 1985 at age 84.

Nicholas and Alexandra may not be the classic Spiegel and Schaffner had envisioned, but in this age of dumbed-down action movies, it plays much better than it did upon its initial release in 1971. It's a film that educates even as it entertains.

(The film is currently streaming on Amazon Prime.)

By Nicholas Anez

In 1981, United Artists released True Confessions, a Robert Chartoff and Irwin Winkler production directed by Ulu Grosbard. Robert De Niro and Robert Duvall star in the movie. It is about faith, hope, repentance and salvation. It is also about greed, corruption, pornography and murder.

The setting is Los Angeles of 1948. This is the City of Angels as conceived by John Gregory Dunne in his superb 1977 novel of the same title. Dunne was an accomplished novelist as well as a literary critic and a notable writer of non-fiction; his 1998 book, Monster: Living Off the Big Screen, is an invaluable account of the trials and tribulations of writing a screenplay in Hollywood. True Confessions is certainly his best novel and, together with Joan Didion (aka Mrs. Dunne), he adapted it to the screen. Didion was an equally fine novelist and was also known for her acerbic essays on California culture; in 1972, Didion and Dunne wrote the screenplay for Didion’s acclaimed 1970 novel Play It as It Lays. The screenplay for True Confessions naturally condenses the novel, which was 341 pages in its first edition, and eliminates many incidents as well as characters. Nevertheless, the movie still fully captures the essence of the novel. Actually, the screenplay improves upon the novel in one respect, possibly due to Didion’s involvement. Dunne seems to have written the novel in part as a form of therapy regarding his Irish-Catholic upbringing; by the novel’s midpoint, many of the characters seem to blend together as hopeless, cynical sinners. The movie is less critical of its main characters without softening the impact of the narrative. Significantly, the movie still captures Dunne’s insightful portrait of post-war Los Angeles. This is a city in which moral and spiritual decay flourish. And it is a city in which the excessively brutal murder of a young woman symbolizes the depravity that permeates every facet of its superficially glittering façade.

The film, like the novel, uses the factual Black Dahlia murder case of 1947 as a catalyst for the plot but it is primarily the story of the two Spellacy brothers and how their relationship becomes entwined with the murder of the woman whom the press calls “the virgin tramp.” Monsignor Desmond Spellacy (Robert De Niro) is an ambitious priest in the Catholic Church who hopes to rise someday to the position of cardinal even if it means neglecting his sacred vows. Detective Sergeant Tom Spellacy (Robert Duvall) is an embittered detective in the Los Angeles Police Department who is disgusted by the pervasive corruption and by the fact that he was once a part of it. Both Des and Tom are dealing with guilt which accounts in part for their strained relationship. Des has perhaps been repressing his guilt but as the story progresses it will come to the surface and he will have to confront it. Tom has lived with his guilt since he was a young vice cop and now sees an opportunity to expiate it. When the dissected body of Lois Fazenda is found in a vacant lot, it sets into motion a series of events that will involve both Tom and Des. Tom is in charge of investigating the murder while Des has a peripheral connection to the victim. Neither Tom nor Des initially realize it but the murder will propel them on a collision course.

This is a complex film and, as the story unfolds, it expands to include the compromises that individuals in the Los Angeles Police Department and in the Catholic Church must make to exist in a morally corrupt environment. Representative of this corruption is Jack Amsterdam (Charles Durning), a wealthy construction magnate and a respected member of the Catholic populace. Amsterdam also has a disreputable past of which both Tom and Des are aware. Nevertheless, Des has a history of awarding contracts for building projects within the diocese to Amsterdam in return for financial savings for the Church. It infuriates Tom that Des disregards Amsterdam’s unsavory past because of his wealth. However, Tom doesn’t know that Des is on the verge of terminating the Church’s association with Amsterdam. Des hopes to soften the jolt by awarding Amsterdam with a ceremony honoring him as Catholic Layman of the Year. Meanwhile, Tom’s investigation takes a surprising turn when Amsterdam’s name appears among the victim’s acquaintances. This increases his determination to solve the crime, regardless of how it may involve his brother.

Ulu Grosbard initially achieved fame as a Broadway theater director. He received two Tony nominations for Best Direction, in 1965 for Frank Gilroy’s The Subject Was Roses and in 1977 for David Mamet’s American Buffalo. Regarding his film career, some critics accused him of lacking an individual style as well as an artistic approach to the medium of film that would distinguish his movies. This may be due in part to the fact that, though his film career spanned three decades, he only directed seven movies (compared to eight Broadway plays), all of which are different in style and genre. He began his Hollywood career as an assistant director in the early 1960s. His first directorial credit was the film version of The Subject Was Roses (1968), which proved that he was equally adept with film as he was with the stage. He followed this with an interesting but pretentious misfire, Who Is Harry Kellerman and Why Is He Saying Those Terrible Things About Me? (1971). However, his third film, Straight Time (1978), is another underrated gem. True Confessions followed and is undoubtedly his best film. He followed this with a modest romantic drama, Falling in Love (1984), also with De Niro.

Grosbard distinctly demonstrates cinematic expertise with True Confessions. He imbues the movie with a neo-noir atmosphere, though this may not be initially apparent from the film’s beginning. The movie opens in 1962 as the elderly Spellacy brothers reunite in a dilapidated church in the desert in Palm Springs. This will lead to the flashback to 1948 and the main narrative which begins with a wedding in an opulent church in Los Angeles. The stark difference between the rundown church in the desert and the multi-million dollar cathedral is readily apparent. Equally apparent is the difference between the humble appearance of the elderly desert priest and the luxuriously attired young city ecclesiastic, especially since they are the same person. The reason for this transformation, which the public and the press labeled his disgraceful downfall, is the heart of the story that follows.

Grosbard directs the film in a restrained manner, excluding any flamboyance which might distract from his emphasis on the characterizations of Des and Tom Spellacy. His direction includes several memorable sequences. The restaurant scene begins with Tom’s amusing response to an uppity maitre’d and ends with his angry confrontation with Amsterdam in front of an embarrassed Des. The Catholic Layman Award ceremony simmers with suppressed tension and climaxes with an even more violent altercation between Tom and Amsterdam. The confessional scene in which both Amsterdam and Tom furiously and unjustly lash out at Des instead of one another bristles with unbounded rage while eliciting sympathy for the beleaguered monsignor. And there are some quieter scenes which are notable for their sensitivity to the characters. The diner scene in which Desmond tries to express to Tom his regret for the course of his life reveals the latent tenderness between the brothers, an emotion which both are unable to express. The abandoned military base in which Tom discovers the sight of the murder is shocking in its underlying anguish for the savagely-murdered victim. Even more sorrowful is the scene in which Tom tries to console Lois Fazenda’s parents as they remember her innocent childhood full of hopes and dreams. Through scenes such as these, Grosbard gradually builds the emotional content of the story as well as the tension until the explosive penultimate scene outside the courthouse. The director received some criticism for the brevity of this scene, for not showing Amsterdam’s comeuppance and for not filming a more dynamic solution to the murder. But this would have distracted from his main theme which is why he returns to the desert church for the highly poignant finale.

By Lee Pfeiffer

If you haven't caught up with Michael Caine as Harry Brown yet, the fact that it is now streaming on Amazon Prime may will allow you to do so. It's time well- spent. At an age where most thespians were comfortably retired, Caine was not only still a viable leading man when the film was made, but a viable leading man in action films. Harry Brown was released in 2009 and generated decent reviews and business in the UK, but it received a blink-and-you'll-miss-it run in the USA.  The film consciously (some might say pretentiously) strives to bring Caine back to the turf of one of his greatest films: the gritty 1971 crime classic Get Carter.  This film isn't of that caliber, but it represented Caine's strongest role in years. He plays a quiet pensioner eaking out an existence in a London housing estate that is beset with violence and terrorized by omnipresent street gangs. In the early part of the film, Harry's beloved wife of many years dies from an illness. Then his best friend is murdered by the thugs. You don't have to be the Amazing Kreskin to predict what happens next. Caine takes it upon himself to avenge his friend's death and utilizes his training as a Royal Marine (he fought in Korea) to reawaken his savage instincts. Slowly and methodically, he hunts down the main culprits and dispenses his own brand of justice.

If this sounds like a geriatric Death Wish, it most certainly is. However, the film is very moving on certain levels, as we watch this likeable man of peace's world crumble around him. His trail of vengeance is presented logically and he doesn't become a superman in the process. The film is ably directed by Daniel Barber, who makes the most of the locations at London's notoriously dreary Heygate Estate, which has since been demolished. Caine is aided by a fine supporting cast, with Emily Mortner especially good as a detective who is assigned to stop the vigilante killings. She suspects Caine is the killer, but can't help sympathizing with him. 

It's rare that the film industry affords an older actor a plumb role in an action film. Harry Brown may not be a classic, but it's good enough to rise above most contemporary action movies.

By Darren Allison

Having starred in the popular sitcom series The Munsters from 1964 -1966, Herman (Fred Gwynne), Lily (Yvonne De Carlo), Grandpa (Al Lewis), Eddie (Butch Patrick) and Marilyn (Debbie Watson) hit the big screen in Munster, Go Home (1966).

Produced and co-written by series creators Joe Connelly and Bob Mosher (Leave It to Beaver), this satire of American suburban life features British comedians Terry-Thomas and Hermione Gingold, legendary horror star John Carradine and future Family Feud host Richard Dawson, who was then appearing on Hogan’s Heroes.

The Munsters achieved higher Nielsen ratings than the similarly macabre family of the time The Addams Family. In 1965 it was nominated for the Golden Globe Award for Best Television Series but lost to The Rogues starring David Niven which was cancelled after one season.

After 70 episodes, The Munsters was also cancelled after ratings dropped due to competition from the Batman TV Series. The film was produced immediately after the television series completed filming. It starred the original cast (Fred Gwynne, Yvonne De Carlo, Al Lewis, Butch Patrick) apart from Marilyn, who was played by Debbie Watson, replacing Pat Priest from the series.

The movie was released in Technicolor, whereas the TV series was telecast in black & white. The hope was that the film would introduce the series to the world in advance of negotiating future syndication rights. The film was released in the United Kingdom at the end of December 1966 as support for the Norman Wisdom movie Press for Time (1966). The instrumental theme song, titled The Munsters' Theme, was composed by composer/arranger Jack Marshall and was nominated for a Grammy Award in 1965.

The story sees Herman becoming Lord Munster after he inherits an estate from an English uncle. With Spot guarding 1313 Mockingbird Lane, Herman leaves his job at Gateman, Goodbury & Graves Morticians for Munster Hall in England. Whilst there, he uncovers a counterfeiting ring and upholds the family honour by driving his Drag-u-la special in the annual road race.

The move from the TV screen to the cinema screen is often a gamble. The transition is tricky, with the chief obstacle finding a story interesting enough to fill a 90-minute slot while at the same time sustaining the audience’s attention can be tough. However, the central problem with Munster, Go Home! is that it just really isn’t that funny. The shifting dimensions between TV and cinema so often adjust the overall dynamics. The absence and familiarity of a laughter track almost leaves a cold, empty feel to the movie. Whilst The Munsters (shot at Universal City) was never filmed in front of a live studio audience, it was overdubbed with ‘canned laughter’ or a laughter track, an element that at least helped cue up or support a punchline or a comedic line of dialogue. As a result, something just seems to be lost in the movie version. Even the support from Terry-Thomas as English ancestor Freddie Munster is really over-the-top and at times borders on embarrassing. At just 96- minutes, it’s all really hard work.

Nevertheless, it’s not all bad. On the technical side, the production values work very well. Creepy dungeons, gothic mansions et al – create the perfect setting and atmosphere to satisfy every horror kid’s dream. The film is also presented in its original theatrical 1.85:1 ratio. But the real winner here is the Technicolor photography; the process simply elevates everything on display. It’s a distinctly ‘groovy’ 60’s colour pallet with all of its vibrant lime greens, luminous pinks and rich reds’ really igniting the screen and it comes through as the film’s overall saving grace.

Considering the film (and the series it was based upon) was so culturally significant, the Blu-ray’s extras are decidedly thin, consisting of just a lone theatrical trailer. It’s a real pity that some film or horror historian couldn’t be found to sit in and provide some sort of commentary – especially as the whole franchise had loose connections and is distantly related to the whole Universal Horror cycle…

Munster, Go Home! is released on July 25th 2022 as a Region 2 Blu-ray and is available from www.fabulousfilms.com

(Darren Allison is the Soundtracks Editor for Cinema Retro)

BY PAUL SCRABO

Once upon a time (or more specifically 1952) the amazing Cinerama film process premiered with “This is Cinerama”, and for the next ten years moviegoers lined up to hurl down a rollercoaster, cling tight on a runaway train, make a dangerous flyover at a volcano, even sit and watch an opera, in the comfort of roadshow seats. Three cameras filming in synchronization and mounted on a shell the size of a refrigerator captured a panorama of wonders from around the world. This undertaking was legitimized when three projectors, along with a fourth reel just for the multi-track sound, spread these vistas across a curved screen and across the country. Cinerama was a technical marvel…and not a small response to television!

Finally, after a decade of impressive travelogues, Cinerama joined forces with MGM. The objective: begin to produce films with actual stories using this immersive presentation. In June 1961, the popular LIFE Magazine series “How the West Was Won” began its transition to a giant of a western film; an all-star cast with three directors attached. A month later, George Pal began production on “The Wonderful World of the Brothers Grimm” and it would also employ more than one director. Henry Levin would handle the real-life dramatics, while Pal lent his gentle hand to the three fairy tales that would surround the story.

“Brothers Grimm” actually opened before “How the West Was Won” and got its share of kind but not outstanding reviews. The three fairy tales presented are not as dynamic as a Snow White or Cinderella, but of course those stories have been strongly “Disneyfied”, so it certainly made more sense to use less familiar subjects. What played between the tales could be another issue: the mixture of drama (including Wilhelm Grimm being deathly ill in the last half hour) sandwiched with “The Dancing Princess” or “The Singing Bone” seems a tough grind for an audience full of kids. But Russ Tamblyn is a major contributor to the fun aspects of the film, with terrific comedy, dancing and a few dangerous stunts.

With “Brothers Grimm” and "How the West Was Won", three strip Cinerama went out with positive memories, but it did go out. Audiences enjoyed it but directors and actors didn’t. A decent close up was out of the question, actors had to look past their subjects to make it appear normal for the camera, and cinematographers tried using several inventive ways to hide the join lines.(Trees and doorways were popular.) The rest of roadshow Cinerama would originate from various 70mm formats with an image squeeze to wrap around the curved screen. It was not quite the same, of course, but it brought success to epics like “Its a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World” and “2001: A Space Odyssey”. (Viewing the Cinerama version of “2001”, one fell into space, a feeling not achieved with any regular 70mm version.)

Time had not been kind to “Brothers Grimm”. For many years, home video used a print down version (merging the three panels into a single strip) with less-than-stellar results. Indeed, it was tough to judge the merits of the film because (to use the words of the late Cinerama expert John Harvey) it became “The Grim World of the Brothers Wonderful”. A last hurrah occurred at a Cinerama Dome festival several years ago when a surviving three panel version played to grateful widescreen fans. Note: with both “Mad World” and the previously lost “The Golden Head” on the schedule, a few called the weekend “The Buddy Hackett Film Fest"! And Russ Tamblyn came to the rescue again when the film broke down for a few minutes and the movie’s wonderful woodsman filled the time with some behind-the-scenes stories.

That night, those who were not around for “Brothers Grimm”s initial Cinerama run discovered the glory previously hidden by its video version. The surviving print had rough spots but no matter; when the walk-out music began the Dome audience applauded with the attitude of “We’ve finally seen this film the way we were supposed to.”

And that, we all thought, was that.

Over the years, producer, editor (and showmanship expert) Dave Strohmaier has gathered the best technicians in film and video to transfer the original Cinerama films, including “How the West Was Won” for the Blu-Ray format. The results are nothing short of remarkable, and all those titles belong in a film fan’s library. In fact, “How the West Was Won” has become the standard Blu-Ray for setup according to many home theater buffs. But while that film’s elements were in excellent shape, some of “Brothers Grimm” was not. Determining that a photochemical restoration would be cost prohibitive, if not impossible, Dave Strohmaier, Tom March and an army of experts set out to create a new digital presentation of this abandoned work of widescreen art. The result is the best way to see George Pal’s 1962 effort since, well, 1962.

Like the Warner Archive's Blu-Ray of “How the West Was Won”, “Brothers Grimm” is a two disc set containing a “Letterboxed” presentation and a “Smilebox” version, that replicates the experience of seeing the film in its curved screen Cinerama glory. Choices like this are again another reason to appreciate the disc medium.

Most may agree that “Brothers Grimm” is one of George Pal’s most ambitious projects. But is it his greatest achievement? Probably not. Justin Humphreys, curator of the estate of George Pal, reflects that the film misses classic status, yet it does accomplish what Pal, Levin, MGM and Cinema set out to make: a colorful, lively, musical, family friendly event at the cinema. The money is up on the screen and the European locations are major attractions.

So the greatness is found, perhaps not in the film itself but certainly in this Blu-Ray presentation; many home theater enthusiasts consider “Brothers Grimm” the home video release of the year, and I agree. From the clarity of Leigh Harline’s Oscar-nominated score to Paul Vogel’s cinematography, the film sounds and looks like it was produced today. In fact, due to the richness of Technicolor, dare we say it looks better than much of what we see in theaters today.

Special features are spread over both discs; radio interviews, trailers, photo slideshows, a salute to William R. Forman, promotional artwork, a delightful mini-doc “The Wonderful Career of George Pal”. But the headliner is surely the 40-minute “Rescuing a Fantasy Classic” documentary, an in-depth look at the massive digital restoration.

Thanks to the Warner Archive, Dave Strohmaier, Tom March and the team involved, “The Wonderful World of the Brothers Grimm” has been given another opportunity to entertain and to live on…happily ever after.

Click here to order from Amazon

By Darren Allison

The Film Detective release the B movie classic, The Brain from Planet Arous on Blu-ray. The company continues to impress with their stable of underground, cult classics. Teenage monsters, juvenile gangs and deceitful femme fatales have all made it into their catalogue and have provided an excellent, wide range of pure entertainment. The Brain from Planet Arous (1957) is no exception.

Nathan Juran’s wonderful piece of science fiction hokum remains a firm favourite among B movie buffs. With a cast headed by John Agar and Joyce Meadows, the story finds Professor Steve March (Agar) in his laboratory with his assistant Dan Murphy (Robert Fuller). Both men are troubled by some unusual readings and bursts of radiation coming from the desert, specifically, the wonderfully named Mystery Mountain. Both are eager to head out there and inspect the situation as quickly as possible. Steve's fiancée, the domestic goddess Sally Fallon (Joyce Meadows) is fully behind the boys, but refuses to let them leave on empty stomachs, especially after preparing the perfect barbecue in the garden - what a gal!

Steve, Dan and a bellies full of hamburgers arrive in the desert to discover a newly-formed cave. As they begin to explore inside they are met by a large, telepathic, floating brain. The alien lifeform kills Dan and proceeds to enter the body of Steve. A week later, Steve returns home, concocting a story about Dan taking a break and taking off to Las Vegas. It soon becomes apparent that Steve is not acting in a normal manner , in fact, he’s become something of a horny sex pest, especially towards Sally, who he practically tries to rape at any given opportunity.

Steve has obviously become possessed by the alien brain (called Gor) (and is incidentally voiced by the film’s associate producer Dale Tate). The possessed Steve has become a power-mad tyrant who gleefully blows passenger planes from the sky or deights in destroying entire towns with his newly- found powers and abilities.

It’s all wonderful material and a complete joy to absorb. Agar really seems to be enjoying this role. After so often portraying the clean-cut, all-American hero, he appears to relish the opportunity in playing the bad guy.

The Film Detective has provided a beautiful 4K restoration and the film looks incredible. There are two options to view it, either in a theatrical widescreen (1.85:1) ratio, or a straight-forward full frame (1.33:1) format. I would actually recommend the latter. After watching both versions, the full frame version seems to retain a greater element of fine detail, but of course this is down to individual choice. The contrast and depth offered in the black and white photography really shines through, as does the lovely clean audio track.

Extras on this special edition are also very enjoyable, and this is where I believe The Film Detective really notches up the fun factor. Their presentations always carry a firm tongue-in-cheek element. These films were never going to be multi-Oscar winners, and The Film Detective recognises that - but never without a lack of respect. There is a terrific commentary track featuring the always enthusiastic and knowledgeable film historian Tom Weaver, Monstrous Movie Music’s David Schecter (who released a great re-recording of the score and whose CD I still recommend) and the lovely Joyce Meadows joins in with the memories of making the movie. In fact, Joyce Meadows also has her own featurette / introduction on the disc, ‘Not the same Brain’,which finds her recreating her role as Sally, visiting locations and basically having a great deal of fun with it all. There are also a couple more featurettes, ‘The Man before the Brain: Director Nathan Juran’ and ‘The Man Behind the Brain: The World of Nathan Juran’. Both are original Ballyhoo productions, and despite some overlapping information between them both, they are nevertheless insightful and enjoyable. Also inside there is an excellent 10- page booklet featuring an essay by Tom Weaver, ‘The Brains Behind the Brain: The Sci-Fi Career of Producer Jacques Marquette’.

The Film Detective are on a fine roll of releases of late, and I only hope they continue on the same path. They have captured a format that really works in both their choices of titles and their presentation.

(Darren Allison is the Soundtracks Editor for Cinema Retro. Read his column in every issue.)

Click here to order from Amazon or click here to order directly from the Film Detective web site.

By Fred Blosser

Every career starts somewhere. In 1948, Rock Hudson’s began under contract at Universal International Pictures with bit roles like “second lieutenant” and “detective.” By 1953, thanks to his good looks, ambition, an influential agent, and shrewd beefcake publicity, he progressed to star billing in the studio’s assembly line of budget-conscious but colorful Westerns and costume adventures. By and large those productions are little remembered today, but they served two immediate purposes as they were designed to do. For Universal International, they made modest profits in movie theatres where weary working-class families flocked on weekends for splashy Technicolor entertainment. For Hudson, a novice actor, they provided valuable on-the-job training and popular visibility—prerequisites for better paying, more prestigious film credits to come.

Three of those journeyman films were “Seminole,” “The Golden Blade,” and “Bengal Brigade,” available on Blu-ray from Kino Lorber Studio Classics, in a boxed set as a “Rock Hudson Collection.” If you’re a younger viewer who wonders what Grandma and Grandad did for movie escapism before Marvel Comics and Tom Cruise, these will give you a good idea. Viewers with the time and stamina may decide to watch the entire set in one binge sitting of 255 minutes. If so, one thing will become apparent. Even spread across three genres, the storylines and casts don’t differ much. In the studio system of the early Eisenhower years, Universal International could make its B-movies quickly and cheaply by rushing its contract players like Hudson from one backlot set to another in formulaic scripts.

In “Seminole” (1953), the actor stars as Second Lt. Lance Caldwell, an Army officer who hopes to avert a war with the Seminole Indians of 1835 Florida. But his superior officer, Major Degan (Richard Carlson, effectively cast against type as a bristly martinet), has other ideas. When Degan and Caldwell lead an expedition into the swamp to confront the Indians, the troop is ambushed. Captured, Lance finds that the Seminoles have their own split between pacifists and war-mongers. Lance’s friend, Chief Osceola (Anthony Quinn), wants to sign a treaty even if it means uprooting the tribe. An influential warrior, Kajeck (Hugh O’Brian), won’t settle for anything less than armed victory over Degan and his troops. With the Army routed, the territory’s white settlers will clear out fast.

Like most 1950s Westerns, the plot is generic. Except for the Everglades setting, the Seminole might as well be Apache, Cheyenne, or Sioux, played by white actors in body paint. Indian wars are the fault of hot-heads on both sides, not the result of orchestrated land-grabs by the U.S. government as was usually the case in real life. The swamps are a combination of on-location footage in the Everglades and a backlot set where Hudson dutifully slogs through bogs and creeks with supporting players James Best, Russell Johnson, and another actor who started small and ended big, Lee Marvin. Those scenes give director Budd Boetticher and his cast a chance to flex some macho muscle, even though the studio swamp looks about as sweltering and nasty as a Magic Kingdom theme park. Hudson and Boetticher would go on to better Westerns, Hudson with Robert Aldrich’s “The Last Sunset” and Boetticher in five iconic pictures with Randolph Scott.

“The Golden Blade” (1953) puts Hudson in familiar Arabian Nights

surroundings as Haroun, a merchant’s son from Basra who travels to Baghdad to avenge his father’s death in an attack by bandits. In fact, the “bandits” were assassins secretly dispatched by Jafar (George Macready), the caliph’s scheming vizier, to provoke a war between the two cities. This is part of a scheme by Jafar that also includes promoting a marriage between his loutish son Haji (Gene Evans), the captain of the palace guard, and Princess Khairuzan (Piper Laurie). Once Haji becomes regent, agents from “Basra” will murder the caliph and the princess, and Haji will inherit the throne as Jafar’s puppet. Haroun is under-matched against Haji, the greatest swordsman in Baghdad, until he finds a magic sword in the medieval Baghdad equivalent of a Goodwill thrift shop.

Given that Piper Laurie had recently made two almost identical films with Tony Curtis, “The Prince Who Was a Thief” (1951) and “Son of Ali Baba” (1952), “The Golden Blade” was already familiar material by 1953. Some scenes were lifted from an even earlier Universal production, 1944’s “Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves,” a common cost-saving tactic by the studio in the early 1950s. Minus the sword fights, there isn’t a lot of difference, either, between “The Golden Blade” and your eight-year-old's favourite, “Disney’s Aladdin”; even the villainous viziers in both movies are named Jafar. It’s easy to make fun of old-fashioned B-level swashbucklers like this, but the director, Nathan Juran, mounts the action scenes well, and the Technicolor reds, greens, purples, and blues are sumptuous in their hi-def clarity. Casting Gene Evans as the secondary bad guy may seem like an odd call, since most of us fondly remember the veteran character actor for scores of Westerns and war dramas, but Evans’ bullish persona gives the character a knowingly humorous edge. When Piper Laurie’s spirited princess complains, “Men are able to roam freely, while we women are trapped in the harem,” the harried housewives of 1953 probably agreed.

Hudson landed the starring role in “Bengal Brigade” (1954) after Tyrone Power turned down the part; Power had already played a similar character in 20th Century Fox’s “King of the Khyber Rifles.” At a siege of a rebellious native fort in 1856 India, British Captain Jeffrey Claybourne disobeys an order by Colonel Morrow (Torin Thatcher) to retreat under heavy fire, attacking instead. Claybourne’s company of native Indian soldiers had walked into an ambush, and the captain’s action saves their lives at the cost of his military career and his engagement to the colonel’s daughter (Arlene Dahl). Claybourne resigns and knocks around India as a big-game hunter (on a jungle set likely repurposed from the swamp in “Seminole”), when he’s approached by a devious Indian rajah (Arnold Moss). The rajah is gathering a private army for an uprising against the British, and he offers the disillusioned Claybourne a well-paid commission to train his recruits.

Although British rule in India ended in 1947, the movies continued to celebrate the “sun never sets” colonial tradition into the 1950s and even beyond. If you expect that “Bengal Brigade” will cue the opening notes of “Rule Britannia” from the studio’s stock library of music, you’ll be right on the money, and you won’t have to wait long. Given today’s wide availability of Indian actors, the old practice of hiring whites to play native Indians seems outdated and demeaning, but you’d have come up empty in 1953 to find a Priyanka Chopra or Irrfan Khan in central casting. The only exceptions here are performers Sujata and Asoka Rubener in a brief, non-speaking dance routine. At that, Arnold Moss as the rajah and Michael Ansara as Claybourne’s native sergeant offer more nuanced performances than the Rule Britannia music might suggest. Anyway, before you attack old Hollywood for its insular ways, just remember that even today, few Steven Spielberg fans wince at the unvarnished chauvinism of “Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.”

The “Rock Hudson Collection” includes theatrical trailers for all three films and fine audio commentary on two of them by Nick Pinkerton (“Seminole”) and Phillipa Berry (“The Golden Blade”).

CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM AMAZON

BY LEE PFEIFFER

After the Golden Era of Universal monster movies in the 1930s and 40s, the cinematic fiends were largely relegated to "B" movie status. In the mid-1950s, Hammer Films, a production company founded in 1934, discovered there was gold in them 'thar monsters and moved away from the largely nondescript, low-budget films they were known for in favor of the horror and science fiction movies that would quickly define the Hammer legacy. The studio brought to the screen the first color movies featuring Dracula, Frankenstein and The Mummy, not to mention Sherlock Holmes ("The Hound of the Baskervilles"). The British company kept censors on their toes with an ample supply of busty beauties and a good sampling of bloody set pieces. Audiences that were starved for adult-oriented fare in these genres responded with enthusiasm and Hammer continued to supply a good number of hit films on relatively modest budgets. By the 1970s, new screen freedoms resulted in plenty of prurient cinematic films and the shocking aspects of the Hammer films seemed mundane. Consequently, the studio began to up the ante, substituting more sex and violence in place of the production qualities and fine scripts that had been the hallmark of earlier films. By the 1980s, the company was through and existed only as a legal entity. Over the decades, rumors of a comeback drifted through the film industry with no sign of a resurrection. Under a new management team in the 2000s, Hammer rose from the grave and began making films once again. They had a critically acclaimed boxoffice hit in 2012 with the refreshingly traditional ghost story "The Woman in Black" starring Daniel Radcliffe but the output since has proven to be sporadic and erratic.

One "modern" Hammer production that merits some attention is the largely-ignored "The Tenant", released in 2011. Two-time Oscar winner Hilary Swank stars as New York Emergency Room doctor Juliet Devereau. Like many Gotham residents, she's on the hunt for an affordable apartment in a city that practically requires a supply of gold bullion to pay the rent. She seems to strike pay dirt with her discovery of a large old building that has a cavernous apartment for rent at the "affordable" price of $3800 a month (and this was in 2011). The place was once an office building but it is being painstakingly and slowly restored by its owner, Max (Jeffrey Dean Morgan), a somewhat shy, polite and rather hunky young guy who lives in the building with his grandfather August (Hammer icon Christopher Lee). In fact, they appear to be the only residents, as Max only has one apartment available for rent. Juliet falls in love with the place. It's huge by Manhattan standards. Max points out the negative aspects: he is working long hours on the restoration which requires much of the building to appear unsightly. It's also a noisy process. Additionally, the elevated subway runs almost directly past her bedroom window. Undeterred, Juliet enthusiastically rents the place. It's close to work and affords an atmosphere of solitude and charm. But you know the way these things go in a Hammer film.

Max is rather shy but extremely polite and he's always on hand to carry out any household-related requests. Juliet finds him attractive and before long she is in bed with Max. But before any hanky panky takes place, she thinks the better of becoming romantically involved with her landlord and abruptly puts an end to their dalliance. She just wants to be friends, as she's also nursing the wounds from breaking up with her longtime boyfriend Jack (Lee Pace). Max remains polite but we see he is carrying a lot of psychological baggage. Juliet's rejection of him leads to a meltdown. Before long, he's going the full Norman Bates route, using assorted peepholes that allows him to see the object of his desire as she moves about her apartment. Then things get really dangerous for Juliet.

On one level, "The Resident" is just another "young woman in jeopardy" movie pitting our heroine against a creepy stalker. But director Antti Jokenen is a cut above the directors of similar, disposable films. Aided by fine performances by Swank (who executive produced) and Morgan, he is able to elevate the movie above many entries in this genre. As with numerous Hitchcock films, this one seems intent on demonstrating that there isn't necessarily safety in numbers. The teeming streets of Manhattan lay only yards away, but Juliet ultimately finds herself very much alone and isolated when her life is at stake. By the time the inevitable confrontation with her tormentor finally comes, Jokenen's slow-boil approach has resulted in a considerable degree of nail-biting suspense. It's too bad the film becomes a bit cliched in the final moments (whenever a power tool is shown in a flick such as this, you know someone is going to end up using it as a deadly weapon.) It's also a bit disappointing that Christopher Lee (in his final Hammer film) is not given more screen time. It's a joy to see him on screen, but he has little to do and is primarily only seen in the early part of the movie. Nevertheless, there are other merits including outstanding cinematography by Guillermo Navarro and creative editing by Oscar winner Bob Murawski. There's also an appropriately eerie score by John Ottman and a literate script by Jokinen and Robert Orr. Special kudos to Production Designer J. Dennis Washington, for his creative design of the apartment house and its underlying secret passages.The film was shot in only 30 days, with interiors filmed in a studio in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

Considering the talent involved, it's surprising that "The Resident" went straight to video in America and didn't make much of a splash in that realm. Since Cinema Retro likes to make readers aware of worthy and overlooked films, I can recommend "The Tenant". It is by no means a horror classic, but it deserved a far better fate.

The film is currently streaming on Amazon Prime. Click here to order on Blu-ray from Amazon.

RETRO-ACTIVE: THE BEST FROM CINEMA RETRO'S ARCHIVES

(This article has been revised and updated from its original version.)

BY LEE PFEIFFER

The Fourth of July seems to be an appropriate day to revisit our review of one of the most savaged films of its times- and to re-evaluate many merits that were initially overlooked.

It certainly isn't unusual for studios to invest money in director's cuts of films that were critical and box-office successes, but in a highly unusual move, Warner Home Video has made it possible for director Hugh Hudson and star Al Pacino to revisit and improve upon one of the most notorious box-office bombs of all time: the 1985 epic Revolution. The film was ravaged by critics and a disinterested public virtually ensured the movie would go down in the annals of Hollywood financial disasters. Yet, like Heaven's Gate, it's a film that is often mocked by people who probably haven't even seen it. I had only viewed it once - when it was first released on VHS. With the widescreen image cropped and the shoddy transfer work that was the rule during those dark days of the pre-DVD era, I was not impressed with the movie- though I felt it had far more qualities than its reputation might indicate. The story centers on Tom Dobb, a poor widower who comes to New York City with his young son Ned to sell his furs. He finds the city in a state of revolutionary fervor, as colonists are on the verge of all-out rebellion against King George. Dobb is apolitical, but soon he and his son are ensnared by the events of the day and are virtually forced to serve in the rapidly-formed colonial army. The plot follows father and son through the early days of the revolution, when independence seemed to be a foolish dream. George Washington's forces lost most of the major battles and the troops starved and froze before the tide of battle turned.

There are two other major characters in the film: Daisy (Nastassja Kinski), a rebellious teenager disowned by her Tory family for obsessively fighting for the cause of the revolutionaries, and Sgt. Maj. Peasy (Donald Sutherland), a soft-spoken but sadistic British officer with a penchant for molesting little drummer boys. In the original version of the film, director Hugh Hudson (fresh from acclaim for Chariots of Fire and Greystoke, The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes) found himself under great pressure from the financing team that was backing the film. He had to make some drastic artistic compromises and knew full well that the finished film released to theaters was far from his original vision. What he didn't expect was the sheer venom extended to his movie. The criticism was scathing and much of it was directed at star Al Pacino, who garnered the worst reviews of his career. There was little mention of the magnificent battle scene, the outstanding production design or the stirring score. The film vanished from theaters and both director and star suffered career set-backs.  

The new version of the film is titled Revolution Revisited and benefits extensively from the mere fact it looks terrific in the DVD format. Hudson cut about five minutes of the film (including the sappy ending that was forced on him by the producers)  and more crucially, added a narration by Pacino that ties up many loose ends and makes the story far more coherent. (One complaint: Pacino virtually whispers the narration, making it difficult to hear without the sound cranked up full volume.) Nevertheless, the movie deserves a re-evaluation and I have to say that it now plays wonderfully. Hudson's skill at handling the epic qualities of the story, without sacrificing the human aspect, is far more apparent with the new version. The performances are all first rate, even if the characters are still a bit sketchy. (Pacino and Kinski keep bumping into each other in the most unlikely places, though it's never explained why their brief encounters lead to an obsessive love affair.) Hudson's use of the hand-held camera during the main battle sequence was scoffed at by critics, but today it is standard practice - and adds immeasurably to the feeling of realism. Assheton Gorton's production design is truly superb and transplants you back into the era with a feeling of conviction.

In addition to the original trailer (which shows some of the cut final scene), the DVD has a very unique featurette- a recent sit down, causal conversation between Hudson and Pacino in which they candidly discuss what went wrong with the first version of the film. Both agreed it was too hurried and was confusing. Pacino expresses amazement that he was mocked for his accent in the film, even though it was carefully worked on with the aid of historians to ensure accuracy. He also points out this was the only film he had made that was not of a relatively contemporary nature and his was disappointed to learn his audience would not accept him in a historical epic. Both he and Hudson admit the film damaged their careers and they didn't work again for years. This type of candor is all too rare and quite refreshing in the realm of DVD documentaries. Pacino says there are no other films he is as defensive of and so enthusiastic about revisiting to give it a second chance. The conversation lets us in on several juicy bits of trivia - Sylvester Stallone wanted the lead role in this, and Al Pacino had been offered the role of Rambo.

It sounds like a cliche, but you haven't seen Revolution until you've seen the new, improved version. I don't want to overstate the movie's merits. This isn't some under-appreciated classic and some of its primary flaws remain. However, there is much to value here that was overlooked in the original version of the film and only improved upon in the director's cut. Hardcore Cinema Retro readers will be especially appreciative of Hudson's achievement and the massive scale of the film in that glorious era that preceded CGI.  Given the passage of time, I believe the critics were wrong about this one - and so was I.

(The U.S. DVD is now out-of-print but can be found on eBay. The film is currently available for streaming rental or purchase on Amazon. A Region 2 PAL format Blu-ray/DVD edition can be ordered from Amazon here.)

BY LEE PFEIFFER

Casting young Robert Mitchum in a crime thriller opposite two beautiful leading ladies would seem to be a recipe for a successful film. However, "Foreign Intrigue" manages to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory by saddling the actors with a cumbersome, confusing screenplay. Mitchum is cast as Dave Bishop, an American personal secretary/press agent in the employ of Victor Danemore (Jean Galland), a mysterious rich man who lives lavishly on the French Riviera. When Danemore dies from a heart attack, Bishop becomes intrigued by the mysteries of the man's life and how little he actually knew about him. Even Danemore's young trophy wife Dominique (Genevieve Page) claims to have been a wife in name only and was, in fact, a "kept woman" intended to give Danemore a respectable social status. When Bishop is approached by an assortment of strange characters all of whom are concerned about secrets Danemore may have kept pertaining to their lives, he begins to investigate who his employer really was and why there is consternation in some circles regarding his death. In the process, Bishop not only becomes romantically involved with Dominique but also with Brita (Ingrid Thulin, billed here as "Ingrid Tulean"), a vivacious young woman whose father was being blackmailed by Danemore for reasons unknown. Bishop's investigation turns deadly as he gets nearer the truth with attempts made on his life by mysterious strangers. It turns out that Danemore had been blackmailing prominent European men who had been secretly in league with Hitler. Ultimately, Bishiop is kidnapped by intelligence officials who ask him to volunteer to unmask the collaborators on a mission that could cost him his life.

"Foreign Intrigue" was the brainchild of producer/director/screenwriter Sheldon Reynolds, who had produced a successful TV series of the same title. He saw potential in spinning off the property to a feature film and shot the production on some exotic European locations in color, though the bulk of the movie was filmed in a studio. The story starts off on an intriguing note but soon becomes confusing with the addition of seemingly countless minor characters and red herrings. Even when the main mystery is solved, I found myself still uncertain as to certain characters' relationship to the plot and each other. Although the role of Bishop would seem tailor-made for Robert Mitchum, director Reynolds doesn't showcase the actor's trademark persona as a cynical wiseguy. He can handle himself well in the action scenes and Reynolds makes sure Mitchum has the requisite opportunity to parade around shirtless, but what is missing is the actor's "bad boy" image. His leading ladies are well-cast and Frederick O'Brady is marvelous as a Peter Lorre-like man of mystery but Mitchum and his co-stars suffer from the film's often slow pace. The movie picks up steam towards the finale but the climax is undermined by an absurd scene that is unintentionally funny. It involves Bishop meeting the villain one-on-one in the dead of night on a street in Vienna. Due to plot contrivances, virtually every other character manages to show up, making the secret meeting look like a convention. Adding to the absurdity is the fact that although the scene is set in one of the world's bustling cities, the landscape looks like the opening  of "The Omega Man" with nary a single living soul or moving vehicle seen anywhere. "Foreign Intrigue" will mostly appeal to Mitchum enthusiasts who will be satisfied by his considerable screen presence even in a film that doesn't reach its potential.

(Incidentally, although the film's credits state that Genevieve Page and Ingrid Thulin were "introduced" in this film, in fact, both actresses had a number of screen credits prior to appearing in "Foreign Intrigue". This was a common - if deceitful- marketing ploy frequently used by movie studios during the era.) 

The film is currently streaming on Amazon Prime free for subscribers.

CLICK HERE TO ORDER BLU-RAY FROM AMAZON