“The
Hands of Orlac,” a 1960 U.K.-French co-production, was the third movie version
of “Les Mains d’Orlac,” a sensational 1920 novel by French writer Maurice
Renard.Like many of the other horror
pictures released in 1960, it was filmed in black-and-white.The director, Edmond T. Gréville, was a veteran French-born filmmaker who had worked in
both France and England.His previous
picture, “Beat Girl” (1960), had featured Christopher Lee as a strip club
impresario in an exploitative story about beatniks, aspiring rockers, and
strippers.Lee and other British actors
filled most of the major supporting roles in “The Hands of Orlac.”Exterior scenes were filmed on the French
Riviera, interiors at Britain’s Shepperton Studios.An American actor, Mel Ferrer, was cast in
the lead.Ferrer was a reliably familiar
leading man for the all-important U.S. market.His name lent box-office appeal in those days when foreign movies were
suspect in small-town America, as it did for another offbeat horror production
in which he also starred that same year, Roger Vadim’s “Blood and Roses,” a
French and Italian co-production.But
U.S. distributors apparently saw no pressing need to slip Gréville’s film into American theaters, since it didn’t open here
until 1964.By that time, a promotional
still from the movie had appeared in the October 1963 issue of “Famous Monsters
of Filmland” magazine, in a preview of upcoming horror and fantasy releases.
In
the story, a celebrated concert pianist and composer, Stephen Orlac (Ferrer),
flies from London to France to visit his fiancee, Louise (Lucile Saint
Simon).His small plane wrecks in a fog,
and Orlac’s hands are “burnt to the bone” in the crash.After his ambulance passes through a police
checkpoint where a condemned murderer, Vasseur, is being transported to the
guillotine, Louise prevails on a famous surgeon, Dr. Volchett (Donald Wolfit),
to operate in an effort to save her lover’s badly injured hands.Coming out of the anaesthetic, Orlac finds
his hands encased in huge, unsightly plaster casts.Worse, he sees the front page of a newspaper
that juxtaposes a report about Vasseur’s execution with one about his own
injuries.To his groggy eyes, the
stories gradually merge into one under the headline, “Stephen Orlac Receives
the Hands of Vasseur, the Murderer.”Lifting the grotesque casts, Orlac flies into hysterics.This was the publicity still that intrigued
us young readers of “Famous Monsters” in 1963.It was also the centerpiece of the movie’s lobby-poster art.
Did
the newspaper actually display the stories that Orlac read, more or less as he
interpreted them?Was he
hallucinating?Was there even a
newspaper at all?No matter, the
high-strung pianist becomes convinced that the surgeon found his hands
irreparably damaged, amputated them, and replaced them with Vasseur’s,
especially since, as he mourns, “They feel as if they no longer belong to
me!”After the casts come off, he can’t
get his fingers to strike the right notes on the keyboard.
The
obsession grows stronger when Orlac and Louise make love.His fingers unconsciously tighten around her
throat, and she begins to choke.That
incident and others convince the pianist that Vasseur’s hands have a violent
will of their own, and his fiancee’s life is in danger as long as they’re
together.He checks into a sketchy
Marseilles hotel under an assumed name, where he encounters a small-time stage
magician named Nero (Christopher Lee, returning from “Beat Girl” as an even
sleazier character).Nero senses an
opportunity for blackmail; obviously, “Mr. Stephen” is a well-off guy who
wouldn’t be holed up in a dump unless he had something to hide.Nero pimps out his pouty assistant and
mistress, Li-Lang (Dany Carrel), to cozy up to Orlac and get him to talk.
Orlac’s
self-imposed exile doesn’t last long.After Louise tracks him down, he decides to straighten up, return to
England, marry Louise, and resume his career.But he continues to brood over his persuasion that his hands are no
longer his own.Discovering “Mr.
Stephen’s” true identity, Nero and Li-Lang follow.Nero sets about to feed Orlac’s paranoia,
reasoning that the unhinged pianist will kill someone sooner or later, opening
himself to big-time extortion.
To
the extent that film enthusiasts take notice of “The Hands of Orlac” at all,
they mostly judge it seriously inferior to the previous movie versions of
Renard’s novel.Robert Wiene’s “Orlacs
Hände” (1924), also called “The Hands of Orlac” in English-language prints, was
a classic of German silent cinema, with Conrad Veidt as the title character
amid feverish Expressionist sets.Following in 1935 from MGM, Karl Freund’s “Mad Love” with Colin Clive as
Orlac draped the story in sadism and sexual perversion, to the extent Freund
could do so under the vigilant eyes of the Hays Code censors.
Gréville’s remake dialed back on Wiene’s and Freund’s
extravagance, accounting for some of its lacklustre press from critics who like
to see the gothic thriller envelope pushed further than Gréville pushed it, at least in their opinion.It’s very much a product of 1960, emphasising
the psychological aspect of Orlac’s dilemma and stepping into film noir
territory once the intimidating Nero and Li-Lang enter the plot.It even evokes the emerging New Wave of
French cinema with its documentarian exterior shots on the Riviera.Claude Bolling’s musical score includes light
jazz for a scene in which Orlac tools around in a vintage sports car, and
rinky-tink cabaret music for Li-Lang’s sultry song-and-slink routine following
Nero’s magic act, juxtaposed with Beethoven and Liszt in the concert scenes
that open and close the movie.Mel
Ferrer lacks Conrad Veidt’s eye-popping hysteria and Colin Clive’s furrowed
anxiety, his Orlac repurposed for 1960 as a sophisticate in shades, pullover
sweater, and tailored slacks for casual wear, and an expensive suit for
business occasions.If you’re a
retro-fan of JFK-era men’s fashions, you probably won’t mind.You may even prefer Ferrer’s interpretation
over his predecessors’.Like other
British horror films of the time, such as “Jack the Ripper” (1959) and “The Two
Faces of Dr. Jekyll” (1960), “The Hands of Orlac” promises plenty of sex appeal
courtesy of Lucile Saint Simon’s filmy negligees and Dany Carrel’s showgirl
outfits.In truth, this stuff is pretty
tame by 2023 standards, but it was a draw for male filmgoers at a time when
even the centrefolds in “Playboy” were often modestly posed.
For
most of the picture, we don’t know whether Orlac’s obsession has a basis in
reality, since we don’t actually see the operation itself.Were the killer’s hands really grafted onto
his wrists, or is the pianist suffering from a morbid neurosis?An explanation is made toward the end that
for may find satisfying or frustrating, depending on your tastes.It doesn’t help that Orlac is surrounded by
oddball characters who only compound his unease.Nero is the only one who is overtly menacing,
but others are unsettling in their own ways.In his few minutes on screen, Donald Wolfit’s Dr. Volchett is brusque
and possibly alcoholic; his decision to save (or replace) Stephen’s damaged
hands seems more a whim than a humanitarian impulse.His unnamed assistant (Anita Sharp Bolster)
is a starchy spinster who wears rimless glasses with impenetrably thick lenses,
like Albert Dekker’s in 1940’s “Dr. Cyclops.”When Orlac tries to call Dr. Volchett to either confirm or relieve his
suspicions, the assistant tells him the surgeon is on professional travel—to
Moscow!—and unreachable in that era before cellphones and Zoom.She brightens up as she enjoys a chance to
extol her boss, but her comments only deepen Orlac’s fears:“Dr. Volchett is a magician,” she
declares.“Your case was his greatest
triumph.”In a small but bravura
appearance, Donald Pleasence plays Coates, a sculptor who wants to use Orlac’s
hands as the model for those of Lazarus in a biblical tableau of Lazarus raised
from the dead.“All we see of Lazarus is
his hands—your hands, Orlac!”, he exclaims, seizing the pianist’s
wrists.Given Stephen’s state of mind,
the sculptor’s fervor is more invasive than flattering, like the irritating
stranger who latches on to you at a party and won’t let go.As he makes his pitch with growing
enthusiasm, Orlac stares at his hands (poised exactly as he had scrutinized his
grotesque casts earlier in the story), and runs off in panic.
“The
Hands of Orlac” isn’t the best horror thriller of 1960.That would be Alfred Hitchcock’s “Psycho,”
with “Blood and Roses” and Georges Franju’s “Eyes Without a Face” as close
seconds.But it’s better than its
obscurity would imply.In the U.S.,
“Eyes Without a Face” was dumped onto double bills as “The Horror Chamber of
Dr. Faustus” and generally ignored by critics, much as “The Hands of Orlac”
was.Now, it’s widely regarded as a
classic.It’s surprising that Gréville’s
picture hasn’t received similar reappraisal, given the renewed interest in
neglected horror films in the home video era, and the movie’s value as an early
showcase for Christopher Lee and Donald Pleasence.The problem may lie with the fact that an
official DVD or Blu-ray edition for fair evaluation doesn’t exist in the U.S.,
the U.K., or anywhere else as far as I can tell.DVD-R versions are sold on the collector’s
market, with caveats about their visual quality.
We
discovered this presentation of the film on YouTube, apparently sourced from
tape, perhaps one of two competing VHS releases in the 1990s, or a videotape
from a long-ago television broadcast.The image is better than you might expect, if inferior to the hi-def
transfers we’ve come to expect nowadays.It’s also the easiest way to find the movie, at least until we can hope
to see original elements unearthed, if they still exist, and a better print
prepared for Blu-ray or one of the major streaming platforms.
(To watch in full screen format, click on "Watch on YouTube".)
Flicker
Alley’s recent Blu-Ray release of “Laurel & Hardy Year One-The Newly
Restoed 1927 Silents” is the start of a ground-breaking project which is a joy
for all film fan,s especially Laurel & Hardy aficionados. Produced by film
historians and restoration specialists Serge Bromberg and Eric Lange in
conjunction with Lobster Films, Blackhawk Films and The Library of Congress,
this 2-disc set contains the first 15 extant films that feature Stan Laurel and
Oliver Hardy in the casts. A number of the films can just boast having Laurel
& Hardy in the same film-not yet a team.
Many
of these films are being seen in their most complete versions thus far due to
the collaboration of various film archives and collectors. This is the seminal
period of the teaming of Laurel & Hardy. They are not quite a team in the
earliest films in this collection. This set gives us the opportunity to study
their evolving partnership.
In
typical Flicker Alley fashion the set is chock full of wonderful bonus
materials. Each film has newly recorded audio commentary by Laurel & Hardy
scholar Randy Skretvedt. There are three documentaries: Restoring Laurel
& Hardy, Laurel & Hardy on Location & Hats Off!-a slide show
presentation of the only completely lost Laurel and Hardy film. There are
Multiple Image Galleries, additional music scores for three of the shorts and a
very informative 35-page booklet.
If
you have seen any previous Flicker Alley releases, you know the image quality is
superb. This initial release is an exciting start to a multiple year project.
Year Two (1928) is next. We will have the opportunity to watch the teaming of
one of the greatest comedy teams mature into legends. Very much recommended.
The
Titanic's sinking occurred over 111 years ago and yet it still holds a special
place in not only history, but popular culture as well. If you are reading this
you probably know its history already. It crashed into an iceberg on its maiden
voyage from Southampton, England to New York City. One thousand, five hundred
and twenty two men, women, and children perished in the freezing water.Whether from James Cameron's Oscar- winning
film, multiple documentaries throughout the years, or the smash hit stage musical
being reviewed here (the filmed version), people have been drawn to its tragic
story.
The
musical first opened on Broadway April 23, 1997 and ran for 804 performances.
It
won
all five Tony Awards it was nominated for, Best Musical, Best Book, and Best
Score, along with Best Orchestrations and Scenic Design, and successfully
toured both the US and Europe for years. In its current "revival"
Fathom Events, along with By Experience, are bringing the production of the
recent UK tour to the silver screen.I
did not see the original production. I feel it puts me in a better position to
review this filmed version as I have no preconceived notions or memories about
the show.
Twenty
five actors perform in this filmed version as opposed to forty three in the
Broadway production. From what I read about the Broadway version, the set was
so expensive (it tried to encompass all three classes of passengers along with
the ship's bridge), there were no out-of-town tryouts. In this filmed version,
since it was a tour, the producers made a similar, if smaller set for the show,
but whether it was or not a recreation, it is, once getting past slight
distractions, a very good set.
(Photo: Pamela Raith)
The
cast is terrific. Standouts are Martin Allanson as J. Bruce Ismay, director of
the White Star line, the "Villain" of the show, cast with a Snidely
Whiplash moustache is, if not "evil incarnate," than at least
"evil a-boat-ate."Graham
Bickley as the put-upon by Ismay ship's Captain Edward Smith, is one of the
most sympathetic characters, Alice Beane, as portrayed by Bree Smith is the
social climbing, selfish wife who sneaks into First Class to hobnob with the
hoi polloi who puts her marriage at risk. Adam Filipe as Stoker Frederick
Barrett is an experienced stoker, who becomes engaged to be married through the
wireless while at sea. He knows the voyage is at risk due to Ismay's
machinations to increase the ship's speed to set the Atlantic crossing speed
record.
To
list all the wonderful performances and numbers would take too much time and
effort, as I am not being paid by the word.
This
filmed version will be available to see at over 700 U.S. theaters country-wide
on November 4th and 8th. At approximately $20/a seat, it is a whale of a
bargain to see this multi-award winning show.
Roger Corman had, over a relatively short period of time,
directed and/or produced more than a
half-dozen pictures since his entry into the movie industry in 1955.His first efforts were modest successes, but
the filmmaker firmly broke into a dependably bankable stride within two years’
time.Though already having helmed two
low budget science-fiction pictures with some success (Day the World Ended (1955) and It
Conquered the World (1956) his reputation in Hollywood - as a budget-minded
money-spinner - was properly recognized following the box office counting of his
1957 chiller combo: Attack of the Crab
Monsters/Not of This Earth.Variety noted the package – each film made
on a “slenderized bankroll of $85, 000,” had brought in an impressive domestic
gross of $800,000.By early November of
’57, that package, distributed through Allied Artists, had earned back the
entirety of its production and marketing costs within twelve weeks of its release.
Through the remainder of the 1950s and well into the early
1960s, Corman continued to grind out a dizzying array of feature films, not all
of the horror and sci-fi variety: there were plenty of exploitative teenage
rock n’ roll pictures and crime dramas offered as well. But from 1960 through
1964, Corman worked primarily – though not exclusively – producing and directing
an impressive slate of upscale horror classics.He had already given fans such soon-to-be low-budget cult favorites as Bucket of Blood (1959) and Little Shop of Horrors (1960).But in 1960 he more famously scored with House of Usher, the first of his iconic and
moody cycle of Poe and H.P. Lovecraft adaptations - many featuring Vincent
Price in roles as both tormentor and tormented.
One of Corman’s most important collaborators in his early
years was screenwriter Charles B. Griffith.Griffith would receive screenwriting credit – or co-credit – on no fewer
than eight of Corman’s earliest films 1956-59.The writer would later recall for Beast
from Haunted Cave he had been commissioned by Corman to essentially rework
the storyline of an earlier film they had crafted together – Naked Paradise (1957) aka Thunder Over Hawaii.Naked
Paradise, of which Griffith was brought on late to the project for a
re-write, was essentially a South Seas crime-drama set in a pineapple
plantation under the umbrella of a glistening sun.
Since that film had done well enough, Corman wanted to revisit
the scenario of Naked Paradise for the
reimagined crime drama titled Beast from
Haunted Cave.There would be a new
twist: the new scenario was to take place in and around a gold mining community
nestled in the dead winter snow of South Dakota’s Black Hills.Oh, and Corman advised Griffith that he also wanted
a genuine cave-dwelling monster thrown in for good measure - that sort of thing
was still selling.That was essentially
all the background material given to Griffith to get started on the project.
Despite its menacing title Beast from Haunted Cave appears more a crime-drama than horror
flick in the course of its 65-minute running time.The story revolves around the criminal doings
of a circle of bandits: chain-smoking mastermind Alexander Ward (Frank Wolff), his
two minions Marty Jones (Richard Sinatra) and Byron Smith (Wally Campo) and
Ward’s oft- inebriated “secretary” Gypsy Boulet (Sheila Carol).The thieves have gathered in the snow-capped
mountain winter of the pioneer town of Deadwood, South Dakota.Their plan is to plant an explosive in an
abandoned cave in the early hours of a quiet Sunday morning.The explosion is set merely as a strategic
ploy to distract authorities for a time, enabling the thieves’ free reign to
steal gold bars from an unattended payroll office of a local gold-mining
company.
Unfortunately, their plans don’t run smoothly.Ward’s dissatisfied and affection-starved
lover-secretary, Gypsy, has a bit of a drinking problem.She complicates matters when she falls hard for
ski instructor and trail guide Gil Jackson (Michael Forest), a swarthy,
dark-haired gentleman of gentle temperament. (As an aside, I occasionally had a
bit of trouble understanding actress Sheila Carol’s dialogue in this film: her
diction seemed a perplexing amalgam of drunken slurred words and a faux
Katherine Hepburn accent).The cold Ward
takes notice of his woman’s wandering eye but is unworried.He has plans to kill Jackson once the skier -
unwittingly - guides this gaggle of crooks on a cross-country trail run to a
remote location.
Ward had plans to rendezvous with a waiting plane to
ferry his gang - and their misbegotten treasure - off to safe sanctuary in
Canada.But this plan too is scuttled by
an unwelcome blizzard passing through the mountains.(As a second aside, Ward’s cross-country ski scheme
is surely the most ineffectual escape route ever mapped by criminals carrying weighted
gold bars in rucksacks.They really would
have done better just hightailing it out of town in their rented car). To complicate matters further – and this is
where the horror finally comes in - their explosive mine charge has awakened
the titular beast, sort of an upright walking, giant spider that collects his victims
by webbing them against cave walls and drinking their blood at his leisure.Let’s just say the moral of the story is a
familiar one: essentially, crime doesn’t pay.
In Corman’s attempt to make their chilly time in the
Black Hills more productive and worthwhile (i.e. profitable), the filming of Beast was to be produced back-to-back on
location in Deadwood with yet another Charles B. Griffith script, Ski Troop Attack.This second film was to be a somewhat more
ambitious project, a snow-bound WWII action-adventure pitting American
ski-troopers against their wintry Nazi counterparts.The Corman team would use the same primary
on-and off screen talents featured in the cast and credits of Beast for Ski Troop Attack.
The scenario of Ski
Troop Attack referentially takes place in the snow-capped mountains of
Germany’s Hürtgen Forest, circa
December 1944.A small American band of
ski-troopers are the only remaining Allied force active in this Nazi-controlled
region, hiding themselves behind enemy lines so they can spy and report on SS
ski-troop movements.The level-head
Lieutenant Factor (Forest), a graduate of the Army’s Officer Candidate School,
wishes to stay clear of engaging in active combat with the enemy.As the only team of Allied forces positioned
inside the Nazi-controlled German-Belgian border, it is Forest’s belief his
outfit should purposely avoid direct contact.He instead wants to concentrate his efforts on secret reconnaissance
missions.By acting as the covert eyes of
the good guys behind enemy lines, his outfit would be able to transmit vital
information on Nazi troop movements back to HQ.
But Factor is at loggerheads
with tough-talking Sergeant Potter (a mustache-less Wolff, again cast in a
“heavy” role).Potter is described by
Factor as an old school “regular army guy,” a man of pure fighting spirit but someone
strategically short-sighted.Potter desperately
wants to engage the Nazi ski-troopers in active combat and is mostly dismissive
of the Factor’s civilian background and wartime decision-making capabilities.Potter does get a number of chances to engage
in hand-to-hand combat.The film actually
offers no shortage of brutal on screen violence with competing ski-troops ambushing
and beating one another with fisticuffs, rifles butts, bayonets, knives and
machine-gun fire.
Ultimately, the American’s
decide to blow up a strategic railroad bridge that Allied air powers are unable
to access and target.But while
attempting to get to the base of the bridge to set off their detonators, they
must first successfully climb an ice-covered vertical cliff side.If this isn’t problematic or dangerous enough,
they must also fend off a team of six pursuing Nazi ski-troopers hot on their
trail.The German skiing contingent,
incidentally, is led by the badly-dubbed Roger Corman himself.The film’s climactic ending is, somewhat surprisingly
for this type of adventure, more bleak than celebratory.
Griffith’s screenplay is
actually far more nuanced than it is given credit for in the film’s original
round of reviews.The sensitively written
dialogue is mature – the scene where soldier Grammelsbacher (Sinatra) sits
around a campfire musing if somewhere out there there’s still “a bullet with my
name on it” – is particularly gripping.The better written dialogue also brings out better acting performances
of all involved – including Shelia Carol who appears midway through the film as
a spiteful German captive of the Americans.
The film does plod a bit.There’s a lot of wartime newsreel footage
interlaced throughout, and no matter how beautiful the mountain settings are
photographed, there’s far too many time-filling shots of ski-troopers silently
trudging cross-country style through the tundra.Having said that that, there’s also some
well-executed ski chase scenes captured on screen, such action-footage surprising
for a film shot on a threadbare budget.The soundtrack of the film is riddled with the sound of machine-gun fire
and a decent score courtesy of composer Fred Katz – though fans of Corman’s
earliest films will surely recognize a good number of Katz’s recycled musical
motifs are in play.
As both projects were to be shot on tight schedules,
Roger’s brother, Gene, stepped in as the de facto producer of Beast.Once a Hollywood agent, Gene Corman was co-founder (with Roger) of their
company Filmgroup, Inc.Gene’s earliest
entries as producer would include a number of exploitative sci-fi efforts such as
Night of the Blood Beast (1958) and Attack of the Giant Leeches (1959).With Roger set to both produce and direct Ski Troop Attack, the directorial duties of Beast were given to first-timer Monte Hellman - whose only previous
film experience was having worked as an apprentice editor at ABC-TV.
In his entertaining memoir, How I Made a Hundred Movies in Hollywood and Never Lost a Dime
(Random House, 1990), Roger Corman recalled the wintertime location shooting in
and around snowbound Deadwood as “unbearable” and “a very tough
challenge.”When shooting was to
commence on the peak of Mount Terry, Corman recorded temperatures of a frigid thirty-eight
degrees below zero.In the recollection
of script supervisor Kinta Zertuche, her primary job was simply “to find ways
to keep the film warm enough so it wouldn’t get brittle and crack.” She was
also deigned to find ways of keeping the production cameras from freezing – not
always successfully.
Production assistant Paul Rapp recalled he had been
tasked to drive the parsimonious Corman – and an automobile-filled cache of
film props - from Los Angeles to Deadwood, so the director “could save on
airfare and have an extra car on location.”When filming one downhill ski sequence, Corman accidentally set off a
small avalanche by shouting “Action!” too loudly through a bullhorn.Rapp recalled while the incident scared him
half-to-death, Corman quickly realized the potential visual impact of what the
camera was capturing.So the team was
commanded to continue to roll film, Corman exhorting via bullhorn that his terrified
skiers try their best to “Stay Ahead of the Avalanche!”
In March of 1959, there was a trade announcement that
“Corman’s distributing outfit, The Filmgroup,” was planning to release Beast from Haunted Cave nationally (paired
with The Wasp Woman) as early as June
1, with Ski Troop Attack (to be paired
with Task Force 38) a little more
than a month later, July 13.But neither
of those prospective release dates would actually roll out as planned, even
though the films themselves were
ready to roll.Beast would come closest to realizing its projected release date,
appearing on some screens in July 1959.
As early as February of 1960, Variety reported that the steamroller that was Filmgroup was
optimistically planning to roll out eight feature films a month between March
and June of 1960.Ski Troop Attack was to see release on the very tail end of that
schedule. The Hollywood Reporter suggested Filmgroup’s plan as more ambitious
than even originally announced: the company was planning on issuing no less
than twenty-four features over a
year’s period, with eleven of those titles already in the can and ready to go.
The company was also interested in testing international
markets. It was reported that the usually closed-to-outsiders Soviet film
market was interested in importing four Corman titles – including Beast and Ski – assuming whether or not Irving Allen, president of Canada’s
Astral Films, could finalize a deal while visiting London.Later in May of 1960, it was reported
Filmgroup had sealed another deal to distribute eight films – again, including Beast and Ski - throughout the Philippine islands.Finally, in August of 1960, Continental
Distributors would obtain rights of Filmgroup product for European markets.
But the U.S. market was of most concern to the filmmakers.On March 16, 1960, there was a very belated press
screening of the Beast and Wasp combo at the Hollywood Theatre. Variety was generally impressed with Hellman’s
Beast, but suggested the film’s scenario
was completely illogical.The critic
also pondered that perhaps interest in horror films was generally on the
wane.He opined, audiences were growing
“inured to monsters and hardly blink when this one guzzles its customary quota
of blood.”The review of Wasp was likewise middling in
praise.The trade noted, while the film
was certainly an “exploitable” passable entertainment, “it’s pretty slow and not
very frightening.”
The “official” premiere of Beast from Haunted Cave was to take place at dual locations in
South Dakota:Rapid City’s State Theatre
and the Hile-Hi Drive-in outside of Deadwood: the latter venue was to enjoy a
four day night run of Beast beginning
August 2, 1959.This was obviously a nod
of acknowledgment to the folks living in the area of the Black Mountain Hills
who hosted and assisted the film’s production.But no matter how well-intentioned the “premiere” honor, Beast from Haunted Cave and The Wasp Woman had already been
projected on screens in the mid and southwestern U.S. as early as July of ’59.
Earlier that spring, director Gene Corman had written
Allan “Birdie” Arnold of Deadwood’s Chamber of Commerce City Council, a champion
of the film shoot. “We saw a rough cut of our picture, it is very good and I’m
sure everyone who helped, especially you, will be proud and pleased,” Gene
wrote, adding, “I plan to make it a full length picture and hope to release it
in the summer.”For their assistance,
both Arnold and Mayor Ed Keene of Lead, South Dakota, were given “Technical
Advisor” credits on Beast.
A film that became a legendary bomb, the 1977 Western The White Buffalo has
been re-evaluated by movie fans in recent years and many consider it to
be an underrated classic. Count me out of this assessment. The film is
certainly unique: an ambitious attempt to blend the Western and horror
film genres, but it falls short on most counts.The United Artists
production stars Charles Bronson as Wild Bill Hickcok, who- for reasons
never adequately explained- is haunted by terrifying nightmares
involving him in a life-or-death confrontation with a giant white
buffalo. I didn't know that buffalo come in colors, but I'll cede the
point. (Given the dreadful styles of the 1970s, it's surprising the film
wasn't titled The Plaid Buffalo.) Simultaneously, Chief Crazy
Horse (Will Sampson) is having his own white buffalo problems. Seems the
actual rampaging beast wreaked havoc on his village and killed his
child. In order to restore his pride and stature among the tribe, he
must hunt down and slaughter the animal- or be stuck with the monicker
of "The Worm" henceforth. (This must be the Indian equivalent of
"nerd".)
The two men are on obsessive journeys and are destined to meet up -
but both feel they have the singular right to kill the buffalo. Hickcok
meanders through some cow towns under an alias and hooks up with a
mountain man geezer (Jack Warden, channeling the ghost of Gabby Hayes)
who decides to accompany him on his quest. When Hickcok and Crazy Horse
do meet up, they end up saving each other's life in respective ambushes
and declare themselves blood brothers. Despite this, each man is
determined to be the one who slays the white buffalo.
The film is moody and atmospheric and at times is offbeat enough
that, if it weren't for the Colorado scenery, one might suspect this is
an Italian Western. Nevertheless, the screenplay by producer, screenwriter and director Richard Sale (based
on his novel) is erratic and contains many disparate elements that never
blend together in a satisfactory manner. The film is peppered with
welcome appearances by many Western favorites (Stuart Whitman, Slim
Pickens, John Carradine) but their characters are superfluous and smack
of gimmicky cameos. Clint Walker shows up briefly, well-cast and playing
against type as a villain. There is also the rather odd presence of Kim
Novak in a nothing role as a good-hearted hooker who suffers the
humiliation of being rejected by Hickcok even as he shares her bed.
(This must be the first case of erectile dysfunction caused by a white
buffalo.)
The movie was an attempt by producer Dino De Laurentiis to exploit
the dying Western genre by finding a way to incorporate elements of Jaws. De
Laurentiis seemed to have a fixation on giant, mythic animals taking
vengeance on mankind, as he produced "King Kong", "Orca" and "The White
Buffalo" all within a two-year period. Despite
the prestigious cast and the fact that this was a United Artists
production, the budget was clearly skimpy. The film abounds with shoddy
rear screen projection shots and some amateurish sets, particularly in
the mountain sequences set at night. There's plenty of plastic snow and
the sets are somewhat less realistic than a Christmas window display at
Macy's. Then there is the titular character of which much has been
written in movie lore. Apparently devoid of anything other than a $20
bill for special effects work, the white buffalo is generally shot in
extreme closeup in very brief cuts to mask its ludicrous appearance.
Although the buffalo is seemingly immortal and can crash through
mountains of snow and cave walls, it never looks any more menacing than a
slightly perturbed mountain goat. The analogies to Moby Dick also
become a bit too obvious especially when Crazy Horse rides atop the
beast, flaying at it with a knife. (just like Ahab and the whale- get
it?) All of this is set to an atmospheric if somewhat low-key score by
John Barry that fits the proceedings well.
Perhaps the most unintentionally amusing aspect of the movie is the
initial meetings between Hickcok and Crazy Horse. The two men face each
other and gesture with elaborate Indian sign language- despite the fact
they are simultaneously speaking to each other in perfect English! This
is as practical as using signal flags to communicate with a dinner
companion and seems more suited to an episode of Police Squad.
Despite all of these criticisms, there is something admirable about the concept of The White Buffalo in
that the film at least tries to be an original take on an age-old
genre. It also represents one of the last movies in which Charles
Bronson at least tried to stretch his acting muscles. With his saggy
eyes and droopy mustache, he's perfectly cast as Hickcok. The failure of
this film seemed to discourage his professional ambitions. With a
couple of exceptions (Telefon, Death Hunt) Bronson went happily
into B movie hell, churning out low-rent but profitable potboilers aimed
at inner city and drive-in audiences. The shame of it is that he also
encouraged once respected directors like J. Lee Thompson and Michael
Winner to go along with him.
The White Buffalo was one of those major failures that initiated the virtual end of the Western film genre, and it was Heaven's Gate three
years later that nailed the coffin shut. The Bronson film has grown in
stature as a curiosity in the ensuing years and apologists claim that
the chintzy set pieces must have been intended in order to convey the
dream-like quality of the plot. Much the same has been said of
Hitchcock's Marnie, which was also heavily criticized for its
abysmal sets, rear screen production work and use of matte paintings.
However, in both cases the hypothesis seems unlikely. They were simply
troubled productions overseen by directors who seem to have lost
interest in their respective projects. Universal ended up losing money
on the Hitchcock drama while United Artists was forced to pick up the
tab for the buffalo bill, if you'll pardon the pun.
The White Buffalo has recently been re-released by Kino
Lorber
Studio Classics. The transfer is superb, which only makes the white
buffalo look even phonier, but that just adds to the fun. An original
trailer is included and this time around, a commentary track has been
added by Paul Talbot, author of the terrific "Bronson's Loose" books.
Talbot admits he's obsessed by Bronson and his films and provides a
master class on the making of The White Buffalo. His track is
highly informative, if lacking in humor, as he discusses the career
credits of virtually every actor who appears in a speaking role.
Talbot's contribution makes the film worth obtaining, even if you had
the earlier version.
The 1980s was a fun time to be a child. The monster
kids of the 1950s and 1960s may have had Forrest J. Ackerman and his Famous
Monsters of Filmland magazine, but we had full-blown horror content in
films ostensibly made for a young audience, from the melting Nazis in Raiders
of the Lost Ark or the terrifying library apparition in Ghostbusters,
to a melting Stripe in Joe Dante’s equally hilarious and scary Gremlins.
In this new book dedicated to horror films aimed at children, Catherine Lester begins
by drawing on early examples such as Frankenstein’s murder of the little
girl by its titular monster, along with other pre-code horrors that primarily
drew a young crowd, through to its modern, reanimated version, Tim Burton’s Frankenweenie.
The book then takes a deeper look at the ‘horrific’ childlike gremlins who both
commit violent acts and then have violence acted upon them (along with the
aforementioned Stripe, who can forget the gremlin in the microwave?). What
happens to the representation of children in the horror film when children are
the audience? Did the children in the audience take sympathy with the gremlins,
who let’s not forget, just happily sit watching Disney films with childlike
wonder when the adult world just leaves them alone? The violence combined with
the Looney Tunes tone of Gremlins caused some issues for the MPAA,
something which the book also goes into. Ultimately it led to the introduction
of the PG-13, apparently suggested by Steven Spielberg, the film’s producer,
who described the new rating as “PG with a little hot sauce on top.”
Lester also draws on another eighties staple,
The Monster Squad, a sort of The Goonies meets The Lost Boys
via Universal’s horror canon. By introducing the concept of the ‘Crazyspace’, a
space in which child characters are able to be the prime agents in dispatching
evil forces in the complete absence of adult supervision, the book explores the
way in which many films present children as autonomous and often superior to even
the most masculinised models of authority; in this case the kids defeat Dracula
and his fellow monsters before the US Army arrive, something which would have
been very different in the 1950s monster and science fiction movies, where it
was usually the army who saved the day.
Bringing the discussion into the 21st
Century, Lester also looks at the animated children’s horrors ParaNorman (one
of this reviewer’s favourites), Coraline and Monster House, along
with Joe Dante’s return to the children’s horror genre with 2009’s live action The
Hole. By covering almost a century of children's horror films, this book
makes for an insightful and entertaining examination of the horrific child and
the cathartic nature of the genre. For this reviewer, as a child horror was an
escape from the terrors of the real world, and as such it is a rewarding
experience to be able to read this major contribution to the study of these
strange and wonderful films. Horror Films for Children is highly
recommended, both the book and the films themselves!
Richard Roundtree, whose portrayal of New York City private eye John Shaft made the character an iconic pop culture symbol, has passed away from pancreatic cancer at age 81. Roundtree was not the first actor to elevate the the image of Black male characters on the big screen. Stars such as Sidney Poitier, Harry Belafonte, Jim Brown and Fred Williamson preceded him. However, Roundtree had his own inimitable style as Shaft: brash, self-assured and cocky. Poitier's detective Virgil Tibbs was also a ballsy man of action but, as a police officer, he still had to stay within the system. Roundtree's Shaft had his own rules and code of ethics. The success of "Shaft" for MGM in 1971 also was a milestone for director Gordon Parks, making him the first Black director of a highly successful big studio film. Isaac Hayes's Oscar-winning classic title song also helped elevate the film's success. The MGM production inspired two sequels: "Shaft's Big Score" and "Shaft in Africa" as well a a short-lived TV series starring Roundtree. The actor would also appear as the same character in spin-off feature films released in 2000 and 2019. However, there was far more to Roundtree's talents and career and he worked consistently in TV and films before and after the release of the original Shaft film. Click here for more.
With the Three Stooges hit movie putting the original boys back in the limelight, the New York Times takes a look at the underrated character actors who often bore the brunt of Moe, Larry, Curly and Shemp's destructive antics. Click here to read
I
hated William Friedkin’s 1985 police thriller, To Live and Die in L.A., when I first saw it. The mixture of
Eighties-style pop music by Wang Chung and the disreputable characters were, I
felt, meretricious and off-putting. Even the car chase seemed lackluster. I
also hated Dario Argento’s Four Flies on Grey Velvet (1972), James
Toback’s Fingers (1978) and David Lynch’s Blue Velvet (1986) during
my first viewings. Revisiting these titles soon afterwards made me realize that
I failed to fully appreciate or understand them. My ignorance of film was evident!
To
Live and Die in L.A., which
opened nationwide on Friday, November 1, 1985 to lukewarm notices and
underwhelming box office despite being championed by a four-star review by Roger
Ebert, is a highly stylized, dark, and uncompromising crime thriller that
boasts a then-unknown cast with a story and a pace that feels more suited to
the 1970s. It also contains what I consider to be the greatest car chase ever
filmed and edited for a major motion picture, which took no less than five
weeks to plan and shoot.
Having
seen Mr. Friedkin’s brilliant Oscar-winning East Coast police thriller The French Connection (1971), this West
Coast-based yarn centers on a Secret Service agent, Richard Chance (William
Petersen), whose best friend and partner Jim Hart (Michael Greene) has been
murdered in cold blood by artist/currency counterfeiter Rick Masters (Willem
Dafoe) just days prior to his retirement. This plot device occurred before it
became a familiar film trope, and this
is easily one of the best films of the 1980s. Chance has one goal: to put
Masters away for life with no regard for how he has to do it. Truthfully, he
would prefer to kill him. This causes many issues for his new partner John
Vukovich (John Pankow) whose familial lineage of law enforcement officers and his
“by the book” methodology conflicts with Chance’s no-bullshit headstrong attitude.
Vukovich’s unwillingness to go outside the boundaries of acceptability is
tested when: Chance surreptitiously removes crucial evidence from a crime scene
in order to get to Masters; Chance, without Vukovich’s knowledge, springs a
prisoner friend (John Turturro) of Masters to get him to testify; and most
notably forces Vukovich to go along with a plan to obtain cash needed to get
closer to Masters while nearly dying in what is arguably cinema’s most exciting
getaway car chase sequence. What makes the chase work so well is that it’s
physical, it’s possible (though highly improbable), and it’s not done in a Fast and the Furious, over-the-top sort
of way. Nor is it perfunctory as it comes as a result of an important plot
point, nearly besting the director’s own French Connection subway/car
chase with a headlong ride straight up the 710 Long Beach Freeway while driving
in the wrong direction against traffic.
Chance
also beds a willing parolee (Darlanne Fluegel) who gives him information on
current convicts in return for money to provide for herself and her son
Christopher. Like the inexorable Popeye Doyle in The French Connection who will stop at nothing to put drug dealers
and users away, Chance, like his surname, will stop at nothing to capture and
punish Masters. The difference between the two films is that the former paints
Brooklyn and New York City as gritty and almost despairing cities whereas the
latter bathes the frame in a Los Angeles that we have not seen before or since.
While also gritty, grimy and dark, this is a Lotus Land that is also highly
glossy and enticing, with beautiful people who are about as real as the
counterfeit bills that Masters manufactures. The overall theme and central
conceit of To Live and Die in L.A. is
fraudulence. People use each other for their own personal gains. Masters is an
artist but hates what he paints and burns his work in frustration. Since he
cannot find joy or satisfaction in his own originality, he resorts to copying
others, in this case $20, $50, and $100 bills in a procedure that is
painstaking, difficult, and now archaic.
Like
The French Connection, To Live and Die in LA is also based on a
book of the same name, this one a novel written by former Secret Service Agent
Gerald Petievich. What makes the film remarkable is the opening sequence which
features a martyr who shouts “Allahu Akbar” just before blowing himself up on
the roof of a hotel where then-President Reagan is giving a speech. This scene
made little sense to me upon my maiden viewing but is eerily prescient of the religious
extremism that has made its way to America’s shores.
The
performances are excellent all around. William Petersen, whose film debut was
as a bar bouncer in Michael Mann’s Thief (1981),
is terrific as Chance and plays him as a daredevil whose cowboy nature seals
his fate and makes him a dangerous person to be around. This is established in
an early sequence wherein Chance bungee jumps off the Vincent Thomas Bridge in
San Pedro, CA. In addition to the martyr sequence, this could also be one of
the earliest instances of this now highly popular activity’s depiction in a
film. John Pankow is also quite good as Chance’s conflicted partner. The stand-out
is Willem Dafoe as Masters, fresh from Walter Hill’s 1984 outing Streets of
Fire. His icy expressions and demeanor can change on a moment’s notice
without warning. Darlanne Fluegel, who heartbreakingly left us far too soon
following an early onset of Alzheimer’s Disease, is mysterious as Chance’s muse.
I first saw her in Battle Beyond the
Stars (1980). Debra Feuer is striking as Masters’ girlfriend and
confidante. The late Dean Stockwell is great as Masters’ lawyer - you can
almost see him prepping himself for the role of Ben in David Lynch’s aforementioned
and masterful Blue Velvet the
following year. Steve James is an actor I always liked ever since I first saw
him in the “Night Vigil” episode of T.J.
Hooker in 1984. He started in the industry as a stunt man in films as
diverse as The Wiz (1978), The Wanderers (1979), The
Warriors (1979), Dressed to Kill
(1980), and He Knows You’re Alone (1980)
prior to onscreen acting. Here he plays Jeff, one of Masters’ clients and his
performance, though small, shines. He also appeared in the William Friedkin
TV-movie C.A.T. Squad in 1986, which
was also written by Mr. Petievich. His premature death in 1993 from what is
rumored to be the medical treatment that he received after a cancer diagnosis
is a tremendous loss to the entertainment industry.
To Live and Die in L.A. has been released on home video many
times in the United States and is now available on 4K UHD Blu-ray courtesy of
Kino Lorber. The extras, which are ported over from the 2016 SHOUT! Factory
Special Edition Blu-ray and the 2003 MGM/UA Home Video DVD, are all included
and are as follows:
Disc
One:
-
4K UHD Blu-ray remastered from the original camera negative.
-
Audio Commentary by Director William Friedkin from 2003 – this runs the full length
of the film and is the only bonus to be included on both the 4K UHD disc and
the standard 1080p Blu-ray.
Disc
Two:
-
Standard 1080p Blu-ray down-converted from a 4K remastering from the original
camera negative.
-
Audio Commentary by Director William Friedkin from 2003.
-
Taking a Chance: Interview with Actor William Petersen (20:42, in high definition,
from 2016) – Gary Sinise read for the role of Richard Chance with the casting
director, but the role instead went to William Petersen after he read for it at
William Friedkin’s New York City apartment. A second reading with actor friend
John Pankow solidified their roles.
-
Renaissance Woman in L.A. Interview with Actress Debra Feuer (14:56, in
high definition, from 2016) – Ms. Feuer reminisces about how wonderful the
experience was for her. Despite the sexual angle of the film which made her
uncomfortable, the cast and crew made her receptive and accepted on the set. Her
role is small but important and I would love to see her in more films.
-
Doctor for a Day: Interview with Actor Dwier Brown (08:53, in high
definition, from 2016) – Dwier Brown talks about his excitement over reading
for the film. He would later go on to appear as Phil Sterling in Mr. Friedkin’s
1989 druid-horror film The Guardian, and humorously recalls how the
director forgot that he was in To Live and Die in L.A.
-
So in Phase - Scoring To Live and Die in L.A. Interview with Composers Wang
Chung (12:44, in high
definition, from 2016) – It’s amazing that Mr. Friedkin heard Wang Chung’s 1984
album Points on the Curve, in particular the song “Wait,” and explained
that that was the vibe that he wanted from the album for the film score. While
there is a soundtrack album available for this film, it’s incomplete, and I
hope that one day a full soundtrack album, remastered from the original master
tracks, will be issued. Wang Chung recalls some interesting anecdotes in this
onscreen interview.
-
Wrong Way - The Stunts of To Live and Die in L.A. Interview with Stunt
Coordinator Buddy Joe Hooker (35:39, in high definition, from 2016) – The
famous stunt man discusses the intricacies and challenges of filming one of the
most dangerous car chases ever mounted for a film. The director was all about disorienting
the audience, and that notion comes into play here in how the chase was staged
and ultimately executed.
-
Counterfeit World - The Making of To Live and Die in L.A. Documentary
(29:52, in standard definition, from 2003) – This is a fun look behind the
scenes with mini interviews from many of the cast and crew involved, with
discussions regarding the characterizations as portrayed by the actors and
actresses to filming the famed car chase.
-
Deleted Scene and Alternate Ending with Introductions (13:07) – this is
the ridiculous ending that the director shot to please the studio executives
and thankfully was never used. You won’t believe it when you see it.
Acclaimed actress Piper Laurie passed away recently at age 91. She was nominated for three Academy Awards for "The Hustler", "Carrie" and "Children of a Lesser God". Here is a rare extended interview with her from the 2022 TCM Film Festival.
Although the practice is all but obsolete today, for decades radio spots were used to promote new films to American audiences. For many of us, this was an era where you felt like your social status had improved immeasurably if your latest used car had the ability to pick up FM radio stations, even if the vehicle could be relied upon to break down several times a week. Radio spots generally ran in a variety of lengths ranging from 60 seconds to 10 seconds. Because they lacked visual elements, the producers of the tracks often used sensationalistic tactics to gain the attention of listeners, often stressing the most comedic or shocking elements of the film depending upon its subject matter. As with all things nostalgic, there is a passionate interest in radio spots among some retro movie fans who collect the vinyl discs. Most were released on 45 RPM but in earlier versions from the 1950s, they were usually on 33 1/3" records.
Here is an original 1973 radio spot for William Friedkin's "The Exorcist".
Presented in two parts, here is an appearance by Clint Eastwood on "The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson" from 1973. In the first segment, Eastwood discusses having to fill in for an absent Charlton Heston at the Oscars and also discusses making the "Man with No Name" films in Spain.
In the second segment, Eastwood joins in a comical debate about pigs and horses and makes some comments about the violence in his films.
Actor Burt Young's family has announced the Oscar-nominated star who brought the character of Paulie to life in the "Rocky" film series has passed away at age 83. No cause of death has been indicated. "The Today Show" ran this video tribute to Young.
"The Hawaiians" was regarded as a cinematic misfire, was released in England under the title Master of the Islands. The
1970 big budget movie was a critical and commercial failure in its day,
but evaluating it after all these years leads the viewer to accentuate
its many positive elements. The story is actually an official
continuation of James Michener's Hawaii, which was made into a
major film in 1966 that curiously also underwhelmed critics and public.
This sequel doesn't have the epic proportions of its predecessor, but it
does boast some impressively lush production values and a typically
enticing score by Henry Mancini. For this film, Heston reunited with director Tom Gries, with whom he made the vastly under-appreciated 1968 Western "Will Penny"which
Heston regarded as one of his most satisfying artistic accomplishments.
He is cast against type here in a somewhat unsympathetic role during a
period of his career in which he was typically cast as a stalwart heroic
figure. Heston plays Whip Hoxworth, a hard-nosed sea captain who
transports luckless Chinese immigrants to Hawaii where they become
cheated, abused and enter into what amounts to indentured servitude. The
opening sequence finds the Chinese crammed into the sweltering hold of
the ship and falling victim to illness and malnutrition. Hoxworth only
adds to their misery by applying beatings and coldly calculating his
human cargo in terms of acceptable deaths, 'lest his ultimate profits
fall short of expectations. Hoxworth is the black sheep of a wealthy
family. He is cut out of his father's will and has a contentious
relationship with his siblings, who have little use for him. Barred from
further sea duties, he is relegated to a failing plantation which he is
determined to turn into a success, if only to spite his relatives.
Geraldine Chaplin is his half-Hawaiian wife, whom he adores but who, for
reasons never satisfactorily explained in the script, turns frigid
after their son is born.
The film tells a parallel story about
the plight of two immigrants who work on his plantation: Nyuk Tsin (Tina
Chen) and Mun Ki (Mako), two people who, through necessity, live as man
and wife even though Mun Ki tells Nyuk Tsin that the children she has
borne him will not be considered hers. Instead, Chinese tradition
dictates that they will ultimately return to China where his wife will
assume the mantle of mother and Nyuk Tsin will be relegated to the
status of an aunt. The couple's hard work appeals to Hoxworth's
generally dormant sympathies and he allows them to prosper financially,
especially when they successfully grow the first pineapples on Hawaii - a
development that makes Hoxworth rich. However, the film piles crisis
upon crisis on each of the major characters, including political
intrigue, armed revolution and, in particularly affecting sequences,
outbreaks of leprosy and plague. John Phillip Law appears late in the
134-minute film as Heston's grown son, whose humanitarianism brings him
into direct conflict with his father's Machevellian ways.
The Hawiians is big-budget soap
opera at every level, but it's a consistently engrossing one. Heston
excels playing part that takes him into new territory as an actor. The
supporting cast is equally good, with both Mako and Tina Chen giving
outstanding performances. It can't be said that the film is an
unqualified success, but it's never boring and it probably seems more
impressive today than it did at the time of its initial release. It
should be mentioned that the movie has a fine score by Henry Mancini.
There are worse fates than spending a couple of hours with Heston under
any circumstance.
(Now streaming on Screenpix, available to Amazon Prime subscribers for $2.99 a month.)
Ed Sullivan usually concentrated on inviting performers to appear on his top-rated Sunday night TV show. But Kirk Douglas wasn't a comedian, singer or dancer. Yet, because he was an old friend of Ed's with roots in the same hometown, Ed invited him on his show to plug his new film, the impressive but ill-fated "Cast a Giant Shadow".
Cinema Retro has received the following press release:
"Fans
can plumb the depths of the horror genre with this collectible box set
featuring five unforgettable movies, all in eye-popping 4K Ultra HD,
along with over four hours of legacy special features and exclusive
collectible items. Housed in deluxe packaging, each of the following
films is presented in a special sleeve with artwork exclusive to the
collection— Rosemary's Baby (1968) · Pet Sematary (1989) · Smile (2022) ·
Crawl (2019) · and a special mystery title making its 4K Ultra HD
debut. The PARAMOUNT SCARES VOL. 1 Limited-Edition 4K Blu-ray Box Set
also boasts collectible items, including an exclusive, full-size
Fangoria magazine produced especially for the release. This special
edition of the celebrated publication—"first in fright" since
1979—features a curated selection of new and classic articles from the
magazine's archives. The set also includes a Paramount Scares enamel
pin, unique stickers, and access to a Digital copy of each film. •
Rosemary’s Baby (1968) • Pet Sematary (1989) • Crawl (2019) • Smile
(2022) • “Mystery” Exclusive 5th Feature."
Sam Peckinpah made some great movies but even the best of them were often associated with unpleasant aspects during production and in the release of the films. Peckinpah's maverick personality, hard drinking and drug use resulted in big problems with studio brass. Sometimes his films would be severely edited against his wishes. By 1974, Peckinpah's personal problems were worsening, as were his relationships with the studios. Yet, he found great satisfaction with his bizarre crime film "Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia". The movie received mixed reviews at the time and wasn't a major hit, but Peckinpah enjoyed the rare artistic freedom he was given by the studio to make the film his way. The movie has since become a cult favorite among retro movie fans- and even if it doesn't appeal to you, it's never boring and you can relish Peckinpah pal Warren Oates in a rare starring role. (Lee Pfeiffer)
Remember the gloriously cheesy 1967 James Bond spoof Operation Kid Brother? It starred Sean Connery's younger brother Neil in an attempt to capitalize on the 007 craze. The bizarre film did boast some first-rate talent including an assortment of alumni from the "real" Bond movies including Daniela Bianchi, Adolfo Celi, Anthony Dawson, Lois Maxwell and Bernard Lee (the latter two blatantly recreating their "M"/Monepenny relationship). The film is fun and represents a guilty pleasure. It also includes a catchy theme song by Ennio Morricone, yes, that Ennio Morricone! Making the situation even stranger is that Neil Connery (who is badly dubbed in the movie) is referred to as "Connery"! (For an 8-page report on the making of the film, including an interview with Neil Connery, see Cinema Retro issue #12). The trailer presented here is appropriately of grind house quality. The film was released in different countries under different titles including "O.K. Connery!", the name of the opening song. The film has never received a quality home video release, having been relegated to bargain basement labels. However, the good news is that it is streaming on Amazon Prime. The print used is probably the best presentation of the movie you will find.
Actor Mark Goddard has passed away at age 87. Goddard was primarily known for his role as the hunky Major Don West in Irwin Allen's cult classic TV series "Lost in Space", which ran between 1965-1968. Goddard had a long list of credits in television series and motion pictures but found himself typecast with the character he played in the show. He eventually left show business and became a highly respected special education teacher, although he was a popular figure at fan conventions throughout the decades. For more, click here.
As
a kid, I watched “Bourbon Street Beat” (1959-60), a Warner Brothers TV series
starring Richard Long and Andrew Duggan as two private detectives in New
Orleans, Rex and Cal.Even in those days
of generally undemanding audiences, most grown-up viewers probably realized
something I didn’t as a nine-year-old.“Bourbon Street Beat” was produced on nickels and dimes like every other
Warner Brothers PI and Western series of the day, and authentic New Orleans
backdrops were limited to a fleeting street shot of the French Quarter, taken
from stock footage.Everything else was
filmed on the Warners backlot in Burbank, including a partial exterior set
representing the Absinthe House at 240 Bourbon Street where the two private
eyes supposedly held down their office.With a quick switch, the detectives’ window looking out on the Vieux Carre
could be transformed into a window looking out on Waikiki, once this week’s
episode wrapped and filming began tomorrow for “Hawaiian Eye.” The most
authentic element of the show may have been Arlene Howell, a gorgeous model and
former Miss Louisiana who played Rex and Cal’s secretary, Melody Lee.Certainly, she was a better reason to tune in
than the archival footage.
Fast-forward
to 1986 and “The Big Easy,” a crime drama with on-location street scenes and
Crescent City atmosphere in abundance.Budgets and audience expectations had come a long way since “Bourbon
Street Beat.”The movie, directed by Jim
McBride, is available from Kino Lorber Studio Classics on Blu-ray.It opens with Detective-Lieutenant Remy McSwain
(Dennis Quaid) investigating the murder of a hit man that he and his fellow
officers in the New Orleans Police Department quickly attribute to a war
between rival organized crime gangs, one commanded by an aging mafia capo (Marc
Lawrence) and the other by a Black kingpin, Daddy Manton (Solomon Burke).The theory begins to unravel when Assistant
District Attorney Anne Osborne (Ellen Barkin) looks into the case and calls
McSwain’s conclusion premature.She is
as strait-laced as the half-Irish, half-Cajun McSwain is uninhibited, and offended
by his offhand acceptance of free meals at restaurants and other gratuities as
perks that go with his badge.So
naturally, in the usual Hollywood formula prizing sexual chemistry over logic,
the two quickly get a thing going.But
duty intrudes.Remy is caught in an
Internal Affairs sting operation, and Anne faces him in court as the chief
prosecutor.Meanwhile, additional mob
gunmen are murdered.McSwain examines
new clues with a more critical eye as they begin to pile up, and he comes to
agree with Anne.A gang war isn’t as
air-tight an explanation as he’d first thought.
Well-cast
with Ned Beatty, John Goodman, and Charles Ludlam in supporting roles, “The Big
Easy” was a respectable hit, even launching a 1996-97 TV series
executive-produced by Daniel Petrie Jr., who wrote the script for the
movie.Quaid and Barkin, both rising
talents, were a big draw, as were McBride’s plentiful scenes of zydeco parties,
crawfish boils, dinner at Antoine’s, and other exotic rituals in those days
before the Mardi Gras Week marathons on the Travel Channel and the Food
Channel. For fans of detective films who want scripts to cut to the chase,
though, there may be too much of Remy’s toothy flirting with Anne and too much
jambalaya in the first half of the movie, which begins to drag. But the pace
picks up in the second half with clever plot twists and a couple of crisply
directed action scenes, in which Quaid appears to do his less dangerous
physical stunts. Full disclosure, I have three degrees of separation from
Dennis Quaid, through someone who knows members of the Quaid family, but fuller
disclosure, I’ve never met the actor and I’m sure, never will.
The
Kino Lorber release of “The Big Easy” presents a rich image at the 1.85:1
aspect and informative audio commentary from Jim McBride, moderated by filmmaker
Douglas Hosdale. McBride offers interesting behind-the-scenes anecdotes,
including an explanation of how the great R&B singer Solomon Burke was cast
as Daddy Manton. Burke is one of two surprise faces in the cast. The other is
former New Orleans district attorney and Kennedy conspiracy theorist Jim
Garrison, who held a Louisiana state appeals court judgeship from 1978 until
his death in 1992. Garrison plays Judge Jim Garrison, who presides over Remy
McSwain’s bribery trial, much as the Beatles, Nicholas Cage, Tommy and Jimmy
Dorsey, Alan Freed, John Malkovich, and others have played “themselves” on the
screen.
The Blu-ray edition
of “The Big Easy” also includes trailers for several other Kino Lorber crime
movies and SDH captions for those of us old enough to remember who Jim Garrison
was.
In 1984, James Cameron’s immortal classic The Terminator—a film about an almost
unstoppable killer cyborg—was unleashed upon an unsuspecting public and it
quickly became a critical and commercial success. Three years later, Paul
Verhoeven’s Robocop—which told the
story of a seriously wounded police officer being put back together with
robotic parts and brought back to active duty—flooded theater screens and, just
like The Terminator, became a
phenomenal success. That same year saw the release of a low budget, sci-fi
actioner titled Programmed to Kill
which not only borrowed heavily from both films, but also pre-dated 1992’s Universal Soldier; a movie with a
similar plot.
Written by Robert Short and directed by Allan
Holzman, Programmed to Kill tells the
tale of ruthless Middle Eastern terrorist Samira (Sandahl Bergman) who, after
completing a horrible mass shooting at a marketplace in Greece, is stopped and
seriously injured by former CIA agent Eric Matthews (Robert Ginty). Samira is
then taken to the United States where she is transformed into an obedient
cyborg killing machine. Programmed to wipe out her elite team, she is then sent
back to the Middle East. However, after completing her mission, Samira regains
her memory and begins violently assassinating her CIA enemies. Is there anyone
who can stop her out-of-control bionic rampage?
Also known as The Retaliator, Programmed
to Kill is a fun, low-budget 80s action film with a gripping, if
derivative, story; a solid cast and exciting action sequences (well-handled by
director Holzman). At a brief 91minutes, the movie never overstays its welcome.
If, like me, you’re a fan of 80s action flicks, Robert Ginty, Sandahl Bergman
or all three, you won’t be disappointed.
Programmed to Kill has been released on
a Region One Blu-ray and is presented in its original 1.85:1 aspect ratio. The
film’s brand new HD master from a 2K scan of the 35MM interpositive looks
fantastic. The special features include an informative audio commentary by
director Allan Holzman (moderated by filmmaker Douglas Hosdale); an interview
with screenwriter Robert Short; an alternate opening credit, and the theatrical
trailer. The Blu-ray also comes with a very cool-looking slipcover, and
reversible artwork featuring the movie’s alternate title The Retaliator. Fun stuff. Check it out.
To hardcore horror fans, the filmmaking team
of Jeffrey Obrow and Stephen Carpenter is well known. The dynamic duo first
appeared on the horror scene in 1982 when they directed the cult slasher film The Dorm That Dripped Blood aka Pranks, a movie that featured the big
screen debut of actress Daphne Zuniga and, thanks to a murder scene involving a
drill, was put on the UK’s infamous “Video Nasty” list. Obrow and Carpenter’s
sophomore effort would be 1984’s The
Power, a supernatural tale about a man who becomes possessed by an evil
Aztec doll. Recently, the creative team’s third film, a creature feature titled The Kindred, was released on Blu-ray.
The Kindred (1987)concerns scientist
John Hollins (David Allen Brooks) who, at the behest of his dying mother—a
molecular scientist played by Kim Hunter—returns to her home with Melissa
Leftridge (Amanda Pays) and several of his friends in order to destroy the
“Anthony Journals”; his mother’s notes detailing her genetic experiments.
However, evil scientist Phillip Lloyd (Rod Steiger) desperately wants the
journals so that he can continue the unholy experiments himself. But there’s
another problem—John’s murderous “brother”, Anthony, a horrible-looking,
tentacled creature born from genetic experimentation, is lurking somewhere in
their mother’s old house and he’s not a happy camper.
Besides once again directing, Obrow and
Carpenter also co-wrote The Kindred
(along with John Penney, Earl Ghaffari and the legendary Joseph Stefano) while
Obrow produced and Carpenter handled the cinematography. Shot in California,
this is a well-made and enjoyable 80s horror flick with lots of amazing, gooey
special effects (one of the main reasons to watch the movie) by Academy Award
winner Matthew Mungle, and a decent-looking creature. The film’s talented cast
also includes Talia Balsam, Peter Frechette and Julia Montgomery, and there’s a
memorable musical score by Oscar nominated composer David Newman.
The Kindred has been released on
a region 1, 2 and 3 Blu-ray by Synapse Films and it is presented in its
original 1.78:1 aspect ratio. The 4K HD remaster of the unrated version is
flawless and it has a new 5.1 English stereo surround remix as well. (The
original 2.0 mono theatrical mix is also included along with optional English
subtitles for the deaf and hard of hearing.) The disc not only contains an
informative audio commentary by directors Obrow and Carpenter (moderated by
horror journalist Steve Barton), but it also features a terrific, all-new 52
minute documentary titled Inhuman
Experiments-The Making of “The Kindred”; an interesting 18 minute
featurette showing effects artist Michael McCracken Jr.’s never-before-seen
on-set footage, as well as a still gallery, storyboards, trailers and TV spots.
Pure 80s fun. Recommended.
The
following press release was received from The History Press.
“The 007
Diaries: Filming Live and Let Die” (Fine Press Edition) By Sir Roger
Moore KBE
9781803992600
240 pages
4 October 2023, £350
· Will
feature a new foreword from actress Madeline Smith (Agent Caruso in Live and
Let Die) as well as an existing foreword by the late, great David Hedison
(Felix Leiter)
· James
Bond is synonymous with luxury, high-end products, and Bond fans typically seek
these out (see 007store.com for examples)
· Live
and Let Die is a much-loved and iconic Bond film, which lends itself to
this format · Will include some more rare images from the filming of Live
and Let Die
· The book will be individually numbered, beautifully produced, complete
with slipcase
Out of
print for over forty years, The 007 Diaries introduces Roger Moore’s
James Bond Diary to a new generation of fans. To tie in with the release of
his first James Bond film, Live and Let Die, Roger Moore agreed to keep
a day-by-day diary throughout the film’s production, which would be published
just ahead of the premiere in July 1973. From his unveiling as the new 007 in
1972 through to his first scenes on location in New Orleans and his final shot
in New York, Moore describes his whirlwind journey as cinema’s most famous
secret agent. Taking in the sights of Jamaica before returning to Pinewood
Studios, Moore’s razor wit and unique brand of humour is ever present. With
tales from every location, including his encounters with his co-stars and key
crew members, Moore offers the reader an unusually candid, amusing and hugely
insightful behind-the-scenes look into the world’s most successful film
franchise.
AUTHOR
DETAILS
SIR ROGER
MOORE KBE had an extraordinary career that spanned seven decades, from early
television to the golden age of Hollywood and on to international superstardom.
Dashing, handsome and every inch the archetypal English gentleman, he was
unforgettable as the title character in The Saint and as Lord Brett Sinclair in
The Persuaders! But it was as James Bond where he made his mark, playing the
most debonair of the 007s in seven blockbusting films.
Film Masters is a new classic film
restoration and distribution company formed by industry veteran and film
historian Phil Hopkins. The company launched on September 26th with an
impressive, region-free Blu-ray release. For decades, dating back to the humble
early beginnings of the home video cassette, these two public domain favourites
seemed to once flood the market. Often struck and scanned from poor quality
16mm prints, the process and distribution hardly helped the reputation of these
two low-budget slices of fifties science fiction. Of course, there’s no getting
away from the fact that The Giant Gila Monster (1959) and The Killer Shrews
(1959) were ever going to be regarded as stunning examples of quality science
fiction, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that they can’t be considered as
hugely entertaining and enjoyable vehicles.
Both films (directed by Ray Kellogg) were
originally released as a drive-in, double-bill feature in 1959. Bringing both
films together here, each with their own dedicated disc, not only makes perfect
sense, but offers a nice form of symmetry – giving the overall package
additional logic and weight. It’s a decision that also offers a degree of
‘worth’ for fans and collectors. Fans are an appreciative group of people, so
this collective form of package will only help Film Masters in gaining a healthy
reputation and a certain degree of loyalty.
Beginning with what appears to be the leading
feature, The Giant Gila Monster opens with a young couple, Pat (Grady Vaughn)
and Liz (Yolanda Salas), parked in a bleak, rural locale overlooking a ravine.
A giant Gila monster attacks the car, sending it into the ravine and killing
the couple. Later, several friends of the couple assist the local sheriff (Fred
Graham) in his search for the missing teens. Chase Winstead (Don Sullivan), a
young mechanic and hot rod racer, locates the crashed car in the ravine and
finds evidence of the giant lizard. However, it is only when the hungry reptile
attacks a train that the authorities realise they are dealing with a giant
venomous lizard. By this time, emboldened by its attacks and hungry for prey,
the creature attacks the town. It heads for the local dance hall, where the
town's teenagers are gathered for a hop.
Filmed near Dallas, Texas, the film was
budgeted at $175,000 and was produced by Dallas drive-in theatre chain owner
Gordon McLendon who wanted co-features for his main attractions. McLendon shot
the film back-to-back with The Killer Shrews. In exchange for providing the
special effects, Ray Kellogg was allowed to direct the film, while Curtis
allowed his lead Don Sullivan to pick and perform three songs. The reasoning
not only helped in padding out the action but also served in targeting the healthy
teenage market. Don Sullivan, a veteran of several low-budget monster movies,
proves to be confident in both his role and surroundings, while Lisa Simone (a
former French contestant for the 1957 Miss Universe contest) is arguably a
little more wooden and uncomfortable.
For the best part, Ray Kellogg’s special
effects work adequately well. With such a low budget, there was little
consideration for an established name such as Ray Harryhausen and his
stop-motion animation. So instead, a live Mexican beaded lizard was shot against
scaled-down model landscapes and sets. This technique wasn’t anything new, iguanas
and chameleons were also being used the very same year over at 20th
Century Fox for their adaptation of Journey to the Center of the Earth (1959). The Giant Gila Monster (naturally) was not afforded
the same budget, it was simply a locally made film that was marketed and sold
in a very clever way, making sure it received both nationwide and foreign
distribution. But above all, it remains hugely enjoyable and serves as a
reminder of far less serious times in terms of filmmaking on a shoestring.
As for the video’s quality, this new 4K scan
from original 35mm material, looks incredibly good. Sharpness, contrast and
sound are all highly impressive. Film Masters have provided a new level of
respect for this minor league classic, and the results have really raised its
once questionable profile. There is also an option of watching the film in
either a TV ratio (standard 1.33:1) or a theatrical version (1.85:1). I opted
for the theatrical version for reviewing which works perfectly well.
Film Masters have also provided some very
nice bonus features. Heading these is a full-length
audio commentary by Larry Strothe, James Gonis, Shawn Sheridan, and Matt
Weinhold from The Monster Party Podcast. As the name suggests, this is a light-hearted
overview but nevertheless thoroughly enjoyable. The group offer a cheekily
mocking level of critique but never in with a cruel intension. The common
denominator is obviously a shared love for the film. The group manage to unearth
some excellent production detail and history, often quoting from original
source material such as pressbooks and publicity from its time of release.
There is also a restored and remastered
original theatrical trailer and a very enjoyable archival audio interview with
star Don Sullivan (1929- 2018). Asking the questions is author Bryan Senn, who
digs deep in extracting as much detail as possible. Sullivan appears happy to
answer anything he can recall, and the interview is relaxed and unhurried.
Despite the audio quality which occasionally wavers (the source sounds to be
via a telephone) it remains interesting throughout and offers a unique,
first-hand insight.
Next up is The Killer Shrews (1959), again
directed by Ray Kellogg and utilising most of the
same production crew. The story follows a group of researchers who are trapped
in their remote island compound overnight by a hurricane and find themselves
under siege by their abnormally large and venomous mutant test subjects, the
shrews. Captain Thorne Sherman and first mate Rook Griswold deliver supplies by
ship to a research compound on the remote island. The station inhabitants
(scientist Marlowe Craigis, his research assistant Radford Baines, Marlowe's
daughter Ann, her fiancé Jerry Farrel, and a servant Mario) give them a cold
welcome and direct them to unload the ship and leave immediately. Marlowe
explains he has been trying to isolate the genes responsible for growth and
metabolism in order to shrink humans to half their size so as to reduce the
impact of human overpopulation. He uses shrews as test animals due to their
short lifespan, allowing him to track results over multiple generations.
However, Marlowe's experiments have created a batch of mutant wolf-sized shrews
which have escaped. The group barricade themselves inside their compound every
evening before the sun sets due to the creatures' nocturnal feeding habits.
They have not contacted the coast guard so that they can complete their
research, predicting that the shrews will cannibalize each other once they have
consumed all other food on the island.
And so begins this really enjoyable little
romp. Catching up with this film once again reminded me of just how good this
film really is. In fact, I’ll come right out and say it – I still think this is
the superior film when compared to The Giant Gila
Monster. The whole concept of a group of people trapped in a secluded and
isolated locale is one that still proves effective. The film is often compared
to that of George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead made some 9 years later in
1968. If you take that concept, replacing the zombies with wild, oversized,
very hungry shrews, then you get the general idea. Yes, one could argue that
(on paper) the whole idea sounds rather ludicrous. But the film has some really
creative and effective moments, especially for 1959. Considering that the ($123,000)
budget for The Killer Shrews was even tighter than that of The Giant Gila
Monster, the results are even more impressive.
Ray Kellogg makes exceptional good use of his
special effects background. OK, so the shrews were in actual fact large coonhound
dogs dressed up with long carpeted hair and Saber fangs. And close-up shots
were nothing more than mere hand puppets! But somehow, the effects still work.
Good use of sound effects also provides an eerie warning of the shrews’ imminent
arrival. Clever quick editing also adds to the film’s overall sense of tension
and drama. In fact, there are also some cleverly constructed jump shock moments
and some particularly gruesome scenes – not to mention a ludicrously ingenious
escape plan! So, The Killer Shrews has a great deal of positives in its favour
and is well worth a re-evaluation – especially in this sparkling new transfer.
As with The Giant Gila Monster, Film Masters have afforded The Killer Shrews with
another equally high-quality transfer. I thought it looked quite faultless
actually, a nice clean, crisp transfer with lovely deep black tones and contrast.
The audio again is also clear and sharp throughout its duration. Again, there
is an option to view in either 1.33:1 or in 1.85:1 aspect ratio.
The bonus features are very enjoyable,
consisting of another full-length audio commentary this time provided by author
Jason A. Ney. This commentary offers a more scholarly, academic approach which
is both informative and enjoyable in equal measure. Ray Kellogg – An Unsung Master
is a fascinating Ballyhoo motion pictures documentary exploring the life and
career of the director. And to round off the disc is a large collection of
original radio spots for each movie courtesy of Gary L. Prange. Inside there is
also a full colour, 22-page booklet with essays by Don Stradley and Jason A.
Ney.
Overall, Film Masters have delivered a very
impressive debut package. With the hope of producing similarly styled releases
on a monthly basis, there’s certainly a great deal more to look forward to and
their efforts should be applauded.
(Darren Allison is the Soundtracks Editor for Cinema Retro.)
Steve Martin was a staff writer for "The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour" on CBS in 1968 when he was afforded an opportunity to perform on camera as an inept magician. The rest is history...
(To view in a larger format, click on "Watch on YouTube".)
Step
up, step up, don’t be shy! Come one, come all, to the fabulous and terrifying
sideshow!
Just
in time for Halloween, Cinema Retro enthusiastically welcomes The
Criterion Collection’s new 2-disk Blu-ray box set release, Tod Browning’s
Sideshow Shockers, which is a triple feature extravaganza containing a highly
anticipated high definition presentation of the classic and controversial 1932
pre-code horror film, Freaks, and two earlier rare silent films, The
Unknown (1927) and The Mystic (1925). All three have in common the
circus/carnival/sideshow milieu in their stories, and all have similar themes
focusing on the concept of “the other.” Interestingly, all three are more
relevant today than ever.
When
approaching this marvelous set of pictures, one must understand a little about
the director, Tod Browning. Thankfully, we have as a supplement the immensely
listenable and entertaining interview with acclaimed author and TV showrunner,
the erudite Megan Abbott, who gives us in thirty minutes a comprehensive
character study of Browning and comments about the three films. As Abbott
explains, Browning was someone who actually did “run away to join the
circus” as a young man, and he spent a great part of his life in that world. It
is no surprise, then, that many of his films deal with that universe and the
beings who inhabit it. Abbott’s presentation here is practically worth the
price of admission… except that we have a three-ring circus of significant and
wondrous motion pictures also in the box.
Freaks, of course, is the
main attraction, as it has never been released on Blu-ray in America or the UK
prior to now (Warner Brothers released a DVD years ago). Considered one of the
most unusual movies ever produced in Hollywood, as well as one that has been
banned in many territories, pulled from release, re-issued, chopped up, and
once held as an example of Tinsel Town’s depravity and exploitative nature, Freaks
is actually a masterpiece of cinema. (Is there anyone who has seen Freaks
who hasn’t ever recited the famous line, “Gooba gobba, gooble gobble, one
of us, one of us!”?)
The
story concerns Hans (Harry Earles), a little person who works in the sideshow
of a traveling circus. He is engaged to be married to another little person,
Frieda (Daisy Earles, in real life Harry’s sister), and he happens to have an
inheritance of some value. Cleopatra (Olga Baclanova) is, as Hans calls her, a
“big person.” She is a beautiful trapeze artist, and Hans has an unrealistic
crush on her, much to Frieda’s displeasure. Cleopatra’s beau, though, is
Hercules (Henry Victor), the strongman. Cleopatra and Hercules conspire to bilk
Hans out of his fortune, first by Cleopatra seducing Hans and getting him to
propose to her. After the marriage, they will poison him, and she will inherit
the money; then Cleo and Hercules can run away together and leave behind the
circus life. Friends of the sideshow people, clown Phroso and seal trainer
Venus (Wallace Ford and Leila Hyams), are a romantic couple (also “big
people”), try to look out for Hans’ interests, but fail. The other sideshow
personnel decide to get revenge for Hans, and the results are not pretty.
Browning,
who knew and worked with real sideshow performers, cast them in the movie.
Besides the several little people, there are a few individuals with microcephaly
(then known by the derogatory term “pinheads”), a “human skeleton,” conjoined
twins, a bearded lady, men and women without limbs, an “intersex” person, and
others. Back in the old days of circus sideshows, audiences paid money to view
these “freaks of nature” to be horrified and thrilled. Sadly, practically the
only way these individuals could make a living was by displaying themselves in
such a fashion.
When
Freaks was first released, the reaction from audiences was exactly what
it would have been at a circus sideshow—one of horror and revulsion. As a
result, MGM, the studio that released the picture, realized that they had a
bomb on their hands and pulled it from release. In the late 1940s, exploitation
film distributor Dwayne Esper bought the rights and re-exhibited it as an
exploitation film, which didn’t help the movie’s reputation. Freaks was
terribly misunderstood for decades and remained so until the 1960s, when the
era of youth rebellion and the collapse of the Production Code allowed for more
freedom of expression in art and from audiences. Once the long-haired young
people began referring to themselves as “freaks” and having “freak outs,”
suddenly a film entitled Freaks had new meaning. The movie was reissued
to play on college campuses and as a midnight movie in art houses—and it found
new life and support.
Browning’s
picture was never really meant to cause disgust in the audience. His intent was
for the audience to empathize and root for the “freaks.” This is a film
in which the actors with disabilities and “otherness” are the heroes, battling
for the dignity and respect they deserve from the conniving and evil “normal”
people who are criminals. Browning simply used the thriller genre as a means to
tell the story. But in 1932, audiences could not get past the sideshow aspect
of what they were looking at. They didn’t get it.
Thankfully,
now we do. Yes, Freaks is hailed as one of the great horror films,
but it is also a respectful look at congenital disabilities and a compassionate,
endearing examination of the human condition (which leads to the question—is it
really a horror film?).
Criterion’s
new 2K digital restoration (with uncompressed monaural soundtrack) looks
gorgeous (except for the final one-minute epilogue, which, due to poor quality
source material, could not be improved). There is a new commentary by Browning
expert and film scholar David J. Skal (different from the one on the former
Warners DVD). Supplements pertaining to Freaks are all of those that
appeared on the Warners disk (an hour long documentary on the making of the
film, a look at the alternate endings, and the excised exploitation-release
prologue), plus a new video gallery of many stills and portraits from the film,
and the 2019 audio podcast of Kristen Lopez’s Ticklish Business.
The
Unknown
was a 1927 silent picture by Browning starring the great Lon Chaney in one of
his most acclaimed performances as a sideshow performer with no arms. His
pretzel-like feats in the film to achieve this illusion are masterful, but we
learn from the commentary and Megan Abbott’s interview that Chaney had help
from a real life sideshow stunt double. Nevertheless, Chaney is marvelous in
this tale about Alonzo, a criminal who is hiding from the law by strapping his
arms underneath a costume and pretending to be armless. He falls in love with
ring assistant Nanon (a young Joan Crawford). Strongman Malabar also loves
Nanon, but she rejects him because she has a phobia about hands touching
her—therefore she is partial to have a platonic relationship with Alonzo.
However, when Nanon finally decides to break free of her fear and marry
Malabar, Alonzo does something drastic—with tragic results.
For
a 1927 silent film with a new piano score by Philip Carli, The Unknown is
quite engaging, especially due to the terrific performances by the entire cast.
Why it’s called The Unknown is a head-scratcher, but the roughly
hour-long picture is riveting. It comes with a new introduction and commentary
by David J. Skal.
The
Mystic, from
1925, is apparently one of the rarest of Browning’s films. Running at 72
minutes, it’s the story of a sideshow fortune teller “mystic,” Zara (Aileen
Pringle), her father, the impresario Zazarack (Mitchell Lewis), and assistant
Anton (Robert Ober). Con man-criminal Michael Nash (Conway Tearle) recruits the
trio to come to America to swindle wealthy patrons. As noted by Abbott, the
plot is very similar to that of the 1947 film noir, Nightmare Alley…
but the visuals, storytelling, and acting are all surprisingly compelling for
this silent picture. The score, by Dean Hurley, vastly helps with the
movie’s allure. David J. Skal also provides an introduction to the film.
Criterion’s
packaging is superb, and the enclosed booklet comes with an essay by film
critic Farran Smith Nehme.
Tod
Browning’s Sideshow Shockers is highly recommended for fans of the
director, Freaks, silent movies, Lon Chaney, and the unique
sensibilities of pre-code Hollywood. Gooba gobba!
Here's a funky 1965 version of Dimitri Tiomkin's theme from the 1961 WWII classic "The Guns of Navarone", recorded as a dance tune by the Jamaican band The Skatalites!
Frederick
Knott's suspense play "Wait Until Dark" premiered on Broadway on Feb. 2,
1966. Lee Remick played Susy Hendrix, a
young blind woman who becomes the target of a manipulative scheme orchestrated
by a sinisterly glib psychopath, Harry Roat Jr. from Scarsdale. Robert Duvall, in his Broadway debut, had the
pivotal supporting role of Roat. A movie
version opened on Oct. 26, 1967, starring Audrey Hepburn (in an Oscar-nominated
performance) as Susy and Alan Arkin as
Roat, produced by Mel Ferrer (Hepburn's husband at the time), directed by
Terence Young, and scored by Henry Mancini. A predecessor of today's popular, trickily plotted suspense movies like
"Gone Gir" (2014) and "The Girl on the Train" (2016), the film was a
commercial and critical success, ranking number sixteen in box-office returns
for the year. Movies
adapted from plays often feel stage-bound, but "Wait Until Dark"
avoids those constraints, thanks in no small part to Young's fine
pacing, sharp eye for detail, and sure grasp of character.
Bosley
Crowther's October 27, 1967, film review in the New York Times noted that the
Radio City Music Hall screening of "Wait Until Dark" included a stage show with
a ballet troupe, performing dogs, and the Rockettes. Fifty years later, going out to a movie,
you're lucky to get a good seat and decently lit projection for the price of
admission. Any live entertainment comes
courtesy of the patrons behind you who can't put away their smartphones for two
hours.
Knott's play was confined to one interior set, Susy's cramped Greenwich Village
apartment, which makes it a perennial favorite for little-theater and
high-school drama productions on limited budgets. The movie adds a new opening scene in which
Sus's husband Sam (Efrem Zimbalist Jr.), a freelance photographer, meets an
attractive young woman, Lisa, as they board a flight from Montreal. When they land at JFK, Lisa hands Sam a
child's doll and asks him to hold on to it for her temporarily. She says it's a present for the child of a
friend, she just learned that the friend and the little girl will be meeting
her at the airport, and she doesn't want to spoil the surprise; she'll call and
come by for it later. Unknown to the
obliging Sam, it's a phony story: Lisa is a drug mule, and narcotics are hidden
inside the doll.
Lisa
had planned to double-cross her accomplice Roat and split the money from
the
drug shipment with Mike (Richard Crenna) and Carlino (Jack Weston), her
partners in past criminal schemes. Roat
murders Lisa and enlists Mike and Carlino to help him find the doll in
Susy and
Sam's apartment. He lures Sam away with
a call promising a big photo assignment. In his absence, Mike poses as
an old Army friend of Sam's, and Carlino
impersonates a detective investigating Lisa's murder. In a bad guy/good
guy ploy, the phony Detective Sgt. Carlino insinuates that he suspects
Sam of Lisa's murder. Mike intervenes, offering his support to Susy
to gain her trust. To further disorient
Susy, Roat poses as two men who appear to lend credence to the con.Harry
Roat Sr., an an aggressive old man,
barges into the apartment, noisily claiming to be in search of evidence
that
Lisa, his daughter-in-law, carried on a clandestine affair with Sam.
Later, mild-mannered Harry Roat Jr. knocks
on the door and apologizes for his father's outburst. It's a nice
gimmick for Alan Arkin, who gets
to impersonate three characters with different costumes and
personalities. For audiences who watched the Broadway
production, it might also have provided an effective "Aha" moment when
they
realized that there was only one Roat, not three. But it's no surprise
for the movie audience,
since close-up camera angles make it clear immediately that the other
two are
also Arkin in heavy make-up.
The
new Blu-ray release of "Wait Until Dark" from the Warner Archive Collection
presents the movie in a 1080p print for high-def TV. It's a definite improvement in richness from
previous TV and home-video prints. The
tailor-made audience is likely to be those older viewers who saw the film on
the big screen in 1967, who may wonder if the movie's "gotcha"climax still
holds up. Suffice to say without
spoiling the scene for new viewers by going into details, it does. The film's stage origins are obvious in the dialogue-driven
plot set-up and in the constrained setting of one cramped apartment. The measured exposition may be a hurdle for
younger viewers used to a faster pace and visual shorthand, but the
concentration of character interplay in a closed space isn't necessarily a
problem, even for Millennials who have been conditioned to expect ADHD editing
and splashy FX in movies. It imposes a
sense of claustrophobia that subtly forces the audience to share Susy's
mounting fear of being hemmed in and trapped.
In "Take a Look in the Dark", an eight-minute special feature ported over to the
Blu-ray from a 2003 Warner Home Video DVD release, Alan Arkin notes that the
psychotic Roat, with his granny-frame sunglasses and urban-hipster patter, was
a break from the usual sneering, buttoned-down movie and TV villains of the
time. "By and large, the public had not
been exposed to that kind of person", he recalls. "But they began to have people like that live
next to them, or see them in the newspapers or on TV." Ironically, if Roat was unsettling to 1967
audiences, he and his flick knife may seem insufficiently scary for younger
viewers today, in the endless wake of movies and TV shows about flamboyantly
demented murderers since "The Silence of the Lambs" (1990) -- not to mention
the perpetrators of real-life mass murders that, numbingly, we seem to see
every night on CNN, network, and local news.
In
the special feature, Arkin and Ferrer also express fond appreciation of
Hepburn, who wanted to star in "Wait Until Dark" when she realized
that she was getting too old to continue playing demure ingenues, Ferrer
says. Once Susy starts to figure out the con in the last half-hour of
the movie and, isolated from help, summons the inner resources to fight
back, she begins to resemble today's omnipresent model of screen
feminism, the smart, ass-kicking action hero. Two supporting actresses
are unfamiliar by name and face: Samantha Jones as Lisa and Julie Harrod
as Susy's 14-year-old neighbor Gloria. Jones has a chilling scene in
which Lisa's corpse hangs in a makeshift body bag in Susy's closet, and
Susy, unaware, almost bumps into it. Both actresses are so good that
viewers will wonder why they didn't have more prominent careers. (I
don't know either.) One bit of casting may be distracting to viewers in
2017 in a way that it wasn't to audiences in 1967: as Carlino, the fine
character actor Jack Weston is almost a dead ringer for New Jersey Gov.
and failed 2016 Republican Presidential hopeful Chris Christie. (He's
now running again- Ed.)
Besides "Take a Look in the Dark", the Warner Archive Collection Blu-ray includes two trailers also repeated from the 2003 DVD.One,
titled the "warning trailer" ominously cautions that "during the last
eight minutes of this picture, the theater will be darkened to the legal
limit to heighten the terror of the breath-taking climax."As
a gimmick for luring curious masochists into the movie theater, it
doesn't quite rise to the truly inspired heights of William Castle's
"Emergo", "Percepto", or "Punishment Poll", but it's still a charming
bit of vintage Hollywood hucksterism.
Imprint, the Australian video label, is releasing a boxed set dedicated to the film of Marlon Brando. The discs are region-free. The edition is available for pre-order.
One of the greatest actors of all time, Marlon Brando,
brings six powerful performances to this Limited Edition boxset. Sayonara
(1957) The Fugitive Kind (1960) One-Eyed Jacks (1961) The Ugly American (1963)
Bedtime Story (1964) A Countess From Hong Kong (1967) Limited Edition 6-Disc
Hardbox. 1500 copies only. Cinema Retro's Lee Pfeiffer and contributing writers Paul Scrabo and Tony Latino provide commentary tracks for "A Countess from Hong Kong" and "Bedtime Story".
Click here to pre-order. (Prices are in Australian dollars.)
Released
on June 29, 1966, “Nevada Smith” was well-received by audiences who still
flocked to A-list Westerns in those days, earning $14 million in ticket
sales—about $132 million in today’s value.Produced by Joseph E. Levine and directed by Henry Hathaway, it starred
Steve McQueen in the title role, as a young half-Indian man, birth name Max
Sand, who determines to track down the three outlaws who murdered his
parents.The movie was a spinoff from a
previous Levine release, “The Carpetbaggers,” a sensational hit in 1964 based
on a Harold Robbins novel.There, in his
final role, Alan Ladd played the older Nevada Smith, a reformed gunfighter
turned B-movie cowboy actor in the 1930s.Thus the 1966 release was a prequel, as we’d now call it, based on a
lengthy section from Robbins’ novel.The
reviews for the 1966 production were mostly positive, except for two opinions
that observers continue to raise in on-line and print discussions about the
film.At 35, they argue, McQueen was too
old and seasoned to play a kid supposedly in his late teens.And with blond hair and blue eyes, nobody
would mistake him for anyone with Native American genetics.Does either point of view stand up to
examination?We McQueen fans would say,
not really.Movies are all about
illusion anyway, in case anyone forgets all those John Hughes films of the ‘80s
starring actors in their twenties as high school kids.At this late date with McQueen’s iconic
status firmly established, it’s impossible to imagine anyone else playing the
part.(Although someone else tried, not
counting Alan Ladd as the older, more sedate Nevada in “The
Carpetbaggers.”Cliff Potts essayed the
role in a 1975 TV production also titled “Nevada Smith,” designed as a direct
sequel to Hathaway’s picture.Filmed as
a hopeful pilot for a TV series, it’s pretty much forgotten now.Cliff Potts was a good actor, usually cast as
charming but devious characters, but he was no Steve McQueen.)
In
Hathaway’s movie, three drifters, Fitch, Bowdre, and Coe, ride up to young Max
Sand and claim to be friends of his father’s.The actors in the roles were Karl Malden, Arthur Kennedy, and Martin Landau.Try to find a trio of that caliber in any
2023 release.Helpfully, Max tells the
strangers to find the homestead, immediately getting a bad feeling when they
speed off, yelling and firing their pistols.The three drifters know the elder Sand all right, but they’ve really
come to demand the gold they believe he’s found in a nearby mine.When he says the mine is worthless, and all
it ever yielded was a $38 nugget, the intruders don’t believe him and work
themselves into a rage.Coe draws a
knife, cold-bloodedly cuts Sand’s Kiowa wife, and threatens to skin her alive
if the miner doesn’t tell them where he’s supposedly hidden his riches.By the time Max reaches the cabin, he finds
his parents’ mangled corpses, and the killers are long gone.
Max
sets out to avenge the murders, but inexperienced and naive, he isn’t cut out
for the job—at first.“If you want to
find those men, you’ll have to look in every saloon, hog farm, and whorehouse
you come to,” warns a chance acquaintance, Jonas Cord (Brian Keith), a friendly
traveling gunsmith.“You’ll have to
become what they are, and wallow in the same garbage they do.”Realizing he can’t persuade Max to call it
quits, Jonas teaches him the essential skills he’ll need to survive: draw fast
and shoot straight, learn to play poker, do everything you can not to give
yourself away, and don’t trust anybody, “not even your friends.”Working his way up through Coe and Bowdre,
he finally locates Fitch.Calling
himself “Nevada Smith,” he joins the outlaw’s new gang in a plan to rob a gold
shipment, bringing the story, neatly, full circle.Fitch knows Max Sand is after him, but he
doesn’t remember what Max looks like; regardless, he grows suspicious and
paranoid about Nevada Smith as the day of the robbery approaches.
Filmed
at locations in California and Louisiana (where Max robs a bank to get himself
sentenced to a prison farm, next to Bowdre), “Nevada Smith” impressed audiences
in 1966 with McQueen’s athletic performance againstscenic outdoor backdrops, beautifully
composed by Hathaway and his cinematographer, Lucian Ballard.This may not seem to be a remarkable
achievement until you revisit the old TV Westerns of the ‘60s, which still run
every day on streaming platforms like GritTV and Cinevault Westerns, and
remember their tired stock-in-trade of aging stars, repetitive storylines,
meager action, and generic backlot sets standing in for Dodge City, the
Ponderosa, and the Big Valley.A new
Blu-ray edition of “Nevada Smith” from Kino Lorber, in a 4K scan of the
original camera negative, reproduces the vistas in stunning detail and
richness, a long overdue boost for viewers who may have seen the movie only in
edited, pan-and-scan TV prints.C.
Courtney Joyner, Mark Jordan Legan, and Henry Parke offer a fine ensemble audio
commentary, pointing out—among other elements—the legion of fine character
actors in the supporting cast.Normally,
I pride myself on that sort of Hollywood trivia, but Joyner, Legan, and Parke
put me in my place.They pointed out
some faces I would have missed otherwise.
Something
happened to me while watching John Cassavetes’s film Gloria that, to my
knowledge, has never, ever happened before and probably will never, ever happen
again. Towards the end of the film, the titular heroine exits a cab and asks
the cabbie for the time, and she replies, “It’s 9:20.” Unbelievably, this was
the exact time of day that it was on my clock as I watched the film in the
evening. In films, people give the time to others when asked (Charles Martin
Smith is told that it’s “a quarter to twelve” when attempting to purchase
alcohol in George Lucas’s 1973 film American Graffiti), but the
phenomenon of the onscreen reel time being in synch with the offscreen real
time is something that I have not experienced before, and it got me to thinking
about how certain things happen by mere happenstance.
The
cinema of John Cassavetes is an acquired taste as he was a maverick who made many
films on his own terms. If the general audience loved his work, it would
infuriate him and he would recut the film, as was the case with 1970’s Husbands,
a film that was released, critically acclaimed, pulled out of release and
re-cut into a completely different film, culled from roughly 240 hours of raw
footage. Co-star Ben Gazzara stated that his favorite version of the film ran
four-and-a-half hours. The director often employed members of a small but loyal
acting troupe headed by his wife, Gena Rowlands, who portrays the titular
heroine in this film, shot between July and September 1979 and released in New
York on Wednesday, October 1, 1980. She received her second Oscar nomination
for her performance here, the first being for A Woman Under the Influence
in 1974, also under the direction her husband.
Gloria is a film mired in Manhattan, Harlem
and the Bronx in New York. The film opens with nighttime establishing shots of
the New York skyline to the music of Bill Conti best known for the theme to Rocky
(1976). The Statue of Liberty and several bridges are luminescent and invoke Richard
Donner’s Superman: The Movie filmed there two years earlier. The
daylight exposes the filthy streets and the people who inhabit them. A six-year-old
Puerto Rican boy, Phil Dawn (John Adames), narrowly escapes being killed by the
Mafia following his mob accountant father’s (Buck Henry of all people) involvement
with them turned sour. Phil is saddled with a copy of the Bible, which in
reality is incriminating evidence that the Mafia wants back in their hands. His
parents and siblings all become collateral damage as he and the family friend,
Gloria, bolt and attempt to get away. Gloria is part of the Mafia. She
possesses street smarts and packs heat, unflinchingly firing upon her enemies
in broad daylight, though no cops appear to be anywhere in sight. Like the
interior of Marcellus Wallace’s suitcase in Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction
(1994), this Bible proves to be a MacGuffin to keep Gloria and Phil on the run.
Initially,
Gloria and Phil cannot stand one another, and the former appears to be
reluctant to be saddled with the latter despite her promise to Phil’s parents
to take care of him. Eventually, they grow on one another and, dare I say it,
even develop a mutual affection. John Adames proves himself to be a capable
actor though, to my knowledge, this is his sole screen credit. The film,
despite reportedly being disparaged by its director (who probably would have
been happy to completely recut it), is a showcase for its leading actress, who
is always fascinating to watch.
Gloria was released on Blu-ray in August 2018 by
Twilight Time and that pressing contained an isolated musical score. There is a
new pressing of the film, this time by Kino Lorber, and the results are
unspectacular. This is not a carp about Kino,since they always do a bang-up job
on their Blu-ray releases. The
film image is dark at times, especially in the beginning scenes in the
apartment building (look fast for Tom Noonan as a Mafia soldier), and it looks
as though it was transferred from a theatrical print, minus the reel-change cue
marks. I am only assuming this to be the case (though I am probably incorrect),
or perhaps this was how it was either photographed or developed as the liner
notes are absent of the usual declaration boasting a high-definition transfer
from the film’s original camera negative.
The only extras to speak of on this pressing
are theatrical trailers for Gloria, Sidney Lumet’s Gloria remake
from 1999, Gorky Park (1983), 52 Pick-Up (1986), Code of
Silence (1985), Number One with a Bullet (1987), and Lonely are
the Brave (1962).
Don Knotts
came to fame with his trademark comedy style of portraying a meek, excessively
nervous character. He was Woody Allen before Woody Allen was Woody Allen.
Knotts honed his skills on Steve Allen's show in the 1950s, with his "man
on the street" Nervous Nellie routine sending audiences into fits of
laughter. He co-starred with fellow up-and-comer Andy Griffith in the hit
Broadway production of "No Time for Sergeants" and the subsequent
film version. When Griffith landed his own TV series in 1960 in which he played
the sheriff of fictional small town Mayberry, Knotts imposed upon him to write
a small, occasional part he could play as Barney Fife, Griffith's inept but
loyal sheriff. Griffith complied and the role made Knotts an icon of American
comedy, allowing him to win an astonishing five Emmys for playing the same
character. Five years into the series, Knotts was offered a multi-feature deal
by Lew Wasserman, the reigning mogul of Universal Pictures. Knotts took the
bait and enjoyed creative control over the films to a certain degree. He could
pretty much do what he wanted as long has he played the same nervous schlep audiences wanted to
see. The films had to be low-budget, shot quickly and enjoy modest profits from
rural audiences where Knotts' popularity skewed the highest. His first feature
film was The Ghost and Mr.
Chicken, released in 1966 and written by the same writing team from
the "The Andy Griffith Show". (Griffith actually co-wrote the script
but declined taking a writing credit.) The film astonished the industry,
rolling up big grosses in small markets where it proved to have remarkable
staying power. Similarly, his next film, The
Reluctant Astronaut also proved to be a big hit, as was his
1969 western spoof The
Shakiest Gun in the West. Within a few years, however,
changing audience tastes had rendered Knotts' brand of innocent, gentle humor
somewhat moot. By the late 1960s audiences were getting their laughs from the
new film freedoms. It was hard to find the antics of a middle-aged virgin much
fun when you could see Bob and Carol and Ted and Alice cavorting in the same
bed. Still, Knotts soldiered on, providing fare for the drive-in markets that
still wanted his films. In 1969 he made The
Love God?, a very funny and underrated film that tried to be more
contemporary by casting Knotts as an innocent ninny who is manipulated into
fronting what he thinks is a magazine for bird watchers but, in reality, is a
cover for a pornography empire. Knotts' traditional audience balked at the
relatively tame sex jokes and for his final film for Universal, How to Frame a Figg, he
reverted back to his old formula.
Released in
1971, Figg casts
Don Knotts as the titular character, Hollis Figg, a nondescript wimp who toils
as an overlooked accountant in a basement of city hall. The film is set in a
Mayberry-like small town environment but any other similarity ends there. In
Mayberry, only the visiting city slickers were ever corrupt. The citizenry may
have been comprised of goofballs and eccentrics, but they were all scrupulously
honest. In Figg's world, however, the top government officials are all con-men
and crooks. They are ruled by the town's beloved paternal father figure, Old
Charley Spaulding (Parker Fennelly), a decrepit character who hands out pennies
to everyone he encounters, with the heart-warming greeting "A shiny penny
for your future!" In fact, Old Charley has plenty of those pennies
stashed away. He and his hand-picked fellow crooks, including the mayor and
police chief, have been systemically ripping off the state by grossly inflating
the costs of local building projects and secretly pocketing the overages.
Concerned that the accountants might get wind of their activities, they
summarily fire them all except for Figg, who is deemed to be too naive to ever
catch on. They justify the firings by saying it's fiscally prudent and replace
the accountants with a gigantic computer that is supposed to be even more
efficient. Through a quirk of fate, Figg and his equally naive friend, Prentiss
(Frank Welker), the janitor for city hall, discover exactly what is going on.
Figg dutifully reports his findings to the mayor (Edward Andrews), who
convinces him to keep it secret while he launches his own investigation. Old
Charley, the mayor and their cohorts decide to make Figg the fall guy for the
corrupt practices. They give him a big promotion, a new red convertible and
even hire a private secretary for him. She's Glorianna (Yvonne Craig), a leggy
femme fatale who wears mini skirts and oozes sex. When her attempts to seduce
Figg leave him paralyzed with fear because of his allegiance to his new
girlfriend, the equally virginal waitress Ema Letha (Elaine Joyce), Glorianna
gets Figg drunk, takes some embarrassing photos of him and then proceeds to have
him sign a stream of incriminating documents that he has not bothered to read.
Before long, Figg is blamed for all the missing funds and faces a jail
sentence- unless he and the dim-witted Prentiss can figure out how to use the
computer to thwart the real crooks.
