Kino Lorber has released a DVD of the acclaimed 2014 German documentary "From Caligari to Hitler: German Cinema in the Age of the Masses", based on the book by Siegfried Kracauer and directed and written by Rudiger Suchsland. The film traces cinematic achievements during Germany's brief fling with democracy between the two world wars. In the aftermath of the nation's disastrous defeat in WWI, the Weimar Republic was established, bringing democratic reforms to the country. It was a tumultuous period. Germany was virtually bankrupt after the war and the Allies, particularly France and England, soaked the nation with onerous damages that made it seem almost impossible for the country to ever recover. A dual-class system arose with those who were economically well-off and those who were the working class tradesmen and women who would toil for long hours often under inhumane conditions just to survive day-to-day. It was during this troubled era that German cinema rose to grand heights with a new generation of filmmakers who advanced the medium from being one of mere entertainment to being a reflection of social problems and values. For the first time, the impoverished lower classes were being championed. Ultimately, things began to turn around and a middle class emerged but fate was to intervene. A banking crisis and massive inflation, combined with the shock effects of the 1929 Great Depression, took its toll on the workers. Socialist and communist filmmakers made stirring movies that advocated a rising of the masses in protest, much as Russia had done in 1917. Meanwhile, the rich remained largely unaffected and Berlin became the center of a creative renaissance the likes of which modern Europe had never experienced. The city drew millions of visitors from around the world to revel in the new-found freedoms. Seemingly everyone was partying and there were major achievements in the theater and film. Progressive values were reflected in those films, as Germany was now a society in which females were suddenly liberated to live lifestyles that would have previously been considered Hedonistic. Homosexuality was out of the closet and gays and lesbians could live openly. The new freedoms would not last for long, however. The economic turbulence reflected by "the masses" would cause the population to veer to the hard right and National Socialism. The rise of Hitler would result in the repression of artistic freedoms and being gay meant imprisonment or death. The tumultuous era was chronicled by Christopher Isherwood in his "Berlin Stories", which, in turn, would form the basis of "Cabaret".
Rudiger Suchsland's remarkable documentary (German language, English sub-titles) chronicles the rise and fall of the one brief shining moment in which such talents as Fritz Lang, Billy Wilder, Ernst Lubitsch, F.W. Murnau, Josef von Sternberg, Robert Siodmak and others revolutionized cinema and having it emerge as a major art form. The documentary affords us generous samples of the kinds of eye-popping visuals that are even more impressive today, given how primitive the tools were that these directors had to work with. Movies suddenly dealt with realistic issues, often in surrealistic ways. Some of the movies proved prescient regarding the fate that was in store for Germany. "Metropolis" chronicled the angry rise of oppressed masses in a futuristic society while "M"- ostensibly a crime thriller about the hunt for a serial killer of children- displayed brutish justice meted out by gangs who put the accused on trial in kangaroo courts. Not all cinematic fare was grim during this era, however. Hollywood-style musicals became popular and there emerged a new genre that was distinctly German: the "Mountain Films", natured-based stories that capitalized on the nation's vast beauty and the obsession with physical fitness. With the rise of National Socialism, many of the most talented German filmmakers saw the writing on the wall and emigrated to America, where they had long, fruitful careers. When Hitler assumed power, he engaged in the same tactics dictators and would-be dictators follow today: attacking and later controlling the free press and then turning the media over to propagandists who immediately quashed the great cinematic achievements of the Weimar era. Now films would reflect the state-run point of view and would be used to suppress and oppress society's "undesirables". The documentary only briefly covers the ascendancy of Hitler and his henchmen, instead concentrating on the movies made in the Weimar years. It's a remarkable film that serves not only as warning about the fragility of freedom and democracy, but also as a vehicle to experience these great works of art, most of which are fortunately available on home video.
The Kino Lorber release has an excellent transfer and contains the trailer for the documentary.
The following news items were found in The Hollywood Reporter on January 24, 1968:
Director Peter Yates, assistant director Tim Zinneman, cameraman Bill Fraker and several key crew operators to San Francisco for final pre-production on Warner-Seven Arts' Bullitt
Lee Marvin will star in Monte Walsh, based on the Jack Schafer novel. Marvin will reportedly receive $1 million against 10% of the gross.
Sammy Davis Jr. set to portray a key figure in the Rhythm of Life musical number in Universal's roadshow production of Sweet Charity. Assignment marks the first screen song and dance role Davis has played since he appeared in Porgy and Bess. (Note: this was not true. Davis performed song and dance numbers in the Rat Pack films Oceans Eleven and Robin and the Seven Hoods-Ed.)
David Karp yesterday turned in the first draft screenplay of Viva Che!, 20th -Fox's forthcoming drama based on the life of revolutionist Ernesto (Che) Guevara. (The film was released under the title Che!- Ed.)
MGM has set an April starting date for the King Brothers production of Heaven With a Gun, a big scale western starring Glenn Ford to be shot at the Culver City studio and on location.
MGM's The Dirty Dozen rolls into its seventh consecutive month of performances in Los Angeles this week when it moves to the Tiffany Theatre on Sunset Boulevard.
Director James Goldstone has set May 1 for start of filming on his next Universal feature, Winning starrig Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward. Picture was originally slated to begin production in March, but start date has been pushed back to accomodate Newman, currently editing A Jest of God which he directed for Warner Seven-Arts. (A Jest of God was released under the title Rachel, Rachel- Ed.)
James Caan getting his choice of roles after appearing in Games
John Wayne used to smoke five packs of cigarettes a day before his operation; now he chews tobacco.
Richard Burton and Audrey Hepburn rumored to appear in Song of Norway in 1969. (They didn't- Ed.)
Premature Burial (1962) is the third of Roger Corman’s eight
film cycle of Technicolor extravaganzas loosely based on the writings of the
legendary masters of literary mysteries Edgar Allan Poe and H.P. Lovecraft.Corman had previously successfully partnered
with Samuel J. Arkoff and James Nicholson of American International Pictures, the
trio having mutually enjoyed a tidy profit on their relatively modest
investment on two earlier Poe efforts, Fall
of the House of Usher (1960) and The
Pit and the Pendulum (1961).Corman
and the producers would eventually come to loggerheads regarding a fair and
equitable split of the The Pit and the
Pendulum box-office receipts – a not unforeseeable dispute as Arkoff,
Nicholson and Corman were all notorious for their penny-pinching proclivities.
In Corman’s recollection both Usher
and Pendulum brought in nearly two
million each in rentals on a “negative cost of some $200,000.”Corman was rankled by AIP’s tough contract clauses
so, as a true independent filmmaker, decided to finance his third Poe adaptation
through Pathé Lab who, in Corman’s own words, had “helped back some AIP
productions and did their print work.”
This time around Hollywood’s most industrious maverick would
lose his gambit.Upon learning of
Corman’s brash decision to leave the fold, AIP chose to leverage some economic
muscle.They contacted Pathé and threatened
to pull all of the company’s subsequent lab work from them should the deal with
Corman proceed.Arkoff and Nicholson then
brazenly and effectively bought out Pathé’s interest in Corman’s new project, this
time a liberal retelling of Poe’s short story of 1844, The Premature Burial.
Premature Burial is a visually stunning film and a worthy
successor to Corman’s two earlier efforts.There’s absolutely no reason why it wouldn’t be as all three films share
several key behind-the-camera talents.The
most notable returnee is Director of Photography Floyd Crosby, on hand for his
third atmospheric rendering of a Poe film.This time around he works in perfect tandem with the Goth styling’s of
set designer/art director Daniel Haller.There are also some fresh faces on set as well.Film editor Ronald Sinclair took the cutting
reins from Anthony Carras on Poe film no. 3, with the lush orchestrations of
Ronald Stein replacing the more avant-garde and jazzy styling of Les Baxter.Corman’s assistant director on this new
project was a young and ambitious transplant from the east coast, Francis Ford
The single most crucial element missing from The Premature Burial is, of course, the
most obvious: Vincent Price.Stories
vary on Price’s non-participation in the project.Corman recollects that, upon learning he was
about to go rogue, “AIP, aware of my intentions, locked Vincent into an
exclusive contract.”Other film
historians discount this, noting that Price’s three film contract with AIP had already
ended with The Pit and the Pendulum.Price and his wife took off for Europe in the
spring of 1961 where he was to appear in two Italian peplums – a genre all the
rage in 1961.Though Milland turns in a
worthy, professional performance as the emotionally wrought and self-haunted Guy
Carrell in The Premature Burial, he
wasn’t able to capture the elegant, self-tortured mania that Vincent Price
easily brought to similar roles.When The Premature Burial brought in only
half the rentals following its release in the spring of 1962 – this extreme
financial fall-off despite having enjoyed the same budget as the two earlier
Poe adaptations - AIP wisely chose to bring Price back into the fold.The independent Price was happy to return as
he was offered a long-term, non-exclusive contract by AIP, thereby allowing him
to keep his options open.
Lorber has released Mario Bava’s “Roy Colt and Winchester Jack” (1970) in a
handsome, restored Blu-ray edition as part of its extensive “Mario Bava
Collection.”The disc will please
devotees of the late Italian director, whose wide range of genre work is
evident in this and the fifteen other Blu-rays that Kino Lorber has released in
its series, from the celebrated Gothic trappings of “Black Sunday” (1960) to
the Bond-era burlesque of “Dr. Goldfoot and the Girl Bombs” (1966).Bava is revered by his enthusiasts as one of
the pre-eminent directors of horror and giallo in the 1960s Italian cinema, but
like other workaday filmmakers in the busy European studios of the time, he
made pretty much every kind of picture there was to make, riding successive
surges of popularity for horror, sword-and-toga epics, westerns, thrillers, and
sex comedies. “Roy Colt and Winchester
Jack” was the third of Bava’s three Italian Westerns -- a genre that paid the
bills, but one that Bava wasn’t especially fond of, as Tim Lucas notes in his
audio commentary for the Blu-ray.Of
Bava’s approach to “Roy Colt,” Lucas relates: “On the first day of shooting,
when he learned that no one was particularly enamored of the script, Bava threw
his copy into the nearest mud puddle and said, ‘Screw it, let’s have fun
the film, Roy (Brett Halsey) and Jack (Charles Southwood) are leaders of an
outlaw gang.The two partners split up
when Roy decides to try his fortune on the right side of the law.Going straight, he pins on a sheriff’s badge
and agrees to retrieve a cache of buried gold for Samuel (Giorgio Gargiullo), a
devious banker.In the meantime, Jack
continues to rob stages and saves a pretty Indian woman, Manila (Marilu Tolo),
from bounty hunters after she kills her abusive husband.Manila encourages Jack’s romantic advances
but shrewdly charges for her favors.Another outlaw, the Reverend (Teodoro Corra), follows the trail of
Samuel’s gold, and the storyline eventually settles into a familiar Spaghetti
Western pattern.The three rivals --
Roy, Jack, and the Reverend, with Manila as a fourth wild card -- alternately
help and double-cross each other to reach the promised riches first.
commentary suggests that “Roy Colt and Winchester Jack” began as a
straightforward action script by Mario di Nardo, and then turned into a comedy
when Bava suggested that he and the actors “have fun instead.”Bava’s decision to send up his material may
have been partially influenced by the success of 1969’s “Butch Cassidy and the
Sundance Kid,” but it also coincided with a fundamental change in the genre
itself.With the success of another 1970
Italian Western, Enzo Barboni’s “Trinity Is My Name,” the genre began to skew
from violent, sometimes operatic stories of revenge and betrayal to lowbrow
farces that were geared (it’s said) to the tastes of working-class audiences in
the poorer sections of Italian cities and towns.The staple elements of these Spaghetti
lampoons included slapstick brawls, rather cruel visual jokes ridiculing
physical and mental infirmities, childish sexual innuendo, and infantile
delight in gastric embarrassments.Dubbed prints of Barboni’s movie, its sequel, “Trinity Is Still My
Name,” and other comedy Spaghettis traveled overseas to drive-ins and
small-town theaters in the U.S., arguably preparing the way for Mel Brooks‘
wildly popular, fart-laden Western parody, “Blazing Saddles,” in 1974.“Roy Colt and Winchester Jack” incorporates
the usual characteristics of the comedy Spaghettis, notably in a rudely
gratuitous scene built around a gunslinger’s extreme facial and verbal
tics.More sophisticated audiences are
likely to squirm, but at that, thanks to Bava’s sure visual sense and a capable
cast, his film is easier to bear than most Spaghetti farces.Pictures like “It Can Be Done, Amigo” (1972),
“Life Is Tough, Eh Providence” (1972), “The Crazy Bunch” (1974), and “Shoot
First, Ask Questions Later” (1975) are guaranteed to try the souls of all but
the most dedicated genre fans.
Kino Lorber Blu-ray edition of “Roy Colt and Winchester Jack” features a
superlative 2K restoration from the original 35mm negative.Other extras include the original Italian
voice track with English subtitles, a partial English track, and the
aforementioned commentary by Tim Lucas with a wealth of information about the
film, Bava, and Italian cinema in general.
Cinema Retro has received the following press release:
This year is a special anniversary for fans of classic film
& British comedy as it’s 60 years since the first classic Carry On
production, “Carry On Sergeant”, was released in 1958.
The Carry On films have their own distinct style that is
totally unique, beloved by many, and an important part of Britain’s comedy, film,
and cultural heritage, and 2018 marks 60 years since the first Carry On film.
"Carry On Sergeant" laid the groundwork for the
most prolific British film series (yes, more than James Bond). Without this
successful first film, there simply wouldn’t have been all the films that
followed in its path.
British film company Anglo Amalgamated distributed the first
12 Carry On films starting with "Carry On Sergeant" in 1958 and
ending with the much-loved Hammer Horror parody "Carry On Screaming"
To celebrate the British comedies, Art & Hue has created
a stylish pop art collection featuring the classic films and their stars.
Along with the classic film posters, Sid James, Kenneth
Williams, Hattie Jacques, Charles Hawtrey, Joan Sims, and Barbara Windsor (Dame
Babs) have all been transformed into pop art icons by Art & Hue, in a
choice of three sizes and 16 colours.
Blue Underground’s double-feature Blu Ray issue of Code 7… Victim 5 and Mozambique is a generous release considering
the company chose to simultaneously issue both films as standalone DVDs.Both films are among the earliest big screen
efforts of notorious exploitation producer Harry Alan Towers.Both were adapted from Tower’s own
semi-original scenarios (under his usual pseudonym of “Peter Welbeck”) and both
were penned by the Australian screenwriter Peter Yeldham with British director Robert
Lynn at the helm.
Both men had been working in television and, like Towers,
were now gingerly testing the waters of the international movie business.The films, modest thrillers financed by
Tower’s UK Company “Towers of London,” nonetheless share a continental roster
of technicians and actors.The films are
serviceably entertaining as thrillers, but are most ambitious in conveying a
jet-setting ‘60s ambiance.The fact that
Towers brought his international crew to southern Africa to film is the most
notable feature of both efforts.
“Africa is changing,” the ruthless drug smuggler Da Silva
sighs to a shady Arabian client in Mozambique
(1964).“The best days are
gone.”Indeed they were… or soon would
be.Just as location shooting was being
completed on this fictional thriller set in the tiny, East African province of
Mozambique, a coalition of real-life indigenous anti-colonialists and communist
guerilla fighters were combining to upset centuries-long Portuguese rule.As a decade-long bloody civil war would soon
follow in the wake of the filming of this Technicolor/Technoscope drama, it’s unlikely
that any subsequent team of filmmakers from British or continental Europe would
be warmly welcomed in the years going forward.
The South African locations of this disc’s companion film
Code 7… Victim 5 are cosmopolitan and
glittering in presentation; conversely the photography of the plaintive Mozambique
countryside captures a far more sober and undeveloped region.Aside from breathless images capturing
beautiful oceanside views - sightlines unblemished by tourist constructions -
the countryside of Mozambique circa
1963 is revealed as poor and agricultural.
The two films offered on this disc do share similarities
aside from their exotic African settings.Not the least of these is that both films open with very public
assassinations of characters mostly tangential to the film’s plotlines.Code 7
opens with the daylight murder – by a team of menacing clown-faced assassins –
during Capetown’s New Year’s Eve Carnival parade.Mozambique
opens similarly with a mysterious assassination atop the winding, ancient stone
stairwells of old Lisbon.
American actor Steve Cochran plays Brad Webster, a down-on-his-luck Cessna
pilot.We first encounter Webster as he
trawls about Lisbon’s bleak waterfront in search of employment.His blacklisting as a pilot-for-hire is
understandable as his previous assignment didn’t go all that well.Both of his passengers were killed in a crash
of his piloted small craft, leaving Webster the lone survivor.
For better or worse, his fortunes change following a
desperate, alcohol fueled fight in a waterfront saloon.Faced with a probable sixty day jail sentence
for vagrancy and public fisticuffs, Lisbon authorities mysteriously offer Webster
an alternative.A certain Colonel Valdez
residing in Mozambique is looking to hire a small-craft pilot on the down
low.The police offer Webster one-way airfare
from Lisbon to their colonial territory should he choose to accept the deal.
He does.Once aboard
his Lufthansa flight to Mozambique,
the sweating heavily, PTSD-afflicted Webster meets the comely blond Christina
(Vivi Bach).Christina too,
coincidentally, was also sent a one-way ticket at the behest of the mysterious
Colonel Valdez.So begins an improbable
romance between this middle-aged and craggy American and a beautiful young
woman in her twenties.In truth, actor
Cochran is perhaps a bit too long-in-the-tooth to pull off this charade as a
dashing hero and paramour.
It has been reported that Steven Spielberg will remake the classic Oscar winning 1961 film adaptation of the Broadway smash "West Side Story". Not many facts are known except that Spielberg is currently working with a casting director to find young talent for the starring roles. The original version won ten Oscars including Best Picture and Best Director (Robert Wise). For more click here.
In the opening scene of Republic Pictures “The Man Who
Died Twice,” (1950) a car drives along a mountain road and two cops in a patrol
car remark that it’s nightclub owner T. J. Brennon (Don Megowan) passing by.
Next thing you know the car goes off a cliff and explodes in flames. Then a
woman (Vera Ralston) gets out of a cab in front of her apartment building and
looks up at the balcony where two men are fighting. She shrieks in horror as
one of the men comes plummeting down and lands on the sidewalk at her feet. Splat!
She watches as the other man climbs up a fire escape ladder to the roof. But
not before a third man appears on the balcony and the guy on the fire escape
shoots him. Vera Ralston faints from all the excitement and falls on the
pavement next to the fallen corpse.
The cops show up almost immediately, revealing that the
two dead men are members of the narcotics squad and the unconscious woman (whom
they just leave lying there on the concrete until the ambulance arrives) is
none other than Lynn Brennon, wife, now widow, of T. J. Brennon, the guy who
went over the cliff. All this in just the first few minutes of this low-budget
70-minute crime movie directed at a frantic pace by Joe Kane, veteran of
countless Roy Rogers and Gene Autry movies., and penned by Richard C. Sarafian,
who would later be best known as the director of “Vanishing Point” (1971), the
ultimate car-chase movie.
“The Man Who Died Twice” is a pulpy story that borrows a
lot from other crime and gangster movies of that era. It’s a coincidence, I
suppose, that this film was released the same week as Don Siegel’s “The
Lineup,” but the similarities in the two films are pretty striking. The
McGuffin (Hitchcock’s term for the thing everybody’s after) in both films is a missing
stash of heroin. In both films, dangerous drug dealers want their drugs back
and will stop at nothing to get them. In both films two of the more interesting
characters are a couple of gunsels who arrive from out of town to get the goods
back for their employers and in both films the heroin is stuffed inside a doll.
It makes you wonder if Serafian and Stirling Silliphant, who wrote “The Lineup,”
had some kind of competition going to see who could turn out the better script
using the same story elements. Silliphant wins that one hands down.
The gunsels In “The Lineup,” are played by Eli Wallach
and Robert Keith. Gerald Milton and Richard Karlan handle the roles of Hart and
Santoni in “The Man Who Died Twice.” While not quite on a level with Wallach
and Keith, they do a good job as the two killers. Milton is particularly nasty in
a casual kind of way in a scene in their hotel room when he hears a cat meowing
outside the door. He goes out in the hall, picks it up and puts out on the
window sill and then shuts the window. Karlan yells, “Hey, what’s the matter
with you. It’s three stories down.” Milton keeps calling his wife back home only to be disturbed by the fact
that she’s never there when he calls. He tells Karlan that one time a bartender
pal gave him the number of a hot babe, if he ever wanted a good time. Half-drunk
he put the number in his pocket and didn’t look at it until the next day and
found it was his home phone number!
Vera Ralston as Lynn Brennon was only 35 at the time this
film was made but she looks tired and bored. She was an ice skating star back
in her native Czechoslovakia when Republic Studios chief Herbert J. Yates
brought her to the U.S. and tried to make her a star. She made over 20 features
for Republic but despite Yates’s efforts audiences did not really accept her, and
she quit acting after “The Man Who Died Twice.”
The leading man in this B-movie extravaganza is Rod
Cameron, who has about as much charisma as a side of beef. Better known for his
westerns, he plays Bill Brennon, T.J.’s brother, who had sent him a telegram
asking for help, which was unusual because he and Bill hadn’t spoken in 15
years. But you know how it is, when your brother sends you a wire saying he’s
in trouble, you gotta do something about it. Right?
McQueen and the Mustang graced the cover of Cinema Retro's first issue.
For the iconic car chase in the 1968 classic "Bullitt", two Mustangs were used. The first was known as "The Hero Car" because it was the one driven by Steve McQueen in the iconic film. The second car was known as "The Jumper Car" because it was utilized for the amazing stunt scenes. The latter car was located last year in a Mexican junkyard. However, the vehicle driven by McQueen remained elusive until recently when it was revealed that it had been purchased by a New Jersey insurance executive in 1974 for a mere $6,000. McQueen made two attempts to buy it from the owner, Robert Kiernan, but the offers were refused. Kiernan as he drove the Mustang locally until 1980, putting 30,000 miles on the odometer. Kiernan died in 2014 and the car, which had been kept in the family garage, has been restored by the family and is estimated to be worth millions today. For more click here and here.
Kino Lorber has released the 1968 espionage thriller "The High Commissioner" on Blu-ray. The film, which was titled "Nobody Runs Forever" in it's UK release, is significant in that it paired two charismatic leading men- Rod Taylor and Christopher Plummer- in a low-key but well-scripted tale that sustains interest throughout. The film is based on John Cleary's novel and presents some offbeat and refreshing elements for a spy movie made at the height of the James Bond-inspired phenomenon. Most refreshingly, the two protagonists are Australians, a rare instance in which heroes from "Down Under" are showcased in a non-Australian movie of the era. Taylor plays Scobie Malone, a tough-as-nails police officer in the Northern Territory who is content to fulfill his job of keeping order in the Outback and arresting small-time trouble makers. He is reluctantly assigned to travel to London for an unusual mission: to bring back the Australian High Commissioner, Sir James Quentin (Plummer) and have him stand trial on charges that he murdered his first wife many years before. When Scobie arrives in London, he realizes that the timing of his mission could not be more sensitive: Quentin is hosting an important diplomatic conference with African leaders in the hope of finalizing a major treaty that could affect the balance of power in the African continent. The world is watching as Quentin tries to iron out details to make the treaty a reality. When Scobie informs him of his assignment, Quentin seems curiously nonplussed about the nature of the charges against him- but he is quite concerned by the fact that his sudden absence from the conference would almost certainly cause the talks to collapse. He imposes on Scobie to give him a few additional days to sort out the final details on the treaty. Scobie takes an instant liking to Quentin and his adoring wife Sheila (Lilli Palmer), and agrees with the request. Scobie's cover story to Sheila is that he is simply acting as a bodyguard to Quentin, but she seems to suspect his real motive is more nefarious. When an attempt is made on Quentin's life, Scobie is instrumental in thwarting it. The two men ultimately bond as friends and Scobie begins to suspect that Quentin could not have possibly murdered his first wife. Why then is the Australian government convinced he had? More pressing is solving the problem of who is behind the assassination attempt on Quentin and who in his inner circle is a mole. It appears a shadowy organization feels threatened by the chances of the treaty succeeding- and wants to thwart it by killing Quentin.
"The High Commissioner" is a film that plays best if not examined in detail because there are plenty of loosely-developed plot points. It's never quite explained why Scobie was taken all the way from the Outback for this particular assignment. Surely the government could have found one equally capable law enforcement officer who was a bit more accessible. It also becomes clear that the plot to thwart the conference is just the "MacGuffin" in that it's never thoroughly explained who the bad guys are or why they feel threatened by Quentin's peace conference. Nor do we learn precisely what is being negotiated at the conference. What we do have are some intriguing characters including two of the most glamorous actresses of the period: Daliah Lavi, in full dangerous femme fatale mode as a seductive enemy agent and Camilla Sparv as Quentin's loyal secretary who holds a not-so-secret crush on him. While on assignment, Scobie allows himself to be seduced by Lavi (who wouldn't?) but remains chaste with Sparvi's character, so as to not impede his professional standing with the Quentins. The film moves along at a brisk pace under the direction of Ralph Thomas, who had recently helmed two other spy flicks- "Deadlier Than the Male" and "Agent 8 3/4" (aka "Hot Enough for June". ) Thomas showcases Taylor's rugged good looks by giving him Bondian opportunities to wear tuxedos and engage in plenty of mayhem. The film's climax takes place at Wimbledon, where the villains intend to assassinate Quentin by using a gun placed inside a television camera. The murder charges against Quentin come to a head in an emotional discussion Scobie has with Sheila, though her explanation for his innocence seems rather weak. The film builds to a fiery and explosive final scene that is undermined only shoddy special effects.
The best aspect of "The High Commissioner" is that it provides a good role for Rod Taylor, one of the most charismatic leading men of the 1960s. Taylor was usually cast as American or British characters because he had mastered both accents, but here he is allowed to talk like a native Australian, which, in fact, he was. Equally at home in posh cocktail parties or flailing away at the bad guys, Taylor was the epitome of the charming tough guy. Plummer also gets an interesting role though the character is never fully developed and plays second-fiddle to Taylor's. Nevertheless, he embellishes the much-besieged Quentin with quiet dignity even when narrowly dodging bombs and bullets. Lilli Palmer is especially poignant as Quentin's ever-faithful but long-suffering wife who is harboring a terrible secret that figures in the explosive climax. There is also an impressive supporting cast that includes Clive Revill as a butler whose allegiance may be in question, Calvin Lockhart as a handsome international man of mystery and an unrecognizable, black-haired Derren Nesbitt as a villain. The lush locations begin in Australia before moving to London, where director Thomas capitalizes on them. Interiors were shot at Pinewood Studios.
The Kino Lorber Blu-ray is up to the company's usual fine standards and includes the original trailer. Recommended.
Vintage trade photo of Paul Newman receiving the World Film Favorite award from the Hollywood Foreign Press, which is today known as the association that gives out the Golden Globe awards. Newman accepted the honor in March, 1964. In other movie news that week, it was reported that Becket was doing standing room only business in its engagement at the Loews State Theatre in New York and Patricia Neal and Paula Prentiss were signed as female leads for Otto Preminger's In Harm's Way. (If you enjoy vintage movie news such as this, don't miss our That Was the Week That Was column in every issue of Cinema Retro).
Michael Coate of The Digital Bits web site once again compiles the thoughts, memories and analysis of several James Bond scholars, including Cinema Retro's own Lee Pfeiffer, this time to analyze the controversial legacy of the 1967 all-star spoof version of "Casino Royale". Love it or loathe it, the movie occupies a unique place in the 007 film canon. Click here to read.
“When the legend becomes fact, print the legend,” is an
often-quoted line from John Ford’s “The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance.” And if director
Walter Hill had stuck to that idea, his “Wild Bill” (1995) would be a great
movie, instead of a near miss. Unfortunately, he mixed legend with pure hogwash
and the result is a confusing hodgepodge of scenes connected only by the fact
that James Butler Hickok (Jeff Bridges) hated it when somebody messed with his
You know a director intends to make a “serious” western
when he starts the film out by showing the central character’s funeral. “Wild
Bill” begins not only with a funeral, but a funeral shot in high-contrast,
grainy black and white. In fact the film keeps switching from color to black
and white for numerous flash back scenes, depicting “events” from Bill’s early
life, some of which are complete fiction.
Attending the funeral are his on-again-off-again
sweetheart Calamity Jane (Ellen Barkin) and Charlie Prince (John Hurt), an
Englishman who has drifted out West for the excitement. Prince narrates the
story. The first act of “Wild Bill” is the most interesting section of the
film—a series of famous episodes from Hickok’s life shown very briefly in quick
tableau. We see Bill shoot it out with half a dozen buffalo hunters intent on
robbing him of his hides. The fight is triggered when he steps up to the bar
and one of them lifts the hat off his head. He turns and smashes him with the
back of his hand and next thing you know, guns are blazing. When it’s over and
the buffalo hunters are all dead Bill goes back to the bar and says: “They need
to understand. You never touch a man’s hat.”
Another scene depicts the famous incident in Abilene, Kansas
when Hickok as sheriff tried to stop roundup revelers from tearing up the town
and accidentally killed his own deputy. (For a nice treatment of that true
incident check out the half-hour “Gunsmoke” episode called “The Roundup,” with
Matt Dillon killing an old friend who had substituted for an ailing Chester). Another
scene shows Hickok giving an embarrassing performance in Buffalo Bill Cody’s
(Keith Carradine) Wild West show.
Problems with the story really start soon after Hickok
arrives in Deadwood Gulch, Dakota Territory, where, as we all know, it’s just a
matter of time before he stares down at those aces and eights (the Dead Man’s Hand),
and gets shot in the back of the head by Jack McCall. In Deadwood he’s reunited
with his old flame Calamity, Charlie Prince and an old traveling companion named
California Joe (James Gammon). The reunion with Calamity is a sad one, however.
Bill no longer has any interest in rekindling the flame. In another flashback
we learn he is going blind from glaucoma that was probably caused by syphilis. Their
relationship is a portrait of sadness, anger and frustration.
Hill’s screenplay is based on Pete Dexter’s “Deadwood”
(the basis of the HBO series) and “Fathers and Sons,” a play by Thomas Babe. Where
it goes wrong is in the fabrication that Jack McCall (David Arquette) was the
son of a woman named Susannah Moore (Diane Ladd), whom Hickok had loved and abandoned.
McCall wants to kill Hickok out of revenge for his cold-hearted treatment of
his mother. There are more flashback scenes showing what happened between Bill
and Susannah, but none of it ever happened in real life. It makes for
interesting, if sentimental, drama but it’s unnecessary and only muddles the
story. The fact is that McCall was just a tinhorn drunk who had lost all his money
to Wild Bill in a poker game and was humiliated when Bill took pity on him and
gave him some money to get something to eat. The next day he came back in the
saloon in a drunken rage, called him a name and shot him from behind. McCall,
in one of two trials that were held on the case tried to argue that Wild Bill
had killed his younger brother, but the truth of that allegation was never
With the untimely death of Peter Sellers in 1980, his long-time collaborator, writer/director Blake Edwards decided to create a "tribute" to his iconic star of their "Pink Panther" series by filming not just one, but two sequels simultaneously. The decision was not without controversy as virtually everyone in the film industry was aware of the fact that the two men had long ago come to loathe each other but continued to work together because of the success of the "Panther" franchise. The first sequel, "Trail of the Pink Panther" was a cut-and-paste job incorporating clips from Sellers' original films as Inspector Jacques Clouseau along with unseen outtakes that were cobbled together to form a plot in which Clouseau goes inexplicably missing in the second half of the film (only because Edwards had run out of outtakes.) The film sets the premise for the second sequel, "Curse of the Pink Panther" (1983) which was designed to introduce a suitable replacement for the Sellers/Clouseau persona in the form of a new character. Edwards originally approached then red-hot Dudley Moore, who declined to be tied to a film franchise. He then went in the opposite direction and hired Ted Wass, a veteran of the TV sitcom "Soap", to take on the challenge of establishing himself as Sellers' successor. It was a tall order especially for a young actor who had never made a feature film and who was completely ignorant of the process. Still, it represented an offer he couldn't refuse. The script picks up where "Trail" leaves off with the world galvanized by the authorities' attempts to find what happened to "the world's greatest detective". Leading the frantic investigation is French Inspector Dreyfus (Herbert Lom), Clouseau's long-suffering boss and a klutz in his own right. Dreyfus is secretly thrilled that Clouseau has gone missing and may be dead but he's forced to oversee the search efforts. In a scene that seems inspired by "Our Man Flint", he utilizes a computer to come up with the name of the sleuth who is most qualified to take on the mission. Through a quirk, the resulting answer puzzles everyone: it turns out to be Clifton Sleigh (Ted Wass), an inept New York City police officer who, like Clouseau, has gained a reputation for efficiency despite his constant bumbling. Sleigh's own harried boss is thrilled to send him packing off to Paris to take on the investigation. Sleigh's first meeting with Dreyfus quickly crushes the latter's hopes that he might finally be working in alliance with a capable detective. The simple act of crossing room and shaking Dreyfus's hand results in Sleigh stumbling and knocking the French lawman out of a window, resulting in being hospitalized, as he had so often been due to Clouseau's ineptness. Lom's comic timing was always a major asset to the series and he's in top form here.
The story then finds Sleigh on hunt across exotic European locations in search of Clouseau. It's a journey that rapidly becomes wearying despite Edwards' attempts to liven the proceedings with frequent scenes of slapstick humor. Sleigh meets up with Cato (Burt Kwouk), Sellers' longtime man servant, who has now established their apartment as a museum in honor of his employer, replete with wax figurines representing Clouseau's greatest disguises. The scene seems more like another desperate gimmick on the part of Edwards to summon the presence of Sellers, even if its in the form of a wax model. Along the way, Sleigh also encounters characters from the early "Panther" films including those played by David Niven, Robert Wagner and Capucine (all of whom filmed their reunion scenes for "Trail" with the understanding that some of the footage would be utilized in "Curse"). The assemblage of these notable stars is one of the few inspired aspects of "Curse" and it's a joy to see them together, even though the ailing Niven had to be re-voiced by impressionist Rich Little, who did a very commendable job of it. A gangster played by Robert Loggia is introduced into the convoluted plot that takes on an "everything-but-the-kitchen sink" aspect and another character from Clouseau's past, Prof. Balls makes a couple of brief appearances to little effect despite the fact that the role is played once again by the great comedic second banana Harvey Korman. The proceedings drag on through flat and completely predictable sight gags, some of which go on interminably (i.e Sleigh in drag as an undercover cop in New York and later using a blow-up sex doll in an attempt to convince bystanders she is his girlfriend. There's also a seemingly endless fight scene in which Sleigh takes on the baddies with the help of a sexy female martial arts expert). What is most shocking about "Curse" is how the timing is off on almost every comedic set-up, which is rather surprising given the fact that Edwards originated the series and professed to care about it immensely. It would be easy to blame Ted Wass for the film's failure but in reality the young star gamely performs his required duties with admirable skill. However, he's hampered by a poorly-developed character and Edwards seemed convinced that the mere intention to name him as Sellers' successor would immediately win over audiences. However, Wass's Sgt. Sleigh is merely a klutz with none of the fabled eccentricities of his predecessor. The fact that he wears over-sized eyeglasses that make him look remarkably like Christopher Reeve's Clark Kent only adds to his burden. The film only comes alive in the final act with an extended and clever cameo appearance by Roger Moore (amusingly billed as "Turk Thrust II", a reference to Bryan Forbes' screen credit in "A Shot in the Dark"), who was simultaneously filming the James Bond movie "Octopussy" on another sound stage at Pinewood Studios. Moore's deft comedic timing steals the entire latter part of the film and left this viewer pondering that, had he been the star of the production, the movie might not have been so ill-fated. It must be said, however, that the film does boast one other positive aspect: the traditional, wonderfully animated opening credits that make it all the more apparent how frustrating movies seem today in the sense that they usually eschew opening credits all together. An entire art form is vanishing from the industry in the urge to "cut to the chase" and get immediately into the story.
Blake Edwards originally envisioned that the Ted Wass series of "Panther" films would be moved to New York City, partly to accommodate MGM's insistence that the franchise become more budget-oriented. The unpromising prospects that scenario afforded were circumvented by the failure of the movie. But the problems didn't end there. Edwards accused MGM of intentionally low-balling the film's release and not marketing it aggressively enough. The suit was settled out of court in 1988. The title "Curse of the Pink Panther"s seemed eerily prophetic for all concerned.
Woody Allen’s 1990 film Alice after
all these years brought on many emotions. I instruct the students in my Film
History class at the College of DuPage in Glen Ellyn, Illinois, that one must
always judge a film within the context of when it was released. These days,
it’s difficult to do so with the formidable filmography of Woody Allen. Can one
put aside the context of when this film
was released? Alice was made while the
writer/director’s relationship with his star, Mia Farrow, was supposedly still rosy,
less than a couple of years before the familial scandal erupted that has dogged
the filmmaker ever since. Can one ignore the presence—throughout the film—of
young Dylan Farrow, playing the role
of Alice’s daughter? Or, ironically, the small role played by James Toback in the film? (Readers
familiar with what’s been going on in Hollywood lately will understand that
the same time, Cinema Retro’s
editor-in-chief recently said, “What, are we to pretend that Allen’s entire
career never existed? Our job is to evaluate the artistry, not the personal
morality. Otherwise we’d quickly run out of people to write about.”
I couldn’t help examining Alice as an
omniscient behind-the-scenes spectator. Oddly, I’ve reviewed several new
Blu-ray releases of Allen’s movies for Cinema
Retro over the past few years, and I’ve never felt this kind of discomfort.
That doesn’t mean I can’t critique the movie’s merits, it’s just that Woody
Allen’s oeuvre now comes with baggage.
One must simply unpack it and look at what’s there on the screen.
Alice is actually a pretty
good entry in the director’s work. Considering that he’s made nearly fifty
films, this one probably belongs in the lower half of the list in ranking, but
certainly nowhere near the bottom. It’s a solid 2-1/2 or 3-star effort (out of
4), mainly due to Mia Farrow’s excellent performance as the mousy but rich
Manhattan housewife who desperately wants to change her life—but doesn’t know
is married to wealthy, but stuffy, Doug (William Hurt), who has a high-powered
job. This leaves Alice to tend to her two small children (when they’re not
cared for by nannies and maids), hang out with her socialite friends, and get
her nails and hair done. It’s a very superficial life until she meets Joe (Joe
Mantegna), a divorced father, at her children’s school. Another hard left turn
is when Alice visits a mysterious Chinese doctor (Keye Luke), who hypnotizes
her, gives her strange herbs to take, and pushes her into a fantasy world that
turns her own upside down.
many ways, Alice is a companion piece
to The Purple Rose of Cairo (1985),
another of Allen’s more whimsical pieces that deals with fanciful situations.
In Alice, Farrow’s character can
become invisible and spy on people, she can meet up with her deceased first
boyfriend (Alec Baldwin) and fly over the city with him, and she can recreate
childhood memories involving her parents and sister. It’s these elements that
make Alice a fun, if fluffy, romp. It
is also in many ways somewhat an homage to Federico Fellini’s Juliet of the Spirits (1965), in which a
bored housewife ventures into fantasy sequences to escape the doldrums of her
philandering husband and to better her own life.
owns the movie. For most of it, Alice is timid, nervous, and hesitant to try
new things—but Farrow infuses these qualities with a great deal of charm. She
literally lights up the screen with beauty and a winning pathos. Then there are
the moments when she breaks out of this “shell”—such as when one of the
doctor’s herbs makes her suggestive and flirtatious, notched up to eleven. Her seduction scene with Joe in
the school waiting area is not only hilarious, but her transformation is masterful. One comes away from it
thinking, “Wow, I didn’t know Mia Farrow could do that!” (Farrow was nominated
for a Golden Globe—and she won the Best Actress award from the National Board
of Review—for her performance.)
Actor Peter Wyngarde passed away last Monday at age 90. Although not well known in America, Wyngarde was a very popular actor in the UK thanks to his roles in the iconic TV series "Department S" and "Jason King". Wyngarde also guest starred in such iconic British shows as "The Avengers", " The Saint" and "The Prisoner", in which he appeared as Number Two in the episode "Checkmate". He also appeared in the cult horror film "Burn, Witch, Burn" and made an eerie silent appearance as the ghostly Peter Quint in the classic 1963 film "The Innocents". For more on his career, click here.
Chances are you've never heard of "Hollow Creek" (or "A Haunting in Hollow Creek", per the UK release title). It's a low-budget ($500,000) indie film that was made under the auspices of the Burt Reynolds Institute for Film and Theatre, an admirable venture that encourages film industry professionals to mentor promising younger talents in the hopes that they will be able to create inventive new feature films. "Hollow Creek" was written by an alumnus of the Institute, director Guisela Moro, who also has the female lead. The film was co-written by the male star, Steve Daron. It's an ambitious crime thriller by way of supernatural elements that looks more expensive and polished than its budget might indicate. The film, which sat on a shelf for three years, was released in 2016 and was recently made available on DVD and Amazon Prime streaming service. The plot starts off in a leisurely manner: bestselling horror novel writer Blake Blackman (Daron) arrives at his agent's vacation home located in the deep woods of rural West Virginia. He's accompanied by Angelica Santoro (Moro), who we initially presume to be his wife. Blackman is there to write his next novel but he's secretly harboring an obstacle: a severe case of writer's block. Not helping matters are the sexual distractions afforded him by Angelica, who we learn is actually his mistress. Blackman's marriage has been fragile for some time and he relishes the time spent with Angelica- but their bliss will be short-lived. While Blackman is preoccupied by trying to fill blank pages for his next book, Angelica becomes unsettled by some eerie and inexplicable events including indications someone or something is lurking in the nearby woods. She also has a brief glimpse of the ghostly apparition of a young boy. She later learns that the area has been on edge for the last few years due to the unsolved disappearances of three boys. When she thinks she recognizes one of them in the back seat of a dilapidated old vehicle, she gives chase in true Lois Lane fashion. She discovers that two of the boys have been held captive and literally kept in cages in a hidden chamber in house owned and occupied by a crazy, sadistic couple. Angelica, who has just learned she is three months pregnant with Blackman's child, is captured and imprisoned with the expectation that her child will belong to her insane captors. Meanwhile, the frantic Blackman's life begins to unravel. He's released from contract by his publishing house, his wife files for divorce and due to circumstantial evidence, he is the police department's prime suspect in Angelica's disappearance. Nevertheless, he doggedly pursues finding out what happened to Angelica and rescuing her if he can.
Were it not for some of the more sordid elements, "Hollow Creek" would have fit well into the ABC Movie of the Week productions that were telecast on TV in the 1970s. That's meant as a compliment, not a knock. The film isn't without flaws. It has a primary plot loophole in that, when Angelica goes missing, it's never explained what happened to her SUV, which was parked near the villain's house. Additionally, the film's chaotic but exciting conclusion incorporates elements of the supernatural that seem somewhat superfluous since the film succeeds on the level of being a compelling real-life crime saga. Nevertheless, it's an extraordinarily accomplished work for the aspiring director and her cast. Moro certainly doesn't give herself an easy time of it. In addition to having written and directed "Hollow Creek", she puts her character through the ringer, having to endure torture and death threats from her sadistic captors. Although the film has unsettling aspects to it, Moro refreshingly doesn't bleed into slasher territory and shows restraint when it comes to crossing the line into showing repulsive imagery. She gives a terrific performance, as does Steve Daron. The supporting cast is also exceptional with not a false note to be found. Burt Reynolds makes a brief but effective appearance in an obvious gesture to lend the credibility of his name to the film. The movie is impressively scored and shot, though cinematographer Jon Schellenger can't resist being a bit gimmicky by utilizing a distracting technique of filming some scenes inexplicably in a garish blue hue. The finale packs in some cliches and predictable action scenes but there is an imaginative and moving finale.
The FilmRise DVD boasts an excellent transfer, but frustratingly there are no extras. It would have been interesting to hear the perspectives of the principals regarding how the film was made. "Hollow Creek" is an impressive, often spellbinding thriller. If there's any justice, we should be hearing more from Guisela Moro and Steve Daron.
In the wake of their success co-starring in John Huston's The Maltese Falcon, Warner Brothers realized they had captured lightning in a bottle with the teaming of Sydney Greenstreet and Peter Lorre. The studio quickly paired the two character actors again in the Bogart films Casablanca and Passage to Marseilles. In 1944, Warners decided to give Greenstreet and Lorre what amounted to starring roles in the thriller The Mask of Dimitrios, based on the Eric Ambler novel and set in pre-WWII Europe. (Lorre received fourth billing in the film behind Greenstreet, Zachary Scott and Faye Emerson, but in terms of screen time, he is the star of the movie.) Lorre plays Cornelius Leyden, a mild mannered crime novelist who is visiting Istanbul, where he becomes intrigued by the murder of a man named Dimitrios, who was a local legend in terms of his criminal activities. Dimitrios's body has washed ashore, as shows evidence that he has been stabbed to death. Sensing a good story in the murder, Leyden pursues the man's background and finds out he was known throughout Europe for his audacious crimes. Leyden decides to track down those who interacted with Dimitrios, including jilted partner and abandoned girlfriends. All agree that he was a charismatic cad who worked his way up from petty crimes in Istanbul to being an integral part of Europe's pre-war espionage activities. Leyden is followed in his footsteps by Peters (Sydney Greenstreet), an affable man of mystery who is also obsessed with tracking down Dimitrios's acquaintances and activities leading up to the man's death. After a rocky introduction at the point of Peters' gun, the two men forge an alliance and travel through Turkey, Yuguoslavia and finally Paris in their quest. Along the way, they determine that Dimitrios is very much alive and well, having used another man's murder as an opportunity to fake his own death. Peters is determined to use that information to blackmail Dimitrios and thus ensure acquiring enough money to afford a comfortable retirement.
Much of the story is told in flashbacks as various individuals relate their experiences with Dimitrios to Leyden and Peters. As played by Zachary Scott, Dimitrios lives up to his legend as handsome womanizer and persuasive businessman, though each of his friends and partners ends up being abruptly jilted in some manner, as Dimitrios moves on to his next scam. (Jack Warner had high hopes for Scott becoming the studio's next great leading man, but his interest in promoting Scott seemed to wane and the actor never really acquired the stardom that his role in this film would seem to have assured.) Leyden and Peters also meet Irana, an entertainer in a squalid Istanbul cafe, who relates how Dimitrios became her lover and ensured that her fortunes improved. However, when she loaned him her savings, he abandoned her, never to be heard from again. Although nursing a broken heart and bearing resentment for the man on one level, she admits she still carries a torch and his abandonment of her left her in a depressed state of mind that still continues. (Apparently, once you've experienced Dimitrios, no other man comes to close as a lover.) As Leyden and Peters close in on their prey, the stakes become higher - and they realize their lives are very much at risk.
The Mask of Dimitrios, ably directed by Jean Negulesco, is a joy to watch. It doesn't have the artistic pretensions of The Maltese Falcon and Casablanca, but it is a thoroughly entertaining movie. Lorre and Greenstreet's "Mutt and Jeff" act continues to present them as essentially the same character in film after film, but that doesn't in any way compromise the delight of watching these two eccentric actors at the peak of their careers. The supporting performances are also equally delightful and the film bares all the rich artistic hallmarks of a WB release from the era.
The Warner Archive has released the film as a burn-to-order DVD. The transfer is excellent. An original trailer is included that features specially-filmed footage of Greenstreet and Lorre addressing the audience. The DVD is region free.
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Attention, Cinerama fans! The Museum of Modern Art in New York City will present a lecture about the history of the format on Sunday, January 21. Here is the official press release:
Cinerama was a screening system created on Long Island
and introduced to audiences on Broadway in the 1940s; its unparalleled success
launched the widescreen revolution of the 1950s. The Cinerama, Inc., digital
restoration team of David Strohmaier and Randy Gitsch will discuss the history
of the Cinerama and the Cinemiracle process, including its motion pictures, and
the unique problems they faced in restoring their three-strip format legacy
There are countless film
noirs meriting Blu-ray treatment, but perhaps none so deserving as T-Men (1947), arguably the best of the
documentary-style noirs of the late 1940s, distinguished by its uncompromising
tone, stylish direction and brilliant cinematography. While many individuals
contributed to its success, the film was above all a triumph of creative
collaboration between two of Hollywood’s greatest visual artists: director
Anthony Mann and cinematographer John Alton. The two capitalized on the film’s
narrative—government agents infiltrating a counterfeiting ring in an underworld
of sudden cruelty and shifting allegiances—to push the noir/crime film to new
extremes of stylized violence and subjective intensity.
Although better known for
his dark psychological westerns of the 1950s, Mann honed his craft in the even
darker waters of forties film noir. Like many directors of his generation, Mann
cut his teeth in the demanding arena of B movies, churning out a dozen
bottom-of-the-bill programmers for Republic, RKO and PRC between 1942-1947. Although
he made several musicals during this period, Mann was much more at home
directing noirish films like The Great
Flamarion (1945) and Strange
Impersonation (1946), which gave scope to his thematic obsession with conflicted,
desperate characters navigating through a world of moral ambivalence and
Mann was the thinking man’s
director par excellence, equally adept at staging dynamic set pieces as probing
his protagonists’ inner responses to narrative stimuli, usually in the same
scene. His sensitivity to characters better able to cope with physical rather
than psychological roadblocks made him right at home in the existential
uncertainties of noir. Relentless pacing, kinetic visuals and an intense focus
on the emotional and psychological dissonance of his characters were among his
hallmarks. T-Men, made for Eagle Lion
Films, was the fullest realization of his aesthetic to date.
Helping Mann transfer his
dark vision to the screen was legendary cinematographer John Alton, whose
chiaroscuro photography recalled the glory days of German film expressionism.
The Hungarian-born Alton was among the most daring and experimental of
Hollywood cameramen. His work sometimes bordered on the abstract, but only when
it served the needs of the story. Often stuck with directors unreceptive to his
ideas, his pairing with the open-minded Mann was a match made in noir heaven. Alton’s shadowy, half-lit urban
environments provide the perfect visual correlative to Mann’s thematic emphasis
on paranoia and emotional crisis. Known for his minimal use of lights—he got
better effects with a handful of lights than cameramen who used dozens—Alton
succinctly summed up his photographic philosophy: “It’s not what you light,
it’s what you don’t light.”
marked the appearance of another significant creative partner for Mann in the
person of John C. Higgins, who had penned the director’s previous film, Railroaded (1947). Higgins was one of noir’s
more prolific and dependable screenwriters. In addition to the five films he did
with Mann, he also scripted the iconic noirs Shield for Murder (1954) and Big
House, U.S.A. (1955). While T-Men’s
accolades are typically reserved for Alton’s chiaroscuro and Mann’s
nerve-shredding mise en scène, Higgins’ tough, pungent dialog shouldn’t be
overlooked. He was arguably the first quality screenwriter Mann worked with.
Higgins’ tight scenario
centers on treasury agents Dennis O’Brien (Dennis O’Keefe) and Tony Genaro
(Alfred Ryder), who go undercover to break up a counterfeiting operation working
out of Detroit and Los Angeles. Posing as members of a once-prominent Detroit
gang (O’Brien adopting the moniker Vannie Harrigan, Genaro becoming Tony
Galvani), the pair gain conditional access to the organization through a
low-level middleman called The Schemer (Wallace Ford), offering as bait an
engraving plate of exceptional quality. Having fallen from favor with his
employers, the Schemer hopes to redeem himself by brokering a deal between his
felonious new pals and the organization’s top brass. The latter are interested
but wary, and as negotiations proceed keep O’Brien and Genaro under close surveillance
by the gang’s enforcer Moxie (Charles McGraw).
Steve McQueen with co-star Tuesday Weld on location in New Orleans in this rare behind the scenes photo for "The Cincinnati Kid". The film was directed by Norman Jewison, who stepped in after Sam Peckinpah had been fired after incurring artistic differences with producer Martin Ransohoff.
Warner Archive has released the little-remembered 1969 adventure film Kenner. Although we'll watch Brown in virtually anything, this film is pretty much a klunky, under-scripted misfire, directed by Steve Sekely, who specialized in B movies. (His greatest success was Day of the Triffids.) Brown plays the title role of Roy Kenner, a rugged, no-nonsense seafarer who arrives in Bombay ostensibly to locate an old friend who has gone missing. In fact, he's trying to track down a ruthless criminal named Jordan (Charles Horvath), a one-time partner whose double crossing ways resulted in the death of Kenner's best friend. The film's misguided premise is to show the touchy-feely side of Brown when virtually no one went to his films looking for his touchy-feely side. Within minutes of arriving in Bombay, he encounters Saji (Ricky Cordell), an adorable child of the streets who longs to see his American father. His devoted mother Anasuya (Madlyn Rhue) keeps a terrible secret from him: she is a prostitute who doesn't even know who fathered the boy. Saji helps Kenner escape harm at the hands of an angry mob and, as a result, the two become inseparable. Kenner romances Anasuya, but both mother and son become unwitting participants in Kenner's dangerous attempts to track down Jordan. The film meanders from one chase to another, and director Sekely does the best he can to capitalize on the exotic locations in old Bombay and provides a few exciting, well-staged chase scenes. However. everyone seems to realize they are participating in a bottom-of-the-double-feature production. Brown is uncharacteristically bland, phoning in his performance and performing the requisite action sequences with something less than zeal. There is one surprising plot development that does pack some emotional impact, but the film is, in the overall sense, a misfire. The former footballer-turned-action star was overexposed at the time, with six movies released between 1968-1969 though he would later redeem himself with more successful films than this. The supporting cast of Kenner contributes some admirable performances, with old hand Robert Coote as a devious English aristocrat providing a few interesting moments. However, the performance of Charles Horvath as the villain is poor enough to make viewers grateful that he has limited screen time. Unless you have an urgent desire to see what Bombay looked like in 1969, this Brown title will be only for the actor's hard-core fans. The DVD contains the original trailer, which plays up the exotic locations and action elements, while pointedly avoiding the attempts to soft-soap Brown's character.
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The blurb above ran on November 15, 1963 in the Film Daily trade magazine. Carl Foreman's expensive and ambitious WWII drama "The Victors" was screened in advance for war correspondents. The film was a dark and cynical look at the experiences of everyday soldiers in the WWII European campaign. An impressive cast of established stars and up-and-coming talent appeared in the film but the movie had a tortured history. Released during the Christmas season, the movie's downbeat, anti-war message didn't resonate with audiences. The movie was severely cut with different length versions appearing in various areas of the globe. The full director's cut has never been reconstructed. Additionally, the movie has never been released on DVD or Blu-ray in the USA, though it is available in the UK and European markets. Even in a truncated version, Foreman's film still packs a punch.
(The fascinating story behind the making of "The Victors" is covered in detail in Cinema Retro's tribute to films of WWII issue. Click here to order)
it would be a wait of 15 months before it hit British screens, Phenomena –
Dario Argento’s ninth feature release – was first unveiled to Italian audiences
early in 1985. It had been three years since Tenebrae (which despite stiff
competition is my favourite Argento) and at the time Phenomena was broadly
considered his weakest offering. It’s narrative core, which concerns a young
girl communing with insects in order to identify a maniac killer, was indisputably
a shade bananas (rather apt given the significant involvement of a vengeful
primate!), but for me it was by no means his least interesting film to that
point and considering the mixed bag of cinematic fodder bearing his name that’s
appeared in the years since, I’d not hesitate to cite it as one of his more
Corvino (Jennifer Connelly), the teenage daughter of a famous movie star,
arrives at The Richard Wagner International School for Girls in Switzerland
where she learns from her new roommate that a number of girls in the area have
gone missing, the possible victims of a serial killer. Jennifer suffers from somnambulism
and one night she wakens to find herself lost in the woods, whereupon she
encounters a friendly chimpanzee which leads her to safety at the nearby home
of its owner, wheelchair-bound entomologist Professor John McGregor (Donald
Pleasence). Jennifer is fascinated by insects and when she tells McGregor she’s
able to communicate with them telepathically the two become firm friends.
McGregor has been assisting police on the serial killer case in an advisory
capacity and believes that the corpses of the missing girls can be tracked down
by the Great Sarcophagus, a species of fly that can detect rotting flesh. He
duly convinces Jennifer she can help solve the case by using one that he has
captive to guide her to the refuge of the killer.
(with Franco Ferrini), produced and directed by Argento, it’s obvious from the
above précis that Phenomena is structured upon some pretty outré ideas. But
even if the results aren’t entirely satisfying, I applaud the man for
attempting to do something beyond playing safe and recycling the same old
giallo formula. Besides which, overlooking its inadequacies – not least of
which is a run-time that overstretches the narrative’s ability to fully engage –
there’s some really good stuff going on here.
of that run-time, if ever proof were needed that it’s possible to have too much
of a good thing then Phenomena is it. There exist three versions of the movie:
the 116-minute Italian cut, a 110-minute international edit, and an American
theatrical cut (retitled Creepers and which, at 83-minutes, had almost a third of
the Italian original’s run-time sheared off it); against all expectation it’s
the latter tightened-up version that arguably plays best.
I digress. The Swiss locations are breathtaking and in terms of set-up, Phenomena’s
opening sequence – which finds a young girl on a class trip into the mountains
being inadvertently left behind when the coach departs (they used to count us
aboard in my day!) – is terrific. The girl, played by his teenage daughter
Fiore, goes looking for help and happens across a chalet nestled in the
hillside where someone (or something!) tries to kill her. She flees but is
pursued by the grunting, scissor-wielding maniac to an observation platform
overlooking a waterfall. All the pieces are in place for the film’s first
murder sequence and with almost lascivious relish the camera observes a
stabbing, followed by a slo-mo backwards lurch through a plate glass window and
finally a decapitation. There’s graphic mayhem aplenty peppered throughout the
remainder of the movie (including a protracted wallow in a vile stew of rotting
cadavers), but for sheer style this opener is never quite matched.
Connelly was 14-years-old when she shot Phenomena and given that it was only
her second feature film appearance (following a small part in 1984’s Once Upon
a Time in America), it’s remarkable just how confidently she carries the film;
not only a budding beauty but already exhibiting the talent that would carry
her on to great acclaim (including an Oscar for A Beautiful Mind) in the years
ahead. Donald Pleasence showed up in a fistful of Italian chillers of varied
worth during the 1980s and he’s as reliably entertaining as ever here, adopting
a Scottish accent as the academic whose closest chum is a chimp. Argento’s
long-time partner and go-to leading lady (cf. Deep Red, Inferno, Tenebrae, Opera)
Daria Nicolodi delivers with elan, so too for that matter does gorgeous Flesh
for Frankenstein star Dalila Di Lazzaro, present as Jennifer’s chaperone and
school headmistress respectively. It’s good to see prolific player Patrick
Bauchau on hand too, although he’s a tad underused as the investigating police
inspector, very much relegated to the sidelines of the action.
Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow were immortalized as big screen anti-heroes in Arthur Penn's 1967 classic "Bonnie and Clyde". However, as an article in the Daily Mail indicates, their string of notorious bank robberies and sometimes fatal shoot-outs led to them being media sensations in the 1930s- but also resulted in a rather miserable existence. The basics of the movie's screenplay kept most of the main facts historically accurate, but as you'll see from the article there was also plenty of artistic license as well. Unlike Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway, the real life Bonnie and Clyde were far from sex symbols. They did capture the imagination of the American public at a time when the country was grappling with depression from the Depression. It was an era in which the most notorious gangsters flourished, though all met inglorious demises, as did Bonnie and Clyde who were lured into a fatal ambush on a country road. The article presents a wealth of historical photographs of the couple as well as some morbid shots of their dead bodies, which were put on display as though they were carnival attractions. Also featured is a newly-found photograph of the couple embracing that has never been published before. Click here to read.
sports films are ubiquitous in the movie world today, this wasn’t always the
case. The ability of a sports story to
transcend its roots in a game and become a triumphant story of the human spirit
was arguably first done in the 1942 film The Pride of The Yankees. A new book
about this film came out in June of 2017 from Hachette Books, written by
Richard Sandomir: The Pride of the Yankees: Lou Gehrig, Gary Cooper and the Making of a Classic. This work is an impressive look at not only the making of the
film, but also its cultural impact.
of The Yankees is an ultimate hero story: the immigrant son who has a natural
ability in a truly American past time only to be cut down in his prime by a
fatal disease. It may sound like a natural for the film studios to develop, but
as Sandomir points out in his book, this wasn’t always the case. Sam Goldwyn
had to be convinced to make a movie about baseball. What finally moved the
mogul to go ahead with the project was seeing film of Lou Gehrig’s “Luckiest
Man” speech on July 4, 1939 in Yankee stadium. The connection was with the
human side of the story, never with the sport.
reading the making of chapters of any book that discusses a film in detail,
it’s always interesting to see who emerges as the main characters in the story
behind the story. Since this film was about Lou Gehrig, the “Iron Horse” ball
player takes center stage. His strong-willed, independent widow Eleanor
Twitchell is just as an important character, if in fact not more so than Gehrig
himself. As the author lays out, it is Eleanor who made sure that Lou’s memory
stayed alive after his death. Another star that emerges behind the scenes is
Paul Gallico. Although Gallico is best known for his later career as the author
of The Poseidon Adventure and other novels, he was a sports writer during the
1930s and as such became a chronicler of Lou Gehrig’s career. His 1941 book
about the athlete, Lou Gehrig: The Pride of The Yankees became the official
source material for the movie.
as the makers of the movie had to deal with the conundrum of trying to figure
out how much actual baseball to have in the film, the author of a book about a
baseball movie has to balance those two seemingly opposite entities. Sandomir
does a good job in striking just such a balance; the book is much more about
the movie and it’s impact than it is about America’s favorite pastime. This is
an impressive accomplishment when one realizes that the author was a sports
reporter for the New York Times for many years and must have had to resist the
impulse to discuss in heavy detail the intricacies of the sport. When reading
the book, one need only have a very basic knowledge of baseball, and even if a
reader doesn’t possess this information, they should take comfort in realizing
that they still probably know more about baseball than Samuel Goldwyn, the
producer of the movie.
Other sections of this book discuss Babe
Ruth’s career on film and playing himself in Pride; whether or not Gary Cooper,
a natural right hander, actually batted left handed in his baseball scenes or
if the filmmakers reversed the negative; the real life friction between
Gehrig’s widow and his mother and how this was tapered down for the film. An interesting later chapter describes Gary
Cooper on a USO tour in late 1943 in the South Pacific and, after a big demand
from the troops, re-created Gehrig’s famous “Luckiest Man” speech to the best
of his memory.
The Pride of The Yankees: Lou Gehrig, Gary
Cooper, and The Making of a Classic is an excellent book and a great look at
the making of what may just be the greatest sports movie of all time.
It started with a rather innocuous post on the Cinema Retro Facebook page of the paperback movie tie-in novel for "Beneath the Planet of the Apes" along with a notation that we missed the era in which so many new films spawned the release of these editions. Before you could say "Dr. Zaius", readers from around the globe chimed in with their own memories of reading and collecting these books. Best of all, many of them took us up on the challenge to post any photos they might have from their own personal collections. Before long, there was a plethora of great images posted, bringing back memories of paperbacks based on "Dirty Harry", "Taxi Driver", "Star Wars", "The Mechanic" and so many others. Click here to join the fun and feel free to add your own observations and photos. (Note: to view all the entries, go to the end of the article and click on "View more comments" link.)
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Director Guy Green with stars Elizabeth Hartman and Sidney Poitier on location in Los Angeles for "A Patch of Blue" in 1965. Note that the theater seen in the background is showing a double feature of British oldies-but-goodies: Peter Sellers in "Trial and Error" and Terry-Thomas in "Kill or Cure".
Burt Reynolds had been gnawing around the boundaries of genuine stardom for more than a decade, starring in short-lived television shows and top-lining "B" movies. He ingratiated himself to the American public by showcasing his wit and comedic abilities by appearing on chat shows. In 1972, he struck gold when director John Boorman cast him opposite Jon Voight as the two male leads in the sensational film adaptation of James Dickey's "Deliverance". Finally, he could be classified as a major movie star. Soon, Reynolds was cranking out major films even while his uncanny ability to publicize himself resulted in such stunts as his famed provocative centerfold pose in Cosmopolitan magazine. On screen, Reynolds sensed that he could cultivate an especially enthusiastic audience if he catered to rural movie-goers. He was proven right with the release of "White Lightning", a highly enjoyable 1973 action/comedy that perfectly showcased Reynolds' favored image as a handsome, unflappable hero with a Bondian knack for tossing off quips while facing death and also engaging in good ol' boy towel-snapping humor. Playing bootlegger Gator McClusky, Reynolds drew major crowds, very much pleasing United Artists, which enjoyed hefty profits from the modestly-budgeted production. Reynolds learned, however, that his audience wouldn't necessarily follow him if he deviated from that image. When he went against the grain in films like "The Man Who Loved Cat Dancing", "At Long Last Love" and "Lucky Lady", the movies bombed. When he stuck to the basics, he had hits with "Shamus", "The Longest Yard" and "W.W. and the Dixie Dance Kings". The legendary Variety headline that read "Hix Nix Stix Pix" was no longer true. The American heartland loved Burt Reynolds, especially when he played characters that rural audiences could embrace.
In 1976, Reynolds fulfilled another career milestone by directing his first feature film, a sequel to "White Lightning" titled "Gator". Like the first movie, it was shot entirely on location in Georgia and picked up on the adventures of everyone's favorite moonshiner. When we first see Gator in the sequel, he his getting out of jail only to be targeted by the feds to be used as a pawn in a multi-state crackdown on an epidemic of political corruption that threatens the career of the self-serving, ambitious governor (played very well by famed chat show host Mike Douglas in his big screen debut.) Gator is living in a shack located deep in an inhospitable swamp with his elderly father and precocious 9 year-old daughter when the feds launch a major raid to arrest him on moonshining charges. In reality, they want to use the warrant as leverage to convince him to go undercover for them inside the crime ring. Gator wants no part of it and leads the feds on a merry chase around the bayou in which he is pursued by speed boats and helicopters before finally relenting. The lead federal agent in charge is Irving Greenfield (Jack Weston), an overweight, hyper-nervous Jewish guy from Manhattan who has the unenviable task of ensuring that Gator follows orders. A good portion of the film's laugh quotient comes from Irving's less-than-convincing attempts to "blend in" with small town southern locals. The crime ring is run by Bama McCall (Jerry Reed), an outwardly charming and charismatic fellow who, in reality, uses brutally violent methods to ensure loyalty and intimidate local businessmen to pay protection money. He and Gator are old acquaintances and he doesn't hesitate to give Gator a good-paying job as an enforcer for his mob. Things become more intriguing when Gator sets eyes on Aggie Maybank (Lauren Hutton), an attractive local TV anchor with liberal political beliefs that find her squaring off against Bama in order to protect the poor merchants he is exploiting. "Gator" proceeds on a predictable path but its predictability doesn't detract from its merits, which are considerable. Reynolds is a joy to watch and it's small wonder he leaped to the top ranks of cinematic leading men. His cocky, self-assured persona served him well on the big screen and "Gator" is custom-made to please his core audience. He also proved to be a very able director, handling the action scenes and those of unexpected tragic twists with equal skill. He also gets very good performances from his eclectic cast, with Weston engaging in his usual penchant for scene-stealing. Reed also shines in a rare villainous role and ex-model Hutton proves she has admirable acting chops, as well. The action scenes are impressive thanks to the oversight of the legendary Hal Needham, who would forge a long-time collaborative relationship with Reynolds.
Dutton Vocalion has released three3 more
impressive titles in their SACD range. The Black Motion Picture Experience /
Music for Soulful Lovers (CDSML 8531) is as a twofer release featuring The
Cecil Holmes Soulful Sounds. There’s a perfect symmetry about this particular
CD. Both albums were released on the famous Buddah label back in 1973 and both
were released in Stereo and Quadrophonic pressings. Vocalion’s new CD marks the
debut of both albums in both formats. Both titles were originally released back
in the height of the Blaxploitation boom. The first of the Holmes albums
consists of a great selection of major Blaxploitation themes including Super
fly (1972), Shaft (1971) and Across 110th street (1972), but there’s
also a great deal more than the usual, often repeated titles. Slaughter (1972)
is a nice addition to the track listing, considering a soundtrack album was
never released. Holmes also diverts somewhat curiously with tracks such as Also
Sprach Zarathustra from 2001 (1968) and the Love Theme from Lady sings the
Blues (1972). However, there’s a very nice funky edge to these tracks which never
make them seem out of place and therefore fit in rather seamlessly.
Music for Soulful Lovers works as a perfect accompaniment
to The Black Motion Picture Experience. Again, the album consists of many popular
songs from the period, so expect more vocal tracks. But of course, the vocals
are deep, evocative and very, very smooth. Aside from some very nicely produced covers of songs by Barry White,
Stevie Wonder and The Stylistics, the album also contained three original
compositions, all of which are silky and slick. In fact, it’s Holmes himself
who provides the Barry White-influenced vocals ontwo of these tracks – and hey,
it actually works extremely well!
Vocalion’s mastering by Michael J. Dutton
(from the original master tapes) is pin sharp and contains the punchy clarity
that we have come to expect. Great notes and super use of the irreplaceable
artwork make this a damn near perfect retro experience. (Disc total 73.17)
Vocalion have returned to familiar territory
with their release of Henry Mancini’s twofer CD The Return of the Pink Panther
/ Symphonic Soul (CDSML 8535). Released in 1975, both albums were also launched
in Stereo and Quadrophonic versions. So it’s nice to see Vocalion’s CD make a
welcome debut on the hybrid SACD format. As far as Mancini pairings go, this
selection works extremely well. The choice of Return of the Pink Panther is
undoubtedly a smart move as it is arguably the best of the Panther soundtracks.
Recorded at London’s CTS studios, there’s a nice range of styles spread across
this memorable score. Released on the cusp of the disco era, there’s naturally
a great deal of funky guitar riffs (provided by session musician Alan Parker)
as well as some beautiful pieces such as ‘Dreamy’ which saw Mancini himself
take to the piano. The highlight piece is arguably The Return of the Pink
Panther (parts 1 & 2) which accompanied the theft of the Pink Panther
diamond. It’s a great piece of composition which incorporates both the Pink
Panther theme, a slow (but increasing dramatic) tension builder and a full on
frenzy of brass and strings for its climax.
Supporting Mancini’s soundtrack release is
his studio album, Symphonic Soul. The album was recorded in L.A. and manages to
merge the funky mid 70s sound with Mancini’s lush orchestrations. Mancini
brought a few of his own new compositions to the album including the wonderful
title track. He also took this opportunity to introduce a new souped-up version
of his memorable Peter Gunn theme. There’s also some well-established period
pieces to be found among the track listing including a great variation of The
Average White Band’s funk anthem ‘Pick up the pieces’ and Herbie Hancock’s ‘Butterfly’.
Vocalion’s mastering by Michael J. Dutton
(from the original master tapes) is reflective of the label’s usual high
standards whilst a detailed 8 page booklet rounds off the packaging perfectly. (Disc
The year 1968 proved to be one of the most dramatic in American history. With the Vietnam War protest movement in high gear, the assassinations of Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert F. Kennedy, the decision by President Lyndon B. Johnson to not run for a second term, the Chicago riots and the the chaos in the Democratic party that lead to Richard Nixon's return from the political graveyard, at times it seemed like the very fabric of American society was falling apart. So it came as no surprise that the exhausted citizenry would try to find some temporary solace through popular entertainment. The movie "Yours, Mine and Ours" was a considerable hit partly because it starred two Hollywood icons: Lucille Ball and Henry Fonda and partly because it was so far removed from the contentious factors that defined every day living for most people. The film marked Lucille Ball's second-to-last big screen appearance (her final one being the ill-fated 1974 screen adaptation of "Mame"). She was never overly enamored of making theatrical films since she had such a loyal following on television. "Ours" was a notable exception and the film provided her with a good role in which to show she still had the timing that made her a comedy legend.
The film is based on the story of a real-life North and Beardsley families and inspired Helen North Beardsley (played by Lucy in the film) to write a book titled "Who gets the Drumstick?", which explored the humorous anecdotes of running a household with 22 children. Lucy had read the book and saw the potential for a screen adaptation. She enlisted her long-time sitcom writers Bob Carroll, Jr and Madelyn Davis to come up with a story for a feature film. Melville Shavelson, an old pro and directing comedy films, was brought on board to helm the production and co-write the screenplay. The coup was casting Henry Fonda as the husband, Frank Beardsley. The final script tossed out most real-life accuracies in favor of Hollywood schmaltz, which may be why Helen North Beardsley's book isn't officially credited as a source. (In real life, the Beardsley clan ended up mired in divorce and sibling disputes that extend to this day.) The film opens with Frank Beardsley (Fonda), a career naval officer returning from an extended stint at sea. Recently widowed, Frank has ten children ranging in age from late teens to infants. His brother and sister-in-law (the real heroes of the story) have been caring for them all until he returns. Once Frank assumes the dual duties of both mom and dad, he predictably finds the workload overwhelming. He keeps bumping into Helen North (Lucy), an attractive nurse on the naval base and the two are immediately attracted to each other. She has also recently been widowed and has eight children of her own. Amusingly, when the two go on their first date, each is reluctant to reveal to the other that they have such a large family. When the beans are spilled, they decide they can make the situation work to their advantage by getting married.
What follows is predictable bedlam as the kids resist being forced to share their home with the "other' family. Much time is spent on Helen trying to placate both sides and managing to alienate everyone. Meanwhile, hubby Frank resumes his naval duties, thus leaving Helen to deal with the 24/7 chaos but he does amusingly institute a navy-like system of keeping order in the house that mimics Capt. Von Trapp's methods in "The Sound of Music". The film is typical of these big family comedies in that the smaller kids tend to be lovable while the teenagers are self-centered and arrogant. It will not require a spoiler alert to state that in the end a crisis unites everyone to form one big, happy family. The film plays out like a big screen version of a sitcom with every predictable sight gag imaginable, albeit with a bit of saucy sexual humor thrown in. Nevertheless, it manages to be entertaining throughout thanks in large part to the engaging cast. Lucy and Fonda have genuine screen chemistry. Van Johnson pops up occasionally as Fonda's fellow naval officer and close friend and manages to get few laughs in a cliched buddy role. Tom Bosley makes a brief but amusing appearance as a physician who makes a house call on the Beardsley abode only to find the situation mind-boggling in terms of the sheer craziness on display. The film was obviously supposed to serve as a vehicle of tolerance for very large families but unintentionally seems to be a promotion for Planned Parenthood. Despite taking place during the height of the Vietnam War protests, when elder son Tim Matheson ends up being drafted, the family sends him off with all the concern that might be expended on a kid going to 4-H camp for a week. The film is devoid of any reflection of the political and social strife that had affected every American family during this crucial year. However, no one goes to see Lucille Ball in order to be reminded of social problems and director Melville Shavelson does an admirable job of making a cornball scenario play out more successfully than might have been imagined.
The movie has been released on Blu-ray by Olive Films and the transfer looks great. The only bonus extra is a work print trailer that doesn't seem to be finalized.
Director Bernardo Bertolucci with Marlon Brando and Maria Schneider on the set of "Last Tango in Paris". The film's notorious sexual content overshadowed its artistic merits. Among them: a brilliant Oscar-nominated performance by Brando in which he laid bare inner demons that haunted him personally over the course of his life. Brando always dismissed the film by saying that he never knew what it was about but he also implied he regretted doing it because it revealed far too much of his inner turmoils. Maria Schneider was only 19 years-old when she made the movie and would later say that, she too, regretted the experience because she claimed to have been sexually manipulated by both Brando and Bertolucci. Nevertheless, the film remains powerful viewing even today in an era in which it would be unthinkable for a legendary leading man to make a movie this bold and groundbreaking. -Lee Pfeiffer
Business isn’t exactly booming for private
detective Peter Joseph Detweiler, better known as P.J. His makeshift office is
in a bar belonging to his only friend Charlie, his sporadic jobs include
entrapping cheating wives and he is not above drowning his sorrows in liquor. So
when wealthy magnate William Orbison offers him a substantial fee to be a
bodyguard for his mistress, Maureen Prebble, he jumps at the chance. What P.J.
doesn’t know is that Orbison has already hired someone else to commit a murder.
How this murder and the shamus’s new job intersect is the crux of the terrific
1968 neo-noir from Universal, P.J. (U.K.
title: New Face in Hell.)
Private detectives were prominent in the late
1960s and included Harper (1966), Tony Rome (1967), Gunn (1967), and Marlowe (1969).
P.J. appeared in the midst of this
surplus, which may account in part for its box office failure. The movie quickly
disappeared, at least in its original form. Due to one extended and bloody
sequence in a gay bar as well as to other scenes of violence and sexuality,
Universal drastically cut and re-edited the movie for its television network
presentation. Since then, it has never been officially released on home video
and the original version may be lost forever.
Philip Reisman, Jr.’s screenplay is based on
his original story co-written with producer Edward Montagne. The script initially
unfolds as a conventional mystery but gets increasingly complicated with each
twist and turn. Maureen appears to definitely need a bodyguard, in view of threatening
letters as well as a shot fired into her bedroom. And there is no shortage of
suspects who would like to see her dead. Orbison’s emotionally fragile wife,
Betty, resents the very thought of her husband’s paramour. Betty’s relatives despise
Maureen because of her emergence as principle beneficiary in Orbison’s will. Orbison’s
Executive Assistant, Jason Grenoble, due to his apparent affluent upbringing, is
displeased about being used as a flunky. Making P.J.’s job more difficult is Orbison’s
decision to take everyone, including relatives and mistress, to his hideaway in
the Caribbean island of St. Crispin’s. And it is in this tropical setting that
P.J. is forced to kill a suspect. This seems to be the end of the case. But it
is really only the end of the second act. The third act is filled with
intrigue, deception, blackmail and three brutal deaths.
John Guillermin is an underappreciated
director who created admirable films in many genres, including mystery, adventure,
war and western as well as the disaster and monster genres. His success could perhaps be due not only to his
skill but to a style that is unobtrusive. He directs P.J. in a straightforward fashion, not allowing any directorial flourishes
to interrupt the flow of the story. With cinematographer Loyal Griggs, he cleverly
contrasts the seedy sections of New York City with the natural beauty of St.
Crispin’s. However, this beauty is soon tainted by the presence of Orbison, whose
wealth the island’s economy requires to flourish. Guillermin allows each of the
characters within Orbison’s contingent enough screen time to make an impact.
Basically, they all appear to be self-centered, greedy and nasty. Orbison is
especially sadistic, in addition to being notoriously miserly. Maureen doesn’t
apologize for providing sexual favors in exchange for future wealth. Betty is
willing to be repeatedly humiliated to obtain her customary allowance. Grenoble
continually demeans himself to keep his well-paid position. And then there is butler
Shelton Quell, who is not as harmless as his effeminate mannerisms suggest. This
is a sordid group of characters that P.J. is involved with but his dire
financial state has apparently extinguished his conscience, particularly since
he soon becomes intimately involved with the body that he is guarding. P.J.’s
essential irony arises from the fact that he is equally greedy, at least
initially. He also seems to be morally bankrupt. When he encounters Orbison
leaving Maureen’s cottage, it doesn’t faze him that they have just engaged in a
quickie. P.J. knows that he has sold his gun to Orbison just as Maureen has
sold her body.
In the early 1960s, George Peppard became a
major star in expensive films such as The
Carpetbaggers and How the West Was
Won. In mid-decade, he starred in another big-budget film, The Blue Max, the first of three movies
he would make with John Guillermin. In the late 1960s and early 1970s, he starred
in several smaller-budgeted movies. While some of them, especially Pendulum and The Groundstar Conspiracy are exceptional, others are unremarkable.
The commercial failure of these movies diminished his star status and he was
relegated to series television. This was regrettable because he had genuine
star quality as well as considerable talent.
As P.J. Detweiler, Peppard creates a unique
private eye that puts him apart from his cinematic brethren. P.J. initially appears
disillusioned with his life and work. Like many film noir protagonists, he is one
of society’s alienated outcasts. He is not just down and out but seems resigned
to his dismal situation. When he is offered the lucrative position of
bodyguard, he is so destitute that he agrees to a humiliating audition of
fisticuffs. As he begins his job, he appears impassive to the decadence of
Orbison’s environment. However, after he has been duped and discarded, he
asserts himself and becomes a traditional detective who is determined to pursue
clues and solve the mystery. But unlike traditional detectives, he doesn’t
derive any pleasure from the solution to the crime. The fact that he has been maneuvered
into facilitating a murder has emotionally drained him. At the end of the film,
he forces a cheerless smile at Charlie but he is unable to sustain it,
replacing it quickly with a look of despair. All of these emotions are
reflected in Peppard’s superb portrayal.
Admittedly I'm not proficient in analyzing Italian "giallo" films. They represent a peculiar genre combining film noir with tinges of crime and overt sexual behavior, often of a perverse nature. Director Giulio Questi's bizarrely-titled "Death Laid an Egg" is a 1968 production that has acquired a significant cult appeal. It's easy to see why. The movie is a mind-bending exercise in quasi-surrealism combined with Hitchcockian elements of kinky people involved in murderous activities. Much of the action takes place in- get this- a state-of-the-art chicken processing plant run by Anna (Gina Lollobrigida), a sexy and dominating woman who constantly berates her long-suffering husband Marco (Jean-Louis Trintignant). The couple has a marriage of convenience and spend much of their time bickering about how to run the plant, which is in financial trouble and is beset with problems with recently fired workers who hang about and exhibiting threatening behavior. The plant is of great concern to their financial investors who are pushing Anna and Marco to develop a mutant form of chicken that will dispense with such unnecessary parts as the head, thereby improving profitability. This strange premise sets the basis for the story, which only gets weirder as the plot progresses. Anna and Marco's marriage is threatened by the presence of their sensuous, live-in secretary Gabrielle (Ewa Aulin), a sexually liberated teenager who has a magnetic hold on the couple. Marco is scheming how to get away from Anna and start a new life with Gabrielle but he's financially dependent upon Anna's fortune in order to survive. Meanwhile, Anna is equally smitten by her and the two women even sleep together, implying they, too, have a sexual relationship. However, Anna is having an affair with another man, Luigi (Renato Romano) who she considers to be her real lover. They are scheming how to manipulate Anna and Marco for their own financial advantage. Complicating matters is Marco's hobby-- which is checking into a roadside hotel frequented by prostitutes and abusing and even murdering the ladies of the night in ritualistic S&M practices. There is also a Felliniesque scene in which pampered members of the social elite engage in a strange party game that involves randomly selected guests forming pairs and entering a deserted room where presumably they are to explore their inner-most sexual fantasies. Toss into the mix a subplot in which chemists realize their dream of creating the mutant chicken, which pleases the financial backers of the processing plant- only to have Marco react with disgust about the development, leading him to suffer a breakdown of sorts that threatens his own livelihood. Got all that? If so, then please explain it to me.
The film's scattershot plot devices make it hard to follow. Director Questi moves the action along at too-brisk-a-pace to fully comprehend what we need to absorb in order to fully comprehend the characters' motivations and who is doing what to whom. You'll probably find yourself revisiting key parts of the movie in an attempt to gain a better understanding of what is going on. Having said that, the film is stylishly presented and is bizarre enough to hold the viewer's attention. Helping matters are the performances of Trintigant, Lollobrigida and Aulin. The first two actors were royalty of the European cinema at the time the movie was made and they deliver the goods. Perhaps most surprising is the fact that young Ewa Aulin, whose brief career has left her regarded as a flash-in-the-pan sex symbol of the era, gives an impressive, nuanced and admirable performance in the presence of her two esteemed co-stars. The film also benefits from an inspired score by Bruno Maderna that perfectly captures the bizarre mood of this very bizarre film.
Fans of "Death Laid an Egg" have had to subside on sub-par home video releases of the movie but now the creative folks at Cult Epics have issued a Blu-ray/DVD edition that must be a substantial improvement over existing releases. The film is presented in its original Italian language version with English sub-titles in an aspect ratio of 1.78:1, but IMDB lists the original theatrical ratio as 1.85:1, which may explain why the opening credits are subjected to some of the names being partially cropped. Still, it's an impressive release and there are some welcome bonus extras including the original trailer, isolated soundtrack score and a nice photo gallery of promotional materials. The movie is certainly an acquired taste but if you're feeling adventurous, give it a try.
Cary Grant was one of the few actors to defy the effects of aging. The older he got, the more popular his films became. By the late 1950s Grant had become uncomfortable making movies because he realized audiences only wanted to see him as a romantic lead and he felt self-conscious about studio insistence that he be seen on screen romancing female leads who were often decades younger than him. Nonetheless, Grant kept forestalling his frequent vows to retire from acting. He had taken much more control over his career by forming his own production company and the result were some of the biggest hits of his career ("Operation Petticoat", "That Touch of Mink", "Charade"). Grant's primary motivation for not retiring was his desire- or rather, obsession- with winning an Oscar. Alfred Hitchcock had advised him that the best way to do so was to get away from playing the typical Cary Grant type on film and choose a role that was opposite from his usual image. Grant thought this was an inspired idea and agreed to star in a promising vehicle titled "Father Goose", which was written by Peter Stone, the screenwriter of Grant's megahit "Charade". The WWII era comedy would allow Grant to give a tour-de-force performance as Walter Eckland, an amiable, scrubby beach bum who intends to sit out the war in the South Pacific by lazing about getting drunk all day. His tropical paradise is threatened when he is dragooned into service as a coast watcher by his old crony Commander Frank Houghton (Trevor Howard) of the Australian Navy, who informs Walter that he is cutting off his supply of booze unless he makes frequent reports on Japanese ship movements. Each time he does so, Frank will reveal where another bottle of liquor has been hidden. Walter reluctantly concedes, not out of patriotism, but out of personal inability to last long without a drink. (The banter over the radio between Grant and Howard is priceless). Things get complicated, however, when Walter ends up having to rescue a group of young schoolgirls and their teacher, Catherine Freneau (Leslie Caron) after they have been shipwrecked on a nearby island. Most of the predictable fun comes from watching Grant's W.C. Fields-like persona having to cope with his young charges as well as their strict teacher, who forbids him from engaging in his generally deviant behavior. Grumpy and unshaven, Grant appears as he never had on film before and he gives one of the best performances of his career. He supposedly felt awkward in the inevitable love scenes with Caron, who was young enough to be his daughter, but the chemistry works on film. Grant's Walter is also a reluctant hero in the mode of Humphrey Bogart's Rick from "Casablanca". He's late to the challenge of doing his bit for the war effort, but he naturally comes through in the end. The film runs almost two hours but it's kept at a breezy pace by the talents of director Ralph Nelson and the jaunty score by Cy Coleman (including the memorable song "Pass Me By") adds immeasurably to the fun.
The Olive Films Blu-ray special edition has some impressive bonus extras. They include an audio commentary by ubiquitous film historian David DelValle. As someone who has recorded numerous audio commentaries, I always find they play out better when I invite other film scholars to join me. Oft times, a single commentator can delve into dull, professorial discussions. However, DelValle defies the odds and his solo track is thoroughly engaging and informative. DelValle did his homework and got access to Cary Grant's personal script from "Father Goose", which adds some insights into his mindset during filming. Additionally, he quotes liberally from Leslie Caron's memoirs about the making of the film, providing candid observations about Grant's unpredictable on-set mood swings. There is also an on-camera interview with Grant biographer Marc Elliott that is very interesting, though Elliott gets his facts wrong when he attributes Grant's late career traveling one-man stage shows as an inspiration for the Academy finally granting him an honorary Oscar. In fact, Grant's Oscar was presented to him in 1970, more than a decade before he initiated his stage appearances. Nevertheless, he provides some fascinating insights into Grant's personal life. There is also a filmed interview with Ted Nelson, son of director Ralph Nelson, who correctly points out how talented his father was- and indeed, how underrated Nelson's contributions to TV and movies of the era were. There is also a 1964 newsreel that includes the funeral of President Herbert Hoover followed by Leslie Caron receiving the "Star of the Year" award from American theater owners. Rounding out the package is a fine essay about "Father Goose" Village Voice writer Bilge Ebiri.
Cary Grant never got a competitive Oscar and indeed was never even nominated for "Father Goose", though Peter Stone won for his screenplay. Yet, he had the satisfaction of seeing the movie become a major hit. He would make only one more film- "Walk, Don't Run"- before going into retirement, leaving a legacy few other actors have equaled.
Olive Films used to take a lot of heat from retro movie lovers for putting out classic movies in bare-bones video editions. Looks like they got the memo because their recent releases feature highly impressive bonus features, as evidenced by this first rate edition of "Father Goose".
"Running on Empty" is one of Sidney Lumet's best films but the 1988 release remains one of his least-seen, despite winning enthusiastic reviews upon its release. Perhaps the offbeat storyline and lack of "boxoffice" names in starring roles prevented potentially appreciative audiences from seeing it. However, the good news is that the Warner Archive has made the title available on Blu-ray. Judd Hirsch and Christine Lahti play Arthur and Annie Pope, a married couple who, in the 1970s, were part of a radical leftist group akin to the Weathermen. They carried out a scheme to destroy a facility that was manufacturing Napalm but the bombing had an unintended consequence: a security guard ended up blinded and partially paralyzed. Now it's 1988 and the couple have been on the run ever since, the FBI having doggedly pursued them the entire time. The Pope's situation is complicated by the fact that they have two sons: Danny (River Phoenix) is a senior in high school and his brother Harry (Jonas Abry) is a precocious pre-teen. The family is constantly pulling up stakes and moving out on the spur of the moment if they suspect the feds are closing in on them. When we first meet them in the film, the family is on the run again. They sustain themselves by Arthur getting short-term jobs in each new location, as Annie stays home with the boys. They are aided and abetted by a clandestine secret network of left-wing sympathizers who provide them with seed money to help them manage a lower-middle class lifestyle. Still, the nerve-wracking nature of their existence is taking a toll on everyone, especially Danny, who is of an age where he wants and needs stability. When the family ends up renting an apartment in a New Jersey suburb on the outskirts of New York City, Danny finally finds a niche in the high school. His music teacher, Mr. Phillips (Ed Crowley) recognizes the boy's musical abilities and arranges for him to apply to Julliard for a scholarship, which he wins against all odds. This development causes a family crisis. Arthur maintains that in order to attend the school, the family will finally have to come up with positive proof of Danny's real identity- a revelation that would be sure to bring in the authorities and separate him from the family indefinitely. Annie argues that it's time to put Danny's life dream ahead of their own priorities and claims she can ask her wealthy, estranged father who she has not been in contact with for years, to allow Danny to live with him in Manhattan. Arthur, who has an authoritarian streak, insists that the family stay together. Complicating matters is that Danny has fallen hard for his first true love, a sassy classmate named Lorna Phillips (Martha Plimpton), the daughter of his music teacher. She lives a privileged life but is unhappy because she doesn't adhere to society's idea of conventional behavior. The two teens become emotionally dependent upon each other- but when Arthur learns the feds are closing in again, Danny confesses his real identity to Lorna in order to explain why he has to leave in order to keep his family together.
If all of the above sounds a bit soap-operaish, it doesn't play out that way. Under Lumet's steady and assured direction, and working from a terrific screenplay by Noami Forner, every cast member delivers a superlative performance, including those in supporting roles. (Kudos to the casting director, Todd Thaler, for rounding up such a talented group.) Hirsch is great as the sincere but flawed father who barely hides a dictatorial nature. Lahti is equally good as his committed, but long-suffering wife. The scene stealers are River Phoenix and Martha Plimpton, both of whom deliver superb performances. There is no action, no violence, only pure human emotion. After so many years on the run, fractures appear in the relationship between Annie and Arthur. She had always been content to allow him to dominate the family's actions but now she is daring to defy him. There are so many beautiful and touching scenes in "Running on Empty", but one of the best is a quiet one in which young Danny and Lorna express their love for each other. It's one of the most richly rewarding romantic scenes in any film. There is also a beautiful and touching scene in which Annie defies Arthur by secretly arranging to meet with her estranged dad (superbly played by Steven Hill in an abbreviated but pivotal role). Tensions mount until the highly emotional final scene.
"Running on Empty" provides no villains. The FBI men are shadowy figures but they are just doing their jobs and trying to enforce the law. Annie and Arthur are haunted by the fact that their act of violence claimed an innocent victim but their ideology prevented them from ever taking responsibility for their actions. They are still committed idealists who believe in taking down the Establishment, even if they no longer adhere to doing so through violent means. The film is not only thought-provoking but thoroughly entertaining. It's another outstanding achievement, albeit it a relatively unheralded one, from one of America's master film directors.
For many years Pierce Brosnan has taken control of his own legacy through his production company Irish DreamTime. He's had some mixed results but the bottom line is that he has remained a popular, consistently working leading man. Brosnan's hi-tech thriller "I.T." was released in 2016 with a limited theatrical run that apparently didn't generate any substantial business. The film has been released on Blu-ray where it has been largely savaged by reviewers. Having watched the film, I'll dare to go in the opposite direction and swim against the tide. I found the film to be thoroughly entertaining and very slickly made with rich production values that mask its relatively modest budget.
Brosnan is well-cast as Mike Regan, a mega-wealthy industrialist who is gambling everything he has on the launch of a bold new enterprise. Essentially, it's an Uber-like service that caters to rich executives who need air transportation on a minute's notice. Regan's company has a fleet of private jets ready to serve this limited clientele in return for sky high fees. When we first meet Regan, he's frantically overseeing his company's first official unveiling of the business plan. He still has to get approval from the Securities and Exchange Commission, but feels he has nothing to worry about in that regard. However, upon personally launching the hi-tech, expensive video presentation in front of business executives, the press and potential investors, a serious glitch threatens to spell catastrophe when the video malfunctions. Regan is spared disaster by the intervention of Ed Porter (James Frecheville), an innocuous temporary employee who Regan doesn't even know. Thanks to Ed's quick thinking, the video presentation resumes quickly and is deemed a success. A grateful Regan personally thanks Ed and rewards him with full-time employment. He also invites him to his modern mansion house with a freelance assignment to rewire the outdated wi-fi capabilities. When Ed arrives at the house, Regan introduces him to his wife Rose (Ann Friel) and his attractive teenage daughter Kaitlyn (Stefanie Scott), who is a high school student. Regan gives Ed the royal treatment and encourages him to stay for drinks. Ed, meanwhile, has an ulterior motive. Upon having seen Kaitlyn tanning herself poolside while clad in a bikini, he decides to wire the home in a very unique manner that no one will be aware of. By the time he's done, the Regans have the ultimate hi-tech wiring system- but don't suspect that Ed has secretly installed microscopic video cameras and microphones that allow him to monitor every movement and conversation, which he views at his loft on a wall-sized video screen. Unbeknownst to Regan, Ed had also made some "improvements" to his state-of-the-art sports car that will allow Ed to manipulate the controls and a video system installed on the dashboard. Regan soon discovers that his friendly overtures to Ed have blurred the line between in the employer/employee relationship. Soon, Ed is showing up uninvited at the family home. Of more concern to Mike and Rose is Ed's increasingly obvious interest in Kaitlyn, who seems smitten by the older man. When Ed crosses the line, Regan ends up firing him in a very belittling manner and thereby opening a Pandora's Box of troubles for himself, his wife and daughter.
Ed seeks immediate revenge and he has plenty of tools at his disposal. A master hacker, he forges documents that are leaked to the SEC, causing Regan's pending deal to fall under suspicion of being illegal and gumming up the approval process. He also releases provocative footage of Kaitlyn in the shower that was secretly shot with the hidden cameras. The result is her humiliation among her friends and schoolmates. Regan catches on that his entire world is in the hands of a mentally unstable former employee and he decides to fight back. After trying to physically intimidate Ed- a tactic that fails- he uses his own hi tech genius, the shadowy Henrik (wonderfully played by Michael Nyqvist), who constructs a plan to turn the tables on Ed by hacking the hacker and turning his own world into a nightmare. The result is a cat-and-mouse game between Regan and Ed that escalates to a violent final confrontation between the two antagonists.
Hemmings is “Alfred the Great” in the epic story of the legendary Saxon King.
The film opens as Alfred is about to take his vows as a priest when the Danes
invade to pillage and rape their way across England. Michael York is Guthrum,
the Viking leader of the invaders. After fierce battles, the Saxons and Danes form
a truce and Alfred agrees to Guthrum’s additional terms; swapping hostages.
Guthrum picks Alfred’s wife, Aelhswith (Prunella Ransome), as hostage and takes
her with him across the English Channel to Denmark.
Viking scenes are played for every last ounce of lusty Pagan Medieval violence
and gusto. A relaxing night out with Vikings is no stop at your local coffee
shop. Axe tossing games, knife fights and rape ensue in the great hall while
Guthrum cheers on the Viking good times. Aelhswith retreats to her room to be
with her baby and handmaid, but she’s followed by Guthrum who rapes, though
ultimately she willing accepts him as her lover.
back in England, Alfred continues his struggle to unify the warring Saxons
under his leadership. Alfred is literally wallowing in the mud, surviving along
with his closest associates as they find allies in thieves and other common
folks who are eager to join him against the local barons. They develop tactics
and after savage battles with the feuding kingdoms and form an alliance under
Alfred’s leadership just as an invading fleet of Danes is seen approaching
through the mist-covered river. Another
great battle between Saxons and Danes ensues and Alfred is reunited with his
wife and child. The movie is a serviceable epic, but it’s lacking in several
areas. For one thing, the casting is off. Michael York has far more charisma in
every scene than David Hemmings. The movie would have benefited if York had
played Alfred and Hemmings Guthrum. There’s very little in the way of chemistry
between Hemmings and Ransome and it was entirely predictable that Aelhswith would
become enthused about being Guthrum’s lover.
movie marked the second big screen
appearance, of Sir Ian McKellen who would gain fame in many roles including the
fantasy Tolkien Middle Earth series as Gandolph. The movie also features appearances by
other familiar and up-and-coming actors like Colin Blakely as Asher, Peter
Vaughan as Burrud, Julian Glover as AEthelstan (try and say that name fast
three times) and Vivien Merchant as Freda. For some reason Merchant does not
speak a single word in spite of her prominent role in the movie. According to
critic Pauline Kael, who was no fan of this film, Merchant may have refused to
say her lines because the dialog was unspeakable.
wanted to like the movie, but it isn’t one of those films you yearn to watch
more than once or twice in a lifetime. It has its moments, but lacks the
grandeur you might expect in a film about Alfred the Great. Why was Alfred so great? You’ll have to find
out on your own because you won’t know after watching this biopic.
the Great” was released by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer in summer of 1969 and shown in
some territories in an extravagant roadshow presentation with the 35mm format
blown up to 70mm. The Warner Archive DVD transfer is good and clocks in at 122
minutes with the trailer as the only extra. Recommended primarily for fans of
British historical epics.
Click here to order Cinema Retro's special edition tribute issue to "Where Eagles Dare".
BY LEE PFEIFFER
Writing in the Daily Mail, journalist Philip Norman recalls his visit to the Austrian set of "Where Eagles Dare" to interview Richard Burton. As a star-struck 24 year-old, he was given personal access to Burton and Elizabeth Taylor, who had accompanied her husband to the film set. All was going swimmingly until an ill-fated, late night social gathering took place in the hotel lobby where Burton and other cast members were still clad in the uniforms of German army officers. An unstable American fan approached Burton to tell him how much he admired him- but when he became intrusive, a war of words broke out and the man pulled a pistol on Burton, threatening his life. In true cinema style, the unflappable Burton dared the man to either use it or stick it up his arse! The tense scene was diffused by the unexpected appearance of Taylor, clad in her nightdress, who paraded into the lobby and seemed more disturbed about the noise from the argument than the man threatening her husband's life. Click here to read the remarkable and amusing tale.
The beginning of
Nicholas Ray’s The Savage Innocents—by
no means the most typical or best film from this iconoclastic director—touts
the ethnographic appeal of its Inuit focus. With debatable accuracy, the 1960
international coproduction illuminates, in somewhat superficial fashion, a “race
of nomads” called “The Men.” The narrator says we call them Eskimos,
individuals who live a life of ostensible simplicity “in the age of the atom
bomb.” For a good portion of the movie, this is the basic premise, in terms of
theme and (loose) narrative. It is a fictional, cursory study of a small and select
segment of this Arctic population. On the outside looking in, there is a fundamental
crudity in their behavior, their stilted English dialogue, their purity and
naiveté, and the animalistic manners and utterances of main character Inuk
(Anthony Quinn). But try as it might to make this all academically engaging or
exotically entertaining (the narrator’s classroom recitation only hampers the enthusiasm),
Ray’s film—and it scarcely seems like a Nicholas Ray film—is generally burdened
by a stale, shallow depiction of the region’s inhabitants as they carry on
their day-to-day existence
Based on Hans
Rüesch’s 1950 novel “Top of the World,” with the adaptation credited to Rüesch,
Franco Solinas, and Baccio Bandini and the screenplay credit to Ray, this
episodic film inserts transitory snippets of Inuit life into a rough indigenous
portrait, with most early scenes revolving around Inuk as he seeks someone he
can “laugh” with (an ethnic euphemism for intercourse). In this sexist,
patriarchal society, submissive brides are bartered for like the coat of
freshly slaughtered seal, and once obtained, they are met with particular expectations
and responsibilities. Eventually, Inuk settles on Asiak, played by the Japanese
actress Yôko Tani (apparently one non-Caucasian ethnicity is as good as the
next). However truthful this representation may be, the decidedly inequitable
nature of the courtship makes for obnoxious viewing, especially given the
foolhardy nature of Inuk’s marital quest. Forgiving the mannered discourse of
he and the other characters, what keeps this principal portion of The Savage Innocents watchable is Quinn
and his full-bodied, committed performance. Already a three-time Oscar nominee,
and winner twice, his is a wildly animated, energetic exhibition, like a crude
hybrid of caveman and one of the beasts that roam this frozen terrain (and
supposedly, his performance served as the inspirational impetus for Bob Dylan’s
1967 song “Quinn the Eskimo (The Mighty Quinn”)).
In addition to the
relationship wrangling, The Savage
Innocents touches upon the natural perils of its hostile environment and
provides a glimpse at the population’s traditions and toils, from hunting
tactics to the structural design of domesticated igloos. As the men revel in
boorish roughhousing and hearty laughter (real laughter, that is, which grows
so forceful it’s rather off-putting), the film essentially unfolds in a series
of incidents with no clear objective. Where the picture picks up is when this intermittent
cultural sketch shifts to a genuinely suspenseful scenario. Into the world of
the White man, Inuk and his kind reveal their gullibility, first seen in
dangerous firearm fascination and later, more comically if still cruelly, when
they are exposed to alcohol and pop music (including a song about an iceberg,
of course). Via the local missionary (Marco Guglielmi), Inuk is also introduced
to Christianity. “The Lord be with you,” says the priest upon greeting Inuk and
Asiak. No, it’s just them, answers Inuk in a literal interpretation of the
apparent question. Unfortunately, a further misunderstanding results in Inuk
accidentally murdering the priest (“His head was too soft”) and subsequently
getting arrested (one of the local troopers is played by a pre-Lawrence Peter O’Toole, who for some
reason had his voice dubbed by an uncredited American actor).
In an amusing article for The Washington Post writer Emily Yahr looks back on the legacy of "My Heart Will Go On", the Oscar-winning theme song from James Cameron's "Titanic" twenty years after its premiere. It's become in-vogue to express one's hatred for the song even though, as Yahr points out, the track was acclaimed when it debuted and became a massive sales phenomenon, thanks to Celine Dion's vocal skills. As with any cultural phenomenon, "Titanic"- which also won the Best Picture Oscar- has been virtually disowned by film scholars as being too corny, predictable and obvious in its attempts to pull the heartstrings. Yet, I suspect that at least some of these critics secretly still get considerable enjoyment out of the film, if not for its emotional elements, than at least for its still impressive technical aspects including Peter Lamont's brilliant production design (which also was recognized with an Oscar). In a way this may be a Hollywood version of what could be termed "The Trump Effect"- many people are too embarrassed to express their support for the film publicly but behind closed doors they fawn over it. Doubtless, there will inevitably be a backlash to the backlash and the movie and the title song will be re-evaluated favorably if only because it will become too bland and boring to be among those who knock it. I have not seen "Titanic" since 1997, which seems to indicate that my enthusiasm for the movie is somewhat diluted (I've watched Don Knotts' "The Ghost and Mr. Chicken" several times over this period of time.) Yet I don't bare the film any ill will, as I remember enjoying it quite a bit. Similarly, my only gripe with "My Heart Will Go On" is that it was played so incessantly at the time of its release that there was seemingly no escape from its grip. I recall a birthday party for my daughter at which a group of ten or eleven-year-old girls were singing it passionately with misty eyes. Can you truly hate a song like that? Apparently so, according to the Washington Post article, which quotes the film's female lead, Kate Winslet as saying the track makes her want to throw up. Ouch!
If I were to sum up my view
of “The Thin Red Line” in one phrase, it would be; “Stream of Consciousness Filmmaking.”
I don’t think I’m alone in my reaction to director Terrence Malick’s 1998 take
on the Battle of Guadalcanal, one of the bloodiest conflicts in the Pacific
front during WWII. The narrative follows Private Witt (Jim Caviezel), who has
gone AWOL with Private Hoke (Will Wallace) and is living among the native
people on one of the Solomon Islands. The men are shown living peacefully among
these people who have welcomed and accepted them. They are soon repatriated
after an American troop carrier cruises to the island, presumably looking for
them. Witt faces his First Sergeant Edward Welsh (Sean Penn), who assigns him
to a disciplinary unit as a stretcher bearer in lieu of a courts martial.
The movie narrative flows
like a summer breeze through tall grass on a sunny day. Calm scenes of the men crawling
and hunkering down at the base of a grassy hill as they attempt to take out a
Japanese machine gun emplacement are interrupted by the chaos of bullets buzzing
like bees as men are killed and wounded in an attempt to take the high ground
and kill the Japanese. Capt. James “Bugger” Staros (Elias Koteas) is ordered by
Lt. Col. Gordon Tall (Nick Nolte) to take the hill, but after heavy losses he
refuses to send any more of his men. Tall is relentless screaming in his orders
to Staros via radio until he replaces him with Capt. John Gaff (John Cusak) who
eventually takes the hill with the help of Hoke and Welsh.
Long passages of silence
interspersed with scenes of beauty and ugliness are juxtaposed with scenes of men
crying out in fear, pain and death. Scenes flash back to Witt with his mother
and girlfriend before he departs for service in the Army, then switch to the
thoughts of men contemplating the battle before them and the actions of others
in their chain of command. The thoughts of these men at war range from the
longing for peace and the necessity to sacrifice to what actions will result in
promotions and medals. Witt represents the longing for home and the need to
return to a life before the horrors of war.
It’s hard to tell exactly whose
story is being told as the story's arch switches from character to character.
We hear their thoughts and see the movie’s action through their eyes and facial
expressions, often in close-up, switching to long moments with no dialog and
scenes depicting the natural sounds and surroundings on the island. In some
ways this is the story of the island itself with the ugliness of a crocodile
emerging from the green algae covered pond as the soldiers cross into enemy
territory juxtaposed with beautiful scenes of flowing river water on the eve of
a destructive battle. Most of the narrative is that of Witt, the thoughtful
soldier and Tall, the glory seeking commander, but it’s not that clear cut as
the narrative style is alternately complex or simple depending on ones point of view. The
movie is not for everyone, especially those who prefer a solid and traditional
narrative structure. It’s filled with a cast of recognizable actors, most in
supporting roles, carefully cross-stitched into the narrative structure.
One of my favorite scenes in
the film (it’s hard to pick one) is a light scene at the end of the movie when
Capt. Charles Bosche (George Clooney) arrives to take command of the men after
they take the hill. He describes his role as the father and the First Sergeant
Welsh (Penn) as the mother, much to the chagrin of Welsh. It’s a funny moment
which helps to ease us to the end of the movie’s narrative structure. They are
the thin red line between the battlefield and civilization and the metaphor of
the family structure is as true for those serving in the military as it is at
The movie was released in
1998 and was the first film directed by Terrence Malick since “Days of Heaven”
in 1978. Both movies have a similar narrative structure, but “The Thin Red
Line” creates something far more complex in what is arguably a far superior
film to “Days of Heaven.” Other directors have had long gaps between the
release of their films, most notably Stanley Kubrick, David Lean and Sergio
Leone. Like those directors, Malick would spend lengthy periods preparing and
editing his movies.
The movie was released by
20th Century Fox in late December of 1998 and released on DVD the following
year. The DVD is bare bones except for a selection of songs by the Melanesian
people depicted in the movie. The picture quality is outstanding in a beautiful
2.35:1 widescreen aspect ratio and the movie clocks in at 170 minutes. For
those seeking to delve more deeply into this movie, I would recommend the
Director Approved Criterion Collection Blu-ray released in 2010 which includes
an audio commentary, outtakes (the movie was edited down from four hours), documentaries,
the trailer and a booklet essay. Either version is recommended depending on the
viewer’s interest in this movie.
Though often dismissed as a low-budget “Made for TV”
feature, director Franklin Adreon’s Cyborg
2087 enjoyed a brief theatrical run prior to its debut on broadcast television
in March of 1968. In April of 1967 the
film was packaged alongside such similarly low-budgeted, independent features
as Death Curse of Tartu, Sting of Death, and even a second Adreon
“time travel” themed film, Dimension 5.
Though this somewhat lackluster film seemed
destined for relegation to the late-night drive-in horror movie circuit, Cyborg 2087 nonetheless displayed some
small measure of staying power. That
same summer, Adreon’s film was still making the rounds of the secondary flea-pit
theater circuit, sometimes serving as the under bill to Sidney J. Furie’s contemporary
political thriller The Naked Runner
featuring Frank Sinatra.
Though he had worked on serials and a handful of feature
films in the early stages of his career, director Adreon was laboring almost
exclusively in television by the mid-1950s. Cyborg 2087 does appear as
something cobbled together both inexpensively and hastily for the small
screen. The initial tipoff is the film’s
lackluster and visually non-appealing set designs. Cyborg
2087 is a film visually hobbled by poor production values due to the
paucity of budget. The futuristic
control room seen briefly at the film’s beginning is non-imaginatively designed
and unusually threadbare, missing nearly all of the electronic baubles and
flashing accoutrements one might expect. The film’s optical effects are practically non-existent and the
occasional appearance and disappearance of Garth 7’s Star Base 7 space-time traveling capsule are not impressive at
all. In fact they’re less innovative than
those of the camera tricks employed by cinema pioneer Georges Méliès in 1902.
For a science-fiction film, a good portion of the movie’s
daylight scenes are shot incongruously on an obvious “Old West” Hollywood
set. Director Adreon was either pressed
for time or simply didn’t have the skill to compose shots that made the best
use of the ghost town’s obvious clapboard facades. The fact that the buildings lining the
streets of Desert City are little more than mock-ups are made apparent by the sight
of mountain range vistas peeking out directly from the windows. Cinematographer Alan Stensvold’s photography
is curiously flat throughout, and he has the bad habit of illuminating the
film’s nighttime scenes with a giant, hot-white spotlight. This slapdash method of lighting blows out any
mystery the darkness might portend and casts heavy, non-impressionistic shadows
in every direction. The too-talkative screenplay
of Arthur C. Pierce, his resume of low-budget sci-fi melodramas already duly
established, does attempt to dish out a few thoughtful and interesting ideas,
but they’re never imaginatively mounted. This is a science-fiction title offering little in the way of suspense or
Though the script is admittedly not Shakespearean in its
construction, it still might have worked if the performances of the assembled troupe
of actors didn’t range from merely adequate to painfully woeful. Though Michael Rennie’s character, Garth 7,
appears stiff and non-emotive throughout, I’m willing to give him a pass… he’s
a Cyborg, after all, a non-human “Cybernetic Organism.” With his silver space boots, matching pistol
belt, but otherwise bland service mechanic’s overalls, the lanky Garth 7 cuts a
particularly un-dashing figure, save for an impressive brush of silver hair atop
his cranium. While he does carry a
semi-cool ray gun in his holster, the pistol he’s saddled with can only temporarily
paralyze targets, not kill them. If
nothing else, this is good news for the nostalgic whiskey drinkers and their
attendant German shepherd who re-visit the ruins of the derelict “Lucky Dollar
Casino and Dance Hall” of Desert City. Conversely,
Garth 7’s futuristic pistol is a useless weapon against the very folks he needs
most disarm: a pair of Cyborg “Tracers” who have followed him from 2087 on a
mission to eradicate him.
It’s here where we get to the crux of it. Garth 7 has time-traveled from the year 2087
back to April 1966 in an effort to get the professorial Dr. Sigmund Marx (Eduard
Franz) and his assistant Sharon Mason (Karen Steele) to abandon their
groundbreaking and militarily useful research in the field of radio
telepathy. If only Garth 7 can convince Dr.
Marx to do this, the impending totalitarian society of 2087 that will arise
from the invention’s misuse can be averted. Garth 7 grimly warns - with the foresight time travel has allowed him - that
the “Warlords of tomorrow will use radio telepathy for evil purposes.” He assures that the domestic political
situation is pretty bad in 2017… Um, I mean 2087, as the military has
effectively misused radio telepathy to control the thoughts of the populace. Independent “free-thinkers” are punished and even
children are cruelly snatched from the arms of their mothers and made instant wards
of the State.
It’s hard to decide if David O. Selznick’s “Duel in the
Sun” is a work of twisted genius, or just the worst, corniest, unconsciously
hilarious movie ever made. It hovers in a weird place somewhere between a
Eugene O’Neill tragedy and a sketch that Carol Burnett might have come up with
on her old TV show. Remember when she lampooned Gone with the Wind? She came
down the staircase in a gown made from the curtains that used to hang on the
window, complete with curtain rod draped across her shoulders? There are scenes
in “Duel in the Sun” that are unintentionally almost as funny as that.
Based on a Niven Bush potboiler and directed by King
Vidor (along with several others), the film tells the tale of half-breed femme
fatale Pearl Chavez, a woman whose passion and hopes for a better life are
doomed by her heritage and a script straight out of a soap opera. Selznick cast
Jennifer Jones, who was his paramour at the time, as Pearl, hoping to duplicate
with her the success he had with Vivian Leigh as Scarlett O’Hara in “Gone with
the Wind.” Jones gives it everything she’s got, in a performance that is
fascinating, even entrancing at times, but occasionally so over the top that,
occasionally, you can’t help snickering.
The story begins with a sequence that was actually directed
by William Dieterle after the production was finished. Selznick felt that some
explanation of Pearl’s provocative sex-pot behavior was needed in order to make
her a more sympathetic character. Vidor refused to return to return to direct
the additional scenes after already having been through numerous reshoots
during production. Herbert Marshall was added to the cast to play Pearl’s
father, a refined, educated man caught in a humiliating marriage to a wild Native
American woman. Pearl witnesses her father’s murder of her mother when he
catches her with another man. Before he is hanged, he arranges for Pearl to go
live with Laura Belle McCanles (Lilian Gish), a refined woman he once loved and
who is now married to Sen. Jackson McCanles (Lionel Barrymore), owner of Spanish
Bit, one of the biggest ranches in Texas.
When she arrives, Pearl discovers the McCanleses have two
sons, one good and the other a downright dirty dog. I guess you could say if the
McCanles ranch were the Garden of Eden, Laura Belle and Jackson would be Adam and
Eve, and Lewt (Gregory Peck) and Jesse (Joseph Cotten) would be Cain and Abel.
But what does that make Pearl? Joseph Cotten is well cast as the honest,
upright, dutiful Jesse. He’s been to college and is a lawyer. He likes Pearl
quite a bit. And she seems to like him until she lays eyes on the tall
handsome, cold hearted Lewt. Why Gregory Peck was chosen to play Lewt will
remain a mystery for all time. He is totally out of his element as the senator’s
favorite son. He’s called on to treat Pearl like dirt. He slaps her around,
forces her to swim all day in a pond without any clothes on until it gets dark,
and finally forces himself on her. Sorry. I just don’t see Atticus Finch doing
something like that, but I guess everybody has a dark side.
There’s a big plot element that comes into the story
about a third of the way through. The railroad wants a right of way through
Sen. Jackson’s land, and, dang it, he ain’t about to give up one inch of
Spanish Bit. There’s a showdown with the rail workers, and when Jesse refuses
to order McCanles men to fire on them, the senator calls him a traitor and
orders him off the ranch. So that leaves Pearl alone with Lewt, and try as she
might to be the respectable young woman her father wanted her to be—a woman like
Laura Belle—she can’t help being obsessively attracted to Lewt. He messes
around with her, but when she tries to get him to marry her, he won’t, because
his father is an Indian-hating racist and would disown him if he did.
Well, there’s a lot of agonizing and squirming around as
Jennifer Jones climbs all over the scenery. Even Gish and Barrymore reach
various levels of melodramatic absurdity. In one scene the old blowhard senator
goes into a long monologue about the night he almost lost her to Pearl’s father
and how he rode all night to get back to her. Meanwhile, she’s lying in bed
listening, sick with some fatal disease. Moved by his sudden emotional outburst,
she sits up and reaches out to him. The senator keeps rambling on as only a
Barrymore can, oblivious to her condition, until finally Laura Bell falls out of bed flat on her face on the floor. Can’t you just see Tim Conway
and Vicki Lawrence doing that scene on The Carol Burnett Show?
From all of this you might think this is a movie to be
avoided. But that’s not actually the case. Despite its being referred to in the
annals of movie history as “Lust in the Dust,” there are some rare moments of
insane brilliance. The movie ends with one of the most talked about scenes in
movies. Pearl and Lewt, dying of their twisted love for each other at the foot
of Squaw Head Rock, is unconventional and almost beyond anything you could say
about it. Martin Scorsese says “Duel in the Sun” was the first movie he ever
saw and you can see the obvious influence it had on one of today’s most
Kino Lorber’s KL Studio Classics Blu-ray release includes
the roadshow version of the film with Dimitri Tiomkin’s prelude, overture and
exit music. There are other extras, including audio commentary by film
historian Gaylyn Studlar, interviews with Celia, Carey and Anthony Peck, as
well as a trailer gallery. It’s quite a package and quite a film.
The German video company Explosive Media has released a number of impressive western titles, among them: "Night Passage", a top-notch 1957 western showcasing James Stewart and a terrific supporting cast. The film was to be yet another collaboration between Stewart and director Anthony Mann but things fell apart when Audie Murphy was cast as Stewart's brother. Mann objected, saying he found their physical differences too unbelievable for that concept and felt the film would be undermined by the casting. Mann dropped out and television director James Neilson took over the troubled production. Neilson was able to exploit the wonders of Technirama, a short-lived widescreen process that was competing with CinemaScope in an attempt to lure increasingly prosperous Americans away from their new television sets and get them back into movie theaters. The screenplay was by the estimable Borden Chase. adapting a story from The Saturday Evening Post, as he had done for Howard Hawks' 1948 masterwork "Red River".
In "Night Passage", James Stewart plays Grant McLaine, a middle-aged drifter and cowpoke who had once been hired by the railroad to thwart a string of robberies committed by the Utica Kid (Audey Murphy), who is later revealed to be McLaine's kid brother. Seems that the railroad boss Ben Kimball (J.C. Flippen) became steamed when McLaine allowed the Utica Kid to escape on one occasion, though he did not know the two men were brothers. Kimball was convinced that McLaine and the Kid were in cahoots and fired McLaine. Now a new series of payroll robberies is occurring on the transport train with dismaying regularity. Kimball rehires McLaine, though he still harbors suspicions about him being in collusion with the Utica Kid and his gang. In fact, the Kid is indeed with a new gang, but this time it's run by Whitey Harbin (Dan Duryea), a cold blooded thief and killer who is plotting another robbery of a payroll shipment. McLaine ensures he is aboard the train, but he has secreted the payroll money on himself. When the gang boards the train after devising a way to waylay the security guards, they find no money in the safe- so they take Kimball's wife Verna (Elaine Stewart) hostage until they are paid the $10,000 in payroll funds. Meanwhile, McLaine finds himself caring for a precious pre-teen orphan boy, Joey Adams (Brandon DeWilde), who helped him hide the payroll money when the crooks boarded the train. The rest of the film follows McLaine as he tracks the gang to their hideout and has a rather tense reunion with his brother, who ignores his pleas to quit his career in crime. The entire affair ends with an exciting shootout at an abandoned mine camp that pits the two brothers on opposite sides.
"Night Passage" wasn't well-received by either critics or audiences back in the day, but watching the film now, it's pleasures become obvious. Stewart is in fine form and gets excellent support from the aforementioned co-stars. The film is peppered with many familiar faces including Jack Elam, Paul Fix and Ellen Corby. Dianne Foster is a beautiful tom boy who has a crush on the Utica Kid. Of interest to retro T.V. fans are the appearances of two future legendary sitcom dads, Herbert Anderson ("Dennis the Menace") and Hugh Beaumont ("Leave It to Beaver") in dramatic roles. As for Anthony Mann's concerns about the casting of Audie Murphy, it works well enough. The two iconic actors share some genuine chemistry and their age difference is far less preposterous that that of 48 year-old John Wayne playing the older brother to 22 year-old Michael Anderson Jr. in another fine Western, "The Sons of Katie Elder". It should be said that the film's most riveting performance is by Dan Duryea, playing against type as a loud, crude and brutal bad guy. He steals every scene he is in. Dimitri Tiomkin provides one of his typically rousing scores and the cinematography by William Daniels captures the grandeur of the California and Colorado locations.
One of the lobby cards featured in the photo gallery section.
The Explosive Media presentation is superb. The transfer is flawless and stunning in its beauty. As usual, the company has provided some interesting extras in addition to the trailer. They include extensive galleries of production photos and international film posters, pressbooks and lobby cards. The Blu-ray release includes tracks for both English and German language presentations. It's a pity the Explosive titles, which are all region-free, are not available outside of Germany (primarily through Amazon Deutschland) , however, they sometimes appear on eBay in other countries. This is an excellent presentation of a very underrated film.
Cinema Retro has received the following press release:
TOM WOODRUFF, JR. & ALEC GILLIS OF studioADI
THE studioADI COLLECTION
WITH 20TH CENTURY FOX CONSUMER PRODUCTS
THE HIGH-QUALITY FINE ART PIECES
WILL INCLUDE ALIEN³ AND ALIEN: RESURRECTION
HAND-CRAFTED WORKS OF ART
CREATED BY THE SAME ARTISTS AT THE SAME STUDIO WHO MADE
THE CREATURES FOR THE FILMS
The studioADI Collection Will Initially Consist of Seven Unique
The Queen Alien Embryo from Alien³, The 1/3 Scale Queen
Alien Head and
The Newborn Alien Full Body Design Maquette from Alien:
Los Angeles, CA (November 20, 2017) For 30 years, Los
Angeles based Amalgamated Dynamics, Inc. (studioADI) has been the premier
Creature Effects studio in the motion picture business. studioADI was
co-founded by the Academy Award winning duo of Alec Gillis and Tom Woodruff,
Jr. in 1988. The team has been
responsible for 3 decades of iconic Creature Characters from the Alien and Predator
franchises to the recent smash hit horror film IT. Today Woodruff and Gillis announced The studioADI
Collection, art inspired by their iconic creations from Alien³ and Alien:
The studioADI Collection consists of high quality fine
art pieces which are not mere collectibles replicated by factory workers. These
are hand-crafted works of art created by the same studio and artists who
originally created them for the films, from the actual molds used in the
production of the history-making films Alien³ and Alien:
“This is the collection designed for fans of these
entries into the Alien franchise as well as aficionados of the art of creatures
and monsters of iconic pedigree,” said Woodruff.
“The studioADI collection is our tribute to the films
that have been an important part of our legacy as artists. Each piece of art
reflects the same detail and passion we poured into the characters when we created
the original Alien films,” said Gillis.
Full descriptions and dimensions of all the art will be
available December 1. Some pieces will
be available as exclusive limited editions. The pieces will be priced from $250.00 -
Below are descriptions of two items:
“The Newborn” from Alien: Resurrection was the
terrifying mix of human and Alien DNA gone wrong. This Full-Scale Bust is cast
from hand-laid translucent polyester resin from ADI's original production molds
and is painted to the same exacting specifications by ADI's painter who painted
the character for the original film. The piece measures
“The Queen Alien Embryo” was seen in David Fincher's Alien³
was nestled next to the beating heart of Ripley, played by Sigourney Weaver.
Cast in translucent urethane and hand painted by the same ADI artists who
created the piece for the film in 1991.
At 7" x 9" this piece of art is perfect for
The studioADI Collection launch on December 1, 2017 will
include the following art pieces, which are all hand-crafted and individually
made to order:
Alien Study Model from Alien: Resurrection
Alien Warrior Half Head from Alien: Resurrection
Newborn Alien Head from Alien: Resurrection
Scale Queen Alien Head from Alien: Resurrection
will celebrate their 30th Anniversary in 2018, and the launch of The studioADI
Collection is the first of many exciting announcements Gillis and Woodruff have
planned in conjunction with this historic milestone! Always in-demand, they move into their 30th
year riding high on the huge success of IT and their creature makeup creation
for Pennywise, an instant iconic Movie Monster. Upcoming projects include Bright, Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom, The
Predator, and Godzilla: King of Monsters.
are Academy Award winning creators of special characters and character effects.
Calling upon a diverse range of talents and techniques, we create prosthetic
make-ups, animatronic puppets, actor duplicates and replica animals. With over
twenty-five years of professional experience, we bring "real"
character effects to the set to interact with actors, lighting, and practical
atmosphere. We pride ourselves on working with the industry's leading cgi
companies to find the right balance of digital and practical effects. We
continue to provide film-makers with realistic and economical character effects
that best serve the story and the production.
20th Century Fox Consumer Products
20th Century Fox Consumer Products licenses and markets
properties worldwide on behalf of 20th Century Fox Film, 20th Century Fox
Television and FX Networks, as well as third party lines. The division is
aligned with 20th Century Fox Television, the flagship studio leading the
industry in supplying award-winning and blockbuster primetime television
programming and entertainment content and 20th Century Fox Film, one of the
world’s largest producers and distributors of motion pictures.