this author has seen many Italian Westerns, for years I had avoided watching Navajo Joe because I had wrongly assumed
it was an American Western due to its star: Burt Reynolds. Happily, I
discovered that Navajo Joe is a
solidly entertaining film. Reynolds stars as the title character, out for
revenge after a gang of cutthroats massacres his tribe and scalps his wife. The
rest of the film shows Reynolds hunting down the bandits and killing them one
by one. Naturally, as this is a Spaghetti Western, Joe has a few anti-hero
traits. When the same outlaw gang begins terrorizing the town of Esperanza, Joe
dupes the townspeople into paying him to kill the gang, thus managing to profit
from an act he was intending to carry out anyway (hence the film’s Italian
title A Dollar a Head). Though a
solid film produced by Dino de Laurentiis, directed by Sergio Corbucci (Django) and scored by Ennio Morricone,
Burt Reynolds often puts the movie down, stating that it could only be shown in
prisons and on airplanes to truly captive audiences that couldn’t escape. Supposedly
the bad blood began when Reynolds misunderstood that he was to be working with
Sergio Leone rather than Sergio Corbucci, and vice versa Corbucci initially hoped
to cast Marlon Brando. Due to the mutual disappointment the director and his
star didn’t get along terribly well. The film was shot between two of
Corbucci’s other westerns, Johnny Oro
(1966) and Hellbenders (1967). The
camera work and direction for the action scenes are top notch and Reynolds
himself was said to have done his own stunts, in addition to overseeing the stunt
work on the entire film. Ennio Morricone (under the alias of Leo Nichols)
composes another good score, with the main theme being the most memorable.
picture quality on the Blu-ray, though not flawless, is good overall. Included
in the special features is a commentary track by the Kino Lorber Senior Vice
President of Theatrical Releasing, Gary Palmucci. In addition to the usual cast
and crew backgrounds, Palmucci also offers up some interesting insights into
running a company such as Kino Lorber and how they acquire their various
titles. The Blu-ray also comes with a trailer for Navajo Joe and other Reynolds’ MGM/UA action films White Lightning, Gator and Malone.
Anyone who enjoyed the family friendly spectral
shenanigans of The Amazing Mr Blunden should
find much to enjoy in mid-70s Brit TV series Nobody's House, out now on DVD in the UK from Network. Written by Michael
Hall and Derrick Sherwin, and lensed by stalwart TV director Michael Ferguson,
it was a self-contained tale spanning 7 episodes – with an open ending for a
second series that never happened. And, as with many such shows, in a slightly pared-down
format it would have made for a very workable movie.
The story revolves around
the Sinclair family – Dad (William Gaunt), Mum (Wendy Gifford) and children (Stuart
Wilde and Mandy Woodward) – who move into Cornerstones, a fixer-upper residence
that a century earlier functioned as a workhouse for orphaned children. One of
them, a nameless young boy (Kevin Moreton) died of the plague and his ghost continues
to haunt the premises. The Sinclair children befriend him and name him Nobody.
The youngsters may be the
focus of the series, but one of the major draws here for viewers of a certain
age will be the eminently watchable William Gaunt, best remembered perhaps as
one of the telepathic trio in ITC’s 60s supernatural-tinged tele-actioner The Champions. Although, in this
writer’s opinion, he never really got the break he deserved, Gaunt continued to
work steadily across the decades, recently showing up in impressive inde
western The Timber. There are also
guest appearances throughout the series – some as less than affable ghosts – from
Flash Gordon’s Brian Blessed, Legend’s Annabelle Lanyon and Captain Kronos: Vampire Hunter’s John Cater
(married to lead Wendy Gifford), as well as TV reliables Brian Wilde and Joe
Although the flavour is
there, Nobody’s House admittedly doesn't
share the emotional heft of the aforementioned Blunden – indeed, it's played more for light comedy – and it
probably won't entice many folks unfamiliar with it. But those who recall it (and
its infectious Anthony Isaac theme music) fondly from the original run between
September and November 1976 won't be able to resist wallowing in the memories
and perhaps even introducing it to the younger members of their own families.
The image and sound
quality on Network’s DVD is about what you'd expect from a mid-70s TV show:
acceptable, nothing more. Technically the only bonus feature is a short (but still
worthwhile) gallery of production photos, but pleasingly several of the
episodes are tail-ended by original previews for the following week’s story,
and all of them open with the nostalgia-tweaking Tyne Tees television ident and
finish with a plug for the tie-in novel penned by series co-scripter Michael
Hall (which this writer recalls as vividly as the TV show itself).
Between the early 1950s and mid 1980s the Children's Film
Foundation was a non-profit making establishment behind dozens of films aimed
at a young audience, most of them screening as programme constituents at
Saturday morning 'Picture Shows'. I didn't catch many of these during my own
childhood. But I do recall a couple of particularly enjoyable ones that I did get to see in the early 1970s: Cry Wolf (1969) and All at Sea (1970), both of which are conspicuously absent from the
half dozen or so collections issued on DVD to date. Many of the CFF’s films had
a run-time of around an hour, although there were also a number of serials in
their catalogue. Masters of Venus was
one such production. Comprising eight 15-minute instalments, it arrives on DVD
in the UK in a restored release from BFI.
On the day prior to mankind's first mission to Venus, chief
scientist Dr Ballantyne (No Road Back's
Norman Wooland) is being assisted with last minute preparations on the
rocketship Astarte by his two intellectual children, Jim (Robin Stewart) and
Pat (Amanda Coxell). When the base is infiltrated by a pair of sinister,
ray-gun-toting saboteurs the siblings' only route of escape is the Astarte; it blasts
off and catapults them, along with two technicians, into space. When it
transpires the Chinese are on the verge of launching their own exploratory rocket
ship, rather than guide his children home Ballantyne asks that they continue to
Venus in order to secure Great Britain's place in history. Upon their arrival the
team are made welcome by the planet’s inhabitants, but it soon becomes apparent
that a plan to invade the Earth is underway.
Shot on sets at Pinewood Studios, this sub-Flash Gordon-esque serial was directed by Ernest Morris (as prolific
a second unit director as he was an occupant of the centre seat) from an
endearingly dumbed down Michael Barnes screenplay: "They'll be on the trip
for several weeks, you know," remarks Ballantyne casually (Weeks?! More
It takes a while to get to Venus – it's episode 4 before our heroes
arrive – but curiously enough at this point, where the fun factor ought to
escalate, things become less interesting and the plot meanders through a clichéd
few episodes of political insurrection whilst the humans collaborate with
friendly Venusians to bring down the rebel faction.
Where most of the adult characters in CFF films are inept – or at
best ineffectual to the point of comical – the very purposeof these movies was to allow the kids to shine. Both youngsters here
are likeable enough and outsmart their elders regularly. Amanda Coxell (the nom de guerre adopted by Mandy Harper)
had worked regularly as a child actor but as she got a little older her career
wound down (Masters of Venus was in
fact one of her last pieces of work). Robin Stewart on the other hand made that
tricky transition from child to adult actor very successfully, carving out a
career that found him lead roles in such films as The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires for Hammer and The Haunted House of Horror, as well as
a lead role as Sid James' son in a 65-episode run of TV sitcom Bless This House. There’s worthy support
from The Revenge of Frankenstein's
Arnold Diamond, From Russia With Love's
George Pastell, Where Eagles Dare's
Ferdy Mayne and Zienia Merton (who later became a regular face on TV’s Space: 1999). The effects of pretty
respectable given the shoestring budget – the Astarte itself is a nicely Gerry
Anderson-esque hunk of space hardware – while Eric Rogers (best known for his
whimsical scores on a couple of dozen Carry
On entries) supplies suitably dramatic musical accompaniment to the action.
With a total running time of just over two hours, if you were to
lose the “Our story so far…” and “See next week’s exciting episode to find out…”
bookends and a little of the loquacious padding you're probably looking at a decent
90-minute adventure. In any event, it is what it is and Masters of Venus will certainly find an appreciative audience among
those who remember it from their halcyon childhood days (which, to be fair, is
a statement applicable nowadays to all the CFF's output).
The BFI’s DVD presents the 8-part black-and-white serial in
its original 1.66:1 ratio. Transferred from the best extant elements held
at the BFI National Archive, there are occasionally patches of detritus
accumulation in evidence and a couple of episodes bear some
light vertical scratching, but overall picture quality is fine given
the age of the material. The PCM 2.0 mono sound labours under varying
degrees of crackle but seldom is it too intrusive. There are no additional
Cinema Retro has received the following press release:
SANTA MONICA, CA (June 13, 2016) – A powerful reimagining of the essential American story,
HISTORY’s Roots arrives on Blu-ray (plus Digital HD) and DVD (plus Digital) August 23
from Lionsgate. Debuting on Memorial Day,
the premiere episode of Roots was watched by 14.4 million
total linear viewers over the course of all premiere week telecasts. Based on
the Alex Haley novel and inspired by the wildly successful 1977 series about
one family’s struggle to resist the institution of American slavery, Rootsis the can’t-miss television event of the year.
“Nearly 40 years ago I had the privilege to be a part of an epic
television event that started an important conversation in America,” said LeVar
Burton, Co-Executive Producer and the original Kunta Kinte. “I am incredibly
proud to be a part of this new retelling and start the dialogue again, at a
time when it is needed more than ever."
The 4-part miniseries is brought to life by an all-star cast including Forest
Whitaker (The Last King of Scotland),
Anna Paquin (TV’s “True Blood”), Laurence Fishburne (The Matrix), Jonathan Rhys Meyers (TV’s “The Tudors”), Mekhi Phifer
(The Divergent Series), Tip “T.I.”
Harris (Ant-Man), Matthew Goode (TV’s
“Downton Abbey”), alongside breakouts Regé-Jean Page and Malachi Kirby.
The classic American saga is reimagined for a whole new
generation. This epic 4-part miniseries tells the story of Kunta Kinte, a
West African youth sold into slavery. This time, we follow Kunta and his family
through the generations, up to the Civil War.
The home entertainment release of Roots
includes an in-depth behind-the-scene featurette and will be available on
Blu-ray and DVD for the suggested retail price of $29.99 and $26.98,
subject which seems to rear its head more and more in today’s society is
paedophilia. It feels like every other week brings with it some story of a TV
star, singer, film star or MP who has preyed upon young and vulnerable victims
for their sexual gratification. That’s not counting the number of domestic
cases or the growing problem of online abuse and degradation against minors.
Thankfully the culprits are in a minority, but such stories - when they break -
send ripples of shame and outrage throughout the journalistic world.
have been tackling this most difficult of subjects for longer than people
realise. One example is Hammer’s Never
Take Sweets From A Stranger (1960), which was largely dismissed by critics
when released, but is actually a very well-executed attempt which highlights the
horrors of child molestation. If nothing else, it is worth watching just to see
Hammer serving up a rare and stark ‘message’ picture. There were a number of other ‘60s and ‘70s
films featuring adult males preying on young girls. David Greene’s I Start Counting (1969), Sidney Hayers’ Assault (1971) and Sidney Lumet’s The Offence (1973) spring to mind as
front-runners in this once-taboo sub-genre. In 1971, Hayers directed another
film featuring the theme of child molestation: Revenge, starring Joan Collins, James Booth and Kenneth Griffith.
Like Lumet’s The Offence, Revenge doesn’t focus on the victims but
instead on the suspected culprit and, more interestingly, the victims’ parents
who turn to vigilantism to satisfy their thirst for revenge.
the release of suspected paedophile and murderer Seely (Kenneth Griffith) in a
gritty north-of-England town, the relatives of his last two victims decide to
take the law into their own hands. Pub landlord Jim Radford (James Booth), his
son Lee (Tom Marshall) and friend Harry (Ray Barrett) plot to kidnap Seely and
beat a confession out of him in the cellar of the pub. Later, when Jim’s wife
Carol (Joan Collins) learns what they’re up to, she too joins in with the
plan quickly spirals out of control and everyone realises three disturbing
facts: first, they have committed a crime themselves and are therefore no
better than the villain they aim to punish; second, they cannot be certain they
have inflicted their revenge on the right man, as no confession is forthcoming;
lastly, there is no way to undo what they have done. How can they ensure their
target stays silent? The obvious way is to kill him – but none of the
vigilantes is completely comfortable with carrying out the deed.
who has seen the film will be surprised to learn it was heavily promoted as a
horror film during its theatrical run, especially outside the UK. Alternative
titles in the US included Behind The
Cellar Door, Inn Of The Terrified
People and Terror From Under The
House, all of which create an impression of terrifying and gruesome
goings-on. Even those who realised they were going to see a vigilante movie
probably expected the film to concentrate heavily on exploitation elements, but
in reality such aspects are pretty tame. The only scene of real extended
violence sees Jim furiously beating Seely but it is fairly restrained by genre
standards, and as for sex and nudity there are just a couple of understated
scenes which do little to get viewers feeling hot under the collar. The whole
thing was rather misleadingly marketed: even the theatrical posters at the time
trumped-up the non-existent horror elements, with one poster (for the Terror From Under The House edition)
carrying a disclaimer which boldly declared: “Free with every admission! You
must accept Free Screaming Teeth of Terror as a warning the TERROR FROM
UNDER THE HOUSE might just SCARE YOU TO DEATH!” Additional taglines warned: “If
you look in the basement… be ready to scream!” and “You may never dare go in
the basement again!” Such statements don’t fit the flavour of the on-screen
action. They are, frankly, complete lies. The film provides a few shocks for
viewers but not in the horror sense - this is a melodrama with an ambiguous
moral dilemma at its core, and its shocks are rooted in man’s cruelty to fellow
possible explanation for the bizarre alternative titles bestowed on the film is
that another 1971 movie called Revenge
was made starring Shelley Winters, Stuart Whitman and Bradford Dillman. To further add to the
confusion, the other film shares common threads with this one: a daughter dying
under tragic circumstances while the man believed responsible is held captive
in the cellar by her family. The American Revenge
was a made-for-TV release.
British Revenge works well because it
takes primarily normal, upstanding characters and pushes them to moral and
emotional limits. The man they believe is guilty of attacking their daughters
is released by the police, leaving them with no sense of justice or catharsis
over the crime inflicted against their beloved. Until one has experienced such
heartbreak, one cannot say with certainty what extremes one would go to in
order to get justice. Booth encapsulates this dilemma perfectly: first, we see
him as a reluctant conspirator taking the law into his own hands; later, he
becomes consumed with hatred, unleashing his fury by beating the suspect nearly
to death. The distressed family members become as sadistic as the supposed
child molester – a vicious cycle gathers momentum and cannot be stopped.
Griffith is splendid as the suspected paedophile. After being captured by the
vigilantes on suspicion of the rape and murder of an innocent young girl, we in
the audience only begin to learn about him as a character after he has been beaten, so in many ways we view him as a victim.
We witness his kidnapping, see him beaten and left for dead, watch his
attackers treat him like dirt and discuss how to dispose of him – there is
considerable doubt and ambiguity about whether he is guilty of the crime, and
we are left to ponder if his captors have made a mistake. Credit to Griffith
for playing the role with just enough bashful nervousness to create this doubt.
Even his tormentors show uncertainty at times, slowly realising they might have
vented their rage on the wrong man. The Radfields’ other daughter discovers
what her family has done and becomes sympathetic towards Seely, showing that
she thinks they have become monsters in their quest for justice. The sometimes
hammy Collins gives a very decent, restrained performance as a woman who feels
indirectly responsible for the murder of her step-daughter. There’s also an
interesting subplot showing her rather sordid affair with her own step-son.
directs the film with a firm hand, keeping things interesting and engrossing
without tipping into total sensationalism. He later reteamed with some of the
crew, including writer John Kruse and cinematographer Ken Hodges, for the
similarly confrontational Assault (aka
In The Devil’s Garden), another
overlooked but worthwhile film about an attack on a young girl. One mis-step in
Revenge is the score by Eric Rogers
which seems a trifle out of place. Rogers mainly scored comedy films, and
doesn’t quite convey enough seriousness to complement the drama here.
Cinema Retro has received the following press release.
HOLLYWOOD, Calif. – Captain Kirk and the crew of the Enterprise
will boldly go where they have never gone before when STAR TREK II: THE WRATH
OF KHAN Director’s Edition arrives for the first time ever on Blu-ray June 7,
2016 from Paramount Home Media Distribution. As part of the 50th
anniversary celebration of the Star Trek franchise, this classic film has been digitally
remastered in high definition with brilliant picture quality and will be
presented in both Nicholas Meyer’s Director’s Edition and the original
theatrical version. The Blu-ray also includes a brand-new, nearly
30-minute documentary entitled “The Genesis Effect: Engineering The Wrath of
Khan,” which details the development and production of this fan-favorite film
through archival footage, photos and new interviews.
In addition to the new documentary, the STAR TREK II: THE WRATH
OF KHAN Director’s Edition Blu-ray is bursting with more than two hours of
previously released special features including multiple commentaries, original
interviews with William Shatner, Leonard Nimoy, Ricardo Montalban and DeForest
Kelley, explorations of the visual effects and musical score, a tribute to
Ricardo Montalban, storyboards and much more.
Captain Kirk’s Starfleet career enters a new chapter as a result
of his most vengeful nemesis: Khan Noonien Singh, the genetically enhanced
conqueror from late 20th century Earth. Escaping his forgotten prison,
Khan sets his sights on both capturing Project Genesis, a device of god-like
power, and the utter destruction of Kirk.
STAR TREK II: THE WRATH OF KHAN Director’s
The Blu-ray is presented in 1080p high definition with English
7.1 Dolby TrueHD, French 2.0 Dolby Digital, Spanish Mono Dolby Digital and
Portuguese Mono Dolby Digital with English, English SDH, French, Spanish and
Portuguese subtitles. The disc includes the following:
Director’s Edition in high definition
Theatrical Version in high definition
Commentary by director Nicholas Meyer (Director’s Edition &
Commentary by director Nicholas Meyer and Manny Coto (Theatrical
Text Commentary by Michael and Denise Okuda (Director’s Edition)
Library Computer (Theatrical Version)
The Genesis Effect: Engineering The Wrath of Khan—NEW!
Original interviews with DeForest Kelley, William Shatner,
Leonard Nimoy and Ricardo Montalban
Where No Man Has Gone Before: The Visual Effects of Star Trek
II: The Wrath of Khan
James Horner: Composing Genesis
The Star Trek Universe
Collecting Star Trek’s Movie Relics
A Novel Approach
Starfleet Academy: The Mystery Behind Ceti Alpha VI
By 1974 John Wayne was in the twilight of his long, distinguished film career that had spanned six decades. Although the genre that we associate him most with, the Western, was still in vogue, the trend among audience preferences had clearly shifted to urban crime dramas. Surprisingly, Wayne had never played a cop or detective - unless you want to count his role in the lamentable "Big Jim McLain", a 1952 Warner Brothers propaganda film that served as a love letter to Sen. Joseph McCarthy. In that turkey, Wayne played an investigator for HUAC, the House UnAmerican Activities Committee that served as McCarthy's private police force, presumably searching out commie infiltrators. All they ended up doing was ruining the lives of left-wing people in the arts and academia. Wayne, for his part, remained unapologetic for his support of HUAC even after McCarthy's popularity plummeted and he ended his career in shame and disgrace. However, Wayne might have been discouraged from sticking his on-screen persona into volatile contemporary situations. His next bout with controversy would not be until the release of his 1968 pro-Vietnam War film "The Green Berets", which outraged liberals but brought in considerable boxoffice receipts from Wayne's fan base. By the early 1970s, the success of the "dirty cop" genre led major stars to gravitate to these films in much the same way many actors had longed to play secret agents during the James Bond-inspired spy rage of the previous decade. William Friedkin's "The French Connection" (1971) is generally credited as being the influential film that launched this type of film but, in reality, one could argue that Steve McQueen's anti-Establishment cop in "Bullitt" (1968) paved the way. The late 1971 release of "Dirty Harry" sent the genre into overdrive and even John Wayne decided to get on board. In fact, Wayne had been offered the title role in "Dirty Harry" but had turned it down because he felt his fan base would not accept him in a film that had so much violence and profanity. His instincts were right: had Wayne played the role, the script would have had to have been altered and watered down to the point that all of its social impact would have been lost. Still, Wayne saw the monumental success of the Clint Eastwood crime classic and decided to play a rogue cop in the thriller "McQ". The project also marked the first and only time he would work with esteemed action director John Sturges.
The film, which is refreshingly set in Seattle instead of the usual locales (New York, L.A., San Francisco) opens with Seattle Police Detective Stan Boyle (William Bryant) assassinating two uniformed fellow police officers before getting knocked off himself. When Boyle's partner, fellow Detective Lon McQ (John Wayne) gets word he has been killed, he becomes obsessed with finding the murderer, unaware that Boyle himself had carried out the killings. McQ's boss, Captain Ed Kosterman (Eddie Albert), who also does not know about Boyle's dark side, feels that the murders are the work of local radicals. McQ disagrees and suspects that the killers were hired by Santiago (Al Lettieri), a local drug kingpin who hides behind the veil of being a respected businessman. Santiago has long had grudges against McQ and Boyle for times they've tried to bust him in the past. When Kosternan discounts McQ's theory and refuses to assign him to the case, McQ abruptly resigns from the force in order to move more freely. Relying on his police informants and contacts, McQ signs up with his friend Pinky's (David Huddleston) private detective agency in order to be able to carry a firearm legally. (An amusing running gag in the film finds McQ constantly being relieved of his weapons.) McQ learns from a local pimp, Rosie (Roger E. Mosley), who he routinely bribes for information, that the murders may be tied to a major drug robbery that Santiago has hired an out-of-town heist team to carry out. McQ's belief that Santiago is behind the police killings is reinforced by the fact that that he narrowly escapes two assassination attempts carried out by professional killers. Meanwhile, McQ learns that the brazen plan involves snatching seized heroin from the police department before it can be burned and abscond with a couple of million dollars of the white powder. McQ doggedly carries out his investigation and charms Myra (Colleen Dewhurst), an aging cocktail waitress with a drug habit who used to be friendly with Boyle. From her, he learns that corrupt police officials are in on Santiago's scheme and are willing confederates, but he doesn't know exactly who they are. McQ attempts to thwart the heist at police headquarters but the brazen thieves manage to get away despite engaging in a shoot-out with McQ, who fails in his attempt to catch them in a wild car chase through the streets and highways of Seattle.
McQ's private investigation leads him to infiltrate Santiago's business office where Santiago and his men are anticipating his arrival. They get the drop on McQ but Santiago has a surprising confession for the ex-cop: he freely admits to orchestrating the drug heist from police HQ- but shows McQ the disappointing fruits of his labors: white powder that turns out to be sugar. Both McQ and Santiago can appreciate the irony: the real drugs had been stolen by police officials prior to the robbery and replaced with sugar. Crooked cops have succeeded in swindling the crook himself. McQ and Santiago part company, both knowing that the other man is intent on finding the location of the real drugs before they can be sold. The closer McQ gets to the answer, the more precarious his personal situation becomes as a close personal informant is murdered and McQ finds himself being framed for complicity in the drug heist. The script by Lawrence Roman builds in tension under John Sturges' assured direction and leads to some relatively surprising plot twist in a caper film packed with red herrings. Wayne was faulted by some critics for being miscast and because he was nearing seventy and had a noticeable paunch. However, Wayne's appearance actually works to his benefit. He doesn't look like some glam movie star and his real world appearance makes him convincing as an aging everyday cop. Additionally, he remains quite convincing in the action scenes even sans saddle and can engage in punch-ups and shoot-outs with as much conviction as ever. Most refreshingly, McQ isn't some "know-it-all" hero. He frequently makes wrong judgments and assumptions and pays a heavy price for these miscalculations. Wayne benefits from a fine supporting cast. In particular, his scenes with Eddie Albert and Colleen Dewhurst are especially strong and its regrettable that this is the first time he ever appeared on screen with either of them. (Dewhurst had a memorable role in Wayne's 1972 film "The Cowboys", but they never shared the screen together). Al Lettieri, in one of his final screen roles, proves again why he was one of the most reliable movie villains of the era. Other fine support comes from Clu Gulager and Jim Watkins (now acting under the name of Julian Christopher) as McQ's police cronies who may or may not be as loyal as they seem and Diana Muldaur, who gives a very effective performance as the grieving widow who seems a bit too flirty with McQ. Some lighthearted moments are effectively provided by David Huddleston and Roger E. Mosley, both of whom become exasperated by McQ but who can't resist assisting him. The movie features some very fine action set-pieces and climaxes with a superbly staged car chase along the Olympic Peninsula that finds McQ driving on the beach through the crashing surf with Santiago and a car full of armed goons in hot pursuit.
Warner Home Video has released the film on Blu-ray land it looks terrific on all counts. Bonus extras are a vintage six-minute production short that includes brief interviews with Wayne and other cast members but which concentrates on filming the climactic car chase, which made screen history for the number of "roll-overs" a car did during a particularly dangerous stunt. An original trailer is also included.
I've always liked "McQ" and in our present era of dumbed-down cop flicks, it plays even better than it did at the time of its original release. It's one of the Duke's best latter career action movies and the new Blu-ray is a "must have" for Wayne fans.
The 1968 jungle-based adventure The Face of Eve has been released on DVD in the UK as a constituent
of 'The British Film' collection from Network.
Hunting for treasure in the Amazon, Mike Yates (Easy Rider's Robert Walker Jr)
encounters taciturn, scantily-clad jungle beauty Eve (The Velvet Vampire's Celeste Yarnall) when she rescues him from
certain death at the hands of savages. Meanwhile in Spain, Yates's financier –
the wheelchair-bound Colonel Stuart (Christopher Lee) – has knowledge of the
location of a fabled stash of Incan riches, but he's unaware that his friend
and business partner Diego (Herbert Lom) has been plotting to cheat him out of
his fortune. Diego has coaxed his wife Conchita (Rosenda Monteros) into
infiltrating the household in the guise of Eve, the ailing Stuart's long lost
granddaughter and imminent sole heir. After Stuart divulges the treasure's
believed location to Diego, the duplicitous pair take off to find it...with
Yates, in the company of the real Eve, in hot pursuit.
Emerging from under the wing of legendary and prolific producer
Harry Alan Towers – the man behind some marvellous exploitationers throughout
the 60s, including a splendid run of Christopher Lee/Fu Manchu chillers, plus
Shirley Eaton star vehicle The Million
Eyes of Sumuru and its sequel The
Girl from Rio – if nothing else The
Face of Eve gives audiences an abundance of plot for their money. What it doesn’t deliver is anywhere near enough
of its star attraction. The film was directed by Vengeance of Fu Manchu's Jeremy Summers, a jobbing director whose
name will probably be most familiar in that capacity to fans of ITC TV shows of
the 60s. Towers himself took on scripting duties under his oft-employed nom de plume Peter Welbeck. As such, its
pedigree was certainly sound enough. It's just a shame that the resulting film
falls short of expectation, largely because, as already touched upon, the pair
failed to capitalise on their main asset: Celeste Yarnall.
Following a fistful of appearances in TV shows (among them The Man from U.N.C.L.E, Land of the Giants and Star Trek), as well as
blink-and-you'll-miss-her walk-ons in films such as Around the World Under the Sea and The Nutty Professor, 1968 proved to be Yarnall's big screen
breakout year when she secured a major role in Elvis starrer Live a Little, Love a Little and,
perhaps a tad less prestigiously, the titular role here in The Face of Eve. The actress plays the ‘Sheena Queen of the Jungle’
bit to perfection, clad in an admirably-filled chamois leather bikini that gives
the eye-catching attire of other jungle babes (such as Evelyne Kraft, Marion
Michael and Tanya Roberts) more than a run for its money. Thus, unsurprisingly,
whenever she's on screen she's very much the focal point, amusingly changing
hairstyle as often as she does her outfit. The problem is that Eve is side-lined
for the middle third of the picture, which relocates to Spain and gets a little
bogged down in the despicable duplicities of the Diegos and their mission to separate
Stuart from his wealth. So protracted is the business going on here that viewers
could be forgiven for wondering if Summers is ever going to get back to the more
interesting vicinage of the Amazon.
Beyond the obvious audience-bait of Yarnall (depicted on posters clinging
to a jungle vine far more fetchingly than Tarzan ever did), Lee and Lom bring
star name lustre to the aid of the party – though the former's age-augmenting
makeup falls some distance shy of convincing – and wiry-framed Walker Jr makes
for an unlikely but surprisingly affable hero. Fred Clark is good value too as
a nightclub owner-cum-showman who smells $’s-to-be-mined by exploiting the
newly discovered jungle nymphet, whilst Maria Rohm (Harry Alan Towers’ wife for
45 years up until his death in 2009) lip-syncs a smoochy musical number as a
bar-room brawl gets into full swing around her.
Though it’s enjoyable enough for what it is, The Face of Eve is a criminally unremarkable film; one can’t help
feeling that its premise should have birthed something with so much more
pizazz. Case in point, it was shot in Spain and Brazil, exotic enough locales
that regardless of anything else going on should have gifted the production with
a ton of spectacle, yet Manuel Merino's resolutely uninspired cinematography renders
most of the jungle sequences cheap-looking and dull.
In summation: a really wasted opportunity.
The colours on Network’s 1.66:1 ratio DVD transfer (sourced from
the original film elements) are occasionally a little muted, but aside from a slightly
ratty opening titles sequence it's a nice clean print. The only bonus feature
is a gallery of posters, stills and lobby cards from around the globe.
the hundreds of Italian Westerns
produced, naturally many of them rate as only sub-par. A few of these sub-par
entries have an interesting twist or stand-out sequence but are still only
sub-par at the end of the day. Despite its all-star cast and dynamic poster,
this is what I expected A Town Called
Hell (1971) to be like. To the contrary, not only is the film something of
an offbeat gothic-western similar to Django
Kill! and High Plains Drifter,
but it also has beautiful production values. The opening sequence, wherein a
church is the site of a bloody massacre during the Mexican Revolution, is
almost Hammer-like in some regards. Ten years later the very revolutionary
(Robert Shaw) who killed the priest has now taken his place in the same church.
And then comes to town a mysterious woman in black in a horse and carriage with
a pale mute manservant. In the carriage is a black coffin that she intends to
fill with the body of the man who killed her husband (whom she believes to be
in the town) but until she does she sleeps in the coffin like a vampire (she’s
not btw, it’s not that Gothic).
Unlike many predictable Spaghettis, A
Town Called Hell raises one intriguing question after another as the story
progresses. That being said, the answers to said questions aren’t exactly
mind-blowing and unfortunately overall the film is somewhat hard to follow at
times. However, the direction by Robert Parish is so engrossing one is still
able to be entertained even if they don’t fully understand everything. Parish
had previously directed the sci-fi flick Journey
to the Far Side of the Sun (1969) and portions of the 1967 Casino Royale for some of Peter
Sellers’s scenes. Robert Shaw is riveting in the lead as the revolutionary
turned priest, though fans looking forward to a large dose of Telly Savalas, featured
prominently on the poster, are in for a disappointment as he disappears (his
fate is unclear) relatively early into the movie. The rest of the impressivecast, which includes such stalwarts as Stella Stevens, Martin Landau, Michael Craig, Al Lettieri, Aldo Sambrell and Fernando Rey, put in
good performances as well, and the music score by Waldo de los Rios is
excellent. If one didn’t know better they might think Rios scored westerns
often, but in fact had scored only one other before this. The sets in
particular are a stand-out aspect of the production, most of all the interior
of the church where the massacre takes place, making this one of the more
lavish Spaghetti Westerns.
be accurate, the film isn’t actually a “pure-bred” Italian Western, but was
financed by Benmar Films out of Britain. As to the Blu-ray from Kino Lorber,
the transfer is gorgeous for the most part, but on the downside the spoken
dialogue is difficult to hear in some spots, another reason the film is
occasionally hard to follow. There are no special features aside from a trailer
for another Kino Lorber release, Navajo
Joe. Overall, though the story never quite lives up to the questions it
raises or its intriguing Gothic trappings, A
Town Called Hell is still highly recommended for Spaghetti Western buffs
Director Daniel Birt's
1952 crime drama The Night Won't Talk
arrives on DVD in the UK as an integrant of Network Distributing's impressive,
ongoing 'The British Film' collection.
In the wake of her murder
via strangulation it transpires that artists' model Stella Smith was a serial
gold-digger, the string of discarded and disgruntled dupes left in her
avaricious wake constituting a healthy number of suspects. Stella's
husband-to-be, artist Clayton Hawks (John Bailey), can't be certain that he himself
isn't the murderer; given to outbursts of uncontrolled rage, he was in the
throes of a stress-induced blackout at the time. With Inspector West (Ballard
Berkeley) breathing down his neck, Clayton – assisted by two friends, model
Hazel (Mary Germaine) and fellow artist Theo (Hy Hazell) – sets out to uncover
Daniel Birt lensed a
number of serviceable potboilers throughout the 40s and early 50s, among them Third Party Risk, Three Weird Sisters and The
Interrupted Journey. Running a couple of minutes short of an hour, The Night Won't Talk barely really qualifies
as a feature film but back in the day it constituted solid and efficient
A-feature support; it's a workmanlike and talky, yet never less than engaging serving
of Brit noir whodunnit – even if the identity of the ‘who’ that ‘dunnit’ ultimately
proves no great surprise.
John Bailey plays shifty convincingly
enough (even though there's never any doubt he isn't the killer), whilst
the resident feminine allure, in the shape of Hy Hazell and Hazel Germaine,
proves to be more than just decorous; Hazell is particularly good. Law
enforcement is represented by Ballard Berkeley (an actor for whom B-movie
police inspectors were a stock in trade back in the 50s, even though he’s
probably best remembered now for his latterday turn as the bumbling Major in TV
comedy classic Fawlty Towers) and a
perpetually pipe-nursing Duncan Lamont; the duo weed through the slew of
suspects with such insouciance it's a miracle they actually solve the case at
all, though naturally they come rushing in at the climax just in time to
prevent another fatality.
Most of the characters, both
male and female, speak in the clipped, dreadfully proper English of the "I
say, old man" ilk, there's a memorably imaginative and effectively rendered
moment involving the killer's shadow, and although much of the production is
set-bound there's some atmospheric footage of period River Thames at twilight
(Hazell's character resides on a houseboat).
Never threatening to reach
the lofty heights of gripping, The Night
Won't Talk still makes for a pretty decent hour's watch, and Network's
1.37:1 ratio DVD presentation delivers a clean and sharp transfer (taken from
the original film elements) which only falters in one of two brief instances of
missing frames. The sole supplement is a gallery of original release
Lee Ermey and Wings Hauser are Marines defending an American outpost in Vietnam
during the Tet Offensive in “The Siege of Firebase Gloria,” directed by Brian Trenchard-Smith and recently released
on Blu-ray via Kino Lorber. The 1989 release was an independent production
filmed on location in the Philippines which is a common stand-in for Vietnam. The
movie opens as Marines come across a recent massacre in a South Vietnamese village.
The destruction is horrific with decapitated heads and piles of bloody bodies
killed by the enemy in order to send a message to others not to assist the Americans.
The Marines make their way to helicopter transport after rescuing an American
prisoner and fighting the Vietcong hiding in a fishing camp. The Marines’ destination
is Firebase Gloria, a jungle outpost surrounded by North Vietnamese soldiers
a Marine in real life, is very good as the tough Marine Sergeant Major Bill
Haffner. He takes his Marines across hostile Vietnamese territory and leads
them in reinforcing and defending the firebase against a continuous onslaught
by the Vietcong. His second in command, Corporal Joseph L. DiNardo (Hauser), is
younger and a bit more jaded than Haffner, but not about to take any chances
with the enemy. Gloria is surrounded by Vietcong and its defenses offer little
more than a series of buildings on a hill surrounded by barbed wire and
soldiers in trenches. The men assigned to Gloria know the situation is bleak
and spend their time indulging in getting high on drugs.
drug-using commanding officer has gone crazy so Haffner and DiNardo arrange a
fake attack that results in the commander being wounded and airlifted out of
Gloria. Haffner takes command, removes the drugs and strengthens the base
defenses in anticipation of the predictable attacks to come. After being
informed by the First Sergeant of the presence of female medical staff on
Firebase Gloria, Sergeant Major Haffner responds with one of the best of his many
sarcastic lines of dialog, “The shit's gettin' pretty goddamned deep around
here. Is there any nuns or Girl Scouts that I should know about on the
firebase?” Margaret Gerard plays the head nurse, Captain Cathy Flanagan, the
only major female character in the movie. She has a few good scenes mostly playing
off Ermey’s sarcastic comments, but she has very little else to do in the
battle scenes are relentless and bloody with little time for a break. Scenes of
the enemy assessing the situation at Firebase Gloria are dispersed between the series
of attacks, but don’t really add much to the movie. It feels as though the
filmmakers were attempting to humanize the Vietcong in these scenes, but it
doesn’t quite work and only adds unnecessary sub-titled dialog between the
Vietcong commander and his second in command as a sort of counterpoint to
Haffner and DiNardo. There is a scene during the climactic battle where the
Vietcong commander and Haffner are going at each other hand-to-hand just as the
enemy over-runs the base, but the Vietcong commander retreats upon arrival of
several Army Huey helicopters, thus ending their assault.
receives second billing to Wings Hauser, but Hauser is one of the weakest
aspects of this movie. Watch “The Siege of Firebase Gloria” for colorful dialog
by Ermey which adds the right touch of sarcastic counterpoint and humor,elevating
the film away from the typical gung-ho action movie. This rarely seen gem has
been missing in action on home video for years except for used VHS copies. MGM finally
made it available as a burn to order DVD in 2012. I haven’t viewed that disc,
but this Blu-ray looks and sounds pretty good, though there is an acceptable
amount of grain in the picture. The only extra on this Kino Lorber release is
the trailer. This movie is nowhere near the caliber of Vietnam War classics
like “Apocalypse Now,” “The Deer Hunter” and “Full Metal Jacket,” but is
recommended for fans of old fashioned military action B-movies and a memorable
performance by the terrific R. Lee Ermey.
on Lillian Hellman’s 1934 play, “The Children’s Hour,” These Three strays from the source most notably in its cause for public
outrage. While the earlier work took as its inciting gossip a suggestion of
lesbianism between two female teachers, Hollywood’s production code dictates
would not allow such an insinuation in a 1936 film (director William Wyler’s
own 1961 remake, which retains the play’s title, was more effectively able to
get away with it). Nevertheless, the rumor of
unmarried sexuality, on school property no less, is damaging enough for its time
and place, even if the film does lose some of the scandalous bite provoked by the
As These Three starts, best
friends Martha Dobie (Miriam Hopkins) and Karen Wright (Merle Oberon, fresh off
an Oscar-nominated performance in 1935’s The
Dark Angel) rush into their dream of opening a boarding school just minutes
after they graduate from college. “Take a chance with me,” implores Karen, and
with that, the two are off to a rural Massachusetts community. The area is charmingly
rustic, but the actual site of their institution, Karen’s inherited farmhouse,
is more than a little rickety. Though the poor condition of the structure is
played for laughs, it is also the first signal that their goal will not be
Alleviating some of that hesitation is the appearance of Dr.
Joseph Cardin (Joel McCrea, having also worked with Hopkins the year prior on Barbary Coast and Splendor), first presented here by the chunks of wood he comically
heaves through a hole in the building’s bee-infested Swiss cheese roof. Once introduced
to one another, the trio form a promptly congenial group, sitting together and
jointly munching on Joseph’s lunch. There is some stated surprise at their immediate
camaraderie, and there is a tinge of inevitable jealousy regarding whom Joseph
favors most, but all in all, Martha and Karen have found a solid ally.
With the bucolic setting comes a cloistered small-town mentality
and carefully arranged social structure. The two young women are instant outsiders,
apparently despite Karen’s roots in the region, and in their naiveté, they also
open themselves up to humiliation. Their first misstep is to procure the ire of
the precocious Mary Tilford (Bonita Granville), who is set up to be their first
pupil and the cause of their downfall. Furthermore, Joseph’s playfulness is regarded
by some as impudence, and Karen and Martha are generally greeted with cautious
skepticism. Before long, rumors and assumptions fly, deriving from Martha’s
annoyingly obtrusive aunt Lily (Catherine Doucet) and Mary, who is a conniving
troublemaker. When the girl is punished for lying, she retaliates by telling
her grandmother (Alma Kruger), a wealthy town benefactor, about the supposed
tryst between Joseph and Martha. A steady anxiety grows from the planted
suspicions, and, more than that, there is genuine shock when Mary reveals a
terrifyingly cruel violent streak. Confronted by accusations of illicit and
harmful activity at the school, Karen, Martha, and Joseph are thus embroiled in
a town-wide conspiracy. While they remain an unwavering team in the face of the
fabricated outrage, going so far as to make their case in court, the entire scheme
has been devastating enough to dismantle their idyllic institution and their
Even if the lesbianism in any overt sense has been left on the
stage, there is still a notably familiar friendship between Karen and Martha.
They frequently speak in the plural possessive and for much of the early
portion of These Three, the two are
framed closely together, stressing their physical proximity and their initial
shared expressions and thoughts. This type of composition is gradually less frequent
as Joseph comes between the women, but what seems to impede a full commitment
to the neighborly doctor, as much as the townsfolk distrust, is the sincere,
respectful bond between the two friends. Perhaps to limit the perceived possibility
of just where the jealousy may actually be directed—Martha’s jealousness at
Joseph choosing her friend instead of her rather than her being jealous of
Karen finding another love—the women bear no great hostility toward one another
as their work and lives are put to the test.
Produced by the prolific Samuel Goldwyn,
who was working with Wyler on the first of what would be their eight films
together, These Three moves along at
a decent pace. Even at just 93 minutes, though, there are times when the
developing drama is stretched a little thin in order to prolong the film’s
third act, only to then have the conclusion itself somewhat hurried. The performances
are generally good across the board, and Granville at just 14 would be
nominated for an Academy Award. A major drawback concerning nearly all involved,
however, is when the actors lose a considerable degree of empathy and
effectiveness by breaking into shrieking emotional outbursts, which happens a
lot. This type of fluctuating behavior is mirrored in the film’s tonal
oscillation as well; what starts innocent enough grows simply sinister as
hysterics set in amidst the close confines of the school. Adhering to the bound
constraints of the stage play, Wyler and cinematographer Gregg Toland seldom
venture outdoors, adding to the combustible claustrophobia (the restrictiveness
is literally evident when McCrea has to duck through one particular doorway). Neither
Wyler nor Toland were at their legendary status by this point, so though they
do contribute to clean, clear, and precise visuals, the imagery is so
restrained and unembellished that it scarcely suggests the pictorial brilliance
both men would soon exhibit.
These Three is
available now on a single-disc DVD from the Warner Brothers Archive Collection.
CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM THE CINEMA RETRO MOVIE STORE
(The following reviews pertain to the UK Region 2 releases)
I'm in the right mood I adore bit of film noir. I admire the diversity of its
storytelling, I love every facet, from the hardboiled private eyes, duplicitous
dames and characters that seldom turn out to be what they first appear, to the
alleyways bathed in inky shadows, ramshackle apartments and half-lit street
corners they inhabit. How can you not get drawn in by the sheer delight of Edward
G Robinson playing a second rate psychic trying to convince the authorities he
can see the future in The Night Has a
Thousand Eyes? Or amnesiac John Hodiak on a mission to discover his own
identity, in the process getting embroiled in a 3-year-old murder case and the
search for a missing $2 million in Somewhere
in the Night? Yes, indeed, there's nothing quite like a hearty serving of film
noir on a Sunday afternoon to soothe those end-of-the-weekend blues.
released to dual format Blu-ray and DVD in the UK – carefully restored by UCLA
Film and Television Archive following several years of sleuthing by the Film
Noir Foundation – are a couple real crackers. I'd seen neither before but both have
quickly found a spot among my favourites.
up is 1949 United Artists picture Too
Late for Tears (also known under the re-release moniker Killer Bait), directed by Byron Haskin
from a Roy Huggins
story (first serialised in the 'Saturday Evening Post'). The plot hinges on a
bag packed with an ill-gotten $60,000 worth of banknotes. Husband and wife Alan
and Jane Palmer (Arthur Kennedy and Lizabeth Scott) are drawn into a deadly
game when someone in a passing car hurls a briefcase full of cash into the back
of their open top saloon – cash so hot it's "a bag o' dynamite", as
Alan sagely recognises it. He’s insistent that they hand it over to the cops,
but Jane is having none of it; their ship has come in and she intends to hop aboard.
Initially she swings Alan round to her way of thinking but it's not long before
the intended recipient of the money (Dan Duryea) shows up to claim it back.
Jane, tougher than she at first seemed, is determined to keep it even if doing
so means resorting to murder.
striking support from the slinky Kristine Miller and an urbane Don DeFore, this
is 100% Lizabeth Scott's parade. She's breathtaking as the ice cold blonde schemestress
with a loaded shooter in one hand and a clutch bag full of seductive ploys in
the other; as femme fatales go they don't come much wilier. Huggins' script is
awash with mistrust and the razor sharp repartee born thereof: "Looking
for something?"/"My lipstick"/"Colt or Smith &
Wesson?". The twists come thick and fast as Jane's scruples, if ever she
had any, are casually discarded as she calculatingly works to finagle the cash.
With a sucker punch of a final twist that doles out the roughest of justice, Too Late for Tears is a little gem.
Next up, a Universal Pictures release: Norman Foster's San Francisco based Woman on the Run, a tad lighter in tone
but equally gripping. Out walking his dog one night, artist Frank Johnson (Ross
Elliott) witnesses a murder – but the killer sees him too. With little faith in
police witness protection, Johnson does a runner. Believing that he's really trying
to escape their failing marriage, Frank's wife Eleanor (Ann Sheridan) sets out
to find him. Assisted by intrepid reporter Dan Legget (Dennis O'Keefe), eager
to scoop a front page exclusive, Eleanor follows a trail of clues that reveal
things about Frank she never knew, all the while dodging the police (who believe
she'll lead them to her husband, the only person who can identify the killer), and
blindly unaware she’s being watched by the killer himself, intent on eliminating
the sole witness to his crime.
from a screenplay he co-wrote with Alan Campbell, Foster (who went on to direct
episodes of Batman and The Green Hornet for television) keeps
the action moving along at a fair old lick, never afraid to punctuate the mood
with a splash of comic relief; the Johnson's dog is called Rembrandt, because
"It's the nearest we’ll come to owning one". Although it initially
feels like folly when the story’s ace twist is played midway point, it’s in
fact a very shrewd move; arming the audience with such vital knowledge serves
to ratchet up the suspense thereafter to almost unbearable levels. Boasting
some fantastic San Francisco location work and climaxing amidst the after-dark
amusement park thrills of Santa Monica's Ocean Park Pier (a finale which
delivers squalling tension to rival the theme park located climax to Hitchcock
classic Strangers on a Train,
released the following year), if you dip into only one noir thriller this year,
be sure that it's 24-carat keeper Woman
on the Run.
By the early 1970s there had been a revival of interest in the format of anthology suspense/horror stories. This genre had been all the rage in the late 1950s and early 1960s with shows like "The Twilight Zone", "Alfred Hitchcock Presents" and "Thriller!" (hosted by Boris Karloff) attracting loyal audiences. "Twilight Zone" creator and host Rod Serling had two bites at the apple when he introduced "Night Gallery" as a TV movie in 1969 (giving young Steven Spielberg his first major directing gig) and then spun it off into a moderately successful weekly TV series. The early to mid-1970s also saw a major resurgence in horror-themed anthology feature films. The concept was hardly a new one for the big screen as the first major film of this type was "Dead of Night", released in 1945. Roger Corman oversaw some similarly-themed big screen anthologies in the early to mid-1960s, many of which were inspired by classic horror stories based on the works of Edgar Allan Poe. Not to be outdone, Amicus Films, a rival of Hammer Studios, debuted their anthology concept with the 1965 release of "Dr. Terror's House of Horrors". By the early 1970s we had "Tales From the Crypt", "Vault of Horror", "The House That Dripped Blood" and many others. All of the short stories were based on the same theme: a bunch of disparate characters encounter some supernatural occurrences with the less savory people ending up getting their just desserts through ironic circumstances. In 1983 producer Andrew Mirisch decided to give the anthology concept a try by teaming with producer/screenwriter Christopher Crowe and pitching the concept to Universal. Mirisch had found success in recent years with two popular TV series: "The Hardy Boys/Nancy Drew Mysteries" and "Buck Rogers in the 25th Century". Universal gave the green light for McCarthy's proposed series "Nightmares". The concept was to feature a self-contained horror tale within a half-hour format. For various reasons, including the possible demise of a similarly-themed show titled "Darkroom", the idea for a weekly series was nixed. However, Universal liked what they had seen and decided to morph the concept into a feature film, retaining the title "Nightmares". It consisted of four individual tales and the film was directed by the esteemed Joseph Sargent, who had some high profile TV series and feature films to his credit. The result was an unremarkable but consistently entertaining film that is not as sharp or memorable as some of the best anthology films but superior to some of the weaker ones.
"Nightmares" dispenses with a gimmick used in many anthology films: having a creepy host reveal each of the stories. These just open "cold" without any attempt to link the plots or characters. First up is "Terror in Topanga" which finds Cristina Raines as a young mother who is hopelessly addicted to smoking. One evening she discovers she is out of cigarettes and decides to make a drive into town from her rural home in order to get a pack. Her husband admonishes her and insists that she stays home. Seems there is a manhunt on for a homicidal maniac who has butchered a police officer and who has been terrorizing other residents. Naturally, Raines ignores the advice and sneaks out of the house. The ride to town proves to be ominous with a few red herrings thrown in to mislead the audience, including her encounter with a hitchhiker on a lonely road. When she does make it to the store, it's manned by a wacko clerk (played the inimitable Anthony James) who is somehow more frightening than the maniac. By this point, Raines regrets her decision and is eager to race home. Despite the fact that there is a murderer on the loose, she refuses to lock the doors to her car, even when she leaves it to enter the store. This leads to a predictable development that comes about when she (in true horror movie crisis cliche mode) discovers she is coincidentally almost out of gas. Every major gas station is closed but she eventually finds a lone station on a foreboding mountain road. She has a tense encounter with the sole employee on duty who looks at her menacingly even as he pretends to pump gas. The payoff is based on one of the oldest urban horror legends but the tale is briskly paced and highly entertaining with Raines giving a fine performance as the increasingly nervous victim-to-be.
"Bishop of Battle" goes in an entirely different direction. It eschews dark, foreboding places in favor of a bright suburban home and a crowded game center at a shopping mall. Emilo Estevez is J.J. , an obnoxious high school kid with a mad passion for playing the titular game. He becomes so obsessed with reaching the "13th level" (something few have supposedly ever been able to do) that he begins to withdraw from his parents and friends. His attempts to reach his goal become the stuff of local legend and big crowds gather to watch his attempts- but he always falls a bit short of his ultimate victory. Goaded on by the graphic of the Bishop of Battle, who constantly tempts him to keep trying, J.J. ends up defying his parents, who have ordered him to cease and desist from game-playing. One night he breaks into the arcade and begins his final battle with the Bishop. It leads to a disastrous but predictable conclusion. This segment is well-acted by Estevez and, despite the fact that we can predict the "shock" ending, it plays out well enough. Most of the enjoyment, however, comes from seeing how positively archaic "state-of-the-art" gaming was back in the early 1980s.
"The Benediction" features Lance Henriksen as a priest serving in a tiny desert parish who undergoes a crisis of faith. Having witnessed so many terrible things happen to good people, he decides to hang up his frock and leave the priesthood. His fellow priest tries to talk him out of it, but he is determined to go his own way and start a new life. A big clue as to what awaits him comes with the rather awkward plot device of his being given a gift of holy water to keep him safe on his travels. This promising concept of a priest at odds with his faith is soon abandoned for a ludicrous scenario in which he becomes menaced by a black truck with an unseen driver that keeps appearing out of nowhere and smashing into his car, rendering it inoperable. The demonic vehicle then attempts to kill the priest in a series of spectacular attacks. One of the more ridiculous aspects of a tale that borrows shamelessly from the classic TV movie "Duel", the God-awful Universal cheese fest "The Car" and Stephen King's novel "Christina", is the fact that throughout this entire ordeal not a single other vehicle is anywhere to be seen. We know we are in a horror flick but there still has to be some semblance of reality. Henriksen gives a good performance but "The Benediction" is the weakest of the four stories in "Nightmare".
"Night of the Rat" is the best-remembered segment of the film because of its outrageous premise. Veronica Cartwright and Richard Masur are a young couple with a cute little girl (Bridgette Andersen) who live a normal life in a suburban neighborhood. Mysterious sounds begin to occur and lead them to believe that rats are in the house. The headstrong husband insists he can handle the problem and indeed he does catch and kill the critter. However, this only leads to an escalation of terrors as inexplicable destruction begins to take place all over the house. Absurdly, the husband still insists he can solve everything but when cabinets start falling and dishes crashing, the wife calls in an exterminator who tells her that it appears the house is possessed by something of old German horror legend: a seemingly indestructible giant rat who is out to get revenge for the killing of her baby. The crazy premise actually works better than you might think thanks to the superior performances of the three leads who manage to keep straight faces even when confronted with a five foot rodent who invades their daughter's bed. The special effects of the rat itself look a bit laughable by today's standards but are admirable if one considers the technology of the era and the limited budget. The segment is the most enjoyable of the four and does contain some genuine chills before it's over-the-top finale. As with "The Benediction", there is a gnawing lack in credibility in that, despite the virtual wholesale destruction of this neighborhood home in the dead of night, apparently not one neighbor is aware of the situation.
Shout! Factory's horror label Scream! Factory has released "Nightmares" as a Blu-ray special edition. The main bonus feature is a highly enjoyable commentary track with Andrew Mirisch and Cristina Raines, who appears throughout the track even though she is only in the first segment. Seems she and Mirisch are old chums and had worked together on other projects. Their memories of this particular film get very spotty occasionally but the commentary rolls smoothly thanks to the moderator, film historian Shaun K. Chang, who runs the highly addictive retro film blog Hill Place (click here to access). Chang keeps the conversation light in tone and, not unusually for film historians, seems to have more facts about the making of the film than the people who actually made it. There is plenty of interesting discussion about the background of the movie as a TV project and some very amusing conversations with Mirisch about how "Nightmares" looks a lot richer in terms of production values than the notoriously cheap Universal productions of the era. (Mirisch notes that he was determined to avoid using the same staircase that appeared in seemingly every Universal TV show.) Chang also brings up a more disturbing and poignant fact: that actress Bridgette Andersen, one of the most prolific child actors of the time, died in 1997. Although he doesn't discuss the cause of her death of out respect for her memory, research shows she died at age 17 due to a heroin overdose. In terms of other aspects of the commentary, none of the three participants engage in pretentious analysis of the film and all seem content to regard it as a fun, if not overly significant entry in the horror film canon of the 1980s, though Mirisch concedes at the end of the commentary track that, having seen the film for the first time since 1983, it has aged better than he had expected. The special edition also contains a well-made original trailer and two ominous radio spots. (Remember when they advertised movies on the radio?) In all, a highly impressive Blu-ray release- but with one caveat. The packaging notes that there is a commentary track with Andrew Mirisch and Cristina Raines but doesn't even mention Shaun K. Chang, who does most of the heavy lifting in terms of setting the relaxed tone and getting Mirisch and Raines to reflect on long-forgotten aspects of the film. C'mon, Scream! Factory- how about giving credit where it is due?
“Do you like being filmed and talking about yourself,” director
Agnès Varda asks star and subject Jane Birkin in the 1987 film Jane B. for Agnès V. “Yes and no,” comes
the fittingly ambiguous answer. This fascinating film, recently released on a
Cinelicious Pics Blu-ray alongside Kung-Fu
Master! (1987), the purely fictional feature born from the
quasidocumentary’s unique study of Birkin as an actress and the art of
performance in general, is a movie made of memories, fantasies, and the hazy
area where the two coalesce. Essentially derived from Birkin’s stated fear of
turning 40, Jane B. for Agnès V. is a
ruminative examination of Birkin’s life and work, but it is just as much a
revealing look at Varda as an inventive filmmaker. “I'm filming your
self-portrait,” Varda says to Birkin, setting up the blurring of authorial
lines and not for the first time calling attention to the film’s self-conscious
formation. Constructed from a series of explicitly stylized situations, direct
to camera addresses, rigidly arranged tableaus, and further formal variations, Jane B. for Agnès V. is a cleverly
affected film on the part of both Varda and Birkin. Complicating matters even
more, when Birkin expresses trepidation about being chronicled, saying
specifically she is reluctant to look at the camera, Varda tries to alleviate
the discomfort by telling Birkin to think of the lens as if it were her (Varda)
that she (Birkin) was looking at instead. Of course, by doing so, she is
actually looking at us (the viewer), developing an additional layer of composed
artificiality. Jane B. for Agnès V.
is this kind of film.
There is sometimes purely sincere behavior from Birkin and those
captured by Varda’s probing camera; other times, the action is clearly staged
and simulated, to make and thematic point or strictly for aesthetic purposes.
To Birkin’s credit, her capacity for naturalism is evident—she is a great
actress—but just as the comfort of credibility begins to settle, Varda switches
gears and creates painterly reproductions and stunningly synthetic set-pieces.
There are about a dozen distinct segments through the course of Jane B. for Agnès V., and these brief
skits span a variety of genres and stories, each enabling Birkin to approach an
array of emotions and characterizations. The scene-by-scene randomness does
eventually shape into a larger portrait of an actress and her art, though there
is often no immediate connection between the scenarios—one may suggest a
correlation to a prior scene or a comment Birkin makes, others arbitrarily
Both Jane B. for Agnès V.
and Kung-Fu Master! are visually
heightened by the fabulous transfer for this Cinelicious Pics release (Varda
herself supervised the restoration), but these enhancements are most evident with
the former title. The film’s imagery is a layering of textures, colors,
production design, and camera angles. Its patchwork portrait covers diverse
narrative territory as well, from slapstick to historical drama. The string of
fictitious scenes give Varda and Birkin the opportunity to realize a variety of
genres, as a showcase for their complimentary directorial and acting skills. In
an interview on the Jane B. for Agnès V.
disc, Varda says as much, noting the film allowed Birkin to explore different
aspects of her talent (though Varda also says, in the actual film, that the
actress is the “queen of paradox,” with her desire to be a “famous nobody”).
One is inclined to take the various documentary-type situations as
truth, with no reason to assume they are otherwise. But therein lies another
element of this byzantine film: the obfuscation of the line between fiction and
reality. While some sections appear to be candidly caught on the fly, other
sections are created by Varda explicitly egging them on. Deconstructing the
illusion of filmmaking itself, Jane B.
for Agnès V. is a behind-the-scenes reflection and literal depiction of the
creative process. Near the end of the film, Birkin asks, “What now? Where do we
go?” “We agreed the film would wander, we’d set off someplace and stop along
the way,” replies Varda. “What if we lose our way?” questions the actress. “I
like mazes,” says Varda. “I like finding out where I've been at the exit.” This
awareness of the film’s development is followed by about 30 minutes of a
fictional film being made with Birkin, one in which Varda’s son, Mathieu Demy,
plays a part in the proposed story, which we see simultaneously realized before
Jane B. for Agnès V. then veers off down
This is the initial genesis that shaped Kung-Fu Master! Birkin gets story credit for the second film in
this Blu-ray set, as it was from her suggestions during the making of Jane B. for Agnès V. that Kung-fu Master! was created. Just as the
earlier film dealt with themes such as family, life, loss, and sexuality, so
too is this complementary picture informed by these concerns.
With a cast consisting partially of members from both Varda and
Birkin’s family—to the young Demy as Julien add Birkin’s daughters Charlotte
Gainsbourg, as Lucy, and Lou Doillon, as Lou—Kung-Fu Master! gets off to an upbeat start, with a stuttering
video game introduction to Julien. At a party for Lucy, where she and others of
her age are drinking and smoking and generally acting older and wiser than they
perhaps should, Birkin, as Lucy’s mother, Mary-Jane, first encounters Julien…as
he drunkenly vomits into a toilet. Mary-Jane finds the boy “pathetic” yet
“superb,” and wants to see him again, which she does when she literally runs
into him in her car. To make amends, she treats Julien to a coke and a video
game, the eponymous “Kung-Fu Master.” “Boys are curious and vulnerable,” says
Mary-Jane. “I find it touching.”
This is the start of a fleeting romance that was taboo enough in
1987 to greatly limit the film’s international release. As the courtship
progresses, Julien shows up with flowers and food for his friend’s mother,
while Mary-Jane picks up the boy’s homework when he is home sick from school,
just so she has an excuse to see him. Before long, they are setting dates for
just the two of them alone, where she tries to connect to his youth by playing
the video game and he tries to match her maturity by slipping his hand under
her shirt. The uneasy physicality of the relationship, to say nothing of the
moral quandary (Mary-Jane justifies it to Lucy by noting she herself was with a
man 15-20 years older when she was her daughter’s age), produces an
The Warner Archive has released director Lewis Gilbert's excellent WWII espionage thriller Operation Daybreak.The 1975 film is largely unknown despite the fact that it's one of Gilbert's most ambitious and artistically successful movies. The story is based on fact. Allied Intelligence convinced three Czechs serving in the British army to parachute into their occupied homeland to assassinate Reinhold Heydrich, one of Hitler's most trusted commanders and the man he cynically appointed "protector" of the conquered nations of Europe. Heydrich was considered even more brutal than Hitler and the Allies feared the worst if a scenario came about in which he would have been appointed fuerhrer. As Reinhold was heavily guarded at all times, the commandos were left to their own devices to concoct the assassination plan. After an initial attempt went awry, they opted to boldly approach his car in the middle of the street and spray it with machine gun fire. It will not spoil the film to relate the historical fact that the plan ultimately succeeded, but Operation Daybreak is as much about the aftermath of the incident as it is about the mission itself.
Incredibly, the principal assassins and their network of partisans survived, at least initially. However, on the verge of rescue, elements of betrayal and carelessness led to tragedy. In reprisal for the assassinatin, Hitler ordered that the entire village of Lidice be razed to the ground and every citizen murdered or sent to concentration camps. Gilbert shot the film on location in (then) communist Czechoslovakia. The locales add immeasurably to the sense of authenticity. The film also boasts a sizable budget and there are impressive sequences featuring large numbers of German soldiers parading in the streets - a sight that must have been chilling for residences who lived through the actual occupation. Ronald Harwood's screenplay, based on the novel Seven Men at Daybreak by Alan Burgess, is consistently gripping- and the final battle between the conspirators and a large force of German troops takes place inside a magnificent church. Gilbert ensures this sequence is superbly staged on every level.
If there is a weak link in the film it is the casting of Timothy Bottoms in the lead role. Bottoms is competent enough, but makes for a bland and colorless hero. He is out-shown by fellow cast members Anthony Andrews, Martin Shaw, Joss Ackland and Anton Diffring, who makes a coldly majestic Heydrich. Curiously, the film contains many extended sequences involving Heydrich in which German is spoken without the benefit of sub-titles. Whether this was the case in the original film, I can't say, but it does make for some irritation on the DVD version. Also, the Czech characters all speak English, but as they are portrayed by American and British actors without any attempt to form a common accent, it gives the film's dialogue a Tower of Babel effect. Nevertheless, Operation Daybreak is a memorable movie about real-life heroes that deserves to be seen by a wider audience. Hopefully, the Warner Archive release will achieve just that.
(Lewis Gilbert discusses Operation Daybreak and his other war movies in an exclusive interview with Matthew Field in issue #18 of Cinema Retro)
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I’ve always viewed “Cocoon” as the type of film that
Steven Spielberg would have been very happy to have made. It has all the
hallmarks of a Spielberg movie: a light hearted, warm, science fiction fantasy
that is also extremely enjoyable and a perfect piece of innocent entertainment.
It was, of course, Ron Howard who picked up the project, a relative newcomer in
directorial terms. However, his stock was rising based on the very popular
romantic comedy/fantasy “Splash” (1984) with Tom Hanks and Daryl Hannah. It was
certainly enough to attract the attention of producers Richard Zanuck and David
Brown at 20th Century Fox who were happy to take on the ambitious Howard and
his vision for the film.
Given that the film was targeted at teenage audiences amid
the mid-80s trend for special effects-
laden spectacles, “Cocoon” managed to capture the imagination of a much wider
audience. At the centre of “Cocoon” was a senior cast, set in a retirement home
- elements of which may not at first appear to be particularly appealing to
teenage audiences. However, at its core there is a genuine heart, a story that
raises questions about life, death, existence and destiny. It is a
heart-warming tale that successfully blends a touching story of life with
fantasy, and as a result, managed to capture the hearts of audiences young and
Approximately 10,000 years ago, a peaceful alien species
from the planet Antarea set up an outpost on Earth, an island later to be known
as Atlantis. When Atlantis was submerged by the ocean, a number of aliens were
left behind and kept in hibernation within cocoons at the bottom of the
Atlantic Ocean. The story begins as a group of Antareans returns to Earth to
collect them. Disguising themselves as humans, their leader Walter (Brian
Dennehy) rents a house with a swimming pool, and charges the water with a life
force to give the cocooned Antareans enough energy to survive the trip home.
They charter a boat from a local named Jack (Steve Guttenberg) who helps them
retrieve the cocoons. After the aliens reveal themselves to him and explain what's
going on, he decides to help them.
Next door to the house the Antareans are renting is Sunny
Shores, a retirement home. Three of its residents, Ben (Wilford Brimley),
Arthur (Don Ameche) and Joe (Hume Cronyn), often trespass to swim in the pool
next door, thinking the house to be unoccupied. They absorb some of the life
force, making them feel younger and stronger and with their youth seemingly revitalised.
“Cocoon” boasts a wonderful cast lead by the three senior
citizens residing at the Sunny Shores retirement home: Brimley, Ameche and
Cronyn. Maureen Stapleton, Gwen Verdon
and the beautiful Jessica Tandy are also wonderful as their wives and partners
respectively, each of whom delivers a measured and memorable performance. Brian
Dennehy as Walter is a perfect piece of casting, a subtle and touching
performance which proves that underplaying a role can also be very effective. Guttenberg
also puts in a nice little turn as Jack, who again delivers a nicely balanced, humorous
performance without ever allowing his delivery to run wild.
Eureka’s Special 30th Anniversary Blu-ray is presented in
a new high definition transfer and looks very nice indeed. Framed in its
original aspect ratio of 1.85:1, the film has never looked better. Previous
editions have often appeared a little soft and grainy, but Eureka’s
presentation (whilst preserving a fine amount of natural grain) is smooth,
clean and nicely detailed. Night scenes in particular, almost all of which were
shot on location, are not drenched in deep blacks, but nevertheless look vastly
better. The colour grading procedure has certainly enhanced its look and the
film benefits hugely from the process and the time afforded it. The picture
does (perhaps naturally) spring to life in far more vivid detail during the
sunny Florida daylight scenes and the ocean bound journeys aboard Jack’s boat.
As with any major film star who dies young, Jean Seberg has become a cult of personality to some film fans, partly due to the fact that she died in Paris from an overdose of barbiturates at age 40 in 1979. Her death was ruled a suicide but conspiracy theories still abound because she was deemed a political radical by the FBI due to her association with far left wing causes and her support of the Black Panther party. On screen, however, Seberg's characters were generally not radical, although her breakthrough film did find her as the female lead in Godard's classic 1960 crime flick Breathless. Still, there were some hints of Seberg's liberated woman persona in her early career. One such film was In the French Style, a largely forgotten 1963 production based on Irwin Shaw's novel. Shaw wrote the screenplay and the film was directed by Robert Parrish, a respected veteran of the movie industry who never enjoyed a career-defining major hit. (The closest he came was directing segments of the bloated 1967 spoof version of Casino Royale.) The movie opens in Paris with Seberg as Christina James, a 19 year old free spirited girl from Chicago who has come to the City of Light to hone her skills as a painter. In the process of trying to acclimate herself to the metropolitan lifestyle, she meets Guy ((Philippe Forquet), a headstrong, sometimes arrogant 21 year-old who is nonetheless charismatic and quite handsome. He woos Christina and before long, they are a couple swept up in a whirlwind romance. However, it isn't long before there are strains due in part to their impoverished lifestyle. Guy, being a typical guy, tries to get Christina into bed, but she says when it happens, it will be on her terms and conditions. When the big moment arises, Guy's romantic evening turns into a disaster because he only has enough money to rent a room at a flophouse hotel without heat. In the course of the strained evening, Guy confesses to Christina that he cannot perform sexually because he is too nervous. He makes a shocking confession: he is actually a 16 year old high school boy and a virgin at that. While this does bring the story into a completely unexpected direction, it's the one element of the film that strains credibility largely due to the fact that Forquet was actually 23 years old at the time and looks it. Nevertheless, this plot device takes us away from what was shaping up as a conventional "boy meets girl" romance and plunges the viewer into unknown waters.
The story then jumps ahead in time and we find Christina now in her early twenties and very much in step with the Parisian lifestyle. She is the toast of her neighborhood's social scene and the belle of the ball in terms of attracting male suitors. In a rather progressive depiction of a single woman for the year 1963, it is made abundantly clear that Christina has her pick of lovers and routinely engages in short-term sexual affairs. Every time she meets the "right man", it turns out that differences in their lifestyles prevent them from enjoying a traditional relationship. Her father (very well played by Addison Powell) visits her from Chicago and, again Shaw's script goes against the conventional depiction of father and daughter relationships generally seen in movies during this era. Instead of being a square old fuddy duddy, Dad is actually amused by his daughter's somewhat hedonistic lifestyle and he asks her how many lovers she has had. "A couple", she replies, but it becomes clear that both of them regard that as a drastic understatement. When her father asks to see the paintings she has been working on for years, he gently informs her that they are below the quality he had expected. He cautions her that her party-filled lifestyle may be compromising her potential. Christina objects and two part company under a strain, but it becomes clear that her father's words have resonated with her and that it might be time to develop plans for a more productive career path.
All of that changes when she has a chance encounter with Walter Beddoes (Stanley Baker), a hard-drinking international newspaper journalist. They enjoy a torrid affair and fall in love but, alas, fate rears its ugly head once again when Walter's requirements to travel extensively takes him away from Christina for months at a time. He confesses to her that, while abroad "I don't live like a monk". Christina says she accepts that he will have other lovers but makes it clear that she will, too. Such behavior from a young couple was rarely depicted so honestly on screen in 1963, an era in which sexually assertive women were generally painted as floozies. By the time Walter returns from a three month stint in Africa, he finds Christina has a new boyfriend, an American doctor from San Francisco (James Leo Herlihy), who she says she intends to marry. She has a civilized lunch with both men, as Walter tries to persuade her to resume her affair with him. She confesses that she has seen her share of former lovers ultimately drop her to marry the girl of her dreams, a status she somehow never attains in their eyes. This climactic sequence left me a bit disappointed because in the end, Christina- that most liberated of young women- decides to throw in the towel to become a doctor's wife and live in San Francisco. However, director Parrish does afford us the nagging possibility that she knows she is selling out by doing so.
In the French Style is a very worthwhile experience. The Parisian locations add immeasurably to its pleasures and the crisp B&W cinematography Michel Kelber is impressive, as is the Joseph Kosma's atmospheric score. Not much happens dramatically in the film. You keep waiting for some earth-shaking development to emerge but it never does. However, that's part of the movie's charm. It recalls an era in which studios routinely backed small films with fine actors (they are all wonderful here) and gave them intelligent dialogue and direction.
Twilight Time has issued an impressive limited edition (3,000) Blu-ray edition that does justice to the fine B&W cinematography. The bonus extras include an isolated score track, informative commentary by film historians Lem Dobbs, Julie Kirgo and Nick Redman, a theatrical trailer and a collector's booklet with liner notes by Kirgo.
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The name James A. Fitzpatrick might be meaningless to all but film scholars today but decades ago his popular travelogues provided movie-goers valuable glimpses of exotic sights around the globe. Fitzpatrick broke into the movie business in the silent era and occasionally produced feature films but he's primarily known for his hundreds of travel shorts that were screened in movie theaters prior to the main feature. In the era before television, Fitzpatrick's productions represented a rare opportunity for the general public to see actual footage of historic places and different cultures. Best of all, Fitzpatrick had the foresight to film these excursions in Technicolor, a process that ensured that the film stock never faded. Thus, the shorts look as impressive today as they did decades ago. It should be noted that some of these shorts were filmed by cinematographers who would become legendary including Winton C. Hoch and Jack Cardiff. The Warner Archive has released thirty of Fitzpatrick's "Traveltalks" shorts as a three DVD set. The years covered range from 1935 through the mid 1940s. Fitzpatrick himself provided the narration for each film, immodestly billing himself as "The Voice of the Globe". He also employed a full orchestra to enhance the films with lush musical scores and occasionally laughably corny vocal renditions of old standards. Nevertheless, there is a timeless quality to the facts and sights unveiled in the shorts and modern audiences can still learn much from them. However, there is a far more poignant value to them. Fitzpatrick shot these films when the world was gearing up for the unthinkable: a second world war. Although Fitzpatrick deftly tiptoes between the international tensions (who wants to see a depressing travelogue?), the back story to what he had to ignore is rather fascinating. A 1935 short dedicated to modern Tokyo presents the city as a booming metropolis filled with serene scenes and an innocent population. However, the film was shot when the militaristic government of Japan had already invaded China and was committing genocide and other horrendous atrocities. Other shorts present peaceful scenes of great countires in days prior to the coming war. We see Czechoslovakia and Austria immediately prior to their takeover by Hitler's hordes. The World's Fair Exhibition in Paris is shown as a symbol of international brotherhood and cooperation even as war clouds were building over Europe. Within a year of this film being shot, France and England would be at war with Germany and shortly thereafter, "The City of Light" itself would be occupied by German troops. There is a poignancy in watching the innocent people depicted in these films today and one can't help but wonder just how many of them didn't survive the coming conflict. France alone would lose 250,000 military personnel in the battle against Nazism. Japan would lose hundreds of thousands of civilians before the war ended. On a more cheerful level, the set presents many travelogues of areas not affected by war: the mainland USA and South America, primarily. (Once the war broke out, Fitzpatrick seemed to restrict his films these geographic areas.) A 1935 short about Los Angeles is striking if only because of the lack of congestion and traffic. A short dedicated to southern Florida decades before Disney's influence emphasizes Miami Beach and such quaint sites as the Everglades and Silver Springs. Those films shot in the USA during the war years only reinforce that America largely escaped the horrors inflicted on other parts of the globe. Although 400,000 American servicemen would die in the conflict, the mainland remained isolated from invasion and day-to-day life largely carried on as normal, as illustrated in these shorts.
The DVD set is a remarkable time capsule that will appeal to anyone with an interest in history and travel. Well done, Mr. Fitzpatrick.
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It may seem hard to believe in an era in which every personality on screen seems to be wearing a cape and tights but there are some intelligent films still being made for discriminating, mature viewers. The problem is that you often have to search to find them. Case in point: "The Lady in the Van", a 2015 British comedy/drama that found its intended audience but was relegated largely to the art house circuits in big cities. The movie is about as off-beat as you can imagine in terms of the central premise but we are told that it is mostly based on fact. Alex Jennings plays the film's real-life British playwright Alan Bennett, on whose experience the screenplay is based. Jennings was an aspiring playwright in 1974 when he moved to a relatively upscale neighborhood in London's Camden Town section. Bennett was enjoying some success with a show on the West End and was leading a fairly comfortable existence, though - at least in the film- he was frustrated by the fact that he no significant other. As a gay man, his unease was understandable- until 1969 homosexuality was a felony crime in Britain. Coming out of the closet was not something most gay people felt comfortable doing. The film presents Bennett creating his own live-in companion- an imaginary alter-ego with whom he trades barbs and discusses problems ranging from writers block to everyday household chores. His life takes an unexpected turn when a homeless woman arrives on his street driving a barely operable old van. She identifies herself as Mary Shepherd and is about as lovable as a tarantula. Mary becomes the talk of the posh neighborhood, moving her van occasionally to park in front of various houses. Some of the locals are kindly to her while others clearly disdain her, but all of them tolerate her presence and gets used to her. Mary keeps her "alternate side of the street" lifestyle going for several years. The van is her abode and she defends it with pride. She accepts handouts from neighbors but her prickly nature never results in her uttering the words "Thank you". Alan, like most of the locals, regards her with a bit of frustration as well as fascination. When a parking ordinance forces her van off the street, Alan offers his driveway as a place she can park "temporarily". You know how these things go. Before long, Mary has not only established the driveway as a permanent residence but is also making various demands on Alan to allow more privileges. Slowly, the months turn into years and both become accustomed to the bizarre living arrangements.(Mary never enters his home and the resulting effect on her hygiene is played for laughs). The two have a sometimes uneasy relationship but the gentle, meek Alan begins to care about her more than he will even admit to his alter-ego. He is wracked by guilt because his own aging mother is slowly deteriorating both mentally and physically and he feels guilty about having to have her committed to a nursing home. He uses Mary has her proxy so that an act of kindness towards her might help Alan alleviate some of his guilt about his mother.
Ultimately Alan's relationship turns to caregiver. Some of Mary's demands are reasonable (jury-rigging wires from his house so she can watch TV in her van) while others are too extravagant to comply with (constructing a tent so she can indulge in more hoarding of useless objects.) He also learns what the viewer has known from the opening, shocking frames: that Mary is hiding a terrible secret and lives in constant fear of being arrested. She, too, is wracked by guilt because she once killed a motorcyclist in an accident and fled the scene. We also learn that she is being blackmailed by an eyewitness (Jim Broadbent) to the event. Gradually, Alan sees her as a source of material for a writing project. He tracks down her only living relative, a brother who is somewhat estranged from her. He relates some remarkable details about her once-promising life and how it all went wrong when she sacrificed a musical career in order to join a convent. (The Catholic Church and religion play key roles in her life.) Nothing overly dramatic takes place in the leisurely-paced story but there is something remarkable the fact that Alan Bennett allowed this eccentric woman to spend a full 15 years residing in his driveway until her death in 1989.
Bennett published a journal about the experience titled "The Lady in the Van". In 1999, he adapted it into a play starring Maggie Smith. It was a major hit, running over 900 performances on the West End. The play's director, Nicholas Hynter, is a frequent collaborator of Bennett's, having worked with him on adapting Bennett's plays "The History Boys" and "The Madness of King George" for the screen. In 2015 they finally brought "The Lady in the Van" to the screen as well with Maggie Smith reprising the title role. Smith was now of an age where she could be even more convincing as the elderly eccentric and Bennett ensured that the movie was shot in the very house in Camden Town where the actual events took place. For all its charming aspects and the fact that the production presents two extraordinary performances by Smith and Alex Jennings, the end result is a mixed bag that you expect to move you in a more emotional way than it actually does. This is largely because Smith's character remains crusty, self-centered and pretty much an ingrate throughout. In the film's final moments, which details her death, Bennett and Hytner do manage to convey a softening of her persona in the final moments of her life but they then attempt to make her more lovable with an ill-advised funeral sequence in which we see the ghost of Miss Shepherd assuring us that she has found happiness in Eternity. The scene smacks of being a well-intentioned gimmick and seems somewhat out of place with the rest of the film. Jennings, known primarily as a stage actor, gives a marvelous performance as Bennett and manages the considerable achievement of not being overshadowed by the great Dame Maggie. The film starts off rather weakly but becomes more engrossing and satisfying if you stick with it. This is largely due to Bennett slowly unveiling key details about Miss Shepherd's challenges in life and the fact that she missed out on a promising musical career. Although Smith is very amusing in the comedic sequences, she is even more impressive in these dark, dramatic scenes. The end result is a mixed bag. The film is to be commended for presenting that rarest of screen experiences nowadays: an intelligent story aimed at adult audiences who seek fine performances and dialogue rather than mindless explosions. There are uneven and unsatisfying patches throughout but the performances alone merit it for recommended viewing.
Sony has released an impressive special edition Blu-ray of "The Lady in the Van". There are numerous featurettes including extensive interviews with Maggie Smith, Alan Bennett, Alex Jennings and Nicholas Hytner that give some interesting perspectives on the long history of the real life events that inspired the play and film. There is also a director's commentary with Hytner and some deleted scenes, some of which clearly show that Miss Shepherd is actually nt only extremely eccentric but is also suffering from dementia, as evidenced by her belief that she can be elected Prime Minister.
We've extended kudos to Impulse Pictures for their dedication to rescuing obscure adult films from bygone eras and giving them first-rate DVD presentations. As we've said many times previously, whether you love or hate these productions, they did play an important role in American pop culture from the late 1960s through the mid-1980s, when adult filmmaking largely switched to made-for-video mode to accommodate the overwhelming desire for porn in the era when VCRs became standard household fixtures. While many of the Impulse releases offer some surprising signs of talent and even occasionally impressive production values, the 1972 biker flick "Bad, Bad Gang" is about as erotic as one of those high school "health" films we were all forced to watch in days of old. There's plenty of sex, to be sure, but there is virtually no other reason for the movie to exist. Much of it appears to have been shot in a hurry perhaps because the use of outdoor locations might have resulted in passersby reporting the goings-on to the police. The problem begins with the bizarre, childlike title. "Bad, Bad" might be acceptable if you're referring to ol' Leroy Brown, but for the title of a movie, it's downright bizarre. The film starts off with its one impressive aspect: well-filmed sequences of a sleazy biker gang racing down desert highways, with some effective shots due to cameras being mounted on cycles. Things deteriorate rapidly as the bruisers in the gang stop to pick up two teenage girls who are hitchhiking. They are no shrinking violets and seem downright enthused about being whisked away to parts unknown for activities that almost certainly won't involve lessons in decoupage. The bikers end up going to a remote location only to stumble upon a small camper with two young married couples who are enjoying a picnic. The bikers beat up the guys and kidnap the girls, who they subject to all sorts of sexual deprivations. The men rally and attempt to rescue them but are quickly overcome and are held captive and sexually abused by the biker women. Absurdly, two of the women take the two male captives off to another location by threatening them with tomahawks. However, the weapons soon disappear but the "captives" seem unaware of this, as they engage in sexual activities with their two tormentors- all the while neglecting the fact that they could easily overcome the two girls and rescue their wives, who are still being subjected to the whims of the sleazy male bikers.
"Bad, Bad Gang" is crudely shot and features editing that appears to have been achieved in a blender. Apparently, the film had been available previously in a badly cut version and this is the most complete its been seen on video. However, it seems likely that at least a couple of key scenes might still be missing. The Impulse transfer is appropriately gritty and grimy and the sex scenes (which include the requisite lesbian encounters) are badly shot and notably non-erotic despite being hard-core. The only "name" in the cast is Rene Bond, who built a following in adult movies. The DVD package includes some liner notes about the film that extol its alleged virtues in print so microscopic you'll need a telescope to read them. There are also excerpted sequences from the company's latest "42nd Street Forever" collection of silent grindhouse shorts from the 1970s.
The Warner Archive has released a slew of worthwhile 60s spy movies and TV series lately. Among the under-rated gems is The Double Man, a 1967 Cold War thriller starring Yul Brynner, who gives a powerful performance as American intelligence agent Dan Slater. His teenaged son is killed while skiing in Switzerland and Slater suspects it was actually murder. He finds he's been lured to Alps as part of a complex plot to kill him and replace him with an enemy agent with his identical facial features and characteristics. The plot was covered with moss even at the time since it formed the basis of a two-part Man From U.N.C.L.E. episode, The Double Affair, that was released theatrically the previous year as The Spy With My Face. Still, this is a highly intelligent, gritty film with Brynner as the most hard-ass hero imaginable. Devoid of any humor, Slater suspects both friend and foe as he leaves no stone unturned in trying to thwart the plot. The film benefits from a good supporting cast including future Bond girl Britt Ekland who finds herself unable to distinguish between the two Slaters. Clive Revill and Anton Diffring are excellent in supporting roles. There are some spectacular aerial sequences photographed by the late great cameraman Johnny Jordan, whose work on On Her Majesty's Secret Service bears a strong resemblance to this film, though both movies suffer from the shoddy rear screen projection technology of the time. The score by Ernie Freeman is sometimes overly-bombastic, but in the aggregate, this is one of the better spy films of the era thanks in no small part to the direction of Franklin J. Schaffner, who would win the Oscar several years later for Patton.
The transfer is crisp and clean and the DVD features the original theatrical trailer.
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Turner Classic Movies has released three Alan Ladd titles in a set titled "Alan Ladd: The 1940s Collection". Here is the official press release:
Handsome leading man Alan Ladd found success in the 1940s
and ‘50s, first as the tough guy in several films noir co-starring Veronica
Lake and then as the stoic hero in Westerns such as Shane (1953). Turner
Classic Movies and Universal are proud to present this three-film collection
that showcases Ladd’s talents in a range of genres from thriller to adventure,
as well as the work of such directors as Irving Pichel and Frank Tuttle, and
writers the likes of Richard Maibaum and Seton I. Miller. LUCKY JORDAN (1942)
Directed by Frank Tuttle (who also directed Ladd’s breakthrough film This Gun
for Hire the same year), LUCKY JORDAN stars Ladd as a racketeer who gets
drafted into the US Army and will do anything to get out of it—even go AWOL. As
he tries to escape, he soon finds himself dealing with a backstabbing
second-in-command, a patriotic WAC who wants him to change his ways and enemy
spies in this comedic crime thriller co-starring Helen Walker. TWO YEARS BEFORE
THE MAST (1946) Ladd takes to the high seas in this adventure film based on the
1834 travel book by Richard Henry Dana Jr. that exposed the conditions of
sailors aboard merchant ships. Ladd stars as Charles Stewart, the spoiled son
of a ship magnate who gets shanghaied onto one of his father’s ships. He spends
the next year under the tyrannical rule of the ship’s captain and eventually
finds the courage to lead the crew to mutiny. The film was directed by John
Farrow and costars Brian Donlevy, William Bendix and Howard Da Silva. O.S.S
(1946) Writer Richard Maibaum is most famous for his work on the James Bond
series (he wrote 13 of the franchise’s first 15 films), and his ability to
write taut spy thrillers is on display in this film starring Ladd and Geraldine
Fitzgerald. Set during World War II, Ladd and Fitzgerald play members of an
American spy ring who are sent into France with the objective of destroying the
French railway system. But as their mission gets more complicated, Ladd must
decide between obeying his commands and being a hero.
My Name is Nobody is many things: a 1973 spoof of the “young and old gunslingers” sub-genre that began with For a Few Dollars More; Henry Fonda’s
last Western (and Sergio Leone’s to an extent); and even a eulogy on the dying
of the Spaghetti Western itself. Spearheaded by Sergio Leone himself, Nobody was directed by Tonino Valerii (Day of Anger) and teams Once Upon a Time in the West’s Henry
Fonda with They Call Me Trinity’s
Terence Hill. As a combo of Leone’s straight westerns and Hill’s “Beans
Westerns” (a slang term for comedic Spaghettis) it amounts to quite the
crossover film and could’ve easily been called “Once Upon A Time in the West
They Called Me Trinity.” While it is never as funny as Hill’s two Trinity films or as epic as Leone’s
“horse operas” it is none the less a whimsical delight and a classic of the
Nobody has been released
from Image Entertainment (who previously released the DVD) on Blu-ray at a
suggested retail of $24.98. This pricey “40th Anniversary Edition”
unfortunately boasts no extras of any kind, not even a trailer. The big
question for collectors then becomes: without any special features is it worth
the upgrade? The beautiful transfer and crisp audio make it a resounding “Yes!”,
as both easily outclass the DVD. Thanks to the clear print I was able to notice
several details that escaped me during previous DVD viewings. For clarity, the
print does have its fair share of scratches, but for some of us (myself
included) the scratches aren’t always unwelcome and add a little nostalgia. On
the surface it may appear that there is no difference between this and the old
DVD release due to virtually identical packaging, but Image did use an original
Italian print for this release as the title credits on the Blu-ray are all in
Italian rather than English, as was the case with the DVD. Like the DVD it also
runs the full 116 minutes rather than the cut 112 minute version which also
exists. Though pricey and devoid of extras the excellent transfer makes it a
worthy Blu-ray for Spaghetti Western fans.
It’s night and a ship moves in the water through a dark
curtain of fog. We see George Raft as Captain Johnny Angel on the bridge
peering out into the pea soup as another vessel looms ahead suddenly in the
darkness, abandoned and drifting in the water. Raft sounds the foghorn but there’s no
response. He boards the derelict with several of his crew to search for clues
as to what happened. They go below to the captain’s quarters and finds it
wrecked. A picture lies on a desk in a shattered frame. Raft picks it up and we
see it is a picture of him as a younger man standing next to an older one. A
crew member enters the cabin and says there is blood below, and water in the
hold, but no signs of life.
“Maybe your father’s okay,” the crewman says. “Maybe—“
“He’s dead,” Raft replies tersely.
These first six-minutes of RKO’s “Johnny Angel” (1945), consisting
mostly of image and sound, set up the mood, tone, and basic plot and characters
with barely any exposition at all. Everything we need to know is shown, not
told—classic noir moviemaking. The lean, mean script for “Johnny Angel” was
written by pulp fiction veteran Steve Fisher, who also wrote other film noir classics such as “I Wake Up
Screaming” (1941) (he also wrote the novel), “The City that Never Sleeps”
(1953), “I Wouldn’t Be in Your Shoes” (1948), and “Lady in the Lake” (1947). He
wrote taut, tense, dramatic stories where not a word was wasted. Director Edwin
L. Marin was known primarily for westerns and movies like “A Christmas Carol.”
But earlier in his career he had turned out Philo Vance mysteries. Like Fisher,
he knew his way around a crime story.
After the opening scenes, Captain Angel learns that not
only is his father dead, but a shipment of gold bullion smuggled aboard the
ship has been hijacked. The bulk of the story takes place in New Orleans’
French Quarter, where Angel tails a mysterious French woman named Paulette (Signe
Hasso) who stowed away on his father’s ship and may be the only person who
knows what happened. He’s assisted in his search by an offbeat character played
by songwriter Hoagy Carmichael in the role of a cab driver named Celestial.
It’s a role somewhat similar to the one he played in Howard Hawks’ “To Have and
Have Not” (1944). Of course, Hoagy managed to get a scene into the film where
he sings one of his songs, “Memphis in June.”
There is a wide assortment of other strange characters.
George “Gusty” Gustafson (Marvin Miller) is the owner of the ship line Angel works
for. Gusty is an emotional cripple dominated by the female nurse (Margaret
Wycherly) who raised him and the glamorous wife (Claire Trevor) who’s cheating
on him with night club owner Sam Jewell (Lowell Gilmore). Miller and Trevor
turn in first rate performances. Miller seems creepier than usual while being
manipulated first by the domineering mother figure and then the wily blonde
femme fatale. Trevor seems even more hard-hearted than usual in this role. In
contrast to these weird characters, Raft appears as the one upright, honest guy
in town. His father has been killed, a gold bullion shipment has been stolen
from his ship and Angel wants justice.
Raft, over the years, got his share of criticism as an
actor of limited talent, who usually turned in a stiff, wooden performance. But
what he really did in all his films was play George Raft. He perfected the role
of the coin-tossing tough guy— stoic, cynical, a man of few words. He did what
Alan Ladd and John Waybe did. He created an image, found a niche, and stuck
with it. “Johnny Angel” is one of his better roles.
The plot follows Angel’s search for the French girl, the
development of a romance between Angel and Paulette, and a final showdown with
the person behind the murder and hijacking. The film moves along somewhat
leisurely and might have been improved if Marin had stepped up the pace a bit.
But there’s something to be said for a film that takes its time, savors the
atmosphere, and seems to enjoy itself, in contrast to the mind-bending, ultra-violent
crime films made today.
Harry Wild’s wonderful black and white cinematography
really stands out in this production. Wild is credited with other noir classics
such as “Murder My Sweet” (1944), “Cornered” (1945), “The Big Steal” (1949),
and many others. His work here in the night scenes on the waterfront and in the
Latin Quarter are excellent. The few contrasting daylight scenes in the
countryside beyond the city add texture and mood to the film.
“Johnny Angel” also has a beautiful, evocative score
composed by Lee Harline. The right music was essential to this film, which has
so many scenes without dialog.
The picture and sound quality of this Warner Archive burn-on-demand
DVD are good. Unfortunately, there are no extras, not even a trailer. Even so, “Johnny Angel” is highly recommended.
Cinema Retro has received the following press release:
favorite summertime tradition whenShark
Week: Jawsome Encountersarrives
on DVD (plus Digital) on June 14 from Lionsgate. For the past 28 years,
Discovery Channel has captured the world’s attention with Shark Week,anannual televised event that
explores the ocean’s most magnificent creatures. Featuring 13 fintastic
episodes from the 2014 season (never before released on DVD) just in time for
the newest season of Shark Week broadcast on Discovery.Discovery’s
annual event is bigger than ever! Dive deep into the mystery of “zombie sharks”
in New Zealand, get up close and personal with Tiger Sharks lurking below the
surface in idyllic Hawaii, and explore Great Whites off the coast of Australia.
The only commonality among the films of director Nicolas Roeg is that there is no commonality. Roeg graduated from being one of the industry's most respected and innovative cinematographers to becoming an esteemed filmmaker in his own right. Among his disparate productions: the London crime film "Performance", the bizarre David Bowie starrer "The Man Who Fell to Earth", the cult favorite "Bad Timing" and his most accomplished film, the adaptation of Daphne Du Maurier's supernatural novel "Don't Look Now", which ranks as one of the most atmospheric and terrifying movies ever made. By the early 1990s, however, Roeg's penchant for making avant garde films with limited boxoffice appeal- combined with his insistence on not compromising his artistic visions in the name of commerce- put him at odds with studio executives. His movies were largely appreciated by the art house cinema crowd but that didn't endear him to the studio bosses in the corner offices. One of Roeg's most bizarre, ambitious and expensive films was the little-seen and even less-remembered "Eureka", a 1983 production that was bedeviled by bad luck. First the basics: Roeg initially approached screenwriter Paul Mayersberg to adapt a book titled "Who Killed Sir Harry Oakes?" by Marshall Houts. Sir Harry Oakes may have faded into historical obscurity but in 1943 he was certainly one of the most famous men in the world- and had been for two decades. It all began when Oakes, an American by birth, went north into the wilds of Canada in his quest to prospect for gold. He doggedly pursued this ambition for fifteen years before stumbling upon what became the greatest discovery and claim for gold in North American history. Overnight Oakes became one of the richest men on earth. He later moved to the Bahamas where he lived comfortably on a large estate with his wife and daughter. Enamored by the British gentry he interacted with, Oakes changed his citizenship and became a subject of England. Big money buys impressive friends and Oakes was quite chummy with the Duke of Windsor, who had made a wee bit of a splash himself a few years earlier when he was known as King Edward VIII- yes, that King Edward VIII, who abdicated the throne in order to marry the love of his life. Edward was by then relegated to being the Governor-General of the Bahamas, some theorized to get him off the front pages. Between his scandalous marriage and the fact that he was deemed an appeaser to Hitler in the lead up to the war with Germany, which was now raging, the Duke was not "Flavor of the Month" in his native England. Still, he and Harry Oakes hit it off rather well and before long Harry was knighted, ostensibly because of his sizable contributions to charity, but some theorized the Duke had pulled some strings on his behalf. Sir Harry's bliss was short-lived. In 1943, he was brutally murdered in his own bed. How brutal was the crime? Well, he was bludgeoned, tarred and feathered, burned alive and beheaded. Clearly, at least one person in his orbit was not very enamored of him and it was decided that the person who liked him least was his son-in-law, who Harry had virtually disowned. A sensational trial took place that resulted in breathless international coverage but the suspect was found to be not guilty on the basis of flimsy evidence. The sensational case remains technically unsolved to this day, though amateur sleuths still debate who the real culprit was and what his motive might have been.
Nicolas Roeg was understandably intrigued by this story and was delighted when screenwriter Paul Mayersberg had also read the book that Roeg wanted him adapt for the screen. He, too, had longed to make a film of it. With the two men in synch, they set out to make a linear retelling of the remarkable characters and events pertaining to Sir Harry's life. However, they realized that since several of the major players in his life were still alive, the production could be plagued by lawsuits. Thus, they decided to give fictitious names to the characters. This also liberated them in terms of using artistic license when desirable, as they were no longer attempting to present a purely factual study of Sir Harry's life and death. It also liberated Roeg by allowing him to bring more esoteric elements into the production. The central character was now named Jack McCann (Gene Hackman) and our first view of him is indeed striking: he in embroiled in a violent struggle with another man in the midst of a raging blizzard in the Canadian wilderness. An unidentified woman, presumably the other man's wife, pleads for the men to stop fighting and we learn that Jack, who has been enraged by something that is never explained, is splitting up his prospecting partnership with the other man. He eventually storms off into the intimidating landscape to continue to pursue his goal of finding a major strike. Ultimately he does just that by literally falling into a fortune when he slips through a crevice and finds himself in an underground cave that is literally raining gold dust. He rejoices in his triumph but his happiness is short-lived. He returns to the bordello where the love of his life, a local hooker and oracle (Helena Kallianiotes) is literally on her death bed and she dies in his arms. It's the first in a string of unfortunate incidents that will plague Jack's life. The scene then abruptly switches to twenty years later when we find Jack comfortably residing in his Bahamian estate named, appropriately enough, Eureka. He's a hot-tempered man prone to violent outbursts. The only calming influence in his life is his twenty year-old beautiful daughter Tracy (Theresa Russell), who he clearly adores but who also brings him consternation because of her strong, independent ways. Tracy has married Claude Malliot Van Horn (Rutger Hauer), a handsome, charismatic European gigolo. Jack can immediately see through Claude's motives and calls him out for being an opportunist who is using Tracy to get access to the McCann fortune. The rift results in Tracy becoming estranged from Jack and her mother, Helen (Jane Lapotaire), a weak-willed woman who Jack treats as he would the hired help. A parallel subplot finds Jack being pressured by his friend and business associate Charles Perkins (Ed Lauter) to sell his beloved estate to a group of American gangsters headed by a man named Mayaofsky (Joe Pesci) and his second-in-command Aurello D'Amato (Mickey Rourke). Seems they want to expand their operations to the island Jack resides on and consider his land crucial to their plans. Typically, Jack not only rejects their offer but insults them in the process, leading to the gangsters deciding to take strong-arm tactics against him. In the film's most disturbing scene (and there are several), Jack is murdered in his bed by being bludgeoned, tortured with a blowtorch and (we learn later) beheaded. It's an incredibly gruesome sight to behold, as Roeg holds nothing back from the viewer except the decapitation. (We should be thankful for small favors). The balance of the film concerns the resulting murder trial, which mirrors the real life case in that Jack's son-in-law was arrested and charged with the crime. He had motive and opportunity- but so did many of his enemies including the gangsters.
"Eureka" may have been an ambitious undertaking but it's also a highly unsatisfying one. The script provides us with a dearth of sympathetic characters. With the exception of Tracy (who is superbly played by Roeg's then-wife Theresa Russell, who made numerous other films with him), there isn't a single other character with any admirable traits. Hackman delivers a powerful performance as McCann but the character is sketchy. We all know money doesn't always buy happiness but we never get to the root cause of his dissatisfaction with life and everyone around him. The supporting cast is equally excellent with Rutger Hauer giving one of the best performances of his career as the vain, almost effeminate pretty boy whose charm makes Tracy blind to his vulgarities. These are demonstrated in a very haunting sequence in which Claude and two female companions secretly attend a voodoo ritual that becomes a pagan-like orgy which leaves everyone involved disgraced and emotionally scarred. Joe Pesci and Mickey Rourke are impressive as the gangsters, with Pesci uncharacteristically underplaying his role, while Ed Lauter does the same as Jack's wimpy friend Charlie. The main problem with "Eureka" is that Roeg values style over substance. The entire first section of the film involving Jack's quest for gold is compromised by Roeg dropping in metaphysical and supernatural aspects, implying that his seer girlfriend is somehow sending him psychic signals to find the gold even though this will inexplicably cost her her own life. Even when the story gets on more traditional footing in Jack's later years, Roeg still toys with the viewer by inserting artistic touches that are visually striking but which distract the audience and make things quite confusing to follow. At times it's hard to figure out who is who and what everyone's relationships and motivations are.Roeg also can't resist making numerous analogies between the characters of Jack McCann and Charles Foster Kane, though the comparisons seem a bit obvious and heavy handed. Having said that, the movie looks beautiful and Alex Thomson's cinematography is top-notch, as is the lush musical score by Stanley Myers.
If Jack McCann's fate seemed cursed, so did "Eureka" as a major film production. The movie was financed and was to be distributed by United Artists. However, during production the management team of the long-troubled studio changed and "Eureka" was treated as an orphan project that had been green lit by the previous regime. Not helping matters was the fact that a test screening proved to be very discouraging, with the audience overwhelmingly giving the quirky film a "thumbs down" verdict. UA sat on the movie for two years before giving it a very minor and abbreviated release, after which it fell into obscurity. Twilight Time has released the film as a special edition Blu-ray, limited to only 3,000 units- and kudos for them for doing so. Although the film is a misguided and unsatisfying enterprise, it still has enough impressive aspects to merit a look by any serious movie scholar. Bonus features include extensive on-camera interviews with screenwriter Paul Meyersburg, producer Jeremy Thomas and editor Tony Lawson. In listening to their reflections on the film (Mayersburg in particular), one gains far more insights into what Roeg was hoping to achieve and how we should view the characters. It's a tremendous help in terms of providing fresh perspectives but a casual viewer who sees a film in a theater should not have to seek out interviews with the movie makers in order to gain such information. The special edition also has a rare audio commentary track consisting of Roeg answering questions at the movie's world premiere. A theatrical trailer is also included, as is an informative booklet by film historian Julie Kirgo.
"Eureka" is an artistic failure in this writer's opinion but at least it's a fascinating one and certainly worth a look in order to draw your own conclusions.
The Warner Archive has released the previously-issued Paramount special DVD edition of The Family Jewels as a burn-to-order title, carrying over the extras from the previous release. The 1965 film is a tour de force for Jerry Lewis, who not only starred, but co-scripted, co-produced and directed the film. There lies the rub. Lewis was certainly a pioneer in his field, one of the first actors to create a second successful career as director. Prior to his achievements, most other actors who tried to helm major films gave up after one or two efforts. (Charles Laughton, Kirk Douglas, Walter Matthau, Burt Lancaster, John Wayne, Marlon Brando, etc.) However, the more overstretched the workaholic Lewis became, the more his work suffered. He is onscreen for almost every scene in this film, playing a variety of crazy characters. Eleven year old actress Donna Butterworth (charmingly billed as "Miss Donna Butterworth") is Donn Peyton, an orphaned rich kid whose guardians have instructed her that she must choose a new father from among her eccentric uncles, who she barely knows. Her best friend is Willard Woodward, her ever loyal chauffeur and caretaker. He's a bit of a klutz but his childlike manner ensures he's the perfect companion for the sophisticated young girl. It's Willard's job to escort Donna to various parts of the country to meet her uncles and see which one she will choose as her new dad. (Apparently, the uncles have no say in accepting this rather sobering responsibility). One is an ancient sea captain (Lewis in absurd makeup that makes him look like a cross between a mop and Captain Kangaroo), another is an unspeakably vile and self-centered circus clown, another is an inept airline pilot, while another is a bumbling boob with a British accent, while the remaining two are a gangster and a successful photographer of glamour models (Lewis reprises his Nutty Professor character of Julius for this role.) The plot, such as it is, exists only to afford Lewis any number of showcase moments as he wreaks mayhem on the screen as each of the idiotic uncles. Eventually, little Donna is kidnapped and held for ransom by the gangster uncle, thus allowing Willard the chauffeur to spring into action to save her. The climactic sequence in which Donna chooses the man she wants to be her new dad is as absurd as it is predictable. The film contains a couple of cringe-inducing examples of nepotism run wild. The first occurs in a sequence that exists for no other reason than to show Willard enjoying a new rock 'n roll album "coincidentally" released by Gary Lewis and the Playboys. The second occurrence finds the group awkwardly making a cameo in the film. Now I like dear old Gary and his Playboys (I just saw him recently in an oldies concert and he was damned good) but this kind of blatant promotion proves to be more a distraction than a delight.
I've always been an admirer of Jerry Lewis and even second rate Lewis (which this is) still has some charming elements to recommend. Lewis, whose best efforts were under the restraint of director Frank Tashlin, has no one to keep him in check here. His characterizations of the uncles range from genuinely amusing (the photographer, the pilot) to over-the-top even by Lewis standards (the sea captain, the gangster, the Brit). He makes one of the most startling impressions as the nasty clown in the only role not designed to be humorous. "Miss Butterworth" is a very capable and likable actress and is able to hold her own on screen with Lewis (no easy task). There are some nice bits by well loved character actors like Neil Hamilton, Sebastian Cabot, Gene Baylos and Robert Strauss. As with even the least of Lewis' movies, it never commits the cardinal sin of being dull.
The special edition features include a commentary track by Lewis and singer Steve Lawrence (!), who had nothing to do with the making of the film. However, Lewis realizes what this writer learned a long time ago: when you are recording commentary tracks for comedies, it always flows better when there is byplay between two people. Solo commentaries are best left for the likes of Citizen Kane and Schindler's List. There are such long gaps between some of Lewis' comments that I had to check to see if I had somehow switched out of the commentary mode. Lawrence is there to serve as Lewis's Ed McMahon, serving up softball questions and laughing in all the appropriate spots. Still, Lewis does provide some nice insights into the film. He says he was reunited some years ago with Donna Butterworth and was delighted to see her again (she had seven children). Lewis also tells us during a sequence in which he makes a seemingly impossible shot on a pool table that he was coached for two days by Minnesota Fats himself, which is a rather fascinating tidbit. The DVD also includes some casual screen tests of Lewis chatting with Butterworth and an original trailer. In all, an impressive package for a mid-range movie that nonetheless is worth viewing if for no other reason than to experience a bygone era in which family comedies could be made without bathroom humor and sex jokes.
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Nicholas Ray’s Knock on Any Door has been released as part of Sony Pictures’ Choice Collection. The 1949 film starred
Humphrey Bogart and a very young John Derek as a defense attorney and his
street punk of a client.It's not high
on the list of Bogart classics, and it's not even one of Ray's best (It was his
second film, made after the far superior They
Live By Night). Ray never particularly praised it, saying only that he
wished it could've been grimmer. Ray once pointed to Luis Bunuel’s LosOlvidados,
a film about Mexican slum kids that came out in 1950, as an example of the sort
of film KnockOn Any Door could've been.If Bunuel's film had come out first, Ray said, the inspiration would've
been there to make a more penetrating, realistic work. "I would have made
a hell of a lot better movie," Ray said.
On Any Door is usually labeled as
film noir, but nothing in the story has the subversive taint found in the best
noir films, and there’s none of the sleek, European ex-pat styling, unless one
counts the expressionistic lighting that cuts across the prison floor in a
scene where a convicted killer makes his long walk to the death house. KnockOn Any Door is more in line with the crime dramas turned out by
Warner Bros during the 1930s, which makes sense when one considers Bogart got
his start in those Warner Bros crime flicks, and it was Bogart’s film company,
Santana Productions, that produced Knock
On Any Door for Columbia Pictures.
While it wasn’t a
blockbuster, it performed well enough at the box office to establish Bogart’s
group as a serious production unit. It also gave us the quote, “Live fast, die
young, and have a good looking corpse,” a quote so nice it’s given to us twice
by the angry Nick Romano, played by Derek with all the seething anger he could
muster beneath his impossibly long eyelashes. According to Bogart biographer
Stefan Kanfer, Bogie tried to boost Derek's performance by pointing out that
most of the day's top actors, from James Cagney, to Edward G. Robinson, to
Bogart himself, had started out in crime movies, and that a good performance as
a heel is always eye catching. Not surprisingly, Derek goes for broke in the
film, to the point where he appears to be auditioning for a role in ReeferMadness. Lookat me! he seems to say in every scene, Look at my perfect profile, my quivering
lips; look at how twitchy I am when I play angry! I'm a real actor, damn it!
Derek was just a young,
inexperienced actor fresh out of the paratroopers when he was cast as
"Pretty Boy" Nick Romano, "the Skid Row Romeo.”Romano, like so many Hollywood hoodlums, is a
good boy shoved down the wrong path in life after losing his father at a young
age, and then growing up in poverty. Attorney Andrew Morgan (Bogart) has known
Romano for years and has watched him struggle. When Romano is accused of
killing a cop, Morgan hesitates to help. For one thing, the partners at his law
firm don't want the negative attention such a trial could bring. Morgan also
isn't sure if he believes Romano is innocent.
On Any Door is actually two films woven together. We
see Romano's tale in flashback, as he goes from being a mama’s boy, to a
typical slum rat and petty thief, to a beleaguered family man who drinks too
much and can't hold down a job. We also see Morgan's crisis of conscious as he
works up the enthusiasm to help him. Morgan, a former slum kid himself,
believes people should help themselves. Gradually, though, he sees Romano as a
kid worth saving. By the film's end, Morgan vows to spend the rest of his life
helping kids like Nick Romano.
The Nick Romano character
was a bit ahead of the times. He looks and carries himself like a character
from a mid-50s juvenile delinquent movie, perhaps The Wild One, or Blackboard
Jungle, or even Ray's own RebelWithout A Cause. There were even rumors,
possibly apocryphal, that Marlon Brando was interested in the Romano role. Hot
off his stage success in A Streetcar
Named Desire, Brando would've been an interesting Romano, and with his
realistic acting, might have booted this movie into something close to a
classic. According to different sources, Bogart was originally planning to make
the film under the direction of Mark Hellinger, with Brando as Romano. When
Hellinger died in Dec. 1947, the project was temporarily put aside until Bogart
started Santana Productions. Brando, who had wanted to work with Hellinger,
allegedly turned down Bogie’s offers, paving the way for Derek. (I find it a
little hard to believe that Bogart was, as some biographers claim, pursuing
Brando to any great degree, considering Bogart was notoriously disdainful of
the self-indulgent method actor types emerging out of New York. The thought of
Brando and Bogart together is fascinating, but just the fact that Bogart
eventually chose Derek, who was light years away from the brooding Brando,
makes me think the whole Brando rumor was nothing but a PR flack's pipe dream.)
Derek, with his greasy mop
of thick black hair, looks the part of a dashing street hood, but his acting is
too melodramatic and hasn't aged well. At the time, though, Derek made quite a
splash, inspiring Hollywood gossip columnist Luella Parsons to write, "I
predict John Derek will be one of the big screen stars of 1949."Stardom didn't quite find Derek, although he
acted regularly for many years, appearing in everything from westerns to bible
epics.He's probably best known to baby
boomers as the husband/mentor and sometime director of Bo Derek.Even when Derek died in 1998, most of the obits
focused on the couple's May/December romance, which was fodder for gossip rags
during Bo's brief run at movie stardom.
Bogart is Bogart, and not
much more needs to be said. There's an excellent scene where, suspecting Romano
has stolen 100-dollars from him, Bogart as Morgan lures Romano into an alley
and wrestles him to the ground, pinning him in the dirt with some sort of
commando hold and then rifling through Romano's pocket to get back his money.
"You're a two-bit punk, and that's all you'll ever be,” Bogart snarls,
spraying saliva everywhere.Always a
sprayer and a drooler, Bogart’s lips and chin practically shine with spittle in
this movie, especially during the courtroom scenes where he has long speeches
and no one around to wipe his mouth. Bogart’s forehead also perspires like crazy in
the court scenes, until he looks like he's performing on the bow of a ship
during a storm. He's great, though, and his closing speech to the jury is among
the better scenes of his late '40s period.Heavy-handed? Sure, but Bogart could always make these scenes
compelling, whereas if another actor tried it, the bit would come off as
"Knock OnAny Door is a
picture I'm kind of proud of, and I'll tell you why," Bogart the producer
said in a press release trumpeting the film. "It's a very challenging
story; different; off the beaten path. The novel (by Willard Motley) was
brutally honest. We've tried to be just as direct, just as forceful, in the
picture. I think you'll like it better that way. "
proclaimed Knock On Any Door "a
hard-hitting, tight melodrama," the film's Feb. 1949 release was greeted
by mixed reviews. The notion that criminals were not always responsible for
their actions was a relatively new and unpopular concept. The film was
occasionally praised for its direct look at life in the slums, but Bosley Crowther
of ‘The New York Times’ wasn't impressed. "Not only,” wrote Crowther, “are
the justifications for the boy's delinquencies inept and superficial...but the
nature and aspect of the hoodlum are outrageously heroized." Crowther, who
may have invented the word ‘heroized,’ added that the film was riddled with
"inconsistencies and flip-flops," and that "The whole thing
appears to be fashioned for sheer romantic effect, which its gets from its
'pretty-boy' killer, victim of society and blazing guns."
Actually, the film
could've used some more blazing guns. The opening sequence is a stunner, with a
cop being gunned down on a dark street, and a sudden swarming of the
neighborhood by cops rousting every local man with a criminal record. The scene
is a mere tease, though, for the film settles down into a talky courtroom drama
and doesn't quite live up to its opening blast. But give Bogie and his Santana
crew credit for choosing this project as their debut voyage. They jumped on the
juvenile delinquent bandwagon before it had really taken off, predating the
screwed-up teenager craze by five or six years. In a way, Derek’s Nick Romano was
a forerunner of James Dean, Elvis, Sal Mineo, and every other greasy hoodlum
with puppy dog eyes that would populate the movie screens of the 1950s.
The Choice Collection DVD offers no extra
features, but the transfer is crisp and clear, all the better to see Bogart
CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM THE CINEMA RETRO MOVIE STORE
upon a time before cell phones, social media and the internet, there was
citizens band radio. CB radio is closely associated with truckers and was used like
a cell phone to keep in contact and inform one another on things like speed
traps, accidents and road construction in the days before cell phone mobile apps.
Trucker lingo like, “10-4 Good Buddy” and “Breaker-Breaker” briefly became a
part of the common vernacular due to the popularity of “Trucker” songs that
played on Country & Western radio stations throughout the 1970s. Hollywood picked
up on the trucker craze incorporating the “Good Old Boy” element and Southern
charm with TV series like “Movin’ On” (1974-76) and “B.J. and the Bear” (1978-81)
and movies such as “Smoky and the Bandit” (1977) and its sequels.
of the big radio hits of that era was “Convoy”, released in 1975 by Bill Fries
(better known to fans as C.W. McCall). The song reached number one on both the
country and pop charts in the U.S. and on the pop charts in the U.K. Hollywood
purchased the rights to the song and hired one of the biggest directors of the era
to make a movie inspired by the hit novelty song. Co-financed by United Artists
and EMI, director Sam Peckinph was given total control over its production,
which in hindsight, was a mistake as the movie went millions of dollars over
budget and two months behind schedule. The film was released in 1978 just as
the trucker craze was fading in popularity, but the movie became the biggest
money maker of Peckinpah’s career. Getting the finished production to the
screen was no easy feat, as Peckinpah was dealing with his personal addictions
and apathy toward the movie, but he filled out the cast and crew with many
friends who worked with him on his previous film projects. This prevented
studio heads from firing him, as major cast members like Kristofferson
threatened to walk from the movie with him.
Kristofferson, Ali MacGraw, Ernest Borgnine and Burt Young all worked with
Peckinpah in some of his most memorable movies. “The Wild Bunch” alone is one
of the greatest westerns ever made and while one can debate the merits of
Peckinpah’s other films, they’re all stamped with the indelible Peckinpah brand.
Peckinpah was a flawed man living in the shadow of his greatest achievement,
“The Wild Bunch.” “Convoy” is no “Wild Bunch,” but few movies will surpass that
classic. “Convoy” was a troubled production from the moment Peckinpah was
hired. It started life as a lighthearted action comedy inspired by a hit
novelty song that doesn’t have much of a plot. Peckinpah saw the movie as a
modern day western with truckers as cowboys standing up to corrupt police,
unfair interstate trucking laws and incorporating political satire.
“Rubber Duck” Penwald (Kristofferson) is a non-affiliated trucker opposed to
unionization who has a long standing feud with New Mexico sheriff Lyle
“Cottonmouth” Wallace (Borgnine). The sheriff sets up speed traps in order to
extort cash from truckers as they pass through “his” county. Photo journalist
Melissa (MacGraw) is passing through and meets up with Rubber Duck at a local
truck stop. What Melissa and Rubber Duck see in each other, not to mention why she’s
in New Mexico, isn’t really clear. Melissa sells her car along with most of her
belongings, and ends up catching a ride with Rubber Duck after he and about a
dozen fellow truckers flee the scene of an old fashioned western bar fight with
the sheriff and his deputies.
follows is over 90 minutes of large trucks driving at high speeds being chased
by police through New Mexico desert highways and at times off road through the
desert in an apparent protest against unions and big government. The governor
and local media get in on the chase and the result is trucks crashing and
driving through lots of dust clouds. This eventually builds to the climax
involving a National Guard tank blasting Rubber Duck’s truck off a bridge. The
desert scenes are interesting with trucks driving through miles of desert in a
Peckinpah slow motion ballet. What else is there? Not a whole lot. The movie
has a paper thin plot that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.
is a serviceable leading man and, as depicted in the poster art, has his shirt
off a lot of the time. Burt Young is Bobby “Pig Pen” and Cassie Yates is truck
stop waitress Violet. Peckinpah cast a diverse group of actors including
Franklyn Ajaye as Spider Mike and Madge Sinclaire as Widow Woman. There’s a
racial element introduced as Mike is jailed and beat up by the sheriff’s
deputies. Widow Woman ends up sitting in the middle seat between Billy and
Whitey Hughes throughout most of the movie after her truck tips over during a
sharp turn. This on location accident was incorporated into the story and the
result is Widow Woman hitching a ride with the other truck. I think that’s one
of the big problems with a movie about truckers – too many shots of characters
sitting in a truck. There are a couple of scenes where everyone gets to stretch
their legs at a truck stop, but that’s where the trucker movie stops being a
is not for everyone, but it does have its moments. It’s a Sam Peckinpah movie and
that has to be worth something. It’s well known that Peckinpah was dealing with
alternating bouts of alcohol and cocaine addiction throughout his career which
certainly had a definite impact on his movies. The real reason for buying this new
Blu-ray release by Kino Lorber are for the generous supplements including an
audio commentary by film historians and Peckinpah experts Paul Seydor, Garner
Simmons and Nick Redman. The commentary is filled with anecdotes and personal
reminisces on Peckinpah, on the cast and crew as well as details on the
production. Their outstanding commentary opens up the movie and brings to life the
world of Sam Peckinpah. Kino Lorber didn’t stop there and also include a 73
minute documentary on the making of “Convoy,” deleted scenes, a montage of in-jokes
and cameos, radio spots, trailers, a promotional featurette, a stills gallery
and an interesting feature by a fan expert from Norway. The movie apparently
has a substantial cult following outside of America.
re-recorded “Convoy”, incorporating the plot and characters from the movie and
it briefly made its way to the top of the pop charts again. This new version
can be heard during the end credits. The Kino Blu-ray looks and sounds very
good and is a breezy, easy going experience which trucks in at 110 minutes.
Peckinpah fans will enjoy this release for the outstanding and generous
supplements. Fans of the “good old boy” trucker genre will also be entertained.
Cinema Retro has received the following press release:
BURBANK, CA (April 11, 2016) – Just in time for Father's Day and
the theatrical release, Warner Bros. Home Entertainment will release the long
awaited animated series that aired when Saturday Morning Cartoons reigned
supreme. Available on DVD on June 14, 2016, Tarzan, Lord Of The
Jungle: Complete Season One was created by the Filmation Studio
for CBS and follows the animated adventures of Edgar Rice Burroughs' ape man
from the 1970's. The two-disc collectors setincludes all 16
episodes from the series’ first season, and is priced to own at $19.98 SRP. The
DVD has an order due date of May 3, 2016.
As the opening narration explains: "The jungle: Here I was
born; and here my parents died when I was but an infant. I would have soon
perished, too, had I not been found by a kindly she-ape named Kala, who adopted
me as her own and taught me the ways of the wild. I learned quickly, and grew
stronger each day, and now I share the friendship and trust of all jungle
animals. The jungle is filled with beauty, and danger; and lost cities filled
with good, and evil. This is my domain, and I protect those who come here; for
I am Tarzan, Lord of the Jungle!"
“Tarzan, Lord Of The Jungle was animated the
old fashion way, with many hours of hand drawn stills," said Mary Ellen
Thomas, Vice President Family & Animation Marketing and Partner Brands.
"They don't make animation like this anymore, and we are really proud to
be releasing this timeless classic just in time for the July release of Tarzan in
The 1961 MGM Western A Thunder of Drums has been released by the Warner Archives. The film was regarded as a standard oater in its day but has since built a loyal following who have been eager to have the movie available on the home video market. What sets A Thunder of Drums apart from many of the indistinguishable Westerns of the period is its downbeat storyline and intelligent script, which was clearly geared for adults as opposed to moppets. There's also the impressive cast: Richard Boone, George Hamilton, Charles Bronson, Arthur O'Connell, Richard Chamberlain and Slim Pickens among them.The film opens with a sequence that was very unsettling and shocking for its day: an Indian attack on a tranquil homestead. A little girl is forced to witness the gang rape and murders of her mother and teenage sister. The plot then shifts to the local fort where commandant Boone is overseeing an understaffed cavalry contingent that has to find and defeat the marauding tribe, which has already slaughtered numerous settlers and soldiers. The Indians are window dressing in the story: nameless, faceless adversaries who are not given any particular motivation for their savagery. (These was, remember, far less enlightened times and such conflicts were generally presented without nuance.)
George Hamilton is the by-the-book West Point graduate assigned to the fort as Boone's second-in-command. He gets a frosty reception from minute one. Boone tells him he doesn't meet the requirements of a seasoned officer who can survive in the hostile environment. The two men spend a good deal of their time in a psychological war of wills. Adding to Hamilton's discomfort is the discovery that his former lover, Luana Patten, is not only living at the remote outpost, but is engaged to one of his fellow officers. The two rekindle their own romance and this leads to scandalous and tragic results.
The film is based on a novel by popular Western writer James Warner Bellah and probably represents the career high water mark of director Joseph Newman, who was destined to toil for decades helming B movies. He gets vibrant performances from his cast. The ever-watchable Boone is in his predictably crusty mode, cynically second-guessing his officers and men, tossing out insults and sucking on an omnipresent stogie. Boone was so dominant in every role he played, one wonders why he never reached a higher status as a reliable box-office figure. Hamilton is in his standard pretty boy mode, but holds his own against macho men Boone and Charles Bronson, who is cast against type as a somewhat dim-witted character of low scruples. Singer Duane Eddy, who was a teenage pop star at the time, made his film debut here with a degree of fanfare, but it was obviously last minute stunt casting as Eddy is given virtually nothing to do except strum a few chords on his guitar. The film boasts some magnificent scenery and some rousing action sequences that are more realistic than those found in most Westerns of the time. A Thunder of Drums isn't art or even a great or important Western - but it is fine entertainment and the Warner Archive edition looks terrific. An original theatrical trailer is included.
always knew that porridge oats ranked among the world’s sexiest foodstuffs,
didn't you? You didn't? Neither did
advertising executive Teddy Brown, tasked with devising a promotional campaign
to 'sex up' under-performing breakfast product ‘McLaughlin's Frozen Porridge’
in risqué romp Every Home Should Have One
(1970, U.S.: Think Dirty). This
neglected gem has just been given a new breath of life in the UK via a
sparkling Blu-ray and DVD release, a constituent of Network Distributing's
ongoing British Film Collection.
by Marty Feldman (who also stars), Barry Took and Denis Norden, Every Home Should Have One delights in
taking a swipe at not only the absurd and superficial nature of the advertising
profession but also the hypocrisy of our self-imposed moral guardians (both
still valid targets 45 years on, I'd proffer), and the pitfalls of adopting a
permissive lifestyle. But most rewarding of all it gives bug-eyed, chaotic-haired
comic Feldman a free canvas to do his thing – and he delivers the funnies in
kernel of the tale concerns the life of ad man Teddy Brown (Marty Feldman).
Professionally he's struggling to come up with a sales idea that will please
both his boss (Shelley Berman) – whose own dismal ideas include giving away
free plastic sporrans – and their client (Jack Watson), a no-nonsense Scot.
Privately he's having to deal with his wife Liz (Judy Cornwell) joining a
‘Clean Up TV’ crusade presided over by the local Vicar (Dinsdale Landen). The
Vicar happens to have lascivious designs
on Liz, and their kleptomaniac son (Garry Miller) who, spurred by a TV play
entitled ‘The Fetish’, has developed hobbies that include purloining the
panties of the family’s string of au pairs (among them Julie Ege), which he squirrels
away between the pages of his stamp album.
Panty raided: Julie Ege.
Every Home Should
was produced by Ned Sherrin (also producer on such big screen rib-ticklers as The Virgin Soldiers and Frankie Howerd's
ribald Up trilogy) and directed by
Jim Clark (who two years on helmed Rentadick
– also produced by Sherrin and featuring Ege – but was better known for his
skills in the editing room; he scooped the Oscar for his work on The Killing Fields and brought his
expertise to The Mission, Charade, Agatha, Marathon Man and
Brosnan Bond thriller The World is Not
Enough, to name but a few).
garish couture might have dated the film a shade, but there’s still a lot of
fun to be found here, the plenteous smiles – it seldom evokes belly laughs –
proportionate, I’d suggest, to how much you like Feldman. He certainly had a Marmite
effect on audiences. For this writer's money, regardless of the fine assembly
of players backing him up (beyond those already namechecked there are terrific
turns from Francis de la Tour, Penelope Keith, Patrick Cargill, and an
uncredited Alan Bennett), Feldman is the crazy-glue who holds the movie
together. He effortlessly steals the show, at his most amusing in a clutch of Billy Liar-esque fantasy sequences which
pitch him into a horror film (as a voracious vampire), a black-and-white silent
movie, a sepia-tinted peepshow loop, a Swedish arthouse film and a zany
animation (graphics courtesy of Richard Williams, later-to-be titles animator
on several Pink Panther movies and
animation director on Who Framed Roger
Blu-Ray release comes highly recommended, delivering a colourful 1.66:1
presentation of the film with nary a trace of grain, its picture so clean that your eye is frequently
distracted by faddish 70s set dressing (such as the toy Captain Scarlet vehicle on the sideboard in the Brown household)
and minutiae like the nicotine stains on Feldman's fingers. The bonus materials
comprise an image gallery (which collects together a selection of lobby cards
and poster art), a trailer, a sans-subtitles replay of the Feldman/Ege arthouse
movie sketch and some original release promotional material in PDF format. Also
available on standard definition DVD.
Cinema Retro has received the following press release from Paramount Home Media:
NEW YORK – Called “the best looking fantasy
series on TV” (IGN) and “damn fine television” (Collider), MTV’s hit show“The
Shannara Chronicles” Season One
arrives on DVD June 7, 2016. Executive produced and written for television
by Alfred Gough & Miles Millar (“Smallville”) and executive produced by Jon
Favreau (Iron Man), the lavish
fantasy series is based on the 26-volume book series by Terry Brooks. “The Shannara Chronicles” premiere on MTV was viewed 14.6 million times across linear
and digital platforms and delivered the best single-week performance on iTunes
ever for an MTV series.
Set thousands of years in the future, “The Shannara Chronicles” follows three
heroes, Elf-Human hybrid Wil (Austin Butler, “Arrow”), Elvin Princess Amberle
(Poppy Drayton, “Downton Abbey”), and Human Rover Eretria (Ivana Baquero, Pan’s Labryinth), as they embark on a
quest to stop an evil Demon army from destroying the world. The show also features Manu Bennett (The Hobbit), John Rhys-Davies (The Lord of the Rings), and James Remar
Arriving just in time for Father’s Day and
graduation gift-giving, the four-disc DVD set includes all 10 episodes from the
inaugural season along with more than 30 minutes of behind-the-scenes
footage. “The Shannara Chronicles”Season One DVD set has a suggested
retail price of $29.99 U.S./$32.99 Canada.
DVD SPECIAL FEATURES:
of the Dagda Mor
DVD Release Date: 6/7/16
U.S. Rating: NR
Running Time: 411 min
Chronicles” is written for television by and executive produced by Al Gough and
Miles Millar. Jon Favreau, Jonathan Liebesman, Terry Brooks and Dan Farah
also serve as executive producers. The first two episodes were directed by
Jonathan Liebesman (“Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles”).
Cinema Retro has received the following press release:
On May 3, fans of director Clint Eastwood’s “American Sniper” will have the
opportunity to revisit the acclaimed drama and learn even more fascinating
details about the real American war hero Chris Kyle and the Navy SEALS he
fought with. “American Sniper: The Chris
Kyle Commemorative Edition” arrives as a two-disc Blu-ray from Warner Bros.
Home Entertainment featuring a special commemorative disc with 60 minutes of
brand-new bonus content, including revealing in-depth documentaries narrated by
Bradley Cooper*. “American Sniper” stars
Cooper as Chris Kyle, whose skills as a lethal sniper and qualities as a human
being made him a hero both on and off the battlefield.
A two-time Oscar® nominee for his work in
“Silver Linings Playbook” and “American Hustle,” Cooper stars alongside Sienna
Miller, Luke Grimes, Jake McDorman, Cory Hardrict, Kevin Lacz, Navid Negahban
and Keir O’Donnell.
Oscar®-winning filmmaker Clint Eastwood
(“Million Dollar Baby,” “Unforgiven”) directed “American Sniper” from a screenplay written by Jason Hall, based on
the book by Chris Kyle, with Scott McEwen and Jim DeFelice. The autobiography
was a runaway bestseller, spending 18 weeks on the New York Times bestseller
list, 13 of those at number one.
The film is produced by Eastwood, Robert
Lorenz, Andrew Lazar, Bradley Cooper and Peter Morgan. Tim Moore, Jason Hall,
Sheroum Kim, Steven Mnuchin and Bruce Berman served as executive producers.
Warner Bros. Home Entertainment will donate
$1.00 of the purchases to Chris Kyle Frog Foundation up to $150,000 from April
19, 2016 through December 31, 2016, void in Alabama, Hawaii, Illinois,
Massachusetts, Mississippi and South Carolina.
The aim of the Chris Kyle Frog Foundation is
to provide meaningful, interactive experiences to service members, first
responders and their families, aimed at enriching their family relationships.
Prior to his untimely passing in February 2013, Chris had begun casting his
vision for the Chris Kyle Frog Foundation to provide experiences for service
and first responder families to work through many of the difficulties he and
Taya had experienced post-deployment. As Executive Director of the foundation,
Taya and a dedicated team are ensuring Chris’ vision, desire and legacy to the
country he served carries on now and into the future. For more information on
the Chris Kyle Frog Foundation, please visit www.chriskylefrogfoundation.org.
“American Sniper: The Chris Kyle Commemorative Edition” will be
offered on two Blu-ray discs in double elite case packaging for $24.98 SRP.
From director Clint Eastwood comes “American Sniper,” starring Bradley
Cooper as Chris Kyle, whose skills as a sniper made him a hero on the
battlefield. But there was much more to him than his skill as a sharpshooter.
Navy SEAL Chris Kyle is sent to Iraq with
only one mission: to protect his brothers-in-arms. His pinpoint accuracy saves
countless lives on the battlefield, and as stories of his courageous exploits
spread, he earns the nickname “Legend.” However, his reputation is also growing
behind enemy lines, putting a price on his head and making him a prime target
of insurgents. He is also facing a different kind of battle on the home front:
striving to be a good husband and father from halfway around the world.
Despite the danger,
as well as the toll on his family at home, Chris serves through four harrowing
tours of duty in Iraq, personifying the spirit of the SEAL creed to “leave no
one behind.” But upon returning to his wife Taya (Sienna Miller) and kids,
Chris finds that it is the war he can’t leave behind.
Sniper: The Chris Kyle Commemorative Edition” Blu-ray contains the following
special features: ·*Chris Kyle: The Man Behind the Legend -- NEW! In
never-before-seen home movies, family, friends and fellow soldiers reveal
another side of ChrisKyle. ·*Navy SEALS: In War and Peace – NEW! Join Taya Kyle
and legendary SEAL Marcus Luttrell as they illuminate the secret world of
America’s elite fightingforce. ·Bringing the War Home: The Cost of Heroism – Previously only
limited availability! Discover the challenges faced by many U.S. veterans whose
return home can often be as daunting as their time atwar. ·One Soldier’s Story: The Journey of American Sniper Join director Clint
Eastwood, cast and crew as they overcome enormous creative and logistic
obstacles to bring the truth of Navy SEAL Chris Kyle’s story to thescreen. ·The Making of AmericanSniper
Howdy, pardners. It’s western movie roundup time at
Cinema Retro today. Here are a handful of oldie westerns recently released on
DVD by the Warner Archive- and which are now available in the Cinema Retro
Movie Store. And a rootin’, tootin’, downright interesting bunch of movies they
First up, “Station West” with Dick Powell and Jane Greer.
Ever wonder what would happen if private dick Philip Marlowe traveled back in
time to the old west and tried to solve a murder case? That’s essentially what
you have with Station West, an offbeat western filmed in black and white that
plays like film noir, except all the men wear wide-brimmed Stetsons instead of
Fedoras, and shoot Colt Peacemakers and Winchesters instead of snubbed nosed
.38s. To further mix up the western and detective genres Jane Greer, the most fatale of all femme fatales, is on hand, playing Charlie, a hard-boiled gal who
runs a gambling house and just possibly a few things more.
Powell plays Army Intelligence investigator John Haven
who arrives in town to find out who killed a couple of cavalrymen who were
transporting gold. Powell is his usual,
laconic self, cracking wise and engaging in some sharp dialog written by Frank
Fenton and Winston Miller. To wit:
Haven sits down at Charlie’s table uninvited.
You like to take chances, don't you?
I feel lucky.
Charlie: I advise you to try the dice table.
Haven: I'd rather get lucky here.
Every man has the right to his own funeral.
Released by RKO in 1952 the movie is loaded with a
supporting cast made up of veterans of that studio’s numerous noir crime
thrillers. Raymond Burr, Regis Toomey, Steve Brodie, Guinn Big Boy Williams,
Agnes Moorehead and Burl Ives are all on hand and just right as the shadowy characters
that populate this crooked little town. Based on a Luke Short novel, “Station
West” provides a diverting 87 minutes of curious, off-beat, entertainment.
CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM THE CINEMA RETRO MOVIE STORE
Next up is “Rough Shod” (1949), another RKO black and
white western, this one starring Robert Sterling, Gloria Graham, and John
Ireland. It starts out with Lednov (Ireland) and his two fellow escaped
convicts creeping up on a camp of drovers from a nearby ranch. They kill them
in cold blood and steal their horses and clothes. Not far away Clay Phillips (Sterling)
and his kid brother, Steve (Claude Jarman of The Yearling) are driving eight
head of horses to Sonora to set up a stage line. In town, the sheriff asks if
Clay will join the posse to round up the convicts. Clay says no thanks, adding
he’s pretty sure Lednov will come looking for him. They’ve got a history.
Also on the road is dancehall gal Mary Wells (Graham) and
her three “co-workers” who got kicked out of town by the decent folk. Clay and
Steve run into them on the trail when their buggy breaks down and Clay
reluctantly agrees to help them by taking them in his wagon to the nearest
ranch. The nearest ranch belongs to Ed Wyatt and good old Ed and his wife,
never knew it to fail, well, they get paid a visit by Lednov and his friends.
Meanwhile Clay and Mary are on the trail and she’s starting to get under his
skin. But Clay’s ready to kiss her off soon as they get to the Wyatt place,
because all he cares about is dropping her and the other ladies off at the
Wyatt place, getting the horses to Sonora and setting up his stage line.
I know you’re thinking, oh boy, Clay, Steve and the dance
hall girls are going to ride into a real mess at the Wyatt place. Probably get
captured. Clay and Steve probably get
beat up, with the leering convicts having their way with the dance hall gals.
Well, that’s what would have happened if Anthony Mann had directed “Roughshod.”
But this movie was directed by Mark Robson, who made movies like “Bright
Victory”, “The Bridges of Toko-Ri,” and “Champion.” He wasn’t into that kinky
stuff. Instead, once the convicts get enough to eat, they say
goodbye to the Wyatts and ride off! After that build up to nothing, the movie
become more or less a soap opera. Mary sees an opportunity to lead a decent
normal life with a guy like Clay and sets out to hog tie him matrimonially
speaking. There are a couple of subplots involving one of the girls who just
happens to be the Wyatt’s daughter, and conflict between Clay and Steve over
the roughshod (get it, Roughshod?) way
Clay treats Mary. It’s all tied up at the end when finally, after all that
romantic folderol, Lednov and his men show up and there’s a pretty well-staged
shootout in the woods.
CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM THE CINEMA RETRO MOVIE STORE
Winner's ribald 1983 reimagining of 1945’s venerated The Wicked Lady gets a long overdue UK DVD release from Second
Sight in July. Bristling with star names delivering some of the most cringe-worthy
performances of their careers, needless to say it's an essential acquisition.
beautiful Caroline (Glynis Barber) invites her dearest friend Barbara (Faye
Dunaway) to meet her husband-to-be, Sir Ralph Skelton (Denholm Elliott). The
manipulative Barbara seduces Skelton and the demure Caroline graciously steps
aside allowing them to wed. Quickly tiring of her affluent and influential
position as Lady Skelton, Barbara is soon looking for something to spice up her
life. One night, desperate to retrieve jewellery that she has carelessly forfeited
in a game of cards, she dons attire akin to that of infamous local highwayman
Captain Jackson. The adrenaline rush she gets from the experience gives her a
taste to continue her nocturnal thievery, but inevitably it isn’t long before
she crosses paths with the real Jackson (Alan Bates), an encounter that gives
rise to an unexpected turn of events.
German release poster
on the novel "The Life and Death of the Wicked Lady Skelton" by
Magdalen King-Hall, Winner’s The Wicked
Lady was produced by Israeli cousins Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus, whose
production company The Cannon Group spat out literally dozens of films in its
heyday, many of them big star vehicles and most of them pretty bad – though, it
has to be said, few of them less than entertainingly so. Winner would work with
the gregarious producers several times throughout the 80s, taking the helm for Death Wish II and 3, Bullseye (with Golan
alone) and Hercule Poirot mystery Appointment
The director took co-writing credit on The Wicked Ladywith the original version's scripter Leslie Arliss. The resulting film has taken a lot of flack throughout the years for its vapidity – and, rest assured, high art it most certainly ain't. But as guilty pleasures go they don't come much more rewarding. I mean, what's not to like about a movie in which Faye Dunaway andStar Trek: The Next Generation's Marina Sirtis get into a gratuitously protracted, BBFC-baiting catfight which evolves into a skirmish with whips during which Dunaway lashes her opponents clothing to shreds? It's something of a star-studded affair too; along with Dunaway, Elliott, Bates and Barber there's substantial input from the likes of John Gielgud, Oliver Tobias, Prunella Scales and Joan Hickson. Performances are uniformly ripe and one or two are camper than a field full of tents…which, perversely, only serves to enhance the film’s entertainment value. Dunaway was actually nominated for a 1984 Razzie as worst actress forThe Wicked Lady– and witnessing her overwrought performance in the final scene one could argue a strong case for her having romped it – though she was ultimately trounced by Pia Zadora forThe Lonely Lady.
It was always going to be something rather good that
would eventually topple Jaws (1975) from the box office number one slot. Sydney
Pollack’s compelling political thriller, Three Days of the Condor, achieved
that feat. It is a film steeped in speculative government dealings and the
shady side of its associations with large business corporations.Three Days of the Condor is arguably one of
the greatest thrillers to emerge from the 70s. it arrived directly in the
slipstream of the Watergate scandal that had witnessed the toppling of a
president and a severe shifting of the United States political arena. The
ripple effect from such political scandals bought about a change in American
cinema with film directors examining the fringes and paranoia fallout that
subsequently evolved. The darker side of American politics had suddenly become
the new in-vogue sub-genre. Probing thrillers such as Alan J. Pakula’s All the
President's Men (1976) became fascinating exposés as well as enlightening forms
In Three Days of the Condor, Robert Redford stars as
Joe Turner; he’s an everyman employed on a clerical level by the CIA in New
York City. He’ss smart; an expert of sorts who provides advice and analysis
based upon foreign publications and what might be hiding in between the lines. One
afternoon he dashes out to the local deli to collect the lunch orders for the
office staff. He returns to his office to find that his entire group of colleagues
has been massacred. Panic stricken and confused, Turner calls his superiors to
request that he be bought in safely. However, the situation is turned on its
head when he finds himself being hunted down by the same group that murdered
his colleagues- and on the directive of his CIA superiors.
In desperation, and acting on pure adrenalin, Turner
abducts Kathy (Faye Dunaway) a photographer. Turner needs to get off the
streets and take some time to piece together the mystery. He ultimately wins
over Kathy and convinces her to assist him, despite the danger to her own life.
Because the twosome is played by Redford
and Dunaway, it will surprise no one that they become lovers in the process. Together, Joe and Kathy begin to unravel
clues while a sinister, lone assassin (Max Von Sydow) calmly manoeuvres ever
closer in their footsteps.
Some 40 years on, Three Days of the Condor still
works superbly. Based on James Grady's
novel, it is interesting to observe how the passing years have witnessed the
author’s fictional elements materialise into accountable elements of fact, a
realisation that makes the story that much more chilling. The passing of time
deems it almost entirely plausible, which perhaps diminishes the shock value to
some degree. Right or wrong, there is almost an acceptance regarding the shady
conspiracies that unfold when viewed today, even more so than at the time of
the film’s original release.
Redford and Dunaway are both magnetic on screen, two
iconic stars that were dominant on the silver screen around the mid-Seventies. Pollack’s
direction is tight and tense and keeps the narrative flowing at an even,
constant pace. Also noteworthy is Dave
Grusin's smooth and funky Jazz score. In recent times it has become something
of a legendary soundtrack and one that has rightly been proclaimed as a 70s
Eureka’s 1080p transfer is very nice indeed, Condor
(through the various incarnations I have previously owned) has never appeared
or stood out as the sharpest of 70s movies. Some scenes tend to have a ‘director’s
intent’ soft focus to them. However, its hidden beauty is made apparent with tighter,
close up shots, which look superbly detailed and reveal a vivid natural
clarity. The film also appears to be rather brighter – especially in night
shots. Blacks especially appear to retain just the right balance without
falling off into the dreaded, milky grey spectrum. The picture is clean
throughout and does not reveal any signs of blemishes, dirt particles or
scratches. The film’s audio is provided by
way of an English LPCM 2.0 channel and an English DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1
channel mix. The purist in me opted for the 2.0 channel mix, which is both
clear and perfectly detailed.
In the bonus features you will find The Directors:
Sydney Pollack – an original (and excellent) 60 minute documentary that
examines the film-making career of the esteemed filmmaker. It’s a great watch
which includes archival interviews and features contributions from Cliff
Robertson, Paul Newman, Harrison Ford, Meryl Streep, Julia Ormond and Sally
Field. There is also a new video presentation featuring film historian Dr. Sheldon
Hall who discusses (in detail) the production history of the movie, the
identities of the main protagonists, the evolution of their relationships and Pollack's
directing style. As with any piece
featuring Sheldon Hall, you know you are in good, intelligent company with a
man who knows his subject well. At 22 minutes, it sadly passes all too soon. Also
included is the original theatrical trailer, which is generous at around 3
minutes. Included within is a superbly produced 32-page illustrated booklet
featuring a new essay by film critic Michael Brooke and an extensive interview with Sydney Pollack. It
is apparent that Brooke has obviously researched his subject to the highest
standard. Intelligent and hugely informative, Brooke’s writing is supported by
an equally impressive array of archival images. The booklet is a lovingly produced
piece that almost warrants its admission fee alone.
It’s a shame that Eureka’s Region B package doesn’t
include the Sydney Pollack commentary track as this is an addition I would have
dearly loved to hear. I can only assume this was unavailable due to copyright
restrictions, but as an admirer of Pollack’s work and legacy, I’m sure it would
provide a fascinating listen. Nevertheless, Eureka’s presentation pushes all
the right buttons and serves as a perfect example of what made 70s cinema so
unique and so damn good. Grab it without hesitation. https://www.eurekavideo.co.uk/moc/three-days-condor
early 1970s Italian Gothic chillers from director Emilio Miraglia have been released
in the UK in a dual Blu-ray/DVD box set. Bearing the tantalising umbrella title
"Killer Dames", it could equally be looked upon as a Marina Malfatti
set, since the actress occupies a prominent role in both of the films contained
prolific assistant director throughout the first half of the 60s, Emilio Miraglia's
fourth spin in the director's chair following a trio of crime thrillers was
also his first foray into terror terrain. 1971's The Night Evelyn Came Out of Her Grave (o.t. La Notte Che Evelyn Usci Della Tomba) concerns English aristocrat Lord
Cunningham (Anthony Steffan), a man devastated by the passing of his titian-haired
wife Evelyn, who he suspected was being unfaithful. Struggling to overcome his
grief over her death and rage at her perceived infidelity, Cunningham lures attractive
redheaded women to his castle residence on the outskirts of London where he
first seduces then tortures them in a dungeon kitted out with S&M gear. Cunningham's
doctor (Giacomo Rossi Stuart) convinces him that remarriage is the only way to stem
his unravelling sanity, whereafter he meets and falls for the beautiful Gladys (Marina
Malfatti). They wed and at first it appears that the doctor's advice was sound.
But then the slayings begin...
screenplay, which Miraglia co-wrote with Fabio Pittorru and Massimo Felsatti, is
an intoxicating blend of Gothic mystery and stylish giallo, top-heavy with the
staple ingredients of the latter – copious nudity and sadistic killing. In one
particularly nasty sequence a victim is thrown into an animal enclosure where
the canidae residents rip out her intestines. Director of photography Gastone
di Giovanni brings plenty of visual lustre to the show and Bruno Nicolai
provides a dreamy cocktail lounge score. Although the pace slackens a tad here
and there and the sadomasochistic facet affords it an unnecessarily sleazy vibe,
in summation it’s a compelling enough little number which keeps one engaged and
guessing up until the last reel – bristling with unpredictable double and
triple crosses – and its slightly abrupt conclusion. Steffan makes for a solid
leading man, slipping back and forth between cultured sophistication and sweaty
paranoia, whilst Malfatti is delightful as the beleaguered heroine.
next film (and Evelyn's bedmate in
this set, surely not coincidentally also featuring a key character by that
name) was the following year's The Red
Queen Kills Seven Times (1972, o.t. La
Dama Uccide Sette Volte, a.k.a. The
Lady in Red Kills Seven Times - its onscreen title here).
the wake of their grandfather's murder by a masked figure cloaked in crimson, two
sisters (Barbara Bouchet and Marina Malfatti) inherit his castle abode. But the
murders continue, believed by some to be perpetrated by the mythical ‘Red Queen’
who, family legend has it, returns every 100 years to claim seven lives. Could that
possibly be the case? Or is there something more insidious going on?
has to be said that some aspects of Red
Queen are a little clichéd (it's one of those films where, when a character
utters those guaranteed-death-sentence words "I know who the killer
is" you just know they’ll get bumped off five minutes later without having
had time to spill the beans) and the otherwise creepy titular killer is
slightly undermined by a cartoonish burst of manic laughter accompanying each murder.
Nevertheless, in this writer's opinion it's the better film of the pair, slicker
paced with a superior narrative that builds to a more satisfying climax, and boasts
more imaginative death sequences than its predecessor (one memorably grisly impaling
is staged atop a spiked fence). Oh, and it also showcases an early Sybil
Danning performance, the Miraglia/Pittorru script ensuring the actress has
barely a single scene in which she isn't required to shed her clothing. The
director maintains a fine level of ‘who's-doin'-it?’ intrigue that, as with Evelyn, keeps the audience in suspense
until the final reveal (though seasoned giallo buffs will have little
difficulty seeing through the veritable shoal of red herrings), and there are
plenty of standout moments; a stylish nightmare sequence which culminates with
Barbara Bouchet strapped to a torture rack will certainly pique the prurient
proclivities of her fans. Bruno Nicolai serves up an infectiously chirrupy
score (you'll be humming it long after the end credits have rolled) and Alberto
Spagnoli's beautiful cinematography ensures that there’s always something on
screen to admire, whether it be the atmospheric Gothicism of the castle
interiors or the striking décor in the (then) modern apartments.
Alfred Hitchcock’s I Confess
opens on a desolate Quebec City just before nightfall. Overcast skies, drenched
streets, and a still rustling wind suggest the tranquility of a recently
concluded storm. The camera moves toward a house, easing through an open
window. Inside, a dead body, that of a lawyer named Vilette, lies bludgeoned on
the floor. A man in priest’s cassock, which he soon removes, flees the scene
under cover of darkness. He is then observed by another priest as he hurriedly
enters a rectory. About a minute into this 1953 film, there has been a murder,
a passing glimpse of the assailant, and a witness, and a previously serene
environment is now the backdrop for a sinister scenario. Thus we have many of
the main ingredients necessary to set up a prototypical Hitchcock story.
But this story goes one brilliant step further. Based on the 1902
play by French-Canadian Paul Anthelme, Nos
deux consciences (Our Two Consciences), I
Confess has the murderer, in actuality a sexton named Otto Keller (O.E.
Hasse), tell the real priest, Father Michael Logan (Montgomery Clift), about
his deed. The catch, of course, is that Michael cannot reveal what he knows due
to the strictures of confidential admission. Even if this wasn’t a perfect
murder—Otto only wanted to steal some money—it was a perfect confession.
The murder is more than simply an illegal secret Michael must
conceal, however. Visiting the scene of the crime the next day, his own
behavior raises suspicion, eventually to the point that he becomes the prime
suspect for Inspector Larrue (Karl Malden). And when the unhappily married Ruth
Grandfort (Anne Baxter) greets Michael and passionately mutters, “We’re free,”
it becomes clear that indeed Michael also has reason for wanting the lawyer
dead: he and Ruth harbor a taboo, though presently platonic, love, and only
Vilette knew about it. So the question then becomes not how the characters will
react to the crime itself, but how they will function following the confession,
how all involved will deftly handle the aftermath of this crime that benefits
more than just the murderer, and potentially leaves the consequences to fall on
an innocent man.
George Tabori and William Archibald are credited with the
screenplay of I Confess (one of only
two writing credits ever for Archibald), but the film was rumored to have
involved nearly 12 writers at various points in its eight-year preproduction.
Yet with so many cooks working on the broth, I Confess retains a fair amount of Hitchcock flavor. It is even
tempting to further read into it a personal connection for the director, given
that he was raised Catholic and identified with the religious setting,
appreciating Father Logan’s adherence to his religious principles, for
While Clift’s Method acting background (and his drinking) sometimes
ran contrary to Hitchcock’s preference for blindly obedient and unquestioning
actors, the two evidently worked well enough to elicit an excellent performance
by the astonishing young star, already with two Oscar nominations under his
belt and on his way to a third, for From
Here to Eternity (1953). To see Clift’s face as Hasse tells him about the
murder is an acting master class in close-up. Held in a single take, Clift’s
expressive features register his shock at the announcement, his guilty consideration
of its advantageous value, his acceptance of its significance, and his return
to priestly concern, all with the mere crinkle of a nose, blink of an eye,
facial twitch, or furrowed brow. There is no doubt Clift had one of the
screen’s more breathtaking faces, but more amazing is what he could do with it,
and we see it all in just this one shot. Costars Malden and Baxter fit their
roles well, but Clift in general gives a type of nuanced performance rarely
seen in a Hitchcock film.
In the opening sequences of I
Confess, Dimitri Tiomkin’s exuberant score pounds to operatic rhythms
matched by camera movement and editing, rising to a crescendo of high-pitched
tension as all of the above mentioned pieces are put into place. Things calm
down not long after this breakneck opening, though, settling to a statelier
pace with extensive passages of dialogue, detailed procedural interrogations,
and later, a prolonged trial sequence. Even the basic generic tenor switches
gear for a time to have its drive be the forbidden romance rather than the
murder. Before the 30-minute mark, it is clear that Michael knows too much,
Otto and his scheming wife Alma, played by famed German actress Dolly Haas in
her only American role, both know he knows too much, and Larrue knows everybody
knows more than they’re telling. The main problem with I Confess, as far as its maintaining a consistent interest, is that
we too know more than we should. Where I
Confess falters is that by this point, not even half way through the
picture, everything is more or less explained, except for perhaps how and when
the truth will be revealed, and much of what transpires until that moment is
simply getting in the way.
Charlton Heston fans will appreciate the fact that one of his few major films not to be released on home video has finally made it to DVD through MGM. "Number One" (released in certain countries under the title "Pro") is an off-beat vehicle for the superstar, who was then at his peak of popularity. The fact that the movie under-performed at the box-office and failed to score with critics didn't diminish Heston's status as a leading man. He would go on to star in such hits as "The Omega Man", "Skyjacked", "Soylent Green" "Earthquake", "Midway"and "Airport '75"- with cameos in the popular "The Three Musketeers" and "The Four Musketeers". The poor response to "Number One" doesn't diminish its many merits - and the fact that Heston was willing to play against type in a largely unsympathetic role. For the film, he reunited with director Tom Gries, with whom he made the acclaimed 1968 Western "Will Penny". Curiously, both movies center on the same theme: a macho man who can't come to grips with the fact that he is aging and, therefore, his chosen way of life is threatened. In "Will Penny", Heston played the title character: a middle-aged cowboy who feels the inevitable aches and pains of trying to maintain a career that is clearly suited for younger men. Similarly, in "Number One" he plays "Cat" Catlan, a star quarterback for the New Orleans Saints football team. Catlan has seen plenty of fame and glory as the team's Golden Boy and the idol of the crowds. But now he is 40 years old and, although still in Herculean physical condition compared to most men his age, he's fallen victim to the constant brutalities he suffers on the field. The film opens on a particularly disastrous game in which Catlan makes some serious misjudgments about plays and bungles some key passes. The result is an embarrassing loss for the team. The Saints' gruff coach Southerd (John Randolph) isn't ready to give up on Catlin but seemingly every other team member is. Catlan is subjected to some cruel jokes and he has to contend with the fact that a much younger player (Richard Elkins) is breathing down his neck, hoping to replace him as quarterback. Things aren't much better at home for Catlan. His long-suffering wife Julie (Jessica Walter) patiently endures his mysterious absences, unpredictable mood swings and volatile temper. She is a very successful fashion designer but Catlan is "old school" when it comes to the role of wives. He wants Julie to stay home and cater to his needs. In the midst of one of their frequent fights, he even stoops so low as to cruelly tease her about her inability to conceive a baby. Still, she sticks with him even when he confesses to having an affair with an another attractive, self-made woman, Ann (Diana Muldaur). Faced with the fact that his career is winding down, Catlan reluctantly explores his options for his post-NFL life. They aren't very enticing. His best friend Richie (Bruce Dern), is an obnoxious former Saints player who brags about having gotten out of the game at age 34. He now runs a very successful car leasing business and lives a playboy lifestyle. He wants Catlan to work for him, a prospect that doesn't sit well with the aging quarterback. He also gets an offer from a computer company to work for them but the idea of dealing of being surrounded by machines in the confines of an office is repugnant to him.Ultimately, Catlan is inspired by his wife to go out on a high note. During one of their rare moments of domestic detente, she convinces him that he still has some good games in his future if he can shake off the funk and get his confidence back. The film's climactic game is the very definition of mixed emotions. Catlan performs well and has his mojo back but the movie's ambiguous final shot is anything but uplifting.
Tom Gries was a good director for Heston. He somehow managed to tamp down Heston's larger-than-life personality and afford him the opportunity to play everyday men. In "Number One", Heston is subject to the sorts of problems that plague most middle-aged men. He's nervous about his future. He often takes his frustrations out on the people closest to him. He tries to reassert his youth by exerting his sexual prowess through having an affair. Throughout it all, Heston admirably does not try to make Catlan into a hero. There is a level of sympathy accorded to him because of the emotional and physical stress he is under but his sheer disregard for others makes him more a villain than a hero. (He even refuses to give fans his autograph). Even worse is his sheer selfishness in how he deals with his wife's needs. He feels threatened by the success she is enjoying in her own career and therefore diminishes her achievements. Heston gives one of his finest performances, ironically, in what was one of his least-seen films.He gets able support from the woefully-underrated Jessica Walter, whose performance a couple of years later in "Play Misty For Me" should have assured her of major stardom (and an Oscar nomination). Director Gries also utilizes the talents of real-life football players, some of whom exhibit impressive acting skills. Diana Muldaur also excels as the siren who lures Catlan into her bed. There is an air of authenticity to the film, primarily because Gries shot much of it in front of packed stadiums. (Cinematographer Michael Hugo's work is especially impressive). Gries also captures the feel of New Orleans back in the day, capitalizing on the local scenery, jazz clubs and even getting the great Al Hirt to perform a number and do a bit of acting. About the only dated aspects of the film concern the off-the-field activities of the NFL players. Catlan complains that they are paid like peasants, which was probably true in 1969, but is a rather laughable notion today. Also, the NFL team is required to wear jackets and ties when traveling to or leaving the stadium, another rule that would be virtually unenforceable by contemporary standards.
"Number One" never found its audience in 1969 but hopefully the crisp, impressive DVD release from MGM will find help retro movie lovers appreciate its merits. The film did have at least one critic who appreciated the movie and Heston's performance. Writing in the New York Times, critic Howard Thompson wrote: "Charlton Heston, minus a
beard, a loincloth, a toga or the Red Sea, tackles a starkly unadorned role in
one of the most interesting and admirable performances of his career…If Heston
could have been better, we don’t know how." Our sentiments exactly.
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London may have been the epicenter of the sexual revolution in the mid-1960s but that still didn't make it easy to see adult entertainment on the screen. The dreaded Office of the Censor wielded Draconian power as the guardians of British morality. Hence, the only place you could see anything remotely erotic on film was through 8mm "loops", short films that ran only minutes. The closest mainstream cinemas got to playing films with nudity was through pretentious "documentaries" that exposed the sordid side of London's nightlife or life in a nudist colony. In reality, these denouncements of promiscuous sex existed strictly to capitalize on promiscuous sex and everyone knew it. Pete Walker was an enterprising young entrepreneur who tried to fill the gap for sex-starved Britons by shooting hastily-arranged, no-budget black and white exploitation films that lasted only minutes. Walker had started in the even more staid early part of the decade by hiring well-endowed, free-spirited young woman to "star" in his modest productions. There was no shortage of talent, as Briton did have a booming market in glamour magazines that featured nude models and starlets. Walker would shoot the silent B&W films on 8mm before graduating to 16mm. The final product would be sold in local book shops for extravagant prices. Walker and the store made tidy profits and the consumer could feast his eyes on some bare female flesh. Everyone was a winner.
In 1969 Walker decided to do something far more ambitious by creating a film with an actual story line and populated by people who could really act. The result was "For Men Only" (AKA "Hot Girls For Men Only"), a ribald comedy that ran a scant 43 minutes but had production values that looked like "Gone With the Wind" compared to his earlier efforts. David Kernan (who played Pvt. Hitch in "Zulu" a few years before) plays Freddie Horn, a young man engaged to marry Rosalie (Andrea Allen). However, she demands that he quit his job as fashion editor for a prominent journal because he is generally assigned to interview beautiful young models who wear barely-there new clothing lines. She's right to be jealous, as Freddie has been living quite the life, indulging in the "fringe benefits" of being around so many willing young women. Reluctantly, he applies for a job as a writer for a bland magazine that will ensure he has no exposure to the fairer sex. He is summoned from London to the countryside to meet his prospective new employer, Miles Fanthorpe (Derek Aylward). He meets Fanthorpe at a local church where he is giving a stern lecture on morality and the decay of society, which he attributes to permissive sex and increasing tolerance of homosexuality. The small crowd responds enthusiastically to his conservative, fire-and-brimstone rant. Freddie is understandably depressed at the prospect of working for such a man but the first clue that not all is as it seems occurs when Fanthorpe gives him a lift back to his manor house- in an Aston Martin DB5. Once at the house, Fanthorpe comes clean. His uses his reputation as a conservative prude to mask his real personality which is that of a sex-obsessed rogue. Fanthorpe then introduces Freddie to his staff, which consists of busty young women of loose morals who spend the entire day romping around in bikinis or sunning themselves while topless. Freddie is understandably delighted to accept the job of writing for one of Fanthorpe's publications that deals with nude models. Within minutes, he is immersed in a virtual orgy- and he understandably forgets a vitally important social engagement for that evening. Seems he has to accompany Rosalie and her parents to a black tie dinner to celebrate their wedding anniversary. The parents can't stand Freddie as it is and have warned Rosalie that he is addicted to skirt chasing. When Freddie doesn't turn up for dinner, Rosalie sets out to trace his whereabouts and ends up at the country manner where she sees the real scenario. Naturally, through happenstance even her prudish parents show up along with a local parson, resulting in a chaotic scene that culminates with a bevy of bikini girls being stuffed into the DB5 for a fast getaway. (Not even 007 enjoyed that privilege.) Although one could term the film as a "sexploitation" title, that doesn't do it justice. "For Men Only" is actually quite amusing and features some very fine comedic performances. The sexual content is quite mild but there is something erotic about seeing these lovely young actresses cavort about while scantily clad. It's like Matt Helm on steroids.
The other feature, "School for Sex", also features Derek Aylward in essentially the same kind of role he played in "For Men Only". Here he is an upper-crust type named Giles Wingate who inherited a manor house and a fortune and blew through it all by marrying a series of opportunistic golddiggers. To pay off his debts, he engages in some dubious financial tactics that end up with him being criminally prosecuted. He's spared a jail sentence and put on probation but still needs to find a way to pay for his lavish lifestyle as well as the salary for his elderly, intensely loyal butler. He comes up with an inspired idea. Since he was snookered by so many lovely young women, he decides to open a "School for Sex" on his premises. The idea is to charge beautiful young women a hefty fee for instructing them how to seduce wealthy men and ensure their financial well-being. In order to carry out the plan, he needs some female assistance. He hires the Duchess of Burwash, a widowed hot-to-trot middle-aged cougar played by Rose Alba, who main claim to fame was her short but memorable appearance as the SPECTRE "widow" who gets socked by James Bond in the opening of "Thunderball". She's a boozy opportunist but she delivers the goods in terms of instructing her students how to seduce naive men. Before long, there are more students than Wingate can accommodate. Rich families are sending their daughters for instruction, thinking they will be attending a finishing school for sophisticated young women. Instead, they will run around naked and engage in sex techniques. The film comes to an ironic conclusion as Wingate becomes a victim of his own success. "School for Sex" is described by Pete Walker as the worst movie he ever made. He blames himself for not getting a professional screenwriter and trying to keep costs down by writing the script himself. Although not as polished as "For Men Only", it still has its amusing moments and there is plenty of eye candy in the form of the lovely young ladies. The performances of Aywayrd and Alba are also very funny. The film is a bit more daring than "For Men Only" in that it does include topless sequences and a glimpse or two of full nudity.
Kino Lorber has released both films as a Blu-ray double feature edition. Both remastered prints look excellent and the special features in the package are most welcome. Pete Walker provides a new filmed interview and gives some interesting insights into the world of sexploitation films in England during the 1960s. There are also numerous Walker "loops", the early B&W silent nudie flicks as well as a trailer for "School for Sex" and alternate footage from the film featuring full nudity that was shot for the Japanese market.
In summary, it's a delightful trip down Mammary Lane for anyone who appreciates the low-brow pleasures of such "naughty" entertainment.
Among our most popular articles are those pertaining to video availability of vintage erotica (You old perverts!). Vinegar Syndrome, which has rescued countless grindhouse titles from the 1960s-1980s, has just released one of their most ambitious titles yet, "All Night at the Po-No", consisting of three DVDs packed with features and shorts that all played at the Po-No Theatre in L.A during the 1970s. Don't be immediately dismissive of all of these films, as some do show talent in the construction of reasonably compelling story lines. Surprisingly, when given an actual script to follow, some of the performers also show skill in terms of acting ability, so you can at least assure your significant other that you are watching these only for their artistic merits.
Here is the official press release:
Vinegar Syndrome presents its new ‘Storefront Theatre
Collection’, which celebrates both the strange and often homegrown productions
that played in ‘mini-theatres’ of the 70s. This special-edition 3-disc set is
uniquely packaged in 100% recycled card stock and features a heavy-duty
Throughout the early to mid 1970s, the most common way to
see underground feature films was to visit a ‘storefront theatre.’ Sometimes
referred to as ‘mini-theatres’ or ‘shoebox theatres,’ these small venues were
often converted retail stores armed with nothing more than a couple projectors
and nailed down folding chairs. And, unlike larger houses like the Pussycat
chain, the films screened in these small and cozy spaces were low-budget 16mm
efforts, affectionately known as one-day-wonders.
Hundreds of these theatres dotted the American landscape,
and with them, the most truly independent and underground filmmakers found a
place to exhibit their work.
In this first volume we focus on Los Angeles’ PO-NO
Theatre with 12 examples of LA made films, produced between 1970 and 1973.
Included titles are Huck Walker’s unrelentingly ALL AMERICAN HUSTLER, Anthony
Spinelli’s bizarre vampire comedy SUCKULA, Rik Tazi’ner’s low rent costume
saga, THE EROTIC ADVENTURES OF HERCULES, as well as anonymously directed
efforts like CARNAL-GO-ROUND, SEX BEFORE MARRIAGE, HOMER THE LATE COMER, and
the experimental subjective-camera feature, EROTIC POINT OF VIEW, in addition
to five more surprise feature films featuring early genre stars like Rene Bond,
Sandy Dempsey, John Holmes, and more. All films have been scanned in 2k from
rare original theatrical prints to re-create the experience of stumbling into
the PO-NO late one evening and not leaving until dawn the next day.
Directed by: Various
1970-1973 / 740 minutes / Color / 1.33:1
Actors: Rene Bond, John Holmes, Sandy Dempsey, etc, etc…
• All films scanned and restored in 2k from ultra-rare
• Features two bonus short films
Cagney is Fleet Admiral William F. Halsey, Jr., USN in “The Gallant Hours,”
available on Blu-ray for the first time by Kino Lorber. Affectionately known as
“Bull” Halsey, the movie is a biography of
Halsey told in a semi-documentary style with most of the narration provided by
Robert Montgomery, who introduces people, locations and explains the action
occurring off stage. Montgomery, a distinguished Us Naval officer in WWII, also happens to be the director of the movie
and this is his final effort on film.
movie opens at Halsey’s retirement ceremony, incorrectly stated as 22 November
1945 (Halsey retired from active duty in March 1947). Reflecting in his cabin with
his steward, retiring Chief Petty Officer Manuel Salvador Jesus Maravilla (Leon
Lontoc), the movie flashes back to the Battle of Guadalcanal as Halsey takes
command of American forces in the South Pacific on 16 October 1942. Once he
arrives on board his flag ship, Halsey forms staff and they come up with a strategy
for holding the island and defeating the Japanese. Halsey is a commanding,
straightforward man making the best of grim circumstances, but he’s earned the
respect of the men he commands. At the time the Japanese were still in a strong
position to win the war, but in spite of the odds against them, American forces
prevailed at Guadalcanal making the American victory in the Pacific a turning
point in the war against the Japanese Empire.
movie is unusual in a number of different ways. It has an unconventional score
composed by Roger Wagner, using a choir rather than an orchestra. There is some
incidental music, but according to IMDB, there was a musicians strike during
production and the score is largely sung by the Roger Wagner Chorale. The movie
predates other WWII movies like “Tora! Tora! Tora!” by depicting key figures on
the opposing side in their preparations for battle, which humanizes them in a
thoughtful and sincere way. The movie is unique for a WWII drama as it contains
no actual battle scenes, has no action scenes and relies heavily on the
characters and narrator explaining to the audience what’s going on. Suspense is
created via the radio transmissions and the actions of Halsey and his staff as
they react to the battle. Most of the scenes take place on sets recreating
aircraft and ship interiors with location shooting in San Diego standing in for
Guadalcanal and ship deck scenes. Somehow, it all works and I thoroughly
enjoyed the movie.
film benefits from beautiful black and white photography by Joseph MacDonald
which is filled with scenes of self reflection by Halsey in his spartan
quarters as he listens to radio messages and reacts to news. Cagney gives an
outstanding performance as the grizzled and outspoken Halsey and the movie includes
a wonderful cast of supporting actors with Dennis Weaver in a memorable
performance as Halsey’s aid and pilot, Lieutenant Commander Andrew Jefferson
Lowe III. Richard Jaeckel is also on hand in a brief role as battle weary
pilot, Lt. Commander Roy Webb.
in June 1960 (less than a year after Halsey’s death) by United Artists, the
movie would be one of the last for Cagney. It has been criticized by
nit-pickers for several historical inaccuracies and the viewer should be aware
that the movie takes a few liberties, but these are minor and do not detract
from the story. The film has a 115 minute running time and the Kino Lorber Blu-ray
looks beautiful and sounds terrific. The disc contains the trailer for this and
two other movies as the only extras.
Westerns exist in a surreal alternate universe filled with new landscapes, new
faces, new music, extreme violence and a slightly askew version of the Hollywood
western story that veered into new territory literally and figuratively. The
Spanish desert locations are unfamiliar and surreal filled with gunshots that
ricochet, echo and often sound like cannons. Good and bad men are not as we may
perceive them and behave in unexpected ways. Women and children are treated
harshly and often come to an early demise. Anachronistic cowboys, lawmen,
gunslingers, bandits and outlaws use guns and ammunition that may not have
existed during the period, but somehow it doesn’t really matter. We accept the
juxtaposition whether we are aware of it or not because Spaghetti Westerns are
a fantasy version of the fantasy west created by Hollywood. Hundreds of
Spaghetti Westerns followed the release of Sergio Leone’s “A Fistful of
Dollars,” “For a Few Dollars More” and “The Good, the Bad and the Ugly,” and
changed our expectations for the genre.
Maria Volonte and Thomas Milian team up as unlikely allies in “Face to Face,” a
1967 Spaghetti Western available on Blu-ray by Kino Lorber. The movie opens
with history professor Brett Fletcher (Volonte) announcing to his students that
he’s leaving for Texas due to poor health. In his new life in the desert,
Fletcher looks pale and sickly, spending his days relaxing in the sun with his
mistress (Linda Veras). A stagecoach stops at his hotel with two sheriff
deputies escorting the bandit Solomon “Beauregard” Bennet (Milian). Fletcher
takes pity on Bennet, who takes advantage of the diversion and holds Fletcher as
his hostage and is shot during the escape. When he passes out from his wound, Fletcher
continues to help him escape.
agent Charlie Siringo (William Berger) runs into Bennet and Fletcher and seeks
to infiltrate Bennet’s Raiders by pretending to be an outlaw himself and
eventually succeeds. Fletcher is sent away by Bennet and convinced to return
back home in the East. While waiting for his train in Purgatory City, he sees
Bennet ride into town. Fletcher saves Bennet in a gunfight with about a dozen men
seeking Bennet’s bounty. Joining up with Bennet, they meet up with former
members of Bennet’s Raiders. Bennet is a sort of Robin Hood and the leader of a
large group of people, including women and children, living in the desert. The
women in the group vary from the beautiful Maria (Jolanda Modio) to Cattle
Annie (Carole Andre) who also happens to have a crush on Bennet, but both women
have very little to do other than to represent the Hollywood western tropes of
a mistress and the girl who dresses like a boy. They live a harsh life and are
treated badly, but stand by Bennet and Fletcher.
by the group and their way of life, Fletcher takes an active role as the
raiders rob a train and the passengers. Fletcher comes up with a bank robbery
plan that results in the capture of Bennet, but reveals Siringo as a traitor.
Fletcher takes over the gang running it with an intellectual ruthlessness, his
health improving as his character becomes more outlaw than professor. He leads
the group on a trek across the desert where many are killed by bounty hunters.
Bennet escapes his captors with Siringo hot on his trail and they eventually
meet up with Fletcher for a final showdown.
“Face To Face” takes place during the American Civil War, the movie does not
depict the war in any way other then making reference to it in a few scenes.
Charlie Siringo was a real man and a Pinkerton agent, too, but I suspect the
similarities end there. The movie has political overtones dealing with race,
class, gender and fascism and the 1967 release hints at the escalation of the
Vietnam War, but it can be enjoyed on its own merits as an engaging western.
by Sergio Sollima (“The Big Gundown,” “Run Man Run”), the movie didn’t receive
a theatrical release in America until 1976 which is a pity because it is one of
the better entries in the genre. Fortunately, “Face To Face” is available on Blu-ray
from Kino Lorber and it looks and sounds very good. Volonte is terrific and so are
Milian and Berger. The opening credits are reminiscent of those for “The Good,
the Bad and the Ugly” and the movie includes an outstanding score by Ennio
Morricone. The extra features on the disc include a trailer for another Kino Lorber
release and an option to watch the movie in the original Italian. The Italian
version is not in HD and looks its age, but includes English subtitles and is a
welcome feature for fans of the genre.
Carlos Tobalina was among the most prolific of adult film directors. From the late 1960s through the late 1980s, Tobalina ground out dozens of grind house porn flicks and, no fool he, appeared in any number of them as well, though often not in the sex scenes. What set Tobalina's films apart was the fact that he at least tried to instill some quality and occasional social messages into what was otherwise undistinguished fare. Tobalina, who died at age 64 in 1989, would probably have appreciated the fact that Vinegar Syndrome has been releasing quite a few of his titles in remastered DVD editions that probably look better than they did back in the day. Among these releases is a Tobalina double feature that he directed under one of his alter ego names, Troy Benny. Both of the movies have a common theme in that they star one William Margold, who apparently was quite influential in the adult film industry of the 1980s and is still appearing in sleazy movies today even though he is in his seventies. He is also a social activist, having founded the Free Speech Coalition and established a charity to look after down-and-out veterans of the porn industry. First up in the double feature is "Lust Inferno", a 1982 production in which Margold appears as a corrupt TV evangelist (is there any other kind?). Margold, who is curiously billed as "Mr. William Margold" (not even Orson Welles had that much clout), stars as Rev. Jerry, a charismatic preacher who rips off the suckers in his audience by indulging in the usual fire-and-brimstone sermons. He also "cures" invalids who he pays off in cash backstage after the event. At home, Rev. Jerry is very much a family man, but it's probably not the kind of family most of us could relate to. His wife (Rita Ricardo) is frustrated that the Rev won't indulge in intercourse with her because he believes the act is only for procreation. He does indulge in some other sexual activities with her that are entirely for his satisfaction. Consequently, she goes off to "group therapy" sessions that are actually bi-sexual orgies. Rev. Jerry's oldest daughter, Dora (Tamara Longley) does the same with her teenage friends because dad won't allow her to date anyone. (The effectiveness of that strategy seems to be dubious, at best.) Meanwhile, the youngest daughter, Lucy (Marguerite Nuit) is also finding it hard to deal with her raging hormones. She asks for- and receives- her mother's permission to adopt a disguise and seek work in the local bordello that is run by Madame Blanche (Lina Spencer). What Lucy and no one else in the family knows is that her father is Madame Blanche's best customer. He pays thousands of dollars for S&M sex sessions with Blanche's young hookers. This plot development leads to the film's ironic conclusion in which Reverend Jerry finally pays a terrible price for his immorality- but it also results in a major "Yuck" factor for the viewer. The hardcore scenes are pretty standard for the era with nothing particularly inventive going on but at least director Tobalina attempts to make a statement about the craze for supporting corrupt TV preachers. In fact, he was a bit ahead of his time. Within a few years some of the best-known televangelists would be brought down in their own sex scandals.
The most enjoyable aspect of the presentation is the recent interview with William Margold on a commentary track. Margold describes himself as a blowhard and its difficult to take issue with him. We're all for admiring anyone who takes pride in their work but Margold discusses "Lust Inferno" as though it's a major achievement. He indicates that he based his interpretation of the Reverend on Richard Brooks' 1960 film version of "Elmer Gantry" and says that back in the day he even met Burt Lancaster and correctly predicted he would win an Oscar for the role. The most amusing aspect of the commentary track has Margold, who was obviously watching a sub-standard VHS version prior to the film's restoration for DVD, complain constantly about the poor quality of the tape. He also rails against the fact that the version they are watching is missing key sequences, only to have him proven wrong when they turn up later. Margold, like most of the leading men in this peculiar branch of the film industry, was probably chosen more for his physical attributes than his acting abilities, but he seems to think that his work here is top-notch both. In fact, his performance is par for the course for porn films and there is no indication he possessed any admirable skills outside of the boudoir. Speaking of which, Margold waxes nostalgic about some of his sex partners in the movie, including one woman who became his wife and another who he continues to pine away for because he never appeared in a sex scene with her, sort of like the fisherman who gripes about "the one who got away". Regarding stock footage in the film of real life audiences at televangelist events, Margold chuckles and wonders if they ever knew they would end up in a porn film. It's also quite eye-opening to listen to Margold give the play-by-play for his on-screen antics and to provide opinions about his personal techniques for self-pleasure. Margold may indeed be a blowhard but he makes for an entertaining commentator. You have to admire Vinegar Syndrome for creating some value-added content that is both funny and insightful because it gives you an idea of what the adult film industry was like from the viewpoint of one of its veterans.
The second feature on the DVD is "Marathon", a lazy production even by the low standards one would have expected for the genre. Shot in 1982, it's a quickie that features a lot of major stars from the industry including Ron Jeremy, Jamie Gillis. Sharon Mitchell and John Holmes. The "plot" simply features a large group of swingers who attend a costume party at Gillis's apartment. Everyone is getting it on while attired in crazy costumes when a phone call alerts them that a friend (William Margold) and his wife have been injured in a skiing accident and they are both in the hospital. Deciding to provide the kind of bedside companionship that no doctor would, they all barge into the hospital suite where Margold and his wife are being treated. Here, while still in costume, they resume the orgy. The therapy works as both patients join in the action. The film is played entirely for laughs and is therefore about as erotic as a dip in a pool of ice water.
The transfers of both features look very good with vibrant colors and enough original film stock grain to make you nostalgic for the era.
Cornell Woolrich is a writer whose work was much loved
and cherished by fans of film noir. The
Internet Movie Database lists 102 credits for him for both film and TV
shows—titles including “Rear Window,” “The Bride Wore Black,” “The Night Has a
Thousand Eyes,” “Black Angel,” “Fear in the Night,” and “Phantom Lady,” He
didn’t write any screenplays that I know of. The films and TV shows were all adapted from a prolific output of
stories written under his Woolrich and William Irish pseudonyms, and under his
real name, George Hopley.
While Raymond Chandler, Dashiell Hammett, and James M.
Cain make up the Big Three in noir fiction, Woolrich carved out a special niche
for himself. Chandler, and Hammett wrote about tough guy heroes who usually
overcame the web of evil they encountered. Cain’s heroes weren’t always so
lucky, but at least they had a toughness about them that gave them a fighting
chance. Woolrich’s protagonists, on the other hand, were just the opposite.
They were guys or gals not really equipped by experience or temperament to
handle what fate had in store for them, but who tried to do the best they could
to keep their heads above water. There was always a sense of impending,
irrevocable doom, and a surrealistic atmosphere that set his tales apart from
Nowhere was that surreal quality more prominent than in one
particular low-budget feature from Nero Pictures called “The Chase “(1946). Directed by Arthur D. Ripley and adapted by
screenwriter Philip Yordan from Woolrich’s story “The Black Path of Fear,” “The
Chase” stars Robert Cummings as Chuck Scott, a man down on his luck in Miami
who finds the wallet of rich gangster, Eddie Roman, played menacingly by Steve
Cochran. When Chuck knocks on the door
of Roman’s mansion to return the wallet, you’d think he might have been a
little leery when a peep hole opens and we get a glimpse of an eyeball peering
out, and we hear Peter Lorre’s unmistakable voice asking, “What do you want?” Lorre
plays Gino, Roman’s right hand man.
Chuck is the proverbial fly stepping into the spider’s
parlor. For being such an honest guy, Roman hires him as his chauffeur. While
under Roman’s employ he meets the gangster’s wife Lorna, a sad blonde played by
French actress Michelle Morgan. Roman is a mean guy who slaps his wife around
and likes to inflict psychological cruelty, like a kid tearing the wings off of
flies. He likes to be in the driver’s seat too. Literally. In a bit of
weirdness concocted by Yordan, Roman has separate brake and accelerator pedals
in the back of his limo so he can take over when Chuck’s behind the wheel. He
tests Chuck’s tolerance for mental torture by driving the speedometer past 120,
while trying to outrace a train on the tracks ahead. Chuck remains cool and at
the last minute Eddie hits the brake. Roman turns to Gino, who’s looking a
little green around the gills, and says: “Hey, he’s alright.”
Chuck’s main job seems to be chauffeuring Lorna around on
long drives at night. She likes to stop at the beach and go out on a pier and
stare out over the water. Chuck feels sorry for her and besides, she ain’t bad to
look at. She asks Chuck what’s out there and he tells her Cuba, and she says
“Take me.” Despite his fear that Eddie is suspicious, he takes her to Cuba by
ship and no sooner do they stop in a Havana bar for a drink and a quick dance,
when Lorna collapses in his arms with a knife in her back. He’s suspect No. 1,
naturally, but a Cuban cop (Alexis Minotis) gives him a chance to try and
explain his way out of it. And, of course, all he does is get himself into
further trouble. He knows Eddie or Gino did it, but he’s got to get some
evidence. He has to make a break for it. All of this leads up to a really
strange midpoint in the story where suddenly everything takes a wild,
Yordan’s screenplay for “The Chase” plays fast and loose
with Woolrich’s original story, and how much you’ll enjoy the movie may depend
on how much of a Woolrich purist you are. Yordan and producer Seymour Nebenzal changed
the structure of the book. The novel opens with Lorna’s murder and Chucks’
attempts to clear himself. He finds an ally in a Cuban woman whose husband was
killed by cops, and the Miami portion of the story is told in flashbacks. The
restructuring and the new ending that Yordan came up with changed the story
considerably, but by providing a new background element showing Chuck to be a
returning WW II veteran with some psychological problems, it probably seemed
more plausible to audiences in the post- war America of the mid-forties. The
returning vet unable to adapt to a corrupted civilian life became a basic trope
of the genre. “The Chase” is not pure Woolrich but in its own way, it provides an
even more nightmarish finish than the original.
“The Chase” is one of those obscure little movies that
until now has only been available in very poor copies on VHS and DVD. The
picture was so dark and murky you could hardly make out the action in the night
scenes and dialogue was obscured by noise on the soundtrack. But Kino Lorber has
released a newly restored Blu-ray mastered from 35 mm elements preserved by the
UCLA Film & Television Archive. The restored picture is excellent. Contrast
and clarity are first rate, with very few flaws. Franz Planer’s impressionistic
black and white photography is shown off to great effect. The only complaint
might be that some of the interior shots inside Roman’s mansion are now a
little too bright—somewhat jarring for a movie that takes place in the twilit
world of dreams and nightmares. The soundtrack is crystal clear, however, allowing
Michel Michelet’s lush soundtrack to be heard to full advantage.
The 1920 x 1080p disc presents the film in 1:33 full-screen
aspect ratio, and has an informative audio commentary track by Canadian
filmmaker Guy Maddin. (Maddin’s only error is to misidentify Jack Holt, who
plays an Army shrink, as Bruce Cabot). Also included are two radio adaptations
of “The Black Path of Fear,” one starring Cary Grant. Overall, Kino Lorber gets
high marks for “The Chase.” It should be in every film noir lover’s collection.
character makes an excuse for the bad behavior of Dixon Steele, a Hollywood
screenwriter played by Humphrey Bogart, by saying, “He’s a writer—people like
him can afford to be temperamental.”
in the same year as Billy Wilder’s acerbic film
noir attack on Tinsel Town, Sunset
Boulevard, and Joseph L. Mankiewicz’s similar assault on show business, All About Eve, Nicholas Ray’s In a Lonely Place was nowhere near as
popular—but it was just as scathing. It may not have been a box office success,
but the picture’s reputation has grown considerably over the decades, mainly
because Bogart’s performance as a bitter, angry movie scribe ranks among his
best onscreen personas. But it’s not pretty. The guy has anger management
issues, the likes of which probably had not been seen in a mainstream film
prior to the picture’s release. Dixon Steele is a tinder box ready to explode,
and of course he does, more than once, during the course of the story. Bogart
isn’t afraid to expose a dark side of himself in his portrayal of a man who
has, as his love interest observes, “something wrong with him.”
woman is Laurel, played by Gloria Grahame (who, at the time, was married to the
director). At first she provides an alibi to the police for Steele, who might
be a suspect in a young woman’s murder. After Dixon and Laurel fall in love,
their relationship is a stormy one. As outlined in one the supplements
contained on this new Criterion disk, the “romance” mirrors that of Nicholas
Ray and Gloria Grahame’s—they also had a tempestuous bond. It was so sticky
that Grahame had to sign a contract stating she would agree to follow Ray’s
direction during the making of the film. (And talk about sex scandals... Ray later
caught Grahame in bed with his thirteen-year-old son from a previous marriage.
Grahame eventually married the
step-son after her divorce from both Ray and another spouse in-between!)
the tale revolves around an unsolved murder investigation, In a Lonely Place is really about two lost souls trying to connect.
It’s more of a melodrama than a film noir,
although the stylistic traits of the latter certainly abound. This is not a
pleasant movie; in fact, it’s quite disturbing for a picture from 1950.
Bogart’s Dix Steele is not a likable guy, and yet we watch the train wreck that
is his life with morbid fascination. Why Bogie wasn’t nominated for a Best
Actor Oscar that year is a mystery—perhaps it was because audiences may have
been turned off by the character’s mean-spirited nastiness. Nevertheless, Lonely Place is a remarkable piece of
work, not only from Bogart, but also from Grahame and director Ray.
Criterion Collection’s new Blu-ray release features a 2K digital restoration
with an uncompressed soundtrack and a new audio commentary with film scholar
Dana Polan. The noteworthy supplements include a 40-minute excerpt from I’m a Stranger Here Myself, a 1975
documentary about Ray; a revealing new interview with Grahame’s biographer,
Vincent Curcio; a 2002 piece on the making of the movie, featuring filmmaker
Curtis Hanson; a radio adaptation from 1948 of the original Dorothy B. Hughes
novel and starring Robert Montgomery; and the theatrical trailer. An essay by
critic Imogen Sara Smith appears in the booklet.
you like your film noir tough, mean,
and nasty, then In a Lonely Place should
be right up your sleazy alley. At the same time, the tortured romance should
appeal to love-cynics everywhere. It’s so dark, it makes a Bogart/Bacall movie
look like a Tracy/Hepburn flick.
actors have occupied the role of Sherlock Holmes over the decades, some more suited
to the shoes of author Arthur Conan Doyle's famous consulting detective than
others. One of the finest portrayals is that by Ian Richardson. Yet, sadly, his
is also one that is often overlooked, not leastways because he played the
character just twice (in a pair of 1983 films made for television), but also
because his light was to be quickly eclipsed a year later by the arrival on TV
screens of Jeremy Brett, whose interpretation of Holmes is considered by many
to be the definitive one.
Weintraub – who produced several Tarzan movies throughout the 60s and was executive
producer on the popular long-running Ron Ely TV series –teamed up with Otto
Plaschkes (whose producer credits include Georgie
Girl and The Holcroft Covenant)
with the intention of making several Holmes adventures headlining Richardson. But
when it became apparent that Granada TV was to launch its own series starring
Brett, their plans were abandoned in a rights furore that resulted in a
substantial out of court settlement in Weintraub’s favour. The two films that
Weintraub and Plaschkes did bring to
realisation were The Hound of the Baskervilles
and The Sign of Four, two of only
four full-length Holmes novels written by Conan Doyle. Both were shot on exquisite
sets constructed at England's Shepperton Studios and include some splendid
location work utilising the likes of Devonshire country house Knightshayes
Court (doubling for Baskerville Hall) and London's River Thames (with some canny
employ of theatrical smog to abet the disguise of non-period background
The Hound of the
Baskervilles is probably the most famous of all Holmes's adventures
and one of the most filmed. Yet it is also one that largely sidelines the great
detective from the action for its middle third. The familiar plot finds our detective
investigating death believed connected to a centuries old family curse and the
legend of a demonic canine that allegedly haunts the eerie fog-wreathed
moorlands surrounding the Baskerville estate.
by Charles Edward Pogue (whose later work included David Cronenberg’s remake of
The Fly) and directed by Douglas
Hickox (whose CV includes such 70s screen favourites as Brannigan and Theatre of
Blood), like many before and since this isn't verbatim Conan Doyle. But
that certainly doesn't detract from its worth as a cracking piece of
entertainment. It's handsomely staged (the foreboding moors, awash with
swirling fog, are at night as effectively nightmarish a Grimpen Mire as ever
brought to the screen), with lush production values that completely belie its
TV movie origins. It also boasts hands down the best depiction of the spectral,
yellow-eyed titular beast to date.
however, it benefits from an endearingly charismatic central performance from
Ian Richardson; in many scenes the actor bears a startling resemblance to this
writer's favourite Holmes, Basil Rathbone. Donald Churchill's interpretation of
faithful ally Dr John Watson leans towards a bumbling nature that irks purists
and doesn't rank as one of the more noteworthy, while Martin Shaw's Sir Henry Baskerville
is hindered by horrible dubbing. Nevertheless, add in a marvellous assembly of supporting
players – including Denholm Elliott (who'd previously appeared in 1978's woeful
spoof version of the story), Glynis Barber, Ronald Lacey (as Inspector
Lestrade), Eleanor Bron, Connie Booth, Brian Blessed and Edward Judd – and
Hickox's film is markedly one of the most star-spangled versions of the
The Sign of Four is comparatively
a slightly more grounded and sedate affair, though at least Richardson's Holmes
get more screen time. Again adapted from Conan Doyle’s novel by Charles Edward Pogue,
more so than Hound it takes dramatic
liberties with its source narrative (rearranging events and introducing new,
slightly superfluous material), yet also in keeping with its predecessor it is
hugely enjoyable. Directed by Desmond Davis (Clash of the Titans), this one finds Holmes following a trail of murders
born of a broken pact between thieves relating to a treasure of precious
gemstones and jewellery.
Healy steps in as a fine Watson (though again the character is played as a
little more maladroit than his literary self) and there are strong turns by
Thorley Walters (who previously played Watson twice, opposite Christopher Lee’s
and Douglas Wilmer’s Sherlocks respectively, in 1962’s The Valley of Fear and 1975 screwball comedy The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes' Smarter Brother) and Cherie Lunghi
as the delectable Mary Morstan (who, in the novel – but not here – gets engaged
to Watson). But overall this is a less starry affair than Hound. All the same, there are nice performances from Terence Rigby
as Inspector Layton (a curious name switch, for he's clearly meant to be
Lestrade), Joe Melia as the despicable peg-legged villain of the piece and John
Pedrick as his savage sidekick.
Hound before it, The Sign of Four boasts a rich cinematic mien that bests many actual big screen Holmes adventures.
one can certainly lament that Ian Richardson made only these two Holmes movies,
that they're both exceptionally good is reward enough. And both are now available
on Blu-ray and DVD in the UK from Second Sight, each with a bonus audio
commentary from Holmes enthusiast David Stuart Davies. The 4K restoration for
the Blu-rays is quite honestly breathtaking; one can scarcely believe that 33-year-old
TV movies could look so good. There is, however, a caveat: the 1.78:1 aspect
ratio presentation of the two films. Back in 1983 they were shot for then-standard
4:3 television format and the decision to force fit the image to modern widescreen
TV sets has played merry havoc with the composition in some shots, at its most
injurious when the tops of heads are rudely shorn off. It’s more noticeable in The Sign of Four than in The Hound of the Baskervilles but it’s a
frequent distraction just the same. This disappointment aside though, these
releases can't come more heartily recommended, both to Holmes fans (who will
snap them up regardless of any perceived shortcomings remarked upon here) and
those who simply enjoy a good solid evening’s entertainment.
A shot from The Sign of Four in its original 4:3 aspect ratio.
The same shot as presented on Second Sight’s 1.78:1 aspect DVD and Blu-ray release.
should be noted that the Blu-ray release is coded Region B and the DVD is Region
2. The films are also being made available for download and on-demand in both
standard and high definition.
MGMhas released the 1970 Western Cannon For Cordoba as part of their burn-to-DVD line. This is yet another film that was written off as "run of the mill" at the time of its initial release but probably plays far better today when Westerns are scare commodities. The film is clearly designed to capitalize on movies such as The Professionals and The Wild Bunch, and while it certainly isn't in the league of those classics, it's a consistently engrossing and highly entertaining horse opera. Set in 1916, when the US was embroiled in assisting the Mexican government in suppressing "revolutionaries" who were really bandits, the plot centers on a crime kingpin named General Coroba (well played with charm and menace by Raf Vallone), who launches an audacious raid on American General Pershing's troops and succeeds in stealing a number of valuable cannons that will make him almost invulnerable to attack once they have been installed at his remote mountaintop fortress retreat. George Peppard is Captain Douglas, a hard-bitten and insolent cavalry officer in Pershing's command who is sent on a virtual suicide mission to infiltrate Cordoba's compound, blow up the cannons and kidnap the general. Imagine The Guns of Navarone with sombreros. He takes along the standard rag-tag team of tough guys which includes Peter Duel and the always-reliable Don Gordon, seen here in one of the most prominent roles of his career. That old chestnut of a plot device is introduced: Gordon has sworn to kill Peppard at the end of the mission for allowing his brother to be tortured to death by Cordoba.
The group pretends they are American sympathizers to the revolution and succeed in infiltrating the compound with the help of Leonora (comely Giovanna Ralli), who intends to seduce the general and then betray him in revenge for having raped her years before. The film is as gritty as it gets, and as in the Sergio Leone Westerns, there is a very thin line that separates the villains from the heroes. Peppard is in full Eastwood mode, chomping on omnipresent cigars and saying little. He betrays no sentiment and is almost as cruel as the criminal he seeks to bring to justice.
Director Paul Wendkos keeps the action moving at a fast clip and there is at least one very surprising plot device that adds considerable suspense to the story. The action sequences are stunningly staged and quite spectacular, and it's all set to a very lively and enjoyable score by Elmer Bernstein. Cannon for Coroba may not be a classic, but it's consistently well-acted and will keep you entertained throughout.
The DVD contains the original theatrical trailer
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