By Darren Allison, Cinema Retro Soundtracks Editor
It was back in 2005 that I last reviewed Guido
and Maurizio De Angelis’s Piedone a Hong Kong (1975). A multi layered and
hugely enjoyable score to the Bud Spencer poliziotteschi-comedy film directed
by Stefano Vanzina (aka Steno). Piedone a Hong Kong was the second of four
"Flatfoot" films, all of which featured Spencer as the Naples Police
Inspector "Flatfoot" Rizzo. In 2005 it was the new Digitmovies CD,
which in itself was a nicely produced album consisting of 70 minutes of music.
Some eighteen years on, Chris’ Soundtrack
Corner decided to dig a little deeper and as a result, produced a super two-CD
version of Piedone a Hong Kong (CSC 035), the label’s first two-disc release. Rizzo's signature theme composed for the first
film embodied the De Angelis' penchant for flavourful, catchy melodies. The
theme was carried over into all four movies and naturally became the primary
motif heard in Piedone a Hong Kong. This time, it was aided by an exotic
electric guitar that works well to identify the luxurious Hong Kong landscape
as well as accommodating Rizzo's cheerful, uninhibited nature, just as it would
later in the detective's adventures in Africa and Egypt. Reprising their
infectious main theme from the first Piedone movie, brothers Guido &
Maurizio De Angelis weave their way through Piedone a Hong Kong with a
delightful array of tuneful themes etched with a degree of ethnic Asian music
which energise Rizzo's journey, all of which treats the film's humour and dramatic
action with an equal degree of light-hearted fun and exciting suspense music.
It’s a blend that might seem a little awkward on paper, but it works tremendously
well as a listening experience.
Chris' Soundtrack Corner’s new extended two-CD
edition now consists of 101 minutes of music, incorporating the complete film
score. Disc one (the score) includes a great deal of previously unreleased cues,
while the second disc provides an impressive collection (19 tracks) of
alternative versions, different mixes and the A and B sides of the original
Italian 7” single release (CAM AMP 153) from 1975.
There has obviously been a great deal of
thought behind this release, and Chris' Soundtrack Corner have made sure this
is not just another standard re-issue. There’s an entirely new, fresh vibrancy
about this edition, not only in its content and audio quality (excellently produced
by Christian Riedrich and mastered by Manmade Mastering), but in its packaging
too. A 16-page, full colour illustrated booklet designed by Tobias Kohlhaas accompanies
the CD’s and features detailed, exclusive notes by Randall D. Larson, who
explores the making of the film as well as the score in fine detail. A super
release which deserved of much praise.
It's probably fair to say that Le ultime ore di una vergine (1972) (CSC 040) wasn’t
widely seen outside of it’s native Italy. The film was also known by various
other titles such as The last hours of a virgin, Un Doppio A Meta and Double by
half for its limited American release. However, you’d still be excused had it
passed you by. As so often is the case, it is the music to such obscure titles
that often lives on beyond that of the film itself - and Daniele Patucchi's Le ultime ore di una vergine is no exception to that
rule.
In the 1970s, the genre of Italian melodramas
found fresh and innovative ways to discuss heavy topics against the backdrop of
romantic stories. Until abortion was made legal in 1978, Italian filmmakers
shot dramas cantering around the issue with varying degrees of good taste. Le
ultime ore di una vergine is one of the more constructively made examples of
these ‘abortion’ dramas. The film was co-written and directed by Gianfranco
Piccioli and features a relatively small cast, including Massimo Farinelli (his
last movie) as Enrico, a photographer. Laura, his pregnant girlfriend, is
played by the American-born actress Sydne Rome, perhaps best known as the
fetish-geared archaeologist hypnotised by Donald Pleasence in the rather
dreadful The Pumaman (1980). Enrico's deceitful journalist friend Roberto is played
by Don Backy. But through all of the unfolding drama of Le ultime ore di una
vergine, there's only one winning aspect of the movie, and that's Daniele
Patucchi’s score.
Whilst the Turin born composer has scored
over 50 films, his work has never tended to fall into the realms of mainstream consciousness,
which is a genuine pity as he really deserves much more attention. The score's
central theme is introduced in "Titoli" and is written for the female
character which curiously enough Patucchi titled "Sydne's Theme," basing
it after the actress rather than her character's name. There are also brilliant
recurring motives for other aspects of the story. "I mendicanti"
collects several cues that use the same propulsive energy for a montage
highlighting the various swindles all captured with a POV style of camera. The
score also provides a few suspense cues. In what is arguably the film's strangest
moments, Enrico attends a magic show prompting the composer to provide a seemingly
self-contained cue for one of the story's visually most interesting sequences.
There are also some wonderful, almost improvised, electronic forms of scat
vocals peppered throughout the score where the singer improvises melodies and
rhythms rather than words. Delicate, haunting whispers also fluctuate through certain
cues - all of which work particularly well and really add to the score’s unique
footprint.
This is a world premiere release of the
film's soundtrack – although certain tracks have made their way on various
library compilations of Daniele Patucchi's music in
the past. As mentioned above, this has been fairly typical of Patucchi's recognition,
and the full score as a complete package, is far more beneficial in respects of
Patucchi’s talents as a composer. The CD has two bonus sections, opening with
the record versions of certain cues, which includes the unused version of
"Tema per Sydne," which was originally to appear on the soundtrack
but was actually removed from the film. The second half of the bonus section
includes all the source music heard in the movie including the vocal track "I
Love You More Than Life" with lyrics by Norman Newell.
The audio, again produced by Christian
Riedrich and mastered by Manmade Mastering, is clean and sharp throughout. The
CD is accompanied by a 12-page illustrated booklet featuring detailed notes by
Gergely Hubai. An excellent job for what could have easily become a forgotten
score. Kudos to Chris' Soundtrack Corner
for rescuing it from potential obscurity.
Piero Piccioni’s ...Dopo Di Che, Uccide Il Maschio E Lo Divora (1971) (CSC
041) has, in terms of its soundtrack history, had a somewhat varied life. As a
composer, Piccioni’s work is still highly regarded. Despite that, ...Dopo Di
Che, Uccide Il Maschio E Lo Divora remained a score that perhaps has not been
fully recognised in the past – despite a couple of incarnations. The standard
11 tracks did make their way onto a 2001 Piccioni CD (Screentrax CDST 335)
where it was paired up alongside music from Due Maschi Per Alexa (1971) and La Volpe
Dalla Coda Di Velluto (1971). In later years, it appeared in 2019 under its
American title Marta as a limited edition (300 copies) pressed on white vinyl
and released by Quartet Records (QRLP10) of Spain. Yet, despite of all its bells
and whistles, and in respects of its content, this only contained 12 tracks.
To set the scene, the film is a dramatic
thriller about a wealthy landowner (Miguel) haunted by the spectre of his dead
mother. When Miguel has an affair with a beautiful fugitive who bears a
striking resemblance to his missing wife (who has possibly run away or may have
been murdered) things turn decidedly awkward. Based on a play by Juan José
Alonso Millán, who also co-wrote the screenplay, the film was directed by
Spanish filmmaker José Antonio Nieves Conde. His influence
for the story was not so much the Giallo atmosphere of Dario Argento, as perhaps
some might suspect from its wordy Italian title, but more from the films of
Alfred Hitchcock. Featuring a psychopath linked to a mother and whose hobby is
collecting insects instead of taxidermy, plus a notorious weakness of spying on
beautiful women from hidden holes in the walls, the influences were pretty hard
to ignore.Miguel was played by Irish
actor Stephen Boyd (Ben-Hur, Fantastic Voyage) with Austrian actress Marisa Mell playing both Marta and the missing wife, Pilar. Mell
became very popular in Europe - especially in Italy, where she co-starred in Danger:
Diabolik and many other genre movies. At the time of filming, Boyd was in a
real relationship with Mell, so their charged, on-screen sexuality extended further
beyond their mere dedication to the acting profession.
Piero Piccioni's
score is an interesting and engaging mélange of original cues along with a
large variety of library music or cues tracked in from other films. The
repetition of motifs, textures, and full-on themes throughout the score assertively
integrates the music with the drama playing out on screen. Even with a variety
of individual tracks and musical sequences, Piccioni ties most of them together
by recognisable instrumental patterns and designs that characterise the
uncertain and potentially dangerous liaison between Marta, Pilar, and Miguel. Chris'
Soundtrack Corner have certainly taken up the challenge of ...Dopo Di Che,
Uccide Il Maschio E Lo Divora and its previous shortcomings. For their
presentation, they have opened this expanded release with Piccioni's original
11 album tracks followed by a further 19 tracks featuring the film versions, 17
of which are previously unreleased. There is also another alternate version of
the vocal track "Right or Wrong" sung by the golden voiced American songstress,
Shawn Robinson. As a result, the soundtrack now has a more rounded feel to it
and makes for a ‘fully grown’ listening experience and deserved of a ‘Mission Accomplished’
sticker.
As with their other releases, the score is
beautifully produced by Christian Riedrich and mastered by Manmade Mastering.
The CD is accompanied by a 12-page illustrated booklet featuring detailed notes
by Randall D. Larson. Overall, an excellent trilogy of releases that continue
to see the label grow in both style and stature.
In the estimation of many film scholars the 1970s was the most
adventurous and liberating period in the history of the medium. The new
freedoms in regard to sex, violence and adult themes that had exploded
in the mid-1960s became even more pronounced in the '70s. Among the most
daring studios to take advantage of this trend was United Artists. The
studio had been conceived by iconic actors in the silent era with the
intent of affording artists as much creative control over their
productions as possible. UA had continued to fulfill that promise,
producing a jaw-dropping number of box-office hits and successful film
franchises. The studio also disdained censorship and pushed the envelope
with high profile movie productions. The daring decision to fund the
X-rated "Midnight Cowboy" paid off handsomely. The 1969 production had
not only been a commercial success but also won the Best Picture Oscar. A
few years later UA went even further out on a limb by distributing
"Last Tango in Paris". UA fully capitalized on the worldwide
sensation the movie had made and the many attempts to restrict it from
being shown at all in certain areas of the globe. Like "Midnight
Cowboy", "Tango" was an important film by an important director that
used graphic images of sexual activity for dramatic intensity.
Unfortunately, not every filmmaker who was inspired by these new
freedoms succeeded in the attempt to mainstream X-rated fare during
those years that the rating wasn't only synonymous with low-budget porno
productions. Case in point: screenwriter John Byrum, who made his
directorial debut with "Inserts", a bizarre film that UA released in
1975 that became a legendary bomb. The movie was released some years ago on Blu-ray as a limited edition by the now sadly defunct Twilight Time label. To my knowledge, it isn't available in that format today, although it is streaming on Screenpix, the subscription-based service that can be accessed through Amazon Prime, Roku, YouTube and Apple TV.
The claustrophobic tale resembles a filmed stage production. It is
set primarily in one large living room in a decaying Hollywood mansion.
The time period is the 1930s, shortly after the introduction of sound to
the movie industry resulted in the collapse of silent pictures (Charlie
Chaplin being the notable exception.) The central character, played by
Richard Dreyfuss, is not named but is referred to as "The Boy Wonder".
From our first glimpse of him we know we are seeing a man in trouble. He
is unkempt, dressed in a bathrobe and swizzling booze directly from the
bottle. We will soon learn that he was once a respected mainstream
director of major studio films and was revered by Hollywood royalty. Now
he is a has-been who has resorted to making porn movies in 16mm in his
own home. (Yes, Virginia, people liked to watch dirty movies even way
back then.) He is entertaining a visitor, Harlene (Veronica Cartwright),
a perpetually cheery, bubble-headed young woman who was once a
respected actress but who, like Boy Wonder, has fallen on hard times.
She is now a heroin addict who earns a living by "starring" in Boy
Wonder's porn productions. They make small talk and some names from the
current movie business are bandied about. Harlene tells Boy Wonder that a
rising star named Clark Gable is said to be an admirer of his and wants
to meet him. Instead of responding favorably to this news, Boy Wonder
seems unnerved by it. The implication is that he is locked in a
self-imposed downward spiral and lacks the self-confidence to attempt a
real comeback. Harlene also needles him about his sexual prowess. It
turns out that the king of porn films has long been impotent for reasons
never explained. As they prepare to film some scenes Harlene's male
"co-star" (Stephen Davies) arrives. He is nicknamed Rex, The Wonder Dog,
which seems to bother him especially when the Wonder Boy uses it to
intentionally disparage him. Like Harlene, Rex is short on brains but is
physically attractive. Boy Wonder seems to have a real resentment
towards him, perhaps because Rex is a powerhouse in bed while he can't
get anything going despite directing naked people in sex scenes. It
becomes clear that Boy Wonder and Rex don't like each other. Boy
Wonder ridicules Rex for performing sex acts on male studio executives
who he naively believes will help him become a star. However, their
relationship looks downright friendly compared to the interaction
between Harlene and Rex. When Rex is a little slow in becoming
physically aroused, Harlene mocks him mercilessly. This results in him
essentially subjecting her to a violent rape which thrills Boy Wonder,
who captures it all on film. Harlene doesn't appear to be any worse for
the wear, however, and blithely says she's going off to a bedroom to
rest.
The household is next visited by mobster Big Mac (Bob Hoskins), the
man who finances Boy Wonder's film productions. He is accompanied by his
financee Cathy Cake (Jessica Harper), a pretty young woman who seems to
have a particular interest in the forbidden world of pornography. Big
Mac and Boy Wonder also hate each other. Big Mac berates Boy Wonder for
making his porn flicks too esoteric and artistic for their intended
audiences who just want a cheap thrill. However, for Boy Wonder the porn
films represent the last opportunity he has to demonstrate the
cinematic style and camera angles that once impressed critics and the
public. In the midst of their arguing, it is discovered that a tragedy
has occurred: Harlene has died from a heroin overdose. Everyone seems
nonplussed by the news and Big Mac's only concern is to ditch the body
somewhere quickly. Turns out Rex has a part time job in a funeral parlor
and can arrange for a gruesome plan in which they dump her body inside a
grave that is being prepared for another person's funeral the next day.
The plan is to dig a bit deeper, bury Harlene, then place a layer of
dirt over her and have the "new" body placed on top of hers. As Big Mac
and Rex leave to "undertake" this sordid task, Boy Wonder finds himself
alone with Cathy Cake. She wants to use the time to have Boy Wonder film
her in her own personal porn movie since Big Mac would never let his
"fiancee" do so with his knowledge. She finds the idea of sex on film to
be a stimulant but Boy Wonder won't have any of it. He knows that Big
Mac's volatile temper and ever-present bodyguard could result in him
being the next corpse in the house. Cathy Cake tries another tactic and
feigns interest in Boy Wonder. He lets his guard down and gradually is
seduced by her. She even manages to cure his impotence but the tryst
turns ugly when she learns he has not filmed it. Boy Wonder soon
discovers that his renewed pride and self-respect is to be short-lived
when it becomes clear that Cathy Cake actually loathes him and was only
using him in order to fulfill her porn movie fantasy. The ploy works to a
degree- her attention to Boy Wonder reawakens his sexual prowess but
when she learns the camera wasn't rolling, she cruelly tells him that
she only used him for selfish purposes. With this, Big Mac and Rex
return from their horrendous errand and catch Boy Wonder in bed with
Cathy Cake. The situation becomes dangerous with Big Mac threatening to
kill Boy Wonder and things only deteriorate from there.
Richard Dreyfuss was said to have had a personal
obsession with this film. He was very involved in all aspects of its
production and remained defensive about the movie after its harsh
reception from critics. The movie's complete rejection by reviewers and
the public might have hurt his career but Dreyfuss already had "American
Graffiti" and "Jaws" under his belt. Soon he would also star in another
blockbuster, "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" followed by his
Oscar-winning performance in "The Goodbye Girl". The fact that so few
people ever saw "Interiors" actually worked to his advantage. However,
whatever motivated him to become involved in this bizarre project
remains a mystery. It's an ugly tale about ugly people doing ugly things
to each other. If there is a message here, I didn't receive it. There
isn't a single character you can identify with or sympathize with. They
are all self-obsessed cynics with no redeeming traits. That leaves us
with whatever values the performances afford us and it's a mixed bag.
Dreyfuss is miscast. He was twenty nine years-old when he made the film
and, despite his sordid appearance which ages him considerably, he is
still far too young to portray a once-great movie director who has
fallen on hard times. John Byrum's direction of Dreyfuss is unsteady. At
times he encourages him to underplay scenes while at other times he has
Dreyfuss chew the scenery mercilessly. Similarly, Stephen Davies plays
the brain-dead hunk Rex with flamboyantly gay characteristics one minute
then suddenly transforms into a heterosexual stud the next. Bob Hoskins
is squarely in what would become his trademark tough-guy gangster mode but gives a
solid performance. The best acting comes from the two female leads, with
Veronica Cartwright especially good as the ill-fated Harlene. Jessica
Harper also does well in her thankless role. Both women seem at ease in
doffing their clothes and playing much of their scenes in a provocative
state. Cartwright even goes full frontal for the violent sex scene with
Rex while Harper spends almost the entire last act of the film being
photographed topless. Curiously, the willingness to appear nude onscreen
was considered the epitome of female emancipation in films during the
1970s but the practice has largely become frowned upon in more recent
years. In fact the days are long gone when virtually every major actress
had to appear naked on screen. Today, female emancipation is the
ability to play erotic scenes on screen without having to be completely
compromised.
If John Byrum's
debut as a director is problematic, so, too, is his script. There is a
lot of name-dropping about the great figures in the movie industry who once socialized with the Boy Wonder but it all seems pretentious and
unconvincing right down to the constant attempts by Boy Wonder to avoid
meeting the unseen Clark Gable. In fact, aside from some fleeting
references the "Flapper Look" styles worn by the women, the film could
have been set in the 1970s. Byrum has the characters indulge in
vernacular that is far too contemporary for the 1930s. The only wit
that is apparent concerns Big Mac's plans to build roadside restaurants
that would all look the same and serve identical fast food. ("Big Mac"-
get it?) Beyond that, there are few attempts at humor and most of those
pertain to unspeakably cruel behavior and mutual humiliation. There
seems to be no purpose for the film's existence beyond the desire of the
participants to be in a porn movie. Given their status in the industry
that was obviously not going to happen so they banded together for a
quasi-porn movie and shrouded it in the protective layer of
intellectualism. This gave them all the cover of being artistes and
Richard Dreyfuss the opportunity to nibble on Jessica Harper's nipples
while pretending there was some greater purpose to it all. In reality
the film's most cringe-inducing scene has Dreyfuss and Harper having an
extended conversation about her private parts, which are referred to
repeatedly (almost to an absurd degree) in gutter language as those the
actors were pre-teenagers using naughty words for the first time.
There are said to be people who consider "Inserts" to be an underrated gem. But for this
writer, it represents an interesting but woefully misguided experiment
by some very talented people who should have known better.
It’s best to start this review by noting that Kino’s Blu
ray release of Claude Chabrol’s Bluebeard
is not a retelling of the centuries old French folk tale.The first published appearance of the grim fairy
tale was penned by Charles Perrault in 1697, but the oral folk tale actually dates
ages older. The Bluebeard of fable is a wealthy nobleman who has savagely
murdered and hidden the bodies of his six previous wives in a subterranean
chamber beneath his castle. But just as George Cukor’s Gaslight (1944) would introduce the psychological manipulation of “gas
lighting” into our modern vernacular, Webster’s defines a “bluebeard” as a “man
who first marries and then murders one wife after another.”Which is not exactly the case in Chabrol’s film of 1963.Though this
bluebeard’s wife is involved in the imbroglio, she is not targeted by her
murdering husband.But otherwise the description
is close enough.
In fact, the French title of this French-language
production - based on a gruesome but series of true crimes - was not Bluebeard but simply Landru.The titular character referenced is Henri Désiré Landru (1869-1922), a
bald and thick-bearded Parisian dealer of antique furniture.The problem with Landru is that he’s chosen
to supplement his income by murdering a succession of wealthy dowagers,
spinsters and widows in the years of French involvement in World War I.Collecting the names of moneyed lonely hearts
from personal ads sent privately to a postal box, Landru’s modus operandi was
to charm and romance his intended victims, offering all a respite from Paris at
his countryside Villa rental near Gambais.
Once separated from their bank accounts and antiquities,
Landru coldly murdered the women, disposing of their bodies – and all evidence
of his crime - in a coal-fired kitchen stove.Landru was found out and arrested in the spring of 1919, charged with
the murder of eleven women – though authorities believed he was likely involved
in many other unsolved disappearances.The macabre and sensational circumstances surrounding the Landru case
brought with it attendant international press coverage and a circus atmosphere
to the courtroom proceedings.Landru was
ultimately found guilty of his crimes, despite the absence of bodies.He was executed by guillotine in the early
winter of 1922.
Such notoriety would bring Landru lasting infamy as one
of the modern world’s most legendary serial killers.Both the fairy tale of Bluebeard and the
real-life terror wrought by Landru would figure into a number of film and television
productions.Sinister waxen images of
Landru’s bluebeard would be cinematically present in practically every wax
museum’s rogue gallery of horror:House of Wax (1953), the 1963 Twilight Zone episode “The New Exhibit,”
and Terror in the Wax Museum (1973)
to name only a few.Charlie Chaplin, of
all people, would even revisit the Landru affair in his thinly-veiled dark
comedy Monsieur Verdoux (1947).
So it was only proper that a French director and French writer
should assume ownership of the legend of Landru in this French-Italian
co-production.In late February of 1962,
Parisian cinema correspondents reported that Italian film producer Carlo Ponti
and Frenchman Georges De Beauregard, the latter president of Rome-Paris Films
and a champion of France’s “New Wave” cinema, were planning an Eastman color production
of Landru.The film was to be directed by Claude Chabrol
– already feted for such films as Le Beau
Serge (1958), The Cousins (1959)
and Les Bonnes Femmes (1960). The screenplay for Landru was to written by the popular French novelist Francoise
Sagan.Though this was to be Sagan’s
first effort at screenwriting, four of her novels had already been adapted for
the screen by French film studios.Earliest expectations were that Sagan’s script was to be one serious in
tone and unlike Charlie Chaplin’s comic-take of the serial killer’s spree.
Then, one month later, it was reported that Chabrol and
Sagan were in fact both crafting
elements of the screenplay, oddly semi-independent of one another:Chabrol was developing the film’s male
characters, Sagan charged to concentrate on the murderer’s female victims.Reports also noted that Chabrol himself might
play the role of Henri Désiré Landru should a suitable actor for the primary role
not be found.A more than suitable actor
was found in the person of Charles
Denner, an actor mostly unfamiliar-to-the-public at large.It’s Denner who really carries the film with a
masterful, emotionally casual performance.
In late March, Rome-Paris announced that a worldwide
distribution deal was in the works with United Artists, the studio having
agreed to “put up most of the coin” of production.Following their work together on Landru, Chabrol was promising to tackle
a film version of Sagan’s 1960 play Château en Suède. (That film would actually
be lensed and released in 1964 as a television production sans Chabrol’s
involvement).In any event, by
mid-summer of 1962, the deal with United Artists seems to have fallen
through.It was announced that Joseph E.
Levine’s Embassy Pictures had secured distribution rights; the deal was reportedly
struck when Levine was made privy to the preview rushes of the still unfinished
film.Lux Films was to handle domestic
distribution in France.With financing
and casting and a script in place, principal photography on Landru would wrap in September of 1962.
The film would enjoy – fittingly -a premiere in the city
of Paris in February of 1963. Though somewhat charmed by the film, a Variety critic attending a 5 February
screening floated the possibility that the production may not enjoy wide appeal
being an “unusual offbeater” and an “spirited if uneven pic.” There was also an
acknowledgment that Sagan’s script was curiously both “deft” and “repetitive” in its construction.These were fair criticisms, but by April’s
end, Landru had already drawn 306,767
paid admissions in France – not a bad box office total for an edgy filmmaker of
the “New Wave” school.
The film would be given a domestic publicity boost courtesy
of Mme. Fernande Segret.Segret, now age
seventy and a mistress of the real-life Landru, attempted to “enjoin” the
film’s release, concerned that the film sullied her reputation.Taking her case before the Tribunal of the
Seine, the French court dismissed Segret’s complaint, citing her relationship -
as a twenty-four-year-old - with the murderous Landru was already a “matter of
historical record” of which Sagan’s screenplay took no particular
liberties.Segret appealed, but as late
as 1967, her continuing attempt to bring suit against the filmmakers was again
dismissed.
With Chabrol’s Landru
racking up decent reviews and box office returns in France, an opportunistic distributor
chose this moment to reissue the director’s previously moribund effort Ophelia, an “updating of the Shakespeare
opus.” In the meantime, a U.S. premiere of the French-language, English
subtitled Landru was set for April 9,
1963, at Manhattan’s arthouse Cinema I/Cinema II Studio on Broadway near
Lincoln Center.It was announced that Francoise
Sagan would be in attendance.
Following that U.S. debut Box Office was impressed, acknowledging Landru held “several exploitative angles to attract art house
regulars” as well as devotees of “the bizarre and macabre.”But not every critic was as enamored with the
film’s promise.The New York Times suggested that Chabrol’s employ of genuine transcript
excerpts from the Landru trial were “more entertaining than those Mlle. Sagan
found for him.”The famously venomous stage
and screen critic John Simon, wrote witheringly that Sagan’s attempt to
“compete with Chaplin’s Monsieur Verdoux
takes a good deal of arrogance, but in that area both Chabrol and Sagan are
amply endowed.”
In an interview with New York City’s Film Journal, Chabrol confessed that many of his films examined
matters of criminality, morality, and the often misused scales of justice, from
different angles.“In Landru the problem was to be faithful to
the legend and to be funny with it.”Which was an odd angle to tell the story of a serial murderer whose
crimes were heinous.
The French actress Michele Morgan, who played Landru’s
victim Célestine Buisson, advised prior to the film’s release that
Chabrol’s picture was to be “ironic and comic, with each victim ending as a
puff of smoke from the chimney.”Chabrol
borrowed this smoke billowing visual image from Chaplin’s Monsieur Verdoux, but unfortunately uses this device to the point
of near-ridiculous repetition.Despite
this being a film being centered on one of the 20th century’s most
notorious figures there’s virtually no on-screen violence – only the suggestion
of such.
It was a curious decision.Not allowing audiences to actually see Landru
committing his terrible crimes, Chabrol allows the character as written to
retain a semblance of evasive humor and an anti-hero aura.Perhaps more tiresome than Chabrol’s multiple
cuts to the numerous chimney immolations are the appending comic bits where
Landru’s neighbors wilt from the odors of flesh incineration.The only images tying Landru to the brutal
murders are brief passing shots of the Villa’s fiery stove, coal bins and a
butcher block table with attached meat grinder.
Though a great fan of American films and the work of
Alfred Hitchcock – even co-authoring (with Erich Rohmer) an early book-length
study Hitchcock (Editions
Universitaires, Paris, 1957) – Chabrol’s filmography and interests were more
varied than that of his hero.It was
also, perhaps, the reason Chabrol’s mystery thrillers are less suspenseful in their
construction. Hitchcock once famously
wrote, “The mass [film] audience has had no education in technique of cinema,
as they frequently have in art and music, from their school days.They think only of story.”
Chabrol approach to film is different.It would be unfair to suggest that Chabrol
was a visual artist first, a storyteller second.But it’s clear that Chabrol’s work differs
from that of Hitchcock, the latter choosing to work with diligence from prepared
story boards and fully formed scripts.Chabrol’s film seems more freewheeling in construction, less plotted.I suppose Landru
might have been partly influenced by the mixing of black comedy with the macabre
as seen in Hitchcock’s The Trouble with
Harry (1955).
For my taste, the Chabrol film goes on too long – the
running time lasts a single tick under two hours but seems much longer.Choosing to lens the tale of Landru as a
darkly sardonic, serio-comic drama was not new – Chaplin already had fun tweaking
the public’s morbid interest in the case – but too often the murders and
subsequent courtroom drama seem to unspool in real time.With the romancing, the murders, the winking
comedy, the inter-cutting of grim black and white WWI newsreel footage, the
courtroom proceedings… the layering all becomes too much.
Similarly to Chaplin, Chabrol tries to weave an
undercurrent of politically-motivated shenanigans behind the prurient
international interest of Landru’s celebrity notoriety. Though involved in negotiating the Treaty of
Versailles - which formally brought the WW I to its end - French Prime Minister
George Clemenceau was despairing of its outcome – as were the French public who
would vote him out of office in 1920.As
imagined by self-described communist Chabrol, Clemenceau’s ploy was an attempt
to redirect the discontent of the French public by shepherding the press to
devote their efforts on the concurrent - and far more titillating - murder
trial of Henri Désiré Landru.He may
very well have been right about that.
This Kino Lorber Studio Classic edition of Bluebeard offers a stunning and color
saturated 4K restoration from the original camera negative.The film is presented in an aspect ratio of
1.66:1 in 1920x1080p and DTS audio.The release
comes with its original French language soundtrack and removable English
sub-titles. There is an audio commentary
courtesy of film historian Kat Ellinger, the editor of Diabolique magazine and self-described Instagram “loudmouthed
hysterical feminist.”
Ellinger provides an excellent commentary throughout,
describing Landru as the “strangest
and most frustrating” films of Chabrol’s 1960s oeuvre.She also notes the politically left director
also staged Landru as a cynical
commentary of the mores of the petite
bourgeoisie class – an element that’s insufferably
present throughout.
There are no alternate scenes included on this set.But while there is only the briefest flash of
topless nudity present in his finished cut, Chabrol later intimated that
producer Ponti insisted he also photograph a number of “undressed” scenes, presumably
for European distribution.If indeed
there is a continental version of Landru
floating about, I have not seen it.The
set also includes five trailers, including Chabrol’s The Champagne Murders, as well as such French productions as Le Doulos, Alphaville, Diabolically Yours and
Max and the Junkman.
The scenario of Mad
Love was adapted from Maurice Renard’s Grand
Guignol thriller of 1920Les Mains d'Orlac (The Hands of Orlac).Renard (born 1875) was an author of
science-fiction and fantasy tales.Not
surprisingly, he was an ardent admirer of literary forebears Edgar Allan Poe
and H.G. Wells.Both of these authors –
similarly to Renard – contributed to the pulp publications of their day.Les Mains d'Orlac was
Renard’s third pulp to be published. It was also his most famous.
Renard’s novel tells the story of a world-famous pianist,
Stephen Orlac, whose hands are tragically severed in a train wreck outside
Paris.A surgeon, Dr. Gogol, grafts a
new set of hands on the gifted Orlac, having not advised the pianist his “new” hands
once belonged to a notorious – and recently guillotined - murderer.Orlac is, not unreasonably, frightened when
he discovers the grafts are seemingly directing him to do evil things, the
bidding of the devil.
Upon Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer’s announcement that esteemed director
and cinematographer Karl Freund was planning on shooting the first sound
version of The Hands of Orlac – a
silent featuring Conrad Veidt had already seen light as early as 1924 – the
studio’s publicity department went into full press.They excitingly described Renard’s yarn, as “the
weirdest and most novel of all thriller mystery stories.”
Freund very much wanted the Hungarian actor Peter Lorre
to play Doctor Gogol, the mad surgeon.Lorre had already established a reputation as an impressive figure in
European – and especially German – cinema.But following his international success as the psychotic child murderer
of Fritz Lang’s grim M (1931) and in Alfred
Hitchcock’s production of The Man Who
Knew Too Much (1934), executives at Columbia were eager to put the exotic Lorre
under contract for his first U.S. film assignment.
They were, perhaps, too
eager to bring him to Hollywood.Columbia had not yet found a project for him – and the actor’s command
of the English language was still in a nascent stage.Though offered a role in one of the studio’s adventure
dramas featuring action-star Jack Holt, Lorre demurred: he wasn’t interested in
such low-brow fare.He was pressing
Columbia to cast him in a more high-minded production, a film for the ages: an adaptation
of Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment.Lorre was also insistent that esteemed
director Josef von Sternberg should helm the prospective epic.
There was a problem with this demand. Columbia’s co-founder and president, Harry
Cohn, wasn’t interested in such a project – nor was von Sternberg for that
matter.This resulted in Lorre sitting
in a state of contractual limbo of some “eight months,” at least by the actor’s
recollection.So it came as a relief
when MGM approached Cohn and Columbia asking for an inter-studio loan of Lorre
for Mad Love.Though not particularly a fan of horror
movies - then a recent box office rage thanks to Universal’s Frankenstein and Dracula pictures – the actor agreed to the one-off trade.
There was one condition of acceptance: that Columbia put Crime and Punishment on their production
schedule of 1935.Cohn agreed, without
enthusiasm, to greenlight the project.Though a New York Times interview
suggested Lorre’s subsequent relationship with Von Sternberg was a “happy one,”
the sentiment may not have been reciprocal.Though Von Sternberg would express admiration that Lorre was the only
actor on set who had actually read Crime
and Punishment, he felt the actor was completely miscast, “unsuitable” for
the role he was awarded.
In any event, on April 23, 1935, Variety reported Metro having secured Lorre’s loan from Columbia.Things moved quickly following that
announcement.By May 1st, MGM
had signed Ted Healy, Billy Gilbert and May Beatty to the cast.Screenwriter John L. Balderston was tapped to
freshen up the adaptive scenario of Guy Endore and the actual script of P.J.
Wolfson.Another source would report
that actress Francis Drake, on loan from Paramount, was also to be brought
aboard, as Yvonne, a Grand Guignol performer
in Paris and the primary target of Gogol’s romantic overtures and obsessions.
The final principal casting announcement was reported on
May 2 when Colin Clive – Dr. Henry Frankenstein himself - was conscripted to
play Yvonne’s husband, the amputee Stephen Orlac.With their star-studded cast in place, on May
3rd, Greg Toland was announced as a photographer on the project.Toland would work alongside both Chester Lyons
and director Freund.Freund was, of
course, the acclaimed cinematographer of such classics as Fritz Lang’s Metropolis (1927) and Tod Browning’s Dracula (1931).
Freund was certainly taking the Mad Love project seriously.On
May 8, Variety reported he and Lorre
had visited California’s Lutheran Hospital, sitting quietly through several surgeries
“to get atmosphere” for the forthcoming production of Mad Love.A subsequent item
in the Los Angeles Times noted the
pair attended the gruesome surgeries as the invited guests of Dr. Albert and
Francis Alton.It was explained the
director and his star were to witness “the performing of several operations… in
order to study certain technical details of surgery for the picture.”
Though Lorre was pleased to be in front of cameras again,
he made it plain early on that he wasn’t a fan of horror pictures, steadfast in
his conviction that he would not be typecast as an actor of the genre.He needn’t have worried as a variety of interesting
work offers were coming his way.Just as
production on Mad Love was set to
roll, the actor was visited by the British producer Michael Balcon.Balcon had been spending a lot of time in
Hollywood looking to ingratiate himself with U.S. film executives.On May 6, 1935, Balcon announced he had managed
to sign Lorre and reigning boogeyman Boris Karloff for a pair of London-based projects
– both of which would come to fruition:Lorre
would act a second time for Hitchcock in Secret
Agent (1936), Karloff for Robert Stevenson’s The Man Who Changed His Mind (Gaumont-British Film Corporation,
1936).
With some of the film earnings and personal savings he
had accrued, it was reported that the savvy, self-starting Lorre had recently purchased
no fewer than three stage plays of European origin for development as possible
Hollywood films.The scripts, it was
noted, would be peddled to producers only “on the condition that he is spotted
in if and when made.”But first the
famously diminutive, pop-eyed actor, once described by Charlie Chaplin, as “the
world’s greatest living character actor,” had to get through the filming of the
Mad Love chiller.
Members of the Hollywood press were invited to visit the
set on May 8, the first day of shooting. Gossip wag George Lewis who, like
Lorre, was no fan of horror movies, arrived just as poor Francis Drake was
trussed to a wheel and branded with a hot iron at a grim Grand Guignol staging at Paris’s Théâtre
des Horreurs.Lewis made
note that Freund appeared “quite cheerful” as the macabre scenario played out
before him.Freund trumpeted his picture
was to be “the most colossal horror yet presented to the civilized world.”But following the preview screening of Mad Love on July 1, 1935, critic Lewis remained
nonplussed, sniffing the film only “capable of scaring to death at least a few
timid people.”
A more savvy reporter from the Oakland Tribune, also in attendance at the first-day shoot,saw MGM’s renewed interest in horror
pictures as the studio’s attempt to give Universal “a little competition in the
matter of fantastic films and regain, if possible, the position it held when
Lon Chaney was alive and Tod Browning in his prime.”Both Universal and Paramount had done very
well with their recent chillers, and MGM sensibly wanted a little taste.
Nothing if not a method actor, Lorre consented to shave
his head for the role of Dr. Gogol.Such
a dramatic shorn required the actor to visit the studio barbershop every
morning prior to shooting.Resting
between takes on set, Lorre needed to apply a wet chamois cloth on his eggshell
skull to protect him from the burn of the hot klieg lights hanging
overhead.
The consummate cinematographer, Freund expertly executed
an eerie monochrome contrasting of “hard lights and shadows” to create a moody
and mysterious ambience - one befitting Gogol’s personal gallery of
horrors.Continuing to do his part, the
roly-poly Lorre, thinking himself too heavy-set to play the mad surgeon
convincingly, went on a crash diet.On
alternate days, the actor would eat only fruit, then vegetables, then dried
meat, then boiled potatoes.He reportedly
dropped a total of nine pounds in four days’ time.
One journalist would go on to describe Lorre as “the
finest scarer of woman-and-children and even grown up men since Lon
Chaney.”Which was high praise
indeed.Chaney’s reputation in and around
Hollywood was as exalted as ever despite his having passed on August 26, 1930,
age 47.Though Lorre graciously
acknowledged the compliment, he nevertheless was of the opinion that grotesque
make-up appliances often disguised “an excuse for an ability to act… An actor
should find his expressions in his naked face.”The one exception to that rule, Lorre then sensibly corrected, was the
great Chaney since “He was an artist.”As a recent transplant to Tinseltown it was best not to kick up dust at
the expense of one of Hollywood’s most mourned and respected figures.
Despite Lorre’s disdain of make-up appliances, there was
a lot of press in the lead-up to the production of Mad Love that the filmmakers planned on using a series of Grand Guignol style masks in their
upcoming production.“Intensive
experiment went into the perfection of the new masks,” noted the Los Angeles Times, suggesting such
ghoulish set decorations were “often suggested in fiction but never before
worked out on a practical basis.”Such
artful masks are scattered about and
used as macabre decoration for the Théâtre
des Horreurs sequences near the film’s beginning.Otherwise they play little role in the
storyline.
June 15 would mark the final day of shooting, the
Hollywood press again invited to attend.It was a less exciting day to be on set, the film crew mostly finishing
up on various insert shots, the journalists watching Lorre’s double, “Raspy” Rasputin,
menacing Drake’s distressed double.The
genuine Lorre was on set as well, pacing about in silence, occasionally
breaking a studious concentration to relax and joke with members of the crew
with whom he had become friendly.
Following an industry preview of the film at Glendale’s
Alexander Theatre, Billboard was
certain Mad Love would score at the
box office, citing the “masterful performance” of Lorre in his U.S. film
debut.The critic did astutely rue, “the
significance of this grotesque film is likely to be obscured by its flimsy
title. It will take a change of title or heavy promotion to gain for this eerie
but well-done production the grosses it warrants.”This title change did, in fact, transpire.
In certain markets the title was changed to The Hands of Orlac in the hope of
increasing audience interest and box office revenue.With a production budget of just over
$217,000, domestic receipts of Mad Love
had totaled a disappointing $164,000.Some blamed the unrepresentative title of Mad Love for the film’s underwhelming performance.It
was believed that the audiences who routinely flocked to horror pictures passed
on Mad Love due to bad marketing.The title Mad
Love suggested the film was merely one-more dreary Hollywood romantic
drama.
London’s Picturegoer
thought the film a serviceable thriller, but little more.Acknowledging that Lorre’s performance
carried the production, the film otherwise “fails to grip to any great
extent.”Variety’s opinion was much the same.Suggesting Lorre’s role as the villainous Dr.
Gogol was an ideal one for the actor’s American film bow, “the results in
screen potency are disappointing.Being
a chiller, much will depend on exploitation.” The trade predicted Mad Love would “probably will do fair
biz on the whole.”
Subsequent reviews of Mad
Love were mostly positive, though some thought the grim subject matter too
sadistic and intense for the impressionable young and any patron with a weak
constitution.Lorre’s notices were uniformly
positive, one critic writing – likely to the actor’s chagrin – that he had managed
a spine-chilling performance both “menacing
and sinister.Karloff and Lugosi,
erstwhile nonpareil bogey-men of the movies, have a doughty rival.”Interestingly, Mad Love was released within weeks of Universal’s faux-Poe
thriller, The Raven featuring Messrs.
Karloff and Lugosi.Such release date synchronicity
might have hurt the box-office receipts of both films.There was, apparently, only so much sadism audiences
could sit through in the summer of 1935.
This Warner Bros. Archive Collectionregion-free issue of Mad Love is presented in 1080p High
Definition 16x9 with an aspect 1.37:1 and in DTS-HD Master mono audio. The transfer is excellent. As is often the case with these Warner
Archive Blu ray issues, there’s no abundance of special features offered
outside of the film’s trailer and a highly informative second-life commentary track courtesy of
Steve Haberman (screenwriter of Dracula:Dead and Loving It), ported over from the
six-film Hollywood Legends of Horror
Collection DVD box set of 2006.
Click here to order from the Cinema Retro Movie Store.
When this year's Oscar nominations were announced last month, there was a discussion of the choices on the popular A.M. chat show "Morning Joe". Veteran columnist Mike Barnicle seemed to sum up the feelings of the panelists when he griped that the choices for Best Picture had too many quirky films that most movie-goers would not have seen. This is a common complaint but those who make it are flat-out wrong. You see, the Oscar awards are not supposed to be obligated to reflect popular taste. They are not The People's Choice Awards. Rather, they are supposed to reflect the feelings of industry professionals in regard to who among their peers should be honored. However, the awards have largely been defined by the TV broadcast, which has grown to C.B. DeMille proportions over the decades. Thus, the Academy is partly to blame for the perception that populism should play a role in the nominations and who is declared a winner. The Academy also made a blatant attempt to reverse declining ratings some years ago by artificially inflating the number of Best Picture nominees from the traditional five to ten. There was no reason to do this other than to try to goose up audience interest by including films that would appeal to viewers but which would probably not stand much of a chance in terms of winning.
Last night's telecast seemed to revert back to the Academy's main mission: to honor films based on their artistic merits, not popularity. Thus, quirky was "in", as evidenced by the seven awards accorded to "Everything Everywhere All at Once", a film that people find hard to even describe. One friend of mine has seen it nine times while others have made repeated attempts to get through it only to throw in the towel before reaching the conclusion. The film has already grossed over $100 million and the Oscar haul will boost it into the stratosphere.
Here are some random observations about last night's telecast on ABC-TV.:
Overall, the show was one of the better ceremonies in recent years. No major flubs or time-wasting episodes. Host Jimmy Kimmel was very funny and delivered the bon mots in a low-key manner. He addressed the elephant in the room early in the broadcast, taking a swipe at Will Smith and last year's "Slap heard 'round the world". Kimmel quipped that anyone in the auditorium who provokes violence this year would be awarded the Best Actor Oscar and be allowed to give a 19-minute speech. Smith has been banned from the ceremonies for ten years but there had been consternation that his much-hyped 2022 release, "Emancipation", would make him a front runner for another Best Actor Oscar. What would the Academy do if a nominee was not allowed to attend the ceremony? The crisis was averted when "Emancipation" didn't live up to expectations and vanished from theaters quickly.
There was an abundance of old style high style. Men seem to have forsaken those dreadful "new, improved" tuxedo designs from some years ago and gone back to the traditional look, perhaps influenced by the fact that early films of Cary Grant and Sean Connery still epitomize what classic black tie look can do for any guy. For the women, plunging necklines and cleavage were the order of the day. Most of the gowns looked great with only a few coming close to being over-the-top. Helping in this regard was the fact that Cher was not present, although Academy president Janet Yang showcased a gown that looked like a costume for the next Marvel superhero.
The auditorium featured some wonderful production designs for the various segments orchestra was presented in a retro-chic manner.
Bending to industry outrage after the Academy had relegated some of last year's technical awards to an off-camera ceremony, all of the traditional categories were reinstated. Jimmy Kimmel warned that this would result in an extended running time for the broadcast, but who cares? This is the culmination of many talented people's careers and they should be afforded public recognition. The show did run over 3 1/2 hours but the pace was lively and there was thankfully very little of that awful "spontaneous" banter between presenters that causes viewers to groan every year.
There were some nice tributes to elder statesmen of the industry including the seemingly immortal actor James Hong and fellow immortal John Williams, who was up for his latest Oscar for scoring "The Fabelmans". Kimmel quipped that Williams has been nominated over 50 times and won five Oscars, therefore making his percentage of wins very unimpressive. Williams, looking fit and chipper at 91 years-old, appreciated the joke.
There were some truly touching acceptance speeches and some poignant pleas for a better world. Brandon Fraser was so moved by his Best Actor award for "The Whale" that he appeared to be on the verge of hyper-ventilating. In accepting his Best Supporting Actor Award, Ke Huy Quan reflected that in his youth, he had spent a year in a refugee camp and was now representing the America Dream. Equally moving was Michele Yeoh's acceptance speech for Best Actress. It was great to see older actresses honored, reinforced by Jamie Lee Curtis's Best Supporting Actress win. Maybe we're reaching a time when fine actresses aren't relegated to grandmotherly roles by the time they hit 40.
There was a dearth of political references and jokes, which was rather shocking and refreshing, though Kimmel did get off a funny jibe about Tucker Carlson qualifying for Best Editor. He also made a joke at the expense of America's own Baron Munchhausen by taking a swipe at embattled Congressman George Santos. However, it's not likely to ruffle any feathers because Santos has brought about true bi-partisanship: his colleagues in both parties want him out of congress ASAP.
The Best Song nominees were all very well presented and performed and the category represented one of the few upsets of the night with the viral sensation "Naatu Naatu" winning from the Indian film "RRR". The song's accompanying on-stage group dance presentation was sensational.
The year's biggest financial blockbusters, "Top Gun: Maverick" and "Avatar: The Way of Water" were relegated to receiving technical awards. Both Tom Cruise and James Cameron were absent from the ceremony, causing Jimmy Kimmel to joke that the men responsible for so many people returning to movie theaters could not be persuaded to be at this theater.
There were some misfires in terms of content. To buy time while sets were changed on stage, someone thought it would be funny to have Kimmel approach celebrities in the audience and read them questions that were allegedly sent in by viewers. The stars looked bewildered and offended by the intrusion and you could almost see the flop sweat breaking out on Kimmel's forehead before the misguided scenario was saved by the clock. Memo to Oscar: never send the host into the audience. It never ends well for anyone. There was also a ill-fated attempt to capitalize on the latest cult flick "Cocaine Bear" that barely registered on the laugh meter.
Video tribute segments include the usual memorial to prominent people in the industry who we lost in the last year. This year's segment was introduced by a bald, bearded John Travolta who was brought to tears by the inclusion of his dear friend and co-star Olivia Newton-John. As for the presentation, it's always beautifully presented but also controversial because it excludes any number of people who should arguably have been acknowledged. The Academy should just buy the rights to Turner Classic Movies' annual tribute to lost artists, which is far more inclusive, since the Oscars producers can't seem to get this important ritual right. Similarly, the justified video tribute to the 100th anniversary of Warner Brothers was compromised by the fact that classic movies from other studios were included. Why? Because over the years, Warners bought the rights to them- but that doesn't make them WB productions and they should not have been included. Doesn't the studio have enough bragging rights to their own films without trying to take credit for MGM's "North by Northwest"?
James Bond fans could relish the unique sight of one of the franchise's actresses (Michelle Yeoh) receiving a Best Actress Oscar from a previous Best Actress recipient who also was a Bond leading lady (Halle Berry) while another nominee for Best Actress who was a Bond star, Ana de Armas watched from the audience.
The Best Picture is usually announced by a mega star and this year was no exception, with Harrison Ford doing the honors. If you watched the closing credits, you could see him reunited with Ke Huy Quan, who had appeared with him as a child star in "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom".
In all, one of the better Oscar presentations of recent years, but that's just my humble opinion.
Even
diehard fans of filmmaker David Lynch were puzzled by his 2006 epic surrealist
horror picture, INLAND EMPIRE. There are legions of fans and critics who
love the movie, but there are likely more who find it impenetrable, way too
long, self-indulgent, pretentious, and, as one critic called it, a film that
might have been made by a “former genius who now has Alzheimer’s.”
INLAND
EMPIRE is
tough viewing. It deals with what could be called “multi-verses” before that
term was trendy. Some consider it to be the third film in a loosely
interconnected trilogy of movies Lynch made about “psychogenic fugues,” or dissociative
disorders. Lost Highway (1997) and Mulholland Drive (2001) both
deal with similar themes in which protagonists become “somebody else” during
the course of the stories.
One
aspect of the film that everyone agrees on is the stellar, virtuoso performance
by Laura Dern. Lynch famously sat on Hollywood Boulevard with a live cow in an attempt
to campaign for Dern’s performance to be considered for an Academy Award (she
wasn’t nominated). Ironically, even Dern has admitted she has no clue what is
going on in INLAND EMPIRE.
The
best this reviewer can make of the story is that Dern plays Hollywood actress
Nikki Grace, who is married to a Polish man, Piotrek (Peter J. Lucas), who has
something to hide. Nikki has just been cast in a movie called On High in
Blue Tomorrows, to be directed by the great Kingsley Stewart (Jeremy Irons)
and co-starring heartthrob Devon Berk (Justin Theroux). We learn that the movie
is based on an unfinished German movie from decades ago that was allegedly
“cursed” because the lead actors were murdered. Nikki, who has begun an affair
with Devon, sets out to investigate this history and literally falls through a
series of rabbit holes (there are even sequences featuring the anthropomorphic rabbits
from Lynch’s online shorts series, “Rabbits”) and becomes Sue Blue, who may or
may not be a completely different character from Nikki or perhaps a separate
personality. And then there’s the “Lost Girl” (Karolina Gruszka), a
human-trafficked prostitute in Poland in another decade (the 1930s?) whose
actions mirror what’s going on in Sue’s world.
Is
it a story of reincarnation? Of death and what might be the afterlife? Or maybe
there isn’t a story at all that can be followed linearly. Perhaps Lynch
intended INLAND EMPIRE to be an experience of emotions, images, and
surrealism in the vein of classic experimental filmmakers such as Stan
Brakhage, Germaine Dulac, Man Ray, and the Luis Buñuel
& Salvador Dalí collaborations. Maybe the movie is the
attempt to film in dream logic—which often makes no sense but can be vividly visceral.
At
any rate, INLAND EMPIRE is not for a mainstream audience. This is Lynch
at his most Lynchian. Be forewarned. Interestingly, it is the last theatrical
feature the filmmaker has made to date.
The
Criterion Collection has issued a new HD digital master on Blu-ray, made from
the 4K restoration supervised by Lynch, with both a 5.1 surround DTS-HD Master
Audio and uncompressed stereo soundtrack (also remastered by Lynch and original
recording mixers Dean Hurley and Ron Eng). As is usually the case with Lynch’s
films, the sound is always impressive, and INLAND EMPIRE doesn’t disappoint
in that regard.
The
package contains two disks—one with the feature film (it’s 180 minutes in
length), and the other with hours of supplements. Some of the supplements are
ported over from the original 2007 Rhino-Studio Canal DVD release: “More Things
That Happened” (75 minutes of extra scenes); LYNCH (a 2007 nearly-90-minute
behind-the-scenes documentary made by blackANDwhite); and “Ballerina,” a 2007
short film by Lynch. New to the Criterion release is an excellent half-hour
conversation between Laura Dern and actor Kyle MacLachlan, who both discuss
their respective work with Lynch and specifically Dern’s role in INLAND
EMPIRE; LYNCH2, a shorter documentary made by blackANDwhite; an
audio excerpt read by Lynch from his autobiography, Room to Dream
(co-written with Kristine McKenna); and the theatrical trailer. The booklet
contains an interview excerpt from Richard A. Barney’s book David Lynch:
Interviews.
Love
it or hate it, INLAND EMPIRE is without question one of the most
challenging and provocative pieces of cinema released since the New Millennium.
Click here to pre-order from Amazon. (The Blu-ray will be released on March 21.)
Attack
of the 50ft. Woman is by no measure the finest science-fiction
film to emerge from 1950’s Hollywood.It
may, however, be one of the most iconic.I suspect the film’s notoriety is partly due to Reynold Brown’s eye-catching
one-sheet poster design:a grimacing,
gargantuan deep-cleavaged Allison Hayes hovering over a city highway picking
off random automobiles.That nothing
like this actually happens in the
movie is mostly forgivable.If we were
to judge any film by its true delivery-of-on-screen mayhem against the false promises
of its imaginative publicity campaign, a lot of press agents would be serving
time.
Having said that, Brown’s artwork is an inseparable
component of the film’s status among fans of Silver Age sci-fi.The poster design has been both parodied and mimicked,
plastered on coffee mugs, jewelry, wristwatches, puzzles, t-shirts, model kits,
fridge magnets and book covers.Reynold’s
empowering image has even seen adoption as a feminist-rallying call-to-arms.Which is a pretty amazing feat for a film
dashed off in little more than a week’s time, with less than stellar optical
effects and at a budget of some $88,000.
Attack
of the 50ft. Woman was directed by Nathan Juran who is credited
on this particular film - for no reason I could source or conjure - as “Nathan
Hertz.”It’s not as if Juran was a fallen
helmsman of high-budget studio “prestige” pictures.He wasn’t a director reflexively protective
of a former glory, someone defensive that his once glittering career had
somehow descended into directing 50s sci-fi fodder.Juran’s first directorial assignment was, in
fact, for Universal’s The Black Castle
(1953) a mostly glossed-over gothic B-film featuring Richard Greene and Boris
Karloff.From 1953 on, Juran
subsequently bounced between directing low-budget feature films and studiously working
on early television.
But by 1957 Juran had become semi-typecast as a
successful auteur of low-budget sci-fi films, his streak beginning with 1957’s The Deadly Mantis.Over the course of the next several years
(1957-1964), Juran directed a number of features and television episodes, many
of which could be categorized as falling under the umbrella of sci-fi and
fantasy.These would include such offerings
as 20 Million Miles to Earth (1957), The Brain from Planet Arous (1957) and,
perhaps most famously, The 7th Voyage of
Sinbad (1958).
The screenwriter of Attack
of the 50ft. Woman was Mark Hanna. Hanna had already displayed a modicum of
insight in his crafting of bigger-than-life-size monster movies.The writer had collaborated the previous year
with producer/director Bert I. Gordon on A.I.P.’s The Amazing Colossal Man. There’s
little arguing that Allied Artist’s decision to back Attack of the 50ft. Woman was simply an opportunity to coat-tail
Gordon’s recent string of successful “giant monster” pics.There had been plenty of them, some having
already seen issue, others in the can being rush-readied for release:King
Dinosaur (1955), Beginning of the End
(1957), The Cyclops (1957), The Amazing Colossal Man (1957), Attack of the Puppet People (1958), War of the Colossal Beast (1958) and The Spider (1958).
Jacques R. Marquette and Bernard Woolner’s production of Attack of the 50 ft. Woman would start on
Wednesday, January 8, 1958, under the working title of The Astounding Giant Woman.It wasn’t a great title, but Allied Artist’s had been bandied a pair of
alternates, both of which were also subsequently rejected: The Mammoth Female Monster and The
Colossal Female Monster.The film
was still being touted in the trades as The
Astounding Giant Woman through March of 1958.In April of 1958 the film was finally and
permanently re-titled Attack of the 50ft.
Woman.
Actress Yvette Vickers, who plays sultry sex-kitten Honey
Parker in the film, recalls the entire picture was shot in eight days, with no
one under the illusion they were making cinematic history. Allied Artists were
interested in quick returns on their investments.By January’s end of 1958, no fewer than ten
of their projects were reported as being “in various stages of editing,”
including Attack of the 50ft. Woman
and Howard W. Koch’s Frankenstein 1970.It was also during the last week of January
that Ronald Stein was brought onboard to compose the film’s engaging and jazzy soundtrack.
One intriguing aspect of Attack of the 50ft. Woman is that the film’s sci-fi elements would often
play second fiddle to the script’s domestic drama.Allison Hays plays Nancy Archer, a wealthy
but alcoholic socialite whose marriage is in shambles.The cruel ways of her unfaithful and
conniving husband, Harry (William Hudson) has already driven her to a
sanatorium.While his wife is away
(unsuccessfully) convalescing from her binge-drinking and mental frailties,
Harry has taken up with the “red-headed wench” Honey Parker (Vickers).Harry and Honey spend an inordinate amount of
time at Tony’s Bar and Grill, drinking, listening to jazz, dancing, and
plotting a comfortable future together - a future to be financed by Nancy’ loss
of stewardship of the family fortune due to her faltering mental health
capacities.
This scenario on paper, of course, appears very film-noir
in construction.But Hanna’s script
upends the film’s love triangle aspect almost from the very beginning.There have been worldwide news broadcasts describing
a “strange red fireball in the sky” hurtling towards earth.Driving back on Route 66 to her tony home
upon release from the sanatorium, Nancy unluckily encounters an alien craft somewhere
in a remote section of the Californian desert. No saucer-shaped spacecraft, this particular vehicle
arrives as a 30-foot high sphere resembling a weather balloon.As if suffering from “mental exhaustion and
alcoholism” was not enough, Nancy now finds herself in the clutches of giant
hand with hairy knuckles.
Unfortunately, this alien contact has left Nancy with
blue-green traces of radiation on her throat which brings about the onset of
“giantism.”Though doctors are summoned
to try to figure out why the poor and delirious Nancy is increasing in size at
an alarming rate, husband Harry and mistress Honey care not one whit, still duplicitously
scheming at Tony’s bar and grill.But
the two of them – as well as the local sheriff and police department – will soon
find themselves no match for a lady scorned: a wrathful woman who now stands 5o
ft. tall, is wrapped in an over-sized white bed sheet and appears angry as
Hell.
The earliest press screenings for Attack of the 50ft. Woman were held in Los Angeles on May 8, 1958.The film was screened with Roger Corman’s War of the Satellites, a second sci-fi feature
that was to be paired with Woman on national
release.In the view of the Variety critic, both genre offerings
were “on weak side.” The trade cited Mark
Hanna’s “corny dialogue” and Hertz’s “routine” direction on Woman as the film’s primary deficiencies,
dismissing the film as “a minor offering for the scifi trade where demands
aren’t too great.”
Well, maybe I’ve simply just sat through too many Silver
Age sci-fi films to be objective, but I didn’t find Hanna’s script necessarily
corny – but I did find the screenplay absent of likable characters worth caring
about. Although I am a fan of Attack of the 50ft. Woman, I can
understand the sulking review given the film upon release by critic Margaret
Harford of the Los Angeles Mirror: “Attack of the 50ft. Woman has so few
idealists on hand that the survival rate is lamentably low.”She goes on to describe the three romantic-triangle
leads as “unregenerative types” possessing souls not worthy of salvation.The unrelenting unwholesomeness of the aforementioned
trio ultimately inspires, “a wholesale blood bath that amounts to an extra
dividend for scare-traders on the horror market.”
While Attack of the
50ft. Woman would not be the last sci-fi/horror flick in which Hayes would
be cast, the actress happily moved over to dramatic work on television.She was enjoying the variety of roles such
new castings offered. It wasn’t surprising.Shortly following the release of Attack
of the 50ft. Woman, one journalist met with Hayes for a brief
interview.The gossip writer thought
Hayes “a fugitive from ‘Monster’ pictures,” a talented actress looking to take
an extended break from such desultory features. The actress had, in fact, racked up a score of
horror credits in recent years, appearing in a quartet of exploitation pictures
in 1957 alone: The Undead, The Zombies of Mora Tau, The Unearthly, and The Disembodied.In 1958
this former 50 ft. giant was looking for roles more befitting a woman of her
stature.
Shortly following her work on Woman, the saucy Yvette Vickers was cast in the feature The Saga of Hemp Brown and an episode of
TV’s Dragnet.In the years 1958-1961 most of Vickers’
casting was on various television dramas, though a few feature film roles were
mixed in as well.She would also, more
infamously, appear as a “bottoms up” “Playmate of the Month” centerfold in the
July 1959 issue of Playboy magazine,
the photo spread courtesy of Russ Meyer.Of course, I’m just noting the above for the historical record, not to suggest
anyone should rush off to eBay to source a back copy.But if you’re looking to add something new to
your collection…
This region-free Warner Bros. Archive Collection issue of
Attack of the 50ft. Woman is
presented in 1080p High Definition 16x9 with an aspect 1.85:1 and in DTS-HD
Master mono audio. As is often the case
with these Warner Bros. Archive Blu releases, there’s not an abundance of
special features offered outside of the film’s trailer and a commentary track.The latter item is particularly special, if
not unfamiliar to serious collectors.
The commentary track on this new Blu release has been
ported over from Warner’s DVD box set of 2007, Cult Camp Classics, Viol. 1: Sci-Fi Thrillers.On the bright side, the commentaries of film
historian Tom Weaver and actress Vickers are certainly worthy of preservation
on this second digital go round, the film’s first appearance in HD.Both Weaver, likely the finest author-commentator
of vintage Hollywood sci-fi and horror, and Vickers – present on set back in
1958 - offer wonderfully playful and often prescient insights and memories on
the making of the film.Vickers’s
contributions are now made all more special in 2023 as the actress/pin-up girl with
the great sense of humor has since passed.
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Though the Bert I. Gordon’s and William Castle’s of 1950s-1960s
Hollywood were successful in grinding out a string of their own low-budget suspense
films, it’s clear they both aspired for recognition as auteurs of
psychological-thrillers in the Hitchcock tradition.Producer/Director Bert I. Gordon would throw
his hat into that particular ring with the redoubtable Picture Mommy Dead.The
screenplay for Gordon’s picture was written by Robert Sherman, a television
writer with no feature film credits. This was to be Gordon’s second film for Joseph
Levine’s Embassy Pictures, his first being the outrageous exploitation/sci-fi
flick Village of the Giants (1965) (“Teen-agers
Zoom to Supersize and Terrorize a Town!”).
Casting for Picture
Mommy Dead began as early as November of 1965, the trades reporting Levine had
hopes of reuniting Gene Tierney and Dana Andrews (of Otto Preminger’s classic
noir Laura (1944) for Color Mommy Dead (the provisional title
of the film).Though Tierney appeared to
be interested – she had been working before the camera only intermittently in
the mid-60s – on January 12, Gordon announced her part was instead given to actress
Martha Hyer, since “the role developed more into a Martha Hyer type of beauty
than a Gene Tierney type beauty.”
If Dana Andrews was on Levine’s wish list to take on the
role of Edward Shelley in the film, the actor was either already working on
another project or simply not interested.The part would go to Don Ameche whose recent roles were also occasional
and on television.In a classic example
of Hollywood nepotism, actress Susan Gordon – Bert’s daughter – would beat out eighty
actresses auditioning for the role of the troubled Susan Shelley.“I solved the second femme lead,” the
producer explained, “by giving it to my 16-year-old daughter, Susan, but I’ve
got to find still another lady before we start shooting at Paramount on January
24.”
That “lady” still to be cast as the filthy-rich Jessica
Flagmore Shelley was the sultry screen-legend Hedy Lamarr.On January 18, a mere six days before that
character’s first scheduled shoot was to take place at Beverly Hills Doheny
Estate, it was announced the notoriously reclusive and eccentric Lamarr had
accepted the role.It was reported her acceptance
was mostly due to the coaxing of Marvin Paige, a talent agent and occasional
on-the-town paramour of the aging glamour queen.
But if the film’s casting appeared settled, events would soon
take a dramatic turn.In the interim of winning
this “comeback” gig Lamarr, the Garbo-like fifty-one year-old actress, found
herself behind bars at the Sybil Brand Institution for Women.The actress had been caught shoplifting
eighty-six dollars’ worth of merchandise from a Wilshire Boulevard department
store.Following the posting of a $550 release
bond, Lamarr told a throng of reporters the shoplifting accusation was the
result of a “misunderstanding.”
It was an odd turn of events but on January 28, 1966, the
very same day Lamarr was to be arraigned, Gordon promised the actresses’
casting was safe.“This unfortunate happening
will make no difference in our plans,” the director/producer told the
press.“I’m behind her 100%.”But in the days between her brief
incarceration and her first scheduled on-set date, it was obvious things might
not work out. Picture Mommy Dead was already ten-days into its shooting schedule,
with another three weeks of work to go.Lamarr, who had yet been called before the cameras, was considered integral
to those next three-weeks.
Hollywood gossip maven Dorothy Manners reported Gordon’s optimistic
suggestion that “the concentration her role demands” would offer Lamarr a welcome
distraction from her recent petty theft indiscretions.But Manners chose to stir the pot further, making
a passing reference to Lamarr’s prima
donna declaration that she’d work only “between the hours of twelve noon
and five in the afternoon.”It was
Lamarr’s contention that “Any actress who steps before a camera before noon is
indecent.”
The resulting press was making everyone invested in the
film a little uneasy.Embassy was quick
to remind Gordon the budget of Picture
Mommy Dead was a cool one million.The film’s backers were, not surprisingly, concerned over Lamarr’s
eccentric behavior and public statements.Though some conceded in Hollywood even bad or sordid publicity might
prove beneficial in the long run, Gordon was told if he “couldn’t guarantee” Lamarr’s
physical and mental commitment to the project, the actress would need to be
replaced.
Gordon chose to ignore the warning signs, determined to push
forward with his original plan.On Wednesday
morning, February 2, a limousine was sent to pick up the embattled actress at
her home.The driver was given
instructions to deliver Lamarr to the grounds of the Doheny Estate where her first
scenes were to be filmed.But there was
a new twist. When the driver arrived as scheduled Lamarr was nowhere to be
found: a maid explained the actress wasn’t in residence.She told the driver the actress had been
admitted to Westwood hospital only hours earlier.
The maid’s explanation was countenanced by both Lamarr’s
doctor and attorney.They offered their
client was suffering from “nervous exhaustion,” but would be prepared to go
before the cameras two day’s hence on Friday the 4th. This of course was problematic as a crew was already
awaiting her arrival on location.The
filmmakers decided to check on the Lamarr’s physical and mental well-being
themselves.But when they arrived at the
hospital they learned there was no record of the actress having ever been
admitted.This news was enough for
Embassy to pull the plug on Lamarr’s return to the big screen.A spokesman explained to the press, “We have
too much involved in production costs to chance any delay.”Embassy then announced that actress Zsa Zsa
Gabor had already been offered and accepted the role of Jessica Flagmore
Shelley.
Though Lamarr threatened a legal challenge, her lawyers
would not ultimately pursue the case.“Gordon made it clear,” an Embassy spokesman offered, “that his decision
was in no way predicated upon Miss Lamarr’s recent arrest on shoplifting
charges.”Calling a press conference in
the backyard of her home on the very day of her losing her role in the film,
Lamarr contested all she really needed “was a good night’s sleep,”defiantly vowing to “never act again.” She held
true to her promise.The 1958 noir The Female Animal would remain her final
appearance in a feature film.
The firing put Gordon in an awkward position.He tried his best to smooth things over
before getting back to his work on the film.“I cannot afford to gamble on anyone’s health, but I do have tremendous
respect and admiration for Miss Lamarr as an actress as a woman.And whenever she feels she’s able to work I
have a story in which I would star her.”
In truth, the role Lamarr was ousted from likely wouldn’t
have brought her anything but the briefest return to glory.As the dearly departed Jessica Flagmore
Shelley, Zsa Zsa Gabor really doesn’t have all that much to do.She’s seen in a few brief silent sequences in
the first half of the film, later enjoying a slightly more expanded role near
the film’s climactic end.The crux of Picture Mommy Dead is the mysterious
circumstances surrounding mommy’s death.Was it an unfortunate accident?Or was it murder?
The film offers red herrings aplenty.Shelley’s daughter Susan (Susan Gordon) is convinced
she’s solely responsible for her mother’s fiery demise.Such thoughts clouding her “fragile mind” would
cause her to spend three years convalescing at a convent.Susan’s father Edward (Don Ameche) arrives at
the convent to bring his daughter back home to the estate, bringing along his
new wife Francine (Martha Hyer), Susan’s scheming former governess.The kindly nun (Signe Hasso) who has been
caring for Susan since Jessica’s death warns the couple the young girl is still
not in a good place, traumatized by “phantoms of the past” and “vivid, horrid
nightmares.”
Bringing Susan home to the Shelley estate was, to put it
mildly, probably not the best of father’s decisions. For starters, there’s plenty of Peyton Place-style intrigue at play in
and around the palatial grounds: infidelities, back stabbings and duplicitous
folks scheming to get their paws on the sizable inheritance due Susan.The screenplay’s riddling mystery is who – or
whom – are behind the cruel plan to drive Susan out of her mind so they can
steal away the Shelley fortune.
The film as written is an uneasy pairing of those old-fashioned
mansion-dagger-inheritance mysteries of the 1930s made fresh with a dollop of
psychological mumbo-jumbo.I’m guessing
Hitchcock’s Marnie (1964) served as a
partial template for Sherman’s scripting. In fact, I kept thinking of Tippi Hedren’s
character of Marnie throughout the entirety of Picture Mommy Dead since Martha Hyer’s hairstyle is
near-identical.To be fair, the
difference ends there.Hedren’s Marnie
was simply a troubled gal, Hyer’s Francine is simply trouble.
Though there are a couple of interesting plot twists here
and there – and a falconry scene involving Susan running in terror for safety
is mildly suspenseful – Picture Mommy
Dead is, at best, a workmanlike feature.Neither a great film nor a poor one, it’s a semi-suspenseful time-waster
which attempts to hitch a formulaic murder mystery with Jungian psychoanalysis.Not so successfully, in my opinion.
This is no slight on director-producer Bert I.
Gordon.We “monster kids” of a certain
generation revere the filmmaker for his work on such cult classics as Beginning of the End (giant
grasshoppers), The Amazing Colossal Man
(giant nuclear blast survivor), The
Cyclops (giant mutation), The Spider
(giant spider) Food of the Gods
(giant rodents) and Empire of the Ants
(giant ants) etc. etc. But with Picture Mommy Dead, Gordon found himself
deep in the shadow of a cinematic giant of another sort, one more difficult to
triumph over: Alfred Hitchcock.
This Kino Lorber Studio Classics Blu-ray edition of Picture Mommy Dead is presented in 1920
x 1080p, with a ratio of 1.85:1, dts sound and removable English
sub-titles.The film looks brilliant,
Kino engineering this new issue from a new 4K restoration. The set rounds off
with five theatrical trailers that support other Kino product as well as an
audio commentary courtesy of writer-producer-directors Howard S. Berger and
Nathaniel Thompson.
Stella Stevens, the beautiful and talented American
actress, who enjoyed a long career, passed away on February 17. She was 84.
Stella was my friend.
We became friends in early 2000 when I co-hosted a
benefit screening of The Poseidon Adventure on board the Queen Mary ocean liner
in Long Beach, CA. Stella was gorgeous and wonderful during the question and
answer portion of the evening. Stella loved her fans, and she sparkled on stage
between Shelley Winters and Pamela Sue Martin. Over the years, a group of
mutual friends would have a potluck dinner and show Stella’s films on a 16mm projector.
Halfway through the film, we would have desert. Stella told fascinating stories
about the films we saw and how they were made. She had a great sense of humor,
and the evening was always filled with laughter.
Stella loved animals, especially her cats and her horses.
She had an outdoor spirit, but she could easily dress up and look every inch a
movie star. Somewhere I read that Stella was one of the most photographed women
on earth in the 1960s. Stella was extremely talented and left behind a large
body of work. She was requested to be in films by some of the major male actors
and directors in the business.
Stella was very kind to me. She invited me to her home,
she had lunch with me in Beverly Hills, and she had dinner at my home many
times. She was gracious to everyone. I shared holidays with Stella and her
partner, Bob, on several occasions. Laughter and friendship is what I think of
when I think of Stella.
Rest in peace.
(James Radford is the author of "Adventures on the
Queen Mary".)
(Welch in a publicity photo for the 1967 spy film "Fathom".
(Cinema Retro Archive)
By Lee Pfeiffer
Raquel Welch, the actress who took the international film industry by storm with her appearance in the 1966 remake of the fantasy film "One Million Years B.C.", has passed away after a brief illness. Welch was one of the last of the so-called "Glamour Girls" of this period; actresses who were chosen primarily for their looks and measurements as opposed to their acting abilities. But Welch defied the odds and didn't prove to be a flash-in-the-pan in terms of popularity. She was one of the last of the big studio contract players- in this case 20th-Century-Fox, which meant she could only make films for another studio if Fox approved. She had little say over the films she appeared in during this period and she would later look back on them with disdain. However, retro movie fans would be largely defensive of many of these films, as they cast her opposite popular leading men of the period as Frank Sinatra, Ernest Borgnine, Stephen Boyd, Jim Brown, Burt Reynolds, Robert Wagner, Edward G. Robinson, James Stewart and Dean Martin. Among her best films of this era were "100 Rifles", "Fantastic Voyage", "Bandolero!", "The Biggest Bundle of them All" and "Lady in Cement". Some were duds, such as the misguided thriller "Flareup" and the disastrous sex comedy "Myra Breckinridge". She became an instant pop culture icon due to the famous photo of her as a cavegirl sporting a fur bikini in "One Million Years B.C." Teenage boys around the world had the resulting poster adorning their bedroom walls. In the early 1970s, she played vengeance-driven female gunslinger in the Western "Hannie Caulder", a victim of Richard Burton's lady killer in "Bluebeard", a roller derby queen in "Kansas City Bomber" and a member of the all-star cast in the murder mystery "The Last of Sheila". By the mid-190's, she played a comedic co-starring role in the big budget version of "The Three Musketeers" and its sequel "The Four Musketeers". Critics finally acknowledged that she could act and should be judged by her talent and not her image as a voluptuous sex symbol.
(Welch in her first leading role in "Fantastic Voyage" (1966).
(Photo: Cinema Retro Archive)
When the prime big screen roles began to vanish, Welch suspected it may have been due to her suing MGM over age discrimination when she was fired as the leading lady in the film "Cannery Row" and replaced by Debra Winger. The studio countered that Welch had acted unprofessionally on the set. She won the case and $10 million in damages but it seemed to make studios reluctant to hire her again. Nevertheless, she successfully reinvented herself with live shows on stage including an acclaimed leading role in the Broadway production of "Victor/Victoria". She also scored with a funny self-deprecating appearance as herself in "Seinfeld" in which she was presented as an obnoxious, hot-tempered diva.
Welch kept a low profile in recent years and was rarely seen in public. She was married four times and is survived by a son and daughter. Despite her sex symbol image, she was always proud that she never gave in to offers to appear nude on screen or in print. She was the one who got away, said a disappointed Hugh Hefner who couldn't use influence or money to lure her to the pages of Playboy.
In
May 1977 my parents and I saw George Lucas’s Star Wars and my life
changed forever. We saw it July with other family members and a third time in
November prior to the release of Steven Spielberg’s Close Encounters of the
Third Kind (henceforth abbreviated as CE3K). The trailer
for CE3K was mysterious and intense to my young eyes and the prospect of
seeing it again led me to turn down my parent’s offer to sit through Star
Wars a second time after that afternoon’s showing. What frightened me about
the trailer was not the chaotic scenes with Richard Dreyfus and Melinda Dillon,
but rather the sequence wherein Bob Balaban and Francois Truffaut approach
Richard Dreyfuss in a claustrophobic makeshift room to interrogate him about
what he has seen, reminding me of my first trip to what I considered to be the
Ninth Circle of Hell: THE PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE. In retrospect, I am amused by
this memory and my initial impression of the film.
If
you look at the history of Steven Spielberg’s work, his films are about many
things, not the least of which is people’s impressions of the world around
them. Additionally, a common theme that runs throughout much of his work is the
notion of broken families or absent parents. Beginning with his film debut, The
Sugarland Express (1974), and continuing with the father who is not around
much for his young children in Jaws (1975), or a UFO-obsessed power
plant worker who leaves his family for other worlds in the aforementioned CE3K,
or a lonely young boy who feels a connection to an alien in E.T. The
Extra-Terrestrial (1982), or the broken family that needs to come together
to survive in War of the Worlds (2005), to name a few, authority figures
are often anything but authoritative. His latest film, the wonderful and semi-autobiographical
The Fabelmans, is a story that has existed in Mr. Spielberg’s mind all
his life and finally needed to come out during the height of the coronavirus
pandemic during worldwide downtime, if it was going to come out at all. Collaborating
with writer Tony Kushner for the fourth time, Mr. Spielberg gives the audience
a sense of what his turbulent childhood was like.
Although
Mr. Spielberg was born in Cincinnati, OH, his family moved around due to his
father’s position as an electrical engineer in the burgeoning computer industry.
In The Fabelmans, Burt Fabelman (Paul Dano standing in for real-life
father Arnold Spielberg) and Mitzi Fabelman (Michelle Williams standing in for
real-life mother Leah Adler) take their young son Sammy (Mateo Zoryan) to see his
first movie, Cecil B. DeMille's The Greatest Show on Earth, in Haddon
Township, NJ in 1952. The spectacular train crash seen on screen both
captivates and frightens him. Using his father’s 8mm camera with his mother’s
secretive permission, he recreates it with his train set that he received for
Hanukkah, and this gives Sammy the confidence to start shooting films involving
friends and his three younger sisters.
Years
later, Sammy is much older and now portrayed by Gabriel LaBelle. His father is
offered a better job, and this takes them to Phoenix, AZ along with Burt’s
friend and business associate Benny Loewy (played endearingly by Seth Rogen). Sammy
shoots footage of them all on a camping trip, including a headlight-illuminated
dance performed by his mother in her nightgown, which makes a deep impression
on Benny. Following Mitzi’s mother’s passing and her subsequent sadness, Burt urges
Sammy to create a little film of the camping trip to cheer her up, which he
does begrudgingly while he is shooting a film with his fellow Boy Scouts. In
the film’s most inspired moment, the family’s Uncle Boris (Judd Hirsch in a
wonderful performance) briefly visits, giving Sammy a spirited monologue about the
discord between art and familial responsibility. The turning point in the film
comes when Sammy sorts through the campfire footage, only to discover that
“Uncle” Benny is showing more than a passing interest in Mitzi: they are caught
holding hands and getting too close for comfort in the background images. Sammy
is shellshocked. After more strife, the family is uprooted yet again, this time
to Southern California, where he encounters both severe antisemitism at the
hands of two school bullies and experiences first love with a devoutly Christian
girl who puts Jesus first. More turmoil ensues, and Sammy ultimately learns to
use his natural gift for filmmaking to deal with personal traumas and bending
others to his will.
Steven
Spielberg is my favorite director, and he shares the number one spot for me in
a tie with Stanley Kubrick. Both men have made extraordinarily entertaining and
mind-bending films. It was a constant joy to watch The Fablemans as it
gives the audience a window into the person who would go on to become the
creative genius who not only makes great movies but is also and deservedly
financially successful at it.
I
met Leah Adler in November 2008 when I was getting ready to come home from a
horror film convention. She owned a restaurant called Milky
Way, which opened in
1977, and when I walked in, she was there to greet me. I began gushing about
her son, how CE3K was the first film of his that I saw and how it blew
me away, what Raiders of the Lost Ark and E.T. meant to me, etc.
She guided me over to a table and listened intently to my rambling, and when I
thanked her for encouraging Steven to become a filmmaker, she paused and simply
said, “I don’t know where the hell he came from.” This made me burst out
laughing as I have always thought of her son as the best friend I never met
(not entirely true: I waited outside the Ziegfeld Theater in June 2005 for
eight hours the day of the War of the Worlds premiere and managed to get
his autograph and snap a few photos of him). If he and I grew up together, we
would have been inseparable – watching movies, talking about movies, making
movies, you name it. My own parents were not movie fanatics by any means, and
they could just as easily have said the same thing about me! The few times that
my family went on vacation, I was enlisted to shoot the home movies. When I was
fourteen on vacation in Florida, I began shooting our home movies from a
cinematic perspective. This is due to Steven Spielberg.
Todd Garbarini with Leah Adler, November, 2008. (Photo: Todd Garbarini).
The
new 4K UHD Blu-ray and standard Blu-ray combo is now available from Valentine’s
Day, appropriate as this film is a Valentine to Mr. Spielberg’s parents. It
comes with some extras, and I had my fingers crossed that the director would
have provided an audio commentary (something that he flatly refuses to do as he
wants his films to speak for themselves and feels that it’s a way to lifting a
curtain behind the magic), however he has stuck to his guns and I must respect
his decision. It does feature some nice extras:
The
first piece is called The Fabelmans: A Personal Journey and runs 11:00.
It focuses on comments by producer Kristie Macosko Kriger, who is on board with
the director for the ninth time; co-writer Tony Kushner, and how the film came
about, the product of a conversation while the director was shooting Munich
in Malta in 2005.
The
second piece is named Family Dynamics and runs 15:28. Much of the cast
of the film discusses their feelings and interpretations of the real-life
people they portray in the film.
The
third and final extra is called Crafting the World of The Fabelmans and
runs 22:04. This is a bit more in-depth with input from Production Designer
Rick Carter; Costume Designer Mark Bridges; Directory of Photography Januz
Kaminski; Property Master Andrew M. Siegel; Editors Michael Khan (on his 30th
film with the director) and Sarah Broshar; Actress Chloe East; Actors Sam
Rechner and Oakes Fegley; and Maestro/Composer John Williams.
The set also includes a digital version for streaming.
While
the film is a no-brainer for Spielberg completists, being one is not a
prerequisite as it can be enjoyed as a work of fiction for those who do not
idolize the subject of the film.
The
Fabelmans is an example of
life not only imitating art, but art imitating life as well.
Edgar
Rice Burroughs’ Tarzan first appeared in the October 1912 issue of the pulp
fiction magazine “All-Story.”
This inaugural novel, “Tarzan of the Apes,”
introduced the character as a British peer, Lord Greystoke, who was reared by
great apes in Africa as an orphaned infant, and then assimilated into European
society in adulthood as a sophisticated adventurer and conservationist.
Burroughs was ingenious in working out the details of the premise (for example,
how Tarzan taught himself to read and write), which bordered on science-fiction
even by the standards of 1912.
The
story was immediately popular, and a hardcover edition followed in 1914.
It’s important to term the character “Edgar Rice Burroughs’
Tarzan,” as he was typically labelled in media credits, because the author
shrewdly trademarked the name. That way, he could control all uses of his
creation, reap the profits, and legally stop any attempts by others to hijack
it. As Burroughs realized, the birth of the motion picture industry and
the growth of newspaper syndication in the early 1900s offered access to
unlimited audiences. Many middle-class people in small towns might never
buy a magazine or a book, but they were sure to be movie-goers and newspaper
readers. Securing Tarzan as his Intellectual Property allowed Burroughs
to exploit those opportunities and ensure they didn’t fall into the hands of
others. He incorporated himself as Edgar Rice Burroughs, Inc., and wrote
twenty-two more Tarzan novels over the next thirty-five years, along with many
other science-fiction and adventure series. Burroughs—and then after his
death in 1950, his heirs—licensed Tarzan to numerous other media platforms,
including movies, radio, a newspaper comic strip, comic books, toys, and
television. If podcasts, Twitter, YouTube, virtual reality, video games,
and streaming video had existed back then, we can be certain he would have
utilised them too. Today, when we think of creators who wisely kept a
tight commercial grip on their creations, Walt Disney and George Lucas are likely
to come to mind, but Burroughs led the way.
Over
the years, movies’ portrayals of Tarzan have varied from the wily, masculine,
powerful, articulate, principled character of Burroughs’ original vision to a
muscular but asexual simpleton with the verbal skills of a two-year-old.
The latter version was popularised for one generation by MGM’s Johnny
Weissmuller movies in the 1940s, and reinforced for the next by years of reruns
on television. The Weissmuller films began promisingly with the violent,
sexy “Tarzan the Ape Man”
in 1932 and “Tarzan and His Mate”
in 1934, but over time at MGM (and then at RKO, where the series moved in
1943), they became increasingly simplistic. Under the fierce censorship
of Hollywood’s Production Code, MGM tightened down on the semi-nudity and
mayhem of the first two films, aiming instead for a juvenile demographic.
The studio reasoned that kids were an easier audience who would laugh at the
antics of Tarzan’s chimpanzee and not wonder why Weissmuller’s Tarzan never had
intimate relations with Jane.
The
last seven decades have seen a variety of Tarzans. Some producers adhered
to the Weissmuller model, beginning with five features from RKO starring Lex
Barker, who inherited the role after Weissmuller retired his loincloth.
Others redesigned the concept to meet changing trends in society. In the
James Bond era of the 1960s, a character closer to the Burroughs prototype
appeared in two features starring Jock Mahoney and three with Mike Henry.
This peer of the jungle realm was a suave, jet-setting trouble shooter.
The image of an articulate ape man carried over to a 1966-68 NBC-TV series with
Ron Ely in the role. Where Mahoney’s and Henry’s character travelled to
India, Thailand, Mexico, and South America to solve jungle crises, Ely’s
remained in Africa, in one episode coming to the aid of three nuns from America
played by Diana Ross, Mary Wilson, and Cindy Birdsong, better known as the
Supremes. Even with those attempts to appeal to a more contemporary
audience, popular interest waned. In part, this was because the
Weissmuller image was the one that stuck in the popular memory, lampooned by
television comics. What can you do with a hero once your audience laughs
at him? Even more to the point, enormous cultural changes around racial
issues occurred with the advancements of the Civil Rights era. Many
critics now saw Tarzan as a worrisome symbol of white entitlement, despite the
prominent casting of Black actors and a more nuanced portrayal of African
tribal societies in the Ron Ely series.
Nevertheless,
with a brand name that older viewers still recognised at least, the character
continued to appear sporadically. If you gathered around the VCR with
your family as a kid in the Reagan years, the Tarzan you may remember best was
Christopher Lambert’s portrayal in 1984’s “Greystoke: The Legend
of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes.” “Greystoke” had the good fortune to appear
as VCRs became standard fixtures in American television rooms; on home video,
the movie enjoyed a long life as a VHS rental. Adapted by Robert Towne
from “Tarzan of the Apes”
and directed by Hugh Hudson, the film was promoted as a return to Burroughs’ concept
of a feral but innately intelligent man who attempts to blend back into polite
society. Some Burroughs fans, primed to embrace a virile Tarzan close to
the commanding pulp-fiction character, were disappointed. In trying to
rectify the prevailing Weissmuller image from decades past, Towne and Hudson
may have overbalanced in the opposite direction. Burroughs’ Tarzan
dominated whatever environment he chose to be in; Lambert’s was a sad figure,
overwhelmed and lost,once he left the jungle. Nevertheless, lavishly
produced, the movie was popular with critics and general audiences. There
were Academy Award nominations for Towne’s screenplay and for Rick Baker’s
costuming effects for Tarzan’s adopted ape family. Another live action
movie (“Tarzan and the Lost
City,” 1998), two short-lived, syndicated TV series, and Disney’s animated “Tarzan” (1999) were released through the
1990s.
The
latest iteration as a live-action feature, “The Legend of Tarzan”
(2016), drew tepid reviews and disappointing box-office. Although the
producers cast Samuel L. Jackson in a prominent role alongside Alexander
Skarsgard’s Tarzan above the title, the strategy probably did little to attract
younger, hipper, and more diverse ticket-buyers as it was intended to. Jackson’s
American envoy remained little more than a sidekick to Tarzan in an 1885 period
setting. If you hoped to see Jackson’s character shove Tarzan aside to
get medieval on somebody’s ass, you were disappointed. In contrast,
Marvel Studios’ “Black Panther,” with a modern Black jungle hero, a largely
Black supporting cast and production team, and James Bond-style action
situations, emerged two years later with a whopping $1.3 billion in ticket
sales and a place on many critics’ Top Ten lists. The 2022 sequel, “Black
Panther: Wakanda Forever,” performed nearly as well with an $838.1 million
return.On a $50 million budget, another
2022 Hollywood production with a prestigious Black cast and exotic action in
the Burroughs style, “The Woman King,” nearly doubled its investment with $94.3
million in revenue.
In
late 2022, Sony Pictures acquired the latest screen rights to Tarzan and
promised a “total reinvention” of the character.What the studio has in mind, and whether it
will actually follow through, appears to be up in the air right now.Would anybody be surprised to see Tarzan
“reinvented” as a role for a Black actor the next time out, if there is a next
time? Popular culture is already there.Vintage movies (“A League of Their Own”) and TV series (“SWAT”) once
cast primarily with white actors are remade now, routinely, with Black stars or
all-Black casts.On the hit Netflix
series “Bridgerton,” actors
of color portray British aristocrats in Jane Austen’s Regency-era England, in
reality one of the whitest of white societies ever.
As
we wait to see what the next Tarzan, if any, will look like, The Film Detective
has released “The Tarzan Vault
Collection,” a three-disc Blu-ray set that includes the first Tarzan movie, “Tarzan of the Apes” (1918); “Adventures of Tarzan” (1921), a re-edited
feature version of a 10-chapter serial; and “The New Adventures of
Tarzan” (1935), a 12-chapter serial presented in its entirety. The first
two pictures starred Elmo Lincoln, a stocky actor who had appeared in several
of D.W. Griffith’s milestone silent films, including the ambitious “Intolerance” (1916) as a Biblical strongman, “the Mighty Man of Valor.” Although it’s
said Burroughs wasn’t particularly fond of Lincoln’s casting after another
actor was chosen but had to bow out, the films were relatively faithful to the
source novels. Outdoor filming locations in Louisiana for “Tarzan of the Apes” stand in acceptably for
equatorial Africa, at least to the satisfaction of moviegoers in 1918 who had
no idea what Africa really looked like, and certainly better than the studio
backlots used in the Weissmuller films. Actors in shaggy anthropoid
costumes portrayed Tarzan’s ape friends. Although primitive in comparison
with the modern CGI in “The Legend of
Tarzan,” the makeup effects aren’t bad for that early era of cinema.
“Adventures of
Tarzan,” based on Burroughs’ “The Return of Tarzan” (1913), finds Tarzan in
pursuit of a villain named Rokoff, who has kidnapped Jane in a plot to find the
treasure vaults of the lost city of Opar (an idea later reiterated in “The Legend of Tarzan”). In “The Return of Tarzan” and subsequent novels,
Tarzan blithely removes gold and jewels from Burroughs’ imaginary Opar to help
support his African estate, reasoning that otherwise the treasure would just
lie there. In the books, the underground vaults are vast, cavernous, and
sinister. In the movie, where the 1921 budget was too low to keep up with
Burroughs’ staggering imagination, they look more like somebody’s root
cellar. Good try anyway. As an hour-long feature truncated from a
much longer serial version, “Adventures of Tarzan”
is a succession of chases, rescues, and fights from the final chapters of the
serial. A title card at the beginning brings the viewer up to speed on
the action already in progress, much as the “Star Wars” movies do
now.
It
may be confusing to watch an old serial after most of its continuity has been
removed, but the third movie in the Film Detective set, “The New Adventures of
Tarzan,” represents the other side of the coin as a serial presented in its
original, multi-chapter format. The serials were designed to be taken one
chapter at a time each week. That remains the best way to experience
one. Otherwise, watched in a binge, repetition becomes a problem.
It’s difficult to work up much concern when Tarzan falls into a
crocodile-infested river in Chapter Seven, if, an hour earlier, he’d already
escaped the same danger in Chapter Three. Still, taken piecemeal or in
one long sitting, fans will be happy for the chance to see this original
version of “The New Adventures of
Tarzan,” which is better known in its truncated feature version, “Tarzan and the Green Goddess,” a one-time
television staple. Co-produced by Burroughs, it introduced Herman Brix, a
1928 Olympics finalist, as the title hero. Trimly muscular, Brix was
offered as an alternative to Johnny Weissmuller’s monosyllabic Tarzan; his
version, endorsed by Burroughs, spoke in whole, commanding sentences and looked
equally comfortable in a loincloth or a dinner jacket. The serial was set
and filmed on location in Guatemala, where Tarzan and his friends race against
the bad guys to find a Mayan statue with a valuable secret. Fans often
rank Brix with Jock Mahoney and Mike Henry as their favourite Tarzan. He
later changed his screen name to Bruce Bennett for a long career in Westerns
and crime dramas. Humphrey Bogart fans will remember him as Cody, the
drifter who tries to steal Fred C. Dobbs’ gold mine claim in “The Treasure of Sierra Madre.”
The
back story of the serial is more intriguing than the plot about the Mayan
statue. Burroughs fell in love with the wife of his co-producer, Ashton
Dearholt, eventually marrying her after she divorced Dearholt and Burroughs
divorced his first wife. In turn, Dearholt had carried on an extramarital
affair with Ula Holt, the lead actress in the serial, and they married after
Dearholt’s divorce. It’s the kind of Hollywood story that TMZ.com would
love today.
In 1975 film director Sam Peckinpah was at loose ends.
His last film, “Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia,” while an artistic triumph
of a certain kind, was a box office failure. He had a script for a movie called
“The Insurance Company,” but couldn’t get any backing for it. When United
Artists offered him a chance to direct a movie based on Robert Rostand’s novel,
“Monkey in the Middle,” he took it. The book was a thriller about security
expert Mike Locken, hired to protect an African diplomat traveling through London.
He takes the job because one of three elite assassins hired to kill the
diplomat was a former colleague who had shot him up on his last job and left
him for dead. The new assignment was a way to get revenge.
Peckinpah saw some elements in the story that he felt he
could work with. But when UA offered the Mike Locken role to James Caan, he
said he didn’t want to work in Europe, where he’d been working the last several
years. He’d do it, if they changed the location to the U.S. Marc Norman rewrote
the script that Reginald Rose had written based on the novel, but UA and
Peckinpah hated it.Top notch
screenwriter, Oscar winner Stirling Silliphant (“In the Heat of the Night”) was
hired to do a new script. Silliphant, only married a year to Tiana, his 33-years
younger Vietnamese actress wife, said he’d do the script but only if they
agreed to put her in the picture as Locken’s love interest. Peckinpah tested
her and gave the part.
Tiana and Silliphant were both former students of Bruce
Lee and Silliphant had always had an interest in Asian culture and philosophy. So
he set the story in San Francisco, using Chinatown, the Golden Gate Bridge and
other locations, and brought aboard kung fu and martial arts experts like the
legendary Tai Chi master Kuo Lien Ying to play some of the background
characters. He created a fictitious security agency named ComTeg, and changed
the character of the African diplomat to a Taiwanese politician named Chung
(Mako), who was traveling with his daughter Tommy (Tiana). Robert Duvall was
brought on board to play George Hansen, Locken’s best buddy, who in the movie’s
first act, succumbed to a better offer from the opposition on a previous
assignment, and shot Locken in the knee and elbow, “retiring” him from active
service. The first 40 minutes of “The Killer Elite” consists mostly of Hansen’s
betrayal and Locken’s rehabilitation, rendered in excruciating detail. He
learns to use a metal elbow brace and wooden cane as martial arts weapons.
Locken’s bosses at ComTeg, Cap Collis (Arthur Hill), and
Lawrence Weybourne (Gig Young), tell him he has to retire with disability.
“Let’s face it,” Collis says. “That knee of yours will never be anything but a
wet noodle.” When the CIA contracts ComTeg to provide security for Chung and
his daughter while they’re in the U.S., they’re not interested until they learn
that Hansen is heading up a team to eliminate Chung. Collis and Weybourne offer
Locken his old job back—the chance for revenge that Mike has been waiting for.
Locken gets in touch with two members of his old team for
two or three days of work. “I don’t think anyone could handle more of what we
got.” He meets up with Jerome Miller (Bo Hopkins) on a hillside overlooking the
Golden Gate Bridge, where he’s practicing his skeet shooting, which is probably
not something that happens there every day. Miller tells him he doesn’t think
his company would hire him. “They’ve got me classified as a psycho.” Locken
tells him: “You’re not a psycho, Jerome. You’re the patron poet of the manic
depressives.” A typical Silliphant line.
Next up is Mac (Burt Young), his old driver, who now runs
a garage, where he just happens to have a bullet proof taxi available that
would be just perfect for the job Locken has in mind. Mac’s wife calls Locken
Mr. Davis. When Locken asks why, Mac says: “When you’re around, she calls
everybody Mr. Davis.” They don’t know it, but while everybody’s getting
reacquainted, a mechanic has attached a bomb to the exhaust manifold.
The trio drive to San Francisco’s Chinatown to pick up
Chung and his daughter. Naturally there’s a gun battle with Hansen and another
gunman perched on the roof of the building across the street from the place
where Chung is staying. They manage to shoot their way out, but Mac hears
something rattling under the taxi. It’s bomb disposal time. They pull over on
an overpass and get some assistance from a dim-witted motorcycle cop— another
scene that is as unrealistic and impossible as the scene with Jerome skeet
shooting out in the open by the Golden Gate Bridge.
At this point you begin to suspect there’s something
weird going on. This is not your typical action thriller being played out here.
As the story moves on absurdity piles on absurdity, all of which culminates in
an unlikely battle between assassins equipped with automatic weapons and a team
of ghost-like ninjas armed with swords, aboard the deck of an abandoned
battleship, part of the Navy’s Mothball Fleet anchored in Suisan Bay. Got all
that?
Critic Pauline Kael in a 1976 review for The New Yorker
described Peckinpah’s career as a constant battle with studio bosses who
consistently tried to take the movies he made away from him, demanding changes
more in line with their thinking rather than his. As a result he kept making
movies that are more about that battle than any melodramatic plot that may be
involved. “There’s no way to make sense of what has been going on in
Peckinpah’s recent films,” she wrote, “if one looks only at their surface
stories. Whether consciously or, as I think, part unconsciously, he’s been
destroying the surface content.” According to Kael, “He’s crowing in The
Killer Elite, saying, ‘No matter what you do to me, look at the way I can make
a movie.’”
She attributes most of the film’s weirdness to Peckinpah,
but it might also be instructive to look at the career of screenwriter Stirling
Silliphant for some clues about the subtext both he and Peckinpah present in
The Killer Elite.Like Peckinpah,
Silliphant started out working in television. Peckinpah wrote episodes of “Gunsmoke,”
and created “The Rifleman” and “The Westerner” series. Silliphant wrote for
just about every TV series on the air in the mid-fifties, eventually writing 70
hour-long episodes of the classic Route 66 series, before moving to the movies.
He left television because of the same problem Peckinpah faced in filmmaking—loss
of creative control. He went on to achieve great success in films but when he wrote
the script for The Killer Elite, it was a year after having penned The Towering
Inferno. It was a successful, well-written movie but he probably realized he
had sold out his artistic independence when the hopped on the IrwinAllen Disaster Movie bandwagon, which he began
with The Poseidon Adventure. It would be only a few years after “The Killer
Elite” that he would nearly destroy his career turning out the script for Allen’s
“The Swarm.”
For relief between projects, he would take Tiana aboard his
yacht, the Tiana 2, and sail to exotic ports in the South Pacific. It’s no
coincidence, I think, that “The Killer Elite” ends with Locken turning down a
job offer and a promotion from his old boss Weybourne, and sails away on a
sailboat with his pal Mac (Miller is killed in the gunfight on the Mothball
Fleet). When Silliphant saw no future for him if he remained in what he
publicly called “the eel pit” that was Hollywood he sold everything and moved
to Thailand.
Peckinpah held similar sentiments about the Hollywood
establishment. He said in a 1972 Playboy interview: “The woods are full of
killers, all sizes, all colors. … A director has to deal with a whole world
absolutely teeming with mediocrities, jackals, hangers-on, and just plain
killers. The attrition is terrific. It can kill you. The saying is that they
can kill you but not eat you. That’s nonsense. I’ve had them eating on me while
I was still walking around.” I think he identified with Silliphant’s image of a
hero sailing away from it all if he could.
Imprint’s two-disc box set is a must have for any
Peckinpah fan or anyone who digs action thrillers, Silliphant, martial arts, or
the poetry of manic depression. The first disc presents the “original”
theatrical version in a 1080p high definition transfer from MGM that runs 2 hours
and 3 minutes, and includes a ton of bonus features, most notable of which is a
fabulous audio commentary by Peckinpah expert Mike Siegel. He provides some terrific
revelations about the film and its production and shows a real appreciation of
Peckinpah’s work. Siegel indicates that Sam, at Bo Hopkins’ suggestion, filmed
an alternate “absurdist” ending in which Locken and Mac find Miller alive and
well aboard the sailboat, after having been seen getting shot to pieces. In an
interview with Siegel, Hopkins confirms that bit of info, and even shows some
footage of the scene that was finally excised by the bosses at United Artists,
who just didn’t get it. In a separate commentary ported over from a previous
Twilight Time release, Garner Simmons and Paul Seydor, two film historians whom
I lovingly refer to as the Peckinpah Peckerwoods, and the late Nick Redman,
make the assertion that the complete film, with the Jerome Miller
“resurrection” scene had one showing in Northern California and has never been
seen again.
Well, I beg to differ with that statement. Fellow Cinema
Retro reviewer Fred Blosser and I saw The Killer Elite the night it opened in
December 19, 1975 at a local theater in northern Virginia. The scene in
question was definitely included. Fred states that he has also seen it in the
occasional TV broadcast of the film. So, despite statements made to the
contrary, there probably is at least one copy of the unexpurgated “The Killer
Elite” out there somewhere. JEROME MILLER LIVES!
Other extras included in the Imprint release include an
alternate, shorter version of the film that mainly cuts scenes from Locken’s
painful looking rehab; documentaries taken from Siegel’s The Passion and the
Poetry Project on the works of Sam Peckinpah; interviews Siegel conducted with
Bo Hopkins, Ernest Borgnine, LQ Jones and others. There is so much here to
enjoy. The bad news is that Imprint has sold out of the 1500 copies it made. I
obtained one the last two copies Grindhouse Video had left, but now they are
sold out. Good luck trying to find a copy. Check your usual sources. (Note: as of this writing, there are still a few copies left at
Amazon USA. Although it is listed as a Region 2 set, it is actually
region-free. Click here to order. Good luck!)
Actress Lisa Loring has passed away from a stroke at age 64. Loring was the first actress to portray the character of Wednesday Addams in the classic TV series "The Addams Family" in 1964. She was only 6 years-old at the time but proved to be totally adept at performing among a cast of talented adult character actors. She also lived to see the popularity of the series transferred into a Broadway stage production, hit feature films and, most recently, the popular Netflix series "Wednesday".
Actress Cindy Williams, who co-starred with Penny Marshall in the classic TV sitcom "Laverne and Shirley", has passed away at age 75. Here is a tribute to her work on television and in feature films such as "American Graffiti" and "The Conversation".
Gina Lollobrigida, the reluctant Italian superstar, has died in Rome at age 94. Like her arch-rival Sophia Loren, Lollobrigida was born into humble circumstances in Italy and survived the carnage that was wreaked on the country by Mussolini's ill-fated alliance with Nazi German and Japan. She intended to follow a nondescript life but when she entered a beauty contest, her stunning looks and voluptuous figure attracted the attention of Hollywood. She was sent to Hollywood where none other than Howard Hughes signed her to a film contract. Lollobrigida's career took off like a rocket and she was soon steaming up theater screens opposite the top male boxoffice attractions including Burt Lancaster, Tony Curtis, Frank Sinatra and Sean Connery. Like Loren, she proved to more than a flash-in-the-pan bombshell because she was a fine actress. She was enamored of Rock Hudson, who she co-starred with in two comedies, but griped that she didn't like Sinatra because of his alleged habits of being late on the set. Ironically, Sean Connery complained that she exhibited diva-like behavior on the set of their film "Woman of Straw". She had a tumultuous love life and retired from feature films in the 1970s when the best roles were being offered to younger actresses. She concentrated on her interests in photography and politics.
Click here for more details about her remarkable life and career.
By
Sandra de Bruin with Dean Brierly (BearManor Media), 218 pages, Hardback,
Paperback & Kindle, ISBN 979-8-88771-028-0
By Steve Stiefel
Overview
Hollywood
with a Smileis
not your typical self-indulgent memoir. You will find no axe grinding, closet
skeleton rattling, or “MeToo” posturing in these pages, just captivating
accounts by Sandra de Bruin of her successful and fascinating life as an
actress in the film capital of the world. During a career that spanned decades,
de Bruin enjoyed professional and personal encounters with countless Hollywood
icons. But rather than beating her own drum, she generously directs the focus
onto these familiar faces of film and television.
These
beguiling narratives enlighten and charm in equal measure: a hilarious
fender-bender with Paul Newman; a working relationship/friendship with Charlton
Heston; an affecting encounter with Elvis Presley; accolades from Ricardo
Montalban, James Garner and Dolly Parton; recurring chance meetings with Cliff
Robertson; adventures and misadventures on The Tonight Show Starring Johnny
Carson; a romantic relationship with legendary film director Robert Wise. Plus, intimate
perspectives on de Bruin’s life and dreams, follies and foibles, friendships
and loves.
A
poetical prologue sets the book’s tone and tempo and clarifies its raison d’être.
Additional context is provided through capsule biographies that introduce each
chapter and personality, and which underscore an era in which stars really were
stars. This one-of-a-kind book reveals a side of Hollywood rarely remarked
upon—its good side. Furthermore, the insights that de Bruin offers into the
vagaries of human character and behavior aren’t limited to her star-studded
subjects, but have a universal resonance beyond the bounds of the fabled Dream
Factory.
Photo courtesy of Sandra De Bruin.
Q&A
with Sandra de Bruin and Dean Brierly
Q:One of the most
unique aspects of the book is reading about famous stars like Paul Newman and
Charlton Heston outside of their familiar movie star personas.
A: This was a conscious
decision—to present these iconic figures in a down-to-earth and real-world
context in which they behave just like anyone else. We're all familiar with the
classic stories that have been endlessly repeated and recycled. But in our
book, you will encounter a different aspect, a different side, to people like
Paul Newman, James Garner, Jason Robards.
Q:What was your
reason for starting each celebrity chapter with their mini-biographies?
A: We did that partly
with younger generations in mind who might not be familiar with some of the
celebrities from Hollywood's Golden Era. And we tried whenever possible to draw
parallels to contemporary entertainers: for example, comparing Harry
Belafonte's talents and accomplishments to those of Usher. Not all of the
subjects in the book received the same renown during their lifetimes, like
actor Frederick Combs, designer Ret Turner, or C. Bernard Jackson, the
African-American playwright and founder of the Inner City Cultural Center in
Los Angeles, yet all three made huge creative and social contributions in their
respective domains.
Q:In fact, not all
of the people you write about were superstars.
A: We felt it was
important to pay tribute to the working actresses and actors and the
behind-the-scene folks who, in a real sense, are the backbone of Hollywood.
Their stories can be just as important and inspiring as those of their famous
contemporaries.
Q:Talk about the
tone of the book, which is uplifting and positive rather than self-indulgent
and snarky.
A: This was never
intended as a "tell-all" book, which as a genre feels overdone. There
are countless books devoted to dishing dirt on Hollywood stars, but we felt it
important to take a different approach. Everyone who has read the book says
they appreciate how positive and uplifting and funny it is in a nonjudgmental
way.
Q:Sandra, to a
remarkable degree, you don’t blow your own horn, and willingly reveal, as the
book's subtitle reads, your own follies and foibles. The focus really seems to
be on the subjects you write about rather than yourself. Why did you opt for
this approach?
A: We didn’t want this
book to be just another memoir about someone the general public has never
really heard of. We wanted it to mainly be about the icons of Hollywood and my
encounters with them, not the other way around. However, I also wanted to
include some of my own follies and foibles so the reader would have a sense of
who I am.
Q:Yet, these
anecdotes do reveal a great deal about your character and perspective, not only
with regard to the famous people you met, but towards your career as well. Were
you conscious of this during the writing of the book?
A: Yes, I certainly
was. Acting is definitely an art, but it is also a business. When not actually
performing, I always conducted myself according to my instilled values and in a
friendly business fashion. I never relied on my looks or my sexuality. Talent,
intellect, and tenacity made me a professional working actress.
Q:How did these
unique encounters influence your career and career decisions?
A:
Meeting
all these astonishing and highly successful people in a genre known for its
harsh climate made me realize that I could succeed by being true to myself. The
powers that be apparently respected that and my talent.
Q:
What
was the most enjoyable aspect of writing this book and the most challenging?
A: Writing this book
brought back wonderful memories. It made me giggle at my naiveté and applaud my
tenacity. The most challenging parts of it were the bios and pulling it all
together, but those issues were solved by my writing partner, Dean Brierly.
What a guy!
Q:Sandra, how did
you come up with a limerick for the prologue? It’s heartfelt, inspiring, and
delightful.
A: Thank you! Dean and
I agreed that most prologues are a tad boring and wanted to come up with
something different. After a glass of wine, or maybe two, I just sat down at
the computer and rolled it out. It came so easily! It still astonishes me.
Q:What do you hope
people will take away from your book?
A: That Hollywood is
not just Tinseltown, but is also filled with lovely people, some of whom become
well-deserved icons.
Testimonials
“Sandra
de Bruin’s memories of a cherished era in entertainment history are sure to
keep you captivated from one page to the next. The author’s unforgettable
encounters with select celebrities are presented with such authority and
clarity you feel as if you’re almost reliving the experiences with her.
—J.R.
Jordan, film historian and author of Robert Wise: The Motion Pictures
“What
a happy romp Sandra has written: a mélange of memorable vignettes about stars
she met or admired as a longtime actress in Hollywood. It’s at once warm,
revealing and hilarious. I loved it!”
—Nick
Lyons, author of Fire in the Straw
“I
always felt that actors who did not achieve superstardom have the more
interesting stories, and Sandra de Bruin is no exception. She shares her life
as a working actress, describing amusing encounters with some of Hollywood’s
biggest stars.”
—Tom
Lisanti, author of Carol Lynley: Her Film & TV Career in Thrillers,
Fantasy & Suspense
About
the Authors
• Sandra de Bruin has appeared in over 200
television shows, several major films, many Los Angeles stage productions,
numerous commercials, voiceover and looping...and, oh, yes, danced in a
production at the Los Angeles Music Center. Her informative and witty articles
have appeared in several magazines, and her scripts have been optioned, bought,
sold and dropped by major studios and independent producers alike. She created
the "Actor's Audition Log" and the "Performer's Workshop
Log" to fulfill the organizational needs of her fellow performers from
coast to coast and around the world.
•
Dean Brierlyis a film historian and writer who
has contributed to numerous print and online magazines, including Cinema
Retro, Filmfax, Outre?, and others. Among his many celebrity
interviews are Gordon Parks, David Carradine, Michael Moriarty, Stella Stevens,
Fred Williamson, and Joe Dante. Dean has contributed liner notes for Blu-ray
and DVD releases, and publishes several film blogs, including Fifties Crime
Films and Classic Hollywood Quotes.
Click here to order from Amazon. Available in hardback, softcover and Kindle versions.
"THE WAY WE WERE: THE MAKING OF A ROMANTIC CLASSIC" (Applause)
By Tom Santopietro
I started thinking about The Way We Were as the
subject of a possible book when I happened to hear two women quoting the entire
last scene of the film by heart, re-enacting Barbra Streisand’s Katie Morosky murmuring
“Hubbell, your girl is lovely” to the aging but still golden Robert Redford.
This behavior wasn’t just liking the film- this was quasi-obsession. When I
then happened to catch a re-run of “Sex and the City” where the four best
friends decide that the entire world is divided into “Katie girls” and others,
followed by Sarah Jessica Parker’s Carrie Bradshaw re-enacting The Way We
Were’s finale in front of the Plaza Hotel, I was intrigued. Hooked. Why
does this decidedly flawed film carry such romantic heft? After all, if the
best movies form parts of our world views and shape our dreams, what did this
hyper fandom for a fifty-year- old film say about the way we are today?
As I started to research the history of the film, my
“possibly writing” became a definite “yes”; accelerating the decision was
realizing that by writing about The Way We Were I was actually, if
unconsciously completing my trilogy of books centering on films that people
don’t just like, but actually obsess over: The Godfather Effect- drama, The
Sound of Music Story- musical, and now The Way We Were- romance.
The backstory was juicy in and of itself. Redford didn’t
want to make the film, dragging his heels until director Sidney Pollack wore
him down with promises of rewrites.Screenwriter Arthur Laurents
remained dissatisfied throughout filming, feuding with desperate producer Ray
Stark. The deeper I dug, the more intrigued I became: I spent several days at
the Library of Congress reading through Laurents’s papers, including a
scorching eight-page memo to Stark in whichhe enumerated the film’s
perceived flaws; flaws which he felt- and I’m translating politely here- were
so egregious that they made him feel sick. Eleven different screenwriters had a
hand in the script- no wonder Laurents was perpetually angry. His own life had
inspired several key incidents in the screenplay and his life was now being
re-written by eleven other people.
I liked the fact that in the early going this now iconic
film’s success was far from assured; as one studio executive only half-kiddingly
said to Sydney Pollack: “Barbra Streisand doesn’t sing and she plays a
communist—are you trying to kill me?!” The fact that no one expected a romantic
classic made its now half-century of success all the more intriguing. The film
had received decidedly mixed reviews upon its initial release, although the
stars were highly praised, and Streisand received an Academy Award nomination. (She
lost to Glenda Jackson for A Touch of Class, and when was the last time
anyone decided that they just had to watch A Touch of Class again?)
Streisand, she of the fearsome reputation, proved to be the
easiest personality for Pollack to handle. This was her chance to prove her
chops as a dramatic actress and she was happy with her part; she signed on as
soon as she read the treatment, acknowledging that the treatment more than met
David Lean’s dictum that five good scenes dictates an answer of “yes”. In her
own words: “This had more than five good scenes.” She may have worried over every
last detail during filming, but, Pollack explained, she was not being
difficult- she came from a place of deep concern. She wanted it all to meet her
own perfectionist standards.
A sneak preview proceeded swimmingly- until, that is, the
political unrest of the blacklist period, so central to Laurents’s life and his
conception of the story, shot to the foreground. As soon as the love story
receded, audiences left the theater for popcorn and a cigarette. It was the
love story people cared about, not the polemics. Which meant that after that
first preview in San Francisco, ten minutes of politics was edited out
overnight with a razor blade. Literally. It left the film in a choppy state but
the love story now remained front and center and audiences at the second
preview cheered.
Industry publications predicted a big box office opening followed
by a quick drop-off, but the drop-off never came. Viewers returned to the film
over and over, which leads to the ultimate question: Why did audiences care so
much, unfailingly starting to cry over Katie and Hubbell’s final break-up. And
the more I read, the more I watched, and the more I interviewed (Streisand,
James Woods –his first film- lyricist Alan Bergman, Lois Chiles), I
found four reasons for the film’s extraordinary 50-year hold on audiences
around the world:
nStar chemistry in spades. Redford and Streisand at their
early ‘70s peak, looking great and throwing off sparks together, proving that
opposites really do attract. Everything about them reads as a contrast- looks,
acting styles, manner of speech- and it all blends beautifully.
nIll-fated love affairs are universal. Like Katie and
Hubbell, everyone in the viewing audience has loved the wrong person at one
time. Or at several times. Everyone has loved passionately, if not wisely. As
film historian Jeanine Basinger put it: “Yes- everyone really has loved the
wrong person at one point or another. Except for maybe 10 people- and who wants
to know them?”
nThe uber romantic score by the then unknown Marvin Hamlisch,
who composed the title song on spec, in hopes of scoring the entire movie. His
reward? Two Oscars.
nThat killer ending in front of the Plaza. For the three
people over 50 in the United States who haven’t seen the film, I won’t describe
it- except to say that even critics who didn’t like the film fell for the
ending- it’s an all time keeper.
And as audiences clamored to know if Katie and Hubbell would
ever get back together, the clamor for a sequel grew in volume.Talks were held.
Screenplays were written. So what happened?
To find that out you have to read the book. Besides, I have
my own idea for a sequel.
The Australian video label ViaVision's Imprint line has released "The Avengers: The Emma Peel Collection (1965-1967) as a Blu-ray special edition set consisting of 16 discs containing every episode featuring Diana Rigg. We just received a review set and haven't even made a dent in the mind-boggling number of bonus extra features but we can say that the quality is outstanding throughout. Best of all, the set is region-free.
Here is the official description:
Extraordinary
crimes against the people and the state have to be avenged by agents
extraordinary. Two such people are John Steed, top professional, and his
partner, Emma Peel, talented amateur. Otherwise known as The Avengers.
With lethal bowler hat and umbrella, killer fashion and kung fu, the secret
agents investigate bizarre and colourful adventures with nonchalant efficiency,
sophistication and charm.
Whilst
every era of the long-running, enduringly popular and trend-setting British
series has its own unique style, charm and wit, it is the Emma Peel years that
have become the programme’s most iconic and recognisable, with Diana Rigg’s
portrayal of Mrs. Emma Peel ushering in a new era of excitement, fashion and
iconology, coupled with Patrick Macnee’s continuing depiction of the urbane and
sublime John Steed.
Now,
this 16-disc Blu-ray set brings together every episode from the Emma Peel era
in stunning high-definition encompassing the complete Series 4 and 5, plus a
copious collection of vintage and new Special Features celebrating this peak
era of The Avengers.
Special
Features and Technical Specs:
1080p
high-definition presentation from the original 35mm elements
Collectable
double-sided Hardbox packaging LIMITED to 1500 copies
120-page booklet
featuring essay by Dick Fiddy of the British Film Institute and Story
Information for every episode taken from the original studio files
Original ‘as
broadcast’ mono audio tracks (LPCM)
Original ‘as
broadcast’ “The Avengers in Color” opening slate on Series 5 episodes
Audio Commentary
on “The Town of No Return” by producer / writer Brian Clemens and director
Roy Ward Baker
Audio Commentary
on “The Master Minds” by writer Robert Banks Stewart
Audio Commentary
on “Dial A Deadly Number” by writer Roger Marshall
Audio Commentary
on “The Hour That Never Was” by director Gerry O’Hara
Audio Commentary
on “The House That Jack Built” by director Don Leaver
Audio Commentary
on “The Winged Avenger” by writer Richard Harris
Audio Commentary
on “Epic” by guest actor Peter Wyngarde
NEW Audio
Commentary on “The Joker” by filmmakers Sam Clemens and George Clemens
(sons of writer/producer Brian Clemens) (2022)
Audio Commentary
on “Return of The Cybernauts” by Diana Rigg’s stunt-double Cyd Child
Audio Commentary
on “Murdersville” by producer / writer Brian Clemens
Filmed
introductions to eight Series 5 episodes by producer / writer Brian
Clemens
Filmed
introduction to “The ?50,000 Breakfast” by guest actress Anneke Wills
Brief audio
recollection from guest actor Francis Matthews on filming “The Thirteenth
Hole”
“THE AVENGERS
AT 50” – Footage captured from the 50th anniversary celebration
of the series, held at Chichester University in 2011. Includes: video
message from Patrick Macnee, interviews with producer / writer Brian
Clemens, director Don Leaver (never before released), director Gerry
O’Hara (never before released), stunt co-ordinator Raymond Austin, guest
actress Carol Cleveland, guest actress Anneke Wills, writer Roger
Marshall, and Patrick Macnee’s biographer Marie Cameron
“Dame Diana Rigg
at the BFI” – 2015 on-stage interview and Q&A held at the British Film
Institute in London to celebrate 50 years of Emma Peel
“The Series Of
No Return” – audio interview with actress Elizabeth Shepherd, who was
originally cast as Emma Peel
Granada Plus
Points featuring actor Patrick Macnee, composer Laurie Johnson, writer
Roger Marshall and stunt-double Cyd Child
Bonus Series 6
episode “The Forget-Me-Knot” – Emma Peel’s final story and the
introduction of Tara King
“K Is For Kill”
– excerpt from The New Avengers episode featuring appearances by
Emma Peel
ARCHIVAL
MATERIAL
Armchair Theatre episode “The
Hothouse” starring Diana Rigg (the performance that led to Rigg’s casting
as Emma Peel in The Avengers
Chessboard
Opening Title sequence used on US broadcasts for Series 4
German and
French title sequences
Series 4 UK
Commercial Break Bumper slates
Alternative
titles / credits / end tag of select Series 4 episodes
Series 4
Commercial Break Bumpers
Production trims
from select Series 5 episodes
“The Strange
Case Of The Missing Corpse” – Series 5 teaser film
German
television interview with Patrick Macnee and Diana Rigg by Joachim
Fuchsberger
Colourisation
test footage for “Death At Bargain Prices” and “A Touch Of Brimstone”
Reconstructed
John Stamp Series 4 trailer
“They’re Back”
Trailers, Series 5 Trailer and Series 5 German Cinema Trailer
Extensive Photo
Galleries from the studio archives
1973 Interview
with Diana Rigg discussing her US sitcom Diana, and leaving The
Avengers
Original Aspect
Ratio 1.33:1, b&w / colour
Audio English
LPCM 2.0 Mono
English
subtitles for the Hard of Hearing (Series 4 & 5 episodes only)
BONUS
DISC 1: ADDITIONAL SPECIAL FEATURES
More interviews
from “THE AVENGERS AT 50” including composer Laurie Johnson, writer
and guest actor Jeremy Burnham, stunt-double Cyd Child, and a
screenwriters’ panel discussion featuring Brian Clemens, Richard Harris,
Richard Bates and Terrance Dicks
“Brian Clemens
In Conversation” – on-stage interview at the British Film Institute in
London discussing his early writing career
Extensive Photo
Gallery from The Avengers Fashion Show
Diana Rigg Photo
Gallery
BONUS
DISC 2: THE ORIGINAL EPISODES FILE
Featuring the 4
original episodes from the Cathy Gale era of the series which were remade
in Series 5: “Death Of A Great Dane”, “Don’t Look Behind You”, “Dressed To
Kill” and “The Charmers” (Standard Definition)
Audio Commentary
by writer Roger Marshall on “Death Of A Great Dane”
Audio Commentary
by actress Honor Blackman and UK presenter Paul O’Grady on “Don’t Look
Behind You”
Filmed
introduction by Patrick Macnee and Honor Blackman to “Don’t Look Behind
You”
“Tunnel Of Fear”
– a full-length, previously lost episode from Series 1, recovered in 2016
“THE AVENGERS
AT 50” – interview with Honor Blackman by Paul O’Grady
Click here for full details and to order. (Price is in Australian dollars.)
In the autumn of 1963 the Macmillan Co. published Rohan
O’ Grady’s third suspense novel Let’s
Kill Uncle.The book’s appearance
was certain to command some critical and public notice: the dust jacket and
title page was adorned with the idiosyncratic illustrations of Edward Gorey.The cover blurb offered a small glimpse of
what awaited readers:“In an idyllic, peaceful island setting two
charming children on summer holiday conspire to execute the perfect murder –
and get away with it.”Though a
macabre premise, the book was well-received, the Baltimore Sun, Boston Globe,
Pittsburgh Press, New York Newsday and Chicago Tribune singing its praises.Toronto’s Globe
and Mail crowed Let’s Kill Uncle was
“the jolliest thriller of any year.”
One fan of the novel was the producer-director William
Castle, the undisputed grifting King of Ballyhoo.Castle optioned the property shortly after its
appearance with no immediate plans for production set.After scoring handsomely with his 1959 indie House on Haunted Hill with Vincent
Price, Castle had signed on with Columbia Pictures for a four-film deal in
March of 1959 (later extended beyond the original four pics). Between 1959 and
1964 Castle delivered such popcorn-munching guilty-pleasures as The Tingler, 13 Ghosts, Mr. Sardonicus,
and Strait-Jacket, amongst others.Then, in October 1963, Universal Picture’s
Vice-President of Production, Edward Muhl, signed Castle to a three-picture
deal for a series of “cost-control” films.
Castle’s trio of films for Uni were less celebrated and
money-spinning than his earlier efforts.His second and most recent effort for the studio, I Saw What You Did (1965) did little to buffer his reputation as a
filmmaker nor cash-cow guarantor.As one
critic from the Los AngelesTimes sulked, “I Saw What You Did,
William Castle, and as usual I am not impressed.”Castle’s final film in his three-pic contract
would be Let’s Kill Uncle.By all indicators, the production of Let’s Kill Uncle would be a rushed
affair.One Hollywood correspondent –
having already visited director Brian G. Hutton rehearsing his cast on the set of
The Pad – chose to drop by the
adjourning soundstage where first-day shooting of Let’s Kill Uncle was in process.The columnist was quick to note the film’s “rough edges” were already
showing.The writer noted the fast and frugal
Castle had already shot more film during his brief visit than Hutton would
shoot in an entire day.
Castle had reason to work quickly.In October of 1965, Variety reported the director/producer was soon to again jump ship,
having just inked a multi-picture deal with Paramount.That contract called for Castle to report to
his new bosses on New Year’s Day 1966.Though
Castle was scheduled to begin work on Let’s
Kill Uncle on December 10, 1965, actual production evidently would not
commence until December 20.The clock
was ticking.
One reason for the delay was Castle’s decision to wait on
the availability of “moppet Mary Badham,” the child actress cast as “Chrissie”
in the film.The thirteen-year old was
not yet finished completing work on Sydney Pollack’s drama This Property is Condemned with Natalie Wood, Robert Redford and
Charles Bronson.Another
thirteen-year-old, Pat Cardi, was to join the cast as Barnaby Harrison, the
principal target of his black-hearted Uncle, Major Kevin Harrison (Nigel
Green).Though Cardi’s name was a mostly
unfamiliar one, his face certainly was.The child actor was frequently seen on television screens in a cavalcade
of small roles.Linda Lawson, cast to
play Chrissie’s aunt Justine, was a virtual novice looking for a break.Castle had met Lawson four years earlier when
she delivered mail to him at his Columbia Pictures office.
It’s unclear if Nigel Green was originally sought out by
Castle to play the “Uncle” role.There
were reports as late as December that Leslie Nielsen “had worked out his
shooting schedule on Beau Geste so he
can accept a role in Uncle.”If indeed Nelson was Castle’s first choice to
play the Major, the resulting film - as it stands - might have benefited from the actor’s gift for light-comedy.Whatever the case, Green – just recently seen
as another “Major” in the Len Deighton/Sidney J. Furie production of the
spy-thriller The Ipcress File (1965) –
was brought on.Green’s comedic skills
were not his strong suit, and it wasn’t the best bit of casting.But then everything about Let’s Kill Uncle seems a bit askew.
The shortcomings of this film weighed heavily on the scripting.Castle’s schedule 1963-1965 was a
particularly busy one, so it’s not surprising his optioning of Let’s Kill Uncle was not exercised immediately.In April of 1965 things started moving, Variety reporting the playwright Robert
L. Joseph had been conscripted to adapt O’ Grady’s book as a film treatment, with
tentative plans to start production sometime “next summer.”Whatever the circumstances, Joseph’s
treatment – if submitted at all – was found not up-to-snuff.The responsibility of delivering a workable
adaptation fell to Mark Rodgers, a writer almost exclusively known for his work
on television.
It was, to be fair, a tough work to adapt, as the grim
humor and dark whimsy of O’ Grady’s novel was seamlessly embroidered into a
textual tapestry – a bit of psychological chess-game plotting not easy to
convey visually.Castle chose to dispense
and/or modify many of the novels’ original elements.The setting of the novel is an island off of
the Canadian Pacific coast, there are Mounties trooping about, the treacherous
Uncle” is named “Sylvester,” and there’s even a “soliloquizing” talking cougar
named “One-Eye.”The filmmakers of Let’s Kill Uncle chose to move the
action to an un-named sub-tropical location of palm trees and bananas, there’s
no Mounties or (worse yet!) a talking cougar.The killer Uncle’s moniker was changed from Sylvester to “Kevin
Harrison.” (As has “Chrissie’s.”She’s “Christie”
in the novel).
While these small name changes don’t really figure in or
matter to the final product, the absence of “One-Eye” is unforgivable.As is the lack of suspense one might have expected.The only good thing about moving the locale
from the Canadian coast to the tropics is the welcome – if brief - appearance
of Nestor Paiva as the Steward of the steamer bringing Barnaby and Chrissie to
their new island homes.Paiva, one might
recall, was the captain of the Rita,
the ship slow-trolling the wilds of the Amazon in search of The Creature from the Black Lagoon.It’s Nestor who informs young Barnaby that the
island is cursed, which isn’t too far off the mark, at least for him.
The film never really catches fire.I was hoping to glean Castle’s thoughts on Let’s Kill Uncle in his memoir Step Right Up!I’m Gonna Scare the Pants Off America,
but the director/producer makes no mention of the film’s production nor
reception in the book.The slight filmography
in his book’s back pages gives Let’s Kill
Uncle only the briefest of notice: “Technicolor
murder movie starring kids and Nigel Green.”(It should be noted Director of Photography
Harold Lipstein delivers a film of eye-popping color saturation, the film’s
singular saving grace).
The film was mostly dismissed by critics upon its release
– but there were a few actually enjoyed it.One critic from Box Office
mulled the film’s failure was due to the “scene-chewing and downright brattish
character traits” of Cardi and Badham, that the “homicidal plans” of Uncle
Kevin might have proved “a blessing in disguise” had they been carried out.I generally like William Castle’s shoestring
1960’s psycho-horrors as much as the next guy (assuming that “next guy” also
has lowbrow tastes in cinema), but I found the ninety-two minutes of Let’s Kill Uncle a slow torture.Castle’s fans will at least enjoy the bonus featurette
Mr. Castle and Me: An Interview with
Actor Pat Cardi, which offer a small peek behind the curtain.
This Kino Lorber Studio Classics Blu-ray edition of Let’s Kill Uncle is presented in 1920 x 1080p,
with a ratio of 1.85:1, dts sound, and removable English sub-titles.The film looks absolutely brilliant, Kino
having struck the print from a “Brand New 2K Master.”The set rounds off with two theatrical
trailers of the film as well as the commentaries of film historians Kat
Ellinger (Diabolique magazine) and the
(now sadly recently deceased) author of Teen
Movie Hell, Mike McPadden.
I’m
going to begin this review by cribbing a couple of sentences from my review of
Blue Underground’s double-feature Blu-ray of The Blood of Fu Manchu and The
Castle of Fu Manchu:Sax Rohmer’s Fu Manchu novels were wildly popular
pulps but unapologetically racist in construction, reflective of many western
attitudes of the day. His Fu Manchu series, the first novel having been
published in 1912, were written as blowback in the decade following the long
simmering anti-colonialist, anti-imperialist, anti-Christian, and decidedly
anti-British Boxer Rebellion of 1899-1901. OK, just needed to get that out
of the way before moving on… but we’ll return to examine this subject a bit
later.
I
suppose it’s fitting the fireworks of the Boxer Rebellion serve as the starting
point of Paramount’s The Mysterious Dr. Fu Manchu (1929). The film
flashes with scenes of Chinese fighters in Peking battling colonizing Brits
(and other western allies) in dramatic style. To make the uprising more
authentic in its stage dressing, the trades reported (March 16, 1929) the
filmmakers were planning to comb LA’s Chinatown in search of as many as “500
oriental actors and extras.” They apparently fell short of this ambitious goal.
Reporting four days later, the Los Angeles Evening Express derided, “Los
Angeles’s Chinatown has fallen down on the job,” causing the studio to widen
their search to “surrounding cities for reinforcements.”
It
was only a few weeks earlier (March 3, 1929) that Paramount announced Rowland
V. Lee was chosen to direct The Insidious Dr. Fu Manchu (the true title
of Rohmer’s first novel featuring the fiendish villain). The film’s title was
soon amended to the easier-to-market The Mysterious Dr. Fu Manchu, with
“rehearsals” set to commence immediately on the first week of March. Lee, who
would go on to more famously direct such Universal features as Son of
Frankenstein and Tower of London (both 1939), was short-listed
having recently helmed two pictures for Paramount in 1929: Wolf of Wall
Street and The Women Who Needed Killing. Even as the Boxer Rebellion
battle scenes were being staged, it appears full casting for the film was still
not finalized: several of film’s players were not brought on until mid-April
1929. The film was given a tight shooting schedule, one wag noting “all night
sessions will be the order of things.”
There
were other hurdles to surmount. Hollywood was still making its earliest steps
in their exploration of sound-filmmaking. In April of 1929, the Los Angeles
dailies made note of the challenges of writing for the screen in this new
“sound era.” Filmmakers now needed to pointedly write and cast to address the
vagaries of “foreign” speech patterns and regional dialects. This challenge fell
particularly heavy on the screenwriters. “The dialogue voiced by Fu Manchu and
the other Chinese characters had to be “couched in this peculiar, flowery
oriental style,” according to the Los Angeles Times. “To once digress
from it would have been to possibly ruin the effect of the entire production.”
There
were other issues. There’s more than a bit of stilted over-acting present in The
Mysterious Dr. Fu Manchu: lots of theatrical over-emoting throughout,
several actor’s - understandably - not yet conversant with the new realities of
sound-recording. This is most obvious in the performance of actress Jean Arthur
cast as the beleaguered Lia Eltham, the mink-lined imprisoned daughter of the
man Fu Manchu holds responsible for the death of his wife and child. Arthur is
a great actress – she enjoyed a long career lasting from the early 1920s
through the mid-1960s – but her exaggerated silent-era gesturing and doleful
sways present in this first Fu film are a noticeable throwback to days passed.
I suppose Warner Oland’s Fu Manchu fares better than most as his character is
of course, written as inscrutable: reserved, reticent, cunning and
seemingly less susceptible to theatrical outbursts.
As
the title character, Orland of course stands dead center of the ensuing mayhem.
The actor, soon to command greater fame as the Chinese sleuth Charlie Chan in
the Monogram series, was – famously (or perhaps infamously) - not of Asian
descent. He was Swedish. Of course neither the previous of succeeding Fu
Manchus were of Chinese heritage. Oland’s predecessor Harry Agar Lyons (in a
series of silent-era shorts (1923-1924) was British as were two of Oland’s
successors, Boris Karloff and Christopher Lee. It’s fair to say Orland was the
most convincing non-Asian actor to play the role. Having worked in silent films
from 1912 through 1926, Oland’s “exotic” (by early Hollywood standards)
appearance allowed him to play an assortment of characters of physical
non-western heritage.
Oland
wasn’t bothered with such typecasting. The amount of work offered was
profitable and playing outside his own culture allowed him the chance to test
his abilities. “I like to play the Chinese roles because most of them give me
the opportunity to do some real acting,” he told the Scripps New Service. “In fact,
I like all the roles that give me a chance for difficult characterizations. I
believe character actors are the real backbone of most pictures. They are the
ones who give the production its atmosphere. And, incidentally, the character
actors are the ones who live the longest in the business.”
Obviously,
one can’t look at these Fu Manchu movies in this 21st Century
without groaning at the stereotypes, the insensitive dialogue, and – of course
- the casting of a non-Asian in the title role. To be fair, Caucasians are
damned and thrown under the bus as well. “The white men are kind and generous,”
Fu Manchu soothes his frightened daughter as he finds his home in the crossfire
between British snipers and Boxer rebels. But his opinion soon changes when his
wife and daughter find themselves collateral damage of Britain’s superior
firepower. Now, with the “white men” having failed in their promise to protect
his family and home, Fu has an awakening. “I’ve been blind,” Fu Manchu rages.
“These whites are barbarians, devils, fiends!” Which sets him off to
exact revenge on the offspring of the westerners he holds responsible.
That’s
essentially the plot device of both films in this new set from Kino Lorber. The
two film’s play out much as movie serials of the 1940s do. Lots of villainy,
lots of episodic action, a distressed gal, and a heroic paramour (in this case,
the handsome Neil Hamilton, “Commissioner Gordon” of TV’s Batman (1966).
It’s not great art, but it was – in its time, no doubt – a suspenseful and fun
thrill-ride. Paramount offered previews of The Mysterious Dr. Fu Manchu
in late spring/early summer of ’29 at the Westlake Theatre. Initial critical
reaction was muted: the earliest previews of the original cut ran the gamut
from “overlong” to “somewhat sketchy.” Regardless, upon national release, the
film did well enough that by late January of 1930, the trades announced both
director Lee and Oland (and indeed the entire primary cast of the original)
were to return for a rousing sequel The Return of Dr. Fu Manchu.
In
his promotion of this second coming, Lee – again, tapped to direct - pointed
out the sinister Fu Manchu was intriguing as he was no ordinary gangster. He
was a super-villain, a worthy adversary to Inspector Nayland Smith (O.P.
Heggie). Their rivalry and brinksmanship was much in the tradition of Sir
Arthur Conan Doyle’s Holmes vs. Moriarty. “Dangerous criminals make fascinating
prey,” Lee contended. “Such a man is the fictitious Dr. Fu Manchu. His
mentality, although diverted into wrong channels, is as keen as that of those
who pursue him. He knows what to expect.”
Oland’s
Fu is far more loquacious than inscrutable in this second film. There’s a lot
of bantering dialogue and threats tossed. Perhaps too many. As one critic noted
in his review of The Return of Fu Manchu, “Where is this oriental
laconicism they talk about? Dr. Fu is one of the most garrulous individuals on
record.” Though decrying the film’s excessive verbiage, the reviewer conceded
the film did possess “the virtues of movement… events tumbling over each other
in endless succession from start to finish.” Which sounds, more than a little,
of what critics thought of the crazy but entertaining James Bond opus Moonraker
a half-century later. Not great art, again. But great fun… for some.
I
suspect the audience for this particular Fu Manchu set will be split somewhat
evenly between aficionados of early sound-films and Cinema Study students
examining Race and Ethnicity Depictions of Early Hollywood. There’s a lot to
uncomfortableness to mine through here, no shortage of political and cultural
tripwire hazards in this “woke” era. Are the Fu Manchu pulps and films racist?
Well, of course they are. The question is whether or not the films are still
viable. In his intriguing book Charlie Chan: The Untold Story of the
Honorable Detective and His Rendezvous with American History, Professor
Yunte Huang accepts that many will always view Oland’s Chan as a “Yellow Uncle
Tom,” his impersonations akin to that of a blackface minstrel. But he also
notes that upon Oland’s visit to Shanghai in 1933, local audiences celebrated
the actor for “bringing to life the first positive [Chinese] character in
American film.”
So
it’s all complicated. As an amateur historian, I personally think artifacts of
days ancient and not-so-ancient should be preserved for study and education.
Such storytelling shines light on our past and the best (and worst) aspects of
our world and ourselves. In terms of simple film-collecting, perhaps the
appearance of these two rare-ish Fu Manchu films might pique the interest of
fans of Oland’s far better known Charlie Chan series. In 2009 20th
Century Fox issued an essential five box DVD collection of the actor’s Chan
oeuvre, so there’s evidently interest in Oland’s filmography even some ninety-years
on.
It
might be somewhat disappointing to those more knowledgeable collectors that
Kino chose not to (or perhaps were unable?) to include the third and final film
of the Oland Fu Manchu series on this set. In 1931 Paramount released The
Daughter of Fu Manchu, the last (and, arguably, least) of the series, but
one featuring Anna May Wong as the featured character. To my knowledge The
Daughter of Fu Manchu has never been given a proper official release on
home video, though copies of the film have long been found on the grey-market.
(In 1984 the Video Marquee label issued a clamshell VHS edition of the film as
part of their “Joe Franklin’s Collectibles” series – but I’m not certain this
release had any official sanction). In any case, a two-disc Blu-ray set of this
triumvirate would have surely satiated the desires of the sad Completists
amongst us. I’m not complaining, mind you. While some might wish such dated
fare be removed from circulation as not to offend anyone’s sensibilities, I’m
grateful Kino Lorber continues to shine light on such obscure and mostly
forgotten films from Hollywood’s Golden Age.
This
Kino Lorber Studio Classics Blu-ray edition of The Mysterious Dr. Fu
Manchu/The Return of Dr. Fu Manchu is presented here in 1920x1080p, dts
sound and with an attractive slipcase cover. The film looks very good
considering its age, though neither print is pristine: there are occasional
flashes of white and black emulsion scratches present throughout, and some
shots appear a bit soft. The set rounds off with several theatrical trailers of
period films as well as welcome commentaries courtesy of novelist and critic
Tim Lucas of Video Watchdog fame.
Charles Bronson, the epitome of the screen hero of few words and emotions, is the subject of the French documentary "Charles Bronson: Hollywood's Lone Wolf" from writer/director Jean Lauritano. While the movie's 52-minute running time is hopelessly inadequate for providing much insight into the film legend's life and career, it does benefit from plenty of HD film clips instead of the usual VHS-quality footage culled from public domain movies and well-worn trailers, which is usually the norm in documentaries of this sort. Because the French are generally known as the ultimate cinephiles, the film concentrates primarily on aspects of Bronson's professional career, with only some fleeting insights into his personal life and background. We learn he grew up in a hardscrabble lifestyle in the coal country of western Pennsylvania and seemed destined for a dead end job in the mines. However, after being drafted for service in WWII, he joined a generation of other recently-discharged young men who gravitated toward the acting profession after the war. Like most of his peers, Bronson never dreamed of being an actor and tried out for a play at the suggestion of a friend. He found he had a knack for the profession and soon moved to Hollywood, where he traded his real name- Charles Buchinsky- for Charles Bronson because Senator Joseph McCarthy's "Red Scare" witch hunts were in play and Bronson suspected that a Slavic name would not be beneficial. He found work immediately and was generally cast as ominous tough guys and henchmen largely because he lacked the handsome features of traditional leading men of the era.
In the late 1950s, Bronson landed the lead role in the modestly-successful TV series "Man with a Camera" before director John Sturges cast him as one of "The Magnificent Seven" and in "The Great Escape", both of which afforded Bronson high profile roles. It was during the filming of the latter production that Bronson began wooing actress Jill Ireland, despite the fact that she was married to his co-star and good friend David McCallum. Ultimately, she would divorce McCallum and marry Bronson, but such dramatic developments are dismissed with in a nanosecond in the documentary. Instead, director/writer Lauritano dissects Bronson's achievements on screen, pointing out that he reached leading man status in Europe long before Hollywood recognized his potential as a boxoffice super star. The film presents Bronson as resentful that, while he was starring in films by the likes of Rene Clement and Sergio Leone in Europe, he was still relegated to playing rather nondescript villains in American cinema, despite a high profile role as one of "The Dirty Dozen" and playing a non-violent role opposite Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor in "The Sandpiper".
Brosnson's prospects for American stardom rose with the release of two European films that were well received in the States: the Western "Red Sun" and the real-life crime drama "The Valachi Papers", both directed by Terence Young. Soon after, his collaborations with British director Michael Winner on films such as "Chato's Land" and "The Mechanic" finally afforded Bronson name-above-the-title respect in his native country. The highlight of this period was starring in Winner's "Death Wish", the controversial crime thriller that perfectly tapped into the American public's concerns about urban crime waves of the era. It would prove to be one of the most influential films of all time, for better or worse. The documentary is frustrating because it affords us an interesting overview of a cinematic icon who is rarely examined in any meaningful way, yet it needs to have a much longer running time to do him justice. What exists is impressive, however.
The version of the film currently presented on Amazon for streaming rental or purchase and on Freevee for free, but with ads. (Yuck!)
Louis B. Mayer’s MGM was not a preeminent fright-movie
factory in the 1930s.In a 1935
interview with London’s Picturegoer,
C.A. Lejeune, managing director of MGM in Great Britain, boasted the studio
didn’t “specialise in any single type of production,” whether they be “musicals,
or comedies, or horror films.”That
said, following the successes of Universal’s Dracula and Frankenstein,
and the still-in-production The Bride of
Frankenstein, MGM wisely chose to dip their toe into the horror pool.In doing so, they managed to release a couple
of eerie 1930 classics of their own.In
1935-1936 MGM delivered to the big screen The
Devil Doll with Lionel Barrymore and Mad
Love with Peter Lorre.But the
studio was also interested in capitalizing on Universal’s success of Dracula.So much so they even sought out that film’s director, Tod Browning, to
do so.It was Browning, an earlier collaborator
on multiple silent-film classics starring Lon Chaney, chosen to helm the
production of MGM’s The Vampires of
Prague.
Mayer was not particularly enamored of horror pictures,
but business was business and he recognized Universal was doing good box office
with their string of chillers. MGM did insist writers tapped to scribe The Vampire of Prague should draw upon
an earlier property of theirs:Tod
Browning’s silent feature London after
Midnight (1927).Though only a relatively
few short years separated release dates of London
after Midnight and Mark of the
Vampire (as The Vampires of Prague
would be re-titled), it didn’t seem a large number of critics (circa 1935)
recognized the latter as a re-make of the earlier Lon Chaney film - an effort now
sadly lost for examination and contrast.
So it wasn’t too surprising that MGM brought Tod Browning
on.Though Lon Chaney was dead and gone,
the director had an ace-in-the-hole, an actor holding current high attention.Bela Lugosi had come to Browning’s attention
with his casting in the director’s cinematic adaptation of Bayard Veiller’s 1916
three-act stage mystery of The Thirteenth
Chair (1929).Though Lugosi’s role in
that film was relatively minor – he was only the seventh-billed of the cast – his
subsequent popularity as Bram Stoker’s Count Dracula on stage productions
cemented Browning’s decision to cast the actor in the title role of the iconic
Universal film of 1931.
With this bankable asset in place, Variety reported in December of 1934 that Sam Ornitz and Hy Kraft
had been conscripted to write the screenplay for The Vampires of Prague: but this news was not only late arriving,
but incorrect.When production commence
directly following the New Year (January 12), Guy Endore and Bernard Schubert were
handling screenplay chores. Endore was something of an anomaly among
horror-writers.The author of such works
as The Werewolf of Paris (1933) and Babouk (1934), Endore was a devout
leftist who dressed mysteries with subliminal doses of theoretic Marxism.
That said, the most controversial aspect of Endore’s scenario
was not necessarily political, though its inclusion was completely excised from
the finished film.It’s never explained
why Lugosi’s Count Mora (a virtual mirror-image of his Count Dracula persona) displayed
a visible bullet-hole in his right temple.Actress Carol Borland, playing Mora’s daughter Luna, later reminisced Endore’s
script was envelope-pushing in its construction.In a scene excised from the film, the actress
recounted the original screenplay explained it was an act of incest that caused
Mora to strangle to death his daughter and take his own life with a bullet to
the head.
It was this ghastly act that caused the restless souls of
Mora and Luna to solemnly walk the earth in perpetuity.Endore’s plot device, needless to say,
conjured a scenario far beyond any sort of supernatural hokum: MGM, not without
cause, demanded its exclusion from the finished film.If such a scene was actually filmed, it was
likely excised along with fourteen other minutes reportedly trimmed from the
final cut.In any event, Mark of the Vampire clocks in at a tidy sixty-one
minutes which, all things considered, is probably for the best.
The production was allotted a twenty-four day shooting
schedule and budget of some 305,000 dollars, $3000 of which went to Lugosi for his
(mostly) silent walk-through role.For
those cineastes who complain Lugosi was under-used in Mark of the Vampire – given that the actor’s only speaking lines consisted
of only one or two sentences uttered at the film’s end – such fans should enjoy
the film’s trailer (included here on this new Blu-ray from the Warner
Archive).Lugosi serves as the trailer’s
singular narrator, spookily warning - in his Slavic trademark style, of course
- cinemagoers “Shall be the judges of
this eerie conspiracy!”It was nice
to see the trailer included with the set, however misleading its vampiric content.
In Mark of the
Vampire, Browning and MGM borrow generously from Universal’s established horror
film tropes:cinematographer James Wong
Howe’s photography is atmospheric and moody, particularly in scenes where Luna
stoically skulks the graveyard in her “cemetery clothes.”The film’s exterior setting is a quaint
eastern European village, peopled by superstitious residents who enjoy a bit of
folkloric dancing in the daylight hours - but who wouldn’t dare travel at night
should they encounter such ghouls as Mora and Luna.No string of garlic cloves or wolfs bane are
used to protect the villagers from evil.They prefer a regional botanical they refer to as “Bat’s Thorn.”
In the unlikely scenario someone reading this is not
already conversant with the plot of the film, I don’t want to give too much
away.So I’ll just say elements that
work best and prove memorable are the ghostly mute walk-throughs of Lugosi and
Borland.The latter’s swooping entrance
on a set of animated bat wings during one scene is particularly cinematic.The performances of the cast are all up to
par, though one gets the feeling Lionel Barrymore regards his leading role as unworthy
of his talent.
There are stories of Browning carping on Barrymore’s diffident
performance while the film was in production. Which is surprising as the two were certainly familiar
with each other’s work habits.Though
Browning earned a reputation as a stern taskmaster on set, the director had
worked with Barrymore earlier:on the
Lon Chaney Sr. silent West of Zanzibar
(1928).Though Barrymore is tasked to
play only one-half the character Lon Chaney played in London after Midnight, it is obvious Browning would have preferred
Chaney in the lead role – if only the silent-screen legend had not tragically
already passed in 1930.
Browning’s opinion of Chaney bordered on the
worshipful.In 1928 he enthused the “Man
of a Thousand Faces” famous make-up appliances and grotesqueries were hardly “Chaney’s real secret.He could put the same make-up on the face of
another man and that man would fail on the screen.There is a personality, a something about the
man that grips one.” Even accepting Browning’s
preferences, Barrymore’s performance is not the crux of the problem plaguing Mark of the Vampire. The main weakness of the film is the
implausibility of its red-herring scenario.
Based on Browning’s own short story, The Hypnotist, both London
after Midnight and Mark of the
Vampire are atmospherically disguised as genuine “horror” pictures, but in
truth they’re simply routine mysteries dressed as ghoulish entertainment.While I actually enjoy Mark of the Vampire, I concede the picture might otherwise be regarded
a middling whodunit without the presence of Lugosi and Borland.The actress – who had earlier worked with
Lugosi on a stage production of Dracula,
acknowledged neither she nor Bela were made aware they were merely red
herrings; the final “reveal” page of the script had been withheld until the
final day of production.Universal’s
lawyers tried to get an injunction to stop production of the MGM film,
believing MGM’s use of Lugosi’s Dracula-persona in the film seemed an
uncomfortable infringement of their intellectual properties.But threatened legal action against MGM was dropped
when Universal’s lawyers deemed the case unwinnable.
Universal needn’t have worried: the film doesn’t really
work as a great mystery, much less a gripping vampire tale.One doesn’t need to wait breathlessly until
the closing minutes for the murderer’s reveal.Instead, we’re only given insight into how the perpetrator is entrapped
into confessing.Which doesn’t make for
a particularly exciting climax.The
film’s other weakness is its parlor-room staginess – a plodding element also plaguing
Browning’s otherwise iconic staging of Dracula.
With that said, it wouldn’t be fair to
throw the baby out with the bathwater.Mark of the Vampire is still a classic –
albeit a somewhat minor one – from Hollywood’s Golden Age of Horror.
Previously issued in 2006 on DVD as part of the six-film Hollywood Legends of Horror set, Mark of the Vampire makes its first U.S.
appearance on Blu-ray via this Warner Archive Collection release.Ported over from that earlier set is the
audio commentary supplied by film historian’s Kim Newman and Stephen Jones as
well as the film’s original trailer.“New” to the Blu-ray release are two items of tangential interest to
people interested in circa-1935 cinema: the 8 minute-long The Calico Dragon (a 1935 MGM cartoon) and an episode from MGM’s Crime Does Not Pay series of film shorts
A Thrill for Thelma (1935).
Be warned neither bonus has really anything to do with Mark of the Vampire though there’s a slight connection to the latter bonus.The Crime
Does Not Pay series served as both a long-running film and radio series.On December 12, 1949, Lugosi was a featured
player on the series’ radio broadcast of Gasoline
Cocktail.This arguably might have
been a more interesting audio supplement to include on this archive release,
but interested fans can listen to the Lugosi program easily via You Tube should
they desire.In any event, the release
from Warner Archive looks great: 1080p High Definition 16x9 1.37.1 DTS-HD
Master Audio.This Blu-ray should be on
the shelf of any fan of classic horror film fan or enthusiast of Browning’s
work.
(The following press release pertains to the U.K. release)
STUDIOCANAL have announced the brand new 4K restoration of John Guillermin’s (Blazing Inferno, Death on the Nile)
Academy Award® Winning remake of iconic Hollywood classic, KING KONG (1976).
Starring Jeff
Bridges (The
Big Lebowski, Crazy Heart, True Grit) and Jessica Lange (Tootsie, American Horror Story),
and produced by Hollywood legend Dino
de Laurentiis (Flash
Gordon, Nights of Cabiria, Barbarella), this retelling of the
classic monster adventure film went on to jointly win the Academy Award® for
Best Visual Effects (Carlo Rambaldi, Glen Robinson and Frank Van der Veer), as
well as receiving Academy Award® nominations for Best Cinematography (Richard
H. Kline) and Best Sound (Harry W. Tetrick, William McCaughey, Aaron Rochin and
Jack Solomon). Jessica Lange was also honoured as Best new Actress for her role
at the Golden Globes that same year.
Now restored in 4K for the first time, STUDIOCANAL will re-release
the film across 4K
UHD Blu-ray, Blu-ray, DVD and Digital as well as a 4K UHD Steelbook from December 5.
New artworks have been created for the Home Entertainment releases
by graphic designer Sophie
Bland, and for the 4K UHD Steelbook release by Francesco Francavilla.
The 4K UHD will include a limited-edition poster of Sophie Bland’s artwork.
SYNOPSIS
Fred Wilson (Charles
Grodin), an employee of a large American oil company, has been
charged with a mission to find new oil wells. With a chartered boat, he sets
off on a journey to an uninhabited island in the South Pacific. On board is
also a stowaway: the palaeontologist Jack Prescott (Jeff Bridges) has
smuggled himself onto the ship, as he hopes to examine a rare species of monkey
on this island. On the way, after a violent storm, the expedition also takes on
board the shipwrecked Dawn (Jessica
Lange), who is floating in a lifeboat at sea. When the ship
anchors off the island, however, it turns out not to be as uninhabited as
everyone once thought. The natives of the island perform a strange ritual to
worship a larger-than-life ape named "Kong". As soon as they
catch sight of the blonde Dawn, they decide they have found their perfect offering.
ABOUT THE RESTORATION
This 2022 restoration is presented by STUDIOCANAL and Paramount
Pictures. The 35mm original negative was scanned in 4K and colour graded by
Paramount. The restoration and mastering was then carried out at L'Immagine
Ritrovata, under the supervision of STUDIOCANAL. The purpose of this
restoration was to give a new lease of life to the film for audiences to enjoy
on the big screen, and eventually on the smaller screen. A 4K DCP was created,
as well as a UHD HDR Dolby Vision master, to enhance the sharpness and
brightness in cinemas which is not usually possible with a standard HD master.
In addition there is a new, improved and cleaned up 5.1 audio.
STUDIOCANAL owns one of the largest film
libraries in the world, boasting nearly 7000
titles from 60 countries. Spanning 100 years of film history.
20 million euros has been invested into the restoration of 700 classic films
over the past 5 years.
SPECIAL FEATURES
· Extended TV
broadcast cut (unrestored)
· Audio commentary
with film historian Ray Morton
· Audio commentary
with actor and makeup artist Rick Baker
· Interview with
Barry Nolan
· Interview with
Bill Kronick
· Interview with
Scott Thaler and Jeffrey Chernov
· Interview with
David McGiffert and Brian E. Frankish
Film critic Ann Thompson worked on early John Carpenter movies as a press agent, including the original 1978 horror classic "Halloween", which is being reissued to theaters. Thompson recently reunited with the director and actress to reminisce about the making of "Halloween", which was made for a relatively small budget and became a boxoffice blockbuster. Carpenter also discusses how his superb remake of "The Thing" made him cynical about working with major studios after it under-performed at the boxoffice- a fate that was blamed on his ambiguous ending to the movie. Click here to read.
When
the Argentine actress Isabel Sarli passed away in June 2019 the world lost one
of the most beautiful, glamorous, and let’s be honest, sexy women in cinema.
She was a superstar, a goddess, whose twenty-seven films from 1958 to 1984 with
partner-director and frequent co-star Armando Bó caused scandal and outrage in
their home country of Argentina, and yet outside of the Spanish-speaking world
she is relatively unknown. Aside from some films making it to New York’s 42nd
Street grindhouses they did not make much of an impact, which is a great pity,
so one hopes that this book, the first about Sarli to be published in English,
will go some way towards improving the situation.
Isabel
Sarli, nicknamed Coca, a former Miss Argentina who reached the semi-finals for
Miss Universe in 1955, made her film debut swimming nude in Thunder Among
the Leaves (1958), and immediately caused a sensation. The scene is often
said to be the first glimpse of full-frontal nudity in Argentinian cinema. She
immediately became a star and embarked on a remarkable partnership (and
personal relationship) with its director Armando Bó. She was said to be the
cleanest woman in cinema, as so many of the films featured her bathing or
showering. She was also not averse to frolicking naked in snow, on sand or in
the jungle. She was Insatiable (also the name of her last film with Bó
in 1984). In what is probably their most famous film Fuego (1969), she
trysts with her lover, her housemaid and even random workmen she picks up in
the street, whilst in Fever (1972) she memorably pleasures herself
whilst fantasising about horses copulating. With other film titles in their
career like Tropical Lust (1964), Naked Temptation (1966) and Intimacies
of a Prostitute (1972), it is no wonder she was a famous sexual icon whilst
at the same time attracting a vast amount of censorship and distribution issues
at home.
As
Victoria Ruétalo makes clear in this excellent book, Sarli was not only in
front of the camera; she was heavily involved in the production of the films. After
all, it was her body that was frequently the selling point, so it only seems
right that she had an element of power and control over what was going on. The
book explores their filmography in relation to Argentinian politics, in
particular in reference to the Perón era and its emphasis on the power of the
working man. It is surely no coincidence that Sarli’s first nude swim saw her
being watched by a local worker. Frequently Sarli’s sexuality was present in
relation to the working class, juxtaposing leisure with the hard labour they
had to perform. Sometimes, as in Meat (1968) where Sarli’s character is
kidnapped by some of her fellow workforce in the meat-packing factory and
gang-raped, the working man is the enemy. These films could be challenging as well
as titillating.
Ruétalo
also looks at the problems inherent in trying to research a subject when
archives have been destroyed. There was so much government censorship within
Argentina, but sadly the records were disposed of, and the historian is left
trying to find crumbs that still reveal something about what happened.
Thankfully the book is able to present us with what she was able to locate.
Their impact on the Spanish-speaking world is also assessed. Not only did Sarli
and Bó shoot their films around South America, making the most of the
spectacular locations on offer, but they were also seen in many countries as
well as Argentina. In Feugo they even managed a short trip to shoot
scenes in New York, adding further local appeal for those grindhouse audiences.
Violated Frames: Armando Bó and Isabel Sarli's Sexploits is an
essential read for anyone interested in learning more about this fascinating
piece of World Cinema history and the fabulous icon that was Isabel Sarli.
The first African-American to direct a major film for a majorHollywood
studio was Gordon Parks, whose feature film debut "The Learning Tree"
was released in 1969. Parks may have shattered the glass ceiling but
there wasn't a tidal wave of opportunities that immediately opened for
other minority filmmakers, in part because there were so few with any
formal training in the art. One beneficiary of Parks' achievement was
Ossie Davis, who was internationally respected as a well-rounded artist.
He was a triple threat: actor, director and writer but his directing
skills had been relegated to the stage. In 1970 Davis co-wrote the
screenplay for and directed "Cotton Comes to Harlem", a major production
for United Artists. The film was based on a novel by African-American
writer Chester Himes and proved to be pivotal in ushering in what became
known as the Blaxploitation genre. In reality, it's debatable whether
"Cotton" really is a Blaxploitation film. While most of the major roles
are played by black actors, the term "Blaxploitation" has largely come
to symbolize the kinds of goofy, low-budget films that are fondly
remembered as guilty pleasures. However, "Cotton"- like Gordon Parks's
"Shaft" films that would follow- boasts first class production values
and top talent both in front of and behind the cameras. Regardless, the
movie had sufficient impact at the boxoffice to inspire a seemingly
endless barrage of Black-oriented American films that were all the rage
from the early to mid-1970s. The Blaxploitation fever burned briefly but
shone brightly and opened many doors for minority actors.
The film was shot when New York City was in the midst of a
precipitous decline in terms of quality of life. Crime was soaring, the
infrastructure was aging and the city itself would be on the verge of
bankruptcy a few years later. Harlem was among the hardest hit areas in
terms of the economy. The once dazzling jewel of a neighborhood had
boasted popular nightclubs, theaters and restaurants that attracted
affluent white patrons. By the mid-to-late 1960s, however, that had
changed radically. Street crimes, organized gangs and the drug culture
spread rapidly, making Harlem a very dangerous place to be. It was
foreboding enough if you were black but it was considered a "Forbidden
Zone" for most white people, who spent their money elsewhere, thus
exacerbating the decline of the neighborhoods. "Cotton Comes to Harlem"
serves as an interesting time capsule of what life was like in the area,
having been shot during this period of decline. Director Davis was
considered royalty in Harlem. Despite his success in show business, he
and his equally acclaimed wife, actress Ruby Dee, never "went
Hollywood". They stayed in the community and worked hard to improve the
environment. Thus, Davis was perfectly suited to capture the action on
the streets in a manner that played authentically on screen. Similarly,
he had a real feel for the local population. As with any major urban
area, Harlem undoubtedly had its share of amusing eccentrics and Davis
populates the movie with plenty of such characters.
The film opens with a major rally held by Rev. Deke O'Malley (Calvin
Lockhart), a local guy who made good and who is idolized by the
population of Harlem. O'Malley is a smooth-talking, charismatic con man
in the mode of the notorious Reverend Ike who uses religion as a facade
to rip off gullible followers. This time, O'Malley has launched a "Back
to Africa" campaign for which he is soliciting funds. It's based on the
absurd premise that he will be able to finance disgruntled Harlem
residents back to the land of their ancestry. The hard-working,
semi-impoverished locals end up donating $87,000 in cash but the rally
is interrupted by a daring daytime robbery. An armored car filled with
masked men armed with heavy weaponry descend upon the goings-on, loot
the cash box and take off. They are pursued by two street-wise local
cops, "Grave Digger" Jones (Godfrey Cambridge) and his partner "Coffin"
Ed Johnson (Raymond St. Jacques). Davis provides an exciting and
colorful car chase through the streets of Harlem, as the cops fail to
snag the robbers. They also discover that O'Malley has gone missing,
leading them to believe that he orchestrated the heist himself so he
could keep the proceeds raised at the rally. The plot becomes rather
convoluted, as Jones and Johnson learn that a bale of cotton has arrived
in Harlem and its somehow connected to the crime. They assume that the
stolen money has been stashed in said cotton bale, which quickly changes
hands among the most unsavory characters in the community. Getting in
on the action is a white mob boss and his goons who are also trying to
recover the cotton bale. The cotton itself is resented in Harlem because
of its historical links to slavery and by the end of the film, the bale
ends up in a stage show at the famed Apollo Theater where it is used as
a prop in a bizarre production that involves historical observations
about the black experience intermingled with a striptease act! Through
it all, Jones and Johnson doggedly chase any number of people through
the streets, engage in shoot-outs and car chases and come in and out of
contact with Rev. O'Malley, who professes his innocence about being
involved in the robbery. The Rev isn't so innocent when it comes to
other unscrupulous activities such as chronically cheating on his
long-suffering girlfriend Iris (Judy Pace) and manipulating other women
in a variety of ways.
The most delightful aspect of the film is the showcasing of some very
diverse talents of the era. Godfrey Cambridge (who made it big as a
stand-up comic) and Raymond St. Jacques enjoy considerable on-screen
chemistry even if the script deprives them of the kind of witty dialogue
that would have enhanced their scenes together. They make wisecracks
all the time and harass some less-than-savory characters but the
screenplay never truly capitalizes on Cambridge's comedic potential. The
film's most impressive performance comes from Calvin Lockhart, who
perfectly captures the traits of phony, larger-than-life "preachers".
He's all flashy good looks, gaudy outfits and narcissistic
behavior. Lockhart seems
to be having a ball playing this character and the screen ignites every
time he appears. There are some nice turns by other good character
actors including pre-"Sanford and Son" Redd Foxx, who figures in the
film's amusing "sting-in-the-tail" ending, John Anderson as the
exasperated white captain of a Harlem police station that is constantly
on the verge of being besieged by local activists, Lou Jacobi as a junk
dealer, Cleavon Little as a local eccentric, J.D. Canon as a mob hit man
and Dick Sabol as a goofy white cop who suffers humiliation from
virtually everyone (which is sort of a payback for the decades in which
black characters were routinely used as comic foils). The film has a
surprisingly contemporary feel about it, save for a few garish fashions
from the 1970s. It's also rather nostalgic to hear genuine soul music
peppered through the soundtrack in this pre-rap era. Happily, life has
not imitated art in the years since the film was released. Harlem has
been undergoing the kind of Renaissance that would have seemed
unimaginable in 1970. The old glory has come back strong and the center
of the neighorhood, 125th Street, is vibrant and thriving once again.
These societal perspectives make watching "Cotton Comes to Harlem"
enjoyable on an entirely different level than simply an amusing crime
comedy.
(The film is currently streaming on Amazon Prime.)
Australia-based ViaVision's Imprint video line is taking pre-orders for a limited edition (1500) Blu-ray release of "The Avengers: The Emma Peel Collection".The set will be released on 30 November.
This set is Region-Free, which is good news for fans worldwide.
Here is the relevant information:
Number of Blu-ray
Discs
16
Rating
PG
Release Date
30
November 2022
Runtime (in
minutes)
2255
Product Code
IMP3065
Mrs.
Peel… We’re needed!
Extraordinary
crimes against the people and the state have to be avenged by agents
extraordinary. Two such people are John Steed, top professional, and his
partner, Emma Peel, talented amateur. Otherwise known as The Avengers.
With lethal bowler hat and umbrella, killer fashion and kung fu, the secret
agents investigate bizarre and colourful adventures with nonchalant efficiency,
sophistication and charm.
Whilst
every era of the long-running, enduringly popular and trend-setting British
series has its own unique style, charm and wit, it is the Emma Peel years that
have become the programme’s most iconic and recognisable, with Diana Rigg’s
portrayal of Mrs. Emma Peel ushering in a new era of excitement, fashion and
iconology, coupled with Patrick Macnee’s continuing depiction of the urbane and
sublime John Steed.
Now,
this 16-disc Blu Ray set brings together every episode from the Emma Peel era
in stunning high-definition encompassing the complete Series 4 and 5, plus a
copious collection of vintage and new Special Features celebrating this peak
era of The Avengers.
Special
Features and Technical Specs:
1080p
high-definition presentation from the original 35mm elements
Collectable
double-sided Hardbox packaging LIMITED to 1500 copies
120-page booklet
featuring essay by Dick Fiddy of the British Film Institute and Story
Information for every episode taken from the original studio files
Original ‘as
broadcast’ mono audio tracks (LPCM)
Original ‘as
broadcast’ “The Avengers in Color” opening slate on Series 5 episodes
Audio Commentary
on “The Town of No Return” by producer / writer Brian Clemens and director
Roy Ward Baker
Audio Commentary
on “The Master Minds” by writer Robert Banks Stewart
Audio Commentary
on “Dial A Deadly Number” by writer Roger Marshall
Audio Commentary
on “The Hour That Never Was” by director Gerry O’Hara
Audio Commentary
on “The House That Jack Built” by director Don Leaver
Audio Commentary
on “The Winged Avenger” by writer Richard Harris
Audio Commentary
on “Epic” by guest actor Peter Wyngarde
NEW Audio
Commentary on “The Joker” by filmmakers Sam Clemens and George Clemens
(sons of writer/producer Brian Clemens) (2022)
Audio Commentary
on “Return of The Cybernauts” by Diana Rigg’s stunt-double Cyd Child
Audio Commentary
on “Murdersville” by producer / writer Brian Clemens
Filmed
introductions to eight Series 5 episodes by producer / writer Brian
Clemens
Filmed
introduction to “The ?50,000 Breakfast” by guest actress Anneke Wills
Brief audio
recollection from guest actor Francis Matthews on filming “The Thirteenth
Hole”
“THE AVENGERS
AT 50” – Footage captured from the 50th anniversary celebration
of the series, held at Chichester University in 2011. Includes: video
message from Patrick Macnee, interviews with producer / writer Brian
Clemens, director Don Leaver (never before released), director Gerry
O’Hara (never before released), stunt co-ordinator Raymond Austin, guest
actress Carol Cleveland, guest actress Anneke Wills, writer Roger
Marshall, and Patrick Macnee’s biographer Marie Cameron
“Dame Diana Rigg
at the BFI” – 2015 on-stage interview and Q&A held at the British Film
Institute in London to celebrate 50 years of Emma Peel
“The Series Of
No Return” – audio interview with actress Elizabeth Shepherd, who was
originally cast as Emma Peel
Granada Plus
Points featuring actor Patrick Macnee, composer Laurie Johnson, writer
Roger Marshall and stunt-double Cyd Child
Bonus Series 6
episode “The Forget-Me-Knot” – Emma Peel’s final story and the
introduction of Tara King
“K Is For Kill”
– excerpt from The New Avengers episode featuring appearances by
Emma Peel
ARCHIVAL
MATERIAL
Armchair Theatre episode “The
Hothouse” starring Diana Rigg (the performance that led to Rigg’s casting
as Emma Peel in The Avengers
Chessboard
Opening Title sequence used on US broadcasts for Series 4
German and
French title sequences
Series 4 UK
Commercial Break Bumper slates
Alternative
titles / credits / end tag of select Series 4 episodes
Series 4
Commercial Break Bumpers
Production trims
from select Series 5 episodes
“The Strange
Case Of The Missing Corpse” – Series 5 teaser film
German
television interview with Patrick Macnee and Diana Rigg by Joachim
Fuchsberger
Colourisation
test footage for “Death At Bargain Prices” and “A Touch Of Brimstone”
Reconstructed
John Stamp Series 4 trailer
“They’re Back”
Trailers, Series 5 Trailer and Series 5 German Cinema Trailer
Extensive Photo
Galleries from the studio archives
1973 Interview
with Diana Rigg discussing her US sitcom Diana, and leaving The
Avengers
Original Aspect
Ratio 1.33:1, b&w / colour
Audio English
LPCM 2.0 Mono
English
subtitles for the Hard of Hearing (Series 4 & 5 episodes only)
BONUS
DISC 1: ADDITIONAL SPECIAL FEATURES
More interviews
from “THE AVENGERS AT 50” including composer Laurie Johnson, writer
and guest actor Jeremy Burnham, stunt-double Cyd Child, and a
screenwriters’ panel discussion featuring Brian Clemens, Richard Harris,
Richard Bates and Terrance Dicks
“Brian Clemens
In Conversation” – on-stage interview at the British Film Institute in
London discussing his early writing career
Extensive Photo
Gallery from The Avengers Fashion Show
Diana Rigg Photo
Gallery
BONUS
DISC 2: THE ORIGINAL EPISODES FILE
Featuring the 4
original episodes from the Cathy Gale era of the series which were remade
in Series 5: “Death Of A Great Dane”, “Don’t Look Behind You”, “Dressed To
Kill” and “The Charmers” (Standard Definition)
Audio Commentary
by writer Roger Marshall on “Death Of A Great Dane”
Audio Commentary
by actress Honor Blackman and UK presenter Paul O’Grady on “Don’t Look
Behind You”
Filmed
introduction by Patrick Macnee and Honor Blackman to “Don’t Look Behind
You”
“Tunnel Of Fear”
– a full-length, previously lost episode from Series 1, recovered in 2016
“THE AVENGERS
AT 50” – interview with Honor Blackman by Paul O’Grady
ONCE UPON A TIME IN HOLLYWOOD . . . (actually from the
late 50s to the late 80s) there was a famous screenwriter who was something of
a living legend. His name was Stirling Silliphant. He’s all but forgotten now
but he was once one of Tinseltown’s most prolific, highest paid writers, having
turned out 47 produced screenplays (including the Oscar winning “In the Heat of
the Night” (1967), literally hundreds of hours of primetime TV episodes
(including “Route 66” and “Naked City”), and several novels (“Steel Tiger”). He
drove around L. A. in a Rolls Royce, sailed the world in a yacht, was friends
with and a student of Bruce Lee, had an office on the Warners lot and was
married four times—his last to Du Thi Thanh Nga, a Vietnamese actress better
known as Tiana Alexandra, who was also a Bruce Lee student and 38 years
Silliphant’s junior.
Silliphant took an active interest in advancing his
wife’s acting career. Between 1974, when they were married, and 1987, he wrote
parts for her in Sam Peckinpah’s “The Killer Elite” (1975), several TV dramas
(“Pearl” (1978), “Fly Away Home” (1981),” and he created a starring role for
her in “Catch the Heat” (1987), an action movie designed to show off her acting
and martial arts skills. (The film has also been marketed as "Feel the Heat"). Silliphant produced the picture and action director
Joel Silberg (“Breakin” (1984), and “Rappin” (1985), directed. Moshe Diamant’s
Trans World Entertainment which had produced a host of action movies with stars
like Sho Kishogi, and Jean Claude VanDamme, released the film.
“Catch the Heat” features Tiana as San Francisco cop
Checkers Goldberg, who goes to Buenos Aires undercover, posing as Chinese
singer/dancer named Cinderella Pu to investigate Jason Hannibal (Rod Steiger).
He’s a talent agent who is actually a drug kingpin from Thailand who is somehow
smuggling drugs into the U.S. Checkers’ partner, Detective Waldo Tarr (David
Dukes) is already in Buenos Aires, ready to slap the cuffs on Hannibal as soon
as Checkers can come up with some drug-smuggling evidence. Waldo also just
happens to be in love with Checkers.
There is plenty of action in “Catch the Heat,” as
Checkers kicks, punches, and thigh-crushes a host of 80s action movie villains
including Professor Toru Tanaka (Subzero in “The Running Man” (1987), Brian
Thompson (Night Slasher in “Cobra” (1986), John Hancock (“Dead Aim” (1987), and
others. Tiana’s karate moves are authentic and she doesn’t stop moving
throughout the entire film, even in scenes that don’t require any action, such
as when she finds out Hannibal’s fiendish method for smuggling heroin into the
U.S., she becomes so infuriated, she goes to Waldo’s hotel room and instead of
knocking or turning the door knob, she kicks the door off the hinges, raging
about what she’d like to do to him. “He’s not a talent agent,” she shouts.
“He’s a monster.” Probably a line she may have uttered in real life more than
once.
“Catch the Heat” may not be the greatest action movie to
come out of the 80s, but it’s certainly not the worst either, and probably
should be better known than it is, especially among martial arts movie fans.
Silliphant’s script is more of a send-up of the genre, even to the point of
having Checkers wear a “Suzie Wong” dress and wig and talk in a sing-song
Chinese cutie accent when she’s on screen as Cinderella Pu. The satiric
elements seemed to have been lost on Silberg, who probably saw the film as just
another chop socky day at the office.
Unfortunately, it would be Tiana’s one and only starring
role in a feature film. In Nat Segaloff’s biography, “Silliphant: The Fingers
of God,” Tiana explains that despite Bruce Lee’s success, studios were still
reluctant to cast Asians, especially females, in leading roles. Silliphant said
it was racism that prompted one Warners executive to tell Lee, when he was
being considered for the Kung Fu TV series, that Americans would be offended by
having a Chinese man in the living rooms every week. Lee had to leave the
country to find success. According to Tiana, she was an even tougher sell. Producers
and studio executives disliked having the wife of a writer/producer pushed on
them. When Silliphant proposed making Dirty Harry’s female partner in “The
Enforcer” (1976) an Asian, Tiana said, “They were not amused.”
In 1988, a year after “Catch the Heat” flopped,
Silliphant, at the age of 70, moved lock, stock and barrel out of the “eel pit”
that he called Hollywood and expatriated to Thailand, where he said he felt he
had lived in a previous life. He and Tiana remained married for 22 years, but the
last several years of their relationship found them apart more than together.
Silliphant was busily involved in the Bangkok film industry, and managed to pen
at least one decent script, an adaptation of Truman Capote’s “The Grass Harp” –
miles away from the likes of “The Swarm” or even “Catch the Heat.” He died of
prostate cancer in 1996.
Tiana went back to her birthplace despite the U.S. Trade
Embargo that was in place at that time to film “From Hollywood to Hanoi ”, a documentary,
which won critical accolades, and was nominated for a Grand Jury Prize at the
1993 Sundance Film Festival. She has since partnered with writer Christopher
Hampton on several significant projects including serving as associate producer
for “A Dangerous Method (2011).”
Her mini-bio on the Internet
Movie Database says that she is working on a documentary on General Vo Nguyen Giap, the Commander of the
North Vietnamese Army during both the French and the American wars, called “The
General and Me,” to be released in 2025. From
late 2020 to 2021 she traveled the
United States collecting stories and characters for a new series entitled “Detour
66.” The project follows in the tracks of her late husband’s TV series, “Route
66” (1960), and “chronicles the dramas and cultural zeitgeist unfolding across
the Divided States of America.”
Kino Lorber’s Blu-Ray release, presented in collaboration with Scorpion, presents “Catch the Heat” in its 1.85:1
theatrical aspect ratio. The transfer to disc is a major league improvement
over the previous MGM video of 2003, which was full-screen. The only extras are
the theatrical trailer, the VHS Preview Trailer, and trailers for half a dozen
other Kino Lorber action flicks from the 80s. It’s really too bad there wasn’t
at least an audio commentary from a martial arts film authority included as a
bonus feature to provide some background and context for “Catch the Heat.” Now
that it’s out on Blu-ray, maybe it’ll finally get some recognition as an
undiscovered ‘80s cult classic.
(Above: Her Majesty attends the London opening of "West Side Story" in 1962. The title of the film is never mentioned because the Queen could not be seen as making a commercial endorsement.)
By Lee Pfeiffer
Queen Elizabeth was known to be an avid movie fan who looked forward to attending royal premieres. These were generally held at the famed Odeon Theatre in Leicester Square, London. However, she also attended the premiere of the first motion picture to be shown at the Royal Albert Hall, "Die Another Day", which marked the 40th anniversary of the James Bond franchise in 2002. Her Majesty had seen every Bond film, but supposedly favored the earlier ones because they weren't "as loud" as the more recent entries. Indeed, she even participated in that surrealistic 007-themed sketch that was seen as the opener of the London Olympics, "co-starring" with Daniel Craig. On occasion, Her Majesty would also visit film sets, much to the delight of cast and crew.
The Queen's appeal was universal. I'm an American but I felt a connection to her, possibly more than most of my countrymen because I've spent so much time in England since the mid-1990s. In 2002, her attendance at the Royal Premiere for "Die Another Day" and later, "Casino Royale" in 2006, reminded me that no one does opulent and impressive events as well as the Brits. The premieres are always very special occasions with tuxedos and gowns mandatory as a dress code. But when Her Majesty was in attendance, it was all the more special. Audiences have to be seated a full hour before her arrival- no exceptions. When Her Majesty arrived, it was telecast on the big screen so that the audience could enjoy seeing her being introduced to the cast and crew by the producers. When she entered the auditorium, Royal trumpeters took to the stage in their traditional regalia to announce the Queen had entered the auditorium. It was always a moving and unforgettable moment. Her presence was enough to lure Lord Richard Attenborough to the stage before the premiere of "Casino Royale". Pure movie magic made all the more special by the Queen's attendance.
Her Majesty greets actress Diane Cilento and husband Sean Connery at the 1967 premiere of "You Only Live Twice".
The Queen's taste for popular culture was well-known and wasn't restricted to upper-crust fare. In his autobiography, Dick Van Dyke recalls attending the premiere of "You Only Live Twice" and being introduced to her by producer Cubby Broccoli as she made her way down the line of dignitaries and engaged in a few seconds of small talk with each person. Van Dyke was shocked when she told him how much she and her family had always enjoyed watching his weekly TV sitcom. Thus, in the end, she was a woman of privilege and vast wealth- but she never lost her touch when it came to relating to people from all aspects of society. In that sense, she belonged to everyone and that is why everyone today is sincerely mourning her passing.
Writer/Producer Mark Cerulli with the homicidal “Ruby Rose” (Matthew Lucero). (Photo copyright Mark Cerulli).
(Cinema Retro's Mark Cerulli provides an update on his initial report that took readers inside the making of an indie horror film.)
By Mark Cerulli
My
first Cinema Retro report was just after we had wrapped our first shoot for Area
5150, a sci-fi/horror comedy I co-wrote with director Sean Haitz.It was 6 days filled with
warmth, laughter and moments of terror in the high desert outside Palm Springs,
California.But we got it done, movie in
the can, premiere on the horizon, right?
Not
so fast.
Haitz,
an intense storyteller (who also fronts a rock band), wanted to do a “Cold
Opening” to the film, launching the audience right into the action.He had a vision of a terrified young woman,
babbling in a foreign language, running down a deserted highway, trying to get
away from… something.Several
weeks later, damn if Sean didn’t have Kati Rausch, a young Finnish actress,
running down an empty highway in a bloody hospital gown at 7 AM on a
Sunday.She gets recaptured – ‘natch - and
then we meet our villain, Dr. Izar (an amazing character actor named Jed Rowen)
in a prison cell that would have done Hannibal Lecter proud.
Director Sean Haitz lining up a shot in Morongo Valley, CA.
(Photo copyright Sean Haitz.)
A
few months later Sean landed Felissa Rose – the “it girl” of Sleepaway Camp,
now a well-known genre star with over 100 credits including Victor Crowley,
Terrifier 2 and the upcoming Dark Circles.We had her for only one day, so Sean and I pounded
out some scenes where she played a crazy desert rat mom with two feral kids – local
desert residents who brought a menagerie with them including a tarantula,
snakes and scorpions!(In a very un-Bondian
manner, this writer declined the opportunity to have the tarantula crawl up his
arm.) Felissa went all out and delivered an outstanding performance, getting
applause from the sleep-deprived crew.
“No thanks, kid.” writer/producer Mark Cerulli with a cast member and her pet Tarantula. (Photo copyright Mark Cerulli).
That’s
a wrap, right?Well… we realized the
film needed more.In came a
brilliant young producer named Ryan James who had us write some
character-building scenes and stayed on for the duration.The entire cast was brought back for a new
shoot in March ’22.Like the previous year, we made use of every last
minute of daylight, especially during the fabled “Golden Hour” which seemed to
go by in minutes. Once again, we shot
scenes in an abandoned crack house – now even MORE vandalized than on our
previous shoot.Somehow, we managed to
get our new scenes shot both in the desert and in a soundstage in LA that had
very realistic standing sets which we used for the interiors of Area 51.
There
is still more to do – a few more scenes (possibly with an iconic genre actor)
and Sean has an epic attack on Area 51 by our lead mutant, Ruby Rose in mind.
There’s also hiring a skilled editor and funding the maze of post-production –
mixing, scoring, color correcting, etc.But we’re getting there…
For more on Area 5150 or to get involved on the
film, click here.
In the 1960s,
Hollywood studios were ingenious in retooling foreign B-movies for American
drive-ins and double-feature bills.For a perfect case study in their techniques, you would have to look no further
than “Samson and the 7 Miracles of the World,” which American-International
Pictures released here in 1962.The
original Italian version was called “Maciste alla corte del Gran Khan,” or
“Maciste in the Court of the Great Khan” (1961), directed by Riccardo Freda.To some extent, it was already
made-to-order for small-town U.S. ticket-buyers.The star, Gordon Scott, was
well known from his iconic role as Tarzan in five popular films from 1955 to
1960.His co-star, the
French-born Japanese actress Yoko Tani, had recently been top-billed in “The
Savage Innocents” (1960), “First Spaceship on Venus” (1961), and “Marco Polo”
(1962).Moreover,
although critically scorned, strongman epics like this one had a reliable
market among eleven-year-olds and undemanding adults.On the other hand, although
beloved in Italy, the character “Maciste” had no brand-name value on these
shores, and at 98 minutes, the film was too long to fit into its designated
position as half of a thrifty double-feature.No problem.As it had done in acquiring an
earlier Maciste production, known here as “Son of Samson,” AIP substituted
“Samson” for “Maciste,” and replaced the original title with one more likely to
resonate on drive-in marquees.Twenty-two
minutes of footage were removed, eliminating some colorful but tedious back
story, and a pulpy, dramatic lobby poster was commissioned.The graphics were classic.As a muscular, loin-clothed
Gordon Scott pushes over a pillar, a winsome beauty in a harem costume watches.
The girl looks only vaguely Asian and not at all like Yoko Tani.
In the film, Samson
turns up in medieval China where the Mongols have taken over the royal court.The young Chinese prince Tai
Sung is emperor in name only, and his sister Lei-ling has been banished to a
Buddhist convent.The
real power behind the throne is Garak, the tyrannical Great Khan of the
Mongols, who rules as regent, with ruthlessly astute guidance from his mistress
Liu Tai.When rebellious
Chinese peasants mount a feeble resistance, Garak decides it’s time to up his
game.Tai Sung will
“accidentally” die during a tiger hunt, and Mongol soldiers masquerading as
rebels will attack the Buddhist convent and kill the princess.Enter Samson to rescue the
prince from the tiger (as Scott gamely wrestles with an actual, drugged tiger
in some shots, and with a life-sized, stuffed replica in others), while
Lei-ling escapes the massacre at the convent and finds refuge with the freedom
fighters.If this sounds
like the usual playbook for the Samson, Hercules, and Goliath epics of the
1960s, it could also describe any of the “Star Wars” movies.Ditch the tiger, insert a
Wampa or a Rancor instead.George
Lucas’ original trilogies and their sequels from Disney may be more to the
tastes of modern audiences but they’re just as simplistic at heart, when you
come right down to it.
A new Blu-ray edition
from Kino Lorber Studio Classics presents the movie in both its original,
98-minute Italian version and its 76-minute AIP edit, both in the widescreen
2.35:1 format.One
caveat: purists may be disappointed by the soundtrack for the Italian version.It’s an intermediate
English-language track where the hero is still called “Maciste,” perhaps from
the 1964 U.K. release, and not the original Italian voice track.Opening and closing credits
for the AIP edit are inserted from what appears to be an old VHS or television
print.In either version,
attention should be paid to Hélène Chanel as the Khan’s mistress Liu Tai.We may commend the Italians
for casting Yoko Tani as the captive princess Lei-ling at a time when it was
rare to find Asian characters actually played by Asian actors in prominent
roles, but Chanel has the more dynamic female role, and she makes the most of
it with her slinky costumes and icy beauty.The AIP edit features audio
commentary from Tim Lucas, who unpacks a bounty of information about the film
in both iterations.Helpfully
for those of us who might be hard-pressed to identify any of the miracles
promised by American-International, he lists all seven.
The Kino Lorber
Blu-ray also features captions for the deaf and hearing impaired, several
trailers (although oddly, none for “Samson and the 7 Miracles of the World”
itself), and a reversible sleeve.The wonderful AIP poster art appears on one side, and alternative art
from the Italian poster on the other.
Singer/actress Olivia Newton-John has passed away peacefully at her home at age 73, according to a statement from her family. Newton-John was British by birth but her family moved to Australia when she was five years old and rose to international fame there. Her talents were noticed when she performed in high school and she would go on to become an iconic international pop singer. In 1978, she made her screen debut opposite John Travolta in the blockbuster big screen adaptation of the stage musical "Grease". Other film roles would follow, but it was her singing career that never waned. Over the decades, she would sell over 100 million albums. In 1992, Newton-John was diagnosed with breast cancer. She became a symbol of hope by going public with her struggle and raising many millions of dollars to combat the disease. The cancer would reoccur two more times over the years. For more about her life and career, click here.
I’ve always been a fan of the heist/caper
film; a genre which details the planning, execution and aftermath of a huge
robbery. It’s an extremely fun and involving formula in which we oftentimes
sympathize with the thieves and want them to reach their goal. Some notable
heist/caper films are The Asphalt Jungle,
The Killing, Ocean’s 11, Bonnie and Clyde, The Thomas Crown Affair, The Italian
Job, The Getaway, The Sting, Dog Day Afternoon, Thief, A Fish Called Wanda, Reservoir Dogs, Heat and The Usual Suspects. Just to name a few.
Add to the list the comedy caper film A Man, a Woman, and a Bank available on
Blu-ray from Kino Lorber.
Solidly directed by Noel Black from a
humorous screenplay by Raynold Gideon, Bruce A. Evans and actor Stuart Margolin,
A Man, a Woman, and a Bank tells the
tale of friends Reese (Donald Sutherland) and Norman (Paul Mazursky), who
devise an elaborate plan to rob a bank in Vancouver. Things get a bit
complicated, however, when Reese falls in love with a pretty photographer
(Brooke Adams).
Released by Avco Embassy Pictures in
September of 1979, A Man, a Woman, and a
Bank is listed as the first and only film to be made by McNichol, a
production company said to have been created by actress Kristy McNichol and her
mother Carollyne. However, some believe this to be false and state that
McNichol is actually Donald Sutherland’s company. Whatever the case may be, A Man, a Woman, and a Bank is an extremely
enjoyable, well-directed, written and acted feature that definitely deserves to
be seen. The engaging story contains very interesting and likeable three-dimensional
characters. Reese is intelligent, confident, romantic and also a good friend.
The great Donald Sutherland effortlessly gets all this across and makes his
character totally believable. Five-time Academy Award nominee Paul Mazursky is
hilarious and extremely convincing as henpecked hypochondriac Norman, and the
lovely, talented and always welcome Brooke Adams (reuniting here with her Invasion of the Body Snatchers co-star,
Sutherland) shines as adorable photographer Stacey.
The fun feature also benefits from some
wonderful cinematography by the legendary Jack Cardiff and a terrific musical
score by Academy Award winning composer Bill Conti. All in all, it’s an
extremely solid and fun comedic crime film that audiences are sure to enjoy.
The Kino Lorber Blu-ray presents the movie in its original 1.78:1
aspect ratio. The transfer looks beautiful and the disc also contains quite a
few worthy special features. There’s the original theatrical trailer as well as
two very interesting and informative audio commentaries; one by director Noel
Black and producer Peter Samuelson from 2002, and another by film historians
Dean Brandum and Andrew Nette. The Blu-ray also has trailers for four other
films featuring Donald Sutherland: The
Great Train Robbery, Ordeal by Innocence, The Rosary Murders and The Puppet Masters.
Quentin Tarantino has said he thinks the worst American
movies were made in the 50s and the 80s. He dislikes 50s movies because of
their blatant censorship and 80s movies because the central character always
had to be likeable. On the Joe Rogan Experience he pointed out the difference
between a Bill Murray movie and a Chevy Chase movie made in the 80s. Bill
Murray’s characters always started out as assholes but became likeable by the
end of the film. “Chevy Chase movies don't play that shit,” Tarantino said. “Chevy
Chase is the same supercilious asshole at the end of the movie that he is at
the beginning.” He also decried
the way movies in the 50s hardly ever cast Native Americans in Westerns.
All this is to say I’d bet Tarantino most likely would
hate Kino Lorber’s Blu-Ray release of
Universal International’s “Foxfire” (1955), starring Jeff Chandler and Jane
Russell. Chandler was a hunky heart throb who rose to fame and fortune playing
Cochise opposite Jimmy Stewart in “Broken Arrow” (1950), and again with Rock
Hudson in “Taza, Son of Cochise.” Chandler was Jewish, but the public bought
him as a Native American and even as half-Native American, which he plays in
“Foxfire.” His character, Jonathan Dartland, is a mining engineering working in
a copper mine in Lodestone, Ariz., who is ashamed of the fact that while his
father was white his mother is an Apache. He hasn’t spoken to her in years even
though she lives in a nearby Apache Reservation, where she conducts guided
tours.
One day a tall brunette bombshell named Amanda Lawrence
arrives in Lodestone from New York and gets picked up by Dartland and his alcoholic
doctor friend Dr. Hugh Slater (Dan Duryea) when her car has a flat out in the
desert. Despite the fact that Russell was 34 years of age when the movie was
made, and you’d think would have more sense than a 17-year old, Amanda falls
head-over-heels gaga in love at first site with Dartland. Which is hard to
understand, since he’s such surly, morose guy who doesn’t interact well with
others, especially if they get nosey about his Apache background. But Amanda
will have her way and the day after a night of dancing and who knows what else,
SHE proposes to HIM!. At first he tells her it couldn’t possibly work but next
thing you know they’ve gotten hitched. Everybody’s there at the wedding, except
of course his Apache Mama.
I guess they had to go through with it, even though is
seems unbelievable that these two crazy kids would tie the knot so suddenly,
but Universal International had been promoting the movie with the tag line: “JANE’S
GOT JEFF!”. Which I suppose was a 50s version of the tag line that was used
when Clark Gable came back to the movies after serving in WW II to star in
“Adventure” (1945): “Gable’s back, and Garson’s Got Him!” With that line, “JANE’S
GOT JEFF!”, there had to be a wedding, and of course all the plot that would
come after it
One of the most bizarre twists in the plot comes when
Amanda decides to take the bus tour out to the Apache village to meet
Jonathan’s mother. She finds her with a group of tourists, giving them the
historical lowdown on Apache customs. She speaks in a beautiful voice that has
a nice Viennese accent! Saba, the Apache Princess, is played by Celia Lovsky,
the Austrian actress whom you may best remember as T’Pau, the Vulcan matriarch
in the famous Star Trek episode “Amok Time.”
“Foxfire” was directed by Joseph Pevney, who directed 14
episodes of “Star Trek,’ including the “Amok Time” episode. I guess Lovsky’s
performance as Saba years earlier in 1955 made a lasting impression on the
director, or maybe they were just good friends.
Also in “Foxfire” are Mara Corday, as Dr. Slater’s
jealous nurse, who has a crush on Dartland; Robert Simon as Ernest Tyson, the
man who owns the copper mine Dartland works in; Barton MacClane as Dartland’s
foreman, and Frieda Inescort as Amanda’s mother. Dan Duryea give his standard
booze-gobbling performance as the alcoholic doctor, who vies for Amanda’s
attention.
Other than the love story, “Foxfire’s” secondary
storyline concerns Dartland’s belief that the copper mine they’re working on
has a shaft that could lead to a hidden Apache gold mine. Amanda helps Dartland
convince Tyson to come up with the money for the exploratory work, which leads
the film to one of those predictable mine cave-in disasters.
“Foxfire” has a couple of interesting factoids associated
with it. First, it was the last film to be shot on three-strip Technicolor
film, and the photography out in the Arizona desert by William H. Daniels is
well transferred to Kino Lorber’s Blu-Ray disc. Second, although Frank Skinner
composed the score for “Foxfire” the main theme played during the title credits
was written by Henry Mancini, with lyrics written and sung by Chandler. And in
case you want to know, “Foxfire” is what they call the phosphorescent glow that
rise up at night from the rotting timbers in the mine shaft.
The disc comes with a theatrical trailer, and an audio
commentary by film historian Kat Ellinger. It’s not a bad film. It has its
flaws, but if you’re not as finicky as Tarantino, it’s always interesting to
see these artifacts from a different era. “JANE’S GOT JEFF!”
Actress Nichelle Nichols has passed away at age 89. She is best-remembered professionally for her role as Lt. Uhura on the "Star Trek" television series which began on NBC in 1966. The character was groundbreaking. It was the first time an African-American woman had been presented as a powerful character who was essential to the plot lines. In 1968, she shared a screen kiss with William Shatner's Captain Kirk and the moment was a momentous one for American television: the first romantic interracial kiss seen on a television show. Nichols would later relate that she became bored with the character and was considering quitting the series. She was talked out of it by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. , who impressed upon her that her character and presence on the show was an inspiration to young Black people as well as an important symbol of racial harmony. Nichols would go on to appear in the "Star Trek" feature films that derived from the original series. She was also a regular presence at fan conventions, where she related anecdotes about the series to appreciative admirers.
Director Franklin J. Schaffner was fresh off his Best Director Oscar triumph for Patton when he teamed with legendary producer Sam Spiegel for the historical epic Nicholas and Alexandra.
The film was an adaptation of a best-selling book by Robert K. Massie
that traced the tragic events leading to the assassination of Russia's
last czar, along with his entire family. With a screenplay by the
esteemed James Goldman (The Lion in Winter), the film had the
potential to be another Spiegel classic. After all, Spiegel had teamed
with director David Lean to produce two of the great cinematic
masterpieces: The Bridge on the River Kwai and Lawrence of Arabia. Despite
their mutual triumphs, Lean (like most people in the film industry)
came to loathe the gruff Spiegel, whose mercurial temper knew no bounds.
He would chastise gaffers and esteemed directors alike and Lean had had
enough. When he began production on his 1965 blockbuster Doctor Zhivago, Spiegel's
ego was bruised because Lean had teamed this time with producer Carlo
Ponti. If Lean had made a boxoffice smash out of the Russian Revolution,
Spiegel would prove he could do the same thing. Thus, Nicholas and Alexandra was
borne more out of revenge than inspiration. In addition to hiring
Schaffner for the project, Spiegel conspicuously brought two key members
of the Zhivago team with him: production designer John Box and
cinematographer Freddie Young. However, Spiegel's finances were not
adequate to afford the big name stars he had hoped to cast in the lead
roles. Thus, he was forced to cast relative unknowns from the British
stage: Michael Jayston and Janet Suzman. To give the film some boxoffice
allure, he cast a "Who's Who" of British acting royalty in supporting
roles, comprised of legendary established stars and up-and-comers. They
included Laurence Olivier, Michael Redgrave, Brian Cox, Ian Holm, Jack
Hawkins (whose part was dubbed due to the actor's recent throat
surgery), Harry Andrews, Tom Baker, John Wood, Roy Dotrice, Alexander
Knox, Eric Porter and Timothy West.
The story, steeped in historical accuracy, finds Nicholas
ill-prepared to serve as czar over a troubled Russia beset by
devastating economic conditions. With the majority of his people facing
starvation and a daily struggle to survive, Nicholas resides in palatial
splendor in Petersburg with his headstrong wife, Alexandra. Nicholas is
a good man in his own way. He cares about the peasants but lives in a
bubble that prevents him from relating to their day-to-lives. Born of
privilege, he knows no other life. The Romanovs have ruled Russia for
three hundred consecutive years and he sees no reason for the tradition
to stop with his dynasty. He is delighted when Alexandra presents him
with a male heir to the throne, but the boy is sickly and suffers from
life-threatening hemophilia. Still, it's a happy family with Nicholas
doting over his daughters and young son. He seems oblivious that there
is great resentment towards his wife, who manipulates his every move and
keeps him cut off from personal friends. He ignores warnings from his
ministers that he must tone down Alexandra's lavish spending habits,
especially during the poor economic climate. A protest by peasants in
1905 builds tension further when a mishap causes the army to fire on the
people, slaughtering hundreds of them. The seeds of revolution continue
to grow with the agitator Lenin leading the charge in hopes of
establishing a Bolshevik ruling party and deposing the czar. Nicholas'
ill-fated decision to enter WWI against Germany brings about
catastrophic results. Not only are his armies no match against the
Kaiser's but Alexandra is of German heritage, which further builds
public resentment against her. As Russian forces face devastating
defeats on the battlefields, revolution spreads quickly through the
country. Lenin's popularity grows, especially when he promises to make
immediate peace with Germany if he is given power. Before long, the czar
finds himself essentially powerless. He and his family are arrested but
he still believes they will live an idyllic and peaceful life in exile.
Instead, they are shunted between distant locations and housed in
barely-livable conditions as the new order debates their fate. As we all
know, it is a tragic one with Nicholas and his family abruptly shot to
death by an assassination squad.
These dramatic developments play out slowly but in an interesting
manner throughout the film's 183-minute running time. The performances
are all first rate, with Jayston especially good as the sympathetic (if
clueless) czar. Suzman is every bit his match as the egotistical
Alexandra and each member of the supporting cast provides a gem of a
performance, with Olivier and Harry Andrews especially impressive and
Tom Baker stealing the entire movie with his mesmerizing performance as
Rasputin, the crazed monk who had a Svengali-like influence over
Alexandra, much to her husband's disgust. Yet, despite those attributes
and a rich production design, the film never emotionally moves the
viewer as much as one would expect. The characters remain somewhat
opaque and the great historical events that affect them are only given
marginal background and explanation. Schaffner clearly wanted to
emphasize personal relationships over visual splendor and by and large
he succeeded. However, there is some emotional component missing here.
He crafted an impressive movie on many levels but one that perhaps did
not fulfill its ultimate potential. The movie was greeted with the
customary (some would say obligatory) Oscar nominations generally
accorded historical epics. It was nominated for 6 awards (including
nods for Best Picture and Actress) and won in two technical categories.
Nevertheless, overall critical response was mixed and the film was
considered a boxoffice disappointment. Schaffner would go on to make
three more impressive films (Papillon, Islands in the Stream and The Boys From Brazil)
and several flops before passing away in 1989 at age 69. Spiegel never
regained the mojo he once enjoyed in the industry. He would only make
two more relatively low-key films (The Last Tycoon, Betrayal) before he died in 1985 at age 84.
Nicholas and Alexandra may not be the classic Spiegel and
Schaffner had envisioned, but in this age of dumbed-down action movies,
it plays much better than it did upon its initial release in 1971. It's a
film that educates even as it entertains.
(The film is currently streaming on Amazon Prime.)
The
year 1976 was a phenomenal time for films that went into production. George
Lucas’s space opera, Star Wars, began
principal photography in March; Steven Spielberg, fresh off the success of Jaws, was given carte blanche to bring Close
Encounters of the Third Kind to the screen and began shooting in May; and
Dario Argento, who became emboldened by the financial success of his latest and
arguably best film to date, Profundo
Rosso (known in the U.S. as Deep Red),
embarked upon Suspiria, a murder
mystery involving a dance academy hiding in plain sight while doubling as a
home to a coven of witches, which began filming in July. Suspiria is
just one of a handful of films directed by Signor Argento over a fifty-plus
year career, and it’s also being showcased in full-blown 4K Digital Cinema
Projection as part of the sinisterly titled Beware of Dario Argento: A
20-Film Retrospective at the Walter Reade Theater in New York City now through
June 29th. You can see the full calendar at this link here. The one omission from the roster of
titles is his 2009 thriller Giallo, starring Adrien Brody, which was
stopped from being released due to the actor’s failure to be paid for his role
until he successfully sued the producers.
Beginning
on Friday, June 17th, the first film shown in the retrospective was
his debut outing, the phenomenal The Bird With the Crystal Plumage from
1970, lensed by straordinario cineasta Vittorio Storaro, on a double
bill with his equally fine thriller Tenebre/Tenebrae from 1982. Bird
is amazing in that it was the first film that he ever directed…ever.
There were no interminable student films made prior to it. Somehow, following
his years as a newspaper film critic and having contributed to the 1968 western
Once Upon a Time in the West, he made a visually dazzling cinematic yarn
loosely inspired by Fredric Brown’s 1949 novel The Screaming Mimi (itself
made into the 1958 film of the same title by Gerd Oswald starring Anita Ekberg),
though there are also some similarities to the creepy 1949 “Birdsong for a
Murderer” episode of the Inner Sanctum radio drama that starred the late
great Boris Karloff.
The
standout in this series is clearly Suspiria, with its amazingly bright
color palette and virtuoso camerawork. Also of note, at least for die-hard
Argento completists, is his sole non-thriller/horror outing, the 1973 Italian
comedy set during the Italian Revolution of 1848 called The Five Days (Le
Cinque Giornate) shot by cinematographer Luigi Kuveiller who would go on to lens Deep
Red (Profondo Rosso) (1975). While available on Youtube in Italian,
this is an extremely rare presentation of the film with English subtitles –
restored in 4K to boot. It’s also quite funny; not on the level of the Pink
Panther films, but enough to elicit audible chuckles. The seldom-seen Inferno
(1980), his beautiful follow-up to Suspiria, will also be shown, the sole
title to be showcased in 35mm.
The
Italian Maestro appeared in-person at several of the screenings over the
weekend, most notably on Sunday in a Q & A session emceed by Argento expert
Maitland McDonagh, the author of the excellent book Broken Mirrors/Broken
Minds: The Dark Dreams of Dario Argento, originally published in 1991. Following
the sold-out screening of his 1985 film Phenomena, a phantasmagorical fairytale/murder
mystery that was presented to an audience of mostly younger fans who, judging
by their applause and reactions to the film, were new to it. The plot of Phenomena
has long been the subject of ridicule and derision by critics and fans alike
since its initial release. The inevitable complaints about the film range from
the bad dubbing and stiff performances. If the film’s title does not sound
familiar, that could be attributed to the fact that Phenomena was severely cut by 34 minutes and retitled Creepers when it opened in the States on
Friday, August 30, 1985. Fortunately, the 116-minute cut of the film was shown.
Signor Argento responded through an
interpreter to Ms. Donagh’s questions about the film.
Photo: Todd Garbarini. All rights reserved.
Maitland McDonagh:I've always thought that Phenomena was extraordinary
because it's a story that is sort of both a cross between the operatic and the
fairy tale. Dario, what were the origins of Phenomena?
Dario Argento: I was on vacation with my mother on a small
island, and we were listening to Radio Monte Carlo. There was a person telling
a story about how in Germany they had discovered that by examining insects,
they could discover when a person had died. I was very struck by
this and when I returned to Rome, I went to see an entomologist and asked
him how this was possible. He told me, for example, that if somebody fired a
gun off in a room full of insects, that the insects would die. He also
explained that for a whole series of reasons, that it would be possible to
identify a person’s exact date of death using insects, which is described in-depth
in the film.
MM: The insects are one of the most remarkable parts of this film.
Working with them must have been a great challenge. How did you work with your
crew and your on-set insect experts to get the insects to almost be their own
characters in their own right?
DA: For this movie, I needed thousands of flies. I rented a small
theater and completely sealed it off. I put some fly larvae in there and every
week I would throw some raw meat in the room. Eventually, after several
weeks, they turned into a mass of flies that just went after the actor the way
that we had intended and that’s how we shot the end of the film. The insects in
the scenes with Donald Pleasence, who plays the entomologist, were all
manipulated by insect handlers on the set and through editing.
MM: One of the things that really struck me after having viewed this
film after many years, was that it tells the story of two abandoned females.
First, there is Jennifer Corvino played by Jennifer Connelly, whose mother
leaves the family on a Christmas morning, and her father is currently away
shooting a movie in the Philippines, unable to be reached by telephone. The
other female is Inga, the chimpanzee, who loses her friend, played wonderfully
by Donald Pleasence.
DA:Tanga, the chimpanzee who plays Inga in the film, suffered greatly from the loss of
her friend (the Donald
Pleasence character) halfway through shooting. She escaped from the
set. We were working and shooting right near a large forest, and she went into
that forest for almost three days. As
you can well imagine, she became very hungry and so the forest rangers put out
some food and they were able to lure her back out. Tanga was a
remarkable creature; I would tell her what to do and she would simply do it. I
recall that in the film there is a scene where she must break up the wooden
slats on the shutters in order to get into her friend’s house. I showed her how
to do it, and she did it exactly how I showed her. Jennifer Corvino is also a very sad character.
Even though a lot of her classmates must think that she’s so lucky to have this
famous father for an actor, she’s very much alone and off by herself. Because
of this, she becomes prey to a very evil person. This is the story that I
wanted to tell, the loneliness of a young girl. This was a girl that was my
daughter’s age at the time. Jennifer Connelly was thirteen when she played this
role, and she did it with a tremendous amount of elegance.
MM: I also
love the way that you use the Swiss locations in the film, especially the trees
and the wind. They really work well in conveying the mindset of the characters
and the larger forces of nature that are at work.
DA: I have
the character of the professor talk about the foehn, the wind in the Swiss Alps,
with the link into the insects. At the very start of the film, where we see the
trees and the wind, there is this little house set against this vast landscape.
It looks like something right out of a fairy tale, sort of like a gingerbread
house. This young Danish tourist who is accidentally abandoned by her tourist
bus, is all alone in the midst of this panorama of forests, mountains and trees.
There’s this awful thing that is about to happen. The girl who plays her is my
first daughter, Fiore Argento. I really studied for this film very thoroughly.
I put a lot of time and effort into it. I did my best to create this, as you so
put it, operatic fairytale. I did it with great love, and I especially
appreciate the wonderful performance by Jennifer Connelly and what she had to
offer. She was thirteen years-old when we shot the film. This was her first big
movie, and I was just dazzled by her beauty, her intelligence, and her grace.
Photo: Todd Garbarini. All rights reserved.
Dark
Glasses
The
evening was rounded out with the premiere of his new film Dark Glasses (Occhiali
Neri), his first film in ten years, and while it fails to crack the Top Ten
Best Argento Flicks list, it’s still worth seeing in a theater. It was shot in mid-2021
in Italian and has English subtitles. Written over twenty years ago and
consigned to a drawer in 2002 after the financier went bankrupt and ended up in
prison, Dark Glasses was resurrected by his daughter, actress Asia
Argento, who stumbled across the script, read it, and urged him to make it. Described
as a “tender thriller”, this is highly misleading as there is a fair amount of
brutal violence and explicit gore, far more than anything seen in Profondo
Rosso, Suspiria, Tenebrae, Phenomena, or even Opera
– arguably the last truly great film he has made – the films often cited as his
most violent and most censored. If I had to compare Dark Glasses to
anything in his filmography of the past 35 years following Opera, it
would be Sleepless (Non Ho Sonno) (2001).
Diana
(Ilenia Pastorelli) is a matter-of-fact prostitute who finds herself blinded in
an accident caused by a maniac out to kill women in her line of work. Her
misfortune puts her in contact with a young orphaned Asian boy named Chin
(Andrea Zhang) as well as a woman named Rita from the Association for the Blind
and Visually Impaired (Asia Argento, in a refreshingly realistic and subdued
performance, with her own voice to boot!) who works with people to help them
get on with their lives. There is also a seeing-eye dog who comes to the rescue
to help our protagonists out of danger. While some of the plot points feel a
little silly and predictable, the film possesses an extremely atmospheric score
by Arnaud Rebotini. Missing from the film are the very directorial flourishes
that fans have come to love and expect from the Maestro’s golden era, his
genius method of cinematically propelling a story forward with astonishing set
pieces: there are no cameras booring into brains or over buildings, or
excessive jump-cuts, etc. The film boasts a decent performance from Ilenia
Pastorelli and young Andrea Zhang whose characterization of Chin is ultimately
sympathetic as the Mandarin youth the audience roots for. One of the director’s
shortest films at just 90 minutes give or take, the lack of visual splendor may
be a result of the director’s getting on in years – he is currently 81 – and
unwillingness to perform time-consuming set-ups. Or it may be having to make a
film on a smaller budget.
Once
wonders what fate has befallen the director’s as-yet-unfilmed project, The
Sandman, first announce in the fall of 2014. As of this writing, there is
still no word on it, however in the meantime, Dark Glasses fits the bill
as a bright spot in the director’s later filmography.
I know I'm not only getting old, but I'm there already. That's apparent in the fact that I remember seeing the 1981 comedy "All Night Long" at an advanced critic's screening in New York. Back in those prehistoric days before the internet, you had to read trade industry publications to get the background story or buzz on forthcoming films. Sure, the general public was always aware that expensive epics were experiencing production problems, but everyday movie fans were generally unaware of the scuttlebutt on mid-range fare. Within industry circles, however, the word-of-mouth was negative about the film despite the fact that it starred Gene Hackman and Barbra Streisand, both then very much at the peak of their acting careers. The film had gone through some almost surrealistic production problems that involved high profile people and had come in massively over the original budget estimate. I recalled thinking the movie was kind of fun but had the staying power of cotton candy in that nothing about resonated even a few days after seeing it. For old time's sake, I decided to revisit it through Kino Lorber's Blu-ray release. My observations will follow, but first some preliminary facts. The movie was optioned by Fox originally but for reasons unknown (premonitions?), it was dropped. It was then shepherded to executives at Universal by Sue Mengers, the "Super Agent" talent representative who was as famous as the names on her legendary clients. Among them was Gene Hackman, who had taken a leave of absence from acting due due to making so many films back-to-back. Tired of playing in action films, Hackman was eager to star in this quirky romantic comedy that had been scripted by W.D. Richter, who had written the brilliant 1978 version of "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" as well as the Frank Langella version of "Dracula" and the popular crime drama "Brubaker" with Robert Redford. The film was to be a modestly-budgeted affair costing about $3 million. Up-and-coming actress Lisa Eichorn was cast as the female lead opposite Hackman. The director was Jean-Claude Tramont, a Belgian filmmaker who had reed-thin credits in the industry. This was to be Tramont's first Hollywood film and it was very much championed by Sue Mengers, who "coincidentally" happened to be his wife.
So far, so good. However, shortly after filming began, for reasons no one could ever interpret, Hackman began acting in a frosty manner opposite Eichorn, who by all accounts, was giving a fine performance. Because of Hackman's aversion to starring opposite her, their love scenes were less-than-convincing. Since Hackman was the big name, Eichorn was summarily fired, though she was paid her salary of $250,000 in full. Then Mengers stepped forward with what seemed like an outlandish idea: have Barbra Streisand assume Eichorn's role. The idea of Streisand taking over for another actress in a film that was already in production seemed surrealistic, but Streisand agreed- in return for a $4 million paycheck, which said to be the highest salary ever paid to an actor. (In return, she didn't object to Hackman getting top billing, which presumably he had been contractually guaranteed.) As the change-over was taking place, other members of the cast and crew were also replaced, including the director photography. The original composer was the esteemed Georges Delerue, but his score was deemed to be unsatisfactory and Richard Hazard and Ira Newborn were brought on board as the composers of record. (Bizarrely, Delerue is listed in the final credits as "conductor"with his name misspelled as "George", a final indignity.) By the time filming resumed, the budget had blown up to $14 million, a staggering sum for a low-key comedy and a figure that approached half the production cost of "Apocalypse Now".
So what's it all about? Hackman plays George Dupler, a middle-aged L.A. executive who is counting on a big promotion. When he is bypassed, he breaks down and throws a chair through the window. Because of his seniority, management won't fire him but instead demotes him and assigns him to a new job they are sure will result in his resignation. George is to manage an all-night pharmacy/convenient store that is staffed by misfits and patronized by wacky eccentrics. These scenes should be the funniest in the film, but director Tramont overplays his hand and presents over-the-top characters that would generally be found in sitcom episodes. None of the labored sight gags work at all and they seem out of place given the fact that Tramont had indicated his goal was to make a European-style sophisticated romantic comedy. The film improves considerably when it cuts to the main plot points, which involve George learning that his 18 year-old son Freddie (Dennis Quaid) is having a secret affair with cougar Cheryl Gibbons (Barbra Streisand), who is a distant relative. She's married to Bob (Kevin Dobson), a brusque fireman who is the fourth cousin of George's wife Helen (Diane Ladd). Still with me? A chance encounter with Cheryl leads George to have an affair with her. When Helen finds out, fireworks ensue and George spontaneously packs a few things and storms out of the house to find a new abode. He sets up a new home in a cavernous loft that adjoins a class for aspiring painters. He and Cheryl resume their affair, while she simultaneously carries on with Freddie. (A "Yuck! Factor" enters the scenario when George asks Cheryl if he is better in bed than his son.) Screenwriter Richter seems to have been inspired by the plight of Benjamin in "The Graduate", in that Cheryl is not only bedding her lover but his parent as well.
The biggest flaw in the script is that none of the principals are remotely sympathetic. Cheryl is an intentional home-breaker, Freddie puts his lust before any other priority and George is willing to break up his marriage spontaneously with no apparent regrets. Not much to admire there. Richter seems to have realized this and introduces a late plot device designed to excuse George's affair, but it comes across as a last minute contrivance that came to Richter in the middle of the night. Despite all of that, "All Night Long" worked better for me this time than when I originally saw it. The film is flaky in concept and execution but Hackman is always in fine form and it's great to see Streisand in a secondary role that she can play in a subdued manner. (There's a funny bit in which the ditzy Cheryl attempts to sing and can't hit a note, an irony for a Streisand character.) The supporting cast is very good, too, with Kevin Dobson terrific as the hot-tempered cuckolded husband who ignites when he discovers his wife is bedding both George and his son and William Daniels, very amusing as the staid family lawyer who isn't as staid as he seems.
When the film was released, it garnered a few enthusiastic reviews including from the usually grumpy Pauline Kael, but the general consensus was negative. Screenwriter William Goldman, a longtime critic of Hollywood studios (he famous said of the town, "Nobody knows anything") held up "All Night Long" as a prime example of a simple project that began bloated by ineptness, nepotism and egos. The film bombed at the boxoffice and Goldman estimated that when marketing costs were factored in, it would have lost $20 million- and that was in 1981 dollars. Streisand was said to be livid over the marketing campaign poster which implied this would be a zany, madcap comedy, when in fact, it is much more subdued. After the film's failure, Streisand dropped Sue Mengers as her agent. As for Jean-Claude Tramont, his career came to a screeching halt, never to recover before his death in 1996.
The Kino Lorber Blu-ray would seem to call out for a commentary track, but there is none. However, there is an excellent 20-minute recent video interview with W.D. Richter, who candidly describes the experience as an unhappy memory and details some of the factors that led to disaster. He does speak well of Streisand and said there was no evidence of the diva-like demands she is known for. She didn't even insist on any script revisions. Richter also said that Tramont seemed nervous and uncertain in dealing with Streisand and Hackman. He ponders why the film hasn't caught on as a legendary flop, as it certainly would today in the age of social media. My guess is that everyone was still talking about "Heaven's Gate".
The Blu-ray also contains the trailer and a gallery of other KL titles with Hackman starring and two radio spots, one of which is absurd and refers to the film as the "Barbra Streisand picture" without even mentioning Hackman. Recommended, if only for Richter's wonderful interview.
Love and Bullets is a 1979 Charles Bronson starrer that Roger
Ebert appropriately described at the time as "an assemblyline
potboiler". The film initially showed promise. Originally titled Love and Bullets, Charlie, the
movie had John Huston as its director. However, Huston left after
"creative differences" about the concept of the story and its execution
on screen. The absurdity of losing a director as esteemed as Huston
might have been understandable if the resulting flick wasn't such a
mess. However, one suspects that, whatever the conceptual vision Huston
had for the movie may have been, it must have been superior to what
ultimately emerged. Stuart Rosenberg, the competent director of Cool Hand Luke took
over but was unable to create anything more than a sub-par action
movie. The plot finds Bronson as a Phoenix cop who is reluctantly sent
to Switzerland on an undercover assignment. The local prosecutor has
been doggedly trying to convict a local mob kingpin (Rod Steiger) for
years. Now it appears that his moll girlfriend (Jill Ireland) might be a
viable witness in terms of spilling the beans about his operations.
Thus, Steiger has stashed her abroad and is keeping her under constant
watch. Bronson's job is to pretend he is also a mob guy and convince
Ireland to return with him to Phoenix to testify against her lover. The
movie seems to exist for one reason only: the main participants desired a
paid working vacation in Switzerland. This concept is nothing new. The
Rat Pack squeezed in filming Oceans Eleven almost as an
afterthought while they were performing nightly in Las Vegas at the
Sands casino. In the twilight of his years, John Ford famously got his
stock company together for a jaunt to Hawaii and released the result as a
big boxoffice hit called Donovan's Reef, which still must retain the status of being the most expensive home movie ever made.
Love and Bullets is such a lazy effort you have to believe it
must have taken a great deal of effort for the cast to meander to the
set every day. The film also illustrates the danger of love-struck
leading men force-feeding the lady in their lives into virtually every
movie they make. Clint Eastwood shoe-horned Sondra Locke into a string
of his films in the 1970s and 1980s and while some of them were artistic
and commercial successes, I always greeted their next teamING with a sense
of bored inevitability. (Locke was also a prime perpetrator in the
creation of the worst movie of Eastwood's career, The Gauntlet.) In
this case, Ireland had been Mrs. Bronson for over a decade following
her divorce from David McCallum. She was always a competent enough
actress but the couple obviously envisioned themselves as a new William
Powell/Myrna Loy teaming. Not quite. Bronson is on full automatic pilot,
registering almost no emotion. Ireland overplays the role of
bubble-headed moll to an embarrassing level, as though she is a
character in a sitcom sketch. She is saddled with intentionally
laughable fright wigs but the real joke comes when she decides to
discard them for her natural hair style, which proves to be even less
flattering. Absurdity piles upon absurdity as the film becomes one long,
extended chase sequence with Bronson and Ireland squabbling like Ralph
and Alice Kramden, if you can imagine The Honeymooners being
pursued by assassins. Steiger is in full scenery-chewing mode and an
impressive array of supporting actors (Val Avery, Michael V. Gazzo,
Henry Silva and Strother Martin) are pretty much wasted along the way.
I'm generally undemanding when it comes to the pleasures of watching an
unpretentious Charles Bronson action movie but Love and Bullets represents
the latter period of his career where he rarely even tried to elevate
his films beyond being vehicles for an easy pay check.
(The film is currently streaming on Shout! Factory TV and the app and subscription are also available through Amazon Prime Video.)
We’re told the expression “Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold” had origin in
seventeenth-century France.I’ve no idea
if this is accurate, nor convinced it matters.What is unquestionable is that in life, literature and art, the subject
of revenge remains constant.Interestingly,
the avenging of injustices, real and perceived, is common to both heroes and their
adversaries.Sometimes motivations
combine so the separation between heroism and evil becomes muddied.As the iconic and deranged fiend Dr. Anton
Phibes, the great Vincent Price adroitly manages to move his audience to cheer as
his character carries out a series of brutal and theatrical murders.
Price appears as the titular Dr. Phibes in two of what
are, inarguably, the actor’s three best recalled films of the 1970s.The cycle was kicked off by Robert Fuest’s The Abominable Dr. Phibes (1971) and Dr. Phibes Rises Again! (1972), with
Douglas Hickox’s Theater of Blood
(1973) – a similar film in style to the two-pic Phibes’ franchise – serving as
an unofficial third act.Truth be told,
only Vincent Price could manage to successfully pull off such sadistic and dark
malarkey as presented above.Price’s
reputation for playing gloomy, sinister characters with a sense of self-parodying
gallows-humor whimsy made him a perfect cast.
The early to mid-1970s may not have completely signaled
the end of old-school horror films, but it was the end of an era for those
players still carrying the torch.It was
primarily the British who kept the familiar tropes alive through the bloody, and
often Gothic, productions of Hammer, Amicus, Tigon and late-to-the game Tyburn.Though Hammer was reviled in the 1960s for
allowing Technicolor on-screen bloodletting, such crimson exploitation was
nothing to what was to follow.American
independents had already pushed the envelope to the extreme with such disturbing
drive-in fare as Wes Craven’s Last House
on the Left (1972) and Tobe Hooper’s The
Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974).
Overnight, the performances and films of such polished, academy
trained actors as Price, Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee were made antiquated
and unhip.Empty-headed teenagers were
the new principal players, and with the release of John Carpenter’s Halloween (1978), old-school horror was
relegated to the annals of film studies as a flood of imitations flooded movie
screens.While Vincent Price didn’t
disappear from movie-house screens, he was seen less often.You were more likely to catch Price on
television in a TV-movie, drama, situation comedy or as a guest on Hollywood Squares.Or, perhaps, you might have been fortunate
enough to catch the veteran actor trotting the boards in a traveling theatrical
production.
Price was, understandably, not a great fan of the
so-called “slasher” film genre.Such
disgruntlement was, no doubt, partly the result of a loss of big screen offers
and opportunities.Price considered the slasher
film “with all their blood and violence […] a different genre from the
wonderful Edgar Allan Poe films we used to make for Roger Corman.”In interviews from that period Price insisted
the recent trend on splashing explicit real-life violence onto the big screen
was a worrying trend.“When you have the
chain saw at the very beginning of the picture that knocks off about fifteen
people, where have you got to go?, he sighed to one journalist.“There’s no humor,” he continued.“They’ve just become too violent for me.”
There’s certainly no absence of humor – dark as it may be
- present in The Abominable Dr. Phibes
and Dr. Phibes Rises Again!.Price is directly responsible for innumerable
murders, most often in devilishly amusing methods.I feel that, in some manner of speaking, the
Phibes films had a measure of stylized influence on the slasher film
genre.The body counts left in the wake
of the subsequent slashers are, generally speaking, no greater nor less than
those in the Phibes or Theater of Blood
exercises.
In terms of thin plotting the Phibes and early slashers
are similar in construction.Both
substitute logic and a compelling storyline for a fast flowing series of voyeuristic
grim executions.The raison d’etre of both enterprises was to
deliver an entertaining, sadistic mix of idiosyncratic killings both inventive
and amusing.The big difference is that
a slate of seasoned actors are summarily dispatched in the Phibes films.In the slashers we tend to cheer on the fates
of the teenage-victims due to their visibly painful absence of acting skills.
In the Phibes films Vincent Price isn’t breaking new
ground.He’s merely diligently following
the established vengeful tradition of preceding movie ghouls.In the nineteen thirties and forties, Boris
Karloff and Bela Lugosi carried out all sorts of vendettas, nearly all the
result of some professional slight.Their targets, deserving or not, were always getting trapped behind
locked doors and no-escape rooms.This
was usually due to their tormentors having had their scientific research
purloined or reputations sullied.
There is one key difference between the old-school and
new-school horrors.Karloff and Lugosi
were crossed men with personalities - as anti-social and vengeful as those
personalities might be.Too many of the
slasher films, in my view anyway, featured successions of masked killers who killed
in cold, robotic-fashion.Often motivations
were not explained (or explained without satisfaction) until a movies’
end.The impersonality of such killings,
arguably, might have contributed to the mystery – as in a, “Why is this
happening?”But such detachment allowed for
too many of the best-remembered slashers to serve as little more than an assembly-line
cinematic abattoir.Which brings us back
to Dr. Phibes.
In The Abominable
Dr. Phibes, the titular character is not a medical doctor at all.A once-celebrated organist, Dr. Anton Phibes
(Vincent Price) holds a curious combination of PhDs in Musicology and
Theology.He uses his knowledge of the
latter to unleash a series of murders fashioned from ancient biblical curses.He unleashes his wrath on the medical team he
holds responsible for the April 1921 death of his wife Victoria Regina Phibes
(Caroline Munro, more or less).Drawing
the final curtains on those of he holds responsible, Phibes – with the
assistance of the mysterious and beautiful Vulnavia (Virginia North) -
methodically executes a series of Old Testament plagues as outlined in the Book
of Exodus.He grimly works his way to
his most loathed and final target, Chief of Surgeons Dr. Vesalius (Joseph
Cotton). Having planned the biblical killing of Vesalius’s son, the firstborn, Phibes
and Vesalius clash over the boy’s gurney in a tense, feverish confrontation at an
extravagant manor house on London’s Maldine Square.
While the casting of The
Abominable Dr. Phibes is perfect, it was an odd gamble that Price, the
film’s star player, was essentially given no interactive dialogue:the actor’s voice is only heard as a
filtered, somewhat robotic, voiceover throughout and even then only sparingly.Actress North, Phibes accessory-in-crime,
admitted to frustration when she read the script and learned her role too was
an unspeaking one. In July of 1971, North,
a former model, sighed to an Associated Press journalist, “I don’t know why
they don’t let me speak.” But she conceded “Not speaking is more sinister I
suppose.”It certainly was in Phibes
case, allowing Price’s disdain for his victims to be projected through his
sneering countenance.
One would have thought it we saw the last of The Abominable Dr. Phibes at that film’s
conclusion.But since American International
had raked in a not inconsiderable profit on investment, a Phibes resurrection
was quickly arranged.The first Phibes
film was often paired in cinema’s with A.I.P.’s Count Yorga, Vampire (1970), a modern-day spin on the old legend.Count
Yorga was very successful in in own right, spawning a sequel of its
own.That series success led to rumors
that A.I.P. might be grooming Yorga
star Robert Quarry as a potential horror film successor to the aging
Price.
What is obvious is that A.I.P. was interested in bringing
to the screen a collaboration of Price and Quarry.This was made plain in December of 1971 when
Louis M. “Deke” Heyward, A.I.P.’s Head of European Production, told reporters, “Bringing
the ‘abominable’ Phibes and the ‘insidious’ Yorga together was something that
just had to happen.The chemistry was too good to miss.”Heyward’s remarks were recorded as shooting
was getting underway at Elstree, the producer crowing, “It’s no secret that
when we were making the first ‘Phibes’ we were so sure we had a hit on our
hands that we took the trouble to shoot the opening scenes of the sequel that
was bound to come.”
Dr.
Phibes Rises Again! reunites several members of the original,
though North was out: Valli Kemp now filled the role of Price’s murderous
assistant.Peter Jeffrey is back as the
frustrated Scotland Yard detective who invariably arrives on the scene too late
to save anyone from their gruesome, if amusing, fates. Another horror icon, Peter Cushing, also appears in the film. As the U.S. and Western Europe was in the
throes of King Tut fever due to public interest in the touring display of
ancient Egyptian artifacts, co-screenwriters Fuest and Robert Blees moved the action
and ensuing mayhem from London to Egypt.
If not as satisfying as its predecessor, Dr. Phibes Rises Again!, is still great
fun.Yes, the sequel simply delivers
more of the same, but this is not necessarily a bad strategy as formula films
go.If anything, the film might be even
lighter in tone than the original, Price camping up the villainy to
preposterous proportions.Though teased
that a third film would follow – a script was commissioned – alas, the
cinematic run of Dr. Phibes was (excuse me) “Phinished.”
This two disc Kino Lorber Studio Classics Blu ray issue
of The Abominable Dr. Phibes and Dr. Phibes Rises Again! offers both films
in 1.85:1 widescreen and with 1920 x 1080p resolution and DTS-audio.The set offers no fewer than four isolated
audio commentary tracks.The primary
commentary comes directly from director Robert Fuest who shares his production
memories of The Abominable Dr. Phibes.Secondary commentaries on both The Abominable Dr. Phibes and Dr. Phibes Rises Again! come courtesy of
film historian Justin Humphreys, the author of The Dr. Phibes Companion (Bear Manor Media, 2018), the definitive
work on all things Phibesian.Video Watchdog’s Tim Lucas also shares thoughts
on Dr. Phibes Rises Again!. The set
rounds out with a collection of radio and television spots and theatrical
trailers.There’s also a colorful
slipcover for collectors and Phibes wonks, like myself, to fawn over.
If
any film can be called the quintessential film noir, it has to be Double
Indemnity. Even film noir scholar Eddie Muller, the go-to author and
historian who seems to appear in every supplemental feature attached to Blu-ray
and DVD disks of film noir titles, agrees.
Double
Indemnity,
directed by Billy Wilder and released in 1944, contains every cinematic trait
that is associated with film noir: cynical characters, a femme fatale,
betrayal, voice-over narration, witty dialogue, contrasting light and shadow,
German expressionism in the production design and camerawork, smoking,
drinking, murder, and an unhappy ending.
Based
on James M. Cain’s scandalous 1943 novel (but it was first serialized in Liberty
magazine in 1936), the picture was a challenge to the Hays Office censors,
for the Production Code was heavily enforced at the time. Several studios had attempted
to buy the rights in 1936, but the Hays Office warned producers that the novel
was a non-starter as a Hollywood production. Years later, just after the
separate publication of the book, Paramount tried again and this time, based on
a treatment by Billy Wilder and his writing partner Charles Brackett, they were
able to secure the rights.
Apparently,
Brackett felt the material was too seedy and left the project, so Wilder sought
out a new collaborator to pen the screenplay. Raymond Chandler landed the job,
and the resulting alliance was the stuff of Hollywood gossip and legend. The
two men couldn’t stand working together, but nevertheless the turmoil was the
necessary ingredient. The screenplay, nominated for an Academy Award, is
brilliant. What is especially notable is how the writers fooled the Hays Office
with it. The dialogue was full of innuendo that spelled out to an audience
exactly what was going on, even though no literal words were said that
indicated that two people were committing adultery. Wilder and Chandler
improved Cain’s dialogue in this manner, and it’s a delight to hear what comes
out of the mouths of Barbara Stanwyck, Fred MacMurray, and Edward G. Robinson
during the course of the picture. (Phyllis, responding to unsubtle advances:
“There’s a speed limit in this town.” Walter: “How fast was I going, officer?”)
Walter
Neff (MacMurray) is an insurance salesman who calls on the Dietrichson house to
renew an auto policy, but Mr. Dietrichson isn’t home. However, his wife,
Phyllis (Stanwyck) is. There is an immediate attraction and flirtation, which
leads to you-know-what. Phyllis eventually talks Walter into getting a life
insurance policy—with a double indemnity clause (it pays double for accidental
death)—for Phyllis’ husband, whom she can’t stand. Once Dietrichson (Tom
Powers) is tricked into signing the policy, the naughty couple set out to
murder him and make it look like an accident, and they succeed. Even Walter’s
canny boss, Barton Keyes (Robinson), who has a “little man” inside of him that
senses when something doesn’t add up, believes the story until he starts to
closely examine all the angles. Throw in Dietrichson’s grown daughter from a
previous marriage, Lola (Jean Heather), and now there’s an additional threat
that comes between Walter and Phyllis. Keyes gets closer to the truth, Walter
gets paranoid, Phyllis goes a little mad, and things heat up to a boiling
point.
The
acting, the direction, the script, the cinematography (by John F. Seitz), the
editing, and the music score (by Miklós Rózsa),
are all superb and were nominated for Oscars in each of these categories
(Stanwyck was up for Best Actress). Why MacMurray and Robinson were not also
nominated is a mystery worthy of Raymond Chandler! More significantly, Double
Indemnity confirmed Billy Wilder’s future in Hollywood as one of the great,
classic filmmakers.
The
picture has been issued on home video many times in all formats, including
Blu-ray. The Criterion Collection has now released two new editions—one in 4K
UHD and Blu-ray combo (three disks), and another in just Blu-ray (two disks). The
4K digital restoration is the best this reviewer has ever seen the movie. It’s
a flawless presentation with an uncompressed monaural soundtrack.
A
vintage audio commentary by Richard Schickel, ported over from previous
releases, is included. Supplements abound. A port-over vintage feature on film
noir (“Shadows of Suspense”) is welcome, but new extras produced by
Criterion are especially fun: an interview with film scholar Noah Isenberg
(editor of Billy Wilder on Assignment); and a lively conversation
between film historians Eddie Muller and Imogen Sara Smith. There are two radio
adaptations—from 1945 and 1950—both starring Stanwyck and MacMurray. The entire
second disk is a three-hour BBC documentary on Billy Wilder (originally on the Arena
program), directed by Volker Schlöndorff and Gisela
Grischow. The booklet comes with an essay by critic Angelica Jade Bastién.
Even
if you already own a previous release of Double Indemnity, the Criterion
Collection’s new editionis a must-have and worth the upgrade. For fans
of film noir, Billy Wilder, the three stars, and solid, edgy filmmaking
that raised eyebrows in 1944 and is still potent today. Highly recommended.
Following the success of Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho in 1960-61, there was – forgive
me – a “mad” rush to cash in on that film’s coattails. On one side of the pond,
U.S. based pastiches of Psycho would
come courtesy of Shlock-horror maestro William Castle.The gimmicky producer would rush out the
psychological-thriller Homicidal in
1961 and, a bit later - and more famously - with Joan Crawford in Straiht- Jacket (1964).In England, Hammer Film Productions, riding
high due to their reimagining of the classic “Universal” monsters, would likewise
bring to the screen four psych-thrillers of similar temperament: Paranoiac and Maniac in 1963, Hysteria
and Nightmare in 1965.
One of the connecting threads of this quartet of Hammer
efforts were that all scenarios had been dutifully scribed by their “house
writer” of sorts, Jimmy Sangster.In his
entertaining autobiography Do You Want it Good or
Tuesday? From Hammer Films to Hollywood: A Life in the Movies (Midnight Marquee Press,
2009), Sangster doesn’t dwell too long on any reminiscences of Nightmare, but offers he found making
the film “as being all fun.”Which, I
suppose, is a fair self-assessment.
Sangster’s
film (which he also produced) begins with a nightmare sequence, a young woman
walking frightened and apprehensive through the empty corridors of an insane
asylum.That woman, Janet (Jennie
Linden) enters the cell of a deranged woman who cackles and taunts menacingly.The girl awakens from her dream with a tortured
scream, scaring the living daylights out of her roommates at Hatcher’s School
for Young Ladies.One of her teachers at
the school, Miss Mary Lewis (Brenda Bruce) realizes this privileged girl is suffering
from some sort of nervous condition.She
accompanies her anxious student to Hightower, the tony mansion Janet is to
inherit when she comes of age.
The staff
at Hightower, particularly John (George A. Cooper) and Mrs. Gibbs (Irene
Richmond), seem fond of Janet, sympathetic and protective.In contrast, her guardian and executor of the
property Henry Baxter (David Knight) - as well as a new face at the mansion,
Grace Maddox (Moira Redmond) appear outwardly friendly… but there’s something
about the two that arouses one’s suspicions.We soon learn the disturbed mental patient Janet encounters in her
nightmares is her very own mother.It’s revealed
that on the day of her eleventh birthday, Janet witnessed the brutal stabbing
death of her father by the hand of her mother.
Though mom
would be subsequently sent to the local madhouse, the brutal memories of the
event have left Janet teetering on the verge of a nervous breakdown.The girl is haunted by the thought that her
mother’s insanity might prove to be an inherited trait.It’s not helpful to Janet’s mental condition that
each night at Hightower she’s visited by a ghostly figure with a scarred face
and white dressing gown.The ghost-woman
roams the hallways, her appearances always preceding an act of staged violence.It’s enough to drive a young girl crazy…
which is exactly what happens in due course.
So far, so
good.Unfortunately, the film’s
narrative structure takes an unwelcome turn in its second half.Just as Janet Leigh’s embezzling character
disappears – surprisingly - from Psycho
a mere twenty-minutes into the film, so does Janet from Nightmare. Unfortunately, while Robert Bloch and Hitchcock’s shocking
twist works perfectly in Psycho,
Sangster’s cinematic mimic simply does not.Once Janet is out of the picture Nightmare
is unable to sustain its tension or dramatic momentum.
With beleaguered
Janet out of the film, the movie loses not only its principal character but its
heart.The mystery of the ghostly
figure and subsequent deterioration of Janet’s mental state – the film’s two
most compelling elements – are simply abandoned midway through. There are really no surprises in what follows.The two characters we suspect from the
beginning as being ne’er-do-wells are, of course, the two who actually are.The only mystery left is whether or not the pair
will get away with their devious scheming.And that’s simply not all that exciting.
That’s not
to say there’s no value to Nightmare.As one might expect, director Freddie Francis
does a proper if workman-like job on the film.The movie offers many of the requisite elements expected of a thriller:
twisting doorknobs, tentative walks through long, shadowy corridors, eerie
bedside visitations from a mute, ghostly figure and frightened peeks from beneath
the shield of a folded blanket.
In a 2013 memoir
Francis recalled he was, for the most part, pleased with his work on Nightmare, believing he successfully managed
“to sustain the drama and the shock elements.”He would write Sangster’s “excellent script […] was a genuinely scary
mystery with of course a sting in the tail.” Author and Hammer historian Jonathan
Rigby seems to agree in part, rightfully pointing out that many of Sangster’s
psych-thrillers were thinly disguised “Gothic horror films in modern dress.”
Though Francis
was well-schooled in the art of cinematic horror, he would admit he was not
terribly enthused with the work of his detached cameraman Johnny Wilcox.But the director suggested the atmospherics
of the film’s interior photography were buoyed by his keeping “the edges and
corners dark thus giving the overall picture a claustrophobic and menacing
feel.”Released in April of 1964 as the
under-card of a double bill topped by Hammer’s The Evil of Frankenstein (also directed by Francis), Nightmare was met with mixed critical
reviews – a considered view shared by many fans of Hammer thrillers ‘til this
very day.
Scream
Factory promotes their release of Nightmare
as a “Collector’s Edition,” and one must say it certainly is that.There are a bevy of featurettes examining this
83 minute film from every conceivable angle.Kim Newman shares his thoughts during the near seventeen-minute study “Sleepless
Nights – Reflecting on a Nightmare of
a Movie.”Jonathan Rigby clocks a nearly
twenty-five minute rumination during his episode “Slice and Fright.If that’s not enough, there’s also “Reliving
the Nightmare: Interviews with
Actress Julie Samuel and More,” “Nightmare
in the Making,” “Jennie Linden Remembers,” and “Madhouse:Inside Hammer’s Nightmare.”If this bounty
of extra-features still leaves you dissatisfied – and I can’t imagine why it ever
would – there’s also an audio commentary supplied courtesy of film historian
Bruce Hallenbeck.To round things off,
we’re also gifted with the now expected theatrical trailer and a generous stills
gallery.
In some
respects, there’s perhaps too many
featurettes complimenting a medium-range film that runs less than an
hour-and-a-half.The general nuts and
bolts background stories regarding the conception and making of Nightmare are shared with repetition by the
usual gang of learned subjects – the trainspotting film scholars of British
horror.The inclusion of commentaries by
those who actually worked on the film partly offer a measure of balance,
sharing time-worn memories and occasionally intriguing glimpses of behind-the-scenes
moments.If the historians are somewhat
guilty of bombarding us with factoids and ruminations of context, footnotes and
filmographies, it’s all good, really.Let’s face it, this is the sort of minutiae we Hammer horror wonks live
for and have now come to expect.
It’s fair
to say that by the time you make it through all of this set’s special features
you will know more about Nightmare
than you ever thought possible.There
are discussions on the influence that such films as Psycho and Henri-Georges Clouzot’s Les Diaboliques (1955) had on Sangster’s work.It’s also suggested that the writer’s inspiration in scripting films
in the psyche-thriller genre went back even further than 1955, with nods to
such predecessors as Gaslight (1944) and
The Spiral Staircase (1946).
The
commentaries aren’t necessarily dry and academic.Hearing a bit of gossip is always fun.It’s interesting to learn of Sangster’s anguished
reaction when discovering his original script for Nightmare had been critically red penciled in its pre-production margins
by Hammer producer James Carreras.Then
again, Sangster’s screenplay for Nightmare
might have seemed a tad familiar to Carreras.It was in many ways reminiscent of the writer’s own scenario for an
earlier Hammer effort Scream of Fear
(1961).In any event, Sangster’s work
would prove to have long legs. The screenwriter would later sell the storyline
– and yet another reworking of the script - to producer Aaron Spelling for the ABC-TV
film A Taste of Evil (1971) featuring
Barbara Stanwyck.
Anyway, if you’ve read this review
this far in, you already know you want this.Aficionados of the horror, mystery, and thrillers of Hammer Films
Productions will properly celebrate this U.S. Blu-ray release of Nightmare – and well they should.Scream Factory offers a brand new 2K Scan
from an interpositive of the B&W film and the image is stunning, with only
the slightest and most unobtrusive white emulsion scratches slipping by now and
again.The film is offered here in 1080p
High-Definition Widescreen (2.35:1) with English DTS-HD master Audio and
removable English subtitles.This is an
essential film purchase for collectors of Hammer’s legacy films as well as for
fans of intelligently crafted psychological-thrillers in the Psycho and Les Diaboliques vein.But make no mistake about it, Nightmare is, at best, a middle-range Hammer
film.It’s neither a classic, nor an
embarrassment nor a cheap knock-off.It’s simply a passingly engaging thriller that sadly derails due to unsatisfying
and curious scripting issues.
It’s certainly great to see Chris' Soundtrack
Corner back on the pages of Cinema Retro. It’s been a little while, but rest
assured, Christian Riedrich and his team have been hard at work and it’s always
worth the wait.
CSC has released no less than three brand new
soundtracks, all of which are essentially their world premiere debuts. Sure, if
you deep long and hard enough you may discover an odd track or a popular main
title that has previously surfaced here and there or perhaps on some obscure
library compilation – but hey, good luck with that search, should you wish to
undertake it.
Across these three releases you will
certainly unearth a delightful range of styles and moods as well as sampling
various flavours of the exotic Mediterranean.
Daniele
Patucchi’s Il Sorriso Del Ragno (1971) (CSC 031)
sets us on our way rather nicely.
This rarely seen 1971 Italian film
(translated as, The Spider's Smile) was recognised more by its international
title, Web of Deception. It was the only film directed by Massimo Castellani, a
more established second unit director who had enjoyed greater success as a
script supervisor. Based on a script written by Italo Gasperini and Armando Morandi,
with dialogue by Fabio Piccioni, Il Sorriso Del Ragno, this is a crime thriller
disguised as a roaming travelogue. With locales ranging from France to multiple
regions of Greece, all of which was captured beautifully by cinematographer
Giorgio Tonti,– it was pretty much guaranteed that both cast and crew would
enjoy their opportunity in the sun- soaked regions.
The story involves private investigator Tony
Driscoll; a ladies' man perhaps, but he also has a good reputation when it involves recovering
stolen goods. So when thieves make off with $5 million in jewels from a French
bank, Driscoll is hired to get them back. However, certain questions point
fingers at Driscoll and the film’s plot makes the most of this twist up until
its conclusion.
A self-taught musician, composer Daniele
Patucchi was born in 1945 in Turin. By the time he began writing and performing
music professionally, he was adept in a wide range of styles, from jazz and
rock to classical and displayed a certain amount of flair when it came to digital
synthesizers – all of which served him well over 35 movie soundtrack scores.
His music for Il Sorriso Del Ragno is based around five central musical styles.
Three of them- Main, Suspense and Action themes- occupy the majority of the
score's structure and serve to enhance the adventure, tension, and intrigue as
the story unfolds. Additional musical motifs signify more regional themes and
local instrumentation. Acoustic guitar and Greek mandolin in particular feature
prominently and work to wonderful effect throughout.
Il Sorriso Del Ragno is really enjoyable little
score. There’s plenty of variation, but never too much. It never spills over
into a heavy clash of styles, and retains a comforting, common thread. Christian
Riedrich’s pin sharp production and remastering by Stefan Betke is what we have
come to expect. Only three tracks have been previously released. Additionally, five
tracks that were not used in the movie have been added as bonus tracks:
alternate or varied versions composed for the movie or re-edited for inclusion
on one of CAM's promotional library music albums. The CD includes a 12-page
illustrated booklet by Aletta Heinsohn and features detailed, exclusive notes
on the film and its score by film music journalist Randall D. Larson.
Chris' Soundtrack Corner’s second score
release is another by Daniele Patucchi, Sans
Sommation (1973) (CSC 032). This was a much harder hitting German-French-Italian
co-production (released in the UK as Without Appeal and Internationally as
Without Warning). Made by French director Bruno Gantillon, Sans Sommation was a
tougher, straight-shooting thriller which again presented composer Daniele
Patucchi the opportunity to demonstrate his diverse range of talents.
Maurice Ronet stars as Raoul Maury, a former Police
inspector who made a seriously bad career move when he attempted to take down
the son of a prominent politician on drug charges. As a result, Maury finds
himself demoted to the role of archivist in the police records department. When
it is discovered that Maury bears a striking resemblance to Lt. Kieffer, an
associate of wanted mercenary Pierre Capra, he is reinstated in order to
impersonate Kieffer in order to get close to Capra and assassinate him.
However, conflicting acts of suspicion and trust will all head for collision
and loyalties will become strained and tested to the full.
Patucchi's film compositions were plentiful
throughout the 1970s and '80s. Sans Sommation is one of more than 35 European
movie soundtracks he composed throughout the 1970s and '80s. His gift for
tuneful melodies served him well in this score. Its opening theme in particular
offers a dusty, smooth Jazz trumpet and for the first couple of tracks the ride
seems distinctly mellow and easy-going. But don’t get fooled, by the time
‘Elikiller’ kicks in we are on much tougher, off road territory and the bold,
brassy action cues are allowed to take full flight. There’s a good degree of
suspenseful tracks, too, that really build nicely along with some very cool
Hammond organ playing on display. The single central theme is a brisk,
high-energy, driving motif that continuously helps the score race forward.
The album is produced again by Christian
Riedrich and mastered this time by Manmade Mastering – all of which results in
a big, fully rounded sound. The main score consists of 12 tracks with 3 bonus
tracks included. The CD is accompanied by a 12-page illustrated booklet
designed by Aletta Heinsohn and featuring detailed, exclusive notes on the film
and its score by film music journalist Randall D. Larson, who deconstructs the
score's elements in deeper detail.
Finally, Ingrid
Sulla Strada (1973) (CSC 036 rounds up this excellent trilogy of scores and
sees a welcome release from composer Carlo Savina. Ingrid Sulla Strada is an Italian
psychological drama written and directed by Brunello Rondi. Rondi was arguably better known as a
script-writer and script consultant, a reputation which had lead him to several
collaborations with Federico Fellini. Rondi's directorial debut came more than
a decade earlier in 1961 with the film Una vita violenta (aka Violent Life). Rondi
went on to make a number of psychological/sexual dramas of which Ingrid Sulla
Strada was one of the last.
Ingrid Sulla Strada is a drama in which young
Ingrid (Swedish model and actress Janet Agren) leaves her home after being
raped by her father. After her arrival in Rome, Ingrid, with little option,
slips into prostitution. Life is not
easy for Ingrid and soon her life begins to spiral out of control and
eventually leads to her suicide. Ingrid Sulla Strada is not an easy film to
find, and the limited amount of footage revealed within the trailer tends to
suggest a rather bleak narrative and a Fellini- influenced style of filmmaking.
Ingrid Sulla Strada is without doubt an
eclectic score. At its heart, Savina provides a light, delicate melody which is
quite charming. And yet, the score’s overall soundscape doesn’t naturally
provide a standardised form or perhaps an obvious sense of continuity. There’s
certainly nothing wrong with Savina’s music, but the styles are so varied, one
could almost be excused for thinking certain cues could had been taken from
entirely different scores. As a collective it’s incredibly diverse and perhaps
reflects the up-and-down nature and psychological aspect of the story.
Regardless of its random style, it remains a fascinating listening experience.
Chris' Soundtrack Corner has completed an
excellent challenge in making this obscure title available for the first time.
Only the main theme and the pop organ track, ‘Walking through the falling
leaves’, have been previously released. Christian Riedrich has beautifully
produced the release, which certainly must have been a challenge. The result is
the release of an entirely engaging score. Consisting of 15 tracks and 2
additional bonus tracks, the CD comes with a 12-page illustrated booklet
designed by Tobias Kohlhaas and featuring detailed, exclusive notes by Randall
D. Larson.
A fine collection of European scores for
which everyone involved should be congratulated.
In the 1970s and 1980s director Brian De Palma had some high
profile hits with Hitchcockian thrillers such as "Sisters", "Obsession",
"Dressed to Kill", "Blow Out" and "Body Double". De Palma's defenders
extolled the virtues of these films as clever homages to Hitchcock while
detractors accused De Palma of using The Master's formulas to make a
fast buck. In 1982 director Robert Benton jumped on the same bandwagon
with his own Hitchcockian project, "Still of the Night", which was shot
under the title "Stab" before the marketing campaign had been
re-evaluated. A few years earlier Benton had triumphed at the Oscars
with "Kramer vs. Kramer", taking home the Best Director Oscar. That film
also provided an important career boost for Meryl Streep, who also won
an Oscar for Best Supporting Actress. The two were reunited for this
project which stands out on both of their credentials as an odd choice.
Chances are that when you think of Streep's exalted status in the film
community today, the thriller genre is unlikely to come to mind. (Though
she did also appear in "The River Wild" and the remake of "The
Manchurian Candidate".) Benton, who had directed relatively few films to
date, was more accustomed to the genre and perhaps his involvement with
this flawed production can be explained by the fact that the basis for
the story (which he collaborated on with David Newman) was a real life
experience that found him obsessed with a woman who simultaneously
excited and frightened him. Certainly it's a sold premise for a thriller
and through much of the movie Benton provides a compelling scenario
complimented by two excellent actors: Streep and Roy Scheider. The film
falls apart in the final act when it begins to resemble less of a homage
to Hitchcock than an homage to De Palma's homages to Hitchcock- with a
dose of "Play Misty for Me" thrown in (i.e knife wielding killer attacks
protagonist on a balcony that overlooks the churning sea.) It's not
that "Still of the Night" is bad (though Streep has gone on record as
saying it is), it's simply that it hardly seems like it would ever have
been compelling enough to attract two recent Oscar winners.
The film opens in the office of New York City psychiatrist Sam Rice
(Scheider). Like most cinematic headshrinkers, he appears to need
psychiatric care more than his patients do. He's going through the
miseries of a divorce and seems bored and depressed. The only
significant female relationship he has is with his mother (Jessica
Tandy, who perhaps not coincidentally starred in Hitchcock's "The
Birds".) Sam's mundane daily routine takes a dramatic turn when he
discovers that a long-time patient, businessman George Bynum (Josef
Sommer) has been found stabbed to death in his car on a Manhattan
street. From this point some key elements of the story are told in
flashback sequences. Sam remembers Bynum as a sexual predator who had
been having an affair with one of his staff workers. Then he meets
Brooke Reynolds (Streep), a gorgeous thirty-something blonde who seems
both alluring and vulnerable. Bynum confesses that he is obsessed with
her and cut off his previous affair in order to engage in one with
Brooke. Shortly after Bynum's death, Sam is shocked when Brooke appears
at his office, nervous, unsettled and chain-smoking. (Yes, you could
smoke in an office in those days.) In the awkward conversation that
follows she says the purpose of her visit is to return a wristwatch that
Bynum had accidentally left at her apartment. She doesn't want to
return it herself for fear of alerting Bynum's widow about the affair he
was having with her. From minute one Sam is smitten and intrigued by
this quirky, jittery- and stunningly beautiful- young woman. He also
realizes that her cover story about the watch is thin. She actually
wanted to meet him. Shortly thereafter Sam is visited by
Detective Joe Vitucci (Joe Grifasi, channeling every personality cliche
you can think of when it comes to a New York City cop). He asks Sam if
he can shed any light on who might be Bynum's killer. Sam informs him
that anything he had discussed with Bynum would be protected under
doctor/client privilege...but he also finds himself unable to inform
Vitucci about Bynum's affair with Brooke. He realizes he is now obsessed
with her, just as Bynum was. He strongly suspects that Brooke is
Bynum's murderer but can't get her out of his mind. Like Bynum, he's
simultaneously sexually stimulated and terrified of her. Nevertheless,
he begins finding excuses to see her and his presence seems to have a
calming effect on Brooke. The friendship goes to another stage when she
responds to his kiss but Sam is too lacking in self-confidence to
actually seduce her. Meanwhile he begins to experience some eerie
occurrences. He believes someone is stalking him in the basement of his
apartment building. As he follows the mysterious Brooke on a nighttime
walk through Central Park (a chilling scenario for anyone in those
days), he finds himself alone and so unnerved that when a man jumps out
of the shadows to mug him, he is actually relieved to have another human
being on the scene. Director Benton knows that a sure-fire way to
ratchet up suspense is to put the protagonist in a creepy dark house or
in an equally unnerving location. However he goes to the well with this
plot device a little too often. For a man who lives in the heart of
Manhattan, Sam seems to wind up repeatedly in eerie, isolated places.
However, some of the sequences are genuinely suspenseful as in the scene
in which Sam is in the laundry room of his apartment building, deep in
the bowels of the basement. No one is around. There is total isolation
when suddenly the lights in an adjoining room inexplicably go out. You
can share his sense of increasing panic as he knows someone is
stalking him...but who and why? Refrehingly, Scheider portrays Sam as an
everyday guy, not a tough-as-nails hero. He's vulnerable both
physically and emotionally throughout.
The film's primary asset is its two stars, both of whom give intense and
very convincing performances. There are also the usual plot twists and
red herrings one would expect to find in a movie of this genre and
Benton for the most part manages to wring some genuine suspense out of
it even when he resorts to old gimmicks that include a dream sequence in
which Bynum is menaced by an eerie little girl (are there any other
kinds of little girls in dream sequences?) It's straight out of "The
Shining" but then again just about everything in "Still of the Night"
seems recycled, even though it manages to be engrossing right up until
the climax when Benton the screenwriter resorts to every time-worn
cliche imaginable: an old dark house, a sacrificial lamb character, a
vulnerable hero, a knife-wielding maniac...you get the picture. About
all that is missing is John Carradine as a mad scientist. The weak
ending feels like it was tossed together at the last minute and doesn't
retain the suspense or logic that Benton has managed to build
heretofore. Nonetheless, "Still of the Night" is still worth a look if
only for the performances and those few genuinely spooky sequences.
WARNER
BROS. HOME ENTERTAINMENT ANNOUNCES THE BELOVED CLASSIC
SINGIN’ IN THE RAIN TO BE RELEASED ON 4K ULTRA HD BLU-RAY™
Acclaimed as one of the greatest MUSICAL films of all
time,
will BE AVAILABLE FOR THE
FIRST TIME IN 4K RESOLUTION WITH HIGH DYNAMIC RANGE (HDR)
BURBANK,
CA, – To celebrate the 70th anniversary of
the 1952 acclaimed and beloved film, Warner Bros. Home Entertainment announced
today that Singin’ In The Rain will be released on Ultra HD Blu-ray Combo
Pack and Digital on April 26.
Singin’
In The Rain is
widely considered to be one of the greatest musical films in cinematic history.
The musical romantic comedy was directed by choreographed
by Gene Kelly (On the Town) and Stanley
Donen (On the Town) and stars Kelly, Donald O’Connor, Debbie Reynolds, Jean
Hagen, Millard Mitchel and Cyd Charisse.
The film was written
by Adolph Green and Betty Comden and produced by Arthur Freed. The music is by
Nacio Herb Brown and the lyrics are by Arthur Freed.
In 1989, Singin' in the Rain was
one of the first 25 films selected by the United States Library of Congress for preservation in the National Film
Registry for
being "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant".The
film ranked 10th on AFI’s 100 Years…100 Movies list, 16th on AFI’s 100
Years…100 Laughs list, 16th on AFI’s 100 Years…100 Passions list, “Singin’ In
The Rain” was 3rd on AFI’s 100 Years…100 Songs list, and the film was number 1
on AFI’s Greatest Movie Musicals list.
Ultra HD*
showcases 4K resolution with High Dynamic Range (HDR) and a wider color
spectrum, offering consumers brighter, deeper, more lifelike colors for a home
entertainment viewing experience like never before.
In addition, the remastered film will screen at the TCM Film Festival on
April 24**. For more information, please
visit https://filmfestival.tcm.com.
TCM Big
Screen Classics will also present the 70th anniversary of Singin' In The
Rain in theaters this April in the US. Tickets are on sale now, go towww.FathomEvents.comfor more details.
Singin’
In The Rainwill be
available on Ultra HD Blu-ray Combo Pack for $24.99 SRP and features an Ultra
HD Blu-ray disc with the feature film in 4K with HDR and a Blu-ray disc of Singin’
In The Rain. Fans can also own Singin’ In The Rainin 4K Ultra HD via purchase from select
digital retailers beginning on April 26th.
Ultra HD Blu-ray and Blu-ray Elements
Singin’
In The Rain Blu-ray
contains the following previously released special features:
Commentary by Debbie
Reynold, Donald O’Connor, Cyd Charisse, Kathleen Freeman, Stanley Donen, Betty
Camden, Adolph Green, Bad Lurhmann and Rudy Behlmer.
Singin’ in the Rain: Raining on a New Generation
Documentary
Theatrical Trailer
DIGITAL
DISTRIBUTION ELEMENTS
On April 26, Singing In The Rain4K UHDwill be available to own for streaming and
download to watch anywhere in high definition and standard definition on
favorite devices from select digital retailers including GooglePlay, Vudu, Xbox
and others, and will be made available digitally on Video On Demand services
from cable and satellite providers, and on select gaming consoles.
RETRO-ACTIVE: THE BEST FROM THE CINEMA RETRO ARCHIVES
In honor of the esteemed actor Nehemiah Persoff, who recently passed away at age 102, we are running this interview originally conducted with Mr. Persoff in 2010 by the late writer Herb Shadrak.
Nehemiah Persoff: From Jerusalem to Hollywood and Beyond
By Herb Shadrak
Born in Jerusalem in 1919, Nehemiah Persoff went on to
become one of the busiest character actors in Hollywood. His face is familiar
to millions of boomers across North America from his numerous guest appearances
on just about every TV series that aired from the 1950s through the 1990s.
Persoff’s name may have been unfamiliar to many of these TV viewers, but his
face was instantly recognizable. Filmspot.com describes Persoff as a short, dark and stocky-framed actor who specialized in playing ethnic-type
villains, although he frequently essayed sympathetic roles as well. (Witness
his heartbreaking moments with Maria Schell in Voyage of the Damned.) Yet he excelled as gangland figures like
Johnny Torrio, mentor to Al Capone in
the 1959 biopic, or mobster Jake Greasy Thumbs Guzik, a recurring role on The Untouchables.
Persoff's childhood was poverty-stricken, but there was constant
singing, dancing and music in his home. He was a very creative and imaginative
youngster, who always visited the circus when it came to the Holy City. "There
was a large field in Jerusalem where the circus used to set up", Persoff
recalls. "It was a very small one-ring circus, but I loved it. Outside the circus
was an Arab with a box on a stand with peepholes in it, and he had a small
monkey on a chain with a hat. This was enough to make me stand there for hours
watching. One day, the Arab let me look through the peepholes. There I saw a
funny man with a derby and cane. He had a funny walk. It was Charlie Chaplin!
Little did I know that 20 years later I would meet that man face-to-face!"
Persoff found himself drawn to the cinema at an early age. "Two outdoor movie houses were opened on Zion Square: one was called Eden", he said. "It
had a circle of bulbs that would light up one after the other. I used to walk
down there barefoot and watch the cinema from a post on the street. From that
height I could see the top of the screen for free. I think the other outdoor
movie house was called Aviv. For its grand opening they showed Ben-Hur
with Ramon Novarro. There were pennants hung all over! I guess that was our
version of a Hollywood opening.I find that at age 88 my mind goes back to my early
childhood more and more. Jerusalem in the late twenties was a place like no
other. I cannot imagine a 10-year-old more attached to his birthplace than I
was. I was keenly aware of the love that people had for each other, the feeling
that we were all tied to the same cause. The pioneers came with nothing but
enthusiasm and a love for life and our native land. Their attitude was "to hell
with worldly goods, that's not what's important in our lives."
And yet Persoff's father, a silversmith and painter, felt he had no career
prospects in Palestine. So the young Persoff emigrated with his family to the
United States in 1929, just in time for the Stock Market Crash and the Great
Depression. Persoff spent several years working as an electrician on the New
York subway system, gradually taking an interest in acting in the 1940's.
"When I started acting, I was working in the subway and
there was a rule that subway workers were not allowed to have any other job"
Persoff remembers. "So on the program of the play, I used the name Nick Perry.
My reviews were great but no one knew it was me, so I got none of the glory.
After that I always used ˜Nehemiah Persoff".
After serving in the U.S. Army during World War II, Persoff started
seriously pursuing an acting career in the New York theatre. In 1947, Persoffs
big break came along, one that would lead to steady work in films and
television for the next 52 years.
"My friend (actor) Lou Gilbert told me that if I wanted to
audition for the Actors Studio, he would arrange it. I jumped at the chance.
Elia Kazan was one of the busiest directors around, and to study with him and
be in his pool of actors was every actor's dream. I was in summer stock playing
the lead role in George Bernard Shaw's The Devil's Disciple. I knew that
Kazan was with the Group Theatre along with writer Clifford Odets. I thought of
doing something from an Odets play but then reasoned that perhaps a more
classic approach might work better for me, so I did a monologue from Shaw. Two
weeks later, I received an invitation to come to the first meeting of the
Actors Studio. I took my seat on a bench and slowly looked around. There were
John Garfield, Marlon Brando, Karl Malden, Montgomery Clift, Kim Hunter and
Maureen Stapleton, among others. Kazan began to speak and told us his aim was
to create a group of actors who work as he does, who speak his language, and
that the people assembled in this room were the cream of the talent available.
This was heady stuff for a nearly starving young actor. I studied with Lee
Strasberg. He was brilliant and helped me find myself as an actor… I owe him
much. Among other scenes, I did a Noel Coward piece with Kim Stanley"
After the Actors Studio, Persoff never looked back. His film credits include Kazan's On the
Waterfront, The Harder They Fall (Humphrey
Bogart's last film), Alfred Hitchcock's The
Wrong Man, Never Steal Anything Small
(with James Cagney), Rene Clement's This
Angry Age (shot in Thailand), Green
Mansions (with Audrey Hepburn and Anthony Perkins), The Hook (with
Kirk Douglas), A Global Affair (with
Bob Hope), Ray Danton's frightfest Psychic
Killer, Barbra Streisand's Yentl and
Martin Scorsese's The Last Temptation of
Christ.
Persoff also guest starred on about 400 TV shows, including The Twilight
Zone (playing a Nazi U-Boat captain in the classic episode "Judgment
Night"!), Route 66, Ben Casey, Wagon
Train, Rawhide, Mr. Novak, Burke's Law, Honey West, Dan August, The High
Chapparal, The Big Valley, The Legend of Jesse James, The Wild Wild West, Gilligan's
Island, Hawaii Five-O, Tarzan, It Takes a Thief, Land of the Giants
and The Time Tunnel.
In the mid-1980s, Persoff began to pursue painting. Now retired from
acting, he devotes full time to this avocation he has always loved.
Cinema Retro spoke to
Persoff from his home in Cambria, California. (Continue to next page for interview)
The
major question that I have about Douglas Heyes’s Kitten with a Whip,
which opened in New York on Wednesday, November 4, 1964 on a double bill with Lance
Comfort’s Sing and Swing (1963) with David Hemmings at some theaters, is
this: where is the titular whip? We have the kitten, as embodied by the overly
beautiful Ann-Margret as “bad girl” Jody Dvorak, but there is no whip to be
found. Perhaps the “whip” is her personality? There certainly is an argument to
be made for that. Jody has just made a break from a juvenile detention center
but not before seriously wounding the head of the place who becomes
hospitalized. Outwitting the police, she breaks into the semi-upscale home of David
Stratton (John Forsyth), a stuffy, by-the-book political candidate hopeful twenty-three
years her senior whose wife and daughter are conveniently away in a scenario
determined to make him look very creepy. David discovers Jody asleep in his
daughter’s bedroom and many questions ensue along with his disdain for her
presence. He knows full well that people will talk should they find out he is
harboring a fugitive dripping with sex appeal. Desperate to get rid of Jody, he
appears to be uneasy about his own unchecked desire for her which she readily
picks up on. A series of embarrassing situations that could reveal Jody’s
presence in David’s house to his friends and family bring out David’s true
nature, especially when Jody’s three friends (a 1960’s “tough girl” and
cinema’s two cleanest male “goons”) force their way in to crash his homelife in
a chain of events that lead them all to Mexico and a tragic ending.
Ann-Margret
had already made a name for herself appearing in Frank Capra’s Pocket Full
of Miracles (1961), José Ferrer’s State Fair (1962), and George
Sidney’s Bye Bye Birdie (1963) and his Viva Las Vegas (1964) by
the time she filmed this black-and-white outing. She sheds her ingenue persona
with sex kitten ferocity in a tale (or tail) that was based upon the 1959 novel
of the same name. Kitten is a showcase for her considerable talents in a
performance that goes from sublime and demur to that of a fighting and snarling
hellcat. The dialog dances around the issues of promiscuity and infidelity the
way that it had to at that time, coming on the heels of Elia Kazan’s 1958 Baby
Doll and Stanley Kubrick’s 1962 Lolita (in the novel Jody and David
have sex, however that would have been a big screen no-no in 1964 something
that Alfred Hitchcock knew all too well). Kitten comes just a little
later than it probably should have, but it allows its star to alternate
emotions in a performance that fluctuates from naïve innocence to verbally
threatening David should he call the police on her. While we are not talking
about anything so overtly sexual as the onscreen coupling of Marlon Brando and
Maria Schneider in Bernardo Bertolucci’s infamous Last Tango in Paris
(1972), the film no doubt raised some eyebrows at the time.
The movie is now available as a Region-Free Blu-ray from ViaVision Entertainment’s
fine Imprint video label, with a
brand new and beautiful high definition transfer.. The extras are as follows:
A very informative and entertaining audio commentary by film critics Alexandra
Heller-Nicholas,
author of the 2021 book The Giallo Canvas: Art, Excess and Horror Cinema,
and Josh
Nelson. They
discuss how Baltimore filmmaker John Waters considers Kitten to be a
failed art film, and there is a discussion of how the movie was seen as the low
point of Ann-Margret’s career and how she struggled and came back gloriously in
Carnal Knowledge (1971), earning her first Academy Award nomination for
Best Supporting Actress in 1972 (losing out to Cloris Leachman in The Last
Picture Show). Her second nomination was for Best Actress in Tommy
(1975) in 1976 (losing out to Louise Fletcher in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s
Nest).
Faster,
Pussycat! Kill! Kill! is
the aptly titled piece narrated by Kat Ellinger that runs about 29 minutes and
is a commentary on how teenagers were not a force to be reckoned with until
they possessed their own spending power. Juvenile delinquency was looked upon
as an epidemic that required a response. Rock ‘n Roll and comic books were
considered catalysts for juvenile delinquency, along with trashy movies at the
drive-in that were filled with violence,
sex and songs. Think the Beach Party films, Rebel Without a Cause
(1955) and The Wild One (1957) as the type of fare desired by this new dollar-toting
demographic. The Blackboard Jungle (1955) dealt with inner city school
bullies and authority, while other films presented stories of redemption and
salvation – themes that permeate much of the later cinema of Martin Scorsese.
Ms. Ellinger also discusses Roger Corman’s 1957 outing Teenage Doll, a
film devoted to girls which was released during an era of exploitation films
featuring unknown actresses. Jack Hill’s Switchblade Sisters (1973) is
also discussed as a film wherein the women use their sexuality as a weapon of
aggression. She also mentions the Sukeban films of Japan, loosely translated to
“girl boss”, a sub-genre of cinema wherein women weaponize their sexuality to
get what they want. While this piece is very interesting, the music overshadows
the narrator at times. I wish that this was addressed prior to pressing of the
disc. There is also a look at the paperback books of the era, and Jody was at
one time going to be played by Brigitte Bardot. The film falls into the “Bad
Girl” subgenre of Juvenile Delinquent stories.
She
Reached for Evil: Dissecting Kitten with a Whip is a video essay that runs about 18
minutes on pulp author Wade Miller by author and film historian Andrew Nette
(2021).
There
is also a photo gallery of black and white stills from the film.
MST3000
rips on the film as a parody in 1994 and is a hoot to listen to.
Click Here to order from Amazon USA and ignore
Amazon’s caveat about regional encoding. This disc will play an any Blu-ray
player. Non-U.S. readers can order the film directly from Imprint by clicking here.
In
the early 1980s, Israeli cousins and co-producers Menahem Golan and Yoram
Globus – the men behind then-thriving outfit The Cannon Group – decided that
they would like to add an old-fashioned style horror film to their burgeoning
library of titles. They approached director Peter Walker, renowned for a slew
of successful exploitation pictures throughout the 1970s, suggesting he create
something for the likes of Bela Lugosi, Peter Lorre and Boris Karloff, blissfully
unaware the three actors were dead. Regardless, Walker took the baton and ran
with it, the result being 1983’s rather splendid House of the Long Shadows.
Probably
best remembered for assembling icons of horror cinema Peter Cushing,
Christopher Lee, Vincent Price and John Carradine under one roof, House of
the Long Shadows didn’t wow critics at the time and with hindsight it’s
easy to see why. Times had moved on since the relatively harmless monster
flicks of the 1930s and 40s and audiences were becoming accustomed to seeing
grisly fare such as Friday the 13th, Halloween and the
nerve-shredding remake of The Thing. Nevertheless, Cannon had requested
a throwback to those old movies and that’s what Walker delivered, being sure to
tick all the requisite clichéd boxes; an imposing house, creaking floorboards,
lightning storms, hidden tunnels, furtive sideways glances, locked doors to
attic rooms, and a series of murders that wouldn’t be out of place in And
Then There Were None were all present and correct.
After
he was initially approach by Golan and Globus, Walker had tried unsuccessfully
to acquire the rights to restage The Old Dark House. He then turned to
screenwriter Michael Armstrong, who conjured up a story based upon the 1913
novel “Seven Keys to Baldpate” by Earl Derr Biggers, playwright and creator of
Charlie Chan. Shooting took place on location at Rotherfield Park in East
Tisted (near Alton) in Hampshire.
The
plot is a simple one. An American novelist (Desi Arnaz, Jr) accepts a $20,000
bet from his publisher (Richard Todd) that challenges him to write a classic
chiller in one night. He travels to Wales and pitches up in a long-unoccupied
manor house at Bllyddpaetwr – pronounced Baldpate – convinced that the
surroundings will furnish him with the all the inspiration he needs.
Unfortunately,his attempts to get started are hindered by the arrival of an
assortment of mysterious visitors who, as the night progresses, are revealed to
have more in common first apparent.
The
aforementioned titans of terror aside, joining them on screen are Walker
regular Sheila Keith (who only ever got to play unpleasant characters, yet by
all accounts was the sweetest woman you could hope to meet), Julie Peasgood,
Richard Hunter, Louise English and (fleetingly) Norman Rossington. What a
fantastic cast, eh?
But
naturally enough the big draw is the four main stars. Lee is his usual reliably
imposing presence, commanding your attention every time he’s on screen. Cushing
turns in a particularly memorable performance; hobbled by an endearing speech
impediment – he can’t pronounce his Rs – his character also gets to deliver one
of the film’s best bits of dialogue as he melancholically explains why he’s
such a timid man. Price meanwhile gets the cream pf the blackly pithy lines (upon
discovering the body of a character who’s been strangled with piano wire he
remarks, deadpan, “They must have heard her singing.”). Carradine appears to
struggle a tad, occasionally not looking too sure where he is (he was in his
late 70s at the time this was made), but his performance is nothing to be
ashamed of and somehow that adds to the quirky charm of the piece.
With
a runtime of 121-minutes, it’s a bloated affair and could certainly have lost
several scenes in which characters wander around lost in the maze of tunnels;
it doesn’t make for tedious viewing as such, but they fail to move the story
along. All the same, as the climax approaches there are some nifty little
twists and at the end of the day it’s a pleasure to watch, if only to bask in the
fun that Cushing, Lee and Price evidently had making it.
Neglected
for years, House of the Long Shadows finally got to see a belated
release to DVD ten years ago andRegion A Blu-ray from Kino Lorber a few years back. Fans can now rejoice; it has been
spruced up for a Region 2 Blu-Ray release from Fabulous Films, including a host
of worthy supplements. The film itself has always suffered from a slight
murkiness, but here it looks better than ever it has and is accompanied by an
optional commentary track from Peter Walker and Derek Pykett. The standout
among the bonus inclusions is a feature-length documentary, “Return to House of
the Long Shadows”, originally shot and directed by Pykett – who clearly holds
the film in great esteem – in 2012. Running only 15-minues less than the movie
itself, much like that it might have benefited from a little judicious editing,
but it’s nonetheless an invaluable treasure trove of information and
reminiscences. Built around a revisit to Rotherfield Park by Walker, actress
Julie Peasgood (who barely seems to have aged a day) and cinematographer Norman
Langley, it boasts an impressive collection of additional interviews with
actors Desi Arnaz, Jr, Richard Hunter and Louise English, production designer
Michael Pickwoad, production manager Jeanne Ferber, writer Michael Armstrong,
camera operator John Simmons, costume designer Alan Flyng and composer Richard
Harvey. Additionally, there’s a separate 15-minute interview with Walker, a
short step-through gallery of stills and a trailer.