Cinema Retro recently caught up
with the editor of this fantastic new film poster book to talk movies and
poster collections.
CR: Where did you find all
these posters? Are they from several collections, are they yours, or are they
sourced from online collections?
Adam Newell: There are just over
1,000 posters in the book, and boy, do I wish they were all mine! That would be
an amazing collection to own. Alas, only a handful of them are mine, some are
from my co-authors, and many are from online collections (with a special tip of
the hat going to Mikhail Ilyin).
CR: Regarding the originals,
how does one go about finding posters like these, and how do you store and
protect them?
AN: Back in the day, hunting
down vintage movie posters was a question of going to specialist shops down
dusty back alleys, being on the (snail) mailing list of the right dealers, or
attending movie ephemera fairs. I remember the first time I visited the US, in
1992, finding a shop down a back street in Hollywood, which was stuffed to the
gills with amazing US one-sheets for movies going back decades. It was a real
kid/candy store moment, and I spent hours in there looking at posters I'd never
seen before, mostly for films I'd never heard of! (As a complete aside, I also
remember that day earwigging a long conversation
between the shop
owner and a customer who was agonising over whether to buy a piece of TV
history the shop had for sale: an original Batgirl cowl, as worn by Yvonne
Craig. The price tag was $3,000, and I think he ended up not buying it. I
daren't think what that thing might be worth today...)
These days of course,
the internet has changed all that. At any one time, tens of thousands of
original movie posters are for sale online, along with countless repros, if
it's just the art you want. Need a repro of the one-sheet for Devil's Express, starring the amazing
Warhawk Tanzania in a pair of yellow dungarees? eBay will oblige. When I looked
a few weeks back, there was even an original one-sheet from that movie, for a
mere twenty bucks! I wish I'd bought it now. Specialist shops and dealers are
still around of course, and are always worth checking with if you're after
something in particular, and then there are auction houses for the really
high-end stuff. If you have several million dollars to spare, you could build
up a nice collection of original 1930s horror movie posters: in recent years
there have been quite a few sales of 'the only known surviving copy' of
particular posters, from the Karloff Frankenstein,
for example.
As for storage and
protection, it's the same as for any paper-based collectable: avoid damp,
cigarette smoke, and too much direct sunlight. I always think the best way to
store a poster collection is to have one of those floor-standing
display/portfolios you can flip through, so they can at be at least partially
'on display' at all times. If you've got the wall space, then put as many up as
you can! Decent clip frames will allow you to easily 'rotate' what you have on
the wall at any one time. Otherwise, it's best if they can be stored flat or
rolled, rather than folded, even if they came folded in the first place.
CR: What advice would you have
for someone who wants to become a film poster collector?
AN: If you don't mind having a
repro, then even those million dollar posters can be found inexpensively
(though you should always beware of the quality: one of those semi-automated
eBay sellers will happily sell you a full size repro of a poster, taken from a
scan which is not nearly up to the task...). If you're looking to buy original
posters, then whenever you can, simply buy what you like, not what you think
you 'should' be buying as an investment or whatever. Certain genres, artists
and series (James Bond, for example) will always attract a premium price, and
are way out of reach for most collectors, but that
doesn't mean there
aren't plenty of other posters to go around. Foreign language posters can be
cheaper than their US/UK equivalent, and often have cooler art!
I
should say upfront that with a couple of notable exceptions I'm not a big fan
of John Carpenter's work. I wish I was, I really do (and I'll never give up on
him), but I'm just not. It strikes me that for every exceptional film he made –
Halloween, Escape from New York, The Thing – there’s a handful of distinctly
underwhelming offerings: They Live, Ghosts of Mars, The Fog, Prince of Darkness,
Village of the Damned, Body Bags, Escape from L.A., Vampires, In the Mouth of
Madness…the list goes on. I concede that many of these films are widely revered,
so would stress again that these are titles that have left me personally
feeling unfulfilled and I readily acknowledge that my opinions are those of a
minority. Assault on Precinct 13 (1976),
which as with many of his films, Carpenter wrote and scored as well as
directed, was his second theatrical feature following Dark Star two years
earlier, and for me it resides upstream of the mid-water between the few titles
I greatly admire and the regrettable majority that I deem to be
disappointments.
In
the aftermath of the slaying of some of their pack by the police, the
formidable Street Thunder gang swear a "Cholo" – a blood oath of
vengeance – decreeing that they'll bring war to the streets of Los Angeles.
Meanwhile Special Officer Starker (Charles Cyphers) is transporting three
prisoners between penitentiaries when one of them falls seriously ill. Starker
decides to locate a police station to get the trio into confinement whilst he
summons a doctor. Unfortunately, the nearest is in the process of being
decommissioned and relocated to a new site and is thusly staffed by bare bones
personnel, but the officer overseeing the closure, Lieutenant Ethan Bishop
(Austin Stoker), nevertheless agrees to let Starker use the holding cells. Then
Lawson (Martin West) – the father of a little girl murdered by the gang (and who
subsequently pursued the perpetrators, shooting one of the head honchos dead) –
stumbles in to Anderson in shock and seeking refuge. Armed to the teeth, dozens
of gang members converge on the premises to make Lawson pay for killing one of
their own.
Assault
on Precinct 13 was fashioned by Carpenter as a modern day western and with
traces of Howard Hawks' Rio Bravo coursing through its veins it's very much
that. Yet it's also impossible to ignore the aroma of George Romero's seminal The
Night of the Living Dead in its structure: a gathering of disparate characters,
the most intuitively improvisational of whom is portrayed by a black actor, are
holed up in an isolated location with little hope of help and where, despite
internal disputes, they're forced to put aside their differences and work
together to defend themselves from a relentless army of hostiles whose
merciless intent is to see them all dead.
Following
a few mildly engaging scenes which serve to establish the panoply of
characters, Carpenter reaches out and grabs his audience by the throat with a
suspenseful and shocking sequence revolving around a little girl who realises
she's been served the wrong flavour of ice cream. Thereafter the director
incrementally stokes the tension with the aid of time stamps that appear at
regular intervals in the corner of the screen and not only lend the proceedings
a documentary feel but ratchet up audience apprehension as the titular assault gets
ever closer.
Once
things kick off and the first wave of defenders has been taken out in a spray
of carnage it's pretty much high octane action through to the (slightly
anticlimactic) finish line. There are, however, some quieter moments
punctuating the mayhem and it's during these that Carpenter's excellent
characterisations are given room to breathe. Particularly enjoyable is the chemistry
and burgeoning mutual respect between lawman Bishop and felon Napoleon Wilson
(an impeccable Darwin Joston); come the end you can't help wishing these guys
could have taken off together on a new adventure. Also memorable in this
respect is Laurie Zimmer as an Anderson secretary who Wilson takes a shine to
and, once again, one is left wistfully musing that the relationship between
them might have been explored further.
One
particular standout scene during these welcome moments of quietude plays on the
innate human instinct for self-preservation; a character suggests that they
hand over Lawson to the gang in order to save their own skins, but Bishop nobly
refuses to be party to such an egregious undertaking.
Those
already mentioned aside, there are fine performances too from Tony Burton,
Charles Cyphers and Nancy Loomis (the latter two would be reunited as father
and daughter in the director's next big screen release, Halloween).
Supported
by a typically infectious Carpenter score – particularly its thrumming core
synth theme – Assault on Precinct 13 is a raw and intense low-budgeter, the
creativity of which obscures its budgetary constraints, and which has not only
improved with age but in 2005 spawned a starry (and unexpectedly decent)
reimagining.
Incidentally,
the film was shot as The Siege, its title changed at the behest of the
distributor in favour of something punchier. Although Assault on Precinct 13 is
arguably a better choice it's also a bit of a misnomer, since nowhere in the
film itself is there a "Precinct 13", let alone one that comes under
assault.
The
movie has been available on Blu-ray and DVD before, but its recent UK 40th anniversary
incarnation from Second Sight makes for an irresistibly double-dip-worthy
proposition. Aside from a pristine 2.35:1 ratio hi-def transfer from a newly
restored print the release includes some exceptional bonus goodies. On
both the individually available Blu-Ray and DVD, along with a terrific assembly
of interview material – Director John Carpenter, actors Austin Stoker and Nancy
Loomis, Art Director Tommy Lee Wallace (who also handled sound effects duties),
and Executive Producer Joseph Kaufman – there are two commentaries (from
Carpenter and Wallace), a trailer and some radio spots. Exclusive to the Blu-Ray
box set release are "Captain Voyeur" (a comical short black &
white student film written and directed by Carpenter in 1969), and a
partially-subtitled 2003 documentary entitled "Do You Remember Laurie
Zimmer?"; chronicling the extensive efforts by a French film crew to
locate the actress who retired from the business many years ago. It certainly
has “will they or won't they find her?†appeal, but rambles a little and would
have benefited from being pared down to half its 53-minute runtime. Also
exclusive to the box set are a selection of art cards and a CD pressing of
Carpenter's soundtrack.
Produced
by Anthony Bushell, who also co-directed (with Reginald Beck) and appears
on screen as a courtroom attorney, 1951's The Long Dark Hall opens with two
brutal, night-shrouded murders in rapid succession, priming the audience for
what promises to be a tasty serving of Brit-noir. Regrettably, with the
identity of the murderer openly revealed in the first scene and the wrong man
hastily arrested for the crime, it tailspins into a mediocre courtroom drama
with a crushingly dissatisfying denouement. Seldom has a film been quite so
severely undermined by such an incredulously vapid wrap-up, one so abrupt in
fact that you have to wonder if they misplaced the last dozen pages of the
script, forcing them to hastily improvise!
A
shadowy figure who considers himself ‘an instrument of justice’ and whose name
we never learn (Anthony Dawson) is stalking the streets of London murdering
showgirls. When Rose Mallory (Patricia Wayne) is found dead, the finger of
suspicion points to Arthur Groome (Rex Harrison), a respectable married man who
was having a troubled affair with her. Standing trial with only circumstantial
evidence to convict him, Groome's efforts to play down his relationship with
Rose make him look ever more guilty. Convinced of his innocence and prepared to
overlook his infidelity, Groome's wife Mary (Lilli Palmer) remains stoically at
his side throughout. But the murderer has another agenda and, finagling a
meeting with Mary outside the court one afternoon, he begins to worm his way
into her trust.
The
Long Dark Hall was scripted by Nunnally Johnson and W.E. Fairchild from an
Edgar Lustgarten novel, "A Case to Answer", its story relayed
through extended flashbacks as a writer researches material for his new book.
Structured as such, one could take issue with several blatant plot anomalies
born thereof, but the real problem is that in laying all its cards on the table
from the get go and failing to keep an ace up its sleeve, beyond the question
of how – or if – Groome will escape his predicament, in terms of suspense the
movie has nowhere to go. Which is a bit of a shame because there are some very
fine, committed performances on the show here. Rex Harrison imbues the
beleaguered Groome with sufficient enough self-reproach over the whole sorry
business that in spite of his flawed judgement one can't help but root for him;
this was an era when the crime of murder carried the death sentence, yet he blithely
continues to play economical with the truth. As good as Harrison is though,
it's Anthony Dawson who snares the most memorable scene in the film. Arriving
at the Groome residence in the midst of a thunderstorm and welcomed in by Mary,
his charming facade slips away and he makes unwelcome advances on her. Wreathed
in menace, the whole sequence is lit and shot to perfection. Dawson, whose best
films in a long career were those in which he portrayed shifty and despicable
rogues (Dr. No, Dial M for Murder, Curse of the Werewolf), was never more
intimidating on screen than he is in this scene. The ever-dependable Raymond
Huntley is on excellent form as the investigating officer and there are fairly
brief but memorable appearances by a boyish Michael Medwin and dear old Ballard
Berkeley (in another of his policeman turns, promoted this time round to
Superintendent). Also showcased here is the film debut of Jill Bennett, who
gets but a single line of dialogue before falling victim to Dawson's knife.
In
spite of its deficiencies, if one can forgive the painfully weak ending, The
Long Dark Hall makes for entertaining and undemanding enough post-Sunday-luncheon
fare. And if nothing else there's curiosity value to be found in the fact the
film represents one of the cruellest examples of art imitating life: When it
was being made Harrison and Palmer were husband and wife and no doubt still recovering
from the strain placed on their marriage by his fling a couple of years earlier
with actress Carol Landis, who’d committed suicide when the relationship hit
the rocks. Palmer supported Harrison throughout that whole ordeal. One imagines
it wasn't too difficult for Harrison to conjure up the desperately forlorn and
contrite expression on Groome's face as he stands in the dock.
The
film has been released on DVD in the UK as part of Network Distributing's
ongoing 'The British Film' collection. Presented in 1.37:1 ratio, it's a
nice transfer from the original film elements. The sole supplement is a short
gallery of international poster art and lobby cards.
Adapted fairly faithfully from Shaun Hutson's celebrated
novel of the same name, upon its release in 1988 director J.P. Simon’s Slugs slunk
comfortably into the subgenre of "nature gone crazy" frighteners
which over the years had found mankind besieged by worms, spiders, rats, ants,
frogs, bees and, er, rabbits (no, really!). And, just as the best of them had
it, Slugs’ beasties weren't of the common or garden kind, they were of the
supersized, extra squishy variety...with teeth…oh, and a taste for human flesh.
The inhabitants of a small American town – the site of a
former dumping ground for toxic waste – fall victim to a nightmarish contagion
of slugs and it's up to Council Health Inspector Mike Brady (Michael Garfield)
to sort it out. He quickly learns that not only are they deadly but that
they've contaminated the fresh water system. With the mutilated dead bodies of
townsfolk piling up and the authorities dismissing Brady's outlandish theories,
he turns to scientist John Foley (Santiago Alvarez) for help. Foley concocts an
efficacious amalgam of chemicals he believes will destroy them and the two men
set off to locate the slugs' breeding ground in the sewers.
J.P. Simon is better known to connoisseurs of terror cinema
as Spaniard Juan Piquer Simón, whose most notorious celluloid
offering was crazed 1982 slasher Pieces. Slugs sacrifices the
inherent sleaze factor of that film and doesn’t even attempt to match its
infamous ultra-gory effects. But what the two do share in common is
that the performances of the participants are uniformly risible and both films
are hampered by truly wretched dialogue, the mostly stilted delivery of which
only accentuates just how awful it is.
And yet, again as with Pieces, these frailties – if,
when attributed to a film with such a dubious pedigree as Slugs, they can
even be called frailties – add a welcome vein of unintentional humour.
Take, for example, this early dialogue exchange between
Brady and his wife when she draws his attention to some slugs in the flowerbeds
–
Him: Jesus Christ, those things are big!
Her: I told you they were big.
Him: Big? They're gigantic!!
He reaches down to touch one and recoils.
Him: Damned thing bit me!
Her: What kind of a slug bites someone?
Him: I don't know, but he's living in your garden!!
Slugs’ functionality as a "horror film" is
understandably subjective, being directly proportionate to one's feelings about
the titular gastropods. Let's face it, they aren't scary, or even intimidating
for that matter; never mind run, you could stroll away from them.
However, what most people do probably deem them to be is pretty repulsive. And
on that score Simón employs his cast of thousands to admirably
flesh-crawling effect.
Not the most beloved entry in Alfred Hitchcock's
cinematic oeuvre – by either audiences in general or the director himself –
1939's Jamaica Inn (based on a Daphne du Maurier novel first
published three years earlier) is nevertheless a serviceable enough piece of
drama, which perhaps finds its most ideal place nowadays as an undemanding
rainy Sunday afternoon programmer.
Following the death of her mother, Mary Yellen (Maureen
O'Hara) travels from Ireland to England intending to take up residence with her
relatives at their Cornish hostelry the Jamaica Inn. After an unexpected
detour, which on face value proves beneficial when she makes the acquaintance
of local squire and magistrate Sir Humphrey Pengallan (Charles Laughton), Mary
arrives at her destination to find her browbeaten Aunt Patience (Maria Ney)
living in fear of a tyrannical husband, the brutish Joss Merlyn (Leslie Banks).
It also transpires that the Inn is the refuge of a gang of cutthroats – of
which Merlyn is ringleader – who orchestrate shipwrecks along the
perilous coastline, murdering in cold blood any surviving crew and plundering
the cargo. When the gang set about lynching one of their own, James 'Jem'
Trehearne (Robert Newton), who's been lining his own pockets with the spoils,
Mary saves his life and together they flee into the night, eventually turning
to Pengallan for help. But Mary soon discovers neither Trehearne nor Pengallan
are what they first appear…
Extremist spoilerphobes who've not seen Jamaica Inn needn't
get too riled by the revelation that Pengallan is the film's principal
malefactor, since it's a card Hitchcock lays face up on the table very early in
the proceedings. Some might suggest too early, but the fun derived
from this stratagem is the discomfort that escalates as we the audience,
knowing he's a bad egg, watch our hero and heroine mistake him for a paragon of
virtue, erroneously placing their trust in the very man they’re trying to bring
down.
Its screenplay having been penned by Sidney Gilliat and
co-credited to Hitchcock’s secretary Joan Harrison, author Daphne du Maurier
was reputedly dissatisfied with the changes made to her novel, and indeed the
resulting picture as a whole. And in many respects Jamaica Inn doesn't
really feel like "An Alfred Hitchcock Film" at all, not only because
it was rare for him to tackle period drama but also due to the fact the
performances are so atypically theatrical, certainly more so than in any other
of his pictures that I can think of. The ripest ham of the bunch is
unquestionably Charles Laughton, who also co-produced and so held considerable
sway over the production – for example, he drafted in J.B. Priestley
to finesse his dialogue – and for my money the actor pitched his
performance completely wrong. What the story cries out for but desperately
lacks is a strong arch-villain and, where Pengallan ought to be a festering
pool of corruption and depravity, the conceited air, sly sideways glances,
snide smirking and ludicrously fashioned eyebrows that garnish Laughton's
portrayal, he's more pantomime rascal than anything even remotely threatening.
Which isn't to say there's nothing to enjoy about his performance. He
rapaciously chews on the scenery, shamelessly thieving one's attention every
time he's on screen – even when he's background in a shot – and his lascivious
designs on Mary are queasily unsettling. It's merely that, in the context of
this particular story, I consider the campy approach was misjudged.
Continuing with the subject of villainy, after the
initial, impressively discomfiting scenes in which it looks as if Merlyn is
going to be a despicable force to be reckoned with, the character is revealed
to be Pengallan's puppet and regrettably loses some of his edge; later on there
are even attempts to turn him into a figure of pity. Perhaps the most
interesting of the cutthroats is Emlyn Williams as Harry the Peddler, whose
soft whistling as he goes about his felonious work imbues him with quiet
menace, though he's sadly a tad underused.
On the plus side though, Maureen O'Hara is spirited and
ravishing as the heroine of the piece; one can hardly blame Pengallan for
wanting to truss her up and take her home! And those most familiar with Robert
Newton in his legendary performance as the bewhiskered Long John Silver in
Byron Haskin's 1950 take on Treasure Island may be as taken aback as
I at the youthful and slightly effeminate good looks the actor exhibits here,
however his performance is admirable.
Having stated that Jamaica Inn doesn't feel like
a Hitchcock film, there are still some nice ‘Hitchcockian’ flourishes in
evidence. Notable is a sequence in which Mary wakes beside a sleeping Jem and,
espying a savage blade lodged in the sand within reach of his hand, tries to
slip away without rousing him. All the same, the scenario isn't milked to its
full potential, at least not in the same way similar moments are so
nail-bitingly structured in the director's other works.
The
world-famous Pinewood Studios celebrates 80 years in the film business this
year and Penguin Books have published a luxurious large-format 376-page
hardback book to commemorate the fact. Loaded with interesting stories - from
the studio's beginnings to the latest 'Star Wars' offering under the Disney
banner - it's certainly an interesting ride along the way. All of your
favourites are here: the 'Carry On', James Bond, Superman and Batman series, as
well as photos galore - many I'd not seen before (although a few captions are
incorrect) - make for an easy read without getting too bogged down with
statistics. Nice to see industry insiders being interviewed, and there are
numerous quotes from the likes of Sir Roger Moore, Barbara Broccoli, Sir Ridley
Scott, Martin Campbell, Michael G. Wilson and Michael Grade, to name but a few.
Interestingly, now that Pinewood owns the 'other' famous British studio at
Shepperton, this gets coverage, too.
Author Bob McCabe mentions first visiting
the studio in 1977 (aged 10) and seeing the American cars scattered on the
backlot following the filming of 'Superman'. Well, I was there too, Bob -
although a tad older! For those of you, like me, who have been fortunate to
visit this wonderful 'film factory', then it is worthy of a place in your
library. For those of you who will probably never pass through its portals,
then it's an even a bigger treat. Oh, and Cinema Retro gets a credit in the 'sources
of research' section! 'Pinewood: The Story of an Iconic Studio' has a cover
price of £40.00., but is currently available from Amazon UK for the bargain
price of £26.00. Now that's what I call a great Christmas present.
The
first of only three films for which Peter Fonda took up residence in the
director's chair – the others being Idaho Transfer (1973) and Wanda Nevada
(1979) – unconventional western The Hired Hand (1971)is the jewel of the triad. A
couple of fleeting outbursts of violence aside, it's heavy on gentle drama and
light on shoot-'em-up action, as such more a thinking man’s western than one whose
white hats and blackguards are clearly defined from the outset and proceed to
serve up a profusion of rapid-fire gunfights with bounteous squirts of ketchup.
Following
an upsetting incident which prompts him to reflect on his life choices, drifter
Harry Collings (Peter Fonda) informs his travelling companions Arch Harris
(Warren Oates) and Dan Griffen (Robert Pratt) that he's decided to return home
to the wife and daughter he deserted six years earlier. Before they can part
ways Dan is shot by a man who claims he assaulted his wife, which alters Arch’s
plans; instead of riding out to the coast he accompanies Harry back to his
homestead where, unsurprisingly, they're met with some disdain by his wife
Hannah (Verna Bloom). She softens a little, however, and agrees to take on the
pair as hired hands. As time passes and the bonds of Harry and Hannah's
relationship strengthen, Arch begins to feel like a third wheel and announces
his intention to hit the trail, whereafter Harry finds himself faced with a deadly
situation that will test his loyalties to the zenith.
An
unequivocal critical success when it was released in 1971, it's a little perplexing
to learn that The Hired Hand passed broadly unacknowledged on the awards
circuit, not so much in respect of wins – there were none – but more in that it
received only 2 nominations; both were derived from critics' awards ceremonies
and both were for Warren Oates as ‘Best Supporting Actor’. In any event,
deserved as those nominations were, even though he was technically playing
second fiddle to Fonda, to pigeonhole Oates as the movie’s supporting actor
wasn’t exactly fair; he enjoys easily as much screen time as his co-star and,
due in part to Alan Sharp's elegant script, I'd suggest as characterisation
goes Arch Harris is far more interesting than his phlegmatic comrade and Oates
gets to overshadow Fonda in every respect. High Plains Drifter's Verna Bloom
also gives a memorable performance as the slightly dowdy yet subtly sensual Hannah
Collings, outwardly toughened by circumstance but warm and caring beneath. Meanwhile
Severn Darden, perhaps best remembered as Conquest of the Planet of the Apes’
baddie Kolp (a role he reprised in Battle for...), makes for a splendid if underused
malefactor; he’s so deliciously venomous that one hankers to see more of
him.
The
picture was beautifully shot by Vilmos Zsigmond (later Oscar-winner for his cinematography
on Close Encounters of the Third Kind), with a profusion of freeze-frame transition
dissolves and exquisite chocolate-box sunsets that are joyous to behold. Folk
musician Bruce Langhorne's debut film score is evocative of the very essence of
western movies and his banjo-driven opener is nothing if not a triumphant
earworm.
Following
his success as star and co-writer on Easy Rider, Peter Fonda was in a position
to do whatever he wanted; that his directorial debut should birth The Hired
Hand – a film so accomplished, with such genuine depth of emotion and richness
of character – shows the measure of the man’s talent and one might lament that
opportunities to expand on it were to subsequently prove so scant. The aforementioned
deficit of action means it probably won't be to everyone's taste, especially
those seeking a more traditional western. But those who enjoy a thoughtful,
leisurely-paced tale of the Unforgiven ilk are likely to feel well rewarded.
Admirers
of The Hired Hand should be thoroughly delighted by Arrow Academy's dual format
Blu-Ray/DVD package. The movie is presented in 1.85:1 aspect ratio with 1.0
mono sound and certainly looks better than it ever has. Peter Fonda provides a
feature accompanying commentary and the plentiful supplements comprise a
59-minute in-depth documentary from 2003 (which includes interviews with Fonda,
Verna Bloom, Vilmos Zsigmond and Bruce Langhorne), a second documentary from
1978 (which runs 52-minutes and focuses on a trio of Scottish screenwriters,
the pertinent one being Alan Sharp), a 2-minute to-camera piece in which Martin
Scorsese enthuses about the film, five deleted scenes (presented 4:3, with a
combined runtime of around 20-minutes, one of which features Larry Hagman and
places a different slant on Arch’s reasons for upping sticks and departing the
Collings ranch), an alternate edit of the finale, a 1971 audio recording of
Fonda and Warren Oates at the NFT, a generous selection of trailers, radio and
TV spots, and a stills gallery. The release also benefits from the now standard
(for Arrow’s releases) reversible sleeve art and souvenir booklet.
Director Joe Dante's 1993 comic-drama Matinee is a loving ode to the monster movies that enthralled him during
his youth. Equally it's a Valentine to film producer William Castle, without
whose uniquely innovative approach to film exhibition a generation of
moviegoers would have been denied such wonders as ‘Emergo’ (for The House on Haunted Hill), ‘Percepto’
(for The Tingler) and ‘Illusion-O’
(for Thirteen Ghosts).
During the fraught two- week period of the Cuban
Missile Crisis in October 1962, brothers Gene (Simon Fenton) and Dennis (Jesse
Lee) are thrilled to learn that not only is new horror picture Mant! getting a sneak preview at their
local movie emporium the Key West Strand, but that the screening is going to be
attended by showman extraordinaire Lawrence Woolsey (John Goodman), who's
planning to test run his newest attraction, ‘Atomo Vision’. Woolsey is a
second-rate producer of third-rate pictures who peddles his wares on the back
of gimmickry, and he rigs out the Strand with all manner of electronic wizardry
to optimise the viewing experience, much to the chagrin of its unimpressed
manager (Robert Picardo). But as the evening of the big show approaches so the
threat of nuclear annihilation heats up...
For those who enjoy such things – and I certainly do – the
setting of Matinee in a cinema makes for
an unparalleled nostalgia trip, Gene and Dennis’s wide-eyed enthusiasm for movies
provoking heady memories of the sheer excitement of those childhood trips to
the pictures, brimming with barely restrained anticipation for what might emerge
from the shaft of light beaming out over my head. Certainly anyone with a
fondness for old sci-fi and horror titles, particularly the vast catalogue that
emerged during the 1950s, should get a thrill out of the ambience that Dante conjures
up; just look at the gorgeous period decor of The Strand, its walls a haven of
gorgeous movie art, its facade bedecked with splashy posters and stills...not
to mention the two enormous rubber ant
legs extending out over the marquee. A snapshot of a joyous era of
showmanship sadly long since dispensed with.
And then, of course, there's Mant! itself, a fun homage to the very best (and worst) of those sci-fi/horror
clunkers and a recognisable hybrid of Them!
and The Fly. Dante, a dyed in the
wool monster movie buff himself, treats us to several extended scenes of this
film-within-a-film, which concerns Bill, a man who has an unfortunate reaction
to a dental x-ray and thereafter metamorphoses into a giant ant. The dialogue,
delivered with deliciously straight-faced sincerity, is very funny indeed, for
example this line from Kevin McCarthy as a military General loud-hailing the mammoth
insect scaling a tower block: "Bill…come down off that building – we've
got sugar for you!" Supported by a typically euphonious and playful score
from the always reliable Jerry Goldsmith, Matinee
may not be Dante at his best – for that I would point to Gremlins or Innerspace,
or more recently Burying the Ex – but
it's certainly Dante given reign to express his passion for a cinematic genre so
dear to his heart.
Arrow has issued Matinee
on a dual format Blu-ray/DVD release in the UK. The 1.85:1 ratio image is very
nice with only a couple of scenes bearing particularly noticeable grain.
Supplements are bountiful, the highlight for this writer being the
feature-length version of Mant!
itself, seen teasingly in interrupted chunks during Matinee; okay, so it runs for just 16-minutes, but it's
easily as much fun as the old films to which it pays tribute and there's even a
mock, distinctly Castle-esque trailer for it dropped in for good measure.
Additionally we get interviews with Joe Dante, cinematographer John Hora and
editor Marshall Harvey, a piece concerning some of the director’s stock players
(Robert Picardo, Archie Hahn, Belinda Balaski, John Sayles and, of course,
Dick Miller – hey, what would such a featurette be without input from him?), deleted and extended sequences,
some behind-the-scenes footage, a vintage electronic press kit (how antiquated
those once revolutionary, pre-Internet promotional packages look 20+ years
on!), and a theatrical trailer. The disc comes housed in a reversible sleeve,
offering fans a choice of original or newly commissioned art, and it’s also
accompanied by a collectible booklet.
This film comes across as something of a
vanity project for Pacino, part documentary, part dramatisation of Shakespeare's Richard III, in an attempt to explore, understand and
represent the play to the common man. The film and its aims are ambitious perhaps and in great danger of hilarious
and actorly self parody in places ("It has always been a dream of mine to
communicate how I feel about Shakespeare to other people") . Although overall Pacino's film is a little confused
about what it's exact aims are, it does capture some entertaining aspects of
the creative acting and directing process.
Pacino's sincere passion for Richard III, his
earnest attempts to analyse it and make it relevant are admirable; the play is
complex and interwoven, full of scheming politics, intrigue and backstabbing. He tackles head on a number of issues
including the difficulties American actors and audiences face with the language
of Shakespeare, their overly reverential attitude toward the text (which Derek
Jacobi points out is the main stumbling block for American actors) and the fact
that the average man-on-the-street honestly just finds Shakespeare a bit
boring, amusingly illustrated in a number of vox-pops from the streets of New
York.
The film features an impressive cast,
including performances from and interviews with Kevin Spacey, Alec Baldwin,
John Gielgud, Derek Jacobi, Kenneth Branagh, Vanessa Redgrave, James Earl
Jones, Winona Ryder, Kevin Kline, and a host of other recognisable faces; therefore,
the fly-on-the-wall documentary aspects are often the most gripping. There are some genuinely heated moments of
round-table rehearsals, revealing in terms of talent, dedication and
understanding of actors of their own art. Notable, amongst others, are Penelope Allen (Herself / Queen Elizabeth),
expressing sheer passionate outrage in a clear understanding of her character's
complexities and Alec Baldwin (Himself / Duke of Clarence) who seems drop
effortlessly and convincingly into inhabiting his character in a most understated
manner one moment, and the next making jokes between takes about being paid in
donuts. Pacino has clearly made a
directorial decision to rely on close-ups and screen actors in efforts to avoid
stagey British theatrical traditions, allowing actors to quietly and intimately
inhabit their characters, creating a more uniquely American approach to
Shakespeare.
Nonetheless, Pacino's sheer intensity and
commitment to the process of this do lead to some truly ridiculous actorly
moments here, worthy of a Christopher Guest-style parody. For example, Pacino's plan for casting is simply
to get a bunch of (famous) actors in a room with copies of the play, let people
randomly start reading out whatever parts they feel drawn to, with his intent
that "the role and the actor will merge... and hopefully the casting will
get done by itself, one way or another. Cut immediately to: room full of extremely confused actors arguing about
who's reading what part. In another
behind-the-scenes moment, Pacino's co-director attempts to explain iambic
pentameter to him; pontificating that it is "like an anteater, very high
in the back and short front legs...", leaving a bewildered Pacino
shrugging to camera. In fact, Pacino
seems unafraid to portray himself as perhaps not the most astute or perceptive
amongst his peers, admittedly finding the play "very confusing" and
full of "fancy words", expressing wide-eyed awe at Kevin Spacey's
clear understanding of the play: "You're a pretty smart guy".
The constant cutting of the film between
behind the scenes rehearsal and documentary exposition with more filmic dramatised
scenes of the play does not help with clarity for the viewer, however. The
point isn't always clear, and some of Shakespeare's text, in scenes taken out
of context at least, is not always easy to follow, plus it becomes increasingly
unclear what type of film Pacino is trying to make here. At times, it seems a lighthearted parody film
about attitudes toward Shakespeare; Kevin Kline tells a story of his earliest
memories of Richard III, having attended the play with his girlfriend: "we
made out in the back row and left in the intermission." At other times this is a documentary about American
actors struggling to understand Shakespearian motives; John Gielgud, upon being
asked why Americans find this difficult, replies, without irony: "Perhaps
they don't go to picture galleries and read books as much as we do." It becomes even less clear with what purpose
the film-within-the-film (of the cast in re-enacting Richard III in full period
costume and setting) is being made, particularly as it is filmed using the same
close-up documentary-style roving camerawork as for behind-the-scenes sections;
there is no clear visual distinction for the audience as to whether this is
rehearsal, play or final film.
With regards to the disc itself, the screener
DVD copy available at time of review had no menu screen, artwork or extras, so
it is difficult to comment on the finished article, although a recently added
commentary would be a fascinating and welcome addition. The transfer itself could have been better
also; the overall volume level seemed very quiet in comparison to most discs,
and the contrast in terms of both colour and shadows was a little washed out
and grainy.
This film is a bold attempt to grapple with a
number of issues, whilst trying to do justice to the play itself, perhaps
trying to do too many different things. It is a shame that the film increasingly focuses on dramatised film-within-a-film
scenes when it is the behind-the-scenes documentary struggle that really
provides the most fascinating aspects here. In fact, in true Shakespearian fashion, the wisest and most
heartbreaking words of the entire film come from the mouth of a homeless,
toothless, beggar interviewed ad-hoc in the streets of New York: "...if we
think words are things, and we have no feelings in our words...it doesn't mean
anything. But if we felt what we said,
we'd say less and mean more. [wanders
away from camera to a passerby] Spare some change?"
Can
it really be 25 years since the release of The
Commitments? An acclaimed hit with audiences and critics alike when first
seen, it quickly grew in stature into something of a modern classic and has
remained perennially popular ever since. It has also inspired touring bands, a
major stage production and a few million sub-standard karaoke renditions of the
iconic Mustang Sally (and other
ditties) in pubs up and down the land.
Unemployed
Jimmy Rabbitte (Robert Arkins) dreams of being a band manager, and places an ad
in the local paper – “Have you got soul? If so the world’s hardest working band
is looking for you.†Various losers, opportunists and drop-outs turn up at his
door to audition, but bit by bit he manages to put together an inexperienced
band comprising ten members: men, women, backing singers, guitarists,
saxophonists, a drummer and an unlikely lead vocalist in the shape of slobbish
Deco (Andrew Strong). Their specialty is soul music and, with Jimmy’s undimmed
enthusiasm driving them (“say it once, say it loud: I'm black and I'm proudâ€)
they begin rehearsing for their debut gig. The name of the band: The
Commitments.
Tensions
run amok among the band members, but despite their off-stage bickering they
prove surprisingly terrific on-stage.
Around Dublin their reputation grows and they find themselves on the verge of
greatness, receiving glowing reviews in the local press and growing
word-of-mouth hype. On the night of their biggest gig, saxophonist Joey ‘The Lips’
Fagan (Johnny Murphy) assures the band he has arranged for soul and R&B
legend Wilson Pickett to join them on-stage after performing his sell-out gig
in Dublin. By this point, the bands’ internal politics are at breaking point.
Can they keep their tempers at bay long enough to hit the big-time, or will
this show mark the final curtain for The Commitments?
Director
Alan Parker does a wonderful job, creating a hilarious view of working class
Dublin. He doesn’t shy away from the bleaker, grittier elements, showing
rundown shacks used as shops in the middle of a ramshackle housing estate,
drunken pub brawls, foul-mouthed street altercations, dreary living conditions,
garbage piled high, and people bickering about sex and music through their
unremittingly glum, booze-drenched days. There is nothing glamorous about the
film: it is a feel-good movie in some
ways, but there is equally a feel-bad vibe running beneath it all at the same
time.
The
band is thrown together from an advert in a local paper, with potential talents
auditioning in Jimmy’s cluttered front room, or even out on the street, while
he watches from an armchair or even from the bath-tub with his shower cap on.
Parker’s characters use words like ‘fuck’ or ‘shit’ as regularly as they use
basic determiners and nouns, yet he somehow invests them with love and warmth
and makes them people worth rooting for. Over his career, Parker worked on a
number of successful musicals including Bugsy
Malone (1976), Fame (1980) and Evita (1996). Critics have drawn parallels
between The Commitments and Fame, citing this as an Irish
counterpart. Although Parker is a great director, it is surprising to note he
only has 19 directing credits to his name. With him, it’s all about quality not
quantity: he has proven himself a brilliant director across numerous genres
with films such as Midnight Express
(1978), Shoot The Moon (1982), Mississippi Burning (1988), Angela’s Ashes (1999) and The Life of David Gale (2003). Parker
shows up briefly in a Hitchcock-style cameo as a producer at Eejit Records, the
label which shows interest in signing the band.
Dead-End
Drive-In was shot in Sydney, Australia in 1986 by English-born Brian
Trenchard-Smith. One of the most significant sparks in Ozploitation cinema
during the 70s and 80s, the director’s renown stems predominantly from his
knack for turning relatively scant budgets into expensive looking pictures with
sharp teeth and blistering attitude. Set in the (then) near future – which is now
some quarter of a century in the past – the film ushers its audience into the
midst of a society that's gone to hell in a handcart; the economy has collapsed,
food is in short supply, unemployment is rife...the latest movie blockbuster is
Sylvester Stallone's Rambo 8: Rambo Takes
Russia! Welcome to a garish neon-lit nightmare, awash with Day-Glo
graffiti, where looters and violent wastrels rule the night, cruising in
souped-up stock cars, exploiting the impotence of the authorities and leaving a
trail of mayhem and destruction in their wake.
One evening Jimmy 'Crabs’
Rossinni (Ned Manning) takes his girlfriend Carmen (Natalie McCurry) to a movie
at the local Star Drive-In theatre. Claiming to be unemployed at the gate in
order to score tickets on the cheap proves to be a big mistake. While Jimmy and
Carmen are making out on the back seat of the car, someone absconds with a
couple of their wheels and they find themselves stuck there for the night. With
the dawn comes the revelation of the establishment's true purpose and the awful
realisation of the gravity of their situation; they have been deliberately confined
in an electric-fence-ringed prison, a hovel where the Government incarcerates
the unemployed populace. Patrolled by police, it's practically a self-contained
township where the inmates are supplied with copious junk food, beer and music
and are thus more than content to stay put, captivity being a preferable
alternative to the starvation and certain death they’d face out on the streets.
Carmen, having fled her home and being something of a loner by nature,
immediately begins to fit in. But Jimmy is determined to escape, no matter the
cost.
Tautly directed by
Trenchard-Smith from a Peter Smalley script, fans of vehicular mayhem are
certainly well catered for with Dead-End
Drive-In, especially during an 11th hour chase around the Star’s parking
lot and a spectacular climactic stunt; one imagines that a fair old chunk of
the budget was expended on that alone. But although it all ends on a note of
hope and a truly grand amen, the movie as a whole makes for pretty bleak
viewing (which, to be fair, is a common denominator in most films that envisage
a dystopian future). With its cast of bizarre and feral characters and distinctive
lensed-in-the-80s vibe, Dead-End Drive-In
sits comfortably alongside the era’s top end Troma product (which, I hasten to
add, is intended as a compliment), and there's some amusement to be had in that
the films beaming out of the Star's projection bunker include a couple of
Trenchard-Smith's earlier Ozploitationers, 1982's Turkey Shoot and (this writer's pick from the director’s CV) the cracking
1975 actioner The Man from Hong Kong.
Ned Manning doesn't make for
the likeliest hero figure, yet although he’s scrawny to the point that even his
mother puts him down, he ably steps up to the plate when the moment comes. As
his girlfriend Carmen, Natalie McCurry is gorgeousness incarnate; crowned Miss
Australia in 1989, the actress tragically passed away in 2014 at the age of
just 48. The real scene stealer here, however, is smooth-talking Peter Whitford
as the Star's sly manager, Thompson, who befriends Jimmy but ultimately turns
out to be far from the amiable soul he first appears.
Light on narrative
development but heavy on sleazy atmosphere and flashy action, viewers who like
their post-apocalyptic movies rough around the edges and teeming with
quirkiness are sure to get a rapid-fire buzz from Dead End Drive-In.
The film arrives on Blu-ray
in the UK from Arrow and it’s a worthy upgrade of their DVD release, which appeared
three years ago. A brand new 2K restoration using the original film elements, the
transfer is very impressive indeed with only occasional traces of vertical
scratching in evidence. The deal sweeteners comprise a commentary from the
always interesting Trenchard-Smith, the director’s 1973 TV documentary “The Stuntmenâ€
(49m), his disturbing 1978 public information film about the dangers of hospital
patients sneaking an illicit cigarette – “Hospitals Don't Burn Down†(24m) –
plus an original release trailer and a short gallery of still images (intercut
with textual information) depicting graffiti art created for the film by
Vladimir Cherepanoff.
Writer Derek Pykett (whose excellent book " MGM
British Studios: Hollywood in Borehamwood" was
reviewed here earlier this year) has turned his hand to directing; setting up
and playing host to a dozen intimate interviews with some of Britain's
most respected and beloved thesps, the results are now available on DVD with
"From Stage to Screen", a privately produced, limited edition 6-disc
box set.
With each performer given their own ‘episode’ and a total running
time of 15 hours, there's so much material here that it'll take the average
viewer a number of sittings to get through it all. Beyond starting with disc
one and working through methodically, where one begins is probably going to be
proportionate to the level of esteem in which the viewer holds each particular
actor or actress represented within the set; I confess that at the time of
writing I still have a fair bit to get through. However, I've adopted the
latter approach and, being a 007 fan, I zeroed in first on the hour devoted to
Julian Glover (who played villain Ari Kristatos in For Your Eyes Only), following up with Where Eagles Dare's charmingly poisonous Major Von Hapen, Derren
Nesbitt, and The Elephant Man's
outright wicked showmaster Bytes, Freddie Jones.
Also included in this collection – which could potentially be the
first of a series – are Michael Medwin, Shirley Ann Field, Michael Craig,
Michael Jayston, Joss Ackland, Roy Dotrice, Vera Day, Lee Montague and Sarah
Miles.
The episodes are supplemented with a selection of trailers
representing each interviewee's most renowned films. All the participants
regale the viewer with some marvellous and often amusing anecdotes, and it's
pleasant to be reminded of just how much they have actually achieved over the
decades, as well as some of the iconic figures they've worked with. Even though
the interviews average out at a little over an hour apiece, so extensive are
the careers under discussion that there's plenty of gold still to be mined and
one is definitely left with a thirst for more (for example, the aforementioned
Glover interview – disappointingly, given my passion for Bond – touches only
very briefly on For Your Eyes Only).
Although, being as it’s a documentary, the set is exempt from
classification, potential purchasers should be warned that there's a smattering
of fruity language throughout.
Proceeds from the sales of "From Stage to Screen" will
be divided between two charities, Alzheimer's Society and All Dogs Matter.
When I hear the name Jack Hill the first thing that
comes to mind is the roster of gritty exploitationers he shot with Pam Grier – Coffey, Foxy Brown, The Big Doll
House, The Big Bird Cage – or
perhaps the bizarre, comic horrors of Spider
Baby. What my thinking seldom, if ever, gravitates towards is 1974's The Swinging Cheerleaders, one of Hill's
last directorial spins and an altogether rather humdrum bag of tricks.
Preparing an article for
the Mesa College newspaper on what she considers to be the demeaning nature of
cheerleading, student Kate Cory (Jo Johnston, in her only film role) sets out
to get herself selected as a member of the football team's resident
cheerleading squad, alongside Andrea (Cheryl Rainbeaux Smith), Mary Ann
(Colleen Camp) and Lisa (Rosanne Katon). When Mary Ann learns of Kate's true
motives and, worse yet, that their new inductee is making a play for her
boyfriend, ace footballer Buck (Ron Hajak), she's too distracted to notice her
father, the college Dean (George Wallace), is masterminding a get-rich-quick
gambling scheme; in cahoots with the team coach (Jack Denton) and the maths
professor (Jason Sommers), he’s rigging football matches to line his pockets.
Co-written by Hill and Rape Squad scribe David Kidd (under the noms des plumes Jane Witherspoon and
Betty Conklin) and shot in just 12 days, The
Swinging Cheerleaders is a strange one; essentially suffering from a genre
identity crisis, it's thematically all over the shop. Bearing in mind the title
and the premise – not to mention the suggestive promotional poster art – one
could be forgiven for expecting a saucy, gag-fuelled campus comedy in the vein
of an Animal House or a Porky's, and in many respects that seems
to be what Hill was striving for (in fact, he claims that he imagined it as a
'Disney Sex Comedy', whatever that concept
might constitute!); there are a number of situations, some played out with jaunty
musical accompaniment, that are clearly aiming for laughs. However, material
that gives rise to chuckles is patchy at best and much of it frankly isn't
funny at all. But then that's hardly surprising given that it’s sandwiched
between sleaziness more suited to Hill's aforementioned exploitationers, for
example brutish rogue cops force feeding a bottle of liquor to the hero, or
(off screen) gang rape.
What the show cries out
for but sorely fails to muster up is a hefty dose of genuine funnies; the core ingredients are all present and correct – a lecherous coach who leers at cheerleaders’
posteriors through his binoculars, randy male students eager to disrobe their
female classmates, a Dean who’s far from the upstanding pillar his position commands
– it's simply that the measures are all
wrong and the resulting confection leaves a bitter taste on the palate. Thus,
regardless of its pretensions as to otherwise, what The Swinging Cheerleaders ends up as is a lukewarm, borderline
schmaltzy drama, with Kate finally realising that cheerleading isn't such a
terrible thing after all and bagging the football team's star player into the
bargain. One slapstick sequence does
stand out, but for the wrong reasons: As a procession of characters file past a
bad guy, each of them lands a punch on him whilst he just stands there taking
it and going full pelt on theatrical mugging. The scene is so completely out of
step with the rest of the picture that it feels as if it has snuck in from
another film. This off kilter tone carries through to other aspects of the film
too, notably the character of the dodgy Dean, who vacillates between being
genuinely unpleasant (he slaps Mary Ann around when she foul mouths him) and
slipping into moments of pantomime villainy.
Speaking of characters, it
doesn't help that some of them are plain objectionable. Actually, scratch that,
all of them are objectionable. Which
isn’t to say the performers aren’t easy on the eye – particularly Smith (who
first caught this reviewer's attention in The
Incredible Melting Man, in which she loses her shirt and stumbles over a
headless corpse all in the space of a few seconds), Camp (still working today),
future Playboy centrefold (September 1978) Katon, and (for the female audience)
Hajak and Ric Carrott – even if they're prime examples of that cardinal college
movie 'sin' of looking too old to convince as teen students.
Truthfully, were it not for Quentin Tarantino's
enthusiastic flag-waving when he programmed The Swinging Cheerleaders as part of his first film festival back in the mid-90s, I suspect
it's one that may have escaped my attention. And that would be a shame, because
although it's hardly on a par with the cream of Hill’s c.v., despite the prevalent
tang of negativity shrouding this piece, the man himself singles it out from
his oeuvre as the one he most enjoyed working on, which alone makes it worthy
of attention.
The
Swinging Cheerleaders has been released on dual format
Blu-ray and DVD in the UK from Arrow, its unwarranted 18-certificate playing
guilty accomplice to the implication it’s something far more salacious than it
actually is. The presentation itself is derived from a 2K restoration of the
original film elements and on the Blu-Ray under review here the image is
pleasingly bright and colourful with a moderate level of grain present
throughout. The highlight bonus is a feature-accompanying commentary with
the eminently entertaining Hill (moderated by Ejijah Drenner, who works up a
nice rapport with the director). Then, along with an on-camera interview with
Hill and one with DoP Alfred Taylor, there's an old (poorly filmed) interview
with Hill hosted by Johnny Legend, a 2012 Q&A with Hill, Camp and Katon (sadly
it too was amateurishly shot), and some original release TV spots (the tone of
which also misrepresent the film as a laughfest).
Cinema Retro has received the following press announcement:
For the first time on DVD a brand new series
of relaxed, intimate, face to face interviews with some of Britain’s finest,
much loved actors, who share with us moments from their lives and work in
theatre, television and films.
With careers that span over seven decades,
we hear stories about the greatest theatres (The National; The Old Vic; The
Royal Shakespeare Company); the theatrical knights (Olivier; Gielgud; Richardson);
the bright lights of Broadway, and the most celebrated movie directors of the
twentieth century (Spielberg; Fellini; Huston; Chaplin; Visconti; Lean).
Featuring an extensive archive of rare
photographs and film trailers, it is a nostalgic trip down memory lane in the
company of highly respected actors who have given us some unforgettable
performances.
Joss Ackland, Michael Medwin, Vera Day,
Julian Glover, Michael Craig, Roy Dotrice, Sarah Miles, Lee Montague, Michael
Jayston, Derren Nesbitt, Freddie Jones, Shirley Anne Field
Tony
Earnshaw, one of our contributing writers, has trawled his extensive archive of
interviews with prolific directors – accrued over some 20 years of attending
press junkets – and cherry picked a selection of the most worthy material for
his new book "Fantastique: Interviews with Horror, Sci-Fi and Fantasy
Filmmakers" (a title which, on the copyright page, is tantalisingly
suffixed with a parenthesised Volume I).
Though
around a third of these interviews were conducted in the more intimate environs
of one-on-one sessions, the remainder derive from press junkets mounted at the
time of each film's release. Whether the responses gleaned to questions posed
under such circumstances can be considered entirely honest or not is debatable,
the very purpose of those (usually contractual) gatherings being for directors
and all manner of other associated creative parties to sell their movie as the
best thing to ever hit the screen; it can often take a bit of distance and the
benefit of hindsight to extrude more candid comments. However, given that most
of the films under discussion here were bona fide critical and financial
successes adds considerably to the veracity of the directors’ words.
Some
anecdotes harbour a ring of familiarity (again, being the product of press events,
they were repeated often), but this reader found enough fresh meat and potatoes
to compensate. Everyone will have their favourite chapters (as likely to be dictated
by one’s liking for a particular film as they are a partiality to the director
at hand); among the highlights for this reader were Tim Burton (on 2000's Sleepy Hollow) revealing Christopher
Walken's apparent fear of horses (he must have had a tough time on the likes of
1978’s Shoot the Sun Down and 1985
Bond caper A View to a Kill too then!),
William Friedkin (on 1973's The Exorcist)
dismissing the stories of the much-publicised curse surrounding the production
and his disinclination to ever integrate the legendarily shelved "spider
walk" sequence into the film (which, in a new cut some years later, was), James Mangold talking about his
multi-layered mystery masterpiece Identity
(2003), and literally everything a tirelessly enthusiastic Frank Henenlotter
had to say in a 2012 retrospective discussing his movie-saturated youth and in
particular his barmy 1982 comic horror film Basket
Case.
Opening
with a foreword from noted genre writer Bruce G Hallenbeck and rounded off with
a listing of director filmographies, “Fantastique†is an irresistibly worthy
addition to the library of anyone with even a passing interest in fantastic
cinema. Roll on Volume II.
Michael
Winner's ribald 1983 reimagining of 1945’s venerated The Wicked Lady gets a long overdue UK DVD release from Second
Sight in July. Bristling with star names delivering some of the most cringe-worthy
performances of their careers, needless to say it's an essential acquisition.
The
beautiful Caroline (Glynis Barber) invites her dearest friend Barbara (Faye
Dunaway) to meet her husband-to-be, Sir Ralph Skelton (Denholm Elliott). The
manipulative Barbara seduces Skelton and the demure Caroline graciously steps
aside allowing them to wed. Quickly tiring of her affluent and influential
position as Lady Skelton, Barbara is soon looking for something to spice up her
life. One night, desperate to retrieve jewellery that she has carelessly forfeited
in a game of cards, she dons attire akin to that of infamous local highwayman
Captain Jackson. The adrenaline rush she gets from the experience gives her a
taste to continue her nocturnal thievery, but inevitably it isn’t long before
she crosses paths with the real Jackson (Alan Bates), an encounter that gives
rise to an unexpected turn of events.
German release poster
Based
on the novel "The Life and Death of the Wicked Lady Skelton" by
Magdalen King-Hall, Winner’s The Wicked
Lady was produced by Israeli cousins Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus, whose
production company The Cannon Group spat out literally dozens of films in its
heyday, many of them big star vehicles and most of them pretty bad – though, it
has to be said, few of them less than entertainingly so. Winner would work with
the gregarious producers several times throughout the 80s, taking the helm for Death Wish II and 3, Bullseye (with Golan
alone) and Hercule Poirot mystery Appointment
with Death.
The director took co-writing credit on The Wicked Ladywith the original version's scripter Leslie Arliss. The resulting film has taken a lot of flack throughout the years for its vapidity – and, rest assured, high art it most certainly ain't. But as guilty pleasures go they don't come much more rewarding. I mean, what's not to like about a movie in which Faye Dunaway andStar Trek: The Next Generation's Marina Sirtis get into a gratuitously protracted, BBFC-baiting catfight which evolves into a skirmish with whips during which Dunaway lashes her opponents clothing to shreds? It's something of a star-studded affair too; along with Dunaway, Elliott, Bates and Barber there's substantial input from the likes of John Gielgud, Oliver Tobias, Prunella Scales and Joan Hickson. Performances are uniformly ripe and one or two are camper than a field full of tents…which, perversely, only serves to enhance the film’s entertainment value. Dunaway was actually nominated for a 1984 Razzie as worst actress forThe Wicked Lady– and witnessing her overwrought performance in the final scene one could argue a strong case for her having romped it – though she was ultimately trounced by Pia Zadora forThe Lonely Lady.
From 1978 Taxi, one of the most beloved sitcoms in
TV history, ran for five seasons and featured a hugely talented collection of
character actors. This was the show that made its’ stars household names, and
now that you can look back on the series nearly forty years later, it is easy
to see why. Unlike some classic television from the 1970s, Taxi is still funny.
Taxi focused on several taxi drivers and
other staff who worked for Danny de Vito, who sat safely in his dispatcher’s
cage barking orders at all around him. On the surface an unlikeable character,
there were occasional chinks in his armour revealing a softer side. Doing their
best to get by, surviving life near the bottom in New York City, were Judd
Hirsch, Tony Danza, Marilu Henner, Jeff Conaway, Christopher Lloyd and Andy
Kaufman, amongst others. The latter played Eastern European idiot-savant Latka,
the mechanic who quickly became everyone’s favourite character, as evidenced by
the studio audience cheering whenever he walks on to the scene.
This new box
set, carrying every single episode, enables you to see how these great
performers grew into their characters, developing quirks and catchphrases as
the interplay of their personal relationships became the main reason audiences
came back every week. Sure, it was a funny show, but these were people you
could believe in. You could switch on your TV and spend time with a group of working
stiffs whose lives, loves and daily struggles were a lot like your own, and the
fact that they faced their challenges with a smile and a (mostly) positive
outlook gave you hope for your own sometimes difficult existence. The set
itself is thin on extras however: original series promos are on here which are
a slab of nostalgia in themselves. The only other bonus feature is a one-hour
compilation of the best of Taxi,
which given the fact that you now hold all 114 episodes in your hands seems a
little redundant.
It is no
surprise that Taxi only survived one
more season after the show’s main writers Glen Charles and Les Charles, along
with director James Burrows, left to create Cheers.
Taxi’s final season shows the hole
they left, but still contains a lot of entertainment nonetheless. And looking
back at Taxi now, a sitcom repeated
less often than Cheers, one can see
how the two are connected. Both take a comical look at the American working
man, but are not afraid to turn down the jokes for emotional moments when the
time is right. Taxi will bring back
waves of nostalgia for anyone over a certain age who remembers watching
television in the late 1970s and early 1980s. All that is missing from this box
set to make the experience complete are some vintage commercials and a few TV
dinners.
When I Love Lucy debuted on American television in 1951, nobody could
have suspected that it would become one of the most beloved shows of all time.
Across six seasons Lucille Ball and her real-life husband, Cuban band leader
Desi Arnaz, shared their lives with millions. At the time it was the most
watched show in the United States, and undoubtedly helped fuel TV set sales
during the decade. It has also been repeated constantly since, and sold around
the world. Now, almost sixty years since the final episode, it is possible to
go back and view it all from the beginning.
Keeping their own names helped further
blur the line between the show and reality in the minds of the audience, and
watching Desi and Lucy every week felt like you were spending time with real
friends. For the most part the situations played out in I Love Lucy were relatable (despite the occasional flights of
fancy, such as a visit from Superman to her son’s birthday party), and
reflected the new booming post-war economy in the States, when homes were new
and filled with the latest labour-saving devices. Lucy was the perfect
housewife and foil to Desi’s rather serious-minded band leader. She was always
involved in schemes to manipulate or get around him, but would always end up
being put back in her place. In many ways Lucille Ball was a proto-feminist,
becoming one of the first powerful women in Hollywood, but the message of the
show was not always quite so advanced. Despite this she was adored by both male
and female viewers.
I Love Lucy
was, in part, an attempt to hold their marriage together. Lucille had insisted
Desi play her husband in the show to enable them to spend more time together,
but it clearly didn’t work. She filed for divorce in 1960, one day after
filming the final episode, claiming their marriage had not been like it was on
TV. She bought out ownership of their production company Desilu Productions and
became important and powerful force in Hollywood at the time. The Twilight Zone had first aired as an
unofficial pilot show as part of the Westinghouse Desilu Playhouse in 1958, and
Desilu went on to produce Star Trek, Mission Impossible and many more.
If you have watched a lot of early
television, particularly that made in the UK, the first thing to strike you
when viewing I Love Lucy on DVD is
the quality of the production. Eschewing early, cheaper video formats, the show
pioneered the technique of using a multi-camera studio arrangement and recorded
straight onto 35mm film. Therefore, watching it now I Love Lucy looks as good, most likely better, than it did at the
time. This image quality occasionally works to I Love Lucy’s detriment now, as it is easy to spot the occasional
painted backdrops and hastily-created sets, something which would have been
lost in the low resolution broadcasts of the 1950s. The high production value
is owed almost entirely to Karl Freund, director of the Peter Lorre-starring Mad Love (1935) and one of the most
important cinematographers to come out of Germany: The Golem (1920) and Metropolis
(1927) are amongst his credits, and one of the first Hollywod movies he shot
was Tod Browning’s Dracula (1931). He
was invited to be the Director of Photography on I Love Lucy and effectively invented the multi-camera format that
is still used for studio sitcoms and dramas today.
This box set includes dozens of bonus
features alongside the hours and hours of actual episodes. They have found
original openings and trails from the archives, which provide an interesting
glimpse into early 1950s television viewing. Also included are episodes of
Lucille Ball’s earlier radio sitcom My
Favourite Husband, the show that inspired I Love Lucy, deleted footage, home movie footage from the set, interviews
and much more.
If you Love Lucy, pick up this box set from 30th May.
Two
early 1970s Italian Gothic chillers from director Emilio Miraglia have been released
in the UK in a dual Blu-ray/DVD box set. Bearing the tantalising umbrella title
"Killer Dames", it could equally be looked upon as a Marina Malfatti
set, since the actress occupies a prominent role in both of the films contained
therein.
A
prolific assistant director throughout the first half of the 60s, Emilio Miraglia's
fourth spin in the director's chair following a trio of crime thrillers was
also his first foray into terror terrain. 1971's The Night Evelyn Came Out of Her Grave (o.t. La Notte Che Evelyn Usci Della Tomba) concerns English aristocrat Lord
Cunningham (Anthony Steffan), a man devastated by the passing of his titian-haired
wife Evelyn, who he suspected was being unfaithful. Struggling to overcome his
grief over her death and rage at her perceived infidelity, Cunningham lures attractive
redheaded women to his castle residence on the outskirts of London where he
first seduces then tortures them in a dungeon kitted out with S&M gear. Cunningham's
doctor (Giacomo Rossi Stuart) convinces him that remarriage is the only way to stem
his unravelling sanity, whereafter he meets and falls for the beautiful Gladys (Marina
Malfatti). They wed and at first it appears that the doctor's advice was sound.
But then the slayings begin...
The
screenplay, which Miraglia co-wrote with Fabio Pittorru and Massimo Felsatti, is
an intoxicating blend of Gothic mystery and stylish giallo, top-heavy with the
staple ingredients of the latter – copious nudity and sadistic killing. In one
particularly nasty sequence a victim is thrown into an animal enclosure where
the canidae residents rip out her intestines. Director of photography Gastone
di Giovanni brings plenty of visual lustre to the show and Bruno Nicolai
provides a dreamy cocktail lounge score. Although the pace slackens a tad here
and there and the sadomasochistic facet affords it an unnecessarily sleazy vibe,
in summation it’s a compelling enough little number which keeps one engaged and
guessing up until the last reel – bristling with unpredictable double and
triple crosses – and its slightly abrupt conclusion. Steffan makes for a solid
leading man, slipping back and forth between cultured sophistication and sweaty
paranoia, whilst Malfatti is delightful as the beleaguered heroine.
Miraglia's
next film (and Evelyn's bedmate in
this set, surely not coincidentally also featuring a key character by that
name) was the following year's The Red
Queen Kills Seven Times (1972, o.t. La
Dama Uccide Sette Volte, a.k.a. The
Lady in Red Kills Seven Times - its onscreen title here).
In
the wake of their grandfather's murder by a masked figure cloaked in crimson, two
sisters (Barbara Bouchet and Marina Malfatti) inherit his castle abode. But the
murders continue, believed by some to be perpetrated by the mythical ‘Red Queen’
who, family legend has it, returns every 100 years to claim seven lives. Could that
possibly be the case? Or is there something more insidious going on?
If you were going to write a
script following the further adventures of two Shakespearean characters, it's a
safe bet Rosencrantz and Guildenstern wouldn't be the first names to spring to
mind. For those who don't know, they are two minor characters from Shakespeare's
Hamlet. They become the focus of Tom Stoppard's 1966 play Rosencrantz
And Guildenstern Are Dead, adapted for the big screen in 1990. The title is
taken directly from a line spoken in Hamlet.
It is a fairly shapeless,
existential film. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern (Gary Oldman and Tim Roth)
travel around the wilderness, partaking in nonsensical debates about fate,
chance, life and death. They seem unsure of where they are going or why, and often
muddle up their own names as if they are not entirely certain of their
identity.
They stumble across a
travelling acting troupe fronted by the Lead Player (Richard Dreyfuss). He
gives them cryptic hints about their place in the bigger picture, but much of
his meaning is lost on them. Occasionally, they find themselves flitting into
the events happening at the Danish castle of Elsinore, where young Prince
Hamlet (Iain Glen) is descending into madness following the death of his father
and the subsequent marriage of his mother (Joanna Miles) to his scheming uncle,
Claudius (Donald Sumpter). When involved in the fineries of Hamlet's story,
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern suddenly become different men - they become more
articulate and purposeful, and have a better understanding of their place in
the world. When the action moves away and they are left alone once more, they
slip back into nonsensical and often stupid character traits, as if they have
been stripped of their personality and understanding.
The film often focuses on
the off-stage aspects of Hamlet, wherein Rosencrantz and Guildenstern
are mostly confused by the small snippets of information they glean from their
position at the edge of the main action. They try hopelessly to piece together
what is happening in Hamlet's life (and the lives of other characters) during
their absence, but only come up with fanciful theories to explain situations
which lie beyond their grasp. The technique raises an important question for
the audience: what role do we play in other people's lives? Our friend's lives,
our family's lives, don't cease to exist just because we aren't present - yet
we don't know what is happening to them or what they are experiencing at any
given time unless we are there to bear witness. Ultimately, lives carry on
regardless and our understanding of any situation is dictated and shaped by
whatever snippets we see for ourselves.
It's a clever device which
enables us to relate to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. We see that, like them,
we are merely minor characters on a much larger stage - called 'Life'. The two
main characters are constantly mistaken for each other by those around them;
even between themselves they often forget which one is Rosencrantz and which is
Guildenstern. In some ways, Stoppard is mocking the way they are written in the
play, indicating they are so similar that they might as well have been rolled
into one, since there is not enough discernible difference between them.
One can imagine that
adapting the play for the big screen would present a daunting prospect for many
directors. It comes as little surprise, then, that Stoppard himself directed
the film version. As he pointed out in
an interview with the Los Angeles Times: "It began to become clear
that it might be a good idea if I did it myself—at least the director wouldn't
have to keep wondering what the author meant. It just seemed that I'd be the
only person who could treat the play with the necessary disrespect." He does a commendablejob here, and it seems surprising this was his one and only film directing assignment. With over 40 writing
credits to his name, it would have been interesting to see him adapting and directing
one of his other plays.
During the casting stages,
Stoppard approached Sean Connery to play the Lead Player. Once Connery's name was associated with the
production, Stoppard was able to secure funding for it.Unfortunately, around this time Connery was having problems with his
throat, leading him to visit a specialist who discovered abnormal
cells which had to be surgically removed. Connery pulled out of the feature to concentrate
on his health. Stoppard reacted angrily, informing the actor he had committed to the film and the producers would take the matter further. In
the end, Connery settled the matter out of court. It's not difficult to visualise Connery in the role: he would have had fun with the character and his voice would have
suited the prose beautifully, but alasit was not to be. Richard Dreyfuss makes a
perfectly worthy replacement, full of energy and mischievous humour in the
flamboyant role.
Remember the old days when unpredictable occurrences seemed to predictably occur at the Oscars ceremony? There was the nude streaker who failed to unravel the ever-unflappable David Niven. There were the political activist winners who used the forum to grandstand for their favorite causes. This included Vanessa Redgrave's pro-Palestinian, anti-Zionist remarks during her acceptance speech, Marlon Brando sending a surrogate to reject his "Godfather" Oscar in protest of Hollywood's treatment of Native Americans, "Patton" winner George C. Scott refusing to show up at all in protest of the competitive nature of awards shows, the producers of the anti-Vietnam War documentary "Hearts and Minds" taking solace that that the nation was about to be "liberated" by a brutal communist regime, which caused another stir when Frank Sinatra was pushed on stage at Bob Hope's urging to read a hastily-scribbled denouncement of the remark. The Oscars haven't been as relevant or fun since, though I've been among the dwindling ranks of critics who often defend the entertainment value of the show even as its become ever more chic to diss the telecast as increasingly irrelevant. The Oscars have always been flawed, to be sure, and so have the ceremonies but they have also provided a lot of moments that were fun and sometimes poignant. (If you doubt me, just watch the marvelous segment of Charlie Chaplin returning from blacklist exile to receive a lifetime achievement Oscar in 1972 in the clip below.)
This year's Oscar awards ceremony didn't need spontaneous moments to cause controversy. We knew going in that the elephant in the room would have to be addressed: the on-going criticism in some quarters that the Academy is racist because there were no black nominees this year. This is total nonsense, of course, as has been pointed out by numerous distinguished African-American members of the Academy. Yes, Oscar was lily white this year and last year as well but it certainly wasn't due to an orchestrated attempt to bar people of color from being nominees. Since the 1960s, the Academy has overseen a long, sometimes torturous road toward removing the kinds of prejudicial barriers that not only had traditionally characterized the awards but the Hollywood studio system as a whole. It was a big deal when Hattie McDaniel won for "Gone With the Wind" and Sidney Poitier became the second black actor to win a full quarter of a century later for "Lilies of the Field". Since then the Academy has mirrored the changes in society to the point where no one thinks its particularly newsworthy to report on the skin color of any winner. Still, some folks got their knickers twisted about the all-white field of nominees this year. Host Chris Rock was lobbied to cancel his gig as host of the event, 'lest he be labeled an Uncle Tom. (To his credit, Rock ignored the implied threat.) A few other prominent people made a big deal about boycotting the ceremony. Chief among them, Will Smith, whose absence seemed less a statement of principal than simply pouting over the fact that he didn't get his expected nomination for "Concussion". (Smith conveniently seems to have forgotten that the Academy had previously nominated him twice.) Smith was joined by the ever-angry Spike Lee, despite the fact that his career was launched by winning a student Academy Award. He had also been nominated for two regular Oscars and only this very year accepted an honorary Oscar for his entire career. He showed up to accept that at a pre-broadcast ceremony, all the while denouncing the Academy as engaging in racist behavior. Talk about wanting your cake and eating it, too. Lee pointed out that this is the second straight year that the Oscars nominees were all white. "We can't act?! WTF!!", he asked rhetorically. That's hardly the case. Remember way back to 2014 when the Academy earned praise for its awarding of three Oscars ( and a total of nine nominations) to "12 Years a Slave"? Lee and Smith would somehow have you believe that the Academy members suddenly became racist since then and conspired to deprive black artists from getting nominations. The sad truth is that there is a scarcity of black talent behind the cameras and the major African-American actors often don't appear in films that are Oscar-worthy. That's not to diminish the value of the actors or the films. They are simply gearing their movies to the expectations of their audiences, which is what actors have done since the beginning of time. Chris Rock emphasized this point with an amusing "man-on-the-street" segment in which everyday black moviegoers were interviewed about their opinions of the films nominated this year for Best Picture. None of the people interviewed saw them and some hadn't even heard of any. The lack of interest among younger black people to pursue movie-making careers does deprive the industry of hearing and seeing alternative viewpoints from a cinematic perspective. But what is the solution proposed by Lee and Smith- to force young people to attend film school whether they like it or not?
Last night's ceremony started off well with a witty and expertly delivered monologue by Chris Rock. He gently tweaked the Academy by acknowledging the controversy but then, like a person who can't resist telling a good joke until the point of boredom, he kept revisiting the racism angle throughout the evening with very mixed results. To be sure Rock was himself caught between a rock and a hard place. He had to thread the needle between not appearing to be insulting to the Academy that was paying him a king's ransom to host the show, without alienating his core base of fans. To the degree he succeeded will be determined in the days to come. (Personally, I'm getting weary of major awards shows hiring hosts who have the intention of trashing the very awards the show is about. Enough already.) Suffice it to say Rock was in the ultimate "no win" situation. However, his insistence on not burying the race debate undermined other elements of the show. Adding to the absurdity of the racism accusations was a speech about diversity that was delivered by Cheryl Boone Isaacs, president of the Academy, who, not incidentally, is an African-American. I don't know of many racist organizations that elect a minority female to be their representative. In any event, the Academy went so overboard in presenting black artists on stage that the whole thing threatened to back-fire. Presumably, the intention was to provide a not-so-subtle rebuke of Smith and Lee's charges by having some of the most respected African-Americans in the industry today show their implied support of the Academy by appearing on the show. After all, does anyone really think living legends like Morgan Freeman or Quincy Jones would lend their presence to a racist ceremony? However, most viewers probably simply regarded this as politically correct pandering to the critics. Indeed, Sacha Baron Cohen, in amusing ""Ali G" character mode made reference to the "token" white presenters. Since the vast majority of people who watch the Oscars are older and white, you could almost hear the comments in homes across the nation: "I hate racism but for God's sake stop cramming all this diversity stuff into the Oscars." Agree or disagree, I've already heard from people who think the Academy, in the immortal words of Louis B. Mayer, should "Leave the messages to Western Union".
Chris: Between a Rock and a hard place.
The main purpose of the ceremony is to celebrate great film-making but the constant references to race threatened to overshadow the individual achievements of the artists. The show ambled on to the customary 3 1/2 hour running time. As usual there were highs and lows. What follows are my random thoughts on various aspects of the show:
It always bothers me that honorary awards to living legends are reduced to a few seconds of film clips from a pre-show dinner. This is supposedly done to allow the telecast to move quickly. However, it also deprives viewers of magical moments such as the Chaplin award shown in the clip above. This year we learned that Debbie Reynolds received an honorary Oscar yet we got to see virtually none of it. Yet there was time for such bizarre segments as "SNL"-like comedy skits, a protracted and unfunny extended gag in which Girl Scouts went into the audience to sell cookies (!)and an appearance by Vice-President Joe Biden (to a rapturous ovation) to denounce sexual harassment on college campuses. Huh? While I don't want to see anyone suffer harassment of any kind anywhere, this was out of place on the Oscars and only justified on the dotted line reasoning that the subject matter was covered in the Oscar-nominated documentary "The Hunting Ground". Sorry- it would have been more appropriate to see Debbie Reynolds in the twilight of her years accepting accolades from her peers.
It was a night of surprises. Alejandro Inarritu, who won the Oscar last year for directing "Birdman", scored a rare back-to-back win for "The Revenant". However, this was also a rare case in which the Best Picture ("Spotlight") was directed by someone other than the Best Director winner. You had to feel for Sylvester Stallone, who was the sentimental favorite for Supporting Actor for "Creed". He lost in a surprise upset to the brilliant Mark Rylance for "Bridge of Spies" that reminded me of a similar situation many years ago when Burt Reynolds was supposed to win in the same category for "Boogie Nights" only to be by-passed by the Fickle Finger of Fate. Let's hope Stallone at least keeps his renewed respect in the industry by not making the mistake Reynolds made and delving back into awful projects in search of a fast, fat pay check. Another big surprise was the fact that "Mad Max: Fury Road" won the most Oscars, six in total, all in the technical categories. A lot of establishment types are still mystified about the critical acclaim this film received and how it ended up with a Best Picture nod. Suffice it to say, it's an acquired taste.
There was a definite political aspect to the show, all of it left wing. As usual some winners used their speeches to sermonize about everything from race relations to the threat of global warming. (They should pass out violins to these people.) At some point I thought I could hear Rush Limbaugh's head explode, though the telecast will give right wing commentators plenty of meat on the bone for their annual dissection of the awards as a thinly-disguised Democratic political event. Having said that, there were precious few Donald Trump jokes. Perhaps he's doing more damage to himself than any writers could.
Style and glamour outdistanced the embarrassing fashion statements. Many of the ladies looked sensational, though I will admit to being vulnerable in terms of overlooking certain fashion mistakes if the necklines plunge deep enough. It's enough to justify the admonishments of Major Hawthorne, played by Terry-Thomas in "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World", who chastises Americans for their "positively infantile pre-occupation with bosoms!" The men looked equally classy and elegant with the Bond-revived white tuxedo making a major comeback. Host Chris Rock wore one and looked terrific. The biggest faux pas in terms of fashion, quite predictably came from the Oscar winner for Best Costume Design, Jenny Beavan, who won for "Mad Max: Fury Road". She decided to replicate the grunge look of the film by wearing a cheap leather jacket but she came off looking like a character from the "Star Wars" cantina sequence.
Actress/model Kate Upton symbolized the female strategy for attire: "If you've got it, flaunt it!"
An emotional highlight was the Best Score Oscar given to one of the few living legends in the field, the great Ennio Morricone for his score for "The Hateful Eight". Morricone's presence only reiterated just how diminished the field of impressive film composers is today. Sure, there are a handful of reliable names but no one like Morricone, John Barry, Dimitri Tiomkin, Elmer Bernstein or Jerry Goldsmith. That's partly the fault of an industry that regards composers not as valuable members of the production team, as it had in the past, but as necessary evils. Therefore composers are often brought in very late to create scores on ridiculously short deadlines.
The in memorial montage to talents lost in the last year is always a moving highlight, and this year was no exception. However, as usual there were some inexcusable snubs of revered people. The most glaring I noticed was John Guillermin, who directed such major hits as "The Towering Inferno", "King Kong" (1976 version), "Death on the Nile", "Skyjacked" and many others. No mention of beloved character actor Abe Vigoda, either. Yet, there was room in the montage for a host of people who worked in the weeds of show business in terms of public awareness. (Apparently even dead people in Hollywood need press agents.) These omissions cause great backlashes every year but the Academy soldiers on making the same mistakes, thus giving credence to conspiracy theorists who believe that inclusion in the montage is based more on personal relationships than achievements.
Most of the speeches by winners were unremarkable. Popular winner for Best Actor Leonardo DiCaprio was a class act, as was Mark Rylance. When the winners droned on too long, the orchestra fired up Wagner's "Ride of the Valkyries" to intimidate them into shutting up. It seemed to have little-to-no effect. Maybe next year a helicopter attack can accompany the music to persuade them to get off stage.
Best speech of the night was by presenter Louis C.K. who pointed out that the most deserving nominees were those in the category for Best Documentary (short). He said that these were true artists, driven by a passion for story-telling and filmmaking and that none of them will probably make anything like a living wage in the course of these noble endeavors.
Every year there is at least one presenter who engages in trashy behavior in order to bolster their image as somebody on the "cutting edge". This year it was foul-mouthed "comedienne" Sarah Silverman, who has about as much to do with the contemporary film industry as Fatty Arbuckle. Silverman, with her trademark deadpan Morticia Adams demeanor, strode on stage to introduce a performance of the nominated song "Writing's On the Wall" from "Spectre". She used the opportunity to disparage the long-running franchise and, in doing so, diminished the introduction of the song's writer and performer, Sam Smith. The Bond producers and Smith got the last laugh when the song won the award but one has to wonder why Silverman was chosen to introduce a segment that insulted the nominees? Surely there were composers and singers who would have been honored to have the gig. Instead, they went with a woman whose film credits include something titled "Cops, Cum, Dicks and Flying". Whoever brought her on board should be fired- or worse, made to watch back-to-back screenings of "Copes, Cum, Dicks and Flying".
Speaking of the Best Song category, Smith's Bond number was no classic by 007 standards but it was certainly a lot better than some worst songs in the series (think "Die Another Day" and the wretched "Quantum Of Solace"). It was also light years better than the other nominated songs that were performed including "Til It Happens to You", a dreadful concoction about sexual abuse from "The Hunting Ground" written and performed by Lady Gaga. It may have been written with the best of intentions (abuse victims were present on stage) but that didn't make hearing it any more bearable. Similarly, the song "Earned It" from "50 Shades of Grey" was also terrible. The film is about people who enjoy sado-masochism. After listening to this number I felt that I had been drafted into the ranks of masochists. By the way, two of the nominated songs weren't even performed at all, proving that star power is the primary factor in terms of deciding who the "Cool Kids" are in terms of having their work exposed to millions of viewers. Who gets to tell the nominees of the other two songs that their work doesn't merit being performed? (Click here to view the song performances).
Speaking of Bondian references, it was nice to hear those classic 007 themes played as the show entered each commercial break. Also great that they included Burt Bacharach's superb main theme for the 1967 spoof version of "Casino Royale".
I was happy to see "Spotlight" nab the Best Picture award primarily because it reiterates the valuable and often thankless role that investigative reporters play in democratic societies. Sadly we live in an age where such writing skills and dogged determination are deemed expendable by people who rarely pick up newspapers any more.
Well, that's about it for my take on our old friend Oscar this year. Click here for full list of winners. To weigh in on your own opinions, please visit the Cinema Retro Facebook page.
By
Derek Pykett (Published by BearManor Media £20.00), 444 Pages, Softcover, ISBN:
9781593938833 (also available £26.50 Hardcover)
Review by Tim Greaves
Several
of the greatest films of all time were made at MGM British Studios and some of Hollywood's
most prolific names laid foot upon the stages there. In an eminently readable
trip down memory lane, “MGM British Studios: Hollywood in Borehamwood†is a bounteous
treasure trove primarily comprising interesting and amusing memories of some of
those who had the privilege to work there. Sub-titled "Celebrating 100 Years
of the Film Studios of Elstree/Borehamwood", the tome boasts a voluminous collection
of stories from those who worked in front of and behind the camera back in
those halcyon days – some names are familiar, others not so much, but all of
them have tales to tell; if nothing else, author Derek Pykett deserves an award
for his prowess in undertaking the unenviable task of assembling the wealth of
material into concise and readable form.
Following no less than five forewords (from Rod Taylor, Nicholas Roeg, Olivia
de Havilland, Virginia McKenna and Kenneth Hyman), the author provides some background
information on the six studios that operated in the Borehamwood and Elstree area
before moving forward through the decades, with mention – albeit not always
extensive – of every production that came to fruition there. Anecdotal material
is present in abundance and there are some marvellous nuggets to be found
within. Just a few standouts for this reviewer: Christopher Lee reminiscing over
some wordplay with Errol Flynn on the set of The Dark Avenger that resulted in the unfortunate (and permanent)
disfigurement to one of his fingers; Brian Cobby's amusing recollections of his
embarrassment over appearing starkers in For
Members Only (US: The Nudist Story;
and Bette Davis's pithy remarks after working with Alec Guinness on The Scapegoat – "[He] is an actor
who plays by himself, unto himself. In this picture he plays a dual role so at
least he was able to play with himself." (Try reading that and not hearing
her acid tongue spitting out the words.)
Additionally there is some terrific trivia dotted throughout, all drawn from
the files of the "Borehamwood & Elstree Post", with stories ranging
from an alleged alcohol-related motoring accident involving Trevor Howard and (in
a separate incident) Burt Lancaster's chauffeur driven car being damaged in a
collision, to an electrician being taken to court and fined the princely sum of
£1 for assaulting a colleague on set.
It has to be said that some passages leave one feeling a tad short-changed, for
example the coverage of the quartet of ‘Miss Marple’ films starring Margaret
Rutherford – shot between 1961 and 1964, and which this reviewer happens to
adore – that amounts to barely more than a page (though I was intrigued to
learn that Marple's cottage in the film, located in Denham Village, was some 20
years earlier John Mills's family home). However, one also appreciates that
given the breadth of the subject as a whole, brevity is paramount in holding
the reader's attention and Pykett's engaging and fact-laden prose keeps things
moving swiftly along, resulting in a captivating page-turner. Where the text is
a little more in depth – information focussing on producer brothers Edward and
Harry Danziger and the section devoted to the production of The Dirty Dozen, for example – there’s
some fabulous reading, also found in the slightly meatier pieces devoted to
Hitchcock and Kubrick.
The 1967 boxoffice smash "The Dirty Dozen" starring Lee Marvin was among the many classic films shot at MGM British Studios.
Rounded
out with three expansive photo sections featuring shots of the sets, the stars,
the films and a wealth of behind a camera treasures (wherein fans of TVs Richard the Lionheart and Where Eagles Dare are particularly well
catered for), a pair of chronologically arranged filmography chapters, and a
reproduction of the text from a 1950s promo booklet put out but the studio to
extol the virtues of its facilities, "MGM British Studios: Hollywood in
Borehamwood" is a recommended addition to the bookshelf of anyone with
even a passing interest in the golden years of movie-making in Britain.
Ursula
(Barbara Magnolfi) and Dagmar (Stefania D'Amario) are sisters looking for their
mother, a once successful actress who left them in a boarding school when they
were children and disappeared. Their father has recently died, leaving them a
substantial sum that they feel duty-bound to share with the absent mother.
Their search leads them to a hotel on the outstanding Amalfi Coast near Naples
where they meet a motley collection of people who have secrets to hide: Filippo
(Marc Porel) is a heroin addict, Roberto (Vanni Materassi), the hotel manager,
is having an affair with the resident singer, the amusingly-monikered Stella
Shining (Yvonne Harlow, who claimed to be the great grand-daughter of Jean
Harlow), who is herself smuggling drugs in lipstick tubes, and Roberto's wife
Vanessa (Anna Zinnemann), a lesbian who is having a passionate affair with one
of the hotel guests.
If
things weren't already complicated enough Ursula has psychic abilities that
allow her to see the future. As explained by a conveniently-placed psychiatrist
in the hotel, these powers could have been induced by some unexplained
childhood trauma. Ursula is plagued by bad dreams of gruesome murders, and
visions of her recently-deceased father in bed with other women. Dagmar may be
falling in love with Filippo, who Ursula claims will be responsible for her own
death, but Filippo is obsessed with Stella Shining. Into this already
convoluted setup stalks a black-gloved murderer, a familiar figure from Italian
giallo movies, who watches people have sex and then kills them with a
giant phallus. This provides director Enzo Miloni with endless opportunities to
show as much nudity as he could get away with, which was quite a lot.
Apparently when The Sister of Ursula was released, it was shown in some
cinemas with hardcore inserts. Even with those removed it is still quite strong
stuff.
With
a title that makes one expect a film about nuns, this was Enzo Miloni's
directorial debut. Primarily known as a writer, he made this film at the
request of the producer in order to get his own pet project, which was to start
Dirk Bogarde, off the ground. Despite all the sleaze and murder, the film is
mainly a melodrama and feels like something you would find when flicking
through the channels one morning on your hotel TV whilst on holiday. It is shot
with very little verve or creativity. The camera was mainly set on a tripod and
then just left at that height for the rest of the movie. Occasionally we see
close-ups of a sinister pair of eyes in the shadows, but otherwise there is
very little distinctiveness visually. The plots and sub-plots become confusing,
with enough to provide narrative ideas for at least three movies. This is
perhaps a symptom of Miloni's first love of writing for the theatre.
Anyone
familiar with the Italian giallo will have seen most of what is here in other,
better movies. What perhaps sets this one apart is the stronger focus on sex,
with Shameless selling it as a "proto porno giallo". The image
quality is what one would expect from a film shot on location using cheap film
stock, that is to say flat and not particularly sharp. The blood still looks
bright red however. The DVD features a half-hour interview with the director
from 2008, and watching it may make you feel warmer towards the film than you
did before. He clearly enjoyed the experience and remained friends with the
cast, and expresses his intentions and frustrations with the project well. He
reveals that Marc Porel was a drug addict in real life, and explains how they
dealt with this this during the shoot. The star of one of Italy's greatest
crime thrillers, Live Like a Cop, Die Like a Man (1976, Ruggero
Deodato), Porel sadly died at the age of just 34 from a drug overdose whilst
shooting commercials in Morocco.
Shameless
have released this DVD in a limited edition of just 2000 numbered copies.
Featuring new artwork from genre specialist Graham Humphries (with a reversible
sleeve featuring the original Italian artwork), the aforementioned interview,
the theatrical trailer (revealing that some scenes were shot for an alternate
version where clothes remained on) and lots of trailers for other Shameless DVD
releases. Shameless are specialists when it comes to releasing trashy European
cinema that other companies would steer well clear of, and for that they are to
be congratulated.
Previously
only available on a R1 DVD from Serverin Films, you can now buy The Sister of
Ursula on Amazon UK by clicking here.
You may think that the American drive-in movie theater has gone the way of the do-do bird and The Knack. However, there are still a surprising number of drive-ins operating, primarily in rural area where the price of real estate isn't so prohibitively expensive. One of the drive-ins of interest to Cinema Retro readers is the Mahoning Drive-in located in Leighton, PA, not too far from the New Jersey border. What makes the theater unique is the owner's quest to concentrate solely on classic and cult films shown in 35mm. You can forget seeing the latest Adam Sandler flick here. This is for lovers of old sci-fi and horror films. The theater has been working with Exhumed Films to continually find sources for good 35mm prints in order to keep retro film festivals alive. For more on the theater and its history, click here.
(If you know of a theater that specializes in retro-based film programming, you can send the details to: cinemaretro@hotmail.com. Please ensure that there is a current web page the article can link to.)
Cinema Retro has received the following press release:'
The
History Press is delighted to announce that it will be publishing Some
Kind of Hero this October.
For over 50 years, Albert R.
Broccoli’s Eon Productions has navigated the ups and downs of the volatile
British film industry, enduring both critical wrath and acclaim in equal
measure for its now legendary James Bond series. Latterly, this family-run
business has been crowned with box office gold and recognised by motion picture
academies around the world. However, it has not always been plain sailing.
Changing tax regimes forced 007 to
relocate to France and Mexico; changing fashions and politics led to box office
disappointments; and changing studio regimes and business disputes all but
killed the franchise. And the rise of competing action heroes has constantly
questioned Bond’s place in popular culture. But against all odds the filmmakers
continue to wring new life from the series, and 2012’s Skyfall saw both huge critical and commercial success, crowning 007
as the undisputed king of the action genre.
Written
by Bond scholars Matthew Field and Ajay Chowdhury, Some Kind of Hero is
based on over
100 new interviews
with the stars, directors, writers, filmmakers, studio executives and the men
who played James Bond. The authors have also drawn upon archives of rare and
unpublished material from around the world.
Some Kind of Hero is the culmination of many years researching and
interviewing the talented individuals
responsible for bringing the James Bond films to the screen. Authors Field and
Chowdhury commented: ‘As we delved deeper into the Bond mythos, we realised
there were many untold tales from many unsung heroes who played key creative
roles in the series. We hope that even the most devoted Bond fans will find
fascinating facets to the franchise in these pages. We have gained a new
appreciation of not only how the series was started but how that Rolls-Royce
standard has been maintained. When SPECTRE
is released later this year, we hope readers will gain some insight in yet
another chapter in the remarkable story of the James Bond films.’
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
MATTHEW FIELD began his writing
career with The Making of The Italian Job.
He has since co-produced a feature length documentary about the film for
Paramount Pictures. In 2008 he penned the autobiography of Oscar-winning film
producer Michael Deeley, Blade Runners,
Deer Hunters and Blowing the Bloody Doors Off! Field’s James Bond
journalism has appeared in Mi6
Confidential and Kiss Kiss Bang Bang.
He is a regular contributor to Cinema
Retro. In 2012, he served as editorial consultant on MGM’s feature length
documentary, Everything or Nothing.
Matthew currently works for a leading film-marketing agency. His most recent
feature film credits include Stephen Frears’ The Program, Michael Winterbottom’s The Face of an Angel and the Australian period drama, The Dressmaker.
AJAY
CHOWDHURY was born in London and read Law at university there
and in The Netherlands. He has since provided legal advice on various motion
picture, music, publishing, television and theatrical projects. He was the
associate producer on two feature films, Lost
Dogs and Flirting with Flamenco. In
2012, he penned the screenplay to the multi-award winning, Olympic-themed
short, A Human Race. Ajay is the
spokesperson for The James Bond International Fan Club, established in 1979. He
edited their James Bond journal, Kiss
Kiss Bang Bang, and for the last two decades has contributed to numerous
books and magazines on the James Bond legacy. He is regularly called upon by
worldwide media to commentate on all things 007.
CLICK HERE TO PRE-ORDER FROM AMAZON UK (NOT AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER IN THE U.S. YET)
Nurse Coffy (Pam Grier) grieves over a sister ruined by
drugs and takes murderous revenge on the pimps and pushers who victimized her.
When her former policeman boyfriend is beaten for refusing to take bribes,
Coffy blasts her way up the corruption trail to drug kingpin Arturo Vitroni (Allan
Arbus) and the fabulous pimp master King George (Robert DoQui). But her
disillusion is complete when she discovers that her classy politician boyfriend
Howard Brunswick (Booker Bradshaw) is also part of the syndicate. Considering “Coffy
“was made on a shoestring budget, the film still works very well, which is
probably down to Jack Hill’s witty, jive talking script and fine direction. The
action is great, probably some of the best to ever emerge from the
Blaxploitation / Soul Cinema genre.
The film’s audio is presented in its original
uncompressed mono, which is clear and very acceptable. The masterful soundtrack
(produced, composed, and arranged) by Roy Ayers is allowed to flow naturally.
Free from any forced tweaking, the film unfolds better for it - while also
keeping the purists among us completely satisfied.
Pam Grier as Coffy: the cover story for Cinema Retro issue #31.
The disc's extras are also very impressive.
Writer-director Jack Hill’s audio commentary is both enthusiastic and
informative. Hill doesn't pause for a second, continuously narrating each shot
with production stories, background information on cast and crew and an
incredibly interesting insight into the whole social scene including racism and
feminist issues – it is both a joy and a first-hand education. Other bonus
extras include:
“A Taste of Coffy“– is a brand new interview with Jack
Hill, a few stories are repeated from the audio commentary, but there is also a
lot of additional material to digest.
“The Baddest Chick in Town!†– A brand new interview
with Pam Grier on Coffy and its follow up, Foxy Brown is a great little
featurette and full of fascinating stories.
The original theatrical trailer and an image gallery
are also included.
There is also a very good video essay, simply titled
‘Blaxploitation!’, presented by author Mikel J. Koven. I thought this would be the weakest link among
the extras, but I was pleasantly surprised – it’s actually a joy from start to
finish and had me hanging on to every word. The presentation is also packed
with stills and lots of beautifully produced film posters that were
representative of the genre.
Arrow have provided an
informative booklet and produced a very cool, reversible sleeve featuring
original and newly commissioned artwork by Gilles Vranckx – Overall, it’s all
just about perfect.
"COFFY" WILL BE RELEASED ON 6 APRIL. CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM AMAZON UK
When,
in a fit of ire, the ageing Countess Elizabeth (Ingrid Pitt) lashes out at her
inept maid, she inadvertently discovers that the virginal girl’s blood harbours
properties able to restore her youthful beauty. Slaying the girl and bathing in
her blood, Elizabeth deigns to assume the identity of her own daughter, Ilona
(Lesley-Anne Down), who has not been seen at the castle since being shipped off
to boarding school as a child. But no sooner has Elisabeth met and fallen in
love with handsome soldier Imre Toth (Sandor Eles), than she realises that the
regenerative effects of the maid’s blood are far from permanent and she is only
able to sustain her façade by seeking fresh donors to fend off her true, haggard
appearance. Finding a willing accomplice in her faithful companion, Captain
Dobi (Nigel Green), the slaying begins.
The
shortcomings of Jeremy Paul’s slightly lethargic and excessively talky Countess Dracula script can be all but
forgiven due to a magnetic performance by Ingrid Pitt, who overcomes
questionable post-synch dubbing to be both sensuously provocative in her
younger incarnation and frighteningly sadistic (under the increasingly
unpleasant layers of Tom Smith’s crone make-up) in her foul, older guise. If there’s
less engaging input from Sandor Eles and Lesley Anne-Down, that too is
compensated for by excellent character work from Nigel Green (in his
penultimate big screen role) and Maurice Denham as a scholarly elder whose
discovery of Elisabeth’s secret pegs him for an early exit.
In
spite of a few failings – not least its outrageously misleading title, which
would certainly have had audiences anticipating some fanged action – Countess Dracula is a lush fairy-tale
accompanied by a silken Harry Robinson score which in summation, though not
perhaps as worthy of frequent revisit as some of the Hammer classics, is estimable
enough evidence of their Gothic cinema supremacy.
Countess Dracula is now
available in the UK as a Region B Blu-Ray release as a constituent of Network
Distributing’s “The British Film†collection. The hi-definiton transfer is
pleasing if not perfect, with occasional minor damage and a fair amount of
grain in evidence during darker scenes. It is, however, still a marked improvement
on Network’s earlier DVD release. The generous supplementary features are
carried over from said DVD, specifically comprising a commentary track
featuring Ingrid Pitt, Kim Newman and Stephen Jones, a TV interview with Pitt
and a news item on a Bray studios open day back in the late 90s, an episode of
the 1970 TV show Conceptions of Murder (starring
Nigel Green), an episode of the recently deceased Brian Clemens’ excellent TV series
Thriller (showcasing yet another fine
Pitt performance) and a number of stills galleries.
(This review pertains to the UK Region 2 video releases).
BY ADRIAN SMITH
Michael
Armstrong, the writer and star of Eskimo Nell,once said, "It's hard
to wank and laugh at the same time". In the 1970s filmmakers gave it a
very good try however, and the British sex comedy was virtually the only kind
of film being funded. The problem is
that the majority of them were neither funny or sexy. They were generally
grubby and embarrassing for the actors and the audience. One of the pioneers of
the British sex film was director and producer Stanley Long, responsible for The
Wife Swappers (1969) and Adventures of a Taxi Driver (1975) and many
others. An occasional cinematographer on prestigious films like Roman
Polanski's Repulsion (1965), Long often recognised and nurtured new
talent, particularly if he could see a financial reward.
Michael
Armstrong had written The Sex Thief for Martin Campbell (1975), a film that
Stanley Long admired, so he approached the two of them with an idea for making
a film based on the pornographic poem Eskimo Nell. Realising that the concept
was so pornographic it was unfilmable, Armstrong decided to pen a tale of
young, idealistic filmmakers trying to make a film in 1970s Britain. Armstrong
wrote himself in as the director, fresh out of film school. After being
rejected by the major studios, he finds himself hired by Benny U. Murdoch (Roy
Kinnear), a sleazy producer who is obsessed with making a sex film based on the
poem Eskimo Nell. In an attempt to raise the finance, they end up agreeing to
make various different versions: a pornographic film, a kung-fu musical, a gay
cowboy epic and a wholesome family film, each with a different star. Inevitably
chaos ensues, along the way spoofing virtually the entire British film
industry, Mary Whitehouse and the Legion of Decency, and the very establishment
itself.
Eskimo Nell is a fantastic
snapshot of Britain in the 1970s, and also manages to be utterly hilarious. The
cast includes porn pin-up Mary Millington and TV stars Christopher Biggins, Doctor
Who's Katy Manning and Christopher Timothy, best known as the vet from All
Creatures Great and Small. Some of the comedy is dated, it often manages to
be tasteless, and is probably offensive in its use of camp gay stereotypes, but
the film gets away with it all thanks to the filmmakers' irreverent attitude. Eskimo
Nell is not only Britain's best sex comedy, but also one of the finest
satires of the film industry ever made. Michael Armstrong was an experienced
film director himself, having made horror films including Mark of the Devil
(1970) under very difficult circumstances. Martin Campbell went on to achieve
fame as director of two Bond Films, GoldenEye (1995) and Casino
Royale (2006), putting his sex film history far behind him.
88
Films have released the film in both DVD and Blu-ray versions, utilising a new
transfer of a 35mm print from the BFI archive. A booklet about the film is
included, written by genre historian Simon Sheridan, who also discusses the
film with Michael Armstrong on an entertaining commentary track. Eskimo Nell
is a terrific film and this new release is a reminder that it was indeed
possible to laugh at a sex film.
Warner Home Video has made good on its promise to rectify some glitches on its otherwise magnificent recent release of the entire "Batman" TV series. Two episodes were accidentally included that were incomplete. The "Marsha's Scheme of Diamonds" episode was missing its epilogue and the "Hi Diddle Riddle" episode lacked its opening narration. Additionally, some fans complained that Warner's did not include the very brief tags at the end of episodes that promoted who the villain would be in the next telecast. Anyone who purchased the set on either Blu-ray or DVD was invited to register for replacement discs, which have now been sent out. In addition to providing complete versions of the aforementioned episodes, the two new discs also have an extended bonus section featuring the previously missing "villains" promos. Additionally, Warner's has included a couple of brief but cool bonus segments that weren't included on the original release. These are a promotion advising viewers to tune in the for the next evenings broadcast to see the unveiling of some new additions to Batman and Robin's arsenal. These included the Batboat and the Batcycle. Another brief segment is a promo for a rebroadcast of the very first episode of the series.
For more on the "missing footage" advisory, click here for Warner's original press release.
75
Years of Marvel Comics. From the Golden Age to the Silver Screen
Roy Thomas, Josh Baker
Hardcover with fold-out, ribbon bookmark, and four-foot accordion-fold timeline
11.4 x 15.6 in.
712 pages
Published 2014
ISBN: 9783836548458
$200/
£135
75
Years of DC Comics. The Art of Modern Mythmaking
Paul
Levitz
Hardcover
with fold-out, ribbon bookmark
11.4 x 15.6 in.
720 pages
Published 2010
ISBN: 9783836519816
$200/ £135
If you take a look at the top 100 all-time highest worldwide
grossing movies, fifteen of them are either Marvel or DC comic adaptations.
According to Box Office Mojo the third highest grossing film of all time is The
Avengers (2012) at over a billion and a half dollars. Comics, it would
seem, are major players in the world of entertainment.
Seventy-five years ago it was all very different. Comics were
for children and were disregarded as both an entertainment medium and as an art
form. Comics were disposable. Because of their ephemeral nature surviving early
copies now trade hands for vast sums. Buying the first appearance of Superman
or Batman will set you back a cool $1-2 million. Thankfully, if you want to
hold the history of these comics in your hands without having to cash in your
life insurance, Taschen have released huge and lavish tributes that, once
opened, will send you whirling back through time to your own childhood and
beyond.
Four years ago Taschen published 75
Years of DC Comics. The Art of Modern Mythmaking, and
it was one of the biggest books this writer had ever seen. So heavy it comes in
a cardboard carrying case with handle, it is crammed with fantastic full-size
reproductions and blown up panels from classic comics and long-forgotten
strips. The dating used here suggests that DC began in 1935, with a comic
called New Fun. DC's most famous sons, Superman and Batman, did not make their
first appearances until 1938 and 1939 respectively. The book is divided into
sections; The Stone Age, The Golden Age, The Silver Age, The Bronze Age, The
Dark Age and The Modern Age, and each begins with shiny toughened pages. By
discussing some of the things that were going on in the comic industry outside
of DC, one can look at their development in context. There are also fold-out detailed
timelines in each section with a year-by-year breakdown including major world
events.
The book is also a reminder that DC weren't always about
superheroes. Alongside our spandex-wearing favourites were western comics,
science fiction, military comics, funny animals, exotic adventurers, gangsters
and detectives. There are other big names which have been somewhat forgotten by
now, such as Captain Marvel, Will Eisner's The Spirit (despite an ill-advised
attempt to being him back in a 2008 movie), Plastic Man, Starman and The
Spectre. Even supporting characters occasionally got their own comics, such as Superman's Pal Jimmy Olsen
("See Jimmy turn into The Giant Turtle Man!") and Superman's Girl Friend Lois
Lane, the latter demonstrating that comics could appeal to both boys and
girls.
Also honoured are the many writers and artists who have built up
the world of DC comics over the years, from Jerry Seigel and Joe Schuster, the
creators of Superman, through to more modern writers like Alan Moore, who with Watchmen
in 1986 changed the perception of what the comic book could achieve.
Of course DC has made a major impact beyond the comics, something
which is included here. It is fun to see some of the toys and games kids would
be desperate to collect, as well as imagery from the many movies and TV shows
they inspired, including serials The Adventures of Superman (1948) and Batman
and Robin (1949) as well as perhaps the greatest example of 1960s pop
culture, the televised Batman series starring Adam West and Burt Ward (recently
released on DVD and Blu-ray by Warner Brothers); a comic strip brought to life
in full technicolour.
75 Years of DC Comics. The Art of Modern Mythmaking is a book that will most-likely take you the rest of your life to
read and enjoy. For those who prefer something a little smaller to read,
Taschen has also released separate volumes titled The Golden Age of DC
Comics and The Silver Age of DC Comics.
It was only a matter of time before Taschen would give Marvel the
same treatment, and 2014 marks their seventy-fifth anniversary. In 1939 Marvel
really hit the ground running, publishing a comic featuring a collection of
tales featuring amongst others The Human Torch (in this version an android) and
Sub-mariner, both of whom are still popular today. Coinciding with the
beginnings of war in Europe, a conflict which would eventually spread around
the globe, Marvel's comics reflected the fears and ambitions of military
conflict. Sub-mariner became the first superhero to fight Nazis in 1940, and in
1941 Captain America leapt into the fight, literally. On the front cover of his
first issue he is proudly punching Hitler in the face, star-spangled shield to
the fore. This was so controversial at the time that protestors marched on the
Marvel headquarters in New York!
That same year Stanley Leiber was hired at Marvel as a general
assistant and gofer whilst still a teenager. Within two weeks he was
commissioned to write a Captain America story. Signing the story "Stan
Lee", within eight months he was an editor and he went on to become one of
the most important figures in the comic book world. Stan Lee is responsible for
the creation of dozens of classic comic characters including The Fantastic
Four, Spider-Man, Iron Man, The X-Men and many more. It is mostly his creations
that now dominate Hollywood, particularly since the creation of the Marvel film
studios in 1996 and their subsequent purchase by Disney in 2009 for a mere $4
billion.
Stan Lee was not the only genius working at Marvel, and the book covers
work by many of the fantastic writers and artists employed over the last
seventy-five years including Jack Kirby, John Romita and Steve Ditko. The
author of this Marvel history himself, Roy Thomas, served as a Marvel editor
from 1965-80 and had runs on The Avengers, The Incredible Hulk, Conan
the Barbarian and many more.
75 Years of Marvel Comics. From the Golden Age to the Silver
Screen gives us a thorough history of the company and their comics.
There is a detachable four-foot long double-sided timeline giving a
year-by-year history not only of Marvel but comic book development in general.
Obviously a lot of space in the book is devoted to their most beloved
characters, including Thor, Hulk, Silver Surfer, Daredevil and The Avengers
alongside those already mentioned. Like the DC book before it, it is also fun
to discover many other characters and stories that one may have missed, with
names like Werewolf By Night, Captain
Britain, Sgt. Fury and His Howling
Commandoes, Dr. Strange (recently announced as another Marvel movie) and
Luke Cage, the first black superhero. Marvel also published "girls
comics" such as My Love and Our Love Story and created female
superheroes like The Cat, Black Widow and Elektra.
In the
late 1960s some of their comics went psychedelic, and in the 1970s Marvel began
to experiment with some fairly edgy material, such as the sleazy Howard the
Duck, the horror-enthused Tomb of Dracula
or the violent adventures of Conan the Barbarian. The artwork was always
excellent and is beautifully reproduced here.
Despite
an early Captain America movie serial
in 1944, Marvel's comics were not used as material for a theatrical movie again
until 1986, with the disastrous George Lucas-produced Howard the Duck. It was not until the movie version of Blade (1998) and X-Men (2000) that the real movie boom began. Perhaps
special-effects technology had finally caught up with the imaginations of
Marvel's writers and artists. However some of their characters had found
success on American television, most memorably with the Bill Bixby/ Lou
Ferrigno-starring The Incredible Hulk
(1978). This was produced by CBS who were also responsible for the TV movies of
Captain America (1979) and The Amazing Spider-Man (1977), imagery
from which can also be found in this book.
Spider-Man
first appeared in a Marvel comic in 1962. Whether posing on the White House
lawn with First Lady Rosalynn Carter in 1980 or appearing alongside Barack
Obama in a 2009 issue of The Amazing
Spider-Man, the web-slinger has become closely associated with the real
world, and in particular the city of New York. His youth and quips have made
him one of Marvel's most popular heroes, and in a moving December 2001 issue he
was forced to confront the horrors of 9/11. Unlike DC characters who mainly live
in fictional cities or worlds, the Marvel universe exists amidst our own.
Taschen's
books are a fitting tribute to the worlds of DC and Marvel and the people who
brought these incredible worlds to life week after week. One can only hope that
both companies will continue producing comics and stories for at least another
seventy-five years each.
(This review pertains to the UK Region 2 DVD release)
Alongside
the recent BFI release of the BBC television series Out of the Unknown
comes this oddity; the only completely surviving episode of Out of This World,
a science fiction series produced in the early 1960s by independent television
channel ABC. The series was created by Irene Shubick and produced by Leonard
White, who would achieve lasting fame through his co-creating The Avengers.
Like other anthology shows before it such as Armchair Theatre, this was
conceived as an opportunity to present a variety of quality writing to
mainstream audiences. It was Shubick's belief that science fiction contained
some of the 'most original and philosophical ideas' in modern fiction.
Boris
Karloff was employed as the presenter for the show. By this time he was
seventy-five but was still regularly working in both the US and the UK despite
deteriorating health. He was no stranger to the anthology format, having
previously hosted the shows The Veil (1958) and Thriller
(1960-1962), the latter running to sixty-seven episodes. Out of This World
itself only ran to thirteen episodes, despite being a success at the time.
Irene Shubick was poached by the BBC where she was able to spend the next
several years working on her love for science fiction by producing the
aforementioned Out of the Unknown, that time not using a presenter.
Sadly,
due to budgetary constraints, it was common for television recordings to be
erased after broadcasts, so only one episode of Out of This World
remains, an adaptation of Isaac Asimov's Little Lost Robot. As with all
of Asimov's robotic tales, the story deals with the problems that arise when
the rules governing robot behaviour are tampered with. When an irritated
engineer tells a highly-sophisticated robot to, "Get lost!" this is
exactly what it does. Obeying every instruction, it proceeds to blend in with a
hanger full of identical robots. However, as this robot had its rule to not
allow harm to come to humans revoked, this poses something of a problem for
those in charge. Dr Susan Calvin, a robot psychologist, is called in to devise
a series of tests which will allow her to flush out the real lost robot in
order that the whole batch need not be destroyed. Despite the small sets and
slightly laughable robot costumes, it is an intriguing tale.
Fragments
of other episodes have survived, and in attempt to be the most complete release
possible the BFI have included them here: an audio recording of Cold Equations,
starring Peter Wyngarde and Jane Asher, and an incomplete audio recording of
Imposter, an adaptation of a Philip K. Dick story which would later become a
Hollywood movie in 2001. Also included is the shooting script for Dumb Martian,
adapted from John Wyndham, and a brand new audio commentary with the series
producer Leonard White. White, now aged 98, is on remarkable form and has an
excellent memory for his work in British television. Rounding out the DVD
package is a booklet containing a full history of Out of This World
including plot details for each episode.
Leonard White, photographed at age 95 at a UK "Avengers" event.
(Photo copyright Adrian Smith. All rights reserved.)
This
latest BFI release is the last in their current "Sci-Fi: Days of Fear and
Wonder" season and is a must for completists and genre fans, and
demonstrates that TV science fiction in the 1960s could be more than just
Doctor Who.
Ian Ogilvy in his latest film, "We Still Kill the Old Way", now available on Blu-ray and DVD.
Ian Ogilvy: Saints, Sorcerers and Secret Agents
Cinema Retro's Mark Mawston recently caught up with the legendary Ian Ogilvy to discuss projects past and present.
Mark Mawston: Ian, your film career began in the mid
60’s with The She Beast, directed by Michael Reeves. You had a great
relationship with him. How did that come about?
Ian Ogilvy: Well, when we were 15 years old we made
a couple of amateur movies together after we were introduced by a mutual friend
and we became great friends. I used to stay at his mother’s house with him in
Norfolk and over two years we made these two little amateur movies. I then lost
contact with him as I went off and did different things like attending drama
school and he went off and did lots of assistant director jobs and general “go-foringâ€
jobs in the movie industry. Then one day my English agent said “Have you heard
of a guy called Michael Reeves? He wants you to play the lead in his first
film!†So, as it turned out, he hadn’t forgotten me and I hadn’t forgotten him
and that’s how it came about.
MM: You seemed to be Reeves’ muse,
appearing in all three of his finished films (The She Beast, The Sorcerers and the
classic Witchfinder General). Through those films you worked with two of horror’s
greatest stars, Boris Karloff and Vincent Price. What can you tell us about
that?
IO: Well I wasn’t really his muse. The
thing about Michael was that he couldn’t really direct actors. He didn’t
understand what acting was all about so he left them pretty much alone. He only
liked to work with actors he knew and trusted. I simply became the actor he
trusted and that’s how we worked together. As for working with Boris, well he
was a complete delight, the most charming, courteous old man id ever met in my
life and quite funny, too. He always tried to do his best. Vincent on the other
hand, well its quite well known that he was an unhappy actor when doing this
film (Witchfinder General a.k.a The
Conqueror Worm) and really didn’t want to be there. He didn’t like Michael and
didn’t like the way he was being treated by Michael but still gave, I think,
one of his best ever performances in that movie. So Michael was right and he
was wrong. I didn’t have much to do with either of them bar meeting regarding
each film but other than that, didn’t really come across them. My knowledge of
Vincent specifically isn’t that great as I didn’t spend a lot of time working
with him. Our paths and parts ran parallel yet different, if you know what I
mean.
MM: Yes I believe the famous put down by
Reeves to Price;
Price: “Young
Man, I have made over a hundred films, how many have you made�
Reeves: “ Three good ones†cleared the air and led to, I agree, one of
Prices best performances.
Witchfinder General
After this you worked on Waterloo with
Christopher Plummer, Jack Hawkins and Orson Welles. Did you spend time with the
great orator?
IO: Orson Welles spent one day on set and it
was miles away from where I was! His entire role was shot in one or two days,
filmed in Italy or somewhere. I didn’t get to meet Rod Steiger, either, as
there was no need to because they got all the French actors to come in and do
their stuff, then get the British actors in. There was no particular reason for
us to meet. Although I do wish I’d met Orson Welles. I don’t think anyone did!
MM: What was the overall experience working
on Waterloo, as it was so different in set-up and sheer scale?
IO: Well, the sheer scale was enormous. It was a vast project. It
couldn’t be done today, or if it was, it would all be CGI. We had over 25,000
extra’s which was The Red army, The Russian army. We were given whole
regiments. The Director Sergei Bondarchuk had made War and Peace a few years earlier, an 8 or 9 hour epic using
the same soldiers so they all knew about dressing up in uniforms (laughs). It
was a huge film, the biggest I’ve ever been involved with.
Waterloo
MM: You’ve starred in some of the most
beloved cult TV shows, such as The Avengers and Ripping Yarns. Did you prefer
TV and did it give you more scope as an actor?
IO: When people ask actors that they tend
to say it would be films for the money, TV for the regular bread and butter,
which is what you did the most in order to give yourself a decent living and the
theatre for the material, as the material is always better than TV or
film. I loved doing films but they
didn’t come around as often as TV shows. TV was a general staple in those days,
if not now, though things have changed . Back then , if you’d looked at TV from
6:00 PM in the evening until late at night when it stopped, TV would be
employing actors. Now it just seems to be quiz shows, cooking shows and so-called
reality shows. We, as young actors, had more opportunity than they do now. I
liked TV, as it gave me my daily bread.
MM: Were you approached by The Pythons for
Ripping Yarns?
IO: (laughs) I don’t know to be honest with
you! I think I may have gone and read for them or they knew me from before. I
hardly remember how I got that, but it was a joyous job.
MM: It was on again recently and holds up
wonderfully and your turn in it was especially good. Bar long running series
Upstairs Downstairs, you’re most recognized for your role as Simon Templer in
Return of The Saint. How did that come about? Did producer Bob Baker spot you?
IO: No, it was Bob’s wife who spotted me in
Upstairs Downstairs and said “Bob, if you ever do another Saint, that guy would
be good†which was odd really, as my character in that program was so weak, so effeminate,
that I was surprised she made the connection. Still, Bob trusted her judgment
and his agent called me and Bob took me to dinner and asked that- if he did get
a new series off the ground- would I be willing to do it? I said “Sureâ€, but I
forgot all about it for several years, as I didn’t hear anything back. Then in
the late 70’s, all of a sudden, it came back again and he managed to raise the
money, as he’d managed to get Lord Lew
Grade to back it. So it happened after talking about it all those years before.
Return of the Saint
MM: It shows your range as an actor, that
you can play a total fop and yet still be seen as an all action hero
After Warner Home Entertainment released all 120 episodes of the classic "Batman" TV series, fans began complaining that a couple of episodes were incomplete. Warner Home Entertainment acknowledges that less than five minutes of footage is missing from a set that presents over 50 hours of episodes and bonus materials. The company has promised to replace the affected discs in January, as well as provide additional bonus materials. For the full story and a link to the form for obtaining replacement discs, click here.
(The following review is of
the UK DVD release of the film, on Region 2 format)
‘Just for You’ is a time
capsule of the British pop music scene in the early 1960s. It was made and released
in the UK in 1964 and the official press release from Network describes the DVD
as follows: ‘This ultra-rare musical film of 1966 tells the story of a rock ‘n’
roll hopeful searching for his big break […] Following the young singer as he
goes from studio to studio with his girlfriend and attempts to convince radio
and TV executives to play his song, ‘Just for You’ becomes a showcase for a
host of sixties musical talent’. This is
actually the plot of the 1966 American edition of the film, under the title
‘Discotheque Holiday’ (sometimes listed as ‘Disk-O-Tek Holiday’). What Network
has released is the original UK release of the film, ‘Just for You’, named
after the Freddie and the Dreamers’ song. The UK version was directed by
Douglas Hickox and doesn’t include the added US scenes directed by Vince Scarza
(with the budding singer played by Casey Paxton).
In the original UK version,
we get layabout impresario Sam Costa (played by comedian, disk jockey and
singer Sam Costa) lying in bed, his every whim tended by his fully-automated
computerised home help, while he entertains himself (and us) by running clips
of various pop acts on a projector in his private screening room. Yes, it’s
that simple.
The links of Costa smoking
a cigar, wisecracking and at one point attempting to eat an animated haggis,
are diverting, but are really just that: links. The main point of the film is wonderfully
vivid Eastman Colour footage of a mixed bag of guitar bands, individual singers,
vocal groups and novelty pop acts performing their songs on a selection of interior
and exterior standing sets at Shepperton Studios.
The full set list is:
Faye Craig: ‘Bongo Baby’
The Applejacks: ‘Tell Me
When’
Al Saxon: ‘Mine All Mine’
A Band of Angels: ‘Hide ‘n’
Seek’
The Orchids: ‘Mr Scrooge’
The Bachelors: ‘The Fox’
Doug Sheldon: ‘Night Time’
Caroline Lee, Roy Sone and
Judy Jason: ‘Teenage Valentino’
Peter and Gordon: ‘Leave Me
Alone’
Freddie and the Dreamers:
‘You Were Made for Me’
Millie Small: ‘Sugar Dandy’
Jackie and the Raindrops:
‘Loco-motion’
Mark Wynter: ‘I Wish you
Everything’
Johnny B. Great: ‘If I had
a Hammer’
Peter and Gordon: ‘Soft as
the Dawn’
Faye Craig: ‘Voodoo’
The Warriors: ‘Don’t Make
Me Blue’
Louise Cordet: ‘It’s So
Hard to be Good’
The Merseybeats: ‘Milk’
The Bachelors: ‘Low the
Valley’
Freddie and the Dreamers:
‘Just for You’
What’s most apparent in
this film and these performances is that the influence of The Beatles and the
jangly Merseybeat sound is everywhere, even in the female singers – from
lyrical content and acoustics, to clothing choices and hairstyles. Several of
the acts here sport matching black or grey suits. Beatles moptop haircuts are everywhere.
Peter and Gordon’s ‘Soft as the Dawn’ closely resembles The Fab Four’s ‘And I
Love Her’. The Applejacks and the Merseybeats songs are patterned on Beatles
melodies and harmonies. ‘The Orchids’ are a Fab Three, a trio of girls whose
snowy rendition of ‘Mr Scrooge’ looks like an outtake from ‘Help!’, with the
girls’ black attire and red and white striped scarves, and has a Phil
Spector-ish sound. ‘A Band of Angels’ rasping ‘Hide ‘n’ Seek’ has the lads decked
out in silver suits and straw boaters, but their sound is defined by sandpaper
vocals and jagged rhythms – it’s one of the best songs in the film. ‘Dollybirds’
stare vacantly off into the distance throughout their performance; dressed in
leather gear from ‘Continental Fashions’, they look to have wandered in from
Antonioni’s ‘Blowup’. During two numbers – one involving a snooker table (the
rollicking skiffle shuffle of ‘The Fox’) and another wearing matching grey
suits (the ballad ‘Low the Valley’) – the Bachelors demonstrate why they
remained single. Doug Sheldon’s low-key ‘Night Time’ has the singer strolling
beside a shadowy studio mock-up of the River Thames, while Mark Wynter’s
purposeful ballad ‘I Wish you Everything’ is a bit Roy Orbison.
Much livelier are the girls.
Caroline Lee and Judy Jason don red Scottish tartan capes and caps to enact ‘Teenage
Valentino’, their tale of disinterest in a self-obsessed bloke. Roy Sone is the
handsome, narcissistic object of his own desires. The insightful lyrics – ‘Big
man, lover boy, teenage Valentino’ – are attributed to Nolly Clapton and Mercy
Hump. Quirky Louise Cordet (wearing a Shimmyshake Dress by Alice Edwards) is
the party-loving girl trying to behave, but finding ‘It’s so Hard to be Good’
and shrill-voiced Millie’s ‘Sugar Dandy’ is brassy, poppy and ear-splitting. Faye
Craig dances exotically to ‘Bongo Baby’ and ‘Voodoo’ (by Johnny Arthey, one of
the best pieces of music in the movie, with bongos and guitar). The lovely
Jackie and her cardiganed Raindrops perform Goffin-King’s ‘Loco-motion’ among
the commuters on a studio-bound train platform.
The Network DVD has excellent
picture quality and is presented in its original aspect ratio of 1.66:1 (that’s
black bars at the sides of the picture for 16:9 screens). The original trailer
and an image gallery are included as extras, plus a pdf of promotional
material. If you can track down the American edit, ‘Discotheque Holiday’, you’ll
find it features additional performances for US fans, including The Chiffons,
Rockin’ Ramrods and The Vagrants. ‘Just for You’ is a pop nostalgia-fest
showcasing the great, the good, the overlooked and the somewhat forgotten of 1964.
The rare clips will be lapped up by anyone with an interest in the music and
style of the era. It’s fab and gear.
Merchants
of Menace: The Business of Horror Cinema
Edited
by Richard Nowell
Bloomsbury
Publishing
264
pages. Illustrated
229 x 152 mm
ISBN: 9781623564209
REVIEW BY ADRIAN SMITH
Many books have been written about
the horror genre, from almost every conceivable perspective. Here however, is a
somewhat different approach: the horror industry as an economy. Films, after
all, require finance, and whilst artistic decisions are usually at the
forefront of analysis, without the money men in the background cinema as we
know it would not exist today.
Merchants of
Menace, with a
tribute to William Castle on its cover, attempts to give the reader a history
of the horror genre from the 1930s Universal cycle through to the American
remakes of today. A collection of essays on the horror genre, one will also
find an in-depth look at the re-launch of Hammer as a brand and business
entity, the zombies of Poverty Row and many more. It is a fascinating approach
to the subject and causes the reader to ponder issues in a way they were
probably not thought of before, such as the economic power of atmosphere; what
exactly is atmosphere and how is it defined and turned into a commodity by
filmmakers? Using the unsettling British horror City of the Dead (1960,
U.S. title Horror Hotel) as an example, Robert Spadoni discusses how the
film foregrounds atmosphere over narrative and how the two are often in
conflict with each other.
This collection helps redress the
balance between an understanding of the horror film as an entertainment medium
and as a business. This will be of great interest to fans of the genre, but
also points out wider issues that go beyond horror into the film industry as a
whole. It is often said that you will always make money in the film business
from horror and sex. Perhaps this suggests an obvious direction for Nowell's
future research.
THIS SET SHIPS ON NOVEMBER 11! REMEMBER, THE BLU-RAY SET IS A LIMITED EDITION. ORDER NOW!
"Batman", the classic 1960s TV series, is finally coming to home video after years of legal complications. Warner Home Video will release on Blu-ray and DVD on November 11.
The set will contain all 120 remastered episodes of the the three seasons the show ran and will contain a Batcave full of extras. Among them: a Hotwheels replica of the Batmobile, a letter from Adam West and photos derived from his personal scrapbook and replicas of vintage trading cards.
For more, including a promotional preview, click here.
(This review pertains to the UK Region 2 DVD release.)
Scandinavian
scientist Nils Ahlen (John McCallum) has developed a process via which sound impulses
can be converted into electrical energy. When his wife Helga (Mary Laura Wood)
and assistant Sven (Anthony Dawson) abscond with vital components of the
revolutionary device, Ahlen teams up with Police Inspector Peterson (Jack
Warner) to chase them down. The pursuit takes them into the icy, blizzard-wreathed
wilderness where they seek the assistance of Lapp reindeer herders to help them
survive the perilous terrain.
Written
and directed by thrice Bond-helmer Terence Young more than a decade before he
first brought the celebrated spy to the screen, 1951’s Valley of Eagles was shot over a couple of months in testing
Norwegian weather conditions. The film has taken a fair bit of stick in the
past, the main target of viewer negativity being that what kicks off as a
promising B-grade crime thriller quickly devolves into a life-evaluating
melodrama. A bit disappointing, perhaps, but that doesn’t make it a bad movie,
so – always one to buck the trend – I’m pleased to have the chance to redress
the balance here. There’s no disputing that 60-something years after the fact,
the plotting of Valley of Eagles
could be classed a little mundane; cinema has come a long way in the years
since the picture first saw the light of a projector bulb (though not always
for the better), and mundane is an accusation that could be levelled at a hefty
percentage of the cinematic output of that period. Yet that doesn’t translate
as making it a pointless investment of one’s time.
Young’s
narrative is never less than engaging, peppered as it is with outbursts of brutality
(wolves are vigorously slain with ski poles) and exotic sex appeal (courtesy of
Nadia Gray, hair appealingly braided, as tough Lapp maiden Lara). There’s also
a terrific set piece in which a pack of wolves assail a team of herders astride
reindeer, the wolves themselves then set upon by the titular birds of prey. The
cast does a serviceable job with the material at hand, particularly an
underused Dawson, the consummate shifty-eyed baddie (see also Dial M for Murder, Dr No and Midnight Lace for
similarly sinister turns). Future Dixon
of Dock Green Jack Warner, here bearing a remarkable resemblance to Bernard
Lee, makes for a staunch lead and if McCallum comes across as a little starchy
that’s because the character he’s portraying is. It’s also nice to see an
early, albeit minor appearance by Christopher Lee wearing an amusingly wide-brimmed
hat. The film certainly benefits from its exhaustive, picturesque location
shoot, with some splendid Harry Waxman cinematography on offer (Pinewood-lensed
back projection shows up only occasionally) and suitably dense, if not
especially memorable Nino Rota compositions serve to underscore the gravity of
the onscreen drama.
Valley of Eagles is
available on DVD from Fabulous Films/Freemantle Media. The print utilised has
certainly seen better days, with a surfeit of light scratches and various
accumulations of detritus in evidence throughout. But one should overlook such
deficiencies and be grateful for this DVD premiere of what I’d have no
hesitation in labelling a “golden oldieâ€. The disc supplements are slight, though
still worth perusing, and comprise galleries of hand-coloured lobby cards,
press stills and poster art, along with interesting textual material that one
presumes has been lifted from the original release pressbook.
(The following review is of
the UK release of the film on Region 2 format.)
In Roy Ward Baker’s 1960s
comedy-drama Two Left Feet, Michael
Crawford plays Alan Crabbe, a clumsy and unlucky-in-love 19-year-old who begins
dating ‘Eileen, the Teacup Queen’, a waitress at his local cafe. She lives in Camden Town and there are rumours
that she’s married, but that doesn’t seem to alter her behavior. Alan and
Eileen travel into London’s ‘Floride Club’, where the Storyville Jazzmen play
trad for the groovers and shakers. Eileen turns out to be a ‘right little madam’,
who is really just stringing Alan along. She’s the kind of girl who only dates
to get into places and then starts chatting to randoms once inside. She takes
up with ruffian Ronnie, while Alan meets a nice girl, Beth Crowley. But Eileen holds
a strange hold over Alan and at a wedding celebration of their friends, Brian
and Mavis, they are caught in bed together – which ruins his relationship with
Beth and gets him on the wrong side of Ronnie and his flick-knife.
‘Two Left Feet’ is a pretty
gritty Brit-com of misunderstood youth and romantic entanglements. It’s the
antithesis of Cliff Richard’s day-glow musical fantasies ‘Summer Holiday’ and
‘The Young Ones’, and closer to kitchen sink dramas: the roughness of ‘Beat
Girl’ or the tragicomedy of ‘Billy Liar’. The inspired cast is a major asset,
with several of the roles providing early opportunities for future stars. Michael
Crawford went on to massive fame in the TV series ‘Some Mothers Do ‘Ave ‘Em’as clumsy, socially inept Frank
Spencer. He’s also went on to appear in some very good British film comedies in
the 1960s, including ‘The Knack…and How to Get It’, ‘The Jokers’ and ‘How I Won
the War’. Nyree Dawn Porter, cast as Eileen, was memorable as Irene in TV’s ‘The
Forsyte Saga’. Porter is excellent
here as the sexy seductress and lights up the screen whenever she appears.
Another of the clubgoers is played by David Hemmings, who oozes cool and class
as Brian. Julia Foster, from ‘The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner’ and
‘Alfie’, plays Beth. The
appropriately-named Michael Craze plays psycho Ronnie, Dilys Watling is Brian’s
girl Mavis and Hammer Films’ regular Michael Ripper played her Uncle Reg. Cyril
Chamberlain shows up as garage owner Mr Miles and David Lodge appears Alan’s cocky
co-worker Bill. James Bond’s M crops up
again, with the ubiquitous Bernard Lee playing Alan’s father, a policemen.
British rock ‘n’ roller Tommy Bruce performs the title song, ‘Two Left Feet’, in imitable bellowing style,
while the band in the Cavern-like ‘Floride Club’ is Bob Wallis and His
Storyville Jazzmen.
‘Two Left Feet’ was based
on the 1960 novel ‘In My Solitude’ by David Stewart Leslie. Wide-eyed, but
strangely disillusioned, the protagonists of this story are caught in a period snapshot
between the dour 1950s and the soon-to-be-fab Sixties. The sequences shot in
London, including near the statue of Eros in Piccadilly Circus, locate the film
historically to a very specific time and place. The cinema billboards display
adverts for ‘Lawrence of Arabia’ and ‘How the West Was Won’, but on Alan’s
visits ‘Up West’, he prefers to frequent the more niche ‘Bijou Cinema’, which
is showing Harrison Marks’ nudie feature ‘Naked as Nature Intended’, starring
‘The Fabulous Pamela Green’. The social mores of the era are also to the fore –
when offered a smoke on her way to the club, Eileen is aghast: ‘Cigarette? Not
in the street thank you!’. Membership of the ‘Floride Club’ is 12/6 (a
pre-decimalisation twelve shillings and sixpence) and sensible Alan decides he
can’t get married yet because he’s too young and financially challenged. The
wedding reception has none of the scale of modern wedding celebrations – it’s
just a gathering at a private residence, with a buffet, party games and
sing-song at the piano. The generational gap is keenly delineated in the
relationship between Alan and his father. His father’s generation’s upbringing
was strict – they learned respect, lived by the rules and didn’t question them
– while Alan’s generation is unfettered by such notions. The presumption is
that they can be anything, do anything and be free as air.
‘Two Left Feet’ is part of Network’s
‘The British Film’ collection. It’s another British Lion release shot at
Shepperton Studios and the disc includes an image gallery and promotional
material pdf. It is rated 15 in the UK, presumably for the mild sexual
promiscuity, the prominent use of knives by Ronnie and the beating Alan
receives from Ronnie’s heavies. The film is another interesting 1960s British
film rescued from obscurity and is worth seeing for both Hemmings and Porter,
and the energetic dance moves in the ‘Floride Club’. It’s worth mentioning that
if you like this type of 1960s film, then check out Hemmings’ excellent film ‘Some
People’ (1962), also from Network, with he and Ray Brooks playing bikers who form
a rock ‘n’ roll band.
Soon Bertrand and Cary are
living the highlife in the casino capital of Europe, staying in the royal suite
of the hotel and enjoying a lavish holiday. But Dreuther, who’s supposed to
meet them there on his yacht, is delayed, and after they are married, their spending
money runs out. The pair is reduced to living on coffee and bread rolls, until
the hotel manager notes they aren’t spending much money and are avoiding all
the hotel staff at every opportunity, so he lends them 250,000 francs. Bertrand
is a mathematician who wants to try out his system that he thinks will win him
a fortune on the casino tables. After a marathon gambling stint, Bertrand
arrives back at their hotel room to tell Cary that he’s won five million francs.
With great wealth comes a change in personality for Bertrand and he becomes
preoccupied with the acquisition of money and power, even to the point of
buying shares in SIFA and becoming a force in opposition to Dreuther. But his
single-mindedness drives sweet Cary away, into the arms of pipe-smoking smoothy
Philip. Now Bertrand must win back his bride, or it’s Monte Carlo or Bust (up).
As the trailer put it: ‘Here’s a honeymoon that isn’t all honey’.
This movie is as wafting a
piece of Continental fluff as you can imagine – lovely, old-fashioned cosiness
from a bygone age. Italian heartthrob Rossano Brazzi is the impulsive Latino
lead, Bertrand, while British actress Glynis Johns is his charming bride. Tony
Britton played Philip and Robert Morley plays Robert Morley – as he seemed to
do in all his films – as the company’s all-powerful MD Dreuther. Look fast for
a young Shirley Anne Field as Bertrand’s date in the casino. At the time of the
film’s release, ‘Today’s Cinema’ optimistically noted it ‘Has the zest and zing
of a Mediterranean holiday…if the sun never shines again this year, Loser Takes
All will make up for it’. And the admen went to town on the taglines for this
one too, calling it ‘The warmest, wonderful-est, winning-est romance-of-the-year’
and ‘It’s a spectacular CinemascoPeek inside high society’s swankiest
playground’. With dresses by Christian Dior and a light and airy score from
Alessandro Cicognini, this movie scores best in its visual and aural depiction
of Monaco and especially Monte Carlo. The on-location filming livens up the
plot with its breathtaking scenery as a backdrop. There’s a superb sequence of
Bertrand and Cary riding a Vespa on mountain roads, which lead up to a rustic,
folksy village – a setting in massive contrast to the wealth and splendour of
Monte Carlo. In fact it’s to the simplicity of the village that Cary wants to
return when they strike it rich, but Bertrand is too enamoured with the
highlife. While there’s nothing groundbreaking on display in ‘Loser Takes All’,
it’s a pleasant enough scoot, with a bit of romance, a bit of drama, a bit of
comedy, stirred into the mix. Johns is the best aspect of the film and is
highly watchable as the chirpy, quirky newlywed. Greene’s novel was adapted
again in 1990 as ‘Strike it Rich’, with Robert Lindsay and Molly Ringwald as
Bertrand and Cary, and a cast that included John Gielgud (as Dreuther) and
comedian Max Wall.
‘Loser Takes All’ is presented
in the CinemaScope widescreen format and is ‘a brand-new transfer from the
original film elements’. The colours are strong if you boost the colour on the TV,
but the image seems a little soft and could do with a sharpen. ‘Loser Takes
All’ is another addition to Network’s ‘The British Film’ collection, a
five-year project to release over 450 British films via a deal with
Studiocanal. It’s a British Lion release and the disc includes the original
trailer and a gallery of colourful poster artwork. In 1956, the periodical
‘Daily Film Renter’ deemed it ‘Exhilarating as champagne’. If the lovers’ antics seem a little flat 58
years later, there’s always those gorgeous Eastmancolor Monte Carlo vistas to
enjoy.
I was an avid cinema goer
back in the ‘80s and a normal week could consist of up to four visits to sample
the attractions on offer. Luckily I had a cinema 10 minutes from my house as
well as several others in my home town of Newcastle. My local, “The Jeseyâ€, would show films about
2-3 weeks after their initial run “in town†at the likes of The Odeon which premiered
all the big new releases. However, being a fan of less mainstream films, I
would also venture across the river Tyne to places like Gateshead, Low Fell and
Byker, because these less salubrious cinemas across the water would show the
kind of films you wouldn’t find running in the more mainstream chains. A lot of
these were Cannon cinema’s owned by Golan and Globus (subjects of a new
documentary) or just so run down that they’d run everything from Lemon Popsicle
to Flesh Gordon to lesser known Cannon gems such as Lifeforce and Runaway Train.
It never ceases to amaze me that there were still a couple of low budget (but
big in America) fan favourites that would and should have been shown at these
venues that simply passed me by. Those two films were Night Of The Creeps and Night
Of The Comet, both of which I finally got to see this month- the latter 30
years after its initial release, hopefully long enough to be classed as retro
enough forCinema Retro!
As fortune would have it, Night of the Creeps
had its first UK TV showing on Film Four recently and I really loved this film
(to quote a line from it, it did “Thrill Meâ€.) It was well worth the wait. At
the same time Arrow Video then announced the forthcoming UK Blu-ray and DVD release
of Night of the Comet. I couldn’t
believe my luck. So did the second cult classic of the ‘80s shape up or
disappoint? Well, great films, like comets themselves, only present themselves
every now and again and sometimes burn brighter than they did when first they
first appeared, which is the case here as Night Of The Comet is easily the most
enjoyable film I’ve seen all year.
Synopsis
Eighteen year-old Reggie
(Catherine Mary Stewart – Weekend at Bernie’s, The Last Starfighter) misses out
on the event-of-a-lifetime when she ditches watching the comet in favour of
copping off with the projectionist at the cinema where she works. But this
turns out to be a wise move when, the next day, she discovers that the entire
population has been reduced to piles of red dust – leaving only Reggie, her
sister Sam (Kelli Maroney – Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Chopping Mall) and a
handful of other survivors to fend off the roving gangs of glassy-eyed zombies.
Taking its cue from
classic “doomsday†movies such as The Day of the Triffids and The Omega Man
(and with a healthy dose of Dawn of the Dead thrown in for good measure), Night
of the Comet is an irresistible slice of Reagan-era B-movie fare which features
Cyndi Lauper dance-alongs (these girls just wanna have fun!) as well as some
truly gravity-defying bouffant hairstyles and some superb Zombie make-ups. The
“Zombie-Cop†is an iconic monster from the 80’s, of that there is no doubt. As
always with Arrow, the transfer is top notch, showing off the films amazing
colour pallet and the extras are brilliantly done (such as taking a shot of a
character writing on a note pad and intercutting it with the name of the
documentary, as though the on screen character is actually writing its title on
screen. It’s an indication of the time,
effort and humour that the Arrow team put into their releases.These extra’s include:
·High Definition Blu-ray (1080p) and
Standard Definition DVD presentation of the feature, transferred from original
film elements by MGM
·Original 2.0 audio (uncompressed PCM
on the Blu-ray)
·Optional English subtitles for the
deaf and hard of hearing
·Audio commentary with
writer/director Thom Eberhardt
·Audio commentary with stars Kelli
Maroney and Catherine Mary Stewart
·Audio commentary with production designer
John Muto
·Valley Girls at the End of the World
– Interviews with Kelli Maroney and Catherine Mary Stewart
·The Last Man on Earth? – An
interview with actor Robert Beltran
·End of the World Blues – A brand new
interview with Star Mary Woronov
·Curse of the Comet – An Interview
with special make-up effects creator David B. Miller
·Original Theatrical Trailer
·Reversible sleeve featuring original
and newly commissioned artwork by Gary Pullin
·Collector’s booklet featuring new
writing on the film by James Oliver illustrated with original archive stills
and posters
Although
the film is very much of its time, it is also timeless as all great cult films
should be. The fact that the film constantly refers to and pays homage to other sci-fi classics is
fabulous, but it is the little less- than- obvious touches that will make for
repeated viewings. My favourite:s one of the survivors of the night of the
comet opens a sealed projection room door and the poster taped onto it was the
Gable/Lombard camp classic Red Dust, which is exactly what all those outside
now are. Touches like that are missing from the “Zombie†(i.e. made and watched
by) films of today. So, my advice is to buy this new Arrow release and draw the
blinds and watch the magical colours on screen and for once “Don’t watch The Skiesâ€.
(the following review is of
the UK release of the film, on Region 2 format)
Behind the Lace Curtain: Soviet Spies in
Suburbia
Robert Tronson’s ‘Ring of Spies’
(aka ‘Ring of Treason’) is the 1964 film version of the true-life Portland Spy
Ring case. From the late 1950s until 1961 the five-strong ring passed secrets
to the Soviets from the Admiralty Underwater Weapons Establishment at Portland
in Dorset, ‘the most hush-hush joint in the country’. Bernard Lee – who is best
known for his role as James Bond’s M, played Harry Houghton, an ex-naval
officer who is shipped back from his post in Warsaw following a drunken
incident at an embassy party. Houghton is posted as a clerk at the secret naval
base at Portland and is approached by an agent from ‘the other side’ who
convinces him to commit treason and steal them ‘a few titbits’. Houghton befriends
his co-worker, Elizabeth Gee (played by Margaret Tyzack), whom Harry calls
‘Bunty’. In reality spinster Gee’s first name was Ethel. Pleased with
Houghton’s attention and fuss, the two begin courting and Houghton convinces
her to take ‘Top Secret’ documents from the safe. Gee thinks she’s helping US
intelligence to keep tabs on the Royal Navy, but their contact in London,
Gordon Lonsdale, is actually a Soviet agent.
Lonsdale (played by William
Sylvester, later of ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’), masquerades as a jukebox dealer
in London, but in reality he takes the ‘borrowed’ documentation to antiquarian
bookseller Peter Kroger (David Kossoff) and his wife Helen. There, behind the
lace curtains at their bungalow at 45 Cranley Drive, Ruislip, Middlesex – inconspicuously
nestled in suburbia – the pilfered secrets are photographed, documented, then
sent behind the Iron Curtain, reduced to diminutive microdots which are hidden
as full stops in such collectable books as ‘Songs of Innocence’ by William
Blake. Houghton and Gee become wealthy for their sins, buying a bungalow and a
new Zodiac car. But their boozing and conspicuous generosity in local pubs
attracts attention. The police and secret service calculate that their joint
£30-a-week incomes don’t match their extravagant lifestyle. Their home is
bugged by an agent posing as a gasman and the spy ring’s full extent begins to
be revealed.
Anyone interested in rare
1960s British cinema and low-fi monochrome espionage is in for a treat with
this engrossing rendition of a fascinating true story. Told with the minimum of
flash and no distracting score (the only music is from record players, or odd
atonal data electronica) ‘Ring of Spies’ deserves to be better known. Bernard
Lee is well cast as the hard-drinking Houghton, who feels the world owes him
something and has no loyalty to ‘Queen and Country’, in sharp contrast to his M
character in the 007 films. Tyzack and Sylvester are also ideal for the roles
of timid spinster and ice-cold spymaster. The supporting cast is good, with Thorley
Walters as Houghton’s cheery commander, Winters, and familiar faces such as
Paul Eddington and Geoffrey Palmer present in the background. Edwin Apps plays
Blake, ‘a minor cog in the Middle East department’. One of my favourite 1960s
actresses, Justine Lord (Sonia in ‘The Girl Who Was Death’ spy spoof episode of
‘The Prisoner’) appears early in the film, as Christina, Harry’s lover in
Warsaw. Gillian Lewis played Harry and Bunty’s co-worker Marjorie Shaw, whose
beauty has earned her ‘Runner up, Miss Lyme Regis’. The realistic settings and
authentic filming locations – Chesil Beach, various London tube stations, the
Round Pond in Kensington Palace Gardens, the magnificent roof garden at the top
of Derry and Toms department store on Kensington High Street – ensure the story
is always interesting and the monochrome cinematography adds docu-realism to
the action. Interiors were shot on sets at Shepperton Studios.
Don’t expect 007, nor even
Harry Palmer, but the film’s depiction of low-key, cloak and dagger espionage
is edgily exciting, as the spies are tailed on English country roads and
suburbia by British agents disguised as builders, ‘News of the World’ newspaper
van drivers and nuns. This is a must for fans of 1960s Cold War spy cinema. The
story proves that fact is often much stranger than fiction. In reality, after
being sentenced to 15 years in prison each, Houghton and Gee were released in
1970 and married the following year.
This DVD release is part of
Network’s ‘The British Film’ collection, a five-year project to release over
450 British films via a deal with Studiocanal. The project commenced in April
2013. ‘Ring of Spies’ is from British Lion and includes the original trailer (a
‘U’ rated trailer advertising an ‘A’ certificate film) and a gallery of publicity
stills.
CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM AMAZON UK AND TO VIEW ORIGINAL TRAILER
For
this reviewer, Terry-Thomas’s turn as dastardly Raymond Delauney in the 1960 Brit-com
School for Scoundrels remains one of
his finest. The actor’s effervescent personality gelled perfectly with the
penmanship of Stephen Potter to create an egotistical chauvinist you couldn’t
help but take a liking to. Just a year later, in 1961’s His and Hers, his portrayal of a similar cad is one of his weaker
turns and rapidly becomes tiresome. It’s all in the writing, folks.
His and Hers was the
penultimate film from Brian Desmond Hurst, whose moment in the sun was the
sterling 1951 adaptation of “A Christmas Carolâ€, featuring Alistair Sim in the
title role of Scrooge. Hurst, along
with writers Jan and Mark Lowell and Stanley Mann, hailed from a background in screen
drama, so comely was not the likeliest genre for them to tackle. The lukewarm
results are testimony to their folly.
Intrepid
adventurer – and author of the hugely successful “I Conquered…†series of books
– Reggie Blake (Terry-Thomas) returns from his latest escapade in the Sahara.
His past expeditions have all been stage-managed by his canny publisher Charles
Dunton (Wilfred Hyde-White); the sharks he fought in the Atlantic were rubber,
the igloo he inhabited in the Arctic had central heating. But this time the set-up
went wrong and so for his new book Reggie wants to do away with the fiction and
tell it as it really was. The problem is it’s boring. When Reggie adopts a
pompous stance and threatens to take the manuscript elsewhere, it causes
friction with both his wife Fran (Janette Scott) and Dunton. Shrewdly aware
that the public is eager for a new “I Conquered…†epic, Dunton conspires with
Fran to pretend to write a book
exposing her husband’s faux adventures – “I Was Conquered by a Middle-aged
Monster†– in the hope it’ll coax Reggie into delivering a book that will actually
sell. But Reggie proves more stubborn than either of them expects…
…“And
much hilarity ensuesâ€, as they say. Except in the case of His and Hers, it doesn’t. As previously mentioned, Terry-Thomas’s
character isn’t very likeable. Unfortunately, rather damningly, neither are
Hyde-White’s or Scott’s. They’re all
objectionable. Thus the intended humour as husband and wife divide up their
house into “his†and “hers†areas falls flat. Their struggles to adapt to their
new roles – he on all levels of domesticity, she in her attempts to immerse
herself in the business of authorship – seldom elicit more than a tepid smile.
So
what are we left with? Not a lot. It there’s any fun to be derived here, it’s
in the form of a myriad of cameos from favourites of the big and small screen.
Kenneth Connor, Oliver Reed, Kenneth Williams, Joan Sims, Marie Deveraux,
Francesca Annis, Joan Hickson – even a youthful William Roach – have all put in
appearances by the time the end credits roll. These cameos certainly lend His and Hers curiosity value, but
there’s regrettably little else for which one could recommend it.
As
a constituent in their “The British Film†collection, Network Distributing in
the UK have just released the film on DVD and (incredulously, given its
mediocre value) Blu-Ray too, though to be fair the crisp black and white print
is pristine. The only supplement offered is a short gallery of original FOH stills.
Sir Roger Moore will be signing copies of his latest book, "Last Man Standing: Tales From Tinseltown", in London. Below is the schedule for the signing sessions.
"Last Man Standing: Tales From Tinseltown" recounts Sir Roger's personal memories of the his friendships and working relationships with many of the greatest Hollywood legends.
Thursday
4thSeptember
1pm Book signing, Hatchards St Pancras
Friday
5thSeptember
5pm Book signing,The Cinema Store
Sunday
7thSeptember
2.30pm Book signing, WaterstonesGuildford
Thursday
11thSeptember
1.30pm HarrodsBook signing
Saturday
13thSeptember
1pm Book signing, Waterstones Kingston
Please note: Due to the large crowds that are anticipated, in order to ensure that all books can be signed, Sir Roger will not be personalizing copies. Additionally, there will be no posing for photos or signing any items other than the book itself.
Can't make it to the signings? Click here to order from Amazon UK.
The book will be released in the USA in October under the title "One Lucky Bastard". Click hereto pre-order from Amazon USA
During
the early half of the 1970s – post his final (official) stint as 007 – Sean
Connery made an eclectic array of script choices, ranging from the highly
astute (The Offence and The Man Who Would Be King, both of which
rank among his finest screen work) to the, er… questionable. (Yes, Zardoz, I’m looking at you). 1974’s
political potboiler Ransom (U.S. title: The Terrorists) falls somewhere
in between.
With
little more than a clutch of television works to his prior credit, Finnish
director Caspar Wrede wouldn’t seem to have been the most obvious choice to
helm a big screen thriller with a bone fide international superstar headlining,
and the plodding result does somewhat corroborate its director’s roots.
The
story picks up in the wake of a series of bomb attacks on London, and finds a
group of terrorists holding hostage the British ambassador to Scandinavia.
Meanwhile, a separate team led by Petrie (Ian McShane) have hijacked a British
plane on the icebound runway, Petrie’s intent being to whisk his comrades and
the ailing ambassador out of the country. Failure of the officials to comply
will result in the plane, along with its passengers and crew, being blown sky
high. It falls to Scandinavia’s head of security Tahlvik (Connery) – renowned
for his refusal to negotiate with terrorists – to intervene.
Sean
Connery’s magnetic screen presence as the hard-as-nails security chief coupled
with fresh-faced Ian McShane’s lively turn as the urbane terrorist who may not
be all that he seems keep things ticking along reasonably well, and director
Wrede generates sporadic moments of suspense during the opponents’ strategic
play-offs. The Norwegian locations offer up some terrific vistas for
Oscar-winning Swedish cinematographer Nils Nykvist to train his lens on (an
aerial pursuit through snow-dappled mountains is breathtakingly noteworthy) and
Jerry Goldsmith delivers a serviceable score, albeit one of the less memorable
in his vast oeuvre.
But
beyond this, I’m afraid, Ransom is
very much routine fare. It doesn’t help that the script confines Connery – indisputably
the picture’s biggest asset – to an office, treading water as he orchestrates
attempts by others to outwit the terrorists; he should be out there on the ice
himself, getting his hands dirty. By the time he steps into the fray at the
climax it’s a case of too little too late.
Network
Distributing have issued Ransom on
DVD and Blu-Ray in the UK as part of their ongoing “The British Filmâ€
collection. The new HD transfer looks tremendous (so clean, in fact, that it
gives the game away in a couple of instances where still images have been
inserted in lieu of live action footage) and the release is rounded out with a
pair of original release cinema trailers and a respectable gallery of stills
and poster art.
Film Noir: 100 All-Time Favorites. Edited by Paul Duncan and Jürgen
Müller. (Taschen, £34.99) 688 pages, illustrated (colour and B&W), ISBN:
9783836543569, hardback
Review by Sheldon Hall
Taschen likes to produce big, heavy books, and this is one
of its biggest and heaviest to date. Don’t drop it on your foot. The company
previously published a shorter handbook on this subject, entitled simply Film Noir (2012), and the editor of that
volume, Paul Duncan, now co-edits this triple-sized follow-up. The erstwhile
co-authors of the earlier book, Alain Silver and James Ursini, are among the
better-known contributors here (27 are credited) in a chronologically organised
survey of a hundred films spanning from 1920 (The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari) to 2011 (Drive). Those two titles give an indication of the perennial
problem with film noir: deciding what it is. Is it a genre, a style, a mood, or
all three? Not surprisingly, the various authors do not agree on the answer.
The entries on individual films – each running to between
four and eight pages in length – are preceded by three longer pieces which give
some thought to the nature of the object in question: a reprint of Paul
Schrader’s classic article ‘Notes on Film Noir’ (no source is given for it, but
it was first published in the magazine Film
Comment in 1972), a lengthy analysis of Orson Welles’ The Lady from Shanghai (1947) by Jürgen Müller and Jörn Hetebrügge,
and ‘An Introduction to Neo-noir’ by Douglas Keesey. The first of these is the
most useful, placing the ‘original’ cycles of films noir in the social and
cultural context of the 1940s and 1950s, describing the influence of the
‘hard-boiled’ school of crime fiction, and suggesting some of the stylistic,
thematic and atmospheric qualities associated with the noir form.
In their chapter ‘Out of Focus’, Müller and Hetebrügge
justify the choice of The Lady from
Shanghai for an extended case study because it is ‘exemplary’ and ‘the
epitome’ of film noir style. But its extreme qualities also make it somewhat
untypical and more representative of its director than of noir generally. The authors
take the view that both Welles and the film are great because they broke
standard Hollywood conventions (which they evidently regard as stale and
boring). That may be true in this case but it is much less so of many if not
most of the other noir films of the ‘classical’ period, which as often as not
drew heavily on those conventions while adding to their range and variety. The
extensive illustrations which are as much the raison d’être of Taschen’s books
as the text are rather disappointingly used in this chapter. While Müller and
Hetebrügge describe shots from the film in some detail, their analysis is not
accompanied by stills or frame grabs illustrating those particular images so
the reader cannot judge the accuracy of the description. There are a dozen
frame blow-ups from the climactic hall-of-mirrors sequence, but that is not
among the scenes analysed at length.
While Schrader’s piece is insistent that film noir is particular
to the years 1941-58, the rest of the book suggests that its history is much
longer: no fewer than 45 of the hundred films selected for the book were made
outside that key period. Among the dubiously relevant later titles included are
Michelangelo Antonioni’s Blowup (1966)
and The Passenger (1975), both of
which are distinctly lacking in the stylistic and generic qualities associated
with classic noir, along with Peeping Tom
and Psycho (both 1960), The Getaway (1972) and Black Swan (2010). In casting the net so
widely, the editors risk making noir a category so diffuse and nebulous as to
be meaningless. Although most of the chosen films deal in some way with crime,
virtually anything ‘a bit dark’ could be made to fit into parameters as loose
as these. As if to prove the point, a filmography of 1,000 titles includes such
unlikely candidates as Metropolis (1927),
The Treasure of the Sierra Madre
(1948), The Wages of Fear (1953), They Shoot Horses, Don’t They? (1969), Straw Dogs (1971), Deliverance (1972), Lethal
Weapon (1987), The Matrix (1999) and
almost everything by Hitchcock (including the lighter ones).
I don’t want to sound too harsh about this beautifully
produced book which, with its lavish illustrations taking up three-quarters of
most double-page spreads, makes for a very pleasant browse or, at an RRP of nearly
£35, a very expensive doorstop. I’m just not sure that it helps to shed any
more light on a form – style, genre, whatever you want to call it – that seems
more shadowy the more scholars focus on it.
(The following review
pertains to the UK release of the film on Region B/2 formats)
By Howard Hughes
The Girls with the Dragon Tattoo
Following
on from its release of ‘Lady Snowblood’ and ‘Lady Snowblood 2: Love Song of
Vengeance’ in 2012, UK company Arrow
Films has released another Japanese cult classic in ‘Blind Woman’s Curse’, a
film which mixes swordplay, horror and the supernatural into a bloody vengeance
scenario.
Also
known as ‘Kaidan nobori ryû’, ‘The Tattooed Swordswoman’ and ‘Black Cat’s
Revenge’, this is unusual action fare from director Teruo Ishii. Meiko Kaji,
who went on to star as Lady Snowblood, cuts her teeth – and several villains’
major arteries – as Akemi, the head of the Tachibana Clan. In the opening rain
swept swordfight, she accidentally blind’s Aiko (Hoki Tokuda), the younger
sister of Yakuza clan leader Boss Goda. After a three-year stretch in prison,
Akemi returns to her role as Tachibana leader, but fears she’s been cursed by a
black cat – the animal licked the bloody eyes of blinded Aiko as she lay in
agony. Upon their release from prison, Akemi’s five cellmates join her clan –
having acquired dragon’s tail tattoos to match their leader’s. The arrival of a
blind swordswoman at a rival clan results in the Tachibana gang girls suddenly
developing a high mortality rate. The murdered corpses of Akemi’s cellmates are
found, one by one, with the dragon tattoos gruesomely sliced from their back.
It a plot twist that surprises no one, the blind stranger is revealed to be Aiko
Goda, back to take revenge on Akemi. Following a violent, score-settling
encounter between the rival clans, a sword-swishing showdown of bloody
violence, the final duel between Akemi and Aiko is artfully lit against a
maelstrom swirl of night sky.
Meiko Kaji
‘Blind
Woman’s Curse’ packs an awful lot into its 81 minutes and despite erratic
plotting is never dull. The cast is a gallery of grotesques and stock genre
characters. Beautiful Kaji is perfect as Akemi, though she’s underused here
compared to the ‘Lady Snowblood’ movies, which showcase her charisma and sword
fighting talent much better. Tatsumi Hijikata played the scarily strange
hunchback Ushimatsu, who behaves like a cat and is an unsettling presence
throughout. Makoto Satô was heroic Tani, Yôko Takagi (in her film debut) was
his lover Chie Mitsui – who are tortured by being thrown down a well – and
Yoshi Katô played Chie’s father Jutaro, who is beheaded but returns as a reanimated
deadman brought back to life by the hunchback. The warring gangs scenario
recalls Akira Kurosawa’s ‘Yojimbo’ (1961), but Ishii populates his underworld
with Yakuza gangsters with questionable personal hygiene, cocky gang bosses, assassins,
traitors and human scum. The story also veers off into weird moments of
suspense and horror, with bizarro theatre presentations, nightmarish allusions
to cannibalism, references to the opium trade, drug-hooked pleasure girls,
torture sequences and shades of Peckinpah and Poe.
Some
of the costumes are fairly out there – check out one gangster’s bowler hat and red
loincloth combo – while the fight choreography by Masatoshi Takase is riveting.
Despite ‘Blind Woman’s Curse’s visual splendour and cult movie oddness, I’ve a
nagging feeling that the rest of the film never quite matches its magnificent title
sequence, as Akemi and her five henchmen fight the Godo clan, in muddy, rain-drenched
slow-motion. Each of the Tachibana fighters has part of a dragon tattooed
across their backs, with Akemi as the head, her men as the tail. The eerily melodic
music of Hajime Kaburagi plays delicately against the balletic bloodletting,
and the cat’s ocular blood-feast is an unsettling climax to the scene.
In
summary: Swift swordplay, much blood. Highly recommended.
Special
Features:
·New high definition
digital transfer of the film prepared by Nikkatsu Studios
·Presented in High
Definition Blu-ray (1080p) and Standard Definition DVD
·Uncompressed mono PCM
audio
·Newly translated English
subtitles
·Audio commentary by
Japanese cinema expert Jasper Sharp, author of ‘Behind the Pink Curtain’
·The Original Trailer
(which includes alternate takes from shots used in the film)
·Trailers for four of the
films in the Meiko Kaji-starring ‘Stray Cat Rock’ series, made at Nikkatsu:
‘Wild Jumbo’, ‘Sex Hunter’, ‘Machine Animal’ and ‘Beat ‘71’.
·Reversible sleeve
featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Gilles Vranckx
·Collector’s booklet
featuring new writing on the film by Japanese cinema expert Tom Mes,
illustrated with original archive stills.
The Blu-ray/DVD edition of ‘Blind Woman’s
Curse’ is available now, in Region B/2 format, rated certificate 15.
Have
you ever wondered what M*A*S*H would have been like if, instead of
rebelling in a Korean field hospital and taking a satirical swipe at the
Vietnam war, Elliott Gould and Donald Sutherland had actually been CIA
operatives in contemporary Paris? Probably not, but somebody in 1974 did and commissioned
a film that would be marketed solely on the chemistry of its two leads. Sadly
no one else involved with movie seemed to think it worthwhile to write a decent
script or throw any money into the project. This film looks so cheap that,
during a scene where Sutherland is washing up, you suspect that he was doing
this between takes as well.
Gould
and Sutherland play agents Griff and Bruland, who are both working separately
in Paris until an accidental assassination attempt by their own agency brings them
together. Incidentally this bombing takes place in a pissoire (urinal), which
gives an early indication of how grubby this film will get. Martinson, played
by British actor Joss Ackland, is the Chief of the Paris branch of the CIA, and
to make amends for nearly killing them, he puts them together on a new case.
Their task is to smuggle a defector from the Russian Olympic team back to New
York. However, when rival British agents get involved, it all goes horribly
wrong, and once again Griff and Bruland narrowly escape a CIA bomb. So now they
are rogue ex-agents out to survive attempts on their lives whilst earning money
through shady deals involving French revolutionaries, the Russian ambassador
and the Chinese secret service. Much farce ensues.
The
film, shot in the UK and on location in Paris, plays more like a Bob Hope and
Bing Crosby Road to... movie, or, with the heavy British influence, the
Morecambe and Wise film The Magnificent Two. Ackland is like a poor
man's Herbert Lom from the Pink Panther films, and Sutherland and Gould
play the film like they used to have fun together a few years ago, but not so
much any more. A lot of the film feels like the director is time filling. A
return trip from Paris to London serves no other purpose than to allow for
stock travel footage. This is perhaps a surprise when you learn that the
director is none other than Irvin Kershner, who started out in film noir but is
best known for saving the Star Wars
franchise with The Empire Strikes Back. S*P*Y*S represents
something of a low in his CV.
For
reasons most likely forgotten, the film had a score by Jerry Goldsmith on its
US release, but in Europe a new score was recorded by John Scott, a jazz
musician whose career now spans more than fifty years, covering everything from
horror and sexploitation to TV themes and epics. His score for S*P*Y*S,
found on this new DVD release, is fairly conventional, and in all likelihood
the audience will be too busy straining to hear anything funny from the cast to
notice it.
One
point of interest here is that the film offers an appearance of Zouzou, who
plays a sexy revolutionary. In the 1960s, through her involvement with Brian
Jones of The Rolling Stones, she became a celebrity and French icon before
trying singing and acting. Addicted to heroin she dropped out of acting shortly
after S*P*Y*S, presumably because she watched it.
Fans
of Elliott Gould or Donald Sutherland will no doubt want to pick this up, but
for everyone else it is a less than essential release. With a plot that can be
found in countless Euro-spy and Bond rip-offs, and unable to compensate for
this with sparkling wit or charm, S*P*Y*S has little to offer. Watch M*A*S*H
again instead.
This
new DVD release from Network Releasing features a decent print. The colours are
rather drab, but one suspects that is how the film has always looked. As
mentioned, the soundtrack features the European rather than the original Jerry
Goldsmith score. The only extras are a rather brief stills gallery and the
original theatrical trailer, which really hammers home just how great it will
be to see Gould and Sutherland do their thing again. If only it proved to be true...
Cinema Retro has received the following press release:
The year is
1964 and Beatlemania is in full
swing. The biggest band on the planet are about to make their big screen debut.
The film is A Hard Day’s Night, a seminal piece of filmmaking that shows The Beatles as they’ve never been seen before.
To celebrate its 50th Anniversary the film will be presented in a new 4k digital
restoration approved by director Richard
Lester, with three audio options - a
monoaural soundtrack in addition to newly created stereo and 5.1 surround mixes
supervised by sound producer Giles
Martinand engineer Sam Okellat Abbey Road Studios. The film will be in
cinemas, on-demand
and available to download from 4 July, followed by a special edition Blu-ray and
two-disc DVD release on 21 July 2014, courtesy of Second Sight Films.
A Hard Day’s Night will have an Extended
Run at BFI Southbank from 4 July
2014, with a special preview and talk with Richard
Lester on 3 July 2014. The UK theatrical release will be handled by
Metrodome Distribution.
Director Richard Lester used
his experience of working on television adverts combined with slapstick comedy,
a nod to the French ‘New Wave’ movement and a documentary style, and alongside
screenwriter Alun Owen created a
unique and innovative film that went on to influence a whole generation of music
videos and films.
A Hard Day’s Night follows a ‘typical’ day in the life of the Fab Four as they
try to make it to their big show. As the title track roles we see John,
Paul, George and Ringo mobbed by a group of
fervent fans as they catch a train to London along with their manager
Norm (Norman Rossington – The Longest Day), his assistant Shake (John Junkin – Hooray For Laughter) and Paul’s troublesome Grandfather (Wilfred Bramble – Steptoe and Son).
A series of hilarious
escapades follow, with Grandfather bribing a butler for his clothes to go to a
casino, Ringo leaving the band to go solo and ending up in a police station and
John’s disagreements with a disgruntled TV producer (Victor Spinetti – Help).
Will the boy’s make it in time for their big concert?
This is all set to a
brilliant soundtrack of classic Beatles tracks including I Should
Have Known Better, And I Love Her, Tell Me Why,
If I Fell and Can't Buy Me Love, and features a stand out supporting cast
including comedienne Anna Quayle, cartoonist
Bob Godfrey, TV host Robin Ray, dancer Lionel Blair, Harrison's future wife Patti Boyd, and director Lester himself.
Bonus features include:
‘In
Their Own Voices’ - a new piece combining 1964 interviews with The Beatles
with behind-the-scenes footage and photos
‘You
Can’t Do That’: The Making of A Hard Day’s Night, a documentary by
producer Walter Shenson including an outtake performance by The Beatles
‘Things
They Said Today’, a documentary about the film featuring director Richard
Lester, music producer George Martin, screenwriter Alun Owen and
cinematographer Gilbert Taylor
‘Picturewise’
- a new piece about Richard Lester‘s early work featuring a new audio
interview with the director.
‘Anatomy
of a Style’ - a new piece on
Richard Lester‘s methods
(This review pertains to the limited edition Region 2 UK release from the BFI)
By Paul Risker
As
well as asking the question “Is cinema more important than life?†Francois
Truffaut showed a flair for statement when he declared Werner Herzog to be “The
most important filmmaker alive.â€
If
the BFI have the final word this summer, it will be remembered as the summer of
Herzog, as they align themselves with the German filmmaker and journey headlong
into his cinematic world. This rendezvous starts with a descent into the past with
two distinct forms of horror - the hallucinatory horror of human obsession in
Aguirre, Wrath of God and the genre horror Nosferatu.
Aguirre,
Wrath of God represents an important entry in Herzog's career, and by coupling it
with his 1971 feature documentary Fata Morgana, this release highlights the spatial
thread that runs through his cinema. From the jungle, the desert, Antarctica
and the urban geographical spaces resemble continents in Herzog’s cinema. Therein
the decision to offset Herzog's early foray into the jungle with an early
montage of images of the desert set to songs by Leonard Cohen is a fitting
accompaniment to Aguirre’s obsessive jungle march.
It
is theoretically possible to appreciate select films via the filmmaker’s commentary
on a first viewing, and Aguirre, Wrath of God is one of those films to support
such a theory. Herzog’s commentary intertwines well with the film, and whilst
the film functions as an independent entity - the grown up child who has come
of age and has been sent out into the world; Herzog’s words take you behind the
images to tell you the transparent narrative of the human experience behind the
film.
Whilst
in one sense the films exist separately of their filmmaker, in equal measure an
extension of him. In Aguirre, Wrath of God Herzog’s audacity to confront the inhospitable
jungle as well as the arduous nature of the filmmaking process finds him
mirrored in the tale of obsession and the obsessive nature of Don Lope de
Aguirre (Klaus Kinski).
Herzog’s
primary focus appears to be trained on the experience or sense of feeling the
film offers over the consideration of narrative, by opening himself up to the
environment as a source of inspiration. He allows the jungle to reveal its
nature and to guide him in creating an experience for him, his characters and
us the audience. Aguirre feels authentically gruelling, and lacks the
artificial feel of a performance, merging the physical and psychological
experience of a trek, and despite the improvisational approach, Herzog manages
to create a melodic flow amidst the arduous natural terrain, imbuing it with
graceful beauty despite the descent into an obsessive voyage of death.
Aguirre,
Wrath of God offers a powerful meditation on a theme of insanity - the susceptibility
versus the immunity. Whilst Kinski’s Aguirre floats on the surface in a state
of disquieting peace, his counterparts are inevitably dragged beneath the calm
surface. Kinski’s delivers a pitch perfect performance, both his idle and glaring
stare offset against the awkward physical movements that masterfully merge the
physical abruptness with a shade of a devilish soul.
The
jungle setting affords Herzog the opportunity to take advantage of the space
and setting as a mirror to reflect his characters psychology - the wildness of
their natures, and the labyrinth of obsession that the winding river becomes a
metaphor for. But the fatalities suffered by the native’s offers a reflection
that man is his own undoing, and mother nature is only a backdrop or a
reflection capable of showing us both our Jekyll and Hyde.
Aguirre
sits as the opening chapter in the tumultuous Kinski-Herzog collaboration; the
full story of which was wonderfully told in Herzog’s 1999 documentary My Best Fiend.
This relationship imbues Herzog’s career with a shade of folklore. If Woody
Allen listed reasons to live, then one of the reasons to be grateful for
Aguirre, Wrath of God is Herzog’s infamous threat to shoot Kinski. Whilst
disputes on set are not unheard of, Kinski and Herzog pushed into the realm of
the absurd. Whilst the two men plotted each other’s murder together they created
a series of films that have come to represent one of the great cinematic
collaborations in the history of film. But the distortion of these stories has
imbued them with a sense of myth; where what happened differs to what we think
happened. The stories of threats of physical harm and fleeing native tribes
could be read as filmic parables or cautionary tales for other filmmakers. If
the story of the making of a film can be just as compelling as the narrative
that plays out onscreen, the Kinski-Herzog dance more often than not produced such
a compelling second narrative. What better place to start than with Aguirre,
Wrath of God where this collaboration was born.
Alongside
a fine selection of extras including an old commentary track moderated by
Norman Hill and the montage documentary Fata Morgana, included on this release
are three early shorts that see Herzog experiment with the subjective and
objective perspective of his characters. An entertaining trilogy representing a
young filmmaker cutting his teeth, they present him as a filmmaker fascinated
by human nature, behaviour and personality from the very dawn of his filmmaking
career.
One of the most sought-after film scores in
the last 40 years has finally been released on CD. When released in 1968,
Michael Reeves’ classic Witchfinder
General (released in America as The Conqueror Worm) , starring Vincent Price (in arguably his finest role) featured an
equally impressive score by Paul Ferris. At the time of the film's initial
release a 45rpm record of the love theme was issued in England, but not a
complete soundtrack. Thought to be have been lost forever, the original
1/4-inch master tapes were found in the vaults of recording studio De Wolfe Ltd
in 2013.
Recently-discovered box containing reels of the original score.
The tapes, which are the original recordings, and not a copy, include
every cue used in the film, and are now available on a CD for fans of this film
(and the music) to enjoy at long last. Released by De Wolfe Ltd, the 3-sided
gatefold sleeve reproduces photos of the newly discovered tape box and reel
itself, and also comes with a 12-page booklet detailing the film's history. For
this author, this is the 'find' of the decade!
